The Men of Xi Chi Omega

Listen, I swear this started as a Christmas present for our parents, that's all. Who has less money than a man in college and living in a frat house? Separately and collectively we didn't have enough money to buy a canary for the house much less a canary for each parent. Don't even mention girl friends who did not consider a great fucking as any sort of gift, it was the gift that did not keep on giving. At least until the next time and she was horny. Okay, we were hornier but that's a side issue. 

Jim, who was our President brought up the issue of gifts at a meeting just before Halloween at which we also discussed the party we planned for Halloween assuming someone could be persuaded to bring the booze. The starkness with which he presented the problem made us all sort of look down, squirm and not offer suggestions; It was a good moment to be either an orphan or homeless, neither condition required gift giving. That being said we moved on to the party and who would go as what or would we all be the same character?

It was almost Thanksgiving and some of the guys were even edgy about going home for that knowing the subject of gifts would come up and they might be asked, privately by each parent, what we planned to give to the other parent. The answer, "It's going to be a surprise" was not only accurate but more realistic than either side knew. There were bits and pieces of Christmas everywhere and some sad ducks walked in to discover that Christmas had already arrived at their homes, everything decorated, just waiting a tree with the mandatory presents under it.

We were beyond the age where "something made at school", awful as it might have been, would have been acceptable in that it was from their much loved child. In theory we were all still much loved "children" but older and, in theory, capable of scraping up some capital to acquire a present. We all jumped over the fact that on a weekly basis we each spent enough on ourselves for such things as booze, condoms and gas to buy quite a fine present for....somebody.

My roomie and I thought about staying at the frat-although we all knew their would be only minimal power during that period. To accommodate that idea we decided we'd tell our families we were staying here, had volunteered even, to work with the homeless, the down trodden, the unfortunate and that was our Christmas gift. Not even with our most convincing lies to ourselves could make us believe it. Stuffed into our bunks, nursing the two beers we'd had money for that day, no good idea came to us. 

The solution was as close as our pockets but it took a football game to realize it. Lurching from party to party in the parking lot before the game, we clicked away on our phones to, I suppose, verify our diminishing states of drunkenness. The next day, as we shared what we'd done....it clicked. Why not just gather all the guys, have a photo made and.....for very little, have that made into a picture (suitable for framing) we could give our parents. To sweeten the idea we could each be holding a sign that was specific to each family as well as a banner that said something corny like, "Merry Christmas to Our Families From the Men of Xi Chi Zeta". Which is what we did. 

Now, it might be suggested that one picture wasn't really the sort of gift anyone would want but...we worked on the dynamic that it was clearly aimed at family, it was sort of personal and it gave them a memory they could keep forever. Whose parent did not carry at least a few pictures of their family to show other adults after they'd been shown? (My roomie was asked by his parents to show them a picture of his girl friend whom they had not met. While he had a picture, it wasn't the kind anyone's parents wanted to see. As happens, his was of the two of them, she was giving him head.)

On the day we took this memento, everyone was cleaned up, looking sharp in  some sort of clean, ironed shirt, jeans and sneakers from which several month of crud had been scraped. To get all sixty two of us in one shot, the guy who we found to take the picture almost had to stand in the next county but, thanks to technical wizardry, it could be shrunk just enough to be an eight by ten glossy in which each of us was easily recognizable. The signs we were each holding could have been in Esperanto or Urdu but the overall effect, we told ourselves, was great. Problem solved. All we had to do was make sure our copies didn't get spindled, folded or mutilated until gift giving time and all was great. 

Christmas day came and, mercifully, went but before we'd even got past cleaning up the mess that is Christmas, we were calling each other almost hysterically laughing at what a great success it had been. To a man, every family had loved it, loved all of us and loved the Frat for doing this wonderful thing. Later we found out that some, well, most of the brothers had made a more personal and intimate photo for their lady. This usually consisted of a close up of their cock and balls from which a note, something like "Merry Christmas and this one's for you_______" (fill in the blank). Whether these were treasured or not depended on the recipient's frame of mind and whether she'd expected something less intimate and more personal, say a piece of jewelry. Still, we'd jumped that bump and wouldn't have to worry about it for another year. Maybe, there was some fervor for this, make it a yearly deal, just change things about so it was obviously year X and not year Y. 

I personally blame a golf team at a small college in Kansas for what happened next. All eight of their guys posed naked but carefully shielded with things used in golf. It was clear they were stark naked as, cleverly, there was a bit of ball or a side of cock showing but, on the whole it looked more like a school boy prank. We, cityites that we were, laughed it off saying you'd have to be a cow to see it and that, overall it was a "dumb" idea. Until someone read the fine print. Seems this was done as a fund raiser and, for the area in which they lived, it had been a whopping success. Papers from St. Louis to Denver carried the story, along with a carefully edited version of the picture AND an address to which you could send five bucks and get your own copy. For eight guys, they'd raised about ten thousand dollars per guy a number with which you could not argue.

That the team was suspended for three tournaments and parents, faculty and a large number of locals were shocked and outraged was only a side issue. No one said they had to return the money. It was about then the picture and the story migrated to FaceBook and the results are predictable.

Fuck all that, what we saw were the big bucks. Our only thought was how to cash in and how much we might make. None of us were members of any on campus teams so the threat of suspension didn't exist. The only question was....how far to go? The golfers had used, mainly, their club head covered with the usual golf club covers to conceal their genitals so that form of "cock tease" had already been taken. Besides, none of us had any idea of going less than all the way. We all had phones with cameras so...the basics were all there, we had cocks and balls and a way to sell them to the world. And "sales" was what was our principal motive. Of course we couldn't just hawk nude pictures of the frat, that was porn but....if we said this was for a "good cause" that would benefit, that altered the scheme of things. 

We had to find a charity so desperate that any contribution would be welcomed as well as so obscure no one had heard of it but the name sounded good and worthwhile. Eventually we found-I don't know how-a group of crazies who were set on protecting Piranhas. With just a little tweaking, with their approval of course, the name of the fish was deleted and "rivers" in general was substituted. They were a bona fide charity which gave us access to a tax exempt status. (One of the brothers was an Econ major who, with his kind of thinking was destined to do very well until the law nabbed him.) That settled all that was left to do was take the picture and let the good times and the cash roll on. So we thought.

Nudity and fraternity life should be one word; Go above the first floor of any frat and be prepared for all stages of undress. The shower room at ours was closer to the Amazon rain forest, just add some parrots and an Anaconda and the naked guys were the natives. However, when it came to being photographed with everything hanging out or down or straight ahead, there were divided thoughts. Some guys, me for example, would have attended church in the nude but others were less certain how they felt about even most of it being on displayed. There was an answer to this; Anyone not willing was stripped, pictures made, some of them far beyond just naked-as in looking like they were sucking the cock of another brother-and they were convinced. Also, those photos went in a sort of album kept by the fraternity president. Ultimately, everyone was photographed, sort of porno mug shots in that you posed face forward and, after a bit of working on it, a side view with your cock nice and stiff.

Marketing whatever we chose to market presented a problem in that our fraternity had been singled out by the Health Department for a number of issues, some of which we'd fixed and some which were only fixable by arson left undone.  Our overall GPA kept us on campus but if anyone so much as flunked First Aid, we'd be hit with a lengthy probation probably extending into our days of Social Security. No word, much less picture, of what we were selling needed to be known within a hundred miles of campus and that presented a problem. 

Which led us to Salvatore and his brother Angelo, photographers and pornographers. A package deal, we'd not only get the pictures but staged to our advantage aesthetically. Sort of. They ran a studio called "Michelangelo Men" which specialized in pictures of men generally for resumes, wall photos at an office etc. That was what their card said however, when we explained what we wanted their unshaven, black furred faces lit up as they produced a portfolio of "nudes" which, they said, were a specialty of theirs, usually given as "intimate gifts" for girl friends, wives....other interested parties. Certainly we saw what they had but pointed out our purpose was to have pictures of the frat guys that would sell. For a worthy charity. There was a pause while they looked at us and we looked at them during which another portfolio was produced and handed to us. No comment from them and, after looking after several pages of straight porn we smiled and said something to the effect of, "that's more like it". 

As they said, we'll photograph you fucking an iron deer but to get what you want, something saleable you had to start with what you were marketing, in this case 60 men. Their question was how many of our soon-to-be models were going to cause arousal in what they saw and how many would cause laughter. We had an answer, our nude mug shots, the ones full frontal and profile with a stiffy. We could tell they were impressed by our foresightedness. Our only condition was that our photographs, that they had in their hands, did not leave the frat house, these were done for our own purposes, such as the one we were discussing with them. They asked for a few minutes to "look into things" which we, of course gave them. 

Jim and I stood out side the room wondering what they would say beyond that they would do it. That was a given. Neither of us were sure that the level of photography was what anyone had in mind but, as we'd been told, they were telling and showing us what sold, not what looked nice on the mantle. Also, we'd have to sell this to whomever the brothers selected for the job, maybe not an easy sale. Photographing a guy jerking off is one thing, showing him being jerked off is another; The difference between art and reality. 

"Yo, bros" and they laughed salaciously. "You got a good crop of cock and balls here, some good bodies, and one or two outstanding sets of nuts that only needed to be inked to improve them." We assumed not tattooed but with a pen. Or something. Nope, some guy getting his nuts colored would sell real well and there could be a companion set with another guy getting his dick pierced and tattooed.
If Jim or I had ever considered ourselves to be soignee in all situations, this was the test case, Trying to seem only casually interested, Jim asked them to show us who they had in mind. d

We all sat down at a table with two stacks of pictures one for in and one for not in. The "in" stack was smaller than the "not in" stack but that was always going to happen. We may have loved some of our tubbier brethren but the sight of them in the shower was enough to turn you gay; We knew they were out. 

One at a time the brothers turned over a picture, pointed out the good points, the not so good points and what they thought they could do with him. It was the sort of critical appraisal you never, ever expect to get in your life but...now we were hearing it. In the back of my mind I suspected that both of us would make the "in" pile. Jim was a swimmer and I had a romance with the weight room. I was right, indeed, we were two of their favorites, asked us to strip right there for a closer look/see. Jim froze when Angelo put his balls in his hand and began to explain how there were particularly good, right shape, one was longer than the other, good "hang appeal", they commented that if he wanted to make some extra cash, to give them a ring. I wasn't quite as favored but they like my thick, meaty-their word-body and how hairy I was. There were one or two that I knew, absolutely knew, wouldn't pay a dime to see an ant eat a bale of hay and wouldn't allow anyone to see any part of their body nude unless the part was coming out of a hole in a shirt. Ring up no sale.

They left and we were shaken. The "suggestions" that had been made as to how to photograph some of what might become former friends wasn't what we had in mind and were certain the golf team in Kansas never even considered that. My roomie was out for the weekend so we grabbed a six pack-promising to repay the owner at another time-and locked ourselves in my room. First order of business was to chug two beers just to settle our nerves.

"How far would you go?"
"Oh, Christ, I'm no prude, you know me.....letting a little skin show has never been a problem. Remember homecoming?" Another incident that almost got us kicked off campus. Every street facing window was filled with a naked ass mooning passers by. As the Dean said, it was lucky no one had a tattoo "back there" so they could be identified. He wasn't quite correct but the butt cheek with the hand giving the finger had been covered over with makeup. The Dean continued on about our grades, filth, complaints about numerous thing including one female faculty member who said one of us had, behind a book, masturbated. I thought I knew who but didn't press the issue. Indeed when we were let go, we headed straight for  a bar where our age wasn't too much of a concern but the drinks were potent even to the point of having one check into the no tell motel next door-sleeping in your clothes to avoid the other room mates you might have.

"You ever done anything with another man besides get drunk?"
I squirmed a bit. "Oh, you know, when we were kids, we bet each other weird things, someone bet me that I wouldn't put my mouth over his cock and....I did it. We were kids, his cock, as I had remember, we had to look for it. Hope it got bigger as time went on. What about you?"
I could tell Jim was uneasy with this question but, since I'd revealed my "experience" he felt the necessity to do also. "When I was pledged, Jesus that seems a long time ago, they stuck a dildo up my ass then made me run around the house....."
"I must have joined a year too late."
"That was the last year.....some jerk got something the size of a tree limb and the pledge bled.....it was a mess and, once again..."
"The Dean"
"Glad I wasn't President then. He was excoriated, almost thrown out of school and the kid's parents sued which national settled out of court then made us pay it back."

"I guess we're evading the question, how far would you go. In front of a camera."
We were both silent, with only one beer left, contemplation would have to be un greased by liquor."
"Depend on who it was, what they wanted me to do, shit like that."
"Me, full frontal, blow me until I spit sperm all over you."
"Would you let me do that to you?"
I hopped out of the upper bunk, tore off his blanket to reveal a hard pecker and a hand on it that wasn't looking for acne. Why wait?

His cock was good sized and almost collapsed when I leaned over and grabbed it with my lips. I had never given a blow job but thought that blowing got you nowhere so I sucked and took as much of him in me as I could. He was loaded and shot within less than two minutes.

"Your turn." I grabbed a chair, turned it around, sat down and stuck my cock between the uprights, Jim surveyed it, looked at me and, finally, eased on to the floor which put him at mouth level to my stiffening meat. He stared at it for a long time then slowly moved in, tongue first and returned the suck job. 

"I hope yours felt as good as mine."
Cum was drooling from the side of his mouth. There was a stupid grin on his face. " Know what a 69 is? When two guys suck each other at the same time?"
I admitted I'd heard of it.
"Well, why don't we give everything a time to rest and see how that works in practice. Other than fucking each other, not much left to do. Would I want to see it in a photograph?" He didn't finish his thought but he had introduced something else that the brothers had lots of pictures of; One guy sticking it to another, fucking their ass, laying on top of them, hands under their chest doing....whatever."

"Uh, while we're waiting we could try some of the positions, no, uh, entry, just see how it sorta felt."
"We either do it all the way or we don't. We're gonna have to sell this and if we can't say we haven't done and wouldn't do it, then...."
"I guess....." But there was no enthusiasm.
"Look, this may be the best idea anyone here ever had. It's a money maker right out of the box and all we need is for some guys to lose their inhibition and just do it."
"Fuck each other? Lick some bodies dick? How are you, okay, we going to explain that? "
"First, we don't tell everybody the same thing at the same time. We know these guys, some of them are almost exhibitionists now.
"Remember Rog at the wedding? Great looking tuxedo. Not to mention the bow tie he had on his cock and balls which were left outside his pants. And there are more."
"But to do this."
"Jesus, keep looking for black clouds on silver linings and we'll never make a dime now get over here and stick you dick in my ass."

A few days later we made an appointment with Michelangelo to get some test shots made. Those tests were going to be of Jim, me and Rog who salivated at the idea. We told him he'd get fucked but his head just waggled like those figures, usually of hula girls, on the package shelf in a car. We told him he'd have to swallow sperm. Lit him up like a hooker just given an Amex Black Card. And, on his suggestion, we also included Stefan, our exchange student who had the biggest meat in the house. It was suggested we stay overnight so we could see the results the next day and, perhaps, set up a date for a major shoot. Jim suggested four rooms, Rog suggested two rooms each with a king size bed. The brothers told us not to bother with things like toys (?) or condoms as they were well supplied. Also, they had some skimpy swimming suits and a pool that was very secluded. 

What we knew but never thought much about was that Stefan was from the Netherlands where sexual liberation was everywhere. As casually as making a list for groceries, he sat in the back seat and recalled some of his adventures in Amsterdam and a few other cities in Europe. Roger, hearing some of this, almost drove us off the road so often, I took over. Just as well, released from the wheel he opened his pants, pulled out his meat and jerked it off. Stefan, who was sitting next to him, leaned over just in time to catch the climax and spare sperm being all over Rog's pants. Jim and I just looked at each other.

I don't know precisely what we were expecting the "Michelangelo" studio to look like. Definitely not a well maintained store front in a strip mall but also not a three story house built before the turn of the twentieth century. What had been on one side had been torn down and the other side was fenced off to the point that whatever was there, was unseen.

First things first, they had us strip and handed each of us one of their skimpy bathing suits. With luck I got my genitals completely in it but the effect was that I had hidden a piece of sewage pipe and some ball bearings in my costume. (Had to be a costume, no man in his right man would appear in public wearing one of these unless they planned on removing them as they were destined for a nude beach.)
Each of us got a different version of a bikini-Jim's had his ass and front covered but the sides were missing. Stefan had a string that held a bag that held his genitals. And Roger, some sort of "sock" that held only his cock and balls and was tied with contrasting cord. The brothers told us that his could be used to really tie off the balls to the point where they'd die. Just for informational purposes,, they said many animals were castrated that way. 

The studio, mercifully heated, consisted of a very large room filled with lighting fixtures plus some solid shapes on which one could sit or recline or put a foot up. Or on the longer ones get fucked. I suggested that they start with Rog and Stefan as Stefan was packing the most meat. One look and they agreed. The next hour we spent watching our two fraternity brothers play with themselves, play with each other, use toys, which proved to be dildos and some bondage gear, jerk off, eat each others ass.....just a regular day at the fraternity. 

And then it was our turn. No two people ever took longer to remove a spandex table napkin than we did. The new addition for us, possibly to conceal our lesser assets than the first two, was a nice coating of oil and three blue pills. Surely I thought, surely no one would give us pills used to correct erectile dysfunction but....that's what they'd done. I was so hard it was almost painful and, when I slid into Jim, our first photographic assignment, I bottomed out and could feel his prostate which I played like a Marimba. Jim, too, was ready for more than action but we me implanted in him, wasn't much for him to do but a humble hand job. Well, three of them. He was yelping with pain between jerks but, I hoped, it was the sort of pain that led to pleasure.

With me still aboard they rearranged our positions for better, I don't know, maybe shadows and light? If Jim was bursting on the outside, I was in, sorry, deep trouble in him. His muscle ring that controlled the comings and goings out his butt had clung to my dick and was milking it. We couldn't quite get it to go at the same time but, I don't know, they didn't let me wear a watch, it must have been close to an hour before I could withdraw and we both collapsed. Appreciative from all round.

One of the brothers announced that it was time for the gang bang shots and, to do that, we were all oiled, or re-oiled with Jim and me. The idea here was to do a sort of free for all whatever we wanted to do. Someone should always be fucking while the person being fucked could give a blow job to someone else. The brothers, our directors, would dash in when the cameras were turned the other way and put us in ever differing poses. A major problem was that none of us were really sexually attracted to anyone in the room although, by that point, there was no doubt in my mind that having a fuck buddy, on the side, was a really good idea.

By now we were getting limp and limp and porn are not a winning combination. Then it was time for solos. For the love of God, we didn't have to jerk off, but seated, standing reclining our pictures were made, clutching our balls, tweaking our nipples, playing with our cocks, sticking a finger up our staff. You know, the routine shot.. 

"That's it for now, showers to get the oil off then if you want, there's a pool, good day to work on a sun tan." At least shedding the oil was a welcome idea. So was the shower. Whatever else they did, it was a shower that make ordinary locker rooms look, well, ordinary. All white tile, lots of towels, a vanity covered with disposable razors, several types of shaving cream, pair of toilets and, something I'd almost wanted, a standing urinal Out a frosted glass door was a large above-the-ground pool surrounded by a deck, sun chairs, floats for the pool. With no instruction, I could see this as another "set" for a shoot. (I was right, one of the brothers suggested that the showers could be used for a "soap and stroke" scene, just like back at the fraternity. Maybe someone's idea of a frat house shower, just not ours.

We did get a good two hours rest covered with tanning fluid so full of ray reflector no chance of burn. 

A brother came out and got Jim. He looked at me and shrugged. Half an hour later we all reassembled in the shower to find Jim now sporting a full eagle tattoo on his chest, some sort of tribal swirling on his leg and a star over each breast.

"Really look great, don't they. Took us awhile to find a place that made this quality. This isn't paper, this is a sort of nylon fiber impregnated with ink. Presto, instant tattoo. It didn't look bad, but it didn't seem quite right on him. Maybe if he'd wanted it.....

That was for him. On a metal table, covered with a cloth was what we were going to get. There were four syringes and one vial of...whatever. "Okay, gents, step up and find a new way to harden up. 

Not everyone like needles and the thought of plunging a needle into your cock caused shuddering. We were spared do-it-yourself time. One of them gloved up, picked up the first syringe, upended it, filled the barrel, took a good sturdy hold on the pecker and stuck it in. 

It didn't hurt but the results were quick and dramatic. I could almost feel the skin pulling away, almost tearing the skin. I'd had hard ons, really good ones but this was the boner from heaven or hell. The guys around me were in similar silence and awe. The brothers who'd seen this "miracle" before hustled us on to the patio surrounding the pool. Hard not to notice that on one wall weren't pool cleaning equipment but manacles, chains, metal masks, some metal "suits" that would hurt if applied to one. And, one last thing, a miniature guillotine, just right for chopping off fingers or....cocks. 

In fact, a part from hard ons that would not go away and were always being milked, it was an easier time than this morning. I'm no connoisseur of being fucked, but a really hard cock beats a dildo any day. And that includes the one used on me that was made like a mans arm with a fist at the end. Actually, the pictures in the sun, regardless of us as the subject matter, seemed to have some quality. Nothing even vaguely related to fraternity life but we were far, far from that by now.

Next day after an agonizing night, both front and back, we were back at Michelangelo to see the results. The brothers seemed really keen on his as they opened the 8 by 10 photo album filled with us.  I'll say this, they were good photographers who had a real ability with naked men. That we were the naked men, by now, didn't seem to matter much. We sat there, expressionless as they lyricized over the work, the quality of their work and, as a sop to us, some compliments to us about our bodies and how cooperative we'd been. 

As agreed, we handed them a grand, picked up the copy for us and headed home. 

We through Jim's roomie out as we needed the space to pace, talk and just think what the hell we were going to do. Would it sell? Yes. Could we make a lot of money, yes. Could we explain this to the brothers.....that's what kept us pacing. There were already four of us and, from we'd been told, another four more would be adequate. What we needed was to carefully, oh so carefully,  find the final four.

We bought a lot of beer and, one at a time, brought in our picks. We didn't right away get to our prime purpose but rather made sure the beer was passed until they showed signs of not being resistant and then we showed them the book.

It wasn't easy  and we probably underplayed what really might happen, even with the book in front of them, knowing, we hoped, what they were agreeing to, they signed. For our own reasons we'd had a sort of informal agreement that held us harmless, promised them a place in whatever publicity we did, agreeing that they were doing this of their own free will and fully understood what they were agreeing to do. Would it have stood up in court? Probably not but it did suggest that no one did anything against their will.

One other business deal we'd made with Michelangelo was that, just to keep everything clean and above board, we retained an account to whom all payments went. The brothers got their share and Jim and I left it in an account in a bank with very little interest but protected
from all who had no claim on it. Each of the brothers received a flat fee, a thousand dollars and relinquished all other funds which were going to the charity. The charity agreed to take a very small percentage-more than they were getting anyway and that took care of the financial's.

We took two cars this time, Jim and I each drove one and kept the mood light, wanted them to be excited, enthusiastic, hardly wait to get there. And then we arrived. They knew they would have to strip so that came as no surprise but everything else was. The first time a brother, as instructed, stuck his greased finger up a hole, there was a certain shock. Sucking cock.....maybe a bit easier as every kid had some sort of minor to stupid sex play in their past. All things went pretty well, Jim and I got into it as 'seasoned veterans' who could show them what and how to do things. This time, we started with the injection which raised their cocks and also their confidence in themselves. We oiled a couple of them and told them about wrestling which they did pretty well. Their bodies shined and as they were able to settle in to fucking and sucking, it was something that might have happened in a fraternity. Might have, I want to stress that.

Time for a rest and to led the limbs turn back to twigs. But surprise for us, the brothers increased the dosage for that afternoon which not only straightened things out, but gave them a higher urge to have sex of whatever variety. This time the brothers got out some of the manacles, the ropes, and let them find out what it was like to not really be able to move butt desperately want to work your dick. I was tempted to see if we could add a little whipping, fraternity initiation, but that went against me. 

In short the day went very well, we took them out to a good dinner, plunked them in their beds while Jim and I went back to our room and fucked.

We timed publication of the book around graduation thinking if things got too grim, we'd at least get degrees. We underestimated the trouble by a factor of ten. All sorts of people showed up bearing summons, writs, no knock warrants to search the place...

Jim and I were hiding out across the state line under the guise of two brothers from Juneau. It wasn't hard to know what was going on, we called Roger who was a kind of ally, and he filled us in. The one thing he stressed was we needed an attorney and fast. What college student keeps a lawyer on retainer? But we had to turn to someone however grim the consequences.

The Dean looked a cross between infuriated and half amused. We'd finally done it, gone too far, sullied not only our chapter but, and I quote, 'The whole fucking school'. First things first. We were not to receive our degrees, we were permanently banned from the campus, he would send a personal letter to every other school at which we might apply stating that if they even considered taking us-we'd never made it on grades anyway-he would personally send them a copy of The Book which would illustrate his point. The Dean was a little behind the crest of the way; Every morning, afternoon and night time talk show had mentioned it and showed it, at least the part they could show. 

After enjoying fricasseeing us, he did get down to the problems-he was after all an attorney. First, however distasteful and vulgar he found it, we hadn't broken any law. No one in it was under 18 plus we had documentation as to their willingness to participate. We had a valid charity to whom we were making donations-he either didn't know or care about the amount. Forget the parents many of whom had come to the campus for a public lynching of us. They needed to remember that their child was not a little boy-as was so vividly illustrated-and they could threaten every thing and actually do nothing. And then....

"If it were in my power, I'd have the two of you locked in stocks with your heads, hands and penises available for anyone who wished to spit on you while a big, hot fire was prepared. These fires would heat the large brands that would be applied to your asses. But I can't do that....so just get the fuck off the campus. If you're not gone in ten minutes I'll have the campus police arrest you for loitering as well as lewd and lascivious behavior."

A couple of days later Jim and I were rolling West on I-70 headed for San Francisco. We'd been told, by the brothers, that there was a good market for guys who were interested in various acts of show business. Even wrote a letter to several of them. Nice of them.

As Jim looked out the window of the large Mercedes he looked at me and said, "Nice of them to let us keep the money".

For those who may wonder about the college golf team in Kansas, you may wish to look into the Bethany College Golf team and the nude picture with golf clubs.