High Country Ch. 03 Pt. 02

Since Jeremy seldom restricted himself with underwear or drawers—he did sports straps occasionally—he had only to lift each foot out of the leggings and raise his bulky sweater over his head to be stunningly, rigidly nude. His nine inches matched the white Russian. The thing levitated bobbingly upward over the level plane, foreskin coyly shrouding the bare edge of the spongy, curving base of the corona.

The fat, round, snug nuts hugged the flaring base like lovers and it was a very good thing that I was familiar with its details as I managed only two blinks before it nestled to the short curly geometric pubic curls in the back of that Slavic throat, arched Slavic nostrils deeply inhaling the muskiness emanating from it on the way in. The man must have studied Houdini's techniques for holding one's breath, or perhaps the dickstroker simply had the lung capacity of an orca, because I, myself, nearly passed out for lack of air while watching and waiting for him to back the thick thing out of his gullet.

Basically, it never did. The whole head job.

Jeremy stood staring directly into my eyes the entire time, his sexy dark eyes dilated with the Go-Fast bump and glazed by the blissful longevity being accorded him via the deep throat. He shared the effect with me. Obviously possessing no gag reflex, Paecup's throat had visibly expanded by the outline of my man's swallowed shaft embedded in it but the pro never once winced, hiccupped, or hesitated in the delivery of the most unique blowjob I had ever witnessed. Or that J-Man had ever experienced. Jeremy, gentleman that he be, denied it was so later, in deference to me, but the truth was what it was.

What the sucker did do wasn't actually sucking; as the blossomed dickhead stretched down that throat, Paecup set his swallowing mechanism in to repetitive rolling motion. The effect caused a continual wavelike effect of his Adams' apple to roll for minute after minute, over and over the super-sensitized head, massaging the sponginess until a deep pirate sound like, "arrrggghhhh" escaped from Jeremy and the dick I loved began pulsating to the rolls as the extreme throat action forced his eruption without a single other stroke.

Jeremy's eyes rolled up in his head, his fingers clasped the close-cropped blond hair, holding the man in place- as if that was necessary- while the giant orgasmic release quaked and roiled through my man's senses. Every perfect muscle in his body appeared to be on high-tension squeeze mode. If I hadn't seen it myself, and instead only walked in at the moment of climax, I would've thought Dr. J- Kell were suffering a grand mal seizure...of utter euphoria.

As my pleasure rose in seeing the extended effect my Jeremy was deriving now, I could feel the pre-cum drip from my own dickhead. It stood straight and long in quivering readiness for my hand to stroke it, but I felt a hot tongue suddenly wrap around the tip and nurse the drippings.

We three had been so intent during our entry that we had failed to notice that the two young men sharing our home were lounging together on the recliner by the fire. The two had stayed silent, voyeuring us through the entire hot event, but upon seeing the unique climax and my ropy oozing, the two had both settled before me on their knees. Obviously intent on preventing my drippings from messing up the floor.

Now, the duo set to licking and massaging my hard-on, making it and me jump in delectation. I watched them enjoy themselves, each exploring the other's tight young body as they slobbered over my piece, but my eyes went right back up to the satyr in paroxysms before me just as he lowered his head to gaze over at me again, conveying the gratification he was feeling. He got to see my longmeat give in to the fervor as we experienced, in series, the other's amazing cum.

The boys' newness to each other and their just-now maturing libidos allowed for a mutual boy-orgasm while Bryce licked and swallowed my juices, the two lip-locking together around my shaft and then spraying all over each other in their enthusiasm. Four sated men stood or knelt with man-oozings covering us—oh, wait, make that five men, as we all four watched the still impaled Russian erupt in multiple jets of Eastern Orthodox bliss, too. I think that made a straight flush or five-of-a-kind, or something, by poker vernacular.

We all grounded with some more time and reveled together in the best pre-Hallowed Eve rite of passage ever. If they're watching, those saints and martyrs must be cumming, too, I figured.

That's it. I had finally hit on what all those denizens of Purgatory do, whiling away all that time in their wait for the pearly gates to open up. Pearly—get it? But, I digress.

A little embarrassed—like...not at all-- we five enjoyed the big upstairs shower together after Paecup's 'short interlude' and planned for the coming evening. The new couple accepted an invitation to join us in the Pierce-Arrow. Paecup extended one in Lady Carlotta's name, knowing she would love the company of four virile men. Jeremy leaned on the steaming wall jets under a cascading rainhead while I massaged the sore muscles after all that constricting and contracting. I was a fortunate man.

We finally descended to sort out mixed up clothing, playfully bombarding our new driver friend with his uniform. My black stud added, "Nice of you to stop Andropov a load, now Paecup your uniform and get back to work." Tucking in his shirt, he jounced down the front steps to the auto and waved that he'd be back...

I felt like a scene from the Walton's, all four of us on the front door deck waving good-bye to Paecup, half waiting to hear a voice from the open upstairs window call down, "Goodnight, John-boy..."

How homey we looked. Except for the fact that Jeremy was butt-ass naked with dangling going on and the two boys, in towels and draped all over each other, no, there was no discernible difference from the old Walton's show. My quip, "well, let's go in and have a little helping of 'the Recipe'," got me some mighty weird looks. I got the joke, anyway.

In the great room, we hunkered around the fireplace, as always, nursing some of the Recipe...errr... Old Fashioned cocktails. Jeremy had pulled Adolpho into his confidence about the coming attraction dubbed "The Mighty Tungsten Tuberosity' and the two were animatedly planning the transport and logistics over the mountain to Pandora Mine. Bryce, meanwhile, snuggled over to me on the huge leather sectional with his drink and asked, "could we talk, Dr. Cevennes?"

Uh-Oh, I thought, those words never had a good connotation, and I braced for a broadside. Were his parents suing us? Had Adolpho raped him? Or, was he pregnant? With the recent tragedies, I was kind of expecting something else bad.

"Of course, my man, but...what exactly is up with 'Dr. Cevennes' suddenly?" I asked him. "I mean, yeah, I am older than you and that is very respectful, and all, but good grief, Bryce, we have been suckin' each other's dicks and showering together...aren't we a little past the formalities?"

The wavy-haired youth colored a little and he stared right at me, "OK, sir...uhh, Luke (that was better), it's just that, well, I haven't ever known a real doctor—I mean, as a friend—or anything like that, and you guys have been so nice to me and everything..." he was stuttering through a prepared speech it sounded like to me.

What is really up, I wondered? He went on, "It's just that I'm so happy right now, even with all of the shit that's been goin' down, and...well, I'm just figurin' that this bubble has to burst pretty soon—am I gonna owe a bill, or something...?" I burst out laughing at the serious look on this cute boy's face. The others stopped and looked toward us. Seeing his face and my reaction, they were now listening.

"Well, Hell, Pearl, what are you thinking," I posed, "that you're checked into the Hotel California?" His blank look let me know that that had gone right over his head, so I took a breath and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, drawing him to me, "Listen, Bryce, I know that Jeremy and I are new to you, and this 'thing' going on with you and Adolpho must be so cool yet confusing. But don't think for a minute that there is any foot about to fall, here. JFK and me, we are just in love with Life, so when the unexpected happens our way, we just accept the serendipity of it all and make the best of situations. We both are convinced of the 'Tree of Life'."

"Are you worried how your parents are going to handle this—do you even still live at home?" I shut my mouth like a fuckin' kissing gourami suddenly. "For that matter, by the way," and I straightened up across from the youth for this, sticking my hand out, "I am Dr. Lucas Laughlin Cevennes, and this is my husband, Dr. Jeremy Fallsworth Kell. Yes, we both are. We are from Austin, Texas, and stay up here in Tride for as much of the time as we can. I am on sabbatical from my group practice for a few more months and Jeremy teaches, Philosophy, at the University of Texas, but not until the Spring Semester. How do you do? Would you care to join us in Life?"

I had pulled up short upon realizing that we knew next to nothing whatsoever about this person. That should be changed, post haste. Life is, indeed, a party, but there should at least be invitations, after all.

The young man fairly melted into me at this soliloquy, and when he looked back up, a single tear was somersaulting down his cheek. "Yes." Nothing more came out. I realized in a moment that he really couldn't talk, so we just sat there quietly for a little. Over my shoulder, Jeremy's big hand suddenly appeared on it, and Adolpho had stood and come up behind the boy, putting both hands on him.

My superman looked down at the both of us and said gently, "Bryce, I am so sorry. May we know who you are?" Adolpho's dark hands gently massaged his shoulders, and finally, Bryce took a deep breath, "I am Bryce Adams Canyon. I moved here to Telluride a year ago after my grandfather passed away in Seattle. I am working to get my degree in computer programming, I love mountain biking and I don't have any family. At all. I'm not sorry about that, it's just what it is, is all." And with that, the youthful Adonis leaned into me and bawled.

I think my heart swelled all up and burst at that moment. Jeremy, along with Bryce, sat down with us and we all just lost it for a while. Even Elvee and Suture, sensing the profundity, came up and lay down at our feet, communing with the pack. Hmmmmmm.

My drink tipped over between J-Man and me where I had forgotten it and we both jumped up, shattering the deepness. We went to get paper towels and on our return, found Adolpho and Bryce whispering together. Much as we didn't want to interrupt, the mess needed clean up, so we did. Jeremy managed to trail his middle leg, for once unintentionally, over Adolpho's arm in reaching past him and the Italiano reacted by slapping it. The thing boomeranged over and sideswiped Bryce's nose next, and the serious atmosphere evaporated.

Wow, I mused, as I studied the trio. How funny, the way that families are made.

An hour passed by and we finally roused ourselves from the very happy spiritual reverie, realizing that 'the car' would be coming by for us in an hour or so. The youngsters disappeared into their bedroom and we two hustled up to our own, spending a talkative shower time, again, just because we wanted to, discussing the situation in which we now found ourselves.

Coming out, we put on matching silver lame thongs over our gold wedding cockrings and mountain boots with wool socks all sprayed silver, then descended to get the grand assemblage underway. Magic peanut butter rolls for all were laid out to usher the four of us into the mood of the eve but not before Jeremy and I ogled the stunning young pair. Upon exiting their lair, they were now transformed and inhabiting the characters of Alexander the Great and his lifelong lover, Hephaestion Chiliarch.

The two were radiant in their mirroring attire, having appropriated matching calf-high sheepskin-lined leather lace-up boots, old ones from J-Man and my Santa Fe days. The briefest of matching bikini underwear sporting an over-sew of gold-hued aspen leaves minimally hid anything of their lean physiques. Matching evergreen brow-rings encircled their wavy hair. Bryce's tow-headed blondness contrasted sexily against Adolpho's sepia tones. Various temporary thigh, belly, dorsal and bicep indigo tattoos complemented the look. Matching red-lined, black leather full-length capes, found in our closet from days' past, completed their ensembles.

The two set a mood of Bacchanalian mindset by the sensuality oozing from their pores and they joined the two of us, singly. We figured if we could separate them we might be able to keep their hands off each other and pants on long enough to help us. Adolpho aided Daddy Jeremy with the intricately complicated Tungsten Tuberosity, while Bryce helped me clip together the clear plastic wedged shower door guards I had accumulated from the three hardware and bathroom supply stores in Telluride town.

We shaped the wedged pieces into a geodesic diamond shape that would easily fit over my head and enshroud my body from neck to crotch. Heavy-duty clear rubber-banding would hold the contraption in place, attaching to my neck, arms and each upper thigh. We covered the geometric beehive-like surface with a tight-stretched cover of sheer Glad Cling Wrap, then emptied the hundred other rolls of the sticky stuff, wadding them all into loose translucent balls which would then be stuffed strategically into the interior, capturing me inside.

Not see through, but enough so that it left a shimmery impression of my body, I looked in the mirror as Bryce positioned all of it evenly. The faceted appearance of a 'cubic zirconium' now personified itself. We fashioned a ring of thin, tawny (skin color), moldable straws from the hobby shop to snugly encircle my neck, then extend behind and above my head to a rounded hoop wrapped in tinfoil, makeshifting a halo, and I was ready.

I could put it all on and off, with a little help, in a matter of a few minutes at the mine entrance so as to allow freeness as desired, especially on the ride there. I was sure we would need the room with the five of us. We came out of the spare bathroom to an extraordinary sight: an entire human skeleton grinned at us, suspended on bony feet a few inches above the ground. As we came in, the spooky wraith began walking toward us, quite dexterously, arm, leg and neck joints working in synchrony.

Shadowing two feet behind it followed Jeremy, the managing puppeteer controlling the skeleton by attached equestrian riding crops, cleverly wired in tandem to allow five points of contact for motions like walking, pointing, waving, saluting, nodding etc... His own mesmerizing body was entirely golden and eerily phosphorescent. Head to toe, every supple tendon, muscle and ligament was on magnificent display. Above his shoulders was similarly glowing, the left half of his face and head hidden by a partial skull mask of pearlescent finish. His eyes had been outlined in Pharaonic manner, above and below in stark black kohl, his lips were blackened as well, projecting a macabre vibe when he smiled.

A set of spectacularly feathered silver sequined wings lay enfolded behind his back, curling over and then down behind his head from the gold-strapped attachment between his shoulders. As Bryce and I oohed and aahed at the aura of the whole vision, some controlling spring caused the up and outward spreading of the functional pair, ending in a hovering, glowing umbel, as widely arching as my man was tall. How in the world had my innovative man ever dreamt this up, let alone brought it to fruition? Adolpho stood at the back corner looking like a woodland satyr as he peered from behind the thing he had helped put together, almost as wowed by the effect as us. Of course he was being mooned, so there was that.

"Honey, you look amazing. I am sooo blown away," was all that I could come up with. "But, I do not even want to know where Mr. Bone came from." The wide grin wasn't giving anything away, as he preened through this unveiling. "How in hell are we going to get you there all in one piece, baby?" I exclaimed next as the size of the final product came into 3-D focus.

"Don't worry, Luke-man, this ain't just a fly-by-night show. I can get this thing on and off in five minutes flat. It can even fold up...or down, I mean. As long as you can put up with my gilded ass for the night— I may need some help getting the dye off, later. We covered...everything," winking at Adolpho.

"You've got to be kidding, JK, I am not letting you ever wash that off- you are a damn god. I fully intend to suck my first god dick tonight." Bryce noisily drew in his breath next to me and exhaled in total disbelief. "How did you two do this?" he finally managed, as he cooed at his new lover behind Jeremy.

Oh, newbie, you hain't seen nothin' yet. Wait 'til we get up to the mine," came the cocksure reply. But the triple-note horn bespeaking the royal's arrival pierced the dusk outside, and we all busted ass into disassemble-mode, forgetting to be curious.

Sure enough, we got Jeremy down to his glowing, gilded self by the time the Lady of the evening arrived up the steps. The Golden Orb glided gracefully through the room and with a dramatic flourish opened the heavy, arched door, reaching out to take hold of be-ringed fingers peeking inside.

We all stood back as first the fingers accepted the welcoming hand, then the rest of the Lady Saxe-Coburg inched forward, revealing none other than Liza Minelli in her transformed guise for the special night.

Short, spiked black hair with silver tips mohawked her heavily made-up, blood-red lipped doppelganger Liza face, a silver lame (how convenient) full body spandex leotard covered her flawless torso and arms, high neck hugging her to the tight-skinned chin. Thigh-high black leather, tasseled and spike-heeled boots stepped authoritatively over our threshold, coming to a sharply loud, staccato halt before Jeremy.

Her similarly black kohl outlined eyes widened as she perused the puppeteer's 24K envelopment, beginning at his face, stopping for a pregnant pause at the snake-stuffed silver thong, finally traveling downward to the exquisitely sculpted thighs and calves with silver-shod feet. "It would seem that our tastes tend toward a parallel, Dr. Kell," Liza wryly observed, "but we obviously fill things in differently...don't we?" As Jeremy's clothing consisted of a very minimal few square inches of cover, it was fairly evident to what she referred.

Ten aristocratically long glistening silver fingernails tipped fingers decked out this evening with every sort of silver ring and tinkling knuckle charm raised up and virtually outlined my man's form like a murder scene cutout. "My, but you do fix up nicely, Professor..." she thrummed seductively. Jeremy, raised one hand, took hers again, and turned her slowly to face the rest of us, who until this moment had not existed. She arched a single eyebrow as she scrutinized the three of us.

One side of her mouth rose up and her lips parted in a Liza smile-to-kill and she stepped forward. "My Good God and Save the Queen. Mr. Andropov informed me that we were to have company for the après soiree send-off but he did not let me know we were up-classing the 'Arrow... This entourage glitters more than a popinjay in the court at Versailles. How did I get this lucky, young men? Do we all wear the same dress size?"

That broke the ice for the bedazzled Adolpho and Bryce who had never traveled in an automobile of the sort we had described, let alone escorted the thirteenth person in line to the throne of England. This naughty vixen humanized the whole affair and I brought the boys forward to greet her.