Date: Thu, 26 Feb 2015 16:00:11 +0000 (UTC)
From: BH
Subject: Dad and Me at the Lake House - 13

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The look on my father's face was priceless. His jaw opened dumbly, so that
a tiny piece of egg rolled out, falling back onto his plate. He stared at
me with his brow slowly furrowing. His warm hand frozen in place at the
back of my undies. Uncle Steve started to cackle uncontrollably, pulling
his foot away.  "Your father? Bottoming?!" my uncle roared. "That's a good
one!" He reached over and slapped my dad on the back. "Hear that, stud?
Your son's gonna nail you!" And then Steve cracked up all over again, so
hard he started to cough.

Dad shot him a look. And they both studied my face. I couldn't tell if they
thought I was kidding.

But Dad wasn't laughing. He just kept looking me in the eyes, a weird smile
on his face. I felt his hand pull out of my pants and begin to caress my
lap.

"You think you're gonna fuck your Daddy with this dick?" He asked me, all
sultry. He could feel I was hard at the idea. Getting harder the more
serious he sounded. Dad rubbed me under the table as Steve watched my face,
as if trying to figure out if it might actually happen.

I closed my eyes, focusing every attention on my lap. On my father's
hand. He squeezed my shaft, rubbing the whole length of my young cock with
his wide thumb. And then he slid his hand into my undies again. But down
the front this time. He wrapped his hot grip around me in one slick motion,
lubing me up with my own pre-cum. Steve joined in again, playing with my
knee, then balls, then taint again with his socked foot.

I let my head tilt back and listened to my own breath, my own moaning.

Dad stroked me slow and tight, while my uncle wiggled his toe closer to my
hole. I slumped in my chair, giving them both space. Dad scooted his chair
back, and before I knew it his mouth as blowing warm wet breath through the
fabric at my crotch. He pulled the front of my pants and undies down, so
that my shaft was exposed. Dad took it in his mouth, lapping at my head and
all the way down. Steve followed his lead, pulling his socked foot away,
and rising to kneel on the other side of me.

When I opened my eyes, Dad was sucking me hard. His scruffy face scraped
high up on my thigh as he took all of me in his mouth and throat. Steve
groaned at the sight, rubbing my right shin and calf with his two palms,
waiting for his turn to please me. I whimpered at the thought of the two
burly men worshipping me, father and uncle both. Dad pulled his mouth
slowly off my dick, with ever-increasing suction, so that there was a
popping air sound as my red cock head felt the cool humidity of the cabin
again. And then, within two seconds, Steve took over, his lips coming
within inches of my dad's before engulfing me entirely. I watched both
their manly faces in profile, feeding at my lap and balls. Then staring
into each other's eyes with lust and strange amusement.

I still didn't know what I wanted. And I was still angry. It was all
happening too fast, and I worried that if I got off with them like that,
right then, so soon after our fight, that my dad would think it was okay to
treat me however he wanted.

And yet I pictured my father's face, when I first mentioned him getting
fucked. It was as if he wanted it--not the way I had wanted to get
fucked. But as if he wanted it for me. Getting fucked seemed to be Dad's
way of making it up to me. It was something he could give me that he'd
never given anyone. And in that way, fucking him would make us a little
more equal. I would always be his son, sure. But if I topped him, my father
and now lover would be my bitch, too.

The thought made my cock twitch in Steve's mouth. And I must have made some
kind of noise, because they both looked up at my face, smiling,
attentive. Dad dragged his tongue up my shaft on one side, and Steve
followed his lead, licking the other. Their tongue tips met on my head,
fighting over a glistening pearl of pre-cum as it flowed out.

"Your cock is so fucking hot, Kyle," Steve said, still lapping at me.

"It really is," Dad groaned, as if to himself. But his eyes were on mine.

"You're gonna tear your Daddy up, aren't you?" Steve asked, really seeming
to get a kick out of the situation.

Dad shoved my uncle's shoulder. But when he looked back into my eyes, I
could see Dad wanted it. Perhaps more than I knew. Maybe when I fucked him,
it wouldn't only be for my sake but for his own.

I pushed Dad's head back onto my cock, all the way down. I took serious
pleasure from the little pit of force I put behind it. No one was laughing
now. Dad sucked his own boy's cock, growling at the back of his throat,
nearly gagging. I let my hand trail from the top of Dad's head, down the
hairy nape of his neck, and then down his hard back. He seemed to know
where my hand was going. He gripped the base of my cock and pulled off just
long enough to take a soothing breath. Then, not even looking up, he went
back to his work, milking my manhood.

I slid my hand down the back of my dad's sleep pants. He wasn't wearing any
underwear, and I immediately felt the downy hairs covering his muscular ass
cheeks. I pressed two fingers together, and pushed them under his tailbone,
savoring the feeling of Dad's hairy crack. He wasn't moaning for it,
groaning onto his boy's dick to get fucked. But he wasn't pulling away
either. Steve was kissing the inside of my thigh, watching Dad's face, his
tightly closed eyes. I slid my two fingertips down until they touched my
father's puckered hole. And then I held them there, feeling him start to
squirm.

"Fuck," Dad said, pulling off my dick again. A thick rope of my pre-
dropped out with my prick, and it caught on Dad's stubble. When he wiped
his chin, it smeared, making Dad look sloppy. That's my goo, I thought. My
goo on Dad's face. And the idea turned me on even harder. I heard myself
say it out loud, as if I simply couldn't keep it in.

"My goo's on your face," I said, moaning. And Dad licked his chin with his
big tongue, looking cocky.

Without missing a beat, Steve took over, tonguing Dad's spit and the slime
from my cock. He swallowed both of us down. Then Dad scooted closer. He
sniffed Steve's neck and hair, then lifted my leg and dove underneath, to
lick my balls.

My fingertips were still pressed to Dad's hairy opening. He kept clenching
tight. And so I wiggled my fingers a little, putting pressure on my
father. He arched his lower back, raising his ass higher. My fingertips
pressed into him slightly, and I could feel Dad's body tense. I wiggled my
two fingers again, and then reached farther down, under his hole, to feel
Dad's hardened taint and heavy balls.

Dad was starting to sweat, and I could smell his musk wafting up from his
sleep pants. My guess was he hadn't showered since our fight. I could smell
our sex coming off of him as I tugged his low hanging balls from behind. As
I moaned with gratitude for Steve's tongue and mouth and hand, working me
over, I thought about my Daddy fucking me. How he lifted me off the ground
with the force of it. How his muscled body felt, flexing, as he fucked me
like a wild animal. His own son. Both of us loving it. And remembering the
scene, I came so close to surprising Steve with a mouthful of my nutt that
I had to stop him.

"Hey," I said, pushing Steve from my lap. "Give me a second."

Dad watched as a ridiculous amount of my pre- flowed out in two twitching
gushes. As if he too feared I was close to cumming, Dad licked my pre-
tenderly, gathering it all up in his hungry mouth.

I reached back for my Daddy's hole, hungry to feel him twitch again at the
sensation. But as I did, Dad reached back and pulled my hand from his pants
forcefully.

For a moment, I thought something was wrong. That Dad had changed his mind
about bottoming for his teenage son. But instead, he pulled my two fingers
to my mouth, coating them thickly with my own sweet lube. When he pulled
off of my fingers, they were dripping. I slid my hand quick as I could back
to Dad's crack, smearing it with the mix of spit and pre-cum. This time,
pressing my wet fingers to Dad's hole, I could feel he was ready to open
for me.

"Just one finger," Dad said, matter-of-factly. But I kept both fingertips
against him. Pushing harder.

"One at a time, son," Dad commanded. But I was already pushing them both
into him. Slick and hard, into Daddy's ass.

My father gasped, then groaned, pressing his forehead into my lap. I
realized I wouldn't be able to get my fingers much deeper in him unless I
got at him from another angle. I pushed the men's faces from my lap, and
then pushed Dad onto the table, lifting his hole a little with my two
hooked fingers. Dad groaned for me to be gentle. But I refused, wanting Dad
to pay for sending someone those pictures of him and me.

Steve was as hard as we were, his cock tenting his sleep pants and leaving
a huge wet spot. He came up next to me, feeling up my hard dick as I played
with Daddy's hole, inside the back of his pajamas.

"Fuck your Daddy for me, little man," Uncle Steve grunted in my ear, and I
nodded at him. Steve pulled his cock out and started to stroke it. And then
he stroked us both together as I fingered Dad deep.

"Take it easy on your old man's ass, okay?" Dad begged. But I didn't feel
like making him feel at ease. If anything, I was fantasizing about making
it hurt a little. Of hate fucking my father, like he deserved. I wondered
if it would make me feel better, driving my thick cock deep into him, until
he cried out that it was too much. As brawny and tough as Dad was, I wasn't
sure what he would do if I nailed him hard, right then, instead of taking
it easy on him.

"What? You not sure if you could take your little boy's dick?"

"Not so little," Steve reminded me. But from the look on his face I could
tell he my teasing Dad.

I slid my two fingers in and out, loving the feeling of his hole opening by
my force. I my fingers apart as much as I could, stretching him open. And
then I worked a third finger in as Dad gritted his teeth.

"Fuck, boy," he said. "What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing yet," I said, thrusting into Steve's mighty grip as I fingered
him. "Why? You ready?"

Dad wasn't laughing. He took a deep breath, and I hooked my three fingers
down inside of him. I felt him, hard, from inside too. Dad's prostate
pushed back against my slick touch.

"Sure FEEL ready," I told him, and Steve laughed. But when Dad looked back
into my eyes, he gave me a stern look. Not only was he not amused, but he
was warning me not to press my luck. Every fatherly glare of disapproval,
every punishing glance surfaced in my mind. And a wave of emotion followed,
which dowsed me cold.

Part of me loved it. It made me want to fuck him all the more. All the
harder. To give it to my dad as sternly, as firmly as he'd ever given it to
me. Who was he to warn me, anyway, having already broken my heart. As far
as I was concerned, that was the worst he could do. As far as I was
concerned, Dad deserved whatever was coming for him. And so I no longer
cared if it hurt.

I returned Dad's glare, reflecting his anger back at him. I felt his ass
clamp down on my hand as I pushed his prostate again. But he didn't try to
push me out. In fact, he moaned "baby" at me. He pushed two plates right to
the floor with a crash and bent over onto the tablecloth. I pushed in and
out, staring at the ham and eggs in Dad's arm hair. At the mess he'd made
on the floor. Fuck, he was hungry for it.

Steve let go of my dick, and I pressed my hardon to Dad's ass cheek as I
slowly pulled my three fingers out.

"Give me a minute," Dad said right away. He acted afraid, like I might ram
my eager cock into him at any moment.

But in truth I wanted a minute, too. The scolding look in Dad's eyes had
upset me. And I felt a little repulsed. Not sexually. That part of me
remained unreasonably aroused by my Dad's gruff reminders that he was
forever in charge, no matter who was fucking who. But something wasn't
sitting right with me. Sure, I also hated his gruffness. I wanted Dad to
want to hold me, to kiss me, to take care of me in every way he could. To
tuck himself in next to me and lock me in his arms. I wanted every romantic
movie I'd seen to feel cartoonish and shallow next to my father's kiss and
its unfathomable passion. But what I wanted, too, was to feel protected
from him. For our new closeness to come with privileges, like the ones Mom
enjoyed once upon a time. Namely, that Dad never condescended to her. Never
gave her stern looks. Never told her what to do, as if it were a command.

The more I thought about all of that, though. The more my cock oozed on
Dad's ass cheek. I didn't want to be like Mom to him, did I? No. I wanted
to be his boy. To have the relationship we did, only more. I convinced
myself that Dad's gruffness with me was a badge of honor. And that if I
wanted to be Daddy's lover, I had better get used to it.

I rubbed my tender dick against Dad's hole. I could feel Steve behind me,
hard against my own ass cheek. He whispered for me not to hold back, that
my Dad needs it bad. "Trust me."

Dad lifted his head up. Looked back at me again. This time, it was with a
sweet expression. It said "Can you believe we're doing this?" And yet, it
was Dad's earlier glare I held in my mind as he told me he was ready. I
could hear in his voice how badly he wanted it. And I knew from the way my
uncle was oozing down the back of my knee that this wasn't something Dad
had ever been willing to do with anyone else.

And yet, that nagging uneasy feeling remained. It wasn't that I was angry
with Dad--though I knew I was. It was that I had no fucking idea what Dad
wanted. Not anymore. I thought about us moaning to each other from separate
bunks, begging for each other's cum. About spooning in that tent, having
played together with Uncle Steve. I thought I knew what Dad wanted from me,
then. But I must have been wrong. Or he wouldn't of done what he did.

I simply couldn't shake the feeling that Dad was using me for his own
amusement. Even right then, about to be fucked. Pretending he didn't want
it, when clearly he really, really did.

 "Get it done, already," Dad said to me, stoically.

Steve slapped my ass cheek, as if he were taunting a rodeo bull. I pulled
back, my slimy dick sliding down Dad's crack, and across his twitching
hole. I backed away more, so Steve had to step back too, and give me some
space. I watched Dad press his face to the table, spreading his legs a
bit. He looked ready, alright. "Fuck me," Daddy growled.

"You heard the man," I said to Uncle Steve. "Fuck him." I pulled my undies
up over my hardon.

They both looked at me, confused. And then at each other. As if I were
making a joke they didn't get.

"I'm not really in the mood, anymore, to be honest." I said it coldly,
looking Dad right in the eyes. He huffed, as if he should have seen it
coming.

Steve stepped right up behind his brother-in-law, as if he were eager to
take my place, but Daddy shoved him away, annoyed.

"You angsty little shit," he said to me, pulling his sleep pants up over
his lubed-up ass. "I thought you were over it."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. I couldn't believe he felt that
way. I mean, I wasn't surprised he was pissed. In fact, I was glad he
was. I hoped he felt embarrassed, too. But I couldn't tell if he was
blushing or enraged. And so I didn't know what to believe.

"I thought I was too," I said plainly. And then I locked myself in the
bathroom, washing my dad's ass off my hands. They were shaking as I ran
them under the water. And then I stood there with the water running, just
thinking. By the time I turned the water off, my world was spinning. The
feelings of the night before were surfacing again in strange ways. My mind
raced through Dad's emails to me, the ones he'd sent as "Keith," thinking I
was some random kid. I thought of Steve and I, parked in front of Shawn's
apartment. And I thought of the pleasured look on my face in the dirty
pictures we'd made. What was I going to do?

I listened, hoping to hear Dad and Steve say something reassuring. But they
weren't talking loud enough, if they were talking at all. And so I imagined
stepping out of the bathroom and finding Steve sucking Dad or Dad fucking
my uncle. And I didn't want to see that. I wanted to go home. To pretend
none of what I'd done had happened. That it had all been a dream.

"Really want to meet?" I wrote to Shawn. "Could you pick me up?" I included
what I thought was the address to the lake house, warning him I wasn't sure
exactly of the street name.

I sprang out of the bathroom and straight into the big bedroom, to
change. I didn't look up at them, and they didn't call for me to calm
down. I closed the door loudly, locking it. And then hurried to pack a
little bag, in case I needed to stay with Shawn. I wasn't sure what I was
doing, only that I needed to get away, to think.

I stepped out of the room, ready to argue. I fully expected Dad to pick a
fight, to forbid me for leaving to meet some stranger boy. Ironic as that
would be. But neither of the men were at the table or in the living room. I
looked at the mess on the floor, eggs and broken plates. And then past it,
up toward the porch. Sure enough, they were out there. Dad pacing,
furious. Steve leaning casually against the railing, looking out at the
water.

I could hear Dad saying something about "his responsibility" and "gone too
far." Though the words were muffled by the window glass, and so every fifth
word was illegible.

I snuck out of the house, avoiding the porch. I had no idea how far I could
get before they'd realize I'd run out, or how mad they'd be. Or
worried. Those weren't my problems. And I had enough problems of my own at
the moment.

I walked up the gravel driveway, toward the road, careful not to make too
much noise. I opened the gate and stepped out onto the asphalt. I checked
my phone, knowing I wouldn't have service if I wandered too far from
Steve's house. Thankfully, there was a message from Shawn saying that he
was on his way. I wrote back and said that I'd be up the road a ways. Said
I'd be watching for him.

A small part of me still worried that Shawn was really my uncle. Steve
claimed to know Shawn, but for all I knew it was all made up. But the fact
that Shawn had written back and Steve was seemingly oblivious to my escape
made me all the more confident that Shawn was who he claimed to be.

I walked farther up the road, turning back frequently to see if I was
visible through the trees. But I couldn't see the porch from the road. And
so I knew I was safely out of Dad's sight.

I heard a car ahead of me, and took care to step out of the road. It was an
old gray model. Probably older than I was. I squinted to see the driver as
the vehicle approached, but the reflection on the windshield was too
bright. It wasn't until the car was passing me that I saw Shawn. I
recognized him immediately by his haggy straight boy hair and fuck you
expression. He passed me slowly, sizing me up. I waved as the window rolled
down, and Shawn smiled cautiously.

"Kyle?" he said, and I nodded. "You okay man?" And I shook my head no.

"Get in," Shawn said, and he unlocked his door.

I was nervous, suddenly. What did I really know about this guy? But I got
in anyway. I fumbled to put on my seat belt while Shawn managed a
three-point turn.

"Thanks, man. You're a savior." My voice sounded incredibly young compared
to Shawn's. He was a few years older. In college, like I had thought. He
told me that the grandparents he was staying with were out of town. And
that he'd been going a little stir crazy, watching all the Star Wars movies
in order of their release dates. I listened while he made chit chat, making
me feel like him picking me up wasn't totally weird.

"How old are you, really?" Shawn asked, as if he thought I looked way
younger than I'd said. But when I told him, he nodded. "That's not SO bad,"
he said, winking at me. "It's legal anyway."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't ready to acknowledge that we were going
to do anything. Though the moment Shawn did, I started to get hard, right
there in the passenger seat.

"I've been so horny," Shawn confessed, adjusting his dick and peering into
my lap as he drove. "I mean, I've been jerking off constantly. But it's not
enough. Will be good to have a buddy."

I thought of my friend Trevin, jerking with me in my basement, both of us
high as hell. How he'd cum into his hand, watching me beat mine. The smell
of his load thick in the air. The look on his face as I continued to
stroke. But Trevin had never said the words, had never called me "buddy"
with his voice as deep as Shawn's.

"Yeah," I said, nervously. Not knowing what to say.

It felt like a lifetime ago since I'd seen Trevin, or thought of him
even. It was hard to believe I'd been that innocent just days ago. So much
had happened since then, that I couldn't imagine who I'd back while Trevin
stroked. I thought of reaching for Shawn's dick right then. I'd put my
mouth right on it, if he let me. Driving and all. I'd done so much with Dad
and Steve lately that I felt secure in my ability to please a buddy like
Shawn. And thinking of that fact, I started to feel comfortable. In
control. I was there with Shawn because I wanted to be. Not only to escape
my family and the lake house.

I adjusted my own plump cock, aware that Shawn would see me do it. As soon
as I did, the guy reached over and gripped my hardening dick. His eyes
studied mine. And I ground my hips up into his touch, so he knew it was
okay.

"Sorry," he said. "I have a bad habit of taking without asking."

"Hot," I said. In fact, I purred it. Shawn swept my leaking cock head with
his thumb. We were pulling into his grandparents' driveway. And sure enough
it was the same place Steve had taken me. "I think you know my uncle," I
said to him, forgetting that might be a weird thing to say with Shawn
actively fondling me. He laughed, letting go of my dick as he parked the
car.

"Is that right?" Shawn said. He undid his seatbelt, and sat waiting for me
to say more, his hand on the door handle.

"Nevermind," I said, and undid my seatbelt, too. I opened the car door,
watching my own hard dick bounce as I got out of Shawn's ride.

Shawn unlocked the heavy door double doors. It was a fairly grand
entranceway for a lake house, with wrought iron over fogged glass. It
seemed an actual house, instead of Steve's cabin, which was just that. I
read the name on the door knocker: Beckley. They must be rich, I
thought. And yet Shawn's car was anything but fancy.

"So, how do I know your uncle?" Shawn said, letting me in and turning off
an alarm system.

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," I said, wishing I could take it all
back. But now Shawn was really intrigued. He looked at me funny. "I assume
he met you chatting or something. He mentioned asking if you liked older
guys once." I shook my head like I must have the wrong person in mind. I
wished I could take it all back. But the more nervous and weird about it I
got, the more attracted to me Shawn seemed to get.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Shawn said, coming in for a kiss. But I dodged
him. It was out of instinct! I don't know. I regretted it immediately But
once I'd done it, I couldn't take it back. Shawn didn't look discouraged,
though. He took my backpack and offered me a drink. He opened the curtains,
showing off an awesome view of the water. As the living room filled with
light, I noticed that the inside was as gorgeous as the outside. Only,
Shawn's movie picnic madenss had left quite a mess. I found it charming,
honestly. But when Shawn turned around, he looked horrified. He raced to
pick up empty bowls of chips. Microwave burrito wrappers. A T-shirt and
discarded undies that were strewn on the floor and wedged in the couch
cushions.

"Dude," I said. "Leave 'em."

"If I had known I was going to have company..." Shawn started to say. But
seeing the lust in my eyes, he let the mess drop to the floor, making a far
greater mess than he'd started with. Shawn stepped right up to me, close
enough to kiss, and reached between my legs for my cock. He rubbed me as he
spoke.

"I love that you talk to your uncle about that shit," he said. "He knows
you're gay, then?"

"Uh huh," I said, moaning. But I didn't want to tell him more than that.

I groaned that what Shawn was doing felt good, reaching for his own tented
shorts. His dick felt thick and veiny through the thin fabric. I could tell
he wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Is your uncle hot?" Shawn said, as if testing me. I didn't want to reveal
too much, but I didn't want to fail the test either.

"I guess so," I said. And Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. He's a hot man."
Shawn smiled at the admission, and we felt each other up hard.

"Why?" I asked between groans, "I mean, he said you didn't like older
guys."

"Well, he said wrong," Shawn said. "I like all kinds."

"Even my kind?" I asked, flirtatiously.

"Definitely," he said. He let go of my lap long enough to undo the button
on my shorts. He pulled them down to my ankles, then continued feeling up
my tenting boxers. "Eager little bro like you?"

I melted into him as he said it, recalling Steve's voice when we had been
roleplaying for Dad. It had been hot having a brother then. And my cock
swelled again when Shawn said it.

"You like that, huh?" Shawn said, and I nodded dumbly.

"Fuck," he said. "You like that a lot." I blushed, nodding again. Shawn
pulled our waists toward each other. "Good. Me too, bro."

I wondered if Shawn would be into it if he knew what I'd done with Dad and
my uncle. If he knew that it wasn't only fantasy for me. That I'd actually
been fucked by my own father the night before.

Shawn ground into me hard, but as wet as we were, our hard cocks slid more
than rubbed under our clothes. I could feel Shawn's hands pulling my waist,
then reaching back to cup my ass cheeks as he pulled me harder into him.

"Nnngh," I whimpered. "Bro."

Shawn pulled my shirt up over my head and admired my chest. He had his neck
against mine, grinding into me again, when my phone buzzed. It startled me,
which seemed to startle Shawn. I didn't bother to check it. I didn't want
to think about Dad, or Steve, or even Shawn. I wanted to disappear, away
from everything.

"Let's slow down," he said. But I wanted the opposite. I bucked into him
hard, wanting nothing more than to cum right there, our laps pressed
together.

"No, no," Shawn said, pulling us apart. And then he smirked, amused by how
ready I was. "For a first timer, you're not as timid as I thought you'd
be."

"First timer?" I asked. And then I remembered. When we had first written I
told Shawn I had only jerked off with a guy. As far as he knew, that's
still all I'd done. "Oh," I said. "Well, I can't help it. My big brother
Shawn is just too hot." I leaned in to kiss him again, but he wanted us to
cool down.

Shawn sat on the couch and waved for me to join him.

"Come here, little bro," he said. But his voice was different. He seemed to
want me to play along.



"What, are you going to give me a wedgie?" I asked. I shuffled over in my
leaky underwear, my shorts at my ankles.

"No, kiddo. I thought we could watch a movie or something." Shawn reached
for the remote and started flipping through channels while I sat down next
to him. I kicked my shorts off, and leaned into my new buddy.

Shawn put his arm around me as he searched for something for us to
watch. It was nice. Big college boy arm wrapped around me. It was nothing
like my Dad's. Shawn was lanky, his muscles long and skinny. I let myself
get comfortable, under that hot arm. Wondering if he ever played
basketball. If he had the shorts somewhere, I wanted desperately for him to
put them on. My head resting on his shoulder, I could smell the manly smell
on his ripe shirt. He probably had slept in it. I nuzzled against his arm,
feeling Shawn's brotherly hand trail my ribcage. I giggled and squirmed.

"What?" Shawn said, smiling. But he wasn't stopping.

"I'm ticklish," I said, my voice cracking. Shawn tickled me harder, not
taking his eyes off the TV. "Really, stop," I told him. But he
wouldn't. And so I laughed harder, writhing to get away from him. I could
barely breathe, I laughed so hard.

When I finally wiggled out of his grip, I fell from the couch and onto the
floor.

"You are adorable," he said seductively. I scooted up next to him again,
but grabbing his wrist this time so he couldn't tickle me.

Shawn pressed play and some movie came on. He set down the remote and
leaned back, welcoming me against him again. I didn't want him to tickle me
though, so I held on hard to his wrist.

"It's okay bro, I'm not going to tickle you. I promise." There was a
twinkle in his eyes, but I decided to believe him. I let go of his wrist
and got comfortable again, snuggling with my pretend big brother.

"What are we watching, anyway?" I asked. Shawn's hand was on my waist. He
seemed to take great pleasure from stroking the little inch of elastic
between his thumb and my hip bone.

"Super heroes," he said. "Your favorite."

"Thanks," I told him with exaggerated excitement. Super heroes weren't
really my favorite, but I didn't care. It's not like I intended to watch
the movie.

"I'm sleepy," I said, nuzzling into Shawn hard, loving the smell of him.

"It's cool, lil bro. You can take a nap if you want."

Shawn made room in his lap for me to lay there as we watched TV. He
adjusted his dick, and I rested my head on his thigh. Before long, there
were men in tight outfits beating each other up on the screen. I felt
Shawn's cock twitch under my scalp as he pet head with his warm palm. It
was sweet. Gentle. Shawn rubbed my ear lobe and the line of my chin with
his knuckle. Before I knew it, his thumb was grazing my bottom lip.

I looked up at him, but he was pretending to watch the screen.

I let myself believe Shawn was my older brother. I tricked myself into
forgetting who and where I really was. And it felt amazing, not being me.

The next time Shawn's thumb touched my mouth, I opened it a little. As I
did, Shawn's thumb tip slid against the wet part of my lip. He spread his
legs wider. I could feel the heat from his hard lap. I touched the edge of
his thumbnail with the bottom of my tongue.

"I'm sleepy too," Shawn said. And he jostled me up. "Let's spoon, bro," he
said. And then we settled down again on the couch. Only this time with the
whole length of his body behind me, pressing into me, hugging me tight. His
knees rested at the backs of my own knees. Shawn's hard chest pressed to my
tender, naked back. He only let me go long enough for him to take his shirt
off, too. And then his arms were back around me.

"Feels so good, bro," he groaned, grinding into the ass of my
underwear. Then he reached around me and put his hand down the front of
them. He felt up my pubes and all around the base of my shaft before
gripping my hard dick.

"What you got there, little bro?" Shawn said it like I'd done something
wrong. He gripped my cock harder, as if it were my wrist and I were trying
to get away.

"Looks like someone has a crush on his big brother," Shawn teased. I
nodded, not knowing how to best play along.

"You didn't think I'd notice that you were hard, did you?" he asked me, and
I shrugged.

"It's okay, bro. I wont tell." I let Shawn fondle me, grinding harder the
more into it he got. He sniffed my hair and kissed behind my ear, moaning
in low tones, repeating how good he felt over and over in my ear. And then
he told me what a good little brother I was.

I thought of Dad calling me his good boy. And then I hated myself for
thinking of him.

"Everything cool?" Shawn asked, taking a break from roleplaying. "You keep
flinching or something." He held me tight. And I told him I was sorry, and
that I had a lot on my mind.

"Roleplay's good for that," Shawn said. "Gets me outta my head." I nodded
in agreement. But as if on cue, my phone buzzed again. My shorts were on
the floor, my phone in the pocket. But still when I heard the muffled
sound, it felt like a tug on a leash. I wanted to know what the message
was. And yet I didn't. I wanted shut the world out entirely.

With an exaggerated huff, I pulled Shawn's arm off of me, and reached for
my shorts. I pulled out my phone and, without even reading the messages,
turned the damned thing off. Then I threw it on the floor again, a little
too hard. It didn't break or anything, but Shawn seemed to stiffen against
me, as if he wasn't sure if I was okay. I pulled his long arm back around
me, settling against him. And then, once we were comfortable again, I
ground my ass against his lap.

"You know you can always talk to your big bro," Shawn said, slipping back
into character. And I nodded again.

"I might tease you and stuff, but I hope you know I have your back. I mean,
no one loves you more than me, kiddo."

"Thanks, bro," I said, truly feeling thankful. "I know I can tell you
anything."

And yet, as I said it, I knew it was a lie. I couldn't tell Shawn anything
I was thinking. Even the things that weren't about my dad and my
situation. Every thought that had crossed my mind seemed a puzzle piece
that didn't fit into Shawn's role play. I wanted to ask if he had a real
brother, and tell him that I'd always wanted one. I wanted to ask if Shawn
had any weed, and how often he'd picked guys like me up. How many times had
he played out this same scene with a stranger? And was he always the big
brother, or did he somehow pick up on my need for one?

"You did it again, bro," Shawn said. He squeezed my upper arm in
solidarity.

"I know," I said with a sigh. "I'm sorry." I rolled around in place to face
him. My face was so close, our hips and crotched in perfect contact. "It's
not you, bro. I'm loving this."

"Good," Shawn said. He reached to push his bangs out of his face. He
smelled vaguely like pot. At least his hair did. But it felt rude asking.

"What?" he said, like I'd flinched again. Though I know I hadn't.

"Just thinking of old times, bro," I said. "Here at the lake house when we
were kids. You and me. Getting into trouble."

"Taking the rowboat out at night."

"Exactly," I said. "Sneaking away with beer and pot. Alone on the water."

"Fuck'n yeah," Shawn said. "All high and horny on the water."

"Yeah." I ground into him. Kissed the tip of his smooth, strong chin. But
even though it wasn't stubbly like my Dad's, my father's chin is what I
thought of.

"You were always begging me to skinny dip," Shawn said, and I thought of
Uncle Steve.

"You got any pot, big bro?" I blurted out, barely roleplaying. But Shawn
didn't seem to mind. He smiled at me, as if I'd read his mind.

"Would it help you get into it, bro?"

"Yeah, bro."

"Good."

I waited on the couch, stroking, while Shawn disappeared down a hallway. I
thought about turning my phone on, briefly. But I preferred to stay hard
and practice blocking it all from my mind. So instead, I thought of Shawn
and me in a row boat. A six-pack and a joint. Pissing over the edge, tipsy
and a little high. Catching glimpses at each other's cocks, out on the
water, in the sunshine. I imagined him, just as he was, but in swim
trunks. His tan chest and shoulders. His small brown nipples and
rectangular pecs. He looked like a surfer, with his long dirty blond hair
and lightly bronzed skin. I could imagine him like that, his skin sparkling
with the spray, out on the surf. Only in a row boat, his swimsuit riding
low.

Pre-cum oozed from my cock, inside my underwear. I listened for Shawn,
expecting him to appear from the hallway at any moment. But in the
meantime, I enjoyed the version of him my imagination had conjured.

I imagined begging him to skinny dip, as Shawn had said. Watching him put
his thumbs under the elastic of his suit, right under his hipbones,
perfectly framing the V of his lowest abs. And then just standing there in
the sunlight, taunting me.

"Beg me, lil bro," I imagined him saying. And then I imagined begging him
to how me his big bro cock. Our little secret. Out there on the water.

I was going at it pretty good when Shawn finally appeared. He smiled at the
sight of me, panting. I slowed down immediately, upon being caught. And sat
up, making room for him.

"Sure I shouldn't give you some time, bro?"

"I was getting into it," I said, though I guess that part was obvious.

"What were you thinking 'bout?" Shawn gripped my dick through the wet
fabric. Stroked it long and slow with his warm palm, as if he were petting
an animal he cared a great deal about.

"Us," I told him. "In the boat. Like you said."

"Yeah?" Shawn had a pipe, and was packing it. I had never been around fresh
pot before. It wasn't dry like Steve's or all broken up into dust, like
Trevin's. It was green and stuck to Shawn's fingers as he pushed it down
into the bowl.

"Yeah," I echoed him. "You were teasing me. Making me beg to see it."

"Such a mean big bro," Shawn said. "I'm a little nicer than that. I'll let
you see it, don't worry." He put the pipe to his lips and lit it, drawing
in fast. The weed inside orange through the glass. He handed it to me and
then blew the smoke up over his head in a cloud. "It's touching it or
tasting it that I'll make you beg for." And then Shawn fell back into the
couch, high. Touching himself, closing his eyes.

"Beg me, bro," Shawn said, ready to play. But I was still fumbling to hold
the lighter without burning my thumb. He sat up and lit it for me. I took a
harder hit than I expected and it instantly seared my throat. I coughed it
all out, and then hacked while Shawn rubbed my back.

"Adorable," he said, as if he weren't at all worried if I would be okay.

He handed me a cup of flat soda and I drank it down happily, then
concentrated on breathing. But as I focused on the feeling in my lungs, I
felt the high come on too. All at once, I felt loopy, off kilter. I smiled
at Shawn, laughing at myself, and he leaned in to kiss me all over
again. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, grinding our wet underwear
together. He reached down and pulled his off. And I let him pull mine off,
too, loving the feeling of having someone do it for me. I laid there naked,
under him, grinding upward against it downward motion, our mouths sloppy
with each other's spit.

"You're so fucking hot," Shawn said. But it wasn't for play. "How long will
you be at the lake?"

"Shhh," I said, not wanting to think. "Bro. I'm never leaving." Shawn
worked his way down my body until his mouth was on my cock. He sucked it,
faster and with more suction than Dad or Steve had done. Like he was a
machine, working for my cum. He didn't look up at my face put on a show
with his eyes closed. He just pounded his mouth and throat onto my cock,
twisting his hands up and down on the base.

He pulled off, just long enough to gauge my reaction. I opened my eyes wide
to signal my approval. And then was back onto my dick, sucking.

"You like sucking your little bro's dick?" I asked, and he nodded, slowing
down.

"You like licking your little brother's balls?" I asked, and Shawn moved
lower, taking both my nuts in his stoner mouth. He reached down and started
stroking himself. And then, with his mouth full of my balls, he licked an
inch of my taint hard.

"Fuck," I said, breathlessly. "Do it bro. Tongue my hole." And Shawn began
to lap at his little brother's ass, darting his tongue in and out as I
loosened my pucker.

"There's no way you're a virgin," he said, eventually. He played with my
ring with his thumb, studying my face.

"Yeah," I said. "I know." I wanted to tell him I wasn't a liar. That at the
time I first wrote to him I was, truly, a virgin. And that a lot had
happened in the last few days. But I couldn't do that without risking him
knowing about Dad and me. And so I decided to let him think I'd
lied. "Sorry," I said. "I haven't done much, though."

"It's not a problem," he said. "I don't fuck tricks, anyway."

But hearing that was worse than anything I could have expected. I went
instantly from feeling like a brother to feeling like a cheap whore. It
shouldn't have been a shock, considering how we met and the fact that I was
a trick, I guess. And yet, it hurt a little, hearing it.

"Even if I beg, big bro?" I asked, pushing my luck. But Shawn shook his
head. I wondered if I hadn't lied and was in fact a virgin if Shawn would
feel differently.

"There's plenty we can do. Don't worry."

But Shawn's head popped up, like a prairie dog's. He looked flustered,
standing up on his knees. "Shit," he said. "There's someone in the
driveway."



"I thought you said we'd be home alone," I said, high as fuck. I raced to
get dressed. But Shawn was as high as I was, and he just stood there
dumbly, naked and hard. I could see through the fogged glass that someone
was coming up to the door. And then the doorbell rang.

"It's probably the front yard guy," Shawn whispered. "Grandma warned me
he'd be coming by. I don't need to answer it." He walked up to me, ready to
undress me all over again. But I couldn't keep my eyes off the figure in
the doorway. A second silhouette appeared, and seeing the two together, I
knew what was happening.

The doorbell rang again. Shawn seemed to realize it wasn't the gardener. He
had me throw him a pair of undies. Mine were closest, so he put them
on. Even though there was a huge wet spot right in the front, darkening
half the fly.

I was high, or else I would have warned Shawn what was about to happen. But
instead, I watched in slow motion as he opened the door a few inches.

"Is my son here?" I heard my father ask.