Date: Thu, 27 Jan 2000 22:25:23 -0800 (PST) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: First Mate, Chap. 3 Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. It contains graphic descriptions of sex between and among young adult men, and anyone who finds this subject matter objectionable, or who is not of legal age in his or her political jurisdiction to read such material, must leave immediately. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the amusement and entertainment or readers. It may not be posted or reprinted in any other medium without the written consent of its author. Comments are always welcome. First Mate Chapter 3 The Party on Christmas Eve For years, in fact for as long as I could remember, my parents had a party on Chirstmas Eve. Everyone from the accounting office came, as did all of our friends. This year, with all the family home, the party would be even bigger and more festive than usual. After our crying jag, Rick and I showered and dressed. His clothes were designer label, but they weren't especially appropriate for this affair. He had a pair of khakis, which I ironed for him, and I lent him a nice shirt to wear. I wished he could wear the one he'd get from me the next morning, but that just wasn't possible. I didn't usually take cigarettes into the house. My parents both knew I smoked and had seen me smoking outside lots of times. But my mom just didn't want people smoking in her house. Period. Anyway, that night I knew I would want to smoke out on the patio, so I tucked a pack into my shirt pocket. WOW! When that hard box of Marlboros rubbed up against my left nipple, I started popping a woody. Rick noticed before we left the apartment and grabbed it. "See what I mean about the nipple rings being hardwired to your cock? It's those cigarettes. You better put 'em in your pants." He was right, and I did. I was wearing a pair of black Duck Heads, so there was plenty of room for them. Our house is large, as befits a family of two professionals who make half a million dollars a year between them. It was on the water side of Pirate's Cove Road, and it was really more like an old-time estate than a modern house. The garden (as we pretentiously called the yard) was beautifully landscaped, and my mom had hired a florist to decorate the outside of the house, and the inside, for Christmas. Rick and I entered through the side door, as usual, and went straight for the dining room. That's where the food was. We filled our plates with all the stuff there was to eat. My mom makes a wonderful dish called pickled shrimp, so we got several of those. And we got meatballs, cheese on crackers, a bunch of pickled vegetables, more cheese, more crackers, more stuff. My grandmother was installed in the living room, greeting guests. We went in and kissed her. She looked about as pretty as a seventy-five-year-old woman could look. She had picked up a tan on her recent trip, and she looked the picture of health. Nobody who didn't know would have thought she was a day over fifty. We said hello to my sisters and brothers-in-law. The kids were still up so people could see them, but Jared, my older sister's son, wasn't in a very good mood. I tickled him, and he laughed, but I could tell Jared wasn't yet a party animal. We made the rounds, and I introduced Rick to everyone as my uncle. Hell, I didn't know what else to say. When we were off to the side, he said, "What's this 'uncle' shit?" "Well, what the hell else are you?" "I'm your fucking lover, and you know it." He had an evil twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, man. Don't go there tonight." "Damn, Kevin, you are so fucking cute, I could rip those clothes off you and fuck you right here on the dining room table," he said. "Do you think, for one instant, I would ever embarrass you like that? Come on, man. Lighten up. Let's get a drink." The bar was set up in the breakfast room. We went in and ordered drinks. Chuck, the bartender, recognized me, and we shook hands. When I introduced Rick, I introduced him as my cousin from Key West. "Was that better," I asked? "Slightly," he said. He reached up and pinched my left tit. It didn't hurt, though. In fact, it made me start to bone up. "Oh, shit," Rick said. "Another public boner." I laughed and ignored the feeling in my groin. It went away in a few seconds. We mingled in the crowd, very much a couple. I introduced Rick as my best buddy to other people who were there. One guy, whom I strongly suspected of being gay, even though he was married to a church mouse, kind of raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything further. "Who's that guy over there," Rick asked. "That's my Uncle Stanley. The guy I told you about this afternoon. I assume the guy he's talking to is his date." "I know that guy. He's been on one of my cruises," Rick said. Suddenly it all came together. That's how Uncle Stan knew about Rick. "You want to go talk to him. He smokes, and I'm ready to go outside to have one. Maybe he'll go with us." "Sure. Remember, now, I probably fucked him. Or he fucked me. Or both." "Not today, he didn't," I said. Rick chuckled. "Uncle Stan! How the hell are you?" "Well, good God. Look who's turned into a man." He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. "This is dad's ex-step-brother, Rick." Stan looked at him as though he was supposed to know him. Suddenly a light went on. "Hi, Rick. I believe we actually know one another. But in an entirely different context." "We do, Stan. Good to see you, man. I honestly had no idea. Er, Kevin and I were just going to go outside to smoke. Would you like to join us?" "Very much so," Stan said. We stopped at the bar and got refills on our drinks, and then we went outside. "Stan," I said. "Er, do you mind if I just call you Stan, instead of Uncle Stan?" "I've wondered how the hell much longer the 'uncle' shit was going to go on. Of course, call me Stan. Unless you want me to call you Mr. Maxwell?" We all laughed. "Stan, I owe you more than I owe anybody else on this planet." "What are you talking about, Kevin?" I explained about that afternoon with Dad. "I know you made it all right with him. And I'll love you forever for it." "Well, you goddamn better love me forever, anyway, you little shithead." He ruffled my hair, as I knew he would. "You know what I mean." "Yeah, I do. And Kevin, I really do love you. Just as I love your sisters and your parents. You're my family. The son I never had. The children I never had." "Uncle Stan, you did more than help. You lifted the world off my shoulders." Stan took out a pack of cigarettes and offered them to us. "We've got some," Rick said, eyeing his Ultralight Kools distastefully. We each pulled out our packs and lit up. "Did you even know I smoked," I asked him. My parents had found out the previous summer when they popped into my apartment, unexpectedly. "Only since you were fifteen," he said. "Hell, that's when I started." "I know." "Do you know everything about me," I asked, rather incredulous about what he had already revealed. "No. I've never seen you hard. At least not yet. And I haven't seen those nipple rings you're wearing--yet." "Damn, Stan, you're a psychic," Rick said. "That was just a guess, actually. Christmas present from you, Rick?" "Yeah. Actually they were." "I approve." "You are so fucking cool," I said. He ignored my language. I was an adult now, I guessed. "Thanks, and you're about as cool as they get, yourself. By the way, congratulations on finishing high school. I have a little gift for you." He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to me. "Go ahead. I know you're curious. Open it." I did. It was a check for $10,000.00, payable to me. "Goddamn," I said. "You're welcome," he shot back. "No, I mean, goddamn, Uncle Stan, this is so much money." "Not to me," he said. He was playing this for all it was worth, and I loved the way he was doing it, just as I loved him. I leapt upon him, grabbing him around his torso, and kissed him on the lips. "Thank you sooooooooo much," I said. "Well, there's more, actually. On December 1st, I set up an account for you at Merrill Lynch with a half million dollars in it. It's in a mixture of mutual funds, stocks, money market certificates, and the like. It should pay fifty thousand a year. I did it then so your dad could sign for it. But it's now all yours, Mr. Man." My knees got weak. "What did you say?" "You heard me. If you manage it right, you won't ever have to work a day in your life." "I'm weak. I need to sit down." I walked over to some patio furniture, and the others followed me. "How do I say 'thank you' for that?" "You just did, my boy. My man, I mean. I did the same thing for your sisters. It's just what I do for Maxwell children." "Good God, Stan. What can I say?" "Well, you've already said 'thank you.' Maybe you could say, 'Can I freshen your drink for you.'" Rick jumped up and ran to the house for a new drink. "Uncle Stan..." "Kevin, your reaction couldn't have pleased me more. It is exactly what I had hoped it would be. As I said before, I consider you the son I never had, and I love you. You and Rick are a perfect match, and I really wish you all the best." I lit another cigarette. I was just blown away. "Rick and I are in love," I said. "I can tell." "Really?" "Yes, really. And he is a wonderful guy. I wish you two the very best together." "Uncle Stan..." "Stan," he corrected. "Stan, I'm really very choked up right now." For the fourth time in two days I started crying. Rick came back with fresh drinks for all of us. When he saw that I was crying, he said, "Fuck, is bladder-eyes at it again?" "Sit your ass down and let me tell you something. This boy is the best there is. Do you hear me? If you ever hurt him or do anything to make him genuinely unhappy, I'll ruin you." Stan's tone was that of a father talking to the bridegroom of an adored daughter. "I love this boy more than I can say, and I will protect him and look after him till the day I die." Then, after a brief pause, Rick spoke again. "Stan, I understand. You've got my hand on it." Rick and Stan shook hands. "Uncle Stan, you don't have to worry about me. Rick and I love one another, and that will take us through it all." "I genuinely hope so, Kevin. But, hey, this is Christmas. Let's party. I'll see you guys later. There are people in there dying for a piece of me. I've got fans, too, you know." Rick and I laughed on that exit line. When he was gone, Rick said, "Well, damn, babe, it sounds like you've got some money." "I know. I'm still weak." "Remember this, though, Kevin. I loved you when all you had was that car and a nice computer. And I love you now the same way." "Jesus Christ, I'm fixing to cry again." "Don't, you little bleeding pussy. But if you do, I'll always be there to lick the tears away." God, the crying was new to me. I remembered crying in the eighth grade when we lost a championship game and again in the tenth grade when we got defeated in the playoffs. Other than that, I hadn't ever cried. The last forty-eight hours had been like the crying time of my life, and I wanted it to stop. I didn't cry, but I came really close. In a little while, Rick and I smoked another cigarette and went inside. The rest of the evening was all party. Sure, we went outside to smoke now and then, but it was just that--a smoke, not a financial revelation or an emotional breakdown. Rick and I left the party around midnight, the time Santa Claus was supposed to come. We made love again, and Rick gave me some more saliva therapy on my nipples. I had set the clock for 6:30 because I knew the kids would be up by then. The next morning, we slipped into the side door and found the downstairs deserted. We had showered and shaved the night before, so we didn't get into that that morning. We brushed our teeth, splashed water on our faces, and dressed in the same clothes we had worn the night before. "Shit, we could have made love this morning," Rick said. "Made love." Those words were precious to me. "I know, but we didn't know. Let's get some food out for the family." Rick and I got busy in the kitchen. He made coffee, while I got out the fruit-ring pastries Grammy had brought. It had to be baked for forty-five minutes, according to the instructions taped to the foil wrappers on the two items, and I got those in the oven. When the first pot of coffee was made, I told Rick to pour it into a thermos we kept for just such occasions. He made a second pot. Everything was on ready, so we decided to go outside to drink our coffee and smoke. "Merry Christmas, dude," he said. "Merry-fucking-Christmas to you, too, dude." We both laughed our asses off. We were very much in love, and everything was funny to us. We were still on the patio when Grammy came out. "Are you boys smoking," she asked. The evidence was obvious. I was holding a cigarette, and Rick had one in an ashtray in front of him. "Yes, m'am," I said, sheepishly. "Well, you got one for me? Mine are upstairs." Jesus Christ, I thought. My grandmother smokes? At her age? "Sure, Jane," Rick said, passing her one. She lit up like a veteran, which, at seventy-five, no doubt she was, and sucked down the smoke. "Will one of you boys get an old lady a cup of coffee?" Rick and I fell all over ourselves getting her coffee. He ended up going inside for it. "Grammy, I never knew you smoked," I said, flabbergasted. "Shit, boy, I've been smoking since I was thirteen." "Wow," I said. "And you've been smoking since you were fifteen. Rick started when he was that age, too." "Grammy, you're extraordinary." "I try to be outrageous. And I'll tell you another thing. You and Rick are gay, and you're in love with one another." "What?" "You heard me, Kevin. I saw it last night. And I've very pleased." "Well, you're right." "I know I am. And I'm as happy for you boys as I was for your father when he married your mother. So, there." "Grammy, you are really something. I had no idea you were as savvy as you are." "You didn't know I smoked, either. You're just a dumb kid." We both laughed, really hard. "Do you know that I love you," I asked. "Of course, I know that. You've always loved me, and I've always loved you. And we always will. Now where the fuck is my coffee?" JESUS CHRIST!!!! If anyone had threatened me with death over whether my Grammy would say "fuck," I would have cheerfully died. WOW!!! What a woman. Rick came out with the coffee just then. She tasted it and said, "There's no bourbon in this coffee. Get the bottle." Rick looked at me and shrugged. He ran inside and got a bottle of bourbon. Grammy drank off some coffee and poured a healthy slug into her cup. "Why do you boys think I'm so fucking healthy at my age? It's the bourbon that does it." Rick and I both laughed, and he poured a healthy slug in my cup and his. "I love you, Grammy," I said. "And I do, too, Jane." We toasted with our cups of coffee and drank 'em down. We stayed on the patio for another half hour, drinking bourbon-laced coffee and smoking cigarettes. Then I noticed one of my sisters in the kitchen. "I think they're up," I said. "Well, we'd better haul our asses into the house," Grammy said. "The kids are gonna be down soon, and we gotta be there to see what Santa brought them. What a hoax. Fucking Santa. He gets all the credit for what their parents buy them." Rick looked at me with a look that conveyed "kewl grammy." I nodded. Once inside, the rest of the family was, indeed, up and around the tree. "Anybody want an eye-opener," my dad asked. My two brothers-in-law and Rick and I said we did. "Mother," Dad asked. "Hell, yes," she said. My mother and sisters blanched a little at her language and at the fact she wanted a drink. "I'll have a Bloody Mary," Grammy said. We all confirmed that that was our preference. My older sister's husband got up to help. I figured I'd get a Virgin Mary and would have to add vodka later, but, to my surprise, my brother-in-law handed me the real thing, and winked when he handed it to me. Opening presents took a long time. We had to refresh our drinks twice. Everybody had a pile before him or her, and we took turns opening them. That was the way we always did it, and everyone was expected to ohhh and ahhh over every gift. Rick's presents were a great success. Mine were taken kindly, too, but I could tell they weren't as well received as his were. I pretended that the videos Rick gave me were just what I wanted, which they were, since I had bought them myself. He loved the shirt I gave him, and he splashed on some of the aftershave right there. The kids were overwhelmed with all the gifts, but they played with the boxes more than the toys. The gifts were over by 11:30, and we had a break. Grammy, Rick, and I went out to the patio to smoke. "What did Stan give you last night," Grammy asked me. I told her about the 500 K for turning eighteen and the 10 K for graduating high school. "Ok. I'm satisfied," she said. "Those were the right amounts." I was dying to know what else she was thinking, but I didn't dare ask. Stan would be at dinner that night. That's when he gave us our Christmas presents. In a little while, Mom called out it was time for brunch, so we all went in. The meal was spectacular. The two grandkids were off somewhere, maybe asleep after their hectic morning, and we enjoyed it fully. My mom was as wonderful cook, on those few occasions when she chose to exercise that talent, and Christmas brunch was always one of them. We had small filets cooked to perfection, eggs scrambled just the way I like them, and curried fruit. It was delicious. Christmas afternoon was down time for the family. The kids played with their toys and the boxes they came in, and everyone else kind of hung around and napped or read something they had received that morning. Rick and I excused ourselves and went up to my apartment. "That was fun," he said. "It was a real family Christmas." "Yeah. Do you like the shirt I gave you?" "It's my favorite gift," he said. "I'm gonna wear it tonight." "Cool," I said. We settled on the sofa and immediately started kissing. Rick was a great kisser, and his tongue in my mouth made me rock hard. I had made out with girls a bunch of times, but I never got sexually turned on. I could kiss pretty well, though, from all that practice. Before too long we had each other undressed. Rick played with my dick and balls, and I played with his nipples. He sucked my nipples some more, and there was no pain, only pleasure in his doing that. "I want you to fuck me," he said. "What?" "I want to be fucked. I like that, too, you know." "Sure," I said and led him to the bedroom. He got on his back on the bed, and I got down between his legs. I licked his balls a few times, but I went to work on his asshole almost immediately. He tasted good, kind of salty. I ran my tongue into his hole a few times. I reached for the lube and spread some on his hole and my cock. Then I took my plunge. Being inside Rick was different from being inside a girl. It was tighter, for one thing, and Rick contracted his muscles rhythmically around my cock. We got a really nice rhythm going. "Slow down when you feel close to coming," he said. "That'll make it last longer." I did as Rick told me, and I was able to prevent my orgasm for a good while. "Am I on your sweet spot," I asked. "Yeah," he gasped. "Ohhhhhh, yeah." I fucked slowly and deliberately. Rick's ass met mine on my down stroke, and he pulled back on my up stroke. We were fucking each other, and it was wonderful. After twenty minutes or so, Rick announced he was coming. I could feel his ass contract, so I pushed in all the way to keep my cock from popping out. His ass contractions set me off, and I climaxed just as he started spurting. "Damn, that was good," he said, when we were settled next to one another in bed. "Really," I asked. "That was the first time for me, you know." "I know, and you done good, babe. Real good." That made me happy to know I had given him serious pleasure. I had been a little worried that my inexperience had been making the sex less than great for him, but apparently I had performed okay. We lay in each other's arms for a while, and we both drifted off to sleep. We slept for a couple of hours and woke up around five. Rick was draped over my chest. He put his mouth on my right nipple and started playing with the ring with his tongue. That's all it took for me to get rock hard. We kissed and cuddle and otherwise played with each other's bodies. This was heaven, I thought. Eventually, Rick got between my legs and lifted them. He started tonguing my anus, and every lick sent a wave of pleasure over me. I raised my legs over his shoulders, and I thought he was going to fuck me. Instead, he inserted a finger moistened with his saliva and found my sweet spot. He simply rubbed it, and, oh, it felt so good. He almost made me come a couple of times, but he knew just when to back off to let me calm down before he started it again. Time after time, I went to the brink of orgasm, and time after time, he slowed me down. Finally, at my pleading, he inserted his penis. That was the best. He rocked back and forth, and I tried to match the movement he had used earlier when I had fucked him. We got a decent rhythm going. Rick continued to bring me near climax and then back me away. Finally, though, it got to be too much, and I came. He pumped his jizz deep inside me, and I was fully content. After another half hour of cuddling and teasing, we got up to shower for the dinner party that night. Rick wore the shirt I gave him and some of the aftershave. The dinner party was another tradition in my family. It was always simple fare. In fact, it was always ham, potato casserole, salad, and bread. My dad had suggested the idea for this years before when he was sick of all the rich food he had comsumed at cocktail parties and the like for several weeks. Everyone gathered in the living room, and the first order of business, after drinks, of course, was for each person present to tell what he or she had gotten for Christmas. Stan was there alone, as usual, along with the Adamses and the Fells. These were the people who came every year. Occasionally, the cast shifted a bit, as a boyfriend or girlfriend was dragged into the mix, but that year all the Adams and Fell kids were away or otherwise occupied. The room was big, but Rick and I took to the floor to give the older people a place to sit. When it was Stan's turn, he gave out his gifts to us. They were always checks for a thousand dollars. My sisters and I were the only recepients of Stan's largesse, though. He didn't give gifts to my parents, at least not on Christmas night. My older sister opened hers first, as usual, and, as usual, she went beserk over the money. It was a game we all played. My middle sister was next, and she acted appropriately for her thousand. Then it was my turn. I opened the envelope and took out the check. I glanced at it, but it had an extra zero. My check was for ten thousand. Well, I really went beserk, without revealing the amount, of course. Stan winked at me as I thanked him. We finished show and tell, had another round of drinks, and went in to eat. Dad had set up a card table for the people who couldn't fit at the dining room table (which held twelve, by the way). Stan, my middle sister, Mrs. Adams, and I got the card table that night. The meal was served buffet style, and I ate my usual two helpings. I noticed Rick ate heartily, too. After dinner we stayed at the table for a long time. Stan, Rick, and I went outside to smoke a couple of times, but everyone else remained seated. Grammy didn't join us. I guessed she was just a day-time smoker. My mom always had traditional English Christmas crackers for each of us, and we had fun playing with the paper crowns and little toys that came in them. The kids hadn't been allowed to eat with us, of course, but Mom saved their crackers for the next day. By 11:30, everything was cleaned up and put away. Rick and my sisters and I did the clean-up, while the other people had a nightcap in the living room. When we were finished, we joined the others, and, by midnight, Rick and I were back in my apartment. "You want to watch a video," he asked. "Sure," I said. "Which one?" "One of the horny ones, of course," he grinned. I made us each a drink, and Rick popped the video in the VCR. We settled back to watch the show. And what a show it was. I had seen porn clips that I had downloaded from the Internet, but I had never seen a full-length gay porn movie. I was fascinated and, of course, got real horny, real fast. Rick suggested we get naked, and we both lounged on the sofa, playing with our own cocks and with each other's. I think we watched each other as much as we did the screen. Eventually, we both shot off. By then I was really tired, and I knew Rick was, too. We wiped the cum off our chests and stomachs and got in bed. We cuddled and kissed a little, but we went to sleep without making love. We had had a full day, and we were exhausted.