And now we find ourselves back up in Holden. This chapter is from Uncle Jack’s POV.
I stood in the doorway of the house, watching as the SUV pulled up into the long, winding drive. One by one, the boys piled out, as riled up as I’d ever seen them.
It was meant to be a reunion of sorts, some of Nate’s closest friends and the Scout troop that I’d led for so many years all convening in Holden for the weekend.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to get the gang back together?” I’d asked Nate before he’d headed back to school in August. I was trying, as always, to find anything that would engage him. To meet him where he was.
“Sure,” he’d said, barely committal. He’d seemed more interested in the weekend we’d planned with Kevin just a few weeks before. That somehow lit a fire in him, and by the end of it, he’d seemed calmer and more present than I could ever recall.
Until a few days later.
“I can’t come up,” he’d said through the receiver. “This weekend.”
“Seriously?” A flush of emotion rushed over me. I was disappointed. Hurt.
“I’m sorry, Dad. The other boys will be there, though, and they’re stoked. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
I held the receiver tight, trying to keep my voice even. “Yeah, but you’re the one I wanted to see.”
The other end was silent, Nate clearly searching for something, anything to say.
“I know. I’ll make it up to you.”
No explanation. No further apology. Just silence. And then he hung up.
So now, here I was, receiving a pack of my son’s best friends without the glue that held it all together—my own flesh and blood.
I walked out onto the front porch as the boys assembled before me, as young and fresh-faced as ever.
Greg—gregarious, knowing, a sophomore at SUNY Westbrook.
Steve—intense, a live wire, Greg’s teammate on the lacrosse team.
And mild-mannered Will—their childhood friend who’d come up from school in the city. He was a bit of a wildcard.
“Boys!” I called out. “You made great time.”
“Greg pumped it the whole fucking way,” said Steve, opening the back hatch to pull out his duffel.
Will rolled his eyes from behind, reaching for his own bag. “Felt like I was gonna ralph in that last stretch.”
“All right, all right,” Greg said, coming around from the front seat. “I don’t want to hear any complaints. Everyone is here safe and sound.”
Greg wrapped me in a hug, that bear of a guy, somehow just a boy when I met him, now at least 3 inches taller than me. He seemed even more imposing than he had at his visit over the summer.
“Welcome,” I said, patting him on the back before sharing hugs with the other two. “So glad to have you.”
“Bummer that Nate had to bail,” Will said. “Haven’t seen him since the beginning of summer.”
Greg and Steve eyed each other, their locked expression making me wonder if they knew more than they were letting on.
“It’s all right,” I lied, grabbing Will by the neck. “You boys were the ones I wanted to see anyway.”
We made our way inside, the three climbing the stairs to get set up in their rooms, me pulling out fixings for lunch.
I stood in the kitchen, assembling the platters of cold cuts and bread, chips and condiments.
It would be a good weekend, I told myself. Just us boys.
If Nate wouldn’t let me be the father I wanted to be, maybe these boys would.
We spent that first afternoon on the lake—kayaking, paddleboarding, all the stuff Nate hated. It was one of the last truly warm weekends before fall set in, the sun setting earlier behind the mountains behind the house, daylight saving time lurking in the weeks ahead.
I’d forgotten how nice it was to have quality time in the outdoors with boys like them, their energy infectious, their spirit inspiring. Greg and Steve had a clear rivalry, something that must have extended from their lacrosse season, but Will was a good foil. Being at a different school, he had less skin in the game. Besides, he was less of a classic jock than they were. Like me, I could tell he had real, genuine feelings, not so hemmed in by the bullshit demands of being a bro.
By 4:30, we piled back into the house, still damp from the lake, towels wrapped around our necks, board shorts hanging just below our waists.
“I’m gonna rinse off upstairs,” I told them as we dropped our stuff off in the family room. “Then I can start cooking us up some dinner. Feel free to hit the outdoor shower in the meantime.”
“First!” Greg shouted, making a break for the back sliding doors.
“Fucker,” muttered Will after him, following quickly behind in competition.
I smiled at how rambunctious they still were—competitive, like kids, even now.
Steve lingered behind, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out a beer before cracking it open.
He held it to his mouth before glancing at me, sheepish.
“C’mon, Mr. M,” he replied, before taking a swig and swallowing. “I’m practically 21 already.”
“Pace yourself,” I said, trying not to sound too much like a Dad.
I made my way upstairs, setting my towel down on the bed and slowly pulling off my trunks to reveal my naked body. I admired myself in the mirror above the low-slung dresser. Those boys were in good shape—hell, it probably took them almost no effort at all—but I’d been putting in the work.
Something had happened over the last 9 months, reinvigorating my interest in my body. If I were honest, it was everything that had happened with Toby in the few weeks before. That experience, still kept at bay in the recesses of my memory, had lit a fire inside me. For the first time in decades, I felt worthy of something—desire. And so I began treating myself differently. I began working out more intentionally, and the results were obvious. The work showed. I’d never be as lean as they were—those days were done—but I’d been keeping up, in my way.
I made my way into the bathroom, reaching for a fresh towel in the cabinet under the sink, when something out the window caught my eye. I peered down at the outdoor shower, on full view from my second-story perch, to see Will and Greg within its walls.
I was surprised to see them in there together—I guess the competition for first had ended in a draw—each hardly self-conscious in their nakedness. I would never have been so comfortable with another guy in such close quarters, taking turns sharing the stream that rained down upon them. It was entrancing, the way the rivulets ran along the small of Greg’s back and down between the mound of that thick ass. And then Will, blond hair slicked backwards, his abs tight and clenched to reveal a healthy-sized cock hanging low between his legs.
I’d always wondered what Greg’s dick was like. He certainly talked like a kid who was packing, deferential to me but always with a kind of cockiness of a young man who got what he wanted.
And here it was, plain evidence that he had the goods to back it up.
He was packing.
And so was Will.
They exchanged a few words, grinning, voices inaudible through the closed window. I couldn’t look away. And then I noticed a stirring—a swelling—as their dicks rose out in front of them, eyes locked and mouths silent.
No, I thought to myself. It couldn’t be.
I watched Will sizing Greg up, far closer than I was, eyes darting between his friend’s face and the arousal that was on full display. The intensity between them was electric, undeniable, even from 50 feet away.
Until Will did the unthinkable. His eyes refusing to leave his friend, he lowered himself down onto his knees and positioned himself right in front of that monstrous cock, its head just inches from his face.
Will grinned, his blonde hair wet and slicked back, lips parting. And then he moved closer, shifting to meet Greg’s rising piece, opening to take the entire thing in his mouth.
Greg raised his head backwards at that first sensation, the water rushing over his face and down his chest as Will swallowed him until halfway in, my angle providing the perfect view.
I stood, unable to move, transfixed. I’d always wondered about Nate—his desires, the way he seemed to be hiding something. That last weekend with Kevin seemed to confirm it. But I’d never considered his friends. It always felt wrong.
Wrong in a way that transgressed everything I believed about the role I was to play in their lives.
And so I stood, stunned at the image of two of his best friends together, that familiar pull between my legs as my own cock began rising to attention, inspired by what I was seeing.
Greg lowered his head back down, his eyes fully focused on Will, the way his friend took him slowly in and out of his mouth, his own dick now fully at attention between his legs.
Will raised a hand and started massaging all along Greg’s shaft, working in unison with his mouth, the other placed firmly on his own cock, jerking it, giving it a slight release.
It was the first time I’d allowed myself to notice how much Will looked like Toby. That was an episode that I’d pushed to the back of my mind, a fever dream that had awakened something in me that had been dormant for years, if ever fully realized.
That blond hair. That slim, tight body. Those full lips. But whereas Toby had been more tentative, awkward, Will embodied a confidence even so many feet away, a command that Toby had lacked.
That very confidence was reaffirmed as he rose from the ground and walked towards the bench along the far side of the shower, placing each knee along its flat surface. He lowered his head and pushed himself backward, revealing his ass fully to Greg, motionless under the gushing shower head, cock still pointing straight in his direction.
The cheeks of Will’s ass spread apart to reveal his hole—tight, hairless and pristine. I stared at it, at him, the unabashed way he put himself on display, the kind of presentation that seemed antithetical to manhood and yet went straight to my dick. Greg ambled his way towards over, his olive-toned complexion deep and burnished in contrast to Will’s milky pale, lowering himself beneath his buddy and placing his mouth directly on that puckering slit.
Self-conscious about my own cock, now standing at full attention, I glanced around the rest of the yard, making sure no one could see me. But the boys were too distracted, and Steve was nowhere to be found. So I did the very thing my cock demanded—I placed one hand on it, lightly running my hand along its underside, gripping it more tightly just below the head and feeling an initial, sweet relief.
It was followed by guilt—watching this, enjoying this—but my desire overrode any sense of propriety. It was too much to ignore, too beautiful to turn away from.
I cast my eyes back to the stall, watching as Greg used his hands to press Will’s ass further apart, burying his face deeper inside, Will gripping the towel hooks on either side of him for purchase.
He bucked himself backwards in slow rhythmic motions, squarely into Greg, back arching just so to highlight the sinews of his lats and the small of his waist, riding this friend’s face with gusto. And Greg met it, feverishly licking Will’s hole as if desperate, and his wide palms dwarfing Will’s cheeks, pressing him open ever more fully.
And then Greg stood up, cock grazing just along Will’s parted cheeks, reaching for a container of body wash that sat just at his knees.
He squirted a bit into his palm and then lowered it down to his dick, running slicking the whole thing, and then arranged himself even closer, Will’s head turning just so in expectation. Squeezing the mounds of his own massive ass together in exertion, Greg pressed inside, the beginnings of his cock slowly entering his friend’s eager hole.
I held my dick tighter, closer, watching Will’s face as it turned, that first sensation of being entered registering across it. I thought back to how it had felt when Toby had been inside of me—the intensity, the faintest traces of pain, and then the inevitable release.
Will closed his eyes, his expression leading me to wonder if he was experiencing those very feelings, Greg’s hips moving ever closer until his cock was fully inside, Will’s lips curling.
And then Greg bore into him, first in small, soft thrusts, his cock barely leaving Will’s hungry ass. Soon, his pace quickened, dick visibly leaving Will’s insides before entering again, his efforts growing into more assertive pounds, the cheeks of Will’s ass quivering, shaking each time the face of Greg’s thighs slapped against them.
Will lowered a hand between his legs, taking his cock within his fist and jerking himself in time, meeting Greg’s even, consistent motions.
My cock tightened, too, as I jerked myself harder, faster, keeping time with both of them, as if I was somehow in full alignment from up above, my breath quickening as my own orgasm built.
Watching these boys, it was the most shocking, beautiful thing I could imagine—the way they had so effortlessly and comfortably found each other, their bodies merging from two into one.
What would it have been like, I wondered, to have experienced this so young?
But then I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye—Steve, making his way out the back door onto the deck.
I recoiled, a wash of fear running over me that they might be found out, that I might be seen. But instead, he merely took a seat, reclining on the lounger and leaning back with a beer in his hand, staring away from the house towards the mountains, blissfully unaware of the scene concealed just 50 feet away.
He clearly couldn’t hear them, the rush of water from the shower drowning ot out any of their fervor, and my eyes returned to the scene that had inspired such deep desire in me, my cock leaking onto the floor of the bathroom, my observant body mercifully concealed by my angle just behind the curtain.
Greg’s thrusts slowed, his body still, as Will took on all the work, using his full force to ride his friend’s cock all on his own, fucking himself with remarkable aplomb, still using the wall before him for leverage. He placed his hands behind the back of his head, focusing solely on his hips, pressing his elbows against the panels of wood, his movements building to a crescendo.
But just when I expected them to bust, their bodies collapsing into one another in release, Will pulled himself off of Greg, turning around to sit directly in front of him on the bench, his friend’s cock just in front of his face. Will stared up at him, Greg’s hand working furiously, baiting him, inviting him.
And then Greg’s body began to shake, ream after ream of cum hitting Will squarely in the face, the rest showering the remainder of his smooth, twink chest, and the hand placed firmly around his own cock.
I watched, breathless, overcome by the sights of Will—one of Nate’s best friends—covered in come, face smeared, chest painted, his tongue finding its way around his chin to lick it all up, Greg’s bronzed figure still lumbering above him.
And then Greg lowered himself down, his massive body prostrate before Will’s slight figure, placing his mouth on his tight, wanting cock and starting to suck him off with small thrusts. Will’s lips parted, breath quickening, until Greg pulled away, letting out a similar burst, load hitting him first at the nipples and down along the ridges of his six pack, letting go of all he had.
And then my body did the same, unable to hold back any longer, the vision of these two young men—both of whom I’d known since childhood—suddenly grown up, blowing their loads together. My body contracted, chest heaving, pecs tightening, cock convulsing as I released a full load onto the window before me, splashing the glass, streaks running down, my eyes closing at the intensity until I was fully spent.
It was the first load I’d let out in weeks, my body having been so worked out, run so ragged, that I hadn’t even realized how badly I’d needed a release.
I finally came back down to earth, resuming my gaze out the window, watching as Will, too, opened his eyes and gazed up at his friend, his body fully covered in cum, the rewards of their efforts fully his.
Greg sidled back, shaking his dick in front of him as it slowly receded down between his meaty thighs, a wide grin on his face. Playfully, he gave his friend a light slap, teasing him for his efforts.
And then, to my great surprise, Will looked up, past Greg, and towards the second floor of the cabin.
To me.
I stood there, naked, dick still in my hand, glass still slashed with come, receiving his stare.
I thought about trying to jump back, to hide, but it was too late. I was caught. And so I remained, frozen.
Fuck, I thought to myself.
And just when I was about to be flooded with embarrassment, I saw the slightest grin pass across his face. It was unmistakeable. Devlish actually.
And then, so subtle I could have sworn I imagined it, came something else.
A nod.
And so I did the only thing I could think of.
I nodded back.
And then just as quickly, he turned away, looking over at Greg, already back under the shower’s stream, rinsing off. He joined him, their bodies meeting, Will learning into Greg as their mouths met, the two of them relaxing into a deep kiss.
It lasted for only a few seconds, the intimacy of it somehow so much more awkward, honest, than the way they’d just so expertly pleasured each other in even more sexual ways.
But there was a tenderness in it, a warmth. And just as quickly as it had begun, the moment lapsed; they pulled away from each other, returning to the shower head to rinse off yet again, washing away the moment as if it had never happened.
I pulled away, shaken, my desire giving way to a greater grounding in reality, leaving the window and turning on my own shower to rinse off.
I stepped in, letting the water rush down around me.
What the fuck had just happened?
I’d just watched two of my son’s best friends fuck, and it had inspired in me something that I’d been trying to push away for the last few weeks, for the last 40 years.
This hunger I had for other men. For these boys. The very young people I wasn’t supposed to want, but to parent.
I was filled with a mix of revulsion and pure desire, one seemingly only to feed the other.
And then, suddenly, a wash of anxiety rolled over me. If this were happening all under my roof, what else had been going on? And what else might take place?
I thought of Will’s smile, his nod, as if he wasn’t remotely surprised. As if, somehow, he’d known I’d been watching the whole time.
Well, I thought to myself, at least Steve will keep things from going off the rails.
They’d tried hard enough to conceal this moment from him, so maybe we’d be safe from things boiling over. Maybe I’d be safe from my own feelings boiling over.
So I made a vow.
As far as I was concerned, I hadn’t seen a thing.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Substack.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
