“Uncle Randy? Why are you in my bathtub? Shit. Did Aunt Margy kick you out again?”
“Yeah. Your dad said I can crash here until she takes me back.”
“Fuck. What happened this time?”
“I dunno. She thinks I drink too much.”
“Shit, man. Wait a minute … are you drinking my beer?”
“Yeah, sorry. Your dad said to help myself. I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s fine. Forget about it. You bunking in my room or the living room couch?”
“Was hoping your room. I’ve got a 5-day load in these balls.”
“OK. Finish your bath. I’ll be ass up on the bed, the way you like me.”
“Thanks, boy. You’re a good nephew.”
“Uncle Randy? I think you get Aunt Margy to kick you out on purpose just so you can crash here, drink beer, and fuck my ass.”
“Yeah, no shit. Now grab me another beer and get your ass on that bed for me, faggot.”
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
Of course, after all that booze, Uncle Randy couldn’t even get his cock up. Which was a shame cause it was a hell of piece, a thick long thing that any horny college student would want to ride. So you stood there, naked and lithe and gorgeous, while Uncle Randy ogled you in horrendous frustration. You sat in a chair across from him. “Well, I guess it’s time we had the talk. Listen, Uncle Randy, you’re an alcoholic. You’re family, but barging into my apartment and drinking my beer? Not cool dude. You wanna fuck my little faggot ass or whatever, yeah, fine. Like duh, of course I want steady dick. But come on, dude you need to get your shit together. Aunt Margy don’t deserve having another son to look after. You’re supposed to be an adult.” Uncle Randy’s face grew red. “How dare you talk to me like that you little shit! You’re 22, you don’t know anything.” “Says the man I found drinking in a my college apartment’s bathtub and has a sad non-existent boner.” Uncle Randy looked apoplectic. “Why you piece of -!” He tried to get up, but it was hard when you’re that drunk, and at first swing he over balanced. You had to hold him up to prevent him from falling over. “Oof! God you’re heavy! Sit on the bed before you fall on top of me.” Uncle Randy grabbed your ass and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Come on make out with me.” “Uncle Randy sit the fuck down.” You shove him back on the bed and sighed. “Now you stay there, and you sleep this off. Tomorrow you start getting sober.” You wagged your finger at him one more time. Then you shut the door and left him in there like a petulant child. So weird to have to treat your Uncle that way, but fuck this had to stop.
The next morning, you came back from class and he was nursing a hang-over a bowl of cereal and Gatorade. He was wearing boxers. “Hey,” Uncle Randy said as you walked in. “Nice of you to get up today.” Uncle Randy flipped you off. “Did you have class? Or were you off fucking some hot rugby jock?” “I let him fuck me on the weekend, and it’s Saturday, so I had class. What are you still doing here? Usually you slink off back to Aunt Margy’s by now.” Uncle Randy sighed. “Yeah. She texted me and told me not to come back tonight. She needs to ‘think’.” He scoffed. “Whatever that means. But I think …maybe you were right, a little bit. I should stop drinking less. I mean, if my dick isn’t even working, that’s an emergency.” “I was hoping you’d be a little more concerned that you drove here last night, but if we can get to the same result through your cock that’s fine by me.” You grabbed a bowl and poured yourself some cereal.
Uncle Randy winced. “Yeah. I did drive here. And I still want a beer.” “Is your cock working this morning?” “It should. Why? You cravin it?” You rolled your eyes. “Cause I’ll make you a deal. You can keep fucking my ass, but you need to go to rehab. In or out patient, I don’t care. You make an appointment, you get to fuck me. You go to your appointments, you fuck me more. But you need to get to the bottom of your drinking – and I’m not the bottom.” You pointed the spoon at him. Uncle Randy considered you across the table. “I hate the idea of needing rehab but….I do like the idea of fucking my way to drinking less.” “I’m glad to hear that.” You pointed to his phone. “Make some calls. I’m gonna go shower and review my notes. You have an hour to do that and come find me, and then I’m jerking off, cause these balls are blue after your bullshit last night.” With that, you set your bowl in the sink and walked into the other room, leaving Uncle Randy stunned.
For a while, Uncle Randy was quiet, and then you heard him making calls. You went over your notes.
An hour later, Uncle Randy wandered in your room with his phone. He looked like a little child who had tried to tape back a vase he broke. “What’s up?” You asked. You weren’t wearing underwear under your basketball shorts, and the way you were sitting with your thighs open made it super obvious. Uncle Randy definitely noticed. “Uh.” He glanced up at you and handed you his phone. “Check that out.”
You took it and looked at the screen. It was an e-mail confirming his appointment at an outpatient clinic for 5:30 pm. You beamed at him. “I’m very impressed with you.” Uncle Randy blushed. “Thanks,” he muttered. “My boss gave me some days off. He’s a nice guy.” “I’m very proud of you.” Uncle Randy sighed. “I want a beer.” “You want a beer or my ass?” He looked annoyed this was his choice. “Your ass. I do believe by our verbal contract, I am owed it. Get on the bed ass up, the way I like it.” You licked your lower lip. “Yes, Sir. You earned it.”
_______________________________________________________ Captions are fictional. Not usually one for incest fic but…here we are.
“Estreellllooo are you awake from your nap yet?” Brian’s pup made a whine of annoyance that echoed down the hall. “It’s 3:15, you told me to wake you at 3. Oh well, I had a treat for you, but I’ll eat it.” Estrello perked up. “Aroo?” “If you want it, you gotta come here boy,” Brian called. That warranted getting out of bed. Estrello stretched and scratched the back of his neck. Why were beds so comfortable? He slid off with some regret and trotted down the hall to the kitchen.
Brian glanced over his shoulder at him as he came in. “Aw, there’s my pup. Good nap?” Estrello nodded and yawned. “Sleepy.” “Come sit.” Estrello knelt at Brian’s feet. His body sort of did it on his own now. Estrello gazed up at Brian with an adorable sleepy smile. “Hi Sir. Whatcha cooking?” “Hi. You are so cute when you’re a sleepy pup. And I’m not cooking, I’m baking.” Brian handled Estrello a beater with cookie batter on it. He made a little squeal. “You’re making cookies!” “Yes.” Estrello sniffed it. “Oh my god it’s peanut butter flavored.” “I figured you’d wanna get out of bed for that?” Estrello nodded. “Yes. Yes I would. Thank you Sir.” Brian gave him some scratches at the base of his hair line. He expected his pup to take his prize over to his ‘spot’ in the living room and splay out by the TV. Instead, Estello simply leaned against Brian’s leg and enjoyed his prize while Brian spooned the cookies on two trays. He liked feeling Estrello against his leg. The young man was like a warm, comforting ball of energy that just followed him around. Estrello appreciating the little indulges that made life special. He cherished every moment – like licking beaters. Or playing with a balloon. Or having a good cuddle. Having Estrello for a boyfriend was like having a dog, but a dog that took care of himself. Brian was enjoying relearning to see the world through the eyes of his pup boyfriend. Brian glanced down at him with the spoon he used sticking out of his mouth. “God you are way too cute. Here, you wanna lick the bowl too?” Estrello begged for it. If he had a tail, Brian’s ankle would have been bruised.
_________________________ Captions are fictional. Haven’t done a pup themed story in a while… also this guy in the photo looks real familiar. Anyone know who he is?
Clarence sat on the bed, still too hot from the shower to get dressed. He looked at Tom who was pouring himself a drink. “Well. We did it.” “We did.” “I expected things would be radically different. I mean I feel different…I feel really good, but like…I don’t know what I was thinking would happen.” “Did you think everything would be covered in rainbows and penises?” Tom asked. Clarence chuffed air through his nose. “No.” “That Kathy would break down the door and discover us?” Clarence glanced at the door. “Maybe. Everyone is upset at me for breaking up with her instead of proposing to her. And then I leave town for the week? Wouldn’t be surprised if someone followed me just to find out if I was insane.” Tom sipped his whiskey. “Well. It’s still illegal to be a homosexual. We did check in under fake names. I guess I understand why you feel that way.”
Clarence sighed. “Why does it feel so right though to do something illegal?” “Cause the law hasn’t caught up with how good it feels to be with a man in bed.” “If that’s the case, we just need the lawmakers to have a good fuck and we can fix it,” Clarence grumbled. Tom snorted. “I wish. But if they could see how beautiful you are in bed, they would change their mind.” Clarence blushed. “You are so kind. Kathy never gave me compliments in bed before.” Tom smiled. “You never had a reason to enjoy yourself. Want a drink?” Clarence shook his head. “I need a clear head. I need to figure out what comes next after this hotel room in El Paso. How to live this life.” “Just live it.” “I can’t. I have to go home to Kathy and the tennis club and my parents, and the place I grew up, and my job. I can’t leave as ‘Clar the straight dude’ and turn up as a ‘Clarence the homosexual’.” He made a gesture with his hand. Tom raised an eyebrow. “No you don’t.” “What do you mean?” “You don’t. You broke up with Kathy. She’s moving out, you can move out, sell the condo. You can work in your field anywhere. Why do you have to live where you grew up? You have two other siblings that live near your parents. You’re young.” Tom pointed at Clarence. “Go. Go be gay. Enjoy your youth and sex drive while you still can.” He downed the rest of the whiskey. Clarence stared at him. “But where…do I do that?” Tom made another gesture. “Anywhere. New York. San Francisco. Palm Springs. Hawaii. You took a week off work, right?”
Clarence thought and then raised his head. “Can we go to the end of Route 66? To the beach?” Tom poured another drink. “Can we do it in a week?” “Why sure. It’s two days to California. Three days back to Dallas. That leaves us some time in between.” Tom sipped again. ”Maybe we can stop at the Grand Canyon on the way.” “Oh Tom could we?” Clarence put a hand over his heart. “We could. And let’s make love every stop on the way.” Clarence grinned. “Why not again right now?” “Why Clarence. You better be careful, people are going to think you’re a homosexual.” Clarence tossed his towel on the bed and spread his legs. “Let em.”
Rashid considers the framed print over the fireplace. “That’s a nice Foo Fighters poster.” “Thanks.” I stretch. “God, my leg’s still asleep.” “Did you go to that show?” “Yeah I did. The posters were almost sold out just thirty minutes in. Was lucky to grab one.” “That is lucky. It’s really niece artwork. I didn’t think much of it last night-” “We were a little distracted last night,” I interrupt. Rashid chuffs through his nose. “Yes. But having slept on the floor after having some pretty damn good sex down here, I have a new angle to view it from, and I like it after all.” “Who knew pretty damn good sex could turn you into a connoisseur of art.” “Who knew. And who knows what would happen if we had sex in a museum.” Rashid stands up with a groan and looks around. “Actually, now that I can see your house in the daylight, I like it even more too. You have great style. Everything ties together so well.” “Thank you, but are you just saying that cause you’re happy got laid last night and are trying to stay for breakfast, or do you like actually mean that?” “Both?” Rashid grins. “Cause I’m starving but I want to spend the morning with you.” He wraps the blanket around his shoulders with no attempt to cover himself in the front.
I shamelessly stare at him from where I’m still on the floor. “Hm. I think I believe you. Cause looking at you in the daylight….” Rashid waits for me to continue. “Yes?” I shake my head. “Sorry. I was staring at your cock and I forgot what I was going to say.” He laughs. “At least you’re honest.” “Yeah! You’re fucking hot. And hung.” Rashid blushes. “Now are you just saying that, or do you want me to stay for breakfast?” I laugh. “I think there’s an echo in here. I want you to stay for breakfast cause I like you, but I think I want you to bend me over the table after we’re eating.” “Oh. I’m definitely staying for breakfast if there’s a chance of that.” “Mn. I could spend like another thirty minutes sitting here on the floor staring up at you too, but I really have to pee.” “I promise you can stare at my cock after you get out of the bathroom.” I smile. “Keep talking and you’re gonna earn yourself some lunch too.” Rashid looks pleased at this. “Ooo I’ll try. Hey, you have an Alexa. Can we play the Foo Fighters as we make breakfast?” I make a noise from my throat. “Are you trying to stay the whole day?” That makes him laugh again, and I realize how easy it’d be to just fall in love with a guy like Rashid. He helps me up, and makes some of his own jokes about staring at me while I insist it’s nothing worth looking at.
Rashid disagrees, and to highlight his interest, follows me Into the bathroom. He holds my cock as I pee, and it’s hilarious and I keep nearly missing because I’m laughing so hard. We end up groping each-other and we must take a shower before it gets out of hand. After a wash up, we bounce down to breakfast barely dressed. When Rashid pulls the eggs out of the fridge, I decide he is definitely bending me over the table after breakfast. I never get to tell him my decision though, because he comes over to flirt with me while I cut veg for the omelette and we end up having a rut against the counter while standing up!
“Are you taking my picture now? I’m not wearing much.” “Sure am. I want a nice photo of you. You worked hard on that body during Covid. A lot of pictures I have of you are just your face.” “We did take a lot of stupid selfies on the couch. And in the car. And in bed.” “You can’t tell we’re naked in some of those.” I grin. He gives me that “you’re such a rapscallion” look. “Ok, fine. Take your photo.” I adjust the focus and zoom and snap a couple. “Turn a little sideways. There. Good.” I take another two and put my camera away. “I appreciated that.” “No problem. But if you wanted some half naked photos me to jerk off when I’m not there, you could have just asked.” “Pfft. If it was for wanking, I would have requested you’d be naked. Some naked photos would be nice though…” He raises an eyebrow. “You’d like photos of me naked?” I blink. “Duh.” He blushes. “Hmm. We’ll see how slutty I feel tonight.”
He leaves me to think about that and wades into the river for a swim. I end up taking my camera out again to take a few shots of him, until he begs me to come in and join him. Not a difficult choice. It’s muggy and humid, and the water is blissfully frigid. Once I get in, he swims up to me, puts his swimwear in my hands with a smirk on his face, and glides off. I swallow hard as his butt crests the water. God, what a tease! He knows I can’t bring my camera in the water! I groan and swim after him, wanting him immensely.
I saw the photo for the first time in a magazine when I was in my early 50s. I was in the dentist’s office, waiting for a cleaning, and it was a dated issue someone has left on the waiting room table with the address crossed out. There was a photo expose called, “Remembering the Youth of Old New York”, featuring both black and white color photographs of young people living in the moment in a New York City that no longer existed. It was shot by student photographers at the time. It captivated me, because I was there. I lived it. I didn’t expect to recognize anyone and especially not Tommy.
When I turned the page, the shock took all the air out of my lungs. There he was, young and stunning, in Greenblatt’s Deli. We used to stop in there when it was hot, when we were too early for customers to pick us up. Tommy loved this peach ice tea, but the store usually ran out and he’d be stuck with lemon. Tommy would put his hands on his knees and stare at the fridge selection like a batter on first considering stealing second base. Mr. Greenblatt liked us, and he’d often hide the peach ones behind the lemon so Tommy could get one on a hot summer day.
Tommy always found it.
Mr. Greenblatt didn’t care if you were queer, Cuban, black, Jewish, or anything. Sometimes he’d save “mistake” sandwiches behind the counter for the homeless kids who’d run away from New Jersey, Connecticut, wherever, and came to New York and never had enough cash. Mr. Greenblatt had grown kids who had moved away, never called. We were his kids, and he took care of us.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed as I stared at the photo. Those were the days. Me and Tommy and the boys, we’d sleep late, wander around the city like we owned the damn place, and at dusk we’d gravitate to our corners, looking for familiar cars. You could live on that money you made, sucking off nervous businessman or stroking them off a side street with the engine running. You just needed one or two fares who’d take you to a hotel to make rent. None of us lived anywhere fancy, but we had a roof over our heads and a shower that was warm if you were quick.
I had some faint memory of some guy taking pictures in this deli. We thought he was some NYU student trying to do something artsy. I don’t remember him taking photos of us though. I wondered who took the picture. I wondered if there was one of me somewhere, unpublished. In the caption, there was a description: Unidentified young man considers choices in Greenblatt’s Deli in the Lower East Side. That made me a little angry. That was Tommy. That stupid fucking NYU photographer or whoever he was couldn’t even get his subject’s name. I decided I’d find him and fix that.
“Mr. Washington?”
The stupid photographer would probably feel real fucking embarrassed once he found out that Tommy was dead. And not from HIV, like so many of us were, like I should have been, but no, he was hit by a stray bullet during an unrelated robbery. I was there. I closed my eyes. Still clear as day, like a movie. I could even still hear the sound Tommy made when his body hit the ground.
We could never find his parents. I don’t think he had parents anyway. But some of his clients came to his funeral. Some even paid for it. I thought that was real nice.
“Mr. Washington? Anyone know if there was a Mr. Washington here?”
I blinked, pulled out of my headspace. “Uh yeah that’s me, sorry. I drifted off for a second there.” “Oh,” the assistant smiled. “That’s ok. Right this way Mr. Washington.” "Can I keep this magazine?” I asked. “Sure,” she chirped. I had to set it down because I needed both hands to get up. Knees weren’t the same these days. I clutched the magazine as I walked back to the dental chair. I hoped this cleaning didn’t take too long. I couldn’t wait to call that stupid fucking photographer and tell him about Tommy.
When I got out of the cleaning though, there were more thoughts in my mind. I think it was time to drive to New York and see Tommy again. I called Adam on my cell phone – what a thing that was! – and said, “Hey, want to go to New York for the weekend?” “What for?” “Feeling nostalgic. And needing a good bagel.” Adam knew about my past. He probably knew this was about Tommy. But bless Adam, he somehow knew when to not ask for details. He knew trauma never really goes away, it just gets easier to live with. He always supported me in indirect ways on as-needed basis. Best decision I ever made was marrying him. “Yeah, I could use a good bagel,” Adam said, “And some good Chinese food too. I’ll get a cat sitter and a hotel, we can go on Friday. We’ll talk plans when you get home.” “Sounds great. Also, can you call your nephew and ask him to find a phone number for me please? It’s a photographer. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“All good on the homefront?” “Well, the baby went down for a nap, the dishwasher is loaded, laundry is folded and put away, dinner is marinating in the fridge.” Ty furrowed his brow. “That all sounds like good things, but you don’t look too happy. What’s wrong?” Billy pushed back his chair from his computer and followed Ty out of the office. “Something is wrong,” Tyler said. He stopped in the hallway and lowered his voice as to not wake up the infant. “We have a newborn, there isn’t any reason we should be caught up on the housework. I must need to do something, I just can’t think of what it is though.” “It’s probably sleep.” “Oh. I don’t feel tired.” “I do. You’ve probably hit a wall where you’re so tired so often you stop realizing it,” Billy said. “Well if I don’t feel tired, surely I should use this energy to get something else done…” Billy pointed down the hall. “To bed.” “This feels silly.” “Bed.” Ty sighed. “Fine.” He peeked into the nursery before walking into their bedroom. He stripped off his shirt and climbed into bed. “I’m not tired.” He yawned. “Uh huh. Ah curse you.” Billy yawned in response. Ty grinned. “Contagious.” He stretched out. “Man it is nice to just not do anything. Maybe a nap is a good idea.” “Well, hold on, there’s something I forgot to do.” Ty glanced at Billy. “What?” Billy moved to get up onto the bed. “Are you gonna take a nap with me?” “Absolutely. But first…need to do the thing I forgot to do.” Billy practically climbed on top of Ty, held himself up with one strong arm, and bent to kiss his husband deep. Ty made a low purring noise of appreciation and snaked his arm around Billy’s back. “Oh yeah sex…forgot about the whole sex thing…” Billy kissed his jawline and down his neck. ‘Yeah the kissing is pretty nice… “ He slid his hand down Ty’s stomach.” “Oh lord,” Ty gasped as the hand slid down past his waistband. He hurried to unbutton it. It was a confusing mood to be in – suddenly very horny and hardening quickly, but at the same time, the limbs were getting heavy and it was feeling more and more attractive to fall asleep.
Lucky for Ty, he was too pent up to last long. Ty laid there on the pillows helplessly, hips arched, moaning Billy’s name as Billy stroke him to completion. He clutched Billy’s arm with one hand, sheets in another. “Billy, god, don’t stop!” Ty hissed as loud as he dared, praying he didn’t make some loud comical orgasm noise that would wake the baby. He kept his teeth clenched and the groans in his throat as he spilled all over Billy’s hand. “That’s it, come Ty, come all over me. That’s it, that’s a good boy. You’re working so hard to keep the house clean and the baby happy so I can work. It’s important you’re taken care of. You’re so very very backed up…” Ty kissed Billy and ran his fingers through his hair as the bliss faded away into a soft dreamy bubble. “I feel very taken care of. And very, very tired.” Ty yawned as to make a point. “And also sticky.” Billy yawned back. “Ah damn your contagious yawns again. I’ll go get a towel.” Ty made a lazy nod as Billy got off of him. When Billy got back, Ty was asleep. Billy removed his jeans, cleaned up the spilled seed, and tucked his cock back into his shorts. Billy liked to handle it soft or hard. Cock was awesome, and Try liked to share his, so Billy was always grateful. He left the towel in the sink, washed his hands, and then shucked off his clothes to join Ty for a nap. His own cock would wait until later, as could any work he left undone. Sleep, precious sleep, was calling him, and thankfully his cock understood that this time it had to bow out. At any second that baby could cry. Why would you squander that time not sleeping, when Ty was always curled up in bed, warm and soft and waiting? Billy spooned up to him and nuzzled his neck. He began to fantasize how he’d spill his seed later, but within moments, he too was out.
Craig watched Harrison’s houseboy rinse off after grilling dinner on a humid summer night. “Damn, Harrison, I can’t get over the ass on your boy. Just what a fine specimen.” “Why thank you Craig. I do enjoy having him around, I’ve enjoyed every second of him being in my service.” Jack spoke up. “I admire the restraint you have Harrison, cause I’d spend all day playing with that body of his…or having him sit on my lap while I’m working.” “He can’t get his chores done sitting on my lap, and I would never get any work done with him there anyway.” The other two men chuckled. “Something so satisfying about a good houseboy. Like, society didn’t carve out a place for them, but we knew they are god-given so we carved a place out for them – and they came to us.” Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Are you getting spiritual there Jack?” Craig asked. “Hey if the higher power created houseboys in his own image, I’m going to church more.” Harrison snickered. “Amen to that.” They clinked beer bottles and drank to that. “Mn,” Craig said as an after thought. “Still a fine ass though.” “And the calves.” Jack added. “I like the way his legs are proportioned in kind of an hourglass way.” “Yeah, the taper around the ankles is nice,” Jack agreed.
Harrison spoke up. “I like the way his thigh muscles cut in around the top of his knees, creates nice shadows.” “I like the ripples in his back.” “Shoulders, can’t forget shoulders.” “Mmnhmm.” “And a nice personality too. Just always happy to serve.” Jack this time. “And he does seem to enjoy it. Has a natural knack for it,” Craig piped up. “Makes good coffee. And doesn’t put too much pepper on the eggs.” “Makes real good brownies too.”
“You know what I like right now,” Craig gestured. “Is just how red he is turning. Look at his ears.” Harrison laughed. “What’s that you say? He can hear us?” Well, aren’t we fools gentlemen. Don’t you all know not to flatter your houseboys? Goes to their heads is does. Turns em into divas.” Craig put his empty bottle down. “We have made a grievous sin. Still. I stand by my first argument: that ass is fine.” There was a chorus of “mmhmms” and head nods. “You should be done rinsing off, boy. Turn off the water, and grab Craig another beer,” Harrison instructed. “Y-yes Sir.” The young man turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He did have quite a red face.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Craig said. “What?” asked Jack. “We never talked about the front.”
The houseboy shot Craig a look of exasperation, which made them all laugh. After he got the men a refill of beer, Harrison crooked his finger and the young man curled up on his lap, safe his Master’s arms. When Jack and Craig got into a side conversation about something, Harrison took that moment to whisper in his boy’s ear. “You know, all those things we said were true.” It was delightful to see the houseboy start blushing all over again.
___________________________ Captions are fictional.
They were both still fresh from the shower; they shrugged on shirts but found their skin too warm to button them up or finished getting dressed. Instead Val went downstairs to the kitchen and pulled the champagne out of the wine fridge. “What’s this for?” Ricardo asked. “Left over from a party this weekend.” Val pulled the temporary stopper out. It made a soft popping noise. Val poured two glasses and handed one to his friend. “But what are we celebrating though?” Val gestured upstairs and smirked. “We are toasting to a fine night of fucking those two fine boys, tormenting them to a beautiful insanity of sexual hysteria until they broke and gave themselves totally onto us to deliver them to salvation.” Ricardo looked smug and took the glass. “I can toast to that. Man, what an ass that boy had. 21 years old. Nearly virgin…it begged for stripes. Begged. Boy had never cum properly in his life or been so decorated, I guarantee it.” Val chuckled. “That may be so. To them!” The glasses clinked and they sipped. Ricardo exhaled. “I could have gone longer.” Val shook his head slightly. “They’re young, inexperienced. We must not use up our toys too quickly. They were worn out; they are going to sleep through the night, those two.” “I hope those stripes stay till the morning.” Val shrugged. “Well if not, just put on new ones.” Ricardo moved to refill the glasses. “I am glad to know you my friend. You are my kind of pervert.” Val laughed. "To friendship.” They clinked again and drank and set upon making a nice bite to eat. They had worked up a great appetite.
“Honestly, some part of me thinks I’m just running from my problems. But I only have problems when I’m home – I didn’t finish university, everyone expects me to date girls, and my parents are just disappointed in me I guess cause I never moved out. I only joined the Navy because I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have any other skills besides working on a boat. As long as I’m in the Navy, I don’t have any problems.” “You like Navy?” the merman asked. Jack couldn’t pronounce his name properly, as he couldn’t use sonar. “I do.” “Lots of men. See them on beaches in same hat.” Jack giggled. “There are.” “Are you good at Navy?” “Yes. I may be promoted soon.” “Promoted is…good?” The merman asked. “Yes. More work, more money.” “Then no problem. Stay on water, no problem. Stay on lands, problems. Stay on water. Water always best.” Jack gazed up at his pretty blue eyes. “You make it seem so simple.” He furrowed his brow. “Is simple.” Jack chuckled. “Is your life simple?” The merman glanced out over the water. “Before, simple. No boats. Fish. Now boats, loud boats. Some boats take many many fish. But we still happy. But also complicated.” “What’s complicated?” Jack asked. “Men drive boats. But I like you.” “Oh. That is complicated. I like you too.” Jack reached up and cupped his cheek. The merman nuzzled it. Jack scratched his beard and the merman tilted his head like a puppy. “Six days, boat go?” The merman asked. “Five,” Jack said with a sigh. The merman pouted. “Stay?” Jack sighed. “Can’t. Navy.” “When come back?” “I don’t know. The merman thought. “You go toward sun set or sun rise?” “What?” Jack blinked. It took him a moment to realize the merman was asking if he was headed east or west. “Sun set.” The merman brightened. “I go with.” “What? Really? But…it’s so far from your beach.” “We go west. For spawning. Not now. In days. But early ok.” Jack smiled. “I would like that. I’d miss you.” “Miss you too. You see, yes? Land, problems. Water, no problems.” Jack reached for his hand. “Yes. I see.” They intertwined their fingers together and watched the clouds move over the sea.
