Date: Sun, 18 Feb 2001 08:14:26
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "The Brewsters Celebrate Presidents Day" (t/b, b/b, m/b, m/t)
Caution/Welcome. This is a story involving four brothers, one preteen, one
thirteen-year-old and two fifteen-year-old twins, who, like thousands of
other youngsters across the country, amuse themselves playing doctor well,
maybe not quite in the same way as thousands of other youngsters. It
starts with their mother giving birth at home during a blizzard, and then
continues on in a hospital, and well, there's real doctors, and all right,
it's the Brewster way to play doctor, okay? They are, though, like
thousands of other youngsters in that they are decent, fun-loving boys who
abhor the youth violence sweeping the country today. So, with the opening
of a chapter of the YMCA in town to give youths an alternative to drugs and
crime, the boys are eager to join up and provide their own healthy, fun,
and wet alternative, and we aren't thinking water slides. And, in between
all that, they find time to celebrate Presidents Day like millions well,
okay, like only the Brewster boys can.
This story 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
described here. This is the twenty-second story in the Brewster Boys
special events and myths series. Special thanks to Victor for suggesting
the birth scene and special surprise, to David for suggesting the boys play
doctor, and to Danny for providing the research on the YMCA. It is because
of them this story is so fucking long. Readers are welcome to send the
author, J.O. Dickingson, comments, wondrous praise, and future story ideas
at authorsix@hotmail.com The Brewster boys would like to remind all their
readers it is their patriotic duty to practise safe sex at all times, and
that is no lie, but as Benny pointed out, if you're trying to make some
little patriots, you gotta do it raw, unless you're doing it by artificial
insemination, or you happen to have a book of spells that a wizard who was
chasing you dropped.
THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE PRESIDENTS DAY
PART ONE: THE BLIZZARD
"Geez, it's really starting to snow outside," observed Benny Brewster,
looking out the living room window.
"Oh fuck yeah," commented his kid brother, eleven-year-old Bobby.
"You can't even see ol'man Swanson's house across the street."
"It's starting to blow too, lookit our fuckin' tree swaying," observed
Brett, joining his two brothers.
"Who's starting to blow who?" asked his twin brother, Brent as he
stepped into the room.
"The wind."
"Oh."
"How's Mom?"
"Okay. She finished off the sauerkraut and wants some chocolate
brownies."
"Fuck, she's eating almost as much you do," observed Bobby.
"Well, she is eating for three."
"So's Brent," Benny observed. "Himself, his right foot, and his left
foot."
"My feet aren't that big," Brent objected.
"Oh yeah? If the four of us went outside right now you're the only
one who could walk without sinking, snowshoe brother," observed Bobby.
"Up yours."
"All right," agreed Bobby.
"Gotta take Mom her brownies first."
"Kay. I'll get the KY out."
While the three brothers trouped off to their room and Brent brought
their very pregnant and very overdue mother a plate of brownies, their
father was looking out his office window at the blowing snow. His boss
being a family man, he didn't normally ask his employees to come in to work
on a Saturday, and especially on a long weekend. He particularly would not
have asked Barry Brewster to come in with his wife being a week overdue,
but an opportunity to buy out a major pet food company in Greece had
suddenly become available, and they had to move fast if they were going to
seize the moment. As third vice-president, Barry figured working the
occasional Saturday went with the job, and the possibility of a promotion
and raise coming up with the second Vice President moving to London to look
after their European operations provided extra incentive. Brenda had
assured him that she would be all right. After all, their four boys were
home, and for the past several weeks with the babies due anytime, they had
been hovering over her like mother hens.
At the moment the four mothers were surfing the net for hot gay
stories and pictures, having gotten distracted from the reason they'd gone
to their room in the first place. It was not until their server provider
went down that they realized that a major storm had blown in. Other than
being disappointed that it had happened at the beginning of a long weekend
instead of the middle of the week when they'd have had to cancel school,
the boys didn't pay much attention. Checking in on their mother, they
headed off to the family room and to the Play Station 2 they had won on
Boxing Day for a quick game before lunch.
"Boys!"
"Mom's calling," observed Brent.
"Yeah."
"Probably wants a sandwich or something."
"Boys!" Brenda called louder.
"Way to go, Brett!" his three brothers cheered as they stared at the
monitor.
"I wonder what's taking Mom so long to have her babies anyway," mused
Brent.
"Maybe Blaine and Blake like being inside her and don't wanna come
out," observed Benny, referring to their two as-of-yet unborn brothers.
The four boys looked at each other. "Yeeeeew," they choused as they
wrinkled up their noses.
"More likely Blakey is bumfucking Blaine and they're worried they
won't be able to fuck around once they're born," observed Bobby seriously.
"Yeah, bet that's it," agreed Brent, and Brett and Benny nodded in
agreement.
"Mom's way overdue," observed Benny.
"What's that mean?" asked Bobby.
"It means she's way past when she's supposed to pop."
"How do you know when you're supposed to pop?"
"You count nine months from the day you fucked and that's when the
baby is normally born. If it's later, then you are overdue," explained
Benny, the authority on trivia, especially if it had anything to do with
sex. "And if it is before, the baby is premature."
"That's what Mom said you was," observed Bobby.
"Naw," observed Brett with a twinkle in his deep blue eyes. "Mom said
Benny was immature."
"Oh yeah, that was it," said Bobby with a wide grin.
"Up yours," responded Benny, giving his older brother the finger.
"Boys!" Brenda screamed at the top of her lungs.
The four boys looked at each other. "Mom!" they chorused as they
leaped to their feet and charged down the hall to their mother's bedroom.
"Boys," Brenda gasped, her face as pale as the bed sheets, "I think
it's time."
"Time?"
"Time for what?"
"It's only eleven, Mom. Lunch is an hour away yet."
"Time to have my babies," she responded, her voice strained.
"Hey! Way cool," observed Benny with a huge smile.
"Yeah, great, Mom," his brothers chorused.
"Way to go," added Bobby.
"I mean right now. Right here," Brenda said urgently.
"Now?" the four boys said, looking at her, and then at each other.
"Here?" they asked, their eyes turning huge as they turned as one and
stared at her.
"Yes."
"I'll phone Dad to come take you to the hospital," said Brett, the
fastest thinker of the four boys.
"And I'll get your bags, just like we planned," said his twin brother
Brent as Brett turned to head to the phone.
"There's a blizzard outside," Brenda informed them. "They've been
announcing it on the radio. The streets are blocked. Besides, even if
your father could get through, he wouldn't get here in time."
"Let's phone Gramma!" suggested Bobby.
"Gramma?"
"Sure," said Bobby. "She's had babies. She's gotta know what to do."
"How's that going to help?"
"It can't be snowing in Florida. She can come."
"All the way from Florida?"
"And how is she going to land here in the blizzard?"
"Oh yeah."
"Sheeez, Bobby."
"Well, I never claimed to be the smart brother."
"Boys."
"But you're not even the good-looing one."
"Oh yeah, well I've got the cutest ."
"Boys!" screamed Brenda as another contraction ripped through her
groin.
"Oh yeah, Mom!" they chorused as they turned to look at her, eyes even
wider at the sound of pain in her voice.
"Phone emergency."
"Hey, good idea, Mom."
"What's the number?" asked Benny in a fluster as he picked up the
phone in his parent's bedroom.
"Sixty-nine," offered Bobby.
"That's not right."
"Sure it is."
"Nine one one," Brenda interjected.
"Oh yeah," said Benny.
"Emergency Operator. How may I help you?"
"You gotta help me have a baby!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I need a baby! I mean I need help. I'm having a baby!"
"You are?"
"Yes! No! My mom's having the baby! Two babies!"
"I'll connect you with the fire department."
"Fire department? I don't want no fuckin' fire department!" Benny
shouted, forgetting himself. Fortunately Brenda was having another one of
her contractions and what her thirteen- year-old son had said had not
registered as she tried not to cry out with the pain. "We don't have a
fire!"
"Tell them we do," said Bobby.
"Why?"
"Then they'll send a fire truck, and it can take Mom to the hospital."
"Hey, good thinking!"
"See, I'm not so dumb."
"It'd be cool to ride in a fire truck."
"With the alarms going!"
"Oh yeah!"
"Hanging onto a big strong fireman," suggested Brent.
"Oh yeah!" his three brothers chorused.
"Hello? Emergency Medical Services."
"Hi! My mom's having a fire!"
"Pardon?"
"Oh maaaaaan, Benny!"
"Oh, ah. I mean . . . ah ."
"Benny!" shouted Brenda.
"You gotta send an ambulance or a fire truck or something. My mom's
having a baby," Benny explained. "What do you mean you can't? You gotta!"
He listened for a moment longer. "He says there's no way an ambulance can
get through in this blizzard."
"Is there anyone else there besides you and your mom?" asked the EMT.
"Yeah. My three brothers."
"How far along is your mother?"
"She's forty."
"I mean ask your mother how far along she is."
"He want's to know how far along you are, Mom."
"The contractions began an hour ago."
"The contractions began an hour ago."
"Next time your mother has a contraction, time how long it lasts, and
then how long it takes until she has the next one. What is your address?"
Benny repeated the direction and gave the EMT their address. The four
boys stood there staring at their mother and holding their breath. They
did not have to wait long. "It lasted thirty seconds. And the next one
was like eight minutes."
"How old are you and your brothers?"
"I'm thirteen, and Brent and Brett are fifteen, and Bobby's eleven."
"Can I talk to your mom?"
Benny handed his mother the phone.
"Mam, it sounds like you've gone into labour."
"I'm afraid you're right," Brenda replied as she gritted her teeth.
"When I felt the first contraction I was hoping it was just a cramp, and as
they began to increase I'd hoped it would go slowly and I'd be able to hold
back until this storm blew over."
"How do you feel about your boys helping with your delivery?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
Brenda handed the phone back to Benny.
"We'll try to get a vehicle there, but just in case it doesn't make
it, you boys will have to deliver the baby."
"We what!"
"I'll be here on the phone telling you want to do."
"If nobody gets here we gotta do it," Benny advised his brothers.
"Do what?"
"Deliver the babies!"
Brenda grasped the sheets and cried out with her next contraction.
"Tell your kid brother to find some large, fleecy towels, the kind you
use for a bath, and warm them up in the oven."
"Bobby, you got to go cook some towels and take a bath."
"Huh?"
"Perhaps for the next little while, when I tell you something, you
repeat it word for word," suggested the EMT, having overheard the order.
"Perhaps for the next little while, when I tell you something, you
repeat it word for word."
Bobby looked at his brother, and then shrugged. "Perhaps for the next
little ."
"Not you, me."
"Oh. Well how was I to know?"
"Go find some large bath towels and warm them up in the oven,"
instructed the Emergency Medical Technician.
"Go find some large bath towels and warm them up in the oven."
"Why?"
"Why?" Benny repeated.
"To wrap up the baby when it is born."
"To wrap up the baby when it is born."
"Oh. Okay," Bobby responded, and dashed out of the room.
Brenda cried out once more, loud enough for the EMT to hear. "Time
how long each contraction is and how far apart they are."
"Time how long each contraction is and how far apart they are."
"I can do that," offered Brent. "Forty seconds, and five minutes," he
announced with the next contraction, and Benny repeated the information.
"What is your mom wearing?"
"What is your mom wearing?"
"I want you to tell me."
"I want oh, ah, well, her night gown," Benny said.
"Tell your brothers to remove the blankets, and tell your mom to lie
on her back on top of the sheets, and to raise her knees and spread her
legs apart."
"What!"
"Just do what I said and tell them."
Benny relayed the information and his brothers and mother did as he
said.
"Is she wearing panties?"
"I dunno!"
"If she is, tell her she has to remove them."
"I can't tell her that!" Benny protested, beginning to turn red.
"Tell me what?"
"You have to," instructed the EMT.
"Why?"
"Just do as I say."
"He says you gotta remove your panties," Benny said, so red his ears
felt hot.
Brenda pushed down her panties as best she could, and told Brent to
take them the rest of the way. The fifteen-year-old turned as red as his
younger brother as he took the fine cotton panties between the thumb and
forefinger of each hand and drew them down and off.
"Now one of your older brothers has to raise her night gown and tell
me if she's dilated." Benny repeated the instruction.
"I can't do that!" responded Brent.
"You have to, honey," Brenda said, and then cried out with her next
contraction. They were getting unbearable. Just then Bobby rushed back
into the room, carrying the video camera and tripod.
"What's with the camera?"
"Dad was supposed to be with Mom, remember. They been practising that
deep breathing shit. Since Dad can't be here I thought we could tape
what's happening for him."
"Hey, smart move."
"See, I'm the one that's smart and besides has the cute ."
Brenda cried out again, interrupting her youngest son.
"Forty seconds, and three minutes."
"Your bother has to look. Tell me if her labia are parted."
"Oh maaaaaan!" cried Brent as Benny repeated the instruction.
"Do it," the EMT ordered.
"Do it," Benny repeated.
"Do it!" screamed Brenda.
Glancing at his three brothers in desperation and getting no
volunteers to take his place, Brent knelt down and gave his mother a
two-second look. "Yeah."
"I think we have to begin."
"I think we have to begin."
"Begin what?" his three brothers cried.
Brenda cried out again. "I've broken my water."
"Broken it?"
"How you break water?"
"You can if it is frozen," offered Brett.
"Your water freezes if you're having a baby?"
"Your water?" asked Bobby. "When you have a baby you pee him out,
like those kidney stones Grandpa had?"
"Boys."
"I dunno."
"Maybe it helps push, you know, like water in a dam."
"Oh yeah, remember when we was on holiday and went to tour ."
"Boys!"
"Yes Mom?" they chorused, turning to look at her.
"Tell him my water has broken!"
"Oh," said Benny. "My water has broken," he said into the phone.
"Now don't worry. Your mother has had four babies already. She knows
what to do. Tell her to relax, and start her breathing and pushing
routine."
Again Benny relayed the information, and Brenda began to pant loudly
and deeply and then groaned as she pushed out. Her four boys looked at
each other.
"Is that what you and Dad have been practising each night?" asked
Benny.
"Yes," Brenda gasped.
"Oh," said her sons, having concluded the sounds were something
totally different. After two minutes, the four boys were panting and
thrusting out their abdominal muscles in time with their mother. Pant,
pant, pant, push. Pant, pant, pant, push. Caught up in the moment, the
four boys squatted down and stared at their mother's gaping twat, expecting
to see a baby pop out any second. Upon being told to do so by the EMT,
Bobby went racing off in search of a medicine dropper and sharp scissors
and to bring the towels and some wet face cloths.
"Oh shit! I mean shoot! I think one of the babies is coming out!"
announced Brent fifteen minutes later.
"Oh yeah, I can see the hair of his head!"
"Unless he's got a butt like Dad," Benny observed.
"Oh maaaaaan!" the four boys said together as the little hairy crown
pushed out farther.
Brenda and the boys panted and pushed, panted and pushed. Slowly the
head emerged.
"Oh fuck, this is so wicked!"
"Fuck yeah!"
Fortunately, Brenda had been screaming in pain at that very moment and
had not heard her sons' comments. Her knuckles were white from grasping
the blanket.
"Oh wow!" the boys gasped in unison as the baby's shoulders appeared,
and then his chest.
Brent reached out and supported the baby as he slowly emerged. At
twelve thirty, February 17, 2001, little Blaine Brewster entered the world.
"He's not breathing!"
"Oh no!"
"You have to insert the medicine dropper in his nose, and suck out the
liquid. And the same in his mouth," explained the EMT.
"Ewwww," responded Benny.
"Tell them to do it!"
Benny did, and a second later Blaine cried.
"He's alive!"
"Fuck yeah!"
"Now you have to tie the umbilical cord," instructed the EMT and Benny
repeated the order.
"I'm good at tying knots," Brent said. The first class scout and his
brothers were experts when it came to knots and had the badges to prove it.
"You have to tie the cord in two knots two inches apart, and then cut
between them with the scissors."
"Ewwww. Cut it?" Brent asked.
Wrinkling his nose and reaching out hesitantly with the scissors, the
fifteen-year-old youngster winced as he did so.
Wiping the baby off with the wet cloth, Brent wrapped him in one of
the fuzzy towels and gave him a hug and kiss before passing him to Brett.
His twin brother did the same before passing the tiny baby to Benny, who
similarly hugged and kissed the little fellow before passing him on to
Bobby. Before the eleven-year-old could hand the baby to his mom, Brenda
began to push again. This time the baby came out quicker, because he was
eager for Blaine's ass Bobby would observe later when the boys had time to
think about what had happened. At twelve-forty little Blake eased out of
his mother and into the waiting hands of his oldest two brothers.
"Oh shit! It's not working!" shouted Benny into the phone as the baby
still did not begin breathing after using the eyedropper to clear his nose
and mouth.
"Hit his backside, but not too hard."
Brett did, and baby Blake squawked. The boys all cheered.
"Guess little Blake is into S and M," observed Benny as Blake was
similarly wiped off and bundled, hugged and kissed, and passed around.
"So, aren't they cute, Mom?" Bobby asked, holding the two babies in
his arms.
In reply, Brenda grunted and pushed. The four boys looked at each
other in wide-eyed surprise, and quickly swatted down to look at their
mother's straining pussy once again.
"Oh man, I see another head!"
"No way!"
"Yes way! Look!"
All four boys leaned in closer as they stared at their mother's
swollen, gaping twat. Another head was pressing out.
"Oh maaaaan!"
Slowly the third baby emerged, arriving at twelve fifty-five. The
doctor was to explain to the surprised parents later that the little girl
had been placed behind her brothers in the womb and nobody had noticed her
in the ultrasound. Besides, the heartbeats of the two boys had made it
difficult to realize there was a third heart beating.
"Hey! It's a girl!"
"A girl?"
"Oh wow!"
"Way to go, Mom!"
"Good thing I had some extra blankets," said Bobby.
"Oh, isn't she cute!"
"Oh yeah!"
"Hi little girl!" said Benny as he took her.
"You got any more hiding in there, Mom?" Bobby asked as he zoomed the
camera for a close-up of her pussy.
In response, Brenda pushed and gasped and as Bobby videotaped his
three brothers hurried to watch, just in time to see the afterbirth emerge.
Turning green, the four boys would have lost their lunch had they had any.
They finally handed the three babies to their mother. She beamed down at
the triplets, her face flushed and streaked with sweat, and then smiled up
at her four boys.
PART TWO: PLAYING DOCTOR
Fifteen minutes later there was a knock at the door. The
neighbourhood Disaster Services Team had heard the call to 911, and had
dispatched several of their members by snowmobile to the Brewster residence
as soon as they could. Bundling up Brenda, boys and babies, they headed
off to the hospital to be sure everyone was all right. A very surprised
Barry was similarly brought to the hospital by a member of the team. After
making sure his boys were all right, he was taken to see his wife.
"Geez, it's taking forever for them to check out Mom and the babies,"
sighed Benny as he slouched back in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the
waiting room and glanced up at the clock. His father had been gone for
fifteen minutes, and the minute hand hadn't even moved to the next minute
since he'd last looked.
"You can fuckin' say that again," observed his kid brother Bobby.
"Geez, it's taking Mom fore ," began Benny before being punched by his
three brothers.
"Fuck, I got to go bad," observed Bobby, pinching the tip of his dick.
The boys were alone in the waiting room, not that that would have made any
difference to the youngster regarding his actions or language.
"Yeah, me too," said his older brother, Benny. Reaching over and
taking Brent's hand and placing it in his lap, he squeezed Brent's fingers
around his dick.
"I wonder how much longer Mom is going to be?" Brett mused.
"That was fucking awesome seeing the babies being born, wasn't it?"
Brent commented.
"Oh yeah! Totally!" agreed Bobby.
"I didn't know it took so fucking long to have a baby," observed
Benny.
"Sure didn't take Mom and Dad this long to make the babies," commented
Brett, and the four boys grinned as they thought back nine months to the
day they'd added some Spanish fly to their mother's breakfast. That had
been one Mother's Day they and their parents, and Henry Schwartz, were not
going to forget.
"Well, I got to go find a can and take a leak," Bobby finally said as
he got to his feet.
The four boys headed down the hall in search of a bathroom, the
urgency they were feeling the result of several cans of soda pop each.
Passing a cart with several dozen tiny bottles of clear yellow fluid, the
boys glanced at each other, and grabbing as many empty bottles as they
could manage, disappeared into the linen closet.
"Ohhh maaaaan," sighed Benny with relief as he let loose, I thought I
was going to wet my pants for sure.
"Oh yeah," sighed Bobby. "My eyes were starting to turn yellow."
"Hey, be careful! You're splashing!"
"I can't help it. I got to go like a race horse!"
"How come when you got to go bad they say it's like a race horse?"
"I dunno," observed Benny.
"You don't?" asked his three brothers in amazement.
"Not yet."
"Oh fuck, hand me another bottle quick, this one's just about full!"
"How? I'm holding my dick with one hand and this specimen bottle with
the other."
"I'll hold it," offered Bobby.
"How'd you do that?"
"If there's a dick hanging out Bobby'll find some way to grab it."
"Hey quit your fuckin' shoving."
"It's Brent's fault, he pushed me."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"We better be quiet or someone will hear us," warned Brett, quieting
them down.
"Wonder where they're taking those specimens anyway?" Brent asked.
"Who cares," observed Brett as he reached for a third bottle. "I'm
just glad we found the cart when we did."
To that his brothers agreed and the four boys fell silent as they
filled every one of the tiny bottles they'd grabbed. Peeking into the
hallway, they quickly slipped out and added the now full and capped bottles
to the rows of the others just in time as two orderlies stepped out of the
room on the other side of the hall.
"I'll catch you later then," said one as he began to push the cart.
"I better get these bottles of apple juice down to maternity."
"Those weren't specimen bottles," whispered Brent, his eyes growing
wide as he glanced at his brothers.
"Ooops," his three brothers responded and the four turned as one and
watched the orderly turn the corner at the end of the hall.
"Hope they drink up all those bottles before they get to Blaine and
Blakey and our baby sister," observed Bobby worriedly.
"They won't give them apple juice already," observed Benny, redeeming
himself after his earlier lack of knowledge. "They got to drink mother's
milk for a while."
"Oh yeah," the eleven-year-old said relieved.
"Remember spying on Mom when she fed Bobby?" asked Brett.
"Oh yeah," his two brothers said with grins.
"Her boobs were awesome," Brent said as he thought back.
"They still are," observed his twin brother as he pushed back his
long, blond hair and his brothers all readily agreed
"And Bobby was so cute," observed Brent.
"Too bad he had to grow up," teased his twin. "It's like the ugly
duckling, but in reverse."
"Cept his dick didn't grow up its still the same size," observed
Benny.
"Fuck you," responded his kid brother.
"He still sucks like a vacuum cleaner," started Benny.
"But not on tits," chorused his twin brothers along with him.
"Found something better," agreed Bobby, his hazel eyes twinkling as he
ran his fingers through his gelled, spiked, dark brown hair.
"So what we gonna do?" asked Benny with a bored sigh.
The four boys glanced at each other. "Find someone to play doctor
with," they chorused.
Half an hour later found them charging down the hall after being
interrupted by a nurse just as they were about to double check an old man's
temperature by slipping his rectal thermometer under his tongue. Ducking
into the first room they came to, the four boys dashed over to the trolley
in the corner of the room and crouched down behind it. Their hearts rose
to their throats as the door opened a second later.
"Now, Mister Lars, I'd like you to drop your pants and underwear and
sit up on the examination table," the doctor said as he closed the door.
The boys glanced at each other, and with wide grins, carefully peeked
out to watch. To them, the two men were old, the doctor being at least
fifty and the man pushing down his no brand boxers being even older. His
dick was circumcised, and looked tiny compared to his huge belly, which
flopped more than his dick did as he heaved himself up onto the examination
table. The way it jiggled reminded the boys of the fun they'd had with
Santa, which seemed ages ago.
"Now," began the doctor as he sat on a stool and pulled himself up to
the table, "as I was explaining, being able to obtain an erection and keep
it is determined by, among other things, circulation."
Benny leaned forward, ears perked and eyes wide, eager to add to his
store of sexual knowledge. Slipping on a pair of surgical gloves, the
doctor picked up the man's penis and examined it closely. He tugged on the
shaft a few times and gently ran his fingertips over the man's glans, and
then lifted up the still limp penis and examined the thick vein underneath.
The four Brewster boys were far from limp themselves, and as one they
decided then and there that when they grew up they were going to be
doctors, specializing in cocks and balls well, maybe cocks, balls and
assholes.
"We've been able to determine that your arteries are not dilating, so
the blood they are transporting to your penis is not slowing down and
collecting. There are pills you can take, but with your weight, I'm not
advising it."
"I know, I know," the man sighed. "I have to lose fifty pounds."
"In the meantime, I'm prescribing this for you, LTC," the doctor said,
taking a jar out of his pocket of his lab coat and opening it up,
"L-arginine trans-dermal cream. L-arginine is a naturally occurring amino
acid. At one time we used to inject it directly into the penis to increase
circulation," he explained, and the four boys eavesdropping cringed with
the thought and instinctively reached down to protect their now throbbing
dicks. "However, pharmacists have come up with this cream that penetrates
the skin instead, which is less cumbersome and expensive, and of course
eliminates any pain. It is very potent, so you must be sure to use only
the tiniest amount," he instructed, running the tip of his index finger
across the surface of the cream and after showing it to his patient,
running the tip of his finger along the blue vein under his penis. "Just a
faint streak up the length of your penis, and in a matter of minutes, it
will become erect."
"What happens if I put on too much?"
"The cream is absorbed and retained by the erectile tissue of the
penis, and the only way to remove it is for the body to break it down. The
more you put on, the more your penis will absorb."
"Which means?"
"Which means you could end up with an erection for an hour or even
more instead of the few minutes you need to have intercourse," the doctor
said with a smile, and the four brothers glanced at each other and tried to
imagine what it would be like to only have an erection for a few minutes.
"There, you see, it is working already."
The four Brewster brothers strained forward, causing the cart to begin
rolling toward the examination table in their eagerness. Fortunately, the
two men were concentrating on what was happening between Mister Lars' legs
and did not notice the advance and sudden retreat of the cart. All six
stared intently as his penis slowly rose up until it was fully erect and
sticking out perpendicular to his body. Setting his stop watch, the doctor
explained more bout the cream, and about the diet he had prescribed his
overweight patient, topics Mister Lars had difficulty concentrating on
considering his condition. The four Brewster boys were having the same
difficulty, and besides, were wondering when he or the doctor was going to
do something about the woody poking out from under his big belly. Five
minutes later he began to go limp.
"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asked, and the man shook his
head. "Just remember how much I put on," he said as he got up and removed
his gloves. "While you get dressed, I'll drop these papers and the cream
off with the nurse. I want you to set up an appointment with her for two
weeks from now to see how you're doing on that diet, and how you're making
out with the LTC."
"Yes, sir."
As soon as the two men left, the four brothers emerged from their
hiding place, all four with protruding trousers and with the same objective
on their mind. Hurrying to the nurse's station, they didn't even have to
discuss what they were going to do. While the twins distracted her with a
bit of roughhousing, Benny slipped behind her to pocket the cream while
Bobby stood on the side ready to jump in and use his boyish charm to keep
her attention in case Benny needed more time. The boys rendezvoused around
the corner.
"Fuckin' awesome," said Bobby as Benny reached into the pocket of his
cargo pants and held up the prize.
"Imagine a cream to give you a boner," Brent said wondrously.
"That's science for you," observed Brett.
"Yeah, isn't it wonderful?" Bobby responded. The two brothers had a
special interest and aptitude for the sciences. Combining that interest
with sex, their other special interest and aptitude, was awesome.
"Imagine having to inject it in your wiener," commented Benny.
"Ewwwww," the four boys responded with a cringe.
"How come that guy didn't do anything when he got it hard anyway?"
asked Bobby. "He didn't even touch it!"
The twins shrugged their shoulders and the three boys looked at Benny.
"Adults got this thing about touching themselves in front of other,
and jerking off being secret and only done in private and stuff," he
observed.
"Well the doctor could have sucked it off for him. He was in perfect
position," Bobby said with a hint of disgust at the doctor's inaction.
"Adults also got this thing about having sex only with someone you've
like loved for a hundred years," Benny observed.
"Oh yeah," his brothers nodded wisely.
"Well, that's fucking dumb," said Bobby. "Sex feels great, and
everyone enjoys it, so why not do it whenever and wherever you want. If I
was President, I'd make that a law."
"Well, our President sortta made it a law for himself," Benny said
with an impish grin, and the four boys giggled.
"Anyone feel like having a relationship?" asked Brent.
"Fuck yeah!" his three brothers agreed with wide grins, and the four
brothers charged down the hall in search of some place private. Passing a
trolley of linen they each grabbed a couple sheets to lie on and dashed
into the first room they came to, practically knocking over the elderly
woman waiting inside.
"Ooops," they responded, veering to her right and her left as they
skidded to a stop. "Ah, ummm. . . ."
"Think you got the wrong room, lady," observed Brett and his brothers
smiled at him, grateful he was able to think so fast.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, ah, why are you seeing a doctor?"
"I've sprained my wrist."
"Oh," said Brett. "Sprained wrists are in the room across the hall."
"Oh yeah," agreed his brothers, surrounding her and beginning to guide
her to the door.
"Oh. Ah, well, all right," she replied, flustered by the four
bouncing, highly energized boys bounding around her in an evident state of
agitation.
"All right!" the four brothers said, turning to each other and
high-fiving with huge grins as the door closed.
Bunching up their sheets and tossing them in a pile, they had their
flies down and their stiff dicks out in a matter of seconds. They were
about to drop to the floor when they heard the door knob turning. Looking
at each other in wide-eyed panic, Brent, Brett and Benny dove under the
pile of sheets while Bobby leaped upon the exam table and lay on his
stomach.
"All right, Mrs Mu-, uh," the young man said, glancing down at his
clipboard and then up at Bobby. "You're not Mrs Mulberry."
"Nope," Bobby replied curtly, having managed to ram his stiff dick
back in his pants and glad he'd decided to copy Benny and wear his bulky
Gap cargo pants and not his tight black jeans. "She's in the room across
the hall." Looking up and seeing the young good-looking doctor, his
worried expression suddenly turned to a bright, cheerful smile, and then
just as instantly to a look of pain and apprehension. "B-, b-, but I'm s-,
s-, sure glad you're here," he stammered, his eyes drawing narrower and his
lower lip quivering as if he was about to cry. "I- . . . i-, it's real
sore."
"It is?" the man asked, closing the door and stepping up to him in
concern. "What is sore?"
"My, my, my pee-er," Bobby said, his voice quavering as he looked up
into the man's deep blue eyes imploringly and his dick throbbed hotly in
his underwear.
The pile of sheets on the floor quavered as the three boys underneath
stifled their laughter. Fortunately the young man's back was turned, and
he was too concerned about the young boy in obvious pain to notice.
"What happened?" he asked, putting down his clipboard as Bobby sat up
on the examination table.
"It's all swollen up," Bobby said, his hazel eyes growing big as he
looked up at the handsome young man with all the innocence he could muster.
"It think it got bit by a bee." The sheets on the floor heaved and there
was a muffled snort and a sound like someone jabbing someone else in the
ribs.
"By a bee? In February?"
"Maybe a mosquito? A flea?" Bobby asked desperately. "A tarantula?
I was eating a banana for breakfast, from South America I think. Yeah,
that's it. I read once about tarantulas being in bananas. Anyway, mine's
all big and swollen and hurts. Real bad," he added, his voice quivering
once again as he remembered he was in pain.
"Well, ah, maybe I should see it, I guess," the man replied, trying
not to smile. The kid had one wild imagination, and was definitely an
actor. Having been a precocious child himself, he had a pretty good idea
what the boy had been up to, and what had happened.
"Okay," Bobby replied brightly, and in less than a minute he had
dropped his cargo pants and pushed down his tight white Stanfield regular
rise briefs with a double panel fly front and support pouch, his dad's
favourite style of briefs so one of Bobby's also.
He had not been lying. His cock was swollen, and red. As the young
man crouched down to look at it, three heads cautiously peeked out from the
pile of linen on the floor.
"It is swollen, and red," he observed.
"You a doctor?" Bobby asked as he raised his hips, pushing his swollen
cock in the man's face. "You look way young."
"I'm an intern," the young man replied.
"Yeah? What's that?" asked Bobby, raising his butt off the bed so his
erect penis was practically under the intern's nose.
"I'm a doctor in residence," the man replied with a smile as he drew
his head away.
"Oh," said Bobby, pretending to be disappointed. "Then I guess you
can't tell me what's wrong with my poor pee-er."
"Oh, I think I can," the intern said with a knowing smile.
"Yeah? Fu-, ah, ah, great!"
"You've been fiddling with it, haven't you?"
"Oh no, unh-unh, no way, absolutely fucking not."
"What is your name?"
"Bobby. What is yours?"
"Leonard. Ah, Doctor Leonard Rossland," the young intern responded.
"Now, tell me the truth."
"You won't tell my mom will you?" Bobby asked fearfully. "She'll kill
me. She'll cut if off! She says it's wrong to fiddle with it. She says
boys don't do it. She ."
"That's all right, calm down," the young intern responded, putting his
hand on the excited youngster's leg. "I'm not going to tell her."
"Oh, good," said Bobby with a gleeful smile, immediately calming down
and shifting his leg ever so slightly and unobtrusively in an attempt to
get the doctor's hand and his dick closer together.
"Actually, your mother's response is still sadly very typical, but
this is one situation where I'm afraid your mother is wrong."
"Yeah, really?" Bobby said, looking up at the intern all eyes and
ears.
"It is quite natural for young boys to fiddle with themselves."
"It is?" Bobby asked in such amazement it was all the three boys under
the sheets could do to stop from exploding with the laughter they were
holding in.
"Oh yes. And there's nothing wrong with doing it, medically speaking.
But you can't be so rough with it," he added with a smile as he glanced
down at the boy's abused organ.
"Oh," responded Bobby. "I don't really know how to do it right." The
sheets on the floor bounced.
"Well," the intern said with a laugh, and then quickly caught himself.
"There is no right and wrong way," he continued seriously. "You just have
to be more gentle."
"I don't understand," Bobby said. "Can you show me?"
"Well," the intern chuckled. "I don't think so. You just ."
"This is how I do it," Bobby said, grabbing his stiff dick and
whacking the tip furiously.
"Whoa, whoa!" the intern said, grabbing his fist. "No wonder it's so
red and sore." Bobby looked at him with his big, hazel, puppy-dog eyes.
The intern paused, and then smiled. "You're supposed to do it slow, and
gentle. Take your time and enjoy it." Reaching out, he took the red,
irritated organ and gently stroked it. Bobby's tiny cocklet throbbed hotly
in the intern's hand. "You know, maybe we better put a bit of lotion on
it. You've really chaffed yourself."
"Kay," Bobby said agreeably.
"I'll be right back," he said, getting to his feet.
The three heads ducked back under the linen pile. The minute the door
closed the three boys threw off the linen sheets and collapsed in laughter.
"Awww, will the doctor look at my wittle pee-er, it's real thore,"
chortled Benny and he and the twins rolled over as they hooted and giggled
with amusement.
"Bobby, you're such a con!"
"Yeah," he said cheerfully. "I take after my older brothers. Now get
fuckin' lost before Doctor Rossland gets back and finds out you've been
under those sheets all along."
"And what about you?"
"I'll join you back in the maternity ward once he gives me a good
wank."
"Bet you'll get him to do it too," observed Brent, the
fifteen-year-old's deep blue eyes shining with admiration as he looked at
his kid brother.
"Fuck, bet Bobby will wank the doc off too," observed Benny.
As much as the brothers would have preferred to stay and watch, they
knew it was too risky, and they knew their kid brother had a much better
chance alone. Reluctantly, they stepped outside, just before the
well-intentioned intern returned. Opening the jar, he handed it to Bobby.
"Can you put it on?"
"I think you'd better do it yourself."
Bobby took a scoop of cream, way too much for himself. "Oops," he
said as he dabbed a large dollop on his stiff dick. The intern turned and
reached for a towel. "You didn't really go for lotion, did ya," Bobby said
in an accusing voice as he turned around.
"Why, of course I did," he responded in surprise.
"You went to tell my mom on me, didn't you."
"Of course not."
"I know you did. That was all a lie about it being okay for guys to
do it so you could leave and go tell my mom, I know."
"I was telling you the truth."
"You do it when you were a kid?"
"Yes. Practically everyone does it at some time."
"You still do it?"
"Yes. Sometimes, sure," he responded, trying to convince the
youngster it was a natural thing to do.
"Prove it."
"Huh?"
"See, you're lying. You don't do it. Nobody does it. Just losers
and wimps and perverts do it. That's what my friends all say."
"Nonsense. Like I said, everyone does it at some time."
Bobby looked at him expectantly, and after a moment's debate, the
young intern pulled down his fly and reached in for his cock. He could
tell from the boy's attitude and voice that he was not going to believe
mere words. Feeling extremely self conscious, yet feeling a need to
alleviate the boy's worries and feelings of guilt, he slowly withdrew his
limp penis. Pushing aside the remaining nagging doubt that what he was
doing was right, he looked up at the boy with what he hoped was a
reassuring smile and slowly began to tug on his cock. The wrong thing here
was the guilt the boy's mother had laid on him for doing what was only
natural, not masturbating in front of the boy, and besides, he'd only do it
for a moment to convince the boy fiddling with yourself was nothing to be
ashamed of. After all, he was a doctor, and this was a medical problem in
a way.
"Here, I got too much of this stuff," Bobby said suddenly, pushing
Doctor Rossland's hand away and smearing the cream on his dick. The
soothing cream, the boy's hot little hand, and the sight of his stiff
little dick slathered with the thick cream were impossible to ignore. His
penis began to swell, and once it did, Bobby intensified his attack. "So,
when you said I should do it slow and gentle, you mean like this?" he asked
with wide-eyed innocence as he carefully worked the cream into the doctor's
skin and wiped the excess on the back of his hand over his exposed knob.
"Ah, yes," the intern replied, not sure what to do. This was not
exactly what he'd had in mind to put the boy's mind at ease, and it
certainly was not a situation they taught you about at university. Bobby
continued to stroke the man's rapidly growing cock with his right hand as
he worked the cream into his little boner with the other and the intern
tried to think of a way to put an end to this without making the boy feel
guilty. Before he was able to think of anything, the young intern was not
just hard, but was being enthusiastically wanked by the eleven-year-old
boy.
Bobby's brothers had wandered the halls in the meantime, thinking
about their kid brother's good fortune and finding nobody to play with
themselves. Brett, the problem-solver of the four brothers, finally
suggested that they go back, catch the intern and Bobby in a compromising
position, and blackmail the stud into servicing all of them. His two
brothers readily agreed and the three boys quickly headed back to the room.
They entered the hallway just in time to see another doctor entering the
room. The three boys raced down the hall and leaned against the door to
listen.
"So, this is the emergency you had to attend to that you asked Doctor
Morgan to attend to the sprained wrist?"
"Ah, yes sir."
"And just what is it that you're doing, doctor?"
"Well, you see, the boy's member was irritated, and well, I got him
some lotion to ease the chaffing."
"And you decided he need the extra practice so you asked him to put
the lotion on you also?"
"Well, no," Doctor Rossland responded with a blush, not sure how to
explain what had happened.
"Well?" the senior doctor persisted.
"Well, the boy was feeling guilty about masturbating, and well. . . ."
"And so you pulled yours out and told him to do yours also," the
doctor said sarcastically.
"Well, no, not, well ."
"Well get your dick back in your pants and wait for me outside," the
older doctor said angrily. "I'm putting you under suspension."
"But ."
"Now, doctor!"
The three brothers looked at each other in alarm. This could get
their kid brother in trouble, and besides, in their opinion Doctor Rossland
wasn't doing anything wrong. Grabbing the trolley the doctor had left in
the hall, Brett suddenly opened the door and barged into the room with it,
his two brothers right behind him. They had no idea what his plan was, but
they knew their brother, and whatever he had in mind, they were sure it
would be good. The fifteen- year-old actually had two plans, figuring if
the first didn't work, he could always use the trolley as a hurdle to block
the two doctors while they made an escape with Bobby.
"Bobby, what is taking you so whoa! Wow!" Brett said, glancing at
Bobby, and then at the two doctors.
"Yeah, wow!" echoed Benny.
"Yeah," Brent joined in support.
"What's going on, Bobby?"
"Well, ah, well," Bobby replied, looking at his brother pleadingly for
some hint what he was expected to say.
"How come you and this guy both got your dicks out?"
"Oh," replied Bobby brightly, "this nice doctor here, he was telling
me how to jack off proper, so I wouldn't hurt my pee-er," he said with the
wide-eyed innocence of a child. "His is awesome to wank."
"You wanked him?" Brett asked, pretending to be surprised.
"I was, until this other doctor came in."
"This guy touch your dick, Bobby?" he asked, looking at Doctor
Rossland.
"Sure."
"I was just checking it," Doctor Rossland objected. "I'm a doctor."
"Yeah, right," observed Brent.
"Now wait a minute. I wasn't ."
"And what about this guy? He touch you too, Bobby?"
"Oh, he was just watching."
"Oh," said Benny. "I know your type. You're a voyager"
"A what?"
"A guy who likes to watch other guys having sex."
"You mean a voyeur."
"So you admit it."
"No!"
"Of course you don't."
"They never do."
"Geeez, your bother comes to the hospital sick and two sicko pervs
corner him in a room and start abusing him."
"Boys, you got this ."
"I think we need to teach them a lesson," Brett observed.
"Oh yeah," agreed his brother.
"Get off the table, Bobby," Brett ordered.
Bobby readily slipped off and as Brett began to back the second doctor
up to the table, his three brothers joined him. "Boys," he warned as they
backed him up to the exam table. "Boys, wait," he warned as they swarmed,
pushing him onto his back and raising him up onto the table at right angles
to it. Grabbing the box of stretch bandages the nurse had left on the
stand for Mrs Mulberry, they wrapped his arms together behind him and then
tied them to the frame of the table. Pushing the intern onto his back
beside him, they similarly bound his wrists together and to the back frame
of the table too.
"Boys! Now enough! You let ufff ," ordered the doctor before Brett
taped his mouth shut with a piece of adhesive tape.
He quickly applied a strip to the intern's mouth even though the man
had been so bewildered he had not said anything. Rolling the table over to
the door, they raised the men's legs in the air and tied them to the coat
hook on the back of the door.
"So, now what?" asked Brent, and the three brothers looked at Brett
expectantly.
"Now we play doctor," said Brett with a grin.
"First I guess we got to take off their clothes," observed Benny.
"I'll take off their pants," offered Bobby quickly.
The two men struggled helplessly against their bonds and muttered
their objections as the four brothers unbuttoned their shirts and pulled
them up from under them and so they were bunched behind their necks and
provided a bit of a pillow for their heads. By that time Bobby had their
pants and underwear pulled up to their bound ankles and taped up with
adhesive tape so they wouldn't slide back down.
"Brent and me will take, umm, Doctor David Garret," Brett said,
looking at the name tag, "and you two can take ."
"Doctor
Leonard Rossland," finished Bobby.
"David Garret," said Brett as he picked up the clipboard and finding a
blank form, wrote his name on it. "Now, what is your date of birth,
David?" he continued, looking down at his patient. "Doctor?" he asked
again. "Hmmm, patient is deaf and can't speak," he observed as he wrote on
the form. David Garret squirmed and mumbled in his gag. "Correction,
speaks unintelligibly."
"What about you Leonard?" asked Bobby as he picked up the other
clipboard, and when he got the same reply, the eleven-year-old doctor
repeated the diagnosis. "What do you think is the cause, Doctor?" he asked
Benny.
"Could be paralysis," said Benny. "Let's see if we get any nipple
response."
"Wait, I'll time," said Bobby as he looked at his wristwatch. "Okay,
begin test."
As Benny began to caress and tweak one teat, Bobby began to fiddle
with the other, and the twins did the same to their patient. Of course
both men squirmed and voiced their objections, which their doctors ignored.
In just over a minute Leonard's teats were hard, and David was only seconds
behind.
"Nope, can't be paralysis," Bobby announced, giving his patient one
last tweak, and Brett proclaimed the same for their patient. "Nipples get
hard in one minute, fifteen seconds," Bobby said as he wrote it on the pad.
"Write down there's no nerve damage between his teats and the rest of
his body," Benny directed, stroking the hard nipple with the tip of his
fingers and causing his patient to buck his body in response.
"So why do you think it is they can't hear or speak proper?"
"Bet it's a stroke," announced Brett.
"How we check for that?"
Brett had to think for less than five seconds. "We stroke the inside
of their thighs."
"I know what response to watch for for that," Bobby giggled.
As the boys began to gently caress the sensitive insides of the men's
thighs, each boy taking a leg, their two patients began to respond just as
Bobby had suspected, much to the merriment of the boys. The two men,
laying basically on their shoulders with their hips raised high in the air
and their legs securely taped to the coat hook, could do nothing to avoid
it. Their pricks slowly began to engorge with blood in response to the
gentle stroking of their thighs, and laying as they were side by side, they
could not hide what was happening from the other.
Their cocks were soon fully aroused and pointing down at them
accusingly. Finding a measuring tape, Brent and Bobby proceeded to measure
their two erect victims, declaring the older doctor the winner for length
at six and three-quarters compared to the younger doctor a six and a half,
but the younger doctor the winner for circumference at four-and-a-half
inches, just a quarter of an inch more than David. The measurements were
dutifully recorded by their two partners.
"Too bad we didn't measure them when they were soft first," said
Bobby.
"Oh yeah," agreed Brent.
"Got an idea," announced Benny. Searching David's pockets, he pulled
out his wallet, and looking inside, pronounced that it would be enough.
Opening the door and pushing the table back enough so he could squeeze out,
his brothers looked about the room and tried to think of other things they
could do while they waited for him to return. Several minutes later he
returned with eight cans of pop and an armful of chips.
"Hey, yeah, this doctoring has gotten me thirsty, and hungry,"
observed Bobby and he and his brothers grabbed a bag and a can.
"The pop's not for drinking," he announced. "We have to do something
first."
"What?"
"This," he said, motioning for Bobby to join him. Placing his ice
cold can along his patient's still erect cock, he motioned for Bobby to
place his can along the other side. Of course he immediately began to
shrink and while Bobby continued to press his can against the now limp
noodle, Benny placed his cold can under the man's balls, with immediate
results.
The twins giggled and did the same until their patient's nuts had
drawn back into his body and his dick had shrivelled up. "Chucky's dick is
bigger than theirs now," giggled Bobby. With much amusement, the doctors
again measured the lengths and circumferences and recorded the "cold
cocked" statistics.
"Now what?" asked Brent as he opened up a bag of chips and stuffed a
handful in his mouth.
The boys continued their search of the room. "Hey, what the hell is
this?" asked Bobby, taking a narrow ten-inch-long metal tube out of a
leather bag on the trolley. One end had an electric bulb and the other was
shaped like a funnel with a metal handle and what looked like a plunger.
"Looks like a phaser or something. Take that you Romulan scum, phssss,
phssss," he said, spinning around and pointing the weapon at his imaginary
enemy.
"Oh fuck! Oh wow!" said Benny taking the strange looking device.
"So what is it?"
"A protoscope, right?" he said, looking at doctor David Garret. Of
course the man could not reply. "I'm going to take your gag off," Benny
said, "but if you holler out I'll ram this thing down your throat." When
he yanked the tape off the man's mouth, the man yelped, and then looked
fearfully at the boy, certain he really would ram the instrument down his
throat. "I always wanted to do that," Benny said with a grin as he looked
at the adhesive tape. "Now, this is a proctoscope, isn't it?"
"Yes," the man replied. "How did you know?"
"Our brother knows lots of stuff."
"Yeah, he's the smart one," observed Brent.
"Smart but ugly," said Brett.
"And with the smallest dick."
"Get funny and I'll use this on you," Benny warned.
"What is a proctoscope for anyway?"
"For looking up a guy's rectum."
"Yeah, right," giggled Bobby.
"Com'on, Benny. What is it really for?"
"I'm serious."
"No fucking way."
"See," he said, walking behind Doctor David Garret. "I think this end
goes in, like this, and then if you turn this, it . . . yeah, see. It's
got optic fibres."
"Fuck!"
"Look at that!"
"Boys," gasped Doctor David Garret, "you be careful."
"Don't worry," replied Benny, but the doctor was not reassured.
The boys watched as Benny slowly eased the tube farther into the man's
rectum, and then bent down and looked through the lense.
"What do you see?"
"I don't see shit."
"That's good, no?" asked Bobby.
"I don't mean I don't see any shit. I mean I don't see anything."
"Oh. Let me look," Bobby said eagerly.
Each of the boys took a turn as the doctor turned a bright red and the
intern felt embarrassed for him. The boys slowly inserted the tube until
it was in as far as they could push it, and Bobby recorded on the chart,
"patient has nice clean butthole."
"Hey, I know what this is," announced Brett, looking in the bag on the
trolley.
"Oh yeah, we seen those on lots of sex sites," said Bobby as his
brother pulled out the device, and then glancing at the two men, quickly
added, "those darn sites just keep popping up no mater what you're trying
to find on the net, like just like last week when I was looking up how to
make my mom a present for valentines, or the week before that when I was
looking for a birthday card for my granma for her ninety-first birthday, or
when ."
"We get the idea, Bobby," Benny interrupted.
Hooking the two enema bags on their patients' upturned legs, the boys
were soon gleefully pumping the contents up the men's rectums, trying to
see which could hold the most. Just as the pressure in their rectums was
about to become unbearable, Brent found a straight razor and a tube of soap
foam in the bag, distracting his three brothers, which was not a difficult
thing to do. Spraying the foam between the legs of the two men, the boys
took turns shaving them, much to the doctors' apprehension, until their
pubes and stomachs were as smooth as Bobby's. Getting carried away, as
they usually do, they shaved their patient's backsides, thighs and chests
besides.
"How long you supposed to leave that enema stuff in them anyway?"
Bobby asked as they finished up.
"I dunno, six or seven hours I think," said Benny.
"No!" responded David Gerrard. "You're supposed to evacuate it right
away." Now that his fears concerning the sharp blade of the straight razor
were over, he became even more aware of the fluid filling his rectum.
"I know," said Brett. "We'll evacuate it as soon as you suck us off."
"Oh yeah, great idea," said Brent.
The twins pulled out their dicks, and scrambling up onto the
examination table and straddling the two hapless men, they fed them their
rapidly swelling dicks. The men knew the boys probably were not going to
let them evacuate their bowels until they had sex with them, and their
bowels were aching so badly they felt like they were going to burst.
Knowing just how much solution the boys had pumped into them, that was not
unlikely.
So, the two men eagerly began to suck and work their lips up and down
the two stiff five- and-three-quarter inch cocks in desperation. Neither
had ever done such a thing before, but Leonard had a girlfriend who
occasionally did him, and David and his wife engaged in oral sex on
occasion so both men knew what to do. Being doctors, and having expounded
on the joys of oral sex with the opposite sex, they were not surprised to
find that the taste of cock was not that unpleasant, nor the actual act of
sucking cock. Being forced to suck two horny teenagers, in front of each
other and in front of the boys' brothers, was a much different matter
however. The two men closed their eyes and concentrated on what they were
doing, trying to block out the humiliation. While the two men sucked their
teenage doctors, the two younger doctors chucked their pants and underwear
and stroked themselves as they watched.
Bobby stepped over and began to stroke Leonard's limp dick while he
stroked his own, and Benny followed his example and began to stroke David's
cock. Brent and Brett's breathing grew heavier and irregular, and they
were feeling too hot to consider delaying what was about to happen.
Besides, it was a bit awkward kneeling up there on the tiny examination
table. Warning their two patients, the two boys shot off together, and the
two patients had no choice other than to swallow the medicine they were
being given. It being only the boys' second ejaculation for the day,
having jacked off when they'd woken up, they had two full teaspoons of
medicine for each of their patients, and with their mouths already full of
stiff cock, the excess flowed out of their mouths and around their chins.
As soon as the two hot teens had finished empting their nuts, they
slipped off the examination table and Benny and Bobby climbed up and took
their turn. As the men's mouths filled with saliva, they swallowed the
teenage cum that clung to their teeth and the inside of their mouth while
they blew the second pair of boys. Desperate to relieve the pressure in
their rectums, the two doctors worked their lips up and down over the
exposed knobs of the two boy dicks in their mouths as rapidly as they
could, knowing that assaulting the rim of their sensitive knobs would be
the fastest way of bringing the boys off. Of course Bobby and Benny both
knew that, and were both so eager to get one off they did not object. Soon
Benny was feeding David his second load of fresh cum, and Bobby was
trembling and gasping with his dry orgasm.
Lowering the two men, they removed the enema hoses as promised and
placed plastic pails on the floor beneath them. As the men emptied their
bowels with a sigh of relief, the four boys giggled at the sight and sound
of the contents of their rectums gushing out of their bodies and into the
pails.
"Hey. When we looked up their butts, how come we didn't see their,
you know, that thing that makes you go all hairy when you touch it?" Bobby
asked.
"Their prostrates," said Benny.
"Yeah right."
The two doctors made no attempt to correct him.
"I don't think you can really see them, just feel them."
"Yeah?" said Bobby with a grin.
Tying the two patients' legs to the coat hook so they were laying on
their shoulders with their butts raised in the air again, the four boys
gathered around as Benny and Bobby slipped on rubber gloves. Easing their
middle fingers up the men's rectums, Bobby and Benny decided to have a race
to see who could get their patient erect the fastest. The two young boys
pressed their lips together as they concentrated on massaging the men's
prostates. Having both inherited their father's good looks and their
mother's fine features, and being only two years apart, the two boys could
have passed as twins were it not for their differences in height and
weight, and age of course. Bobby's tongue pushed out between his tightly
pressed lips and his hazel eyes gleamed as he watched his patient's dick
slowly begin to swell, and Benny concentrated likewise as he massaged his
patient's prostate. The two men became erect so close to each other they
decided to declare a tie. It also gave them a good reason to try it a
second time.
Taking the remaining four cans, which were still reasonably cold, they
pressed them against the men's genitals to get them limp once again, and
this time Brett and Brent had a try. Sliding their gloved fingers in and
out of the men's assholes, they grinned across at each other as their two
patients began to get stiff again. Looking up at the blue-eyed,
long-haired boys, the two doctors could not believe what was being done to
them as their cocks slowly became erect once again.
"Hey, you know why doctors wear these masks?" asked Bobby as he found
one in the box on the trolley and put it on.
"Why?"
"So when they make a mistake the patient won't know who they are,"
responded and the four boys giggled.
"You thinking the same thing I'm thinking?" asked Brent as he and his
brother pulled their fingers out of their patients and pulled off their
rubber gloves.
"I sure the fuck am," replied Brett with a grin as he reached down and
pulled down his fly.
Lowering the men's butts but keeping their ankles tied to the coat
hook, the two teenagers stepped behind their two patients, their own cocks
stiff and ready for action. After the enema and having their buttholes
finger fucked by the four boys, the two doctors did not need any
lubrication to accept the two teenage cocks. Grasping their patients'
hips, the two blond boys began to pump their hips to and fro in unison, and
as they humped they grinned over at each other. It being their third time
that morning, having wacked off as soon as they'd gotten up, and having
been sucked by their two patients, it took the boys a bit longer to reach
their orgasms, which they did not mind at all. Their long, blond hair
swayed as they worked their hips to and fro faster and faster, and as they
gasped and grunted with exertion, their young bodies began to perspire.
Finally grasping the hips of their patients, the two hot teenagers thrust
their hard cocks up the men's asses and gasped as they felt their hot, teen
loads rise up their cocks and shoot up the rectums of the two men.
Bobby and Benny took their turns next, and as the two boys penetrated
the two men and began to fuck them, Brent and Brett opened up the remaining
cans of pop and bags of chips and relaxed as they watched their kid
brothers. The two doctors lay there on their backs, their assholes feeling
wide and wet, and stared at the thirteen-year-old and eleven-year-old boys
fucking them. This was a day they would never forget. It was not long
before the two boys were quivering with their orgasms.
"You know, I think its time we got their nuts off," observed Brent as
his two brothers pulled their cocks out of the two men and stepped back.
"Let's tie them back up first," suggested Brett.
Raising their butts into the air once more, the four boys surrounded
their patients. While Brett began to jerk Doctor Garret's stiff cock,
Brent caressed the man's swollen balls and his abused asshole and their two
younger brothers did the same to Doctor Rossland, Bobby jerking his cock
while Benny caressed his nuts and butthole. After everything the two men
had been through, it was not long before their nuts contracted and they
shot out their seed. What with having been aroused for the past hour, they
came quickly and copiously. Their thick cum struck their foreheads and
oozed down their temples, and as they gasped with pleasure a rope of cum
shot into their gaping mouths and another laced their chins. As the force
subsided, the boys squeezed the men's throbbing bones, milking out the
remaining cum which oozed out of their slits and dropped in a puddle on
their recently shaved chests.
"That was fucking fun," observed Benny.
"Oh yeah," agreed his brothers.
"Holy fuck, look at the time," Brent suddenly said as he stared up at
the wall.
"Shit! Mom's gotta be finished by now!"
"Bet Dad's been looking all the fuck over for us!"
"Oh maaaaan!"
"We better go," said Benny as he pulled on his Calvin Klein briefs and
jumped back into has cargo pants. Bobby quickly put his Stanfield's and
cargo pants on also as the twins rolled the table far enough away from the
door so they could squeeze out.
"Hey guys, thanks for playing doctor with us," Bobby said as they
headed for the door.
"Oh yeah," agreed his three brothers.
"Hey, untie us!" the two men called desperately.
"Wow! They can talk!"
"And hear us!"
"Fuck, are we great doctors or what?"
The four boys giggled as they high-fived. Untying Doctor Rossland's
one hand, the boys left the rest to the two men to ensure they had enough
time to get away and the four boys dashed up the hall. They arrived back
at the maternity ward just in time to be met by their father who announced
that mother and babies had been all checked out and were healthy, and they
were allowed a minute to see them and their mother.
"Oh fu-, fu-. fucrying out loud they're small," sputtered Bobby as the
four boys crowded around their mother.
"Not that small," observed Brenda Brewster, who only half an hour ago
was sure their heads were the size of basketballs.
"Five pounds and two ounces each," announced Barry proudly. "That's
not so little."
"They're so cute!" observed Brent.
"Look at their tiny little fingers," said Brett, pushing in beside his
twin brother.
"Hi there little Blaine," called out Benny, "hi little Blakey. Have
you thought of a name of our little sister yet?"
"Your father and I have decided on Belinda."
"Hi Belinda!" the four boys chorused.
"Hi everyone," chimed in Bobby, practically sticking his face in
theirs.
The boys cooed and fussed over the three little babies who lay there
and looked up at their four older brothers. All three had their mother's
deep blue eyes. The two boys had their father's dark hair. Belinda's hair
was so fine and blond it was like corn silk.
"All right boys, your mother is going to have to rest now."
"Kay, bye Mom," the boys chorused as they headed for the door. "Love
ya," they called as they stepped back in the hallway.
"Oh, by the way," said Bobby, sticking his head back in the room.
"Just in case a guy comes by with apple juice, ask for orange."
"I think little Blaine likes me," observed Benny as they headed down
the hall ahead of their father. "Did you see the way he smiled at me when I
said his name?"
"He was smiling cuz Bobby had his hand in his blanket."
"Huh?" Benny asked, looking at his kid brother.
"Com'on Bobby, Brent and me seen ya," observed Brett.
"Well I was just checking to see how big it was compared to little
Blakey's," the eleven- year-old observed. "Anyway, I hadn't found it yet
when Benny said his name."
"That was why he began to squirm right after."
"Right."
"So how did they compare?"
"They both felt the same," the eleven-year-old beamed. "And they were
both hard as rocks."
"True Brewsters!" said the four boys together.
The storm was letting up but it was going to be hours before the roads
were cleared. Barry and his boys were offered a ride back to their home on
the snowmobiles.
"Can we stop for something to eat?"
"Yeah, I'm starving," said Brent, and his brothers all announced
likewise. The men had been working hard during the storm, and now that the
emergency was over, were beginning to feel hungry themselves.
"What will it be, KFC or Pizza Hut?" one of the men asked.
"Both," responded Brent and Brett.
"Both?"
"Yeah, we worked up a fu-, fu-, full appetite helping Mom to have her
babies," said Bobby.
"A full appetite?"
"Yeah. Like compared to just a bit of an appetite, you know?"
responded Bobby.
"Well, there's a KFC near here," announced one of the men,
interrupting the conversation much to Bobby's relief.
"I was worried you boys would be getting bored sitting there in the
waiting room all that time," Barry observed as they headed for the
snowmobiles.
"Ah, it was nothing," observed Brent.
"Yeah, time just flew by," agreed Benny.
"Didn't even notice it," added Brett.
"Not at all," agreed Bobby.
Barry smiled as his boys climbed up onto the snowmobiles, Bobby and
Benny snuggling in in front of the drivers, and Brent and Brett snuggling
up behind them and wrapping their arms about them. They were great little
troopers, and were going to be wonderful role models for Blaine, Blake and
Belinda.
PART THREE (CONCLUSION): MAKING FRIENDS AT THE YMCA
"So, Dad, what did the hospital say?" asked Brent as he and his three
brothers looked up at their father apprehensively.
"You mom and the babies can come home," he said with a smile, and the
boys cheered.
"So, does that mean we're not gonna go to the big YMCA opening
ceremonies?" Brent asked disappointedly.
"Of course not," Barry said. "Your mother would never think of
missing something like that, and being able to show off the three new
additions to our family." The boys all grinned. "She won't be able to
stay too long though. I might have to leave you there for a while on your
own while I bring her home."
"That's okay, Dad," said Brent.
"Oh yeah," agreed Brett.
"Sure, we'll find something to do."
"Fu-, fu-, fu-sure," said Bobby, and his three brothers giggled.
The decision to open a YMCA in town had been headline news last fall,
and as work on the building had progressed, youth and adults alike had
become more and more excited about it. With the announcement the grand
opening would be on Presidents Day, February 19, the boys had been waiting
for that date with just as much anticipation as they'd been waiting for the
birth of their twin brothers. The sudden blizzard on Saturday had everyone
worried that all the plans would be ruined, but the town had worked around
the clock to get the roads cleared and that Monday morning the skies were
clear and the sun was shining brightly.
As the Brewster station wagon pulled into the parking lot that
afternoon and the Brewster clan got out, the four boys looked up at the new
three story edifice in awe.
"Very impressive architecture, isn't it," observed Barry, noticing the
look of wonder on the boys' faces.
"Huh?" responded his sons in a daze.
"I said very impressive architecture."
"Oh. Yeah."
"It's even more impressive that everyone pulled together to get a
local chapter in town," he observed, knowing from many years of volunteer
work along with his wife that getting people to agree on anything was a
major undertaking, and especially if there was money involved.
"Oh. Yeah," repeated the four boys as they continued to stare at the
building.
Glancing at his boys and shaking his head, Barry herded them inside.
Sometimes he was so proud of them, and other times he didn't understand
them at all. What he did not know was that it was not the architecture,
nor the community spirit, that had held the boys in awe. It was having
three acres of wooded land and meadows and a three-story building filled
with men and boys from all over the city that had left them speechless. It
was like inviting four wolves to a sheep shearing competition, four very
horny, ravenous wolves.
The welcoming ceremonies were being held in the main gym, which also
had a stage at one end for performances. In keeping with the health and
fitness promotion of the club, juice and healthy snack food was being
served by the local cubs from the kitchenette attached to the far end of
the gym. Being among the first there, the Brewsters pitched in to help set
things up.
"This place is fucking awesome isn't it?" asked eight-year-old Chucky
Elwood, mimicking Bobby, his favourite hero of the four brothers.
"Oh yeah," agreed the four boys. "This place is going to be sooo
great." The four looked about dreamily as their minds all turned to the
same thing and a bulge began to develop in their pants. As Brett's smile
slowly widened, his three brothers knew that he was having another one of
his sudden flashes of genius, and they could not wait to find out what it
was. He motioned for his brothers and Charles to come closer, and the five
of them huddled.
"Fuckin awesome!" said Bobby.
"Fuck yeah," agreed Charles.
"You are a genius, brother," observed Brent.
"Totally," agreed Benny.
Brett had come up with another brilliant Brewster plot. The boys were
so impressed they didn't even start the usual kidding and playful banter
that normally accompanied such an occasion. While Benny took the jar of
LTC out of one of the pockets in his cargo pants, Bobby took out one of the
several pair of surgical gloves he'd pocketed, figuring they'd come in
handy sometime, and put it on. Running his index finger lightly across the
surface of the cream, he began swiping the plastic glasses with two streaks
from the top to almost the bottom on opposite sides. Passing them on to
Chucky, the eight-year-old carefully held the glasses by the bottom so as
not to get any cream on his fingers and filled them full of juice.
Meanwhile Brett and Brent were crushing the diuretic pills they'd pocketed
back in the examination room, having recognized the label from a bottle
their grandfather had and like Bobby having figured they could make use of
them sometime. Benny sprinkled the pulverized pills in the glasses of
juice, and lined the doctored drinks up in the back. The boys decided to
leave it up to Chucky as to which men and boys he would hand the special
refreshments.
The plan was simple but ingenious, typical of Brett's mind. When the
person was handed the glass, he would get the LTC on his fingers, but being
clear and not greasy, he wouldn't notice. Then when the powerful diuretic
took effect, he would inadvertently smear the cream on his dick when he
took it out, and when he squeezed and shook it to dislodge any remaining
droplets of piss. That, of course, would give him a boner, which would be
hilarious. If he got horny enough, he'd even slip away to jerk off, which
would be even funnier, and if he still had any of the cream left on his
fingers, all he'd do is transfer more cream to his cock and keep it stiffer
all the longer. That would really be wicked!
One of the first victims Charles picked was Mayor Anthony Maartens,
who had arrived early and who just half an hour later was at the urinals
relieving his bladder. On one side of him was Reverend Bentley and on the
other, Father O'Rilley, two other victims. Half of the highschool band had
been in the washroom just before them, their bandmaster, Albert Strasser,
having given them a break to answer nature's call, something he would not
normally do but having found it impossible to hold it back any longer
himself.
As he stood there now before the band, he felt another need quickly
growing in intensity just as the need to empty his bladder had grown. It
came on suddenly, and it came on powerfully. Unable to put down his hands,
he hoped that the rapidly growing bulge in his tight white slacks was not
noticeable. One look at his first violinist told him it was. The girl was
totally flustered and clearly embarrassed, and there could only be one
reason. Albert Strasser began to blush, and once he started, he could not
stop.
The third violinist had noticed his band teacher's condition also,
which was confirmed as the man began to turn red. The seventeen-year-old
felt sorry for him having to stand there in front of his class in that
condition and being unable to hide it. The fifty-year-old teacher had to
be frantic with worry that someone might notice. He knew how embarrassing
it was, because he had the same problem. Relieved that he was sitting
down, the horny boy tried to will the problem away, which not only was
unsuccessful, but resulted in him making several blunders in following his
music.
Unbeknownst to him, half of the guys in the band were having the same
problem as he was. At the end of the piece, their conductor dropped his
hands before his crotch as he turned and bowed to the applause, wishing he
could at least adust the position of his glaring erection. So did half the
boys when he turned and motioned for the band to stand and be recognized,
keeping one hand in front of his crotch of course. Those in the second and
third rows were pretty confident that their conditions could not be seen,
but even so, the fact that everyone was sitting there with their eyes on
them was embarrassing. As for the front row, every one of the boys held
their instruments in front of their swollen ones.
By this time the dignitaries and special presenters were gathering to
move up onto the stage, and a number of them were having the same
difficulty. The Master of Ceremonies for the afternoon was Lance Cross, a
twenty-eight-year-old athlete and youth worker recently hired to manage the
facility, and who had only recently moved to the city from Florida to
accept the job. He had already slipped to his office four times to try to
get rid of his embarrassing problem. He had tried everything, from
thinking about his mother and father who had come for the opening ceremony,
which just made him feel even more embarrassed, to reaching inside his
underwear and pinching his swollen dick, which just seemed to make it all
the stiffer. He'd even tried drinking half a dozen glasses of juice in the
hopes that he could piss it away, and that did have an effect on his
bladder, in fact far greater than he'd expected. However, as any man who
has had to piss while stiff knows, it is not that easy. All the extra
juice did was make his sides ache, and when he finally did manage to piss,
his pee slit burned painfully, but his cock stayed erect. In fact, each
time he took a piss it seemed to get that much harder. By the time he had
to head up onto the stage, it felt like he had a lead pipe in his pants,
and he was sure it looked like it too.
Introducing himself and expressing how glad he was to have moved there
and to be the very first manager of such a wonderful facility, he called
upon the mayor for his opening words and quickly took his seat. He hoped
that concentrating on the ceremony would get rid of his stiff, but it was
the hardest erection he'd ever had in his life and he had his doubts.
Despite his embarrassing condition, Anthony Maartens was a politician,
and he was not going to miss this opportunity to let the citizens of the
community know that the city council, under his leadership of course,
believed in the youth of the city, and the opening of this facility was
proof that it, and he of course, was doing everything possible to ensure
that there were clean, wholesome activities for their young people, young
people who he hoped would realize the great benefits of where they were
living, and who would choose to continue living there too, and of course
when it came time to vote, to remember who it was that had pushed for the
creation of this local branch of the YMCA.
"Hey, Danny," sixteen-year-old James Forsythe whispered to his best
buddy, "I didn't know your dad was so well hung!"
"Runs in the family," Danny Maartens replied with a leer.
The handsome sixteen-year-old stud, who thought he was God's gift to
women and a model for mothers to encourage their sons to emulate, wondered
if his dad was thinking about the celebration he was likely going to have
with his mistress later. This was a major accomplishment in his political
career, and one he'd want to celebrate with someone special, and Danny knew
that was not his mother. He also knew the bulge in his father's trousers
was no indication of his normal size, having seen him in the public showers
at the downtown pool. That his dad had a mistress, and had a boner up
there on the stage in front of everyone, did not bother the good- looking,
blond teenager. Actually, he was quite proud of it. The Maartens men
could not help it if they were studs.
Not everyone felt that way. Elsewhere in the auditorium, the mayor's
thirteen-year-old son shifted uncomfortably and glanced at those sitting
nearest him without trying to be obvious. He could not possibly be the
only one that could see his ol'man had a wood. Right there in front of the
whole fucking town! He was probably thinking about his mistress. Eric
found his father's relationship with another woman totally embarrassing and
an insult to his mother, and to himself. Eric tried to concentrate on his
father's long-winded speech, but all he could think about was how his dad's
crotch was bulging out obscenely. He could only imagine how his mother was
feeling. Eric was not the only one who was imagining that.
The next person to speak was a representative from the state
association, a pear-shaped, white-haired man in his sixties. From his
awkward, stiff-legged approach to the lectern, every man and boy who had
ever sprung a wood unexpectedly suspected his problem. Curious if the size
of his stiff cock would be comparable to his protruding stomach, Charles
had singled him out as one of those to receive the special glasses of
juice, and had watched him so he could slip into the washroom to check him
out. Next to the Brewster boys, nothing turned him on more than the
thought of a naked fat old guy.
"Mister Master of Ceremonies, your Worship, honored guests, ladies and
gentlemen, boys and girls. I am honored to have been asked to join you
this afternoon in the opening of this magnificent building," he began, and
as several young cubs leaned forward and stared up at him there on the
stage, he had the sinking feeling that their attention had nothing to do
with his speech. "The Young Men's Christian Association is an
international community service organization fostering constructive social,
physical, and educational activities for youths and adults of both sexes.
The first YMCA was founded in London in1844 by the British humanitarian
George Williams in an attempt to combat idleness among young workers and
the temptations of unhealthy social conditions arising in large cities at
the end of the Industrial Revolution by means of Bible studies and prayer
meetings."
The mention of Bible studies and prayer meetings reminded the Brewster
brothers of the Evangelical summer camp they had attended the previous
summer, and in particular, Reverend Pickett. As they thought of the great
fun that they'd had with the camp counselors and some of the priggish
campers, the boys dropped their hands to their laps and pressed their
fingers against their swelling dicks.
"The centralization of commerce and industry brought many young men
from rural areas to work in the cities. Far from home and family, after
work these youths were often drawn into gambling houses and other
disreputable establishments," the speaker continued, shifting uncomfortably
as his erect penis pressed against the inside flap of his fly.
"The first American association was established in 1851 in Boston by a
Baptist sea captain T.V. Sullivan. Today, the World Alliance of YMCAs,
headquartered in Geneva, Switzerland, has thirty million members in a
hundred and ten countries. In the United States, the YMCA serves fourteen
million people a year."
As he continued his speech, a number of boys and men in the audience
shifted uncomfortably, not just because they were bored, but because they
had sprung bones that were aching for their undivided attention. One of
them was nineteen-year-old Bryan Ryerson, whose eight-and-a-half inches was
legend and whom Charles had been especially keen on getting hard,
especially after Bobby had told him about seeing the boys huge sausage
during the Bastille Day celebrations. Another was Matt Collins, the
six-foot-four high school football player who had seven inches and was
thick as a sausage, and who had sprayed Harry Matsu and Eric Maartens on
Boxing Day while watching the girls jerking themselves on the hidden cam
the Brewster brothers had set up.
The next person to speak was the newly elected Chairman of the Board,
Charlie Winsloe, who was also President of the American Legion. Under the
influence of the Viagra-laced beer he had consumed on Veteran's day, the
portly veteran had plowed the asses of both young Charles and
eighteen-year-old Cole Bentley, the evangelical minister's cock-hungry son
and early foil of the Brewster brothers. In the hopes that he might get
bumfucked again, Chucky had made sure Charlie Winsloe had several glasses
of the once again doctored drink. So, he had not only transferred the LTC
to his cock once, but three times. Now as he introduced the fine,
upstanding Members of the Board, Chucky giggled at the phrase and squeezed
his own upstanding member, and he didn't have any LTC on it.
Charlie Winsloe self-consciously held his hands before his crotch as
he also introduced the CEO's, chairmen, and presidents of several agencies
and businesses who were financial backers. Some also had sprung erections
and were glad they didn't have to go up on the stage, and others, like
Martha Richards, could not help but notice the condition of many of men and
was incensed by their rudeness. The matronly grandmother who had taken it
upon herself to watch over the morals of the youth of the town many years
ago, had only recently recovered from the sight of her eighty-year-old
father fucking a cute eight-year-old bear cub during Veteran's Day.
As a break from the speeches, the M. C. called upon Cam Souyong to
provide them a solo on his trumpet. Despite attempts by Chucky to get the
young, hot looking Thai to drink some juice, he had refused. Now as the
good-looking teenager stood on the stage in his band uniform and performed
his piece, he caused more than just a few of his gay classmates to spring
boners, besides a number of the gay adults in the community.
Father O'Rilley spoke next. "The YMCA serves people of all ages,
incomes, abilities, races, and religions," he began, and Bobby whispered to
his brothers that so did they, causing his brothers to begin to giggle.
"The YMCA adheres to Christian principles, but imposes no religious
qualifications on its members." Brent whispered that they didn't impose
any religious qualifications on their members either, causing the boys to
giggle even more. "It focuses on the spiritual, intellectual, physical,
and social welfare of men and boys throughout the world. Bound by a common
mission, each branch functions independently, responding to the needs of
its community." A number of young cubs thought back to Veteran's Day and
the needs the good Father had served with them, and having noticed his
evident condition, wondered if he'd like to have a repeat performance.
"The current focus in America is on strengthening families, increasing
international understanding, promoting good health, and combating the wave
of youth violence sweeping this country. Long-standing programs in youth
work such as teen clubs and other youth-based programs which provide
leadership-development activities for high school youth provide a YMCA
alternative to drugs and antisocial behavior." As he sat back down, the
Brewster brothers were all for providing an alternative to drugs and
antisocial behavior, and they were more than willing to take a leadership
role.
"Speaking of family values," the M. C. said as he got up again, his
dick still straining uncomfortably in his pants, "many of you are aware of
the heroic accomplishment and aversion of what could have been a major
tragedy for one of our most active and well-known families, a family that
has been a strong supporter and promoter of youth and this community." The
Brewster boys yawned and fidgeted and wished they'd get all the speeches
over with so they could get on with the fun stuff. "I'm speaking of course
of the actions of four fine, upstanding boys who brought into this world,
not just one, not just two, but three little babies when their mother was
stranded at home in the blizzard this weekend." The boys glanced at each
other, their eyes growing wide. "I'd like to call the Brewster brothers up
to the stage to receive a special medallion of merit from the Emergency
Medical Services."
The four boys beamed as they walked up to the stage amidst the
applause as the local television crew and newspapers took their picture
along with the EMT who had guided them over the phone and who presented
their medals. As the boys were congratulated by the good-looking, muscular
fireman, each thought of a way they could show their appreciation to him
for his help, and they would have even done it on a stage in front of the
crowd. The medallion that was hung around each of their necks had the
symbol for the EMS on the front, and on the back the boy's name and
date. Each of the boys decided that some speeches were quite all right.
"The promotion of physical fitness was one goal that those who
designed this facility kept in mind," observed the M. C. as the boys took
their seat. "This building is equipped with a swimming pool, hot tub,
aerobics and exercise rooms including a weight lifting room, indoor and
outdoor basketball and tennis courts, a squash court, two handball courts,
and a climbing wall." The mention of a climbing wall brought memories,
fond and otherwise, of the climbing wall that had been brought in to raise
funds on Bastille Day for the needy. "Attached to the building is a
skating arena for hockey and figure skating, and on the grounds is a track,
sand pits, cycle path, and skateboarding park. Two gentlemen who have been
instrumental in advising the planners on the sports facilities, and who
will be volunteering their time, are Jack Vardy and Mike Harris," he
introduced, calling on the two coaches to stand. A number of the boys
remembered the orgy they'd had with their junior high physical education
teacher a couple years ago during a crazy Valentine's Day that had
drastically altered the lives of a number of them.
"As you've noticed, we have a fully equipped stage, and I'm sure in
the future you will see many fine performances performed up here. In
designing this facility, the fine arts have not been forgotten. And now,
to commemorate this significant day, we have two very talented drama
students from the high school. Please join me in welcoming Keith Johnson
and Lance Erikssen, in "A Vision for America." The dignitaries left the
stage and the lights were dimmed as the two boys, who'd been hoping
desperately but futilely that their raging erections would go down before
they had to perform, took their positions on the stage. The spotlight
shone first on Keith Johnson, wearing the blue and buff uniform of the
Continental Army and a powdered white wig, who began by reading a journal
entry by George Washington on his thoughts regarding the upcoming battle
with Britain. The spotlight then switched to Lance Erikssen, a tall lanky
student in a fake beard and woodsman's clothes, who read an excerpt from
Abraham Lincoln's autobiography about the growing conflict between the
south and north. The two switched back and forth, ending with Washington's
Farewell Address and Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. The Brewster boys did
not pay much attention to what was being said, their focus being on the
boys' bulging crotches and their minds imagining what it might have been
like to make it with two of the nation's greatest presidents, and how they
might make it with the two actors that day. The two actors, standing there
before their parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents, all who had all come
to watch them perform, did remarkably well considering their condition and
embarrassment.
The M. C. finally introduced their guest speaker, a senator from the
state, by which time a number of those who'd been shifting uncomfortably
with raging erections were relieved to find them finally subsiding, but
they soon began to fidget anew as they felt the need to empty their
bladders again.
"We are living in a time of great achievements, greater achievements
than have been obtained by any other country in the history of the world,
but we are also, in spite of many claims to the contrary, living in a time
where lawlessness and anarchy have never been so prevalent," the speaker
began. "We are constantly being assured by the experts that everything's
all right, but a week does not go by without reading of a drive-by killing,
or of an irrate driver killing another in road rage, or of one of our
children killing another. The truth of the matter is that we have seen
over the course of the last decade an explosion of crime and violence in
American society. This is partly due, we are told, to demographics and
other things that we have no control over. It is, however, also partly, we
all suspect, due to the breakdown of the basic institutions of moral
formation in our society.
In response to this, one hears, of course, increasingly about the need
for police and the need for more severe penalties in the courts. But I
think we have reached the point where we have to realize that what we are
actually dealing with is the consequence of a breakdown of that internal
regime of self-discipline and self-control which is the best preventative
for crime in the first place; known variously as "character" or "moral
discipline." It is the purpose of the YMCA to develop that character, that
moral discipline, in young boys, and to foster and maintain it throughout
their lives. And, what better day could we have to inaugurate the opening
of this great facility, than the day we have set aside to honor two men who
stand out not just for their leadership in combating the social ills of
their time, but for their own moral rectitude. . . ."
The applause half an hour later interrupted the daydreams of the four
Brewster brothers, and probably a number of others, and brought them back
to reality.
"So what shall we do first?" asked Benny as they got to their feet.
"Let's check out the swimming pool," suggested Bobby.
"But we didn't bring our suits."
"So, who the fuck wants to go swimming? We can just go have a
shower," observed Bobby, "and check out all the new guys."
"Oh yeah!" his three brothers all agreed.
"Let's check out the basketball courts first," suggested Brent, the
twins having brought their gym strip as had been suggested in the flyer
promoting the day.
"Yeah, we can get all sweaty, and then have a shower," agreed Brett.
"I can think of other ways more fun to get sweaty," observed Bobby.
"Oh yeah," the three brothers chimed.
"I think I'll join the chess club," announced Benny.
"But you don't know fuck about chess," Brett observed.
"No. But I bet he does."
The boys looked over in the direction Benny was looking. The boy
registering was hot looking, dark haired and well dressed with sexy, tinted
glasses.
"So where the fuck we gonna go first guys?" Bobby asked.
"The climbing wall," said Brent, thinking of the way a guy's tight
jeans stretched even more, showing off his butt and basket, as he spread
his legs to reach the next bracket on the wall.
"The weight room," Benny said at the same time, imagining the sight of
a guy spread out on his back, legs spread, a hundred-pound weight held high
in the air, legs spread. . . .
"Back stage," said Brett, thinking of congratulating Keith and Lance
and offering to do something with the boners they evidently had.
The boys looked at each other helplessly. There were so many
opportunities it was impossible to decide.
"Let's check out the ice rink," suggested Bobby.
"I've never made out with a hockey player," observed Benny, and his
three brothers stared off dreamily.
Intrigued by the possibility of a totally new experience, and checking
out a group of guys they'd never checked out before, the four trooped off
to the ice arena. Most of the local hockey team had come prepared to check
out the new rink of course, and the boys spent a delightful half hour
checking out the new prospects.
As they watched, a boy skated out into the arena that stood out from
everyone else. For one, he was wearing a royal blue silk shirt, with
frilly sleeves and open in the front to reveal a smooth, thin chest, a
silver sash about his narrow waist, and black tights that showed off his
compact butt and an above average size cup. For another, he was sporting a
Mohawk cut, jet black with silver tips, earrings, a ring in his lower lip,
and nipple rings.
"Hey, is that who I think it is?" asked Benny.
There were several derisive comments about the fairy purposefully made
loud enough for him to hear, and several snickers and other whispered
comments, especially among the hockey players. He ignored them and began
to circle the rink, performing spins and skating backward, going through
his routine, and then skating faster and faster, he performed the first of
several double axils. Feel as they did, the other skaters on the ice could
not deny the strength and skill of the boy. The fifteen-year-old was small
and thin for his age, standing at five-foot-two and weighing just over a
hundred pounds, but he had thick, muscular thighs and calves. Spotting the
Brewster brothers in the stands, he skated over to them.
"Hey, Billy! Awesome skating," Brent complemented.
"I didn't know you were a figure skater," observed Brett.
"Hot outfit," added Benny.
"Oh yeah, especially the nipple rings," commented Bobby, admiring the
two thin rings and wondering what it would be like to have his nipples
pierced.
"Hey, those things in the bridge of your nose are new, aren't they?"
asked Brent, referring to the three silver beads on each side of his nose.
"Yeah," Billy replied. "They're called barbells. Got them on
Saturday."
"Hot," said Brent, and his three brothers agreed.
Billy Hollis had never been one to be accused of being conservative
for as long as the twins had known him, which was most of their lives,
Billy being one of their closest friends. He was the first to totally
shave his head, and last summer he had spiked and dyed his hair bright
orange. While others wore designer jeans or the latest name brand clothes,
Billy would come to school one day with leather pants, and the next with
faded Levi's that had gone out of style five years ago.
"How long you been figure skating?"
"All my life," he replied.
"Shit, I didn't know that," Brent observed.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," he responded,
looking directly at Brent with a strange expression on his face.
"Nor do your parents," observed Brett.
"That's true," Billy said with a wide grin. "Hey, I'm going to
practice for a while, but if you're sticking around, maybe we can hang
together later."
"Sure," the twins agreed.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but my nuts are getting cold,"
Bobby observed.
"Mine too," said Benny. "Time to go check out someplace warmer."
"You guys go ahead," said Brent, his eyes on Billy as he performed a
flip. "I'll catch up to you later."
Heading back into the main building, the boys wandered aimlessly,
uncertain where to go next. Brett was the first to spot Cam Souyong.
"Hey, there's Cam. Hey, Cam!" he called.
The young Thai boy smiled as he approached the boys, causing a quiver
of arousal in the pants of all three.
"Liked the piece you played this afternoon," observed Brett. "You did
really a great job."
"Yeah," his brothers agreed.
"Thanks."
"This is quite the place, eh?"
"Oh yeah! You know they even have individual music rooms up on the
third floor, and a recording room?"
"A recording room?"
"Oh yeah. The best sound equipment besides. You can tape yourself
and play it back to see your errors, just like a professional recording
studio. And the acoustics are fucking awesome."
"Yeah? That's cool."
"It really is," Cam said excitedly.
"I'd like to see it sometime," Brett commented.
"Really?"
"Sure."
"I can show ya now," Cam offered, making it an open invitation but
looking directly at Brett. "Unless you guys got something else planned."
"No, not at all," replied Brett.
"Actually Bobby and I do," said Benny.
"We do?" replied Bobby, having been thinking of a duet he'd like to
perform with the hot Thai teenager. "Oh, yeah, we do. I forgot," he said,
catching Benny's eye.
"Comes from too much wanking," he said with a wide grin, hoping to give
Brett a lead in.
"Okay, I'll catch you guys later," Brett said, giving his two brothers
an appreciative smile.
"So what we going to do?" asked Bobby as Brett and Cam headed up to
the third floor.
"Wanna go check out if anyone's using the courts?"
"Do I wanna go watch some hot, sweaty guys in tank tops and shorts?"
asked Bobby with a grin.
"Okay, dumb question."
Heading up to the second floor where they had balconies overlooking
the courts, they ran into Justin Fording, and together the three boys
looked in over the squash and badminton courts. All three had the same
thoughts and all three felt a stirring in their pants.
"You guys bring your runners?" Justin asked.
"Yeah," replied Benny. "We all brought our gym strip."
"So did I," said Justin.
"Wanna go have a game of handball?" Benny asked, seeing the couple in
the room leaving.
"Sure," agreed Justin, who began to blush as he realized how eagerly
he'd responded.
"You guys go ahead," said Bobby. "I think I'll go check out the
pool."
As the two brothers parted ways, Benny gave Bobby a wink of
appreciation and Bobby gave him the thumbs up sign and a leer. He'd love
to get hot and sweaty with Justin Fording, but he knew Benny would love to
be alone with him. Heading back downstairs to the pool, he ran into his
best buddy, Aaron Porter.
"Hey, awesome place, eh?" asked Aaron.
"Oh yeah. Where you been?"
"Checking the place. And signing up for some of the clubs."
"Yeah? Which clubs?"
"Well, art for one."
"That figures."
"Oh yeah, they got a great art room, with easels and everything."
"Yeah? I'd like to see it."
"Now?"
"Sure."
"Great," responded Aaron with a wide grin. As he headed up to the
third floor with his best friend, he was sure nothing could make this day
better.
Brett was feeling exactly the same way. The moment the new immigrant
from Thailand had stepped into his Visual Communications class he was
determined that they'd have sex some day. Of course his physical
appearance, smooth skin the color of butterscotch, rich brown,
almond-shaped eyes, and short, dark black hair, had given him an instant
boner that first day in class. The sixteen-year-old was a stud muffin. As
he'd gotten to know him over the course of the semester, his desire had
increased. Cam's quiet sense of humor, his sharp mind, and his meek but
confident personality drew the fifteen-year-old American boy to him. They
were both academic students, and quick thinkers, something their teachers
appreciated, but not something that endeared them to their classmates.
Cam had been similarly attracted to the blond fifteen-year-old,
initially by his fine, delicate looks, and later by his maturity and his
confidence. Like Brett, his studiousness had not always been appreciated
by his classmates, and to find someone who was as studious as he was, and
yet who was outgoing and even daring was delightful. Unlike Brett, he had
suspected the boy was gay the moment they had met, and the day they had
both had sex with Jason in Visual Communications had confirmed his
suspicions. Also, unlike the afternoon he'd been blown by Jason, and
unlike his sixty-nine with Wally Bingham on Boxing Day, his desire went
beyond a physical desire. He was in love with the hot blond boy even if
Brett didn't know it yet.
Cam had shown him the recording room, and then one of the small music
rooms. Standing there beside the slender oriental boy in the small room,
inhaling his coconut scented lotion, Brett had imagined a hundred and one
plays on the phrases "blowing his horn" and "fingering his instrument" that
he could use as lead-ins. As it was, he did not have to say a word. Cam
simply turned and looked into his eyes, and Brett saw in them the dreamy
desire that the movies and television portrayed between teenage lovers, and
that he'd always imagined gay teenage lovers would have also. With a
slight smile, Cam had slipped over and latched the door to the soundproof
room that showed anyone on the other side that the room was occupied and
turned to Brett in one fluid motion.
Cam, being older and more experienced, at least at sex between lovers,
took the lead. Slipping his arms about Brett, he drew the slim boy to him
and lowered his head. The two boys closed their eyes as their lips met,
and they felt as if they were floating as they exchanged their first tender
kiss. It was quickly followed by another, and then another, and despite
their rapidly growing desire, their kisses were soft and delicate, marked
by a tender care rather than hot lust. With their arms about each other,
the two boys began to caress each other's back as their lips met still
another time, but this time their lips remained pressed against each other.
When they did part, their eyes stayed closed and they tenderly kissed each
other just above the corner of their lips, and then on the cheeks. Neither
boy had begun to shave, and their cheeks were soft and downy with the
beginnings of adolescent fuzz.
Cam had changed out of his band uniform into a pair of white slacks
and a white sleeveless T-shirt with an outer creamy orange shirt,
unbuttoned and hanging outside his slacks. Brett had chosen a warm roan
red Roots pullover with a zipper neck and a pair of black Gap jeans. As
Cam slipped his hands under Brett's fleece pullover and began to massage
his back, Brett slipped his hands under Cam's T and began to similarly
caress his. As he caressed Brett's body, Cam slowly pushed his pullover
up, finally pushing the back over his head and drawing it off. As they
kissed and embraced, Brett slipped Cam's shirt off, and then similarly drew
off his T. The boys pressed their smooth, hairless chests against each
other and inhaled deeply with arousal and excitement.
Drawing each other's flies down simultaneously, they pushed down each
other's pants. With their trousers about their calves, they kissed more
fervently and ran their hands over each other's compact buttocks. They
slipped off their shoes and stepped out of their pants, removing their
socks at the same time. Standing there only in their underwear, Brett in
his grey ribbed Markey Mark boxer briefs and Cam in his black Tommy
Helfiger briefs, the two teenagers slipped their arms about each other and
began to caress each other's smooth, rounded deltoids as their lips met
once again. Brett slipped his tongue into Cam's mouth, and as he swirled
his tongue around Cam's, he pressed his body against the slim Thai boy. He
could feel Cam's cock swelling in response to his deep kissing, which in
turn caused his own cock to swell all the faster. Slipping his hand in
Brett's underwear, Cam cupped his limp cock, wanting to feel him grow.
Pushing down Cam's briefs, Brett caressed his smooth, compact ass as he
continued to slip his tongue over and under Cam's until the boy was erect.
The two boys gently stroked each other, Brett's white hand caressing
Cam's butterscotch brown cock and Cam's tan hand caressing Brett's creamy
white member. Their smooth, slender bodies, white and butterscotch,
pressed against each other, hands caressing, lips kissing. They sank to the
carpeted floor and Brett kissed Cam's neck and his chest, sliding his lips
over the smooth, hot skin, kissing his right teat and then nibbling on it.
Cam twisted around so he could kiss and lick Brett's nipples at the same
time. Slowly the two boys worked lower, running hungry lips along slender
ribs, over belly buttons and flat stomachs, and finding each other's
swollen member. They inhaled the spicy fragrance of each others teenage
balls and ran lips over each other's throbbing member. Then as one, they
slipped their lips over the knob of each other's cock.
Two floors down, Justin and Benny had just finished a vigorous game of
handball. The two good friends had played hard, each trying his best to
beat the other, so that neither had been more than one or two points ahead.
Their young, agile bodies were flushed from their exertion, and their
clothes were damp with perspiration. The two boys had brought their gym
bags and gym strip to the opening as the advertisement had suggested, both
wearing Nike shorts with the Nike swoosh and white racing stripe, Justin's
green and Benny's red. Justin had chosen a short- sleeved Nike T-shirt
whereas Benny was wearing a sleeveless white T.
"Oh man, that was fun," observed Justin as they stepped out of the
court and headed to the equipment room.
"Sure was," agreed Benny, smiling at his buddy. "Even if you did beat
me."
"That was the fun part," Justin responded, slipping an arm around
Benny's shoulders. At a hundred pounds and just over five feet, he was
five pounds heavier and three inches taller than his buddy.
As Benny similarly slipped his arm around Justin's shoulders, he
inhaled deeply. The scent of Justin's hot, sweaty body filled his lungs
and his smile widened. "Want to have some even greater fun?"
"Sure. What?"
Arriving at the equipment room, they found Matt Collins, the
six-foot-four high school football quarterback who was looking after the
equipment, engrossed in conversation with a couple high school girls.
After his unexpected and unusually extended erection, he was hoping to make
out with one of them, and the two girls, impressed by his size and muscles,
were stroking his ego, which was just as large as he was. Knowing he was
going to be occupied for some time, Benny picked the key to the equipment
room up and the two thirteen-year-olds slipped into the storage room and
locked the door behind them.
"Feeling horny?" Benny whispered.
"Always," replied Justin.
"Let's strip," Benny suggested, and without waiting for a response,
pulled his T off over his head.
Having jerked off with Benny many times in the past, and having
benefitted from Benny's vast store of sexual trivia, Justin didn't find his
suggestion unusual. Usually in the past they had just dropped their pants,
but Benny never was one who was afraid to take risks, and Justin was eager
to see his friend totally nude and close up. He quickly followed suit, and
soon the two thirteen-year-olds were stark naked except for the copper tube
necklace Benny was wearing and the thin silver necklace Justin had gotten
for Christmas.
"Wanna do something even better than jerking?" Benny whispered, moving
close to Justin and whispering in his ear as he took Justin's jock strap
and gave him his.
"Sure," Justin replied, the horny thirteen-year-old starting to get
erect just with the proximity of his best friend. As Benny brought his
jock to his nose and inhaled, Justin quickly copied him. The musky odor of
Benny's balls caused his cock to spring to attention, and he noticed Benny
was almost erect himself. With those long, brown eyelashes and with the
copper tint to his shaved, dark brown hair, he looked so sexy.
"Remember when we caught your brother fucking his girl's ass?"
"Yeah," Justin said with a grin as his heart leaped. Dare he hope
Benny was going to suggest what had become one of his most enjoyable jerk
off fantasies over the past two months?
"Well, turn around and bend over," Benny whispered. "You'll see,
you'll like it," he added in response to the widening of Justin's eyes,
using the line they had heard Justin's brother use over two years ago.
Justin could not believe what he'd just heard. He'd had his first and
only ass fucking two months ago, by his eighteen-year-old brother after the
hot events of Boxing Day, and ever since then his fantasy of doing it with
his best buddy had been constantly on his mind. Why that was he could not
explain. Until Boxing Day he'd enjoyed being with Benny as a best pal, and
had always thought of their jerk off sessions together as just being two
horny guys getting themselves off, but for the past two months he'd found
himself thinking of Benny in ways that buddies do not think of each other.
Now the naked thirteen-year-old found himself turning around and
grasping the frame of the equipment rack as he bent over in eager
anticipation of getting fucked and as Benny worked up several gobs of spit
and drooled his saliva over his now erect cock. Feeling Benny's hard, hot
knob against his anus, he pushed out as his brother had taught him. With
just spit for lubrication and without any foreplay, the two boys had to
strain to unite, but they were young and horny, and although large for his
size, Benny's erection was only four-and-a-half inches, considerably
smaller than Justin's brother's seven inch cock. The two boys grunted and
inhaled deeply as the one pushed out with his abdominal muscles while the
other pressed his hips forward. They were determined, and bit by bit, they
united.
Benny had imagined messing around with a lot of different boys, but
until that moment that they had left the handball court and had put their
arms about each other as they'd done hundreds of times before, he'd never
considered doing anything with Justin. It was not that Justin was not
attractive. With his blue-green eyes, gelled blond hair with dark shades,
thin, dark eyebrows, his smooth, hairless body, and muscles still having a
boyish softness and contours, he was a very attractive boy. Nor did it
have anything to do with his personality. He was actually fun to be with,
and although not as impulsive or daring as Benny, he did have the natural
mischievous of a boy. It was just that they were friends.
Now, as he slowly worked his stiff cock in and out of Justin's hot,
moist hole, sinking it in until his curly hairs were pressing against
Justin's smooth, compact butt, and then drawing it out until the knob was
stretching open his sphincter, he was glad he had decided to add another
dimension to their friendship. Reaching around with his left hand, he
pressed it against Justin's flat stomach while reaching around with his
right and wrapping his fingers about Justin's four-inch bone. In all the
jerk sessions they'd had, they had always done themselves, and although
he'd often been tempted to suggest they try each other, Justin being his
best buddy, he'd always chickened out. Now as he began to wank his best
buddy's throbbing bone, he was surprised that despite all the cocks he'd
jerked off in the past, none of them compared to how hot it was to do his
best pal.
The equipment room was small and the air still, and the bodies of the
two randy boys were still hot from their strenuous exercise. As their
breathing slowly became more laboured, they began to sweat once again. The
air smelled of leather and resin, of basketballs and new equipment, and now
of hot, sweating boys and of sex. Feeling the telltale tightness of
Justin's foreskin, Benny squeezed his fist tightly below his knob and
stoped his stroking. Justin had to be hot to be ready to come so soon,
while this being Benny's fourth time, it was going to take him a while to
climax, and that he did not mind in the least.
Back up on the third floor, Aaron Porter had shown Bobby the art room,
and there being nobody around, the two youngsters had taken out two of the
easels and amused themselves drawing. Bobby was not particularly skilled
in art, but he did like nature and had an eye for detail, so he did a fair
representation of several of his favorites from his insect collection.
Having tired of that, he'd tried drawing a naked girl, and then a picture
of Aaron in the nude.
"Sorry, but I wouldn't have known that was me if you hadn't told me,"
Aaron laughed as he looked at the crude representation.
"Well, you're harder to draw than a Monarch butterfly."
"Actually, I'd like to draw you in the nude someday."
"How about right now?"
"Really?"
"Sure. Go ahead and strip. I don't mind," Bobby said with a twinkle
in his hazel eyes.
After a bit more joking around, the boys had locked the door and
stripped. As Bobby struck a pose similar to that of the muscular young man
in a thong killing a dragon on the front of his black T, Aaron had settled
down and done a serious sketch of his best buddy, his bright green eyes
narrowing and his tongue squeezing between his tightly pressed lips as he
concentrated on his work. Art being Aaron's strength and interest, it did
not take him that long to do a good rendition, which he offered to Bobby as
a gift.
"You mean it?" Bobby asked. "I can have it?"
"Sure."
"Awesome. I'll hang it up on the wall above my desk," he said
mischievously.
"I think your mother might have something to say about that."
"Yeah, not a good idea I guess," Bobby grinned. "Besides, my brothers
would be walking around with boners all night from looking at it." Aaron
giggled. "Since you've given me yours, its only fair I give you my picture
of you," he said, removing his sketch from the easel and handing it to
Aaron.
"Gee, thanks," Aaron responded with a grin, knowing Bobby was joking
around, but at the same time feeling a warmth in his chest as he reached
out and took the sheet of paper. It was a terrible picture, but was going
to be one he'd treasure for a long time, because it was a gift from his
best friend, and because it would forever remind him of this day.
"Well, I know it's not a fair trade," Bobby said with a grin. "Maybe
I'd better give you something else in addition to it."
"You don't have to give me anything."
"Ah, but I want to," responded Bobby as an idea crossed his mind.
"And I know the perfect thing," he announced, deciding he'd better act
before he lost his courage.
"What?"
"A blow job," the eleven-year-old said, dropping to his knees.
Before Aaron even had time to think, Bobby had reached up and taken
his limp cock in his hand. As Aaron opened his mouth, he had no idea how
to respond, and before he could think of something, Bobby had slipped his
mouth over his limp noodle and had begun to suck. The freckle-cheeked
eleven-year-old immediately began to get hard. Although he'd often fiddled
with himself as he'd gone to sleep, it was strictly because it felt good.
It was not until he'd entered grade six that he'd learned what he was doing
had a name, and was considered a sexual act.
After watching one of his classmates finger fucking herself on the cam
that the Brewster brothers had set up on Boxing Day and groping himself
along with Charles Elwood and Jack Young, he'd begun to fantasize while he
fiddled with himself before going to bed. Some of the time he fantasized
about one or the other of his female classmates masturbating, and some of
the time he jerked off while thinking of one or another of his male
classmates naked in the showers. The memory of his best bud standing in
the gym in his soaked briefs with his dick tenting them out on Boxing Day
had become one of Aaron's favorite images as he wanked off at night, and
was what he thought about most of the time.
Now his best bud was naked and sucking on his hard cock. He could not
believe it! He'd always admired Bobby's brashness and daring, but this was
going beyond anything he could have ever imagined. As Bobby worked his
lips up and down Aaron's wood, going all the way down until his lips were
pressed against Aaron's naked pubes, and then drawing up until he had
Aaron's swollen knob between his lips, Bobby began to get erect. He'd
sucked plenty of cock in his young life, but doing it to his best buddy was
the hottest yet, and he reached down and began to wank himself. Noticing
that and wanting to please his best bud, Aaron drew away and told Bobby
he'd like to do him for a while. The experienced youngster suggested they
sixty-nine, and after he explained what that was, Aaron was in full
agreement.
So, the two naked youngsters lay there on the floor of the art room
and went down on each other. This was nothing new to Bobby, but it was
Aaron's first experience, and knowing that, it intensified the Brewster
boy's feelings. The two eleven-year-olds bobbed their heads in unison,
delighting in the pleasure pulsating in their groin just as intensely as
they delighted in bringing the other pleasure.
Meanwhile, as Billy Hollis skated off the ice and headed for the
change room, Brent joined him.
"You're an awesome skater," he said as Billy sat down and began to
unlace his skates.
"Thanks," Billy responded. "Bet you'd make a great skater."
"I've never been interested," Brent said with a shrug, quickly adding,
"not because there's anything wrong with it or nothing. It's a great
sport, just as good as hockey." He turned red as he began to get
flustered. "Better. It's even better than hockey. It takes real skill
and ."
"Hey, that's all right," responded Billy as he put on his shoes. "I
know what people think of figure skaters." He picked up one of his skates
and began to wipe off the blade. "They think it's a sport for girls, and
guys who like to figure skate are wimps or fags because of the dance
routines."
"I don't think that, not at all," said Brent.
"I know," Billy said, smiling at Brent, and Brent felt an ache in the
pit of his stomach. Billy Hollis was one of the few boys he and Brett had
really chummed with, and he was in many ways a lot like them in interests
and personality, except he leaned more to the punk type of interests. For
his fourteenth birthday he'd gotten his ears and nipples pierced, the
latter having been a secret from his parents for the next six months. He
was always clowning around, and often in trouble with his teachers because
he always looked at things differently than they did, and some of them did
not like to be challenged. Quite a few adults had taken a disliking to him
also, because of his appearance and his like for rap music, and some were
even frightened by him. Those who got to know him, like Brent, knew that
he was one of the most sensitive and gentle boys in the school.
"Your bridge barbells really look cool."
"You really think so? You're not just saying that?"
"No. I mean it."
"Thanks."
"My parents would flip if I did something like that."
"Well, my parents aren't all that keen about it," Billy said.
"Actually, my dad hit the ceiling, which is why I did it first and then
told him."
"It's too bad he has to be angry. It is your nose."
"Yeah," Billy said. "I think you should get your ears pierced."
"Really?"
"Yeah. With that long blond hair, a nice, long, crystal earing would
look hot, dark crystal, like black, or clear, like glass."
"Well, maybe some day."
"I'd like to have a Prince Albert."
"You would?"
"Oh yeah."
"So would I," Brent said, surprised not just at the sudden change in
topic, but that Billy would be so open about his sexual fantasy. "But I
think it's Prince Andrew, not Albert."
Billy looked at him blankly for a second, and then laughed.
"No, that's not what I meant," he chortled.
"It isn't?"
"No, a Prince Albert is a type of ring. A ring in your dick."
"Oh," Brent responded, turning bright red and feeling like a total
idiot. Billy continued to laugh, which did not help. Billy had fucked
Conrad and then gotten sucked by Jason in Visual Communications class the
day after Columbus Day, but that was, as far as Brent knew, his one and
only time to have sex with a guy, and that day had been unusual. As he
realized he'd just admitted to having a desire to have sex with a guy, he
became so embarrassed he wanted to die. He had to have said that in front
of Billy of all people!
Billy took out his wallet, and taking out a picture he printed off the
net, handed it to Brent. "This is a Prince Albert."
"Holy fuck!"
"Isn't it hot?"
"I dunno," Brent said. "It gives me the shivers." He looked again.
A couple guys came in and he quickly handed it back to Billy.
"Com'on," Billy said, motioning for Brent to follow him. He took
Brent up to the control booth above the rink where the announcer for the
skating carnivals played the music and they controlled the lights and
cameras. Taking out his wallet again, he fished around and handed Brent
another picture he'd printed off. "I don't know if I should go with a
Prince Albert, or an ampallang or two."
Brent looked at the pierced glans and shivered again. He'd have
neither. "I dunno. If you got one of those Prince Albert things, wouldn't
you have to take it out each time you piss, or, well, you know, cum?"
"They say piss dribbles off the ring a bit," he responded. "I don't
know what it'd be like to shoot a load with one in."
"If you take it out, wouldn't your piss leak out the hole?"
"The guy I was talking to said you got to pinch it shut."
"Well, I'd go for the ampallang."
"You would?"
"I mean, if I was going to choose."
"I was thinking maybe of getting a PA and a belly button ring and
connecting the two with a silver chain," Billy said, handing Brent another
picture in which the person had that done.
"Then if someone asked you how it's hanging, you could say, 'from my
belly button'," Brent suggested with a chuckle, causing Billy to laugh.
"I got a pile more pictures on a disc at home," Billy said.
"Where'd you get them?"
"There's a wicked piercing site on the net. I can email you the url
if you like."
"Sure," Brent said with a shrug. "I'd like to see your other pictures
some time."
"Really?"
"Sure."
The two boys looked at each other, and thinking the same thing, stood
there awkwardly for a few seconds, though to them, it seemed an hour. As
Billy leaned forward Brent, quickly followed and the two boys kissed. It
felt strange kissing someone with a ring in their lip. It felt even
stranger kissing someone as hot as Billy and who was a friend. The first
kiss lead to a second and a third.
"Ah, we better go somewhere else," Brent suggested. "They can see us
down on the ice."
Stepping over to the door, Billy locked it and then returned to Brent.
"Fuck them," he said as he took the slim blond youth in his arms and
nibbled on his ear.
Brent went instantly hard, and as the boys pushed their bodies
together, he noticed that Billy was hard too. He kissed his cheek, and ran
his tongue in Billy's ear.
Self conscious and worried about being seen at first, as he got hornier
and hornier he soon did not care. Guys and girls kissed and embraced in
public, why not two guys? It wasn't as if they were making out or
something.
He had no sooner thought that than he felt Billy fumbling with his
belt. For the opening of the YMCA he and Brett had decided to dress
identically. They sometimes did that because it was cool to be identical
right down to even their underwear, and other times they did it because it
was fun to confuse people and leave them guessing who was who. As Billy
pulled down his fly and pushed his black Gap jeans down, along with his
grey ribbed Markey Mark boxer briefs, Brent reached over and pushed down
Billy's tight black tights. He was wearing a cup, and he knelt and helped
him step out of it. Brent wanted to bury his nose in it, but he couldn't
get up the courage to do it. Instead, he was satisfied with just feeling
the warmth of the cup from Billy's body, and before he dropped it on the
floor he rubbed his fingers along the damp inside. As he stood, he
casually brought his fingertips to his nose. The fragrance of Billy's nuts
were on them.
The booth was high and the windows about mid waist so nobody could
tell that they were naked from the waist down. Both boys were fully erect,
and as Brent reached out and began to stroke Billy's long, thin cock, he
tried to imagine it with a Prince Albert.
"I think you should come with me and get a PA too," Billy said as he
took Brent's stiff cock in his hand and squeezed it gently. "Then we could
loop a chain around mine and out my fly and over to yours, and we could
walk down the street arm in arm, our PA's linked together."
"I don't think so," Brent chuckled, pulling back the skin of Billy's
uncut cock. He had a gorgeous knob.
"Well, maybe not in this town, but maybe we could do it in San
Francisco or some place like that."
"Mmm," Brent responded as Billy reached around and slipped his middle
finger along his crack. He tried to imagine the two of them living in San
Francisco, as a couple, and walking hand in hand, dicks joined by a chain.
His young, teenage cock throbbed hotly with the thought. Billy began to
slowly massage his butthole, causing his cock to ooze out pre-cum.
Turning Brent around, Billy squatted down, and pulling apart his
cheeks, licked and darted his tongue against his butthole, causing both
boys to throb hotly with desire. Spitting on his stiff dick head several
times, Billy stood and wedged his knob in Brent's hole. It was not the
first time a dick had sought entry, Brent having done this plenty of times
with his three brothers, and he immediately pushed out. It was not Billy's
first time either, having done this with a cousin from the coast a couple
times, and then with Conrad that one afternoon in class. Bending over and
grasping the window frame, Brent pushed out as Billy pressed forward, and
slowly the two horny teens united.
Looking down at the hockey players and other skaters, the two randy
boys began to screw. Anyone looking up from below would simply have seen
two teenage boys looking out the window, an effeminate-looking boy with
deep blue eyes and long blond hair and rosy lips wearing a warm roan red
Roots pullover with a zipper neck, and looking over his shoulder, a good-
looking boy with jet black hair cut in a Mohawk with silver tips, earring,
three barbells in the bridge of his nose, a ring in his lower lip, and an
open, frilly, blue silk shirt revealing his nipple rings.
Cam and Brett were close to coming. The two fifteen-year-olds were
laying on the floor of the tiny practice room with their arms wrapped about
each other, Cam's butterscotch complexion contrasting with Brett's pink.
Each boy was working his lips up and down the length of the other's cock,
and each was feeling the approach of his orgasm. Their young nuts drew up
tight under their nuts, and simultaneously the two felt the tremor that
announced the release of their cum. Cam's sweet, thick load surged up his
cock and erupted into Brett's mouth, and at the same time Brett's thick
cock throbbed out his love juice. The two boys swallowed each other's
cream eagerly and sucked and clamped their lips down on the other's cock
hungrily. They inhaled the cum-scented air as they gasped with their
ejaculation, and the delight of the other's orgasm. Finally they parted
lips, and swinging around, they kissed each other gently and reached down
and squeezed each other's limp, wet organ. It was their first time
together, but was going to be far from the last.
In the hot, stuffy equipment room, Benny and Justin were gasping too
as they approached their orgasms. Benny was working his slender cock in
and out of his best buddy as rapidly as he could, delighting in the
pleasure of Justin's hot, moist asshole engulfing his cock, and delighting
in the knowledge he was bringing Justin pleasure, as evidenced by the
clamping and releasing of his butthole, and the throbbing of his cock,
which Benny was enthusiastically jerking while he fucked. Their naked
bodies were streaked with sweat, which was trickling down their sides and
leaving their still hairless pits damp. Being jerked off, the massage of
his prostate, and the fact that he was fucking with his best buddy all
assaulted Justin's mind until he could hold back no more and the
thirteen-year-old boy let loose. His cum shot out of his cock and sprayed
the rows of basketballs.
Benny sighed as he felt his buddy shooting off, and he shoved his
slender cock up his butt as he grasped his hips and shot too, filling his
best friend's ass with his hot cum. The two thirteen- year-old boys were
perspiring profusely in the small, cramped storage room. The smell of
leather and rubber combined with that of the sweat of two hot teenagers,
and blended in with the dank aroma of fresh sperm.
Bobby and Aaron were gasping for breath also, the two eleven-year-olds
aggressively bobbing their heads as they slipped their lips up and down
each other's slender little cocklets. As the tingling of their stiff
wieners grew stronger and stronger, they bobbed their heads faster and
faster. The fragrances of crayon and acrylics and plastic filled their
nostrils as the two boys inhaled sharply and trembled as their dry orgasms
began. Shockwave after shockwave shot though their irritated dicks,
causing them to gasp and tremble in ecstasy. The two naked youngsters
grasped each other tightly and snorted with pleasure openly as only preteen
boys can.
Meanwhile, Brent felt himself approaching his climax. It was the
first time he'd had a cock up his ass that was not one of his brother's,
and it felt awesome. To have a good buddy plowing your ass was the truest
proof of friendship, of the love two guys can have for each other. This
was for him, and he knew for Billy, far more than just two horny teens
getting their rocks off. This was love. He concentrated on the wonderful
feeling of the hard, hot cock easing in and out of his butt and as he
sprayed the wall of the observation booth, he felt Billy pumping his load
into him. As Billy wrapped his arms about him and Billy's hot breath blew
against the back of his neck, Brent felt his ringed lip nibble on his ear
lobe. It would be cool to have an earring the fifteen-year-old figured.
When Barry arrived back at the YMCA to pick up his boys and bring them
home for supper, they were all waiting in the lobby as previously arranged,
and all four were ravenous.
"Well," he said as they piled into the station wagon, "this has been
quite the Presidents Day weekend."
"Fu-, fu-, for sure," responded Bobby dreamily.
"Oh yeah, it sure has," agreed his three brothers with a sigh, and the
eyes of the four young boys glazed over as they thought about the events
that had occurred at home, the hospital, and the new YMCA that weekend. It
was fucking great being a kid in America.