Date: Sat, 26 Apr 2003 04:23:42 EDT
From: KissAndCuddleGem@aol.com
Subject: Camping Capers With My Grandpa (Installment 7)

This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.

Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is presented
with the intent to condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.

The above-expressed disclaimer also does apply to any and all installments
of this story, including those preceding and following this installment.

All questions and/or comments are welcome; and, if you wish to contact me,
please feel free to email me at: KissAndCuddleGem@AOL.COM; and I will most
definitely respond to email, as appropriate.


I really cannot say why the memory of how he was is the only mental picture
of him that stays with me even today.  So much time had passed and a great
deal had happened over that span of time affecting one or both of us, no
doubt about that: marriage(s), divorce or widowhood, children, college
degrees, career changes, and numerous struggles to stay afloat financially.
Yet, somehow I just could not visualize my younger brother as being
anything other than this: that noticeably tanned barely past twelve and
really pretty well-developed for his age lad with the features of a
hispanic pop star and also endearing bangs: the one that I continuously
worried about having to protect from Grandpa, now long since past on.

I had been in the shower, enjoying the invigorating pressure of the warm
water against my chest and my hairy sac.  The phone rang, I heard it from
the bedroom "Kenny!  Please pick it up, son.  I am in the shower."

Well, I don't know why I even wasted my breath.  A whole week had passed
since Kenny, Jr. and I had gotten "better-acquainted".  More or less, we
had fallen back into our usual day-to-day routines.  Kenny was busy with
his friends, his heavy-metal rock music, and his newly-discovered interest
in art.  The phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing.  I had
been expecting an important call from the parent company of my employer, so
I thought it would be best not to just let the answering machine go on.  I
raced out of the bathroom, hastily wrapping a towel around me; and picked
up the phone on what must have been like the thirteenth ring.

"Yes, good evening", I said, upon taking one second to compose myself.

"Kenny?", I heard.

"Yes, who is this?", I said, the voice I thought sounding familiar but not
really recognizing exactly who it was.

"It's Jeff, I hope I am not calling at a bad time.  You sound a bit out of
breath."

The call was very brief, about two to three minutes.  I had let Jeff know
in a very humorous yet casual tone that there was a draft in the room; and,
besides, I was not sure where Kenny, Jr. was; and did not wish to tie up
the line for very long.

Jeff had decided that he did not want to wait for the Fourth of July
holiday weekend to be with us.  He explained that he planned to still be
with us then as well; but, as he had been granted vacation leave now, he
thought it would be just swell, just "peachy", as he put it, for him to
make a surprise visit to us in the spring.  Well, I was more than
surprised, to say the least, when he told me that he was just fifteen
minutes away at the local airport as we were speaking.

Well, I know my brother: Something was definitely amiss.  But I figured I
would play things his way and take my own time figuring out what was what
with regard to his situation.

Within fifteen minutes later, Kenny, Jr. hopped in through the rear
entrance.  When he heard that his beloved "Uncle Jeff" would be staying
with us and was about to arrive by cab any second now, he jumped all about
in joy and gave me a high-ten.  His eyes had widened so and his
cotton-ball-white smile was so broad, I felt a bit taken for granted and
jealously wondered: "Why does he not ever react that way with regard to
me?"

I consoled myself, saying to myself: "Kenny, Jr. and I now have something
very special together...and, besides, very soon that hot ass of his will be
mine, all mine."

I felt myself becoming aroused at this last thought.  Then, seconds later,
I thought: "Hey, you better cool it, papa, your "Mister Perfect"-younger
bro' here should not see you with a hard-on like this, and, even more
importantly, can never know of you having sex with your own son."

Of course the challenge was how to actually keep all "in check", so to
speak.  Kenny, Jr. and I were both somewhat nervous.  We decided to wait on
the porch for the arrival of my brother.  Kenny, Jr. actually went to the
trouble of making some lemonade for all of us; and this reminded me of when
Jeffie similarly took care of the lemonade that time long ago while we all
were praying with Aunt Charlotte.  I fought back this time: I reasoned to
myself: "No, no, no, not now....I cannot go back in time now, as if I do
who knows what Kenny, Jr. might let slip to his favorite uncle while I am
'out of it'.  To distract me, I drank five glass of ice-cold lemonade and
chatted profusely with Kenny, Jr. about his art work, his music, anything I
could think of that would keep my mind off the past.

My eyes were so glazed then, that is by the time Jeff arrived in the cab,
that poor Kenny, Jr. kept staring at the pitcher of lemonade in the oddest
way: No doubt he was suspecting I might have spiked it with booze while he
wasn't looking!

Jeff tipped the driver extra for helping to bring his bags inside as well
as something very large and bulky that had been placed for protection
inside a white giant draw-string plastic garbage bag.  Well, it definitely
was not my birthday; but I found myself anticipating with regard to this
surprise; and I had a very wide-eyed expression on when Jeff handed me the
bag and said that it was for me and from him and sort of a family
inheritance.

Jeff was in a nostalgic mood: During dinner, which I had had catered in, he
took it upon himself to speak of the period in which Jeff and I were first
living with our recently reunited parents in California; and then to cover
the first five or six years that we were there and the remainder of our
youth spent in Odessa, Texas, where our family relocated to be closer to
our mom's kin.  At one point, I interjected in this "presentation" what I
thought was an interesting tidbit, relating to Kenny, Jr. that our paternal
grandparents did come to stay with us on visits while we were living in
both California and Texas; but that the closeness between all of us was
never quite the same.  Kenny looked at me with the oddest of expressions on
his face upon hearing me express this.  Within moments, I realized that
Kenny, Jr. knew far too well about "the closeness" between Grandpa and I,
having read my journal.  For whatever reason, I myself had temporarily
blocked out from mind that aspect of things.  Then, at another point,
Kenny, Jr. jested that our family, to him, sound from Uncle Jeff's account
like somewhere between the Oakies portrayed in "The Grapes of Wrath" and
that family in "The Brady Bunch" TV series.  I don't know if it was what he
said or his delivery, but I was laughing hysterically upon hearing this;
and almost peed in my pants.

But it was Jeff's stating that the surprise in the bag was part of my
inheritance that really got the attention of the two of us.  All I remember
of the next few minutes is that I almost keeled over to the floor when, now
gathered in the living room, Jeff pulled out what I immediately recognized
as Grandpa's oversized sleeping bag: yes, to my horror, the very one that I
had shared time and time again with Grandpa.  I actually thought I was
hallucinating when Jeff, oblivious to my reaction, then suggested: "I think
it would be just peachy for all of us to go camping together, we can do
this in tribute to Grandpa, who just loved the outdoors.  Grandpa left this
to me in his will, Kenny, but I am certain that he would have wanted you to
have this: I mean, you being the one he reared all those years and loved
sharing the great outdoors with."

Kenny, Jr. took me immediately to the bedroom to lie down, remarking to his
uncle that my coloring was very bad.  The strangest thing about all of this
was that it was impossible to know whether Jeff was indeed still in the
dark about things, as I preferred to believe.  My instincts were telling me
that if I did go along with this camping venture thing of Jeff's, I should
not let my guard down when it comes to Jeff.  Kenny, Jr.'s chiming in that
he wanted all of us to go camping like one big happy family ensured that
the ball Jeff had thrown out was definitely very much in motion.  At Jeff's
suggestion, and with faraway Forest Grove not being a practical or even,
from my standpoint, desirable alternative, we all set out the coming
weekend to one-time nudist resort Lancaster Lanais.

Jeff assured me that this was the perfect time of year to go camping, that
off-season the place would not be overcrowded with unruly tourists and we
would have greater quiet and serenity.  Upon questioning him, Jeff admitted
that he indeed had been there "once or twice" when the grounds served as a
nudist resort.  He insisted that the place was always maintained first-rate
and that he only dabbled with nudism as a passing fancy.

I am uncertain as to where my head was at this point in time.  I just
remember drinking in everything Jeff said as if it were the Gospel.  Kenny,
Jr.'s enthusiasm and literally being aglow in his uncle's presence also was
blinding me to certain things at the time.  Plus every time I looked at my
brother, all I ever really saw was my sweet, innocent brother.

Still, I began to wonder: When Jeff looked at my beautiful Kenny, Jr., did
he really fully take in the things that I did about the teen: the shiny
dirty blonde hair, the child-like freckles, and the strikingly muscular
build with "six-pack"abs from working out, and, last but not least, the
real nice "basket" below for his age.  I was thinking about this while
lying on my back inside our tent; and apparently simply dozed off while
Jeff and Kenny, Jr. were out on a nearby path bird-watching with binoculars
in the late-afternoon air.  About a few hours later, I went out to collect
some wood for the campfire for later when it would get colder.

Upon returning to the area of the tent, I thought I heard laughter from
somewhere nearby.  But there was no one about; and so I went back inside
the tent.  I quickly got into Grandpa's extra-large sleeping bag, thinking
that I would just rest for awhile and then in about half an hour go out to
join Jeff and Kenny, Jr. if they did not return by then.  I felt hands
grabbing and my belt and zipper and undressing me.

"Hey!", I said.  "What the heck..."

It was then that a very nude Jeff and Kenny, Jr. crawled up to the top of
the bag and popped their heads out.  "Who says three's a crowd?  Sure as
hell not me.", Jeff crooned; and, with that, kissed me forcefully on the
lips thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth.

"Uncle Jeff and I have decided together that this family "legacy" is
something all of us should further explore, together that is of course.",
Kenny, Jr. said softly, becoming exceptionally hard while watching us.

It was abundantly clear, to say the least, that the brother I thought I
still had no longer existed at present.  Still, the weaker side of me
frankly did not give a crap about any of that at the moment.  I was filled
with lust; and becoming very hot and bothered when Jeff's attention turned
to Kenny, Jr. and his nipples.

I got on one side of Kenny, Jr. and Jeff got on the other side.  As I heard
Kenny, Jr. loudly moan, "Oh, Uncle Jeff....oooooooooooooh!  Oh...yes!", I
temporarily stopped kissing and licking Kenny, Jr.'s neck and lobes and
went down between his inner thighs, grasping his semi-hard cock and in one
swoop shoving into the warmth of my oral cavern and sucking on it with all
of my might.  Just as Kenny, Jr. began to release a massive load and I was
savoring the sweet yet slightly salt taste of his delectable precum, I
heard Jeff comment: "Sorry, but lube is not really my thing."  I unzipped
the bag to get a better view; and became fully hard watching Jeff thrust in
his nice thick man-tool, about six and one-half inches fully hard, into my
son's hole."

Kenny, Jr. howled in pain.  But, then, as Jeff developed a steady rhythm
and began a relatively gentle thrusting motion with his hips back and forth
and moving his cock in and halfway out over and over and over, I saw a look
of extreme pleasure approaching ecstasy in my son's eyes.  This made me
feel intense joy for my son; but I suddenly realized that Kenny, Jr.'s
virginity had not been taken by me as planned.  So, after Jeff cummed what
was likely a pretty big creamy load, I pulled him by the hips out of and
away from my son.  I tongued Jeff's lips and nose and the nape of his neck,
doing so to signal that it was simply my turn now for "fun".

I began to caress and lick Kenny, Jr.'s bubble butt; and as the cum of my
brother seeped out of his ass crack, I licked up thirstily ever single drop
and swallowed.  Then I took a handful of cum right from the entranceway to
Kenny's Jr.'s now-reddened hole and I lubed my cock with it.  Kenny,
Jr. lifted up his buns as if extending an invitation, squealing: "Take me
now, Dad.  I know you should have been the first...but, please, please, I'm
begging, take me now!"  I paused for a second, taking in fully that what I
wanted to be a beautiful private father-son experience had somehow ended up
a very heated menage a trois instead. Then, thinking that there was plenty
of time to make up for it later on, I began to do this: slowly, in a
precision-timed motion, thrust the pre-cum-oozing round purplish head of my
surging cock right into the hole and then beyond the sphincter.  Kenny,
Jr., now fully hard, pushed his rear down onto my shaft to accomodate me
better.  I whispered into his ear that I loved him; and Kenny, Jr. kept
repeating between his moans of bliss: "I love you, too, Dad."  After I
released deep into my son, all of us alternated with one another in various
69 positions; and ended the evening with late-night skinny-dipping and much
frolicking and "play" in a slightly frigid lake.

We returned from this camping venture completely wiped out, exhausted, and
stuffed almost to the point of causing nausea with every grilled and
barbecued delicacy known to the universe.  After this venture, Jeff
commented, apparently much-aware of the irony of what he was saying:
"Grandpa would surely be proud of us for all we experienced camping
together."

Grandpa's "camping capers" with me eventually became a family tradition
that was passed on from one generation to the next.  I could very much
appreciate the irony of my Kenny, Jr.'s beloved and presumed-saintly uncle
being the one that got all of us to relive the camping ventures that I
shared with my grandpa so very long ago.  Jeff may indeed be credited with
being the individual who cemented the bond between Kenny, Jr. and myself
and made me want to do all to continue as long as possible the secret yet
extremely special love relationship that Kenny, Jr. and I shared.  Jeff
would join us frequently for years to come for family "fun".  Kenny,
Jr. and I very often would return to our newly-discovered haven nestled in
our modern version of my boyhood's Forest Grove.  Every so often, though no
longer with any reservation, I would allow myself to become rapt in my
reverie and sink into the abyss of the past: There, I once again would find
myself safely wrapped in the arms of my warm, beautiful, endearing yet
often very lusty grandpa and feeling loved, in every way simply and truly
loved.