Date: Wed, 27 May 2015 17:56:56 +0000 (UTC)
From: kevin Donovan <letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Business of Pleasure, Chapter 2, Gay Male Incest

The following is a work of gay erotic fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person or situation would be entirely coincidental and wildly improbable.
In fact, the author has no clue in real life of what he is writing about.
The story does involve, it is to be hoped, vivid descriptions of sex acts
among adult males, including male relatives, who are unlikely to produce
deformed offspring as a result.  All characters are above the age for legal
consent to sexual activity, and all are eager participants.  Do not read
this if you are underage in your locality or if downloading homoerotic
material would be illegal.  This is masturbatory fantasy material, guys,
not to be attempted at home.  In real life, be faithfully monogamous, or
wrap it up!  And slide me an email to let me know someone is out there!
letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com

Don't forget those contributions to Nifty!


THE BUSINESS OF PLEASURE

By Kevin Donovan


CHAPTER TWO


"DEUCE"


	What Deuce had to tell his son took most of the afternoon and
involved layering many pieces of information Ditto had never had onto a
foundation of experience and family lore he had always known.


	It started quite a while back.  The family had occupied this land
and house since the Indians left it, unwillingly, in the 1830's.  One of
those Indians, actually, stayed behind as a great-great-great
grandmother. The original log home still existed, somewhere in the skeleton
of the expanded house. "Mansfield" had once been a prosperous farm, and it
was making money again, not a lot, under Deuce and Benji's careful
management.  Most of the farm land was leased out to others, and producing
income now. But in past years, there had been some hard times.  The family
was respected and locally well placed, politically and socially.  But that
didn't pay the bills.  After the War (THE War, the one Between the States),
and even more during Prohibition, the family took up bootlegging.  That not
only soured relations with the county's preachers, but it also called for
having "special relations" with the sheriff and others in law enforcement,
and it led the way into some small gambling operations.  One family
enterprise was the Redmont Hotel, right downtown. This, of course, was a
"secret" enterprise that everyone in town knew about, but would not
acknowledge out loud. "The Red" as it was called, or sometimes "The
Red-light," was a brothel.  Downstairs, it was essentially a gentlemen's
club, with private card games and low-key house gambling, cards, billiards,
and dice with a little roulette.  Pretty hostesses took their clients
upstairs for more exciting entertainments.  From the beginning, one could
get the company of a male companion in his bed, too, if he inquired
discreetly.  The dealers, bouncers, and bar-tenders were uniformly young,
hung, and handsome, and when off-duty downstairs, they worked even harder
upstairs to satisfy their patrons.


	The Red was a local institution, and its fame even spread to the
larger cities not so far away.  The town was served by two rail lines then,
and the "hotel" brought commerce into the County.  Since no one wanted to
cut off that flow—and many local citizens did not want to do without the
hotel's sevices--the Mansfields and local government worked hand in glove,
discretely, to keep it out of the news and off the radar screens of
higher-level law enforcement and do-gooder politicians.  Papa D, Deuce's
father and Ditto's grandfather, selected his own wife from among the girls:
Ditto's grandmother, Lucille, called "The General" by all who knew her, had
been one of the hotel's star attractions prior to her retirement to produce
babies for the boss.  Emmitt had been the manager there, plus turning the
occasional trick on the side in his younger days.


       In time, though, The Red began to run down some.  Downtowns were in
decline everywhere, as suburbs blossomed, and interstate highways drew
trade out of cities.  It was Papa D who decided to move the operation out
of downtown, update, and expand it.  He even got some urban renewal money
to refurbish The Red as an apartment building for "seniors," meaning the
retired whores of his father's generation, including some of the men.  It
still served that function.


	But the family farm was just half a mile from the interstate
highway exchange.  Papa D used some flat land on one side of the estate's
driveway to build The Kat Club, a bar and exotic dancing operation.  It was
the Age of Aquarius, equality for all—so he brought the rent boys out of
the hotel closet and gave them their own platform.  On Mondays, Wednesdays,
and Fridays, the bar was "the Tom Kat," and it featured male strippers.  On
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, it became the "Kit Kat," and it offered
nude female dancers.  The neon sign at the highway just lit up a bit
differently on the alternate nights—hot pink for the ladies and
chartreuse for the guys.


	To replace the hotel rooms, Papa D also established a "tourist
motel" on the other side of the driveway, and he called it "the Rosebud."
Once Ditto learned more about the activities of the Rosebud, he marveled at
Papa D's bravado in choosing the name.  The place had separate little
duplex cottages, in the old roadside tourist cabin manner, about a dozen of
them.  But oddly, the sign out front almost always read "No Vacancy."  It
stayed heavily booked, by the Kit Kat women on their dancing days off, and
by the Tom Kat men, on theirs—plus sometimes, for late-night trysts
after hours, or even quickies between acts.  A few of the dancers just
plain lived there, bringing their after-hours work home with them. In the
back section, hidden from view, there were half a dozen trailer homes as
well, occupied by some of the staff.  For all the dancers who wanted
to—and they all wanted to—served as sex workers on the side, using
The Rosebud as their brothel.  In fact, the bulk of their income actually
came from their whoring, though the stripping paid well, too, especially in
tips.  This was where Cooter's brother Ricky was working to pay for
college, and it was where Ditto's cousins Beth, Carl, and Jason worked,
too.  Of more immediate interest to Ditto, it was where his father Deuce
and his uncle Benji had worked for years—and it was where his mom met
the john she ran off to California with when he was five.


	That was shocking, but Deuce explained that the story he'd always
told the boys was true, too.  He and Margie were high school sweethearts.
He was the locally famous stud quarterback, and she was the voluptuous
cheerleader.  They were prom king and queen as juniors—-when she was
actually already pregnant, secretly, with Ditto.  They were sixteen.


	Abortion was legal and available, but the two kids did the
honorable thing.  They got married, had the baby, and finished school,
producing the other boys in rapid succession along the way.  The General
ordered that the attic of the family home be refitted for them, and they
moved in and lived there for about five years.  The colleges that had been
looking at Deuce for scholarships suddenly got interested elsewhere, and he
applied for classes at the local college.  But they needed jobs, better
jobs than burger-flipping, and they had turned eighteen.  They went to talk
to Papa D.


	Papa D had a younger brother, two nieces, and a nephew working for
him at the Kat already, and they were pulling down good money.  He had no
scruples over prostitution, witness his marriage to the General, and he
agreed to take the young couple on, if they wanted it and could deal with
having a sex object for a spouse.  They did, and they could.


	Both young people had enormous libidos.  That was what had gotten
them into trouble in the first place.  They worked on dance routines, and
they alternated nights at work.  Very quickly, they learned where the real
money was, over at the Rosebud.  So they enlisted young Benjie as resident
baby-sitter, and they began to take on clients for private entertainment
services.  Deuce found out right away that most of the interest in his body
came from other men, not from women.  He decided a hole is a hole, and
began to fuck them indiscriminately.  But he was always a top, though that
cost him some clients.


	Papa D, ever the entrepreneur, decided to expand into live sex
shows for discreet and favored—-and well-heeled-—clients.  The first
couple he approached for the assignment was his son and daughter-in-law.
Oddly, The General was opposed: she was the old fashioned
behind-closed-doors kind of hooker.  But the money would be fantastic.  The
sheriff was not interested in intervening, as long as taxes and campaign
contributions were paid, and no minors or dope was involved.  So Deuce and
Margie began to copulate for an audience of forty or so very appreciative
viewers once a month.  Before long, they worked with other partners as
well.  Then Margie began to appear sometimes with another woman, and Deuce
with another man.  They got offers to do porno flicks, and they did several
together, and with others, straight and bisexual.  Deuce had copies of all
their early work, in storage.  Sure, Ditto could watch them someday if he
wanted—-what the hell, everyone else did!  His parents were celebrities
at the top of their game at age twenty.


	Deuce admitted that, once they got so busy with their johns, their
sex lives together slacked off badly.  There were no more children born to
them after age nineteen, and that was only partly because Margie had gone
on The Pill.  Another part was that, more and more, Deuce was shagging men,
and only partly for the money.  He made his first all-male porn film
shortly before Margie bailed.


	Their split was probably inevitable, Deuce thought, but not because
they both worked having sex with other people.  In his opinion, it was more
likely because they both discovered how very much he enjoyed having sex
with other men.


	So Margie ran off to California with some guy, and Deuce filed for
divorce.  Margie didn't get much out of it, financially.  She was just
happy that Deuce got the boys, and the cost of raising them.  Her new beau
was well-heeled, and she still had great earning potential herself.  Deuce
had gotten a handful of phone calls from her, out of the blue, over the
years, but at present, he had no clue where she was or what she was doing.
She was no longer making porn films—but oddly enough, into his thirties,
he still was!


	The General was not interested in raising more rowdy, randy boys,
having brought up four of her own.  She got Emmitt to move in to care for
Deuce's kids, and Deuce was free to build his career as a famous porn star,
just filling in at the Kat as a head-line act.  He was away a lot, not only
filming, but also hustling for very wealthy, discriminating, and often
famous clients.  With them, he traveled the world.  Yet Ditto never felt
himself abandoned by his dad.  There were also blocks of time when Deuce
was at home, and then he was always very attentive to the boys and totally
involved in their lives.  It was more like having a much older brother
mostly away at college than having a father-figure, though. In warmer
weather, the men-folk spent much of their time at their "camp," actually a
rustic lodge, on the river, and many of Ditto's happiest childhood memories
were of that place.


	The farm property was about 2,000 acres, and it ran from the river,
a mile from the house, which was great for recreation but not commercially
navigable, to the state highway.  At one time, the old road ran right past
the front door, but when the state built the new road over the hill from
the house, they took a strip of Mansfield land, but traded off the old road
right of way for it.  That gave the estate a half-mile-long driveway over
the hill, and made it much more private.


	The farm house itself was a traditional "tee" shaped building,
white-painted clapboard, with formal rooms in the front "head" of the T and
more family-oriented rooms down the "stem" of the T toward the back.  On
the front, a two-level porch ran across just the middle half of the house.
Its square wooden columns were functional rather than ostentatious, but
gave the place a stately dignity.  A broad entry foyer cut the wing in
half, with the men's parlor and game room on the left and the ladies'
parlor and music room (pretty neglected in recent decades) on the right.
Another hallway swept across the back side of the front wing, with stairs
at one end and an added-on bathroom at the other.  The "stem" of the T
held, on the left, kitchen and pantries, and on the right, the dining room;
across the back, a large, added-on family room, and back stairway.


	On the second level, across the front were originally four
bedrooms, with an upper foyer in the middle.  Papa D had enclosed the foyer
to make two large bathrooms, and he had combined each pair of bedrooms into
two-room suites, which were occupied by Deuce and Benji (left side) and
Ditto (right side).  Down the leg of the T ran a center hallway, with two
bedrooms and a bathroom on each side.  They were (left side) the late
Emmett's domain, and (right) fifteen-year-old Pooch's.  The attic housed
the Twins, Parker and Peyton, just turned seventeen.


       So while Deuce developed his porn career, Emmitt and Benji, doting
attendants, carried on at home, along with the grandparents, at least for a
while.


	Papa D and the General were semi-retired, and they loved to travel.
From one trip to Europe, they did not return.  Their plane crashed into the
Mediterranean.  Fortunately, Papa D had prepared well for such
possibilities: there was a considerable sum of life insurance on both of
them; the airline paid a huge settlement; and the couple's wills were
up-to-date and quite specific.  Eldest son Carl got the auto dealership in
town; second son Willie got the hardware and feed store and the propane
supply business; Deuce got the sex businesses (the Kats, the Redmont, and
the Rosebud); and Benjie got the house, farm, and all their furnishings,
upon reaching his majority. He was just seventeen at the time.  His brother
Deuce was given his guardianship for the few months remaining until his
birthday.  So Deuce and his family never moved out of the house.


	By this time, the tale was well into Ditto's active memory, but he
hadn't known that Benji actually owned the house he lived in.  After Margie
left and Emmett arrived, he recalled that Deuce moved him down to one of
the bedrooms opposite Emmett's, and the baby boy, Pooch to the other, while
he and the twins, Parker and Peyton, continued to share the attic.  Benji,
at that time, had the front suite that Ditto now occupied.  But after the
departure of the Grands, Deuce moved down and took possession of the Master
Suite.  There was a period of time, Ditto could not remember how long, when
Benji's bed seemed to be slept in only when Deuce was out of town.  And
then, at some point, Benji just moved in with Deuce, and that was that.
But around that time, Benji also went missing much of the time, just as
Deuce did: he had taken up working for his brother at the club and the
brothel.  He started appearing as Deuce's partner in wildly popular sex
performances.And he began a porn filming career he had only just recently
begun to back away from.  He still had favorite clients he visited for
sexcapades and occasional trips.  According to Deuce, though, Benji never
spent more than a quarter of his earnings, and now he had enough squirreled
away never to need to work again.  Deuce's finances were similar, but
additionally augmented by the profits from his other businesses: he was a
wealthy man.  And none of that even counted their share of the insurance
and liability settlement.


	Deuce opened up for the first time about how he came to share his
brother's bed.


	"He was so sweet," Deuce reminisced.  "He actually came to me after
Margie left and told me he was willing to take her place.  But he was
fifteen!  I'm a lot of things, Ditto, but I am not a child molester!
That's part of why we're waiting til now to have this talk.  But truth is,
I'm not attracted to kids at all, even teens.  I go for a man!  So Benji
and I had a very tender, very loving relationship, but it was not overtly
sexual, not until he got some hair on his chest."


	"Which he promptly shaved off," commented Ditto, laughing.


	"Well, yeah.  He likes the sleek look.  And, he likes the bottom
role, as I think you know.  But he's not fem, not in the least.  So we're
ideal together."


	Ditto well knew his uncle could hunt and fish and chop wood with
the best of them, and his horsemanship was proved in a cabinet-full of
trophies downstairs.  He'd been a prized tight end on the high school
football team in his own day, before he became an equally prized tight end
at the Kat, the Rose-bud, and the porn-idol circuit.


	"When did Benji go to work?" he asked innocently.


	"Ah, that was a day to remember," Deuce sighed.  "A day men still
brag about being part of even now.  It was Benji's eighteenth birthday.  We
offered it by private subscription, by word of mouth.  No one we asked
turned it down.  In the end, we had to split it into two shows, a midnight
and a two a.m., the first time we ever did that.  And it was standing room
only in both."


	"You did a show?"


	Deuce nodded, coyly.  "We're a show family, Dit, that's the norm
for us.  I bred him for the first and second time in front of a live, and
very appreciative audience.  Seriously—-I had never had penetrative sex
with him before that.  I'm telling you, man, people still talk about it.
It was hot!"


	"Will you tell me about it?"


	A devilish light gleamed in Deuce's eye.  "Better yet, I'll let you
watch, Stud.  We have it on film.  Well, now, it's transferred to DVD."


	This was astounding news.  At some point, presumably soon, Ditto
would have the opportunity, for his viewing pleasure, to watch his father
have sex with his mother and then to de-flower his uncle Benji.  How many
guys get to do that?  Did he even want to?


	Yes, he decided, weird as it might seem, he did.  Getting to see
his Dad and mom, and then his uncle perform when they were his own age
would be well worth any yuk factor, particularly since he hardly even knew
his mom and wasn't sexually interested in women anyway—a tid-bit his
father did not, in fact, yet know. Besides, his dad and Benji were both
seriously hot-looking men.


	"Cooter told me that he wants to go to work at the Kat, and the
Rosebud, like Ricky did, when he turns eighteen in a month."


	"Great.  I'll be glad to have him.  As handsome and as popular as
Ricky is, Cooter is already hotter, and in a year, he'll be a real star and
a stud.  Tell him to come and talk to me soon, OK?  I take it he's
primarily a top?"


	"Yeah, primarily.  I'll tell him.  He'll be really excited.  He has
big hopes to make a lot of money, like he says Ricky has.  And Deuce, I
want to go to work there, too, soon as I have my birthday in a couple of
weeks."


	Deuce missed just one beat.  "You sure?  You really want to, not
just because Benji and I do, and not because Cooter does, but something you
actually want to do?  Do you have any idea what it would be like, having
sex with strangers for money?  Often, old, not-so-attractive ones?  No, how
could you.  Nobody could know in advance, you just have to try it.  Well,
Ditto, have you and Cooter at least been having sex?"


	Ditto nodded, sheepishly.


	"Anal?  Both ways?"


	He nodded again, eyes downcast.


	"Well, then."  Deuce paused.  "Who else?"


	"Me, nobody.  Cooter, I think maybe Ricky, but I'm not sure."


	Deuce looked appraisingly at his naked son, whose substantial organ
was drifting toward erection during this revealing exchange.  He smiled.


	"I'm not as surprised as you think about this."


	Ditto looked up, eyebrows raised in question.


	"No, Coach Anderson told me he saw you two going at it in the
locker room after you thought everyone had left a few weeks ago."


	"Fuck.  He didn't say a word to us.  Why would he tell you?"


	"Don't forget, he was my coach too, not that long ago.  Actually,
he said watching you two was like seeing Apollo and Eros going at it-—or
me and Benji, "same thing', he said.  A real connoisseur of prime
man-flesh, that one."  Deuce laughed.  "If you're going to join my staff,
you may as well know—-Coach is a regular at the Kat, and he's been a
regular in my cabin at the Rosebud, too, from the beginning.  There's lots
of guys around like that.  Might as well tell you—Cooter and Ricky's dad
is one, too."


	"Worked for you?"  Cooter's dad was about fifty, not a troll, but
not buff, either.


	"No, client.  Not of Ricky, though-—of Benji, mostly."


	"Shit.  I can see why you haven't told me this stuff before.  I
don't' know if I even really want to know it.  I guess I just need to, like
it or not.  Does Cooter know this?"


	"Not likely.  He doesn't need to, does he?  Let's leave it with the
family, OK?"


	Ditto nodded.  "What else?"


	"Well, there's this: I break in all the new boys and teach them the
trade, personally.  You and Cooter will be no exceptions.  Just so you'll
know.


	"But for you two, I have in mind a special introduction.  I'd like
to take your cherry, officially, on your actual birthday.  I want it to be
as authentic as possible.  It will really be your birthday, and it will
really be our first time together, and it will really be your professional
debut.  Guys will eat it up.  We'll have to do two shows, just like when
Benji came in.  Afterward, you can take a handful of select clients at
triple price.  Guys for whom "barely legal" is worth a premium.  And there
are some who would pay nearly anything to do you-—my son, and the stud
quarterback and all."


	"I won't be very experienced or professional, and I won't have had
your training, will I?


	"No, that will be the beauty of it.  Same for Cooter a bit later,
except I won't do him on stage.  You want to, or should we let Ricky have
the honor?"


      "Well, I want to, but I think you should let Ricky.  They'd sell more
tickets."


      "Really?  Don't sell yourself short, you are going to be a huge draw.
Ricky is nowhere near as sexy as you are, Dit.  But the brother thing, that
will make up for a lot of it.  O. K., we'll go with Ricky.  I'm telling
you, guys are crazy about that sort of thing. Those two will be a sensation
together.  All of us will make a ton of money that night.  You up for it?"


	Ditto's fully erect cock spoke for him, but he shrugged anyway, and
said, "Sure.  If I'm going to go to work, might as well go in with a real
bang."


	Deuce was grinning now, partly at Ditto's woody, and partly
anticipating the sensational upcoming events.  "Afterward, Dit, we'll still
have our training together, OK?  We'll spend that whole weekend in bed
together, just you and me-—well, I bring in Benji for some of it,
because I don't like being on bottom, and he does.  I'll put you through
the wringer, give you a real hard ride.  But once I'm through, you'll be
ready for whatever comes your way, understood?"


	Ditto's eagerness showed, then, in that vigorous nod.


	"I have another trip this week, Dit.  Going to Rio with a long-time
client, probably his last time.  He isn't well.  Meanwhile, Benji will get
all your paperwork done for the Club, for you and Cooter, too, and he'll
teach you how to groom your body, though you're eye candy enough already.


	"You can go on `practicing' with Cooter, O.K., just nobody else.
From now on, Stud, you don't give it away, you sell it.  And this talk
we've had, it's just for you, not for your brothers.  When I get back from
Rio, send Cooter in to see me, and I'll fill him in myself on what he needs
to know.  Understood?"


	Ditto nodded, smiling.  He held out his hand for Deuce to shake,
but then Deuce pulled him in for a man-to-man hug.  A new era for the two
men was launched.