Duke - Book 1: Alpha Rising (Chapter 4 of 8)
An erotic drama, with laughter and tears, his story will touch you, and have you touching yourself.
Two worlds collide as Duke has to tell his boyfriend Mike his secret, that not only can he change into a black German Shepherd, but also that the Irish Setter he brought home from his family vacation is actually his lover Rourke.
Rourke, a 'purist', his primitive people brutalized him for being gay. By becoming his 'Alpha', Duke rescued him, but to remain an 'Alpha' Duke has to lead a pack. The machinations of the 'purists' not only lead Duke to gather a pack, but also to take action that will have far-reaching ramifications.
For Duke to tell Mike his secret, they have to mate. Their love on the line, the real threat comes from within, as another competes for Duke's affection.
Animal experimentation, a knife-wielding homophobe, a local whore, and an ailing grandparent who has to pass along his gift of 'change' add to his troubles, but a hundred year old tortoise with a secret comes to his aide.
Love it or hate it, I'd appreciate your comments!
(Story begins here: )
(Chapter 1 )
(Chapter 2 )
(Chapter 3 http://www.sofurry.com/page/284712)
** DUKE**
Book 1: Alpha Rising
by scavola
_____
CHAPTER 4
Yip behind me, and Mike under me, I held a crouched position, tense, a little uncomfortable. Yip stayed still while Mike arched his back off the floor in long thrusts. For Yip, this was Mike sharing his mate, both of them inside me, rubbing together, closer than they'd ever been. For Mike this was something to try, but not a challenge to come through my thighs. For Rourke, this was the reason for the hard-on he stroked and the fanged grin on his face.
_____
Mike watched as a small Irish Setter/Beagle mounted a large black German Shepherd mounting a larger Irish Setter. The Irish Setter/Beagle on his hind legs, almost standing, his paws clenched the black German Shepherd. The black German Shepherd, bent over, his paws clenched the Irish Setter. The Irish Setter, on all fours, humped a large, stuffed bear.
_____
We were, obviously, happy, so you know it didn't last . . .
_____
The week before finals, we, go figure, studied. With all our books and notes spread out, we needed room, so Rourke and Yip did their 'homework' outside. At the patio table, unchanged, in running shorts, they soaked up the sun, their strong and lean bodies reddened and tanned, glistening with sweat . . .
"Dude, focus," Mike said, elbowing me. "Describe the two methods of estrus synchronization."
I had no idea what estrus synchronization was. Saved by the bell, my phone rang, a special ringtone, nothing fancy, just some funky beeps. I grabbed it, threw myself on to the couch, and answered as I typically do for this person, "what do you want?"
"Duke, this is Dustin." Duh, I thought, Caller ID, but I gave him a break, cell phones were still new to him. "I . . . she . . ." I scrambled, sitting up, this didn't sound good, he didn't sound good, voice weak, quavering. "She hit me Duke."
"Go to my house," I said. Mike joined me, standing over me.
"I can't, she'd look for me there."
I turned on speakerphone. "Where are you?"
"I'm . . . Duke . . . I think I'm hurt, I'm bleeding . . ."
His phone made a thud.
"Dustin!" I shouted in to the phone, "Dustin!"
Mike grabbed his phone. "Don't hang up; they might be able to use the signal to locate him." He dialed nine-one-one.
Rourke burst inside, Yip following.
"Duke," he cried, "what wrong Dustin?"
"Dustin!" I yelled, repeatedly.
With me yelling so loud, Mike stepped to the bedroom.
"Duke, what wrong?" Rourke asked frantically.
"I don't know, I don't know . . ." I broke down, sobbing.
Rourke, tears in his eyes, took over calling for Dustin. Yip sat by me, holding me. Mike came back, shaking his head.
"Get dressed," I said, "we're leaving."
_____
Mike drove, I called Dad on the way. I listened as he knocked on Dustin's door and his mother answered, drunk, ". . .ask your faggot son, he probably has him, fucking him up the ass . . ." I listened as he pushed past her, running through the house, calling for him, just in case.
"Duke," he said, "I found a bloody knife."
She didn't hit him; she stabbed him.
Mike called his dad.
_____
By the time we got to my house, three squad cars were parked in Dustin's driveway, lights flashing brightly in the twilight. Cops pulled Dustin's mom, still in her retail smock, from her house. As Mike stopped the car, I lunged out.
"He's the faggot, arrest him!" She managed to break free an arm, pointing my way accusingly. "He seduced my son and used him for sex!"
"You fucking drunk . . ." I started over, but Dad grabbed me by the shoulders. "I'm gay, I'm not an animal!"
"He bought him clothes, and underwear!" She lunged towards the house. "I'll show you, I found them!"
"I gave him the underwear my mom bought me. He still had on the 'underoos' you got him when he was like ten, when you were still his mother!"
"He bought him a phone to talk faggot to him!" She put her fingers to her ear like a phone. "Dustin, I love you!"
"I got him a cell phone so I could be there for him because you weren't!"
"Enough," Dad said, "she's not worth it."
She cackled as they bent her down, set her in the back seat, and slammed the door.
Dad relaxed his grip, I broke away, charging the squad car, but Rourke grabbed me. "Duke, no, find Dustin," he said as I struggled. I dropped my shorts and changed. Rourke held me to the ground. "No Duke," he said, "no collar."
"Where's that guy who was just here?" A cop crossed the lawn to Dad. "If there's any truth to her accusations . . ."
"There's no truth to them officer," Dad replied, next to me, having pulled off my shirt.
"Where is he?" the cop asked sternly.
"He ran off that way," Mike said, pointing behind our houses.
Rourke didn't trust me, so he scooped me up, carrying me inside. I unchanged and we gathered in the living room, lit by the television on mute.
"What you did was stupid, reckless," Dad said.
"Nobody saw him," Mike replied.
"What were you thinking?"
"He wasn't thinking, but we need a plan if we're going to find Dustin." His brow furrowed. "You'll go out in pairs, first Duke and Yip, and then Mr. Smith and Rourke. Duke has Dustin's scent, between the two of you," he said, pointing to Dad and Rourke, "you can find it." They started stripping.
Mom joined us, timidly stepping downstairs. "What can I do?"
"I need you to coordinate; we'll strap phones to your collars." Mike strapped my phone to my collar and Dad's to Rourke's, Dad didn't wear a collar and Rourke didn't have a phone. "Call here every 'even' ten minutes." He handed mine to me. "Call here every 'odd' ten minutes." He handed Rourke's his.
Putting on our collars, we changed. Mike knelt and kissed me on my muzzle. "I'll coordinate with my dad." He stood, swatting me on the butt. "Now go!"
_____
I circled Dustin's house. His scent went off both towards the woods and the road. He wouldn't head off to 'our place', too obvious. I called in, telling Dad to go that way; I'd try the road.
Once I determined his scent headed towards the convenience store, I ran. He had to have gone there, where there were people and food . . . but he didn't have any money. I didn't find his scent outside the store. I called in and doubled back.
German Shepherds are strong and smart, but Irish Setters and Beagles had better noses. Yip picked up his scent and followed it across the road to a field. I couldn't think of anything over here, anywhere he'd go. I called in and we followed the trail.
The trail meandered along the road, crossed back over, and we ended up where we started, a dead end. The best bet still the store, if his trail stopped on the way, he could have gotten a ride. I decided to head back, get changed, or 'unchanged', fuck, put clothes on, and check it out. I called in and we headed home.
At the next ten-minute mark, we were still on our way back, Yip rechecking the trail in the field, just in case. When I called in, Mom said Dad found Dustin's phone. Barking at Yip, I changed and bolted. Headlights were the last thing I remember.
_____
I woke up strapped to a cold metal table. The room bright, I squinted. The back of a woman's pants, sniffing, I recognized Mom, arguing with someone.
"Look," she said sternly, "I know he's a beautiful dog, and, believe me, he's a good dog, but I won't pay that kind of money." The man mumbled. "I'm no vet but dogs heal well on their own, he'll be fine." The man mumbled louder, raising his voice. "I appreciate the offer but no, I'm taking him home." Mom crossed her arms. "I'm taking him home, now."
They gently moved me to a stretcher, but I winced, a sharp pain in my leg. They carried me out to Mom's car, I could tell, it smelled like baby. Mom talked to another man as she drove away.
"Duke, listen to me," Dr. Holstein said, leaning over the back seat, "I'm going to give you a shot, a painkiller. You will pass out, but before you do, I need you to unchange, can you do that for me?"
I nodded 'yes', waited for the drug to kick in, all warm and cozy, and unchanged. From either the pain or the drugs, I passed out.
_____
I woke up strapped to a bed, a hard bed. The room bright, I squinted. I saw an angel, a fair-featured man with a halo; he put his hand to my chest.
"Try not to move," Mike said.
"Dus . . ." My throat too dry to talk, Mike put a straw to my mouth and I drank. Clearing my throat, I said, "Dustin."
"Actually, if you can turn your head a little," he said, helping me. To my side, Dustin slept in a bed like mine. "And a little this way," he said, helping me again. In front of me, Yip, in a bed, Rourke at his side, they were both unchanged.
Mike told me I was hit by a car, my hip fractured and left leg shattered, it could have been much worse. Yip swiped the phone from my collar, headed in to the field, unchanged, and hit redial as he'd seen me do. Mom got to the scene of the accident, but not before the car that hit me drove off with me inside.
She refused treatment from the vet to get me to a doctor. Dr. Holstein gave me a shot, changing while injured was quite painful but reparative. My hip and leg healed but only so much, my leg still broken in a couple spots. As I said, it could have been much worse.
Dad and Rourke found Dustin not too much later, passed out from shock, bleeding, but not bleeding out. The dull knife cut in to his back, puncturing his kidney. The other, we found out, had never functioned properly. All of us tested, only one match was found, Yip. The ER doctors gave us our options; Dr. Holstein made the decision.
Mike told me I had to get some sleep, but I made him kiss me first.
_____
Not out of the woods yet, the next morning Mike's dad paid us a visit. His dad, a big man, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a menacing goatee, actually, looked more like me. Mike got his looks from his mom. He sat down with us for an update.
They dismissed Dustin's mother's accusations against me, her word against mine, Dad's, and Mike's dad. She wouldn't let up about her son being sodomized by a werewolf, as she swore she saw me change into a dog, her sanity now being evaluated. He was sure she'd serve time, just not where, in either a correctional facility or a mental institution.
That brought up the question of what to do with Dustin. Following procedure, he would be put in foster care until his mother's trial. After, we could petition for custody, consider adoption, the whole process would take a year or more. So, Mike's dad made an exception, Dustin would be of age by that time, and considering his relationship with our family, he pulled some strings. I have to say, having a powerful lawyer as a father-in-law ain't that bad.
"Hey Dustin," I called from my bed, "want to be my little brother?"
"I already am your little brother," he replied weakly.
"That would make you my brother-in-law," Mike said, then, blushing, turned to his dad.
Rourke, temporarily know as 'Jake', and Yip, grinned their fanged grins.
_____
Later that afternoon, Dustin told us what happened. His mom, for the first time in years, decided to do laundry. In his room, she found his boxers. She searched his closet and found other clothes she'd never seen before, nice clothes, gay clothes. She stormed off in to the woods and found him at 'our place' on his phone, talking to Rob and Rod.
She dragged him back to the house, muttering 'faggot' this and 'faggot' that. She berated him for being a faggot, for letting me do 'faggot' things to him. When she said she was calling the police, he defended me, telling her all the ways I was there for him, and in doing so, giving all the ways she wasn't.
She wouldn't have a child talk to her like that, thinking he was better than she was. She wouldn't have a child who turned faggot, so she stabbed him. Ironically, her actions had him questioning his sexuality more than mine ever did.
"I want to be gay when I grow up," he said.
"Being gay isn't like, 'I want to be a fireman'." Mike, sitting between us, furrowed his brow. "Whether you're gay or not is more like do you prefer chocolate ice cream or vanilla?"
"I like vanilla, with caramel." A rhetorical question, but Dustin answered. "I'd eat chocolate ice cream though."
Mike tried again. "Would you like your caramel sundae with cookie crumbles or peanuts on top?"
"I can't eat peanuts, I'm allergic."
Mike chuckled. "How would you like a biscuit dipped in coffee, covered with runny cream cheese, and sprinkled with cocoa powder?"
"I wouldn't," said Dustin, grimacing, "sounds gross."
"Why?" Mike asked. "Tiramisu is a popular dessert."
"Soggy biscuits and wet cheese, that's just . . ."
"Yuck!" 'Jake' said.
"So are you starting to understand?"
"I guess, but what does being gay have to do with dessert?"
We all laughed, the three of us injured laughed so hard it, well, hurt.
_____
They released me first, my left leg in a cast. They released Yip next, the chance of infection having passed. Dustin was last, they had to be sure he could accept Yip's organ.
He'd be moving in to my room, and I wanted to make sure he was comfortable. Mike, Rourke, Yip, and I headed out; Dad and Mom would bring Dustin later. Mike dropped us off, asking Yip if he'd like to stop by his parent's house with him, to an adamant 'sure'.
When Dustin came home, I was lying in bed waiting for him, a large Irish Setter cuddled up next to me. Rourke would normally leap off the bed and tackle him, but, considering his condition, he let Dustin come to him. I helped Dustin on to the bed, both of us with an 'ouch'.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"For what?" he asked.
"It was my fault." Yes, I was crying again. "If I hadn't given you those clothes or the phone . . ."
"You gave me the clothes and the phone," he said, sighing, "but you didn't make my mom a drunk."
"Yeah but . . ."
He cut me off. "Yeah, if I never knew you, it might not have happened, but if I didn't know you, it could have been a lot worse."
Rourke licked our faces, until Dustin got up with a 'yuck', either from the slobbering or the 'sappy stuff'.
He didn't want much from his old house, only his schoolbooks, and a picture of him, his mom, and his dad, from happier days. He had me grab all the beer in the house, I'm not sure why, maybe because Dad and I drank it, maybe because he wanted to, in some way, take it from her.
I showed him my entire room, every drawer, every box, everything, I wanted him to feel this room was his, ours, but his too. I had nothing to hide, only some pictures in my underwear drawer, Mike and me, some of them naked, nothing he hadn't seen before. From the bathroom cabinet, he grabbed the bottle of baby oil.
"Why do you have baby oil," he said, "are you a baby?"
"Actually, you use it to jerk-off."
He poured some out and then shoved his hand down his pants.
I ruffled his hair. "I'll be downstairs." On my crutch, I hobbled out slowly, shaking my head, grinning.
"Duke," he called.
I hobbled back.
"What's wrong with me?" His pants at his ankles, he was hard; forming at the base of his dick, was a knot.
_____
Once again, Dr. Holstein came to the rescue; we need to get the man a cape, I made a mental note. He explained to Dustin how his condition might happen occasionally and well, he should simply handle it. The 'constriction' wouldn't hurt him, only felt different, more sensitive.
I didn't want 'him' to feel different; I remember I was concerned at his age about being 'normal'. Later, I partially changed myself to show him I 'constricted' too, not much of a lie. I told him it wasn't something to be ashamed of or proud of, only to share, as with everything else, with someone he loved.
Dr. Holstein gave Dad and me the real explanation. A snap decision he made as to whether or not to use Yip's kidney; he figured Dustin would most likely have ended up on a waiting list for months, even years, enduring dialysis. As far as he knew, this side effect wasn't unheard of, just rare, Yip's 'genetic material' exerting itself in Dustin's developing body.
Would Dustin change? No. In the rare instances of this happening, only one area or system of the body would be affected before the body's defenses kicked in. "Be glad he didn't grow a tail," the doctor said. Could he control his 'condition'? Yes, but I'd have to show him how.
This led to a debate of whether or not to tell Dustin about us; in this case, the doctor allowed for a medical exception, no mating required. Dustin would be living with Dad, Mom, and Scout. Mom was certain Scout would 'behave', but having slipped up myself, I wasn't.
This led to another debate about what to do with Rourke and Yip. If we didn't tell Dustin, Rourke would most likely choose to stay changed, continuing to be our 'dog'. Yip, we figured he'd be fine living with Mike.
If we told Dustin, Rourke and Yip could be unchanged, but we wouldn't have room for them. They could both go live with Mike, but would most likely go to Grandpa and Grandma's farm, at least for the summer. While maybe actually best for them, we'd miss them.
With all this debate, I turned to my master debater.
"I'm sorry; I'm only going to think about what's best for Dustin." His brow furrowed. "With his good grades and the scholarship, he could get his GED and start college, moving in with us," away from the possibility of Scout slipping up. "Either at home or at school though, there isn't enough room for all of us. The farm would actually be good for Rourke and Yip. Your grandma could get them through their GEDs and the hard work would be good for them." Grandma was a retired teacher and they'd been complaining lately of 'not providing'. "So it's settled."
"What's settled?"
"Rourke and Yip are going to the farm. Now you have to tell them." I scowled. "Dude," he said, chuckling, "you're their Alpha."
_____
Upstairs, I found Dustin kneeling on the bed, joystick in hand. He jerked it back and forth, tapping the tip with his thumb. Frustration growing, tensing, he leaned forward, holding his breath until he exploded with a heavy sigh.
"Ancient technology," I said, watching the pixilated graphics dance across the screen. The video game system and an old television, the size of a microwave, appropriately, sat on a microwave cart.
"I never had video games so I don't mind." Dustin swapped out cartridges, from a space game to a racing game, handing me a joystick. "Your dad said if I kept my grades up he'd get me a new one."
His side bandaged and my leg in a cast, to get situated on the bed took some effort.
"We're getting ready to go," I said as we selected our cars, "but I have enough time to beat you."
The game worked fine, but the graphics lacked the detail of today's games. Boxes and dots, the crowd in the bleachers, looped as I pushed past the other cars along the track. Dustin mimicked my moves, on my tail the whole way, until I fired a missile at him.
"No fair," he said, scolding as his car blew up. "How'd you do that?"
"You'll figure it out," I said as my car passed the finish line. I dropped the joystick as the screen showed 'REPLAY' and counted down from ten. "All settled in?"
"I unpacked your clothes, your mom gave me a new toothbrush, deodorant, and stuff," he said, looking around my room, "and I put my picture on your dresser." It was next to a few of my family. "I feel like I'm stepping in your shoes." He had on a pair of my flip-flops.
"You've got some time by yourself to get adjusted, but not too much time, we'll be back soon." Grabbing my crutch, I pulled myself off the bed. "If you need anything or want to talk, give me a call." I ruffled his hair. "Little brother . . ."
"Not much bigger brother," he replied, grinning.
With staggered steps, I headed out, the roar of engines behind me.
"When you come back," he called, "bring more baby oil."
_____
In Mike's car, Rourke had an announcement to make.
"Duke, Mike," he said, patting us on the shoulders, "Rourke and Yip go to Grandpa and Grandma Smith's farm."
One eye on the road, the other glanced my way as Mike shook his head, mouthing, 'I didn't say anything'.
I turned to the back seat. "When did you decide this?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Smith house not big enough for Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Scout, Duke, Mike, Dustin, Rourke, and Yip."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded. "Grandma Smith teacher, Grandpa Smith farmer, we learn, we work."
"We'll miss you guys."
He shook his head. "No, you visit."
I smiled; he'd thought this through.
He held out his hand. "Need phone."
I handed him the phone and he called the farm, reaching Grandma. Polite, lots of 'yes Grandma Smith', and concise, 'we good, we strong', he chatted most of the way home. He tapped my shoulder, handing me the phone.
"What did Grandma say?"
"Grandma say good, need strong young men to help poor old Grandpa."
I laughed, I'm sure Grandpa loved that.
_____
Unfortunately, getting hit by a car didn't excuse finals. As they already scheduled make up tests, they had no problem with Mike joining me. That only bought us a few days to study, and to have as much group sex possible before we went our separate ways.
Mike reviewed the material to keep it fresh. Me, I was still trying to cram all the facts and figures in my head. Mike worked out a system; every correct answer got 'hand' from Rourke or, for him, Yip, every incorrect answer, hands off. Yip constantly touching Mike, mostly shoulder and back rubs, Rourke got bored. Though frustrating, I never learned better.
As we took finals, Rourke and Yip started packing, which worked out for us because by the end of the day, between the 'studying' and taking tests, Mike and I were exhausted. Finals 'finally' over and with nothing left but the sheets on the bed, we spent our last night together.
First, we treated ourselves to Thai, Rourke and Yip having enjoyed it so much. Out at dinner, having a good time, I saw Rourke and Yip not as 'purists', but as guys, great guys. They came to us primitive, almost savage, now 'citified'.
After dinner, in bed, I curled in to Rourke, still his first love, and Yip curled in to Mike. Yip wasn't gay, but he sure did have a big man-crush for Mike. Our last night together would be a night he, let's say, in the end, would always remember.
I wanted to watch, so I lay down opposite of Yip, both our feet in the air. Between his little ass cheeks, a bud so small and tight it was lost in his crack. Mike ran his fingers through Yip's fold, prodding, until he found the spot. Licking his finger, he rubbed it, teasing it open, until he fit the tip of his finger.
Mine opened and shut at will.
Gently, Mike worked his way around the rim, prying outward; it winked open and shut, shy. Yip let out a deep breath, now comfortable with the sensation. Mike fit the tips of two fingers, spreading them.
"Duke ready?" Rourke asked. I nodded, his ten inches sliding inside.
Mike was long but not thick, about three fingers wide. As he worked in a third finger, he lubed up his cock, and then swapped the two. His head to Yip's rim, he dripped pre-ejaculate, a trail running down Yip's back.
At a regular pace, Rourke fucked me.
"This is where it might hurt a little," Mike said, rubbing Yip's belly soothingly.
"Duke good?" Rourke asked; I nodded.
Yip grunted as Mike's head pressed, and then disappeared. I watched the pain turn to pleasure, Yip's dick growing hard, standing up. Mike knew better than to give him his full length, stopping at just a poke.
Rourke was swelling inside me; I relaxed my grip.
Mike barely moved, just a slight in and out as Yip moaned. Tugging himself, Yip dribbled cum. Mike pulled out mid-cum, Yip's hole clamping shut. Squirting Yip's crack, cum dribbled down his back.
That did it for me, as I squirted my stomach. Rourke pounded my ass, jolting me, and I felt the tickle of pulsing jets hitting my guts. The four of us piled up, kissing, and that's how we fell asleep.
_____
The next morning, Dad in Mom's sedan and Grandpa in his work truck came by and we loaded up. Rourke kept Grandpa from lifting anything heavy, because he was 'poor' and 'old', which led to a little scuffle. Grandpa proved how 'poor' and 'old' he was by wrestling Rourke to the ground, playfully exerting his 'dominance'.
"Alphas," I said, shaking my head, "if I'm that way when I'm his age . . ."
Mike elbowed me in the gut. "You'd be lucky."
We piled in to the vehicles, Dad, Mike, Yip, and I in Mom's car, Grandpa and Rourke in the truck. That would give Grandpa and Rourke some time to talk and give Yip more time with Mike. Dad had time to update me on Dustin; he'd been a little timid, shy, needed coaxing to relax.
Dustin still in school, we had time to unload and for Rourke and Yip to say their goodbyes. After the ride and talk with Grandpa, Rourke was excited about the farm, so he was only a little teary-eyed at leaving us. I bet Mike five 'I.O.U.s' that Yip would cry, leaving him, but he didn't. Grandpa shooed them in the truck, anxious to get on the road.
We hauled the boxes in to the garage, all the home goods, dishes, glasses, towels, sheets, etc. I took my one personal box upstairs, to find my room not much lived in by Dustin, but it'd only been a week. I opened the box and pulled out a large stuffed bear, Mr. Humpy, actually, Mr. Humpy III, as the first two got, well, used. The rest of the stuff I put away, clothes in our shared closet, socks and underwear in our drawers, toothbrush next to his in our toothbrush holder. I put a new bottle of baby oil in the cabinet, as what was left was gone.
_____
Eyes closed, he kissed me softly and pulled away. We sat in 'our place', well my and Dustin's place. The unseasonably warm temperatures held, still seventy degrees. A sunny day, dust motes filled the air, sparkling clusters floating, magical.
Mike, magical, his blond hair shimmered and his fair skin glowed. He sat cross-legged on the ground, nude, his little ass getting dirty. Eyes closed, he kissed me softly and pulled away. Sometimes we did this for hours.
We wouldn't be living together. As we became 'romantically involved', sleepovers became awkward. Well, being awkward for our parents made it awkward for us. And there was that time my mom walked in on us . . . I cringed.
In shadow, my dark hair and tan skin diminished but not my blue eyes or white teeth as I smiled. I sat on the ground, my cast stretched out, nude, my hairy ass getting dirty. Eyes closed, he kissed me softly and pulled away.
He would stay at his house, not too far away, in his room, or 'rooms', as I called them, my room didn't have a living area with a guest bath. Yes, my man was loaded, but you'd never tell by looking at him, or knowing him. He was still just the kid down the street, only now his house, the 'big house', made ours look, well, diminished.
Eyes closed, he kissed me softly and pulled away. Not about sex, this was about love. Something he liked to do, I could think of worse ways to spend time.
I'd be spending my time in my old room with Dustin. No way would Mom let me stay in our guest room, her pride and joy, nicely decorated and full of tastefully placed knick-knacks. Dad got a king-sized bed for us, which he said filled the room. Most weeks Mike's parents would be away; I'd stay with him then.
Eyes closed, he kissed me softly and pulled away. His phone alarm went off, a quiet tone; Dustin would be home soon. Eyes blinking open, he kissed me hard as he pushed me back on to the ground.
_____
Dustin came home, said 'hi', and ran up to our room to drop off his books. Mike helped me off the couch, and we joined him at the bottom of the stairs as he ran down, grinning. He grabbed Mike and me in a hug, and then we headed out.
"Where are you boys off to?" Mom asked, brandishing a cleaver.
"Um, outside," I said.
"Take your brother so I can get dinner ready."
"I am," I said, putting my arm around Dustin, "he's right here."
"Your other brother," she said, shaking the cleaver at me.
Scout, in the living room, collar off, took tentative steps towards Miss Humpy. Still not sturdy on two legs, she was his motivation. Grabby little hands reached out to her as Dustin swept him off the ground and in to his arms, Scout squealed with glee.
"You be careful with him," Mom called from the kitchen.
Dustin and I rolled our eyes.
We took him to 'our place'. We three sat in a circle as Scout practiced his walking, stepping to each of us. Mike would kiss him on the head, a big 'smack', Dustin would tickle him, and I would lift up his shirt, plant my lips, and blow on his belly. For Mike, he would kiss him back gently, for Dustin he would giggle, for me, he would squeal.
"So," I asked Dustin, "how're you adjusting?"
"It's different, good, but different." He tickled Scout; Scout giggled then headed my way. "Your mom's always home, makes dinner, does laundry, and your dad helps me with my homework." He chuckled.
"What's so funny?" I asked, Scout squealing, heading towards Mike.
"Sometimes your dad, um," he grinned, "at night he walks around naked."
"Yeah, he does that, I do too." He probably caught him coming in from a late night run.
"Do you miss your mom?" Mike asked, patting Scout's bottom as he went to Dustin.
He scoffed. "I've missed her for years." He held Scout's sides, no tickling.
"Hopefully she'll get some help," Mike said.
"Until then, you can get some 'normalcy'." I think that's a word. "If you can call my family normal . . ."
"I'm just glad it's quiet and I can get a good night's sleep." Scout, not being tickled himself, crawled in Dustin's lap, tickling him. It was good to see Dustin laugh.
With a flash of light and a beep, Dad snapped a picture.
"Sorry, your mom made me."
He joined us and we opened up the circle but for no good, Scout ran straight to Dad. He plopped in his lap, scowling, probably pooping.
"Your grandpa called," Dad said, "they got home okay, and your friends, well, Grandma prepared a feast."
"You have friends?" Dustin asked.
"Jake and Yip, from the hospital," I said, throwing a rock at him, he ducked.
"The guy who gave me a kidney?" he asked, I nodded. "Do they make a card for that?"
"If they don't, they should." I made a mental note.
"I'm sure he was glad to help," Dad said.
"We'll go out to the farm when you're done with school," I said, flinching, hit by a rock.
Scout squealed and giggled.
Dad turned to me. "See what you taught him?" He got up, Scout in his arms. "Don't do what Duke does, Duke's bad." He carried him away. "Say it, 'Duke's bad'." He glanced back to me with a grin.
_____
Scout, in his highchair, took one end of the table, mom and Dad at his side. I took the other end, to stretch out my leg, Mike and Dustin at my side. Dinner cleared, Mom set out dessert.
"So how was school today Dustin?" Dad asked warmly.
He sighed. "Actually, I got in trouble, Mr. Smith."
"Was it sex-ting?" Dad frowned. "I'm supposed to talk to you about sex-ting."
"No," Dustin said, chuckling, "I told a girl she was pretty."
"That was nice of you." Setting out plates and forks, Mom smiled.
"She accused me of sexual harassment. I had to go to the principal's office and everything."
"How is that sexual harassment?" she asked.
"I guess I'll find out, I have to write a three-page essay on it."
"I don't think something like that will affect your college applications," Dad said.
Oh, we didn't tell Dustin about his scholarship yet, we didn't want his grades affected, thinking he didn't have to try as hard. And we told him that Rourke went to the farm with our friends. And we told him that the neighborhood stray, as I was sometimes referred to, probably didn't come around as much anymore since Rourke had 'marked' our yard as his. We ended up telling him quite a few lies, each time considering telling him the truth.
"So, what are you two bums going to do all summer?" Dad asked.
We just planned to spend time with Dustin. We talked about the farm, maybe an extended visit. We'd volunteer at the local vet clinic, of course.
"You know, a dog's life," I replied, "nothing to talk about."
"We need to talk about the," Mom said, looking to Dustin, "we can talk later."
"Mom, Dustin knows; he's my best man."
"Oh," she said, smiling politely. "I just have one thing to say about this 'wedding'." She gave Mike and me a sidelong glance, almost a glare, but we didn't flinch. "If you're going through with it," she said, taking a deep breath, "we're going to do it right." She set a binder before us. "You wanted to have it on your birthday, which will be here soon." She flipped through the binder, full of wedding stuff. "We need to make a guest list, select and send out invitations, after we choose a location, and a theme." Knowing Mom, we'd have the best 'wedding' ever.
"Thank you Mrs. Smith," Mike said.
"You should call me," she said, "well, mom sounds childish, and Mother Smith makes me sound Amish . . ."
"What about M.I.L.F.?" Dustin suggested. "Doesn't M.I.L.F. stand for mother-in-law-something or other?"
We laughed, Dad, Mike, and I, as Mom served pie.
_____
The king-size bed did take up almost the whole room. Against the wall by the window, only a small gap was left for making the bed. So large, we had the same fitted sheet but separate top sheets and blankets, a good idea on Mom's part.
I propped myself up on the bed, left leg stretched out in the cast. Dustin sat before me, Indian-style. I had tied, well, a tie around his eyes so he couldn't see; I wanted him to focus. We each had a hand towel, well, handy, with the bottle of baby oil between us. We were, go figure, both naked.
"Now young apprentice," I said, appropriate considering my room, "what you do to get hard, on this you must focus." I guess I forgot who I was talking to; he popped up like a turkey thermometer, only much bigger. "The force is strong within you."
"Shut up," Dustin said, chuckling.
"Begin stroking slowly." We did. "Don't focus on your dick; don't focus on the sensation between your legs." He shot, with a cough, jets of cum. "I guess that's it for the lesson tonight."
"No, I'm ready." He perked right up.
"Begin stroking slowly." We did. "Don't focus on your dick; don't focus on the sensation between your legs. Focus inside. Find the tension, deep inside. To me, it's a growl getting louder and louder," his 'constriction' started forming. "Shove the growl; shove it away, far, far away." He shot, with a cough, one large spurt of cum. "I guess that's it for the lesson tonight."
"No, I'm ready." He perked right up.
"Begin stroking slowly." We did. "As the growl grows louder, shove it away." This time, there was no 'constriction.' "Now focus on the growl, let the growl take you over." His dick looked like it'd swallowed a tennis ball; he stroked slowly, squeezing the knot gently.
For a second, it wasn't Dustin I was watching, just a guy, a good-looking guy with a smooth, tan, supple body, jacking off. I shot, grunting, spurts of cum.
"Is that the end of the lesson?" He was still stroking.
"Yeah, I think I'm done." I wiped my hand on the towel.
"Okay." He shot, with a cough, dribbling cum.
TO BE CONTINUED
(If you'd like to read more, I'd be happy to email the rest,
or it's available as a great little print book on amazon.com for $11.95,
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or as a kindle eBook for $5.95)