This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
A beautiful sunny Brisbane morning awaited us when we woke early on Saturday in our hotel suite. It was Ty's 30th birthday and he was stirring as I jumped out of bed to open the curtains and the French doors leading to our private balcony.
"Happy birthday, mate!" I grinned as I padded naked back to bed.
Ty raised his head and smiled, and then a look of concern swept across his face. "Mike, I'm really sorry!" he said sheepishly.
"What for?"
"I fell asleep last night ..."
"Don't worry about it, mate," I laughed. "You were tired."
"But we were going to ..."
I cut him off. "We've got a late check-out!" I smirked. "Plenty of time to put one away!"
As I slipped back under the sheet, Ty reached for me. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at his face. "30 today!" I grinned. "So for starters, you're getting 30 kisses!"
I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. "That's one ..."
"Mate, I'll end up with chapped lips!" he cackled.
"Oh, you're not getting them all on the lips!"
I threw the sheet off him and started to kiss him from the top down, starting with his throat, his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his armpits, his stomach and his pubic hair. I looked up grinning as his soft cock started to waken and rise to greet me. It got a kiss, too. Three, in fact. I kissed his balls – one kiss each – the inside of his thighs, and then kissed all the way down his legs to his feet. I stopped and looked up, smiling.
"That was actually 31," he grinned. "I counted. I need to give one back."
I slid back up to lie next to him and he leaned in, covering my mouth with his own, kissing me with his lips, his hands in my hair. I slipped my hand behind his back to pull him closer to me. I was about to run my fingers down his tummy to the treasure below when his phone rang.
"Fuck," he hissed, pulling away from my mouth.
"Apparently not," I sighed.
Ty looked at his mobile. "It's Mum and Dad."
"Better take it, mate," I said. "They're ringing for your birthday."
I got out of bed and put my robe on as Ty answered the call. As I grabbed a juice from the mini bar and headed on to our balcony, I could hear him thanking his folks for their birthday wishes. He explained why he was in Brisbane and not on the Coast with Scott, and I heard the happiness in his voice as he told them that his lawyer Mike had organized for him to meet Leonard Cohen.
I picked up the hotel's breakfast menu and slipped it in front of him with a pen. As he chatted, he ticked juice, poached eggs and bacon with toast, a bowl of fresh fruit and fresh coffee. I went into the lounge and used the other line to call room service, add my own choices to Ty's. Within half an hour, they assured me.
I opened our door and picked up the two Brisbane daily papers. I flopped on the couch and started reading the Courier Mail' and when I reached page seven, I immediately saw a four column wide photo of Ty with Leonard Cohen taken at Alexander's the previous evening. The headline read Rock Star Hill Meets His Idol'. I tossed it aside and flicked through the Brisbane Times', finding a similar sized photo of the two under the heading When Leonard Met Tyson, It's Hallelujah!'
The Courier Mail' photo was taken head on, the Times' from the side and in both, Ty was beaming like a Cheshire cat. His radiant expression knocked years off him, making him look years younger than the milestone he was celebrating today. And I noted that the resemblance to Scott was uncanny.
I placed both pages in front of him on the bed as he talked to his Mum, and his face lit up. "Mum, there's photos of me in the Brisbane papers today!" he enthused. "They might also be in the Sydney papers. You'll have to look. I can't believe how much I look like Scott in these shots. Yes Mum, he's fine. He's eating well. No, he's not surfing when it's choppy ..." And so it went.
He finally hung up after a brief chat with his Dad and was about to speak when the phone rang again. And again. He kept his calls brief with Scott, George, Vince and Monique and just as he finished the last of them, the doorbell rang. Ty disappeared into the bathroom as room service wheeled in our breakfast and this time I had them set it up on the balcony.
Ty emerged from the bathroom in his robe and we took our seats outside, looking over the spectacular Brisbane River as we made short work of breakfast. We sat and looked at the river as we drank our coffee, Ty intermittently thanking me for his birthday surprises.
"The hotel's been nice," I admitted. "I love having George and Scott around but every now and again, it nice to have you all to myself."
"Speaking of which," Ty smirked. "I'm going to have a shower. Wanna join me?"
Inside the suite, we dropped our robes and stepped into the double shower, enjoying the water spray and rubbing gel over each other's bodies. By the time we were clean, we were also both rock hard. We dried each other and walked back through the lounge room to the bedroom.
"A late check-out, yeah?" Ty asked.
"Yeah!"
"OK, let's see. `Do Not Disturb' sign?" Ty asked.
"Check!"
"Door latched?"
"Check".
"Mobile phones off?"
"Mine is!"
"So's mine!"
"Curtain's closed?"
"Check".
Ty pushed me back towards the bed and then jumped next to me, scooping me in his arms in one fell swoop. He kissed me, and then kissed me again before moving his head and licking the side of my neck.
My cock started to swell again. He looked down and smirked, so aware of the effect he was having on me. Our next kiss was long and languid, and when it ended, I slid down the mattress and buried my face in the heat of his groin. I ran my parted lips up his swelling shaft, slipping my mouth over the head of his cock on the upstroke. I treated him to the best head I could offer, mindful not to take him to the precipice. I had plans for his prick.
When I sensed he was getting close, I backed off, rolling on to my back with my knees raised, my ass splayed before him. I felt his pulsating cock against my leg, sticky with precum. He lowered himself between my legs, lifted them slightly and used his lips to nip his way up my thigh until his mouth was once again kissing my ballbag. This time, he did a `hummer', holding my sac in his mouth and humming. I didn't recognise the tune, but I was beyond caring. I wanted him inside me. No, it was beyond want; it was need.
With a gentleness that belied his commanding personality, Ty effortlessly raised my hips and buried his face between my cheeks. I thought I'd sighed, but when the sound left my lips, I realised it was a loud whimper. He lapped his soft tongue from my portal to my nuggets, his thumbs holding me open to him. When his tongue made its way inside me, my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Every nerve ending in my ass was raw as he flicked his tongue up and down, and then in delicate circles.
My erection had returned with a vengeance and much as I could have died happily with Ty's tongue inside me, I was close to coming. I reluctantly pushed Ty's head away and he looked up as I sat up. He moved and sat cross-legged in front of me. Holding his gaze, I spat in my hand and reached down and coated his rigid rod. I smiled at the wave of desire that flashed across his face.
He gently pushed me backward until my head rested on two pillows. As I raised my legs, he grabbed a third pillow and slipped it under my hips before moving to lie raised above me. With one hand he angled his cock so it pressed lightly against my expectant entrance.
He remained static for, what? A few seconds? A minute? Time stood still. He lowered his lips and kissed my eyelids, before pushing very gently forward into me. His cock was as stiff as steel and slowly he slid home, not stopping until his balls were resting in the crevice at the top of my ass cheeks.
I'd never felt so full. Or aroused, for that matter. I looked at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut as he acclimatized to the warmth and snugness of this welcoming haven for his hog. He raised his head and kissed me with such ardour that my heart started beating hard and fast enough for both of us. With his lips still pressed to mine and his tongue probing my mouth, he started to move in slow, gliding strokes that created a sensation like fireworks exploding in my grateful ass.
He established a pace that thrilled us both, thrusting his hips forward in a steady rhythm that had me lolling my head from side to side, as my prostate sent a message to my brain begging all my other nerves to back off. With practiced skill he impaled me fully before withdrawing so that just the head of his throbbing manhood was inside me. Such was my need for more that each time he withdrew, my anal muscles clutched tightly around his crown, desperately trying to draw him back in. Each time I did that, he made noises that sounded like a puppy whimpering to be let in from the cold.
Relentlessly he ploughed me, to the point where I felt we'd somehow become one, totally in tune with each other's feelings and needs. Without warning he shifted his position slightly and began gliding over my gland with fast strokes. I started to pant, my hands clutching at his muscular butt cheeks, forcing him as deep inside me as was humanly possible. The quake started in slow motion and I was almost sobbing when my orgasm hit. I was writhing beneath him, clutching at the sheets as my cock spewed several rounds of molten man juice between our heaving bodies.
It was all over then for my hot rocker. With a roar that was like nothing human, he thrust forward and held still as his floodgates opened and he poured his seed into me in quick, hot bursts. His climax literally knocked the wind out of him and he gulped for air as his cock twitched inside of me. Sweat from his forehead fell like raindrops on to my face and, as he came down to earth, I pulled him down so that he lay prone on top of me, my right hand rubbing his ass cheeks in gentle circles.
I buried my face in his neck and peppered it with quick kisses as his breathing gradually returned to normal. We lay that way until his shrinking manhood was forced from my ass by the sheer force of the load he'd blown, which needed somewhere to flood.
Ty rolled on to his back and we lay side by side, each basking in the aftermath that only truly exceptional lovemaking produces. The silence in the room was broken only by our mutual contended sighs. I lay on my side facing him, slipping one arm under his neck, while the other rested low on his tummy, my hand lightly stroking his belly and tickling his pubes.
"I love you, mate", I whispered in his ear.
Much as we were enjoying being alone and would have loved to just lie in bed all day, check-out time was looming and we had a long drive ahead of us back to the Coast. When Ty moved into his favourite spot – head on my chest with my arm around his shoulders – I knew he was about to fall asleep. I let him rest for a few minutes and then moved, waking him.
As I got out of bed, he groaned "where are you going?"
"Back to the shower, mate!" I laughed. "And then we've gotta get moving."
He groaned again, as I disappeared into the bathroom. I stood under the hot spray, washing away the sweat of our lovemaking and as I washed my hair, Ty joined me. While he soaped up, I stepped out and started to dry myself, enjoying as I always did the sexy sight of him in the shower. It was like being in a locker room and spotting the hottest guy you've ever seen, naked in the shower, without having to worry whether you'd be caught looking.
We got dressed and packed the suitcase and, with Ty clutching his treasured guitar, we vacated the suite. I handed Ty the car keys and told him to go to the basement and wait in the car while I checked out. We took separate lifts and for once, check-out was quick and smooth.
We hit the road with car roof down and were soon cruising the Bruce Highway en route to the Sunshine Coast. Ty was in a relaxed and happy mood, asking me to pick songs I liked at random and singing to me the ones he knew.
"Fantastic day, mate!" I smiled. "What's say we stop somewhere for lunch? Maybe at Yandina, or we could turn off the highway and drive to Maleny?"
"Maleny's good," Ty replied. "I went to the Maleny Folk Festival a few years back. Had a great time. I wanted to ask the organizers if I could sing, but I was too chicken!"
We shot the breeze as we headed down the highway, and I managed to change the subject when Ty began wondering out loud whether Scott and Simon had got up to anything nasty.
When I saw the exit sign for Maleny and Montville, I turned off the highway and we were soon winding our way through the Blackall Range, enjoying the spectacular views of the Sunshine Coast hinterland. Turning on to Steve Irwin Way, we drove past Australia Zoo into Landsborough and then up the mountain, stopping at a cosy restaurant called The Terrace.
Despite being a Saturday, we arrived on the early side for lunch and pretty much had the place to ourselves. We relaxed at our window table and took our time over our meal. Rather than choose separate dishes, we opted for the banquet meal; home baked bread, a platter of fresh crab, oysters, prawns, Moreton Bay bugs and salmon, followed by a selection of mini desserts.
As always for me, the joy in a meal with Ty was watching him approach it. He inspected everything first, lifting it from his plate with the flat of his knife to see what was under it. I noticed the satisfaction on his face when he realised that this was a meal that could be partly eaten with his hands. Examination complete, he tucked in with great enthusiasm, eating some morsels au naturale, dipping others in the assortment of sauces that accompanied the platter.
When something was especially delicious, Ty's eyes would close as he savoured the taste; his expression was similar to the one I often saw close-up as I lay raised above him, my cock buried deep inside him. Similar, but not the same. Not even fresh seafood was that special.
When the waitress wandered by and put a bowl on French fries on our table, Ty's reached out to grab a handful, but suddenly stopped and hovered. He looked at me. I laughed and nodded. And as half the fries were scooped up, I was rewarded with that goofy grin I found so endearing.
We ended the meal with coffee, settled the bill and cruised back on the highway towards our temporary coastal home. Replete from lunch, Ty lay back in his seat and quietly sang the songs his new good friend Leonard had sung in his showcase the previous evening!
At one point, he turned to me and as I concentrated on the road, his hand was on my thigh, and I felt his eyes boring into me ... "And sometimes when the night is slow, the wretched and the meek, we gather up our hearts and go, a thousand kisses deep ..."
"Better move that hand mate, or we'll have an accident!"
Our final hour passed quickly and before we knew it we were turning into the winding driveway to our seaside hideaway. We tooted the horn and retrieved our luggage from the trunk, but there seemed no sign of life. We looked at one another and shrugged.
Opening the front door, we walked up the stairs to the main area of the house and were suddenly confronted with balloons and streamers. Simon was at the piano with Scott and George standing beside him, and they launched into a barbershop trio rendition of "Happy Birthday To You" ...
Ty leaned against the door jamb and grinned as the guys went through their paces, and looked around the room in gratitude at the effort they'd made to celebrate his birthday. Their sincere but tuneless greeting complete, the three of them took turns to give Ty a hug as they led him to the couch where a smorgasbord of nibble platters was laid out in front of him.
He sat and answered all their questions about his meeting with Leonard Cohen and, as chilled beers were handed around, he was presented with gifts. Flowers from Vince and the rest of `Team Ty' had already been arranged in vases, presumably by George. Into his lap, two nicely wrapped gifts were dropped.
Scott had jumped online early in the morning and checked the `Courier Mail' website's photo sales page. He had selected an unpublished photo from Ty's meeting with Cohen, paid for it and had a JPEG mailed to him. Simon had then driven him into the township where a local photo shop had printed an enlarged glossy. Simon had bought a silver frame from a local gift store, so their gift was a combined one. The photo Scott had picked was one of Ty and Cohen caught laughing, and Ty loved it.
His other gift, from George, was a boxed bottle of French champagne which delighted Ty, even though I knew he had no idea of its cost.
I sat back and delightedly watched Ty once again relive his magic moment with his idol, and proudly showed off the autographed guitar that had been gifted him.
As evening approached, Ty suddenly announced he was hungry and asked what was for dinner. Proudly Scott told him the menu had been the subject of much debate. George, he explained, had come up with a "killer" Hill family dinner.
"We're having a roast," Scott beamed. "Roast lamb, baked potatoes, pumpkin, corn cobs and peas!"
"And gravy?" Ty asked hopefully.
"Yep," Scott grinned. "I rang Mum and talked her into giving me her gravy recipe. George has nailed it!"
"You're a legend George!" Ty laughed. "What about afters?"
Scott and Simon started to laugh, and both turned to look at George.
"I asked Scott what you'd like, sir," George smiled. "And he explained your favourite dessert. So I've made you a `big fat motherfucker of a chocolate cake with icing so thick you could bury your balls in it'. It wasn't called that in my day, of course."
Ty and I cracked up, and Scott feigned shock. "George!" he gasped. "You really need to watch your language!"
I was surprised to see Ty, never usually one for outward displays of real affection towards anyone but his brothers and me, stand and embrace George. "George," he beamed, "I fuckin' love you!"
Again, Scott jumped in, obviously imitating his mother: "Tyson Hill, I don't appreciate that sort of talk under this roof! Go to your room!"
Ty grabbed Scott in a headlock, ruffled his hair and kissed him on the cheek. "You're an asshole Scotty, you know?" he laughed. "But God, I love you."
George's classic Aussie roast was a tour de force, as all of his meals were, and the highlight for me was watching Ty lick his plate, just as he'd threatened to do at E'cco the previous afternoon.
Once all the main course plates were empty and cleared away, George walked in with his `big fat motherfucker' chocolate cake and, ever the stickler for detail, he'd covered it with 30 small hand-placed candles that Simon had picked up from the supermarket.
We all joined in on another rousing chorus of `happy birthday' and then I sat back and watched in amusement and awe as the Hill brothers smothered their faces in chocolate icing. By the time they'd finished, they looked like they were wearing face masks.
Once the cake was all but demolished, it was another round of beers and wine. Ty had a call from Vince and took it inside the house, leaving me to banter with Scott and Simon, who took advantage of Ty's absence to regale me with stories of Scott's driving lesson mishaps.
A couple of times during our chat I heard Ty's raised voice and hoped that all was well. Ty returned to the table looking a little subdued. My radar was on instant alert.
"Everything OK mate?" I asked, trying not to sound worried.
He seemed preoccupied for a moment or two and then appeared to make a conscious effort to be bright. "Yes mate," he grinned, slapping me on the back. "Everything's fine. Who's for a glass of Cristal champers?"
My lawyer's instinct kicked in and I knew something wasn't quite right. It also warned me that now wasn't the right time to pursue it.
George brought the champagne to the table in a large silver bucket filled with ice and with great flourish, popped it. We all cheered as the cork propelled itself to the beach below. Scott and Simon both had a sip and turned up their noses. Great! More for us.
Ty and I worked our way through a glass and a half each, before the boys announced they were going to shoot some pool. We watched them bounce off to the games room and as George began clearing plates, I once again raised my glass to Ty in celebration of his big 3-0.
As we clinked glasses, Ty looked me in the eyes and said, "This has been my best-ever birthday, thanks to you."
"Mate," I grinned, "it was worth it just to see your face when you had your moment with Lenny! Now you know how your fans feel when they get to meet you one on one."
"Yeah," he replied, as though the thought had only just occurred to him. "I guess I shouldn't get so tense when they start blithering about how much they love my songs. I just did the same thing to Leonard Cohen ..."
He let in sink in for a few moments before I casually asked, "So, everything OK with Vince?"
"Yeah, I guess," he sighed. "It was a reality check. Only a few days more up here and then it's back to the real world. The album's going to come out, there'll be a promo tour, TV appearances, a newspaper and magazine interview schedule longer than your arm, and then the fucking concert tour. Back on the road. I've gotta be a rock star again."
I smiled and rubbed his arm. "Just remember the small win you had, mate," I assured him. "You reached a compromise with the album and there's more of you artistically in it now. All the other stuff is the oil that keeps the machine chugging along. Try and think of it as a `head space'. For part of the year, you're a commodity – Tyson Hill – and for the rest of the time ..."
"What?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
"For the rest of the time, you're just my guy. And Lachie and Scott's brother."
It was subtle, but I noticed the wave of sadness that crossed his face. He looked at the floor for a while and we sat in silence before he finally said, "Can we go for a walk along the beach? There's a couple of things I need to talk to you about."
Ominous?
I desperately wanted to keep things light.
Denial?
"One more surprise for you mate," I said, before wandering into the lounge and taking an envelope out of the desk drawer. Ty looked curiously at it and then at me, before ripping it open.
I watched his face as he read the email I'd receive from Ben Chappell, my good mate from The Song Factory. If Ty had been overjoyed at a $250,000 advance for publishing on his `Love On The Rocks' album, he was gonna burst over the offer for his forthcoming second album.
Ty's eyes widen and he looked at me, almost speechless again. His mood changed instantly. Not, I knew, because the money was important to him, but because of how it might help those he loved the most. "You're fucking KIDDING me?," he gasped. "$400,000? Four hundred thousand fucking dollars? Fuck me. Seriously. FUCK ME!"
Intrigued by the commotion, George was hovering in the doorway as Ty leapt to his feet and punched the air with his fist, a reflex action he made every time he was stuck for words. "Mate," he gushed. "I don't know how the fuck you do it but you just manage to make amazing things happen."
He grabbed my hand and wrenched me to my feet, planting a kiss on my smacker in full view of George. He pushed my shoulders back, grinned like a Cheshire cat, and then bent me backwards and leaned in, covering my mouth with his own, grinding his groin into mine at the same time.
Bending backwards, I was taken by surprise and from the corner of my eye I noticed George move towards the table carrying a blanket. He removed the champagne bottle from the bucket of melted ice and upended the chilly water over the two of us. We both jumped in shock, Ty almost dropping me to the decking in the process.
"What the fuck, George?" gasped Ty.
"Sorry sir, but it was a safety precaution," George deadpanned. "You were in danger of spontaneously combusting. There've been about 200 instances of people exploding without any apparent external source of ignition."
"But we're soaking wet," Ty whined.
"Yes sir, I know," George replied. "Just remove your clothes and I'll put them in the dryer."
Like admonished schoolboys, Ty and I started to strip, neither of us in any way self-conscious that we were soon standing naked in front of George, proffering our dripping clothing to him. In return, he handed us the blanket he was holding.
"Off you go, then," George smiled. "Your clothes will be dry when you return."
It felt liberating, wandering naked along the moonlit beach with Ty. I was walking slightly behind him, mesmerized as I always was by the gentle sway of his firm buttocks, marvelling at the manly arch of his back, the strength in his long legs.
He turned as we walked, strolling backwards and watching me closely. He stopped half way along the beach and waited for me to meet him, and then grabbed me and kissed me. I shook the blanket George had given us and laid it on the sand, close to the waves lapping on the shore of our private beach. He sank to the sand, and we lay side by side, looking at the stars. All was silent until Ty finally spoke.
"Can you help me set up some trust accounts mate?" he finally asked.
I didn't show it, but relief flooded over me. Was this all it was?
"Sure Ty," I assured him. "I'll talk to my financial guy. What kind of accounts?"
"When you got me that 250 grand for the first album, I set aside 50 percent of it, 20 percent for mum and dad and 15% each for Lachie and Scott. I just set up a streamline account linked to my own bank account. I did the same with all my royalties. But there's a lot of money in there now and tax wise, I think I need to set up a family trust. And now, with this 400 grand, I want to do the same thing."
"Do they know about it?" I asked.
"No, not really," he replied. "They know I've earmarked some bucks for them, but they don't have any idea of how much money's there. There's 20% off the top of it all for Vince of course, and I want you to take your percentage too."
"Let's not have this discussion, Ty," I sighed. "I don't want any of it. I just made a couple of calls. It's your music that brought in the money."
"I can't do that, Mike," Ty insisted. "You deserve your cut. It wouldn't have happened without you"
"Please Ty, let's not set a precedent by arguing about money," I pleaded. "Seriously, mate. Here's a compromise - take 10% off the top of the $400,000, after tax, and give it to Scott to pay for his year of travel. I didn't get around to giving him anything for his 18th birthday, so it can be my belated birthday present."
All was silent again. The sound of the waves seemed louder suddenly. I was aware of my own breathing. A few moments passed before Ty moved. I was aware of him rolling from his back to his side, facing me. I felt him looking at me intently. Slowly I rolled on to my side facing him, meeting his gaze. His lips were parted, and a slight smile turned the corners of his mouth upwards, yet his eyes didn't seem to sparkle the way they usually did when our faces were so close.
Eventually, he moved his hand to my face and ran a finger from my forehead, down my nose, and lingered on my lips. I was tempted to suck his finger into the wetness of my mouth, but I didn't. He moved on, running one finger over my stubbled chin, down my neck to my Adam's apple. From there he spread his hand and moved slowly downwards through the hair on my chest, his spanned fingers grazing my nipples. I shuddered.
Leisurely his hand slipped lower, gently across my belly, through my treasure trail and rested for a moment in my pubes. The combination of the gentle sea breeze on my naked skin and his warm hand caused my cock to stir. He moved lower still, his hand running lightly over the expanding column until he reached the boys in the basement. And there he rested.
And only then did he move, leaning in to kiss me as his hand wrapped around my sac. His kiss was gentle and I opened my mouth to accept his tongue as my own hand reached down and cupped his man bag. We remain locked at the lips and our hands massaged and squeezed, both of us enjoying having our boy bits played with.
I gently pushed Ty on to his back and my eyes surveyed his splendid body. Sliding my hand down his torso, I wrapped it around his throbbing shaft and took time to look at it in the moonlight. It was like a giant tree trunk sprouting from its dark forest floor, its smooth bark patterned with pulsing veins. At its tip, its eye was weeping.
Ty's eyes were closed as I leaned down and flicked the clear, sticky fluid with my tongue. Over the lapping waves, I heard his gentle sigh. It became a groan as my mouth closed around his helmet and my tongue darted around the rim, causing his penis to quiver.
Without warning, I plunged my mouth over his entire length. He moaned and held his hands on the back of my head, keeping his cock embedded in my throat. When I finally came up for air, he rolled me sideways on to my back and then moved us into a classic `soixante-neuf'. As he settled, it crossed my mind briefly that in all the months we'd been together, this one had somehow not found its way into our sexual repertoire.
With me underneath him and his legs wide apart on either side of my shoulders, I had unrestricted access to his low hanging balls, which I sucked into my mouth one at a time. It was hot, having my mouth full of his movaries as his mouth engulfed my rampant flesh tower. As I continued to lap at his nutsack, I moved my hand to his swollen cock and stroked it in a firm grip.
As I worked his glands, my hips were raising off the blanket in a bid to ensure that my cock was getting the complete benefit of his wet and silky mouth, and our mutual whimpering created a soundtrack of sexual bliss. Ty's cock suddenly got even harder in my hand and, knowing his release was imminent, I again took his orbs in my mouth, sucking each of them deep in turn before expelling them. I tasted his outpouring of precum as he moaned around my cock, and my chest and stomach was suddenly flooded with his warm seed.
His ejaculation didn't slow his efforts to pleasure me, and as he continued to salivate around my dick, I spread my legs as far as I could, giving him full access to my body. As his mouth worked its magic, he caressed my balls lightly. He felt me tense up and picked up the pace until the moment of truth arrived, and my body jerked like white lightning before I emptied myself into his welcoming mouth. He stayed with me until I started to soften, eventually falling from his pursed lips.
He stayed in that position until we were both again breathing normally, and Ty repositioned himself to lie next to me on the blanket, both of us gazing at the stars. I turned and kissed his cheek. "Now that was good!" I whispered.
"Yeah," he responded, without looking at me.
Something wasn't quite right, but I was damned if I could put my finger on what it was. I reminded myself that caution is the better part of valour and said nothing. We lay together for a while before I suggested perhaps we might head back to the house and hit the sack.
We stood and shook our blanket, and wandered back in silence. As we neared the house I wondered how we'd explain walking in naked if Scott and Simon were watching TV. I might have known George would be a step ahead; draped across the bottom of the stairs to the balcony were two bath robes and two towels. We put the robes on and wandered up the stairs, to find the lounge empty and the TV off. As we entered the room, George walked through the kitchen door.
"Did you enjoy the beach?" he asked.
"Thanks George," I replied. "We did."
Ty, who'd been absentmindedly looking out the windows to sea, asked "Where are the boys?"
"They went to bed, sir," George responded, glancing at me quickly.
I filled the gap by jumping in with, "We might call it a night too, George. We're tired. See you in the morning."
"Very well, sir," George smiled. "Goodnight Mr Hill."
Nothing.
"Ty?" I ventured. "George said goodnight."
Ty looked apologetic. "Sorry, George. See you in the morning."
As George returned to the kitchen, Ty and I started walking to our bedroom. As we walked down the hallway, the sounds of young males in heat seeped out under Scott's closed door. Ty stopped in his tracks and looked at me, alarm registered on his face.
We stood for a moment, rooted to the spot; there was no mistake, someone was being royally fucked. Who it was, it was hard to tell. The grunts and groans were intermingled.
I gathered my wits and dragged Ty further down the hallway to our room. "Fuck," he hissed. "I knew this was gonna happen."
"What's your point?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders. "We've been through all of this Ty," I sighed. "They're adults. They're allowed to have sex."
"I know," Ty said softly. "But he's my brother, for Christ's sake."
"Don't forget, your other brother supported you, mate," I offered. "Now it's your turn to be non- judgmental."
We cleaned our teeth in silence and got ready for bed. Ty seemed pensive, even preoccupied. I didn't let on, but I felt quite unsettled.
In the bathroom, I kissed Ty on the lips and climbed into bed. Some time went by before the bathroom light was turned off and in the darkness, I could see Ty pad across the room and slip in next to me. We lay apart for several minutes before Ty turned on his side and spooned against my back.
The silence finally got the better of me. "Is something wrong, Ty?" I asked quietly, as my stomach did a somersault.
Ty didn't answer immediately. I heard him breathe deeply before he said, "There's something else we need to talk about."
My somersault turned into a pole vault as I ventured, "What is it?"
Another deep breath. "It's about you and me, Mike," he replied, his voice strained. "I had an argument with Vince and, well ..."
The sentence hung in mid-air as Ty choked back a sob, burying his face in my neck.
My body slumped, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. If I wasn't so stunned, I might have laughed; I knew from the start, on some level, that this had all been too good to be true ...
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