Date: Sun, 21 Sep 2003 10:44:12 -0400 From: Tom Cup Subject: Stephen Miller's Journal by Tom Cup - Chapter 1- A/Y, Incest Copyright 2000 - 2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? Airport Voyeur by Adam Brick, Chapter 2: Added 9/21 The Innocents: Paulo and Beto Chapter 11: Added 9/20 KOA Boy Chapter 9: Added 9/16 Article: A stick in the Queer Eye: Added 9/14 Private Lessons Chapter 7 Added 9/14 Raptors by Richard Dean Chapter 9 Added 9/14 Age Before Beauty Chapter 5 Added 9/9 Of Our Teenage Years Chapter 16: Added 7/22 Short Story: Such a Beautiful Boy Added 12 Short Story: Home Alone Added 7/1 Stephen Miller's Journal Chapter 13 Added 6/25 Calvin: Identity Crisis Chapter 14 Added 6/17 Article: Bisexuality Added 6/12 Article: My New Swimsuit's Too Small Added 6/03 Mentoring Brandon Chapter 10 Added 5/24 Labor of Love Added 5/21 TomCup.com now offers an Executive Club membership! Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com! ************************************************************************ Stephen Miller's Journal By Tom Cup Chapter 1 Dr. Ritten's Boys The Journal of Stephen Miller, October 17, 1992. The street was dark and slick as I approached the well-lit, newly renovated, Victorian house. There was a chill in the air - which one only feels after a cold, rainy, October night in Philadelphia. The light's sheen danced off the black paved road as I crossed to the drive of my first employer. I hoped working for Dr. Walter Ritten would lead to being introduced to someone in my field of study - Not that the job had anything to do with my field of study. I was a Political Science major, working for a Psychiatrist as a glorified babysitter. Still the job paid more than Temple University's work-study program, had flexible hours, provided a car to drive and an efficiency apartment, with a private entrance. I sat nervously in the atrium -- being sized up by Jon and Robby as I waited to be interviewed by their father. The boys were fifteen and thirteen respectively. They were as playful as any two brothers I'd seen. Robby whispering and giggling in Jon's ear - Jon giggling his "Knock it off" -- as they shared a joke between them. Gentle touches passed between them as they joked, lovingly punched and laughed with each other. I found that I was a little jealous of their uninhibited display of affection. I was an only child and was naturally curious about, and attracted too, the idea of brothers. Watching them surfaced years of longing for another voice during those silent hours in my room. I pretended then, as I suppose most only children do, that I had a brother. Sometimes I could almost hear him laughing at my dumb jokes or lovingly calling me a "dwebe." Some of the best times in my life were spent, alone, in my room with my imaginary brother. The door to the office opened. "You must be Stephen," Dr. Ritten stated, "I see the boys haven't chased you away." "No sir," I answered standing to take his extended hand. "That's a good start." I'd expected to be interviewing alone with Dr. Ritten but the two boys followed us into the office. I noticed, however, that their behavior had change - gone were the playful teen boys giggling before the stranger -- they were the clients sizing up the applicant. They had the final say as to who got the job. "So Stephen," Walter stated, "You've met Jonathan and Robert." The boy's raised their hands in greetings. "Hi, call me Jon." "You can call me Robby." I smiled and nodded my greetings back to the boys, trying to size them up, deciding how much trouble each of them would be and if the trouble would be worth my while. My job would consist of attending to meals for the boys, ferrying them various places, and generally keeping them out of trouble -- and out of the good doctor's hair. Walter made it clear that none of this was to interfere with my school work and that I should let him know if too much was being demanded of me. I was to be a live-in, surrogate, big brother. "They're good boys, really," he assured me, "I'm sure in no time there will be nothing they won't do for you. I simply need a break. With their mother off on her research project, which will last God only knows how long, I'm sure any help you can give will be most appreciated and you get out of the dorms to boot!" He was right of course. It was a sweet deal. How much trouble can two rich kids really get into? I had gotten into Temple by hook and by crook but these kids were headed for bigger and better things. Though I hadn't grown up poor, my family wasn't able to afford to pay for me to be at college. I lucked out with scholarships, financial aid, but I had to work also. This job meant I wouldn't have to work for McDonald's or do work-study on campus -- which only paid minimum wage -- and I would have more time to focus on my studies. Being offered and agreeing to take the job, I was given free range over the entire house except Walter's office. That was off limits. He explained that there was an expensive video and recording system in the office that he didn't want tampered with. He used it to videotape some of his most challenging cases and since the material was confidential, he preferred that no one but he use the room. That was wholly agreeable to me. The last thing I wanted to see was some manic spilling his guts. I was led to the second floor, west wing of the house. Walter let the boys orient me to my new surroundings. My apartment had its own bath and kitchenette - once separate rooms they were remodeled into the live alone unit. The laundry room, I was told was in the basement and I also had free use of those facilities for my own laundry -- another perk. The boys were expected to do their own laundry and to clean up after meals, among other chores. I was to supervise these activities. I discovered that the boys' rooms were right next to mine. I was relieved that I had my own entrance. This meant that if I ever wanted to go out, I wouldn't have to go through the house. Once the boys had turned in for the night I was free to go out and have some fun. I had to laugh at myself. First of all, I was not the party type. I was always a stay at home kid. Old habits are hard to break. Second, I wanted this job so I wouldn't have to get involved in the entire freshman one-ups-manship that goes on in dorm life -- who needs to learn who's the best drinker and barfer anyway? So thinking that I would be doing anything but working, going to class and studying was delusional. "So," Robby asked, "You got a girl friend?" "No, not really." "Oh," he stated, "Cause if you did you could bring her over. We don't mind." "What he's trying to say," Jon interpreted, "Is that he loves being a peeping Tom." They pushed and shoved each other playfully, smiling, taunting each other about the other's sexuality. Again, I was jealous of the freedom of the conversation that passed between them. I wasn't even sure which I would've preferred to be - the older or the younger brother -- I would have traded places with either. They made sure I had everything that I needed, (towels, soap, bedding, and the like) and then excused themselves, leaving me alone to work on my school assignments. I stretched out on my bed and began reading. I couldn't help, however, hearing the boys in the next room -- Jon's room. There was a lot of giggling and joking at first. Then hushed whispers. I tried to focus on my schoolwork but my mind kept wandering back to the boys. They both were cute I had to admit. And it appeared that they were sexually curious if not active. I thought back to what I was like when I was thirteen, fourteen and fifteen. I became curious about my body just after my twelfth birthday when I began getting constant hard-ons. I always had that gnawing feeling that wouldn't go away unless I put my hands in my pants and gentle squeezed my cock. Being an only child, and a loner, I hadn't heard about jacking off. So I would squeeze my cock through a pocket in my pants or at night through the fabric of my briefs. I was Robby's age when I first heard the term "jacking off." One of the kids at school teased me about shaking the piss off my dick like I was "jacking off or something." I stood at the urinal wondering what the hell he was talking about. Later that night, standing in my bathroom, I figured it out. I stood over the toilet shaking my cock like I was trying to get piss off of it. Nothing much happened as first but slowly I started to get hard. I kept shaking and the feeling in my cock grew. The shaking motion was becoming a slight up and down motion. The feelings grew and shaking was no longer enough. I wrapped my hand around my cock and pushed up and down. It felt heavenly and in moments I experience my first orgasm. I was hard now thinking about that first exploration of sexuality. I rolled over in my bed and began fondling my cock through my jeans. I had no real intention of jacking off. I just wanted to relieve some of the pressure with a quick feel up, and then back to work. As I lay there I began to hear sounds from the other room. It had been so quiet I had forgotten about the boys. I listened trying to make out what I was hearing. Moans. I knew the sound and smiled to myself. Jon must be relieving himself. I remembered when I was fifteen trying to quietly jack off, at night in bed, so that my parents wouldn't hear me. The bed began to creak. He was lost in it, I thought. Either he doesn't know, or doesn't care that I can hear him. I loosened my pants and unzipped the fly. As long as he was getting off, I didn't mine jerking with him -- even if he didn't know we were doing it together. More moans. He was getting close. As hot and horny as he was sounding, and as hot and horny as I was, I knew it wasn't going to take either of us long. I imagined him lying on top of his bed grinding his cock in his fist. The creaking of the bed and the moaning continued adding to my imagination's stream. I was stroking now to the rhythm of the sounds coming from the other room. Then I heard it. I couldn't believe my ears but I knew I heard correctly even through the muffling of the walls. "Oh God Jon, that feel so good." "Shhh! He might hear us." He had heard them - I had heard them. It wasn't Jon alone in his room jacking off. He was in there with Robby and whatever he was doing in there it was making Robby feel really good. Robby was lost and so was I. The sounds continued and I listened intently while stroking my own member. Robby was quiet for a while but sporadically I would hear him gasp for air. He was close - making little chirping sounds as he tried to hold on to control and not scream for pleasure. I, too, was trying to hold on. I didn't want to cum too soon but I wanted to cum as soon as possible. The sounds from the next room, and the knowledge that Jon and Robby were in there engage in sexual activity, was driving me wild. "Oh God," I heard Robby whisper. I grabbed the face cloth off the nightstand. My eyes closed and head tilted back, I listened to Robby's orgasm -- grunts muffled by the wall and his desire to respect Jon's wish not to make what they were doing obvious. But it was obvious. Jon had stimulated Robby to the point of orgasm -- I released mine into the cloth. I was jolted and surprised by the intensity of my climax. I had to steady myself with one hand as I fell forward on the bed. I kept pumping, nearly whimpering my pleasure. I felt like I was losing consciousness. It was a wonderful ride but, as I regained my senses, I realized that the boys were talking. Jon was insisting that he'd heard something. "Shhh... just listen." "You're just being paranoid." "You just don't care." Robby giggled. I loved hearing both of their laughs. "Like you care." Jon laughed. And I began to ponder about the kids in the next room. I looked at the cum wet rag in my hand and felt a pang of guilt. Maybe they didn't care but their father might. Especially if he knew I was in the other room listening and jacking off. How stupid could I be on the first night of the job? How would that look on a resume? Dismissed for jacking off with employer's sons. Well, that wasn't exactly what had happened. It was more like jacking of to the sounds of the employer's sons. Either way it didn't sound good. So I was stupid once. I had no plans to remain stupid. Wasn't that why I was here? - Eighteen and the first one in my family to go to college. I was smart enough to recognize a mistake when I made one. I could manage the situation. I'd tell the boys I heard them. I'd explain that such activities should remain private and that they should be more careful in the future. They'd understand that I wasn't condemning them for what they did but that it did "bother me." After all, I was trying to study. ************************************************************************ Send comments to: comments@tomcup.com To support this and other stories by the author, join at http://www.tomcup.com. If you like this story, check out Tom Cup's "Calvin: A Coming of Age Story." Available at Barnes and Nobles Bookstores, Amazon.com, your local independent bookseller, or get a signed copy from Tom Cup.com.