Date: Sat, 08 Sep 2001 01:09:38 -0400
From: LJB <readersstop@netscape.net>
Subject: Joe's Dilemma Section 2 (LJB)(MB MM ist oral anal)(2/4)

The following is a pure work of fiction and is the property of the author.
If you are looking to get off quick, read something else.  This is a short
story presented in serial form of 4 sections and you'll be reading
background, before you get to any mind-blowing sex scenes.

If you are bothered by same sex relationships, read no farther.  This is a
story about the interaction of males with each other in a fanciful setting.
It's a story with some sex, not sex with some story.

Thanks to those who are encouraging me to continue with the presentation of
this series.

I do not usually acknowledge e-mails, instead using my time to write.
I do appreciate hearing from you.
Hope that you continue enjoying the story.       LJB

Joe's Dilemma

Chapter 2

Joe usually tried to sleep in a bit on Saturday mornings.  Not today.  He
was laying there, comfortable and warm in his big king sized bed, the first
treat he had purchased for himself when he had started to work.

"Look Mickey."  a young whisperer said.  "He's got a stiffy, just like we
get in the morning."

That had been enough to open his eyes.  Beside his bed was a line of boys.
Three in all, in order of height.  And the voice had been correct.  He was
flat on his back and a morning erection tented his covers.

"Morning, guys."  Joe said, turning onto his side.  "Everyone sleep okay ?"
They looked amusing standing there with their varied sizes, each draped in
one of his tee shirts.  "I suppose everyone's hungry."

"Joey says he's cold."  Mickey reported.  "He wants to know if he can get
in with you and warm up."

"Well, I don't have anything on right now," Joe admitted, "so I don't know
if that's a very good idea."  The two younger boys each whispered something
into Mickey's ear.

"We don't care."  Mickey said and all three of them jumped on the bed and
scooted quickly under the covers before Joe could do or say anything..
Joey backed himself up tight against Joe's chest and Johnny took the same
position with Mickey, the boys laying on their sides facing Joe.

After they were settled and still, they all talked for awhile.  Joe learned
that the boys were 11, 8 and 6.  They didn't remember their father, but Joe
suspected from the close resemblance of one to the other, they likely all
have had the same father.  Mickey said his mother had told him their Dad
was dead and there were no other relatives left from either family.  They
had started moving around from place to place before Joey was born.  He
also said he thought his Mom had started to drink about then as well.  Joe
asked them about school and what they liked to do.  He gathered quite a lot
of information from Mickey and Johnny.  Joey never once made a sound.

Joe suggest the boys go and get dressed.  He had left their cleaned
clothing on the couch in the living room area.  They all popped out of his
bed and ran for the living room.  Joey stopped at the bedroom door and
turned around to stare at Joe.  He went charging back to the bed and
climbing onto it, gave Joe a big hug, clinging tightly to his neck.  Joe
returned the hug, wrapping the little guy in his big arms.  When they let
go of each other, Joey turned to climb off the bed and Joe reached over and
tickled him on his sides.  The boy let out a gleeful cackle and quickly
pulled out of the big man's reach, climbing down and running out of the
room.  It was the first sound Joe had heard from the child's lips.

Pancakes were called for on a cold, crisp February morning like this.
Everyone was given a task to do.  Everyone did their task cooperatively and
in no time at all Joe was placing a stack of hot disks in the centre of the
table.  In the blink of an eye, they were gone.  Joe did not think he had
looked away long enough for the boys to put them on their plates, yet they
were gone.  He had a second set already underway and decided to start a
third batch right then.  By the time Joe sat down to eat he had made five
batches of pancakes, his was the sixth and like last night there was not a
morsel left.  He made sure everyone had a glass of orange juice and one of
milk as well.

After all was cleaned up and put away, Joe advised the boys he was going to
go to the grocery store.  He suggested they check in with their Mom and
then come with him, so they could get what they needed.  All three returned
in a very few minutes.  Mom was not at home, a situation that did not
appear to surprise or bother any of them.  Joe noted in getting ready to go
out into the cold and snow the boys had only jackets and their runners to
wear.  All the boys were excited about going out with Joe.  It was not
often anyone took them anywhere, even a place they might have gone
themselves anyway.

Joe had a very deliberate route in his mind when they left the apartment
building on Hill Street.  He went to the left and turned left again onto
Oxford Street.  They walked over two blocks and Joe spotted the little shop
which he already knew was there.  Tony was uncharacteristically not busy
this Saturday morning.  It was the weather, he complained to all the
customers who did make their way into his barber chair.  When Joe arrived
with his pack in tow, Tony knew he would have about an hour's work.  And
all that gorgeous red hair would certainly brighten up the floor of his
tiny shop.  He greeted Joe, having been in charge of keeping the big man
neat and shorn for these several years past.

"You have brought me a whole group of new customers, Joe."  Tony trumpeted
loudly.

"Starting at their age, Tony," Joe told him, "you could end up servicing
these boys far longer than most of your other customers."  Joe was glad no
one else was in the shop.  He felt much freer to interact with Tony and the
boys with nobody looking on.  Joey was the first lifted into the chair.  He
sat up tall on the board across the arms of the chair Tony had placed to
help lift him higher.  In short order, a crop of hair had been separated
from its owner and a little boy with a big smile could now be plainly seen.
After he was done, Joey went over and climbed into Joe's lap where he
stayed until both his brothers had been similarly shorn.

The change was amazing.  The group had become a presentable family of red
headed young boys out on a Saturday with their red headed brother or Dad.
Joe thanked Tony and paid for the job, receiving a discount for bringing
the boys in as a group.  They all walked from Tony's shop a couple more
blocks to the business area where a string of retail stores lined the
sidewalks.  Joe steered his crew to one store which bore the sign "DISCOUNT
CLEARANCE" pasted in the windows.  When a clerk approached, he told her he
wanted some help with runners and boots.  The next half hour was spent
sorting out what fit who, which colours didn't suit which boy, what it
actually was which made someone's shoes look `girlie', the benefits of
Velcro over tie ups and whether imitation name brands really had status
over no-name shoes.  All that having been settled, prized footwear was
clutched tightly by each boy as they transposed their positions to the boot
racks.  The process began again.

"Just under an hour."  Joe mused to himself as they exited the store.  Not
bad for three acceptable pair of runners and three pair of waterproofed
winter boots out of at least a million which he had looked at.  The old,
soaked runners and socks had been placed in a separate bag and three new
pair of socks and the new boots had replace them on the boy's feet.  Thanks
abound had been offered and Joey had unexpectedly wrapped his arms tightly
around Joe's upper legs and banged his head tightly into Joe's lap causing
an unexpected moment of sever pain.  The phrase, "It's the thought that
counts.", took on a totally new meaning for Joe.  The trail next took them
to the super market.

Joe watched the boys do their shopping.  Crackers, cookies, ready made
puddings, pop tarts, sugared cereal, cheese slices, loaf of bread, bag of
candy, quart of milk, potato chips, cheese flavoured popcorn and two
bottles of pop.

"Does your Mom eat this stuff ?"  Joe asked.

"No."  Johnny answered.  "She usually drinks everything she wants or goes
out."  Joe saw the sharp look that Mickey gave his younger brother.

"We are still sharing the truth, aren't we Mickey ?"  Joe asked.  Mickey
looked over to Joe and after a moment gave him an affirming nod.  "I think
you guys need to learn to eat better than what you have there.  I don't see
how you can make either chili or pancakes with any of those kinds of food."

"We don't know how to make that stuff, Joe," Mickey told him, "or anything
else for that matter."

"Why don't you get a few different items and I will show you how to make
some things."  Joe suggested.  The boys had a brief council among
themselves and then agreed.  Another loaf of bread, a dozen eggs, a pound
of ground beef, a bag of noodles and a couple cans of soup were added to
the boys cart.

Joe made some extra purchases today himself.  He added some extra fruits
and vegetables, three times the milk he normally kept on hand, an extra bag
of potatoes, some luncheon meats, extra bread and a dozen frozen TV dinners
for emergencies.  Joe also took the boys to meet Mr. Banks, the store
Manager and arranged for them to use the Social Service Vouchers when they
were required.  Loading their grocery bags carefully, they distributed the
items so each of them could carry two bags appropriate to their size.  Joe
was unanimously given the potatoes.

When the group finally trudged their way up the stairs to the second floor
of the apartment building, they saw the door to apartment 5 was ajar, so
the boys took their purchases into the apartment.  Joe took his things and
went down to his own door.  The slurred words of a woman could be heard
from apartment 5 out into the hall as Joe was unlocking his door.

"You tell him I'm sick and can't meet no one right now," the woman's voice
shouted out, "and I'm not payin' for no haircuts I didn't ask for either."
Joe went in and set his packages on the kitchen counters.  When he turned
around, the three boys were standing just inside his doorway.

"Mom's sick.  She can't meet you today."  Mickey told him with a sad look
on his face.

"She's drunk."  Johnny said.  "She's gone to pass out in her room."  Mickey
didn't even bother this time to try to stop him.

"About the haircuts, Joe, and the things you got us."  Mickey started to
say.

"Those are from me to you guys."  Joe told them.  "I believe I was already
given my hugs for them.  That's all I needed."  The boys stood where they
were not knowing what to say.  "Go and put your groceries away so nothing
will spoil.  By the time you get back, lunch will be ready."  Smiles broke
out all over as the three youngsters sped off to do as Joe had told them.


Sweat poured off his forehead, over the narrow white sweat band and into
his eyes making it impossible to look at himself in the mirror.

"Just two more reps."  he thought to himself.  His biceps and triceps
bulged and strained as he curled the free weight once..........then again.
"Enough for today I'm pumped enough that all these horny fuckers are going
to be showering hard this afternoon."

He looked in the mirror again as he examined his body from various poses
and angles.  He saw from the reflection that at least half a dozen pair of
eyes were following his moves, caressing his body with their gazes.  It
always made him horny, but then there were few things that didn't.  He
could feel his weapon trying to rise, pushing at the jock strap which was
holding it in place.  It was getting so hard it was starting to hurt, but
it felt like a good hurt to him.

Staring at his body in the mirror again he took stock.  Great fore and
upper arms.  Shoulders smooth and solid.  Pecs so defined you could
identify the individual muscle groupings.  Six pack abs over which pro
musclemen would drool.  That bushy, blonde treasure trail running from his
navel into his very tight shorts.  These shorts showed an ass shaped like
two solid melons and strong enough to crack walnuts between them.  His legs
were muscular, defined and covered with thick blonde hair.  And what
everyone wondered about, he already knew.  There was 8" of thick, cut cock
wound up in that straining jock and two meaty balls in a loose sac in there
with them.  He was 25, he was hot, he was horny and he was ready to fuck
anything with a hole.

After finishing admiring himself in the mirror he decided to go down to the
steam room for a quick sweat and see if he could find any action he could
really work up a sweat over.  Stopping at his locker, he stripped off his
shorts and jock, finally letting his struggling monster free.  It was stiff
enough to lengthen out impressively, but had not yet started to rise, so it
swung back and forth, sweeping the air aside as he strolled over to the
door of the steam room and entered.

"Just chicken."  he thought to himself after he looked around in the steam
room and found only a younger guy sitting up on one of the benches with his
towel wrapped round his waist.  He walked over to the corner and plopped
himself down on the bench, drawing one of his knees up so his foot was on
the bench and the kid could have the full view.  He leaned back with his
arms stretched out on the bench behind him and exposed himself completely.
After a couple minutes, he reached between his legs and started to stroke
himself, bringing the rigid lance up to maximum size and strength.  He
slowly opened his eyes and looked over at the boy on the bench.  The boy's
hand was under his towel and he was busy stroking while watching the
muscled man.

"Why don't you come over here and use some of the hand action on me ?"  he
posed to the younger man.  It was hard to tell how old this guy was, but he
estimated about 20.  He was pretty average, no definition, but a nice
little body and a cute face.  Slowly the younger guy stopped what he had
been doing and slid down off his bench.  He came over and sat next to the
stiff instrument, reaching out and taking over the stroking duties.  He ran
his hand up and down the inflexible shaft twisting the knob at the end
skillfully.  Its owner started to breath more rapidly.

"How be you suck on it for awhile." the muscular stud suggested.  The young
guy licked his lips and stared at the solid spike.  Leaning forward he
licked the head and ran his tongue back and forth using the rough surface
with skill to provide maximum stimulation.  "This guy's done this before."
our horny lifter thought.  "Often."

Raising up from the bench the muscled man stepped up onto the bench so his
steely shaft was even with his new partner's drooling mouth.  He leaned
forward and his tool slowly disappeared into the mouth and throat of this
willing receptacle.  Anxious hands grabbed his hard butt and pulled him
farther into the open and stretched cavity.  Together they established a
smooth even rhythm back and forth which had the sturdy muscleman starting
to feel the rumblings of a climax stirring in his swinging balls.

Both participants were far too busy to hear the door to the steam room
open.  The only sounds in the room were the hissing of the steam valve, the
slurping of the little human vacuum machine and the groans and moans
heralding the approach of a stupendous climax.  The first indication
anything was amiss was the widening of the eyes of the busy sucker as he
saw the approaching trouble.  Without any warning, hands grabbed the lusty,
muscled stud and pulling him away from the extra moist warmth of the hole
he was using, then knocking him onto the floor.

"Who the hell are you and what do you think your doin' to my baby brother
?"  the massive football type bellowed at the fallen muscleman.  His
equally large friend was standing just to the right of the enraged sibling.

"He made me suck on his little dink."  the youngster whined, suddenly no
longer an avid participant of their lascivious activities.  "Lucky he ain't
hung like you, Jim, or I might have choked."

"Well, well."  big brother Jim smiled to his companion.  "Guess we're gonna
have ourselves an interesting afternoon with the little muscle fag, unless
our new butt boy here wants to talk to the police about what he was doing
to my 15 year old brother."

That afternoon Jerry Wilder discovered that a conceited son of a bitch, who
was ready to let his dick run his life would eventually find his ass on the
line.  Willing or not, that ass could end up being the only way out of one
too many holes he opened for himself.