Date: Thu, 04 Sep 2003 13:10:50 +0000
From: Guy Jameson <guyjameson@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Sons of JJ Jameson Chapter 11

My thanks go to my best female non-gay friend, Dee, for her
encouragement and help in these stories.  However, you
should know that pressures from her job and university work
have forced her to fall way behind my writing.  Therefore,
all the errors in grammar, spelling and continuity in recent
submissions have been my own.

Thanks also for those of you who have continued to read this
story and have responded to what you've read.  I am open to
receive comments and answer questions about the story.  If
you see areas for improvement, feel free to respond.

DISCLAIMER: Remember that male2male sex covers a lot of
ground.  It takes some people longer than others to develop
their sexual appetites.  This is especially true about the
people described in this continuing story.

There may even be a few of you who are too young or live in
an area where reading something that is even the slightest
bit erotic is not legal.  I will not share responsibility if
reading these chapters gets you into trouble with members of
your family (particularly with parents) or with the legal
authorities.

This story belongs to me and as such is copyrighted
according to the terms laid down by Nifty.

Any similarity with persons living or not is purely
coincidental.

My grandsons have asked permission to tell their part of
this series.  I have to admit by letting them do so has been
an eye opener for both JJ and me.  However I will remain the
conduit for comments.

I hope you enjoy.  Feel free to send comments to me at
guyjameson@hotmail.com

This posting is written by the eldest of the boys-Joe, with
some help from his brother, Jason.


                   THE SONS OF JJ JAMESON
            CHAPTER 11: JOE AND JASON: BEGINNINGS

     I was seven years old when Mom left us.  She didn't die
or divorce my Dad; she just left.  I don't know why she
left, she just did.  I remember that one night she and my
Dad had a big fight.  She was yelling at Dad and said some
really terrible things.  Mom yelled words that none of us
were allowed to use.
     I don't remember a lot about Mom, but I do remember she
yelled at Dad a lot.  She didn't seem to be very happy most
of the time.  Sometimes I didn't think she liked me very
much.  She didn't seem to like my little brothers much
either, for that matter.  We never could do anything the way
she wanted it done.  She'd get mad at us, yell some and then
start to cry.
     On the night she and Dad had that big fight, Dad took
her in the car, leaving my three brothers and me with a
neighbor lady named Mrs. Storm.  I liked Mrs. Storm, she
often kept us when Mom had something to do and Dad was at
work.  She had a son, Jerry, who was about my age. They
lived just down the street from us in a house that wasn't
quite as big as ours but it always seemed to be a happy
house. When Dad was gone to work and we boys were left alone
with Mom, our house never seemed to be happy.  Mrs. Storm's
house wasn't as clean as my Mom would have liked either, but
then Mom had a woman who would come to the house every week
just to clean.  Mrs. Storm didn't have that.  Mrs. Storm
only had one son too.  Maybe it was too many sons that made
Mom unhappy.
     Any way, the night of the big fight, Dad took Mom to
the hospital, Mrs. Storm told us it  was because she was going to
have another baby.  Mrs. Storm said Mom might like to have a
little girl this time.  Boys make too much noise and are
messier than girls.  Moms like to have girls around as well
as little boys.  I don't know about any of that because Mom
never came back.  Dad came home that night, picked us up
from Mrs. Storm and told my brothers and me that we had a
new brother.  His name was David and he was just as pretty
as we were when we were born.
     A couple of days later Dad went to the hospital again
and brought David home.  Mom didn't come with him.  Dad said
Mom had left the hospital by herself and seemed to have
disappeared.  No one knew where she went or why she left.
She was just gone.  Jason, the second son, and I cried a lot
because Mom was gone but when we realized that she wasn't
coming back, we quit crying.  We still had Dad and that
would be enough.
     I remember the police coming to the house several times
to ask Dad questions about Mom; where she might have gone;
who were her friends; did she and Dad have a lot of
fights-that sort of thing.  Once or twice the police
searched through the house for any clues Mom might have
left.
     They searched our room too, moving the furniture all
around and even looking under the carpet.  They also
searched the back yard.  Of course, at the age of seven I
had no idea what they were doing, but now I realize they
must have thought that Dad had murdered Mom and had buried
her somewhere on the property.
     Eventually the police quit coming around and not much
was said about Mom anymore.  One good thing happened then,
though.  Granddad came back to live with us.
     I didn't know much about Granddad at that time, he
hadn't been around a lot since Grandmother died, but I
remember that he often took care of Jason and me when Mom
and Dad were both out of the house or when Mom had a new
baby. He seemed to love his grandsons and was always willing
to tell us stories when we went to bed.  When we were sick
or had an accident of some sort, it was usually Granddad who
took care of us.  Granddad often came to visit us after he
moved away.  Now he was here to stay to help Dad raise five
sons.
     Once I asked Dad if Granddad was going to be our
mother.  He said, "Joe, men can't be mothers but Granddad is
going to help me take care of you just like Mom did."

     Life began to settle into the regular family routine,
except we had two dads instead of a mother and dad.
Granddad fixed our meals, got us to school, washed our
clothes and generally did everything moms usually do.  We no
longer had the cleaning woman and the house was no longer
"neat as a pin" but we were happy.  We had a happy house.
Granddad and Dad never yelled at each other.  Whenever there
was a problem, they talked to each other calmly and came to
a decision that seemed best for everyone concerned.
     House rules also began to change.  Mom used to get
really mad at Dad if he came into any part of the house
except their bedroom or the bathroom without being fully
dressed.  Now sometimes we'd see Dad or Granddad walk from a
bedroom to the bathroom naked or they'd even come into the
family room only partly dressed.  They didn't even get upset
if my brothers or I suddenly appeared in only our underwear
or even totally undressed.  It was just no big deal anymore.
     Now we could also have our friends come to our house.
Mom thought her own boys made enough noise and mess without
having the neighbor kids trooping in for a glass of water or
juice or coming to play in our room.
	With granddad were still expected to always clean up after
ourselves but if things weren't left absolutely spotless, it
was no big deal either.  My friends began to enjoy coming to our
house to play.  I was even allowed to have a couple of friends
come over for pizza and a sleep over.  That had never happened
with Mom around.
     Dad converted the basement of our house into a
bedroom for all the boys.  Dad always called it the
dormitory, rather than our bedroom because it had its own
bathroom and I guess we were as neat as college boys Dad had
known.  I don't know how many boys Dad had planned to have
there, but with five growing sons the room began to feel
pretty crowded.

	When I was eleven, I noticed changes beginning to
happen to my body that Dad had told me about.  My dick
began to get bigger and very soon if I played with myself
for very long I would have sperm come out of it.  My younger
brothers teased me but I was actually pretty proud of
myself.  I showed them what I could do as often as I could.
Soon after that discovery, hair began to grow around my
dick.  Because I was maturing and Jason wouldn't be far
behind and the "dormitory" was becoming crowded, Dad and Guy
decided to build a room for the two of us in the attic.

	(I need to explain that Guy was our grandfather.  For
some reason, Ron, the third brother, called Granddad "Guy".
Maybe it was because he couldn't say Granddad.  Dad thought
the name was "cute" and Granddad never seemed to mind what
he was called as long as it wasn't something like Papaw or
PeePee.  After a while, even Dad quit calling him Frank,
which was his real name. Guy became the name we all used.)

	Dad and Guy worked on the new room for several months.
Actually Guy worked on it more than Dad did because Dad
could only help in the evenings and on weekends.  Since my
brothers and I were at school during the day, Guy had more
time.  I think Guy was also a little more talented with a
hammer.  Sometimes we'd come home and other men would be
working on the room, putting the finishing touches on his
work, Guy would explain.  The new room was really big, at
least as big as the dormitory.  It had its own bathroom,
closets, built in cabinets to store our clothes, and trunks
to store our private stuff.  Every day when Jason and I came
home we'd run upstairs to see what else had happened to our
room.
     Dad and Guy christened our space the Upper Room.  I
didn't know what the name meant, but it seemed appropriate.
     Finally the big day came and the whole family pitched
in to help us move our stuff.  Even David, who was only
four, tried to help.  He couldn't carry very much up the
stairs but he was pretty good at packing boxes full of stuff
to be moved.  Jason and I were very excited to have our own
place.

     In the dormitory we'd had two sets of bunk beds that
could be made into four twin beds.  When David was two years
old, he joined the other four of us and needed a bed.  Dad
bought a queen sized bed and I "inherited" his old double.
The double bed came in handy for all of us.  When there was
a bad storm, all five of us would cuddle on the big bed.
     That was something else that changed with Guy.  Mom
would never have permitted us to sleep in the same bed.  I
wasn't even allowed to get in bet with Dad and her during
storms.  I had to be brave and a little man.  Bad dreams and
storms were not things I could allow to frighten me.
     The double bed and one of the twin beds were moved into
the Upper Room.  Jase and I were too excited to go to sleep
at first and then there was the quiet.  A room with five
boys, even when they are asleep sounds different from a room
with only two.  Jason needed some company and though I
wouldn't admit it, so did I.  Jason asked if he could sleep
with me-just for the first night in our new digs.
     	"Sure, Jase," I said.  "But remember I may have to jack
off before I can go to sleep.  Will that be OK with you?"
     I'd jacked off plenty of times with the brothers in the
room.  They were quite accustomed to seeing me do it and if
one or more of them was awake, I'd hear them laughing at me
as I'd shoot my cream.  As I've intimated, things in our
household had become a lot more natural, relaxed and happy.
     Jason climbed into bed and cuddled against my body.
     "JOE, you're naked!"
     "Yeah? So what?  Dad and Guy sleep naked. I've seen
them come out of their rooms plenty of times naked as jay
birds.  Now that we're in our own room and are growing up, I
decided I'd sleep naked too.
     "Then, hell," Jason said.  "There's no reason why I
can't too."
     Jason pulled off his briefs and tossed them on the
floor before cuddling his naked body against mine.  Even
though I'd jacked off lots of times with an audience, I'd
never done it with one of my brothers in bed with me.  But I
also thought I couldn't get to sleep at night unless I
relieved myself.
     I lay on the bed with Jason cuddled against me, just
staring at the ceiling, thinking.  When I thought Jason was
asleep I began to slowly stroke myself.  I became so
engrossed in pleasuring myself I didn't notice when Jason's
breathing became more rapid.  Nor did I feel his hard little
dick begin to rub against my thigh.  It didn't take long for
me to climax, shoot a healthy load of cum onto my tummy.
Hell, I'm only a few months shy of being twelve.  What
twelve-year-old is able to or even wants to prolong his
orgasm any longer than necessary.  With me, it was jack it
off and cum just as fast as possible.
     It was only then that I noticed Jason was awake.
     "Hey, bro.  Sorry about that I thought you were
asleep."
     "Its OK, Joe.  I knew you were going to do that.  I've
seen you jack off almost every night for almost a year.  I
can hardly wait until I'm able to shoot cum out of my dick.
Now all I can do is jack off or rub it against the bed until
I really feel good."
     "Yeah, I remember when that was all I did too.  Even
that felt good though, doesn't it?"
     "Yeah.  Tonight I used your leg.  Is that OK?"
     "Sure, I guess so.  But when you start to cum, you'll
have to do something else.  I don't want your stuff all over
me.  Just cleaning myself is a bore."
     I had reached over to my night table to get a tissue to
soak up the cum on my stomach.
     "Joe, let me do that, please?"
     "What for? Little brother, do you want to play with my
cream?" I asked very amused at the idea.
     "Yes."
     Jason wiped up my stuff without taking the tissue.  He
just used his bare hand.  He lifted his cum covered hand to
his nostrils and sniffed.
     "Have you ever smelled this stuff, Joe?" he asked.
     "NO.  Man that is too weird."
     "No it isn't.  Here sniff."
     He stuck his hand under my nose but missed in the dark
and got some of it on my lips.
     "God, man.  What did you do?  I have my cum on my
lips."  I punched him on his arm, causing him to grab me and
get more of my cum on my hand.
     "Sorry Joe," he laughed.  "What are you sore about?
It's just stuff from your body.  Here I'll clean your lips
too."
     Jason bent over me and kissed my lips where he had
smeared my cream.  He used his tongue to lick it off of me.
The he stuck his fingers in his mouth and cleaned more of my
load off his hand.
     "MMMm. Tasty."
     Then my little brother thoroughly surprised me by
bending over and licking the rest of the cum, which had
begun to run down my side, off my belly.  I pushed him away.
     "Man you can't do that kind of stuff.  It's not clean."
     "Joe why isn't it clean?  It's what made us remember.
Besides it tastes good."
     "Man, that is so GAY!"
     "It may be, Joe.  But I did it and I'm glad.  If you
can't handle it then I'll sleep in my own bed."
     There was a pause as I began to think over what Jason had
done.  He began to cry because he had made me angry.  My
brothers really loved me and hated it when I'd get angry with
them, regardless of the reason.
     "It's OK, Jase.  I was just surprised is all.  I've
never even thought to taste this stuff.  It seems to be too
much like piss."
     "Well it's not like piss at all.  It just comes from
the same place.  I asked Guy about it the first time we
heard you losing it.  He explained the difference between
the two."
     "How long did it take him to explain that?" I said
with a good deal of mockery in my voice.
     Guy was well known for giving complete, usually very
long, answers to any of our questions.  He always gave us
more information than was wanted.  I guess that's one reason
we loved him so.
     "He even said you could drink your own piss if you ran
out of water, like on the desert.  But you can only drink it
three times before it becomes too salty and it'll make you
sick.  Tasting a little cum isn't anything close to being
the same as drinking piss."
     "Sheeeit, Jase.  That is disgusting."
     "No cum tastes real good, big brother."
     "Fuck it, we need to go to sleep.  Guy'll be up here
bright and early to get us to Church on time."
     "Good night, Joe."
     My little brother cuddled up closer to me and kissed me
on the cheek. "Good night, Jason."
     As I fell asleep, I thought, `It's nice having Jason
sleep in my bed.'

     The next night I asked Jason if he'd like to sleep with
me again.
     "Are you going to jack off again if I do?"
     "I'll jack off even if you don't.  But I like having
you in bed with me.  You're nice and warm."
     "OK.  Sure, I like it too."
     It would be a long time before either of us slept alone
again.

     Jason and I had lived in the Upper Room for over a
week.  I started to go to the kitchen for something-maybe
juice or a glass of water. I don't remember now.  But I
heard Dad and Guy talking as they were doing up the dishes.
     "I found something interesting in the Upper Room today
when I was doing laundry," said Guy.
     "Oh?"
     "Yes, the sheets on Jason's bed were as clean as they
were a week ago.  I also discovered there were no cum soaked
tissues in the waste can.  And there was no underwear in
their laundry bags."
     "Oh?  What do you think that means . . . You don't
think they're . . ."
     "I don't know what they're doing but Jason is sleeping
in Joe's bed every night and somehow Joe is cleaning up the
results of his nightly jack off sessions without the use of
tissue, sheets or wash cloths.  I think they are also free-
balling.  It doesn't mean they are . . ."
     "Right, but what does it mean?"
     "I think it means they need to start doing their own
laundry," Guy said with a chuckle.
     Dad laughed along with him.  "You don't suppose Joe is
. . . or that Jason is . . .?"
     "Hmmm, could be."

     I wasn't sure what conclusions they were drawing by
Guy's discoveries that day but I decided Guy was right about
one thing.  It was time we started doing our own laundry and
taking out our own trash.  We might even need to do the
vacuuming in our room.