“Well, not exactly homeless, but thanks, Matt, for the introduction. I’m pleased to meet the famous Chet and, at least according to Matt, the infamous older brother.”
Before Geoff could respond to the brotherly insult, Matt began, “You’ll meet another classmate, also staying with us for Thanksgiving in a few minutes. Greta and Taylor are going to be staying in the pool house.” Matt seemed quite pleased to have attracted two nice young lady companions for the holiday season. He was certainly keeping up his reputation as a guy with a harem.
Geoff looked at his Dad and said, “Well you know the first set of med exams is over and I placed in the top 5%–they don’t class-rank any more. So that’s all I know. The next set of classes start on Monday. But, Chet is the one with the outstanding news.”
“I’m pretty sure that Geoff has told you most of this, but cycling news isn’t exactly distributed around the world. As of last Saturday, RCC had completed the required 8 meets to qualify for consideration as season champions. We placed first by a significant margin. We have two more meets—Orlando in a week and half and Miami just after Christmas. We then get to drop our two worst performances—but so do all the other teams that that complete ten meets. It will be close, and I don’t want to jinx our chances, but it looks pretty good for the team.”
“As of now, I am nearly tied for best individual performance. It may be determined in the last two meets. New coach nominations have just been announced—and they’ve asked me to sit on the interview committee. I haven’t decided whether to accept—one of the finalists is related to a team member. And he is probably the only guy on the team that I don’t get along with. So I’m not sure I can be impartial.”
Geoff broke in, “Chet’s moral compass is enormous—you can see his back pocket is always stretched from the weight of carrying it around.”
“My back pocket is stretched because Geoff orders too much food and my ass is growing. I thought my Irish grandmother was a harpy about eating. You should live with this Italian nag.” I chuckled and reached over and touched his gut.
“With all the calories you burn in riding and exercising, if I didn’t feed you, my Mom would accuse me of starving you. Besides, I like your ass just the way it is.”
The terrace went silent; Geoff blushed, and Doc came to the rescue. “Aren’t we expecting an announcement this weekend?”
“Yeah. Friday, high noon, Los Angeles time. The twenty pro draft pick list of names will be published on the internet. I don’t think that there will be any surprises for me. I’ll be on the list—the more important consideration will be the club that drafts me—and I won’t know that for several more weeks.”
“Have you heard from your family?”
“My sister called a few weeks ago. She is expecting their first child in late March. She tells me Mother and Father are delighted, but are already lobbying to get her to move back to Savannah. They’ll be with the extended family on the plantation tomorrow. But, I don’t think that they will move. She and her husband both have good positions and like Atlanta. The family can be absolutely stifling since my mother’s older brother still tries to run the family the way his great grandpappy controlled the slaves—and the family.”
“But nothing from your parents?”
“No, but I really didn’t expect to hear from them. I sent them my address when I wasn’t going back to the dorm and my cell phone number after the semester started, but the letter was returned unopened.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
As the sun set, we moved indoors and all gathered at the large trestle table for the feast. Conversation continued with Matt and his friends dominating the conversation (for a change). Dinner was a delight.
Val had a wonderful “Thanksgiving Eve” meal prepared when we arrived—a delicious variety of her Italian traditions—a huge tray of antipasto (shipped in from her family), veal Milanese, lobster polenta, and a medley of vegetables marinated in olive oil and vinegar. We even tried a few chocolate profiteroles (before we retired for our real dessert).
“Thanks Mom for a great dinner. Chet and I are going to turn in. Long drive today. Dad, are you working tomorrow?”
“Yes, we agreed to split up the day. I’ll go in at 6 and be home by 2.”
“We’ll have dinner at 4 to 5.”
“Is there anything we can do to help tomorrow?”
“It’s all under control, thanks.”
“I think I’ll go out for a ride tomorrow—we brought my bike with us.”
“I’m going to drop by the ER tomorrow morning to see some of my friends from last summer.”
“I’m going out to the pool house with the ladies to play gin—do you want to join us Mom?”
“No, I think I’ll enjoy an early, quiet evening with your father.”
“Good night then. Until tomorrow.” My guess is that gin would yield to truth or dare without Val at the table. Matt looked really pleased with himself.
We headed for the bedroom. As I was walking out of the bath, Geoff remarked, “Better close the black out drapes before you strip, babe. There is a clear shot from my sliders to the pool house windows.”
“Now you tell me. How often have we screwed around in here with the drapes wide open?”
“But you always boast that you’re an exhibitionist. I didn’t think it would bother you. And we typically don’t have guests in the pool house.”
So I walked over and shut the drapes. I noted that the pool house lights had been dimmed and the drapes pulled shut. I guess Matt was in for a magic evening too. Then I hummed a bad version of The Stripper while I put on a show for Geoff. It didn’t take long—I didn’t have much on. “Come over here boy, I want a lap dance. Make it good.” Geoff was removing his sandals while sitting on the ottoman, so I walked up to him and facing him, sat. My arms went around his neck, my legs around his hips, and I began to invade his mouth with my tongue as I squirmed my ass over his hardening dick. His fingers went immediately to my ass cheeks and alternately squeezed and lifted. I knew what was coming (and cuming) and I pressed my chest into his in anticipation and rolled his nibs between my fingers. He moaned and dropped his head back. I reached over and took his lips in mine, forcing them open to prepare for my invading tongue.
Then he grabbed my cheeks and stood simultaneously. He took a few steps toward the bed and placed me on my back near the headboard on the pillow, trapping the hook of my knees with his powerful arms. He grabbed the lube from under the pillow and anointed his love tool and my inviting pucker, reaching in far enough to press the p-spot. Then he rolled me up on my shoulders, grabbed the bars of the headboard to stabilize himself, positioned his purple head at my entrance and stiffened out into a push up position. A few moves later his body and his dick were steel-stiff and he was buried to the hilt. I could feel his swollen sacs on my ass. I knew this was one of his favorites since it left him in almost complete control of his and my pleasure. He had me helpless, rolled back onto myself, “bound” to the headboard by his long arms, and fully open to his driving into me. When we first fucked, I chafed at giving him such control, but with time, I too began to like the surrender and there was no question that he knew how to stroke my button.