Date: Thu, 28 May 2015 15:07:05 +0000 (UTC) From: kevin Donovan Subject: The Business of Pleasure, Chapter Three, Gay Male Incest The following is a work of gay erotic fiction. Any resemblance to any real person or situation would be entirely coincidental and wildly improbable. In fact, the author has no clue in real life of what he is writing about. The story does involve, it is to be hoped, vivid descriptions of sex acts among adult males, including male relatives, who are unlikely to produce deformed offspring as a result. All characters are above the age for legal consent to sexual activity, and all are eager participants. Do not read this if you are underage in your locality or if downloading homoerotic material would be illegal. This is masturbatory fantasy material, guys, not to be attempted at home. In real life, be faithfully monogamous, or wrap it up! And slide me an email to let me know someone is out there! letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com THE BUSINESS OF PLEASURE By Kevin Donovan CHAPTER THREE "COOTER" Ditto could hardly wait until Cooter arrived on Sunday evening. He and the twins helped Benji open the pool, but his mind was elsewhere. It wasn't that he wanted to pass along all Deuce had told him, he would not do that. But he now felt confident that he could handle anything Cooter might spill to him, since he had had the shocking straight scoop from Deuce. He also could let Cooter know that he was a shoo-in on the job, and that he would be starting work, too, even sooner than Cooter did—-and that both of them would have to be broken in and trained in person by the boss himself, Deuce! Ditto was in kind of a daze. He was going to go from macho, stud quarterback to fuck-buddy with his best friend to hustler with ass and cock for sale to the general public, just in a matter of weeks. Hard to fathom. When he arrived, Cooter let himself in the back door of the house and stripped in the pantry, like everyone did, before showing himself up to Ditto's rooms, passing only the naked Pooch on the way. Ditto lay on his bed, also naked, and playing a video game. The two greeted one another cheerfully, and Ditto wasted no time spilling his news about the summer employment. "No shit?" Cooter exclaimed, "That easy? No audition dancing and stripping, or inspection, or anything?" "Cooter, Deuce has inspected your body very closely for years. He knows exactly what you've got and where it hangs, Dude. As for dancing, well-—we all know you dance like a zombie, but I get the impression that what swings between your legs is more important than the way your feet move. Not to mention, your muscles and build are outstanding, man, causing envy, consternation, and a rash of hard-on's wherever you go." "Well...ignoring that last, I guess Deuce does know pretty well what he's getting, but damn. And you say he's going to do training for me himself? What does that mean, exactly? Is he going to fuck me?" His voice put on a slightly distasteful tone, but his face said, "Oh, yeah, bring it on!" Ditto nodded, smiling coyly. "As many times as it takes til you get to be a pro, Baby. Face it, Cooter, if we do this, a hell of a lot of men are going to fuck us, and some are going to look like they been set on fire and beat out with a bush axe. But wait, there's more... you're going to start out with a big live sex show, in front of a bunch of guys, maybe twice, on the night of your birthday. I am, too—I'll be sure you get to see it somehow—-and Deuce is going to do me for my first time onstage! Yeah, what the fuck! My own dad is going to fuck my ass for the first time in front of a few dozen dirty old men! But, Dude, he's going to ask Ricky to do you for your first show! How about that! And he says we'll all start off with a ton of money. And he'll book our first tricks that same night, at like triple price. First we fuck onstage, then take on old geezers alone in a motel room. And rake in the dough. Cool, huh?" It felt good to Ditto to be telling Cooter something he did not know instead of the other way around, even though not all of it did sound all that cool. The money part did, though. And the pure exhibitionism of it. "Hold on, man, I'm not past the part where your dad fucks my ass yet." Cooter had his hands up on his cheeks, pressing his lips and jowls. "At least that will be private, Coot—your own brother is going to fuck your ass in public!" Cooter grinned. "And Deuce is going to do yours! Fuck!" "Speaking of `fucking,' why don't you do me right now? Deuce knows we do it, and he's O. K. with it. But he says no one else, O. K.? From now on, he says, we sell it." "I don't do anybody else, anyway, Dit," responded Cooter, looking slightly hurt. "Not even Ricky?" Now he looked chagrinened. "Well, not anymore. He broke me in, O. K., just to get me ready for your big, honkin' dick. He knew I really wanted you, but he offered to teach me how, you know, not to get hurt real bad, and help me get used to it. He has a big dick, but not near as big as yours. Since then, we've only sucked a little, a few times when we were both horny and didn't have anyone else to help us out." That explained why he was so easy to penetrate that first time, Ditto thought. "I'm a little jealous. Not that you did Ricky, but because I'd like to, too, sometime. I'll have to clear it with Deuce now, though—he's our boss. But hey—you mean you planned in advance to get me to fuck you? I thought I tricked you into it!" "Not on your life, Fucker. You did me because I wanted it, no other reason. Besides, I knew you'd be fair and bend over for me, too. But in a couple of weeks, man, you aren't going to have time to lust over Ricky—you are going to be getting plenty. Several a night. I just hope you have time for me! Can we take it, you think?" "I know I can. I love it. I think we'll be on top a lot of the time, though. I get the impression that most men want to get fucked. They can stick it in a hole at home. And don't worry, I'll still do you, too." "Fine with me. I'd rather drop my load anyway, with a stranger." This deal was sounding better and better to Cooter. "Some will be ugly, though," Ditto warned. "you know, if they have to pay us, they sure ain't getting' it for free." Cooter made a face. "That's why we have light switches," he declared. "And if they stink, dammit, I'll make `em take a shower first. On their own time." That put an end to the chatter, though. At this point, he was kneeing up toward his friend, boner bouncing. At their age, foreplay and romance didn't count for much, at least until the cream had been skimmed off the top of the tank. In fact, the two had only kissed for the first time a week earlier. Ditto was pre-lubed, since he had been anxiously expecting to get banged. He spread his legs as Cooter advanced. Cooter pushed Ditto's thighs back and centered his big, purple cock-head on Ditto's wrinkled, pink cunt-ring. Ditto smiled and exhaled happily as Cooter pressed into him. They began to breed. From the doorway, unbeknownst to the copulating buddies, young Pooch watched, rapt. He had come into Ditto's outer sitting room to see if the guys would let him join them in a video game, as they sometimes did. He hadn't expected the sight that greeted him, Cooter grinding his erection into his brother's butt hole, but he was amused and turned on to see it. He'd been an admirer of both boys' buttocks since he started noticing such things a couple of years earlier. Now, it was a treat to see Cooter's tight ass globes rising and falling above Ditto's well-muscled legs and feet. `So, big bro takes it up the ass,' he thought mischievously. `Not a bad thing to know about!' He watched for several minutes, as long as he could stand without giving himself away or risking them hearing him or getting a glimpse of him in the doorway. He tiptoed silently off to his own room to whack off lustily, the image of the two stud-hunks fresh in his sperm-drenched mind. Meanwhile, Cooter gave Ditto only a short ride before he lost his load deep within his buddy's bowel. The prostate massage would have to come later, on the third or fourth round, when he would have time to pace himself. Sweating, he rolled off his friend, and Ditto leaned over to reach for the lube tube nearby. He diddled Cooter's asshole with a slimy couple of fingers, and then he rolled atop him to take his turn. He had the advantage of having jacked off just an hour earlier, as he waited. He managed to last almost ten minutes this time, sending his partner into a frenzy of anal pleasure. Cooter creamed again all over his stomach just from the prostate pounding, hands-free. Then, immediately, Ditto sauced him. Inspired by the exciting new developments in their lives, Ditto sort of forgot himself then, and started to make out passionately with Cooter who, just as high-spirited, returned the oral tonguing with gusto. It was their first real session of serious love-making, but they hardly realized it until afterward. Ditto licked and kissed all over Cooter's lovely chest and pecs, sucking and biting lightly on his cute little brown nipples. Cooter groaned. "You can do that to me anytime, Man." But there would be more. Ditto worked his way south, lingering only briefly at Cooter's massive, ball-bat cock, before sliding down to spend more time than ever before on his smooth bull-balls. Cooter groaned louder. What raised the roof was when Ditto clamped his mouth down on Cooter's tight, pretty little asshole and began to tongue it. Cooter's groans shook the bed. "Damn, Dude, I better shut the door if you're going to howl that loud." "Can't help it," Cooter panted. "Never felt anything like that before. Why didn't you do that sooner? Where in hell did you learn to do that?" Ditto honestly didn't know. He just had the notion he'd like to taste the jizz he put into Cooter's rump. But once down there, he'd been surprised how pleasant it was to suck on his friend's ass. "It isn't nasty," he said. "It's like kissing, only no tongue in there." "Damn. You can't do that to me more than eight or ten times a day, O. K.? I can't stand any more than that." With just a light nudge, Cooter rolled up onto his knees, and Ditto rimmed him more in that position, with Cooter's asshole wide open to his earnest tonguing. But in a few minutes, he was back inside him fucking again. He came shakily, and the two boys collapsed into a sweaty tangle of limbs. In a few minutes, Ditto spoke. "We did open the pool yesterday, and the heat is on. Let's go get in it." Cooter nodded, catching his breath. "And then, stay over here with me tonight. Wear some of my stuff to school tomorrow. We have more practicing to do, don't you think? Cooter nodded again, his smile growing. "I'll phone Dad." Time fairly flew by for the two young men, occupied by preparations for their high school graduation, interspersed with periods of raunchy sex. Both were rimming one another now, and felching soon followed. Their make-out sessions became epic, as their inhibitions faded. The excuse that soon they would have to do all kinds of kink for strangers blew away any hesitations they might have had with one another. Cooter was practically living with Ditto at Mansfield. Benji spent some time with the guys in Ditto's suite giving them some tips on grooming, hustling, and showmanship. They spent hours together dancing and stoking hard-ons to the techno music of the male burlesque culture. The guys had never seen Benji in this light before, but they had to admit to one another, the man still had it, as a male sex object-—in fact, even in a youth-obsessed culture, he was in his prime. He could stay hard indefinitely, and shoot on demand. His movements were balletic. Even the rigid, incurably macho Cooter began to loosen up into more fluid motion in imitation of their teacher. What he lacked in control, he more than made up for in energy, enthusiasm and stamina. But Ditto-—oh ye saints and divinities!—-he was proving to be a natural seducer, lithe and graceful, while completely masculine. He had the erectile staying power: once he achieved Benji's ejaculatory control, he'd be a man to contend with on stage and screen. At school, Coach had a new way of looking the boys over with a coy smile, but he never said anything untoward. They suspected that he might know more about them and their future plans than he had any business to know, but he was never anything but friendly and cordial, as always. Graduation was on a Wednesday: Friday, just two days later, was the day of Ditto's Coming Out show. If he was less than focused at Wednesday's events, only he and Cooter (and maybe Coach) at the school knew why. At the same time, there was an undercurrent, hard to pinpoint exactly, not only with Coach, but with other men in town, too. Something about the way many men looked at Ditto, the way they approached and greeted him, shook his hand, looked him in the eye. It was unnerving. He tried to pass it off as just the natural consequence of his growing up and being received as a man among the men of the town, but it was more than that. Upon questioning, Cooter admitted he was feeling it, too. "They know," he declared. "I wonder how many of them will be there on Friday night." Ditto groaned. "It's, like, half the men in town, seems like. The Mayor. Mr. Gibbs, the history teacher. Mr. Simms, the vice-principal. Mr. Tolbert from the library. That guy from the post office. Our UPS man. Stan Jones, that has the men's clothing store. And worse—fathers of some of our friends, like Chadd Moore, Dennis Layton, and Freddie Valentine." "And Will Majors, and Eddie Mackey," Cooter added. "I'm sure they know. Makes me wonder—will any of those guys be joining us on the dance stage?" "Oh, shit. You think? Well—I can see Chadd doing it. I've always wondered about him, and he looks good. Maybe Will. But Freddie and Dennis, no way, man. There's no fitness program in the world that could get them ready this summer!" Cooter laughed. "And there's nothing to be done about `ugly' that deep, not even plastic surgery." "Eddie could do a caveman routine." It was good to have a laugh about all this, but it was starting to get pretty tense for both boys. They received a merciful distraction, however, early in the week of The Events. Benji showed up in Ditto's suite with a box of DVD cases. "Old family `home movies,' he commented, laying the box on the coffee table, "Thought you might like to see how your elders were when they were young and sexy." "If you were any hotter then, you could scramble eggs by stirring them with your dick," Cooter commented. "Oh, Deuce used to do that as part of his act. Men lined up to eat the eggs. Enjoy." And he was off to attend to his own duties. Cooter and Ditto looked at one another, both dubious and curious. "Shall we?" asked Ditto. "Up to you, man, they're your folks. Especially anything with your mom. Shit." That last said it all for Ditto's hesitancy. "I'll save those til last, and if we aren't too freaked by Deuce and Benji, we'll check them out later. Look, this is Deuce breaking Benji in. Dated his eighteenth birthday. Man, what a family tradition that is! Let's start there. It should have some clue as to what to expect Friday night." Cooter nodded, almost reverently. Ditto shut and locked his door to the hallway, an almost unheard-of thing in this very open household. He inserted the disc, and the two sat back to watch, side by side on the love-seat, feet propped on the table. "Oh, my god." That was all Cooter could say when the scene unfolded. The men on-screen looked so young. Ditto had known them then (he was eight), and he dimly remembered how they had looked. But at that time, there had been nothing sexual about them. These men on screen were extremely sexual. It even seemed clear that they loved one another. They started out clothed, and stripped together. Both young men were crew-cut, clean-shaven and un-tattooed, but had body hair, just barely trimmed. They danced apart, then together. Once naked, they began to touch one another familiarly. The men in the crowd encouraged them. Finally, Benji knelt and took Deuce's hard cock into his mouth and began to suck on it. Deuce sighed, smiling. "Shit, Ditto. Those are the two handsomest men I've ever seen, other than you. Deuce's body is absolutely perfect. And Benji—-the only word I can think of is `beautiful.'" "Yeah. I can think of `sexy,' `hot,' and `incredible.' "Those work, too. Ditto—I hope you don't mind me sayin'—you are the perfect blend of those two guys. Every bit as masculine and perfect as Deuce, but you have that special quality of Benji, too. I hope we get to look at your mom back then, too, because I wonder what you have of hers. Maybe a little of her eyes and mouth." "Don't get mushy on me, here, Bud. I'm still struggling with this, you know." "Like hell. Your dick is a steel beam. You see just as clear as I do what sexy men those are on the screen, relatives or not." It was true, and Ditto could not deny it—his parents turned him on big time, getting randy on the screen as younger men, just as they had done in the present as he watched them fucking (Cooter didn't know about that!) They continued to watch silently as Deuce pulled Benji up, turned him around, and began to fondle his asshole gently. This was nothing like the bull having his way with the heifer in the pen while excited men looked on in lust and admiration. It was tender, but energetic, lovemaking. Cooter stroked his cock involuntarily. Ditto was starting to drip. Cooter reached over to stroke his friend. Deuce slid his long cock into Benji's slickened ass, as the men in the crowd called out encouragement. He fucked Benji in several positions for about fifteen minutes. At last, he finished by ejaculating onto Benji's lower back, in gay-porn tradition, as the audience burst into enthusiastic applause. Grinning, he pointed to a man in the front row, and the man jumped up and ran forward excitedly. He licked up the cum off of Benji's back and butt as the audience clapped and hooted. "Oh, my god," said Cooter again. "Did you recognize him? That's Mr. Moore, Chadd's dad. Can you believe it?" The camera swept over the audience briefly to show the men, about forty of them, grinning, whistling, and clapping. Ditto's heart almost stopped when he recognized a few of them, but one in particular. He wasn't about to say anything. But Cooter noticed, too. "Oh, fuck." It was Cooter's dad, in the second row, leering and clapping. Next to him was Coach. Neither was wearing any pants, and both men's big erections waved. Cooter's dad gripped Coach's cock in his fist. This happened two days before graduation. The world of adult realities had rushed upon Ditto and Cooter very suddenly, and both young men had some serious reflecting to do about their families and their grown-up place in them. They spent the rest of that night in one another's arms, in Ditto's big bed. They had sex, as usual, and they made out, as they had recently begun to do—-but this time, they did the most serious talking together they'd ever done. Ditto had the advantage now, in that he was prepared for the things he saw on the screen. He got to be comforter to Cooter, who cried, for the first time in Ditto's presence. In a way, they had started that DVD that night as sexed up, hormonal, but naive boys. They woke the next morning as sexy, worldly-wise men, joined with a bond of love and common experience. The day of graduation, with the ceremony on the high school football field, came and went almost anticlimactically. Both boys received several honors, both athletic and academic, and both were the center of happy celebrations with family and friends. Under the surface, however, each felt it was small potatoes compared to what was going to be happening to them soon. But they were ready to begin.