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Message-ID: <58314asstr$1228479002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} ST: "The Brewsters Celebrate Mardi Gras - Part 1/2" (t/t, m/m)
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Date: Fri, 05 Dec 2008 07:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Caution/Welcome.  This is a story involving four brothers between the ages
of thirteen and seventeen, their forty-five-year-old father and a fortysome
married gay couple, their gay twenty-one-year-old nephew and his boyfriend,
sundry hot and spicy Cajun and dark and sexy Creole boys, some Voodoo and a
lot of sex in the Big Easy during Mardi Gras.  It is posted at free gay
adult story sites for adult entertainment only.  Permission is not given to
copy electronically nor in any other form for the purpose of redistribution
or posting at sites other than those just described.  This is the
forty-ninth story in the Brewster Adventures special events and myths
series.  Chronologically it follows the forty-eighth story in the series,
"The Brewsters Celebrate Boy Scout Day", but like the other stories in this
series it is a stand alone story that can be read totally on its own. 
Comments, Mardi Gras beads and all expense paid invites to future Mardi
Gras celebrations can be sent to the author J.O.  Dickingson at
authorsix@hotmail.com THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE MARDI GRAS - PART 1/2

   "Ungh!  Unnnnh!  Oh fuck.  Oh yeah.  This is the one.  I'm gonna cum.  I
can feel it!" "Bobby, keep it down," whispered his fifteen-year-old
brother, Benny.  "Ungh!  Mmmmungh!  Ahhhhghn," thirteen-year-old Bobby
gasped as he arched his back and trembled violently with his orgasm, once
again dry despite his premonition but just as powerful and as pleasurable
as any wet climax his three older brothers had ever achieved.  He sank back
down amongst the soft pillows and the thick comforter with a white and pale
blue floral design covering the bed he and Benny were sharing.  Seconds
later Benny, who'd been jacking off beside his kid brother just as
enthusiastically if more quietly, threw back his head and shot his thick,
teenage load into the handful of Kleenex he'd been holding in readiness in
his other hand.  Breathing heavily he continued to stroke his thick,
impressive cock, now only an eighth of an inch away from six inches,
milking out his thick cum as his seventeen-year-old twin brothers, Brent
and Brett, rhythmically jerking each other off with years of experience,
stretched out their long legs on the pair of sleeping bags covering the
floor of the tiny guest bedroom as they shot off their loads
simultaneously, catching each other's creamy, copious load in their
unoccupied hand.  The white and pale blue patterned wallpaper, the old cast
iron bed, and the ornate matching pitcher and washbasin on the night table
spoke of a bygone era as the four brothers engaged in a pleasure as old as
mankind.  For the next five minutes all that could be heard in the tiny
guestroom was the heavy breathing of the four teenage brothers as they
relished their post-climatic flush and as their smooth, naked chests rose
and fell in rhythmic unison.  "Jeez, Bobby, if you're gonna make that much
noise you'd better not jack off anymore until we're back in our own
bedroom," observed Brent as he squeezed the remaining marrow out of his
brother's still stiff cock, his and his brother's mushroom-shaped knobs
glistening with their fresh cum in the moonlight shining in through the
open window.  "Not until we get home?  That's four fucking nights from now!
I so can't not do it for that long!" Bobby protested in his high soprano,
his voice not yet having changed.  "Will you keep your voice down?"
cautioned Brent again.  The house they were staying in had thin walls and
their hosts were sleeping right next door.  "Well, I can't not do it that
long," Bobby repeated with a pout.  "Sides, I thought for sure I was going
to squirt this time." His three brothers rolled their eyes.  For the past
six months their kid brother was certain he was going to squirt each time
he jerked off, and he was jerking off two or three times a day minimum. 
"Maybe you should just try to stop thinking about that each time you do it
and just concentrate on how good your dink is feeling," Benny advised as he
propped himself up on one elbow.  "It's gonna happen sooner or later and
concentrating on it and wishing for it isn't going to make it happen any
sooner." "But why does it have to be later?  You started cumming when you
was twelve." Benny smiled as he cupped his sweaty balls and fondled them as
he thought back to his first wet orgasm almost three years ago now.  He
remembered the event perfectly.  He'd been twelve and seven months to be
exact, and it had happened on Father's Day.  It had been totally awesome
and he would never forget it.  "It will happen when it happens," he
sympathized philosophically.  "Maybe you're trying too hard." "Yeah, maybe
you're getting yourself too tense or something," suggested Brett, the
logical thinker among the four boys.  He brushed his long, blond hair out
of his eyes as he yawned.  "Of course I was tense.  I was fucking tense. 
Don't you get fucking tense when you have a fucking orgasm?" Bobby snapped
irritably.  Brett didn't retort.  He knew how disappointed his kid brother
was that he hadn't had a wet orgasm and let it pass.  Bobby immediately
regretted his sharp comeback also.  He knew his brother was only trying to
be helpful.  "Maybe it's plugged up or something.  Maybe if you sucked on
it you could suck out whatever's blocking it," he suggested, propping
himself up on an elbow and looking over at his older brother laying on the
floor beside his twin.  Brent had removed his earrings and nipple ring and
other piercings and looking at the two of them was like looking at two peas
in a pod, two handsome, blond, smooth-bodied peas with pendulous balls and
huge, now flaccid dicks.  "Good try, brother.  Maybe tomorrow night, if you
promise not to make so much noise.  Right now I'm beat.  It's been a long,
busy day, and tomorrow is going to be busy too," Brett replied, not exactly
sure if his kid brother had been joking or had been serious.  With Bobby
and his wild ideas it was often hard to tell.  "Right.  We'd better all get
some sleep," agreed Benny as he closed his eyes and thought about the
events that had lead to him and his three brothers ending up in New
Orleans. Some guy who owned a chain of pet grooming studios in France had
been introduced to the WeCare Pet Supplies line of grooming products by a
relative of his living in Montreal where the WeCare company had recently
opened up a store, and he had made inquiries about distributing the
products in France through his grooming studios.  In that it would mean
making inroads in the pet supply business in Europe, and in that the man
was planning an upcoming trip to the United States to visit relatives in
New Orleans, their father, Barry, as the company's Third Vice President,
had been selected to fly down to meet with him.  Their uncle, Barry's
younger brother, James, upon learning he was going to New Orleans at the
beginning of the Mardi Gras weekend, convinced him to make a holiday of it
and had arranged for him to spend the weekend with two good friends of his.
Their mother knew how hard their dad had been working since his promotion
to Third Vice President and was all for him taking a bit of a holiday on
his own.  Unfortunately, the day before he was to leave, she received a
call that her younger sister had been in a serious accident on their ranch
in Texas.  She was able to make last minute arrangements to fly down with
the triplets, who had turned two only eleven days ago, to be with her
sister and to help look after her children during the emergency.  Unable to
arrange for their four sons to accompany her and hesitant to leave them on
their own for five days, not because they didn't trust their boys but
because they knew not all teenagers were as decent and law-abiding as their
boys were and what happened when it was discovered there was a home with no
adults around, Barry decided to cancel his weekend plans and to fly back to
Crestview after his meeting as he'd intended initially.  Knowing how he'd
been looking forward to the break, his boys of course protested, and
feeling guilty, Brenda decided she'd cancel her plans, which of course
Barry didn't want her to do.  The whole thing had become a mess.  Although
the boys said they could stay with their friends and Barry and Brenda knew
their boys' friends' parents would readily agree, they figured five days
was a long time and they were not the type to impose on others.  Besides,
though they trusted their boys, they knew they could be mischievous, full
of piss and vinegar as the boys' grandfather put it, and at that age where
their hormones were rampant, and they didn't want to impose looking after a
randy teen for five days on anyone.  Not wanting to see either of his
parents disappointed, Brett, the one in the family most likely to keep his
cool in an emergency, made a secret call to his uncle James.  His uncle was
the president of Novatron Oil and alternated living in his condos in
Orlando, Calgary, Zurich, and Firenze during the year.  He had married the
owner of an international chain of Italian restaurants, Romano Carboni, on
Flag Day last year and the whole family had attended the wedding.  Brett
had figured if anyone had the wisdom and experience to solve their problem,
not to mention the money and the influence, it would be his uncle.  James's
solution, to everyone's surprise though they shouldn't have been given the
man's nature and way of thinking, was to have his private jet fly Barry and
his sons to New Orleans.  Arriving early Friday morning, the last day of
February, while their father headed off to his meeting, the four brothers,
promising to be careful and to keep an eye on each other, took the morning
Gray Line Super City tour.  Driving through the French Quarter, already
crowded with tourists for the decadent weekend, stopping at one of New
Orleans' three "Cities of the Dead," and continuing along the Bayou St. 
John to Lake Pontchartrain, all four boys dreamed of living during the days
of piracy and Voodoo priestesses as their guide told of the exploits of the
pirate Jean Lafitte who sailed the waterway.  Continuing on through the
Garden district, their dreams turned to living in the stately mansions in
the 1800's as they learned about the former Kings and Queens of Mardi Gras
and rich plantation owners, all four boys having very vivid and active
imaginations.  Finally driving past the Audubon Zoo and Tulane and Loyola
Universities, they were reminded that Brent and Brett would soon be
graduating and leaving home, something the twins were looking forward to
with excitement, but also with a touch of sadness.  The four boys were very
close and it would be their first time apart.  That afternoon they and
their dad explored the French Quarter along with several thousand other
tourists, the streets being particularly crowded with the improved weather
after severe storms had cancelled the parades and festivities on Wednesday
and with the federal government having switched the terrorist alert from
orange to yellow the day before they'd left.  Checking out the profusion of
local crafts and the unique array of Louisiana vegetables and fresh fish at
the French market and each purchasing feathered masks, which they were told
everyone wore during Mardi Gras, they sampled the spicy fare of New Orleans
as they strolled between the food booths lining Dutch Alley adjacent to the
Market between Dumaine and St.  Phillip Streets.  Wandering through the
Jackson Brewery, a former brewery and now a four-story shopping complex,
and the more modern Riverwalk Marketplace, they looked for gifts for their
Aunt Debra and for their mother to cheer her up and for the triplets upon
whom all five doted.  Their hosts, James's friends Philippe Dumont and
Henri Duhamell, a gay couple in their mid-forties who'd been living
together for the past twenty years and had recently married, joined them at
the Grey Line Lighthouse and treated them to a dinner/jazz cruise on the
Steamboat Natchez.  Brent particularly enjoyed listening to the jazz band
in that he played trumpet in the Crestview Heights High School Band, though
it did remind him of Cam Souyong, his fellow band mate and lover for the
past two years, and he wished Cam was there with him.  Of course they all
enjoyed the experience of sailing along the Mississippi and the elaborate
banquet of fresh seafood.  It was a fitting end to their first day in the
Big Easy, and after their flight and a full day of touring, it was no
wonder the four boys were exhausted and fell asleep with their fingers
still wrapped about their young cocks.  The following morning their two
hosts treated them to a breakfast of sausages and French crepes stuffed
with blueberries and smothered with whipped cream until they all were about
to burst, Philippe being a marvellous cook.  Catching the St.  Charles
Avenue streetcar to the uptown area, they took in their first parade, the
Iris Krewe Parade, and experienced their first throws.  Despite the heavy
crowds and the younger children perched on seats on the tops of ladders for
a better view and a better target to catch the trinkets being thrown off
the floats, the four boys, being particularly attractive and having joined
in the festivities with their feathered masks, caught their fair share of
beads, doubloons and bags of chips and peanuts.  Following the parade,
while their father went off for a second meeting with the French
entrepreneur, his first having generated a definite interest in doing more
than just adding the grooming products of WeCare to the man's studios, the
Brewster brothers along with Philippe's twenty-one-year-old nephew Andre
grabbed a quick bite at a Popeye Fried Chicken and caught the afternoon
two-hour City of the Dead tour of St.  Louis Cemetery #1.  Bobby and Brent
particularly got caught up in the tales of witchcraft, vampires and black
magic spun by their guide, Brent of course because the seventeen-year-old
was not only interested in history but was also a full member of the Wiccan
coven back in Crestview along with his boyfriend of almost two years, and
Bobby because he was thirteen and liked anything weird.  The four boys,
having celebrated the Day of the Dead in Mexico just over a year ago, could
not help but recall that adventure, and the hot fun they'd had with some
sexy Mexican brothers, which of course resulted in all four popping boners.
Having inherited the Brewster genes for endowment, that made their
condition particularly difficult to hide and walking extremely awkward. 
Pausing at the two-tiered white stone mausoleum of Marie Laveau,
hairdresser, psychic, and Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, their guide recited
some of the more mysterious and sensational examples of her supposed
blessings of friends and curses of enemies that made her both popular and
feared during the eighteen hundreds.  He noted that many people made
special wishes at her tomb, pointing out the markings and crosses that had
been drawn on the stones over the years, and to the clutter of coins, bits
of herb, beans, bones, bags containing who knows what, flowers, and tokens
that had been left in the hopes of good luck and blessings from the Voodoo
Queen.  Bobby suddenly had a brilliant idea as he glanced at the markings
on the mausoleum and the offerings strewn around it in the cluttered
cemetery.  Fishing around in his pocket, he took out the doubloons he'd
caught from the parade, a Canadian loonie he'd found that morning in his
toiletry bag and he hadn't known he had which he figured would be
particularly special, and the fried chicken wing he'd wrapped up in a
napkin and stuffed in his pocket for later and which he figured she'd
especially like, and as everyone else moved on he dropped them beside the
tomb, glancing around and looking as innocent and nonchalant as any
thirteen-year-old could while he hurriedly whispered his special request.
At the end of the tour, they headed straight to the Tipitina's Terminal
tour office to catch the coach to the airboat swamp tour.  Boarding the
sixteen-passenger airboat, they were taken into the Lafitte swamps.  As
their boat captain, Louis Buidry, a handsome, swarthy, sexy-eyed young
Cajan in his early twenties with thick, jet black hair and a smooth
muscular chest revealed by his partially open shirt, steered the airboat
through the marsh reeds and along the Louisiana bayous, it was evident to
the Brewster boys that he was spending more time glancing at Andre than he
was at the waterways, and that Andre was more interested in him than he was
in the wildlife of the bayou.  Pulling into a thick patch of sedge, he
idled the boat as his assistant, his barefoot seventeen-year-old cousin by
the name of Anton, stepped onto the floating vegetation to retrieve a young
alligator which was passed around before being handed back to him and
returned to the swamp.  As they continued their search for alligators, they
spotted a few egret and a blue heron standing in the reeds and patiently
waiting for a passing bass, a few ducks, and the occasional water snake. 
As the swarthy, narrow-eyed, seventeen-year-old gave his spiel about
wildlife in the Louisiana bayou, the hunting of alligators for their hide
and their flesh which he said he did with his uncle, and the trapping of
muskrat and nutria for their fur and to keep their population down, which
he also said he did and was essential or the rodents would eatout the
vegetation and leave nothing, Andre could not help but notice that the
teenager was especially interested in Brent and Brett so that it often
seemed he was addressing them directly, and that the twins were just as
interested in Anton.  From the looks on their faces, Andre knew that as
fascinating as it was, the two blond teenagers were interested in more than
Anton's spiel about life in the Louisiana bayou and he smiled to himself.
With his handsome, dark looks and sweat and swamp stained "working clothes"
the teenage guide/trapper exuded raw sexuality, and the twins with their
bright blue eyes and almost waist-long hair and their fresh, clean faces
and quick smiles, besides evidently nice-sized packages displayed in their
tight, white slacks, turned the heads of both sexes and of all ages and
could not help sparking erotic fantasies for those so inclined.  The tour
went by all too quickly.  "You travelling with them?" Louis asked
discretely, nodding to the Brewsters as Andre disembarked.  "Yeah." "That's
too bad," he said, giving Andre a sultry look.  "I thought perhaps you'd
like a, ah, a more intimate tour.  I could always drive you back to New
Orleans." Andre smiled.  He had a steady boyfriend, but the young Cajan
captain was hot, and he and his boyfriend had an agreement that if they met
anyone that was particularly enticing they would not let their love for
each other prevent the other from having a good time.  "Would your cousin
be interested in giving a more intimate tour also?" Louis smiled and his
narrow eyes narrowed even more.  "Well, he's sort of young, and I'm not
into three-way, but-." "Not you and me.  I got the impression he might like
to give the twins a, shall we say, more intimate view of Cajun life."
Louis's smile broadened.  "You are very observant.  I am sure he would. 
Unfortunately there's the matter of the two other brothers." "I'd be very
surprised you didn't have another cousin or two that could keep them
entertained for a few hours." Louis studied Bobby and Benny for a few
minutes.  "What type of entertainment do you think they might be interested
in?" he asked cautiously.  "I imagine the same as all thirteen and fifteen
year olds are, though I suspect they'd also be interested in the same as
their older brothers," Andre replied vaguely.  "I see," Louis said with an
even broader smile.  "Give me a moment and let me see what I can come up
with." What he came up with was a fifteen-year-old half-Acadian
half-Spanish cousin by the name of Frankie who came pedalling up the dirt
back road on his bike minutes later.  Andre phoned his uncle to let him
know they were all right and would be home late and he, the four Brewster
brothers, and the Buidry cousins headed back out into the Louisiana bayou,
this time on one of the nine-passenger airboats to one of the family's old,
abandoned trapper shacks Louis had taken over as his own private hideaway
where he could entertain without worrying about interruptions or discovery.
Taking out a quart sealer of his uncle's moonshine and taking a swig, the
twenty-three-year-old passed it to Andre, who cautiously took a sip of the
powerful, clear brew and snorted as it burned down to his stomach.  "Eighty
percent proof," Louis said with a grin.  Anton took the bottle and raised
it to his lips and took a long swig, evidently having been raised on the
stuff, and as he passed it to Brent, Louis warned him to take a very small
sip.  Even that caused the seventeen-year-old to gasp for breath as if his
mouth was on fire and tears to come to his eyes.  Brett wisely took an even
smaller sip and even that caused his eyes to water.  As he was about to
hand the quart sealer back, Frankie intercepted it and took a healthy swig
before handing it to Benny.  Louis and the twins exchanged glances, but
with Frankie having taken a swig of the booze they couldn't embarrass Benny
who was of the same age by prohibiting him from at least a sip.  Having
seen the reaction of his older brothers, Benny wisely did no more than
moisten his lips and pretend to swallow.  The face he made was not an act.
Bobby of course was not so perceptive and the thirteen-year-old took a
healthy swig, causing him to emit a high-pitched gasp, choke, turn several
shades of red, and look around desperately through his tears for a bucket
of water to quench the fire in his mouth, much to the amusement of others,
and especially the Buidry cousins.  "Whoo-eee," he finally gasped, "that
could send a rocket to the moon." "It almost sent you to the moon,"
observed Brett, to the amusement of everyone, including Bobby.  Frying them
up a mess of homemade boudin and serving it with a spicy seafood and okra
gumbo washed down with several cold beer and cans of coke Louis had loaded
up the cooler with before leaving, they sat out on the porch of the
trapper's shack and as the night quickly descended as it does in the south,
devoured their meal, which the Brewsters particularly enjoyed until they
found out the Cajun sausage was made of alligator tail and the seafood was
supplemented with periwinkles, which Bobby found out were sea snails,
collected from the sedges just outside the cabin.  They were afraid to ask
what okra was.  As they ate Louis and his cousins described life on the
Louisiana marsh as it really was, not just the spiel given tourists, the
three of them clearly enjoying the wilderness and the country life.  Louis
was in his final year of university and had a job lined up as a wetlands
biologist locally when he graduated.  He'd helped out his father in his
airboat tour business in the summers and on weekends, and his uncle,
Frankie's father, on his trap line to help fund his education.  Anton on
the other hand had dropped out of school when he'd turned sixteen.  Besides
helping his uncle out on his tourist business and helping his father who
had a garage in Lafitte pumping gas and doing simple mechanical repair
work, he hunted alligators for a living and had his own trapline.  Frankie,
who had just recently turned fifteen, was finishing grade nine and was
already a proficient alligator hunter and muskrat skinner and was
affectionately called a coonass by his cousins, a derogatory term the
Brewsters learned meaning a hillbilly Cajun.  All of them being young and
naturally horny and being loosened up by the illicit whiskey and the beer,
and all of them knowing they hadn't come out there to discuss life on the
Louisiana bayou, they were anxious to start getting it on.  Louis got them
started, drifting off with Andre, the two ending up back on the airboat. 
It was a hot and humid evening and Louis had removed his shirt long ago. 
He now unbuttoned the younger man's shirt and slipped it off his shoulders,
and the two embraced and kissed in the moonlight and began to caress each
other's smooth, rock-hard body, the twenty-three-year-old part-time guide
and student having kept in shape between driving airboats and working out
in the university gym, and the twenty-one-year-old, who was working as a
bartender as he put himself through university working toward an
engineering degree, beginning each day jogging and lifting weights. 
Running their fingers over each other's smooth, broad back and exploring
each other's mouth with their tongue, they closed their eyes in delight as
they felt the desire quickly welling up in their loins.  Slipping his hand
down to Andre's crotch, Louis slowly pulled down his fly and then unbuckled
his belt and unsnapped the top button of his trousers.  As they dropped to
his ankles, Andre similarly unzipped Louis's baggy swamp pants and undid
his belt and his trousers dropped to his ankles also.  The two young men
kissed and caressed each other with increased passion as their pulse
speeded up and sweat began to bead on their foreheads and in the small of
their backs, the result of the sultry evening and their growing lust.  They
simultaneously slipped their fingers under the elastic band of the other's
boxers and grasped and squeezed each other's smooth, tight buns, deep
kissing each other as their young, eager cocks began to swell.  Easing down
each other's boxers and allowing them to drop to their ankles also, the two
hot young men stepped out of their entangling clothing, Andre kicking off
his shoes and Louis untying his thick swamp boots and removing them and his
socks, and the two, Louis buck naked and Andre in only his ankle socks,
embraced and kissed again, their hands straying to their crotches where
they fondled each other's hairy balls and Andre's stiff, narrow moustache
brushing against Louis's cheek.  Brent, Anton and Brett had meanwhile also
slipped away, the young Cajun having given the two boys a dreamy,
bedroom-eyed look and a nod and each of them taking an outstretched hand
and being guided across the spongy carpet of moss and sedge covering the
small island the cabin was on to an old, moss-covered cypress, the thick
branches draped in long, pale green lichen which shone eerily in the
Louisiana moonlight.  Somewhere off in the reeds a couple marsh wrens
softly called to each other and a bass leapt out of the dark water to catch
a fly and splashed back into the murky depths of the bayou.  The eery
hooting of a rail calling its mate in the distance drifted across the water
and a water snake coiled about the upper branches of the old cypress,
unseen by the boys.  The three horny seventeen-year-olds kissed gently and
experimentally, their smooth lips barely touching, lips on necks, on downy
cheeks, lips on lips.  Their lips tasted of hot Cajun spices and their
breaths smelled of crab and crawfish.  Like his cousin, Anton had gone
shirtless in the sultry evening, and the twins ran their fingers over his
smooth, satiny, dark brown skin, his dark complexion a combination of his
Cajun ancestry and from being out in the hot Louisiana summer sun for
months working his trapline and hunting alligator.  His body was sinewy and
solid and warm and damp with sweat and smelled of the bayou.  Brent and
Brett were soon shirtless also.  A regular schedule of swimming and
basketball had resulted in firm, well-defined muscles, their pale skin in
sharp contrast to Anton's swarthy complexion especially in the light of the
moon as it passed in and out of the clouds above, and the shadows cast by
the contours of their muscles accented them.  The three boys each had male
lovers and were skilled in the art of man-to-man lovemaking and as they
kissed and caressed each other's back and sculptured chest they felt their
passion rising, along with their young cocks.  They felt no guilt about
what they were doing, knowing that at their age they were approaching the
peak of their sexual prowess and at their age lust was second nature, and
that the lust of one boy for another was perfectly healthy and normal.  It
was because of those attitudes that they, and their boyfriends, knew they
had too much sexual drive and energy to constrain themselves when the one
they loved was not available to satisfy those smoldering needs between
their legs.  They also knew that just because they had sex with someone
else it did not diminish nor demean the relationship they had with their
lover.  Finding themselves alone, the remaining three boys glanced at each
other.  "So," said Frankie, looking first at Benny and then at Bobby,
"either of you interested in another Cajun sausage?" The two brothers
grinned, knowing he was not referring to the boudin they'd consumed
earlier. "Depends," Benny replied.  "It stuffed with alligator tail?"
"Stuffed with something even better," Frankie said with a grin.  "And it's
homemade." What the three younger teens lacked in the sophistication and
experience their older relations possessed, they made up for in frankness
and enthusiasm.  They were randy and eager and their focus was on the
ever-present need between their legs, which didn't need any kissing or
caressing to be kindled.  In a matter of seconds the three had chucked
their clothes and were standing there on the old wooden patio stark naked
and unashamed.  Bobby and Benny dropped to their knees and the two brothers
nuzzled the long, thick sausage and the pendulous balls of the young Cajun,
delighting in the spicy, musky fragrance of his sweat-damp balls and the
wild-meat fragrance of his young, teenage dick.  Extending their tongues,
they ran them over his hairy, dangling balls and along his flaccid but
growing cock, finding its taste even spicier and more delightful than the
sausage they'd eaten for supper.  All else was forgotten.  Something bumped
up against the airboat and dived under it, perhaps an alligator in search
of a night snack, or a muskrat trying to avoid being one.  There was a soft
flutter over the bayou, perhaps a night hawk or swamp owl in search of
prey, the sound of their wings softer than the breathing of the two youths
lustfully pressing their hot, sweating bodies against each other and
gyrating, grinding their lower torsos against each other, their swollen
flesh trapped between their flat, firm stomachs.  They pressed their lips
tightly together and sucked deeply, two vampires drawing each other's soul
out from the depths of their flushed, pulsating, mortal bodies in the
Louisiana bayou.  The two were fully erect and both well-endowed.  Turning
Andre around and bending him over the raised captain's seat, Louis slipped
his middle finger in his mouth and coating it with his spittle, he reached
down and placed the tip of his digit against Andre's tender pucker.  The
twenty-one-year-old pushed out with his abdominal muscles in reflex,
opening up to the probing appendage, and Louis slowly sank his finger up
the younger man's dank channel.  Andre sighed with pleasure and his stiff
dick twitched with the anticipation of a longer and thicker appendage soon
come.  Louis kissed the back of the younger man's neck as he finger fucked
him and he reached around and rolled his pendulous balls in the fingers of
his other hand.  As he worked his middle digit in and out of Andre's hole,
he twisted it around, loosening him up.  The two boys sighed, inhaling and
exhaling slowly and deeply as they focussed on the pleasure, Andre on the
pleasure of being finger fucked, Louis on the pleasure of turning on the
hunky, horny youth.  Finally withdrawing his finger, Louis stood behind the
gasping, bend-over young man he'd only met five hours ago and inhaling
deeply, he reached down and bent his stiff cock until it was perpendicular
to his body and the knob was touching Andre's tender, eager opening.  Again
Andre pushed out with his abdominal muscles in reflex and in anticipation,
and Louis slowly pressed forward, his slopehead wedging in the younger
man's opening and slowly beginning to stretch it open.  The two youths
inhaled and exhaled deeply as they attempted to couple, the one straining
to accept the other, the other straining to penetrate.  Louis grasped
Andre's hips more tightly as he pressed his own forward, his slopehead
continuing to slowly stretch open the restraining but eager pucker until at
last it popped inside and the two boys felt the tight sphincter muscle
clamp down on the stiff, intruding cock just below the knob now firmly and
securely imbedded in the asshole of the other.  Just as smoothly and with
just as much eagerness and anticipation, the three seventeen-year-olds were
coupling also.  Having discarded their trousers, boxers and socks, Brent
had eagerly turned and spread his legs.  Now as he braced himself against
the old, gnarled cypress, he curled his toes and pushed out with his
abdomen just as had Andre as he felt Anton's hot, firm, blood-engorged knob
pressing against his anus.  He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes in
anticipation as Anton grasped his hips and drove his stiff, slender cock
forward, penetrating his body and sinking to the depths of his hot bowels
in one fluid motion just as smoothly plunging his hunting knife into the
stomach of a skinned opossum he was gutting for his supper.  Anton closed
his eyes and inhaled deeply too as he felt his long, slender Cajun cock
penetrate the gorgeous blond and sink deep up his hot, moist rectum.  One
thing was certain: he was no virgin.  For another, he was hot for his Cajun
cock, just as he'd thought when he'd caught him checking him out that
afternoon.  He pushed forward until his coarse, black, curly hairs were
pressing against the smooth buttocks of the boy he'd only met and barely
knew.  Sinking his cock up the boy's tight, compact ass had been just as
delightful and just as easy as he'd imagined it would be as he'd checked
the hot teen out himself as he'd helped his cousin with the four o'clock
tour.  Feeling a pair of hands grasp his own hips and a hot, hard knob
press against his own back door, he inhaled deeply and pushed out with his
abdomen just as the boy he'd just penetrated had, but not with the same
certainty.  The knob pressing against his butthole was thicker than his own
and thicker than any knob that had ever been shoved up his ass, and he
pushed out with both anticipation of the pleasure it would bring and with
apprehension of the pain he was sure to experience.  The moment he'd seen
the size of the two Brewster twins he knew it was going to be difficult to
connect without lube, and painful for both of them, but unfortunately a
tube of lube wasn't something he normally carried with him when he helped
out on his uncle's swamp tours.  He had been taken aback the moment he'd
seen their monster cocks.  Never had he seen anyone with cocks that long
and thick.  Once he and an older cousin had used the fat from a muskrat
they'd caught out of desperation, finding themselves in a similar
situation, but today he was not so fortunate.  Now as he and Brett
struggled to unite he thought of the grease from the sausages they'd cooked
for supper, but to pull his dick out of Brent and go back to the cabin and
get it would be inconvenient, and it would certainly break the mood.  Brett
was wishing he had some lube also as he inhaled deeply and pressed forward,
but when he'd left the house that morning he'd had no idea that evening
he'd be fucking ass in the middle of the Louisiana swampland.  The
seventeen-year-old knew he was better hung than most boys his age, and most
men older than he, but he'd hoped Anton's obvious experience and his own,
combined with a generous coating of spittle, would make up for the lack of
lube.  Now, as he pressed that most sensitive appendage of his body against
the willing but tight hole of the hot Cajun boy, closing his eyes and
gritting his teeth with the pain, he feared what they were attempting to do
would be impossible.  Knowing the pleasure that would follow and feeling
the restraining flesh give millimetre by millimetre, he persisted however,
determined to continue and hoping Anton was not in as much pain as he was.
He and Anton grunted and snorted so loudly the night grew silent as if the
animals in the bayou were listening and holding their breaths in
anticipation.  For a moment all that could be heard was their heavy
breathing and then the sounds of the wetlands resumed, the leaves in the
great cypress rustling as something hopped from one branch to another,
perhaps a black squirrel or one of the many birds nesting in the upper
branches of the old monarch, and somewhere in the muck of the swamp one
frog pipped to another, as if the animals recognized the sound of two
creatures rutting and realized they were not in danger.  Suddenly, just as
he was sure he'd not be able to do it and would have to reluctantly admit
defeat, he felt his large, plum-sized knob pop inside the rectum of the
seventeen-year-old Cajun who already had his cock plunged up his brother's
hole.  Unaware and unconcerned what the others were doing, the three
younger boys had gathered up and spread out their clothes on the wooden
patio and retrieved a half dozen cleaned and cured muskrat and nutria pelts
from the lean-to beside the cabin where Louis had allowed his cousin to
store them and stacked them up on the deck above their clothing.  Laying
down on the soft, musk-scented pelts, the three had resumed their foreplay,
making muskrat love Bobby had called it.  They had ended up in a sixty-nine
position with Bobby and Benny facing in the same direction and Frankie
between them and in the opposite direction, his head at their crotches and
their heads at his.  As the two brothers ran their tongues over his
swollen, twitching cock, delighting in the unique flavour of his Cajun
sausage and in the pleasure of bringing him a pleasure that only a boy can
know, Frankie licked and sucked the throbbing pecker of first one Brewster
and then the other, surprised and delighted at how hung they were and
wishing he could suck both of them at the same time.  The two brothers were
clearly experienced at what they were doing, running their tongues up the
length of his shaft and swirling them around his knob, causing his stiff
cock to jerk with the sharp arousal that was a mix of pain and unbelievable
pleasure.  They took turns slipping their hot, moist mouths over his aching
dick and sucking it, both of them going down on him all the way to his
curly black hairs despite the fact he was better hung than most
fifteen-year-olds, though not as well hung as Benny.  Few fifteen year olds
and not that many men were.  He was an experienced cock sucker himself, the
young Cajun trapper and alligator hunter having passed away many a night
out in the bayou with a close buddy satisfying each other's needs, and
being limber and endowed enough to suck himself off on those nights out on
the trap line by himself.  Now he had two hot and throbbing dicks in his
face and he sucked on one and then the other hungrily, delighting not just
in the unique, raw flavour of teenage dick, but in the pleasure only a boy
can know, the pleasure of brining another boy the same pleasure as the one
throbbing between his legs.  Seeing a clear droplet of pre-cum oozing out
of Benny's twitching pecker, Frankie slipped his mouth off Bobby's stiff
thirteen-year-old cock and slipping his fingers about it and beginning to
jerk it, he bent over and flicked up the dollop of pre-cum and eagerly
swallowed the delightful sample of what was to come.  Of course another
droplet immediately oozed out of the tip of Benny's aching cock and Frankie
hungrily flicked it up too before going down on the horny
fifteen-year-old's cock and tightly clamping his lips about his throbbing
cock just below the knob to delay his ejaculation.  Benny had already done
the same to him twice, and like Benny, he wanted this pleasure to last as
long as he could.  Louis had also already paused once to allow his lust to
subside, squeezing Andre's stiff pecker just below his knob also to prevent
him from coming too soon.  He was now once again plowing the
twenty-one-year-old's ass with a delightful frenzy, grasping his hips and
working his to and fro, driving his stiff cock in and out of the younger
man's tight butt.  The two were openly and unabashedly gasping and grunting
with exertion and pleasure, their wild, abandoned fucking causing the
airboat to rock and the dark waters of the bayou to splash against the hull
and against the dock.  Both were perspiring profusely from their exertion
and lust and the humid night, the moonlight reflecting off their
glistening, naked bodies and the dark waters of the bayou.  Once again the
two youths felt the building pressure developing in their loins and they
snorted openly with lust and pleasure like two wild animals.  Louis's long,
thick cock throbbed hotly as he plunged it in and out of Andre's hot, moist
rectum, and Louis trembled with delight as he felt his member go numb and
as he felt Andre's sphincter clench down on his cock tightly.  He knew he'd
be coming any second now, and he could no longer hold back that pleasure.
Andre too knew he was about to shoot, and he constricted and relaxed his
sphincter in time with the thick cock plunging in and out of his rectum. 
His anus burned with arousal, the pleasure pulsating out from it like the
ripples in a pond, and deep in his loins he could feel the pressure
developing, the result of the stimulation of his anus and the stimulation
of his prostate.  He opened and closed his piss slit in eager anticipation,
thinking of the pleasure of his imminent ejaculation, and the pleasure of
having his rectum filled with the jism of the hot Cajun boy thrusting his
cock in and out of his body.  The three seventeen-year-olds under the
moss-covered cypress were thinking and feeling the same thing as the two
older youths on the airboat.  Once Brett had united with him, Anton had
developed a rhythmic pattern that brought all three of them that unique and
undescribable pleasure that only guys could know, that unique pleasure of
having your ass fucked and of fucking another guy's ass.  Grasping Brent's
smooth hips, Anton had slowly drawn his hips back, drawing his stiff cock
back out of Brent's rectum while at the same time sinking down on Brett's
stiff dick, impaling himself on the blond teenager's shaft.  Carefully
adjusting his position, he was able to sink all the way down on the long,
thick cock up his ass until his butt cheeks were pressed against the blond
teenager's curlies, the knob of his own cock just beginning to stretch open
the sphincter of the blood teenager in front of him.  Easing his hips
forward, he sank his aching cock back up Brent's ass, at the same time
sliding up his twin brother's cock until he felt the seventeen-year-old's
knob beginning to stretch open his own sphincter.  Pausing to delight in
the feeling of having his aching cock surrounded by hot, moist, throbbing
ass flesh, Anton slowly withdrew his cock once more, pausing as he felt his
knob beginning to stretch open the clenched sphincter and delighting in the
feeling of having his asshole stuffed with the longest, thickest cock he'd
ever had up his butt, the pain of their union long forgotten.  Getting use
to the rhythm, Anton began to speed up, and Brent and Brett delighted in
the erotic double fuck.  Each time Anton drove his hips forward Brent
delighted in feeling his long, narrow cock plunging deep up his rectum and
he constricted his sphincter in joy as his own cock jerked and wagged with
the erotic pleasure pulsating out from his asshole.  He quivered as Anton's
cock withdrew and his knob brushed against his prostate, sending a ripple
of pleasure through his groin and up his stiff cock, causing it to wag and
jerk.  At the same time Brett grasped Anton's hips for balance as he felt
Anton's hot, moist rectum descending on his stiff, aching prick until the
horny Cajun teen's smooth ass was pressed against his curly blond hairs and
his aching, seven and a half inch cock was buried deep up the boy's hot,
moist rectum.  He exhaled with the exquisite pleasure as Anton once again
drew his hips up and he felt his cock slowly easing back out of the boy's
rectum until his knob was stretching apart his sphincter.  It was always a
delight to feel that building pressure in his loins and the burning
pleasure encircling his knob, and especially when those pleasures were
being generated by the actions of another rather than oneself.  When that
pleasure is caused by another boy riding your cock, it was even more
intense, and knowing that at the same time that same boy was feeling the
same pleasure pulsating between his legs, and that his motions were causing
your brother's asshole and pecker to burn with the same pleasure, it was
totally mind-blowing.  The three youngest teens were thinking the same as
they hungrily sucked and licked each other's throbbing, aching prick. 
Benny loved cock almost as much as his kid brother, and the two of them
sucking and licking the same stiff, throbbing sausage, bringing it closer
and closer to shooting, doubled their pleasure.  Having the horny,
fifteen-year-old Cajun boy sucking and licking their own cocks at the same
time, knowing he was feeling the same horniness and burning desire between
his legs as they were and knowing he was bringing your brother the same
pleasure as he was bringing you made their own approaching orgasms all the
hotter.  Benny and Frankie had already had their pre-cum flow and imminent
ejaculations delayed twice, at the same time cutting off Bobby's pending
orgasm.  None of them could hold out another time.  As the two brothers ran
their tongues up and down the throbbing bone of the young Cajun teenager
they wondered what Cajun cum would taste like, and as Frankie felt the
pressure developing in his loins to the breaking point the thought that
he'd be squirting off in the faces of two brothers made his loins ache in
anticipation.  The laboured breathing and snorting of the eight rutting
youths joined the other natural night sounds of the bayou, the sound of
young males about to shoot forth their life-giving seed as natural as the
rhythmic splashing of the dark waters of the bayou as alligators and
turtles swam through the murky waters in search of food, as natural as the
scampering of little feet over the mossy carpet of the floating islands and
the rustling in the reeds and rushes as the little night denizens sought
out their meals in the safety of the dark.  Unable to hold back any longer,
Louis thrust his hips forward for one last time and grunted with pleasure
as his hot seed gushed up the core of his cock and filled the hot, moist
rectum of the boy he'd only met that afternoon.  Feeling his rectum flooded
with hot, thick, cum, Andre threw back his head and grasped the captain's
seat and shuddered as his swollen cock jerked and wagged and his hot, thick
seed spurted out of the tip and shot across the airboat to land in a splat
in the murky waters of the bayou.  Shot after shot spurted up his rectum
and shot after shot spurted out of his own cock and into the still, black
waters.  The two youths closed their eyes and their heads spun with the
burning, overpowering pleasure throbbing between their legs and with the
release of their seed.  Under the old cypress, three seventeen-year-old
boys were locked in their own ecstatic release.  Brent, Brett, and Anton
arched their backs as they felt their hot, teenage cum gushing up the core
of their swollen, aching, teenage cocks and spurting out the tip, squirt
after squirt bursting forth in a rapid staccato.  Brent and Anton quivered
as they felt their assholes being flooded with hot, thick cum, and Anton
furiously jerked his hips to and fro uncontrollably, his thick cock
slicking and sliding in and out of Brent's freshly cum-lubed hole and his
own hole noisily slucking as he rode Brett's throbbing, squirting cock. 
His chest heaving and his balls drawn up tight under his stiff cock, Brent
shot his load into the rich, mossy carpet before him.  The air was filled
with the scent of fresh cum, dank and rich like the bayou itself, as the
three boys trembled with their ejaculation, delighting as much in their
climax as in having brought another boy to his.  On the porch of the
trapper's cabin, three more boys were gasping and writhing with their own
orgasms.  Benny and Bobby eagerly lapped up the rich, thick Cajun cream
spurting out of the thick brown sausage between them, Frankie's cum as
uniquely spicy and delicious as his sweat and his cock had been.  As their
hot tongues eagerly lapped up his spurting load as it shot into the air and
streamed down his throbbing sausage, Frankie hungrily drank Benny's creamy
offering, his lips tightly wrapped about the boy's throbbing young cock as
it spurted out its thick marrow.  His fingers tightly wrapped around the
throbbing young cock of his kid brother as the thirteen-year-old thrashed
and groaned with his own orgasm, again dry, but just as overwhelmingly
delightful as the wet orgasms of the two older boys.  Deeply inhaling the
rich, moist air heavy with the scent of fresh cum and boy sweat and the
musky Louisiana bayou, the eight youths were as close to nature as any boy
could be.  Sunday morning the Brewsters and their hosts packed a picnic
lunch of fresh crab meat and oyster on freshly-baked French bread spread
with lemon and dill butter, garlic pickles, a ball of Gouda cheese and
French-fried onion rings and headed back uptown for a day of parades, the
Okeanos Krewe beginning at eleven, the Thoth Krewe at 11:30, Mid-City at
two, and the twenty-seven super-float parade of Bacchus, the god of wine,
at 5:15.  Giving in to Bobby's pleas, on the way home they stopped at
Reverent Zombies Voodoo Shop where the graveyard tour had begun to take a
look at the spell kits, potions and Voodoo paraphernalia for sale, but to
his disappointment he could not find what he was hoping for, and though the
clerk tried to sell him something he said would be the same when he
discretely asked out of earshot of his brothers and father, he was smart
enough to know it was a cheap tourist imitation.  Famished when they
returned home, Philippe cooked them up a hot Louisiana sea food jambalaya
with Cajun sausage, bell peppers, garlic, shrimp and crawfish served with
steamed rice.  Following supper, Philippe and Henri got dressed for their
evening out.  Despite the rich food Philippe prepared for them, the men
were in good shape, with perhaps the slightest of pot bellies, and their
leather harnesses showed off their broad, hairy chests and muscular biceps,
and their tight levis and leather chaps revealed impressive packages.  With
their high black leather boots, chains and motorcycle caps they looked very
macho and very hot.  So did Barry, his hosts having found him a pair of
tight, black leather pants, a spiked collar, and a leather and chain
harness fitted in the back with large, black wings that matched his black
feather mask perfectly and that he blushingly modelled for his sons. 
Telling the boys not to wait up for them and leaving Andre in charge of
them, the three men headed off to the by invitation only Lords of Leather
Bal Masque XX at the St.  Bernard Culture Centre.  The Lords were the only
leather Mardi Gras Krewe in the world and the theme of this year's ball was
"A Different Drummer." James Brewster had actually met the two men years
ago at a Lords of Leather function and knowing the couple were gay and
devoted to each other but always open to safe sex with others of a similar
mind, and knowing that his older brother Barry engaged in and enjoyed the
occasional gay romp, he'd purposefully suggested Barry stay with the couple
and had told them of his bisexuality, knowing that the three would click.
Of course at the time he'd not expected Barry's sons to be joining him, but
when that came up he had no reservations about them joining their father,
knowing also the proclivities of his four nephews, who in fact, had been
responsible for him having met the man he'd ended up marrying.  Although
Andre knew that his uncle and his uncle's partner were into leather and
some mild S and M, he figured Barry wouldn't have the slightest interest in
anything of that nature, especially being married and having seven
children, and so he figured they were simply taking their guest out for
some Mardi Gras bar hopping.  He was not particularly into the leather
scene nor S and M himself, but he knew a friend who knew a friend and after
the hot session he'd witnessed the previous night on the bayou, he'd
managed that morning to get tickets to the ball for himself, his boyfriend
Marcel and the twins.  Although nobody was supposed to be under twenty-one,
it was an exclusive private ball and he knew that once they saw the twins
nobody was going to question their age.  Besides, it was Mardi Gras, and it
would not be the first time underage boys engaged in activities they should
not be engaging in.  So, the moment Barry and his uncle and partner left,
he and the twins got into their own costumes and after being assured by
Bobby and Benny that they'd stay in and stay out of trouble, they headed
off for the ball with Marcel.  The theme being "A Different Drummer" Andre
and Marcel had come up with matching drummer boy costumes complete with
drums and rainbow coloured flags and leather masks, with strategically
placed rips in their uniforms to reveal their nips, bubble butts, and
generous packages.  Wearing identical leather collars and biceps and wrist
bands with brass studs, low leather boots, and studded leather jocks and
nothing else except for a pair of large white wings that matched their
identical white feather masks, and with their smooth, muscular young bodies
and long, flowing blond hair, Brent and Brett were knock out gorgeous and
were immediately hit on the moment they stepped into the St.  Bernard
Cultural Centre.  The Bal Masque was one of the biggest events hosted by
the Lords of Leather and the hall was filled with members of the Krewe and
their guests.  Brent and Brett stood in awe at the sight of hundreds of men
of all shapes and sizes, handsome, athletic men with waxed chests and tight
leather pants displaying bubble butts and bulging crotches, rugged, bearded
men with impossibly hairy chests, young men and old men and men in between,
men who displayed hairy beer bellies hanging over studded belts like a
badge of achievement, men with six-pack abs and chiselled chests, fat men
who waddled and whose boobs bounced when they walked, gorgeous young men
who could easily be models for Abercrombie and Fitch, lithe young men who
flitted about like mincing fairies, talking, dancing, drinking and making
out on the dance floor and in the dark recesses of the brightly decorated
hall.  "So, you dance?" asked Andre, glancing at Brett.  "Not really. 
There isn't much opportunity for, you know, two guys to dance where I come
from." That was one thing he envied about his straight friends.  At high
school dances they could get up and groove with the music and have a good
time with their dates without giving it a second thought.  If he and Cam
dared try something like that they'd be asking for trouble, from their
peers, from the adult supervisors, from the whole community.  Even Brent
and Billy could at least dance at their Wiccan ceremonies, though he knew
that wasn't exactly the same either.  "Well, now's your opportunity," Andre
said, taking Brett by the hand and leading him out onto the dance floor. 
Glancing at Brent, Marcel similarly grabbed his hand and they followed
Andre and Brett.  At first the twins were self-conscious and awkward, but
both enjoyed music and surrounded by dozens of other couples, some
snuggling and pressing against each other in a slow shuffle, others swaying
and swinging to the music, it wasn't long before they were dancing up a
storm.  The floor was crowded and it was difficult to move without bumping
into someone, and of course with the party in full swing by the time they'd
gotten there and everyone feeling high on booze, the pot which even Brent
and Brett recognized from the sweet clouds of smoke, or just the excitement
of Mardi Gras, there were many who took advantage of the close press of
bodies to grope anyone near or to squeeze an irresistible pair of buns. 
And there were those whose worse side showed with the liquor and the crowd.
"Say, watch where you're going with those wings, buddy, or you'll find them
up your ass," a gruff, bearded giant of a man smelling of beer and
cigarettes snarled with a glare.  "Mmm, don't you mind him, honey," another
man simpered before Brent could apologize.  "You can bump up against me
anytime," he continued, running a long, flourescent-painted fingernail
along Brent's chest and flicking his nipple ring.  Before Brent could
reply, the man was whisked away by his partner.  He and Andre slipped to
the sidelines and Andre got him a beer.  Glancing around he spotted his
brother and Marcel dancing up a storm, a huge grin on Brett's face.  It was
Brent's first gay dance, and the whole scene was overwhelming.  He'd never
been surrounded by so many men all of the same orientation as he was, all
who knew what it was like to be attracted to other men and who openly
displayed their affection.  He'd known he was gay back in junior high and
was comfortable with his orientation, but it wasn't until that moment as he
looked around the ballroom that he truly felt gay.  With five hundred
people in the centre and everyone coming and going, either dancing or
sitting at the tables along the sidelines or sidling up to the bar or
slipping into the shadows and niches purposefully created by the
decorations for privacy, or slipping out to one of the smaller rooms in the
centre where they could be more intimate, it was no surprise that an hour
passed before Brent spotted his father on the dance floor with Philippe,
the two men engaged in a slow dance and kissing each other as they slowly
rocked from side to side.  Of course both he and Brett knew their father
was bi and they'd both seen him engaged in sex both with their mother and
with other men, but seeing his father there dressed in leather pants and a
leather and chain halter being held closely by another man and the two of
them kissing was hot and it caused his dick to swell and press against his
leather cup.  Both boys loved their father, and knowing he too could be
aroused by another man had resulted in an even closer bond between them. 
Half an hour later, seeing two gorgeous, practically naked white-winged
angels with long, flowing blond hair extending down almost to their waists
go-go dancing around a centre pole with a dozen men surrounding them and
fondling them with evident arousal, Barry did a double-take.  His first
response of course was that it was his two older boys and he wondered how
they could possibly be there at the masked ball.  His second response was
wonder at there being another pair of twins so like his own boys.  The
couple could not possibly be Brent and Brett.  The Lords of Leather Bal
Masque was by membership and invitation only, and restricted to those over
the age of twenty-one.  Of course with their smooth, lithe bodies, they
didn't look over twenty-one, but then he couldn't be sure with their masks
and there were a number of young men there that could make the same claim.
As he watched them moving to the music and clearly enjoying themselves, he,
like many others in the ballroom, felt a stirring between his legs,
something that did not go unnoticed by his two hosts.  Heading off to the
washrooms to relieve their full bladders, the inevitable result of drinking
beer although they'd only had three bottles each, despite the ribald
behaviour on the dance floor the two young, innocent teens were surprised
to find a couple making out in one corner, their leather trousers opened
and one muscular, biker-looking man on his knees stroking his cock as he
bobbed his head up and down the stiff cock of the other man.  While they
were at the urinals, another man came in to take a leak.  Glancing at the
couple making out and then over at the two impressive dicks of the two
angels at the urinals, he gave them a look of appreciation and nodded to
the row of empty cubicles.  The two boys immediately shook their heads in
the negative and shaking off their dicks, quickly washed their hands and
headed back to their hosts, admittedly turned on but also flustered and a
bit frightened by the whole scene.  "Would the two of you like to slip away
to somewhere more private?" Andre asked, he and Marcel having discussed the
possibility while the twins were in the washroom.  Although he wanted to,
Brett glanced at Brent to see if he was comfortable with the idea, and when
he nodded, he happily did so also.  They were randier than usual, and in a
way that was different though they couldn't quite say how or why though
they knew he had to have something to do with being surrounded by so many
gay and horny men, and making out with Andre and his boyfriend would not be
an unpleasant experience.  Slipping out of the crowded, noisy dance hall,
they noticed couples entering and leaving two smaller, adjacent rooms. 
Stepping into the first and finding it too crowded, they slipped into the
next.  Both rooms were in darkness except for emergency lights with plants,
dividers and decorations forming discrete niches, many of them occupied. 
Finding an unoccupied corner, the four of them crowded in and they
immediately embraced and kissed, first Brent and Andre and Brett and Marcel
and then the twins changing partners and then all four together, Brent
kissing Andre on the lips, Brett kissing his right nipple, and Marcel
kissing Brent's nipple and flipping his nipple ring with his tongue.  As
they kissed and caressed the two drummer boys quickly shed their uniforms
and put them aside along with their flags and drums, and the leather jocks
of the two angels were slipped off, revealing gorgeous, long wands.  They
continued kissing, caressing, and embracing, their hands running over each
other's smooth, muscular body, lips lightly skipping over hairless chests
and downy cheeks and cheeks with five-o'clock shadow, Andre's stiff, narrow
moustache brushing against Brent's nipple and then Brett's cheek and now
Marcel's lips, the twins' hands dropping to caress the smooth thighs and
the dangling, sweating balls of their hosts, and then each others while
other hands caressed their compact, bubble butts and fingers ran up along
their smooth cracks to finger their eager holes, the four twisting and
writhing like an eight-armed Hindu deity.  Glancing over Brent's shoulder,
Brett recognized a familiar threesome in the shadows a dozen feet away. 
Barry and Philippe were locked in a hot, passionate kiss as they ran their
fingers through each other's curly chest hair while kneeling between them
Henri was nuzzling Barry's pendulous balls, all three men naked and erect.
Noticing Brett's gaze, Brent and their two hosts turned to look as Henri
went down on Barry's long, impressive cock and Barry and Philippe kissed
and caressed each other feverishly.  Nibbling on Barry's ear, Philippe said
something and the two men dropped to their knees.  As Philippe bent over so
he was on his hands and knees, he spread his legs and Barry shuffled behind
him, his stiff cock dripping with Henri's spittle and glistening in the
light of one of the safety lights in the ceiling.  Searching in the dark
for his levis, Henri took a tube of KY out of the pocket and squeezing a
generous glob on his finger, he lubed up Philippe's asshole, and then
squeezing out another glob he pulled back Barry's foreskin and greased his
blood-engorged, purple-red knob.  As Barry grasped Philippe's hips, Henri
took his stiff cock and guided it into position.  From where they were
standing, the twins and their two hosts could hear the heavy breathing of
the three men and their grunting as the two attempted to unite.  Barry,
like all Brewsters, was extremely well hung, and though Marcel was better
hung than most men, he was a good two inches shorter and a finger narrower
than Barry's nine-inch monster.  Despite the experience and skill of the
two men and Philippe accustomed to being penetrated by Marcel's larger than
normal cock, he had difficulty accommodating Barry even with the lube.  The
three men were wound up however, and determined.  Slowly but surely, Barry
eased his hips forward and his massive cock ever so gradually stretched
open Philippe's straining hole until finally it popped inside.  With a sigh
of relief the two men paused to recover and then Barry slowly sank his
long, thick cock up Philippe's hot, moist rectum to the delight of both
men. Marcel stood, and as Barry began to screw his life partner, he stepped
forward and Barry opened his mouth and slipped his lips over the man's
knob. He sucked on it gently for a moment, and then slowly went down on it,
all the while slowly pumping his hips to and fro, working his cock in and
out of Philippe's chute, and despite Marcel's size, he slipped his lips
down the length to his hairy base.  The twins had not even been teenagers
yet when they'd begun creeping down the hallway with their kid brothers to
watch their father screwing their mother, and it had not come as a surprise
to them to learn that he'd had same sex explorations with his brother James
and with his boyhood best pal and that he'd continued to mess around with
his best pal after his marriage.  Nor had it come as a surprise to them
that their father was as comfortable with his bisexuality as they were with
their gayness.  Even so, despite their awareness of their father's
sexuality and though they themselves had on several occasions had sex with
him, it was still a shock and wickedly hot to see their dad making out, to
see him with his cock up another man's ass and with another man's cock in
his mouth, and they felt a thrill of arousal pass up the core of their
stiff cocks as they watched him.  Andre and Marcel of course were aware
that Andre's uncle and his partner were gay just as they were aware of
Andre and Marcel's orientation, but they'd never had sex together nor in
each other's presence.  Seeing his uncle now being doggy fucked by the
biggest cock he'd ever seen, and his uncle's life partner getting his cock
sucked off by the same man, the sexuality of his uncle and his partner
become all the more real and Andre felt a surge of lust welling up between
his legs also, as did Marcel.  Turning their attention back to each other
and the twins, Andre dropped to his knees and began to suck on Brent's
swollen cock, knowing now where the twins had gotten their exceptional size
from after seeing their father's monster.  Brett similarly dropped to his
knees and slipped his lips over the swollen cock of Andre's boyfriend.  All
four of them were turned on from the hot evening and from watching the
boys' father and Andre's uncle and his partner.  Now two of them having a
hot, moist mouth hungrily sucking on their aching cocks, and the other two
having a fully aroused, throbbing cock between their lips, it was not long
before the four were oozing pre-cum.  Flicking up the clear, sticky droplet
clinging to the tip of his dick with his finger and squeezing out a second,
Andre stood and reaching behind him and spreading apart his legs he lubed
his anus with his own pre-cum.  Glancing over his shoulder at Brent, he
didn't have to say anything as the horny teen eagerly stepped forward and
placed the tip of his swollen cock, slick with his own pre-cum and with
Andre's spittle, against Andre's eager opening.  Having been fucked last
night and having watched the three seventeen-year-olds getting it on in a
Cajun sandwich, Andre had been thinking all day what it might be like to
get his ass plowed by one of the gorgeous, blond twins, and in that Brent
had been the one who'd gotten screwed the previous night, he'd chosen him
to be the one to plug his butt with that awesome seven-and-a-half inch cock
of his.  Now as he felt the youth's knob pressing against his hole, he
opened up and sighed with delight as he felt the blood-engorged flesh
stretching open his pre-cum lubed sphincter.  Brett stood and copying
Andre's action, he flicked up the thick dollop of pre-cum clinging to his
piss slit, and also squeezing out a second slimy droplet, he too
transferred his pre-cum slime to his asshole, lubing it with his own
juices. Marcel needed no invite as the hunky blond teen turned his back to
him and he immediately stepped up, his stiff, seven-inch cock throbbing in
anticipation, the knob slick with his own pre-cum and Brett's spit. 
Grasping the teenager by the hips, he eased his own hips forward, and
between the lube of Brett's spit and their pre-cum and their experience and
skill, aided by their raging hormones, he easily penetrated the horny young
teen.  Just last night Brett had been the one to plunge his aching cock up
another boy's hot, moist asshole, and now as he felt Marcel's rock-hard
cock slipping up his rectum, he felt just as hot and just as good as when
he'd been the fucker.  Facing each other, Andre and Brett embraced and
their lips locked together as Brent and Marcel began to screw their asses.
The kiss was long and passionate, the two finally having to break for a
breath.  Their lips immediately met again and as Andre's stiff, thin
moustache pressed against Brett's smooth upper lip, his hands slid down the
teenager's back to his narrow waist and then around over his flat stomach.
Brett did likewise and the two youths caressed each other's flat stomach
before continuing on down through each other's thick tangle of soft, curly
hairs, one blond and the other a rich chocolate brown, to the two stiff,
aching, pre-cum dripping pricks that had been jerking and slapping each
other's abs and thighs the moment they'd begun getting their asses fucked.
The two handsome youths, the one twenty-one, the other seventeen, slipped
their fingers about each other's swollen, aching shaft and began to gently
stroke just as they'd stroked themselves thousands of times, delighting in
the triangular firmness of each other's bone and in the pleasure the
stroking brought as long, experienced fingers slid up the shafts and
brushed against the sensitive rim of each other's knob, the one cut and
exposed, the other encased by a long foreskin, stimulating the flow of
still more pre-cum.  Working their aching pricks into position so they were
jutting upward and trapped between their smooth, muscular abs, the two
youths slipped their hands back up each other's back and caressed each
other's firm, broad deltoids.  They pressed their stomachs together and
delighted in feeling the two hot, firm cocks pressing against their
stomachs and brushing up against their own throbbing flesh.  They began to
gyrate, grinding their swollen, irritated knobs between their abs and
smearing their sticky pre-cum over each other's flat stomach as Brent
thrust his hips to and fro, plunging his cock in and out of Andre's hot,
moist asshole and as Marcel similarly worked his cock in and out of
Brett's. Brent pressed his smooth chest against Andre's warm, muscular back
and Marcel pressed his against Brett's and closed his eyes with delight as
he felt the seventeen-year-old's long, silky hair against his smooth pecs.
To be Continued ........ 
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