Date: Sun, 19 Apr 2009 11:57:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Connors <patriotspectre@yahoo.com>
Subject: Six Irish Brothers - Chapter 9: The Merry, Mad Month of May, Part I

Six Irish Brothers - Chapter 9: The Merry, Mad Month of May, Part I

Story Codes: B/b, T/b, inc

Disclaimer and Acknowledgments:

The story you are about to read is true. These events happened and though
some details have been skewed slightly to obscure the identities of the
real persons involved, the events, relationships and substance of the tale
have not been altered. Much of the material in this story is pornographic
in nature, dealing with incest, teenage and preteen sex, gay themes, and so
forth. If you are under 18, or it is illegal in your area to read this
material, then stop now, and go Google something wholesome.

(Re)Introduction:

Wow. It's been a mad two and a half years since I wrote chapter 8. I'm
still getting emails to this day from folks who want to know what happens
next, where I disappeared to, and all that. Well, here's the next bit of
the saga of me and my brothers. I hope to get back to this on a regular
basis, and at least get out one chapter a month.

This chapter is oversized, to hopefully make up at least a little for the
interminable wait. There is also a lot of sex play. Let me say that in this
chapter, I've embellished some of the details of the sex, but the basics,
and who did what with whom, all that is straight from memory. Things are
just a little more...intense, in this version. Some of that is intentional,
but I think most of it is because it's been filtered through a haze of
nostalgia.

There will be much more to come. I know what I'm writing about next, so
Chapter 10 (Part II of this segment) should be out soon. Probably won't be
quite this long, though. :-)

-----

Chapter 9: The Merry, Mad Month of May, Part I

May 1996

In the weeks after what we came to think of as "The Storm," Ben continued
to come out of his shell, in so many ways. He was so much more open, and
comfortable, like he had finally realized that everything would really be
okay. With that feeling, he started making more friends at school. He still
got into scrapes, too, but he (mostly) wasn't picking the fights
himself. He was usually sticking up for someone else. And he and I even
both joined Little League. Our team was pretty bad, and I was one of the
worst second basemen in history, but Ben was having fun as shortstop. I
tried very hard not to think of how good he looked in the uniform. Most of
the time it didn't work, and staring at him, daydreaming, probably accounts
for at least half of my missed plays.  Sean was having fun, too. Now that
he had a driver's license and a car to go with it, it was like we had a new
lease on life. He'd been saving for years, and managed to scrape a thousand
together to buy an old beater (I remember it was a Dodge something) from
our neighbors a few blocks down. It was a deep green, with a half-faded
racing stripe, and I thought the blasted thing was flippin' ugly, but I
never would have said that to Sean. He was so proud of it. I knew it was
doing wonders for his love life, too. He was a one-woman man (one at a
time, at least), but Sean was definitely bisexual, and there were always at
least a few guys he'd fool around with at any given time. When it came to
ladies, especially Sarah, Sean wasn't the type to kiss and tell; but with
his guys, he let the details fly. In either case, I knew Sean's new back
seat was well-broken in after a few weeks.

April had turned to May, but the rain really hadn't left yet. It seemed
like it had been raining for a solid week, and it was still freezing cold,
and Greg was on a business trip. He had been away for a few days already,
and it seemed like the rain came in almost as soon as he left. For some
reason, I don't remember a lot of details about those days, mainly the
rain, and little Adam snuggled on my lap, watching the droplets trail down
the window pains. I'd read to him from Little Golden Books and Dr. Seuss,
and we'd sit and watch the rain, in the room we called the sun porch. On
the floor in front of us, Sean, Ben and Nate would play Nertz or Egyptian
Ratscrew or some other card game. Sometimes when Adam was napping, I'd play
chess with Sean or Ben. Other times, we'd all have to come up with
different ways to entertain Walt. Just a month shy of his sixth birthday,
he was insanely hyper, and going stir-crazy. Sean and Nate would play
lightsabers with him, while Ben and I would just simply chase him around
from room to room in a vain effort to wear out that fire-haired tornado.

Along with Nathan and Adam, Walt's among the most classically "Irish
looking" of all of us. Flame red hair, sea green eyes, and a smattering of
freckles around his nose. Going on six, he was a cute kid, with a
mischievous streak a mile wide even then. We'd find out later he was
borderline ADD, but for all his manic energy and pretended stupidity, he
has one of the brightest, most inquisitive minds I've ever
encountered. Between that bright mind and his even brighter smile, he could
charm the fuzz off a peach even at that tender age. Even when he'd be
warping around the house, colliding with this chair or that table, making a
royal mess and annoying the hell out of us, we could never stay mad at him
for long. He could be a pain, but he was never mean-spirited or
malicious. Whenever he got in trouble, it was almost always because he lept
from impulse to action without any thought in between, just looking for
fun, but not making fun of anyone. So we tolerated his antics because
though he was a pain, he was such a damned cute pain, and he knew it.

There's one incident with Walt I do remember well from that rainy week in
early May. It was late afternoon, homework was finished. Adam was on my
lap, mumbling along while I read "Oh the Places You'll Go" to him. Sean and
Ben were at the game table, playing chess. We had opened the inner door,
letting a mild breeze through screen door into the room. Except for the
tap-tap of the rain, everything was quiet, and just as I was starting to
realize that it was *too* quiet, Nathan came running into the room as if
the dogs of hell were after him. It wasn't that far from the truth.

Adam and I looked up sharply from the book, and Sean and Ben stood from the
chess table.

"Look alive, mates," Nathan shouted, and he dove for cover behind my chair.

Before we could really get a handle on it, all hell broke lose as Walt came
bounding in, riding -- actually *riding* -- Fintan, our dog. When I say
dog, that doesn't really cover it. He was a mutt, but we knew there was a
lot of Golden Retriever, St. Bernard and some wolfhound in him. His fur was
golden-red, except for white patches on his chest and legs and a black
"mask" over one eye. On all fours, he was over three feet tall, and nearly
six when he stood on his hind legs. As big and imposing as he was, he was
very gentle. The usual adjectives we used to describe him were "friendly,"
"loveable" and "soft," but now "huge," "clumsy" and "scared" ran through my
mind.

And it was easy to see why, even galloping as they were. Little Wally gave
a cowboy yell and fired his cap gun six shooters with a smoky *pop-pop*
that made poor Fintan yelp. Almost like a bucking bronco, he skirted around
the sofa and towards Sean and Ben, looking for help I can only imagine.

"Walt, get off him!" Sean cried out, and Ben said "Whoa partner, easy,
easy," holding out his hands in the signal that Fintan knew meant "stop."

But it was too late, and things seemed to move in slow motion as in my
mind's eye I saw carnage on the horizon. I scooped Adam up in my arms --
the wee man was laughing like a loon -- and backed up to the far wall. From
the corner of my eye, I saw Nate peeking over the arm of the vacated chair.

Wally and Fin kept going, though I'm sure the poor dog wanted to stop with
all his canine heart. They crashed into the table, sending chess pieces
flying in all directions as Ben and Sean flung themselves out of the
way. To the dog and his mad passenger, it was only a glancing blow and
Fintan pinwheeled around. That didn't quite knock Wally off -- at that
point, I had no idea how Walt was managing to stay on his mount -- but it
did send his cowboy hat and one six-shooter flying. The toy gun landed on
the hearth, and already cocked, it sent out another cracking "pop" as the
cap fired.

That was the last straw for the good Saint Fintan. He bolted. Straight for
the screen door. It was then that I saw Wally half-heartedly try to reign
in the charging canine. It was no good, and I think Walt knew it, because
he lowered himself, wrapping one arm around Fin's thick neck, and called
out "yippee!" as they plunged through the lower half of the screen
door. The thin cross brace missed Walt's head by centimeters.

In my arms, Adam was laughing with a mix of glee and shock, and Nathan
squeezed between me and the trashed door. The three of us saw Fintan bounce
down the six porch steps, Walt jiggling and giggling on his back. As his
paws touched the garden grass the great big dog stopped dead in his tracks
and gave a great big shake. *That* finally sent Walt rolling off Fin's
back, and he landed in a deep mud puddle, squealing. It was only then that
I noticed some kind of tether, now broken, that had connected boy to
dog. Two strands hung from Fintan's collar, flapping about his back in the
breeze, and I guessed that Wally had tied it around his waist. 'Thank God
he didn't put it through his belt loops,' I thought ridiculously, still not
fully processing everything that had just happened.

"Judas, Mary and Joseph," Ben said as he and Sean, having picked themselves
up, stood by me and Nathan in the doorway.

Free of his burden, Fintan seemed quite content, and up until that point, I
had been more worried about him than my brother. The realization that Walt
could be hurt was only just dawning in my mind as Sean called out to
him. "Walt, buddy, you okay?"

"Yup!" Walt said, and waved. He was sitting up in the mud pool -- it was
too big to be called a puddle -- and he was covered in wet grass and brown
muck. I shouldn't have been astonished, but I was. My little brother, my
absolutely *mental* little brother, had just charged through a screen door
on our dog's back like Teddy Roosevelt taking San Juan Hill (thank "Arsenic
& Old Lace" for that comparison), and now he was sitting arse deep in mud
in the middle of a rainstorm, and he acted as if all this was a perfectly
normal day at the park. Adam had stopped laughing by now, and I absently
passed the wee man into Sean's arms. I started to open the door, planning
to go out there and drag Walt back in by the scruff of his neck.

As if reading my thoughts, Ben laid a hand on my shoulder and just said,
"Give him a minute, Tim." His turn to restrain me, this time.

I relaxed, and watched as Walt started digging around in the mud, looking
for his cap gun. He found it, and I heard him say "Gotcha now" as he
leveled the dripping weapon at Fintan, who just cocked his head. Oblivious
to the rain and muck, he thumbed the hammer back and pulled the
trigger. His triumphant smile turned to a frown as the "pop" he expected
was barely an impotent, soggy "click." He and Fintan stared at each other
for a moment, Fin's ears pricked, Wally weighing his options. It looked
like some twisted scene from a Tim Burton-inspired revisionist western.

And then the standoff broke. Walt started to move the gun, probably to
check the chamber, but instantly, Fin's giant paw slammed down on his
wrist, and Walt dropped the "weapon," yelling "Awww, no fair, Fintan!"

Ben and I chuckled while Sean called out "Good boy, Fin. You got him now!"

As if that was the go-ahead signal he'd been waiting for, Fintan suddenly
ducked and butted his massive head into Walt's chest, knocking him flat,
and splattering mud and muck over both of them. Walt rolled out of the
mudhole and started crawling away, but Fin bounded over and started licking
his face. In a fit of giggles, Walt stopped moving away, and Fin took this
as his cue to lie down, spreading himself across Walt's back. The two made
a rather funny looking "X," and all of us, Adam included, bust out into
howling laughter.

Fin absently licked the back of Walt's neck, and the boy still giggled
madly. Wriggling out from under the nonplussed dog, Walt struggled to his
hands and knees, and then to his feet, tipsy with laughter. His clothes
were caked through with mud that globbed and ran down in rivulets as the
rain fell on him. He looked around, and then turned his face to the sky,
sticking out his tongue to catch raindrops.

The moment was both absurd and serene, and as if in a trance, Wally pulled
his mud-caked cowboy shirt over his head and let it fall to the ground. His
bare chest was clean, save for around the nape of his neck, where his shirt
had been open. Slowly, he brought his hands down to his waist, and wiggled
his hips, pushing down on his denim shorts.

"He's going to..." I started, then just said, "Walt, don't do that."

I have no idea if Walt heard me, but this time this time it was Sean that
held me back. "Let him have his moment, Eeyore. Look, he's almost *still*."

And it was true. My eyes goggled as I realized the implications. Yes, Wally
was standing outside in the rain; yes, he was half-naked and half-covered
in mud; and yes, he had just made a wreck inside and broken through a
screen door, while tormenting our family dog. And no, he wasn't still in
the sense of not moving at all.  But his movements were slow and
deliberate, and yes, serene. What a contrast to the manic mentaller he
usually was. At that moment, none of us wanted to break the spell.

So the four of us -- Sean, Ben, Nathan and me -- stood clustered in the
doorway, with Adam, quiet in Sean's arms, head on shoulder, thumb in
mouth. We watched with rapt attention as Walt wriggled out of his cutoffs,
and stepped out of them. His Spider-Man underwear was all that defended him
against the elements, and within seconds, it was soaked through. In another
fluid motion, Walt peeled the red and blue briefs down his legs and side
stepped again.

Our little brother stood naked in the rain in our back yard, and we
watched. He spread his arms like Andy Dufresne, face upturned, and slowly
moved in a circle. He was lost in a world of his own (well, he always was,
but you get what I mean), and we were nearly swept along with him. It was
half a minute or more before I heard any of us breathe.

Walt kept swinging in circles, turning faster and faster. My brother was
always a kind of whirling dervish, but now he really looked like one (minus
the tunics and turbans). It was almost hypnotic. I gulped when I realized
that Wally's wang had stiffened, and exchanged a glance with Sean and
Ben. I don't think either of us wanted to think about the implications of
*that* just yet.

Meanwhile, Fintan seemed transfixed, too. The big, loveable oaf didn't mind
the rain at all and just laid in the grass, head cocked, watching Walt. He
didn't even move out of the way as Walt swung toward him with his eyes
closed and tongue out to collect droplets. Ben and I saw it coming,
though. Another quick twirl, and Walt's leg collided with Fin's flank and
the boy went flying with a startled "whooaaaaa." He landed in a heap almost
back in the giant mud puddle.

The dog barely yelped, used to such collisions as a matter of course with
Wally, but he did go over to where the boy was sprawled. "That was
awesome!" we heard Walt call out, either to himself, Fin, or to let us know
he was okay. I looked at Sean and he just shrugged with an amused
half-grin. Walt rolled over then, and I caught another glimpse of his
still-prominent erection, chiding myself as I did. Fin was licking his
face, and when Walt gently pushed the giant away, Fintan bounded back,
crouching in the position that meant "wrestle now? yeah yeah wanna
wrestle." Walt laughed and charged him and they went rolling over each
other. This time they did land in the mud puddle, and Walt's creamy white
skin suddenly took on earth tones, literally.

I found myself laughing along with Sean and Ben, and then there was
movement in front of me. Nathan bent low and crouch-walked through the
busted screen door. At this point, I was in no mood to stop anyone anymore,
and we older boys (and Adam) watched as eight-year-old Nate ran out to meet
Wally and Fin, stripping as he went.

Glancing around, I was glad for the trees that lined our property and the
distance between our house and the neighbors. Ben laughed and slapped his
knee as the now bare-arsed Nathan slammed into Walt, and they fell back
into the mud. Fintan looked confused for a moment, and then moved in
between them, separating the boys. He nuzzled Nate and then batted a paw at
Walt. The gesture was like saying "have fun horsing around but don't hurt
yourselves."

I looked up at Sean again, and saw he was rocking Adam, who was quickly was
falling asleep. "Should we stop them?" I asked.

"We probably should," he said, then gave me that half-smile again, "but
they're not hurting anything, and who's going to see? Let them have
fun. We'll get 'em cleaned up later."

The boys and the dog were still rolling madly in the mud, wrestling and
throwing sticks which Fin bounded after, always returning it to them with a
heavy shake that sprayed water over them both. The garden was starting to
look like a well-abused rugby field.

Ben was smiling. "Looks like fun," he said. I heard a trace of wistfulness
in his voice that I'm sure he didn't notice himself. A longing tone,
longing for the childhood he'd lost.

Sean picked up on it, too. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, Benji."

He looked up sharply, eyes wide, then caught Sean's drift and a smlie
creeped across his face. "You think I should?"

"Yeah. Go play."

"What about you guys?" he asked, taking off his shirt.

I winced, and let out a small hiss. Sean almost looked sheepish for a
moment. "Just you go. We, uh, would have something *hard* to explain..."
Looking at Sean, I could see he was starting to tent, too.

Ben nodded, then paused. "I'm not... but what if ... I mean, I might pop
one by accident and..."

"Innocent is innocent, Benj," Sean said, "and nature happens if it does."

I nodded in agreement. "Starting out that way is just...different. Plus, if
all three of us were out there..."

Ben smiled. "I get you... I think..." He shrugged, then winked, and then
dropped his pants and boxers in one motion. I tried not to stare, but I did
see he was...totally calm. Sean held the door open for him, and we all
laughed as he ran outside with a rebel yell of "Erin Goes Bra-less!"

Sean just shook his head, and watched for another minute, before he said,
"I'm going to put Adam to bed. Hold down the fort." I nodded, not taking my
eyes off the field of battle, until he spoke again. "Do you want to go out
there?"

My throat was dry, and I had to fight the urge to lick my lips. I didn't
want to send that kind of message. "Yes," I said glumly, "but if I did,
with him..."

Sean patted my shoulder. "I know. Sometime, Eeyore. It'll be okay."

I turned back as he walked toward the hall way, chuckling when I heard him
curse as he stepped on one of the spilled chess pieces. I did walk through
the door, but only to lean on against the porch pillar as I watched, a soft
spray from the deflected rain washing over me. My eyes were glued on Ben,
not thinking of him sexually (not entirely anyhow), but seeing, in those
moments of naked abandon, the boyhood that had been stolen from him. The
scars of his past, physical and metaphysical, were obscured by the
rain. That caustic cloak he wore to keep people away was thrown to the
wind, and he was a kid again, really and truly. As if he'd never had to
grow up too soon.

Eventually, like Walt's trance, that spell was broken, too. Or at least
diminished. He didn't put the cloak back on, but I grew accustomed to the
view, I suppose, and saw how gently he treated the wee ones. They were
wrestling, shoving, pushing and pulling, but Ben was as gentle as Fin was,
like a big dog himself. Walt was on his back now, arms around Ben's neck,
legs akimbo. Nate was rolling on his back along with Fin, kicking his long
legs in the air, his wavy strawberry blond hair plastered to his
forehead. I rolled my eyes as he got up and put one of Fin's sticks in his
mouth, racing off with the dog in hot pursuit.

Sean came back and stood next to me, one arm around my shoulder. "Look at
them," he said. I was.

"Can you be my horse now, Benji?" Walt asked. Ben said, "Sure thing, wee
man," and Walt straightened on his back, as if in a saddle. Ben did his
best horse impression, and loped around, Walt bouncing and struggling to
hold onto his rain-slick back. "Whoa Silver!" Walt shouted after a few
minutes, and Ben stopped. Wally's face was upturned again, and I thought he
was going to zone out again. "Okay, buddy?" I heard Ben ask.

Walt's eyes were closed, and rain fell on his face, but he was still
there. "Hold still, horsey," he said.

Ben looked up at us, and we shrugged. Then Walt squeezed his legs against
Ben's sides, and said, "Hold still" again. Then he thrust his hips, sliding
forward on Ben's back, his butt clenching. He repeated the maneuver and I
felt a knot form in my stomach.

Walt was getting another feeling altogether, the three of us knew. Should
we stop him? Should Ben shake him off or start going again? By now, Nathan
was back with Fin, petting the dog's back and watching with curiosity, as
his little brother humped against his big brother's back. Sean and I looked
at each other, at Ben, and back to each other. Sean's pseudo-parenting
skills didn't cover this scenario, and though my mind raced, it was going
nowhere. Ben just froze. All three of us were at a loss.

Meanwhile, Walt's face was a picture of intense concentration. The tip of
his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth, his eyes were closed, his
face scrunching up a little each time he thrust his hips forward. It was
clear what was happening. the wee man's wee little wiener was hard as a
nail and he was sliding it up and down the small of Ben's back. A half
dozen thrusts went by, and Wally increased pressure each time. I saw Ben's
own erection was pulsing with his heartbeat, and a rivulet of rain trickled
down from the tip.

"It's like our pillows," we heard Nathan whisper, looking up at us. "He
rubs on his pillow a lot. Feels good," he added a moment later. Whether he
knew it or not, Nate's hand was wrapped around his own cute cock. Sean and
I just nodded, getting more pictures in our brains than either one of us
wanted. We looked back at Walt and Ben.

Walt was jabbing his cock along Ben's back, and Ben was starting to raise
and lower his back, almost like pushups. His head was down between his
arms, I could see him biting his lip, eyes fixed on Nate, innocently
wanking, with his head on Fin's broad side. Walt was practically panting
like Fin himself now, lost inside his own head again. Another few hip
thrusts, and then it happened.

Wally's hands flew out to the sides, and he started to tremble, mouth open
in a silent gasp. A mix of drool and rain dribbled down his chin, and he
started to moan, "oh...oh... ooooo..." Then he collapsed on Ben's back,
still twitching for another full minute.

He opened his eyes dreamily, and slid off his big brother, sitting next to
Ben, cross legged. Walt now project an aura of calmness I had never seen
before, never would have imagined possible. My mind struggled around the
word "transcendent." He locked eyes with Ben, who was blushing turnip red
all over, and said, "Kewwwwl." Breaking into a grin, he added, "That was
way more cool than my bed." Then he hugged Ben's neck and went over to sit
by Fintan, on the other side from Nathan, who watched the whole scene as
Sean and I did, in mute wonder.

The difference being of course, Nate was naked, boned and wet from the
rain. I had no idea if he knew any of this was sexual, but I was damn sure
Walt didn't.

When Walt moved away from him, Ben exhaled a strangled sounding breath, and
Sean and I saw shame seeping into his face. And we thought *we* were
embarrassed. Guilt warred with arousal for all of us.

It was Nathan who broke the ice. Innocently, he walked over to Ben, and I
watched his little dick bounce. Ben got an "oh hell" look, and went from
turnip to lobster. He didn't say a word as Nathan took Walt's place on the
saddle of his back, his toes dangling far enough to touch the grass. He
started sliding back and forth, letting out little moans.

"Fuck," Sean said under his breath, gripping my shoulder.

'In for tuppence,' I thought, but I think I managed not to say it.

It didn't take Nate long. Whether the little guy thought of it as sex or
not, he was horned. A minute of thrusting, and when his dry cum took him,
he shook almost as much as the wee Wally had. At nearly the same time, I
saw Ben's cock twitch, and pulse, and spew his spunk onto the grass.

"Fuck," I said, echoing Sean. He'd never even touched it.

When I came back to myself, I saw Ben was crying, and Nate had slid down
next to him, hugging his arm. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," Ben was
muttering over and over.

Nate didn't know why Ben should be crying. I could see it in his face. As
one, Sean and I moved down to the lawn. Now the rain felt cold, pelting my
head. I looked over at Walt, he was sound asleep, face down and sucking his
thumb. Watched over by Fintan.

As much as I wanted to reach for Ben, something held me back, so I scooped
naked Nathan into my arms, balancing him on my side. Sean knelt by Ben,
wrapped his arms around him, and Ben held on as if for dear life. "I'm
sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating. Sean just shushed him and
said, "Nothing's wrong, Ben. Nothing's wrong, and if anything is, it's my
fault, not yours."

Nate whispered in my ear. "Did Walt and I do something bad?"

I shook my head. "No, little buddy. Just a surprise."

"But why's Ben crying, Tim? I'm real sorry."

"Shh, Nay. No worries now, okay?"

He slid from my grip and went to hug Ben. I didn't hold him back, and Sean
didn't either. Nathan hugged Benji hard, and Ben's sobs slowly ebbed to
intermittent blubbering. After what seemed like an age of the earth, Nate
let go, and Ben collapsed back onto Sean, whose short, dark hair glistened
with droplets. They caught the light, as did the drops on Ben's
shoulders. For a moment, I thought it was angel dust.

Then Nate was at my side, holding my hand. I looked down at him, and said,
"Go take Walt inside. Start the bathtub." He nodded, and, tall for his age,
lifted the still sleeping Walt. The wee man mumbled, but went back to
sucking his thumb. Nate took him towards the house, and Fintan followed.

Ben was breathing heavily, caught between sorrow and afterglow. I plopped
down on the soggy ground next to them. "What a mess," Ben said.

"We'll clean up the house," I said.

"And the rain will take care of *your* mess," Sean chimed in, which earned
him a glare from me and an elbow in the ribs from Ben.

"I'm sorry, fellas," he said. "I thought I wouldn't...go there."

"Nature happens," I said, echoing Sean's earlier comment.

"Yeah but that was kinda too 'natural," Ben said, smirking. He was trying
to cover up how he felt with sarcasm. Typical.

Sean slapped the back of his head. Not hard. Just a "get real" tap. "No it
wasn't, diphead. The little guys are happy, and don't really know what
happened. They just had a horsey-ride-pillow-hump and feel jazzed." He
looked into Ben's eyes. "And you just reacted the way *anybody*
would. Dude... I spunked my shorts."

I looked at him, not realizing that until just then. I absently rubbed my
shoulder, and he nodded. "Jeez," I said, throwing up my hands and rolling
my eyes in mock disgust. "Am I the only one that didn't fire off a round?"

We all thought of Walt's cap gun that had started this whole ball rolling,
and the three of us broke into giggles.

After the fit eased up, Ben said again, "Guys, I really am sorry about it."

We both slapped him that time. "Get over it. They already have."

I asked the question that was on all our minds. "What happens when they're
older?"

"Whatever happens," Sean said. "If anything else ever does, it's in their
time. We never start it. *Never*."

Ben sat up then, and eyed both of us. "Yeah, and we need to promise
that. Right now. I mean it."

"Right," I said. I knew where Ben's insistence was coming from, and I knew
Sean did, too. We felt the same way, but our feelings couldn't match the
depth and fervor that coursed through Ben at that moment. We hadn't lived
through what he had.

Sean put out his hand. "We, Sean, Ben and Tim pledge from this moment that
we will never start anything sexual with our little brothers, Nathan,
Walter and Adam Connors."

I put my hand overtop his. "When they're ready -- if they ever are -- we
will let them come to us first."

And Ben placed his right hand over mine, cupping Sean's below with his
left. "We pledge to keep them safe. We pledge to...to never force
them. Ever."

He didn't need to add that last, because he knew we never would, but I knew
it was important to him. A kind of absolution. I put my other hand over
his. "We vow this before each other, and before God."

"Before God," Ben and Sean both said. Then Sean slapped his left hand on
top of the pile, and shook it. "We swear it."

That business done, we all took a deep breath, and looked up at the
sky. Twilight was here, and the rain had not stopped, but it had
eased. Sean and I were as drenched as the others, and probably felt worse
because of our wet clothes. Sean and I got up first, and helped Ben to his
feet. We picked up the scattered clothes, stood on the porch, and wrung
them out. We laughed a little as I wrung Walt's Spider-Man underoos, and
water poured out like a tap. I tossed them to Ben. "These might almost fit
you." He threw them right back in my face, and Sean head-slapped us both,
laughing.

Walking inside, we all remembered the chaos in the sun porch. Now it was
even worse, with wet muddy dog tracks making their way down the hall.

Sean muttered "Thank God for hardwood floors." He looked at us. "We need to
get out of these wet clothes. Don't get any ideas," he added,
winking. "Then you guys find Fintan, hose him down and dry him off."

Sean and I stripped, and I saw the drying pearls of his cum in his pubic
hair. My own dick had deflated, but started filling out again, just a
little. Ben noticed and nudged me.

We took the wet clothes into the laundry room, and Sean put them in the
sink, running water to get the worst of the mud off before we could put
them in the washing machine.

"You find Fintan," Sean said to us, "and I'll make sure those two little
hump toads are okay in the bath. And hose yourselves off while you're at
it!" He added that last as we parted ways, halfway down the hall.

Ben and I followed the dog tracks, like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson on
the trail of the Hound of the Baskervilles. "The game's afoot," I said, and
Ben giggled, thinking the same thing.

Still naked and dripping a little, we found Fin curled up on top his towel
in his bed in the den. He looked at us, thumped his tail twice, but then
realized we'd come to take him for a bath. This did not bode well. Ten
minutes of struggle later, we got him in the garage, and Ben held him while
I went outside to get the hose. It was dark enough, and we were far enough
away from any other houses that I wasn't worried about being seen.

The rain had started going again, and I shivered a little even though it
was a warm evening. I padded around the side of the garage and unwound the
hose. Just as I turned on the water, I heard a voice behind me.

"Uhhh, Tim...?"

I jumped and spun, half ducking to cover myself. And then I laughed when I
saw it was Drew DelVecchio. He had on a windbreaker with the hood pulled
up, and was staring at me. "I came over the back way," he said, thumbing
over his shoulder to the back fence, and beyond it "The Woods," a long
copse of trees and ferns that separated his house from mine. "You're
naked," he added as an afterthought.

"Yeah, uh... Mmm'kay," I said. "We got muddy. Gonna wash off Fintan." I
turned around and started walking back to the garage's side door."Wait here
a sec, ok?"

I went inside, and explained the situation to Benji and his quirked
eyebrow. He looked at my naked body, considered his, then
shrugged. "Nothing he hasn't seen before," Ben said.

I nodded and poked my head outside again. Drew was standing right where I'd
left him. "Come on in. Fair warning, Ben's going to wash off, too." I hoped
my meaning was clear.

"Uh, okay," Drew said. "Just be glad Saint didn't come with me tonight."
The thought of Drew's younger brother walking into the situation tonight
was a little more than I could bear and I giggled again. Frank, Patrick
Francis, whom we called Saint, was ten. Older than Nathan but younger than
us by two years. I stopped just short of picturing him having a "horsey
ride." At least after walking in on my blowjob session with Sean almost six
months before, Drew had gotten used to finding some, er, eccentricities at
my house. Not to mention we'd had a few "eccentric" moments of our own, and
I knew that Drew shared those with Ben, too.

Walking into the garage, Drew smiled and waved as if seeing Ben starkers
holding a wet dog was par for the course. "Hey, Fin," he said, smiling at
the stricken-looking dog. "Hi, Benji," he added. And then, "And hi, Peter."

It took me a second, but I laughed, and Ben blushed, then chuckled. "Join
the club, Doodle," he said, falling back on the tolerated nickname.

"Maybe," Drew said and turned to me. "Want a hand?"

I passed him the hose, then stood next to Fin, on the opposite side from
Ben.

Drew asked if we were ready. I nodded. "Let 'er rip," Ben said, and Drew
squeezed the trigger. A fine spray of water enveloped us, and then Drew
turned the nozzle to "stream" and the spray became a concentrated jet,
which stung only mildly when it hit us. The mud slipped from Ben's body and
mine, and we took turns holding Fintan and turning him around to get a 360
degree hosedown. The water ran down our bodies and made small streamlets
across slightly slanted floor to the drain in the center.

As we finished up, our bare butts were to the door to the house when it
opened. Drew released the trigger and we turned around. Sean stood in the
doorway, head down, toweling off his hair. He was still naked, too. "You
guys finished with Fin yet?" he said, only then looking up and catching
sight of Drew. "Ahh!" he exclaimed, reflexively dropping the towel to cover
his junk. "Uh, hiya, Drew."

"Hey, Sean," Drew said with total, crystal calm. He jerked his chin at
Sean's towel. "Been there, seen that, man. Gee, I just didn't realize
tonight was suddenly Nudist Tuesday."

"YOu don't know the half of it, man. It's a long story," Sean said. He gave
a shrug, imperceptible to everyone but me, and tossed the towel our
way. Ben caught it, and started drying Fintan's back. His burnt gold fur
fluffed out all over, and then he shook himself, spraying more water over
Ben, Drew and me. "Ewww," we said on instinct. As Ben and I dried Fin off,
Sean talked with Drew.

"You guys were gonna hang out tonight?"

"Yeah," Drew replied. "Is that...still okay?"

"Sure. The last hour or two have just been crazy. But hey, with Walt, it's
always crazy."

"Speaking of Walt and Nate," I said, and dropped the sopping wet towel on
the floor. "Did they finish their bath?"

Sean nodded, "Yeah. Took some doing, like usual. But they're clean, dry and
snug in their beds." He shrugged. "For now. Who knows if they'll wake up in
the middle of the night and hump their pillows."

Drew raised his eyebrows. "Part of the long story?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "We, uh, should probably get dressed."

"Or I should just join the club," said Drew suddenly. "I mean, I got wet
when Fin shook off. My clothes can dry out here." It was an exaggeration,
but I wasn't going to point it out.

Sean and I just looked at each other. He shrugged, then I shrugged. That
particular motion was getting a lot of play this evening. Meanwhile, Ben
clapped Drew on the back. "Whatever you say, mate."

I was glad to see Ben this comfortable with the whole thing. From his near
breakdown earlier to Drew's unexpected (or rather, forgotten) arrival, I
was sure he was gonna clam up. There was a time not too long before when he
would have rather hidden under his bed than let Drew see him shirtless. But
he knew we just accepted his scars as part of him, and that trust extended
to Drew and his many siblings.

And so there we were, three naked brothers standing by while their friend
stripped down first to his skivvies, then nude. Drew and the DeeVees as we
called them were like extended family to us, so somehow, it just fit with
the already...heightened tone of the day. The more the nakeder, or
something like that.

As he stood there, I took stock of him. Not the first time I'd seen him
naked, but now I really looked. Andrew Dylan DelVecchio was an
Irish-Italian-American. He had Irish features, but Italian skin. He tanned
well. At age twelve, he was four months younger than me, and as of yet, he
was baby smooth, except for a steadily thickening patch of reddish brown
pubes. He was about my height, taller than Benji, and lean and trim from
running and playing basketball. He had hazel eyes and medium brown hair
that he liked short so it wouldn't get in his eyes when he played sports. I
knew that when he walked by their lunch tables, girls pointed and giggled
to each other about him. If he knew, he didn't know what to do about it, so
he kept quiet. All these thoughts went through my mind in about ten
seconds. Drew was totally naked, except for his Orioles cap and that was
okay.

We all walked into the house, with Fintan padding behind us. I went to the
kitchen to pour us all some root beer, while Sean led the others back to
the sun porch. From down the all I heard Drew exclaim "Holy Torando,
Batman! Who got swept to Oz?"

Walking down the hall, I peeked into the den, and saw good ol' Fin curled
in his bed, licking himself. "Guess it got to you, too, pal," I said, and
walked on. By the time I brought the drinks into the sun porch, the others
had righted the overturned furniture and picked up most of the scattered
debris. The inner door was still open, and I again saw the gaping hole in
the torn screen. "Home Depot?" I asked Sean.

He nodded. "Tomorrow." With that, he flopped on the couch. I handed
everyone their drinks, and sat in the overstuffed recliner. Ben and Drew
sat on the loveseat. 'How appropriate,' I thought bitterly, surprising
myself. Their legs brushed, their hands almost touching, and not for the
first time, I picked up on a sense of closeness between Benji and Drew. I
felt a mix of happiness and jealousy all at once, and then shame at the
unworthy thoughts. If Ben and Drew were close, that was only a good
thing. 'It's not like Ben's in love with me,' I thought, denying to myself
that the reverse was very much true.

"Naked. Open door." Drew said. When he was flustered, he tended to speak in
sentence fragments.

"No one can see from this side of the house," Sean said. "Unless ninjas
invade the back garden."

Now it was Drew's turn to shrug. "I told my parents I might spend the
night," he said then. "Cool?"

"As long as they know Greg isn't here and they're okay with it," Sean
said. When Drew said they did and they were, Sean added with a laugh, "We
won't have to tell them about 'Nudist Tuesday' at least."

"But we should tell Drew," Ben said, momentarily serious. "Everything."

His quick acceptance and willingness to divulge such a private situation
almost unnerved me, and again I felt a twinge of jealousy. Would he be that
open with anyone but Drew? But hell, we were all sitting naked together,
Drew and I both half hard. And I knew of course that if Drew knew and I
didn't, Ben would open up to me, in his own time. I shuffled my feet and
sipped my root beer.

Sean started the tale, and I took over once we got past the screen
door. Drew was laughing by this point. Ben chimed in with tidbits here and
there. I stopped before we came to the "horsey ride" and looked at Ben. He
told me to go on. I did, as gingerly as I knew how. When I faltered, Ben
finished it himself. It still made him blush, but not nearly so bad as
earlier.

"Do they know it's sexy stuff?" Drew asked, meaning Walt and Nathan.

"Nope," Sean said, and then explained about our backyard vow.

"Doesn't stop you from feeling it when they get cute, man," Drew said, and
he patted Ben's knee. "I get it, ok?"

Ben said, "Yeah. Thanks, Doodle." He looked down at his feet for a minute,
then swung his head back up, his gaze taking in all of us. "Thing is... I
sorta liked it. It *did* feel nice."

It was as if he expected us to be shocked, to recoil, or something. "Duh,"
I said, and Sean and Drew both nodded, smiling as if to say, "Of course it
did, you lunkhead, because sex is supposed to feel nice."

Ben caught the meaning and laughed at himself. "Yeah, I know, I know." He
waved his hand, dismissing the comment. "I was just thinking..." He looked
at me. "You didn't get to 'fire off a round' yet, Tim."

There. You could hear both the pin and the other shoe dropping
together. And now we all knew where this was headed.

"Yeah," Drew piped up, breaking the silence. "Sounds like your cap gun's
still fully loaded, man."

"Jesus," Sean said. "You lot aren't supposed to be this horny at your age."

"Must be something in the water," I said. For some reason, that made Ben
laugh.

Sean leaned back, and looked at us. If Drew hadn't been here, I knew it
would have been different, and things would just have happened. But we all
liked having him here, I thought, so it made the questioning okay. "So are
we doing this?" Sean asked.

Drew nodded, then Ben, then me. "Right," said Sean. He got up, and pushed
the couch back towards the empty fireplace, making room. Most of the room
was hardwood, but the sitting area had a soft rug. We all finished our root
beers, then Ben realized there was a missing ingredient. "Rain," he said
softly.

Sean and I looked at each other. "The hose?" I suggested. All three of them
nodded, getting the idea at once. Sean pulled some fresh towels from the
laundry room and we all went back to the garage. With the towels spread two
deep on the garage floor, Ben got on his hands and knees. Sean picked up
the hose. "It's not gonna be exactly like the rain."

"Close enough," Ben said, and arced his back, thrusting his ass into the
air.

Seeing Ben like that, his ass in the air in front of me, little Tim sprang
to full attention at once. I caught a glimpse of Drew, and saw his soldier
was saluting too. "Whoa" he mouthed to me, grinning. I rolled my eyes.

"You know it's gonna be different," I said to Ben, thinking of another kind
of wetness. "Uh...creamy."

He nodded. "Your spunk, gotcha."

I moved behind him, hands on his butt. I loved the way his arse felt. The
way it looked. But I couldn't say that. So I just swallowed and said,
"Uhm..."

Ben looked back at me. "Slide it through a few times before you saddle up,
cowboy." Then he turned to Sean. "We're go for launch." Ben always found a
way to mix his metaphors.

Sean nodded, tilted the nozzle upward, and pressed the trigger. A fine mist
spread over Ben and me. It did feel different then the rain, but it still
felt great, and in just a few seconds, we were dripping wet. Kneeling
behind Benji, I slid my boner across his ass, slapping it against the
cheeks. Then, like he said, I moved up, and it slid into the crack. I
worked it up and down a couple times, groaned, and then made myself pull
back. If I didn't, I'd cum like that, and I knew that wasn't what he
wanted. One final slippy-slide through his sweet cleft and I moved into
position, straddling him like the Lone Ranger. 'Bet he never did this with
Tonto,' I thought absurdly. 'Or humped Silver while riding bareback.'

Shaking away those random thoughts, I braced my legs against Ben's sides
and bore down with my crotch, pressing my cock into the small of his
back. I felt him moan more than heard him over the spray. My hands found
his shoulders, and I started thrusting my hips. The water had made us
slick, and my dick easily slid up and down his back. Benji started that
push-up-like motion again, and I found a rhythm with him. A little bit of
water was pooling in the small of his back, and with each thrust, I sliced
through it. I squeezed by knees against his belly, not too tight, and
humped faster against his back, short, jabbing thrusts. Ben was moaning
now, and so was I. Even through the slick wetness of the "rain water," some
friction was building, and I found myself stopping and starting. Jerking
and thrusting against his back as it raised and lowered. My hips rocked
back and forth. Thinking of Fintan and Walt, I spread myself over Ben's
back, and licked at the "rain" on his neck. I felt him shudder at the new
sensation, and with a few more tingly jerks of my pelvis, I was there. I,
er, reared back in the saddle and almost shouted as I came. Six spurts of
my boycum spouted across his back, the longest shots landed on his shoulder
blades, the rest left a trail down to where water pooled again in the small
of his back. Rocking in the afterglow as the hose-rain sprayed over us, I
smiled and bent to lick his neck again. I heard him whisper, "I love you."
My heart leapt and I slid off his back, whispering my love back to my
brother. I stroked his arm, then wiggled out of the way when Ben signaled
Drew to come over. Still within reach, my hand stroked Ben's arm as Sean
continued to spray us with the mist.

I smiled as I watched Ben and Drew. No jealousy now. I saw Ben's cock
dangle between his legs, the head peaking out from the hood of foreskin,
and saw Drew's was in the same condition. He was a little bigger than me,
and a little thicker. I licked my lips, thinking momentarily about sucking
them both.

Drew slid his dick through Ben's ass crack a few times like I had, and then
climbed into position. He bent his knees more than I did, and his feet
rested against Ben's thighs as he started the dry humping cowboy ride. He
didn't move his hands to Ben's shoulders as I had, but gripped around his
ribcage. His thrusts were sharper, and he was a lot more vocal, talking
like a cowboy pornstar. "Oh yeah, Benji... Ride 'em cowboy, gonna bust this
bronco!" with a lot of moaning in between.

I moaned myself when I realized that Drew was sliding his cock through my
own cum. My dick twitched and started coming back to life. Ben's head was
between his arms again, and he locked eyes with me. I stroked his hair.

Drew was hunching excitedly against Ben now, grunting more than talking,
except for "gonna cum gonna spooge, Ben Benji-o," and in a few moments, the
cowboy's rocket ship ignited. Drew threw back his head like Walt did, and
shook while his cock sputtered and spit. Six long strands of his own spooge
joined mine on Ben's back, along with a few dribbles. He trembled in his
afterglow, and then slid down next to me. I held him, while Ben collapsed
onto his stomach, looking at both of us.

"Wow," he said. "I really *do* like that."

Sean turned off the hose, and came over to us. He was raging hard, and his
six inches of sixteen year old cock bobbed in front of us. "My God that was
hot," he said. "Fucking horny twelve year olds." He shook his head, and his
cock shook along with it.

Sean ran a finger down Ben's back, scooped up a glob of our combined cum
and slurped it into his mouth. "Cooool," Drew breathed beside me. We looked
at each other, and I said, "What the hell?" Drew grinned giddily and we
knelt over Benji's back, licking up the watery mixture of our cum. Ben
found it ticklish and laughed like crazy while Sean just said
"Un-fucking-believable."

When Benji's back was clean, Sean got down on all fours himself, and said,
"YOu and me, we haven't cum yet, little brother. Wanna go for a ride?"

Ben nodded excitedly, with that "oh boy" expression of his that I
loved. Drew and I ran over to the hose and fired the nozzle. The mist
washed over Sean and Ben. Ben slid his cock between Sean's buns, and I
thought I heard Sean say "Soon enough." Ben climbed up on his back, and
wrapped his legs around Sean. And then the bucking and humping began. He
tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth, and he humped and grinded his
pelvis into Sean's broad back. Sean actually did start doing pushups, and
Ben thrust faster.

Drew and I watched as we held the hose, idly fondling each other. After
five minutes of jackrabbit dry humping, just like he now knew he liked, Ben
cried out and bit his lip, cumming and cumming onto our big brother's
back. Seven or eight shots flowed out of his spitting snake and his
breathing grew ragged. Eyes closed, he trembled and fell onto Sean's back,
still bucking his hips and shaking with the feeling of his cock against
taught muscles. Benji licked up a drop of his own cum and swung off of his
"horsey." As we had hugged him, he hugged Sean's neck and stroked his arm.

Stopping the spray, Drew and I saw Sean was trembling on his own now. We
bent and looked to his cock twitching, bouncing with his pulse. He'd
already cum once today without touching himself and it looked like he
nearly had again. He clearly wanted to, but at the same time was straining
to hold himself back. He saw my expression. "Don't want to waste it on the
towel," he said.

We went over to them, padding across the wet concrete floor to the soggy
mat formed by the towels. Drew sat next to Ben, and I bent over Sean's
back, licking up Ben's cum. "Ooooh," Sean sighed.

An idea struck me, and I asked Sean if he could stand up. He did, though
his cock still jerked every few seconds. "Don't touch it," I said, then
bent to whisper to Ben and Drew.

I could feel Sean's eyes boring into the back of my head as he wondered
what I'd cooked up. Then I turned around, and told him to watch. The three
of us sat cross-legged, with Drew in the middle. Then we scooted closer
together, and Drew moved his legs so that he was sitting half in Ben's lap,
half in mine. I kissed one of his shoulders, and Ben licked the other. We
moved our hands up his thighs, our fingers brushed as we reached his
cock. We waggled Drew's wilted wiener at Sean, all three of us watching his
face. He had bit his lip, and was starting to almost hump the air. And Ben
and I started our mock humping, sliding our half-hard cocks against Drew's
tanned legs. Drew moaned appreciatively, and licked his lips, staring at
Sean. I began to kiss and lick Drew's chest. At the same time, Ben tilted
Drew's face toward his, and they kissed.

That did it for Sean, and he moved closer to us quickly, bending his
knees. His twitching dick was on a level with Drew's face, and while I
pumped my fist furiously on Drew's own boner, Sean's erupted with force. He
jerked his hips in an arc, spraying his cum over the three of us. His
massive load ran down our faces and chests in warm rivulets.

Sean dropped to his knees in front of Drew, and slurped the boy's cock into
his more grown-up mouth. With a loud gasp, Drew's eyes flew open and his
hands landed on Sean's head. We stroked his chest as he emptied his balls
again, this time into my big brother's mouth. "Whoooooaaa fuck," Drew
cried, sagging against Sean, who hed him and stroked his back.

Ben and I were too close again ourselves to stop. We grappled for each
other, sliding together, licking Sean's spunk from each other's face. We
grabbed at each others butts as we ground our cocks together as we did
sometimes when we slept in the same bed. Sean nicknamed us the "frot
brothers" because of that. It didn't take long as he groped and humped and
licked and kissed. Our balls were nearly empty, and we both just spurted a
few week drops, but the orgasms were intense, almost like the dry ones we'd
had before we started spunking up.

After a few moments, the four of us sat there, looking at each other. Wet,
sweaty and covered with cum. "Well, we can't stay here," Sean said,
finally. He got up and grabbed the hose one final time, and I stood next to
him as he aimed the mist at Ben and Drew. They kissed in the spray,
obviously liking it when they'd been teasing Sean. A pang struck my heart,
but I let it fall away.

And when they were as clean as they would get, we traded places with them,
Sean and I just hugging each other. Two minutes later, Sean put the hose
away, sneaking out and back in under cover of darkness. We linked arms and
walked into the house. Sean grabbed more towels and dried each of us off
individually. He kissed my nose when he was finished with me. "Good times,
Eeyore," he said with a smile.

We all knew we were spent for the night, but none of us felt like dressing
again. The thought of it seemed like ignoring what had just happened, and
the four of us were still caught up in some kind of communal afterglow. We
were hungry, however. It was after ten o'clock, and while we'd all had
dinner around five, we'd just burned off a *lot* of energy.

Sean made PBJ sandwiches, mine with strawberry preserves, the others' with
the standard grape jelly. We ate at the breakfast counter in the kitchen,
Drew sitting in Sean's lap, and Ben and I holding hands. After so much
physical contact, we didn't want to let go just yet. We washed down the
sandwiches with milk and a couple of Oreos. When Sean got up to clear the
dishes, he didn't put Drew down, but carried him on his side, like he did
with Adam. He went to close up the sun porch door, and Ben and I saw Drew's
head resting on his shoulder as they rounded the corner. When they came
back a few moments later, Drew's eyes were glazed over with sleepiness. Ben
yawned, and I followed suit.

Sean led the way to our bedroom. Silently, Ben indicated that Sean should
put Drew down in the bottom bunk, and Ben slipped in behind him, pulling
the covers up.

I looked at my top bunk for a moment, but Sean's hand on my shoulder led me
to his bed, and I was quite content to climb in there. He squeezed my
shoulder, and left the room to check on Nathan, Walt and Adam. When he came
back, he gave me the okay sign. Amazingly, they'd slept through it
all. Sean slipped into bed behind me, whispered "I love you, Tim," and I
snuggled against his chest. Ben and Drew were already asleep, breathing
gently. I listened to their breathing, and Sean's, and let myself drift off
to sleep.


----

Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much as I
did remembering these events. If you have any comments, questions,
encouragement or flames, please write me at: patriotspectre@yahoo.com.


Cheers, mates!

- Tim