Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 16:18:50 EDT
From: KissAndCuddleGem@aol.com
Subject: Dad's Just Desserts (Installment 7)

This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.

Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is presented
with the intent to condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.

The above-expressed disclaimer also does apply to any and all installments
of this story, including those preceding and following this installment.

All questions and/or comments are welcome; and, if you wish to contact me,
please feel free to email me at: KissAndCuddleGem@AOL.COM; and I will most
definitely respond to email, as appropriate.


Casey wandered into the kitchen half-dazed and on the way out to Ryan's
terrace.  He had on a beige terry robe that was hanging loosely about him,
making him feel more swallowed up in it than covered.  Pleased by the aroma
of pancakes, he kissed Ryan on the cheek, saying: "Add some slice apple to
the tops and I will let you have your way with me with the shower massage."

"Well, then, cuz, apples it is!", Ryan responded, giggling as he flipped
one of the golden disks in the pan.

"Do you think that I am beautiful, Sir Ryan?"

Ryan looked at Casey and then paused for dramatic effect, final saying:
"Well, if you must know, mister, you are just another tart that I have had
my way with.  But I make keep you in my little black book, if you are
good."

If this were coming from anyone else, Casey, only human, would have been
crushed.  But he was beginning to understand, even enjoy Ryan's sense of
humor.  Plus, in truth, he was a bit tired of taking himself and life in
general always so seriously.

"Well, then, your majesty, let me earn my keep!"; Casey came back with, and
with a flourish, he untied the roomy robe and flicked it with his wrist to
the living room foor.

 was staring at Casey, eying him all over and making no effort not to make
this obvious whatsoever.  The irony was that what Ryan did not realize is
that every time Ryan even looked at him, he just would have this thing
about him that would make Casey feel like he was always being seen nude by
Ryan regardless of what he was or was not wearing at the time.  Casey
shamelessly felt like the happy slut of a nouveau riche entrepreneur; and
he was nude and felt joyous, free, and alive, and was totally shameless
with regard to all aspects of what he was sharing with Ryan.

It was quite clear that what they were cooking up together had very little
to do with pancakes.  Nevertheless, Ryan, recalling the shower massage
thing, was busy searching the fridge for some nice, ripe apples: He felt a
bit horny; and kept thinking to himself as he looked: "The juicier, the
better."

^@nd ^@lRyan and Casey, after a leisurely breakfast, spent the next hour or
so on the screened-in terrace.  They had thrown on their robes, in case
there were any voyeurs from opposite-facing buildings.  Ryan said to Casey
that at night it would be fine to just sit out there wearing boxers.  Casey
soon realized that in Ryan's mind boxers were a sign of modesty, sort of
like wearing swim trunks or what from afar closely resembles them.  They
were trying to come up with a strategy with regard to handling of Richard
Chambers, Jr.  Casey wanted to hear specifics about this individual.  Ryan
related that his info was sketchy but they did know this about him: Besides
a well-earned reputation as a "bad boy" and sort of a rebel, he was known
to be a bit vain and looks-obsessed and the type of individual who enjoyed
having his ego stroked, among other things.

Casey chimed in to Ryan's astonishment with this: "Well, I don't
particularly want to be the one to have to sleep with him."

"You, goof, I was just joking about that one.  Besides, seduction can take
many forms.  If I had to guess, I'd bet you spent half the night worrying
that you were going to have to be the 'gigolo of the day'."

Casey was distracted by Ryan's beautiful large-sized pecs and nicely-shaped
approaching-bulbous nipples.  He was trying to focus on business with Ryan,
but all he kept thinking of was how much fun they could really have in the
shower.  Then another thought occurred to him: Would he be able to keep
Ryan from finding out about his panic attacks; and, if that were
unrealistic, would Ryan be able to accept Casey, the "total package", so to
speak.

"It's really beautiful out here, Ryan.  I can even see a nearby pond from
here all full of ducks and herons."

"You know what is really beautiful, Casey", Ryan replied, smiling.

What?", Casey stammered hesitantly.

"You are.  You will always be beautiful in my eyes."

"Am I gay?", Casey once again wondered.  He knew very well that he had come
to Maine on a mission, a serious mission, to find answers to questions that
he felt within his gut possibly might be better off left unanswered.  The
irony was that this trip thus far was raising more questions than providing
answers: questions about Casey's sexuality; and his feelings for and
relationship with Ryan.  He began to look at Ryan again, licking his lips
as he did so: Ryan's emerald green eyes now had a glint in them as if
signifying a bit of childlike mischief floating through his brain; his
bonze healthy tan and his skin far from leathery were making him look a bit
like a tourist in Hawaii; and his being moderately hairy was very, very
attractive to Casey, as it heightened his cousin's overall masculine and
virile appeal and made him feel safe, really safe, when with him.

This time he did not just think about doing it: He did reach out and touch
the lustrous head of hair before him, just as he really wanted to on their
drive the day before.  He was gently stroking the crown of Ryan's head.  It
just took one look from Ryan, one, single look, and they were within two
minutes in the shower together and adjusting the water to a nice lukewarm
mid-pressure flow.  Ryan's dexterity in using the shower massage gadget all
over his cousin, even in stimulating his cock with it to full arousal, was
a marvel.  Casey became nervous and, at one point when taking the massage
apparatus from his cousin for his own turn, felt very intimidated by the
power in the palm of his hand.  Ryan was trying his best to encourage him
and put him at easy: "Just do it, Casey, please.  I know you can do it."
Casey smiled nervously, his throat muscles tightened.  The whole experience
of being with his cousin like this was all very sensual, almost
overwhelmingly so.  He was hooked on the invigorating, pulsating
pressure-sensation, similar at times to pine needles pressing against the
skin; and, so, before doing his cousin, he sprayed himself with the tool
directly on the head of his cock and also directly on his hole: he repeated
this, alternating between the two, for about thirty seconds.  He felt his
load surging within his loins and his balls becoming very full and
pleasurable.  As he carefully used the massage device and went over with
delicacy every single part of Ryan's front and rear, with extra attention
played to his cousin's rounded, smooth, slightly plump buns and thick cock,
six and one-half-inches semi-hard, amid moderately hairy pubes, a
vividly-red-haired bush, he thought he was fastasizing about all of this
and that nothing was actually really happening.

Ryan, ever-confident and in control, kissed him.  Not a single word was
said between them after the kiss.  They stood there, embracing each other
in the shower as the water cascaded over their naked flesh.  When they left
the bathroom, Casey glanced at the wall clock and saw that they had been in
there for a full one-hour and one-half.  He thought, insecurely, that he
might very well lose Ryan if he did not learn to let go more and enjoy.
Casey was obsessively visualizing their creamy, white loads being shot and
flowing down the shower stall drain in a whirlpool-like manner.  Reflecting
on his first night sharing a bed with his cousin and his cousin' honoring
of his request, he was amazed by his lover's strength in putting his needs
on hold.

The two dressed in casual business wear-style button-down short-sleeve
shirts and dress slacks.  Casey was glad that "Junior" was still in town
and easily accessible at the Chambers family home.  After a rushed exchange
of calls, Ryan and Casey set out on the half-hour drive, this time with the
covertible-top up due to a moderate rain.  Casey was thinking all through
the ride that he had better mental prepare himself right then and there
with all the strength and determination he could muster.  For everything
within him was still telling him that at this stage in the mission they
were just about to deal directly with Satan's spawn.