West Otter Lake 17

West Otter Lake

Chapter Seventeen

"Nature fits all her children with something to do..."- (James Russell Lowell)

Morning was coming earlier than usual I was beginning to think, since my family and lover joined me at the Resort. It came particularly early every day since the Twins took it upon themselves, now habitually, as their sacred and bound duty to awaken Leandro and me in the morning. The sun was lighting the landscape outside the Lodge earlier each day as spring aged with summer looming in the not too distant future.

This Monday morning, before the Resort and Campground opened on Saturday for the season, was still a school day for the boys. Leandro and I, both awake, repressing our urge to fuck each other's brains to a blinding, numbing, heart-stopping, orgasmic climax of thunderous proportion, waited patiently for Terell and Treyvon to bound through the connecting bathroom door from their room to ours and pounce, like young fox pups attacking a mouse, on our bed, amidst giggles and chuckles. We waited; we waited; we waited, until, sure enough, in they came, hopping like meadow frogs (not green, but brown, lovable ones) from the end of the bed to our chests, where they quickly burrowed under the covers, between Leandro and me, their pajama-clad little, warm bodies snuggled up to our nakedness.

Raising his eyebrows in speculation, Leandro asked fondly, "Over sleep, Little Ones?"

"Nah," one answered.

"We had to wake up Craig first," the other spouted determinedly.

"He sleeps naked..."

"..just like you and Leandro do, Conner," continued the first.

Lifting the covers, Terell, I think, peered intently underneath before saying, "His weanus is about the same size as yours Conner, "'cept it doesn't have a bunch of skin around the top, like Leandro."

The cheeky little shit then reached down with his small hand, wrapped it around my cock, and squeezed it so the head began to swell!

"It looks just like this, doesn't it Treyvon?"

Of course then Treyvon just had to poke his head under the covers and, laying his head on my belly in order to get a better look, replied, "Yep!" as his brother kept a death grip on my swelling cock, growing I should imagine from the stimulation and the fact that I still hadn't gotten up to take a piss yet.

"Why doesn't it have the skin?" questioned Terell.

I quickly disentangled myself from the small brown hand encasing my penis and pulled both boys up so they could look at me and avoid the fucking, stupid, shit-eating grin plastered all over Leandro's face.

"That's because he's circumcised like me," I replied in what I hoped was my best mature voice, but it cracked just a bit as I felt a small toe began wiggling around my ball sack.

"Why would you guys go to a circus to have your weanus changed?" asked Treyvon as I felt another set of toes, from the opposite direction, flex up against my "weanus."

"We didn't go to the circus; it's what the procedure is called when the doctor removed that skin, the foreskin, from our penis' when we were little and stop that wiggling around, both of you!"

"Why?" was the incredulous response from both boys.

"Do you mean why the doctor did it or why you should quit wriggling?"

"Doctor!" and they both jiggled me again, just for good measure I think, before they moved their feet.

I tried to think of some logical reason the boys would understand and I knew Craig was not Jewish, so I said simply, "Because his mom and dad thought it was the thing to do." I expected them to ask about my biological father and mother, but they diverged to a simpler statement.

"Why?"

"Ask Craig sometime," Leandro piped up. "I'm certain he'd be more than willing to explain it to you or, perhaps you could ask Grandma Mae."

Well, there was no way in hell the boys were going to talk to their grandmother about that subject – end of conversation!

The Twins wanted to take cold lunch for some reason or other (I suspect because they could eat faster and go outside for recess sooner) so it meant packing lunch boxes with sandwich, fruit, cookie for dessert, carrots and celery. I did the lunches while Leandro fixed breakfast. Ollie and Luis were having hot lunch so that spared me packing two more. Craig just sat back, drinking his coffee, watching the morning frenzy, soaking it all in and enjoying every bit of the give and take and boy banter in the kitchen.

We hustled the boys through breakfast; they loved to dawdle and would sit and yack until they had to run to catch the bus, if we let them. I admonished them to stop and give Grandma Mae a hug on the way to the bus stop and shooed them out the door.

"Is it always this busy in the morning, Conner?" Craig inquired hesitantly.

"Normally on Mondays only, especially after a busy weekend such as we just had; the boys just seem to want to stick around home. I think they really love school but they also love being home and with us, so they struggle, sometimes, on Monday with conflicting feelings. They'll get over it as they get older and more accustomed to realizing we'll still be here after school. I know I often felt that way and was always tickled pink to see Grandpa and Grandma Johnson when I came home from school every day."

I smiled, filled a cup with coffee for me and one for Leandro, and joined Craig at the table. "Understand you had a couple of visitors this morning?"

"Yeah; surprised the shit out of me when they came bouncing into my room. I really didn't know what to think when they crawled in bed with me and snuggled up against me." He sipped on his coffee and furled his forehead in a frown, "Did you know, according to Treyvon, my cock is not as big as Ollie's `cause his is ginormous,' smaller than Luis and Leandro, but the same size as yours, Conner?"

I swallowed quickly, trying very hard not to laugh out loud.

"Also, it doesn't have a bunch of skin covering the end like everyone else! Honest to God, Conner, I was dumbfounded when Terell reached down, grabbed it, wiggled it back and forth and invited Treyvon to take a look. It was then I told them to go wake you instead, I had to go to the bathroom."

"Get used to it," ventured Leandro. "They are a couple of curious, uninhibited, busy, and loving little boys. God help us when they get to high school; gay or straight, whoever they attach themselves to will certainly have an enlightened life."

Puzzled, I asked, "Craig, how in hell can you tell Terell from Treyvon? I don't have a clue and I'm their brother!"

"It's easy," he responded confidently, "once you know the secret!"

The appearance of Mae changed the topic of conversation. Craig and Leandro were going to start putting in boat docks while Mae and I went to Parsonville. Since everyone at the Resort, except me, was new this year, I wanted name tags for each. I also felt it was time we upgraded appearances so I wanted to buy uniform short-sleeved work shirts for everyone. Mae would help me with the Twin's sizes and herself. I knew Ollie's and Luis; Leandro took a size bigger than me and Craig the same size. The shirts we could get at one of the big box stores and the plastic name tags at an athletic sports store. We also needed some groceries, so I pulled the list off of the refrigerator.

"Pick up some batteries for the two-way radios!" Leandro shouted at us as we headed out the door.

We were back home before lunch and I noticed on our arrival, the beer man had been there delivering cases of canned beer and the parcel delivery service left several large boxes of merchandise for the gift shop. After lunch, I helped Leandro and Craig with the docks while Mae unpacked and checked the order for the gift shop against the invoice and then shelved the various items on the display racks. The various sweatshirts, t-shirts, caps, jackets, and other clothing items all had the Resort logo and name on it, so she expropriated a light jacket for each of us to wear when it was cool or in the evening when the mosquitoes were thick. She charged them off to "advertising" in the accounts ledger. I thought it was a tremendous idea; again, identifying the staff and, hopefully, giving us all a bit more pride in our service to our guests.

It took us two days to get the docks in place and mark out the swimming area with buoys and a rope line. The small beach used by the swimmers was raked and various leftovers of winter's flotsam were carted away. The campground dock was the last we put in since we had to maneuver it down a rather narrow trail to the lake. The campers, who brought their own boats, seemed to like the rustic nature of the area, so we kept it that way. Each of the cabins has a marked mooring spot on one of the docks so they would have easy access to their boats. A boat, but no motor, came with each cabin rental, but we didn't move the boats to them until we found out if the cabin guest desired to use our boat or brought their own.

Mae had the gift shop ready and the bar well-stocked. By Wednesday, we were all dragging. Thursday and Friday were spent making last minute checks of cabins, campgrounds, and equipment. The final inspection and check was made on the reservations received and marking the white board indicating occupied cabins and campsites.

The boys were so excited Friday night in anticipation of opening weekend, I didn't think they'd sleep, but they did. I hummed a genital tune on Leandro's cock and after he erupted in song, he pounded a tune or two up my musical chute. We slept, linked together, quite well ourselves, thank you very much!

Saturday morning and we had all hands on deck after breakfast; each of us in our new uniform shirts, name tags proudly displayed. One thing for certain, now I could tell Terell from Treyvon as long as they had their name tags on. The boys were about to burst with pride. Ollie just grinned the entire time. He really, really was going to take to the resort business I thought by watching the amount of pride he exhibited as he moved about the Lodge.

"There will be a few guests who might be here by noon," I announced, "but most of them will flood in between three and five, so we'll be really busy then. Ollie and Luis, stay on the docks; Terell and Treyvon, stick with Grandma Mae in the office. She'll need your help checking available campsites and showing our guests to their cabins and campsites."

Lunch was sandwiches and milk as we waited for our first guests to arrive. At one o'clock, the first camper arrived and then another, and our cabin guests began to show up. There were a few glitches but not many. The only real big problem we had was when a camper with a rather rough looking crew arrived without reservations. They had two rather large pit bulls in the motor home and when I informed them we didn't allow pets, the biggest and ugliest guy, snarled, "Well, fuck you then, asshole!"

I was about to respond, but Mae stepped up, smiled, and asked softly, "Did you learn those words at your mother's knee? I'm certain she's really proud of how well you express yourself, so why don't you just take your dogs out of here and copulate with them someplace else?" and with a dismissive wave of her hand, sent him out the door.

Silence is golden, so it's said, so I said nothing – Mae said it all!

Craig opened the bar around supper time and Mae closed the gift shop at eight, although all other days we closed at five. By nine o'clock, we had four boys who were all in but their shoe laces; in fact Terell and Treyvon fell asleep on one of the couches in the Great Room and Craig and I had to carry them up to bed. We stripped them to their boxers, put them in bed and watched as they immediately, subconsciously, gravitated toward each other, seeking the comfort, closeness, and security of an identical being, and let them sleep.

As far as I was concerned, it was one of the best openings of the season I'd seen in a long time. The Resort and Campground seemed to be a happy, relaxing, welcoming place to be for all who came to it. Leandro and Craig accommodated cabin and campground guests by the skillful, expedient, cheerful, and courteous launching of boats, mooring them, starting motors, and diplomatically moving camper's boats from the cabin docks to the campground dock.

Ollie and Luis smiled the entire time they worked with guests; selling bait, fuel, and good will. It seemed as though not a stranger came down the lane and out on the dock as the boys greeted him or her with warmth that relaxed our guests. The impatience of overly enthusiastic guests, anxious to get on the lake and fish, seemed not to rattle them in the least. Ollie and Luis scampered and scurried up and down the dock making certain our customers were well served. By the looks of their tip jar each night, the guests appreciated the service they received.

Who couldn't help but love those little, precocious, twins, as they fluttered about, chattering like young blue jays, skipping and hopping around the campground, running errands for Mae, helping campers locate campsites and answering questions;

"Where can I buy wood?" "How much do you want? I'll bring you some."

"Where can I buy bait?" "My brother sells it up at the bait shop near the Lodge."

"There's no toilet paper in the biffy." "We'll put some in right away, thanks for telling us," and so on all day. By Sunday the questions were fewer, but the boys were still actively working the campgrounds. Their pockets jingled with tips by Sunday night and they were so, so proud. They earned their own money; what a grown-up feeling that is.

Mae; well, she was Grandma Mae to everyone and so she would be from then on. There wasn't a guest, old and young alike, who wouldn't walk barefoot in the snow for Mae, if she but asked. Of course, having a steady supply of home baked cookies on a plate in the office might have had something to do with it, but I doubt it.

Craig opened the bar and, through some unspoken rule, or maybe his gregarious personality and disarming smile contributed to it, but we had absolutely no problems. In fact, people treated it as if they were having a libation with an old friend in his home and not a bar. They'd sit, quietly visiting, looking out the big windows at the lake, or gazing at the fire Craig had going in the stone fireplace. It was great and made me feel better, now I had four boys sleeping upstairs.

Night duty was split between the three of us. One of us would make our last round through the campground between eleven and midnight, just to check on things. Quiet hours began at ten and we found most of our campers were quick to comply. I could only hope the rest of the season went as well.

The boys still had school until the first week of June, so on Monday they were off to another day, tired, but happy and just a little more flush in cash than they were on Friday. We covered their duties during the week until they got home from school. Boys need time to play too, but Ollie and Luis were always eager to get to the docks. It was more than just the tips, it was a feeling of ownership, of belonging, but Mae insisted homework, piano lessons, and practice came first. She generally had the Twins practice first and then near supper, Ollie. Ollie's piano practice, usually as darkness began to settle in and the dock business calmed down, became quite a draw for the bar crowd. Sales in wine, beer, and very few mixed drinks increased as families would come in to listen to him. Good and generous Ollie shared the tips with his boyfriend, because, as he stated, "Luis covers for me on the dock when I have lessons or practice."

We all had a purpose now and that was important for a growing family.

I promised Ollie and Luis I'd take them trout fishing, so the next Sunday, before dawn, I slowly slipped out of bed, dressed, and quietly padded my way down to Ollie's room. I tested the door, found it unlocked, and made a mental note to remind the boys about locking the door. Peering in, I noticed his bed was empty. I walked through the connecting bathroom to Luis' room and observed the two of them, naked, arms wrapped about each other, Luis' head on Ollie's chest, resting in the innocence of love. I must admit, that half-brother of mine had a lovely ass, as I gazed at him, flat on his back, his stiff cock laying on his stomach, stretching past his naval. The Twins were right; it was `ginormous.'

Coughing lightly to alert them of my presence, I murmured, "Boys it's time to get up."

They both stretched, smiled, and when Luis rolled over, it was quite evident he had nothing to be ashamed of either. I could easily understand why ancient Greeks admired and loved the young boys and men of their land. They were in the process of dressing when I went down to the kitchen to fix us a snack to eat while we fished. I fixed a couple of sandwiches for each of us, filled a thermos with hot coffee for me, and retrieved a couple of cold sodas from the fridge for the boys. I put everything in a small Musset bag of Grandpa Johnson's he'd given me many years before for just such a purpose.

The boys, dressed in long pants, long-sleeved shirts, and jackets walked sleepily into the kitchen. "We're going down the road about a half mile to a nice creek people seldom fish because it sets back from the road. It eventually ends up flowing into the lake, but there are some nice pockets that hold some great brook trout."

The wood ticks, brought out by the warming temperature each day, were really becoming pesky, so I sprayed the boys well with insect repellant, cautioning them to reapply it every now and then to keep them at bay. The repellant wouldn't stop all of them, but it would reduce their attachments to our bodies. We picked up spinning rods and tackle and trekked down the county road until I came to the faint path leading to the creek. The walk was nice, the sun was just coming up, and the woods were coming alive with the twits, twitters, and warbles of song birds.

At the creek, I attached small Mepps® spinners to our lines, showed the boys how to cast them, where to place the bait for most exposure, and the proper retrieval. "If the spinners don't work," I explained, "I brought some night crawlers."

The spinners worked just fine and we caught enough firm, thick, pink-fleshed brook trout for breakfast. The experience literally hooked them on trout fishing as it had me years before when Grandpa Johnson took me for the first time. Surprisingly, they had very few ticks crawling around on them, so it was no problem picking them off.

The fish, along with fried potatoes, and eggs made the perfect breakfast. The twins, disappointed they weren't taken along, were eager to go fishing too, so I promised them the next weekend we would go fishing, but for something different. That seemed to satisfy them. Leandro helped out by asking if the twins would be willing to help him and Craig clear some brush down near the campground. They were eager and willing to help. Unfortunately, in their haste to finish up and join Leandro, I failed to caution them about wood ticks.

By lunch time, the work was done and the twins were well worn out. Ollie came to the Lodge to gather up some lunch to take back for Luis and him.

"It's gotten real busy, so I told Luis I'd bring out our lunch. We can eat it down there," then, looking at Terell, exclaimed, "Terell, you have a big fat wood tick attached to the back of your neck," and left the room.

Treyvon, stood, looked at his brother, spotted the tick and squealed, "Yuck! It's a big fat one Terell. It's kind of all swoll up though."

Terell yelped and reached a hand back to dislodge the bug.

"Don't touch it!" I admonished. "I'll get him for you. You don't want to pull him off and leave the head in. It could get infected."

Craig took the Twins up to their room to strip them while I picked up the first aid kit from the office. He was just slipping the undershorts off of Terell when I walked in, so I did the same to Treyvon. The boys each had a dozen or so ticks either attached or crawling about their bodies; on their tummies, around the waistband, and down their inner thighs. Luckily, I keep their hair cut quite short, so the heads presented no problem.;

Bless their hearts, they stood patiently, not complaining, as Craig and I used tweezers to extract the ticks and then wipe the wound with an antiseptic. Once we had all we could see, I instructed the boys to bend over and touch their toes. I spread one set of sweet little ass cheeks and checked for ticks while Craig did the other boy. Once satisfied they were clean I said simply, "On your backs, lift your legs and spread'em."

No ticks on Terell, but Treyvon, well, that was a different story. Just behind his marble-sized balls, tucked up tight in his scrotum close to his body, buried in the perineum of this pre-pubescent boy, was a wood tick. When I told him, his eyes popped open wide, a look of terror present in them. Reassuring him it'd cause him no permanent damage, I asked Craig to lift Treyvon's wiggly worm and balls out of the way so I could remove the tick. I gently pulled it loose, applied antiseptic, and gave his little butt a gently slap.

"All better," I pronounced, standing up.

When Craig removed his hand, Treyvon was boned up, to a full four inch spike; the slightly pink head contrasting with the darker brown of the rest of his shaft, as it poked free of his foreskin. Craig looked at me, shrugged, and stood up.

"Clean clothes," I ordered, "and before you go outside every day, spray yourselves with insect repellent and check for ticks."

Craig and I walked back downstairs to the kitchen. Just before entering it, he tapped me on the shoulder, "I think the twins inherited their cock size from the Thompson side of the family. They sure as hell didn't get it from our side." He paused a moment, "I don't think that Ollie will be the only one with a `ginormous' weanus someday."

To be continued

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Thank you for reading "West Otter Lake – Chapter Seventeen - "Nature fits all her children with something to do..."- (James Russell Lowell)

Nick Hall

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