Date: Sat, 16 Sep 2006 19:20:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brads Idol  Chapter Twelve

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 Twelve: Brad's Idol


Part of my summer was spent helping Uncle Ray rehab the first unit.  His
habit was to rework the first unit himself then bring in contractors for
the rest.  The reasoning behind this was he learned a lot about the
building and problems the contractors would likely face with the rest of
the units.  This let him have a pretty good idea when someone was trying to
rip him off.  Before starting on this building though he brought in a
contractor that specialized in moving houses.  When I asked why he said
these guys were the most experienced at lifting a building off the existing
foundation and then resetting it level on a new foundation.  This building
had foundation issues in the rear corner.

Uncle Ray stood in the rear apartment and set a marble on the floor.  The
marble rolled to the back corner of the building.  He went into each room
and did this.  Each time the marble rolled in the same direction.  The
farther we got from the corner though the slower the marble rolled.  We
went through every room in every apartment on the ground floor doing this.
Each time the marble rolled towards the same point.  Uncle Ray said this
was good because if there had been another area where the foundation was
giving out that area should be lower than the rest of the building and the
marble would roll to the lowest point.  As it was, the marble always rolled
towards the same point, meaning there was only one area to be concerned
with.  The contractors came in and replaced part of the joists in the rear
corner; we had a level building.  It was timed so the leveling was
completed during the time we spent selling the surplus at the flea market.

Which unit did we redo ourselves?  The one with the sinking corner, of
course.  This also happened to be one of the units in the worst condition.
A major issue was the walls; several had cracked due to the settling
problem.  Today, cracked walls are not a major issue.  If it is a large
crack simply cut out a section of dry wall and insert new.  A little
sanding and new paint and no one will realize there was a repair.
Buildings constructed during the first half of the twentieth century did
not use drywall, it hadn't been developed.  This building's walls were
plaster over wood lathing, and that is what I learned how to repair.
However, before making any of these repairs we had to remove the walls
previous owners added to chop up the units.

The unit was originally designed as a one bedroom one bath apartment with
approximately seven hundred and ninety square feet.  Entering the front
door you walked down an entry foyer about four feet wide and eight feet
long.  Near the end on the left was a door to a large closet measuring
eight by eight, and containing a Murphy bed.  For those not familiar with a
Murphy bed they were three-quarter beds that folded up against the wall
when not in use and were found primarily in studio or efficiency units.  On
the other side of the closet was the kitchen measuring eight by twelve.
The kitchen had one of the old fashion ironing boards that folded into the
wall.  The kitchen was accessed through French doors in the living/dining
room area that should measure twelve by twenty-four.  The trick here is
someone had added two walls to the area creating an extra bedroom.  What
was intended as a dining area became the new living room area.  My job,
under Uncle Ray's supervision, was to remove the two extra walls and find
the original room.

Work attire consisted of an old pair of jeans, work boots compliments of
Uncle Ray and K-Mart and goggles.  I didn't bother with a shirt and
declined the face mask offered by Uncle Ray -- only sissies used those.  I
thought this would be fun, just swinging away with a big hammer like I had
seen them do on television.  That's not the way it's done.  If you just
swing away, chances are you will do more harm than good.  Rather than tear
down, we dismantled.  First the baseboards, then the door facings; when the
door facings came down a pry bar was used to break the drywall panels
loose.  They didn't all come down in one piece, but they did come down with
minimal impact on the original materials.  The worst part of all this was
hauling the trash out to the skid in the back yard.  It didn't take long
for my nice Florida tan to be replaced with a solid coat of light mousey
gray dust.  After doing this all day Uncle Ray wouldn't let me walk in the
house.  I had to strip outside and get hosed off, then head straight for
the tub.

The next room to tackle was the kitchen. We pulled up at least five layers
of linoleum before finding the original wood floor.  We then removed all
cabinet doors and the countertops.  The countertops were tiled and looked
like they would be easy.  Who ever did this formed the top in place and
poured concrete in the form and then set the tile in that.  This really
became hard work.  The tiles wee not going to come out.  We broke the top
in sections and removed it that way.  An electrician and plumber were
brought in to setup the kitchen to accept a garbage disposal and dish
washer.  A finishing man made new cabinet doors with glass inserts,
installed new formica countertops and laid tile on the floor.  With paint
and appliances you had a modernized kitchen.

After the living/dining area was opened we proceeded down the hall that was
about six feet long.  On one side was the bathroom, and on the other built
in closet and drawers.  Behind this built-in unit was the walk-in closet
for the bedroom.  Uncle Ray said this was a dressing area.  The bathroom
floor was finished in small black and white tiles set in a checker board
pattern.  The tub was an old footed unit that he had refinished along with
the toilet and pedestal sink.  The floor required minor grout repair and
with new sconce lights and accessories, the bath was ready.  The major
issues in the bedroom were two walls were cracked and the trigger switch in
the door jam for the walk-in closet didn't work.  The switch was easy to
replace thanks to a local hardware store that specialized in keeping parts
for these old units.

Repairing the walls was to be the big item for me.  I had seen workers use
spackling or putty to fill holes, let it dry and paint over.  That is not
what you do with plaster.  The plaster is held in place by clinging to the
lathing strips tacked to the studs.  If you just smear spackling or even
plaster over the hole it leaves an air gap between the surface and lathing.
As the plaster dries it will shrink in and create another crack.  The trick
to repairing plaster is to build up the repair from the inside out.  Spoon
in a little plaster and let it sit and dry.  Then spoon in a little more,
repeating the process until the surface is even with the surrounding wall.
One nice thing about this process is most walls were not smooth but had a
rough finish.  This allowed the repair to blend in more easily.

When originally constructed the woodwork in this building was stained, not
painted.  Now, some units remained stained and some were painted.  Uncle
Ray said it wasn't worth the effort to strip the paint and restain, but
where the stain remained he tried to refurbish the finish.  After removing
the door knobs from all doors and pulls from the dressing room built-in, we
used fine sand paper to remove some of the worse blemishes on the doors,
door frames and the built in.  After sanding we washed them down with
mineral spirits.  The baseboards and window frames were painted.  Uncle Ray
said he would normally do the paint and stain work himself but decided to
bring in a contractor so we could have more time together.

The unit was painted a neutral color and a clear coat painted on the
stained wood.  The original wood floors were sanded and sealed with
polyurethane.  Carpeting was added in the living/dining area with a simple
chandelier over the eating area.  Shades with sheer curtains, a ceiling fan
in the bedroom, window air-conditioning unit and replica door knobs and
pulls completed the project.  Looking at the before and after photos, you
would never believe it was the same unit.

As I said, finishing contractors were used more than normal so he and I
could have our time together.  I didn't mind working on the old building;
in fact, I enjoyed it.  What made it even more enjoyable was I worked with
him and got real dirty with him.  This was something shared by only the two
of us -- that made it extra special.  I spent eight of my eleven weeks
vacation with Uncle Ray that summer; of course, for six of those weeks I
was in school.  We did take time to ride our bikes and go to a movie once
in a while.  There were also trips to the beach, a couple of parties and a
car show

I think I hit the beach at the club about four or five times that summer
without Uncle Ray; I was with Aunt Charlotte, Uncle Ray's next door
neighbor.  She didn't have any children of her own and doted over me like
you wouldn't believe.  I knew she loved me in her own way, I also knew she
loved her orange juice and bourbon because you rarely saw her without it.
I had outgrown my swim suit from last summer, but that was easy to cure
with a quick trip to the mall.  She liked to get there about an hour before
lunch to stroll along the beach.  We would then go to the outdoor café and
always ordered a club sandwich for each of us.  I drank the bottomless coke
and she had the oj and b.

Of course, during lunch there is no way you could keep count of how many
people stop by to say hello, good to see you, how are you, etc.  It was
always interesting most of them remembered me and my name and many of them
I would swear I had never seen in my life, but I did smile and return the
greetings as taught.  After lunch it was another short stroll on the beach
and then she would settle into one of the hooded lounge chairs.  I would
take off my shirt and give to her, and make a bee line for the water. There
were always lots of kids thee my age to play with and sometimes I had my
boogie board.  If some of the kids didn't have one we shared mine.  Around
mid-afternoon Aunt Charlotte would let me know it was almost time to go so
we could beat the traffic.  This was my signal to head to the men's
dressing room and change to fresh shorts and shirt.  I wonder what she
would say if she knew that I always went commando when I changed.

A short nap was not unusual for me on the way home.  Somehow, the fresh air
and sea can really make you relax.  When we got home I always had a smile
with a big thanks for a great time, and wore a slight sunburn that quickly
tanned out.  Uncle Ray may or may not be home.  This summer, if he wasn't
home I sometimes pulled meat out of the freezer to thaw and we would grill
our supper.  After eating it was always bath time, a ritual we repeated
more times than I can venture a guess on.  I'd plop in his lap handing him
the towel, he dried me and I settled back against him, contented.

Uncle Ray and I hit the beach both at the club and the state park.  He
didn't walk around as much as Aunt Charlotte and would go in the water with
me.  It was fun when he had me curl up in a ball, then he'd picked me up
and threw me out over the waves.  I always went under and got salt water in
my mouth because I was giggling so hard.  If there were other boys out
there for me to play with he would tell me to go play while he sat on the
lounger and took a nap.  Sometimes he did nap and sometimes he didn't.

We hit the beach at the state park only once as I recall.  This time there
was no scene of any extra activity.  I had my boogie board and he had a
book.  We stayed most of the morning and into the early afternoon.  A
cooler was packed with drinks and those cheese and peanut butter crackers
you buy.  When it was time to leave I headed to the shower to rinse off.
Uncle Ray told me to keep my pants on this time in the outside shower.
There wasn't anybody around so I didn't see why it should be such a big
deal, but did as I was told.  He followed me and used a garden hose to run
water down my butt and get the sand out of my crack.  I didn't change
clothes with him because we were in his truck and couldn't harm the vinyl
seats.  As usual, I napped on the way home and was ready to play when we
got there.

We were invited to an early evening party at Patty's.  I don't remember her
last name and am not sure she ever told me -- it's always been Patty.  Her
husband is one of Uncle Ray's clients.  Patty is what they called 'old
line'; her ancestors were some of the original settlers of the city.  She
was the third generation owner of the beach house.  When I heard about the
invitation I thought it sounded like fun and no problem, I had new jeans
and clean sneakers and shirts for the occasion.  Uncle Ray said I was old
enough now it was time to take a step up; we went shopping.

I attended the party wearing white dockers with a brown belt and loafers.
The shirt was jade green button down with the top three buttons left
unfastened, the cuff of each sleeve was rolled up twice, and I wore my
Cherokee choker.  The choker became a big topic of conversation
particularly when we talked about white water rafting and the Indians
themselves.  There were three other boys at the party that allowed peer
company for me and we all dressed similarly except the youngest who was two
years younger than me.  He was dressed like I had dressed the previous
year.

This particular party was especially memorable for Uncle Ray.  He enjoyed
drinking a White Russian.  If you aren't familiar with the drink it's a
little vodka, with some coffee liqueur (usually Kahlua) and a little cream
or milk.  Well, whoever made these had no idea what they were doing.  We
think they made it with a lot of vodka, a little Kahlua and a little cream.
However she did it, after two of these Uncle Ray was completely out of it.
To say he put a scare in more than one of us would be an understatement.
When he realized something might be wrong he said he needed to get some
fresh air, hoping this would help clear his head.  The house is on the
ocean, the yard being bounded by the sea wall.  He walked out there, Aunt
Charlotte and I followed; he took one step on the sea wall and fell
backwards stiff as a board.  You could not only see but hear his head
bounce off the wall.

Aunt Charlotte was shocked and I was almost in tears.  No one ever
understood how he could bounce like that without at least cutting himself,
but he didn't.  The ladies spent the next three hours alternating holding
his head in their lap while he slept it off on a bench Patty had in the
yard.  When he woke up and came inside he was famished and probably the
only sober person there.  I don't think he's had a White Russian since
then.  I do remember how frightened I was and seeing him passed out on the
ground, naturally assumed the worst.  I have never let him forget it.

The car show was at Sea Island, and we were taking Reginald.  The day
before we left I got up without even bothering to put any clothes on and
headed out the back door.  If you are not familiar with the size of a 1932
Rolls I'll tell you the running board sits about fifteen inches above the
ground and its another ten inches to step up inside.  Once inside I could
just about stand straight up without touching the roof.  These were big
boxy cars designed for pure comfort; at least for the passengers.  This was
a town car meaning it had a chauffeur's compartment up front with a
removable cloth cover.  I don't think Uncle Ray ever put the cover on.  I
used a ladder to climb on top and clean the car.  This needed to be done
early before the sun made the top hot and it burned my little butt while I
cleaned.  After cleaning the whole outside of the car, I had the
'privilege' as Uncle Ray would say of crawling under the car and doing the
same thing.

We borrowed a towing trailer from a friend of Uncle Ray's and hauled the
car to Sea Island.  I wanted to drive it up, that would really be cool, but
if we did Uncle Ray said I had to clean it again top and underneath;
besides, the truck was air-conditioned.  He packed all kinds of clothes for
me, I thought enough for at least a week and we were to be gone only three
days.  I had everything from cutoffs and jeans to the dockers plus now a
navy blue blazer that I was to wear to dinner.  I decided that living like
this sure was a lot of work.  I still didn't see why cutoffs didn't work
everywhere.  Of course, he was teaching me to function within a certain
social and economic realm that could benefit me when I was grown.  The
resort was on the beach, there were plenty of kids around my age suffering
through the same, I had my boogie board, and we all had a good time.  There
was even a small reception designed just for the kids to get to know one
another.

We stayed at the resort, of course, and the room was big and plush.  I
liked the idea of a fully stocked refrigerator in the room, fully stocked
included candy bars.  When Uncle Ray saw the candy I was restricted to two
per day.  The bed was king size.  When we went to bed rather than spooning
into him as usual I would always find a little extra energy and start
bouncing; more than once I'd bounce and land on top of him.  He'd grab me
and try to hold me down so I'd fall asleep, but I played possum and then
bounced some more.  He told me once that if I didn't settle down he was
going to make me wear pajamas.  He said he'd put the top on me like a
straight jacket, button it all the way up and use the arms to tie me to the
bed.  I was too young to realize that would never work and decided to
settle down.  Before I settle too far though I pulled out the baby powder
which led to more fun anyway.

The last party was at Patty's home in the city, and what a home it was.
Located on the river, there was a cabana, a pool with no fencing, you could
see downtown and all kinds of traffic on the river; there was also a nice
cabin cruiser, but we didn't use that.  The same boys wee there as at the
last party at the beach; one was Patty's grandson and the other two
nephews.  We changed into our swimsuits in the cabaña and spent most of our
time in the pool.  Someone was always coming out to check on us and ask if
we needed anything.  Shortly before dinner we had to get out and dress.
Funny, we were all wearing just about the same thing except for my raw ruby
necklace.  I left the top three buttons of my shirt unfastened as Uncle Ray
said and rolled the cuffs up twice.  When we went inside I couldn't believe
the attention I got from the ladies.  More than one even said I looked sexy
with my shirt like that and the necklace.  I dutifully blushed and soaked
in all I could.

Before we attended any of these events Uncle Ray always wanted to make sure
I remembered my 'guest' manners and etiquette.  When the other boys came to
the table they just sat down.  I stood behind my chair next to Uncle Ray
who was also standing.  As a lady came to the table near us we pulled out
her chair.  After all the ladies were seated and our host and hostess were
at the table, we sat with them.  As always it was a great dinner where
everyone eats more than they should.  As always, it was just adult talk.
Patty said something about she should have had all the boys sitting
together, and that might have meant more fun for us but most likely more
noise for them to contend with.  Since we weren't talking much, the boys
finished first and we just sat there trying not to look too bored.  Patty
then suggested we could be excused to go outside and they would call us for
desert or serve us on the patio.  We opted for the patio service.

After desert, Patty's husband came out to collect our dishes and check on
us.  The adults were inside doing whatever it is adults do at this kind of
thing, while we were sitting in a chair swinging our legs and not saying a
whole lot.  He came up with a great idea that he said was okay for the
other boys and wanted to ask Uncle Ray if it was okay for me.  I assured
him Uncle Ray wouldn't object, but knew he would ask anyway.  It was dark
outside by now.  You could see the city skyline all lit up and occasionally
see marker lights on a passing boat.  We were wide open and went skinny
dipping.  There was a great diving board on the pool and although we were
supposed to keep it down to a low roar, I'm sure people several houses away
could hear us laughing.  He pulled the drapes closed to give us privacy and
we spent the rest of the evening naked in the pool -- wow!

Now, the part I didn't know at the time was he did go ask Uncle Ray, who of
course said it was no problem.  However, Aunt Charlotte was standing there
and heard him.  Before Uncle Ray could answer she came out with "Care?
Hell, that boy runs around in Ray's back yard naked all the time.  I saw
him sitting on top of the car the other day washing it, and didn't have a
stitch on."  If I had heard this I would have died of embarrassment.  As it
was not even Uncle Ray said anything to me.  It was several months later
that I heard about it from one of the nephews when we were at the club.  I
did ask Uncle Ray if she really said that and he said she did.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I tell you?  One, it was the truth; two, it was nothing to be
ashamed of; and, three, I didn't want you becoming paranoid about it."

"What's paranoid?"

"It means I didn't want you to walk outside naked and then be afraid
someone might see you so you wouldn't do what normally made you happy.  Do
you remember me saying from the beginning I wanted you to do what was
comfortable for you and if it wasn't then there would be that little voice
telling you not to do it?  I didn't want someone else being that little
voice unnecessarily."

"Oh, okay.  Well I've done it many times since then so I guess she doesn't
care.  If she's seen me naked now, no since in hiding, right?"  he just
grinned and I blushed.


During this summer I felt things had changed somehow between me and Uncle
Ray.  I don't mean changed in a bad way, but it was different than it had
been before.  Of course, in the beginning, everything was new and exciting
to me.  Now, I felt more at ease with myself and with him.  I always felt
secure but would sometimes not be sure if it was okay to ask him things.
Now, I knew I could ask him anything and tell him anything and it would be
okay.  If what I said or did was wrong he would just tell me and explain
why.  When I asked him why he explained and other people usually didn't,
except for a 'cause I said so' he explained that isn't how I should learn.
If I didn't understand what the mistake was and why, how was I to avoid it
in the future.  Only by explaining did I get a point of reference from
which to reason things out.

The feeling of comfort and security also made me bolder with what I both
wanted to do with him and wanted from him.  In the beginning I would sit in
his lap making sure I got at least part of my butt in the palm of his
hand. If I wanted him to scratch my butt I would wiggle it a little for him
to get the message.  Now, I just settled in and would whisper for him to
scratch my butt.  This same comfort zone allowed me to let him know when I
thought it was play time or 'horny toad' time.  One night I was in that
playing mood and straddled his lap wrapping my arms around his neck I began
to nibble on his ear.  He always played and made me feel good, I wanted to
do something for him, but he stopped me.

"Whoa, kiddo.... Let's take a step back here."  I looked at him
questioningly, why did we need to go backwards?  He placed his hands on the
side of my chest and pushed me back to rest against his thighs; he had
propped his feet on the coffee table allowing his knees to come up and form
a back rest for me.  As we sat there and talked he rested his hands across
my stomach and chest.  I rested my hands on top of his, occasionally
running my fingers up and down his hairy arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Brad, do you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah, I know.  You play with me and I just wanted to play with you some
and make you feel good, too."

"Do you remember when you first started staying with me and I told you I
would let you do anything you wanted to explore and experience things with
your body?"  I just nodded and tears began to well up in my eyes, but I
don't know why.  "Do you also remember I said that if I thought doing this
might confuse you that we would have to stop?"

"Yeah....but I'm not confused.  Why would I be?"

"The idea, son, was for you to experience the joys you can get from
yourself, not for me to experience what you can do to me."

"But, why can't I feel good by playing with you to make you feel good?
Don't you like it when you play with me and make me feel good?  What's the
difference?"

"Brad, have you ever heard your friends at school call someone else queer,
or a fag, or gay?  Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, they do it all the time to every body. No body has ever called me
that, they just do it to people they don't like.  They're sayin' that
they're boys who like boys and not girls."

"Well, that's pretty close. Let me ask you this, do you ever see any boys
or friends at university and think you might want to play with them the
same way I play with you?"

"No way!  That's different.  You're Uncle Ray and I love you, and I love my
dad too, but I wouldn't think of playin' with him like we do -- he'd beat
my butt.  It's different and I don't know how to explain it.  With you, I
can do what I want and not worry about anything; I can't do that anywhere
else.  You said we could play as long as I wasn't confused, but now, you're
making me confused.  How come before you said I could do anything if I
wanted to and it felt good and now you say no?"

"Slow down, kiddo.  The same rule still applies, if you're comfortable and
it feels good I won't say anything unless I think you're about to do
something that could hurt you.  You started doing something we hadn't done
before and I needed to be sure you understood and were okay with it, that's
all."

I didn't say anymore, but reached up and put my arms around his neck to
give him a big hug.  He had his hands on my butt which I wiggled a little
and he began to scratch me there.  I turned my head into his neck and gave
him a squeeze and a kiss, he squeezed back.  This was my comfort zone and I
knew we would both feel good that night and always with one another -- we
would always have this special relationship that I could never really
describe.



What I didn't know at this time was that while Uncle Ray and I were getting
even closer together, my dad was back at university turning my world upside
down again.


End Chapter Twelve

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