For Liam, With Love Pt. 01

I love my father, and my four brothers. My mom left my father when I was five and promptly forgot she had children. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration. She'd come to visit us, especially on our birthdays, but little by little, we would receive presents in the mail, then cards full of money. By the time I was sixteen, she stopped sending the cards and we heard nothing more from her.

To his credit, Dad stepped up to the plate and lavished his boys with love and affection, encouraging us to do the same with each other. Our house was maintained through communal cooperation. We were assigned chores until I was fourteen, then Dad decided we were all old enough to know that if something needed to be done, then you did it.

My oldest brother, Frank, who was thirteen when Mom left, became the de facto "mom" of the house. My other brothers and I obeyed him, as if Dad were speaking through him. He made sure we had everything we needed for school, helped us with our homework, and made sure we were picked up after practice and made it to our games and other functions. I had a special place in my heart for Frank, especially after he started working for Dad's construction company and came home exhausted, then prepared dinner for the family. I started helping out in the kitchen then, learning to cook under Frank's watchful eye. I also did the dishes with the twins, Peyton and Paxton, so he could get some rest.

We were a man down when Travis went away to college, leaving me and the twins to take up the slack, which didn't leave much time for a social life. The twins didn't mind, preferring their own company to the company of others. They spent so much time locked away in their room that Dad would go up at least once a night to be sure they were still alive. It's not that they were anti-social or anything. They had a bunch of friends in school, and the three of us played on the same baseball team together. When I was playing football for our school, they not only went to every game, but every practice, too. As long as they were together, they were happy, which is why they opted for Community College instead of chancing being separated at a university.

Despite being four years older than me, Travis was my best bud. He won a full ride with a football scholarship, inspiring me to try out for my high school's team. I was good, but Travis was better. His going away to college was hard on me, but I made it through with the support of my family, especially Dad, who spent a little extra time with me while Travis was away. Still, I missed my best bud, my confidant, when I needed to talk out a problem. We face timed as often as possible, but it really wasn't the same.

During Christmas break, in my Sophomore year of high school, I confessed to him that I was gay. He was supportive and promised to keep my secret until I was ready to tell the rest of the family. After that, he would harass me about my continuing to date girls, shocked when I got my first blow job from Liam, my best friend. I didn't tell him that Liam was a trans guy, but only because that was Liam's secret, and it wasn't my place to divulge it. After that first blow job, however, I stopped dating girls and focused my time on him. We were already best friends, and I've heard it said that if you're going to fall in love, you should become friends first.

My story starts on the day of my eighteenth birthday. My father and Frank planned a big celebration, inviting my entire senior class to a pool party at the house. I set my alarm early that morning so I could spend some quality time with Liam before he left to spend a few weeks on his aunt and uncle's farm. He decided he wanted to be a vet, and the opportunity to work on a farm was too much for him to pass, even if it was just for a few months.

I awoke with a piss hard-on, as usual, and walked into the bathroom I shared with Travis and the Twins. After taking a leak, I started up the shower to warm up, then checked myself out in the mirror. I had black hair cut close to the scalp and icy blue eyes, traits I and my brothers inherited from our father. Travis was the exception. With blonde hair and brown eyes, he took after Mom.

I flexed in the mirror, admiring my strong, buff form. My six-foot tall body was large with round muscles, my waist thick with a solid core to help support my upper body mass. It was the difference between strength training and body building. I don't have to look good on the field, but I do need to be strong. And I was as strong as an ox, just like my Dad.

After showering, I bounced down the stairs in clean boxers and made my way to the kitchen, where I found Frank working on breakfast and talking to himself. He was wearing the Snoopy pajama bottoms I got him for Christmas, his toned ass and wide shoulders looking so hot, it was a good thing he was my brother. Truth is, and I don't know if it's just because I'm gay, but all the men in my family are hot. We're all athletic, and from what I've seen on camping trips when we would go skinny dipping to rinse off the day's dirt and grime, we're all nicely hung. I, myself have a nice eight inches when erect. With a six-inch circumference, it wasn't just thick, it was fat.

I crept up on Frank, who was distracted with what he was doing. Standing behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist, startling him.

"Jesus Howard Christ!" he yelled, "I swear, Hunter, I'm going to tie a cow bell around your neck! You scared me half to death." I heard laughter, and I looked around confused. "Tell your brother good morning." He motioned to the open laptop on the counter. Frank wasn't talking to himself. He was face timing with Travis, who was still at school. I looked at my only blonde brother, his dishwater blonde hair now cut into a mohawk that was lying limp on his head and starting to grow out.

"Hey, asshole," I smiled at him. That was our thing. The better the insult, jab or insinuation, the better we expressed our twisted brotherly love.

"Right back at you, cocksucker," he winked at me. I gave him a face that let him know I didn't appreciate his coming so close to the truth. Playing running back for my high school, I managed to quietly hook up with some of the guys on my team. I even lost my virginity to the quarterback the night we got drunk and drove his beat up truck onto the field. He fucked me on the fifty-yard line under a blanket of stars, with a crescent moon smiling down on us. Liam sucked me off for the first time three weeks later, ending my playing around with other guys.

"Language, boys!" Frank scolded us, "Fucking potty mouths."

I rolled my eyes and Travis laughed.

"So, are you going to be home in time for my party?" I asked Travis.

"He should be," Frank chimed in, "He graduated a week ago."

"I won't make it back for the party, but I will be home tonight," Travis told me, looking over my shoulder at Frank, "Be sure to save me some cake."

"I'll save you a big slice," I promised.

"Alright! See you later, and happy birthday, Little Man." He signed off and the screen went blank.

Frank handed me a plate piled high with eggs and bacon, the big muscles of his hairy pecs flexing provocatively as he did. What I would give to have a hairy chest like Frank and Dad. Travis had a thick patch of brown in between his pecs that extended down to a wide treasure trail, but the twins and I had no chest hair, save the thin line between my navel and bush.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, looking around the empty kitchen.

"Oh, he's sleeping in," Frank said, "He had a hard night last night. Something to do with a big job he's bidding on. Did you happen to see the twins moving around upstairs when you came down?" I shook my head no, my mouth full of food. "This isn't a flop house," Frank muttered to himself, "We have things to do." He exited the kitchen to search for Peyton and Paxton as Dad entered. They exchanged a passing hug as they passed each other in the doorway.

"Good morning, Birthday Boy," Dad whispered in my ear before kissing me on the top of my head on his way to the coffee pot. I watched as he made his coffee- two sugars with enough cream to turn it brown.

My father was the hottest dad in town. His hair was beginning to gray in a salt and pepper way, but there were no wrinkles in his face, save a few laugh lines, and he had the body of a much younger man. At fifty-two, he put thirty years olds to shame, and he was as strong as he looked. His mid-section was as trim and lean as a younger man's. and his abs cut through the hair on his belly. I admired the way his black chest hair spread across his pecs and down his stomach in a way that always made me think of the phoenix rising from the ashes. No doubt about it, my father was one sexy mother fucker. In my case, literally.

I started eating and he sat across the table from me, looking at me affectionately.

"My baby boy is all grown up," he said aloud, but more to himself than to me. I smiled at him, but I continued eating. Gotta fuel the muscles, you know. "So, what are your plans for the morning?"

"Liam," I reminded him.

With the exception of my sexual orientation, and my relationship with Liam, Dad and I had an open dialogue about everything happening in my life. He was careful to carve out one on one time with all of us. We often went to get ice cream together and eat it in the park on Main Street, where we would talk about school, sports, and social activities. He had only one rule about his boys having sex- you never brought a girl (or in my case, a guy) back to the house for sex. It was his only rule, and we all obeyed it without question.

"Oh, that's right!" he exclaimed with his memory refreshed, "He leaves tomorrow, right?" I nodded, continuing to eat. "Is he going to come to the party?"

"He wants to," I said after swallowing hard and washing it down with a drink of milk, "But there's a lot to do before he leaves, and he wants to spend some time with his folks and brother. I told him it was okay if he couldn't make it. We'll have some time hanging out together before the party."

"Little bastards," Frank muttered under his breath as he entered the kitchen.

Frank wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, hence the reason he went to work for our father's company instead of going to college, gaining on the job training under my Dad's wing. Juggling the planning of a big party and running the household on top of working ten hour shifts was taking a toll on his abilities, which stressed him out and made him irritable.

"Were they sleeping?" Dad asked, amused with Frank's attitude.

"No they were-" he broke off suddenly, looked at me, then back at Dad, "Still in bed, but goofing off." I smiled at the subterfuge of Frank's language. I had figured out on my own that the twins loved each other in a way that wasn't entirely brotherly.

"Oh, I see," Dad laughed, "You could have just let them be."

"It's all hands on deck today," Frank snapped at Dad. Only Frank could get away with that. "I have balloons that need to be blown up, decorations to put in place, tables to be set up... God, I wish Travis had come home when he was supposed to. He's more reliable than those two slackers combined."

"It'll be fine," Dad told him quietly, pulling him in next to him, snaking an arm around Frank's waist. Like I said, Dad showed his affection for us openly and without shame. His example had an effect on how we treated each other, and other people we came in contact with, always unabashedly expressing our love for one another. It called me into more than a few fights with bullies at school, defending the little guy.

"I know, I know. I'm just feeling overwhelmed."

"Is there something I can do to help?" I asked, standing to put my empty plate in the sink.

"On your birthday?" he asked, appalled at the possibility, "Absolutely not! You go on and get out of here so you're not under foot. Go see if your little friend is going to give you some head before he leaves town and hooks up with a handsome young farmer."

"You're such a boost for my ego," I deadpanned as I left them in the kitchen, not rising to the bait. I wasn't out with my family and knew Frank was just being an asshole, but I still had to pretend there wasn't anything there. If Liam let me tell the family that he was transgendered, I could come out with the family about our relationship. Until I could tell them the whole truth, I felt better about keeping it all on the down low.

On my way upstairs, I encountered my twin brothers, scrambling down the stairs as they pulled on clothes in a hurry. It was like watching a Laurel and Hardy routine. To most people, they were identical, but most people didn't know them the way I and the rest of the family did. To me, the differences were subtle, but obvious, distinguishing them apart from each other.

"Happy birthday, Hunter," Paxton said, patting me on the back.

"Yeah, happy birthday," said Peyton, giving me a quick hug.

I headed up to my room to dress for my date with Liam. I chose to go with some comfortable, well-worn jeans that accentuated the bulges and curves below the waistline, and a plain white tee to show off what I had up top. Liam and I always kept it casual, preferring to go putt-putting or toss the football around over more traditional dates. I taught him how to catch and was surprised to learn he had a great arm. Playing on a rival baseball team, we were no strangers to challenging each other, whether on the field or with game controllers.

After I finished dressing, I headed out to the Dodge Charger I got for my sixteenth birthday. Driving to Liam's I thought about my dating Liam. It's not like I hid my sexuality because I was afraid my Dad would disown me or send me away to some Bible camp to pray away the gay. We weren't a religious family. Aside from occasionally running across televangelists on late night TV, I had no exposure to such thinking. Sex, as Dad explained it, was something to be enjoyed. As men, we all had our wild oats to sow. I didn't come out of the closet simply because I wasn't ready to live openly, and neither was Liam.

I pulled up along the curb of Liam's house and parked. Walking up to the house, I wound around the winding sidewalk to the front door, and I rang the bell. Liam answered almost immediately. At five foot eight, he was four inches shorter than me, with an average build. His strawberry blonde hair was cut into a short fade, which highlighted his angular facial features, and stunning dark green eyes. He was wearing white shorts and a black t-shirt with "Life's uncertain, eat dessert first." in white letters across the front.

"Thank God you're here," he said in his sultry deep voice, grabbing his backpack, "I love them, but they're driving me nuts!"

"I know the feeling," I laughed, "Try adding a couple more to the mix, and I'll have some sympathy for you."

"No thanks," he smiled, "I have enough already." We walked down the sidewalk to my car, and I opened the door for him, always the gentleman. No sooner had I climbed in did he reach over and palm my crotch. "I can't wait to get my lips around your big cock."

"All in due time," I laughed, "I don't think it wise to let you go down on me in front of your house."

As far as having a boyfriend went, I found the perfect guy. We shared an interest in art, mine leaning toward a career as a graphic artist in one capacity or another. He loved sci-fi and fantasy, was turned on by horror films, and found action flicks exhilarating. We liked sports, taking hikes through the big nature parks, camping, and hunting- with a camera.

We arrived at the theater to find a long line to get in. He seemed antsy, and I threw an arm around his shoulders and leaned in for a whisper. "Looks like you'll have to wait until after the movie."

"Or we could just skip the movie and find someplace secluded."

"We have time for that," I told him firmly, "I want to spend some quality time with my guy before he deserts me. Sex is fine, but it's a bit one sided." I was hinting at my getting blown, while he rarely let me do the same for him, no matter how much I acknowledged his dick.

"I enjoy what we do," he informed me, "Don't go getting any ideas."

I loved that he thought I was trying to fuck him. Truth be told, I had his ass on more than one occasion, but it had been months since I'd seen him with no pants on. I knew he was firm that there would be no fucking his front hole, and I respected that. As a gay man, I was no more interested in fucking him there than he was. I once pressed my hand against it when sucking his dick, and he became furious, pulling his pants up and leaving before I could explain. I finally did, explaining that I was only trying to bring him more pleasure, the way I'd play with another guy's balls. He forgave me, but I hadn't been let back into the magical kingdom since.

The movie was great, and Liam kept his hands to himself. He pretty much had to. The theater was packed, leaving us no room for privacy. After the movie, we headed to the food court to get some ice cream before heading to the comic store, where I bought him a graphic novel for his trip.

Afterward, I drove to one of the parks that was rumored to be a cruising area for gay men. Apparently, they roamed the wooded area in search for cock. I had never ventured there, but that side of the park had very little foot traffic during the day, giving Liam and I a little privacy for sexy time. I was already hard when we pulled into the parking lot, under the shade of a large Texas oak. It was sort of our spot.

Killing the motor, I reclined my seat a little and pushed it back as far as it would before pulling off my t-shirt and unfastening my fly to pull my erect manhood free. I was surprised when Liam pulled off his shorts and climbed on top of me. I smiled at the thought that I was going to get a piece of ass for my birthday.

Straddling me, he hovered above me as I stroked his little dick, welcoming it back into my life. At two inches in length and as thick as my finger, he was well hung for a transman. He contributed the size of his "Little big guy" to him started testosterone at an early age, but I think it was genetic. His brother, David, was just a year older than we were, and I had Phys Ed with him one years. I remember stealing a glance at him in the showers, impressed with the long fleshy tool hanging from his dark red pubes. Yeah, it was definitely genetics.

He was hard, indicating his excitement. With my focus on his cock, I felt the head of my cock brush against the soft folds at the entrance of his front hole. Surprised, I looked up at him.

"Don't say a fucking word," he growled at me. I nodded slightly in obedience. There was no doubt in my mind that I loved him, and I would do anything for him. If this was what he wanted, or needed, the least I could do was sit there and let him have his way with me.

He pushed down and I felt my big cock head push into his tight, wet hole. It was warm and soft, slipping around my cock like a velvet sleeve. He pushed me deeper into him, slowly as he moaned, my cock getting harder by the second. I had never imagined it would feel so wonderful. No wonder straight boys work so hard for it.

I bottomed out inside his tight, warm tunnel, encasing my dick from head to base. He ground into my pelvis, barely shifting my cock inside him, causing the wet tunnel to swirl luxuriously around me. I caught my breath and unconsciously held it as he began to slowly pump my cock in and out of him, getting out of me what he wanted.

I grabbed his tiny, muscular ass firmly with both hands and let him have his way with me. Soon he was moaning loudly, his head thrown back with pleasure. Sitting up, I pulled up his shirt and looked at him. He had hairy, flat but well developed pecs, his scars hardly visible on his creamy white skin. Running a finger over his hairy nipples, I pulled my hand down his belly and found a dark red treasure trail thicker than my own.