Date: Thu, 4 Dec 2008 22:37:13 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "The Brewsters Celebrate Mardi Gras - Part 1/2" (t/t, m/m)

Caution/Welcome.  This is a story involving four brothers between the ages
of thirteen and seventeen, their forty-five-year-old father and a fortysome
married gay couple, their gay twenty- one-year-old nephew and his
boyfriend, sundry hot and spicy Cajun and dark and sexy Creole boys, some
Voodoo and a lot of sex in the Big Easy during Mardi Gras.  It is posted at
free gay adult story sites for adult entertainment only.  Permission is not
given to copy electronically nor in any other form for the purpose of
redistribution or posting at sites other than those just described.  This
is the forty-ninth story in the Brewster Adventures special events and
myths series.  Chronologically it follows the forty-eighth story in the
series, "The Brewsters Celebrate Boy Scout Day", but like the other stories
in this series it is a stand alone story that can be read totally on its
own.  Comments, Mardi Gras beads and all expense paid invites to future
Mardi Gras celebrations can be sent to the author J.O. Dickingson at
authorsix@hotmail.com

	       THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE MARDI GRAS - PART 1/2

     "Ungh!  Unnnnh!  Oh fuck.  Oh yeah.  This is the one.  I'm gonna cum.
I can feel it!"
     "Bobby, keep it down," whispered his fifteen-year-old brother, Benny.
     "Ungh!  Mmmmungh!  Ahhhhghn," thirteen-year-old Bobby gasped as he
arched his back and trembled violently with his orgasm, once again dry
despite his premonition but just as powerful and as pleasurable as any wet
climax his three older brothers had ever achieved.  He sank back down
amongst the soft pillows and the thick comforter with a white and pale blue
floral design covering the bed he and Benny were sharing.  Seconds later
Benny, who'd been jacking off beside his kid brother just as
enthusiastically if more quietly, threw back his head and shot his thick,
teenage load into the handful of Kleenex he'd been holding in readiness in
his other hand.  Breathing heavily he continued to stroke his thick,
impressive cock, now only an eighth of an inch away from six inches,
milking out his thick cum as his seventeen-year-old twin brothers, Brent
and Brett, rhythmically jerking each other off with years of experience,
stretched out their long legs on the pair of sleeping bags covering the
floor of the tiny guest bedroom as they shot off their loads
simultaneously, catching each other's creamy, copious load in their
unoccupied hand.  The white and pale blue patterned wallpaper, the old cast
iron bed, and the ornate matching pitcher and washbasin on the night table
spoke of a bygone era as the four brothers engaged in a pleasure as old as
mankind.  For the next five minutes all that could be heard in the tiny
guestroom was the heavy breathing of the four teenage brothers as they
relished their post-climatic flush and as their smooth, naked chests rose
and fell in rhythmic unison.
     "Jeez, Bobby, if you're gonna make that much noise you'd better not
jack off anymore until we're back in our own bedroom," observed Brent as he
squeezed the remaining marrow out of his brother's still stiff cock, his
and his brother's mushroom-shaped knobs glistening with their fresh cum in
the moonlight shining in through the open window.
     "Not until we get home?  That's four fucking nights from now!  I so
can't not do it for that long!" Bobby protested in his high soprano, his
voice not yet having changed.
     "Will you keep your voice down?" cautioned Brent again.  The house
they were staying in had thin walls and their hosts were sleeping right
next door.
     "Well, I can't not do it that long," Bobby repeated with a pout.
"Sides, I thought for sure I was going to squirt this time."  His three
brothers rolled their eyes.  For the past six months their kid brother was
certain he was going to squirt each time he jerked off, and he was jerking
off two or three times a day minimum.
     "Maybe you should just try to stop thinking about that each time you
do it and just concentrate on how good your dink is feeling," Benny advised
as he propped himself up on one elbow.  "It's gonna happen sooner or later
and concentrating on it and wishing for it isn't going to make it happen
any sooner."
     "But why does it have to be later?  You started cumming when you was
twelve."
     Benny smiled as he cupped his sweaty balls and fondled them as he
thought back to his first wet orgasm almost three years ago now.  He
remembered the event perfectly.  He'd been twelve and seven months to be
exact, and it had happened on Father's Day.  It had been totally awesome
and he would never forget it.  "It will happen when it happens," he
sympathized philosophically.  "Maybe you're trying too hard."
     "Yeah, maybe you're getting yourself too tense or something,"
suggested Brett, the logical thinker among the four boys.  He brushed his
long, blond hair out of his eyes as he yawned.
     "Of course I was tense.  I was fucking tense.  Don't you get fucking
tense when you have a fucking orgasm?" Bobby snapped irritably.  Brett
didn't retort.  He knew how disappointed his kid brother was that he hadn't
had a wet orgasm and let it pass.  Bobby immediately regretted his sharp
comeback also.  He knew his brother was only trying to be helpful.  "Maybe
it's plugged up or something.  Maybe if you sucked on it you could suck out
whatever's blocking it," he suggested, propping himself up on an elbow and
looking over at his older brother laying on the floor beside his twin.
Brent had removed his earrings and nipple ring and other piercings and
looking at the two of them was like looking at two peas in a pod, two
handsome, blond, smooth- bodied peas with pendulous balls and huge, now
flaccid dicks.
     "Good try, brother.  Maybe tomorrow night, if you promise not to make
so much noise.  Right now I'm beat.  It's been a long, busy day, and
tomorrow is going to be busy too," Brett replied, not exactly sure if his
kid brother had been joking or had been serious.  With Bobby and his wild
ideas it was often hard to tell.
     "Right.  We'd better all get some sleep," agreed Benny as he closed
his eyes and thought about the events that had lead to him and his three
brothers ending up in New Orleans.
     Some guy who owned a chain of pet grooming studios in France had been
introduced to the WeCare Pet Supplies line of grooming products by a
relative of his living in Montreal where the WeCare company had recently
opened up a store, and he had made inquiries about distributing the
products in France through his grooming studios.  In that it would mean
making inroads in the pet supply business in Europe, and in that the man
was planning an upcoming trip to the United States to visit relatives in
New Orleans, their father, Barry, as the company's Third Vice President,
had been selected to fly down to meet with him.  Their uncle, Barry's
younger brother, James, upon learning he was going to New Orleans at the
beginning of the Mardi Gras weekend, convinced him to make a holiday of it
and had arranged for him to spend the weekend with two good friends of his.
     Their mother knew how hard their dad had been working since his
promotion to Third Vice President and was all for him taking a bit of a
holiday on his own.  Unfortunately, the day before he was to leave, she
received a call that her younger sister had been in a serious accident on
their ranch in Texas.  She was able to make last minute arrangements to fly
down with the triplets, who had turned two only eleven days ago, to be with
her sister and to help look after her children during the emergency.
Unable to arrange for their four sons to accompany her and hesitant to
leave them on their own for five days, not because they didn't trust their
boys but because they knew not all teenagers were as decent and law-abiding
as their boys were and what happened when it was discovered there was a
home with no adults around, Barry decided to cancel his weekend plans and
to fly back to Crestview after his meeting as he'd intended initially.
Knowing how he'd been looking forward to the break, his boys of course
protested, and feeling guilty, Brenda decided she'd cancel her plans, which
of course Barry didn't want her to do.  The whole thing had become a mess.
     Although the boys said they could stay with their friends and Barry
and Brenda knew their boys' friends' parents would readily agree, they
figured five days was a long time and they were not the type to impose on
others.  Besides, though they trusted their boys, they knew they could be
mischievous, full of piss and vinegar as the boys' grandfather put it, and
at that age where their hormones were rampant, and they didn't want to
impose looking after a randy teen for five days on anyone.
     Not wanting to see either of his parents disappointed, Brett, the one
in the family most likely to keep his cool in an emergency, made a secret
call to his uncle James.  His uncle was the president of Novatron Oil and
alternated living in his condos in Orlando, Calgary, Zurich, and Firenze
during the year.  He had married the owner of an international chain of
Italian restaurants, Romano Carboni, on Flag Day last year and the whole
family had attended the wedding.  Brett had figured if anyone had the
wisdom and experience to solve their problem, not to mention the money and
the influence, it would be his uncle.  James's solution, to everyone's
surprise though they shouldn't have been given the man's nature and way of
thinking, was to have his private jet fly Barry and his sons to New
Orleans.
     Arriving early Friday morning, the last day of February, while their
father headed off to his meeting, the four brothers, promising to be
careful and to keep an eye on each other, took the morning Gray Line Super
City tour.  Driving through the French Quarter, already crowded with
tourists for the decadent weekend, stopping at one of New Orleans' three
"Cities of the Dead," and continuing along the Bayou St. John to Lake
Pontchartrain, all four boys dreamed of living during the days of piracy
and Voodoo priestesses as their guide told of the exploits of the pirate
Jean Lafitte who sailed the waterway.  Continuing on through the Garden
district, their dreams turned to living in the stately mansions in the
1800's as they learned about the former Kings and Queens of Mardi Gras and
rich plantation owners, all four boys having very vivid and active
imaginations.  Finally driving past the Audubon Zoo and Tulane and Loyola
Universities, they were reminded that Brent and Brett would soon be
graduating and leaving home, something the twins were looking forward to
with excitement, but also with a touch of sadness.  The four boys were very
close and it would be their first time apart.
     That afternoon they and their dad explored the French Quarter along
with several thousand other tourists, the streets being particularly
crowded with the improved weather after severe storms had cancelled the
parades and festivities on Wednesday and with the federal government having
switched the terrorist alert from orange to yellow the day before they'd
left.  Checking out the profusion of local crafts and the unique array of
Louisiana vegetables and fresh fish at the French market and each
purchasing feathered masks, which they were told everyone wore during Mardi
Gras, they sampled the spicy fare of New Orleans as they strolled between
the food booths lining Dutch Alley adjacent to the Market between Dumaine
and St. Phillip Streets.  Wandering through the Jackson Brewery, a former
brewery and now a four-story shopping complex, and the more modern
Riverwalk Marketplace, they looked for gifts for their Aunt Debra and for
their mother to cheer her up and for the triplets upon whom all five doted.
     Their hosts, James's friends Philippe Dumont and Henri Duhamell, a gay
couple in their mid-forties who'd been living together for the past twenty
years and had recently married, joined them at the Grey Line Lighthouse and
treated them to a dinner/jazz cruise on the Steamboat Natchez.  Brent
particularly enjoyed listening to the jazz band in that he played trumpet
in the Crestview Heights High School Band, though it did remind him of Cam
Souyong, his fellow band mate and lover for the past two years, and he
wished Cam was there with him.  Of course they all enjoyed the experience
of sailing along the Mississippi and the elaborate banquet of fresh
seafood.  It was a fitting end to their first day in the Big Easy, and
after their flight and a full day of touring, it was no wonder the four
boys were exhausted and fell asleep with their fingers still wrapped about
their young cocks.
     The following morning their two hosts treated them to a breakfast of
sausages and French crepes stuffed with blueberries and smothered with
whipped cream until they all were about to burst, Philippe being a
marvellous cook.  Catching the St. Charles Avenue streetcar to the uptown
area, they took in their first parade, the Iris Krewe Parade, and
experienced their first throws.  Despite the heavy crowds and the younger
children perched on seats on the tops of ladders for a better view and a
better target to catch the trinkets being thrown off the floats, the four
boys, being particularly attractive and having joined in the festivities
with their feathered masks, caught their fair share of beads, doubloons and
bags of chips and peanuts.  Following the parade, while their father went
off for a second meeting with the French entrepreneur, his first having
generated a definite interest in doing more than just adding the grooming
products of WeCare to the man's studios, the Brewster brothers along with
Philippe's twenty-one-year-old nephew Andre grabbed a quick bite at a
Popeye Fried Chicken and caught the afternoon two-hour City of the Dead
tour of St. Louis Cemetery #1.  Bobby and Brent particularly got caught up
in the tales of witchcraft, vampires and black magic spun by their guide,
Brent of course because the seventeen-year-old was not only interested in
history but was also a full member of the Wiccan coven back in Crestview
along with his boyfriend of almost two years, and Bobby because he was
thirteen and liked anything weird.  The four boys, having celebrated the
Day of the Dead in Mexico just over a year ago, could not help but recall
that adventure, and the hot fun they'd had with some sexy Mexican brothers,
which of course resulted in all four popping boners.  Having inherited the
Brewster genes for endowment, that made their condition particularly
difficult to hide and walking extremely awkward.
     Pausing at the two-tiered white stone mausoleum of Marie Laveau,
hairdresser, psychic, and Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, their guide recited
some of the more mysterious and sensational examples of her supposed
blessings of friends and curses of enemies that made her both popular and
feared during the eighteen hundreds.  He noted that many people made
special wishes at her tomb, pointing out the markings and crosses that had
been drawn on the stones over the years, and to the clutter of coins, bits
of herb, beans, bones, bags containing who knows what, flowers, and tokens
that had been left in the hopes of good luck and blessings from the Voodoo
Queen.  Bobby suddenly had a brilliant idea as he glanced at the markings
on the mausoleum and the offerings strewn around it in the cluttered
cemetery.  Fishing around in his pocket, he took out the doubloons he'd
caught from the parade, a Canadian loonie he'd found that morning in his
toiletry bag and he hadn't known he had which he figured would be
particularly special, and the fried chicken wing he'd wrapped up in a
napkin and stuffed in his pocket for later and which he figured she'd
especially like, and as everyone else moved on he dropped them beside the
tomb, glancing around and looking as innocent and nonchalant as any
thirteen-year-old could while he hurriedly whispered his special request.
     At the end of the tour, they headed straight to the Tipitina's
Terminal tour office to catch the coach to the airboat swamp tour.
Boarding the sixteen-passenger airboat, they were taken into the Lafitte
swamps.  As their boat captain, Louis Buidry, a handsome, swarthy,
sexy-eyed young Cajan in his early twenties with thick, jet black hair and
a smooth muscular chest revealed by his partially open shirt, steered the
airboat through the marsh reeds and along the Louisiana bayous, it was
evident to the Brewster boys that he was spending more time glancing at
Andre than he was at the waterways, and that Andre was more interested in
him than he was in the wildlife of the bayou.  Pulling into a thick patch
of sedge, he idled the boat as his assistant, his barefoot
seventeen-year-old cousin by the name of Anton, stepped onto the floating
vegetation to retrieve a young alligator which was passed around before
being handed back to him and returned to the swamp.  As they continued
their search for alligators, they spotted a few egret and a blue heron
standing in the reeds and patiently waiting for a passing bass, a few
ducks, and the occasional water snake.
     As the swarthy, narrow-eyed, seventeen-year-old gave his spiel about
wildlife in the Louisiana bayou, the hunting of alligators for their hide
and their flesh which he said he did with his uncle, and the trapping of
muskrat and nutria for their fur and to keep their population down, which
he also said he did and was essential or the rodents would eatout the
vegetation and leave nothing, Andre could not help but notice that the
teenager was especially interested in Brent and Brett so that it often
seemed he was addressing them directly, and that the twins were just as
interested in Anton.  From the looks on their faces, Andre knew that as
fascinating as it was, the two blond teenagers were interested in more than
Anton's spiel about life in the Louisiana bayou and he smiled to himself.
With his handsome, dark looks and sweat and swamp stained "working clothes"
the teenage guide/trapper exuded raw sexuality, and the twins with their
bright blue eyes and almost waist-long hair and their fresh, clean faces
and quick smiles, besides evidently nice- sized packages displayed in their
tight, white slacks, turned the heads of both sexes and of all ages and
could not help sparking erotic fantasies for those so inclined.  The tour
went by all too quickly.
     "You travelling with them?" Louis asked discretely, nodding to the
Brewsters as Andre disembarked.
     "Yeah."
     "That's too bad," he said, giving Andre a sultry look.  "I thought
perhaps you'd like a, ah, a more intimate tour.  I could always drive you
back to New Orleans."
     Andre smiled.  He had a steady boyfriend, but the young Cajan captain
was hot, and he and his boyfriend had an agreement that if they met anyone
that was particularly enticing they would not let their love for each other
prevent the other from having a good time.  "Would your cousin be
interested in giving a more intimate tour also?"
     Louis smiled and his narrow eyes narrowed even more.  "Well, he's sort
of young, and I'm not into three-way, but-."
     "Not you and me.  I got the impression he might like to give the twins
a, shall we say, more intimate view of Cajun life."
     Louis's smile broadened.  "You are very observant.  I am sure he
would.  Unfortunately there's the matter of the two other brothers."
     "I'd be very surprised you didn't have another cousin or two that
could keep them entertained for a few hours."  Louis studied Bobby and
Benny for a few minutes.  "What type of entertainment do you think they
might be interested in?" he asked cautiously.
     "I imagine the same as all thirteen and fifteen year olds are, though
I suspect they'd also be interested in the same as their older brothers,"
Andre replied vaguely.
     "I see," Louis said with an even broader smile.  "Give me a moment and
let me see what I can come up with."
     What he came up with was a fifteen-year-old half-Acadian half-Spanish
cousin by the name of Frankie who came pedalling up the dirt back road on
his bike minutes later.  Andre phoned his uncle to let him know they were
all right and would be home late and he, the four Brewster brothers, and
the Buidry cousins headed back out into the Louisiana bayou, this time on
one of the nine-passenger airboats to one of the family's old, abandoned
trapper shacks Louis had taken over as his own private hideaway where he
could entertain without worrying about interruptions or discovery.  Taking
out a quart sealer of his uncle's moonshine and taking a swig, the
twenty-three-year-old passed it to Andre, who cautiously took a sip of the
powerful, clear brew and snorted as it burned down to his stomach.
     "Eighty percent proof," Louis said with a grin.  Anton took the bottle
and raised it to his lips and took a long swig, evidently having been
raised on the stuff, and as he passed it to Brent, Louis warned him to take
a very small sip.  Even that caused the seventeen-year-old to gasp for
breath as if his mouth was on fire and tears to come to his eyes.  Brett
wisely took an even smaller sip and even that caused his eyes to water.  As
he was about to hand the quart sealer back, Frankie intercepted it and took
a healthy swig before handing it to Benny.  Louis and the twins exchanged
glances, but with Frankie having taken a swig of the booze they couldn't
embarrass Benny who was of the same age by prohibiting him from at least a
sip.  Having seen the reaction of his older brothers, Benny wisely did no
more than moisten his lips and pretend to swallow.  The face he made was
not an act.  Bobby of course was not so perceptive and the thirteen-year-
old took a healthy swig, causing him to emit a high-pitched gasp, choke,
turn several shades of red, and look around desperately through his tears
for a bucket of water to quench the fire in his mouth, much to the
amusement of others, and especially the Buidry cousins.
     "Whoo-eee," he finally gasped, "that could send a rocket to the moon."
     "It almost sent you to the moon," observed Brett, to the amusement of
everyone, including Bobby.
     Frying them up a mess of homemade boudin and serving it with a spicy
seafood and okra gumbo washed down with several cold beer and cans of coke
Louis had loaded up the cooler with before leaving, they sat out on the
porch of the trapper's shack and as the night quickly descended as it does
in the south, devoured their meal, which the Brewsters particularly enjoyed
until they found out the Cajun sausage was made of alligator tail and the
seafood was supplemented with periwinkles, which Bobby found out were sea
snails, collected from the sedges just outside the cabin.  They were afraid
to ask what okra was.  As they ate Louis and his cousins described life on
the Louisiana marsh as it really was, not just the spiel given tourists,
the three of them clearly enjoying the wilderness and the country life.
Louis was in his final year of university and had a job lined up as a
wetlands biologist locally when he graduated.  He'd helped out his father
in his airboat tour business in the summers and on weekends, and his uncle,
Frankie's father, on his trap line to help fund his education.
     Anton on the other hand had dropped out of school when he'd turned
sixteen.  Besides helping his uncle out on his tourist business and helping
his father who had a garage in Lafitte pumping gas and doing simple
mechanical repair work, he hunted alligators for a living and had his own
trapline.  Frankie, who had just recently turned fifteen, was finishing
grade nine and was already a proficient alligator hunter and muskrat
skinner and was affectionately called a coonass by his cousins, a
derogatory term the Brewsters learned meaning a hillbilly Cajun.
     All of them being young and naturally horny and being loosened up by
the illicit whiskey and the beer, and all of them knowing they hadn't come
out there to discuss life on the Louisiana bayou, they were anxious to
start getting it on.  Louis got them started, drifting off with Andre, the
two ending up back on the airboat.  It was a hot and humid evening and
Louis had removed his shirt long ago.  He now unbuttoned the younger man's
shirt and slipped it off his shoulders, and the two embraced and kissed in
the moonlight and began to caress each other's smooth, rock- hard body, the
twenty-three-year-old part-time guide and student having kept in shape
between driving airboats and working out in the university gym, and the
twenty-one-year-old, who was working as a bartender as he put himself
through university working toward an engineering degree, beginning each day
jogging and lifting weights.  Running their fingers over each other's
smooth, broad back and exploring each other's mouth with their tongue, they
closed their eyes in delight as they felt the desire quickly welling up in
their loins.
     Slipping his hand down to Andre's crotch, Louis slowly pulled down his
fly and then unbuckled his belt and unsnapped the top button of his
trousers.  As they dropped to his ankles, Andre similarly unzipped Louis's
baggy swamp pants and undid his belt and his trousers dropped to his ankles
also.  The two young men kissed and caressed each other with increased
passion as their pulse speeded up and sweat began to bead on their
foreheads and in the small of their backs, the result of the sultry evening
and their growing lust.  They simultaneously slipped their fingers under
the elastic band of the other's boxers and grasped and squeezed each
other's smooth, tight buns, deep kissing each other as their young, eager
cocks began to swell.  Easing down each other's boxers and allowing them to
drop to their ankles also, the two hot young men stepped out of their
entangling clothing, Andre kicking off his shoes and Louis untying his
thick swamp boots and removing them and his socks, and the two, Louis buck
naked and Andre in only his ankle socks, embraced and kissed again, their
hands straying to their crotches where they fondled each other's hairy
balls and Andre's stiff, narrow moustache brushing against Louis's cheek.
     Brent, Anton and Brett had meanwhile also slipped away, the young
Cajun having given the two boys a dreamy, bedroom-eyed look and a nod and
each of them taking an outstretched hand and being guided across the spongy
carpet of moss and sedge covering the small island the cabin was on to an
old, moss-covered cypress, the thick branches draped in long, pale green
lichen which shone eerily in the Louisiana moonlight.  Somewhere off in the
reeds a couple marsh wrens softly called to each other and a bass leapt out
of the dark water to catch a fly and splashed back into the murky depths of
the bayou.  The eery hooting of a rail calling its mate in the distance
drifted across the water and a water snake coiled about the upper branches
of the old cypress, unseen by the boys.  The three horny
seventeen-year-olds kissed gently and experimentally, their smooth lips
barely touching, lips on necks, on downy cheeks, lips on lips.  Their lips
tasted of hot Cajun spices and their breaths smelled of crab and crawfish.
Like his cousin, Anton had gone shirtless in the sultry evening, and the
twins ran their fingers over his smooth, satiny, dark brown skin, his dark
complexion a combination of his Cajun ancestry and from being out in the
hot Louisiana summer sun for months working his trapline and hunting
alligator.  His body was sinewy and solid and warm and damp with sweat and
smelled of the bayou.
     Brent and Brett were soon shirtless also.  A regular schedule of
swimming and basketball had resulted in firm, well-defined muscles, their
pale skin in sharp contrast to Anton's swarthy complexion especially in the
light of the moon as it passed in and out of the clouds above, and the
shadows cast by the contours of their muscles accented them.  The three
boys each had male lovers and were skilled in the art of man-to-man
lovemaking and as they kissed and caressed each other's back and sculptured
chest they felt their passion rising, along with their young cocks.  They
felt no guilt about what they were doing, knowing that at their age they
were approaching the peak of their sexual prowess and at their age lust was
second nature, and that the lust of one boy for another was perfectly
healthy and normal.  It was because of those attitudes that they, and their
boyfriends, knew they had too much sexual drive and energy to constrain
themselves when the one they loved was not available to satisfy those
smoldering needs between their legs.  They also knew that just because they
had sex with someone else it did not diminish nor demean the relationship
they had with their lover.
     Finding themselves alone, the remaining three boys glanced at each
other.  "So," said Frankie, looking first at Benny and then at Bobby,
"either of you interested in another Cajun sausage?"
     The two brothers grinned, knowing he was not referring to the boudin
they'd consumed earlier.
     "Depends," Benny replied.  "It stuffed with alligator tail?"
     "Stuffed with something even better," Frankie said with a grin.  "And
it's homemade."
     What the three younger teens lacked in the sophistication and
experience their older relations possessed, they made up for in frankness
and enthusiasm.  They were randy and eager and their focus was on the
ever-present need between their legs, which didn't need any kissing or
caressing to be kindled.  In a matter of seconds the three had chucked
their clothes and were standing there on the old wooden patio stark naked
and unashamed.  Bobby and Benny dropped to their knees and the two brothers
nuzzled the long, thick sausage and the pendulous balls of the young Cajun,
delighting in the spicy, musky fragrance of his sweat-damp balls and the
wild-meat fragrance of his young, teenage dick.  Extending their tongues,
they ran them over his hairy, dangling balls and along his flaccid but
growing cock, finding its taste even spicier and more delightful than the
sausage they'd eaten for supper.  All else was forgotten.
     Something bumped up against the airboat and dived under it, perhaps an
alligator in search of a night snack, or a muskrat trying to avoid being
one.  There was a soft flutter over the bayou, perhaps a night hawk or
swamp owl in search of prey, the sound of their wings softer than the
breathing of the two youths lustfully pressing their hot, sweating bodies
against each other and gyrating, grinding their lower torsos against each
other, their swollen flesh trapped between their flat, firm stomachs.  They
pressed their lips tightly together and sucked deeply, two vampires drawing
each other's soul out from the depths of their flushed, pulsating, mortal
bodies in the Louisiana bayou.  The two were fully erect and both
well-endowed.
     Turning Andre around and bending him over the raised captain's seat,
Louis slipped his middle finger in his mouth and coating it with his
spittle, he reached down and placed the tip of his digit against Andre's
tender pucker.  The twenty-one-year-old pushed out with his abdominal
muscles in reflex, opening up to the probing appendage, and Louis slowly
sank his finger up the younger man's dank channel.  Andre sighed with
pleasure and his stiff dick twitched with the anticipation of a longer and
thicker appendage soon come.  Louis kissed the back of the younger man's
neck as he finger fucked him and he reached around and rolled his pendulous
balls in the fingers of his other hand.  As he worked his middle digit in
and out of Andre's hole, he twisted it around, loosening him up.  The two
boys sighed, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply as they focussed on
the pleasure, Andre on the pleasure of being finger fucked, Louis on the
pleasure of turning on the hunky, horny youth. Finally withdrawing his
finger, Louis stood behind the gasping, bend-over young man he'd only met
five hours ago and inhaling deeply, he reached down and bent his stiff cock
until it was perpendicular to his body and the knob was touching Andre's
tender, eager opening.
     Again Andre pushed out with his abdominal muscles in reflex and in
anticipation, and Louis slowly pressed forward, his slopehead wedging in
the younger man's opening and slowly beginning to stretch it open.  The two
youths inhaled and exhaled deeply as they attempted to couple, the one
straining to accept the other, the other straining to penetrate.  Louis
grasped Andre's hips more tightly as he pressed his own forward, his
slopehead continuing to slowly stretch open the restraining but eager
pucker until at last it popped inside and the two boys felt the tight
sphincter muscle clamp down on the stiff, intruding cock just below the
knob now firmly and securely imbedded in the asshole of the other.
     Just as smoothly and with just as much eagerness and anticipation, the
three seventeen- year-olds were coupling also.  Having discarded their
trousers, boxers and socks, Brent had eagerly turned and spread his legs.
Now as he braced himself against the old, gnarled cypress, he curled his
toes and pushed out with his abdomen just as had Andre as he felt Anton's
hot, firm, blood-engorged knob pressing against his anus.  He inhaled
deeply and closed his eyes in anticipation as Anton grasped his hips and
drove his stiff, slender cock forward, penetrating his body and sinking to
the depths of his hot bowels in one fluid motion just as smoothly plunging
his hunting knife into the stomach of a skinned opossum he was gutting for
his supper.
     Anton closed his eyes and inhaled deeply too as he felt his long,
slender Cajun cock penetrate the gorgeous blond and sink deep up his hot,
moist rectum.  One thing was certain: he was no virgin.  For another, he
was hot for his Cajun cock, just as he'd thought when he'd caught him
checking him out that afternoon.  He pushed forward until his coarse,
black, curly hairs were pressing against the smooth buttocks of the boy
he'd only met and barely knew.  Sinking his cock up the boy's tight,
compact ass had been just as delightful and just as easy as he'd imagined
it would be as he'd checked the hot teen out himself as he'd helped his
cousin with the four o'clock tour.
     Feeling a pair of hands grasp his own hips and a hot, hard knob press
against his own back door, he inhaled deeply and pushed out with his
abdomen just as the boy he'd just penetrated had, but not with the same
certainty.  The knob pressing against his butthole was thicker than his own
and thicker than any knob that had ever been shoved up his ass, and he
pushed out with both anticipation of the pleasure it would bring and with
apprehension of the pain he was sure to experience.  The moment he'd seen
the size of the two Brewster twins he knew it was going to be difficult to
connect without lube, and painful for both of them, but unfortunately a
tube of lube wasn't something he normally carried with him when he helped
out on his uncle's swamp tours.  He had been taken aback the moment he'd
seen their monster cocks.  Never had he seen anyone with cocks that long
and thick.  Once he and an older cousin had used the fat from a muskrat
they'd caught out of desperation, finding themselves in a similar
situation, but today he was not so fortunate.  Now as he and Brett
struggled to unite he thought of the grease from the sausages they'd cooked
for supper, but to pull his dick out of Brent and go back to the cabin and
get it would be inconvenient, and it would certainly break the mood.
     Brett was wishing he had some lube also as he inhaled deeply and
pressed forward, but when he'd left the house that morning he'd had no idea
that evening he'd be fucking ass in the middle of the Louisiana swampland.
The seventeen-year-old knew he was better hung than most boys his age, and
most men older than he, but he'd hoped Anton's obvious experience and his
own, combined with a generous coating of spittle, would make up for the
lack of lube.  Now, as he pressed that most sensitive appendage of his body
against the willing but tight hole of the hot Cajun boy, closing his eyes
and gritting his teeth with the pain, he feared what they were attempting
to do would be impossible.  Knowing the pleasure that would follow and
feeling the restraining flesh give millimetre by millimetre, he persisted
however, determined to continue and hoping Anton was not in as much pain as
he was.
     He and Anton grunted and snorted so loudly the night grew silent as if
the animals in the bayou were listening and holding their breaths in
anticipation.  For a moment all that could be heard was their heavy
breathing and then the sounds of the wetlands resumed, the leaves in the
great cypress rustling as something hopped from one branch to another,
perhaps a black squirrel or one of the many birds nesting in the upper
branches of the old monarch, and somewhere in the muck of the swamp one
frog pipped to another, as if the animals recognized the sound of two
creatures rutting and realized they were not in danger.  Suddenly, just as
he was sure he'd not be able to do it and would have to reluctantly admit
defeat, he felt his large, plum-sized knob pop inside the rectum of the
seventeen-year-old Cajun who already had his cock plunged up his brother's
hole.
     Unaware and unconcerned what the others were doing, the three younger
boys had gathered up and spread out their clothes on the wooden patio and
retrieved a half dozen cleaned and cured muskrat and nutria pelts from the
lean-to beside the cabin where Louis had allowed his cousin to store them
and stacked them up on the deck above their clothing.  Laying down on the
soft, musk-scented pelts, the three had resumed their foreplay, making
muskrat love Bobby had called it.  They had ended up in a sixty-nine
position with Bobby and Benny facing in the same direction and Frankie
between them and in the opposite direction, his head at their crotches and
their heads at his.  As the two brothers ran their tongues over his
swollen, twitching cock, delighting in the unique flavour of his Cajun
sausage and in the pleasure of bringing him a pleasure that only a boy can
know, Frankie licked and sucked the throbbing pecker of first one Brewster
and then the other, surprised and delighted at how hung they were and
wishing he could suck both of them at the same time.
     The two brothers were clearly experienced at what they were doing,
running their tongues up the length of his shaft and swirling them around
his knob, causing his stiff cock to jerk with the sharp arousal that was a
mix of pain and unbelievable pleasure.  They took turns slipping their hot,
moist mouths over his aching dick and sucking it, both of them going down
on him all the way to his curly black hairs despite the fact he was better
hung than most fifteen-year-olds, though not as well hung as Benny.  Few
fifteen year olds and not that many men were.  He was an experienced cock
sucker himself, the young Cajun trapper and alligator hunter having passed
away many a night out in the bayou with a close buddy satisfying each
other's needs, and being limber and endowed enough to suck himself off on
those nights out on the trap line by himself.
     Now he had two hot and throbbing dicks in his face and he sucked on
one and then the other hungrily, delighting not just in the unique, raw
flavour of teenage dick, but in the pleasure only a boy can know, the
pleasure of brining another boy the same pleasure as the one throbbing
between his legs.  Seeing a clear droplet of pre-cum oozing out of Benny's
twitching pecker, Frankie slipped his mouth off Bobby's stiff
thirteen-year-old cock and slipping his fingers about it and beginning to
jerk it, he bent over and flicked up the dollop of pre-cum and eagerly
swallowed the delightful sample of what was to come.  Of course another
droplet immediately oozed out of the tip of Benny's aching cock and Frankie
hungrily flicked it up too before going down on the horny
fifteen-year-old's cock and tightly clamping his lips about his throbbing
cock just below the knob to delay his ejaculation.  Benny had already done
the same to him twice, and like Benny, he wanted this pleasure to last as
long as he could.
     Louis had also already paused once to allow his lust to subside,
squeezing Andre's stiff pecker just below his knob also to prevent him from
coming too soon.  He was now once again plowing the twenty-one-year-old's
ass with a delightful frenzy, grasping his hips and working his to and fro,
driving his stiff cock in and out of the younger man's tight butt.  The two
were openly and unabashedly gasping and grunting with exertion and
pleasure, their wild, abandoned fucking causing the airboat to rock and the
dark waters of the bayou to splash against the hull and against the dock.
Both were perspiring profusely from their exertion and lust and the humid
night, the moonlight reflecting off their glistening, naked bodies and the
dark waters of the bayou.
     Once again the two youths felt the building pressure developing in
their loins and they snorted openly with lust and pleasure like two wild
animals.  Louis's long, thick cock throbbed hotly as he plunged it in and
out of Andre's hot, moist rectum, and Louis trembled with delight as he
felt his member go numb and as he felt Andre's sphincter clench down on his
cock tightly.  He knew he'd be coming any second now, and he could no
longer hold back that pleasure.  Andre too knew he was about to shoot, and
he constricted and relaxed his sphincter in time with the thick cock
plunging in and out of his rectum.  His anus burned with arousal, the
pleasure pulsating out from it like the ripples in a pond, and deep in his
loins he could feel the pressure developing, the result of the stimulation
of his anus and the stimulation of his prostate.  He opened and closed his
piss slit in eager anticipation, thinking of the pleasure of his imminent
ejaculation, and the pleasure of having his rectum filled with the jism of
the hot Cajun boy thrusting his cock in and out of his body.
     The three seventeen-year-olds under the moss-covered cypress were
thinking and feeling the same thing as the two older youths on the airboat.
Once Brett had united with him, Anton had developed a rhythmic pattern that
brought all three of them that unique and undescribable pleasure that only
guys could know, that unique pleasure of having your ass fucked and of
fucking another guy's ass.  Grasping Brent's smooth hips, Anton had slowly
drawn his hips back, drawing his stiff cock back out of Brent's rectum
while at the same time sinking down on Brett's stiff dick, impaling himself
on the blond teenager's shaft.  Carefully adjusting his position, he was
able to sink all the way down on the long, thick cock up his ass until his
butt cheeks were pressed against the blond teenager's curlies, the knob of
his own cock just beginning to stretch open the sphincter of the blood
teenager in front of him.  Easing his hips forward, he sank his aching cock
back up Brent's ass, at the same time sliding up his twin brother's cock
until he felt the seventeen-year- old's knob beginning to stretch open his
own sphincter.  Pausing to delight in the feeling of having his aching cock
surrounded by hot, moist, throbbing ass flesh, Anton slowly withdrew his
cock once more, pausing as he felt his knob beginning to stretch open the
clenched sphincter and delighting in the feeling of having his asshole
stuffed with the longest, thickest cock he'd ever had up his butt, the pain
of their union long forgotten.
     Getting use to the rhythm, Anton began to speed up, and Brent and
Brett delighted in the erotic double fuck.  Each time Anton drove his hips
forward Brent delighted in feeling his long, narrow cock plunging deep up
his rectum and he constricted his sphincter in joy as his own cock jerked
and wagged with the erotic pleasure pulsating out from his asshole.  He
quivered as Anton's cock withdrew and his knob brushed against his
prostate, sending a ripple of pleasure through his groin and up his stiff
cock, causing it to wag and jerk.  At the same time Brett grasped Anton's
hips for balance as he felt Anton's hot, moist rectum descending on his
stiff, aching prick until the horny Cajun teen's smooth ass was pressed
against his curly blond hairs and his aching, seven and a half inch cock
was buried deep up the boy's hot, moist rectum.  He exhaled with the
exquisite pleasure as Anton once again drew his hips up and he felt his
cock slowly easing back out of the boy's rectum until his knob was
stretching apart his sphincter.
     It was always a delight to feel that building pressure in his loins
and the burning pleasure encircling his knob, and especially when those
pleasures were being generated by the actions of another rather than
oneself.  When that pleasure is caused by another boy riding your cock, it
was even more intense, and knowing that at the same time that same boy was
feeling the same pleasure pulsating between his legs, and that his motions
were causing your brother's asshole and pecker to burn with the same
pleasure, it was totally mind-blowing.
     The three youngest teens were thinking the same as they hungrily
sucked and licked each other's throbbing, aching prick.  Benny loved cock
almost as much as his kid brother, and the two of them sucking and licking
the same stiff, throbbing sausage, bringing it closer and closer to
shooting, doubled their pleasure.  Having the horny, fifteen-year-old Cajun
boy sucking and licking their own cocks at the same time, knowing he was
feeling the same horniness and burning desire between his legs as they were
and knowing he was bringing your brother the same pleasure as he was
bringing you made their own approaching orgasms all the hotter.  Benny and
Frankie had already had their pre-cum flow and imminent ejaculations
delayed twice, at the same time cutting off Bobby's pending orgasm.  None
of them could hold out another time.  As the two brothers ran their tongues
up and down the throbbing bone of the young Cajun teenager they wondered
what Cajun cum would taste like, and as Frankie felt the pressure
developing in his loins to the breaking point the thought that he'd be
squirting off in the faces of two brothers made his loins ache in
anticipation.
     The laboured breathing and snorting of the eight rutting youths joined
the other natural night sounds of the bayou, the sound of young males about
to shoot forth their life-giving seed as natural as the rhythmic splashing
of the dark waters of the bayou as alligators and turtles swam through the
murky waters in search of food, as natural as the scampering of little feet
over the mossy carpet of the floating islands and the rustling in the reeds
and rushes as the little night denizens sought out their meals in the
safety of the dark.  Unable to hold back any longer, Louis thrust his hips
forward for one last time and grunted with pleasure as his hot seed gushed
up the core of his cock and filled the hot, moist rectum of the boy he'd
only met that afternoon.  Feeling his rectum flooded with hot, thick, cum,
Andre threw back his head and grasped the captain's seat and shuddered as
his swollen cock jerked and wagged and his hot, thick seed spurted out of
the tip and shot across the airboat to land in a splat in the murky waters
of the bayou.  Shot after shot spurted up his rectum and shot after shot
spurted out of his own cock and into the still, black waters.  The two
youths closed their eyes and their heads spun with the burning,
overpowering pleasure throbbing between their legs and with the release of
their seed.
     Under the old cypress, three seventeen-year-old boys were locked in
their own ecstatic release.  Brent, Brett, and Anton arched their backs as
they felt their hot, teenage cum gushing up the core of their swollen,
aching, teenage cocks and spurting out the tip, squirt after squirt
bursting forth in a rapid staccato.  Brent and Anton quivered as they felt
their assholes being flooded with hot, thick cum, and Anton furiously
jerked his hips to and fro uncontrollably, his thick cock slicking and
sliding in and out of Brent's freshly cum-lubed hole and his own hole
noisily slucking as he rode Brett's throbbing, squirting cock.  His chest
heaving and his balls drawn up tight under his stiff cock, Brent shot his
load into the rich, mossy carpet before him.  The air was filled with the
scent of fresh cum, dank and rich like the bayou itself, as the three boys
trembled with their ejaculation, delighting as much in their climax as in
having brought another boy to his.
     On the porch of the trapper's cabin, three more boys were gasping and
writhing with their own orgasms.  Benny and Bobby eagerly lapped up the
rich, thick Cajun cream spurting out of the thick brown sausage between
them, Frankie's cum as uniquely spicy and delicious as his sweat and his
cock had been.  As their hot tongues eagerly lapped up his spurting load as
it shot into the air and streamed down his throbbing sausage, Frankie
hungrily drank Benny's creamy offering, his lips tightly wrapped about the
boy's throbbing young cock as it spurted out its thick marrow.  His fingers
tightly wrapped around the throbbing young cock of his kid brother as the
thirteen-year- old thrashed and groaned with his own orgasm, again dry, but
just as overwhelmingly delightful as the wet orgasms of the two older boys.
Deeply inhaling the rich, moist air heavy with the scent of fresh cum and
boy sweat and the musky Louisiana bayou, the eight youths were as close to
nature as any boy could be.
     Sunday morning the Brewsters and their hosts packed a picnic lunch of
fresh crab meat and oyster on freshly-baked French bread spread with lemon
and dill butter, garlic pickles, a ball of Gouda cheese and French-fried
onion rings and headed back uptown for a day of parades, the Okeanos Krewe
beginning at eleven, the Thoth Krewe at 11:30, Mid-City at two, and the
twenty- seven super-float parade of Bacchus, the god of wine, at 5:15.
Giving in to Bobby's pleas, on the way home they stopped at Reverent
Zombies Voodoo Shop where the graveyard tour had begun to take a look at
the spell kits, potions and Voodoo paraphernalia for sale, but to his
disappointment he could not find what he was hoping for, and though the
clerk tried to sell him something he said would be the same when he
discretely asked out of earshot of his brothers and father, he was smart
enough to know it was a cheap tourist imitation.
     Famished when they returned home, Philippe cooked them up a hot
Louisiana sea food jambalaya with Cajun sausage, bell peppers, garlic,
shrimp and crawfish served with steamed rice.  Following supper, Philippe
and Henri got dressed for their evening out.  Despite the rich food
Philippe prepared for them, the men were in good shape, with perhaps the
slightest of pot bellies, and their leather harnesses showed off their
broad, hairy chests and muscular biceps, and their tight levis and leather
chaps revealed impressive packages.  With their high black leather boots,
chains and motorcycle caps they looked very macho and very hot.  So did
Barry, his hosts having found him a pair of tight, black leather pants, a
spiked collar, and a leather and chain harness fitted in the back with
large, black wings that matched his black feather mask perfectly and that
he blushingly modelled for his sons.
     Telling the boys not to wait up for them and leaving Andre in charge
of them, the three men headed off to the by invitation only Lords of
Leather Bal Masque XX at the St. Bernard Culture Centre.  The Lords were
the only leather Mardi Gras Krewe in the world and the theme of this year's
ball was "A Different Drummer."  James Brewster had actually met the two
men years ago at a Lords of Leather function and knowing the couple were
gay and devoted to each other but always open to safe sex with others of a
similar mind, and knowing that his older brother Barry engaged in and
enjoyed the occasional gay romp, he'd purposefully suggested Barry stay
with the couple and had told them of his bisexuality, knowing that the
three would click.  Of course at the time he'd not expected Barry's sons to
be joining him, but when that came up he had no reservations about them
joining their father, knowing also the proclivities of his four nephews,
who in fact, had been responsible for him having met the man he'd ended up
marrying.
     Although Andre knew that his uncle and his uncle's partner were into
leather and some mild S and M, he figured Barry wouldn't have the slightest
interest in anything of that nature, especially being married and having
seven children, and so he figured they were simply taking their guest out
for some Mardi Gras bar hopping.  He was not particularly into the leather
scene nor S and M himself, but he knew a friend who knew a friend and after
the hot session he'd witnessed the previous night on the bayou, he'd
managed that morning to get tickets to the ball for himself, his boyfriend
Marcel and the twins.  Although nobody was supposed to be under twenty-one,
it was an exclusive private ball and he knew that once they saw the twins
nobody was going to question their age.  Besides, it was Mardi Gras, and it
would not be the first time underage boys engaged in activities they should
not be engaging in.  So, the moment Barry and his uncle and partner left,
he and the twins got into their own costumes and after being assured by
Bobby and Benny that they'd stay in and stay out of trouble, they headed
off for the ball with Marcel.
     The theme being "A Different Drummer" Andre and Marcel had come up
with matching drummer boy costumes complete with drums and rainbow coloured
flags and leather masks, with strategically placed rips in their uniforms
to reveal their nips, bubble butts, and generous packages.  Wearing
identical leather collars and biceps and wrist bands with brass studs, low
leather boots, and studded leather jocks and nothing else except for a pair
of large white wings that matched their identical white feather masks, and
with their smooth, muscular young bodies and long, flowing blond hair,
Brent and Brett were knock out gorgeous and were immediately hit on the
moment they stepped into the St. Bernard Cultural Centre.
     The Bal Masque was one of the biggest events hosted by the Lords of
Leather and the hall was filled with members of the Krewe and their guests.
Brent and Brett stood in awe at the sight of hundreds of men of all shapes
and sizes, handsome, athletic men with waxed chests and tight leather pants
displaying bubble butts and bulging crotches, rugged, bearded men with
impossibly hairy chests, young men and old men and men in between, men who
displayed hairy beer bellies hanging over studded belts like a badge of
achievement, men with six-pack abs and chiselled chests, fat men who
waddled and whose boobs bounced when they walked, gorgeous young men who
could easily be models for Abercrombie and Fitch, lithe young men who
flitted about like mincing fairies, talking, dancing, drinking and making
out on the dance floor and in the dark recesses of the brightly decorated
hall.
     "So, you dance?" asked Andre, glancing at Brett.
     "Not really.  There isn't much opportunity for, you know, two guys to
dance where I come from."  That was one thing he envied about his straight
friends.  At high school dances they could get up and groove with the music
and have a good time with their dates without giving it a second thought.
If he and Cam dared try something like that they'd be asking for trouble,
from their peers, from the adult supervisors, from the whole community.
Even Brent and Billy could at least dance at their Wiccan ceremonies,
though he knew that wasn't exactly the same either.
     "Well, now's your opportunity," Andre said, taking Brett by the hand
and leading him out onto the dance floor.
     Glancing at Brent, Marcel similarly grabbed his hand and they followed
Andre and Brett.  At first the twins were self-conscious and awkward, but
both enjoyed music and surrounded by dozens of other couples, some
snuggling and pressing against each other in a slow shuffle, others swaying
and swinging to the music, it wasn't long before they were dancing up a
storm.  The floor was crowded and it was difficult to move without bumping
into someone, and of course with the party in full swing by the time they'd
gotten there and everyone feeling high on booze, the pot which even Brent
and Brett recognized from the sweet clouds of smoke, or just the excitement
of Mardi Gras, there were many who took advantage of the close press of
bodies to grope anyone near or to squeeze an irresistible pair of buns.
And there were those whose worse side showed with the liquor and the crowd.
     "Say, watch where you're going with those wings, buddy, or you'll find
them up your ass," a gruff, bearded giant of a man smelling of beer and
cigarettes snarled with a glare.
     "Mmm, don't you mind him, honey," another man simpered before Brent
could apologize.  "You can bump up against me anytime," he continued,
running a long, flourescent-painted fingernail along Brent's chest and
flicking his nipple ring.
     Before Brent could reply, the man was whisked away by his partner.  He
and Andre slipped to the sidelines and Andre got him a beer.  Glancing
around he spotted his brother and Marcel dancing up a storm, a huge grin on
Brett's face.  It was Brent's first gay dance, and the whole scene was
overwhelming.  He'd never been surrounded by so many men all of the same
orientation as he was, all who knew what it was like to be attracted to
other men and who openly displayed their affection.  He'd known he was gay
back in junior high and was comfortable with his orientation, but it wasn't
until that moment as he looked around the ballroom that he truly felt gay.
     With five hundred people in the centre and everyone coming and going,
either dancing or sitting at the tables along the sidelines or sidling up
to the bar or slipping into the shadows and niches purposefully created by
the decorations for privacy, or slipping out to one of the smaller rooms in
the centre where they could be more intimate, it was no surprise that an
hour passed before Brent spotted his father on the dance floor with
Philippe, the two men engaged in a slow dance and kissing each other as
they slowly rocked from side to side.  Of course both he and Brett knew
their father was bi and they'd both seen him engaged in sex both with their
mother and with other men, but seeing his father there dressed in leather
pants and a leather and chain halter being held closely by another man and
the two of them kissing was hot and it caused his dick to swell and press
against his leather cup.  Both boys loved their father, and knowing he too
could be aroused by another man had resulted in an even closer bond between
them.
     Half an hour later, seeing two gorgeous, practically naked
white-winged angels with long, flowing blond hair extending down almost to
their waists go-go dancing around a centre pole with a dozen men
surrounding them and fondling them with evident arousal, Barry did a
double-take.  His first response of course was that it was his two older
boys and he wondered how they could possibly be there at the masked ball.
His second response was wonder at there being another pair of twins so like
his own boys.  The couple could not possibly be Brent and Brett.  The Lords
of Leather Bal Masque was by membership and invitation only, and restricted
to those over the age of twenty-one.  Of course with their smooth, lithe
bodies, they didn't look over twenty-one, but then he couldn't be sure with
their masks and there were a number of young men there that could make the
same claim.  As he watched them moving to the music and clearly enjoying
themselves, he, like many others in the ballroom, felt a stirring between
his legs, something that did not go unnoticed by his two hosts.
     Heading off to the washrooms to relieve their full bladders, the
inevitable result of drinking beer although they'd only had three bottles
each, despite the ribald behaviour on the dance floor the two young,
innocent teens were surprised to find a couple making out in one corner,
their leather trousers opened and one muscular, biker-looking man on his
knees stroking his cock as he bobbed his head up and down the stiff cock of
the other man.  While they were at the urinals, another man came in to take
a leak.  Glancing at the couple making out and then over at the two
impressive dicks of the two angels at the urinals, he gave them a look of
appreciation and nodded to the row of empty cubicles.  The two boys
immediately shook their heads in the negative and shaking off their dicks,
quickly washed their hands and headed back to their hosts, admittedly
turned on but also flustered and a bit frightened by the whole scene.
     "Would the two of you like to slip away to somewhere more private?"
Andre asked, he and Marcel having discussed the possibility while the twins
were in the washroom.
     Although he wanted to, Brett glanced at Brent to see if he was
comfortable with the idea, and when he nodded, he happily did so also.
They were randier than usual, and in a way that was different though they
couldn't quite say how or why though they knew he had to have something to
do with being surrounded by so many gay and horny men, and making out with
Andre and his boyfriend would not be an unpleasant experience.  Slipping
out of the crowded, noisy dance hall, they noticed couples entering and
leaving two smaller, adjacent rooms.  Stepping into the first and finding
it too crowded, they slipped into the next.  Both rooms were in darkness
except for emergency lights with plants, dividers and decorations forming
discrete niches, many of them occupied.  Finding an unoccupied corner, the
four of them crowded in and they immediately embraced and kissed, first
Brent and Andre and Brett and Marcel and then the twins changing partners
and then all four together, Brent kissing Andre on the lips, Brett kissing
his right nipple, and Marcel kissing Brent's nipple and flipping his nipple
ring with his tongue.  As they kissed and caressed the two drummer boys
quickly shed their uniforms and put them aside along with their flags and
drums, and the leather jocks of the two angels were slipped off, revealing
gorgeous, long wands.  They continued kissing, caressing, and embracing,
their hands running over each other's smooth, muscular body, lips lightly
skipping over hairless chests and downy cheeks and cheeks with five-o'clock
shadow, Andre's stiff, narrow moustache brushing against Brent's nipple and
then Brett's cheek and now Marcel's lips, the twins' hands dropping to
caress the smooth thighs and the dangling, sweating balls of their hosts,
and then each others while other hands caressed their compact, bubble butts
and fingers ran up along their smooth cracks to finger their eager holes,
the four twisting and writhing like an eight-armed Hindu deity.
     Glancing over Brent's shoulder, Brett recognized a familiar threesome
in the shadows a dozen feet away.  Barry and Philippe were locked in a hot,
passionate kiss as they ran their fingers through each other's curly chest
hair while kneeling between them Henri was nuzzling Barry's pendulous
balls, all three men naked and erect.  Noticing Brett's gaze, Brent and
their two hosts turned to look as Henri went down on Barry's long,
impressive cock and Barry and Philippe kissed and caressed each other
feverishly.  Nibbling on Barry's ear, Philippe said something and the two
men dropped to their knees.  As Philippe bent over so he was on his hands
and knees, he spread his legs and Barry shuffled behind him, his stiff cock
dripping with Henri's spittle and glistening in the light of one of the
safety lights in the ceiling.  Searching in the dark for his levis, Henri
took a tube of KY out of the pocket and squeezing a generous glob on his
finger, he lubed up Philippe's asshole, and then squeezing out another glob
he pulled back Barry's foreskin and greased his blood-engorged, purple-red
knob.
     As Barry grasped Philippe's hips, Henri took his stiff cock and guided
it into position.  From where they were standing, the twins and their two
hosts could hear the heavy breathing of the three men and their grunting as
the two attempted to unite.  Barry, like all Brewsters, was extremely well
hung, and though Marcel was better hung than most men, he was a good two
inches shorter and a finger narrower than Barry's nine-inch monster.
Despite the experience and skill of the two men and Philippe accustomed to
being penetrated by Marcel's larger than normal cock, he had difficulty
accommodating Barry even with the lube.  The three men were wound up
however, and determined.  Slowly but surely, Barry eased his hips forward
and his massive cock ever so gradually stretched open Philippe's straining
hole until finally it popped inside.  With a sigh of relief the two men
paused to recover and then Barry slowly sank his long, thick cock up
Philippe's hot, moist rectum to the delight of both men.  Marcel stood, and
as Barry began to screw his life partner, he stepped forward and Barry
opened his mouth and slipped his lips over the man's knob.  He sucked on it
gently for a moment, and then slowly went down on it, all the while slowly
pumping his hips to and fro, working his cock in and out of Philippe's
chute, and despite Marcel's size, he slipped his lips down the length to
his hairy base.
     The twins had not even been teenagers yet when they'd begun creeping
down the hallway with their kid brothers to watch their father screwing
their mother, and it had not come as a surprise to them to learn that he'd
had same sex explorations with his brother James and with his boyhood best
pal and that he'd continued to mess around with his best pal after his
marriage.  Nor had it come as a surprise to them that their father was as
comfortable with his bisexuality as they were with their gayness.  Even so,
despite their awareness of their father's sexuality and though they
themselves had on several occasions had sex with him, it was still a shock
and wickedly hot to see their dad making out, to see him with his cock up
another man's ass and with another man's cock in his mouth, and they felt a
thrill of arousal pass up the core of their stiff cocks as they watched
him.
     Andre and Marcel of course were aware that Andre's uncle and his
partner were gay just as they were aware of Andre and Marcel's orientation,
but they'd never had sex together nor in each other's presence.  Seeing his
uncle now being doggy fucked by the biggest cock he'd ever seen, and his
uncle's life partner getting his cock sucked off by the same man, the
sexuality of his uncle and his partner become all the more real and Andre
felt a surge of lust welling up between his legs also, as did Marcel.
Turning their attention back to each other and the twins, Andre dropped to
his knees and began to suck on Brent's swollen cock, knowing now where the
twins had gotten their exceptional size from after seeing their father's
monster.  Brett similarly dropped to his knees and slipped his lips over
the swollen cock of Andre's boyfriend.  All four of them were turned on
from the hot evening and from watching the boys' father and Andre's uncle
and his partner.  Now two of them having a hot, moist mouth hungrily
sucking on their aching cocks, and the other two having a fully aroused,
throbbing cock between their lips, it was not long before the four were
oozing pre-cum.
     Flicking up the clear, sticky droplet clinging to the tip of his dick
with his finger and squeezing out a second, Andre stood and reaching behind
him and spreading apart his legs he lubed his anus with his own pre-cum.
Glancing over his shoulder at Brent, he didn't have to say anything as the
horny teen eagerly stepped forward and placed the tip of his swollen cock,
slick with his own pre-cum and with Andre's spittle, against Andre's eager
opening.  Having been fucked last night and having watched the three
seventeen-year-olds getting it on in a Cajun sandwich, Andre had been
thinking all day what it might be like to get his ass plowed by one of the
gorgeous, blond twins, and in that Brent had been the one who'd gotten
screwed the previous night, he'd chosen him to be the one to plug his butt
with that awesome seven-and-a-half inch cock of his.  Now as he felt the
youth's knob pressing against his hole, he opened up and sighed with
delight as he felt the blood-engorged flesh stretching open his pre-cum
lubed sphincter.
     Brett stood and copying Andre's action, he flicked up the thick dollop
of pre-cum clinging to his piss slit, and also squeezing out a second slimy
droplet, he too transferred his pre-cum slime to his asshole, lubing it
with his own juices.  Marcel needed no invite as the hunky blond teen
turned his back to him and he immediately stepped up, his stiff, seven-inch
cock throbbing in anticipation, the knob slick with his own pre-cum and
Brett's spit.  Grasping the teenager by the hips, he eased his own hips
forward, and between the lube of Brett's spit and their pre-cum and their
experience and skill, aided by their raging hormones, he easily penetrated
the horny young teen.  Just last night Brett had been the one to plunge his
aching cock up another boy's hot, moist asshole, and now as he felt
Marcel's rock-hard cock slipping up his rectum, he felt just as hot and
just as good as when he'd been the fucker.
     Facing each other, Andre and Brett embraced and their lips locked
together as Brent and Marcel began to screw their asses.  The kiss was long
and passionate, the two finally having to break for a breath.  Their lips
immediately met again and as Andre's stiff, thin moustache pressed against
Brett's smooth upper lip, his hands slid down the teenager's back to his
narrow waist and then around over his flat stomach.  Brett did likewise and
the two youths caressed each other's flat stomach before continuing on down
through each other's thick tangle of soft, curly hairs, one blond and the
other a rich chocolate brown, to the two stiff, aching, pre-cum dripping
pricks that had been jerking and slapping each other's abs and thighs the
moment they'd begun getting their asses fucked.  The two handsome youths,
the one twenty-one, the other seventeen, slipped their fingers about each
other's swollen, aching shaft and began to gently stroke just as they'd
stroked themselves thousands of times, delighting in the triangular
firmness of each other's bone and in the pleasure the stroking brought as
long, experienced fingers slid up the shafts and brushed against the
sensitive rim of each other's knob, the one cut and exposed, the other
encased by a long foreskin, stimulating the flow of still more pre-cum.
     Working their aching pricks into position so they were jutting upward
and trapped between their smooth, muscular abs, the two youths slipped
their hands back up each other's back and caressed each other's firm, broad
deltoids.  They pressed their stomachs together and delighted in feeling
the two hot, firm cocks pressing against their stomachs and brushing up
against their own throbbing flesh.  They began to gyrate, grinding their
swollen, irritated knobs between their abs and smearing their sticky
pre-cum over each other's flat stomach as Brent thrust his hips to and fro,
plunging his cock in and out of Andre's hot, moist asshole and as Marcel
similarly worked his cock in and out of Brett's.  Brent pressed his smooth
chest against Andre's warm, muscular back and Marcel pressed his against
Brett's and closed his eyes with delight as he felt the
seventeen-year-old's long, silky hair against his smooth pecs.

To be Continued ........