*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Also, if male bisexuality offends you, hit your backspace key now.
*****
Murphy Margot received the phone call from Glen, his step-father, a drunken, angry and sobbing phone call. Numbly he heard that his mother had been killed at work.
His mother and step-father moved from Bender, Louisiana to Glen's hometown in Wyoming, just when Murphy was starting college at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. But Glen was calling from Jackson, Mississippi.
"So, uh, what you want to do?" Glen asked and hiccoughed.
"Do? About what?" Murphy asked.
"I mean, shit, they wanting thirty thousand bury her here and..." Glen said.
"Send her here," Murphy said.
It was a simple service, one that Glen didn't even bother showing up for.
Then, a few weeks later, Murphy received a thick envelope from Wycobia Insurance. He understood a little bit of the legalese, understood that since it had been ruled accidental, a forklift operator had backed into some shelving units that had fallen on his mother, the insurance was paying double benefits.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
The small house that Murphy lived in had been a gift from his first lover, Ethan Mollenkay, a middle aged Polish man. Murphy rented out two bedrooms to fellow college students, two hundred and fifty dollars each; he supplied utilities; they had to supply their own food.
After meeting with Heidi Moek, after setting up various Certificates of Deposit and T-Bills and channeling the interest from these into his checking account, Murphy quit his job at Super One Foods grocery store.
The one thing that Murphy had forgotten about was his job helped fill the loneliness he felt.
Murphy had tried to establish connections with his peers. He'd gone on a date with a very cute African-American girl from his Sociology 105 class, a 'Jazz Picnic on the Grass' outside of the St. Elizabeth Public Library. He had let Ledawn Jones pick the function; she claimed to love jazz.
What Ledawn loved doing was pretending she knew anything about jazz. But when Murphy asked her thoughts on Joe Pass, or Wes Montgomery, or Charles Mingus, she stared at him blankly.
He'd enjoyed the music; he'd enjoyed the lunch, even though he did think thirty dollars for two sandwiches, two bags of chips, two fruit cups and two bottles of water to be a bit steep.
But Ledawn had seen some friends of hers and spent most of her time talking (quite loudly, to the annoyance of the musicians and the others in attendance) and ignoring Murphy.
She'd been genuinely surprised and less than pleased when Murphy did not ask for a second date.
He'd met Greg Bentley on-line. Greg claimed to be a straight acting, straight looking bisexual male. His photograph in his profile did look nice.
But when Murphy met Greg at Chuck for a few burgers, Murphy had been quite turned off by the eighteen year old's very feminine mannerisms and speech.
So Murphy did not venture out much.
"Could always take a few extra hours," Cherry, the red headed girl he rented a room to suggested.
"Or, there's those non-credit classes," Troy, the other student he rented a room to suggested. "You know? Not worth anything, but they're fun. I took guitar there two semesters ago; learned 'Stairway to Heaven' you know?"
"Oh, yeah!" Cherry enthused. "Friend of mine took Italian cooking. Still can't cook for shit, but so what?"
So Murphy looked at the non-credit classes. He clicked and submitted an application and within thirty minutes had a confirmation that he was enrolled to take 'Massage Therapy.'
"Ooh, I'll let you practice on me," Cherry said, thrusting out her thirty six Double D breasts, smiling flirtatiously at Murphy.
"And me," Troy agreed, nibbling on a microwave pizza.
Chinese cooking was also fun, and even though it wasn't in the rental agreement, Murphy took to preparing at least two meals a week for his tenants.
His massage instructor, a heavy-set woman in her late sixties complimented Murphy often.
"Honey, you really are a natural at this," she said. "You even remember all the muscle groups."
Through her, Murphy bought a portable massage table, as well as several essential oils.
"Remember, you can practice on me," Cherry said as Murphy familiarized himself on how to set up and break down the table.
"Okay, hop on," Murphy agreed as he stood in his bedroom, locking the wheels down.
"How you want me?" Cherry asked.
"We'll start on your shoulders, so face down," Murphy said, adjusting the headrest.
"No, no, I mean, you want me naked or..." Cherry asked.
"Whatever's most comfortable for you," Murphy agreed.
With a little smirk, Cherry dropped tee shirt, shorts, bra and panties to the floor and lay down on the table.
Cherry was a slut. The twenty two year old woman had fucked every male in her Kimble, Louisiana trailer park by the time she was nineteen years old, including her two brothers and her step-father and her two step-brothers.
She was both surprised and elated when she'd been accepted at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. Moreover, her scholarship also provided some living expenses; that was how Cherry could afford to rent the room from Murphy.
Cherry was also surprised, and elated to find out she did not have to fuck every man that said 'hi' to her. She still liked sex, but liked knowing she had a choice even more.
Murphy felt a stirring in his jeans as he looked at her nicely rounded buttocks. This surprised him; he'd thought of himself as gay, after Ethan had seduced him and after his miserable experience with Ledawn.
Murphy covered Cherry's lower extremities with a towel, and moved her long red hair out of the way.
"You've really got a beautiful back, you know that?" he said, admiring the smooth skin and well-defined muscles.
"Really? All most guys ever look at are the tits," Cherry said.
"They're nice too," Murphy admitted and she smiled at him.
Within moments, though, all flirtations were forgotten as Cherry melted under Murphy's hands. When he pulled the towel up to expose her legs, she groaned in disappointment, wanting more of his touches to her shoulders and spine.
Then he started on her feet and she forgot her disappointment.
Murphy kept peering between her legs, under the blanket, at her thicket of carrot orange hair and the light pink lips that peeked out. The lips looked moist, slightly opened.
His jeans were now very snug, almost painful as his erection was trapped.
"Missed my butt," Cherry said when Murphy finished with her legs and asked her to roll over.
He then flipped the towel up and worked on her magnificent buttocks. He felt pained as he watched her light brown anus open and wink as he stretched and pressed her buttocks.
