Date: Mon, 13 Aug 2001 19:36:05 EDT
From: Getrealguy@aol.com
Subject: The Power - Part 3 (gay/incest, gay/sf-fantasy)

This is a continuation of "The Power". This time the action takes
place at sea. Hope you like it and thanks again for the many
responses. Bill & Bob


                        THE POWER - PART 3
                       By GetRealGuy@aol.com

  This is a continuation of "The Power". This time the action takes
place at sea. Hope you like it and thanks again for the many
responses. Bill & Bob

  Bob and I looked forward to those summer family outings. Especially
the fishing trips. The Saturdays that we spent in the boat bought the
whole family closer together. With Bob and I in school, Mom with her
hands full with household chores, and Dad working his butt off all
week to support us, this was the kind of togetherness that we needed.
Sometimes, Bob and I carried this togetherness, between ourselves, to
extremes.

  With the rhythmic rowing, we would soon be out far enough to put up
the main sail and the jib to catch the wind. The rowing was always an
exercise that served to release the tensions that Dad built up on his
job during the week. Bob and I loved to match his endurance so we
would let him continue rowing until he became exhausted. We could
always tell how bad his week was by how hard and long he rowed.
Usually it was either Bob or me manning the other ore but when we
really wanted to give Dad a good match, we would both scoot under the
same ore. With Bob seated on the outside and me squeezed next to him
on the same ore that left some space on the seat for Dad. Bob and I
grasped the one ore while Dad had the other ore to himself. To be
successful in our rowing efforts, it was essential that the three of
us establish the same rhythm. We usually accomplished this with ease
but sometimes Bob and I liked to play around by using an uneven
cadence just to piss off Dad.

  With Bob and I on the same ore, body contact was inevitable. It
didn't take long before I started to receive messages from Bob through
our leg contact. The rhythm was slow and deliberate making the stroke
of the ore slow and long. With each stroke of the ore, Bobs leg would
rub mine. The rhythm was much slower than we used when we masturbated
together but for some reason it reminded me of that. Maybe it was
because we always matched each other's strokes as we watched each
other getting it on as we were doing now. I could feel the electricity
creeping from the place where our legs were rubbing, from there,
straight to my crouch. My cock started to tingle. It felt like all the
blood in my body was surging to the head of my dick. I panicked. "Oh
no, not now."

  Bob was breathing hard as he leaned over to me and whispered. "Tell
me when you are ready." Then he broke rhythm and started to row
harder. The faster cadence was out of control for Dad 'right on' for
us. Even my balls were getting the thrill of it as they rubbed the
seat under me. Faster and faster. I could feel that my dick was about
to burst through my Levi's and didn't want to attract Dad's attention
by checking it out. It was about then when Dad shouted.

  "What the heck are you guys doing, running a race or something?" He
sounded pissed.

  Bob almost had his tongue in my ear when he whispered, "Yeah,
racing to get us off." Giving up, he let out a sigh and slacked off on
the ore. Thank god! If he hadn't I would have shot my load. I looked
at him and he laughed, "Almost Bro, catch you later." A broad grin
crossed his beautifully tanned face as he took a deep breath. "To be
continued," whispering again but this time looking toward the bow.

  Man, that was nice, I thought to myself, he is really good at this.
I will have to learn how to do it. "For sure, man," I whispered back.

  About half an hour had passed, the sails were up, and catching a
swift, steady breeze. The distance between us and the shoreline was
rapidly increasing. Soon the dock was just a small dot on the
shoreline. In the other direction, out at sea, a distinguishable haze
was developing along the horizon giving early weather warnings to
anyone familiar with ways of the sea. Dad, seaworthy as he was, knew
that the condition was not worthy of immediate concern but it did
warrant monitoring for the next several hours. He turned toward us.
"We better anchor here. For once the old man may be right about the
storm. Looks like we only have a couple hours of fishing so this has
to be the spot."

  Bob and I both jumped on the bow deck and I helped him with the
anchor. Spontaneously, we all assumed our familiar places for fishing.
Dad was the only one with a rod and reel. The rest of us dropped in
our hand lines. Our hand lines were adequate for the bottom fishing
that we did.

  The water was still fairly calm. Dad was fishing off the bow
because he could cast from where he was standing. Mom, fishing off the
stern, got the first bite and managed to land a good-sized bass. We
all stood by to help her if she needed it. She loved to boast to her
female friends about how she landed 'the big one' so we allowed her to
get the material that she required for her story. Even the part
requiring her to take it off the hook which was a task that neither
Bob or I enjoyed. This time, Dad stumbled back to help her.

  Bob's line was over the side as was mine over the opposite side. As
I mentioned, Bob and I did most things as if we were one. Well, this
was one of those times. Apparently a school of fish decided to play
the game along with us and went for the bate on our lines at the same
time. At first I thought that our lines were tangled because the boat
had drifted slightly. Not the case. Bob pulled up his line with a fish
that was flopping, desperately to free itself. When I got mine near
the surface, I was surprised to see that I had two fish on the line.
That wasn't too usual in these waters. That is why I had bated several
hooks on the same line.

  Not thinking, in his excitement, Bob yelled, "A THREESOME!" Mom and
Dad couldn't help but hear Bob but they were so excited about the
catch that it just passed them by. Bob smiled at himself and wiped
over his mouth with his sleeve as if he were wiping the words away.

  As I looked over the catch so far, knowing that it may be all that
we take home, I was slightly disappointed that none of them were
baking size. Mom was a master chef when it came to the stuffing and
baking of the larger fish. Regardless of the size, there is nothing
quite like sitting down to a meal with fish, caught a few hours
before, as the main course. The very thought of it was making me
hungry. It seemed to be near noon so I suggested lunch. Dad was all
for it. Knowing Dad, about then he needed some food to soothe the
disappointment that he was suffering for not snagging one by now.

  "Yeah, good idea," was his reply. "Ma, what do you have in the
galley."

  Mom seemed like she was waiting for this moment. "Oh, wait to you
see," was her reply as a triumphant smile came over her face. She
loved the part of preparing meals for us and took special pride in the
'galley'.

  The food would have tasted just as good if she simply served it to
us on newspapers but Mom always insisted on serving it in plastic
plates along with knives, forks and even napkins. Mom fixed each of
our plates and passed them to us one by one. Bob had almost finished
half of his before I even got mine. We were all busy filling our
hungry stomachs so there was little conversation during the next
fifteen minutes or so. Then it was all over. Mom collected our plates
and placed them into a large plastic bag that she brought along for
the purpose.

  Slowly we moved back to the same spots that we occupied before
lunch. I ate too much which bought on that familiar sleepy feeling
that always came over me after a big meal. I was about to announce
that I was ready for a short nap, but Bob beat me too it by letting
out a big yawn. Then another followed by, "If you guys don't mind, I
am going to take a little nap." Not expecting or wanting an answer, he
worked his way to the forward deck where there was just enough room
for him to curl around the mask.

  I baited the hook on my hand line and leaned over the side of the
boat and allowed the line to slip through my fingers. The baited hook
and weight disappeared into the dark water. I looked over at Bob for a
moment. He was curled around the mask in a kind of fetal position. I
envied him and thought how great it would be if I could catch a few
minutes of sleep with him. Maybe the food, the fresh air or the
rhythmic rocking of the boat or I may have fallen asleep. None of this
would explain why my thoughts became so vivid that everything seemed
realer then real.

  I pictured myself laying with him. His body was curved around half
the mask in one direction and I was curved around it in the other
direction. His head was between my legs and mine between his. Both of
our navels were touching opposite sides of the mask and the mask
looked like a big erection looming up to the sky between us. As I
looked I wondered if maybe this was the position we were in while we
were in the womb. The hardness of the mask between us disappeared and
I felt the warmth of Bob's body next to mine. That warm sensation
moved to me on its way to my dick. At almost the same time I felt the
smoothness of Bob's hard dick rub against my lips. I opened my mouth
just enough to take in the tip of the head. I wrapped my hand around
it and pulled the foreskin up to meet my lips. Then my tongue searched
out the precum around the slit in the end. The taste was sensational.
It had a slightly salty taste but was almost sweet at the same time.
It also had a very slight tang to it making me want more. My tongue
tried to force its way into the slit to get more. My tongue seemed to
have a mind of its own. It them started a circling motion and finally
worked its way between the smooth cap and the foreskin. It forced its
way in and circled, pushing deeper until it felt the rim of the cap.
Then it circled, following the rim around and around. My lips gently
touched the tip of Bob's cock and then I engulfed the huge head into
my mouth. At the same instant I felt a gentle softness touch the tip
of my dick. I imagined that Bob, yes, he was -- Bob was doing the same
thing to me. I could feel his mouth slide up and down the shaft of my
dick and feel the head of my dick hit the back of his throat. Then
stroke after stroke. It seemed to go on for hours.

  Completely without any outward physical movement, I continued to
match each stroke by squeezing and then relaxing my pelvic muscles.
This is an exercise that I practiced nude in front of the mirror
whenever I could. I was so good at it that I could move my penis up
and down at will. I could even stand there and pump up the head of my
cock by using longer contractions. Obviously Bob could do the same
thing because he was doing it now along with me. I pumped the head
with the muscle control that I had developed at a size that was about
to make him gag. Then on a downward stroke he open the back muscles of
his throat and I could feel him take all of me. I did the same with
his and we just held it there, down as far as we could go. We both did
the penis exercises that we were so good at. Pumping the head, moving
it up and down and moving it side to side by throwing in some hip
movement. I wanted it to last forever, but that never cum, pardon the
pun, I meant to say came about. Besides the thrashing about with the
sex game that Bob and I were engrossed in, there was some real
movement.

  I was snapped back to reality when I heard Dad say, "We better get
the hell out of here while we can." All this time I had my head over
the side of the boat staring into the water. The boat was rocking
violently and it was the cold splash of a big wave hitting me in the
face that really bought me back. I knew that although I hadn't cum,
dam it, I could feel that my under shorts were saturated with precum.
I snuck a look at my crouch. My pants were pushed up into a tent. I
looked over at Dad. At that moment he was standing trying to keep his
balance.

  Without looking at me directly, he asked, "Did you get wet." He
must have seen the wave hit me in the face.

  Thinking fast, "Sure did, was a big one," meaning the wave of
course. I heard Bob snicker. Bob had a habit of picking up little
phrases and changing their meaning.

  "Oh, you're awake" Dad said turning toward Bob. Then he turned to
me and said, "Help him get the anchor up and I'll hoist the sails. We
better head for shore, while the wind is with us. The old man was
right." He looked up at the dark clouds forming overhead and with a
grumble in his voice he imitated the old Captain. "It's gonna be a
big-in."

  Taking advantage of Dad's interest in the darkening sky I assumed a
crouched position hoping that it would hide my still erect cock. I
fumbled my way toward Bob. When I got there I glanced down at Bob's
pants. Without anyone seeing his movements he pulled his jacket and
shirt up a few inches and there was the head of his hard dick trapped
between the top of his Levi's and his navel. He ran his forefinger on
the smooth surface which was shinny with precum. Then he took it up to
his mouth to meet his outstretched tongue. His tongue came to a sharp
point and circled the tip of his finger just as it had done previously
on the head of my dick. I took a quick look to see what was going on
behind me. Dad was still studying the sky and Mom was looking at the
shoreline in the other direction behind us.

  "I see that last big swell got you a little wet too," I said loud
enough for everyone to hear. Making sure that my back was turned so
that Mom or Dad couldn't see what I was about to do, I moved in close
to his face and whispered so only he could hear. "Also it is obvious
that 'The Power' got you too."

  "Yeah, sure did. Didn't finish me off either. What am I going to do
with this?" he whispered as he cupped the huge bulge in his lap.

  I almost laughed aloud. "Know the feeling guy. Play it cool and
hold on that. Long boring trip home and I just might need some
entertainment on the way." Man, I was blessed with a hell of a great
brother, but I always knew that.

  We got to the sure before the storm hit but Bob and I got soaked
before we got all the gear loaded back into the car. As we drove off
we could see the Captain waving to us. The rain on the roof of the car
was making such a racket that we couldn't hear what the Captain was
shouting. We already knew what it was. "It's gonna be a big-in."

  We had what was normally an hours drive ahead of us but with this
rain, it would surely take much longer. The wet clothes were
uncomfortable causing Bob to squirm. I hardly noticed my discomfort
because my mind was now focused on my newly found power. I thought to
myself, it might be fun to try it out here and now. I slid as far away
as I could from Bob to try my experiment.

  Bob sensed my movement and looked at me. Almost at the same time he
said, "I think I'll take this wet jacket off."

  Mom picked up with, "Yeah, you better." Then she turned to Dad and
said, "Turn on the heater before we catch a death of cold."

  With that Bob removed his jacket. I turned and looked at the rain
slapping against the side window next to me. When I turned back and
looked at Bob he had his jacket arranged across his knees. It had been
purposely placed in such a way that it blocked the view of everyone
except me and then only if I moved back against the seat headrest as
far as I could. His pants were unzipped just enough to allow his hard
dick to come through. Even with the maximum adjustment of his rear
view mirror only Bob's head would be visible to Dad. This was because
Bob had scooted so far down in the seat. In fact, most of him was on
the car floor. Mom, well as small as she was, she would have to stand
up to see anything. Feeling safe that he was out of view from everyone
but me, he continued his show just for my eyes. Without showing
movement in his upper arms, he started moving his fist up and down the
shaft of his hard cock. As I sat back in the seat to get a better view
and at the same time keeping my eye on Mom and Dad in the front seat I
was really getting hot. My cock sprung up so fast that it was like it
was on a spring. Something like the "Jack in the Box" toy that I got
on one of my very early Birthdays. I also felt more than a hard dick
in my pants. It was like a hand moving up and down my shaft matching
the same strokes that Bob was doing. This was like that first time
when Bob made me cum for the first time. Nevertheless, this time he
was jerking me off without even being near me. Right away I realized
that my powers had nothing to do with this. This was Bob, but I didn't
care. I just relaxed and enjoyed it. Man it felt so good. I started
moving my hips up off the seat to meet the downward strokes and back
down again with the upward strokes as I did that first time with Bob.
I could feel Bob's thumb stroking the split on the head testing for
precum. I looked down at Bob's face. His eyes were closed. He opened
his mouth and stuck out his tongue. It came to a point and circled
round and around. I could feel it. He was licking the precum from my
dick head. All the sudden, I had the same taste in my mouth as when we
were on the boat and I was licking his precum. Now I could feel his
tongue working its way down the shaft and then I felt his hot breath
on my balls. First he sucked one of my balls into his mouth and then I
could feel him struggling to get the other one in. My head was back
and my eyes were closed when Mom's voice abruptly invaded my
concentration.

  "Are you sleeping Bill?"

  Oh man, I forgot about Mom and Dad. At first I couldn't get it
together enough to answer her question. Was I sleeping? Was I sleeping
and dreaming that Bob was giving me head? How about in the boat. Was I
asleep and dreaming when I had sex with Bob then too? What is this
"Power" thing? Is it too just a great big dream?

  I broke my thought and eased out an answer for Mom. "No, not
sleeping, just relaxing and enjoying the ride." After I realized what
I said and how that I said it, I hoped that Bob wouldn't use my answer
for a lead to one of his catchy remarks. This time he didn't because,
guessing, he didn't want to bring unnecessary attention to himself.
The top of Mom's head popped up over the headrest. She turned toward
me with just her eyes showing. Without even noticing Bob, from her
point of observation she couldn't see him anyhow, she said to me.

  "You better get out of your wet jacket too."

  Bob snickered, "Yeah, go ahead get it off."

  OK man, let's get it off together, I sent as a thought back to him.
Bob read it. He smiled and nodded his head. Now I knew that he was in
tune with me. My "Power" was working and it would be easy from here
on. It was not a dream. "The Power" just makes it appear that way.

  I twisted and turned to remove my jacket and threw it over Bob's
lap along with his own to give him more cover. I knew that he wanted
to cum so I sat back and closed my eyes in heavy concentration. In my
mind I could see his hard cock sticking straight up, suck position.
With all the imagination that I could muster up, I placed my lips on
the tip of the swollen head. Then I opened my mouth just enough to
accommodate the huge head and then swallowed the complete shaft on one
downward thrust. I relaxed my throat muscles with his almost hair-free
pubic area on my chin. While his cock was deep in my throat, I relaxed
and then tightened my throat muscles repeatedly. I could feel the huge
cap swelling even larger than it was. He started the exercise
movements; man he was good at it. With both of us working together my
dick was feeling exactly the same thing that his was. It was almost
like sucking my self off. I often thought that it would be "something
else" to be able to suck your own dick but this was even better. It
felt so good having him that deep that I moved back up, swirled my
tongue round and round the head, and went all the way down again. I
had him in me so deep that I could actually feel the area around the
base swell as his balls drew up. He was ready alright. We were going
to finish up what we had started on the boat but not until I deep
throated him a few more times. I moved back up to the top again and
plunged all the way down, again, again, and again. Each time it hit
the back of my throat, a pulse was sent down to my cock that made it
jump. I felt myself jamming Bob's throat. Faster, faster. Suddenly he
let out an audible moan and started shooting his load. I gagged and
started swallowing as fast as I could and I shot with each swallow
that I took. I couldn't handle all of his cum. I gagged and coughed at
the same time trying to swallow it.

  The next thing that I heard was someone yelling, "What the heck is
going on back there." I opened my eyes and saw Dad peering at me
through his rear view mirror. They must have heard me gag and Bob let
out that loud moan.

  Thinking fast I said, "Oh Bob is here on the floor and I kicked him
by accident."

  Mom filled in with an excuse for my cough and gagging. With, "And
you young man sound like you are catching cold. I hope not."

  It was Bob's turn now. As expected, he came up with one of his
gems. "You Bozo, you did it on purpose, I'll get you back for that one
later." He smiled, simultaneously I felt his hand, still on my dick,
give it a hard squeeze. I smiled back.

  "OK guys stop that fighting, we are almost home," Dad commanded.

  Mom butted in with, "As soon as we get in the house I want you both
to go straight to your room, take off all of your clothes and put on
dry ones."

  "Sure Mom," we both answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Bob
quickly followed with, "But what about unloading the car?"

  "There's not that much, your father can do it" Mom said with the
voice of authority that she used when she wanted dad to do something,
"I am not worried about him," she continued, "he's been up here
staying warm next to the heater. I turn to look out of the window. It
had stopped raining and little beads of water were scooting around on
the glass. Minutes later, I recognized the neighborhood that we were
passing through. Shortly after that, I felt the car slow down as Dad
made a right turn into our driveway.

    In a flash we were out of the car and taking the steps to our
bedroom on the second floor two at a time. In seconds, our wet clothes
were mixed, laying in a pile on the floor. I reached out for Bob. His
hand stopped me.

  "Heck, there's no lock on the door. Get dressed and let's go into
the bathroom where we can lock the door."

  The bathroom was the only safe place when my parents were home.
Except for the times when Mom and Dad were out of the house and that
wasn't often enough, we did our sex things in the locked bathroom. To
this point, it was nothing more than watching each other masturbate
with no touching. As soon as we got there, I locked the bathroom door
behind us. We both got undressed. Bob turned and started pissing in
the toilet. I positioned myself so that I could see him holding and
aiming it. What a magnificent thing it was, I thought. Man, I can
hardly wait to see what it feels like to hold it for real, now, while
I am awake and "The Power" isn't in control. Better yet, what would it
feel like if I held it in my hand while he is pissing? I know what it
feels like when I am holding my own and feel the piss rushing inside
to escape out the end. Man, it would sure feel awesome if it was his
in my hand and he was pissing. At the time, I thought I was just
thinking about it but as I looked down at my hand I could see that it
was actually moving toward his shaft. My hand was not under my
control. Helplessly, I watch it slowly move toward its destination.
Then I became aware to the pounding of my heart. It had become so loud
in my ears that it almost masked out the other sound of pounding. It
was Dad rapping, no pounding, on the bathroom door. From the sound of
it, he wanted in.

  "You guys hurry up. I got it use the pot and besides, I have the
gear stowed so you great anglers have to clean the fish. That is, if
you want them for dinner."

  From the tone of his voice it was obvious that he was still pissed
because he didn't catch anything. Well, that put an end, temporarily
at least, to anything that we would have done that time. We put our
cloths on in record time. Bob exited first into the hallway and slowed
his pace waiting for me. Almost immediately Dad appeared in the
doorway apparently waiting for me to leave. Then giving up, in his
haste, he brushed past me as he reached through his open fly and
groped for his pecker. I lingered as long as I could without being too
obvious. What I had in mind was catching a glimpse of that so called
"eight-incher" that Bob said that Dad had. As I moved out into the
hallway, I turned back to take a quick look back into the bathroom.
Bob was standing a few feet from me still waiting and undoubtedly
sensing what I was up to. I think he was more concerned than me about
Dad noticing me looking. To get my attention and to prevent me from
becoming mesmerized from the sight, he grasped my shoulder and guided
me toward the staircase as if I was a mental patient.

  "Come on guy, let's get started on the fish." He was speaking out
for Dad's benefit. After a big smile he added, almost whispering, "Did
you see what you wanted to see? Now do you believe me?"

  "Heck no, man! If you hadn't pulled me away and given me a few more
seconds I could have seen a few more inches. He's not eight soft but
definitely over eight hard, for sure." In jest, I punched him on the
shoulder causing him to lose his balance enough to miss a few steps on
the stairs on our way down. He took it as humor and waited for me to
get close enough to reach out and poke me.

  Both of us were experts a cleaning fish. Somehow, we always ended
up with that task but we willingly accepted it as one of the necessary
chores of our fishing trips. We were always thankful when we didn't
come home empty handed without any fish to clean. This wasn't a big
catch but we could depend on Mom to practice her culinary magic on
whatever we brought home. This time it was a challenge for her because
it was growing late and she had three hungry men to feed.

  We were all seated at the dining room table finishing up the meal
that Mom had prepared in record time when the telephone rang. Dad left
the table to answer it. From my place at the table I could see into
the living room where the telephone sat on a small table. As Dad
picked up the receiver, he turned and looked toward us in the dinning
room. I could see from the sad expression at what he was hearing
wasn't good. His head was bowed down as he reentered the room.

  "What's wrong dear," Mom asked him sympathetically. She sensed that
something terrible had happened.

  "It's Tom. They called to tell me that he passed away Thursday
night and that the funeral is going to be tomorrow, Sunday at two in
the afternoon in Fredericksburg. Mom jumped up and held Dad. Dads head
slumped over her shoulder. Dad visited Tom several times during his
illness so it didn't come as a complete surprise. Tom was more than a
childhood buddy to Dad. He was also Dad's roommate through some of his
college days. I guess they were pretty close. "I have to go," dad said
solemnly."

  "I know, I know." Mom sympathetically patted him on the back. "I
want to go with you." He turned to Bob and I.

  "You guys don't have to go unless you want too."

  "Thank you 'Power' if you caused him to say that.  " No Dad, I
don't think...."

  Bob joined in. "I've never been to a funeral and I ... "

  "Never mind son." I could almost hear the tears in his voice. "They
said that they tried to get in touch with everyone that knew him right
away but didn't come across my name until sometime today. His brother
said, on the phone just now, that he had been trying to get in touch
with me all day."

  For the next hour Dad was really restless. I knew he had something
on his mind and it wouldn't be long before he would come out with it.
He went into the kitchen where Mom was and I could catch bits of the
conversation from where I was standing. They had decided to leave for
Fredericksburg right away and spend the night in a motel there. Good,
Dad was feeling better. The motel idea was so that Mom and Dad could
have a little motel fun. Good for them. When they passed it on to us,
we acted as nonchalant as we could. Within the next hour, Bob and I
were alone making plans for the night.

TO BE CONTINUED