Dogwater's Brother

By moc.liamtoh@emitkcoj

Published on Jan 26, 1998

Bisexual

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Dogwater's Brother

I

While Mr. Mathews had four sons that he was willing to acknowledge legally, still when anyone mentioned Dogwater's brother it was automatically assumed that they meant Wacker. Though he was born Bascombe Lane Mathews, he had been called Wacker since infancy. Some thought it was an indication of sexual prowess at an early age, while others contended it meant his father would often whack him on the side of the head for doing wild and willful things. No one ever questioned the fact that the name was spelled Wacker, while the word, when used, was spelled whacker.

Wacker Mathews at nineteen was tall, slender but strong, with a wiry litheness and quickness of movement that had won him many fights and gotten him out of many jams. Being chief driver in his father's moonshine operations, his physical quickness was the asset his father admired most.

When Wacker came into town shirtless, with his faded jeans hung low on his narrow hips, girls looked at his washboard abs and tight butt almost as much as they looked at the deep blue eyes and the sandy, long hair that was always falling into his face. Rumor had it that not a few guys looked on him with eyes of desire as well.

The school board as well as the entire high school faculty would have been very surprised if they had known that Coach Hatch looked on Wacker with a lust that burned incessantly. At times he even asked Dogwater:

"I thought you were gonna tell Wacker to stop by and see me."

They were standing in the hall at the end of 5th period. Dogwater paused a moment, his journal hidden in his notebook. Coach Hatch was Dogwater's favorite person, the only one in his life who truly made him feel secure. He felt so secure, in fact, that his dick started getting hard on him.

"I've told him, Coach. But you know, he works nights."

"Right. He drives for your daddy. But he could still stop by on his way out of town."

"Daddy don't let any of them stop for anything when they're on a run. He said he would see you sometime. He said he still remembered you."

Coach Hatch put his hand absently on Dogwater's shoulder, which made Dogwater's dick get even harder. But the Coach's thoughts were elsewhere, to the time the tall and slender Wacker had been in his PE classes. Hatch could see him now, striding out of the shower with his dick swaying from side to side. Or, Wacker dressing out while the coach watched from a distance, feeling a burning inside as Wacker tried to pull up his jock and get it fixed while his dick wanted to stay free. Even the day Wacker sat on the crapper dumping a load, while the coach pretended to be checking the bathroom for toilet paper. When Wacker sat on the pot, his dick hung down so far he had to hold it to keep it out of the water.

"Damn," he said aloud to Dogwater, "you Mathews' boys sure have got the bodies. And the equipment."

Dogwater grinned at this, and felt all warm and loved inside. Not since that day 12 years before when his mother had departed with her suitcase in the expensive car that came to get her, had he had anyone who really talked to him, who really seemed interested in him.

He wanted to tell Coach Hatch about his new project for his book. He had started getting up early, now that the weather was close to summer, and looking at likely places where tramps and drifters might sleep. He had heard that they often slept in the nude, and he wanted to see if he could spot some new dicks to record in his journal. This project had met with absolutely no success, but Dogwater peered into barns and through the windows of deserted houses to see if anyone might be sleeping there. He did not let his lack of success discourage him.

"You got time for me now?" he asked hopefully.

Coach Hatch's thoughts returned abruptly to the present. He looked at Dogwater as if he had forgotten he was there. "Oh..er..better not for now. I'll check with you later."

Dogwater nodded eagerly. Ever hopeful, he went on down the hall to his next class.

II

Wacker Mathews was so bisexual that it was almost embarrassing. Not only did he and his brothers often relieve their urges on Dogwater at night in the infamous bedroom, but he and Linda Sue Pringle lusted together at the lake, at the closed and abandoned drive-in, and even on the sofa in her parents living room when they were gone to Mobile to shop at the new Wal-Mart.

Linda Sue considered this lean and handsome boy to be the true love of her life, and the one she hoped some day to marry. But what she and everyone else in town did not know, was that Wacker had a secret love of his own.

This secret love troubled Wacker greatly. His life had been uncomplicated until now. Guys loved girls, had sex with them, and in time finally married one of them. That was no problem. When guys were growing up, you could think whatever thoughts you wanted when you beat off, because those were just thoughts. And even if you got with some guys some time and had a circle jerk, or spent the night with some guy and the two of you got off together, that was still no problem. And even the things they did to Dogwater at night in bed were no problem. After all, Dogwater was their brother, and they were just having fun and practicing for the day they got laid.

But from the first time he saw Billy, he had experienced feelings that didn't seem to be right. His breath would get short, his stomach would get a funny feeling, and his dick would somehow be sending him a message.

He first saw Billy six months ago, and since that time, his life had not been the same. When he made a run delivering moonshine to the joints and darkened houses on the backroads of south Alabama counties, his thoughts would be filled with Billy. And driving back, in the pitch black dark of some sultry evenings, when the corn in the fields smelled like it was roasting, he would pull the seat forward, whip out his dick and sit it on the bottom of the steering wheel, and let the rhythm of the road bring him off. Before parking the car at home, he would clean the cum off the dash and the seat and the wheel, and then head inside to bed. And his thoughts would still lust after Billy.

Wacker wasn't used to problems like that. It had gotten so lately that he would rather jack off thinking of Billy, than to be having sex with the ever-lovely Linda Sue. He hated himself that this was true. And he didn't know what to do about it.

In every garden, there is a serpent. In every apple there is a worm. And in Wacker's world, there was a terrible impediment. Billy, whom he wanted above all else, had one great flaw. A flaw that if Wacker's daddy ever found out about, would be an even worse sin in his father's eyes than if he had thought Wacker was gay.

Billy was a cop.

There. He had said it to himself. Maybe not aloud, but he, Wacker Mathews, had admitted that he cared deeply for someone who was a cop. Even as he made his nightly moonshine runs, avoiding the law at all costs, his thoughts were of the strong and handsome, brown-haired, brown eyed Billy Harrison, who was a fresh young deputy in the sheriff's department.

III

There was a fast food place where Billy would often stop when he was on duty, and Wacker managed to drop in there at the same time. They were both near the same age (Wacker found out later that Billy was a year older), but Billy had lived in the next county when he was school age, and the two did not meet until the day Wacker first set eyes on him.

Although no one, perhaps even the two themselves, will ever know all the factors involved in their coming together, it was probably a case of two lonely individuals who, in the dark night of their souls, suddenly realized what love was and what they wanted in life. But each looked into the other's eyes, felt the shock of recognition, and knew from that moment that they wanted to be together.

The first night they slept together, it was at Billy's place, which amounted to two rooms and a bath on one side of old Mrs. Ellis' house. Mrs. Ellis, nearing 95 and almost totally deaf, would never have heard the moans and sighs and cries of ecstasy that eminated from that bedroom on that night. She had been happy to rent to the deputy, since she had heard that there was crime everywhere these days, and she figured a fine upstanding boy like Billy Harrison would be the best protection she could find anywhere. She secretly believed that all this business of gays in the military was undermining the country, and that with no military defense, chaos was eminent everywhere. She was glad her roomer was someone who hadn't been undermined by all this.

But when Wacker and Billy got into the room that night, she was fast asleep. They were careful to be quiet, and both were shy. This would be their first coming together. They pulled the shades and Billy turned on the small lamp on the table by his bed. His brown eyes shown eagerly.

"I sure am glad you could come here."

Wacker was just as eager, but by nature he was more reserved. No Mathews wanted anyone to mistake kindness for weakness. It was better to be low key and make people guess. "Yeah, I've been wanting to get with you."

Wacker's dick was throbbing, and his voice was husky. He looked into Billy's eager, smiling eyes, and he thought he was going to shoot off before they ever got started. He reached over and pulled Billy close, and kissed him.

He could actually feel Billy's heart beating against his chest. He began to unbutton Billy's shirt, and slipped his hand under the undershirt and began sliding it toward Billy's nipples. They were as hard as Wacker knew his own dick was. Billy also was gasping.

The smoothness of Billy's skin was sending Wacker wild. He wanted to lick him all over, to touch his smooth ass and lick between his toes and do everything to make the two of them become one. This was the body he wanted, this was the flesh he wanted, this was the person he wanted to be with forever.

Wacker's hands were driving Billy wild. In his white jockey briefs, his dick was bent almost double and salivating all over the place. He hoped Wacker would get to his pants and shorts soon to give him some relief. But at that moment, with his shirt and undershirt off, Wacker began licking his nipples, while his hot hands played all over his chest.

"My pants," Billy whispered. "Open...my...oh god, I'm about to cum! Oh..Wacker..."

Wacker unbuckled the belt, unbuttoned and unzipped the trousers, and let them fall to the floor. His fingers sought out Billy's big bone. "Shit fire", Wacker whispered, "you've really got it. I mean you REALLY have."

Billy responded to Wacker's touch as if he had been waiting a lifetime for it. The fingers against his massive bone were almost more than he could hope for. He felt like he was about to shoot at any moment.

Wacker slid his hand inside the shorts, and pulling out the waistband began to slide them down. Now his fingers could feel the dick itself, its length, its power, it smooth untouched freshness. He felt like he was at the dawn of creation, touching the first dick that ever existed in the whole history of the world.

Wacker sensed the time was near. He dropped to his knees and took Billy's giant thing in his mouth. It was smooth and full and pulsing. He gladly took it all, almost choking as it reached the throat. And it was obvious Billy had never done this before, because he seemed to start as his bone hit the back of Wacker's mouth. He almost mumbled an apology.

But the warmth of the mouth, the feeling of Wacker's saliva, and the touch of Wacker's fingers on his balls were so powerful that he couldn't help himself. He was in some magic sexual world where he felt better than he ever had in his whole life. Like a giant river bursting its dam, he shot for all he was worth. He was wracked with a shudder that was like a convulsion. When it was over, he collapsed on the bed, looking brown-eyed at Wacker, and whispering "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Wacker grinned. Suddenly he felt complete. "Don't go to sleep on me, man. It ain't near over yet."

IV

But there was a serpent in the garden, a worm in the apple, and his named was Sparks. A deputy with the Sheriff's Department, he was in charge of the night shift. A wife beater and a coward in a fight, he always sought revenge on a world that he felt was laughing at him, a world he believed knew his deepest secrets. His consumption of alcohol had for some time robbed him of his sex drive, but he preferred to blame his wife.

He wanted a promotion, he wanted recognition, he wanted to be a hero in the eyes of the community. And he finally thought of a way that this could be achieved. He would do something that no one for a decade had succeeded in doing, he would catch old man Mathews and his boys when they went to their still, and put the moonshiners out of business.

All he needed for his plan to succeed was to find out where the still was. And to do that, he needed to see where the various Mathews boys went at night. He decided to set his sights on one of them, and so as fate would have it, he chose Wacker.

In a life lived in frustration, it did not seem odd to Sparks that his efforts met with little success. He long ago had decided that life was going to frustrate him at every turn of the road. And because he was in charge of the night shift, he not only could look for Wacker at will, but he could soothe his resentments with a little snort of alcohol now and then.

While this plan of Sparks was being set into effect, Billy and Wacker spent their time together in bliss. Ninety-five year old ladies seldom pry, and besides Mrs. Ellis believed that when the sun went down, it was time for decent people to be asleep. It never dawned on her that Billy did not sleep alone.

For Billy, this was a time of pure bliss. Inexperienced sexually, he found Wacker marvelous and filled with all sorts of knowledge about sex and how to do it. While Wacker was in awe of the sheer size and untouched quality of Billy's body, with the smooth skin and rippling muscles, Billy found the slender rawboned quality of Wacker's body a pleasure to behold. After they had sex, Billy would lie across Wacker's stomach and fondle the head of his dick. Often they would talk, usually about intimate things.

"Wacker?"

"Yeah, Billy?"

"How'd you learn to do all this stuff?"

Wacker was a little uneasy at the question. While he was glad to be plowing untouched property when he was having Billy, he did not want to seem like such a man of the world that he might appear burned out.

"Oh, I don't know. I just sort of picked it up, I guess."

"I met somebody at work who says she knows you real good." There was a touch of something in Billy's voice that Wacker had not heard before.

"Who was that?"

"Linda Sue Pringle. She came by the station to see if we needed a dispatcher for radio duty. It turns out we don't right now. But she saw you go by out in the street, and she started telling me that you and she had an understanding."

"Like shit we do," Wacker barked.

"Well, I just wondered." Billy dropped his eyes. Even though he was the older one, Wacker seemed somehow older or wiser to him.

"Come here," Wacker said suddenly with a grin, and grabbed Billy into his arms. They fell back on the bed and Wacker started in again on that wonderful body that drove him into ecstasy.

V

It was probably just as well that neither Billy nor Wacker knew the trouble that was heading their way. They had their little taste of paradise, their little area of bliss, and there was no good really in warning them that the apple had a worm, that the garden had a snake, and that paradise always had a serpent loose in it somewhere. When you're young and horny and fucking the hell out of the guy you love best, life has no problems.

The days of their bliss flowed past, and the leaves on the trees began to turn that slightly yellow tint which was the first warning that summer was ending. When Wacker did not have to make moonshine deliveries at night, their evenings were noisy and joyous. Mrs. Ellis slept through it all, content that no trouble could come to her with a sheriff's deputy in the bedroom apartment.

But it was Sparks who wanted to bring things to a head. He realized as August wound its way toward September, that he was no nearer to uncovering the location of the Mathews' still, than he had been when he first hit on the plan in early June. But his luck was about to change.

On a moonless night on the last day of the month, Wacker made a delivery run into Washington County. Usually one of his brothers always accompanied him if his father did not go, but this night there were several deliveries to be made, and Wacker was taking his own car. He had never told Billy about the moonshine, but he figured that Billy had heard enough about it to realize that Wacker was as involved in the family business as any of the others. That night Wacker told him he would be late getting back to Billy's.

It was after ten when Wacker headed the car quietly toward the still. The real secret of the still was that it wasn't located on Mathews' property. Actually it was located in government timber land, on a winding dirt road that probably the government itself didn't know about, since no one ever seemed to check up on things here.

The containers were all there waiting for him. His father had come by in the afternoon and filled them. Everything was as it should be. This would be an easy run, he thought.

Back in town, Sparks sweated as he sat in an unmarked car, watching the deserted road from the Mathews place that joined the old highway. He cursed as he thought of the Mathews family, and he cursed his fate that he could never get a promotion. He thought of the young girl, so attractive, who had come by the office several times to see if there might be a dispatcher's job opening. Linda Sue Pringle. That was her name. He wished his wife looked like that. He wondered if his wife had ever been that young.

Time passed. Wacker was off in the back roads of Washington County, making dark deliveries in the dead of night. Sparks nipped from the bottle he kept under the front seat. He sweated. He cursed. And back in his room at Mrs. Ellis', Billy sat by a window waiting for Wacker to return.

Billy liked the quiet of the night. It gave him time to think, to remember, to return to the past. He thought about the first time he had seen Wacker Mathews. He remembered the gasp he felt inside to suddenly see someone whose dark blue eyes seemed to get larger when he looked at Billy. Billy remembered how his hands had sweated, and how he wanted to speak to Wacker but was afraid to. Being on the sheriff's department, he had to be very careful not to seem to come on to anyone.

The night seemed long for all concerned. Sparks finally gave up about midnight, and abandoned his position for one on the county road that led into town from Washington County. If he couldn't catch the Mathews' boys on a run, maybe he could get some tourist for speeding.

Wacker, meantime, had disposed of all his goods, and was heading home to Billy with a pocketful of cash to be given to his father the next morning. He drove past fields already harvested, where occasional mice still scavenged for food. Pitch blackness hid everything but the bright beams of his headlights as he picked up speed.

Sparks saw the car coming. Waiting until it was speeding past, he started the engine, put a flashing light on the roof of the car, hit the siren, and took off. It wasn't until he had pulled the car over, that he realized it was Wacker.

Wacker sat and knew that there was no escape. He hoped he could bluff his way through. But it was not until Sparks stood beside the window, breathing alcoholic fumes in his face, that it dawned on him that he might be in more trouble than he expected.

He was about to ask why he was stopped, but before he could speak, something blunt hit him on the side of his head, and blackness swallowed up any world he knew.

VI

He came to with a throbbing head and a feeling that he couldn't move. As his head cleared, he realized he was tied to a post in some basement. It was still night. For a minute, he wondered how he had gotten there. Then, through the blackness, he could see that Sparks was standing a few feet away, waiting for him to come to.

"Well, Mathews, I reckon I've got you right where I want you."

Wacker waited for him to go on. When he didn't, Wacker asked, "Why am I here? What is it you want?" Dimly in the back of his mind, he thought perhaps Sparks had learned about him and Billy, and this was some sort of revenge.

"Where's your daddy's still?" Although it was a question, the tone of voice Sparks was using indicated he was demanding to be told.

"None of your business, Sparks."

"I'm making it my business, prick. I'm gonna get you to tell me where it is, so I can go to it and close it down permanently. They'll put you and your whole family in prison permanently, and I'll get a promotion. Ok, where is it?"

"None of your business. Now let me go."

Wacker pulled himself up by pushing up with his legs. His hands were tied behind the post.

Sparks came over closer. "Tell me where it is."

"Sparks, I need to take a leak." This was true, although Wacker thought that if he could get to a bathroom, maybe he could climb out a window.

"You lie. But if you really do need it, just piss in your pants. You ain't going anywhere, fucker."

"No shit, Sparks, I really mean it. I gotta take a piss, and soon." Wacker shifted but was unable to cross his legs for emphasis. A rope wound around each ankle loosely, and was tied at the back of the post.

Sparks was himself somewhat dazed from the alcohol. He looked at Wacker a moment, then stepped forward and unzipped Wacker's pants. Reaching in, he pulled out his dick and held it in his hand for a moment, staring stupidly at it.

As if he had lost the thread of the conversation, Sparks said, "That is sure some pecker you've got there, young fellow." He absently moved his fingers along it, as if it were a hose nozzle he was planning to buy.

Wacker gave a shudder. His dick moved in Sparks' hand. It seemed to be taking on a life of its own. Wacker's head ached. It hurt to move. It even hurt to think.

In his drunken stupor, Sparks seemed unaware of what he was doing. He kept fondling the dick, and as it hardened, he helped slide back the foreskin. "Nice, pretty head you've got there, little fella. Except you're not so little any more, are you? You're lengthening up right smart." He sounded as if the dick were a person, a child, a pet of some sort.

Then abruptly he seemed to come out of his daze, and his eyes became shifty and crafty. He turned and picked up a half-empty bottle of whiskey and raised it to his lips.

"This is good stuff. I go through two of these a night. Damn doctor said I ought to quit drinking. I told him it made me too nervous when I quit, so he gave me some pills." Reaching in his shirt pocket, he pulled out a small prescription bottle.

"But I fooled the doctor. I found a better use for them. Instead of taking them and leaving off whiskey, I take them WITH whiskey."

He popped one of the capsules in his mouth, and swallowed it with a slug from the bottle. "Damn but that's good," he said wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "You know sometimes with these pills I can feel dizzy just standing around? And sometimes I even forget where I've been."

He swayed slightly, and then looked down at Wacker's dick as if he were seeing it for the first time. "Damn, boy, do you know you've got your dick sticking out? And it's hard as hell, too."

He reached down and started working it with rapid motions. "You gonna tell me where that still is, boy? Cause if not..." his hand began to cruelly twist Wacker's bone. "You gonna suffer some, boy."

Wacker twisted in agony. He needed to urinate, his dick had been near the point of shooting off, and now everything down there hurt like hell. Even with his throbbing head, he knew he had to think of a way out of this situation. He was sure Sparks was coming apart at the seams.

"Stop a minute! Leggo so I can say something," Wacker cried.

That seemed to register with Sparks, who released his grip on Wacker's dick.

"Sparks, think about it. If anybody should find us here, they would say you kidnapped me. Do you realize what the penalty would be? But if you let me go, I promise I won't ever mention it to anybody."

Sparks took another large swig from the bottle. His eyes had begun to glaze after he took the pill. Now he was having a little trouble focusing.

"Naw. You know I can't let you go, Wacker. Not 'till I know where that still is. I gotta get my promotion." His words were becoming slurred. He reached down to Wacker's bone, and took it in his fingers again. He was working it almost absent-mindedly.

Wacker looked toward the window. The gray light of early dawn was just becoming visible. "What if I won't tell you? You can't keep me here forever. Somebody will find me."

"If you won't tell me, then I reckon I'll have to keep working you over until you do. And nobody will ever find you here. I've watched this house and it's been empty for months. Some nights I've slipped down here to the basement to drink while I was on duty."

He rambled on in a slurred way for a few moments. Wacker knew he had to try one last chance.

"But what if I won't tell you?"

"Then I reckon I'll have to kill you," Sparks said.

VII

It was early dawn when some farmer called and reported an abandoned car on the county road. A check of the car tag showed it was Wacker's. It was also early dawn when Billy, troubled after a sleepless night, went down to the station, and found that the sheriff was furious because Sparks had never checked in during the night. Now the sheriff was inheriting all the work Sparks should have done, all the problems he should have solved. The sheriff was getting a little suspicious of his night-time assistant.

Billy realized there must be a problem. Wacker was definitely missing, although Billy did not want to arouse suspicion by asking at the Mathews home. Mr. Mathews came in to claim the abandoned car. He began asking about his son. Billy was sure then that there must be trouble. But what kind?

Through the mists of the morning, Dogwater walked with his journal, hoping he could find some abandoned barn or occupied hayloft where maybe some new person was sleeping, hopefully in the raw, so that he could make a penis entry in his book. He was still fully convinced that tramps, drifters, and aging hippies all slept in the raw, and left doors open where they could be seen unawares.

But thirty minutes later, with no success so far, he was shocked to look through a basement window down into a dark area and see his own brother tied up. He could also see that another person was there as well. He recognized the night-time chief, Deputy Sparks. Dogwater couldn't believe his eyes. He also couldn't believe what Sparks was doing to his brother's dick.

Back at the station, the search was heating up, but leading nowhere. Linda Sue Pringle heard the news, and rushed down to ask if she could help. In total innocence, she chose Billy as the deputy she wanted to talk to.

"I'm just so concerned," she said, her eyes fluttering. "Wacker and I are ever so close, I mean I am sure the day will come when we'll be married, and.."

Billy thought to himself, That'll be the day.

Mr. Mathews, the picture of homestead frustration, sat waiting for news. The sheriff was being helpful, but there were no clues so far. It was at that moment that the phone rang. Dogwater had called at last.

In the basement, Sparks was stumbling and talking incoherently. "I can't lose my job. If I let you go, they will know I kidnapped you."

Wacker, totally nude by now with his pants and shorts around his ankles, and his dick standing up and out and dripping cum from where Sparks had finally succeeded almost absently in working him off, was desperate.

"I won't tell, Sparks. Look, let me go now, and I can get back to my car and claim I just passed out and slept in my car last night."

"Naw. It's too late for that. Everything's gone crazy. Look at that dick of yours. You done shot off. I reckon I done that, but that ain't like me. I don't even do that kind of stuff." He paused in a troubled and puzzled way. "You reckon those pills done that to me? I never used to be like that before." He reached again for the now-empty bottle, and then threw it disgustedly on the floor.

"Don't nothing make sense no more. But I reckon I better do something about you, boy."

Picking up the jagged neck of the broken bottle, he came over and grabbed Wacker's testicles, almost crushing them in his hand. "I better find out from you quick, boy, or...or..."

He had reached the passing out point. His eyes glazed, his hands relaxed, the bottle neck fell again to the floor, and Sparks quietly slumped over to one side. After one groan, he lay there peacefully snoring.

That was how the sheriff and his men found him.

VIII

It was night before Billy and Wacker could be together again. By that time, Sparks had been officially fired from the Sheriff's Department, arrested, booked, and was being held without bond in jail. Wacker had been checked by the doctor, who found there was no concussion and there were no broken bones, although he had a black eye and a number of bruises. Dogwater was considered the hero of the day, so much so in fact that Coach Hatch had called and invited him to come over and have supper with him.

And at last Billy and Wacker were back together in their little paradise. For at least the present, all serpents were vanquished. Now was their time to reunite and replenish their relationship. Wacker tried to tell Billy everything that had happened, and Billy understood why Wacker was still so very tired and sore.

"Tonight," Billy said, "you won't have to do a thing. This is my time to do you." He grinned from ear to ear.

Wacker grinned back. They were lying on the bed, and Billy began pulling off Wacker's shorts. With Wacker on his back, Billy stood beside the bed and pulled Wacker's legs toward him, finally placing them high with the ankles on his shoulders. Wacker's hole was in perfect view, and Billy began sliding his well lubricated fingers in and out. When he was far enough in that his middle finger could massage Wacker's prostate, he could see that he was getting results. Wacker's tired dick, still sore from the night before, began to expand.

Wacker started to moan with pleasure. Billy then stopped his massage and inserted his long and fully erect dick into the hole. His fingers then began rubbing Wacker's dick. Wacker moaned even more.

"You like that, huh?" Billy asked with glee. His feelings for Wacker were written all over his face. His fingers were playing a tune on his best friend's dick. He could see the muscles tense and the bone want to dance. The blood was pulsing beneath his touch, while his massive pole was hitting the prostate even better than his fingers had.

Wacker writhed in ecstasy, and his voice was getting husky, but he managed to moan, "You know, if you all hadn't come when you did today, I swear Sparks was so out of it I think he would have blown me."

Even in their passion both of them began to laugh. But the drive of heated sex was having its way, and both were reaching their fulfillment time. Billy gave a final thrust, and they shot off together. Then they lay ecstatic in each others arms, fulfilled, warm, comfortable, happy, and truly together.

In her room, Mrs. Ellis slept soundly. She felt the assurance and peace that comes to one who knows for sure that here there is no worm in her apple, and certainly no snake in her Eden.

(The End) __________________________________________________________ Comments and suggestions are always welcome. jocktime@hotmail.com

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