Date: Sun, 30 Mar 2014 22:26:02 -0700
From: Tyler Waggoner <twag1983@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Family Made - Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
homosexual themes of an erotic nature between adult men and teen aged boys,
if this offends you or is illegal for you to read, possess in electronic or
printed form, please stop reading now.  The views and opinions expressed by
the characters are not necessarily those of the author. It is illegal for
this document to be copied in any manner (paper/electronic), except for the
enjoyment of the individual reader, or hosted on other websites, published,
or be altered, changed, or utilized, without the expressed written consent
of the author.  The characters in this work are the sole intellectual
property of the author.  Unprotected sexual acts are depicted — if you
choose to have unprotected sex, be aware of all the possible risks for both
you and your partner, and be disease free and HIV negative.

COPYRIGHT 2014; All rights reserved.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first story.  I wrote the first two chapters, so
I'll begin my posting.  I will be developing the story line, writing
upcoming chapters from different character perspectives, to give reader's
insight.

I'm definitely open to suggestions on the story line, activities of the
characters, etc., so do not hesitate to contact me, at
TWag1983@hotmail.com.  Thanks, Tyler.

** NOTIFICATIONS LIST ***

For those of you who want to be notified when my stories are released, just
send an e-mail to TWag1983@hotmail.com.

A Family Made — Chapter 1

July 2009

"Pleeeaaasssseee? ... Dad it will only be for a few days".

"Nik, it won't be any problem.  Really", Marc glanced over at me with an
understanding look in his eyes.

I looked over at my son, Lucas.  At 14 years old, as of last Friday, he
stands out.  His hair is a deep mahogany, soft, shiny, with gentle curls
that frame his ears, which are pinned — gently tapering outward toward
small delicate lobes.  His face is perfectly proportioned ... chiseled yet
boyish ... his eyebrows full, straightly marching across his upper orbit,
tapering into model-like fine hairs as they reach for his temples, framing
his eyes — large deep, crisp, Pacific Blue drops on the most brilliant
almond-shaped white canvas — very long, densely thick eyelashes, that
curve, ever so slightly, upward — drawing you in, as they weightily fall
when he blinks.  His nose is symmetrical, ever so impreceptably flaring,
proportioning his features.  His lips are full, soft, supple, arrantly
positioned ... a deep lush pink — there the slightest hint of `peach
fuzz' on his upper lip.  His high cheek bones and the chiseled angulation
of his jaws are accentuated by double dimples, which sink inward when he
smiles — a brilliant white, full tooth, `melt you away' smile.  His neck
— defined, muscular, yet delicate, accentuated with his Adam's apple —
which has become more prominent as his voice continues deepen.  His chin
has the slightest of clefts.  His skin has the hint of bronze — soft and
baby-like — that hugs his muscular swimmer's-lean frame (narrow cut
waist and broad, defined shoulders) — the best parts of his mother's
Brazilian features being fully expressed.  At 5'9" and 130#, Lucas had
literally shot up over the last year.  His voice has deepened —
scratchily sexy.  His fingers are long and he has the most beautiful feet —
defined Achilles Tendon that flares into a bulbous heel ... his heel tapers
into his sole, which flare widely before his long defined toes — his 2nd
toe is longer than his rounded big toe — perfectly identical pair.  To
my amazement, his feet were already a size 11 1/2.

Lucas is an accomplished competitive swimmer; in fact, he has won metals in
Junior Nationals and Junior World free style and butterfly, and this year
was selected Junior Best overall and State Swimming Champion of the Year
... he also plays winger on the local hockey team.  His ass has nicely
round, muscled globes, with striking dimples as his tapered low back meets
his ass cheeks His legs are muscular — strong defined thighs and calves.
He is hairless like me, with the exception of his underarms — a cute
clump of silky hair is visible when he lifts his arm. He has a very slight,
wisping treasure trail beginning just below his nave, a taunt confluence of
inny and outie, merging into a densely thick bush.  His pouch is filling
out nicely as well.

In addition to his beauty, Lucas isn't just a bright kid, he is extremely
gifted — he will be starting his Sophomore year at Lakeside School in
August, having skipped a full grade, despite challenging honors courses.
In addition to his excellence in sports and academics, he loves art, being
quite good at painting (which he started when he was nine) and sculpting
(which he first started barely a year ago).  He is fluent in written and
spoken Portuguese and speaks French, Spanish, and Italian; over the last
three years picking up and now rather fluent in Bulgarian, (guess that is
his best friend, Jesse's, influence), with smatterings of Czech.  Recently
he began to study Japanese, as one of the guys on his swim team is first
generation American, from Osaka.

"Marc, are you sure?", I questioned, "I'm hoping I'll be able to join you
by Friday, but if there are any delays I could be later", I said.

"Nik, don't worry.  Lucas and I will have a great time.  It'll be the start
of a guy's week off", Marc said, winking in Lucas's direction. "and, you
don't fly again for nearly two weeks". "Plus", he added, "the three of us
can celebrate the 4th.  Its remote and it has been a wet Spring.  I bought
fireworks", he said as Lucas looked at him and gave a `thumbs up'.

"Honey, don't worry.  Nikky needs the influence of a man, not his mother at
this stage in his life!  He will have a wonderful time with Marc", my wife,
Rafaela, reassuringly said from across the kitchen, using her nickname for
our son.  The look from Lucas and Rafaela was priceless.

Lucas had completed all of his studies, with swimming breaking for six
weeks — he had been, essentially, `home-alone' as Jesse, his best
friend, had gone to Europe for six weeks.  He spent his days, reading,
sculpting, listening to music, and swimming (over at Marc's house).

"Alright, I give in ... I give in", I said looking putting up the palm's of
my hands in surrender.

I then, turned, looking right into Lucas's eyes, "Don't give Marc any
trouble.  Do exactly as he says at ALL times".  Lucas quickly rolled back
his eyes, then enveloped me in a huge, tight, hug.

"Thanks Dad".  "It will be so cool up in the woods with Uncle Marc!", Lucas
turned and gave a high five to Marc.

"Nik", Marc said, "I know your mind has been elsewhere ... you'll do
fine!", pausing, "Don't", he put his hand on my shoulder, "stress out!".

Marc was so understanding.  What Marc knew was that my `check ride' was
happening on the outbound to Hong Kong tomorrow. Every commercial pilot has
supervised flights, demanded by the FAA and further complicated by the
airline, to assess their overall competence on the flight deck
(cockpit). Your every move, from pre-flight planning to equipment checks,
through the flight, and post-flight closure, were all scrutinized with an
Eagle's eye.  The Chief Pilot, himself, was doing mine — a former naval
`top-gun' and a helluva pilot.  I found out this morning, when I checked in
with the airline to confirm the trip.

Marc is actually my best friend; we have known each other since we were ten
years old.  Military brats.  Until we met, I don't think either of us had
anybody (except our siblings), who remained in one place — I had a
brother and he had a brother and a sister.  We both had lived in more
places than most people see in a life time.  Fortunately, Marc's dad and my
dad were Navy SEALS, each decorated — that led them to San Diego to
teach at the SEALS training center on Coronado.  Marc's mother came from a
multi-generational wealth family (they met when Marc's father was on
deployment) who (for as long as I've known Marc) lived in Europe.  Marc and
I actually met at a beach party on a San Diego beach; we found out we were
enrolled in the same school.  We even went to Annapolis together (the Naval
Academy), eventually splitting for different career paths; Marc into
aeronautical engineering — me, into flight school.  Marc, as an
aeronautical engineer, made a killing with some key designs that were
bought by the US government.  Marc was then hired by a multinational firm
that gave him phenomenal stock options, as COO — he now consults from
home (mainly to stay busy as he can certainly live off his portfolio —
he also has a whopping inheritance from Julia, his wife, that put him in
the stratosphere financially).  Marc relocated the family to Seattle about
eight years ago when he was working on a major project with Boeing.  He
married well; his wife, Julia, was the daughter of an engineer who made a
large fortune in satellite technologies (to add to the family's wealth) —
something to do with `key communication' circuits and a few more having to
do with an encryption algorithm.  Marc and Julia bought their home (in this
very upscale neighborhood in Seattle of South Queen Anne) with cash; they
also had a home in Kauai and one outside of Paris.  Rafaela, my wife, and I
bought our home (three houses down) with her family money.

Me, on the other hand, live to fly. After I finished my stint with the US
Navy, flying jets off a carrier, I was hired by an international airline
(that is how I ended up in Seattle); I do aerobatic flying as a hobby, keep
my skills honed.  I made Captain on the 747-800 last year — thank God
for aging pilots — I will now be based in SEA (the three letter code of
SEA-TAC, Seattle's International Airport), until I decide to transfer. My
vacation increased to three weeks per year, but, as I'm a `junior' Captain,
I don't get them consecutively.  Tomorrow, I fly out to Hong Kong to start
a four day trip; when I return I have a week of vacation — with the
upcoming 4th Holiday, it works out to be almost two weeks.

Marc (Marc Jakob Velitchov), Bulgarian (with a smattering of
Czechoslovakian) descent, is a 6'4", muscular mass, at 235#.  His face is
chiseled with a prominent angular jawline, thick blond hair, blue eyes,
with thick eyebrows.  His hands are massive, with large fingers that
accentuate his Naval ring, and prominent thumbs.  He has a monstrous,
veiny, 9.5" — cut, with a nice plump helmet and huge slit — low
hanging, huge balls — full chest hair that tapers into a thick straight
treasure trail above and below his taunt, inny, navel ... disappearing into
his extremely dense, furry bush.  His neck and back are hairless.  He has
one of those `macho man eight-packs', having only 4% body fat.  His legs
are thick, with nice manly calves, just the right amount of hair leading to
huge wide feet, each toe with a little tuft of hair.  His ass is the
perfect `bubble-butt'.  I should know, I've showered with him often enough
over the years.  Marc got Julia (who was the high school homecoming queen)
pregnant during their senior year, at the age of 18 (to the chagrin of her
father who advocated public education — no elitist schools for his
baby).  Marc didn't stop breeding during college either; he has six
beautiful kids.  The oldest are twins, Marc Jr and Ryan (both 20 years
old), Sofia (19 years old), Jon and Tyler (18 years old — yep, twins
again), and Jesse (the youngest at 15 years old), who will be entering his
Junior year next year (brilliant, just like my son Lucas). I found out
several years ago that this was despite Julia having six miscarriages The
twins are definitely all Marc — buffed like he is.  His daughter and
youngest son, are smaller (taking after Julia) — they are all
strickingly good looking.  His wife, Julia, passed away just over two years
ago — breast cancer — fighting a long and courageous battle —
fortunately, his daughter Sofia (and all of Marc's son's) do not carry the
gene responsible for their mother's cancer; Julia's mother had passed away
almost fifteen years earlier from the same disease.  Marc's mother passed
away when he was a young engineer (blood clot) and his father the year
before last (probably due to exposure to a toxin while on a Navy mission
that remains so classified, he could only find one person who even
acknowledged it).  Julias loss was devastating for all of us, but
particularly Marc's youngest, Jesse, who adored his her.  It is obvious to
the eye, that Marc works out two hours a day, as well as being an avid
sportsman (skiing, hunting) — but now he has even more time. His
Bulgarian/Czechoslovakian heritage is a definite asset to his muscular
physique.

Marc and I are both 38 years old.  I'm Nicolas "Nik" Eirik Vidarr, both
parents (and their parents and on up) are Norwegian (in fact, I'm a 2nd
generation American), 6'1", muscular at 200#, blond hair, blue eyes, a
strong and well defined angular jaw with a cleft on my chin, firm ass, with
little body hair except for my bush and pits — even my balls are
hairless.  I'm thick, but smaller, at 8", cut, with one large vein
underneath — running the length of my shaft.  I met my wife when I was a
freshman at Annapolis, after many wild nights and lots of girls (and a few
boys) later, we married — forced as I slipped and got Rafaela pregnant.
We've been married 18.8 years.  It is a strained relationship, to say the
least.  After college — while I was on deployment — with a small
child, Rafaela relocated to Chicago to complete a Masters in Business at
Kellogg School (Northwestern University).  She considers herself as
`upwardly' mobile — ascending the corporate ladder — a cold and
calculating business woman who is now the President of a large technology
firm.  Lucas is our youngest child (I guess that fulfilled the 1.3 kid rule
for Rafaela since you can't make just part of one); Julianna (named after
Marc's wife) was born the same year as Sofia; Sofia is also Julianna's best
friend — both are now in their Junior year of college (Sophia at
Princeton, and Julianna at Harvard); they're hoping to study together
abroad during their Senior year — I've heard gossip of The Sorbonne).  I
lost my parents in an auto accident in Germany last year, so besides Marc's
and his kids, Rafaela and our kids, I have no other family.

Marc and I fooled around when we were in our early teens; in fact, the
first time I came was with Marc.  Typical boy things (jacking, touching —
eventually blow jobs), which faded when we hit our mid-teens as girls came
in every direction.  Then after Marc met Julia (at the end of our Junior
year in high school), I was on my own.  I do remember getting drunk in
college, and I think we fooled around then, too, in the back room of an
off-campus dive bar — t the haze keeps me from remembering anything in
detail.  Then of course, your busy making a family and establishing a
career.  While there are always the possibilities, I don't believe Marc
ever strayed from Julia. Now that he was single, a lot of women and men
pined after him.  I could see it at school meetings and when I see him
around Seattle.  Hell, he's a very rugged, strikingly handsome guy —
drop dead masculine, as a matter of fact.  I wished he would finally date —
find a woman who could complement him — share his life with him —
complete him — he certainly deserves it!  I think a shapely brunette
would look nice on his thick arms.

Me — well — I have strayed — when Rafaela starting building her
career at the expense of our sex life, I did, finally, seek solace —
elsewhere.  I have always enjoyed a tight wet pussy, so I created a little
page on a dating site.  I'd get the occasional lady who'd be in the same
situation, or a young thing looking to explore.  Never, though, would I
risk getting a girl pregnant — no fucking way!!  If I trusted her, I'd
make sure she was at the `right' time of month — fuck her raw — then
pull out and shoot all over her breasts and stomach.  Otherwise, I would
safely wrap it and make sure there were no breaks, before diving in.  But,
in all honesty, if I wanted head, I'd find a guy.  Usually younger with no
drama or ties — it was hot to feel a guy's mouth — `chowing down' on
my tool — watching him as I'd exploded in his mouth — cheeks puffing
out, trying to keep up while ferociously swallowing — while I shot over
and over — a fuckin' turn on for me.  And, guys know how to pleasure a
throbbing cock — never found a chick who could suck well enough to do
that.  I'd also had a relationship a few years ago, with a younger college
kid — yeah a guy — Brandon, just barely 19 years old — it was the
first time I ever was in a hot, tight, boy pussy — it was the most
incredible tightness I had ever experienced.  His muscular pussy milked my
cock — pulling my seed out — I erupted deep inside him — flooding
his bowels — he loved it.  It was rather passionate for about two years
— whenever I could, I'd meet him, before a trip or when I flew back in —
spending the night on many many occasions — we had a small apartment
downtown after the first year (Rafaela never knew) — Brandon is the one
who convinced me that I was bi — all a mental thing for me, as he was
the first guy I kissed and the only guy I've fallen in love with — and I
didn't have to worry about knocking him up!!!  I knew I had to be careful —
I didn't want to ruin my career or loose my family — hell, he was in
love with me and I with him. I was having an awesome time.  I liked my
manhood inside him and the feeling of protecting him and providing for him,
and he liked it that way — he was the bottom and I was his top.  His
body was lean, feminine, and he complimented me so well.  I realized
eventually that I couldn't have a family and him — God, the making love
to him was so wonderful — I can still close my eyes and see him,
post-coital, laying on my chest as he would fall asleep.  But, in the end,
I couldn't loose my family — it was the hardest thing I did when I broke
it off — he understood, surprisingly, which to this day I still have a
hard time with — occasionally I will get an email from him — he now
has a husband and is truly happy (besides Rafaela, it was the longest
relationship I've had with anyone besides my best friend).  I guess that is
why I notice the male form, as much as I do.  I have bedded a few beautiful
women while on trips since Brandon and I parted (never with the airline
though — "don't get your meat where you...", or so the saying goes.  So,
I'm no saint — definitely no saint — unlike my best friend whose
every move has been about his kids, his wife, his friends, and his career—
in that definite order.  Even Marc staying here in Seattle is all about
Jesse, his youngest son.

"Well, I think it's settled.  Lucas and I will leave tomorrow afternoon",
"and you", Marc looked over to me, "will get there on Friday".  "Hopefully,
you won't be too tired, Nik, to get up and drive on Friday!".

"Rub it in Marc", I said, "rub ...  it ... in", jabbing my finger into his
massive arm for emphasis while.I said it.

"Well", Rafaela said, "I will have plenty to do", then turning toward Marc,
"I'll look in on the house as promised".

"Thanks Raef", said Marc, with a smile.  Marc had two maids and a cook, but
still felt better if someone checked up on things.

"Well, it's good that the kids were able to go to Europe and see their
grandfather", said Rafaela, "particularly before Marc Jr and Ryan
graduate", she added.

"Yeah, it's hard to believe they will both be seniors in college next
year!", pausing, "and its good that the kids took Jesse under his wing the
first time away from home without Julia or me",said Marc. "I'm glad they're
all going to have a nice summer together ... probably the last time for
awhile", said Marc.

"Marc", I said putting my hand across the back of his neck, "glad your able
to take Lucas with you", gently gripping his neck in my hand.  "I thought
I'd never hear the end of it", looking over at Lucas.

"It will be nice to have some time together, Nik.  We'll definitely be
thinking about how hard your working" , Marc said with a sly smile.  With
that, I gently slapped him on the back of the head.

"Lucas, don't forget to pack your swim suit.  The lake is just about right
to spend time in early in the afternoon", said Marc.

"Uncle Marc, already packed", said Lucas.  I could tell he was excited.

"Marc, I'm surprised you haven't moved to the mountain home", I said, "I
know how much you love it up there".

"Well, Nik, it has crossed my mine a lot over the last several months", he
said, with a wandering look in his eyes. "I guess I've stayed here more for
Jesse than anything else".  Lucas looked over toward Marc when he heard
Jesse's name.

"Yeah, I get that", I said, turning to look at Marc, "at least you have a
wonderful place to be, when your up there", I said referring to his land up
in the North Cascade Mountains in Northern Washington.

The evening slowly wound down.  Lucas and Marc had left to go over packing
details.  As they left to walk the few houses down, I saw Marc reach over
and put his arm around Lucas's shoulder.  Marc has definitely been there
for Lucas when I've not been, I thought.  I watched as they walked down the
street then turn into Marc's driveway, finally disappearing behind the
dense hedge.

I helped Rafaela clean off the table and stack the dishes.  I don't know
why she only kept day-maids, no cooks for her and no staff living in the
house.  I went to my den and reviewed a few manuals and other procedural
things in preparation for tomorrow's `check ride'.  I went by Lucas's room,
but the light was out.

"Honey, is Lucas still out?", I yelled down the stairs.

"Yes Nik.  It's Saturday night ... no worries", I heard her slightly
chuckle (as in a `you just noticed?' sort of way).

I returned to the den to review more manuals and some checklists, thinking
about tomorrow.  I must have been consumed because when I looked at the
clock it was close to 11pm..  I got up, then went into our bedroom and took
a nice long shower.  God, the more I flew these trips the less I looked
forward to their length.  As the hot water splashed over me, I couldn't
help but being so contented though.  It was going to be a wonderful week
and at the end of it, I'd have a week in the cool air of the mountains with
my best friend and my son.  As I turned off the water, I could hear the
faint chirp of the alarm as the front door opened — has to be Lucas I
thought.  I finished drying off, hanging up my towel, as I heard the faint
sound of the shower down the hall in Lucas's room.  I brushed my teeth and
then put my robe on.  I went down to Lucas's room and looked in.  I could
smell teen everywhere — definitely a testosterone smell, admixed with
`old' cum (what boy his age doesn't self-gratify a few times a day?) but
also something new — there was a fine light musk scent with a hint of
spice — rather a nice lingering fragrance — not too heavy.  I smiled
— probably finally wearing some cologne ... I smiled.  Lucas was growing
up so damn fast.  He was an extremely tidy kid, but I noticed that his
clothes were piled just to the right of the bathroom door, next to his flip
flops.  I could hear him humming in the shower.  I reached down and started
picking up his clothes.  As I reached his shirt, I noticed that scent again
— I put it to my nose and sniffed it and sure enough there was a fine
hint of it, but only on the collar.  I then reach down and smelled his swim
trunks — the scent far more stronger.  Yeah, I'll definitely ask
Rafaela.  I put the shirt in the hamper and threw his swim suit on top.

I looked over to his dresser and smiled as I saw the vast array of swimming
trophies and metals there. His most recent sculpture, that of a swimmer on
the block, ready to plunge into the pool, stood about 8" tall — he was
so proud the day he completed it — it was now fully bronzed and I
carefully admired it.  The intricacy with which he had sculpted the face,
the starting pose, the sinuous muscles and even the faintest outline of the
swimmer's corona, pulled in the pouch of the swim suit, and the dimple
above the defined ass — wow, he really observed things in the minutest
of detail.  His art also was on the wall, small 2" x 2" and larger 1' x 1'
oils — intricately detailed — of places he had seen in pictures.  He
had a framed picture of Marc, Jesse and him from his State win early in the
year — the boys had their arms around Marc, who was in the center —
all were beaming. There was a picture of his mom, both arms wrapped around
Lucas from behind — both with radiant smiles, after a hockey game.  I
looked over and saw another picture of Marc and Jesse, standing with Julia,
then another of all of Marc's family, then another of Rafaela, Lucas, and
me (probably three years ago, as Lucas hadn't entered puberty yet), then
another of Lucas and me from a few years ago when he was in Little League —
Lucas beaming, posing with his bat ready to strike.  Finally, I saw a
picture of Jesse and Lucas, both in their competitive swim suits, standing
by Marc's pool, arms around each other's shoulders, their developing
teenage bodies wet.

I could hear Lucas as he appeared in the doorway — a towel hanging low
around his waist.  He was definitely filling out, with a nice cut between
his belly and his hips — his six-pack was more developed than I
remembered, and he was developing a nice, defined treasure trail.  His
navel was even more tautly pulled his muscles, which made him even more
sexier.  His legs were really developing, with nice cuts in his thighs —
totally hairless, which accentuated the muscular development.  Absolutely
smooth chest with defined and developing pecs and nice `5 cent' nipples.
His biceps were developing quickly with a sexy vein on the front of each;
his triceps were more defined and his deltoids and pecs had doubled in size
from when I last saw them.  His moderately curly hair was wet, with some
water dripping onto his chest and over his nipples.  The outline of his
cock looked pretty decent too, against the moist towel.  Wow, I needed to
spend more time at home — Lucas was growing up very quickly.

"Hey Dad", he said scratchily, "thanks for letting me go.  I'm really
psyched".

"I know you'll have a blast", I said as I walked over and tussled his hair.
He looked up and smiled, his dimples accentuated in the low light, his
teeth luminescent.

"I know, I will Dad.  I really like Uncle Marc.  We've planned the whole
week out", he said beaming, then he looked down, then up as he added more
softly, "it will be fun when you come up too".

I looked down at him, and said, "well I h o p e so!", as I noticed his face
flush.

"You ... you know that isn't what I meant", he said as he quickly regained
his composure.  He walked over to his dresser, with the slightest of a
limp. I also noticed red marks to the right side at the base of his neck,
and another one on his upper back, just above the dimple in his low back,
above his developed ass cheek.

"Lucas, what happened to you?", I asked.

"Oh Dad", he said, noticing that I was looking at his back, "just picked up
something heavy when we were in Marc's", "uh, Uncle Marc's garage", he
quickly added.  Then he said, "I fell against some shelves.  Nothin to
worry about".

"Well, be careful, I don't want you hurting yourself", I gently smiled.

As I was leaving I heard him say, "hey, where are my clothes?".

I said, "In the hamper", quietly closing the door.

The sun was just peering above the horizon as I awoke on Sunday morning.  I
looked over and Raef was already up; most likely getting Lucas out the
door.  I could smell the freshly brewed coffee and the increasingly
inviting fragrance of cinnamon, crawling up the stairs.  As I opened the
bedroom door, I could hear Marc and Lucas laughing.  I slowly walked down
the hall and saw Lucas's door was open, his gym bag was packed — his
iPhone sitting on top.  I had never done this, but I walked in and picked
up his phone.  As I hit the button, the screen came on and I was looking at
a message screen.

There was a pic.  I hit it and a screen view came up — wow!  It was
Lucas in his competitive swim suit, his cock nicely defined with an outline
of full balls, his treasure trail was wet and sexily matted, the Speedo was
wet, and, as I looked up the muscular cuts of his developing six packs, the
water trickled down suggestively — the cuts between his waist and groin
were impressive.  His curly hair was wet — beads of moisture accentuated
his `5 cent' nipples.  His deltoids and arms looked amazing — the vein
on the front of each bicep — full — taunt.  His face was absolutely
stunning, with the moisture accentuating his lips, his high cheeks, his
deep dimples — the angles of his jaw — a small water droplet
tenuously set in the cleft of his chin, ready to drop.  His eyes were the
most phenomenal deep blue, with crisp white framing the blue in a way that
was surreal — his eyelashes lush and wet.  He was in a traditional
swimmer pose — his beautiful legs and feet slightly — his pelvis
suggestively thrust forward, hands on his narrow hips — standing small
puddles that surrounded each foot — by the championship pool — his
gorgeous feet firmly accentuated.

Wow.  I couldn't stop looking — my son was absolutely the most beautiful
specimen I could have imagined.  I clicked back and saw what he had
written.

"FNL PRF", my son's text read.

"WOW 6Y", read the reply from `Jess'

"RUH?", read my son's reply

"ALWYZ", read `Jess'

"143", from my son.

"1432 KOTL", read `Jess'

"SETE", read my son.

"SD?", read `Jess'

"NGL L2KWU", read `Jess'

"1432 4E <333333", my son's text read.

"RSN SUITM SD <333333333333", read the reply from `Jess'.

"SD", read the reply from my son

"TAU LOTS!!!!!!", read the reply from `Jess'

"143 QT SD TAUALT", read the reply from my son.

I didn't have time to figure out what was being said.  I heard laughter
downstairs and I quickly put the phone back on top of his bag, thinking he
might be coming up the stairs any moment.  My heart was racing as I felt
guilty sneaking into his stuff.  I don't know why I did that, I never have
gone into Lucas's things.  I'd have to ask him what he was saying to
Jessie; I'm sure filling him in on things, as he was in Europe.  But, no, I
couldn't do that ... he'd know I was in his stuff.  Not good.  No not a
good idea at all!  Why didn't Lucas tell us about the picture — well I'm
sure he will — I forgot that traditionally, the State swimming champion
was put in the State's sports magazine — it was centerfold display.  It
was done for most of the State sport's champions, but swimming was a
favorite as it was one person — not a team — and, skin sells.  I
could smell that light musk scent but couldn't place where, exactly, I'd
smelled it elsewhere — it was someplace other than Lucas's room; yes,
definitely a cologne.

God, all I could think about lately was this `check ride'; I'd have to
focus more on Lucas when I got back.  I quickly hurried toward the stairs.

As I entered the kitchen, Marc was leaning over Lucas with his hand
pointing to a photo, with Rafaela scurrying about getting breakfast ready.

"Hey sleepy head", said Marc, turning around to look at me as I entered —
I picked up a cup of coffee along the way.

"Well, I see that you two are ready to go", looking at Marc.  I went over
and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Hey Dad, Uncle Marc was just showing me the lake", my son chirped.

"Yeah, its pretty nice up there this time of year", I said.

"Well Lucas, you'll see it soon enough for yourself ... we'll be up there
in a few hours", said Marc.  As he said that his hand gently brushed
against the small of Lucas's back.

"Yeah, and after last night, I'm totally psyched", Lucas said looking at
Marc.

"Hey guys, I almost forgot!", Lucas said as he jumped up and quickly left
the kitchen.  I could hear him quickly ascending the stairs (an assault on
the stairs actually, as he took the steps two and three at a time).  He
returned carrying his laptop.  I could hear the familiar Apple `chime' as
it booted.  He sat back down, next to Marc, and I could hear the keyboard
click as his fingers danced.  I could see Rafaela's face (as she stood
behind Lucas and Marc) as the screen brightened.

"Oh sweetheart!", she exclaimed, "You are absolutely gorgeous ... my Nikky
... my baby .. a champion!", she praised.

I knew this must be Lucas's picture ... so he didn't forget us, I thought.
I slowly got up and walked over.  As I looked down, I almost audibly
gasped.  Lucas was even more breathtaking on the larger screen.

"Son", I paused. "all I can say is congratulations ... and WOW ... WOW!!",
I said, slapping the side of his shoulder.  I then leaned down and kissed
the top of his head, "I'm really proud of you son!".

"You guys like it?!", he blurted, as he turned to Marc who was seated next
to him, and then looked up toward me with his beautiful eyes.

"Like it?", Marc said, "your dad is right!", "WOW!!".  He reached over with
his large left hand and grabbed the back of Lucas's neck, rubbing the back
of Lucas's head with his thumb, as he leaned over so he was closer to
Lucas.

"I think I can speak as the Uncle", he lovingly said, "your a beautiful kid
... stunningly beautiful ... and an all star athlete!  I'm very, very,
proud of you!!".  "We all are Lucas!", he added, as he looked back at
Rafaela and over to me.

"Nikky, when will it be released?", Rafaela asked, excitedly.

"I think next month mom", Lucas said, "but, I got you a copy on paper", he
beamed.

"How about for me?", Marc turned to him, smiling.

Lucas turned to Marc, "and you too", then looking up at me, said, "and you
too dad ... uh, for your office", then he started laughing (Lucas was
referring to the way pilots talk about the flight deck — referring to it
as `the office').  I smiled back, then said, "well, it will look very nice
on the corner of my desk in the den!".  He smiled up at me.

We all stood there admiring the picture.  Rafaela finally said, "more
coffee anyone?", as she went over to the coffee pot.  I made my way over to
my seat, looking back.  Lucas and Marc looked very close.  Marc really had
taken a significant role in my son's life over the last two years.  I'd get
home from a trip and Lucas would be dunking baskets with Marc, helping him
with yard work (which Marc enjoyed immensely, even though he didn't have to
do a thing), or hanging out in his backyard (Marc has a 50 meter long,
indoor pool, which Lucas and Jesse used every day they could).  Lucas spent
a lot of his free time over Marc's.  It all made sense — Lucas needed a
man to look up to — a man who was around.  I think I was feeling the
guilty that I wasn't spending that much time with my son — that I had
spent so much time with Brandon — between my trips and the time I spent
in the simulator, then making Captain.  I smiled, thinking how nice it was
for Lucas to have solid Marc and his family.

It was only for a moment, but as Lucas got up I could have sworn his cock
was semi-hard.  Marc glanced down toward Lucas, as his hand slowly left
Lucas's neck, falling a little to his mid-back and then the small of his
back as Lucas pushed his chair back.  I saw Lucas's face flush a little as
he saw me, but as quickly, Lucas moved to the other side of the kitchen.
Teenagers — at this age they're always hard, I thought to myself.

"Nik, when is showtime?", Marc said, referring to the time I had to checkin
for the first leg of my trip.

"11am", I said, as Marc got up to get more coffee.

"Well", Marc said as he poured coffee in his mug, "you'll do fine Nik",
pausing as he put the pot back, "don't over think it", he said referring to
the `check ride'.  Turning his head in Lucas's direction, taking a swig of
coffee, he said, "we'd better get going".  He then turned to me and said,
as he set his cup down, "have a GREAT trip buddy".

Lucas joined Marc, who turned to him saying, "we'd better get going.  We
need to pick up food and supplies before heading up to the house, and I
want to show you around the entire property", adding, "I want the whole day
together in the sun!".

"Give me a few minutes and I'll have my stuff", Lucas said, as he kissed
his mom on the cheek and started heading out the kitchen.

"Hey", I said, dejected, as Lucas was just about out of the kitchen.  "I'm
here too!".  Lucas turned and walked over to where I was sitting.

"Sorry Dad", he said then bent down, pecking me on the cheek. He smiling
said, "Have a safe trip. See ya later this week?".  With that, he turned
and headed upstairs.

I could see Marc smiling.  "Well",he said, "don't worry Nik, Jesse did the
same thing to me before he left for Europe to join the kids".  "Lucas is
used to you disappearing and reappearing".  I smiled back.

"Yeah", I said, "I just feel like I'm being left out", pouting, for effect.

Lucas appeared in the doorway.  He had his bag tucked under his arm, his
curly hair under a red ball cap that was turned around backwards.  He was
wearing his usual — white sleeveless tee which I thought was too tight
(we'd argued that point many times before), but it showed off his nice
taper (broad shoulders to narrow waist), pecs, and arms, highlighting his
red swim suit and flip flops.

"Hey", I said, "get a pair of shorts on over that" referring to his skimp
speedo.

"Awww .. Dad", Lucas said, then set his gym back down.  I heard the zip of
the side pouch, and a pair of knee length shorts popped out.  He slid his
flip-flops off while fluidly gliding his legs into the shorts, buttoning
then zipping them up — all in a seamless motion — resituating his
feet back in them.  I looked at him, satisfied.

"Nikky, did you pack your toothbrush?", his mother said, endearingly
reaching for his gym bag.

"Mom, I have everything, including clean underwear!", Lucas said, rolling
his eyes characteristically, as his mom retreated.  He obviously had been
reminded by Rafaela of the `essentials'.

"Make sure you packed a pair of jeans and some thick socks", said Marc. "I
want to show you some of the trails that the boys and I climb when we're
out there".

"Yep, got'em", said Lucas.

"I can't believe you haven't been up to the mountain home yet", Marc said,
looking toward Lucas.

"Well, it isn't as if I didn't try before", Lucas said, "guess things
always come up".  Lucas knew that we planned on going up on several
occasions, but either I had a trip, or Rafaela had other events that
precluded going.  Then, when Julia became sick, a little over three years
ago now, we just didn't plan anything.

"Nikky, did you pack your pajamas?", said Rafaela as she turned to Lucas.

"Mom, its just us guys .. geeeeezzz", Lucas said, turning a nice crimson
red.  Rafaela wisely let that one go.

"Alright guys", Marc said, turning to Rafaela kissing her lightly on the
cheek.  Marc turned toward me.  "Have a good trip, NIk and call me when
your on the way up the hill".

"I will Marc", I said, "weather reports look good throughout North Asia and
Japan so things should be on schedule coming back".  I saw Lucas fall in
line with Marc as the two headed for the door.  "Lucas, remember to do what
Marc says, and I'll see you two on Friday", I said as they headed out the
door.

"Don't worry Dad", Lucas said as he followed Marc down the steps to the to
the sidewalk.  As I turned to see them, I saw Marc slow down and Lucas
catch up and fall in beside him.  As they walked down the street, Marc put
his arm around Lucas's shoulder.  I saw Lucas lean his head into Marc's
side.  I thought, as I closed the door, that it was nice to see my best
friend and my son together.

I realized it was now almost 8:30a as I reviewed a few last check lists
before today's trip.  I walked by Lucas's room on my way to get a shower.
As I turned in, I could see his skateboard, neatly resting beside the
dresser, leaning against the wall.  I walked over and opened a drawer.  I
pulled out a pair of his jeans and opened them up ... wow, I thought, he's
up to a size 26.  I'm definitely spending too much time out of town.  I
folded them back up and put them neatly on top of the others.  I then
opened the next drawer — it was full of Speedos — how many swim suits
does this kid own??  I lifted one out and saw how skimpy it was ... I then
thought of how nicely Lucas filled them.  Yeah, definitely sexy on him.  I
quietly closed the drawer, walking over to the hamper by his bathroom door.
As I lifted the hamper top, I noticed the swim suit Lucas was wearing last
night.  I brought them to my nose, almost instinctively, and I could smell
the intensity of that cologne admixed with chlorine.  Chlorine — not
unusual, as Lucas lived in the pool, but there was a definitely masculine
quality, almost like cologne mixed sweat, not chlorine.  Hmm, I thought —
yeah, I'll definitely have to ask Rafaela about the cologne.  I put the
suit back on top of the heap in the hamper, slowly closing the lid.  I
turned and closed the door as I headed out and down the hall — gotta get
ready so I'm not rushed on the way to the airport.

I had a nice hot shower, letting the water run over me.  I thought about
Lucas and how big he had grown.  I thought about how beautiful he was —
truly an eye-stopper — downright, pretty, in fact — I smiled,
thinking of Rafaela and how much Lucas's features were like hers.  I was so
lucky, even though my marriage was nil in the sex department and we have
been drifting apart — we did produce eye-candy offspring.  I then
thought about Marc and how he had been there so much lately.  I thought
about the way Lucas had leaned into Marc as they had walked down to Marc's
house — it was nice — they had bonded.  It was good that my best
friend, Marc, and my son were going to have some `boys' time; I know Marc
missed his kids, and certainly his wife.  In a way, I was jealous that they
would have nearly five days enjoying the woods, the lake, and just hanging
out.

I finished my shower, shaved, and put my uniform on — a starched white
shirt with epaulettes of deep navy with gold thin stripes — four of them
— indicating that I was Captain, a navy blue tie with the airlines logo
in the same color woven in at different points, with a tie clip that was
gold with the US Naval aviator insignia — and my gold wings over the
left breast pocket.  I slipped my crisp navy blue pants on, buckling them —
the buckle had the airlines logo deeply embossed — all in gold plate. I
slipped my blazer on — ID, clipped to my left lapel directly above my
heavy gold wings.  I checked my flight bag and suitcase — everything was
in place including two extra two starched white shirts and additional
departure/approach maps (just in case we had to divert).  I then slipped on
my just polished, black shoes. Yes, everything was good to go for my `check
ride'.  Before I left the bathroom, I spritzed a little Bvlgari on —
needed to smell extra special for today.  As I headed down the stairs, I
heard Rafaela finishing breakfast.  She was ending a cell phone call when I
entered the kitchen.

"Yes, I will look it over in a few minutes" she was saying, then she ended
the call.

"Glad your out of the shower, I wanted to get the laundry bagged so I can
take it to the cleaners", Rafaela said.

"Sure is early", I said.

"No", she said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "you just don't notice how
much I have going on in my life", she cocked her head up toward me and
smiled.

She walked off toward the coffee, mug in hand.

"Nik, I packed your bag for the mountain trip.  You may want to check it
before you take it up there with you", Rafaela said.

"Thank you Raef", I said, "that will save some time when I get in on
Thursday".

"I'm sure Nikky will call with something he forgot", she said as she
stacked the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, "so don't take it.  I'll
put `whatever' inside, before putting it down by the front door", she said.

I was soon off into Sunday Seattle traffic.  As I slowly made my way down
our street, I could see Lake Union come into view.  It was an absolutely
beautiful day, with the city in crystal clear view.  I could see the
Cascade Mountains, then as I turned onto I-5, looming directly in front of
me — I wish I was headed off to the mountains.  Instead I was getting
ready for a fourteen hour flight to a crowded city, with a guy looking
critically at my every move, just waiting for me to screw up. I reassured
myself that it would be fine — I was always sweating the small stuff.
In fact, I knew this `check' was coming up, which is why I had spent most
of my free time over the last several months reviewing and re-reviewing all
of the airline procedures.  I had spent extra time in the simulator — I
knew the equipment cold!  Hell, I was an excellent aviator — I was damn
good.

I then began to think about my son, Lucas.  Lucas Rafael Eirik Vidarr.  He
has growing up so quickly.  I could see his beautiful smile as he stood in
the hallway this morning, ready for his first trip to Marc's mountain home.
I had been there twice before — once when Marc had finished a beautiful
gourmet kitchen remodel (his wife, Julia, had loved so much to cook and
entertain) and the second time was for a full ten days, about seven years
ago.  Rafaela and I had our wedding anniversary and we were given quite a
surprise — as a gift, Marc and Julia gave us the mountain home, complete
with staff.  Marc and Julia took Lucas and Julianna, so it was just the two
of us — I remember how large the master suite was, with its breathtaking
views of the lake — the master suite has a huge Roman tub (in a separate
area over looking the lake, separated from the room by an etched frosted
glass partition) — essentially a separate bathroom from the main one
... it's own foyer with a large inlayed table in the center, a huge
fireplace and a king sized bed that sits up on a slightly raised platform.
The floors are inlaid semi and precious woods, which accentuate short
planked Brazilian Cherry.  The master bathroom has his and her closets,
which open into a common area; large sunken sinks, heated bathroom mirrors
and floors, a separate toilet area — with a his area and a hers area
that has a bidet — with thick, frosted glass doors for privacy — and,
a huge, multi-jet, Italian marbled shower.  The sound system is synched
with the lighting so that you can create `moods'.  There is a small living
room off in one corner where you can sit, surrounded by windows, and read
while you enjoy the `outdoors'.

The mountain home sits on a bluff, with the guest rooms (there are seven)
overlooking the mountains, another smaller master bedroom with a sitting
area, a small library, and a `servants quarters' (which is in a 3rd floor
space) — Marc and Julia had several help that would accompany them.
There is also a small cottage, which is actually a replica of a carriage
house, near the lake — this has a master bedroom, two smaller guest
rooms, a small kitchen, living room and dining room.  The main house has a
huge movie room, with lush seats and Dolby sound system in the basement
area next to a a custom gym, complete with sauna and hot tub, and a full
service laundry with dry cleaning capability.  There is a solarium off the
2nd floor, accessible by a copper spiral staircase, above the master suite,
which gives beautiful views of Mt Shuksan and the lake.  Every room has its
own thermal control, so your are never warm in the summer or cold in the
winter.  Copper piping under the floors provides a floor heating system
that is synced with the room temperature controls (so when the heats on,
the floor also is warmed — hell, you can even have presets that sync
with your alarm clock!). Each of the guest rooms has its own sound system
and crystal clear flat screen TV's; each has its own bathroom — the
cottage has the same accoutrements.

So, when Marc said that we should do a `boy's week' at the mountain home —
I jumped on it.  Well, that was six months ago.  In the interim, I picked
up more trips (moving up the ladder), and Lucas started devoting more time
to hockey (in addition to a full load of swimming).  Marc, obviously,
didn't have to work, but he had his hands full with Jesse.  His youngest
was olympic-quality ski material, in addition to being an accomplished
swimmer; he had a well-known ski coach that wanted him to spend time in
Colorado and Switzerland.  So between ski camps, swim meets, and
consulting, Marc had a busy time.  It was Marc who had been planning with
Lucas, though, and it was decided that we would have our `boy's week'
sooner than later.  Marc had to know that it would be iffy for me to be
there, at least for this week, but, after seeing how Lucas pleaded and
after Marc convinced me that it wouldn't be an imposition, I said OK.
Lucas wanted the whole week (actually I know he wanted more) — I
couldn't say no.  As I passed the City, headed toward SEA-TAC, I thought
about Marc and Lucas.

I bet they were having a total blast ...