Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2008

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Episode 93
Murray

 

This is Paul writing, at the insistence of Charlie.  But this isn’t going to be my story, rather it is the story of two really nice boys, Murray and Toppy.  You’ll understand why it fits into Charlie’s story in a little while.  Please be patient.

 

OK, Charlie has this thing about sexual autobiographies.  Actually, I think they turn him on!  Tim, too, but with Charlie it’s more obvious.  He has this insatiable interest in teen sexual experiences–when and in what circumstances did they first masturbate, first have gay or straight sex, first see the opposite sex naked?  You get the drill.  Obviously it provides vicarious pleasure, but what the heck, you people out there wouldn’t be reading this stuff if you didn’t have the same prurient interests, right?  So here goes with a little autobiographical crap, just for you and Charlie.  And Tim.

 

I grew up in the Hurley-Ironwood area.  Through elementary school we lived in Hurley and I went to school there.  Hurley is a pretty tough town; well, so is Ironwood, but Hurley has the reputation, and it’s well deserved.  In grade school (elementary school to you people born after about 1955) you were going to be teased and harassed by the bigger boys, and if you couldn’t take it your life would be miserable for years.  Routinely, beginning about third or fourth grade, being taken out in the woods and depantsed by the big sixth graders wasn’t uncommon.  It really wasn’t sexual as much as it was a power trip for them.  I remember a day in fifth grade when about ten sixth graders got six of us fifth graders in the woods behind the school.  We were told to take off all of our clothes or they’d beat the shit out of us.  We knew they meant it, so we stripped.  The problem was sixth graders really weren’t mature enough to know what to do with six naked little boys.  They made us grab each other’s dicks and pull them.  Then we all had to kiss each other’s asses.  Then the big boys pulled down their pants and made us kiss their asses.  Then they left us, with our clothes tossed all around the woods.  It wasn’t the kind of atmosphere that encouraged healthy attitudes toward sex, but it was a fact of life.  My parents had some idea of what was going on, though we never spoke about it–that would’ve totally violated the kids’ code of silence.  But I’m sure that that’s what was behind their decision to move to Ironwood, which got me into a different school.

 

It was a different environment, and the teasing, harassing, and bullying ended.  I think that it was good that I never experienced sixth grade in the Hurley school, because being the bully, rather than the bullied, wouldn’t have been good for me–or anybody.

 

In the summer after eighth grade I had my next experience that was in any way sexual.  I had a bunch of good friends, all boys, and we used to ride our bicycles out to a lake near town and swim.  We always swam naked. One day some of the boys got to talking about jacking off.  Clearly some of them had done it, and others, including me, hadn’t.  I was just learning what it was.  Somebody said, “Show us,” to one of the kids that claimed he’d done it, and everybody else chimed in with, “We dare you.”

 

He did, right there on the shore of the lake.  Nobody was around but us, and we all watched with great interest.  The next thing was, “OK, I did it, now it’s your turn.”  Well, we all took turns.  I hesitated and was one of the last to be  egged on into doing it. 

 

“Come on, Paul.  If we can do it so can you.”

 

“I don’t think Paul’s balls are big enough.  He can’t jack off.”

 

“Chicken?”

 

I was already naked getting ready to swim.  I grabbed my dick the way the others had.  By this time I’d watched enough that I was pretty excited, hard, and had a pretty good idea of what to do.  I did it.  My cum shot up on my chest and really startled me.  I think I shot farther than anybody else that day.  Later that summer somebody introduced the idea of a circle jerk, and we did it from time to time.  But sex wasn’t our main interest, and by the end of the summer the last childhood homosexual experience was behind me.  Girls were in front of me.

 

Actually, I had much more of a reputation for being a stud than I deserved.  By ninth grade I was dating girls, but without cars our parents drove us and we didn’t have many opportunities to do much.  We’d “make out” in the movies, and things like that, but it never went far.  I kissed most of the girls I dated, and fondled a lot of breasts through sweaters.  My hand even got under some.  They would usually respond by rubbing my crotch.  I think it was tenth grade before a girl unzipped me and actually touched my dick.  I almost came right there in the movie theater, but, thank God, I didn’t.  I wasn’t ready for that.

 

My junior year of high school I had my driver’s license and a girlfriend. Her name was Jill and we were convinced we were in love.  We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, and the car gave us the place to do it.  Almost every weekend night we’d give each other hand jobs in the car, the movies, or–come spring–in the woods.  But we never got more undressed than opening flies and lifting skirts, and we never fucked.  The summer after my junior year Jill made it clear that she wanted sex.  She wanted to be fucked, and if it wasn’t going to be me it was going to be someone else.  I told her that I wasn’t ready for that, and we broke up.  It wasn’t a friendly breakup, and we never spoke again.  My senior year I dated a lot of girls.  Some were really unhappy that I had limits on the sex and we’d break up pretty quickly.  Others seemed to like that, and we’d date again.  But I never got real serious with any girl.  When I had my big match with Jim, and met the Gang, I was a virgin. 

 

I didn’t make it through college as a virgin.  I had several girlfriends, never got real serious, but I slept with at least half of them.  My first was a girl named Sue.  She and two girlfriends lived in an apartment off campus, and I visited there regularly.  The apartment had two bedrooms, one with twin beds and one with a double bed.  Sue shared the room with the two beds, but the three had a simple arrangement.  If one of the girls had a boyfriend in for an evening, they got the double bed and the other two girls got the single beds.  If there were two boys around, the first pair interested in a bed went for the double, and the third girl would head for the other bedroom, leaving the last pair on the couch.  If all three had boyfriends over–not uncommon–the second couple to want privacy had to take the single beds.  I never pushed to head to the bedroom, and one night we were left in the living room, sitting on the couch.  Sue looked at me, started pulling off her sweater and said, “Paul, I want to be fucked.  It’s time.”

 

I guess it was.  She led the way, getting naked and then helping me to undress.  I think it was the first time I was completely naked with a girl.  I was hard as a rock and oozing precum before she even touched me.  She had a condom and rolled it onto my still hard dick.  Then she lay back, pulled me on her, and I had the experience of my life. 

 

We continued to date for a while, and I often was in her apartment, and often we led the parade to the bedrooms.  We explored different positions, and Sue took some delight in producing various kinds of condoms: colors, ribbing, you name it.  I’d bring my own, but she always pulled out something new.  Sue and I never broke up.  We just found that our interest in each other lessened.  One day she said to me, “Paul, we’ve never really had a commitment  to each other, and we’re growing apart.  That means that we can go our own ways without breaking up.  We can be friends, and maybe have a little tryst now and then.”

 

I responded with, “Like tonight.  Let’s have a goodbye fuck.”

 

We did.  On her couch where it all started.  We’d deliberately let her roommate and her boyfriend get to the double bed.  My dick was sheathed in neon green.  She rode me like a cowboy.  God it was sweet.  I don’t think I ever had sex that good until I met Amanda–and the Gang.

 

You pretty much know the rest of the story.  Amanda and I met in Ironwood while we were both teaching.  It was a casual friendship and grew into a deep love.  Amazingly, especially to us, we saved our first fuck for our wedding night, though neither of us were virgins, and we did almost everything else you can think of before we got married.  We have been totally faithful to each other, but found ourselves utterly astounded that we were participating in sex with the Gang.  Oh, wow.  We have both agreed that our experiences with almost everyone in the Gang have heightened the delight we take in sex with each other.  And whatever variety of sex we explored before we were married, or after, it’s been vastly expanded as we’ve learned from the Gang. 

 

When I watched Tim fuck Amanda for the first time I couldn’t believe it.  She was absolutely wild.  It equaled or exceeded our wedding night.  I came in my briefs as I watched.  Was I jealous?  Maybe a little, at first.  But then I realized that my greatest gift to Amanda was her freedom, and that was her gift to me.  I say we are faithful; we don’t ever have sex outside the Gang, and never without our partner knowing.  It works for us.  And we’ve grown closer to each other for the time we’ve spent with the Gang!  Thank God for Tim and Charlie, and all the rest.

 

OK, Charlie.  That’s what you wanted, right?  I hope you at least got hard reading it, and if you creamed your pants, all the better.

 

Let’s fast forward to the fall of 1978, early October if my memory serves me correctly.  One of my  wrestlers, Murray Saragan, came to me to talk one lunch hour.  It was clear that he had something on his mind that he was reluctant to share.  I gave him time, and eventually he got up his courage to say that he was gay.

 

That wasn’t a big deal for me, but it clearly was for Murray.  I’m pretty sure that, except for his parents, I was the first adult he had shared that with, and there had been very few of his contemporaries that had been told.  I asked him why he was telling me at that particular time, and he broke into tears.  I asked what the matter was, and he could hardly get it out.  “I told my parents about a week ago and they threw me out of the house.”

 

“My God, where have you been living?”

 

It took a while to pry loose the answer to that, but it turned out that he’d been sleeping in the park.  A little more questioning got his story out.  He had a lover, Toppy Coleman.

 

I know, Toppy’s an unusual name, but that was what everybody called him; I have no idea what was on his birth certificate.  He was the drum major for the band.  I wouldn’t have guessed that he was gay.  Hell, I hadn’t guessed about Murray either, and I coached him every day.  Toppy had been letting him use his house to shower and get cleaned up, and Toppy was storing some of his clothes and a few things.  But Toppy was afraid to let him sleep there, as his parents had no idea he was gay or that his friendship for Murray was more than casual.

 

Then things got worse.  Toppy decided that he needed help and so he confided in his parents.  They reacted worse than Murray’s had.  There was yelling, screaming, swearing.  He was told to get out of the house right then and there.  That was the day before Murray appeared in my office. The two boys had spent the night before sleeping in the park, and come to school dirty and exhausted and at the end of their ropes.

 

I asked Murrary where Toppy was.  He told me that Toppy was trying to see Mr. Farley, the band teacher.  They got on well, and he hoped that he might get help there.  The two boys had decided that each would approach the teacher he knew best and trusted most, and that maybe they’d get the help they needed.

 

I knew Abe Farley and figured that he’d be sympathetic when he heard the story.  I picked up the phone and called the music office, but I reached another of the music teachers.  He told me that Abe was in with a student and couldn’t be bothered.  I asked if it was Toppy Coleman and was told that it was.  “Break in on them, it’s crucial, and related to Toppy.”

 

Soon Abe was on the phone, but Toppy hadn’t gotten as far with his story as Murray had, and Abe didn’t yet know any of the story beyond Toppy being gay–which Abe had guessed at least a year before.  I told him, “Look, Abe, tell Toppy that Murray is with me and that everything is OK.  Then the two of you  come down to the gym and we’ll talk, it’s more private here.”

 

Soon we were all together in my office, and more details started coming out.  Toppy had been locked out of his house, but Murray still had a key to his and could sneak in in the afternoon after school to get clothes and things.  He had no idea how long that would last.  Toppy had rung the doorbell that morning and been greeted by his father who said, “Go away, I don’t know you.”

 

Both of the boys were seventeen, still minors, and it was a criminal act to throw them out of their houses with no place to go.  But the boys were adamant that they didn’t want anything reported to the police, because they didn’t want to be picked up by the juvenile authorities, or whatever agency dealt with abandoned children.  They were ready to make their way in the world, but needed help.  Neither Abe nor I felt we were capable of giving them the help they needed, but didn’t know exactly where to turn.

 

I told the two boys, “OK, we won’t tell anyone what you have told us in confidence unless you tell us we can.  But it’s going to take more than the four of us to work this out.  First, can I tell my wife, Amanda?” 

 

They said, “Yes.”

 

Abe said, “I’m single and live alone, so there’s nobody at home for me to need to tell.”

 

I said, “OK, how about the Principal, Mr. Doyle?”

 

Murray was no dummy, “Wouldn’t he have to tell the authorities?”

 

“He has the same legal obligation that I do, and I’m not exactly sure what that is to be honest.  But you’re right, he’s likely to feel an obligation to call the police, or someone.  That’s probably what Mr. Farley and I should do.”

 

“You promised you wouldn’t,” wailed Toppy.

 

“We gave our word, we won’t without your permission.  How about Mr. Jessup, the guidance counselor?  I’ll be glad to talk to him without mentioning your names and ask if he’ll honor the confidentiality of your conversations with him.”

 

“OK.”

 

I walked to David Jessup’s office, and briefly outlined the situation, without mentioning which two boys were involved or that homosexuality was behind the problem, though he probably guessed.  “I can honor their request that the conversation be confidential,” he replied.

 

“Then can you come down to my office in the gym as soon as possible?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Meanwhile, Abe had called the office and indicated that Murray and Toppy were with him and would miss their afternoon classes.

 

There were now five of us in my office.  I asked the boys if they’d prefer that I bring Mr. Jessup quickly up to date, and they seemed relieved that they wouldn’t have to tell their stories over again.

 

Jessup listened to their stories and said, “OK, there are two issues here.  One, you guys have had a pretty traumatic experience.  Just being gay is a big deal; having parents who are incapable of dealing with it compounds the problem.  You probably need more than a guidance counselor; you need to be talking to a trained psychologist, or a least a counselor trained to deal with your issues.”

 

“We don’t need to be talked out of being gay.”

 

“Oh, no, guys, that’s not what I meant.  It’s not being gay that’s a problem, it’s dealing with a world that’s ignorant about gayness.  It may be that as you get older you will discover other sides of your sexuality, but that isn’t the point.  You’ve been through a very traumatic experience, and need to cope with it.”

 

More for the benefit of Toppy and Murray, I asked, “What’s the other issue?”

 

“That’s obvious.  Food and shelter.  And that’s the immediate issue.  I just want Toppy and Murray to understand that as we talk about their physical needs, we aren’t going to forget their psychological needs.  But eating and sleeping is first.”

 

I said, “OK, there are two absolutely immediate needs.  First, they need a place to sleep tonight.  Second, they need to get clothes and important belongings out of their houses.  That doesn’t seem to be a problem for Murray, if he has a place to take the stuff.  That’s a problem for Toppy.  As for sleeping tonight, they can come to my house.  I’ll call Amanda, but I’m sure she won’t mind.  We have a guest room available.”

 

Jessup said, “Look, I feel foolish asking this question, but there are some legal issues here, and you don’t want to put yourself at risk.  This guest room, does it have two beds?”

 

“Yes, twin beds.”

 

Murray said, “What’s this about beds?’

 

Jessup said, “You’re minors.  You might as well get used to the fact that the law is both homophobic (though that is slowly changing) and protective–I’m sure you’re going to feel it’s overprotective–of minor children.  Paul simply cannot invite you to his house to share a bed.  But he can put two teenage boys in a room together with twin beds.  Don’t say it; I know it sounds silly.  But you don’t want Paul to get in trouble for helping you, do you?”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

I told them, “In which bed you sleep makes no difference to me, and I don’t intend to ask.  But both beds better look slept in tomorrow.” 

 

Jessup said, “Paul, can you take Murray to his house and let him go in and get his stuff.  Don’t you enter the house.  Watch him go in, meet him at the front door as he carries stuff out, and you carry it to your car.  I’ll go with Toppy.”

 

“I don’t have a key.”

 

“You could break in; it wouldn’t be criminal since it’s your house.”

 

“Was my house.”

 

“It still is, at least according to the law.  But we’ll wait until someone’s home.  I’ll simply explain that you want your clothes and belongings, and that if you don’t get them the police will have to be involved.”

 

“No police!”

 

“Threatening isn’t calling.  I don’t think your parents will call our bluff.  If I call the police they’ll spend the night in jail.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“Child abandonment is no small matter.  We need to talk about when and if we go to the police.  But I understand where you are and we promised confidentiality.  We’ll honor that.  But we do need to talk.  But that’s for tomorrow.”

 

I said, “OK, Mr. Farley and I have some responsibilities in the school this afternoon, and I’m sure that Mr. Jessup does as well.  You boys have been excused from classes for the afternoon.  Head into the locker room, take nice showers, and then go into the wrestling room and snooze on the mats.  You have got to be behind on your sleep.  We’ll come get you when school’s out.”

 

The five of us gathered again after school.  Abe couldn’t stay, as he had band practice to lead.  I invited him to join us for dinner and he agreed.  I set out with Murray for his house and Jessup and Toppy set out for Toppy’s house.

 

As expected, no one was home at Murray’s and he easily carried out all of his clothes, books, HiFi, records, and assorted shit that teenagers value.  It filled the car.

 

It wasn’t a pleasant scene at Toppy’s house.  As soon as Dave Jessup realized there would be a problem he sent Toppy back to his car to wait.  Then he took the gloves off with Toppy’s parents and said that if they didn’t allow Toppy to get his things the police would be called, charges would be brought, child abandonment would be easily established, it would make the newspapers, and they’d go to jail that night, and he, Jessup, would urge the prosecutor to seek a bail high enough to keep them in jail at least until Toppy’s situation was sorted out, and that might be months.  They got the point and let Toppy in to get his stuff, and Murray’s  things that Toppy had been storing for him.

 

We all met back at my house, and Amanda I and invited Dave to stay and eat dinner with us, along with the boys and Abe who was expected soon.  The boys were a little surprised to find that Amanda was very pregnant–about seven months.  Abe and Dave, of course, knew that she was expecting.  It was cute to watch Toppy and Murray being so solicitous of Amanda.  They hopped up to carry everything they could, helped her with her chair, and insisted on doing the dishes.  It was very clear to the adults present that these were two very fine young men.  We had a hard time believing what their parents had done to them.

 

On the other hand, this was a rough and tough mining and logging community, that was struggling to face the changed economy of the northwoods–mining was virtually gone, logging was a minor blip on the radar screen, and recreation was the backbone of the economy.  Both of the boys’ fathers had been loggers, and still did that in the winter.  In the summer they worked as maintenance men at several of the resorts.  It was a tough life and they were hard pressed to make the payments on their little houses and keep their families together.  Both of their wives worked part-time to make ends meet, but while that put food on the table it also undermined the men’s self-esteem which was based on their understanding of the role of the male–to be the provider for his family.  So, evenings were spent in the local bar, or across the state line in one of the vast number of bars in Hurley.  Not an environment that fostered clear thought about faggots.  Neither of them could deal with the idea that the word described their sons.  While I think that the boys’ mothers might’ve been more open to their sons, they were totally subordinate to their husbands.  The boys might’ve done better to tell their mothers separately from their fathers, but that isn’t what happened, and it couldn’t be undone.

 

So we talked around the dinner table about where the boys would go from here.  Even though we had a pretty good idea of the consequences of the invitation, we did suggest that the boys ought to get their stuff out of my car and Mr. Jessup’s.  It was carried into our basement, and the clothes they’d need for the next day or so were carried to our guest room.

 

We reassembled in the living room and Jessup asked a key question, “When will you boys turn 18?”

 

Toppy said, “December fifteenth.”

 

Murray said, “May eighteenth.”

 

Dave Jessup said, “I think we need to get a lawyer involved.”

 

Both boys said, “No, we don’t want that.”

 

“Boys, a lawyer, your lawyer, has a legal obligation to treat what you tell him as confidential.   Paul here, Mr. Weeks, and his wife are going way out on a limb to have you spend the night and store your stuff.  They need legal guidance, and so do you.”

 

“OK, we understand,” said Murray.

 

I said, “I think we should get someone not connected to the school.  One of our neighbors is an attorney, let me see if he’s home.  If he is, maybe he could come over here this evening.

 

About an hour later, J. Franklin Ulrey, rang the doorbell.  I knew him only slightly, having chatted with him during lawn cutting, leaf raking, or snow shoveling seasons.  “Come in Frank; thanks for coming over.”

 

“Well, how can I be of service?”

 

“First, I want to introduce two boys, Murray Saragan and Toppy Coleman.”

 

“I know Toppy, at least I know who he is.  My boy Alec is a ninth grader in the band, and we all know the drum major.  Glad to meet you Toppy.”

 

“And you, sir.”

 

“I don’t know Murray.”

 

“Murray Saragan, Mr. Ulrey.  Thank you for coming.”

 

“Frank,” I said, “both of the boys are age seventeen.  They’re going to tell you a story that they want kept confidential.  Am I right that we need to clearly establish an attorney-client relationship before they tell their stories.”

 

“Paul, you aren’t as dumb as you look when you’re out shoveling snow with a shovel instead of a blower.  Yes, I have copies of my standard attorney agreement with me.  I need a separate one for each boy.  For now we’ll just cross out the fee paragraph and I’ll write, ‘To be negotiated.’  Boys, for tonight there is no fee.  After that we’ll talk when we need to, OK?”

 

“OK.  You know we don’t have much money.”

 

“We’ll talk when we need to.  You don’t owe me a penny until we have some kind of specific agreement.”

 

The papers signed, including permission for Ulrey to talk to Abe, David, Amanda and me about the case, the boys told their story.

 

When both boys were finished Frank looked at me and said, “You’re really putting yourself on the line for these boys.”

 

“They need somebody.”

 

“Yes, they do.  Boys, I hope you understand how much Mr. and Mr. Weeks are doing for you.”

 

“Oh, God, we do,” said Toppy, while Murray nodded his head.

 

“OK, boys, here’s some immediate advice.  First, we need to talk about sex.  I can’t ask you about it while these four are present, because they aren’t covered by the attorney-client privilege.   So I’m just going to assume that you have a sexual relationship, a physical one.  Don’t respond.  Now, it has to stop until you’re both 18.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t talk, just listen.  I’m going to assume that you’re both randy teenagers and aren’t likely to heed that advice whether it comes from your parents, your lawyer, your teacher, your best friend, whomever.”

 

We all chuckled at that.  Clearly we’d gotten the right man to be their lawyer.

 

“So, here we go.  If, on the off chance you don’t heed the advice of your lawyer to discontinue all physical sex until you’re both 18, then you must: First, be totally discreet.  Second, make sure you limit yourself to places where there’s absolutely no chance of your being caught.  Third, don’t say anything to anyone about what you’re doing; no exceptions.  Fourth, don’t get your partner pregnant.  Oh, I guess that’s a different lecture.”

 

We all laughed, and the joke seemed to relax the boys.

 

“Now, I’m trying to think through the legal ramifications of your staying in this house, even for a night.  And it seems perfectly clear to me that nothing’s going to be resolved in the short term, so I’m going to presume that you’ll be here for more than one night.”

 

He put his hand up as Amanda and I, and both of the boys, started to protest.  “Let’s just make some assumptions here, sort of like we did about the physical sex.  If they don’t prove correct, thinking out loud won’t have hurt us.  Paul and Amanda, you can’t have these boys here more than one night without some regularization of their status.  We’ll call the first night an emergency, but after one night we can’t plead emergency any longer.  The authorities need to know what’s going on, and Paul your school needs to know what’s going on.  You simply can’t have a student living  with you without the Principal knowing about it.”

 

Murray and Toppy started to speak, but Frank told them to just listen for a while.

 

“You all need to cover yourselves legally, without this becoming a public case, which is what the boys want to avoid.  I know Judge Simpson of the District Court over in Bessemer (the county seat).  I’ll talk to him tomorrow and let him know what’s going on.  I’m pretty confident that he’ll simply file it in his memory and do nothing.  On second thought, I think he’s likely to want to meet with you boys, first alone, and then with Mr. and Mrs. Weeks.  I wouldn’t be fearful of the situation, boys.  But if he doesn’t think we can keep a lid on this, we’d better go along with him.”

 

Toppy said, “We’re scared.  And no matter what, we don’t want our parents in jail.”

 

“The only way we can be sure to keep a lid on this is if you boys leave town.  Most kids in your situation hitchhike to a big city.  They end up selling the only thing they have, their bodies.  The luckier ones end up only seriously damaged, physically and mentally.  The rest end up dead.  A few, the really lucky, get rescued, and some few find their way home–which may, or may not, solve their problem.  It isn’t a pretty picture.  You have no idea how smart, and lucky, you were to go to a teacher first.  But now I’m asking you to trust us.  We’ll do the best for you that we can.  Paul, tomorrow, you need to have a private conversation with your principal.  Take David Jessup along; he’s their guidance counselor.  But don’t go until I’ve talked to Judge Simpson.  If you can tell the principal that the Judge is aware of the boys’ case, I think you should have no problem.”

 

Judge Simpson did meet with the boys the next day during his lunch hour.  After a very brief introduction, he met with them alone, even asking their lawyer to absent himself.  Frank considered this, and decided that cooperating with the Judge was the most important thing.  The boys seemed capable of holding their own.  Later they told us that the Judge listened to their story; demanding many details.  Then he told them that he was proud that they’d taken the course of action they did.  “I hope that you’ll always be able to trust your teachers.  And trust your instincts about which teachers you can really trust.  Clearly both you boys did well in that regard.  There’s no case here before this court, so there’s no action for me to take.  But I’m going to ask you both to do one thing for me.  Each of you, on your eighteenth birthday, write me a letter.  Just tell me how you’re doing, and let me know that all is well.  Then I can close the case in my mind, even if there never was a case in my court.  OK?”

 

“OK, sir,” they both said. 

 

Frank was invited back in and Judge Simpson said to him, “Frank, I don’t know why I was involved in this.  There’s no case before my court.  All of you run along now.”

 

My conversation with my principal was a little touchier.  He felt that he needed to call the county Children’s Services.  I reminded him that this wasn’t a case of sexual abuse, and that was all the law required him to report.  I just wanted him to know that Murray and Toppy were living with me for a while.  He thought that over for a few minutes and said, “OK, Paul.  Since Judge Simpson knows about this and hasn’t involved the police or children’s services, I won’t.  Please make sure this doesn’t blow up on us.”

 

“It’s much more likely to blow up if we get the authorities involved.”

 

Murray and Toppy were completely relieved that things had worked out well.  But at dinner they asked us, “OK, we made it through the day.  We kept the police out of it.  Where are we going to live?”

 

Amanda beat me to it, “Right here.  That guest room can be your room until you graduate in June.  I’m going to need built in babysitters, beginning in December.”

 

Murray headed for me and Toppy for Amanda.  We were hugged and thanked again and again.  Well, reader, did we have a choice?

 

Frank came over that night with a simple question, “Do either of you boys have any money?  A bank account?  Anything?”

 

Toppy said, “Yes, sir.  I have a savings account where I’ve put what I earned the last two summers.  What do we owe you?”

 

“Not a thing.  But we need to talk about money.”

 

Murray said, “I don’t have a bank account, but I have about $400, mostly in quarters, in my bank.  It was one of the things I got from the house yesterday.”

 

“Murray I suggest a bank account, but right now I’m glad it’s in cash.  Toppy, I think you need to close that account.  Legally your parents can access it.  How much is in the account?”

 

“About $3,000.”

 

“I suggest that you withdraw $750 every day this week, until you get it down to about $75.00.  Then wait a couple of days and close it out.”

 

“Why not just go close it out?”

 

“They’ll want to give you a check.  If you want to stay completely clear of your parents, stick with cash.  I recommend that you keep the cash hidden in this house until your eighteenth birthday.  Then go deposit it in another bank.  Don’t tell Mr. or Mrs. Weeks where it is, but tell Murray.”

 

“Why not tell the Weeks?”

 

“They don’t want to be involved in your financial transactions.  That way if they’re asked, they have no idea about it.”

 

“What if they ask Murray?”

 

“He tells whoever asks that it’s none of their business.  He can’t get in trouble.  I don’t like recommending storing a lot of cash, but in this case it’s best.  I could hold the money for you in an escrow account, and if it were a bigger sum, or for a longer period, I’d suggest that.  But $3,000 till December 15^th isn’t a problem.”

 

And so they settled in.  Our household became four, and on January 8, 1979, it became five as Jeanette NMI Weeks joined the family.  Amanda and I were kidded about the lack of a middle name or initial.  But we’d agreed that middle names were a nuisance; most kids didn’t like theirs, and girls lost them when they got married anyway.  Amanda was most insistent that the middle name and initial would give Jeanette three different names: Jeanette Middle Weeks, Jeanette M. Weeks, or Jeanette Weeks.  Which would she be?  With no middle name or initial her name was unambiguous.

 

The boys shared the guest room, always keeping it neat.  They were wonderful helps around the house, ate like horses, and became part of our family.  They never heard from their parents and didn’t try to call them.  We discussed whether they should inform their parents where they were, but decided against it.  If they knew, they knew.  So what?  If they didn’t know, it put them at an even greater disadvantage if the authorities got involved.  “You don’t know where your son is, and you haven’t reported him missing and haven’t made any attempt to find him?  He attends school every day, he wouldn’t have been hard to find!”

 

Toppy breathed a major sigh of relief on his birthday, and in May Murray did as well.  So did Amanda and I, because with both the boys now legally adults, all of the possible legal issues of their living in our house disappeared.  On his birthday, each boy wrote–without prompting–a very nice letter to Judge Simpson, telling how his life was going, and thanking the Judge for his support and kindness.  Each got back a very nice, personal letter, encouraging them to move forward in life, and offering to be a character reference for them whenever it was needed in the future.

 

Murray was offered a wrestling scholarship to Mankato State University in Minnesota.   Toppy applied for and received a music/band scholarship at Northern Michigan University in Marquette.  Murray had applied to Northern Michigan as a back-up, but since they didn’t have a intercollegiate wrestling program, he didn’t really want to go there and had no chance for a wrestling scholarship.  The boys were determined to go to the same school.  Well, Northern Michigan didn’t have wrestling, but Mankato did have a band.  Toppy talked to his band teacher, Mr. Farley, who made several phone calls and finally found one of his fellow UP band directors who was a graduate of Mankato State.  In this world, who you know counts a lot, and his colleague’s phone calls to his former band director in Mankato led to a quick evaluation of Toppy’s audition tape, and Toppy found himself on the second list of band scholarship recipients.

 

The boys would be heading to Minnesota and would be roommates.  They were confident they could get jobs that would cover their room and board.  The scholarships covered full tuition for Murray and most of it for Toppy, who also got an out of state tuition waiver.  It looked like they were set, but we wondered about the summer. 

 

Not long before their graduation we got a letter from Tim.  It was addressed to the entire Gang.  He and Charlie would be tied up in Grand Forks for the summer, getting ready to take over the presidency in the fall.  I still get goose bumps when I think of that.  Tim, that wonderful boy who cheered on Jim, and later me, as we wrestled.  Who wowed the world with his diving and gymnastics.  Now he was going to be the president of a university.  And Charlie the Dean of Law.  And I knew them when!  And I’d slept with them.  So had Amanda.  It made me lightheaded to think about it.

 

But I digress.  Tim’s letter went on to say that all of the Gang were invited to make use of the Pike Lake cabin as much as we liked–pot luck on sleeping arrangements–except for the last week of June when he and Charlie wanted to be alone at the cabin.  Ronnie and Hal’s families would be there the last two weeks of July while Ronnie and Hal were at camp.  Charlie and Tim would be back the last week in July to join them, but there was room those weeks for lots more.

 

I called Tim, briefly told him the story of Murray and Toppy, and wondered aloud if they might stay at the cabin that summer.  “Tim they could be your caretakers, and do a lot of work fixing the place up.  They need a place to live and this would give it to them.”

 

Well, what did you think Tim would say?  “Wonderful.  I don’t want to pay them, because that gets into all kinds of business with domestic employees.  But we’ll cover all the food costs for the cabin, if they’ll do the buying.  They don’t have a car, do they?”

 

“No.”

 

“OK, they have to have one to survive at the cabin.  They’ll have to be able to get to town.  Charlie and I would love to have a Jeep there.  So we’ll buy one and drive it over in early July.  We’ll leave it at the cabin permanently, and the boys can use it this summer.  From what you say they’re responsible kids and won’t abuse it, right?”

 

“I’ll vouch for them.  And I’ll drive them over to the cabin on your last day and introduce you.”

 

“Bring Amanda and Nettie and come the evening before.  Are the boys  willing to be baby sitters while the four of us go skinny dipping?”

 

“They’d love to, except they’ll want to go skinny dipping too.”

 

“We’ll work it out.”

 

The boys were delighted with the idea.  I think they were getting tired of living in one fairly small room and sleeping in twin beds (more than likely a twin bed, but they were careful to avoid that subject with us, even after they were legally adults).  When they first heard of the idea of friends of ours letting them stay in a lake cabin for the summer, in exchange for caretaking, they thought it was a great idea, but they were focused on the idea of the cabin.  Then they asked who these friends were.

 

“Tim and Charlie.”

 

“Tim and Charlie who?  Who are they?  Where do they live?  What do they do?  How do you know them?”

 

“Tim, just plain Tim, and Charlie, just plain Charlie.”

 

“Is that supposed to mean something to us?” asked Toppy.

 

“Yes, or maybe you’re too young.”

 

Murray tumbled.  “I’ve heard of one Tim and Charlie.  He was an Olympic diver and Charlie was his gay partner.  I think he was an archer.  But who are you talking about?”

 

“Tim was also an Olympic gymnast, remember?”

 

Toppy tumbled.  You’re talking about THAT Tim and Charlie?”

 

“I think you’re getting the idea.”

 

“How do you know them?”

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“You have to tell it.”

 

You know, one of my greatest pleasures in life is telling the story of Tim and Charlie and how I came to know them, be mesmerized by them, love them, and continue to be part of their Gang.  Telling these two boys, gay boys who had suffered so much just for being gay, was a special joy.  It took me more than two hours that evening, and Murray and Toppy hardly moved a muscle during the whole telling.  Amanda joined us when Nettie let her, and shared her parts of the story. 

 

When we got to the trip we made to Camp While Elk we both paused.  Just how much were we going to tell them of the Gang and sex.  We decided that we’d better let it all hang out.  These boys had trusted us with their innermost secrets, we could trust them.   And they needed some background before they met many of the Gang over at the cabin.

 

Toppy sat wide-eyed as we told of our sexual adventures with the Gang.  We didn’t get into physical details, but were pretty frank about the sexual relationships.  Toppy said, “I don’t believe it.  My coach is the swingingest guy in the school, and he swings both ways.  The guys have you figured for a total prude, Coach, and they’ll never know how wrong they are.”

 

“They’d better never know.”

 

“Not from us,” said Murray.

 

Toppy said, “After that, and since we’re now adults, we can own up to our activities.  As you have probably guessed, we sleep together every night.  And we do more than sleep.  Oh, my God, Coach, and Mrs. Weeks, I do love Murray.  The idea of trying to go to sleep without Murray in my arms would kill me.”

 

I asked, “Just what part of Murray is likely to be in your arms?”

 

Amanda laughed.  Toppy got brave and said, “One of his legs.”

 

We all laughed.

 

Amanda said, “I’m going to warn you about one person in the Gang.”

 

I wondered who she was talking about as she continued.  “One of the girls, well, women, is named Judy.  She’s married to a really handsome guy named Jerry.  Her greatest joy in life is staring at Jerry naked.  She’s likely to say, ‘Jerry, take off your clothes’ at any time they’re sufficiently private.  Having members of the Gang around doesn’t slow her down.  It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t take a look at you two equally handsome young men and ask you to do the same.  Be ready.  And go for it!”

 

“Amanda!  I don’t really think the boys are ready for sex with the Gang.”

 

“Paul, I’m not talking about sex.  I’m talking about beauty.  Judy knows beauty and loves to see it.”

 

I looked at her and saw a gleam come into her eye.   I knew what was coming and decided to just let it happen.

 

“Boys, take off your clothes,” came out of her mouth.  Not a plea, not an order, just an expectation.

 

The boys were a little startled, and looked to me.

 

“I suggest you do as the lady asks.  You do like eating here, don’t you.  Well, she’s the cook.”

 

They stood up and undressed slowly.  They got down to their briefs, and their hard dicks were pretty obvious.  So were their red faces.  Amanda just sat and patiently watched.  So did I.  Toppy bent over and pulled down his briefs, and stood back up facing a point between me and Amanda.  Murray followed suit.

 

They were handsome.  Murray’s athletic wrestler’s body wasn’t new to either me nor Amanda, as we’d seen him wrestle often, and the wrestling singlet is designed to show a lot of muscle.  Toppy was in as good shape, for being the drum major was just as physically demanding as wrestling.  But his band costume covered everything, and we were seeing most of his body for the first time.  God, both of them were beautiful.  And here were two fairly long dicks pointing almost straight at us, sort of saying, “Take me.”

 

I picked up one pair of their briefs and Amanda the other.  We each hung our pair on its owner’s dick like it was a coat hook.  Amanda said, “Thanks, boys, I’ve been eager for that since you moved in.  Now get dressed, and don’t be talking about this evening around school.”

 

They didn’t make a move to get dressed, letting the briefs hang there.  Murray said, “Oh, shit, Mrs. Weeks, (oh, excuse me) we won’t say a word.”

 

She came forward to Murray, hugged him (getting a gentle ramming from his steel-hard dick) and said, “I know you won’t.”  Then she kissed him, and did the same for Toppy.  I followed behind, giving them both a kiss.  When I kissed Murray I felt him ram me a little in the crotch, and then his tongue poked through my lips and snuck through my teeth and found the tip of my tongue.  I let him play a short while and then broke the connection.

 

Murray was very frank.  “Coach, we know we’re off limits and so are you for us.  But you come down to the cabin during the summer, after we’re graduates, and you’ll be one of the Gang, not our coach.   I think something might happen, if you’d like it to.”

 

I said, “Let’s just leave it that you both are seriously off limits, and we have already pushed too far this evening.”

 

“No you haven’t, Coach.  It was your wife.  She’s not my teacher, and we’re both adults.  Beside we didn’t do anything.  But I sort of wished we had.”

 

“Boys, go to bed,” said Amanda.

 

“Will you come kiss us goodnight?”

 

Much to everyone’s surprise, Amanda said, “Yes, I will.”  The three of them headed up the stairs to the guest room.  The boys went in, climbed onto one bed, spooning each other, and Amanda leaned over and kissed them both, tweaked both of their dicks, and covered them with the sheet.  I watched from the hall and smiled.  I was guessing that we were looking at the next two Gang members, numbers 49 and 50.  I wondered who would claim the magic number 50.

 

The boys were dying to meet Tim and Charlie.  We drove over to the cabin on Saturday before Tim and Charlie were scheduled to leave on Sunday.  We stopped for dinner on the way, as Tim had asked us to come just as it was getting dark.  I guess we arrived a little earlier than expected.  As we drove up we saw two figures walking up from the lake, naked as jaybirds, towels around their shoulders.  They walked right up to the four of us, stuck their hands out to Murray and Toppy and said, “Hi, guys.  You must be Murray and Toppy.  I’m Tim, and this is Charlie.  Now who is who among you two?”

 

Toppy found his voice first and said, “I’m Toppy, that’s Murray.  I can’t believe I’m shaking hand with Tim.  Mr. Tim.  Dr. Tim.  Whatever.”

 

“Just, Tim.  And believe.  I put my pants on like everyone else.”

 

I’m not sure whether Tim intended that the way it came out or not.  But Charlie, almost doubled over with laughter, said,  “Not tonight you haven’t, Tim.”

 

Tim didn’t bat an eye.  He looked down at his dick and said, “This is standard Pike Lake swimming attire–when we can get away with it.  Don’t you think it looks good on me.  Even better on Charlie.”

 

We all started laughing, and Tim and Charlie came over and took Nettie from Amanda, cooed over her appropriately, and then took turns holding Nettie and hugging us.

 

The boys got a tour of the cabin, and a quick tour of the outside, but it was getting too dark to see much so the outside tour was cut short.  We put Nettie down and talked for a while.  Tim gave very few directions to Murray and Toppy.  Take care of the place as you think best.  One of our neighbors serves as caretaker in the winter and when we aren’t here.  He’ll show you the ropes.  I asked him to come over tomorrow morning.  Buy lots of food and make sure everybody’s fed well while they are here.  You aren’t the maids and you aren’t the cooks, they can do that stuff for themselves.  Try to be good hosts for us.  Here are the keys to the Jeep outside.  Paul gave me your names and you’re on the insurance.  Drive responsibly.  One thing is important.  Paul says I can trust you on this.  You aren’t of drinking age.  So, no drinking.  Not just here, but anywhere from now till you leave at the end of the summer.  Can you live with that?”

 

“Yes, sir,” they both said. 

 

“I’m not going to say another word.  Paul says you’re men of yours.  And I won’t even mention drugs.”

 

“No need to, sir.”

 

“Kill the sir.  Call me Kid or Tim, but not sir.”

 

“Kid?”

 

“That’s what Charlie calls me and I love it.  Most people are happy with Tim.  I love both.”

 

Toppy screwed up his nerve and said, “Kid, we really appreciate being able to stay here this summer.”

 

“Whoa, there.  You’re doing me the favor.  Now you have a good time this summer, have lots of sex with each other–you know that’s what Charlie and I were doing down by the lake when you came in.”

 

Charlie looked at Murray and asked, “Are you getting hard, Murray?”

 

He might not have been, but he was now.

 

Amanda said, “Boys take off your clothes and show them two of the most beautiful bodies on earth.”

 

“Good idea,” said Tim.

It was the last thing they were expecting, but they both did the expected strip tease.  In fact, they did try to tease us a little as they pulled of their tee shirts, pants and briefs.  Amanda took their clothes and tossed them in a closet.  “I don’t think you’ll need those tonight.  Tim and Charlie seem to be warm enough without theirs.”

 

Murray said, “Aren’t the two of you overdressed?  A little warm, perhaps?”

 

We were cornered and we stripped as well.  Toppy picked up our clothes and tossed them in the same closet without saying a word.

 

Conversation lingered just a short while.  Amanda said to the boys.  Will you boys take care of Nettie tonight?  Paul and I would really appreciate it.  I’ve put a bottle for her in the refrigerator and there are diapers next to her  bassinet.  We’ll be in Tim and Charlie’s room if you need us.

 

As the four of us lay in bed Tim said, “Those are two sexy boys.  I couldn’t believe you asked them to strip.”

 

“I did the same thing at home after we told them about the Gang.  We didn’t spare any details, because we didn’t want their presence to put a pall on what goes on here this summer.”

 

“Are they going to want to participate?”

 

“I don’t know.  We’ve done nothing more than what you saw tonight except tweak each of their dicks once.  We knew them as children.  The Gang’s all meeting them as adults.  They won’t push, but they won’t be prudes either.  As far as actual sex, I don’t know.  They have to make up their own minds about who they’re going to have sex with.  But they’ve proven to be big boys, so I’m not worried about them.”

 

“Maybe we should worry about the Gang?”

 

“I don’t know anyone in the Gang that can’t hold her or his own.”

 

“OK, what’re we going to do tonight?”

 

“You, Kid (I love that), are going to fuck me.  Paul and Charlie can make their own plans.”

 

I said to Charlie, “69?”

 

“69 it is.”

 

It was a lovely night.  Tim and Charlie performed well, but then spooned together and went to sleep.  Amanda and I were still horny so we headed out to the living room to try out the couch.  There in the middle of the floor were two boys engaged in the most aggressive 69 I’d ever seen.  Unseen, we stood and watched.  When they had both reached a magnificent simultaneous climax then looked up and saw us.  “Oh, my God,” said Murray.

 

I simply said, “You boys should give lessons.  Now go to bed, Amanda and I want the couch.”

 

Two very embarrassed boys made their way to bed.

 

Two now even more horny adults made their way to the couch and a glorious fuck.

 

Tim’s alarm went off at six, they were up and showered by 6:30, ate by 6:45, gave us last minutes instructions, loaded their car, and were off promptly by 7:00, with Tim kissing everyone, including Charlie, and telling him, “See, I told you we’d make seven a.m.”  And they were gone.

 

Murray, now in pajamas, was holding Nettie and giving her a bottle.  Amanda took her and headed off to get her ready to travel.  I got dressed during that time, and took care of Nettie while Amanda got dressed for the road.

 

When I came out, I went over to the desk and pulled out the schedule that Tim had told me would be in the drawer.  I handed it to Toppy and said, “This will let you know whom to expect.  They all know that you two will be here.  And they all know your story, so you don’t have to be embarrassed by having to tell it over and over again.  And it looks like tonight you’re going to have eleven people in the cabin.  Franklin and Phil, Phil’s brother Jerry and Judy (Yeah, the one Amanda warned you about) and their daughter Jude, and Franklin’s parents are coming in one car.  They’re going to meet Tim and Charlie for lunch in Brainerd, and should be here by dinnertime.  Tom’s parents, Sam and Beverly are coming up from Detroit, and you and Murray make eleven.  Don’t worry, they’ll figure out how to sleep.”

 

We were gone by mid-morning, wondering just how Murray and Toppy were going to do in the chaos, sexual and otherwise, of the Gang and the Pike Lake cabin.  We needn’t have worried.  Reports drifted back to us over the summer, and we drove over two or three times, usually just for lunch and dinner and a quick return in the evening.  The boys had met with Charlie’s caretaker and gotten a list of maintenance projects and improvements that were needed.  They were told about charge accounts at the lumber yard, hardware store, and grocer’s in Amasa.  They headed out and loaded the Jeep with tons of food, filling the pantry, fridge, and freezer.  As people arrived they had Cokes and fresh lemonade ready and a pork roast on the grill.  The carload from Grand Forks was greeted with a basket of corn to husk and sent into the woods to do the job with the husks to be left behind to decay.  Sam and Beverly arrived shortly thereafter, and dinner was soon on the table. 

 

Following ice cream for dessert Judy broke the sexual ice with, “Jerry, take your clothes off.”  He did, with some enthusiasm.   Then she looked at Toppy and Murray.  Now you two.  It’s obvious you have gorgeous bodies.  Besides, Amanda told me you did.”

 

Beverly came up to Toppy, looked him over, and said, “Can I take you to bed tonight?”

 

It was obviously a joke, and we all chuckled.  Toppy got the last laugh with, “Sure.  I’d love it.  It’s a date.”

 

Sam wasn’t to be outdone.  “Murray, will you join me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Franklin said, “There are three bedrooms in this place, we’ll put Beverly and her beau in one.  Sam and his in the other.  Judy, Jerry, and Jude in the third.”

 

Norma said, “We have rules against incest in this house.  Peter and I’ll go with Jerry and Judy and help take care of Jude.”

 

Franklin said, “Better yet, you two take care of Jude and we’ll take care of Jerry and Judy out here.”

 

Phil smiled and said, “You bet we will.”

 

Jerry said, “Wait a minute.  Murray and Toppy, are you cool with this?  It took the rest of us a while to get used to the idea of intergenerational sex, being fucked by or fucking somebody twice your age.  This is hitting you guys out of the blue.”

 

Toppy took one look at Beverly, smiled and said, “I’m gay.  I can’t think of a better teacher for straight sex than a beautiful, experienced woman.”

 

Beverly beamed and said, “That’s one of the nicest things said to me today, all week perhaps.”  We all laughed.

 

Murray said, “Sam, are you going to teach me, or am I going to teach you?’

 

Sam said, “I think we both have a lot to learn.”

 

They all headed to bed.

To be continued...

 

Posted: 11/28/08