It was tactically hopeless: despite his high ground (on top of Nathan's bunk) Zac was well and truly surrounded by his "Comrades", Gareth heading them up armed with the heaviest un-fluffable school pillow he could find.

"Hanson the Bad - DO YOU SURRENDER?"

"HELL NO!"

"THEN DIE!!" yelled Gareth, hurling the Pillow from Hell at Zac, causing him to fall back onto the bunk. Whilst he was incapacitated, Gareth clambered up on to the top bunk with Zac and pinned him down using as much of his body as was physically possible.

"NOW do you surrender?"

"Why don't you play 'hide and go fuck yourself'?"

Gareth grinned and pressed down harder on top of Zac, emphasising each word with a little bounce of his body.

"DO YOU SURRENDER?"

"Fucking EAT ME!" yelled Zac, laughing uncontrollably.

Gareth tried again, his bounces this time a little more pronounced.

"DO YOU SURR..." He was cut short by a rather impressively loud cracking sound from the bunk, and a second later, the head-end of the upper tier dropped through the frame onto the one below, Zac and Gareth ending up in a ball of flailing limbs, laughing their arses off along with the rest of the dorm. At least they were until Russell came bursting into the room intent on inflicting some mental pain and anguish.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled.

"Hiya Dave!" giggled Zac from underneath Gareth. "I, uh, think you need to get this bed repaired! In fact, you may as well do, like, all of 'em coz it sounds like a set of crickets in here when we're all beating off..."

Russell was, once again, shocked, angry and astounded by the remarks that flowed from Zac's mouth. A myriad of images raced before his mind, including one that briefly showed him a naked Zac, legs spread, right hand wrapped around 5 inches of slender hardon with his back arching almost painfully upwards as if trying to meet his impending climax...

This scared Russell. In fact, it scared him so much he simply turned and walked briskly out of the room. Zac was actually rather disappointed by this as he had been mentally preparing a barrage of insulting and belittling quips to hurl at him when the anticipated temper tantrum erupted. This actually worried Zac as, from what Gareth had said, the guy NEVER backed down unless he was hopelessly beaten, and even then reluctantly.

Zac untangled himself from a still-giggling Gareth and headed for the door after Russell.

"Whe're'ya goin'?"

"To see 'him' - keep the bed warm," grinned Zac, and walked off down the corridor.

Gingerly, Zac rapped his knuckles against the white, gloss-painted wooden door that lead to Russell's part of the house. No answer. He tried again, and after a half-minute or so, there came a very turse "WHAT?"

Zac took a deep breath and lifted the wrought iron latch, the un- oiled hinges complaining as the door opened. He was presented with Russell's kitchen, and his first impressions were that it had been vacated it was so bare, but as he looked around under the sterile fluorescent light, he realised it was used, but was also kept immaculately tidy.

In the centre of the creme-tiled floor was a white-topped oak table with a single, solitary chair. In the chair sat Russell, who was staring absent-mindedly at a picture frame that had been placed exactly on the table's centre.

"Uhh, Da.. I mean Mr. Russell? Sir?"

"What do you want," he snarled, Zac not being important enough to warrant a glance of any kind, never mind a death stare.

Zac decided to take a slightly less direct route than the one he'd originally anticipated and began to walk towards the table. "Who's in the picture?"

Russell snatched the frame off the table in an attempt to hide it, but Zac simply reached out and pulled it away from him slightly. Surprisingly, Russell relinquished once more, allowing Zac to see the photo. In it was a middle-aged woman who was "pleasant" to Zac's eye (good-looking not usually a term he applied to the opposite sex) and a boy about his age who, despite having a fairly sharp, angular look to his face, was fairly good looking.

Russell set the photo back down on the table and continued to stare at it.

"Who are they?" asked Zac tentatively. No response. "Sir?"

"That's my wife May and my son, Jacob."

"Woah! You're married?"

"I was..."

"Oh... uh... sorry. What happened to them?"

"She left me. Or rather we left each other."

"Where's Jake now?"

"He was killed not long after this was taken." Russell's harsh voice had begun to mellow somehow. "A car hit him when he was riding his bicycle."

Zac was stunned. "Shit... Uh, sorry, man... I mean sir..."

Russell failed to notice Zac's choice of words completely and sighed.

"I don't have a single picture of us all together, you know. It was either him and her, me and him or her and him."

Nothing was said for a few moments as Zac just stared with Russell at the photo.

"Where is your wife now?"

"I'm not sure. The last time we saw each other was at the funeral. We didn't speak a lot, but I suppose we each blamed the other for not looking after Jake, or not spending enough time with Jake... It was difficult - we are both teachers, and you just CAN'T show favoritism towards a pupil, even if he IS your own son... In hindsight I think I was over-hard on him."

"He's kinda cute..." grinned Zac, then realising what he'd said, added " Uhh - for a guy, that is..."

"He was the year's heart throb," he agreed, a thin smile briefly appearing on his face. "All the girls were after him, and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the boys were, either... I never really told him I loved him. In fact, I was a complete bastard to him. Not just in school time either - for some reason I kept it up right the way through the school holidays too...

"May told me to ease off on him, but I just kept the pressure turned up - he was my boy, and it 'simply wouldn't do' if he didn't live up not just to my expectations, but to the rest of the staff's also. May got so fed up with this, that she just packed and went to her father's farm in Wales with him.

"'Why didn't you just let him be a normal boy, David?' she asked at the funeral. Those were the last words she said to me. I still don't know why I didn't."

"It's, like, the only way you knew, sir. You were just wanting him to do well."

"It wasn't that. It was me being selfish. I wanted Jake to do well so that I would be seen as a good father and a good teacher. Yes, I wanted him to do well for himself, but it was more for my benefit. I felt like I couldn't cope with having a son that performed anything less than 110%."

"Nobody would have cared, sir. He was himself - if he was a dumb fu... err... if he was dumb, he was dumb - no one would have minded! It wouldn't have been your fault..."

"I realise that NOW..." he said, turning to look upon Zac for the first time. He saw his concerned look, and smiled that thin smile again. "Let me get you a chair."

He stood up and strode out of the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with what looked like the matching partner to the one Russell had been sitting on.

"Soooo..." said Russell, sitting down next to Zac. "To what do I owe the reprieve?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly being so amiable?"

"Oh... Well you looked kinda upset... I was only being such a shit because you were to me! What goes around..."

"It's the only way the boys will respect me."

"RESPECT? You think they respect you? They're scared shitless of you! They hate your guts, man!"

Russell looked quite surprised. He sincerely thought he was 'commanding respect'...

"Try being a bit more reasonable - explain why you do things the way you do, and LISTEN to what they have to say."

"I shouldn't have to explain myself to them!"

"Why not?"

"I just... Well.... I just shouldn't have to."

"Says who?"

"Well, I never used to have to..."

"When did you start teaching?"

"1962."

"Thirty-six years ago - that's a long time you know, sir... Things have changed just a tinsey bit! Try it - try explaining why you're punishing someone, why you're not letting them do something - REASON with them! ASK them to do things rather than just barking orders all the time."

"But they won't do what I ask..."

"They will if you give them incentives to do things - encourage them - get them to WANT to try and please you. I'll help if ya want..."

"How?"

"I'll behave."

Russell laughed out loud.

"I will!"

"Zachary, I hav..."

"Zac."

"All right, Zac - I haven't known you for very long, but I'm fairly certain that the term 'good behavior' doesn't exist in your vocabulary!"

"OK - so I'm lousy at spelling, but I can behave - as long as you keep your end of the bargain..."

"I'll try..."

"Nuh huh - trying isn't good enough!"

"OK - I will keep my end of the bargain to see how it goes. This is going to be strange for me."

Zac smiled. "It is for me too! Me? Be good? I've... um... got an idea to help us get going." Russell raised an eyebrow. "Do you got a REALLY heavy pillow?"

Ike wearily stepped out of the taxi infront of his boarding (or was that boring?) house. He trudged up to the door and half-heartedly pressed the bell push, shivering as the cold wind was pronounced by his physical state.

The curtain of the TV room was pulled back, one of the lads seeing Ike and opening the door for him. They exchanged customary "hello" smiles and immediately went their separate ways - the guy who'd opened the door went back to lounging infront of the TV, Ike upstairs to his dorm. He flopped onto his bed, quickly falling asleep as his indifferent mood could think of nothing better to do.

"Go on, Tay!"

"Yeah, tell us!"

"I'd bore you guys to death! You got far more interesting shit to talk about!"

"Like hell we have! You're a superstar, man! WE'RE NOT WORTHY!!"

Tay smiled that wonderful 'I don't wanna' shy smile of his and reluctantly answered "OK, OK - so whaddya wanna know?"

Assorted questions about what it was like being famous, permanently on the move and lusted after by a few thousand girls all under the same roof followed, Tay actually quite enjoying being able to talk perfectly freely about what he thought.

"Ya know how we always say we love the fans and shit? THEY MAKE MY LIFE HELL! Sure they buy our records, but hell they also STEAL from us! Would you believe some jerkoff stole our goddamn lawn mower just because it was ours and I _MAY_ have touched the handles? Why can't they just leave us alone!"

The conversation then swung to the plus sides of touring, and eventually came to England's green and pleasant land. Throughout all this, Tony had sat cross-legged, his ear latching onto every word Tay uttered as if his life depended on it. When there was a lull in the conversation, he asked the question he'd obviously wanted to ask for some time.

"How did you actually meet Dean?"

We looked at each other and grinned, flashbacks of a rather steamy night in a certain theme park hotel giving us immediate hard-ons that didn't go un-noticed by the other three.

"So it was like THAT was it?" grinned Jamie. "SAY NO MORE!"

"Well, I did manage to get Tay's trousers off of him in a public place."

"You WHAT?"

"Dilweed here managed to pour steaming hot tea in my lap. We were on that Eurostar thing and I was just like kickin' back trying to ignore my bodyguard's snoring. Then Dean walks by and I'm kinda like 'woah - that guy is hot!' but the fucker walks straight by me! I took my shades off to try and catch his eye, and I guess it kinda worked!"

"Now THAT is cool," smiled Triv "but how did you DE-BAG HIM, Dean?"

"As far as I can remember I asked for his autograph and I didn't have anything one me 'cept for a couple of napkins... I tried to pull one out of my hand and managed to pull me Dad's cup of tea out with it!"

"It didn't really hurt that much ya know - I just wanted to give him a memory he wouldn't forget too quick! The coolest bit was when he offered to give me a pair of his shorts - damn he was so kind... I accepted and in the hotel that night in Paris? I didn't have a whole lot to do, so I... ummm... kinda jerked off in them thinking about Dean. Then I sent 'em back to him!"

"You did WHAT?"

"I packaged them up a couple of days later after another few rounds and sent them back to him... I just wish I coulda seen his face!"

"As far as I can remember it looked something like this," I said, screwing my face in feigned orgasm as I yanked on an imaginary dick.

We all dissolved into terminal fits of laughter for no real reason - it just felt so good to be among friends with everyone having fun at no-one else's expense - not a word of malice had been uttered all evening. It was so refreshing, ya know?

"I dunno about you guys but I'm gonna hit the sack... I'm fucked!" announced Jamie.

"You soon will be," smiled Triv and, so saying, dragged him off into the two man tent.

"I'm gonna take a shower," said Tony, picking up his wash kit. "See ya in a bit..."

"And then there were two..."

Tay stood up and held out his hand. I took it, the strength behind it seeming to contradict his almost delicate physical appearance. Damn he was so... so... It was useless my mind trying to strive for a mortal word to describe him. Everything about him seemed so ethereal, so superior yet at the same time so real, so tangible - almost as if he were a metaphor for all things that were good.

We started to walk along the path that skirted the campsite.

"Three weeks," I said.

"I know..."

"What are we gonna..."

"I don't know. Flying you over won't be a problem... But that's hardly fair on your folks..."

"I never want this to end, Tay..."

He stopped and we turned to face each other. His unwashed hair had become slightly greasy and straggly, but it simply endeared him more to me. The swooping lines that hinted at his cheek bones, his dark, defined eyebrows, his infinite eyes....

"It won't, Dean, it won't... Out of the billions of souls on this planet we are two, and we met. There's fate and then there's destiny. Fate brought us together, but destiny will keep us that way. Trust me, I know..."

How did he? How did he know? "You can't say that, Tay..."

"I just did. And I believe it too - I know it sounds kinda corny and "moviefied", but think about it, Dean: So was the way we met!"

He did have a point, and just the way he said it began to make my apprehensions far less real to me. OK, so we lived on different continents but hell, it were only six hours away! Dammit it took that long to get to Scotland!

"I dunno where I'd get the money for the flights from,"

"Dean you're such a freak sometimes! I'd fly you over!"

"Yeah but... but... I'd feel guilty knowing you were blowing all your money on me..."

Tay took a step forward and hugged me tightly. "I'd get rid of everything I had if it meant I could be with you for just a minute," he whispered into my ear. "You have to remember that the money is just a nice side effect of a lot of people enjoying the music we make!"

We released each other and he smiled at me. "Forget about 'three weeks' for now... How about we go take a shower with Tony? My hair looks like it's been used in one of your chippies!"

I reckon Tony thought we'd followed Jamie and Triv's example, as when we walked into the shower room he must've leapt a good foot into the air, quickly spinning round to face the wall and looking guilty as sin as he stuttered "H... Hi, guys..."

Tay and I looked at each other and smiled broadly.

"Hey Tony," Tay grinned. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm taking a shower. Ain't that kinda obvious?"

"Uh, well, it would be if the water was running..."

Tony, already ruby red, now turned a vivid beetroot colour.

"I'm not gonna get out of this one am I?"

"Nuh uh..."

"Well, umm.... D'you want to give us a hand?" he asked, turning round to reveal was, to my mind, the biggest hard-on I could ever recall having seen. Tony must've had two inches on us at least, and that were probably a rather conservative estimate!

Sticking out at a perfect forty-five decree angle from Tony's crotch were 8 inches of die-straight, throbbing, circumcised meat, complimented by a set of bollocks that looked like they could give you a bruise should they swing in your direction.

"FUCK!" was the only thing Tay and I could honestly think of saying as we scrutinised this text book example of male genitalia. Tony's embarrassed grin turned to one of slight concern.

"What? Woss wrong?"

"Uh, nothing Spidey - it's just that... umm..."

"WHAT?"

"IT'S SO DAMN BIG!"

Tony's look of concern immediately turned into one of immense pride. "Ya think?"

"I know!"

"Tay - do you want the honour or..."

Tay shoved a hand (with difficulty due to the large tent that had formed in the front of his trousers) into his pocket and retrieved a fifty pence piece. "Heads for head, tales for balls - your call?"

"Sounds good to me!"

Tay flipped the silver coin into the air and deftly caught it, flipped it over and placed it on the back of his hand.

"Heads."

Tay lifted his hand away, revealing a tail.

"Haha! Bollocks to you, man!"

Tay and I hurriedly pulled off our clothes, the sight of which obviously pleased Tony - his hardon throbbing and bouncing as even more blood was forced into it. Tony was visibly shaking as Tay and I approached him, hardons bobbing infront of us. Tay stood directly infront of him so that the tip of his hardon touched Tony's, causing another flurry of jerks and spasms. He smiled his wicked, sex driven grin.

"Just relax and enjoy it..." and with that, Tay stooped down and began coating the monster cock in liberal quantities of his saliva. I too squatted down next to Tay and began to tongue-bathe his heavy, hairy bollocks, occasionally straying up his shaft to get a taste of Tay's sweet saliva mixed in with Tony's incredibly erotic, slightly sharp aroma that seemed noticeably 'heavier' than Tay's light, delicate, almost fruity one.

As I strayed up into cock territory once again, I met Tay's tongue on the way to sample Tony's hangers. The moment they touched it seemed like an electric current passed through us. Our tongues went into overtime as they slid over Tony's cock, bashing into and pushing past one another in an aimless motion that seemed to send Tony to the next level of pleasure. Gradually, we moved up his eight inch length to his flared head, our lips meeting and creating an airtight seal around one of the most sensitive organs in his entire body.

We sucked and slurped away as our tongues pushed over the head and onto each other's mouths, its jerking becoming more and more pronounced. Our hands were roaming over any bare flesh within reach, indifferent to who any particular body part belonged to as long as it was soft and warm: stroking, squeezing, rubbing and massaging, taking us all into a friensied sexual state that none of us had ever experienced before, least so Tony. Granted it was nowhere near as fulfilling as making one-on-one love with Tay alone, but the thought of initiating Tony to the pleasures of gay sex introduced an exciting sense of satisfaction in that we could pass this simple gift of pleasure to Tony.

Then it happened. With a groan that practically shook our rib cages, Mount Spider erupted with a force unparalleled by anything in the Animal Kingdom. Tony's initial copious jet of cum broke through our lips, curling round onto our cheeks and dripping down onto the floor. Two eager tongues attempted to harvest all of the seed that was produced, but the crop was good: the first blast was succeeded by a further four, all of similar quantity but progressively less intense, the final spurt dribbling into our mouths.

Tony now looked physically exhausted, but had a dreamy, spaced-out smile on his face that can only be produced when you've gotten off good and proper.

His state of bliss was only momentary, however, as we heard a pair of voices that weren't Jamie and Triv's approaching the showers. In a panic, we all dived for our respective clothes that seemed to have rearranged themselves whilst we weren't watching in order to preserve what little modesty we had. The owner of one of the voices came right to the door, still talking to his friend, but thankfully they decided to visit the shop first before taking their showers, not knowing what time it stayed open to.

Tay, Spider and I looked at each other and burst out laughing: From the way we were dressed, even the most innocent of minds would have been easily able to decide what we had been doing.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Go for it, Tony..."

"How about we actually lock the door next time?"

"And just exactly how do you now there will BE a net time, Mr. 'I've got a redwood between my legs'?"

"Uh... I... I didn't mean it like that," grinned Tony awkwardly

"But you're right, we will lock it next time!"


On to Chapter Twenty-One

Back to Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Index

Dean Lidster Home Page

Email the Author - dean@meta4.org

The Exchange is © 1999 by Dean Lidster. This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer