Date: Thu, 6 Jun 2019 17:14:52 -0400 From: RJ Subject: Little Me - Ch. 11 Little Me by RJ This fiction involves the sexual relationship between an adult and a minor -- specifically an uncle and his young nephew. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for this story (or all stories) and receive emails about any updates, let me know. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ CHAPTER 11 ~ When I get back to the lake house, I'm surprised to see that Vince's car is already parked in the driveway, with him leaning against it. He perks up when I'm close enough for him to hear my tires against the gravel, and I see him smile and wave at me. If I were him, I would have waited in my car since it's fucking freezing outside, but he looks unbothered by the weather in his thick denim jacket. I park my truck next to him and then hop out, smiling in his direction. "Hey buddy," I say. "Leooo," he drawls, laughing as he comes around to give me a quick hug. I notice the bag on his back as I wrap my arms around him. "Good to see you, man!" "Good to see you too," I say with a smile. "Missing the California sun already, I bet," he says with a little grin. I just sigh. "You have no idea." New England winter weather makes me a bit miserable at times. I already feel the chill hitting my skin, even though my coat. "Wanna head in?" I ask. "Yeah," he says with a nod and a small adjustment to his bag. I wonder what's in it, but I don't ask questions yet. I merely lead the way, unlocking the front door and letting us both in. It's not particularly warm in here either since I haven't been here for a few days and the heat has been off. In fact, in a weird way, it almost seems colder inside the house, but I make a beeline for the thermostat and crank the heat up as high as it can go. "Hopefully she warms up quick," I say. "That'd be nice," he says, setting his bag down but leaving his coat on. Luckily the space is small so it shouldn't take terribly long for it to be nice and toasty in here. "I can't deal with this fuckin' cold." "I mean, especially after San Diego," he says. "That's as nice as it gets." "Damn straight," I say with a smile. He smiles too before saying "Thanks for seeing me, by the way." "Yeah, of course." I head to the fridge to fix myself a drink, pulling out the bottle of scotch. I tilt the alcohol towards him, wordlessly offering him a drink, but he turns it down with a shake of his head. "You said you were busy for the next couple days?" I ask as I pour myself a small glass. "Yeah," Vince says. "So I can't stay too long, but... wanted to catch you before I left." "Where are you going?" I ask. "To visit my stepdad." I glance up at him as I cap the bottle of scotch. "Do you usually go for a few days?" "No, but one of my good friends from college lives up that way. So I'm making it a double-visit." "Very nice," I say, taking a sip of my drink. We're between contracts now at work (mainly because of the shit weather), so it seems as good a time as any for him to take the long drive up to visit his friend and stepdad. "How's he doing?" I ask curiously. He shrugs. "I think he's okay. Holding on." He gives me a forced sort of smile. "He always gets bummed out this time of year." "Holidays and all?" Vince nods. "Christmas used to be, like, our thing." He has a sad, nostalgic tone to his voice, and I frown at him a bit as he seems to get lost in his thoughts for a moment. "Sorry, kid," I say before taking another sip. "It's alright," he says, shaking it off. "Think he'll get out early?" I ask. From what I remember, he still technically has ten or so more years to serve. "I'm trying not to hope too much, you know?" he says. I just nod. I know that feeling all too well. Every day in prison, I hoped someone would show some leniency or mercy or notice my good behavior and set me loose early. But if you put too much stock into those hopes, it hurts after a while. "Anyway," Vince says, "what's new with you? How's Eli?" "He's good," I tell him. We already talked about the trip over the phone yesterday, so he knows all about my San Diego adventures. "He was sad that we had to end our trip together, but, you know how it goes," I say, and Vince nods. "I think he might be getting somewhere with his dad though." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Wes was acting... kinda weird today," I comment. He looks intrigued. "Weird how?" "I don't know. Just... different?" I'm finding it difficult to explain it. "When he picked us up, it was like he'd... I don't know, seen the light or something." Vince grins. "'Seen the light'?" "Just like... He was kinder and apologetic and admitted he's been fucking up lately." Vince knows most of the story concerning Wes' abuse of alcohol and his intense focus on his career and his failure as a family man. "It was surprising." "That's good, though, right?" Vince asks. I nod slowly. "Yeah. I'm just being wary." "That's fair," he says, and then he smiles. "Think he'll like me now?" I smile back. "Don't count on it," I say. He laughs. "I figured." Then he peers up at me before asking "Have you told him anything? About me, I mean." "Of course not." "Why not?" I shrug. Didn't he want to keep it between us? I thought it was implied, if not explicitly stated. "It's not my story to tell, Vinny." He smiles appreciatively and nods, the slightest shade of red in his cheeks. "You're pretty trustworthy, Leo." I smile a bit. "Though I still stand by what I said earlier," I say. "He'd probably like you better if he knew the whole story. Maybe not the WHOLE story, but..." I add, thinking the whole "Vince liking it" thing might not sit well with Wesley. Vince shrugs. "I don't want him to see me as a victim," he says. "I'd rather that than a villain," I say. Maybe it's a harsh choice of words, but that's more or less how Wes sees the poor kid. "I don't know," he says, drifting off into thought. I take another sip of my drink before saying "Well, it's totally up to you." "Yeah," he says, nodding a bit. "It'd be nice to get along again." "I'll only talk to him when you want me to," I tell him. "Think about it. Don't think about it. Whatever you want." He smiles a little. "Thanks, man." I smile back and give him a little nod before my eyes flicker towards his backpack. "So, uh..." I cock my chin towards his back. "What's going on here?" "Oh, right!" he says, sitting up straight and laughing a bit as if he just remembered why he came here in the first place. "I, uh... I have something for you." He unzips his backpack and pulls out a shoe box from inside it. When he lifts the lid, my eyebrows rise. Inside are three unmarked VHS tapes. My eyes flicker to Vince. "What are those?" I ask, even though I have an intensely sneaking suspicion. "Just... something we talked about," he says vaguely. I lick my lips and then swallow thickly, aware that my heart is racing. "I thought the police got 'em all," I say almost in a whisper, as if we might be overheard. Didn't he say that? "Not all of them," he says, pulling out the tapes. He sets them down on the counter, side-by-side. "I found these when I moved out of my mom's. I guess the cops missed them." He scratches his head, looking nervous too. "I've wanted to show you for a while now, actually." "Really?" I ask. "Why?" "I've always fantasized about sharing these with someone," he says. "Seeing what they think. And, well, you and I, we've been so open with each other," he says. It's true. Almost every time we hang out, we talk more about my relationship with Eli or his relationship with his stepdad. Sometimes they're innocent stories, more so on the cutesy side. Other times, they're much more sexually graphic, and we both discreetly try to adjust ourselves whenever we get lost in the reminiscing. "And I like you," he adds, "and I think you'll like these. You can tell me if I'm wrong though, and I'll fuck off." He must have read my curiosity correctly whenever he mentioned the tapes. I can't deny that I'm insanely curious to see, even if I'm nervous. "What if we get caught?" he asks. He tilts his head. "Do you think we will?" I bite my lip slightly, my hand still wrapped tightly around my scotch glass as I stare at the tapes. No, I don't think we'll get caught, but it's still a risk. Then Vince speaks up again. "I won't tell if you won't." He's giving me such a childish little smirk that I can't help but laugh. "Alright." He grins before looking at the tapes with a more thoughtful expression. He takes a moment before patting the left-most one. "Start with this one," he says, "if you wanna go in chronological order." I nod a bit, my mouth feeling both wet and dry at the same time. How far back do these go? Then I realize what he's implying: "Wait, you're not gonna stay?" He looks up at me. "Um... Well... I was just gonna leave these with you." "You should stay," I insist. He stares up at me, a small smile slowly spreading across his face before he nods. "Okay." "TV's in there." I cock my head towards the living room, and after, he grabs the first tape and heads right to the television. I feel my heart racing already, and I down the rest of my scotch before setting the glass on the counter and joining my friend in the living room. I plop down on the couch and wait for Vince to set up the tape. I find myself unable to sit straight. I keep shifting in my seat, adjusting my jeans repeatedly until Vinny gets the tape playing. He steps back from the television, glancing at the silent screen before turning to me. "You have the remote?" he asks. "Uh--" I look around and point to the opposite side of the couch. "Right there." Vince comes over, grabs the remote, and starts turning up the volume. Soon, the sound comes through to accompany the picture. The camera is focused on a boy wearing a makeshift crown and a onesie. It seems like whoever is recording is spying on him, because he or she zooms in through an open door to watch the boy brush his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. "Is that you?" I ask. "Yeah," Vinny says, setting the remote down and sitting right next to me with a sigh. He spreads his legs a bit, much like I'm doing. Our knees are touching but neither of us pull away. I'm about to ask who's recording, but then I hear a voice come out of the television's speakers. "Viiinnyyy," it says. Obviously, it's his stepdad. The voice is deep and masculine, but playful, and at the sound of that voice, young Vinny turns his head towards the camera and then giggles a bit, toothpaste dripping down his chin when it sputters from his lips. "Stop spying!" Vinny mutters, and he quickly leans over the sink to spit the toothpaste out. "But I miss you," Vinny's stepdad says. What's his name again? Will? "I'm almost done, Papa," Vinny says in his adorable voice. As we watch young Vinny clean himself up, I ask another question. "How old are you in this?" My eyes are glued to the screen, but in my periphery, I sense Vince shrug. "Honestly, I don't know for sure," he says, and I gulp. If I had to guess, I'd guess this is towards the beginning of their relationship -- maybe half Eli's age now. Though I could be wrong. I'm never good at guessing ages. On the TV, Vinny gives his teeth a quick final brush before hopping off the stepstool and bolting towards the camera. Will laughs and runs too, ignoring his role as cameraman until he's in what looks to be a bedroom. I think he lands on his back with Vinny quickly pouncing on him. "Wait wait wait," Will says with a laugh, steadying the camera and focusing on Vinny. "There we go." Vinny gives the camera a bright, toothy smile. Fuck, he was an adorable kid. "Lemme check your teeth," Will says. Vinny opens his mouth and Will's large, hairy, worker's hand enters the frame, his thumb pushing his stepson's lip down as if to inspect Vinny's technique. Will praises Vinny before slowly pushing his thumb into the boy's mouth a little more, and Vinny's lips wrap around the thumb expectedly. As soon as Vinny lets out a tiny giggle as he sucks on Will's thumb, my cock twitches aggressively in my jeans. I shift in my seat again, feeling hot despite the freezing weather. It's because I'm watching something I shouldn't. Vinny pulls his lips away from Will's thumb and says "Let me check yours!" excitedly. Will lets out a gruff little laugh before Vinny leans in, his hands out-of-frame. I just have to imagine what those little fingers are doing: pushing past his stepfather's lips to check his teeth. Then, Will has the sense to tilt the camera towards them both, and he smiles jovially at us before Vinny leans down to kiss his stepdad. It's a slow, playful kiss, and they tease each other with a little tongue. Clearly Vinny loves his stepdad's facial hair, because his fingers keep running through it as they peck at each other's lips. It's all perfectly fun and "innocent" until Vinny starts to shift. He wiggles his body down and Will grunts before focusing the camera to his point of view. Now we're watching little Vinny smile up at us, his plastic crown askew as he hooks his fingers in his stepdad's pajama pants and rests his chin right against his groin. He nuzzles his face into it lightly, and my mouth opens slightly. Clearly this isn't their first time. "What are you doing, boy?" Will asks, and I can sense a grin in his voice. "Nothin'," Vinny says playfully, giggling. "Nothin', eh?" Will chuckles. "Doesn't look like nothin'." "I wanna see your peepee." Something about the way his voice says that gets my cock fully fucking erect. I nudge the head of my dick with my thumb discreetly through my jeans, but I wish I hadn't -- now, all I want to do is jerk off. "You do, huh?" "Please, Papa?" Vinny asks, biting his lip and giving his stepfather puppy dog eyes. God, he's just like Eli. He knows how convincing he can be. "You already played with Papa's thingy this morning," Will's voice says. "But I wanna play again." Vinny pouts a little before moving one of his hands directly onto Will's bulge. Will grunts and lets out a deep sigh. "Fiiine," he says, as if it's the last thing he wants to do right now. "Just for a little bit. Mommy will be home soon." Vinny smiles brightly before quickly sitting up a bit to start to slide his stepfather's pants down. My mouth is fucking damp. I swallow thickly, sitting up a little straighter and then glancing over at Vince. I notice he's not watching the tape at all. He's watching me, gauging my reaction. Then, my eyes slide down towards his lap, and I see that he's gently groping himself. Seems he's thinking along a similar vein as me. I lick my lips a bit before doing the same, slowly sliding my hand between my legs and then giving my crotch a squeeze. Fuck, that feels good. I'm too horny right now. Too fucking horny. We seem to wordlessly egg each other on. One of us will grip ourselves a little more firmly, and the other will follow suit. We're both clearly hard in our jeans, packing major heat, but I have no real intention to whip it out -- that is, until Vince makes the first move. He undoes the button in his jeans, then the fly, and then slides his pants and underwear down just enough for his cock to flop out. My instinct is to look away, but I find myself checking him out anyway. He's got a substantial piece between his legs. Probably a little smaller than me, and with the slightest upwards curve. It's also so hard-looking that it's somewhat red, pulsing with need until he wraps his fingers around it. I look up at his face and he nods a little bit, his eyes flickering to my crotch. Guess it's my turn. I undo my belt, the button, and then the fly, and, since I'm not wearing underwear, all I do is reach in and fish my manhood out. It feels good to release it from the confines of my pants. The air is cooling me off a little bit, but I quickly wrap my fingers around my dick, keeping it warm. This is intense. I'm the strangest mix of comfortable and on-edge. I've never jerked off with another guy before, especially not with something so pervy and controversial on the TV screen. Speaking of which... When I look back at the TV, I wonder how much I missed. I hear Will let out a deep groan, and my eyes are treated to the sight of young Vinny gobbling up his stepdad's cock. Will's is probably average-sized, but it looks huge considering who's handling it. Vinny sucks on the head and maybe an inch down, bobbing back and forth, a little bit of drool sliding down the man's cock. Vince and I just stroke ourselves as we watch the screen. It feels so fucking dirty, perverted, insane, hot. My cock is loving this right now. And then, all of a sudden, I feel Vince's hand on my thigh, and I look down at it before looking over at him. He keeps his eyes on mine as he moves his hand very slightly back and forth, as if testing me. My heart is pounding -- mostly because I'm not recoiling. I let his fingers slide closer and closer to their goal, and once his fingers touch my cock, I let go of myself. I inhale sharply when he replaces his hand with mine, my hips automatically rising. He's the second person to touch me since I got out of prison. I've gotten so used to Eli's touch that Vinny's is noticeably different. His is firmer. Much more sure. He feels out my hardness before starting to stroke a bit, and I close my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being touched. It's not like I haven't gotten off in a while. But this situation is different than what I'm used to lately. Plus, the porn playing on the screen is making me hornier than I've been in a while. I glance over at Vince's lap as he strokes himself with his other hand. Suddenly, I'm tempted to return the favor, mostly because I would feel oddly rude receiving without giving. So, I reach over, skipping the thigh-tease and going straight for his dick. Vince moans quietly but appreciatively, letting me take over stroking his cock for him. THIS feels even weirder, stroking an adult cock for the first time, but hearing his reaction keeps me going. I grip him tight and give him the same slow-stroking treatment he's giving me. Here we are. Two pervs, tugging on each other's cocks while we watch one of Vince's home videos. It's incredibly playful, that video. Young Vinny giggles often, or sends adorable kisses up and down the shaft, or sometimes pulls back to adjust his little crown. He's clearly enjoying himself, and Will is just sitting back and enjoying (and recording) the ride. We both watch as Vince's younger self sits up per Will's request and undoes the long zipper on the front of his onesie. His pale skin is exposed all the way to his waist since he's wearing nothing but a tight pair of patterned briefs underneath. He sits up in his stepdad's lap, letting that large hand molest his bulge as he wraps his fingers around that adult cock and strokes it. I hear young Vinny let out a happy little mewl, and it instantly reminds me of the sounds Eli makes when we're together. Fuck, if only they grew up together as close friends. Imagine that... But my imagination is cut short when Vince leans over and takes my cock into his mouth. I let go of his cock, raising my hands a bit as I look down in surprise, but Vince pays me no mind. He buries his face in my lap, taking me in deeply. "Fuck," I moan, blinking the daze out of my eyes. God, that feels good. He can take me all the way with relative ease, and I listen to him hum and moan and make throaty noises as he bobs up and down. I hesitate at first, but eventually I just decide to rest my hand on the back of his head, because I don't know what to do with it. A lot is happening right now, after all, so I'm mostly confused for a moment -- confused by my feelings, confused by the situation, confused by how good it all is. My fingers get into his hair more as he sucks a little harder, making me slouch a bit more. I feel like I'm almost overstimulated, but I feel so fucking good right now and I try not to think too hard about the whole young-man-sucking-my-dick thing. I see Vince stroking himself as he pleasures me, but I can't reach over to grab him without it being an awkward position. Plus, frankly, I just want to enjoy this: getting exceptional head while watching Vince's younger self two-handing his stepfather's cock. Will now has Vinny's boycock out, and it's erect as he rubs it between his fingers. Vinny just focuses on jerking him off. The boy doesn't use his mouth much anymore -- just once to suck off a thick drop of precum oozing from the tip. The sight of that makes my hips raise, and Vince grunts as I inch my cock into his throat. Soon, Will gets close. I hear him say "Papa's gonna cum," followed by Vinny's little giggle. The boy focuses intently, eyes fixed on his stepdad's cock as he works it up and down, up and down, up and down, until finally, the man reaches climax. I listen to Will moan and watch his cock ooze out a thick load of white cum. After a second, he takes over for Vinny and starts milking the rest out, and the sight of all that cum tips me right over the edge. I grunt, clenching my eyes shut as my orgasm sweeps over me unexpectedly. I even grip Vinny's hair tightly, but he doesn't protest. He keeps his mouth on my cock, sucking even more eagerly now that I'm cumming. It blinds me for a moment, how good his tongue feels while I'm filling his mouth with my load, and I have to blink several times post-climax to be able to see clearly. I expel a deep breath, relaxing my body as Vince practically nurses on my cock. He keeps my dick in his mouth and just holds it there as he shifts onto his back a little more and vigorously beats off. Not much is going on on-screen, so I watch the young man in front of me lift his shirt slightly just when he reaches the point of no return. He moans repeatedly, muffled by his lips wrapped around the head of my dick, as he shoots his load. It sprays only a little bit -- two shots that land on his shirt and stomach. The rest of it oozes down his cock and over his thumb. We both take a minute to breathe and relax, the video still playing. All that's happening on screen is Vinny and Will chatting anyway while cleaning up. After a bit, Vince slides away from me, stands up, and half-pulls his jeans back on as he walks to the television and pauses the tape. Then, he lets out a long breath before looking at me. "Sorry," he says, scratching the back of his head. I look at him, confused. "Huh?" "I kinda just..." He gestures towards my crotch, and suddenly, I understand what he's referring to: the sudden blowjob. "Oh. Right." I clear my throat a bit. "It's okay," I tell him, stuffing my cock back into my jeans and zipping myself up. I'm not sure how to feel now that I've gotten off. "Wasn't weird?" he asks. "No," I say, even though I was caught off-guard. Is that me being honest? Not completely, but there's truth there. "Surprising, but not weird." He laughs slightly, nodding. "I just get in that headspace sometimes, and... I don't know. I told you you remind me of my stepdad," he says. I smile slightly. "I still don't get why," I say, scratching my jaw. "We look nothing alike." Though I remember Vinny saying something about similar energies or something. "I'm just really comfortable around you," he says, and I smile at him a little. To me, that's one of the best compliments I can get -- to have someone be able to be themselves around me. "I should've asked, though." "It's cool, buddy," I assure him, not wanting him to feel bad about it. "I think I would've let you do anything at that point," I add with a laugh. "I was... pretty fucking horned up." He chuckles. "So, you liked the tape then?" "I think it's pretty obvious I liked the tape," I say with a slight grin. "Well, cool, 'cause we're only fifteen minutes in." After taking a little bit of a break, we end up watching another thirty or so minutes of that same tape. It features a totally different scene where Will and young Vinny sneak off from some family party to give each other head. This time, we don't jerk off. Even though I'm hard, I'm sore and tired, and it's nice just to talk with Vince through this one. I get to hear what he remembers, and make commentary accordingly. Vince has to leave soon though since he's travelling tomorrow. So we stop the tape and call it a night. "Thanks for, uh... coming over," I tell him as I escort him to the door. He laughs. "My pleasure, man," he says, smiling at me. He seems to be searching my face for something before asking "We're cool, right?" "Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" Is he still worried about the blowjob? Was he really that deep in his headspace? "Just making sure," he says, biting his lip before pulling me into a quick, brotherly hug. "I'll let you know when I'm back in town." "For sure," I say, patting his arm a bit. Then I remember: "Oh, shit! We didn't grab the tapes." I'm about to turn and grab them for him when he stops me. "I made copies," he says with a smile. "Those are for you." It's the perfect day to go sledding. It's bright and sunny, and it's not so cold that our extremities are threatening to fall off or so warm that we're sweating our asses off in our clothes. And it's the perfect location, too. When Wes and I lived in New Hampshire as kids, Camp Revenant was the go-to sledding spot since, if you brought your own equipment, access to the hills was free. Bottleneck Hill (as the locals called it) was the real attraction, especially when school was canceled due to "inclement weather." It's one huge, choppy hill with varied slopes, including the infamous "Neckbreaker". That side of the hill has a drop like a roller roaster, nearly vertical, and a few spots where you'll end up airborne if you're going fast enough. Rumor has it some kid died trying to master the slope (hence the name "Neckbreaker"), but I don't think it's true. It's scary, but it's no more dangerous than any other part of winter sports. It looks just the same as it did all those years ago, down to the lonely fir tree at the peak. It's busier though -- maybe because the lodge itself is completely abandoned. Now it's just acres of snowy hills and entire families taking advantage of a bearable winter afternoon. Wes and Eli seem particularly excited -- Eli, because he gets to experience a bit of our history, and Wes because he gets to travel back in time a bit. We haven't come up this way since we were kids, so I'm fully anticipating trips down good old Memory Lane. The goal is to tackle Bottleneck Hill, first and foremost. And after talking it up so much, Eli's thrilled, practically shaking with anticipation. In fact, once we park and point to the one hill with the fir tree on top, Eli quickly pulls on his winter coat and scarf, grabs a sled, and books it, causing me and Wes to laugh. Wes grabs the second sled out of the trunk and locks up the car, and then we start following Eli. "How much you wanna bet he backs down as soon as he gets up there?" Wes asks. I chuckle. "He's gonna shit himself," I say, and Wes laughs. "Remember the first time you went down?" "You mean when you pushed me?" I say with a grin. "How could I forget?" I nearly gave the locals a reason to call that slope "The Neckbreaker". "Hey, all I did was give you a little nudge in the right direction," he says, patting my back. "Well, your little nudge made me never trust you again," I tease, though that's not that far from the truth. I spent years wondering when Wes was going to pull some shit on me again. He laughs. "Still?" "Still." He smiles a little before looking towards Eli, who has just made it to the base of the hill and is starting to make his way up. He's probably a hundred feet ahead of us. "How did you manage to connect with him so well?" Wes asks me. In the hours it took to drive here, we had many conversations in the car. Wes and I carried most of them, and it was interesting to see that whenever I addressed Eli, he responded excitedly. However, whenever Wes tried to engage his son, Eli was hesitant. And I can't blame the kid. He's so used to being shut down or ignored or berated by his father that it's understandable for him to be wary of these changes. Hell, even I'm skeptical. But Wes is clearly trying. There's a patience there that I'm not used to seeing, and an effort that he hasn't shown in... well, who knows how long. "Just give him time, Wes," I tell him, avoiding getting into the relationship I have with Eli. "He's not used to, you know, talking with you." "I don't know how to fix it," he admits. I pat his shoulder. "He wants a relationship with you. I promise you that," I assure him, and Wes nods. "Just take it slow. Don't force it." "Yeah. I'll try," Wes says. It takes us a while to get up to the top of the hill, and when we do, we have to pause to catch our breath. I hunch over a bit, feeling dreadfully out of shape before I notice Eli standing towards the edge, peering over it as if having second thoughts. I nudge Wesley with my elbow and say "Look," and he glances at his son and then grins. "Told ya," he says before heading over to Eli's side. "How's it lookin', kiddo?" he asks. "Piece of cake, right?" Eli looks up at Wes briefly before looking back down at the slope. "I'm scared." "Don't tell me you don't wanna do it," he says to Eli, cocking his eyebrows. Eli sways on his feet, biting his lip in thought. "I don't know..." "If you can tackle this, you can tackle anything," Wes says. "Yeah?" "Oh yeah. Every other hill is pussy shit compared to this one." At his use of cuss words, Eli giggles a bit before nodding. "I'm still scared, though," he admits. "Don't be," Wes says, putting his hand on Eli's shoulder. "I'll go with you." But Eli switches things around. "I want Uncle Leo to go with me." I tense up slightly, peering at Wesley curiously. I'm fully expecting a shadow to cross his face, or for him to internally freak out, or for him to even just look plain old disappointed. But he smiles, calm as ever. "Alright, go with your Uncle Leo, then," he says in a way that manages to not sound patronizing or bitter. "He'll take good care of you. I promise it'll be fun." Eli seems to consider the slope again before he glances at me. "Are you coming?" I glance at Wes before nodding, giving Eli a smile. "Sure." We use the sled that Eli lugged up to the top of the hill. He sets it down in the snow and I hop on first before he gets in between my legs. He takes one of my arms and hooks it around him for safety, and I smile when I feel him shaking -- probably from nerves and not the cold. "Want me to give you a push?" Wes asks. I snort. "A little nudge?" "How 'bout a kick," Wes says before getting behind me. "Alright. Last chance to quit," he says to Eli. I lean into Eli's ear. "You ready?" He just nods, whimpering slightly and clutching onto my arms when I put both around him. I smirk. "Let's do this." Wes pushes us a few feet forward, and then, we start sliding down. Eli's yell is gradual, starting low before growing exponentially when we hit that steep drop. I, however, have a huge smile on my face, laughing as we speed down the hill with the cold air whipping across my face. I forgot how fast you can go on this hill, especially with this icy sort of snow. That means we'll probably get some good air -- and sure enough, when we go over that first small hump, we go high enough for me to have to quickly grab the edges of the sled in order to make sure we don't lose it. We hit the ground hard but smoothly, Eli gripping my legs tightly until we level off, slow down, and finally stop at the edge of a snow bank. "Holy shit!" Eli pants, resting his head against my chest. I laugh, patting his stomach. "Don't swear, Eli." "But that was so crazy!" he says, looking up at me and adjusting his glasses. "I thought we were gonna die!" "Good thing we didn't," I say, patting his thigh as a signal for him to get up. "Dad was right," Eli says as he stands up. "Now I can tackle anything." I chuckle a bit as I get to my feet and pick up the sled. "I wouldn't say ANYTHING, but... sure." "Let's go again!" he says, beaming, his face red from the cold. I laugh before I look back up the hill. Wes is waving at us, and I wave back before beckoning him down, hoping he gets the signal to try it out. Eli and I stand side-by-side as we watch Wes get into position. "Listen, Eli," I start, putting an arm around him, "you should really give your Dad a chance." He looks up at me curiously. "Whatcha mean?" "I mean... He's trying to get things back in order," he says. "And that includes his relationship with you." He bites his lip as he glances towards the peak, where Wesley lets out a cheer just as he starts to go down. "He seems nicer," Eli comments. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" Eli rests against me a bit. "Do you think he'll stay nice?" he asks after a moment. That's the big question, isn't it? Is this just a phase? "Time will tell, buddy," I say. That's all I can say, anyway. Of course I want Wesley to be good again, and I want to trust that he'll keep up this streak, but that's something he'll have to prove. Once it starts getting dark after a long day of sledding, the three of us think about heading to the hotel and maybe grab something to eat. The plan was to enjoy the outdoors for the day and then treat ourselves (with Wesley's money) to a five-star experience. Apparently this hotel has the works: lavish rooms, excellent quality room service, a pool and quite a few hot tubs, and even a spa and a gym that has a rec room towards the back of it. So needless to say, Eli is excited to experience something more high-end. However, when we arrive to check in, there's immediately an issue. "I'm sorry, sir, but you did not check in on time," the receptionist says. When I squint at her nametag, I think it says Gail. Wesley looks confused for a moment before speaking. "Wait a minute... What?" "Check in ends at three P.M.," she says as professionally as possible. But I can tell she's getting worried. Giving customers bad news is always a risk. "But I called this morning to make sure that we can check in late," Wesley says. "I have confirmation and everything." "I'm sorry, sir, but your room is unavaila--" "Are you fucking kidding me?" he mutters, holding his head back for a moment. He takes a few breaths and then glares at Gail, clearly trying to keep calm. "I had this sorted out eight hours ago." "Again, I apologize," she says in a level voice, "but your room is unavailable." "Just give me another damn room then," he mutters, slapping his credit card down on the counter. He turns to me with a frustrated look. "This is ridiculous." I just shrug as Gail tries to get Wes's attention. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're booked." Wesley just stares at her hard for several drawn-out seconds. Even I'm nervous. "You're joking, right?" "I'm not joking. I'm sorr--" "Stop fucking apologizing," he says gruffly, holding his hand up to her. I try to step in to keep him level-headed. "Wes--" "The hell is going on?" he asks rhetorically before looking at me. "Why did they tell me everything would be fine if they were gonna give up the fuckin' room? This is fucking insane. I don't wanna fucking drive all the way back home." In reality, we could. It's a four-hour drive, and sure, it would be pretty shitty driving into the wee hours of the night, but we could do it if need be. I think Wesley's just upset that his Boys' Day is being compromised. Plus, in all honesty, I understand his frustration. I was there when he made the call, and he was assured that there would be no issues. "We can figure it out," I say, and when I feel Eli quietly lean against me, I put my arm around him, lightly playing with his hair. "We can try somewhere else." Wes turns back to the receptionist so quickly that she flinches slightly. "There's not a SINGLE room available?" "No, sir, we're completely--" "Check," he demands, snapping his fingers and pointing to her computer screen. As she starts typing away, he leans over the desk and turns the computer towards himself so that he can see exactly what she's doing. I hope we don't get security called on us or something. He needs to relax. "I'm sorry, sir, but as you can see, there's nothing left." I have to commend this girl for keeping her wits about her. Guess they train them well here. "What's that?" Wes asks, pointing to something on the upper part of the screen. I can't see what it is from my angle though. "That's one of our honeymoon suites." "Looks available to me," he says, staring at her. She looks confused. "But... it's specifically for--" "Give it to me," he says, pushing his card closer to her as if goading her to take it. She seems hesitant. Her eyes even stray towards me for a second. "It's much more expensive than our standard rooms, sir, and the room--" "I don't care about the price," Wesley says quickly. "Charge it before someone fucking books it." "I understand, sir, but the room isn't ready--" "So get it ready!" he says, throwing his hands up. "My God, what is so fucking hard about this concept? Why are you denying a paying fucking customer? Take the damn card so I can be on my fucking way." She senses the boiling frustration in Wes's voice and quickly snatches up his credit card. Two minutes later, we have the honeymoon suite. "I'll have the room ready for you in fifteen minutes," she says warily before sliding keys to the room and Wes's credit card across the counter. "Enjoy your stay." Wes takes the card and keys and sighs heavily. Without so much as a second glance at Gail, he picks his bag up and walks away from the desk. I give the girl an apologetic look before following Wesley, relieved that at least nothing too dramatic occurred. That's the last thing we need right now. We stop at the hotel restaurant first and grab a quick bite to eat. Most of Eli's and my meal is spent listening to Wesley complain about the receptionist and the lack of communication and the fact that we almost didn't get to book the suite for some reason. I don't have the answers, and I don't claim to know hotel policies, so I just nod. Eli is barely listening, lazily eating his food and struggling to keep his eyes open. I think the driving really takes it out of him. When we finally head up to the suite, I wonder how expensive it was. It's quite luxurious, and very romantic. The room is wide and has more of an open-floor plan, with a large king-sized bed situated next to an equally-large heart-shaped tub. Separated only by a wall of glass is what I guess the bathroom is: a completely see-through shower and, tucked behind the four-foot wall that the sink is attached to, a small toilet. There's not much in terms of privacy in this room, but I suppose privacy is a thing of the past when you're on your honeymoon. "Whoa," Eli says, looking around wide-eyed at the tacky but expensive decor. "What d'you think?" Wes asks, setting his bag down beside the bed and stretching. "It's... cute," I say, chuckling. I will say, though, I do like the access to the balcony. Even though it's cold and I don't plan on sitting outside, the doors are glass and allow an exceptional nighttime view of the surrounding mountains. There's a full moon tonight, so everything outside has a dark blue glow about it. "What's with all the flower petals?" I hear Eli ask, and when I look, I see that rose petals have been scattered across the bedspread, and even in the Jacuzzi beside it. Guess that's what Gail meant by the room not being ready. Did she think Wes and I were a couple? "We're on our honeymoon, don't you remember?" Wes jokes bitterly, and both Eli and I chuckle slightly. Then he sighs before smiling and clapping his hands together. "Alright. What's the plan?" I cock my eyebrow, amused. "The plan?" "I wanna sleep," Eli whines, raising his hand. Wes turns to his son. "So early? We just got here!" "I'm so tired, Dad," he says, rubbing one of his eyes. He has been pretty sleepy ever since we left Camp Revenant, but that's mostly because he stayed up too late last night. Wes looks at me for an idea, but I just shrug. "Let him sleep," I suggest. Defeated, Wesley slumps a bit as he looks at Eli. "Fine," he says before looking at me. "You're not getting off easy, though." I chuckle. "Wanna hit the bar, then?" We both change into slightly more presentable clothes while Eli gets pajamas on and then immediately climbs into bed. He comments on how comfortable the mattress is before disappearing under the blankets and telling us to have fun. After a quick goodnight, Wes and I head downstairs and grab seats at the bar. It's possibly the poshest bar I've ever been in, but it manages to still be cozy even if it does feel a little too fancy for my liking. I think it's the dim, amber lighting and the live soft jazz coming from a band tucked in the corner that helps offset the fact that every single surface is glittering faintly. It just looks too clean, and it's far too quiet. Everyone who's sitting at a table is talking softly -- the loudest thing I ever hear is an occasional laugh, and even that sound is quickly swallowed by the static murmur of the room. "Two Old Fashioneds," Wes says to the bartender when we sit, and I grin at him. "I shouldn't be surprised," I say. Classic "manly" drink. "Like you're complaining," he says with a grin. We wait for the bartender to return with our drinks, and once Wes tips the bartender handsomely, he raises his glass to mine. "Cheers." "To?" He pauses right before he takes a sip and then thinks about it. "To old times?" he suggests. I smile. "To old times." I raise my glass before taking a tentative sip. Not bad. "Was kinda weird being up on that hill again, huh?" Wes asks, leaning over the bar casually. I nod, laughing. "Yeah. We used to spend all winter up there." "All fuckin' winter," Wes says, nodding slowly. "Shit was simpler back then." I look at him. "That's for sure. I didn't have a record, and you weren't an alcoholic," I tease. "Hey," he warns before grinning. "I've been getting better." "Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about all that," I say, shifting my seat more towards him. "How's... I don't know, everything?" He shrugs. "I'm just doing my best, y'know?" he says. "Sometimes I feel like I keep fucking up still, but... I don't know. Tanya encourages me. She even sleeps with me now," he says, taking a sip of his drink. "Sleeps, or... sleeps?" I say, adding a playful amount of emphasis on the latter. He laughs. "Both," he says, nudging me with his elbow. "It's been good to, uh, get back into things. Give my hand a rest." I chuckle at his insinuation. "Yeah, you probably worked that shit to death." "God, it was miserable," he mutters, and I laugh as I sip my drink. "Sex really is a fuckin' phenomenal motivator." "I won't argue with you there." He takes another sip of his drink before licking his lips. "What about you, huh?" "What about me?" I ask, amused. "When's the last time you got laid? Prison?" he jokes. I roll my eyes. "I've been keeping busy," I say, distracting myself with my drink. "Busy has two meanings," he says with a grin. "C'mooon, little bro. Tell me." "None of your business," I say with a smirk. "So you HAVE been getting laid," he says, clapping me on the back. "Who's the lucky girl, huh?" Figures the two people I've had sexual contact with since prison are both male. "You wouldn't know her." "Fuck you." I look at him, laughing. "What?" "I give you details, and what do I get in return? Nothin'." "I don't ask for details," I point out. "You give 'em whether or not I wanna hear 'em." "You fuckin' love it," he says before looking at me calculatingly. "Maybe you AREN'T getting laid. Is that it?" I just shrug. It's sort of fun bouncing him around a bit, especially since he'll never know the truth. "Bastard," he mutters before stroking his chin. "What about the receptionist?" I squint, glancing at him. "What about her?" "I saw you eyeing her." I laugh. "I didn't know looking at someone meant I was checking them out." "Well, she's pretty cute, yeah?" I snort. "She looks like she's in high school." "Maybe," he says, "but she's definitely eighteen." I can't help but laugh again. "What, are you an expert on the matter?" "I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing," he says with a grin. "Maybe I can offer her your dick for atonement." I choke on my drink, coughing and punching my chest to get it out of my airpipe. "Sorry, what?" He laughs hard, patting my back. "I'm just trying to get you laid, bro." "Listen," I say, clearing my throat, "focus less on my dick and more on your... everything else." "Alright, alright, sheesh," he says, laughing before he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. "I really should apologize to her, though." He frowns slightly. "I was a dick." "Just a little bit," I say, holding my thumb and index finger a few centimeters apart. "Shit like that just gets me fuckin' fired up, man," he says, shaking his head and focusing on his drink. "I get it," I tell him. "Honestly it was annoying as hell, but you gotta keep your temper in check." "I know," he says quickly, probably sick of hearing it. I try something more supportive. "I noticed you do a little 'Let me take a moment to breathe' thing earlier," I say. "That?" He laughs. "Something my therapist told me to try out." "Therapist?" Is he seeing someone? "Yeah," he says before swallowing. "Don't know if you know, but Tanya and I have been seeing a marriage specialist or whatever." I nod, pretending like I knew nothing about this. "Is it helping?" "Think so," he says. "I just wanna make things work." Then he glances at me, looking the sincerest I've seen him in months. "I can't lose her, bro." I smile, patting and rubbing his back. "You won't." It's nice sitting with Wes and chatting as we sip our drinks. We talk about the old times, our plans for the future, and what's going on in my world before we finish off our second drinks and decide to put a cap on our intake. Wes doesn't want to go overboard anymore, and frankly, I'm feeling tipsy enough from just those two drinks, so I agree. When we get back to the room, Eli's fast asleep, curled up under the blankets and breathing softly. "He's out cold," I say with a chuckle when I check on him. "Guess we should be a little quiet," Wes says, stretching slightly. We do our best as we go through our nightly routine. I head to the "bathroom" first and brush my teeth, and while I'm at the sink, Wesley comes over. "You mind if I shower real quick?" he asks, pointing to the glass box nearby. I shake my head. "Go for it," I say, my words muffled by my toothbrush. I watch as he starts to strip down completely and then steps into the shower, fussing with the valves for a few moments before he figures out how to turn the water on. I chuckle slightly and then head back towards the bed. I just take my pants off and change into a simple t-shirt before climbing in right next to Eli. He took it upon himself to take the middle spot, so I lie down on the side furthest from the shower, resting my eyes. Eli was right: this bed is damn cozy. Because I'm so sleepy and comfortable all of a sudden, I'm only vaguely cognizant of what Wes is doing once he hops out of the shower. I hear him messing around at the sink for a moment before he comes towards the bed, rummages around in his bag, and then swears under his breath. I open one of my eyes and peer over at him. "You good?" "I can't leave this shit anywhere without Eli finding it," Wes says. "He's a damn bloodhound, lately." I'm confused as to what Wesley's referring to until he stands up (completely naked) and holds up a magazine. "I had these at the bottom of my bag. Now they're on top." "Magazines?" He tosses it to me, and when I catch it and glance at the cover, I almost laugh. "You brought porn mags?" Wesley just shrugs. "I've been too horny for my own good," he says, and I roll my eyes. "I thought you got rid of all of them." And by "got rid of them" I mean "gave them all to me." "Tanya made me," he says, "but I hid a few favorites. Here. Check this shit out," he says, grabbing a second magazine from his bag and coming around to my side of the bed. He has a little grin on his face as he flips through a few pages until he finds what he's looking for. Then he folds the magazine and hands it to me. It's a still of a girl getting double penetrated. It's not the most hardcore shot since you don't see any penetration with her facing the camera, but her tits hang low, her lips are opened, and her eyes are slightly rolled back while she straddles one guy and takes another guy from behind. "Doesn't she look like Susie Becker?" Why does that name sound familiar? "Susie Becker?" "My girlfriend from high school." I laugh, suddenly remembering. He dated her for nearly two years. "I hope that's not her." "I do," he says with a chuckle. "She was hot." I notice he makes a couple absentminded grabs at his cock. "Why don't you go perv out in the corner or something?" I tease. He looks at me before grinning and punching my arm. "Kiss my fuckin' ass, dude," he says, laughing before taking the magazine with "Susie Becker" back. He keeps looking at the picture of her before tossing it back in his bag and then gesturing vaguely to it. "I wonder what Eli likes about this shit," Wes says, glancing at me. I shrug. "Probably just the fact that it's sex." Wes shrugs. "Yeah, probably." Then he laughs. "I remember the days. Little fucker's probably beating off more than I ever did." I smile slightly to myself. He's doing much more than that, Wes. I can assure you. I watch as Wesley cuts the lights in the room before starting to climb into bed to get under the covers. I glance at him curiously. "What are you doing?" He pauses. "Uh... Getting into bed?" "You still sleep naked?" I ask. He used to do it as a teenager almost all the time. I didn't know this habit followed him into adulthood. "I can't sleep with clothes on, bro," he says, sliding in next to Eli with a sigh and pulling the blanket over his lower body. "Even in the winter?" "Yup. Otherwise I'm crazy uncomfortable." I just shrug. I wonder just how used to Wes's nudity Eli is. Has he ever looked at his dad the way he looks at me? "Anyway, 'night, man." "G'night," I say softly, setting the porn mag on the nightstand and then closing my eyes. I had the perfect amount of alcohol, and at the perfect time. It's really hitting my system now, but not in an overboard way. It's just enough to make me relaxed and drowsy, and I can feel my body getting heavier as I drift closer and closer to sleep. But minutes later, Wes snaps me out of it. "I can't sleep," he mutters. I sigh. "Isn't that why you got naked?" "Shut up," he says before making a request. "Pass me the magazine." "Seriously?" "Yeah." I arch my eyebrows but do as he asks, grabbing the magazine and then tossing it over to him. In my periphery, even as I lie back down, I can see Wesley leafing slowly through the magazine, but he doesn't turn the light on. The moon is pretty bright tonight, but it's not exactly illuminating the whole room. "Can you even see?" I ask after a while. "A little bit, yeah," Wesley says. Clearly it's enough for him because I can see his hand moving under the blanket, right where his crotch should be. Jesus, he's bold. Must be the alcohol. I'm somewhat exhausted myself, so I try to sleep, but the flipping of pages sounds irritatingly magnified, and every now and then Wes will sigh, still trying to be subtle about jacking off right now. I decide to mess with him. "You itchy or something?" "Fuck off, man," he says, removing his hand from under the blanket. "You're just making a lot of noise, Wes." "Sorry, alright?" He sighs, sounding antsy. "There's nowhere for me to go." "Try the hallway," I joke. "Funny," he says sarcastically. Then I hear him shift a bit. "You mind if I just...?" I sigh. "I don't care, man," I tell him. "Just make it quick so I can sleep." "Alright." I see his hand drift right back down under the blankets to grab himself again. He lets out a long exhale through his nose before he pauses. "You think he'll wake up?" "Eli?" "Yeah." "Nah," I say. If he hasn't woken up by now, he's probably fine. "Cool." Then Wes asks something surprising. "Wanna join me?" "Really?" "Yeah, why not?" he asks before suddenly tossing the magazine back to me. "Here. You take that one." Then he slides out of bed, grabs another magazine for himself (presumably the Susie Becker one), and then gets back under the covers. We don't exchange any words. At first, I'm too surprised to say or even do anything. I mostly half-watch and listen as Wesley's hand goes back under the sheets and starts stroking his cock a little more freely than before. He seems focused on a particular page, holding it up in his hand and staring right at it. I lick my lips slightly. I don't know if the situation is turning me on, what with Eli right in between us, or if Wes's energy is contagious, but I'm starting to feel a little horny myself. Hesitantly, I reach into my boxers and wrap my fingers slowly around my member, and as soon as I do, blood starts pumping to my dick. Keeping my dick in my underwear, I slowly stroke myself to hardness. This is so weird. Just the other day, I jerked off with another man for the first time, and now I'm doing it with my brother? What's going on? I take the magazine and flip through it vaguely, looking for a decent page to jack off to. Something about the stills don't excite me much, though. I'm not one for pictures. I like things to be in motion. Part of me wishes we could be watching Vince's tapes right now, because nothing in this magazine is really grabbing my cock's attention. Before I can settle on something, Wes sets his magazine down and asks me to tell him about Ruth. I pause, also putting my porn mag down and looking towards him. "Ruth?" "Yes, Ruth." "...Why?" "She's the one you're fucking, right?" he asks. I laugh. "We're not--" "I just want some details." "Nothing's happening, Wes." "Oh come on," he says. "There's huge amounts of sexual tension between you two." "So?" "So? When you gonna bed her, bro? At the New Year's party?" Shit, I almost forgot about that. There's a small New Year's Eve get-together at Wes's, where we're all going to hang out and watch the ball drop on TV. Ruth and Jimmy were both invited. "At least give me something, man," Wes says when I don't respond, "about whoever you've been messing with." I lick my lips. Maybe I can finesse this so that he gets what he wants and I don't have to completely lie. "If I tell you, you can't ask specifics," I tell him. "About who they are." "Okay," he says, clearly excited to hear about his little brother's endeavors. "I mean it, man," I say. "It's super discreet." "I'll behave," he says. "C'mon, man, spill." I breathe in and start talking, slowly stroking myself as I do. "I met her when I got back," I tell him. "What's her name?" he asks immediately. Already? "Dude. I told you. No details." "Right, sorry, sorry," he says, waving me off with the hand that's not wrapped around his dick. "Keep going." "Anyway," I say, closing my eyes and focusing on the details. "She's sweet. Cute as fuck. Dirty blond hair, big, beautiful eyes, perfect lips--" "Tits?" To appease him, I say "Huge. Natural, too." "Fuck yeah." "Not a hair on her body, either." "Mmf," Wes groans, and I sense him stroking faster. "That's fuckin' hot." "She's a hot little thing, man," I say, picturing Eli the first time I saw him naked. My cock throbs as I envision his backside, those white globes, the tight, pink pucker hidden between them. "She looks innocent on the outside, but..." Wes laughs. "Not so innocent otherwise?" "Definitely not," I tell him, giving my dick a firm squeeze. I start to work my hips into it a bit. "She's a total cock whore. She loves sucking cock. First time fooled around, she wouldn't let me up until she got every drop of my fucking load. Swallowed every bit of it." "Jeeesus," Wes drawls, moaning softly. "You fuck her?" "Yeah." I bite my lip. "Only thing she likes more than blowing me is having me fuck her tight little ass." "Motherfucker," Wes grunts, clearly liking the sound of that. "She's into that?" "Very." "God, I'd kill to do anal," Wes says, working his dick much faster now. "Imagine how fuckin' tight it'd be to sink into some--" But then we both stop, because Eli groans and stirs. When he does, I blink a few times. It's like I was in a trance, talking like that, because that sort of intense locker room talk never comes from me. Damn. Maybe the bartender upped the dosage a bit. Maybe Wes is just rubbing off on me. "Eli?" Wes asks. No response. "Keep talking, bro," Wes says after a few moments, figuring the coast is clear. I notice he's already jacking off again. I swallow thickly. Where even was I? What were we talking about? "Uhh... What?" "The chick who likes it in the ass?" he says. "Right." I keep talking, talking multiple leaves out of Wes's book and talking about this pretend girl the way he does when he talks about his sex life. But knowing that I'm really telling him about his son is what makes this really erotic for me. It keeps my cock throbbing to hear Wes talk about how hot she sounds. If only he knew it was Eli. "Why can't you tell me who it is?" he asks. "I promised I'd keep it a secret," I say. "If her family ever found out..." "What, is she religious or something?" Sure, let's go with that. "Yeah. Very." "Fuck, you're nailing a Catholic chick or something?" "Yeah." "Fuck, man, that's awesome," he says. "Like fucking the bishop's daughter or some shit. Damn, that's sexy." We both stop exchanging words for a bit, focusing on our dicks. I notice Wes has whipped his out from under the covers, so it makes me feel better about pushing the blanket down and pulling mine out. I was getting hot under there, and now it feels even better. Fuck, why am I so hard right now? I lick my lips, my toes curling slightly. And then I remember Eli. He's right next to me. I discreetly slide my hand under the blanket and reach over to him. When I feel my fingers touch his bare inner thigh, my cock throbs, and I let the tips of my fingers nudge against the bulge in his briefs. "Getting close," I mutter. "Me too," Wes says, exhaling deeply. Slowly, gradually, my orgasm builds right alongside my brother's, and I don't know if it's perfectly timed, but for the most part, we seem to cum at the same time. I tense up and he grunts, and I lift my shirt to spill my load over my stomach. My eyes roll back as I gasp out in pleasure, my body tingling with excitement. I get that dazed feeling whenever I cum while inebriated, and I blink a few times so that my eyes can focus. I pant slightly once I finish, a gentle smile on my lips. I'm sure Wes feels the same way: relieved. He even lets out a little post-orgasmic chuckle. But then, Eli's voice breaks the silence, using that same word he used in response to the suite: "Whoa."