Super Jeff

By John Tucker (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Jan 22, 2006

Gay

The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This work is the property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission. HUGs. John Tucker, JETjt @aol.com

SUPER JEFF

Chapter Five

CHRIS' POV

What the fuck?" my mind screamed as I looked at the monitor, seeing the locker room where I had my first real taste of man-sex with Charlie. Jeff was watching,' I realized in shock. `Holy Shit!'

My thoughts made a jumble of my emotions as I considered the implications of my discovery. I felt violated and angry; I knew that not only had Jeff set the whole thing up, he was nonplussed afterward. My first reaction was to leave, yet common sense dictated otherwise. Where would I go? I felt trapped. Tears came to my eyes as I arose from the computer-chair and stumbled to my room. Lying down on my bed, I wept until I fell asleep. In a fitful sleep I dreamt that I was naked, tied-up, spread-eagle on a bed, my arms and legs roped to the four bedposts. I struggled to get free as I saw to my shock the door handle go down, the door swing open, and Jeff stood there grinning, in black leather, whip in hand.

JEFF's POV

Taking two stairs at a time, I bounded up the curved monumental staircase to the upper floor where the bedrooms were located. I noted that Chris' door was closed, but still expected to find him in my room on the computer. I noted that the door to my room was ajar and pushed on it, finding the room empty. Striding over to my computer, I saw that Chris had obviously been there as the chair was pulled back and turned, like he'd left in a hurry. The screen was dark, which was normal as I'd set it to do that when not in use. I laid the package I was carrying on the desk and pushed the chair around to put it back where it belonged. The chair bumped into the retractable keyboard shelf jiggling the mouse that was beside the keyboard. The screen blinked on and I saw that the last icon Chris used was highlighted. Curious, I reached down and clicked the left mouse key, to see what had caused Chris to leave so quickly. The image appeared quickly. I was looking at the locker-room in the exercise building.

`Fuck!' I knew immediately what Chris had seen and why he'd left so suddenly. I turned and headed quickly for his room, praying that he'd not run away. My embarrassment at having been caught was only exceeded by my concern for Chris. Cursing myself for my stupidity, I reached the door to his room and knocked. When I didn't hear a response, nor had the door opened, I grabbed the handle, pushing it down. Swinging the door inward away from me I stepped through the portal, looking around. I saw Chris' form on the bed and as I saw his tear-streaked face, his eyes opened. A look of fear and horror gripped him as he reacted to seeing me, pulling himself into a protective fetal position.

"Chris! What's wrong?" I asked in concerned shock at his reaction.

"GET OUT!" he screamed.

"Hey, I'm sorry^Å." I began

"OUT!" he again shouted, pointing at the door.

Pulling back, I retraced the few steps I'd taken into his space. "I'll be in my room," I said simply. "Again I'm sorry," I added as I backed into the hall pulling his door with me.

I turned toward my room with my head hanging; I pondered what had caused such a violent reaction in him on seeing me. It's not that I didn't expect him to be mad for watching him with Charlie, but the fear that I saw in his eyes had caught me completely off guard. In my entire life I'd never seen a look like that! It was like Chris was haunted and I was the ghost. What happened to my simple life? I wondered. Chris' appearance added an excitement to my life that was unexpected, yet at the same time added complications that I never dreamed of. Was I sorry that we'd taken him in? I didn't think so, but this latest look on his face made me wonder. Maybe there was more to Chris than just a cute young gay guy in need of help. I didn't know.

Re-entering my room, I walked over to my computer desk and sat down. I closed the security program and called up my e-mail. I deleted the spam that I found there and opened a note from my friend Sean. Sean was a football jock I'd known since grade school. His dad owned the local Buick dealership and they did pretty well, I guess. His note said that they were having a beach party on Friday night near Hermosa Beach and I was invited. I replied, telling him I was interested, but that I had a friend staying with me and asked if I could bring him too. I sent it off and closed down the computer.

Pushing back the chair I glanced at my watch. It was 4:45. I wondered when Dad and Mom would be home. I'd forgotten to make dinner reservations, which I normally did when Frank was off. I picked up the `walk-around' phone and dialed my Mom's number.

"Hi Mom," I said when she answered. "Are you and Dad gonna be around for dinner? I need to make reservations if we're going out."

She told me that they would be gone for dinner but should be home around 7:30. She also told me that Dad had met with his lawyer about Chris and that he wanted to talk to us when they got home. I said that we'd go out for dinner, but should be back by the time they got home. She said she had to go but reminded me to be good and take care of Chris. After saying goodbye, she hung up.

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, I again returned to Chris' door. I wanted to work out, but decided that returning to the exercise room right now was not the best of plans.

"Hey Chris," I said loudly as I knocked on the door but didn't open it. "Mom and Dad are going to be gone for dinner. They wanted us to go out and eat without them."

"I'm not hungry," I heard through the door. The voice I heard was not loud, but I didn't detect either the anger or fear that I sensed earlier.

"We don't have to have to go right now," I offered. "It's just that Dad talked to his lawyer and he'd like to meet with us when he gets home about 7:30. I thought we'd go out and eat first."

There was a pause while Chris' mind absorbed my argument.

"Uh, I'll be ready in 15 minutes."

"Okay, I'll meet you downstairs," I said. "I'm wearing shorts. It's not going to be fancy."

I didn't hear any reply, so I returned to my room, made sure my face and hands were clean and my hair tamed. Checking to see that I had my cell phone and my keys, I left the room and headed downstairs. A few minutes later I saw Chris coming down the stairs. His face was freshly washed and his eyes, though a bit red, had returned to their normal look. I thought it would be unwise to comment, so I just arose from the sofa where I'd been channel surfing and clicked off the TV.

"What are you in the mood for?" I asked.

"You pick," he replied. "At our house we never ate out."

"How about Mexican?" I suggested.

"Sounds okay to me. You'll have to help me order though. I've never been in a Mexican restaurant."

"Man! Have you been missing something! I can't imagine growing up in Southern Cal and not knowing all there is about Mexican food."

"I had a tamale once in the cafeteria at school," he reflected.

"That stuff there is poison! I'm surprised you survived the experience," I exclaimed with a grin.

Chris laughed in spite of himself as we climbed into my Z car. Pressing the button built into the visor the large garage door began rolling upward.

"You are going to school' at dinner," I explained. "I know an authentic Mexican food place that serves all the original stuff. Most places now, especially the up-scale ones, serve only what I call Nouveaux Mexican'." I laughed at the thought of mixing a French word into a discussion of Mexican food. "It's not that the stuff isn't good," I continued, "It's just not what I'd call authentic. We'll start with the original stuff and then graduate to the Americanized versions later."

"Will you help me pick out what to eat?" he asked as we exited the drive and headed down the hill. the large iron gates again closing.

"Sure, but I already know what you should order," I replied. "They have a combination plate there with a taco, a cheese enchilada, and a tamale that is out of this world. Of course you get beans and rice too. While they're preparing our meals the waiter will bring out a bowl of hot tortilla chips and some really good salsa. I'll order something different from you so you can have a taste of mine too. By the time we're done, you'll know what most of the stuff is and can order for yourself next time."

Chris smiled in gratitude as he looked forward to the meal.

"I'm glad we started early," I rambled. "This place is not close, but it's worth the drive. It's not much to look at either, but the food makes up for the lack of ambience."

"You're the driver," conceded my passenger.

Looking at Chris I saw a completely different person than I saw earlier in his room. He was smiling and seemed to have regained his confidence. I thought that it might be the right time to broach the subject of his distress.

"Chris, I'm really sorry about watching you and Charlie," I began. "It was stupid of me and an invasion of your privacy. I apologize from the bottom of my heart. I'm willing to do everything I can to make it up to you."

Chris looked away from me and out the window as he responded. "I've thought a lot about it," he started. "I admit that I was pissed that you thought so little of me that you'd arrange for a massage like that, then spy on me without my knowledge or consent. In fairness though, I have to confirm that I'd never have agreed to the massage if you'd have asked, and," he said blushing, "I really enjoyed it. I've decided I can't be mad about that. I am disappointed though that you spied on Charlie and me. I'll accept your apology though and get over it. Just don't do it again, okay?"

"I promise," I responded humbly. "Is that it?"

"That's it," he answered.

I looked at him curiously.

"I don't understand," I revealed.

"You don't understand what?" he asked me.

"I understand your being angry and disappointed in me because of the Charlie thing, but I was shocked to see the fear in your eyes when we were in your room. What did I do? It scared the hell out of me."

"Oh that!" he said with a smile, yet I saw a hint of fear return to his eyes as he remembered.

"I was having a nightmare when you came in," he explained. "I dreamed that you had me tied to the bedposts naked, and came into the room wearing leather and brandishing a whip. I was frightened out of my wits. Then I opened my eyes and there you were in the doorway. I guess I just flipped out."

"Wow! I guess my timing couldn't have been worse," I offered. "Look, I hope you know that I'd never do that to you. I'm not a sadist, nor a masochist. I will never hurt you nor do I want you to hurt me. My vision of love is tenderness and caring, not beating each other up. Oh, I know some guys get their jollies that way, but that's their thing not mine. Nothing could interest me less."

"I'm glad," Chris replied with a grim smile. "Dreaming about it was bad enough. I'd hate to be terrorized like that in real life."

"You needn't be worried about that on my part," I promised. "I'll never hurt you."

"Thanks SJ," he responded. "It's behind us now, so let's forget it."

"Well, our timing is good," I said pointing. "There's our dining spot."


The dinner was as good as I remembered. Chris was like a baby who'd found a new toy. He not only enjoyed the dinner I'd selected for him, but he sampled a bit each of my chili relleno, and beef with bean burrito. Afterward we had that wonderful sopapilla, a hot, fried, sweet, puff bread that we filled with honey. It's terribly messy but delicious. We were in a great mood when we returned home.

On entering the garage, I saw that both my parents' cars were there. Glancing at my watch, I saw that we were on time. It reminded me that I'd forgotten to give the gift I'd purchased that day to Chris. We climbed out of the car, chatting about our plans for tomorrow, and entered the house through the door leading from the garage to the house. We found my parents enjoying an after-dinner drink in the family room.

"Hi guys," Mom said smiling. "How was dinner?"

"It was great," Chris quickly answered with a smile. "SJ took me to Garcia's in Inglewood. I got a taste of real Mexican food."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it dear," Mom replied. "We haven't been there since Jeffy was small."

"Hey Mom, watch the Jeffy stuff! You trying to destroy my image?"

"I think Jeffy's cute," Chris said with a grin.

"Thanks, I think you're pretty cute too," I retorted with an even bigger grin.

"I^Ådidn't^Å mean^Å" Chris stammered his face turning read.

"Told ya so," my Dad muttered, then laughed at Chris' embarrassment.

"It's okay son, you gotta be sharp around this place. I had a meeting with my lawyer this morning. Would you like to talk privately, or is it alright to discuss it here?"

"Well," Chris said slowly as he thought about it. "We might as well have it all out in the open since it looks like Jeff is gonna be my guardian while you guys are in Europe. That is, assuming I'll still be here."

Dad roared at the thought. When he calmed down he began speaking.

"Ed, my lawyer, did some fast work today. After I explained what we wanted to do, he reached your dad and got him to sign papers giving us guardianship."

"That's great," Chris responded, then asked, "What did my Dad say?"

"I'd rather not repeat it," Dad responded. "Let's just say that he hasn't changed his mind about you. I don't want to put him down, but honestly you're better off without him. At least here you'll be welcomed and accepted."

"Thank you sir," Chris said sincerely. "You guys are great!"

"Tell that to Jeffy," Mom said.

A pained expression came over my face at the mention of my perception of the folks, but the feeling passed and I smiled.

"Hey, I know you guys are great," I said. "I'd just like to be around you more to share in the greatness."

"We'll do the trip, I promise," Dad said. "Have you guys thought about where you'd like to go?"

"I have," I answered. "I think we should go on a week's cruise to Alaska. You could leave your cell phones at home and we could spend a lot of time together!"

Dad's eyes lit up. "I think that would be fun. I checked my calendar today. I could get away the first week in August. I called Mel and she's arranged to be off then too. I'll leave it up to you to make the arrangements."

"Yes!" I shouted in glee. "We're really gonna do it!"

Dad and Mom both smiled at my enthusiasm. I looked at Chris and his grin nearly matched mine

"What are you guys going to be doing while we're in Europe?" Mom asked.

"We really haven't discussed it," I said honestly. "Personally, I'd like to get out of town for a few days. I'm just not sure yet. Chris and I will talk about it and let you know before the week is out."

"If you do go, make sure you take Ed's phone numbers with you," Dad directed. "If you have any trouble, you can call him, even at home. He will have our power-of-attorney and can handle any emergency."

"Dad, I never get into trouble," I responded.

"There's a first time for everything," he wisely reminded me. "Besides, there are a lot of crazies out there. You never know.'

"I'll take your advice," I assured him, "like I always do."

"Like you do when it doesn't conflict with what you want to do," he corrected me.

"Yeah that too," I said with a wink.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Dad asked.

"No plans," I answered.

"Why don't you let Mel and I teach you two how to play Bridge?" he suggested.

My chin about hit the floor in shock! My parents wanted to spend the evening with me! I was struck dumb.

"Well, how about it?" Dad asked again when I didn't answer. "I was serious about making an effort to get to know my two sons."

"Yeah^Å sure," I said smiling. I'm not sure that the look on Chris' face was happiness, but I know, without a doubt that he knew what it meant to me.

"Sounds good to me," Chris added, not with great enthusiasm, but at least with willingness.

What followed was a 30 minute tutorial conducted by my mother. Even though I got a bit antsy to play, I paid close attention and quickly I began to understand the game. The two opposing teams bid against each other using bidding signals' to tell their partner how good their hand is. Whichever team bids the highest wins' the bid and whichever partner names the trump (wild) suit is called the declarer and plays both his and his partner's hand. The partner of the declarer, who's called the dummy', lays down his hand for all to see, and goes to the john or gets snacks while the declarer plays both hands against the opposing team. Learning how to play the hand is the easier part of the game to learn. You have to learn the bidding signals' in order to understand how high you can bid. That's the hard part. We learned that there are rarely used but important `special signals' to use if you and your partner have great hands. Mom wanted to wait to explain those signals but as the game formulated in our minds Chris and I wanted to hear it all.

We played a couple of practice games with Chris and me as partners. At first we felt unsure of what we were doing but the `rents dealt first a couple of "show" hands where we laid the cards on the table face-up and could see what each person should do. Of course that was easy when you could see everything. After the practice hand was bid, we played the hand out to see what would normally happen. After two hands of that we played a couple of practice regular hands asking questions if we didn't understand what we were to do. Then the play began in earnest.

We got trounced at first, but quickly got the hang of the game. I won't describe the scoring as it has its own complications, except to say that you get rewarded on the scorecard if you make your bid, and penalized if you don't.

I watched Chris through all of this and was surprised how smart he was. He grasped the concepts quickly and had a competitive streak in him that surprised me. I was sure that I'd underestimated his potential. I mean, I knew he was good in English, but that's not a fair measuring stick. I was beginning to see the guy inside and what made him tick, and was most pleasantly surprised. His natural reticence not to expose himself to others made him almost invisible in a crowded school setting. Here at home I could see a lot of strengths in him that I wouldn't have guessed. I could see that with a little help and encouragement, I could be a positive influence to bring him out of his shell. I felt certain that by developing his cute, but weak body, he would gain a pride in his looks and abilities. Getting over his trepidations at being gay would help too.

I decided to suggest to him that he take martial arts instructions while I took my piano lessons. Once he felt sure that he could defend himself against bigger guys, his confidence would grow even more.

At one point in the game when I was the dummy I slipped up to my room. I picked up the package I'd laid on the desk earlier in the day and extracted the sales slip, throwing it away. I then went into the bathroom, took a quick leak, went back to the game, bag in hand. I saw that Chris had won the hand and there was a break in the play while Mom went to the powder room and Dad went over to the bar to pour another Scotch for himself. I sat down in my chair across from Chris and laid the bag in front of him.

"Here. I got you something today." I said.

Chris looked at me curiously, then picked up the bag and extracted the small plastic box inside. Mom had joined Dad at the bar and watched the exchange. Chris opened the box and saw inside the nice but inexpensive watch I'd purchased for him while I was out earlier. His eyes lit up reflecting his pleasure.

"Thanks," he said softly, looking into my eyes with gratitude. "I always wanted a watch."

"We do things by the clock around here," I kidded. "Ya gotta be equipped to live life in the fast lane."

Dad and Mom returned to the table and asked to see the present. Both smiled at my thoughtfulness and at Chris' pleasure at the gift.

Without thinking, Mom suggested that I could have bought a more expensive watch.

"Mom," I explained, "kids live a rough and tumble life. Watches get banged up, lost or swiped. That watch is just like the one I wear for knocking around. It's perfect because you don't have to live your life protecting your damned thousand dollar watch."

"I stand corrected," Mom acquiesced. Dad grinned.

"I love it," Chris said settling the matter.

We played Bridge until 11:30 with Dad and Mom cleaning our clocks in spite of a last minute rally on Chris' and my part. Dad and Mom declared that it had been fun but that tomorrow was another workday and they needed their rest. They excused themselves as we put away the bridge cards and equipment.

When they were gone, Chris looked at me and said. "Thanks again for the watch Jeff. It was really very thoughtful of you."

"No prob Bro," I said. "I should have noticed when we were shopping yesterday that you weren't wearing one."

"What's important to me is that you did notice and did something about it," he countered. "It's a new experience for me to have someone care and one that I appreciate."

"Well^Å.. whatever," I responded, almost embarrassed. "Uh, if we're going to run in the morning, we'd better make some Z's."

A pained expression crossed his face at the thought, then he smiled and agreed, "Yeah, I guess so. You'd better wake me. This late night stuff is gonna make it hard for me to want to get up."

"No problemo," I replied.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Chris asked.

"Well, tomorrow is Wednesday. First is our run, then a little break before my piano lesson at 10:00. Then we'll go have lunch at the club and afterward you have your last golf lesson with the club pro. That will only take a half-hour. Then we'll hit balls for an hour. After we do that for a while, we'll practice putting and I'll show you how to hit sand shots. The club has nice practice greens for doing that. That will get us ready for your first round of golf on Thursday. I've already got a tee time and we'll play as a twosome so that we won't slow anyone behind us. It's just practice, so you needn't worry about your score. You're hitting the ball well already, so I think you'll be surprised how well you'll do."

I continued. "After golf practice tomorrow, we need to come back here. I have an English lesson tomorrow afternoon at three. You can rest or mess with the computer while I do that, then we'll work out. We missed it today, so we have to make up. That will put us at dinnertime. During the evening we can do something if you want, but I suspect that we'll both be tired."

"I'm sure I will be," he replied. "I guess there won't be much time for just hanging-out huh?

"We have the weekend for that," I responded. "During the week we work, and during the weekend we play."

"I guess that's fair," Chris said. "I see what you meant when you said there'd be no time for a job."

"We only have this summer and next school year to get ready to face the college world. We wanna be ready," I explained.

"I never really had more than hopes for college," Chris said. "It was get a scholarship or not go."

"That's changed," I assured my new friend. "Mom and Dad would both be pissed if we didn't make the most of ourselves. I know that I'm going for a golf scholarship. You might too, but as late as you're starting with the game, I suspect that you'll have better luck getting an academic one. You're pretty smart. It's just a way of being not so dependent on Mom and Dad and showing them that we can achieve stuff on our own. It beats the hell out of flipping burgers."

"That's for sure," agreed Chris.

"Hey, I had an idea while we were playing bridge," I said as we started for our rooms. "What do you think of taking martial arts lessons for the summer?"

"When will you have time?" he asked me.

"Oh I wasn't talking about me. I was thinking of you," I replied realizing that I hadn't made myself clear. "I took `em a couple of years ago and it really helped to bolster my confidence."

"Well, I don't know," he said hesitantly. "We have a lot of physical stuff going on. I'm not sure I'm able to do more."

"Well, think about it," I suggested. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I just know that you'll feel better about yourself if you do."

"I'll consider it," he promised as we reached his door.

"Well goodnight," he said as he grabbed the handle.

"Could I ask you something?" I said, not quite finished with our conversation.

"Sure," he replied simply as he paused.

"Umm, do you^Å like me?" I asked hesitantly.

"What's not to like?" he responded quickly with an added wink.

"That's what I thought," I said grinning. "Goodnight."

"'Night," he responded with a similar grin as he opened the door and disappeared.

Hmm,' I thought with hope, maybe I have a chance with him.'

I moved down the hallway toward my room, my thoughts mulling over the possibilities.


CHRIS'S POV

Closing the door behind me, my mind raced. Had SJ just asked me what I thought he did? I wasn't sure, but mentally kicked myself at my glib answer. Well, at least I hadn't said no. God! I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams that Jeff would be interested in me that way. My mind was in turmoil. This whole experience since I'd left home had left me breathless. Maybe some sleep would help. I began to shed my clothing and prepare for some much needed rest. I'd worry about it in the morning I decided as I put my clothes in the hamper. Ten minutes later, I was dead to the world.


I awoke with Jeff's hand shaking my shoulder.

"Up and at `em big boy," he said cheerfully.

`Oh no!" my mind said automatically as my sound sleep was interrupted.

I looked up and saw Jeff's eyes sneaking a glance at my lower body. Realizing that I was uncovered and that my morning wood was obvious, I quickly snatched the covers over my lower body in embarrassment.

"Nice wood," Jeff commented with a gentle smile. "You're gonna make somebody very happy."

"Go away," I responded.

"Not `till I see your feet on the floor," he countered.

I sat up and swung my feet off the bed, grabbing the sheet and trying to keep it wrapped around my waist.

"Don't be shy," he said laughing at my shyness. "I've got one of those things too. It's almost as nice as yours. Damned thing won't behave any better than yours does."

The fog of sleep was clearing from my mind as I sat there, not replying.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen," he offered as he turned toward the doorway. "Get your running stuff on. We're gonna beat yesterday's time by a minute."

"I can't wait," I said sarcastically as I struggled to my feet.


We did better than he promised. We beat yesterday's time by nearly two minutes! I was proud as he praised me. My smile belied the tiredness of my muscles and the gasping of breath, reflecting my winded condition. Once I'd recovered my wind, I realized that our time had to be a lot slower than when he ran alone. He was barely breathing hard. I reasoned that it would get easier as I got used to running. Then it dawned on me that tomorrow he'd want to go faster yet, so my thought of relief wasn't in my immediate future. Nevertheless, I'd take all the praise I could get. I looked admiringly at S J's lean, powerful body and realized that I could look that way. I knew that Jeff wouldn't be satisfied until I did. In a way I wanted to retreat into hiding, but I knew that there were rewards in following his lead, not the least of which was Jeff's admiration of my efforts and the hoped for results. Considering that only a few days ago I was lost, alone, and rejected, I now could look toward a future, a better one than I had ever imagined. If it took some sweat to achieve it, I knew that I could do it. Maybe then Jeff could really look at me the way with pride at being with me, the way.

"Okay," Jeff announced as we finished breakfast. "You have an hour or so to slack off while I practice my piano. You can catch a nap or play with your new computer or whatever. I'd suggest a shower though, you're pretty pungent," he said with a wink.

"You're no bed of roses yourself," I countered. "After my shower I think I'll sit down at the computer. I'm sure I can find a few pix of cute guys."

"You're gonna get me all jealous," S J said with a wink. "Here I've been working this poor body to death trying to make it attractive."

"Yeah, mine!" I complained.

"Just you wait Buddy Boy, he countered. "When I get through with you there won't be a guy or gal in this State that wouldn't drop their pants just to get a glimpse of you nekkid! Heck, you might even convince me!"

"Fat chance of that," I said. "I'm just a skinny pole."

"Don't put yourself down;" he responded with seriousness, "I think you're the best looking guy I know, even if you are a bit thin. But I have plans for you! When people see us walking down the street, heads are gonna turn."

"They already do," I retorted grimly. "They look and think, `What's that stud doing with that nerd?"

"We gotta work on your attitude," Jeff said, "but that will come by itself once we get you a new body."

"Where do I trade this one in?" I kidded.

"Hey there are parts just below your waist that can't be improved. We just have to remodel the parts above and below them," he declared. "By the end of the summer there's gonna be a new you."

"I kinda hoped you might like the one sitting here now."

"I do baby, I do. You just don't know how much."

"You've got that lusty look in your eyes," I observed aloud.

"Yeah!" he said feigning heavy breathing.

"You're just trying to get in my knickers," I said laughing.

"Would that be so bad?" he asked looking hurt.

"It's a bit early for that," I announced, pulling his chain. "Besides we're almost brothers."

"Incest begins at home," he cited with a wink.

I wasn't sure how to answer that, so I just laughed.


Next: Chapter 6


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate