The following is a fictional story involving fictional characters from the television series "Home Improvement." It is intended for the entertainment of consenting adults in the privacy of their homes, and if you object to or offended by descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults, do not read any further. The sexual orientation and practices depicted in this story do not in any way suggest or reflect the actions or orientations of the characters or the actors who portray these characters.
The phrases Home Improvement, Tooltime & Binford, and all characters are trademarks of and copyright The Walt Disney Company, Touchstone Television and Wind Dancer Production Group.
I want to make something perfectly clear; this is an erotica series. I did not write this to be a quick porn story, or any other cheap form of entertainment. Some installments will be mostly dialogue and scene setting, others will be filled with hot man sex. If you are not interested in reading the actual story, then just skim ahead to the "good parts-" but know you are missing a lot of intrigue and realistic plot lines. Well, that is to say, I have attempted to keep the plot line relatively true to the TV series and reality in general. Anyway... enjoy!
Tool-Men By PsychoPuppy
Part 6:
Saved by the Bell
The sun rose early over Michigan that morning, its piercing rays casting aside the ebony shroud of night. Signs of life stirred below the yawning horizon as people awoke to collect the morning paper, throw back the bedroom curtains, and greet the day. Not everyone was so eager to leave bed, however.
"Randy, just relax man... its Saturday." Brad sighed as Randy tossed off the covers and started out of bed.
It had been a week since Randy saw, or thought he saw, his Dad watching him and Brad getting off together. Things had been really strange in days which followed; first with Tim putting locks on all their bedroom doors, and now with Brad taking a much more active roll in their sex life. Things were growing intense, and yet there was still something about the whole situation that Randy could not quite put his finger on. It felt like someone had their hand on his shoulder but when he looked no one was there. He knew he loved his brother, and his dad, and his mom was bearable... but still. `What the hell is this feeling?' Randy wondered from the thousandth time. Quickly he slipped on a pair of loose boxers before turning to quietly open his bedroom door.
"Relax dude, I'm just going to get some juice and take a piss." He said with a wink.
"Get me some too!" the older boy called as he snuggled deeper into the warm blankets of Randy's bed.
"Oh, okay, open your mouth!" Randy grinned as he dropped the front of his boxers to reveal his half-hard prick. Brad tossed a pillow at him.
The hallway was quiet in the dim morning light, the lone window at its end capturing specks of dust in the suns thin rays. Each grain sparkled like a suspended star, leading Randy down the hall to the bathroom opposite his parent's bedroom. After a much satisfying piss, he headed to the kitchen for a couple glasses of OJ. The house was still and peaceful, allowing the Taylor lad to hear every sound as if it were whispered in his ear. Light breathing emanated from the couch that rested directly in front of the large home entertainment system in the living room. Its back blocked view of the occupant. `Weird...' Randy thought, handling the two glasses as he slowly walked over to get a better look. Tim was lying on his back atop the black leather cushions, with only a pillow propped against the arm to support his head. A loose pare of boxer shorts covered his crotch, yet left little to the imagination as his nocturnal movements had caused them to bunch and ride upwards, dropping his fuzzy nuts from the right leg hole.
Randy's breath caught in his throat as he looked down at his sleeping father. The mans body was incredible, the exact type of body Randy so desperately longed to have. He was far from disgruntled with the form he was destined to wear, except for maybe its height, but looking down at the man who has created him brought only feelings of awe. And something else. Tim's face was relaxed and contented, both cheeks and chin smattered by a thick growth of stubble. His hair was unkempt and rugged, while his furry chest and belly softly rose and fell with his deep rhythmic breathing. The breath of sleep. Tim's right arm was stretched back behind the pillow, exposing the coiled dark hair of his armpit, its massive growth twisting outwards. The glasses of juice shook visibly in Randy's hands as his eyes traveled down the fuzzy trail of his fathers belly to the loose elastic band of the boxers the older man wore. There was a bulge under the thin material, its hardness pressing through the fabric with an urgent strain. Either the man was having a very good dream, or he had overdosed on viagra. It looked about 6.5" and thick, as far as Randy could tell-- covered by the fabric as it was made picking out specific details difficult. Thick brown hair covered the Tool-Man's legs, running from his crotch all the way down to his ankles, yet it was at his crotch where Randy's eyes stopped and bulged. His dad's heavy, big balls were resting just below the right leg hole of his boxer shorts, dangling down the inside of his hairy leg and sitting on the couch cushion. They were huge, egg-sized nuts of man power, each one slowly moving in time with Tim's breathing as if they had a mind of their own. It was amazing, staring at the life sprouting pods which had cradled Randy before he was even a glimmer in the mans eye.
"Hey! Where's the OJ?" Brad called quietly as he came bounding into the dining room opposite the kitchen and behind the couch, "Randy...?" his words trailed off as Randy quickly mouthed "SHUT UP!" at him.
"Dude, be quiet and come here..." Randy hissed, making an eerie impression of his mother when she tried to be quiet yet commanding.
Brad walked slowly over to stand behind Randy, both boys dressed only in thin boxer shorts. He gasped as he looked down at the sight before him, at the nearly naked form of his own father. How manly the older man appeared... how much Brad loved him and wanted to look just like him. OhMyGod.' Brad thought in a deep corner of his mind, Oh... my... God.'
After a few moments of filling their eyes with the scene of the all-but-naked Tool-Man, both boys returned to Randy's room. Neither said a word along the way, yet both felt the growing bulge in their own shorts.
"Um hum, Um hum, Um hum..." Wilson muttered to himself as he watched the two Taylor boys retreat from the living room into the recesses of the house. From over the fence he had a clear view of the Taylor's living room, as the entire lower back side of their house was made of glass panels. Wilson supposed that the family felt it was more secure that way, so he could keep an eye on the boys when neither parent was home. But it also allowed him the occasional glimpse of life in the house he most certainly was never meant to see. Both boys had stood watching their sleeping farther for a couple minutes, neither talking, just watching. From where he stood Wilson had a rather clear view of Tim's sleeping body and knew exactly what the lads had been looking at. It was the same thing he had been admiring himself just a few minutes before Randy had first entered.
Now both boys were gone, back off to their respective bedrooms no doubt, and he was left to look down at Tim alone. Only his stiff pecker kept him company.
Randy's bedroom door closed with a soft `click' as he locked it, turning back to Brad who was already stripping off his boxers as he sat on the bed. Moving over to join him, Randy placed the two glasses of OJ on his table and drew a deep breath. Brad's semi-hard cock fell loose of its confines at the same time Randy unleashed his own monster.
"I hope I look like dad when I get older." Brad grinned as he leaned back on the bed, patting the soft area beside him with a strong hand.
"Ya, I hope we both do. He has a great beard, eh?"
"MMmm, ya." Brad replied as he ran a hand down the side of his cheek. The stubble was still spindly, but growing thicker every day. True; he only needed to shave once a week, but each time he did he could not help but get a boner.
Randy slowly turned to regard his naked brother and smiled, `Did you see his nuts? Man, those things are like, huge!"
"Ya!" Chuckled Brad, glad that his brother had broken the ice on what they had both witnessed, `They were like a couple monster lug nuts.'
Both boys laughed softly, comparing their father's balls to the nuts he used on the car. After a moment, silence filled the area where the laughter had died, leaving the siblings to stare idly around at the room.
"His dick looked..." Randy started with an impish grin, but then stopped short, realizing the line which was about to be crossed. Joking about their fathers big balls, which had been out in plain view, was one thing... but talking about his dick was another. Brad, however, didn't see the line at all-- or he simply ignored it.
"Ya man, that thing looked big. Hell, I bet it was 7 inches, and thick as a tail pipe." Brad said as he held his hands a foot apart to emphasize his estimates.
After a moment, Randy eased up and snickered, pressing Brad's hands a little closer for a sense of realism. "I think that's more about right, Brad." He chuckled again as Brad looked down at the new length displayed between his sweaty palms.
"Hell, that's still a whopper." Brad replied, turning to look at Randy who was staring intently at him. "And you know," he added, suddenly slipping into an imitation of his father "If there's one thing the Taylor men know about, its how to use their Tools!" With that, Brad reached over and cupped Randy's low hanging balls with his right hand.
"Really, "dad?"' His bother replied, reaching over and grabbing the thick tool which jutted from this own crotch, "Will ya teach me how to keep it clean?"
"Sure "son," you just have to remember to wash it with Binford Tool Polish twice a day..." Brad whispered back, shifting on the bed to put his face only inches from Randy's hard cock, "That, or let someone else polish it."
Randy gasped as Brad lowered his head down and began licking the tip of his rigged cock. It had been a few days since the shadow of his father had appeared at Brad's bedroom door, and Randy was really beginning to think it has just been his imagination. But after today, seeing his dad nearly naked, he was not so sure. Deep down, he knew that he did not want it to have been his imagination.
"Wow, oh man..." Randy gasped as he leaned back on a pillow propped up against his wall. Brad's mouth coated the head of his dick with sloppy kisses, lubricating the mushroom tip with slick saliva. Clear droplets of Randy's boy-cream began to flow
moments later, covering his shaft with the clean tasting precum. Brad poked the piss slit with his hard tongue while sucking Randy off, adding more and more pressure to the vacuum of his mouth. The younger boy shook as he ran his fingers through the hair on Brads head, finally gripping his neck and shoulders for support as Brad's sucking increased. Slowly, ever so gently, the older Taylor lad lowered his bobbing head down on the fleshy tool of his little brother, until finally his nose rested in the thick pubic bush at its very base. Randy quivered and shook, his legs kicking in slow motion like a swimmer out of water, as he looked down at the spectacle between his legs.
Brad maneuvered the stiff prick around his mouth with expert still. Well, maybe not "expert," per say, but more skill then he had ever displayed before. With his hot tongue Brad managed to probe and tease the gaping slit in Randy's dick, provoking it to respond with drop after drop of thick precum. The flavor of his little brothers sex juice made Brad as crazy as a dog in heat, forcing him to give all he had to the act, focusing every ounce of concentration to his mouth. His right hand still held Randy's balls, which now quivered almost as much as the rest of his body. Brads squeezed the low hangers, clanking them together in the skin sack like a couple of big marbles. With the index finger of his left hand Brad started to massage Randy's inner thighs, working slowly upwards to grope the boy's supple round ass. It was lightly furred, Brad noted in the back of his mind, and he roughly began bucking his fingers along the smooth crack. One of his fingers brushed Randy's little pink asshole, causing the boy to gasp loudly and clench the back of Brads neck.
"OhGodYaOfGodYa..." Randy panted, "Keep doing that... right there... ya...MMmmmm"
Brad moved the index finger of his left hand over Randy's asshole again, and left it there, pushing slightly. Randy's hips began to involuntarily buck, riding his brothers sucking face while thrusting his thick prick in and out of the older boy's throat. Brad loved it, and pushed harder. The sloppy lather of Brad's saliva and Randy's precum dripped down the boys tender balls and filled his opened crack, coating the rose bud of his hole with its slick moisture. Without thought, Brad rubbed his finger along the fluid, and began easing it into his little brother's butt.
"OhHHhhhhhh..." Randy sighed, feeling Brad's thick digit move pass his sphincter and press into his cavernous ass. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever experienced; both erotic and filling at the same time. The need to push out this foreign invader was overwhelming, but as it thrust back in, despite his clenching muscles, it was beyond description. >From behind his closed eyelids, Randy's pupils dilated, lights flashed through his dark mind, and only the sound of his brother sucking filled his hears. It drowned out his heart beat which thundered in his chest, it muted the sound of his ragged breathing, the gasps for oxygen growing deeper and deeper. His hands worked mechanically around Brads head and shoulders, pulling the head closer to his burning crotch, needing to feel the older boy against his vulnerable flesh. To love him.
Brad's lips were going numb as the feeling of Randy's thick dick filled him. It was brushing past his tonsils with each withdraw, and thrusting over his wagging tongue with each intake. There was a rhythm now, his finger ramming in and out of the young boy while his mouth moved over Randy's hard shaft like a well oiled piston in his dads car. Oh man... dad.' Brad thought suddenly as he felt Randy pushing his head down hard to the young crotch, flooding his lungs with the sent of his siblings musky sex. Dad looked so good. Man I wanna look like him when I get older. Dude, I wonder how often he jerks off...?'
Tim groaned softly as he sat up on the couch. The rough nights sleep has pinned his back against the leather cushions in an uncomfortable position, making his lower back ache while promising continued pain through out the day. He rubbed at his back as the memory of the previous night mocked the discomfort. He had just got comfortable in bed after a hard day of work when Jill rolled over and started fondling his chest. God he hated when she did that; her bony little fingers always twisted his thick chest hair the wrong way, usually pulling out more then she was able to brush out of place. Feeling way too tired to do anything sexual, even had he wanted to, Tim cleverly pretended to be asleep. That's when the nagging began. "Damn it Tim, you never want to do anything with me." "What's wrong with you? Don't you think I'm pretty anymore?" "Tim! Tim wake up!" And on it went until finally her drilling voice forced him form his own bed and banished the tired Tool-Man to the couch. The lumpy couch. Bitch.
The digital clock atop the TV read 6:20am, but since it was a Saturday Tim was in no hurry to be up. Obviously Jill was still asleep, so there was no point in being hasty about starting the day. With a low grunt Tim scratched at his ball, which he just noticed were dangling from his boxer shorts. Back you go boys...' he though as he stood, shifting his thin boxers into their normal position. His boner had deflated slightly and was now only half hard. A sudden motion out of the corner of his eye caught Tim's attention and he turned toward the back yard, catching a glimpse of something moving behind the wide fence. Probably Wilson,' he though as he turned to lumber back up stairs, his full bladder begging to take a major piss. `That guy is always up to something.'
Passing by Brad's bedroom door, Tim paused for a moment. Memories of what he had seen just a few nights before danced across his drowsy consciousness, inflating his semi hard boner with rushing blood. On an impulse, Tim reached out and gripped the new handle of Brad's bedroom door and gave a gentle turn. He had no fear of it making a sound, nor of the door hinges, as he had used nearly half a can of WD40 while installing the new knobs. It twisted easily and he pushed, opening the door just a crack. Tim drew a deep breath as he paused and listened. Nothing. There was no sound of breathing, and more importantly, no sound of movement. `That's weird...' he thought while softly closing the door.
A few feet down the hall Tim paused at Randy's room and listened. Muffled sounds emanated from the crack in the frame, its well oiled joints making not a squeak as Tim leaned against the door. `Bingo' the older man thought as he heard the sure sounds of groaning and heavy breathing. "Oh... ya...mmmmm..." Randy whimpered, reviving the Tool-Man's morning woody to full life. With a shaking hand Tim grasped the bronze door knob and gave it a slow turn, yet was forced to stop by the sturdy lock. He had hidden the keys for each door in his nightstand, which unfortunately was in the same room as Jill.
`Best not to tempt fate.' Tim sighed softly as he pressed his ear against the door and closed his eyes. In a few moments his mind fabricated the scene taking place only feet from where he stood... completed by the real sounds which filled his straining ears.
Brad went all the way down on Randy's hot rod, pressing the thick helmet into the depths of his throat even as his lower teeth dug into the soft pink flesh at the cock's base. His cheeks were hollowed out, his mouth a vacuum which would put the density of space to shame, and his eyes watered at the scent of musk and fuck juice. Below the younger boys twitching balls Brad's thick middle finger slipped in and out of his tight butt, the skin rubbed raw with friction despite the generous amount of hot saliva and precum which coated its puckered girth. Randy was moaning softly now, gasping `ya... oh ya...' Like some perverse mantra. He was not going to be able to hold out much longer.
Drawing on his final reserves of energy, Brad drew his middle finger from the lads horny hole and forced it back in, pared with his index. The younger boy gave a violent jerk, thrusting his prick deeper past Brad's sore lips and making him gag softly. With the dwindling power of his right arm, Brad moved the fingers back and forth across the bulbous prostate which pulsed in time with the leaking cock in his mouth.
oh man...' a soft voice whispered in the back of his mind, it wont be long now...'
It was like riding ecstasy, like bathing in joy, it felt like he was drowning in bliss. Brad's mouth provided only one of the new sensations Randy's brain was trying do desperately to process, while the other came from his butt. Brad had never fingered him before, but at that moment Randy could not believe they had been afraid to try it. The feelings of the thick finger smacking in and out of him, with Brad's strong arm hitting his balls with each thrust, felt more fulfilling then anything. But now the older boy had added something new, something Randy could not begin to comprehend as the suction on his prick somehow increased. Brad's second finger produced a tight feeling all around his anus, the already tender skin stretched further beyond its boundaries. It was painful, but hurt so good. The sensation traveled from his ass, to his balls, up along the head of his dick, then rocketed straight into the lust-drenched areas of his mind. `Ohhhhhh Brad... oh... Ohhhhhh...' Randy gasped for the hundredth time as his hands pressed and squeezed his brother's shoulders.
With a muffled grunt, Brad jerked his forearm forward with force, driving his two thick fingers up in Randy's ass and smashing them into his prostate. Steadily he began wiggling each finger in an opposite direction, creating a dancing effect along the surface of the engorged fleshy mound. With his mouth Brad suckled like a starving calf, ignoring the protests of his weary lips and numb tongue. He whipped his head back and forth, moving it in to the very base of Randy's cock until his nose was mashed into the younger boys sloppy pubes. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. Brad had never felt more sexually alive, it was like Randy's fuck-lust was running in a circular current through his body and out his mouth, only to be returned again stronger then before. It was a current which could have mirrored the tide, magnified it, then shamed it to a still.
Randy wriggled under the final efforts of his big brother, every limb moving without conscious thought. Both his legs squirmed back and forth like a dancing frog in slow motion, his shoulders rotated and heaved in sync with his chest which gasped for breath. His soft pink lips were parted wide as his jaw hung slack, drool glistening in the corners from where the automatic function of swallowing had been washed away in a sea of erotic pleasure. Randy's eyes had glazed as his head jerked back, making a low `thunk' on the wall even as he began to gasp in loud, low grunts. No longer was his voice capable of the complicated task of speech, nor was his mind present enough to form words. He was his penis. Every ounce of his being was focused clearly on the nearly 6" column of flesh arching from between his furry little legs. The egg sized balls which rocked in his swinging nut sack ached against his body, his ass hole convulsed as spasms of pain and pleasure fought in the deep cavern of his love chout.
Brad's lips relaxed only slightly as the first jet of burning sperm coated the back of his throat with its acidic salty paste. Again and again in rapid succession two more bursts of boy cum filled his pleasure giving oral cavity, each one swallowed as greedily as the first. Randy's hips bucked hard into his face, heedless of the squeaking which the jerky motions caused the bed to echo aloud. The younger man thrashed back and forth, eyes wide in shock as gurgles of moans and grunts poured from his throat like a demonic possession. As Brad forced his head back, easing his suction to the very helmet of Randy's quivering cock, he took another mouth load of juicy cum, savored it, and proceeded to swallow in slow gulps. His fingers, still planted deep in the younger Taylor's horny ass picked up their pace as he withdrew and thrust them back in. They pounded hard against the boy's prostate, again and again, as Brad forced his brother to fuck his bare knuckles. The salty Tailor spunk kept flowing from Randy's dick, sloshing in Brad's mouth until he was forced to release some to wash over the boy's crotch and slither down to his bucking anus.
It felt as if is testicles had liquefied and ran screaming through his dick straight into Brad's mouth. It felt like he was fucking the center of whirlpool of molten steel, while being thrust back and forth on a donkeys cock. It felt like every erotic feeling he had ever had suddenly exploded through every pour on his body, calumniating in the head of his aching prick. Randy let the feelings wash him away, straight down Brad's tight throat with the rest of his cum.
Brad leaned back on his knees, looking at Randy who sat disjointed against the wall. The younger boy still gasped for air, pulling the funky oxygen into his lungs in labored heaving spasms. His eyes were still glazed as he stared off into space, looking beyond the ceiling as if able to see the very essence of heaven.
"Um... Randy?" Brad whispered, gasping for breath as he whipped the last drops of cum from his stretched lips. Man, my mouth feels funny...' he thought as he continued looking at his spent sibling, I hope it gets back to normal before breakfast.'
Randy slouched to the side, no longer possessing enough strength to keep upright.
"Okaaay...' Brad said, shaking his head as he lay down atop his brother, feeling the younger boy's rapid heartbeat through his heaving chest.
"Brad..." Randy whispered, "That was... I mean... I... I mean..." his voice wavered as he continued searching for the words to describe what had just happened.
Brad leaned on his elbows and looked into Randy's sweaty face. Hair matted the boy's forehead, his eyes were sill wide with awe, and his jaw hung slack. "I love you." Brad whispered after a short time.
Randy's wandering eyes snapped back into focus immediately, staring up into the blue depths of his older brother's steady gaze. "I love you too Brad."
Slowly Brad slipped out of bed, his hardon leading the way over to the bedroom door. "I gotta take a quick piss, then when I get back... you owe me one." Brad whispered as he turned to flash his sibling a sassy smile.
Tim furled his brow at the odd silence which had suddenly shrouded his sons bedroom. The groaning and moaning, muted as they were, had left no doubt that a man-sized orgasm had just ripped through one of his boys. Which boy was unclear, although he assumed it to have been Randy. The moans were not quite those of a man. Than again, he could be wrong. Pressing his ear closer to the door, Tim held his breath and waited until the count of five. Still no sound. On the count of fifteen he could still hear no movement, yet his cock remained ridged as a screwdriver. The front of his boxers was saturated with sticky, wet goo from the flood of precum which even now flowed from his tool. A sheen of sweat covered his flesh almost as if it were he who had been pleasuring Randy. The scent of sex drifted from his loins as the musky smell of his arousal lingered against the soggy fabric of his shorts. What was taking the boys? With a frown Tim turned toward the bathroom door across from his own bedroom and took a few steps. He froze as he heard the soft "click" of Randy's lock. Spinning on his heels the Tool-Man came face to face with Brad just as the youth stepped from the bedroom and into the shadowy hallway.
The breath caught in Tim's throat like a vice. His eyes widened as he looked straight into Brads shocked stare, the lad wearing an expression akin to a deer caught in the headlights of a sixteen wheeler. Time slowed to a crawl. Brad looked exhausted and stunk of cum and sweat, his face flushed and cheeks rosy red, like when he was a child after hours of ice skating. His hair was matted to his brow, while his lips looked parched and weary. Tim's eyes slowly looked down, past the glistening muscles and light chest hair, down past the boy's lightly furred belly, to the ridged cock which stood at full mass from a trimmed bush of light blond pubes. Brad's manhood stood a little more then six inches and was thick. Very thick. The bulbous glands were shiny from a flow of precum which even now leaked from the taught slit. Brad drew a shuddered breath. Tim's heart slowly pounded in his chest, as his own prick twitched uncontrollably in his moist boxer shorts.
"D...dad." Brad finally breathed, breaking the spells silence. "I was just... um... I was..."
`Sucking Randy off? Fucking my brother's tighty? Riding Randy's rod?' Tim thought as a sly smile spread across his lips. Quickly he repressed the grin. "Hot?" Tim asked suddenly.
Brad looked down at himself and made a quick move to hide his raging hardon, then gasped as he saw his dads own boner tenting the thin fabric of his shorts. "It's hot. Yes." Was all he could meekly reply.
"Its still pretty early kiddo," Tim said with a shrug, "Why not go back to sleep?"
With a dumb nod Brad turned and walked down to his own bedroom door, the sweat dripping from his back and running in small waves to his firm soccer ass. Tim watched the youth open his door, turn to flash an abashed grin, then depart.
The hall bathroom was located directly across the way from his master bedroom. Once the door was closed he dropped the sodden boxers to the floor and leaned back against the door. Peering into the mirror revealed the sight Brad had just been graced with; a tall man in his forty's, with a little padding, a ruggedly handsome face, dark hair which sprawled down his chest and belly, and of course the days old stubble. Not to mention one hell of a nice six and a half inch slab of all American man-meat.
"AAARRRrrrr AAARRRrrrrrr AAARRRrrr" Tim grunted softly as he leaned against the counter. Brads image played through his thoughts, along with the fabricated forms of his sons recent sexcapades. Exactly how far were the boys taking their love making? He had no way to be sure, either then to assume that it went far beyond jerking off. After all, he had seen Randy go down on Brad just a couple days past. It might be that they were loosening up with each other, and thinking about taking further steps. Tim was not sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he remembered the fun Marty and he had shared. On the other hand... their relationship now was strained at best. He still had not heard from his brother in regards to the proposed camping trip. Things were not looking good. Then again, there was the third hand... the tight ethereal fist which seemed to be constantly pulling at his cock now a days. Perhaps it was the scent of sex in the air, or the caught looks passed from Brad to Randy in the hallway or at the dinner table, but Tim was feeling especially... randy. Hum' he mused softly as he ran a knuckle hand down his furry chest, we named that one right.' "Brad" was Jill's choice in a first born son's name, and he could not scarce remember where "Randy" had come from. Oh well.
"Okay boy, I hear ya..." Tim whispered to his aching manhood as he took a seat on the cold porcelain throne. The day was beginning early and the sights of Brad still swam through his head, even more so now that the freedom of his nakedness was unleashed. He always liked to admire himself. It was like looking in a mirror through time, in many ways. He resembled so much of his own dad, as he had been at this age. He saw a lot of it in Marty too now that he looked back.
Before long his ridged manhood was slick with the oil of his loins, slipping his large fist up and down its thick shaft. He grunted softly while visions of Brad raced past his eyes, the sounds which broke through Randy's door still lingering in his ears. Scenes flashed like fever dreams, each one steamier then the next. First Brad sucked Randy hard, working his boy-tool with a hot pink mouth. Then he fucked him against the wall, kneeling behind as his pecker pocked the lads tight rosebud hole and made him squeal. They sixty-nined, they squirmed, then gasped and panted. Tim panted too, his breathing growing labored as his meaty daddy dick throbbed in his hand. He squeezed harder, the clear nut-paste coating the shiny cock head and urging him on. Suddenly the scenes shifted to a vintage show of Marty, naked, younger, spread and waiting. Spread and begging. Spread and grunting while his eighteen year old hips danced to and fro, bucking and grinding. The smell of his sweat and sex hit Tim like a brick to the head, drowning his lungs in its aroma. No rose could smell sweeter, no cock smell more manly. The scene shifted again and it was his dad atop him, mounting him, grunting deep in the back of his throat while Tim writhed underneath the furry mans solid bulk. He looked up into his dad's eyes, smelling the mans sweat and fuck funk, breathing deeply while held down by those powerful, loving arms.
Tim did not remember if he made a sound when the first blast of cum rocketed from his prick, but many minutes had lapsed since. Memory of the orgasm was fuzzy, like some dream quickly fading after a fitful sleep. All he could recall was the pleasure, the immense wave of pleasure, and the cum. The cum covered his hairy chest and soaked his neck. His face was smattered with the pungent goo as well, some covering even his lips. There was more cum over his chest and belly then he could ever have imagined flowing from a single living man. Even now it dripped from his limp cock. The digital clock read 7:36am. Had he passed out? Shaking his head slowly Tim stood and began to wash his hands. It felt as if he had just left a time warp.
Randy shifted in his messed bed, sighing softly as he ran a hand over his smooth stomach to play idly with his balls. Brad is soooo getting better at his.' He mused softly, recalling the sensations the older boy had wrought through his young form only minutes ago. I wonder what's keepin' the dolt.' Lazily Randy climbed out of bed and walked to his door, stepping over the pile of mingled clothes which still lay crumpled on his otherwise clean floor. He peered out into the hallways slowly, head bent low. The coast was clear. Quick as a squirrel he scampered across the carpeted hallway and into his older brother's room. Brad was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had buried his face in the palms of his hands, but jerked quickly upright as Randy entered and silently closed the door.
"Fuck! Randy! Fuck!" Brad stammered as Randy walked over to the bed and plunked down naked.
"Well, if you insist." Randy quipped as he swung an arm around Brad's shoulders and tried to pull him close. "What's the matter Brad, you look all freaked." He said while planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Randy, knock it off. Dad saw. He fuckin' SAW." Brad groaned while pushing away.
Randy sat in silence for a long moment. As soon as he had entered Brad's room his dick had come back to life, but now it wilted just as rapidly. `Dad saw?' he wondered. "Saw what?" he asked after another moment had passed.
Brad turned, face flushed as he spoke "When I left your room I bumped right into him. I think he was coming from the bathroom or something, but... but he saw me naked with my woody. Randy man, he had one too! The front of his boxers was soaked-- I thought he spilled something on them but..."
Randy was beginning to understand. "He couldn't have seen Brad, the door was locked. It was locked! Right?" Brad hesitated. "Right?!" Randy repeated as he shook the older lad by his shoulder.
"Right. RIGHT!" Brad hissed while breathing a long sigh. "It was locked, I had to unlock it to open it. But he was hard Randy, really hard. And he saw me totally hard. Leaving your room. He has to know by now."
"What did you tell him?"
"Um..." Brad began, his eyes squinting as he tried to concentrate. "Er... let'see... I told him I was hot. That's why I was naked. `Cause I was hot."
Randy's right eye twitched ever so slightly as he looked at his brother. His big, strong, sexy, STUPID brother. He drew a slow breath between clenched teeth. "Okay. That. Was. Good." He lied.
"Ya? Ya think?" Brad smiled uncertainly, looking to him for approval.
"Yes, it was fucking genius." Randy retorted, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his tone and failing miserably. Changing topics he looked down at his dick. "So... now that dad is gone to bed, what's say we go back to my room and have some more fun?"
Brad frowned at that, but after a few tugs on his prick nodded agreement. "Okay," he said "then we can come back here and sleep on the clean sheets."
Randy lead Brad to the door, listened at its side, then opened it ever so softly. His hardon led the way into the hallway as he looked back and gave brad a wink. When he turned Brad bumped naked into his back. Randy had stopped short, the cocky little cock sucker grin wiped from his face. He was facing his dad.
"Oh... hi dad." Randy squeaked. FUCKING IDIOT!' he wailed silently, wishing he could shrivel up as quickly as his prick just had, Why didn't you stay in Brad's room? Why, why why whywhywhywhywhy?!'
"Good morning boys." Tim said as he regarded his two naked sons with the full of his eye.
"Ya, g-good mornin' dad.' Brad echoed.
The hallway was cramped from the closeness of the three men. Randy stood there totally naked, fully exposed while Brad had only his own slender body to hide his own nudity. The Tool-Man was garbed only in a pare of thin boxers which had a rather large wet spot on its crotch. Randy gulped as his eyes unconsciously drifted over his dad's body. The scent of sex lingered about the man, the unmistakable smell of sperm. And his chest seemed so... Randy could not place it. Randy's heart beat hammered in his ears, ever thump echoing. `Why doesn't he say something? Why does he just keep looking?!'
The phone in the kitchen began to ring. Once. Twice. Three times.
Randy watched in a daze as Tim turned and walked away, down the hall towards the kitchen. Just as quickly Randy ran to his room and locked the door, while Brad turned and did the same. Neither boy left his room for the rest of the day, praying that their father would forget they existed.
Tim had reached the phone on its sixth ring and answered while his head still spun wildly. "Hello?" he asked in a mechanical voice, not really paying attention to his actions.
"Tim? Hey it's Marty." The voice on the other end of the phone greeted.
"Wha-? Marty? Do you know what time it is?" Tim said, shaking the scene of his two naked sons from his mind.
"TOOL TIME!" came the reply, followed by a snort of laughter.
"Ha ha blah!" Tim snickered, "What's up?"
There was a pause and for a moment Tim had thought the connection went dead. "Tim, I have been thinkin' and..." Marty stopped again but Tim could hear breathing on the other end of the line. "Tim I think it would be fun to head up to Wilson's cabin. If you still want to."
Tim was overjoyed, but tried to moderate his tone. "Marty! That's great. How long can you take off work?"
"Oh, I dunno... a few days maybe. I was saving some vacation time, but since Nancy and I have been fighting..."
"Three days sound good?" Tim asked, hoping to get away from the nasty subject of Nancy. Tim hated that wench.
"Three? Heck, why not make it a week?" Marty replied.
"Oh... a week. Well, I mean, I have some vacation time too... and it's not like they can do the show without me. I'm sure I could take a week, but I'll have to check with Binford first." A grin split Tim's face from ear to ear. YES!' he thought while dancing a quick little jig, This is PERFECT!' "Um... When do you wanna leave?"
"Friday?"
"Sounds good. How have you been?"
"Oh..." Marty began with an unhappy sigh, "I've seen better days. Let's just say that this vacation couldn't come at a batter time."
"Heh, well I hear that man." Tim grinned, "Listen, it's still early and I was hopin' to catch up on my beauty sleep. I'll talk to you later, `k?"
"Ya... ya that's good Tim, talk to you later." Marty said before pausing again. When he did speak his voice was soft "Tim?"
"Ya?"
"Thanks."
"What are big brothers for? Good night." Tim smiled.
"Good night."
When he had placed the phone on its receiver Tim took a trip out to the garage and locked the door behind him. Seated safely in the hot rod he dropped the boxers to the floor and leaned back, thinking of Marty. His favorite tool quickly arose to the task at hand, and he worked it with a master's skill.
To be continued...
If you enjoyed this installment of "Tool-Men" please e-mail me (PsychoPuppy21@yahoo.com) and let me know. Remember, the more feedback I get the better I write! If you want to send flames or insults, those are welcome too... I always enjoy a good laugh.