San Francisco
Part 20

After Spencer had kissed me for several minutes in bed, he raised his head and smiled down at me. "You taste nice, Daniel. Willie does, too, now that he's given up smoking."

"You smoked?"

"Two packs a day," Willie replied. "You wanna taste me now?" Rather than wait for an answer, he placed his open mouth against mine and sent his tongue on a mission of hot, wet passion. A minute later, he asked, "Well?"

"Yeah, cool. Whoa! Jeez! Can you give me a sec to catch my breath?" After a brief pause, I added, "I've heard that quitting tobacco is pretty difficult."

"I had an extra incentive. Spencer wouldn't kiss me. Told me I tasted like an ash tray. But I also used a little trick. I wore an elastic band around my wrist, and every time I felt like lighting up, I'd stretch the elastic band and let it snap hard against my skin. I think it's called aversion therapy. Anyway, I started smoking when I was fourteen. Gave it up last year."

"I was wondering why you had that band around your wrist. I thought it might've been there to remind you of something... y'know, like tying a piece of string on your finger."

"It is in a way, I guess. Anyway, I haven't needed to snap it for a long time."

"Fourteen's pretty young to take up smoking."

"I had emotional problems at the time. Smoking was a crutch. Now my crutch is Spencer," he grinned, then swapped knowing glances with his bud.

"So if something happened to Spencer, would you start smoking again?"

"I don't even wanna think about that. Anyway, nothing's gonna happen to Spencer."

"Wanna bet?"

Spencer did as I asked, and rolled over onto his other side so that he had his back to me under the covers. I slipped my hand under his arm, and fondled his powerful chest while I rubbed my boner against his warm, inviting butt. "Ding, dong. Avon calling." But as Spencer raised one leg to spread his buns, I felt Willie behind me, copying my actions. "Are you doing what I think you're doing, Willie?"

"Damn! I was hoping to surprise you."

"Yeah, right. With that thing?"

As I spat onto my hand, then lubed my hardon, I could hear Willie doing the same thing to his. Then he emulated my actions again as I rubbed my slippery spit into Spencer's twitching rosebud, which was crying out to be fucked. I just knew it!

My next task was to maneuver my cockhead into position. Once I could feel Spencer's ass muscles squeezing my knob, I began to slowly push it forward. At the same time, I could feel Willie's monster hard up against my hole. And as I pushed, he pushed, until both our cocks were deep inside their respective butts.

"So what do we do now?" I asked, wondering how the hell we were gonna co-ordinate a double fuck.

"You reverse first, then when you thrust, I'll reverse. And when..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... I've got it. OK, here goes nothing!"

It was a totally weird sensation to be pumping Spencer's tight ass while Willie's hard, fat cock was sliding in and outa mine. But it was wicked, big time! Fucking while being fucked was rad to the extreme! Woohoo! And when it came time to offload a truckload of jizz, and ram my pulsating seven inches all the way home -- while biting Spencer's neck and practically ripping his pec off -- I felt Willie's tight nads hard up against my ass, and his warm, exploding juice flooding my insides. Meantime, all three of us were moaning and groaning in complete and absolute ecstasy. Aaaagggghhhh!

"You're kidding, right?"

"What's wrong with cold pizza?"

"For breakfast? Don't you have any cereal or whatever?"

Spencer held the cold slice of pizza between his teeth, opened a kitchen cupboard, and produced a box of cornflakes.

"Cool."

Willie grabbed a carton of orange juice from the fridge, and poured a glass for each of us while I shook the cornflakes into a bowl, then added milk. Mmmm! The delicious crunch of sweet cornflakes first thing in the morning was pretty hard to beat. Not even the Inter-Continental's breakfast menu could top that. Well, maybe it could, but there was something about being a guest in Spencer's house that made everything extra special.

"I thought you weren't into piss?" Willie asked as he and Spencer joined me at the table.

"I'm not."

"So how come we all pissed on each other in the shower just ten minutes ago?"

"That was different. It didn't go any higher than our chests. Actually, it was a bit of a blast to see those two cocks of yours jetting their morning piss all over me. Well, not all over me. It's only a game, though. I don't see it as horny or anything... not like Paul does."

"I thought it was horny."

"You did? Well, you're probably twisted."

There was a mischievous twinkle in Willie's eyes as he answered me. "Think so?"

"Nah, not really," I cracked, then chewed on another mouthful of cornflakes. "Whatever turns you on. Hey, I've pissed on a heap of guys, so it's no biggie."

"They were in a heap?"

"Get real, Willie."

"Some people would think that was gross and degrading."

"They weren't in a heap."

"I mean pissing on other people."

"So what's gross and degrading? Watching overweight people stuffing their faces with junk food in restaurants? You can see that any day of the week, man... and in public! I don't understand this gross and degrading bullshit. Yes, I do! I saw a guy in a car waiting at a red light, and he was picking his nose and eating his snot. Fucking gross, man!"

"Daniel, pleeeeease! For God's sake, we're eating breakfast!"

"Yeah, well... sorry, guys. But that dude was totally fucking gross. Puke material. Actually, he looked as though he didn't realize what he was doing... probably away with the fucking pixies, thinking about the fucking stock market or something. If I'd tapped him on the shoulder while he was chewing on a big, juicy greenie..."

"DANIEL! PUH-LEEEEASE!"

"Sorry, guys. But you know what I mean. He would've freaked out totally if he'd known that somebody was watching him shoving his damn finger up his nose. So I guess whatever people think is gross and degrading is only gross and degrading if it's done in public. If it's done in private, it's cool."

"Provided it's consentual."

"Yeah. Consentual nose pickers," I giggled. "Is there a law against nose-picking in public? I don't think so. Why not? I'm sure it's offensive to most people, but there's no law against it. If that guy had been jacking off at the traffic lights, or pissing, he would've been busted big time. But picking his nose? No problem. Maybe we could go on the Jerry Springer show. I hear they pay pretty cool appearance fees."

"You're not serious?"

"The Three Pisskateers! Can you imagine that? Outasight! We could piss all over the audience... or maybe even all over Springer. How cool would that be?"

"The Jerry Springer show is just a TV version of side-show alley... the two-headed woman, the ten inch dwarf, the fat lady, whatever. It rates 'cause some people are fascinated by freaks. Anyway, I don't think most of Springer's guests are real. I think they're b-grade actors looking to make a buck. Make that c-grade actors. No! D-grade actors!"

"So we're freaks? You, Spencer and me?"

"That's not what I said, Daniel. But if we went on the Jerry Springer show we'd be freaks. Think of it this way; if you were naked at a nude beach, that'd be cool. But if you were naked on the Jerry Springer show you'd be a freak. That guy is exploitive."

"Of freaks?"

"No, not necessarily of freaks. They get paid. It's the audience that's being exploited. Just like they are on side-show alley. They'd be embarrassed if they gawked at a two-headed woman in real life. But in a TV studio, surrounded by a hundred other gawkers? No problem. If it's OK with Jerry, it's OK period. Can you imagine some person stopping you in the street and recognizing you as somebody they saw in a Jerry Springer audience?"

"No way, man. If I was gonna be on the Springer show, I'd wanna be the dude in front of the camera, not some lamo in the audience. At least I'd have made some bucks."

"How come you know so much about the show if you don't watch it?"

"I know people who do. Hey, I know people who eat cold pizza for breakfast, too," I cracked, then ducked as Spencer's hand flew over my head.

"Watch your mouth," Spencer glared.

"You don't frighten me, Spencer. You're not the aggro type."

"Oh? So what type am I?"

"Well," I began, slowly collecting my thoughts. "You're big and strong, but you're a bit of a teddy bear. There's no anger in you. And you're way too generous to be an asshole. You're kind and considerate, like that time you showed me how to use the chopsticks."

"How do you know I wasn't just hitting on you."

"'Cause you didn't hit on me."

"Maybe I was being subtle."

"No you weren't. You didn't know I was gonna turn up at the Bay next day and see you windsurfing. You were prepared to help me in the restaurant, then disappear outa my life. Right?"

"Maybe. But do you think our second meeting was totally accidental?"

"Do you believe in Fate?"

"Not necessarily, but I tend to think that there's a reason for everything."

"So we were destined to meet again after you showed me how to use chopsticks?"

"We met again, didn't we?"

"But what if we hadn't?"

"Then it wouldn't have been our destiny to meet."

"Hmmm. Does that mean that what's gonna happen tomorrow is already determined?"

"How can it be? Tomorrow doesn't exist."

"Are you trying to fucking confuse me, Spencer? So what are you saying? That Fate doesn't exist 'cause the future doesn't exist?"

"What do you think?"

"You're asking me? How the fuck would I know? But it's kinda weird how things happen. I mean, I visit SF with Pop, then I'm in a restaurant where I don't know what the fuck's going on. Then you're behind me and telling me what food to eat. Then I'm fiddling with a couple of dumb sticks trying to figure out how to use the damn things. Then you're suddenly behind me again and me telling me how. And the next day, I see you skimming across the Bay and shit. And here I am eating breakfast in your kitchen. So what's all that about? Coincidence?"

"What do you think?"

"I KNEW YOU WERE GONNA SAY THAT, DAMMIT!"

Spencer casually swallowed the last piece of cold pizza, then smiled at me, revealing his awesome set of pearlies. He was the kinda guy you could get mad at, but only for a second. As soon as that wicked smile spread across his handsome face, and turned his twinkling eyes into half-moons, it was like you were totally fucking defenseless. "Daniel, I don't know. OK? I really don't know. But sometimes things happen that seem to be meant to be... like destined, somehow. Y'know? Maybe they were, and maybe they weren't. We'll never really know for sure. But I've got a feeling that your being here is no accident or coincidence." Then he shrugged before continuing. "Fate? Were trees meant to be green, or did it just happen? Does it bother you that trees are green? Maybe it's better just to accept things the way they are, and not to be unduly concerned with why they are."

"Is that an order?"

"Yep."

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