Date: Wed, 16 Apr 2014 20:11:52 -0500
From: mt <mtnuda@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter One Twenty-eight

Disclaimer/Reminder: The following story is a work of gay fiction although
based on non-fictional events.  It contains sexual acts involving males of
high school age as well as older males, not to mention family members.
There are scenes of involuntary humiliation and punishment, some of them
graphic.  If this subject matter is offensive to you or if you are too
young to be reading it, please exit now.  Now kid!  You have been warned.
This story is the property of the author under U.S. copyright laws, and may
not be used elsewhere without written consent.  Otherwise enjoy it to your
hard's content.  Emails expressing interest or wishing further information
can be sent to: mtnuda@hotmail.com.

AND IT MERITS REPEATING: NIFTY NEEDS YOUR SUPPORT!  It takes a great deal
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(NOTE: This story involves a "prequel" regarding the O'Toole family
mentioned in Chapter Ninety-Seven.  Several readers expressed an interest
in hearing more about the character of Pat O'Toole.  Although these stories
are stand-alone, the reader is strongly advised to begin at the beginning
all the way back in Chapter One.  By reading Chapter Ninety-Seven alone (or
for that matter Chapter Ninety-Eight for Coach Don Farbersten), the reader
will have a better idea who the characters are and how they came to be in
that crowded room with Pat being forced to explain to his roommates all the
ordeals he had been forced to endure to bring him to that northern
crossroads.  That being said, we continue with the story from Pat O'Toole –
and friends!



128

	All day at work Mike O'Toole ran various scenarios in his head,
trying to make those mismatched puzzle pieces fit into something might
result in something other than his life coming apart.  And no matter how
hard he forced the various elements together, he always came up with
disaster after disaster.  Even if he somehow got all three of his sons in
the same room at the same time, how could he even begin to broach the
subject?  Honesty was not going to cut it!  Hey guys, how you all feel
about taking turns getting fucked by your old man?  And we take pics doing
the nasty!  Oh, and somehow I gotta shoot three loads in one hour!  You
guys cool with that?  Or the other part about having a witness to the
damning deed.  Hey you guys, this here's my friend from high school or big
Otis from down the street and he's going to watch you all get buttfucked?
Doesn't that sound like a total hoot?  So he scratched Vince and Otis off
the list fast.  That left that Brunner kid next.  So he tried the scenario
of, hey Mike how about you invite your friend Tom over one night to watch
you and me doing one of our "private workouts" like we did that one time.
Oh and you don't mind taking it up the butt in front of him and oh by the
way, Sean and Pat will be there too!  Oh and when we're finished I'm sure
he'll report all the details back to his dad, the coach!  Yeah right!  So
he was forced to scratch him off the list as well.  That left Sean's
friend.  Say Sean how about you invite your little friend over and he can
take pics of me taking your hole!  Oh you probably didn't know I already
fucked both your brothers and now it's your turn, huh?  And those two will
also be there to see you bend over and get your ass ripped open, huh little
buddy?
	He almost did not have lunch his stomach in knots just thinking
about what a horrible position his son – no not his son those coaches! –
no not those coaches he himself! -- had put Mike in.  But for all he
wracked his brains, he could not figure out how anything Mike might have
done at school could possible lead to even half of this?  He saw the forms
and they looked legit so at least that part seemed above board.  But what
happened yesterday in that practice room!  If that other father and son
team had not been there, Mike would have walked right out of there,
scholarship or no scholarship.  That was until he saw his son and that
donkey-dicked black kid on the mat, naked and fully erect the both of them,
then he realized this whole situation was no laughing matter.  No if they
went through all the trouble to get those two to do... what?  Some triple-x
exhibition for... whom?  Their two dads?  And was that to intimidate them
into going along with their sick program or... Mike remembered how boned up
that dad, Mister Jackson? had gotten watching his son and Mike's son doing
their porno wrestling.
	Mike spent the rest of the afternoon kicking himself for letting
himself get sucked into their disgusting worsening trap.  Because it seemed
to him somehow someone somewhere had gotten wind of Mike's little "kinky
side".  And the only way they could have would be Mike Junior!  So he
decided that no matter what, he and his big-mouth son needed to have a
little talk about him blabbing their shared dirty secret all over town!
Because if word had gotten back to Mike's coaches, then it was only a
matter of time before the cops were ringing his doorbell and dragging him
off to jail!
	He drove home getting angrier and angrier, and more terrified in
the process.  Then it hit him; if Mike Junior was the big blabbermouth, why
had Pat been there?  And why was Pat so enthusiastic about doing naked
wrestling with him – with half the world watching on top of it! – if
Mike was the source of the problem?  Unless Mike had told Pat!  No matter
how he wrestled with that, he could not imagine Mike going to Pat and
telling him that dad had buttfucked him and he had let Pat know all the
filthy details!  No that made no sense either.
	Supper Monday night was unusually subdued.  When his wife asked the
kids about school only Jennie answered.  And boy did they hear about every
single detail of every class and every person and every argument and who
was or was not or might be dating who and who was going to this dance and
that game and blah blah blah until he just tuned it out.  But he kept his
eyes on Mike who looked like he had just come from a whupping.  With Pat
not far behind.  He wanted to ask them why but the dinner table was not his
first choice for such a conversation.  So he resolved to get one or both of
them aside later and have a long and serious chat.  Because even if Pat was
okay with all that had happened yesterday, he did not seem to be okay
today.  So he adjourned to his den to see who might come in to talk, but
after a half-hour the quiet room began to throb louder and louder with his
increasing heartbeats.  So he went up to the boys' rooms but they were both
out for the night.  His wife said they were just going to the mall for a
half-hour and would be back in plenty of time to finish homework.  So much
for getting the three of them together for... no!  What was he thinking!
This would never work!
	He went down the stairs loudly announcing his arrival.  He expected
a flurry of activity from Sean hiding evidence of whatever banned
activities he did not want to be caught doing.  Instead he found him and a
friend quietly playing video games.
	"Hey didn't mean to bother you buddy" he examined Sean's friend
once he was at the bottom of the stairs.  He was slightly bigger than Sean
but once he turned to face him he recognized him as the curly-haired
freckle-faced kid Sean played with now and then "hi" he said to him.
	"Hey dad" Sean got to his knees and stretched "it's okay.  Timmy
here never loses so – "
	"Not my fault you can't shoot worth sh – oops sorry Mister
O'Toole" the kid's freckles suddenly were swamped by bright red blushing
"well you can't" finishing their game.
	"Timmy?" Sean's dad tried not to look puzzled.
	"Geez dad!" Sean got up and yawned "Timmy's been over here like a
million times, remember?  He's the one who broke my bat when – "
	"Don't remind your dad about that, geez Toole!"
	"Of course I remember your friend.  How ya been Tim" he came over
and ruffled that mophead of hair in bad need of a cut "how's your dad?"
	"He's still working nights.  Sometimes I think he's a spy or
something he's never home" and that's when it hit Mike.  Timmy was Timothy
Wagner!  The Timothy Wagner from the note!  His dad, Dick Wagner was a
circuit judge assigned to – fuck!  They crazy enough to think I'm doing
anything with any of my sons with this kid within ten miles and about to
report it back to his dad the judge?  Are they totally nuts?
	"So you guys playing video games?" Mike was the concerned parent.
Concerned but not nosy "nothing too violent I hope" well maybe a little
nosy.
	"Nope sorry dad.  Unless you consider ten car pile ups violent."
	"Only because you can't steer right."
	"Only because you cut in front of me!" and the two bickered back
and forth until Mike yelled,
	"Hey okay you two, no fighting."
	"We ain't fighting" Tim stuck out his tongue "just a gentlemen's
disagreement.
	"So aren't there some other videogames you two can play
without... disagreements?"
	"Well I wanted to do... that" Tim pointed at the collection of
exercise equipment in the corner "but Sean The Con says we can't."
	"If my brothers were here we could..." Sean bit his lip giving his
dad a sly glance "but you always tell me I can't unless there's somebody
older around and – "
	"I'm older" Tim countered.
	"Yeah ten months, big deal."
	"You're here now" Tim looked at Sean's dad "now can we?  Huh huh?
Can we can we huh?"
	"I dunno..." Sean looked nervous and excited at the same time "dad
doesn't want to waste his time with a bunch of – "
	"C'mon Mister T – I mean Mister O – I mean..."
	"You can call me Michael... Tim..." he felt a warm wave like
something ominous sweep through the room.
	"Timmy okay?" Tim said "my mother calls me Tim, and my dad calls me
Timothy, but only when I'm gonna get it – "
	"Like when you cheat at videogames – "
	"I wasn't cheating you just can't – "
	"Okay okay okay guys" Mike whistled "I get it okay?"
	"So that means you gonna join us – I mean like supervise us –
"
	"Yeah dad join us!" Sean chimed in "c'mon you always said if I
asked then I could use the equipment and..."
	"What do you do when I'm not here?"
	"Ask Pat or Mike."
	"And if they're not here?" he wanted to paint him into a corner.
	"Then I wait til someone gets home."
	"Where are they tonight by the way?"
	"Out shopping" Sean smirked "somebody's birthday – "
	"Oh fuck I forgot – shit!" Mike just swore in front of his son
and his friend.  Big breach of house rules.
	"Your dad swore!"
	"Okay dad now y'gotta" Sean shrugged like it was nothing "I won't
tell if you stay now.  Okay okay okay?"
	"And Sean knows I keep secrets, right Sean?"
	"Um-m-m, er right" but Mike saw the nasty glare Sean gave Tim "so
what we doing?"
	"Something really heavy and – "
	"Okay you guys, it seems I really DO need to supervise you" he went
over to the weight bench, a bit disturbed how dirty it was.  Not soiled but
grimy and... were there a few slippery spots?  At that point he was so glad
the boys had their own laundry facilities down here.  The less the wife
stumbled on, the better the whole house would be.  He set the bench up for
shoulder exercises "okay I know guys your age think it's all about big
chests and big arms – "
	"Yeah like yours!" Tim chimed in.
	"Well... um... but you also need to develop and work on ALL the
muscle groups so you don't end up looking like something out of a bad comic
book..." pointing at his son "okay Sean you go first."
	"I hate these.  You never see any results" but he took the seat and
started to pull down the bar like it was killing time "see?"
	"Okay gimme twenty."
	"Twenty?" Sean gasped "I never – "
	"Then you complain about no results huh?" but he stood there as
Sean yanked his twenty.  As soon as he finished Tim was all but jumping up
and down,
	"Me now me now!" all but pushing Sean off the bench.  As soon as
Tim did it was like a race to see if he could do his twenty in half the
time.
	"No no no you're not doing it right.  Both of you were not – "
	"Huh?  How?  What's wrong with how we did it?" they both asked over
and over.
	"So us Mister... Michael" Tim nodded "you do it then."
	"Go on dad, show us."
	"It's not a race, you don't see how fast you can it" Mike loaded
more weights "you do it slowly like... this" and with a slow smooth stroke
he lowered the bar and then held it for five seconds at chest height.  Then
he slowly let the bar return to its position above him at arms length.
	"Do that again do that again" Tim was eating it up.  So Mike
obliged until he felt the show was over.  He directed his son back onto the
bench and after readjusting the weights again had him do it.  The right way
this time.  Then Tim tried only to realize slower was more deadly.  After
fifteen his wiry arms were showing signing of giving out.  So then in was
legs, then back, then he had them do the kettle balls until they were all
dripping sweat.  At that point they all heard,
	"Michael I need to talk with you upstairs" echoing down from the
kitchen door.
	"Boys" Mike joked wiping his face with a less-than-clean towel
"think twice before you get married" and he strode back up the stairs.
	"Why are you sweating?" she asked him as soon as he cleared the
door.
	"Showing Sean and his friend some routines on the weights."
	"Those boys and those weights!  They better not hurt themselves!"
	"That's why I'm there making sure."
	"Well I need to go out" she tossed over her shoulder "because
someone forgot someone's" thumbing to the floor "birthday present like he
was supposed to yesterday."
	"Sorry hon" he shrugged "but didn't Mike and Pat...?"
	"Well if they're as forgetful as their father..." she blew him a
kiss "they were supposed to be back by now.  As long as you're here, I
don't mind leaving Sean home alone."
	"He's with his friend" Mike protested.
	"Twice as much trouble to get into on their own as far as I'm
concerned" and she was gone.  Their daughter was at volleyball practice on
Mondays so the house was empty for a change.  And that got Mike thinking.
If Mike and Pat came home soon, could he possibly, was there some remote
chance of... fuck!  He could here himself saying, okay guys we got one
hour!  Get naked and get ready to get dicked!  He laughed a bitter laugh
knowing this could not – could never work.  He grabbed a bunch of
chilled water bottles and headed back downstairs.  When he turned the
corner his eyes went wide.
	"Sean!"
	"I know you said but" he and Tim were both doing curls with
dumbbells.  Without their t-shirts!
	"Sorry Mister.. Michael, it was my idea."
	"Don't get mad, dad, okay?  Just this once?  It's always so
hot... down here..." Sean held the t-shirt not sure if it would go on or
stay off.
	"Well guys..." he looked at the two of them "if you promise me on
your honor not to say anything to anyone.  That includes those brothers of
yours, maybe just maybe we can just once."
	The two of them hi-fived and continued making those biceps stand
out.  Now that Tim was stripped to the waist, Mike had a better impression
of just how filled out and toned the kid was getting.  And the way his blue
veins popped out from those pale yet developing muscles was so much
different than Sean's more rounded and slightly fuzzed torso.  But what
kept making Mike's return again and again to Tim's bare chest were those
wide and full pink nipples.  It almost looked like they had been pinched or
rubbed to make them look so swollen and reddened.  Or else it was just his
pale skin by comparison.
	To get his mind off all this fucked up flesh Mike then made them do
leg curls.  The first one flat on his back was his son Sean.  Mike told
himself he was watching his form, and not developing lewd thoughts looking
at his tight little butt.  And when it was that Tim's turn, he almost swore
the kid was flexing his butt muscles intentionally.  When it was his turn
he was glad to be facedown, if for no reason than to hide his growing
"problem" in his jeans.  When he felt more decent he had Sean take his
turn.  He had done maybe four before he yelled and twisted himself off the
bench and down to the floor moaning and rubbing his leg.
	"What happened what happened Sean?"
	"I hurt something!" he moaned trying to move his leg to make the
pain stop.
	"Does it hurt here?" Mike's hands were up and down Sean's thigh
carefully checking for a pulled muscle.
	"There and up little higher no inside more" Sean directed Mike's
hands until they were rubbing his inner thigh until he was almost touching
his balls.
	"No biggie, it's just your quad muscle" Mike gave it a long stroke
with his two thumbs then stopped.
	"No keep going keep doing that I think it's helping" Sean closed
his eyes as his dad continued to rub him higher and closer to his balls,
pushing the bottom of his shorts higher in the process.  As he continued
Tim was the first to comment,
	"Geez, Sean you're getting a boner."
	"No I'm not" Sean moaned but now even Mike could see how the
material at his crotch was definitely getting a bit puffy.
	"Wow, Sean not like you're hiding it" Tim's voice caught a few
times in his lowest register.
	"Even if he is" Mike looked at Tim, or rather his shorts "it's no
problem.  Guys get erections all the time" and there it was.  Tim's
cut-offs were definitely showing something pushing out one pants leg.  Mike
cleared his throat and looked away, but he could see Tim's eyes bouncing
between Sean's crotch and his.  Mike knew he should stop but maybe this is
how things might develop.  If such a coincidental event was thrust at him,
he would be a fool not to see where it might lead.  So he returned his
attention to Sean's thigh, and after a few strokes allowed his thumb to
brush up against something warm and covered with damp cotton.  The way it
buckled when hit by his thumb, Mike guessed it was his right ball.  He
hoped Sean would point out what he doing and tell him to stop but the more
he banged into that roundness, the more Sean's erection became obvious.
When there was no mistaking its shape Mike withdrew his hands and told Sean
to lie flat on the bench.  As soon as he did his tent was blatantly obvious
"see?  Guys get erections and you don't see me getting all bent outa shape
about it" he handed two barebells to his son "try some flies now with
these.  It's keep your mind off – "
	"Your boner" Tim grunted.
	"Your sore quad" Mike looked at Tim.  If he had been blushing
before, now it looked like he had been sprinting for an hour.  His entire
chest had a ruddy blush going all the way down to his outie.  And they way
he just let that tube push out his pantsleg made Mike wonder about why his
name made it onto the shortlist "it's hot down here, you're right" Mike
went back towards the furnace and checked the setting.  As he thought it
was at seventy-eight.  Which is exactly where he left it.  He returned to
where Tim was replacing Sean on the bench "you guys are not kidding about
the heat down here.  Guess it's because it's getting cold tonight so the
furnace has kicked in" and Mike did it.  He pulled his dress shirt free
from his jeans and yanked it and his t-shirt free.  He stood there stripped
to the waist, seeing Tim's flies grind to a halt as he watched his chest
rise and fall "remember Sean just between us guys okay?"
	"Okay" Sean gulped.  Seeing his dad half-naked was shocking enough.
But seeing him act like his boner and Tim's boner were not to worry was
even more shocking.  Sean knew this had to be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
And because it came mere hours after this very room was witness to a sexual
explosion caused Sean to think all the wheels had come off the train!  So
when his dad took his turn on the bench, you can bet Sean for one was
watching those jeans looking for the least hint of where this might lead.
	The three finished their sets of flies and Tim of all people was
quick to suggest they do squats next.
	"Okay guys, good suggestion but..." Mike pointed at his jeans "not
wearing these I can't" and he headed over for their dryer "maybe I can find
some of Pat's..."
	"Just take them off okay?" Tim ignored Sean's loud gulp "hey I mean
we're already wearing only shorts" indicating his cutoffs and Sean's
running shorts.
	"Yeah well shorts and underwear are not the same – "
	"What's the difference?" Sean shot a look at Tim like: cool it
already! "except the lame print and the price tag?"
	"C'mon guys" Mike knew things were shifting big time.  And those
two were up to something, he could almost smell it "you never see guys at
the gym working out in their underwear" he tried.  But Mike knew he needed
answers.  And the big question seemed to be: why was this Tim kid so
cranked up to get Mike to lose even more clothes?
	"You ever see some of those compression shorts?" Tim ignored Sean's
glances "they're like sprayed on!  They don't hide nothin!"
	"I don't know guys" Mike could not shake the voices in his brain
now urging him to see where this was tumbling "don't you think it's a
bit... um... suggestive?"
	"It's cool Mister Michael – "
	"Okay just Mike okay?"
	"Okay Mike" Tim went for the kill "you saw us with boners.  Seeing
you in your Underroos is not going to give me a heart attack okay?" and
Mike had to laugh.  But it was a staged laugh to hide his nervousness.  But
he had to push this further; he had to see if his suspicions had any basis.
	"How old are you again?" Mike saw the tossle-haired kid for what he
was: the class menace.
	"Too old to get goofy seeing you in your boxers, okay?" looking at
Sean "and I'm seventeen okay?"
	"They flunked him a year" Sean laughed "now you know why!"
	"Sean the Con!"
	"Tim the Flin—"
	"Hey remember what – "
	"Okay okay fine you win" Sean held up his hands.
	"We're cooling off here Mist – I mean Mike.  Yes or no?"
	"Y-y-yes" Mike crossed the line, knowing he was crossing the line,
knowing how dangerous it was to cross the line.  But it was a line that had
to be crossed if he was to get the information he needed.  Could he do it?
Could he have sex with his youngest son?  With that redheaded sexfiend
right there watching?  And somehow involve his innocent son Mike and
no-longer virgin son Pat in the same sick activities?  Only one way to find
out if he had the balls to do it!  Before he came to his senses he turned
his back on the two and pulled down his jeans, kicking out of his shoes in
the process.  When he turned back, he was wearing only his socks and his
very loose plaid boxers.  As he expected – or feared or hoped – both
sets of eyes were on his package "not a word to your brothers about this!
Or anyone we clear on this?  Anyone!  You swear?"
	"Wow" Tim could only say that after his tongue caught up with his
eyes.
	"Geez dad..." Sean did not know where to put his hands "you look
like..."
	"Old outa shape..."
	"No like really... um..." Tim wanted to say smoking but setting for
"I wish my dad was..."
	"Okay like you said time's wasting" so Mike loaded the bar for Sean
and stood behind him lifting the weights onto his shoulders.  Sean sailed
through all ten with style, even though it took all his concentration to
ignore all that warm flesh behind him.  After all Sean had been doing
squats for a long time and had the leg muscles to show for it.  And it was
never too early to start spring training as far as he was concerned.  Then
it was Tim's turn.  He was not as balanced at Sean so Mike had to steady
him a few times, each time he did he felt more and more heat steaming up
from that flesh in front of him.  When he finished Mike did not need to
check him below the waist to tell either the squats or all the physical
contact caused that long tube to return.  Then it was Mike's turn.  He
added more weights and curled the bar up to his chest, then jerked it to
his chin.  When he widened his stance he felt it: it was a small pop but
the implication was as huge as if his car had crashed through that basement
window!  Because as he feared and suspected one of the snaps of his fly had
popped open! Could he go through with this?  Would he be so brazen to...
He continued his squats telling himself it was not intentional but those
voices in the back of his head told him the moment of truth had arrived.
When he lowered himself down again, his knees widened even more and pop!
there went the next snap.  Now he could feel the cool air on his damp pubes
and heard the gulps of reaction from two hoarse throats.  He squeezed his
eyes shut, not daring to see the reactions on either of their faces,
especially his son's, when he lowered himself down again and felt the last
snap pop open.  And as he straightend out, he felt the air on his cock, now
hanging free of the fly.  He told himself to stop, he knew he needed to
stop, everyone sense of parental decency told him to stop but he continued.
He lowered himself again, fully exposed and now the pounding heartbeats
began to travel downwards and fill out his meat.  As he raised himself up
he knew he was totally exposed, and growing by the minute.  Still he did
not stop, eight, nine, ten, eleven squats until by the time he lowered the
bar off his chest, he had to roll it forward so it did not bang into his
now rapidly hardening cock.  He looked down at himself pretending surprise
"oh sorry about that" he tucked it back inside his boxers, but did not
rebutton the fly "guess I got carried away.  Sorry if that grossed you –
"
	"Damn Tool" Tim was almost panting "you so won that bet!"
	"Wagner shutup!"
	"What bet was that?" Mike stood there grabbing his water bottle.
And making no effort to cover his tented boxers "Sean?"
	"A stupid bet, don't mind him!" Sean glared at Tim.
	"Stupid bet you won" Tim appeared to have been stroking himself
during the show.  Because now his cock was so hard it was even leaking
where the head was pushing out one side "we bet – "
	"Cool it!"
	"We bet which dad had the bigger cock" Tim was on a roll "and man
did you ever win that one.  How big is that?"
	"I dunno" Mike was out of control now he had turned the corner.  He
reached down and even outlined the length through the cloth "I never
measured it" he lied "so how do you know how big your dad –"
	"We saw him in the changing room at the Y okay?" Sean cut him off.
	"But he wasn't hard..." Tim's tone of voice was all over the place.
But Mike heard it, heard something almost like disappointment in it or so
he told himself.  Damn he could not believe what he was really doing this.
It was like he was drunk or stupid or crazy or just out of his mind.  But
now it was actually happening; he had exposed himself to his son and his
friend.  And as he feared neither one was sprinting from the room.
	"Oh" was all Mike needed to say.
	"Neither are you M – Mike" Tim gave himself another
re-adjustment "right?"
	"No I'm not totally hard" like standing here in front of these two
teenagers talking about his cock was normal.  He realized these two might
just do it; they might be coersed into something like,
	"That I'd like to see!" Tim blurted out.  He also was not thinking
straight, or else his cock was in the pilot seat as well "have you Sean?"
	"Fuck no" Sean also blurted out, knowing the tone of his voice
totally betrayed him "my dad – ".
	"Your dad's not cut like you" Tim could only see one thing, like
Sean's dad's junk was now taking over the whole room.
	"Actually all my sons were circumsized" Mike's mouth was sprung
wide open, loose and dangerous "but no, I'm still intact."
	"My dad's cut like me" Tim again had to adjust himself "I never saw
a real uncut cock, not in real life."
	"Sean aren't there guys in your school that are uncircumsized?"
Mike suddenly had an itch, right under his balls.  The way it made his cock
bob was nothing short of obscene.
	"One guy" Tim answered for him "but that's not even the same, like
his dick is like one inch but the skin is like two.  Totally gross."
	"You think foreskins are gross?" Mike was going for broke.  Now the
itch was going from his navel down to his pubes, taking the waistband down
with it.  As he continued to push the boxers down, his cock again popped
free of the fly "is this gross?"
	"Dad..." Sean moaned, losing his own battle to keep his hand away
from his prominent hard "c'mon..."
	"If this is grossing you out I better stop" and the boxers were
back up and that cock again half-hidden.
	"Wow, just five seconds okay?" Tim knew Sean's dad could only say
no.  But he had to try.
	"Five seconds?  Of what?"
	"Lemme see it okay?  Just... um look.  Okay?"
	Mike did not answer.  Neither did he meet Sean's eyes.  What he did
do was yank his boxers down and completely off.  Standing there in just his
socks made him look even more blatant and exposed.  He put his hands behind
his back as Tim came closer.  When he felt that hand grab him right behind
the crown he just closed his eyes.  When he felt that hand begin a slow
back and forth motion, sliding the foreskin up and down his now shiny wet
head he just kept his eyes closed.  When he heard the rustling of clothing
and then a quick slapping of flesh on flesh and then felt a second hand on
his now iron-hard cock, he cracked open one eye . There stood his son and
his friend with their shorts around their knees, one hand on his cock, the
other rapidly jacking off.  Suddenly Sean realized why he called his friend
Tim the Flynn.  He meant to say Tim the Flint.  Because standing like a
rock-hard cannon pointing at the ceiling was the hardest cock Mike had ever
seen!  It was plastered against his vascular belly, the wide head smearing
his navel with pre-cum when Tim released it to use his other hand to
massage Mike's balls.  Mike lowered his hands and was considering returning
the favor.  But which cock would he grab first?  The white flint tower or
his son's almost as impressive cock sticking straight forward.  He was just
about to pick one, imagining how this would look when Pat and Mike came
down the stairs, praying they would join in and then maybe just maybe
	"Mike we're home!" followed the slam of the kitchen door, his
wife's voice echoes down the stairs.
	"I'll be right there!" Mike screamed and yanked on his pants and
shirt so fast it looked like a blur "goddamnit get dressed!" he whispered
back at the two as he tore up the stairs hearing his wife already on the
second step "don't come down I'm coming up!" trying to button the shirt
fast.
	"Honey why are you dressed like that?" she noticed immediately
"weren't you wearing a t-shirt and – "
	"They're in the wash" he gasped "here let me help you" in his
stocking feet he struggled to help her bring in the bags from the car.  If
he was not totally busted he could not tell the difference.
	He finished bringing in the bags and boxes, noting several that
could only be the game equipment for Sean's birthday.  He nodded his thanks
watching her every reaction.  When he had brought the last in and locked
the car doors, he looked at her,
	"What?"
	"You need a shower" she wrinkled her nose.
	"I was making sure Sean and his friend were not hurting themselves
with that equipment.
	"I'm glad they do their own wash.  It's like armpit central down
there..."
	"I'll get cleaned up" feeling he just might have dodged several
bullets at once "and – "
	"Oh by the way" almost talking to herself "I ran into Mary Muller
at the store tonight..."
	"Who?" Mike tried.
	"Mary?  Mary Muller?  Your friend Vincent's wife, remember, from
church?"
	"Oh that's right" he was visibly sweating now.  Vince and Mary
Muller suddenly appearing out of the shadows like a cheap circus trick?
What the hell?  Having Tim Wagner appear in his basement he could pass off
to coincidence, but now his wife just "accidentally" running into Vince's
wife was more than coincidence.  This was getting weird and creepy and
scary and Mike was not buying it for a second.  Neither was he taking any
of this well.
	"She told me to ask you to give Vince a call before nine tonight.
I promised her – "
	"Fine."
	"You have the number?" she went to her purse "I think – "
	"Yeah I got I got it" he swore under his breath "now unless you
need anything else I'm gonna make sure Sean ain't breaking anything down
there" and he was down those stairs in a flash.  He found the two demons
hovering over Sean's computer, whispering about something "guys..."
	"Oh hi dad" Sean quickly closed some screens leaving one showing
ESPN highlights of some kind "we were just – "
	"Okay you guys about before..."
	"Sean already read me the riot act okay?  I promised him I would
apologize because it was all my fault – "
	"Hey, it was my responsibility that things got... um... y'know
x-rated and – "
	"But nothing would have happened if I would not have pushed it,
okay?  So Mister... um Michael I promise it won't happen again and I
promise I won't say boo to anybody about anything, okay?  I'm sorry that –
"
	"Okay okay, it's not the end of the world and as long as we all
agree nobody I mean NOBODY ever hears about any of this, and you guys
promise – Sean you PROMISE! nothing ever happens down here that you
would not want your mother or worse your sister to witness.  Are we clear
about that?  Sean?"
	"Yes dad I promise okay?  Not a peep from me!"
	"Or me big Mike" Tim giggled.
	"That's the kind of thing I don't want – "
	"Okay I promise I'm sorry" and the two went back to watching
college football highlights or something.  Mike looked around the room,
seeing how the two had straightened out everything, even hearing the sound
of the washing machine in the background.
	"Okay not too late, remember it's a school night" turning to leave
"and no laundry after ten remember – "
	"Okay dad..." Sean turned looking very meek "and thanks dad.
Really I mean it thanks."
	"Okay buddy" and he was back up the stairs.  He made his way to his
den and dreading it more than he expected looked at the clock seeing he had
a few minutes to make that call.  He dialed the number, from memory he
noted, and sure enough his friend Vince answered.  There was a moment of
awkward small talk before the two were talking and shooting the shit like
old times.  Then Vince surprised him by inviting him over Wednesday night.
Something about a favor he needed and did not have time to go into on the
phone.  Mike mentioned Wednesday was his son Sean's birthday so suggested
Thursday instead.  Vince could be a real hardass as Mike remembered so they
agreed on a time – on Thursday night – and Mike hung up.  The smell
of his nervous sweat hung in the air like a guilty verdict.