This story is purely fictional and is based solely on the author's imagination. Any connection between real people or situations is purely coincidental. It depicts a love relationship between two men, both being of legal age, and their involvement with a teen boy.
This story is a sequel to the story CABIN IN PARADISE, which can be found in the "Beginnings" section of Nifty's Archives. The author recommends you read that story first. Otherwise, there may be parts in this one that just don't make sense!
The author reserves all copyright privileges. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author, and may not be linked to any pay sites.
Chapter 4
As I said, I don't know why I decided on the movie. Call it fate, call it "divine destiny." The reason didn't matter. We were there, and as the lights brightened, the two boys we had been watching so gleefully stood and turned toward us.
As their eyes met, the smiles that had appeared on Timothy and Jacob's faces only moments ago quickly vanished.
For Timothy, it was instant despair. For Jacob; guilt.
As though time froze in place, the two just stared at each other, unable to believe that the other was there. No words, just a frozen stare, that I'm certain would have lasted all night, had it not been broken by the sudden nudging of Jacob's date.
"Dude, let's go," the impatient young man said.
"Huh?" Jacob shaken from his stare, remembered who he come to the movie with. "Yeah, um, okay."
Timothy watched as the boy who took his virginity walked past, still not a word spoken.
I watched as well, except my stare was bitter anger. And then, as I turned to Timothy, I saw him slump back down into his seat, the heartbreak and disappointment lodged in his throat like a baseball lodged into a straw. His voice stolen, his eyes reddening, his heart crumbling.
Quietly, I sat back down next to him. There were a hundred things I wanted to say; and a thousand snide comments about Jacob. Still, I quietly placed my arm around him.
Timothy sank into my shoulder, careless of who might see, and burst into tears.
"One uses cautious judgment when terminating an employee," Kenny said, rather coldly.
"We're talking about our son, here, Kenny. This isn't a negotiation!" My passion speaking louder than any logical perspective.
"How long have you known me? Do you think for a second I don't think of Timothy as our son?"
I paused, caught off guard by Kenny's sudden raised voice.
"You don't cry wolf every time you see paw prints, Russell," Kenny continued. "And you don't fire somebody just because he's an asshole. No matter WHO he is an asshole to!"
"So? You're telling me you're going to do NOTHING?" I demanded, tears already forming in my eyes.
Kenny's serious face suddenly smiled. "Have I ever avoided my responsibilities? Haven't I always taken care of things?"
I nodded, despite myself.
"I am going to care of this situation as well, but you have to trust me, Russell. Let me handle things my way, okay?"
His words were like arrows, but I knew deep, deep inside, that he was right.
Just then, Timothy entered the room. I was sure he had heard at least part of the conversation. How could he not?
"Does it have to hurt this bad?" He looked at me, his face red, his cheeks wet.
I pulled him to my chest. "I'm so sorry, Timothy. I had no idea."
"Is this normal?" Timothy asked, another tear raining down his cheek.
"Normal?" Kenny shouted, the word escaping his lips. He caught himself. "Listen, Kid, you're anything but normal. WE are anything but normal. And who wants to be normal anyway? But, no, this isn't normal. Just because you're gay, doesn't mean you're gonna be beat up every time you get into a relationship. Take your Uncle and me. Hell, I dated twenty guys before I found him. And now look. I couldn't be happier!" Kenny touched my shoulder.
I looked up at my life-partner and all worry left me, as though I was a wounded bird, and Kenny was my graceful protector. "It's true. I'm the happiest I've ever been. More than I thought could be."
I lifted Timothy's chin. "You'll find that love, Timothy, and when you do..." I paused, gulping down the lump in my throat.
"What if Jacob is the one?"
"He's not!" Kenny blurted out. "That asshole doesn't deserve the right to lick your shoes!"
"Kenny!" I responded. I didn't disagree with his sentiments about Jacob, but I wasn't fond of tossing Timothy's emotions around like a basketball.
"What? You want me to lie to the kid? Tell him that Jacob is the greatest fag that ever walked the face of God's Earth? Come on, Russell. You know it, I know it, and now Timothy knows it. The guy's scum. Period." With that, Kenny left the room.
Say what you want about my Kenny, but he knows quite well how to drive a point home, and then make his point stick with a poignant exit.
After a moment or two, Timothy spoke. "Uncle Russell? Do you think Uncle Kenny's right? I mean, Jacob was just making out and stuff, right? I mean, geez, it's not like we're married." Timothy was attempting to be strong. Hold his head high. But, he was failing at the effort...miserably. After all, he had seen his first lover embraced in the arms of someone else. Who wouldn't be crushed?
"His name was John Anderson," I whispered softly, snuggling my cheek closer to Timothy, his warm skin against mine. "We were Sophomores; Best Friends; inseparable, actually. My mom used to call us the Bobsie-Twins."
"Who?" Timothy asked.
"Never mind. The point is, John and I did everything together. That year, we even shared most of our classes, including gym class." I sighed a moment, remembering my high school days. "One day, after gym class, Coach asked us to stay behind. You know, help clean up and stuff. That left John and I, alone, to shower before heading home for the day."
"Was he gay?"
"Oh yeah. Still, I didn't know it at the time. Oh, trust me, I wished for it...more than anything else. But, I didn't push my luck. Didn't dare! He was Junior Captain of the wrestling team, and jocks...well, they have a certain reputation, you know."
Timothy nodded, listening intently.
"So, we're in the shower, and sure enough, it happens. I spring wood."
Timothy giggled.
"You laugh, but when you're trying really hard to hide the fact that you've got the hots for your best friend, it's more than a little embarrassing to pop a boner when you're in the shower with him."
"Did he freak out?"
"Nope. In fact, he didn't say anything...or DO anything about it. Acted as if he didn't even notice."
"How cool."
"Yeah, John was very cool. Well, a couple weeks later, John's mom had to leave town on business. Sure, he was sixteen, and could have stayed at home alone, but why do that when you have a best friend to hang out with? So, I invited him to spend the night. After all, that's what buddies do."
I paused, as Timothy looked up at me, already anticipating where my story was going.
"Oh yeah, I was desperate to see his cute white butt naked again. Oh, sure, I brushed it off, convincing everybody that I was only looking out for my best friend. But inside, I wanted him close to me, even if I couldn't touch him; just being around him was intoxicating for me."
"Geez, Uncle Russell, you had it bad."
"I knew I was gay, but nobody except your mom, knew. Especially not John. So, that night, as we settled in for the night; John on a fold-out cot, me in my bed, we started talking. As usual, the conversation soon led to sex. It always did with us. He would talk about the girl he was fucking in the next town; I would talk about one of the hot cheerleaders at our school. I was never really good at lying, but John seemed to buy it. That is, until that night."
"What happened?" Timothy asked, his interest piqued.
I pulled Timothy closer still, as I relived that cool winter night...
"I'm tellin' ya, she's always on me. She can't get enough. And she LOVES to give me hickies all over my body. It's like a territory mark with her." John said, his smile from ear to ear.
"You poor guy. At least she likes to suck," I sniped, having nothing to compare.
"Yeah, she does. Likes to swallow too." John laughed.
"Damn! You serious? She eats it? Fuck, that's awesome. How'd you find this girl, anyway?"
"You remember the Eagles/Spirits game? She sat on the wrong set of bleachers. Or, the right set, if you know what I mean. Anyway, we made out by the snack shack, and then she gave me her number. I've been seeing her ever since."
"Well, that explains the huge hickie Mrs. Thomas threw a fit about in fourth period."
"Aaaa, she's an old bitty who just needs a good fucking."
"Ewww!" I responded.
John laughed, "I knew that'd get ya." John's voice deepened. "Can I tell you something...kinda weird?"
"Sure. You can tell me anything," I answered nervously.
"Well, Sally likes to suck on my chest and stuff, and really likes sucking on my nipples. I totally get hard every time she does it."
"Oh man, that's so wild."
"You don't think it's weird?"
"Why should I? If it gets you horny, who cares?"
"Yeah, I guess so. It's just that lately, I like, beg her to do it. I mean, geez, I'm getting hard now just thinking about it."
I didn't respond. If John was trying to tell me something, I was too shy or too stupid to know it.
Even though the room was dim, lit only by a sliver of moonlight, I could see John reposition himself on the cot.
I finally spoke, deciding to run with this as far as I could. "Yeah, I can just see you, lying there, butt naked, her soft lips sliding across your skin, giving you goose bumps as she sucks each nipple until it's hard as rock."
John was silent, but shifted again.
"I'll bet she's even sucked her initials into your skin, until you're practically screaming for her to stop."
"Oh man, cut it out, you're really making me horny." John responded.
But I didn't stop. "Moving her hands up and down your body, as she sucks and sucks."
"Rusty, I'm serious, cut it out."
"Oh yeah, like you're really hard," I quipped. Okay, it was a test, but I was already in this deep.
"Maybe not as hard as you were in the shower."
I froze again. After a moment's pause, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Fuck you don't. I saw you totally springing wood."
"I did not."
"Fuck, man, you did too. And, so did I."
I paused again. My heartbeat pounding in my ears, which only matched the firm beat pounding through my now rock-hard boy dick. "You still horny?" I asked.
"Oh yeah." John whispered.
I kicked off my covers and slowly moved over to the foot of the cot. I began to slide my hands under the covers.
"What are you doing?" John asked, softly.
"I couldn't let my best friend suffer, could I?" I moved further up, my hands brushing the soft hairs on his thin legs.
John fell silent, as we crossed a barrier that we had not crossed before.
As I moved further up John's legs, he slid the covers to one side; the moonlight spot-lighting his stiff, cut dick, as though it were a single performer on a stage.
To this day, I don't know how he'd managed to slip off his underwear without me knowing, but he was naked; hard; and allowed me to do whatever I wanted.
As my warm hand cupped his round firm balls, he moaned softly. That was the last time our eyes met, for he rested his head backward, closed his eyes, and gave himself to me.
John was my first lover, and I had no idea what to do, but I knew I wanted that gorgeous dick in my mouth, and that's exactly what I did. I leaned in, kissing the very tip of his six-inch dick.
John moaned again.
This only encouraged me, as I opened my mouth, engulfing the full length into my mouth.
"Oh yes," he softly whispered, wrapping his hands around my head, and pulling me down on him.
I'd heard of girls "giving head," and desperately wanted to satisfy him. I moved up and down quickly, my teeth scraping his shaft unknowingly.
"Easy, Rusty, fuck! It's not a popsicle, man!"
I released his pink monster. "Sorry."
"It's cool, just don't bite."
I tried again, this time more conscious of my teeth, and slowly working over his dick.
By now, my own cock was beginning to leak. I couldn't help it. I had my best friend's cock buried between my lips...a place I'd only dreamed of being.
"Yeah, that's it. Damn, you're a fucking natural. Mmmm, that's it, suck that dick. I knew you'd like it...I just knew it."
I looked up at John, his eyes closed.
"Yeah, I knew you wanted my dick, and I wanted you to have it...yeah, keep sucking. Oh man, this feels so good."
His words only encouraged me and turned me on more than ever.
His soft moans directed me, and if I strayed off course, a simple "uh-uh" guided me back to his pleasure zone.
It was then that I received my first taste of his clear nectar. I slowed at first, savoring his precum on my tongue, but grew hungry for more. I was surprised at it's mild taste.
"Fuck, Rusty, this is awesome. I should've let you suck me a long time ago."
"Mm, hmm," I agreed, my mouth filled with his pleasure stick.
As I continued to work John's pole, he grew silent, except for the occasional moans and cooing. I began massaging his nut sac, which only increased his pleasure.
However, my enjoyment of his dick would not last forever, and just as I was beginning to develop some kind of real rhythm, John grabbed my cheeks.
"I'm gonna blow, Rusty," he said, trying to force me off his cock.
It was too late. I'd taken the risk, and earned my prize, and I wasn't about to let go now.
"I'm serious, I'm gonna cream," John tried pushing harder, which only made me suck harder, locking my lips around him.
His passion took over, and he quickly grabbed my hair, pulling me tightly against him, as his life-giving nectar washed across my tongue, quickly coating the back of my throat.
It shocked me at first, and I tried to break free, but John held tight, as stream after precious stream of his boy cum poured into me.
I swallowed and choked, but John continued to hold tight.
I was certain I was going to pass out, and just as I was about to gag, John's passion subsided, and he released his grip.
I pulled from his still swollen dick, as a small droplet of cum dripped down his shaft.
I choked and coughed, his cum splattering on his belly.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
I nodded my head, as I tried to suck air into my lungs.
"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I sputtered. "I wanted it. I just wasn't expecting it."
I grabbed my t-shirt from the floor, cleaning his belly and my lips. John's taste was still on my tongue, and his aroma overwhelmed my nose.
Although I'd smelled and even tasted my own sperm, this was different it seemed. Stronger, I thought.
I stood from the bed, and was about to speak, when John said, "We should get some sleep. Thanks for the great head. Good night."
With that, he rolled over, satisfied and happy.
I stood there for a moment almost dumbfounded, my hard-on leaking onto my foot.
I wanted nothing more than to jack-off right there, and blast my best-friend with my own juice.
But, my shyness once again kicked in. "Good night," I whispered, and returned to my bed.
In almost no time, John was sound asleep, snoring softly.
I tried to sleep, but my aching cock wouldn't let me. I finally jerked off a load, wiped myself clean with the same t-shirt, tossed it aside and drifted to sleep.
"The next day John left for home. He never said a word about that night, and over the next couple of weeks, we just sort of...well, drifted apart."
"Geez!" Timothy said.
"Over summer break, I'd heard that John had gotten his girl pregnant. His mom flipped and moved him to another state, two thousand miles away.
I never saw him again. I cried for a week. My mom asked why, and my sister said it was because I was stressed out about school starting up again without a best friend.
It was a lie...well, a half-lie anyway, and I loved your mother even more for it."
Timothy looked at me and smiled.
"You never forget your first love, Timothy. Like your first driving lesson, and the first time you jack off. Milestones. Plain and simple."
Timothy hugged me tightly. "I guess I'm not going to die after all, huh?"
"Hardly. At least not while I'm around. I meant what I said, Timothy. You'll find your true love, and when you do, all the others will seem like distant memories. Good or bad."
"Is Uncle Kenny going to fire him?"
"I don't know, Timothy."
"I hope not. I mean, I don't know. I'm hurt, but, I guess I don't hate Jacob."
I hated Jacob. He stabbed my boy's heart, and hadn't even the balls to apologize. But, I could see already, that Timothy took after his mother, and not me. His gentle compassion was something I could learn from.
"You're a good man, Timothy. A better man than I."
Kenny walked in and nodded to me. "Coming to bed?"
"Just now," I answered.
Kenny was about to walk out.
"Uncle Kenny?" Timothy said.
Kenny turned back in.
"Don't fire Jacob. I want to see him again...and talk to him."
I was as surprised as Kenny. However, Kenny, ever the tactful one, just smiled. "We're here if you need us, Kid. Good night."
"Good night," Timothy answered, hugging me before I rose from the couch.
"Good night, my Angel Boy," I said, kissing his forehead. "I mean, my brave man."
I choked. It was then that I realized that the frail, scared, and walled-up boy that I retrieved from the teen house was growing up before my eyes. My time with Timothy would be short; I knew this. But knowledge doesn't ease the pain.
Jacob reported for work uncharacteristically early. Kenny was waiting at the front door, and as Jacob approached, he hesitated.
"Good morning, Jacob," Kenny said, a solemn, but not unpleasant look on his face.
"Good morning, Sir." Jacob responded. "Would you like me to tend to the garden today?"
"No. You'll be reassigned to Manuel today. He hasn't arrived yet, so please wait for him by the tool shed." Kenny turned, walked into the house, and shut the door before Jacob could respond.
As Jacob began to descend the steps, Timothy opened the door. "Jake, wait. I want to talk to you."
I hope you're enjoying my story of Russell, Kenny, and Timothy. I welcome comments and questions, so email me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com
I also have other stories posted on Nifty. If you'd like the titles, just ask me.