Date: Fri, 08 Aug 2003 20:23:24 +0000
From: Brewster Hardy <brewsterhardy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Ballard Boys Part 5

     The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication
or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to
which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.

     This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to
person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this
story is meant to condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.


*Chapter 16*


     Mid-afternoon, Bob lay daydreaming in the steaming bathtub,
sweating out the toxins lingering in his hung-over system,
absentmindedly caressing the contours of his finely articulated
physique.

     As the older Ballard brother lazily ran the bar of soap over his
underarms, vivid images of the previous nights' photo shoot began to
return.

     He circled his dark, hardening nipples with soapy fingers as he
recollected the gradual unzipping of his blue jeans.

     He squeezed his left nipple hard, and then harder, causing his
pelvis to arch out of the hot bath, watching the water as it ran down
the length of his hardening, 17-year-old cock.

     Still ruthlessly punishing the nipple, he held the pose, thighs
high above the water, hips tilted upward, and studied the head of the
lengthening organ. In this position, the full crown was grazing his
tanned pectoral muscles.

     Unable to resist the unvarying and profound allure of his own
prodigious manhood, he ran the bar of soap all the way from the thick
root to the sensitive head of his growing erection, and then back
again.

     He remembered Mr. Roberts focusing the camera directly on his
rigid erection, which the teasingly rough fabric of the slipping jeans
had barely covered.

     He slid the bar of soap down to his balls, circling around the
vulnerable orbs, and then continued past, to that magical area just
before his asshole.

     He pushed the bar hard against himself, causing an intake of
breath as his deeply muscled pelvis arched upward again.

     As he recalled taunting the photographer with his swaying butt, he
circled his tight asshole with one soapy finger of his left hand.
Mmmmmggnnn -- that feels kind of good -- he added more soap to the
finger, then tried the circling motion again, this time instinctively
adding more pressure. More soap, more pressure, rhythmically circling
the sensitive yet muscular opening.

     "HUUAAAH..." the finger slipped inside. Whoa - that was interesting...

     "Bob, are you alright?" Damn. Mom's still in the kitchen.

     "Yeah -- no problem -- just slipped a bit..."

     He probed a little deeper with the finger, now cautiously circling
inside the virgin opening. Wow. This was all new, uncharted territory
for the boy.

     His cock obviously liked it, as evidenced by the involuntary
bouncing against his belly.

     More soap.

     Two fingers now, as he spread his thighs wider apart, probing
deeper, exploring -- mmmmmmmmmm -- while his soapy right hand slid the
span of his rigid cock, ever-so-slowly, lightly, keeping it at the
edge, right at the delicious edge.

     More soap.

     Was it possible to fit in three fingers? Tentatively at first,
holding his breath, easy, easy, slowly, slowly, burning a bit, but
still good, no-pain-no-gain, twist and turn, push past the first
knuckle, now sliding, fingers curling upward, inward, massaging the -
UNGGGGH - oh - oh - the fuck is that? - OH, OHHHHH -- YES -- oh, fuck,
oh, yes, oh, fuck - losing control, forcefully ramming the fingers in,
out, in, out, right hand now flying over the soap-slick cock, faster,
harder, faster, harder,
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.......................................

     The cum shot everywhere - WHAM - he jammed the fingers into his
unexpectedly ravenous asshole one last time, and managed to catch some
of the salty, airborne fluid with his mouth -- ohhhhhhhhh -- wow --
ohhhh...


************


     There it was -- Fraser Falls.

     As the unqualified splendor of the secluded spot, the falls, the
little lake, enveloped him, Jerry Ballard thought the long trek had
been well worth it.

     As he looked over at his younger son, he suddenly felt contrite
over being such awful company, wrapped up in his own morose thoughts
and emotions, dwelling on the perplexing memories of an episode that
had occurred so very long ago. Stop it, he chastised himself, stop it
right now!

     "Damn, Ian, you're almost as tall as me," he laughed. "When did
that happen?"

     "You gotta start paying more attention, Dad." Phew -- Dad was
talking again. It had been a long, spooky afternoon so far. Maybe now
things would start to get normal again.

     "Swim?"

     "Yeah!" Then, after a brief pause, "Hey Dad, can we skinny-dip?"

     Jerry stopped for a moment, then, looking around and confirming
there was no one else in sight, shouted, "LAST ONE IN'S A ROTTEN EGG!"

     They raced to undress, tearing off shirts, sandals, pants, under-
shorts; Jerry hit the water first.

     "YOW -- IT'S COLD!"

     Ian followed in an instant.

     "WOAH -- NO KIDDING!"

     Jerry felt all the anxiety of the day tumble away, as the two
splashed and horsed around, laughing loud and hard in the glorious
Saturday afternoon sunshine.

     His chest filled with pride as he caught glimpses of the beautiful
16-year-old kid romping, jumping, and diving in the water like some
eloquently fashioned dolphin. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Bob
had stayed home. Sometimes it seemed that the charismatic, elder
sibling too easily overshadowed the younger.

     "Hey, Dad, look!" Ian, calling from high up on an overhanging
rock, raised both hands in the air and executed a dazzling swan dive.

     Perfection.

     An hour later, they were both exhausted.

     Clambering up onto the grassy bank, Jerry had just enough energy
left to lay out a couple of extra-large beach-towels before he
gratefully collapsed on his back. Ian, following right behind, lay down
too, tired and content.

     "Oh, damn -- wait a minute." Jerry got up and went over to the
supply-bag Trish had assembled. Finding the tanning lotion, he returned
to his son and said, "Here -- give me your hands."

     Ian stood up and held out his hands. As his father squeezed out a
generous amount of the cream, the boy cautiously inspected rare sight
of the 37-year-old man's naked physique. Impressive, he thought as he
applied the lotion to his own well-developed neck and shoulders, torso,
legs and feet, watching his father mirroring the actions. Bob might be
hot, but he still had a ways to go before he caught up to the
faultlessness of their Dad's handsome figure.

     He lay back down on the towel, face to the sun.

     "Um, Ian," said Jerry, still standing.

     "Yeah?"

     "Not to put too fine a point on it, ahem..." he cleared his throat,
"But you'd better put some of this stuff on your, ahem, genital area.
Trust me, that's the last place you want to get sun-burnt."

     Now, why is that so embarrassing? Jerry pondered the question as
he looked off into the distance, massaging the cream over his own heavy
penis and balls.

     Ian squeezed more lotion into his palms and, again unable to tear
his eyes away from the older man's body, began sliding his hands up and
down along the thick shaft of his cock, around the head, over the
balls. The sensation was very pleasing. He felt the blood begin to rush
to the disobedient organ, and forced himself to stop the stroking.

     As Jerry moved to lie down again, Ian allowed himself a prolonged
look at the man's lengthy, flaccid organ. Damn. Will I ever be that
big? I wonder how big it gets when it's hard -- bet it's bigger than
Bobs'.

     "Dad..."

     "Uh-huh?"

     "How come Bob and I are circumcised and you're not?"

     Oh boy, here we go -- a classic father-son moment if ever there
was one. Think, Jerry.

     "Um, you know what, Ian? That's an interesting question. To tell
you the truth, I have no idea why I wasn't circumcised. I never thought
to ask. As for the two of you, well, at the time you came along, it
just seemed to be standard procedure - at least in the San Francisco
hospital where you were born."

     Silence.

     Phew, Jerry thought, we got through that one OK.

     "Dad..."

     Oh no, now what?

     "Uh-huh?"

     "What does it feel like to have a foreskin?"

     WHAT?!?

     "Um, Ian, I'm not sure I understand the question..."

     "Well, for example, what does the skin feel like?"

     "Um, well, I suppose it feels pretty much the same as yours..."

     "Really?"

     "I guess so."

     "So -- what's it for?"

     "What's it for?"

     "Yeah."

     "Well, um, basically I guess it's meant to protect the head of the
penis..."

     "From what?"

     "Good question..."

     Silence.

     Jerry wondered what had prompted this flurry of interest in
foreskins. He also wondered why he was giving his son such vague,
evasive answers. What are you afraid of, Jerry?

     "So, Dad..."

     "Yes?"

     "Does your foreskin always cover the head of your cock -- sorry --
penis?"

     Cock? Hmmm...

     "Well, no, not always..."

     "So, you can see the head sometimes?"

     "Well, yeah, sure..."

     "Like, when?"

     Oh, lord - OK, here we go. "Well, for starters, when I'm in the
bath, I always pull the foreskin back," stop dodging the boy's
questions, he reprimanded himself, "-- so I can wash myself properly."

     At this, the teen was up on his elbows. "Really? So you can just
pull it back off the head whenever you want?"

     Now Jerry couldn't help laughing aloud. "Yes, Ian, whenever I
want."

     "So -- what does the head of your penis look like without the
foreskin?"

     Jerry, now up on his elbows as well, grinning and nodding at the
boy's superbly formed, manly cock-head (hmmm - is the kid starting to
get an erection?), said, "Oh, pretty much like yours."

     Ian looked at his father quizzically. "Really? Can you show me?"

     Jerry squinted, looking into the boys' eyes. What do I see there?
What does he see when he's looking at me? Then, sighing helplessly, he
said, "Alright, but pay very close attention, 'cause I am definitely
only going to do this once."

     Lying back down, Jerry said, "Ready?"

     Ian slid down a couple of feet, and now his face was just inches
away from his father's groin. He felt the heat emanating from the older
man's flesh, saw the board-flat stomach smoothly rising and falling,
smelled the heady odors of the wondrous cock and balls, now so near he
could have easily reached out and touched them.

     "'K, I'm ready"

     As Jerry lifted the organ and held it steady with the thumb and
fingers of his left hand, he was deeply aware of his son's wide-eyed
concentration. As he slowly retracted the nerve-rich foreskin with his
right hand, gradually exposing the large head of his flaccid penis, he
thought he could feel Ian's breath, gently teasing the sensitive crown.
He was suddenly aware of an unwelcome surge of blood, but clenched his
jaw and willed it away.

     Little by little, he pulled the soft foreskin as far back as he
could, until the cock-head and several inches of the adjoining shaft
were completely exposed. He felt the boys' breath again, like a warm,
constant breeze.

     "That's it," he said quietly.

     "Cool."

     There was no sound but the water cascading over the falls.

     "It smells really cool," Ian said, almost whispering.

     Now the blood was definitely returning, and Jerry felt a slight
swelling.

     "Can I touch it?"

     "No, I don't think that would be a good idea." Jerry, shaken and
bewildered by his body's reaction to the unfamiliar circumstances,
suddenly let go of his hardening cock and moved to turn over on his
stomach.

     "Why not? Is it broken or sore or something?"

     Jerry stopped, mid-move, then fell back onto his elbows and looked
directly into Ian's eyes. With his peripheral vision, he could see that
the boy's cock was definitely at least partially erect.

     "OK, Ian, here's the deal." Take a breath. "My penis has always
been annoyingly easy to arouse. From what I can see, you suffer from
the same condition. To put it bluntly, I just don't know if it's
appropriate to allow my son access to my hardening cock. Do you
understand?"

     "But, Dad, why not? There's nobody else around -- how else am I
supposed to learn about this stuff? How come I'm allowed to see your
penis when it's soft, but not when it's hard? How come I can look at
it, but I'm not allowed to touch it? How come..."

     "My lord, Ian, you're persistent! Just let me think for a second..."

     Ian waited, not even caring about his own growing erection. What
was his Dad going to say?

     Finally, Jerry spoke. "OK. Here's a sort of compromise -- we're
going to have to reapply the suntan lotion at some point anyway." He
paused, and sighed deeply. "I'm going to lay back and close my eyes.
Whenever you think it's time, you can get the lotion and I'll let you
put it on me."

     Pause.

     "All over me..."

     Pause.

     "Wherever you want -- but, please, no more questions..."

     With that, Jerry lay back in the late afternoon sun, hands behind
his head, and stretched his glorious, beautifully developed physique to
its full length, legs spread wide. He frowned slightly as he wondered
about the wisdom of the "compromise" he had just made. At the local
high school, where he taught English and Drama, he was known amongst
the students as a "cool" teacher and, truly enough, he was a forward-
thinking, liberally minded guy. It took a lot to fluster him. For
whatever reason, however, his younger son's endless curiosity had a way
of testing the limits repeatedly. "Maybe I'm just being oversensitive,"
he thought, acknowledging the old confusion that this afternoons'
reminiscing had rekindled. Well, it would be at least twenty or thirty
minutes until it was time to reapply the lotion. Perhaps by that time,
he would have come up with a better-thought-out response.

     He was just beginning to lose himself in those San Francisco
memories again, to once again try and resolve those old, unanswered
questions, when he felt the feather touch of warm fingers smoothing
lotion over his worry-furrowed brow. But, wait -- it was too soon!
Before he had the chance to comment or protest, they were soothingly
gliding across his fine, straight nose and high-boned cheeks, slowly
back and forth over his soft, full lips, gently massaging along the
close-cropped, black-bearded jaw line and then down his sturdy neck.

     The firm, comforting fingertips worked the cream deep into the
muscles of his brawny shoulders, down the length of his sculpted arms,
exploring the biceps and the triceps, his strong hands -- now palms
were gliding over his firm pectorals, nails teasing the hardening
nipples.

     Almost dizzy with sensual overload, breath now coming in short,
shallow gasps, he tried to summon the will to object. This was not what
he had anticipated. Despite his efforts to the contrary, he could feel
his cock starting to thicken and harden again.

     His chest began expanding and contracting more deeply as he tried,
unsuccessfully, to control the growing erection, while the fingers
lovingly caressed the skin of his ribcage, coasting delicately over the
sides of his waist, then, more insistently, back up over the rock-hard
definition of his abdominal muscles.

     He didn't have to look to know his cock had now become almost
fully erect. Highly conflicted, he knew he should stop the proceedings;
on the other hand, he had made Ian a promise. Damn, cock -- calm down!

     The boy was suddenly between his spread legs, and now the fingers
roughly investigated his outer thighs, around the knees, the calves and
feet, playing between each toe, and then began creeping back up along
his inner thighs,

     It was no use. Even though it had not yet been touched, he knew
the betraying organ was now throbbing and jumping. Torn between
nagging, flustered guilt on the one hand and overwhelmingly pleasurable
physical sensations on the other, he gritted his teeth and dug his
nails into the palms of his hands.

     Now the fingers were gently massaging his balls, now grasping and
harshly pulling...

     In spite of himself, his hips instinctively began to thrust,
raising his pelvis and straining upper legs up from the towel.

     "Mmmmnnggg..." he groaned, helplessly.

     Suddenly, the boy's hands, replenished with more lotion, were
gripping and squeezing the exposed head of his cock, applying intense
pressure as they circled the crown repeatedly. He was about to cry out
when the force abated, and then, ever so lightly, fingertips were
sliding the sensitive foreskin up and down the length of his angry
cock, tormenting it, teasing, bringing him terrifyingly close to the
edge of orgasm...

     "Ian - stop."

     However, the boy only held on tighter, now methodically abusing
the swollen cock-head again. Jerry opened his eyes and saw that Ian's
lips were almost touching the free flowing river of pre-cum.

     "STOP!"

     The boy moved in closer, mouth open.

     "NO!"

     With all his reserves of self-control and determination, Jerry
abruptly sat up, reached out, grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and
threw him to the ground.

     By means of his considerable strength, he pinned the boy down,
sturdy hands roughly imprisoning the burgeoning young biceps. Both
sweating males were breathing jaggedly as they looked deeply into each
other's eyes.

************

     Because of the brief scuffle, Ian was now on his back, arms and
legs spread wide. He felt his father's full weight on him. He felt his
father's muscular thighs roughly separating the tendons of his groin.
He felt his father's hot breath on his face. He felt older man's
surging, powerful manhood, the organ that had initiated his creation,
as it pressed against his own, the two throbbing cocks crushed together
beneath the punishing burden of Jerry's pelvis. He saw the fury, panic
and confusion in his fathers' darkly beautiful eyes, and it terrified
him. He watched his fathers' breathtakingly sensual lips as they
trembled, and he longed to feel their touch. He felt the pre-cum
pooling on his stomach, as both robust shafts involuntarily quivered
and jumped, continuously discharging their reserves of the clear fluid.
He felt the violence in his fathers' hands as they harshly restrained
his splayed arms, and it excited him.

     "Dad," he said reluctantly, half in fear, half in a sexual frenzy,
not wanting to shatter the spell, "You're hurting me."

************

     Bewilderment, terror, rage and a nearly unbridled sexual hunger
spiraled through Jerry's consciousness. Hearing his son's gasping
voice, he was suddenly aware of the vulnerability in the young man's
clear blue, darkly lashed eyes. He sensed the innocence of the warm
skin covering the solidly muscled arms he was clutching so ruthlessly.
He felt the urgency of the youth's rock-hard, pre-orgasmic cock as it
pressed and thrust against his own insatiable, blood-engorged shaft.

     Stunned, he pulled away from the boy, and threw himself back onto
the ground, covering his face with his hands and shuddering. His
frustrated testicles were almost unbearably painful now, as they pulled
up tightly against the base of his merciless erection, straining to
release their burden.

     "I'm sorry, Dad."

     Jerry tried to respond, but couldn't find the words. He heard the
sound of the water tumbling over the nearby falls, the rustle of the
leaves in the gentle summer breeze. He eased his hands away from his
closed eyes, briefly massaging his worried brow, then, sighing deeply,
ran his fingers through his silky, black hair until they met and
intertwined on the towel beneath his head. He knew his cock was, at
most, a stroke or two away from eruption. His fingers locked together
and tensed in frustration.

     "Dad," Ian suddenly sounded like a frightened little boy,
plaintive and desolate, "Would you hold me -- please?"

     Jerry was still trying to formulate the appropriate response, when
he felt the strong, sinewy, 6-foot frame of the man-child -- his son --
climbing between his spread legs.

     He was about to voice disapproval when, eyes blinking open in
surprise, his words were silenced by the absolute, otherworldly beauty
of the face hovering over him.

     He was searching his brain for reason when he felt, once again,
the vigor of the youth's relentlessly yearning, heaving cock as it
pressed forcefully against his own brutal erection, the two shafts
sliding hard together now, mutely begging for relief, both fully coated
with the continuously flowing pre-cum, father's now indistinguishable
from son's.

     He was about to cry out in horrified opposition when, all of a
sudden, Ian's face was buried in his neck, arms wrapping around his
broad ribcage, clinging desperately.

     Instinctually, Jerry's arms enclosed the boy in a fervent embrace,
pulling the quivering lad tighter, then tighter again as their fluid-
slick cocks uncontrollably pounded and thrashed, thick, hard shafts
battling, purple, screamingly-engorged heads mercilessly jammed
together, dripping, drooling, slipping, sliding.

     Mindless now, Jerry could only whimper piteously as he felt the
boy kiss his burning skin, scream soundlessly as the ravenous lips,
tongue and teeth worked their way up from the base of his neck.

     He was barely aware of his right hand reaching down to grasp the
downy skin of the firmly muscled, hairless, young buttocks, squeezing
hard as the probing tongue enter his ear. As his own hips continuously
thrust fiercely upward, his hand crushed the boy's pelvis even harder
against him.

     Then, the youthful, searching lips found his own; as his mouth
fell open to allow the forbidden intrusion, both his hands flew up to
hold the handsome young head, feeling the long, thick hair as it caught
between his fingers.

     Then, there was the sound, the primeval cry that came from deep
within Ian's hungering core and up through his mouth, reverberating
through Jerry's whirling mind and soul as tongues entwined, sharing and
savoring every illicit taste and sensation.

     The moaning became a muffled scream as Jerry bit down on the
young, overripe lips, nearly drawing blood, and an explosive orgasm
engulfed Ian's shuddering body.

     As he felt the first waves of the teenager's hot semen bursting
against his chest, Jerry finally lost his last vestiges of self-
control. As if challenged by the upstart, burning shaft thrusting
wildly against it, his raging, aching cock reared back, then began
surging and pounding forward, angrily ejaculating hard, harder, harder
again, shooting, shooting.

     Now both torsos were driving as one; again and again and again
they released their pent-up fluids, arms clinging tight as the two men
continued coating each other's bodies with semen, mouths locked
frantically together as they stifled each other's cries and screams
with brutishly aggressive lips and tongues.

     One more spasm, one more convulsing shudder, one last mutual cry,
and then it was over.

     Jerry felt the boy crumple in his arms.

     He felt a residual twitch from Ian's thick, young cock, and then
his own, as he tenderly kissed the side of the boy's head.

     Wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep, naked
under the hot July sun.


To be continued...

I would like to thank all of you who have sent the wonderful,
encouraging emails. It thrills me to hear that this story has touched
(and turned on!) so many of you. Because of circumstances beyond my
control, I am going to have to take a bit of a break from writing, but
you may rest assured, the boys will return! In the meantime, please
feel free to continue sharing your thoughts, feelings and stories with
me.

All the best,

BH
brewsterhardy@hotmail.com