Date: Wed, 18 Jul 2007 14:04:05 -0400 From: Terry Subject: Brandon and Alex 27 The two title characters in this story are based on a couple guys that I once knew, however everything except their physical descriptions is purely fictional (and Brandon and Alex were not their real names either). So far as I know, these two boys never really did anything at all like what will be described in this story, in fact the boys the descriptions are based on did not even know each other. This story involves sexual situations between teen boys, so if you aren't supposed to be looking at things like this wherever you live or this makes you squeamish, please leave this story/site now and/or move to a place where things like this are acceptable. Likewise, if you aren't old enough to look at filth like this or are a card-carrying member of the Moral-Minority, please don't. I certainly can't control whether you do or not, but you have been warned. As always, I would like to thank my good friend, Mike Arram for being my editor and proof-reader on this story, as well as offering some really helpful assistance. I owe a debt of gratitude to one of my regular readers, Sam, who kept me from making a grievous error in this chapter due to one of his comments about how the last chapter related to something that happened earlier in the story. All rights are reserved, do not modify or redistribute this text without my express written consent, or I'll have the old gypsy woman that lives across the lake from me put a curse on you. She's taken a liking to me for some reason, but personally I think it's kind of creepy how she watches me with binoculars when I sit on my deck in my boxers to write these stories. Like the other stories I've written, this is set in a magical land where there are no STDs, so you won't be reading about condoms being used except in this disclaimer. This is not meant to imply that I am advocating the practice of unsafe sex, quite the opposite actually - please take precautions and protect yourself, there's a lot of shit out there that can kill you or make you wish you were dead. Comments and feedback are certainly welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net. I've really enjoyed hearing from everyone who has written, please keep on letting me know what you do and don't like. E-mail me for a complete list (with Nifty Archive links) of my previous stories should you care to do so. * * * Brandon and Alex Chapter Twenty Seven When we last left Brandon and Alex in the woods on Friday afternoon: "No way," Brandon whispered into Alex's ear. "I can't believe he's gay!" What other explanation could there be for him to be here in the woods having sex with this other boy though? And they were both clearly enjoying it as much as Brandon and Alex were enjoying the show. - - - Alex looked back over his shoulder and whispered back, "But you remember the day that we saw him at Paolo's house." Brandon remembered all too well. He recalled how Michael Price had loomed over them from behind as they watched Paolo being fucked by an older man next to his pool. They both also remembered comforting Michael as he slumped onto the bed between them after seeing the guy he had thought of as his boyfriend having sex with a stranger. They both also remembered Michael's tears, anger and disappointment. It seemed so long ago now, even though it was only a matter of a few weeks. "Yeah, but you know what Paolo told us... He said he was only blackmailing him..." Brandon hissed back. "You know Paolo was a liar," Alex whispered back. "I don't think he'd have known the truth if it were written across his forehead." All Brandon could do to reply to that was shrug his shoulders and nod. He certainly couldn't argue the point. Not that he wanted to anyway - he wanted to return his attention to the voyeuristic show they had inadvertently discovered in the woods, which is exactly what they both did. Still, in the back of his mind there was something, he could have sworn that this boy had said he was in love with Paolo, despite what Paolo had told them after Michael had left them swimming in Paolo's pool. Alex inched forward to get a better view of the two boys having sex on the picnic table in the old structure in the woods. As he did, his attention was focused on them rather than where he was stepping, and being slightly off the side of the path, his foot happened to come down on a long and brittle stick. As soon as Alex's weight was on it, the stick broke with a loud snap. Even though the two boys in front of them were obviously preoccupied, the sharp noise of the stick breaking did catch their attention. The sexual activity in front of Alex and Brandon suddenly ceased as the boy standing turned his head to look over his shoulder and the boy lying on the table craned his neck to look around him to see what had made the noise. When they did, they saw Brandon and Alex peering at them from around the edge of the old fireplace. Almost without thinking, Michael pulled out of Bobby and started toward the two boys who were watching them. Michael thought he recognized them, but was not quite sure from where. What he was sure of was that he didn't like that they had been spying on him and Bobby. When Alex saw him start toward them, he turned to run. His reaction was faster than Brandon's though, and he bumped into Brandon as he wasn't fast enough. This threw them both off balance, and they more or less tripped over each other, falling into a heap on the trail while trying to get away. Ordinarily Brandon and Alex might have found this comical and had a fit of giggling going on between them, but in this case they were both scrambling, trying to get up and make their getaway. Unfortunately for them, this was far less than effective as they were still more or less tripping over one another. They were still trying to get to their feet when Michael reached them, and grabbing one of each boy's arms, pulled them up. He turned the boys around toward the building and marched them back to it. When they entered, Bobby was sitting up on the table, his hands covering his groin. He was visibly upset. As Michael propelled the two naked boys ahead of him into the pavilion, Brandon and Alex were both trying to cover themselves as well, though the way Michael was gripping their arms, they each only had one hand available to do so. Michael pushed them down onto the picnic bench next to the table where Bobby was still sitting. Suddenly he remembered where it was that he knew these two boys from. They were the same two he had seen at Paolo's house the day he had caught Paolo having sex with the man by the pool. They had been spying on Paolo and the man he was having sex with then too. For a pair of voyeurs, they had seemed genuinely nice when he had talked to them then. - - - "So, what do you two just get off on watching other people have sex?" Michael asked them. Brandon and Alex both blushed deeply, remembering that day back at Paolo's house. It seemed so long ago now, even though it was only a matter of a few short weeks. They were both looking down at their hands, which were covering their now deflated penises. "You know them?" Bobby asked. "What do you mean about them watching people?" "The day you and I met," Michael told him, "when I caught Paolo being screwed by that guy by the pool at his house. These two were upstairs in his room watching them from the window." Bobby nodded his understanding, and looked at Brandon and Alex who were still sitting silently on the bench next to him. He remembered that Michael had told him about the two boys he had seen at Paolo's house that day. He had said they seemed really nice and that they had tried to comfort him after he had seen Paolo cheating on him. Then Bobby had another thought as he moved to pick up his clothes. He was finding himself uncomfortable being here naked like this now that these other two were there with him and Michael. That was when it hit him - they were wearing nothing but shoes. Where were the rest of their clothes? So after he had pulled his underwear and shorts back on, Bobby asked them... Brandon looked up at him sheepishly, "They're at our tent. We're camping out in the woods for the weekend." Alex looked up at him and added, "We really didn't expect to find anyone here, we've been coming out here for years, and just like the feeling of being naked outdoors. We've never seen anyone else doing it though, and we've never been caught doing it before, but there have been a couple close calls." "Well you have now," Michael put in, sarcastically. Bobby gave him a frown and said, "Be nice Michael." Michael took the rebuke from his boyfriend and following his lead, started putting his clothes back on as well. When Michael and Bobby had finished dressing, Michael refolded the blanket and returned it to its hiding place in the mailbox. Having done that, he walked to the far side of the pavilion and looked back expectantly at Bobby who was still standing by Brandon and Alex, staring at them, apparently lost in thought. The two younger boys were still sitting quietly on the bench. "Coming?" he asked. Bobby nodded and joined him. They walked away from the pavilion back toward Michael's house hand in hand. They were both disappointed that they had been interrupted and the mood broken, but there was nothing they could do about that now. After they had gone, Brandon looked over to Alex and suggested that they make their way back to their camp. Like Michael and Bobby, they were no longer in their earlier cheerful mood. They got up and walked off in the opposite direction Michael and Bobby had gone, heading back to the campsite behind their homes. * * * When Carson hung up the phone after the conversation with his mother, he rolled over and started rubbing Steven's stomach. "You ready to return the favor?" he asked. Carson had cum into Steven's ass before their nap, but now he was ready to be 'violated' himself. He threw back the sheet and saw that Steven was up and ready to do the deed so to speak. Steven reached under the pillow and pulled the little bottle of lube back out and handed it to Carson. Carson flipped it open and turned the bottle over, allowing the slippery gel to drip out over Steven's turgid member. He massaged it in, and as he did, if there was any flaccidity left in Steven's dick, it quickly disappeared. Then Carson lifted his knee over his lover so that he was straddling his body and reached around behind himself to smear some of the lube that still covered his fingers around his rear entrance. He brought his hand back around in front of him and squirted out a little more lube onto his fingers, then returned to the task of preparing himself to take Steven into him. Carson worked one, then two fingers into himself, spreading the lubricant around inside his body. When he felt he was ready, Carson grasped Steven's dick, holding it upright and sat back on top of it. It slid into him easily, disappearing quickly inside him. Once he felt Steven all the way in, Carson paused for a moment. Then, using his knees to piston himself up and down began a slow but steady fucking motion over his boyfriend. This position was enjoyable for them but was very tiring for Carson, so after a little more than five minutes he leaned down, embracing Steven and rolled them over so he was now lying on his back. Steven was amazed that they had managed to achieve this maneuver without a complete loss of penetration, but somehow they had. Steven took over the bulk of the effort at this point, and began a quick, almost rabbit-like motion in and out of his lover. They would not able to last much longer at the rate he was going. Carson's legs were pushed back to the point that his knees were nearly touching his shoulders. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but the pleasure he was getting from Steven reaming and ravishing his ass more than made up for it. Carson decided that he definitely liked this frontal position they were currently in the most, since it seemed to allow for a fuller, deeper penetration. He definitely found this more enjoyable as it gave that odd, away from the body curve of Steven's penis to rub against that spot inside him that brought him so much pleasure. Carson's dick was straining, he felt as if he were going to cum himself and he wasn't wrong. It was only a fraction of a second before Steven unleashed his load inside him that Carson began to spew his jizz over his own chest and stomach. Steven withdrew from Carson and the two lay next to each other in post-coital bliss. As they did, Steven reached down and scooped up some of the semen that Carson had discharged onto himself. First he brought his fingers up to Carson's mouth, feeding him some of his own seed, and then took the next bit for himself. Steven traded off between them until he had cleaned as much of Carson's sperm off of him as he was able to. Then he leaned over his boyfriend and licked up all he was able to that remained. Once finished, and still holding some of Carson's sperm in his mouth, he moved up for a kiss. After sharing the last of Carson's seed with him, he broke the kiss and backed away. "You know I hate it when you do that," Carson complained. "I thought that was only when I sucked you," Steven replied. "No," Carson told him. "When you kiss me, I only want to taste you." Steven finally understood what it was that his lover had against snowballing. He had complained about it often enough in the past, when they were only doing blowjobs with each other, but he had never really explained it though. It seemed to make some sense to him now. Steven and Carson snuggled up together, hugging each other and went to sleep. - - - When Carson woke up on Saturday morning he was in Steven's bed, alone. He was a bit confused about where he was at first, since he normally didn't sleep over at Steven's house. Then as he rubbed his eyes, he remembered the night of sex they had enjoyed into the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't difficult for him to recall the previous evening's activities as the smell of sex still hung heavily in the air. As Carson rolled out of bed, he found that the sheets were stuck to him from where Steven's cum had been slowly leaking out of him and had dried during the night as he slept, plus the little bit that Steven had missed on his front. Carson peeled the sheets off of him and got out of bed, making his way into Steven's bathroom. He could tell from the wet towel hanging by the shower and the bits of standing water in the basin as well as droplets remaining on the smoked glass shower doors that Steven must have already showered. Carson grabbed a fresh towel from the shelf above the toilet and started the shower running to get warm. He set the towel down on the back of the toilet as he sat down to 'do his business.' It didn't seem as messy as the last time after he'd had sex with Steven, but then he remembered the bedding, and made a mental note that they had better put the sheets in the washing machine. When he'd finished on the toilet, Carson got up and stepped into the shower. He spent a long time under the hot spray, and when he came out toweled himself off slowly. He used Steven's toothbrush, figuring that since they had swapped spit, as well as other bodily fluids so much lately that it didn't really matter. He ran Steven's comb through his hair, and when he was satisfied with the way he looked he walked back into the bedroom. Steven still wasn't there, so Carson borrowed a clean pair of boxers from his dresser and went to look for him. As he walked downstairs, stepping over the clothes they had discarded on their way through the house the night before, he smelled bacon cooking. Carson walked into the kitchen and saw Steven standing on the far side with his back to him. He was wearing an apron, and since it wasn't tied in the back, Carson could tell that the apron was all Steven was wearing. Carson padded quietly across the kitchen to Steven and while he reached his left hand around Steven to hold him as he gently kissed his neck, Carson's right hand went between his legs to tickle that special little treat tucked in the cleft between his cheeks. As his fingers touched Steven's slightly puffy entrance, it caused him to jump a little. Steven turned his head so that their lips could meet and they shared a long, deep kiss. When they broke, Steven said "The bacon is almost done. How do you want your eggs?" "Over medium please," Carson answered. Then he added, "I didn't know you could cook." "I am truly a man of mystery," Steven laughed. "I love your chef's outfit," Carson told him, giving him a little goose on the butt as he did. Steven picked up a spatula from the counter, turned and gave Carson a gentle whack on his butt with it. "Why don't you be a good boy and go change the linens on my bed and put the dirty ones in the washer? Then maybe later on today we can dirty up another set. You know where everything is, right?" "Yes baby. I know where everything is." On his way upstairs, Carson picked up their clothes and took them to Steven's room where he sorted them by whose they were, and then he dropped them on the floor next to the bed. He stripped off the sheets and after putting the fresh ones on, carried them downstairs and through the kitchen to the laundry room. After he started the washing machine, he came back into the kitchen where Steven was just putting their breakfasts on the table. After they ate, Carson suggested that perhaps he ought to run home and get a change of clothes. "No," Steven said. "You can wear some of mine. I thought it might be a nice day for us to ride our bikes down to the beach, and you know how it is, the sooner we get down there, the better. I want to get a good spot before everyone else gets there." "Sounds like a plan. I better phone my mom though; if I don't let her know I'm spending the day out, I'll be grounded for sure, especially after I didn't call until so late last night." "Go call her then," Steven told him. "Then we can get dressed and head to the beach. I want to spend some time in the sun before we soil my sheets again." "Sounds good to me," Carson said as he went to get his phone. Barbara accepted her son's plan to spend the day at the beach with his friend. She was looking forward to using the afternoon to get to know Dr. Henry Bloomfield a little better. She did tell him that she expected him at home to get ready for dinner no later than 5:30 that afternoon though. "No excuses," was the last thing she told him before they ended the call. * * * Bobby and Michael had been in a very quiet mood all through dinner the night before, and both retired to their bedrooms early. Even the next morning, something still didn't seem quite right to Michael's mother where the boys were concerned, even though they had both insisted nothing was wrong. They had both seemed happy enough the afternoon before when they left for their walk in the woods though. Bobby's excitement about going to their club to swim even seemed to have waned. It was the phone call while they were eating breakfast that seemed to perk him back up. One of the partners at his father's law firm wanted him to give swimming lessons to a young boy they had just taken in as a foster child. That someone thought enough of him to ask him to do this really seemed to perk him up, and he anxiously asked Michael if it would be alright for them to stop and pick the boy up on the way to the club for his first lesson. Michael looked askance at his mother when Bobby questioned him as to whether it would be okay, and seeing that this was obviously something very important to Bobby, she nodded that he should give his approval, which of course he did. Michelle Price didn't know what was going on between the boys, she thought that maybe they had a little lover's spat perhaps. Whatever it was had definitely happened while they were out walking in the woods the previous afternoon. She was just happy to see that their problem was starting to be over with now that Bobby had been offered this job. His excitement was contagious, and soon Michael was coming out of his funk as well. The boys offered to clean up the kitchen for Michelle after they had finished eating, and when they had cleared all the dishes away and started the dishwasher, Michael told his mother that they were going to go up to his room to watch a DVD movie. "Remember to leave your door open," Michael's mother reminded them. Michael shot her a look that would have said 'Aw Mom,' but verbally reassured her that they understood the rules. When she walked by the room a short time later, she heard a fit of giggling coming from Bobby and tucked her head in the door for a moment to see what was going on, fully expecting to see Michael tickling him. Instead she saw that they were watching one of Michael's favorite movies - 'Cannibal! The Musical.' The movie was based on Alfred Packer, who had been convicted of cannibalism in Colorado in 1874. (And oddly enough, the dining facility at the University of Colorado had ultimately been named after him.) The film was rather demented in Michelle Price's opinion (after all, who would do a musical of all things about a cannibal?), but her son liked it and his boyfriend obviously found it hilarious as well. She walked away down the hall shaking her head. She really could not understand how singing and dancing to a story about a cannibal could be so funny. 'Ah, youth,' she thought. 'It seems so sad that it's wasted on the young.' * * * At around ten o'clock Saturday morning Kyle's phone rang. He was out in the yard at the time, helping his father keep the yard in order. While his father trimmed the shrubbery along the front of the house and around the perimeter of the back yard, Kyle pushed a power mower, cutting the grass that surrounded their home. In Kyle's opinion the yard was easily large enough for at least a self-propelled mower, or better yet a riding mower. His father would hear nothing of the sort though. In fact, every time he brought the idea up, his father reminded him that he used to have to cut the lawn at his parents' home when he was Kyle's age using only an old fashioned push mower that did not even have a motor to drive the blades. And the way he described it, that yard was far larger. Kyle had no way to be sure though, as his grandparents had retired and moved to Florida years before he had begun to have to push the mower around the yard. Still, he didn't remember their yard being a large as the one at his parents' house. 'Yeah, and I'll bet you had to walk five miles to and from school in the snow, up hill both ways,' is what Kyle would think every time his father would tell that story. He never vocalized that thought though, he knew better. Kyle's phone was in the charger on the kitchen counter when it rang, and his mother, who couldn't stand to let a phone just ring, picked it up and answered it. She carried it outside, and waving it in the air to Kyle, got his attention. Kyle stopped the mower's engine and went to retrieve the phone from his mother. It was Doug. He wanted to know if Kyle wanted to go to the beach with him after lunch. That certainly sounded good to Kyle and he suggested that Doug ride his bike over and they could leave as soon as he was finished helping his father in the yard. Doug agreed to this plan, and said that he would be over after lunch. Once Kyle had made sure he remembered where he lived and how to get there, they ended the phone call. Doug waited until 11:30 to eat, wanting to make sure that he gave Kyle time to finish his chores and eat before he got to Kyle's house. As it turned out, when Doug arrived just after 12:30, Kyle was just finishing up cutting the grass in the front yard. He was attired only in a pair of gym shorts and old, battered tennis shoes. There was a thin sheen of sweat glistening on every bit of Kyle's visible skin, which Doug found extremely erotic. Doug leaned his bike against the fence that ran along the driveway and went to meet Kyle as he wheeled the now silent lawn mower toward the side of the house, on his way to put it in the storage shed in the back yard where it was normally kept. Doug really wanted to sneak a kiss with Kyle, but thought it probably wasn't a good idea here in Kyle's front yard. "Hey, how's it going?" Doug asked as he approached. "Not too bad, I suppose," Kyle answered. "This took a lot longer than I thought it would. I haven't even eaten yet, have you?" "Yeah, I did," Doug answered. "You want me to go back home and wait while you get ready?" "No," Kyle said. "Come on inside. I'll just take a quick shower and change. Then I'll grab something when we get to the beach, okay?" Doug smiled and accepted Kyle's suggestion. He was happy that Kyle was asking him inside, and was hoping that he'd get to watch as Kyle changed. Kyle's mother thwarted that plan though when she asked him to sit down with her for a few minutes while Kyle got ready. She did like to get to know all of Kyle's friends after all. Mrs. Praegler offered Doug something to eat, and seemed genuinely disappointed when he told her that he had eaten before he came over. Doug sat making small talk with Kyle's mother for about ten minutes before Kyle reappeared, wearing an old t-shirt, boardie shorts and tennis shoes (much newer and nicer than the ones he was using to work in the yard though). Kyle's mother got up, asking him what he wanted to eat for lunch as she moved toward the refrigerator. "Um, no Mom..." Kyle started. "I'll grab a gyro and fries at the beach. We're running late anyway, we really wanted to be out there a couple hours ago." She didn't seem to want to let them go without Kyle eating, but Kyle's mother relented and let them leave. Kyle brought his bike out of the garage and he and Doug pedaled off together toward the beach. When they got there, Kyle used his combination lock and chain to secure both their bicycles to the stand along with several others. Both boys had a backpack with them that had their towels and a change of clothes in them. Doug's backpack had an additional little surprise in it that he hoped he and Kyle would be able to make a little use of later though. They stopped at a hot dog shop so Kyle could get something to eat before walking down the boardwalk. After he had consumed three of the foot-long hot dogs with all the trimmings (except onions) and a large Coke, Kyle was ready to hit the beach. As they were heading out onto the sand, Kyle recognized a couple of people who he knew playing volleyball with a group of other teens on the beach... * * * Comments and feedback are welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net (I will /try/ to all answer e-mails sent to me, but please realize that my job requires me to travel a great deal, so it might take a while and I don't promise to answer every one), flamers will be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk. If you would like to be notified by e-mail when new chapters of my stories are posted, let me know, and I will add you to my notification list.