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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

1968 - 7. Chapter 7

February 29, 1968

After all that we'd been through, it was awkward being in a confined space with only each other for company, but by the time we hit Joliet we both relaxed. I stopped to get gas and tossed Jeff the keys. He loved to drive, and I knew he was dying to try out the Eldo, so I wasn't surprised at the grin I got.

When we got to the Iowa border he was comfortable enough to talk about something besides the sights along the way. “You still mad at me?” he asked.

“No,” I answered honestly.

“You probably should be,” he said. The last thing I wanted to deal with was his guilt. “I was pretty rude to you the last time you came to see me.”

“Yeah, that pissed me off,” I said. “Why did you reject me like that?” Stefan had told me, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“I'd put you through so much hell, had you on an emotional roller coaster for so long, and I could see what it was doing to you. You looked haggard, worn down from it. I knew that if I was going to kick my problem the strength was going to have to come from inside me. If I couldn't kick it, the consequences would be dire, and I didn't want you to have to get involved again.”

“So you couldn't have told me that?” I sounded hurt and bitchy, and that pissed me off even more.

“Now you're mad because you're showing your emotions,” he said with a cocky attitude. “And in just a second it's going to bother you that I'm reading your mind again.”

“I think faster than that asshole,” I joked. “And you're just trying to change the subject so you don't have to apologize for treating me like such a dick.”

He took his eyes off the road briefly and looked at me. “I'm sorry JP. You know I am.” Those magical violet eyes that he turned on me, which he used to open up his soul to let me see in. I nodded. “I missed you terribly. I really did.”

“You had other people to keep you company,” I said. He divined the bitterness buried beneath my casual tone.

“And so did you.” Touché.

After that the conversation was light and pleasant. We teased each other and joked, and I found that I spent most of the drive laughing. Then there were the times when we just drove and said nothing. That was one of my favorite things about Jeff, that we could be together, not say anything, and be completely relaxed with each other. We hadn't left Chicago until almost noon, so I decided we should make an early day of it and stop in Des Moines. We found a new Holiday Inn and snagged a room.

We carried in our minimal amount of luggage and Jeff looked at the one big bed and smiled. “One bed huh? You planning to get lucky?”

“Bah. You're just still worried I'll rape you.” That was an old joke between us, since he was so much bigger and stronger than me.

“Nope,” he said and picked me up and tossed me on the bed. I giggled, and our eyes met. I swear fire flew between them. He jumped on the bed next to me and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him. Our eyes met again, and then our lips. Before we could take it any further his stomach growled loudly and I started laughing so hard I had to push him off of me.

I kissed him gently. “You know what I'd like to do?”

“What?” he asked suspiciously.

“I'd like to go get some dinner, then come back here and make love.” He grinned big.

“Let's get fast food.”

McDonalds was not the best food in the world, but it was fast and filling. We practically rushed back to the room. “Come on,” I said, taking his hand and guiding him to the bathroom. We stripped off our clothes and got in the shower.

I ignored the fact that both of us had raging hard-ons and took the little soap bar that hotels give you and proceeded to wash his body. “You got your muscle tone back,” I said with a smile, feeling his brute strength beneath my hand.

“Yeah. They had a gym at the hospital. It was good therapy.”

“Mmmm,” I said as I ran my hands along his biceps and then across his chest. “We'll have to put a gym in the house.”

I turned around to grab a wash cloth and I felt his arms wrap around me. I leaned back into him, thrusting my ass toward him begging him to enter me. I felt his soapy hand move down my crack, gently pressuring my perineum and then my hole. He removed his hand and replaced it with the part of his body that I knew so well. He entered me gently and lovingly, caressing my chest and abdomen as he slowly made love to me.

Then he started his magic, using his husky voice to drive me wild. “God I missed you baby. I missed being with you, hearing your laugh, feeling you next to me, being inside of you like this. You feel so good. Nothing feels better than making love to you.” I moaned and turned into a sex machine, totally out of control of my movements and my feelings, totally yielding to his ministrations. He had me at a high pitch, so close to the edge, but he moved just slow enough to keep me there. Any faster and I'd have blown. I understood then that the connections we'd had, the link between us, was slowly being restored.

“Jeff, you're driving me crazy. Baby, you're torturing me. Make me cum. Oh please, make me cum!” I was begging now, reduced to a quivering pile of goo in his complete control. He picked up the pace.

“Anything for you baby. You gonna cum with me? Huh? You ready?” And then I exploded. I mean, all orgasms are nice, but then there are those where you see stars. I saw stars. I was so absorbed in my own contortions I almost didn't hear Jeff's roar as he came with me. It was beautiful.

We dried off and hopped into bed and assumed my favorite post-orgasm position: me lying on top of Jeff, but to his side, with my head on his chest. I reveled in the comfort of his soft skin, and the cushiness of the soft layer of fat that coated his muscles.

“That was great,” I said, still panting.

“The best, the very best,” he said.

Before I could stop myself, I heard myself say “Better than Stefan?” I felt him tense up, and then relax. We were connecting, and he knew I fucked up.

“You're worried about him,” he said.

“He loves you,” I countered.

“No, he doesn't. He just thinks he does.” Jeff seemed definitive about this.

I moved up on my elbows and looked him in the eyes. “Babe, you're wrong about this one. He loves you.” Jeff grimaced. “Do you love him?” He grimaced even more.

“I'm confused. I thought I did. I knew I had to deal with you first.”

“You make that sound like a chore,” I teased, and kissed his nipple.

“Hardly. But you know what I mean. I'll bet you're dealing with the same situation.” He was so insightful.

“Exactly the same.”

“So what did you tell Sam?” Nice way to turn it on me, I thought, but I let him get away with it.

“I told him that I wasn't sure where you and I were and that I wouldn't know until I put all my anger at you aside and spent some time with you. What did you tell Stefan?”

“I told him that I loved you. That besides you, he was my best friend, but that my heart belongs to you. But I told him that I'd put you through hell, and that you may not want to trust me after that. So I left him in limbo.”

I sighed with frustration and sadness. “So basically we love each other, but we have these other people that we also care deeply for. So what do we do?”

He paused for a minute. “So you still love me?” he asked. I realized that I hadn't admitted that since I'd picked him up.

“No dumb shit. I drop everything on a dime to go on a four day road trip with people I hate.”

“Say it,” he said.

I moved on top of him, lining myself up with him again, and looked him in the eye. “Jeff Hayes, I love you.” And then I slid back and took him inside me again.

March 1, 1968

We got on the road around 10am. We would have been off to an earlier start but we were still reconnecting sexually. God were we reconnecting. It was a shitty day, snowy and windy and cold, but it was great. We were both happy and lighthearted. I lay down across the seat and put my head in his lap and he stroked my hair while he drove. I was hoping he'd get hard so I could blow him, but I'd worn him out last night. I sat up to see where we were after a while. The middle of fucking nowhere and I didn't give a shit.

“I told Ace that Andre was his father,” I said, apropos of nothing.

“How did he take it?”

“He said he thought I was his father, and I told him that he had three fathers. Andre, me, and you. I think he thought that was cool. He wanted to know why Andre never came to see him.”

“What did you tell him?” Jeff was dealing with this casually.

“I told him that Andre was dead, but that he died courageously, and that he was a hero.” We both nodded, knowing that in the masculine psyche, having a dead father was devastating, but if that dead father was a hero, the pride made it much easier to bear.

“Wonder if Billy and Claire will ask those questions?” he said.

“Probably, but it's pretty obvious who fathered them,” I joked.

“I can't wait to see them.”

“They can't wait to see you.” We smiled at each other and drove on.

March 3, 1968

We left Salt Lake City early, determined to make it home by night time. I had originally planned to stop for the night in Reno, but Jeff and I were both anxious to get home. It was 12 hours of driving, but with both of us taking shifts I knew we could make it.

When we crossed into California, I truly felt for the first time that a new chapter in my life had opened. I was happy, almost giddy, but one thing stuck in the back of my mind, one fly remained in the ointment.

“So what are we going to do with these two other great guys?” I asked.

“Why do we have to do anything?” he said.

“What do you mean? Dump them? I can't do that. I mean, I can, but that seems heartless.”

“That's not what I mean. For years we've had an exception for Stefan. Let's have one for Sam too. I told you I want a chance to play with him.” That made me giggle.

“You'll never be able to handle his dick,” I joked.

“Where there's a will, there's a way.” That I'd like to see.

“It's more complicated than that though. They both have feelings for us; it isn't just about the sex.” I was worried that we'd hurt them, and I really couldn't bear to do that.

“You're right, it isn’t. But can't we just play it by ear and see how it goes?”

I snickered. “Sam and I fucked Isidore a couple of times. He likes women too. So there's another wrinkle.”

Jeff started laughing, almost hysterically. “It's like we're living on a commune.”

I smiled. “You know what, that's exactly what it's like. A sexual commune.” I wonder how the three other players would handle that.

We stopped for dinner in Sacramento. There was a good steakhouse along the road that I'd heard of, and I needed a break. We were both ravenously hungry, and I was so busy ordering I didn't notice that Jeff was carrying a manila envelope. Those never seemed to contain good news.

“What's in the envelope?” I asked.

“It's a surprise. Wanna see?”

“No dipshit, I'll just use my psychic abilities to see right through it.” He giggled and handed me the envelope.

I opened it up and for a minute I couldn't figure out what it was. Then I thought to turn it over. It was his diploma from Northwestern. He'd gotten his degree. I put it carefully back in the envelope and felt a tear roll down my face. That really pissed me off. He was looking at me, worried. “What's wrong JP?”

“I'm sorry. I'm just really proud of you. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with my emotions.” He smiled at me and winked. He knew it took something major to make me blow my emotional shell, and that was probably the nicest thing I could do for him. Even if it pissed me off to do it.

“Wait a minute,” I said, looking at the diploma again. “You graduated with honors?”

“Yep.” I grinned at him, amazed at how this white trash Claremont boy had worked his way out of the seedy east side with a football scholarship and ended up graduating from one of America's top institutions with honors.

We rolled into Palo Alto around 10PM. Dinner had set us back a bit, but it had been worth it. I paused at the gates and Jeff looked at the sign. “Our house has a name?” I giggled and he butchered the pronunciation.

“It's ess-core-eee-al” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Right. Escorial. And we don't call San Francisco 'Frisco' either. I'm getting this down.” I laughed, but he'd mastered French, he'd pick up Spanish fast enough.

The kids were sleeping, so Isidore and Stefan were the only ones still up to greet us. Isidore was jubilant, and hugged Jeff over and over again. Stefan did too, but he had a worried look on his face. I could see the internal sadness he was trying to hide. He could tell we'd reconciled, and it hurt him. I pulled him aside.

“I'm so sorry Stefan,” I said. “I never wanted to hurt you. You know that don't you?” He nodded sadly and then hugged me, seeking support. “I'll share, you know.”

“You will?” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“With you, of course. You know I love you. Plus if I share Jeff with you, that means I get to sneak off with you once in awhile too. And you're an amazing piece of ass.”

He giggled. “You are right, I am.” I punched his arm playfully.

March 4, 1968

The kids went nuts the next morning when they saw Jeff. It was really exciting to see how happy they were. I hope he kept it together this time. It had to be tough on their young psyches to have this guy fly in and out of their lives. He took them outside to toss the football around; although at that age it was more about tackling.

I watched them through the window of my study, totally absorbed so I didn't see Sam's Nova until he was up to the house. I watched him get out of the car and almost run over to Jeff. He gave him a big hug, and I could see the smiles on both their faces. This was great; weird, but great. Sam bounded into the house and headed for my bedroom first, and then he found me in the study. He walked up cautiously, but I grabbed him and gave him a kiss.

“You're back! Why didn't you call me?” He wasn't accusing me; he was just excited that I was here.

“We didn't get in until late last night,” I said.

“You guys worked things out pretty well huh?” He got right to the point, and I could tell that his facade was fragile. He was pretty brittle underneath.

“Yeah, we worked things out. We have a lot of history, and the kids...it's just a strong bond.” The facade was cracking; I could see his sadness breaking through. “Do I have to choose between you two?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” He was confused. Who wouldn't be?

“We're together, but we've always made an exception for Stefan. He's just such a sexual being, and so much fun, that neither one of us can resist him. So rather than make it a big deal, we just include him. It's pretty weird, I know.”

“So in other words, you guys are in love, but it's OK if one of you wants to go fuck around with Stefan?”

“Yeah. Pretty fucked up huh? You probably never thought you were wandering into such a weird household did you?”

“Actually, I like it. It's honest, it's open, and it takes into account natural urges and desires. I mean, so many people swear to be faithful, and they can't, and everyone ends up getting hurt. You guys just figured out you were going to be tempted to fuck him, and decided to make him fair game so no one gets bent out of shape.”

“Yeah, it's different. But he's not just a fuck. You know how much I care about him.” He got sad again. “What's the matter?”

“Stefan has all the luck.”

I smiled and kissed him again. “Jeff wants to make an exception for you too. He knows how much I care about you. Plus he thinks you're cute and I think he plans to try to get you in bed, although I'm not sure how that's gonna work.”

Sam grinned. “So are you asking me to join your orgy?”

“Well, it's not like that. I kind of think of it as a sex commune.”

He cracked up at that, and then he kissed me more fervently. “Count me in.”

“There's one catch,” I said as we walked down the corridor.

“What's that?”

“You'll have to move in. I saved a room for you,” I said, opening the door.

“You want me to leave the lap of luxury, my grad student apartment, and come slumming over here?”

“Yeah. And I thought we could break your room in.”

“Right now?” he asked.

“Right now,” I said, closing the door behind us.

After our interlude, we all had lunch together. Stefan seemed to be pretty happy. I assumed that maybe Jeff spent some time with him. Sam announced that he was going over to get his stuff and move in, and Jeff volunteered to go help him, which shocked the shit out of both Stefan and I. It gave me some time to hang out with Isidore, and to find out that she had officially appropriated my Cadillac. I didn't know exactly what I'd do with her Fleetwood in Chicago. I guess I'd sell it along with the Condo. So that meant that I got to go car shopping again. That put a smile on my face.

That night the four of us decided to go swimming, nude of course. I smiled at Stefan who swam around grabbing at everyone. “Hey guys. I want to talk to you.” They all looked at me and realized I was dead serious.

After I got their attention, I continued. “I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I have a problem. I love all of you. There, I said it. I guess I could just say that Jeff and I are a couple, and tell you guys to fuck off, but I don't want to do that. So I'm wondering if, here in 1968, we have to have a 1950's style relationship, or if we can relax and just enjoy life.”

“What did you have in mind JP?” asked Stefan.

“I want to fuck around with all of you.” I giggled as I said it.

“I want to fuck around with just about everyone,” said Stefan, and that made us all laugh.

“So what do you have in mind JP?” Jeff asked.

“We all have a room here in the house. Each door has a lock. You want company, leave your door open. You want some privacy to be alone, or alone with someone else, lock it.”

“I can work with that,” said Sam. Jeff and Stefan both nodded.

“I mean, I know this is totally unconventional, but the world is a fucked up place and I don't know if all those conventional relationships work anyway. I think the toughest part of this is the emotional shit that can come up. We're going to have to be cool about this, not get all bent out of shape if our preferred partner for the night is busy. If one of you wants to fuck Stefan's hot ass, and he's busy, you may just have to go slumming and settle for me.” They laughed at me and Sam reached over and dunked me under the water.

“You know, I've spent the last four years beating off. Now you're telling me that I can get laid by any one, or more than one of three hot guys, well, damn, that's fucking cool.” Sam said this while grinning. Jeff splashed him and the pool time degenerated into just fun.

I went to bed that night and found that I was really excited. I wondered who would come into my room. What if no one did? Well, if that happened, I'd go find someone. I heard my door open and close, and I heard the lock click. Jeff curled up in bed with me. “I get you tonight baby,” he said.

I grinned at him. “Did you talk to Stefan today?”

“Well, I wouldn't call it talking, but I think with your plan we worked things out. I really do love him, but you still have my heart JP. I just want you to know that if push comes to shove, you're my choice.”

“And you're mine. But let’s keep that between us and enjoy our friends. I like having them around.”

“Me too. Sam and I blew each other while we were moving. He's fucking cute. You may be right though. I don't know if I could handle that dick.”

I laughed. “Seems to me that you said that where there's a will there's a way? Maybe we need to do it together, so I can go first and stretch you out a bit.” He snaughed.

I remembered my plan for the morning. “I've got to go car shopping tomorrow. Isidore stole my Cadillac.”

Jeff smiled. “Cool. What are you gonna get?”

“I'm thinking one of those new Corvettes. I'd like to get something nicer for Sam too. You think that would be OK?”

“I think that would be a great idea, but you don't need my permission.”

“I didn't want your permission, just your opinion and your support. That and I'd really like to have your dick in my ass.” He cracked up at that and we merged together.

March 5, 1968

Sam came into the kitchen looking exhausted. Jeff and I started cracking up. “Did Stefan wear you out?” I teased.

“That little fucker can go all night. Damn.” We were laughing so hard I almost hyperventilated. “And now he's sleeping.”

“Let's go get some breakfast,” I said. “You mind driving?” I asked, looking at Sam.

“You want to go in my piece of shit?”

“Yeah. I need to get a new car. Isidore stole my Cadillac, so I thought you could take me car shopping afterwards.” He looked a little concerned.

“Um, I have to work tonight around 4PM. Will we be back by then?”

“It's 10AM now,” I said with a smile. “I figured we'd go car shopping in Sunnyvale, not Guam.” He laughed and we headed to his piece of shit.

“Which dealer? Jaguar? Mercedes? MG?”

I frowned at him. “We talked about this. GM only. Breakfast, then the Chevy dealer.”

We got to the dealership and were tackled by the most obnoxious salesman ever. If you picture the typical car salesman and amplify it by ten, you'd be describing Art Martin.

He looked at Jeff. “A big guy like you, you need an Impala. We've got just the car for you.” I almost couldn't hold back my laughter.

“Well, we're not here for my friend,” I said. “I need a new car.”

Art looked at me, his eyes on his new victim. “Now you, you'd look great in a new Corvair. And I can give you a great deal on that trade-in out there. A '63 right? These Chevys last for years. You just can't buy a better car.”

“I want a Corvette convertible. Orange. You got one?” Jeff and Sam giggled at Art's reaction.

“We've got three of them. This is your lucky day! And we've got great financing rates.”

“That's not necessary. I pay cash.” Art looked at me dubiously, obviously wondering about this longer haired young wimpy guy with two college-aged studs on either side of him. But he got into the spirit of things and led me back to the lot to see two of the Corvettes. They were the base models.

“You said you had one more?” I asked.

“We sure do, but it's the deluxe model. It's got the 427 pumped up engine and it's loaded. Gonna set you back some change.”

“Let's see it,” I said. I loved it. The new styling, like a Mako shark according to Chevy, with an engine that pushed it to 60 mph in less than six seconds. “Make me a good deal on this Art,” I said. I looked at my watch. “I've only got half an hour, so cut it short, OK?”

While Art went and wrangled out prices, we wandered around the showroom and looked at the other cars. Sam hung around one of the new Camaros. “Man, these cars are just it. Look at this,” he said, pointing at the cool dashboard.

Art came out to start dickering and I stopped him. “OK Art, I'm out of time. Your best deal. This Camaro, the Corvette, and the '63 as a trade in. You got one shot to give me a good price. I've got $5000 in cash in my pocket, and I can write you a check for the rest.” I pulled out a wad of bills to emphasize it. My mother would have thought I was crass for flashing money like that, but I humored myself by telling myself that when dealing with guys like Art, there was really no alternative.

There was a guy out looking at Sam's car so I distracted him by making him sit in the Camaro. “You think I should get this instead of the Corvette?” I asked.

“Nah, the Corvette is it. Nothing better. I just like the Camaro.” We were in the car and I reached over and squeezed his hand.

I got out and argued with Art for five minutes then signed all the papers. I gave them the cash, wrote the check, and went out to find Sam. He was still in the Camaro.

“You OK with the way all this turned out?”

He smiled at me. “Not really OK.” I frowned, he smiled. “Fucking thrilled!” I just looked at him. “I knew I really didn't have a chance against Jeff, but I really like you. Oh fuck it. I more than like you. I've fallen for you like a rock.” I grinned at him. “But if we were in the 50's, I'd be all alone. Now at least I have part of you, and I get Stefan and Jeff thrown into the bargain. And you watch. Someday I'm gonna get Jeff to let me fuck him.”

I started laughing hysterically. “Maybe he'll let you fuck him when you let him fuck you,” I said.

He turned to me, dead serious. “No one fucks me until you do. I saved my cherry for you.” I almost kissed him in the middle of the showroom.

I changed the subject. “I got you a present.”

“What did you get me? Some flashy jewelry to show that I'm taken?”

“No. This car.” And I handed him the keys. “You've got some paperwork to sign, that is, if you don't mind trading in the Nova.” He just stared at me.

He finally spoke. “You're kidding? No way. JP, that is way too much. I can't accept that from you.”

“I thought you loved me? Now you reject my gifts?” I said coquettishly. “I bring a lot of baggage with me, but at least I've got lots of money. So let me spoil my boy toy.”

He smiled and hugged me. And took the keys. Jeff came up and interrupted jovially. “Can we get out of here? That damn guy keeps trying to sell me a fucking Impala.” We all laughed and drove off in our new cars. Jeff rode with me. I took the Corvette onto the new Interstate 280 and really let it loose. I stopped after a few miles and let Jeff have a go. He loved it.

“That was nice of you to buy Sam the car. He's a great guy. He's the kind of guy you should be with.”

Where the fuck was this coming from? “No, you're the kind of guy I should be with. You are number one. Don't forget that asshole.” He grinned at me and we headed home.

We drove up to the garage and I found Stefan flirting shamelessly with Rafael. Rafael totally ignored Stefan when we drove up, totally focused on the car. Jeff and I laughed at Stefan’s expression. Stefan wasn't used to being jilted for anyone or anything.

“This is a nice car,” said Rafael with almost a lustful look.

I tossed him the keys. “I won't need it for at least an hour. Go see how it drives.”

“Want some company?” Stefan asked. Rafael just nodded. I don't think he really did, but it was fun to see Stefan work it. The more someone rejected him, the harder he tried. I hope he didn't feel that way about Jeff. That disturbed me, but I figured with our arrangement, I had to be relaxed about it. Besides, Stefan loved me. He'd never purposely hurt me, would he?

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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JP is always trying to do what it takes to make everyone happy and see that they get what they want and need. The problem in this case is that no one is really sure what they truly want and need.

I loved how JP handled the car salesman, and yes, his mother would have been horrified.

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JP's generosity is legend, it's why it stings so bad when people push him away. I wish I could feel better about our heroes but I compare the intense connection JP and Jeff share to any other addiction. So sweet when things are high, so sour when they are low.

The work continues to draw me in and hold me, thank you for creating the vehicle of my addiction.

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On 8/7/2013 at 3:30 PM, centexhairysub said:

JP is always trying to do what it takes to make everyone happy and see that they get what they want and need. The problem in this case is that no one is really sure what they truly want and need.

JP is always trying to make JP happy. Polygamy doesn't work well.

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