Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright, dated June 2003, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force.  All Rights are reserved.

This adult fantasy depicts homosexual acts and it is intended for ADULT READERS ONLY.  If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this material or should you not approved of such material, please leave.

As always, I appreciate the assistance of my friend, Dean, and his invaluable editing skills.

All of my stories are listed in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's:


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Chapter XXXI

The street had gotten crowded while I was in Jake's office, and I managed to run into a young couple as I rushed out of his office. 

"Damn," I exclaimed, reaching out automatically to catch the young lady before she fell from the force of me running into her.  "I am so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."

"That's okay, Mister; no harm done," the young man who was with her answered.  "We should have been watching where we were going instead of talking."

We stood for a moment while the young lady composed herself.  My face felt like it was on fire, and my heart was racing from the effects of the sudden impact.  Breathing in deeply and holding my hands in a helpful mode between the young lady and me, I asked in a conciliatory tone, "Are you sure you're all right?  That was a pretty good jolt that I gave you."

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered, looking at me and then her escort.  "Jimmy's right; we should have been looking where we were going."

"Well, I am sorry; and I should have been looking where I was going instead of being in such a hurry; but, if you are sure you are all right...," I said hesitantly, feeling like an idiot as I looked at my watch.

"We're okay, Sir; no harm done," Jimmy said again, as they turned away continuing down the sidewalk.

I was watching them walking away as I regained my composure when Jake came out of his office exclaiming, "Damn, Carl, I saw you guys run into each other, are you okay?"

"It was my fault, Jake; I was in a hurry to meet Dalton and Tip at the pavilion, and I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Tip's been showing Dalton around?"

"They went swimming.  Tip rode his bike to the cottage earlier this morning and asked him if he wanted to go," I replied, not mentioning that he and Lyle had ridden over together.

"They should have fun, but you dashed out of the office before I could ask the two of you over for dinner tonight. I should have information on the property, and Tracey is not going to let me get away twice."

"Damn, I can't keep on refusing without a logical reason,"  I thought, hesitating for a second before answering, " I did want to see Tracey, Jake; and we don't have any plans for dinner except maybe going back to the restaurant where we had dinner last night."

"Good," he exclaimed. "How about seven-thirty?  You won't have to look for a house address, Carl, as we live in the apartment over the office," he said.

"We'll see you then, Jake," I said, asking as I turned away. "Is there anything we can bring?"

"Just yourselves; Tracey will take care of eveything else," he said.


When I reached the pavilion, there was no one hanging around that I could see; but Dalton's car was still parked beside Jake's office building.  Breathing in deeply, I looked around again to be sure I hadn't missed them. Spotting a drink machine at the end of the pavilion, I got a can of Coke before sitting on one of the benches that lined the concrete walkway. 

I had finished almost half of my drink when I saw two swimmers racing furiously toward the beach. "That must be they." I thought to myself as I stood and slowly moved to the other side of the walkway for a better view.    I hadn't seen Dalton nor Tip, for that matter, swim; but they seemed to be evenly matched, swimming stroke for stroke.  They both had dark hair and I couldn't tell who was whom until they suddenly stopped swimming and stood up in water just over their knees.  They both were laughing and shaking the water from their hair, and I recognized Dalton immediately.  He was a little bigger than Tip but not very much.  Tip seemed to be wearing a pair of white cutoffs that probably had been a pair of white jeans at one time, and Dalton was wearing the black swimsuit he had picked out when we went shopping last night after supper.  They both did a little mock boxing, laughing and feinting punches at each other as most sixteen year old teenagers would do, while they waded onto shore.

I leaned against one of the lamp posts watching them playing for a few minutes before Dalton spotted me.  Turning, he said something to Tip and pointed in my direction.  They both waved, and Dalton hollered something that I couldn't make out.  When I pointed at my ear and shook my head, he waved his arm, pointing in the direction of the bath house located adjacent to the boat house.


A grizzled old man was leaning back against the outside wall of the boat house in a rickety chair,  He was playing with a short length of rope not paying any attention to me until I dropped my Coke can in the trash basket a few feet away from where he was sitting.  He raised his head and peered at me from under the bill of the well worn boatman's cap he was wearing. 

"Nice day," he grunted as he leaned forward in his chair. "I don't reckon you're going swimming; I don't see no towel. Maybe you want a boat; I got one left?"

"No, Sir," I said, laughing. " No swimming, and I'm not dressed for boating, not today.  I'm going to meet my brother and a friend of his at the bath house; they've been swimming."

"You must mean Tip Coleman and that boy Dalton that's with him. I saw 'em playing like a couple of young'uns afore they swam on out to the float. They've been out there for a spell."

"They've swum back in, Sir; they're at the bath house," I said, grinning at his homey gruffness.

"I usually get fifty cents if'n you use the bath house; but, seein' as how you ain't going swimming, I reckon you can go inside with 'em if you want," he said, indicating the conversation was over by picking up his piece of rope and leaning back in his chair.

I watched his gnarled fingers work the rope for a few seconds before leaving.  He expertly flipped the rope into a sheepshank knot, following it with a running bowline. It had taken me awhile to learn those knots and several others after I joined the navy, but the dexterity of his fingers showed years of experience. 

Dalton and Tip were waiting for me at the wooden ramp, their wet bodies glistening in the warm bright sunlight.  Dalton aimed a playful punch at my gut exclaiming, "What took you so long, we could have changed by now?"

Warding off his punch, I grabbed his arm and, spinning him around, pulled him against me in a bear hug as I said, "I was talking with some old man sitting outside the boat house door if you must know what took me so long."

"Old man Shelmacher," Tip said with a twinkle in his eyes, grinning at Dalton struggling in my arms.  "He'll talk your ear off if you give him half a chance."

"He knew you two were out on the float, and he seems to know his knots.  He tied a couple that took me a long time to learn," I replied as I released Dalton. 

"Shelmacher don't miss much, Carl.  The old booger has lived here longer than anyone can remember," Tip said as we went up the wooden ramp into the bath house.

"He was here when we used to come here with Mom and Dad, Carl," Dalton said as I followed them to their locker.

"I remember we came here for a picnic; and we swam, Dalt; but I don't remember seeing him,"  I said, noticing a few older men and a couple of boys younger than Tip or Dalton walking around with towels around their waists.

"We didn't use the bath house back then, Carl; we changed clothes in the car, remember?"

"That, I do remember, Dalt.  Dad said something about not wasting money.  I think you were two years old and I was almost thirteen," I said, sitting down and facing the front,  while they changed out of their wet suits. "How long has your family been here, Tip?"

"I guess we moved here about ten years ago, Carl,"  he answered, turning around and shaking out his wet cutoffs, his flaccid cock wriggling vigorously as he shook them.  "My old man thought he could find work down here building houses, but that work petered out not long after we got here.  For awhile, he thought about going back to Milwaukee, but we're still here," he said, wistfully.

I could see from a quick comparison that Dalton was a little larger than Tip.  Dalton was heavier muscled and had broader shoulders, while Tip's muscles were lean, and he had a swimmer's body.  They both had narrow hips, hard flat stomachs and well muscled thighs and calves.  They both were circumcised and their cocks appeared to be about the same size, but Dalton's was thicker, and his foreskin had been removed by a better doctor.  Tips cock was not as thick and there was a distinct circle behind the head where his foreskin had not been as surgically well removed.

"Tip," I asked, glancing up at Dalton who was almost dressed.  "Have you ever thought about working out with weights?"

"Yeah," he replied as he pulled his shorts on without briefs.  "Lyle and I both did for awhile, but my swimming coach told me that too much muscle was not what a swimmer wanted.  He said I should just stay trim and not bulk up.  Lyle stuck with it a little longer before he quit.  He said he might do it again if he goes in the army."

"That's a good place to pick it up again, Tip, especially while he is in basic training,"  I replied as I turned my head in the direction that Dalton was looking.

An older man had slipped up alongside of the lockers while we were talking, and he was standing just out of my line of sight, but he had a direct view of Dalton and Tip who were still dressing.  It was hard to tell his age, and he might have been a good looking man at one time in his life, but the lack of exercise and overeating was obvious from his generally poor physical apperance.  He was unshaven; his unkempt hair was more salt than pepper; and the fingers of the right hand, which was squeezing his towel-hidden cock, were stained yellow from cigarettes.

When he saw me looking at him, he turned his eyes away and moved sluggishly on down the aisle, disappearing between another two sets of lockers.

"There, but for the Grace of God, go I," I was thinking when Tip spoke softly.

"I don't know who he is, Carl, but he hangs around the bath house and the pavilion.  He gives me the willies from the way he looks at me." 

"Has he ever said anything to you, Tip?" Dalton asked.

"Nah, but he sure does a lot of looking," he answered casually as he pulled his shirt on over his head.  "Lyle told me the guy offered him twenty bucks if he'd let him suck his cock, but I don't think he let him do it.  Lyle gets pretty horny sometimes, but I don't think he would get that horny," he said, glancing at us grinning, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I don't know, Tip, you can't always tell what's inside of a book by its cover, until you read some of it," I said, thinking about Jerry and winking at Dalton as I stood up.  "You guys ready; I'm a little hungry.  But, instead of eating in a restaurant, I think we should fix some sandwiches at the cottage.   There is plenty to eat and drink, and there is no sense in buying food if we're not going to eat it."

"Hey, that's a great idea, Carl," Dalton said excitedly. 

"Then let's go, Chauffeur," I said, playfully smacking Dalton's very firm rump.


Making roast beef and ham sandwiches for two very hungry sixteen year olds, was more of a task than I had anticipated.  Both of them had wolfed down two apiece with milk before I could sit down, but that didn't satisfy their appetites. When Dalton asked for another, I looked at him and Tip feigning surprise and then smiling said,  "One more for each of you, and that's it.  I haven't had a chance to make one for myself, and three sandwiches is enough for anyone; I don't care how long you've been swimming."

"We didn't have much for breakfast, Carl, only coffee,"  Dalton said plaintively as I turned to fixing them another sandwich and heard Tip snickering.  "Yeah, with extra cream."

I couldn't help but smile when I heard Tip's comically sarcastic but astute comment.  I'd heard lots of "straight" guys jokingly make the same comment, and others less colorful when they were playing around; especially in the showers.  I was surprised, and I smiled even more when I heard Dalton exclaim softly, "Tippy," in protest.

"Tippy?" I said, raising my eyebrows questioningly as I set their third sandwichs in front of them.

"Yeah, Tippy," he answered, blushing and glancing with a withering look at Dalton, whose face was fire engine red.  "He's started calling me the same thing my mom does.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Tip," I said from the counter where I was fixing a sandwich for myself. "Lots of guys and girls have pet names they call each other by.  Sometimes, I call Dalton, 'Squirt'."

"Carlton,..," Dalton protested mildly with his mouth full.

"Well, I do, Dalt," I said as I turned away from the counter with my sandwich. "It's not because I think you are a squirt, but most older brothers have a nickname for their kid brothers, and every now and then it just sort of seems right to let you know how I feel about you without always using your name. I bet Lyle has a nickname for Tip, doesn't he, Tip?"

"Yeah, if you call 'Pain in the Ass' a nickname," Tip replied.

"Lyle doesn't really call you that, does he?" Dalton asked, glancing at Tip and grinning.

"Not all of the time, just when he gets pissed off at me," he said, answering Dalton and glancing at me. "It's usually over nothing, and I know he doesn't really mean it; so I don't mind."

"Carl used to get upset with me, didn't you Carl?"

"Not really unless you call cleaning your shitty diapers getting upset," I answered, grinning.  "I didn't like doing it; but, even though I was eleven years old, Mom was taking care of both of us; and it helped her out.  Dad got a kick out of my complaining, but he reminded me who had cleaned my ass after I was born."

"I never knew you did that, Carl," Dalton said, blushing and looking at me, his eyes showing his feelings.

"There was no reason for you to know, Dalt; it's not something that most older brothers go around bragging about." I replied. "Besides, you had a pretty cute ass when you were a baby," I said, winking at him.

"He still does, Carl, especially when he's wearing a tight bathing suit," Tip said, glancing at Dalton, his eyes twinkling.

"Now wait a minute, what is this, pick on Dalton time?" he said, laughing and playfully punching Tip in his ribs.

"Nope, I'm not picking on you, Dalt, but you do look good in a bathing suit,"  Tip replied as he returned Dalton's punch.

"And I guess you don't look good in those cutoff's you were wearing? They don't hide very much,"  he answered, as they playfully warded off fake punches with their arms.

"Maybe not; but you should see Lyle when he goes swimming," Tip said, both of them breathing heavily from playing around.
"That might be interesting," I said as I stood up and started clearing the table, unaware that Lyle had come in until he spoke.

"What might be interesting?" he said, surprising the three of us.

"Damn, Lyle," I said, almost dropping the plates.  "You still haven't learned how to knock, have you?"

"I'm not sure you would have heard me if I had, not with the way those two were going at each other," he answered, grinning and moving toward the table.

"We were just playing, Bro," Tip said. his chest heaving from the exertion of playing with Dalton. 

Lyle glanced at me smiling as he said, "If they ever were to get in a fight, Carl, we might have our hands full."

"Oh, I don't know, they look pretty evenly matched," I answered casually, glancing at Dalton who was breathing as heavily as Tip.  "We were talking while we had lunch and they started playing around.   Would you like a sandwich; there is plenty left of food left?"

"Sure," he said as he sat down, "That's if you don't mind.  I stopped at the house after I finished cutting the Hendersons' and Brattleys' grass, but Mom and Dad were gone so I rode on over."

While I fixed him a sandwich, the three of them became engrossed in talking about Lake Gaston, swimming, the pavilion and what kids do in the summer.  Lyle and Tip were doing most of the talking; but I noticed Dalton listening closely, interjecting a comment every now and then.  

While Lyle was eating his sandwich, I sat on the arm of the couch listening to them talk.  The conversation was mostly about the younger crowd with only an occassional off hand comment about sex.  Our earlier conversation about tight swim suits and who had a cute ass wasn't mentioned even though Tip had been the one who had initiated it.  He seemed less animated than he had been before Lyle joined us, but I noticed his eyes never left Lyle's face.

When he had finished eating, Lyle drained his milk glass and, looking at me, asked. "What are you guys going to be doing later?  Tip and I will be at the pavilion."

"I guess that's where we will be, won't we, Carl?"  Dalton asked, looking at me expectantly.

"I don't think so, Dalt. While I was in his office, Jake invited us for dinner, and I couldn't think of a reason to turn him down again,"  I replied. "I didn't have a chance to mention it while we've been talking."

"Oh!" he replied, sounding a little disappointed.

Silence fell for a moment, and then Lyle said, "Maybe we will see you tomorrow if you don't have anything you want to do.  I don't have anything to do; and, if you want, we can either go swimming or maybe sailing."

"Hey, that sounds like a good idea," Tip and Dalton said excitedly.

"The swimming sounds okay, but I get enough sailing in the navy. How about taking that hike in the woods you mentioned, Lyle?" I asked tentatively.  "We've pretty well eaten most of the lunch meat, but we can get some sandwiches made at the deli in town and have a sort of picnic."

"That sounds even better, Carl," Lyle said, glancing at me with a sly grin and winking as he stood up. "We can drive over to a picnic grove that's on the other side of the lake. Not many tourists go there."

"Yeah," Tip said. "It's been at least two years since we were there. We can build a fire and maybe roast hotdogs. Have you ever done that, Dalt?"

"Neither one of us has that I know of, Tip; but it should be fun," I answered, looking at Dalt as Tip and Lyle started for the door.

"Come over about the same time as this morning,"  I said, standing behind Dalton in the doorway.  "We'll have coffee ready."


"Do we really have to have dinner with Jake and Tracey, Carlie?"  Dalton asked, leaning back against me as Tip and Lyle disappeared around the corner of the cottage.

Putting my arms around him and hugging him tightly, I kissed him behind the ear, whispering, "I'm afraid we do, Squirt, especially since Jake is helping us buy the cottage."

I felt his muscles tighten as he inhaled deeply, and then he hollered "What?" so loud that I was sure that all of Lake Gaston had heard him, and I instinctively clapped my hand over his mouth.

"Christ, Dalt, there's no need to get so excited; it's not a done deal yet,"  I said as I released him, turning to go back inside.

"Carlie," he said, following me, still excited.  "You didn't tell me that you were thinking about buying the cottage.  Jesus, that would be great."

"I wasn't, Dalt, at least, not until this afternoon,"  I said, inhaling deeply as I striped my shirt off and threw it on the couch.   "While I was talking with Jake, he started telling me about the good deal he could probably get since the Andersons were anxious to sell.   I still wasn't sure I could afford it ; but, when he reminded me about the government benifits that would help with a veterans loan, I figured why not.  It won't hurt to see if we can swing it."

As I dropped down into one of the living room chairs, Dalton knelt between my legs; and, putting his forearms over my pelvis, he leaned forward looking into my eyes, and I could see the thoughts gathering as he looked at me. His eyes shone with excitement; and, inhaling deeply he gulped as he exhaled, a torrent of questions cascading forth, 

 "How long will it take, Carlie; when will Jake let you know if we can get it?  Would it be all right if Mom and Dad used it on weekends?  I bet they will be tickled to death,"  he said, hardly stopping to breathe.

It made me feel good hearing him, saying "we", it confirmed deep inside of me that he wasn't thinking of just himself, but both of us and our parents.  Running my fingers though his thick hair, I said slowly, "Easy, easy, kid, it isn't ours yet. There is a lot to do before it is; so, lets not get too excited until it is.  Jake said he would have more information this afternoon, and that's one of the reasons we are having dinner with them, Dalt.  But, before you tell Lyle or Tip, let's be sure, okay?"

"I promise, Carlie, that I won't say a word to anyone," he answered, running his hands over my stomach and thighs as he leaned back on his heels.

"I'll hold you to that promise, Squirt; but right now," I said softly, leaning forward and kissing his lips lightly. "Let's take a quick shower and change clothes; we are supposed to be there at seven-thirty."


Dalton was still excited when we arrived at Jake's.  He had showered and even asked me if he should shave before he dressed.  I gave his smooth ruddy face a close inspection, kidding him about letting the peach fuzz grow a little while longer before he started thinking about shaving.   The attempt to calm him down didn't help; he was as keyed up as a kid before Christmas.  He changed shirts twice while I was dressing, and the effects of his being so excited were so infectious, that I  could feel them myself.

Tracey and Jake were perfect host and hostess, and we had a delightful dinner that Tracey had prepared.  While Dalton helped her clear the table, Jake told me that he had spoken with the Andersons and that they had set a price of thirty-five thousand on the property. 

"Is that a good price, Jake?" I asked, confident that he would be honest with me even though we had only known each other a short time.  "You know more about property values in Lake Gaston than I do."

"You can check the real estate records if you want, Carl; but it is about a third of what the property is actually worth, and I think it would be foolish not to buy it.  The property's value will increase as Lake Gaston grows, and the difference between what they are asking and its actual worth is a hell of an equity to pass up,"  he said glancing toward the kitchen and asking Tracey to bring beers for us.

"I don't need to check records, Jake, your word is good enough for me," I said, looking up as Tracey handed us the beers he had asked for.  "How much of a down payment would be needed?"

"Thirty-five hundred for a conventional loan; but, if we can get it through the VA, which I believe we can do since you are still on active duty, you won't need anything down," he said, taking a  swig from his bottle.

"Wouldn't it lower the monthly payments if I were to put something down?"

"Of course it would, Carl; but, if it's a stretch, why not go without one?" He said, as Dalton and Tracey came into the room.

Dalton and Tracey had finished cleaning up in the kitchen while we were talking.  When they sat down, I glanced at them; and, I could see they both seemed to be excited from the way they were talking in whispers.  I felt a little nervous but a voice inside of me said "go ahead."

Inhaling deeply, I glanced at Dalton and said, "Okay, Jake, let's do it."

"Yes, yes," Dalt and Tracey said excitedly, jumping up and hugging each other as they danced around the floor.

I looked at Jake, and he was as surprised as I was over their excitement.  Laughing, he said, "Kids, what would we do without them?"

"That's a time honored question, Jake that I don't think anyone has ever answered.  Dalton is as close as I have to one - right now," I said quickly amending the statement but with a feeling that Jake wasn't fooled.

"I don't think you could ever ask for a better one than Dalton, Carl,"  he said.

"I know, Jake," I said softly, not really concerned with what he might think. 

"Okay, you two," he called out,  "Settle down; or you're going to cause the ceiling lights to fall in the office with all that jumping around.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Tracey said, bubbly with excitement.  "Dalton was telling me that Carl was thinking about buying the cottage, and that's exciting. Isn't it Dalt?"

I glanced at him quickly before he spoke; and, lowering his eyes, he sheepishly said, "I'm sorry Carl; I couldn't help it.  I know I promised I wouldn't say anything, but I didn't think telling Tracey would hurt; she's not going to say anything."

"Tracey...," Jake said, looking at her sternly.

"It wasn't Dalton's fault, Daddy; I wheedled it out of him. I overheard you talking with the Andersons, and I put two and two together; it had to be Carl buying the cottage that you were talking with them about."  she said, turning to me. "Don't be mad at Dalton, Carl, please. I won't breathe a word about it, even to Carla."

'I wish you wouldn't, Tracey, at least not until it's all settled."

"She won't, Carl," Jake said, giving his daughter a warning glance. 

"And you won't either, will you Dalton?" I said.

He didn't answer; but, from the way he was shuffling his feet with his head was hanging down, I knew he was feeling ashamed at having broken his promise.


Jake said that he would have the intent to purchase contracts drawn up and ready for signature by Wednesday and that I could fill out the credit information forms and the VA loan applications then.  I told him to include the down payment we had discussed.

"That about covers it, Carl," he said as we got up to leave. 

"Just one more thing, Jake," I said turning to Tracey.

"Did your Dad tell you why I was in his office this afternoon, Tracey?"

"Yes, he did, Carl; but you don't have to apologise for Lyle," she said, glancing at Dalton and me.  "He puts on a big front, but we've known each other most of our lives, and I know he doesn't mean to say those things. He and Tip have it pretty hard at home, and sometimes he is mad at the world."

"That's pretty big of you Tracey; you know him better than we do, but it doesn't excuse rudeness."

"They're both pretty good boys, Carl; and I'm not making excuses for them; but they have had it pretty rough growing up,"  Jake interjected as he put his arm around Tracey's shoulder, hugging her to him.  "You'll get to like them after you've been around them  a little longer."

"Lyle has said something about joining the army, and that should help him out," I said as we moved toward the door.

"And, if I know Tip, he will be right behind him," Tracey said as she opened the door.

"It wouldn't hurt either one of them, Tracey.   Thanks for having us over, and I'll see you on Wednesday, Jake."

"Thanks, Tracey, Mr. Ballard," Dalton said.

"The next time, you wash and I'll dry, Dalton," Tracey chirped cheerfully.

"That's a deal,"  Dalton said, glancing over his shoulder, a little more cheerful.


We were almost half way to the cottage before Dalton broke his self-imposed silence, and asked softly, "Are you still mad at me Carlie?"

"A little, Dalt," I answered, looking over at him.  "I just don't want everyone knowing what we are doing.  That's one reason I didn't say anything when Lyle and Tip were around.  I don't believe they would blab about it, but it's better we don't mention it for now," I said as he pulled into the driveway and parked behind the cottage.

When he unlocked the door, Dalton turned putting his arms around my neck; and, looking into my eyes, he said, "I love you, Carlie,"

"I know you do, Squirt," I whispered, pulling him close and kissing him deeply and warmly, his body molding to mine.