Date: Sat, 22 Nov 2003 16:37:56 +0000
From: Guy Jameson <guyjameson@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Sons of JJ Jameson Chapter 22

I wasn't planning to write this chapter but Guy showed me an
e-mail from one of the readers of our story that asked for
more information about Rob and me.  I guess the impression
is that we've been left out.  Actually I think I might have
preferred to be left out.  But Guy's been after us to do
this ever since he and my Dad began this project.  So here
goes.

I apologize for the length of time since the last
posting.  Rob's story will be coming soon too. GJ)

Do we need to remind you that this work is copyrighted and
belongs to us under the terms of nifty.org.  To reproduce
the story someplace else except for your own use requires
our permission.
I'm writing this just so you guys know Rob and I are not
really the forgotten boys.

                   THE SONS OF JJ JAMESON
           CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: NOT A FORGOTTEN BOY

                            2003

If I were to write a personal ad, it would appear something
like this:
     My name is Jason Jameson.  I am twenty-one years old
and am the second of five sons.  All of my brothers are gay;
my father is gay; my grandfather is gay and is my father's
lover.  Physically I am just shy of six feet tall, weigh one-
hundred eighty pounds, have light to dark brown hair, hairy
bodied and madly in love.  In the case it really matters I
have an uncircumcised cock that runs a little over six and a
half inches hard and is thick enough to satisfy most of the
rather few sexual partners I've had.  I prefer the bottom
position but will switch for the right guy.
     I enjoy sports, especially soccer, swimming (non-
competitive) and bicycling (also non-competitive).  I'd like
soccer if I could play better than I do or if it is being
played mostly for the fun of it with a few good friends.
You may draw the conclusion that I don't have an aggressive
personality.  My other interests are gardening or yard work
and I have begun my own landscaping business with my
partner, Cherokee.  Cherokee is the man I love and have
loved for over three years.  We've lived together for just
almost that long.  We are quite happy together.

     My earliest memories are of my Dad reading to my
brothers and me.  That began several years before mom cut
out.  He'd come down to the Dormitory, get on one of our
beds and we'd all crowd around him.  Naturally we all wanted
to be closest to him-causing many arguments between us.
Finally, in order to be fair, Dad made us take turns lying
next to him, one arm wrapped around the lucky boy, the other
holding the book he was reading.  We became attached to reading
and books at a very young age.
     I'm not sure why the memory of him reading is so
strong except possibly because I associate that so closely
to Dad's scent.  Dad usually took his shower in the morning,
before heading out to the school where he taught and my
brothers and I attended.  He had, and still does have, an
aversion to deodorant and perfumes on men.  So by the time
we were heading for bed, he had built up a nice manly odor
that was all his own.
     When it was my turn to be closest to him, I always
snuggled against him, placing my face, therefore my nose,
right next to his armpit.  I loved his scent.  I loved him
and I loved the stories he read.
     Dad continued to read to us after mom left but then
he'd often not be wearing any clothes or the most he'd have
on would be a pair of shorts.  And not those long legged,
baggy shorts that are so popular today.  Dad's shorts were
short-about the length of old style basketball shorts or
soccer shorts.  His legs were well muscled and covered with
black or dark brown hair; in fact so was his chest and
abdomen.  Dad has always kept himself looking good!
     I loved lying in his arm, sniffing his scent, looking
at his muscular legs and chest, watching him breath and
listening to him read to us.  The books Dad chose to read
were most often adventure books-Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry
Finn, and Black Stallion.  He even got into reading us all
the Tarzan books.  There were no pictures in these books so
we had to use our imaginations as he read.  Somehow Tarzan
always came out looking like Dad.

     My first sexual experience, other than with my own fist
was with my older brother, Joe.  I guess Joe was also the
first boy/man I ever loved, other than Dad and Guy, of
course.  But it wasn't the kind of love that lifetime
relationships are built on.  It was/is the kind of love that
exists between brothers who deeply care for each other and
want to protect each other from all the things in life that
can cause hurt.
     My first times with Joe occurred about the time he
entered puberty.  We shared a bedroom with our other
brothers in what was called the Dormitory.  Guy and JJ began
building the Dormitory when it became obvious that the
family was growing.  According to what I've been told Dad
and Mom lived with Guy (my grandfather) and my Mom's mom
until grandmother died.  Guy then left to live in his house
in Jefferson TX and made that his center of operations until
the youngest brother, David, was born and Mom disappeared.
     I was seven years old at that time.  So I knew Mom
before she left.  But Guy moved back to our home and made
the best substitute mom any one could ever find.  But I
guess you've already read about most of that.  Considering
the way things have turned out, I think we are a lot better
off with Guy than with any mother.
     Sorry, I digress.
     The Dormitory was one big room built in the basement of
our 1920s house.  It had it's own bathroom, each of us had a
bed, which could be converted into bunk beds during the
winter, a desk, and an armoire in which to hang our clothes.
Privacy was at a premium.  So as Joe began to enter puberty,
the changes in his body were pretty obvious to all of us.
Discussions of what was happening to Joe became common
topics of conversation, not only between us boys but also
with our adults.
     These conversations were very open and frank and as
often as not occurred at the breakfast or dinner table.  Guy
insisted we always eat at the table, never in front of the
TV on trays, which I guess was pretty common for people in
the 1970s.  In fact TV was something we watched only on rare
occasions.
     Dad and Guy did not want us to be ashamed of what we
did or were, nor did they want us to be embarrassed about
anything concerning our physical development.  I suppose
that's the main reason why we didn't have to be too careful
about being naked at times 'normal' families would have
insisted on clothes.  We discussed it all-body changes, body
fluids, hard ons, masturbation and how babies are born.  We
never discussed sex between boys-not until it was obvious
that Joe and I had discovered that secret pleasure.
     Sorry, I digress again.  That's one reason I was not
too sure I wanted to write this piece of our story-I have
trouble NOT digressing.  My history teachers at school loved
that feature about me.
     I was talking about my first time with Joe.  As he
began to enter puberty, his attraction to his penis became
more intense.  We'd all played with that little member of
our bodies and had found some pleasure in it.  We weren't,
any of us, too sure why fondling our little dicks was fun
but it was and so we did it.  None of us were good about
just saying "No" about anything fun.
     So Joe began to play with himself more intently.  The
first time he actually shot a load of cum, he showed it off
to all of us.  You know it was a situation of, "Look what I
can do.  You guys can't do that".  Of course that made us
all want to play with our dicks all the harder so we could
do the same thing.  We all adored Joe and wanted to do
anything he did.
     One night after Joe had jacked himself to an orgasm,
something that was now an every night and every morning
occurrence; I climbed into bed with him.  Joe had a double bed
that had been in Dad's room until he bought a new queen-size
mattress.  Because we adored Joe the way we did and because
he saw himself as our protector, it was quite acceptable for
any of us to get in bed with him.  He was damned good at
scaring away the monsters in our dreams or the ones that
came out from under our beds.
     "Joe, can I feel that stuff that comes out of your
dick?"
     "Sure Jason, but why do you want to?"
     "I've seen what you do with it sometimes.  You know how
you rub it into your stomach and the hair that's growing
around your cock.  I'd just like to know what it feels
like."
     "Would you like to help me make some?"
     "Sure, but you've already jacked off tonight!"
     "Yeah but I think I can do it again."
     Joe began to stroke his dick.  I took hold of his nuts
and ran my hands over his tight body, feeling the muscles
under his skin.
     "Yeah, Jase.  Keep that up.  It feels good and I think
it'll help me shoot this stuff."
     Joe's cock began to get hard.  There was a small amount
of clear fluid that began to form in the rose of his uncut
dick.  I picked up some of the stuff onto a finger and
rolled it around between it and my thumb.  It was really
smooth.
     "That's called pre-cum, Jase.  Remember Dad says that
helps the man put his dick inside his wife so she can have a
baby."
     "Yeah, Joe I was listening and remember very well.  He
also said it makes it easier and more fun to masturbate."
     I collected more of his pre-cum and played with it with
my finger.  While Joe was busy jacking, though I also put it
to my nose to smell it.  The scent wasn't very strong but
there was a perfume about it that intrigued me.  I collected
some more and tasted it.  That was OK too.  Joe didn't say
anything about that so I guess he didn't notice or didn't
think it strange that I was smelling and tasting his pre-
cum.
     "Joe, can I do that for you?"
     "What do you mean, Jase, you want to play with my
dick?"
     "No I mean I want to jack you off.  I want to make you
shoot your stuff."
     "I don't know Jase . . ." he said as he continued to
stroke.  "Sure if you want to."
     So I took Joe's dick, which by this time-he was just a
few months away from his twelfth birthday-was about four
inches long, certainly bigger than my little pecker, into my
hand and began to do some serious jacking.  Joe shot in just
a few minutes.  I had all the cum to play with I wanted.  In
fact I tried to get him to shoot more by continuing to
stroke him until he screamed, "Jase, that's enough!  When I
cum, it gets really sensitive and almost hurts.  Stop!"
     I stopped.
     "Now, Jase you can rub it into my belly-rub it onto
yours if you want to.  Maybe it'll help start the hair to
grow."
     I took my handful of Joe's cum back to my bed.  I knew
exactly what I wanted to do with it.  I did rub some on
me-just in case it would help get the hair to start to grow,
but I sucked most of it off my fingers.  I loved the taste
of it.  It tasted just like my brother smelled-strong,
spicy.  I loved Joe and I loved his cum.
     When Dad and Guy noticed that I too was beginning to
enter puberty, they converted the attic into what we called
the Upper Room.  It was as big as the Dormitory and had
another bathroom.  So that gave Joe and me and our younger
brothers, still downstairs, a lot more room.  It also
provided us more privacy.
     Joe and I hardly ever slept in separate beds after
moving to the Upper Room.  The first night in our new room I
slept with Joe and for the first time he saw me eat his cum.
It wasn't long before we began to find that there were other
ways two boys could find pleasure with each other.
     A couple of nights after our big move, Joe and I were
in bed.  He started to jack off.
     "Joe may I do that for you?"
     "Sure, you may.  In fact that would be better than
doing it myself."
     I scooted into the curve of his left arm and began
stroking his beautiful twelve-year-old cock.  Joe took my
eleven-year-old piece and began stroking it.  Of course, we
both knew that I'd not cum but it felt good to have him play
with me.  It inspired me to explore further.
     "Jase, what the hell are you doing?"
     "Just breathing."
     "The fuck you are.  You're smelling my arm pit!"
     "Yeup, I guess I am and big brother you smell awfully
good.  Almost as good as Dad always smells," I said with a
laugh.
     "That's sick.  You go around smelling Guy's armpits
too?"
     "Yeup, I guess I do.  I like the your smell.  It's
ripe, sweet.  In fact I'd like to taste it too."
     "Maaaaaaaaaan, You are a perv!"
     "Yeup."
     I began licking into his armpit.  Even though his voice
said, "NO, NO."  He let me do it and he began to moan, "YES,
YES," as I wet down the small patch of hair in his pit.
     "You want me to stop, Joe?"  I asked softly.
     "No. Don't stop.  I like that."
     "I guess that makes you a perv too, then, doesn't it?"
     Our voices were quiet, husky, full of lust.
     "Yeah, Jase.  I like that."
     I shifted my body so I could free my right arm, which
had been supporting me.  I straddled his body, sitting on
his upper thighs.  My left hand was under me so I could
continue to stroke his cock and lick his pit as I began
playing with a nipple.
     "Ohhh, Jason.  Yeah.  That feels so good."
     Joe began to hump his cock into the sheath formed by my
fist.  He humped harder, encouraging me to pinch his nipple
with more force.  I could sense he was nearing an eruption
of cum and bent down to take his cock in my mouth.  It was
my first time to taste his cock with all its rich flavors of
sweat from the day, a bit of cheese and my favorite flavor
of the week-his pre-cum.
     "Ohhh, God, Jason.  Suck my cock.  Take it little
brother.  Suck your big brother's cock down into your
throat."
     Joe pushed his cock deeper into my mouth and let go of
his cum.  The first couple of spurts hit the back of my
throat, the rest landed on my tongue.
     "Jasonnnnn!  That's the best cum of my life.  Ohhh,
man, that feels good."
     I held Joe's load in my mouth savoring its flavor and
the idea that I'd taken it straight from the source.  It was
the best feeling of my life.
     I sucked his cock, cleaning the head and shaft as I
swallowed his cum.  It had a heavenly flavor and I'd made my
big brother feel so good.  I felt good.
     "Jase, let it go, man. You're starting to hurt me.
I've told you before my cock is so sensitive after I shoot
my stuff.  Please, Jason! Let it go."
     As much as I hated to do it, I let Joe's softening cock
slip out of my mouth.  I lay back into the crook of his arm,
kissing his nipple, his neck and finally full on his lips.
He stuck his tongue inside my mouth and found just the
slightest amount of his residue inside.
     We lay there for a few minutes, glorying in what had
just happened.  I felt up his beautiful chest, licking his
armpit, gently pulling his pit hair with my teeth.  I was
still hard, not having had my usual dry orgasm.  Joe seemed
to be content.  Humping my cock against his side caused his
pole to grow.  I began just playing with it again.
     "Does it still hurt, Joe?"
     "No it's fine now, Jase.  I think you're causing it to
get hard again."
     "Yeah, I know.  Does it feel good?"
     "Of course, you twerp.  I like feeling it get hard and
I like you playing with it, now."
     I continued to play with the hardening monster.
     "Joe?"
     "Yeah?"
     "Do you think you can cum again?"
     "Yeah, its beginning to feel like it."
     His cock was becoming rock hard.  I kissed my big
brother, pulling myself up and crawling onto his stomach.
His hard cock was pressed against my ass.  I kissed him
again, sticking my tongue deep into his mouth.
     He broke the kiss, "Jason I can still taste some of my
cream on your tongue."
     "Taste good?"
     "Yeup, it sure does.  I was so surprised when you
started sucking my dick.  Have you ever sucked any one
else?"
     "Of course not!  You're my brother.  I wanted you to be
the first."
     I reached behind my back and took hold of his cock.
     "I have another surprise for you big brother."
     I raised my hips and pushed his cock into the pucker of
my ass.
     "Joe, you have to fuck me," I said as I began to let my
butt push down onto his steel like pole.
     "Jase! No you can't do that.  It'll hurt you."
     "It's OK, Joe.  I think I can do this and I want it so
bad."
     I had been trying to stretch my ass hole over the last
week or so by jamming my fingers up it so I thought I could
take Joe's cock-even with just his natural lube.  I began to
lower myself onto his cock.  When I felt my boy cunt touch
the head of his dick, I took a deep breath and spread my
cheeks as much as possible with my hands.
     "Joe hold your cock up straight."
     It wouldn't go in.
     "Joe rub your lube against my ass."
     It still wouldn't slip into my hole.  I tried to open
up by pressing down, but I obviously needed some help
opening up enough to get his cock inside of me.  Joe pushed
me off.
     "Joe, please," I whined.  "I want you to fuck me."
     "Little brother, I want to fuck you too.  But I'm too
big.  It won't work without some more lube."
     Joe rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom.  I
could here him rummaging around in there until, "This ought
to work."
     He returned with some hand cream.
     "Roll onto your stomach, Jase."
     I rolled over.
     "Are you sure you want this little bro.  I've heard
that even with girls, their first time can be pretty painful
and their cunt is made to fuck-not like a boy's ass."
     "Joe, an ass is made to fuck too.  Why else did God put
that thing down there that makes you shoot."
     "You mean your prostate?"
     "Yeah.  Remember Dad mentioning it once when you had
your physical and told you the doctor might want to check
it."
     Joe laughed.  "That doesn't mean your ass is made like
a pussy."
     "I know, but it does mean that somehow a man's cock can
go inside it.  And I want you in me."
     "You're sure."
     "Yeup, I'm sure.  As sure as anything."
     "OK then we're going to do this right."
     Joe spread my legs and laid down between them, his
mouth pressed against my tightly closed cheeks.  He pulled
them apart with his hands and began licking his way down my
ass slit toward my hole.
     "Ohhh, Joe.  That feels so good.  Joe do that.  It
feels great."
     After an eternity of licking around my ass cheeks, he
finally reached my hole and began slobbering all over it,
spreading his spit onto my pucker.  He inhaled deeply.
     "You like that smell, Joe?"
     "Yeah, Jase.  Smells good enough to eat."
     Joe went after my ass hole like he was starving and
licking an ice cream cone.  Pushing his tongue into the hole
as deeply as he could.  I could feel myself relaxing as he
continued to lick and thrust at my opening bud with his
tongue.  He pushed against it with one finger.  It slid in
fairly easily.
     When he began to insert the second finger, I moaned,
softly, then more loudly.  Joe pulled the finger from me.
     "Joe put it back in.  I want it, Joe.  Please don't
stop."
     "No worry, bro.  I'm not stopping.  I'm going to fuck
you like there's no tomorrow."
     He picked up the cream he'd gotten from the bathroom
and squirted a good glob of it onto my ass.  It was cold and
caused my relaxing hole to tighten again.  Joe laughed.
     "It's winking at me.  Man you do want this don't you?
I never thought I'd have a boy's ass wink at me."
     Using the cream, Joe inserted his two fingers again and
began working around the rim of my hole.  When the two were
fully in side of me, he withdrew just long enough to push in
the third digit.  He worked inside my ass, stretching,
massaging, stroking in and out.
     "Joe, stop playing around.  Give me your COCK!"
     "Just a little more, baby.  You're going to get it.
You know you need to be patient."
     FINALLY! Joe pulled his fingers out of my ass and began
to press his cock against my cunt.  I gasped and held my
breath as he pushed his head past the sphincter.
     "Ohhh, Joe.  Yeah.  That's it let me have my big
brother's cock.  Give it to me, bro."
     He shoved the rest into me in one stroke, filling my
body with his love tool, his baby maker, that piece of him
I'd wanted for longer than I could remember.  He fucked me,
tentatively at first, then with long in and out strokes.
Pulling my insides out the hole and then back in again.
With each inward thrust, he pushed me into the mattress of
the bed as if I were drilling a cunt for myself.  As he
pulled away I rose with him.  Somehow the rhythm wasn't
working.  I tried to meet him on the downward strokes by
raising my butt into him.  Then I'd pull away from him as he
withdrew his sword.  That felt better.  I was still getting
the sensations of rubbing my cock against the soft sheets
and feeling his big cock inside of me.  All of my senses
came alive.
     I could hear his breathing increase in intensity, the
slap of his sweat soaked body against my butt cheeks.  I was
seeing stars with each of his thrusts.  I smelt his body,
the lust rut that rose from both of us.  I thought I could
taste his cock in the back of my throat each time he entered
me.  The feel of his weight on top of me made me feel
comfort and love as my big brother shoved his big cock into
me time after time.
     "I'M COMING, BABY.  I'M GOING TO FILL YOUR BEAUTIFUL
LITTLE ASS WITH MY JUICE.  BABY I'M CUMMMMMMING!"
     "Joe, I'm right with you brother," I said more softly,
my voice muffled by the pillow under my head.  "I'm
cummnnnnning too."
     Joe fell on top of me, trying to regain his breath.
     "Baby, I've wanted to do that for so long.  You're ass
is full of me.  You're mine, Little Brother."
     "OH, Joe.  I want to be yours."
     I turned my head to the side as he kissed me up the
spine and finally took control of my mouth and kissed me
deeply.
     Eventually we untangled our selves and lay side by
side.  The sheet was soaked with our sweat.  Our bodies
glowed in the soft light of the rising moon.  Our bodies
touched as I lay in his arm, head on his shoulder, one hand
and arm lying on his hard muscled torso.
     "I think I saw heaven."

     Getting fucked by my big brother was the greatest
pleasure I had ever experienced.  The feel of his cock
inside of me was not describable.  It was just the greatest!
From that night on, I sucked my brother and got fucked by
him at least once a day.  Sometimes we'd repeat it the next
morning.  The morning wake up routine included, at the very
least, sucking Joe to explosion.
     One night about six months after we moved to the Upper
Room, Joe was fucking me like a madman.  It wasn't because
he'd not had a fuck just that morning.  He was just that
horny-like any thirteen-year-old.  I was on my back, my legs
wrapped around his waist.  I liked this position best of the
other ways we'd done it.  I could see the passion in his
face, the lust lighting his eyes like a hungry wolf on his
nightly prowl.
     I was playing with my cock, which had finally begun to
grow out of the little boy dick I'd been used to.  In fact
it was becoming rather large, about four and a half inches,
but fairly thick.  At least it wasn't a pencil stub anymore.
A bit of hair had begun to show up around my cock as well.
There was a small amount of precum dripping out of my cock.
Jacking my cock as he fucked me had always been enjoyable
even though I had yet to shoot a load of cum.  I'd at least
have the feeling of orgasms.  But as Joe fucked me, it felt
more intense, something was different.  I was hoping that
soon I would be able to release a stream in the not too
distant future.
     My orgasm was beginning to build, Joe's cock hardened,
swelled and filled my ass with his cream.  But he kept
going, kept fucking me.  I pumped my dick harder and then it
happened.  I shot my first load across my stomach.  It was
not a lot of cream, certainly not the amount I knew I had up
my butt, but it was enough.  Enough for Joe to scream his
congratulations in my ear when he saw it.
     "Little brother, you shot a load!" he declared as if he
thought I wasn't aware of it.
     Without pulling his cock out of my ass, he doubled over
and licked some of my cream from my stomach.  He took some
on a finger and began feeding me my own fluid.  It wasn't as
thick or as creamy as Joe's but I felt I had become a man.
What a feeling!  To be fed your own cum by your brother
while his dick is softening in your ass!  Bliss!  Total
bliss!
      Joe was so proud of me.  I was proud of myself.  He
laid down beside me, playing in my pool with a finger,
taking some to lick and then feeding me the rest.
     "Jase?"
     "Yeah, Joe?"
     "You're growing up, little brother.  You've added
inches to your cock, growing some hair and now you've
provided us both a bit of after fuck refreshment.  This is
so cool.  I think you're almost ready to fuck me."
     "Joe, I don't want to fuck you.  I enjoy having you
inside me too much."
     "Well, don't worry about that!  You'll always have my
cock up your butt-any time you're willing to take it."
     The thought of fucking Joe had never entered my mind.
I was his fuck.  That had always been enough.  But as we lay
there, the idea of sticking my cock up his beautiful butt
began to have a certain appeal.  Yeah, I thought.  That
might be really nice.
     "Little brother, I want you to fuck me and soon.  I
have to know what it feels like to have something besides my
fingers up my ass.  I want to feel you inside of me.  I
think you're just about big enough that I'll be able to know
you've stuck something inside of me."
     Joe laughed at his little joke about the fact I hadn't
grown to be as big as he was-in spite of the fact I was
closing in on him quickly.
     With that, my big brother turned over on his side and
went immediately to sleep.  I was suddenly so pissed.  But I
knew I couldn't do anything about that right then. But I
also knew it wouldn't be long and I'd find out what it was
like to fuck him.

     Life usually changes slowly.  But it seemed that once
Joe had said he wanted me to fuck him that the changes in my
body picked up speed.  You've already been told that nudity
in our household was accepted, if not encouraged.  Even Guy
commented one morning after breakfast how rapidly I was
developing.  Naturally I blushed at what he said.  He only
gave me a sly wink and said that whatever happens is meant
to be; I should never be embarrassed about anything that
occurred naturally.
     Within about a month and a half I added another inch to
the length of my dick and had grown almost as much pubic
hair as Joe had.  During our morning routine, I was able to
produce at least as much cum as Joe-who was of course the
measure of all things for me.
     One morning I was sucking Joe's dick.  He was getting
close to cumming.  I could tell because of the moans he was
making and the strength of his thrusts into my willing
mouth.
     "Hold up, Little Bro," he panted.  "I don't want to cum
yet."
     I stopped sucking but left my mouth wrapped tightly
around Joe's pole.
     "I want you to fuck me, Jase."
     I could hardly believe my ears.  I was going to get
Joe's cherry?  Yeah, that sounded good.
     "Joe, I'm not sure . . ."
     "Don't worry, Jase.  Just do what I do to you.  I am so
ready to discover what a hot dick up my ass feels like."
     Well I didn't have to be asked again.  I knew exactly
what to do.  I pulled off Joe's cock and began licking his
balls.  He always liked that.  While I continued to suck his
orbs, I stroked his hard shaft, slowly.  I didn't want him
cumming too soon.
     Joe wrapped his legs over my shoulders, letting his
feet rest on my back.
     "Eat me, Jase.  Eat my hole.  Let your tongue go where
no one has ever gone before.  Eat my man pussy, you little
fuck."
     The saliva I produced licking on his nuts was running
into his ass crack.  My tongue followed it, licking his ass
trench dry.  When I reached his anal opening, I could hardly
stand it.  There was a perfume coming from his crotch that
was so exciting, so enticing, so much Joe.  I loved it!  My
tongue found his bud.  I licked into it, spreading my spit
around the opening, knowing how good it felt to me when Joe
did the same thing.  I made a spear point out of my tongue,
like a tiny dick, and stuck it as deeply into his ass as it
would go.  God! He was so tight.  Knowing that entry with my
cock would be more difficult than with a finger, I pushed
one, then two fingers into his ass.
     Joe grunted-a little pain, a lot of pleasure was
expressed in that grunt.  His voice changed to a moan as I
massaged the inside of his ass with my fingers, keeping them
wet with my tongue and mouth eating at the entrance to his
body.  I managed to get three fingers inside of him.
     "OH, GOD! JASE!  STOP TEASING ME!  FUCK ME YOU LITTLE
QUEER.  FUCK ME!  GIVE ME YOUR LITTLE DICK!  FUCK MEEEEE!"
     I removed my fingers and mouth from between Joe's legs,
raised onto my knees, securing his knees on my shoulders.
He spread his cheeks as wide as he could.
     "Joe, this might be easier if you were on your stomach
or if you sat on me and lowered yourself onto my cock."
     "I don't want it easier.  I want you to be completely
in control.  Fuck me this way so I can watch.  I want to see
your face as you enter me, you little shit."
     I pulled my foreskin away from the bright red head of
my cock.  Spit on it and lined up with his ass.  Pushing it
into his rosebud, forcing it's way into his body.  I almost
shot right then.
     I stopped trying to force my way in, took a deep
breath, closed my eyes.
     "Get some lube if you need it, bro.  But DO IT NOW!"
     Joe's cock was flowing a steady stream of fluid.  I
took some of it in my hand and smeared it liberally over his
hole and the point of my spear.  His rose opened, sucking me
into that tight hot tunnel.  I was inside my big brother,
the brother who had made love to me every morning and evening
for the last half year.
     "You're in, Bro.  God I feel so full of your little
cock.  It feels-it feels-it feels . . ."
     The sucking action of his tunnel pulled me completely
inside of him.  Joe was groaning something unintelligible
and tossing his head from side to side.  His hands grabbed
my ass cheeks and pulled me deeper into him.  I began to
pull out.  He pulled me back in.
     "Harder, Jase.  Fuck me harder.  Really slam that
piston into my hole.  Fuck me as hard as you can!"
     I pounded into his ass, slapping my nuts against his
butt cheeks.  In-Out.  Joe jacked his cock with one hand and
pulled on my tits with the other.
     "FUCK ME, SHIT.  FUCK ME HARDER.  I WANT TO FEEL YOU
INSIDE OF ME.  COME ON YOU FAGGOT, FUCK ME HARDER.  MAKE ME
FEEL YOU SLAP AGAINST ME!  FUCK ME."
     There may have been some other things he said, he kept
shouting at me.  Cheering me on to greater effort as I
fucked him.  His shouts and my own groans must have been
heard all over the house, but we were both way too far gone
to even care.
     "JOE, I'M CUMMING!"
     "ME TOO.  GOD I'M GOING TO SHOOT."
     We let go our loads at the same time.  I'd never seen
Joe shoot like he did that morning.  His cum splattered over
his head, hit him on the face, hit me on the chest and all
over his stomach, chest, groin.  I could feel my load
pumping into him, leaking out of his hole as I withdrew to
pound into him again.
     I fell breathless against him.  We lay there without
saying a word, letting our breath and the beat of our hearts
return to something like normal.
     "God, Jase.  I've never felt anything like that before.
It was better than fucking you.  How do you feel about me
being your fuck boy from now on?"
     "Joe, that was the second greatest thing I've ever
experienced.  But you're not getting away without fucking
me.  That's the greatest thing on earth."
     "In that case we may need another fucker to take care
of both of us."
     We both laughed as I fell off him and lay on the bed.
     "Big brother, no one could ever fuck me the way you do.
And now that you know what it feels like to catch, I bet
you'll be an even better batter."
     We had dozed off for just a few minutes when Guy's knock on
the door brought us back to reality.
     "Get up you sleepy heads.  You have school today."
     "Shit, wouldn't you know it?  Come on, bro.  Time to
face the real world."

     For us the real world was school, soccer, family and
church, not necessarily in that order.  Actually family came
first.  It was difficult to keep secrets in this house.  Or
maybe it was a feeling of conscience.  The way Guy and Dad
had begun looking at us recently made me think that maybe
they knew a lot more about what was going on in the Upper
Room than we might want them to.  But never a word out of
either of them-not until Ron joined us.
     Ron has already described his first night in the Upper
Room so I won't bore you with those details.  You also know
about Guy's demonstration of how to use a rubber on a
cucumber.  The first thing that entered my mind during that
event was that I didn't want a cucumber up my butt so what
was the point of showing us how to apply the condom.  I had
to smile at that idea, but I certainly didn't allow my
reaction to show.  Guy was so serious about what he was
doing.
     Actually Joe and I had already heard about the use of
condoms, mainly as a means to protect against unwanted
pregnancy.  Most of the guys in my class had no clue about
what was being discussed.  We were only ten or eleven years
old and only a couple of the boys had even entered puberty.
But our school was/is a "progressive" school and believed in being
proactive in dealing with life's little problems.  I'm sure
I was the only boy in that group that had experienced any
form of sex-and that of course was just with my older
brother.
     Well anyway I thought what Guy showed us was pretty
funny.  Then when Dad said that as long as we kept it in the
family we probably didn't have to worry, I thought I'd die
of embarrassment.  It was as if he were actually giving us
permission to fuck around with each other.  Joe said it made
him wonder how much our male parents did with each other.
Yeeeuch, Guy and Dad fucking?  Totally beyond imagination!

     My relationship with Brother Joe was certainly not
limited to our activities in the bedroom-nor for that matter
was the way my other brothers and I felt about each other.
We were good friends in every aspect of the word.  We
counseled each other, laughed and played together and most
importantly we believed that anyone of us would stand up for
the others.
     Joe and I often played on the same "classics" soccer
team, which was organized by age group but required tryouts
to play.  Though I was certainly not as good a player as he,
Joe knew how to cover for me when necessary.  Joe usually
played goalie (and was damned good at).  I played full back
or defense.  We knew each other's moves and he knew my
limitations.  And there were lots of times I'd miss the play
by the opposing team and the ball would get past me.  Never
did he get mad at me for missing the oncoming play.  If I
screwed up really badly, I'd get HELL for it at home but he
never embarrassed me with criticism in front of the team.
Then after he thoroughly laid me out, we'd get Ron or Rob to
play against us and we'd practice the moves I should have
made.  As a result, when Joe and I were in the backfield,
opposing teams knew they had to work at scoring on us.

     We all attended the same school, St. George Academy,
where Dad taught.  The school included kids from pre-school
through high school so we all knew the same guys and they
all knew us.  Even when Joe came out during his senior year,
no one said a word to any of us about it in a critical way.
They knew better than to criticize any of us in front of
another.  It made life easier for all of us.  Besides the
teachers closely monitored harassment and made sure that
teasing stopped at teasing.  It was extremely rare for there
to be playground fighting the way I've heard it happens at
other schools.
     Joe has already discussed his "coming out" with George
McGee and their prom.  So I won't go into that here, but
there is a part of the story that neither he nor anyone else
in my family knew-until they read this.
     After the prom or graduation party, whichever one
chooses to call it, several members of the junior class held
our own party.
     One of the girls asked a bunch of us over to her house
for an after prom celebration.  It was a non-dating affair
since all of us had to work at the prom as hosts and
hostesses and each had particular jobs to complete.  But she
promised there would be music for dancing and plenty of
refreshments, including beer.  I don't know to this day
where the beer came from; I know it wasn't grocery store
beer.
     There was one girl in our class that was rumored to
have the hots for me.  Her name was Jane and was fairly new
to our school.  Of course, no one knew anything about my
sexual exploits with my brothers, though I suppose there
were some who suspected me of being gay.  After all, my
older brother was gay and I never dated.  But then lots of
the boys in our class didn't date either.  So, I guess there
was some ground for suspecting me.
     As the party progressed, Jane asked me to dance several
times.  I wasn't much of a dancer but just to be polite, I
joined her in the basement rec room and we enjoyed the
dancing.  Jane had drunk a number of beers and was feeling
no pain by the middle of the evening-actually it was about
midnight.  She began to dance closer and closer to me and
wouldn't leave the floor during the slow dances, as I would
have preferred, but then I was probably fairly tipsy anyway.
It was fun to have her rub up against me and I had a normal
reaction to her attentions-OK I sprang wood, which she could
obviously feel through my trousers.
     Jane became more encouraged as we continued dancing and
began feeling me up.
     "Jason, would you like to find someplace more private?"
she whispered in my ear.
     "Yeah, I think that could be fun."
     I was horny and thought OK why not try it with a girl.
I've never dated, never been around girls.  The guys on the
soccer team have talked about how nice pussy feels.  Why not
give it a go?  That's what boys my age are supposed to do,
right?
     We slipped out of the party and found a bedroom on the
second floor of the house.  It suddenly dawned on me that I
hadn't the slightest idea what to do next.  Should I just
begin to undress myself?  Should I help her undress?  How
would I go about that?
     I needn't have worried.  As soon as we went into the
bedroom, Jane shut the door behind us and began to unbutton
her blouse.
     "Jason, would you like to help me do this?"
     "Sure, Jane.  I'm sorry, I'm not very experienced at
this-in fact I've never been with a girl before."
     "Yeah, I know that, Jason.  I've only been with one
other boy myself.  But it would be nice for you to help me
get undressed."
     I took over the job of unbuttoning her as she began
undoing my shirt.  I removed her top and gave it a cavalier
toss onto a chair near the bed.  She finished removing my
shirt and it joined hers.  I pulled her close to me in a
hug, rubbing my chest against the fabric of her bra.  I
began fumbling around her back, trying to remove it but had
no luck at all undoing the hooks.
     "Here, let me do that," she whispered softly in my ear.
"I've had a bit more practice than you have."
     She unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts for me to
explore.  I'd never touched anything so soft and yet so firm
in my life.  It was certainly different from Joe's hard
pecs-or Ron's either for that matter.  I liked the feel of
them.
     OK, I thought.  This shouldn't be too difficult.  I'll
just do to Jane what Joe and I do to each other.  I bent
down to lick her nipples and began to suck gently on one of
them.
     "Ohhh, Jason, that's right!" she exclaimed.  "I love
having my breasts licked.  That's good!"
     I pulled her body closer to mine and continued to suck,
remembering that maybe I should keep from nibbling too hard
with my teeth.  Jane seemed to be enjoying it and my cock
certainly was.  I could feel the wetness form in my jeans as
I began to leak precum.
     I thought, this is going to be easy.
     She was wearing a skirt-as was required of all the
girls who worked the prom.  I found the button on the side,
undid it.  Pulled down the zipper and let her skirt fall to
the floor.  I pulled her over to the bed, set her down on it
and removed her shoes and stockings.  I quickly removed my
shoes, socks and jeans and stretched out beside her. Jane fell
back onto the bed dressed only in her panties.
     So far, So good, I thought.
     Jane was lying on her back; I was on one side, cock
pressed against her leg.  We kissed; I played with her
breasts.  I sucked her breasts.  She moaned loudly.  We
kissed some more, pushing my tongue into her mouth.  She
certainly tasted sweeter than Joe did.  My cock got harder
and was leaking like a sieve.  I rubbed against her,
smearing my precum against her leg.
     "Don't do that, Jason.  You'll orgasm too quickly.  I'm
not ready."
     We kissed more fervently and I felt down her stomach
pushing my hand into her panties.  I found her moist crack
where I'd always found a dripping cock before.
     What the hell do I do with this? I thought.  I pushed
my finger into her pussy as if it were Joe's or Ron's ass.
     Jane moaned more loudly.  "Ohhh, Jas s s s s on."
     I pushed a second finger into her cunt, causing her to
raise her hips to meet my hand.  She wasn't as tight as I
expected-certainly not as tight as a boy's ass.
     As I played with her cunt, I continued to explore the
upper part of her body with my mouth and tongue.  I kissed
and licked my way down her neck, into her right armpit.  She
was wearing deodorant, a flavor I didn't recognize and
didn't like in the least.  I tried to lick away the taste
but she stopped me.
     "Jason, don't do that-it's nasty.  I don't want you to
lick me there."
     Whew, I thought, saved by the bell.
     I went back to her breasts, all the while trying to get
a third finger into her cunt.  The room was filled with the
scent of rutting bodies.  But it wasn't the smell I was used
to.  It was sweeter, less musky, less real, I thought.  She
was wearing perfume and deodorant and as I played with her
pussy, the scents were entirely different than a boy's ass
would give off.  I like the new scents, I thought.
     But now what?
     I continued to kiss down her abdomen.  It was hairless,
soft, pliable.  It felt good.
     I hooked my fingers into the elastic of her panties and
began to pull them down as I continued to explore her
body-passed her navel, licking into her pubic hair.
     I could smell her cunt now.  The scent was strong,
pungent, a mixture of odors-none of which were familiar.  I
spread her legs wider and moved into her body, nose and
tongue first.  If I were only her second boy, I figured
additional lube would be needed, even though I was certainly
pumping out precum like crazy.  I went into her cunt,
licking, tasting . . . "AUGH.  GOD WHAT A SMELL!"
     I came out of Jane's legs choking and gagging.  I was
coughing like crazy and then . . . My stomach released its
contents.  I spewed vomit everywhere-all over Jane's
stomach, all over the bed.  It was all over for me!
     Jane started screaming at me, crying, shouting, calling
me names!
     "Jane," I protested.  "I'm sorry!  Jane, please forgive
me!"
     "Get away from me you pervert!  Everyone said you're
queer.  Now I believe it.  And look at me!  No . . . No . .
Nothing like this has ever happened to me!  Just get away
from me!"
     I ran into the adjoining bathroom to get towels and wet
cloths so I could try to clean up the mess I'd made all over
her, but Jane kicked me in the nuts.  I let out a cry and
down I went like a soggy noodle.  I don't think I'd ever
been hit that hard in the hardest fought soccer match.
     Jane got off the bed and ran screaming into the
bathroom.  In a few seconds I heard the sound of the shower
as she tried to clean herself. After catching my breath, I
painfully pulled on my clothes and used the towels and wash
cloths to clean up the bed as well as I could.  I was sure
that the bedspread would definitely have to be run through
the washing machine.
     The water in the shower was shut off and I left the
room as quickly as my crippled state allowed.  Jane was
still crying but I didn't think there was anything more that
I could do and left the party without saying anything to
anyone.
     I was afraid Jane would say enough for both of us.  I
wasn't sure I could go back to school the following Monday.
     But I did.  It was easier to go to school, face the
music and ridicule than it would have been to explain to Guy
why I couldn't go back.  I got an ear full of information
before classes even started.
     My good friend, Dillon, told me Jane's side of the
story, which was pretty accurate, though slightly
embellished.  Every girl in school had heard what had
happened and they all told their boy friends and any other
male they thought would listen.  I was definitely labeled
"queer".
     Other than Dillon, none of the boys said a thing until
we went to Gym class.  As we were changing into shorts and
tee shirts, Christopher started in on me.
     Christopher was a transfer student, having attended St.
George's for only a year.  He was a good athlete and
generally well liked, except for the fact he could be a real
loudmouth.  He was also extremely good-looking and very well
built.
     "Hey, Jameson," he shouted at me.  "I hear you don't
like the smell of pussy.  What's the matter with you?  Are
you queer like your brother?  Hell half the boys in this school
have sniffed that bitch's crack and never complained about it.
She's been fucked and sucked enough cock to know just how to please
a REAL MAN."
     Dillon cut in, "Chris, you'd better learn to keep your
mouth shut.  You know the rules around here about dissin'
your classmates.  What Jason is, is his own business and not
your concern at all."
     "Stay out of this Dillon!" Chris retorted.  "Or are you
queer like your buddy.  Everyone knows you hang out with
that faggot more than any normal boy should."
     I whispered to Dillon, who was standing in front of the
locker next to mine, "Dill, don't get into this.  I think I
can handle this."
     Chris walked closer to us.  "What do you think you can
handle, fag?  Maybe you'd like to handle this!"
     Chris was dressed only in his boxers by this point and
had pulled his cock out of the fly.  I have to admit he had
an impressive cock, cut, about five inches long and a good
handful soft.  He stroked it a couple of times, causing it
to begin to lengthen.  He stroked it a couple of more times
as he moved across the locker room.
     "You'd like this, wouldn't you faggot?  Come on, BOY,
try to touch it.  I dare you!  Just like that faggot brother
of yours.  He was always watching me as I undressed.  He
wanted my dick up his ass so bad!  And you're just like him,
you want me don't you, faggot!"
     "Put it away, Chris!" Dillon told him, trying to defend
his friendship with me.
     "Yeah, Chris, you don't have anything there that would
interest me.  It's just a normal cock, hardly worth even
noticing . . . Or do you want me to touch it?  Is that it,
Chris?  Do you feel left out?  You hate the fact the school
faggot doesn't fall all over himself trying to get to your
dick, don't you?  Come on, if you think you're man enough!"
     I was losing my temper and was ready to fight this
homophobe, if not for myself then for what he'd said about
Joe.  I was standing already and moving into position to lay
into Chris even though he probably outweighed me by fifty
pounds of solid muscle.  Fighting wasn't the way I liked to
settle things but when angry, I thought I stood a pretty
good chance against him.
     Christopher took a couple more steps toward me, his
fist drawn back ready to hit me.  The crowd of boys moved
back forming a circle around us.  But the room was silent,
waiting, anticipating.  I'm quite sure several boys shared
Chris' attitude toward gay boys, after all this was
Oklahoma, not California.  However, Chris' compatriots would
never have said anything to my brothers or me.
     Dillon was right behind me, as were a couple of other
guys with whom I'd attended school my whole life.
     Chris came closer, his eyes ablaze with anger and
something I can only describe as disgust.  He really did
hate me for being gay and it was very evident in his stance.
     He swung at my face.  I dodged enough for him to miss
me but I could feel the breeze of his fist as he swung.  One
blow like that and I would have been in serious trouble.
Chris dove, trying to tackle me around the waist.  I twisted
to the side barely escaping him.  He was too good a fighter
to lose his balance, however.  He caught himself, turned and
swung again, catching me just below my left eye.  The
swelling began almost immediately.
     I backed away from him.  He charged me again.  I was
wrong.  I didn't stand a ghost of a chance against his anger
and hatred.  Fighting was neither in my nature nor in my
experience.  I had never even come to blows with any of my
brothers.
     Chris landed another blow to my face, splitting my lip
and making my nose bleed.  I had to end this quickly or
else.  He closed on me again.  Dillon started to move to my
defense, but I shouted for him to stop.  As Chris came
toward me, I took the only action I thought was left to me.
I kicked out and caught him square in the nuts.
     The look on his face was almost comical as he crumpled
to the floor.  He let out a scream of anguish and vomit
poured from his mouth.  He fell face down into his own spew.
I jumped onto his prone figure, ready to hit him again when
a hand grabbed me and pulled me off the fallen boy.
     "That's enough, Jameson.  You've made your point and
don't need to carry this any further."  It was Mr. Beason,
the wrestling coach.  "I'm sure that if beating sense into
Chris was the only way he could learn civilized behavior,
you've done that.  Right now we need to treat those cuts and
stop your bleeding . . . Dillon, take Jason into my office!"
     Dillon wrapped an arm around my shoulders and half
guided, half carried me out of the locker room to the
coaches' office.  Mr. Beason bent over Chris.
     "I think you'll live, Chris.  Try to sit up, legs
straight in front of you."
     Mr. Beason believed he had a cure all for sore nuts.
He helped Chris sit up, walked around behind him and slipped
his arms under Chris' armpits.  He lifted the boy straight
up, using his heels as a fulcrum and then let him down
slowly.  The coach repeated this action several times,
helping Chris catch his breath.
     "You feel any better, boy?" he asked.
     "Not really sir.  That faggot really scrambled my eggs.
I won't forget that."
     "I think you'd better, boy.  You provoked this fight
and I have no sympathy for you whatever.  My only concern
here is that you aren't permanently damaged and you won't
repeat what just happened."
     Coach leaned closer to Chris' ear and whispered, "You
know this school is all that stands between you and boarding
school or juvenile court.  Let it go before you're in over
your head."
     Mr. Beason helped Chris stand up, walked him over to a
bench and eased him into a sitting position.
     Chris started to say something but stopped when the
coach shot him a steely stare.  (Guy says they teach 'steely
stares' in Education 101 at most teachers' colleges.)
     The fight was over.  Coach told the rest of the boys to
dress for class and get into the gym.  Mr. Duncan would take
over.  Chris was instructed to follow Coach into the office.
     Mr. Beason entered his office followed by a less angry,
less pained Chris.  He ordered Chris to sit down and sent
Dillon on to class and began the process of cleaning me up.
     "I don't think there are any breaks," he said while
feeling my nose and cheek.  He put ice on my eye and used a
pressure point to stop the nosebleed.
     After about fifteen minutes, things were coming back to
normal-except my cheek and eye were bruised and swollen to
the point I could hardly see out of it.  Trouble for me was
just beginning.  How would I ever explain what had happened
to Dad, who I would be meeting right after school?  Worse
yet, what would Guy say?
     As it turned out I didn't have to say a word to Dad.
By the time school let out and we (We meaning Dave, Rob,
Ron, Dad and I) met to go home, Dad had already heard about
a dozen different versions of what had happened.  All I had
to do was pick the version I liked best and stick with that
one.  Of course, none of the versions had ALL the facts but
any of them were close enough to the truth to be
satisfactory.
     After dinner that night, Dad, Guy and I had a 'little
meeting'.  I was able to avoid the story about Jane, not
wanting to get into that embarrassing episode.  That, I
thought, was better forgotten.  But I suspect that Dad,
through his grapevine, knew all about the party and what she
said had happened.  But he never made any reference to it.
     I'm sure any reader of this piece has had that meeting
with his parents and can pretty well guess what
transpired-you know, the piece about not fighting at school,
trying to get along with peers, controlling anger-the whole
kit.  Dad was pretty sure I hadn't instigated the quarrel
that led to the fight so I wasn't grounded or anything like
that but I did have try to make peace with Chris and Mr.
Beason.  Making peace with Mr. Beason would be easy.  He
liked me.  Chris would be a different matter.
      I lived through the last couple of weeks of school
without having any more run-ins with Chris.  We didn't
exactly make peace but we managed to avoid each other and by
the time summer vacation started new items of interest
superceded the news of my first and last experience at
straight sex.
     Guy loves to say that no matter what catastrophes we
face, we do live through them.  My senior year at St. G's
was no exception.  Jane, of course, never spoke to me again.
In fact very few girls spoke to me-not even a "good
morning".  But that was OK.  I was more concerned with other
matters.
     Joe left for the Marines immediately following his
graduation.  (That was the summer before I entered my senior
year.)  George went off to college.  Ron and I had the Upper
Room all to ourselves.  He never mentioned hearing of my
attempts at having sex with Jane, but I'm sure he must have
heard something.  It just never came up again.

     Joe came home for his first leave in November, just
before Thanksgiving.  During his time at home, Joe
introduced me to a whole new aspect of being gay-the bars!
     I don't know where he'd heard about Tulsa's gay bars,
but a week before he was due to return to Camp Pendelton, he
suggested we go out, just the two of us.  He told me there
was a place he wanted to show me.  Of course, I had no idea
what he was talking about.
     It was a Friday night.  Dad understood the need for us
to have some time alone and didn't ask too many questions
about what Joe had planned.  Joe only told him enough to
allow us to get the car for the evening.
     "What are we going to do tonight?" I innocently asked
Joe.
     "Just wait, Jase.  I'm going to take you someplace like
you've never seen before."
     We drove to a place just south of the older part of
downtown.  It was a yellow brick building, surrounded by a
parking lot and several apartment buildings.  There was a
rainbow flag hanging over the door.  I was truly surprised
when Joe pulled the car into the parking lot.
     "Joe, what is this place?  I don't think I've ever paid
any attention to it before."
     "This my little brother is a hang out for gay men."
     "You mean it's a gay bar?"
     "Yeup."
     "Joe, are you forgetting that neither of us is old
enough to go into a bar.  We have to be at least twenty-one.
What if they ask us for ID?"
     "Not to worry, Jase.  I've been here before and the
barkeepers aren't too careful about looking at ID.  We both
look older than we are and if they do ask for ID and decide
to really look at it, all they'll do is tell us to leave.
At least you'll have the experience of having been inside.
We'll just order a draft beer.  That's pretty safe and with
your cute smile I'm sure you can charm your way into the
heart of any gay man."  Joe laughed.
     I wasn't at all comfortable about this.  I could just
see a barkeeper taking my ID and calling Dad to come pick me
up.  Geez, this looked complicated to me.  But Joe could get
into real trouble if they saw his military ID and decided to
call the MPs or something.  By the time we parked the car
and had walked up to the door, I was in a heavy sweat.
     We opened the door to the bar and were immediately hit
by the heated air accompanied by the smell of beer, sweat
and something I couldn't identify right away but suspected
was the smell of horny men.  It was a great smell!  I also
began to notice the smell of my own sense of panic.
     A young man, probably in his early twenties, was
sitting on a stool, blocking the door with his extended
legs.  He was dressed only in a pair of cut off jeans,
probably not a pair he could legally wear on the street.
His semi-erect cock and balls were dangerously and
enticingly exposed.
     "There's a show tonight, gents.  That'll be a three
dollar cover, each."
     While Joe pulled out his wallet and handed him some
money, the man smiled as he looked us over.  We were both
dressed in tight Levi's and a tee shirt with a light jacket.
It was unseasonably warm for November.  He apparently liked
what he saw.
     "Have a nice night, guys."
     "Thanks," Joe responded.  "That's what we're here to
do."
     After we walked away from the bouncer, Joe said, "See?
I told you we'd not have any trouble getting in.  How about
a beer."
     We walked over to the bar.  I felt like Alice in
Wonderland.  I'd never seen so many hot looking gay men in
one place in my life.  But when I saw the man behind the bar
my heart took an extra beat.  He was about six feet tall,
dark complexioned with long black hair.  He was shirtless,
exposing a strong hairless chest and black hair in his
armpits.
     "What'll you have, boys?" he asked.
	There was a light sheen of sweat on his torso.  The
hair in his pits was wet with persperation.  His scent was
strong and reminded me of Joe's when he was really horny.
     "What do you have on draught," asked Joe.
     "Bud, Coors.  We have other beers in bottles at the
same price, though.  We want you to have plenty of money to
tip the dancers," he answered with a smile and chuckle.
     His teeth were perfectly formed and beautifully white.
In fact I didn't see anything about this dude that wasn't
perfect.  I thought I'd be willing to tip him big bucks just
for standing behind the bar.  I couldn't imagine anyone else
in the place attracting my attention the way he did.
     "Two bottles of Lone Star, then."
     "I need to see some ID from the young one here."
     My heart sank.  I realized this man had to be at least
four years older than me and I would never have a chance at
getting to know him, but at least it would have been fun to
sit at the bar and drink him in along with the beer.
     Joe whispered in my ear, "Show him your driver's
license.  While he's looking at it, pull off your jacket and
shirt as if you plan to stay awhile."
     "Hunh?"
     "Just do it, bro."
     I did as Joe instructing, placing my jacket on an empty
bar stool next to the one I was sitting on and tucked my tee
shirt into the back of my jeans.  Joe did the same.  I
handed my license to the god behind the bar and waited as he
examined it.
     "Looks good to me," he said with a wink.  "Two Lone
Stars coming up."
     "Joe, what just happened?"
     "I told you.  I've been here before and these bar keeps
are only to willing to risk having a minor or two in the
place.  Especially if they like the way the minor looks
and I think he does.  Besides the cops only come around once
in a while and this place was raided last month.  They
probably won't be hassled again until the middle of
January."
     The bar tender gave us our beers.  Joe paid him the
cost and put two more dollars in the tip jar.
     "Thanks, buddy," the barman said.  "I haven't seen you
two in here before."
     "It's my little brother's first time.  I used to come
in once in a while before I left for Boot Camp."
     "So I guess you're a Marine?"
     "Yeup."
     "Well welcome home, Marine.  They call me Cherokee."
     "I'm Joe and this young stud is my brother, Jason."
     Cherokee shook our hands, giving me an extra wink, and
turned to wait on another thirsty man at the end of the bar.
After he'd waited on two or three other guys and they had
walked back to their tables, he came back to us.  We were
the only two sitting at the bar.  The rest of the small, but
growing crowd, was seated at tables or standing or sitting
on stools arranged around the wall.
     About 9:30, the lights dimmed, a spot came on lighting
a small stage in the corner.  A young man, who couldn't have
been a lot older than me, danced onto the stage, dressed in
shirt, slacks and socks, no shoes.  I'd never seen a
stripper perform before and was excited to see just how far he
might go.
     Joe whispered to me, "If you like the kid, slip a buck
in his g-string."
     "Hunh?"
     "After he begins to strip, stupid."
     "Oh."
     It didn't take long for me to catch on to what happens.
The boy pulled off his shirt after only a couple of minutes
and began dancing near the edge of the stage.  He was one
hot looking dude, I can tell you!  A couple of older men
sitting near the stage waved a dollar bill at him.  He
danced over to them and they slipped the bills into his
pockets, taking a lot longer to do so than I thought would
have been necessary.  The boy winked at them and danced
away.
     His pants came off next and more bills were waved at
him.  At this point he was wearing a pair of briefs and the
hands stuck the bills under the elastic band around his
waist.  A few men stuck the bills up the leg holes of his
shorts, stuffing them all the way under his briefs.  More
smiles and winks from the boy.
     He danced toward the back of the stage and removed his
briefs, leaving him wearing only a pouch-what Joe explained
was a g-string.  The crowd went wild as he strutted across
the stage, receiving a lot more bills, numerous kisses and
what were obviously gropes at his crotch.  The more the
crowd yelled, the more he strutted, the more money was
shoved into his pouch.  I looked at Joe to see his reaction.
He smiled back at me and asked if I was having fun.
     "Yeah, this is great!" I exclaimed.  I was really
sweating by this point.
     The boy jumped down from the stage and began moving
among the tables toward the bar.
     "When he gets back here slip a couple of these into his
pouch.  Squeeze his nuts if you want to.  It's what he'll be
expecting."
     I stuck the money Joe gave me into the boy's pouch, got
a good feel of his package and was rewarded with a kiss on
the lips.  He stroked my bare chest, exclaiming, "Nice!" and
danced to work the rest of the crowd, disappearing through a
door behind the stage.
     "Wow," I said.  "This is great fun, but it could get to be
a little bit expensive."
     "Just wait.  There's probably more dancers waiting in
the wings.  Hey, Cherokee can we have a couple more of
these."
     I'd completely forgotten the beer sitting on the bar
next to my elbow.  I downed it by the time Cherokee brought us
two more.
     "Take it easy, Jason," Cherokee warned.  "If you're new
at this you could get in over your head."
     "Thanks, Cherokee," I said and watched him move down
the bar.
     After about an hour, three more dancers and another
beer, Cherokee again appeared at my elbow.
     "The boss wants to know if you'd like to take a turn on
the stage."
     "Who, me?" I asked.
     "Either one of you or maybe you'd both like to swing
through the crowd.  The boss says you don't have to take off
your briefs if you don't want to or if you don't own a
string."
     Joe and I both laughed.  "We're not wearing briefs
either," answered Joe.
     "I didn't think you were.  You showed way too much box
to have anything under those Levi's.  If it were up to me,
I'd say that's OK but the boss isn't willing to tempt the
cops by having guys dance completely naked.  Those g-strings
are pushing things as it is."
     The floorshow ended with the promise of more to come
later.  Dance music started up and several men began
dancing.
     "You want to join them," Joe asked me.
     "Sure, why not."
     Joe and I danced for a while, when Cherokee came up behind
 Joe.
	"Mind if I cut in?"
     "Have a ball," my big protective brother responded.
     The music changed to a slow rhythm and Cherokee pulled
me into a tight hug.
     "Do you mind dancing cheek to cheek?" he asked me.
     Foolish man, I thought.  "No," I said.  "This is fine."
     "I figured I deserved a break and couldn't think of a
better way to take it than to dance with the sexiest stud in
the place."
     "Who's that?" I asked innocently.
     "Well you, of course!"
     "Aww, Sheeeit."
     Cherokee pulled me closer to him, pressing my face into
his chest.  His hands wandered down my back toward the waist
of my jeans.  We were both wet with sweat.  He smelled
sweet, the scent spiraling through my nose straight to my
crotch.  I was getting hard.  What's better was that I could
feel his cock getting hard against my leg.  I felt him
trying to get a finger under the waistband of my jeans.  But
they were really tight and he couldn't get more than the
first couple of knuckles of his little finger inside.
     His other hand came between us.  He fumbled with the
top button of my jeans.
     "Do you mind if I loosen this a little?"
     "Feel free," I whispered hoarsely.  Sweat broke out all
over my body, running from my face down my neck, from my
underarms all down my side.  I was almost as wet as if I'd
been swimming.  My cock was a rock, no it was a steel rod.
It was so hard it hurt as it pressed against the confinement
of my jeans.  There was a wet spot forming along my leg.
     Cherokee had one hand inside the back of my pants,
reaching almost to the top of my ass channel.  With the
other hand he popped the second button of my jeans.  The
hand at my back slipped further down, fingers pushing into
my channel.  He popped the third button and reached his hand
inside the fly groping for my cock.  His other hand was far
enough into my ass channel I could feel him begin to finger
my pucker.
     We continued dancing.  Because of the crowd on the
dance floor, I was sure no one was able to see what we were
doing.  Both of my hands were wrapped around Cherokee's
back.  I pushed one into the back of his jeans.  They were a
little looser than mine and I could get about half my hand
inside.
     "Let me help with that," he whispered just barely loud
enough for me to hear above the noise of the music.
     I felt his jeans loosen as he popped the first three
buttons of his jeans.  His pubic hair rubbed lightly against
my stomach just above my pubes.
     "Oh, god," I whispered back.  "You think this is OK?"
     "You bet your sweet ass it is.  It's better than just
OK . . . How late are you guys going to stay?"
     "I don't know.  It's kind of up to Joe.  He's got the
keys."
     I felt a second pair of hands come between us; looked
over Cherokee's shoulder and was looking straight into my
brother's eyes.  I couldn't tell what he was thinking but I
don't think he was happy.  There was the hint of anger in
his glare.  His hands clasp around Cherokee's stomach and
pulled him away from me just a little.
     "What the fuck are you doing to my little brother, man?
Whatever it is, I'm not sure I'm going to like it."
     Cherokee's hands immediately came out of my jeans as he
turned his head looking into Joe's glowing eyes.
     "Hey, man," Cherokee said.  "We're just dancing . . .
having a little fun."
     "You two are through dancing!"  Joe's voice was soft,
but there was anger there, anger I'd never heard from him
before.  "You're not going to make a whore out of my
brother."
     "Man, that's not what I'm trying to do.  I can see he's
a nice kid, but you brought him here.  You should have known
someone might come on to him."
     Joe pulled Cherokee away from me.
     "Jase, I think we need to go."
     "Please, Joe.  We were just horsing around.  Don't get
mad at Cherokee.  He didn't do anything I didn't let him do
. . . didn't want him to do."
     "Sheeeit, Jase.  You're too young to know what this
buck Indian was about to do to you.  I don't like it."
     "Hold on, Joe.  Let's have a beer," I pleaded.
     "Well pull up your pants and button them.  You're
mooning the whole bar."
     Joe was angry but trying to keep himself under control
as we walked off the dance floor.  Cherokee was equally
determined to not allow the situation get out of control.  I
was just plain scared shitless that this was going to get
very nasty.
     We walked toward the back wall of the bar, found an
empty table and sat down.  Joe turned his chair around so
the back of the chair was against the table and straddled
the seat.  VERY MACHO!  Cherokee and I sat down in the
normal fashion.  Cherokee leaned across the table toward Joe.
     "Look, Marine.  I didn't mean anything and I sure don't
want any trouble.  Your brother here is a hot kid and you
said we could dance.  I did ask you first, remember?"
     "That's the only reason you're not dead, Injun.  This
kid is only seventeen and I should never have brought him in
here but I wanted to give him a little forbidden fun.  I
didn't expect some hunk to try to rape him on the dance
floor."
     "OK, you two.  I'm sitting right here.  I have
something to say about what I do and neither one of you owns
me.  Joe, Cherokee was coming on to me.  I know that.  I
liked it.  I like him and was just beginning to come onto
him too.  Hell I've got a wet spot in my jeans the size of
Grande Lake.  He wasn't doing anything to me I didn't or
don't want.  OK?  Now you two calm down."
     The two men stared at each other, each trying to think
of what to do next.  Cherokee looked over his shoulder,
caught the eye of another barman and signaled him to bring
us three beers.  No one said anything as the beers were
served.  Joe took one in his hand, lifting it up to look
deeply into the bottle.  Cherokee fumbled around with his,
watching Joe, letting his eyes wander toward me as I watched
them both.  I took a big swig from the bottle, letting out a
loud burp from the air I swallowed along with the beer.
Both men looked at me, then began laughing, first softly,
then louder until both were practically falling out of their
chairs.  The men at tables near us stared as if the two of
them had lost their minds.
     "Come on you two," I ordered.  "This poor little sheep
wants to dance with both of you!"
     We moved onto the dance floor, wrapped our arms around
the other two and began to dance.  Fortunately, it was
another slower piece of music and the three of us were able
to fall immediately into the correct step.  There were now
two hands trying to push their way into the top of my jeans.
I popped the top button, allowing easy access to my ass.
Their fingers met just above my hot little hole.  I thought
for just the briefest second there would be trouble but my
two partners looked at each other, frowns turned into smiles
and they both squeezed my ass cheeks.
     Cherokee excused himself to go back to work.  He said
he hoped to see us later.  Joe gave him a smile, "OK.
That's possible."
     The music went into a faster beat, the lights dimmed
again as one of the dancers took his place on the stage.
     "You want to make some cash, Little Bro?"
     "I don't think so.  Some old perv would grope me and
you'd go ballistic," I teased my big brother.  "I'll just
slip more money into HIS pouch for a while."
     We drank our beers in silence, enjoying the stripper as
he went through his routine.  Naturally he eventually ended
up at our table.  Joe slipped several bills into his string
and as the boy bent to give him a thank you kiss, Joe
whispered something to him.
     "What'd you say to him?" I asked.
     "Oh, you'll find out."
     We stayed for the rest of the show.  Joe tipped the
other dancers but I noticed none of them received more than
one dollar.  The show ended and Cherokee brought us more
beer.
     "Cherokee, if they can spare you at the bar bring two
more and join us."
     "Yep, I think the crowd is beginning to thin out.  It's
getting close to quitting time."
     Surprised, I glanced at my watch and saw it was a
quarter to two-the time all bars in Oklahoma have to shut
down.
     Two more beers? I thought to myself.
     The first dancer walked from behind the stage, came
over to our table and joined us.  Cherokee was only a couple
of steps behind him.
     "Drink up guys," he warned.  We have to clear out of
here in just a few minutes.
     Joe greeted the dancer a hug and a kiss.
     "What's your name, boy?" he asked.
     "I'm Terry . . . You know like Terry and the Pirates?"
     "Well, we'll just be your pirates, then Terry.  This is
Jason and I'm Joe.  You know Cherokee, I guess."
     "Of course.  I know Cherokee very well," he said with a
wink.
     "Better than you ought to Terry," said Cherokee.  "What
do you have in mind, Joe?"
     "Don't know I have anything in mind but does anyone
have a place we can continue this party?"
     "Sure," said Terry.  "I have a dump just down the
street.  Cherokee, can you get us a couple of more beers, or
maybe something a little stronger?"
     "Sure can.  Meet me outside in about ten minutes.
We'll see what happens."
     Cherokee looked straight at me and winked.  The smile
that accompanied the wink sent chills down my spine.  I
could feel the tingle all the way into my ass hole.  I hoped
I knew what was going to happen.
     We met outside the bar, left the cars in the parking
lot and walked the two blocks to Terry's "dump".  Cherokee
had two paper bags, one of which he gave to Joe.  There was
a definite clink of bottles as we walked, laughing, talking
and almost skipping down the street.  It was probably a good
thing the police didn't come by about that point.  I'm sure
we'd have all ended up in the slammer.
     Terry's apartment wasn't exactly a dump but it wasn't
what I'd have called a nice place to live.  The hallway
stank of a whole bunch of unidentified odors.  The walls
needed paint and the carpet runner had definitely seen
better days.  Terry unlocked and used his shoulder to push
the door open.  Inside the apartment was much better than
the hallway might have indicated.  There wasn't much
furniture, just a TV, sofa, a couple of wooden chairs and a
cabinet with drawers.  There were three doors opening off
the 'living room'.  Terry directed us through one that led
to the kitchen.  He showed us which door went into the
bedroom and which led to the bathroom-just in case we needed
to use it.  The place was immaculately clean.
     Cherokee went into the kitchen and came out with four
glasses of amber liquid.
     "Gents, this is the best the bar has to offer.  Drink
and enjoy it."
     We each took a glass.  Sheeeit, it was straight bourbon
and burned my throat all the way down.  On top of the beer,
the bourbon immediately made me light headed.  Terry opened
a cabinet door, pulling out a bowl of reefers.
     "This IS the best this humble dwelling has to offer,"
he announced proudly.
     We took seats, sipped our drinks and smoked.
     Terry put on some music; we paired off and began to
dance.  Within minutes Cherokee had my shirt back off, my
Levi's unbuttoned and pushed down over my ass.  Terry began
his stripping routine and was naked.  Joe never took his
eyes off the dancing boy as he began pulling off his
clothes.  Terry suggested they'd be more comfortable in the
bedroom and he thought Cherokee and I might enjoy some
privacy.
     Boy would we! I thought.
     Cherokee pushed me onto the sofa, knelt on the floor
and after removing my boots, pulled my jeans off my legs.
He kissed the insides of my thighs, stood and quicker than a
bunny stripped off his clothes.  I hoped that was the only
thing he'd do quickly that night.
     He was BEAUTIFUL!  Cherokee was better looking than
Joe, Dad, Guy and my other three brothers all wrapped
together.  His chest and torso were finely chiseled, not
bulked, but well shaped.  Except for his armpits and the
thick bush that crowned his cock and his balls, he was
totally hairless.  Certainly a contrast to the hairy men I'd
always seen and admired.  His cock was uncut, maybe a little
more than seven inches and thick.  Lube was dripping from
the tip making a ribbon that reached almost to the floor.
His skin was evenly copper colored.  Either he never exposed
his naturally copper body to the sun, or when he did he was
naked.
     I reached to pull him down onto the sofa with me, but
he dropped to his knees in front of me.  OK, I thought.
That's a good beginning.  I locked my legs over his
shoulders and behind his neck and pulled him willingly into
my crotch.
     My cock had been hard and dripping lube for what seemed
to have been hours.  Cherokee began licking away the dried
precum from the inside of my thigh, working himself slowly,
painfully slowly, toward my dripping six plus inch cock.  He
finally took me in his mouth and licked away the dried goo
and cheese from under my foreskin.  He didn't say a word.
He just licked.  I was going out of my skull, unsuccessfully
trying to be quiet to avoid Joe and Terry hearing us.
Cherokee had me at the brink of shooting my load from the
second his mouth engulfed my cock.
     He lifted off me.  "Don't even think about shooting
your load, boy.  I'm going to suck you until your poor old
dick is raw and then I'm going to fuck you to kingdom come.
I don't want you going too soon."
     From my cock, he moved to my nuts.  He took each of
them in turn into his mouth and sucked, pulled and licked.
I couldn't hold on much longer.
     "Please, Cherokee.  Fuck me, Injun.  I want that cock
up my ass and I WANT IT NOW!  FUCK ME!"
     I'm sure he did it just to please me.  Cherokee pushed
me fully onto the sofa and practically jumped into the
saddle.  He was as ready as I was and forced his beautiful
cock into my hole with one stroke.  There was no pain.  Even
when Joe fucked me, I hurt before it became pleasure.  With
Cherokee, I went straight to pleasure-JOY-ECSTASY-HEAVEN!
     Cherokee pounded his big cock into me hard, pumping his
tool in and out, grunting as he pushed himself deeper into
my body.  I met him thrust for thrust.  My button was pushed
so many times I knew I was just seconds from shooting my
load.  His body stiffened.  He let out a whoop that sounded
like a whole tribe of warriors charging the cavalry.  His
load shot into me.  He filled my shoot with his hot creamy
load.  My load exploded between us going over my head and
then more landing on my face, my chest, and my stomach.  I
WAS A TOTAL MESS!  And so was he.
     He fell onto me, our bodies still joined.  We lay there
panting as we heard the roaring of two lions in the next
room.  Neither of us could help ourselves.  We burst into
laughing.  Moments later, our laughter was joined from the
lion's den.
     Cherokee licked as much of my cum from my body as he
could reach without withdrawing his cock.  But, of course,
it grew soft and slipped from my boy pussy.  I moved so I
could get my mouth on his cock and tongued him clean.  We
lay back on the sofa, wrapped in each other's arms.
     We were totally relaxed and enjoying the closeness when
Joe followed by Terry burst from the bedroom.
     "JASE!  GET YOUR ASS UP!  Do you have any idea what
time it is?  Dad is going to have your ass and nail mine to
the Oak tree.  Get dressed.  We have to go!"
     "Sheeeit, Joe!"
     We dressed as quickly as possible, kissed our new
friends and headed for home, certain that we were in deep
sheeeit!

     It was 4:00 by the time we got home.  The house was
dark.  Maybe Dad and Guy were both asleep and wouldn't hear
us come into the house.  Right! And maybe we'll have a white
Fourth of July, I thought.  The latter was a lot more likely
than the former.
     We did make it into the house and up to our room
without encountering anyone.  We undressed in the dark,
careful to avoid waking Ron and climbed into bed.  Within a
couple of hours there was a knock on the door.
     "Rise and Shine, boys," came Guy's cheerful greeting.
"Breakfast is on the table."
     "Guy it's Saturday.  Can't we sleep in?"
     "Nope, your Dad has a surprise for you."
     Joe and I slowly crawled out of bed.  Damned Ron was
wide awake and feeling frisky.
     "What did you two do last night?  Dad checked up here
every hour on the hour after about midnight.  He didn't act
like he was too happy."
     "Never mind little brother.  Someday, Jason will expose
you to what we did."
     "Joe," I said, sniffing my armpit, "If you stink as
much as I do, we'd better not go down without a shower.  I
think the old ones will recognize the stink."
     "Jase, Dad and Guy have to know someday.  I just wish
we stunk a little more."
     "Gawd, if you two stunk any more, we'd have to fumigate
the whole house," exclaimed the youngest of our roommates.
"You better get a shower before you come down for breakfast.
You'll make the rest of us lose our appetites."
     Ron left the room laughing his fool head off.
     We showered, took a couple of dozen aspirin each and
washed out our mouths with toothpaste and about a pint of
mouth wash.  Sex was one thing, getting drunk was a whole
other matter.  After about twenty minutes we were entering
the kitchen.  All of our family was seated and eating
pancakes soaked in butter and syrup.  Somehow my stomach
didn't greet the sight of the food with any enthusiasm.
     "Have a seat, boys.  I have a fresh batch ready for
you."
     "Did you boys have a good time last night?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "What time did you get in?"
     "It was pretty late, I guess," admitted Joe.  "I'm
sorry, I kept the kid out so late, but we were having a good
time and it's the last time we'll be together for a long time."
     "I know that, Joe," responded Dad.  "That's part of my
surprise."
     "Dad's got us Internet access!" exclaimed the two
youngest brothers in unison.  "We can e-mail Joe wherever
he's stationed."
     "That'll be really neat, Dad.  But I'm not sure that I
can get access on base."
     "I'll bet you can, son.  I remember reading about even
during the Gulf War, all the service men had e-mail access.
It'll be great to have it.  But before I let you boys loose
on the Internet I think we'll need to go over a few
considerations."
     "Sure, Dad," all three of the youngers exclaimed.
     "Is that the surprise?" I asked.  "If it is, I'd like
to go back to bed."
     "Yes that is the surprise, but I have a long list of
chores for you guys to do today.  No more sack time, now."
     "Aww, Dad.  Please."
     "Boys, staying out late is one thing.  I wished you'd
called or sent a carrier pigeon or something so we'd have
known you were OK.  But part of life is living up to your
obligations even after a night of drunken revelry."  Dad was
smiling, almost laughing the whole time he said this.  Gawd
what torture.
     Joe and I survived the day, but we made sure we hit the
sack at a very early hour that night.  Another night at the
bars and with Terry and Cherokee was strictly out of the
question.  Besides there was church the next day.

     Joe left Tuesday-just four days after introducing me to
the joys of the gay bars.  But I knew it wouldn't be my last
time to go.
     The following Friday night, I asked Guy if I could use
his car.  He was watching the evening news.  Dad was in his
study.
     "And why do you want my car tonight, Jason?"
     "Well, I sort of have a date."
     "Ohhh?  Do I know this person?"
     "No, sir.  I met him last week when Joe and I went
out."
     "And you want to see him again?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "I have no problem with you using the car, Jason, but I
want to know who you're going out with.  What is he like?"
     "Oh, Guy.  He's wonderful.  He's absolutely the most
handsome creature I've ever seen. We took one look at each
and felt an immediate attraction.  He's about six feet tall,
Indian, wears his hair long.  And my god, is he ever built?
Like the statue of a Greek athlete.  He's very considerate,
a great dancer and an even better kisser. "
     "Whoa, there, Boy.  Too much information," Guy laughed
with his characteristic deep laugh.
     "Where did you meet him?"
     "Uh . . . Uh, Guy, Joe took me to Rascals last week.
I met him there."
     Guy's laughter stopped and his demeanor immediately
became cautious.
     "Rascals?  Aren't you a little young-about four
years too young to be going to Rascals?"  Guy wasn't
quite angry but the tone of his voice had taken on a
different edge.
     "Yes, Sir.  But Joe's too young to be there too and
they let us both in."
     "Did you get served?"
     "Yes, sir.  But it was just beer."
     "It doesn't matter what they served you, you had no
business being there-either one of you.  Can you imagine the
kind of trouble you could have gotten into if there had been
an ID check by the police?"  Guy's voice began to belie a
touch of anger.
     "Yes, sir.  I was scared to go there but Joe said he
thought we'd be OK.  It was . . "
     "I'm sure you were and equally sure he said that.  But,
boy, you've opened a door that you may not be ready to go
through.  I know we've always let you boys drink at home,
but going to a gay bar and being served . . . There's no
telling what you can get into.  So this boy you met at
Rascals, how old is he?"
     "I don't know, Guy.  I didn't ask him.  He's a
bartender there . . ."
     "He's a WHAT?  Jason, Jason, Jason.  He has to be at
least twenty-one to be working there.  He's an adult!  I
know you're not ready to get involved with someone that much
older than you are."
     "Uh, Guy.  You're old enough to be Dad's father.
There's what sexteen or seventeen years difference between your
ages?"
     "Well, yeah, that's true.  But your Dad was over
eighteen when we met."
     "You took him to a bar, didn't you?"
     "True, I did.  But in California then . . ."
     "Guy, I'm less than a year younger than Dad was when
you met and plied him with liquor," I said, laughingly.
     "And look what happened to us," he laughed back.
     "Yeah, you ended up with five grandsons."
     "It's still not legal for you to meet this man in a
bar."
     "But, Guy, I've already met him.  I look older than I
am and he's really a neat man.  I'd like to get to know him
better."
     "Jason, did you two have sex?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "Did you . . .?"
     "Uh, no.  We forgot."
     "Oh, my god, boy.  You forgot?  Didn't HE think of
using a rubber?  He works in a gay bar.  Undoubtedly he's
had sex with other men.  Do you realize what danger you put
yourself in?"
     "Yes, sir. I know.  I'm sorry."
     "I just hope you don't have reason to be more sorry,
boy."
     Guy wasn't angry with me.  He wasn't yelling or
anything like that but I could see he was severely
disappointed that I had been so careless; maybe more
disappointed that I'd gone out with an older man who was
equally careless.  I was beginning to cry.
     "I don't know about this, Jason.  Have you had sex with
anyone else, either with or without a condom?"
     "Just my brothers, Guy," I sobbed.
     "Well, you can't do that any more, Jason . . . not
without a condom.  If this idiot has infected you, we have
to be sure you don't infect Ron.  If you get intimate with
your brother, you WILL use a condom!  Is that clear?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "And if you go with this man again, you'll play safe.
Is that understood?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "I don't like this Jason.  But I also know it's
probably useless for me to forbid you from seeing him again
. . . unless I tie you in the basement.  But you'd probably
enjoy that too much," he laughed without a lot of
conviction.  "You need to get some of this out of your
system.  It's not in the nature of gay boys to always do
what they need to do.  And I can see a certain allure on
your part to be with this man.  But I don't have to like
it."
     "So, Can I see him tonight?"
     "Against my better judgement, I'm going to say, 'yes'.
But BOY, you'd better remember you have a responsibility to
be careful.  No matter what!  Is that understood?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "And I want you home before midnight!"
     "GUY!  He doesn't get off work until 2:00.  We won't be
able to . . ."
     "Sorry, Boy.  Midnight and that car turns into a
pumpkin."
     "Yes, sir," I said knowing that to argue with Guy was a
lost cause.  All it would get me would be without wheels.
"I'll be home by midnight."
     "It wouldn't hurt for you to let your Dad meet him, you
know."
     "OK.  If he's willing to still see me, I'll bring him
home sometime.  No use to do that yet though, I guess.  I
hardly know him."
     "Apparently you know him well enough to bareback with
him.  That's getting to know him pretty DAMNED well, if you
ask me."
     "Guy, Language."
     That lightened the mood a little.  Guy at least smiled
back at my joke as he handed me the keys to his car.

     I went to Rascals that evening wearing a pair of baggy
jeans, a tee shirt and light jacket.   Not having Joe to act
as my shield, I was almost as nervous as I had been the week
before.  I had no idea how Cherokee might react to seeing me
again.  I hoped he was as anxious to see me as I was to see
him.  I'd never been in love, but somehow I thought I might
be falling in love with the big Indian.  But could he love
me?  Hell, there was no reason to think he'd even remember
me!
     I opened the door to the bar and walked in, getting hit
by the same heat and smells as my earlier experience.  The
same guy was sitting at the entrance, dressed in the same
shorts.  His package was fully exposed and he wasn't wearing
a shirt.
     "That'll be three dollars, cover . . . Well hello
again, young man.  I was wondering when you'd be back.  I
have a feeling there may be some one else here who'll be
glad to see you."  He laughed.  His laugh was not very
pleasant.  More the kind of laugh we hear in the movies when
the tension is high and we know something wicked is about to
happen.
     I paid the cover and walked toward the bar.  Cherokee
was waiting on another man.  I pulled up a stool, sat down,
removed my jacket.  It was really hot inside the bar.  There
was an older man-I mean really older, at least as old as Dad
sitting at the stool next to me.
     "Is that all you're going to take off, boy?" placing a
five dollar bill on the bar next to me.
     I gave him what I hoped was my best "go to Hell" look
and moved to another stool.  Some people just rub you the
wrong way right off the bat.
     Cherokee was shirtless.  I guess that was the normal
uniform in his profession.  He finished mixing the drink for
the man he had been waiting on and looked around to see who
had just come in.  His smile nearly broke his face when he
saw me.  He grabbed a Lone Star from the case and walked to
me.
     "Here you go, stud.  I wasn't sure whether you'd be
back.  Glad to see you. Where's that body guard brother of
yours?"
     "Joe had to go back to Pendelton.  I'm here all by
myself."
     "Well I'm glad you are."
     I placed the money for my beer on the counter.
Cherokee pushed it back toward me.
     "It's on the house, babe."
     Then, reaching across the bar, he grabbed the collar of
my tee shirt, pulling me toward him, kissed me full on the
mouth.  Maybe I should say in the mouth because his tongue
was half way down my throat before I could react.
     "I'm really glad you came back."
     Someone called out to him from down the bar and he
walked down to fix the guy's order.
     The lights dimmed just as they had the week before, a
dancer came onto the stage and began to do his strip.  It
was Terry, but he couldn't see me until he began to work the
crowd, dressed only in his g-string.  When he made it back
to the bar and saw me, he immediately came to me, kissed me
and asked where Joe was.  I told him.
     "I really enjoyed last Friday.  Sorry Joe's gone.  When
will he be back?"
     "I don't know Terry.  But he'll probably be gone for at
least a year or more."
     "Shit!  I haven't been fucked by anyone in a long time
like your brother did me.  I could really get to like him, I
think."
     "He seemed to like you too," I responded.
     "Well, see ya around, Kid."
     Terry danced away, his pouch filled with dollars.
     Two dancers followed Terry.  But I was much more
interested in watching Cherokee as he moved around the bar,
talking to patrons and fixing drinks.  Several times, he
slipped me more beer.  During the second show, he came
around to the front of the bar, carrying two bottles,
grabbed my hand and pulled me to an empty table way back in
the corner.
     "I hope I can tear you away from the strippers," he
laughed.  "But I want to talk to you."
     We sat down and stared at each other.
     "Jason," he began hesitatingly.  "I really enjoyed the
other night.  In fact I don't know when I've had such a good
time.  I think I'd like to get to know you a lot better.
That's why I was so happy to see you walk in here tonight.
Does that mean you want to know more about me?"
     "You'd better believe it.  It took some hard explaining
and whining to get my granddad to let me have the car so I
could come.  The problem is I have to be home by midnight."
     "Oh"
     "If I hadn't promised, I wouldn't have been able to
come at all."
     "OK, then.  I guess we won't be able to play around
tonight, then."
     "I'm really sorry, Cherokee.  I wanted to play with you
really bad.  But I guess we can't do anything tonight."
     "When the shows are over, we can dance, at least."
     "I'd like that. But don't you have to work?"
     "Jake and Terry will cover for me for a while.  We
could slip out for a little bit then."
     "I've never done anything in the back seat of a car.
That should be fun."
     "Yeah, maybe."
     "You know we were pretty stupid last Friday," Cherokee
said, rapidly changing the subject.  "You know barebacking
the way we did."
     "Yeah, that's one reason I think I have to be in
earlier tonight."
     "What do you mean?"
     "When I told Guy I'd forgotten to use a rubber, I
thought he was . . ."
     "Who is Guy and what did you tell him?"
     "Oh, Guy is my grandfather.  It's his car I'm driving.
He gave me the third degree, you know, about where I was
going and who would I be with.  All that sort of shit."
     "And you told him we fucked?"
     "Yeah, it sort of slipped out."
     "That's . . . that's really weird, man.  How do you let
it slip out to your granddad that someone fucked you?"
     "It's no big deal, except for the fact we didn't use a
rubber."
     "No big deal!  I'd never tell my Dad or anyone in my
family that I'd fucked a boy or that a boy had fucked me!"
     "My family knows I'm gay!  It's no big deal.  Except we
didn't use protection and Guy got all bent because of that.
He'll probably make me get tested again and I had to promise
to use a rubber from now on . . . even with my brother."
     "Ohhh, shit, man.  I don't believe you.  No one's
family is that . . . WITH YOUR BROTHER?"
     "Yeah.  Look, Cherokee.  Don't get bent about my
family.   We are very open and don't keep secrets.  Guy will
have me tested and if he ever meets you, he'll want to make
sure you've been tested too.  If you still want to be . . ."
     "With you?  You better believe I still want to be with
you.  You're a hot little pistol and I want to be with you
very much.  And if it makes any difference, I've been tested
regularly for the last two years.  Got the latest results
Wednesday.  I'm negative."
     "So am I.  Guy makes us get tested every month."
     We were sitting next to each other and talking in
hushed tones.  Neither of us could hardly keep our hands off
the other.  Cherokee kept stroking my back under my tee
shirt and I had my arm wrapped around his waist, feeling his
smooth toned body.  My little buddy was hard and weeping
into my jeans, forming I'm sure a very noticeable wet spot
along my thigh.
     The show ended.  The sound system began with some great
dance music.
     "Come on.  Let's dance at least.  Maybe if I'm lucky
I'll cum rubbing against you.  If not I can jack off when I
get home."
     We danced pressed together.  Cherokee pulled off my
shirt and tossed it away.  I never saw that shirt again.
Both of his hands fit under the waist of my baggies.
     "I like these jeans a lot better than those you wore
last week," he said squeezing both of my cheeks.  His
fingers were dangerously close to pushing into my crack.
     We danced through several numbers, never letting go of
each other.  Our cocks were hard and pressed together-even
during the fast music.  We hunched each other to the rhythm
of the music.  Cherokee had both hands in my ass crack,
rubbing against my boy pussy.  One, then two fingers worked
their way inside.  By undoing the top couple of buttons of
his Levi's I was able to mimic his actions, except I had one
hand inside his fly playing with his nuts and when I could
get to it, his cock.  We fucked as we danced, getting closer
and closer to letting loose our loads of cum.
     "Jase, I'm going to shoot inside my clothes.  We've got
to stop dancing."
     "Not on your life, Injun.  We're going to dance and rub
our bodies together until you let out that whoop.  I want
you to cum.  Because when you do, I'm going to be right
along with you."
     "OK white boy.  Here it cums."
     Jason groaned very loudly as he shot his load into my
hand.  I thought for a moment that the world had gone
totally quiet as I shot mine into my jeans.  Granted it
wasn't as good as if his cock were up my ass, but it was a
hell of a lot better than just jacking off.  A few of the
dancers applauded as they realized what we'd done.  But for
the most part, our orgasms went unnoticed except for
ourselves.
     Cherokee eventually had to get back to work and I
realized I had twenty minutes to make my curfew.  The drive
was a minimum of thirty minutes under normal circumstances
but somehow I made it-on time-without attracting the
attention of the police.  As I parked the car in the garage,
I realized I had lost my tee shirt and my jacket.  There was
a huge spot of cum showing through the light blue of my
jeans.  I just hoped no one was up waiting up for me.
     For once in my life, luck was with me-Everyone was
asleep!

     Over the next several months, I saw Cherokee every
Friday night.  During Winter Break, I was able to get out
several nights.  I'd passed Guy's requirements of being in
by midnight and so the Friday between New Year's and
Christmas, I was allowed to stay out until very early in the
morning.  Cherokee and I found a cheap motel and made the
most of our opportunity.  I was so sore the next morning, I
couldn't walk or sit down.  That Injun sure knew how to
fuck!
     Guy took me to the HIV testing site in town every week
for the next six months.  He wanted to make sure, obviously,
that I hadn't been infected.  After we'd gone together for a
little over six months, I was able to stay out late enough
to meet Cherokee after work and he'd been able to get away
from his parents' house for the night.  We ended up in Guy's
room for the night.  Dad has already told you about that
night-at least from his point of view.  For now, I'm just
going to say that he didn't do the episode justice.  I've
never had such a night in my entire life.
     Everyone liked Cherokee when they met him the next
morning.  Hell!  What was there not to like?  As far as I'm
concerned, he was and still is the ideal man.  After another
month, Cherokee moved all his stuff into the Upper Room and
we became partners in every sense of the term.
     For a short time, Ron moved down to the Dormitory, but
decided he couldn't cut being with the two younger brothers
any more and moved back in with Cherokee and me.  It didn't
seem to make any difference to any of us having a third
wheel just six feet away.

     During the summers I was in high school, I worked for
Bob Myers, a friend of Guy's who ran a land scape company.
Joe and George worked for him too.  He came to really like
us, either because of his friendship with Guy or because he
liked the way we worked.  Whatever the reason, he suggested
several times that when he was ready to retire, he'd like me
to consider buying him out.  Right!  I had no idea how I
could raise the money to do that.  But that was a problem I
would solve when the time came-if I decided I liked that
kind of work well enough.
     After he moved in with us, Cherokee quit his job at
Rascals and started working full time for Bob.  He was a
whiz at numbers and could lay out a land scape plan as
quickly as Bob could himself.  Together, they made a great
team and Cherokee learned the hardest part of the
business-the book keeping and planning.
     By the time I graduated from high school, Cherokee and
Bob had worked out a plan for us to buy the business.  I'd
be in charge of the physical stuff.  Cherokee would handle
the rest of it.  We were all set to go.
     The following September, Cherokee and I found an
apartment we liked and could afford and moved out of the
Upper Room.  Now the business is going great.  We have Ron,
Rob and Dave to help us on weekends and summers.  Money and
new customers are coming in regularly.  Life is Good!


There is at least one more story to tell.  I hope it will come
faster than this one did.

In the meantime, if you've enjoyed this series, e-mail me at
guyjameson@hotmail.com  I'd love to hear from you.