I don't usually post in HTML but because of the large amount of internal dialogue in this story I felt it was necessary to show what the person is thinking by using italics.
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I don't usually post in HTML but because of the large amount of internal dialogue in this story I felt it was necessary to show what the person is thinking by using italics.
Disclaimer: Being posted on this site constitutes all copyright privileges. If you don't know the laws about reading this kind of material stop now and familiarize yourself with those laws before proceeding.
Chapter One

God! My little brother is so fuckin' hot!, Jared thought as he spied on him—out of the corners of his eyes—while Drew undressed following his afternoon jog.

Jared glanced at his brother as he raised his T-shirt over his head, momentarily "blinding" Drew from his brother's lust-filled inspection. The sweat wet armpit hair matted itself against the rice white skin of his underarms. The tawny sun-tanned chest was home to Hershey Kisses sized nipples. The hirsute arrow, beginning at just below his naval, was pointing to his brother's secret pleasure trove. And then the shirt was off.
"Gonna take a quick shower before dinner," Drew said, as he shucked out of his jogging shorts and jockstrap in the same movement.
With Drew in the half-bent over position, Jared was also able to steal a glance at his brother's seemingly ever-growing trio of treasures. God what I wouldn't give, he thought.
"Don't wanna stink up the table with my sweaty crotch smell." Then Drew giggled like he had just heard someone fart .
I love the aroma of fresh sweat, Jared thought. Instead he warned, "Hurry, dinner's almost ready and Mom's cranky, tonight."
"What's new?" Drew groused. "It's like she's been on the rag for three years, now."
"Yeah, ever since I turned fifteen," Jared said. "But she's been even more moody for the last three weeks." They gave each other a look that they both knew meant rag time!
Being born eleven months apart, the two were the same age for one month of the year—thirty-seven days, actually. Jared was born ten days before Christmas and Drew was born ten days before Thanksgiving. They joked that their drunken parents conceived Jared on St. Patrick's Day while Drew was conceived on Valentine's Day. They, therefore, were very close—almost like twins. They thought alike, talked alike and dressed similarly—but, even by age 18, they had never crossed over into "Homoland," so they didn't even know they both jacked-off alike.
Jared ogled his younger brother's bare ass as he walked away carrying his jog togs with him to throw in the bathroom hamper rather than stink up the bedroom. Jesus, he has a monster butt on him. No wonder he made varsity football in his sophomore year.
On the way to the bathroom, Drew thought, Fuck, I'd love to shower with Jared again … like we used to. Ever since he started dating, he's been so … standoffish.
Drew would pummel me good if he knew I was checkin' him out like this, Jared thought fearfully. He might be younger than me but he could sure as hell whoop MY ass if he wanted to.
Jared would fuckin' disown me if he found out that I jack off fantasizing about him, Jared's younger brother thought as he turned on the shower.
Fuck! I gotta beat off before Drew gets done showering or I'll have a boner all during dinner, Jared thought as he heard the glass door on the shower stall slam shut—indicating Drew was showering and not likely to catch him.
Fuck! I gotta jack off before going downstairs, or I'll have a boner all during dinner, Drew thought as he adjusted the water temperature. Then he leaned his shoulders back against the cold tiles and, with a fantasy vision of Jared jerking off, he began beating what he affectionately referred to as his bald-headed baby.
After he had showered, Drew returned to the room they shared—somewhat flush. Jared was lying naked but face down on his bed … also somewhat flush.
Admiring the view, Drew thought, I'd love to stick my nose in his funky butt crack and get all high … off of smellin' his stink. Instead he said, "You gonna get dressed?"
Grabbing a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt he had lying out on the end of the bed, Jared jumped up hiding his crotch with the clothes, saying, "Gotta pee. See ya downstairs." Although Jared was nothing but a blur to Drew on his way out, Jared had time to notice the tent made by the towel wrapped around his little brother's waist. On his way to the bathroom, Jared thought, The little freak's been playin' with himself.
Drew thought, I always lie face down after I cum until it goes soft. Then I have to pee. I'll bet that fucker was beatin' off while I was showering.
Once Jared was in the bathroom he grabbed Drew's recently-discarded sweaty jockstrap out of the hamper, pressed it to his nose reverently and sniffed them. A slow moving glint on the shower stall wall caught his attention. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was his little brother's jism. His tongue lapped out like a lizard's and swiped the glob off the tile. As he savored the flavor he thought, What I wouldn't do to get it warm and fresh from the little fucker's spunk spout.
Back in the bedroom they shared, Drew was leaning over to step into fresh jockeys when he spotted a pearl of splooge on the seat of the fake leather recliner they shared. His tongue snaked out to lap it up and he rolled his eyes as he thought, God I'd love to suck my brother's jism jerky.
At dinner, Jared and Drew talked amiably but then Drew said, "Hey, Jared, how come Trent had to go to the principal's office?"
"The little f … uh, freak stuffed Harry the Fairy in his locker and got caught."
"The little queer probably deserved it," Drew said.
"Don't talk about the poor boy like that," the boys' mom said. "How would you like it if people called YOU names?"
Their father was thinking, You tell 'em, Carrie. Go on and defend the little faggot, just like you did your brother last month when he came out to us.
If the boys knew their uncle was gay, Carrie thought, they wouldn't be so judgmental.
"Sorry, Mom," Jared said, "but Trent's my best friend and I gotta stick up for him. It's not like he did it out of meanness, he did it, uh … " Jared only took a nanosecond to formulate a fib " … to protect the little creep. Some of the guys on the football team were out to get him."
"So Trent stuffed him in his locker!" their father stated rather than questioned.
"Not HIS locker, Harry's locker."
"Whatever," Marty said—his response sounding all too much like the off-handed replies he loathed when he heard them coming from his sons.
"You know," Carrie said, "he has rights, too. He's a human being after all."
"Whaddya mean 'he probably deserved it'?" Marty asked Drew.
"He's always … " then he looked at his mother with a 'sorry for the language' expression and said, "offering to suck guys off."
"He does not!" Carrie shouted in disbelief.
"Not in so many words," Drew said, "but … "
"But what?" Marty insisted.
"By the way he acts."
"And walks," Jared added, coming to his little brother's rescue. "He minces around, taking tiny little steps … "
"And he walks on his tiptoes. He doesn't walk like a guy. It's like he's wearing imaginary high heels or something."
"And he talks baby talk, you know … all high-pitched and whiney."
"He … what's the word when you pronounce all the letters of a word?"
"Enunciates," Carrie said. "But that doesn't make him qu … gay." Then she thought, disdainfully, Although … now that I think about it, my brother—the queer—tends to enunciate.
"He's always going into Coach's office and closing the door."
"And closing the blinds," Drew added.
"Maybe he's trying to talk the Coach into sponsoring some unfortunate classmate for a college scholarship," Carrie said. "Someone like Andy," she added hoping the mention of her younger son's best friend's name would help.
"Andy's already the best ball magnet in the state. He'll have a dozen offers for scholarships without Coach's help," Drew said.
"Harry takes gym class but doesn't play worth a damn," Jared said. "Trent and I caught him … " but then Jared stopped talking.
"Doing what?" Marty encouraged, his mind imagining all sorts of disgusting acts.
"Sniffing our jocks while we were in the shower."
"So you were spying on HIM instead of showering?" Carrie accused.
"Well, yeah!" Jared lamely defended. "Uh, … the dirty little pervert was stealing my stink!"
"He was what?" Carrie asked completely confused by such macho phrasing.
"Guys don't … sniff other guys … stuff," Jared explained—even as a fleeting image of him sniffing his brother's jockstrap only minutes earlier flashed through his mind's eye. "It's MY sweat. Maybe I wanted to … " Unable to come up with anything convincing he said, " … give it to my girlfriend."
"You don't have a girlfriend," Drew reminded him.
"He USED to but that's not the point," Carrie said.
Agreeing with Carrie implied a joining of forces challenge … as married couples have an innate ability to do, Marty asked, "Why would you want to give your girlfriend … if you had one … your smelly jockstrap?"
"No wonder you don't have any girlfriends if that's the kind of presents you give 'em," Carrie said in wonderment.
"It's not a present! Angela … uh … well, it's personal."
"I guess!" Marty said shaking his head—confused.
"Can we change the subject?" Jared asked with a scowl directed at Drew for having brought up the subject in the first place.
"Just don't pick on others," Carrie admonished, "no matter what their differences are."
"What differences?" Marty asked. "It's not plural. Either they're queer or they're not."
"I meant … if they're black, or have freckles … or whatever."
"Black!" Jared said accusingly. "Jeeze! You guys should talk. Blacks are no different than Drew and me. That racial segregation shit is so last millennium."
"Don't say shit at the table," Marty said as he smiled at having said the word himself—at the table.
"Tell the truth," Drew said, "If I brought home a black girlfriend, you two would … shit bricks he thought but instead said, " … have a stroke." Remembering their earlier discussion about Harry the Fairy and with a wicked smile Drew added in his mind … or a black boyfriend.
"We've come a long way from the segregationist way our parents were raised," Carrie said defensively.
"And we've tried very hard to instill a sense of tolerance and fairness in you boys," Marty defended.
By mutual, although unspoken agreement, the topic was dropped and the meal ended with reserved restraint.
I'll chop his nuts off if he brings home a black girl, Marty thought.
Smelly jockstraps, Carrie thought disgustedly. That might be all right for my queer brother but … then in mid thought she switched her train of thought, thinking, my sons should have every right to stop that jock-stealing pervert and stuff him in a locker!
Drew was thinking, Jared would have Trent toss ME in my locker if he found out I wanted to suck the sweat out of his jockstrap.
Marty asked, "What's this Harry kid look like?"
"Why?" Jared asked, "lookin' for some action?"
Drew scowled at his brother for even joking about his dad being involved in gay sex. A scowl from Marty, however, encouraged Drew to answer for his brother, rather than get them in trouble. "He's about my height, brown spiky hair … the just-outta-bed head look … real pale."
"And he wears black all the time which makes him look even whiter," Jared added. "And combat boots."
"Doesn't sound like a fairy to me," Marty said. "Least not like we had back in MY day. Then he thought, Doesn't sound like a description of Carrie's brother, either. I wonder what gay guys actually look like.
Wistfully, Carrie said, "I loved the 70s. I mean, when two guys kissed, everyone would point and say, 'Oh my god, those guys are gay!' It's not like nowadays. The way guys mince around, wear makeup and talk like valley girls, you can't tell who's gay and who's straight."
"Hey, Dad, can you pick me up from school after work tomorrow?" Drew asked, deliberately changing the subject. "I've got football practice till 4:30 so I should be out of the locker room by five. You're only ten minutes away. It's twenty minutes, one way, for Mom."
"Yeah. Take your cell. I'll call if I have to work late."
"Leave a voice mail, if I don't answer. I might be in class or out on the field." He knew how much his dad hated talking to 'machines.'
"I'm going over to Trent's tomorrow, don't forget," Jared said. "Won't be home for dinner."
"I remember," Carrie said.
While Carrie washed dishes, the guys watched TV. When Carried wanted to watch a chick flick, Jared and Drew went to their room to finish their homework. Jared got done quickly and, after taking off his shirt, fell onto his back on the bed. With his right arm covering his eyes, he promptly fell asleep.
When Drew finished studying, he eased himself out of the chair and crawled over to Jared's bed. He didn't want to cast a skulking shadow that might awaken his brother. He eased his nose into his brother's armpit to inhale his musky teen odor. Oh, man, Drew thought, I'm so glad he takes morning showers. It gives me a chance to sniff his stink just before going to sleep. Shit! His scent is better'n Sandman dust.
Easing down toward the foot of the bed, he thought, I'd smell his funky crotch if he'd gotten undressed before he fell asleep. Then he crawled down to sniff Jared's feet. There was a distinct aroma of rubber-soled sneakers, sweat and day old toe jam. Drew beat off while he imagined sucking his brother's toes, licking his armpits and sucking his cock. As he cummed, his exhaled breath washed over Jared's toes like a balmy Caribbean breeze.
As he dreamed of warm tropical breezes, Jared got a boner. He was kneeling on a sandy beach with his hard-on wedged between Drew's big toe and the one next to it. Of course, Drew's feet were enormous—to accommodate Jared's oversized cock … in his dream!.
When he awoke an hour before dawn, his briefs were sticking to his belly. A fleeting recollection of his dream made him look over in the darkness to where he knew his brother was sleeping and he smiled wickedly.
As arranged, Marty picked Drew up from school. While he waited in the car outside the field house, he scoped out each jock as they straggled out. Some he knew personally—the quarterback, the nickleback, the halfback and two of the tight ends. They had all visited Drew at the house at one time or another. Then he saw the guy wearing black walk out—float out, actually.
Harry traipsed across the parking lot and got into a Lexus. Because of the heat, the tinted driver's side window was down. Harry gave the driver—a man—a quick peck on the cheek before the car started up. The man could have been his grandfather. Or not, Marty thought, judging Harry unfairly. Probably some … whaddya call 'em? … sugar daddy. As the car passed him, Marty looked through the front windshield directly into Harry's eyes.
What's he looking at? Harry thought.
Doesn't LOOK queer, Marty thought.
"Hey, Pop!" Drew said as he opened the passenger-side door.
Marty jumped, slicing the seat belt into both hips in the process. "Jesus, Drew! Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Devil after ya, Pop?"
"Shit!" Marty said, shaking his right hand to make the tingling go away.
"They say you only get startled like that when you're thinking dirty thoughts, Pop." Then Drew thought He saw the Lexus leaving. He's probably thinking about getting a blowjob from Harry the Fairy.
"How was practice?"
"Same ol', same ol'. Caught every pass they threw."
"What was that guy wearing black doing here? I thought he was a senior."
"Probably blowing the coach for a passing grade."
"What did your mother tell you about picking on others?"
"I wasn't picking on him. It was conjecture. Besides, he's such a piss poor player, he'd have to blow the whole team to get a passing grade."
Marty was surprised Drew could use the word 'conjecture' in a sentence properly.
"When's your next home game?"
"I'll be there. Jared going?"
"Said he was. It's homecoming, you know."
"And Trent?"
"Are they ever NOT together?"
Trent's probably queer for Jared, Marty thought. I've got me two good lookin' boys, if I DO say so myself.
Drew thought, I'd suck Trent while Jared fucked me if I thought I could get away with it without either of them knowing it was me.
I'd let Trent suck my dick, Marty thought. I've always thought he had a pretty mouth. Hell, I'd let Harry the Fairy suck my dick, too. He's kinda pretty … for a guy. Marty wanted to rearrange his hardening cock but decided not to in front of Drew—especially after his son's remark about thinking dirty thoughts.
Friday night Carrie and Marty sat in the 'parents' section of the bleachers while Jared and Trent sat in the 'students' section. The two groups were separated by the school's marching band. Although you couldn't actually see your breath, it was chilly just sitting there. They were glad when the game started and they could, clap, stomp their feet or stand up to cheer—just to keep warm.
All the while, Marty kept one eye on the game and one eye on Harry the Fairy sitting in the student section. Being the only one in black, instead of school colors, he was easy to spot. When he got up during the middle of the play, Marty watched where he went. A minute later, Trent stood up, said something to Jared and left.
Marty told Carrie he had to go to the men's room and that he would be back in a minute. Then fanning his hand in front of his nose, he said, "It might take a little longer than a minute."
Carrie shook her head, knowing Marty had eaten bean burritos for lunch.
When Marty got to the concession area, which had the rest rooms in the back half, he looked around for Harry or Trent. Seeing neither one, he quietly stepped into the men's room. From the acidic ammonia odor, Marty thought, Doesn't anyone know how to flush a urinal? Leaning down to look under the single stall wall he realized no one was in there. He left quickly before his clothes got permeated with the pissy odor. Not wanting to get back too soon and raise suspicion, he decided to buy a hot dog.
Afterward he had to go around to the south side of the concession stand to get the ketchup and relish. While there, motion out in the parking lot caught his attention. He pulled his hoodie up over his head and headed stealthily toward the action. He could clearly see Harry resting his butt against the fender of the Lexus, his arms crossed over his chest. It appeared that he was looking down at his feet.
Marty eased along the backside of the concession stand, staying in the shadows. When he got in just the right position, he could see perfectly—except for the face—some guy giving Harry a blowjob. The back and forth motion was unmistakable to anyone who had ever gotten a blowjob. What was also unmistakable—to Marty—was that the cocksucker was wearing the same clothes Trent was wearing. Tossing the rest of his half-eaten hot dog in the trash, Marty returned to the bleachers—hiding his hard-on by putting his hands in the pocket of his hoodie sweater and forcing the front down over his crotch.
When Trent returned, he handed Jared a hot dog and a pop. After Jared inhaled it, his son excused himself and made his way out of the stands.
Marty, knowing what was happening 'off the field,' grabbed his stomach like a major dump was imminent and excused himself, again. It was a good thing he didn't have to make excuses because he just caught sight of Jared heading for the Lexus. God no! Marty thought. Don't let my son be … Even though Marty's mind couldn't bear to finish his thought, curiosity compelled Marty to find out for sure.
The bright lights on the field made the darkness behind the bleachers and concessions stand all the more visually impenetrable. He stubbed his toe as he skulked around in the shadows until he saw them.
This time, it was Jared who had his butt on the fender. To Marty's surprise, however, it wasn't Harry the Fairy on his knees. It was the old man—the one Marty had assumed was his grandfather—or his sugar daddy. Thank god, Marty thought, his heart soaring out of appreciation for all things good in this life. At least Jared's not a cocksucker!
"Like whatcha see?" Harry asked, slipping into the shadows to join Marty.
"Jesus Miste A Critey Damn!" Marty screamed as he swung a fist around in the direction of the voice.
Harry caught the fist in the palm of his hand like he was anticipating the punch.
"Easy, Slugger."
At that moment Marty was more surprised by the strength in Harry's one hand than by his Grand Canyon deep voice. At the same moment he recalled his sons referring to Harry's voice as high-pitched and whiney … confusing him all the more. Recovering from the closest thing to a heart attack he had ever experienced, Marty said, "Damn it all to hell. Don't sneak up on a guy like that!"
"I think you're the one who was sneaking around," Harry said calmly.
Marty had to squint to make out any shape or form of the black clad boy in the darkened shadows behind the concessions. With Harry's black ball cap pulled down, casting a shadow over the top two-thirds of his face, all Marty could see was the kissy lips of the boy. God I'd love to stick my dick between those lips.
"Lookin' for a blowjob or dirt on one of my classmates?" Harry asked as if he were asking Marty if he wanted an order of chicken wings or a burger.
Marty started to say, 'I'll have you know,' but he stopped because he didn't want to say the wrong thing. It occurred to him it wouldn't be prudent to let Harry know that the old man was blowing HIS son.
"Usually, I charge to let people watch," Harry said. "But, since they ARE doing it in public, I guess there's not much I can do about it."
"You what?"
"Not much. Just enough to pay for condoms and lube."
"This is a business?"
"More like a lucrative hobby. You know, like selling hand-painted pottery or personalized needlepoint. Besides, by it being a hobby, it cuts down on IRS paperwork."
Even his references are queer, Marty thought disgustedly. "I gotta go," Marty said.
"If you're ever interested, let Jared know. I'll set up an appointment for you."
"You know, your son!" Harry said thrusting a thumb toward the action in the parking lot.
Marty's heart skipped a beat before he said, "Uh, I saw … earlier … "
"I know. I'm not an idiot. If I didn't want you to see, I'd have made Trent act like he was tying his shoe or something."
"No. Jared doesn't. Not yet."
"But he will if I want him to. I'll make sure of that. But for right now," Harry said thoughtfully, "I've got him keeping my other customers happy. Your boy's got a big dick on him. My clients like big dicks. You got a big dick, Marty?"
"Yeah," Marty said without thinking. "Trent … "
"Don't worry about Trent. Worry about yourself."
"Whaddya mean?"
"Let's just say, you don't want to do anything to get me in trouble."
"Whaddya mean by 'trouble'?"
"You know, turn me in for introducing guys to other guys with similar interests. Just consider me like a Dot Com dating service without the cost of an Internet hookup fee."
"And if I did, what would you be able to do about it?"
"Not what I would do. It's about what you would end up doing. Let's just say you don't want to hurt your son."
"How would turning you in hurt my son?"
"I could tell him that his best friend's a faggot."
Marty thought about that and figured he could diffuse that problem before Harry had a chance to use it against him.
"Or I could tell Trent that Jared's in my stable. Of course, he'd immediately think I meant your son was a cocksucker, too."
"But he's not!"
"Who cares? All my classmates call me Harry the Fairy. All I have to do is say Jared's queer and he is. You know, 'It takes one to know one, ' and all that shit."
Marty knew that what Harry said was true. People don't want to know the facts. They just want to believe the worst. "Well," Marty said sanctimoniously, "I wasn't going to say anything anyway." Before returning to the bleachers, Marty bought two dogs and one giant pop. After handing one to Carrie he said, "Had to wait till the men's room cleared out. Didn't wanna gas 'em out."
"What's the matter?"
"I think I'm all right now," Marty said. After Harry blackmailed him, Marty decided he would stay in his seat rather than poke a stick at the lion by spying on him again.
Down on the field, Andy caught a thirty-four yard pass Drew threw to him for a touchdown, in the last few seconds of the game, which gave the Warriors the win.
On the way out of the stands, Marty saw Jared and Trent heading for the locker room. Gonna congratulate Drew, no doubt, Marty thought. Then with a shiver, like someone had walked over his future gravesite, he thought, I'm not sure I like Jared going in there with Trent … now that I know he's a cocksucker.
Carrie drove while Marty looked out the passenger side window, counting telephone poles as they passed by, just to keep himself from thinking about what he'd seen … and heard.
"Jared's gonna drive Andy home. Then he and Drew are gonna pick up pizza," Carrie said. "I slipped him fifty dollars before the game to pay for it."
Marty didn't acknowledge her comment because he was trying to block out life—but life was winning the battle. How can I convince Jared to stop being friends with Trent? They've been friends since second grade, then, 'thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six.
"I'm gonna go over to Cory's tomorrow," Carrie said. He might be queer, but he's still my brother … my younger brother … and, as she felt the weight of her own age resting heavily on her shoulders, she groused, my fifteen years younger brother. Hell he's only five years older than Jared. How did I get so old? "Do you wanna go with me?"
Maybe I should talk to Trent and tell him what I saw tonight and convince him to stop seeing Jared. Fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four.
"Marty, are you listening to me?"
"Wha, huh?"
"Do you want to go with me?"
"What were you thinking about?"
"Counting poles."
"Jesus. You only do that when you've got something on your mind."
"Go where?" Marty asked to keep Carrie from digging into his thoughts.
"To see Cory."
"No, I wanna go home and eat."
"Not tonight! Tomorrow."
"Marty, you and Cory have been close for a long time. If you stop going over there now, he's gonna think it's because you know that he's gay … and it bothers you."
"It does."
"Marty, don't be an ass. If you think about it, Cory's no different than he's always been. He was gay BEFORE we knew he was gay and you two got along all right."
"But now I know it."
"So what you're agreeing to is that Cory hasn't changed, you have."
"No I haven't. I've never been comfortable around queers."
"Don't say queer."
"The boys aren't here. Besides whatever word you use, it doesn't change the behavior. Whether you call it a leopard or a jaguar, it's still a cat and it's still a man eater."
"Poor choice of an analogy," Carrie said.
With a satisfied smile Marty said, "Actually I thought it was pretty accurate for not having time to think about it."
"What I'm saying is, when we went over to play cards, he didn't jump your bones. Why would he start now?"
Maybe I can ask queer Cory how to handle Trent … and even Harry's blackmail threat. Marty said, "Okay, I'll go."
While Carrie and Marty were driving home from the game, Jared and Trent were in the locker room busting Drew's chops. Then Marty suddenly remembered Trent heading toward the locker room … where his young son, Drew, would be naked.
To be continued
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