Date: Tue, 20 Feb 2007 15:54:42 -0800 (PST)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brads Idol  Chapter Thirty-Eight

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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.

NOTE: Special thanks to Greg for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Greg's assistance contributes substantially to a
more enjoyable story.


Chapter Thirty-Eight:  Brad's Idol


English class was almost over.  Talk about time moving at a snail's pace.
Two more classes and we were out for Spring break.  Nobody said anything to
me since that quick trip to see the eye doctor, so I assumed nothing would
happen for a while.  I thought they might mess up my vacation, but Dad said
Uncle Ray was out of town the first weekend I was off.  Larry and Laura
were headed to see their dad in Miami for three days.  Dad said when they
got back, Larry and me might be headed to Uncle Ray's.  With so many
'maybes' and 'mights' the only thing for certain was we didn't have any
'for certain' plans for the break.  While I sat there thinking about all
this a call came for me to report to the Dean of Boys immediately.  What'd
I do?

I can't say that I ran to his office.  The dean was also the gym teacher;
we called him 'coach'.  He was big and strong.  He also had a paddle he
called the board of education.  I'd never been introduced, and didn't want
to be.  It was a long, slow walk.  I couldn't figure out what I might have
done to get called in by him.  I got a surprise when I walked in.

"Da-ad, what are you doin' here?"

"Don't sound so excited.  I could leave you here for the rest of the day,"
He answered, smiling and sounding like he thought that was funny.

"No.  I don't wanna stay here.  But, you didn't say you was pickin' me up."

"It's a surprise.  Kathy and I talked about it and decided that having a
kid around that's about to be a teenager is a pain.  We've decided to trade
you in.  We got a good deal, too.  You and Larry for a really cute puppy."
His 'this is funny' tone kept coming out.  The lady behind the desk seemed
to be enjoying this and then the coach came out.

"Brad," coach began, "Your dad and I decided you could turn out to be
trouble.  I offered to introduce you to the board.  At first, he thought
that was a good idea.  Then he decided it would be easier on all of us if
he traded you in.  Been nice knowin' you, kid."  I thought this guy had to
be full of it, but I wasn't about to say anything.  I smiled and took the
kidding, then I got out.

"Dad, really, what's goin' on?"

"We're headed south.  Time for a little trip."

"But, I don't have any clothes.  What trip?  Where we goin'?"  I had all
kinds of questions and wasn't getting any real answers.

"Your bag is in the back seat," He told me.  I turned around to open the
bag and see what was in there, but he stopped me.  "Stay where you are.  If
you want something that's not in there, it's too late now.  We have to go
to West Palm and I may have to set a couple of speed records to make it on
time.  Turn around, sit down and buckle up."

I didn't say anything else right away.  He was trying to concentrate on
where we were going and traffic was a little heavy.  He was also a little
impatient.  It was easy to tell with him because everybody that got in his
way he called an 'idiot' or a 'stupid fuck'.  When this started I knew to
just sit there.  When we finally got on the highway, he pushed his speed
up, turned on the radio and lit a cigarette.  Now it was okay to talk.

"Da-ad, what's in West Palm?  Why're we goin' there?"  I was still asking
the same questions and not getting any answers.

"You, my son, are going to be what is termed an 'umt'.  In simple terms
that stands for unaccompanied minor traveling; sometimes known as minor
traveling unaccompanied."

"Huh?"  My dad loved talking in these strange terms that he understood and
kept me in the dark.  This had been going on for years.  It was his private
little game.

"You're going to see Ray.  There's a ticket waiting for you at the West
Palm airport.  Right now we're running late and I'm trying to get you there
before the flight leaves."

"You mean I'm traveling by myself?"  I asked suddenly excited.

"No.  The unaccompanied part means you aren't traveling with family.  Ray
arranged for a stewardess to travel with you, so you will be accompanied by
an adult."

"But, dad, I don't need a baby sitter," I pleaded.

"Travel with the stewardess, or don't travel.  That's the only choices
you're getting."

"Yes, sir.  Is she cute?"

"What do you care?  She's way too old for you, anyway," he laughed. "Leave
your books in the car.  You'll have to take your bag on the plane with you,
but that shouldn't be a problem.  You won't change planes or anything.  Get
on here, get off in Atlanta.  Ray will be waiting on the other end."

Now, I was bouncing.  I kept looking at the speedometer.  When it topped
eighty-five I didn't look any more.  "What's Uncle Ray doin' in Atlanta?
Did you remember my necklaces that I got in Cherokee?  Am I stayin' with
him next week?  What about^Å."

"Hey.  What is this; somebody push your magpie button?  The answers are:
ask him, one of them, probably, and I don't know.  Now settle down.  If
that poor stewardess could see you right now, she'd get scared to death and
run, you're getting so hyper."

I didn't say any more, at least not much.  I sat there watching the world
fly by and bounced in my seat.  When we got to the airport we ran in.  The
ticket was there and they said we had to hurry.  When we got to the
security place they gave Dad a pass so he could get me checked in.  The
stewardess waiting on me was cute.  She was a little old, at least in her
mid-twenties.  Dad ran his hand over my head, messing up my hair; that was
his idea of a hug; I couldn't remember the last time he actually hugged me.
As I walked away he called out to me that he'd see me Wednesday.  Now I had
something to think on all the way to Atlanta.

***

If you ever traveled as a kid or have kids you let travel alone, you know
that umt's are the first to get on and the last to get off, even if we're
sitting in the first row.  When we finally got off I was ready to go, but I
had to hold her hand while she walked me down to wherever.  We didn't go
far when I saw Uncle Ray up ahead and wanted to make a break for him; I
still had to hold her hand and walk.  When we were three steps away she let
my hand go and I jumped up on him for a hug.  He produced some ID, signed a
release and we were off.

Walking out of the airport I had a hundred questions to ask.  I was asking
faster than he could answer.  He turned to me and asked only one question,
"Do I need to find a track and let you run off some of that energy?"

"Nooo.  Don't Uncle Ray.  Dad already started in today.  I don't understand
what's happenin'.  You said you'd be out of town so I wouldn't get to come
up.  Then dad said somethin' about maybe me and Larry comin' up on
Wednesday.  At the airport, dad said he'd see me on Wednesday.  This is
confusin'.  Why are we in Atlanta?"

"Think about it," he told me, "I am out of town and you didn't get to come
up.  Your dad and I thought you might enjoy a little trip to Atlanta.  He
said you've been good and getting your school work done so he didn't mind
pulling you out of school a little early.  We talked a couple of days ago
and the arrangements were made.  He did call me and tell me it was a mad
dash to the airport because he was running behind.  Something about an
emergency hearing he had to go to this morning."

"Yeah.  He said we set some new speed records getting' to the airport, but
we made it.  What are we doin' here?"

"Antique car auction.  There's a special car I'm going to try to buy.  It's
my all time favorite, a 1956 Lincoln Mark II.  There's supposed to be a
real nice one consigned to this sale, but it hasn't gotten here yet."

"What's it look like?" I asked.  As we reached a car he pointed at; I gave
him my 'what's this' look..

"Rental car.  Here's a picture from the sales brochure.  When we get to the
hotel we'll have to look for it.  Cars are coming in every minute.  I want
to inspect it before the crowds come in.  You hungry?"

"Some.  Not a whole lot; but I will be."

We stopped at a Burger King for a quick lunch and headed for the hotel.  We
were staying at a Marriott next to the sale site.  You talk about a lot of
cars, Uncle Ray said over five hundred cars were going to be run through in
the next three days.  The one he wanted was expected to run through on
Saturday around mid-afternoon.  This was Thursday, so we had some time.
Uncle Ray was registered as a buyer, so I got a pass that let me go almost
anywhere I wanted.  I was running through the storage lot looking at some
of the neat cars that were already there when he stopped me.

"Let's go inside for a while, kiddo.  I feel like hitting the exercise room
for a little bit."

"Exercise room?  That doesn't sound like fun to me.  I'd rather stay out
here."

"Not by yourself," He said to me.

"Why not?  I won't bother anything," I pleaded.

"That's not the problem.  I have this funny thing about making sure my
favorite kid stays safe.  These days, some idiot would walk up behind you,
snatch you up, and I'd never see you again.  Then I wouldn't have a kid to
pick on, would I?  Forgot to tell you, they have a heated pool in the
exercise area."

"I don't have a swim suit"

"How do you know?  Bet you haven't looked in the bag your dad packed for
you.  I had him pack your favorite sleeping shorts.  You can wear them in
the gym when we run on the treadmill."

"You mean he packed my favorite 'special' shorts?  The ones he hates?"

"Supposed to.  I told him you like to sleep in them.  He told me I could
lose them and he wouldn't care."

We got to the room and, sure enough, there in my bag was my favorite pair
of 'sleeping shorts'.  Uncle Ray said I could swim in them if I wanted;
just to be careful not to lose them in the pool.  We hit the exercise room
and I was surprised how big it was.  The pool was huge, some of it inside
and some of it outside.  This was going to be cool.

We both did a bunch of sit-ups.  He pumped some iron while I watched, and
then we ran a mile and a half on the treadmill.  The running part wouldn't
have been quite so bad if he hadn't raised the front of the thing.  He ran
and I wasn't about to say I couldn't keep up.  If I did that, then he'd
have me down here three times a day till I could keep up.  After the run we
were both covered in sweat.  I lost my shirt and shoes and jumped in.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!  Heated pool my foot ^Ö compared to what?" I hollered at him
and he just laughed.

"Anybody ever tell you to test the water before jumping in?  It's supposed
to be heated.  If you look you'll see that glass wall stops about two feet
above the water line.  You jumped in next to the outdoor part of the pool."

We played in the pool, mainly grab assing.  Once in a while he'd have to
take a break and some people would say a little something to him and he'd
laugh.  I couldn't hear what they said but figured it was people he knew
from the auction.  After a couple of hours he thought we should go in.  He
got out and grabbed towels for both of us.  When I started out of the water
he was standing there smiling from ear to ear.  I asked him what was so
funny and he moved to let me look in the mirror.  My special shorts were
see-through when they got wet.  All afternoon people could see all of me in
the pool.  I might as well have been skinny dipping.

'Uncle Ray, they're see-through.  Why didn't you say something?
Everybody's been lookin' at my butt and package all afternoon."

"Pretty much; been getting a good laugh from it too.  Don't worry.  You
didn't hear anybody complain did you?"

"No.  But that's not the point."

"Let's see, now.  The kid who starts stripping before I get him inside and
who liked to mow the grass naked and enjoyed being nude at the beach is all
of a sudden shy?  If I'm not mistaken, you cut as much as you could out of
the back of those things so you could feel 'free'?"

What could I say?  He was right.  However, I did wrap the towel around me
when we headed back to the room.  As payback, well, while we stood in front
of the elevator, I took them off and handed them to him just as the doors
opened.  I made sure I wasn't in his reach either; be like him to go for
the towel.

When we got to the room, it was cold.  He adjusted the heat and I looked
for something to get warm.  My warm-up suit was there and I had it on in a
hurry.  Uncle Ray grabbed the same thing.  When he sat down I climbed in
his lap and held on for warmth.  He held me close with my head on his
shoulder.  After a few minutes I was warm and realized I had another
problem.  My stomach was registering below empty.  It didn't take much to
get him headed downstairs to find a fueling station.  Mostly some shoes and
a hairbrush to make us look decent.

I thought we'd eat at the hotel.  He thought since he let me put on a show
for everybody around the pool, maybe he owed me a treat.  Maybe?  One of my
all time favorite foods was lobster and he knew where to find a Red
Lobster.  While we ate he said when we got back to the room he had another
treat for me.  I thought about it and just grinned.  He didn't say any
more.  While we ate though, I started itching.  He said it was from the
chlorine in the pool and the heat my clothes contained.  I unzipped a
little to let some air in and it helped.

When we got back to the hotel we stopped at the gift shop and picked up a
pint of Rocky Road; my favorite.  Uncle Ray wanted to save it for later,
but I was afraid it would melt.  He used the plastic bag in the ice bucket,
filled it half way with ice, put the ice cream in it and set the package in
the little fridge.  A little imagination helped.  Then it was time for the
next surprise; I stripped and was ready.

I thought we were going to play but he said I smelled like Clorox.  He
guided me to the tub.  It wasn't a regular tub, it was a Jacuzzi tub.  A
hot bath with him was always relaxing.  Add in the Jacuzzi and it was
really nice.  I made myself comfortable and let him bathe me and shampoo my
hair.  When he finished I explored the tub.  The bubbles coming up from the
bottom hitting behind my sac and on my pucker really felt good.  We stayed
there until the water started getting cool.  Getting out, a thick towel and
heat lamp really finished off a relaxing soak.

He settled on the sofa and held his hands out to me.  I climbed, up
straddling his lap, on my knees with my toes hanging off the front of the
cushion.  When he propped his feet on the coffee table I leaned back and
relaxed while he put the palms of both hands on my chest and thumped me
with his fingers.

"We need to talk, kid.  Your dad was supposed to talk to you when he picked
you up, but things got a little hectic.  He decided that rather than risk
getting you upset, it would be better to let me talk to you tonight."

"'Bout what?" I asked.  I thought it was horny toad time but he sounded
serious.

"Remember the tests the doctor ran on your eyes a few weeks back?"

"Yeah."

"Well, based on those tests and after talking with the doctors about the
options available, your dad and I thought it would be best to go ahead and
have something done about your eyes now.  Remember your dad said something
about seeing you on Wednesday?"

"Yeah.  That when they're gonna do it?"

"Didn't take much for you to figure that one out, did it?"  I smiled and
shook my head.  "Heh, look at me.  You know, you have a habit that,
whenever you aren't sure about something you always look away from me.  Did
you know that?"

"Noooo."

"Next Wednesday we will go to the hospital early in the morning.  Sit up a
little so you can see your reflection in the picture hanging behind me.
All they'll do is make a tiny incision right here, just behind your eye.
The doctor will trim the muscle, close the incision, and you're all done."

While he talked I watched in the glass.  He pointed to the place where they
would make the cut.  I stayed up on my knees, looking in the glass.  His
hands were under my cheeks, supporting me.  I asked him if I'd be awake
during all this.  That was the part that didn't sound like any fun.

"No way, kiddo.  When we get to the hospital and get you checked in they'll
put you in a room to prepare you.  They'll do the usual like listen to your
heart, take your temperature, ask you if you're nervous, to which most
people lie, and tell you what's going to happen.  They'll also put a needle
in the back of your hand.  That's how they put medicine in you.  When you
go to pre-op they'll use a needle to put some stuff in the line going into
your hand.  Your dad will be on one side of the bed and I'll be on the
other.  Within a few minutes of when they stick that needle in the line,
you'll be sound asleep.  When you wake up you'll see your dad on one side
of the bed, me on the other, and it'll all be over."

What he said didn't really scare me.  I can't say what it made me feel
like.  I know I started thinking about something else.  I didn't want to
talk.  I looked down at him; he was looking up at me.  He turned his head
forward and gave me a raspberry on my belly.  I jumped a little and just
looked at him without saying anything.  I sat back up and took his head in
my hands.  I guided my now hard dick to his lips and moved my hips back and
forth.

He didn't say anything, but just began to pleasure me.  I enjoyed feeling
him give me light kisses circling my package.  When he bathed me there, I
just leaned forward.  He controlled me by moving my hips where he wanted; I
relaxed and let him control me.  I took several deep breaths as he sucked
the twins in and teased them with his tongue.  He ran my dick over the side
of his face, letting his beard growth tease the head.  I took more deep
breaths.  A finger moved gently down my crack, then back up.  When he
thought I was ready, he swallowed me.  The sucking sensation felt like he
was trying to suck it right off me.  As I went over the edge I moaned and
tried pulling away, but he held me there firmly with his hands on my butt.
When I finished he pulled me back down in his lap and pulled me close.  I
lay on him enjoying the comfort of his arms around me.

***

Friday morning we didn't get up and head over to the auction site like I
thought we would.  We got in the car and drove out to Lawrenceville, which
was about thirty minutes or so northeast of Atlanta.  Lawrenceville was
where the courthouse was for Gwinnett County, which is where Uncle Ray's
family came from.  We probably could have gotten there faster if we'd known
where we were going.  As it was, we took what Uncle Ray called the scenic
route.  Translated that means he didn't ask questions, but rode around
until he found what he wanted.

Uncle Ray's grandparents were born back during the Civil War.  He always
said there was a lost generation in his family because his parents were in
their mid-forties when his dad was born and his dad was thirty-nine when
Uncle Ray was born.  All I really understood is that all of them were old
when their kids were born.  He wanted to find a map showing where the old
family homestead was.  He really wanted to try and locate it.

After we got to the courthouse, he started looking for the old tax records.
When I say old, he wanted records from before 1900.  He found them and he
found the tax assessments on the family land.  The assessments gave him the
recording reference of the deeds which he then bought copies of from the
clerk.  Then we went to the assessor's office for maps.  In the end he
found out part of the land was in Stone Mountain Park and the rest was part
of a subdivision.  It took almost all morning to find this out.

On the way back he wanted to know why I was so quiet.  I told him I was
just thinking and he asked me what about.  I asked him if what the doctor
was going to do would make me see better.  He explained that I wouldn't be
able to see any farther or necessarily any clearer.  Seems that when I
switched eyes there was a delay in being able to see properly.  I never
knew that I had the problem.  Then Uncle Ray said I had to think in terms
of when I got older, like when I was driving.  If I needed to switch eyes
while driving and couldn't see right I could cause an accident and hurt
myself or somebody else.  Plus, the eye would move further to the side and
in school the kids would tease me to death about it.  I just said 'oh' and
didn't say any more.  He'd always taken care of me.

There was one thing he did for me on the way back from Lawrenceville.
After lunch, we stopped at The Sports Authority and got me some swim
trunks.  I wasn't going swimming in see-through shorts any more.

***

Friday night there was a reception at the auction tent for sellers and
buyers.  Fortunately, it was casual.  The adults had their drinks and the
kids (and there was a number of us) had their drinks.  One of the kids,
Billy, was my age and the son of one of the auctioneers.  He could almost
rattle off whatever it is an auctioneer says as fast as his dad.  He and I
hit it off pretty good and wound up hanging out together most of the
weekend.  I told him I was there with Uncle Ray and he was here for a
special car.  Billy took me over to see the car and then we each started
looking for our favorite.  His was a sports car and mine was a Model A hot
rod.  There was no chance we could talk anybody into buying them, but it
was fun dreaming.

When we went in for the night Uncle Ray told me I better be on the lookout
for a nice car.  When I asked him why he told me he only bought one-way
plane tickets and turned the rental car in.  We didn't have any way to get
home.  After we got in the room and got comfortable I told him he deserved
to be punished for getting us stranded and he had to lay on the bed and
take his punishment.  When he wanted to know what his punishment was I told
him he had to let me do whatever I wanted to him and he couldn't stop me.
This night was my turn to play.

I liked to lay on top of him with my knees on the bed.  I'd learned how to
straddle him putting my knees on the bed but hooking my feet over the top
of his legs.  This way, by flexing my legs, I could lift myself and move up
and down him, teasing both of us.  I'd work on his neck and nipples,
sucking, licking and chewing.  He'd keep one or both hands on my butt,
kneading my cheeks.  Sometimes he'd pull my cheeks apart and run his
fingernail over the inside edge of my treasure hole.  When I'd moan and
squirm, he just did more.  After a while of letting me be on top he'd pop
my butt and toss me off.  While I bounced on the mattress he'd make a
growling sound and attack me.

Depending on how he attacked he might hold my arms above my head and go
after my ears and nips while I wrapped my legs around him and humped for
all I was worth.  Other times he'd hold my arms beside me or pin them under
the small of my back and give me a tongue bath.  I always cried for more
and mixed that with the never ending giggles.  We had a king size bed in
our room and wrestled all over it.

In the end we wound up in our favorite position, using the others thigh as
a pillow in a sixty-nine.  He always told me not to try and swallow and let
him go when he said.  In the past couple of visits I didn't let go and
always had his juices running out of my mouth and dripping on us both.  He
always swallowed all of me and even tried for the twins.  He wouldn't let
go after I got real sensitive and teased me to the point I bounced off the
bed.  When he thought I was worn out he lay down and pulled me up next to
him.  After he cleaned me with a damp cloth and towel I snuggled into my
nest and he held me.

***

If you've never had the opportunity to attend an antique auto auction,
there's no way I can really describe it.  It's almost a carnival atmosphere
with a lot of money running around.  The best thing to do is go on the
internet and check out the sites for Barrett- Jackson or Kruse-Leake.
These are two of the larger auction companies that Uncle Ray relied on
because of their reputations.

I spent a lot of time with Billy.  Because of his dad and my uncle we got
to ride through the auction in a number of the cars.  If we didn't ride or
run around somewhere, we spent a good bit of time in the pool.  We both
liked swimming and I was glad Uncle Ray had bought me proper swim trunks.
There was no way I was swimming with Billy with see- through shorts.  Since
we stayed in our swim suits a lot, we also wound up eating lunch outside by
the pool.  When Uncle Ray saw the food bill he just looked at me and made a
comment about not having to worry about me and Billy going hungry.  I
reminded him that we were still growing boys.

Uncle Ray inspected the Mark II on Saturday morning.  He didn't even try to
buy it.  The seller represented the car as having the original body and
being rust free.  Uncle Ray said the whole rocker panel (that's the part
below the doors) was bondo.  He said it looked like someone had replaced
the floor pans too.  The car was a fake.  When Uncle Ray reported this to
the auction people the car was removed from the sale.

He did buy a Model A and an Olds Hurst 442 with split sun roof.  The Model
A was being shipped home.  The Olds was for us to get home.  This was a
special edition put out by Olds.  Painted white, it was trimmed in gold
with a black interior.  Uncle Ray said he could buy it and when he sold it
back home, make enough to cover the cost of the trip.  I told him he needed
to keep it for me for when I got my license.  We headed home on Monday.  It
was cool in Atlanta.  Lunch was in Valdosta.  In the afternoon it got warm.
The t-tops came off, so did our tops and the sunglasses came out.  How was
the ride home?  T-tops open, bare chested, warm sun ^Ö cool, way cool.

End Chapter Thirty-Eight

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