Date: Sat, 14 Sep 2013 09:06:21 -0500
From: naked guy <ihateclothes@gmail.com>
Subject: My Twisted Boyfriend PT 22

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My Twisted Boyfriend (sequel to Twisted Next Door Neighbors) PT 22

(Fiction/fantasy, teen/college romance, incest)

I got fucked a lot during my first week of living with Dean and his family.
That double fuck I received from Jim and Dean started a pattern.  I was
welcome to sleep on the couch, Dean's bedroom, or Jim's room.  Jim's room
wasn't so much the private domain anymore.  If I wanted the comfort of a
king sized bed and quietness, I'd hit the sack in Jim's bed.  Dean's room
was dark but was too near the twins.  If I was napping after eating, I'd
lie back on the couch and nap there.

Jim said my ass was fair game if he found me naked on his bed.  He didn't
always bother to wake me up first, either.  I'd feel lube or spit being
drizzled in my crack and then his fat dick would push in and fill me
up.  Sometimes,
I had him get me off while he fucked me or just after it.  Some night's, I
let him shoot inside me and then I just rolled over and went to sleep
contentedly.

Dean, on the other hand, usually wanted some kind of reciprocation—be it
oral or kissing.  When he came home from work, I was usually beat from my
job and/or my gym workout.  At least he was less abrupt when waking me up.  He
liked to eat my ass or suck my tits while I was sleeping.  I'd go in and
out of sleep until he stuck himself in me.

The best night was the one in which I'd just gotten fucked by Jim, fell
asleep, and then got fucked by Dean.  After Jim bred me, I got up to piss
but went back to Dean's bed to sleep.  Dean came in from work and told me I
smelled like his dad after he'd gotten naked and hopped into bed.  He
gently rolled me onto my stomach and took his turn depositing cum inside me.
Jim's sperm made my hole perfectly lubed for Dean.  They soon figured out I
secretly liked being passed around.

- - -

On Monday of the second week, the twins asked me what we were having for
dinner as if I were their mom.  After I told them that there was food in
the kitchen (hinting for them to cook for themselves), they just grabbed a
box of cereal and took it to their room.  Later I found the empty cereal
box in the bathroom trash can.  That was all they ate for supper.

On Tuesday night, they didn't ask me to cook.  They grabbed a jar of peanut
butter, two spoons, and a glass of milk and headed to their room.  I hoped
they hadn't always eaten like that—or had they?  I knew they ate breakfast
and lunch at school.  On weekends, they ordered pizza or ate out.  I
wondered if they'd had no real supper after Jim began working evenings for
the last year or so.  In the transition of Dean heading to college and Jim
working late (instead of overnight), they must have fended for themselves.

I went to the freezer and pulled out a frozen meatloaf.  I'd bought a
frozen one when I was craving my mom's food but hadn't cooked it yet.  On
that evening, I figured it was enough for the three of us.  When it was
done, I heated up some cream style corn from a can along with some frozen
black eyed peas.  I guess they thought I was cooking something for me and
didn't pay attention to food smells.  The food was all canned or frozen,
but it was a real meal.

"Dinner's ready!" I yelled extremely loud.

They came running into the living room looking all surprised.

"Sweet!" they said in unison.

They stomped into the kitchen and began grabbing paper plates from a drawer
and filled them up with the food.  I filled my own plate up after them and
sat down on the far side of the table.  They didn't say a word as they
scarfed it down.  They continued to eat quietly until their plates were
totally empty.

"There's more if you want it!" I said.

"Thank you!" Curt said.

He and Jeff got up and put more of the meatloaf on their plate.  Their
second helpings were gone in a heartbeat.  I went back for more but only
the vegetables were left.  I finished them off.  When they were done, they
offered to help me clean up--I was surprised.

"Naw dude, go do your homework."

"Cool, okay!" Jeff replied.

There wasn't any food left over for Dean or Jim—I really didn't care.  I
felt kind of pissed that Dean, who had a car, wasn't bringing them home
anything to eat.  Jim simply assumed they were eating something decent (I
supposed).

I thought about how much more food was going to have to be bought if
everyone was going to eat real meals.  At the time I didn't analyze my
actions or thoughts.  I just felt it was my obligation to make sure
everyone was fed.  I guess I needed a purpose around the house.

- - -

As April neared, we fell into a new routine.  I cooked dinner for the guys
on weeknights.  On the weekend, Jim took us all out to eat.  I began to
branch out from frozen stuff and cook fresh meats.  I soon tired of
Hamburger Helper and instead cooked pork chops, spaghetti, etc.  I even
tried frying chicken, but that didn't work out too well and we had to toss
it.  Needless to say, I was on the phone often with my mom or step mother
asking how to cook something correctly.

Other chores got pushed off on me, too. I ended up doing a lot of their
laundry because whenever I let mine pile up to do all at once, the twins or
Dean would run and toss their stuff in the washer.  I figured out they'd
been washing clothes on a need basis instead of washing everything dirty at
one time.  They would run a load to wash two pairs of jeans, for example.

Dean always picked his stuff out of the dryer and ironed his stuff for work.
He hung up his clothes after he got home from work.  He as always too
worried about the way he looked to not have clean clothes on hand.  Jim
wore nothing but his uniform or a single pair of jeans at home (and two
different t-shirts).  His uniform shirts didn't need to be ironed and he
wore jeans with them.

Jim had the nerve to bitch if I didn't put his stuff in the dryer after the
oversized wash load finished.  The twins got their stuff of the dryer as
they needed it.  In their room there was a pile of clean but outgrown
clothes in a corner.  The clean clothes that fit them sat on their dresser
instead of being put away in the numerous dresser drawers or the closet.  Dirty
clothes that needed to be washed sat the other corner.

Everyone used a new towel every time they washed and tossed the dirty ones
into a beat up, old hamper.  Before the items in the hamper finally got
washed, a mildew smell would often permeate the bathroom.  I ended up
washing the towels so I could have a clean one.  I wasn't aware of all
these things before I moved in.  I knew they were slobs, but I didn't
realize how lazy they all were.  I got fed up having their work pushed off
on me.

"Guys, get in here now!" I yelled one day.

The twins slowly walked in from their bedroom.

"Who crammed their pants in with my stuff?"

"Uh...I did." Curt stammered.

There were four pairs of Jeans and a lot of t-shirts crammed into my load
that the agitator was struggling to turn and made a weird noise.  I dug out
their clothes and dumped the wet mess into a torn up laundry basket.  I
closed the lid and the washing resumed without the noise.

"I'm not gonna wash, dry, and fold your shit!" I shouted.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"You guys get all the dirty stuff out of your room now."

They just stood there.


"NOW!" I yelled.

They looked like deer in headlights before they got up and hurriedly
gathered their stuff.

"Did you get all those socks and towels?" I said.

"Yeah," Jeff answered.

"From the bathroom too?"

"No."

"Go get them!  And take the sheets off your bed."

- - -

By the end of the evening, every stitch they owned was clean.  When they
were done I urged them to put the clothes in their drawers and hang them up.
They looked at me like I was speaking Russian.  They hesitantly did what I
asked.  I told them to put the old clothes that they didn't wear into a
clean garbage bag.  Once done, their room looked cleaner and more spacious
than I'd ever seen it.

All my yelling at them gave me a headache.  I yearned for a fat joint to
smoke.  Despite the stress, I felt very satisfied after making them do all
that work.  THEIR share of the work.  They weren't bad kids, but they
needed direction—not just Jim yelling at them when he was tired

- - -

When Dean came home that evening he was quite amazed at what I had
accomplished with his brothers.

"You should have made them finish the deed by giving you a good blow job,"
he joked.  "I've tried to get them to clean up their shit before, but we
ended up fighting.  When dad tells them to do anything, they jump and do it
right away...only thing is he's always sleeping or at work."

He kissed me on the lips and whispered in my ear.

"I guess you're their new mama."

Then I slapped him hard on the ass.

"Ouch, biotch!" he laughed and rubbed his bare butt.

After he sat down and started checking his email on his laptop, I changed
the topic.

"Now that I'm settled in and the move is over, maybe we can have some
friends over."

He just kind of shrugged.

"Seriously.  Let's invite some people over for dinner or even have a party?
We can throw some big April Fool's joke on them!"

I got excited thinking about something fun to do, but he was indifferent.

"What's your problem dude?" I asked.

He closed his laptop and put it on the edge of the bed.

"Dude, don't you get it?  Have I ever invited anyone over?  Just you and
Miranda...hell, you're mom's only been in here three times ever.  This place
is a fucking dump!  I'm embarrassed by it!"

He abruptly got up and left the room.  I got up to follow him but he'd gone
into the bathroom and closed the door.  I figured he had to take a dump or
something.  I went to the living room and sat on the couch waiting for him
to join me.  After the toilet flushed, I heard him start the shower.  When
he finally came out, he went straight to bed.  I got mad and sat there
stewing.  He ignored me!

I decided there was no point in discussing it anymore that night.  I went
and got me a Coke and pulled out the bag of Doritos I'd hidden from the
twins.  I ate half the bag until my anger subsided.  I watched ESPN until I
got sleepy and then went to bed and joined Dean.  He was turned over on his
side as if he was still being aloof in his sleep.

I lay there in bed thinking about what he said.  The house was indeed old
and dated.  The house seemed sturdy structurally, but the interior had seen
better days.  I'd come to realize that after Dean's mom died, they let the
household go to shit...hence the erratic laundry, lack of real cooking (no
clean up needed), dirty bathrooms, etc.

"There must be cheap ways to spruce this place up," I thought to myself.

There was no reason why we couldn't make the house something to be proud
about.  I lay in the dark next to Dean as he snored and thought of all the
stuff to do around the house to fix it up or clean.  Eventually, I felt him
snuggle up to me.  I smiled in the dark.

- - -

Mom's wedding was to be held on the last week of April.  That gave her
plenty of time but she was constantly worrying herself with the details.  She
and Charlie were to get married at his local church.  A reception would
follow at the church immediately after.  Charlie's daughters and their
families were going to be staying at his house, so mom was equally stressed
out worrying about preparing the house for them.

I didn't dare bring up my ideas to fix up the house just yet to Jim.  I
figured I would try to spruce up whatever I could first just by cleaning
the place up.  When nobody but Curt and Jeff were home, I used my recently
discovered power over them to do make them help with the chores.  I began
to realize after that all I had do is butch it up to the max and they did
whatever orders I barked out.

First, I asked them to help me scrub down the bathrooms.  There was mildew
in both of the showers and in the inside of the toilet bowls.  The bathroom
floors looked new after they were cleaned.  The dirtier the job was, the
more fun it seemed to the twins.  They enjoyed grossing each other out.  One
bathroom rug, which smelled like urine, was tossed in the washing machine.  It
ended up disintegrating and would have to be replaced.

As for me, I alone tacked cleaning out the entire refrigerator and
underneath the kitchen sink.  The glass shelves in the fridge pulled out
easily and I scrubbed them in the sink.  Most all of the unused condiments
I found were a year or more passed the expiration dates.  I pulled out the
fridge away from the wall and swept out all kinds off crumbs, bread ties, a
dead cricket, etc.  I decided the reason there were no roaches was because
there nobody ever cooked.

Under the sink it was dank and humid.  I found a bottle of cleaner had been
slowly leaking for ages.  Luckily, the wood wasn't rotted.  I cleaned that
section out and threw away a bunch of old bottles of cleaners that hadn't
been touched in ages.  I also found a can of turpentine, a baseball glove,
and an empty bottle Mr. Bubble.

I told Dean during the week why I was trying to clean up.  I told him since
he was so embarrassed about it all that he should help out.  Amazingly, he
got up off his ass and vacuumed the entire house.  He even pulled furniture
away from the walls.  He went through the kitchen drawers and shook out the
crumbs and other dust that had accumulated and wiped them out.  He tossed
all the broken utensils, numerous aluminum pie pans, and other junk no one
used.  Together, he and I removed layers of dust from everything in the
living room.

All that work took multiple days to complete.  Once it was done, we invited
Miranda over.  She'd been inside Dean's house many times before, but it was
her first time to visit after it was moved to the new location.  She
immediately noticed the cleaning that had been done.  When Dean left the
room to get us come Cokes, she patted me on the back.

"You can't fool me.  You're behind all of this, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, how did you know?" I asked.

"Well, your own place was flawlessly clean.  The dirtiest I ever saw your
room was when you left clothes on the floor.  Your mom's a great
housekeeper.   These poor souls lost the "woman's touch" around here too
long ago."

Before I could comment, Dean came back into the room and the conversation
topic changed.  He began chatting about some movie he wanted us three to go
see.  She just winked at me behind his back.  I felt really good about my
accomplishments that week.  I hoped the guys would keep it up.

- - -

After the week of cleaning, I told the twins we all needed to contribute to
keeping the place clean.  There was still the dated shag carpet and 70's
furniture that couldn't be immediately removed, but I had faith that we
could at least keep the controllable stuff in check.

I had my first argument with Jim soon after.  He'd cooked some stew and
then left the pot in the sink for a day.  He tossed a few dirty uniform
shirts in the laundry when I was washing my work clothes and jeans.  Other
habits and comments of his had rubbed me the wrong way since I'd moved in.  He
had told me in the past to talk to him like a regular person and not to use
"no, sir" and "yes, sir".  Yet, he talked to me like I was one of the
immature twins.  When he dumped some more laundry on me one day, I blew up.

"Shit dude, I've been getting these guys to keep stuff clean with no help
from you.  Can't you fuckin' clean up after yourself?" I said loudly.

As soon as I said it, I knew I'd put my foot in my mouth.  I had just
really pissed him off, but I was tired of walking on eggshells around him.

"Excuse me buddy?" he said.

He walked up to me and we were just inches apart.  He was six foot and
hovered over me.  Despite my good build, his broad shoulders dwarfed mine.  For
once, though, I didn't cower to him.  I stood my ground.

"Yes Jim, I'm just asking you to help out.  They guys and I have cleaned up
the place—if you've noticed.  I appreciate being allowed to live here, but
I think I'm doing my share.  I cook, clean, and pay for all of the food; I
give you money for bills."

He didn't blow up like I thought he would--but he didn't say anything at
all.

"I'm a grown man.  You've told me and Dean that many times now when
bitching about something we forgot to do.  I'm trying to act like one...so I
want to be treated like one.  You've bitched at me at times like I'm a kid.
You have sex with me `man to man' but you don't talk to me like I'm a man."

He just stood there and he looked deeply into my eyes without changing his
serious expression.

"Point made," he said.

He just turned around and walked off.  I thought he just blew me off.

Then, a minute later he emerged from his bedroom with a bundle of towels
and pants and walked into the main bathroom.  I could hear the hamper open
and close.  I went into Dean's room and closed the door.  As I sat on the
bed, my hands were shaking and my pits were wet.  I couldn't believe what
had just happened.  In the distance, I heard the sink running in the
kitchen and something was being scrubbed.

- - -

Jim requested a week of vacation during the local school Spring Break
holiday.  Early in the week, he took all the boys to the skateboarding park.
In all that time that Dean and I had been taking Curt and Jeff out there,
Jim had never been.  When I got home from work that day, I heard lots of
laughing and carrying on.  The guys immediately began telling me of their
late afternoon escapade.  They had tried to show off to let Jim see every
maneuver they knew.  They'd coaxed Dean on a skateboard and he nearly
busted his ass.

The rest of the week, Jim stayed around the house and we all worked
together on the property doing things like putting the hammock up, mowing,
etc. We put aluminum fencing around the trailer to cover the underside and
insulate it.  It was hard work, but I enjoyed doing it because it improved
the new living space.  The labor was nothing like the hellish weekend that
the trailer was moved there.

On the last weekday of their Spring Break, we all went fishing at a local
lake.  Only one of us caught a fish, but we had a blast.  Everyone teased
Dean who was constantly pouring on a high SPF sunscreen to avoid burning
the skin of his extremely white arms and neck.  He kept a shirt on to avoid
damaging his tattoo.  The rest of us went shirtless and got sunburned like
hell.

- - -

Spring Break ended and the twins went back to school.  Dean's classes
resumed at the college and we were all back on our regular schedules.  Work
was moderately busy.  With the twins back in school, everyone else's
routine went back to normal.  Dean and I worked opposite shifts and he
began to get lazy about going to the gym.

I often went to the gym alone before or after work.  I worked out with
Ricky whenever I saw him there.  We'd have good conversations ranging many
different topics.  I kept on giving him tips on how to work his muscles
better.  That was the point when things became uncomfortable at the gym.

One day I had started my workout alone and was gabbing with the dudes that
always hung out in the free weights room.  Most were all a bunch of muscle
heads that talked about nothing but exercise, sports, and other "manly"
topics.  They bitched about their supposed girl friends and other stupid
things.  Most of them acted overly macho.  I tolerated their banter and
sometimes enjoyed debating them about a football team or other sports issue.

When began working out my upper arms, one them chuckled and pointed to
other side of the room.

"Look at that pathetic loser.  He doesn't know what he's doing.  He just
needs to give up."

I looked toward where he pointed and there was Ricky using a machine
incorrectly.  I didn't say anything; I just walked over to Ricky and patted
him on the shoulder from behind to acknowledge myself.  He turned around
greeted me.

"Hey dude, I just wanted to discreetly let you know, you're sitting on this
one backwards," I said discreetly and with a wink of the eye.

"Oh shit!" he laughed.

He stood up and faced the other way and sat down.  He pulled the weights
down to correctly work out his upper back.  I patted him on the shoulder
and told him I'd be working out nearby if he wanted to chat again.  I
walked back up to the bench where I left my weights and resumed my dumbbell
raises.

"Is that your new boyfriend?" one of guys teased.

Without missing a beat, I responded.

"No, he's my friend.  My boyfriend is at work."

I kept moving my dumbbells and looked directly at him making eye contact.

"I thought so!" he mumbled.

He turned another direction, sat down, and began shoulder presses.  He
looked angrily toward the wall as he lifted the weights.  The other five
guys that were all talking with me and him before became silent.  I
secretly stewed over the asshole's comments but pretended to be unaffected.
When I left, I gave the rude guy a "go to hell" look and walked to the
locker room to shower.

The next day, only one or two of the muscle guys spoke to me.   When they
did, they acted nervous and spoke in a rushed manner.  I didn't care--I
just went about my workout.  I never told Ricky or Dean about that guy's
comments.

- - -

Easter was a simple affair.  I bought a canned ham and fixed baked beans
and mashed potatoes to go with it.  I'd been craving my stepmother's
deviled eggs for months, so I made them from a recipe she emailed to me.  I
cooked some "brown and serve" rolls and served with butter.  I cooked a
frozen apple pie for dessert.  When the dinner was done, I put the food on
the table and took a photo of it.  I was very proud of the spread I'd
produced.

I called everyone to the table.  The guys dug in and there was nothing left
after we finished.  Everyone was in a good mood.  I hadn't seen Jim joke
around so much before.  It seemed like he was slowly letting go of his fear
to enjoy the things in life that he associated with Dean's mom—their life
with her.   When he laughed he was so damn sexy.  I looked down to see his
robe had slowly fallen open at the waist.  My dick rose seeing a flaccid
penis surrounded by his bush.

After we ate, Dean went outside to work on a drawing.  The twins napped on
the couch and love seat.  I sat in the floor against the couch eyeing Jim
in his chair as he watched TV with a beer in hand.  I heard Curt snore
behind me.  I began to feel overdressed and pulled off the shirt I'd put on
to cook the meal.  I lifted my ass up and slipped my shorts off.  My low
hanging balls touched the carpet as I sat back down.  I looked up at Jim
and he was staring at my semi.

"You're horny huh?" he asked.

"Fuck yeah!" I said.

"Then let's get it on!"

We stood up and we walked down the hall to his room.  He playfully put his
arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor.  We walked like that to
his room with my feet hovering over the carpet.  As he carried me down the
hallway, I felt his hardening cock pressed against my backside.  When we
got to his room he lifted me up more and pretended to toss me onto the bed.
I landed on my side and he jumped on top of me.

"I've got you know, you sexy fucker!" he sniggered.

I tried to get up and we wrestled.  I hadn't roughhoused before with him
like that.  It was hot!

"If you were my size, I'd have you on your belly begging for mercy!" I told
him.

"Oh yeah?"

While I was pinned down, he took one hand and started tickling me
relentlessly.   I kept squirming to get away.

"Yeah, I heard you were damn ticklish...looks like they were right!"

I kept trying to get out from under him.  Then he took both rough, large
hands and put one on each of my ribs.

"Fuck dude, stop it!" I was laughing so hard.

Even though I was being tortured, my dick was rock hard.  The rough,
physical play got my body hot and I could smell my pits.  When he finally
relented, He dropped down and started kissing my neck—such a vulnerable
place for me.  It was just then that I looked up and saw Dean standing
there in the dark hallway watching us.

He knew he could join in if he wanted.  I didn't say anything to Jim.  I
just stared back at Dean.  I was too turned on to care if Dean was feeling
left out.  Jim's mouth traveled down to my chest and he licked it all over
in big, wet strokes.  Soon, I was covered with spit.  Dean's dick wasn't
hard, I noticed.  I was about to say something when Jim buried his face in
my right pit and started eating it.  I just closed my eyes and relaxed as
he chewed on the hair in my armpit.  He sucked the skin making me squirm,
but I didn't protest.

I pulled my knees to my chest and spread them to offer up my hole.  I
looked back in the hall and Dean was gone.  Jim spit liberally into his
hand and two wet fingers entered my ass and searched around.  They pulled
out and were followed by three wet fingers which went in all the way past
his knuckles.

"I'm ready!" I told him.

He spit again and I felt the warm liquid ooze onto my hole.  Then the head
of his penis pressed against my anus.  He pushed in very slowly with no
stopping until he was all the way inside me.  A slow fuck followed with my
feet in the air.  He fell against me humped me.  Our mouths pressed
together as we kissed deeply.  I kept my eyes closed and rubbed the hair on
his chest while I took in all the sensations.  After about twenty minutes,
his hips bucked hard and he fell on top of me while he pumped his load.  Hot
beer breath wafted into my nostrils.

After he pulled out, he slid a few fingers in me to gather some come.  He
used his warm cum to jack me off.  It didn't take long for me to shoot.  He
stroked me fast and concentrated solely on the head of my cock.  I moaned
extremely loud as his hand kept pumping and pumping and my sperm squirted
all over it.

When my orgasm finally subsided, he rubbed his sticky hand on my chest to
smear off the cum and ass juice that had collected on it.  In his normal
fashion, he rolled over onto this belly and sighed.  I knew he'd be asleep
in minutes.  I looked out toward the hallway and heard nothing.  I stood up
and felt a head rush.  I sat down until the slight dizziness subsided.  I
slowly waked to our room and opened the door.  The blinds were shut and I
could see Dean's naked form lying on his stomach.

"You okay?" I asked as I snuggled beside him.

"Yeah."

He didn't turn his head to face me.

"I understand now that I have to share you.  You belong to him too now,
huh?"

I wasn't sure what to say...

To be continued.

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