THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE PENTICTON'S PEACH FESTIVAL
"We just about there yet?" "No, Bobby, not yet," his father and three brothers chorused for what had to be the tenth time in the last hour. They were close though. The boys had immediately remembered the steep, twisting highway down into the Okanagan Valley at Osoyoos, and all four had their noses pressed up against the windows of the family station wagon as they competed to be the first to spot a familiar site. Of course the darkly-tanned, sweaty boys stripped to their shorts along the roadway had nothing to do with it. "Oh wow, we are getting close!" exclaimed Benny. "I remember this place." "Oh yeah. Is this where they have the dried fruit tour?"
"No, that's at Okanagan Falls," Barry explained. "This is Oliver. Okanagan Falls is next, and then Penticton" "Can we take the tour when we get to Okanagan Falls?" "Not today. But we will. We will be spending six nights here," Barry responded. "We'll be going to that candy place, won't we?" "Summerland Sweets at Summerland?" "Yeah!" the four boys chorused. "Of course." "And that chocolate place?" "Oh fu-, fu-, fucrying out loud yeah!" exclaimed Bobby. "They got the best chocolates in the world!" "Yes, we'll be going to Judy's Chocolates too," Barry promised, having the same sweet tooth as his boys. "Oh maaaaaan!" exclaimed Brent as they passed several teenagers on the side of the road. The boys were wearing speedos, and they had rich, dark tans. For a few moments the boys' attention was diverted from food. "Hey, we're real close. There is the lake, and there's that fruit stand! Can we stop for some fruit, Dad?" "Yeah, please Dad!" Liking fresh fruit as much as he liked candy, Barry pulled over without any need for coaxing. Besides, when they'd lived in Canada they'd had many holidays in the Okanagan, and it had become a family tradition to stop at the fruit stand at the top of the hill before they arrived at Penticton. They were soon on their way again, each now sinking his teeth into a fresh peach and wiping the juice off their chins with the back of their hands, Brenda not being there to ensure her boys all had paper napkins. "Hey, there's the Okanagan Game Farm!" "Oh sh-, sh-, shoot, I forgot about it!" "Remember the Sun-Rype Factory?"
"Oh yeah, and all the free fruit juice samples!" "I can't wait to go on some wine tours," observed Brent. "Oh yeah, and all their free samples!" agreed Benny. "You can't wait to go on some wine tours?" asked Barry, glancing in the rearview mirror at his sons. "Ah, ah, yeah, ah ." "They're way educational," observed Brent's twin brother Brett, quickly coming to his brother's rescue. "And we know you like their samples," added Bobby. "Yeah. That's what I meant about all their free samples," commented Benny. "For you." "Hey, there's the Skaha Beachcomber Campground." "How come we ain't camping there again, Dad?" asked Brett. "Yeah, how come?" asked his three brothers. They'd been told several times, but they knew it would distract their father and he'd forget Brent's comment about the wine tours. "As I've told you, an old school chum of mine has a small campground on the west side of Okanagan Lake on Naramanta Road and he's invited us to stay there since Mom and the babies won't be joining us." "Is it right on the lake?" "No, but there is a beach near by, and we aren't that far that we can't drive to Skaha." "Cool," said Brent, giving his brothers an appreciative glance at having distracted their father. "Maybe we'll run into Ogopogo," Bobby mused, referring to the monster serpent supposedly inhabiting Okanagan Lake.
"That would be awesome," observed Benny, and the four boys thought of their encounter with Big almost a year ago in the Olympic forest of Washington. "Now help me watch for Front Street." Half an hour later they pulled off the narrow Naramanta Road into "Phillip's Peach Park". "The sign said this is a private campground," observed Bobby who'd been riding in the front with his father. "This isn't one of those snooty places is it?" he asked with a look of concern, thinking of the snobbish students he'd met from private schools and private camps. That was not the Brewster style. "No," responded Barry with a strange look that was not reassuring.
"It just means it isn't open to the general public." "It said 'Private CO Campground' on the sign," observed Brent. "What's CO mean?" "Clothing Optional," Barry replied, pulling up to the registration office and turning to look at his boys. "A nudist campground?" asked Benny, the boys' source of all trivia information regarding sex. "A nudist campground?" asked Bobby, his eyes growing wide as he looked out the window. "I know the Hollis's are naturalists," Barry explained, looking at Brent, "and some of their get togethers are in the nude, so I figured since you've been seeing so much of Billy lately this might be a good opportunity for you to find out a bit about nudism. And I figured you boys are soon going to be at that age where you're going to be curious about your bodies and the changes you are experiencing, and about the bodies of other boys," he observed, looking at Bobby and Benny. "A nudist campground?" repeated Bobby continuing to stare out the window as his three brothers looked at their father innocently, figuring it best not to tell him he was six years too late regarding their curiosity. "As I said, since Mom and the babies couldn't join us this holiday, I thought it would be a good opportunity for you. Just give it a try for the night, and if you're too uncomfortable we can move to a different campground tomorrow." "Sure, Dad, we'll give it a try for you," Brett said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Fu-, fu-, fu-, fucrying out loud yeah!" agreed Bobby. Accompanying their father to register, their eyes grew even wider when they saw a handsome bare-chested man and a hot-looking fifteen-year-old boy at the counter. "Barry!" shouted the man with obvious delight upon seeing him.
"You've made it! Wonderful!" As he stepped out from behind the counter, the boys were disappointed to find he was wearing shorts. The man gave their father a huge hug. "And these have to be your boys," he observed, turning and looking at the four boys. "There's no question they have the look of the Brewster about them." Barry introduced his boys, who politely nodded and smiled, and the man introduced the fifteen-year-old boy behind the counter as his son Greg, who again to the boys disappointment was wearing shorts. However, as he sat back down on the stool and raised his leg, it was evident he was commando, and that he wanted the four boys to know. "Like I said on the phone, Phillip, we'll try it out. But if the boys are uncomfortable ." "If they are anything like their ol'dad they're not going to be the least bit uncomfortable," Phillip interrupted. "And from what you were telling me last time you were here, you're going to fit right in too. I've reserved you a corner site. They're a bit bigger, and you have a bit more privacy," he said, filling out the papers. "Be sure you read the campground rules carefully. We don't have many, but we enforce them strictly here. And I'm sure you boys are already wondering," he continued as he looked at Barry's sons. "The peaches and pears on the branches marked with ribbons are free for registered guests. But only pick what you can eat, and pick them carefully so you don't damage the trees."
That wasn't what the boys were wondering, but it was great news. It was a small campground, with only two dozen sites, all of which would be filled by the next evening. As Barry drove to their site, the boys noticed that besides the fact they were all naked, there were no women or girls and that almost every campsite had one or more kids. "So, do we strip before we put up the tent?" asked Bobby excitedly as they began to unpack the station wagon. "It isn't necessary," Barry advised. "Remember clothing is optional. It isn't mandatory that you go naked" "Just didn't wanna be different," Bobby explained, glancing across the road at the naked man lounging in a chair. He was huge, and hairy. "Big ," he whispered to his brothers as he glanced at them, and the boys all giggled. "I expect you boys to be on your best behaviour," Barry warned. "Yes, Dad," they all agreed. They were not about to do anything that might curtail their stay here! "That guy said you'd been here before," observed Benny. "That's right," Barry admitted, wondering if any of the boys had caught that. "Phillip started up the campground two years before we moved to the States.
When we holidayed here, I stopped over to visit with him." "Cool." The boys quickly stripped down to their shorts, because of the heat of course, and helped their father set up the tents, one for Barry and one for the boys, and store their things away. Barry started up the barbeque while Brett read them the rules. Like Phillip had said, there were not many, and most were the standard campground rules about quiet hours and picking up your litter. There were a couple very unique ones. One was access to the pear and peach orchard which was Phillip and his lover's main source of income and that he'd already explained to them. Another was of course that clothing was optional except in the store, where shorts and sandals or other footwear were required. The third was that photography was totally prohibited, much to the boys' disappointment. With the hamburgers cooked, Barry knew the boys were itching to strip the rest of the way. Giving them the nod, they quickly chucked aside their shorts and underwear, and after a bit of coaxing, Barry stripped down also. Of course it was not the first time the boys had seen their father naked, nor Barry his sons, but sitting there in the open air at their picnic table and eating hamburgers in the raw was quite different from stripping down at the pool.
Barry did have a flashback to another occasion where the five of them were naked, triggered by the sight of them happily sitting there chowing down on their burgers, but that he credited to having an overactive imagination and the fact that it had been almost a week since he'd last had sex with Brenda. After eating, they put on their swimsuits and grabbed some towels and drove down to Three Mile Beach which was only a few minutes away. Being a small beach down the bottom of a steep set of steps, and the sand being a lot coarser than the boys remembered at Skaha, they were disappointed until they discovered that the smaller area on the right of the stairs and beyond a large willow was a CO area for men and women. That changed their opinion, and they immediately chucked their suits and began checking everyone out.
The beach being popular with the Okanagan's naturalist and gay populations, there were plenty of men and boys coming and going to check out. There were a few women and girls too, which the boys also checked out, mostly out of curiosity, and because it was not something they had many opportunities to do. The time passed by quickly. Returning to their campsite, the boys headed off to investigate the playground and arcade while their father visited with some of the adults. Barry, of course, had known that the campground was an all male nudist camp and that a section of Three Mile Beach was reserved for nudists. He'd also known that Phillip was gay, and that the other campers there were either gay or bi. With his boys' recent interest and support of the homosexual community back home, he had figured this would be an opportunity for them to find out a bit more about that alternative lifestyle in safe surroundings. Phil had told him that those who came there were family men, either married like himself or divorced or separated from their wives, some of whom were now living with a lover. Phillip had also told him that many at the camp came there for the opportunity for father-son bonding, which was especially important considering their sexual orientation. Figuring there could not be a more nurturing environment in which to bond with his own sons, and initiate some discussion on the very sensitive topic of sexuality, he'd seized the opportunity to take this holiday although he did wish it could have been a few years later.
His boys were still a bit too young for such exposure in his view. What Phillip had neglected to tell him and that the other adults did not mention his first night at the camp because they assumed he knew, was that most of the fathers there engaged in a very special type of bonding with their sons, and that there was one event held at the campground that promoted and celebrated that type of bonding. The boys on the playground were not so shy, and the four Brewster brothers were shocked and delighted at the news. "Oh maaaaan!" exclaimed Benny as the boys returned to their campsite. "This place is so wicked!" "Fu-, fu-, fusure," stumbled Bobby. "Oh yeah! Thanks for bringing us here," agreed the twins as they gave their father a big hug. "Oh yeah," agreed their two younger brothers, joining in on the group hug. "Can we roast some marshmallows, Dad?" "Oh yeah! Can we? Please?" "Very well," Barry agreed, "but you'll have to be especially careful." "Yeah, or we could have roasted weenies instead," giggled Bobby, causing his brothers to laugh. "And toasted buns," added Brent, causing them to giggle all the more. Barry smiled. He would have to have a serious talk with his boys, but for tonight, he decided it was best to just let them be boys. The next day, Wednesday, was a busy day. Getting up early, the Brewster clan headed off to the Radio Astrophysical Observatory, something that interested all of them but especially Bobby and Brett. From there they headed to the Okanagan Game Farm where they spent the rest of the morning observing the animals. After a picnic lunch of baloney sandwiches, fresh fruit and candy bars their father had packed and several more hours at the farm, they headed to Sudbury Beach on Skaha Lake where they had spent many summers growing up. They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, diving off the floating dock, and playing in the sand.
After stopping in at Boston Pizza, they headed for the midway and the rides, ending the day with the eleven o'clock fireworks. By the time they got back to their campsite the boys were exhausted, but not that exhausted that they didn't have the energy to look up Greg and a couple other new friends for an evening jerk circle before returning to their tent and drifting off to sleep. It had been a totally awesome, fun-filled day. Thursday was another full day with the clan heading back down to Okanagan Falls for a tour of the Okanagan Dried Fruits factory to start off the day, and of course buying several cases of "Sunshine Kids" dried fruit snacks and a box of twenty-four cherry fruit bars, a confection made of a cherry fruit snack and yogurt coated with almonds and crisped rice. After Barry assured the boys he did not want to try the jump at Bungy World despite their offer to take his picture, they returned to Penticton and took in the Reptile Rendezvous House. They finally had to drag Bobby away or the eleven-year-old would have spent the day there. That afternoon they went tubing down the river channel, another old favourite from past holidays, and then swung by Judy's Chocolates to stock up on sweets, another favourite family custom. That afternoon from four to eight was the annual Rotary sand castle competition.
While planning for the trip the boys had originally planned on burying their dad and constructing one giant and detailed sand penis, but then they saw a commercial on television with a bunch of guys making a sand statue of Michelangelo's David, which they thought would be even more awesome. It was soon clear that they were way out of their league compared to some of the contestants and they gave up and wandered around looking at the creations instead. "I hope you boys weren't too disappointed," Barry consoled as they headed back to the campsite. "Heck no," replied Brent, and his brothers quickly agreed. "I figured all along that TV commercial was fake," observed Brett. "There's no way they could make a statue that big out of just sand." "Besides, we wanna be back at the campsite by nine," added Benny. "Oh yeah!" the boys all agreed. "Why?" Barry asked. "For the Peach Park Perpendicular Pecker Hour," explained Benny.
"We are going, aren't we?" "Oh. Ah. Well. I guess. If you boys want to," Barry replied. He remembered seeing the event mentioned in one of the flyers he'd received when he'd registered, but he really had not had time to look at it, and besides, it sounded too risque for the boys, and he didn't intend on doing anything without them on this holiday. When he'd made that resolve back home, he'd had no idea just how close they were going to become on this vacation. "Are you sure you boys are permitted to attend?" "Fu-, fu-, fusure," Bobby replied, as he looked at his brothers, and all four looked at Barry as if he had suddenly turned purple or something. Sometimes they could not figure out their dad. By the time they arrived back at their site and stripped, it was almost nine o'clock. Arriving at the tent where the event was being held, Barry was surprised to find at least two-thirds of the campers were there. They were sitting in clusters on the ground in a semi-circle around half a dozen tumbling mats. Many had brought blankets and pillows to sit on. Barry and the boys had barely gotten settled when Phillip closed the flap of the tent and made his way to the front of the semicircle of men and boys.
Barry could not help noticing that he looked just as sexy now as he had back when they were kids. "Welcome to the first night of the Peach Park Perpendicular Pecker Hour," he greeted with a huge smile. "It is great to see so many of you here to cheer on our performers. Tonight we have three performances. But before we begin, let me remind you of the guidelines that I know you've all read in the promotional flyer you received when you registered." He smiled and several of the members chuckled, including Barry. He was not the only one who'd given it a quick glance.
"The Peach Park Perpendicular Pecker Hour began three years ago with a group of fathers and sons getting together one evening and deciding to show each other their favourite way of turning each other on. It was all just some good fun to provide some simple good ol'time entertainment. The next year those who returned to the campground wanted to do it again and even more joined in, and so it's been each year. Even though it has grown in numbers, the purpose is still the same, to provide some simple entertainment. It isn't a contest and there are no winners or losers because the whole idea is to entertain those watching, and having fun doing it. Now with that in mind, we expect a lot of cheering and encouragement from the audience for all of our participants, but I'd ask you keep the talking to a minimum out of courtesy to them, and if you don't want to stay for the whole evening, I'd ask that you leave between performances. As I said, we have three father-son teams tonight. Remember the deadline for signing up is at nine a.m. each day. So, with no further ado, let the games begin." As Phillip sat down with his son Greg and lover Norm, a boy about a year older than Benny and a man in his late thirties entered the tent from the back flap. Both were fully dressed, which looked unusual considering everyone else was naked. Turning and facing each other, the man bent over and the two kissed, softly and tenderly.
That alone caused several in the audience to feel a stirring between their legs. As they continued to kiss, they began to caress each other, and to slowly unbutton each other's shirts and slide them off. They were both wearing white sleeveless T's, which they proceeded to slip over each other's heads. Both were darkly tanned and had light brown hair. The boy had just the beginnings of the finest wisps of hair in his pits, and the hair on the man's chest was also fine and densest around his nipples. As Barry watched the two caress each other's backs and run their fingers over each other's chests, he felt his dick begin to swell. An image of Benny brushing his lips against his and kissing him flashed through his mind. Barry shook his head. The image had been so real he could have sworn it was a memory.
As the boy unzipped his father's shorts and unbuckled his belt, Barry's attention returned to the performance. So, this was going to be a father son striptease. He wondered how far they were going to go. Slipping out of his sandals, the man steadied himself by placing a hand on his son's shoulder as he raised one leg and then the other and the boy pulled off his socks and he stepped out of his shorts. He was wearing a pair of plaid Joe Boxers. He then slowly and seductively removed his son's shorts, revealing the boy was wearing an identical pair of underwear, which many in the audience felt was a great touch. Every man and boy in the audience held their breath as the two reached out, and at the same time and speed, drew down each other's boxers. Both had deeply tanned cheeks, indicating they spent a lot of time nude and in the sun. Barry thought it had been a particularly great performance, and was ready to clap when he discovered they were not yet done. The two kissed again, and caressed each other, and their hands slowly dropped to caress each other's butts. With one arm about his father, the boy reached up and ran his fingers through the hair on his dad's chest, and an image of Brent doing the same to him flashed through Barry's mind. It was not the first time. Over the past year he'd thought about each of his boys doing that, usually as he'd showered, or sometimes just before drifting off to sleep.
Up until then he'd been focussing on the two performers, but as they reached down and cupped each other's balls, they crossed that boundary between artistry and eroticism, between the acceptable and the taboo. Glancing at his boys, he was not surprised to see them staring with rapt attention at the two on the tumbling mats and he wondered what he should do. They'd been told not to leave during a performance, but he'd had no idea that this was what the performance was going to be. To leave now would be rude, and would give his sons the wrong impression, but not in his wildest dreams had he imagined they would be exposed to something this intimate at the campground. The two continued to kiss as they fondled each other, and slowly they became erect.
Barry fidgeted with his own arousal, and his embarrassment for his sons. He could not believe they were actually watching a father caressing his son's stiff organ, or the young boy reverently stroking his dad's dong. Each looked down at what he was doing and what was being done to him as they slowly jerked each other off. Their motions were tender and gentle, and there was no doubt about the love between the two of them. A mix of emotions passed through Barry. He had lived his entire life in a society that made sex between relatives other than a man and wife illegal, and had been raised in a religion that said it was a sin. He understood the historical taboo against sex between relatives of the opposite sex and between individuals of the same sex. Inbreeding ultimately resulted in deformities, and homosexuality resulted in no children at all, both threats to early societies with high death rates. Society and religions had changed though, and especially these past twenty years.
There still were countries where homosexuality was illegal, but in most of those countries so were a lot of other things that were legal in the civilized world, including some basic rights of women and children and things as simple as seeing a woman's face and playing cards. Even religions had softened their stand on homosexuality, and some even supported gay marriages. People had changed too. They were healthier, and puberty was occurring at a younger and younger age. Many countries had recognized that and had lowered the age of consent accordingly.
Pornography laws had also undergone considerable liberalization during his lifetime. What his boys could legally see and hear on television, on their CD's, and in the theatre today twenty years ago had been prohibited even for him to see or hear as an adult, and what had been permissible for him twenty years ago had been available only through the black market for his father. There were few clear-cut rules, and issues were tremendously emotional and controversial. Abortionists clashed with anti-abortionists; gay, lesbian and bisexual support groups like PFLAG clashed with groups like Focus on the Family which promoted traditional family values; extremists like the Westboro Baptist church clashed with extremists at the other end of the spectrum like the Metropolitan Community Church; and even within the gay community groups like NAMBLA supporting sex between men and boys clashed with those who promoted age restrictions. Exactly what those age restrictions should be and even if they should be the same for boys as girls nobody was presently able to agree.
Not even everyone agreed sex between fathers and sons should be taboo. Barry, of course, had his own opinions, and like the society he was living in, he had struggled to arrive at them. Agreeing to camp at Phillip's campground was a good example. He personally believed in nudism for all ages and both sexes, though he'd never had the opportunity to practice it himself except for some private outings with his buddies. Despite his belief, he had never had the courage to suggest to Brenda they spend a day at Three Mile Beach, and he had been hesitant about bringing his sons to Peach Park.
Unlike the Hollis's, he was not so open about his belief even though it was perfectly legal. As for the issue of homosexuality, although he felt no prejudice against those who practised an alternate life style and was proud of his sons' efforts to promote the Scouting for All movement and their most recent promotion of Gay Pride Day, he had avoided discussing homosexuality with them. Even though he'd had more than a few homosexual experiences himself as a teenager and as a married man, knowing that Phillip was gay and those at the campground would be gay or bisexual had caused him to seriously debate if he should bring his sons to the campground and expose them to that type of lifestyle.
The last thing he wanted to do was to do anything that would influence their own orientation. The issues around nudism and homosexuality he had eventually worked out, although when he'd pulled into the campground Tuesday evening those deeply imbedded doubts had returned. Underlying those doubts was something much deeper however, something he had constantly postponed facing. Always having been one who had dared to challenge the established authority on things, even as a child, he'd always had a liberal attitude about sex and a vivid imagination.
When he was twelve, he'd drawn an adult version of the Batman and Robin comic book which his mother had found and had tried to curb by telling him the lump of coal in his sock was a sign of Santa's displeasure over the obscene comic. She had not been successful. He'd simply become more careful where he'd left his drawings, and if anything, his curiosity about the forbidden grew. His mother would have been shocked if she'd known some of the things he'd dabbled in with his buddies, including Phillip.
His modest collection of "men's" magazines under his bed explored the many so-called non-vanilla aspects of sexuality and attested to his continued curiosity throughout his teen and adult life. The vivid fantasies which he used to enrich his jerk off sessions when it was not possible to have sex with Brenda was a further testament to his wild imagination. One of those fantasies, which had begun with the birth of the twins, and which had been occurring more and more regularly since last father's day, almost as if they were flashbacks, was having sex with his boys. Those were his two biggest secrets, and he had not yet to come to terms with them. He had faced many things in his life, but his interest in the less traditional facets of sex, and in his own sons, were not two of them. Now, there he was, with his boys, at a nudist camp, watching a father and son jacking each other off and he did not know if he should be feeling aroused or guilty. The moans of the two performers had become louder, and from the sounds they were making and from the expressions on their faces, they were thoroughly enjoying their performance, and had clearly forgotten they even had an audience.
The young boy was licking his lips, which were delightfully rosy and tender looking, and he was staring down at his and his father's crotches with clouded, half-lidded eyes. His father's chest was rising and falling visibly as the man inhaled and exhaled deeply with arousal. The two of them squirmed and twisted with their approaching orgasms as their fists slowly and methodically pumped each other's now throbbing cock. They finally erupted, almost simultaneously. The boy's hot, young seed blasted up in the air, striking his father in the chest and clinging to his curly hair. The father shot almost as high, and his thick white juice oozed down his son's smooth chest and over his flat belly. Shot after shot erupted out of their cocks and the unique fragrance of spread across the room of heavily breathing men and boys. Finally spent, the son and father embraced, pressing their sticky bodies together as they kissed and the audience burst into applause.
"That was wicked," Benny said approvingly as the two disappeared behind the curtain. "Ah, yes it was," Barry agreed hesitantly, avoiding looking down at his son's crotch. "I think we'd better go now." "Now?" his four boys asked in surprise. "You heard what they said about leaving only between performances." "But they got two more yet." "That will make it pretty late, and we got a big day planned for tomorrow." "Aw, com'on, Dad. Just one more?" Benny pleaded. "Yeah, one more, Dad? Pleeeease?" Barry never could resist those big eyes and sorrowful looks of his sons. Besides, to leave would be telling the boys he disapproved of watching others have sex, or of fathers and sons having sex, which would be lies, besides promoting the same type of negativity about sex as he'd grown up with. Before he could think of a better reason for leaving, the second participants entered. These two were naked, the man carrying a lawn chair and the boy a stool. The boy was about fifteen, five--seven, a hundred-and-forty-five pounds, with brown hair and brown eyes.
His father was about four inches taller and had the same brown hair and eyes. His chest was broad and bulged with muscle and he had thick biceps and a solid six pack. Barry had seen him driving about the campsite in a large new 4 x 4 wearing a baseball cap and smoking a Sherlock Holmes type of pipe. He understood the man was a divorced long distance truck driver who was home schooling his son on the road. The man had a thick, impressive looking sausage and low- hung balls, but what was even more striking were his thick, hairy thighs and calves and his long, wide, meaty . "Holy shit," whispered Bobby. "He's got even bigger than yours Brent!" "Oh maaaaan," Benny whispered. "You could water ski without skis with that size!" Sitting down on the lawn chair and putting his up on the stool, the man smiled at his son as he sat down on the tumbling mat with a leg on each site of the stool. Taking his daddy's right and wrapping his hands about the wide ankle just above the bone, he began to massage it.
He tightened and relaxed his fingers as he worked them around in a circle above the bone, and then reversed his direction, gently at first, and then more firmly. After doing his left , the boy slowly and gently ran his fingertips in concentric circles over the protruding ankle bone on the outside of each simultaneously. Working across the front of his father's , he similarly massaged the ankle bone on the inside of each and then began to work down along the sides of his father's wide, fleshy toward his toes. The boy's father leaned back in his chair and sighed. There were many ways in which one person can please another, and in which a son can please his father, and that was what the evening was all about, sons and fathers pleasing each other. You could sense every man and boy in the audience beginning to relax. Grasping his father's large toe with his thumb on the outside and his fingers between his large and second toe, the boy looked up at his father seductively as he slid his fingers up his toe to the nail and back down again, much in the manner that a young boy might fiddle with himself. That was exactly the impression he gave, and several in the audience felt their cocks begin to swell once again.
The man's were wide and his toes were spaced apart, especially the first and second, and the second and third toes. Raising his father's right as he bent over, the boy ran his tongue along the underside of his father's toes, beginning with the outermost tips, and then running his tongue back along the centre of the fat digits and finally back along the crevice between the toes and the pad of his . Saliva quickly filled his mouth, and he pursed his lips and dribbled a small amount over the top of each digit. As his saliva slowly ran down and between each toe, his father's cock began to rise, and so did the cocks of many of those watching. Slipping his mouth over his father's largest and second largest toe, he sucked in, sucking back in his saliva which had basted his father's toes. Several of the men sighed, and more than one had begun to leak pre-. Running his tongue over his dad's largest toe, he traced the four sides of his nail, and then ran his tongue along the bulbous tip and under it. He licked down to where his toe joined his and then up along the outer side and back down the other, wedging his tongue between the large and second toe.
Moving on to the second, he gave it the same thorough lick, nail, underside, and then the right and left sides. He worked from the smallest to the largest toe of the one , and then did the same with the other . He then began to lick the sole of his father's , which caused his father's cock to begin to leak pre-. Running his tongue over the fleshy pad, he licked down the inner edge of his father's sole, and then licked back up to the long, fat toe beside the largest, only to reverse his direction and lick back down. So he continued to lick up and down the man's meaty from toe to heel for the other three toes and then did the same to his left . His father squirmed and spread apart his toes in delight. When the boy slipped his mouth over his father's large toe and looked up at him as he began to suck, several men in the audience could hold back no longer and ejaculated right there in front of everyone. The boy and his father were highly aroused by then also. Sliding the stool back and sitting up on it, the boy took his father's fleshy and placed them on either side of his hot, slender teenage cock. The man's wide, meaty totally enveloped the boy's dick.
The boy began to rock back and forth, rubbing his cock against his father's soles, and it only took a minute before he could hold back no more and with a gasp and satisfied sigh, he shot off like a little geyser, his shooting up between his father's toes and falling back down to ooze between them and down the backs. Feeling his son's hot, creamy load flowing over his , the father heaved his hips upward and blasted off also, his shooting high in the air and landing on the mat between his legs. The boy and his trucker father received an even longer and louder round of applause and everyone took a break to cool down. The third and last participants for the day was a foursome, a father and his lover and their two sons, aged thirteen and fifteen. Although it was hot watching the two men being stimulated by the two boys, and then seeing the two boys being fucked by their two dads, it was everyone's consensus that the hottest performance of the day had been the boy and his trucker dad. "Oh maaaaan," sighed Benny as they returned to their campsite.
"That was so wicked!" "Oh yeah," agreed his three brothers. "Did you like it, Dad?" asked Bobby. "Well," said Barry, feeling most uncomfortable. "Yes, it was wicked, as you say," he began lamely. "I certainly didn't have any idea that was what we were going to see." "Didn't you read the flyer about it?" asked Brett. "No, I'm afraid I didn't," Barry confessed. "Then it must have really been a surprise," giggled Bobby, and they all had to laugh. "Well, I'm glad you let us go," said Brent, wrapping his arm about his father and giving him a big hug. "Oh yeah," agreed his three brothers, and they quickly moved in for a hug too. "Well," said Barry, feeling more relaxed. "You boys want a snack before you go to bed?" The boys all looked at each other. "Yeah!" they said together. "What would you like?" "Daddy ," the said in unison. "Huh!" Barry responded in surprise, suddenly becoming very uncomfortable again. "That isn't what I had in mind." "Aw, com'on, Dad," urged Brent. "It'll be great." "Oh yeah. That looked so hot!" "Well, boys, watching is one thing, but doing is very different," Barry responded as he desperately tried to think what to do.
"Oh yeah!" the boys agreed, taking a very different meaning than Barry had meant. "Com'on," Brett urged, taking his dad by the hand and pulling him toward their tent. He was quickly joined by his three brothers. "Ah, boys, this is serious," Barry objected as he was drawn over to their tent. "Sh-, sh-, sh-, awh fuckit, shit yeah," Bobby agreed. Highly aroused from the evening's performances, and having a more pressing and serious problem facing him, Barry chose not to reprimand his youngest for his language. "Boys, really, we need to talk," said Barry as his boys dragged and pushed him into their tent. "Kay," one of the twins said, though he was not sure which one. He knew it was either Brent or Brett because their voices were deeper than their two brothers. As they lay down on the sleeping bags and the four naked boys snuggled up to him, he felt desire beginning to swell up between his legs. "Really," he said, trying to sit up but finding it impossible to move with the four boys' arms about him. "Men and boys having sex with each other," he began as he felt the boys shifting around in the dark tent and then several pair of hot hands his legs.
"Is totally wicked," finished Benny. Barry knew it was Benny because his voice cracked and suddenly went high, causing his three brothers to giggle in amusement. "It sure is," agreed Bobby, trying to make the same effect, causing even more laughter. "Very funny," observed Benny. "Seriously," Barry continued. The boys had turned around and he found his head surrounded by four pairs of young boy and felt several pair of hands sliding down his calves. "Boys," he said more sharply, "really, we need to talk about dads having sex with their sons." "Can't Dad." "Why not?" "We ain't supposta talk with our mouths full," came the giggle. Barry felt a couple lips envelop his toes, and as the boys shuffled into a better position, four pairs of lips. "Boys, boys," he objected, reaching down to stop them and finding several smooth, naked butts. "Mmmph," came the reply, along with chuckles and giggles and the butt he had his hand on wiggled. Well, Barry decided, finding it impossible to sit up with four boys laying on him, at least it was just his . When you really thought about it, it was no different from the five of them having a tickling match, something they used to do a lot of when the boys were younger, and which he suddenly realized he missed. Really, there was nothing illegal about boys licking and sucking their father's , or immoral, and they were having fun. Nor to his knowledge were there any laws forbidding a dad from licking his son's he figured as one of Brent's swung in front of his eyes.
He knew it was Brent's because he had the largest of the four boys, and they had a unique odour, not unpleasant, but enticing in a way, almost like a mild cheese, something which he knew his brothers always teased him about. He reached up and holding the wiggling leg steady, he ran his tongue along the sole, causing its owner to wiggle and shriek. "What's goin' on?" came a voice. "Dad's licking my ," replied Brent. "Awesome!" "Way to go Dad!" "You're the coolest!" "Mmmhuh," came a fourth voice, obviously Bobby's as he sucked on his father's large toe.
With that type of encouragement, what father could resist? Barry decided he might just as well enjoy himself. They were just having fun. Bunching a couple pillows under his head, he began licking Brent's toes, running his tongue from the smooth, soft pad of his up along the underside of each toe. At the same time he felt a large toe running along his right cheek and his jaw line, and a slightly smaller running along his other cheek. Obviously it was Brett and Benny. A still smaller was stroking his chest. Along with being stroked by four boy , four hot, hungry boys were attacking his, sucking on his toes, worming their tongues between them, and licking the backs of his . Barry did not know it of course, but this was not the first time the boys had so enjoyed themselves. Each of the boys was thinking back to Father's Day just over a year ago and the fun they'd had with their dad. Feeling his course beard against their tender toes, Brett and Benny sucked on their father's all the harder and wondered when they'd start getting facial hair.
Feeling his dad licking the sensitive sole of his caused Brent to squirm and lap at his father's sole all the more eagerly. Copying his father's actions was so hot. He felt his dick starting to swell and he pressed his smooth, naked body against his dad. As for Bobby, the smell and taste of his father's and rubbing his toes against his nipple and causing it to become firm caused his little dicklet to begin to swell also. The memory of their earlier experience with their father, and sucking and licking his big was having a similar effect on Benny and Brett. His own memory having been blocked by Brent's spell, Barry believed this was his first time with his boys. That was creating a mix of feelings. The openness and eagerness of the boys was highly erotic, and he thought back to his boyhood and how eager and open he had been about sex back then, any type of sex. Those were wonderful memories and his cock began to swell even more as he thought back when sex was new and mysterious and there were no hangups. The boys' unabashed desire and their energy was contagious, and as he felt the blood racing through his body he felt good. Living in a society where he was constantly bombarded with the fact that father-son sex was illegal and sinful, he could not help having guilt feelings, but the pleasure he was feeling and the obvious delight and willingness of his boys soon blocked those feelings out.
How could one feel guilty about something that felt so good, and that his boys were so clearly enjoying? The boys were enjoying themselves. They enjoyed anything that involved sex, and they enjoyed anything that involved their dad, so putting the two together was super good. That he was going to be able to remember this experience made it all the better, though the secret they shared about last father's day had given that adventure its unique pleasure too. Actually, every adventure the boys had ever had was memorable and thoroughly enjoyable. As the four of them licked their father's now wet , running their tongues between his toes and through each other's spittle, their dicks stiffened out with arousal and they squirmed with delight. Barry was enjoying the experience too. Having his four sons sucking and licking his , and feeling their four naked bodies pressing against him was unbelievably arousing.
Their flesh was so smooth and so hot, and what they were doing was so erotic his heart was beginning to race. As the boys shifted and he felt a hot, slender probe slide across his body and another prod him, he knew his four boys had gotten erections, and that thought combined with his already growing arousal resulted in his cock springing up also. The boys soon discovered that they'd gotten their dad stiff, and they purposefully pressed their bodies closer to him to feel his hot, hard man cock against their flesh. The small tent filled with the scent of hot sweaty boys and with the muskiness of male sex. As Brent's slipped from Barry's mouth another was there to replace it. Five pairs of toes expanded and contacted with arousal. Young boy stroked the stubble on Barry's cheeks and young tender toes ran through the hairs on his chest.
Hot young boys pressed up against him as they licked and sucked and stroked his , their stiff boy cocks seeming so large and so hot in the dark tent. Barry was not totally surprised at the size of his boys' cocks as they pressed up against him and rubbed. They were, after all, Brewsters, and being well endowed was one of the less publically known Brewster traits. Those four stiff members were, however, unquestionable evidence that his boys were not children any longer, not even young Bobby. His four sons were hot, randy sexual beings, feeling the same desires and needs as he was, with the same hot blood pulsating through their veins. That thought was so erotic Barry suddenly felt the first of his pre- ooze out of his aching cock. "Ah, boys," Barry gasped. "We have to stop. Boys, really." He fought back the desire that was building in his loins and he tried to sit up, but with four hot, squirming, naked boys on top of him, that was not going to happen. "Boys! You know what happens if a man gets too aroused. You saw what happened to the fathers tonight," Barry warned. He could feel his sons' hot breaths on his , their hot hands stroking his thighs, the sides of his butt.
He could feel their hot, throbbing cocks rubbing against his body, their smooth cheeks brushing along his calves, the twin's long hair sweeping over his toes. "If you don't stop immediately I won't be able to hold it back. I mean it. Boys, you don't realize what's going to happen. Oh. Boys! Ahh!" Barry clenched his eyes and tried to will back what he knew he could not stop. With a feeling of immense pleasure, embarrassment, satisfaction and regret, Barry groaned and stretched out as he felt an uncoiling deep in his groin and his surge up his nine-inch cock and shoot out into the darkness to land he knew not where. Never could he remember shooting so furiously. Shot after shot spurted out of his throbbing cock, which having nobody holding it in place, thrashed about like a fire hose. Hot struck his stomach. A streamer of fell across his thigh. He could not recall coming so copiously since he was a randy young teenager. Another wad of struck his tight, hairy balls and another laced across his chest. As another streamer laced his thigh and another his calf, he realized he'd stopped squirting, but hot shots of continued to strike him. His boys were coming too!
He shuddered with the thought of them emptying their young balls, of them enjoying the same pleasure of ejaculation as he was. He also realized that just as they were coming all over him, so he had probably sprayed them, and so they were spraying each other. Laying there in a tangle in the dark there was no way of knowing who had come on whom. His boys clung to him as if for support as their young, smooth bodies trembled with their climaxes and they gasped and groaned in ecstasy. Even Bobby, easily identified in the dark by his size, was quivering and moaning, evidently having a dry orgasm.
The thought of his youngest laying there naked, his body streaked with his and that of his brothers, and his little dicklet throbbing and jerking uncontrollably with the greatest pleasure a man can know, caused Barry's still stiff cock to jerk with arousal. "Oh maaaaan! That was so fuckin' hot!" someone sighed. "Oh fuck yeah!" "Totally fuckin' wicked!" "Fuckin' right!" "You can say that again," agreed Barry with a sigh, unable to deny it had been fantastic. "Oh maaaaan! That was so fuckin' hot!" "Oh fuck yeah!" came a giggle. "Totally fuckin' wicked!" one of the boys repeated with a definite laugh. "Fuckin' right!" repeated the fourth, and all four collapsed in a quivering mass of giggles. Even Barry had to chuckle. It had been totally awesome, and under the circumstances, the boys could not be faulted for their vocabulary.
As they lay there, totally spent, their bodies laced with drying , he framed in his mind what he had to say to his boys about what they'd just done, about sex, about a lot of things. He never did. It had been an exhausting day, and a particularly exhausting evening. Within minutes he'd fallen asleep, and so had his boys. When he awoke, the sun was shining in their tent and the day was already warming up. One by one his sons woke. In the light of the day you could see dried flecks of on their arms and legs and torsos, even on their cheeks. Barry once again began to compose what he had to say. "That was wicked last night," Brent said with a stretch and a yawn. Barry noticed the boy had the beginnings of the finest pit hair and to his dismay he felt a tremor of arousal ripple up his limp penis. "Oh yeah, totally," agreed Benny.
"You were totally awesome, Dad," Brett said, looking at his father appreciatively. "Oh yeah," agreed his three brothers. "You're the best dad in the world," announced Bobby, giving his naked father a hug. "You bet!" agreed his three brothers as they joined in the hug. "And you boys are the greatest," Barry responded. With that type of uninhibited, guiltless greeting, what more could a father say? His lecture about sex would have to wait. As he headed off for a shower, he was not the only father with a happy grin that morning. Returning to their campsite, he started breakfast while the boys took their showers. To their dismay, the Briggs brothers were there.
The three boys had been strutting around the campsite, posing and flexing to show off their muscles ever since the Brewsters had arrived. They had good cause. They were big-boned, like their father, and had to work out regularly from the size of their biceps and thighs. They were uncut and better hung than most, something else they were smug about, and the older two already had the beginnings of body hair. Like their father they shaved the sides of their heads, and wore their dirty-blond hair in a crewcut. Also like their father they had ruddy cheeks and small eyes and pug-like noses which gave them a rugged look despite their young age. "So, you guys and your dad gonna entertain everyone one of these nights?" asked Wally, the older of the boys as he and his two brothers stepped up on either side of the twins at the urinals. Brent and Brett shrugged. "Some of the fathers think it'd be hot seeing you two blondies getting it on with your dad," he observed. "We haven't decided yet." "You afraid of working up a little sweat?"
"Maybe they're afraid of breaking a nail," suggested Frankie, as he flipped his wrist and batted his eyelashes. He was the youngest, a year older than Bobby "Yeah. Bet you cream puffs are all dainty and sweet," observed his oldest brother. "Who you calling cream puffs?" asked Bobby as he glared at the three of them. "Who do you think, Pillsbury boy?" "By the way, we been wondering," said the third boy, Michael, who was between the ages of the other two, "you two look like your dad, but you two look totally different. You adopted or something?" "No they ain't," replied Benny angrily, "and even if they were, that don't make no difference." "Yeah, well, if ya wanna see something hot, come watch our performance with our dad tonight. It's gonna be the hottest performance you'll see all week." "Com'on guys, we gotta go help Dad train," said the oldest "For tonight?" asked Bobby. "Of course not, dumbo.
For the Ironman Triathlon." "The what athon?" "The Ironman Triathlon on the twenty-sixth. Our dad came in second last year, and he's gonna win this year." "You dunces don't even know what that is, do you?" "It's a race," replied Brett. "Not just a race. It's a race for men, real men. You gotta swim thirty-eight hundred metres, then bike 180 kilometres, and then run forty-two kilometres, all in one day." "Our dad's a great swimmer, and runner." "And he won our town's bike race." "Oh yeah? Mustn't have been any competition from the looks of your dad." "What you mean by that?" challenged the boys. "He don't look like no athlete." "To be honest he looks like he's got a bit of a gut," observed the youngest. "Like most of the dads here." "Yeah, well he won, and there were guys half his age there." "And it was twenty-five miles." "Twenty-five miles?" snorted the oldest. "That's a piece of cake." "That's what Dad said," replied Bobby. "Yeah, whatever. Com'on guys, we gotta go. You wanna see some real he man fucking, you come watch us tonight." After a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, they headed north to tour Summerland Sweets at Summerland, the Sun-Rype Factory at Kelowna, and the Mission Hill Winery where the boys managed to sneak some wine samples themselves while offering to help pass the glasses to the adults.
That afternoon they spent at the Wild and Wet Amusement Park in Kelowna and returned to Penticton to take in a few rides at the midway, being sure to return to the campground in plenty of time for the evening performances. The Biggs family was up first. Their father, Walter, was a large man, six- tall and two-hundred pounds, all solid muscle, with a blue eagle tattooed on each forearm. He was hairy, even hairier than Barry, with a dark black moustache and well-trimmed beard and short hair that was beginning to recede at the temples. He was wearing a studded leather arm band about his biceps, a leather and chain harness, and thick chain anklets. His three boys were dressed identically with studded dog collars, rawhide straps about their wrists and ankles, and studded leather belts from which hung short chains. The oldest boy, who was sixteen, had already begun developing a bit of a moustache and beard and he had tufts of chest hair at the V of his neck and around his nipples. He and his younger brother Michael had thick pit hair. All four of them were glistening with sweat, evidently having been exercising before the performance. They wasted no time.
While Michael ran his fingers through his dad's thick mat of hair and began to caress his nipples, Wally opened up a jar containing motor oil and dipped his middle finger in it. As he ran his finger up and down his dad's hairy crack, the youngest boy dipped the fingers of his right hand in the oil and began to stroke his dad's cock, which quickly responded to the caresses of the three boys. Wally dipped his middle finger in the oil again, and this time slipped his finger up his dad's asshole and began to finger fuck it. They soon had their father erect and they knew his uncut cock, over seven inches long and three fingers thick, was longer and fatter than most dad's. The boys had gotten hard also, and it was easy to see where they'd gotten their blunt, thick cocks from. Their brute masculinity had several in the audience hard already also.