Sams’ Perspective
Have you ever been up on the witness stand? It’s kinda surreal, and intimidating as hell. I had a great view of the courtroom; I could see the jurors as they watched me intently, hanging on my every word. I couldn’t remember another time in my life where I had the undivided attention of twelve (really 13 if you count the alternate) people at one time. I saw my family and friends there supporting me, just a few months ago most of them were complete strangers. They listened as I aired my family’s dirty laundry for the entire freaking world to hear. Then I saw her… my “mother.” She was wearing a conservative, gray suit with a white blouse that buttoned all the way up. In my entire life, I had never seen her dressed like that, hell most the time she was in tube tops and Daisy Dukes. She was playing a character and putting on a show for the judge and jury. The poor, misunderstood housewife who did what she had to do to escape an abusive relationship and save her beloved son from her abuser (yeah, that was the defenses angle… poor, abused April the victim). She made eye contact with me when I looked her way, and gave me this empathetic, caring look as if she felt my pain… of course she made sure the jury saw it. For the record, I had never seen that look before in my entire, miserable life, the woman had shown zero empathy for me. She also shook her head and pulled out this, this… this look of, well, disbelief and hurt whenever I spoke against her as if to say ‘ my own son telling such lies against me, the perfect mother. I can’t believe it!’ It was all a lie. A show for the courtroom. She was pure evil.
My father had taken the stand before me, his story was heart wrenching. He spoke about being a scared teenager who learned that his girlfriend was pregnant, and how that fear eventually turned into to insurmountable love and elation when he met his newborn son (that’s me. Hi.) for the very first time. He talked about how both families were upset at first, but ultimately supportive, even April’s parents (my late grandparents). He told the court how April loved the attention of being pregnant, all eyes on her (he even called her an attention whore… in court!), and how once I was born and the attention was on me instead of her, his world changed. She became mean, bitter, unhappy, and often abusive towards him (and he feared for me when he was not around to protect me). He also spoke about his love for me, and the early years when he hated being away from me while he worked two jobs and put away every penny that he could to buy a trailer and rehab it so his family would have a home. What stood out to me was how he kept saying that he lived to come home to me. Then he ripped out my heart when he told the story of coming home to find our home had been reduced to a pile of ash and his wife and son were nowhere to be found… the thought of us being dead paralyzed him. Then he spoke about how things didn’t add up; no bodies, no calls to him at work from April about a fire, etc. There was anger, disbelief, and hurt in his voice as he spoke of his suspicions that his wife had kidnapped their son. “They told me she was dead and I just couldn’t accept it” he said, “I felt guilty about my suspicions, that was until the police brought it up, things didn’t add up for them either. After that things fell into place. I came out of mourning and my life became a mission to find my family.” They entered into evidence posters, online listings, record of an Amber alert, even a damn milk carton with my picture on it. How did I not know any of this until a few months ago?! Was I that stupid, or was I just a dumb kid? His testimony was an emotional rollercoaster, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and the jury believed every heartfelt word… he was a hard act to follow. But I had no choice.
I mostly answered questions and shared a few stories about my miserable childhood in the swamp. The prosecuting attorney (who me and Dad had spoken with a countless number of times as she prepared her case) was gentle with me, she asked me a lot of softball questions, and opened the door for me to give examples and paint my mother for what she was… an evil, heartless, manipulative bitch. The cross examination, however, wasn’t as gentle. Her defense attorney tried to frame me as the villain, “accusing a great woman like Marnie Morris of such atrocities” (yes, he said that several times). He painted me as an evil little fuck who made her life a living hell when all she did was love me. He talked about my bad grades, getting in trouble in school, etc. He turned every little misstep of a lonely, awkward kid into some kind of delinquent crime. This went on forever until I finally cracked. “That bitch would lock me in that fucking house for days and disappear, she didn’t allow me to have friends or even any real contact with the outside world other than school. I can’t remember a single meal she ever cooked, she referred to me as ‘a stupid little shit’ ‘the waste that fell out of my vagina’ ‘a useless loser’ and a million other things daily. That’s how my mother treated me, I wanted to fucking die, in fact I used to pray that I would. The only happiness in my life were the visits from my stepbrother…. everybody and everything in the house changed when Parker came to visit.” I talked about how suddenly we’d do things as a “family” and I felt normal for a couple of days. I looked at Parker as I spoke, he smiled and nodded encouragement the entire time… he knew the truth.
The third day, the defense made their case. My mother took the stand and told a story that contradicted everything the jury had heard… and she told it well. At one point she looked at me out in the gallery and said, “It hurts my heart that my baby boy would make up such lies and atrocities (there was that word again) against me, his own mother. He twisted our wonderful relationship into such a horrible story… I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so… all I ever did was love him.” She was good. Damn good. She cried at all the right moments, and even had to stop once to regain her composure. She put on a helluva show… that was until the prosecution got a hold of her. The prosecuting attorney was smooth. She started her cross examination by handing my mother a tissue and empathizing with her; one mother to another. Her questions were soft and easy as she helped my mother retell her fairytale, it was almost as if she was taking her side. Then she got real. She asked my mother about specific dates and incidences, she read statements from teachers, my high school principal, even Parker’s mother collaborating my story and forcing my mother to make up new lies that contradicted the old ones. At one point, my mother broke. “It’s not like I even wanted that little fuck in the first place” she snarled. The jury gasped, the whole perfect wife and mother act unraveled from there.
My mother’s version and mine could not have contrasted more if we had coordinated the effort. After my mother’s testimony, the prosecution asked permission to call one more witness… Parker. Parkers testimony aligned with mine. When he said, “I would go home and tell horrific stories to my mother about how they treated Frankie… I mean Sams. As soon as I was old enough to make my own decisions, I stopped going there” he said. “I felt bad about leaving Frankie on his own, but I just couldn’t. I hated it there.”
The prosecuting attorney asked, “what reason did you give your father?”
“I told him I was busy with sports and other stuff.”
“And what reason did you give your mother?” She asked.
“That I was afraid of them, and I thought hurt Frankie. I even asked her if he could come live with us… I was scared for him.”
“How old were you then?”
“I dunno, twelve or thirteen.”
“And why would you say something like that to your mother?”
“Because they treated me like the golden boy, and well, they treated Frankie… well… like shit” he looked at me when he said it. “The poor kid couldn’t catch a break; all they ever did was yell at him. My mom called CPS once… they went out to visit but then just wrote it off as the complaint of a jealous ex-wife and refused to respond to her future complaints” he testified. I remembered that visit but didn’t know it was Parker’s mom who called. CPS came out and found me reading, they asked me a few questions then left. The attorney had pulled the CPS report and read from it; she confirmed exactly what I just told you.
So, it came down to: who would the Jury believe… her or me?
Me! After four days of testimony and a couple of hours of deliberation April Willis/Marnie Morris/inmate#23828 was found guilty on all charges and would be sentenced at a later date. As they took her away, my shoulders felt so light. I didn’t get to say goodbye, but I got closure.
My family celebrated, even Parker joined us before he flew back to Florida. My dad, stepmom, and sisters went back to Tennessee the next day, but Marcus and I decided to stay and spend the weekend with my friends. Frankie Morris was officially dead and I wanted to celebrate.
River’s Perspective
My head was spinning! I had inherited a hundred plus acres of farm land from an uncle that I barely knew existed. The land was back home and I had no interest in moving back there, and the will stipulated that if I sold the land, all proceeds would be donated to a couple of charities… it was clear he wanted me to have it, and even more so that he did not want my father to have it… he hated the man as much as I did. My father couldn’t operate his farm without the land, which made it more valuable (at least to him). There was a lease agreement in place and me and Che were suddenly about to have an income…. A damn good income. A six figure income (and that was before Che was even on the police force payroll)! It was so weird to think that we didn’t need to scrimp and save just to pay rent and put food on the table anymore. It took so much freaking pressure off us as a couple and open up millions of possibilities for the future. Che could concentrate on the Police Academy and I could think about what I really wanted to do with my life… and thanks to the inheritance, I didn’t have to come up with the answer immediately, I could take my time and figure it out. Oh, oh, I almost forgot the best part… my dad had no choice but to lease the land from me. He. Was. Pissed. I finally had leverage and it felt good. Before I even knew about my inheritance, my father had tried to overturn the will (of course he did), but he failed. That land was mine and for the first time in my life… I had money. I can’t describe how different the world looks when money is no longer a real issue!
Seth’s brother Brad was helping us set up accounts and set financial goals (ha! Financial goals, we were living in a damn storage unit a few months ago. Now we had financial goals). Once the deed was transferred, the monthly lease payment would go right into an account Brad set up, he also set up a couple of investment accounts that fed off that one. Our goal was to have enough savings in one year for a down payment on our own house. Yeah, our own fucking house!! He was also advising us on how to build our credit. Brad, Zach, Seth, Rodney… pretty much any adult we trusted was advising us not to spend any money for at least a year. We were already making enough to live off. “Live simply for one year” Brad said. “You guys make enough to live simply, build up your bank and investment accounts, build your credit rating… then you can buy a house, a car, and the other stupid shit you’re thinking about.” He understood us too well. Che wanted a brand new truck, and we talked about renting a really nice place on the water. But the guys all kept us in check. There’s so much more to tell you, but the bottom line was we were coming into money, and we had a plan to grow it and build our future.
Meanwhile, Sams was in town for his mom’s trial, things went well for him, his mother was convicted and awaiting sentencing… he could move on with his life. He and his new boyfriend, Marcus (um… damn) decided to stay a couple of extra days to just relax and celebrate… we invited them to stay with us.
Marcus was hot as hell!!!! Like a polished, more sophisticated Che. I nicknamed him Brie… you know, “Fancy Cheese.” But seriously, he was such a nice guy and seemed perfect for Frankie… dammit, I mean Sams. And speaking of Sams, man he had changed so much! When we first met him, he was this scrawny, almost sickly looking little guy, now, just a few months later, he had filled out and added some muscle. On top of that, there seemed to be a permanent smile on his face, the guy just radiated. They decided to stay and hang around for a couple of days after the trial. Marcus had never seen the ocean, so we spent Saturday at the beach. Ricky had told us about this quiet spot where the locals hung out, they allowed dogs, coolers, grills, etc., it was a fun crowd and we had a great time just hanging out with our friends. We stopped to pick up burgers on the way back to our place.
We all changed when we got home, we all got a little color from the sun, but especially Sams. He was lobster red! I had some sunburn lotion in the medicine cabinet, and we put a towel on our bed so he could lay down. The poor guy lie on his stomach in his underwear, his tighty-whiteys stood out in contrast from his red skin. Marcus knelt between his legs and rubbed the lotion into his back. “Here, let me help” I said as I sat on one side of the bed and covered his arm and leg, Che got on the other side and did the same. The three of us rubbed the soothing lotion into his fair skin, when we had his back covered, he flipped over and we started on his front. Che and I were both working on his upper thighs, and Marcus was covering his flat stomach when it happened… the head of his long pole peeked out of his waistband. Sams lifted his head and said, “sorry,” he was already beat red, so I couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not. “Somebody wants to come out and play” shy little Sams chided with a smirk, then added, “I told Marcus what happened at Seth’s house that night… he thinks it’s hot.”
Che and I exchanged grins, I looked over at Marcus who was turning some weird color… his black skin blushed, it was hard to see but it was there. It was more encouragement than Che needed, he hooked his thumbs in Sams’ waistband; off slipped the tighty-whiteys, out sprung his long, hard shaft, and down went Marcus. Oh. My. God. Sweet, quiet Marcus went down on his boyfriend taking his long flesh tube down his throat right in front of the two of us… day-um, that boy could suck cock! Che and I exchanged looks, Che could not even pretend to hold his smile back; it was clear our two friends had planned to “seduce” us; it was a trap (I use quotes around “seduce” because you can’t really seduce the over-willing… we’d been talking about seducing them since the second we lay eyes on that hot, chocolate, dream… yeah fine, you caught me. I have a thing for black guys, so sue me). While Che and I celebrated our incredible windfall in silence, Marcus continued to ravage River’s long, hard, member. His mouth and hand moved in perfect harmony as he tried to coax a load from his lover. He was rough but gentle as he tried not to touch the red hot skin that covered the center of his lustful attention. The slight, but toned, strawberry blond Sams propped himself up on his sunburned elbows and watched the hot as hell Marcus show off his oral talents.
Che pulled his T-shirt up over his head exposing his nicely cut body, the sweat and lotion from a day at the beach made his skin glisten. I followed suit leaving Marcus as the only fully clothed man in the room. Che took the initiative and tugged at his polo, Marcus pulled away from his boyfriend’s burning body long enough to shed his shirt… and while he was at it, his pants. Again, quiet, shy Marcus made a bold move. Che hurriedly got naked, then reached over to me and fumbled with my shorts. Wow, the four of us naked on that bed was like a sex-rainbow. Che’s dark skin, Marcus’s slightly lighter, my reddish brown hue, then Sams’ burning red flesh contrasted by the world’s whitest pubic region. It was a sight to behold, but who the fuck had the time to take it in?
I don’t even know if I can describe the pretzel formation that happened next; Sams was still on his back, propped up, Marcus was on all fours between his legs with Sams’ long cock lodged in his throat and his ass up in the air. Che was on his back, under Marcus with his legs hanging off the foot of the bed and Marcus’ Toblerone bar in his mouth. Me? I was straddling Che’s thighs and looking straight into Marcus’s sweet, brown eye. I smacked his darksome ass before parting his cheeks and claiming my prize. My tongue had a mind of its own as it forced its way into his sweet, brown opening causing a chain reaction... he pushed his cock deeper down Che’s throat, and moaned around Sams’ manhood making the poor little red guy writhe and moan in pleasure. “Fuck, that’s it, Riv. Eat his hole” Sams’ said. “You like my friends?” He asked Marcus with a smile.
Marcus chuckled as he took a break from cock sucking to joke, “They’re everything you said.” I had to laugh, Sams was obviously bragging on us and wanted his boyfriend to see for himself.
From under Marcus, Che’s voice said, “The pressure’s on, we better show Marcus how good we really are.” Sams and Marcus snickered, and I pulled Marcus’s ass cheeks further apart and dove in as deep as I could. I ate that ass like a wild hyena feasting on the carcass of a wildebeest. I pushed my face hard against him, pushing him down even further onto Sams. I gave his ass another smack. When I heard Che’s voice again, “Oh hail, dat’s it, I need somma’ dat black ass.” With that he snaked his way out from under Marcus, pushed me aside and dove in deep. I shifted my attention to his ass, and dined on my second brown hole of the night. Sams just lay there as the rest of us shifted around him several times, licking, and sucking on everyone and everything. It was sexual charcuterie at its best as us two skinny crackers snacked on cheese, fancy cheese, and two big sausages. It was a veritable smorgasbord of lust.
We finally ended up in a spit roast, with me as the centerpiece. I was on all fours hovering above Sams with Marcus’s massive, black cock up my ass, and Che’s huge black manhood down my throat. I. Was. In. Heaven. Sams had a view of all the debauchery from below. He was reaching up and massaging Che’s big, black balls as they slapped against my chin. I don’t think I ever screamed louder in my life, but the giant cock in my mouth muffled my screams. With a smack to my ass and a loud grunt, Marcus’s huge, veiny, black snake spewed its venom into my ass. Che clamped his hands onto the back of my head and pounded my face even harder, about a dozen or so strokes later I was choking on Che’s salty load and doing my damnedest to swallow every drop.
I rolled onto my back next to Sams while I recovered from the fuck of my life. Meanwhile, Marcus sat down on Sams long cock and was riding the poor, little lobster for all he was worth. Che sat on his sunburned face and fed him his ass while Marcus’s ass milked him dry. I leaned over and suckled his nipples until he shot his load… We all did our best to work around his sunburn, but I’m sure he was hurting.
After our wild sex session, we put the burgers and fries in the microwave, ate our dinner, and watched a movie. We all fell asleep in the living room.
The next morning, we got dressed, then Sams and Marcus packed their stuff, and we went over to Seth and Zach’s for brunch and a final visit before we took them to the airport. We could hear the kids laughing, talking, and whining through the screen door when we got outta the car. When they realized we were there they came running out to greet us. Ali went right for Che, Freddy begged us all to play soccer after brunch, and Izzy was in a cheerleading uniform (apparently her latest obsession). She waited until we were all in the house before she rested her hands on her hips, yelled as loud as her tiny voice would let her, “Weddy? Okay! U-G-L-Y You aint got no alibi, you ugly yeah, yeah you ugly” then jumped around yelling “yay!” and shaking her rainbow colored pom poms. Ali was in Che’s arms cheering along with her. It was cute and we all laughed, but that was the moment things became clear for me.
The promise of money coming into our lives had Che and me talkin’ about the future. We talked about moving somewhere warmer, or maybe to a big city where we could reinvent ourselves. We had been talking and dreaming a lot recently. But at that moment, I knew what I wanted. I wanted what Seth and Zach had… a home, a family, each other. I knew I Wanted to make Wilmington my home. With Che.
To be continued…
