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The Vacation House Ch. 02

By: 1Puck1



I lay back down on my side of the mattress, the cover sheet wraps around my legs, it pull completely off dad. Rolls over, the cool air meeting his warm skin. He slowly lowers his formidable frame down his side of the mattress as I turn again onto my side to face the blank wall a few feet away.

Moonlight filters into the room, shadows of our bodies cast upon the wall. One figure, that's all I can make out, yet there are actually two full sized figures between summers moon and that master bedroom wall.

I'm so nervous, anticipation, maybe even a little scared to death of what I am beginning to imagine might come to be in just a few short hours. Lays still, quiet, I listen intently for the familiar sound, the comforting deep rhythmic drone of Dad's light snores.

He's fallen asleep so very quickly yet I'm anxious, all jittery inside. Unable to force myself to sleep, I try to clear my mind only to find that this is simply useless. Fidget's a little more as the minutes pass. Every sound that normally would have gone unnoticed seems to be amplified, crickets, creaks of the house as it settles in for the night.

My imagination winds me up to the point that I convince myself to stay in bed, not get up to do some work on the sheet rock. Knowing dad and I are going to be tackling this huge job all weekend. 

No, I have to lay here, act normal. I'm not going to wake dad up, he's worked himself ragged all week, the little sleep he can catch is something I have to afford him, even if I am about to go off the deep end.

I don't even know when I had dozed off, being awakened by the ringing of the small plastic wind up alarm clock on the floor next to dad's side of the bed. I roll over, realized he's not there. I have to stop that clanging noise, get myself up, find out what this morning is going to bring our way.

6:05? 6:05? Why did he let me sleep in this late? Is he upset with me about what happened last night? My stomach drops, waves of nausea wash over me, sweat breaks out all over my body. Shaking, I slapped the top button of the alarm to it's off position, near silence, that is if you do not count the thumping of my own heart.

Tosses off the top sheet, grabs my work shoes, leans against the back wall in order to pull them on without having to tie them up, laces left dangling. I pull a dirty T-shirt worn the evening before over my head. Walks to the partially closed bedroom door, steps out into the hallway.

Stands for a moment, listens for sounds of running water, any movement at all. Not a sound, not a single peep meets my ears. I head into the kitchen to find that it too is abandoned.

The table had been set with a few napkins, two mugs, empty at the places where we sit and eat our donuts, drink coffee before getting to the tasks of the day.

Compelled to confirm that dad had left, gone into town to get supplies, I head into the living room and stand in front of the large picture window. There is no dad, no truck, he must have gotten up and decided to get an earlier start.

While I was staring blankly out of the expansive front window, taking in everything and nothing of the green forest that surrounds the property the Vacation House, I notice movement off in the distance. Dad's pick-up rounds the corner of the dirt driveway. His dirty truck comes to a stop right in front of the walkway, he jumps out, his arms laden down with brown paper bags. He kicks the drivers door closed with the bottom of his work boot, turns his back to the truck, heads to the front entrance of the house.

I rush to the door, nearly trip on the overturned milk crate foot stool. I unlocked the door handle, opens it. Dad walks in, I closed the door behind, follows him into the kitchen. He puts the bags on the partially finished kitchen counter, sets his Thermos of hot coffee down. He reached into one of the bags, removes a folded up newspaper, tosses it several feet across the kitchen, it lands nearly perfect, just where he enjoys his coffee and donuts.

"So, are you ready to get things started Robbie?" 

Dad's words come as a complete shock to my system, he so rarely speaks in the morning, almost never before he's had his coffee? NEVER!

Not sure of what exactly had occurred the night before, I'm deathly afraid of just coming out and blurting something that might have taken way out of context, totally miss-understood. I figure if I just respond with ambiguous comments, I might be safe.

"What ever you want dad, I'm up for anything you think we should do today." 

Hears myself saying this but not sure that I didn't just come across as an idiot.

"Robbie, if you are having cold feet about last night, I'll understand, we don't ever have to talk about it, ever again. This is your baby, I'm going along for the ride to see where it leads us at this point, got me?"

I didn't dream or imagine what I thought had happened, I'll have to make the first move. My nerves turn to inner strength, go for it Robbie, just go for it.

"Yes, dad, you've got it. Where do you figure we should do this?"

Boy that sure sounded like the most lame thing ever!

"Robbie, let's go into the living room, I think that's were we should get this started."

Dad turns on his heals, walks toward me, takes my hand into his own rough paw, gives it a tight squeeze as I am being pulled into the expansive, sparsely decorated room. We approach the folding chair dad sits in to relax. I see a shadow of him, his pony beer in hand after a long days labor. He gazes into my eyes, not flinching nor blinking, his pupils are large, BLACK, as they fill the entire area between his top and bottom eyelids.

He settles himself down in the folding chair, pats his thigh which is covered with his well worn tan work pants. He wiggles himself back into the seat, assures himself of a stable seated position.

I open my mouth, began to speak, yet only a few words came out before I am cut short.

"No, don't do anything, don't touch anything don't make a sound. I 'm in control here, this is your punishment, I am going to handle things and YOU in any way that I damned well see fit, got that?"

Scared like a little kid by the tone in his voice, it's no longer calming or happy. It's a tone completely foreign to me compared to any I had ever heard.

He moves, both hands reach up grab at the elastic waist band of my black Calvin Klein form fitted boxer briefs. He pulls them down with such force that I feel as if he had left an Indian sunburn on each side of my thighs. The are forcefully yanked, the stretchy fabric garment brushes the top of my feet.

"OUT! Out of them, NOW!"

I respond immediately, steps out of them, kicks them off with my left foot as the undergarment is tossed across the room.

Dad raises his hands, takes my left hand by his heavily calloused digits, the other hand is firmly placed upon my shoulder. I find myself being pulled down, across his slightly separated legs.

I wiggled a bit into place, find my privates parts are being mashed against the thickness of his right thigh. Dad grabs hold of the hem of my T-shirt, pulls it up over my head. The arms of the shirt were still on me, my shoulders tightly pulled up inside the fabric. My shirt is stretching across the front of my throat and under my chin. My chest, stomach and back are exposed as is the full roundness of my hockey created bubble butt.

Dad puts his right arm underneath the front of my thighs, extends my legs out and away from his lap so that only the very tips of my work boots touch the floor.

I'm in a very unstable position, feel a very rough, warm caress of his right hand as it ran over the back of my thighs, then up and over the mounds of my exposed backside.

His left hand reaches, grabs my right wrist. He pulls my arm into a reverse V shape over my back, away from the object that he is determined to have clear access of. My left arm is stretched forward so I can barely touch the floor with my fingertips, just enough to have some stability and not fall off sideways onto the plywood floor below. We are in this position for what seems an eternity.

I can hear dad breathing very quickly, tell that he is purposefully slowing his inhaling, exhaling. His right hand lays directly on the center of my upturned behind.

I crane my neck, look over my should only to be met with a sharp twist of my right arm into yet an even more uncomfortable position. I lay motionless and gave in to his dominance. The control level has gone completely from 50/50 to 95/05 with me being the lowly 05% of control. Looking down at the plywood below us, I fixate upon a row of penny nails that holds to the flooring the joists below.

His hand raises from my buttocks, sudden coolness of the air surrounds what had previously been a gentle, almost sensuous touch of my butt. It is replaced with a deafening slap, searing red hot pain, pain that shoots down my legs to my toes, then back up to the very tips of my crew cut sandy blond hair.

My head snaps back, I'm staring directly at a window on the far side of the living room. A beautiful white Paper Birch receives the bulk of my attention. I attempt to bite down upon my lower lip to steady myself for what I know is just the beginning of a long, painful experience.

The cool air comes quickly but is replaced by an even sharper smack, more red hot pain. I actually see small floaters of sparkling light in front of my eyes, I try to focus on the Paper Birch.

Again, again and again, the cadence quickens as the blows seem to become ever more severe.

I become acutely aware of my private parts, they dangle between my dad's heavy thighs. My penis is hard as a rock, balls hanging in the most precarious position I could ever imagine them in.

The rough fabric of his work pants rubs down the back side of the tender, lightly haired skin that loosely covers my balls. With each and every blow to my behind, my stiffened penis swings wildly back and forth, as if a clapper inside of a bell. My tormented balls bang one muscular leg, then swing forcefully back, slapping hard against the other.

The onslaught continues against my backside, it starts to become desensitized, almost numb. If it were not for the loud smacking sound, mixed with dad's heaving grunts as he lays fully all of his weight, strength into each and every spank, I would have have almost been lulled into a state of a hypnotic trance.

Tears well up on the bottom of my eye lids. I fight desperately not to make a single sound or to allow theses tears to breach my bottom lashes.

This is of my own doing, I'll be damned if I allow this to make dad feel sorry for me. I refuse to let him think that I am anything less than the man he once believed I had become, rough, tough and in control. This is why he was so disappointed in me for having gone through his things in his room at home. He's right, I do know right from wrong and I purposely chose wrong.

Why the heck am I so darned hard? Why is this pain, I mean REAL PAIN in my ass causing such an aroused feeling down in the pit of my stomach. My head was begins to spin, a familiar feeling, feeling I give myself when I'm in private, rubbing one off after a long afternoon of hockey practice. I have always given in to the urge to get myself off, just tossing one and figuring it was brought on by adrenaline, the shear closeness of other naked bodies.

It does not matter to me if they are male or female, just the closeness and what I saw as the glimpses of the forbidden fruit of someone Else's private parts. Areas of their bodies otherwise is considered off limits to look at while in any setting other than the locker rooms.

It's common place to snap towels at a well shaped bubble butt, to make fun of the guy with a dong so long that it nearly drags on the floor, the head on it, shaped like a huge ripe tomato. We all dare him to try to wrap it around a door-nob, then give him and ourselves high five's when it turns out that he actually can wrap that thing around a door knob! We found out that he can touch the end of it to his ass hole too!

"SPANK!" 

Brought back to the moment, I no longer hear another sound, nor any new sharp burning pain. It's a constant pain, throbbing as if my heart has been transplanted into my backside.

Raw pain, not being allowed to turn my head to look at my swollen, dark red raised hairless mounds of muscle. What once was super white flesh and smooth cheeks in my minds eye appear angry and inflamed.

Dad's voice brings me back to reality of the situation.

"Well, is that enough for now?" 

A completely different tone in his voice now, he sounds exhausted but that satisfied kind of exhaustion that I recognize. It's like when he is proud of himself for having done something difficult and done it well.

My response comes slowly, I am trying to keep myself from a bit of emotional release. Then there is this sensation that is running through my body, like electricity running through a toy. 

"Yeah, for now, thank you. Next time, maybe a bit more role play. What do you think about that dad?"

Yep, I let the sexual tension take over my mouth. I am a guy filled with not only emotions but I think my hard on has drained my head of all reasoning, there's just not enough blood for both of them to work at the same time.

"Robbie, I'm with you on that one. Next time, maybe a little spanking, not as long. I think that we can play a little with other things too. I've got a little something for you too because we do have to get into that shower, wash off last nights stink."

Dad's hand releases my twisted arm, reaches under my chest to help assist me so I can stand up in front of him.

There it is, right at his eyes level, rock hard, no way of getting around it. I'm well beyond excited, it's begging for more, more of something, anything, I have absolutely no control over it.

Dad reaches forward, places his hand at the base of my penis, low hanging balls. He wraps his large, rough fingers around them, forcefully pulls away from my body. He stands up tugs more roughly than I had anticipated, he lead me into the kitchen.

Upon our walking toward the bags on the counter, dad reaches into the tallest one. Digging down, he then pulls out a round container of Crisco,, shortening for baking? What the heck is he going to be doing with this stuff that mom puts into the bottom of the cupcake tins.

Not a word of explanation, my privates firmly encircled by dad's powerful paw, I'm led into the partially completed hallway bathroom. It's larger than the master bath, the black and white tile flooring has already been installed. A large garden tub and separate glass encased standing shower are located at the far end of the room. A double sink set in a long granite vanity counter with brushed nickel finished faucets stands opposite the gleaming white low tank toilet.

Still holding me in his vice like grip, dad sit down on the closed toilet seat.

"Turn around, put your hands on the counter top." 

Dad's command is one that I know not to question.

Finds I'm facing the long beveled mirror that runs the length of the vanity. I can not see much of dad other than his wide shoulders. Realizes that he is unbuttoning, removing his short sleeved plaid shirt.

The reflection shows he has tossed his shirt, it lays limp on the edge of the tub. He starts to pull his sleeveless T-shirt off tosses it along with his other shirt.

I attempt to turn, wishing to see what he is doing only to again hear a deafening spank, another searingly sharp pain to my naked very vulnerable butt.

Forcing myself to stare into the mirror at my own face, realizes that I am a total mess, puffy and red eyed.

"POP"

I hear the top of the container being pulled back by it's metal pull top key. Then cool, no a COLD soothing sensation being spread all over the surface of my burning behind. Dad is applying the Crisco to my backside as a cooling cream, well that is until I feel a large gob of the white paste being smoothed between the two swollen cheeks of my ass.

The application of more and more creamy white coolness to my fully exposed backside causes my penis to stick straight forward, a trickle of clear sticky liquid escapes the dark reddish purple opening of my uncut 7" long, thick penis. The entire head sticking out of it's natural casing jacket, it began to leak like a bad faucet.

Dad's fingers, yes, I said it, three of them, fully greased up are forcefully rubbing up and down the entire length of my crack. They slide up to the area of my lower back where the top of my haunch muscles cut to my narrow waist, just as forcefully he slides them back down between my thighs, rubs the underside of my balls, then back up again.

Extra pressure is added each and every time his three fingers pass over my butt hole. My virgin hole is clenched tight, his middle finger tries to push just the tiniest bit of it's tip into the very opening of my super sensitive ass hole.

I believe the top of my head is going to shoot off and that my penis is going to literally explode!

"In the shower with you Robbie, we have a ton of sheet rock to do today and I'm hoping to get some of the taping started too."

Another sharp spank is applied to my greased up backside, dad rises from his throne to remove, step out of his work pants, kick off his shoes completely disrobed. He turns, walks into the shower stall, beckons me to hurry, follow him. I know that there is just so much water at our disposal and to waste it would be criminal.

A broad, wicked smile crosses dad's face, he turns the large handle, the water begins to cascade over his head, down his shoulders, over his chest and stomach only to waterfall off his massive penis and low hung balls jutting out from between his legs. It looks as if it is a shorter third leg surrounded by this massive forest of thick short black.

I stand up straight, walk into the shower to stand along side my naked dad. He hands me a bar of soap, asks if me if I would wash his back for him. He says that his shoulders and hands were too sore from the heavy work out from this morning.

The Vacation House Ch. 03



How much I love the smell of Ivory Soap mixed with the musky scent of my dad. Takes the white bar from my dad's outstretched hand, grasp it tightly, so afraid of dropping it, making him think that I'm trying to be some sort of shower stall cliche'. Problem is, this is exactly what's going through my mind. 

I want him, wish he would ravage me, take me in his arms, squeeze the breath out of me. I so long for his stroking hand once more upon my Crisco greased up butt and puckered hole. I want him to invade me, make me his personal puppet to do with as he wishes.

"Robbie, my back OK? Before the water pressure starts to run too low and we have to walk around smelling like some sort of wild animals all weekend."

Wild animals? Damn, I only wish he and I were wild animals, out in the wilderness, doing what animals do without anyone passing judgement on them.The bar of soap begins to slides over dad's broad shoulders. His skin is stretched taught over his muscles the soap glide with ease, a light lathering of residue left in its wake.

I explore more of his back with the bar of soap, rubbing his muscular form, well manscaped back. Moves in and up and down motion, between his shoulder blades, dad exhales a low moan of pleasure. I know I am doing something right, that I am bringing pleasure to the him. The water continues to cascade down dad's front, small rivulets find their way over his shoulders, down his back. The soapy water mingles into the dark furrow that rises from between the cheeks of his buttocks. My eyes followed closely by my hand and soap to the area that juts towards me.

It seems that I am not the only one to have a great set of assets in our family. For his age, dad's butt stands firm, high upon his lower back. The damned thing is thrust towards me with a beautiful arch to his back. I can't help but allow my hands to roam down to them. It's exciting, so tempting to just take a handful of them, give them a good smack just as he had done to me just a few minutes ago.

My butt begins to tingle with delightful discomfort, I'm aware of my own erection. It barely touches the top of Dad's backside. My being taller than he, my pulsing member is cradled upon the curve between Dad's haunches and the mounds of powerful muscled ass.

"Hmm, that's a good boy. A little lower Robbie, I really need you to get me squeaky clean down there. Yes, right there, no a little lower, it's OK, go ahead, don't be afraid, go right between them, scrub me right to my balls.

My head drops back, my mouth opens up, gulping in a little bit of steam filled air, it fills my lungs. It's heavy, I can taste the mixture of soap and dad on the tip of my tongue, it felt good, really good!

Using my left hand, I pull at his left butt cheek, slides the bar of soap deep in between the giant ass cheeks. Dad arches his back, his back-side pushes toward me the area between his mounds separate, reveal their hidden pearl treasure. Forces myself to stay calm, my head begins to go a little light, I lean my chest against Dad's back to brace myself.

"You're doing great Robbie, don't stop, you're doing just fine. Yeah, press a little harder right there, down, yes right there."

Breathing heavier I, feel dad's back heave. His head lowers forward, all I can see is the back of his neck, the hairs on the back of his head as well as his ears. Turns my head sideways, lays it along side his face, left cheek. Water pours over my short hair then down my neck, shoulders and back. The stubble that has grown in on dad's face pushes into my smooth cheek. His scent rises hot, burns into my nostrils. It's as intoxicating as any alcoholic drink that I had consumed during my freshman year at URI.

My soapy hand passes over the bud of dad's hole, slips down the length of his taint. His long, stretched out ball sack meets the soap, I continue to stroke him from behind. My hand rounds under his balls, then upward, fingers meet his massive boner protruding from the dense forest of soapy pubic hairs. Dad let out a long moan, pushes his face against mine, rubs it back the way a cat rubs against something it loves.

Whiskers scrape my cheek and neck, a lightly pain but totally pleasurable sensation. Slowly, I move my hand up and down dad's soapy lower back, then back to the top of his but cheeks. My low hanging balls slowly rub up and down the length of the crack between dad's ass.I slide the bar of soap along the underside of Dad's penis but he reached back and moved my arm from behind him and brought it around his waist. I drop the soap, it bounces on the fiberglass shower stall bottom. Dad forcefully takes my hand, places it on his huge dick. My head swirls with too many things, I can't think any longer, only react.

Dad guides my open palm, curved fingers back and forth over the length of his erection. It seems to me that I simply never realized just how large a man he actually is. His hard dick is more than double the width of my hand, even though I try, there is just no way I can get my fingers to wrap all the way around his shaft.

Our hands continued to stroke back and forth, forces them against the base of his penis. We push into his pelvis only to be rudely withdrawn, then pulls all the way back to the very tip of the cloaked head of his penis. The hood of skin drapes over the angry head, a drip of soapy water falls from it.

I feel dad using the ends of his fingers clean between apple shaped dick head and the depths of the lining of his foreskin. He pinches the fleshy cloak, pulls as far as it will stretch. Taking this dare, I run two of my soapy fingers inside the fleshy tube, play with the angry head of his engorged penis. It is massive and burns with heat to the touch.

Quick as a flash, dad turns around, kneels before me, my penis, just an inch from his full Italian his lips. His eyes gaze up, water streams over his head, down his kneeling body. 

"Ssh, just go with it." 

Those beautiful, full, Italian lips part, tongue slips out to flick the tip of my penis. He gently inhales half of me in one mind splitting moment.

His head moves slowly, back and forth, lips brush my groin. Just as my penis is nearly out of his mouth, carefully he nibbles the end of my foreskin. Shivers are sent through, goose bumps form all over body. Hairs on my head stand on end, I rise up on my tip-toes in an involuntary response.

Dad retrieves the Ivory soap without getting up from his knees, continues to suck my dick. He slides the soap up and down my leg, come to the underside of my rounded buttocks. Forces the soap between the crotch of my legs, caresses the underside of my balls and taint. Continuing, he presses the soap deeper between my butt cheeks, comes to a halt at my hole's lips.

I hear the bar of soap bounce off the bottom of the shower. The pressure of dad's index finger against my virgin bud becomes demanding. A little more effort, I feel it, it's a terrible pain, the insertion of dad's thick and calloused finger deep into my tight, invaded hole.

His eyes burn into mine, I give a reluctant nod of approval. I feel the entire length of his finger slide to the bottom knuckle, wiggles it deep inside of me. I'm seeing stars, lights before my eyes. The feeling of having to suddenly relieve myself builds deep within me.

Dad buries his face, full force down into my crotch. His nose mashes against the blond bush of pubic hair surrounding my penis. I feel the back of his throat convulse, a small choking sound escapes his lips. He opened up his mouth. I feel him force every last bit of me down his throat. The head of my penis hits the flesh of his gullet, as the shaft of my penis bends from the force.

I breath in deeply through my nose, his finger pulls out of my ass hole. Empty, sad at the sudden loss of pressure against my prostate, he'd found a spot inside of me that I never knew existed. It brought a painful pressure yet a surge of exquisite electricity throughout my insides.

My penis is still being ravaged by dad's throat, I feel soapy pressure against my anus, the onslaught begins. I feel as if I'm being split wide open, the pain surges through my backside blinds me, I become very weak at the knees. I put my hand back to the object penetrating me. I wrap my fingers around his invading paw. find that he had forced three fingers into my hole. A cry escapes me, eyes closed tight, I can't imagine what is being done on my ass. Full thrusts forward until I can feel his knuckles and hand pressing hard against my ass

"Fuck! Oh, FUCK."

Curse words gush out of me. I not one to swear very much. I was brought up to resist the temptation to use that kind of language but it's just so right at this moment.

Dad pulls his head back off of my penis, leaves the very tip of it between his lips. I feel light teething on the very end of my foreskin. He knows damned well that he's bringing about feelings in me that I had never experienced before. His tongue flicks the tip of my slit, I feel it pressing into the very small opening causing it to stretch beyond my comprehension.

"POP!" he 

Dad pulls his fingers out of my ass, shoves them back in just as quickly, even more forceful than he had done before. This assault is repeated upon my pained ass hole until I feel the pain begin to subside, it's replaced by a burning need, desire for more in my hole.

Four, FOUR FINGERS! being forced inside of me. My hole gives a great deal of resistance but it's no match for the power behind those four fingers being rammed into me.

I lay my head against the wall of the fiberglass shower place my hands on the glass wall, brace myself. I feel as if my strength has been diverted to my penis and the inside of my ass.

"POP!"

The feeling of being empty returns, the warmth of the inside of my Dad's mouth is replaced by steamy wet air of the shower stall.

Dad tilts his head back. looks up into my eyes.

"Good boy Robbie, just go with it, don't fight it cause I am gonna do this because we both know you want it."

I snort, some water makes its way up into my nostrils, causes me to choke and gag.

Dad's large hand reaches up, turns the metal handle to the off position. The warm cascading shower head goes dry, I'm suddenly enveloped in cooler air that comes in over the top of the glass shower enclosure.

The same hand that had shut the shower off is being roughly wrapped around the base of both my penis and my balls. Dad's hand begins to twist my crotch around in a counter clockwise rotation. It hurts as he continues to twist and turn my privates. I looked down at myself, his hand firmly in charge of my penis and balls. They were a brilliant red color, the tip of my bulbous penis, dark as a ripe plum.

My penis and balls are twisted around so far that my balls face toward the ceiling and my penis has been manipulated to be in the opposite position. I feel dad's free hand grabbing at the middle of my penis, his other hand continues to keep my parts in their reversed position.

I'm semi hard, caused by the pain to my groin area. Dad bends the shaft of my penis upward until I feel the very end of my dick touching the swollen lips of my ass-hole.

Using his middle finger, dad presses the head of my penis with all of his might. It feels bizarre, feels my ass hole again being invaded as the end of my own dick is pressed into my hole. Dad pulls my penis, it moves closer to where my ass hole is. He uses his index finger to force the head of my 7 inch penis up my ass, thank god I'm not better hung, I don't think I could take any more.

I have a ripping feeling in my ass, a thick object being forcefully pushed inside of my virgin ass hole, This is the most intense sensation, I have lost my virginity to the very same person.. Damn it, it's ME!

Dad continues to press the head of my dick up my ass, releases it a little, then presses in again. He's making me fuck myself, continues for what seems an eternity. He takes my tortured balls into his mouth, sucks them to their bursting point. The pain in my balls mingles with the burning pain in my ass.

More pressure at the entrance to my ass hole, I look into dad's eyes, what meets me is the look of a wild animal. He was forces a finger along side my dick as he continues to force me to fuck myself. The stretch is more than I could bare, the size, the pressure in my penis, it has all built to the point I believe I will actually split in half. It happens, I explode into my own ass, shot after shot pulse deep into my bowels.

Dad continues to pull on my balls, my penis begins soften, excruciatingly sensitive, it is allowed to slide out of my ass with a very loud "POP" followed by a release of gas.

I'm so embarrassed by the sound that escaped me, it was quickly put out of my thoughts when dad rammed two of his fingers deep into my ass-hole. He releases my twisted balls and penis to only engulf my half hard prick into his warm mouth. Forcing in and out for several more minutes, I'm brought back to a fully erect state, soon enough shooting another load. 

Dad's fingers are rammed to their hilt, stays motionless, buried deep. He sucks my penis until it had once again lost it's full erection. The fingers slide out of my ass, dad stand up, his hand goes back to the shiny shower handle. Water pours down, I look down, located and retrieve the bar of Ivory soap.

I soap dad's protruding, unattended penis, his hand grasps mine, slowly pulls it away. 

"It's OK Robbie, we don't have much water left, we really do have to get to work. That sheet rock is not going to hang itself you know.."

Dumbfounded, I stare at him as he reaches for the Edge shave gel. He pressed the top until a small amount of blue is in his palm, then it turns to a white lather as it's spread across his rough whiskers.

He takes his razor and hand mirror, turns his back to me. I'm stunned, absolutely floored. All I could think of is, what about Dad? What about him? He did this all for me but not for himself.

"SMACK!"

I feel the large rough lather covered hand spank my already sore ass cheeks. 

"Come on kiddo, get that soap working, get yourself clean. I can already feel the water pressure starting to get weaker."

Rubs the bar of soap all over my body, paying extra special attention to the backside of me because that shortening takes more effort to remove. Steps out of the shower stall, dry's off my hair and body with one of the two large white terry cloth towels that hang on the metal rod. While bending over, toweling my legs, I feel dad's small pat to my upturned backside.

"Hope you liked that Robbie cause it is gonna have to last you for a while, you know."

Stands up, turns toward him.

"Dad, but what about you? Why didn't you let me take care of you? Why didn't you just put it in me instead of putting your fingers back in after I had cum?"

He purses his lips, turns toward the mirror hanging above the vanity. Towel his hair dry, raises one of his legs, leans against the vanity for balance, finally looks up at me. 

"Robbie, well you see, I don't think either of us is ready for that. I honestly don't believe either of us could have handled it,, well maybe."

I'm so confused, dad's standing there drying himself off, his penis still near to it's maximum erection. Damn that thing is even more impressive when you stand back and look at it away from the moment of excitement. It has to be damned near 10 inches, thick is not the word for it. I guess that is why they call it having wood, cause that darned thing is as thick as a tree branch.

"Get going Robbie, get yourself dressed and get my coffee poured, OK?"

I throw the damp towel on the wrinkled bag in the bedroom, pull a pair of black basketball shorts on over my gray boxer briefs, a clean Yankees baseball team T-shirt is pulled over my head. I jam my feet into my boots, rush out into the hall leading toward the kitchen. Coffee, donuts, everything seems normal yet so foreign now. I just feel as if I am having an out of body experience.

Dad comes sauntering in, his Bermuda shorts still bulging at the front from the hardness beneath their fabric. He settles down at the end of the scrubbed table, picks up and opens the newspaper. His hand reaches out blindly, grasps his steaming hot mug of coffee. It disappears behind his paper only to be returned, then replaced by his glazed donuts.

I sit down very gently on the bench next to dad. My back side so very sore that I have to sit on the side of my butt. It is still uncomfortable at best, but halfway through my coffee, I find myself sprouting yet another hard-on.

It's a very busy day, we did finally get the front bedroom and the hallway completely sheet rocked. The ceiling taping is completed shortly before we turn in for a short nap. The ride home is uneventful if you don't think about how I had to keep shifting from side to side due to the discomfort in my backside. I had to constantly adjust my hard on, it seems to not want to go away. Even after I dozed off and found myself being awakened to go into my own to bed.

As the week passed and Friday approaches, so does the anticipation, the constant hiding of my insistent hard on. That damned thing was getting me some really odd looks from just about everyone, all week. Even an old lady that dropped off her grandson for hockey practice took to staring at me, shooting me a very disproving glare.

Friday, five twenty five, I'm rushing around trying to remember everything. I put the pony beers into the cooler chest, grab myself a couple of iced teas. The familiar crunch of the pick-ups tires on the gravel drive caused my stomach to do flip flops. I reach for the recycled wrinkled bag of cloths, gives mom a quick peck on the cheek and out the door I run.



The Vacation House Ch. 04



The front door closes securely behind me, I make my way to the passenger door of dad's pick-up. Grabs the handle, opens my door, hops in, places the small cooler chest along with the wrinkled bag of clean cloths onto the floor. It hits me right away, it's cool in here, it's never cool. The air conditioning is set to high, blows wonderful, refreshing air out of every vent.

I look over at dad, this is just so out of character for him. Expecting the rancid smell of sweat mixed with stale cigar smoke, coupled with humid heat that comes along with the closed up cab. Instead of reaching for the handle to take down the passenger window, I turn a vent toward the ceiling, it's blowing a bit too hard at my face. My eyes dry out as the moisture is drawn from their surface.

What I see in dad's face causes great concern. His head is being held low, he fidgets with something in his hands. His attention is not being directed toward me or the exit from the driveway, we are still parked. The motor is running a little bit rough, the A/C blowing at full blast. Condensation develops on the lower part of the windshield. It must be 92 degree's outside, maybe no more than 65 inside pick-up. Dad's voice finally breaks the weird tension.

"Robbie, there is really no good or easy way to say this, so, I'm going to just get it out there in the open. First off, this has absolutely nothing to do with you or your sister, nothing that either of you could have done to prevent it, nothing at all. If anything, the two of you were the reason that things have gone on as long as it has."

Ominous, that is the only way I see this, it feels as if a shoe were just about to drop but how big of a shoe?

"Your mother and I have discussed this for some time, we have both come to the agreement that we are ready to move on in our lives and that we are going to get a divorce. We are parting as friends, we just can't live together any longer. Your mother has been offered a fantastic job as the head of nursing at the hospital, we know that that is something she,s has wanted her entire life. It will give her the security that she needs and deserves."

Stunned by the admission of what seems to be an amicable split between my parents. My entire life is to be dissolving into a pool of mud. Unable to see things clearly, my stomach dropped into my groin, my lunch rises up into my throat. Not sure if I'm going to hurl or pass out from dizziness. Leans against the passenger door, coolness of the glass presses against the burning in my cheek and the pounding in my head.

"Robbie, you are of the age that if you wish to move out on your own, we will be there for you. We will even pay for a place if that is what you want. Your schooling is our priority, this changes nothing about how we are here for you. Mom already spoke with Ashley about this earlier today, she was offered to stay with your mother here in Rhode Island or the opportunity to come and stay with me at the vacation house. Your sister chose to stay here, her friends are all here, she is still going to high school and she is going to be going to Salve Regina in Newport next fall. It makes sense for her to stay here."

What is he talking about, staying here instead of going to the vacation house? He's moving out? Had he just given me the option to get my own place or stay here in the house that I grew up in, with my friends close by? Wait, he just made a veiled suggestion that I might be able to move to Vermont with him? No, can't be, dad works here, has always worked here in Rhode Island, he doesn't have a job in Vermont.

"Robbie, you remember Mr. Trattorella, my boss, right?"

I turn my head to stared at him, my mouth is agape. Of course I knew Mr. Trattorella, he has been dad's boss my entire life, has even been like an Uncle to my Ashley and myself.

"Yeah Dad, I know Mr. Trattorella, does he know that you are quitting and moving to Vermont?"

Dad picks up his head, adjusts himself so that his body is facing toward me. He leans against the steering wheel with one arm, the other drapes along the back of the bench seat. I get a sick feeling in my stomach and for some odd reason I turn my gaze away from dad, looks at the front picture window. Mom stands in the window, tears run down her face. She raises her hand, places her palm against the glass. She nods her head, attempts to confirm and console. She backs away, the shear drapery cover moves to where my mom had stood, she fades into the background.

"Dad, what are you going to do about work?"

It is all I can think of at the moment, everything is running around in my head, jumbled and confused, my imagination runs rampant.

"Robbie, do you remember Lee? Lee Townsend? He worked with me as foreman for many years before he moved on to another business up north."

Trying to focus on the name, it's familiar, Lee Townsend? Yeah, he came to me. A bulk of a man Lee was. He had tried to make it in the NBA but was injured after just a short time in the pro's. He had some money saved up, came in to work with Mr Trattorella's building company only to become a partner in some venture that they had dreamed up, somewhere up north, New Hampshire or Maine if memory serves me correctly.

"Yep, wasn't he that big guy who was your foreman a few years back? Played pro B-ball or something like that but tore his ACL?"

"Good memory kiddo, that's him. Well, he and Mr. Trattorella went into partnership in a construction company in Keene, New Hampshire. I've been offered to be the foreman on Lee's, I mean Mr. Townsend's crew, what do you think about that?"

"WHOA! dad, does this mean that you are moving into the vacation house by yourself?"

"Robbie, that's up to you, you are a man now, the choice is yours and yours . You are more than welcome to come and live with me in Vermont when you are not in school. I have already secured a summer job for you with Mr. Townsend should you choose to come up north and live with me."

"What? there is just no question here dad, of course I want to live with you. Heck there is a rink just the next town over, I can even transfer my credits to Keene, go to school there!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there kiddo, I said nothing about you having to change Universities. We don't want to turn your entire world upside down just because your mom and I have grown apart."

"Dad, you know that it was my second choice of schools to begin with. They have an organized hockey program and I can see if I still qualify for the partial scholarship that they had offered me the first go round."

"If that's your choice Robbie, your mom and I will help you make the arrangements to change schools, that is if that is what YOU want, not that you are doing this as some sort of loyalty to me. You know what I mean, your sister with your Mom and you with me. I don't want you to think that you have to make a choice between either of us. This has to be because YOU want to do this, we will support you 100 % no matter what."

"Dad, can we swing by the rink before we go to the vacation house, I wish to let them know that I am moving, that I am going to have to give them short notice about leaving. Don't worry, I'm going to thank them a ton for the opportunity they have given me but I think that this is going to be the right choice for me, well all of us."

"Sure thing kiddo,, you know something, I am so proud of you, how you are taking all of this. I don't know if I would have been as reasonable about all of this had I been in your place."

The gear of the truck engages, motion causes what feels like an out of body experience. Was this all really happening and if it is, am I making the right choice? Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough.

I run out of the ice rink, heads back to the passenger side of the pick-up, dad turns to me. 

"Well, how did it go Robbie?"

"Fine Dad, my boss understands, he let me know that he was proud of my decision. He also said that if things did not work out up north that a job would always be available for me here."

A proud smile crosses dad's face, it's probably the first sign of being in better spirits dad has shown since he dropped the bomb-shell.

"Hey Dad, what about my stuff? My cloths, my hockey gear, all of my furniture? I didn't bring enough stuff with me to last for more than a few days."

"Got that all worked out with Mr Trattorella. Your mom agreed to pack up your stuff if you decided to make the move. Mr. Trattorella is coming up to see Mr. Townsend next week, he agreed to bring your stuff up with him then. You can just keep washing what you have until then. It is not like we need to have too many changes of cloths anyway. Heck, a pair of boxers, a pair of sneakers and we are set for in house life. We are gonna have to get some things for the house though, maybe take the weekend off working on the house, stop at the IKEA in Brattleboro, hows that sound to you?"

"Sounds good to me Dad." 

We head off down the road, we're on the turnpike in no time, head for what is home not the vacation house anymore. Dad reaches over with his right arm, places it around my shoulder. I feel him give me a reassuring squeeze, I respond by laying my head sideways onto his arm, feels light pressure as he tugs me toward him.

My head rests on his shoulder and partially on his chest. Dad's arm wraps around me, his hand drapes down, lightly pats my right peck. It's an odd feeling, like being a huge baby bird being guarded, held safely in the nest under the wing of my parent.

Burning tears fill my eyes, I closed my lids, sniffles, tries to be quiet as I can. Dad responds by squeezing my chest a little, I feel his scruffy chin brush the crew cut top of my head, he gently kisses my hair.

By our surroundings, I know it will be less than 15 minutes from where we are before we reach the log cabin rest center. I feel the pressure in my bladder becoming uncomfortable. I really have had a rough evening, then I thought to myself, heck, dad must be having an even worse time than me. I decide that I'm going to try and turn this rough time around, make it a time of bonding between the two of us. We are going to be an inseparable team, you know kinda like Batman and Robin, that is if Batman was Robins real father.

We take the familiar turn off the highway, day light has only started to fade. We come to a full stop in our regular parking space, I hop out, run to the rest room, dad follows me shortly.

Familiar sounds of the unbuckling of his belt, the slide of his heavy work pant fabric against his bulky, hairy thighs. I stand at the stall, let out a long stream of piss, then wash myself and cleaned the Thermos, heads back out to the truck.

It's still hot even though we were so many miles north of where we had started. Dad opens up his door, slides himself in behind the steering wheel. A quick turn of the key, a rev of the engine and off again toward our final destination.

Dad reaches over, embraced me, Draws me to his chest, security I find there. I hear his heart beating, he shuts off the air conditioning, rolls down his window, then reaches back, slides the rear window of the cab open. The rush of fresh air through the truck and the sudden rise in temperature made my head swim.

We continued our drive and the light became just a bit more orange on the horizon. Dad leans forward, removes his arm from around me. I hear him rustling objects he has accumulated on the dash board. The cap is popped off one of his White Owl Cigars casings. A quick flick of his metal Zippo Lighter. The aroma of cigar smoke fills my nostrils and my heart begins to race. Dad places his strong arm around my shoulders.

OK, I am going to do this, it might be wrong but I have to do it. My mind become lasers focused on my mission, I slide my head down off dad's shoulder, down his chest, rock hard stomach, my chin comes to rest on the top of his huge right thigh. Another puff on his cigar, dad runs his fingers back and forth through my short, cropped hair.

I rub the side of my cheek against the area where his pants zipper is concealed. Feels a mass underneath my face, it begins to grow, harden, become more substantial by the second. Dad readjusts his position, slides slightly forward in the seat. My head is pressing down, moving in a back and forth motion over. Using my teeth and tongue, I move the fabric over the zipper to the side, grabbed the metal tab of the zipper between my front teeth. I move my head toward the steering wheel until the zipper has been fully brought down.

Dad begins to massage the back of my neck, I turn my attention to the thick worn leather of the belt and buckle that wrapped around his waist. It takes some work, actually a great deal of effort but I get his belt undone. Now works on the large brass button that holds the top of Dad's work pants together. Once again my tongue and teeth do there trick, the button pops through the opening, reveals the dark hair hidden beneath the waistband.

Dad's breathing becomes labored, the bulge is growing at an alarming rate in his pants as it struggles to free itself. It's as if an angry Pit Bull was trying to escape through a screen door, the Pit Bull would ultimately win for sure! Dad raises himself slightly above his seat, with one hand pushes his work pants and his boxers down as far as he can. It's a struggle but one that I'm thrilled to assist him with.

With dad's cloths pushed down below his knees, his raging hard-on rises before my eyes, it springs upward, then falls forward against the steering wheel from it's own shear weight and size. I breath in deeply, open my mouth wide, extend my tongue as far as it will go. I gently touch the very tip of the obelisk of muscular flesh before me. I run my tongue in a circular motion over the area where the foreskin has receded and the angry head of dad's manhood forcefully stands proud. A little drool of clear fluid oozes from the large opening at the end of the monstrous helmet shaped head of his penis. Eagerly, I flick my tongue over it, smear the liquid all over the opening slit. I begin my decent downward towards the base of the rod. My chin buries in the rough bush of dark black course curly hair.

Dad spread his legs wide, accidentally hits the gas a little hard, the truck makes a sudden lurch forward. Dad recovers quickly, puts both hands on the steering wheel, his White Owl Cigar still firmly held between the fingers of his left hand. A sigh of relief, I feel the muscles in dad's legs relax. He must have clenched his ass cheeks so tightly that had there been anything between them, it would now be as thinly pressed as tissue paper.

A quick pull on his cigar, exhale of smoke, tantalizes my nostrils. I open my mouth almost unhinging my jaw, I raised my head about a foot above dad's pubic hairs. I engulf the head of his penis, slide my lips downward over the shaft until I gag, and then gag again. I refuse to give up. I breath in slowly through my nose, work my tongue from side to side around the shaft. I force myself to open my jaw a little further, my tongue slips out past my lips, slithers further down dad's steel hard shaft, right down to the very tips of his pubic hairs.

Dad stretches his right arm away from the steering wheel, I feel his rough calloused fingers slip under the waist band of my nylon shorts, then beneath the elastic top of my boxer-briefs. His fingers do not stop there. He leans to the right, his chest pushes down on the back of my head. My throat opens up. For the first time in my life, the head of his penis is guided all the way down my throat. I gag, dad tries to withdraw himself but my desire to drive my face down, to rub my nose against the hair covered groin is far too strong.

Dad's fingers are removed from underneath my shorts. I hear my him spit, then fingers moving toward my ass crack like a divining rod toward underground water. Spit covered fingers spread glop over my ass hole, rubs back and forth, then forcefully enters my hole. His index and middle fingers invade my hole without mercy. I honestly do not wish for mercy, I love the painful sensation shooting from my hole to my gut. Electric current lights the end of hard penis like a light bulb. Dad abruptly withdraws his fingers. I'm determined to continue my assault on the monster in my mouth, I'm not going to stop now.

Dad takes the empty plastic tube that once contained his White Owl cigar, west the end with spit, presses it against the opening of my ass hole and then it slips in. Brilliant lights flash before my eyes, I feel the hard plastic tube being roughly rammed to it's very end. It just barely hits my prostate but boy, it sure makes me arch my back like a Halloween cat! The cigar tube is withdrawn, then rammed back in, time and time again. After a few dozen forceful stabbings of my hole, the additional pressure of his fingers at my holes opening.

"Take it you little bitch!"

Two fingers are rammed along side the hard plastic cigar tube.

"Yeah, take it you, daddy's little fuck!"

He's talking dirty to me, I had not expected it but man it turns me on to no end. I begin to work his dick up and down. Pulling all the way out to the tip, then slam myself down until I feel the head of his dick stretching the walls of my gullet.

The hum of the trucks engine lessens as we approach our exit.

Dad withdraws his fingers quickly but leaves the cigar tube planted in my ass. Not wishing to stop my assault on his penis, I even quicken up my pace. I hear the gravel covered driveway crunching under the tires of the pick-up.



The Vacation House Ch. 05



I continue to slam my face down into his course hairs. The massive spear rams down my throat as far as I can make it go, then I pull my head back, allow my tongue to run the entire length of his throbbing dick.

The shear volume of spit that has escaped my lips drips down dad's pubes, it glistens on his large inflated ball sack. I ram my face down again, choke, gag and drool some more, loving every single spasm, contraction of my throat around his burning hot meat.

The crunch of loose gravel under the pick-up tires comes to an abrupt halt. The gear is forced into place by dad's huge paw. We're home, no longer a place to be considered a get away vacation spot but OUR home. I feel his over-sized hands placed on each side of my head, he gently lifts me away from the object that I've become so obsessed with. It slips from my open mouth, bangs good and hard against the steering wheel.

"Huh?" 

I could not have come up with anything other than this mindless response to the sudden loss of his dick from my mouth.

"Robbie, c'mon we have to get the truck unpacked, get things squared away. We have lot's of work to do to make this place inhabitable for the long haul. Gotta get down to brass tacks kiddo, figure out what we really need and what can wait since money is gonna be a little tricky from now on."

My breathing is labored. I look up into dad's dark eyes, they stare back at me, there is no way of hiding the little bit of a devilish smirk that creeps across his face.

"But, but, but what about this? Can't we finish up here before going in?"

I was on this path and not willing to get away from the excitement that we are sharing even now that we have arrived.

"I'll tell you what kiddo, you will keep that thing up your behind and we can call it a night for the rest of this stuff, OK?"

I'm shocked, I have so much pent up tension, sexual excitement in me that I am just about to go out of my mind.

"NO, it's not OK. I am gonna rupture something if we don't keep this up. It's not like I have had the chance to just get it out of my system dad, I have been thinking, dreaming and fantasizing about this for so long that it just has to happen. I think I will just die if it doesn't."

A loud smack and sudden shock of pain shoots through my body as dad's huge paw spanks my nylon shorts clad backside. It is surprising but so hot that it just makes things even worse for me.

"You can't just leave me hanging like this, you can't be some sort of tease, just walk away."

I'm talking nonsense, it is exactly how I feel, I'm angry at the same time as being turned on. I could hump a tree if I were not afraid of getting splinters.

"So Robbie, what do you propose we do about this? Don't pull punches, just spit it out. It's clear that you have put a lot of thought and effort into what you think should happen. Well, why don't you let me in on this little play you've created."

I sit up, a sudden double stab of delightful discomfort from the large welt created by dad's spank and the hard White Owl tube that is still up my butt.

"OK, you want to know dad? Well, I am just gonna put it out there, take it for what it's worth. These are the things that are building up in me. I have to get them out or something is gonna explode."

Dad's chuckle torments me, prods me into hitting him full force with the thoughts that are just coming up from my stomach and shooting out of my mouth.

"I want you to take me dad. Take me, use me like you would some little slut bitch. I want you to shove that monster dick of yours into me. I want it down my throat, rammed up my butt, I want to service you like no one has ever serviced you before... Dad, I want you to RAPE the hell out of me, a lot... I want you to stretch me out and whoop my ass, make it hurt as much as you can.. I want,,,," 

Stops for a second to take a breath, realizes the shocked look on his face. Holy shit, had I just said all of that OUT-LOUD? Oh my god, he is gonna think I am some sort of sex crazed sicko, hell, I am a sex crazed sicko! But he's my dad and the most beautiful, sexy thing that has ever walked the earth. I want him, he's right here next to me, I just have to figure out how to get him without getting myself thrown out on the streets, disowned for being some psychotic whackadoo.

Dad's right hand reaches to retrieve the keys from the ignition. I hear the cranking of the parking break as he pushes it into the lock position. His eyes burn into mine, what the hell is he thinking about? Is he going to kick the shit out of me and toss me out? Is he going to tell me that I can not stay with him here? WHAT?

"Common Robbie, let's take this inside and discuss this in private. You know, the squirrels and deer out here are not really able to keep a secret."

Pulls my head back, reaches for the cooler chest filled with the pony size beer, iced tea and sandwiches packed back in Rhode Island... God, Rhode Island, it seems a million miles away and years ago.

Dad opens the drivers door, grabs the old wrinkled paper bag containing our clean cloths. They're the only things to wear until we drive up to Brattleboro, do some shopping. The door closes without being slammed, OK, he is not mad, or is he just trying to keep his temper under control. Damn it, why couldn't I have waited a bit, with the whole divorce issue, moving, new job, my changing Universities, hell, he's had enough crap thrown at him to cause any lesser person to go off the deep end.

I step out of the passenger side, feel the loose gravel under my boots. Dad comes around the truck reaches out to gently close the door for me... My hands are pretty full so I am happy for his assistance, maybe he is OK with what I just blurted out. Who knows, maybe he will sleep on it, just forget about the whole thing in the morning. His strong arm wraps around my shoulder, huge rugged hand firmly grips my shoulder. He guides me to the front door of the vacation house.

My feet move instinctively until we come to the concrete pad below the door sill. Dad releases my shoulder, his arm moves down my back. The light brush of his calloused fingers over my back side reminds me of the tube that is still planted deeply in my rear. I feel my dick twitch, begin to swell, my knee's get a little weak.

The jingle of the keys, click and the entrance to the living room is opens before us. Dad does not say a word, not a sound. He brushes the back of my thinly clad backside again until his hand is firmly gripping my shoulder. He guides me into the living room, then into the dimly lit kitchen. I place the cooler chest and the radio on the counter, dad in turn places the bag of clean cloths along side them.

I feel pressure as his grip on my shoulder increases. He turns me so that I now face him. This weird feeling of his powerful control over me makes me acutely aware that I have popped one hell of a boner. It sticks straight out between the two of us. The very tip of the fabric covered dick in my shorts just brushes below Dad's belly button.

"You know what you are asking for kiddo? You know, what you said back in the truck? Do you actually realize what those words and actions really mean?" His voice is calm and deliberate, not angry or forced."

I hold my breath, let the words roll over in my mind, over and over again. Feel his grip on my shoulder release, slides his hand down my back. I arch, feel the pressure of the White Owl tube slip a little out of my hole, it presses against the inside of my under-wear.

"Yeah, I understand what I said dad, meant every single word of it and then some. I am burning up inside, I don't know what I will do if I can't get it out"

Dad's powerful hand grabs the underside of my butt cheeks, squeezes hard, releases and then smacks my ass with all of his might. My head drops back, mouth agape, I close my eyes, the fantastic sensation of electric pain and hot pressure in my bowels spread throughout my body.

"SMACK!"

I'm spun around, slammed chest down onto the long scrubbed wood dining table. Dad's hand pushes down on the area between my shoulder blades then and moves up and presses the right side of my face firmly against the table.

"STAY!"

I dare not move. Left in this very prone position, I sense that sad has backed away from his hold over me. I barely breath for fear of disobeying his order. I hear the refrigerator door being opened, then closed. A small clunk of something being placed on the counter. The junk drawer pulls open with its very distinctive sound. There is no other sound like that junk drawer. All manners of odds and ends find their way into this catch all. I hear the rummaging of items, a loud clunk as something heavy is placed on the counter.

His hands are at the waist band of my nylon shorts, causes me to jump. His strong hand forces my face onto the surface of the table. I stare out the back window as I lay in this forced prone position. Outside the window is a fantastic view of the Connecticut River, the railroad tracks that runs along it's banks, the beautiful sloping landscape of farms that lay directly across the river, ideal looking New Hampshire farms.

The rush of cool air brushes along my naked backside, my shorts and boxer briefs are being roughly yanked down and off of me. A big old work boot presses against my foot tells me to step out of my clothing. A few well placed kicks to my instep, I spread my legs far apart, a good three feet between them, I feel my exposed ass to the air, inside pressure begins to slowly force the cigar tube a quick expulsion from my insides. Just as it's about to pop out, the very end of the hard plastic tube still spreading my ass hole, is pulled out followed by a sudden and embarrassing release of gas... I squint my eyes, holds my breath, die a thousand deaths in my head at this bodily function.

The sounds behind me are odd, I can not for the life of me figure out what it is. I strain my senses in an attempt to discern what was going on. I'm in such a prone, open position yet at the same time, I realize that my dick has grown to it's full size. It swings back and forth along with my nut sack. The cool, silky sensation that spreads up the crack of my ass is stimulating, very much appreciated. The lips of my ass-hole, a bit swollen and sensitive from the tube and finger invasion that had occurred back in the Pick-Up. It feels good, really good and the tingles runs from my hole, down my taint and causes my balls in my distended sack to pull up a bit toward my crotch.

The force of a couple big, calloused, greased fingers being shoved into my hole gets me all up on my tip toes.. This is wonderful, my dreams are coming to be reality. Shivers in anticipation as the fingers are withdrawn abruptly only to be more forcefully replaced by another finger and a large glob of the cool greasy substance.

The insertion, withdrawal, insertion, slamming, pulling, slamming abuse of my ass-hole continues in near silence for what seems an eternity. Another glob of cool smoothness is placed onto the lips of my hole, no fingers are inserted this time. I hear what ever heavy object is being dragged from the counter top.

Pressure against my waiting ass-hole, it's larger, harder than anything that I had imagined during my multiple jerk-off sessions. There were bunches of them over the past month as I found myself whacking myself off when ever I got the chance. I was walking around in a perpetual state of hard-on.

The pressure begins in earnest, I feel the oddly shaped object press mightily against my inviting hole. It's very heavy and the end is flat. This does not make it easy going getting into my hole, everything else that had been pushed up me before has had a tapered end.. No, this is not tapered at all, it is flat, hard and really big.

Dad's hand presses firmly against the middle of my back. He is leans over me, bends even further over my back, feel his course whiskers rub along side of my face. His whiskers press hard into my jaw, cheek, see brilliant white light as the splitting pain in my ass rips through me like a knife.

The blunt ended object is pushed deep into my ass, rips its way past the tender walls of my hole. Farther, more painful, the object buries into me. It becomes less wide as it Seemingly, it tapers at length, the very thick blunt end continues it's pressure and pain filled route into my bowels. The feeling of having to shit becomes almost overwhelming, the onslaught of the very heavy object in my ass continues, it's relentless.

Dad's whiskers move across my jaw, I smell his cigar tinged breath burn into my senses. Lips touch the side of my mouth, so gentle, soft in comparison to the stubble. I kiss back, let out a little moan, a plea,, not a plea to stop, hell no, more a whimper for more, for this attack to continue. I can not control what is ultimately going to happen but I have feelings, desires to have this go on forever.

"PLEASE, please rape me."

The extreme jab of the invading object comes to a halt. I'm impaled but good, feel the blunt cold metal end of the objects sharp cold metal claw like protrusions as it is pressed into my muscular bubble butt.

A hammer, I am being plowed with the handle of dad's hammer. I see it in my mind's eye, the dimpled hard rubber covering over the wide tapered shaft of the handle. The worn dark grey cold steel head, nail claw ends, ripping into the taught flesh of my lightly fuzz covered exposed butt cheeks.

Dad slides his hand down from the small of my back, begins to massage my exposed cheeks. They are parted by his well worn expertly used building tool. His short nails scrape my flesh, light golden hairs that cover my ass cheeks.

He stands up behind me, hands leave my flesh. The hammer, firmly buried to the hilt in my hole, is going no where. It feels as if it is mounted in cement, pain caused by its ripping invasion and the pressure against my insides produces the overwhelming sensation of having to expel everything from inside of me. My balls to pull up even more, they feel like two avocado seeds inside a tight and non-inflated balloon.

The familiar sound of dad's belt buckle being undone, excitement runs to my brain. I feel tingly, finger tips, toes, right down to the downy hairs on the back of my neck. The leather is pulled quickly from the heavy work pants, rubs each loop as it is pulled free from around his hips. I hear a scary snap of leather, dad walks over to the side of the scrubbed wood table. Holds his old worn leather work belt, doubled up, the buckle end in his right hand, the curved end in his left. He pushes his hands toward each other, the belt makes an elliptical shape of leather.

"SNAP!"

He pulls his hand apart, causes the top and the bottom of the belt to snap together, a deafening sound of leather against leather. A smirk crosses dad's face, sends a chill up my spine. My sphincter tightens up hard against the hammer rammed up my ass. My legs shake, part from fear, part from extreme anticipation. He walks back out of sight. I gaze out over the picturesque vista outside, light becomes dim, the tension in the air more palpable.

"WHACK!" 

Pain shoots through me, it's excruciating.

"WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!"

The cadence of blows, like a drum beats my ass it's a very painful assault, I fixate on the brutal beating being administered to my exposed butt. My ass-hole spasms against the shaft of the hammer as the beating becomes more violent. Heat builds up in my pulled up balls, then gushes out of the end of my rock hard dick... Shoots burst after splattering burst of fiery liquid upon the floor between my spread legs.

The belt hits my burning ass, one last time. The heavy hammer is pushed even deeper into my hole, the claw end rips into the severely beaten flesh of my backside. The ripping withdrawal of the hammer from my ass-hole leaves me with the overwhelming feeling of having to relieve my bowels and quickly. I stand up as fast, run down the hallway toward the guest bathroom knows that I may not make it in time. I hold myself tight, squeezes with all my might, my burning butt cheeks firmly plant on the cool seat of the toilet.

I drop my head, tears burn my eyes. I squint them closed, a tear is pushed out from between each of the lids. They trail down my cheeks, drips off my jaw, lands on my naked thighs. I quiver and shake as the release of tension washes over me, shivers like a child on a freezing cold day.

The sound of water from the shower head in the master bathroom gives me goose bumps up and down my legs and arms. I look up, the silhouette before me leans against the doorway. One hand on it's hip, the other holds what looks like a looped belt. Light from behind the figure makes it nearly impossible to see the strong features that I know are present. The large hair covered chest, massive muscular thighs straining beneath the tan fabric of the dirty work pants. 



The Vacation House Ch. 06



I rise slowly to my feet, tears leave a thin trail of wetness on my cheeks. The silhouette before me remains as still as it had when I first saw him standing there. Walking cautiously toward dad, he begins to move very slowly. He raises both arms above my head. I feel the leather belt he is holding become a collar around my neck, it pulls through the buckle, creates a leash.

Dad turns his back to me, broad shoulders, narrow waist cut a formidable outline. A tug on my neck leads me to follow him out into the hallway, past the bedroom that was meant to have been for my sister's use, then into the master bedroom at the far end of the hall. Led toward the master bathroom, water pours from the shower head, bounces off of the bottom of the glass enclosed shower stall.

Dad reaches for the chrome handle of the shower, guides me in. The water cascades over my crew cut blonde hair, down over my shoulders. I shudder as the wetness envelopes me. Dad steps in along side me, bows his head, allows the water to run over the back of his neck, down his back. A flow of water runs directly down the crack of his backside, disappears between the dark furrow of his butt cheeks. The leash and collar are released, it drops limp against my stomach. The metal belt buckle loosens its grip on the skin at the front of my throat. I just let it hang there, in no hurry to make any movement that dad has not initiated.

The wonderful smell of Ivory soap and dad's natural musky scent mingles with the light vapor of steam which rises from the cascading shower water. The gentle touch of dad's soap laden hand upon my stomach causes me to tighten my muscles. I become tense at the very touch, anticipation shoots to every extremity.

Soap is rubbed up and down my abs, over my chest, shoulders and the the back of my neck. Dad's formidable arms wrap around me, pulls me close to his naked body. The heat between us is greater than the temperature of the water. The scent of our bodies and the Ivory soap goes straight to my head. I feel intoxicated, my head swoons from the pressure, closeness of our naked bodies. His soapy hand drops to my back side, is liberally applied until my entire rear end is lathered. He gently rubs me, his calloused fingers massaging.

Dad leans in closer, his whiskered chin brushes along side my smooth cheek. His lips touch mine, his tongue lightly flicks, traces the outline of my lips. He places the soap bar into my hand, removes his lips from mine. I feel him slowly turn so that his back is presented to me. His right arm raises above his head, he places his outstretched hand against the glass wall of the shower enclosure. I rub the soap bar all over his shoulders, down his back and across his hips. I reach for the nylon scrub ball that hangs on the shower handle, soap it up until it is completely filled with lather, rubs it all over his ass cheeks and between them.

Kneels down before this magnificent specimen of manhood, gently rubbing the soapy scrub up and down the insides, outsides, back of his muscular legs. He turns, I continue cleaning this god of sexual desire. I slowly stand up, scrub his low hanging balls and semi-hardened penis. Reaches toward the shower handle, I hang up the scrub. The bar of soap is rubbing between my hands a lather rises. I carefully create a large opening between my fingers, places them over the foreskin covered mass that juts away from dad's tight stomach. I move my cupped hands up to the base of his penis, slowly retraces the path towards the very tip of his mushroom shaped head. Uses the tips of my index fingers to probe the foreskin opening rubs the inside of his foreskin, gently, runs my fingers around the bulbous head.

The water begins to loose it's warmth, dad abruptly moves sideways. He takes some shampoo and applies it to his hair, rubs it all over his face before rinsing off. The faucet handle is turned, the stream of water becomes a trickle. Dad reaches up, takes hold of the dangling end of the wet leather belt, gives it a little tug and leads me out of the shower, I gladly follow. He grabs one of the two thick, fluffy terry cloth towels that hang on the bar opposite the shower stall. The belt is released, dangling it comes to rest over my swollen crotch . A towel is placed over my head, I feel slight pressure as dad begins to tousle my hair, rubs my ears, face, neck, continues to move the towel over my entire body until I am completely dry.

He drapes the dampened towel over the top of the shower stall, gives my rear a little pat as he guides me toward the master bedroom. I walk into the bedroom, dad closes the bathroom door behind me.

"CLICK!" 

The bathroom door lock echoes through the room, my shoulders drop, I am so confused, what's happening? I walk in the darkness of the room, sits on the edge of the king sized bed. Lays back places my head on the pillow. Stares up at the ceiling, I notice the pattern of the windows being outlined caused by the fading sunlight.

Half an hour has passes since I lay down here, I hear the click of the master bathroom door. My head stays as still as possible, the leather belt collar around my neck, the leash lays down my front, it's end disappears between my naked legs. Dad walks over to his side of the bed. I see that he has a pair of clean boxers on. He sits down on the pillow end of the bed, my head turns slowly toward him. See's him resting his back against the wall, his head turned toward the window. Light glistens off the outline of his face as it dances off of his freshly shaved skin. Silence sometimes can be deafening.

"Dad, when was the first time you had sex?"

He turns his face toward me, even in the dimly lit room I can see that he is smiling at me. He reaches over, takes the belt around my neck, loosens it. He slips it off over my head, tosses it onto the floor along with his pile of dirty work cloths.

"Tell you what kiddo, you go first, be honest, then I will tell you everything about mine. OK?"

He shifts himself on the bed, brings his legs up into a crossed Indian style position. I bring myself onto my left side, props my head up onto my left hand.

"OK, here goes." 

A little chuckle comes from deep in my throat as I begin to relive my past.

"Well, it is like this, I actually had not had sex with anyone else, well that is if you don't count my hand, before last month when you and I did what we did in the shower."

"What?"

"YUP, just me and my palm pal. Well, I did whack off a few times with my friend A.J. in the same room the summer before I went to URI. Other than that, nothing, not once, not-ta. I'd talk about girls, A.J. would tell me all about his most recent sexual conquests. I'd make up a story about some girl and go with it. I'd lie to him, tell him that I was having sex but really dad, I've never done any of the things that I brag about."

Sitting there with the most shocked look on his face, dad is staring at me.

"Why did you have to lie? I thought you were getting along with your girlfriends, really well. Your mother and I had discussed it on several occasions, we thought you might have been, well active, you know, sexually. We hoped that you were doing things protected and all. We worried about someday getting a knock on the door from some girls angry father telling us that you had knocked up his daughter, that he was going to kick your teeth down your throat."

I can't hold back the laughter that washes over me, dad breaks out laughing too. The tension has finally broken, we are in the full throws of a giggle fit, the kind where for no reason, none at all, the slightest thing sets you off then sends the other one off all over again. I finally find the ability to calm myself down to a muffled chuckle, we both gasp for air.

"You see dad, I've had my chances, heck more chances than I can count. I've had girls during make out sessions who would literally start throwing themselves at me, not just kissing but putting their hands on my crotch, trying to open up my fly. guiding my hand between their legs. I'd give them a rub over their underwear, even licked one girls naked boob but I was always kinda scared that I would not be able to get completely hard, that I would become a laughing stock for being some sort of fag. Well, that's my story, YOUR TURN!"

"Alright Robbie, now you have to understand, this was years ago, long before your mother and I met." 

Dad breathed in deeply, seemingly to brace himself against the wall for support.

"Back when I was 18 years old, I used to spend summer weekends with my grandma and grandpa at their house in Bristol. I remember it being so hot, they did not have air conditioning, so I would stay outside pretty much all of the time that I was there, well except for nights. I slept on a futon sofa in the finished basement next to the bar that grandpa had built years earlier."

He pauses for a moment, takes another deep breath, drops his head a little, looks into his lap.

"My cousin Bo came to stay some weekends. See, my parents, aunt and uncle were going to spend their weekends in Newport at a friends house. They use to have these little get together parties that would last for the entire weekend. Grandpa would drive us back home on Monday afternoon once the shore and tourist traffic had calmed down. Bo was 18 1/2 then, thin, tall, looked a lot like my grandma, even more like his mother, aunt Elsie. You know how you told me about how you and A.J. would jerk off, make up stories about the girls that you had made it with? Well, maybe A.J. made it with but the ones that you were making up to fit in? Bo and I would go out to where we were building this tree house, way out in the woods behind grandpa's. We would be allowed to use the excess wood and bent up nails and things that were left over from the shed that he had built even allowed us to use his tools."

Dad pauses again, swallows hard, turns his head. The sun has gone down, moonlight filters in lights us both up.

"One day it was really, really hot, we had worked all day on that tree house. We were so excited about getting it done talked about how we were going to sleep out there, bring our lunches and dinners if grandma would let us. We convinced ourselves that it was going to be the best tree house ever built. Really, it was pretty cool, I had some decent building skills even back then, Bo was a willing and able apprentice. We had taken off most of our cloths during the heat of the day, were sitting on the floor of the tree-house. Two walls were sorta built up, we made sure that the sides that would block the view of anyone that might happen by were the ones put up first. We were exhausted, overcome by the heat, I had not had anything to drink all day but Bo had been prepared, brought a milk jug filled with water. It was warm but that was probably the best water I had had in my life."

"AND?"

I impatiently urge dad on, he gives me a little smirk.

"I'm getting there. Keep your shorts on wontcha?"

I laugh. 

"Don't have shorts on, don't have anything on, you forget?"

"Shut-up and let me get on with this. Bo and I were just laying there on our backs, trying to deal with the heat, admiring our handiwork, how far we had come in just a few days of building. I felt something pressing on the front of my shorts. I remember sitting up as quick as a shot, there was Bo, naked, butt fuckin naked. He had slipped his shorts off, laying on his side next to me with his long arm stretched out, his hand right over my, well my crotch."

"Ooh, so that was the first time you had sex? Your cousin Bo touched you?"

"Shut-up!"

"No, that is not the first time I had sex. You see, I just sat there, Bo looked at me, I looked at him, he smiled, I smiled, he unzipped my fly and I let him do it. Next thing I know my shorts are being pulled down off me, I'm balancing on my palms, raising my butt up in the air so that he could pull them and my underwear all the way off. He slips them off me, we just sit there looking at each others naked bodies. I had no idea what to do or what to expect. I'd seen other boys naked in the showers when we changing in the locker rooms, at the beach but this was completely different. Bo had a hard on, I was starting to tingle down there too. He was real pale like, looked as if parts of him had never seen the sun. His hair around his dick was kinda this light reddish blond color, not like yours, more reddish. Thin too, kinda like his penis, it was longish but was thin. He did not have the skin over it like mine does. I just had to reach out and touch it, I had never seen or felt one that did not have skin on it. Hell, I had not touched anyone's penis except for my own before so it just seemed kinda like magic to me."

"Holy shit Dad, you jerked your cousin off?"

"All right, if you are going to interrupt me one more time, that's it, I won't finish, I will never tell you what happened next. Got It? Good, now SHUT-UP! I looked down at my own dick and it was getting pretty hard, I was so embarrassed. You see, Bo's dick was all smooth, perfectly straight without the skin over the head of it. His hair around his crotch was not all heavy like mine, you could see his dick right down to the base, there was pretty much no hair on his balls. Mine were covered in a layer of dark course hair, you could not see the base of my dick and it was covered with all these dark purple and blue veins. Mine was way bigger too, all I could think is that because Bo did not have the skin on his, his was thinner than mine and that his was normal. Mine was more like our family dog, I thought I was not normal, like his. 

"Bo did not seem to think that my dick was ugly though. He stared at it, could not stop mentioning about how big it was. How at 18 he was less than half as wide, that I must have been a good 5" longer than his. He started to tell me how all the real men in our family have these big dicks that are covered with thick hair, hair everywhere. Only thing is that his mother would always tell his father how disgusting it was to have so much hair on his shoulders and back. That she was one night going to shave him clean while he slept. Bo went on to tell me how he loved to see his dad walk around the house in his boxers, how he would sneak around just to get a glimpse of him when he had his privates out peeing. You know, I was floored when Bo put his mouth on my dick. I must have looked like a cartoon with my eyes bugging out. I remember how he just looked up at me with those big blue eyes of his, opened up his mouth and, well he let it slide right in."

I notice that during dad's recounting of his first time, my dick is hard as a rock again, a little wet spot has started to spread on the sheet where it hangs down to. I stare at him, breath in short stabbing breaths, hangs on every word he utters.

"I let him do it, I just laid back, let him move his head up and down my dick. I was hard as a telephone pole by then. I could hear him gagging every once in a while. I picked up my head to see if he had just thrown up on me or something but nope, he was eagerly moving his head up and down, licking the tip of my dick. He would pull his face away, went down and started to lick my balls. For a moment I thought that that was the most gross thing that could ever happen, but boy was I in for a shock."

"What? What? What shocked you dad?"

"Bo got up, spit into the palm of his hand. I had no idea what the hell was going on. Did I do something in his mouth that he was spitting out? Was he going to slap me in the face with it? Then he moved one leg over me so that he was standing me. His legs spread so that one foot was on one side of me, the other foot to the other side. Bo reaches back, I could see that he was rubbing that spit covered hand up and down between his butt cheeks. I thought maybe he was going to jerk off and goo all over me. I got all grossed out again, then he started to squat down, knelled right over my hard dick. He took it in his hand, you know the one that he had rubbed up his butt. Well, he took hold of it, pointed it right between those white hairless butt cheeks of his. I went to say no but nothing would come out of my mouth. I just lay there on my back, on the floor of the partially built tree house. Bo began to line my hard dick up between his cheeks. I could feel them really tightly gripping at the end of my dick. He took his other hand, spit into it again. He then held it out in front of my face and said, "SPIT", so I spit into his hand, a big ole glob of it mixed with the white spit that he had already done. He reached back, spread our mixed up spit up and down, all over the exposed part of my dick. I could hear him breath in, felt the very end of my dick straining at his super tight hole. It was trying to go in but Bo's ass-hole was so tight that no matter how hard he pushed himself down on me, it just would not go in. "FUCK!" Bo screamed, a little loud but I was no where in my right mind to think about anything other than the super tight pressure against my dick.

"Bo held my dick even more tightly in his hand, I though the end of it was going to explode. It was bending under the pressure of his weight, then I felt something that I never imagined I would ever feel, the huge head of my dick popped in about an inch into his butt-hole. Bo let out a cry, tears began to stream down his face. He turned his face up, looked into the leaves of the tree above us. I could not understand why he would do this to himself if it hurt him so much that it would make him cry. I told him to stop, that I did not mean to hurt him, that I was sorry. He told me to SHUT-UP, he forced half of my dick right up his hole. OH MY GOD, it was so tight it actually hurt my dick! All I could imagine is that if Bo hurt as much in his butt as my dick hurt being squeezed by him. He sat there with me halfway up inside him for the longest time, I felt the tight squeeze begin to let up a little. Bo did not move, not one inch more, he had stopped crying, was looking me directly in my eyes."

"He reached forward, grabbed hold of both of my nipples, pinched them and it hurt, hurt BAD! I hated it and yelped out for him to stop it. He didn't listen, instead, he breathed in deep, said FUCK ME, planted his ass good and hard against my hips. His ass swallowed my entire dick right to my balls, I could feel them against the bottom rounds of his tight ass. I throbbed inside him, let Bo continue his control over me. He started to move himself up and down in a slow motion on my dick, it was tight but I could feel his grip loosening up with each time he would pull up. He quickened his pace, in a short while he was bouncing up and down on me, riding my dick like a jack hammer determined to break concrete."

"I felt my balls pulling up, the pressure inside them getting to the point of no return. I let out a little yelp. Bo swore at me, called me something that I really did not like, the next thing I could feel was this hot splashing all over my chest. It hit my face, got into my hair. I just let loose, let go inside of his ass. I gushed so much I almost thought I was taking a pee inside of him. Bo slid up and off of me, he collapsed onto his side. He was panting, making all sorts of noises like an animal. I looked down at my dick, it was still standing stiff. It was slick and shiny looking, it continued to throb. I looked over at Bo as he reached back to touch himself where I had recently been inside of him. He brought his hand back to look at it. His fingertips were all wet and red. He started screaming, no, no, NO, he began to cry. This time, he did not look back at me, tried telling him I was sorry, that I did not mean to hurt him but he did not seem to hear me . He took his dirty sweat soaked shirt and wiped his butt. When he pulled it away to examine it, we both saw the amount of blood that had soaked into the shirt. Bo grabbed his underwear, his shorts and pulled them on as quickly as he could. Grabbed hold of the rope that we had hung to get up and down from the tree house with. He climbed down and ran back to the house without saying another word to me."




The Vacation House Ch. 06



"Was Bo all right dad? I'm really worried about what might have happened to him."

Dad pauses for a moment, then picks up right where he had left off.

"I got cleaned up as quickly as I could, used leaves from the tree to wipe myself off. I was so worried that Bo was going to go and tell grandpa and grandma that I had done this to him, that I had hurt him real bad, that he might even bleed to death out his butt and it was going to be all my fault. I worried that they would call the police, come and arrest me. put me in jail or worse, tell my parents what I had done to Bo."

"So, what happened to Bo dad?"

"He went back to the house, and told grandma that he had fallen into some dog poop out in the woods, that he had to go take a bath to wash it off. I never did speak to Bo about what happened out in the tree house. We barely had eye contact for the rest of that weekend, heck, it is like ice between us when we are in the same room even now during holidays. I don't think he has ever told anyone about what happened between us that summer. As a matter of fact, you know that he has 6 kids. I sometimes wonder if he is trying to make up for what we did by doing it with his wife as much as he does. Now kiddo, you know how your ole man lost it the first time. Get some sleep you, we are going to head up to IKEA and get some stuff for the house in the morning. I want to get an early start."

Lying onto my back and cradling my head into the pillow, I just stare up at the shadows on the ceiling. My mind races with so many thoughts, so many weird things. My stomach growls and gurgles loudly, we didn't have dinner tonight, I can hardly wait for my donuts and coffee in the morning.



The Vacation House Ch. 07



I am so exhausted that I can hardly believe it. Yeah, things are starting to settle down here in Vermont, I'm getting on well with Mr. Townsend at the job site. I'm working half days, riding in with dad, then I take a bus when I am off work, head to this ice rink located near our new home. Some great new friends here, getting on really well with this guy Tag who is a born and breed Vermonter. H pretty much knows everyone that has ever skated in the area. He's super cool, way more of a hot wire personality than I ever have been. We are becoming sort of a Lone Ranger and Tonto team, he's got my back and I've got his.

Tag has been with the same girl since he was in grade school. Melanie is damned gorgeous and nice as anyone I have ever met, she does not push at me that I am not actively dating or even really trying. For that matter, neither does Tag, it's what's making me feel more comfortable with them than any of my friends from Rhode Island.

I'm sitting in dad's pick up, waiting for him to come out and get us to the job site. The sun has not burned through the night sky yet, just a bit of dark orange off on the horizon. This is the time we leave every day for work, now that it's early August it is pretty warm even at this ungodly hour. I hear the garage door close, then the driver's door opens up. Dad scoots himself in and tosses my hockey bag across the bench seat at me.

"Damn Robbie, don't you ever wash this stuff? Smells like something died in there. I told you to get some cedar chip shavings and put them in your bag. Trust me, it will keep that rot bag from gagging me every time I go into the garage. And, next time don't forget your stuff, it is your responsibility, not mine to make sure you've got your things. You're the one who wants to skate, I'm working so much that I barely have the time to read the newspaper at night before I crash."

I feel badly to be so forgetful, if it were not for him watching out for me I would be up shit's creek without a hockey stick. Crap, I have to get things together cause it is going to be even worse once I start Uni in a month.

Dad has agreed that once I go back to school, he will drop me off every morning on his way to work. That way he won't have to figure out a way to pay for me to live near campus in New Hampshire. It's not really that far anyway, I can always sleep on the way there, then take a local bus back to his site so we can ride back home together.

Things are going to work out well for both of us financially this way too. I can put the money I make into an account for working a few afternoons after classes and on Saturdays. Mr. Townsend has been really cool about allowing me to have a real flexible schedule. This is gonna allow me to try out for the travel team with the University and still have a job waiting when ever I don't have to be at scrimmages or practice.

The truck heads down the familiar lonely pine tree lined roads, they lead to the bridge we take in Bellows Falls to get over to New Hampshire. After a quick stop at the local doughnut shop, we're back on the road. I open the bag that dad brought breakfast in, pull back the tabs on both our coffee cups. Places them into the cup holder between us, I toss a napkin onto dad's lap. He pulls out a glazed doughnut, pushes it into his open mouth.

The sun is starting to break through the dark sky, there are a few more cars on the road. We pass a familiar figure of a woman on horseback, she is there every morning and we are in about the same place every time we pass her. Dad is a stickler for being on time, very rarely deviates from his schedule, I get that from him too. I actually get kinda anxious when I think I might be late for something, tend to be right on time whether coming or going. Creatures of habit, yep that's what we are.

We pull into the job site, the truck rocks from side to side as we drive over the pot hole riddled dirt entrance. Rising before us are the skeletons of several multi story houses to be. There are supposed to be a total of 45 duplex's built on this large plot of land. The pines have been carved out, create a boarder around the what will ultimately become a small community of identical white clapboard sided, black shuttered homes. Right now, there are only 2 partially completed structures, another 6 are just studs and foundations. Yellow flags mark where future foundations are to be dug and poured but for now, we keep busy with the few that are ultimately going to become the show houses for the complex.

The pick-up pulls up along side a large stack of 2 X 4's. This is going to be my job for the day, I'll be buggy lugging them, creating stacks in front of each of the partially framed structures. Dad reaches over, rubs his rough right paw through my short cropped hair. 

"Don't kill yourself today kiddo, I'm going to need your back this weekend at the house. Mr. Townsend has agreed to come and stay over on Saturday so we can dig a new well for the house, hopefully find some clean water once and for all."

I turn toward him, my smile could not have been broader, I really can't stand that rusty, smelly water that we have coming out of the pipes right now. Even the filtration system is sorta ineffective to the rusty water. It would be fantastic to walk out of a shower and not feel as if your skin has a rough film on it. The bottled water that we get from Poland Springs is great but I'm sure that it's costing dad an arm and a leg money he just doesn't have right now.

Dad has done with the barest of essentials for himself. He's even given up his weekend beer to try and save money. Our morning donuts and coffee are just about the only splurge that he allows for himself. Me on the other hand, he makes sure that I have ice time and the hockey gear that I need. He also makes sure that my sister has everything she needs back in Rhode Island. Mom is holding up her end really well, she got a big raise with her new position at the hospital.

Summer heat is in full blast, humid, hot, not a great combination for having to lug lumber around in. I notice a beautiful brand new Ram 3500 pull up near the first building where dad is completing some finishing touches on the trim and crown molding. I recognize Mr. Trattorella, dad's previous boss from Rhode Island getting out and walking over to the trailer office that Mr. Townsend uses and lives while on site. He is not about to leave this place alone at night, so he figures he will play contractor and security guard, save money in the long run.

The trailer really is nice, it has a full kitchen, living room area with granite counter tops, real wood cabinets and a full shower in the bathroom. At the rear of the trailer, there is Mr. Townsend's bedroom. He has a king sized bed in there and a flat screen T.V. There is a large air conditioning unit and generator on the roof water hook up makes it a real home away from home. On more than one occasion, Mr. Townsend said that the trailer is actually more comfortable, easier to take care of than his house. He's divorced from his 3rd wife and lives alone in a large contemporary on the side of one of the hills in New Hampshire. He showed us pictures of it on his laptop, it's huge but must be pretty lonely up there in the hinterlands all by himself.

I continue to lug the 2 X 4's to their respective buildings. They are pr-cut in length. have numbers painted on them to show where they go and in what order. The buildings are partially pr-fabbed but still require skilled construction, someone like my dad to finalize the detail work that makes this complex higher quality and ultimately a more desirable place for young families to live in.

Mr. Townsend and Mr Trattorella walk over to his truck. I see that my dad's pick up is being pulled up directly behind the new Ram 3500. Two of the younger site workers are unloading boxes and furniture from Mr. Trattorella's truck and loading it all into our older pick up.

Dad's truck is finally loaded to the gills, Mr. Trattorella is back in his truck and pulling out of the site's driveway. I look down at my watch, see that it is just past noon. I'm sure dad is already getting out his lunch from the small cooler chest, waiting for me to join him. I arrive, sure enough, two sandwiches, two bottles of cold water and an two oranges are laid out on a makeshift table. Two saw horses with a remnant of particle board make due. Two overturned buckets that once contained large amounts of spackling powder serve as stools. Nothing goes to waist on the site, I am more than happy just to relax out of the sun and excessive heat. A tall fan on a 5' stand blows air toward us.

I sit down on my bucket, see our boss, Mr. Townsend come into the room with a bag in hand, a bucket of his own in the other. He places it upside down, sits at the opposite end of the homemade table from dad. I'm sitting in between them, feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. Mr. Townsend has never come and shared lunch with us in the 3 weeks that we have been working for him. I pray that I have not done anything to embarrass dad, or worse get us both fired! Waits for either dad or Mr. Townsend to make the first move. I don't dare touch my food without them digging in first.

Mr. Townsend is a very impressive, foreboding figure. He stands a very solid 6'6", has shiny, tight dark brown skin over very defined muscles. A goatee is the only hair that one see's on him, even with his shirt off, which he is often found to be when working. He is pretty shredded, muscular form has not disappeared from his days as a pro athlete. It's obvious he takes great care in his appearance. His smoothly shaved bald head is perfectly groomed. Fingernails clipped close and clean, something that is a wonder for someone in the construction business. It is not due to the lack of working with his hands, he is as hands on as any of his employees. It is apparent that he just takes grooming seriously.

"R.J." 

Mr. Townsend breaks the silence with the nick name for my dad.

"I've had all of your things from Rhode Island put into your truck, everything is packed in like sardines in a can. Even the front cab is pretty much filled to the top. Just enough room for you to sit, I doubt there is going to be enough room in there for you to breath in too deeply."

A laugh comes from Mr. Townsend, it is deep, very hearty. Dad shakes his head in an up and down motion in acknowledgement.

"Look, R.J., since I am supposed to come and get a new well excavated for your house this weekend, I am going to make you an offer, that is if Robbie here is O.K. with it, you too of course."

Dad looks over at me with a puzzled look on his face, turns back toward our boss. 

"Whatcha got in mind Lee? If the truck is that full maybe I should have Robbie drive it back, I can camp out here in this show house, it's almost done and I can make due for the night. I don't need much more than my toothbrush in the morning, that and make sure the truck comes back in one piece."

My mouth drops open wide, I can't believe he just said that! One piece, I'm a great driver, why would he say that? I feels a bit of reddening to the tips of my ears and the rounds of my cheeks.

"No, that's not necessary R.J., tell me what you think about this; since I',m going to stay in your spare room Saturday night and today is Friday, why don't you drive the truck back, Robbie can catch a ride with me on my Harley. I can bring him home this afternoon, you can lock things up at closing time, make sure that everything is buttoned down for the night. I would then stay with you guys for the weekend, I'll even take you both for dinner after we unload the truck tonight, that is if it is O.K. with the two of you."

Dad smiles. turns to me. 

"Is this something that you can deal with Robbie? I know you were planning on skating later this afternoon but if you think you can see your way on this one time, I'd really appreciate it."

Appreciate it? Heck, I owe him big time, dad has been doing and doing, this is the first thing he has asked of me since he and mom split. Shit, I'd even get to ride on that huge Harley. It's a fantastic machine, I have stared at it on more than one occasion just imagining what it would feel like to ride that monster with a motor.

"Hell yeah, oops, sorry, I did not mean to swear, I mean absolutely fine with me dad, Mr. Townsend."

Dad and Mr. Townsend laugh at my gaff and slip of the tongue.

"It's all-right Robbie, working with these guys here, I have heard worse, said much worse myself too."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I settle into my lunch, scarf down my sandwich, drink all of the water before it gets warm. The fruit is gone in a blink of an eye. Mr. Townsend looks at me, wipes his mouth with his paper napkin. 

"Robbie, this is what I am going to suggest, I'm going to have one or two of the workers stay in my trailer over the weekend, you and I will head to your house in about an hour or so, your Dad can drive back after closing up at 5pm. This way, the three of us can unload all of your stuff, put your bedroom sets back together, put away what else is left over. Then we can go get a good dinner at the steak house. Your dad is going to have to work for me in the morning, this way, you and I can excavate all day if need be. then by Sunday, we can make sure that everything is working well, if not, we have another day to give it another shot before Monday comes. We have the roofers coming in Monday. both your dad and I have to be here. I was hoping that you would be able to work at least a half day too, is this do-able?"

"Yeah, sounds great to me. I have to tell you, I've always wanted to ride that Harley of yours, I actually get a chance to now. I would have paid you to let me ride it and here I get to ride it and get a steak dinner out too. I'd have to be out of my mind to say anything other than yes."

Dad stands, picks up the napkins and remnants of our lunch, places them into a trash bag sitting in the corner of the room. 

"Let's get back to work Robbie, I'll come and get you when it is time for you to go with Mr. Townsend.. And Robbie, thank you, I really do appreciate this."

It was the quickest hour of my life. I had become invigorated, must have moved a good 25 percent more lumber than I normally would have. Excitement builds, I can barely contain myself. Dad taps me on the shoulder, puts his arm around me, gives me a tight hug. 

"You be safe, hear me? I want you to wear the helmet that Mr. Townsend loans you. You do as he says, if there is any problem or if you need anything, just call me on your cell. I will be back as soon as I can but I am going to have to take it a bit slower than normal. I saw that the truck is really loaded down, I don't want anything shifting and getting damaged. Just do as you are told, I know you will be fine though, you're a great guy, you know that Robbie? I am very proud of you, now get going.. I'll see you when I see you."

Dad turns, walks back to the show house and disappears into the front entrance. I walk over to Mr. Townsend's trailer, finds he is already waiting for me. A black shiny helmet in one hand, a small ruck sack in his other.

"First, put this on Robbie, no one rides with me without a helmet. Can you put my ruck on since you are going to be behind me, there won't be room for you, me and the back-pack between us? The saddles are filled with the tools we are going to be needing, I don't have any other room for my change of cloths and personals."

I take the ruck-sack from Mr. Townsend's outstretched hand and place the helmet on. I'm very familiar with wearing a helmet, having played hockey my entire life. I had no intention of putting up a fuss but I figure that most people balk at having to wear one if they are not used to them.

"By the way, call me Lee when we are not here on the job.."

I look at Mr. Townsend and smile. 

"O.K. Lee."

"Watch it, we have not left the site yet!"

A scowl crosses his face. 

"Just kidding."

Lee throws one of his long muscular legs over the tufted leather two tier seat on the Harley. Motions for me to do the same, points to the slightly raised seat behind his big haunches. I climb on, Lee presses a small button, the Harley comes to life. The vibration between my legs is a completely new and exciting sensation. I mean this feels like power, real power. Like straddling a rocket, ready to blast off, head off into outer-space.

A small twist of his wrist, the engine roars, the deep throaty growl of the Harley lets us know that it is ready to be ridden. Lee reaches back, takes hold of my hand, pulls it around his waist. I feel the leather of his way too cool Harley labeled jacket under my fingertips. He turns his head, I barely hear him yelling for me to hold on with both of my arms around him, this is gonna be a ride that I will never forget.

I am wrap both of my long arms around his muscular torso, barely able touch my fingers to each other. He pats my hands, nods to me, kicks the stand up, a few more revs of the beast. I feel the earth moving underneath us, freedom, the rush of wind against my body. My hands feel the whoosh of air that comes across the front of the bike, forcing my hands against Lee's stomach, holds on for dear life. I'm desperately scared shit-less. I mean scared like I have never been scared before. 

Lee looks over his should, gives me a quick nod. I really wish he would not do that while we are moving at this speed. I don't want him to miss something coming our way. If we loose control, there is nothing between us and death other than asphalt. I lower my head forward, places the face mask of my helmet against the winged Harley emblem stitched into Lee's leather jacket. I begin to relax but still hold on as if my life depends on it.

We speed off, the air seems to become cool, almost cold. It is such a rush, how can it be so hot out yet feel so cool at the same time.

"SPLAT!" 

Something splatters on the right side of my face shield, realizes that it is was a bug. I never thought about the face mask and helmet are now the windshield. 

"SPLAT!" 

Another one bites the dust.

We cross the bridge in Bellows Falls, looks around at the surrounding buildings. I've never noticed them in the way they appear from the Harley. I feel the power of the engine rumble beneath and between my legs, I get a feeling of arousal in my crotch. Acutely aware of where my hands are, they slip down the front of Mr. Townsend as he has leans forward and accelerates. I lean forward into him, feel that my hands are on the front of his faded jeans. The hardness under my hands is what I think it is, I am sure of it, I nearly panic, decides that if I try to move, I am going to have to release them due to the angle that Lee is leaning into the wind.

My damned penis begins to get stiff. SHIT! NOT NOW, NOT NOW, PLEASE, NOT NOW! I scream inside my own head. Making matters worse, Lee is arching forward at a greater angle, I have to lean into his back even harder. His massive glutes are turned slightly up, forcing them back into my crotch. There is just no way that he doesn't notice that he has a boner pushing against his butt. What else could it be? 

I try to think of something, anything to tell him once we get to the house, just in case he says something about it. He might be so pissed off that he might thump me right in the face with one of those sledge hammer sized hands of his. My hands are holding firm, tight to a giant monster, not the Harley but a dick the size of a grown man's forearm. His jeans just had to be as tight as Tupperware, didn't they? Now what?

The Harley rounds the corner, heads up the open road and the hill that leads to where our driveway leads to what was the vacation house, now home. The gravel drive causes the bike to become a little jerky as we come to a rocky stop, right in front of the first door of the two garage.




The Vacation House Ch. 07



Lee, presses another button, turns a key, the engine dies down to a low growl, then stops all together. The bike is slightly tipped to one side, the stand is kicked down into place. Lee's legs spread wide, straddle the Harley. They are long and stretch a long way from the bikes frame. He reaches up, removes his helmet, tosses his head back and looks over his shoulder. smiles at me..

"Well, you survived, huh? So, howdja like it?"

I pull the helmet off, look at him like a scared rabbit.

"Yeah, I know what you mean, thought I was going to die a million deaths the first time I piggy backed on a bike too. Loved it though dintcha?"

"Hell yeah, I can't wait to go again. First I have to figure out where I left my stomach though."

Lee laughs that deep throaty laugh of his. I had not noticed before but his laugh sounds so much like the throatiness of his Harley's muffler.

"By the way, don't worry bout the wood, happens to everyone, yeah know. Heck, my ex-wife said she got off more times on the Harley than she ever did on me, effin bitch!"

I nervously laugh, I'm so relieved that no matter what happened, that Lee knew that it was not my fault, it was the bikes fault. I just hope that he does not mention or maybe did not realize that I was holding onto his dick for most of the trip back. Even if he did, I can just use the excuse that I was holding on for dear life, that it was not my fault that he was so big that it stuck up so far... Shit, I had better not even think of saying anything like that. I would be in for a fat lip or a kick in the nuts if I do, better just to keep that our little secret, me and my dirty mind.



The Vacation House Ch. 08



My stomach is so full, the happiest I've been since a month ago when dad dropped the bombshell about he and mom getting a divorce and our moving up to the vacation house.

Lee's true to his word, dad arrives home from the job site, we unload the pick-up, get everything assembled, in place in no time. The steak house Lee has brought us to may not be the fanciest place in the world but you sure can't beat a great steak and baked potato. Dad pushes his chair back, tilts it onto the two back legs, stretches his legs out under the table. Lee wipes his mouth with his napkin, folds it, places it along side his plate. A smile crosses his face as he pulls out his wallet, places a credit card on the table.

"No Lee, this is on us, you are our guest, after-all, if you had not offered to come and dig a new well for us, Robbie and I would still be unloading all that stuff from my truck. How we accumulated so much junk is mind boggling. What's so funny is that we still need a few more items."

Lee raises his hand in a stop motion. 

"Nope, I said I was taking you guys for dinner, this is my treat. Don't worry, I can turn it in as a business expense anyway. It's not like you two couldn't afford to save a few bucks, get the rest of the things you need instead. Really RJ, it is fine, I can afford it. If we get the well going in time I will show you both a turn over shop in the Brattleboro area that has tons of good second hand merchandise. I noticed that you guys could use some pots and pans. I know that a diner shut down recently, they're trying to sell all of their items there, trying to head off a bankruptcy. Hell, what goes around, comes around, we put a little of our money back into the community and we all get to keep our jobs. Trust me, it will all come back around again someday.

"Thanks Lee, Robbie, I believe that a thank you would be in order, don't you Robbie?" 

Dad nods, I immediately respond in kind.

"Thank you Lee. I really appreciate your help, this great steak too. I guess that I am half the cook my mom is. Some of the stuff I have tried to make has been so bad that I know dad is just being kind to me, forcing himself to eat it." 

I return the nod in dad's direction, he smiles broadly back at me, turns to Lee.

"No really, he is doing great, don't know where I'd be without him. I'm actually starting to get use to his cooking. The way I look at it, if you don't want to have to do it yourself, don't complain about how someone else does it for you."

Lee pats dad on the shoulder as the waitress takes the check and credit card, she returns in a very short time. The place may be good but it is small, not as busy as it might be when the ski tourists are in town. Lee signs the check, returns his credit card to his wallet, pushes away from the table. We rise, dad thanks the waitress, she returns the thank you with a big toothy grin. Lee must have left her a nice tip because she wishes us a great weekend, expresses her hopes that we return soon. We climb into the pick-up and are back on the road towards home. It's still a bit light out, dad pulls into the local package store.

"Need anything Lee? I'm gonna get myself a six pack and some trail mix. What ever you want for yourself, it's on me. Don't try any funny stuff like trying to bum rush me and paying for it before I do. I will just tell the cashier that your money is no good here. I know them, trust me, I can be pretty convincing."

"OK, have it your way RJ. vodka if you don't mind. Nothing special but if they have a Polish potato vodka, well that would be great. Don't need any mixers, just some ice to chill it down and I will be a happy camper. How bout you Robbie, want anything?"

I blush a bit sheepishly. 

"Nah, still only eighteen, I promised my mom that I wouldn't drink alcohol until I am legal age. It's nothing big, I like iced tea, it helps to keep my weight down too. It's not easy trying to get myself moving on the ice when I put a few pounds on, this is the best way I have to help my game."

"You're a good kid Robbie, I'm glad to hear that you are listening to your parents. I wish I had a dad and mom as caring in my life when I was young. I can tell you, I bet things would have turned out real different had they been there for me. Guess that's all in the past now but it sure might have been great though."

I feel a badly for Lee, not sure if I should say something, console him or congratulate him on turning out being the owner of his own business and all. I decide to say nothing, just leave it at what he said.

Dad is back, hands the package to me since I am sitting in the middle of the bench seat.

"Keep a good grip on that bag Robbie, those bottles are clinking against each other."

The engine starts, we head for home, pull into the gravel drive and park in front of the second door of our two car garage. Lee's bike is parked in front of the first door. One by one we hop out and go into the house. I put the bottles into the refrigerator, asks Lee if he wants me to make him his drink now.

"No thanks Robbie, I am going to turn in early, want to get up bright and early to get a head start on that well before the sun gets to high. Dad comes to me, places his big paw on my left shoulder. 

"Lee's right, we should all hit the sack early so we can get a jump on the weekend. I will go into town, get you guys some donuts and coffee before I head to the job site. I'll probably be gone before you get up so just be good, do as Lee asks you to do, I will be home as soon as I can."

I walk down the hall towards the master bedroom, followed by Lee. 

"Lee, you're gonna be staying in my room here, dad and I will share the master so you won't have to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag."

Lee knows where the rooms are already since he helped to set up my bedroom. I point out that the guest bathroom is at the end of the hall opposite the entrance to the master bedroom. The door between is what will be my sisters room but it's not set up at the moment. That's the room we put all the boxes of unpacked items into. It's the smallest of the bedrooms so it will work out great as her room when she comes to visit and we can set it up as an office for dad's drafting table. Just before Lee shuts the door of my bedroom he speaks to me quietly.

"Good night, I will see you early OK?"

"Yeah, see you when I see you." 

The door shuts followed by a click of the lock. I walk into the master bedroom, strips down, throws myself onto my side of the king size bed. I'm more tired than I had thought, it must be from having eaten so much and being wiped out from the excitement riding on the Harley. In a split second I'm out like a light, don't even hear when dad comes to bed. 

The alarm clock is ringing, I roll over onto dad's side of the bed, he's not here. I grab a pair of shorts from the chair in the corner of the room, pull them on before leaving the bedroom, heads to the kitchen. On the counter is a large thermos, I'm sure it's filled with hot coffee. A small paper bag contains several donuts and some paper napkins. I walk into the living room, look out the front picture window, see's that only the Harley is parked in the drive. Dad's already on his way to New Hampshire, another day of work for him.

Walks back down the hallway, I stop and knock on my bedroom door. I hear mumbling, then a loud thud. Lee either fell out of my bed which is small for his large size or he just knocked something over. Which ever it was, I decide to give him his privacy. I return to the kitchen, sets up the coffee mugs, napkins and donuts. The local newspaper is folded at the end of the table on the opposite end from where dad normally sits. I guess this is dad's way of telling me that Lee is to sit there. It's dad's castle after-all, no one sits in the kings throne. Lee stumbles into the kitchen.

"Good morning Lee." 

Looks at the dark skinned figure before me, his glistening brown tone, ripped muscular form. Lee's clad only in a pair of black skin tight Calvin Klein boxer briefs. His left arm raises high, his giant hand braces his full weight against the wall. A big yawn, I can almost see all the way down his throat. His brilliant white teeth look like white marble, pure white, it looks like he does not have a filling in any of them, if this guy looks this good first thing in the morning, no wonder he cleans up so well. He always looks like he has just walked off the cover of one of those Men's Health magazines.

"Morning." 

It's all Lee is able to get out before he yawns, stretches his limbs in all directions, muscles flex as he twists his torso to the right, then to the left. He bends all the way forward, his outstretch arms dangle toward the floor. His legs slightly spread, he places the palms of his hands onto the floor about a foot in front of his very large feet. Those feet are huge, he must wear a size seventeen or eighteen shoe or something like that. I have never seen feet so big in my life in person. I'm reminded of an ESPN program where they were showing the size of Shak O'Neils sneakers. OK, they're not that big but compared to my size twelve and a half, they look like giants feet. His toe nails are neatly clipped, as neatly manicured as his fingernails. This guy really knows how to present himself in his best light. I look down at my own fingernails, I have a bad habit of biting off when they get even a little long, they sure don't look like Lee's.

"How do you take your coffee Lee?" 

"Black, not going to put any sugar into this body. It takes too much to keep everything in working order without adding worry about my weight."

I nod, pours the steaming black coffee. Lee sits down, promptly pushes his donuts toward where I had placed my napkin.

"Thanks but no thanks, I will have a protein bar. I have a few of them on the night stand in the bedroom. Would you go get one for me Robbie? I would appreciate it. I do need to get some coffee in me if I am going to get this ole body up and running."

I almost run to my bedroom, see's the power bars on the nightstand. The pillow is on the floor as is the top sheet. Yep, I have a good suspicion Lee did fall out bed. I won't mention it, don't want to embarrass him. I head back to the kitchen, Lee is pouring himself a second cup of coffee.

"Here yeah go." 

I hand Lee his protein bar. 

"If you want, you can have my second cup too. I don't need to have more than the one cup to get me going in the morning. We don't have a good working pot here yet. Dad said we are going to look for one of those used Bunn coffee makers, you know the kind they have in the diners where you just pour the water into them and it comes out in a minute. I hope that if we get a chance to go to that turn over shop you were talking about last night, that they might have one of those, cheap."

"I'd bet if you are gonna find one anywhere, it is going to be there Robbie. I know when I picked up some stuff for the job site, I remember seeing a couple of those. They're large, stainless steel with two pots, one on a burner atop and one under the coffee filter. Is that what you are looking for?"

"That is exactly what dad is hoping to get. He does love his coffee, looks like you and he have something in common with how quickly you can down that stuff."

"You'll find out when you get older Robbie, you loose some of your sensitivity to hot and cold. You watch, you'll be downing it in a few years too." 

Lee picks up his mug, drains it dry.

"Mind if I take you up on that extra cup of yours?" 

Lee nods toward the thermos, I hand it to him. I finally take my first sip of my coffee, it's still hot, almost too hot to drink but I don't want it look like I can't handle a bit of hot coffee. I bite the bullet and drink it down. Proud of myself, I finish my doughnut, places the one that Lee does not want back into the bag.

"I am going to go get dressed, do you need anything before I get cleaned up?"

"No thanks Robbie, all of my stuff was in the rucksack that you hung onto for me. I just want to make sure where the bathroom is, it's at the end of the hall on the right?"

"End of the hall on the left,"

I walk down the hall, closes the master bedroom door behind myself, go about washing up.

Both of us put together, I meet up with Lee in the garage. He has a white tank top on, a pair of faded jeans with holes over the knees, worn areas around the crotch, the backside and where he must wipe his hands repeatedly down the seams. I have on a white T-shirt, a pair of old long board shorts and my most beat up pair of work boots. I'm prepared for the mess we are about to get ourselves into. I've used the auger and drills with dad a number of times, have always walked away looking like a pig that wallowed in a mud as a result.

It's brilliantly sunny, in no time the temp is in the upper eighties, the humidity is way too high. Soupy is the only way I can describe how the air feels, it's difficult to breath and there's not a hint of a breeze to be found.

Lee knows what he is doing when it comes to well digging. I handle the auger, he tells me where and how deep to go. I'm shocked dumb when in just our second attempt we hit clear, fresh water. It's a miracle, dad searched for years, never once came up with a good well, not once. Here, Lee hits the mother load in just our second try. I really don't care how he did it, I'm just thrilled to death that we did!

"Go get the pump from the garage Robbie, I'm going to take this baby down another fifty feet, see if it still runs clear. If it does, we can tap into the feed system that your dad put in way back when. Good thing he used good material cause it won't take much to flush the system out and get the house hooked up by mid afternoon."

I take off like a flash, runs at full speed toward the garage. I rummage around in the boxes containing all of the plumbing pipes, tools, finds the pump, the piping hook ups, clamps, hoses. The electrical supplies needs to be connected the underground wiring already in place. I rush back to Lee, he's soaked to the skin. His tank top clings to his body, his jeans covered in mud up to his waist. Yep, I had expected that would happen.

It took less than an hour for the entire pump system to be hooked up to the new well. The electrical lead is wired, I run back to the house, throw the breaker supplying the pump with power. Runs back to the well, hears the pump kick on as a gusher of water shoots high into the air like a geyser.

Lee's bent over the rushing water attempting to cap the flushing system. Water slowly gets lower and lower until it is no longer flowing from the flush valve, the cap is put into place. Lee's proud and rightly so, he reaches out his huge ham sized right hand, takes mine into his. He squeezes tightly, shakes a mighty pride filled hand-shake.

"Well young man, we sure got lucky, you and me. I am gonna bet your old man is going to be pretty damned proud of you when he gets back this evening, you did a great job, thank you."

Thank me? Why is Lee thanking me? After-all he found the water. He is doing this on his time and not charging us anything for his help. He worked himself to the bone yesterday helping us unpack and set up our household furnishings from RI. I'm the one who is thankful. Dad might be proud of me but he is sure going to owe Lee big time.

"C'mon Lee, lets get back in, get cleaned up, maybe I can even get the washer and dryer working. I will wash your dirty cloths after you have taken a shower, just leave them outside the bathroom on the floor. I don't want to tax the system this early, just in case it does not have enough pressure to run the washer and take a shower at the same time."

"You have a good head on those broad shoulders of your Robbie. I will tell you this, I have always appreciated your father's work ethic. I have to confess, that his apple has not fallen far from the tree."

I take the compliment with great humility, nods, does not say another word. Lee wraps his arm around my shoulder, we walk our dirty selves back to the house, proud as a couple of peacocks. Lee heads into the guest bathroom. I hear the rush of water as it pours out of the large pan shower head. It runs and runs, then the house goes silent. Now I hear the glass and chrome shower door open. 

"Robbie! ROBBIE?"

I hurry down the hallway to the guest bathroom having coming in from out in the garage. I was putting the tools and supplies away.

Standing on the fluffy white floor mat is Lee, stark naked. Glistening and dripping wet, his hands firmly placed upon his hips. My eyes are drawn down to the huge hanging balls and monstrous flaccid penis, it's darker than the rest of his smooth chocolate colored skin, uncut, huge and thick.

"Robbie?" 

My eyes snap up, locks onto Lee's smiling eyes.

"A towel please? Foolish of me not to have checked before I jumped into the shower. Excuse me for taking you away from your work, I don't know where you guys keep them, don't want to track water all over the new wood floors, I know how much those things cost."

"I'm sorry Lee, that's my fault, dad asked me to make sure that everything was set up for your stay this weekend but it just went out of my head. I forgot about the towels cause I was thinking I had until today for you to show up. Damn, please don't tell him about me not listening, not doing it when he asked me to, please?"

"No problem here Robbie, it's just us guys, it's just a towel. Your dad doesn't need to know about this, you have nothing to worry about. Think of it this way, you gave me your second cup of coffee this morning, well, this is how things go round, you take care of someone, someone else will someday take care of you. Now, how about that towel?"

I turn on my heals, heads into the spare bedroom, there is a box marked linens, tears open the taped top of the cardboard box, removes several sets of Terrie cloth towels. I rush back to the guest bathroom where Lee is still standing, dripping water onto the floor mat. I hold out the large bath towel, places the remaining washcloth and hand towels on the rack along side the vanity. Lee begins to towel off, starts with his short cropped hair. His huge penis and balls swing madly from side to side. I feel stirring in my dick, heads toward the door as fast as my feet will take me. Reaches for the door nob, hears Lee clearing his throat. 

"Would you please leave the door open? It will steam up the mirror in here if you shut it. I need a shave and have to do some manscaping. Thanks for the towels, by the way the water pressure is great. I don't think you are going to have to worry about running the washer and taking a shower at the same time but don't rush on my account to put those dirty work cloths in, I have a couple of changes. I was thinking maybe we could take the bike, get some lobsters at the market before your dad comes home, kinda celebrate and all?"

LOBSTER? I love lobster but we don't get them very often. Even being from Rhode Island, they are kinda expensive because of the demand for them at the local restaurants, they are much cheaper up here though. Locals come in with them from the colder waters off the coast not too far from here. Yeah, Lobster, fresh running water, I'm ready to celebrate.

"No problem Lee, is there anything else you can think of that you need before I jump into the shower?"

"Can't think of anything at the moment but if I do, I am sure it can wait until you're finished cleaning yourself up."

I walk the few feet away, heads into the master bedroom, strips off my dirty work cloths. Picks up the small pile of dad's dirty work cloths, underwear and sheets that have accumulated over the past week. I walk out of the master, picks up Lee's dirty pile of cloths he has left just outside the guest bathroom door.

"Thanks!" 

I hear Lee call to me as I bend over to pick up his dirty laundry. I become aware that I have just mooned him. Shit, that was a damned stupid thing to do. I stand up quickly, heads toward the basement. All the while I feel my dangling dick start to swell. I do hope that he did not see that happening, I would be so embarrassed, how could I explain it happening again? It's not like when we rode in on the Harley and I got wood. Please, please, please, I pray he did not notice.




The Vacation House Ch. 08



I rush down the basement stairs, turns the water valve to the on position, turns the valve handle for the gas to the dryer. I place all the dark cloths into the washer, pours in a cup of liquid soap and a fabric softener tablet. Turns the nob, on comes the Maytag washer, it has sat dormant since the day it arrived. I grab a towel from the table alongside the tub sink, attempts to tie it around my waist. I must be kidding myself if I think this towel is going to hide the obvious. I decide to make a run for it, maybe I can get to the master bedroom without Lee seeing me. After-all, he will be busy shaving, he has no care for a naked kid anyway.

I make it to the bedroom without incident, sure that I was not spotted. Jumps into the shower, the feeling of super clean water cascading over me is just about the best feeling I have had in a very long time. I take my time cleaning up, shave in the shower as I always do but this time I am not left with the rough feeling on my skin from iron tainted water. I toss my head back, open my mouth wide, lets the water fill up until I have enough to gargle and spit out. The simple things in life are sometimes the most wonderful.

I shut off the chrome handle, the water stops running. I step out, grabs the fluffy white Terrie cloth towel on the right, my towel. Dad always uses the towel on the left, I the one on the right. I like the little habits we have developed living together. I really love sleeping along side him even if we do not do anything sexually, it is just so nice to have him there. To wake sometimes with my head on his shoulder or his arm wrapped around me. Sometimes his fingertips accidentally brush the end of my penis but I know that he is doing it in his sleep, not for pleasuring either one of us. It is nice though, I am getting so turned on just thinking about how excited he is going to be when he comes home tonight, finds that we have a working well.

"Robbie? Can you come here for a second?" 

Lee's voice snaps me out of my daydream. I wrap the large towel around myself, heads to find out what he is calling for. Not thinking about the bulge that I am displaying, I walk to the open guest bath. Lee is still naked, now sitting on the closed toilet seat. One of his feet raised up on the edge of the seat, a large clipper in his hand. I instinctively look down toward his crotch. It is all piled up in a puddle of flesh on the toilet seat cover between his wide spread legs.

"Robbie, will you please get me a band-aide? I clipped a little close to the nail, I just nicked myself. I don't want to get blood on anything, would you mind getting me one? I have some in the little black leather kit at the foot of the bed in your bedroom. Thanks, I'm sorry to bother you again."

I turn, go to the bedroom that Lee is using while staying with us. I bend, pick up the small leather kit that he has placed along with some very nicely folded slacks and shirts. I open up the kit, quickly see the small familiar box of Band Aide brand bandages. I also notice a few personal items that I am a little surprised to see. Condoms, Hugo Boss cologne, lubricant, spare electric toothbrush, Nivea for men face cream, and something long wrapped in a dark blue velvet pull string bag. I take out a bandage, quickly replaces the kit atop the cloths on the chair.

I walk back into the bathroom, Lee is waiting for my return. I stretch out my arm, not wishing to get too close for I had remembered that I was still showing a bit more of myself than I should. Lee takes the bandage and thanks me. I get back to finishing up with my grooming, spreads a little dab of hair gel into my palm, runs my fingers through my short cropped hair. It stands, I pull the very ends by my forehead so that it spikes up, gives myself the jar head look.

I pull on a clean pair of boxer briefs, a pair of blue and white check pattern cotton shorts. A pink short sleeve rugby shirt and a pair of well worn leather sandals. Finally dressed, I head to the kitchen, sits down at the table, reaches, grabs the newspaper and spreads it out before me. I open it up to the sports section, begins to go over some of my favorite teams scores.

We are both cleaned up and dressed now, as promised Lee grabs his keys and we are out the door and on the Harley. The powerful beast comes to life with the twist of his wrist, I wrap my arms around Lee's waist. He does not have his leather jacket on this time, just a cotton shirt and khaki shorts with his black bike boots. I lean forward into his back, places the mask of my helmet very close to his shoulder. This time I want to see everything coming, I don't want to miss out on seeing anything. I can get use to this.

The familiar tingling in my groin occurs from the vibration and rumbling beneath my balls and butt. I feel the familiar stiffening of the mass located at Lee's waistband. I'm reminded of what he said when we first arrived home on the bike, it's normal and happens all the time. So, it's normal Robbie, I tell myself, just go with it.

We get the lobsters, some corn and a few other things at the local market. Lee places them in the hard plastic saddle bags on the rear of the Harley. We hop back on and are zooming down the road again toward home. Toward a celebration, toward that surprise dad so much deserves. We arrive, dad is not here yet. I hurry inside with the bag of live lobsters, place them into the refrigerator. I put the only large pot we have into the kitchen sink, fills it half way with water. I place the pot onto the stove, turns the knob, hears the click, click, click of the starter. I place the lid on the pot and begin to husk the sweat summer corn, sugar and butter, my favorite kind dad's too. I continue to prepare dinner, I hear the familiar sound of tires on the gravel drive.

Dad comes in the front door, looks exhausted and sweaty. He walks into the kitchen, wraps his arm around my shoulder and looks down at the food I am preparing.

"What have we got here kiddo? Corn and salad? What gives? How come you are all clean and fresh smelling? Didn't the two of you work on the well today?"

A look of concern crosses dad's sun kissed face. I walk over to the large pot on the stove, lifts off the lid. 

"See, tell me what you think about what we're having for dinner."

Dad takes the few steps, looks down into the open pot, looks back at me with a puzzled look, cocks his head to the side, furrows his brow. I can tell that he is so tired that he is not catching on to the hint as quickly as I thought he would. 

"What do you see in the pot dad?"

He tips his head to the other side, his lips part slightly.

"What? What am I missing here? OK, it's a pot of,," 

He pauses, it occurs to him and his eyes open wide. Dad throws his arms around me, pulls me into a tight bear hug. 

"You have to be kidding me, you two hit clean water already? And, and you hooked up the system to boot? I, I, I'm speechless." 

A little tear trickles from the corner of dad's eye. He kisses me on the forehead, releases me and turns around.

"Where is Lee? I know he is still here, his bike is in the drive."

"He is in the bedroom on his laptop dad, he is just so cool, he found clean water on the second try!"

"Damn, that man is one hell of a friend. All these years we searched and he has the gift to find it that darned quick." 

Dad snaps his fingers to emphasize his point.

"Tell you what kiddo, I'm going to get myself cleaned up and change, I'll be out in a little while. You need anything, any help before I go in?"

Dad places the toe of one of his work boot against the heel of the other, kicks first one then the other off. He bends forward while lifting one foot, pulls off his socks and then I hear the unbuckling of his leather belt. I look at Dad, a little devilish smile crosses my face.

"Don't get any idea's you. We keep this quiet, just between the two of us." 

He continues to strip down, in no time he's standing naked before me, his dirty cloths tossed into a pile by the basement door.

"Would you mind taking these down and putting them in the washer for me? I'm just guessing but something tells me that you have a little surprise waiting for me down there too."

"Can't get too much over on you, can I dad?" 

I bend down, pick up the pile of sweaty cloths. 

"Yeah, well I already did a load of wash for myself and Lee, did your cloths too. They are in the dryer right now."

Dad reaches out, places his hand on my head, runs his fingers through my cropped hair. 

"Nice" 

He smiles as he saunters away from me. I stare at the big muscular hair covered butt cheeks and thighs disappearing into the master bedroom. I begin to get hard again, this is going to have to be taken care of sooner than later.

Opens the basement door, I am down and back up in a few minutes with a basket filled with dry clean cloths from the dryer. Walks into the master bedroom, dumps the clean laundry out onto the bed. I neatly fold everything, places them in the drawers of the tall chest on chest. I knock on the bathroom door.

"Come on in Robbie."

I walk into the steam filled bathroom. Dad's silhouette in the shower is just so tempting. Placing my hand on the handle, I open up the shower door. Standing there with a full hard on, dad has his hand soaped up to a lather. He runs his paw up and down the length of his shaft, his other hand pinches one of his nipples. I stand there staring, dad stops for a moment and leans forward. He gives me a gentle kiss on my forehead then turns his back to me. His face turns up toward the water pouring down.

"Shut the door on your way out will you Robbie, I'll be done is just a bit. By the way, thank you. I love you, you know that, right?"

My heart fills with joy, I'm almost overcome by the rush of emotions. I close the shower door, turn and walks out of the master bath, leaves dad to his moment of privacy. This is something I am learning is very rare, very important to him. He needs his space even if we are living together under the same roof and sleeping in the same bed every night. Walks as quietly as possible, I go back to preparing dinner, sets the places at the table. Hopes this turns out to be a surprise dinner, a night that dad will never forget.

I take the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator, pours myself a tall glass. Stands with the frig door open, I stare at the lobsters. The antennae and legs move very slowly. Yeah, you are going to be so good covered in butter. You don't know it yet but you sure are going to be good!

Closes the door, I settle down at the table in my familiar seat. I begin to drift into my own thoughts of what I have in store for dad tonight. The very thought of having Lee here in the house, not knowing what is going on in the room just across the hall makes me feel excited, a little dangerous, risky. I have to keep my self from getting too into this just yet, I don't want to let on to what I'm planning. 



The Vacation House Ch. 09



My fingers stick a little to the ice cubes. The clink into the glass follows the soft gurgling sound of the Vodka as it pours into the miss-matched tumblers. 

Looking down into the clear liquid, my mind wanders into a place of tingling anticipation, of pent up anxiety. 

My footsteps are slow, sure. I place one of the small alcohol filled tumblers on the end table closest to my Dad. Turning slightly to toward the chair occupied by our boss, Lee Townsend. The second glass is placed on a small folded paper towel that serves as a coaster. 

The furniture is brand new, not expensive by any stretch of the imagination but we wish to insure that it keeps that new look for as long as possible.

"Thanks Son, that really was a fantastic meal. To you and Lee," Dad raises his glass slightly above his shoulder height in a gesture of a job well done.

"Here, here!" concurs the handsome, well manicured Lee, his glass also raised.

"CLINK!" the glasses touch, just as I grab my bottle of Snapple and join in the celebratory toast.

A smile crosses Dad's face, both he and Lee nod at each other before placing the glasses to their lips and pulling a strong swig of chilled Vodka.

"AH! Now that hits the spot doesn't it Lee," Dad's wink at me is a little affirmation of our bond. One that has grown stronger over the past month. I can not believe how things have changed in such a short period of time. 

My life once seemed so planned out, so calculated, a bit boring, well it is anything other than boring now. 

I have new friends, the anticipation of a new University, a new job and even my passion, hockey seems to have taken on an interesting path. I have a best friend who has my back. He and his girlfriend are not judgmental nor do they pry into my personal life. Neither of them are forcing me to have to endure lurid tales of sexual conquests or past relationship failures. They are just real folk, friends without pretense or expectations. I really feel comfortable not having to make up stories of mysterious girlfriends unknown. It just does not come up, I don't feel compelled to bring it up. It's all going pretty well, so why mess with it. Life could not be better right now, or could it?

I settle down on a large round overstuffed cushion. Pulling my knees up to my chest, legs slightly spread apart. I rest my chin on the rock hard muscles of my quads.

My iced tea is drained fairly quickly, placing the empty bottle on my folded paper towel. The new hardwood flooring shines and sparkles with the reflection of the lamp on the table between Dad's and Lee's chairs.

I listen to the banter between the two men as they swap tales of disastrous attempts at finding suitable Wells in this heavily granite and iron laden area of New England.

It seems as if the two of them are going on and on and on about everything and nothing. My mind wandering in and out of attention. Other things are on my mind, things that I dare not say out loud to anyone, let alone in front of them. 

I value the opportunity to work that Lee has afforded Dad and myself. He also is becoming a friend to Dad. I take great pleasure in the satisfaction that the man that I so look up to, respect is appearing to be, well sorta, happy again. 

I have not really felt that Dad was all that happy or comfortable without Mom and my sister in his daily life. I worry about him a lot, often late at night, just listening to him gently snoring. Dreaming up all sorts of scenario's where I fill his needs in the way Mom had done for him during their decades together. 

I wish for the time that Dad would be as comfortable with every aspect of his life and love as he had been with Mom. Yeah, I know I am off in La-La land again but heck, I can dream can't I?

"Robbie, ROBBIE?" Dad's voice splits through the voice in my head. 

Snapping my head up off my knees, "Oh, sorry, did you say something Dad?"

"Were did you go there kiddo? Lee was just asking you if you would get him another 3 fingers of Vodka, a few more ice cubes too. Be a good boy and get us both a little more, wouldja?"

Getting up, I walk toward the two empty glasses sitting on the small white painted table. The ice had long since either melted or had been chewed up. I gather up the blue, then the clear tumbler. "Sorry bout that, I'll be right back."

Part of the kitchen is flooded by a sliver of light as I open up the freezer door to retrieve another handful of ice cubes. The unscrewing of the metal cap on the Vesicca Vodka bottle and then the gurgle of alcohol being poured over ice. A little Vodka splashes onto my left hand as it hits the cubes. I screw the cap back on, instinctively lick the back of my hand. The sweet flavor of the Potato Vodka tingles the end of my tongue. 

"Hmmmmm"

"Here you go Dad, Lee." handing the men their glasses. "I'll be back in a moment, have to go to the bathroom." 

Walking down the darkened hallway toward the guest bathroom, I pause for a moment. I flick on the wall switch and the room comes into focus. I close the door behind myself and proceed to undress, take care of natures calling.

Just as I enter the living room again, still wiping my damp washed hands on the sides of my T-shirt, I see Dad smile at me, nod toward the two empty glasses on the table. 

Lee has his long legs crossed at the ankles, he has slid slightly forward in his chair. It is hard for me not to notice the large bulge in his jeans, it mounds up in front of him. Relaxed and completely at home, he smiles at me. "Please?" he points his long right index finger toward his once again empty tumbler.

Dad chimes in, "Oh yeah, sorry bout that Robbie, Please, the two of us? This is the last one, I promise." 

Dutifully taking the tumblers, I turn and go back into the kitchen to refresh the drinks. This time I pour a little Vodka into Dad's glass and take a swig. It burns a little, strong, wince just a little and then swallow. I pour a little more and drink it. 

"OK, that's it, I am not going to have any more. I have other plans and I don't think that getting drunk for the first time in my life is going to do anything to help me keep my plan on track."

The glasses are placed along side their respective drinker. "Thank you Robbie, you really have raised him to be a respectable, handsome young man there R.J." 

Lee takes his glass, raises it towards Dad. Dad grabs his glass and quickly clinks it against Lee's. They nod at each other, then smile at me. 

Proud, that is what I am, blushing, a little embarrassed but very proud. It's a wonderful feeling to be recognized by two very handsome and well, handsome men. I really like this feeling, like I am grown up, one of them. I'm a little emboldened, determined to do what I have been keeping under wraps all evening long.

"I am going to go to bed if you two don't mind. Is there anything else you guys need before I head off? It has been one heck of a day. I sure hope I can handle this kind of hard work when I get older the way you two have." 

I wish I had not said what I had the second that it left my mouth. Had I just insulted them? Did I just say they were OLD? Heck, I hope they don't take it that way. 

"No, you go to bed Robbie, you have had a rough day and earned a good nights rest." Dad reaches forward and pats the side of my arm with his big paw. 

Lee sits up a little, leans forward, gives me a light smack on the side of my butt. "You go get some shut eye, we'll see you in the morning, good night Robbie." 

Lee lets his torso lay back into a reclining position, raises his glass to his full lips and takes a long pull of Vodka.

Walking down the hallway, I turn this time to the right hand door at the end. It's the master bedroom, the brilliant moonlight streaking into the otherwise pitch black room. A swath of light illuminates the king sized bed then runs up the wall. 

I enter the master bathroom and prepare myself for bed. Brushed teeth, washed face, cloths tossed into a small pile in the corner of the bedroom. I pull back the corner of the top sheet, slide between the clean bed linens. I lay my head down on the feather pillow. Facing my side of the bed, I stare at the strip of light that travels up the wall. I drift off into nothingness, not even realizing it is happening. My mind, once so full and scheming, now muddied and floating into the moonlight. 

I awake somewhat unaware of my surroundings. My eyes are unfocussed for a moment, then I get my bearings. The soft and rhythmic snores are soothing to me. I turn my head and look over my shoulder. There is Dad laying on his back, large, dark and beautiful. My heart begins to beat quickly, I try to breath as quietly as I can as not to awake him. He has kicked the top sheet off of himself, he lay next to me naked, bathed in the moonlight filtering into the bedroom from the open windows.

Crickets chirp in unison outside the screened windows. It punctuates each of Dad's exhales. 

Slowly turning my entire body, I lay on my left side, facing the most desirable figure of a man I have ever seen. Dark hair runs from his broad shoulders all the way down his burly chest. A path runs over his taught, rippled stomach then ends in a bush around his huge penis. His legs are spread apart, his large ball sack disappears between them, out of sight. From experience, I know that they are hanging so low that they are on the sheet covered mattress, cradled by Dad's muscular ass cheeks. 

I can not help it, my eyes fixate on his flaccid yet formidable penis. It lay curved sideways, the pee slit peeking out of the end of foreskin. It points directly toward me as if an eye staring at me from under a thick blanket. It is just as fixated on staring at me as I am fixated staring at it. 

My left elbow props my torso up, I shift into a more comfortable position. My right hand reaches ever so slowly toward the object of my hearts desire. My fingers gently wrap around the the width of Dad's shaft as they begin a very slow, deliberate back and forth motion.

The cadence of Dad's snoring does not skip a beat. It is constant and assures me that he is still asleep. 

I move my right hand up and down Dad's penis, it begins to swell. The foreskin moves back and forth over the large mushroom shaped head of his penis, the width, length begin to double in size. 

There is increasing pressure against my fingertips and the palm of my sweaty hand. The monster in my grasp grows to Dad's full manhood size, my fingertips, further and further separated from each other. 

Dad's penis is as hard as the granite ledge that our house is built upon. It stands at full erection, so hard that it no longer lays on its side. It rises in the moonlight, a thick missile on a launch pad, awaiting the count down to a fiery blast off!

Sitting up, I continue to stroke the hardened flesh, constant up and down motion. I Bend forward, take the tip of the huge penis, place it on my tongue. My lips parted as wide as they will go, I breath in deeply. 

I hold my breath for a moment, then feel the extreme size stretching my mouth. I forcefully push the entire shaft in. The head of Dad's penis hits the back of my throat, I gag. 

I refuse to allow a little gag reflex to stop me now. I force the head of Dad's dick further down my throat. I stop and relax for a moment, breathing out of my nostrils. Allowing the next few inches of his penis to continue it's journey down my throat. I am sure that it is to reach my stomach at any moment. I feel the course bush of black curly pubic hair rub my chin, nose and the corners of my mouth. 

Dad's massive dick is buried as far down my throat as it would go. I stopped moving and listened. I hear Dad's snores but the pace has quickened, a bit more insistent in its exhale, deeper on the inhale. The crickets outside still chirping on. Oblivious to the anxiety that fills my head and the huge penis that fills my gullet. 

Slowly, I retract from the huge penis, the very tip of foreskin pulls tightly over the head of Dad's penis, being flicked by the end of my tongue. I let my spit build up in my mouth, run down my tongue. It cascades over the angry mushroom head, down the shaft, until it disappeared into the dark bush of pubic hairs. 

Forcing the shaft into my throat then removing it to the very end, time and time again. I feel my own hard penis in my left hand, stroking it, squeezing it as hard as I can. 

The pre-cum that seeps from the large slit at the end of my dick lubricates my hand. I bang the side of my fist against my pelvis, withdraw it again, then tease my piss slit with the tip of my index finger. 

I become aware of the near silence. The only sounds are the slopping noises coming from my mouth on Dad's giant boner. The crickets are the only other sound I hear. The snores that put me at such ease, assured me of Dad's sleep had stopped. Panic fills me, my stomach tightens. I gag, withdraw the monstrous dick from my mouth, leaving it slick and shiny. 

I feel Dad's hand at the back of my short cropped hair. It is guides my head back toward his penis. I part my lips, allow him to force me down, down, down until I gag. He pushes harder on the back of my head, I feel my nose buried so deep into his groin that it is mashed. I can barely get any air at all into me, the swollen dick gagging me, not allowing any room for air to enter. I try unsuccessfully to pull my head back up from the hard lower stomach muscles being forced upward.

A struggle ensues, it lasts for what seems an eternity. I feel Dad's hand slide to the back of my neck and quickly pulls my head upward. The lubricated dick pulling out of my throat and popping out of my mouth with a very sloppy slurping sound. I gasp as warm air fills my lungs, I gasp again, panting wildly. 

Dad's huge paw moves to the back of my head, I am rammed downward until I feel as if he were trying to break his own pelvis with my face... I gag again, decide that I am going relax myself,give in to this violent assault. 

I realize that I have been pounding my dick so hard that I nearly rip the head off!

Dad's grip becomes more forceful, ramming his monstrous dick down my throat. His fingers nearly crushing the back of my skull. My mouth is moving so fast up and down his angry dick, I begin to notice the pulsing of his rock hard rod. A salty taste flavors the tip of my tongue every time he rips my head from the base of his penis. I hear his breathing become extremely labored, he gulps in air through his wide open mouth. 

I find my chance, I feel the pressure on the back of my head let up just a little bit. I pull my head up and off of Dad's throbbing dick.

"UGH," the sound escapes Dad as if it was being yanked out of him. I look at his face, his eyes squinting tightly shut.

His breathing begins to slow to a pant, his rock hard penis points straight at the ceiling. My mouth, sore as if I had taken a hockey puck to the face in a scrimmage gone bad, my throat ravaged.

My plan is set into motion, past the point of no return. Convincing myself that it is now or never, I make my move.

While Dad lay panting, his hands grip the fitted sheet on either side of his hips, pulled up from the bottom corners of the mattress. His hard on moves slightly back and forth, he's on the very brink of orgasm. I have no intention of allowing him to cum when he wants to. I'm going to make his first with me, one that he will never forget.

I quickly get to my knees, throw one of my muscled legs over him. I place each of my hands atop his sheet clutching paws, press down on them with my full weight. I straddle Dad's chest, my fully erect 7 1/2" penis touching the cleft in his sculpted chin. I feel the very ends of his beard stubble tickling the tender head of my dick. 

Dad takes this cue quickly, inhales my penis to my balls. I feel his teeth close lightly over my dick, slowly withdraws my rod to the very tip of the head, raking his teeth along the entire length. Teasing me to no end, then nibbling the tip with his front teeth. He swallows me in a sudden rush of face to crotch and repeats the taunting. He continues his brutal oral ravaging of my dick.

I move both of my hands, place them on either side of Dad's shoulders, bracing myself against his blow job. I feel one of his thick, calloused fingers against the crack of my ass, it moves forward and back, then forward again. The pressure of his finger increases, he slides it between my cheeks only to be met by a great surprise. 

Dad stops moving his head back and forth over my penis, the very end of it still kept in his mouth. Dad has discovered my little plan at last. He slides his finger up and down the crack of my well lubricated puckered hole. Traces the shape of the ring around the opening to my anus. 

I had planned this all evening long and as it turns out, the Vodka I drank in the kitchen had helped to solidify my determination that tonight was going to be THE NIGHT.

Dad's finger finally found the entrance to my asshole. He presses firmly and it slides in with some resistance, stops just inside, allows me to adjust to the intruding digit.

I breath out, try to relax, enjoy what I hope will come to be. 

Unbeknownst to Dad or Lee, earlier in the evening, when I had excused myself to use the bathroom, I slipped into the bedroom Lee is occupying. I went into the leather kit I had retrieved the band aide from earlier. I borrowed the tube of lubricant from the bottom of the kit. 

After I had relieved myself, washed up well, I used a small bottle of water to rinse out inside my butt. I made myself a homemade douche. I was determined that nothing was going to go wrong tonight. 

Once I felt assured that everything was sparkling clean down there, I proceeded to apply a liberal amount of lubricant to my butt hole. I worked it in very well with my middle finger until I could feel myself relax to the point that I was able to add a second, then a third, right up to the bottom knuckle. I worked my hole to the point that I was sure that I was relaxed enough for my plan to move forward.

Dad slowly moves his finger in and out of my hole. When he is just about ready to pull all the way out, he begins to move it in a circular motion, stretching my hole a little wider, then a little wider with every pass. He begins to move his head back and forth over my hard dick, no longer using his teeth to rake my sensitive penis. He uses his large, thick tongue to rub the underside of my shaft, his mouth moves from tip to balls. When he gets to the base of my penis, his tongue darts out from beneath my throbbing dick, it extends, he licked my ball sack. 

He pulls his head off my penis, it smacks Dad on the side of his face. He lunges forward, pulls my left nut into his mouth, sucks so hard that I let out a little yelp, only to suck in the right ball too. My distended sack being sucked into his mouth, Dad rolls my testicles back and forth with his tongue, never letting up on the suction of my sack into his mouth. 

He continues sucking all the while, causing them to hurt. I wince at the pain. I feel sudden emptiness as he yanks his fingers out of my greased up asshole.

Dad looks up at me. I am being driven mad at this point. I deserve this, I know it, I had done pretty much the same thing to him. I had left him on the verge of blowing his load only to leave him wanting. 

He smiles a most devious smile, opens his mouth as wide as he can manage, sticks out his tongue, it looks like the flattened head of a King Cobra!

In one swallow, Dad takes my penis to the base. This time he also takes his free hand, cups my balls, then forces them into his mouth along with my rock hard dick. He sucks and sucks until I yelp again. He is pulling back as far as he can, my balls stretched in their sack to the point that I nearly have tears rolling down my face.

I yank as hard as I can, with a mighty effort, my sore balls and penis are pulled out of Dad's suction cup of a mouth. I feel the scraping of his whiskers, like sandpaper on the underside of my dickhead. I force my hips back, as far away from his face as I can. 




The Vacation House Ch. 09



There it is, the head of Dad's huge dick, pressing the outside ring of my asshole. We are almost there.

"NO! Robbie NO, don't" He cries out, trying to get his hands free quick enough to push me up from my asses downward motion.

The head of Dad's dick presses and stretches the lips of my asshole. I feel a burning, tearing pain. I stop forcing myself down onto the monstrous cock.

Dad's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes fill with fear and shock. He lay motionless, stock still, not able to move. He appears to be holding his breath, trying not to make any sudden movement that could possibly injure me.

I pull my bottom lip against my lower teeth, tighten my jaw, breath in as deeply as I can. I force myself downward dealing with the ripping pain. I stop again, try to catch my breath. 

Have I just taken on more than I can handle? Am I kidding myself thinking that I can somehow take Dad's giant prick on the very first try? Especially after having been warned by Dad as to what had happened to his cousin Bo? Am I going to actually rip myself wide open? Maybe rip my asshole so badly that I might possibly need medical attention, worse yet, maybe never be able to close my asshole again? 

The mental images of crap not being able to stay inside myself sent a shiver of fear up my spine.

This is bullshit, I ram myself all the way down on Dad's huge rod, right to the base. I feel his rough pubic hairs being mashed against my hairless ass cheeks. 

Trying to relax, I just allow my bowels adjust to the huge object buried to the hilt inside of me. I feel the constant twitch of my ass as it tightens and tightens and then tightens again around the invader. It pulses with every heartbeat, then it finally begins to relax. I feel something deep inside let go. It almost sends me into orgasm but I am able to just control myself. 

The relaxation comes, I slowly rise myself up on my hands, braced against the mattress. I slowly press myself upward, allow the length of Dad's dick to slide up to the head. 

I look down at him, his face still showing shock, his eyes wide as a cat's. "You sure about this Robbie?" 

"Yeah Dad, I'm fine, I love it, I love you!."

I feel the slow movement of the giant flesh monster again making its way deep inside of me. 10 plus inches in length, well over 3" in width being fucked into me. Dad is finally mine, my hole, finally his. I feel a sensation of abject pain and pleasure, he hits a spot deep inside my ass. He continues past it, I feel it hit something else inside. It feels like some sort of wall way up inside my ass. 

Dad does not stop pushing into me, he continues his motion, I feel a sudden tearing deep inside, a feeling of heat, then something in there relaxes. 

The head of his dick finds another place deep inside of me, one that I had not come to or recognize when I had fingered myself the few times that I tried to prepare for this night.

I am now being fucked, I mean really fucked! Dad's wide dick splitting me apart, then ramming right up into my belly. I place my hands onto each of my ass cheeks, pull them apart, creating as wide, as deep an entry path possible. 

The fucking quicken, the assault on my hole becomes more insistent almost angry. I look at Dad's face, into his dark eyes, he looks MAD! I mean he looks so angry. He begins to fuck the hell out of me as if he is trying to actually hurt me... 

"I am gonna fuck the living shit out of you, you little bitch. You hear me? I am going to rip your asshole right out from that pretty little butt of yours. You want to be raped? Well, you got it bucko, I am going to use you. Rip you until you feel you are being fucked by a fire hydrant!"

I throw my head back and let out a moan. I have waited for so long for this moment, for Dad to take me, use me, make me his, his FUCK! I am my Dad's FUCK HOLE! I am going to be used, used all the time, ripped six ways to Sunday! I want this pain, I want it to last forever. I want him to hurt me, I want him to make me beg for him to beat my ass every night with a belt, beg for him to fill me with his huge dick, make him cum up my ass!

"Sorry." the room is suddenly flooded with light from the opening of the bedroom door. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?" 

"SLAM" the room is plunged into darkness as quickly as it had been flooded with the light from the hallway.

"SHIT, shit, shit, shit!" Dad's panicked voice hisses at me. 

I'm roughly shoved upward and off the side of the bed. I hit the floor with a deafening "THUD". The pain that shoots from my right elbow is matched only by the ripping feeling in the depth of my asshole.

Dad jumps up, I see him bending over, grabbing at the pile of worn cloths from the evening before. He fumbles for a short time, flustered, muttering, "fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit". 

He pulls on a pair of boxer shorts, I hear the tearing sound of fabric. He moves across the room toward the door with the speed of a train. He turns to me, I can see the fear etched across his face, reflecting the fading moonlight filtering into a small area of the master bedroom. 

"Fuck Robbie, we're really fucked, you know that!" 

Dad grabs the doorknob, turns it, opens the door, walks out, slams it shut hard.

I'm sprawled on the floor along side the bed. I don't know what the hell to do. I feel the most awful sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fear turning my once overheated sexually frustrated body, into a block of ice.

Loud voices filter into the master bedroom. Even with the door tightly closed, I can make out two deep male voices, not screaming but arguing. I just can't make out what is being said. 

Too afraid to move, I stay frozen on the spot I had been thrown to by Dad. 

"SLAM" I feel a shaking of the floor, and realize that the front door of the vacation house had just been slammed shut. 

Silence, deafening silence, darkness surrounds me, I begin to shake. I feel my once hard penis pulled up inside of me. My balls pull up into tightness, pain pulses deep inside my asshole, just under the inside of my balls and the area of flesh that leads to my asshole. I can not explain this pain, it is intense, it is pulsing, I feel my dick begin to swell again. 

"SLAM" the front door slamming shakes the house again. I feel a bit of the clear fluid seeping from the tip of my hardening prick. I shudder with fear while still sitting on the cool hardwood floor of the master bedroom.