This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
Ty and I woke the next morning to painfully loud music coming from somewhere in the house. I rolled over and looked at the clock, which showed 8.07.
Ty squeezed his eyes shut and between gritted teeth mumbled, "Bit fuckin' early for AC/DC isn't it?"
I laughed, and waited for a break between tracks to call out at the top of my voice "Scott!".
The volume immediately halved and a few seconds later, Scott opened our door and wandered in wearing just a pair of army fatigue boxers and dog tags.
"Yo bros!" he chuckled, and ducked to avoid the pillow Ty threw at his head.
"Akka Dakka is not music to wake up to, mate!" Ty admonished. "You've probably driven poor George away."
"Nah," Scott grinned. "He's up and in the kitchen already. Probably stage-diving off the kitchen bench!"
"What's with the military clobber?" I asked.
"Lachie gave me this stuff before he left," Scott replied pensively. "I thought it was gonna be weird wearing his undies but it's not. It makes me think about him all the time."
Silently I lifted the bed covers and Scott scurried over and jumped in. We talked for a while about Lachie, how much we all missed him, and pondered the special quality that makes young Australian men -- or any men for that matter -- choose the battlefield as their workplace.
Our discussion was interrupted by a tap on the door at 8.30, and George registered surprise when he saw the three of us sitting up in bed.
"I'll get another napkin and make your breakfast now, Scott," he said. "I thought once that awful music stopped, you'd gone back to bed."
"That's AC/DC, George" Scott laughed. "They rock!"
"Yes, Scott. They certainly `shook me all morning long'!" George smiled. "Breakfast won't be long."
Scott helped himself to whatever he could scavenge from our plates until George reappeared with an oversized bacon and egg sandwich.
Scott made quick work of his meal and was stretching his arms when Ty jumped from the bed and padded naked to the toilet. Scott and I chatted as he pissed and then he turned the shower on. We could hear him humming as he washed himself and a few minutes later, he walked back into the room naked, his impressive meat swinging between his legs.
As he threw on his boxers and a tee shirt, he said "Sorry boys, just thought of a really good chord sequence and I've gotta write it down."
He disappeared in the direction of the music room, and I suggested that we both take showers and kick- start our day.
"Together?" Scott asked with a grin.
"You wish!" I guffawed, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. With that, he was up and out, and I took advantage of some alone time to have a long, relaxing shower. Dressed, I joined Ty in the music room and we discussed the plan for the day.
With hot weather ahead, we decided we'd gather mid-morning and resume our confab with Scott, carrying on through lunch if he was in the zone. Then in the afternoon, we agreed some time at the beach sounded like a good idea.
Always a step ahead of the game, George placed bowls of potato crisps, nuts, dips and carrot sticks on the lounge room coffee table with a carafe of water, glasses and -- a nice touch -- a box of tissues, before leaving us to our talk.
There was no hedging this time, as Ty got things underway by jumping in the deep end, picking up on yesterday's thread about guilt and shame, and reassuring his brother in the most loving way that he had nothing to be guilty about or ashamed of, and that as adults we're all free to make our choices.
He shared with Scott and me his own teenage struggle with his feelings, and how for several years he desperately tried to deny those feelings and live his life the way everyone expected him to. It was, we both learned, Lachie who finally sat down with him and said "you're gay aren't you?" Ty had got defensive and hostile, but Lachie had remained calm. "You're gay, Ty. You don't have to admit it to me, you have to admit it to you." Ty had started to cry and Lachie stood up and went to leave the room. "If you run away from who you are now, you'll be running for the rest of your life."
Those few words, Ty explained, had made a huge difference in his life. His brother knew his secret, and his brother still loved him. Maybe it wasn't all bad.
We all sat in silence for a few seconds, and I was concerned maybe Ty's words had changed the mood and that their thoughts would turn to Lachie and the dangers he faced every day.
"OK, that concludes this week's episode of My Secret Past'," I announced, and got smiles from both the guys. "Coming up next, Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Gay Sex But Didn't Know Who To Ask'. I am your moderator and I get to ask the first question."
"This oughta be good," Scott grinned.
"Scott, please tell the panel what male sexual experience you've had so far."
Scott laughed and shook his head. He repeated his earlier admission that his dalliances were pretty much limited to he and his mate Tommy Kennedy jacking off together, and one time another guy from his school named Chad stroked each other's cocks to orgasm.
"So you've never had a head job?" Ty asked earnestly.
"Not from a guy. And only a couple of times from girls, who weren't much chop. They always gagged."
"I know how they felt," I chuckled. "A Hill brother cock can be a bit of a challenge at first. So, Scott, question number two. What do you know of oral sex and anal sex?!"
"I know what they are," he said, almost defensively. Dropping his voice to an audible whisper, he added, "And I know how ass-fucking works because I've watched porn online. I just don't know what it feels like. And I don't know how you work out who's gonna be the girl and who's gonna be the boy ..."
Ty and I couldn't help laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"The girl and the boy?" I grinned. "Mate, when it's two guys, there ain't no girl. What you mean is who's the bottom' and who's the top'. And that means who does the fucking, and who gets fucked."
"Yeah, OK. But how do you work that out?"
"You'll know, mate," Ty explained. "You'll figure out what's right for you. And you don't have to be exclusively one or the other."
"Huh?" Scott shrugged. "What about you and Mike then? Who does who?"
As always when Ty was uncertain how to answer, he looked at me.
"We take it in turns, Scott," I smiled. "We're equal opportunity fuckers!"
"Too much information," he laughed. "Ever film yourselves?"
"I'm only taking sensible questions."
"OK, I saw in a video once where a guy had his face stuck in another guy's butt cheeks and he was licking it," Scott said, his face screwed up. "That was a bit gross."
I pondered for a moment. "In some ways, it's no different to a guy `going down' on a girl. When it happens between two guys, it's called rimming and the guy getting rimmed needs to make sure he's clean, if you know what I mean ..."
There ensued a lengthy discussion on every aspect of male on male sex; foreplay, frottage, mutual masturbation, and strong words on the necessity to play it safe, at least until a proper relationship is established.
With lunch only minutes away, I brought the discussion to a close with my advice to Scott that while I understood he was curious about anal sex and possibly itching to try it, it wasn't something he should rush into.
"Just let me say this, mate," I said. "It's something pretty special and incredibly intimate. Don't just give it away. Make sure you're ready and that you really feel something for your partner. There's plenty of other stuff that'll keep you and the other guy happy until the right moment comes along."
Scott grinned. "One more question?"
"Make it quick."
"Does it hurt?"
Ty and I looked at each other and laughed. "Yeah Scotty, the first time's gonna hurt," Ty chuckled. "It'll make your eyes water!"
Scott looked alarmed.
"The good news is, it's pretty fucking awesome when you get the hang of it!" I assured him.
As George carried a tray to the balcony table, I announced "That concludes our program for this week. Coming up next, our Movie Of The Week, `The Hill Brothers Eat Lunch And Hit The Beach'".
As they walked out to the balcony, Ty put his arm around Scott and said, "I've seen that movie. It's great. The older Hill brother meets this sexy guy called Mike at the beach and kidnaps him. He takes him back to his beachside shack and turns him into a sexual robot!"
As we sat down, I stretched out my arms like the robot in `Lost In Space' and boomed, "Warning! Warning! Alien approaching with food!"
The boys laughed and George deadpanned again. "Around here, I sometimes feel like I'm living on Mars."
Scott jumped in with, "You are on Mars, George! And Ty, Mike is in Uranus!"
Ty and I both turned to George, who was closest to Scott.
"Allow me, sir," he said, and reached out and smacked Scott across the back of the head.
Gourmet George had once again excelled, presenting us with simple but mouth-watering mushroom, goat's cheese, sundried tomato and mozzarella pizzas, a rocket salad with avocado, roasted hazelnut dressing and parmesan, and shoestring fries.
Over lunch, we talked about Scott's next move, now that his formal education was over. His parents, we knew, wanted him to go to University and he agreed, although he had no real idea of what course might suit him best. What he wanted, he explained, was a gap year. Twelve months off before knuckling down to serious study again. Ma and Pa Hill weren't so keen, apparently.
"Can you talk to them, Ty?" Scott asked hopefully.
"Yeah, mate, leave it with me," Ty replied. "They just want you to do well, so you don't have to have the kind of life they had. They were the same with me and Lachie. And look what happened with us! Number one son's a rock star and number two son is in the Army fighting the enemy. You're their only hope of a son with a `real' occupation."
"Yeah, I know," Scott shrugged. "I want to travel a bit, and that's gonna freak `em out."
"I'll take care of it, Scotty. Maybe I can send them off on a holiday. Shit, when was the last time they went away anywhere together?"
"I don't think they ever have. But whatever you do, don't let them talk you into sending them away with me!"
Lunch digested and sunscreen liberally applied, we grabbed some towels and hit the beach. We ripped off our tee shirts and hit the water, diving in and out of gentle waves, showing off, and knocking each other over as often as we could.
Returning to our towels, Scott suddenly asked, "Didn't you say this was a private beach?"
"Sure is," I replied.
"So why are we wearing swimmers? We could be skinny-dipping! And you could both get some colour on your lily white asses!"
With that, he unbuttoned and dropped his board shorts, and continued drying himself naked.
Ty and I looked at each other and shrugged; it had never occurred to us. We both lost our swimwear. We lay on our tummies to soak up some sun after sunscreen was applied to three bare asses. Ty and I did each other, and Ty then quickly rubbed cream into Scott's butt.
"This may be the last time I touch this virgin ass," Ty chuckled.
"I'm trying not to think about the fact you're even touching my ass," Scott shot back.
"Oh come on," Ty laughed. "I used to change your shitty nappies when you were a baby. I had to wipe your dirty ass and powder it too."
"That's even worse," Scott gasped. "I could go to the gossip rags. `My Rock Star Brother Molested Me'. It could be worth millions. Mike, you can represent me. I'll split the bucks with you."
"Tempting, mate," I said. "But I'm technically engaged as the defendant's lawyer so I couldn't represent the plaintiff too."
"We'll wipe the floor with him, Mike," Ty chimed in. "Blackmail, treason, malicious intent. They'll lock him up and throw away the key."
I smiled. "Look on the bright side, Scott. In prison, you'll meet someone called Bubba, and you'll get all the man sex you can handle!"
Ty suddenly stood up. "Come on, let's go swim again. The prison talk's making me horny. I need to cool down."
We splashed around for a while before making our way back to our towels. As the boys lay back on their towels, propped up on their elbows, my sunglasses disguised my unabashed sweep of the nude bodies of these two glorious specimens of manhood. Speaking of manhood, it hit me that their cocks were almost identical. I'd seen them separately, of course, but side by side, they were alarmingly similar.
Indeed, save for the difference in hair colour, their features could have been sculptured from the same mould.
My reverie was broken by giggles and I thought for a moment I'd been caught having a surreptitious perve. But no. I followed their eye line up the beach towards the house and I too started to laugh at the sight of George, dressed for afternoon tea, navigating the sand with his stick and picnic basket and trying not to look flustered at being confronted with three naked men.
We invited him to strip and join us, and guffawed as we watched him hightail it back to the house. God love him -- the cheese, grapes, fruit and cold drinks were perfectly timed. We soaked up a little more sun before wrapping our towels around our waists and returning to the house, and much-needed showers.
The intense heat of the day had dropped off and, with all the balcony doors open, a cool sea breeze swept through the house. Against a backdrop of Diana Krall's soothing vocals, Ty and Scott headed off to the billiards room to shoot some pool while George and I set about making the evening meal.
George was, as always, in full control, and had already gone to a lot of trouble to prepare some of the meal in advance, while we boys lay bare-ass on the beach doing a lot of fuck-all.
To one side was a plate what looked to be small, golden, pan-fried rissoles. "They look good, George," I enthused. "Rissoles?"
"Croquettes," George corrected. "I used the leftover asparagus risotto."
"I thought you'd thrown it out!"
"Growing up in the era I did sir, you learn never to throw anything away. They're just for appetizers when Mr Hill and Scott have finished their game. I made fig chutney too." He dropped his voice and added, "I had to use tinned figs, but that can be our secret!"
I smiled. On another plate was a mighty fine looking pear tart.
"I don't remember buying a tart base," I queried.
"You didn't, sir. I made it from scratch. Turned out rather well if I do say so. I'll be serving it with vanilla bean ice-cream."
"What can I help you with George?" I asked, as I poured us each a glass of wine.
"We have maybe an hour and a half before dinner. The starter will be pumpkin cannelloni with basil mayonnaise, and for the main, I think loin of lamb with a tomato and tarragon sauce, and dauphinoise potato?"
I laughed. "Seriously George, is that all?!"
"No sir," George replied. "We'll do steamed green beans with porcini butter as well. I know Mr Hill likes his greens."
With a tight timeframe ahead, we got to work. Because I always found cannelloni a challenge, George took care of the starter, while I prepared the lamb and potatoes, and once they were in the oven, I took my time with the sauce.
We were done within an hour and while the dishes cooked, George and I sat on the balcony off the kitchen, looking out to sea. A few minutes later, we were joined by Ty and Scott, who'd grabbed a beer each.
Scott excitedly told us he'd won both games of pool. "I Am The Greatest!" he boomed in his best Muhammed Ali voice, punching his fist in the air.
"I let him win," said Ty sheepishly, "to help with his low self-esteem ..."
"Yeah, right!" Scott chuckled. "Hey Mike, does he always have trouble getting it in the hole?"
"Shall I, sir?" George asked.
"Thanks George," I answered, as Scott got another slap on the back of the head on his way through to the main balcony.
The meal was amazing and I marveled at just how much food the Hill boys always managed to consume. Having worked their way through croquettes, pasta, lamb and all the trimmings, they both asked for second helpings of pear tart.
Over coffee, Scott talked about the car he would buy with the money Ty had given him for his birthday. He asked our opinion on a range of vehicles, many of them unsuitable for farm living.
"When you're back home, get Dad to take you around the car yards," Ty suggested. "He's got a pretty good eye for wheels."
"Or," I offered, "maybe you could ask Simon? He recently got his license so he's probably done the hard yards."
Ty looked surprised. "You mean the kid from the supermarket?"
"Yeah," I replied. "I'll do another week's shopping tomorrow and he'll be delivering it. I thought he could show Scott around the town, and maybe give him a driving lesson."
"Hey, ace!" Scott grinned. He seemed genuinely pleased with the suggestion.
Ty looked uncertain. "I guess so. Do we know anything about him though?"
"It's cool, Ty," I reassured him. "I've spoken to him a few times and he's a really nice kid. He's here on holiday with his folks and he's bored shitless. It'll be good for him to hang out with someone around his own age."
Ty shrugged. "If you say it's OK, then it's OK. You're always fucking right. I just hope this guy isn't just ... you know, trying to get to me."
Scott reacted tersely. "Fuck, Ty. This morning I thought you had a big cock, but it's nowhere near as big as your fucking ego!"
Ty was about to snap back when I jumped in with "Simon's OK, Ty. I'm a lawyer. I can pick an opportunist a mile away."
The talk returned to Ty's birthday gift to Scott -- an open cheque to buy his first car - and I was taken aback when Scott mentioned that he wouldn't be able to give Ty anything nearly so generous for his upcoming birthday. The realization that Ty and I had never mentioned our birthdays caught me by surprise.
"When's your birthday mate?" I asked.
"End of next week," Ty smiled.
"Thanks for telling me! Like I'm gonna find something suitable in this little backwater!"
"No sweat mate," Ty smiled. "Don't worry about buying me anything. Maybe make me a great big chocolate cake!"
"Yeah!" Scott chipped in. "With heaps of that vanilla bean ice cream. And we can wear party hats and play Pin The Tail On Mike!"
George reappeared and started clearing the table. "It's almost 9.30," he reminded us. "I believe you all wanted to watch `The Bourne Ultimatum' on the movie channel?"
Leaving George to his thankless task, we moved to the lounge room, spread out on the couches and flicked on the television.
Just before midnight, we were woken gently by George and sent us to our rooms like over-tired schoolboys.
In the morning, we stirred a few minutes before breakfast was due. Rolling on to our backs, our morning wood was obvious from the tents under the soft sheet covering us. Like naughty school boys we reached out and felt each other up.
"Pity to waste this!" I laughed.
Ty rolled on his side and nuzzled my ear. "You saying you want me to fuck your hot lawyer ass with my big fat rock star cock?" he smirked.
"You bet your bollocks I do, mate," I grinned back. "But not right now ..." and right on cue, George tapped on the door.
We lifted our knees to hide our arousal and bid George enter. He surprised us with a fruit platter and a plate of buttered English muffins instead of our usual poached eggs.
"Sorry Mr Stewart," he said. "We're out of eggs, and the fruit needs to be eaten. I know you're shopping today and I've made you a list."
Somewhere in the house we heard a toilet flush. "Looks like the beast is awake, George," I chuckled. "It'll want to be fed."
"Very good, sir," George replied. "I saved the last egg for his sandwich."
George and Scott passed in our bedroom doorway and Scott, dressed again in Lachie's fatigue boxers, made his way to our bed.
"How long since those undies have been washed?" Ty asked with a smile on his face.
"You don't want to know," Scott shot back.
Ty and I polished off our breakfast, save for the one English muffin that Scott managed to snaffle. We'd finished by the time George returned with Scott's breakfast and once he'd left, Ty announced he needed to take a leak. He rose from the bed, completely unfazed that his still swollen cock was pointing obscenely in front of him.
"Fuck, Ty," Scott groaned, his mouth full of sandwich. "That's disgusting!"
Ty laughed, and flexed it a couple of times.
"Actually Scott," I said. "It's a completely normal occurrence. It's called a `reflex erection' and it's stimulated by a full bladder. The nerves that control erections are located in the spinal cord and a full bladder stimulates nerves in the same area. Voila! Morning wood!"
Ty shook his head. "How do you know this shit?"
"Mate," I grinned. "I'm a lawyer. I know everything!"
Ty took his boner to the bathroom while Scott and I lay in bed. "I'm shopping this morning, mate," I said. "Anything you want?"
"Can I go with you?" he asked hopefully. I knew where this was heading.
"No, I'm good," I said. "I was kinda hoping you might help George clean up and do the washing. You can chuck all your stuff in too, including those boxers!"
"Alright," he sighed. "What time will Simon be coming?"
"He finishes at two," I replied, "so sometime around then, I guess."
Ty emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"How about you go shower, mate," I said to Scott. "George is gonna want to start his chores pretty soon."
Scott made for the door, mumbling something about this being `just like home'.
"You got him doing chores?" Ty asked in amazement. "Up til now he's believed Manual Labor is a former President of Spain!"
I hit the shower and got dressed, and by the time I was in the lounge Ty was sitting at the piano in the music room and Scott and George were carting loads of dirty clothes to the laundry. I called out I was leaving, and headed for town.
Reading through George's shopping list as I walked down the gourmet food aisle, I realised that this lot was going to cost a king's ransom. But given George's surprisingly expert culinary skills, I figured it would be worth every cent.
I made my way around the store, mentally checking most of the items off the list. There'd be a few things I'd have to get at the deli, and of course, the local fresh seafood store was another obligatory stop.
I hadn't seen Simon the whole time I was there and started to wonder whether he mightn't be working, when I heard a page for "Simon Miller". I never thought to ask him his surname; was that him? A few moments later, I saw him walking to the service counter and speaking with a customer. He turned around and I waved, and he quickly joined me.
"Hey mate," I said, nodding to my almost-full trolley. "This is gonna end up a big load ..."
Simon grinned. "I'll assume you mean the groceries, Mike!"
I grinned. I like this guy!
I made my way to the checkout and paid for the shopping, grateful my credit card didn't burst into flames. I filled out the form for home delivery and wrote `Simon Miller to deliver'.
After stopping off for the extra items, I was driving home and chuckled when the local radio station I was listening to played Ty's "Deep Inside Of Me". Exactly where I wanted him!
Back home, I helped George unpack the groceries and, while Ty was back banging on the piano and singing random notes, I grabbed the paper and headed for the balcony.
George brought me a tea as I flipped through the headlines and caught up with what was happening in the outside world. I was scanning the entertainment pages when my eyes fell to a column item about Leonard Cohen. He was back in Australia apparently, not for concerts but to promote his latest in-concert DVD. He was playing private showcases around Australia for the media and was in Brisbane ... next Friday! I was about to call out to Ty and let him know, but I had a light bulb moment. Yes, yes, yes!
Sometime in the half hour after two, the doorbell rang and before I could even get off the couch and answer it, Scott was welcoming Simon inside. I arrived in time to be able to lamely say, "Hey Simon, this is Scott", but by then they'd already shaken hands.
Scott helped Simon with the multiple boxes of groceries, both of them stacking them in the kitchen. George and I made ourselves scarce on the kitchen balcony while the two boys put everything away. They were too caught up in their `getting to know you' routine to be bothered with what they were doing.
"We'll reorganize the pantry shelves later," George reassured me.
I timed my reappearance in the kitchen on a pretext of fetching a beer, and Ty picked the same moment to make his entrance.
"Simon," I said, to save them an awkward moment. "This is Tyson, Scott's brother".
The two shook hands and Simon looked sheepish. "I really love your CD, Tyson," he said. "I've been playing it for months."
"Thanks mate," Ty said. "Nice to meet you."
Another awkward moment.
"Anyone for tea?" George offered chirpily.
"No thanks George," Scott said. "Simon's going to give me a driving lesson."
Ty was about to say something but held back when Simon held up two `L' plates. "It's pretty quiet around here on Saturday afternoons," he said. "We'll just drive around town a bit."
"OK," Ty said, cautiously. "How long will you be?"
Scott looked at Simon. "I don't know. Maybe a couple of hours?"
"Call me if it's going to be any longer."
Scott looked at Simon and rolled his eyes. "Genetically, he's my brother, but legally he thinks he's my mother!"
Lest Ty lose his cool, I steered both boys towards the front door. "Go," I said, "have fun."
Fate seemed to have dealt Ty and me a two-hour window and I was just about the make an indecent proposal when his phone rang. It was Monique, his publicist, calling with a head's up that he was featured on the cover of `FMH' men's magazine coming out in a week or so. He seemed chuffed that their story was "How To Get A Body Like Tyson Hill".
No sooner had his call from Monique ended than his mobile rang again. This time, Ma Hill, and I noticed Ty's body slump; he knew he was in for the long haul. I didn't need to hear the whole conversation, I knew from Ty's response that he was jumping through the same hoops.
Yes, Scott was safe. No, Scott wasn't drinking alcohol. Yes, Ty was eating properly. No, he didn't know that `Dolly' magazine had a pin-up of him in their latest issue. Yes, he'd make sure Scott didn't spend too much time in the sun, and yes, he knew about skin cancer.
I was lying back on a balcony deckchair enjoying Ty's discomfort when my mobile suddenly rang.
"Hey Vince," I said, surprised it had been at least a fortnight since I'd heard his voice.
"Hi Mike. I was trying to get Ty but his mobile's going to message bank."
"He's talking to his Mum," I laughed. "She worried about Scott."
"Why's she worried about Scott? Isn't he in Stanthorpe?"
"No, he's actually here with us."
I went on to explain the circumstances of Scott's visit, and guffawed at Vince's response.
"Fuck," he laughed. "It's contagious. I've gotta make sure I stay away from you two!"
"There's no escape, Vince," I chortled. "We'll make a faggot of you sooner or later."
Vince went on to say he'd received artwork for Ty's new album, which had now been mastered in Sydney. He'd be sending the files to Ty's email address and wanted the `thumbs up' as soon as possible.
"There's no title for the album yet, but the record company wants to name it after the first track, `The Close Of The Day'. See what Ty thinks."
"Leave it with me, mate!" I said. "I'll get him to call you. How's Miss `Can't Sing A Note'?"
"Tight, mate," he chuckled. "Very tight! And very grateful for everything Uncle Vince is trying to do to help her career. Very, very grateful indeed ..."
"Eww," I chuckled. "Straight people are disgusting."
"See ya Mike! Get Ty to call me."
Ty was still reassuring his Mother that everything was fine and that Scott in no moral danger, when Vince and I ended our call. I listened as he carefully steered the conversation to Scott's hope of a `gap year' before starting at university. There was lot of "I know Mum, but ..", "Nearly all kids have a year ..." and "Travel will do him good ...".
When I heard Ty say "Mum, let me talk to Dad ..." I took advantage of his distraction to wander on to the balcony and call Monique.
"Mike, how are you?" was her first response.
"Great thanks Monique. Just a quick question. It's Ty's birthday next weekend and I saw in the papers that Leonard Cohen's doing a DVD launch for the media in Brisbane on Friday. How do you think I can go about getting a signed copy for Ty, as a birthday present?"
"Are you with him in Queensland?"
Oops. Hadn't thought this one through. "Yes," I said confidently. "He's got Scott staying with him and I had some business in Brisbane, so I decided to tag a couple of days on the end of that to drop in and say hi."
"Cool. Cohen's with Warner Music and I know the guy who does their Brisbane PR. I'll see what I can do. Shouldn't be a problem."
By the time Ty had finished talking to his parents, more than two hours had passed, and he looked stressed.
"Hard work?" I grinned when he joined me on the balcony.
"Yeah, they do my head in!" he groaned. "I know where they're coming from, but fuck, I swear they think Scotty's 12. I need a beer."
I jumped up and grabbed two beers from the kitchen and, as I walked back to the balcony, Ty was picking up his phone.
"Who you calling?" I asked.
"Scott!" he said, tight-lipped. "It's been more than two hours and the little fucker said he'd call if he was going to be any longer ..."
I reached over and swiped the phone from his hand. "If I can quote a wise man, he's not 12 years old!" I smiled. "Let him be. He's having fun. You'll embarrass him in front of Simon if you call him."
Ty slumped in his chair. "You're right. But I'm responsible for him, and he said he'd call."
"Just leave it, mate," I said. "If he's longer than three hours, we'll just take him aside when they get back and bash the crap out of him!"
Ty chuckled, and we both jumped when his phone rang.
"Scott!" he announced when he saw the name display.
"Let me take it," I said, and Ty meekly handed the phone to me.
"Hey Scott," I answered. "What's up?"
Ty watched expectantly as I said "uh-huh" and "yep" a few times, before ending with "Yeah, that's fine. Just remember that George is making dinner so don't be any later than 6. OK mate, have fun ..."
I disconnected the call and Ty looked at me questioningly.
"OK," I smiled. "First, he said sorry he didn't call earlier, but he lost track of time. He's had a great time driving around the town and up through the hinterland. And now, because they're hot, they're gonna drive back here and go for a swim."
"On our beach?" he exclaimed. "Does that mean they'll be naked?"
I tried to stay cool. "Maybe, maybe not," I sighed. "Ty, they're both adults. They can do what they like. You've gotta stop being so protective."
Ty slumped back in his chair again. He seemed broody.
"Vince called," I said, hoping to change the subject.
"He called you?"
"He tried you, but your phone was engaged for so long. He'll be sending the artwork files for the new album cover and booklet. The record company wants to call it `The Close Of The Day'."
"Fuck," Ty groaned. "Another song title. That's original. I've thought about it and I want to call it just `Tyson Hill'."
"Um, that's really original too!" I smiled. "It might be good to have a couple of options up your sleeve, just in case!"
For the next half hour, over another beer, we put together a list of album title possibilities. Ty needed to take a leak and disappeared to the bathroom. He returned to the balcony, but instead of sitting down again, he stood looking out across the private beach.
"Fuck me!" he exclaimed. "Are they kissing?"
I jumped up and joined him and sure enough, in the distance, I saw Scott and Simon, lying on the sand on their sides, facing each other. They we were wearing shorts at least, and yes, it's possible they were kissing.
Thankfully, George chose that moment to appear with two more beers.
"They're just talking, Mr Hill," George said reassuringly. "They're getting to know each other. It'll be fine, you'll see."
Ty looked relieved. "You really think so, George?" he asked.
"At their age, they're easy to read sir," he smiled. "Open books. And theirs has the beginnings of a romance novel. A bit like you and Mr Stewart really, only the two of you are a long way past the first awkward chapter."
George disappeared, and Ty turned to me looking sheepish. "Sorry Mike," he said. "It's just I promised Mum and Dad I'd always look out for him ..."
I smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. "You do look out for him. But he's 18 now and he's trying to take charge of his own life. You've just gotta loosen the reins a bit."
I could see Ty mulling over the wisdom of those words.
"Speaking of reins makes me think of riding," I half whispered. "The boys will be at the beach for at least an hour I reckon. Fancy a ride?"
Ty smirked. "What are you suggesting Mr Stewart?"
"I'm suggesting, Mr Hill," I replied, "that you fuck my hot lawyer ass with your big rock star cock!"
"Let's go!" he said, leading the way to our bedroom. As we passed the kitchen, I called out, "Ty and I are taking a nap, George."
"Yes, sir," came the reply. "Of course you are!"
Inside our room, we quickly stripped and slipped beneath the cool white top sheet. Lying on our sides, Ty slipped into my embrace and we kissed. As always, it was a kiss that stretched the gap between lust and love. A kiss that made my body go limp. I could feel everything Ty was feeling, everything he was telling me with just his lips.
A lack of breath finally forced us apart, and I opened my eyes to see that goofy grin I loved so much. I slipped my hand down Ty's chest and stomach, and wrapped it around his pulsing cock.
"What do we have here?" I smirked.
"It's my big rock star cock," he boasted.
"You sure? Feels more like a baseball bat to me!"
"Hey, I love baseball. And I'm looking forward to charging the mound! ..."
I grinned and started to sing, very badly ... "Here's to you Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns its hungry ass to you ... woo, woo, woo ..."
Ty groaned and clamped his hand over my mouth. "Don't sing mate!" he laughed. "I love you, but please don't sing!"
"Well you'd better fuck me then ..."
"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you alright," he panted, rolling me on to my back and lifting my legs back against my chest. Ty positioned himself between my legs, gave me one last goofy grin and then buried his beautiful face between my ass cheeks, lapping at my hole like he would if he was confronted with a quickly melting ice cream cone. I moaned and mewed while his tongue and lips worked their magic, my hands resting on the top of his head, fingers running through his soft curls.
Each time he slipped his tongue inside me, I clutched at his hair. I'm sure it hurt him, but he reacted by pushing further inside me. I'm sure he'd have happily lapped forever but I was already dangerously close to `la petite mort'; another minute and things would get messy.
Ty instinctively knew I was ready. He pulled his face away, moved up between legs and lay above me, resting his upper body on his elbows. With Ty, one of the most erotic moments of our love-making was those few seconds before he penetrated me, when his eyes bored into my own. The eyes are the windows of the soul and in his, I could see the love he felt for me.
"I love you" he whispered, before kissing my lips and sliding the precum coated tip of his cock into my ass. I instinctively relaxed my sphincter and still holding my gaze, he slid fully inside me, holding deadly still as we both enjoyed his conquest.
Gently, Ty lifted himself to rest on the palms of his hands, pushed into me a little more and I felt his weighty balls against my butt crack. I felt joy at being so filled by him, and part of me could have stayed suspended in the moment forever. But another part of me wanted more.
"Fuck me," I whispered, gently biting his bottom lip.
I was surprised when he pulled back until only the flared head of his cock was inside me, but he suddenly thrust into me hard, jolting me and pushing my pleasure buttons at the same time. I groaned. He pulled back and pushed in again, once, twice, three times. He established our familiar rhythm and, now that I had acclimatized to his length and girth, I started to work my ass muscles around his cock. It was his turn to groan, although his pleasure registered more as a gurgle. I reached up and pulled him down to me and kissed him fiercely.
"Don't spare the rod," I panted, and without missing a beat, he started thrusting again, slowly as first but quickly picking up speed. Every few strokes, he pulled out almost all the way before pounding himself back into me until he bottomed out. While he moaned his pleasure, I was reduced to a series of erotic whimpers.
He fucked his cock into my eager ass faster and faster until my whimpering turned into a long, sustained growl, cut short only when Ty leaned down and kissed me again, his tongue plunging in and out of my mouth in sync with his cock.
He broke the kiss, grabbed my shoulders and rested his head next to mine on the pillow, and started to piston in and out of my well lubricated opening. The slow build in my balls made me feel lightheaded, and his jack-hammering sperm-spitter was punishing my prostate to the point where it was about to give up the fight.
I was lost in a sweaty frenzy, captive to my imminent orgasm and as Ty's rampant cock swelled inside me he reached down, took my cock in his fist and stroked twice. For me, it was all over, rover. I gasped and panted my way through an ejaculation so powerful that the first three spurts splattered my face and neck. As the jets kept coming, I started to laugh and the muscle contractions that caused carried Ty on his own tidal wave.
Burying himself in me as deep as he could, he suddenly froze, threw back his head and let out an animalistic howl. "I'm ... ahhhh," was all he managed before his cock started pulsing inside me and I was flooded with the warmth of his love liquor. I absent-mindedly counted eight strong spurts as they hit their target, before the onslaught subsided.
Ty collapsed on my chest, his half-hard penis still buried inside me. Completely spent, he lay on me struggling to catch his breath. He finally slipped out and I was aware of a rush of semen leaking on to the sheet beneath us.
I held him in my arms, enjoying the intense meld of love and sexual satisfaction that swept over me. Ty's breathing gradually returned to normal and with one last soft moan, he rolled off me and onto his back. He wiped his brow and then shifted slightly, to rest his head on my chest. I kissed the top of his head and my hand ran up and down his back.
He lay silently for a few moments, a satisfied smile on his face, before turning his face towards mine and whispering "That was amazing!"
I laughed softly. "You're telling me! You do incredible things with that thing!"
To piss him off, I started to sing again ... "Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes ..."
I didn't get to the bit about cupcakes before he clamped his hand over my mouth again. "I warned you," he vowed. "Don't ever sing. If you sing, I'll have to kill you ..."
I was about to respond when a short rap on the door preceded the announcement, "It's George, sir..."
"Yes George," I called back.
"I'm just letting you know that young Scott and his friend are walking back towards the house."
"God, thanks George," I replied.
We both leapt from the bed and started to dress. I walked into the bathroom and returned with a bottle of Viktor & Rolf's Antidote. "We both reek of cum," I smirked as I sprayed Ty and then myself.
"So much for a post-coital nap!" Ty sighed.
"Mate, you can go back to bed if you like," I suggested. "No reason for you to be up."
"Nah, but thanks mate," Ty smiled. "I should be polite and say goodbye to Stephen."
"It's Simon, Ty," I said, rolling my eyes. "His name is Simon."
"In `Jesus Christ Superstar', Simon tried to convince Jesus to attack the Romans, so I'd be keeping an eye on him if I were you," Ty grumbled.
"True," I replied patiently. "But the Catholic Church sees the Apostle Simon as a Saint. He was the bridegroom at the wedding when Christ turned the water into wine."
"If he was a Saint, he wouldn't be trying to get into my brother's pants."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Take it up with the Pope," I smirked as I headed for the lounge.
I was mulling over the evening meal, not knowing that as the following days unfolded, there were watershed moments ahead in the lives of the oldest and youngest Hill brothers ...
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