CHAPTER 18
Florence and Nelson Champlain went out of their way to make James feel welcome and at home. James couldn't help thinking about his newly discovered family when he remembered that Brock's mother was also named Florence. It also reminded him that Brock's family was honest, uncomplicated, and loving. James longed for that from his own family.
Florence Champlain wanted to make a fancy meal, but Brock had insisted on one of his favorites, beef stew.
"Seriously Brock, I can't believe I agreed to make stew for the first time James eats with us. What will he think?" Florence said as she stirred a large pot of stew.
Brock gave her a kiss, and said, "Mom, he will think this is the best stew he has ever had. We're teenager boys home for the holidays. What we want is something good, homey, and lots of it. You can keep your fancy shmancy stuff for one of your dinner parties."
"I hope you're right. I only get one chance to make a good first impression."
"Relax Mom, you and Dad have already made a good first impression. James thinks you guys are perfect; after all, you had me."
Florence laughed, "Don't be silly, we got you from the pound."
Brock spread his arms and put on his biggest smile, then said, "What can I say, if you want a cute puppy, get a mutt."
They both laughed, then Brock checked to be sure James and his father were still in the den where Nelson was showing off the results of his amateur photography skills. Nelson was an architect and real estate redeveloper and had taken up photography as a way to document a building's historic character before renovations began. It had evolved from a tool to a passion.
When Brock was sure James and his father were out of earshot he asked, "Have you and Dad talked about sleeping arrangements?"
"Yes dear, we did."
After a longer than expected pause, Brock nervously prompted, "So, what did you and Dad decide?"
"We decided it's none of our business."
Brock hugged his mother and said, "You and Dad are the best."
Since the boys intended to use the workout facilities at the mansion in the morning, James and Brock had decided to stay in Brooklyn rather than driving all the way back to the apartment. Brock hadn't been sure how his parents would react to him and James sharing a bed.
Before the meal began, Nelson said, "Since you boys aren't driving tonight, would you like beer to go with your stew? I picked up a really nice Oktoberfest beer from the Grimm Brewery." James and Brock both nodded their agreement.
The conversation was light and very comfortable. James found the Champlains to be very easy to talk to, and Brock was clearly happy his parents and boyfriend got along so well. For dessert, Florence served a pumpkin jelly roll with cream cheese filling, and coffee.
Florence didn't need to worry about what James would think of stew for supper; he ate three bowls plus several slices of fresh baked bread. James complimented Florence several times on the meal, and eagerly accepted a second slice of the dessert when she offered.
Florence looked at Brock, and asked, "Do you and James have plans for after supper?"
Brock replied, "I thought the tradition was that on the first night of a holiday vacation, we play cards."
"It is," Nelson said, "but Jessica, Ryan, and the kids are spending Thanksgiving with Ryan's parents in California, and we weren't sure you and James would want to play."
"Of course we would want to play, right James?"
"Absolutely," James replied.
The Champlain family's game of choice was Bridge. James knew how to play because his grandfather had taught him. After James' grandmother died, he had even been his grandfather's partner on several occasions."
Brock and James were partners, and both were competent players, but predictably they lost to Brock's parents. Nelson and Florence had been Bridge partners for 20 years, and it showed. It takes a while for partners to develop the rapport needed to make the kind of risky bids it sometimes took to win a contract. James' grandfather told him about a couple in their Bridge club who were in the middle of a messy divorce but stayed Bridge partners because they just clicked.
Between the first and second games, Nelson got out a bottle of Henry McKenna 10-year-aged bourbon. Earlier, James had noticed a variety of whiskies of various ages and qualities, mostly bourbon, when Nelson was showing off his architectural photos. However, what tipped James off that Nelson was serious about his whiskey was that he poured Florence's shot in a Glencairn Whisky Glass, the mark of a true whiskey snob. Both his grandfather and father had a set of Glencairns.
After pouring Florence's drink, he asked James and Brock if they wanted a drink. Brock said he'd stick with beer, but James took Nelson up on his offer. James swirled the whiskey in the glass, sniffed it, and took a sip.
"James, I'm impressed. Most men even older than you don't know how to properly taste a whiskey."
James smiled and said, "My grandfather was a bourbon man, and my father drinks Scotch. They both insisted I learn how to drink whiskey properly. They said it was an essential business skill. Plus, Pierce International has a wine and spirits division."
"I am invested in Pierce International," Nelson said. "I guess I've never paid enough attention to the share holders report to notice the wine and spirits division."
Grandfather bought wineries, distilleries, and breweries because he liked the idea of a craft industry. My father told me that he kept that division when he took over Pierce International because it's a hedge against an economic downturn. He told me the worse the economy, the better the liquor business. Plus, there's Leland Pierce's Christmas Reserve. Each Christmas certain friendly politicians, the Board of Directors, and special investors get a bottle of Great Grandpa Lelands' VIP Christmas Cheer. The irony is that Leland Pierce was a teetotaler and a mover behind the 18th Amendment that brought on Prohibition."
Nelson laughed, "That is a great story."
The four played two more games before calling it an evening. Before going to bed, Florence said, "Nelson and I will probably be gone before you two wake up. We volunteered to help with prep for the parish Thanksgiving meal. So, we probably won't see you two again until Thanksgiving dinner." Florence then gave both Brock and James a kiss on the forehead and said goodnight.
Brock took James up to the third floor where his bedroom was. Well, in reality, Brock's bedroom was the third floor. The third floor was actually only half the square footage of the rest of the brownstone. The rest of the third story area was a rooftop deck that included a basketball half court.
"This is pretty sweet." James said.
"Yeah, I really can't complain," Brock said. "My parents have really given me a great life. There are times I really feel guilty about how lucky I got in the great parental lottery. There are times when I see stories about life for kids in the hood, and I can't believe how unfair life is. I got the silver spoon, and they got the shaft."
"So, we are both spoiled, rich, white boys," James said. "What are we going to do about that."
"Well, we could forsake our inheritances and join a monastery."
"There are two problems with that plan. First, I'm not Catholic and I'm pretty sure that's a prerequisite for joining a monastery. Second, even if the Catholic Church was okay with homosexuality, monks take a vow of chastity. I don't know about you, but for me, that ain't going to happen."
"You make a good point. Monastic life isn't the answer. However, I will say I have always been intrigued by the holy orders."
"Really, I can't imagine you, or any of the jocks at Mill Brook ever joining an order. If anyone would, I would think it would be the nerds."
"That's where you are wrong. Most of the real nerds would never make it in an order, but the jocks would."
James laughed, and said, "This will be good, what's your argument?"
"Okay, just hear me out. People confuse nerds and geeks the same way they confuse frat boys and jocks. There are some guys that are both frat boys and jocks; however, not all jocks are frat boys, and not all frat boys are jocks. The same is true of geeks and nerds."
"I think you'd better define your terms, Mr. Webster."
"I will. A geek is socially awkward, and therefore exists on the fringe of a group. Geeks may be experts' in particular areas, like computers or D&D, but they are not particularly knowledgable or comfortable outside their narrow area of expertise. Moreover, Geeks are always trying to gain acceptance from the group's social arbiters, the cool kids'."
"However, nerds are like walking encyclopedias. They know a lot about a lot of things. They study and they observe. Most importantly they are not socially awkward; in fact, they are very capable of functioning in any group. If they are on the social fringes, it is because they have chosen to be there, not because they have been forced there. Nerds are stigmatized because they are a threat to the cool kids.' Nerds don't need the cool kids' validation, and they don't give a crap about `the cool kids' norms and code of conduct. They live by their own rules."
"Really," James said, "let's just set aside for a moment that you are so full of shit. Tell me, am I a geek or a nerd."
"You know the answer. You're a nerd. I have gotten a closeup look at you, and although you claim to be socially awkward, it's pretty clear you are very socially competent when you want to be. When you decided to join the group rather than stay on the fringe, you easily made friends, gained acceptance from `the cool kids', and are actually rewriting the social rules."
"I still don't see why you think jocks would be better monks than nerds." James said.
"Because jocks care about the rules of the game. We may occasionally break them, but we would never ignore them or try to change them. The rules determine who wins the game. Nerds don't give a fuck about winning the game, so they barely acknowledge that the rules exist, and they certainly have no hesitation about changing them."
James thought about it for a minute and then said, "Before I destroy your argument like it's a sheet of single ply toilet paper on burrito night, I want to give it some serious thought."
"Now I'm calling bull shit. I'm winning the argument. So, since I'm winning, I get to decide which of us is top and which of us is bottom."
"Again, you are not winning the argument," James said, "I am just letting you think you are...until I totally annihilate you."
"Whatever," Brock said and pulled James in for an obscenely hot kiss. Then asked, "Do you want to argue or fuck?"
"Fuck! I want to fuck so bad, but what about your parents."
"I don't know. They can fuck if they want to."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"Yeah, when I asked mom about sleeping arrangements, her comment was what we do up here is none of their business."
"You asked your mother!?"
"I sure as hell wasn't going to ask my dad! Talk about awkward, Hey Dad, my boyfriend is probably going to make me his bitch tonight, so don't worry if you hear me yelling and moaning harder, faster, pound my jock boy ass'. And if you didn't catch that, you're going wild on my ass tonight."
It was a surprise to both boys the night they discovered how much Brock could get into being used like a man whore. Usually, their sex was playful, sensual, or romantic. However, there were times when they explored the darker end of the sexual spectrum.
Before they left Concord, Brock had stopped at a local hardware store and bought a length of nylon rope. Now he dug to the bottom of his duffle, pulled it out, and tossed it to James. James knew what that meant.
Several times Brock had mentioned that he occasionally thought about the morning James found him tied to the library fence. He mentioned that he sometimes wondered what it would have been like if James had taken advantage of his helplessness. While James initially resisted the idea of bondage, he did have to finally admit he had fantasized about Brock bound, helpless, and exposed.
Brock stripped off all of his clothes and walked over to the corner of his room where he had a set of weights and a workout bench. Brock laid down on the bench facing the ceiling. His cock was already getting hard as he grabbed hold of the barbell rack with both hands.
James slowly removed his own shirt and pants and stood for a minute wearing just a skimpy pair of black briefs struggling to contain his huge cock. Brock watched as James pulled out the same knife he'd used to free him from the library fence, but now James was using it to cut the rope into segments that would soon bind him to the bench. James first tied one of Brock's wrists to each of the barbell stands. Then he ran a rope under the bench and across Brock's chest so he couldn't rise up from the bench. While bending down to tie the two ends of the restraining rope, James took the opportunity to sniff Brock's pits. They were full of a sweet manly musk that James found intoxicating. He couldn't resist tasting the warm, salty, pheromone rich cavities.
When Brock was secured to the bench, James walked behind the bench as if he were going to spot Brock doing a heavy bench press. He took off his briefs and let his cock and balls dangle over Brock's head, but no matter how hard Brock strained to reach James' balls, the rope over his chest prohibited that.
James hovered over Brock and taunted him. "What's the matter? Your tongue too short to reach? Damn boy, first it's your cock, and now it's your tongue..."
"I told you my cock is normal size. You're the freak," Brock said, struggling against the ropes.
James laughed, "Boy, save your strength. You're not getting free until I decide it's time."
"Fucking dweeb, I can kick your skinny....."
Brock couldn't finish his sentence because James stuck his briefs in Brock's mouth. James bent down and said, "I didn't get all of that. What did you say?"
Brock mumbled something, then James said, "Oh, I see. You need something to make you happy. Here let me see what I can do."
For the next hour James edged Brock. James would stroke, lick, suck, and kiss Brock's impossibly hard cock. Then just before Brock could achieve the release he desperately needed, James would back off, leaving Brock hard and desperate.
Finally, James straddled Brock and bent down until their faces were within inches of each other. James said, "So boy, are you still planning to kick my skinny, nerd ass?"
Brock shook his head, and James removed his briefs from Brock's mouth.
"Please James, you've got to let me cum. Please, please, fuck the cum out of me."
James cut two more lengths of rope and this time he used them to tie each of Brock's ankles to the barbell stands. Brock's legs were spread and his hole was completely exposed. James blew on Brock's pucker and it twitched.
Now it was Brock's ass that was tormented. James licked and probed Brock's boy pussy, and Brock's cock was dripping unbelievable amounts of precum on his abs. Brock started to beg to cum, and James said, "One more whiny ass word out of you and we stop and try again in the morning. FYI if that happens, you'll stay tied up until then. Understand?"
Brock nodded.
Finally, James decided Brock had had enough and he positioned his cock at the entrance to Brock's love hole. James then began to push until his cock slipped inside. Brock's ass seemed made for James's cock, like a scabbard for a long sword. With Brock's legs tied to the barbell stands, James knew his cock would be visiting places it never had before, so he took it easy and only increased the vigor of his thrusts as Brock was able to adjust. However, it wasn't long before Brock was getting the railing he wanted. James was absolutely relentless, and Brock was loving every thrust.
Finally, Brock groaned and cum exploded from his cock. Rope after rope of creamy white spunk covered Brock's chest and abs, and a dollop even landed on his lips for him to taste.
When Brock was finished and could again speak, he looked and said, "You're not finished until you fill my ass." James smiled and did as he was told.
When James had shot at last, he slowly withdrew. James then began untying Brock. Brock had been tied up for so long his muscles were spaghetti. James helped him to the bed then began massaging his legs. arms and the rest of his body. Unlike the session they'd just finished, the massage was tender and therapeutic. Brock seemed to melt with James' touch.
When Brock was completely relaxed and his muscles had regained their strength, James cuddled up with Brock and asked, "Was that what you wanted?"
"Oh yes, and more. I loved it, but I also know that isn't your thing."
"Look babe," James said, "Occasionally, the rough kinky stuff is fun and a change of pace, but making love is what really compliments our relationship. I don't ever want that to change."
"Neither do I."
Since he and Brock started sleeping together, the moment of crossing from awake to asleep had become one of James' favorite times of the day. Held in Brock's muscular arms, James felt safe and protected. This was his happy place.
In the morning Brock and James were up early, ate a quick breakfast, and headed back to the estate for a quick workout. After stretching they were ready to do some serious lifting. The first lifts were going to be bench presses, and as they moved toward the bench, Brock hesitated for just a moment, but James saw it.
"What was that?" James asked.
"What?"
"You...I don't know....flinched," James said, not sure how to describe what he saw.
"I didn't flinch."
"Okay, flinch may not be the right word, but you reacted to the sight of the bench. What's going on? Are you having some kind of reaction to last night?"
"Maybe."
"Let's talk. Did I go too far?"
Brock and James sat down on the bench together, and for a minute both were silent. Brock seemed to be working on what he wanted to say. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "I liked it. I liked it a lot, but it's kind of scary. I never considered myself anything but an alpha male. I have always been a star athlete and a team leader, but when you take charge... it's ....well it's fucking exciting."
"That bothers you?"
"I guess it does, and I don't know why. I guess it's ego."
James turned Brock's face and gave him a kiss, "Babe, if you don't want to do that again we won't ever do it again."
"See, that's the problem. I liked it, and would like to do it again. It's just so weird wanting something, but feeling it isn't something you should want," Brock said.
James put his hand on Brock's muscular thigh and gently rubbed, then he said, "Let me tell you what I want. I want us to make tender, passionate, sensual love tonight. I want to share my body with you and I want you to share yours with me. Can we do that for each other?"
Brock smiled and nodded.
Then James said, "Can I ask one more thing?"
"Sure babe. Whatever you want."
"I want you to transform me from a scrawny nerd into an athletic god. I want you to take control of my body and remake me in your image."
Brock smiled and said, "I promise you sweat and pain, but most importantly, I promise you results." He then gave James' ass a squeeze and said, "Let's build some muscle."
I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Exposed." If you did, consider donating to Nifty.org to keep this site up and a place to share our stories. Also, if you are interested in my other stories, you can find them at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#williammarshal.