Warning! This is a tale about men loving men, involving incest. If you find this disturbing - click off. If it's unlawful for you to read this - click off. If you under age - good luck if you can get away with it.

This is not a story for getting your rocks off. Just thought I'd let you know so you won't waste your time if that's what your looking for.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy my writing.

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J S . Collection at Verizon . Net

And The Truth Shall Set You Free

a continuation of Like a Promised Sunrise

By JWSmith

From Chapter 01:

I walked over to the dresser as I tucked the tails in my jeans. I picked up my wallet and keys, stuffing them into my pockets.

"Where are you going?"


"Why?" he asked, sitting up.

I turned and faced him.

"You won't talk to me. Maybe some stranger in a bar will."

Chapter 02

The clear golden skin of Jace's face turned kind of blotchy. It's a weird thing about us Deasons when we get upset. Ignoring the fact that he was upset, I turned and walked away from the bed.

"Please, don't, Judd."

I turned and looked at him.

"Ever since the funeral you've made me feel like you're hiding something from me. In the last twelve days I've continually caught you frowning at me, yet you smile at me when you realize I've caught you. You talk on the phone to Dad and keep looking at me with a strange expression on your face. I don't know what's going on and I'm fed up. So give me a reason to stay."

"I love you. And I'm asking you to not go out."

"But you won't tell me what's going on."

"I can't. I promised Tom I wouldn't."

"I see."

I turned on my heels and walked into the living room. I picked up the phone and dialed Dad's number.

"Who are you calling?" Jace asked standing next to the sofa, bare assed. God he is so beautiful. I could almost give in and take him to bed. I raised my eyebrows at him.

Dad answered. I didn't even greet him.

"This is Judd. I just want you to know that I'm ready to walk out on Jace. I don't know what you two are up to. He says you made him promise not to tell me. I am not sticking around feeling like a fifth wheel in my own home. So it's on your head."

I hung up without giving him a chance to reply. I had never talked to my dad like that. The phone was ringing before I could get to the door. Jace picked it up. There was a lot of whispered arguing. I put on a light jacket, acting unconcerned, but dying to know what was being said and hoping my ploy was going to work.

"Judd, your dad wants to talk to you." I grimaced at him, sauntered over and took the phone from his hand.,ignoring the frown on his face.

"Yes?" I said in to the mouth piece.

"Son, I don't know what's going on in your head to make you react this way. And before I have to admit to what Jace and I have been discussing, let me ask you one question. When is your birthday?"

With out thinking I answered.

"March 23rd."

"And today is?"

"The tenth.

"Good. Now, two and two are...?"

"Four." I answered automatically wondering what he was getting at.

"Ah, so you can put two and two together and come up with the right answer. Need I say any more?"

"No, sir." I said, feeling foolish for not having figured it out by myself before now.

"Good. Let me speak to Jace. And Judd, I love you, Son."

"I love you, Dad."

I handed the phone to Jace and moved over to sit on a barstool at the kitchen counter. I watched him in deep discussion again. And then he turned and walked close enough that I could hear dad tell him that if I gave him any more grief to call him back. Jace looked at me and grinned. I was still feeling pissy about the situation. I had a gut feeling that something still wasn't right. I just stared back at him.

When he set the phone down he walked up me. I couldn't, for the life of me, keep from enjoying looking at his long lanky body.

"You still going out?"

I shrugged and said, "I might."

"You're not still mad at me are you?"

He rubbed his thighs against my knees. I couldn't help but watch his pendulous cock swinging above my legs. I resisted reaching for it and looked him in the face.

"Yeah. I am."

"Can you tell me why?" He asked in a quiet soothing voice.

I stood up, making him back away and then I strode across the room.

"I am angry because you let me stew in my maddening imagination all this time."

He stood there in all his naked glory with his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to say more. I sighed.

"Maybe I'm angry at myself for being able to imagine the things I did."

"So are you angry at me or yourself?"

"Both. Fuck!" I raised my voice. "Just don't talk to me. I need to think about this."

Jace chuckled.

"First he wants me to talk to him and then he doesn't want me to talk to him, what's a guy to do?"

He went into the kitchen talking to the ceiling or maybe God. He raised his hands in supplication and pulled a big bottle of Coke out of the fridge. He held it up and looked at me. I nodded without thinking about what was he was doing. He filled two glasses with ice and coke. I moved into the kitchen and took the drink as he held it out to me. I kissed him thanks. He grinned at me which made me realize what had just happened. Damn, we are so much of one mind that we don't even have to talk to communicate.

"You shit heel. You just did that on purpose, didn't you?" I frowned at him doing my best to be aggravated at him and not succeeding.

"You got the message didn't you," he said with a shit eatin' grin.

I grimaced as I sat my drink down on the counter and took his from him setting it next to mine. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips against his. His tongue sought entrance. I let him in and we danced from mouth to mouth. My hands were exploring his naked skin from his neck down to his thighs.

Jace had his hand inside my shirt which I wasn't even aware that he had pulled loose from my jeans. He broke the kiss.

"You've got too many clothes on."

I stepped back and started pulling my jacket off. Jace was helping by unbuckling my belt and Levi's. As I pulled my shirt over my head I was at the same time scraping the heel of one boot against the edge of the sole on the other. Jace knelt and helped get them off my feet and then grabbed my pant legs and pulled my jeans off along with my socks. I was naked like him.

Jace kissed his way up my thighs, bypassing my burgeoning equipment. He kissed his way up my belly and chest, stopped to tickle each of my nipples with his tongue and then attacked my mouth again.

And hour or so later we were sated. I couldn't recall doing it, but somewhere along the way we'd moved to the bed. I lay with my head on Jace's chest. His arm around me, my limp cock pressed against his thigh. I brushed a fingertip across his nipple. He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his lips.

"Too sensitive," he muttered as he kissed my fingers.

"But so tempting."


Both of us dozed a bit. I felt Jace move and opened my eyes to see him pull on his scrotum.

"We've got to go shower. I'm sticking to my self."

"I don't think I can move. I'm stuck to your side." I muttered not even attempting to move.

"Come on, Judd. I can't get up with you laying on me."

"I have no intention of moving. Besides, I think there is more than just my birthday coming up. A birthday surprise does not take that much arguing and secretiveness. "

I felt Jace sigh and relax in resignation. He didn't say anything.

"Jace?" I paused, waiting for him to look at me. He didn't. " I was wondering. We've never kept anything from each other. No secrets. That was our agreement."


"So why now?"

"So why now what?"

"Why did you promise Dad to keep this, what ever he's planning , from me?"

"It's his secret, not mine. And besides, it's nothing serious."


"Not really."

"Letting me imagine all the horrible things I possibly could is not serious."

"You're just being neurotic," he said with a short bark-like laugh. "What have you been imaging, anyway?"

I pushed away from him and sat up. His cavalier attitude was angering me again.

"Neurotic, Mr. Kettle? How dare you of all people call me that."

Jace sighed, turning on his side and propping his head up with a scrunched pillow.

"Okay, Mr. Pot, I concede. I was out of line. What were you imaging?"

"It's too embarrassing to tell you."

"You don't have to then."

He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. I sat there in a half lotus and stared at him.



I stretched out and lay down beside him, my hands behind my head.

"You told me once that you and your brothers played around with each other."

"Mm Hmm."

"So did you do it with my dad?"

"Do what with your dad?"

"You know. Did you have sex with him?"

"Why are your asking that?"

"Just curious?"

"And what brought on this curiosity?"

"Have you ever answered a question without asking a question?"

"Why do you want to know that, Judd?"

I knew he was ignoring my rhetorical question and was referring to why I wanted to know about him and Dad.

"The answer might put my mind at ease."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then I might just run screaming into the night." I was trying to put a bit of levity into the situation, but deep down I knew there was a germ of truth in it if any of my imagings came true..

"Well, I don't think you need to know the answer."

"So you did."

"I didn't say that."

"Well, if you hadn't you'd have just said so." I insisted.

"Not necessarily."

"So was it often? Just once or twice? Or somewhere in between?"

Jace rolled his eyes up as though trying to see the top of his head, blinked a couple of times and sat up.

"I guess I'll go shower," he said.

I let him get to the bathroom door before stopping him.

"So we're back to where we were just before I called Dad."

Jace stood there with a hand on the door frame staring at me for a long time. I couldn't figure out what his expression meant. Finally he spoke.

"Judd, let me take a shower, and then I'll talk to Tom, again. I've changed my mind. I feel that you will not let this rest until you know all the truth. And it is not my place to tell you. So, please, don't ask me again. Tom will tell you when he gets here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Judd, please."

"So I have to wait until Friday?" Even to my own ears I sounded like a petulant spoiled brat .

"No. Tom wanted to come tomorrow afternoon. I told him no. I'll call him back and tell him to come ahead."

He turned to go into the shower. I jumped off the bed and followed him.

"Jace, why does this make me feel frightened? What is so terrible that you have been arguing with him over it since grandpa's funeral?"

Jace took me in his arms, pushing my head down onto his shoulder.

"Whatever it is, Judd, I'll still be loving you just as much after you find out. Come on, I need you to wash my back."

How could I resist that invitation. Jace certainly knows how to get my mind off of a subject.

Mar 15, ' 02 Sat.

This is the first time I've been alone since Dad arrived. Jim wanted to go to the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena. I begged off, insisting that I've got to get some writing done. Well, I do want to write down all that has happened, but I wanted time away from them to just mull over everything.

After Jace called Dad back last Monday night, he wouldn't say another word on the subject.

Tuesday morning, I let Jace go to the airport by himself to meet Dad's plane. I figured whatever it was that they were planning on laying on me, that they needed the time to get their strategy laid out first. Jim came in on Wed. the 12th.

I had a big pitcher of Margarita's made when they came through the door. I haven't had a drop of hard liquor since I'd tried to drink myself into oblivion and ended up nearly dying. However, I knew that Dad loves a good Margarita.

Dad dropped his bags when he came through the door and wrapped me in a big bear hug. It felt so good. As big as I am, Dad is bigger. Two inches taller and about forty pounds heavier. Wider shoulders with hips as narrow as mine and Jace's. I had never looked at him before as anything but my dad. He is one big gorgeous hunk. He is one of the most gentle, kind, yet strong, men I have ever met. Staunch is the word that comes to mind when I think of Dad. There is no wondering why Jim worships the ground on which he stands.

Anyway, Dad told me he loves me very much and to remember no matter what, I am his son. Well, that put me on edge even more. I poured him a big glass full of the Margarita, and poured my self and Jace a Coke while Jace took Dad's bags into the new bedroom.

"All right, let's everybody find a comfortable place to sit to talk about this."

Jace sat sideways on a sofa across from the chair Dad chose. He motioned for me to sit between his legs and he immediately put his arms around me. And whispered, "I love you, Judd."

I was nervous. Dad sipped his drink and studied me for several minutes. It could have been just a few seconds. It seemed like a long time.

"Judd," he finally broke the silence, my heart jumped to my throat. "There is only one person in this world I love more than you, Son, and that's Jim. I love your mother and your brothers dearly and Jace and my other brothers. But you and Jim are the most precious to me. I want you to keep that in mind."

[Note: from here on it is Dad telling the story except for blocked sentences. Quotation marks will be used to actual speech as he quoted it, or as Jace or I responded to what he said.]

There are two things that have happened that make me feel that I have to tell you this, Judd. Your mom went to Dallas with Nan Brandis, Jim's wife, and had a little too much to drink. She told Nan some family secrets. And the other thing is the Old Man's death.

I don't think you know Nan, Son. She is a bitter woman. She lives in Dallas most of the time. When she was off at college she fell in love with a black fellow and got pregnant by him. He was willing to marry her but her dad would hear nothing of it. He took her over to Houston and made her have an abortion. He gave the black guy a large sum of money and told him to get lost. Remember this was Texas thirty years ago.

Jim's dad had somehow found out that Jim and I were in a relationship. He was okay with Jim being gay, but he thought that for it to be acceptable Jim had to be married. He knew the situation with Nan and her father and arranged the marriage. Since it was only a sham marriage Jim went along with it.

Nan knew, when she married Jim that he is gay. But she thought that she could change him. I don't believe that Jim has ever even slept in the same bed with her. When she discovered it was futile, she wanted an annulment. Her father convinced her otherwise.

So the table got turned on us with the death of her father a few months ago and her learning some of our family secrets, which she threaten to expose if Jim didn't give up his love for me. So we figured it was best for him to give her a divorce and come out of the closet. Your mother, who has always loved her brother Jim almost as much as I do decided it was time to step out of the picture, too. All of our sons are grown, so she has.

So we decided to come out with the truth before Nan could use it to do any malicious harm. Jace and I have been arguing about telling you since the funeral. Apparently, you convinced Jace to agree to my telling you the whole story."

"I basically knew all that, Dad. I kind of figured out years ago that you and Uncle Jim have a closer than normal relationship."

"Son, what I've just told you is only a prelude to the whole story."

"I don't understand."

"Have you ever wondered why I was married to your mother and have her brother as my lover?"

"I thought it rather curious. But I never thought more about it."

"Well, Judd, you are the reason."

"Me? What could I have had to do with it?"

"Let me tell you the whole story. Jim and I were nineteen at the time. We were both going to Baylor and we'd just gotten home for the summer.

Your mother, Betty Jean, was seventeen, and had just graduated from high School. She had a huge crush on me. She wasn't aware that her brother Jim was also in love with me and that we had been in a monogamous relationship since we were sixteen. Actually, I don't think anyone knew at that time. We were just best buds rooming together at college.

On the day that set our fused futures on its course, Jim and I had gone horseback riding out to the springs. Being apart for a full week after spending a whole year living together, we were a horny couple of young studs in heat. We couldn't wait to get our hands on each other.

Betty Jean showed up at the ranch looking for me. She wanted to invite me to a party one of her girlfriends in town was having. The Old Man offered to drive her out to the springs to see me. Back in those days you could only get within about a half mile of the springs in a vehicle. So they had to hike in the rest of the way. Jim and I extended the road down to the springs so there would be no more surprises like the one we had that day.

Needless to say, Jim and I were naked and wrapped in each others arms when they showed up. Not to give to detailed a picture , but Jim had me on all fours servicing me well. Betty Jean was horrified and th Old Man was enraged. He told Jim to get his butt off this ranch and never set foot on it again. He said he would deal with when me when we got back to the ranch.

He and Betty Jean hightailed back to the pickup. Jim and I got dressed and raced back to the ranch. Jim was so mortified that he jumped into his pickup and left without even saying goodbye. When the Old Man and Betty Jean got back to the ranch I was sitting in the barn wondering what the old son of a bitch was going to try to do. Betty Jean got out of the pickup, kissed him on the cheek , scampered over to her Ford Convertible and left. I watched the Old Man smirk as he watched her car disappear in a trail of dust and he turned and walked into the barn.

He stood in the dusky interior, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. I was leaning against a post not ten feet in front of him. The ol' bastard hadn't smiled in the last four years that I could recall. The way he looked at me, with kind of predatory sneer. He did have an animal magnetism I've never seen in another man. I felt like I could almost have dropped my pants for him then and there. Then I recalled the last time I had seen a similar smile on his face. It was the day I caught him molesting Hank.

"Grandpa molested his own son? Jesus!" [ My mind was going a mile a minute putting things that I had suspected into order with this new information.]

"Yes," Dad said. "Yes, he did. As I look back on it I can see how it happened. But being that Hank was only twelve, the son of a bitch should have had enough control to keep his hands off him."

Hank had been a sickly child. He's smaller than the rest of us and at twelve years old he looked like a pretty little six year old boy. The Old Man had always given him extra love and attention. Hank was always hanging on him. If he sat down Hank was trying to get onto his lap.

I'd overheard Mom telling the Old Man that it was time to make Hank stop hanging on him like that. His reply was that it was all innocent, not to worry about it. Mom warned him that it was going to get out of control.

He never tried to change Hank's ways. I think he really enjoyed having the boy cling to him like that. I'm sure that at first it was fatherly love. But he let it get out of hand to the point that finally, he gave into his lust and had his way with the boy.

I had just returned from moving some cattle over to the north pasture. Mom had gone into Pecos for her weekly grocery shopping, taking Jace with her.

The place was quiet. I was wondering where Joe and Hank were, when I heard a scream from the barn. I ran in and heard whimpering from the hay loft. I climbed up the ladder and froze as my mind tried to fit this giant of a man who I had always loved and worshiped with his pants around his ankles and little Hank impaled on his big pole. The son of a bitch was so involved in what he was doing that he didn't hear me. He couldn't even hear Hank begging him to stop, to take it out, that it was hurting him.

I grabbed a pitchfork and swung it at his head, knocking him over. I had the pitchfork tines piercing the muscles of his chest before he realized what had hit him. With a little more pressure I could have forced it right through his body.

The Old Man lay there panting with a wild look on his face. He was still in the throes of heat. The expression slowly turned to remorse and tears began to flow down his face as he realized what he'd been doing. Blood was trickling from the wounds where the tines had penetrated his skin and sunk through his pectoral muscles. He seemed to be oblivious to the pain. Hank had thrown his naked body across his trying to pull the pitchfork away. He was screaming "No, don't kill my daddy."

"Hank get up and put your clothes on." I commanded.

He looked up at me nearly hysterical

"Please, Tom, don't' kill daddy. It's my fault. Please ,Tom."

I wanted to vomit I was so upset. The bastard's hands grasped at the outside tines. I kept a steady pressure on the pitchfork though.

"Hank get your clothes and get out of here." I yelled.

Hank scrambled to gather his clothes, still begging me not to kill him. He kept insisting it was his fault. I looked into the Old Man's eyes and saw fear. He was afraid I was going to kill him, that he was going to die. He hadn't uttered a word.

As soon as Hank was down the ladder I started talking.

"I should kill you, you son of a bitch. How could you do that? He is only twelve years old."

He was weeping now. "I don't know what came over me. He's always clinging to me. When he sits on my lap he's always squirming. I ... I get excited and he can feel it. He smiles at me and presses against it. I know I should have made him stop. I don't know why I didn't. And then today....."

"Shut up." I yelled. " I don't want to hear anymore. He's a child. You're a grown man. For Christ Sake, you're his father and you raped him."

"He wanted it."

"I said Shut up. Hank was begging you to stop. You were hurting him.

I stood there with the pitchfork stuck in his chest muscles, the blood flowing around the tines. It would have been so easy to just push them on in, right through his heart and lungs. God, it would have been so easy.

"I loved you, Dad." I cried.

"That was the last time I ever addressed him as Dad.

"His expression changed from fear to something else. Maybe self loathing. He grasped the handle at the top of the tines and pulled, trying to drive the points into his own chest.


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