Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 16:32:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Down on the Ranch with Grandpa"  Chapter 3

Down on the Ranch with Grandpa

Chapter 3


Peter and I walked across the yard and past the chicken pen to the
bunkhouse.

"I fed them chickens about five this mornin'," Peter said, "and look at em,
them birds about finished it all up.  The little gluttons."

He opened the outside door to his room, and we both stepped in.  It was a
really small room with one tiny window at the head of the bed.

"Sorry I don't have no chair to sit on.  I found an old broken one up in
the barn loft.  I think I can fix it up good enough to sit on."

"Grandpa will get you a chair, maybe a new one," I said.

"No, I don't wanna bother him with nothin' like that.  He done enough fer
me."

Peter pointed to a rather crude landscape hanging on the wall by the bed.
"I done that myself last week.  I like to paint.  Ain't real good at it,
though."

I looked at it and was impressed.  "I can't do anything with art," I said.
I never could.  But I think you're very good.  It's a picture looking West,
isn't it?  Over toward the hills.  "

"Yup.  Kinda peaceful, ain't it.  Yer Grandpa calls it serene."  Peter went
to his small chest of drawers and pulled one open.  "I keep all my stuff in
here.  See, I have my underwear, paints and brushes and some other stuff.
And this is my sweater that yer Grandma gave me fer when it gits cold.
Everthin' I own."  He lifted out a small photograph and handed it to me.
"This is my little brother, Phillip.  He was fourteen when we was
separated."

"I'm fourteen, too," I said.

"I know.  Mr. Crawford, yer grandpa told me."

"Where is he now?" I asked as I looked carefully at the picture.

"Don't know.  Our Maw and Paw gave us up to a home for bad kids before I
can remember.  Then one day, someone come and took Phillip away.  I don't
know where.  And I never seed him again."

"That's terrible, Peter."

"He was my only friend in the whole world.  We slept in a big room with a
bunch of other kids.  Then when the lights went out, he'd come over to my
bed and we'd sleep together holdin' each other real tight.  And we cried.
I've never stopped missin' him."

Peter took back the picture and looked at a long time.  Then he shook his
head and put it carefully back in the drawer and closed it.

"I feel real bad for you, Peter," I said.  "I don't have a brother.  Just a
dumb sister.  She's a lot older than me and just went away to college."

Peter sat next to me on the side of the bed and looked down at the floor.

"I like your room, Peter.  It's nice you have your own room.  I suddenly
felt so sorry for him."

"Mr. Crawford's a real nice man.  When I turned eighteen, he come by the
home lookin' fer workers.  And I guess when he saw how strong I looked, he
asked me if I wanted to work fer him.  I know now that I weren't a very
nice person, and I had trouble gittin' along with the other help here.  One
day, yer grandpa beat the shit outta me, and then did it the next day, too.
It was kinda like tamin' a young bronco, I reckon.  But after that he spent
some time with me and taught me about gittin' along with peoples and bein'
nice.  He taught me a lot about bein' a man.  A real man.  Real men ain't
supposed to be mean.  And he taught me about . . . you know
. . . understanding other men, and about bein' close to them.  And . . . ."

"And?"

"And openin' myself up to the love they can share with me.  The only love I
ever knowed was with my little brother.  But yer grandpa showed me how to
show my love and accept it from others."

Peter leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in
his hands.  Even though I was rather naïve at that age, I was certain he
craved affection.  And I was sure that I reminded him of his lost brother.
I'd never been faced with anything like this before, but I instinctively
put my arm up over his broad shoulders and pulled him close to me with our
cheeks pressed together.

My lips were close to his ear, and I whispered, "You know, Peter, my
grandpa taught me the same lessons during those several weeks I was here.
We can be friends, if you want to . . . now that we both know how."

He pulled his head back, and we smiled at each other.  He put his hands on
either side of my head and kissed me on the lips.  His lips tasted salty,
and I knew they were covered with his tears.  He laid me back gently on the
bed, and we continued to kiss deeply.  I wondered if he had ever done this
with his brother as they slept in each other's arms.

We pulled our legs up on the bed and lay spread out full length next to and
facing each other.  I'd never really taken the lead with either Grandpa or
my Dad, but somehow I felt that this was the time when I should lead off.
I ran my hand over the enormous bulge in his pants, causing him to do the
same with me.  I untied the kerchief around his neck and unbuttoned his
shirt.  A mass of soft, dark hair covered his mighty pectoral muscles, and
his stomach muscles were hard as rocks to the touch of my hand.  I ran my
fingers down over his navel and into a massive bush of pubic hair.

Peter pulled away suddenly and literally tore open his belt and pulled his
pants off over his boots.  He crouched over me and, without unbuttoning my
shirt, he pulled it off over my head and threw it on the floor.  I lay
there while this most masculine of all men pulled down my jeans and under
shorts, allowing my gorged and rigid penis to fly into an erect position.

He stood on his knees next to me and, while he looked down over the full
length of my body, I took in every inch of his manly body, punctuated in
the center by his huge hard and circumcised penis that curved slightly
upward, as well as one of the largest and low hanging set of balls I had
ever seen.  He still had on his wide-brimmed cowboy hat and boots.  Grandpa
told me once that a man may strip naked with no thought, but a real cowboy
never takes off his hat and his boots if he can help it.  Those two things
are what defines a man and can save his life when he works under the hot
Texas sun.

I reached up and took Peter's hat off his head.  But I knew he was never
going to take his boots off.

I was slightly embarrassed to lie there next to his deeply tanned and
muscular body, with my white and smooth and less than muscular physique.
But I saw such longing in his blue eyes as he lowered his head and began
running his fingers and lips and tongue over almost every inch of skin on
my body.  I knew he'd learned well the lesson to do that from Grandpa.  It
was just as erotic as when Grandpa did it to me.  How could this beautiful
man ever be mean, like Grandpa said he was?  As he caressed my body, he was
gentle and loving.  He went over my body with his lips and tongue and
fingers as though it were a fine and fragile piece of sculpture.  He seemed
to worship it as though he was concerned only for my pleasure.  I could
sense the deep respect and love he had for me.

After many minutes, Peter brought his tongue up over my balls and along the
underside of my gorged penis.  He ran his tongue around the head of my
penis for a long time before taking the whole shaft into his mouth.  As he
held it there, he cast his beautiful eyes up to mine.  That look of longing
and love was still there.

As he slowly brought his lips up to the head and down again to the hilt,
and then up again and down again, faster and faster, I felt his hands
caressing the soft hair on my legs.  It tickled erotically.  I prayed he
wouldn't stop.  And I prayed I wouldn't cum.  Not yet.  As I watched his
head go up and down, I reached out and ran my fingers through his thick
blond hair, and then down over and around and in his ears.  I heard a
muffled giggle from him and knew that my fingers were tickling him.

I did everything I could to hold off.  I even tried to think about school
and my bike that was stolen the month before and never recovered.  I
thought about how mad Dad was when I got a "D" in Arithmetic.  I thought
about the nasty girl in my class who threw a ruler at me and cut my lip.
But it was no use.  Peter was bringing me to the edge.  There was no
stopping it.  I felt the sharp cramping at the base of my penis, and there
was nothing I could do but to surrender to the powerful wave that was
taking over the whole middle of my body.  I felt my face contorting as I
let it go.  I felt each surge of cum shoot from my penis into his mouth.
The surges and cramping seemed never to stop as Peter continued to suck
faster and faster.

When it began to subside, I had my eyes closed and was gasping for breath.
Soon, I felt his lips release my penis, and I opened my eyes.  He was still
lying between my legs and running his hands over my legs.  He smiled at me.
The sweetest smile I had ever seen.  He opened his mouth to show me the
load of cum I had given him.  He then lit it slowly run down his throat.

We both sat up, and I gently eased him down on his back.  We both knew it
was now my turn.  When I lay between his powerful and shapely legs with my
head close to his crotch, I looked at what was waiting for me.  A hard
penis every bit as large as Grandpa's.  I did as Peter had done.  I ran my
tongue up over the soft delicate skin of his long ball sack and then along
the underside of his penis.  I loved the feel of the hard veins that
encircled in.  I found the head to be wet with oozing semen.  It was warm
and sticky on my tongue.

I wasn't able to take the whole length of his penis into my mouth---only a
little more than half of it before I felt it close to the back of my
throat.  The head of it was now larger and harder than that of either my
dad or Grandpa.  It felt so delicious on my tongue.  My straight dark brown
hair was long enough that it draped over my forehead and down onto his
stomach between his navel and his pubic hair.  He giggled again, and I
could tell I was tickling him.

I hoped he wouldn't cum very quickly.  His penis was warm---warmer than my
mouth---like a warm sausage just out of the frying pan.  It was only a
matter of a minute or so when I felt his penis enlarging and becoming
harder.  It seemed I'd hardly begun, and there it was, shooting his
powerful blasts of cum into my throat.  He took hold of his penis and
pulled it out of my mouth and continued blasting his thick white cum all
over his stomach and neck.  I thought I had taken his full load, but he
seemed to have en enormous reservoir of cum stored up in those mighty balls
of his.

He reached down and pulled me up by the shoulders.  "Please, Brian, I want
you to clean my skin so I can watch you eat my cum."

It was obviously something he really wanted.  He wanted me to bathe his
skin while he watched, as he had done to me.  I reveled in it.  I not only
licked up every trace of cum from his skin, but continued on bathing his
entire body with my tongue.  I had never in my life, until that time, done
anything so erotic.  As I licked and tasted and smelled his masculine body,
I felt myself going into a sexual frenzy, almost as though I was going mad.

Soon we were lying next to each other, quiet and spent, and running our
fingers idly over the hair on each other's thigh.  I was glad I had some
hair on my legs.  I hoped it would be as heavy as Peter's someday.

After many minutes, I heard him whisper, "I love you, Phillip."

"What?" I said.

"I'm sorry, Brian.  Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"I understand, Peter.  Don't worry about it.  I understand."

I was just a fourteen year-old boy then, and it surprises me today that I
felt like I was a mature man when I told Peter I understood.  Fourteen
year-olds aren't suppose to understand the feelings of adults.  But Grandpa
was right.  I was indeed a man then.


Peter sat up and looked down at me.  "Your dad and grandpa are probably
wonderin' what's happened to us.  Maybe we'd better git up and show
ourselves."

We dressed quickly and went outside.  Peter made a bee-line for the barn
where he had some chores waiting for him.  I went to the house.  I found
Grandma there and asked where Grandpa was.

She nodded toward the back veranda.  "They're out there sittin' and
talkin'"

As I approached the door to the veranda, I heard them talking.  I stopped
just inside to listen for a moment.

"It happened jist the way I wanted it to happen." Grandpa said.  "I watched
`em go into Peter's fuckin' room.  And they might still be there for all
the shit I know."

"Why did you want that to happen, Dad?  Peter's just a ranch hand.  He's
not . . . you know . . . he's not . . . ."

"He's not one of us?  Is that what ya mean?  Shit, Joe, he might be jist a
fuckin' ranch hand, but he's a human bein'.  He's a man jist like you and
me is.

"I know, but . . . ."

"His little brother was all he ever knowed of his family, and then the God
damn mother-fuckers took his little brother away from him.  It makes me so
fuckin' sad to think about it.  His brother was jist fourteen when that
happened.  Jist the same age as Brian is.

"Well, I'm sorry about that, Dad, but . . . ."

Grandpa slapped my dad on the knee.  "Don't ya git it, son?  Peter's become
a fine young man.  He's a good young man.  A whole fuckin' lot better than
when he come here.  But he ain't got no one.  I feel bad fer that young
fucker.  I jist thought that if he got to know Brian, he might think of him
as his brother and make him feel better."

"I think I understand.  So you arranged for them to be together?"

"Fuck no, I didn't arrange nothin'.  All I did was git them two fuckers to
meet this mornin' and let them take it from there.  I'd seen Peter over the
last two weeks when Brian was here alone.  He was lookin' at Brian all the
time like he was somethin' cold to drink on a hot day.  I knew what would
happen oncst they met."

"But, Dad, Brian's not going to stay here."

"Shit, Joe, the fuckin' summer's jist begun.  He can come back."

"But, Dad, you don't want Brian to spend his whole time here with Peter, do
you?"

"Who the fuck said anything about that, Joe?  There's no fuckin' law what
says Brian can't spend his time with both Peter and me."

"With both of you together?"

"Why the fuck not?  And when yer down here, that fuckin' bed of mine will
hold four nicely.  We might even try that out before ya leave in a couple
of days."


I decided it was time I went out on the verandah to greet them.

"Well, if it ain't the little fucker.  What d'ya been doin' with yerself
this morning?"

"Aw Grandpa," I said as I sat down between them.  "You know what I've been
doing."

"Don't know what ya mean?" Grandpa said innocently.

"I'm sorry, but I heard you and Dad talking before I came out here."  I sat
down next to Grandpa and leaned over and put my head on his shoulder.  I
felt my eyes become hot and wet.  "I love you, Grandpa.  You're the best
Grandpa anybody could have."

He put his arm around me and kissed me on the forehead.

"Peter told me what you did for him, Grandpa.  He's such a nice person.  He
never had anybody who loved him.  And they took his little brother away
from him."  I felt tears running down my cheeks.  "How can people be like
that, Grandpa?  Why would someone take his brother away?"

Grandpa held my head close against his chest and ran his hand over my back.
He spoke softly.  "Lemme tell ya, boy.  Not all of us is born lucky.  We
ain't got a choice what kind of fuckin' world we git born into.  There's
jist a lotta bad people out there, ready to hurt ya.  That poor young
feller jist never had a fuckin' chance."

"I just feel so bad, Grandpa.  I . . . I . . ."

"Don't cry, boy."  Grandpa tightened his arms around me.  "That young
feller's gonna be okay.  He jist needed some old fucker like me to come
along and take care of `im."

I looked up into his face.  "Thank you, Grandpa.  I mean thank you for what
did for him.  I want to be his little brother.  Do you think that's okay.
And he could be the big brother I never had."

"That'd be real nice, boy.  That is, if yer Paw thinks it's okay."

I was afraid Dad would object.  But he nodded and smiled.  "Yer Grandpa's
right, Brian.  He's always right.  I think that would be a real good thing.
He'd be kind of like . . . part of the family."

I was so excited that I could feel my penis expanding in my pants real
quickly and getting hard.  I always got hard when I was excited about
anything.  I remember when I had to go up in the front of a school assembly
and accept an award for my work on a science project.  I was excited and I
got so hard, there were titters in the audience when they saw my big piece
of meat bulging out down my left pant leg.  And I saw Dad struggling to
keep from laughing out loud.  He'd seen me with a hard-on at home, but that
was different.

"Lookee here!" Grandpa said as he reached down and squeezed my boner
through my pants.  "You jist got through with Peter.  What the fuck you
doin' with another hard prick so soon?"

My dad piped up and said, "It never takes much to get Brian hard.  It
happens every time he gets excited about something."

"I git it," Grandpa said, as he unzipped my jeans and reached in.  "Yer
excited about bein' Peter's little brother."

I smiled and nodded.  I could feel Grandpa's fingers grabbing hold of both
my penis and my balls.

"Ya got a nice package here, boy.  I bet it felt fuckin' good up Peter's
bung hole."

"We didn't do that, Grandpa.  We just cum in each other's mouth."

"Well, I guess that's enough fer yer first time together."

Just then, we saw Peter hurrying across the yard to the horse barn.  It
seemed to me that he was hoping we didn't see him.  Just as he got to the
Tack Room door, Grandpa called to him.

"Peter!  Git yer ass over here."

Peter walked slowly toward us, and he looked frightened as though he
thought Grandpa was going to discipline him for something.

"Git up here.  What you doin' fuckin' with my grandson here?"

"Huh?"  It was all Peter could think to say.

"Ya know what I'm talkin' about, don't ya?"

"I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't mean . . . ."

Grandpa suddenly bent forward and went into uncontrollable laughter.  "It's
okay, pardner, I's jist shittin' with ya.  Git over here and sit down.  Ya
like my grandson, don't ya?"

"Yes, sir.  I really do."

"Ya know he's only fourteen.  Kinda like a little brother, wouldn't ya
say?"

Peter looked at me and into my eyes with a kind of passion I'd never seen
before in anybody's eyes.

"Yeah.  Like a little brother."

Grandpa put his hand on Peter's thigh.  "I knowed how much ya miss yer real
little brother.  I was jist thinkin' ya could pretend . . . sorta . . . ya
know, that Brian here was yer little brother?"

Grandpa reached over and put his other hand on my thigh, too.  "And Brian
here.  He don't have no brother, neither.  And I jist happen to know he
thinks you'd be a fuckin' good brother.  Don't ya thing that's right?
Would ya like that?"

Peter continued to look at me.  "Yeah, I would.  Yeah, I'd like that a
lot."

Grandpa leaned toward Peter and whispered to him.  I could hear what he
said.

"I jist happen to know, Peter, my grandson is a really good fuck.  I heared
peoples say that brothers are always the best fuck."

"Yes sir."  Peter's lips were quivering, and I could see his hard penis
clearly showing along his pant leg.

Grandpa squeezed both our thighs and said, "After supper tonight, Peter, I
want ya to haul yer fuckin' ass over here so Brian's Paw and me can help
you two brothers git real good acquainted."

Grandpa wrapped his hand around Peter's hard penis under his pant leg, and
said, "Now git back to yer fuckin' chores.  And don't go jerkin' year
fuckin' dick off before we see ya tonight.  We want it nice and horny and
ready for some fuckin' action.  D'ya hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Peter said as he smiled at me and leaped off the veranda,
running for the horse barn.

Grandpa turned to me and squeezed my hard penis again.  "And that goes fer
you, too, boy.  You and him are gonna have the best brotherly fuckin' you
ever thought of."


That night, Peter arrived at the door about eight when he had seen through
the window that we had finished eating supper.  Grandma told him to go on
out to the back veranda where we had gathered.  Peter was wearing Bermuda
type shorts and a sleeveless denim shirt.

Grandpa stood up and moved another chair close to us.  "Here, Peter, have
some of this fuckin' coffee.  Before socializing upstairs right after
supper like this, I always like to set my ass down and have some coffee
while the fuckin' food settles.  Ya know, let off a few farts and take a
good piss."

Grandpa turned to my Dad.  "Hey, Joe.  Ya ever had a guy fart when ya was
fuckin' `im?  That is a fuckin' sensation yer never gonna fergit.  No shit.
Happened to me several times.  One time the fucker's fart was so powerful,
it blew my cock right outta his fuckin' asshole.  Another time, I ran into
some cocksucker in town at the feed store who was achin' to git his hole
plugged.  He let out a fart that just sorta wheezed out around my cock.
Sounded like some fucker blowing snot out of his nose.  Ya know what I
mean?  Then there was the time when I was enjoyin' a good fuck and felt
somethin' pushin' on my cock.  I pulled out, and out shot a bit fuckin
turd.  I told the asshole, what d'ya think I was doin'?  Givin' ya a
fuckin' enema?  That's why I like to git cleaned out and git rid of all my
farts and turds before lettin' someone's cock up my ass."

I really loved to hear Grandpa talking dirty.  I know my dad had worried
that Grandpa's filthy mouth would be a bad influence for me at my young
age.  But it made me feel so close to Grandpa.  He treated me like I was a
grown-up man.  As he said, once a boy can get excited about sex and can
shoot a good load of cum, he's as much a man as any grown-up.  We were now
all men together, and there "weren't no fuckin' sense," as he put it, to
have any secrets about our desires from one another.

I was laughing so hard at Grandpa's stories, I got hard again.  He reached
over and took hold of the bulge in my pant leg and squeezed.

"It looks like yer ready, boy, to give us some action with that thing."  He
turned and grabbed hold of Peter's cock.  "And yer also ready to put that
hot pole to use.  I think it's time to go on up and do some fuckin' work on
the workbench."

When we all arrived in Grandpa's room, Grandpa looked at us and said, "What
are ya'all standin' round lookin' at me fer.  Don't allow no fuckin'
clothes in this room.  Only hot naked bodies is permitted here.  Ya git
outta them clothes in the next two minutes, or I'll tear `em off ya."

As we stripped, Peter never took his eyes off me.  When we were both naked,
he picked me up in his strong arms like I was made of feathers and laid me
on my stomach on the bed.  My head was turned so I could see my dad and
grandpa standing looking down at us.  They winked at each other as they
watched Peter spread my ass cheeks with his hands and then push his face in
between them.  I felt his tongue slashing all around my asshole, and then I
felt some pressure.  I pushed out my asshole like grandpa told me, hoping
that Peter's tongue would enter me.  I felt it slip through the rim of my
asshole and into my rectum.

My dad and grandpa were smiling as they watched.  Grandpa said, "Peter's a
great cocksucker, but he's the best tongue-fucker I ever knowed in all my
fuckin' days.  His fuckin' tongue is almost as long as his fuckin' cock.
Never seen or felt nothin' like it.  Ya gotta let him tongue-fuck ya, Joe."

I just knew Peter's next step was to fuck me.  I wanted it so bad, but I
was kinda scared because his fully gorged cock was fatter and longer than
Grandpa's.  I thought back and remembered when I was constipated once.
After several days, I shit a turd bigger around than Peter's cock, and it
kinda felt good as it slid out of my asshole and into the toilet.  Then I
thought maybe Peter's cock won't be too bad.  I sure was lubricated good
with what felt like a quart of Peter's saliva.

"Okay, Peter, what the fuck ya waitin' fer.  Jist slip that bad boy in
there.  Yer little brother's gonna love it.  Remember what I said.
Brothers fuckin' is the best kinda fuckin'."

I felt those muscular arms of Peter's again as he lifted me up and laid me
down on my back.  He put a pillow under my hips and gently raised my legs
so my thighs were tight against my chest.  For a few moments, he ran his
tongue over my inner thighs and down into my crotch where he took both my
balls into his mouth.  I heard Grandpa whispering to my dad.

"I taught Peter to do that.  Licking the soft fleshy part of the upper
inner thighs is so fuckin' sensitive.  My own brother Sam used to do that
to me and it drove me into a fuckin' `nother world.  Yer Uncle Sam knew all
the fuckin' tricks, bless his fuckin' soul."

As Peter, now on his knees and bracing himself on his arms, mounted me, I
looked down and watched the head of that humongous cock moving into my ass
crack.  It was like when I watched on television the large Apollo rocket
being moved into an erect position on the launching pad.  The awesome sight
was majestic in its beauty.  I felt it touching my asshole, and knew the
unavoidable moment was now at hand.  I grasped onto Peters strong arms and
felt the hard sinews of his muscles covered with soft hair.  My desire for
his entry was now at its peak.  No turning back now.  Fire up the engines
and send that magnificent tool into the depths of my body.  I pushed out my
asshole, begging for entry.

The pressure was building rapidly, and I suddenly felt it break through and
fill my bowels with his hot mass of meat.  It was lift-off, and I was
flying through the stratosphere without wings.  I had the oddest feeling of
craving---craving to have his whole gorgeous body inside of me.  I watched
his magnificent missile pistoning in and out of my asshole.  And with each
thrust, his long balls flopped against my ass cheeks.

Beads of sweat covered Peter's forehead, and his expression was of such
concentration that it seemed as though he were in another world.  I watched
his beautiful pectoral muscles jumping and rippling with each thrust.  With
one hand, I reached up and pinched one of his large, hard nipples, causing
Peter to moan like a dying calf.

Grandpa had told me about the Prostate, and I could feel it being strongly
massaged by Peter's hard penis.

Peter began to slow his thrusts, and I could feel his cock expanding even
larger.  As he threw his head back and called out, I felt his penis
throbbing violently inside of me.  I could feel the warmth of his hot cum
as it filled my bowels.  Over and over, I whispered, "Don't stop, don't
stop, don't stop."

Drops of Peter's sweat sprayed onto my face and chest as his face contorted
and he floated through his orgasm.

After several minutes, I felt the muscles in his arms flex as he collapsed
his sweaty body onto mine.  We kissed deeply with his long wet tongue
reaching almost to the back of my throat.  I wrapped my legs around his
waist and my arms around his back.  I never intended to let him go.

Grandpa said, "Those cute little round ass cheeks of Peter's.  Watching
them fuckin' little buns bouncin' up and down while he fucks make me want
to eat `em.  So soft and sweet."

Grandpa lay down between Peter's legs and began licking and nibbling on
Peter's ass cheeks.  Then with his hands, he spread them wide and buried
his face in his ass crack.  I could hear the slurping as Grandpa ate out
Peter's asshole.

I lay there in an absolute state of euphoria.  While I was getting fucked,
I could see my dad standing next to the bed stroking his own cock.  I could
tell he was burning up with desire to cum, but he didn't.

Grandpa pulled his face out of Peter's ass and rolled him off of me.  Then
he threw my legs up in the air and pushed his face into my ass crack.  He
moaned and gurgled as he sucked Peter's thick cum out of my ass.  When he
was through, he rose up on his haunches and licked his lips.

"Christ, that's good stuff," he said.  "It's like drinkin' at the fuckin'
fountain of youth.  Nothin' like suckin' a load of good man juice out of a
tender young asshole."

Grandpa slapped my dad on the butt cheeks.  "Now git up here on the fuckin'
bed, Joe.  You and Brian is gonna show Peter how to double-fuck an old
asshole."

"Who's the old asshole?" Peter asked.

"I'm the old asshole, smart ass.  Now Joe, you lie with yer head up by the
fuckin' headboard.  And you, Brian lie with yer head by the footboard.  Now
scoot yer fuckin' asses up so yer balls and yer cocks are pressin'
together, standin' straight up."

Clear semen was bubbling up out of both dad's and my penises and running
down our shafts.

Grandpa, now on his hands and knees, said, "Peter, git up here and git my
asshole good and wet with yer tongue."

Peter spread Grandpa's ass cheeks and slurped away at his asshole.

Grandpa stood up on the bed and straddled our hips with his legs apart.
His ass was facing me.  He took hold of both of his mighty ass cheeks and,
with his hands, held them apart.  I had a clear view of his hairy asshole.
His hole was actually already open a little, and the rim around it was red
and quivering, as though it was trying to suck something into it.

Grandpa slowly lowered his ass down close to our double penis.  When I felt
his asshole pushing down on it, he wiggled his hips as he pushed harder.
Then suddenly, I felt our hard cocks pop into his asshole.  He continued to
lower his hips until he was sitting on my pelvic bone.  What a sight to
watch our two hard penises disappear up Grandpa's ass.

He started moving his hips up and down, faster and faster.  It was an odd
sensation to feel the rim of his asshole rubbing against only the top side
of my cock.  The bottom side was pressed against my dad's cock.  Dad
reached up and started playing with Grandpa's gorged penis as it was rising
and falling.  At each downward movement, Grandpa's enormous ball sack
flopped down into Dad's pubic hair.

Peter played with my nipples as he lay his head on the bed next to our
hips, watching our two cocks slipping in and out of Grandpa's asshole.
Then Peter moved his hands down over my legs and caressed them gently.
God, it all felt so good.

When I felt the tell-tale signs in my abdomen that my orgasm may be near, I
hoped that Dad and I would cum together inside Grandpa's ass.  After
several more minutes, I knew I was getting so close, I wouldn't be able to
hold it.  Then suddenly, I heard Dad grunting and I felt his hard penis
throbbing against mine.  That was it.  I let it go.  My orgasm was like no
other I'd ever experienced as our two hard penises throbbed against each
other, sending volley after volley of our cum up into Grandpa's rectum.

Then without warning, Grandpa let out a growl and shot his own load of hot
thick cream all over Dad's face and chest.  Each time Grandpa raised his
hips, I could look under and see the sperm flying onto Dad's face.

Grandpa settled down gently onto my pelvic bone.  We were all gasping for
air with our chests heaving.  As Peter quickly move to Dad's face, licking
off all of Grandpa's cum, Grandpa rose up off our penises slid his ass back
toward my face.  He lowered his ass onto my face and let all of mine and my
dad's cum drain onto my lips.  The fact that our cum had been inside of
Grandpa's bowels made it taste like honey.  I pressed my lips against his
asshole and sucked as hard as I could to get every drop.

Soon, all four of us were lying exhausted next to each other on the bed.
Peter and I had our legs entwined and we began kissing and caressing each
other's body.

Peter ran his fingers lightly over my lips.  "I love ya, little brother.
Please don't go away.  Not again.  Don't let anybody take ya away now."

Grandpa said quietly, "Nobody's gonna take him away.  Any Goddamed
mother-fucker who tries, I'll cut his fuckin' balls off.

"But Grandpa," I said.  "I'll have to go back home to school."

Dad sat up and leaned over us.  He kissed both me and Peter on the lips.
"Sure you've got to go back to school.  But that doesn't mean Grandpa won't
let Peter come up and stay with us sometimes.  You know, Peter's part of
our family now."

"Yeah," Grandpa said.  "And brothers who fuck together stay together, or
whatever the fuck that saying goes.

Grandpa sat up and looked at the clock on the bed table.  "Shit, it's only
eleven o'clock.  Let's all go on out to the fuckin' veranda and cool off
our hot bodies in the cool night air.  Y'all git up and go on, now.  I'll
git a bucket of beer and join ya."

My dad went on outside, but Peter and I stopped in the bathroom to pee.
Peter held onto me as we peed together.

"Brian," he said, "I ain't gonna let nobody take my little brother away
from me agin.  I'll kill myself if that ever happens.  I will."

I couldn't find the words to tell him how happy I was to finally have a big
brother.  I knew he wasn't really my brother.  But I would never think of
him as anything else.

"I'm real excited," I said, "that you can come up to San Antonio and stay
with us sometimes.  We'll do all sorts of stuff together, just like
brothers do.  We can go swimming and hiking and camping.  I know of a real
neat place I sometimes go camping at.  It's in the woods.  We can sleep
together under the mesquite and pecan trees and huddle together as we
listen to the coyotes howling in the distance."

We stood there with our dripping penis hanging down over the toilet and
held each other tightly in our arms.

Suddenly, Grandpa was at the door.  "What the fuck's keepin' you two."

"I don't know, Grandpa.  We just . . . .  I don't know."

"Come on down and be soshabull," Grandpa said as he stepped over and put
his arms around both of us.  "I'll tell ya what.  Ya come down and have a
beer with us, and then I'm gonna let you two cocksuckers have yer own room
fer the rest of the night.  Yer paw and me will sleep together in my
fuckin' room.  Never let it be said that this old son-of-a-bitch would ever
want to intrude on a couple of horny brothers who want their fuckin'
privacy.  I love ya both.  More than ya'll ever know."

"Thanks, Mr. Crawford," Peter said.

"Shit, boy.  What the fuck is that.  Ya'll call me Grandpa like a proper
fuckin' grandson.  Ya hear me, boy?

"Yes sir.  I mean, yeah, Grandpa.

We all laughed and, with his arms still around us, led us down to the
veranda for a can of beer with my dad.


I am truly surprised and gratified over the huge response I've received on
this series.  I want to respond to all, and although I haven't yet gotten
back to many of you since time is my enemy, you will eventually hear from
me.  In the meantime, if you are interested in seeing any of my other
stories, you can find them listed under Tom Borden in the "Prolific
Authors" section of Nifty.  Thanks again.

Tom Borden