Date: Mon, 27 Jul 2009 15:16:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around 40

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  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, then why are you here?

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Matthew just posted a new short story that is
actually an observation and appreciation of one of the finest things we
have.  Look under adult/youth for "The Best Design Of All".


Chapter Forty: Second Time Around


After the body-building contest, life settled into a regular routine for
our household.  Regular being quasi-chaotic.  Four boys wanted the adults
in their lives to keep up with their sports activities.  The easiest, of
course, was Michael.  He lifted weights or did some kind of exercise to
build his body almost every day.  I knew he was with the twins and being
supervised by Billy, so I didn't worry about him too much.  That left time
free to run from track meets, to swimming meets, to baseball games.  Bonnie
and Mother would show up at the sporting events to support the boys, and
the boys did appreciate it.  However, it was important to the boys that
their father, or father figure, be there; it was important to me, too.

The routine wasn't totally peaceful.  It wasn't unusual for one of the boys
to come home and find Mike standing in front of a full length mirror, nude,
of course, practicing his posing routine.  I always thought he was admiring
his body and male gifts as much as he was posing.  I saw it often enough
that I usually ignored what he was doing; Sean did the same.  However,
there was no way that Frank could leave it alone.

Frank would walk in and see his brother posing.  Almost as though his mind
was programmed for it, Frank would start pushing his brother's buttons,
knowing his brother would wind up getting pissed off.  The two of them
would start bantering back and forth.  It didn't take long before the
good-natured bantering would get heated and I knew to stay close.  Before
it was over, Mike would get mad and holler at his brother "bite me,
dickhead".  Frank took the statement as an invitation.  He'd run up behind
Mike, fall to his knees, and bite Mike on the butt.  Mike would scream an
obscenity while Frank ran off laughing.  The big problem was that the rest
of us would also laugh.  I often thought it curious that Mike never
learned; maybe he didn't want to.

David came up for another three-day weekend two weeks after the show.
Fortunately, he understood about being there for the boys.  His
understanding was mostly a product of no one being there for him when he
was their ages and in school.  What ever sports event we were attending, it
wasn't unusual for one of the boys to approach us with a team mate, or
friend.  During introductions, the boys always introduced David as a friend
of the family.  If any of the boys' friends ever asked any questions about
David, I never knew it.

David's attendance at the sports events was important for me; a point I
didn't always express to David in the beginning.  That special something,
chemistry or whatever it was, never faded between us.  I wanted David to be
a part of our family.  His attendance at the sports events, as well as the
boys' easy acceptance of his presence, helped ease David into the family
role.  The issue of our age difference seemed to fade with time, it was no
longer so important to me; it had never been important to him.
Unfortunately, his age wasn't the only thing keeping me from saying
something to him.

"Don't look now, but I don't think you're concentrating on the game," David
told me as he leaned into my side.  We were watching one of Frank's games.

"Probably because I'm not."

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Are you kidding?  If anyone heard me, I'd probably be arrested.  But I
will give you a hint.  At the end of my dream there is a beautiful young
man standing in the doorway wearing only a white bathrobe.  He releases the
sash.  I slip my fingers inside the robe and make it fall off his
shoulders; then I pull him into me."

"Nice dream," he answers with a devilish smile.  "I think, maybe, someone's
been watching too many soap operas or reading too many stories on the
internet."

"Oh, really!  You know, if one works hard enough, and really wants
something, they can make their dreams come true.  I'm thinking about making
that particular dream come very true."

"Interesting.  Anyone I know?  Or, are you looking for someone to audition
for the part?"

"No audition necessary, but a dress rehearsal might be in order," I
answered as I slipped my fingers under his thigh and pinched him.  "But I
think we better wait until we are somewhere a little more private."

                                           * * * *

It was Friday night, which meant that I had four boys rather than the
normal three.  Dinner was a grilled London Broil with a tossed salad and
fruit salad.  As with any good steak, the only proper liquid refreshment
was either an ice-cold beer or wine.  The boys gave me their patented 'can
we' look and I told the four of them they could split two beers which they
promptly turned into three.  It was also one of those nights where I was in
the mood for something a little extra special to go with the steak.  When I
reached in the fridge and pulled out my personal treat, it started.

"Dad!"  Michael was already entering shock and I hadn't closed the
refrigerator door.  "You gotta be kiddin'.  You know how many calories are
in those things?"

"Michael, two things.  First, I don't care how many calories are in these
biscuits.  I want grands slathered in hot, melted butter and your
grandmother's homemade preserves.  Second, you don't have to eat any."

"But, Dad, I'm only lookin' out for ya.  You start consuming all those
calories and you'll start gettin' fat.  Next thing ya know, you won't be
able to keep up."

"Excuse me?" I said as I turned to face him.

"You know . . . . I mean . . . . well, . . ."

"Ooooooo," Frank interrupted with a smile. "Mikey's stutterin' his way into
a big hole full of trouble."

"Oh, bite me, asshole."  God, please, not again.

"I would, but I think you need rescuin' first," Frank answered as he
reached out and pulled his brother by the arm.

While Mike tried to resist his brother's pulling at his arm, I just stared
at him.  He got the message and left with his brother.  About that time
David and Eric walked in from outside with the grilled steaks.  They looked
at the boys and then at me; I waved them off.  David set the steaks down
and then looked over my shoulder to see me opening the can of grands.

"One word about my biscuits and all of you will be sleeping in the garage,"
I declared.  I could hear the other boys snickering behind my back.  A
youthful arm appeared around my side.

"Here, maybe a beer will help," Sean offered while trying to stifle a
laugh.

"OW!  ASSHOLE!"  The voice was unmistakeably Mike.  Frank came rushing into
the kitchen; we all turned toward him.

"What?"  This from mister innocent.  "He said 'bite me', so . . . ."

We all broke out laughing.  I laughed the hardest, thinking about the fact
that no one would ever believe what went on in my home.  I'm not too sure
that I did.

During dinner, I heard the snickers as I reached for a biscuit.
Deliberately, I smothered the biscuit in melted butter, not margarine.
Then, on the first one I spread a thick coat of preserves.  On the second,
I drowned it in honey.  Quite honestly, the sweetness of the preserves and
honey did not mix too well with the beer, but I wasn't stopping.

Mike couldn't leave it alone.  He kept making faces and gestures about me
getting fat.  Finally, I got up and he reacted too slowly.  Just as he
stood and had cleared his chair, I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him
around.  He was surprised when I tossed him over my shoulder.  He hollered
all the way outside until we hit the pool and he had to stop hollering or
drown.  The others followed us and it turned into a wild free-for-all.

After a little while I was feeling more than a little tired; I was
exhausted.  I also felt a little bloated and I knew it was from the
biscuits.  The beer mixed with the biscuits was a mistake.  It would be a
cold, cold day before I admitted it.

                                           * * * *

The warm sting of a hot shower felt good.  I had already played my games
with David as I soaped him up and cleaned him; now it was his turn.  No one
could give a bath like David.  He knew just when to barely touch me, pause
for a deep passionate kiss, suckle a nipple to the bursting point, leaving
it ultra sensitive, or to let his fingers dig into tight, tired muscles.
When he finished, I was always reduced to putty; very contented putty.

"By the way, I'm supposed to tell you the boys want to go to the beach
tomorrow," David told me.

"That's no problem, we can go.  But, why didn't they say something to me?"

"You misunderstand.  The boys want to go to the beach, with me; not us."

"What?  Why?"

"I think they are looking at it as some kind of male bonding.  I'm also
guessing that they want to ask me some questions without you around to stop
them."

"David, I'm not so sure I'm happy with them . . . ."

"Relax.  I think I can handle four teenage boys.  Besides, we both knew
this point might come.  Look at it like this.  You ask them questions and
snoop into what they do to protect them.  In their minds, that's what
they're doing.  I think it's kind of cool.  We'll head out in the morning
and be back by mid-afternoon.

"Now, you stand there and rinse off for a minute, then join me in the
bedroom," David spoke softly with his mouth next to my ear.  His breath was
a gentle breeze running through my ear, sending goose bumps and waves of
lust coursing through my body.

I did as he asked.  I didn't know what he had planned, but I knew it would
be something both of us would enjoy.  When I stepped towards the bedroom, I
had only taken a couple of steps when I saw him standing in the doorway,
leaning against the door jamb, wearing a white robe.  He untied the sash to
let the robe fall open and I had to smile and laugh a little.  He was
playing out my fantasy from that afternoon at the ballpark.  However, David
chose to add his own little twist.

When the robe fell open, just ever so slightly, he didn't wait for me to
come to him and rub my hands over his shoulders, making the robe fall to
the floor.  David decided to do one of his little sexy dances.  He began by
rotating his hips.  Each time his hips came forward, he thrust them out a
little harder until his manhood was peaking out of the opening in his robe.
Soon, he switched to an undulating motion that caused his entire body to
move like a wave.  With each movement below his waist, his manhood swung
out.  I noticed that with each appearance it also became a little longer
and a little larger.

He turned so his back was three-quarters exposed to me.  He pulled the robe
back to reveal the smooth, tanned flesh of his hip, and then one cheek.
Just before he exposed his luscious valley, he let the robe fall back into
place and began that undulating motion again.  David knew how to control
every muscle in his body to tease me into a state of raw need, and he
didn't hesitate.

When his back was toward me for only a moment, I stepped forward and
wrapped my arms around him.  Turning him towards me, I let my hands run
over the soft flesh of his shoulders.  The robe fell as I picked him up,
cradling him in my arms, and carried him to the bed.  When I lay next to
him, he quickly maneuvered so that he straddled me.  He looked at me with
those mischievous eyes and then leaned down for a kiss.  When he nibbled on
my ear, he whispered,

"Those biscuits make you too fat and lazy to keep up?"

That did it.  I quickly threw him off me and onto his back.  As I rolled
over to straddle him, he wrapped his legs around my waist and locked his
ankles behind me.  I leaned down and whispered into his ear,

"Think you can keep up with an old man?"  He grinned.

When I leaned down, he anticipated that I was coming in for a deep kiss
that would have my tongue massaging his tonsils.  At the last moment, I
shifted to the side and began licking his neck.  His taste was fabulous, so
fresh and youthful.  He whimpered like a puppy.  I knew it was a sensitive
area for him and took advantage.  After I licked all around his neck, I
marked him.  I opened my mouth and sucked in as much of his neck as I
could.  When I couldn't suck any harder, I sucked some more.  He cried out
and whined and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and continued to
whimper.  Our normal rule was to not do anything that might leave a visible
mark and embarrass the other at work.  This was definitely going to leave a
mark and everyone would know he was mine.

"Oh, Gaahhd, yeesssss," he hissed.  "Ummmmmm . . .uuummmmm . . ." he
whined.

I lifted my head and looked at him.  His need, his need to have his lust
satisfied, his need to be loved and held and to belong, all shown through
his eyes.  Neither of us said anything as I grabbed his legs and pulled
them apart.  He unlocked his ankles with no resistance.  I placed his legs
on my shoulders and pushed him back, nearly doubling him over.  Nothing was
said as I reached down and suckled his nipples.  His cock, already hard,
jumped and I felt the warm wetness between us.  I continued to suckle,
rocking gently.  My cock moved up and down his crack as I continued to
rock.

Before I moved off him, I had to lean down once more to smell him.  His
body exuded freshness, youth, vitality, and need.  A need to be satisfied
and a need to satisfy.  I was ready, but at my pace.  I shifted backwards,
but kept control of his legs so he remained almost doubled over.  Moving
down a little, I smelled his groin.  The mustiness begged to be taken.  I
tongue bathed his still hardened shaft as I rolled each testicle around in
my mouth.  Nibbling down his perineum, I found the most sensitive place of
all.

"Yeah . . .like that . . .ooohhh gaaaahhhdd . . .fuck me, Rick.  Take me.
Make me beg for it.  Fuck me 'till we both pass out."

He begged me to take him, hard.  For some reason he wanted to be possessed
that night.  He had a desperate need to be needed, but more, to be loved.

And I did.

                                           * * * *

When I awoke the next morning, I was alone in my bed.  I listened to try
and hear if David was in the bathroom, but it was too quiet.  I rolled over
and looked at the clock.  It was almost 9:00!  I couldn't remember the last
time I slept that late.  The boys would, but not me.  I got up and
hurriedly brushed my teeth and shaved.  Afterwards, I realized that I also
needed to shower.  The evening's activities had left some dried reminders
on my body.

As I walked into the kitchen, I spotted a note on the counter:

"Gone to the beach.  Coffee pot ready.  Call Grandma.  Back by
mid-afternoon.
                                                      Love, Us"

Informative, I guess, and definitely not too wordy.  It was a strange
feeling.  The boys didn't usually take off like this without me.  Suddenly,
I couldn't decide if they were growing up or I wasn't needed, or both.  The
house was quiet, too quiet, and felt empty.  I turned on the coffee and
called Mother.

"Mother, I had a note from the boys telling me I needed to call you."

"Well, I hope it doesn't always take a note from the boys to get you to
call."

"Mother, you know better.  Why do I think something's going on?"

"What do you mean by going on?"

"Mother, you know what I mean.  I have this strange feeling the boys have
been talking to you about something."

"The boys call me quite often and we talk.  Where do you think you'd like
to take your sister and me for lunch?"

"Wherever you'd like to go," I answered, still trying to recover from the
surprise.  I didn't know that I wanted to take them to lunch.

"I read in the paper that they were opening a new outdoor arts and crafts
market in Riverside.  I'd like to see it.  Maybe we could find a nice
little sandwich shop over there."

"Okay.  When would you like to go?"

"Well, since it's outside, it might be best if we tour the market before
the sun gets too hot."

"I'll be over in about an hour, Mother, and we'll go.  I'll also expect you
to tell me what's going on."

"See you then, Richard."

She ignored my last statement which confirmed to me that something was
going on.

                                           * * * *

Riverside is the old historical, or at least one of the historical,
districts in the city.  They had organized an outdoor market mixed with
arts, crafts, flowers, and fresh vegetables.  This was something new and,
on a pleasantly warm spring day, a good way to spend some relaxing time.
Since picking up Mother and Bonnie, nothing had been said about why I was
there and it was obvious nothing was going to be said until Mother decided
it was time.

We took our time wandering through the market.  It was located between
Riverside Avenue and the St. Johns River.  Surprisingly, it was situated
underneath the interstate which meant most everything was in the shade.  As
we approached the river we spotted a number of entertainers.  There was a
group of kids gathered around a living statute.  I watched him for a while
and was amazed at how long he was able to go without blinking his eyes.
Then, he opened his eyes.  He had been standing there with his eyes closed;
his eyelids painted to look like his eyes.  The group of adults and
children around him broke into laughter and his basket began to fill with
donations.

The closer we got to the river, the steeper the incline in the topography.
The ground had been terraced with retaining walls and cement tiles in place
of the grass.  Each wall had a planting area along the top; each filled
with what appeared to be fresh plants.  I followed Mother until she sat on
a bench and watched an improvised stage.

"It looks as though they may have a concert or some type of entertainment.
Why don't we sit here for a few minutes," Mother stated as both a
suggestion and a statement of what we were going to do.

"Richard, I saw a vendor on the next aisle selling hot dogs with coleslaw.
I haven't had one of those in years."

I wasn't dumb, I knew what she expected and I did it.  When I returned with
hotdogs and drinks for the three of us, we sat there and ate quietly until
Mother had consumed about half of her hot dog.

"Richard, you know why the boys wanted to go to the beach with David today,
don't you?"

"Not really.  The boys seem to be talking more to you and David than me at
the moment.  David seems to think it's some kind of male bonding thing."

"Then I would say that David is being quite perceptive.  The boys are
wondering why you haven't asked David to move in with you."

With that statement I stopped eating.  Mother and I had talks in the past.
I was surprised that the boys would broach the subject of a gay
relationship with her, though.

"Richard, I do wish you would stop thinking of me as being so naïve.  You
and I have talked in the past and I've told you more than once that all I
cared about was your happiness and that I would support you in whatever
choice you made regarding your life.  You know that I am aware the boys run
around without clothing as much as they can and I'm not totally naïve,
although I'll admit to not knowing much in the way of details, about other
things that teenage boys do, particularly when it comes to their
pubescence."

I almost choked on my hot dog and forgot to breathe for a long time.
Mother had never talked so openly about sexual tendencies, at least not
around me.  Bonnie was sitting on the other side of Mother, about to roll
off the bench, laughing so hard.

"Richard, don't look so shocked.  I've just always allowed you to think
that I was naive because it seemed to make you happy for some reason.  Your
father was the same way, which makes me think it must have something to do
with the male ego."

"And if you think that any of us thinks any of those boys is still innocent
at this point, then you're really insulting us," Bonnie added.  "I asked
you to let Eric spend time with you because I knew that you could, and
would, give him the guidance he needed.  What surprises me is that you seem
to need guidance from someone to get you where everyone else already knows
you want to be."

                                           * * * *

When I got home, the Waggoneer was parked in its usual spot.  Before I
entered the house, I stopped to listen, trying to figure out where the boys
were and what they were up to.  It was quiet, so they were either inside,
or outside and not being rowdy.  When I walked in I spotted the boys
sitting on the patio.  They all seemed to be talking to David.  I went
straight to my bedroom to get comfortable.

I headed for the patio to join the boys, but stopped short.  David was out
there doing one of his sexy dances.  Michael and Eric were standing next to
him trying to imitate the moves.  Michael did a fair job, Eric did great.
Now, why was David teaching the boys that kind of dance?  Then I thought
back to the conversation I had with Mother.  I walked outside and, without
breaking stride, picked up David and tossed him in the pool.  I turned to
go back into the house.

"Hey!" David sputterd as he spit out water.  "What'd I do?"

"Nothing!  That's just it.  I did it," I growled heading back inside.

"Ha!" Frank called out.  "Dad's just got a lecture from Grandma.  It was
one of 'those'.  Right, Dad?"  All the boys laughed, knowing what Frank was
talking about.  All four of them had been on the receiving end at one time
or another.  One of 'those' was a talk where you weren't sure if it was a
discussion or you were being reprimanded.  You just knew that it was one of
'those' talks where Mother was trying to make a point.

David came running inside, chasing me.  He was dripping all over the floor.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

"Hey, don't blame me.  I'm the one that's been patient."

Without another word, I placed my hands under each of his arms and lifted
him, pinning him against the wall, holding him as I devoured his taste and
tried to meld the two of us together.  Finally, I had to break for air.

"Damn, maybe we should've asked your mother to talk to you sooner."

I looked at him.  What did he mean by 'we'?

"Your mother and I had a talk over a month ago.  She told me that she had
told you more than once that she understood your choices and that she would
always love and support you so long as you were happy.  She said she'd
support me, too.  Richard, she was giving us her blessing the best way she
knew how. She said you wouldn't say anything because you were afraid of
influencing my job choices and school."

"She's right.  I wanted you to make your own choices about what you wanted
to do and when.  I didn't want you changing everything you've worked for
just for me."

"David, has anyone ever told you how dumb that sounds?  Do you really think
that my work would be more important than the person I want to spend the
rest of my life with?  You are a bit thick, you know that?"

I lifted him higher on the wall and looked up at him.

"David, we want you . . . . I want you to be part of our family, my family,
always."

David wrapped his legs around my waist and pulled himself into my arms and
kissed me passionately.

"'Bout time," that was Frank, my smart-ass son.  "We were runnin' outta
ideas."

I let go of David and took off after the boys.  They ran out the door
screaming and giggling like a bunch of first graders.  David was right
behind me.


End Ch Forty
To Be Continued

Comments welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com