Date: Fri, 29 May 2015 13:43:21 +0000 (UTC) From: kevin Donovan <letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com> Subject: business of pleasure chapter four 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 Have you sent in your contribution to Nifty yet? Don't put it off! THE BUSINESS OF PLEASURE By Kevin Donovan CHAPTER FOUR "TOM KAT" "One thing about it, seeing that video makes it a hell of a lot easier for me to talk to my dad about all this. I've been kind of envious of you, well about a lot of things, honestly, but about the fact that you can talk to your dad about anything, and he never gets all preachy on you or tells you not to be that way. Now that I know Dad was there that night, and getting in on with Coach, I know if he does say anything to me, it just won't have any impact. I mean, who is he to judge?" "Cooter, do you even know he would do that? Doesn't he know about Ricky?" "Well, yeah, I guess, and he never says anything. I know he's real glad Ricky has that kind of income so young, and can pay his own expenses and all. I guess I just thought he `d be different with me—-first, because I've always been so athletic and into guy stuff and all, so I figured he'd never suspect with me. Also, I thought it might freak him out if both his sons turned out to be gay." "Whoa, Dude. You mean HIM and both of his sons. And if he likes that kind of entertainment, don't you think he might be kind of proud that Ricky—-and now you—-have the looks to get that kind of job? Don't' forget, Ricky was always athletic, too. And how about Coach? Can you get any more athletic than that? Also-—Dude did you just tell me you are gay?" Ditto grinned at the corner Cooter had painted himself into. Cooter sputtered with confusion, not knowing how to save the situation. He finally opted for the truth with his best friend. "Fuck. You know what I mean. Man, we have hard down, deep-dick, ass-fuckin' gay sex together, Dude. What do you think that means? Yeah, fucker, I'm gay, what of it? I fuck your ass, don't I?" He bristled, ready for an argument he was prepared to win. Ditto laughed. "Chill, Coot. I'm just fucking with you. I'm gay, too, through and through. I was just faking with those perky-tit cheerleaders we fucked. I'm hot for cock, just like you are, yeah, especially YOUR cock. It's just, we've never actually said it before, you know. Let's put that shit down and just be honest with one another, OK? And you with your dad, too—-no other way to deal with it, but openly." "Easy for you to say. But shit, easier for me, too, now I know he's into dick, too. OK, deal." So Cooter, when he finally went home the day before graduation, did have that heart-to-heart with his father, and without even sharing what he knew about the old man, found that his dad was not at all judgmental, but happy to profess his love for his son no matter what Cooter's sexuality turned out to be. "If your mother had lived, this would have killed her," he declared, "She wanted grandchildren, and a daughter-in-law. But don't worry about me, Son, I accepted Ricky for who he is, and I'll do the same for you. And you couldn't come up with a better friend or partner, or whatever he turns out to be, than Ditto Mansfield. And Deuce has been a good boss to Ricky, and I know he will be to you, too. He's a good man, and I trust him. If this is what you want to do, then I'm with you." The guy even got a little misty-eyed at the end. He gave Cooter a big, bearish hug, not at all his usual way of behaving. And so, Friday, the eve of Ditto's eighteenth birthday arrived. The younger boys still had to go to school that day, leaving Benji and Ditto free to work on the final grooming of Ditto's body, with Cooter as anxious assistant. Both Ditto and Cooter had spent much of the previous few days sunning carefully, to produce maximum bronzing and avoid burning, at poolside, and they were pleased with the sun-drenched effect on Ditto's smooth, tanable skin. Benji worked on shaping the hair patterns carefully so that Ditto looked to be old enough to get fucked, yet young, innocent, and delectable at the same time. When he was finished, Cooter just shook his head admiringly. "Those guys are going to want to eat you with a spoon, Man." "Take a break now, while I get dinner done," said Benji. "Can I lick him all over?" asked Cooter. Benji must have been a little surprised at this unfamiliar directness, but he just smiled and shook his head. "No, Cooter, he has to stay fresh AND HORNY for tonight. Keep your mouth, hands, and all other parts, off." So the two took a two-hour nap before dinner, which they greatly appreciated later, as the night unwound. Dinner was mostly the usual Mansfield family birthday dinner, transferred to the evening before the actual birthday, because Ditto would be sleeping all the day following and working again that night. Benji presented a gourmet meal of the honoree's favorites, in this case, a small steak, lobster tail, baked potato, and salad, with a gorgeous cake made by Benji. But there was one difference from the usual. Deuce actually made an announcement, after the cake, to the younger boys. Knowing it would not be possible for Ditto to disappear most nights without questions being raised, he finally told them the relevant parts of the truth about Ditto's new status and occupation: that Ditto, now of age, was going to be working down at the Tom Kat Club, and that, as they may have surmised from things their friends had said to them, the Kat was not only a bar, but also a burlesque club where both women and men, did strip-tease performances. Ditto, he said, would be one of the dancers, and would also do "private performances" (he didn't specify what) on the alternate nights. He added that the club belonged to him, and that he and Benji had worked there themselves, and sometimes still did. He didn't mention the Rosebud, but he did ask if the boys had any questions. None did. Parker observed that he and Peyton would be eighteen, too, next spring. Deuce looked the two over appraisingly. It was an open secret in the family, mostly from the sounds of creaking bedsprings in the attic, that those two fucked one another like bunnies already. It would be time soon for Deuce to initiate a little heart-to-heart talk with the two of them, unless they came forward on their own. Ditto could only imagine how much money men would pay to see identical twins going at one another on stage. But no one pursued the topic for the moment. Pooch smirked and flicked his eyebrows at Ditto, but whether that indicated any deeper knowledge than what he had just been offered was anyone's guess. Satisfied, Deuce adjourned the family dinner, and the family members dispersed to their own activities. Pooch cornered Ditto in the hallway to ask if he could get in to watch Ditto's routine. "No way, Pooch, you could cause the whole thing to get closed down, Kiddo. You're too young." They reached a compromise, though. Some afternoon soon, in a week or so when he was more comfortable with the routine, Ditto would give Pooch and Cooter, and the twins, too if they wanted, a private show here at home. "I'm working on my act for next month," added Cooter. "I'll give you a preview, too." Both realized that, if they were going to strip and jack for the public in general, which sometimes would include women as well as men, they might as well not hide behind a useless modesty with Ditto's brothers. Pooch beamed, placated. Deuce dressed and went down to the club to oversee final preparations. Ditto hung around with Cooter and Benji for a couple of hours, then he dressed and went down to the club as well, to reconnoiter the scene, having never been inside previously. Both men wore street clothes: khaki slacks and a light linen shirt for Deuce, over boxer briefs and sockless deck shoes, and tan cargo shorts with a tee-shirt, bottom half ripped off, over smiley boxers and flip-flops for Ditto. Cooter and Benji adjourned to the master suite sitting room, where Benji revealed to Cooter one of the last remaining house secrets: he opened a locked cabinet opposite the bed, which contained a set of video monitors. The club and all the Rosebud rooms contained discreet video cameras which broadcast closed circuit to monitors here and in the Rosebud office. A security man was on duty at all times to keep track of activities on all of those screens and notify the bouncers if anything untoward was developing, whether someone suspected to be under-age getting in, or a dangerous situation developing for one of the escorts. Benji and Deuce did not watch all the time, but they could check in at any time from their room, and they did regularly spot-check to supervise the security man. Tonight, he and Cooter would be able to watch the whole show down at the club from the bed. They settled in to wait for the show, but they had an assortment of other channels to look in on while they waited. Action was slow in most of the rooms, as it was early yet. In a few rooms, busty young women entertained male clients. Gay or not, Cooter was fascinated to watch the girls so willingly offering pussy to naked men. In a couple of rooms, one of the young men was turning a trick. Cooter eagerly checked out all the screens. He did not recognize anyone. To his surprise, what was going on seemed to be plain vanilla sex—-pudgy older men sucking on the fit young hustlers' cocks, and later getting lustily fucked by them, clad decently in condoms. `I can do that,' thought Cooter with relief. In the show room, about forty chairs were arranged in a circle around a sort of gurney, a narrow but tall cot, on a slightly raised, round platform in the center of the room. Deuce came in and looked over the arrangements. Later, Ditto joined him, and they seemed to be walking through Deuces' plan a bit. He had wanted to keep it simple, natural, and unpremeditated, so there was no actual rehearsal, just a description of what he had in mind. Ditto seemed calm, and was nodding. Then, they left the room. Soon, men began straggling in, and a well-pumped, shirtless waiter came in offering beer, wine, or water from a tray. Cooter thought he recognized the young man from a few classes ahead in school (he had to be twenty-one to serve alcohol)--a handsome man with dark hair and a beefy torso. A couple of the men groped his package, and he made no move to defend it. He just smiled and chatted with them. He left, more men arrived, and a second waiter came in with more drinks, a smooth-chested blond. That one, Cooter did not know, but the men gropped him just as eagerly. As midnight approached, the guests settled into their seats. On the stroke of twelve, the lights dimmed. Ditto was officially eighteen. The audience appeared to be singing, with big grins—ah, yes, "Happy Birthday, dear Ditto!" their lips read. A touch of dark, but poignant humor for the young man who was about to get his ass ripped open. A moment later, the stage lights rose on the central platform, which was illuminated from all directions. There was no sound with the monitors, but it seemed that some kind of announcement was being made and music was being played. Then, from one side of the room, out sauntered Ditto, buck naked. The men clapped and hooted. From the other side, Deuce, likewise. More clapping. It was not like the years-earlier deflowering of Benji at all—no dancing, no stripping. The two walked up to one another, spoke a couple of phrases, which presumably no one could hear, and then Deuce drew Ditto to him and kissed him lovingly and passionately. Ditto returned the kiss, stretching his arms around his dad's neck. Ditto's cock sprang out from his crotch and soared toward his navel in the young man's vertical hard-on. Deuce's extended itself more slowly, and not quite so high, but it was huge, as was Ditto's. The audience, such as could be seen, drooled. The platform began to rotate, so that everyone could see all the action, no matter where he was seated. The camera was fixed to the platform, so that it rotated, too, and that meant that all the audience fell within its gaze at one point or another. Cooter recognized just about all the men he and Ditto had identified earlier as possible attendees. He caught his breath slightly, but did not exclaim over the fact that he spotted his father as one of them, seated in the middle row, next to Coach. This time, so far, they had their pants on. The two men made out with loving and restrained passion. Then Deuce bent his head and sucked on Ditto's tit a couple of minutes, while fondling his ball sack. Ditto stroked Deuce's cock. As Benji had done years before, Ditto knelt before Deuce and took that big knob of a cockhead into his mouth gingerly. Hanging onto Deuce's muscular thighs, he slobbered over it, and then gradually drew it into his mouth and down his throat until at times, it was completely inserted down to the short hairs. He sucked for about five minutes or more. Then, gracefully, Deuce pulled him up and guided him to the cot, where he urged his son up onto his knees at the end of the mattress. He began to make out with Ditto's asshole as the platform turned and necks craned for optimal views. The rimming took another five minutes. Then, Deuce reached for a bottle of lube under the narrow cot and poured a stream of lubricant on Ditto's relaxed asshole and onto his own erect phallus. He slid in one finger, wiggled it around, then two, then tapped four fingers gently into the raised rectum before him. Deuce gently but firmly pulled Ditto's hips down to cock-entry level. Ditto's expression changed to a slightly vacant look, and then to a look of pleasure, but he never registered pain, even when Deuce replaced the probing fingers with the head of his bare cock, and pushed. Ditto looked slightly awe-struck, then eager, then lost in enjoyment as the long flesh-pole slid in and out, deeper on every down-stroke, until Deuce's lightly pubed crotch was pressed against his son's tanned, hair-sprinkled ass. His hands stroked Ditto's flanks, hips, and thighs, reassuringly. Then, he began to thrust deeply in and out. It was a beautiful mating. In all, Deuce fucked Ditto for thirty-three minutes, in seven different positions. Cooter counted. It was amazing the stamina and control the man had. Ditto gave all appearances of enjoying every moment of it, as did the rapt audience. About half-way through, the two bare-chested waiters began to invite the viewers, in small groups, to come forward for close-up looks at the action. Some reached out to stroke Deuce's ass, some to give Ditto a reassuring pat. Coach grabbed Ditto's hand and held it for a moment, as Ditto looked at him, smiling. Coach was telling his quarterback something reassuring. At last, with everyone back in their places, Deuce began to drive toward the finish, which he achieved by spewing all over Ditto's face and into his mouth. No one came forward to lick it off—-Ditto kept the sperm on his face and lips and sliding down his chin through several bows, a final kiss with Deuce, and his exit from the room, grinning happily. His debut sex performance, by all appearances, was a good experience for him, and Cooter was relieved. Both men--still naked but faces, and corresponding private areas, washed up a bit--returned shortly to hob-nob with their audience for about twenty minutes. Ditto let the men feel him up, smiling and chatting like a pro, almost as if he didn't realize he was being groped. Even Cooter's dad rested his hand on Ditto's butt as he told him, apparently, how much he had enjoyed the show. Later, when reporting on the event, Ditto shared that the comments were mostly on how grown-up he was, how hot-looking he had turned out, and how much like his dad and uncle he looked. One or two old geezers added something about his resemblance to his beautiful mother, whom they remembered fondly from over a decade earlier. Deuce and Ditto left the room, and the men began to disperse. Five minutes later, both showed up on other screens: they had moved to separate rooms over at the Rosebud. Each had two visitors, for about forty minutes apiece, though Ditto's second john finished in twenty-five. Ditto entertained Coach, who apparently had been saving up for the experience for some time, just hoping it would be offered; then a fellow Cooter did not know. Coach wanted to fuck Ditto, while the other wanted him to be the top. Ditto cheerfully obliged and seemed to be hitting it off well with both men. That had to be weird, Cooter thought, getting reamed by Coach. But Ditto handled it like a pro. "I guess," said Cooter to Benji thoughtfully, "after your dad has fucked your ass, it doesn't really matter all that much who else does." Benji laughed. "I wouldn't know. My dad is one of the few who never did me." In Deuce's room, the mayor and a man in an expensive-looking business suit took their turns, bending over for Deuce to fuck their asses. He wore condoms now, as did Ditto and Coach. It was plain vanilla sex, and it was a business transaction, almost boring to the sleepy Cooter. "That's the way we want it," declared Banji, when Cooter commented. "Nice and clean, no unreasonable demands, and particularly, no violence. That's why we monitor so much, and record all sessions. This is a dangerous occupation, and not all who enter it come out alive. We take all the care we can of our employees." At two-thirty A. M., the two headliners showed up again in the show room, where another forty men sat patiently. The Kat had just closed. This was the special, after-hours reprise presentation of Ditto's premiere. This time, there were more men in the audience that Cooter did not know, out-of-towners drawn to the special event. It went just like the first time, with Ditto getting fucked a full half-hour and seeming to enjoy it, though Deuce's large cock had to be a challenge to his young ass. Cooter was grateful for the role his own big dick had had in preparing his friend's hole for such abuse. This audience was just as appreciative, and hung around as long as the two stars would stay with them afterward, groping and chatting, and sipping their drinks. Deuce and Ditto returned to their private rooms for one more gig for the night. For Deuce, it was a uniformed state trooper who awaited him. Clearly, the two knew one another and had been together before. Deuce pinned his muscular clent to the bed and reamed his ass firmly for another twenty minutes or so. In Ditto's room, another suit-clad stanger appeared, this one fit-looking and in his forties, not at all a bad assignment. He even kissed Ditto tenderly before departing. Ditto had a good five minutes to wait before Deuce showed up from next door to accompany him home. Neither bothered to dress for the drive up the hill. It was after four, and it had been quite a night. Benji used the remote control to shut down all the monitors, which were all dark, anyway. Cooter went down the hall to await his lover in their own room. Ditto dragged in, exhausted but smiling. "How was it? Did you enjoy it as much as you seemed to?" "Mostly, yeah. I was ready for Coach to spew before he did, honestly, and that last guy, I was almost a zombie for him. He was OK, though, I hope he comes again. The two times with Deuce, I gotta say, man, that was hot. I really got off on being watched, and doing it with my dad was way more exciting, it's hard to explain. I liked it a lot. We may never do it again, so it was special. His dick is even thicker than your mule cock, and it really rang my bell." He was crawling into bed with Cooter while he said this, and as the last few words escaped his lips, he rested his cheek on Cooter's powerful bicep. He was sound asleep.