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Author's note: This version of Soren replaces the story that currently appears on this website. I did not like how the Soren character was developing, and decided that the only way to correct the problem was to rewrite the story. I hope you enjoy the rewrite, and as always, I would be interested to hear your thoughts. roynm@mac.com

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Jak Rollins licked across the palm of his hand, captivated by the thick strand of sperm connecting his tongue with his slime-covered fingers. Slurping up the results of his own orgasms had been a ritual he'd followed since he'd shot his first load, five years earlier. He squeezed the length of his slowly softening penis, milking out whatever sperm remained, then sucked each finger clean.

'Other men's jiz tastes great,' he often thought, 'but I like mine best. That doesn't mean that I don't love sucking on a guy though.' Jak thought about how much he loved the feeling of a man's cock as it pulsed, coating his tongue with salty-sweet liquid. He would hold the hot semen in his mouth, savoring its flavor, until forced to swallow.

"Perfect! You're hired!"

Jak's eyes flew open as reality reasserted itself. Instead of being alone, he was in a fancy hotel room with three completely clothed men, not much older than himself. He'd been so wrapped up giving himself pleasure, he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. Two of the men gestured in his direction as they spoke to one another. The third, the one Jak labeled as the boss, glanced toward him and grinned, yet remained silent.

Jak looked away from the tall, curly-haired man's gaze. 'How is it possible for me to feel more naked than I already am? I shouldn't be embarrassed. After all, I've just finished masturbating in front of three strangers. I've shot a load, sucked my fingers clean, and am now sprawled on a hotel room bed with my legs spread wide. Hell, if I can do all that, in front of total strangers, I shouldn't be embarrassed by much of anything.' He felt another dollop of sperm ooze from his cock, and, without conscious thought, wiped his finger over the head of the rapidly shrinking organ and licked it clean. 'I wanna take a nap,' he wanted to tell the men as he stifled a yawn, too exhausted to move.

"I've never seen someone so at ease in front of strangers," he heard one of the men say. "Where'd you find him? He's perfect! Sexuality oozes from every pore. Hell, I was about ready to pop, just watching him shoot!"

Jak frowned. 'Huh?' he groggily surrendered himself to a yawn. 'What does he mean, I've got sex oozing from every pore.' He raised his head and glanced down to his chest which was still coated with a sheen of perspiration. "That's just sweat!" he wanted to say. 'I do enjoy being naked around other men, but most guys like the same thing, whether they admit it or not. I'm just a regular guy.'

Jak half-listened to the two men prattle on. After deciding he was not going to be allowed to take a nap, he propped himself up on his elbows and studied the room, cursing himself for being such easy prey for someone offering "a couple bucks."

Jak didn't have to think too hard about why he accepted the offer. 'I feel poor,' he lamented, wondering what the afternoon's adventure had done to his day's schedule. 'I don't like having to work two jobs just so I can keep my beat-up car running, and pay for school. After helping out with the household expenses, there's not much left for me. Dad makes a good living; it's just . . . well . . . things seem to have always been stretched tight.

'So . . . there it is. Money talks, and earning a few bucks for beating-off in front of a couple guys, is easy money. It may buy a tank of gas, if nothing else. Now though, look at the situation I'm in.' He scooted to the side of the bed farthest from the three men, and stooped, reaching for his underwear.

"Wait!" Levi Witter, the man who'd convinced him to put on the recent show, spoke with authority. It seemed weird to call someone not ten years older than himself, 'sir,' but . . . it felt right. 'If I ooze sexuality,' as two of those guys claim, 'this man oozes authority.' It'd been almost palpable the moment he'd sat down across the table, and looked on as Jak ate a sack lunch in the College Commons Building. After a few pleasantries, the man described his business and asked Jak if he would be interested in possibly being a model for his studio's website.

"My apologies for ignoring you, . . . um," Levi Witter hesitated, trying to recall the name of the young man who stood frozen in place, much like a deer facing an oncoming car.

"The name's Jak," the naked man warily supplied, still unwilling to face the three men. He rubbed a hand across his stomach, irritated at discovering a patch of liquifying sperm which had begun to leave wet streaks over his belly. 'Oh great!' he silently groaned. 'What am I supposed to do with a spermy hand?' Somehow, licking his fingers clean didn't seem quite as appropriate as it had a few moments earlier. 'I can't wipe it on the bed sheets. Mom would have a fit if she knew I did something like that.' Jak paused, grinning to himself. 'Hell, I can't begin to think what she'd say if she knew I had just beat my meat for three strangers, all for a couple bucks. I'm not that hard-up for money, am I?'

While two of the men discussed his . . . assets, Jak quickly brought his hand to his mouth and did his best to clean off as much of the juice as possible. Whatever was left, he wiped over his thigh, and hoped the guys had been too busy talking to notice.

"What a perfect ass," one of the men commented, "and look at those legs!"

Jak flexed the hairless mounds of his buttocks, glancing over his shoulder and looking at himself in the mirror on the far wall of the room. 'I always have liked my butt.' His cock twitched, as he thought of how much he enjoyed having his ass cheeks and hole played with. 'If I don't watch it, I'm going to get hard again, and these guys will think I'm depraved.'

He returned his attention to the mirror's reflection. Jak was a man of average height, with an athletic build, short blond hair, large dark-blue eyes, broad shoulders which tapered to a narrow waist, and long, muscular thighs and calves. 'The dick could be a little longer,' he thought, as he watched the thick cock begin to stand out from his dense pubic hair.

"I think his face is even better than his butt," the second man interrupted Jak's self-analysis. "The eyes are to die-for . . . and those lips! I wonder if he enjoys kissing."

'I'd bet the farm I'm gonna end up bald,' Jak thought, wondering why someone hadn't pointed that out. 'And what's so great about my lips?' he wondered, trying to see himself in the same light as the two men who were analyzing him, bit by bit. 'I'm surprised someone hasn't commented on me clipping my chest hair.' He studied his reflection, trying not to be too obvious. 'My lips? With the way they're talking, I would have thought they'd be asking to take a close look at my hole, not talking about my lips!

'And, speaking of my butt, if one of those guys wanted to play, for a couple more bucks, I'd jump at the chance. That guy . . . Dave . . . is a knockout.'

Jak tore his attention away from his reflection, and determinedly pulled the brief pair of underwear up his legs. 'Geez, I'm not a horse,' he groused, as the evaluation continued, wondering when they were going to ask to see his teeth. He arranged himself in the pouch of his briefs, then turned toward the men, now . . . safely . . . hidden behind the thin, dark-blue fabric surrounding his groin.

"Guys," he broke into the conversation, "I wish you'd stop talking about me as if I wasn't in the room. Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" He retrieved his shirt and began fastening its buttons, only then realizing how quiet the room had become. When he looked up, two of the men were red-faced, while their boss was grinning.

"Well?" Levi Witter asked, turning to look at his friends. "The young man asked you a question. Show some manners and answer him."

"My apologies for treating you like a piece of meat," the youngest of the two men mumbled, not quite meeting Jak's eyes as he spoke.

"Mine, too . . . um . . ."

"Like I said, the name's Jak."

"Of course . . . Jak. Sorry. Mine's Pete Landry. I was just wondering what sort of work-name would be good for you. You knew you wouldn't be using your actual name, didn't you?"

"Um, I guess I hadn't thought about it. This entire website sex-thing is still sort'a vague to me. I mean, I've seen guys have sex online, but those were people off the street. What you're doing sounds more . . . um . . . professional, I guess."

Pete snorted. "It's like the difference between night and day.

"You think I'd fit in with the guys you already have working for you? This Cody person you've mentioned a couple times, doesn't sound like a very nice guy. I guess he must really be a looker though."

Pete shrugged. "Cody's easy on the eyes, but so are you."

"Damn right!" Dave, the man standing close-by, added.

Pete's eyes lit, and he snapped his fingers. "I know! You should be called 'Soren'! It's an unusual name, without being weird, plus it's not trite. What'cha think?"

"Soren?" Jak mused, finding it strange to think of himself answering to a name other than Jak Rollins.

"If that's an okay name, that's what we'll start calling you," Mister Witter said. "That's the name you'll be known by online, as well as by the other guys who you'll be working with."

"It's perfect!" Pete Landry announced. "Just like you."

Jak zipped his jeans, then interrupted the men's talk, with a gesture. "Guys, 'Soren is a cool-sounding name, but I'm definitely not perfect, so stop going on as if I am; okay? I . . . I don't know exactly what to say about your offer to be part of your website, any more than I know what to think about what I just did." He gestured to the rumpled bed.

"It was fun, getting naked and playing with myself in front of you all." He grinned. "I always have been an exhibitionist, I've just never done anything like this before." Jak massaged the back of his neck as he considered how his life would change if he took Mister Witter up on his offer to be an online porn star. "Still . . . I . . . I just don't think this performance-thing would be right for me. I'm too . . ."

"What? You're perfect!"

"Huh? I've been shaking like a leaf, I'm so nervous. If you'd been watching me, instead of gushing about my face and butt, you would have noticed." He nodded toward the bed. "Whether you know it or not, it was all I could do to get hard. Once I got going, everything was fine, but I'm not sure I'd be able to cum on command.

"If I was working for you I'd want to give you my best. What would happen if I couldn't get it up? Besides," he scratched his head. "I'm wondering what my folks would say." He lowered his voice. "I hate to disappoint them, or anyone I work with. That's one of the reasons I'm not sure I'm right for your website."

"But you did much more than merely satisfy us," Mister Witter added, with a fatherly smile.

Jak snorted. "Well, I'm glad you thought so. I have to say that once I got hard, it was a real kick doing what I did and knowing you guys were watching. I guess I never realized how much of an exhibitionist I really am. I was so into jerking off though, that I didn't get to finger my butthole much. Having my hole licked or fingered is a real turn-on for me." He looked at one of the men with a frown, as the guy tilted his head back, covered his eyes, and groaned.

"Is he okay?"

Mister Witter's smile broadened. "Definitely. Dave's just a little . . . demonstrative, that's all. It's his nature."

Jak studied the man for a moment, as if unsure of the assertion, then continued. "Guys, as much as I've enjoyed myself, this whole thing has sort'a freaked me out. I mean sheesh, there I was, beating my meat, while three total strangers looked on. I've never jerked off in front of anyone before. It felt like you were grading my performance." Jak grinned crookedly. 'I give him a seven . . . for style,' I can almost hear one of you saying, as you hold up a card, like the judges do, during a gymnastics meet.

"I'd have given you a ten," Dave Adams said, "and another ten, for your climax. Geez-Louise, I've never seen someone blast like that! Do you shoot like that every time?"

"Huh?" Jak thought back to when he'd shot. "I . . . Yeah, I guess. All guys do the same thing."

"Then I'd like to know the guys you know," Dave mumbled, as the man next to him spoke.

"I'd have given him a twelve," Pete Landry added. "Um, what sports do you play?"

"Huh? . . . None. I'm not very good when it comes to athletic stuff. I can't catch a ball. I throw a ball like a sissy, and no one would have ever selected me for their team if they didn't have to. I look and sound sort'a macho, but," Jak grinned. "Looks can be deceiving. Why do you ask?"

Pete gave him a skeptical look. "None? Do you lift?"

"You mean, as in weights?" After seeing a nod, Jak shook his head. "No. I'm too busy going to school and trying to keep my frippin' car running! Guys, I'm not wealthy. My folks are doing all they can to make ends meet, and support my sister and brother."

"Brother! You have a brother?"

Jak frowned. "Yeah, why?" he asked, warily. "I suppose you want him to beat-off for you too?"

"Would he, y'think?" Dave asked, eagerly.

"He's fourteen, for pity's sake! So . . . no, he won't. I think it was a mistake for me to come here, and get naked for you, too. Don't get me wrong," he added, as he reached for his jacket. "It was fun n'all . . . shooting a load always is, but I'm sort'a feeling all weirded-out."

"If you really don't think working for me would be a good move for you . . . I understand. I don't want to encourage you to do anything you aren't comfortable with." Mister Witter held out a folded piece of paper. "I believe you're mistaken, to think you're not right for the job, but I do understand how you feel. This is to compensate you for your time. I told you, you could expect payment for masturbating for us."

"Huh?" one of the men began, but stopped speaking, after Mister Witter frowned and shook his head.

"As my colleague has . . . gushed . . . You are perfect for the job. With your looks, your body, your cock and butt, and your personality, you could go far."

"Far?" Jak mumbled, wearing a puzzled frown as he accepted the piece of paper. "What's this?" He unfolded it, to find a check.

"Huh?" He looked up, wide-eyed. "You mentioned giving me a couple bucks to jerk-off. This," he held up the check, "would pay my frippin' tuition for next semester!" He extended his hand, to give the check back to Mister Witter. "Here. You keep this. Give me twenty-bucks, and I'll be on my way."

"Is that what you'd charge to put on a show like the one the three of us just witnessed?" Levi Witter asked.

Jak tugged on his jacket. "Hell if I know! I've never done anything like this before. I figure twenty bucks is about what jerking off for you guys was worth. I mean, all I did was shoot a load. There's nothing special about that!"

"Jak, you have to understand that it's not what you think that's important," the older man said, in a kind voice. "What is important is what I, and my website's members think. I am running a business. I never just give money away, for the fun of it. I believe . . . strongly, that you could be our most popular model. That's why I'm willing to pay you what I have. My friend here is right when he says that watching you slowly stimulate yourself to orgasm, was special. Most guys I interview, strip down, and masturbate. Shooting a load is nothing special to many of them. You, on the other hand, make love to your penis. You take your time, and when you shot . . .," the curly-haired man shook his head in wonder. "Damn, that alone was worth every penny I've paid you.

"Believe me when I say that I've had hundreds of guys masturbate for me, and you, my friend, are unique.

"If things work out like I think they will, you could expect to earn four or five times the amount on that check each month, for less than two weeks work." He grinned, encouragingly.

"It wasn't a performance guys," Jak protested. "I just jerked-off. It's as simple as that! I do the same thing every day, sometimes twice . . . or more, when I'm super horned-up."

Dave Adams, demonstrative as ever, groaned. "I don't think I can take much more of this. It was all I could do to keep my clothes on. I wanted to share in whatever fantasy you'd created. I imagined what it would be like to be naked and lying on the bed with you, and having you blast into my mouth." He shook his head. "I'm not sure I've ever been this horned up!"

"Huh?" Jak's eyes flicked from the short man, to Levi, then back, unsure if he was being teased.

Mister Witter gestured to the check. "Jak, let me put things plainly, if my too-vocal assistant will refrain from interrupting." He turned back to the younger man, wearing a smile. "You're right. When I met you over at the college, I offered you a couple bucks to masturbate, for me and my friends, with the understanding that I might make you a job offer, afterward."

Jak nodded, agreeing with what had been said.

"I make the same offer . . . often," he continued. "It's my job to locate men who would like to make some good money, while having sex with one another, and having their performances displayed on my website. Each of the men to whom I offer a job, as well as those who work for me, are very much like yourself - young, good looking, and eager to have sex.

"I pay more than most studios, and, as a result, I have men working for me that other studios only dream of being able to hire. I believe you could be one of the best; that's why I'm offering you an exclusive contract. I don't want anyone else snatching you away, to work for them. By being under such a contract, you would be paid substantially more than most of the other guys who work for me. I believe you are special, and I know the people who subscribe to the site would think so, as well.

"Now, to get back to what would be expected of you. We'd fly you out for a couple weeks at a time. You'd hang out with the guys on a casual basis. You'd make a couple videos, appear in a photo shoot or two, or maybe do an interview. I am expecting that you would be so popular you'd most likely be asked to do more non-video things than the other men. We'd schedule your time and coordinate everything, so all you'd have to concern yourself with would be your job, and having fun.

"Our members are the people who pay the bills, Jak. I'm not being generous to you because you're such a nice guy. I'm in this business to make money, just as you would be, if you accept my offer. Since I believe you would be extremely popular with my site's members, I feel you would therefore end up making money for both of us.

"If you choose not to take me up on my offer, I would be greatly disappointed, but I would understand. Either way, this check is yours. Believe me young man, you are worth much more, to both of us, than a mere twenty bucks."

"It's tough for me to believe that you want to pay me big money to have sex with another guy. I mean, sex! That's it? You're not gonna ask me to go to bed with your dog or anything like that, are you?" His lips twitched in suppressed humor. "I'm also wondering exactly how many people would be in the room while all this is going on, and if any of 'em are women. I'm not sure I could handle that."

"I guess that means you wouldn't consider being filmed with women?" Levi asked.

Jak made a face. "Um, sorry, but no thanks. I mean, women are nice, I just don't want to get naked with one of 'em and fool around." He paused a moment, then shuddered. "As long as one of 'em isn't hanging around while I'm having sex with a guy, I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "Sorry I'm rambling. Like I said earlier. This whole thing is just too weird. As far as sex goes, I'm into guys, and only guys."

He frowned at the man who was making the offer. "You're not gonna ask me to do something weird, are you? Oh, and you never did answer my question about your dog, y'know." The comment caused Levi Witter to grin. "By weird, I mean, I'm not into trying to show everyone how macho I can be, by slapping another guy around. I also don't want to be a punching bag, for someone else.

"I like regular ol' sex . . . sucking, fucking, ass licking, n'kissing. I love kissing." He thought a moment. "I guess an occasional slap on the butt would be okay, but nothing serious, like whips n'stuff, y'know? It's okay for other guys. It's just . . . I'm not into that."

"To answer your question, the dog is definitely off limits, and any smacks on the butt would be negotiated beforehand."

"You mean, negotiated, like, 'you can slap mine if I can slap yours?'" Jak grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.

'A sense of humor, too!' Levi thought. 'I love it!' "So, you'll at least think about the offer?" Levi asked.

"Um, yeah, I guess. And . . .," Jak held up the check. "Thanks for this."

He shook Dave Adams' and Pete Landry's hands, followed by Mister Witter's, then turned back. "You're not just jerking my chain to see what I'll do, then plan to have a big laugh at my expense, are you? That wouldn't be cool." He looked at the check. "I'm not going to cash this until I've visited your website. I also want to talk with some people at the university, about the whole thing." He glanced toward the envelope, containing the contract, he'd just been handled. "I'd also like to talk with my folks."

He inhaled deeply, then slowly released his breath. "Since they don't know I'm gay, that's gonna be rough." He rubbed a hand across his face. "Geez, I'm not looking forward to that."

* * *

Jak carefully tucked the check into his wallet, overcome with the possibilities Mister Witter's offer presented, but wary of hidden strings, which were sure to exist. 'I mean, sex! All he's asking me to do is have sex with another guy. Strip naked, roll around on the bed, kiss, suck, fuck, shoot a load, kiss some more, laugh, have a good time, kiss some more. I could do that!

'So . . . okay . . . I could do the job, but does that mean it would be a good thing? Sure, the thought of being paid to have sex with a bunch of guys . . . sounds . . . great, but, I have to remember that I'll also be facing all sorts of unknown challenges. I can't only look at the up-side to things, I also have to think about what I'll do when my ego gets involved.

'He will be paying me to be some sort of porn star who's going to make him bunches of money. If I'm not what he expects, it'll be just like me, to believe that I let him down. After all, it's the website's members who'll be the ones with the final word on how well I'm doing. They could take one look at me and wonder why in the world I was ever hired. "He's nothing more than another blond guy who, if you hadn't noticed, is going bald," I can imagine someone writing in a critical email.

'I wonder what the guys who work for Mister Witter are like. I'm going to have to face the possibility that I'll be asked to work with someone I can't stand, or that someone will feel the same about me. It's one thing to be asked to do that in an office environment, but quite another when you're being asked to fuck and suck one another.

"I don't know if I'm a good enough actor to do those things, and make everyone believe I'm having a good time. What if someone laughs at me 'cause I'm not muscular enough, or my dick's not big enough, or I don't measure-up in some other way which I have no control over? Of course, there's no way to know how I'll handle that sort of thing, but I need to be aware of the likelihood that not everything will go smoothly.

'I have to be realistic. This type of job can't go on for a very long time,' Jak told himself, as the elevator descended to the parking garage. 'Even if I do turn out to be popular today, pretty soon someone new will come along and I'll be nothing more than yesterday's leftovers. Being faced with having to bow out gracefully is not only a possibility, it's a certainty. When that happens, I'll have to remember that I didn't fail anyone. I'll also need to have a plan for what I'll do after I move on.

'Otherwise, this isn't a long-term profession; it's a job, which means,' he thought, drawing out the word in his mind. 'Which means, that I have a commodity which Mister Witter wants to pay for, so I shouldn't go around giving it away, no matter how much I might be tempted.'

Jak slid behind the steering wheel of his car, lost in thought. 'So, does all this mean that I want to accept Mister Witter's offer, and, if so, how in the world am I going to break it to Mom and Dad? They're not likely to think much of the idea that I'm going to quit college for a while, no matter how much I'm being paid. They're also not going to be too keen on the idea that I'm gay, or, that I'm going to be working as a gay porn actor.

'I can just imagine what my sister will say. That girl's more conservative than a Baptist minister's mistress.

'I don't expect Mom will be thrilled with the news either, though I don't think she'll be quite so vocal as my dear sister. She'll probably wonder what the neighbors are going to think, as if I'm planning to send out engraved invitations for folks to watch me get fucked by a total stranger on the World Wide Web.'

The thought gave Jak pause. 'The whole world . . . Am I that much of an exhibitionist? Now . . . the whole frippin' world's gonna be blessed with a closeup of my asshole as some guy plugs me.

'Then, there's m'brother, Rex . . . he may only be fourteen, but it'll be just like him to want to join in. Once he finds out what I'm doing, he won't rest until he finds Mister Witter's site, then invites all his buddies to come over and watch his brother have sex with another guy.' Jak leaned his head back and groaned. 'Maybe this whole thing isn't such a good idea, after all.

'So, I have a pretty good idea what the whole family will do, except for Dad. I don't really care what Mom and my sister think about what I'm planning to do. Dad though, is an entirely different story. He and I have always been very close. It's his blessing I'm seeking.'

* * *

"Holeeee smoke!" Dave Adams howled, as he flopped onto the bed recently vacated by Jak Rollins. "That boy is about as fuckin' sexy as it is possible to be!" Dave rolled onto his stomach and nuzzled the young man's pillow, hoping to find an overlooked dollop of sperm. "Bingo!" he called, as he found a wet spot and began sucking on the pillow cover. "I'm in lust," he groaned, as he rolled onto his back. "The guy's load tastes awesome."

"You're imagining things," Pete laughed.

Dave rolled his head from side to side. "Nope. I know sperm when I taste it. I just tasted sperm, and it was excellent. Oh," he sighed, "some lucky fucker's gonna get to have a mouth full of that sweet stuff! I am going to be soooo jealous."

Pete Landry turned to his boss. "Did you see the way he slowly brought himself close to shooting, then backed off, only to start working himself again? Damn, but he's got a nice cock . . . thick enough to stretch a guy's hole without doing lasting damage." He nudged Levi with his hip. "Almost as nice as yours, or yours Dave," he added, raising his voice.

"And, the way he almost made love to his friggin' hand, as he licked off his juice, then seemed to savor the taste of his own stuff!" Pete remembered being mesmerized by the slow movement of Jak's hand. When the naked man spread his legs, dug his heels into the bed sheets, and arched his back, it was all Pete could do not to join in.

'I've never reacted to someone's interview like that,' he thought. But, when Jak's penis . . . erupted . . . Pete knew he had a new benchmark by which to judge every future model.

"Suppose there's any more stuff left behind?" he asked, as he joined Dave. "I'd like to taste it."

"Nope," Dave chuckled. "You're gonna have to kiss me to find out what it tastes like."

"In your dreams, shorty."

"It's either that, or start licking the sheets."

"No contest! The sheets win!" Pete laughed, as he pushed Dave aside, then fell onto his stomach, intending to search the entire bed if necessary.

"You both are just turned on by the young man's short blond hair and deep voice," Levi Witter laughed, as the two men on the bed playfully wrestled. "Not to mention his perfect tan, his firm nipples, slim waist, and the milky white skin of his ass cheeks.

Levi slapped the seat of Pete's slacks, urging him to scoot over. "Personally, I was taken with his eyes. So large and blue . . . and his teeth . . . an orthodontist's poster boy, for sure."

"What about his fuzzy ass cheeks?" Dave asked, groping himself as he fell back onto the pillows with an exaggerated groan of frustration.

"He's got some smarts too," Levi continued, ever the practical one of the three men. "Many guys his age would have jumped at the chance to make good money and fuck around while they're doing it. Not him. He wants to speak with some people at the college, and visit with his parents. I love it!"

Levi turned to the two men, one still searching for some missed sperm, the other squeezing his own cock through his jeans. "Guys, this man is special. He's not someone who jumps into things lightly, and, I'm thinking that his emotions and sense of self-worth are not as well developed as he might wish."

"Meaning, he can be easily hurt," Pete observed. He'd reluctantly given up his search for any remaining sperm, and was speculatively eyeing his friend, wondering if he should take him up on the offer to kiss, as a means to taste Jak's juice.

Levi nodded.

"We can't allow Cody to do that to him," Dave Adams declared, suddenly serious. "If he signs on, one of us has to warn him."

"I'm thinking that he's had a rougher life than he's willing to talk about. I'm not suggesting he was abused or anything," Levi added. "I'm talking about not ever having quite enough money. That's one of the things which impresses me about him. He likes the idea of the money, but his decision isn't going to be based solely on how much he can earn. Guys, what he needs is a confidant; someone he can pour out his soul to."

"A lover?" Pete wondered.

Levi shrugged. "Someone whose opinion he values. Someone he trusts."

* * *

"Dad," Jak eased himself into a chair opposite his father's. Steve Rollins looked up, and after seeing his son's expression, put the newspaper aside.

"I'm needing to talk to you and Mom about something really important, and I'm thinking that I may need someone to prevent Mom from going ballistic on me. Both Mom and Aubrey, actually." He grinned. "They're both ballistic sort of folks."

"And, you trust me not to go . . . ballistic?" Steve Rollins grinned.

Jak took a deep breath. "Dad, I'm gay."

"Okay, so when are you going to give me the news which might upset me?" Steve smiled, as he leaned forward and lightly patted his son's knee.

"Jak, parents know when one of their children is gay." He smiled. "Don't look so puzzled. Your mother and I didn't come to that conclusion because of something you did or didn't do, or a way you act, or don't act. We talked about your orientation years ago, and yes, she was upset, but . . . not with you. She was feeling guilty, believing she and I had somehow failed you. Once she had calmed down, she quickly got over the feelings of guilt, and was okay with everything.

"Now, your sister . . ." Steve Rollins shook his head. "Her, I won't vouch for. She has rules of propriety to which a saint wouldn't be able to conform. But, don't worry about her, or how much she howls. I have a feeling the young lady is going to lead a very lonely life. Your happiness does not depend upon your sister's approval of your sexual orientation. Otherwise, if she screams and carries on, ignore her."

"There's more," Jak began, as his sister and mother came into the house, laden with groceries.

"Why are you both looking so serious?" Jak's mother, Rachel, asked, as she and her daughter came back into the living room.

"Rachel," Steve said, in a warm, no-nonsense voice. "Jak has just come out to me, and was seeking my support. I gave it to him wholeheartedly, and told him that your support was his, as well."

"You mean you're a fag?" Aubrey shrieked. "My brother, a fag! You can't be my brother. You're a fag! You live in the same house as me. Euwww!"

"Aubrey Rollins!" her father shouted, his voice filling the living room with his displeasure. "You . . . will . . . never . . . use . . . that . . . word . . . in . . . this . . . house again! Do I make myself understood? I'm sorry that I cannot make the message any simpler. There are no words more simple than those with one syllable! Now, apologize to your brother. You've been brought up to behave better than that."

"I'd like to see you try to make me apologize," Aubrey sniffed, as she tossed her hair, and stomped out of the room.

Jak sank back in his chair. "About what I expected from her," he murmured, turning to his red-faced father and ashen-faced mother. "Sit down, Dad, and don't fret about her behavior. There's nothing you or anyone else is going to do to change how she views the world."

"Well, the young lady will soon find her life interesting, in the extreme," he said, as he slowly returned to his seat. "No child of mine will ever dare me to make them behave properly. She will soon learn that I will not support her until she starts to behave like a civilized woman." Steve turned to his wife. "I expect that you will agree that such behavior is reprehensible, and will behave accordingly."

Rachel Rollins seemed to sag. "Of course . . . you're right. It's just . . ."

"Mom?" Jak asked. "I don't want to disappoint you, or make you angry, or anything."

"Hush, Jak. You haven't." She looked up as the telephone rang. "I want you to be happy, more'n anything," she said, as she hurried to answer the telephone.

"Jak," Steve Rollins said, in a low voice, as his wife spoke on the phone. "There's more?"

Jak solemnly nodded.

"Is it essential for your mother to hear what you have to say . . . today? We've had quite enough drama for my stomach."

"Dad," Jak gulped. "I need to talk."

"I see you do. Would it be okay if it was just you and me? We can ease your mother into whatever it is you need to talk about, later on. Deal?" he asked, squeezing his son's shoulder.

"Yeah, Dad . . . deal."

"Y'gonna be okay?" Steve asked. "Y'need some time alone, or anything?"

Jak shook his head. "No. I just get a little emotional n'stuff, from time-to-time. I don't handle this sort'a stress too well."

"Your sister's outburst bothered you more than you're letting on, hasn't it?" Steve asked, as his son stood, and melted into his father's embrace.

"Yeah, sort'a. No one likes being called names n'stuff."

"Yeah, well, rest assured, Jak, the next time I see your dear sister, she will regret she behaved the way she did." Steve scooped up the keys to the car he'd loaned his daughter. "You and Rex have never so much as made me raise my voice. That girl has been a constant source of aggravation, since the day she was born. She's my daughter and I love her, but she has apparently yet to learn who is boss in this house.

"Now, enough about your sister."

"Rachel," Steve shouted, interrupting his wife's telephone conversation. "Jak and I are going for a walk. We'll probably stop someplace for dinner." He waved to his wife, then gathered his son to him, with an arm over his shoulders.

"Don't look so glum, boy!"

Jak's mouth moved, but found he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. Instead, he hugged his father and held him close. After a few moments he finally managed to croak his thanks. "I couldn't ask for a better father," he said, as he backed away and swiped a hand across his eyes. "Emotions," he jerkily laughed, "bad things."

Steve Rollins ran a hand up and down his son's back, as they left the house. "No, Jak. You're wrong. Emotions are good things. Too many men are afraid of showing theirs. I'm thankful you and your brother aren't."