For The Love of All That's Holy

[Author's Note: This is a loose collaboration of sorts. The original idea for this story came from BelleCanzuto and the plot came from Lexx Ruthless. Please check out their profiles to give them the credit they deserve.]

Peace... at last.

Finding solitude in a family of seven is practically impossible. There's always someone yelling, screaming, crying, running, shouting, or just plain being a nuisance. There's no time to think without someone getting in your face and wanting something from you.

Today, though, today was one of those glorious days Tommy Drew had to himself. He could barely believe his luck when Mrs. Drew told him that she needed to run errands and would be taking all of his siblings with her. Normally he'd be stuck on babysitting duty, but little Michael and Sarah both needed haircuts and the obnoxious twins wanted to go hang out with their other pre-teen bratty friends. Of course, the infant went wherever Mrs. Drew went, so that left him alone.

Finally.

The silence in the house was deafening. Day-to-day life in the Drew household was nothing short of pure chaos. Toys and clutter were strewn about every room like the aftermath of a tornado. His father had said that with all that Tommy's mother had to put up with, she had the patience of Job.

His mother? What about him? As the eldest, it was his "duty" to help manage his younger siblings. It was a thankless task, and an impossible one. He had no real authority and everyone knew it. It just meant that he got all the blame for everything someone else did. Worse, his parents wouldn't back him up when he needed it the most.

Even so, he was a good guy at heart. Even with the free time on his hands, he didn't think of himself first. He thought about doing something nice; perhaps an unexpected surprise for his mother for when she returned. He could clean up the wreck of the house. That would make her happy.

However, the sight of the toys spread all over the floor just brought back up memories from the previous day's catastrophe. His charitable feelings faded as he recalled the disastrous events. Mrs. Drew had told him to help her clean up, but little did he know that Rachel and Rebecca had followed around behind him taking things that he had put away and putting them back on the floor the instant his back was turned.

"Tommy!" his mother had cried when she came into the room. "I thought I told you to help me clean this place up!"

Tommy looked around, shocked that the room looked worse than it had before he started. He saw the twins peeking around the corner and cover their mouths in fits of giggles.

"I did!" he protested, glowering. The girls escaped, unnoticed by their mother.

His mother tutted, the infant propped up on her hip. "I have eyes, Thomas," she said.

"I-" he started, and then she just closed her eyes and cut him off.

"Just... get this done before your father gets home," she said, and then left the room.

Tommy was livid. It wasn't even his stuff. He had dutifully helped his mother because unlike the twins, he actually believed in "honor thy mother and father." It just wasn't fair. No good deed goes unpunished, indeed.

He began swiping the toys up with a little extra vigor and anger. It didn't make him feel any better, but if he didn't vent somehow then he would probably wind up throwing something - likely at one of the twins. He felt a cathartic pleasure imagining shoving Sarah's toy unicorn horn down Rachel's throat. Rachel, Rebecca, it didn't matter. They looked the same. It gave him a brief moment of satisfaction.

Thou shalt not kill, indeed, but an eye for an eye should still be on the table. He'd never do anything violent, of course. It wasn't in his nature. But fantasizing about teaching those brats a lesson did give him some minor gratification.

When his father got home, Tommy dreaded the routine. It was as regular as clockwork, which was exactly the reason why the twins got away with everything. It was the routine. Sure enough, he asked how everyone's day went at supper immediately after saying grace. Immediately it went downhill from there.

"It was fine," Mrs. Drew said, trying to get a spoonful into the baby's mouth. "Though I would have appreciated a little more cooperation from Thomas."

Tommy paused the fork halfway to his mouth. He felt the anger flush. "I did help," he said, incredulous.

"It's true," she said sarcastically, looking at his father. "After the third time I asked."

Tommy seethed. He had been helping, and his mother only had to ask him twice, not three times. And that was because of what the twins had done. All that work - twice - and now he was getting blamed for it.

"We helped without even being asked!" Rachel offered, unsolicited. Rebecca nodded vigorously in agreement.

His father beamed at them. "I bet you did," he said.

Tommy set his jaw. How could he not know they were manipulating him? As soon as his father looked away to take a bite, both girls whipped their heads towards Tommy and stuck their tongues out. As if it were choreographed, both returned to their looks of innocence just as their father looked back in their direction.

"With that kind of help, who needs enemas?" Tommy quipped beneath his breath.

Apparently it wasn't the sotto voce he had intended. Both his parents froze and looked at him, wide eyed.

"What did you say?" his father growled through gritted teeth.

Tommy ignored the dangerous warning. He threw his fork onto his place, frustrated. "It's not my fault you raised complete brats!" he shouted.

At that his father stood up so quickly his chair shot backwards. If it was one thing he would not tolerate, it was insolence. The table fell silent. The twins' mouths were open in excited bloodlust.

"Ooooh, you're gonna get it!" Rebecca said in unabashed glee. Rachel was practically bouncing in her seat at Tommy's impending punishment.

Fortunately for Tommy, her snide comment took the wind out of Mr. Drew's sails. He closed his eyes and Tommy could see him counting to ten. "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord," he said quietly.

"See?" Rachel said to Tommy. Her voice was sing-song and mocking. "We are a heritage from the Lord!"

"You don't even know what that means!" Tommy exclaimed.

"That's enough!" Mr. Drew roared. Apparently counting to ten hadn't quite worked. The baby started crying. Michael and Sarah were sniffling, staring down at their plates. Tommy was going to get no comfort from any of them.

He stood up. "Sit down!" Mr. Drew snarled. Things had escalated so quickly. Tommy looked at his plate. He hadn't really touched his food, but he was no longer hungry.

"May I be excused?" he asked. His voice was as polite as he could force himself to be.

His mother looked from him to his father. It was a stare-off between the two men in her life. "You are excused," she said. "Go to your room. And no TV."

Tommy left the table and had to pass his father to go back to his room, so he gave him a wide berth. He went back to his room and slammed the door, feeling the same rush of anger as when the twins had caused him to do the extra work.

He heard his father's angry footsteps immediately. The door flung open and the big man was breathing heavy. Not from exertion, but from restraint. "How many times do I have to tell you," he growled. "This door stays open."

He turned away, leaving Tommy to his thoughts. A month, he thought. Only a month left to go. College had never felt so far away, though. He just couldn't wait to get away from these people.

That was yesterday. The longing to escape had only intensified now that he had the house to himself. He could do anything he wanted. He could watch TV, or he could read. His parents would have wanted him to catch up on his summer Bible studies, but he couldn't be bothered. He just wanted to do... nothing.

Looking outside the window, the pool suddenly looked inviting. It was a warm, sunny day, and he hadn't used it in ages. He'd started avoiding it whenever the twins were around. Twelve-year old girls can be quite cruel and judgmental.

Unsure of how long he had before the brood came back, he hurried to grab a towel, lotion, sunglasses, and his swim trunks. Red and baggy, they hung awkwardly on his slender body but he didn't care. He walked around to the sunny side of the poolside and lay the towel down and spread it out. He had been taller than the towel for a few years and he gingerly placed his feet on the bare concrete. He wondered if he would ever start to feel comfortable in his own body.

Even with the towel, the concrete felt hard and uncomfortable. He tried lying on his stomach but that was worse, so he flipped over onto his back again. The late morning sun hadn't reached its peak yet, though, so the warm rays felt comfortable on his skin.

He let his mind wander in the quiet. No yelling. No screaming. No parents calling for him to do chores. Best of all, no twins. He was alone. Wonderfully, magically, gloriously alone.

Before long he realized that he needed to put the sunblock on. He was starting to get comfortable and figured that if he didn't start moving he might not get to it at all, but sunburns weren't fun and he definitely didn't want to go through that again. Squirting a large pool of lotion in his palm, he then began rubbing down the lotion across his body. He tried to get to the skin of his thighs by riding up the trunks and putting his fingers as high up under the fabric as he could go.

Man, that was awkward. He should have put the lotion on before he put on his trunks. If only he could take them off altogether. That would make it so much easier!

Well, why not? He knew he was alone, but he couldn't help himself but look side to side to see if there was anyone around. Satisfied, he grinned to himself. It was so bad.

Grinning like a fool, he pulled his swim trunks down and kicked them off. He grabbed the lotion and started putting it on the parts of his thighs and hips that had been covered by the trunks. He felt incredibly naughty. It was like a giant 'screw you' to the world. He didn't even have a reason why it felt wrong to do it, just that he knew that if he were caught he'd be in some kind of trouble.

God, if the twins saw, he'd never hear the end of it. He could just imagine their friends giggling at him with knowing looks whenever they came over. The embarrassment and shame would be almost too much to bear. If he was still in high school it would have made his life a living hell. It was almost enough to get him to put his trunks back on.

Almost.

The lotion covered parts of his flesh that didn't normally get attention. His hips seemed to tingle as the sun mixed with the fluid, and his thighs parted so that he could reach inside. He brought his hands around his groin to make sure that the area around his waist was protected as well. All in all, he managed to avoid any 'inappropriate' touching. For the moment.

Naturally, though, his body responded. Normally he wasn't afforded any privacy - not with his parents' "open door policy." Plus, he was eighteen. Of course his body responded.

He felt himself growing, and the head moved across his thigh as it tried to straighten out. The skin on skin contact only served to arouse him more, and even though he avoided touching himself, he was soon completely hard. His penis had rolled into a natural twelve-o-clock position bouncing off the flat of his stomach, the head bobbing just above his navel.

Can't get sunburn there, he thought, and put some lotion on his hands and worked it into his erection. He felt so depraved. It wasn't his first time, of course, but it was his first time outside in the middle of the day where anyone could see. If there had been anyone around to see.

Tommy placed his hands down by his sides on the towel, fighting conflicting feelings. It had felt good - so good - to put the lotion on. He could look down his body and the glossy sheen from the lotion hadn't yet completely absorbed into his skin. It had felt cool when he put it on, but the warming sun had started to react with it and he could feel his body start to perspire.

He was acutely aware of his nakedness. Once again he contemplated getting up and putting his trunks back on. It would have been safer, to be sure. If his mom and siblings returned sooner than he expected, at least he wouldn't have to explain his secret debauchery. That would mean that he could hide his massive erection that didn't seem to want to go down.

His body seemed to draw his attention to his cock like a lightning rod. The growing warmth from the sun was covering him like a blanket. The lotion seemed to electrify his nerve endings, and he felt a rush of goose-pimples involuntarily flush over his body.

The sun seemed to activate all of his nerve endings. He traced the reaction from his fingertips up his arms, across his chest and then downwards. At the same time, a wave of inexplicable sensitivity rushed upwards from his toes across his thighs towards his groin.

He felt his balls retract as the sensation zeroed in. His cock twitched, lifting off his stomach. It called to him, aching and sore and begging to be touched. It had a complete mind of its own. Touch me!

His arm moved on its own accord, but he stopped himself and willed it to return to his side. Tommy couldn't escape the feeling of guilt that his parents had instilled in him. This was wrong. These thoughts were wrong. His erection was wrong. Giving in to his hormones and lust was wrong. He felt deep pangs of guilt course through him just as strong as his arousal level.

Still, it wouldn't go away. He tried to will himself for it to go down, let him lie in the sun in peace. He had already broken too many taboos just by being outside - under God and the Universe - stark naked and aroused.

Baseball. That was supposed to work, right? Fielding ground balls. Batting practice. Running around the bases. First... Second... diving head first into Third. Second base is touching a girl's breasts. Third base meant getting into her pants. Diving head first meant...

The metaphor did what it always did to young men. It made things worse.

His cock leapt again as if to say I told you so. With his hands by his sides, and his dick reacting on its own, it truly did feel as if he had absolutely no control over this monster. There he was, suntanning on the poolside blanket, and then there was this alien being rising from between his legs as vicious and unstoppable as a Ridley Scott nightmare.

The struggle became a battle. Then a full-scale war.

You can't do this.

Why not? Nobody's home.

It's wrong.

Yeah, but who would know?

It's not wrong just because no one sees you.

Why is it so wrong? Who am I hurting?

What if someone sees you?

There's no one here. And besides, don't I deserve this?

They won't like it.

It's not up to them. Fuck them!

With that, Tommy had driven himself though his frustration towards rebellious anger. Who were his parents and his siblings to invade his thoughts? This was his time, his private time. Time for himself. He had been the dutiful son, and yet it were those bratty twins that had gotten all the credit and the respect - love! - from his parents. Why should he suffer?

The sun wasn't helping. Unconstrained from his typical clothing and exposed, the sun's rays warmed him. He felt the underside of his cock react to the heat, a place that usually had no direct sensation whatsoever. Now, though, the stimulation was almost like its own caress.

He hadn't realized that his hand had moved from the blanket onto his hip. His fingertips had gotten so close to the crevice in his thigh that he only had to stretch to feel the strange shift in texture of the flesh between the root of his cock and the additional folds of his balls.

Slowly, agonizingly, he felt his hand touch the skin as if it was moving of its own accord and he was but a mere observer. The fingers slid across the soft flesh, which moved against the hard iron underneath. It felt like from inside the erection came its own longing and anticipation.

He knew that he wasn't going to stop as soon as his thumb tucked underneath the root. His pointer finger completed the circle and his remaining fingers rested atop his balls, and he squeezed.

The relief was instantaneous, followed by an even stronger longing. He began pulsing his hand, imagining that he was pushing the blood towards the head to make it bigger. The lotion hadn't completely absorbed yet, though it was close. He probably only had a few more moments before he'd have no more lubricant and it would start to chafe.

He took those moments to drag his fist upwards towards the head, brining his cock up from his stomach until it was pointing straight up towards the sky. Towards God.

Thank you, God, Tommy thought. Thank you for this blessing.

Pride was a sin. Everyone knew that. But how could you not be proud with the gift he had? How could he not give thanks to He who had bestowed such generosity? He wished he didn't have to hide it from everyone. He wished that he could show his gratitude without the need to pretend that God hadn't smiled upon him when He created him in his mother's womb.

Some more lotion and Tommy couldn't stop himself. He was able to take both of his hands now and wrap them around his cock, one on top of the other, and still see the angry purple head reaching for the sky. He teased himself with tiny massaging squeezes, rather than pumping himself through his palm. It brought him close but not to the point of losing control.

This was a rare treat. He didn't know when he was going to be able to do this again. He never had the time to himself, and he wanted to make this count. He lived in a crowded house and was going to have two roommates in college. Privacy was something he couldn't take for granted.

Sure, he could get it over and done with, but it would have been a waste of an opportunity. He always had the best orgasms when he reached a point where he couldn't physically stop himself, when he lost all control and his body simply took over.

Today felt like one of those days. On the rare enough occasions when he could hide in the bathroom or jack off in the shower, he simply stroked himself to completion in order to get the relief. Immediately afterwards, though, he always felt cheated somehow. Then he felt guilty. That made him not want to even bother again... until the pressure got to be too much once more and he found himself in the same cycle all over again.

This was different. This was a pure exploration of time. He didn't have to feel rushed, didn't have to feel like he was about to be caught. He didn't have to feel cheap or that he was giving in to his hormones like his Bible study teacher had talked about. Sure enough, he was able to touch himself without the lingering feeling of doubt and guilt. He could explore all that God gave him without any fear or anxiety about being judged or seen.

What Tommy didn't know, though, was that there was someone who could see him. She was watching intently, and she was ashamed. She was ashamed on his behalf, and she was ashamed because she could not stop watching him.

Margaret Keenan wasn't supposed to be home in the middle of the day. On any other day she would have been filing papers at the office or calling delinquent accounts. It was only sheer, dumb luck that she had not only been home but also had been passing by the second floor window that overlooked the Drew's pool.