Disclaimer: They still don't belong to me, and never have. They just get up to naughty things and then tell me about them later.
Summary: Ezra, Buck/JD. This story will make much more sense if you read Laying Blame first. It's that story from others' points of view, since I received so much positive feedback. I was asked repeatedly to give more detail on what was happening between Buck and JD - so here it is. And a lot of Ezra, thus the title. I do love that man. Alternate title could have been "Laying Plans" but I chose this one instead.
No warnings: Who knew Buck was such a gentle soul?
Feedback: By all means.
Back to: Laying Blame
Far be it from me to ever orchestrate, maneuver, manipulate, or otherwise interfere in the lives of my friends, but - and there is always a but, in every assertion of fact or conviction there is always a caveat, and who am I kidding really, I can out-manipulate the devil - I do believe it is high time someone did something for the two of them.
And I am, after all, me.
I have seen the way they eye one another when they think no one is watching, especially the recipients of said surreptitious glances. They should know by now that someone is always watching. I have not become who I am today, though I say that with no small amount of chagrin under normal circumstances, without being able to read everyone and everything in a room. Granted, Mr. Tanner does not go to any great lengths to disguise what he is thinking or feeling at any given moment. He just isn't inclined to be vocally forthcoming. Even so, he is a damn sight more loquacious than the surly object of his secret affections, his best friend, our boss, Mr. Larabee. I have seen steel girders more flexible, and a chunk of coal more emotionally accessible, to quote Mr. Sanchez. Although even coal, given enough time, becomes a diamond. Time will tell.
Men have tells. Although whereas I suppose I have always fancied life to be one large game of roulette rather than poker, nonetheless, the analogy is correct. Look at that. I used two prepositions in one sentence, to begin one sentence. What has happened to my grammar? No doubt polluted and desecrated by associating with these scoundrels.
But I digress.
In a game of poker, as in life, men have tells. It is a well-known fact that Mr. Tanner no longer needs that much help writing his reports. He has progressed a remarkable distance in overcoming his peculiar disability, not that it ever prevented him from doing anything he set his keen little mind to doing, but he does not actually need Mr. Larabee's assistance as often as he pretends. And yet, he asks daily, sometimes several times daily, for help. Not from me, the man who sits next to him, and knows far more about the rules of the English language - although Buck would faint to discover that there are rules - but from Mr. Larabee. I see the way his entire face lights up when his name is called, for good or ill, and he must mosey, yes the man does mosey, into the office of doom to be greeted by the glare of all glares. I do believe that Mr. Larabee has two facial expressions: incensed and horny. Good gracious I just used the word horny. Nevertheless, it is this particular, distinct expression of arousal that I see painted all over the gruff countenance of our commander in chief directly following each and every one of these visits Mr. Tanner pays him.
And without fail, Mr. Larabee has to adjust himself behind his desk. Tsk, tsk. One of these days, I swear, and merely because I enjoy the study of human nature every bit as much as Mr. Sanchez, I should bring the poor, suffering man a towel, a small tube of lubricant, close his office blinds, and shut his door. He would, then, promptly shoot me. But, oh, it would be worth it just to witness the look on his face.
So, and one must forgive my egregiously lengthy preamble, this evening after work, we have all been invited to join Mr. Wilmington at the lake. And, God bless him, Mr. Tanner announced to one and all that he used to swim in the nude. I can picture this. Not a bad mental image, if I do say so myself. Vin possess an understated but undeniable confidence in all he does, so it does not surprise me in the least that he should greet all of nature's glory in all of his. He embraces all of life with a similarly unfettered - I would almost say heedlessness, but it more closely resembles - joy. Not that I have any acquaintance with the sentiment.
He is also the most stubborn man of my acquaintance, save perhaps myself, although I prefer to think of myself as steadfast. Uncompromising even, though that would be a stretch. Unremitting? Perhaps. Certainly unrepentant.
Where was I?
Ah, yes. Therefore I could hardly shirk my duties as the self-proclaimed and self-made gambler of the group if I did not lay bets as to which of these foolhardy miscreants would be the first to divest themselves of their clothing upon arriving at our destination. I bet Mr. Wilmington that our young Mr. Dunne would not be caught dead swimming in the nude. Granted, it would be difficult to swim while deceased, but Mr. Dunne accepted the challenge and bet me that he could, and I quote, get naked faster than Buck. Even though the older man has had far more experience in this matter, consummate rogue that he is, I must applaud Mr. Dunne for his audacity, not that I ever presumed he was lacking in impudence.
Let our petulant superior and the smitten sharpshooter blame me later, but I have a plan. To be fair, and one must always at least attempt to be fair, Mr. Wilmington and I have a plan. The rough outline of this plan is to, as the inimitable Mr. Wilmington puts it, 'get the two idjuts nekked 'n alone and let nature take her course.'
After all, men will never fail to do what it is in their nature to do. And, though I do despise repeating myself, I am, after all, me. So this will work.
Hot damn! I hope this works. It had better work. 'Tween the two of 'em they're more stubborn than death, and more repressed than a couple a monks in a brothel. I should know.
See, I've known Chris more years than I care to think about and I know those looks he gets, the ones he doesn't try to get and pretends he ain't gettin'. Those looks he use'ta get when he was watchin' Sarah, God rest her soul. He may not know what to do with the feelins he's got, but I sure as hell do. They're the kinda feelins that if ya don't act on 'em, they leave ya jacking off on your couch all night. And I should know that too. 'Cept that I live with JD, and as much as I'd like it ta be otherwise, I can't exactly jack off on our couch. Though I'd like to. With him watching. Or participating. Or helping. Now there's a thought. Damnit, now I need to jack off.
Where was I? Oh yeah. Guess it should surprise me more 'n it does, that my alpha male, straight as an arrow friend and boss has the hots for a guy at least ten years his junior, which is how he got the nickname, though he'd shoot me if I told him.
See, I also know more about Junior than he realizes, and I've seen the way he looks at Chris. He damn near worships him, gets this little lost puppy look that could give JD a run for his money whenever he sits there pretending to work on his reports, just starin' at Larabee's office like it's the only place he wants ta be in the whole world. And then he sighs like a school girl and gets this idea in his head that maybe he should go in there and, wonders never cease, ask for help on those reports he ain't doin'. We all know he don't need the help, not like he used ta. But Chris tells him ta come in and helps him, sits all real close like, and then when Vin leaves I'll be damned if he don't get this look on his face like he could eat Vin from the toes up, or mebbe the head down.
Yeah, when we get out to the lake he'll be thinking of eating head. I've damn near made sure of that.
Them feelins he got ain't just gonna go away. And I've a mind he'll figger out what ta do with'em once he and Junior are alone. And naked. Naked being, what does Ezra say, the saline point?, the crucial point in the plan. Chris would shoot all of us if he knew what Ezra 'n me got cooked up. I told Ez I was invitin' everyone out to the lake and that I bet him twenty bucks that Vin use'ta go skinny dippin'. Ezra ain't the only one who can read people. He tells me I'm foolish to wager such a thing, especially against him, but I tell him that nature boy over there says he likes ta walk around his own apartment naked as the day he was born, and he couldn't tell me that Vin would think twice about jumpin' in no lake without clothes on. When Vin does things, he does 'em all the way. No half-measures.
I just pray he's the same in love or I'll wring his scrawny neck. Chris has had enough grief in his life that he don't need a skinny sharpshooter addin' to it. Though I doubt he will. I've seen the changes in Chris since he met Vin. Everyone's seen it, though they don't know the reason for it. But since he came on board, Chris laughs more, smiles more, still gets angrier than a stepped-on rattler, but hell, some things never change. It's just high time he realized how much he loves Vin, and then bend the boy over in the office and fuck him through the desk.
Hell, I'd even take everyone out to an early lunch and give the two of them some privacy. And some lube. Strawberry flavored. I think I have some with me.
So Ezra looks at me and he gets this funny expression on his face, funny since Ezra never shows no expression if he can help it, and asks me if there is any particular reason I would want to see Vin "in the buff." I grin great big, I'm good at that, and tell him that I wasn't the one I was hopin' to excite by a bit of skinny dippin'. Now Ez ain't a man to ever let on ta what he's thinkin', but I know he knows, so I just go ahead and say it. I tell him that we need to get the two idjuts nekked 'n alone and let nature take her course. Meaning Chris and Vin. Not me and JD, though I'm certainly hopin' it will be. And damn if Ez's cheeks don't go all dimpled and I can see that gold tooth of his, and he says it's a plan. If Vin doesn't offer to go skinny dipping, then he will, not that he actually intends to, as he puts it, divest himself of his attire. My ass. He's getting nekked if I have to strip him. Now there's a thought.
Anyway, we shake hands on the deal and then, whaddya know, Vin announces to everyone that he used to skinny dip. Who'd'a thunk? And just to make things interestin', Ez bets me that JD won't strip. Then the little shit bets Ez that he can strip faster than me! And then we all lay bets as to how fast Vin will strip. I have no doubt that Junior can get outta his clothes faster than all of us. He'd ride out to the lake naked if he thought it'd prove a point.
The point I'm really wantin' to prove is with JD, although he don't know it yet. I ain't made up my mind 'til just recently to do somethin' about it. I don't want to scare him none, and I sure as hell don't want to hurt him, but I want to see if he's half as interested as I think he is. And the lake is a perfect place to find out. If things don't work out, then everyone can blame Ezra. We all do anyway.
I do hope that they don't blame me if things should run ill. They always do, and it is most decidedly unfair. Not everything that goes wrong is my fault. And do I complain vociferously when it is not my fault? No. I am the very model of restraint when it comes to pointing out the inherent vices of my teammates. Or at least the very model of tact and diplomacy.
Or at least I obfuscate. If they don't know they're being condescended to, then they cannot punish me. Tee hee.
I am parking my precious car as far away from shore as I can. The undomesticated hoodlums might take it upon themselves to slide across its hood, while both wet and naked, and call it a buff job. As witty a pun as that may be, witty enough that I doubt they would conceive of it, I do not need ass prints on the hood of my car! Unless they are my ass prints, while I am spread eagle, with my legs wrapped around... Lord, where are my manners! A gentlemen does not discuss such things.
Mssrs. Sanchez and Jackson are the only ones here. I believe they are testing their lung capacity. I would make a comment about juvenile competition, but considering what I am about to referee, it would be best if I said nothing.
If I know my team, and I believe I have proven that I do, then Mr. Larabee will be wringing his hands, trying to talk himself out of coming. But I have faith that temptation will prove the superior motivator, and he will be unable to resist the desire to see Mr. Tanner in the flesh. All of it. I just hope he has the good sense to get in the water first, or the gig will be up. More than the gig will be up. A lot more, if my casual perusal of Mr. Larabee's anatomy is accurate.
I wonder if the water is cold.
I really will be happy for the two of them if this little stratagem succeeds. They deserve one another. And I mean that in the least magnanimous way. Tee hee. But they also deserve happiness, and if they can provide that for one another, then I will be most congratulatory. And I didn't even place a bet on the odds of their getting involved. That would be beneath me. One of the very few things that is.
Mr. Wilmington should be arriving shortly, unless he had to drive Vin all the way back to that utterly disreputable fallout shelter he calls an apartment. I have a sneaking suspicion that they are going to try to convince me to join them in the water. I shall not. I shall politely decline. A gentlemen does not swim in public in the nude! And they shall suffer dire retributions if they try to force me. They shall rue the day.
Oh yes. There shall be ruing.
If I know Chris, and I really do, then he'll be padding around the ranch doin' a whole lotta nothin' tryin' to talk himself outta coming. He'll be packing a bag, like he'll need much of one, and he'll be trying to find excuses, and he'll be thinkin' of Vin all naked and wet, and he'll probably stop and masturbate just to take the edge off, I would, and then he'll finally get in his damn truck and get the hell out to the lake.
So I offer to take Vin and JD all together in my beautiful vehicle, safer than Vin's jeep, so as we can ride to the lake and get there at the same time. This means I have to drive all the way out to Purgatorio to that armpit of an apartment Vin calls home. So we're drivin' and JD's in the middle, which is right where I want him to be, and I make sure that I keep my thigh right up against his. He don't pull away, but he don't seem to think much of it. If he were any blinder, he'd be runnin' into walls. But I figure I gotta take things real slow with this one. He's young, and I don't think he knows what he wants, and I know I can be a might overpowering at times.
I'd like to overpower him, like to suck him off 'til he can't get it up any more, which at his age is probably more often than I can. I'd like to make love to him 'til he can't walk straight for a week. Brings whole new meaning to the phrase 'saddle sore.' And yes, I said it, make love to him. I don't know when he captured me heart, but he did, little mischief maker, with those doe eyes and that smile and those agile little hands of his. But we've got a lot in common, we laugh at the same things, share the same tastes in movies and such, share the same passions. And if I have my way there's gonna be a fuck of a lot of passion bein' shared. Fuck being the operative, that's what Ezra says, operative word.
And I know as much as my reputation precedes me and might make it hard to believe, I do care for the little man. A whole lot. A forever kind of lot. And I just hope he feels the same way.
He's just talking, like ta never ta draw breath, and he wonders if Ezra will actually join us. I look over at Vin and Vin looks back at me, and he gets that lazy, lop-sided grin of his. "Whaddya think, Buck? Ya think that Ez'll get naked." His grin gets wider and I can read exactly what he's thinkin'.
"I'd say you can bet on it, pard," I tell him.
JD looks at the two of us grinning to beat all, and he says, "Guys," like he's tryin' to warn us, "You're not gonna hold him at gunpoint are you?"
I laugh, thinkin' that would be downright hilarious. But knowin' Ez he would rather be shot. "Nah, kid, we're just gonna help him out a little."
"Can I help too?" I can't help it, but I fall for him all over again when he gets that hopeful tone in his voice, and his big brown eyes get all wide and anticipatin'. I'd so love to be the one ta make his eyes go wide like that.
Vin speaks up fore I can say anything. "Sure, JD. Reckon we could use a third man. You 'n Bucklin hold his arms, I'll get his legs."
It's a plan. And we arrive at the lake and I sneak a look at Vin. He looks like he just swallowed a lung full of lake water and needs to choke it back up cause Chris is just standing there, shirtless, with his hands on his fly, lookin' over his shoulder, right at Vin. I think the temperature in the cab just rose thirty degrees and I'd bet my badge that Vin's already sportin' a hard on. I'd check, but JD is shovin' on me and tellin' me ta get my ass out already. Glad ta know he's thinkin' about my ass.
And I'll be damned if Larabee doesn't just shuck the rest of his clothes right then and there. I think I heard Vin gulp. So I up the ante and I swat Chris right on his ass, pretty hard too.
"Nice tan lines, stud." I know I'm treadin' a fine line here, but I nearly crack up when Chris gives me his best death ray glare and just walks off to the water. I figure it was worth the trouble when I notice that Vin can't take his eyes off that ass with my hand print on it as it drops below the waterline.
So we're standin' here ready to strip and Ezra starts counting down. And we're off! And I was right. Vin is naked before I even get my pants off, and holy hell in a hand basket! Boy is downright hung like a bull. He wasn't wearing any underwear. Does he always go commando? Like the time he wore those impossibly tight leather pants for that job with Ez. And we all hooted and hollered. Makes ya wonder how he zipped them things up.
So I put my hands on my hips and eye him up and down, makin' sure that Chris is doin' the exact same thing. "Damn boy! You got a permit for that thing?"
Vin just gives me his cocky little grin, now I know why it's always so cocky, and heads for the water. But then he stops and whatever he does makes Chris look like he's just swallowed some spoiled milk or something. Idiot. Doesn't he know a good thing when he sees it? But Vin just tilts his head to the side and turns to Ezra.
"You gonna join us, Ez?" He asks, all innocent like, and practically swaggers over to him, and looks at him like he's the most edible thing Vin has ever seen. Ezra doesn't even twitch, just slings his eight million dollar suit jacket over his shoulder, and says no, he ain't gonna join us. And Vin says, "Aw come on," and gives me this little nod. And whoosh! JD and me bum rush him and start strippin' him. Chris looks like he's gonna laugh his fine ass right off, and actually Ezra threatens us with something dire, a real big word. And then says we will rule the day. I think we are already! Now he's beggin' Chris to make us stop. Ha!
And then I see somethin' that no one else sees as Vin has to drop to his knees and yank Ezra's pants off. Chris looks like he's gonna shoot his wad right there in the water. Good. His jaw is plum near come off its hinges. And we're carryin' Ezra to the water and throwin' him right in. Sploosh! One very wet, very naked, very annoyed southerner. But where the hell is Vin goin? He just takes off without one word ta Chris and starts swimmin' like he's headin' for Nevada. And Ezra bobs up right next ta Chris and tells him he can close his mouth now.
Oh shit, did Vin think Chris was gapin' like a large mouth bass lookin' at Ezra?
Merd, merd, merd! Vin thinks Mr. Larabee was gaping like an idiot at me.
"You may close your mouth now, Mr. Larabee."
That ought to give him pause for thought, and by the look on his face he is thinking far too hard about it. Perhaps being far too hard has robbed most of his mental faculties and pooled them southwards. I decide to leave it alone for the moment and swim off in the same direction as our wounded Mr. Tanner.
"Hey Ezra, hold up a second!" Mr. Larabee shouts this at me as though he wanted the entire lake to listen in. Not bright, although Buck already knows what's going on, so I doubt he'll intrude as is his want. I do declare, he can be the most aggravatingly nosy person on the planet, although he means well. He does always mean well. But Mr. Dunne is apparently trying to drown him. I'll have to suggest that Mr. Larabee give him a raise.
"May I assist you with something, Mr. Larabee?" I wish I had a photograph of the indescribably uncomfortable expression he is wearing right now. I shall up my sum of his facial manifestations to three. Why can he not just admit to wanting to have Vin's legs up around his ears as he shags him rotten? He cannot deny that the sight of Vin and his inconceivably enormous manhood left him entirely incapable to do anything but stare in admiration.
"Yeah, um..." There is a very long pause at this point, so I raise an eyebrow, hoping it will give him the courage to continue. Before this point, I would have never estimated the man lacked courage. "I wasn't gaping at you."
I have the sudden almost irrepressible urge to smile and pat him on his little blonde head. "I wasn't implying that you were, Mr. Larabee." Oh my Lord, I shall add dumbfounded to his tally of expressions.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
What did he assume it meant? "It means precisely what the words indicate. It did not occur to me for an instant that I might me the reason your mandible was in danger of being dislocated." Although I fear my mandible is in great danger of being dislocated if I do not at least swim beyond arm's reach. "Mr. Larabee, far be it from me to meddle in the affairs of a co-worker, or a superior, but I believe it would serve you best if your explanations were tendered to the actual inspiration for your slack-jawed veneration."
Poor man, he really does need it spelled out for him. He can only find a monosyllabic response, and so I adopt a tone of voice reserved for small, hopelessly dense children and say, "Chris, go talk to Vin."
And I have never seen a man so shocked. It would be humorous if it weren't so pitiable. Nathan actually swims over to us and asks Mr. Larabee if he is feeling ill. Not that he would ever admit to feeling less than the prevailing response of 'fine', even if it were the last word he uttered with his last breath. I merely smile and pay him the courtesy of a bow of my head, and swim away.
I have done my part. Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Dunne appear to be having a race to the island, which is where Vin appears to be heading as well. I have stacked the cards as heavily in their favor as I possibly can. The rest is up to them.
Gotta hand it to the kid, he sure can swim. We're most of the way to the island, right behind Vin. Maybe that's how JD stays in such good shape. I had no idea that under all those clothes, he had the body of an underwear model. Most of him's too short to be a model, but there's one particular part of his anatomy that ain't. Jesus, I'm startin' to sound like Ezra. He kinda rubs off on ya after a while.
Speaking of rubbing, I don't think JD knows just how much I enjoyed him tryin' ta dunk me under the water. I could feel the ripple of his muscles, the strength in his arms and hands graspin' at me, and he has no idea what it did to me ta feel his dick slide all the way across my backside. Granted, all this swimming has gotten the blood pumping to other parts of my bock besides my cock, but damn, I got so hard so fast, I had ta let him dunk me just so he wouldn't rub right up against my cock. Not that I wouldn't like him to. But I don't think he's ready for that just yet. Might shock the life out of him. He wouldn't shoot me, but he might never speak to me again, and that would be awkward since we live together.
He yells ta Vin if he's gonna lay out for a while. And he's all bragging that he won. He looks right at me and says, "I keep tellin' Buck that old guys don't have the stamina."
Little punk. I'll show him stamina. He ain't never seen stamina like I've got. "Yeah, you little punk," I swim up right by him and wiggle my eyebrows, "come up on shore with me an' I'll show you who's got stamina."
I don't think the kid knows I'm serious, cause he pulls this ridiculous face like he's just found month old meatloaf in the fridge, which there very well might be. "Gross, Buck."
"Hey don't knock it 'til ya try it, kid." I'm serious, and I let him know it. And his eyes go all wide and he clamps his jaw shut like he don't know what ta say cause he just figured out that I'm serious. But he ain't runnin', or swimmin', for shore, so I look right at Vin and say "You never know 'til you ask." I don't know who looked more surprised, Vin or JD, but best let Vin know that I don't mind if he and the boss get it on.
Good, it looks like Ezra said somethin' to Chris cause he's comin' up behind me and JD. Looks like he's gonna follow Vin onta the island, so I best keep me 'n JD out here. Ha! I've got me an idea. I look at JD like I've just decided what I wanna eat for dinner and disappear under the water. Vin's on his own now. I can hear JD's squeal clear as anything and now he's trying to get away. Not very likely.
I'll make him squeal.
Gotcha! I catch up with the brat and start ticklin' the living daylights out of him. I can hear Chris comin' up near us and he looks like he thinks the world has just stopped spinning, and he just swims on. But JD is spluttering for air, so I stop torturin' him but I don't stop touchin' him. I just keep my hands on his hips, real gentle, just holding him in place as we tread water.
I think he just blinked for the fiftieth time, but he's stayin' put, just looking into my eyes like he's figuring things out. I can see his mind whirring a mile a minute like it does when he's decodin' things on the computer. And then he says the damndest thing.
"You're serious aren't you? God, Buck, I dreamed but I never knew. Here I've been all this time, living in the same apartment with you, and you go out with so many women I can't even count them, while I'm alone waiting for you to come home."
Oh Christ, I had no idea. That's the saddest thing I've ever heard. I've gone and broken his heart before I even knew I had it. Did I have it? Do I still? I feel his hands run along mine where they're still at his waist, but he doesn't try to push them off. He slides them up my forearms and holds me too. And suddenly I'm the one who can't speak. Where's Ezra when you need him? But I don't know and don't care. All I can see is those enormous, puppy dog eyes of his staring a hole right through my soul.
"God, JD, I didn't know. I've been so scared of losin' you as a friend, and even more scared of hurtin' ya. I don't ever want to do that. And I know I ain't got the best track record..."
"But you've sure got the longest," he says with a smart-ass grin.
"Fuck you," I say with a chuckle that's more nervous than amused.
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" He cocks his head at me like he's been taking lessons from Vin. "You gonna do something about it or just stand there like the big idiot you are?"
Except that I'm not standing, I'm treading water, and evidently I am an idiot because I can't seem to wrap my mind around the words he just spoke. I ain't even certain they were English. And he smiles at me, a full, beautiful, open smile and swoops up right in front of me and kisses me on the top of my nose. He does it so fast I can't even react, not that I've been doin' so hot in the reaction department so far, and he pushes off of me with his feet no less, and tells me that I can have him if I can catch him.
He doesn't know it, but once I catch him, I'm never letting go.
I know that it is not in my nature to pry, although it is in my nature and my profession to spy, and I would offer my jag as a prize to the first person who goes and spies on Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner. I saw the former pursue the latter up onto the island but we've seen no more of them for some time now. I hope that is a good thing. I sincerely hope that they have pulled their collective craniums from their rectums and at least one of the other of them has replaced it with a much more appropriate body part.
Listen to me, mother would be horrified to hear me say such things, think such things. But inasmuch as I have never experienced true love, I am not one to stand in its way. Speaking of which, what on earth is going on between JD and Buck!? Or, more accurately, Buck and JD? I think that the world has officially stopped spinning on its axis. Does anyone else see this? No, apparently not. I am alone here. Well, Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Jackson are deep in some sort of conversation that only the two of them could manage to enjoy while standing chest high in the water as if oblivious to the fact that one is supposed to swim in water. And oblivious to what is going on between the young Mr. Dunne and our resident rake, Mr. Wilmington.
Angels and ministers of grace defend us. JD just kissed Buck on the nose and Buck is now chasing him, yes it is a game of chase, across the water. Mr. Wilmington is leering, there is no other word for it, and Mr. Dunne is giggling, yet again the only word that can describe the high-pitched sound, and it appears that the younger of the two is leading the older out of sight around the back of the island. No wait, they're coming back again. My arms are becoming quite fatigued, so I better find a place to stand and watch the highly entertaining spectacle. As I never leave anything to chance, I would never have placed a bet for any sum no matter how small on the chances of Mr. Wilmington being attracted to anything that doesn't wear a skirt. And shave its legs. Although there have been several men of my acquaintance who would do so without the slightest compunction.
Evidently the two of them lack compunction totally, or at least they lack shame. No, what they lack is something I wish I lacked, awkwardness with themselves, with each other, in front of God and everyone. They are who they are without apology. I envy that. And Mr. Dunne has finally taken pity on Mr. Wilmington and has stopped. And they're talking. It looks serious. But it can't be too serious because both of their faces split into the most enormous grins.
And JD has drawn his arms around Buck's neck.
And has kissed him. And is still kissing him. And wow is he ever kissing him. Don't they need to breathe? Where are Buck's hands? Contributing to the ecstasy of a minor, no doubt. They're still kissing. And I am reduced to short sentences. I have never seen two smiles more overjoyed as they two they are sharing with one another right now. But that was short-lived. Their mouths are latched onto one another as though they are actively trying to perform dual, simultaneous tonsillectomies.
I am quite aroused now. I believe that there are things going on beneath the water that aren't legal in this state. I dare not look back at Josiah or Nathan because if they are watching, I am sure they are disapproving. I approve. I think I need to relieve a little of my own discomfort. I believe, yes, I am quite sure that the two of them are actually copulating in the water. Well done, gentlemen, though I use the term loosely.
I wonder if semen attracts fish.
The young Mr. Dunne has his hands resting on Mr. Wilmington's shoulders, and Mr. Wilmington's hands are still below the water. I wonder if I can jack myself off at the same time they reach climax. I can't see clearly enough but I do believe that that is a look of extreme pleasure on their faces. And they're kissing again. And Buck has attached himself to JD's neck like a leech. Evidently to keep from crying out. JD did not possess that much forethought and I'm sure that everyone in a tri-state area heard that shout.
Aaaaahhhhhh. That's better. I certainly hope that sperm doesn't attract fish. For my sake as well as theirs. And Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Jackson are approaching, asking me what's wrong with Buck and JD. Nothing. Nothing whatsoever. They are in fact quite happy with one another and still very physically entangled.
Oh my. Oh my word. There is a stillness upon the land as when it was first created. All time has paused. There isn't a sound for miles. All creatures great and small, as Josiah would say, are waiting with baited breath, poised on the edge of a knife. Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee are out in the open on the shore of the island. They are speaking, but Mr. Larabee isn't facing him. Then he turns and descends upon Vin like a plague. Although perhaps that isn't the best of similes.
If I had to wager I would say that Mr. Larabee is a better kisser than Mr. Wilmington. It certainly seems so from here. And they are manifestly unaware that we are watching the two of them as they grope and fondle each other. Exchanging a few words, finding pleasure spots on each other's throats. Even Mr. Dunne and Mr. Wilmington are enthralled. I hear shocked gasps behind me. I cannot gasp. I cannot even breathe.
Vin has just gone down on his boss.
I think he let me catch him. Which is just fine with me. But he's a little afraid. I can see it even though he's trying to stay playful. At least we're standing now, or at least I'm standing. Water's still too deep for him, but he keeps a little away like he ain't sure of me yet. Baby, come here. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I might drown ya, but it'll be with kisses and not with water.
"I need to know how serious you are, Buck. I'm not gonna let you hurt me, so don't bother to tell me you won't." His eyes have gone all hard and I don't like that. I want my JD back. I want the little ornery, laughing, lovable, kid back.
"I may be young but I'm not stupid."
"No, never thought you were, kid."
"I'm not someone you can just try out once to see if you like it."
"Woah, there kid. You think I'd risk this, risk us, for a quick fuck? I can get that any time I want." Fuck. Not the best thing to say. His face goes all sad. Damnit, JD. "You think I don't know what I'd be gettin' myself into?"
"I ain't no kid. I may've never had a long term relationship with anyone of either sex, but from what I've seen, you don't have much practice in that department."
Damn. Kid doesn't pull his punches does he? I have to admit he's right. He knows me, knows me good, and I've never hid anythin' from him before, so I ain't gonna start now. "Ok, JD." I use his name to show him how serious I am. "How about I make this my first real try at a real long-term commitment? How about I tell you I love you? Would that help?"
I think maybe it might cause he just smiled wider than I've ever seen. So I smile back and he just threw his arms around me and is kissing the daylights out of me. So I kiss back. Damn, JD. His tongue is in my mouth before I have a chance to take things slow. Evidently I was way off in my assumption of just how scared he'd be, cause he ain't showin' fear now. More like he ain't eaten nothin' in a week and I'm a full course banquet.
His tongue is thrusting in and out of my mouth in the most wonderful rhythm, slow and deep, which makes me think maybe that's how he likes to take it, how he likes to be fucked. Although maybe he likes to fuck more. He sure don't act too submissive. So I try a little experiment with my hands. I pull him all the way into me until he wraps his legs around my waist. Nice. Very nice. I can feel his cock rubbin' my stomach. And God I'd love to wrap my mouth around it, tease him a little with my moustache.
But here I stand, so I hold both his ass cheeks in my hands and massage a little, draw a little moan out of him. Oh God, now I'm the one to moan cause he's pullin' on my lips and teasing them with his tongue. And when we break apart I'm pretty sure that the grin on my face is as stupid as the one on his.
Then he just dives back on me and thrusts his tongue into my mouth again. I don't let him win this tongue of war - ha, that was funny, I'll have to tell Chris - and I lap him real long and hard, to let him know how I'd like to fuck him. And I try a little something more.
I know he can feel by cock fit to burst pressing up against him, so I inch a finger closer and closer toward center. There it is. He whimpers a bit while I tease his tight little hole with my fingers. He squeezes harder with his legs and I take a chance and sink one of my fingers home. Oh God that's perfect. Fuck I want him. Want him so bad. He's just letting me finger fuck him right here in the water. So I add another finger and work him real good. He's more relaxed than I thought he'd be. Makes me wonder how much he's done this. Best not to think about it. I don't think he knows just how possessive I can be.
Christ Almighty, he just bit my neck, and he's whisperin' real low into my ear. "You were saying something about stamina, Buck?" Goddamn, he's actually nibbling my neck and I think he's gonna make me squeal. "Make love to me, Buck. Right here. Tell me you love me. Show me."
I look him real deep in the eyes then cause I know he means it. "There's nothin' I'd love ta do more. There's no one I love more."
He just latches onta my ear with his teeth and braces his hand son my shoulders and whispers. "Fuck me."
Oh I will. And I don't care who sees. I don't care who knows. Far as I'm concerned, it's just him and me. Like it will be from now on.
And I life him up just a little, position his hungry little body right over the head of my cock, and slowly... Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh. Oh Christ. Oh GAWD! He just presses himself all the way down. And suddenly I'm shakin'. And it's so tight, so hot, I don't think I can move. He squeezes me a little and tells me to open my eyes, which I didn't even know where shut.
"I'm ok, Buck. I love you too." And he's kissing me again, real tender and deep, and to hell with stamina! I'm gonna die here. I think I just grunted. Real attractive. But he loves me. He loves me. I keep repeatin' that to myself as I slide him up and down my body, on my cock, almost all the way out and then all the way back into the hilt. He's squeezin' me so tight with his legs, and clenchin' so hard on the inside, gawd, grinding his own cock all slippery wet between us. I can tell he's movin' his hips so I hit his sweet spot every time cause he's shuddering in my arms.
Baby man. I can't hold on. Feels too damn good. God. Fuck.
I tell him I'm gonna come and he says he is too, and I bury my mouth in his neck, and I don't mean to bite him, but I am. And he hollers loud enough to wake the dead. And I'm coming.... yes, oh God... yes, aaaahhhhhhh... sweet Jesus.
Oh my sweet little baby, he's still shakin' somethin' fierce, so I wrap my arms around him and hold him up good, still inside him, right where I'm s'posed ta be. "Love ya, JD."
"Love you too, Buck." I just pet his little dark head and whisper stupid stuff to him. "Buck? Are Vin and Chris supposed to be making out?"
Lord love a duck, they are. They're finally gonna get it on. Hallelujah, it's about fucking time! I lift JD off of me, and now I'm shiverin' cause that's a lotta cold down there all of a sudden. And we turn and I feel like a fucking voyeur, but it's their own damn faults, doin' it right out there in the open like they was alone. Damn!! You go, cowboy! Apparently, Vin could suck a golf ball out of a garden hose. He's goin' down on Chris like nothin' I ever seen. JD has the gall to ask me if I'm takin' notes. Damn, I bet even Ezra could take notes. I don't think I'm even old enough to be watching that man's mouth do what it's doin', much less JD here.
And we have a winner! "Whoo-eeee! Way to go, Tanner!!"
I retract an earlier statement - that in every assertion of fact or conviction there is always a caveat. There is no qualification here. That is unequivocally the most enthusiastic blow job I have ever seen given. I certainly have never been on the receiving end of such zeal. He could suck the cork out of a wine bottle.
And we have a winner. Good show, lads, good show.
And Buck is clapping. And hooting. Mr. Larabee will kill him. Oh well. Mr. Sanchez has joined in the clapping. And the hooting. I hear Mr. Jackson mutter something about it being high time that those two got together. High time, indeed.
I also join clapping as does Mr. Dunne. I believe Vin feels inclined to take a bow, but thinks the better of it. I should bow if I were him. Quite a performance, gentlemen.
And I think that Mr. Larabee is going to pull Vin off into the bushes and ravish him. The lad is still in possession of the largest erection I have ever seen. Oh, my kingdom for a discreetly placed camera.
I have no idea how Mr. Larabee is going to service the lad, but knowing him, it's a fair bet that he will think of something. Vin can thank me later.
Right after he's done ruing. Oh yes, there shall be ruing.
Dear Lord, I think fish are attracted to sperm...
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