The flight back had been just as uncomfortable as all my other military transport flights, despite it being in a passenger jet used by the brass . . . a very high-level member of that rarified community, too, who'd spent his time completely ignoring the other eight service members who were assigned to the flight due to common departure/destination orders. Also, we flew into Hickam, which for me, as the solo marine on the flight, meant a drive across to the east end of the island before my trip was over. To be fair, there were two army men among us who had a similar trip to Schofield awaiting them . . . though I doubted their prior forty-eight hours had been spent being "debriefed" in highly-protected locations by non-military personnel who only asked questions - over and over and OVER - and never answered one.

After the VIP on board - a Pearl admiral, who I'd never heard of, was escorted off the plane, we lowly, lesser members of the food chain were allowed to leave. I'd been told by the young comm officer on board that I'd have transport sent by Kaneohe to meet me, and I was at least relieved for the consideration afforded in that respect.

I'd been PCS'd to Kaneohe six months before, as the very unexpected replacement for the base CO's aide - unexpected because my predecessor, like our base commander, was a colonel, and I was a lowly major. Well, also unexpected because the CO had caught his former aide, Col. Gibson, fucking the CO's twenty-year-old son when he'd sprung the trap he thought was going to result in catching his wife and Col. Gibson. Col. Mellor, our base CO, was not the most enlightened, so it was a multi-faceted shock to his system, and Col. Gibson was PCS'd somewhere pronto. I'd since found out the son was finishing his college back on the mainland, having transferred from UH immediately after the brouhaha.

But then five weeks before my long, multi-hopped return to Hawaii, I'd been offered a mission. I can't, even now, disclose anything more, other than to say I stayed away from the beautiful Hawaiian sand for a while after returning - too much memory of very different, far less picturesque, burning-like-an-inferno locales. I survived the mission, as did the entire seven-man team and all the support. And the mission had been successful beyond any of the analysts' and Pentagon cubicle-dwellers' and layers upon layers of command expectations. Unfortunately the multi-location, week-long "debrief" sessions that hop-scotched me to Europe then to the DC area had zapped to a distant memory the victorious endorphin rush the success had given me, and now I was just plain beat.

I had my cover on, so a bit of sun-shading for my eyes from the beautiful Hawaiian sun, and I had my sunglasses by the time I got to the bottom of the stairs off the plane. My eyes were adjusted as I looked around amid the roar of engines closeby and other activity, and I fixed on a familiar person as I heard my name called. What energy I thought was gone surged to my crotch as I saw Cpl. Daniels. OH, as I walked that way and closed in on the sedan he was standing by, I saw he was now Sgt. Daniels.

Daniels saluted me formally, and I did my best to respond in kind . . . for the benefit of the environs and others around us. "Congratulations, SERGEANT Daniels," I said when I got close enough to be heard.

"Sir! Thank you, SIR!" he snapped back formally.

"At ease, Mike," I said more quietly, closer to him, wanting to jump him and devour him and fuck him senseless, all right there on the tarmac.

Daniels opened my door for me - back door - and I just looked at him and cocked my head to the front. He did a quick recon glance around, and lest he challenge me on my decision, I just snapped, "NOW, Sergent!" He grabbed my bag and pitched it into the back, and as he slammed the back door and whirled around, I already had the front door open myself and threw him a subtle wink, which I suspected he could see through my dark but not mirrored shades.

As we drove to the gate all he said was, "I'm glad you're back safe, Billy." Me too . . . me too.

We were on the H3, several miles out, when I finally spoke. "How'd you manage this?"

He turned and grinned. "I'm the CO's new driver."

"Mellor doesn't use a driver," I snapped back.

Mike laughed heartily. "He broke his foot, so he does right now."

Our CO was no extreme athlete; golf was about as daring as his physical exploits got, at least the public ones, and I wanted no information about his private ones with his beautiful much-younger wife. "Should I ask?"

"Don't think I've gone all reggy on you or anything, but you're his aide, so he'll probably tell you himself, and I shouldn't pass heresay."

I smirked at Daniels across the car. "You don't know, do you?"

He glanced at me quickly, grinning. "You're too fucking smart, ya bastard! No it's a big secret apparently. All we know is he was treated over at Tripler, and he'd been off-base when he went in. But I meant it - he'll tell you. Shit he tells you everything!"

"I'm his aide, Mike. He doesn't tell me as much as I tell him. It's my job."

Mike turned serious. "I'm just saying, Billy, it's pretty apparent that you're all over Mellor's biz. Gibson was more just an assistant commander than an aide."

"You know I'm just an aide, Mike. I'm not Mellor's XO," I told him, with absolutely no regret that I wasn't the XO. Lt. Col. Fluge was his second-in-command, if one needed to assume command - otherwise there were four officers who reported directly to the CO in various capacities of command on the base.

"Well, it seems Gibson was all over Mellor's biz . . . as in his hot son!" I snarked.

"He IS fucking HOT, isn't he? Too bad he's a bottom through and through or I'd have a go at that!"

We laughed the rest of the way, through the tunnel and out to the windward side of the island. When we got close to the base he turned. "Aren't I reporting?" I asked, wondering where we were going if not directly to my CO.

"Oh, didn't I mention that?" Daniels grinned. He fumbled with his shirt pocket and pulled out a small folded paper, and before I'd unfolded it I knew the form - leave granted. "You've got four days' liberty. So I'm taking you to your apartment," he said with an even broader grin.

My cock responded immediately - OH GOODY, gonna get me some HOT sergeant ass! But the rest of me was too tired to back it up, and I was already slumping, knowing I could shower and take a rest in my own - albeit not my own - bed. "That was nice of him."

"I HEARD that the CO is pretty fuckn impressed with your mission and you. The comm guy told me the CO came to the comm control room and read a coded message with the report about your mission and muttered under his breath, 'That's my boy,' before he ordered the comm grunt to acknowledge and delete the content. And, when he ordered me to pick you up, he told me, 'Go pick up our base's latest returning hero.'"

I was moved. Mellor was an amazing patriot, if a bit behind the social times, and to be called that, even second-hand, was important. I didn't say anything - I couldn't right then.

Mike reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm proud to serve with you, major," he told me with a very grave tone. And then he squeezed my shoulder, and I almost broke.

I choked a bit and faked a cough as I threw my arm up over his and squeezed his shoulder back.

We got to my apartment, off-base about a mile, not a great place or anything, just many, many units, so a lot of anonymity and off-base. The BOQ had been over-committed when I was PCS'd, and I'd gladly taken quarters off-base, with heartfelt assurances to Col. Mellor that I would be at his beck and call despite the farther distance, if he would put up with an additional five minutes if it was an ASAP summons and I was off-duty.

"I'm going to go to the store and pick you up some stuff since your place doesn't have any food in it." I started to protest, but Daniels waived me off. "Then, when I drop them off, you're going to give me your keys, and I'll jump-start your truck and drive it back to the base to get the battery going again and have it serviced, since it's been sitting while you were away. You're to keep this wagon until tomorrow, when I'll pick it up and return it. This is all Mellor's orders. The part that's not his orders is that, if I'm welcome, I'll be back when I get off-duty, so the 'pick-up' of the Humvee tomorrow and delivery of your truck won't be exactly as ordered." He was looking directly at me. "You don't have to fuck me or anything, Billy - I just want you to have someone hold you tonight."

I was almost there, until that. "I don't NEED anyone to HOLD me," I snarled. "And besides, I'm going straight to the shower and then bed now, so, just like every other fucking night since I was born, I'll be FINE sleeping!"

Mike drew back, duly put in his place. "I'll get your groceries, per my orders, major." He reached over the back of the seat and hefted my bag over for me, stopping, holding it there half over the seat between us, holding my gaze.

"Please tell the colonel I appreciate the considerations - all of them - very much," I said stiffly, then grabbed my bag and got out and headed up the stairs without a backward look.

When I'd opened the windows to my stuffy apartment and pulled off my clothes, noticed my keys where I'd thrown them by the door. I opened the door and placed them on the mat outside. It was a very subtle apology . . . or maybe it was just a trap - I wouldn't really know until Daniels returned.

A marine's shower is usually calibrated to training - meaning about five minutes max. Mine, then, was considerably more luxuriant. I stood in the plain, tiny, white-tiled shower stall and let the water wash over me . . . for a long time. I might have drifted off, standing with my shoulder against the side wall, or I might just have zoned out - I don't know. When I finally looked down at my watch I was shocked I'd been in there for almost twenty-five minutes.

For a second while I dried quickly I fantasized that Mike would be around the corner out of site outside the bathroom . . . waiting for me because he knew I really wanted him to be there and would welcome a hug like we couldn't have done outside. But as I dried myself, I also knew my apartment was empty other than me. In the kitchen I found my refrigerator contained juice, fruit, hamburger, steak, milk, several vegetables . . . quite a lot, actually. And my cupboard contained fresh boxes of cereal, two kinds of bread and fresh coffee beans in a sealed bag.

I also found, on the table by the door, the base humvee's keys along with my key ring, with my truck key missing. I flipped the security latch on my door, pulled the wet towel from my waist and hit my musty bed, naked and feeling like I could have been at the Ritz.

It was six hours later when my phone rang. "Major, it's Daniels," he said formally.

I'd awakened instantly - training! - and asked, "Secure line?"

Mike chuckled into the phone. "Yes, sir."

I noticed it was dark outside, so it was either very early or still evening. My watch glow told me seven-twenty-two, so I knew it was night, not morning when it would have been light already. "I owe you an apology, Mike."

There was a pause, which I didn't know if it was because it wasn't private where he was calling from or if it was because he'd taken it harder than I thought. "Um, thank you, sir."

"Mike," I moaned like a whiney little boy trying to cajole his way through making nice after being a jerk.

"Sir, I am going off-duty and was ordered to make sure there's nothing else you need. If there isn't, I'll return your personal vehicle in the morning. It's been serviced, battery charged, and your truck is operation-ready."

"What if I wanted someONE not someTHING?"

No pause this time. "SIR! YES, SIR! Roger that!"

"The door will be unlocked," I told him and hung up.

I ripped the musty, now-sweaty bedsheets and pillow cases off my bed and shoved them in the hamper in the closet, and then I ripped the mattress pad off, too, and pushed it in after the sheets. I chuckled to myself thinking I might be doing this again in a couple of hours if Daniels and I managed to soil them sufficiently.

My phone ringing again made me wonder if my plans might have fallen apart, just that fast. "Yo!" I barked into the receiver.

"Jaaaaaaames," a familiar baritone intoned.

"Hey Brad."

"I on my way home from work, and when I went past your apartment complex I noticed your truck wasn't in the parking slot it has been for the past five or six weeks, so I was hoping you were back."

I was smiling. I certainly didn't mind a HOT-AS-FUCK man missing me. "I just got in today. Good eye, man," I told him.

"I've got an eye for a hot man with the hottest cock I know. How about giving me a closer look?" His voice was low and husky, and my cock was close to fully hard. "I've missed that bull cock of yours, James!"

Daniels was on his way. I wondered . . .

"You mind a party, Brad?" I asked him.

"Uh," Brad stuttered.

I chuckled. "A multi-man party, Brad," I reassured him. "NOT a chemical party . . . except maybe some beers."

Brad exhaled loud enough that I heard it through the phone. "When."

"How soon can you get here?"

"I'm at the seventy-six station," he told me, a bit of embarrassment, combined with some bravado.

"Come on up!" I ordered and slammed down the phone.

I had about five minutes at the most to get my bed remade . . . if I didn't want to waste time with the hunky college professor to have to wait for my cock while I did housework. I made quick work of it, and his knock on the door coincided with me throwing down the last pillow.

Seeing him when I opened the door, I was, as I always was, stirred by his perfection. Six-one; one-eighty of solid, lean muscle; killer v-shape; curly dark hair, both on his arms (and I knew his legs, torso and oh-so-fuckable ass, too) and coming out of his shirt collar. His movie-star-quality look was equally appealing.

Brad looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my cock jutting out toward him welcomingly. His grin was devilish when he looked up again, and his breathing had deepened. We bro-hugged, and his hardbody against mine further stoked me. But his grip on my nuts and his quiet growl revved my engine to the red zone.

"Get the FUCK out of those clothes!" I growled and kicked the door closed. Only it didn't close.

"The FUCK!" snarled Daniels, kicking the door back.

"STAND DOWN, MARINE!" I barked, seeing Daniels' posture change enough, though not much. "Mike, meet Brad," I offered inanely, gesturing to the stud who still had a grip on my nuts. I looked down as a prompt, and Brad reluctantly let go and turned his body to face Daniels, relieving his twisted neck from his prior view of him. "Brad, meet Mike. You two," I continued, "And I are going to have fun all together."

They stood, eyeing each other, and the testosterone was thick in the air. Daniels' eyes burned holes in Brad's. Brad was less combative, more appreciative of Daniels' highly developed musculature, easily evident under his uniform.

It was like two dogs sniffing each other's asses - I just had to give them time. Finally, Daniels took a step closer to Brad, a smirk in the making. Instead of saying anything, he just reached out and took a tight grip on Brad's crotch, making Brad gasp, his eyes wide. Hefting Brad's ample endowment through his khakis, Daniels' smirk went to a grin. Turning toward me, he said, "This can work!"

At that, Brad reached out and clamped both hands on Daniels' massive shoulders. A satisfied grin spread across his face.

"Okay, you two - don't forget the host!" I joked, again kicking the door closed, this time without opposition, as Daniels quickly stepped out of the way. "Now get those fuckn clothes off, and let's have us some fun! Beer anyone?" I asked, heading to the kitchen and the refrigerator.

I heard clothes and a grunt or two, and as I headed back I grabbed a tub of Vaseline from the bathroom. And when I got into the living room I saw it was a good call.

"MMMRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" Brad groaned, muffled, bent over with his face buried in Daniels' hairy armpit.

Daniels had his big paw clamped on Brad's head, pulling him in, holding him in his pit, his head bobbing as he moaned and growled. "Yeah, stud, suck my sweat, bitch!"

I left the beers on a table and popped the Vaseline open, chucking the cap, too, and scooped a huge glob out . . . and headed straight to Brad's hairy ass. "AHHHHFUCKKKKKKK!" he moaned when my fingers roughly smeared the lube in his crack and two of my greased fingers roughly entered him.

Daniels had Brad's head now held tight over his massive left pec, and I shoved my fingers in past the second knuckle and worked them around to grease his fuckhole and get him ready. It had been over two weeks since I'd had any ass, much less a HOT, furry, perfectly-shaped bubble butt like the one I had in a bowling ball grip.

Brad was being worked both ends - I had him impaled on my long fingers, and Daniels had Brad's head in a tight grip, now on his other pec, guiding him as he licked, sucked and chewed Daniels' slabs and nubs. I found Brad's prostate, nicked it with both of my fingertips, and felt and heard his reaction.

Bucking back HARD, Brad pulled his head off Daniels' tit enough to roar in excitement when I pushed his button. So I did it again, and that time he bit down on Daniels' nip. "OHFUCKYESSSSSSS!" Daniels hissed.

I pulled out and pushed three fingers back into Brad, to a long, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" But I knew he loved it because he shoved back onto my fingers as hard as I was shoving in. "GOD YES!" and a violent shudder followed when I rubbed his p-spot again.

Lining up behind Brad, I took another glob and greased my raging fuckpole. Without ceremony, I grabbed his hip, pulled his ass, held my cock steady and SHOVED into him, like I knew he loved. With a loud, roaring, "OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKKKKYESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" he bucked back as I shoved into him, and he was impaled on my cock, his crack fur tangled in my pubes.

Daniels shoved Brad's head down as he roared. "FUCK YEAH - keep that mouth open just like that!" he ordered, as he shoved Brad's mouth over his cock and pushed in.

A second response from Brad, this one muffled and garbled. "GGGGGGGGGGMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM!" Daniels grinned at me across the length of Brad's appealingly muscled back.

I was concentrating on getting my rhythm going. When I fucked Brad he liked it rough and merciless, and he fucked back every bit as hard as I fucked into him. Usually, though, he had a table, counter, bed or wall to hold onto; right now he was digging his hands into Daniels' tight, muscular torso, but with him fucking Brad's mouth, he was moving more than was good for our counter-rhythm. I reached up his long torso and grabbed him by both shoulders to assist with keeping him steady and began really thrashing into him.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGG!" he appreciatively groaned around a mouthful of Daniels' fuckmeat.

I was really killing his fuckhole - I needed it - BAD! - and my cock and nuts were in total control of me. His lean-musculed shoulders and traps felt good to hold onto. And the eye candy of Daniels' heavily muscled body pumping his cock into Brad's face added to it.

"Love me some spit roasting!" Daniels grinned at me.

"This is some prime bitchbeef here, Mike," I told him unnecessarily. And then I added, "Just like YOU!"

Daniels' grip in Brad's black curly hair was tight - I could see it must hurt from the way Brad's scalp was pulled up. And Daniels was shoving himself into Brad with a skull-fucking fury that was every bit as brutal as my fucking his ass. Brad was choking and coughing and retching and moaning and loving every fucking - and sucking - minute of it.

I could tell I was right because I could see and feel his body tensing between us, in my grip on his shoulders, his back muscles getting more and more rigid as he built up to his own explosion. I loved that about him - getting used like the manbitch he was got him off easily and repeatedly.

And apparently Daniels was loving his suckstyle, too, which I could attest was primo, because he was huffing and chanting, "OH FUCK YEAH - JUST FUCKING LIKE THAT!" and "OH YEAH EAT THAT COCK, BITCH!" and "OH HOLY FUCK I'M CLOSE."

As I was spurred to slam into his cunt harder and grind deeper into his fuckchannel and heard our collisions of slapping manflesh into manflesh and felt my nuts swinging into his, I felt him going up the edge and heard him huffing around Daniels' fuckpole. "MMMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Then his body was tight as a board, and then bucking hard as he exploded. His mancunt was muscular and spasming around my cock, tight and hot and milking me closer to the edge.

"OH FUCK YEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Daniels shouted and pulled Brad's head into his crotch TIGHT as his own muscles tensed and bulged and then his hips were thrusting and Brad was gulping and choking.

"OH THAT'S FUCKING ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" I cried out and felt my nuts explode, sending showers of electrical sparks through me and my seed BLASTing out of me DEEP into Brad!

"MMMMMMMMRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!" Brad cried out, still tackling the load gushing out of Daniels as I blasted HARD inside him.

Daniels was grimacing and spasming as Brad worked his cock over in its final throes, and he finally SHOVED himself back and out of Brad's mouth, stumbling backward with a "WHOA FUCKKKKKKKK!" and shaking his head like he'd been dumbstruck. His still-drooling cock - not sure if it was cocksnot or cum or Brad's saliva hanging ropey off that big, blunt tip - bobbed in front of him, his nuts still tight up.

Brad took a huge breath and swiped his mouth with his furry forearm, still pressed back against me holding my cock in the visegrip of his cuntmuscles. "MMMMMMMMM YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he huffed, grinding his cunt in a twerking motion around my over-sensitized cock.

"GODDDAMMMMMNNNNN I needed that!" I managed to get out between panting for breath as my body fought the flood of sensation emanating from my post-cum sensitized cockhead and Brad's still-milking cunthole.

"I think I could go a round in that," Daniels said, leaned against the door, catching his breath, but his cock still strong and proud and at the ready jutting out in front of him and a nasty grin on his face.

"I got it lubed up for ya!" I smirked, and I pushed Brad off me and whirled him around. "Clean me up!" I ordered, gruffly yanking him by his hair down toward my stinking, slimy cock.

"OH MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!" he moaned and choked as I shoved in and challenged his throat and shoved into it.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I moaned as Brad's talented mouth and throat enveloped me. Then I felt a jolt into me, waving my arm to steady myself against the wall, and Brad's grunt around my cock coincided with the sight of Daniels' veiny cockshaft being shoved into Brad's cunt.

I held steady Brad's head by his hair with one hand, held the wall with the other, felt my nuts respond to seeing Daniels now pounding Brad with his fuckchute full of my seed, now being churned like butter by Daniels' thrusting cockstabs. Of course, Brad's greedy, talented mouth on my reenergized cock and his firm grip around my nuts was pretty damn stimulating too. The heady scent of mansweat and cum in the air was like an after-burner for my nads.

Never having seen Daniels fucking before - just riding my cock - it was a sight. His thrusts were deliberately paced stabs - hard and deep. Then he'd hold a moment, buried to his pubes, before he'd yank his cock out and SLAM it back in again. Each time would cause a SMACK of his groin into Brad's furry butt and, at the same time, a grunting groan from Brad that vibrated around my cock as he worked it up and down, laving it hungrily.

"GodDAMN this boy's ass is like a fucking clenched fist!" Daniels exclaimed. Obviously Brad's cuntmuscles had plenty of energy left after working my fuckrod like a cow milking machine!

"And his mouth knows how to treat a man-sized cock, too . . . Just like you do, my friend!" I told him.

Daniels beamed at the compliment, and he reduced the holds between stabbing fucks, his grin dissolving into a look of pure pleasure.

I was stoked all over again, and I decided to start face-fucking Brad. I took hold of him under his chin, my hand along his neck, feeling his Adam's apple bouncing as I began pistoning into his mouth and throat, picking up the pace. Brad's grunts as Daniels' fuckstick filled him over and over, morphed into long growls spiking with grunts and then growling pleasurably around my long, thick cock. He also swirled his tongue around my plumped cockhead and teased my frenulum, each tongue swipe passing jolts back to my swinging balls.

The stubble on Brad's chin and neck served as added titillation. My own skull-fucking thrusts' pace was increasing - my nads were fueling my pistoning hips, and my balls were impacting his scratchy chin and upper throat and my own hand. I was on my way again, again totally without control, just needing the release.

"OH FUCK, JAMES - I'm gonna nut again! OH MY FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUU-" Daniels trailed off to a choked, agonized groan as he planted himself, all those beautiful muscles taut as he went rigid.

Brad grunted LOUD around my cock, somehow not breaking pace with his tonguework, and Daniels' head went back, a loud howl got louder and lower. Then, with gritted teeth, he hissed and growled and grimaced as he added his load to mine. And I knew Brad's tactics and knew he clenched and milked Daniels' fuckrod like he had mine.

With a YANK to my nuts and a snarling growl and frenzied sucking, Brad pulled me over the edge. "AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I growled as I again exploded, this time a full-body burst that pulsed as my seed pumped into Brad's mouth and throat.

"MMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG!" he gulped and choked around me. I knew I was pumping another ton of cum out . . . pumping again and again as I clutched Brad's head by his hair and throat to hold on.

Daniels was apparently recovering, but he hadn't withdrawn, just stretched with his arms up, hands behind his head, torso muscles rolling, guns flexed. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. "MAN he's good!" he grinned at me.

Brad slowly licked up to my slit and all around and then let my cock out from between his lips. He moved forward, off Daniels' softening cock, with a screwed up face and an "OOOHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEAAAAHHHHH!" as the head cleared his fuckring. With a smirk, he straightened slowly, putting his hand to his back and groaning. "You men know how to FUCK!"

Then, looking at Daniels' slimy cock, he licked his lips. "Go ahead," I prompted.

This time Brad got to his knees, gently taking Daniels' cock in his hand and pulling it into his mouth. Daniels hissed and slapped the door behind him with the palms of his hands and knocked the back of his head against the wood. "HOLYFUCK!"

Brad licked him clean and then licked some drippage off his balls before he finally pulled away, eliciting a gasp from Daniels. As Brad got to his feet, he put out his hand to Daniels. "Brad Farragut. Really glad to meet you!" he grinned.

Daniels took a beat and then slapped his big paw into Brad's. "Mike Daniels, Brad. And back atcha! Seems our mutual friend here," gesturing with his head toward me, his own face screwed into a smirk now, "Knows how to throw a party."

Brad turned and then got a hand out and pulled me toward him, throwing his arm around my neck. "He sure does that!" he grinned. "Oh, and you said something about some beer . . . an hour or more ago . . . didn't you?"

I laughed and smacked his lightly rippled abs. Then I headed for the fridge to get some cold ones. The ones I'd gotten over an hour before had gone warm. From behind me Daniels called, "Gotta carb load if we're gonna keep this party going!"

Oh, yeah, I'd enjoy the rest of this party!



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