Date: Mon, 11 Sep 2006 16:37:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brads Idol  Chapter Eleven

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.



Chapter Eleven:  Brad's Idol



My stay with Uncle Ray was timed with the school lessons at the training
center.  Another consideration had to be for the time my grandma and aunt
were accustomed to getting with me during the summer.  One of the
advantages I had with them was that I was the only grandson.  Anyone who
has ever been in that position can tell you it has major advantages.  One
of the biggest advantages being the aunt and grandma forget how to say 'no'
to just about anything you ask for.  This year they took me on a cruise.

Cruise ships are notorious for many things, not the least of which is how
often and how much you can eat.  The amount of food and the taste is
something you have to experience.  Well, any time food was out, I was there
to consume and neither my grandma nor my aunt ever said 'no', not even a
slow down.  I don't know how much weight I put on, but I do know my pants
were considerably tighter when we got back.  A fact that neither my dad nor
Uncle Ray was very happy about.

Dad came down for a brief visit.  He said he didn't get to see his mother
often enough and he wasn't going to ruin the visit by fussing.  However, he
did let it be known his mother and aunt were going to have to learn a
simple monosyllabic word for the future.  Dad was there about three days
when we left for Uncle Ray's.  When we arrived he told Uncle Ray that the
extra padding was something he would have to deal with since I was staying
there.

When Uncle Ray saw me the look on his face said part of this trip wasn't
going to be a lot of fun, and I was right.  Three blocks down the street
was a middle school with a track out back.  Every morning and every evening
I had the 'privilege' of acquainting myself with that track.  We started
with one lap each trip and quickly worked up to four laps or one mile.
This twice a day plus no sweets or fatty foods quickly eliminated any
excess padding.  Getting rid of the padding may not have been a lot of fun,
but it wasn't really that bad either; I just let them think I was suffering
in case they thought they could add more.  However, I do remember how I got
the extra padding and it was fun.

While I was out padding up, Uncle Ray was investing; he bought another
apartment building.  When we arrived, he took Dad and me over for a look
see.  What a dump!  Uncle Ray liked to acquire pre-Depression Era apartment
buildings and then do a combination rehab-restoration project with them.
Many of the old buildings were constructed with high ceilings and large
rooms.  As the neighborhoods would begin to age and deteriorate, landlords
would divide the rooms, making a one-bedroom unit into a two-bedroom unit
and so on.  This particular building had really been chopped up.

When you entered the front door the hallways were stacked with junk and
sometimes garbage.  The first thing that hit you was the smell.  Every unit
had walls added to create the extra rooms.  The bathrooms were original as
evidence by the wear on the finish for the floor, sinks and tubs.  Unit
that had the toilets replaced appeared to be rigged to accept a smaller and
more modern unit.  As you walked down the hall there was a sensation of
dropping. The sensation was real because the back corner of the building
had dropped due to structural issues.  This building was to be the summer
project.  If completed correctly, once rented out the cash flow would give
an appraisal sufficient to let Uncle Ray cash out and still own the
building and tax advantages.  At the time I had no idea what this meant but
would learn in due course.

After closing on the purchase, the first step was to empty the building.
Uncle Ray sent every tenant a notice to vacate due to pending renovations.
Part of the purchase process was to verify security deposits and rent to
verify how much each person paid.  He gave them a half-month free rent and
a full refund on their deposits to avoid any hassles down the line.  The
next step was to set off bug bombs.  Nothing is nastier than cleaning out
someone else's junk and having little creepy crawlies come out after you-
God, how I hated that.  With everyone gone, the fun part began; determining
what was left and what to do with it.  This became my first lesson in
business.

Tenants love to leave their junk behind for the landlord to deal with.  The
landlord's problem is to determine what was left to be thrown out and what
was left through error.  Error could be a roommate or spouse who was not
aware of the move, this is particularly true if the spouse is military and
did not get personal notice.  Uncle Ray's habit was to rent a storage unit
for the short term, placing everything not obviously left for trash in
storage.  Tenants were allowed thirty days to claim anything stored or it
was assumed to be abandoned.  My first job was to determine what was trash
and then figure out what to do with the stuff in storage.  The ultimate
goal was to turn stored goods into cash.  Of course, all this work had to
be done around the summer school schedule.

Summer school was four days each week.  Class began at nine and was over
around one.  Either Uncle Ray or someone from his office picked me up each
day for the ride to his office.  On the way we stopped and picked up a
hamburger or sandwich for lunch.  If there was home work to be completed,
and there was most days, it was done while at his office.  If I failed to
do the homework or keep up with the class, then fun time for the weekend
was cancelled.  What was fun time?  Mostly working on the newly acquired
building.  Again, my job was to figure out what to do with the stuff placed
in storage.  The solution came on the ride from school to the office one
day.

When we got to the office I couldn't wait to find Uncle Ray and tell him
about my idea -- I thought it was brilliant.  Naturally, he had to be in a
closing and I had to wait.  That's okay, I just took my books into his
office and made myself at home to finish my school work.  After all, he had
the conference room I normally used for this.  The ulterior motive was for
him to see how good I was being about getting my work done; it's called
getting brownie points.  When he got out of the closing and came into his
office I excitedly told him about my idea.  We could sell the stored stuff
at a flea market and make lots of money.  I figured I had him when I saw
the smile come across his face, then he popped my bubble.

"Sounds like a good idea.  How much do you think you can get for all that
stuff?  Remember used goods in a flea market don't sell for nearly what
they are new or what they get in a used furniture store.  You also need to
know the cost of a space; should it be inside or outside.  Is there a
location more advantageous than others?"

"Uncle Ray, I had a great idea and you're blowing it."

"I agree, you have a good idea.  What I'm trying to tell you is to follow
through with the details.  It's all a part of business.  I said you could
have the money from the stuff if you could figure out how to convert the
stuff to cash.  Now, what would you do if it costs more to convert to cash
than you will get from the sale?  Who will pay out the losses?  Again you
have a good idea, and I'll tell you I think you're on the right track.  You
just need to follow through.  Now, I'm really going to pop your bubble.
Before you can do any of the follow through, what do you need to do?"

"I know, homework."  He gave me a thumbs up sign and I moved to the
conference room.  Boy, you want to talk about a let down.  I thought he
would pick me up, squeeze me and tell me what a great idea I had.  He did
say it was a good idea, but then he added all that other stuff.  Well, I
decided I was going to work on it, isn't that what he really wanted me to
do?  Thinking about my new project some how made it all the more difficult
to get my homework completed, but I knew it had to be done, and it was.

That night at home we did what I enjoyed the most.  You may think it was to
lay across his lap for a powder massage or to straddle him and flop
backwards.  Those were all nice and fun, but my favorite thing was to just
sit in his lap and lean against him.  How do you describe the comfort that
comes from feeling warm flesh against your body.  He was warm and secure
and strong enough to show both.  Usually he would sit there and just
scratch the side of my hip.  If I wanted more, he didn't hesitate to give
it to me.  I had learned not to be afraid to let him know if I wanted him
to scratch my butt, or tickle my crack, or massage my nuts.  Sometimes I
would say it, other times I just put his hand where I wanted it.

I loved to sit there leaning back against him and feel the soft hair
rubbing against my back.  Sometimes I would deliberately shift around just
to feel him rubbing against me.  Laying my head on his shoulder I could
look up into his face or look out and watch the television.  Occasionally,
I would reach up and outline his jaw or chin with my finger and rub the
back of my fingers against his neck or chin, feeling the slight stubble
from his beard.  If it was a night where I wanted lots of contact and play
I knew I could ask him to shave so his beard didn't scratch too much, and
that would be his clue for fun time.  There was something special that I've
never been able to describe in words about being able to reach back and run
my fingers through his hair and feel it slip between my fingers as I pulled
out.  These were the nights I was most relaxed and I hold as part of my
fondest memories.

The next day one of Uncle Ray's employees, Mary, picked me up from the
center.  As we approached the flea market I asked her to stop so I could
get some information.  She had a puzzled look on her face but stopped
anyway.  I went to the office and explained to the man at the desk who I
was and what I wanted to do.  He let me know they would require Uncle Ray's
signature and him being responsible.  The man gave me a packet of papers to
complete for the rental and even had some flyers that showed what people
were asking for similar goods.  This made for my next big lesson.

When selling similar goods as a competitor who is near you, how do you get
people to buy from you rather than him?  The answer is simple, cut his
price.  Uncle Ray showed me how to compute what my costs should be.  Then,
using the samples the man at the flea market gave me, we guessed what we
would sell the goods for and hoped for a profit.  Of course, the figures
showed we should be able to get a good profit.  If I was going to do this
then I had to pay for the booth at the flea market plus the cost of
storage.  Labor, truck and gas were compliments of Uncle Ray.

The booth at the flea market was rented for two weekends.  Now, not all of
the stuff removed from the apartments was sold.  We disposed of clothes and
mattresses and box springs left behind.  Who would want to sleep on a
mattress you had no idea what it had been used for?  We did have tables,
lamps, chairs, sofas, and refrigerators.  The refrigerators of course were
not really left behind, but Uncle Ray said to sell them because he was
getting new ones.  Well, towards the end of the last day on the second
weekend we didn't have a whole lot left.  When we totaled up what we could
get for it and what it would cost to rent the booth for one more weekend
plus pay another month's storage, we offered the balance to the guy in the
next booth for ten bucks.  He bought the goods and we were out.  After
deducting the costs, we made over five hundred dollars.  I gave the money
to Uncle Ray who gave it back and told me it was my venture, so the money
was mine.  I thought I was rich.  I treated us to supper out that night,
spent some on clothes and kept a little as mad money; the balance was put
away for future investing.  I don't remember what I spent the mad money on
but I'm sure it was frivolous, that's what mad money is for.  I do remember
that night though.

We were both a dirty mess so we just washed our face and hands at the
market and headed for the barbeque place.  We had ribs with all the fixings
and headed for home.  As usual he ran a tub of warm water and stepped in
and a few minutes later I was there.  Naturally, I sat down and let him
bathe me.  When he ran a soapy finger through my crack and over my treasure
hole, I shivered.  Then he did it again; it felt good.  I knew then I
didn't want this to be a regular night.  He got out and I stayed in to play
some but asked him if we could play when I got out.  When he asked what I
wanted to play I just gave him that smile again.

When I got out of the tub I grabbed a towel and headed for the living room
and Uncle Ray.  I climbed up on his lap, straddling him, and handed him the
towel. He acted like he didn't know I was there (fat chance!) so I just
leaned over and gave him a big raspberry on the side of the neck.  He
laughed and started rubbing me down with the towel, I leaned against him,
feeling content.  His heart beat steadily against my chest, a steady rhythm
that could calm any soul; but, I didn't want that this night.

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him the biggest and loudest raspberry
I knew how.  Many more followed as I looked up and whispered into his ear
"horny toad".  He grabbed a handful of hair and, pulling my head back,
started giving me raspberries all over my neck; first one side and then the
other.  I couldn't stop screaming with delight.

"Ohhhh Gaaaahhhhhhdd Uncle Ray, aaaahhhhhh....aaaaaahhhhh...AAAAHHHHHH.
more...do more....pleeeeasse ..... ohhhhh shiiit, moooore .... AAAAAHHHHHHH...
harder...harder Uncle Ray...harder..." I panted and spoke gibberish.

While driving me nuts with raspberries he somehow managed to get spittle on
my nips and was now trying to rip them off and I loved every moment of it.
He pushed me back and started moving down my chest.  I nearly jumped out of
my skin when he placed his mouth over my nip and began sucking and tonguing
at it.  Then he moved from one side to the other. As he began moving down
my stomach I grabbed two handfuls of hair and moved him back to work on my
nips some more, god it felt good.

"Mooore Uncle Ray ..... do it some moore....ohhhh, that feels
good...aaaaahhhhh.."

At what point I lost it I don't remember.  I do remember his fingers and
nails moving up and down my back, not gently but with force.  They moved up
and down my back, over my cheeks, through the crack, and over the back and
inside of my thighs.  With one hand supporting my back he pushed me back
and started giving me raspberries in my belly button while the other hand
reached down and grabbed my balls, gently squeezing them.  I was going
absolutely ape.  He was doing too much too fast, but not enough fast
enough.  I was bumping and jumping everywhere trying to let him have all of
me at one time.

I came back to reality lying on my side facing him.  We were both covered
in sweat and more.  I lay there with my head on his arm with his other arm
wrapped around me.  Both my arms were wrapped around his neck and chest.  I
pulled myself as close as I could and squirmed in all the wetness.  He lay
there holding me telling me to just lay there and rest...slow down.  I could
lay there forever and always be happy.

Eventually we did get up and he carried me into the bathroom.  We stood in
the tub for a quick rinse.  When we dried off he picked me up and carried
me to the bed.  Again, I spooned against him wanting to feel as much of him
as I could.  My head on his arm as a pillow, my hand holding his to my
chest, I slipped into a deep and restful sleep.


End Ch Eleven

To Be Continued: comments welcome; contact Dwight Wilson @adm2780@yahoo.com