Date: Mon, 5 Aug 2002 06:01:27 -0700 (PDT)
From: PsychoPuppy <psychopuppy21@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tool-Men/In Dreams Chapter 5

  The following is a fictional story involving fictional characters from
the television series "Home Improvement."  It is intended for the
entertainment of consenting adults in the privacy of their homes, and if
you object to or offended by descriptions of sexual acts between consenting
adults, do not read any further.  The sexual orientation and practices
depicted in this story do not in any way suggest or reflect the actions or
orientations of the characters or the actors who portray these characters.

  The phrases Home Improvement, Tooltime & Binford, and all characters are
trademarks of and copyright The Walt Disney Company, Touchstone Television
and Wind Dancer Production Group.

  I want to make something perfectly clear; this is an erotica series. I
did not write this to be a quick porn story, or any other cheap form of
entertainment. Some installments will be mostly dialogue and scene setting,
others will be filled with hot man sex. If you are not interested in
reading the actual story, then just skim ahead to the "good parts-" but
know you are missing a lot of intrigue and realistic plot lines. Well, that
is to say, I have attempted to keep the plot line relatively true to the TV
series and reality in general. Anyway... enjoy!


Tool-Men
By PsychoPuppy

Dedicated to Robby

Part 5:

In Dreams

Far above the cloudless Michigan sky a sea of ebony black churned silently,
its depths broken only by pinpricks of twinkling starlight. The full moon
loomed alone in the void, her silhouette maintaining the same silent vigil
as she had for millennia beyond measure. It was the type of night which
inspires poets to write great sonnets, which brings vivid musings to
artists and performers. It was the kind of night which tempers the heart
and soul, giving rise to new desires... and stroking the flames of old.

It was a night from which dreams are woven.

***

 Marty moaned again, a low reverberation from the deepest part of his young
throat. Tim was rocking back and forth slowly in the lad's tight young
butt, maneuvering his ridged tool around the rim of Marty's prostate like
some arcane pleasure wand. Marty looked up into the face of his older
brother, the mature youth who was crouched above his exposed flesh atop
their fathers work bench. `Oh god this feels so good.' He thought for the
hundredth time.

Tim was really getting into it tonight. It had been at least a month since
their parents had gone out for the weekend, and their two older brothers
had taken their girlfriends up to the lake. Which, of course, meant Tim and
Marty had 3 days and 3 nights all to themselves... and they were not
going to waste a second of it.

`Slower...' Marty whispered, grinning as Tim's busy fingers kneaded his
supple rump like two hot orbs of dough. `Tim... slower...' he repeated
as the older boy opened his eyes and stretched his hands, parting Marty's
ass like the red sea before sliding his thick length in with a slick
motion.

Tim froze there, with his younger brothers legs wrapped around his waste,
barely moving his prick while it pressed directly into the throbbing
prostate within Marty's slimy hole. Their breathing was getting deeper and
deeper, their heart beats growing stronger, causing each brothers prick to
beat in a steady-- almost painful-- rhythm. Marty exhaled a deep breath,
and rested both hands on Tim's shoulders while his hips began to shiver
from need.

`MMmmmm' Tim moaned, `M-Marty, I cant...' he paused to swallow a deep
gasp of air, `I can't hold on much longer.'

Marty raised his head to kiss his brother firmly on the mouth, pressing
their parched lips together in a tight seal of passion. Sweat drenched
their bodies and ran in slick rivers over their developing muscles. Held
this close together, locked in a pose which made their bodies one, every
hair which graced their youthful forms twined together like serpents.  The
slickness of their sex, the stench of their love, was almost overpowering-
as any young man in his early twenties might notice in the throngs of wild
love making. Uninhibited by society's judgment, knowing only their passion,
they reveled. Releasing everything to it. Embracing it.

The kiss broke and Marty lowered his head onto one of the pillows, gazing
up at Tim whose face was etched with a nearly agonized expression. His
older brother still held both of his ass cheeks in a strong grip, while his
hips primal dance had slowed to a crawl. The only sensation Marty felt was
the pleasurable stretch of his hole, and the wonderful spasms Tim's prick
was causing while nestled against his inner love button. Moving both hands
slowly over Tim's back, to cup both sides of the older boys face, Marty
smiled and nodded. `Yes...' he whispered softly, and Tim began to groan.

Tim's hips started bucking harder with ever increasing urgency, soon
withdrawing all but his cock head from Marty's twitching ass before diving
back in fully. His balls were banging against the younger mans crack,
aching so good as his orgasm rapidly built. Marty stared transfixed at his
brother, both hands pressing and stroking the sides of Tim's flushed
face. Marty's breathing became ragged, chaotic, as moans and grunts
replaced any words his raw throat might have been able to produce. Tim was
no better, grunting in his ape-like voice over and over, a primal mantra
revived from the days when cavemen fucked on the open planes.

"AAarrrrrr, Aaaarrrrrr AAARRRRRR!" Tim grunted as he plunged into Marty's
aching butt for the final time, collapsing over his sibling while jet after
jet of young man juice rocketed from his spent body. Whispered moans
wracked Tim's chest, escaping through dry lips while Marty lightly kissed
his wet face. The younger boy's cream-laced ass milked his brother's
sensitive prick of every last pearly white drop until the minutes became a
blur.

They lay like that for quite some time with Tim's dwindling, yet still
plump, penis smacked in Marty's swollen pucker.  The scent of their fuck
funk hung almost tangibly in the air, yet neither cared. Their arms worked
around each others body, their hands caressing every inch of naked and
slick flesh, and their moans speaking anything which yet needed to be said.


With a contented murmur Marty rolled over in his single bed in the dark
motel room. Earlier that night he and his bitch of a wife Marie had fought
worse then usual. He, of course-- ever the bad-guy-- was forced to leave
home and sleep in a god forsaken flee-infested truck stop motel. Things at
home were quickly going from bad to worse. Sure Marty had loved Marie while
she was pregnant with the twins, and he supposed he loved her before
that. But their love was... well, he supposed deep down it was not `real'
love. Not like the love a husband and wife were supposed to share. And with
all the bickering lately, he was beginning to truly regret marrying
her. No, scratch that. He was beginning to curse the day be met the wench.

"Tim..." He whispered in his sleep, as he had almost every night for the
past few months, "I love you."

A single milky drop of sperm leaked from the tip of his rigid cock, adding
to the damp spot in his already dark boxers.

***

He was 19 years old. It was easy to recall the exact age, since this memory
was from his birthday. After the family get-together his dad had taken him
out to a real bar for a `mans' beer. Not that Tim hadn't consumed his share
of beer long before his 19th birthday- but this time was special. The two
of them had driven the few hundred miles to Canada, where the drinking age
is 19, and his dad was buying. The hours slipped by that night like so many
drops of the bitter yellow liquid. The booth they shared in the back of the
trucker bar just off highway 109 slowly filled with smoke like an Irish
moor, creeping around the edges of their table in snaking tendrils. They
laughed that night, and talked, were serious and honest, were clowns and
buddies. It became obvious, just as the darkness of midnight was giving way
to the dawn, that they were also drunk... but not so drunk as to deny
their sorry state.

The room number was 21, the drinking age in most parts of the U.S. It's
funny what a guy takes the time to remember.  The water in the hotel room,
rented in the back of the truck stop, was too hot. It steamed the whole
room like a sauna, but left your skin feeling totally refreshed. They both
had showers, and then sat on the bed, talking and telling stories.  Tim
watched his dad that night-- laughing, sharing, being open^×truly
watched him. He was so strong and confident, yet in all the years of living
together Tim had never really `connected' with the man who sired him. The
same man who worked every day of his life to keep his boys fed and clothed
and sheltered and safe. But tonight it was all different.

The mood turned somber as Tim's dad finally worked the nerve to voice
something he had been fretting to mention for so long, but knew in his
heart must be said.

"I know Tim." He spoke quietly.

Tim knew he knew. He knew that his old man had seen Marty and he going at
it on more then one occasion. He knew that his dad watched from the
doorway, but never mentioned anything about it. It was an unspoken secret
in their relationship; at first it had terrified Tim that his dad knew,
then it confused him why he had never said anything. But now... now he
was talking. The only emotion which pulsed in Tim's body was that of
curiosity.

"I know." Tim replied, waiting for a response.

His dad nodded before drawing a deep breath. They were both leaning back on
the king sized bed, each wrapped in a simple white towel. Tim noticed the
cold for the first time and drew his arms across his lightly furred
chest. It was nothing compared to the mat of dark shag which blanked his
father's strong chest and trailed down to his belly... and the area
beyond.

"It's... not something that..." The older man paused for a moment,
squinting his eyes before going on, "It's not something I want you boys to
feel... confused about. I had brothers too and... well... just don't
let it mess up the way you really feel for each other. I mean, don't...
don't grow old to hate each other. Be careful. Um...You know?"

Tim nodded, looking at his dads closed eyes. The older man opened them to
stare back at his son. Tim leaned over on an impulse and hugged his father
for the first time in many years. Truly hugged him. His dad hugged back
with force, pulling Tim up and over his strong body, pressing the young man
close to his raw flesh, caressing his back and shoulders with both powerful
paws.

"I love you dad."

"I love you."

Tim leaned his head back after a long moment to look at his dad once
more. They smiled at each other, a goofy, drunken smile which promised a
secret to be kept.

Then they kissed.

* "MMmmm" Tim sighed as he rolled over in bed. Jill was awake and sighed
softly to herself, a little more then irritated by her husbands obviously
enjoyable dream. She elbowed him in the side. Hard.

"Oh! I'm sorry hun, I thought you were having another bad dream..." she
whispered in her most apologetic voice.

"Oh... um... ya," The Tool-Man croaked, glancing at the digital
clock. 2:03am. "Ya, I was. Thanks Jill. Good night."

It was a long time before Tim worked back into sleeps good graces, but when
he did the older Mr. Taylor was waiting.  *

The kissing had started light, but was now the passionate lip-wrestling
better suited for two drunken buddies in the back of a van; not a father
and son in a cheep motel room. But there they were. Somewhere, in a
solitary, partly-lucid area of Tim's young mind a realization of the
situation flickered dimly. However, that lone part was buried below
mountains of alcohol soaked arousal.

A bulge had grown between the two men, pressing against one another's
crotch even as the grinding of their hips loosened the towels which
concealed their nakedness. Tim was the first to pull his scant covering
free, letting it fall to the ground like the useless trash it was. Below
him, his dad simply allowed their respective motion to open his own towel,
until both men's tools were firmly pressed against their clean, hot
skin. The coarse hair of their pubic regions meshed together, heightening
the scent of their fresh sweat even as the older mans chest hair caressed
his sons. Tim worked his hands over the man's strong shoulders, worshiping
every muscle through the leathery flesh. The feeling of his dad's fingers
dancing down his back to each ass cheek sent shivers up through his spine,
ending in explosions of forbidden pleasure when his dad gripped those same
ass cheeks with both strong hands and pressed Tim's hips further to his
own.

`MMmmm' Tim moaned, breaking a long kiss and drawing a shuddered breath.

With a gentle thrust, Tim's dad moved him into a kneeling position, placing
his drooling pecker only a few inches above his fathers, while his arms
rested against the older mans chest.

Tim raked his fingers over the man's shaggy chest, down to his father's
sex, and gripped the 7" tool which had forged his own body. It was like a
steel rod fresh from the forge, burning into his palm with all the
intensity of flame wrapped in velvet. His dad's head leaned back and he
groaned, long and low, a manly sound from the bowls of his soul. Tim
stroked it a little, moving his stretched hand slowly upwards toward the
big mushroom head which peaked from the solid shaft. It was a force of
nature- solid as stone and dripping lava. He formed a fist around the head
while his dad continued to mould his young ass, his fingers caressing each
drop of the precum which dripped from the object of his most secret
fantasies. It made a thick lube to massage around the top of the engorged
prick, sending waves of erotic pleasure shooting throughout the older mans
body, causing his legs to move back and forth while his breathing grower
deeper and labored.

In time Tim worked his soppy hand over the thick shaft, pumping in long,
slow strokes while alternating the pressure of his grip. At times he
squeezed like a vice, at others nothing more then a feather touch. Slowly
he began to encompass the plump balls as well, breaking from the penis
entirely while simply nudging and prodding the love pods which held the
seed of his own birth.

Sweat drenched them both now, their respective breathing heavy, the scent
of their sex flowing through the air like so much beer. Tim's eager young
dick dripped a steady stream of clear, warm fluid over his old mans pecker,
constantly adding to the lube his hand made use of. Finally the elder
Taylor could no longer stand it. He placed both hands on his son's
shoulders while bucking his hips up and down, grunting softly with each
thrust. Tim lowered his other hand to his father's gonads while fully
fisting the older mans meat, squeezing as if to choke the life from it. His
father's grunts became full throated growls; his eyes fluttered open and
closed as his mouth gasped in ragged currents of sex tainted oxygen.

"AAARrrrrr ARRRrrrrr AAARRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Tim watched, mesmerized at the spectacle, and was finally rewarded by the
first long spasm of the thick cock which fucked his young hand so hard. It
swelled like an engine piston before vomiting forth a long, white stream of
paternal sperm, its
 gushing liquid half smattering against Tim's chest while the rest landed
against his father's belly. The older man grunted again, and another shot
raced forth, exceeding the length of the first by what seemed to be
minutes. Tim gasped as his dad gripped his shoulders hard with each thrust
of this hips, while he felt each muscle in the mans body tense and contract
while the jolts of pleasure overpowered him. The time which existed from
the beginning to the end of the orgasm was lost to a sluggish crawl, a
distorted sense of existence which only the two men could ever truly
know. Finally the spasms stopped, and it was only minutes later that Tim
released the hold on his dad's still mostly-hard cock. Cum lay in thick
soupy vines across the older mans chest, long ropes of it on Tim's own,
each one slowly dripping down to his young crotch.

His dad leaned forward a moment later, long after his breathing had
returned to relative normality, and looked into Tim's
 eyes.

Tim's father wiped his right hand across his furry chest, filling it with
gobs of still hot sperm. A stunned gasp, a soft cry, leaped from Tim's
throat as he felt his dad's soggy palm grip his own prick, nearly engulfing
the 6.5" length in one powerful fist. Slowly he rocked back and forth,
leaning forward as both arms straddled his father's powerful chest.  The
older man worked his hand like a pro, wrenching it from side to side,
probing each wandering finger lower to his son's churning balls. Tim's head
nodded in silent plea for the feelings to continue, he shook it slowly
while begging his body not to give in. Then his dad began rubbing his back
with his other hand, nursing the feelings which burned through his
trembling body and drove any rational thoughts from his mind. Tim was taken
by fuck-lust such as he had rarely felt, and even then only with Marty in
their most private of moments. But this was different. This was his dad,
and he was openly showing him all the love in the world. He wanted Tim to
feel good, better then he had ever felt.

`Good boy.' The older man whispered in Tim's ear before nuzzling his
stubble covered cheek against Tim's young, smooth face.

Tim cried out, grunted lower and louder then he ever had before in his
life, "AAARrrrrr AAARrrrrrr AAAARRRRRrrrr!" A fountain of boiling cum flew
from his balls, breaking through his penis like a damn suddenly
released. It sprayed up to his fathers chin, the next shot fully reaching
the mans neck, as the other three drenched his chest and wet crotch. Tim
breathed in labored gasps, barely keeping his lungs filled with enough air
to maintain consciousness. His arms collapsed and he found himself lying
fully supported against his dad's strong chest and belly, his heart beat
thumping strongly through the wall of their flesh. Moans and groans
encompassed the passing minutes as his fathers hand milked the last drops
of his seed from the aching balls huddling between their bodies.

Drawing a last ounce of effort, Tim raised his head to look at his father
again. He saw every secret he had ever thought reflected in the mans
eyes. And all the love he could ever have imagined. One final kiss sealed
their secret, before Tim was swept into the dark void of dreamless
slumber... still nestled on his dad's slick chest.

***

"MMMmmmm Tim... TIM!" Al grunted as his pulsing cock gushed a pint of
pecker paste in the Tool-Man's hot mouth. Al's hips danced as his hands
gripped the bed frame, while between his legs Tim continued to nurse his
manhood of every creamy drop.  "MMmmm oh god ya... ya.. oh Tim....."

The suckling sounds resonating wetly from his hairy crotch highlighted
every burst of erotic pleasure. Tim's soppy tongue poked and prodded the
piss slit of Al's dick with expert ease, while his strong hands massaged
the gallon of cum he had already spued over Al's fuzzy chest.

Finally the spasms grew further apart, and then died completely. Tim looked
up at Al, directly into the burley mans watering eyes, and smiled.

"Al...." Tim whispered in a voice not his own, "Al wake
up. Al. Allllllllll......"

The voice belonged to Al's brother, Cal.


Al rolled over just as the first rays of morning light broke through his
flannel curtains. Cal was propped up on an elbow looking down at Al in the
large bed the two were sharing. It had been two weeks since Cal's job at
the bowling ally had been lost to the part-time chick that put-out for the
hideously straight new manager.

"Huh? Wha...." Al looked up at his handsome older brother, over the gray
flecked beard tussled by a restless nights sleep.

"You were talking in your sleep again." Cal explained as he nuzzled in
beside Al, wrapping a thick arm over the furry chest of his sibling, "You
were saying "Tim... oh Tim, ya..." and really humpin' my back."

"Oh, I was not!" Al pouted loudly as he leaned back to spoon his naked
older brother.

"Okay, okay...." Cal's right hand slid down to Al's equally furry belly
and began to pat and rub him, causing tingles of pleasure to shoot to the
younger Borland's crotch.

The rest of the morning passed in slow silence, each man growing closer by
the moment. Al was happy that his brother had lost his job and had to move
in with him. It gave them some much needed "catching up" time.



To be continued...

If you enjoyed this installment of "Tool-Men" please e-mail me
(PsychoPuppy21@yahoo.com) and let me know. Remember, the more feedback I
get the better I write! If you want to send flames or insults, those are
welcome too... I always enjoy a good laugh.