Chapter 33 - Moving On. (Monday, June 13th)

The sound of the beatific blond boy's breathing had changed just enough that Brian knew he was awake. Like a heat seeking missile, the warm lithesome body rolled over and glommed onto him, enveloping Brian in arms as tenacious as an octopus. At the same time, Brian felt the lower half of the snugly warm boyish body tilting forward, hips blindly seeking contact with his own lower half. Neither of them had reached the point of coherent speech yet but when the full coral-pink lips nuzzled at his ear, making small interrogatory noises, Brian understood exactly what was being asked.

Shit! The kid was fucking insatiable! How many times had they fucked already that night? Five, six, seven times? More? Brian had lost count. But somehow the palms of his hands, the thin skin over his hip bones, the chafed skin on the inside of his thighs, knew. Some sense memory of their prior joinings lingered in his skin, his joints, the very fiber of his being. But all Brian remembered consciously was the overwhelming feeling of softness, slick skin gliding over skin, warmth and wetness and heat and then jolting shots of pure electricity jarring his soul.

Somehow the solid body clinging to him seemed to melt, it's bones dissolving and the flesh melding with his own. His own body followed suit and he found himself melted over the top of the pale form under him as their lips hesitantly made renewed contact. The first touch was so light as to barely be felt. Brian felt like he was breathing in the smell and texture of Justin's lips rather than tasting them. But that didn't last long.

The hunger to devour the young flesh under him - that same desire he'd been fighting since the first time he'd had the boy - resurfaced without any warning. It shocked him the same way it had every single time he'd felt the sensation. He had the vaguely worrisome thought that he'd never get enough of this boy, but shook it off once again. There wasn't any time to mull over such revolutionary thoughts right then. He was consumed by his urgency and couldn't stop for vague philosophical contemplation. From the way Justin’s mouth was latched onto his own, it seemed that the younger man felt the exact same need.

He rolled off the yielding body, their lips remaining locked together, and lifted Justin’s shoulder enough so that the boy tipped onto his side, facing away from Brian but insistently wriggling his round bottom closer at the same time. Justin smiled enticingly over his right shoulder as Brian paused long enough to grab some supplies from the nightstand and hastily suit up. Brian propped himself up on one elbow for leverage and also so he wouldn’t have to relinquish his ability to reach those tasty lips. Justin’s upper body was twisted around - he was just as avidly interested in maintaining the contact with Brian's delicious dark raspberry lips - one hand's delicate long artistic fingers cupped around the edge of Brian's jaw.

After all their prior endeavors, the boy was plenty ready for him. Brian wrapped one hand around the curve of Justin's hip bone and let his hard length glide right in. They slid together easily. They just seemed to fit. Brian had felt that same connection from the very start but it still amazed him every single time. It was almost like the gratifying snap when two jigsaw puzzle pieces fit together. As though the tang of his piece was custom designed to lock with the warm wet blank of Justin's. It was such an immediate bond. It almost overwhelmed Brian once again. He had to pause, catch his breath and concentrate to ensure he didn't cum at that first moment.

He held himself perfectly still, embraced deep inside his lover’s welcoming body, while the blond gasped and his supple body arched from a reciprocal jolt of sensation. Brian fought the insistent pulling - that feeling like someone was tugging on a cord hooked to the inside of his navel which, if he gave into it, would trigger the cascade of pleasure that would end things far too soon. Which was truly remarkable considering how many times he'd already come that night. His dick seemed super-sensitized, though. It took a couple of deep breaths to steady him enough that he was once again in control.

By the time he felt safe to move again, his frisky blond seemed to have lost all control. The close-cropped blond head had fallen back on the pillow, Justin's mouth was open and his gasping breaths were mingled with little mewling cries. It was such a delectable sight. The wantonness. The abandonment. The sheer rutting lust. And maybe even more revealing, the complete and total trust that Brian felt emanating from the boy struck a chord deep within the older man.

Brian slid his left arm underneath Justin's body, his right already wrapped lower around a slim waist, and pulled the lissome youth as close as he could. They rocked slowly to the rhythm of their jointly beating hearts. Brian kept his arms tight around the smaller frame. His one hand brushing languidly along the boy's heated cock, his belly and thighs, enjoying the feel of that ultra-soft skin, so soft and smooth it felt like polished silk under his fingertips. In the dark of the warm summer night with their sweat-slicked skin gluing them together and the never ending prickles of their rising pleasure obscuring every other sense, the world around Brian seemed surreal. He wondered briefly, if he could just get close enough, would they dissolve into each other?

Some indeterminate time later, when the moment of dissolution did come, it came quietly. The boy breathed out a plaintive "Brian!" and began to tremble in his lover's arms. The vibrations washed through them both, sweeping Brian along into his own happy convulsions. And when the big brunet came back to a sense of himself he found he was still holding Justin tightly to his chest, his lips tickling up and down the column of Justin's long pale neck as the boy's boneless body sagged in his arms.

"Good boy," Brian whispered, not really understanding why he'd said such a silly thing, except that he felt a strange sense of satisfaction that he'd finally sated the insatiable youth.

As he started to disentangle their legs, though, the twink revived a bit. "Don't go, Brian. Please," he whispered pleadingly. "I hate feeling so . . . so empty . . . afterwards. Just stay a little longer. Please."

"Shhh," Brian hushed him. "I'm not going anywhere, Sunshine. I'll still be here, even after you fall asleep with my cock inside you. I won't leave you." With a contented sigh the young blond subsided again, a heavy but reassuring weight in Brian's arms.

Brian heard these words he'd uttered as if from a distance. They amazed him. It didn't sound like him. He'd NEVER said anything quite so sappy in his entire life. But, then again, they felt right. THIS felt right.

Maybe Mikey was right. Maybe he had been brainwashed. But, fuck it all - if so, it was well worth it.

Brian and Justin were a bit late coming downstairs the next morning. The rest of the House Boys were already assembled in the Greatroom and waiting to hear the day's announcements. Brian was uncharacteristically disconcerted by the knowing and amused looks everyone was shooting at the two of them. He looked down to where his fingers were entwined with Justin's and felt himself blush. Which of course threw him off even more because Brian Kinney did NOT blush like some inexperienced twink. But he still felt unaccountably shy knowing that all these other men were watching him and apparently saw right through his aloof exterior. He was far more embarrassed getting caught in a moment of casual intimacy than he'd ever been when fucking in public. Go figure.

Luckily, Brian didn’t have time to stew over this newest development. They barely made it into the lineup with the other contestants before the lights flickered and the voice of The Master echoed out of the speakers near his portrait.

“Good morning, my children! Are all of you ready to head into a brand new week of pleasure and discovery? I certainly hope so, since I have so MUCH planned for you,” The Master sounded as pleased with himself as always and Brian winced at the over-the-top showmanship. “Today, of course, you have no tasks that need to be completed until we meet again for the evening Challenge. I hope you enjoy your day of rest, my children, since you have well earned it. However, there are a couple of announcements that we need to get through first before you go along on your merry way.”

“First of all, as I’m sure you’re all aware, yesterday’s Sunday in the Sun was a rousing success. Our little game has made quite the splash in the news media and I thank you for so graciously participating in the interviews yesterday. The full news coverage will be hitting later this week, which I expect will result in even more interest. Keep that in mind, boys, in your day-to-day activities.” The Master went on, “I expect we will be having even more online visitors in the days to come and your extra efforts to please them will be rewarded. And, to help you keep up appearances, as it were, I am making several beauty and grooming professionals available to you today. My servants will be happy to assist you in setting up times for each of you to get haircuts, waxing or whatever other services you require. The servants will also be taking orders for any additional personal care products you might require - all of which will be delivered to you later in the week. Please take full advantage of these services. Neat and tidy is always more pleasing to both myself and your housemates, I’m sure.”

“And while you are waiting for your turn with these professionals, I have two small things that might amuse you,” The Master’s voice rang with a hint of hilarity. “First of all, there is the matter of rewarding the winners of yesterday’s competition as well as punishing the losing team. Brian, Paal and Dane, please step forward.” The three men from the losing team took their places. “Your efforts yesterday were valiant, gentlemen, but not sufficient. Therefore, you are being placed in servitude for the day to your more victorious housemates. You three will serve as the Kitchen Patrol for the rest of today and will be responsible for preparing and serving all of the meals today for the rest of your house.”

Brian cringed when the masked servant standing off to the side of the portrait uncovered his big silver tray and revealed a pile of hideously pink chef’s hats which he proceeded to place on the three loser’s heads. But, whatever. If they actually thought Brian could cook - with or without a stupid pink hat - they’d be woefully surprised with whatever he managed to rustle up for them. He expected he’d have the last laugh when the rest tried to eat whatever they asked him to cook. Brian stepped back into line with the others trying to ignore the atrocious pink hat he was now sporting.

“Now, for the last announcement of the morning, I’m VERY pleased to announce that we have another Secret Challenge Winner to reward. Brian, my son, you are the winner of the Topping Challenge - although it’s not as if that was ever going to be in doubt,” The Master’s slightly evil electronic laughter reverberated through the speakers at this witticism. “As of Saturday, you, Brian, have topped all the other contestants in the Summer of Sin. Congratulations. As your reward, you are the lucky recipient of this phenomenal toy, a Tenga Silver Flip Hole. Use it well, my child. It should provide many wonderful hours of amusement for both you and anyone else you choose to share it with. Enjoy it, with my thanks for all the pleasure you have provided to ME over the years I’ve been observing your meteoric studly rise.”

The second masked servant approached Brian with his laden silver tray and presented Brian with the unassuming looking silvery grey cylinder and three small sample-sized bottles of lube. The awe with which the others around him looked on the relatively unassuming little toy made Brian want to laugh. It really WAS a great reward. Although, if he really was the stud they all thought him, what the fuck would he need with a masturbation aid? He should be able to get all the stimulation he needed without any artificial assistance. Not that he was about to turn down the prize. Nobody turned down a Tenga! That would just be crazyl

“That will be all for this morning, boys,” The Master’s voice rang out with finality. “Go! Enjoy yourselves for the day and I will speak with you all this evening.”

To: GalaxyLad1970

From: BAK@Ryder.net

Hey, Mikey!

Ted tells me you've been watching the show a lot, which means you know I'm doing well. They do keep us pretty busy though, which is one of the reasons why I haven't had much time to write. The other reason, which you probably already know since you've been watching, is that I've met someone. Well, not just someone - he's the most wonderful man in the world, actually. We are so totally in love it's ridiculous! I can't wait for you to meet him. I'm sure you'll love him as much as I do. And guess what? As soon as we're done with this game we're flying up to Vermont to get married! Then we plan to have a huge commitment ceremony back here in Pittsburgh so everyone can come and share in our happiness. What do you think of matching powder blue tuxedos? We'll have to start looking for a house right away though - maybe something big out in the suburbs - he loves me so much and can't wait to start having my babies! We decided we want a huge family. At least seven or eight kids. And then he'll take up cooking and knitting while I garden. Doesn't that sound dreamy? Of course my dick will probably shrivel up and fall off but who cares since we're just so much in love!

Oh, and in case you didn't pick up on the sarcasm already - I know subtlety isn't a Novotny trait - here's what I'm really trying to tell you, Mikey: GO FUCK YOURSELF! Or better yet, find someone else to fuck you so you can get a fucking life already and stay out of mine! I'm not fucked up on drugs. I'm not being brainwashed. And who I fuck, when, where, why or how often I fuck them, is none of YOUR business. If I decided to take up necrophilia, or even fucking pussy, it STILL wouldn't be any of your business. And if I hear you've been spreading stupid rumors about me being brainwashed again I'll fucking kick your ass as soon as I'm outta here. So just shut your big fucking mouth and stay out of MY sex life.

Brian

"There! If that doesn't send Mikey into an apoplectic fit nothing will!" Brian sounded so pleased with himself. "What do you think? Will that make his tiny little busybody brain explode or what?" Brian looked over his shoulder, beckoning his blond to come read the email he'd just composed.

Justin got up out of the recliner where he'd been lounging and reading another Seymour Bhutz novel. He moved slowly. It HAD been a long night and he was pretty fucking sore. It was a small room though so Brian didn't have to wait long before Justin was leaning over the back of Brian's chair reading what was on the computer screen. Brian watched the grin stretch across his Sunshine's face as the boy read.

"Well, first of all, I'm NOT taking up knitting - cooking's fine but I draw the line at any type of needlework. And secondly, if you really want eight kids, you'll be the one popping them out, Big Guy. I don't want to lose my girlish figure," Justin leaned in closer and emphasized his teasing words with a kiss to Brian's cheek. "Oh, and I REALLY hope your dick doesn't fall off. Sorry, but that's a deal breaker for me. If it does, I'll be suing for divorce."

Brian spun his computer chair around and pulled a giggling Justin onto his lap. "Don't worry. If that ever DOES happen, you won't have to divorce me. You can just shoot me and put me out of my misery."

*Mmmmmm* Justin moaned as he rubbed up against the member in question, which appeared to be fully functional and hard as an iron spike at the moment. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Mr. Pokey anytime soon,” Justin giggled and squirmed happily closer.

“Mr. POKEY?” Brian’s mouth dropped open comically and he dug his fingers into Justin’s sensitive ribcage in retaliation. “Fuck you! You are NOT calling my dick Mr. Pokey.”

The discussion devolved after that into gasping and tickling and giggling - not all of it coming from Justin, by any means - until the two of them fell off the chair and ended up in a heap on the floor.

"Will you two STOP already?" Dane groused from his spot sitting in front of the second computer. "If you're gonna fuck - AGAIN - go upstairs or something. This is the only fuck-free zone in the house and I want to keep it that way. Besides, I can't concentrate on emailing my little brother while I'm listening to Cupcake and Mr. Pokey getting it on. Jeeze!"

Brian and Justin looked at each other sheepishly for about thirty seconds before breaking out into another freshet of laughter. Dane glared at them menacingly, eliciting even more uncontrolled laughter, until Justin was rolling on the floor with tears streaming from his eyes. Brian looked down on him indulgently, barely keeping his own face straight.

"The giant's right, Sunshine. There's no fucking in the Break Room," Brian said when Justin's laughter had finally died down to infrequent titters. "Besides, after last night I'm pretty sure your ass is too sore for another round. AND, it's almost time for my turn getting waxed. So, I'll leave you to the tender mercies of our friend, Mr. Bhutz." Brian hoisted himself off the floor, grabbed his Tenga Toy, and gave his blond a farewell smack on his perky bubble butt. "Oh, and while I'm gone, you better get busy and think up a more appropriate name for my cock. I think something with the word 'Magnificent' in it would be acceptable. Later."

To: Seuratbrat@mymail.net Sent: June 13 @ 8:01 am

From: LaughyDaphy@mymail.net

Re: JUSTIN RANDOLPH TAYLOR, YOU FUCKING PRICK, YOU BETTER NOT IGNORE THIS EMAIL LIKE ALL THE OTHERS OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND KICK YOUR SKINNY WHITE BOY ASS!

I hope that FINALLY got your attention, you big jerk, cause if you don’t write back to me in the next HOUR, I’m not joking about tracking you down and whupping your ass so hard it won’t be any good for all those games you’re playing in that mansion you’re hiding out in.

I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING, JUSTIN!

Daphne

To: Seuratbrat@mymail.net Sent: June 13 @ 9:01 am

From: LaughyDaphy@mymail.net

Re: ESCALATION!

You little SHIT! I’m so fucking pissed off at you I can barely type. Why the HELL won’t you write back to me? Like it’s not bad enough that you fucking disappeared on me for almost a month, stood me up for Prom and missed my Valedictory speech at Graduation! Now, you’re not talking to me? You ass!

Fine! I’m not only going to track your ass down and kick it in, I’m also going to tell everyone about how you were so pissant scared before our first choir concert in third grade that you peed in your pants and had to wear the little girl panties that the school secretary gave you all the rest of the day!

You have precisely fifteen minutes to respond to this email or your punishment will get WORSE!

Don’t try me, Justin.

Daph.

To: Seuratbrat@mymail.net Sent: June 13 @ 9:25 am

From: LaughyDaphy@mymail.net

Re: I'M SERIOUS JUSTIN!

Does that gorgeous auburn-haired hunk you're macking on know that you still sleep with Gus-Gus, your teddy bear? Well, he will as soon as I find you, since you STILL haven't answered me you asswipe!

Daph

To: Seuratbrat@mymail.net Sent: June 13 @10:03 am

From: LaughyDaphy@mymail.net

Re: Bringing out the Big Guns!

You had a chance to save yourself, but noooooo. Well, fine! You want to play hard ball? How's this - you have one hour to respond to this email or I go tell your MOTHER that you're the one who took my virginity!

And just so you know, I'm now logged into that filthy porn website and watching your every move. And I'm going to keep on watching you - even when you're fucking some guy - until you write back. I might even start recording portions of the webcast if you take too long. Then I can watch you fucking over and over and over again and I'll be able to tease you about it when we're fifty and grey!

Do you REALLY want me watching this shit, Justin?

Not turning off the computer till I hear from you!

Daphne.

"Shit! She found me," Justin swore as he quickly scanned through the increasingly frightening emails.

"Who found you," Dane, who was still answering his own mail, asked.

"My best friend, Daphne. See, I've kinda been hiding from her. I sorta stood her up at Prom and I've been avoiding her emails but she must have figured out where I am and she's threatening to get really nasty," Justin was gnawing on his bottom lip the way he did when he was really upset. "Shit! How did she find me?"

"Probably the same way my little brother found me," Dane replied, sounding almost as worried as Justin had a moment before. "Apparently there's been a metric fuck ton of publicity about our little reality show. And those guys filming yesterday for Pittsburgh Out, they've already posted some stuff to their online site. According to Theo, one of his friends saw me on the Internet and now everybody he goes to school with knows. Can you believe that? They're only in Middle School for fuck's sake. How the hell did any of his friends get access to gay porn sites? He better not let Oma see any of that shit - it'll give her another stroke."

"Oma?" Justin asked, glad to be distracted from his own email dilemma for a moment by Dane's drama.

"My grandmother. Theo's staying with her for the summer while I'm here. Unfortunately, she's 87 and not in the best of health, but there wasn't really anyplace else for Theo to go, you know."

Dane was typing away while he spoke, only half aware of what he was saying. "See, our parents were killed in a plane crash a few years ago, so it's just the two of us. I dropped out of school to get a job and take care of Theo. It's been tough the last few years though. I've been working construction jobs when I could get them and bartending or bouncing for some clubs, but we were barely scraping by. So, I thought, if I could win this Summer of Sin thing, I could go back to college, get my degree and maybe land a real job, plus have enough left over to buy a house and support Theo in the meantime."

Dane's frantically typing fingers paused for a minute as he thought. "Theo knows I'm gay and all, but I didn't exactly tell him the truth about all this," the big blond beefcake gestured randomly at the room behind them. "I mean, he's just a kid. How was I supposed to tell my 13 year old brother that I was going to spend my summer fucking guys on an Internet porn site? So I lied and told him I was working an out of town construction gig. But now he knows and he's pissed off that I lied to him. I just can't fucking win, can I?"

"He'll understand," Justin reached over and squeezed Dane's arm reassuringly. "You'll just explain and he'll forgive you. And, if you win, he'll be too happy about all the money to care.”

“Yeah. But if I DON’T win, he’ll not only be pissed off about that, he’ll also still hate me for leaving him with Oma for the Summer AND lying to him.” Dane grumbled but went back to his typing.

“Yeah, speaking of people who are pissed off at you,” Justin sighed and turned back to his own computer station.

To: LaughyDaphy@mymail.net           Sent: June 13 @ 11:01 am

From: Seuratbrat@mymail.net

Re: OKAY, ALREADY!

Hey, Daph!

Sooooooooo . . . I don’t know how you found me - I had no idea you were the type to trawl gay porn sites - but I guess you caught me. Yes, I’m spending the summer fucking guys on an internet porn site. Yes, I was hiding out from you. And, yes, I ditched you for Prom and Graduation. The only one of those I regret is that I missed hearing your Valedictory speech. Sorry. I hope it went well.

Are you happy now? Please turn off your computer! I don’t think I can handle knowing that you’re watching me while I’m fucking someone. Can you say, ‘Ick!’. And, if you DARE say anything about Gus-Gus to Brian, I swear this is the last time you will ever hear from me. As for telling my parents about fucking you, well, go right ahead - it would probably come as a relief to them seeing as how they’re probably busy as we speak praying for their son to go straight. Not that it’ll happen - especially after THIS summer - but it might make them feel better.

I imagine you want to know what happened. I’m not completely sure myself - everything seemed to spin out of control so fast . . . So, you know I applied to PIFA behind my parents’ backs even after Dad informed me that he would never let me go to some fairy art school. I heard back from them at the end of March that I was accepted! I would have told you about it except that we were fighting then over the whole ‘Take My Virginity, Please!’ fiasco. And besides, I knew that Dad wasn’t likely to ever agree to release my trust funds to pay for PIFA so it was probably just a pipe dream anyway.

Well, between that and you not talking to me and Hobbs and his cronies beating the fuck out of me every other day at school, I was pretty down. I had nobody to talk to and I was so fucking lonely, so I started spending a LOT of time on the net. Which is when I found the web site that this game is on. That’s how I saw the announcement about this reality show they were recruiting for and I got the idea that maybe I could enter and win the money to pay for PIFA myself. I didn’t really do anything about it though - I was still just mulling the idea over, really, when you and I made up and agreed to go to Prom together.

So, that’s when things went completely to shit. That Friday, I was in the locker room after gym and Hobbs and his gang caught me checking out the guys in the shower. He had Pat and Joe hold me while he beat the fuck out of me for about five minutes until Coach Randall came in and made them let me go. By the time I’d made it back home, it was really late. Dad had already come home from work and grabbed the mail. Unfortunately, there was a letter from PIFA in the mail and he was not happy about finding out that I’d gone behind his back to apply to the school, let alone that I’d already tentatively accepted enrollment there. It didn’t help matters much that I showed up with a split lip and my school uniform all torn and I was forced to admit that I got beat up by the school bully.

Dad was really pissed off. I was pissed off myself at Hobbs and the last thing I wanted was to deal with my narrow-minded ass of a father right then. So, when he started going on and on about how ‘No son of mine is going to go to some pansy-assed art school with a bunch of fags’, I kinda lost it. I told him he didn’t have to worry about the fags at art school turning me gay because I already was gay! Well, that shut him up . . . for about 10 seconds. Then he fucking went berserk and punched me in the face!

It was a fucking nightmare. My mother was crying and trying to pull Craig off of me. Molly was screaming in the corner of the kitchen and yelling at Dad to stop hitting me. I was screaming back at Dad - I have no idea what I actually said; I was too fucking pissed off to care - but whatever it was it only made him more insane. The last thing I remember was Craig physically picking me up and throwing me out the front door, telling me that ‘No son of his was going to be a fag’. He slammed the door in my face and I was left standing there on the front porch with only the clothes on my back and my backpack full of school shit.

At first I was too shocked and depressed to even think straight. I just walked around for hours. I didn’t even think to call you. When it finally did occur to me, I found my phone wasn’t working. Craig had my cell phone service cancelled within 2 hours after I left. What a fucking bastard! Luckily, he wasn’t able to access my bank account that night and I was able to pull out the $2k I’d been saving up to buy a car. So, I used that money, got myself a cheap hotel room downtown and went into hiding for the next few days. Luckily, I still had my tablet computer with me and Dad - technophobe that he is - didn’t think to shut that down, which meant I was still able to access the internet.

And that’s when I finally decided to enter the Summer of Sin competition and use the money to pay for PIFA and a place to live for the next five years while I finish school. Fuck Craig Taylor and the high horse he rode in on. He doesn’t want a fag for a son? Well, good! I don’t want a bigot for a father. I’m going to do what I want and when I’m a big fat fucking success he can kiss my ass. Literally! That’s what it will take to get me to forgive him.

In the meantime, I have a place to live for the summer and I’m getting LOTS of hot gay sex all day and all night. Really - ALL NIGHT - and that’s not just hyperbole! I fucking love it here. I’ve made some amazing friends and maybe found something even more . . . Fuck! I’m not going to even think it, let alone type it, for fear I’ll jinx myself. Let’s just leave it that I’m having the time of my fucking life here. And, even if I don’t win, I wouldn’t trade this experience for ANYTHING.

So, as you can see, I’m fine and you don’t need to worry about me. I hope I’ll have a chance to see you before you leave at the end of the summer for college. Are you still heading to Johns Hopkins? I know you’ll do great wherever you go and I promise not to freeze you out again. If/when I get a new phone you’ll be the first person I call, okay?

Now, stop threatening to tell people all my deepest darkest secrets, turn your computer off so I can go back to fucking all the guys here and I’ll talk to you later.

Love ya!

Justin.