1. Sweet Sixteen


    Date: 10/12/2017, Categories: Taboo, Author: spinneroftales, Source: LushStories

    I’m thirty-seven and my wife, Alma, is thrity-nine. We’ve been married for seventeen years. It’s a good marriage. We’re a good match and the sex life is okay, if mundane. Some weeks we do it two or three times and other times two weeks can slip by and we don’t do anything. It’s all kind of cut and dried. Alma has a little brother, Dennis, and by “little” I mean he’s twenty-three years younger than she is. I don’t know what her folks were thinking when they made him. But then again, they had already been drinking by then. Since then things have gotten a lot worse. Now they’re drunk every day. It’s really sad watching a pair of old people killing themselves with alcohol. Anyway, last year, when Dennis turned fifteen, we decided he had to get out of there, and brought him here to live with us. We should have done it long before. As the months passed we got to know each other better. By the time a year had passed and he reached sixteen we were comfortable with each other, and had accepted each other's quirks. Dennis is slightly effeminate. I don’t mean he prances around acting like he thinks he’s a girl. He just isn’t like most sixteen-year-old boys. He’s not interested in boy things, and he has a soft side. He’s cute – you could say almost pretty, and he’s a really nice kid – sweet really. So I wasn’t shocked when several months after his sixteenth birthday one day out of the blue he said, “Tony, I’ve decided I don’t like girls. I like boys.” As I said, I wasn’t shocked, but I ...
    was surprised he chose to tell me – surprised and pleased he had that trust in me. I said, “Well, if you’re sure that’s what you want, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just be sure it’s what you want, and not what somebody is telling you. But if it is, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. If it’s right for you, it’s right, period.” That was all that was said, but over the next several months I got the feeling he was paying a lot more attention to me. I mean it seemed he was around me all the time, and kept looking at me, watching me. Then I’d decided that was ridiculous and thought, ‘How conceited can one guy be?’ But those ideas would keep creeping back in my thoughts. I described Dennis, and although it isn’t really necessary, I’m going to describe myself. I’m pretty average looking, not homely I think, but nothing special. My body is also average. I’ve managed to keep the fat off. I have hair on my chest, stomach and legs, not a lot – if I was blond you probably wouldn’t notice it – but I have black hair. I also wear a beard. Not one of those short ones that look like the guy forgot to shave, but a full beard. I think it makes me look better, or at least stand out in a crowd. Dennis turned sixteen and life went plodding by, every day like the one before. One night about 9:00 I was lying in bed. Alma had gone off I don’t remember where now. I was horny. I had thrown back the bed sheet and kicked off my boxers. I was feeling my dick, squeezing it and running my thumb over ...
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