Date: Fri, 4 Jul 2008 11:19:07 -0700 (PDT) From: adm2780 Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Fifteen All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a realistic level. If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is not the story for you. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between males, adult and minor. As such it is homoerotic, designed for the entertainment of mature adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral dilemmas, please exit now. NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and editing the chapters. Want to read a couple of good stories? Try "Never Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give". They are both excellent. Chapter Fifteen: Second Time Around Thursday, Christmas Eve morning, I woke to find myself pinned the same way as the previous morning. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, with a teen boy half-draped over each side of me. I always thought it was interesting how much a sleeping child looked so angelic; then they would awaken and spoil the whole image. Like the morning before, I kissed each boy on the forehead and wiggled my way out from under them. Backing off the bed, I didn't just kiss their cheek; I kissed and nibbled each cheek. When I kissed Frank's and nibbled, he giggled. I thought he was awake and just playing possum on me; I popped him on the butt which really got him laughing. I just got up and headed to the shower. The water had just reached the comfort point when I stepped under the shower, set the head to a massage pulse, and closed my eyes. I didn't hear the door open so much as felt the cool air hit me. When I opened my eyes, there stood Frank -- surprise, surprise. It was always interesting to look at Frank's expressions. This time it was a bit of a pleading look that said 'don't send me away'. When he realized I wasn't going to make him get out, the expression changed to 'what are you waiting for? Pamper me'. Stepping out of the way, the shower sprayed Frank. Frank stepped forward and allowed the water to land on top of his head and cascade down his young body. The water highlighted his youthful skin and the overhead light accentuated the cut of his adolescent muscles. I just stood there and admired him. After a couple of minutes I took his arm and guided him to turn around, and pulled him into me. Squeezing shampoo onto his head and shower gel over his shoulders, I began the pampering process. It only took him a moment to relax and lean back into me. He was worse than when he was a little boy. Sometimes you can't help but get a little mischievous with your boys. It felt good to have him leaning into me. The heat from his body was stimulating, the silky softness of his skin- erotic, and his smell - intoxicating. With the palm of each of my hands flat on his torso, I slowly moved them up and down. When I came back to his chest I moved them across and made a little circle over each nipple. I could hear his sharp intake of breath. When my hands reached the bottom of his torso, I allowed the second and third finger of my hands to follow the crevasse where thigh met torso, tracing it as far down and under as I could. Frank didn't even consider moving away from me. After I teased him a few times with my fingers, the next time down and under, I turned my fingers and used my nails to lightly scratch the side of his scrotum; sensitive young fella there. Moving my fingers away from the sensitive area, I traced a path back to his chest and flicked his nipples; then I allowed my thumbs to gently massage each nipple, ending with a light tweak that caused him to whimper. I had one horny young teen boy in my hands. I smiled to myself as I watched his face and traced another path down, and then around to his butt. As a little boy, he would giggle and kick his legs when I used the tips of my fingers to tickle his butt. He was still just as sensitive and did a little jig while he whimpered and reached back to lock his hands behind my neck. He was now sporting a hard one. "Daa-aad," he whined and giggled at the same time. He tried to turn his head, but I held him tight enough to prevent him from turning completely around and continued to tickle his butt. "Daa-ad! That's not fair. Stop!" I smiled at the way he tried to be so assertive and demanding, but it all came out wrong mixed with his laughter. There's something very special about a child's laughter that can just brighten up any day or any situation. "Stop, Dad. Look what you've done." He twisted to show me his no longer, quite so hard, boyhood. "I thought you were gonna let me get off." "I'm not stopping you. You're the one doing the little jig in the shower. Besides, haven't you learned that showing someone you love them doesn't always mean letting them 'get off' as you put it. Sometimes, it's letting them laugh with the person they're with." I gave him a solid love pop on the butt and let him know it was time to get out of the shower before we both turned into prunes. Besides, I was sure his grandmother had plenty of things to be done to prepare for the family Christmas and this was the last day to handle those last minute items. Also, I needed to go out and do some picking up myself. I got out of the shower; Frank didn't follow right behind me. * * * * Frank and I sat at the table with Mother, enjoying apple pancakes, when Michael came more or less stumbling into the kitchen. The smell of food must have awakened him, but he was still half asleep. I was proud of him; he remembered to put his pajama pants on before walking out; no shirt, but my boys had trained me to be thankful for small miracles. Mike sat in the chair next to his grandmother, folded his arms and lay his head on the table. Mother began rubbing is back. "Mother, does he do this every morning?" "Since we've been here," Frank answered, not waiting on his grandmother. "Now, Richard, he's not doing anything you didn't do when you were growing up." "Mother, there's no way you would have let me sit at the table without a shirt on or lay my head on the table. I can assure you he does not lay his head on the table at home during a meal." "I can remember when you were growing up, one of your favorite things was to lay on the sofa and put your head in my lap so I could rub your back. There were many times your father had to pick you up and carry you to your bed. You're right about laying his head on the table. Just remember, at the moment he's not home, he's here, and I'm exercising a grandparent's prerogative to spoil him. You can address the issues when you return home." Frank was trying, without much success, to suppress his laughter. Michael just looked up at me with his shit-eatin' grin. Mother just smiled and winked at me. There was no way I was going to win this one, so I just gave up and went with the flow. I sat there and watched Mother fix a plate of pancakes for Mike and just slide them in front of him. Every boy needs to be spoiled and pampered some and, remembering back to my childhood, I knew there was always something special about a grandmother's pampering. I think Mother was enjoying it just as much, if not more than, the boys. "Mother, do you need anything from the store? I have a feeling we may need to get it done early from the looks of those clouds moving in." "I don't know, but we can check everything as soon as we finish breakfast. If we want some home-made eggnog, I'll need a couple of things from the store. Do you have any errands to run?" "We have something to pick up at the mall. Also, I thought I might ride around and try to pick up a short-stack of firewood. Those clouds I'm seeing are supposed to be part of a cool front that's headed this way." "How cold's it supposed ta get?" Frank jumped into the conversation. "The weatherman said it could drop down to the upper thirties by tomorrow morning and the same thing tomorrow night; highs in the mid-fifties." "Dad! You're talking about building a fire for the mid-fifties?" My younger son sounded as though he thought I might have lost it. "No. I'm talking about building a fire in the evening, when it cools down. Even if it is cool in the mid-fifties, there will be enough people here, plus your grandmother cooking to warm the house. Now, suppose you two young gentlemen finish your breakfast and help your grandmother clean the dishes so we can get moving?" "Dishes?" Michael was listening, even though he was ready to go into shock. "Yes," I replied. "You know, like put them in the dishwasher? It's the same thing you do after every meal at home? I know your grandmother has been spoiling both of you, but guess whose turn it is to show some appreciation?" "Yours?" Michael's mischievous side decided to come out. "We've been good since we been here. Right, Grandma? We helped do the dishes every night and we've run the vacuum and dusted some." "You're bein' mighty generous with the 'we' routine aren't'cha, bud?" Frank decided it was time to push Mike's buttons. I decided it was time to stop this before anything got started. "Okay, you two. It's good to hear you haven't taken total advantage of your grandmother. Now, it's time for us all to pitch in. Let's go, poor mistreated sons of mine; up and at 'em." * * * * "Good God, Dad! Look at the parkin' lot. Where'd everybody come from?" The boys and I headed to the mall and then the store for Mother. I thought Mother could get a lot more accomplished without the extra help from her grandsons. At home, we always had the holiday buying and wrapping completed a week or more in advance. That way we could sit back and watch everyone else go crazy. We always made it a point not to take the boys near the mall the day before Christmas; too many idiots out running around. The boys were so engrossed watching the people running around that I felt like a babysitter trying to keep up with them. "Dad, look. Look at the people in that store. Everything's on sale and they're just pickin' stuff up, lookin' at it, and tossin' it back. Everything's all mixed up now. And those two ladies in there; man, they're about ta get into it over some of that stuff. It always like that around here?" "I couldn't tell you, Mike. I usually make it a rule not to go near a mall on Christmas Eve. This year, we didn't have a whole lot of choice. Just watch where you're walkin' and stick close. Okay?" When we entered the jewelry store, the saleslady spotted us and gave me the signal that she would be with us in a minute. She was waiting on a customer, so I let her know we weren't in any big hurry. I had read somewhere that jewelry was a popular gift among those who waited till the last minute to shop. We stood close, but out of the way, and became people watchers. About half of the people seemed to be running around like they were late for an appointment. In a way, I guess they were. For some reason I thought about the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland. People rushing around so fast just reacting to situations that they seemed to be taking two steps forward and one step back, going pretty much no where fast. Frank and Mike got bored with people watching and decided to do some window shopping while we waited. I noticed they had moved over to the area with diamond stud earrings and assumed they were looking at something for Mother. I hated to disappoint them and tell them Mother didn't have pierced ears. I doubt they had ever thought about a lady not having pierced ears. As animated as they were being, I assumed they found something of interest. Frank was still laughing when he rejoined me. "Hey, Dad. You see the earrings in that case? The diamond ones?" "Yes, I saw them. If you two are thinking about your grandmother, remember we already have a nice gift for her and she doesn't have pierced ears." Frank gave me a questioning look for a moment, and then, the light came on. "No, Dad; you don't understand. Mike's not lookin' for Grandma; Mike's lookin' for Mike. He's tryin' ta figure out how to ask you if he can have one." Frank grinned that mischievous grin of his that said he couldn't wait to see how this worked out. I just shook my head. Two months earlier, I probably would have been willing to shoot my older son for thinking about wearing an earring. An earring was outside the liberal attitude I was willing to show with my boys. After all the self-examination and conscious exploring I had done, particularly after spending a few days with David, I really didn't object that much. There were a lot of young men, and teens, walking around with an earring and they weren't the least bit offensive. When I was growing up, an earring was associated with street gangs, drugs, punks, and just about anything else negative you could think of. Times had changed; too bad I didn't find out about this before I had bought them their Christmas. "Mr. Geoghagan." The saleslady startled me out of my daydreaming. "Your packages are ready." Setting a large bag on the counter, the lady pulled out what was obviously a jewelry box and opened it. The box contained the bracelet with the boys' birthstones for Mother. The next package had the bracelet for Sean. I was thankful the lady had the foresight not to pull out the other two packages. We examined the items and approved them. The saleslady offered to wrap them for us, saying it would only take about ten minutes. We thanked her and accepted the offer. "Dad, Frank and me didn't get Grandma anything just from us. It's all real nice stuff from all of us. Can't we get her something just from us?" I understood how the boys felt and suggested they get her a bottle of Obsession. I wasn't really sure if Mother used that particular perfume, but I remembered a lot of the ladies in the office saying they liked it and I knew Mother would make a big deal out of it for the boys. They might have a gift pack that would include some powder which I told them was something ladies enjoyed. Mike wanted to know if it was like the baby power his mom used on them. I told him not quite, but the purpose was similar. They took off to buy perfume while I waited for the wrapped packages. I was tempted to get Mike the earring he wanted, but decided to wait and make that another special time for him. It didn't take long for me to be ready to make our last stop and go home for some peace and quiet. The grocery store was almost as bad as the mall. Walking around asking myself why people waited till the last minute, I realized that I was one of those people this year, planned or unplanned. It was interesting that Mother had given us a list of eight items she wanted. Why did we walk out with three grocery bags filled to the top? Okay, so I added a few things like cashews and Christmas candy; there was a big sale going on. Leaving the grocery, I spotted a couple of young fellas on the side of the road selling short-stacks of firewood. Bingo. My shopping was complete. * * * * Bonnie arrived with her husband, Bob, and son Eric about mid-afternoon. I was more than grateful, and so were my nerves. The boys were getting more excited the closer we got to night-time and the following morning. They were being royal pains. To make matters worse, we were in the process of pulling out Mother's good china and crystal. Mike and Frank were more interested in looking behind the dishes or in every nook and cranny where we might have hidden packages. The older those two boys got, the more they regressed. The way things were going, it was only a matter of time before I would hear something break. I was thrilled when Eric came in and distracted them. After luggage was carried in, I heard something about the hot tub and the boys were gone. Bonnie and I were in the dining room stretching the table and inserting leaves. Without the leaves, the table comfortably sat six. There would be nine for dinner. The trick here was to not set the ninth place until the last minute. Mother had the answer when she pulled out the table cloth and set the centerpiece and candles. The dishes were left stacked at one end of the table and the silver remained in the chest. When Mother returned to the kitchen, I finally managed to get my sister alone for a couple of minutes. "Did you bring everything?" "Of course. Eric and Bob don't know what's in the van, but they'll find out tomorrow; that's soon enough. Do you still plan on keeping Eric next week." "Unless you or Bob change my plans I do. Does Eric know?" "I'm sure he suspects something, but I haven't told him anything. Bob wasn't overly thrilled, but I told him to let the boy have fun with his cousins." Bob and I had always had a love-hate-indifferent kind of relationship. He couldn't decide if he loved me or hated me and seemed to vacillate at will. Bonnie thought most of it was because he would love to be able to accomplish some of the things I've managed to accomplish and make the money I have, and hates the fact that he just can't. I fully understood that he had neither the brains nor the fortitude to even try. That understanding is what allowed me to be indifferent towards him. However, I did try. It had begun to rain and there was a damp chill creeping into the house. "Hey, Bob!" I waited for him to at least acknowledge that he heard me. "There's a short stack of firewood just inside the garage door and a couple of cheater logs. How about a fire and I'll get us a little homemade eggnog?" He didn't say anything, but he did wave his hand as he headed towards the garage. "Rick, did the boys go to the hot tub?" Bonnie asked. "It's a little chilly outside; maybe I should go tell them to come inside." "You might want to think about that unless you don't mind embarrassing them." She caught on real fast. "You mean they might be wearing a little less than necessary to be presentable in the mall?" Bonnie was getting a good laugh now. "Did Mom tell them what you used to do? Skinny dipping in the hot tub?" "How'd you know?" "Are you kidding? My girl-friends used to come over and we would stand at that window over there and peek through the curtains. They'd stand there forever waiting for you to stand up. You'd put on quite a show for them, too. Didn't you ever notice how silly they acted around you at school? They carried around in their minds a full color picture of you, totally nude, that they could sit in class and drool over with no one being the wiser. Would you like to know some of the things you did out there in that tub that we got to see?" My sister, my own sister, had her friends over to the house to spy on me running around nude. She was grinning from ear to ear, and I was speechless! "No, I don't want to know any details, thank you. I can't believe that Mother let you get away with that." "She didn't. When she caught us we had to stop. She also told me I should confess to you what we'd done and apologize. So, consider it done." "Consider it done? Twenty-five years after the fact?" "You know the old saying. Better late than never." Bonnie was really enjoying herself. After suffering through my sister's revelations, I did get glasses of eggnog for Bob and myself: I also added a little extra spirit to each glass for medicinal purposes. We sat in front of the fire and exchanged small talk. The truth of the matter was that the only thing he and I had in common was my sister and Eric. How a great girl like my sister could hook up with a complete asshole and then produce a kid almost as fantastic as mine, I never understood. However, so long as Bonnie stood by him and he made her happy, I put forth the effort to at least try and be friends. Sitting there, talking with him, it was fairly easy to keep a good attitude. All I had to remember was how upset he would be if he knew his son was in the hot tub with my two sons wearing just his birthday suit. Bob would freak; absolutely freak! * * * * The boys finally went to bed, but only after threatening them umpteen dozen times to send all their presents back for a refund. That, and a threat to hang all three of them by their heels in the closet and lock the door. Knowing that three teenage boys would not be going to sleep any time soon, we put all three boys in my room with instructions to stay there under penalty of severe bodily harm. All three pranced down the hall making an 'ooooooo' sound to let us know they were really frightened. Bonnie watched Eric and I could tell from her expression that she enjoyed seeing him cut loose with Frank and Mike. If Eric tried that with Bob, his dad would have to show him who was boss; the asshole. Bonnie and Bob began unloading their van. The portrait the boys and I had made for Mother, plus the individual photos, had been shipped to Bonnie and made it to Mother's with no damage. Bonnie had even been nice enough to wrap them for us. Bonnie also had a few of my boys' gifts, mostly clothes. Mother had the toys and games. All of us managed to get the gifts arranged under the tree. I had heard of families with kids that made stacks of gifts for each child. The kids would come in Christmas morning and attack the presents. We always thought you missed out on too much under that system. When the kids were younger, there would be a couple of big gifts just sitting beside the tree for them to get excited over. We gathered around the tree and each person received one gift at a time, sometimes possibly two people at a time, and everyone enjoyed watching the others open their presents. There was nothing as magical as the look on a child's face with a special gift at Christmas. When everything was set, we all enjoyed a glass of eggnog, wished each other a Merry Christmas, and exchanged funny stories about when we were young or about the kids. That's what Christmas was about to us, the memories and the kids. When we finished our eggnog, it was time for us to hit the sack. There was no doubt the boys would have us up early and we could hardly wait. I told everyone that I had a couple more small packages in the rental for the boys and they could head on to bed; I would lock up. Besides, with the boys in my room, I was left with the hide-a-bed in Dad's study. That thing had to be forty years old, if not more, and I couldn't wait to see how my back felt in the morning. Retrieving the bag from the jewelry store, I pulled out the bracelet for Mother, but decided to leave Sean's gift in the car together with the boys. I also retrieved the gold chain necklaces I had for Frank and Mike. When I pulled out the necklaces, I spotted the gifts from David. The CD would definitely stay hidden. The vibrating dildo gave me some interesting ideas, but I didn't want to chance someone seeing it. Then there was that third package I wasn't to open until I had made the decision to teach the boys everything; 'everything' being underlined. I had decided that I would teach them, just not exactly when. Nor had I quite figured out how to approach the matter. It wasn't something where you could set a regular afternoon class. Opening the package, I was grateful, more than grateful, that I was alone. There was a note attached to the box: Rick: These are the tools my mentor used to teach me the pleasures that can be yours if only you are willing to set yourself free. Even though they are used, they should still function quite nicely. I hope they bring as many good times and pleasant memories to you and your sons as they brought to us. There's also a 'how-to' guide enclosed, just in case. (ha ha) Merry Christmas, Dave The box was actually a shoe box wrapped in brown grocery bag paper with Santas and snowmen drawn all over it. Okay, I wasn't even going to guess. Good thing, because when I opened the box all I could do, after recovering from the surprise, was laugh. Dave had given me a training set consisting of four dildos marked from one to four. One was the smallest, and four looked almost menacing. Combined with the vibrating dildo, somehow I could picture my sons in some petty crazy scenarios. Yep, this could get to be a very interesting holiday and New Year. End Chapter Fifteen To Be Continued Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com