The guys were all settling into their new home. They were amazed at the high quality of garbage people would leave out on the street, and so they decorated with various pieces of junk they had found abandoned. The pad was really beginning to shape up and look like…well…the pad. You know, a kind of eclectic ambience. And suddenly the place didn't seem as big as it did when it was empty, but it did feel like home. The boys managed to find themselves temporary jobs while Mike scoured the clubs looking for a gig. That wasn’t difficult with all of Peter’s friends. Mike couldn’t help thinking how strange it was that everyone seemed to be friends with everyone else – like one big, happy family, blah.

Things were actually going pretty well for them. They had fallen into a routine that was reminiscent of their days in California (sans the surfing), and they had many more gigs than they ever expected, enough so that they could quit their day jobs. Mike started writing some new songs, which were beginning to have a slightly different sound, though he wasn’t sure exactly what that sound was, but definitely hipper – less bubblegum. He didn’t care. He was just happy for the change. Everyone was happy – ah happiness, and once again – life was good. But alas, trouble was on the horizon and yet again, the good times were about to end.

With the little extra pocket money, they each began to treat themselves to those denied pleasures they had learned to live without (not always a bad thing). While Mike continued to work hard at getting the band gigs and writing new songs, the others were out exploring all the possibilities that their new friends and home offered. Davy would disappear on his own every night to god knows where. The others assumed he was out chasing girls, successfully, since he rarely made it home till dawn.

Peter started checking out all his old haunts, and eventually made it back to an infamous little nook on Macdougal street where the locals hung out and got high. It was just a small apartment above a café who’s door was always open to anyone who wanted to party; a comfortable and safe place to do drugs and meet fellow musicians and artists. Peter already knew many of the people there. The place was the home of a woman named Crystal, who was an ex-beatnik, and now aging hippy. She made available every drug that anyone could possibly want, and always seemed to have an endless supply of grass and acid – everyone’s favorites. The brood that frequented her place was all much younger than she was, and so they all affectionately called her mom. Mom did in fact try to take care of them by feeding their heads, and always making sure no one was unhappy or depressed. She truly did care about her little family, as she referred to them, but she really didn’t have a clue as to how to go about it. To her, any mind or mood altering substance always made you feel better and therefore, can only be a good thing. Crystal was part mother, part doctor, and part pharmacist – tell her what ails you and she’ll prescribe something for it. Peter would wander into Mom’s almost every night, usually after a gig. He felt the best way to unwind was to sit around and smoke some grass or hash, and meet all the people that wandered through the place.

Charlie started becoming a permanent fixture in the pad, since she only lived a few blocks away. So, who is this Charlie person anyway? Well, she’s your typical liberal, sixties chick. Cute, in an average sort of way. Average height. Perhaps a little on the thin side from too many drugs. Long brown hair; dark blue eyes. She wouldn’t stand out in a crowd – though she has great legs! She’s a real free spirit with a sometimes boyfriend known only as Butch.

Micky was pretty much left to himself most of the time. Davy was not interested in having him tag along, in fact, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid everyone. Peter was reluctant to bring Micky with him to Moms, and with Mike concentrating on the business end of the band he had little time to spend with the others. So Micky was becoming a little lonely in the big, new city. What with his friends all too busy for him, he was starting to feel a bit neglected, and he found his new surroundings to be too intimidating to venture out on his own, after all, this was his first time out of southern California, and there wasn’t a surfboard in sight. Eventually, he managed to capture Mike at a time between songwriting and band promotion to get some advice on the situation. The truth is that Micky was a little more than interested in Charlie, and since Mike was the only one she ever spoke to, he thought it might be a good place to start.

“Mike” he said. “What do you think of Charlie?”

Mike paused for a minute. “I don’t know. She seems like a nice person. Why do you ask?” after another pause, he added. “She’s got a boyfriend you know.”

“I didn’t say I was interested in her. I was just curious what you thought…and Butch is only her boyfriend when he’s around. Most of the time he’s gone.”

“Oh yeah... Butch. So, why do you want to know?”

“Its just that... she never talks to me.”

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

“O.k. I lied. Why doesn’t she like me?”

“I think she likes you, Mick, It’s just that you never stand still long enough to have a conversation with her.”

“She scares the hell out of me.”

“Well, she’ll probably drop by today, why don’t you stick around and try to talk to her.”

As Mike was finishing his sentence, the front door flew open and conveniently, in walked guess who? “Hi guys.” Charlie said as she took a seat on the couch near Mike.

“Hi Charlie” Micky managed to get out with a shy smile, but immediately got up to go hide in the bedroom; an automatic response lately whenever Charlie came into the room. Mike looked at him with disbelief.

“Mick, where ya goin?” and the bedroom door closed. Charlie didn’t seem to notice, she picked up the newspaper Micky had just left behind and began to read. Mike was starting to understand what Micky was talking about. She really didn’t know that Micky existed. So Mike thought he’d give him a little help. “So Charlie, how’s Butch these days?” he asked her with feigned interest.

“Butch?” she answered with slight amusement. “He’s been gone for weeks. Why?”

“Oh, no reason - just wondering why we haven’t seen him around.”

“Actually, I’ve been so desperate I thought about taking Davy’s offer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean... I would except... he’s just so damn short – you know?”

“Ah – yeah. I know what you mean – to bad, huh.”

“And I can’t do Peter, ‘cause he’s like my brother.”

“Hmm”

“Well, there’s always you, Mike.” She said as she inched her way a little closer to him.

“Sorry babe, I’m not exactly available. Hey, what about Micky?”

“Micky? Oh, I don’t think so. He’s so childish.”

“No he’s not. He’s child-like.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yeah there’s a difference. Why don’t you talk to him – he’s tall too.”

“I don’t know Mike. I don’t think he’s my type.”

“I think your wrong – he’s exactly your type and he likes you a lot. Besides, he’s been kinda' lonely lately and he could really use a new friend.”

“Really?” she paused giving the matter some thought. “You think he’s any good in bed?”

“Well, now I can’t speak from experience, but I’ve never heard of any complaints.”

“Hmm... Micky, huh?”

Mike got up from the too cozy position Charlie had put him in, and opened the bedroom door. “Mick, I have to go out – why don’t ya come out here and keep Charlie company.” He left the door open and started for the front door with a quick last word to Charlie, “Just talk, O.K. I got some errands to run – I’ll see ya later.”

Mike didn’t stick around to see the mortified look on Micky’s face, but Micky pulled himself together, took a deep breath, and walked into the living room where Charlie was reading his paper. He gave a little sigh and made his way over to the couch. What would he say to her? It would be easier if Mike hadn’t left. He sat down on the other end of the couch and grabbed a pillow to hold on to for emotional support, while Charlie sat there going through the paper.

“Hi Mick,” she finally said.

“Hi,” he barely got out.

She looked up from the paper and smiled. “Micky, you don’t have to baby-sit me, I was about to leave anyway.” She said as she threw down the paper.

“No – don’t go. I’m not busy. We can…we can talk.” Micky realized his voice sounded a little desperate.

“O.k. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.”  Silence.  But Micky willed himself to talk to her like Mike told him to. “Charlie, how come you never talk to me?” That's what came out, but not really what he meant to say.

“What? I talk to you… don’t I?”

“No... You talk to Mike all the time, and you talk to Peter. And I even see you talk to Davy sometimes, but you never talk to me. Why?”

“Wow Micky, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I guess it’s just that we really don’t have a whole lot in common.”

“Oh.” Micky said as he looked down at the pillow he was hugging.

Charlie realized her unsympathetic response must have stung; so feeling a tinge of guilt; she slid her way over to Micky to get a closer view. She always thought he was kind of cute, in a goofy sort of way; but the way he was just then: serious and quiet, he could be quite devastating, and she was reminded of her original goal: to get laid – pure and simple. So what if she found him a bit childish, he was obviously not a little boy – at least, not on the outside. She continued to take him all in as he played with a loose string on his security pillow.

“You know, you’re very cute when you’re like this,” she flirted.

“Like what?” He answered with a cute confused expression that she found irresistable.

“Normal. Not all crazy and loud and jumpy. Just normal – calm.”

“Calm?!” He looked up at her and gave her a gentle, shy smile. Funny she would choose to describe him as calm – he didn’t feel calm at all, in fact he felt nervous and depressed. At least she finds him normal, he thought, and that gave him enough courage to continue the conversation. “So that’s why you don’t talk to me? I’m too jumpy?”

“Yeah – well, you make me kinda' nervous.”

“I make *you* nervous? Wow, I didn’t think I had that effect on anyone.”

“I like this Micky, though.

“You don’t have to say that ‘cause Mike told you to.”

“He didn’t.”

“Really?”

“Cross my heart…”

“But you like Mike.”

“Yeah, but can't I like you too?”

“I just wish I wasn’t second choice… or third… or fourth. You like Peter and Davy too.”

“Well…now that I see your other side, I would definitely make you my first choice.”

“I think your just trying to make me feel better.”

“No, really. I mean you’re much cuter than Davy, and you can be just as sweet as Peter.”

“Oh yeah? And what about Mike? Am I as smart as Mike?”

“Hmm… well – two out of three, babe.”

Micky smiled to himself at all her flattery. He knew he wasn’t as cute as Davy, or as sweet as Peter, or as smart as Mike; but she made him feel better and it was kind of her to try. Though he didn’t quite believe her, and he couldn’t help wondering why she was being so nice to him all of a sudden. What could she possibly want from him? Truth was, he didn’t much care at this point. She was cute and fun, and trying her hardest to be sweet – and those great legs were being generously exposed thanks to the plaid mini-skirt she was wearing. They decided to take a walk in the park and get to know each other a little better.

It was a beautiful, sunny, winter day to be in Washington Square Park. So many people. So much activity. Amid the bustle and disorder were flocks of students sprawled on the lawns, intent on their studies; while dogs barked, children squealed, and musicians practiced. The central fountain, which because of the cold March weather wasn’t a fountain at all, but a large circular stage for anyone who wanted to perform, speak, or protest was always a good spot to view all the action. Today’s spontaneous performance was a folk singer who had attracted quite a large audience of NYU students gathered around the circle. Charlie and Micky sat down there facing the arch where yet another gathering was assembled. A religious speaker attempting to persuade all the sinners of the city to repent before Armageddon. Actually, most of the spectators were just trying to get to the hot-dog cart that was nearby.

With all the commotion, the park was really a very romantic place to be. There are so many people that everyone becomes invisible – you may as well be alone. Charlie closed her eyes and listened intently to the singer and his guitar, managing to drown out the cacophony of her surroundings.

Micky watched her as she smiled with a relaxed pleasure. She looked so pretty with her cold-blushed cheeks and nose; and her long, dark lashes were such a sharp contrast to her snowy, white skin (skin this color just didn’t exist in sunny California.) He wondered how she had learned to ignore all the other sounds and pick out only what she wanted to hear: the music. He was too distracted by all the people. How disciplined, he thought. He wished he could force himself to concentrate on one thing like that, but he was always too anxious or jumpy. Just then he realized he was concentrating on something despite all the distractions; he was concentrating on Charlie, and he yearned to lean over and kiss her smiling lips, but instead he brushed some wind-blown hair off her face and was satisfied to simply touch her cheek. It brought her out of her musical trance though, and she turned to him without any hesitation, and the same smile on her face, and kissed him. It was his turn to go into a trance, and he could finally hear nothing, but the singer and his guitar in the background of their kiss. He pulled away from her, with a slightly bewildered look on his face, which she found amusing, and then with greater confidence he kissed her back – long and slow. And they stayed that way for a long while, oblivious to their surroundings and the cold.

So Charlie’s original intent was starting to gel. She poured on her sex appeal to lure Micky into her bed, and it worked like a charm. Though he didn’t need all that much influencing; he was already enthralled by her, and he was falling in deeper with every kiss. But it was getting late and she obviously couldn’t screw him there in the middle of the park, so Charlie decided to take him to her apartment where she could get down to some real business. She dragged him down the streets of the village as if she were a desperate woman in need of a good fix. When she opened the door to her apartment, she found a party going on courtesy of her roommate Brenda. Not that that bothered Charlie, she dragged Micky to an empty corner of the bedroom, ripped off his coat and proceeded to continue where she had left off in the park. This was something Micky wasn’t as sure about. He was used to a little more privacy when it came to sex. But that didn’t stop Charlie. She lunged at him breathlessly. Finally, he grabbed her by her shoulders to get her off of him.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she breathed between kisses.

“Charlie, I can’t do this here – not like this. I’m really not into group sex.”

“There’s no group - it’s just you and me, baby.”

“Can’t we wait... till the party’s over?”

“How ‘bout we go to your place?”

“I live with three roommates!”

“This party could go on all night, Mick.”

“Well, how about if you let me take you out to dinner? Maybe by the time we get back the party will be over.”

“How romantic. Will there be candlelight too?” she said with sarcasm.

“Please?”

So they left the party in search for a place to kill some time, and wound up at a small bohemian café on Christopher Street. They talked some more, but Charlie wasn’t really interested in conversation. She seemed distracted by all the lovely young men sharing espressos with each other, unfortunately for her, she new they were all probably gay. So she returned her attention to Micky. And his confidence was beginning to fade again; he was starting to catch on, but he was falling for her, and he really needed someone right now, so he tried not to let it bother him. She was obviously after one thing, and maybe if he could triumph in her seemingly only interest, then he could win her over completely.

“Where did you get the name ‘Charlie’?” he couldn’t resist asking her.

“It’s short for Charlotte” she answered impatiently. “Hey, whadaya' say we head back now?”

They got up and started back for Charlie’s apartment, only to find that the party was at its peak with no end in sight. “See. I told you it wouldn’t be over,” she said.

Micky was so afraid of disappointing her that he decided to take the chance that everyone would already be asleep at the pad, and he took her there in the hope that he was right. As they walked the streets a hundred obstacles went through his mind, and how to pull this off. It was after eleven, and they had a gig tomorrow, so Mike and Peter would probably be in bed. He wasn’t so sure about Davy though. With any luck Davy would stay out all night, but there was no way to be certain. And then where would he take her? Both bedrooms were out. There was the loft, but it was so cluttered with their instruments it may get too noisy – she seemed like the passionate type. The living room seemed like the only option. He would just have to hope no one had to use the bathroom, or get up for a mid-night snack. How could he possibly perform under all this pressure? But if he let her down now, he may never get another chance to make it up to her.

Meanwhile, back at the pad not much was going on. Mike and Peter were indeed asleep. Davy was up in the loft looking for his new pair of red maraca's that he wanted to use for tomorrow's gig, because they went so well with his yellow shirt he had planned on wearing. Unfortunately, there was no light up in the loft, especially at night when any window illumination didn’t reach that small secluded space. So, he had to rely on a flashlight that they kept there for that very reason, and he was too lazy to go down the stairs and switch on the living room lamps anyway. As he was digging through the clutter, Micky and Charlie quietly entered the room. Charlie took off her coat and made her way over to the couch, while a paranoid Micky scoped out the pad to confirm his reasoning. He gingerly peeked into both bedrooms to find a sleeping Mike, and a sleeping Peter, but just as he had suspected – no Davy. Oh well he thought, hopefully he won’t come home tonight, and he chained the door just in case. Then he went to join Charlie on the living room couch.

As quiet as they were, Davy heard something going on downstairs. He quickly turned off his flashlight in fear of burglars. When he looked through the loft railing he found an embraced couple on his living room couch. It was too dark to see exactly who they were, but he suspected it was Charlie with one of his roommates. Whoever he was, he was getting his shirt ripped off furiously. If he would only turn his head to the side to face the light, Davy could determine who the lucky Monkee was. “Hmm, it couldn’t be Peter – he’s in bed,” he whispered to himself. The anonymous boy was now sitting up with Charlie straddling his lap and hiding his face from Davy. All he could see was that she had her hands near his crotch obviously trying to get his pants off. Suddenly Davy realized he shouldn’t be watching this, at least out of some respect for his roommate – whoever he was. But the couple on the couch was well into their sexual party. He convinced himself that if he made himself known now, it would be worse than if he stayed – so he stayed. The girls clothes were strewn all over the floor, and though her back was to Davy, he could see she had a great body – especially her legs – yeah, that was definitely Charlie. But he never realized how much Mike and Micky look alike in the dark. Just a long, thin body with lots of dark floppy hair.

At that point it didn’t matter. He sat himself down quietly at the loft rail and watched on. Sometimes the light seemed to play tricks, and it didn’t look like any of his friends. Maybe it was someone else entirely, and Charlie was just using the pad for the night. That didn’t seem likely. Mike would never go for it. “Who is that?” He was determined not to rest until he found out. Now he could see the outline of Charlie’s head kissing her mystery dates neck, and making her way down his chest. She paused between his legs – a long pause, and the unknown Monkee was revealed when he let out a moan. Davy knew that voice all too well. “Wow, how could she choose Micky over me?” he whispered to himself. He could understand Mike – but Micky?!

Eventually, Davy got tired of waiting for the sex show to end, so he curled up on the loft floor and went to sleep, hoping not to reveal himself by snoring.

The next morning the living room looked as normal as ever – no evidence was left of what went on last night. He went downstairs quickly before anyone saw he was up there. Too late, Peter was already in the kitchen getting himself a bowl of cereal. So while Peter’s back was turned, he ran to the front door and pretended to come in, only problem was, he wasn’t wearing his coat, but Peter didn’t seem to notice. So Davy just planted a big smile on his face and said, “Good morning”.

“Hi, Davy. Where have you been all night?”

“Oh…you know…out.”

“Anyone special?”

“No.” He decided not to tell Peter what he was really doing all night because Peter would probably find his voyeuristic activity appalling – and he would be right. He was a bit ashamed of himself. On the other hand, it was kind of fun, and he may have picked up a few tips. He grabbed himself a bowl and a cereal box, and joined Peter at the table. The unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing came from the bathroom, followed by Mike, who also joined the group for breakfast. “Hey, Mike.” said Davy.

“Oh, I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.” answered Mike as he sat down.

“Yeah, well, I had a busy night.”

“You always have a busy night.”

“I’m not the only one.” Davy muttered. Mike and Peter looked at each other in a non-verbal query; and then shrugged in a simultaneous response, not knowing what Davy could be talking about. They went back to eating their corn flakes without another word. Then with his final spoonful, Peter got up and headed for the bedroom to get dressed. Without looking at Mike, Davy asked, “So, where’s Micky?”

“Still sleepin', I guess.”

“I'll bet.”

That night Davy waited up in the loft to see if Micky and Charlie were making the living room couch their little love nest. Sure enough, around eleven-thirty, they came for their nightly tryst. Davy just couldn’t help himself – he was hooked on live porn, and he felt so guilty because it was one of his best friends; but it was just too good to pass up. They really put on quite a show, even in the dark. In fact, they were down right amazing, and would sometimes last for hours. This went on almost every night that week, and all three looked forward to the following night when it would all take place again. Davy decided this was too good to keep to himself, and he thought Mike would really appreciate the scene. So, the next night at the predicted time, he tried to persuade Mike to sit with him up in the loft.

“Mike, come up stairs. I ‘ave somethin’ to show you,” Davy said trying to contain his excitement.

“What?” Mike answered. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Don’t touch the lights. Just come up here.”

“What are ya' gonna show me in the dark?” he said as he stumbled up the spiral stairs.

“Just sit down here, and wait.” Davy looked at his watch – it was almost show time. “Now you have to be real quiet,” he instructed.

“What is this all about, Davy? I’m tired.”

“Don’t worry, Mike. This’ll be very educational.”

“Educational?”

Just then, the front door opened – the couple was right on schedule.

“Shhh.” Davy insisted.

Micky went through his usual routine of checking the pad for awake roommates. When he found Mike’s bed empty he looked a little panicked, but Charlie convinced him that all was well, and he should stop being so paranoid about being caught in the act. He knew she was right; he was being silly, but his reasons were justified. He was afraid of Peter's disapproval, and of Mike's disappointment in him. Davy would probably applaud him, but he would also blab to the others, so he had to be just as careful about him. Micky didn’t know why he worried so much about what the others thought, but that’s just the way he was, and he couldn’t help it, especially when it came to Mike. He really looked up to Mike, and wanted his respect. The problem in this case was that Mike always seemed to avoid women. He would appreciate them from afar, but Micky couldn’t imagine Mike having sex with anyone – it’s kind of like imagining your parents doing it.

Despite his worries, Micky tried to relax and enjoy his very willing girlfriend with all she had to offer. She was always the aggressive one when it came to sex, which he was more than willing to give himself over to. She tried to get him to use the vacant bedroom, but he thought that would make Mike even angrier – god forbid he should have a girl in his own bedroom! Actually, it wouldn’t have bothered Mike at all; it was only Micky’s distorted perception that got in his way. Mike was no prude; he didn’t think any less of Davy with all of his sexual exploits, why should he think it would change things with him? But Davy was different, he was more confident and independent, and he didn’t care what Mike thought of him. Micky was supposed to be smart, and not girl-crazy, at least that’s how he wanted Mike to see him.

He took a seat on the living room couch and allowed this extremely passionate girl do with him whatever she wanted – and she did. She loved to be experimental and inventive when it came to love-making, but she always started out the same way: tearing his clothes off in a fury, then kissing him from neck to crotch where she would linger for some time.

Meanwhile, up in the loft...

“This is what you brought me up here for?” Mike whispered to Davy.

“Yeah. Just wait though – it’s worth it.”

“Are you kidding? We can’t do this!”

“Why not?”

“Well…’cause it ain’t right – that’s why not.”

“C’mon Mike, Micky would do the same thing if we gave ‘im the chance.”

“Yeah. Except he’d wait till just the right moment to jump out and scare the hell out of everyone.”

“See? So relax. Here, I brought snacks.” Davy handed him a bowl of something he couldn’t make out at first in the dark.

“Raisonettes?”

“It’s the only thing I could find that wouldn’t make any crunching noise.”

“I guess popcorn's out then.”

“Shhh. They might hear us.”

“I think there’s too much heavy breathing goin' on down there for them to hear us.”

Mike and Davy could barely see anything in the dim light from the street lamps through the window, but that worked to their advantage, because they were completely encased in darkness up in their loft. Besides, what couldn’t be seen could be left to their imaginations. For now, all they saw was Charlie on her knees with her head buried between Micky’s legs. Micky rested his head back on the top of the couch and gave that soft moan.

“Wow!” Mike whispered to Davy. “That’s the same moan he sings all the time.”

“Yeah, I know – but now it has meaning.”

“Why is he pushing her head away? Is he crazy?”

“It’s a brilliant move, actually – great strategy.”

“Ohhh…I get it.”

Charlie made her way into second position: "the straddle". Once there, she barely seemed to move at all, only the bottom half of her body – very slowly. Micky was trying desperately to restrain himself; he didn’t want to ruin it for her, but it only got more difficult as she got more passionate. He let her pump him as hard and fast as she wanted until she finally came; then he prepared himself for her seconds, which was about to begin. Charlie continued into her next orgasm almost immediately. She could do this all night if only Micky were able, but he could only go for so long, and he knew the next one would probably be her last – he hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“Wow – what endurance” Mike said with a mouthful of raisonettes.

“He does have discipline when he puts his mind to it.”

“I’m very impressed.” Just then, Mike accidentally allowed a stray raisonette to drop; which bounced off the railing and landed on the floor down below with a barely audible thud. Mike and Davy froze, holding their breath for fear they would be discovered. God! How would they explain themselves? Their voyeurism was bad enough, but the snacks made the planning part all too obvious. Luckily for them, Charlie was in her third height of ecstasy and Micky was about to give in to his first. So they probably didn’t hear anything, or if they did – they didn’t care. Mike and Davy relaxed again, and Mike vowed to be more careful. They could hear Micky say something to Charlie, but they couldn’t make out what it was. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him and held on to her tightly. Every breath brought on another quintessential Micky moan, each one with a little more volume than the last. He knew he needed to be quieter, but he couldn’t help it – he was a naturally loud person. They both finally settled down to a mere heavy panting, and Charlie released herself from him, flopping down on the couch in exhaustion. Micky tried to lie down next to her, equally exhausted, but there wasn’t really enough room for the both of them, so he had to lie on his side squeezed between her and the back of the couch.

Mike gave a mock standing ovation for the performance, till Davy stopped him. “They’re not done. That was only the first act.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No. They’re just getting warmed up.”

“Man – what determination.” Mike sat back down, not quite believing that Micky would go on. He’s just not the type to stick with anything for very long; he gets too distracted and bored – he must be in love, Mike thought.

Back to the action below. Charlie was still basking in the afterglow, while Micky kissed her neck passionately. He let his free hand wander her body which she couldn’t get enough of, and guided him to just the right spots. After a full week of this, he knew exactly what was expected of him, so he surprised her by moving to her inner thighs without her help. He was so pleased with himself for making a move on his own, and that she was completely delighted with his decision to take some initiative. Though little could be seen from Mike and Davy’s perspective, they could definitely detect a hand-crotch manipulation happening; and since Charlie once again seemed to be in the throws of ecstasy, they guessed the rest. They were already loosing count of how many times she came, but for the record – they just counted another. And she wasn’t done. She pulled Micky’s head down to kiss him. That was his cue, and he’d better be ready. He pushed her leg apart with his knee, as she pulled his body down on top of her.

“I can’t believe he’s ready for more.” Mike said.

“I think I would ‘ave given up by now.” Davy answered.

“I would have stopped a half hour ago.”

“Really?”

“Well…you know…it depends.”

“On what?”

“How tired I am.”

“Oh…that’s true.”

However, it was a boost to both their egos to see that now that Micky was having to do all the work, he was clearly straining with fatigue. But he gave it his all, lest he disappoint his fair nymph. He let her set the pace, as always, and she wasn’t into the slow, gentle rhythm today. No, today she wanted it hard and fast, which meant more work for him. He tried his best to deliver, keeping that self-control she had learned to expect from him, and taking it for granted. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back trying to get him as deep as possible, until she went limp, saving herself for the next round. Micky stayed perfectly still till she was ready, because if he moved, he knew it would be all over. He decided he would try for one more, but wasn’t certain if he keep himself in control. She started moving under him again; that meant she was ready for more, and he gave it to her with everything he had left. Unfortunately, he could tell that his evening of lovemaking was coming to an end. He held himself to the last possible moment, which was fortuitously in time with Charlie, and they each had their final orgasm together. He really hoped she was done for the night. He couldn’t do this everyday without it taking its toll.

Mike and Davy were in awe. They never knew Micky had so much stamina and self-control. Not just in sex, but in anything. Mike had a whole new respect for Micky, and Davy had a whole new perspective on the art of lovemaking.

“It’s amazing what you can find out about a person when you watch them fuck,” Mike said. “I’ve shared a room with him for almost three years, and I learned more about him tonight than in all that time.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda' scary.”

“Whadaya mean?” They looked at each other, wondering what secrets they held from one another.

“Nothin’.”

They stayed upstairs waiting for the spent couple to dress and leave. They also prayed no one turned on a light, so they moved back from the rail to hide behind the clutter – just in case. But Micky and Charlie remained lying on the couch. In fact, they looked like they were asleep.

“Oh great. They fell asleep.” Davy whispered.

“Micky’s not asleep.” Mike reassured him.

“How can you tell? He looks asleep to me.”

“Micky snores in his sleep.”

“Does he?”

“And besides, he’s too afraid of getting caught to fall asleep. He’s just bein' polite.”

“Ahh – good point.”

“I guess we sit here and wait it out – where’s the snack bowl?”

However, it wasn’t a very long wait. After about fifteen minutes, Micky made the suggestion that it was time to split before Mike or Davy got home. Charlie just shifted in place and let Micky climb over her to look for his clothes, which she had thrown all over the place in a mad attempt to rip them from his body. He found his pants, but he needed light to find the rest – and on went that dreaded lamp. They had all been in the dark so long that they may as well have been looking directly into the sun. Charlie complained immediately, and Mike and Davy cowered from the incriminating source as if they were about to be found out. Meanwhile, Micky was busy getting himself dressed and gathering together Charlie’s clothes, but she didn’t look interested in leaving the couch. This became another part of their routine: he had to put her clothes on while she sat there pleasantly dazed and half asleep. He got their coats and apologetically escorted Charlie to the front door to walk her home.

When they heard the door bolts lock in place, Mike and Davy decided the coast was clear, and they headed downstairs. They couldn’t help but detect that familiar sweet smell of sex lingering in the air – especially around the couch. They were both reluctant to sit on it after they had witnessed it being used as a sex prop.

Mike yawned. “Well…I’m goin’ to bed,” he said.

“Really? You can sleep after seein' that?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Don’t ya have anything to say about it?”

“Yeah, I feel real guilty doin’ that, and I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to face Micky tomorrow with a straight face. I can’t believe I let you talk me into that.”

“Awe c’mon Mike, you said yourself Micky would ‘ave done the same thing.”

“Yeah, but Micky would have turned it into a joke. We’re just bein' deceitful.”

“I’m sorry, Mike.”

“Its my own fault – I should know better. Night Davy.”

Mike went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him leaving Davy alone to ponder his own morals. He felt bad too, but that was the point – he wanted to *be* bad. It was dirty, depraved, and decadent – and he loved every minute of it. It was unfortunate that it had to involve a friend, but he took the opportunity when it arose. He was tired of being the "nice boy". He was ready to break out of the old mold. The routine of dating those mindless little girls, and the boredom of beach life never occurred to him before. There was a whole other world out there, and it didn’t always require "goodness". People are so much more open to new experiences here – and he wanted to share in that. His little voyeurism habit was only the beginning.