Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 23:59:09 EST From: Getrealguy@aol.com Subject: The Power - Part 19 (gay/incest, gay/sf-fantasy) The Power - Part 19 by GetRealGuy@aol.com Bob was at the wheel of, not just a car, but "Billy Junior", our very own. We didn't have it wrapped in a blanket, but it was our baby, and we were taking it from Rayburn's used car lot to its new home. After we turned off of the highway, and were headed down the road to town, Bob started to speed up. I watched the road straight ahead until I became aware that either my peripheral-vision was playing tricks on me or we were going way too fast. Things seemed to be zooming past the window on my side. I leaned toward Bob and glanced at the speedometer. It was as I suspected, if that speedometer was reading anywhere near what it was supposed to, we were hitting ninety. Apparently, Bob had acquired what is commonly called a lead-foot, and with it he held down the accelerator until we whizzed past a forty-five mph speed limit sign. He let up to about fifty, which was almost like coming to a stop. The momentum jerked me forward, unfortunately when my body stopped, my stomach kept on going. "Thank God you finally slowed down," my voice was pitched higher than usual because my stomach was in my mouth. "If you kept it up, I would have had to change my diaper." "Sah-ree," he said, apologetically. "I wanted to see what 'Junior' would do on this straightaway, with no cops around." "Well, I guess," I said, trying not to express either, approval or disapproval. Speeding was not my forte and I didn't want it to be his, but this wasn't the time to go there. I changed the subject quickly. "Are we going right home?" I asked calmly. "Yeah, I think we better," he answered, looking straight ahead. "Dad will be worried if we aren't there before him, besides, we have to get the skinny on the payments." "Forgot about that!" I said, swallowing hard. "Well, I didn't!" he snapped back, not mad but sounding concerned. "Not to worry! If things get that bad, I can sell the bod to raise some cash," I said jokingly. "Who to... Medical science?" he shot back. "Ouch! you got me!" I gasped. "Maybe, after I'm dead, but for now, I would rather continue enjoying a life of sex. I've always said that there is lots of cock out there that I would die for -- only an expression, not to be taken literally. And you? Hey, you act like you never nursed on one -- I've seen you give some mean head -- don't deny it!" "True, but I never charged for my services when I was down on my knees, like you. Besides that, I would rather fuck a nice tight ass, like yours, for free." He reached over and squeezed my leg. "Okay, pull over!" I yelled, expressing fake enthusiasm. "I'm yours, free of charge!" I couldn't pass up calling his bluff. His expression changed, the smile was gone. "There you go again. That's a stunt you would pull with Tony, but I like mine in bed, not at a curb side." He didn't say a word more. He turned slowly and, with one eye still on the road, looked over at me waiting for my reply. I was dumbfounded -- so much so that I couldn't speak for a second. "How you know?" I demanded. "Hey, I'm serious! You were there, weren't you?" He still didn't answer me. "You were using The Power... you were there at Tony's right after and then again in the truck!" "Okay, Okay! If you are into it that much, here's one for you. Dad caught you beating your meat last night." My mouth dropped open, "Damn! The Power!" I gasped. "Gotcha! The Power had nothing to do with it. Dad told me!" "Why! Why'd he do that?" I questioned. "It's a bit much but..." He drew a long breath before he started. "I got home about an hour or two before you. Mom must have gone to bed but Dad was flaked out on the couch, sawing logs. Careful not to wake him so he wouldn't know how late I came in; I snuck over, turned off the TV, and went upstairs." "Yeah! Go on!" I said, coaching him on -- there had to be more. "Well," he said, hesitating again. "He stopped by the room to see if I was home and in bed yet...and... I was in my bed all right...jacking off!" "Shh..itt!" I choked up with laughter. Bob was cracking up too. He almost ran off the road. "Get this! It didn't seem to surprise him. Later, as he was leaving to go to bed, he just casually mentioned that I wasn't the only one that he walked in on. He said that you were at it too, after dinner, after I had gone to Jill's." "Man! That's choice!" I could hardly hold back the laughter. "This, you are not going to believe! His exact words, when he caught me." I changed my voice to imitate Dad's, when he is in a casual mood, "Continue with what you are doing, I'll come back later." "You're joshing!" Surprised or astonished, don't know which, but Bob turned and looked at me with his mouth partly opened. "Hold on! Don't leave me just yet, there's more! Before he closed the door and left me alone, now get this, he complimented me on how pretty my dick was." "Fuck, man! Don't hose me -- you lie!" he yelled. "No lie! He did! His exact words; I swear." I changed my voice again, "You have a nice tool there!" "And, I guess," Bob retorted, "you are going to tell me that you just went on and finished up what you were doing?" "No way! It was such a downer that my tool, as Dad called it, backed up so fast into my body that I thought it was going to come out of my ass hole, along with my nads." "Yeah, I bet! But, you know," he said, as if he were thinking aloud, "Dad didn't seem embarrassed at all; catching you earlier must have broken him in. That made it easy for me; I just covered up as if it never happened. Dad acted the same way any guy would act if he walked in on another guy taking a piss and shaking it dry." "Did he think that you just wet you bed, or something?" I snickered. "No! get serious. He acted like everything was normal and sat on your bed while he told me the same thing that he told you. He mentioned that he had his heart set on the BMW and that Rayburn had pointed out our Toyota." I was glad that we both could take it so lightly. Dad deserved the credit for handling it the way he did; still, it must have been somewhat of a shock to him. After all, it isn't every day that a father catches both of his sons masturbating, only hours apart. Relieved, I decided to kid Bob along. "Shame!" I said, sounding as if I were scolding him, "Jerking off, that's a naughty! Didn't anyone tell you that doing that will make you go crazy?" "Yeah, go blind and grow hair in the palm of your hand, too! Oldie!" he said, coming back at me. "Oldie? Maybe! But when I pulled it on Jack, 'The Beanstalk', you should have seen him drop his books to check the palm of his hand." That got a smile out of him. He flung one back at me. "How about the one where the mother is outside the bathroom door and hears the son beating off." She yells, "Don't you know that what you are doing in there will kill you?" The son yells back, "I don't care if I do die, do die, do die, do die!" "Yeah, and I suppose she heard him yell": "Dear Lord, open up those pearly gates, I'm on my way. I'm coming, dear Lord! Get the coffin ready Mom! Ahhh!... I just committed suicide!" Bob chuckled at my continuation to his joke. As we got closer to home, Bob slowed up to a respectable speed. Tony's truck was parked on the street in front of the house. Bob pulled ahead of it and backed into the spot in front of the truck. "Well, what's you think?" he asked. "I think, I think that I haven't had a chance to drive yet." "Do you want to take it around the block before we go in?" he held out the keys for me to take. "No, later. Let's go in and tell Mom about the car and find out how long before dinner." "You haven't even had a good look at what's under the hood!" he complained. "Had enough! I looked over your shoulder at the lot. I saw that poor little squirrel running in the exercise cage that makes this thing run." He failed to see the humor and pretended to be a little pissed at me for my lack of interest in such things. Without saying another word, he turned quickly, and crossed the front lawn on his way to the house. When we walked in, Mom was just opening the oven door to check on the roast, or whatever smelled so good. "Where're Tony and Chad?" I asked. "Oh Chad! Nice boy. Hope you don't mind; he asked to use your bike," she continued to baste the roast without looking up. "He loves that bike, I saw him riding it early this morning and..." "Guess what, Mom!" I interrupted, "we..." "You got wheels! Is that how you say it?" she turned to us as she closed the oven door. "I was in on the plan. Where you have it parked?" she said, as she glanced toward the side window. "In front of Tony's truck, out on the street," Bob answered quickly, "left the driveway for..." Mom interrupted, "The BMW!" she was too quick for us. "I know about that too. He took me down to see it and I saw your car too." "When did all this happen?" I asked. "On Friday, while you guys were at school. Dad picked me up here at the house and we went to the Ritz for lunch. He told me about his boss retiring and about the promotion but it was mostly about the new car and what he had planned for you guys. He didn't need my permission for his big plans, but I gave it to him anyhow." She went to the window, brushed back the curtain with the back of her hand, and looked out, "where is he?" Bob answered, "Dad? Oh, he's on his way. He had a few details to work out." "Of course," she said, as if she suddenly remembered, "I told him to stop at the supermarket for something special for dessert." She turned and went back to the stove, "As soon as I get a chance, I'll be out to see the car. Take an apple, there on top of the refrigerator, to hold you over -- it's going to be awhile." "Where did you say Tony was?" I asked again, as I took a bite of the apple. "Tony is probably on the garage roof," she said as she dried her hands on the towel that she had been using. "He had some shingles leftover so he said he would do some repair there too." "Anything we can do, Mom!" Bob asked, as he grasped the apple that I held out for him. "Yes!" she answered quickly, "The two of you, get out of my kitchen and give me room!" Bob went to our car, as expected, and me, around back to the foot of the ladder leaning against the back of the garage. Tony must have heard me climbing up because as I looked over the top rung, I was looking straight into that beautiful smile of his -- my heart flipped. He reached over and placed his hand over mine as I grasped the ladder. "You by yourself?" he said softly. Seeing that I was alone, his grin became even broader. "I've been waiting for you. Come on over here," he clutched my wrist tightly and guided me from the ladder to a spot in front of him. He was squatting and his legs were spread in such a way that it was obvious that he was showing me his basket. As he looked into my eyes, he pulled my hand to the spot. "Feel it! it's like a rock, except burning hot. It's been like that since last night -- thinking of you." "You naughty boy," I said, as I grasped the bulge and gave it a few hard squeezes. "I wish I could do something about that." "You can," he said as he unsnapped one side of his bib-overalls, "there's plenty of room to put your hand in there. Go ahead; no one will see us here on the back of the roof." He didn't have any under shorts on so when I slipped my hand in, I took a firm hold of his big, thick, very hard erection. As soon as I could position myself so I could manipulate my hand, I started moving my fist slowly up and down the shaft. My heart was beating a mile-a-minute. I thought about how it felt to have that huge thing rubbing against my ass last night and the rush when it first entered me. I was getting excited just thinking about it and so was my cock. He was right, his was hard as a rock but much warmer than any rock I ever felt. I could actually feel his manhood responding to what I was doing with my hand. I moved in closer and pressed my body to his side as I looked up at him with my puppy dog eyes. It was a hot day, and especially hot on the roof. A curl of his black hair was stuck to the glistening moisture on his forehead. "Am I making you hot? You're sweating," I whispered, as I moved close enough to touch my tongue to the tip of his earlobe. "It really felt good, last night, when you pushed that big thing in me as far as it could go," I whispered, as I gave it a hard squeeze. "Making you hot?" "Hot? Not the word for it," he whispered back, "I'm about to boil over and scald your hand." Normally I wouldn't have been so aggressive, but this was a real macho man and he was asking me to seduce him. Since I was usually the passive one, with Tony at least, this new approach turned out to be a colossal turn on for me -- I could really get into it and play the part. "I bet your balls are sweaty too -- let me feel." I slipped my hand down to his balls. "Ah yes, they are. Too bad that I can't lick that sweat off with my soft wet tongue -- like this." I stuck out my tongue and moved it around in circles. While he was watching my tongue, I pulled my hand out and licked my thumb -- got it good and wet. "Now, pretend this is my tongue," I said as I stuck my hand back into the opening and gently stroked the side of one of his balls. "Feel it? Pretend my wet thumb is my tongue, licking your balls. That's my tongue working its way up to the knob." I ran my thumb around the ridge of the crown; it was sending shivers through his whole body. "I bet I could make you cum this way -- if I could run my tongue around the edge like this." I slipped my thumb around the back of his shaft and up to the little slot on the tip of the cap. "What is that I feel at the tip of my thumb? Are you leaking -- is that precum that I feel oozing out? I wish I could lap it up." My thumb slid over the slippery precum smearing it all over the smooth head. I was becoming worked up myself thinking of the taste of him. Up to then, I was groping myself through my Levi's and had reached the point where I couldn't hold out any longer. I slipped my hand under the waistband and grabbed my own. As confined as the movement was, I managed to fist it and started stroking. His cock was in my right hand and mine was in my left -- working both hands, the strokes worked into perfect sync with each other. Tony was breathing hard and his body was quivering with pleasure. "Jerk me off," he pleaded. I speeded up the strokes. He started moaning. The moans became louder and then when he realized it, he tried to stifle them, but all in vain -- he couldn't hold back. Suddenly he gave up and let out a long low moan as his whole body stiffened up. My hand was capped over the helmet and he shot what seemed to be a gallon of cum into the palm of my hand. I quickly, but carefully, pulled my hand out of the opening in his overalls and cupped it over my mouth. There was so much of it that it was oozing out between my fingers. I lapped the wonderful stuff from my palm. The excitement from the smell and taste of it became so exaggerated that it brought me to the brink of a climax. I pounded hard and fast and in seconds, my body stiffened up. Hoping that I wasn't too late, I squeezed hard to keep myself at the peek, riding that crest as long as I could. Unable to fight it any longer, I was forced to let it go. I shot my load in spurts -- spurt one, spurt two, and at least one or two more. Watching intently until my convulsive display ended, Tony reached deep in his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and offered it to me. I motioned for him to use it first. At first, he hesitated, but finally he got the message and slipped the handkerchief under his bib and down. After a few seconds of movement under there, he pulled his arm out, still clutching the handkerchief. "I thought you came! Don't you need this?" I nodded yes, and took it from him. He watched the handkerchief slip past my waistband and into my crouch area. "There it stays. It's mine now!" I said. At the time, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it. I had all kinds of ideas with the things that one could do with such a souvenir. After a few days, when it became dried out, its aroma might give me a real rush when sniffed at the point of a climax. I didn't want Tony to think that I was weird so I told him I was damming up my load to keep it from seeping through. I breathed a long sigh and looked over at him. "Now that we finished up that important business, the real reason I came up here. I wanted to thank you for the sneaky that you pulled, getting my bike back to where it belonged. How in the heck did you pull it off without anyone seeing?" "Oh, that. Before I took the bike from the truck, I checked to see if anyone was in the kitchen. Your Mom was up and I discovered that if she looked out the window, she would see me bringing the bike around." "Yeah, the window over the sink faces the back yard," I said. "I could see that. So, after I took the bike from the back of the truck I told Chad to ride it to the back and ride it around the yard a few times. Then, I told him, to park it near the garage wall where I had seen it before. That way, it would look like Chad trying out your bike. Chad did exactly what I asked. He doesn't have one of his own and seemed to enjoy the little ride he took around the yard. He loves that bike. When we finished up with the roof, he asked me if I would mind if he rode the bike around the block a few times. I told him to ask your Mom if it would be all right. My guess is that he's out riding it now." "Maybe I should thank Chad when he gets back," I said after listening to the story. "No, don't do that. Let's not overdo it. He has no idea of what his part in the crime was. I just said that you left it over at the ranch, that's all. Let me gather up my tools and let's get down." I went down the ladder and when I got to the ground, Tony followed. When he stepped off of the ladder, he picked up his heavy toolbox and started for the truck. I was right behind him with a few tools that weren't in the toolbox, apparently the tools that Chad had been using. When we got to the street, Tony noticed our Toyota parked in front of his truck. After he looked it over, he complimented us on our choice. He seemed very impressed. "Now there will be no excuse for not coming out to the ranch more often," he said smiling at me slyly. He enforced his remark by lightly brushing his crotch and watching for my reaction. I responded by licking my lips and opening my eyes wide to show my excitement. "Hey!" he said, as he smiled back, "Come help me with the ladder!" By the time we got the ladder down and on the truck, Dad had arrived. Chad, Dad, and Mom were standing outside near the BMW but Bob was nowhere to be seen. As Tony and I approached, Mom announced that dinner was almost ready. "Bill," she said, "If you have nothing better to do, you can go in and help your brother set the dinning room table -- wash your hands first!" It was as if she knew where my hands had been. I went in as Bob was just finishing up. I informed Mom that the table was set. She immediately assembled all of us in the dinning room and started dictating the seating arrangement. Dad was at the head, his usual place, with Mom at the other end. Tony and Chad were across the table from Bob and me -- with Tony at Dad's end and Chad near Mom. Chad was directly across from me so it was easy for me to observe his table manners, not knowing what to expect. I was impressed when, first thing, he picked up the napkin and put it on his lap; I don't even use one. He knew which fork to use and when it was time for seconds, he politely refused until he saw that I took another helping. Dad sat back and watched intently. After quickly glancing at everyone's plate, to make sure all had finished, his eyes focused on Mom to catch her attention. "Everyone ready for dessert?" Mom asked. She quickly scanned each of our faces, stopping at Chad, who was sitting next to her. "Chad," she whispered, "would you help me with dessert?" She reached for his hand and led him to the kitchen. Normally she would have asked one of us to help but her and Chad were real buddies by now. "Well, what's you think?" Bob said, turning to Dad. He normally didn't address him that way but Dad heard the lingo we used when speaking to each other so he knew how to respond. "I think, I think," he said, imitating us, "that we landed a couple of good deals. Rayburn must have the hots for you guys, that three hundred dollar discount was a big help." I could see Bob gasp as he looked at me -- it was as if he were asking if Dad knew. As Dad when on filling in more details, it became obvious that when he said Rayburn had the hots for us, it was a misused expression. Simply, we took it more literately than he meant it. I noticed that Dad's attention was diverted. He was looking straight ahead, toward the kitchen. Suddenly he broke into a smile. We turned to look. There coming through the doorway was Chad. He slowly shuffled forward with his head bowed so that he could look both forward and down. His face caught the reflected glow coming from a circle of little lights... candles? Eighteen of them, circling the top of... a birthday cake! Our Birthday wasn't for a few more days, that was why we were so surprised. From behind Chad, Mom started the Happy Birthday chorus. They all joined in, even Bob -- why not, he was singing it to me so I joined in singing it to him. He reached, under the table, for my hand and clutched it tightly. Chad sauntered forward as if he was being lead by the cake. He marched as if he were the little boy ring-barer at a wedding, except a pillow with the ring on it was the cake. We moved aside to allow him to place the cake between us. I was delighted to see that it was one of those "Baskin Robbins" ice cream cakes. We waited for the singing to subside before blowing out the candles. With the two of us blowing, needless to say, all flames were extinguished. Everyone clapped and Mom moved in quickly to remove the candles to do the cutting. After everyone had been served and Mom was back in her place and about to sit down, Dad looked across the table at her again and spoke up. "Honey, what's you think?" I was surprised with how he led Mom into her response, "I think... I think... we should do the rest now." Apparently, she had been listening to our gab and picked-up on it too. She turned to Chad, "Honey," she said, "I need your help again." Moments later, Chad was handing a bottle, with a cloth napkin wrapped around it, to Dad. I knew what it was immediately, champagne -- you don't treat ordinary wine like that. Bob's eyes bugged as he sat up straight in his chair. Mom set down the tray of glasses up at the end where Dad was to pour. The glasses were especially for champagne, they were used only on special occasions. I can only remember using them once before. We all cheered when Dad popped the cork. As he pored, Mom delivered the partly filled glasses to each one of us. When he got to Chad's glass, he looked down the table at Chad's eager face. "I hope that our guest down there is old enough." Chad answered, "I have been for years," he said proudly. Tony broke his silence, "I'll vouch for him." "I'm curious," I said to Chad, "how old are you?" "I just turned twenty last week," he stated, proudly. I looked at Bob only to find he was looking at me. I leaned over and whispered, "With the car, we don't need two bikes." I didn't have to say anymore, he was ahead of me. "Do it!" he mumbled. Dad tapped his glass with his fork and stood up, "Your attention please!" he cleared his throat. "I have a toast!" Here's to champagne, the drink divine, That makes us forget our troubles; It's made of a dollar's worth of wine, And three dollars worth of bubbles. We all stood and clicked our glasses. Dad raised his glass and, looking at Bob and me, he offered another toast. Here's to the day you guys came into this world! And as you slide down the banister of life, May the splinters never face the wrong way. "And that's not all!" Dad yelled to be heard through the clapping. Your Mom has something to say." He motioned for Mom to rise. She stood up, "I was hoping he wouldn't make me do this because I am not good at this sort of thing. He tried to convince me that I would be better at it than him, so here goes." She put her glass down on the table and looked directly at Bob and me. "We had planned something special for your graduations next year. But, because we wanted you to enjoy your senior year to the fullest, we decided to give you your graduation present on this momentous occasion, your birthdays... She looked to the other end of the table at Dad, "You tell them!" "Well, we decided that... Well, after I was convinced that you picked out the car that you wanted, and were satisfied with it, I made a deal with Rayburn. It was cash on the line, fully paid for, so we could give it to you guys now, out and out. I meant it when we were at the lot, and even though the deal was not fully closed, I said that you guys were the proud owners." Bob gave me a high-five and then Dad, as he jumped up and hugged him. I held my hand up, moved it toward Mom, she was fast to meet my hand with a high-five also. As I hugged her, I looked over her shoulder into Chad's smiling face. "Hold it!" I yelled. "I have something to say," everybody listened. "Bob and I got our birthday present early. The circumstances make it possible for us to give our new friend, his birthday gift, from us. It might be used, and late by a few days, but we give it with best wishes. We don't need two bikes in the family anymore so the one that you've were riding this afternoon is yours, Happy Birthday, Chad! Chad jumped up, so excited that he hugged us both. He pulled away and stretched to reach for his glass at his place at the table. "A toast!" he said, as he lifted his glass and waited for the rest of us to find ours. "Happy Birthday to Bill," he raised his glass to me. "And Happy Birthday to Bob," he did the same to Bob. "And... Happy Birthday to me!" He immediately put his glass to his lips and gulped the champagne that was left, down like water. He stood frozen for a second and then plopped down on his chair! It looked like he was about to bawl. Dad picked up the champagne bottle and tipped it to its side. "This is empty too," he said, "I have another one in the refrigerator but if you guys," he looked at Bob and me, "plan to take the car out, no more for you." Tony stood up. I looked over at him and realized that he had been left out of things. He waited for Dad to stand and shook his hand while he thanked both him and Mom for dinner. I was close enough to hear him apologize for him and Chad having to leave so soon. He explained to Dad that he had a big day tomorrow and he had to let a maintenance crew in the school building early in the morning. I don't think that Tony meant to bring it up just then but he mentioned that Chad wasn't use to champagne and since he was part Indian... meaning that it was a good thing that Dad didn't open the other bottle. "Come on, let's go to the study," Dad said to Tony, "I'll write the check for the roof repair and then we can think about opening that other bottle, for us, or would you like something else?" Tony didn't answer. He followed Dad to the study. Chad wasn't with it but he wasn't out of it either. Bob moved in where Tony was sitting and leaned over to talk to him. "You okay Chad?" Bob must have overheard that Chad was part Indian too and thought that the champagne may have done him in. "Yeah," he said, coming alive, "I'm okay. I was just sitting here thinking how great you guys are. I have to do something for you... for giving me the bike." "The bike is a birthday present; to you! We have a car now and won't be needing it. You owe us nothing," I told him. Mom stood watching for a moment and started clearing the table. I picked up a glass or two and followed her into the kitchen. "Do you think he is alright," Mom asked, acting concerned. "Sure Mom, the little bit of champagne that we had shouldn't hurt anyone," I assured her. "Yeah, Dad knew that but he didn't plan on Chad riding a bike home, way out where he lives." "That's not a problem, we can put the bike in the back of Tony's truck, and he can drop it by later. Bob and I were planning to go out anyhow so we can take Chad with us and drop him home." "He would like that," Mom said. "And Bill, that was a nice thing that you did." "Thanks Mom, I'll tell Bob, it was both of us. Can I help with the dishes?" "No, get out of here. I know that you guys are anxious to get in that car." "We'll leave it to you to tell Tony we put the bike in his truck, okay?" "Sure, and be careful... and Bill... Happy Birthday!" "Thanks Mom, were out of here!" I let Bob drive and Chad ride shotgun while I tried to stretch out in the back seat -- no way! "Not much room between the seats, back here," I remarked to Bob, "Those Japanese are smaller than us so they can get by with this. With my knees pushed up against my chest like this, so I can fit back here, I could almost do myself." "Don't you wish?" Bob yelled back, Chad chuckled. Bob turned to him as he turned the ignition key, "You will have to give me directions." "Sure," Chad said, "out to the highway!" I leaned forward over and moved in close to the back of the passenger seat where Chad was. "You feel alright, Chad? That champagne can get too you. Are you sure you're alright?" "Yeah," he answered, "but I was feeling a little oozy for a minute there. It wasn't the little bit that we had, it was those tiny little bubbles that started popping in my head, like the start of those Lawrence Welk reruns on TV." "Yeah, It effects me that way when I drink too much of it," Bob confessed. "I've heard that it can give you the worst hangover." "I overheard Tony tell Dad that you are part Indian," I said to Chad. "Yeah, I am, and Indians are not supposed to be able to handle their liquor, maybe that's me, never had the strong stuff. This afternoon was the first time I had champagne, never again unless it's a special occasion, it's too expensive for my taste." "Yeah, and for us too," I added. "I drink beer once and awhile," he continued, "but I don't drink too much because it makes me horny and I spring a boner!" He let out a slight giggle. "Cool! You have a girl to use the woody on? I asked, anxiously. "No, me and Jake play around. "Who's Jake? I asked, with renewed interest. "Oh, you know!" he said, acting somewhat shy. "What do you call yours? "And what is Jake's last name?" I asked, sounding serious... "Off? -- Jake Off?" I knew it was corny but Chad cracked-up. "I just call mine Cock!" I added. He giggled. "I guess that is a good name because that is what it is." "I call mine Godzilla," Bob joined in, pitching his voice lower than usual. "Cool, I get it! Because it's a giant monster, like mine," Chad said, and he giggled again. "Yeah, that's the word around," Bob informed him. "Those girls at school told you, didn't they?" Chad inquired, sounding bitter. "They got me in trouble. They were Seniors and they told me they were interested because of their biology class. I fell for it -- got me expelled, never did finish." "Yeah, we heard about that," I said, "But it was Tony that said that you had a big one." "Yeah, he saw it when we played strip poker once." "Was playing strip poker his idea?" I asked. "No, it was mine. We were playing regular poker and I ran out of chips. So, every time I lost, I took off something. I was loosing, big time, but I didn't mind. I like to get naked; it turns me on." "And does Tony get naked too," I asked, being more than just curious. "Oh, no. He just likes to look at me. He's a good guy! He's my boss. He pays me when I help out at the ranch." "Is that all the income that you have coming in?" Bob asked, as he quickly glanced in his direction. "No, I have a regular job. I am night watchman at the lumberyard. I live there, that is where we are going. It's just ahead, see the sign?" We pulled up in front of to what looked to be an office for the lumberyard. Later, when we were inside, Chad explained that it was once the office but as business grew, they built a bigger building up closer to the highway. He was hired as night watchman and given the structure to live in. I looked around when we got inside. It still looked somewhat like an office. It had its own bathroom and even had a stall shower. Taking up much of the room was, what must have been, the original desk. It was somewhat beat-up, but now Chad was using it as a table. He did his dishes in the bathroom sink but he did have a microwave to do the cooking, and near the bookcase, there was one of those beverage refrigerators to keep his food in. On top of the bookcase, there was a small TV, probably black and white. No bed, as far as I could see, but there was a studio couch that probably opened into a bed. All and all, not bad. I started looking at Chad in a different way when I saw how he lived and the way he thought. He was a heck of a lot smarter than most guys that finished high school and some that went on to college. "You guy's wanna play some poker, not strip, the regular kind," Chad asked. Why not strip, I thought. It would give me a chance to get a look at his "Jake" but Bob spoke up before I could complete the thought. "We better be moving on. On the way over, I noticed that we are almost on empty; I better stop by a pump and fill-up. Tell you what! I'll go get the refill and drop back. I want to go by Jill's anyhow. I have something important to tell her. Meanwhile, you two can get in a hand or two. I'll be back in about an hour." Bob jerked his head to one side, giving me the signal that he wanted to talk. I followed him to the door. "Set it up," he whispered. "Chad and 'Mary, The Raggedy Ann'. He's cherry like you were. Let's have have her break him in, in the back seat, while we watch -- live porn!" Bob left and Chad got out the chips and cards. "Real money or points with chips." "Neither," I said. "Let's play strip like you did with Tony." "I'm with it, if that's how you want it! Gotta warn you, I am boss at this." "I bet you are," I remarked casually, as I looked down at his crotch. "You deal, name the game," he said as he placed the deck in front of me. "Draw, five card, nothing wild, highest hand wins." I dealt out the cards. "Hit me for three." he mumbled, after glancing at his cards. He came up with a pair of Kings. My left shoe came off first. It went on like that with me loosing, like mad. I didn't mind loosing but I was down to just my jockeys and the only things he had lost, so far, were his shoes and socks. I wasn't being a good sport because if I lost the next hand, I would be naked and Chad would be the winner with some clothes on. That means the game would end and I would miss out seeing his "Jake". While he was dealing the cards, I thought about Bob, he should have been back by now. Also, Tony should have been here with the bike, by then. I wasn't worried too much about Tony because I figured Dad opened up that other bottle of champagne -- but Bob? that was a different story. Chad was dealing me my last card. "Listen!" he said suddenly, as he perked up his ears, "it's Tony with the bike." He placed the deck on the desk and rushed out, barefooted, to meet Tony. Tony lowered the bicycle from the bed of the truck down to Chad. I watched by poking my head around the half-opened door because I was bare-assed, except for my jockeys. After that, Tony counted out some bills into Chad's hand. Presumably, it was his pay for helping him with the roof. Before Tony left, he looked over and saw me. He gave me a quick wave before he climbed into the cab. Chad wheeled the bike into the room. After maneuvering it over to a spot in front of the bookcase, he kicked down the kickstand and looked over at me. "Tony apologized for not hanging but he had something to do early in the morning," he announced. "You smoke?" he asked, quickly changing the subject. His face lit up while he waited for my answer. "No," I replied, "Mom doesn't, and neither does Dad, so they don't allow it in the house. "No, I didn't mean tobacco. I got some super homegrown. I grow it out back, premo stuff!" he said, as he reached over the bike and removed one of the books from the bookshelf. He came over and placed it on the desk. When I saw it up close, it wasn't a book at all. It was a cigar box disguised to look like a thick book. I looked on as he opened the box. Inside, there were two small glass jars, the type baby food comes in, and a large supply of roll your own cigarette papers. I watched, with interest, as he skillfully held one of the papers in the fingers of one hand while he sprinkled the flaky looking stuff from one of the jars into the paper. After that, he wet the edge of the paper with one swipe of his tongue. I've seen cowboys on TV roll their own but never seen it live. I was amazed how skillfully he manipulated his fingers and rolled it. "Where did you learn to do that?" I asked, as I looked on. "My Grandfather," he replied, as he finished up by twisting the ends. "Not this stuff, but he smoked until he the day he died." He took a lighter, which I didn't notice before, from the box. I watched him light up, take a big drag, and hold it in his lungs. I watched him intently so I would be able to pull it off. I had heard, and read about it, but had never actually smoked a joint. He offered it to me -- it was my turn to perform. I did exactly as I saw him do but I almost fucked up. I didn't realize how strong and irritating it would be when I took my first drag. After the initial shock, I managed to stifle a cough that came from the back of my throat. Holding it, I didn't exhale, and did exactly what he was still doing, held my breath. "How did he die?" I asked, my voice sounding weird because I was still holding my breath. "Oh, he died when he was ninty-seven years old, top of a whore. Must have been the tobacco!" It was as if his lungs had burst and it all came out at once in laughter. I let go too, laughing. He immediately offered me another hit, I motioned for him to go ahead and partake. After I took the next two, or maybe three, or four hits, I heard a voice coming from nowhere... "Man, it's hot in here, mind if I take my clothes off?" I kind of recognized the voice as being my own. It was weird -- it sounded like it was coming from a recording or something. Is this what it's like to be wired? I thought; was that me that just said that? I didn't hear what I was thinking coming back at me as sound, so maybe I didn't damage my brain with that last hit. "Don't mind if I do!" Chad mumbled quickly, as if he was answering himself. "It's alright Jake," he whispered, as he looked down at his crotch, "Come out, come out, where ever you are. Don't be bashful; I want you to meet Bill, my good friend." My heart jumped, the time had come. He was standing above me and had slipped his T-shirt over his head. The poor guy was struggling, like mad, because he was hopelessly tangled up in it. "Hey, it's dark in here," he yelled in desperation. "Here, I'll help you," I shouted, thinking that he may not hear me, "I'll save you!" I got behind him, put my arms around his waist, and pulled him in close to me. He stopped struggling when I slipped both hands under his T-shirt and found both of his nipples -- first pinching and then twisting them. His pecs were warm and hard even though he wasn't struggling or purposely flexing. I slipped one of my hands out from under his shirt and grabbed his bicep, squeezing it, and feeling its hardness. He pulled it in tightly to his side, flexing it, and trapping my fingers. With not much help from me, he managed to slip the shirt over his head and free himself. "I can see at last," he yelled, as he took a breath of fresh air, "thought that I went blind." He looked around the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. "Look over there," he said as if he was in a dream, "my Birthday present! A bike given to me by a good friend, my best friend." He turned suddenly to me, "It's his birthday too. Let me give my best friend a kiss for the bike and his bir...." he didn't get it all out because his mouth was covering mine. I expected a friendly kiss, with tightly closed lips, but his powerful tongue forced its way into my mouth; I opened wide to welcome him in. He forced me down, on my back, with the couch under me. All at once, he had become a wild animal -- I loved it. I felt myself yielding to him. While his tongue was still in my mouth, I felt the weight of his body on mine. He lifted his smoothly muscled body away from mine as he slipped my under shorts down and completely off -- actually, if we had played one more hand, I would have lost and saved him the trouble. Automatically I raised my torso slightly, and then my legs, to make it easier for him. Then I felt it, the warmness of his body as we came in contact with each other again -- I was surprised that he was nude, how did that happen, what did I miss? It was then that I felt his Jake against me. I reached down and he backed away from my body so I could grab it and wrap my hand around it -- he had a hard on, no doubt about that. It was so thick that my thumb and fingers didn't meet. So this was Jake -- at last had it in my hand, and in the confined space, I moved it up and down like I was shaking hands. "Glad to meet you Jake. Let me introduce you to my booty." Man, I thought, this stuff is great. I'm really getting clever. To help out, I managed to spread my legs and raise up enough for him to slip one of the couch boaster pillows under my lower back -- that put me in the best position to receive him. Reaching out, I took it in my hand again and guided it to the target. When I was sure, by feel, that the barrow of his weapon was centered for a bull's eye, I removed my hand so he could score. There was pressure, but I didn't resist. The wind was knocked out of me for an instant but no more than that -- it was in. Both of us exhaled and them he maneuvered my body to a certain position, the purpose was not clear to me until I turned my head to the side and saw a full length mirror on the open bathroom door. It was positioned at the precise angle where we could get a perfect view. I wondered if he had worked that out before hand. Maybe he used that mirror to watch himself jerk off; no matter, it was going to be used for fucking now. The fucking started. I could tell right away that I wasn't his first. Maybe girls, or maybe just basic instinct. Not only was his cock shaped, big, fat, and round for fucking, but he knew exactly how to use it to the best advantage. He started out slow, I yielded to every inward plunge and grabbed at it with my inside muscles on the withdraw strokes. I managed to turn my head to the side to look in the mirror. I knew what it was all about when I caught his eye looking there too. It was reminiscent of the stunts that Bob and I pulled with the mirror on our closet door. He purposely pulled it almost all the way out to show me how long it was. Then, after he took a few deep plunges, he pulled it out completely to show it to me. Obviously, he was an exhibitionist, no different than you know who, and it was "Showtime". He proved to me that he was huge, for sure, but the point that he was demonstrating was that he was uncut and even hard, he could hood that head and then some. He moved the foreskin up so it covered the head, and back down again several times, proudly bragging -- without words. "Fuck me with that monster!" I shrieked. "Fuck me with that big thing." I was letting him know that I was more than just impressed with its size. I wanted it in me. "You like my big dick in your pussy? You like to be fucked like a little girl?" he bellowed, as he pushed it back in, causing me to let out a loud yelp. "Yeah, treat me like a little girl! Fuck me hard," I yelled to encourage him. That really excited him. He pounded me hard and I was screaming with pleasure. "I'm going to cum in you so you can have a baby," he groaned, breathing hard. "I'm going to make a baby." He was getting weird -- it scared the hell out of me. I was sent spinning with the feeling of Bob's presence, the same as I did at Tony's and in the truck. Bob was here; he was in the room. I looked into the mirror but the angle was wrong to see elsewhere in the room. I knew he was there, I could feel it. "Stop! Stop!" I yelled as I pulled away trying to get up. I yelled again as Jake popped out of me. My pucker pulsed in pain as he shot his load on the spot. "What! What-tah!" he yapped, trying to catch his breath. "What the fuck!" "Bob! Bob! He's here," I shrieked. "Where!" he stammered, as looked around the room, puzzled, and with a thick string of cum still hanging from his dick. "It was him," I screamed. I ran to the door and opened it. At that exact moment, there was a car speeding by on the highway. "That's him speeding away," I cried. Chad ran over to me and through his arms around me. We were both naked in full view of anyone passing by. "That wasn't him; you imagined it." He was in command and taking over. "It's not real, it's the pot. You're just stoned... now come back out of the doorway and chill out." "No, it was him. He saw us! let me go!" I pulled away from him, ran back into the room, and grabbed my clothes from the floor. "I have to go!" I shouted. "Where are you going? You can't go out there like that. Sit down and put your clothes on," he commanded. "By the time you get dressed, you'll forget it." I took his advice but I couldn't forget it. "Bob saw us having sex," I sobbed, "he hates me. That was him speeding away after he saw us." "The pot is making you paranoid, that's all. It does that to a lot of people," he said, trying to calm me down. "Now, why don't you crash on the couch, it will all go away. You'll feel super when you wake up." "No! No! I have to find Bob. I want to go home!" "We don't have wheels and it's too far to walk." "I'll thumb!" I ran out the door and started walking down the highway. Chad didn't follow because he didn't have any clothes on. "Come back and take the bike!" he yelled, sticking his head around the half-opened door. "No! No! The bike is yours!" I saw a car coming. When it got closer, I stuck my thumb out. To my surprise, the car skidded to a stop just ahead of me. It was some old geezer who was headed past the turnoff, so he let me out at the light. I crossed the highway and stood at the entrance to the road leading to town, with my thumb out. A car approached and stopped, I got in without knowing that the driver was Bob, until I looked over as I shut the door. "Bob! Bro!" I yelled, throwing my arms around him. "It's you! I saw you!" I started sobbing. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he said, sounding angry. "You're stoned! Chad told me all about it. He must think you are a nut, leaving that way... Man!" he groaned, sounding pissed at me. He took his eyes off of the road and looked at me for a second to observe my response. His anger quickly faded. "My fault," he said, as he reached over and pulled me close to him in a tight hug. "No! It's mine! Chad and me..." I whimpered, as I rested my head on his shoulder. "It isn't!" he said, pitying me. "When I went for gas, I ran out down the road right after leaving you and Chad and had to walk to the nearest station. The jerk off attendant took me back to the car with three gallons in a can -- cost me five bucks. That's why I'm so late. If I hadn't been late getting back..." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I sobbed. I moved in closer and rested my head on his shoulder. He talked, but I didn't hear a word he said; I was so happy to be with him. I closed my eyes thinking how nice it would be to be safe at home where I could crash. "Take me home and let me sleep with you tonight!" I pleaded, "I'm scared!" "Scared of what! I'm here, I'm here," he whispered as he reached over and stroked my hair, still keeping his eye on the road. "I'm scared you are going to hate me." He was silent for a moment. "Okay!" he said, looking straight ahead as a car coming from the other direction passed. "Sure you can sleep with me... why not? Dad saw us in bed together once and he caught each of us jerking off -- and we are still living. Why not... No reason why we can't sleep together tonight besides, I want to feel you beside me all night," he mumbled, softening up. Then he spoke loudly, "I want to hold you tight... because... because I love you Bro. I love you!" TO BE CONTINUED All comments are welcome (Please put "The Power" in title line.)