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Notes: Thank you for still following this story, I'm sorry
So much time has passed between chapters. Chapter 1-6 is
archived On Unit B and chapter 6 is #1208 on TSXF.
To cap off in the previous chapter Keller had been arrested for
murdering Perry Jordon, interviewed by FBI Agent Taylor and
the other Detectives. He didn't play their game prior to the
interview, he fell asleep surprising the detectives and had quite a
conversation with Beecher. Angus's family had been in Yosemite
Park on vacation when circumstances forced them to return
Beta assist: Beecher Jean who loves pushkas. I've
made some changes since Jean `fixed' it. She's not
responsible for any bloopers; they're mine, all mine!
Posted: TSFX, TS, and archived on Unit B.
Feedback: Always nice

On The Outside Series 7/? Dream A Little Dream Of Me

by Rifka

On The Outside Series 7/? Dream A Little Dream Of Me Author: Rifka Notes: Thank you for still following this story, I'm sorry So much time has passed between chapters. Chapter 1-6 is archived On Unit B and chapter 6 is #1208 on TSXF. To cap off in the previous chapter Keller had been arrested for murdering Perry Jordon, interviewed by FBI Agent Taylor and the other Detectives. He didn't play their game prior to the interview, he fell asleep surprising the detectives and had quite a conversation with Beecher. Angus's family had been in Yosemite Park on vacation when circumstances forced them to return home. Beta assist: Beecher Jean who loves pushkas. I've made some changes since Jean `fixed' it. She's not responsible for any bloopers; they're mine, all mine! Posted: TSFX, TS, and archived on Unit B. Feedback: Always nice

Formatting and I are not friends these days, I'm truly sorry if anything comes out looking wacky.


On The Outside Series Chapter 7

Angus kissed his wife goodnight. "I'll come back upstairs in just a little bit. I'm still pretty wound up from the ruckus at the park and the long flight home; a little scotch and soda is just the ticket for some relaxation.

"I love you, sweetie." He patted her arm and she answered, "I love you too, Gus".

Downstairs the answering machine was still blinking; it was silly of him to think it would stop of its own accord; whatever the message was it could wait a few more hours. Right now his overstuffed leather chair was ... calling his name - Angus... Angus and he listened.

He wondered how many messages were on it. The thought of leaving them alone was annoying, but he made himself comfortable and took a drag from his Sancho Panza cigar, one of several sent from his regular Cigar of the Month club.

Next thing he knew his wife was kissing him on the cheek. A partially smoked cigar was still in his hand and an empty glass sat on the side table. He'd fallen asleep in the chair.

"Good morning, Gus. I checked the messages and there's a few from your brother. Maybe you should go see Toby this morning," she said giving him a kiss on the lips this time. "Are you taking the day off? I made a fresh pot of coffee, would you like a cup?" She handed him a mug of steaming black coffee.

"Talk to Toby? Why? Is he on the phone?" Angus tried to rub the `sleep' out of eyes, remembering how his mother always said her two boys looked alike when they tried to wake up.

"No, honey. There were eight messages from him and each one sounded... well they sounded more panicky or pleading. No, those aren't the words I want. It's desperate, frantic." Michelle Beecher said.

"Desperate? Frantic?" asked Angus with a worried lilt to his tone.

"You know the voice he gets when he's real upset? This Sounds like his real upset voice," she said.

"I'll call McManus and see if he knows what's going on. I'm too tired to drive that far if it`s something I can handle over the phone." It seemed like in the past month his big brother was always on edge.

"I don't like you going out there at all. It's bad enough your brother's in there and then I think of Harrison and worry until you walk through that door. Ever since that friend of his was set free, it's like Toby's more on edge than ever. I wonder if the prison doctors ever give them antidepressants? I think it might help him. Sometimes I wonder why they just don't medicate all of them," she said.

"I'll call McManus and see if he knows what's going on. I'm too tired to drive that far if it`s something I can handle over the phone." It seemed like in the past month his big brother was always on edge.

"I don't like you going out there at all. It's bad enough your brother's in there and then I think of Harrison and worry until you walk through that door. Ever since that friend of his was set free, it's like Toby's more on edge than ever. I wonder if the prison doctors ever give them antidepressants? I think it might help him. Sometimes I wonder why they just don't medicate all of them," she said.

"Yeah, that would sure make some lives a little easier wouldn't it?" Angus said thinking of the brother he used to look to for advice and guidance. But now Angus was the one expected to be the perfect son, the perfect husband and father, the perfect lawyer.

Gus poured another cup of coffee while he listened to the phone messages.

"Well, Toby does sound agitated and a little incoherent... It doesn't make any sense. Listen, he says `call me, Sister Pete's checking on it until you get back'. Then he mentions something about Keller."

"You don't think he's drinking or using heroin again do you?" she asked.

"At this point I don't know what to think. But no, I don't think Toby would risk his sentence being extended or his parole being denied again. I don't think he or the kids could handle that."

The phone rang. Michelle answered it taking the phone into another room while Angus continued to listen to his brother's messages.

"Gus that was your mother," she said after returning to the room. "She said Toby's called her quite a few times asking her if you've come home yet. She's very concerned; she wants you to talk to him and then call her back. I wonder what's going on? Do you think anything's happened to him?" she said apprehensively.

"Honey you know I love you with all my heart and I trust your instincts but I really don't think anything's wrong this time. When I'm in town Toby uses me as his umbilical cord and now with Keller out of the picture, me being on vacation... well he has no one to anchor him. He always felt safe when Dad was around, relatively speaking."

"I trust you, dear; I'll wait till you tell me what's going on. I think I'll wake the kids up and... no, on second thought I'm letting them sleep a little longer; I need some quiet time for *me*."

Angus listened to all of Toby's messages again hoping there was something he could make sense out of. It was like some word puzzle and he was missing a letter. The only thing to do was call Tim McManus using his direct line. The Beecher men were good lawyers-that was a given; Gus was no exception. He'd given Tim very convincing reasons why it would benefit him, Sister Pete, and his brother if he had the private number. McManus bought the line of bull; hook, line, and sinker, thinking how alike the Beecher brothers were. They could have made quite a team in court if only the eldest hadn't fucked up his life so badly.

Tim was at his desk thinking of new ideas to help the inmates educate themselves when the phone rang. He cradled the phone with his left shoulder, "Gus Beecher, what a pleasant surprise. What's on your mind?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the load of phone calls from my brother?"

"Haven't you read the paper or listened to the news? Jesus, where have you been? Your brother's in a snit because Keller's been arrested for murder. Seems Agent Taylor finally got his man. And, Sister Pete and I think he's really going to do something stupid this time. So how long will it take you to get down here?"


Later, McManus called Sister Pete, "Is Toby working today or is he still pacing in his cell?"

"Well, he's here and sort of working, but not exactly paying a lot of attention to me or the work. I'm afraid it's going to pile up again."

"Can you send him to my office? Gus is here to speak with him."

"Finally! I'll go with him, Tim."


Toby stopped dead in his tracks; his brother was right ahead, talking to McManus. He tried to lip read, but his squinting distorted it. He couldn't tell anything by their body language. Gus stood there with his arms folded across his chest and McManus was gesticulating which could mean anything.

"Gus, where the fuck have you been? Why didn't you call me back? The one time I really need your help and ..."

"Hey, hold on there a minute, Big Brother, this isn't the first time you've asked for my help, and I'd swear on Dad's grave it won't be the last. McManus, can we have a little privacy? Do you have a room we can use?"

"Sure, why don't the two of you use my office?" Sister Pete volunteered. "I'll just take both of you down there and then Tim; I'll meet you and Sean for a coffee break." She said, looking at Tim and then at the brothers. "You'll be more comfortable there."

"Timmy, let's go. The sooner you get out of here... the sooner you get back to work." Sean Murphy put his hand on McManus's shoulder and slowly propelled him out the door towards the break area.

In Sister Pete's office, Gus said, "Toby, sit down and tell me what's going on."

He sat down but stood up almost immediately, pacing the room, gesturing with his hands, very agitated. "Keller's been arrested for murder. I heard something on the news and asked Sister Pete to check on it and his parole officer confirmed it. But I don't know where they've taken him. He didn't do it, not Chris... not this time," he said, his voice edged with tension.

"How can you be so sure?" Gus asked.

"Gus, I know Chris. I know how his mind works; I know how he's wired. I *know* he's innocent. That asshole Agent Taylor has had a hard on for him for years and that bastard's set him up again," he said, the vein in his forehead bulging.

"You don't know that for sure. He's an FBI agent, Toby! He has to work by the standards set down by the agency... he can't do what he wants... make up his own rules as he goes along. I'm sure he had plenty of evidence to arrest him. Just like last time," Gus said jangling loose change in his pocket.

"Listen to yourself Gus! Are you as dumb, stupid and blind as you sound?" Toby said, his face getting hot.

Gus took a deep breath. Shouting wouldn't help. He poured himself a cup of bitter, lukewarm coffee; Sister Pete had told him to make himself at home, but this coffee was like nothing he'd tasted before. He swallowed it with a grimace.

In a steady voice he said, "Toby, I know you're upset. I'm tired, I'm jet lagged, the kids are cranky, Michelle is exhausted so please, don't piss me off, OK? Let's just deal in facts not conjecture. There are only two jails he could have been taken to, so it shouldn't be hard to track him down. Let me find out some answers, you go back to whatever you were doing, in fact why don't you ask Sister Pete to give you something for your nerves? I don't think I've ever seen you so worked up... well, not in a long time anyway," Angus said.


In the common area the men were relaxing before dinner; some were watching TV, playing chess or cards or just hanging out. And then there was Busmalis, speed walking around the perimeter.

Ryan, Toby and Bob were sitting at one of the middle tables playing cards. There was the usual back and forth banter going on, but then Toby felt a pair of eyes boring into him.

"What already?" Toby snapped at Ryan, clearly annoyed.

"Have you heard the latest?" Ryan asked narrowing his eyes. It was that look of smugness he used whenever he had leverage

"I never have yet when you asked me that, so why should now be any different?" Toby asked.

Ryan lowered his shifty eyes staring at Beecher. "They lost... no, how did they put it? They misplaced him. Ask me if I give a shit?"

"Who, for Christ's sakes?"


"They misplaced him? How? Where?"

"In jail," Ryan mocked. "They can't find him."

"Oh fuck!" Toby said throwing his cards down, scattering them on the floor like it was a game of 52 card pick-up. He stood up, kicked the chair out of his way, and then stormed out of Em City. A CO was watching the drama unfold, his hand on his night stick just in case.

"Hey, where ya going? I've got a winning hand here!" Ryan hollered after him.


"What do you mean he's not in your system? He's not here and he wasn't at the Madison Street Jail either, what did you do with him?" Angus asked the desk Sergeant at the police station.

"Don't know, don't care. He's not in the computer so it's not my problem. You're the attorney, you find him. Or contact the DA's office, they should know where he is," the sergeant said.


"Sister Pete this is Gus Beecher. Is Toby with you? No? Actually I'm glad he's not. Listen, I can't track Keller down at either jail, and this might sound cold hearted and cruel, but I'm not sure just how much I can invest in this... situation."

"You mean financially?" Sister Pete asked, clearly surprised Gus would even think of allowing something like that to stand in the way.

"No, I mean emotionally. Helping Toby with Keller is... "

"Draining?" Sister Pete answered for him, knowing the feeling all too well.

"Exactly! I love my brother and want him to be happy, but under these circumstances; when I know how Keller's fucked him up in the past. I'm sorry Sister." Gus said, not thinking of how often she would hear bad language in a prison.

"That's ok, Gus. Go on," she said.

"Every time I turn around, there's something else. It interferes with my practice and home life, and in the long run I don't think it's the best thing for Toby," Gus said.

Sister Pete paused and sighed deeply, trying to find the right words.

"Gus, your brother and Chris Keller have one of the strangest, most complicated relationships I've ever seen. But they're tied at the hip and that's never going to change. When we help one, we help the other or we destroy them both by refusing to help them. They've done enough damage to themselves over the years. I... I... really don't know how much more they can take. You know how I feel about your brother, and my feelings for Chris change like the phases of the moon, but the one thing that's constant in all of this is the fact that they actually, deeply love one another, and that's something all of us need to acknowledge and finally accept."

But then like a bolt of lightening it hit her. "What do you mean you can't locate Chris? He is in jail isn't he?"

"You did make the calls you told Toby you were going to make didn't you? You talked to his parole officer, right? Didn't he tell you where they took Keller?" asked Gus.

She just stood there like a little puppet, shaking her head no and rubbing the cross around her neck. "No, no he didn't say which jail they took him to. Listen, are you going to help your brother with this or not?"

"He's my brother. I can't turn my back on him, even though I'd like to! But this new situation sort of changes things doesn't it? Please tell Toby I'm working on it, ok? Then I'll figure out what my next step is," Angus said hoping they'd never find Christopher Keller.


There was a light knock at the door.

Tucker was already coming in, not waiting for any type of permission.

"Enter. The door's..."

"I know, always open," Taylor said sarcastically, then under his breath he mumbled, "Everyone's door is always open."

"Oh, Taylor! I forget you just open doors whenever you feel Like it. Have a seat; I've wanted to ask you something." She poured herself a cup of coffee. "Want some?"

"Sure," Taylor said sneering at her. "I bet it tastes fresh, not like the typical fourteen hour old precinct coffee."

"It *is* fresh. The reason I want to talk to you..." She stared at his jaw, which was still reddened, and a black and blue mark that had visibly formed. She guessed he'd been belted by Keller's boyfriend; it sure didn't take a Rhodes Scholar to figure that one out. She cleared her throat.

"I was wondering, when you'd get to the point of this," he said stony-faced.

"I heard you were using our suspect's picture for target practice. Were you?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"You believe everything you hear?" he asked; his furrowed brow was in dire need of a botox injection.

"My sources are pretty reliable. It doesn't bode well for you if that's what you're doing. Sounds to me like you might be taking this case too personally, especially considering the history the two of you have."

"We have no *history*. I'm the good guy, he's the bad guy... bang, bang, he's dead. How and what I use for target practice, is not your concern, Charlotte." He placed his hands on her desk as he slowly stood up and sneered at her before he walked to the door.

"I'm only here as an advisor, remember? So take my advice. Why don't you concentrate on your case? And stay out of the bureau's affairs."

His hand was on the doorknob ready to leave. He turned his head and looked at her, "There wasn't any implied threat in your little speech, was there?"


"What the fuck are *you* looking at?" Keller asked.

"One hot piece of meat." His cellmate said.

"Yeah, well I'm off the menu."

"You look like you need a blow job."

"Need? Fuck yeah, I *need* a blow job, but what makes you think I'd want one from your sorry ass?"

"Because we're cut out of the same fabric."

"No. We're not. I'm not at all like you." Chris said.

"Yeah, you are. You're just a con with a hankering for cock; you know, any port in a storm. Could be wrong; but I won't say no. Give or take."

"Not in this lifetime, pal," Chris said then smiled wickedly.

"Your loss. If you change your mind, I'm right here."

"Yeah? Well, fuck you!" Chris said flipping him the bird.

Keller thought he was through with all this jailhouse shit; thought he'd left it all behind when he walked out of Oz. It would be nice to see his attorney in the morning, any attorney, even if it wasn't Angus. For all he knew it would be an eager beaver just out of law school, or some old geezer looking for that last buck to increase his pension. Thoughts of Taylor railroading him increased his adrenaline, coursing through his veins, into his heart and brain.

He lay on his cot, the mattress flattened through years of use by the dregs of society. Blankets thin, the stitching on the edges had disappeared long ago, either from frequent washings or someone's hands tightly clutching the edges hoping it would all go way. He tossed his pillow on the floor; it was old... old enough for the foam rubber to break apart, and the plastic cover zipped over it like a sandwich wrapper, reminded him of old sweat socks no matter how many times it was laundered. This was the part he had lied to other people about... handling it, the endless waiting, the outcome and his future unknown. For all his bravado he was always just a little bit antsy.

Really tired now, he turned towards the wall, drifting in and out of sleep, listening to the sounds of slumber around him. His mind finally let go of the shitty day he'd had, and he joined the others in a chorus of snores.

And dreams.


A wet dream, did they still call it that when you were in your 40's? Fuck, it felt so real, but he knew it was just a dream. Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then placed his fingers in his mouth, closed his eyes. Toby had to be dreaming of him, how else could he taste him... smell him?

"You should have let me give you a blow job like I wanted to earlier. I heard you moaning in your sleep. Don't worry; this won't be the first time someone's stood before the judge with come stains on his boxers," his cellmate said.

Chris stared at him and suddenly his dream came back to him. He sat up; his pupils dilated.

"Tell me about it," his cellmate said excitedly.

"Leave me the fuck alone. I ain't telling you shit", Chris answered sharply. No way was he sharing a dream like this. Tuning his cellmate's yammering out, he closed his eyes and remembered...

He was sitting with Toby, playing cards; the table was on the edge of the quad, not smack in the middle where everyone could hear what was going on. Chris's back was to the other slugs. He was feeling pretty damned good sitting next to Toby, even though they were hardly speaking to each other. But eye fucking each other? Damn right! They passed that class with flying colors. Excellent job. But now he was listening to Toby, watching his lips move. Unfuckinbelievable!

"Remember after you got out of PC, I was over there in my pod brushing my teeth?" Toby asked.

Hearing Toby was easy enough, he was speaking in a normal tone of voice. Chris didn't turn around to face him as his words came tumbling out.

Ok, I'll play, Chris thought. I don't know what he's up to. He was answering Toby but his voice was not as loud. He didn't want to be heard, he didn't want his face to show how he was feeling, not yet.

"Yeah, I said it'd been a long time since I kissed you. You pushed me away even after all I'd done, trying so hard to make it right between us. So what?"

That's when Toby turned towards him, his face soft, relaxed, just like it was that day in the laundry room except his face wasn't as round now. He'd lost weight, worked out; Chris really looked at him, his bone structure, the angles of his cheeks, his suckable lower lip.

He was smiling, grinning. Using that tongue of his, slowly back and forth, wetting his upper lip then clockwise, doing his lower lip. Chris was thinking, that's a look I can't trust. Then Toby was talking to him.

"I want you to kiss me."

"When?" It wasn't really a question, more a statement.

He stopped smiling, shrugged his shoulders. He was playing games. Fucking with Chris's head. He thought how good Toby was with words.

"My fucking feelings, Toby!" He said it sarcastically. He was so tired of hearing about Toby's feelings, like he was the only one with them.

Then Chris saw that small grin of his and he was touching Chris's shoulders; he reached out first. "Chris, are you mocking me? Because if... "

"Fuck no! You're nothing but a cock tease. A slut.. Nice legacy you're leaving for your kids."

Toby winked and wetting his lips almost in slow motion said, "Meet me in the storage room and prove it."

He was trying to hurt Chris now, reminding him of the shank. "No, that place's lethal."

Then he was telling Chris it was his turn to deal the cards. Chris didn't want to play cards. "Wait, wait, let's negotiate this." He was pleading. It wasn't coming out right, it was all wrong. Chris Keller did not *beg* for *any* sexual encounter.

Now Toby was laughing. It was directed right at Chris, there was no one else at the table.

"There's no negotiation, I fuck you today or..."

"Or what?" Answering, asking, he wasn't sure. He didn't want to hear Toby's answer.

Toby was looking at him, his blue eyes boring through Chris. "Then I take the offer off the table."

What the fuck? He got his answer out as fast as he could.

"Ok." Then he paused. He didn't want to sound too excited. He wanted to sound casual, like it was something they did every day, like it used to be. "When?"

"Starting now. Right here."

Now his hand was brushing against Chris's, and under the table Chris heard his shoe drop. Then he was rubbing his foot slowly up Chris's leg, snaking it up like he was going for a home run. No, he was stopping right above Chris's knee.

Fuck! That was frustrating.

But then Toby was shoving a plastic cup in his hand. He reached for it under the table, thinking, it's cold, there's ice in it. Where'd he get a glass of ice cubes? Then Chris saw O'Reily walk up the stairs, stand at the railing, smiling. Made sense, they were butt buddies now.

Toby took the ice back, Chris's hand still on the cup. He put it between his legs. Cocksucker.

Toby was making his snorting sound, throwing two cards down. Chris saw his lips moving but he only caught one word, "...finger."

At the same time Chris was wondering, how can he keep his mind split like that, doing a card game and doing me? Then he remembered; Toby was a Harvard man.

Chris caught part of the sentence. Toby was growling at him.

"...pay attention to *me*, this is your last chance. Get it?" He was cackling now. But then he leaned over and whispered, "You still want to fuck me don't you?"

He was playing solitaire! It was another of his mind fucks but Chris was shaking his head yes. He'd try anything; he'd taken plenty of risks in my life. This was nothing. What was the worst that could happen? He'd get thrown in the hole?

Chris leaned in close, listening to what Toby was saying; all the while Toby was rubbing his shoeless foot on Chris's leg, but it wasn't getting any higher than Chris's knee. Chris's cock was twitching. He wanted to get it out of his pants and start stroking. Just having Toby talk to him was getting him hard.

He looked up at Toby. He had missed a few words and was praying Toby wouldn't stop.

"...now put another one in your mouth. *Keller*! This is it. Absolutely your last warning or I'm walking away this second. Do I have your attention now?"

"Yeah," it's all Chris can manage to say.

"I want to see you sucking my fingers. Do something with your mouth so I can tell you're with me. We are on the same page aren't we?"

Chris wanted to say, Go to hell, you cunt. But he didn't; he was still playing Toby's game. He pretended he had three of Toby's fingers in his mouth. He sucked his cheeks in and out, opened his mouth, let Toby see his tongue moving like those digits were really in there. A little saliva was running down his chin. Toby liked what he saw and nodded his head.

"Now you're with me Keller," he looked at Keller with that manic grin of his.

Yeah, I'm with him, Chris thought. Shit, Chris could *feel* him. Knew what everything felt and tasted like, inside... outside. Toby's body was like a road map. Chris knew every twist and turn, every curve and tunnel leading to places he'd been before and hoped he'd go again and again, just like a kid in Disneyland, discovering new thrills every time he rode his favorite ride.

Keller paused, savoring the memory of the dream.

It was the way Toby was sitting there; so sexy, so seductive, and Chris couldn't take his eyes off him. He was hypnotized, following Toby's directions.

He wanted to get up from the table, go off somewhere, jerk off. His cock was aching. He started to rub his crotch with the heel of his hand for some pressure. He wanted to come right then and there.

Then Toby spoke again, his voice sounding like it came from a few feet away, but then Chris tuned him in.

"Keller? Keller? I want to see your hands on the table, now."

He couldn't stop. He kept rubbing and rubbing.


"Are you giving me an order, Toby?"

He snapped his fingers at Chris. Was that supposed to scare him? Chris put his hands on the table so Toby could see he wasn't playing with himself anymore.

Then - Chris couldn't believe what happened next - Toby took a quick glance around the room and then sucked on his middle finger. It was like he was fucking his own mouth with his finger. It was beautiful. Then he puckered his mouth and slowly pushed one finger in and then another. In and out. In and out.

Then Toby stopped his performance and asked, "Chris, do you know what it feels like? I mean do you realize what it means to fuck someone, make love to them? Be inside their body? I don't mean being in their mouth. Actually have your dick inside someone? Did you ever think about it?"

And then he was doing it again. In and out. In and out.

That was when Chris came.


Toby woke up in a cold sweat, the image of that poor little girl smashed like a fly on his windshield haunting his mind. Again. Always. Forever. Poor, poor Kathy Rockwell. It wasn't only her Family keeping her memory alive; it was Toby holding on to it too, never giving himself permission to let it go.

He didn't even bother getting out of bed to his change his damp t-shirt; using the top sheet as a towel he dried his chest and back, then flipped the pillow over to find a dry area for his head. Trying to slow his racing heart, he placed his right arm over his eyes, blocking the world out, trying not to dream of her again.

This time he didn't.

They were in a forest, listening to the birds chirping, hearing the wind blowing through the branches of the trees, smelling the fresh scent of pine. Chris was on his knees in front of Toby, his hands gripping well developed thighs, his mouth filled and buried in Toby's crotch. He placed his hands on Chris's head; gently at first, then demanding him to suck harder, deeper, use more suction on the head of his cock, telling him how to stroke and pump his shaft.

Still holding Chris's head, tugging at his short brown hair he pulled Chris's mouth off him. Instructing Chris again on how to use his tongue, up and down along the length, around the girth of it, around the ridge of the head, down the other side, along the vein. All the erotic sensitive places Toby liked. It was imperative that Chris learn what he liked, what he craved, what he demanded in a partner.

"Put it back in your mouth and suck it again. Yeah, just like that." Toby closed his eyes, concentrating only on himself, his pleasure. "Oh yeah! You're a quick learner, Chris, but you can do better, man, I know you can. Do what I told you. Yeah, that's the spot, do it again. Right there. Suck harder. More suction. Keep sucking. I like fucking your mouth," he whispered while rocking his hips and moaning with pleasure. "Keep sucking."

Toby opened his eyes, watching as Chris unzipped his pants, his cock released, standing at attention, the head glistening with pre-come. He saw Chris reach for his cock.

"No, Keller, not this time, I'm the only thing you're focusing on. You got that?"

Toby's cock slipped out of Chris's mouth and his voice cracked. "Is that an order?"

With a crazed look in his eyes Toby said, "Fuck... yes!"


Kitty Keller was moping around in her living room, restless, the break-up with her boyfriend not helping her mood any. Opening a bottle of Merlot and pouring herself a rather large portion, she turned the TV on making herself comfortable on the plush blue couch.

The news was on and the reporter, his tie matching his co-anchor's dress, was reading the teleprompter:

"The police had questioned Keller and according to a reliable source, the DA will be asking for the death penalty. According to an FBI agent who is very familiar with the suspect's history, the sentence would be justified. The police had questioned Keller two years ago relating to a series of homosexual murders. The same FBI agent was on that case and Keller was sentenced to death for one of the murders. He was recently released from prison on a technicality. More on this story when..."

"Chris... Chris, what have you done now? Oh honey, why don't you ever learn? You were given the opportunity of a lifetime; a chance at a new life and you blew it. Oh fuck! I never should have told him I slept with you. Damn you Chris Keller! Damn you to hell!"


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