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Before they got out of the car, Jak gave Keith a kiss, and one last warning. "I will not gloss over the truth, or lie to your folks, Keith. I'm looking forward to meeting them, but are you sure they're ready for me?" "If they're not, they'll just have to deal with it. I've never before introduced a guy to them that I've been seeing. M'sister, Sharon's met a couple of 'em, but not my folks. They're curious about the man I'm talking about all the time, and I want them t'know how wonderful you are. If they get bent out of shape, or something, we'll deal with it. I think things'll be okay. They're pretty easygoing. Just be yourself. Also, don't worry about holding my hand, or something. They've gotten comfortable with me being gay. Your job will be a . . . stretch . . . for them. But, I think they can handle it." Jak compressed his lips, studied Keith for a moment, then nodded. "Well . . . okay." Keith's folks were wonderful, welcoming Jak as if he were a member of the family. Keith's sister, Sharon, who had to be about Rex's age, even gave him a hug. 'Oh, if my family was only so accepting,' he thought. 'Still, we haven't gotten to the hard part yet.' They seated themselves in the living room, as Keith's mother served some warm spiced cider, while they waited for dinner. "Have you been on vacation, Jak? You've got such a wonderful tan. Keith told us you grew up here in town," Mrs. Massey said, as she settled herself on the sofa, opposite her son and his boyfriend. 'Here it comes,' Jak thought, feeling his mouth suddenly go dry. "No, ma'am. This is my vacation. I have a job down in Florida. I grew up here, and I've been visiting my . . . family, and getting to know Keith. I'll be home for about a month. After that, I'll be down there for two or three weeks; then, I'll be back. It'll be something like that for the next couple years." "So . . . you do lots of traveling?" Jak thinly smiled, and jerked a nervous nod. "Yeah. I've never done much traveling, as I grew up. I guess I must be making up for it now. It seems as if I'm in an airplane all the time, which is not too cool, since I'm not a big fan of flying." "And, what do you do for a living? Keith loves to travel. Maybe he should consider getting into the same field." "Now . . . there's a thought," Keith mumbled. "Um, Mom, don't freak," Keith warned. Sharon's eyes lit, with the expectation of something exciting about to happen. 'Keith's always seen such boring guys,' she thought. 'Jak is anything but boring. I am jealous! I wonder if he has a brother who looks just like him.' "Freak?" Mrs. Massey asked, puzzled. "I'm an actor," Jak supplied. "In porn," he completed, into a dead silence. "Whoa!" Keith's sister crowed. "Very cool! I've never met a porn-actor-guy before! Way-to-go, Keith!" she shouted, as she patted him on the shoulder. "F'real? I thought those types of guys all came from California, or someplace exotic; not here. This place is as dull as dirt," she concluded, squirming slightly, then settling back with crossed arms. She glanced from her brother and his friend, to her mother and father. A slight smile played about her father's lips, while her mother appeared stunned. "I'm trying to think what to say," Mrs. Massey mumbled. "Henry," she asked, turning to her husband. "Say something." "Um," Mr. Massey' eyes shifted from his son, to his wife, and, finally, to Jak, who impressed him by not being apologetic, and sat ready to answer any questions. "I've never met any sort of actor before," he mused. "Porn, huh?" "Yes, sir," Jak replied, looking him in the eye, recognizing an advocate. "Gay or straight?" Henry asked, then flicked a glance at his wife, who vented a disgusted sigh. "Gay," Jak answered. "I was asked if I'd do straight porn, but I told 'em 'no'. I'm not excited at all by women," he said, then glanced toward Keith's sister. "Don't worry, Sharon; just 'cause your brother and I are gay doesn't mean every nice guy is." His wink and rakish grin caused her to blush. "There are plenty of guys out there who like women." "How long?" Henry asked. "I mean, how long have you been doing it?" he amended the question, "acting . . ." "In porn," Jak supplied. Mr. Massey nodded, giving his wife a quelling glance, as she was about to say something. "Less than a couple months." "Why?" Mrs. Massey finally asked. "Money, pure and simple," Jak responded, in a matter-of-fact tone. "When I was in college, I found myself working every waking hour at a home improvement center, to pay for tuition, support a car, which was falling apart, and help my folks make ends meet. Since I was living at home, I thought it was only right that I make a contribution. My folks wanted to help me pay for school, but they couldn't. My dad has a good job, but it never seemed to be enough to support my mom, my younger brother, my sister, and me. My sister is a pretty high-maintenance person. So," he shrugged, "I saw this job as an opportunity for me. "Excuse me if I offend you, Mrs. Massey," Jak added, as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands, "but I love sex. I am being paid very, very well, and when my contract is up, I will have plenty of money to do almost anything I wish." "How did this . . . start?" "I was approached by someone in the lunch room, at college, and offered this job." "Job?" she asked incredulous. "Is that what you call it?" "Dear . . ." Henry Massey murmured, in warning. "Be nice." "That's what it is, a job. Oh, I enjoy it, but it is a job, nothing more. And . . . as I've said, I am paid very, very well. In fact, I about dropped my jaw when I saw my first paycheck. It would have taken me years, working at the home improvement center, to make what I made at this job, in three weeks." Both of Keith's parents appeared impressed, while his sister voiced a low, "wow." "This can't go on forever," Mr. Massey queried. "What do you plan to do when," he shrugged, "you're too old, or whatever?" "I plan to go back to college; only this time, I won't have to scrimp and scrape just to make ends meet. I don't hold any illusions about how long I'll be able to do this." He thought a moment, then grinned. "I mean, I'll still be able, but someone new will have probably come along, and I'll be put out to pasture, so to speak. Right now, I'm the new face. That can only last so long." "What do your parents think of what you're doing?" Keith's mother asked. "You mean, my job?" Jak responded, catching Mr. Massey's nod of approval. "My father's very supportive, as is my younger brother. As for my mother . . . she doesn't know. She knows I'm gay, of course, but that's something my sister only just found out. She went ballistic, ahem . . . to put it mildly. My sister, I mean. My father suggested that adding what I do, to the already volatile situation, with my sister, wouldn't be very constructive. "One has to realize, that my sister has an extremely narrow view of what's acceptable, and, no matter how I earned a living, it would not be appropriate to her. She has very high aspirations, which is fine. The trouble is, with her attitude, about everything, I don't think her goals are attainable. She's a very unhappy woman, and the trouble is, with her behavior, she's making other people miserable. That's too bad. "As for my mother. She's a levelheaded person. She would probably not be too excited by my job, but she already knows that I am a pretty stable sort'a guy who's not out to bring down ruin on the family name. Otherwise," Jak grinned. "If she was upset, she'd learn to live with it." "How did you two meet, Keith?" Mrs. Massey asked, appearing to steel herself, lest she not like the answer. "At the mall," Keith supplied. "In the parking lot." "I slipped on the ice. Keith saw me go down." "With a yelp," Keith supplied, grinning, taking Jak's hand and linking fingers. The significance of the move was not lost on any of the Massey family. Keith's mother did her best to ignore Jak's quick glance as well as the tender smile the two men exchanged, but was having a difficult time. 'He seems like such a nice boy,' she thought, 'and it's clear he cares a great deal for Keith. Still . . .' "When he heard me shout in surprise, as I fell, he came over to see if I was okay," Jak added. 'Keith's so . . . warm,' Jak thought, as he felt his cock twitch. 'I love how he smells. Ohhh, how I'd love to . . . explore . . .' "Not my idea of romance," Sharon groaned, in disappointment, diverting Jak's attention. "I was expecting something more . . . dramatic." "Believe me, slipping on the ice and landing flat on my back, with my groceries scattered around me, was dramatic enough," Jak smiled. "Keith helped me gather things up and get everything in my car. Then, as thanks, I offered to buy him coffee." "Then you had sex, I suppose," Keith's mother said, apologizing to her son and Jak, with a repentant look. "Mother!" "No, ma'am," Jak responded, calmly, tightening his fingers, warning Keith to not let his mother upset him, even if she had instantly regretted her question. "Keith and I have not yet had sex. We have spent a lot of time together, though; every minute of which has been wonderful. We have slept together. We've gone out on dates, to the movies, or whatever, and to dinner, almost every night." "What? No sex!" Sharon squawked. "That's no fun!" "Wanna bet?" her brother murmured. "Well, what do you do . . . on your dates, other than eat and go to a movie?" Keith's mother asked, unable to keep from being amused at her daughter's indignant exclamation. "We laugh, we hold hands, and we've kissed a lot." The look Jak gave her son caused even Mrs. Massey's heart to soften. Jak chuckled. "I've become very good friends with the owners of a candle shop near the place where I'm staying." "Every night, he's got a couple dozen fresh candles flickering, whenever I visit him," Keith told his family. "I'm a romantic sort'a guy," he explained. "I love the candles, and Jak, for thinking of me. Mother, Jak and I have spent some evenings sitting on a sofa, holding one another, or putting some soft music on and dancing in the candlelight. We laugh and joke. I've also found I'm a better wrestler than he is." "That is a matter of opinion," Jak dryly added, noting Mr. Massey's grin. "Oh, cool! Now, it's getting better! Dancing in candlelight. So . . . you say you love him?" Sharon asked her brother. "Sharon!" "What?" "We've not known one another long enough to claim we love one another. I do, though, think he's the nicest man I've ever met . . . and the sweetest," Keith answered, in a soft voice. "I think he's the nicest man you've ever met, too," Sharon mumbled, crossing her arms. "At least he's not dead dull." "Nothing more?" Mrs. Massey asked, unable to stop herself. 'I've got to stop this behavior,' she told herself. 'I don't even know what I hope to accomplish by quizzing the poor boy.' "Ma'am, I've told you. We have not had sex. I expect we will, when we both feel the time is right. But, so far, we haven't." "You're being rude, Mother. Jak's not asked you what you and Dad do when you're alone together." "That's easy. Watch television," Mr. Massey supplied, ignoring his wife's look of resignation. Sharon snorted a laugh, and covered her mouth. "We do some of that, too," Jak grinned. "But, you have sex all the time!" "Mrs. Massey, having sex is my job. I enjoy what I do, but I can do other things. In fact, I love to do other things. I enjoy Keith, because he has not hounded me to jump into bed with him. He's taken the time to learn that I am something more than a sex object. "That's what I am, when I'm working . . . an object. I'm okay with that, since it's part of my job. But, when I'm not working, I want to be Jak Rollins, not the guy everyone sees on their computer. When I'm at work, I'm fulfilling someone else's fantasies, not my own. My own include things like holding Keith's hand, and snuggling in front of the television, and doing lots of kissing." "Is he a good kisser?" Sharon asked. "There's none better," Jak grinned, winking at Keith, who blushed. "Um, I guess you should know, huh?" "Sharon!" "Mrs. Massey, Mr. Massey, I care for Keith, a great deal. I'm not here to take advantage of him, or hurt him. I am just like him, other than my job. Please try to understand that what I do is a job, nothing more. I like the guys I work with, but I don't care for them, like I do Keith. "Keith and I don't want to hide what I do from you. I've not hidden it from my family, and I don't want to hide anything from you. Nor does Keith." "Wait till I tell everyone!" Sharon gushed. "Sharon!" Keith turned towards his sister. "What?" "Sharon, Keith and I are here to discuss something private, but of great importance, with your folks. It's not something you should feel free to speak of to your friends." "Otherwise, you're welcome to talk about Jak and me, but there is nothing to be gained by mentioning his job." Keith lowered his voice. "Please, Sharon. It just wouldn't be cool." "Oh . . . okay," Sharon squirmed, beneath her brother's stare. "I promise. But, I don't see anything wrong with what Jak does." "Neither do I. But . . . well . . . just don't." "Okay." "Mother?" "I do appreciate the honesty of you both, but, even if I disapproved, I don't have any say in the matter, do I?" "No, not really, but I hate doing something which I know makes you angry, or disappointed in me. "I'm not angry, Keith. Nor, am I disappointed. I need some time to . . . absorb . . . this news, but, like I said, I thank you both for being forthright, and I am pleased you are seeing someone who cares for you. And, Jak . . ." she paused. "Thank you. I only want what is best for Keith. It's clear you care for one another, a great deal. So . . . thank you." Jak nodded once, before glancing at Keith with a fond smile. "Thank you for coming to us . . . both of you," Mr. Massey added. "I appreciate it." He grinned. "I never knew Keith was a wrestler." "He's not," Jak quickly responded, "but, then, neither am I. Besides, we don't really wrestle. We just do a lot of laughing, and carrying-on, as we roll around on the floor. I just like to tease him." He glanced to the side, wearing a grin. "He does the same with me." "Have you seen one of his videos?" Sharon asked her brother. "Um . . . no, not yet," he said, glancing toward Jak. "I want to see the real thing, before seeing it on the computer." "Very cool! I'm blown away by all this. I mean, a man who loves to kiss, in a room filled with flickering candlelight, and, with soft music playing, too!" Her brother's nod caused her to sigh. "You don't happen to have a brother, do you?" she asked Jak, her eyes brightening. "As a matter of fact, I do. He's your age, and looks a lot like me, but with more hair. He's a lot more forward than I am, and is going to make someone very happy, I'm sure. The only problem is, I'm not too sure he's very much into young ladies." "You mean he's gay . . . too? Are all the nice guys gay?" She flopped back against her chair and glared at Keith, as she crossed her arms. "I think that sucks." She quickly held out a hand. "Wait . . . I don't mean you guys . . . suck! Wait!" her voice slid upward. "That didn't turn out right, either." When her brother grinned, she added. "You know what I mean." Keith smiled. "As far as waiting until the time is right, like we were talking about a couple minutes ago, I'm certainly looking forward to . . . it," Keith chuckled, nudging Jak, who surprised Mrs. Massey, by blushing. "So, you both sit in a room filled with candlelight and soft music, holding hands and kissing. What do you talk about?" she asked. "Lots'a the time, Mom, we don't talk about anything. It's enough for me to sit, with Jak holding my hand, snuggling close. It's amazing how much you can communicate without talking." "Ahhhhh," Sharon sighed. "Gay guys have it all. I'm sooo jealous." "I'm curious." Mrs. Massey studied Jak, as if seeing him in a new light. "How'd you figure Keith would respond to the romance of what you describe?" Jak shrugged, glancing toward Keith. "I didn't figure anything out. The romance of the candles and music are things I respond to well. I've never had a boyfriend before, y'see. I figured if I set the place up so that I would like it, and if Keith didn't laugh, or anything, besides having a lot of other stuff going for him, he'd be someone I'd like to get serious about. "There's a lot more to your son than his good looks." Keith turned to his sister, who was about to speak. "And, no, Sharon, he wasn't referring to that." "Well, now that that's settled," Henry Massey said, pushing himself out of his chair, and offering a hand to Jak. "I'm glad t'know you, Jak. You take care of my son, y'hear?" he added, as Jak returned the firm handshake. "Daaad." "He's a big guy, Mr. Massey. He can take care of himself, but I intend to stick around and help out in any way that I can. I know he feels the same way about me. I think we're a pretty good match," Jak said, as he slipped an arm around Keith's waist, and held him close. "Ahhhhhh." Sharon Massey's sigh was echoed by Keith's mother, who glanced toward her husband, in a calculating manner. A few hours later, after an excellent dinner, and a long television movie, Mr. Massey nudged his wife and nodded to his son and Jak. The two young men were holding hands, but Jak had fallen asleep, and was resting his head on Keith's shoulder. As his parents left the room, Keith grinned, when he heard his mother murmur, "Henry, tomorrow, let's go buy some candles." "C'mon, sleepyhead," Keith coaxed, after he heard the door to his parent's room close. "It's time to get you home and into your own bed. I need driving instructions, though, since I don't know where home is." Jak looked up and blinked, then glanced around. "Oh, geez, I'm sorry," he said, sitting up and yawning. "Your folks must think I'm awful." "Nah, they asked me to kiss you good night. But, I intended to do that anyway." He helped Jak to his feet. "All those things you said about me were really sweet. Do you really intend to stick around?" he asked, as he embraced Jak. "Ummm hmmm," he murmured, nuzzling Keith's hair, as they held one another. Jak stretched, and yawned again, then rubbed his eyes. "Now, Mr. Massey. There's something I've been wanting t'ask you all night." "Oh?" Keith grinned, holding Jak in a loose embrace, with his arms around his waist. "Ummm hmmm," Jak murmured, close to Keith's ear. "Would you like t'come home with me, and spend the night, skin-to-skin? Whenever I'm around you, I seem to get an erection which won't go away." He grinned at his friend's radiant expression, and tenderly groped Keith through his jeans. "I'm talking about sex, in case you hadn't figured that out. The moment I saw you at the airport, I knew that I would ask you. Will you? Come home with me, I mean," he said. "I'm hoping you will. "I would like nothing more than to spend the entire weekend making love, and enjoying your humor, your tongue, your sexy body, your dick, your sperm, your butt, as well as anything else I might have left out. When we met, you gave me time to learn about myself. You were patient with me, and," Jak grinned, "I hope to show you . . . before the next hour is over, exactly how much I appreciate all you've done." "I've done nothing." "Oh, you're wrong. Without you, I would have grown to believe that acting like Soren was the only way I could act . . . that it was the right way to act. There's nothing wrong with acting that way, but . . . deep down . . . I am a man who also enjoys holding you close, listening to your stories, hearing you laugh, meeting your folks, sitting across from you at dinner, and, at your side, while we're alone. I found out that I'm a man who enjoys holding you close, as we slowly dance, surrounded by candlelight. If I'd never met you, I might have never realized any of these things. "Will you spend the night with me . . . in a real honest-to-goodness bed?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "So we can make love . . . over and over again?" "Oh . . . yes! I . . . I . . ." Keith took Jak's hand. "I'm afraid of the "L" word, though. I was hurt once. It wasn't a whole lot more than a teenager's crush, but . . ." he shrugged. "At the time, I didn't realize that. Things didn't work out, and I hurt. I take things so seriously that I'm afraid of what it'll mean if I let myself love you. What I already feel . . . it . . . it scares me t'death." Jak took Keith's hand. "Then, let's not talk about love, or of being apart, or our fears, or anything else like that. Let's go to a real hotel, and be together. If all we do is get naked and sleep at one another's side . . . that'll sort'a be okay." He grinned. "I'm hoping we do a little more than that, however." Keith softly snorted. "After telling me you'd like to taste my sperm, sleeping side-by-side . . . and nothing more is not likely. Besides, I'm sooo leaking in my pants, already, just thinking about tasting your juice, or having you in me, or me in you, or . . . so, yes! Let's go!" He rushed down the hall to his room, grabbed his gym bag, and jogged back into the living room, motioning for Jak to hurry. "Let's get this show on the road, or I'm gonna get so friggin' worked up, I might shoot in my jeans, instead of on, or in you." "In me?" Jak laughed, as he turned his back to Keith, leaned forward, and rubbed the seat of his pants over Keith's erection. "Uuuuu, I can feel it now," he laughed. "Stop that!" Keith jumped, and gave Jak a slap on the butt. * * * Rex leaned back in the car seat and looked at his father. "That was nice, huh . . . having Jak back, and having a chance to talk to Keith. The more I see him, the more I like him." Rex frowned, puzzled by his father's uncharacteristic silence. "Dad, are you still thinking about Jak . . . y'know, as a partner, or something?" Steve jerked a look toward his son, then slowly grinned. "You mean, because I'm withdrawn?" Rex nodded. "No." Steve heaved a sigh. "I was thinking about your sister and mother." "Ohhh?" Rex hazarded a response. Whenever his sister was involved, he found it difficult to think straight. 'That girl's nothing but trouble,' he thought, not for the first time. "What has she done now?" "You mean your sister?" Rex merely nodded, unwilling even to acknowledge the relationship. "She's experienced her eighteenth birthday, and true-to-her-word, she's moved out of the house." "Too bad it's not out of our lives," Rex mumbled. "Okay, where'd she go to roost? Far away, I hope. And, how's she going to support herself?" His eyes widened. "Dad, don't tell me you're supporting her . . . please." Steve barked a laugh. "She had the nerve to ask me to. Suddenly, all will be forgiven . . . if I give her an even thousand a month . . . just until she gets on her feet." "What? You've got to be kidding? A thousand dollars? Dad, she will never ever get on her feet. She's incapable of that." Rex lowered his voice. "You didn't agree to that, did you? I mean, that girl's got balls, asking you for money, especially after how she's been treating you for the last couple months!" "No. I'm not giving her anything." Steve sighed, "but I believe your mother is. She told me, yesterday, that she'd be away for a couple weeks, helping Aubrey out. She also tried to get me to agree to pay for the move, the apartment, and some other things. She didn't like it when I told her no. "I reminded her that Aubrey has always had it within her power to change my attitude, and has deliberately chosen not to do so. I reminded her of the names the young lady has called me, and the threats to call the police to complain about how I was abusing her by not granting her every wish." Steve sighed. "I reminded your mother about many things. She claimed the behavior was part of growing up." Steve laughed. "I agreed . . . that the behavior was that of a child, and, since Aubrey had declared herself an adult, she could shoulder the responsibilities of an adult, and fend for herself." "Good for you!" "Rex, I don't believe that your mother's and my relationship will make it through this. It's not only Aubrey, but she's a large part of the problems we're having. That's what's bothering me. I genuinely do care for your mother, a great deal. She's a wonderful person." "Do you want your relationship to make it through? What sort of relationship would you and Mom have if it did? We both know Aubrey will never apologize to you . . . no matter what, and, with Mom giving her support, it'll only make Aubrey even more stubborn." "Your mother told me she's going to return to teaching. I congratulated her, but warned her that, if she didn't do something, quickly, Aubrey will suck her dry, then spit her out, the moment someone else comes along who will give her everything she wishes." Steve shook his head. "Your mother didn't like hearing that. "I didn't like to say it, but it's true. I ask myself what I did wrong to cause that young lady to turn out like she has. You and your brother are completely different. I think I treated all of you the same." "It's not a question that can be answered. If you try, you'll end up going crazy, or something. Jak's and my expectations are different, that's all. We look at the world differently than she does. So," Rex asked, as his father pulled into the driveway of the family home. "Where does all this leave everything?" "Another unanswerable question," Steve said, as he rested an arm over his son's shoulders, as they entered the house. "I have got such a headache, I can barely think. I've got to lie down." He turned to Rex, as they walked down the hallway to the bedroom. "How did life get so complicated? I've always tried to do the right thing, by each of you kids . . . and your mother." "Two out of three kids turning out okay isn't too bad," Rex quipped, ignoring the over-the-glasses look of displeasure of his father's. "C'mon, Dad, strip and lay down. I can give you one of my patented massages," Rex said, as he wiggled his fingers in front of his father, wearing one of his best mischievous grins. "Keith took me out to lunch the other day," Rex continued, as his father stripped, climbed onto the center of the bed, and lay on his stomach, cradling his head in his folded arms. Rex stripped, dimmed the lights, picked up the bottle of massage oil, which now had a permanent place on the bedside table, and climbed onto the bed, straddling his father's lower back. "Why're you and Keith seeing one another?" Steve looked over his shoulder. "You're not trying to do anything sexual with him, are you?" Rex laughed. "Are you kidding? He's at least ten years too young for me" "What'd you guys talk about?" "He wasn't thinking," Rex said, as he spread some oil onto his hands, rubbed them together to warm the oil, then spread it over his father's shoulders. He dug his fingers into the tense muscles, pleased with the sigh of contentment from the man beneath him. "You weren't doing this to him, by any chance?" Steve asked, in a lazy voice. "If you were, I can understand him not thinking." "Thanks, I think. S'it feel good?" Rex asked, as he rocked his bare hips over his father's lower back. "Ummmmm," Steve dreamily replied. "You're damn good. So . . . he wasn't thinking . . ." "Well . . . it seems to me . . ." Steve interrupted. "It does, does it? Rex, you've got to let people at least attempt to run their own lives before you step in. Your advice is excellent, but . . ." "I just wanted him to think. I mean, whether he and Jak know it or not, they're in love with each other. So, what does that tell you? They need to be together . . . all the time. Well, not 24/7, but you know what I mean. Not this three week on, four week off stuff." "So you suggested to Keith that he leave his family and move down to Florida." Rex hesitated. "Well . . . I didn't phrase it like that, but you're basically right. I mean . . . he can go to school down there, as easily as he can here. He and Jak would be together, and you and I could move our stuff down there, so we could all enjoy the Florida-life together . . . all as happy as clams. See?" Rex crowed. "Simple, huh?" Before his father could say anything, Rex lay forward, and stretched out on top of his father, his erection wedged between his father's butt cheeks. "Ummm, this is nice," he said, as he kissed his father's neck and shoulders. "Is your headache better? "You're so strong n'stuff, compared with me," he murmured, in his father's ear. Rex turned his head to see his and his father's reflection in the mirrored closet doors. 'What a sight,' he thought, as he began to slowly thrust his hips, dragging his erection back and forth between his father's ass cheeks, which tightened to grasp him. "Y'like that?" he asked his father. "S'wonderful," Steve murmured. "You make me hard, y'know," he mumbled. "Being naked with you always makes me want to shoot," he said, as he thrust back against his son. "So . . . what are we gonna do about it? We've both got a load we'd like t'get rid of. What's that tell you?" "You know damn well what it tells me," Steve grumbled. "Now, get off my back." "Huh?" Rex asked, as he rolled to the side. Steve rolled onto his back. He spread some of the massage oil over his own erection and watched as Rex scrambled to his knees, maneuvering close, never taking his eyes off the older man's penis, and the slow movements of his hand. 'We both know where the other is coming from,' Steve thought, glancing to his fourteen year-old son. 'Fifteen next week,' he amended his thought, 'but he's still my son. I would love to be intimate, but doing so would not be fair to him, no matter how much he would protest otherwise. 'Rex deserves to be treated as something more than a substitute. He knows I need to find someone my own age, but he's right about one thing. We both need . . . physical contact, the . . . touching, that being together, like this gives us. It's not only a sexual release, it's a level of intimacy I've not experienced for years, and one which Rex has only imagined. The feel of his warm body against mine, a few minutes ago, his weight . . . hell, even the feeling of love he conveyed, merely by giving me a massage, was more satisfying than anything I've experienced in years. Being together, like this, skin-to-skin, is giving us something we both need. Sure, we're getting our rocks off, but we're also growing . . . closer, both physically and emotionally. It's a togetherness we need now, in the face of what's going on with the women in the family.' Steve wanted to snort. 'Family! Other than Rex and Jak, and me, the people in this house haven't been a family for years. The boys think all this started recently. They're wrong. It's been going on for years. That's why I need this . . . touching. It's something I haven't had since . . . I can't remember when. I love Rex, of course, both as a son, and as a . . . what is he . . . a playmate? He's more than that; yet, he's not my lover.' "Stop trying to analyze your feelings, Dad," Rex murmured, uncannily reading his father's emotions. "Just go with the flow." "Got'cha. So, why don't you climb aboard," Steve grinned, patting his stomach. "I was just thinking how good it felt, a few moments ago, to feel your warmth, and weight, on top of me." He winked. "The kissing wasn't half-bad, either. Let's see how good we are at shooting while we kiss and you squirm about on me. Has anyone ever told you you're an awesome kisser?" "Yeah . . . you." "Well . . . let's make sure you haven't lost your touch," Steve chuckled. "I'd be more worried about you, than me," Rex countered, as he eased himself onto his father. They looked into one another's eyes. The corners of Rex's lips twitched as he watched his father. There was uncertainty in the older man's eyes, but there was also a depth of love he'd never seen before. There was also a growing passion. It was enough to silence any wise ass remarks, and drink up the look, to be brought out and savored later. "You are wonderful," Steve murmured. "Thank you so much for being here for me. Not only for this," he grinned, as he wrapped is arms around the younger man, and held him close, "but, as someone who actually listens to me, when I talk. You're not being nice to me because you want something; you're just being my wonderful son, a young man whom I have no doubt loves me, just because I am. That, plus your touch . . . your . . . warmth, means so much. I . . . I just can't tell 'ya." He grinned. "My little boy," he murmured, as he kissed Rex on the tip of the nose. "We're here for each other, Dad. We need one another, to get through all the stuff going on." He touched his lips to his father's, marveling at their softness. 'The man's so strong,' Rex thought. 'Yet he and I are both hurting, whether we talk about what we feel, or not.' Their lips touched again, this time in a lingering kiss, which, moments later led to kisses of passion. Rex arched his back, meeting each thrust of his father's, as their oily penises rubbed against one another's. Their movements were like a well choreographed dance. One minute Steve led, as he dug his fingers into the muscles of his boy's buttocks and felt his son's erection slide against his. The next minute, Rex led, as he buried his tongue deep in his father's open mouth and slowly rocked his hips, slowly bringing both himself, and his father, closer to an explosive climax. "Oh, Dad," Rex groaned, pulling away from his father's mouth, an instant before his body stiffened, jerked, then, in perfect timing, both he and his father shot, trapping their jiz between their bodies. "Sheesh, that was sweet," Rex half-laughed, as he rolled off his father, feeling totally spent. "We're not done yet," Steve said, in a rough voice. "Turn around." "Huh?" "Sixty-nine position, Rex. I wanna lick you clean, at the same time you do me." "Aw, fuck, what a good idea." Instead of slurping up his and his father's combined loads from his father's belly, chest, and pubes, though, he rubbed his nose and face through sticky liquid, and only when his face was thoroughly covered, did he lick what was left off his father. He quickly shifted position. "Damn, that tastes awesome.," he said, climbing back onto his father, as a thick strand of jiz dangled from his chin. "Your job is to lick all this juice off." Steve smiled, and extended his tongue, as his son leaned close. * * * Jak hefted his heavy gym bag, then nudged Keith with his hip, as the blond man moved to his side. "Hey Handsome," Jak said, in a low voice. When Keith returned the smile, Jak sidled closer. "I think you're pretty special." Keith bowed his head, feeling the heat of a blush on his cheeks. 'Something's changed, since the last time he was here,' Keith thought. 'He seems so much more self-assured. He never would have nudged me with his hip last time, or told me I was special in that tone of voice . . . or made such an impression on my folks. Damn, by the time we'd finished dinner, Mom was hanging on his every word, and Sharon!' Keith grinned, as he and Jak approached the entry to the hotel, a much grander place than Keith envisioned when Jak mentioned a hotel. 'Sharon!' he repeated, resuming his earlier thought. 'She was in love with him the moment he winked at her. Hell, she started acting like a little girl, blushing and giggling. 'And . . . Dad!' he thought, as Jak held open the door to the hotel for him. 'I think he would have liked to take Jak aside and ask him all about the porn business. He probably would have, if Mom and Sharon weren't around! 'So . . . what's different about him? Am I witnessing some of his Soren persona? He claims not, saying that he leaves Soren down in Florida. Keith grinned, as they approached the registration desk. Since it was late, the only people around were those heading to the bar, where it sounded as if a loud party was taking place. 'If Jak thinks I'm going to play Mister Timid to his aggressiveness, whether it originates with Jak, or with Soren, he's going to be surprised. Two can play at this . . . dominance . . . game!' He wanted to chuckle. 'Damn, but he looks good.' Keith smiled, as the hotel employee staffing the desk did a second take, then glanced at him, before returning his attention to Jak. "Hi," Jak said, in an assertive voice. "I have a reservation, for the next month." He gave the clerk his name, identification, and credit card. "Month!" Keith wanted to squawk. "Um . . ." After another glance toward Keith, the wide-eyed clerk, blushed, tearing his eyes away from both men. "Here you go," he smiled, handing Jak two keycards. "And . . ." the clerk hesitated. "Um, may I have your autograph? I've loved every one of your vids." He hesitantly pushed a piece of hotel stationery, and pen, in Jak's direction, blushing when he caught Keith's attention. "Sure," Jak responded, turning a brilliant smile on the excited man. After asking the clerk's name, he scribbled a brief message, and signed with a flourish, then handed the pen to the clerk. 'Wait!' Keith wondered. 'When he was here last, Jak told me he absolutely hated it when people recognized him! And, I know he's not using his normal handwriting. He'd never scrawl something like he just did! Is this an act, put on for the benefit of the clerk?' Keith flicked a glance at the man who was doing his best not to stutter his thanks. 'Well, he is certainly impressed. Is Jak just giving him what he expects? After all, the clerk expects Soren, so am I witnessing nothing more than an act, on Jak's part?' Keith flicked another glance, and a tentative smile, at the clerk, as Jak gathered him in, with a glance, and an "after you" motion. As he and Jak headed to the elevators, Keith could feel the clerk's eyes on his back. He wanted to squirm, or look over his shoulder and tell the guy to mind his own business. 'A month!? Jak's paid to stay in this place for a whole month? Surely he's never been here, yet he's acting like he owns the place! Maybe this is like the place he stays at in Florida. Who knows? But . . . sheesh, I was expecting the Econo-Lodge, or something; not this.' The elevator doors silently closed, and they began the assent to their floor. Jak glanced at him and grinned, gently holding him with an arm around his waist, which he never removed, as the elevator silently slid open, and they walked down the hall to their room. "Let me," Keith said, holding out a hand for one of the keycards. 'Heh, heh,' he wanted to snicker. 'So you think you can play Soren with me do you?' Keith slid the key into the slot, then pushed the door open, pleased with Jak's slightly puzzled expression, as he passed. "Okay, Mister," Keith said, the moment the door to the room closed, and both he and Jak had dropped their bags. Jak turned to face him. "Mister?" The corners of Jak's lips twitched. "That's right. C'mere," Keith ordered, as he mashed his mouth against Jak's and dug his fingers into Jak's muscular buttocks, grinding their groins together. "So, you don't think I'm a good wrestler?" he asked, as he backed the wide-eyed Jak toward the enormous bed, until it touched the back of his knees. They were both still wearing their winter gear, but Keith was intent on sending a loud and clear message. "You think you can play Soren with me?" he asked, pulling Jak to him for an aggressive kiss, which left both men breathless. "Well, you can't," Keith said, as he pushed the surprised man backward onto the plush bedding, then climbed on top of him, for another kiss. "I'm going to make you mine," Keith murmured, as he thrust his hips forward, feeling Jak's erection beneath his own. "You . . . Jak Rollins, are here with me, tonight . . . not Soren. Remember that. You've said that you leave Soren down in Florida." Keith aggressively thrust himself against the man beneath him. "Make sure he stays down there." Jak sobered, and his eyes, took on a new . . . respect, for the man on top of him. "I will," he murmured, looking away. Keith jerked a single nod, then continued. "And, by morning, you're going to give me an autograph . . . on the skin of my butt." "Yessir." "I'm serious, Jak." "As am I. Believe me, I wasn't trying to joke around." Keith rolled off Jak, landing on his back, with a whoosh of expelled breath. "Good! Now that we've got that settled, we can both start acting like ourselves." Jak propped himself up on an elbow and ran a hand over Keith's cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't know . . . I wasn't . . . aware." Keith took Jak's hand and kissed it. "Then I'll stick around and help you remember. Deal?" "Deal."
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