Date: Fri, 24 Oct 2003 10:37:37 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: Stephen Miller's Journal by Tom Cup - Chapter 5- A/Y, Incest Copyright 2000 - 2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? 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I have never had such a feast and have never drunk so much wine. Dr. Ritten, the boys and I spent Thanksgiving alone, much to my surprise. I was expecting a grand affair like that of Halloween. I'm not complaining by any stretch of the imagination but I did voice my amazement. Dr. Ritten said, with a wink, that Thanksgiving was for family. It was an odd thing to say in view of the fact that he insisted that I remain at the house with them instead of going home to be with my family. But the wine and merriment of the occasion took over. We all drank, the boys also, and the spirit of the day was filled with warmth and joviality. We left the table uncleared and much to my surprise retired to the study. I took special note of the study as it was only my second time in the room. The window behind the desk faced the east and though it framed the well-manicured garden beyond, was draped with a heavy tapestry curtain. The curtain was opened today but I recalled that it had been closed on my first visit to the room. There was a leather corner sofa in the southwestern corner of the room, where we all relaxed together -- Robby nested in my arms as Jon did the same in his father's. I was a bit alarmed at first by this but soon relaxed in the "family" atmosphere -- of course in front of the desk were two high back chairs. It was the northern wall I wondered the most about. The entire wall, from floor to ceiling, was covered with mahogany cabinetry. I imagined that it was where the Doctor's rare books, or private patient tapes, were kept, as all but the center cabinet had locks. Dr. Ritten handed us each a cigar, proclaiming we were all men and should enjoy the pleasure of men together. He then poured us each a brandy. I became a little green from the cigar. The three Ritten men found it somewhat amusing. Robby asked, "Jeez, haven't you ever had a cigar before?" I confessed that I had not. "God!" he exclaimed, "We're gonna have to teach you everything?" "Now, now," Dr. Ritten comforted, "Everyone doesn't live life as we do. It's Thanksgiving and we are thankful that Stephen has joined our family. Let's not embarrass him." "Sorry," Robby said with a mischievous grin, "Suck it but don't swallow." He then burst into laughter. I was mortified. I, as everyone else, realized the sexual overtones of Robby's comment, they laughed. "Relax," Dr. Ritten said, "We're all men. This is your rite of passage Stephen. A fine cigar, the best Brandy, and free and open talk among men." He stood (the boys rose with him) and held his snifter in the air. "To Stephen," he proclaim, "Welcome to our family." "To Stephen," the boys intoned. I didn't know what to say. The ceremonial tones of the occasion ended and the conversation turn to more mundane topics: how I was doing with my studies, how the boys were doing with their studies, was there anything I wanted or needed, were the boys becoming too much for me -- by this I thought Dr. Ritten meant were they behaving. The truthful answer would have been `no', considering the sexual exploits accruing in the house. I noticed Robby and Jon watched alertly as I answered that particular question. All seemed pleased when I said that the boys were a joy to be around. That also was true -- and finally, would I be staying for Christmas? I explained that my parents really did wish to see me sometime during the holidays. Robby and Jon both moaned. Dr. Ritten suggested that I go home the week before Christmas and come back the day after to spend the remains of the holiday season with them. I was relieved with the compromise but Robby was not. He stomped off angrily. "He's really taken to you," Dr. Ritten said, "Why don't you go and talk to him, calm him down. He most likely thinks you won't come back." I nodded and headed off to find Robby. I did notice that the door to the study closed behind me and I thought I heard the lock turn. ************ Robby was lying on his bed, on his stomach, facing away from the door with his feet in the air. His hands cradled his cheeks. I sat on the bed next to him and began gently rubbing his back. I had learned that he was a pushover for a backrub. Robby got into what Jon called "his moods". During those times he could be demanding and combative. These moods never lasted long but I learned that a gentle backrub shortened them considerably, and if that didn't work a good tickling always did the trick. "Don't be this way Robby," I pleaded, "You know I'm coming back." "Yeah," he said, "but I don't like it when you go away." "I have a family too you know." "We're your family now," he said relaxing on the bed to signal that my handiwork was taking effect. "Yeah, I really care about you guys," I admitted. Robby rolled over to face me, putting his hands over his head. His flat stomach tightened with the move, lifting his shirt partly out of his jeans. He stared into my eyes. "Do you love me Stephen?" "Of course I do." "No, I don't mean do you love having sex with me and all. I mean do you love me." I didn't answer right away and Robby turned back on his stomach. I really hadn't thought about my emotional attachment in the terms that Robby was suggesting. I did love him, he and Jon; I mean how could I not? They had taught me more about the joys of sex than I ever thought possible. But did I love Robby in the way he was suggesting. "It's OK," he muttered. "Come on Robby," I tried to comfort, "You know I love you. It's just ..." "That you don't love me." "Look, it's confusing. I mean, if anyone found out what we were doing..." He turned again to face me. "Why do you always say that? All I asked is if you loved me and you start going on about someone finding out. Nobody is going to find out. We told you that." "OK, OK," I conceded. Robby sighed. "I just want someone to really love me is all." "I know. We all do." "I love you Stephen. I really do. I know you're worried about my age and all but..." "What?" His eyes looked beyond me, toward his bookcase. I started to look in that direction but his mood changed rapidly. He grabbed my arm, pulled me to him, and whispered, "Just hold me, please. We don't have to do anything, just hold me." I stretched out with him on his bed and held him. We exchanged loving kisses and Robby wept silently in my arms. I am sorry that I allowed Robby's sexual maturity to deceive me into believing that sex was all he wanted from our relationship. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I have to find a way to make this up to him. November 25, 1992 Jon came into my room today a bit miffed. He said I was being a shit to Robby. When I asked him what he meant he said I was treating him like shit. He didn't explain any further but left the room, slamming the door behind him." November 26, 1992 I pulled Robby aside after dinner and asked if we could talk. After Jon's accusation last night I thought about things and realized that I had been avoiding the boys since Thanksgiving. I don't know what is bothering me but something doesn't seem right. But that doesn't matter. I don't want to hurt the boys. Jon seems to be handling the fact that we haven't been `playing together', as they call it, but Robby has been sullen. We sat on my bed. Robby wouldn't look at me but stared down at the floor. I didn't really know what to say. "I'm sorry I acted so stupid at Thanksgiving if that's why you're mad at me," he said. "I'm not mad at you. Why would you think that?" "You haven't played with me since then. You don't even touch me." "Yeah, I know. I'm just trying to work things out. That's all." "What are you trying to work out?" he asked finally looking at me. "Just... I don't know... I don't want to hurt you is all." "Then play with me. If you don't love me, at least play with me." "Robby, that's not what you want." "How do you know? I love you Stephen. So what if you don't love me back? At least we can have fun together. At least I can have that." I stared at him in disbelief but the fact is he is one sexy boy. God, I can't believe I am admitting this but it's true. Being `platonic' with Jon and he was a torture after all the play we had done. I wanted him again. I can't lie. Robby smiled. He jostled my shoulder. I supposed he noticed that I was becoming erect. I jostled him back. We both laughed. "One of these days you're going to get me in trouble," I resigned. "Or you're going to fall in love with me," he teased. "Maybe," I admitted. "So we friends again?" "Never stopped." "Cool." November 27, 1992 How it happened I don't know. Robby wound up sleeping with me last night. I mean the whole night. Jon knocked on the door this morning to wake us. Robby and I were a tangled heap of skinned bodies under my covers. At breakfast, the only mention of the discovery was Jon's comment that tonight would be his turn. Robby pouted a bit but said it was OK. I didn't have any say in the matter. Dr. Ritten came into the kitchen, whistling, and commented that he was glad that we all seemed to have worked out whatever was troubling us. What have I gotten myself into? November 28, 1992 Jesus! Jon is incredible. I mean fucking incredible. We both got off twice last night and he refused to let me out of bed until I fucked him again this morning. I think my cock is ready to fall off. Thank God that Dr. Ritten's room is at the far end of the house cause Jon went at me with such abandonment that I couldn't control my vocalizations last night. God, it was incredible. We sucked each other to orgasm to begin with. Jon continued to suck me after I came. Before I knew it, he had planted himself on top of me and rode me to another orgasm while jacking himself to another. He collapsed on top of me and we fell asleep that way. God, it was incredible. November 29, 1992 The shoe dropped today. Dr. Ritten called me into his office. He said he was concerned about `the affection' that the boys were showing towards me. I tried to play dumb. He talked about how adolescent hormones can sometimes lead young people to mistake their emotions for something other than what they are. He said he was more concerned with Robby than with Jon. "Robby," he said, "seems particularly attached to you. I don't want my boys hurt, Stephen." He said that I should make sure I am using good judgment with his boys. He didn't seem upset; just really matter of fact about the whole discussion. I'm scared shitless. He knows. I know he does. What the hell am I going to do? I've been so stupid about this. I told myself that this would blow up in my face. Did I listen? No, I let things go too far, all because ... Fuck! What am I going to do? I'll have to talk with Robby and Jon, beg them not to talk and then resign. It's all I can think to do. ************************************************************************ Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story." Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local independent bookseller, or get a signed copy from Tom Cup.com.