Date: 31 Jul 2000 23:42:09 -0000
From: Mikey <mikey@maileditor.com>
Subject: Jordan's Story - 4

Author's note: Hey, you found this story in the Nifty gay archive site, so
you ought to know that it contains graphic adult male-male sex.  Hopefully,
it also has a story you will like.  If you aren't supposed to read this
stuff, please don't.  Otherwise, Enjoy.  Fantasies don't need protection,
real life does.  Play it safe.  Mikey

***

Nate's Home: (3/28/00)


Nate slammed on the brakes at the look on his face and reached out
anxiously.  "Oh god.  I'm sorry, Jordan.  It's okay.  That's my Dad's car."

Jordan gave Nate a horrified, betrayed stare.  "Your Dad's a cop?"  He
asked in a tight frantic voice.

"He's the Sheriff, Jordan.  It'll be okay.  Please.  Trust me?"

Nate held out his hand calmly, ignoring the hail from outside the truck as
the dogs and several people drew closer.

Jordan rubbed his eyes, then turned shakily to Nate.  "Okay."  He said
obediently.

Nate smiled.  "Good.  Come on and meet everyone."

Just then the door of the cab was yanked open and Nate flung himself out of
the truck on to the biggest man Jordan had ever seen.

"Hey Midget.  How're they hanging?"  Nate yelled.  Then he laughed as the
man grabbed him, hugged him roughly, and tossed him bodily to the next
person.

"Who're you calling midget, Gnat?  You shrink in that rainstorm the other
day?"  The deep voice rumbled.

Nate just laughed and hugged the older man behind his brother.

Jordan flinched back against the door, when a much bigger version of Nate
glared at him.  Where Nate was about six feet tall, this monster must be a
full six or seven inches taller and almost twice as broad as the trim, but
muscled, trucker.  But hair, eyes, and features were almost the same.
Except their expressions.  Nate almost always had a good-natured smile.
The monster was scowling like Jordan's Pa used to before he started
reaching for his belt.

The boy whimpered slightly as the man growled over his shoulder while one
huge hand reached for him.

"What's this, Nate?  Another one of your strays?"

He started to haul the boy out by his arm.  Jordan paled, but swallowed his
protest.

In a flash, Nate was back.  He jerked his brother back from the cab with a
hard tug, saying quickly, "Jordan.  It's okay.  He won't hurt you.
Promise."  He turned and glared at his brother.  "Brad, don't.  He isn't
used to playing like we do.  Be careful."

Brad looked startled, then grinned, his smile making him look even more
like Nate.  "Okay, Gnat.  Another one of your strays.  At least this one
doesn't look like it has fleas."  He smiled at the pale boy staring at him
from the cab of the truck and held out his hand.  "Hi kid, I'm Brad.
Nate's big brother."

Jordan swallowed and held out his hand cautiously, hoping he would still
have fingers when he brought it back.  "I can see that.  I'm Jordan."

Brad shook his hand carefully, exerting only enough pressure so the boy
would not think he was being babied.

Then a stern voice spoke up from behind the wall of Brad's back.

"Nate.  Why don't you get your young friend down and introduce him to the
rest of us."

It was not a question.  Nate gave Jordan a quick smile then jumped down.

"Yes sir.  Jordan, climb down and meet everyone."

Jordan steeled himself, then jumped down, determined not to show his fear.
He looked up into another Nate.  This one older and heavier, but it was
still obvious who Nate and Brad's father was.  Jordan was thankful that
Nate's Dad was not wearing his uniform.  But knowing that he was the
Sheriff was bad enough.

Nate's family studied the boy their exuberant brother had brought home with
him.  About 5'10", shoulders wide, hips narrow.  He had wiry muscles that
looked like they would fill out further when he finished growing.  His
brown hair was slightly shaggy and wind-blown.  His nose had been broken in
the past and had healed with a slight bump.  And he had a full-blown
shiner.  Jordan was eighteen, but his pretty face made him look a year or
two younger.  His face was pale beneath his tan, but determined.

Nate's father sighed inwardly.  This one looked like trouble.  But he
expected that from the impulsive Nate.  'I have the feeling that fleas and
peeing on the rug are the least of my problems with this one.  Something
tells me that a bath and a rolled up newspaper just aren't going to do the
job.'

Nate pulled Jordan over in front of his father and then announced to the
group of people clustered around them.  "This is Jordan.  Found him a ways
back headed down the road by himself.  I thought I'd bring him here for a
while until he gets his feet under him."

Nate's father met his son's eyes for a moment, and with long understanding,
got the message that there was more to the story than Nate wanted to share
with everyone right now.  He nodded once, then held out his hand to the
nervous boy.

"Pleased to meet you.  I'm Nate's father.  You can call me Mr. Blackmon or
Sheriff Blackmon, whichever you prefer."

Jordan shook his hand nervously, but politely.  "Yes sir.  I am Jordan."

The sheriff's eyes sharpened at the obvious lack of a last name, but he
trusted his son and was willing to wait.  He would get the information he
wanted sooner or later.

Nate grinned.  "That big lummox over there is my older brother, Brad.  He
ate all the food in the house and grew bigger than it."

Brad aimed a heavy hand at Nate's head, but dropped it quickly when Jordan
visibly started and paled.  Sheriff Blackmon added up the fading, but still
vivid, black eye with the startled reaction, and came up with an answer he
didn't like at all.  Nate frowned in warning at his brother and continued
the introductions.

"This is our younger brother, Mark, and his wife, Sheila."  The couple
smiled at him.  Mark wasn't more than a year younger than Nate and had the
same blond good looks as his brothers.  He was about the same size as Nate
and Jordan could see where the two of them could cause a lot of confusion.
It helped that Mark's eyes were gray and not the vivid blue of Nate's and
Brad's.  Sheila was a pretty, brown haired young woman who was just
starting to fill out in pregnancy.  Jordan guessed that Mark was probably
not gay.

"And these are the rest of the family, except for a cat or two."  Nate
swung his arm to include the assortment of dogs and cats that had gathered
around trying to get their share of attention.  Jordan looked slightly
confused as Nate tried to tell him the names of all of their pets.  He
thought there might be hundreds of them, but later realized that there were
four dogs and three cats.  To the boy who was not used to animals, it just
seemed like a lot more.  Overwhelmed, Jordan aimed a helpless look at the
enthusiastic Nate.

Nate's sharp-eyed father caught the unspoken plea and answered it.

"That's enough, Nate.  You're going to have the boy thinking all of us are
as crazy as you.  Now why don't we head inside, get some dinner, and you
can catch us up to date."

Nate smiled and jerked his head towards the house.  "Sounds good to me.
Jordan is always ready to eat."

Jordan trailed after the pack as they made their way into the house.  There
was a big dining room off of the kitchen with a huge homemade table and an
assortment of chairs and benches around it.  Jordan found himself pushed
towards the sink to wash his hands with Nate and Brad, then hustled to the
table.

Brad went to the oven and pulled out several large dishes.  He uncovered
them and put them on the table.  A very thick beef stew, fresh hot bread,
tons of potatoes, and some beans made a filling meal.

Nate dove in, and after burning his mouth on the stew, complimented Brad.
"Hey guy.  I was dreaming of your cooking after a week on the road."

Jordan looked up, startled.  Nate caught the motion and grinned.

"Yeah, you'd never guess he's a real professional chef at a fancy
restaurant, by looking at the brute, would you?"

Jordan swallowed quickly and stammered his thanks as well.

Brad grinned.  "When you like eating as much as I do, it only makes sense
to learn to cook.  Besides, as big as I am, no one criticizes my cooking to
my face.  You want to go on a diet, then let Nate cook.  You'll lose
weight.  Otherwise, I feed you up good.  You could use a little feeding."
He said critically.

Jordan flushed and looked at Nate.

Nate smiled at his brother.  "Yeah, but you should see him throw the
pigskin.  It's enough to make Coach Green live up to his name at the
thought of that much talent dropping out of school."

Sheriff Blackmon frowned and set his fork on his clean plate.

"When you are done eating, Nate, I'd like a word with you in my den."

Nate nodded, unfazed.  He knew he was in for a long questioning and did not
mind.  Jordan needed all the help his father could get for him.  As Nate
rose, Jordan looked up anxiously.

Brad and Mark caught the boy's dependence on their brother and exchanged a
frown.  They each hoped silently that impulsive Nate had not bitten off
more than he could chew with this one.  Bringing home stray dogs was one
thing, stray boys another.

It didn't matter, though.  They had spent most of their lives either
keeping Nate out of trouble, or dealing with it when the unavoidable
happened, as it always did with Nate.  They would protect him this time
also.  They set themselves to keeping the boy busy until they found out
what was going on.

Sheila packed what few leftovers there were, while the men cleared the
table and kitchen.  Jordan quickly proved adept at washing dishes, or at
least rinsing them and shoving them somewhat haphazardly in the modern
dishwasher under the sink.  When they finished clearing the table and
cleaning up, Brad looked over at Mark.

"What time is the game on today?"  He rumbled in his deep voice.

Mark glanced at his watch and grinned.  "Perfect timing.  Come on, runt.
Let's go see if those fumble fingered apes can't manage to win a game for a
change."

Jordan nodded.  "Yes sir."  He agreed.

Brad snorted and Mark shook his head.  "I'm Mark.  Dad's sir."

Jordan smiled suddenly, for the first time since they had arrived at the
house.  "That's what Nate says, too."

Mark and Brad exchanged a quick glance.  This kid was entirely too pretty.
Now they began to worry silently about their somewhat vulnerable brother.
Maybe Nate had not done anything to get himself into real trouble.  But he
was certainly taking long enough with their father, and that was not good.

***

"Damn it, Nate!  How could you be so stupid!  Can't you think with anything
besides what's between your legs?"

Nate flinched as his father flushed in anger and continued to chew him out.

"You find a runaway kid who says he's not a minor.  But sure as hell looks
young.  You say he told you he had been sexually and physically abused.
And you jump into bed with him?"

Nate turned red.  'I didn't mean to.' was not an excuse that his father had
ever accepted readily.  He did not think that he would start now.

"I know, Dad.  I knew it was stupid and irresponsible, but Jordan was so
upset.  I just wanted to comfort him and one thing led to another.  I'm
sorry."

Mr. Blackmon threw up his hands.

"I know.  You're always sorry when you dive in without looking first.  But
it doesn't seem to slow you down much!"

Nate hung his head, then looked up.

"Dad, can you help the kid?  He's not bad, no matter what he thinks.  That
bastard father of his has him convinced that he is worthless and that no
one would possibly want him."

Mr. Blackmon sighed.  "Yeah.  I'll deal with it first thing in the
morning."

Nate nodded his head.  "Thanks, I told him he could help unload the truck
and wash it to pay for his ride."

His father rolled his eyes in disbelief.  "You'd have to drive me a long
way to get me to volunteer for that back breaking work."

Nate grinned.  "I know.  But he insisted he had to pay me and it was the
only thing I could think of quickly."

His father chuckled, then sobered.  "Tell Brad to help you two.  I don't
want you alone with the boy.  He does not put one foot in your apartment
unless one of the rest of us is there.  Understand?  All it takes is one
accusation of rape and you are going in to work with me.  But you will be
on the wrong side of the bars."

Nate nodded regretfully.  "Yes sir.  I guess people around here know what I
am.  And they are awfully quick to condemn."  He smiled at his father.
"Thanks, Dad.  I knew I could count on you."

"Get out of here and bring in that new stray of yours.  I need to talk to
him.  This one better be house broken, or you'll be living in the barn with
the lot of them."  His father growled affectionately.  Nate laughed and
darted out to find Jordan.

Jordan listened to the brothers' commentary about the game and the players
with fascination.  He had been raised alone, with just his abusive father
and had not been allowed to visit his classmates at their homes.

He had never met a family like this before.  They were openly affectionate.
He watched Sheila curl into Mark's side, to be hugged close under his arm.
Mark was arguing good-naturedly with his brother who filled up the love
seat over the merits of the past few quarterbacks.  He stayed quietly on
the recliner and did not contribute unless they asked him a direct
question.

Finally, Nate returned and gestured to him.  Nate took him to his father's
den and then pushed him gently inside with a reassuring smile and a quick
pat on the rump when no one could see.

"Sit down, Jordan."  The Sheriff said.  He spoke calmly, "My son tells me
that you are running away from home.  Why don't you tell me about it in
your own words."

Jordan paled.  Pa had always told him that the cops would take him away and
send him to a juvie prison if they caught him.  He should be too old for
that now that his birthday was past.  He just wasn't sure.  But he trusted
Nate as much as he did anyone in his short, rough life.  He looked down at
his hands and wiped them against his jeans.  Then he told Sheriff Blackmon
the same story he had told Nate just a few days ago.

He told them how his father had given him to his boss at the lumberyard,
Mr. Smith, a fat, unpleasant man, when he was just thirteen.  His hesitant
voice reflected his shame at the years of abuse that followed.

Jordan did not look up when he told them about one of the women in town
catching him giving a blowjob to that man.  She had made a loud fuss over
what she saw.  Especially after Smith, startled, shot his load all over her
when Jordan dived out of the office and ran.  He quietly admitted to
hitting his father with a piece of wood when the man, drunk and angry, had
turned from beating him to trying to rape him.  He had escaped just in
time.

He fell silent, waiting, inwardly numb, for the rejection he knew was
coming.  He finally raised his head to meet the Sheriff's calm eyes.  The
Sheriff's words surprised him.

 "Jordan, my son tells me that the two of you had relations while you were
at the hotel.  He knows he was wrong and will not try that again.  I have
told him that he will not be alone with you for any reason.  I will need
some more information from you, then I can contact the authorities in your
town and find out what has happened there during the last few days."

Jordan flushed at the Sheriff knowing that he had had sex with Nate.
However, he was determined that Nate would not take all the blame.

"Sir, it wasn't Nate's fault.  I touched him and wouldn't stop when he said
it was wrong.  Don't punish him.  Punish me."  He said bravely, even though
he was obviously afraid.

Nate's head flew up, and his mouth opened.  His father held up a hand to
stop his denial.

"Well he managed to leave out that piece of information, but that does not
change anything.  He is, at least age wise, a fair bit older than you.
Even if he wasn't acting like it.  Same rules still apply.  And I am not
going to punish either one of you.  I seldom find it necessary."

Sheriff Blackmon questioned Jordan thoroughly, getting the names and
addresses of all involved.  He took notes as the boy spoke.

Jordan did not have any relatives that he could be sent to, except his
father.  And that was out of the question.  It was a choice of sending him
to Social Services, or keeping him here.  At eighteen, he was too old for
the juvenile center.  They would just dump him out on the street until his
case was through, or more likely, he disappeared.

Not a hard decision for the tough, but compassionate, man who had raised
three boys by himself after his wife died in a car accident when Mark and
Nate were toddlers.

"Jordan, if you want, you can stay here while I work on this."  He held up
a hand to forestall the eager agreement he saw in the boy's face.  "There
are rules you must follow, or you will have to leave.  You mind me and the
boys.  You will have chores just like everyone else.  You keep out of any
further trouble.  And you stay out of Nate's apartment, and more
importantly, his bed.  Understand?"

Nate flushed bright red at the last rule.

Jordan stared carefully at the Sheriff, then nodded slowly.  "Yes sir.  I
won't cause any trouble."

Nate smiled in relief.  Jordan would be safe here.

The Sheriff frowned and leaned against his fingers thoughtfully.

"School started a while back, but we shouldn't have any trouble getting you
enrolled.  What grade are you in?"

Jordan flushed and squirmed in the hard chair.  "I was in 10th grade when
Pa decided I didn't need to go anymore and could work full time at the
lumberyard."  His voice dropped in embarrassment, "But I was failing.  I'm
too dumb to get through high school.  Pa said it was a waste of time for me
to go."

'Wow, that's a really accurate description of Pa.' Jordan thought the
obscene comment Nate spat out.

The Sheriff just frowned harder.  "Why don't you plan on going in to our
high school and we will let the counselor test you and see where you
belong.  I seriously doubt that you are stupid.  You just haven't had a
chance to see what you could really do."

"Yes sir."

Jordan looked dubious, but nodded obediently.  'They'll find out soon
enough just how dumb I am.  No sense asking for extra trouble.'

When his dad finished grilling Jordan, Nate took him back out to the living
room.  He told his brothers the boy would be staying with them for a while.
Actually with their father.  All three had their own places and only stayed
over occasionally.  They gave him Mark's old room.

That night, Jordan lay awake for quite a while, thinking over all the
events of the past few days that had so changed his life.  He couldn't wait
to see what happened next.  Lying between the clean sheets, he dreamed
about Nate and the way he had introduced him to the good side of sex.
Bright blue eyes and soft golden hair filled his dreams...

---

Nuzzling into Nate's furry chest, the fur still damp from his shower.
Licking the flat nipple and feeling it contract beneath his eager tongue.
A wonderfully flat, hard stomach and furry balls that tasted so good."

"Wrapping his fingers around the eight-inch shaft and sliding down until he
could taste the broad, cut head of Nate's cock.  Sucking on it, laving the
slit at the end, sliding it into his hot mouth as far as he could.

Nate's fingers in his hair, caressing and stroking gently.  Nate's hoarse
moans of pleasure when he got his first taste of that hard, muscular ass.
The wonderful smell and taste of burying his tongue all the way inside the
puckered hole until it quivered.  Sucking frantically on Nate's throbbing
cock.  Sliding his fingers deep inside that warm hole until he got his
first taste of cum shooting down his throat.  The sweet creamy load that he
gulped eagerly.

Feeling Nate's throat close around his own meat and cumming for his first
time with someone else.  Spurting down Nate's mouth, then Nate eating his
ass until he was writhing uncontrollably.

The brand new sensation of burying your own cock up to the pubes in your
friend's ass and learning that having a huge cock filling your own ass
could feel better than anything you had ever dreamed of.

The feeling of knowing that the person you were with wanted to share his
enjoyment with you, not rape, not hurt.  Just touch and kiss and thrust and
thrust and thrust....

---

Jordan woke with his hips pumping against the mattress.  He reached his
hand into his shorts and muffled his moans in the pillow as he quickly
jerked off.  He was just awake enough to grab the washcloth he had used the
night before.  Wrapping it in his hand, he caught his hot cum so that he
wouldn't get a beating when Pa checked his sheets and underwear in the
morning.

It was not until his breathing slowed, that he realized where he was, and
that Pa wasn't coming here.  He grinned, and started stroking again.  But
he was.

This time he went slowly, enjoying the knowledge that he did not have to
hide and listen for heavy footsteps.  His fingers curled around his erect
cock.  He slowly stroked from the tip to the base, curling around his balls
and gently rolling them in his hand, before sliding back up.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them for a second,
getting them nice and wet.  He circled the sensitive head beneath the layer
of skin, teasing the slit until that first drop of precum oozed out.  He
cupped his balls in the other hand as he began to jerk faster.

Remembering how much he enjoyed Nate's fingering his asshole, he slid the
two middle fingers of his hand from his balls to his hole.  Then wiggled
until they were embedded to the knuckles.  Pushing hard, he could just
reach the hard lump of his prostate and began to stroke.

It did not take long for his breathing to quicken to a pant and from there
for him to cum again.  The thick ropes of milky fluid coated his hand and
the washcloth that he covered it with.

Curiously he raised his hand to his mouth and tentatively licked at it.  He
thought about the taste of Nate's cum and the taste of his own in Nate's
mouth.  'It's okay.  But I like it much better if flavored with Nate.'

He fell asleep again, thinking of the blond man and how he had taught him
to enjoy his body.

Jordan decided that he wanted Nate despite the Sheriff's orders.  'Now, how
can I get him?'


Enjoy,

Mike.

Ps, I love email.  Hint, hint.

My email address is: mikey@maileditor.com
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