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A young slut takes her first step into a different life.

"Amazing what a difference a little seasoning makes."

Jon shot a glance at Boyd, who was beginning to do a slow burn. Matt laughed at his buddy. "Gotcha."

Boyd looked at Jon and shrugged in mock despair. "I try and look out for him, and this is the thanks I get."

"You do a great job, Boyd," Jon said. Matt took Boyd's arm.

"You know I'm just giving you a hard time." He looked across the table at Jon. "This has been the best week, thanks to you guys."

They became somber at the thought that it was almost over. Jon would be flying back to Texas tomorrow. He raised his glass.

"Well, it's not over yet. I'm going to have another drink. Anyone want to join me?"

Later that evening Jon waited with Matt in his wheelchair at the front door for Boyd, who was putting the car in the garage. The door opened and they met just inside.

Momentary silence fell. Then Boyd said, "Well, I ought to get going."

"I know it's real late, but can you help me get ready for bed?"

"Sure," Boyd said. Jon felt a pang of hurt that Matt had not asked him. As if in response, Matt turned to him at that moment. "You can come up too, if you want."

They got Matt up to his bedroom. Boyd helped him remove his shirt and undershirt. By now Jon felt no shock at seeing his friend's wasted body, only tender protectiveness.

Boyd took Matt's arm and lowered him to the edge of his bed. "Jon, can you get his shoes?"

He bent down at Matt's feet to help as requested. The bed moved. Jon saw that Boyd had sat next to Matt, a plastic tube in one hand.

"I'm going to rub you with this. Your skin's not looking so good."

Matt looked down at Jon and winked, despite his fatigue. "Mm, goody."

Boyd squeezed some lotion into his hand and began to apply it to Matt's shoulders and back, massaging it in. Jon sat on the floor, feeling as if he were intruding, yet unable not to watch. Neither of the others seemed to mind. Matt's eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open in peaceful enjoyment. After a while Boyd raised one leg and threw it across the bed behind Matt, moving until he was cradling Matt's body in front of him, their heads almost touching. He took another handful of lotion and began to massage Matt's chest and stomach. Matt's breathing deepened and his head fell back against Boyd's shoulder. His buddy kissed him on the cheek as his hands caressed his nipples, then traveled lower. They began to unbuckle Matt's belt. Jon rose.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked.

"I'll leave you two alone." The thought of Matt and Boyd together put him in a turmoil of desire and jealousy. He didn't know if he could stay in the house while they made love in the next room.

Matt's eyes were steady. "Don't go, Jon."

To his amazement Boyd nodded agreement. "Stay."

At a loss, he smiled and stammered, "I'm... well, I'm not really into watching."

Boyd gave him the level stare that had become familiar. There was no hostility in it now, only a message whose strength and clarity took his breath away. "Who said anything about watching?"

He extended his hand. When Jon got near enough it found the swelling bulge between his legs and rubbed it.

"The first time I saw you in the airport I liked your body," Boyd said. "When I caught you in the shower with Matt I saw you had a cock to match."

His other hand tugged at Jon's wrist. Moving as if in a dream, Jon bent. Their mouths met in a slow kiss, tongues tangling. He felt Matt's breath in his left ear, heard his whisper.

"Make love to me, Jon. Make love to us."

It was a dying man's wish. He obeyed.

NINE: SATURDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon awoke the next morning alone, in the guest room where he had been staying. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the second-story window, reflecting off the walls. A sour taste was in his mouth. He threw back the covers. Sweat and dried substances clung to the skin and hair on his body.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning Jon had awakened on Matt's bed, Boyd's body next to his, one arm flung across his chest.

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