A Family That Works Together Ch. 01

Author's note: This initial chapter involves male-on-male handjob. Future editions will involve different types of sex. All characters are over eighteen.

*****

When I turned eighteen, we were as broke as a family could be. My mother, twin sister, and I worked crappy jobs just to make ends meet. After years of eating whatever we could afford and dashing from one rat trap apartment to the next, my mom finally called me into her bedroom one day and asked me to sit next to her on her old mattress that laid on a bare floor.

"Do you trust me?" She asked. "Do you trust your loving and protective mother?"

"Of course," I answered.

Because I did. I trusted my mother implicitly and willingly. I suppose the same was true for my sister. In spite of all the crap she must have put up with waiting tables or cleaning up other people's messes, she always met us at home with a smile on her face. She never let her own weary soul drag us down.

Occasionally, I could see her cave when moments of self-doubt and panic slipped in. Every once in a while, usually late in the evening, I'd catch her just staring out a window or hunched over the sink. I would have done anything to change her fortunes.

That was why, that afternoon when we piled into mom's crappy two door car and we sped off to a part of town I wasn't familiar with, I didn't question her judgement. Neither did my sister. And I'll never regret what came next.

"Don't worry," Mom told us. "We're just going to pick up a little extra work. Nothing we won't enjoy while we make a little cash."

When we pulled up to the grungy warehouse dock, there was a young man, just a few years older than me, sitting on a stool next to the entrance stairs with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He wore overalls over a tshirt and well-worn work boots.

"You Cathy?"

"Kristi..." Mother corrected.

"Right... right. Come on this way," he beckoned, putting out the half smoked cigarette on the sole of his shoe and then placing it on the side of an ashtray for later.

A creaky metal door swung open and we were ushered into cinder blocked lined hallway and then into a maze of poorly constructed set pieces. This was some kind of cheaply built photo or video studio but not like the ones I had seen on tv.

"Ron! Ron! They here, Ron!"

The young man yelled in a country accent and voice that was aged well beyond his years. He pounded at a heavy wooden door when we arrived at our destination. It was the only properly hung door I had seen, yet, and the only one that looked to be made from solid wood.

The heavy door swung open, nearly catching our guide in the face. He swept to the side and held the edge of the door as if he meant to pull it open for this Ron.

"Why didn't you get me sooner, Carl? I said get me right away!"

The man exiting the dark little office was as excited to see us as he was angry with Carl. There was some sort of editing equipment I spotted on the far wall and a monitor was flickering around the corner, out of sight.

"You said when they got here. So, here we are. Can I go get clean, now?"

"Sure.. sure..."

Carl released the door and shuffled away.

Ron looked like he was in his fifties. His voice was a little aged and raspy, like he'd smoked for decades. He was a little hunched over, too. It wasn't a defect, it was just that his posture looked like he'd been hunched over in front of screens for years. Otherwise, he looked like a handsome man, with a full head of greying hair and a couple of popeye forearms. He stood a few inches shorter than me but taller than my sister, Honey, my short mother.

"Welcome to our studios!" He announced, spreading his thick forearms in front of him. "My name is Ron, and I know this elegant creature is Kristi."

He took hold of one of my mother's hands and spun her around. Her yellow sun dress was faded but it fluttered while she turned and teased her curves just as well as new fabric would. There was something a little creepy and, yet, a little charming about Ron.

"Ron, this is Honey, my daughter, and my baby boy, Amos," she said, clutching my head down toward her ample bosom.

I was so embarrassed.

"Wonderful, wonderful..."Ron took a long look up and down my body and then stepped back and stared me in the eyes for an awkwardly long time. "He'll be great."

Nobody, outside of my doting mother, had ever called me great before that moment. I was lean and strong, thanks to a light diet and good genetics, but not a great athlete. I made it through high school, but I was no genius. And my situation at home meant I had a hard time keeping together relationships because we were always on the move and I was a little ashamed to show anyone where I lived. My pride swelled a little when Ron said I'd be "great" without ever making me pass a test or prove myself.

Then, he swiveled to look at my sister who looked concerned as she bit her lip and looked back at my mother. A moment earlier, Ron made me glow, but, in that moment, I suddenly wanted to smack Ron for the way he was staring up and down Honey's long frame.

"Such a lovely young woman," he finally pronounced. "And brilliant like her mother, I bet."

"OK, since we're on a tight schedule today, I'm gonna ask the ladies to go sit in the lounge..." he motioned to an old sofa pushed up against the wall outside his office with an old tv on a table just a few feet away.

"My assistant, Alice, will be right back and she can get you all coffee or water, or whatever... but mostly just coffee and water. Just relax. Famous Amos, come with me, my man."

Soon, I was off, again. This time, following Ron through a maze of cheap little sets. After a couple turns, we arrived in a room that resembled a little office with a desk in one corner and a sofa on one wall. A very expensive looking digital camera sat on a tripod facing the sofa and a less expensive looking handheld video camera sat on the desk.

I began to get nervous.

"OK, Famous Amos. Here's the deal. You want to make some money?"

"Of course," I replied while returning the man's enthusiasm.

"Great! You're mom could have made a lot of money, I'm telling you. I mean before..." he gestured to me. "But she wanted to raise kids, so who was I to stop her?"

This was getting weird.

"Do you want to make some cash, my boy?" Ron was adjusting the tripod as he looked at me. He sort of shepherded me toward the wall with the couch.

"I said, 'Yes'?"

I wasn't sure if he didn't hear me or if this was part of some speech he gave everyone. The camera on the tripod was being focused on me and, somehow, I knew we weren't there for family portraits.

"Ok, Amos, just relax and stand right there in front of the sofa."

My arms shook at little as they dropped to my side. I was wearing a loose fitting pair of jeans and a tshirt that clung to my chest. I was aware of every fiber in the cotton fabric as it pressed against my nipples and collarbone.

"Don't be nervous. This just kind of like... practice," Ron explained while he snapped photos.

Lights around the room flashed as he press the little button on the camera. They blinded me at first but I adjusted during the next several shots.

"OK, man, here's where the money comes in... Why don't you lift that shirt off for me, killer?"

The question and his tone of voice were somehow emasculating to me. He was trying to be my friend but no friend ever asked me to strip off my clothes, before. On top of that, I couldn't help feel a little betrayed by my mother. How could she possibly bring me here? She must have known what this was.

After a moment of shame and self pity passed, I lifted my chin, stuck out my chest and ripped my shirt off over my head. If my mother was so desperate to pimp out her own family, then so be it, I thought. I was going to do whatever she needed because she was always there when we needed her.

"There we go. Man, what a stud. You should be so proud of that rock hard chest!" Ron enthusiastically complimented me.

And I fell for it. I couldn't help but smile.

"Now just turn to the side... and the other side..."

An entire series of instructions followed and Ron had me strike a few poses with my shirt off. After a few minutes of taking pictures of me shirtless, he backed the camera up and fidgeted with the focus while I sat on the sofa and stared down at the frayed rug underneath.

Complicated feelings would come later but, in that moment, I was just flattered that someone liked looking at me. Up to that point, I had dated a few girls on and off, but nothing ever worked. I mostly blended into the walls at my various schools. And I never thought I could feel some excitement over a guy taking interest in my body but, I had to admit to myself that I liked the attention.

"Cool cool... here's the next step... I need you to get rid of those shoes and then start unzipping those pants. You good with that?"

"Sure," I quietly replied.

"Cool, man, cool. Just follow my instructions and we can have a good time..."

Ron managed to get a few laughs from me with his cheesy dad-jokes and a few crude ones I hadn't heard before. I just followed his instructions, kicking off my running shoes, and then starting to work on my belt. He would tell me to stop and freeze or change positions from time-to-time. Finally, the moment of truth came. I had my belt off, my button undone, and my fly totally unzipped.

"Now, pull those bad boys down to about your knees for me?"

At least it was a question and not a command. I hesitated and then realized pictures like these couldn't really hurt me. I was out of high school, so nobody there would bully me about this. I was never going to qualify for a white collar job and I hardly had any friends to give me shit about these, in the event that they ever hit the internet. Ron seemed like a good guy and my mother seemed to trust him.

I grabbed the waistline of my well-worn jeans and yanked the to my knees.

"Wow! I don't see a lot of tighty whities around here!" Ron laughed a good-hearted laugh in his rasphy voice.

Hugging my penis and sac was a pair of Hanes I was lucky I had changed into just that morning. They were still pretty white but they were about a size too small. The top of my pubic hair spilled out over the top of the red waistline a little and they rode a little tight against my heavy scrotum. I could feel skin from my sac sticking to my penis which were crammed together inside the fabric.

Once again, I turned side-to-side and struck a few poses. I even came up with a few of my own, now that I was getting the hang of things. I leaned into the arm of the sofa and draped my hands over my head. Then I sat on the sofa and pretended like I was pulling them the rest of the way off. Ron pulled the camera from its tripod and began to circle me. He seemed to really be getting into the shoot.

"OK, get rid of those bad boys!" He shouted as though I was standing on the other side of the warehouse.

The jeans dropped to the floor and I kicked them to the desk to join my shoes. I wasn't wearing socks, so I was just down to my tighty whities as the only fabric between my cock and the camera.

Ron had me sit on the couch like a basketball player hunched over on a bench. Then, he had me stand and he got so close to the bulge in my underwear that I thought he might be seeing right through them.

"Great work, man. Now, I take it this is your first time modeling?" Ron asked while he looked down at the digital screen on the camera to check his work.

"Well, yeah. Is it that obvious?" I asked putting my hands on my hips.

I felt vulnerable, all of a sudden. I was suddenly aware of how strange this all was and the room spun a little. I sat on the couch, wondering if my mother really knew what was going on back here.

"Let me bring you in on a little family secret," Ron said, putting the camera back on the tripod and he crossed the short room to sit on the couch next to me.

"I can tell already you're twice as bright and twice as brave as your old man..."

My head popped up at the mention of my father. I had never met him, only hearing a few stories as I grew up about how much of an asshole everyone thought he was.

"Sorry, hope that didn't cut too close," Ron apologized but I shook my head to indicate my indifference.

"Cool. So, your mom and dad and I met in a room kind of like this one and in a warehouse not too much different from this one... Gosh, if you're mom said you're eighteen today, then that would have been like twenty five years ago. We had a great time, for years, man, years. And, I'm sorry to break this news to you, if I'm the first one to tell you, but we were taking our clothes off and celebrating each other's bodies in front of cameras that were shitty and could barely focus. What I'm trying to do here is pay your mom back for all the joy she gave me. And I can pay more if I can sell more. What I guess I'm saying is, there are a lotta old pervs, men and women, out there who would love to see an eighteen year old young man like you without your clothes on. And the more they pay me, there more I can pay you."

He paused for a moment, to let his little speech settle in.

"What do you say?"

Calm settled in. I took four or five deep breaths.

"I'm in," I said confidently while I turned my head up to look at Ron in the eyes. They were a soft blue color that seemed to hide some pain and weariness behind his jovial demeanor.

"Awesome. And, you tell me if this isn't what you want but, sometimes, my models find it easier if I strip down first. That way it's not like I'm asking you to do something I wouldn't... Tell me if that's creepy or whatever..."

He could have been seen as a creep taking pictures of a much younger man. He could have been seen as a jerk. To me, he was a guy sending me a lot of unconditional positivity and I got the feeling he really wanted to take his pants off.

"Sure, Ron. That would kinda even things up."

With that, he wasted no time in tossing his faded golf shirt and his khakis. He wasn't wearing underwear, which did not surprise me at all. What surprised me was, as the khakis came down, the shaft of his penis just kept coming. When he had completely stripped down, he stood back up into his hunched posture, pushed up his glasses and gave me a little wink. Between his legs hung the largest cock I had ever seen, and I had to take gym class twice due to an administrative mix up.

His shaft and balls were clean shaven and, I had to admit to myself, he had a pretty cock. It wasn't all veiny or crooked like others I had seen. It was so smooth and the uncircumsized foreskin at the tip gave it a nice unbroken line down his thick pink shaft. I didn't consider myself gay or bisexual, but, in that moment, I was definitely admiring his cock and his meaty abs and thighs.

"You're up, dude."

The moment was upon us and I slipped my hands into the front of my underwear and slowly pulled them down the front of my thighs, letting Ron snap his camera over and over while they pulled away from my shaft and balls. I wasn't nearly as hung as Ron, especially with my privates scrunched up like they were in the briefs, and I certainly wasn't a pubic hair shaver. To my credit, I also didn't have a lot of hair on my balls or between my legs thanks to the amount of time my busboy jobs kept me on my feet. That frequent friction kept me pretty bare below the shaft and, above it, there was just a tuft of light brown hair that matched the hair on my head.

"Nice, Amos, really nice body. You're gonna go far if you stick with this."

The feeling of being completely naked in front of a camera brought back the shame, though.

"Why couldn't we just have nice things like other people?" I wondered. "Did it really have to come to this?"

"Amos, buddy, stick with me," Ron urged.

And I found my courage, again. In fact, I found it so much that, within a couple minutes I could feel my shaft swelling.

"Wow, this guy's doing Jedi mind tricks over here," Ron commented.

He must have read my instinctively quizzical look because he stopped shooting and nodded his head down toward my waist. Looking down, I could see that I had popped a hard-on while posing for his camera. My hands immediately went down between my legs.

"Hey bro, it's just a little wood. I've seen way more than my share. Actually, if you feel good about it, you can just go ahead and give it a little encouragement," he said it like a teacher trying to help a student with a math problem.

My brain spun. I thought about my mother and sister waiting in the lounge. Then, I tried not to think about them. He was right. For whatever reason, this felt kind of good. Kind of exciting. Before I could think about it, my thumb and point finger were rubbing the sensitive skin just under the head of my circumcised prick

"Doesn't that feel good? It looks like it feels good."

"It's kinda nice," I said.

As my shaft stiffened upward into its horn-like shape, I did feel good. It felt great to let myself go, especially with someone so encouraging watching. It felt nice to feel the draft of the warehouse airflow over my bare body. I felt free and it felt exciting.

"You popular with the ladies... or the boys? Amos?"

My hand drifted back to settle on my waist while I looked up and answered Ron.

"Not so much. I kissed some girls I dated. That's about all I got."

"Wow! You're a virgin? You're the son of two amazing adult film stars and a virgin? Not so much as a tub job?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Oh. My dude! Amos! Listen... listen, listen..."Ron was falling all over his naked self.

He stumbled his way to the desk where he grabbed the small video camera and nearly somersaulted backward trying to get back to his tripod.

"Is there any way you could do me the honor of being the first? Just a little tug..."

My heart skipped a beat and then ten more. Was I really going to let this middle aged guy be the first person to touch my penis, at least in a sexual way?

"Pay me time and a half," I spit back, feeling my cock flopping back and forth as my hips swayed below me.

"Amos, you just get paid a flat fee. Dunno what your mom said..."

"Fine, pay me one and a half times my fee."

"I will if I can use this... maybe not now... maybe now later... but at some point."

I was already working on my one day off per week, so I wanted to make it worth it.

"Fine. What do we do?" I asked nervously.

"Let me turn this on. You just get comfortable on that sofa."

Ron fumbled with the camera some more, and eventually got it to mount to his tripod. His huge penis was growing with every second and it was like a mammoth's trunk swaying beneath him by the time he came to join me on the sofa.

"Just lean back and let me do my thing. I'm an expert," Ron explained.

My head flopped backward until it found the back of the sofa. I felt a set of large but delicate fingers running their way around the base of my scrotum. With my eyes closed, I could imagine a beautiful young woman sitting next to me. I could imagine every inch of her naked body sitting upright just to my right where Ron was.

What I couldn't pretend away was his cologne. At least he was subtle about it but, at this range, I was getting a full nostril-full of it. His hands moved upward and he was soon slowly massaging them around my stiffening shaft. I felt amazing. Nothing in my own masturbation experimentation ever felt this good. He really knew what he was doing, just like he said.

After he massaged me until I thought my shaft was going to freeze like that, his hand locked on my shaft and began stroking.

"Fuck, can you keep doing that?" I groaned.

His hand was so tight and, yet, the thickness of it formed the perfect pocket for surrounding my manhood and maintaining control. The hand sped up and I couldn't help but open my eyes and look down. A man's strong hand was stroking me. It was making me so hard and so excited and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My head turned to look toward Ron. His other hand was working on his own erection.