The Hunger
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Yes, yes, its almost over. ( Thank God, eh? ) Just a few more chapters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5ijgWbDWCE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjMfQG4DejQ&feature=related
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5ijgWbDWCE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjMfQG4DejQ&feature=related
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8835
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The Hunger, Chapter 32: Dream A Little Dream of Me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNBvSLW_vDE&feature=related
Chance exits through the metal door quickly; Manning shuts it fast and locks it. John turns from the big screen and says to Chance:
Oh Jesus Chance, Jenny! , . . . Jenny!
Chance looks at John in a puzzled way and says:
Huh? What? as Chance then looks at the big screen view of the board room and Jenny.
Manning sits down as Jenny walks to the table then passes out the servings of yogurt and spoons to the seated men as she hums Brahms Lullaby.
Chance, shes got my bomb, my BOMB!
BOMB? screams Chance as his gaze turns from John back to the screen. Artie stands there dumbfounded and helpless.
As the men peel back the tops of their snack cups, Jenny tries to remember which corner the rooms camera was concealed as she reaches in and hits the red button two times. She watches the timer silently count down from thirty seconds. Jenny remembers now which corner houses the camera. She stares up at it and smiles. Fifteen seconds left now.
JENNY! Chance now screams, hands to his head, trying to squeeze the reality from his brain.
You truly have been loved Chance Jenny now says to the camera.
Watch after him Willie were her last words as she gives one last smile, and then tosses the back pack into Cosgroves lap.
The banks of screens first turn white, then fuzzy as the media room shakes from the muffled explosion!
Topside, Michael stands behind the Escalade as the ground shakes for him; he too hears a muffled explosion. Michael runs inside the gated pool area to now see the water level in the pool dropping fast. The placement of Cosgrove near the back wall made the brunt of the explosion concentrate its forces there, conveniently blowing a hole in the cinderblock wall holding back the fiberglass shell of the swimming pool above. The waters rushed into the room quickly engulfing it, forming a soup of pure carnage. The bunker quality steel door of the room held tightly, allowing only a trickle of water to now seep from underneath. From a different screen the boys see Michael scurring about the pool area; they too see the water level drop. They run up to the pool area, with Artie level headed enough to take the kitchen phone off the hook and dials 911 before dashing out to join the others. In tears now, Chance and John find an almost drained pool as the water tries to find its own level.
Chance knows nothing can be done, he sobs as he notices something different inside the pool house. The closet is different. The door had been jarred open and shows the back wall to the closet also jarred open. Chance and John both approach and notice the steel spiral staircase leading down into the pump room. The four men descend the stairs to the pump room and the hallway beyond. Chance puts his hand on the door of the board room as he says:
Jenny.
Chance grabs the doorknob, John places his hand atop Chances and says:
Shes gone, Chance
Water pressure wont let us in anyways Artie says and Michael nods.
The emergency dispatch goes out over the airwaves. The call is picked up by the radio Fran Getty has in his garage. The Getty boys listen attentively, finally Fran says:
Trouble at C.C.s place, lets go.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNBvSLW_vDE&feature=related
Chance exits through the metal door quickly; Manning shuts it fast and locks it. John turns from the big screen and says to Chance:
Oh Jesus Chance, Jenny! , . . . Jenny!
Chance looks at John in a puzzled way and says:
Huh? What? as Chance then looks at the big screen view of the board room and Jenny.
Manning sits down as Jenny walks to the table then passes out the servings of yogurt and spoons to the seated men as she hums Brahms Lullaby.
Chance, shes got my bomb, my BOMB!
BOMB? screams Chance as his gaze turns from John back to the screen. Artie stands there dumbfounded and helpless.
As the men peel back the tops of their snack cups, Jenny tries to remember which corner the rooms camera was concealed as she reaches in and hits the red button two times. She watches the timer silently count down from thirty seconds. Jenny remembers now which corner houses the camera. She stares up at it and smiles. Fifteen seconds left now.
JENNY! Chance now screams, hands to his head, trying to squeeze the reality from his brain.
You truly have been loved Chance Jenny now says to the camera.
Watch after him Willie were her last words as she gives one last smile, and then tosses the back pack into Cosgroves lap.
The banks of screens first turn white, then fuzzy as the media room shakes from the muffled explosion!
Topside, Michael stands behind the Escalade as the ground shakes for him; he too hears a muffled explosion. Michael runs inside the gated pool area to now see the water level in the pool dropping fast. The placement of Cosgrove near the back wall made the brunt of the explosion concentrate its forces there, conveniently blowing a hole in the cinderblock wall holding back the fiberglass shell of the swimming pool above. The waters rushed into the room quickly engulfing it, forming a soup of pure carnage. The bunker quality steel door of the room held tightly, allowing only a trickle of water to now seep from underneath. From a different screen the boys see Michael scurring about the pool area; they too see the water level drop. They run up to the pool area, with Artie level headed enough to take the kitchen phone off the hook and dials 911 before dashing out to join the others. In tears now, Chance and John find an almost drained pool as the water tries to find its own level.
Chance knows nothing can be done, he sobs as he notices something different inside the pool house. The closet is different. The door had been jarred open and shows the back wall to the closet also jarred open. Chance and John both approach and notice the steel spiral staircase leading down into the pump room. The four men descend the stairs to the pump room and the hallway beyond. Chance puts his hand on the door of the board room as he says:
Jenny.
Chance grabs the doorknob, John places his hand atop Chances and says:
Shes gone, Chance
Water pressure wont let us in anyways Artie says and Michael nods.
The emergency dispatch goes out over the airwaves. The call is picked up by the radio Fran Getty has in his garage. The Getty boys listen attentively, finally Fran says:
Trouble at C.C.s place, lets go.
The Hunger, Chapter 33: “Is That All There Is?”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BjhJLhSbYg
Officer Brown takes the curvy road at a dangerously high rate of speed, siren blasting, lights flashing. Charlene and Lynette run to the end of the drive and wave at the passing county sheriffs’ car, as they always do, unknowing of the tragedy going on at the Cole compound.
Chance was at his breaking point, he couldn’t take much more, and he was ready to snap. If there was just one small good thing that happened for Chance at all this day, it was when Officer Brown pulled up beside the Getty vehicle as Fran, Stan and Leroy were getting out of the parked truck. Officer Brown was a fair and square “by the book” kind of officer. The Getty’s knew he couldn’t be bought. Nervously, they got back in their vehicle as now even more rescue vehicles were pulling up the drive. Charles Cole was a county V.I.P. Just the Getty boys, and a very few others knew Charles dark side. The Getty’s returned to their garage, wondering if to stay put or to run.
“Screw the labs, there’s too many of them to destroy anyways” Fran said. “I think our goose is cooked boys” he then said as he helped himself to some salted-in-the-shell peanuts.
“Enjoy these last few moments of freedom” Fran ended.
The late afternoon sun cast its generous warm rays down upon Chance and John sitting in the upright chairs poolside at the compound.
Artie Moore and Michael were over by the small tombstones briefing the authorities of what they knew of the tragic events. Artie and Michael left no detail unexplained. Michael also opened the locked console in the back seat of the Escalade giving to the authorities Cosgrove’s briefcase. Artie helped go thru the briefcase. It was Artie that first opened the red folder that explained everything, and from that folder they obtained Marie Cole’s address and phone number where back home cousin Jeffrey accompanied one of the state troopers to the house there to break the news to Marie. Marie would be with Chance by afternoon of the following day.
Chance had cried a year’s worth of tears that afternoon. The sun light refracting thru the trees permitted John to see the dried tear tracks embedded in the day’s dust and grime still on Chance’s face. The tracks seemed to change position as the leaves fluttered, changing the light, making the tracks look like one of those 3-D greeting cards, where the picture changes as you flex it in your hand.
John looked over to the pool house’s back wall. He got up and walked over to the sink, one last time. He reached in the cupboard and got down two glasses one last time. He opened the correct drawer on the first try and pulled out one straw, one last time. He filled them with crushed ice and tap water one last time, then turned and walked towards Chance like he did that one last time. Chance turned as John approached and gave a pensive smile as he reached for his straw’d drink and said:
“Thank you John”
After he finished the drink in four gulps, John got up and refilled Chance’s glass that one last time, and handed it back to him. Chance smiled warmly this time as he said:
“John, I don’t know what I’d have done, without you being here. Thanks. Thanks for being “you””.
The two friends continued sitting there, now watching the volunteer fire department run a hose down thru the hole in the pool into the boardroom to draw out the water, not knowing what kind of body parts would be spat out on the sloping driveway. The two sat thru it all in silence except to answer a question or two from the rescue force. Charlene’s father was on the volunteer fire department, he had returned home just minutes ago before the emergency call went out. He called home when he had a free moment to tell his wife what had happened. It wasn’t long before Charlene and Lynette passed thru the family gate to Chance and Willie. The girls pulled up two more chairs and joined the boys in silence after John fixed waters for them too.
Minutes passed like hours but by the end of sunset it was all over with. Emergency crews were almost all gone now, except for sheriff and state police crews.
The man in charge of everything walked up to Chance and said:
“Mr. Cole, I’m afraid we have to treat all this as a crime scene for now. Do you have an alternate place to stay?”
Exhausted, slouched in his chair, Chance couldn’t answer the question, he couldn’t think.
“He has a place to say” said Charlene. “When can we go?”
“We’re all done here for tonight except for the crime scene ribbon.” The man said. “We’re going to post a guard to watch over things here too, just to be safe.”
John and Chance both looked at each other. Each knew the other was thinking of the Getty boys.
“Grab some stuff then let’s go then, my place” Charlene solemnly says.
The girls got up from their chairs first as they then grabbed the boy’s hands and helped them get up from their slouched positions. Chance was exhausted. He allowed himself a brief smile as he walked towards the closet, realizing he never unpacked his suitcase. The girls walk out to their car as Charlene turns and says:
“Remember, my place, we’re going on ahead, meet us there!”
John was closing the sheer curtains as Chance passed thru them, like a diver, as he then walked passed the waters of Heather and looked at John as he said:
“Coming?”
John paused and said:
“I’ve just got these grimy things” as he tugged on his denim cut offs and said:
“Salty balls”.
Chance smiled when John said “salty balls.” Chance replied:
“I got some stuff here, John, they’ll fit.” Chance said as he again smiled.
“You think so? I think your butt is bigger than mine.” John now said. Eyeing Chance’s butt, making his hands do a squeezing motion.
Chance couldn’t believe how at ease John made him feel. Like a new lease on life he boldly said:
“My butt’s higher than yours, John, that’s all, it isn’t bigger!”
“Christ we’re talking about size now. I hope this isn’t going where I think its going. We both know you got bragging rights, give it a rest will you, SHEEZE!”
John slugged Chance hard in the shoulder, so hard he let go of his suitcase and stubbed his toe. Perhaps it was because of his exhaustion or call it fate, karma or just plain luck, but Chance stumbled as he slammed his toe, but before eminent contact of face with concrete could be made, Chance was caught by John’s arms, quickly turning into a warm embrace, right there, as the crime scene tape was being unrolled the two kissed gently. Tongues intertwining, hands caressing faces, stroking gently the nape of the neck kind -of -kissing. 1940’s movies style kissing where the camera spins and spins around kind -of -kissing. Before things got too hot, the two soul mates separated and smiled. The attending officers noticed, but said or thought nothing as they seen many things at crime scenes, strange things, that was one of the few pleasant things.
“My bike is down at the carwash, drop me off there will you, I’ll follow you to Charlene’s. You remember the way?” John asked.
“Duh, it was just this morning we was there, sure I know the way” Chance jokingly replied as the two hopped in Chance’s truck as Chance continues:
“John, this whole day seems so strange to me. Thinking back on it all, it was like parts of it I was having like, , , like an out of body experience, looking down at it all. Like back in that board room, it was like a nightmare John.” Chance’s eyes tear up; he wipes them with his hand.
“I heard everything too, Chance, on the screen.” John replied, feeling so much empathy he felt a stabbing pain in his chest as his eyes too tear up. Keeping his distance in the truck’s cab, John reaches over with his closest hand and envelops Chance’s neck and rubs Chance’s shoulder as they pull up to the car wash bay.
We zoom in on Charlene now; she’s back at her house in the middle of a conversation with her mother:
“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. They’re staying here tonight. Here they come now! Give him a break will ya, he’s gone through a lot today. We’re his only friends here right now, he can’t stay at C.C.’s place because it’s a crime scene, ask Dad, and we’re not going to do anything tonight anyways, not tonight.” Charlene says adamantly.
“What do you mean by not tonight, Charlene?” her mother asks inquisitively. Charlene just smiles.
“Well ok” Mom relinquishes and smiles as the boys knock on the door. Charlene continues smiling.
Mom opens up the door as she says:
“Come in boys, have you had any supper? You two must be starving. Go on in that washroom there and clean up what you can clean up.” Mom eyes the boys as they enter and shut the door to the washroom Mom continues:
“Charlene are those two going to be putting any clothes on, you suppose?”
Charlene looks by the door and says:
“Yes momma, there’s his suitcase.”
“Well all right then’ momma says in a relieving way. “After all, today is Sunday.”
“Yes momma, today IS Sunday” Charlene repeats, then whispers to herself:
“And I’ve been blessed !.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BjhJLhSbYg
Officer Brown takes the curvy road at a dangerously high rate of speed, siren blasting, lights flashing. Charlene and Lynette run to the end of the drive and wave at the passing county sheriffs’ car, as they always do, unknowing of the tragedy going on at the Cole compound.
Chance was at his breaking point, he couldn’t take much more, and he was ready to snap. If there was just one small good thing that happened for Chance at all this day, it was when Officer Brown pulled up beside the Getty vehicle as Fran, Stan and Leroy were getting out of the parked truck. Officer Brown was a fair and square “by the book” kind of officer. The Getty’s knew he couldn’t be bought. Nervously, they got back in their vehicle as now even more rescue vehicles were pulling up the drive. Charles Cole was a county V.I.P. Just the Getty boys, and a very few others knew Charles dark side. The Getty’s returned to their garage, wondering if to stay put or to run.
“Screw the labs, there’s too many of them to destroy anyways” Fran said. “I think our goose is cooked boys” he then said as he helped himself to some salted-in-the-shell peanuts.
“Enjoy these last few moments of freedom” Fran ended.
The late afternoon sun cast its generous warm rays down upon Chance and John sitting in the upright chairs poolside at the compound.
Artie Moore and Michael were over by the small tombstones briefing the authorities of what they knew of the tragic events. Artie and Michael left no detail unexplained. Michael also opened the locked console in the back seat of the Escalade giving to the authorities Cosgrove’s briefcase. Artie helped go thru the briefcase. It was Artie that first opened the red folder that explained everything, and from that folder they obtained Marie Cole’s address and phone number where back home cousin Jeffrey accompanied one of the state troopers to the house there to break the news to Marie. Marie would be with Chance by afternoon of the following day.
Chance had cried a year’s worth of tears that afternoon. The sun light refracting thru the trees permitted John to see the dried tear tracks embedded in the day’s dust and grime still on Chance’s face. The tracks seemed to change position as the leaves fluttered, changing the light, making the tracks look like one of those 3-D greeting cards, where the picture changes as you flex it in your hand.
John looked over to the pool house’s back wall. He got up and walked over to the sink, one last time. He reached in the cupboard and got down two glasses one last time. He opened the correct drawer on the first try and pulled out one straw, one last time. He filled them with crushed ice and tap water one last time, then turned and walked towards Chance like he did that one last time. Chance turned as John approached and gave a pensive smile as he reached for his straw’d drink and said:
“Thank you John”
After he finished the drink in four gulps, John got up and refilled Chance’s glass that one last time, and handed it back to him. Chance smiled warmly this time as he said:
“John, I don’t know what I’d have done, without you being here. Thanks. Thanks for being “you””.
The two friends continued sitting there, now watching the volunteer fire department run a hose down thru the hole in the pool into the boardroom to draw out the water, not knowing what kind of body parts would be spat out on the sloping driveway. The two sat thru it all in silence except to answer a question or two from the rescue force. Charlene’s father was on the volunteer fire department, he had returned home just minutes ago before the emergency call went out. He called home when he had a free moment to tell his wife what had happened. It wasn’t long before Charlene and Lynette passed thru the family gate to Chance and Willie. The girls pulled up two more chairs and joined the boys in silence after John fixed waters for them too.
Minutes passed like hours but by the end of sunset it was all over with. Emergency crews were almost all gone now, except for sheriff and state police crews.
The man in charge of everything walked up to Chance and said:
“Mr. Cole, I’m afraid we have to treat all this as a crime scene for now. Do you have an alternate place to stay?”
Exhausted, slouched in his chair, Chance couldn’t answer the question, he couldn’t think.
“He has a place to say” said Charlene. “When can we go?”
“We’re all done here for tonight except for the crime scene ribbon.” The man said. “We’re going to post a guard to watch over things here too, just to be safe.”
John and Chance both looked at each other. Each knew the other was thinking of the Getty boys.
“Grab some stuff then let’s go then, my place” Charlene solemnly says.
The girls got up from their chairs first as they then grabbed the boy’s hands and helped them get up from their slouched positions. Chance was exhausted. He allowed himself a brief smile as he walked towards the closet, realizing he never unpacked his suitcase. The girls walk out to their car as Charlene turns and says:
“Remember, my place, we’re going on ahead, meet us there!”
John was closing the sheer curtains as Chance passed thru them, like a diver, as he then walked passed the waters of Heather and looked at John as he said:
“Coming?”
John paused and said:
“I’ve just got these grimy things” as he tugged on his denim cut offs and said:
“Salty balls”.
Chance smiled when John said “salty balls.” Chance replied:
“I got some stuff here, John, they’ll fit.” Chance said as he again smiled.
“You think so? I think your butt is bigger than mine.” John now said. Eyeing Chance’s butt, making his hands do a squeezing motion.
Chance couldn’t believe how at ease John made him feel. Like a new lease on life he boldly said:
“My butt’s higher than yours, John, that’s all, it isn’t bigger!”
“Christ we’re talking about size now. I hope this isn’t going where I think its going. We both know you got bragging rights, give it a rest will you, SHEEZE!”
John slugged Chance hard in the shoulder, so hard he let go of his suitcase and stubbed his toe. Perhaps it was because of his exhaustion or call it fate, karma or just plain luck, but Chance stumbled as he slammed his toe, but before eminent contact of face with concrete could be made, Chance was caught by John’s arms, quickly turning into a warm embrace, right there, as the crime scene tape was being unrolled the two kissed gently. Tongues intertwining, hands caressing faces, stroking gently the nape of the neck kind -of -kissing. 1940’s movies style kissing where the camera spins and spins around kind -of -kissing. Before things got too hot, the two soul mates separated and smiled. The attending officers noticed, but said or thought nothing as they seen many things at crime scenes, strange things, that was one of the few pleasant things.
“My bike is down at the carwash, drop me off there will you, I’ll follow you to Charlene’s. You remember the way?” John asked.
“Duh, it was just this morning we was there, sure I know the way” Chance jokingly replied as the two hopped in Chance’s truck as Chance continues:
“John, this whole day seems so strange to me. Thinking back on it all, it was like parts of it I was having like, , , like an out of body experience, looking down at it all. Like back in that board room, it was like a nightmare John.” Chance’s eyes tear up; he wipes them with his hand.
“I heard everything too, Chance, on the screen.” John replied, feeling so much empathy he felt a stabbing pain in his chest as his eyes too tear up. Keeping his distance in the truck’s cab, John reaches over with his closest hand and envelops Chance’s neck and rubs Chance’s shoulder as they pull up to the car wash bay.
We zoom in on Charlene now; she’s back at her house in the middle of a conversation with her mother:
“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. They’re staying here tonight. Here they come now! Give him a break will ya, he’s gone through a lot today. We’re his only friends here right now, he can’t stay at C.C.’s place because it’s a crime scene, ask Dad, and we’re not going to do anything tonight anyways, not tonight.” Charlene says adamantly.
“What do you mean by not tonight, Charlene?” her mother asks inquisitively. Charlene just smiles.
“Well ok” Mom relinquishes and smiles as the boys knock on the door. Charlene continues smiling.
Mom opens up the door as she says:
“Come in boys, have you had any supper? You two must be starving. Go on in that washroom there and clean up what you can clean up.” Mom eyes the boys as they enter and shut the door to the washroom Mom continues:
“Charlene are those two going to be putting any clothes on, you suppose?”
Charlene looks by the door and says:
“Yes momma, there’s his suitcase.”
“Well all right then’ momma says in a relieving way. “After all, today is Sunday.”
“Yes momma, today IS Sunday” Charlene repeats, then whispers to herself:
“And I’ve been blessed !.”
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The Hunger, Chapter 34: “So Nice !
A single fly struggles in vain attached to the old fashioned sticky flypaper tape hanging from the overhead ceiling above the dinner table. The young girls sit on one side, the boys on the other and Momma at the head. Mr. Jones is still back at the volunteer fire house, still straightening up the equipment used at the Cole compound. The meal is almost over, but Chance can’t help being the perfect guest any longer as he reaches in for a second helping from the bowl and plops it on his dinner plate. He was starving. He sat there taking a mental inventory of what went in his stomach that weekend, and he could count on his one hand the few yogurt containers and some frozen mixed vegetables and baby carrot or two. Maybe it was because he was sitting there with true friends that made everything so tasty, he had to ask:
“Mrs. Jones, this white stuff is really good, what do you call this stuff?”
At that point John had just put a spoonful of “that white stuff” in his mouth that he immediately shot out from his nose, laughing so hard at Chance asking that question so inquisitively. Mrs. Jones and the girls started laughing too, dividing their laughter between Chance’s question and the white missiles that shot from John’s nostrils onto his plate. Chance was smiling too then as he continued eating the second helping, and damn, he was feeling good, however he wasn’t sure why the others were laughing so hard. Finally Mrs. Jones says:
“Chance honey, I don’t know what you call them up north, but down here in the south they’re known as “mashed potatoes with butter”. The table is in a laughing uproar again. John clenches his side, it hurt so bad with laughter, Chance finally laughs too, not wanting to be left out of the fun.
John settles down from his laughing affliction as he turns to Chance and asks:
“You never had mashed potatoes before, really?”
“Guess not, not really, don’t think so, anyways, I think I had some baked before though, it too was white, with white creamy stuff on top, thicker than gravy.” Holy shit, more laughter from all the southerners!
Mrs. Jones finally catches her breath from the laughter as she shakes her head then says while clutching her breastbone:
“Heavens, no potatoes, goodness gracious, you lead a sheltered life.”
The smiling Chance now looks solemn as he says:
“Sheltered life, yes, I suppose I had.”
John knew exactly how sheltered, after witnessing the screens in the media room earlier that day.
Not wanting to put a damper on things, Chance gets up slowly, being careful not to flop around, still wearing those black shorts, he says:
“Let me help with the dishes, I could almost lick then all clean”
Charlene and Lynette both giggle, at the double entendre Chance unwittingly said. John knew too, and giggled as he then says:
“Yes Mrs. Jones, we’ll do our share.”
Mrs. Jones, being the old fashioned southerner, said:
“We’ll have none of that, we have enough women folk here to take care of any dish in this house. Why don’t you boys go upstairs to really freshen up. Charlene can show you where the bathroom is, perhaps you’d like to shower off good, make you feel better I bet, then you can put some fresh real clothes on and join us on the porch, there promises to be another nice breeze tonight. Have you been enjoying our nightly southern breezes, Chance?”
“Yes ma’am, I have!”
Chance says, as he remembers that second evening, at the pool house, him lying there, under the spell of Willie the witchdoctor, Willie the savior. The curtains billowing in, the cool spray of antiseptic on his cock, the laughing, the hurt stitches, the laughing, Meeting “John”, the laughing, falling for John. Chance gently puts his hand secretly on John’s hand as they place their dirty dishes in the sink.
Charlene says:
“Come on guys, let me show you the way, it’s through here, this way. Chance don’t forget your suitcase!” Charlene pretended it was the boys first time at the house,” Come on Lynette help me upstairs too, momma, we’ll be down in a minute or two for those dishes, why don’t you go out on the porch and take a nap, Lynette and I can handle the kitchen chores, you relax, you had a busy weekend at dad’s cousin’s place anyways.” Charlene whispers to the gang once they’re all upstairs:
“She’ll be out like a light in three minutes out on that porch swing; dad’s not coming home till after 10, he always does when it’s his turn at the firehouse." Charlene passes out four towels then leads her army into her bedroom. Immediately her and Lynette begin to undress each other in the middle of the room. Lynette says:
“You guys sit on the bed and watch, who gets to shower first by the way, the boys or the girls?”
Chance and John both say:
“Boys”
as Charlene says: “girls, because girls have more to wash”
Lynette then removes Charlene’s bra, Lynette still standing behind Charlene, reaches in front, lifting up Charlene’s breasts, rubbing them, tweaking the nipples. Lynette’s bra is now off as the girls change position, Charlene rubbing Lynette’s breasts now, as Lynette says:
“See, yes, more to wash” as she squirms under Charlene’s erotic breast massage. The girls then remove their panties, rubbing their vaginas, wetting their fingers, licking their fingers, Charlene confirms:
“More to wash, right guys? Girls then , right?” Charlene says, coquettishly.
Chance turns to John and motions with his head, signaling John to stand up.
“Ah, actually I think we have more to wash, if you want to get down to it” Chance says as he undoes John’s cut offs watching them fall, then he drops his skimpy black shorts as the two boys stroke each others cocks, docking their cocks, the girls giggle as the two boys, now hands free, are cock-docking with John’s squash blossom foreskin stretching, enveloping Chance’s huge cut cockhead, tacky from precum it holds fast !
The girls form a huddle as the boys hear them whisper. The huddle is quickly over as Charlene then says:
“Ok boys win, you’re “company” anyways” Charlene says while making quotation marks with her fingers as she says the “company “ word. “But there’s one condition.” The boys slowly turn their heads to Charlene wanting to concentrate on the condition she’s alluding to, the boys being careful too, no to upset the perfect cockdocking they have going on, they both smile at the successful head turn, breathing carefully.
“Yeah, so what’s the condition” asks Chance, he now proudly says still perfectly joined to John as he raises his arms up, exposing his hairy pits in a flamingo dance style, so proud of his maneuver, thinking:
“If this were the Olympics, that should bring ten points !”
Charlene declares:
“We’re switching tonight, Lynette wants Willie, that ok with you, you cockdocking aficionado, Chance, damn, you’re good at that!”
Chance smiles and says:
“Ladies, I want to introduce you to my friend here, John Crawford. John meet two of the sweetest pussies I ever knew.” Chance whispers: “His name is John, NOT Willie, not anymore.”
“Really, you want to switch to me, Lynette?” asks John as he looks at Chance with a smirky grin.
Chance smiles and says:
“Look you little shit, don’t get cocky with me!” The friends all laugh at what Chance just said, with the cockdocking still deftly going on., John’s foreskin still tacky, still holding, The boys laugh so hard the docking separates as John defensively says:
“Now see what you done, you bastard, you, you, you Mister Potatohead!” Shit, damn, more laughter!
“You fuckers be quiet, you’ll wake my mom up, get your asses in the shower you two, Lynette and I will get warmed up here on the bed.”
“Holy shit” Chance giggles at John, looking at the scissor action the girls are now doing expertly.
“I want clean arses if you guys expect any rim jobs tonight” Lynette whispers to the boys as they round the corner to the bathroom. John returns and stands in the doorway. He reaches down and grabs his cock, making it salute the girls as he says:
“Yes ma’am, Two pristine ass holes coming up.”
Fearfull, Charlene loudly whispers to the still saluting cock:
“NO John, no cuming, don’t cum up any ass holes, promise?” Charlene smiles at the play on words she just made.
Chance shouts from around the corner:
“John’s not cuming in my ass, I promise!”
The girls laugh. Lynette says:
“You guys are crazy, get scrubbing and save us some hot water!”
*****
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoKEcKhqCj8
*****
A single fly struggles in vain attached to the old fashioned sticky flypaper tape hanging from the overhead ceiling above the dinner table. The young girls sit on one side, the boys on the other and Momma at the head. Mr. Jones is still back at the volunteer fire house, still straightening up the equipment used at the Cole compound. The meal is almost over, but Chance can’t help being the perfect guest any longer as he reaches in for a second helping from the bowl and plops it on his dinner plate. He was starving. He sat there taking a mental inventory of what went in his stomach that weekend, and he could count on his one hand the few yogurt containers and some frozen mixed vegetables and baby carrot or two. Maybe it was because he was sitting there with true friends that made everything so tasty, he had to ask:
“Mrs. Jones, this white stuff is really good, what do you call this stuff?”
At that point John had just put a spoonful of “that white stuff” in his mouth that he immediately shot out from his nose, laughing so hard at Chance asking that question so inquisitively. Mrs. Jones and the girls started laughing too, dividing their laughter between Chance’s question and the white missiles that shot from John’s nostrils onto his plate. Chance was smiling too then as he continued eating the second helping, and damn, he was feeling good, however he wasn’t sure why the others were laughing so hard. Finally Mrs. Jones says:
“Chance honey, I don’t know what you call them up north, but down here in the south they’re known as “mashed potatoes with butter”. The table is in a laughing uproar again. John clenches his side, it hurt so bad with laughter, Chance finally laughs too, not wanting to be left out of the fun.
John settles down from his laughing affliction as he turns to Chance and asks:
“You never had mashed potatoes before, really?”
“Guess not, not really, don’t think so, anyways, I think I had some baked before though, it too was white, with white creamy stuff on top, thicker than gravy.” Holy shit, more laughter from all the southerners!
Mrs. Jones finally catches her breath from the laughter as she shakes her head then says while clutching her breastbone:
“Heavens, no potatoes, goodness gracious, you lead a sheltered life.”
The smiling Chance now looks solemn as he says:
“Sheltered life, yes, I suppose I had.”
John knew exactly how sheltered, after witnessing the screens in the media room earlier that day.
Not wanting to put a damper on things, Chance gets up slowly, being careful not to flop around, still wearing those black shorts, he says:
“Let me help with the dishes, I could almost lick then all clean”
Charlene and Lynette both giggle, at the double entendre Chance unwittingly said. John knew too, and giggled as he then says:
“Yes Mrs. Jones, we’ll do our share.”
Mrs. Jones, being the old fashioned southerner, said:
“We’ll have none of that, we have enough women folk here to take care of any dish in this house. Why don’t you boys go upstairs to really freshen up. Charlene can show you where the bathroom is, perhaps you’d like to shower off good, make you feel better I bet, then you can put some fresh real clothes on and join us on the porch, there promises to be another nice breeze tonight. Have you been enjoying our nightly southern breezes, Chance?”
“Yes ma’am, I have!”
Chance says, as he remembers that second evening, at the pool house, him lying there, under the spell of Willie the witchdoctor, Willie the savior. The curtains billowing in, the cool spray of antiseptic on his cock, the laughing, the hurt stitches, the laughing, Meeting “John”, the laughing, falling for John. Chance gently puts his hand secretly on John’s hand as they place their dirty dishes in the sink.
Charlene says:
“Come on guys, let me show you the way, it’s through here, this way. Chance don’t forget your suitcase!” Charlene pretended it was the boys first time at the house,” Come on Lynette help me upstairs too, momma, we’ll be down in a minute or two for those dishes, why don’t you go out on the porch and take a nap, Lynette and I can handle the kitchen chores, you relax, you had a busy weekend at dad’s cousin’s place anyways.” Charlene whispers to the gang once they’re all upstairs:
“She’ll be out like a light in three minutes out on that porch swing; dad’s not coming home till after 10, he always does when it’s his turn at the firehouse." Charlene passes out four towels then leads her army into her bedroom. Immediately her and Lynette begin to undress each other in the middle of the room. Lynette says:
“You guys sit on the bed and watch, who gets to shower first by the way, the boys or the girls?”
Chance and John both say:
“Boys”
as Charlene says: “girls, because girls have more to wash”
Lynette then removes Charlene’s bra, Lynette still standing behind Charlene, reaches in front, lifting up Charlene’s breasts, rubbing them, tweaking the nipples. Lynette’s bra is now off as the girls change position, Charlene rubbing Lynette’s breasts now, as Lynette says:
“See, yes, more to wash” as she squirms under Charlene’s erotic breast massage. The girls then remove their panties, rubbing their vaginas, wetting their fingers, licking their fingers, Charlene confirms:
“More to wash, right guys? Girls then , right?” Charlene says, coquettishly.
Chance turns to John and motions with his head, signaling John to stand up.
“Ah, actually I think we have more to wash, if you want to get down to it” Chance says as he undoes John’s cut offs watching them fall, then he drops his skimpy black shorts as the two boys stroke each others cocks, docking their cocks, the girls giggle as the two boys, now hands free, are cock-docking with John’s squash blossom foreskin stretching, enveloping Chance’s huge cut cockhead, tacky from precum it holds fast !
The girls form a huddle as the boys hear them whisper. The huddle is quickly over as Charlene then says:
“Ok boys win, you’re “company” anyways” Charlene says while making quotation marks with her fingers as she says the “company “ word. “But there’s one condition.” The boys slowly turn their heads to Charlene wanting to concentrate on the condition she’s alluding to, the boys being careful too, no to upset the perfect cockdocking they have going on, they both smile at the successful head turn, breathing carefully.
“Yeah, so what’s the condition” asks Chance, he now proudly says still perfectly joined to John as he raises his arms up, exposing his hairy pits in a flamingo dance style, so proud of his maneuver, thinking:
“If this were the Olympics, that should bring ten points !”
Charlene declares:
“We’re switching tonight, Lynette wants Willie, that ok with you, you cockdocking aficionado, Chance, damn, you’re good at that!”
Chance smiles and says:
“Ladies, I want to introduce you to my friend here, John Crawford. John meet two of the sweetest pussies I ever knew.” Chance whispers: “His name is John, NOT Willie, not anymore.”
“Really, you want to switch to me, Lynette?” asks John as he looks at Chance with a smirky grin.
Chance smiles and says:
“Look you little shit, don’t get cocky with me!” The friends all laugh at what Chance just said, with the cockdocking still deftly going on., John’s foreskin still tacky, still holding, The boys laugh so hard the docking separates as John defensively says:
“Now see what you done, you bastard, you, you, you Mister Potatohead!” Shit, damn, more laughter!
“You fuckers be quiet, you’ll wake my mom up, get your asses in the shower you two, Lynette and I will get warmed up here on the bed.”
“Holy shit” Chance giggles at John, looking at the scissor action the girls are now doing expertly.
“I want clean arses if you guys expect any rim jobs tonight” Lynette whispers to the boys as they round the corner to the bathroom. John returns and stands in the doorway. He reaches down and grabs his cock, making it salute the girls as he says:
“Yes ma’am, Two pristine ass holes coming up.”
Fearfull, Charlene loudly whispers to the still saluting cock:
“NO John, no cuming, don’t cum up any ass holes, promise?” Charlene smiles at the play on words she just made.
Chance shouts from around the corner:
“John’s not cuming in my ass, I promise!”
The girls laugh. Lynette says:
“You guys are crazy, get scrubbing and save us some hot water!”
*****
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoKEcKhqCj8
*****
Last edited:
The Hunger, Chapter 35: “I’ll Take Those Two”
Still naked, John slides open the door to the modest combination bath tub and shower, then bends over , adjusting the water temperature to the high end of warm as Chance stands behind him, his face sideways now on his back, arms around John’s waist, inhaling John, rubbing John’s ass cheeks, stroking against the grain of the fine hairs covering the fleshy globes. Chance liked how denser the hair was in the crack. He centered his hand over John’s crack, in a manner best described as “bowling Ball” style as he put his thumb at the higher end of the crack and his middle and two adjacent fingers over John’s rosebud, drawing the fingers inwards and upwards with light pressure sending an erotic chill up John’s spine as he stepped into the shower. Quickly John reaches for the mild and gentle liquid body wash that belonged to Charlene and dispensed generous amounts in his and Chance’s hands. Silently the two embraced under the gentle rain, exploring each other’s bodies, the soap lubricated hands gliding effortlessly over rippling back and chest muscles as their cocks hardened again, stiffening cocks rubbing amongst the soapy deluge.. They took turns being the doctor and the patient in the cleaning operation. No words were spoken, no kisses passed as each one took his turn pivoting as the other one attended to the scrubbing, sometimes seriously, when the arm pits were the focus, sometimes playfully, like when cock and balls were the soapy focus and sometimes gently, like when face and neck were the attention. Finally, one final application of the soapy liquid over hands, chest and groin as they then squeezed in tightly. Chance lowered his stance by planting his feet further apart so soapy cock would rub against soapy cock. Hands reaching behind, exploring each other’s ass crack and sensitive rosebud, probing fingers finding the welcoming orifices. The soapy friction was consuming the sanity of the moment as they now twisted and writhed, bodies still pressed, rubbing, rubbing together. John’s ass hole was the first to spasm as the second knuckle pressed in deeper, and for a split second John regained his senses enough to back away from Chance to utter the phrase:
“Hold it in, don’t shoot!” as the warm water washed the remains of the soapy bond the two had.
“Jesus that was intense” Chance said in amazement. All John could do was nod in agreement as he faced Chance, holding onto his shoulders at arm’s length, bent over, trying hard not to cum.
Finally John smiled and giggled and said:
“Damn Chance, you took me right to the edge, I was about to blindly jump.”
“So I still “have it” then, eh?” Chance inquired proudly as he exited the shower and turned. John smiled and said:
“Dude, you never lost it, you had me from day one” as John then landed his best finger flick, hitting Chance’s cock head with robotic-like accuracy dead center. Chance buckled over in mock pain, giggling, his cock deflating like the Hindenburg.
With towel wrapped waists, the two exited the bathroom, passing the naked girls in the hall, John quickly removes his towel to land a perfect towel snap on Lynette’s ass cheek as she screams before closing the door, the boys can hear them giggle. Chance goes over to the bed and drops his towel to continue air drying. He turns and falls on the mattress, facing the ceiling, arms now behind his head he gives a deep sigh. John quickly pounces, straddling Chance, imitating the Amazonian way, John’s hands strongly grasping Chance’s wrists, subduing Chance in a wrestle style way. They both look at each other smiling. John bends in, he bends down, he plants his nose deep in Chance’s thick dark pits. He licks them, nibbles them, and tugs on them with his teeth. He grinds his cock into Chance’s abs as he then releases his grip to caress Chance’s face as a gentle kiss is planted. Chance’s arms now encircle John as he flips him over, Chance on top, his knees straddling John now, Chance there, dangling, swaying, and now dripping. His tongue parts John’s lips exploring, searching. Tongues interlock, and then free themselves, flicker then dance. Chance’s body drops atop John. Cock now grinding into cock. His hands strongly holding John’s head as Chance delivers the most passionate kiss ever imagined.
Chest to chest,
Cock to cock,
Passions flamed,
The body rocked.
Fingers searched,
Eruptions grew.
Feelings now that they both knew.
“Jesus Chance, there you go again! John cries. “Making me want for more, you fucker! And I just had a shower too. John rubs Chance’s back. He then knows he wasn’t the only one turning into a sweaty glob.
“Lets get dressed and go outside” Chance suggests, pulling John up, and off the bed. They walk to the suitcase as Chance says:
“Wear anything you want, you got first pick.”
Chance unzips the large part; John quickly looks in and immediately points and says:
“I’ll take those two there.”
“The white linen shorts and turquoise shirt? I’ve already worn those, they need laundered, they got to be nasty.” Chance says.
“Not to me” John claims, as he tips his head backwards, covering his entire face with the shirt inhaling Chance’s essence remembering every second of those few minutes they had together there, at the counter in Mr. Davis’s store.
“Can I go commando in the shorts?” John asks innocently.
Chance smiles and nods then says:
“Freak”
John defensively says:
“Potato head”.
They dress quickly and make there way out to the porch, opening the door quietly, not to waken Mrs. Jones. They walk out to the driveway, past the truck and motorcycle. Chance remembers an old record his mother Marie often played. Chance says:
“Let’s walk up the road a bit, it’s nice out, need to air out my head too.”
******
Still naked, John slides open the door to the modest combination bath tub and shower, then bends over , adjusting the water temperature to the high end of warm as Chance stands behind him, his face sideways now on his back, arms around John’s waist, inhaling John, rubbing John’s ass cheeks, stroking against the grain of the fine hairs covering the fleshy globes. Chance liked how denser the hair was in the crack. He centered his hand over John’s crack, in a manner best described as “bowling Ball” style as he put his thumb at the higher end of the crack and his middle and two adjacent fingers over John’s rosebud, drawing the fingers inwards and upwards with light pressure sending an erotic chill up John’s spine as he stepped into the shower. Quickly John reaches for the mild and gentle liquid body wash that belonged to Charlene and dispensed generous amounts in his and Chance’s hands. Silently the two embraced under the gentle rain, exploring each other’s bodies, the soap lubricated hands gliding effortlessly over rippling back and chest muscles as their cocks hardened again, stiffening cocks rubbing amongst the soapy deluge.. They took turns being the doctor and the patient in the cleaning operation. No words were spoken, no kisses passed as each one took his turn pivoting as the other one attended to the scrubbing, sometimes seriously, when the arm pits were the focus, sometimes playfully, like when cock and balls were the soapy focus and sometimes gently, like when face and neck were the attention. Finally, one final application of the soapy liquid over hands, chest and groin as they then squeezed in tightly. Chance lowered his stance by planting his feet further apart so soapy cock would rub against soapy cock. Hands reaching behind, exploring each other’s ass crack and sensitive rosebud, probing fingers finding the welcoming orifices. The soapy friction was consuming the sanity of the moment as they now twisted and writhed, bodies still pressed, rubbing, rubbing together. John’s ass hole was the first to spasm as the second knuckle pressed in deeper, and for a split second John regained his senses enough to back away from Chance to utter the phrase:
“Hold it in, don’t shoot!” as the warm water washed the remains of the soapy bond the two had.
“Jesus that was intense” Chance said in amazement. All John could do was nod in agreement as he faced Chance, holding onto his shoulders at arm’s length, bent over, trying hard not to cum.
Finally John smiled and giggled and said:
“Damn Chance, you took me right to the edge, I was about to blindly jump.”
“So I still “have it” then, eh?” Chance inquired proudly as he exited the shower and turned. John smiled and said:
“Dude, you never lost it, you had me from day one” as John then landed his best finger flick, hitting Chance’s cock head with robotic-like accuracy dead center. Chance buckled over in mock pain, giggling, his cock deflating like the Hindenburg.
With towel wrapped waists, the two exited the bathroom, passing the naked girls in the hall, John quickly removes his towel to land a perfect towel snap on Lynette’s ass cheek as she screams before closing the door, the boys can hear them giggle. Chance goes over to the bed and drops his towel to continue air drying. He turns and falls on the mattress, facing the ceiling, arms now behind his head he gives a deep sigh. John quickly pounces, straddling Chance, imitating the Amazonian way, John’s hands strongly grasping Chance’s wrists, subduing Chance in a wrestle style way. They both look at each other smiling. John bends in, he bends down, he plants his nose deep in Chance’s thick dark pits. He licks them, nibbles them, and tugs on them with his teeth. He grinds his cock into Chance’s abs as he then releases his grip to caress Chance’s face as a gentle kiss is planted. Chance’s arms now encircle John as he flips him over, Chance on top, his knees straddling John now, Chance there, dangling, swaying, and now dripping. His tongue parts John’s lips exploring, searching. Tongues interlock, and then free themselves, flicker then dance. Chance’s body drops atop John. Cock now grinding into cock. His hands strongly holding John’s head as Chance delivers the most passionate kiss ever imagined.
Chest to chest,
Cock to cock,
Passions flamed,
The body rocked.
Fingers searched,
Eruptions grew.
Feelings now that they both knew.
“Jesus Chance, there you go again! John cries. “Making me want for more, you fucker! And I just had a shower too. John rubs Chance’s back. He then knows he wasn’t the only one turning into a sweaty glob.
“Lets get dressed and go outside” Chance suggests, pulling John up, and off the bed. They walk to the suitcase as Chance says:
“Wear anything you want, you got first pick.”
Chance unzips the large part; John quickly looks in and immediately points and says:
“I’ll take those two there.”
“The white linen shorts and turquoise shirt? I’ve already worn those, they need laundered, they got to be nasty.” Chance says.
“Not to me” John claims, as he tips his head backwards, covering his entire face with the shirt inhaling Chance’s essence remembering every second of those few minutes they had together there, at the counter in Mr. Davis’s store.
“Can I go commando in the shorts?” John asks innocently.
Chance smiles and nods then says:
“Freak”
John defensively says:
“Potato head”.
They dress quickly and make there way out to the porch, opening the door quietly, not to waken Mrs. Jones. They walk out to the driveway, past the truck and motorcycle. Chance remembers an old record his mother Marie often played. Chance says:
“Let’s walk up the road a bit, it’s nice out, need to air out my head too.”
******
Last edited by a moderator:
spoiler alert
if you havn't been following this story, are you sure you want to read this part. You're almost at the end. I suggest starting from the beginning.
Chapter 36, The Hunger: “Me and Mrs. Jones”
“What about the girls” John asks.
“We’ll catch up to them later” Chance replies.
The porch light is on and Mrs. Jones is still in view as Chance begins to sing as they now walk along the blacktop road:
“Me and Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong to let it cool down now”
John knows the song, he joins in:
“We meet everyday at the same café’,
Six-thirty, I know she’ll be there.
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
John changes the lyrics:
Me and Miss Jones, Miss Jones, Miss Jones, Miss Jones……..
Chance smiles and says:
“Whoo hoo, John! , MISS JONES: GO Charlene!”
They stop singing, Willie smiles and says:
“Yea, Charlene, she’s my Mrs. Jones even though she’s a Miss.
Chance nods his head in agreement as he says:
“Charlene is amazing; in fact you all have been super people. I’m fortunate to have gotten to know each and every one of you.”
“You going to be heading home now, I suppose” says John.
The boys hadn’t walked far. A car approaches from the rear, turn signal flashing, about to turn into the Jone’s driveway. It’s Artie Moore, he spots the boys in his headlights and continues on and then stops at Chance and John and says:
“Mr. Cole, I just stopped by to let you know we found a ton of dirt in that briefcase of Mr. Cosgrove’s that we found in that limo. A lot of people are implicated all along the east coast, not just here. It’s big, really big !”
John asks:
“What do you think is going to happen to me Artie?”
Artie says:
“Well, you’re mentioned in there Willie, but seems not as a co-conspirator, just more of a pawn.” I’m sure if someone can speak kindly of you, not much will happen concerning you.” Artie smiles, looks at Chance, then winks.
Chance jokingly says:
“Speak kind words about John ? You must be outta your mind. He can rot in jail along with the likes of Leroy Getty, the fucker!”
John lands a perfect knuckle sandwich to Chance’s shoulder as Chance then laughs as he rubs it.
Artie says:
“They’re still rounding up the Getty boys. Oh Chance, by the way. Michael told me to tell you not to worry about your mom. He’s picking her up tomorrow at the Nashville airport and will bring her here pronto! You’ll be at the Jones, right?”
Chance nods his head.
Artie says:
“Great people, the Jones, well if you have any questions you can call me, the police, the DA’s office or ask Willie here, He seems to know everything, well see ya later. Oh, Chance, almost forgot, the will, the money from Aunt Millie. Those papers hadn’t even been filed yet. I would bet that eight million is all going to be yours. Can’t say what will happen to Charle’s estate though. The government is going to be looking into his finances, you can bet on it. Artie Moore turns around and drives back down the road as the boys return his wave.
The boys take two steps up the road continuing on their walk when John turns and says:
“Chance, something’s gnawing at me we need to talk about.”
Chance turns and looks inquisitively.
John continues:
“Chance, that was my bomb, I made it. Jenny , , , If only I had left it up at that lab, if only. . . .
Chance interrupts John:
“John, I learned to never go thru life wondering about the “what ifs”, the “ if only this would have been said”. A person can go insane wondering, worrying about shit they don’t have any control over during the present time. If only I didn’t need that fan belt, if only I would have declined your invitation for that ride home on your bike that day, if only you’d let me alone with Leroy up there on that mountain. What then? ? ? I’ll tell you, that board meeting would have been over with and I’d be scurrying around Uncle Charles’s den looking for a loaded pistol so I could shoot myself between the eyes, that’s what! You did good, John, you did good. Jenny is dead, but that’s the way she wrote it, you heard her too.”
Their eyes tear up. They each comfort the other with a gentle embrace as Chance asks John:
“John, there’s something I want you do to for me.”
John nods his head.
“Come home with me for a while. I want you to meet my dad. Did I tell you he’s in prison? I think it’s time I go see him, can you come too? You’re going to help me bust him out of jail” Chance said with a smirk.
The words “can you come too” echoed in John’s ears. Did he hear Chance correctly? John smiled broadly at Chance. There was John, standing there glorious, handsome and tanned, wearing the turquoise shirt and white linen shorts that Chance wore that first day at Davis's store. Chance then holds John’s sweet face steady to zero in on a soft kiss. Neither boy heard the engine crank, nor did they see the red glow of the cigarette being tossed from the window of the now speeding truck. John pushes Chance clear of the oncoming truck, but he gets hit with full force tossing him like a rag doll into the ditch as the Getty truck screams down the curvy road.
“WILLIE” Chance screams as he runs to him, he kneels down.
“WILLIE” he repeats.
“It don’t hurt at all Chance” John says as he blinks his eyes.
“I can’t feel a thing, honest” John continues.
Chance is sobbing, tears dripping down on the turquoise shirt, he cries:
“Oh Willie”
Willie slowly raises his hand and flicks Chance in the forehead, then points at Chance as he says:
“The name is “John”. . . . Mr. Potato head.”
John is silent now.
if you havn't been following this story, are you sure you want to read this part. You're almost at the end. I suggest starting from the beginning.
Chapter 36, The Hunger: “Me and Mrs. Jones”
“What about the girls” John asks.
“We’ll catch up to them later” Chance replies.
The porch light is on and Mrs. Jones is still in view as Chance begins to sing as they now walk along the blacktop road:
“Me and Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong to let it cool down now”
John knows the song, he joins in:
“We meet everyday at the same café’,
Six-thirty, I know she’ll be there.
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
John changes the lyrics:
Me and Miss Jones, Miss Jones, Miss Jones, Miss Jones……..
Chance smiles and says:
“Whoo hoo, John! , MISS JONES: GO Charlene!”
They stop singing, Willie smiles and says:
“Yea, Charlene, she’s my Mrs. Jones even though she’s a Miss.
Chance nods his head in agreement as he says:
“Charlene is amazing; in fact you all have been super people. I’m fortunate to have gotten to know each and every one of you.”
“You going to be heading home now, I suppose” says John.
The boys hadn’t walked far. A car approaches from the rear, turn signal flashing, about to turn into the Jone’s driveway. It’s Artie Moore, he spots the boys in his headlights and continues on and then stops at Chance and John and says:
“Mr. Cole, I just stopped by to let you know we found a ton of dirt in that briefcase of Mr. Cosgrove’s that we found in that limo. A lot of people are implicated all along the east coast, not just here. It’s big, really big !”
John asks:
“What do you think is going to happen to me Artie?”
Artie says:
“Well, you’re mentioned in there Willie, but seems not as a co-conspirator, just more of a pawn.” I’m sure if someone can speak kindly of you, not much will happen concerning you.” Artie smiles, looks at Chance, then winks.
Chance jokingly says:
“Speak kind words about John ? You must be outta your mind. He can rot in jail along with the likes of Leroy Getty, the fucker!”
John lands a perfect knuckle sandwich to Chance’s shoulder as Chance then laughs as he rubs it.
Artie says:
“They’re still rounding up the Getty boys. Oh Chance, by the way. Michael told me to tell you not to worry about your mom. He’s picking her up tomorrow at the Nashville airport and will bring her here pronto! You’ll be at the Jones, right?”
Chance nods his head.
Artie says:
“Great people, the Jones, well if you have any questions you can call me, the police, the DA’s office or ask Willie here, He seems to know everything, well see ya later. Oh, Chance, almost forgot, the will, the money from Aunt Millie. Those papers hadn’t even been filed yet. I would bet that eight million is all going to be yours. Can’t say what will happen to Charle’s estate though. The government is going to be looking into his finances, you can bet on it. Artie Moore turns around and drives back down the road as the boys return his wave.
The boys take two steps up the road continuing on their walk when John turns and says:
“Chance, something’s gnawing at me we need to talk about.”
Chance turns and looks inquisitively.
John continues:
“Chance, that was my bomb, I made it. Jenny , , , If only I had left it up at that lab, if only. . . .
Chance interrupts John:
“John, I learned to never go thru life wondering about the “what ifs”, the “ if only this would have been said”. A person can go insane wondering, worrying about shit they don’t have any control over during the present time. If only I didn’t need that fan belt, if only I would have declined your invitation for that ride home on your bike that day, if only you’d let me alone with Leroy up there on that mountain. What then? ? ? I’ll tell you, that board meeting would have been over with and I’d be scurrying around Uncle Charles’s den looking for a loaded pistol so I could shoot myself between the eyes, that’s what! You did good, John, you did good. Jenny is dead, but that’s the way she wrote it, you heard her too.”
Their eyes tear up. They each comfort the other with a gentle embrace as Chance asks John:
“John, there’s something I want you do to for me.”
John nods his head.
“Come home with me for a while. I want you to meet my dad. Did I tell you he’s in prison? I think it’s time I go see him, can you come too? You’re going to help me bust him out of jail” Chance said with a smirk.
The words “can you come too” echoed in John’s ears. Did he hear Chance correctly? John smiled broadly at Chance. There was John, standing there glorious, handsome and tanned, wearing the turquoise shirt and white linen shorts that Chance wore that first day at Davis's store. Chance then holds John’s sweet face steady to zero in on a soft kiss. Neither boy heard the engine crank, nor did they see the red glow of the cigarette being tossed from the window of the now speeding truck. John pushes Chance clear of the oncoming truck, but he gets hit with full force tossing him like a rag doll into the ditch as the Getty truck screams down the curvy road.
“WILLIE” Chance screams as he runs to him, he kneels down.
“WILLIE” he repeats.
“It don’t hurt at all Chance” John says as he blinks his eyes.
“I can’t feel a thing, honest” John continues.
Chance is sobbing, tears dripping down on the turquoise shirt, he cries:
“Oh Willie”
Willie slowly raises his hand and flicks Chance in the forehead, then points at Chance as he says:
“The name is “John”. . . . Mr. Potato head.”
John is silent now.
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SPOILER ALERT !
ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO READ THIS LAST CHAPTER NOW? SHOULD'T YOU START AT THE BEGINNING?
The Hunger, Chapter 37: “Let’s Put On A Show!”
As promised, Michael picked up Marie at the airport, accompanied by Artie Moore. Artie briefed Marie of the chain of events her son Chance experienced that horrible weekend. Artie was very frank but also sensitive when it came to the part of who fathered her son Chance. A cloud was lifted from Marie. Deep within, she felt an uneasiness during those past twenty years, wondering in the back of her mind, but never pin pointing her uneasiness. She arrived in Safe Haven a new person, a whole person.
Artie Moore confided that indictments were to be handed down that would cause a ripple effect in many board rooms across the east coast. Cosgrove’s reach was extensive! Artie’s help and compassion did not go unnoticed. He and Angie could now work on that baby. He was offered partnership in a local honest law firm.
Marie handled the funeral arrangements. She also attended to her son’s needs. Chance endured a lot that long weekend, both physical and emotional. They talked about Jenny and what were Chance’s plans now. The job in Capitol City is no more now. That company was one of Cosgrove’s. Chance told his mother he wanted to try a relationship with Noah Cole. Marie too wanted to try, to start fresh.
They both wondered how Noah would accept them now. By the following weekend Chance’s and Marie’s business was finished in Safe Haven.
A chain link wall was built around the Cole compound to keep out intruders. Chance paid one last visit to the pool house and looked around. He walked over to Itsy and Bitsy’s graves one last time. Before he passed thru the wooden gate, he took one flat rock from the top of the stone wall and placed it in the back of his pickup. He would add that rock to his wall he built at his mother’s house as a memento of that life altering weekend. Chance also couldn’t part with that awful smelly bag Willie tossed back at him that night there on the patio. The chambray shirt and chino pants were clean once more, he was wearing them.
Chance was headed home now. He drove down the curvy drive to the stone lions, and made a left turn. Thru the intersection past the empty Getty garage Chance now drove, to the interstate beyond. He traveled west now on interstate 40, heading to interstate 65 north. One of those passing summer storms was fast approaching. The sky overhead became dark very quickly. Chance turned on the radio in hopes to get a local weather forecast as he tuned the dial. The rains engulfed him now. Sheets of rain falling, falling, but no weather forecast. Wait, he tuned the dial back to a previous station. What was that he heard over the clap of thunder? A song, he tuned in, and turned up the volume.
PLAY THE SONG, SHRINK THE WINDOW, CONTINUE READING
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teOM9y-dV7s
Chance sang the song as loudly as he could as he opened the windows on both sides. He popped open the smaller side windows of the super cab, the rear sliding one too as the tires of the vehicles whooshing thru the freshly fallen rain puddles thru up a fine mixture of water, and road grime. Swirling winds from the open windows maintained a vortex that now swirled thru the trucks cab.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you crazy or what? Is this why you wanted me to be sure to waterproof these damn casts?” John cried, awakened from his deep sleep
He was taking serious medication after his near death encounter with the Getty truck, and he laid there looking like death warmed over, with his right arm in a sling and a cast on his right leg from the knee down. John was a tough cookie. John smiled as he began to sing the song too. The water sprayed everywhere through out the cab, and the boys were becoming soaked, but they were caught up in the rapture of living. They continued singing, John changed the lyrics once again, to “Miss Jones” instead of Mrs. Jones, and Chance did too.
“I need to piss” John shouted over the booming speakers. “The medication” he then said in defense.
“There’s a roadside rest five miles ahead, can you hold out till then?” Chance asked. John nodded.
The boys pulled in to the rest stop. Chance in his rain soaked chinos, and Willie in his tattered turquoise shirt and white linen shorts. Their pants were see- thru due to the soaking. The boys removed their shirts on the way inside the building, causing many to gawk at the visible penises and dark pubic hairs showing like daylight commando style thru the thin fabrics. The boys didn’t care! The wet shirts were tossed into the sink as John hobbled over to a urinal closest to the stalls.
“Can you help me out here Chance? It seems I need a little help here unzipping with this busted arm.” John requested.
“Ya, sure, be right there John.” Chance said, as he walked up behind John and said:
“Spread your legs a little bit, so they’ll catch the shorts” as Chance undid the top clasp, then he unzipped for John, and the shorts dropped to John’s knees, dropping no further as his legs were spread.
“I’m right behind you, I got your naked ass covered” Chance chuckled as he then bent over John, looking over John’s right shoulder as he placed his left arm around and over John’s chest and down his hairy trail, grasping John's cock with thumb and forefinger, while Chance’s right hand grabbed John’s cock shaft. John’s left arm resting on top of Chance’s arm, rubbing Chance’s arm. Chance aimed the cock with precision as he whispered in John’s ear:
“O.K., go” Chance paused for a moment before continuing on:
“Anyone ever tell you that you smell real good?” as he rubbed John’s abs now, still aiming with the other hand. John started giggling causing the pee stream to wobble. Chance laughed as he said:
“Hold still, damn it” as business man James Blackstone rounded the corner headed to the urinals. Blackstone thought:
“I know that ass” as he zeroed in on Chance’s wet chinos and ass crack. Back muscles rippling as he bent over John, Blackstone did a double-take when he spotted just a hint of John’s naked ass in front of Chance! He continued his path to the urinal and parked two urinals over, unzipping as he casually looked over at the boys, seeing Chance clutching John’s cock, giving himself an immediate erection, now unable to piss. Chance was alert to the business man two urinals away and he caught Blackstone’s growing hard-on. Chance whispered to John:
“We’re giving that dude to the left a boner, he’s watching us, let’s give him a show.”
John smiled wickedly !
THE HUNGER THE HUNGER THE HUNGER
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyMxlqkCdaI&videos=_q2wgm1TRVM
THE END THE END THE END THE END
ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO READ THIS LAST CHAPTER NOW? SHOULD'T YOU START AT THE BEGINNING?
The Hunger, Chapter 37: “Let’s Put On A Show!”
As promised, Michael picked up Marie at the airport, accompanied by Artie Moore. Artie briefed Marie of the chain of events her son Chance experienced that horrible weekend. Artie was very frank but also sensitive when it came to the part of who fathered her son Chance. A cloud was lifted from Marie. Deep within, she felt an uneasiness during those past twenty years, wondering in the back of her mind, but never pin pointing her uneasiness. She arrived in Safe Haven a new person, a whole person.
Artie Moore confided that indictments were to be handed down that would cause a ripple effect in many board rooms across the east coast. Cosgrove’s reach was extensive! Artie’s help and compassion did not go unnoticed. He and Angie could now work on that baby. He was offered partnership in a local honest law firm.
Marie handled the funeral arrangements. She also attended to her son’s needs. Chance endured a lot that long weekend, both physical and emotional. They talked about Jenny and what were Chance’s plans now. The job in Capitol City is no more now. That company was one of Cosgrove’s. Chance told his mother he wanted to try a relationship with Noah Cole. Marie too wanted to try, to start fresh.
They both wondered how Noah would accept them now. By the following weekend Chance’s and Marie’s business was finished in Safe Haven.
A chain link wall was built around the Cole compound to keep out intruders. Chance paid one last visit to the pool house and looked around. He walked over to Itsy and Bitsy’s graves one last time. Before he passed thru the wooden gate, he took one flat rock from the top of the stone wall and placed it in the back of his pickup. He would add that rock to his wall he built at his mother’s house as a memento of that life altering weekend. Chance also couldn’t part with that awful smelly bag Willie tossed back at him that night there on the patio. The chambray shirt and chino pants were clean once more, he was wearing them.
Chance was headed home now. He drove down the curvy drive to the stone lions, and made a left turn. Thru the intersection past the empty Getty garage Chance now drove, to the interstate beyond. He traveled west now on interstate 40, heading to interstate 65 north. One of those passing summer storms was fast approaching. The sky overhead became dark very quickly. Chance turned on the radio in hopes to get a local weather forecast as he tuned the dial. The rains engulfed him now. Sheets of rain falling, falling, but no weather forecast. Wait, he tuned the dial back to a previous station. What was that he heard over the clap of thunder? A song, he tuned in, and turned up the volume.
PLAY THE SONG, SHRINK THE WINDOW, CONTINUE READING
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teOM9y-dV7s
Chance sang the song as loudly as he could as he opened the windows on both sides. He popped open the smaller side windows of the super cab, the rear sliding one too as the tires of the vehicles whooshing thru the freshly fallen rain puddles thru up a fine mixture of water, and road grime. Swirling winds from the open windows maintained a vortex that now swirled thru the trucks cab.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you crazy or what? Is this why you wanted me to be sure to waterproof these damn casts?” John cried, awakened from his deep sleep
He was taking serious medication after his near death encounter with the Getty truck, and he laid there looking like death warmed over, with his right arm in a sling and a cast on his right leg from the knee down. John was a tough cookie. John smiled as he began to sing the song too. The water sprayed everywhere through out the cab, and the boys were becoming soaked, but they were caught up in the rapture of living. They continued singing, John changed the lyrics once again, to “Miss Jones” instead of Mrs. Jones, and Chance did too.
“I need to piss” John shouted over the booming speakers. “The medication” he then said in defense.
“There’s a roadside rest five miles ahead, can you hold out till then?” Chance asked. John nodded.
The boys pulled in to the rest stop. Chance in his rain soaked chinos, and Willie in his tattered turquoise shirt and white linen shorts. Their pants were see- thru due to the soaking. The boys removed their shirts on the way inside the building, causing many to gawk at the visible penises and dark pubic hairs showing like daylight commando style thru the thin fabrics. The boys didn’t care! The wet shirts were tossed into the sink as John hobbled over to a urinal closest to the stalls.
“Can you help me out here Chance? It seems I need a little help here unzipping with this busted arm.” John requested.
“Ya, sure, be right there John.” Chance said, as he walked up behind John and said:
“Spread your legs a little bit, so they’ll catch the shorts” as Chance undid the top clasp, then he unzipped for John, and the shorts dropped to John’s knees, dropping no further as his legs were spread.
“I’m right behind you, I got your naked ass covered” Chance chuckled as he then bent over John, looking over John’s right shoulder as he placed his left arm around and over John’s chest and down his hairy trail, grasping John's cock with thumb and forefinger, while Chance’s right hand grabbed John’s cock shaft. John’s left arm resting on top of Chance’s arm, rubbing Chance’s arm. Chance aimed the cock with precision as he whispered in John’s ear:
“O.K., go” Chance paused for a moment before continuing on:
“Anyone ever tell you that you smell real good?” as he rubbed John’s abs now, still aiming with the other hand. John started giggling causing the pee stream to wobble. Chance laughed as he said:
“Hold still, damn it” as business man James Blackstone rounded the corner headed to the urinals. Blackstone thought:
“I know that ass” as he zeroed in on Chance’s wet chinos and ass crack. Back muscles rippling as he bent over John, Blackstone did a double-take when he spotted just a hint of John’s naked ass in front of Chance! He continued his path to the urinal and parked two urinals over, unzipping as he casually looked over at the boys, seeing Chance clutching John’s cock, giving himself an immediate erection, now unable to piss. Chance was alert to the business man two urinals away and he caught Blackstone’s growing hard-on. Chance whispered to John:
“We’re giving that dude to the left a boner, he’s watching us, let’s give him a show.”
John smiled wickedly !
THE HUNGER THE HUNGER THE HUNGER
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyMxlqkCdaI&videos=_q2wgm1TRVM
THE END THE END THE END THE END
Last edited:
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