Date: Fri, 6 Feb 2009 00:36:30 -0800 (PST)
From: Greg <fotogme11@yahoo.com>
Subject: Us Guys ch 22

Us Guys

By:  Photo Guy (fotogme11@yahoo.com)
Proofreader and Story Consultant:  Steve

The author copyrights this story, with permission for posting on the Nifty
Archive.  It may not be copied to another website without prior permission
from the author.

This is a fictional story ... any similarities to actual people, places,
events or other entities is purely coincidental.  The story involves gay
sex between family members and their friends, and is written solely for the
reading enjoyment of people who aren't offended by material of this type!
If you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where you live,
please leave now.

***

Chapter Twenty-two

(Chris continues ...)

Four whole days of fun lay ahead of us!  And I hoped they would pass every
bit as slowly as the last four days had.

While we didn't quite make it away from home by six-fifteen, it was close.
It is still hard for me to believe I was so wide-awake that Friday morning,
since it was dark out when we left the house.  Amazingly, the ranch was
already bustling at that early hour.  I'd have never guessed so many people
would actually be outside their houses before the sun came up, but quite a
few cowboys were already hurrying towards the barn where Roy had his
office.

Golden light was spilling from several windows in the ranch workers' homes,
as we slowly drove by them.  And I could make out a few forms in Robert and
the twins' bedroom, behind their thin, half-drawn curtain.  My cock began
to swell and a faint smile crossed my lips.

'Ryan wasn't the only one in our family, who was glad he was a boy,' I
thought, moving a hand to my lap and squeezing the rapidly inflating length
of hose against my right thigh.  "Too bad Robert's not in the Photography
Club," I commented to Tyler.

"Yeah," my boyfriend replied, glancing towards the Lopez home.  "I bet he's
not having much fun on the football team, this season."  Obviously, Tyler
was referring to the fact that Robert ... as well as our friends Luke and
Jared, and the rest of our high school team ... would be trying for only
their second win of the season, that evening.  It still wasn't too late for
a winning year, but time was running short.

"I can imagine how the coach is riding THEIR asses," Tyler laughed.  "And
not in a fun way!"

Laughing, I agreed.  While I didn't know the high school football coach
personally, I had played enough team sports to know how most coaches would
react in that situation.  And it sure wouldn't be any fun for the players!
We drove in silence for a minute or two.

Signs of the coming sunrise were all around us that morning.  While the
landscape outside our Suburban was still a mass of featureless shapes,
slowly but surely, the near objects were showing a little more detail.  And
the background had become dark gray in color, instead of pitch black.  A
large semicircle of light in the eastern sky showed where the sun would be
rising in the next half-hour, or so.

"I can't believe how excited I am about this trip," I stated, spreading my
legs some.  "I wasn't half this keyed-up when we left for Colorado back in
July.  And that was for a two-week vacation!"

"Well ... that's because you didn't know you were gonna meet me!" Tyler
exclaimed, and I could barely make out the cute smirk that was crossing his
lips.

"I MIGHT have been more excited back in July, if I'd known that," I
laughed.  Meeting Tyler WAS the best thing that had ever happened to me; a
fact my boyfriend knew well.

"It sure changed ALL our lives," Ben commented, reading my thoughts.

No doubt about it; it had.  Everybody in the car that morning had his own
stories to tell about stuff that had happened over the past three months.
I sure couldn't imagine my life, back in Missouri, without Tyler.  Well,
that's not quite true ... I could imagine it, but I didn't like what I saw!
So much had changed; I'd grown up so.

Tyler dropped his hand to my right knee, squeezing it for a moment, before
walking his fingers up the leg of my baggy shorts and stoking the smooth
skin of my thigh.

I moaned softly.

And as Tyler's hand got closer to my penis, it was like my cock head was
crying out ... demanding to be given the attention it so richly deserved.
But sadly, my brother didn't go further.  When Tim slowed the SUV to a stop
at the intersection with U.S. Highway 36, Tyler removed his hand.  Oh well
... there was always next time, I guess.

"Damn, there's sure a lot of traffic out, for so early in the morning," Dad
observed.  A steady stream of traffic was speeding by from the north.
Finally though, Dad was able to turn toward Boulder.  During a short break
in the line of cars, Tim stepped on the gas and the large vehicle leapt
forward, merging smoothly with the southbound traffic.  "I wonder if
they're going to work early," Dad speculated, "so they can get a head start
on the weekend."

"Could be," Ben agreed.  "Maybe we're not the only ones who'll be getting
away to the mountains this weekend.  I'll bet the aspens are turning like
crazy at the higher elevations."

"I hope so," Dad said, pausing slightly.  "It's sure nice to only be an
hour's drive from the mountains," he continued ... and I'm sure we all
agreed.  "Actually, Ben," Dad added, "this might seem weird ... but I'm
really glad I lived in a more ordinary part of the country for so many
years.  It sure makes me appreciate what we've got now."

"I know what you're saying, Tim," Ben laughed in reply.  "And compared to
Kansas, Missouri is a beautiful state!"  He glanced toward the back seat.
"Boys, I hope you never take what you've been given for granted."

As a kid growing up in Eastern Missouri, I can honestly say I never had any
desire to move away from where we lived.  Now that I'd tasted life in the
shadow of the Rockies, however, I loved it out here.  But I've come to
believe it's not so much the locale, but the people around you, that make a
spot a fun place to live.  And right now, I was enjoying the best of both!

Moments after pulling onto Highway 36 ... or at least, that's how it seemed
... we entered the city limits of Boulder and had to slow for a traffic
light.  While we were stopped, Dad and Ben discussed whether to pick up
Brad or Kenji first, deciding on Kenji.  By the time we arrived on his
street, it was getting quite a bit lighter outside.

The slight, Japanese-American freshman's parents were obviously well-off
... at least, based upon the appearance of their house.  Kenji lived in a
neighborhood of large homes, but there are many areas like that around
Boulder.  However, Kenji's two and a half story brick house ... one of
those with a dozen roof angles, or more ... had a real front yard, which
many of them don't.  A short circle drive ran in front of the imposing,
double front doors, while a spur led behind the house to a three or four
car garage.  Everything about the house seemed to say its owners had some
serious money ... or at least wanted to make it look like they did.  Except
for a light in the foyer, the house appeared to be completely dark inside.

"Why don't one of you boys run up to the door and knock?" Tim asked as he
brought our vehicle to a stop in front of the house, shutting down the
engine.  Then Dad laughed.  "I don't think this is the type of neighborhood
where you sit in the car and beep the horn!" ... not that he'd have done
that anywhere.

Tyler bounded up the couple of brick steps to the front porch, but before
he reached the door, a smiling Kenji pushed it open.

"Hey, Tyler," I heard Kenji say.  His straight, black hair shone almost
blue in the early morning light.

Tyler greeted the slim boy ... who looked younger than his fourteen years
... with a high-five.  And after the formalities were over, Kenji reached
back through the open door, grabbing a duffel bag, a camera case, a tripod
and a large sleeping bag.  He set them at the edge of the porch, before
flipping a light switch, and closing and locking the heavy door.

As he walked to the back of the Suburban and opened the doors to the
brimming cargo area, Ben called out 'hello' to our wiry, Oriental friend.
"I'm glad you aren't bringing any more stuff with you," Ben laughed,
finding spots for Kenji's items, "or we wouldn't have room for Brad's
things!"

Staring at the already-full cargo area, Kenji asked in an astonished voice,
"Are we REALLY gonna need all this?"

"I think so," Ben laughed as he closed the rear doors.

A smiling Kenji climbed through Tyler's open door, greeting Dad and me in
the process.

"How are you this morning, Kenji?" Tim asked as our friend slid across the
seat next to me, and Tyler took his earlier spot by the door.

"Awesome," Kenji answered.  He was as excited about the trip as Tyler and
me.

On the several minute drive to the part of town where Brad lived, we
learned a little more about Kenji's family.  He was the youngest of four,
and the only one who still lived at home.  His mom was a designer and his
dad an engineer with a high-tech firm in a northern suburb of Denver.
While both his parents and his two brothers had been born in Japan, Kenji
and his older sister didn't arrive on the scene until the family lived in
the San Francisco Bay area.  His folks had taken jobs in Austin, Texas
during the mid-nineties and had moved to Colorado just after the new
century began.

Kenji said he liked Colorado the best and he hoped his parents didn't move
again until after he graduated from High School.  Having just gone through
a move, both Tyler and I could understand why he said that ... though we
also agreed that moving isn't always a bad thing.

Brad lived in a more ordinary section of town, in a modest one-story frame
home with a two-car garage.  The garage doors were open revealing an SUV
and a lot of clutter.  And two additional cars, a fairly new, bronze Civic
and an aging navy Cavalier, filled the short driveway.  Also, an old,
silver Mazda pickup, with a banged-up left rear fender and broken
taillight, sat at the curb.  Obviously, this was a household with several
people of driving age.

The house was a beehive of activity that early Friday morning.  As we were
parking behind the Mazda, a young woman in a dark green and khaki business
suit came through the garage door and got into the Civic.  And at almost
the same time, a tall, dark-haired guy came out of the front door. He
looked a lot like an older version of Brad, dressed in sagging,
loose-fitting, blue jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt.

When he saw us, the guy yelled into the house.  "Brad ... get a move on
... they're here!"  His voice was a deep, rich baritone ... and the lanky
guy smiled at us as he ran behind the pickup and hopped into the driver's
seat of his truck.  Starting the pickup, the guy drove off in the opposite
direction from the Civic.

A couple of minutes passed with no sign of Brad.

"Chris, run up to the door and be sure Brad knows we're waiting for him,"
Tim said after glancing at his wristwatch.

Brad's mom answered the door, dressed in a white, nurse's uniform.  She
apologized for her son and said he'd be right out.  I returned to our truck
and relayed the news to Tim and Ben.  And a couple of minutes later
... well, maybe it was SEVERAL minutes later ... Brad finally appeared in
the doorway.  He was dressed in his typical slouchy t-shirt and jeans, and
was carrying his gear in two small bags ... one thrown over each shoulder.

"See you later, Mom," Brad called out.  And leaving the front door open
behind himself, he loped to our Suburban.

Again, Ben loaded the bags into the cargo area.

"Hey, dudes!" Brad exclaimed, in his typical, easy-going manner, through
the open back doors of the truck.  He made no comment whatsoever about
being late, but did ask where he should sit.

Ben laughed.  "Well, Brad ... it's going to be tight, but why don't you try
to squeeze into the back seat next to the coolers?"  But before Brad made
it to the curb side door, Kenji, who was quite a bit smaller, gave up his
seat and took the back position, instead.  Tyler scooted next to me,
leaving the spot by the door for Brad.

I had thought Dad was crazy for leaving the J bar A so early, but it had
taken longer than any of us expected to find both our friends' houses
... and especially, to get Brad.  It's sure a good thing we picked-up Kenji
first!  It was just after seven-thirty when we arrived at the District
Office, where the other two club members, Jenne and Marc, along with
Mrs. Jackson ... or Ann, as she wanted to be called ... were waiting.  They
were standing alongside a white, full-sized Ford van ... one of those
extended-length, fourteen passenger jobs ... next to a pile of gear,
including an acoustic guitar.  The school district name, along with a line
about excellence in education, was stenciled on each side and across the
back doors of the van in businesslike, black letters.  Someone had already
removed the rearmost seat for us.

Dad was VERY apologetic about being late.  You'd probably have to know my
father to understand why a few minutes would make any difference ... but
he's always prided himself on being punctual.  However with all the help we
had, everything was loaded into the cavernous interior of the van, or
secured to the roof rack, in no time flat.  We placed the four empty
coolers in the second seat and on the floor, next to where one of the
adults would ride.  And after a final check to be sure we hadn't forgotten
anything, the other five club members and I piled into the back two seats.
Mrs. Jackson got behind the wheel with Ben riding shotgun, while Dad took
the spot next to the coolers.

"Everybody buckle up," Ann instructed as she started the engine.

The drive to the highway took us past the high school, where a
late-arriving school bus was in the process of unloading.  A few students
who I recognized as always being among the last to arrive in the morning
... like Tyler and I usually were, ourselves ... were rushing toward the
building from the parking lot.  I suppose because adults were present,
there weren't many comments from the back seats about how unlucky those
kids were.  But several of us commented how fortunate WE were.

We stopped at a grocery store for food, drinks and plenty of ice for the
coolers.  And what with the Friday morning traffic, it was well after
nine-thirty when our fully packed van finally began to leave the western
suburbs of Denver behind.  Immediately, I-70 began to climb into the
mountains.

Mrs. Jackson wasn't a very fast driver.  Maybe the van wouldn't go any
faster; I don't know.  We kept to the slow lane, for the most part, and it
seemed like everyone was passing us.  I guess that DID give us more
opportunity to enjoy the scenery ... (Ben had been right about the trees
turning color.  Here and there, on the sides of the mountains, were patches
of bright yellow amid a forest of green.) ... but driving that slowly also
made for a very boring drive!

But ... Kenji had brought a couple decks of cards with him, and soon we had
a lively game of Texas hold 'em going.  At one point, after one of the many
times I was eliminated, I began to let my mind wander ... undressing the
guys with my imagination.

I didn't know Marc all that well; he was a quiet guy, and a sophomore, like
me.  Except Marc had a slim, "beanpole" type of body.  You know ... the
kind so many high school guys have.  He'd probably had a quick growth spurt
... and now his body was struggling with proportions, trying to fill out to
match his height.  Anyway, Marc had big hands and even bigger feet.  Maybe
that meant a big, cut dick too.  From what I'd noticed over the past couple
of weeks, he did seem to have a good-sized bulge between his legs ...

Now Kenji was harder for me to picture, since I'd never really been around
Asians, before.  But since his body was small and willowy ... he really
wasn't all that much taller than Ryan ... I figured Kenji would have a
smallish dick, probably uncut, with a few dark pubes.  Yeah ... that seemed
to fit Kenji to a T.

Finally, I tried to guess what Brad's body looked like under the skater's
clothes he always wore.  Did he have a smooth chest?  I guessed he would.
And since he had dark hair on his head with some straggly chin whiskers
... maybe just a touch of dark hair on his stomach.  If he didn't shave it,
that is ... and I didn't think Brad would.  I pictured Brad as being uncut,
too.  Yeah, definitely uncut ... and maybe about seven inches long.

Fuck!  I was getting hard just THINKING about those guys, and
unconsciously, I adjusted my package.

"I win!" Jenne called out, showing her cards, and bringing me back to
reality.  "Let's play again."

"That's six times in a row," Kenji said, shaking his head.  But he had a
smile on his face.  "Deal me out for this hand."  Everyone, except for
Jenne, agreed with Kenji, so we put the cards away for a while.

It seemed like we had been driving up the side of a mountain for an
eternity.  And as I was looking out the front window, I noticed a couple of
tunnels up ahead ... one for the eastbound and a second for the westbound
lanes.  It was the Eisenhower Tunnel complex ... the highest in the United
States.  We drove through the mountain for a couple of miles, and when we
finally came out on the western side, the road began to steeply descend.

Near the base of the mountain, we stopped for a fast-food lunch in the town
of Dillon.  And after we'd finished eating, everybody got out his or her
camera for a quick photo op at Dillon Reservoir.  Ben set up his camera on
a tripod, positioned us in front of the water, stepped into the frame and
remotely clicked the shutter.  Now, at least, there would be a record that
the Club had actually taken this trip, and we hadn't just skipped school!

After we piled back into the van, the three adults consulted Dad's Colorado
Atlas.  It seemed like we'd come to the point where a decision had to be
made on the route we would be taking.  I thought everything had been
decided at the last club meeting, but apparently that wasn't the case
... at least, not in the mind of our driver.  "I know your way is shorter,
Tim," Mrs. Jackson stated adamantly.  "But I still think it's a mistake."

"Ann ... I've seen trucks and motor homes on that road!" Dad exclaimed,
exasperated.

"I know, and that's what scares me!" she retorted.

While the six of us in the back seats didn't care which road we took, that
didn't mean we weren't interested in the argument the adults were having.
I think we were all enjoying it, some more than others.  And when our
snickering got a little too loud, Dad turned around and scowled at us
... me in particular.  Finally, Dad talked Mrs. Jackson into turning south
on Highway 91 ... IF there was snow on Copper Mountain.  And after a brief
return to the Interstate, we made a sweeping curve to the left.

"Guys, take a look at that!" Ben stated.

Suddenly, the most beautiful mountain I'd ever seen appeared right in front
of us.  At about the same time a road sign for the Copper Mountain Ski
Resort flashed by.  The top third of the mountain was blanketed in a light
covering of snow.  It was like a picture you see of mountains on a postcard
... or maybe in a book or hanging on a wall.

"I guess we turn south, here," Mrs. Jackson said, resignedly, as the exit
sign for Highway 91 appeared.  And true to her word, she exited the
highway.

Highway 91 was a wide, smooth two-lane road ... with a third passing lane
on the steep uphill segments ... so I didn't understand why she had a
problem with it.  After ten miles, or so, our driver gasped.

"That's beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"Did you know they were here, Tim?" Ben asked.

If the mountain from a few minutes ago had been beautiful, then these were
spectacular!  A ridge of mountains, several miles long, stretched out on
our left.  Again, they were lightly snow-covered.

"Yeah, I did," Dad admitted with a laugh.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mrs. Jackson questioned, slowing the van to a
crawl.  Fortunately, no one was behind us.

"I wanted it to be as much of a surprise to the rest of you, as it was to
me ... the first time I came this way," Tim answered.  "And I didn't want
everybody to be disappointed, if there wasn't any snow on the mountains."

"I want to get a picture!" Jenne called out.

"Don't worry, we're going to stop," Dad replied.  "Ann ... there's a
parking area on the left just before the lake."  Then Dad continued with
his earlier thought.  "The first time I came to Colorado to shoot the
aspens I took this road on a whim.  I guess it was serendipity ..."

Whatever.

It was an awesome scene ... no doubt about it.  The early afternoon sun was
bathing the mountains with light.  Not the perfect time of day for nature
photography, I've later learned, but not the worst time either.  At least
the snow-covered ridge wasn't in shadow.  The deep blue of the cloudless,
Colorado sky was reflected in the waters of a fair-sized alpine lake.

A light breeze was blowing from the west as we climbed out of the van and
collected our camera gear.

"Everybody ... have fun shooting this.  Wander around; look for interesting
foregrounds," Dad said.  "And above all, take LOTS of pictures!"  He
checked his watch.  "We'll meet back here in one hour."

There were a few other cars in the parking lot, but we didn't really see
any people except for a few fishermen on the far shore of the lake.  And
after we'd been shooting for a while, Tyler and I wandered away from the
rest of the group, down a lakeside trail.  A large area of ground cover,
that had turned red in the waning days of summer, carpeted a hillside to
our left ... and Tyler and I spent a while getting shots of the mountains
and lake with the red foreground.  Sweet!

When we were finished with those shots, Tyler glanced at his watch.  "I
guess we'd better be turning back."

"Yeah ... I suppose," I reluctantly replied.  "But, fuck ... it's a great
day to be outside!  I sure don't want to rush back."

"Me, either," Tyler agreed.

We didn't hurry back, but did turn around.  And a ways down the path, we
ran across Brad.  He'd taken off his shirt and tucked it into his
waistband, to soak up a few afternoon rays, I guess.  Brad was a sexy guy
wearing his usual loose-fitting t-shirt ... but he was REALLY hot without
it!  His medium-tanned torso was nicely toned above his low-slung jeans.  I
didn't notice any hair on his chest, so I'd been right about that.  And he
seemed to have a hard stomach, something that always catches my eye, too.
A thin line of dark hairs began at his belly button and disappeared under
the waistband of his boxers.  Hmmm ... I wasn't TOO far off there, either.

"Let me get a pic of you, Brad," I said, feeling a few signs of life from
my cock.  He struck several funny poses, with the mountains in the
background, while I clicked the shutter.  "Take off your shirt, Tyler.  And
let me get a shot of the two of you, together."  My dick was enjoying this
... a lot!

Tyler hammed it up as much, if not more, than Brad.  And moments later, I
took off my shirt and the three of us got a few shots of each other.  As we
alternated between being photographer or model, the three of us wandered
onto a spur trail that brought us closer to the lake.

"Hey ... watch where you're going!" a woman's voice exclaimed.

***

This looks like a good place to close chapter twenty-two.  I sure wish I
was out there with those guys!  The first time I drove to the location
where the Photo Club is going, I turned onto Highway 91 on a whim.  I was
as shocked and pleased as Ann, when I saw the Tenmile Ridge of mountains.
Okay, I admit it ... I'm reliving a couple of photography trips along with
the guys.  I hope I can convey the sense of it to each of you over the next
few chapters.  If you enjoy reading about it, I'd sure like to hear from
you! (fotogme11@yahoo.com)

If you would like to join the Yahoo! Group for my stories, you can do that
here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ill_suck_you/join.  And if you've never
read the earlier stories in this series, you might enjoy them.  They're
also in the Gay/Incest area of the Nifty Archive.

"I'll Suck You"  Final Post Date: June 25, 2007
"I've Got the Best Family"  Final Post Date: May 23, 2008

Have a great week, guys!  Greg