This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy.
Copyright Brooding Muscle and Boy Mercury X 2017.
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Lyrics to Closer (1994) and Discipline (2008) by Trent Reznor.
Lyrics to Dim All the Lights (1979) by Donna Summer.
A SCAR NOBLY GOT (a sequel to SILVERBACKS), part 2 by Broodingmuscle & Boy Mercury X
I feel Evan's large hand on my back and his thick middle finger slides down my crack and right into my loosened hole. His brings his face forward into the light and I see he's clean shaven with a faded flattop military haircut. Between the anal stimulation, the excitement of seeing Evan again, and his hyper-masculine military look I'm almost ready to pop for the third time in six hours.
"I live here Zach, what are you doing here?" He pushes in a second finger and I moan involuntarily.
"I had -- a sleepover. With uh... with uh..."
Come on brain.
Evan picks up on my predicament and a wide smile spreads across his rugged dark features.
"Let me help you out... Six one? Skinny beanpole douchebag?"
"...B-B-Brian," I stammer. What the fuck is happening to me? Evan crosses and uncrosses his fingers inside me and the stretch makes me take a sudden breath.
"A sleepover, huh? Cute, sounds very middle school. How many times did you cum?"
"What?" I pant, "Twice. Within two hours."
"How?"
"He fucked the shit out of me, that's how." I push my ass back on Evan's digits because it just feels so good...
Evan scoffs: "Amateur. Bet I can make you come three times in 15 minutes without even fucking you."
I laugh at his cockiness, "Yeah right."
"Set your timer, then."
I roll my eyes at his bravado but I am intrigued and excited too. I set the timer on my phone. Though I am thoroughly enjoying Evan's fingers, my cock rock hard and throbbing, I sarcastically dismiss his goal.
"Best of luck, Evan with the impossi--BULLLLLLLL!!!!!"
Evan withdraws his two fingers from my hole and inserts his right thumb, his left hand gripping my left shoulder. As if I weighed 12.5 lbs rather than 125 lbs, Evan rotates my whole body forty-five degrees and holds me horizontally over the bathroom sink, my throbbing dick facing the mirror. Evan closes his right hand sharply, his fingers envelops my ballsack as his thumb inside my rectum crushes my prostate.
"Gaaaaah!"
Cum shoots out of my rigid dick and splatters the bathroom mirror and I go limp. I'm dazed and breathing heavily as Evan flips me around and sits me up on the sink ledge.
"Time?" he asks.
My noodle-like wrist tilts my phone to show him the screen: 14 minutes 31 seconds. He just pushed the first load out of me in 29 seconds like he was squeezing a tube of toothpaste.
Evan, uncharacteristically, is wearing a very baggy white t-shirt that hides his body completely except for his club-like forearms. He places those forearms on either side of me and stares wordlessly, penetrating me, eyefucking me. He does this for about 2 minutes and I feel like I've been hollowed out inside, like if he looked away I'd die.
He opens his mouth wide and some irrational dark corner of my mind fears he'll swallow my whole head, but instead he licks the right side my face with his broad raspy tongue. Then he turns my head with his huge hands, a rich dark brown with reddish palms, and licks the left side. I'm floored and gape at him with lust as his saliva cools on my face. My cock is still MIA but it hardly seems to matter, as my whole body, my whole being, feels erect.
Evan turns my head again and looks at my temple.
"Left a scar," he says, and I can't read his expression.
"It's okay, I look like a tough guy now, right?" I say, probably too earnestly for a tough guy.
Evan smiles broadly and the world stands still. Fuck. "Totally tough, Fight Club." He mock-cowers. "Don't hurt me."
My laugh turns to a sigh as Evan, with his thick strong lips starts to nibble on my face, my scar first, then an eyebrow, my cheek, my chin. Finally his tongue dives into my mouth with such force it feels like a sword cleaving my skull in two.
Evan makes out with me aggressively and his passion is contagious. I reach up and grab his head in my smaller hands and feel the velvety smoothness of his clean shaven face. I push back into his face with my lips and tongue and Evan groans. He pulls our faces apart and stares at me.
"It's not fair," he says.
I don't understand what he means, but before I can ask, Evan shucks off his white T-shirt.
I take a sharp breath. My God, is he even more muscular? I didn't think it was possible for Evan's five foot eleven frame to pack on more muscle than he displayed proudly at Kelsey's August end of year party. But I'm not imagining it. Released from the confines of the shirt, his hard, tank like physique, shining like burnished mahogany, seems to fill the small room.
"Holy fuck, Evan," I blurt, astonished.
He smiles. "Basic training been good to me," he says, flexing a crab pose that explodes his thick chest into ridges, ripples and furrows. I feel lightheaded and have to grip the ledge of the sink to stay upright. My cock, however is once again ramrod straight.
"I'll say," I say with wonder and lust, "I thought you got in trouble or something."
Evan switches to a biceps and abs pose, putting his right arm behind his head, exposing the black curly bush in his armpit.
"Enough chitchat, gotta keep this train running on time."
Evan grabs the back of my head and I am pushed into the dark folds of his armpit. I inhale his scent and nearly pop my next load as it hits my brain like a car crash. Hell. If Brian's manscent is like pine needles, like a romantic walk in the forest, Evan's is earthier, like peat moss, like being pushed face first into the ground during a backwoods fuck.
"Lick," Evan commands, and I don't need to be told twice. I start lapping at his pit like a thirsty dog. Evan lets me keep at it for a bit and then guides my mouth over to his muscular chest. I latch onto his dark erect nipple and bite down, teething his silver nipple ring, hungry for him.
"Nasty," hisses Evan, "I like it."
He continues to guide my mouth down his body, I run my tongue in the deep trenches between his carved abs. Finally I'm on my knees before his heroic physique. Thinking again of my classical Greek sculpture, if Brian is Apollo with his perfect proportions, Evan is Herakles, pure power incarnate. Evan's huge erection is tenting his shorts and I have to have it. I pull down his black underwear and it is released, a towering column reaching up past his navel. I am briefly puzzled to see his cockhead covered in a sleeve of dark skin. Then I get it.
Jesus fuck, I think, how many new experiences can a gay kid like me have in a single day. My first uncut dick.
I reach up to feel the silky smoothness of his cock. I pull down on his shaft and the skin slides easily, his purple head is released. The smell hits me as Evan holds my face in his huge hands. He sees my widening expression and chuckles.
"Easy now, Fight Club, uncut cock can be an acquired taste."
I bat his hands away.
"So let me acquire it already," I insist, my cock fit to burst.
I glom my mouth onto that purple helmet and suckle and lick.
A second later my body is wracked with another hands free orgasm. My fingers dig into the broad mass of Evan's glutes as I convulse, spewing a spurt of cum that does not do justice to the explosions happening in my pelvis.
I sit back on my haunches and look up at Evan's amused expression. I smile myself and giggle. Why does Evan always make me giggle?
"Hell, Zach. Time?"
I take my phone and look at the screen: 8 minutes 10 seconds. I show it to him.
"Great. Time for more kissing, I love kissing you." Evan fucking Hayes loves kissing me.
Since I have the phone in my hand, I open the camera app and Evan's massive organ is far too huge to fit the frame. Evan shakes his head and pulls me to my feet.
"Uh-uh, baby, we're keeping it real here. No pics."
I pout, but set the phone down again. Evan leans in to kiss me, softly this time, on the lips. We make out for a minute or two while I run my hands up and down Evan's magnificent torso. Then his strong hands guide me back to my knees. I suck and lick at his massive erection, trying my best to take it into my mouth. Like Brian's equally gargantuan cock, there's no way I can deep throat him the way I have other lesser men, but I'm damn well going to give it my all. I gag and cough and Evan pulls it out and pulls up, teabagging me with balls the size of lemons. I take a moment to be awestruck at how his huge ballsack covers most of my face before I start lapping and kissing those huge nuts. Evan moans with excitement and copius pre-cum starts to run down his shaft, I leave his balls to run my tongue up the underside of his brown shaft and catch the tasty nectar.
Evan pulls me up again and takes my cock in hand, now rigid again and ruddy, engorged with blood. He leans in and whispers in my left ear: "Such a pretty cock and such a pretty boy." Were I not in a state of near-ecstasy at Evan's touch I might object to the word "boy" but looking down at how Evan's prodigious column of fuckflesh dwarfs my own very respectable dick... well...
"Evan? What are you doing home?" I hear Brian's voice ask from behind his brother's broad back. Evan twists around and Brian gets a full view of his twin brother jacking my dick. Coffee spills and the cups bounce on the carpeted floor as Brian's eyes go wide and I freeze in a panic. But Evan replies to his brother calmly.
"Just showing Zach what he's been missing bro. You got a problem with that?"
The next sequence of events happens so quickly that it's almost a blur. Brian barrels toward Evan in a rage, while Evan turns around completely to meet his charge. Brian swings his right fist but Evan traps his arm in some kind of self-defense move, immobilizing it. Brian's momentum forces Evan's body back against me and I gasp as my cock is forced into Evan's deep asscrack.
Holy shit, I think, am I...?
Evan looks back over his shoulder. He twists Brian's arm painfully and his brother's fist unclenches, his fingers shaking. The Silverbacks ring glints in the light.
"Hey, babe, you want to relieve my bro of this ugly ass ring before he hurts his dainty fingers?"
Brian looks pained as I slip the ring off his finger, my hands trembling. What kind of a mess have I gotten myself into?
My cock is practically vibrating as Evan uses the tremendous power of his glutes and thighs to keep his and Brian's weight from crushing my pelvis against the marble sink. The pressure on my dick is too much and I gasp as I spew a third small load. It pools briefly at the indentation of Evan's tailbone, and then disappears into his crack.
Evan releases Brian's arm, places his palms on Brian's pecs and shoves. Two things happen: Brian flies backwards, crashing through the spindled bannister separating the landing from the staircase, and falls from view. And Evan's thrust forces his pelvis back on mine.
I gasp as my still rigid cock buries itself in his hole.
"Whoa," says a startled Evan.
"Oh God!" I cry as my body finishes off my orgasm. I collapse into the wall of muscle that is Evan's back, holding him tightly while the spasms subside.
Evan steps forward and turns around to face me. His face is perplexed but not upset. Finally he grins.
"Well, I always wanted my first time to be special. This is certainly fucking special."
Evan picks me up in an embrace, crushing my body into his and locking his lips on mine in a kiss that absolutely blows my mind.
He releases me and I grasp the edge of the sink to keep myself from falling to the floor in exhaustion. Evan turns and walks toward the gap in the landing railing. He turns back to me sharply, salutes, and then jumps off the landing like a paratrooper.
I push myself up off the sink and Brian's ring slips from my grip. With a "plop" it plunges into the toilet bowl.
Fuck.
The timer on my phone beeps, and I tap it off. I look at the bathroom window. I briefly contemplate making an exit that way, before making my way to the busted up staircase. With a deep breath, I descend the stairs, following the sounds of the Hayes brothers destroying their second house, fighting over me.
I pick my way down the stairs, trying not to trip on the splintered spindles that dropped from the second floor bannister. I turn the corner right into the dining room, and it's a mess already. Several chairs are turned over, a vase of flowers is smashed, and bits of broken china litter the floor. A look past this into the living room just in time to see Evan suplex Brian through the sliding glass door onto the backyard patio. I see them roll over the shattered glass, punching at each other until they both tumble down the patio stairs and are lost from my view.
Jesus! What the hell am I doing with either of these crazy motherfuckers? As I stand there wondering what the hell to do, I hear muffled music coming from the kitchen. I tiptoe forward trying to avoid cutting my bare feet on the broken china. What happened to my shoes?
The kitchen is modern and gorgeous, sleek grey slate countertops and black appliances. I hear now that the muffled music is coming from the back, from a door that looks like it goes to the basement. I crack the door slightly and realize the door must be soundproof because a grungy slow-tempo beat-heavy song blasts through. I quickly duck in and close the door. Whoever's down here won't be hearing the noise from the fight, that's for sure. I creep down the stair quietly and, as I do, I have a sense memory of being in my best friend Kelsey's basement rec room trying to watch RuPaul's Drag Race while her younger brother Todd was showing off his new free weights. The unmistakable clank of metal and the smell of sweat and testosterone: This is a basement gym.
I listen to the song being played and fuck if the lyrics themselves don't make me horny as hell:
You let me violate you, You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, You let me complicate you
As my cock stiffens I strain to see where the metal clanking is coming from. I can see a barbell rising and falling, but I can't see who's on the bench without going further down the stairs. Rather than Todd's jerky movements, the mystery bench presser's movements are smooth. In fact, I think he's moving the bar up to a two-count of the song, and down to a two count.
Help me I broke apart my insides, Help me I've got no soul to sell Help me the only thing that works for me, Help me get away from myself
I look at the plates on the bar, four plates on each side. Are those the big plates? I can't really see. That can't be, I remember Todd was so proud when he was able to lift just one big plate for just one time. This man has been pumping this weight non-stop for the past three minutes without any rest. I gasp slightly as I hear the next lyrics of this boner-inducing song.
I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God
I hear a CRASH above me from the kitchen and I figure I better get back up there. As I emerge back into the kitchen, I find the Battle of the Hayes Boys continues. They've gone back to throwing punches and I see that whereas in the August fight Brian was the slightly better fighter, Evan has caught up, no doubt from some combat training at West Point. I can better see now that they have different fighting styles. The more compact and deliberate Evan moves in close, explodes straight punches out from his powerful body, and calmly blocks blows with his thick muscular forearms. Brian powers his fists with anger and takes advantage of the yoke of his arms, neck and shoulders to get devastating momentum from swinging left and right hooks. His punches are easier for Evan to see coming and dodge, but when they hit it's like a bomb landing.
I gasp when a right hook from a raging Brian misses but his big fist hits the archway leading to the dining room. Plaster explodes and a splintered two by four erupts from the wall. Even Evan is startled by this and is momentarily distracted. It's enough for Brian to get close and grip his brother's neck in two huge hands pushing him into the kitchen counter. Evan inhales plaster dust and coughs, gagging while Brian, lost in his fury, squeezes. Brian has that mad dog look in his eyes that I remember from the last fight when I thought he was close to killing his brother, and I am about to yell again when I am beat to it by Mrs. Hayes who appears out of nowhere.
"BRIAN!" she growls sharply, a tiny woman with a voice that belies her size.
Like in those movies where a code word stops a killer robot, Brian instantly releases Evan, and steps back, looking at his furious mother with an expression I can only describe as fright.
Mrs. Hayes is stunningly beautiful even in her late forties, like a Hollywood movie star. A long mane of golden hair cascades past her neck onto her shoulders and her silk houserobe cinched at the waist emphasizes a robust feminine figure.
As Brian looks bewildered coming out of his fight haze, Evan recovers and decides to take advantage by grabbing the closest object handy, which happens to be tonight's Thanksgiving turkey sitting out on the counter. Hefting the huge bird up, Evan is about to clock Brian in the skull with it when from behind me a deep voice shouts angrily.
"EVAN!"
Evan drops the turkey instantly and the pale plucked carcass falls to the tiled kitchen floor, muddied by the dirt the boys have tracked in from the backyard. He backpedals, and his eyes dart, frightened, to an escape route, the shattered sliding glass door, before turning back to stare over my shoulder to the source of the angry voice.
I turn around slowly. My father was a bookish nerd who avoided conflict and left my mother when I was young, so being confronted by an angry dad is not something I have much experience with. Nevertheless I couldn't possibly feel more childlike standing in front of the hulking Dr. Hayes. I face a wall of sweat slicked muscle: Giant pecs so broad they're wider than my shoulders, with a deep crevasse. An abdomen thick and strong, not as ripped as Evan's but with some visible ridges. Shoulders the size of bowling balls. Arms so knotted with shiny muscle they look like someone stuffed oranges in a brown velvet bag.
Dr. Hayes bearded face looks down at me over that huge chest. "You look happy to see me..."
I flush red as I realize my rock hard boner is sticking right up through the fly in the centre of my baggy boxers.
Dr. Hayes leans down to get in my face and I nearly shit myself. "You shouldn't be. Who the hell are you?"
"I-I-I'm Zach. H-H-Happy Thanksgiving, sir," I burble. My hands dropping to cover myself.
I am pulled back and Evan nervously puts himself between me and his father. "Dad, this is Zach from the neighborhood, we went to the same schools since kindergarten. You don't remember him?"
"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't. What is he doing here and what does he have to do with you two fighting again?" Dr. Hayes fumes, "Hell, Evan you just got back 8 hours ago, all that work by us and Matt Samuels to get you here, and already you're starting something?"
Evan looks wounded. "No, Dad I'm glad I'm back and I appreciate what y'all did to get me here. It's just, Zach is..." he pauses haltingly and looks at Brian, "uh..."
Brian speaks up, nervously licking his lips: "Look, Mom... Dad... it's just that... Zach is..."
I decide I need to take charge. I push myself in front of Evan.
"Zach is gay. I mean... I'm gay," I say. Smooth.
Everyone goes silent and all four Hayes look at me dumbfounded. Dr. Hayes thinks for a few seconds and his expression changes from anger to confusion to concern. "Wait, Zach, you're gay?"
"Yeah," I continue, "and, uh, Brian and Evan were, uh... I came out to them at the end of high school, and they really helped me and were nice about it."
Mrs. Hayes looks from Brian to Evan and then back to me. She looks puzzled. Dr. Hayes' demeanor has changed completely from angry Dad to concerned doctor. He leans down, grips my shoulders gently and looks at me like he's studying my face. "Zach, is that why you're here? Did your parents kick you out of the house?"
"What?" I say, "No, uh that's not it, I..." I'm at a loss for words because I wasn't expecting that to be where his mind went. I look into his eyes and the warmth and care that I see there makes me tear up a little. My own Dad shrugged and went back to his book after I told him.
Dr. Hayes thumbs my tear away and then reaches around with his huge arms and envelops me in a hug. His deep calm voice somehow reaches into me and melts away the anxiety I was feeling. "Zach, I want you to know, that it is completely okay to be gay, it is normal and healthy. You are a good person and do not let anyone tell you any different." I try to hug him back but he's so wide and muscular I'm basically just feeling up his lats. I'm embarrassed as my hard on rises once again.
Dr. Hayes breaks the hug and sees. I'm mortified when he points at it. "And that is normal and healthy too, take it from me, I'm literally an expert on the penis."
"Dad!" both Evan and Brian groan. I look at them and see both of them are slightly teary-eyed. I wonder if they've ever heard their father talk that way before about gays.
Dr. Hayes looks up at them.
"Wait," he says. He steps forward further into the kitchen and sees the damage to the rest of the house, "so why the hell...." All of us can see Angry Dad gradually making a comeback in his expression. Both Evan and Brian point at each other.
"It's his fault, he..." they say in unison and then falter.
Mrs. Hayes speaks up, exasperated, "Oh for goodness sake, do we have to keep dancing around this for another 18 years. Edward, our boys are gay."
Evan pipes up: "No Mom, I'm bisex--" but he stops when his Dad catches his eye.
"So this, all this, you're fighting over a boy? Over him?" he points at me and suddenly I feel his goodwill toward me evaporating.
Dr. Hayes steps forward and entraps both his sons in a double headlock, hard biceps grinding into their necks. He looks over at me and Mrs. Hayes. "You deal with our unexpected guest, Abigail. I'll deal with these two." He kicks open the basement door and drags the struggling Evan and Brian down the stairs. I hear the grungy sex-song's refrain briefly before the door slams shut:
My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God
I look over at Mrs. Hayes whose face has softened. She looks me over. "Dear Zach, it really has been ages. I see you've... grown." Oh God, why won't this boner go down?
She leans over to pick the muddy turkey off the floor and pronounces in her warm Southern accent. "Well, this certainly won't do with a Senator coming for dinner, honey. I'll have to work a few connections to find a spare organic free range turkey on Thanksgiving Day." She winks at me. "Go get your things, sugar, and meet me in the driveway."
Relieved to be dismissed, I head back toward the staircase, pausing briefly at the basement door, but I can't hear a thing. I go upstairs to Brian's room and get dressed. As I leave his room, I look over to see the door to what must be Evan's room wide open, the morning sun filling it and spilling out into the hall. Curious, I poke my head in. Evan has strewn a few clothes about, but clearly he hasn't been home long enough to make much of a mess. I see his cadet uniform laid out neatly over a chair and suddenly I desperately want to see Evan's body stretching the fabric.
I look over on his dresser and see a leather tray that is strewn with various pieces of masculine jewelry and accessories: neck chains, some thick and some thin, wristlets, a number of rings. Discarded in the midst of this jumble I see a familiar sight, the twin to the biggest, ugliest ring I've ever seen. It is the state high school football championship ring, identical to Brian's which I managed to knock into the toilet only twenty minutes ago. I only hesitate a moment before picking it up and pocketing it.
In the car, I look over at Mrs. Hayes and I'm a little stunned. "You're really beautiful," I blurt, in awe. "Oh God, did I say that out loud?"
"Oh honey," she says, all Atlanta sweetness and warmth. "God bless you but get your eyes checked!"
As we drive, Mrs Hayes keeps looking over at me. Finally she speaks: "You know we're used to the boys fighting, they put the rough in rough in tumble, let me tell you, and they always have. But of all the reasons they fought, they never fought over a girl," she laughs, "unlike their father. He knocked more than one of my suitors on his butt. Of course he stopped throwing punches when he became a surgeon." I look confused. "The hands, honey." Oh right.
"I do like you, Zach, I wish the boys had had more friends like you in high school. And I don't mind the gay thing, oh honey all through school my best friends were gay. So of course I'm thrilled for you to be with one of my boys. But I guess my question is, which one do you want to be with?"
I feel the big ugly ring in my pocket and turn it over, pushing my thumb through the hole. Brian or Evan. Suddenly I burst out crying, the tension of the last few hours finally getting to me. "I don't know," I sob, "I don't think I can choose."
She looks sympathetic as she pulls up to my driveway. I see my mother pull open the living room curtain. I know I'll have some explaining to do. "Well. You do a good think on it, and have a lovely Thanksgiving dinner with your Mom. If you want to, come round afterwards for a drink and to meet Senator Samuels. He was so sweet to help get Evan back from West Point for the day."
I dry my tears with my shirtsleeve and smile. "Thanks, that's so nice of you to offer that after all that just happened. I'd like that."
I get out of the car and wave at Mrs. Hayes as she goes off to work her charms on the neighborhood butcher. I turn to head into the house, thinking of excuses I can use to placate my own mother but also pondering Mrs. Hayes' question.
On the wrestling mat in the basement gym, Dr. Hayes cinches the headlocks on Evan and Brian tighter, pulling them into his broad muscular chest. "So here we are again, boys, you just can't stop fucking up, can you. First we get you," squeezing the arm with Evan's head, a rock of a biceps constricting his throat, "screwing up at the premier military academy in the country, then we get you," pulsing his other bicep into Brian's neck, "starting a fight inside the house over a skinny white boy."
Throwing both boys to the mat in disgust, he goes over to the sound system and selects a song on his Ipod, while both Evan and Brian try to recover their breath.
"Looks like it's time for a little Discipline."
An electric guitar and uptempo beats start up and Dr. Hayes grins, tapping his foot.
Am I Am I still tough enough? Feels like I'm wearing down (down down down down) Is my viciousness losing ground
Evan coughs, and puts on a brave face: "Seems as y'all like skinny white boy music, we have that in common, Pops."
Dr. Hayes face hardens and Evans brave face falters and he looks a little sick. "Just for that, you're first, sucker."
He lunges at his shorter son and Evan tries to tie up his father's arm but he's too quick and in a flash his Dad has hauled him up and off his feet in a crushing bearhug. Evan cries out in pain and Brian shouts at his Dad, "Pops it's okay, we were dealing with it, you don't need to get involved!"
Dr. Hayes sneers, and takes steps toward his taller son, still dominating Evan with his powerful arms: "That's what you call dealing with it, trashing our house just before we have a fucking Senator over for Thanksgiving. This is dealing with it, son."
Evan raises a fist and coils it back, but Dr. Hayes stares him down. "If you strike the king," he says, "you'd best kill the king." Evan loses his nerve and drops his fist, pushing instead on those densely muscled arms.
Dr. Hayes falls to the mats, kicking out his legs to entrap Brian with a scissors hold. Now the three men roll on the mats, both sons being crushed by Dad and wheezing for breath. Evan and Brian pass a look between them, and Brian mouths 1,2,3. Suddenly Evan headbutts his Dad sharply while Brian reaches up and slaps a ball claw on his Dad's huge bulge.
"Argh!" cries Dad and he releases his sons instantly, one hand going to his face and one to his crotch.
Brian and Evan trade another look and then each is at their Dad's side as he crouches forward in pain. With another 1,2,3, the boys heave the father's legs straight up in the air, holding the huge man vertically upside down for a split second before slamming him to the ground in a piledriver.
The song continues to play:
Am I taking too much? Did I cross the line? (line line) I need my role in this Very clearly defined
Dr. Hayes is conscious but groaning, laid out on the mats and both boys climb on top to keep it that way.
Evan straddles his upper body, pulls down his shorts and rests his massive glutes on his father's face. "How does the king feel about ass?" he mocks, rocking back and forth.
"Seems he likes it just fine, bro." Brian says as he hooks his shorts down under his big balls and locks his hips over his Dad's pelvis, grinding hard cock to hard cock.
The brothers high five each other and catch their breath. "Hey Evan, maybe we should have come out sooner if this is how... supportive Dad really is of us gays."
"I keep telling you bro, I'm bisexual. I like tits on both sexes." Evan bends his head down to suckle and lick at his Dad's dark left nipple with his thick lips and tongue.
Brian groans: "Ah yeah, gimme some of that," and he leans down to nibble and bite at Dr. Hayes' right nip.
Up and down the skin (skin skin) I don't know where I end Or where you begin I need your discipline I need your help I need your discipline You know once I start I cannot help myself
Their father no longer struggles but gets into it, moaning erotically and slowly grinding his huge bulge against Brian's, and burying his long tongue in Evan's musky hole. He arches his back, and his nipples become diamond hard. His hands reach down and rip apart the fabric of his workout shorts, his colossal ebony cock now skin to skin with Brian's caramel log, both erections leaking pre-cum that mixes and pools on Dr. Hayes' abs.
The brothers both moan with lust and sit up, facing each other. As their father's attention puts them in a daze, they slyly smile at each other and let their eyes wander over each other's sweaty bodies. Their hands reach out to grope each other, Brian's thick fingers pull on Evan's nipple rings and he gasps, Evan in turn cups the dense flesh of Brian's pecs and massages the muscle. They lean forward, and in unison their hands reach up to caress the face of the other. They stare lustily at each other and open their mouths, leaning in for a ki--
"Augh!" I awaken with a start, throwing wide my bedspread to see I've cum all over the sheets. Jesus, I can't escape them even in sleep!
It was hard to explain to my mom that I was going back to the Hayes' house after Thanksgiving dinner.
"Since when do you do anything with those Hayes boys?" she asked.
"It's complicated Mom," I told her. "We just got to be friends at the end of summer."
"Is that how you got that scar? You look like Harry Potter."
"Like Fight Club, Mom, not Harry Potter."
"Well I didn't like that movie," she says, "there was too much... fighting in it."
After dinner, I put on the tightest pair of underwear I have, thinking I'm going to need some help if I want to keep my dick under control heading back into the sex-den that is the Hayes' house. Suitably strapped down, I get an Uber over to the Hayes home.
Brian answers the door wearing a smart blue dress shirt with an open collar. I smile, happy to see him though it's only been half a day apart.
"I see your Dad didn't break your neck. I was worried."
Brian bends slightly and brings his face down toward me, he looks serious and I think, no hope, he's going to kiss me, but instead he extends his head back and shrugs, causing the muscles in his neck to swell monstrously. The slim silver chain he wears goes from loose to a tight fit.
"What this neck?" he asks.
My cock goes hard instantly as I see that Brian probably has more muscle in his neck than I have in both arms.
I reach up and caress that long thick muscle that goes from his collarbone to the back of his ear. Brian purrs at my touch and I am relieved to see him smile. I pull his head down for a kiss but we are interrupted as Mrs. Hayes, dressed simply but elegantly in a white blouse and long black skirt, throws the door open and greets me warmly. She takes my hand in hers.
"Zach, honey, I'm so glad you came back. You're just in time for dessert. C'mon in, sugar," her tone turns stern as she looks at her son, "no dessert for you, Brian, you have work to do, scoot."
Brian steps out the front door and reluctantly breaks our gaze to head over in the direction of the Hayes' garage. Just before Mrs. Hayes pulls me inside, I see a truck pull up delivering plate glass, and Evan hops out of the passenger seat.
Inside the Hayes' house most of the mess has been tidied up and there is soft jazz music playing. Dishes from Thanksgiving dinner have been piled in the kitchen, while the broken archway that Brian cracked open with a waylaid punch has been neatened up a bit by having the broken plaster cleared away, exposing the wall's wooden skeleton.
In the living room, Dr. Hayes is seated chatting with a man in his late forties who I recognize as Georgia's junior senator, Matthew P. Samuels. The senator is a very handsome ex-Army officer, retired due to injuries suffered in Afghanistan. Both stand up as Mrs. Hayes and I approach and I see quickly that in person Senator Samuels is nearly as tall as the doctor and strongly built with broad shoulders straining at his suit jacket. He has a thick salt and pepper moustache that is sexy in a retro kind of way, like a porn star from the seventies.
I'm nervous approaching Dr. Hayes, wondering if he's still angry, but his warm, accepting expression is back and I relax a little as I remember how nice it felt to be wrapped in his hug. He reaches out his huge hand to swallow mine in a firm shake and smiles. "Well now Zach, I think you and I got off on the wrong foot earlier today, hope I didn't scare you." I look into his sparkling eyes and handsome bearded face and recall how my cock responded to seeing his gleaming, god-like physique in the kitchen this morning.
"No, not scare, exactly," I say, cryptically. Come on Zach, get it together.
He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a friendly squeeze, nodding to the senator. "Zach, this is Senator Matthew Samuels who was kind enough to put in a word at West Point to get our boy Evan back for Thanksgiving. Senator, this handsome young man has been causing a bit of a tizzy in our house lately. Turns out my boys like him very much. I'm still getting used to it, but I guess this is the way it's going to be."
The senator speaks and his Southern drawl is sexy as fuck. "Hell, Ed, no need to beat around the bush with me, I was the first Georgia senator to support gay marriage, you know. Wish we could've made it happen before the Supreme Court beat us to it, but oh well. And I don't blame your boys at all for getting all excited over this one. You certainly are a fine young man, lil' Zach." He places his large hand on my other shoulder and chuckles, his fingers massaging my neck briefly, "yes very fine indeed."
I should be creeped out, but as a kid starved for fatherly attention most of my life, I was not immune to the attention and physical contact from not one but two primo muscle daddies.
Dr. Hayes pushes a glass of liquor into my hand. "Now you come have a drink with us men." I take the glass of rich amber liquid over ice and sit down on the sofa. Dr. Hayes takes the armchair to the left of me and I expect the Senator to take the armchair opposite but instead he sits next to me on the sofa. I take a sip of the drink and cough. It's pure bourbon!
"Drink up kid, it'll put hair on your chest," Senator Samuels jokes, pulling open his own shirt collar to show a thick pelt of chest fur. Oh fuck, it's gonna take more that tight underwear to keep my cock down with all this going on. Jesus it's like I'm in a Tennessee Williams play.
Mrs. Hayes arrives carrying dishes of peach cobbler and as if reading my mind says, "Gosh is it hot in here?" It is unseasonably warm for late November. "I guess I could turn on the A/C once Evan gets that glass in." I look up to see Evan wearing overalls, with no shirt, his huge, bulging pectorals straining the straps as he maneuvers a large pane of glass into the sliding door, replacing the one he smashed when he threw his brother through it this morning.
Evan sees me and winks. As the glass snaps into the door, he shrugs the straps off the overalls while fitting the guards back in place. The pressure causes those big juicy pecs to press against the glass, mounding up like titties. I look over to see the Senator's tongue hanging out of his mouth, just like mine is.
Mrs. Hayes coughs and shoots a dirty look at Evan. "Peach cobbler, anybody? Best in Atlanta, for sure." She plops a bowl into my lap and I look up with thanks.
"My favourite, Mrs. Hayes," I say, relieved at the very least to have something to hide the bulge in my pants.
I taste the cobbler and it's utterly delicious. At school, my French-Canadian roommate Luc is an amazing cook and has been introducing me to really good food. It's been a fun exploration of the senses, and I've come to view food with almost as much passion as sex. This peach cobbler is like an orgasm in my mouth and I try to place the unusual spice Mrs. Hayes must have used. Cardamom?
I turn to look toward her as she heads back to the kitchen and I see that Brian has entered the kitchen with a wooden mallet, a drill and a two by four. He has taken off his blue shirt and wears just a white tank underneath. The tank stretches to contain the piled muscle of his golden torso. He uses the mallet to knock back into place the splintered two by four he broke with his fist, and then reinforces it with the new one, his forearms flexing as he uses the drill to screw the two boards together. He sees me staring and locks eyes with me, doing little hip thrusts each time he activates the drill. Rrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrr. I choke on my cobbler and then compound the problem when I try to wash it down with my drink, forgetting it's pure alcohol.
The Senator takes the dish of cobbler from my hands before it can fall and places his large strong hand on my back, rubbing it firmly and encouraging me to cough. As another fit overtakes me I grip his left thigh with me right hand for support. As I recover, eyes streaming and nose running, the Senator gallantly takes a handkerchief from his pocket and holds it to my nose. He leans in and whispers in a smooth honeyed voice.
"Blow, lil' Zach."
I snort into the silk and look up at Samuel's handsome face. His red lips separate as his mouth opens into a smile full of even white teeth and I spurt a little pre-cum into my shorts. I notice that the senator has a scar on his lip that the porn star moustache partially hides. I reach up with my left hand and feel my scar on my temple, and think about that Shakespeare quote. I wonder if his scar was `nobly got' too. Now confident that his flirtation isn't my imagination, with my right hand I rub his thigh a little, and with a slight gasp I realize that what I thought was an inner thigh muscle is actually the head of a thick cock running down the side of his leg three quarters of the way to his knee.
"Uhhh..." I say, withdrawing my hand suddenly. I look quickly over at Dr. Hayes but he has missed it as he has sprung from his chair to get in between Brian and Evan who have met up in the dining room and have started shoving each other like two bulls.
Dr. Hayes starts in with his domineering voice, "Boys..." But Evan, surprisingly, stands his ground and firmly interrupts:
"No. It's not fair. Brian had two chances with Zach at the end of August and yesterday. It would have been me taking him out if I hadn't been kept at West Point because of that racist bullshit."
The Hayes, including Brian, are shocked and everyone starts talking at once.
"What do you mean racist..." "Evan, honey, what actually happened..." "Bro, what the hell?"
Evan looks like he immediately regrets having spoken and for perhaps the first time I see him close to losing his cool.
"No forget it, that's not what's important," he points a thick finger at Brian, "this asshole is the problem, he always gets what he wants and I'm sick of it." He pushes at Brian and Dr. Hayes has to fight to keep them separated.
I stand up and yell, my voice hoarse from coughing, "No stop, both of you, stop hitting each other and destroying things because of me."
Senator Samuels comes up beside me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I see he has taken off his suit jacket.
"You know," he drawls, "There's an easy way to resolve these disputes like men, the Southern way." He flexes his right arm and I feel a little lightheaded as a big mound of muscle stretches the cotton sleeve of his blue dress shirt. "Armwrestling."
"HELL YEAH!" Evan hollers, smiling confidently. I think I see a moment of panic cross Brian's face, but it must be my imagination because he comes right back with his usual bravado.
"You wanna armwrestle this, bro?" he says, flexing a golden cannonball of a bicep, "Your funeral."
The Hayes seem relieved that another full out brawl might be avoided and everyone moves into the kitchen and both boys stand on either side of the kitchen island. Mrs Hayes puts a tea towel down on the grey slate. "No sense in bruised elbows," she says, sensibly. Senator Samuels looks the most excited of any of us and with both hands on my shoulders steers me right in the middle between Brian and Evan.
Brian puts his arm up and stares murder into his brother's eyes. "If I win, it's settled, you leave Zach alone." Evan puts his arm up and his eyes are just as forceful:
"And if I win, you leave him alone."
Brian shakes his head no.
"You get one date to make your case, and then Zach can decide if he wants to throw away all we've got," his eyes flicker briefly over to me, betraying his anxiety, before hardening again.
The assembled adults seem perturbed by the lopsided terms, but Evan nods curtly.
"No problem, bro, one date is all I'll need to make sure he forgets your fucking name."
Evan winks at me, and I flush remembering this morning, while Mrs. Hayes titters:
"Language, honey."
"Do I get any say in this?" I protest, trying to recover my dignity.
"You get to call Go, boy," Senator Samuels drawls.
Evan and Brian lock hands and I put my comparatively small hand on both of theirs. I try to catch their eyes, but they're both in the zone.
"3,2,1, Go!" I yell.
"Whoa!" I breathe and take a step back to take in the view. The Senator is still behind me and I hear him take in a sharp breath.
Brian pushes against his brother's arm fiercely, and his right arm flexes up into a golden bicep peak. As he continues to haul, a vein snakes its way to the surface of his arm, crawling up until it disappears under the front head of his massive three headed deltoid. I watch in awe as more veins crawl along his huge forearm where ropey muscles criss-cross and bulge, looking like steel bands.
At first it seems like the boys will stay at the neutral position forever, but then I see Brian flex his wrist and start to ever so slowly bring down his brother's somewhat shorter forearms. I look at Evan and he looks concerned and he sets his face in concentration, breaking his death stare with his brother to gaze down at his own massive bicep as if to will it to come to life. Brian lets out a curt laugh as he sees his bro's reaction; I look at his golden brow and see sweat slicking his forehead. As he pushes his bro past the half way mark he brags, slightly breathlessly:
"You're going down bro."
I look to see Evan's response and he's smiling at me like a goofball. "Somebody will be going down," he says. He then nods his head to his bicep and purses his lips. What?
"For good luck," he says, and I get that he wants me to kiss his arm. My cock throbs, but I can't bring myself to do it in front of his parents and a US Senator, so instead I kiss my hand and then place it on the shiny brown peak of his massive upper arm.
Instantly, Evan's arm locks and Brian's downward momentum is abruptly halted. My dick coughs a little pre-cum into my shorts as I feel Evan's arm solidify into something like titanium. I look up at Evan's face and I see his forehead is completely dry. His eyes leave mine to lock back onto his brother, who looks confused as he continues to press hard, with Evan's hand immobile and unyielding a bare inch above the grey slate of the counter top.
"See bro, this was a good suggestion by the Senator, but you know how I like to play fair. Starting here seems fairer to you. You wanna try again, Zach?"
I draw my arm, along Evan's extended bicep, looking like twisted steel, to the crook of the elbow joint, and trace the veins encrusting his thick brown forearm. Finally my small hand reaches their palms and fingers and I feel power colliding in those hands that cause my cock to thrum.
I look at Brian's eyes, full of confusion and worry, and then Evan's confident gaze, and I open my mouth tentatively.
"3, 2, 1, Go?"
Evan growls and slowly, smoothly, starts moving Brian's hand upward, back toward the neutral starting position. I let out a little moan as I watch Evan's bicep flex. His darker skin catches the light in such a way that I can see every fibre of the muscle as it goes from a twisted oblong shape to a huge round ball. No longer faking in the least, Evan's face is a mask of concentration and he begins to sweat profusely. The Senator, leans down and whispers in my ear.
"In Evan's position, it's all bicep, while Brian is pushing with his forearm, and his chest, and his shoulder. And he's still losing."
I absent-mindedly take the big football ring out of my pocket and fiddle with it nervously as I look over at Brian. The front part of Brian's massive right delt is striated with tension, his pec is flexed hard pushing out the fabric of his tank top, and a diagonal bulge has mounded up in the base of his forearm. Meanwhile, Evan has moved their arms back to the one quarter position and his bicep at maximum flex is clearly half again as big as his brother's.
When Evan pulls their arms even again, a furious Brian leans forward and the movement stops. Brian's face is burning red with anger and effort. They seem at a stalemate again and I wonder if Evan's stunt has backfired, has he run out of gas? But then Evan leans forward too and the two Hayes brothers are nose to nose, staring each other down with brutal intensity. I startle as I recognize the stare, having been the subject of it from each of them.
They were eyefucking each other.
I drop the ring, and panicking, crouch down to grab it again before anyone sees. I look up and have a full view of the Hayes boys lower bodies leaning against the kitchen island. Each of them has a massive tentpole stretching their pants.
I quickly stand up again, pocketing the ring, and I try to control my breathing. Is this really happening, am I dreaming again? They're really, actually into each other? I'm turned on in a major way, but also angry. What the hell, that's twisted!
Still, my dick is throbbing fit to burst when Evan makes his move: he turns his wrist and that huge bicep changes shape, going from a smooth ball to something split, a second squarish peak erupting out of the first one. His forearm swells and a diagonal bulge the size of my own swollen cock rises out of its belly. I can't take it anymore and I blow a load into my shorts, the Senator senses what happens and pulls me into his body and puts his hand over my mouth to dampen the sound of my sex moan. Somehow Dr. and Mrs. Hayes manage to miss it as they watch their sons compete.
Brian growls and redoubles his efforts, but for naught as his bicep, swollen in a huge mound, is pulled into a twisted stretched shape like golden taffy as Evan slowly, evenly, but unrelentingly moves his arm down toward the counter.
Brian's hand touches the grey slate and he hangs his head, and utters a soft: "No."
Evan releases his grip and both boys collapse forward, exhausted.
Dr. Hayes and Mrs. Hayes both look somewhat stunned. The Senator is the first to speak:
"What a match, my boys! Is this a house of warriors or what."
Evan sits back and looks up at me. "Guess I win, lucky me," he smiles. Brian is silent and doesn't meet my gaze when I look over. A second later he's gone and I hear the door to the basement gym slam shut.
I flush scarlet, overwhelmed by all that's happened, and the implications of what I saw.
"I... I think I need to go," I say to Evan, "can we talk tomorrow."
He smiles. "No problem, babe, I have to head back to West Point tomorrow morning, Matt only got me out for the one day. But don't worry, once I deal with that bullshit, I'll come up to Syracuse for our date. You'd better be ready for it."
"Evan, I guess you beat Brian. But I need to think about this. I'll let you know," I say.
Evan looks rattled. Has anyone ever said no to either Hayes brother before this?
"At least let me drive you home, babe," Evan appeals, but I decline. I have had enough of the Hayes brothers for one day, even though I'm half hard again thinking of Evan meeting me in Syracuse.
I make a polite departure, telling Mrs. Hayes "Please tell Brian I said goodbye." She gives me the warmest hug I've ever had, and whispers that she will. Dr. Hayes rests a hand on my shoulder and nods respectfully.
I offer my hand to Senator Samuels to shake, but he isn't having it. He pulls me into a bear hug and due to our height difference my nose gets buried in his chest fur. He puts his lips to my ear and whispers: "You get tired of boys, and want to hang out with a man, you come look me up in D.C., `kay, Zach." I look up at his broad shoulders and handsome face, with that bristly porn star moustache. Is he saying what I think he's saying? I feel him press a business card into my hand. I take it and simply say "Thanks" before heading out the front door.
In the chill air I get an Uber home, one of the few in service on Thanksgiving. I notice that the driver is a red head, in his thirties, but powerfully built - as big as Dr. Hayes.
"Home for the holidays?" he asks in a gravelly voice.
"Yeah."
"Mind if I put on some music?"
I ponder things as the driver pulls out into the suburban crescent shaped street. I used to think the biggest problem with the Hayes brothers was how I'd ever choose between them. But it seems now that I can't be sure they'd choose me, not over each other. And I don't know if I can share.
He fumbles with the playlist on his phone, and I hear a slow tune start up. I know this song.
Love just don't come easy No it seldom does When you find the perfect love Let it fill you up
Fuck, it's the song Dim All the Lights from the gay bar where Brian and I had sex. That was the happiest night of my life, but now it seems so stupid.
"Could you play something else?" I ask, and the driver flips through to another song.
"Why so glum, little snowflake?"
Who the hell is this guy to call me a snowflake? I guess I don't even care anymore.
"Guy troubles," I answer, pulling Evan's ring out of my pocket and rolling it through my fingers.
"Too few guys?" he asks.
"Ha! Too many," I say.
He pulls up at home, and I exit the vehicle, but he rolls down the window and calls me back.
Suddenly he adopts a strangely familiar Russian accent, "Little one, in my country we have a saying for this: He who chases two rabbits catches none."
I make the connection. "Magda?"
"Connor, when I'm out of costume. I like the blond," he says. "You're a cute couple."
He cranks up Dim All Lights again, then peels off.
"Fuck," I say to myself, alone on the suburban street I grew up on.
Abruptly, I feel like I can't wait to get back to Syracuse, and to school. The Hayes boys brought some excitement to the end of my high school years, but it's time to look forward.
I wonder what Luc is doing.
END