Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. first time, gay male, bisexual This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! secondself@gmx.com Ch. 3 Quinn's Other Love My name is Quinn McLeod. My wife died two years ago. My daughter, Jesse Margaret and I just began an incestuous relationship. I run a company, am surrounded by friends and family, and I have a male lover who is my best friend. I am in the closet now not just about one lover, but about two. Here's the story of how my bartender became my lover. There's a lot of backstory here before you get to the sex stuff. So, if that bothers you, skip ahead. My wife was diagnosed with cancer when my daughter, Jesse, was eleven. I tried so damned hard to hold everything together, and the family and my closest friends and my employees all were completely amazed that I did. Fact is that I started stopping off at this little pub on my way home from the office, an Irish pub with the very non-Irish name, Ken's Bar. Over the months of my wife's diagnosis and the long years of her valiant and finally losing battle with cancer, our friendship grew. It was Ken, you see, on whom I came to lean for strength and support. When I couldn't break down in front of the family, I could literally sometimes cry in my beer while Ken listened. A man of few words, Ken is an inch taller than me at 6'4", a manly man, muscles shaped from hoisting kegs, an occasional brawl, and, like me, he's a former boxer. He knows when to keep his trap shut, and he knows when to kid me out of a funk. He's a great friend. My daughter was sixteen when I came home one day and she ambushed me with a special dinner and a long, serious discussion about her perception, "The fact," she said, that I needed a vacation, as I hadn't been away from her except on brief business trips since her mother got sick. My Jesse convinced me to take her black Lab, Mike, duck hunting and get away for a couple of weeks. I stopped in the bar and told Ken I'd been remanded to the wilds. He basically invited himself along, saying that he'd love to get away, and besides, he didn't think I really needed to be alone for two weeks. He was right. As much as I love the outdoors, I didn't really relish the thought of isolation at that point. Ken would make a perfect traveling companion. We headed to a heavily-laked area of the state and spent the first six days doing some really easy walking. We took a lot of photographs and all three of us got our walking legs back. On the morning of the seventh day, we headed out to the blind and Ken popped a beautiful mallard. Mike raced out to retrieve the bird and came back, I swear, with a gleam in his old eye I hadn't seen for years. We decided to leave the blind and walk to a small lake to see if the birds might be stopping over there. The days had been mild and the ground had thawed quite a lot. The night before, it got cold again. We talked about how thick the ice might be on the water, and whether it was thick enough for Mike to run on it if either of us shot a bird that landed on ice. Nearing the pond, we flushed some birds from the ground and I nailed one. Just as we'd spoken, the duck hit the ice. I looked at Ken and asked, "What do you think, Buddy?" Mike sat at my feet, shaking in excitement. Ken squinted his eyes and looked at the ice, cocked his head and said, "It was damned cold last night, Quinn. I think it will be okay." I looked at my old dog and ignored the voice in my gut and gave him the command to retrieve. Off he went. We watched his progress. He grabbed the bird, turned to come back, and I'd almost breathed a sigh of relief when I lost him. He went under and came up, front legs grabbing for purchase on the ice. Every time he nearly hauled himself out, the ice would break again. After five minutes, my dog started to flag. "Fuck! Why'd I let him do that? I KNOW to not ignore my damned gut. If that dog drowns, I may as well just join him in the drink. Jesse would NEVER forgive me!" "Goddamn, I'm sorry, buddy," Ken said miserably. I began taking off my outer layers, knowing that the only way Mike would make it back would be for me to break the ice so he could swim out. When Ken saw me stripping, he began taking off his clothes to give me his dry ones. I grimly cracked, "Don't trouble yourself, buddy, Mike may not be the only one who doesn't make it back." I walked into that frigid water and my balls retracted all the way to Hawaii. Before I was even in up to my knees, I couldn't breathe. I just kept my eyes on Mike and kept moving forward. I only had about 60 feet to go, but that was the damned longest sixty feet of my life. I felt the material of my long johns ripping as I broke ice with my forearms, but then I was numb and couldn't feel anything. As soon as I got to Mike, he swam past me, with the goddamned duck still in his mouth, bless that dog's stubborn spirit. I turned around and followed him, bloody grateful we were both still breathing. Ken had a couple of small towels from each of our packs getting some of the water off the dog. He waded in to give me a hand, and I stumbled out of the water. My hands were numb and I couldn't make them move so he pretty much undressed me and got me into his long johns and wrapped me back up in my pants and jacket. We had about a 45 minute hike back to the truck, which warmed me a little, but I was disoriented and knew that the woozy, disconnected feeling I had were not good things. We reached camp and luck with us, the embers from the morning fire were hot enough that Ken had the fire stoked damned fast. The morning was misty still, at 10 AM. Ken dragged Mike's bed near the fire and covered him in a wool army blanket from the truck. He gave me a mug of hot cocoa with a big shot of whiskey and made me sit by the fire. He said, "Okay, Quinn, here's the deal. You are hypothermic. We have to bring up your body temp. The best way to do that is skin on skin and fast. I'm going to zip our bags together and we're going to get naked in the tent, and don't you say a fucking thing about this being a queer thing to do, asshole." I just looked up at him miserably, and a spasm of shivering overtook me. Ken looked at me, panic reflected on his face. In a subdued voice, he said, "Hold on, buddy, just hold on. Drink that chocolate. I'll be right back to get you." True to his word, he came out of the tent and helped me stand and stumble back inside in just a couple minutes. Once again, he helped me undress and then undressed himself. I vaguely remember thinking to myself that my friend was hung like a donkey. He pushed me down on the bed on my back, and crawled in and wrapped himself around me. As my skin touched his, he groaned, "Geezus, Quinn, this is like hugging a freakin' Popsicle. You poor SOB." I couldn't talk at that point, as wave after wave of uncontrollable shivering passed through my body. I put my hand against him, seeking every scrap of warmth I could find, and he held me against him with his big broad hands. He rubbed my body slowly, trying to encourage circulation. I don't have any sense how long it took for me to quit shivering, must have been at least two or three hours. At some point, I roused and realized that I'd been asleep. I would have stayed asleep but for the fact that I had a buzz saw in my ear. I said, "Ken, buddy, wake up. You're about to blow out my eardrum." "Huh, what, you okay, Quinn? What?" Ken came to consciousness confusedly, and I said, "You were snoring up a mean streak. I need to move, Ken. Could I turn over and you hug my back? If feels as though a gazillion pins are pricking me, it hurts and it's driving me nuts." "Sure, Quinn, sure, anything." We disengaged and I rolled over. He waited until I was settled and then spooned the length of me, wrapping his arms around me again. As soon as his warmth hit my back, I began to settle down again, feeling a great lassitude come over me, a feeling of relief that I had managed to dodge this bullet. I felt the beginnings of warmth sinking in and was so grateful. I also felt Ken's cock against my ass cheeks. "Whoa," I thought to myself. "That's a novel experience." I lay there, now aware of his body. I could feel his chest against my back. He was hairy and I felt his fur tickling in a couple of places. His powerful legs held on to mine. And, right at my ass crack, that huge dick I remember noticing. Suddenly, I was really focused right there. Then I was aware of my own dick swelling. Holy fuck. Ken had his arms wrapped around me so that one arm was under my head. His fingers rested on my nipple. As he breathed, his fingertips rubbed against that sensitive skin. I lay there and started to sweat. I was freaking out, to say the least. My best friend's body was turning me on. Hell, it wasn't just his body. That was a huge part, but here was this guy who just literally saved my life....he'd been saving it for the past four years. In a rush, I realized just how deep my feelings went for him. THAT made the scared I felt earlier before hitting the water feel like nothing. THIS was scary. Christ on a crutch, what the fuck? "Ken, buddy, I have a problem. We have to talk." Ken jerked to attention, "Christ, Quinn, what's wrong?" I took the hand that was on top, his right hand, and reached it down to my completely stiff cock. "This is what's wrong! Damnit, I'm turned on. You're turning me on." The feeling of that huge hand on my stiff joint was fucking heavenly. I never thought that touching me would freak him out. I guess that I figured if I felt hot, so would he. His hand gripped my cock and I felt him pull me closer and kiss the back of my neck, kind of biting me at the same time. "Bout goddamned time, buddy," he said softly. His hand reached down and took my balls, pulling them tight, but not yanking, the same exact pressure I use when I'm pulling my meat. I reached my arm back and felt his dick now pushing against my ass. "Uh, Ken, HUH?" He groaned as my hand wrapped around his giant cock, exploring the length and girth. I'm by no means a small dude, but my friend had to be ten inches and damned near seven around. Holy shit. "Just shut up right now, okay, buddy? Just be quiet." He pulled me to my back and laid directly on top of me. It was still light out, only about three in the afternoon. The feel of his body on top of me, looking into his eyes so close....we grabbed each other at the same time and kissed, a long, hard, liplock. I don't know if it was the hypothermia or what, but I came out of that kiss dizzy. I couldn't get enough of him, I wanted to feel him, taste him, take him. I curled under his arm and found his cock, tasting male dick for the first time in my life. The head was more like a fist that a cockhead, and I opened my mouth for it and groaned to feel it. I wanted to make my friend cum, wanted to swallow him. But, he clearly wanted the same. He grabbed my hair and pulled me up to him. "Quinn, slow down. You still need to stay warm. You lie on your back. I'm gonna kneel on top. Stay under me to save warmth." I complied, happily, and when his mouth closed around my dick, I damned near blew my load right then. His dick loomed large as he knelt over me and I grabbed it with my fist to keep from having him choke me. Again, taking him in my mouth, this time, I managed about six inches. My entire fist wrapped around the part I didn't manage to get in my mouth. He was fucking my cock with his mouth, hard and fast and I tried to keep up with him. He spat on his finger and I felt him playing at my ass. I have always loved ass play, and my wife and I regularly played with a strapon and I loved to bury my cock in her gorgeous ass. It had been years since my ass had been touched and his finger there sent me screaming, "FUCK, YES, KEN, DAMNIT, YES!" I rocked my ass onto his finger and begged him to fuck me. He stopped cold. He turned around and came up to me, panting. "You want me to put THIS dick in your ass, buddy?" I reached my hand down to his throbbing staff. Anyone would have to be a fool to say yes to such a question. "Oh yea," I said. "I want you to put THAT dick in my ass...I don't suppose you happen to have packed any lube, did you?" I'll be fucked if my friend didn't get a sly expression on his face right before he turned beet red. I slugged him and said, "You son of a bitch, you were PREPARED for this?" "Uh, Quinn, let's talk about that later, okay?" He reached in the hanging pocket in the tent and grabbed a small pot of ElbowGrease. He opened the pot and got a palm-full. "Spread your legs, Quinn," he said softly. I did. He kissed me again, very tenderly, almost reverently. The feeling behind that kiss caught me off guard. Then I felt him carefully pushing lube into my ass, fingers opening me slowly. I kept my hand on his cock, feeling the precum at the tip, wanting to taste him more, but so anxious to feel him fill me up. "I want to see your face, Quinn, so bring your legs up for me." Ken knelt between my legs and lathered up his dick. "I've never felt a real cock inside me, Ken. Only a strapon. I always wondered how it would feel, a hot human cock...now..." "Shhh, Quinn, just feel me..." His dick at my ass opening, slowly making its way in. "Oh fuck, yes, fuck, yes, fuccccccck, godDAMN yes!" I said as my ass took his tip. I spread my legs wide and gripped my ass cheeks to open myself. I was driven to take him all. "Don't go slow, damn it, fill me up, Ken! I need to feel you FUCK ME!" My urgent need telegraphed itself to him and he began moving inside me. His cock was so long that he could lie on top of me and fuck me. I just kept my legs open wide and he pinioned me. I leaned up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him wildly, whispering to him to fuck me harder, faster. I wanted to feel him inside me forever, this friend, this man who'd been my rock, whom I'd never realized I loved until my cock went hard just a little while ago. "Take me, goddamn it, Ken, make me yours, Lover!" He pulled out but only for a minute. He said, "You want me to really take you? Then get on your knees and spread 'em, Mighty Quinn. I'm gonna make you mine, alright." I did as he asked, not being able to wait to feel his cock back inside me. There it was again, filling me. He leaned against my ass, burying every inch of himself inside me, saying, "There, Quinn, you've got all of me. You've had me for years, you just didn't know it. Now you have all of me." Then he moved in and out, in shallow thrusts, rubbing my prostate really fast. I felt the contractions in my ass in a wild anal orgasm, gripping Ken's giant cock so hard that soon he was jetting his jizz deep inside of me, groaning and calling my name. He collapsed against me, his throbbing rod still buried in me. I sank into the mattress, amazed that it still had air after our aerobics on it. We lay on the bed, Ken lying on top of me, me with my hands behind me, stroking his body. I didn't want him to come out of my ass, but Ken had other ideas. He rolled me over, sliding out as he did. We kissed for a long time, getting to know one another's mouths, lips, tongues...I think each of us shed a few tears of joy, to be meeting a new lover in the guise of an old friend. My balls were aching and he said, hand reaching for my turgid cock, "I could sure stand to feel this in me, if you could do it." I grinned widely and said, "Well, it can't be THAT much different than putting him inside a woman's ass, and I've always LOVED doing that. Oh, yea, lover, I want to be inside of you. Now it's your turn to turn over." He rolled to his belly and I had him lie flat on the bed, keeping his legs between mine. I grabbed lube and then I realized that Ken had a really hot bubble butt. "Oh yea, baby, you are hot. Funny that I never noticed that before." Knowing that was for a later conversation, I just let it there and opened his ass with my finger. "Uh, Quinn, well, see..." It dawned on me then. Ken had a virgin asshole. "Ah, I gotcha, buddy, this is your first time, isn't it?" I was sure he was blushing as he said, "Just be gentle." "I will, buddy, just like you were when you were taking care of me today." I slid down between his ass cheeks and opened them with my hands and began licking and kissing his butt, circling closer to his asshole, teasing it slowly, then fucking his asshole with my tongue. Judging from his moans and encouragements, he liked that a helluva lot. Pretty soon he was begging me for more. I slipped my index finger in and reached to find his prostate and gently massaged it, feeling its smooth surface, knowing how much it would change in a very short while. When I touched it, he went crazy. Damn that first time is wild... Two fingers became three and I figured he was ready. I slicked up my tool and said, "Okay, baby, open your ass cheeks for me." "Oh, gawd, yea," he said, and I went in straight down, hitting the angle just right, I guess, because he took all eight inches in one slow steady entry. My turn to lie on him, feeling my balls mashing against him. I began rocking my pelvis into him, small thrusts, and felt him humping back against me. "Oh yea, Ken, that's it, show me how it feels best to you." I let him push against me, feeling his hunger, which made me crazy. Soon, I pulled him up on his knees and fucked him hard. I didn't think I'd last long, but I got in a zone and would get right to the edge then back down and slow down. He kept wanting it so I kept giving it to him until I couldn't stand it anymore. "Are you ready to take my seed, lover?" "Gawd, Quinn, give it to me!" I knew he thought I'd cum inside him, but I had other ideas. I slid out, carefully, and rolled him over. I straddled his chest and looked at his face, flushed and glazed, likely reflecting my own. Working my cock with one hand, and reaching behind me to work his with my other, I felt his own nearly ready to burst. "You gonna cum again for me, stud? I'm gonna shoot my cum all over your face, and I want to feel you fill up my hand, understood?" I worked us both and he bucked and moaned and I felt him start to blow just as I spewed the first shot up his chin and into his mouth, the rest of my seed spilling all over his chest. He filled my fist with jizz, which I used to torture his sensitive tip until he nearly tossed me off of him. I let go and looked down at him, covered in cum, and hot as hell. "Fuck, Ken, you are one hot man. How the hell did I miss that I fell in love with you?" "Geezus, Quinn, maybe it had something to do with losing your wife and worrying for four years in a row. I thought maybe you'd figure it out eventually. I just didn't know that you'd have to nearly die before you did. And, uh, yea, for the record, I love you, too." He pulled my face to him and we kissed, my heart opening in a way I never felt before. It was like finding a whole new set of rooms in the mansion that seems to live in my heart. All filled with love and heat and respect and a sense of the biggest adventure I'd ever been on. I rolled off of him and continued to hold him, cum and sweat making us slick. It was just getting dark. We hadn't eaten since five that morning. I was suddenly starving and ravenously thirsty. I kissed him again and laughed, a belly laugh, a joyous freakin' belly laugh. I heard Mike at the tent door, sniffing and whining. I unzipped the door and in he bounded. He, too, seemed recovered. And hungry.Ch. 3 McLeod Family Saga