Michael's Ghost

This story is dedicated to Andrew Hollerand.

This is a work of fiction. It is, however, based at least in part on real people and a few actual events. Many of the conversations represented here took place. Having experienced the joys of being outed in public by another myself, I have taken the liberty of changing the names and altering the events enough to hopefully prevent anyone from being embarrassed.

As always, this story is intended for an adult audience interested in Gay erotic literature. If you are not of legal age--that's eighteen in the US--or are offended by depictions of homosexuality or what homosexuals do when you're not around, then I strongly request that you find another place to surf. This story remains the property of the author and may not be reprinted in part or in whole without my permission.

Love and a wet kiss, SoQueer.

Chapter 3

"You're going where?" I asked, still half asleep. My father had tried to work my ass off all day Saturday, but by the look of him, I won the battle. He made little grunts and groans with every movement. Sunday brunch was turning out to be no picnic for him, either.

"To Yemen!" My mother exclaimed. She was all brightness and cheer. "Your father was selected to head the sales delegation on some big water treatment facility they're building over there!"

"Great," I said while yawning. "Have fun."

"I'm going to ask that sweet Mrs. Smith down the street to let you stay at her house while we're gone. It'll only be a couple of weeks."

"God, Mom! Not her! She smells funny!"

"The boy's right, Dear," my father piped in, "she does smell funny."

My mother shot him a dirty look. "Well where then, Mr. Smarty! If it weren't for the baby we could send Marky up to Todd's." Todd was my older brother. He had gotten married a year earlier. The baby was eight months old. I'll let you figure out the math.

"Why can't I just stay here?" I asked. My father shot me one of his 'looks'. I was still in the dog house as far as he was concerned, and the thought of turning me loose on my own for two weeks didn't sit well with him. "Or maybe I can stay with some friends!"

"Not that Gibbs kid!" my father said. I don't know if it was my besting him in work the day before or whether it was not letting him get to me Friday night, but my father's remarks were missing their usual bite.

"I don't see much of him any more. I was thinking I could go stay with David."

"Good! That kid is a strange cookie! Who's this 'David' ?"

I was shocked. This was the most interest my father had shown in my friends since I was ten. "He's Mrs. Fambrough's grandson. He's staying here for the summer." And did I tell you that he has the most astonishing blue eyes you've ever seen? "I'll bet Mrs. Fambrough would let me stay out there with them. I could help David with the some of the stuff he's doing for her." And if we just happened to find ourselves alone...well, boys will be boys.

"Oh! I don't know, Honey," my mother said. "Having one teenager in the house is hard enough, but two can be down right work. I should know. And Mrs. Fambrough's not so young anymore!"

Mrs. Fambrough wasn't more than twenty years older than my mother, but she refused to dye her hair and had never wore a lick of make up in her life. She was the type of person who didn't give a damn about what other people thought of her. She may not have been included in Boston's 'in' crowd, but it wasn't because they didn't want her. As a slip of a girl she had landed the most successful farmer in the area. He was twenty years her senior and still unmarried at the time. They only had one child, David's father. Not long after David was born, Old Man Fambrough fell off a tractor and was run over by the harrows. Rumor had it that it was the largest insurance settlement in Georgia history. It was generally understood that Mrs. Fambrough was well-healed, but nothing from her appearance gave the town speculators any clue as to the size of any insurance settlement.

"Ha, Honey," my father sighed. "Let the boy ask. There's no harm in asking."

David was surprised to hear my voice on the phone. "I figured you'd get grounded for the rest of the summer," he said.

"I'm not out of it yet. I've got a favor to ask you."

"Name it. It's yours. Want me to hire a hit-man?"

"My parents are going out of town for a couple of weeks and I need some place to stay. Got any suggestions?" I heard the phone hit the floor as David ran to where ever his grandmother was.

"I don't know," I heard him yelling as he picked up the phone a couple of minutes later. "When are they leaving?" he asked me.

"Next Saturday"

"That means you'll be with me for the fourth."

"Yeah. Wanna do fireworks"

"I thought that's what we did Friday night!" I could almost see the sexy grin on his face. "But I'm all for a repeat." I heard a muffled sound as David put his hand on the receiver. "Just a minute. Grandma wants to talk to you."

My palms started sweating, and my stomach tightened so hard I thought my pants would fall off. "Mark?" I heard a mellow voice on the other end say.

"Yes, Ma'am"

"We'd love to have you. Stay as long as you'd like. You and David can even share a room if you'd like," she said. Did she know, I asked myself.

"Yes Ma'am, I'd like that very much. And thank you."

"Don't mention it. You just come on, and we'll make a party out of it."

David took the phone back. "Whatcha doing tonight?" he asked.

"I'm on restriction until Saturday. This phone call is my one reprieve." I could feel his disappointment. "David, does your grandmother know?"

"I don't think so. You can never tell, though. Grandma's a sharp old bird...at least that's what she says. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if she's figured it out. Why?"

"She wants us to share a room."

"Is that a problem?"

"I think it's great," I said. "I wasn't expecting it, that's all." I heard my mother walk into the room behind me, signaling me to get off the phone. "Listen, I've got to go. I'll call you again as soon as I can."

I hung up the phone without saying goodbye. The I-love-you's were understood so nothing else seemed necessary. The room was spinning around me. I felt as if I'd explode with jubilation. Two weeks. Two whole weeks of waking up next to next to him! Fourteen nights of passion followed by blissful sleep in his strong arms! My dick was so hard! What was it about this guy that he always left me standing in public with a mammoth erection?

"Well!" she exclaimed. "From the look on your face I'd say that was a resounding 'Yes'!?"

The next five days drug past. My mother called Mrs. Fambrough and verified all the arrangements. She would drop me off there around four on Friday. After she hung up the phone she sat down across from me at the kitchen table. "You know, I never realized what a nice person she is. She always seemed so--I don't know--distant, like she didn't want to be bothered or something."

"David says she's a hoot," I replied. "The other day she raced him in a tree climbing contest."

Mom was visibly shocked. "Well I never! Still a tom-boy at her age! You'd think she'd have grown up by now." The conversation grew quite. Mom sat enjoying the last of her cup of coffee. I was lost in daydreaming about stroking the hair on David's legs. "You know," she said, breaking the silence, "I like her. I'm glad you're going to get to spend some time out there. It'll do you good to spend some time away from your father."

I turned in my seat to face her. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've grown up a lot this summer. I was so proud of you the other day, the way you stood up to your father without losing your temper." She put a timid hand on mine. "It's his way, Son. I don't approve, but what can I do? Anyway, he told me to tell you that your probation ends when I put you out at David's. You'll be under Mrs. Fambrough's house rules." She drew in close to me. "Just try not to make her worry!"

The Fambrough house was a white two-story wood-framed structure built just before the first world war. It had a long open porch across the front. The second story had a screened-in porch wrapped all the way around it, and all the upstairs rooms opened onto it. Such arrangements were necessary in the days before central air conditioning to provide places cool enough to sleep during hot summer nights. Now they added an air of nostalgia and romance to what otherwise was a just a place to live. The house had been well maintained, and the yards were filled with flowers. Out behind the house a large fruit orchards and vegetable gardens stretched into the distance.

David was sitting on the front porch when we drove up. He bounded down the steps and to the car in what seemed to be a single step. I was surprised--and not a little jealous--to see him go to my mother's door and open it instead of mine. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Day. Thank you again for letting Mark come stay with us," he said. "I'll take good care of him!" He wasn't missing a trick, and from the looks of my mother he had her under his thumb.

"Is your grandmother here, David?" she asked. "I'd like to thank her again for letting Mark stay with you."

About that time Mrs. Fambrough walked out from behind the house. She was covered from head to toe in axle grease. "Doris!" she said in that velvet voice. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Why Lydia Fambrough! Whatever have you been doing?" she asked in shock.

"I've been working on the tractor. The PTO went out, and I had to overhaul it so the field hands could use it Monday. " Lydia Fambrough was a woman of independent means, meaning of course that she was very independent and she had the means to do whatever she damn well pleased. "I was just going in to get cleaned up."

"Well," my mother stuttered. "I-I just wanted to thank you again for letting my son come and stay with you. I do so hope he won't be any imposition?"

"Of course not, Doris!" she answered. "I have a feeling my David here will keep him pretty much out of site. But don't you worry none. I'll keep a tight rein on them both."

I let out a sigh of relief when my mother drove off. The look on her face said she had serious doubts about leaving her impressionable young son in the clutches of a woman who overhauled her owned heavy equipment. Mrs. Fambrough bent over double and laughed hard. It was a good, throaty laugh, nearly as deep and resonate as David's. "Did you see the look on 'er face when I rounded that corner?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'd've given a thousand dollars for a picture of that!" I could see the next two weeks were going to be very interesting. "Come on, Boys. Let me get cleaned up, and I'll rustle us up some victuals! David, you get your guest settled in."

David led me to his room. I sat my bags down as he closed the door. David's room was about the same size as mine, but whereas mine was a disaster area David's was neat and clean. The furnishings were comprised of a full-sized bed, two night stands, a dresser, and a chest of drawers. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere.

I felt David's hand on my shoulder. I turned so that his arm would envelope me. "I hope Grandma didn't embarrass you down there. She doesn't put much stock in other people's opinions."

"I like her." I said, and I kissed him. David pulled me tightly to him. His crotch ground into mine as I wrapped a leg around him.

"We gotta stop," he said as he pushed us apart. "Grandma's expecting us downstairs. We'll slip off later."

Mrs. Fambrough's idea of a 'some victuals' ended up being fried ham, squash, mashed potatoes with red-eye gravy, crowder peas, corn on the cob, biscuits and fresh butter. Compared to my mother's idea of a meal it looked like a feast for forty. I ate way too much. After supper we continued sitting at the table talking and nibbling on the left-overs. No one seemed in any hurry to move.

After an hour of small talk Mrs. Fambrough stood up with a dish in either hand. "Time to clean this mess up, boys," she said. "David, help me clean off the table, and then you go and get your bath. It'll give me and Mark here a chance to get to know each other."

I saw the color leave David's face. He was nervous, but I didn't feel I had anything to fear from this woman. She had a way of making you putting me at ease, and felt instinctively that she was to be trusted. When she stepped into the pantry to retrieve some clean towels David pulled me aside. "Be careful," he whispered. "She's sharper than you think." When Mrs. Fambrough came back into the kitchen David was standing ten feet away from me like nothing happened.

"You run along, David," she said. "Mark and I will get this." David turned and gave me a nervous wink on his way upstairs.

Mrs. Fambrough handed me a dish cloth and stuck her hands up to her elbows in the steaming dish water. "I'm glad you're here, Mark. David needs to spend some time with people his own age." She started handing me dishes. "It's not good for a boy his age to be stuck out here with an old woman and no friends."

"David seems to like it here," I replied. "He talks about the place a lot."

"Funny," she said, handing me a bowl, "I thought he only talked about you." She looked at me and smiled. "He likes you, Mark. He says you make him laugh."

That's only because I worship his laughter, I thought. "I like him, too."

"He doesn't laugh much around me anymore." She handed me a large platter. "Has he told you about Michael?"

"He told me that he died and that his mother blames him for Mike's death." I said sheepishly. I felt like I had just betrayed a trust. "Is that true? Does she?"

"Damn silly woman!" she cursed under her breath. "She doesn't know the first thing about her own children!" She took the towel out of my hand and dried hers. She walked over to the table and sat down. I sat down in the chair across from her. "David loved his brother, Mark.

"Last December I went to Ponte Vedra to spend the holidays with my boy and his two sons. Mike turned sixteen on the twenty-third. He got a car for Christmas. David got money. David always got money. My son and his silly wife never made any bones about the fact that Michael was their favorite. No matter how hard he tried, David came in a distant second. And yet, he loved Michael. He never once blamed him for the way their parents acted toward him.

"Michael, on the other hand, did blame their parents. Even when he was a little boy he would stand between my daughter-in-law and David. He protected David. God knows someone needed to!" She paused briefly. "Well, you can imagine what his reaction was to the car! Michael threw the keys in their face and stormed out of the house. I heard all the shouting and went to see what was going on. When I got there I saw David pick up the keys and run out him. Apparently he talked Michael into going for a ride. That night we got a call from the Sheriff's department telling us their had been a wreck.

"Michael was killed on impact. David walked away without a scratch, but you couldn't tell it from looking at him. He was covered in blood when I got there. The Deputy told me they had to pry Michael's body away from him." Mrs. Fambrough put her hand on mine. It was warm and soft. "You see, Michael was the only one in that house that loved David. I mean really loved him. Without Michael, well, there was no one to intercede between David and his harpy of a mother. David's hope died in that crash. I tried to get them to let me bring him here then, but she'd have none of it. She wasn't content to let him go until she'd poured out every ounce of contempt she had upon him."

She grew quiet. I patted her hand and sat with her in silence. A few tears flowed briefly from her stark blue eyes, but she never made a sound. In that one moment I saw more strength in her than I had ever seen in my own mother my entire life. This was no simpering southern belle sitting before me.

"David was right, Boy!" she said as she wiped her face dry with the towel. "You have a funny way on folks."

I smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Fambrough. I take that as a complement."

"I meant it as one. Most folks around here would've started gibbering half-way through that. You had enough sense to let an old woman babble her fool head off. That's a rare gift in a man." She got up and pulled a old photograph in a dusty frame off the refrigerator and handed it to me. "That was my husband, David Michael Fambrough. He had that gift, too. People around these parts all still think I married an old man for his money. Hell no! I married him 'cause he knew how to listen! I didn't find out about his money until after the wedding."

I looked closely at the man in the photograph. He appeared to be in his late twenties and looked to be an older version of David. "He was a handsome man," I said absently.

"It ain't about looks, son. It's all about heart. I don't care how handsome the man, if he ain't got no heart then you're in trouble. Best to steer clear of that kind all together," she said still looking over my shoulder at the photograph. "What about you? Have you got heart?"

I thought for a moment. In an odd way I realized she was talking about my feelings for her grandson. She wanted to know if I loved him, but she had the finesse not to ask me outright. "I'd like to think I do, yes ma'am."

I heard David bounding down the stairs. "Next!" he yelled as he came into the kitchen. His freshly-scrubbed appearance made him seem to glow. "What're you two looking at?" he asked.

Why, you of course, I thought.

I laid back in the claw-foot tub and let the hot water soak some of the tension out of my body. My mind ran over my encounter with David's grandmother. There was a pallor hanging over this family, and now it hung over me, too. David had said I could be Mike's twin. David's grandmother all but said that I had his character, too. Once again I felt the Michael's ghost looking over my shoulder. "What the hell am I doing here?" I asked aloud.

I got out of the tub, sat down on the edge, and pulled the stopper. I let my mind go blank as I watched the water swirl down the drain. I closed my eyes and tried to let the heaviness I felt drain away with the bath water, but it wouldn't leave me. Without realizing it David's grandmother had laid the responsibility for his future happiness squarely on my shoulders. Mark, I thought, sometimes you just have to say, 'what the fuck.' "What the fuck!" I said aloud to no one.

The door opened. David slipped in and sat on the commode. "Grandma's gone to bed. Want me to dry you off?"

David's offer made me realized I was still dripping wet and getting cold. I surrendered myself to his ministrations. He wrapped a large towel around me and kissed my mouth. I parted my lips and took his tongue inside. David pulled me into himself tightly, grinding our hardening erections against each other. He started spinning me around, his hands caressing me, and his lips snatched kisses with each turn. His laughter became music, and I danced for him. I was naked for him and him alone. Our bodies melted together in a kiss and we become each other.

David led me naked across the hall to his bedroom. The room was dark, and the moonlight streaming through the open windows cast a cool blue glow on everything.

David shucked his pajamas and gently wrapped his bare arms around me. "I'm so glad you're finally here. I want to hold you in my arms while you sleep."

"Is that why you let me fall asleep in your arms the other night?" I asked between kisses.

David pulled away from me and sat down on the bed. "I started not to wake you. You're even more beautiful asleep than awake" He pulled me down beside him. "I probably won't get much sleep tonight."

"Not if I can help it!" I growled as I pushed him back. I started rough-housing with him, tickling him under his arms and down his sides. David thrashed around on the bed in a vain attempt to throw me off. As a last resort he started trying to find my weak spots, finally succeeding in putting me on the defensive long enough to flip me on my back and pin me to the mattress.

"Gotcha where I want you now!" he whispered. I looked down at the throbbing erection bouncing on my chest. The head was glistening with pre-cum in the pale moonlight. David saw the object of my interests and thrust his hips forward. I lashed out at it with my tongue, lapping up the ample fluid seeping from the slit. His man-juice had a musky sweetness to it. He pushed his cock up against my mouth, and I took it in. At first I only let my tongue dance around the head, but then I dipped my head forward, letting more and more of the shaft into my hot. wet mouth.

David moaned, "Yeah, suck that thing. Do it baby!" His encouragement was all I needed. I sucked on his engorged dick with abandoned. David started bucking his hips wildly, thrusting his tool deep inside my mouth. With each lunge his pubes were pressed against my nose, and my nostrils filled with the fresh-scrubbed scent of his crotch. I matched his surges with my own, further driving him into a frenzy. David grabbed my head with both hands and proceeded to fuck my face with savage eagerness, all the while moaning his need for more.

I grabbed David's ass with my hands and started pulling him even harder against me. His cock head was bouncing against the back of my throat with each lunge forward. I dug my fingers deep into his ass, signaling him of my rapture, as David began slapping his balls against my chin. I knew he was close, so I slipped a finger in his ass hole.

David shoved his cock deep in my throat. He was cumming. I pushed him back in time to get the last eruptions of his boiling cum. It felt like molten lead inside me, burning its way to my belly. I kept sucking, trying to pull more of the juice out of him.

David pulled his shrinking cock out of my mouth and rolled over on his back. His chest was heaving up and down, and sweat glistened all over his body. I ran my hand up his belly to his chest and gave his nipple a tweak.

"Wow!" he said, gulping his breaths. "That was fantastic. Where did you learn to do that?"

"A friend taught me how about ten minutes ago."

"Just a friend?" he asked. David rolled over to face me. His placed an arm around my waist. "I'd like to think we're more than just a friends."

I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his lips to mine. I couldn't say the words he wanted to hear even though I knew I was in love with him. I put my arms around him and pulled him closer. I felt the heat of his tight body flowing into mine, and I melted into him. My heart was beating just for him as if my very life was now an act of devotion trained solely to please this blond young paragon in my arms. I squeezed myself against him and buried my face in his neck. "I love you," I whispered, afraid he would hear me and not respond.

David pulled back and turned on the light over the bed. His blue eyes were riveted to mine. I was suddenly terrified of the hold this Adonis had over me. I would do any thing he asked. I'd go anywhere to be with him and face any danger to please him. "I want to see your eyes when you say that," he said.

"I love you."

"You don't even realize it, do you?"

"Realize what?"

"That you're beautiful!" He bent down and kissed me. His large hands held my face close to his. His leg slid between mine and spread them apart. I felt his hard on pressing into me.

David suddenly pulled away and sat up. He was breathing hard, gulping in his breaths. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I...don't...This is..."

"Sshh!" I sat up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I told you once before that I don't care if we do anything or not. It's OK."

David rolled out of bed and walked to the door leading out to the second-story porch. "I gotta get some air."

I laid back and tried to figure out what to do. There was no mistaking his excitement. If anything, David had been more turned on than I had. He had been the aggressor. Why then did he pull away? Had it been because I told him I loved him? I got up and slipped on a pair of underwear. I walked out on the porch and sat in the chair next to David without saying a word. Off in the distance thunderheads flashed in pinks and blues as the lightning within them illuminated the cloud-tops. I could feel the same storm next to me in the body of the man I loved as he slowly rocked back and forth.

"Does it scare you that I'm in love with you?" I asked.

"No. It scares me that I'm in love with you!"

"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say. We sat in silence watching the approaching thunderstorm. The wind had picked up, and the leaves on the trees in front of the house gently whispered their prayers for rain. David had stopped rocking. He was sitting so still I wondered if he were asleep.

I closed my eyes and thought hard about what he had said to me in the bedroom. I didn't realize I was beautiful. It was the second time he had told me he thought so. He was right: I didn't have a clue. No one else in my entire life had ever told me I was good looking, much less beautiful. It was David, I told myself. Before him I just was. Now I'm beautiful in his eyes.

"I made an ass out of myself, didn't I?" His voice startled me out of my train of thought.

"No." I said. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

"I'm afraid to love you." David reached over and grabbed my hand. "I'm afraid something will happen if I love you. Love doesn't work too well for me."

"I'm not Michael, David. I'm not going anywhere."

"Michael! You've been talking with Grandma. She's the only person who called him that. What did she tell you?"

That you need me, I thought. That I'm to take care of you and never let anything hurt you again! "Not much, really. Just a few details."

"Did she tell you about my 'loving' mother?"

"She said your parents liked to play favorites and that Michael was the favorite."

"Mike wasn't their favorite," he said. "Mike was the means to get to me, at least that's what he always said. It didn't matter what it was, if it was Mike then it was perfect. If it was ME, well, it was crap, wasn't it?

"One time, my mother blew her stack because I didn't arrange my clothes to suit her, so Mike came up with a plan. The next laundry day I put up his clothes and he put mine. You know what? She fucking raved over his room. When she got to mine she went ballistic. She started yelling at me. 'You can't even sort a drawer! Why can't you be like Mike?' She took a magic marker and wrote the days of the week on my underwear, one day for each pair. Then she made me sort them in order. Poor Mike just stood there crying. There was nothing he could do. He knew he was to blame, but if he said anything she'd only get worse."
"Do you have any idea what it's like to have to undress in P.E. with 'Monday' written across your butt? I was fourteen. Fourteen years old! For two years guys at school would ask me what day it was. When I moved here Grandma took me out and bought me new underwear. We burned all my old ones."
"You mean she was still making you do it?" I asked.

"And God help me if I wore the wrong date, too! So! Now you know why I slapped her."

"YOU HIT YOUR MOTHER??!?"

"Last May we were in the kitchen fixing supper. She turned to me and said, 'Mike, Honey, get the tea pitcher down for Mother, won't you?' I froze. She must have realized what she had said 'cause she freaked. She started screaming at me--called me a murderer. She told me it was all my fault and that she wished I had died instead of her precious Michael. That bitch!

"Well, I lost it! Before I realized what was happening she was lying on the floor with my palm print across her jaw. I ran out of the house and spent the next two nights on the beach." David buried his head in his hands. "The police picked me up the third night and brought me back. All my clothes were packed and Grandma was there waiting to bring me here. I didn't even tell them goodbye."

I sat in shocked silence. The storm was growing closer, and the distant peals of thunder added an ominous tone to David's narrative. My little annoyances with my own mother seemed suddenly so trite in comparison. I recognized what a good mother Doris Day truly was and made a mental note to tell her how much I appreciated her.

"She was right, though," he said. He was crying. "I never should have picked up those keys. Mike would still be alive."

"You can't know that, David."

He looked at me. "You weren't there. I was."

I sat quietly watching the storm. I couldn't understand where I fit into all of this, but I loved him. He needed to tell me this, and his needs were now my desires. As painful as this was for me to hear, it was more painful for David to tell.

"Grandma thinks I can't remember anything after we left the house."

Here it comes, I told myself. "Can you?"

"I can remember everything up to just after the wreck. We drove out to get a burger and cruise the beach. There's not much happening that time of year, but the sea is spectacular in December. Mike didn't talk much, but when he did he was saying crazy shit. He was really scaring me. I tried to calm him down." David looked over at me. There was something he wanted to say...

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're wondering."

"He told me he was going to kill himself. I freaked. I told him they would blame me. They always blamed me when he fucked up! I begged him not to do it. I begged him not to leave me. He called me a pussy and laughed. He said he wanted to hurt her the same way she had hurt us all those years. He said he hated her. You know what's funny? Up until that day I loved our mother. But not Mike! No! He hated her with a passion.

"I thought I was talking some sense in him and finally got him to agree to sleep on it. It was dark. We were almost home. There was this curve up ahead, and he turned to me and told me that he loved me. Then he laughed. I saw the pole just before we hit it. Every thing moved so slow! The car clipped a section out of the pole and kept on going, leaving a piece of the pole dangling in mid-air. It struck the windshield right in front of Michael. I blacked out for a minute, and when I came to he was a mess. I don't remember much else."

I debated whether or not to tell him what his grandmother had said about the deputies having to pry Michael away from him. I sat watching the storm. It was close, now. From time to time the foundations of the house shook with the heavy rumble of thunder. I could feel the cool moisture on my skin, and a chill ran up my spine. I decided not to add to David's anguish.

"David?" He didn't answer. "I love you."

"Please don't..."

"But you are not to blame for your brother's actions. He would have killed himself even if you hadn't been there. And he tried to kill you."

"I know. But I couldn't let anyone know that. I loved him. I couldn't let people know it wasn't an accident. I told them he must have fallen asleep at the wheel." David stood up and leaned against a banister and watched the storm. The flashes of light from the approaching storm danced over his naked body. "I was lying there in your arms kissing you and thinking, 'he said he loves me' and then I saw Mike's face. Mark, I...I love you so much it hurts, and I'm afraid. You scare the hell out of me."

I stood up and put my arms around him. "I don't want to pressure you. We'll take it slow and see where it goes. I'll sleep in the other room tonight if you'd like."

David turned around and hugged me. "No. I want you with me. I'll be O.K."

I started kissing his neck. David's hands were all over me. My underwear fell to the floor, and his hands began playing with my ass. "I owe you something," he said and he dropped to his knees. He took my erection in his hand and began exploring its length. His other hand cupped my balls and slowly pulled and massaged them. All the time he was looking up at me with those incredible blue eyes.

I threw my head back and groaned. Just the sight of him kneeling naked at my feet was about to make me pop. "Slow down. I too close." David took his hands off my cock and ran them over my legs. He leaned forward and licked my nuts. He took one of my balls in his mouth and played with it with his tongue. He pulled back and let my erection stand on its on. The tip of its engorged head was almost touching his lips. He stuck his tongue out and licked some of the pre-cum off the slit. My dick went wild, bobbing and twitching. I thrust my hips forward and pushed my dick up against his mouth. He parted his lips and I slowly slipped the head of my aching dick into the wonderful wetness of his mouth. It felt like I was dipping my prick into hot water.

David concentrated his attentions on the head at first. His tongue rubbed back and forth along the base, making my legs shake. "Take more of it into your mouth, Baby. Yeah. Suck my dick!" David needed no further encouragement. His mouth sank down my shaft without pausing. I felt his nose pressing into my pubes as he swallowed more and more of me. The stubble on his chin pressed into my nuts like a thousand pin-pricks. "Shit! I'm cumming!"

David backed off my cock and began pumping it with his fist. "I want to see you shoot!" he said. His fist squeezed my cock, pumping furiously. A spurt of hot jism shot out of the head and struck the screen behind him. "Yeah, Baby, shoot that stuff!"

The second spurt hit him in the mouth. I felt my knees go weak. My whole insides shot out of the end of my dick. I shot the biggest load of my young life, spraying him with hot cum. David continued pumping on my cock, trying to get even more of my man-juice out of me.

I put my hand on David's pumping fist and pulled him off my shrinking member. "That was great, I said. "Now come here and give me a kiss." David stood up. My cum was streaming down his face and across his chest. I started licking myself off him, surprised at how good my own cum tasted. I scooped up a wad with my tongue and kissed him, running my cum-soaked tongue in his mouth. David pulled me to him, his erection crushing into my belly. I felt my own cock spring back to life. The rain started falling. Lightning began dancing through the skies around us. I could feel the rumble of thunder through his body. "Lets go in," I said. I wanted to make love to him while the storm raged around us.