My Dads draft 20
by Jon Hold
Copyright ©2015 by the Author
Joey and Garrick with Garrick's handicapped friend who needs love as much as Garrick did.
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I had a four-day weekend from school so I talked Mom and Dad into letting me spend it at Garrick and his Dad's house. I quickly packed an overnight bag and had the chauffeur drive me to their house right after school on Thursday. Garrick was in the front yard when we got there and I bounded out of the car and into his arms in one jump, giving him a big hug and kiss. He grabbed me and spun around and around until I was dizzy.
Finally, he stopped spinning and jounced me up and down a few times. "Hey! Are you happy to see me, or is that a baseball bat in your pants, Runt?"
"Must be happy to see you, Stud. I don't play baseball." Garrick kissed me again but I pushed myself away. "Let me down, Big Brother. It's Holt's afternoon off and he did me a special favor bringing me here and I want to send him home."
Garrick put me down and I got my bag out of the back of the limousine. I went up to the drivers window and thanked Holt, the chauffeur. I told him I owed him one and he leered at me and said he intended to collect--from the pound of flesh nearest my asshole. I winked at him and smiled. He drove off as I headed for the house.
"Already making plans with another man, Little Brother?" Garrick asked archly.
"Why not. You're not man enough to satisfy me," I teased.
"You little shit!" he yelled as he lit out after me. I ran like hell for the house. When I got near the porch I made a hard left turn and slung my bag onto the porch. I was just getting back up to top speed when Garrick slammed into me and tackled me to the ground. We were making a hell of a mess of ourselves, rolling all over the lawn, tickling, punching and groping each other. Having a wonderful time, wish you'd been there. We were pretty hot and sweaty and starting to tire when I heard a voice from behind us.
Garrick stopped, laying on top of me. I tried to wiggle out from under him and he whacked me on top of my head, "Time out, Runt."
"Hi, Greg. What's up?"
I looked up behind me, scrunching my head into the grass, and saw a guy sitting in a wheelchair.
"I came over to see if you were going to study this weekend, Garrick." the guy said.
"Naw. My cousins visiting and I've got some other stuff to do."
"OK. Give me a call if you need help studying."
"Thanks, Greg. I will."
Garrick looked back down to me and the guy wheeled himself off. Garrick started tickling me, trying to get me going again. But I just asked him, "Who was that, Big Brother?"
"His name's Greg. He helps me out with learning math and German and history. He's really smart."
"A friend of your's?"
"Yeah. ...I guess so."
I pushed Garrick off of me and stood up, looking down on him as he lay on his back in the grass. "Well, you're a pretty shitty friend, asshole." I turned and ran down the sidewalk after the guy in the wheelchair, leaving Garrick lying on the ground with his mouth hanging open and a shocked/puzzled look on his face.
I caught up with the wheelchair and bounced around in front of it, making Greg stop.
"You, Greg?" I asked, just like a puppy dog wagging his tail at a stranger.
Warily, he answered, "Yeah."
I stuck my hand out. "Hi. I'm Joey, Garrick's brother, only we're really cousin's, except we're brothers to each other because our dad's are brothers, and they said it was OK for us to be brothers too, except that my dad isn't really my dad, we adopted each other, but we're really like father and son, so it's OK for Garrick and me to be brothers because neither one of us has brothers, so we're each others."
Greg took my hand and gave it a shake and said, "Huh?"
I just giggled at that and continued to stare at him. His hand was really warm and so strong it felt like he would crush all the bones in my hand if he wasn't careful. He had a head-full of fine blond hair and deep, deep blue eyes rimmed with blond lashes. A strong Scandinavian nose led to chiseled cheeks that led to strong jaws that supported a wide, full mouth with naturally red lips. His classically handsome face was supported by a neck that looked like the piston of a large hydraulic cylinder, and about as hard and solid. The column of his neck stuck out of the collar of a T-shirt so stretched by the muscles under it that I though it might tear any second. I'd never seen such massive shoulders, not even on my Dad. His biceps were huge, dimpled where the skin formed a catenary from one bulge of muscle to another, the tight skin stretched so thin I could see the ribs in the muscle underneath.
The cords in his forearm, where they led up to the hand grasping mine looked like a bundle of Bangalor torpedoes, ready to explode. His pecs were so big they looked like a couple of briskets of beef. Hard flat planes of muscle accented by two jutting peaks that made little tents in his T-shirt. After his pecs, Greg's T-shirt dropped back down to a gut so defined that you could count the ridges through the white T-shirt. His Tee was pulled up from his waist, exposing a flat expanse of abdomen with a blond trail of glory leading from a twirled flush bellybutton south down under the seatbelt that held him in place. On the other side of the seatbelt my eyes continued their feast on a fat, squishy bundle lying between two stout thighs that rounded to an end eight or ten inches below his groin. What a STUD! What a muscle-bound, superfine STUD! My eyes headed up to explore his erotic midriff but got stuck at the imagination stirring mound between his thighs.
Angrily he threw my hand down and heatedly said, "What the fuck are YOU staring at ASSHOLE!"
Jerking my eyes away from his crotch I looked straight into his eyes. I'd already wondered what he'd think of my staring at him, so I was ready. "You stud. Where DID you get ALL those muscles?" Looking at his torso again, I continued, "Damn Sam, you make Hercules look like a wimp. Are those muscles as hard as they look?"
"Huh?" he said again, the confused look back on his face.
"Is that all the conversation you've got? `Huh' and yelling?" I asked, not really interested in an answer. Without asking, I turned around and sat down in his lap, put my feet up on the tubing supports for the front wheels and grabbed the armbars. "Give me a ride, man."
Greg gasped and said, "Huh?"
"There you go with the brilliant conversation again." I started scooting back and forth like a little kid trying to get his pedal car started, which just happened to rub my butthole back and forth across the springy soft bulge I was sitting on. "Come'on. Go. Go. Go!" I urged.
With a laugh and one sweep of his powerful arms, Greg sent us shooting down the sidewalk. "You're crazy, man!"
"Yeah, but this is a lot more fun than arguing."
He laughed out loud and yelled, "No shit!" Three more strokes of his arms had us zooming down the sidewalk about 900 miles an hour. Suddenly he grabbed the push rims and slammed us to an almost stop and spun us 180 ° and took off the other direction. I was almost thrown out of the chair and squealed in almost-make-believe fear. Greg spun around the other direction and then back the other way again, continuing to spin for three or four revolutions. My hands were slipping off the chrome armrests so I reached behind me and grabbed Greg around the middle, holding on with my arms behind me as he spun me back and forth. The mound under me was getting more and more firm and I was grabbing it with my buttcheeks as I howled in laughter and screamed in fear at the same time.
Greg quit spinning and headed back up the sidewalk, only he was reared back on the hind wheels, the front wheels a foot off the ground. I held on to Greg as hard as I could and screamed in mock terror of falling backwards. Well, it was partly mock terror anyway!
Greg used his abdominal muscles to bounce me off of him and I yelled even louder and clutched at my grip around him. Greg kept bouncing me off his stomach and every time he did I'd squeal and laugh and grab hold of him with my hands and buttcheeks. Greg kept bouncing me, sort of hunching into my butt with each abdominal thrust.
Finally, Greg turned up the sidewalk to Garrick's house and dropped the front wheels to the ground near where Garrick was still laying on the grass. I jerked over to the side and dumped us, wheelchair and all, into the grass. Greg yelled and tried to catch himself. I turned and pulled the quick release on Greg's seatbelt, managing to get a handful, a very pleasant handful, in the process.
I yelled, "Got'cha," and scrambled off on all fours at high speed.
Greg yelled, "You little shit," and long-armed me, catching me by the ankle. The next thing I knew he'd swarmed up over me and was tickling and poking at me without mercy. Gasping for breath between bouts of hysterical laughter, I called for Garrick to come save me from the Mad Rapist. Faster than shit falling down an outhouse hole, Garrick was on top of us and it became a three-way free-for-all. Three boys rolling around on the lawn, attacking each other with wild abandon. Peals of laughter and shouts of injured innocence erupted with startling frequency.
Garrick was just wearing shorts and tennis shoes and pretty soon Greg and I were dressed the same only Greg was short a pair of tennis shoes. I was getting squished under and between masses of muscle from both of the other boys and loving every second of it. At one point my shorts got pulled down, exposing my bare butt. Greg took the opportunity to give me a good swat before he jerked my pants back up for me. It felt so good that I bit his protruding tit by way of thanks, and got my butt swatted again for my efforts. How's that for gratitude? (Great! Sez I.)
It didn't take long for us to collapse into a pile of exhausted, sweaty boy flesh. Panting for breath and dozing in the warm sunshine. Lying there with my chest on Greg's back and Garrick laying across Greg's butt and my back, I felt WONDERFUL.
"Damn!" Greg said.
I lifted my weight off of Greg (and so did Garrick, only not as quick) and said, "What's the matter, Greg. Did you get hurt?"
"No, I'm fine. But I've got to get to the bathroom, RIGHT NOW!"
I got up and told Garrick, "You carry Greg to the bathroom Big Brother. I'll hold the door open."
Garrick reached down for Greg, but Greg fought him off, slapping his hands away.
"What's the matter Greg?" I asked. "I thought you had to hurry to the bathroom?"
"I can take care of myself." He said with an angry/hurt voice.
"Of course you can. But that don't get you to the bathroom. You too proud to let your friends help you?" I asked.
Greg just turned his head to the side. I think he was probably willing to mess himself rather than ask for help. Garrick didn't say anything, he just reached down and took his friend under the arms and lifted him up until they were chest to chest.
"Oof! Man, you're as solid as a brick!" Garrick grunted as he staggered off towards the door I was holding open.
"Give him a break and put your arms around his neck, Greg." I ordered.
Greg put his arms over Garrick's shoulders, balancing his weight so Garrick could balance more easily. That brought their faces close together and Greg said, "Kiss me and you die, fool."
Garrick laughed and said, "Kiss me and you'll bounce off my dick on the way down, fool."
I ran down the hallway and opened the door to the bathroom. Garrick/Greg went around the door and Garrick held Greg over the toilet.
"Hold him there Garrick," I said. I went around Garrick and knelt down. I reached up and pulled Greg's shorts down over his slim hips and tight butt. Man, his dick and balls were just as pretty as the rest of him. Smooth and firm, shining with health and male juices. I'd never seen anyone with a foreskin that full and long before. I took a hold of Greg's fluffed up dick and used it like a handle to guide him onto the seat as Garrick bent over and lowered Greg's butt.
No sooner did Greg touch the seat then he cut wind and two or three turds shot into the water. I finished tucking Greg's dick down into the toilet bowl (it just about hit the water I noticed), Greg put one hand on the wall and the other on the sink next to the toilet as Garrick carefully let go of Greg, making sure he was balanced and secure.
I could see that Greg was embarrassed, having Garrick and me watch him on the pot, so, waving my hand in front of my nose, I said, "Pheeew! What a stink. Come on Garrick, let's get out of here before he gasses us to death." I headed for the door, making a big deal over turning on the exhaust fan.
Garrick said, "Uh, Yeah. OK." and followed me out.
I closed the door and motioned for Garrick to follow me down the hall. When we got to the living room I whirled and, with every bit of strength in my small body, punched him in the balls as hard as I could. The air exploded from his lungs as he folded over and fell to the livingroom rug. I jumped on him and started pounding him with both fists. Tears streaming from my eyes, I called him, "a mother fucking, low-life, scum-sucking, ball-less, turd-eating, no-good." And then I got REALLY angry.
Garrick finally managed to roll over on top of me and pin my arms and feet so I couldn't hit him any more. I burst out into tears and sobbed, "You son-of-a-bitch!"
Hurt, confused, and mad as hell, Garrick asked me, "What the fuck's the matter with you, shrimp?"
"You don't have a fuckin' clue, do you, `Big Brother' (I called him that with all the sarcasm and disdain at my command)."
"Other than thinking that you've gone crazy on me, NO. I don't have a clue. And if you don't clue me in pretty soon, I'm going to pound you into paste you little creep." (Isn't brotherly love wonderful?)
"Some friend you are. You gonna dump me too when you get interested in something else? Or are you just going to use me and drop me when it's convenient?" I sneered at him.
Garrick lifted my arms and shoulders and bounced my head on the rug. "What the fuck are you talking about. You're not making any sense at all."
"Didn't you see how disappointed Greg was when you said you weren't going to study? Didn't you hear what Greg told me after we were done wrestling?"
Angrily, Garrick said, "NO! I didn't hear what Greg said to you. One last time you little shit. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"
"Keep your voice down, asshole. Or do you want to hurt Greg even worse than you already have?"
"What the HELL? I've never hurt Greg. Talk, Joey! Talk or die, NOW!!!"
"While we were laying there in that pile Greg told me that that was the first time since he was four years old that anyone had played with him. Just played with him like he was a real person. He said that no one had even touched him other than his mom and the doctors and nurses when they were taking care of him. How could you, Garrick? How could you hurt him like that? You said you were his friend, and you wouldn't even touch him?"
I rolled Garrick off of me. He didn't resist at all. His eyes were glazed and his mouth was hanging open in shock. As I stood there looking down at him he reached up and grasped my thigh in his cold hand, a beseeching look on his face. I kicked him in the chest as hard as I could and pushed his hand off of me. "Don't touch me you creep. Don't you ever touch me again. Go upstairs to your room and stay out of sight. I'll take care of Greg and make sure he gets home safely. OK! Then I'm going to call a cab and go home. I don't think I want to know you any more."
"Fuck off, Garrick. If you have any decency at all you'll be out of sight when I get back with Greg's wheelchair. You know... the one he's been trapped in all his life."