tagGay MaleThe Vacation House Ch. 13

The Vacation House Ch. 13

by1Puck1©

Tears streaming down my cheeks, stain the soft cotton fabric of the pillow. Head buried and my cheek pressed firmly into it's firmness.

Burning, aching pain generating through very tender flesh. Ashamed, worried, so much head noise. Doubts flooding my mind as I replay the disturbing happenings of a day gone very, very wrong.

Gut wrenched, twisted, sour to the point of vomiting. Gasps of air burn into my lungs, hyperventilation, dizziness, darkness, lonely, whispers surround me as I watch myself fall into a well of near despair.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Waken from nothingness, a complete lack of dreams, knocking permeates the cotton candy fluffiness of mornings haze. Jumping up, grabbing the shorts at the foot of my bed, slipping feet then legs into their softness, comfort, security, protection against an attack that might befall me once again.

The door slowly opens, a large dark skinned well manicured hand appears on the inside of the fresh white painted surface. Fingertips pressing against solid wood, motion, a foot, leg, entire outline of Lee Townsend standing firmly, no smile, eyes gazing downward, obvious uncomfortable tension written all over his face.

"Morning, RJ. Sorry to wake you so early, would you mind a little comforting? I can only imagine how hurt, well maybe even betrayed you must be feeling. May I?"

How stunned I feel, this is nothing like the tormented scenario's that played over and over in my head before sleep took pity on me last night.

"Yeah, come on in, take a seat Lee."

Lee looks me in the eyes for the first time this morning, moves very slowly toward my disheveled bed. He extends his left arm, places his large hand on the nape of my neck. Slowly sitting down along side me, pulling me into an assuring, no comforting embrace of my dried tear crusted cheek against his massive shoulder.

Placing the side of his jaw against the top of my head, "sigh" slow rubbing of my neck and shoulder muscles. Relaxation overwhelms me, I give in to the tenderness that I so need.

I barely open my mouth, words just about form.

"Shhhhh. You don't have to say anything, I understand, it's going to be OK, trust me, things are not always what they seem to be."

Buried firmly in his musky scent, flawless glistening dark skin, every inch Macho yet so very nurturing. Resistance is the furthest thought.

"RJ, your Dad was very upset last night, he must have seemed angry with you at the moment but that was not him, he was hurt, devastated that you could not trust in him enough to tell him the truth."

My head moves, eyes look at Lee's full dark chocolate cherry colored lips. Brilliant white teeth in even rows glistening in the morning light. Peppermint toothpaste scent mingles with natures morning muskiness. It is intoxicating, stimulating.

"You might not believe this but he cried for an hour last night before I was able to convince him to go to bed. I knew he would see things differently from a new days perspective. He'll be fine, he is more worried about you though, he would not stop expressing how he wished he could have taken it all back, how he should have been the adult and handled the situation rationally. He knows that his temper gets the better of him, impulsive but who am I telling this to? You know him better than anyone, right?"

Clearing my throat, searching for my voice among the blanket of confusion and anxiety.

"Yeah, well, I thought I knew him Lee. Guess I was wrong. I'm an idiot sometimes, should have known better than to lie to him. He doesn't deserve that kind of disloyalty. He's been there for me every second of my life, what do I do? Treat him like a fool. He's no fool, I'm the real fool."

"C'mon, you're a kid, no wait, you are a young man who is still learning, developing, making mistakes on your own. We all make mistakes, make them every day of our lives. What makes us grown and mature is how well we handle our mistakes, the decisions we make to lessen the mistakes that we will ultimately make."

This guy is some sort of prophet of street learned wisdom. For the very first time since finding out about the connection between Dad and Lee, I realize it is not the physical attraction that binds these two powerful men to each other, it is their passion, caring, understanding of what is inside the other, not what is shown on the outside.

"Lee, please tell me, what can I do? I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't mean to hurt anyone! I've gotta tell you, you're gonna find out anyway, it was my fault that Tag is injured. I tried to hide it from Dad, well and you. Guess, I have some real growing up to do, huh?"

"Ya think?"

Snorting, tossing his head in a movement of knecktadude I normally associate with cocky woman. A smile broadens on his face, transforms the look of worry to one of understanding, genuine happiness.

"Go, get yourself cleaned up, I have some work to do on your Dad. He has not even gotten up yet, so unlike him but this has been a traumatic experience for him too. I'll see you when you are cleaned up, I just want to let you know that I took the liberty of going in and getting Tag's dirty cloths, they are in the wash right now. I left him a pair of my shorts, shirt and socks. Heck, didn't think that one through, huh? (chuckles) All he needs is 1 sock. That would have been easy, that Dryer of yours seems to eat just one of every other pair of socks I put in it."

Stands, turns, walks out into the hallway. Turns his head over his shoulder, a re-assuring wink, door closes for privacy. I exhale.

The warm Ivory soap filled air hangs low in the guest bathroom, I reach for the thick terry cloth towel, wrap it around my narrow waist. Standing before me, my reflection partially obscured by condensation of moisture on the glass mirror above the vanity. Reaching for the blow dryer, throwing the switch, air rushes out of the nozzle, chest, chin, mouth, eyes, me...

A gentle knock moves my gaze from my own reflection to that of the bathroom door behind me.

"C'mon in, I'm decent."

The door opens slowly, pushed by the rubber tipped end of a brushed aluminum crutch. God he looks like he's been run over by a bulldozer. Gaze travels down Tag's form, stops on the heavily bandaged, braced lower leg.

"God, that's got to hurt, huh?"

Our eyes meet in the mirror, his very bleary, bloodshot, lines on his cheek from where he must have lay one side of his head against the pillow all night long.

"Jeezus! I feel like CRAP! Splitting headache, have anything to take life a little more bearable? Alieve?"

"WoW, you do look like crap, sorry bout that but I have to call this one as I see it. How'd you sleep last night? Is your ankle better, worse than yesterday?"

"I have no idea, I was so out of it after we got to the hospital last night that I really don't remember anything after they gave me a shot. By the way, were are my cloths? How did I get in bed and please tell me that you didn't have to undress me and pour me in there."

"Nah, you made it all on your own power, actually I was really impressed with how well you handled yourself. I would never in a million years have imagined that you were stoned out of your mind. Oh, and your cloths are in the wash, Lee got them this morning, you must have gotten yourself undressed and poured yourself into bed all by your lonesome self."

"Thank god! At least I left myself with some dignity."

His hand raised, rubs the face where lines are impressed, moving fingers to the side of the closely cropped hair, scratches violently.

"My head itches, hope I didn't get bed bugs or lice. Never know who sleeps in a bed before you, what they might have left behind as a little gift."

Picking up the washcloth from the vanity, turning, tosses it as hard as I can. It lands softly on Tag's head, drapes itself over his right eye.

"Aye, matey, I'm Peg Leg Pete, I'm here to rape your woman and plunder your booty."

Laughing out-loud, I am sure he has absolutely no idea how that sounds. Plunder my BOOTY? Yeah, not likely, he's not into that, I am damned sure of it. Tag is so straight, comfortable in his own skin that he does not even realize how little things like that being said could be taken so far out of context.

"Well Pete, sorry to say, don't think you are much of a match for the Lone Ranger! With my trusted side kick Tonto, my hearty steed Silver, we can out-crawl you in a one legged race."

"Yeah, got me there, you mind if I take a shower? How about the Alieve?"

"Damn, nearly forgot, the Doctor gave you a prescription yesterday that I filled for you, well me you at the hospital pharmacy. You have to take it with food though, so why don't you get into the shower and I'll get you something to take the pill with. I'll be back in a minute, you need anything before I go?"

"Yeah, but nothing that you can do for me. Now, Melanie is hidden around here somewhere, that would be another story."

"Dude! Get in the shower."

Remembering the Dr.s instructions about keeping the brace dry, I bend forward, reach into the empty small plastic garbage can, pull out the plastic grocery bag lining the inside, stands up, turns toward my friend.

"Here, put this over the splint, the Doctor said you have to keep the splint dry. I'll put it on for you.

Kneeling down before Tag's naked muscular bulk, my eyes trying to avoid looking at his crotch. Fingers fumble with the plastic bag as he leans against the fiberglass wall, lining the glass shower enclosure. He stands on one leg, lifting his injured one a few inches, just barely enough for me to slip the bag over his bandaged foot and ankle. I tie it pretty tight, not so tight as to restrict blood flow, just enough to keep water from seeping in and getting the bandages and splint wet.

"There you go Tonto, now wash off the filth that you are.. Maybe, Melanie will like you better if you didn't smell like an ole Mule."

"Get out, will ya? The pill, how's bout that? Make yourself useful or something."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's all I am to you, get me this, get me that, never once would you think of sending me flowers or a simple I Love You!"

"GET OUT! You are such a jerk sometimes, you know that?"

"Yeah I do. Why do you think I hang out with someone like you in the first place.. Gotta be something wrong with me."

The bar of Ivory Soap hits the wall, missing my head by less than an inch! I swear I could hear it whistle through the air as it barely missed hitting it's intended target.

Rushing out the door, slamming it behind me, I run down the hallway. The kitchen comes into view. The opened Newspaper at the end of the scrubbed wood table brings me back to reality.

"SHIT!"

The newspaper slowly lowers itself to half it's vertical height, folding at the center, Dad's wide eyes, unsmiling face presents itself.

Feet shuffling forward, take me toward my destiny. Heart beating, ears burning, stomach fluttering with the wings from millions of tiny butterfly's.

Lowering myself onto the long bench seat, sliding Terrie cloth covered cheeks across the smooth wooden surface, comes to a stop just at the very edge. A muscular leg presses firmly against my long limb, extending from my hip. The sensation of skin touching skin sends fireworks upward to my barely cloaked crotch.

The newspaper lays gently against the surface of the table. Massive bear paws extend from the block like form before me, reaching out, take me into their embrace, pull me into the musky scent, man, freshly soap washed skin, loving embrace, pure loves embrace.

My head is buried into the heavily fur covered chest, muscular, firm, warm, heart beating loudly, rising up, down, rubbing it's coarseness against the side of my smooth shaved face. The jaw of my bear like Dad, pushes against soft crew cut cropped hair of my head. Tears build up in my heart before they make their way to my eyes, cheeks, mingle with the scent of protector.

Instinctively, my arms wrap around his body, fingertips press into the hard earned muscular back of the man embracing me, salvaging my wishes that I would be still loved, still be the son I so wished I could still be. Fingers running over rippling scapula, butterflied back, furrow over the spine, tentatively rests at the furrow of the cleft of two mounds of flesh pushing upward.

My penis is stretching against it's own skin sleeve, threatens to burst out from beneath the towel, no longer hiding, boldly rising upward, nearly touching the underside of the tabletop.

Those massive bear paws lower themselves downward, grip my firm hockey created butt cheeks. Fingers digging into soft flesh, pull, tug, separate flesh from flesh, expose the tender pucker of my hole to the fluffy softness of fabric. I let one hand travel across the line that separates torso and haunch, follow it's pathway to the very course forest of pubic hair, daringly wrap themselves partially around the monstrous mass of erect flesh protruding, pounding, pulsing manhood.

Gripping hold as if my life depending upon the pillar of life withing my grasp, sliding outward toward the cloaked mushroom head, one fingertip daring to play with the large slit at the very end of muscle, slippery, wet, playing with the gaping entrance, attempts to push itself into the depths of the heavily skinned Italian sausage of desire.

Dad exhales, his head drops back, mouth agape. I raise my head upward from the firm pillow of chest hair to take in every bit of him that I can fill my mind with. Fingertip playing mercilessly, invading the ever expanding opening of his turgid monolith of desire, pre-cum lubrication assisting with the entrance of it's virginal passageway.

Maneuvering myself from the once seated position at the precipice of the wooden bench, moving one long leg across his outstretched legs, the other allowing me to pivot my lower body onto his lap. My hand never leaving his penis opening, the other fingers release their death grip, allowing my own rock hard penis to be pulled into a one fisted embrace, flesh against flesh, firmly held together by one hand. The Terrie cloth towel slips from my slender hips, slides down his fur covered thighs, over his knees, fall to his feet.

Our eyes meet, lock into each others stare. Full lips part, Dad moves his head toward me, my eyes crossing, double vision, forehead to forehead, flesh to flesh, heat against heat, hands holding firmly on the flesh of the other.

"Lee's gone to the site, won't be back until this afternoon." Breathlessly, softly, assuring voiced words. "I'm sorry, so very sorry Robbie. I never meant to hurt you, never. I'm so sorry, you are everything to me. I love you more than life itself. Please forgive me?"

Mixed with so many emotions, my lips ravish his, press so hard against his, tongue invades his parted lips as words dared to leave him. The tip of my tongue playing forcefully with his, slide over each and every one of his teeth, attempts to trace the inside, explore every surface before unexplored by me. Fingertip continues it's pursuit to invade the slit at the center Dad's penis, my pulsing rod firmly planted against his, swollen balls buried in muscular flesh, pools of flesh and sweat mingling to become one mass.

Mouths separate, I shiver, blurt.

"Dad, no, I'm so sorry, I never should have lied to you, NEVER! I wish I could take it all back, make it right. I love you so much, I want you so badly, I can't believe I did this to you. You don't deserve what I did, you don't deserve a son who can't be as you are. You deserve everything, I just fucked everything up, everything!"

"Shhhh, it's OK, you made a mistake, we all make mistakes. Please Robbie, you have to stop, we can't, we can't do this... Your friend, he could walk in, please Robbie, I love you but, we can't, I won't jeopardize you for my own lack of control."

"Fuck it, I won't Dad, you have to, I have to, please, please, do me, now."

Breathing so heavy, heat of passion running my senses, there's no way of turning back now, have to have him, HAVE TO HAVE HIM IN ME, NOW!

"God dammit, I want you so badly, you have no idea how badly I want you. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you little son of a bitch, I'm gonna show you how much I love you. I'm gonna fuckin rip you to pieces, gonna make you beg me for more, gonna MAKE YOU give me more than you can give me, I'm gonna take you, make you mine, give you what ever you want from me, take you."

He stands up from his chair, wood scraping against wood as it slides along the floor. Arms wrapped around me bear hugging me, fingertips digging into my burning flesh, I wrap my legs around his waist, cross at the ankles, hold on dearly as he navigates toward the master bedroom. Door forces open, enters, kicks it closed with the heal of his foot, never loosing balance, carries me across the room, peels me from his body, I am torn away, tossed forcefully onto the mattress. I bounce twice before coming to a fully exposed prone position, legs, arms spread eagle, eyes fixed madly upon the outline of man before me.

Anticipation runs rampant through my body, my legs instinctively raise, feet thrust high in the air, hands grabbing taught muscles, back of my thighs pulled across the side of my jaw line. Knee's press into the surface of the king sized mattress. Cool air plays across my exposed ass hole, begging mercilessly, forcing itself to open up.

His eyes leave mine, a mighty paw lowers, grabs his protruding dick, fists it forcefully along the entire length, slamming back against the thick bush of black pubic hair. A long line of glistening pre-cum drips out of the piss slit, like a spiderweb, makes it's way toward the floor. His saucer-like black eye's drop, my gaping hole reflected in them. I can actually see the reflection of my own ass-hole in his burning eyes.

Desire covers his face, his face moves closer, closer, disappears between the mounds of nearly hairless muscular ass cheeks before him. I look downward along my rippled stomach, my penis pointing skyward, leaking fluid, drooling down it's length, disappearing into the soft golden manicured hair at it's base.

My balls are pushed upward, protrude from the skin that covers them, Dad's nose firmly pressing them up from his brow. Tender flicks of tongue tantalizes, opens me, muscles relax, allow greater access to depths of desire. I push my hips toward the face that laps, teases my ass-hole.

Seconds becoming minutes, minutes blurring into eternity, desire over-rides everything, thought, sight, all encompassing passion, desire, need, want.

"Please, don't stop, please Dad. I'm yours, use me, rape me, take me, make me yours, do what ever you want to do to me. I have to have you take it from me."

Pressure along side the flicking slickness of the tongue at my hole, forcing it's way, inside with mighty force. My mind's eye pictures the three upturned fingers, slamming to the knuckle deep inside my guts.

Tongue slides it's length under the inside area between my ass-hole balls. Pressure building, stretching, sliding in, out, in, slamming against the ever expanding, stretching lips of my ass, my muscle inside my hole contracting, stretching painfully yet contracting again as fingers withdraw my depth's, tongue never leaving it's playful play along the inside of my hole.

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