Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. If you have any feedback or encouragement, feel free to drop me a line at niftyguy_30307@yahoo.com.
OK. Time to get some work done. Breakfast eaten. Dishes done. Trash hauled to the curb. Shades adjusted. Desk straightened. Email answered. Fingernails clipped. Leak taken. Showered and shaved. It was time to work.
I sat down at my uncle's desk, woke up my laptop, and opened the file that contained the chapter that had been giving me fits for a month and a half. Where the hell was this book going, and how should I get it there? Ultimately, was the story about hope, or hopelessness? Does everything really turn out OK in the end, or do we just have to find a way to go on, even when everything turns to shit? Do we learn from our mistakes, do we let go of the toxic patterns? Do we ever really know if we've made the right decision? If I don't have the answers, how can my characters figure it out? Can a character in a book ever know something that the author himself doesn't know?
After an hour of staring off into space, not really getting anywhere, I decided to make the best of my writer's block. If nothing else, at least I would get some exercise. Maybe that would clear out some cobwebs, shake some answers loose. After a quick change of clothes, I blew out the front door and headed into the country. Despite the heat, it was a truly gorgeous day. Sunny, unusually low humidity, scarcely a cloud in the sky, the air full of sweet smells and bird songs.
I had been running for maybe thirty minutes when I realized that I was just a stone's throw away from Uncle Ed's old shed and the swimming hole. Just the thought of my wrestling match with Randy the day before caused a somewhat uncomfortable, and distressingly visible, bulge to develop in my shorts, but that didn't deter me from swinging by. Frankly, I think that I was hoping that I would find him there, so that maybe we could pick up where we had left off. I really hadn't been able to get him out of my mind. Rather than calming me down and enabling me to concentrate, the sexual release had seemed to stoke a fire that now demanded more fuel. Randy was nothing if not fuel for the imagination. And then there was Beau Hamilton. Was it just me pining for my lost youth, or had something more than garden variety lust passed between us when we shook hands?
I was a little disappointed to find the shed and the swimming hole both deserted. I briefly contemplated jumping in the water, but decided against it since I had a long run back to the house. Strolling around the shed, though, I noticed that a window in the back storage room had a broken pane, and I walked over to investigate. This was clearly a security risk; it was a simple matter to reach in, open the latch, and slide the window up. Peering in, I scanned the piles of junk that filled the room. What on earth had my uncle been thinking, saving all of this crap? What did all of these broken-down objects represent to him?
My curiosity suddenly piqued, and lacking a key to the lock on the main door, I hoisted myself up and over the windowsill and dropped down inside. The heat and the dust were intense, and I immediately let out a volley of sneezes. Just about everything in there was rusty, or dirty, or broken, or all three. Fifty, or seventy, or a hundred years earlier, you could have found anything you might have needed to set up a household from among these objects. Now they were collectively just a pile of junk.
My eyes were drawn to the three big trunks that towered in the corner. They reminded me of the sort of luggage that long ago might have been loaded on board a true, old-fashioned ocean liner, or an express train from New York to Chicago, or maybe lashed to the back of an ancient Packard. They were objects of a bygone era. But what about their contents? The top two trunks were locked with sturdy padlocks, but the bottom one was secured only by two battered latches.
It took some doing, but I managed to wrestle the heavy, locked trunks out of the way without doing any bodily harm to myself. Popping open the latches of the undefended box, I gingerly raised the lid, not quite sure what might jump out at me. Much to my surprise, right there, looking me directly in the eye, was my uncle. But not my uncle as I'd ever known him. Instead, it was my uncle as I'd known him only from old photos, my uncle the way he had once been, as a young man, smiling in a seersucker suit and bow tie, straw hat tilted rakishly on his head as he mugged for the unseen photographer. Sifting through just the first few layers of the trunk's contents, I realized that I had discovered a treasure chest of memories, a box full of photographs, and letters, and what looked like journals. It would take time to sort through the pile, but my guess was that these trunks held a good part of a man's life, preserved in paper and ink, waiting to be found and relived before it crumbled into dust.
If there had been no interruption, I probably would have spent the rest of the afternoon there, learning a little bit about my uncle while sitting on the dirty floor and sweating like a pig. But that was not to be. Just as I started to scan the spidery handwriting in the first of the leather-bound journals, I heard Randy's truck. There was simply no mistaking the racket that it made. I quickly returned my uncle's things to the trunk and closed the lid just as the clattering jalopy pulled up in front of the shed.
It would be an understatement to say that I was immediately excited at the prospect of seeing him again, and I started towards the main storage room, where I assumed he was coming to drop off or collect something for his lawn business. I stopped suddenly, however, when I realized that there were two voices that were clearly audible over the idling engine. Randy was not alone. That was enough to make me pause, and I just stood there quietly, hidden in the back room, as the shed door squeaked open and they came inside.
"OK, where the hell's that edge trimmer?" Randy's voice was unmistakable.
"Is that it over there?" asked his companion.
"Yup. I'll grab that and you take the hedge clipper and we can get the hell outta here. If I don't get on to the Bickford place I'm never gonna get done today."
"So you said Mr. Mayhew's nephew's going to let you use this place?"
"Yeah, and that ain't all that we've got goin' on."
"Oh really?" There was something vaguely familiar about Randy's friend's voice.
"Yeah, we had a whole lotta fun skinnydippin' when we came out here yesterday. I showed him the cave, and faster than a jackrabbit he was down on his knees, workin' real hard for me."
Randy's anonymous friend laughed. "You are so full of shit, it's dribblin' out your ears, that's all I know."
"Hell, you're just jealous. But don't worry, if you're sweet on him, his dick's big enough that there's more'n enough to go round. And if it's me you're sweet on, well, I'll always save some of what I got for you. You know what, I bet if we went by his place tonight, maybe round eight o'clock, we could have ourselves a real good time, just the three of us."
"You're joking, right?"
"No sir."
"Well, OK big talker, we'll just see about that. You be in the square at 7:45, and I'll swing on by. I should be done with supper at my granddaddy's by then."
"You got yourself a deal."
The door slammed shut, the padlocked clicked into place, the engine roared, the tires spun gravel, and, just as abruptly as they had arrived, they were gone. For a moment I was literally rooted in place, trying to make sense of what I had just heard, wondering whether Randy Brinker and Beau Hamilton were indeed going to pay me a visit that night. It didn't take long, however, before I concluded that I needed to get back to the house. Immediately.
I swear to God that, as the afternoon turned into evening, the tall clock in the front hall was taking one tick backwards for every tock forwards. When you're in that frame of mind, every hour contains one hundred and twenty minutes; every minute contains one hundred and twenty seconds. Time enough to cook, and eat, and clean, and shave, and shower, and change the sheets, and stash lube in the nightstand drawer, and look out the window, and pretend to read a magazine, and check email, and look at the clock again. And somehow, some way, eight o'clock finally arrives, but there's still nobody at the door. The minutes continue to tick away, until finally a car pulls up, two doors slam, feet clomp across the porch, and the doorbell rings.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
"Hey old man, what's going on?" Randy flashed his high beam blue eyes on me.
"Not much, just thinking about doing some work," I lied, looking first at Randy before smiling and nodding at Beau. "What are you boys up to? I didn't realize that you hung out together."
"Oh, we do a little of this and that, ain't that right, Beau?"
"I guess you could put it that way," he said, looking conspiratorially first at Randy and then at me.
"So what brought you by here?" I asked.
"Uh, well, you know that I said I'd mow your lawn for rent for the shed. I just wanted to check with you about when you wanted me to do it. I got my schedule here, so we could look to see where you'd fit in." Randy held up a battered notebook.
"My lawn? I thought that you said there were some other. . . odd jobs you could do instead." I winked at Beau.
Randy looked a little uncertain. "Well, I'd still do your lawn, if that's what you want."
"OK, well why don't you boys come on in and we could take a look, and then you can be on your way." I ushered them in the front door and led them to my uncle's study. "Why don't you just have a seat, and I can get us something to drink. Am I going to get into trouble if I give you a beer?"
"Hell, no," Randy exclaimed. "What do you think we drink up at the swimmin' hole?"
I quickly fetched three beers from the kitchen and returned to find Beau and Randy parked on one of the overstuffed sofas flanking the fireplace. I passed out the drinks and squeezed in between them.
"So, why don't we take a look at the schedule?"
Randy opened his book and started droning about when he mowed this lawn and when he trimmed these hedges, but I honestly don't think that I heard a word he was saying. The crackling tension among the three of us was growing exponentially, as knees accidentally touched and arms just happened to brush against each other.
"So you think Fridays'll work out for you?" Randy finally asked.
"Mmm, Fridays, yeah, I don't see why not."
"OK, well there's just one more thing to schedule in, then, and that's something that maybe I can take care of now."
"What's that?"
Randy pressed his lips up against my ear. "Suck your cock."
I tried to keep my cool. "Oh, I think I've always got time for that. How about you, Beau?" I asked, turning to him.
"I don't have anyplace I need to be. Maybe I can help."
As Randy bent down to put his face in my crotch, I leaned over and lightly placed my mouth on Beau's. His lips immediately parted, enabling my tongue to slip inside and taste the beer he had just been drinking. His breath was hot and moist, and I immediately started to get hard, giving Randy something to nuzzle through my cotton shorts. It goes without saying that I was more than happy to give him access to whatever he wanted, so I spread my legs wide, enabling him to easily slide his mouth across the hard-on that snaked down the right leg of my shorts. It didn't take long before his moist breath and saliva soaked through the thin fabric and joined with the precum that was oozing out of my dick, creating a spreading slick spot. As Randy worked on me, I slipped my hand under Beau's t-shirt and began to explore his lean, muscular body. Just by touch, I could tell that his skin was flushed from excitement, and I leisurely traced a route from his flat stomach up across the hard planes of muscle that defined his chest, pausing to tug gently at the sparse tufts of hair around his nipples.
When Beau finally pulled his t-shirt off, I finally got an appreciation of just how sexy he actually was. While Randy had the muscular build of someone who would be at home on a rugby team, Beau had an almost feline quality, long and lithe, a body that could wrap its wiry muscles around whatever it wanted. The two of them were a study of contrasts, and I was going to have them both.
Randy and I followed Beau's lead and stripped off our t-shirts. Meanwhile, Beau boldly reached for my zipper and pulled it down before slipping his hand inside the fly of my boxer shorts. The feeling of his hand on my cock was electric, and I just leaned back and watched as he extracted my prick. I was hard as a rock, twitching and leaking like crazy, and my excitement just ratcheted up a notch when he began to slide my foreskin back and forth across my purple knob.
"Fuck yeah," Randy muttered. "That fucker's horny as hell. Come on Beau, pull that skin over the head."
As Beau obeyed his blond friend, Randy leaned down and inserted his tongue inside, sliding it between the fleshy hood and the hard, pulsating knob. This first contact with his wet tongue sent a shiver through my whole body; I felt like electrodes were delivering targeted electric shocks to every nerve ending, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. These feelings only intensified as both of them began to suck and nip and lick, running their tongues up and down my shaft in unison, lips meeting around my purple cockhead, sucking like they were starving for meat.
I was temporarily satisfied just to lean back and enjoy the attention, running my fingers through Randy's short blond hair and Beau's wavy chestnut locks as they worked on me. Eventually, though, I decided that it was time for them to lose their shorts. Tracing the thin trail of dark hairs that started at Beau's navel, I meandered down to his fly and quickly popped open the buttons that were holding him inside. He immediately got the hint and began to wriggle out of his shorts. Once he was free, I gently gave his cock a few strokes before turning my attention to Randy. He eagerly stripped down, and the two of them then helped me slide my own shorts off, taking care to extricate my cock from the tangle of fabric.
Now that we were all naked, I pulled the two of them down onto me. The feeling of our taut, bare skin touching was almost intoxicating; I think that all of us just reveled in the sensation. I reached out and grabbed their cocks, comparing Randy's long shaft and bulbous head with Beau's thick organ, perfectly shaped to worm inside a hole and then open it up as it sank in deeper. All three of us were breathing harder as we stroked, and touched, and kissed, and licked. Finally, I decided that a change of venue might be in order.
"How'd you guys like to move upstairs for a bit?"
Meeting no objections, I led them up the stairs to the front bedroom. Randy promptly parked himself up against the headboard.
"Come on Beau, why don't you help your buddy out here," he said as he waved his bobbing erection back and forth. Beau glanced at me and smiled before scooting up to Randy's crotch. He quickly got down on all fours and went to work, sandwiched between his friend's massive thighs, which were tanned and covered with blond fur. It was extremely exciting to watch Beau's red, wet lips traveling up and down Randy's thick erection and over his dangling balls, but Beau's upended butt also attracted my attention.
Moving around behind him, I knelt down and reached between his legs, enabling me to pull his own hard-on back. Nuzzling around the compact head, I got an intense whiff of the acrid scent of sex, prompting me to slowly trace a trail with my tongue along the underside of his dick, from the tip all the way up to his balls. Unable to speak with his mouth full, Beau just groaned as I began to suck in earnest. He tasted unbelievably delicious, and as I got more and more drunk on lust I began to expand the territory I was exploring, trying to find more sensitive flesh to sample.
I was a little afraid that Beau was going to cum as I moved into the crack of his ass; his whole body started to shake and I could feel that he had broken out into a sweat when I placed my hands on his hard, muscular buttocks, gently spreading his cheeks so that I had better access. I began to very slowly drag my tongue through the damp furrow, teasing the purple ring of flesh as I went by. Up and down I went, and he responded to my licking and sucking by raising his butt even higher, as though he wanted to expose more flesh to my probing tongue. I didn't learn until later that his ass was virgin territory; everything that he was feeling at that moment was entirely new to him.
Emboldened by Beau's obvious interest, I retrieved the lube from the bedside table, squeezed some out, and smeared it across his puckered flesh. I began my tracing the circumference of the clenching ring, which was fringed by dark brown hairs. Very gently, I poked one finger through as I simultaneously jacked his cock. I briefly glanced up at Randy, who was holding onto Beau's head, which was buried in his crotch. He grinned at me and I winked back at him.
Beau's virgin ass was unbelievably tight, and I wormed first one, then two, and finally three fingers inside, trying to loosen him up as I probed the tender flesh. It didn't take long to find his male G-spot. As I massaged this sensitive patch, he began to groan loudly even while he sucked his friend, no doubt sending strong vibrations up and along Randy's cock. When I was finally convinced I had done as much as I could with my fingers, I took a deep breath and parked my lubed cock up against Beau's hole. Slowly, gingerly, I poked through.
"Unnh," Beau groaned, and his body seemed to go limp as he temporarily pulled off of Randy's cock. "Oh fuck, oh fuck."
Doing my best to help him accommodate the invasion, I pulled out briefly before poking back through. I continued this see-sawing motion for several minutes, slowly pushing in deeper and deeper, a millimeter at a time, until finally his internal sphincter pulsed open and I slipped through. The sensation of being encased inside the warm, moist canal was unbelievably exciting, and I imagined that my balls were shifting into overdrive, pumping pure testosterone into my veins, ratcheting up my desire for pure, raw fucking.
Leaning forward and molding my body over Beau's, I circled one arm around his chest and reached down with my free hand to grasp his hard dick as I began to pump deeper inside of him. I started slowly, deliberately, focusing on each stroke in and out. As I increased the tempo, though, things began to shift, and expand, and open up, and suddenly I wasn't just fucking him with my cock; I was using my whole body. We were fusing into one. Beau was melting into me, and I was absorbing him. When I pressed my lips against his back and rubbed my stubbled chin against the flushed, damp skin, I created sensations that rippled throughout his body, vibrating into his guts and back to me through my cock, which was completely buried inside of him. We were riding a pulsating wave together, tuned to the same frequency, squeezing and clenching in perfect time.
I honestly have no idea how long this continued; not even the sound of the hall clock's chimes could penetrate the haze that had settled over my brain. Finally, though, it became clear that Randy had reached the end of the line.
"Oh fuck yeah," he groaned, holding Beau's head still as he pumped his squirting cock deep into his friend's mouth.
"Give me a taste," I almost whispered, intent on sharing every one of Beau's experiences. Randy pulled his still-pulsating erection out of Beau's mouth and shakily stood up, enabling me to grasp the dribbling head between my lips. The salty spunk tasted like raw sex, and it was all I needed to trip the circuit in my brain that started the cascade to orgasm. I felt Beau's cock erupt in my hand a split second before I pumped the first pulse of hot sperm into his guts.
We were very quiet afterwards, more than content to lie there in a tangle of sticky limbs, dozing a little, relaxing in the familiarity of each other's bodies. I stayed hard inside of Beau for a helluva lot longer than would be typical, and he didn't seem to mind leaving me parked there. When I finally did pull out, he shuddered just a bit, but he turned around to put his mouth on mine.
"That was fucking awesome," he said.
"If you ask real nice, maybe you'll even get a repeat performance."
At that moment Randy piped up. "You guys'd better not forget about me."
Beau reached over and grasped his friend's semi-hard prick. "No need to worry about that, good buddy. Now that Jeff here's blazed a trail, maybe I'll give in next time you try to fuck me."
Suddenly hungry and thirsty, I proposed that we go down to the kitchen and get something to eat and drink. "And you guys are welcome to spend the night, if you want to," I said. "There's more than enough room, if you're interested." Needless to say, they did not require much persuasion.