Terry and the Peachers
XIX
By Michael Arram
Hampton Stuyvessant remained part of the Santa Barbara scene, despite Terry's rebuff, and slowly Terry began to untangle his end game. It was Andy. Stuyvessant wanted to be Andy's new lover, and he was working very hard to get what he wanted. Terry frequently found Stuyvessant out on the poolside with Andy, reading with him in the library, and driving out with him. Terry admitted that the pair had a lot in common: both had rich fathers, both were highly educated and very much into high culture. They could talk books. He finally came to the awesome conclusion that Stuyvessant looked on Terry as a rival, which explained the job offer, he wanted him out of the way. The question was whether Andy was aware of this, and what his reaction would be.
Terry did not like Stuyvessant, and he had him down as a definite gold digger. Being Terry, he remembered the pass Stuyvessant had made at him in Salvation. He just couldn't work out how serious it had been. If it had been serious, then Stuyvessant was not to be trusted near his boss.
One hot day, he passed Stuyvessant on his own, sunbathing on the poolside. He eyed him up frankly, and was invited to sit down.
'Why not strip off Terry, and join me?' he invited a little coquettishly.
Terry was about to shake his head, when a thought struck him.
'Hampton... you don't mind if I call you Hampton?'
'Not at all,'
'Look, I gotta confess that you turn me on a lot. You're some looker.' Terry sat next to the man on his sunbed, and began massaging his shoulders. Stuyvessant seemed to enjoy the attention.
'Thing is, Hampton. I just fantasise about you and me doin' it together. Are you as interested in me?'
Stuyvessant looked over his shoulder at Terry with an appraising glance. He took his time before replying. 'What have you got in mind?'
'Tell you what, Hampton, why not come down to a place I know – it's not far away, but we won't be interrupted – come and show me what you got. And you do want me don't you? I can see it in your eyes.'
Stuyvessant looked surprised, but rallied. 'Sure,' he said slowly, and then with more firmness 'Yep. Let's do it, Terry. Let's do it now. But why not come up to my room?'
'It's more fun doin' it outside. Believe me, I have experience of this.' Terry led Stuyvessant, barefoot and in his swimsuit, through the kids' way through the fence and down to Peter's fort. It was shaded and private. Abruptly he turned and ripped down Stuyvessant's swimsuit, leaving him naked with the suit round his ankles.
'Wow... hold on now...' Stuyvessant looked shocked and momentarily covered himself.
'Step out of them, Hampton, come on,' Terry insisted. The man stood naked and a bit confused as Terry eyed him up. Terry came to the conclusion that he might as well enjoy it. He took the nude man in his arms and gripped his plump backside as he close in for the kiss. It was the moment of truth. Stuyvessant answered his lips but only after a key moment of hesitation.
'Mmm. Hampton. Sweet lips.' Terry licked the man's teeth through his open mouth. Hesitantly again, Stuyvessant licked his tongue back. Terry's hands found the man's hanging balls and weighed them. Hampton gasped, and Terry felt his fat cock thicken. He had flushed bright red. Terry kicked into an aggressive sexuality which was unusual for him, though Stuyvessant was not to know it.
'Hands and knees, Hampton, assume the position. You know the drill. S'OK I've got protection. Never without it.' Breathing heavily, Stuyvessant went on all fours, his arse towards Terry. He caressed the man's hanging genitals until his erection was pointing at the ground. Stuyvessant was whimpering a little, and he had jumped when Terry's fingers had come into contact with his balls. There was definitely something odd going on here.
Terry removed his own clothes and threw them next to Stuyvessant. He got behind him and licked at his anus. The man shot up and away from him.
'Jeez, what are you doing?'
Terry sat down on the dirt, 'Come on Hampton, why the hard-to-get act? Are we going to be grown up gays here?'
Stuyvessant was trembling slightly, and edged closer. He got back into position and Terry began lapping at his entry again. He began sucking and penetrating him more aggressively with his tongue, his hands pulling Stuyvessant's buttocks apart.
He slurped as he came off him, 'How's that Hampton?'
The man gasped and shuddered, 'God!'
'That good eh?' Terry fitted a condom, reached under Stuyvessant and stroked him erect again. Then Terry let his finger stab deep into his anus. Stuyvessant squealed and moved away, but Terry was on him, pinning him and pushing his cock hard into his anus, slick and wet with Terry's own saliva. Stuyvessant would have screamed, but Terry had his mouth covered. His cock head popped into what he was now sure was a virgin arse. He had his dick up a straight guy, he was pretty certain.
Stuyvessant collapsed flat on the dirt with Terry heavy on top of him. Terry held down the man he was forcibly entering. A scared face, contorted with the pain from his rectum, looked back over his shoulder.
'Want me to fuck you, babe?'
'Please Terry.'
'Please what?'
'Please, I can't do this. Take your cock out of me.' Tears were running down his cheeks.
Terry pushed hard, and his large cock went in a further few centimetres. Stuyvessant squealed and arched his back, lifting Terry and himself off the ground.
'Sorry, babe. You said you wanted this, and now you've got it. You're being sodomised. I'm gonna fuck your arse. Ain't you a fag like me?'
'Oh God, oh God, please, please, stop. I don't want it.'
'What did you expect?'
'I just thought you'd touch me up, I didn't... ow, it hurts so much.' Terry made another malicious jab into Stuyvessant's anus and felt a third of his considerable length slide into the squirming body beneath him. He was a little disconcerted to discover he was enjoying what amounted to anal rape, although the guy had certainly asked for it.
'What game are you playing, Hampton? Why are you prick-teasing me and Andy?'
'Take it out, and I'll tell you.'
Terry coached Hampton into relaxing his anal muscles, and pushing down. Eventually Terry's cock slid out, and he sat back, pulling off the condom with a snap. Stuyvessant reached for his shorts, but Terry took them off him.
'Talk naked, you're more likely to tell the truth. Talk, and then you can have them back.'
'OK. OK. It's like this. I'm broke. My dad fired me from my job last month. Some cash went astray, anyway he's keeping it quiet providing I go without a fuss. I got nothing now but expensive tastes. Andy likes me and he's hungry for some love and attention, I thought I could get it on with him, y'know, and maybe he'd take care of me.'
'Jeez. But you're straight. You've never done it with another man, have you?'
'No. But I thought I could. It's just sex. But when you stripped me and touched me on my private parts it was so humiliating and the pain...'
'You wanted to try it out with me, didn't you, so you could see what it would be like with Andy, see if you could go through with it.'
Stuyvessant hung his head and nodded, ashamed. Terry sighed, 'So who's using who here?' He slapped Stuyvessant's buttocks and threw his swimsuit to him. He gratefully swarmed into it. He eyed Terry's member.
'Is Andy's that size?'
'I've heard it's a bit more modest, but still large for such a small guy.'
'It'd never have worked would it?'
'No. You're not much of an actor, but the worst thing is that you thought of it as sex, where for Andy it's always love that counts. He's far too good for you, Hampton.'
'What're you going to do?'
'Me? Nothing. Now I know you're no threat to my boss, I couldn't care less about you. Freeload all you like, just don't hit on my boss or I'll finish what I just started, though I won't use my cock.'
Stuyvessant slumped and then looked up at Terry. 'You love him, don't you?'
'Yes,' said Terry, simply. 'And anyone that comes between him and Matt had better watch out.'
A fortnight passed, and Peter was ready to leave hospital, the bandages were off his head and the scar disguised by the flop of his thick blond hair, even thicker and more beautifully tangled now. He looked like Heath Ledger as a boy. Only the pot and a certain stiffness when he moved indicated that Peter still had some way to go for a full recovery.
Terry and Andy drove him back. Peter was very chirpy, and reckoned that he had grown some in the past two weeks. Andy thought that perhaps he had, and when Terry measured the two brothers back to back, it was clear that Peter now topped him by an inch, whereas previously they had been of a height.
His father had appeared, and looked with some satisfaction at his two elder sons laughing together. He invited them up to his study and told Terry to wait. It was a good three quarters of an hour before the Peacher boys reappeared, without their father. Peter looked very happy, but Andy was a little pensive. Terry looked a question at him.
'Come out on the poolside, Terry. Life's just become more complicated.' Andy resumed when they had settled under one of the big spreading umbrellas. There was a cool breeze coming up the hill from the Pacific.
'Can I tell Uncle Terry?' Peter grinned.
'Uncle Terry? What are you on about?'
Andy raised his eyebrows. 'What's happened is that my dad is reorganising things and has asked me to take charge of Peter for the foreseeable. He reckons I've got more time for him than he has – which is true enough - and he knows that Peter has embraced the pink side, so he thinks that I'll have a better understanding as to what he's going through.'
'Ooh yes,' echoed Peter smugly, 'it's so hard what I'm going through.'
'Yes,' Andy continued drily, 'we've noticed. So Petey's now our responsibility.'
'Eh? Me too?'
'Yes, you too. You don't think I'm going through this on my own, do you? Dad's keen on you and the fact that you too are gay just adds to the attractiveness of the idea.'
'Oh.' Terry suddenly felt uncomfortable. He'd never thought that nursemaid would become part of his job description.
'It'll be great, Terry!' Peter enthused, 'we can go cruising together, you can coach me in oral and anal sex, and we can do joint dates.'
Andy looked horror struck, until Peter collapsed in tears of laughter, 'The look on your face, bro!'
'Little sod,' Andy grumbled, 'take him away from me this instant, O' Brien.'
Terry helped Peter up to his room, as Andy left to be driven by Jenna to a charity lunch event in the city, representing his father. He was going on to visit a poverty action centre on a fact-finding mission. 'Er, Terry?' said Peter a little cautiously. 'I need a shower.'
'Yes?'
'Let me put this more bluntly, I need you to shower me. It's been three days and I stink.'
'What?'
'S true, I can't do it on my own.'
'This is not in my job description either.'
'Someone's got to do it, and I'd rather it was you than Carlos.'
Terry looked at the boy and was well aware that this was a set up. He wasn't going to co-operate. 'Pete, I'm not going to be seduced, so give it a rest.'
'Can't blame a boy for trying.'
'Can't Jordan do the honours? I don't imagine that you could show him anything he's not seen already.'
Peter looked a little unhappy, 'Aah, a problem. Jordan and I have had a difference of opinion about where we're going with our lives. I was telling him how much I fancied the male nurse who gave me a really intense bed bath, and he got cross. Said I was a hoe. I told him he was naïve, and he went off crying. He's got a cool bod has Jordan, but he is a wuss. So until we make up, you gotta do this for me, Terry.'
'No I don't. Andy is your next port of call, I think, not me. That's what brothers are for.'
'Ughh.'
Terry found his tiny office in the service block and leaned back against the wall. It was time to get out of Santa Barbara. Peter had a hormonal fixation on him which might get them both into trouble eventually; Andy was deeply unhappy and badly missing Matt; Paul was unfinished business in England. Back to England it was then. But how to get Andy there. He banged on the wall behind him, and Mark came round the door.
'Boss?'
'Is there anything we need to do in England, Mark?'
'Er... not really. I'm working on the AP Trust at the moment.'
'AP Trust?'
'Andrew Peacher Trust... his father has just initiated a PP Trust, that's right... Peter. But the AP Trust is being inflated by money intended for a new tranche of charities in childcare, child health and welfare. We don't know where Mr Peacher senior wants it concentrated, in the States, or the UK or both. But I'm looking for mechanisms for grant application and award. Tricky to do it in two very different countries, believe me.'
'I believe you. OK, sorry to bother you.' Terry frowned. He needed some strategy here. He opened up his e-mail account. He smiled. There was the usual loving note from Ramon, which he answered immediately. There were a couple of other notes from friends in England wanting to know about the gay life in California. He grinned as he send them news of the perfect night with Travis; they'd never believe him of course.
With that out of the way, he began tapping the desk, thinking hard. Finally he found Matt's address and started writing out a thorough account of recent events for him. Matt needed to know how things had worked out, but he also needed Matt to open a dialogue with him. He wanted Matt to think of him as his agent in the Peacher Empire. It took him an hour before he hit the send button. He collected Mark and they drove out for lunch in a restaurant down the hill.
Over an incredibly huge club sandwich with fries, Mark cocked an eye at Terry, and started asking about the night with Travis. Terry obliged him by going into exhaustive detail and then demanded by way of return some account of what was going on with Jenna. Mark was not quite as obliging in terms of detail, but Terry got the impression that she was insatiable as ever, and that Mark was beginning to feel the pressure. They decided to escape each from their various woes in a lads' night out. Terry had lost contact with too many of his hetero mates, and felt something of a relief to be in a bar with someone whose designs on him were sexually indifferent. He liked Mark, who seemed to have no hangups at all about spending an evening out with a gay friend.
They ended up equally innocent at a multiplex watching the latest blockbuster, a month before it opened in the UK, as Mark observed with a certain satisfaction. Sitting sharing a tub of popcorn - which somehow tasted a lot better than the stuff you get in Britain - Terry choked as the adverts came up. There, his moody grandeur emphasised by the skilled lighting and black and white film, looming over him was a giant Matthew White, advertising some or other parfum pour hommes. He was apparently naked, draped in silk sheets in some Continental hotel, looking scarily sexy, quite as beautiful as the draped female supermodel next to him.
'Wow!' he said.
'Isn't that the boss's boyfriend?' asked Mark.
'And you can see why.'
'Bloody hell, even I can see why!' added Mark. 'The girl's gonna be disappointed though.'
'I suppose this means we'd better keep Andy away from the movies for the foreseeable.'
Mark groaned, 'Won't do no good. He's on a lot of billboards too, for Romanelli and this perfume stuff. It can only get worse.'
'No, worse would be when he records a song and it gets in the charts.'
'Why?'
'He's got a terrible singing voice. Oh wow! That was his bare arse I just saw.'
'How does it rate?'
'Put is this way: if God had an arse, it would look just like that. Flawless.'
'That good, eh?'
'Oh yeah... I gotta get me a video of that ad.'
Mark gave him a sidelong look, 'How do you rate .. y'know, mine?'
'Can't say, Mark. You lose friends that way. Shh! It's the trailers.'
They went afterwards to a bar down by the beach and sat out in the warm night, listening to the cicadas and a live band, and chatting to a group of Aussie girls on their world tour. It was a refreshingly ordinary evening out. They all slept alone in their own beds that night; Jenna came back home late, after dropping Andy off.
'Evening dress tonight, it's the university alumni ball,' said Mark over breakfast. 'We're all going, and Andy's a guest of honour.'
'Does he have to make a speech?' asked Jenna.
'Yes he does, poor lamb, but his dad's office is providing it. He was already nervous last night.'
'You're driving him and Mark, Jenna,' Terry decided, 'and I'll drive Peter. It's his first night out since the accident. Incidentally, if you're in a long sheer dress with straps, where do you put your gun?'
'I could tell you, but Mark would get excited.'
'Come on.'
'Strapped round my upper thigh, if you must know. Anyone who makes a pass at me will get a shock.'
Terry checked seating and times, and they all drove up to the mansion. Terry's inbox had a reassuringly long message from Matt. He opened it with some interest. It thanked him very sincerely for all the news. He had a few amusing, and one or two serious, things to say about Terry's report of the Travis encounter. He was much more reticent about Terry's forthright report of Stuyvessant's attempt on Andy's virtue, other than scolding Terry for bullying the poor man. But Terry smiled. He thought he detected an outrage on Matt's part that anyone should hit on his former lover. Good, he thought. Andy had told him that Matt was the jealous type and he intended to play on that. Otherwise, Matt had been a lot with Paul, who was a bit odd these days, he said. He put it down to it the impending assessment period. He also had some small bits of news about Steve and Dave Evans, who were having an off period, it seemed; again, he reckoned it was pressure of work. It ended with a barely veiled invitation to keep him up to date with what was going on in Peacherland.
Terry looked in on Peter, and exchanged banter for a half an hour. 'So is it incest when your half-brother washes your balls and your ass?'
'He did it?'
'Oh yeah. It was embarrassing. He put a swimsuit on, so I didn't even get to measure up my tackle against his. It would have been real fun if it'd been you Terry.'
'Fun for you maybe, but a real problem for me. Anyway, you'll have the fun of me dressing you tonight and driving you down to the campus. It's black tie.'
'Yawn. Why do I have to go? I'm not old enough for university.'
'You are old enough to represent the Peacher empire, however.'
Terry spent the rest of the morning going over the speech with a very worried Andy. He listened sympathetically, and tried to be a positive and appreciative audience. But he had to admit that Andy mumbled and would have done better if he had looked up from the script. He hoped the microphone would help. They lunched together downtown.
Andy looked at him disconsolately, 'Seen Matt's ads?'
'Oh yeah.'
'I didn't think they'd be those sophisticated continental ones with nudity and romantic lighting and stuff. He looked... amazing.'
'Guess so, if you like that sort of thing.'
'And the Romanelli ones on the billboards and in the magazines. Mark's making a collection of them for me... I know you think I'm pathetic.'
'No, boss. I get just as gooey myself. Are you getting proper plates of the shots made?'
'Yes.'
'Well can I have a copy of the one where you get a glimpse of his bum? I could fantasise over that for months.'
'For a sensitive bloke you can be really crude at times. That's my ex-boyfriend's bum you're planning to wank over.'
'I wish. Come on, boss. Firstly, for all your depression, he's not your ex-boyfriend yet. Nothing final was said. And secondly, don't you think it's really something that you actually had those heavenly pieces of meat in your hands for three years? Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, would give all they possessed to have been in your bed just for ten minutes.'
'Don't remind me. Paradise Lost.'
Terry felt a bit like shaking Andy by now, but he had to be more delicate, as he knew. But the pair of them were drips. He was on his way to feeling superior, when he remembered Ramon and cooled down a little.
At six he collected Peter's suit from the housekeeper and knocked on his door. The boy was sulky but made a show of enjoying being stripped of his sweatpants and tee shirt by Terry. 'Not changing my boxers?' he asked coyly.
'No,' Terry replied firmly. The shirt was a real trial to get on over the cast, and he folded the right sleeve back over it. The trousers and the rest were less problematical. He fixed the black tie neatly, and combed the thick fair hair with some satisfaction. He put a sling over the right arm and left the right sleeve of the jacket empty. The end result was a sulky but extremely beautiful teenage boy. They looked at him in the mirror, and Peter had to crack a smile. He turned and he kissed Terry sweetly on the mouth, who had no hesitation about kissing him right back and taking his time over it. He reckoned he'd earned it.
'Come on, gorgeous, let's get you out to your adoring public.'
They made their way to Terry's car, and waited for Andy, who appeared, looking very worried indeed. Jenna led the way.
The faculty club was packed, and the Chancellor was waiting on the steps to do the official welcome. Peter and Terry and the rest followed on. Andy was next to the Chancellor on the top table, while the rest of the Peacher entourage occupied a round table opposite Andy. Stuyvessant had left to find refuge with his mother in the Barbados. Peter had decided to be charming, in his unpredictable adolescent way, and Jenna and Mark were certainly charmed. Terry decided to make a dash for the loos before the speeches, and was just settling into a comfortable pee, when the door banged and he was joined by a very familiar face, also above a black tie.
'Travis!'
'Hello Terry. I said we might meet again.'
'I didn't think it would be this soon. Why are you here?'
'The Chancellor is my father. I know why you're here, at least. You're with the Peacher staff. You look fantastic.'
'You look unbelievable.'
'Thanks. Appreciate it. Incidentally, you stopped pissing some time ago, so you can put that piece of handsome meat away... unless you have something in mind?'
'I'm on duty, Travis.'
The boy pouted very attractively. 'Maybe later?'
'Oh yes. Later would be good. There's dancing, you know.'
'It would stun my dad if I went on the floor with you.'
Terry raised his brows, 'You've still not come out?'
'As far as home is concerned, no. Who're the people on your table?'
'Peter Peacher and my team.'
'Terry has a team? What do you do?'
'I'm Andy Peacher's chief of staff.'
'Oh! Ah right! I get it. He's gay isn't he, so he has a gay staff. But you can't all be gay, there was a woman next to you.'
'True.'
'Great job. If he needs a staff cocksucker, you know who to call. But he's got a real high profile boyfriend hasn't he? That snooty Brit model guy who's on all the billboards. I don't know what they see in him. Always looks like he's got constipation.'
Terry was getting annoyed; only he had the right to criticise Matt White, and nobody had the right to criticise his boss to his face. Travis abruptly began to bore him; he had learned to dislike bitchy queens.
'See you on the floor, Travis.'
The speech was not as bad as he had feared. And as he said to Peter, this was only the first time Andy had tried to do it. They applauded loudly, and Terry whistled until he was quelled by Andy's eye. The tables cleared and everyone moved next door to the ballroom. Terry breezed past Peter and lifted a glass of wine out of his hand, returning with a coke. Peter mouthed some very rude words at him, as he retired with Mark to the edge of the room.
'Jenna, my dear?' Terry said.
'Oh Terry, how kind,' she fluttered her lids, and they were off amongst the dancing crowd. Jenna was not half bad as a dancer, as Terry had suspected. They danced on and on.
'Let me guess. Ballet lessons until you were fifteen when you gave them up for boys.'
'You're too clever by half, Terry O'Brien. Perhaps you should dance and use your eyes at the same time. Where's the boss?'
'Dancing with the Chancellor's missis, and very well he does it too.'
'Good. And Peter?'
'He was with Mark.'
'But Mark's with that rather pneumatic dark woman over there.'
'Oh damn, damn, damn. Watch the boss. I'll be back.'
Terry moved off the floor and looked round. No Peter. Suddenly he had a bad feeling; he knew what he might have been doing when he was a teenager, given half a chance. He patrolled the corridors and found his way into the loos... a particularly familiar cruising area for him. The main loos were full and devoid of Peter, but he found a further set upstairs which were quite empty. The stalls had solid doors and no space underneath. He paused and listened. There was a shifting and jingling in the end cubicle, barely to be heard. He jammed the outside door with a chair. He took off his shoes and padded silently to the suspicious door. There was a familiar grunting and a high-pitched adolescent panting inside. Terry kicked the door. Two shocked faces looked up. Peter was squatting naked from the waist down on a completely naked young man seated on the toilet with his hands up inside Peter's remaining clothes. Judging from the preoccupation on the boy's face, he was trying to allow a dick inside him. Peter's partner was Travis.
He pulled Peter off Travis, who seems to have succeeded in inserting some of his length in the boy, judging by the sucking noise and a pained yelp from Peter as it withdrew.
'You complete twat,' he snapped at Peter.
'Lemme go, Terry, I was losing it at last. Don't interfere.'
'Iss my job to interfere. Especially where this predator's concerned.'
He deliberately pulled out his pistol and whipped Travis hard across the upper cheek with it. Travis gasped and gave a sob. Terry pushed Peter out, grabbed Travis's clothes from beside the toilet, stuffed them down the toilet in the next cubicle, and flushed it till it brimmed over. As Travis screeched and frantically hauled out his wet suit and clothes, Terry pulled up Peter's pants and trousers and got him properly dressed, then he marched him to the door.
'If I see you again you fucker,' he snarled at Travis, in tears as he desperately tried to wring the water out of his soaking clothes, 'I'll shove this gun up your arse and pull the trigger. Fucking a kid. How low can you go for a thrill?'
He pushed Peter out of the loos, hauled him by his arm down the stairs and out of the club house. Without a word, he force marched him into the car in the back lot. 'It's time for our serious talk, Pete.'
'I hate you, you bastard' came the cold reply.
'Hate me as much as you like, but you just broke the number one rule about cruising. You don't go bareback with a man you know nothing about.'
'He said he was safe.'
'That shit would say anything to fuck a juicy piece of arse like yours. You gotta use protection. You don't know what he had: warts, hepatitis, gonorrhea, or, God help us, HIV. It could have been anything. Pete... what can I say to you? I've picked up far more men than my fair share, but I've never done anything as lunatic as what you just did. Play around with Jordan and you know you're safe. But you can't trust a man who would say anything to seduce a virgin kid.'
'Not a kid.' Peter was crying now, long sobs. Terry relaxed and took him in his arms. Peter nuzzled into his shoulder, after a while he asked penitently, 'Do you think he was diseased?'
'Er no. I don't think he was.'
'How can you tell?'
'Cos I fucked him about a fortnight ago.' Peter sat up and stopped crying.
'What! Terry... I don't know whether to be impressed or outraged at your... hypocrisy.'
'Not hypocrisy. I covered up, but I noticed at the time how careful he was too. He's clean and he wants to stay clean, which is one reason why he wanted your virgin arse. Shouldn't that tell you something about what sort of man he is? Pete, he was using you as a fuck toy. How did it start?'
'We got talking and he was so hot and so all over me I just knew he was gay, and he was too. So I rubbed his cock through his trousers and it was straight up. Then he suggested we try the can. I just wanted him up my ass. Jordan wouldn't do it. He said he didn't want my shit on his dick.'
'Well Jordan was right. You're too young for anal sex, in my opinion. It's illegal for a reason. I couldn't get my cock up you, it would really damage you. Travis has a little prick, even so I bet you hurt like hell in your arse now.'
Peter shifted his backside and said, 'Yeah... but it's your fault, hauling me off of him like that. It felt like I was being pulled inside out.'
'You were. You wait till your next crap, gorgeous, you'll understand the pain of childbirth better than many men. Then there's the other thing.'
'What's that?'
'You're a public person. You're watched by some pretty unscrupulous people. Unscrupulous people will want to go to bed with you, just to sell their story. Finally, there's your family honour. Andy was really well-behaved and innocent, but look what happened to him. You ain't innocent in the least, and you're really begging for it. The trouble you and your family'll get in when you go cruising would be far worse.'
Peter began to look contrite. 'But the thing is Terry, my cock's on fire half the time, getting it off is all I can think about. It was OK when I had Jordan, but he was so tame. Just sucking off was all he would ever do. He shouted at me when I stuck my finger up his butt. I gotta have full sex. How do I find someone who'll do me and keep quiet?'
Terry thought of his own experience. 'You'll have to find someone, and if you weren't so stubborn you might get back with Jordan.'
'But I have found someone.'
'Who?'
'You Terry. You'd never tell. But you won't let me get near you. I'd love to do it with you, you're so big, so cute and so experienced and everyone says how brilliantly loyal you are. I jerk off just thinking about your buff bod.' He snuggled into Terry and his hands strayed to his groin, '... you're sooo big.'
Terry moved the boy's hand away. He was not going to be seduced by a randy teenager. 'Yeah Pete, and then there's another thing. Teens are so emotionally volcanic. If I shagged your arse, how long would it be before you got angry with me and went to your dad and complained that I'd fucked his little boy, just to teach me a lesson... a lesson that would land me in jail for ten years.'
Peter looked mulish, but sighed and then grinned, 'So, you think Jordan would go in me?'
'Yes, Jordan. You'll talk him up your arse eventually, you just need to get persuasive rather than angry with him. Far better that you do it with another teen, especially a kind and nice one like your Jordan, until you hit the twinkie stage, and then you can look after yourself so far as I'm concerned. Until then, remember I'm liable to shoot any casual pick up I find you with.'
Before he went to bed, completely drained, Terry enthused to Matt over the adverts by e-mail. An embarrassed reply came back the next day. It was, he said, the most bottom-clenchingly cringing thing he had done in his life. His agent had failed to tell him that being filmed naked was part of the deal. His legs had been waxed and his pubes trimmed beforehand, which had been excruciating and totally embarrassing. The French film crew were blasé about the nudity, but if his co-star hadn't been so funny about the whole thing he wasn't sure he could have gone through with it. The fear of an inopportune erection had almost paralysed him, and he couldn't help noticing that more than half the crew had got off on seeing either him or her in the buff. He felt cheap. The Italian shoot had been much easier, just still shots. Even so all the posing was new and didn't come to him immediately. One photographer had got pissed off with him, but the others were OK. And no, Terry, you can't have a signed picture of my arse.
Terry smiled and shrugged when he read the reply.
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