Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2006 13:35:31 -0600
From: H. Rick Cantwell <zestful@myexcel.com>
Subject: Rascal 28

Rascal Part Twenty-Eight
Pappa Perks and Party Preps

	One day in early summer, when I was visiting Ryan, Dr. Wasserdyne
phoned Lyle and invited himself over.  He was Ryan's attending
physician while he recovered from his lead pipe assault.  One day
during Ryan's hospital stay, Dr. Wasserdyne had engaged Ryan and me in
a strange conversation about a father/son genetic study he was involved
in.   Shortly after that, Ryan and I discussed it with Lyle but I had
long since forgotten about it ... until he called.
	"He wants to come over and discuss that project of his with us."
Lyle said after he got off the phone.
	"All right!" Ryan said.
	"Don't go getting all excited over nothing.  We don't even know
what this is all about," I warned.
	"Big feet, big meat," Ryan said.
	"Oh it is not!" I said.
	"He said he was comparing how sons measure up to their dads.  How
else can he compare except here?"  Ryan cupped his crotch.
	"Well, I don't think so," Lyle said, "because he asked if Amanda
was home."
	"So?" Ryan argued.  "He just doesn't want her here to spoil the
fun."
	"It's a scientific project, not ... a fun project ... and
besides, he WANTS your mother here," Lyle said.
	"Oh," Ryan moaned.
	"Maybe I should leave," I offered but only half-heartedly.  I
really wanted to find out what that cryptic jibber jabber back in the
hospital room was all about.
	"Stick around.  I'm sure it's not going to be anything you can't
know about.  Especially since he's already asked you about you and YOUR
dad."
	"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, relieved for some strange
reason that I'd be able to stay--especially since I had been feeling
left out of a lot of things, lately.  Tyler and Kevin were seeing more
of Rascal than I was.  Lyle even had Ryan join him during his gym
workouts whenever national secrets weren't being discussed. Of course,
I couldn't fault Lyle for wanting to be with his son more often. Even
so, Lyle's innocent comment, however, caused me to remember Dr.
Wasserdyne had asked 'Is your dad nearby?'  At the time, I thought his
phrasing was strange.  The more I thought about the way he asked it,
the more intrigued I was.
	Oddly enough, we all sat around in the rec room like nervous
strangers while we waited for the doctor to arrive.  Even Amanda's
voice was tense when she asked, "Anyone want something to drink?"
	"Let's wait for the doctor," Lyle said, "and we'll have whatever
he's having."
	"I want lemonade," Ryan said.
	"Then go fix some," Amanda said,  "There isn't any already made."
	When the buzzer to the gate sounded, Ryan shouted from upstairs,
"I'll get it."  Shortly thereafter, Ryan ushered the doctor downstairs.
	I gawked as the doctor descended the steps.  I had only seen him
in his hospital scrubs and his white lab coat.  In jeans and a muscle
shirt, he looked delectable.  As Ryan strode down behind him, I saw a
look on his face like he agreed with my assessment.
	Since the doctor preceded Ryan, Lyle extended his hand and said,
"I hope you don't mind us being so informal but there's a better view
from down here than upstairs in the living room."
	"No, not at all."
	"Amanda," Dr. Wasserdyne said, shaking Amanda's proffered hand.
	Standing, I shook his hand, too.  "Nice to see you again,
Doctor."  I wanted to add, 'very nice' but I restrained from being too
effusive.
	"Mr. Hickey, isn't it?" the doctor said, professionally, "... but
you prefer 'Dick,' right?"
	I nodded in surprise at the doctor's remarkable memory for
detail.
	"Have a seat," Lyle said, raising an eyebrow to Ryan to keep him
from stating the obvious--about me preferring dick.
	Amanda must have been just as stunned by the doctor's appearance
as I was because she sat down heavily without even offering him
anything to drink.
	"I'll get right to the point," Dr. Wasserdyne said in a no-
nonsense manner.  "Dr. Zender and I are working on a project that is
intended to track specific DNA properties.  What we want to try to
establish is the dominant link ... if there is one ... between males in
uh, specific family situations."
	"Like what?" Ryan asked enthusiastically.
	Turning to Amanda, Dr. Wasserdyne asked, "Do you have any
objections if I discuss sex and sexuality?"
	"No, of course not.  We're all adults here."  Then, waving an
upturned palm toward Ryan she said, "except Ryan--but sometimes he's
more adult than the three of us put together."
	"So I noticed at the hospital.  By the way, Amanda, is your
father nearby?"
	It was the same question he had asked me.  "Nearby."  It was only
then that it occurred to me it was a nicer way of asking if a person's
parent was still alive, without bringing up the "death" aspect of it.
	"An hour or so away.  Why?"
	"If he's willing, I'd like to include him in the study, so keep
him in mind during our discussion."
	"Oh, okay."
	"What Dr. Zender and I are mapping is the age old question ...
mystery, really ... of why some men are ... shall we say, blessed while
others in the same family are not."
	"You mean, hung like a mule?" Ryan asked, cutting straight
through all the rhetoric.
	"Yes," Dr. Wasserdyne said, "exactly."
	"Dr. Zender and I would also like to determine if there truly is
a correlation between ... uh ..."
	"Big feet, big meat?" Ryan offered.
	Smiling, Dr. Wasserdyne said, "Right again, lad."
	"Hey, you don't have to be shy around Mom.  She knows I'm gay and
..."
	I cringed, wondering what Ryan would reveal next.
	"... she know I'm hung like a horse.  I'll bet Daddy is, too ...
you know, when he gets hard."
	I silently prayed Dr. Wasserdyne picked up on Ryan's clue that
Amanda wasn't aware of their incestuous relationship.
	"She knows Spunky and I do it, but we don't bore her with the
details."
	"Shock is more like it," I said.  "What Ryan is trying to say is
that we leave our bedroom antics in the bedroom."
	"Well, this study has nothing to do with that.  It's merely a
clinical study of size and heredity."
	"What's MY dad got to do with it, then?" Amanda asked.
	"We have SOME test subjects whose maternal grandfathers were ...
small and ..."
	"Small hung?" Ryan asked to help clarify.
	"Yes.  And, while the subject's father was large, his progeny
was not and we're trying to determine if it came from the mother's side
of the family.  Our three-generation data is rather sketchy, right now.
In the case study I just mentioned, if we had the size of the mother's
father, we might be able to determine if penis size could skip a
generation.  And of course, I'm speaking of large versus small but
penises of equal or similar size, shape, density and tumescence are all
being studied."
	Lifting his foot, Ryan said, "Size eleven and still growin'.
Will mine get bigger?"
	"That's what we'd like to document."
	"Well, I'm not sure Dad would want to be ..." Amanda stammered.
	"Measured?" Dr. Wasserdyne asked.
	"Yes."
	"If you think your dad would be embarrassed by you asking him,
perhaps Ryan could ask him ... or Lyle."
	"Ryan would be much more effective in convincing him than me,"
Lyle said.
	"So where do you ... uh ... take these measurements?" Amanda
asked.
	"In a clinic, funded specifically for this study.  Remember the
old Kinsey Report?  That was funded by private and corporate donations.
This is kind of the same thing."
	"When can we start?" Ryan asked eagerly.
	"Next week if you want.  Whether your grandfather participates or
not.  So long as Lyle is willing, we'll be able to go ahead with it."
	"Hate to throw a monkey wrench into this but isn't it counter-
productive to take measurements on just two or three generations?"
Amanda asked.
	"This project will probably go through six generations before
anything definitive is determined.  You know, two generations back and
three or four into the future.  You see, we have already begun taking
measurements on newborns and we'll track them until THEY have male
heirs and those heirs have male heirs."
	"Oh, so it won't take another hundred years or anything."
	"No.  In fact, some of our newborn subjects are already ten years
old."
	"Wow!  This study has been going on that long?" Lyle asked.
	"We were hoping to expedite it by measuring adult men of several
generations whenever possible, like Lyle, Ryan and his granddad."
	"So what happens in the case of Ryan?" I asked.  "What if he
never has any children?"
	"Lately he's been showing some interest in girls," Amanda said,
defensively, if not a little hopefully, "so it's not out of the
question, but ... yeah, wouldn't that be kind of a dead end?"
	"In that case, yes, but the three-generation information would
still be valid and when incorporated with all the other data, it would
give us a basis for a hypothesis."
	"That means a theory, Mom."
	"Oh, yes, of course," Amanda replied more to the doctor's
explanation than Ryan's.
	"I'm game," Lyle said.
	"Yea!" Ryan squealed.  "And I'm gonna convince Grandpop, too."
	"I'd like that," Dr. Wasserdyne said, "but don't do anything that
will upset him or cause any contention within the family.  Okay?"
	"Dick," Lyle said pensively, "what about Kevin?"
	I knew Kevin's dad was dead and Kevin didn't have any kids but
Lyle knew that, too, so I looked at him quizzically.  From his
expression, I knew HE couldn't ask the question because Amanda was in
the room.  All I had to do was figure out what question he had in mind.
	Piecing all I knew about Kevin together and honing in on
genetics, I quickly understood Lyle's question.
	"Uh, Doc, I have a friend who knows a lot of ... shall we say ...
public servants who could be of help--firefighters, policemen ... they
all seem to be willing to join a good cause."
	Amanda, as if struck by lightning, realized she hadn't offered
Dr. Wasserdyne anything to drink.  She checked the downstairs fridge
but didn't find enough for all of us.
	After she went upstairs, I said, "Those men I mentioned are ...
father and son teams.  They do everything together.  I think they'd
love to be a part of the study."
	"They have to be biological relatives ... not, uh ... or else it
will corrupt the data."
	Surprised by his understanding of the gay ways, I said, "Yeah,
they are.  They're not role-playing daddies."
	"Great!  How many are we talking about?"
	"At least half a dozen pairs, maybe more."
	"Are they all ... uh ... gay pairs?"
	"The ones I was thinking about are but I'm sure there are others
who will be willing to participate."
	"Duh!  Bisexual at best!" Ryan said, crossing his eyes
comically.  Then, helpfully, he said, "One guy named Bruce has a son
my age and he's not gay.  His dad is but he's not.  He's dating a girl.
Hey!  How about Tyler and Jason?"
	"We could ask 'em," I said.
	"These are all biological fathers and sons?" Dr. Wasserdyne
asked astounded.
	"Yeah, why?" I asked.
	"I never knew there was so much ..."
	"Incest in suburbia?" Lyle asked.  "More than you know.  But
once Kevin finds a father/son team, he likes to introduce them to
other teams just so they know they're not alone in their feelings for
each other."
	"Uh, speaking of which, these guys can't be known by their own
names," I said.
	"Well, we won't be documenting any family relationships other
than the fact that they are father and son ... and grandson," Dr.
Wasserdyne said, looking over at Ryan.
	"Now that guys are becoming more aware that they can be dads
and gay, too, there's a lot less shame associated with incest among
more liberal groups," I said as a way of helping Dr. Wasserdyne
understand how predominantly straight fathers could turn to an
incestuous relationship when the opportunity presented itself.
	"Like Bruce," Ryan said.  "He didn't know he was gay ... bi,
actually ... until after his son was born.  Then Bruce found out HIS
Dad was a repressed homosexual and everything fell into place."
	"So it's three generations of gay men ... and boys?" Dr.
Wasserdyne asked.
	"I don't know about his son.  He might be gay," Ryan said as if
it didn't matter one way or the other, "but I don't think he is."
	"What about Zack and ... his dad?" Ryan asked, wisely not using
Coach's nickname.
	Lyle said, "That would make a great study group.  There are four
or five sons from age 11 to 22, I think."
	"Definitely talk to them," Dr. Wasserdyne said enthusiastically.
"That's exactly what we're looking for.  That is to say, they don't
all have to be gay."  Then Dr. Wasserdyne shook his head disgustedly.
"I don't know why I didn't think to use gay guys before.  They're
usually more open to being seen naked than straight guys are."
	"You probably fell into the stereotypical belief that gays were
... isolated individuals ... that they wouldn't have harmonious
relationships with their fathers," Lyle suggested.
	"That's a common misconception.  In fact, what I've discovered,"
I said, "is most estranged gay guys give up talking to their dads
because they THINK their dads don't want anything to do with them.
And, although it might be true at first, dads usually come to terms
with it one way or another."
	"But by then," Ryan said sagely, "the gay guy is afraid to talk
to his dad 'cuz he thinks his dad can't stand to be in the same room
with him."
	"So father and son miss out on a lot of valuable years of doing
things together ... straight things ... It's a shame, really," I said.
	"Like going to baseball games together ... or skiing, or ..."
Ryan said, beginning one of his interminable lists.
	"Yeah, yeah," Lyle said.  "He gets it."
	"How soon would you know if any of these guys would be willing
to participate?" Dr. Wasserdyne asked eagerly.
	"I'm sure they'll all be willing.  It's just a matter of
scheduling the event," Ryan said.
	"Event?" Dr. Wasserdyne asked like he had just eavesdropped in on
a conversation.
	"Yeah! We'll plan a pecker-measuring party!" Ryan shouted.
	"A what?" Amanda asked, returning with the drinks.
	"A pecker-measuring party," Ryan reiterated.
	"I'm not sure your Grandpop would ... you know ..."
	"He could be measured at another time, couldn't he?" Ryan asked
Dr. Wasserdyne.  "I mean, we don't all have to be measured on the same
day, right?"
	"No, I mean yes, of course he could," Dr. Wasserdyne stammered at
Ryan's double question, answering in reverse order.  It was obvious the
doctor was a bit flustered by Ryan's suggestion of a party.  "Uh ...
they will all be measured separately.  They'll each have different
appointments."
	"This is a clinical study, not a Roman orgy, Ryan," Lyle
admonished.
	"But it would be a lot quicker to schedule 'em all at one time
... I mean, all on the same day.  It's not like any of 'em are shy
about being naked or anything."
	"Ryan," I said warningly, "your mother doesn't need to be
subjected to your adolescent exuberance."
	"It's no different than being in the locker room together."
	"The doctor knows best how the tests have to be conducted,"
Amanda said in that tone moms use to sooth a child's bruised ego.
	"I suppose it COULD be done all in one day," Dr. Wasserdyne said,
like he was thinking aloud.  "Dr. Zender and I could take the
measurements and record the data simultaneously.  Yes, actually, that's
a fine idea ... getting them all together at once ... not the party
idea."
	"But after you're all done," Ryan said excitedly, "we could
party.  That would ensure everyone would show up so you can work on
your project."
	Silently, I got Ryan's attention and made eye movements in his
mother's direction.  He calmed down but I could see his mind was
preoccupied ... probably trying to figure out how to convince Dr.
Wasserdyne to party naked with the rest of us.
	However, since Dr. Wasserdyne didn't totally dismiss Ryan's idea,
I said, "If I can set up a date for all of us to get together, how far
in advance do I need to make it?  You know, so you don't have to
reschedule patients."
	"Six weeks," Dr. Wasserdyne said, "or a little more."
	"Great, that's about how long it would take some of these guys to
schedule time off.  They get their assignments a month in advance for
the following month and they have two weeks in which to reschedule
dates."
	"Wonderful," Dr. Wasserdyne said, with a hint in his voice of
uncharacteristically gleeful anticipation.
	Ryan was smiling, too, but Lyle looked lost in thought when I
glanced in his direction.
	"Lyle, you got a question?"
	"Doc, how much space do you need?"
	"For what?"
	"To do whatever you do ... to take those measurements and record
'em--an office-sized room?"
	"Yeah."
	"Is your equipment portable?"
	Surprised by the question, Dr. Wasserdyne looked around at each
of us as he said cautiously, "Uh, yeah.  I guess it could be.  We could
use a laptop ... and the calipers fit in my coat pocket.  Of course,
there's the patient's charts and ... why?"
	"If we offer OUR place," Lyle said, waving an upturned palm around
the rec room, ending with his hand extended toward the pool area,
"would you be able to perform the study here?"
	"I suppose we could.  Usually we do it in the clinic but that
doesn't mean it HAS to be done there.  I'd have to bring a box of exam
gloves," he said, like he was making a mental list, "and ... I'd need a
sink nearby to wash my hands."
	"Amanda, would you have a problem with having the exams done
here?" Lyle asked.
	"We'll clean up afterward.  I promise." Ryan pleaded.
	"And I'll make sure he does it properly," I said, letting Ryan
know that HE was the one who would be doing most of the work.  "It was
HIS idea, after all."
	"Nuh uh, it was Daddy's!" Ryan said, "but I still promise to
clean up."
	I meant the exam part, not the venue, but I didn't bother to
pursue a clarification.
	"How many?" Amanda asked, looking around the room at the myriad
collections of knick-knacks.
	"This room will be off limits except to use the bathroom," Lyle
reassured her.  "Everyone will be kept outside by the pool until Dr.
Wasserdyne is ready to take their measurements."
	With more sincerity than I anticipated, Amanda said, "I don't
see why not."
	Ryan shot out of his chair, screaming and jumping around, like he
had been struck by lightning.  When his youthful exuberance calmed
down, he said, "I'm gonna start a list.  Don't want to forget anyone.
They'd be pissed!"
	Observing Ryan's outburst, Dr. Wasserdyne said, "It's nice to
see his bones healed properly."
	"I could stay at my sister's," Amanda said.  "That way, if it
takes longer than expected, you can order in Pizza."
	"You don't have to go.  You'll have the whole rest of the house
to yourself," Lyle said.
	Ryan shot his father eye daggers.
	"No, there's gonna be way too much testosterone energy around
here for me," Amanda said mockingly.
	"You mean you'd get horny?" Ryan snickered.
	After a glare from his mother, Ryan lost his smirk.
	"Well, very good, then.  You'll get back with me then," Dr.
Wasserdyne said, then, standing and extending his hand to Amanda,
"It was nice seeing you again."
	Standing, too, Lyle said, "I'll see you to the door."
	After Dr. Wasserdyne left, the three of us reassured Amanda
everything would be fine.  Then, I had to leave.  Ryan asked me to
call him the next day after I got off work.  He wanted to give me his
'preliminary' list of test subjects.  Over the next week, I spoke to
Kevin twice.  For a guy who was such a bane to my existence earlier
in my life, he sure was becoming the go-to guy for all of us.  He
contacted his Father/Son teams and we arranged the "Pecker-Measuring
Party."
	It was mid August when Dr. Wasserdyne phoned on Wednesday night
to confirm that the physio-genetic study was still scheduled for
Saturday--or what Rascal referred to as the "Pecker Party."
Originally, he called it the Big Meat, Big Feet Party.  Then he changed
it to the Peter Meter Party, then to the "Pecker-Measuring Party," and
sometime during the next six weeks it was reduced to "Pecker Party."
He would smile impishly every time he referred to it by its even more
abbreviated name, "P Party" or sometimes, "P.P."
	"Everything's all set," I said.  "There's about 45 or 50 people
gonna be here."
	"Really?  That many?"
	"It should give you fifteen to twenty more families--I mean, case
studies to evaluate."
	"Wonderful!  And some are three generational?"
	"Yep."
	"I'll see you Saturday then," Dr. Wasserdyne said excitedly.
	Lyle phoned later that same night to ask if I would be willing
to do some shopping on Thursday--my day off.  He needed more beer,
booze, chips, and pretzels--all the usual party fixings.  "There's
only one downside," he warned.
	"What's that?" I asked, concern in my voice.
	"Rascal wants to go with you."
	"Tell him the deals off," I chuckled.  Then I said, "Tell him
I'll pick him up at noon."
	"Thanks.  See you Saturday," Lyle said.  The disconnect tone told
me the conversation was over.  It also told me Lyle was probably
working late every night just so he could get all day Saturday off.
'Sometimes it can be a bitch, being the one in charge,' I thought.
	As it turned out, I had to put the party supplies on my credit
card but Ryan assured me Lyle would cover it ... with a healthy bonus
for my inconvenience.  Once we got it home, Ryan suggested we carry it
around back instead of through the house and down the stairs.  He had
printed "arrow" signs on his computer to direct the 'test subjects'
around to the pool area--and not through the flowerbeds.
	To my surprise, Ryan had makeshift tables set up for all of our
purchases.  He had stacked interlocking plastic milk crates to form
sturdy bases and laid thick wooden planks between them--reminiscent of
my college dorm bookcases--except I used red bricks.  On a set of four
pylons, he had an old door with the doorknob removed.
	"I'm gonna put a tablecloth over this and use it as a table for
glasses and bowls of chips and stuff."
	Looking around, I saw it was centrally located for all the guys
who would be milling around.
	"Mom suggested we use that old refrigerator in the garage as an
ice bucket.  She said we could lay it on its back and fill it with ice.
She said it should stay cool with the door closed, even if it ISN'T
plugged in.  I think she only suggested it so we wouldn't be running in
and out of the house.  I think, too, she hopes Daddy will finally send
it to the dump when we're done with it."
	"She HAS been trying to get rid of it for a long time," I said.
	"I put the cooler under here," Ryan said, pointing under the
makeshift table.  "We can keep a big bag of ice in it for mixed
drinks."
	"You seem to have thought of everything."
	"This stuff should be okay out here until Saturday.  There's no
rain forecast at all."
	"And there's the security code on the front gate.  What about the
neighbors?" I asked, surveying the ten-foot cinderblock and red brick
walls that separated all the backyards in the gated community.
	"They wouldn't dare crawl over the fence.  Besides, years ago I
told 'em Daddy had the rail on the top electrified.  I think they
believed me, too."
	Knowing how well Ryan wrote espionage scenarios, I could see how
he would have easily convinced them of anything.
	When we got all the groceries around back, Ryan said.  "Hey,
Spunky, you worked up quite a sweat.  Wanna take a shower?"
	"No," I said, convincingly.  After Ryan's eyes rounded in
amazement, I added, "I wanna fuck your hot sweaty body and then lick
all the sweat off it."
	A male stripper never got out of his clothes quicker.  When he
was naked, Rascal stood with his feet spread and his arms extended to
form a cross.  He looked for all he was worth like DiVinci's Vitruvian
Man--except, in the drawing, the man had four arms and four legs.
	Seeing his dangling meat, I said, "Jesus, Rascal, you seem to get
bigger every time I see you."
	"Well, I AM almost 17, you know."
	I knew Ryan had a quiet birthday party up at the lake--his
preference--so 17 was ten months away.  Even so, he hadn't grown more
than an inch or two in height over the last 18 months, so his flaccid
pecker looked more like an Indian war club than a cock between his
legs.
	"We'll have to ask Dr. Zender if it's normal for you to be that
big at your age.  You're almost as big as your dad."
	"A quarter inch longer when it's hard," Ryan said proudly.  "But
I don't tease him about it."
	"Maybe I'll forget fuckin' ya and just suck that juicy piece of
meat," I said, kneeling in front of him like a supplicant.
	"Nuh uh.  You promised to fuck me."
	"Awh please," I begged like he does when he doesn't get his way.
	"Only after you fuck me.  Now get undressed."
	I tossed my clothes on top of his and walked around behind him.
"Wanna lie on the table or do it standing up?"
	"Standing," Ryan said.
	We had recently begun fucking in the standing position because of
a rhyme Rascal had learned in school.  It went something like,
		In days of old
		When knights were bold
		And women weren't particular,
		They'd back 'em up against the wall
		And do it perpendicular.
	Ryan said I always fucked him deeper when we did it standing up.
	I poked my bulbous head between his butt cheeks and slid right
in.  It wasn't because Ryan was loose, it was more like he was
accustomed to tolerating my abnormal size.
	"Oh fuck, that feels so good, Daddy Two."
	"It sure the fuck does, son," I said, feeling his ass muscles
grip my intruder tightly.
	He reached around behind me to grip my ass cheeks so he could
pull me further into him.
	"What's the matter, little boy?  Aren't I big enough for you
anymore?"
	"You're big enough for three guys," Rascal crooned.  "I love you,
Daddy.  Fuck me.  Kiss my neck like you do and fuck me."
	"I love my little Rascal," I said lovingly.  Then I kissed his
neck.  He turned his head so we could engage in an awkward front-to-
back kiss.  Gripping his cock in one hand and his balls in the other, I
said, "My not-so-little Rascal."
	"Mmmm," Ryan hummed as I felt my cock rubbing full length along
his prostate.  "Feels so good."
	"Don't want you to cum," I said, jacking his dick to hardness.
"Want every drop for myself."
	"Savin' it just for you," Ryan moaned breathily.
	"Me and Lyle," I said, " ... and Jason, Tyler and Jamie."
	"You know the others don't exist when you're around," Ryan said,
"... except Daddy."
	"Yeah, he is pretty special, huh?"  My legs had to be bent at the
knees to get under Ryan's butt, so as I got closer to nutting, he had
to raise up on tiptoes.  As my lunges got more powerful, I began
lifting him off his feet momentarily.  It put so much pressure on my
cock, I thought it would break off at the base but it was worth the
pain.  As I got used to each up thrust, I could hold him airborne a few
seconds longer until at one point, I was actually suspending him in mid
air just by my cock.  Once, I even had to stumble two steps forward and
grab him by the chest to keep him from falling.
	After that, Ryan arched his back to lean against me and my cock
felt like it slipped another inch or two inside him--but I knew that
was impossible.  Nevertheless, the feeling was enough to force me over
the edge and I nutted up my boy's ass.
	He knew I was cumming and screamed, "Fill my ass.  Fill it so
full my belly will bloat up like I'm pregnant."
	I knew I couldn't cum THAT much but at the time, it felt like I
was doing just that.  I kept cumming and cumming until I was weak-
kneed.  As my strength depleted, Ryan knew enough to plant his feet
flat on the ground and hold up my weight until I recovered.
	He was very patient and after I got my sea legs back, I gently
slipped my cock out of his hole, knelt behind him and began rimming
his freshly fucked bung.  I was tempted to suck his insides out but,
instead, waited patiently for my sperm to ooze out.  I licked, lapped,
and sucked my cum out of Ryan's butt.  He startled me when he turned
suddenly to face me.  His cock was an inch from my lips.
	"Now for dessert," Rascal said, swinging his hips to and fro so
he could dickslap my face with his erection.  I noticed it was getting
so heavy it was leaning away from his body more than it did when he
was younger.  Before, it hugged tight to his belly and got painful if
you tried to pry it away.
	Playing along with his game of keep-away, I snapped at it, trying
to capture it with my mouth.  It poked me in the eye once and tried to
insert itself up my nose before I succeeded in sucking enough of it
into my mouth to hold him still.  When I didn't immediately start a
sucking motion, Ryan began a slow and steady push until the head was
lodged in my throat.
	"Oh god, Uncle Dickey, I've wanted to feel that sensation ever
since YOUR cock first went down my throat.  Now I'm finally long enough
that I can be deep-throated.  Oh god, it's totally rad!"
	I swallowed, clenching my throat muscles around his cock head and
realized he had never been this deep before.
	'He really is growing,' I thought, just as proudly as if I were
his biological father.  I gripped his butt cheeks and mashed my face as
close to his pubic bone as I could, just to send his pecker even one
more millimeter deeper into my throat.
	Three rapid taps on my head told me he was ready to shoot.  I
didn't pull off even though I was starved for air.  I wanted him to
feel just how great it felt to spunk this deeply down a guy's throat.
	"Oh, Daddy, I love this," Ryan groaned as his cock lurched in my
mouth, jettisoning his jism straight into my stomach.  I'd tasted his
juice many times before, so I didn't pull back.  I wanted this orgasm
to be his best, ever.
	He trembled from exertion, shuddered in post-orgasmic bliss and
pulled back far enough for me to breathe before he shoved it back down
my throat to squirt another shot of spunk.
	I loved the musky sweaty boy-crotch aroma that wafted up my
nostrils.  I adored the tickle of his pubic hair on my nose when it
wasn't squashed against my face like a Brillo pad.  I sucked his man-
sized boy cock until I coaxed that last elusive drop out--it's the one
that usually leaves a stain in your shorts when you get dressed too
soon after cumming.
	"You sure know how to make a guy feel loved," Rascal said,
kneeling in front of me so he could kiss me.
	"Maybe I WILL shower," I said as we got up.  "But no nonsense.  I
have to get home.
	"To rest up for Saturday, huh, old man?" Ryan said devilishly.
	"Yeah," I said, knowing he was right--more than he knew.  "Gotta
rest up."
	"Be here early," Ryan said after we showered and I was ready to
leave.
	"Actually, I'm coming over Friday night after work.  Your mom's
gonna be gone so I'm sleeping with your dad."
	"All right!" Ryan screamed.
	"Sorry, little man.  Grownups only that night.  Him and me ...
behind locked doors."
	"Nuh uh," Ryan pouted.
	"Yep.  I'm gonna get me some real man-lovin' for a change."
	"What about me?"
	"Tyler's gonna stay with you, 'cuz Jason has to work Saturday.
But he'll be over after work for his 'measurements'."
	I saw Ryan's eyes brighten at the mention of Tyler but he still
pouted as he said, "Oh, okay, I'll baby-sit the twerp."
	I could almost see the wheels turning as Ryan began thinking up
new and exciting things for the two of them to do together.
	By Friday night, I was exhausted both physically and mentally
because The Emporium had a 'truckload' sale and everyone in town showed
up.  If they weren't buying, they were picking my brain for answers
about the "exact" differences between each make and model.  When I
walked into the house, Lyle saw my fatigue immediately.
	"Dude, you look like you've been dragged through a galactic
wormhole backwards."
	"If I were a drinkin' man, I'd order a double."
	"Go lie down.  I'll be right in."
	As I slogged toward Lyle's bedroom, I heard Ryan whisper, "He
doesn't look too good.  Is he all right?"
	"I'm gonna go see in just a minute.  You let Tyler in when he
gets here, okay?"
	"Sure, Daddy," Ryan said with so much concern in his voice, I
knew he was feeling my fatigue.  "And we'll be quiet, I promise.  Hey,
we'll fix dinner, okay?"
	With the last ounce of strength I had, I took off my clothes--
except my boxers--and fell face-first onto the bed.  A few minutes
later, Lyle came in with a mug.
	"It's hot tea and honey.  There's just enough booze in it to open
your blood vessels.  You won't become an alcoholic from it."
	I was too tired to argue, so I rolled onto my side and sipped it
slowly.
	After I was done, Lyle put the empty mug on the nightstand and
said, "I'm gonna give you a massage, okay?"
	"Yeah," I said halfheartedly
	As Lyle began massaging the bottoms of my feet, I felt myself
sinking into a dream-like stupor.  When he had finished both feet, he
crawled onto the bed and began massaging my lifeless hands, rubbing
each finger pad, each knuckle, even the webbing between the fingers.
He vigorously rubbed my wrists at the spot where nurses take your pulse
and I thought I felt my prostate tingle.  When he rubbed the opposite
side of my wrist--along the side the little fingers are, it felt like
my gonads were twitching.
	"What the hell you doin'?" I asked weakly.
	"It'll get your testosterone jumpstarted and you'll recover
faster."
	"God I hope so."
	"Ryan tells me it's just gonna be you and me tonight."
	"Is that okay?  I just need a night with a man for a change.  I
mean ... without having to please the teenagers."
	"Fine by me," Lyle said.  "I've been feeling the same way.  The
other night, I almost called Luke."
	"Your secretary?" I asked.
	"Yeah, I was gonna have him and Kevin meet me at The Club, but
I remembered he was at some charity concert or something."
	Lyle began rubbing my neck and shoulders while he sat on my butt.
His weight felt good as it arched my back, pressing my cock into the
mattress.  As his hands moved down to my shoulder blades, I began to
feel more human and more awake.
	"Besides," Lyle said quietly, trying not to disturb the mood,
"just the two of us sounds so much better than having to divide my
attention between two or more hot guys."
	"Mmmm," was all I could muster.
	"Ready to have your third foot massaged?"
	"Yeah," I said, huskily.
	"Roll over."
	After rolling over, I lifted my butt, allowing Lyle to do all
the work involved in removing my boxers.
	He leaned down and sucked my cock as deep as he could into his
throat.  He had never perfected deep-throating but I didn't care.  The
gagging sounds he made were, to me, even more of a turn-on.  A couple
of times, I heard him chuff like he was going to puke but be controlled
it.  When he looked up along my stomach, past my chest and into my
eyes, I saw tears on his cheeks from trying too hard.
	Raising up, he said, "Just once, I'd like to deep-throat you
without gagging.  I mean, Jesus!  My son can do it.  Why can't I?"
	"Practice." I said.  "A lot more practice than a busy man like
you can devote to it.  How about if you get undressed and we can 69."
	"Now you're talkin'," Lyle said, crawling off the bed long enough
to strip.
	Before he could crawl into position, I reached out and brought
him down for a kiss.  It started out like we were going to work up to a
passionate fuck-fest but it quickly turned into a tender, loving kiss.
A kiss between two lovers, not two fuck-hungry studs.  Our roaming
hands and fingers became instruments of tenderness, not tools of
tantalizing torment.  Our tongues became extensions of our souls as we
searched for the inner essence of each other.
	"God, you're a master of this," Lyle said breathily.  "I've never
felt so loved and so needed by a man in my life.  Right now, if you
asked me to divorce Amanda, I'd do it.  Don't get me wrong.  Once I was
back in my right mind, I wouldn't, but I swear, you could charm the
venom out of a snake, leaving him as nothing more than a harmless,
writhing, wiggling mass of flesh and bone."
	"Sorry, dude," I chuckled.  "I gave up that gig back in the
Garden of Eden."
	"Somehow, I believe you really could be the devil incarnate."
	"No, that would be Rascal."
	We smiled at each other and kissed tenderly again.  We laid
quietly for a while until both of our erections were too insistent to
ignore.  Lyle swung around into position and with each of us on our
sides we sucked each other.  It started out tenderly but as our
passions mounted it became a race to the finish line.  As Lyle's cock
shot jolts of jism into my mouth, I thought how lucky I was to have a
friend like him.  It only took a few more pulls on my cock and Lyle got
a mouthful of MY ball batter.
	He crawled into a snuggling position, pulled one knee up over my
hip to rest it gently on my deflating cock and we napped.
	A quiet tapping on the door awoke us.  "Dinner's ready," Ryan
whispered.  "It'll stay warm if you're not ready, yet."
	"We'll be right out," I said, feeling Lyle's hard-on poking my
hip.
	As he awoke, Lyle instinctively fucked his cock against me and
moaned appreciatively.
	"Dinner's ready," I said.  "Want me to take care of that before
we eat?"
	Becoming more awake, Lyle said, "No, let's stay hard so we can
tease the little fuckers all night and send 'em to bed without
touching us."
	Looking at him with surprise, I said, "I do believe you have a
mean streak in you when you want to."
	"Well," he whined, "it felt so good to be with a man!"
	"If I told you what I was thinking just before you woke up, you
might sing a different tune."
	"What was that?"
	"I was scolding myself for ... for ... falling in love with the
father of the boy I fell in love with."
	Lyle's expression was equally surprised as mine was earlier.
"Are you fuckin' with me ... my mind?"
	"What?"
	"As I started to doze off, I was wondering if two men really
could be happily married ... you know, if Amanda were ... out of the
picture."
	"This is getting uncomfortable," I said, reading in Lyle's eyes,
his discomfort, too.  "Let's go torture the kids."
	I kept his hard-on at full erection while Lyle jacked me until
I plumped up, then we walked casually into the kitchen.
	"Wow!" Tyler shouted.  "Can we get nekkid, too?"
	"Sure," I said, "but neither of you can touch us in any way
tonight."  I really didn't think Lyle nor I would be able to go all
night without touching one or both of the boys but I wanted THEM to
think we could--and would.
	"In fact," Lyle said, "I don't want to see you two touching each
other, either."
	"No way!" Ryan squealed.  "Daddy!" he whined.
	"I'm serious," Lyle said sternly.
	The two moped all during dinner.  As soon as they began clearing
the dishes, I said, "No accidental bumping into each other, either."
	Ryan shot me eye daggers, but smiled like he thought I was
reading his mind.
	Lyle turned his chair sideways to the table and spread his legs,
putting his delectable package on display.  The boys eyed it
appreciatively as they continued clearing the table.  I stood up, knelt
between his feet and sucked him to another erection.  When I stood up
he reached for me and sucked mine back to plumpness again, too.  Then,
I leaned down and kissed him.
	"God, I wish you were my husband," Lyle whispered.
	"I wish you were mine, too."  I stood up and walked behind Lyle.
I rubbed my cock through the hair along the back of his head.  Then I
leaned forward over his right shoulder far enough to rub my flattened
palms over his pecs, nipples and partway toward his crotch, teasing him
just enough to keep him erect.
	"Oh, man," Ryan whined, "that's not fair."
	"Who said life's fair?" Lyle asked.
	"Who cares," Tyler said.  "They're hot!  Fuck!  They're better'n
a porno ANY day.  Look!  I'm throwin' a bone!"
	"Who cares!" Ryan said gloomily.  "We can't do anything about it."
	"Okay, kids, let's go downstairs."
	"What for?" Ryan asked argumentatively.
	"So we can keep an eye on you two," Lyle said firmly.
	The two trudged down ahead of us like they were headed to the
guillotine.  When we got to the rec room, Ryan asked, "Can we go
swimming?"
	"No, you've just eaten.  Besides, you'd try to touch each other
under water."
	"Then I guess we'll have to watch TV," Ryan said to Tyler.
	Lyle put a CD in the player and pressed 'play' on the remote.
Then he waved the remote at me as he deliberately kept it in his hand
and walked back to where I was sitting.
	"I want the two of you on your backs so Spunky and I can watch
your dicks," Lyle said, tossing two throw pillows over to the boys.
They tucked them under their heads.
	"Not a porno!" Ryan whined in distress.  "Jeeze, Daddy, you're
killing me here."
	"Remember that little promise you made to the football team ...
on championship night?"
	"Yeah," Ryan said warily.
	"Remember, at the time, I said you should have been grounded?"
	"Yeah, but I was in the hospital."
	"Well, instead of grounding you, this will be your punishment."
	"You're just evil, Daddy," Ryan said.  "Any other father would
withhold driving privileges or forbid computer games or something."
	"Any other father doesn't have a son obsessed with sex, either."
	"My dad does," Tyler said with a giggle.  Then he waved his hard-
on at the TV.  "Wish I could be a porno star."
	"When you're old enough, maybe I'll let you do some amateur
work," Lyle said.
	"Really!" Tyler shouted excitedly.  "You think Dad would let me?"
	"Oh man," Ryan said, lazily jacking on his cock  "This is a hot
video.  How come I've never seen it?"
	"I don't want either of you to cum until I say so, got it?" Lyle
commanded.
	"Awh fuck!" Ryan groaned, squeezing his thighs against his nuts.
"There are laws in this country against torture, you know."
	Lyle and I stroked, caressed, tweaked, twiddled and otherwise
thoroughly enjoyed each other while we watched the boys watching the
video.  Lyle got a special delight in watching them squirm every time
they wanted to nutt.  Tyler would take a deep breath and hold it until
the urge passed.  Ryan pointed his toes and gritted his teeth.
	Occasionally, Lyle and I would steal a passionate, tongue-dueling
kiss.  At other times, they were sensitive and loving.  Each one was
punctuated with, "I love you," whispered by either him or me.  From
time to time, either Lyle would go down on me for a few minutes or I
would go down on him.  Neither of us actually wanted to cum.  We just
wanted that "feel good" feeling to last all night.
	When the movie ended in a fifteen-man ejaculation climax, Lyle
said, "Boys, come sit on the floor in front of Spunky and me."
	Both boys jumped up to race toward us.  Pre-cum splattered in all
directions as their cocks swung back and forth.  Both wore expressions
that implied they were thinking, 'Oh boy! The guys are so horny, now we
can have sex with 'em.'
	"Sit next to each other but don't touch," Lyle instructed.  Then,
turning to me he asked, "Care to go for a ride?"
	"Oh, fuck!  I thought you'd never ask."
	I started to straddle Lyle, facing him, but he indicated I should
turn around.  I realized that by doing it HIS way, the boys would have
a good view of MY equipment, too, while still being able to see Lyle's
cock sawing in and out of my hole.
	As I impaled myself on his erection, Ryan cupped his nuts in one hand
and pinched his cock head--right at the pee hole--with the other.
	"Oh man," both boys said simultaneously.
	"Please let us cum, Daddy," Ryan pleaded.
	"Please," Tyler begged.  "I'm a growing boy and this could cause
permanent damage."
	To me, it sounded like Tyler was learning a lot from Ryan about
the powers of persuasion.
	"If you cum, I'll duct tape your dick to your belly for a week,"
Lyle threatened.
	"Twerp would love it!" Ryan chided.
	"So would you," Tyler said.
	"Would not."
	I began jacking my cock while bouncing on Lyle's pole.  To
torment the boys even more, I squeezed my pre-cum onto my fingers and
licked it off salaciously.
	"Give me some of that, Spunky.  I need to keep my strength up,"
Lyle urged.
	"You want to eat it when I cum?" I asked.
	"Yeah, right from the spigot.  I want you to shove your cock down
my throat.  I want you to gag me with that monster of yours and flood
my mouth with so much sperm I'll be able to taste it for a week."
	"You want to cum up my ass or all over my balls?" I asked.
	"Would you like that?  You want me to cum on your balls and then
lick it all off?"
	"Yeah, I want it on my balls," I moaned breathily.
	"Maybe I'll let it drip down into your funky ass crack and eat it
from there, too."
	"Oh god, Lyle, do it.  Cum all over my cock and balls and asshole
and suck it up like a human vacuum."
	"Aaagh!" Ryan screamed, squeezing his nuts so tight that his ball
bag was shiny.  "Oh god, stop it.  You two are the hottest two guys on
the planet and I can't stand it.  I've gotta cum so bad my asshole
hurts worse than a toothache."
	"Go jump in the pool--just long enough to cool down--and then get
back here.  And DON'T cum!"
	Ryan was so horny he didn't even close the slider door.
	"Can I suck Spunky?" Tyler asked pathetically.  "I shouldn't be
punished because of what Rascal did."
	"You made the promise, too," Lyle said sternly.  "But" ... he
added with a tone that implied he was thinking, "since you were only an
accomplice ... go ahead."
	"All right!  Thanks, Uncle Lyle."
	That was the first time I'd heard Tyler call Lyle "uncle."  I
know it was a turn-on for me when Ryan first started calling ME uncle.
I wondered how Lyle felt about it.
	"Hey, no fair!" Ryan mewled when he came in, dripping wet and
shivering slightly.  He still had an erection but it didn't look quite
as volatile as before.
	"I was just an accomplice," Tyler said before going down on me
again.
	"Ryan, sit where you can watch.  Tyler, can you lick my cock, as
it goes in and out of Spunky?"
	"Fuck yeah!  Fuck, I'd fuck him with my tongue if you'd let me.
Want me to suck your nuts, too?"
	"Do anything you want, but don't cum."
	"I promise," Tyler said.
	I felt Tyler's tongue lap at my hole as he licked Lyle's invading
cock.  Tyler's nose pressed against my perineum as my balls fell into
his eye sockets, virtually blinding him.  I pulled my nuts out of the
way so Ryan could see more clearly all the action going on between our
joined bodies.  When Lyle hummed, I figured Tyler was sucking on his
balls.
	"Want me to suck Spunky?" Ryan asked.
	"Just watch," Lyle moaned as his cock lurched inside my hole.
	"Getting close?" I asked.
	"Yeah, real close," Lyle said.  "Your sweet ass and Tyler's hot
mouth ... oooh, man!"
	I stopped my up and down motion.
	"Awh fuck!  Don't quit now," Ryan begged.
	"Thanks," Lyle said, "that was close."
	"Let me know when you want me to start again."
	Tyler began sucking me again.  His mouth was so hot ... or I was
so horny ... it was like I'd dipped my dick into molten candle wax.
	"Easy, twerp," I urged, "or you're gonna piss Lyle off."
	"That is so fuckin' hot, Daddy.  Tyler's mouth looks so small
around Spunky's dick.  His lips are stretched so tight they're white
from the lack of blood.  You should see it."
	"Go get me the hand mirror out of the bathroom."
	When Ryan returned, Lyle held the mirror off to the side so he
could watch.  Ryan stood close enough that the back of the mirror
rubbed his cock as Lyle moved it into a position where he could view
the action.  "Tyler, you're such a hot little fucker when you do that.
I'm gonna let you suck mine tomorrow but for now you two are gonna have
to sit down.  Spunky and I have a job to finish."
	I bounced up and down until Lyle told me to pull off because he
was about to cum.  I bent over, pressed my cock and balls back between
my legs and yelled, "Fire away."  I thought I was being scalded as
spurt after spurt of jism splashed on my well-fucked butt hole, my
balls, my cock and even part way up my backbone.  Then I felt Lyle's
tongue lapping it up.
	"Ummm, tasty asshole, Spunky," Lyle said.  "I can see why my boy
is so in love with it."
	"Thanks, but it's only tasty because it's been fucked by the
handsomest man on the planet."
	Ryan squeezed his nuts to keep from cumming.  I knew he felt the
same way I did about Lyle and he was aching to make love to his dad."
	"I'm ready for your load now," Lyle said.  "Turn around."
	I was ready, too.  Tyler's talented tongue had kept me right on
the edge the whole time.
	As I turned around I saw Lyle's cock and balls were draped over
the front edge of the sofa cushion.  Sweat glistened all over his
body.  The ripe scent of freshly fucked crotch odor wafted up into my
nose.  As he lifted his arms to grip my hips, I smelled the moist
armpit aroma like fresh dirt after a spring rain.  He leaned forward
and engulfed my dick.  Surprisingly, he kept going until he gagged.
Then he kept going.  He almost made it to the full eleven-inch mark
but he had to back up suddenly.
	"Easy, sport.  It feels just as good the way YOU do it," I
encouraged.  "Besides, I'm so close it won't take much."
	I eased my cock in and out and Lyle got a load a lot sooner than
he expected.  He coughed but closed his lips around my dick while I
continued to spew sperm in his mouth and down his throat.
	"Let me see," Ryan begged.
	Lyle tightened his lip lock on my cock to let me know he wanted
to deprive Ryan of such a visual delight.
	I pressed my finger under my balls to squeeze the last drop out
of my tube.
	"Thanks," Lyle said, smacking his lips two or three times.
"Almost as tasty as my own."
	I knew Ryan was dying for a taste of either of us--even Tyler's,
at this point.
	"Let's take a swim and then hit the sack.  It's gonna be a long
day tomorrow."
	While we swam, keeping a close watch on the two boys to make
sure they didn't touch each other, we talked about who would be
responsible for what, once the project got under way.
	"I'll bartend," I offered.
	"I'll keep the coolers filled with pop and beer," Tyler said.
	"I'll do that," Ryan said.  "You can make sure the food gets
replenished."
	"Tyler will handle the beverages," Lyle said.  "He offered
first.  Besides, you're not the one in charge around here."
	"Yes, sir," Ryan said, knowing he had been reprimanded.
	We got out of the pool and Lyle said, "We'll air dry and then
it's bed time.  Ryan, your punishment ends when you decide to give me
a kiss."
	Ryan hesitated spitefully.
	"Until then, you can sleep alone."
	Tears spilled as Ryan said, "Daddy, I love you so much and I
love Daddy Two so much, it just kills me when I can't make love to you
two."
	"Well," Lyle said, "I hate it when you do things I have to punish
you for."
	"I promise, I'll think about stuff before I do it ... and I'll
listen to Daddy Two when he tells me to listen to him."
	"That would be a first," I said lightheartedly.
	Lyle extended his arms and Ryan rushed into them.
	"Don't ever do that again, please, Daddy?" Rascal pleaded with
tears in his eyes.  "Not being able to touch you is the cruelest
punishment of all."
	I extended an arm toward Tyler and he crushed his body into mine,
wrapping both arms around my waist while I draped one of mine across
his shoulders.
	Lyle moved us all into a group hug before he said, "You two kids
can do whatever you want tonight ... EXCEPT come in our room."
	"Awh, Daddy!"
	"It's grownups night for me, okay?"
	"Okay," Ryan said none-too-happy but understanding, I think, what
his dad needed.
	After the boys went to bed, Lyle locked the bedroom door, levered
a chair under the bathroom doorknob and laid down.
	"I don't do this often, Dick, but I'd like you to fuck me."
	I took my time easing my cock into his almost virginal ass but
his grimace told me he was just barely tolerating the full girth of my
cock.  When I would stop pushing inward, he would tell me to keep going
because he wanted to get used to it all at once.  After I bottomed out,
I stayed balls-deep until he nodded his head that he was okay.  I
fucked him tenderly until I felt him use the heels of his feet to force
my hips into him more urgently.  Then, I fucked him like a savage.
	His moans and groans increased in intensity as well as volume
until he screamed, "Fuck me, you big-dicked son of a bitch!  Let me
know I've been screwed by the biggest and the best!"
	From down the hall, I heard a faint round of applause and some
giggling and twittering.  I'm not sure if Lyle heard it or not.  If he
did, he didn't react.  I laid pipe to him like I hadn't done since I
was in prison.  I came with a powerful blast up his ass and crumpled on
top of him as exhausted as I had been when I got off work.  I didn't
even have the strength to withdraw from his hole.
	We fell asleep in each other's arms, knowing Ryan would awaken us
long before the first "case study" arrived in the morning.

To be continued.

Thanks for coming back for more.  Maybe some of you readers know
of websites that buy stories.  If so, let me know.  For those of you
who did correspond, thanks so much.  I really like writing this story
and I hope you guys will continue to enjoy reading it. Thanks.  Keep
in touch with me at zestful@myexcel.com