Copyright ã 2010

By Lee Mariner

This erotic gay story is intended for ADULT readers only. If you are not of age in your locality to be reading the story or should you not approve of such material, PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.

This work is copyrighted by the author and it may not be reproduced in any form or posted on any website without the specific written consent of the author.

It is assigned to the Nifty Archives for posting in accordance with their published guidelines for posting materials on their website.


Chapter #3

John had mentioned asking Chris if he played golf and might want to join us. But, I was busy with the tax accounts that I managed that, I didn't see Chris or Toby until Sunday morning when the entire family was getting into their Ford Exhibition and I assumed they were probably on their way to church.

I was on my way to help a friend, Paul Conklin, who had called and asked if I would be able to help him move some heavy furniture. Paul was doing his own redecorating and being on the slight side, he had a hard time with heavy things and usually called me when he reached a critical point that needed a little more brawn than he had been endowed with; at least in the muscle department.

As I opened the door to my car, I heard my name being called and I looked over my shoulder. Toby was waving his arm vigorously and I returned his wave. On the opposite side of the car, I saw Chris look in my direction and then duck his head as he got into the drivers seat.

I watched for a brief moment as Toby entered their vehicle. He was wearing long white trousers with a matching jacket over a dark blue shirt with what must have been a multi-colored tie, and white shoes. His white outfit enhanced the brilliance of his honey gold hair. I couldn't help thinking, 'casually or formally, Toby is a magnificent example of a handsome teenage boy on the verge of becoming a handsome young man.'

Driving to Paul's took about fifteen minutes. While driving, the more I thought about Toby, the harder my cock became until it felt like I might ejaculate in my shorts. Breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly, I thought, `Yesterday, I got so hot thinking about the golden magnificence of Chris that I jerked off in the shower, and today Toby, his equally magnificent teenage son is messing with my head.'

Fortunately, I was able to suppress the lascivious thoughts of a ménage a' trios' with Chris and Toby by the time I pulled into Paul's driveway.

He must have been watching for me to arrive. His front door opened without a knock, and Paul, as usual, did his impression of Bette Davis greeting her lover.

With a wave of his arm and the pressing of a wrist to his forehead he exclaimed, "Dahling, I have been absolutely beside myself waiting for you."

"Paul," I said, glancing away to hide a smile, "you forgot the lace handkerchief."

"Oh crackers, Brett, I always do," he exclaimed as he threw himself into my arm offering his lips for a kiss.

Paul was forty-two years old and slight of build, he probably didn't weigh very much over a hundred pounds soaking wet. His eyes were a milky blue, and his light brown hair was thinning on top and graying at the temples. What he lacked in stature, he made up for in personality and a sinfully prodigious phallus that would have driven Caligula mad with envy. Having, in our younger years, been involved in a very short affair with Paul, I can personally verify his popularity in gay circles. We were known to be a couple but that did not prevent cock hounds of any age from hitting on Paul. For a time, I did not mind it. In fact, I took a sort of pride in being the possessor of what so many wanted. But, the reason for Paul's popularity started wearing thin. Tell tale spots on the fabric of his trousers and stains in his briefs would infuriate me almost as much as some of the most inane excuses he would make as to why he was late coming home from work when it was a short subway ride.

It had been fun for a few months before it ended when he miscalculated when I would be home and I caught him and some floozy in our bed. That spelled the end. But for all of the acrimony, we have remained fast friends.


After a quick hug and a kiss, he spun out of my arms and said, "Would you like a drink before we start?"

"Another time, Paul, I have several things at home that need to be done," I responded, knowing well his hopes that a drink might lead to another and finally he would convince me that sex before work was a good thing.

For a moment, Paul's face expressed his usually feigned disappointment by displaying a juvenile pout that I had seen many, many times over the years. He knew it would not sway me but, Paul being Paul had to go through his child like charade.

It really didn't take much to see that Paul was in the middle of a major transformation of his home. Tables, hall chairs, mirrors, pictures, and various bric-a-brac were gathered in the center of the hallway under thick eco-friendly covers. The flooring was covered with the same covers except they were of a thicker material that allowed walking without being punctured.

I knew what furniture he had called me for assistance in moving--- the living room. There were two large horse-hair upholstered Victorian style sofas with matching easy chairs. A large upright Wurlitzer piano that occupied space on one wall along with a large oaken desk with a large high back chair. Several mirrors and paintings on three walls and his pride and joy that covered one entire wall, a hanging tapestry depicting Moses kneeling shoeless before the Burning Bush on Mount Horeb.

Paul had already stacked the scaffolding that would be needed for the high ceilings and removal of the tapestry but, he had neglected to mention several recently acquired items that would require moving when he asked for my help. It would take the better part of the morning if not all of it before we would be finished.

It was going on two in the afternoon before I was able to get away from Paul and his endless list of things that needed to be done before he could continue his painting. I was sure he was prolonging things in the hopes that I would help with the painting but, I had been trapped by him before and knew that I had to put my foot down and leave. Of course he went through his usual pouting routine when he didn't get his way but, to no avail.


My body felt itchy from the dust and drying sweat, and I was looking forward to a cool shower and perhaps, a long soak in the hot tub. As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed that the Nicholson's car was not in their driveway. `Hmm,' I thought. `They probably went to lunch after services.'

I was a little disappointed that Chris and Toby had not taken me up on my invitation to use the equipment in my home-gym and the hot tub. However, I knew that from their work, it was difficult for military men to do any advanced planning.

Admittedly, I had an ulterior motive in making the invitation. Like any red-blooded gay man, I had hopes of satisfying my lecherous desire to view more of their magnificent bodies, and what their almost twin sized, mouthwatering bulges suggested.

Seducing Chris, whom I would much prefer in bed, would probably not be as easy to seduce as Toby. Like most horny teenagers he would probably not refuse the chance to have their knob polished While I was not a boy-lover as such, Toby like any horny teenager would probably need very little prompting to engage in sexual games and but for his age, he was almost a physical duplicate of his father. `God,' I dreamed as the cool shower water flowed over my body, small rivulets cascading onto the crown of my blood-engorged cock. `A ménage `a trios' would be beyond expectations but one could dream.'

Thoughts of regret filled my head as I slowly stroked my cock while thinking of the pleasure that I had nixed when Paul offered me a drink. Paul and his phallus of doom in his king sized bed was an exciting experience that I had enjoyed often while we were a couple. I felt the pressure building in my groin and, I was on the verge of ejaculation when I heard my name called. For a moment, I stood stupefied, my steel hard cock throbbing in my hand. When I heard my name called again, I recognized Toby's voice. A flash of excitement combined with terror at the thought he might see me naked and in the ancient process of fulfilling a carnal need for self-satisfaction entered my mind. A fleeting feeling of panic rushed over me before I could answer.

"Toby, I...I'm in the shower," I said, hoping he would not notice there was a slight quiver in my voice. "Make yourself at home, and I'll be right out."

"Okay, Brett," Toby called back. "I'll be on the patio."


Quickly drying off, I slapped some Fleur Du Male by Jean Paul Gaultier body cologne on before pulling on a pair of shorts and a thin pullover. My mind was filled with a variety of different erotic scenarios' as I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops. For a brief moment, I wondered if he was alone, and if he was why Chris was not with him.

My nerves were jangling like a school boy on his first date as I almost ran to the sliding glass doorway that led from the kitchen onto the patio.

Toby was stretched out on a chaise lounge with his arms folded behind his head revealing a thickening growth of golden blond hair in his armpits. His eyes were closed, and his ankles were crossed. He was wearing an unbuttoned white short sleeved shirt that revealed the smooth well-developed muscles of his chest and his developing abdominal muscles. He was wearing a red, what some would call a bikini and not a swimsuit. The bulge in his crotch appeared to be magnified ten fold from what he had displayed earlier at the neighborhood cook-out, and there was a slight golden trail flowing downward from his innie naval to disappear under the waistband of his swimsuit.

His eyes opened as I slid the storm door screen open. Grinning broadly, he said, "Hi, Brett," as he swung his legs around and sat up. "I hope you don't mind if I use your first name. Dad would smack me for it but, I didn't think you would mind when it was just you and me."

"No, not at all," I replied, my eyes devouring the youthful beauty sitting before me as I asked. "Where are they?"

"They went to the mall. Dad's ship is leaving in the morning and there were some things he needed."

"I'm sorry to hear he is leaving." I replied, moving to sit on one of the bar stools that was close by the lounge. "How long will he be gone?"

"For at least six months," he answered with a faint tone of disappointment in his voice.

"That's quite a long time."

"Yeah," he replied as unthinkingly, he leaned to his left lifting his right butt cheek from the chaise wooden frame as he ran the index finger of his right hand under the suit's tight right leg hem, trying to loosen the suits tightness as he was speaking. "Mom and Clarisse have been crying almost non-stop ever since he told us he would be leaving."

"And what about you, Toby?" I asked, clasping my hands in front of me, covering the swelling in my crotch.

"Oh, I don't like it," he replied rather stoically. "But, it is his job, and there isn't a thing we can do about it."

"Women are more inclined to take a military man leaving more seriously," I said.

"I guess so," he said softly. "But, it seems like Mom cries every time Dad goes on operations even if it's only for a few days."

"She loves him, Toby," I said as I slid off of the stool asking, "Would you like a cold drink or a glass of ice tea?"

"Ice tea would be great, Brett," he said as he stood up. "No sugar."

"No sugar," I said, as I slid the screen door open, glancing over my shoulder to see if he was following me.

My heart seemed to skip a beat and my breathing quickened slightly as he slipped he thumbs under the waistband of his tight suit. His smooth, hairless chest expanded as he inhaled and, I saw the twin nipples of his chest muscles pressing against the thin fabric of his chest.

"The suit is a little tight," he said, grinning and snapping the elastic waistband back against his skin. "I've gained a few pounds."

I could have bit my tongue as I unthinkingly said, "It looks like it's more muscle than fat."

"I guess," he said as he casually adjusted the bulge in his crotch.

There was an impish glint in his brilliant blue eyes, and I could swear the bulge had increased in size.