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All of my stories are listed in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Authors under the name of Lee Mariner.

My friend Dean has edited this work and his assistance is greatly appreciated.

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Chapter XVII

A raging piss hard usually roused me in the mornings, but  Dalton's hard cock pressing against my ass was a not unpleasant experience.  His warm breath against the nape of my neck would have been enough, but his snoring was like a kitten purring, and it sent waves of erotic feelings washing over me.   "God,  what a way to wake up,"  I thought to myself as I lifted his arm from over my chest.  I was trying not to wake him but that was an exercise in futility, he squeezed me tighter, mumbling groggily, "not yet Carl, it's too early to get up."

"The clock on the desk says it's after seven-thirty, Squirt," I said, twisting around to face him. "Besides, early or late, I need to piss; and we've been putting off cleaning the garage for two days."

He groaned in resignation; and, opening his eyes, he raised his lips to mine.  "Oh no, not until we brush our teeth," I said, rolling over him.

We rolled out of bed together and went to the bathroom, hard cocks  waving like deadly sabers.  It always seems as if the dam will never burst but when it did we both sighed and played at crossing golden streams of urine. The toilet water foamed and rapidly changed from clear sparkling water to a brilliant yellow.

No sooner had he finished milking the last drops of morning urine, than he gripped me in a bear hug.  His eyes glistened, and his lips on mine were soft and yielding.  There was no sense of urgency in the kiss, just the soft feeling of love that flowed between us combined with the hardening of our cocks.  His mouth was peppermint fresh, and I felt the passion building as his tongue lazily twisted with mine.  When we separated our lips, he leaned his head back, grinning impishly, and started slowly moving his hips, rolling his cock over mine.

"Oh, no you don't," I whispered, fighting the desire welling up inside of me, "there will be plenty of time for love making later, sexpot."

"What's the matter? You can't handle your kid brother?"  He said, his eyes sparkling.

"Teasing won't get it either, Dalt, really, we have things to do before we go to the lake."

"You're right," He said, sighing and dropping his arms from around me.

There was no disappointment in his eyes, just the fun he was having playing with me.  If he had kept it up though, he would have succeeded and the garage would have taken second priority.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when we opened the basement door.  Her eyes lit up when she saw us, "Morning, boys, ready for breakfast?" She said cheerily.

"Morning, Mom," we said together as I walked across the kitchen to the coffee pot.

"Pour me a cup will you, Carl?" Dalton asked as he sat down at the table. I looked at him questioningly.

"One cup with your brother, Dalton, no more. Growing boys need milk." Mother said.

"Mom. . . . .I'm almost seventeen and just about as big as Carl," he whined, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Being almost and about are not the same, Dalton, and you know it," she said as she got up from the table.

"Yes ma'am.........." he answered softly, sticking his tongue out at me when her back was turned.

"One cup for little brother," I said, teasing him as I set the coffee in front of him.

"I'll show you who's little, later," he whispered, glancing in the direction of where Mom was standing at the stove.

"I know who is little," I whispered, winking at him.

He started to reply when we heard Mom, "it's not polite to whisper,"  she said firmly while breaking eggs in her large black iron skillet. We both grinned sheepishly at each other from being chastised for being impolite.

Sipping my coffee, I watched Mom deftly preparing our breakfast and couldn't help but wonder whether she had realized the gist of what we were teasing each other about.   If she had, there was no indication of it, as she prepared our plates.

"Are we still going to drive up to the lake after we clean the garage?" Dalton asked, breaking into my thoughts.

"I don't see why not," I answered without looking at him, still watching Mother.

"It shouldn't take too long to finish cleaning the garage if we start right after we eat," he said, nudging my leg.

"That depends on how much junk there is, Dalt. From what I saw yesterday, there is an awful lot of stuff that needs to be gone through," I answered, leaning back from the table as Mom sat loaded plates in front of us.

"Now then," she said, sitting across from us. "What is this about cleaning the garage and going up to the lake?"

Dalton looked at me and, when I nodded, started explaining our plans.  In his excitement he was trying to eat and talk at the same time.  Smiling at him, Mother put her hand on his forearm and said softly, "It is difficult enough to understand you when you are excited; but, with a mouthful of food, it is almost impossible."

"I'm sorry, Mom," he mumbled as he swallowed.

"Now then, let us start over," she said softly. "You boys are going to clean the garage and then do what?"

"We thought, we would clean the garage so either Dalton or Dad could park his car inside instead of leaving both out in the weather.  If we stack a lot of the boxes in the back and put some of the other stuff like your old ironing board and the sleds we used when we were kids up on the rafters, there should be room for one of the cars." I answered.

"And after you finish that job you were going to drive up to the lake," she said, as she got the coffee pot from the stove.

"If there is enough time," I said, hastily adding,"unless there is something you want done."

"I've been wanting your Father and Dalton to clean out the garage for some time, Carlton, but they always seemed to have other things to do," she said glancing at Dalton as she refreshed hers and my coffee.

Dalton hesitated before pushing his cup across the table. With a smile, she refilled his cup, "I guess, since your brother is here, two cups won't hurt you."

                                                                            * * * * * * * * * *

Cleaning out the garage did not prove to be too much of a task, and there was really not too much to be thrown out. There were some empty paint cans and bottles that we put in a large galvanized trash can along with old newspapers and magazines.  The  tricycle that had been given to me at Christmas, supposedly from Santa Claus  when I was six-years old, was stuck in the corner under an old paint drop cloth.  It brought back pleasant memories.

"Hey, Dalt, did you ever ride this thing?" I asked after pulling the covering off of it.

"Your old tricycle?" he answered, turning around from where he had been stacking boxes. " Yeah, when I was five or six.   Dad cleaned it up and he told me you wouldn't  mind if I used it. Maybe we should give it to the Salvation Army along with the sleds. Some other kids might like to have them."

"That's a good idea, Dalt, no need for them to rust away when the're still good," I said.

Even with the garage door rolled up on its overhead runners, it was still hot and stuffy. It didn't take long before we both were sweating, and we stripped off our shirts. Dalton's body glistened with sweat as we worked together, his muscles rippling and bulged with power.  In comparison with other men I had seen naked, if he continued working out, he was going to be a powerfully built young man by the time he reached his full potential. I felt a sense of pride in my breast, knowing that I may have had something to do with the way he took care of himself although I hadn't been around very often. There had always been the normal big brother-little brother bond; but, discovering he had the same feelings and desires I had at his age, made the bond between us even closer.  I guess, in a way I was Dalton's mentor much as Jerry had been mine. 

"Hey, Dalt, how about we snitch a couple of Dad's beers when we're finished? I don't think he would mind; besides, this is hot work," I said.

"Tell me about it; I never realized we had so much junk," he answered as he slid the last box in place. "We'll need to shower before we leave for the lake, I can feel the sweat running down the crack of my ass."

"You are a sexy looking devil, all sweaty," I said, grinning.

"Look who's talking," he answered, his eyes flashing. "Sweaty or not, you're the sexiest man I've seen."

"Flattery will get you most things, Dalt, but not now. Finish sweeping the floor while I get the beer." I answered, feeling a sense of pride at his compliment.

                                                                             * * * * * * * * * *

We were standing in the garage doorway drinking our beers and admiring our handiwork when we heard Mother's voice behind us.

"Dalton Evers, your father will have your hide if he catches you drinking," she said sharply.

"One beer is not going to hurt him, Mom," I said, turning to face her.

"I should have known you would take up for him, Carlton," she answered.

"The Evers boys stick together, Mom," Dalton answered, just a little too smugly.

"Don't go getting sassy with me young man just because Carlton is here.  You know your Father does not approve of it."  She said but there was no anger in her voice.

I could see a look of amusement in her eyes despite her disapproval and  just as Dalton was about to reply in his defense, I spoke up.

"Don't fuss at Dalton, Mom, it was my fault," I said trying to sound conciliatory.

There was a slightly embarrassed pause until, with a twinkle in her eyes, she smiled, saying, "I don't know what I am going to do with you two."

"Love us as much as we love you, Mom," Dalton said as he lifted her chin and gave her a peck on the lips.

"My heavens, Dalton Evers, you'll be the death of me yet," she said, trying not to act embarrassed. "I came out here to see if you wanted some lunch before you boys leave. Do you?"

"Thanks, Mom. We can get something to eat, later, at the lake," I answered.  "Right now, we both need to clean up."

I could tell by the set of her jaw that she was not to be put off, and I was right.

"And while you are doing that, I will pack you both a lunch. There is no need to be spending good money for food when there is plenty in my kitchen," she said firmly, turning on her heels, preceding us into the house.

                                                                     * * * * * * * * * *

Mother's lunch turned out to be a fully packed picnic basket that would have fed several healthy young men.  She would not listen as we tried to protest and we resigned ourselves to accepting her wisdom where food was concerned. 

"You boys be careful and don't forget to call me if you aren't going to be home for supper," she said, watching as we put the picnic basket in the back seat.

"We will never eat all of that food, Dalt," I said quietly, hoping she didn't hear.

"That's Mom for you, Carl. She won't take "no" for an answer once her mind is made up," Dalton said as we got into the car.

"Maybe, but half of what she put in that basket is going to spoil and I hate throwing good food away," I answered as he drove down the drive.

"If we rent a cottage, there might be a refrigerator; and we can put what we don't eat in it," he answered cheerfully.

The drive from Richmond to Lake Gaston was a leisurely hour and a half.  Morgan's junkyard was on the outskirts of the city; and Dalton slowed down as we drove by it, probably,  in hopes of seeing Jeff, but no one was in sight.  He didn't say anything as we sped up and left the city, but I had the feeling that he was thinking about Jeff.  I couldn't blame him for that; Jeff was a good looking boy; and I could understand why Dalton was attracted to him.  There had been one boy in particular that I had the hots for when I was in school, but he never knew it.  Kids Dalton's age did not have cars or much of anything right after the war.  Things had loosened up, but gay sex was still something that stayed in the closet.   At least Dalton and Jeff had found out about each other, and that was more than I ever knew when I left and joined the navy.

Endless cornfields rushed by, and neither of us said very much; both of us lost in our own thoughts.  I was thinking about my next duty assignment in Panama when Dalton broke in as if he knew I had been thinking about Jeff after we had passed the junkyard.

"Do you like Jeff, Carl?"

"That all depends on how you mean it, Dalt. Do I like him, yes, but not sexually.  I don't seek out young boys for sex," I answered, turning to face him with one leg up on the seat.

"You like having sex with me, and I'm almost the same age as Jeff," he answered, glancing at me, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's not the same thing, Dalt; and you know it, I didn't seek you out if you remember; you came on to me," I said, punching him gently in the ribs.

"No I didn't!!" he said, feigning anger. "We both sort of came on to each other and it took a lot of nerve for me to do it, I was scared silly."

"You must have had plenty of nerve," I said, remembering how shy he had seemed. "You came on pretty hot after we were in the shower together."

"I almost lost it at first but I guess it was the way you didn't push me that caused me to really realize what I am, Carl. I'd been wanting someone I could talk with about being gay; and, when Dad told me you were coming home, you don't know how excited I was.  Whether you were gay or not didn't matter, just so long as we could talk about it.  You'll never know how good it felt having you hold me; and, after that first time, I knew girls would never satisfy me the way you did," he said softly, his voice trailing off.

I knew in my mind how he had felt, remembering the first time Jerry and I had been in bed together.  Someone sucking your cock was raw release, but being in bed with another man for the first time was a lasting experience. The difference between Jerry and Dalton, was that Dalton was my kid brother; and, while I liked Jerry, I loved Dalton. 

"Did you and Jeff talk about how you felt?"

"Not until the other night when we went to the park.  We talked and sort of hedged around it before we finally admitted to each other that we were gay. Jeff told me he had been hanging around hoping, but he didn't have the nerve to make a pass or something like that.  It's hard to admit something like that to someone, Carl, even though you can feel it. We didn't do anything until later in the car, but at least we knew how we felt about each other."

"Do you love him?"

"No, at least I don't think I do.  I like Jeff. I've always liked him, but I don't feel about him the way I do you. Is that wrong?" he asked, quickly glancing over at me.

"No," I answered, thinking back over some to the things Jerry and I had discussed. "Liking someone is almost the same as love, just not as intense a feeling.  The way you and I feel about each other is love since we are brothers.  Knowing we are gay, increases the intensity of that bond since we have something more in common that other brothers don't have.  We love each other because we are brothers and we are gay, but that does not prevent us for having feelings for someone else.  You and Jeff have had your first encounter, and you both liked it. There are feelings between you that might grow into love for each other, or you both might just enjoy the sex between you.  It's hard to say, Dalt,  but don't push it; it takes time."

"You're probably right, Carl; I won't really know how I'll feel about him until we've been in bed together and not in the back seat of a car.  Like you say, it might be the sex," he said wistfully as he turned off on the by-pass that would take us to the lake.

                                                                            * * * * * * * * * *

The trees that surrounded Lake Gaston had grown since I had last been there.  It was still a reservoir for Indianapolis and Richmond, but the wooded land around it had been developed into a resort. We could see summer cottages and year round homes nestled in among the trees.  The town of Lake Gaston had sprung up on the lake shore and the state had built a connecting by-pass to it for easier access.  When I was younger, it was a favorite camping area for the Boy Scouts; and several ramshackle huts had been built on the shore line for fishing.   It had developed into a small but active town of hotels, marinas and the usual trappings that entertained the summer tourist trade. 

"It's changed since you were here last, Carl," Dalton said as he slowed down.

The street was filled with parked cars, and the sidewalks were crowded with people including some very attractive well built young men wearing swim suits and open shirts.  I couldn't help but wonder whether there was any gay life in the resort.

"It was nothing like this, Dalt. Someone has made a lot of money," I said without looking at him.

"Old man Miller did.  He sent a lot of material up here when they were building.  He still does when someone puts up a new building or house."

"I'm surprised he didn't open a branch here instead of hauling it, Dalt.  Lets see if we can find a real-estate office."

Finding a real-estate office didn't take much time, because every other building seemed to have one.  I spotted one that had the name, Lake Gaston Realty. It wasn't as flashy as some of the others and I guess that's what attracted me to it, that and the pink triangle I saw in the lower right corner of the window.

"Let's try that one, Dalt," I said, pointing in its direction. "We might get lucky."

"We'll be lucky if I can find a parking spot," he answered.

"Turn down that alley, Dalt; they have a rear parking area according to that sign." I said, pointing out the sign and alley.

                                                                    * * * * * * * * * *

There was an "open" sign in the door window; but, looking through the glass, we could't see anyone inside. There were several filing cabinets along one wall, with two wooden desks sitting in the middle of the room.  Four long florescent lights hung down from the tall ceilings, and there was a halfwall partition with an open doorway dividing the room.  When I opened the door, an old fashioned warning bell tinkled over our heads, startling us for a few moments.   No one came into the office in answer to the tinkling bell; but, just as Dalt and I turned to leave, a hidden voice boomed out, "give me a minute and I'll be right out."

Dalton, and I, were looking at each other with puzzled looks when a tall, broad shouldered middle aged man walked into the office, drying his hands with paper towels.   His dark hair was flecked with gray and his eyes were a brilliant blue.  "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, tossing the crumpled towels into a nearby waste basket. "My secretary is out to lunch and I. . . . well, I was tied up in back for a few minutes.  I'm Jake Ballard, how can I belp you?"

"Carlton Evers, Mr. Ballard. This is my brother Dalton," I said, moving towards him and extending my hand.

His grip was firm and when he answered, his brilliant, even white teeth flashed, "call me Jake, Carlton, nice meeting you both."

"We're looking for a rental cottage for a few days Jake. I  know its the middle of summer, but we're hoping to find something."

"It depends on how picky you are, Carlton," he said motioning for us to sit at one of the desks. "There aren't any cottages with lake views, but I have one that sits up on the side of a hill that's available.  The only problem is, you guys would have to drive or walk into town if you're looking for action."

"How far is it and how big, Jake," I asked, watching as he pulled out a large map.

He spread the map on the desk after moving a few items. Smoothing the map with his large, well manicured hands, he pointed to a spot, "right there Carlton.  It's about a half a mile from town and maybe a hundred yards back in the woods.  The owner built it as a hideway, but, since he passed away, his wife seldom ever uses it.  It's an A-frame with an outside deck on three sides. Inside it has a large common room that includes the kitchen.  The bath and one bedroom are on the main floor under the loft that serves as another bedroom.  A short hallway leads to a rear door and separates the downstairs bedroom from the bath.  It has everything you would need except food and rents for $450.00 a week," he said, looking at us intently.

"$450.00 a week," Dalton said from behind me, whistling low.

"That's because it sits so far back from the lake, Dalton. If it were closer, the rent would be almost double that," Jake said, smiling as he looked up at Dalton.

"Can we see it, Jake," I asked.

"Sure," He said. "My secretary should be back shortly, and we can run up there.  How many will be using it?"

"Probably four of us," I answered.  "Is the rent any higher?"

"The only restrictions, Carlton, are that you make a deposit of one week's rent. If you leave it the same way you rented it, the deposit will be refunded. If there is any damage, an itemized list will be furnished with the balance," he answered, looking up at the sound of the tinkling bell.

An attractive young lady walked into the office, apologizing as she closed the door, "I'm sorry I'm late, Dad.  The Calico Room was jammed full."

"At this time of the year, I can believe that, Tracey. This is Carlton and his brother Dalton," Jake said, introducing us.

"I'm happy to meet you," she said nodding at Dalton and me.

"Our pleasure," Dalton and I said, almost in unison.

"They might be renting the Anderson property," Jake said, as he stood up. "We're going to run up and take a look at it."

"You'll like it; the cottage sits in the woods; and it's nice and quiet, not like the noise here in town, " Tracey said as she returned from hanging her jacket on a clothes rack in the back of the office.

"It sounds just like what we are looking for, Tracey," I said.

"If you want peace and quiet, it's the right place," Jake said. "If you guys are ready, we can check it out. There isn't anything pending right now, Tracey, but we shouldn't be gone long if anyone calls."

                                                                     * * * * * * * * * *
Jake's old Jeep Carry-all had seen better days, but it was probably what he needed when showing properties.  The trip to where the cottage was located only took about twenty minutes; and both Tracey and Jake were right, the cottage was isolated.  A gravel road led from the main road to the cottage and wrapped around behind  it revealing a parking area.  The underbrush had been cleared away on either side of the cottage; but even with that, the denseness of the trees isolated it from the main road. 

Dalt and I followed Jake inside, and it was exactly as he described it.  The furnishings were probably castoffs from the Anderson home, but it all seemed to be in good condition.  The bedroom had a standard size bed, two bureau's for clothing and a single fan/light combination hanging from the ceiling.  There was a ladder built into the wall for access to the loft, and that's where Dalt headed.

"Hey, Carl," he called down. "There's plenty of room up here, big enough for more than one bed if you needed it."

"How many beds are there now?" I asked.

"Just one," he answered.

"That's all you will be needing. We aren't moving in permenantly, you know." I responded, grinning at Jake.

"You could if you wanted to, Carlton.  The owners would like to sell if you might be interested, and I'm sure you could get it at a good price. The property consists of six acres, so there wouldn't be any intrusion by builders."  Jake said.

"We only want it for a week, Jake.  Dalton is still in school, and my being in the navy wouldn't give either of us much time to use it," I answered, looking around.

"That's understandable, but you might want to think about it.  It's going to be a good investment for someone.  Sooner or later, there will be more people building up in these woods, and it can't help but increase in value because there isn't much room for building on the lake."

"I'm sure you're right, Jake; but for right now, just a week." I answered.

"That's okay by me, when do you want it?"

"Can we have it for next week?" I asked.

"You can move in today if you want to, Carlton.  I'll write the lease for one week starting next Monday, a couple of extra days won't make any difference."

                                                                             * * * * * * * * * *

It didn't take long to write the lease after we returned to Jake's office and for me to sign over ten one hundred dollar Travelers Cheques.