Date: Fri, 4 Jul 2008 11:19:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Fifteen
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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. If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, 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 Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters. Want to read a couple of good stories? Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give". They are both excellent.
Chapter Fifteen: Second Time Around
Thursday, Christmas Eve morning, I woke to find myself pinned the same way
as the previous morning. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, with a teen
boy half-draped over each side of me. I always thought it was interesting
how much a sleeping child looked so angelic; then they would awaken and
spoil the whole image. Like the morning before, I kissed each boy on the
forehead and wiggled my way out from under them. Backing off the bed, I
didn't just kiss their cheek; I kissed and nibbled each cheek. When I
kissed Frank's and nibbled, he giggled. I thought he was awake and just
playing possum on me; I popped him on the butt which really got him
laughing. I just got up and headed to the shower.
The water had just reached the comfort point when I stepped under the
shower, set the head to a massage pulse, and closed my eyes. I didn't hear
the door open so much as felt the cool air hit me. When I opened my eyes,
there stood Frank -- surprise, surprise. It was always interesting to
look at Frank's expressions. This time it was a bit of a pleading look
that said 'don't send me away'. When he realized I wasn't going to make
him get out, the expression changed to 'what are you waiting for? Pamper
me'.
Stepping out of the way, the shower sprayed Frank. Frank stepped forward
and allowed the water to land on top of his head and cascade down his young
body. The water highlighted his youthful skin and the overhead light
accentuated the cut of his adolescent muscles. I just stood there and
admired him. After a couple of minutes I took his arm and guided him to
turn around, and pulled him into me. Squeezing shampoo onto his head and
shower gel over his shoulders, I began the pampering process. It only took
him a moment to relax and lean back into me. He was worse than when he was
a little boy.
Sometimes you can't help but get a little mischievous with your boys. It
felt good to have him leaning into me. The heat from his body was
stimulating, the silky softness of his skin- erotic, and his smell -
intoxicating. With the palm of each of my hands flat on his torso, I
slowly moved them up and down. When I came back to his chest I moved them
across and made a little circle over each nipple. I could hear his sharp
intake of breath. When my hands reached the bottom of his torso, I allowed
the second and third finger of my hands to follow the crevasse where thigh
met torso, tracing it as far down and under as I could. Frank didn't even
consider moving away from me.
After I teased him a few times with my fingers, the next time down and
under, I turned my fingers and used my nails to lightly scratch the side of
his scrotum; sensitive young fella there. Moving my fingers away from the
sensitive area, I traced a path back to his chest and flicked his nipples;
then I allowed my thumbs to gently massage each nipple, ending with a light
tweak that caused him to whimper. I had one horny young teen boy in my
hands. I smiled to myself as I watched his face and traced another path
down, and then around to his butt. As a little boy, he would giggle and
kick his legs when I used the tips of my fingers to tickle his butt. He
was still just as sensitive and did a little jig while he whimpered and
reached back to lock his hands behind my neck. He was now sporting a hard
one.
"Daa-aad," he whined and giggled at the same time. He tried to turn his
head, but I held him tight enough to prevent him from turning completely
around and continued to tickle his butt. "Daa-ad! That's not fair.
Stop!"
I smiled at the way he tried to be so assertive and demanding, but it all
came out wrong mixed with his laughter. There's something very special
about a child's laughter that can just brighten up any day or any
situation.
"Stop, Dad. Look what you've done." He twisted to show me his no longer,
quite so hard, boyhood. "I thought you were gonna let me get off."
"I'm not stopping you. You're the one doing the little jig in the shower.
Besides, haven't you learned that showing someone you love them doesn't
always mean letting them 'get off' as you put it. Sometimes, it's letting
them laugh with the person they're with."
I gave him a solid love pop on the butt and let him know it was time to get
out of the shower before we both turned into prunes. Besides, I was sure
his grandmother had plenty of things to be done to prepare for the family
Christmas and this was the last day to handle those last minute items.
Also, I needed to go out and do some picking up myself. I got out of the
shower; Frank didn't follow right behind me.
* * * *
Frank and I sat at the table with Mother, enjoying apple pancakes, when
Michael came more or less stumbling into the kitchen. The smell of food
must have awakened him, but he was still half asleep. I was proud of him;
he remembered to put his pajama pants on before walking out; no shirt, but
my boys had trained me to be thankful for small miracles. Mike sat in the
chair next to his grandmother, folded his arms and lay his head on the
table. Mother began rubbing is back.
"Mother, does he do this every morning?"
"Since we've been here," Frank answered, not waiting on his grandmother.
"Now, Richard, he's not doing anything you didn't do when you were growing
up."
"Mother, there's no way you would have let me sit at the table without a
shirt on or lay my head on the table. I can assure you he does not lay his
head on the table at home during a meal."
"I can remember when you were growing up, one of your favorite things was
to lay on the sofa and put your head in my lap so I could rub your back.
There were many times your father had to pick you up and carry you to your
bed. You're right about laying his head on the table. Just remember, at
the moment he's not home, he's here, and I'm exercising a grandparent's
prerogative to spoil him. You can address the issues when you return
home."
Frank was trying, without much success, to suppress his laughter. Michael
just looked up at me with his shit-eatin' grin. Mother just smiled and
winked at me. There was no way I was going to win this one, so I just gave
up and went with the flow. I sat there and watched Mother fix a plate of
pancakes for Mike and just slide them in front of him. Every boy needs to
be spoiled and pampered some and, remembering back to my childhood, I knew
there was always something special about a grandmother's pampering. I
think Mother was enjoying it just as much, if not more than, the boys.
"Mother, do you need anything from the store? I have a feeling we may need
to get it done early from the looks of those clouds moving in."
"I don't know, but we can check everything as soon as we finish breakfast.
If we want some home-made eggnog, I'll need a couple of things from the
store. Do you have any errands to run?"
"We have something to pick up at the mall. Also, I thought I might ride
around and try to pick up a short-stack of firewood. Those clouds I'm
seeing are supposed to be part of a cool front that's headed this way."
"How cold's it supposed ta get?" Frank jumped into the conversation.
"The weatherman said it could drop down to the upper thirties by tomorrow
morning and the same thing tomorrow night; highs in the mid-fifties."
"Dad! You're talking about building a fire for the mid-fifties?" My
younger son sounded as though he thought I might have lost it.
"No. I'm talking about building a fire in the evening, when it cools down.
Even if it is cool in the mid-fifties, there will be enough people here,
plus your grandmother cooking to warm the house. Now, suppose you two
young gentlemen finish your breakfast and help your grandmother clean the
dishes so we can get moving?"
"Dishes?" Michael was listening, even though he was ready to go into
shock.
"Yes," I replied. "You know, like put them in the dishwasher? It's the
same thing you do after every meal at home? I know your grandmother has
been spoiling both of you, but guess whose turn it is to show some
appreciation?"
"Yours?" Michael's mischievous side decided to come out. "We've been good
since we been here. Right, Grandma? We helped do the dishes every night
and we've run the vacuum and dusted some."
"You're bein' mighty generous with the 'we' routine aren't'cha, bud?"
Frank decided it was time to push Mike's buttons. I decided it was time to
stop this before anything got started.
"Okay, you two. It's good to hear you haven't taken total advantage of
your grandmother. Now, it's time for us all to pitch in. Let's go, poor
mistreated sons of mine; up and at 'em."
* * * *
"Good God, Dad! Look at the parkin' lot. Where'd everybody come from?"
The boys and I headed to the mall and then the store for Mother. I thought
Mother could get a lot more accomplished without the extra help from her
grandsons. At home, we always had the holiday buying and wrapping
completed a week or more in advance. That way we could sit back and watch
everyone else go crazy. We always made it a point not to take the boys
near the mall the day before Christmas; too many idiots out running around.
The boys were so engrossed watching the people running around that I felt
like a babysitter trying to keep up with them.
"Dad, look. Look at the people in that store. Everything's on sale and
they're just pickin' stuff up, lookin' at it, and tossin' it back.
Everything's all mixed up now. And those two ladies in there; man, they're
about ta get into it over some of that stuff. It always like that around
here?"
"I couldn't tell you, Mike. I usually make it a rule not to go near a mall
on Christmas Eve. This year, we didn't have a whole lot of choice. Just
watch where you're walkin' and stick close. Okay?"
When we entered the jewelry store, the saleslady spotted us and gave me the
signal that she would be with us in a minute. She was waiting on a
customer, so I let her know we weren't in any big hurry. I had read
somewhere that jewelry was a popular gift among those who waited till the
last minute to shop. We stood close, but out of the way, and became people
watchers. About half of the people seemed to be running around like they
were late for an appointment. In a way, I guess they were. For some
reason I thought about the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland. People
rushing around so fast just reacting to situations that they seemed to be
taking two steps forward and one step back, going pretty much no where
fast.
Frank and Mike got bored with people watching and decided to do some window
shopping while we waited. I noticed they had moved over to the area with
diamond stud earrings and assumed they were looking at something for
Mother. I hated to disappoint them and tell them Mother didn't have
pierced ears. I doubt they had ever thought about a lady not having
pierced ears. As animated as they were being, I assumed they found
something of interest. Frank was still laughing when he rejoined me.
"Hey, Dad. You see the earrings in that case? The diamond ones?"
"Yes, I saw them. If you two are thinking about your grandmother, remember
we already have a nice gift for her and she doesn't have pierced ears."
Frank gave me a questioning look for a moment, and then, the light came on.
"No, Dad; you don't understand. Mike's not lookin' for Grandma; Mike's
lookin' for Mike. He's tryin' ta figure out how to ask you if he can have
one." Frank grinned that mischievous grin of his that said he couldn't
wait to see how this worked out. I just shook my head.
Two months earlier, I probably would have been willing to shoot my older
son for thinking about wearing an earring. An earring was outside the
liberal attitude I was willing to show with my boys. After all the
self-examination and conscious exploring I had done, particularly after
spending a few days with David, I really didn't object that much. There
were a lot of young men, and teens, walking around with an earring and they
weren't the least bit offensive. When I was growing up, an earring was
associated with street gangs, drugs, punks, and just about anything else
negative you could think of. Times had changed; too bad I didn't find out
about this before I had bought them their Christmas.
"Mr. Geoghagan." The saleslady startled me out of my daydreaming. "Your
packages are ready."
Setting a large bag on the counter, the lady pulled out what was obviously
a jewelry box and opened it. The box contained the bracelet with the boys'
birthstones for Mother. The next package had the bracelet for Sean. I was
thankful the lady had the foresight not to pull out the other two packages.
We examined the items and approved them. The saleslady offered to wrap
them for us, saying it would only take about ten minutes. We thanked her
and accepted the offer.
"Dad, Frank and me didn't get Grandma anything just from us. It's all real
nice stuff from all of us. Can't we get her something just from us?"
I understood how the boys felt and suggested they get her a bottle of
Obsession. I wasn't really sure if Mother used that particular perfume,
but I remembered a lot of the ladies in the office saying they liked it and
I knew Mother would make a big deal out of it for the boys. They might
have a gift pack that would include some powder which I told them was
something ladies enjoyed. Mike wanted to know if it was like the baby
power his mom used on them. I told him not quite, but the purpose was
similar. They took off to buy perfume while I waited for the wrapped
packages. I was tempted to get Mike the earring he wanted, but decided to
wait and make that another special time for him. It didn't take long for
me to be ready to make our last stop and go home for some peace and quiet.
The grocery store was almost as bad as the mall. Walking around asking
myself why people waited till the last minute, I realized that I was one of
those people this year, planned or unplanned. It was interesting that
Mother had given us a list of eight items she wanted. Why did we walk out
with three grocery bags filled to the top? Okay, so I added a few things
like cashews and Christmas candy; there was a big sale going on.
Leaving the grocery, I spotted a couple of young fellas on the side of the
road selling short-stacks of firewood. Bingo. My shopping was complete.
* * * *
Bonnie arrived with her husband, Bob, and son Eric about mid-afternoon. I
was more than grateful, and so were my nerves. The boys were getting more
excited the closer we got to night-time and the following morning. They
were being royal pains. To make matters worse, we were in the process of
pulling out Mother's good china and crystal. Mike and Frank were more
interested in looking behind the dishes or in every nook and cranny where
we might have hidden packages. The older those two boys got, the more they
regressed. The way things were going, it was only a matter of time before
I would hear something break. I was thrilled when Eric came in and
distracted them. After luggage was carried in, I heard something about the
hot tub and the boys were gone.
Bonnie and I were in the dining room stretching the table and inserting
leaves. Without the leaves, the table comfortably sat six. There would be
nine for dinner. The trick here was to not set the ninth place until the
last minute. Mother had the answer when she pulled out the table cloth and
set the centerpiece and candles. The dishes were left stacked at one end
of the table and the silver remained in the chest. When Mother returned to
the kitchen, I finally managed to get my sister alone for a couple of
minutes.
"Did you bring everything?"
"Of course. Eric and Bob don't know what's in the van, but they'll find
out tomorrow; that's soon enough. Do you still plan on keeping Eric next
week."
"Unless you or Bob change my plans I do. Does Eric know?"
"I'm sure he suspects something, but I haven't told him anything. Bob
wasn't overly thrilled, but I told him to let the boy have fun with his
cousins."
Bob and I had always had a love-hate-indifferent kind of relationship. He
couldn't decide if he loved me or hated me and seemed to vacillate at will.
Bonnie thought most of it was because he would love to be able to
accomplish some of the things I've managed to accomplish and make the money
I have, and hates the fact that he just can't. I fully understood that he
had neither the brains nor the fortitude to even try. That understanding
is what allowed me to be indifferent towards him. However, I did try. It
had begun to rain and there was a damp chill creeping into the house.
"Hey, Bob!" I waited for him to at least acknowledge that he heard me.
"There's a short stack of firewood just inside the garage door and a couple
of cheater logs. How about a fire and I'll get us a little homemade
eggnog?" He didn't say anything, but he did wave his hand as he headed
towards the garage.
"Rick, did the boys go to the hot tub?" Bonnie asked. "It's a little
chilly outside; maybe I should go tell them to come inside."
"You might want to think about that unless you don't mind embarrassing
them." She caught on real fast.
"You mean they might be wearing a little less than necessary to be
presentable in the mall?" Bonnie was getting a good laugh now. "Did Mom
tell them what you used to do? Skinny dipping in the hot tub?"
"How'd you know?"
"Are you kidding? My girl-friends used to come over and we would stand at
that window over there and peek through the curtains. They'd stand there
forever waiting for you to stand up. You'd put on quite a show for them,
too. Didn't you ever notice how silly they acted around you at school?
They carried around in their minds a full color picture of you, totally
nude, that they could sit in class and drool over with no one being the
wiser. Would you like to know some of the things you did out there in that
tub that we got to see?" My sister, my own sister, had her friends over to
the house to spy on me running around nude. She was grinning from ear to
ear, and I was speechless!
"No, I don't want to know any details, thank you. I can't believe that
Mother let you get away with that."
"She didn't. When she caught us we had to stop. She also told me I should
confess to you what we'd done and apologize. So, consider it done."
"Consider it done? Twenty-five years after the fact?"
"You know the old saying. Better late than never." Bonnie was really
enjoying herself.
After suffering through my sister's revelations, I did get glasses of
eggnog for Bob and myself: I also added a little extra spirit to each glass
for medicinal purposes. We sat in front of the fire and exchanged small
talk. The truth of the matter was that the only thing he and I had in
common was my sister and Eric. How a great girl like my sister could hook
up with a complete asshole and then produce a kid almost as fantastic as
mine, I never understood. However, so long as Bonnie stood by him and he
made her happy, I put forth the effort to at least try and be friends.
Sitting there, talking with him, it was fairly easy to keep a good
attitude. All I had to remember was how upset he would be if he knew his
son was in the hot tub with my two sons wearing just his birthday suit.
Bob would freak; absolutely freak!
* * * *
The boys finally went to bed, but only after threatening them umpteen dozen
times to send all their presents back for a refund. That, and a threat to
hang all three of them by their heels in the closet and lock the door.
Knowing that three teenage boys would not be going to sleep any time soon,
we put all three boys in my room with instructions to stay there under
penalty of severe bodily harm. All three pranced down the hall making an
'ooooooo' sound to let us know they were really frightened. Bonnie watched
Eric and I could tell from her expression that she enjoyed seeing him cut
loose with Frank and Mike. If Eric tried that with Bob, his dad would have
to show him who was boss; the asshole.
Bonnie and Bob began unloading their van. The portrait the boys and I had
made for Mother, plus the individual photos, had been shipped to Bonnie and
made it to Mother's with no damage. Bonnie had even been nice enough to
wrap them for us. Bonnie also had a few of my boys' gifts, mostly clothes.
Mother had the toys and games. All of us managed to get the gifts arranged
under the tree. I had heard of families with kids that made stacks of
gifts for each child. The kids would come in Christmas morning and attack
the presents. We always thought you missed out on too much under that
system. When the kids were younger, there would be a couple of big gifts
just sitting beside the tree for them to get excited over. We gathered
around the tree and each person received one gift at a time, sometimes
possibly two people at a time, and everyone enjoyed watching the others
open their presents. There was nothing as magical as the look on a child's
face with a special gift at Christmas.
When everything was set, we all enjoyed a glass of eggnog, wished each
other a Merry Christmas, and exchanged funny stories about when we were
young or about the kids. That's what Christmas was about to us, the
memories and the kids. When we finished our eggnog, it was time for us to
hit the sack. There was no doubt the boys would have us up early and we
could hardly wait. I told everyone that I had a couple more small packages
in the rental for the boys and they could head on to bed; I would lock up.
Besides, with the boys in my room, I was left with the hide-a-bed in Dad's
study. That thing had to be forty years old, if not more, and I couldn't
wait to see how my back felt in the morning.
Retrieving the bag from the jewelry store, I pulled out the bracelet for
Mother, but decided to leave Sean's gift in the car together with the boys.
I also retrieved the gold chain necklaces I had for Frank and Mike. When I
pulled out the necklaces, I spotted the gifts from David. The CD would
definitely stay hidden. The vibrating dildo gave me some interesting
ideas, but I didn't want to chance someone seeing it.
Then there was that third package I wasn't to open until I had made the
decision to teach the boys everything; 'everything' being underlined. I
had decided that I would teach them, just not exactly when. Nor had I
quite figured out how to approach the matter. It wasn't something where
you could set a regular afternoon class. Opening the package, I was
grateful, more than grateful, that I was alone. There was a note attached
to the box:
Rick:
These are the tools my mentor used to teach me the pleasures that can be
yours if only you are willing to set yourself free. Even though they are
used, they should still function quite nicely. I hope they bring as many
good times and pleasant memories to you and your sons as they brought to
us.
There's also a 'how-to' guide enclosed, just in case. (ha ha)
Merry Christmas,
Dave
The box was actually a shoe box wrapped in brown grocery bag paper with
Santas and snowmen drawn all over it. Okay, I wasn't even going to guess.
Good thing, because when I opened the box all I could do, after recovering
from the surprise, was laugh. Dave had given me a training set consisting
of four dildos marked from one to four. One was the smallest, and four
looked almost menacing. Combined with the vibrating dildo, somehow I could
picture my sons in some petty crazy scenarios.
Yep, this could get to be a very interesting holiday and New Year.
End Chapter Fifteen
To Be Continued
Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com