Dooby Rhymes with Scooby

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze 


A friend, R.L.S., who shares my fascination with Speedo swimsuits and their
contents, inspired this story.

Tom Paterson was early for the picnic at his aunt and uncle's
intentionally. It was Saturday, the first day of the long Memorial Day
weekend, a day chosen so that in the event of inclement weather, the annual
event could be postponed to Sunday, or worse case scenario, to Monday. He
wasn't fond of family functions and usually ducked them, but this time his
mother was traveling to another state to visit a sick friend and he had to
represent the Paterson branch of the family.

"Forgive me for saying this Mother, but your sisters are nosy busybodies,
being around them for long is like an inquisition. I hate being
questioned. The key word in private life is private and how our company is
doing since Dad died is none of their business either." Tom complained when
his mother stopped in Paterson Contract Printing, to tell him that he had
to go.

"I know dear, your father always said the same thing, but Betty isn't
nearly as bad as the other two, and you've always liked your Uncle
John. You'll survive for a few hours, plus I'm making a huge pan of baked
beans for you to take along." His mother smiled at him, waiting for the
predictable reaction.

"Come on Mom, they'll stink up my car, and what if they spill? Baked beans
are the only food I can think of that smell like farts even before you eat

His mother laughed, "They won't spill if you drive carefully. Just because
you don't like my beans, everyone else does. You'll find the beans in my
frige tomorrow, and don't make believe you forgot them or the
picnic. Tomorrow IS Saturday."

Tom knew that further argument was pointless. He'd go he just wouldn't stay
long. "Yes Mother," he kissed her cheek. "You drive safely too," he
grinned. "It's a holiday weekend, cops will be everywhere and you have a
reputation as a lead foot." That comment got him a punch in the
shoulder. He watched her leaving the parking area in front of their
building; as usual the gravel flew from the rear wheels of her car. She
knew he was watching and waved through the rear window. He covered his eyes
in mock horror before he returned the wave.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, the day promised to be warm. A perfect
day to drive his new Corvette with the top down. Tom stopped at his
parent's home, his home, their home, now just his mother's, to get the
baked beans. He sighed looking around. He missed his father. The odor of
baked beans was pervading.

The day Tom graduated from college with a degree in business, his parents
gave him a fifty- percent interest in their company, and his favorite five
acres of their twenty that surrounded the Paterson family home. They also
presented him with a check, more than enough for a down payment to build
his own home next to theirs, but far enough away to give him space. The
cash wasn't really a gift; the money was back wages. Tom always worked in
the shop, at first just sweeping up, then hauling paper stock from the
warehouse to the presses and the finished jobs back to be shipped. He
learned how the presses worked and started printing jobs, while someone
else hauled paper to him. He learned to troubleshoot the complicated
machines and slowly absorbed what went on in the office, the business end
of printing. Tom was a full partner in the family company when he was still
in high school without realizing it.

He graduated from college in May. His father, best friend and business
partner, died of a massive coronary in early December. The funeral was a
blur. The entire family was there, but he saw almost none of them. His new
home was three-quarters complete. He was going to stop construction and
continue to live with his mother, but she wouldn't allow that and even
threatened to evict him on the completion date, finished or not, she told
him he could live in the shop. He moved in to his new home in March and by
May, had it mostly furnished and comfortable.

The one person Tom remembered at the family gathering back at their house
after the funeral, was his cousin. Tom remembered dutifully fixing drinks,
pouring wine and opening beers at the makeshift bar until everyone was
served and there was a lull. Dooby was then thirteen almost fourteen, Tom
couldn't remember. He did remember that remorse didn't affect Dooby's
appetite. He wasn't first in line at the buffet but nearly, and he was
barely managing a balancing act filling not one, but two dinner plates with
food. Tom shrugged mentally; he would have done the same at that age. He
grinned, "Like I'm ancient. I felt like I was then, and when I heard the
first bursts of laughter as the booze kicked in, I wanted to cry. I
disappeared upstairs to my bedroom to be alone," he remembered. A giant bug
splatted on the windshield, he ducked and glanced at his speed. Ninety-five
was a tad too fast on the Interstate crawling with troopers and County
Mounties. He dropped down to seventy-five and set the cruise control.

Tom was stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking of the
things that he'd have to start doing in the shop that his father always
did. There was a knock on the door, more of a thunk actually. When he
didn't respond, except to frown, the thunk was repeated more
urgently. Then, "Open the damn door Uncle Tommy, it's me, Dooby." Dooby
always called Tom, Uncle Tommy from when he first learned to talk. Tom was
always an adult so far as Dooby was concerned, and a relative, hence he had
to be an uncle.

Tom rolled, stood, and yanked the door open. His frown should have been
enough to tell Dooby that he didn't want to be disturbed, that Dooby was
unwelcome. Dooby did step back one step, but his apologetic hopeful smile
didn't change. Dooby held a tray with both hands and used the tray to
knock. "I was fixing you something to eat, and when I turned around, you
were gone. I'll just dump this and leave you alone. I'm sorry about your
dad, if it was my father; I'd be up here too. Do we have all assholes for
relatives?" He asked as he put the tray down on the bed.

Tom smiled at that question and didn't answer since he'd indict Dooby's
family as well if he said what he thought. He saw that there were two
plates of food, silverware, napkins and one glass of iced tea on the
tray. He closed the door. "Thanks Dooby, this is very thoughtful. I didn't
have breakfast and I'm starved I guess." He sat by the tray and pointed to
the end of the bed. "Join me? I'd like the company." He realized he was
hungry and he'd always liked his little cousin. "You didn't bring anything
to drink? Just one iced tea?"

Dooby allowed his impish grin to appear on his handsome face while he
reached into his suit coat and produced a longneck beer from the inside
pocket. "I brought this for me, and that's not iced tea. You drink bourbon
don't you?"

Tom sniffed the glass, wrinkled his nose then held it up to the light from
the windows. "Holy shit. Good thing I'm sitting on my bed. If I drink this
I won't be able to move far."

Dooby shrugged, "Saves trips and I thought you could use it."

They ate quickly in silence. Dooby finished first then got up to look at
the framed photos that covered one wall of Tom's bedroom. Most were of Tom
alone, taken, beginning when he was six or seven years old and progressing
through his college years. Tom held a trophy of some sort, large or small
in all of them. Some were team photographs. "Wow, you've been swimming and
winning for a long time Uncle Tommy," he grinned, "almost from the time
they invented water." He moved to the bookcases and tried to match trophies
with the pictures.

Tom chuckled, "Screw you Harold, I'm not that old and we're cousins. I'm
not your uncle." His use of Dooby's given name was pay back for the crack
about age. "If you stop with the age jokes, I'll stop calling you Harold,
Harold." Dooby's thundercloud frown made Tom burst out laughing.

Dooby nodded and started laughing with him. "Can you imagine being named
Harold? It was my dad's father's name. It makes me like an instant nerd,
you know? You win. No more gigs about your advanced age. OOPS! I didn't
mean that, it just slipped out, really."

"Of course it did, HAROLD!"

Dooby winced, "Okay! Truce?"

"Truce." Tom agreed. Dooby started looking at the most recent college
photos, there were far fewer of those just team photos, because of the
increased quality of the competition.

Tom explained that as Dooby started looking back and forth at him then his
senior year team picture. Dooby nodded satisfied, "At least you look like
you're still in pretty good shape."

"Thanks a heap. I still swim occasionally and I'll always be lugging paper
stock around in the shop. I always have."

Dooby backtracked and nodded again, "It shows, you've always had a nice

Tom suddenly felt uncomfortable at having his handsome young cousin
myopically examine his Speedo clad body even if it was one among many in an
eight by ten picture. He studied Dooby's body, his height and weight, the
width of his developing shoulders and the natural grace of his
movements. He imagined that Dooby at fourteen closely matched what his
college roommate looked like when he was that age. It was unfortunate that
he spent his college career warming the bench mostly as the second string
quarterback. His cock stirred, he didn't want to think about Scott just
then. He had to ask; "What's your sport Dooby? You look like you'd be good
at anything after you do some more growing."

Dooby smiled at the indirect compliment, "They're starting up a Lacrosse
team at school in the spring. I watched some matches on video. It looks
like fun. I'm just a freshman, but I've got as good a chance to make the
team as anyone else so I thought I'd give it a try."

They talked sports for another half-hour before there were shouts from the
first floor for both of them. Tom's daydreaming was interrupted by the exit
he wanted. He was on a country road, and paid more attention to his
driving, but his mind went back to Scott.

Tom and Scott became friends their freshmen year. They lived in the same
dorm, but weren't roommates. As the school year ground to a close in the
spring, they decided to room together as sophomores off campus, since upper
class men weren't required to live in the dorms. Scott knew a football
player who was graduating and would be vacating a large garage apartment
very near campus. They rented it annually before they left for summer
vacation because Scott had to return six weeks early for football
camp. They were both business majors, neither was a slob, they partied hard
if they had time and studied together at other times. In their apartment,
actually one large room with a bathroom, closet and kitchen area in one
corner, there was never any false modesty between them. They were both
athletes, both spent a lot of time dressing and undressing then showering
in locker rooms and enjoyed not having to wear anything when they were home
together. Also, they both enjoyed looking at each other and enjoyed being
admired in turn. Both in peak physical condition, neither thought of
themselves as narcissistic or voyeurs. They lived together as good college
friends for two years. Everything changed at the beginning of their senior

Tom arrived at the apartment two days before classes were to start in late
afternoon, Scott was there waiting for him and welcomed him with a hand
shake and something else, a bone crushing hug. Tom surprised himself by
returning the hug. Further, he enjoyed both. They went out for dinner after
Tom unpacked, then stopped at a distant liquor store to stock up with
consumables, since neither would risk being caught buying booze closer to
campus. They planned to celebrate being seniors at last and getting half
blasted once before the season was allowable and they wouldn't be caught if
they partied in their apartment.

They started out watching television. They sat together on their sofa with
their legs stretched out on the battered coffee table. Scott got up to get
round two. When he returned he was naked. "I just thought I'd get ready for
bed." He handed Tom his refilled drink and put his down. He shut of the
tube and loaded the CD player.

"Naked is good." Tom laughed and went to undress. His shorts and shirt
landed on his bed when it suddenly got dark. Scott lit candles and shut off
the lights. They frequently burned candles; they had lots of them, a
substitute fireplace.

When they settled on the sofa again, the talk immediately turned to
sex. Talking was easy. The music was low. Scott told of a new friend,
Carla, how many head jobs he got and how many times he got laid. He laughed
with Tom when Tom announced that he was still on Suzy's list, and got
fucked at least weekly. Suzy was a cheerleader in Tom's class in high
school. She fucked just about every athlete in the school. If she like
them, they got added to her list. She called them mostly when she got to
their name. They didn't go out on dates, they just fucked, two or three
times in one evening and wherever they were unlikely to be disturbed. Her
house, his house or in his car. Mostly in the summer, Tom took her to the
grassy meadow on their property, his favorite place. The place where he
built his home. When they graduated Suzy kept Tom on her list and he got
special attention when he was home on holidays, semester breaks and

Tom fixed round three. He was feeling the buzz growing. When he brought the
drinks to the sofa, Scott was hard and playing with himself. They both got
over modesty there too their sophomore year. Jerking off was necessary for
a guy's continued sanity. There were regular morning piss hardons that had
to be relieved at first. It was impossible for both of them to lie in their
twin beds and out wait the other after the alarm went off in the morning,
they had to get to first classes. Both jerked off privately in the shower,
except that wasn't really private, the shower curtain wasn't opaque. The
bathroom couldn't be a private place there wasn't time. At night, in bed
with the lights out, there was always enough light coming through the
blinds. If one jerked of, they both jerked off and frequently reached for
the single box of tissues on the night table between their beds at the same
time. They jerked off together, but separately and neither felt free to
comment afterward.

"I'm feelin' horny," Scott slurred. "You horny?" He didn't wait for an
answer. Tom was still standing up looking down on him. Tom's cock answered
by growing and standing. He grinned and offered his hand to Scott to pull
him to his feet.

Tom stretched out on his bed. "Candle light is cool for a change. Watching
each other, really watching will be a trip. We should have started this two
years ago. Why didn't we?"

Scott sat heavily on the side of Tom's bed. "Don' know, scared
maybe. Stupid definitely, we should have." He abruptly stretched out
alongside Tom, close; their bodies had to touch, powerful thighs from hips
to knees. Both enjoyed the contact.

Tom's tan was the dark gold of blondes, except for a very narrow stripe
covered by a brief Speedo. They held themselves up after figuring out what
to do with their arms. Scott wormed his hand under Tom's neck and hugged
him closer by pulling, rubbing, massaging his opposite shoulder. Tom's arm
moved to match Scott's without hesitation. He enjoyed feeling Scott's hand
and the feel of his warm skin under his. He looked down at himself then
Scott. "Hey, you been wearing a speed suit all summer?"

Scott giggled, "Yup, one of yours, I stole it when we were packing up. Sexy
tan lines huh? Like yours, it got me lots of stares round the old swimmin'
pool an' even got me Carla."

Tom laughed, "Cool move then, I've got lots, I didn't miss it. You're so
dark, what'd you do camp out at the pool?"

"A couple of times, but it was dangerous, too many lights. Carla was the
head lifeguard, had keys, had to stick to the locker room." Scott began
stroking himself faster.

Tom tried to match him but gave up and tried to retrieve his right
arm. Scott stiffened his neck muscles. Tom giggled, "We got a problem here
Houston, I'm right handed. The left hand doesn't cut it, sorry." He again
attempted to free his arm.

Scott abandoned his cock and moved his hand to bat Tom's left hand away
then replace it. "Scotty to the rescue. Do you mind? This is so cool to
touch you."

"Mind? I'd mind if you stopped. Oh wow. Someone else's hand." Tom reached
over to take Scott's cock in his hand.

Scott pushed his hand away, "Later if you still want to. There's somethin'
else I've wanted to try on you, do ya' mind?"

"Mind? You nuts? Be my guest, I'm all yours." Tom was breathless. Scott had
become all the attractive guys he'd ever seen and fantasized about behind
the shower curtain or in his bed. His inhibitions were wasted the barriers
were gone.

Scott moved fluidly. He sat up, pulled his legs up, turned and separated
Tom's legs with a knee, then knelt between them, and lowered his head until
Tom's cock disappeared completely in his mouth, all in one easy
movement. Tom watched him slack jawed he wanted to take Scott at the same
time, but he couldn't reach him, so was content to run his fingers through
the dark hair on his head and rub his shoulders. His body stiffened too
quickly, it was too soon. It was a signal to Scott; he sucked harder and
bobbed his head faster. Tom squeezed Scott's head with a palm covering each
ear. He bucked, clenched his ass cheeks and pumped every sperm in his nuts
into Scott's mouth.

Scott released him all too soon. He met Tom's eyes reluctantly, tears
formed. "Now you know the rest of the story." When Tom looked puzzled he
continued, "Carla was really Carl, I knew him from high school, but we
never, well you know, got together. When I showed up at the pool the first
time wearing your little suit, we knew, I knew. I've always known, but I
thought it would go away. I know we're both a little tight right now, but
when we aren't, will you let me get you off like this once in a while, just
occasionally. I love your body and your cock, and your balls, and what's in
them. I'll keep you content if you let me. Will you?"

Tom grinned; his cock lifted itself from his belly and bonged Scott's chin,
then he used his arms to pull Scott up his body immediately reveling in his
weight and warmth. He pulled Scott's head down to kiss him deeply and taste
himself in Scott's mouth. "How's that for an answer fool? We've both been
fools. We wasted two whole fucking years just looking."

"You mean that? Really?" Scott was ecstatic.

Tom playfully bounced Scott using his hips, then licked his nose. "I really
mean it, I didn't just kiss you with tongue to be polite. Roll off me on to
your back, I think I can make a believer out of you, or put another way
even a dense football player can understand, I want to suck you off right
now just like you did for me."

Scott rolled as instructed and kept on going, off the bed to the
floor. They both started laughing. Tom followed, landed on Scott and they
started roaring, compounded by tickling. Tom ended it by sliding down
Scott's body and taking his cock in his mouth. He wasn't sure he was doing
it right until Scott moaned and held his head. He made sure he tasted
before he swallowed and felt that he was ready to come again himself after
grinding his hips, fucking the hardwood floor between Scott's legs.

"Oh no you don't," Scott stopped him by holding him down using his heels
and calves on Tom's ass. "I have plans for that load, but first we have to
do something about the fucking beds. Get up, up, up," he pushed and prodded
Tom to his feet. Tom stood in the middle of the floor looking like a guilty
kid, watching the muscles in Scott's body while he worked to move the
bedside table between their beds, then push the beds together. He jerked
himself slowly. Scott saw him from the corner of his eye. "You stop that
this instant," he ordered with a giggle. "From now on you don't touch that
when it's hard, except maybe to steer, but I'll let you know if I need

Tom snapped to attention with his arms at his sides and his hands in tight
fists and watched his roommate suddenly and wonderfully turned lover, work
until he was satisfied. Scott stood at the foot of the improvised giant
bed, and fell backward. He landed on the crack, the beds separated and he
kept on going until he was once again lying on the floor. Tom cracked
up. He bent double from laughing and fell on the sofa. He recovered enough
to sit up. "Could I make a suggestion dumb ass?" He asked as Scott found
his feet, gave Tom a finger and stared frustrated hate at the innocent

"What?" Scott snapped, but with a grin to indicate he wasn't really mad.

"We could tie the frame legs together temporarily."

"What with, neckties?" Scott scoffed, but scooted to the closet and started
pushing hanging clothes around.

"How about extension cords for tonight?" Tom didn't wait for approval, he
went to the small kitchen area and separated the toaster and microwave from
their sources of power. He brought them back to the beds and tied the legs
together while Scott looked over his shoulder. He blushed suddenly when he
stood up to admire his handiwork. "Tomorrow I could get a couple of 'C'
clamps, that is if you want to kind of keep them together." He looked at
Scott shyly.

Scott pulled Tom into his arms and kissed him long and slowly. When he
pulled back for air he grinned, "We'll get those clamps as soon as the
stores open tomorrow. And food, we'll need enough to last until classes
start, so we don't need to go out. But tonight is tonight, let's really
test your engineering." He held Tom close and fell backward hard once
again. The extension cords worked. He grinned up at Tom lying on top of
him. He forced a hand between them and bent Tom's renewed erection
painfully until he arched his hips. He guided Tom into his crotch. "That's
where I want you for the next two days."

Tom hoisted an eyebrow, "Okay, and then what?"

Scott smiled; Tom's question was legitimately innocent. "Now whose dense
swimmer boy? I said I got laid all summer. I did, mostly in this
position. I discovered I like getting fucked. Carl was a top man, but he
wasn't hung like you. When he fucked me I imagined it was you in there, but
with your seven inches, you're gonna venture where no man's gone
before. Just make believe I'm Suzy."

Tom bounced his body on Scott a couple of times and giggled, "Are you
kidding? Every time I fucked her, I made believe she was you or one or two
other guys. You've been in my bedroom at home, all those pictures, I think
I've fucked everyone of my teammates in my mind before I met you. I think
I've just about worn your sorry ass out in my imagination."

Scott's hand snaked under the pillow on his former bed. He pulled out a
small bottle and held it against Tom's nose. Tom pushed it back so he could
focus to read the label, KY Liquid. Scott grinned, "I was planning to get
you so blasted tonight that you wouldn't know what you were doing. I
thought in the dark, you'd think you were fucking Suzy. Then in the morning
when you surfaced, I was hoping you'd want to fuck me again voluntarily. If
not I was going to rape you until you changed your mind."

"So now, what if I fuck you voluntarily to start with and you rape me
later? I'll warn you right now though, I don't plan to put up much of a
fight." Tom lifted himself with his arms a looked down between them. "Since
we're the same size in the cock department, I guess I won't get to start
out small and work up like you did, but I think I'll manage when it's my
turn on the bottom."

Scott blushed, "I'll try, but Carl was sort of strictly a top, so I'm kind
of a virgin there, with a guy."

Tom shrugged, "We both are then. Losing our cherries together should be

Tom smiled and downshifted to take a sharp curve without touching the
breaks, then pulled at his shorts to redirect his growing cock while he
recalled that first night of frantic sex. Each time one fucked the other
they showered together until the hot water grew tepid, then cold. They'd
race to the bed half dry and pull up the blankets to begin again. In the
morning, long after the stores opened they kept playfully trying to get out
of the bed. One would pull the other back to have, 'one for the road'. They
actually left the apartment to shop at noon. Their shopping list grew
overnight, and included the practical, like disposable enemas and the
esoteric such as massage oil and a broad assortment of other oils, cooking
oils which could always be used for cooking if they proved unsatisfactory
as lubricants. The KY they discovered, being water based tended to dry out
and the residue was nasty. They also visited an old movie house that sold
toys and blew their budgets buying an assortment they thought had definite
possibilities, including a pair of life like dildos, which were also
reasonably close to life-size. Tom grinned, he still had his and used it
occasionally, but it was a sorry substitute for the real thing. He and
Scott spent their final year of college immersed in one glorious orgy, with
intermissions for classes, studying, practices, games and meets. Since
graduation Tom was reduced to fucking Suzy when she called and marrying his
fist in between. Scott lived twelve hundred miles away. He thought of it as
a time of quiet desperation.

He downshifted a final time to turn into the DuBois, pronounced DoBoys,
driveway. The first person he saw as he approached the house, was Dooby
walking from the three car detached garage to the house. My name's Dooby,
"Dooby rhymes with Scooby!" pre-schooler Dooby told everyone, very
insistently if someone made the mistake of calling him Harold. As a
teenager of fourteen he would just ignore the offender as if he was deaf.

Dooby's eyes lit up when he saw the red Corvette rumbling toward him on the
drive. When he recognized Tom as the driver he started laughing, waving and
running. Tom sucked in his breath. Dooby was wearing a pair of red nylon
shorts and they were wet, water sparkled on his bare shoulders and still
ran from his hair. The thin material still clung wetly to his body and
outlined his manhood more clearly than Tom wanted to see just then. Dooby
was not wearing a jock. "Uncle Tommy! You got a Vet! Oh wow! This machine
is so choice, so cool! You're going to give me a ride right? Damn I wish I
had my license right now so I could drive it. Man ten minutes earlier and
you could have helped me vacuum the pool, but oh well, it's done."

Dooby walked with one hand on the door sill and kept twisting his body and
leaning into the car with his head in front of Tom's so he could look out
the windshield from the driver's perspective and study the instrumentation,
and chatter. When he talked he turned his head to look Tom in the eye so
their faces were separated by inches. Dooby's cock bounced and jiggled
seductively behind the thin material of his shorts in Tom's peripheral
vision as he moved with the car. Tom used the clutch to ease the car
forward to park as close as he could get to the kitchen door. He popped the
trunk. "Here, make yourself useful motor mouth," he handed two twelve packs
of beer to Dooby, then tucked a fifth of bourbon under one arm. "Take these
to your father please, and if you drop the bottle you're dead. I'll take
the damn beans in to your mom."

Dooby balked, "Shit Uncle Tommy, I can't go back out there near HIM! I just
escaped. He got me up at seven o'clock this morning to help him get set
up. I need a break." He mimicked his father perfectly, "Dooby do this,
Dooby do that, Dooby get off your ass and vacuum the pool. He's having this
picnic, not me."

Tom giggled, "I'll be out to see him as soon as I get rid of these
beans. Maybe he'll let you go with me, if you want to that is. I got here
early so I could run over to Benson's Sporting Goods before the shindig

Dooby's eyes widened, "Way cool! He'll let me go with you; he just won't
take me there, very often anyway. He says I'm a big spender and I cost him
too much before he can get me back outside." He lowered his voice,
"Actually Pop's a soft touch if I work him just right," he admitted

Benson's was unique among sporting goods stores. They offered inventory for
just about any sport, and classes to learn how to use the equipment. They
had a large indoor pool to teach scuba diving, kayaking and even
canoeing. A well-heeled customer could even buy one constructed of
glittering naturally finished mahogany. There was a pistol range, an
archery range and a room to try out snow skis on a mechanical slope. There
was even a wall outside for rock climbing. Golfers could play eighteen
holes on an interactive screen. You could hit baseballs or shoot
baskets. There was even special flooring that simulated ice.

Tom shook hands with his Uncle John, Dooby's father, over the bar with one
hand and received an overflowing double old fashion glass of bourbon and
ice with the other. Dooby was doing a dance of anticipation at his father's
side while John Paterson laughingly granted permission for Tom to take him
to Benson's with a few words of caution, "Keep your hand on your billfold
at all times or he'll have you bankrupt."

Dooby ran to the house to change clothes. "Damn Pop, you didn't have to
warn him," he screamed with a giggle.

Tom left the drink sitting on a block of ice in the beer tub. "I think I
might need this after we get back," he laughed. "Tell me Uncle John was
Dooby always so active? He burns calories like a hundred a minute."

John laughed and nodded, "Have you ever seen him eat? You know how he
vacuums the pool? From IN the pool with no handle. He uses a mask and
snorkel, up for air, then back down, then up again. He makes me tired just
watching him, but the little shit does a perfect job. He calls it good
exercise. I guess it is, he's developing a nice body, and he even made
varsity on the new Lacrosse team. He's fearless and ruthless. There are
still a couple of matches in the schedule, you'll have to come over and go
with us to see him in action. He'd love it if you were there watching
him. He thinks you're really cool for an old guy."

Tom nodded, "I will, that will be fun." Dooby rejoined them at a run. Tom
frowned, "I thought you said you were going to change?" he asked, then
thought, "God this is going to be a long day."

Dooby was wearing a tee shirt that was cut off high and old untied hightop
gym shoes without socks. Also it appeared that he'd pushed his shorts'
waistband down even lower than it was when Tom first arrived. His youthful
cock continued to push intermittently against the thin red nylon material
when he moved, which was constantly. He shrugged, "No I said I was going to
put some clothes on, and I did." He looked hopefully at his father; "Got
any money you could spare Pops?" He asked batting his blue saucer eyes
after watching Tom put on his sunglasses.

John rolled his eyes, "What happened to your allowance? I gave you that
yesterday." Tom saw his Uncle reaching to his pocket.

"I bought a couple of CD's after school." Dooby explained, then rushed on,
"Then I didn't have enough for a pair of sunglasses I meant to buy first."

"You'll lose them by tomorrow, you always do," John groused and handed over
a couple of bills.

Dooby checked the denominations then put his hand out again, "Not if I get
one of those lanyard things like Uncle Tommy's."

John peeled another bill from his folded money wearing a pained frown. He
looked his son up and down, "Buy a jock too for God's sake," he
ordered. Dooby's hand flashed out again. "Don't press your luck," his
father warned and jammed his hand in his shorts' pocket. "Get out of
here. You just got a month's advance!" He called to Dooby's back.

"THANKS DAD!" Dooby answered with a giggle as he raced ahead of Tom to the
corner of the house.

Dooby got comfortable in his bucket seat by sitting on one leg, half facing
Tom. When Tom turned his head to back up, his eyes flickered over Dooby's
shorts. The leg hem of his bent leg was gaping open. "Seat belt." Tom said
nervously, so Dooby would have to face forward, blocking his view of
Dooby's exposed very adult package.

Dooby looked behind Tom's seat. "Didn't you bring a bathing suit?" Then
answered his question, "Oh you're wearing it under your shorts." He looked
at Tom's crotch, "Nope, you aren't wearing it either."

Tom shook his head, "Nope I like warm water. Today is kind of rushing the

Dooby giggled, "Are you kidding me? I turned on the heater two weeks
ago. I've got it up to ninety. Just don't be around when Pop opens the gas

Tom shrugged, "I guess I might just buy one then."

"What else are you looking for?" Dooby asked.

"That's the only store who carries the brand of shorts I'm wearing. I don't
like the long ones I like them short like these and with pockets. These are
cotton and really nice and soft." Tom explained.

Dooby reached over and rubbed the top of Tom's thigh. "Yeah they are soft."
Tom's knuckles turned white at the first touch, then the second or two
Dooby's hand caressed his leg seemed like an hour. He prayed that he
wouldn't get hard because he wasn't wearing underwear or a jock either, and
his favorite shorts were too short for containing much.

The sunglasses were arrayed in racks on an island of glass display cases at
the entrance. The island also served as the checkout. The really good
brands were protected by glass under the counter. Dooby took one look at
the selection of cheapos he could try on without assistance, then looked
closely at the pair Tom was wearing. He circled the island until he was
almost back to where Tom stood before he pointed. He tried on the same
brand and style, only with a white frame. "Are these cool or what?" He
asked putting a nose print on the counters' mirror.

Tom agreed, "Yeah tough, but unless one of those bills your father gave you
was a hundred, you can't afford them." Dooby's face wilted. Tom remembered
his uncle telling him to keep his hand on his billfold, but, "Tell you
what, I'll pay for them. They'll be an early Christmas present, but you pay
for the neck thing so you don't lose them."

Dooby reanimated himself. "Wow thanks Uncle Tommy. I'll pay you back as
soon as I catch Dad in a good mood." He giggled then pulled the folded
bills his father gave him from his waistband. "Starting now, here," he
offered the money.

Tom pushed his hand away. "Nope, like I said, you buy a neck bungie. Keep
the rest for whatever, including a jock," he whispered. He told the sales
girl to put the glasses aside. Dooby made her promise not to sell them to
anyone else before he reluctantly handed them over.

Dooby's exuberance was catching. He and Tom laughed and joked their way
around the store. Tom bought three pairs of shorts for himself and a pair
for Dooby. Dooby picked out a Speedo in his size, actually two sizes
smaller than his twenty-eight-waist size, after Tom told him that was how
he always bought the suits for competition. The color and pattern matched
Tom's. Tom bought a twenty-eight and Dooby accused him of getting
flabby. He almost said old, but didn't want Tom to scream Harold in the
middle of the store. Their truce held.

Dooby steered Tom the small but comprehensive display of Lacrosse
equipment. He was interested in looking at sticks, stronger than his
aluminum stick which somehow got bent in the first match after Dooby
explained, he 'fell' on a member of the opposing team, an attacker, who
just happened to have the ball in his possession at the time. Dooby
caressed a graphite stick then lovingly stroked one made of titanium after
slashing the air around Tom's head and shoulders with both to gauge their
weight and feel.

"I'll buy you either one as a birthday present if it will save my life, but
if you swing at me once more, you're dead meat where you stand. This game
must be a tad rougher than I thought."

"If it wasn't rough, it wouldn't be any fun, but just look at all the gear
we have to wear. I guess I like the titanium the best because it looks like
aluminum, except they won't bend if I fall again," Dooby tried to look
angelic and failed. "But these are really expensive Uncle Tommy, and we
don't exchange gifts."

Tom shrugged, "I guess we just started. Besides, I'm going to your next
match so you need to win without excuses."

Back at the checkout counter where they started, Tom joined Dooby's few
purchases with his and again pushed Dooby's hand away when he tried to give
him all of his money. Dooby waited until Tom was signing the credit card
receipt then quickly stuffed the crumpled bills in Tom's side pocket. His
fingertips brushed Tom's cock through the thinner pocket material. Tom's
signature became unreadable. He looked into Dooby's eyes, but couldn't see
that he noticed the contact.

"Thanks Uncle Tommy, I mean that." Dooby said softly in Tom's ear.

Dooby told Tom to park under a big Maple tree in the middle of the lawn,
well away from the other cars that arrived while they were gone, so there
was no possibility that the Vet would come to harm when the drunken exodus
began later. Dooby led Tom into the kitchen and straight through the women
congregated there and politely fended off questions directed at Tom. He
acted like they were on their way to some emergency. Actually they were
going to Dooby's room to change into the new Speedo tank suits at Dooby's
insistence. Tom was more than willing to change in the bathroom. He didn't
even want to think about the two of them getting naked in Dooby's bedroom,
even for the seconds that it would take to trade shorts for swimsuits.

Tom hesitated by the first floor bedrooms. Dooby climbed the staircase to
the second floor skipping two at a time. "Up here Uncle Tommy, I moved," he
giggled at seeing Tom's surprise.

John DuBois was a building contractor; he built very large expensive homes
very slowly. He was a perfectionist and could have a waiting list ten years
long if anyone was willing to wait that long, which was why he didn't build
Tom's. He was like the shoemaker with a barefoot child when he built his
own home; it never seemed to get finished. The DuBois home was a classic
Cape Cod with a steep roof and three large dormer windows on each
side. They lived in the house for ten years and the second floor remained
unfinished. The three bedrooms on the first floor were supposed to be one
master suite. The second floor was supposed to house their three children
in separate rooms and there was supposed to be one guestroom there as
well. Tom looked around at the top of the stairs. The area remained wooden
studs and insulation and was used for storage.

Dooby sat on a double bed under one window. "I got tired of sleeping in the
same room with old Farty Artie, so I moved. Dad finished a bathroom for me
and hooked up some outlets, so now the whole second floor is my bedroom,
pretty cool huh?" Artie, Arthur, was Dooby's older brother, away at college
as a freshman. He was a nice guy, a straight 'A' student who was exactly
the opposite of Dooby when it came to personalities. Arthur was totally
introverted, he moved through the world without being noticed or heard. Tom
even forgot that he wasn't present for the picnic. "I call him Farty Artie
because that's why I moved up here. Big brother is one big gas attack. He
rips farts like other people snore." Dooby dumped the two sacks containing
their combined purchases on the bed and sorted them quickly. He continued
to wear his high fashion sunglasses. Come on; let's get changed. We can
take a quick dip, and then we better help Dad at the grill unless you like
eating burned hot dogs and burgers. By now he's got four of five beers
under his belt and he gets forgetful."

Dooby stood up and pulled off his cutoff tee shirt without touching his
glasses while he pried his untied gym shoes off without bending down. Then
he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pushed. The light
weight red nylon drifted slowly down his legs. Tom damned his habit of
letting his dark sunglasses hang around his neck as soon as he got out of
the sun. He had to look away from the fast maturing and already well
developed body posing in front of him, look away or stare with longing in
his eyes, there was no compromise.

Tom walked slowly to the bed with his eyes fixed on an old steamer trunk
Dooby was using as a night table by the bed. "This is really nice. It makes
a great table." The top or lid was all but hidden with magazines and an odd
assortment of a boy's pocket junk. Dooby picked up one Speedo and noticed a
tag dangling. He joined Tom standing by the trunk and bent slightly to push
the small stuff around. "There's a penknife here somewhere. We need to cut
these tags off or we'll pull the material." He was too close to Tom; he
took a side step to put some distance between him and Dooby's beautiful
naked body. Dooby looked up and grinned, "You could help you know, just
push the magazines off on the floor. Mom stores old clothes in this thing."
Dooby found the knife himself, and turned away from Tom to face the bed.

Tom pulled his shirt off over his head and risked a long look at Dooby's
back. His shoulders were already noticeably wide. He'd already started on
his summer tan which stopped abruptly at two small globes of muscle that
were separated by a short tight crack. His legs were long and
straight. Dooby turned and sat down again to pick at the four annoying
little stitches on the waistband of his new shorts that were left after the
cardboard tag was removed. Tom reluctantly pushed his shorts off then held
out his hand to Dooby to hand him his bathing suit.

Dooby looked up to study Tom's body, "You can tell we're related, we must
have gotten the gene from our mother's side of the family."

Tom chose to ignore the obvious, "What? We're both blondes?" Dooby seemed
to be holding Tom's Speedo hostage while his eyes roamed.

"No, well yeah, that too. I meant big cocks. I guess I can stop looking for
hair on my chest though, since yours is barely up to your belly
button. Bummer," Dooby laughed, "Of course on the brighter side I guess we
won't be combing our backs."

Tom felt himself getting hard and reached for his new suit lying on the bed
since Dooby wasn't planning to hand it to him. He managed to get his toes
snagged in the crotch, hopped on one foot, then lost it and fell on the
bed, thankfully, not on Dooby. Dooby impulsively tickled him in the side
once, then suddenly became all business, stood up and pulled on his own
suit quickly. The reason for his speed stretched the thin material. Tom
pulled his suit on lying on his back, stood up facing away from Dooby and
adjusted his cock so it pointed down.

"Shit," Dooby moaned, "does this ever stop? Getting a boner when you don't
want one I mean?"

Tom giggled nervously, "I'll let you know when it does. Come on we better
get downstairs and into the pool."

Dooby ran for the stairs. "I'll race you! Ready, set, go!" He shouted from
half way down, laughing maniacally.

The afternoon sped by. Tom and Dooby helped at grilling hot dogs, burgers
and Italian sausage, and were so efficient, John allowed them, actually
insisted that they repeat the performance at supper time alone. Supper was
steaks and shrimp kabobs. Tom kept saying he was going upstairs to get his
shorts, but then Dooby distracted him somehow and he never quite managed
it. Then after his second or third tall bourbon, being nearly naked didn't
matter anymore. Dooby wore his little suit proudly with no thought of
covering it with shorts. Both became Pied Pipers to the dozen or so younger
cousins and their friends. Anytime they went near the pool; all the kids
joined them, then fought among themselves for the honor of being dunked by
Dooby or Tom. They tossed kids from their shoulders and wrestled with them
in the water, but didn't touch each other.

Dooby picked out two of the thickest steaks and four of the shrimp skewers
for them to cook last, for themselves. They went in the family room to eat
in peace, sitting at the poker table in the corner. Tom sipped yet another
drink he fixed himself; nearly alcohol free while Dooby took long pulls
from a long neck Tom got for him.

In the quiet, Dooby looked around to be sure they were alone. "Uncle Tommy,
say a guy has the hots for someone, and the someone is too popular, with
too many friends already and doesn't know the guy is alive, what should the
guy do to get noticed?"

Tom chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before he answered with a shrug, "The
guy could always grow the balls to just ask the someone for a date."

Dooby shook his head, "The someone is older, a junior. The guy doesn't have
a driver's license and the someone does, and a car even. Besides, when I
say hots I mean as in getting laid, sex, not love."

Tom shrugged again, "I'm afraid I'm not the right guy to ask. I'm not a
virgin, but I'm no expert at seducing anyone either." He giggled suddenly,
"Now that I think about it, I was the one who got himself seduced. Maybe
you should be patient, shit happens."

"Yeah? Well it better happen fast, I'm tired of beating off. That's why I
moved up to the attic. Artie is kind of farty, but no worse than I am. I
needed the space to jerk off in privacy." It was his turn to giggle, "I
think I was putting a crimp in Artie's love life too by just being
there. He always waited until he thought I was asleep," a look of disgust
crossed Dooby's face. "He always wears pajamas, yuck. How can he sleep
after, with a wet load in there? If I were Mom, I'd make him do his own
laundry, or teach the dope what tissues are for, DUH!"

They were interrupted by the enchanted water rats. Since they were finished
eating, the kids wanted them for a last roughhouse session in the pool
before their parents called them to go home. Later, Tom found a chair by
his uncle near the bar. John insisted that he take to refilled glass he
offered, even though Tom insisted he had to drive thirty miles.

"Nonsense, sleep over, you can't walk on one leg." John laughed. "Why do
you think I like to hold this on Saturday?" He laughed harder and answered
himself, "So I have two days to sober up. The only time I can really drink
is on long holidays."

Dooby joined them; "Everyone's gone at last. Can I have a beer now Dad?
Just one won't hurt." His father agreed absently, and didn't see the grins
and winks the cousins exchanged. Dooby stretched out in the lawn chair and
crossed his legs. His relaxed concave belly accentuated his manhood, barely
hidden behind the thin material of his new Speedo. Tom looked away, leaned
forward to rest his elbows on his knees and gulped his drink.

Dooby finished his beer and suddenly had trouble keeping his eyes open. His
father noticed, and sent him to bed. He mumbled goodnight without
protest. An hour and one more drink later, Tom stood up, stretched, yawned
and told his Uncle that he's rack out on the sofa in the family room.

"No way, go on up and bunk in with Dooby. You could have used Artie's room
but I've got it torn up to paint in there before he gets home for the
summer. Just give him a shot in the ribs to make room. He'll never know
you're there until he wakes up in the morning." John giggled, "Boy that
will be a surprise. He idolizes you, ever since," he almost said the
funeral, "ever since December, when he was in your room, he's talked about
all your trophies and shit you won swimming. He wants to do just as well in
Lacrosse, and even wants to go to a college where they have it as a
sport. You've given him the incentive to go to college, before, he just
wanted to be a carpenter like me." John stood up and wavered. He grabbed
Tom's arm for support then continued, "I'll teach him to be the best
carpenter he can after he graduates from college so he can take over the
business. I'm even getting around to incorporating like your dad did. Next
month we'll be DuBois and Son, Incorporated, I like the ring of that."

Tom groped his way across the floor using the dim light from the
stairwell. He was suddenly wide-awake but still more than half-inebriated,
enough to destroy his inhibitions. His erection caught in the waistband of
his suit when he pushed it down his legs standing at the side of Dooby's
bed. He freed his cock with his right hand, then was reluctant to let go
while he studied the bed. He could see Dooby's outline clearly on the
boldly checkered bottom sheet. Tom didn't remember seeing a top sheet or a
blanket earlier. Dooby was lying on his back in the middle of the bed with
his body clearly interrupting the sheets' pattern. He looked like he'd been
crucified with his arms and legs spread wide. Tom frowned, he was hoping
that Dooby would be curled up on one side of the bed so he wouldn't have to
touch him, even his arm.

He sat on the edge of the bed slowly and carefully. He closed his thighs to
at least hide half his length between his legs, so Dooby couldn't see him
if he did wake up when Tom moved his arm. He planned to lie on his side
right on the edge of the bed facing away from Dooby. He knew he wasn't
going to jerk off and hoped he had enough alcohol in him to put himself to
sleep quickly. He reached out and took Dooby's arm by the wrist and slowly
moved it to his side. His knuckles brushed Dooby's hip. He pulled his hand
back. Dooby moaned. His body rippled and his arm returned to where it was
before Tom moved it.

Tom sighed. He reached out to Dooby's side, intending to nudge him and
maybe rouse him just enough to make him move his arm, or ideally to roll to
the other side of the bed. Tom's fingertips touched Dooby but he couldn't
make them do any nudging without first exploring. They moved to the warm
hard hip, got bolder and dropped to the thigh. His palm joined his fingers
on top of Dooby's thigh, then moved down to his knee, his upper legs were
hairless and would remain that way from a few more years. What hair did
grow there would be soft and silky, at least through age twenty-three, if
Dooby's body followed the same course Tom's was taking.

His hand moved slowly, even more lightly back up Dooby's thigh on the
inside until it encountered a tight scrotum. Tom couldn't blame his errant
hand any longer. He first cupped the firm pair, then moved to brush, just
brush Dooby's sleeping cock where it lay on his belly before he pulled it
back to nudge him to make him move. Dooby's cock was rock hard. Tom's hand
lingered a few seconds before the temptation to hold him became
overwhelming. He lifted the young cock and stroked it to gauge its
length. Tom tried to recollect if his own cock was fully-grown when he was
fourteen. He shrugged mentally; his cock always seemed to be the same
size. Dooby's hips suddenly lifted his cock further into Tom's hand. Tom's
grip tightened before shock intruded into his lecherous thoughts, and the
picture of him being led away in handcuffs, bruised and bloody after his
uncle beat him half to death replaced the image of Dooby's hard cock
disappearing into Tom's mouth. His grip lightened and he started to return
the virgin cock to its owner's belly when Dooby's hand locked on his wrist.

"Don't stop Uncle Tommy, that feels sooo good." The whispered drawn out so,
crashed into Tom's head at a thousand decibels. Tom jerked his hand away,
stood up and backed away.

Tom was almost in tears, "Dooby! I'm drunk, more than I thought. I'm sorry,
I didn't mean to, I, I just couldn't stop myself."

Dooby moved to roll to the side of the bed. He struck a match and lit a fat
candle that was sitting on the old trunk. Tom knew that the candle wasn't
there when they were up there to change earlier. The flame
brightened. Dooby held his cock and grinned with his eyes fixed on Tom's
still hard cock. "You're right, shit happens. Like I wanted this to
happen," he whispered and wiggled back on the bed to make room for Tom, but
remained on his side with his head propped on his hand. "Come on," he
coaxed, "I'm just tired of being a virgin, and I think I like guys. Check
that, I know I like guys and you said to seduce you, sooo."

Tom blamed his legs for moving his body to the bed. He sat down
again. Dooby took his limp hand and returned it to his cock, when he let go
it remained and held him once again but without moving. Dooby shook his
head in mock disgust and wiggled back on the bed further careful not to
shake Tom's tentative grip. Tom's hand, his arm, then the rest on his body
followed until his body shaded Dooby's from the flickering candle.

Dooby reached out and first touched Tom's cock lightly then held him and
yanked him forward until they touched. Tom joined his cock to Dooby's and
squeezed them together. "Oh wow. I'm a little fuzzy on what to do next, you
know before we really get it on with each other. I've got two magazines,
but they're both hard core and the guys don't look like they're having much
fun. It should be fun shouldn't it?"

Tom giggled quietly, "Yeah it should be fun. It is fun; this is fun, isn't
it? But first tell me how you knew about me. What did I do, how could you

"I just could that's all, and I'm glad you are. Can you maybe show me some
stuff now and talk later? You squeezing me like that makes me want to shoot
a load and we don't want that yet do we? I mean that's not how I imagined
it and all."

Tom released his joint hold quickly and pulled Dooby against his body
before he rolled them both so Dooby was on his back and he was half on top
of him. "I'm not very experienced contrary to what you think with my
advanced age and all. So far there's been just my roommate in college we
used to make out for hours." Tom leaned down and gave Dooby a chaste kiss
on the lips.

Dooby frowned up at him, "That's making out?"

Tom smiled down on him, "Nope that was just for you being Dooby, maybe as a
thank you. This is making out." By the time their lips touched Dooby had
his mouth open like a starving chick waiting for a juicy caterpillar. He
sucked Tom's tongue in and held it then thrust his into Tom's mouth. They
started dueling and breathed through their noses noisily. Dooby began
sucking the saliva from Tom's mouth, and swallowed without breaking contact
until Tom pulled away five minutes later.

"Wow that was some kiss for an alleged beginner, were you trying to suck me
dry?" Tom asked playfully, working his hips dry humping Dooby's thigh.

"Nope, just practicing for the real thing," Dooby answered honestly. "I
figure that if I can swallow your spit than downing your cum shouldn't be a

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I won't let you suck me off. I've been with
another guy remember? We never used rubbers and he wasn't a virgin when we
started. We do this safely, or not at all." Tom didn't wait for the
argument he saw developing in Dooby's eyes, he walked backward down Dooby's
body on his elbows and toes until Dooby's cock was fully exposed. "Now you
on the other hand are a virgin, a cherry, or even a chicken," he smiled
when Dooby made a face at the last name, "which I guess makes me a hawk as
in chicken hawk, and I plan to eat you up starting just about now." Dooby
grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Tom giggled. "It's too late to try and
talk me out of it, so don't try."

"Are you fucking kidding?" Dooby asked too loudly while he looked honestly
amazed. Then he realized Tom was joking. "I get it, fun and funny. HA! HA!
Can I watch?"

"Sure watching is fun, and getting sucked off feels good, that's what sex
is all about. End of lesson." Tom lowered his head with his mouth
open. Dooby arched his body and moaned. His young cum gushed, Tom sucked
and swallowed before he looked up and grinned. "If you were watching that
and blinked, you missed it."

Dooby sputtered, "But, but,"

"But me no buts boy, we'll just start all over. You should slow down this
time, and by the fifth or sixth time tonight you should get it right."
Dooby remained fully hard in Tom's hand.

Dooby knew Tom was joking that time. "That should take care of the next
fifteen minutes. Are you giving up on me that quickly? Boy some teacher you
are," he giggled. He patted Tom on the head, "By the way, if you stroke me
much more like you're doing, you're the one who's going to miss it." Tom
covered him with his mouth, unsure if Dooby was joking. "After you get done
with this load can I suck you off? Not all the way," he amended, "just
until you come all over the place." He sighed pitifully, "I guess that will
have to do." Tom was busy. He just nodded. He didn't see the gleam in
Dooby's eyes. He exploded into Tom's mouth the second time in around five
minutes if either was watching the clock. They weren't.

"My turn," Dooby whispered after he yanked Tom back up his body so they
were again face to face without the slightest pause to take a breather. He
locked his lips on Tom's to taste himself in Tom's mouth as they rolled. He
crab walked backward then settled down, holding Tom's cock aloft like a
trophy. "I've done this so many times in my mind since winter, after I saw
your body in those pictures. I decided you were going to be my first, and
here you are." He lowered his open mouth eagerly with no hesitation. He
milked Tom and collected the accumulated precum like a vacuum.

The entire day had been one long sensual experience for Tom. His thoughts
of Scott, the innuendoes, the references to cocks, bodies, his and Dooby's,
Dooby's constant near nakedness, his own desire to display his body to
Dooby, everything was part of a courting ritual. They were two hawks, one
younger; there was no chicken.

He watched Dooby make love to his cock. Dooby worked to take him all. The
hand he was using left off holding him up. Dooby encircled both his thighs
with his arms and locked his fingers under Tom so he couldn't be dislodged
easily at the last moment. Tom ran his fingers through Dooby's shaggy
golden hair that hid his handsome tanned face with a permanent blush of red
high on each cheek. Dooby's lips disappeared in Tom's pale gray brown
pubes. Dooby had his cock in his throat. He lifted his head an inch or two,
no more, before it sank again. The day, the boy and the warm tightness
combined to destroy Tom's staying power.

"Dooby, pull off! Finish me with your hand!" Tom whispered harshly and
urgently through clenched teeth. Dooby's response was to move his head
faster while keeping his lips close to Tom's body. Then he noticed that his
legs were surrounded by Dooby's arms in a death grip. He pushed at Dooby's
shoulders and tried to lift his head. Dooby's neck muscles stood out in
strain and he felt teeth rake his cock. When he stopped pushing the biting
stopped. Dooby was warning him. "Dooby! You little shit! Don't! Please!" He
moaned, unable to fight, it was already too late. There was no need for
Dooby to swallow.

Dooby lifted his head allowing Tom's cock to slap his belly as it fell. He
wore a giant grin of pleasure and satisfaction. "GOTCHA!" He sang in a tiny
voice before he started on his defense. "That was my first time, I had to."
His grin was replaced with a frown on seeing his cousin's look of horror,
anger then resignation; "I just had to. Didn't you your first time? I bet
you did, that's why you and your roomy never used condoms, it was already
too late."

"Damn it Dooby you're a fool." Tom answered in a mumble looking away, which
didn't answer Dooby's question, but really did. Dooby guessed
correctly. "So we were fools too. You didn't have to join us."

"Oh yes I did. The first time, yours, anyone's, or mine is special. It's
got to be great, just like we imagined it. Think about it Uncle Tommy, who
in their right minds can go through life with a fucking condom between them
and their lover, especially their first one?"

Tom blinked and looked Dooby in the eyes again, "Damn Dooby, how old did
you say you were?" He giggled softly and pulled Dooby up on his
chest. Dooby rested his head on Tom's shoulder and hugged him. Tom hugged
him back. "You know for a first timer that was expert except when you
showed your fangs."

Dooby kissed Tom then pulled back and grinned, "Are you going to fuck me
now? You just have too, I have to know what it feels like tonight with
you," he went on the offensive over the condom issue without waiting for
Tom to refuse, "and don't mention rubbers. Do you have any?" Tom shook his
head. "Well I don't either." Tom saw the lie there, all fourteen year old
boys had them, it was a teenage imperative, a must have, part of the rite
of passage into adulthood. He did, his friends did. The first few were
squandered just trying them on, and discovering they don't roll back up if
indeed they don't tear trying to put one on the first time. Then there was
the need of absolutely having to jerk off in one, the first and studying
the receptacle tip filled with cum, checking for leaks and discovering that
a callused hand tore the shit out of it. All this before the fascination
with ownership dims and hope of early use begins.

Tom's cock grew up his belly to cover his navel beside Dooby's, already
there in anticipation of just the thought, the hope of his agreement. Tom
couldn't force himself to say yes, but he remembered his first time and
with Scott's last deep thrust the actual feel of his spurting cum. He
imagined it spreading through his gut; the experience was thrilling, he
decided Dooby deserved equal time and God damn all diseases. "Have you got
anything for lube?" He asked, looking away from Dooby's eyes.

Dooby's weight suddenly disappeared from his body. The bed shook violently,
"Do I!" Dooby almost shouted over his shoulder as he scooted to the
bathroom. He returned carrying a bottle of baby oil in one hand and a jar
of Vaseline in the other. He offered Tom his choice kneeling on the
bed. Tom tapped the baby oil, before he extended his hand to Dooby's chest,
explored his small hard nipples, and then slowly lowered it over his
tightly wrinkled gut to hold the very hard cock that protruded proudly from
between his closed legs. "You have such a fantastic body, it's hard for me
to believe you want to give it to me. You understand that for me, fucking
is habit forming. Once tonight won't be enough."

"Wow, compliments like that and your touch just like you did it, is even
better than making out."

"Do you want me to get you off before or after?" Tom asked.

Dooby stood up on his knees and thrust himself into Tom's hand. "Now would
be a good time." He admitted through clenched teeth.

"Damn Dooby, hold on man, straddle my chest then lean forward." Tom
chuckled softly, "If you're interested, this would be called fucking me in
the mouth."

Dooby ended the lesson by stabbing for Tom's larynx, he giggled as he
started thrusting, "Fuck you Tommy." He laughed louder, "Hey that's what
I'm doing," he hesitated, his body rippled, "was doing," he amended.

Tom didn't speak; he pushed Dooby away, then swept him off his knees, and
twisted him so he ended on his back, with the ease and speed of a
collegiate wrestler. He grinned at Dooby from between his lifted and spread
legs. Dooby grabbed his legs away from Tom and pulled them back until his
feet bracketed his own head, then watched Tom spit into his hand, and cover
his cock with the resulting puddle. Then Dooby felt the first slick finger
enter his ass. "Relax Dooby, think relaxed." He worked his finger until it
moved easily, "Now I'm going to add another finger, then a third, just stay
relaxed," he warned. "Cum is a great natural lubricant. I really don't like
the smell of baby oil although it works all right. Vaseline now is really
nasty, it's not really slippery, it stinks and it's too hard to wash away."

Dooby sighed, "Could we hold the lesson for later and just get on with
fucking me please?" He moaned, "Man three fingers feels great! Oh yeah!"

Tom walked on his knees until he touched warm hard flesh, then quickly
replaced his fingers with his cock, only the head to start with, watching
Dooby' face for signs of pain. Dooby sucked in some air through his mouth
and nodded. Tom eased himself forward, then leaned his body forward over
Dooby's holding himself clear with his arms. "Look down watch it
disappear," he whispered, "ever so slowly. Imagine where my head is in your
body. Two guys can't get any closer than this." Tom stretched out his legs
and went up on his toes then finally allowed his body to rest on the back
of Dooby's legs.

Dooby's eyes were like saucers; his expression was one of amazement and
unblinking wonder. "Oh Tommy! I never imagined it could be like this." His
arms encircled Tom's back then went down to his ass to pull him deeper.

"I'm sorry, that's all there is, except for this," Tom smiled and started
moving his hips, imperceptibly at first, then faster, but always deep. He
moaned his reason, "I'm so close Dooby, so close and I don't want this to
end, ever." Dooby pulled his head down and kissed him, sucked his tongue in
and held it with his teeth. Tom's body shuddered suddenly and froze. Dooby
released his tongue as his body convulsed again and again with his lips
glued to the side of Tom's neck where it joined his shoulder. Tom felt the
sucking and pulled away. "No hickeys!" he whispered breathlessly. Dooby's
cum pooled in his navel then was spread by small movements of Tom's
body. He lifted his head and grinned, "Again?"

"Sure if you can. All night if you want."

"No fool, I meant you, you came again?" Tom asked with a giggle.

"Wasn't I supposed too? You didn't tell me that rule. I don't think it
would matter if you did, my cock has a head of it's own." Dooby giggled at
his joke.

Tom kissed his giggle, "'I get it, fun and funny. HA! HA!'" He quoted

In Dooby's shower, half an hour later, Dooby imitated his mother scolding
him as a child while he soaped and washed Tom, "Tommy! Can't you stay clean
for even five minutes? You can't go out in public like this. Do you think
all I have to do around here is do laundry and wash you?"

Tom laughed and nodded, "Sorry about that. Our mother's are definitely
sisters. All sex is a little dirty, but there's a way to get around this
mostly. We douche out, take an enema, colonic irrigation, whatever you want
to call it, it helps big time." Tom giggled as his cock grew in Dooby's
soapy hands, "I've got to tell you, my mamma never washed me like this."

"I don't have anything to do it with up here. I'll go check out my parent's
bathroom." Dooby pushed open the shower door.

Tom stopped him, "You will not. If you wake up your dad, I'm dead and
you'll at least be bruised and battered. Cool it, we'll make do tonight."
He pulled Dooby against his body and kissed him. "I told you this was habit
forming, so if you aren't doing anything the rest of the weekend, how about
coming home with me?"

"Yeah! That's what I planned, only now I don't have to stowaway in your
trunk." Dooby giggled, then rubbed his finger over the base of Tom's
neck. "I'm glad you stopped me when you did it could be worse. Maybe no one
will notice. A real hickey would be as hard to explain as why you were
wearing a scarf tomorrow morning at breakfast."

Tom tried to get Dooby on top when they got back in bed, but Dooby refused
because once on the bottom was not enough. Tom insisted by lying on his
back, Dooby grinned and impaled himself. Tom held him down until Dooby
promised that he'd be the man of Tom's house the following weekend. Except
Dooby substituted 'boss' for 'man'. They made love with each other until
they slowed down and finally slept, spent and exhausted, spooned together
and connected by Tom's cock. They kissed and grinned at each other in the
morning, under the shower after they made love there a final time when
Dooby wondered aloud when they started saying, make love rather than
fuck. Tom suggested that maybe they were just getting good at it, sensitive
to each other's desires.

Dooby raced ahead of Tom, dressed in the shorts Tom bought for him. The
smell of coffee and bacon was overwhelming. Tom met his Uncle John in the
downstairs hall near the door to John's den, which also served as his
office. He looked at Tom a bit bleary-eyed but he was smiling. "Got a
minute?" John asked and ushered Tom in then closed the door. Tom's stomach
tightened when the latch clicked. His uncle's smile appeared to be
benign. Tom didn't know how he looked, but he was suddenly scared. John
raised an eyebrow and pushed the collar of Tom's shirt back with one finger
to fully reveal the slight mouth-shaped redness, the almost hickey. He
smiled, "I see he got you where it shows." He saw Tom's sudden fear,
"Relax, we've known about Dooby for a year. His mother found two gay
magazines hidden in an old trunk she uses to store seasonal clothes. We're
disappointed about not having his kids around, but we've adjusted to his
being gay. We were concerned about the guy he'd choose to be his first, you
know, the first. He hasn't stopped talking about you since December, I told
you that. We wondered. Then when we watched you two together yesterday, we
knew it was going to be you. Frankly, we're glad."

"You are?" Tom gulped he was incredulous.

"Yup, we sure are," John smiled. "Did you two ever get any sleep last
night? You sure were noisy." Tom looked surprised. His uncle laughed and
nodded, "First, there's no finished flooring up there, no carpet or
padding, our bedroom is directly under where Dooby put his bed. Then
there's that damn old bed; it thunks kind of when it's used, that way. Your
aunt and I were keeping score, but we fell asleep waiting for you to get
out of the shower for the third time." He yawned loudly, "Damn I wish I
still had your stamina, or ever had it. Anyway, are you two in love, or is
Dooby in love with you?" He asked suddenly.

Tom answered honestly with the shake of his head, "No sir, not yet that
is. We could be, I could anyway, Dooby's easy to love he's a great kid. He
wanted me as a teacher first, then he has a serious eye on a certain
someone, I think on the Lacrosse team, a junior, with a driver's license
and wheels, he didn't mention a name." He giggled at a thought, "You know
he kept saying someone, and I kept thinking a girl, an older woman."

John nodded, "The kid's got good taste, the name would be Christian Dunn,
the lockers in the team locker room are assigned alphabetically according
to Dooby. It was between you and him, Dooby talks about him a lot
too. We're glad it was you first. Are you planning to take him home with
you for the rest of the weekend?"

Tom's head was reeling, he couldn't believe he was having the conversation
about Dooby. "We were going to ask about that at breakfast. Is it all right

John nodded tiredly, "Of course it is. One thing though, a favor? Will you
tell him we know, and it's okay, well, not okay," he amended, "we know, and
we'll adjust together starting Monday evening when you bring him home?"

"Sure I'll tell him. I don't know how, I'll have to think about that." Tom
shrugged, "I think he wants you to know. I wanted to tell my parents when I
first admitted to myself, you know, but I couldn't. It doesn't really mean
anything, I mean, we're still the same. We didn't decide suddenly, it grows
up with us. I see a girl still, but I don't see her when I'm." Tom blushed

John stopped Tom's attempt to explain. "There's no cure, because it isn't
an illness. I think I've come to understand that. One thing though, a
warning I plan to give all Dooby's boyfriends," he winced, "you don't know
how hard that is to say. Anyway, I'm always going to be a protective parent
and I never want to see him really hurt, the warning is this; hurt him and
I'll kill you." John smiled slightly, "And for the record, I'm not talking

                                                        Back    main    next

Email Jamie