The Boy Avengers (14 page)

TOM EMERGED FROM HIS TINY KITCHEN AT THIS moment to announce that dinner was nearly ready, if any of us needed to take a leak beforehand.

Or masturbate, Cary said.

Did I miss something?

Only the changing of my entire life. I found I have been closing myself to a whole area of experience that could be the most rewarding of all.

How's that? Girls?

Don't be crass. Girls indeed! Sex with senior citizens is the answer.

Oh, I've known about that all along, Tom said, but he refused to say more. Personally, I think he was showing off.

Tom's long absence made me fear the worst, but he proved to be a sound, unpretentious cook. He had a delicious London broil, enhanced by the expensive Chateau Lafite Rothschild I had provided.

During dinner, Cary entertained us with amusing tales of sodomy, which at first glance seemed designed only to entertain, and I suspect Tom saw nothing more in them; but I discerned that Cary was cleverly giving Jeff valuable information about techniques, with a few careful warnings. I am certain Jeff recognized this and benefited. I know
I
did.

We'd made plans to spend the night in the room Tom had fixed up for us, for on top of the cocktails before dinner and the superb wine, we had highballs
after
dinner and were not sufficiently sober to return to Cornhill.

Cary gave a subtle hint that he'd like to spend the night in Tom's spectacular bed, but Tom pretended not to hear it. Tom's bedroom, by the way, was as different from the spartan room he'd known I'd like as it could be. He'd acquired an ornate canopy bed from some brief-lived but expensive theatrical production, along with a matching highboy, so that his bedroom could have fitted exactly into the palace of Mad Ludwig of Bavaria. Tom told me the bedroom served to purge his artistic consciousness of tendencies towards decoration for its own sake, but I believe it was simply a matter of having once admired some such bed and waiting for an opportunity to own it.

Our unaccustomed portions of liquor acted as a sleeping potion with Jeff and me. We even skipped our customary shower.

I awoke in the middle of the night with an odd feeling of disorientation. After only a few seconds I knew where I was, and that the body I was spooning closely was Jeff's. But it took me a little longer to realize that my hard, erect cock was completely inside his asshole. How had it happened? Was it an accident or had Cary's deft exercises created a need Jeff could fulfill without waking me? I did not see it as an overtly sexual act, and for that reason had no hesitation in leaving it there.

Jeff was fully ready, physically, to have Jack Foster fuck him, but there were arrangements that had to be made. Cornhill was such a small place it would have been impossible for Tom little to have installed his cameras in the attic over Jack Foster's room, so he had to instruct me in their use. I wouldn't try to use all three, but would be content with one fixed camera, one zoom. I became competent after practice, but never the craftsman Tom was.

One day we arrived at the studio after a week's absence to find Tom a strange mixture of radiance and apprehension. My first (and unworthy) thought was that someone had made him a fantastic financial offer he'd been unable to resist, and that he didn't know how to tell me I was fired.

The truth was quick in coming, but was released obliquely. I think I should warn you that if you drop by without phoning me first, you might run into Bill Butterworth. I don't know how important it is to you that he not know about our... business....

You know him? Jeff asked in innocent astonishment.

What happened? I asked, more realistic.

We are lovers, Tom said, and he blushed. He looked at the moment so young, so virginal, so vulnerable, I wanted to hug him.

How marvelous! Jeff cried. How perfectly marvelous!

You don't mind, then?

I've always wanted the best for him, Jeff said, and now he's got it.

Tears welled in Tom's eyes, but he was able to fight them back. I don't think he'd realized before how much we'd come to like and admire him.

About the other thing, I said. Tell him anything you want to, but if there is anything you hold back, let us know what it is, so that if we see him here we'll never talk at cross purposes.

I'll tell him everything, then. Everything I know.

I've felt we'd like to know him better, I said. Now you've made it possible. But how did it come about?

It was no accident. I fell in love with him when I was editing the movie of him and Hal.

Not while you were shooting it? Jeff asked.

No, Tom said thoughtfully. Isn't that odd?

I don't think so, I said. It did tend to show he was an artist before everything.

Were you jealous, then, seeing him with Hal? Jeff asked.

It wasn't real. I was grateful to Hal, actually, for letting me see Bill for the first time. The real Bill. I am not ordinarily a modest person, but somehow I had the feeling I was totally unworthy.

That's not true! Jeff cried impulsively. Tom smiled gratefully at him.

But I had it so hard I felt I owed it to myself to give it the old college try. So I went to that gay bar, and I struck up a conversation with him, and to my amazement, he readily agreed to come home with me.

Did he insist on inspecting you in the men's room? I asked.

Not even that. Furthermore, he said he'd noticed me there a couple of timeswhich happened to be the only times I had been thereand he'd hoped I would talk to him. I asked why he hadn't come up to
me
and he said he hadn't been sure I'd be interested. Anyway, when we got back here, he let me suck his cock and rim his asshole, and it was much, much better than Cary had said. Even the picture couldn't do it justice. I wondered if my cock was nearly good enough for it, even though he seemed to enjoy sucking on it. But he told me he wanted me to fuck him, and so I did. I wanted to watch his face when I fucked him, because it seemed to me I'd never seen a more beautiful faceeven Jeff's than when Hal had been fucking him. But I couldn't watch his face because we were kissing, and every part of us seemed involved. So I couldn't stand off and watch as if I was a camera. I've always had fantastic orgasms, even masturbating, but they were nothing like the way I shot up his ass. Maybe it wasn't too bad for him either, because he had an orgasm at the same time. His belly was flooded with it. I lapped it all up. Wonderful! I have particularly acute taste buds, he added matter-of-factly, so I could tell how special his sperm was.

It doesn't surprise me, said Jeff, who'd never tasted sperm in his life.

He spent the whole night. I wouldn't have let him go in any case. It was hard enough in the morning. But by then I knew he loved me too, so when he left, he didn't really leave, if you know what I mean. Funny thing is, the first time I saw him I recognized him as much for his inconspicuousness as anything. Yet when I saw him that third time, there wasn't anyone else in the whole damned bar. I couldn't understand how I could've been so blind, for he was as radiantly handsome standing there as he had been when Hal was fucking him. I had a moment of panic that someone else would see this glow and grab him before I could even speak. There were guys far better-looking than me, lots of them.

I'd like to have seen that, Jeff said fiercely.

Was it honestly your first homosexual experience? I asked.

Seems strange I could go so completely overboard on my first experience, but I'm glad I waited. My first with a girl was a real fiasco. It would have killed me if something had gone wrong this first time with Bill.

He fuck you? Jeff asked. I immediately had in my mind's eye the vision of Bill's beautiful great cock. I imagine that's what Jeff was seeing, too.

I was ready even for that. Psychologically ready. But we didn't. I knew I wanted him to fuck me eventually, so after he'd gone I phoned up Cary Jenks and asked him to trot over with his vibrating penises. He was all too happy to oblige. He came to dinner. When you come right down to it, I was more apprehensive than Jeff, though I had no reason to be. But Cary was great; though it took me a discouragingly long time to relax my asshole completely he accomplished it. Finally I had no difficulty at all taking the cock that was the size of Bill's. Then he talked me into taking one even a size larger.

Why? I asked.

New theory he'd just developed from practice. He'd met up with a guy with a cock so small he was ashamed of it, and to bolster his ego, Cary persuaded the guy to try fucking him. Actually the guy was so handsome and eager, Cary'd have wanted him up his ass even if all he'd had was a clitoris.

A
what?
Jeff asked.

I'll tell you later, I promised.

Cary thought he wouldn't even feel this guy's cock, but to his surprise it felt wonderfully good, as good as any fuck he'd ever had. So he figured out that a cock that has to stretch your asshole to any serious extent to get in, desensitizes it in the process. While there's a certain aesthetic pleasure in being able to take a cock big as all outdoors, for the maximum tactile pleasure the cock that causes little stretching strain is ideal.

Sounds like he's very much on the right track there, I said.

I hope you let him spend the night, Jeff said. Tom looked at him in surprise. Don't miss a trick, do you? Yes, I let him stay. Felt I owed it to him for the lessons. And I'm glad I did. He not only gave me a good fuck, but he showed me a lot of thingstricks, really, but things that could enhance the pleasure without seeming too contrived. Also, he gave me practical pointers on cleanliness and the like, things that might have occurred to me, and yet could be important.

You enjoyed his fucking you? Jeff asked.

Yes. Very much. I even enjoyed sucking his cock and fucking
him.
Seems a contradiction, doesn't it? I mean, here I was desperately in love with Bill, yet I could uninhibitedly enjoy fucking Cary and having him fuck me.

It's the dichotomy of pure nature versus conditioning, I said. We've been conditioned to feeling guilty about sexual pleasure with anyone but a chosen mate.

But there's a sharp difference. For all that I enjoyed fucking with Cary, it was no more than a physical act, an erotic experience. I get more of an erotic experience just touching Bill's hand. And when we make lovethat's the only accurate way to describe itit's a total spiritual experience.

Mr. Butterworth arrived scarcely an hour after we did. He was taken aback at seeing us, so I realized Tom had indeed kept totally silent about our arrangements. But Jeff, with fantastic insight, bridged the communication gap in one fell swoop by impulsively kissing Mr. Butterworth. You know, then, he said shyly. We nodded. It's the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. I didn't even know people like Tom existed, much less that he'd ever want somebody like me.

Anyone who didn't want somebody like you ought to have his head examined, Jeff said. Tom nodded enthusiastically.

I expected Tom to be slow and careful about informing Mr. Butterworth about what we'd been up to, but he plunged right in by showing him the film of Hal fucking him. He only seemed fascinated. I wondered if he even identified with the beautiful, lithe fellow being so royally fucked on the screen. I'm glad you showed it to me, he said when it was over, not only because it is such a beautiful film, but because now I realize I'm not as unattractive as I'd always thought.

Unattractive! Tom cried out, nearly in pain.

Mr. Butterworth put a hand gently on the side of his face. You saw how much I enjoyed Hal fucking me, so you can imagine how much more I enjoy it when you do.

Can you stay tonight?

Of course. I had it out with the headmaster.

What's going on? I asked.

Thanks to you two, I can spend every weekend with Tom now, Friday night through Monday morning.

How'd you arrange it? Tom asked.

The headmaster called me in to say I was spending entirely too much time away from the school, that it was one of the duties of the masters to be around all the time to set a good example for the boys, to be on call should problems arise.

Like being raped in the chapel,' I said.

Exactly. So I told him that I'd developed a case of claustrophobia in that small room to which I'd been forced to move. He shut up like a clam.n.

Beautiful! I cried.

Jeff and I had half intended spending the night, but I knew Mr. Butterworth would be fucking Tom for the very first time and that they'd be having a totally consuming night. Though I knew it wasn't true, I tried to tell myself having Jeff and me sleeping nearby might tend to inhibit them. I was relieved that Jeff didn't seem disappointed when I said it would be better if we returned to the school. I feared the thought of Mr. Butterworth fucking Tom with that beautiful big cock, and Tom's great joy in receiving it, would weaken me to the point where I'd not be able to resist soliciting Jeff's beautiful, vibrant cock for my own long-lonely asshole, and thereby spoil our grand design.

But we remained at the studio all afternoon, bringing Mr. Butterworth up to date on what we were doing, our complex revenge on the sadistic Five (we showed him the movie of Sandra infecting them), our plans for Jack Foster's downfall. He approved of what we'd done and what we planned. I found his approval mattered a great deal. When those we admire approve of us, it doesn't really matter how many disapprove.