West Otter Lake

Copyright© 2013 – Nicholas Hall

Chapter Fifteen

"Let him who neglects to raise the fallen, fear lest, when he falls, no one will stretch out his hand to lift him up." – (Saadi)

Leandro slowly eased his grip on the baseball bat when he realized who our visitor was. We now knew "who," but the "why" was yet to be revealed to us. I felt reasonably certain however, before the night was over, we'd know the answer to that particular part of the puzzle.

Walking around the end of the couch, seating myself on one end, habitually drawing one leg up under me, I waited patiently for Craig to speak. He resumed his gaze toward the placid, moon-lit lake in front of the Lodge, the reflected lunar brightness revealing his studied, concerned facial expressions as he struggled to find words to express his feelings. The silence was broken by the tinkling of ice in a glass as Leandro handed a Brandy Old-fashioned over the couch to me.

"Would you like something to drink, Craig?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, softly responding, "Whatever you're having is fine with me; although I prefer Brandy, if you have it."

Leandro handed him the Old-fashioned he'd fixed for himself and scurried off to fix another. Craig sipped the cold drink pensively, still remaining silent, but continuing to struggle internally with his thoughts and emotions. Leandro rejoined us, sitting on the floor in front of me, as he often did, his head resting against my leg and the couch.

Craig turned his attention to us then, looking first at me, then to Leandro, and back to me. "As you know, this is my first trip here and my introduction to you, Conner, as my cousin. Oh, I knew of you and the Resort from my parents, but the information was never presented in kind or generous terms, especially from my mother. Once, when I was probably twelve or so, I asked Dad why we never went to visit his parents at the Resort or the cousin that lived there. All he said was, `When I left, I thought it was a dead-end place in life; I met your mother, we married, and had no reason to return.' He shut up after that and I never asked again. Mother, on the other hand, thought the area was laced with depravity, populated with illiterates, uncultured oafs, and heathens, thus, wanted no part of it."

"When I decided to attend college, I chose not to attend the church school they'd picked out for me in the southern part of the state. I knew I could never be accepted there or feel comfortable and besides, I was getting damned sick and tired of the `holier than thou' groups and others mother associated with. Their particular brand of religion didn't quite match up with a God I sought; one that loved all people, no matter what they believed or who they loved, not just a special few. So, I went to San Francisco State University, in sunny California. I believed, and rightly so, I could get an excellent education and be in close proximity of others who felt and believed as I did without the prying eyes of judgmental family members close by."

Craig was fortunate to be awarded a couple of scholarships, although they were substantial and given from a foundation, they weren't in a sufficient amounts to pay the full tuition bill, and so he worked, and worked hard. After two years it was really becoming a struggle; he was an excellent student and maintained a 3.5 grade average, but he was wearing out from school and working jobs to stay in.

"I took a chance," he said quietly. "Why, I'll never really know, but I wrote a letter to Grandmother and Grandfather Johnson, introducing myself; explained my situation, in great detail I might add, and asked if I could borrow enough money from them to finish my last two years of college. I promised I'd work for them during the summers at the Resort and after I graduated in order to pay them back. Frankly, I never expected to hear from them; after all, I'd never met them and I assumed they'd only seen pictures of me, if that."

He was elated and overcome with emotion when he received a telephone call from Grandpa Johnson, the fall before he died, almost nine months before I came home to work. He and Grandpa had a long conversation concerning his personal goals, his likes and dislikes, and life-style. Evidently Grandpa felt strongly encouraged and confident in Craig and his answers since he promised Craig the money to continue his education, provided he continue to work part-time, but enroll in classes all through the next summer and finish mid-year.

When Grandpa Johnson died, Grandma called Craig, unbeknownst to me and discouraged him from cutting class to come to the funeral since he was scheduled to graduate at mid-term the next year, my first year back at the resort running it. When Grandma died in January, no one notified him. He sent a graduation announcement to her and when he heard nothing, he tried calling her at the Georgia home, but was informed the line was no longer in service.

I held up my hand to halt his narrative and looked up at the railing surrounding the balconied loft. "Ollie and Luis, you may as well come down here and join us. At least I won't have to worry about you pitching headfirst over the railing struggling to hear what we're talking about."

The two boys hurried down the stairs, dressed in sleep shorts and tee shirts, and almost ran into Leandro who'd taken the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to refresh our drinks. Ollie snuggled his way next to me on the couch, pulled my arm behind his head and over his shoulder, so he could comfortably rest his head on my chest. Luis plopped his pert little butt in between Leandro's legs, when he returned to his position on the floor in front of me, and leaned back, using Leandro's stomach and chest as a resting place.

Sipping my drink slowly, rolling the brandy taste around in my mouth, I swallowed, nodded my head, and pondered; "Craig, I have several questions to ask that I hope will clear up my thinking on all of this. When you learned the telephone to the Georgia home was no longer in service, why didn't you call here? You had the name of the Resort from the time you contacted Grandpa, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I called home first and was told by my mother the Resort had been sold to someone else. She didn't say it was to you, just it was sold. So I assumed Grandma had moved to someplace different. My family wasn't about to tell me anything different, I guess."

"Now that's pure horseshit," I muttered. "The very least they could've done was told you she passed away. When did you find out?"

"I was working part-time jobs on the coast, but wasn't having any success in my major field, so when the money ran out, I loaded what little I owned in my old pickup truck and drove home. Things didn't get any better while I was home either; things hadn't changed much."

Still perplexed, I pressed on; "When did you find out about the death of Grandma Johnson?"

"When you called my Dad, announcing the date of the memorial service, I first heard she was no longer with us. It was then I informed them I was going to the memorial service and wouldn't be coming back with them."

Unsatisfied yet that I was receiving the entire story, I pushed the envelope. "Just exactly why did you inform Uncle Rob you wouldn't return with them or am I missing something in this scenario?"

I had a pretty good idea what his answer was going to be, but I wanted him to say it himself. Ollie squirmed a little closer and, as horny teenage boys do, his male appendage starting to stretch his sleep shorts down his right thigh. He looked up at me, shrugged his shoulders, and adjusted his weapon so he was more comfortable. Whether his cousin noticed it or not, it's hard to say.

Scratching his head, rubbing his chin pensively, Craig sat a moment longer before responding to my latest question. "It really didn't happen quite that way," he murmured softly.

He was a deeply closeted and frustrated gay male in high school, unable to come out to his parents or anyone in his immediate family because of his mother's extreme, conservative, fundamentalist, and right-wing religious beliefs. All homosexuals, according to her, were sodomites, unnatural, ungodly beings who were destined to burn for eternity in the fires of Gehenna unless they repented. Even then she wasn't certain any redemption was possible. I suppose "once forbidden fruit is tasted," that sort of attitude. But, she hoped, if those deviants, those miscreants would undergo prayer and proper re-education therapy in a Christian sanctuary, there might be some hope.

So fervent was her belief, he remained fearful all through high school. Believing San Francisco would furnish him with the life style he secretly desired, he decided, much to his mother's dismay, to attend the university there, explaining to his parents his choice was based on the excellent educational program. He did have to promise to attend church regularly and avoid all occasions of sin. There was plenty of opportunity to attend to the pleasures of the flesh with other males in the gay community, but his deep-seated fear of discovery by his parents kept him chaste and a virgin, other than old mother thumb and her four daughters.

Instead of "debasing himself with debauchery" he enmeshed himself in the subject material and degree program, graduating with a Bachelor's Degree in Biological Science with Environmental Science emphasis. The job market "sucked" as he put it. "Conservative Republican business people don't want to be reminded their business practices may produce environmental harm and reduce their potential profits," he chuckled sardonically.

He worked at fast food restaurants, earning just enough to pay the rent and little else while searching for employment in his major field. Finally coming to the realization nothing was going to come his way, he took what money he had and drove his old pickup truck home, hoping to find employment during the summer. The week-long trip was arduous, especially since he slept in the truck and used his money for gas instead of motels, arriving home around the first of April.

It was when I called, announcing the memorial service, he and his parents had a "bit of a dust-up" as Mr. Wilcox would say. During the heated discussion concerning his parent's failure to notify him of Grandma Johnson's death, they learned he'd received money from them to complete his education and of his homosexuality. Craig's mother ordered him from the house until he could repent and change his ways. When he told her to "stuff it where the sun don't shine," she screamed, "Then go live with that sodomite son of Wesley's up at Otter Lake."

"So, that's what I did. I reloaded everything in my truck over a week ago, and started north; staying in rest areas and small parks on the way. I arrived in Otter Lake three days ago and have been sleeping rough at a county park near Parsonville."

Craig's eyes moistened, wiping away a tear with his hand, looked at me, pleading, "Conner, I've got seven bucks left in my wallet and I'm asking, no, I'm begging you, please let me stay awhile. I have no place else to go!"

Before I could reply to his request, Ollie reached up, pulled my head down next to his, whispering, "Say yes, please, Conner; he's family and no place else to go. There's room here, isn't there for him to live with us?"

How could I refuse such a passionate plea from my little brother? I'd already resolved to offer him a place to live and work, if he really wanted it. Wasn't my home already a place of refuge, where love grew, and hearts were open? Doesn't everyone deserve a place called "home;" where they are accepted for what they are, no more, no less and accept others the same way?

Raising my head from Ollie's fervent plea, I studied my cousin and saw myself, but without the support Grandpa and Grandpa Johnson had given me, but tried, in a financial way, to give to him. "Craig, you're welcome to live and work here as long as you wish. The work is hard; there's plenty to do. I don't pay the highest wages, but you'll have a bed, food, and us, if that's what you want. We're an odd ball family here at the Resort, but a happy one, I think."

He accepted my offer and hospitality with more thanks than I deserved. Ollie and Luis were almost asleep when we finished discussing what working at a resort during the summer involved, so I sent them off to bed while Leandro and Craig brought his clothes and personal items in from his truck. We settled him in the room the Twins had occupied before we moved them in next to Leandro and me. It might prove to be a problem, since the bathroom was shared, when Mae opted for her room back the next winter, but I figured we'd handle that at the time. Why worry about that now?

It was midnight when Leandro and I finally crawled into the sack. As tired as we were, we decided to pass on any strenuous conjugal activities. It was nice just to stretch my naked body full length on his, allowing our smooth, warm skin to flow together, sharing each other's heat and comfort. I loved to nuzzle his neck, peck lightly at his lips, and run my hands up and down his sides from hips to pecs and back as I relaxed my way toward sleep. This was one of those nights I fell asleep on top of my lover, his balls in one hand and his hard staff in the other. Life was good !

During the night I slipped off and woke in the morning on my side, Leandro's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to him, and his very stiff and twitching cock poking at my rear door, knocking as if to say "anybody ready for a visit?" but I heard little boys scampering through the bathroom, heading our way, so I pulled ahead a bit, forewarning him of any activity in which we might be compromised – dang it!

Terell and Treyvon's morning routine of waking us and crawling in bed for some conversation, a tickle and a hug was their way of starting the day, anchoring them to home and us while reassuring them of our love and protection. Little boys have that, well "little boy" smell about them in the morning; a combination of pleasant softness, mingled with a warm, soft scent of body, and not yet mildly musky as a teen boy would have. I loved having them wake us in the morning. After a couple of minutes of small talk and giggles, Terell (I think), crawled up on Leandro, stretched his short length on his body, placed his elbows on Leandro's chest, and asked, "What's for breakfast?"

Leandro feigned indecision and finally proposed, "Pancakes?"

That was perfect as far as the Twins were concerned, but it was Sunday and we always had pancakes for Sunday breakfast. Leandro moved him aside and crawled out of bed, his half-hard cock wobbling before him as he headed to the bathroom. After that first morning the boys crawled in bed with us, they never commented again about our nakedness or our penis size after the discussion comparing us to Ollie. The boys didn't seem to be embarrassed or awkward concerning our sleeping together nude; they just accepted it.

Leandro dressed and headed for the kitchen while I dressed and chatted with the boys. They were still in their jammies, but waited fairly patiently while I dressed, jabbering about the party and how the mean man said naughty things about their Uncle Reidel. I took their hands, leading them to their bedroom and then, since the opportunity was there, explained who Wesley Johnson was – my father and their father- and he really was a mean man. I didn't go into great detail since they didn't seem to have too many questions. The Twins just seemed happy the "mean man" was gone and hoped he never came back, "'cause you and Leandro would kick his ass so hard when he'd wipe his butt, he'd have to close his eyes." I wasn't about to ask where they heard that, but I'll bet it didn't come from Grandma Mae!

I laid out the clothes they were to wear, admonished them to wash their hands and brush their teeth, and before they came down to breakfast, wake Ollie and Luis. Leandro and Craig were already in the kitchen having a cup of coffee when I made it down there. I poured myself a cup, pulled up a chair next to Leandro, and was about to ask Craig how he slept, when in through the door came the twins, bouncing with energy and excitement. Their forward motion came to an abrupt halt when they spotted Craig at the table and, just as suddenly, I had a little boy tucked under each arm pit much like a mother hen sheltering her chicks.

Hoping to ease their anxiety and, at the same time, introduce our new family member in residence, I nodded toward him, saying, "Boys, this is your Cousin Craig; he's going to be living and working here. Craig, this is Treyvon and Terell; you'll have to work out which one is which."

"Well, little brothers, did you do as I asked and wake Ollie and Luis?"

Their eyes widened, exposing more white around their dark pupils more than anything else, it seemed to me. The whiteness contrasted with their chocolate brown skin, accentuating both as they waggled their heads slowly side to side, which I took as a "no."

"Why not; breakfast will be in just a few minutes?"

Terell, I think, standing up straighter so his mouth was in close proximity of my ear, answered in a not too soft sort of stage whisper, "Ollie wasn't in his room..." "he was in Luis room," continued Treyvon, I think.

"and he was in bed with him," offered Terell.

"Both were bare-naked," exclaimed Treyvon, eyes wide, trying to impress on me just how much flesh was exposed.

"and Ollie had his weanus stuck clear up Luis' butt..."

"and I'll bet it hurt, `cause it's really ginormous." Treyvon exclaimed, carrying on the revelation, "'cause..."

"Luis was making funny little noises..."

"and Ollie pushed way forward, stopped and yelled `yes' so,..."

"he must have heard Luis," finished Terell, "'cause he stopped, but his butt cheeks wiggled and got really tight."

It grew quiet in the kitchen; I dared not look at Leandro or Craig, fearful of my reaction and theirs once I did.

"I think they're boyfriends; like you and Leandro," one of the twins finally concluded, with satisfaction.

Well, that certainly explained why we were going through so much KY and waterless lube in the recent past. Ollie must be fucking the brains out of Luis and probably the reverse is true. Luis has been anxious to have a big cock up his butt for some time and now he has a boyfriend so equipped and evidently eager to oblige.

I cleared my throat and requested, "Why don't you boys run next door to the cottage and see if Grandma Mae wants to join us for breakfast?"

Once they were out the door, Leandro and Craig both burst out laughing.

"I'm going to bet Luis just might be a bit stretched," commented Leandro, giggling.

"Is it really `ginormous' or is that just little boy's point of reference?" Craig speculated.

Shaking my head, signifying it was just that, with a sigh, I responded, "No, not a point of reference; Ollie definitely packs some serious meat, but on his wiry frame, slim hips, and height, it looks a lot bigger than it probably is, but he certainly sports the "home of the whopper."

We shut up when Ollie and Luis sauntered casually into the kitchen and sat down. They both looked at us suspiciously, wondering why we'd become silent so quickly. I broke the silence; "You boys might want to lock your doors when you decide to sleep together. Your little brothers got quite an eyeful this morning."

"Oh my God!" moaned Ollie, laying his face in his arms down on the table.

Adding insult to injury, Leandro just had to ask Luis, "Did it hurt, little brother?"

Luis imperturbable as always, stood, wiggled his pert little butt at his brother, giggling, "Not after the first time! Breakfast ready yet, Conner?"

To be continued


Thank you for reading "West Otter Lake – Chapter Fifteen - "Let him who neglects to raise the fallen, fear lest, when he falls, no one will stretch out his hand to lift him up." – (Saadi)

Nick Hall


The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and are the property of the author.

Positive comments are welcome and appreciated at:  nick.hall8440@gmail.com.