Date: Mon, 31 Jan 2000 11:16:11 CST
From: Tim Foure <timfoure@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Summer of My 15th Year" 15 (adult-youth) (incest)

The Summer of My Fifteenth Year, Chapter 15

by Tim Foure

copyright c 2000

If you are under 18 or not permitted access to homosexual erotica where you
live, then you should not read this story. The other usual disclaimers too.
___________

Chapter 15

Toward the end of that summer, Ted began taking me with him when he mowed.
He was about to leave for college and wanted to begin turning the business
over to me. As with everything having to do with money, he had planned it
out carefully. The first time I went with him to service his customers, he
mowed and I trimmed. He introduced me to everyone who was at home while we
were mowing because, as he told me, "I want them to see you actually
cuttin' the grass. Do the trimmin'. They'll remember you makin' the yard
look neat." He also took me when he went to collect his pay because he
wanted to introduce me to the customers who hadn't been at home as
well. One way or another, I met them all during that week.

The two I paid particular attention to were the ones Ted had told me about
before we made the rounds that first time. When we were leaving the yard we
had just finished, Ted told me, "Pull off your shirt. The next one is
Mr. Morris." He took his own shirt off as well.

As I got ready to trim Mr. Morris's yard and Ted started the mower, I saw
someone watching us from the window. Ted and I separated to work on
different parts of the yard because he felt it decreased the chance that
one of us would be hit by a stone or other object turned into a projectile
by our equipment. I noticed that the person watching from the window moved
from window to window as I moved around the house, clearly following my
movements rather then Ted's. Since I had expected this from what Ted had
told me, I wasn't concerned as I might have been that he was checking to
see how good a job I was doing. I remembered Ted saying that I should let
him have a peek up my shorts, and I tried to do that by bending over from
time to time. I tried various positions, but none seemed to give a view of
anything besides the stretched nylon of the shorts.

When we finished, the dark form in the window changed into a person with
features as Mr.  Morris opened the door and invited us in for a soda. He
turned out to be a small man with thin hair, rimless old-fashioned-looking
glasses, and a pleasant enough smile. He was neither attractive nor ugly,
but just ordinary looking. He tried to keep a conversation going, primarily
with me, but he always ended up back on the subject of Ted's imminent
departure for college.

As we moved to the next yard, Ted told me, "That's the first time he gave
me a soda this year.  You're not gonna have any trouble signin' him up
again next year."

Later that week we did Mrs. Gaw's yard. She started off as Ted had warned
me she would. When we pulled up in her driveway and began to unload the
mower, she came outside. Ted introduced me and explained that I would be
working with him until he left for college, at which time I would take over
the mowing completely.

Mrs. Gaw said, "I have a grandson just the same age as you. It'll be just
like having him for a visit when I see you out here cutting the grass."

Ted and I exchanged looks, knowing where she was headed. But she surprised
us that day by paying without a discussion when we finished. In fact, she
remarked that Ted would probably need the money for college, not true but a
nice idea nevertheless. However, the first time I went alone, she pulled
out the heavy artillery, telling me that she was a widow and so on while
very slowly writing me a check. She never tried to argue me out of my pay,
but she did everything in her power to make me feel guilty for taking
it. When I told Ted about it, he said I needed to stand back inside my head
and watch her try to play on my guilt. He said if I did that, I would find
that rather than feel guilty, as I did the first time, I would begin to see
her ploy as very entertaining. As always, Ted was right.

At the end of the week when Ted did his books, we talked about money. He
told me he was taking me into the business as a partner, not as an
employee. When I tried to protest that I was satisfied with him being the
boss, he told me I was going to have to be my own boss in three weeks when
he left so I might as well get used to being on my own from the start. He
also explained that making me his partner solved lots of problems. For
instance, it seemed if you used someone else's lawnmower to cut their
grass, you became their employee, but if you used your own, you
didn't. This affected taxes, among other things.

I became depressed over his mention of his leaving for college as I always
did, but I was jerked out of my depression almost immediately when he
handed me a wad of bills and told me it was my half of the money we had
made that week after expenses were deducted. I marveled at the amount of
cash I was holding. I had never touched that much money at one time
before. The down side of making money was revealed to me next as Ted led me
through his books, showing me how to keep track of operating expenses and
how to complete the various tax forms made necessary by his success.

"If you cut one or two lawns, you can probably get away with not payin'
income tax and all on the money, but if you got a business goin' like this
one, there's no way they won't catch you if you don't pay," Ted told me as
an incentive to encourage me to understand what he was showing me.

The second week we exchanged roles, Ted trimming and me mowing. He also had
me collect the payment. That week we took care of the remaining
arrangements for my taking over the business.  We had the mower appraised
so I could buy it from him. It turned out the appraisal was higher than the
amount left in the depreciation schedule he had set up for it, so he told
me he would charge me the lower amount. I barely understood what he said,
but since it never occurred to me he would be other than fair to me, I
didn't ask any questions.

It was also necessary to find some place in town where the mower could be
stored. When Ted had begun mowing, we still lived in town, so he could
operate right from our house. When we moved to the dream house, he was old
enough to drive and could haul the mower back and forth every day. On the
other hand, I would be more than two years short of the minimum age for a
drivers license when he left for college. Ted suggested I ask Boomer's
parents if I could store it at their house, which was in town and more or
less centrally located. He also said I should rent space to store it in
rather than to ask it as a favor. In that way I could keep the arrangement
strictly on a business footing. In the end it was Ted who made that
arrangement since Boomer's parents were not willing to let me pay
them. When I couldn't see why it mattered, Ted pointed out to me that it
would be very easy to blur the line between what was a business obligation
and what was friendship, and that the result would likely be the end of my
friendship with Boomer.

Ted also set up a checking account for me, something which I had never
needed before, by using the money he had given me at the end of the
previous week. One night in bed we also discussed what I wanted to do with
the money I earned. Ted had already begun to have considerable success in
the stock market and offered to invest my money for me as well.  My
reaction was to give it all to him, but he wouldn't let me. He wanted me to
put a portion into a savings account as a safe investment.  "Just in case,"
he told me. But in fact the money he invested for me began to grow almost
immediately, and in my last year of mowing, the increase in value of my
stocks was greater than the income I made from the mowing itself.

The third week Ted went with me on about half the lawns but sent me to the
remainder on my own, and the fourth week, the last week before he left for
college, he did the same thing, letting me go alone to the half he had gone
to the week before and going with me to the rest. He said what he was doing
during the last two weeks would wean his customers off of him and let them
attach themselves to me. Since I had no problems during the rest of the
mowing year, he had clearly planned it correctly.

But arranging for me to take over his mowing business was only one of the
things Ted concerned himself with as he got closer to his departure. He
ordered me a gift to console myself with during his absence. It had been
nearly a year since we had stopped using the hand cream on a regular basis
to jerk each other off because we had switched to sucking. Our sucking
schedule had remained the same all through the previous school year, once a
day on weekdays and twice on Saturdays and Sundays. If he had a date on
Friday, we wouldn't do it at all, and if he had a date on Saturday, we
would do it once in the morning. We both made up for the lack of time on
school days to do each other in the mornings with solitary hand jobs in the
shower.  During the summer it was twice a day every day except Fridays and
Saturdays if he had a date, and then it was only once. Again, I made up for
any that I missed with a hand job. As the summer progressed, Ted had fewer
and fewer dates, so I used less and less hand cream. But I knew the day was
coming when I would have to begin relying on my own hand again for any sex
except that provided by the foursome.

The gift he gave me was a supply of personal lubricant. The very idea that
someone would manufacture a product which had no other purpose than to be
used to jerk off amazed me. It was wonderful stuff, very slippery,
long-lasting, water-based, non-staining, and pleasantly flavored.  Ted and
I laughed over it the night he gave it to me as we read that claim on the
label. We supposed they had made it with flavors for those occasions when
you were jerking off alone and someone arrived suddenly to replace your
hand with his mouth. He told me he had given me the lube because he didn't
intend for me to suffer any deprivation while he was away. He had gotten a
dozen large tubes, but he planned to take several with him when he left. He
promised me he would get me more when I went through all of that.

Phil delivered the lube, as he did the considerable number of other things
which came via UPS.  When he came with it, he found me beside the pool,
naked as usual. I didn't know what it was since it was addressed to Ted,
but the package was unusual in its complete lack of markings. Phil made a
joke when he gave it to me about things which came in plain brown-paper
wrappings which Ted had had to explain to me that night. But I had caught
the clue that it was a joke when Phil began to laugh, so I had laughed as
well. Ted and I laughed again when we put the joke together with the actual
contents of the package, which Phil couldn't have known about.

Before the delivery of the lubricant and after Phil had made a few
deliveries to us, I began to notice something different about the way the
previous UPS guy had made his deliveries and the way Phil did it. The
previous driver had pulled up into the driveway in front of the house and
rung the doorbell. Since Dad was generally oblivious to everything when he
was working, he never heard the bell. Some of the things being delivered
didn't require signatures, so the driver simply left them sitting against
the front door. However, when a package did require a signature, the
previous driver would walk around the porch to the window where Dad was
clearly visible and rap until he got Dad's attention and the necessary
signature. Dad hated this because he said it took him hours to get back to
where he had been in his mind.

Phil never did any of this. The second time he came when I was home, I was
in my bedroom, which overlooked the front of the house. I saw him park the
truck, get out, and start to walk along the driveway that led to the garage
at the back of the house. I rushed down the stairs and was just coming out
the kitchen door when Phil rounded the corner of the garage.

I said, "Hi!"

"Got a package needs a signature," Phil said, holding out an envelope.

I was naked, of course, and I watched Phil's eyes. I saw them flick down to
my crotch several times as we walked toward each other. Ted had told me to
watch for it the next time Phil saw me naked because, according to Ted, it
was impossible not to look at another guy's dick if you had the opportunity
to do so. Phil managed to do it very quickly, which was why I hadn't
noticed it the previous time.

"Dad's working. I'll sign it," I told him.

He handed me the gizmo for my signature and then we swapped, him giving me
the envelope.

I decided Phil was just as good looking as I had through the first
time. Now that I knew he looked at me, I was even less anxious for him to
leave. "Want something cold to drink before you go?" I asked.

Phil was already half turned away. "Can't, thanks. Got a truck full of
stuff people are waiting for.  Thanks, though." And he was gone.

If no signature was needed, Phil would leave the delivery by the kitchen
door, but if he had to have a signature, then he looked behind the house
and found me or, one time, Ted to sign for it. If neither Ted nor I was
behind the house, he rang the bell, but he never went around to Dad's
studio. I knew this because I had been in the shower one day when he had
come and I got out just in time to hear the bell. I ran down the stairs
still wet but with a towel around my waist. When I saw Phil walking away
from the door, I dropped the towel behind the door as I opened it and
called out to him. I was rewarded by several quick looks at my crotch as he
came back up the steps and I signed for the package.

I wondered what he did when Dad was home alone, so I asked Dad, but he told
me he had never even seen the new UPS guy.

I talked about it with Ted, who said, "He's hot for you, Sport."

That idea was too embarrassing to be entertained, so I dismissed it with,
"Yeah, right." After all, Phil was an adult, and a fairly handsome one. I
couldn't conceive of his having any interest in me.

After Ted left for college, it became clear that either Phil had uncanny
luck in finding me at home when he needed a signature or he came back until
he did find me there. It was something I thought about quite a bit as I
used the lube Ted had given me.

The night the lube came, Ted and I used it on each other. We opened two
different tubes which were supposed to have different flavors, and after we
had stroked each other for a while, we conducted a taste test. We had no
trouble sucking each other's dicks, but since neither of us could suck his
own dick, it was necessary to taste the lube on our own dicks by licking it
off of the finger of the other one. We agreed all that could really be said
was neither one had an unpleasant taste because there was no real
difference in the taste of the two tubes. In all other respects the lube
lived up to its advertising.

After we finished the taste test, Ted wiped his hand across my chest,
leaving a streak of lube that covered an area which included both
nipples. As he continued to move his hand around as if he was rubbing it
in, he rubbed my nipples quite a few times. They immediately stood up,
catching Ted's attention.

"Hey, Sport," he said, "lookee here. Your nipples are gettin' hard just
like a girl's."

I found being compared to a girl to be embarrassing and tried to turn away.
Oblivious to my embarrassment because he had never been embarrassed in his
life, Ted pulled me back around to face him and peered at my nipples. He
began rubbing both nipples in a circular pattern with the tips of his index
fingers.

"Howzzat feel?" he asked.

I was getting a chilling sensation from what he was doing that focused on
spot just above my asshole. I had never felt anything like it before.

"Good, I think. I can't tell for sure. It's different."

He brought his thumbs into play, rolling the hard tips of my nipples
between them and his index fingers.

"How 'bout that?"

"Feels the same, only more," I answered.

"How 'bout if I do this," he asked as he continued to rub one nipple but
moved his other hand to the head of my dick, rubbing it gently.

"Oh, wow!" I said. "That feels really good!"

In fact it felt as if the two sensations were merging into one.

"Lemme try one more thing," he said as he put pressure on my chest so I
would lie back on the bed. He continued to rub my nipple in the same way,
but he moved his other hand to my asshole, rubbing it with his finger. The
lube seemed to grow in volume miraculously to serve whatever need it was
put to, making the area around my asshole and the hole itself quite
slick. It then moved into my hole with Ted's finger, lubricating that
finger's entrance into my body as well.

I lurched when he touched my prostate, getting a jolt of pleasure that was
more intense than the feeling I was getting from his work on my nipple.

"Lemme get this coordinated, then tell me how it feels, ok?"

I just groaned. The rubbing of my nipple was making the feelings coming
from Ted's finger on my prostate more intense. I abandoned myself to the
sensations.

"Well?" Ted asked after a while.

"Oh, it feels great! I was just, like, feeling too good to talk," I said.

"Glad to hear it," Ted said with a funny smile. He pulled his finger out of
my asshole and went back to stroking my dick.

With the pleasant feelings I had been getting from Ted's work on my
prostate at the top of my mind, I decided to pay him back by rimming him. I
didn't tell him what I was doing. Instead, I just started wiggling around
him until I had my face in the right position. When I started licking his
asshole, he said, "Oh, yeah! I'm in the mood for that!"

He was lying on his side, bent in the middle. He put his foot on his other
leg to spread his cheeks and give me better access. I took full advantage
of it, continuing to lick his asshole and the surrounding skin and
beginning to jerk his dick slowly.

I had been at it for a few minutes when he suddenly said, "Here it comes!"

I hadn't expected him to cum so quickly because I had done what I was doing
a number of times before without bringing on an early orgasm, but
apparently the lube added a new dimension to the sensations I was causing
on his dick. He began to shoot right after he spoke.

When he was finished, I said, "Sorry. I was going to make it last."

"No problem, Sport. That lube's wicked stuff. It felt almost as good as you
sucking me when you were jerking my dick. I'll show you."

And show me he did, jerking my dick with one hand and sliding a finger of
his other hand into my asshole so he could rub my prostate. I came sooner
than I expected as well.

"Guess we'll have to learn how to use this stuff so we don't cum so fast,"
he said.

He grabbed up a tshirt to wipe off the lube, but it continued to spread. In
the end we had to shower to get it off and then to sleep in Ted's bed since
mine was covered with drying cum and lube which, while it didn't stain,
didn't ever seem to dry either. It was still tacky to the touch the next
morning.

"You're gonna need to be careful with that stuff," Ted told me. "Just use a
dab."

Which, of course, I did.

To be continued
_______________
Comments appreciated. Send them to TimFoure@hotmail.com. Flames ignored.