Dan

When we heard from Dad that our baby brother had been raped, Pete flew into a ranting rage. We both realize that we're kind of a couple of county boys. Going into San Jose or even the city has never held much attraction for either of us. I wouldn't have had the least idea of how to go about getting the information from the police on the perps as Rich calls the assholes that did this atrocity to Frank, but Pete has a buddy from our high school days that is now a CHP officer. I know that he has coffee with him every week or so over a Betty's Café.

As I look at all that happened to the perps, I find it curious that twice in the week after we heard about Frank, Pete had coffee with his CHP buddy twice. We've always kept a casual contact with our cousins on both sides of our family. Some of our relatives on Mom's side reside in Las Vegas. Pete and I have been to Vegas a couple of times, just to get away. We stayed both time with our cousins. These guys are in the casino business and kind of look and act like TV mobsters. You know the dark suits and slicked back hair thing, but still they are part of our family.

In going over our monthly bills I noticed two calls to our cousins. Pete never mentioned anything about having talked to them. I casually asked him over dinner one evening if he was planning a trip over to see them.

"No, why do you ask?" was his reply.

"I just noticed a couple of calls to Al and Vinnie on last month's phone bill."

"Oh, that. I just called to say hello."

I looked askance at him.

"Look, just forget about it, okay?"

I shrugged, picked up my empty plate and headed to the sink. I glanced at him as I opened the dishwasher to put the plate and utensils in it. His expression was a bit apprehensive, but he didn't say anything more. That night in bed he was very loving and attentive. After he'd gone to sleep, I lay snuggled in his arms thinking about my suspicions and decided that I was happy that the perps had met their fate, whoever was responsible for it.

John

Ed fed us a sumptuous dinner of roast pork, a cornbread stuffing redolent with chopped apples, sage and thyme, oven roasted vegetables flavored with virgin olive oil and garlic, and a simple green salad in a light lemon dressing. After dinner, he served coffee with bowls of rich bread pudding filled with plump currants and covered with thick heavy cream, sprinkled with cinnamon. No wonder Dee had a weight problem. I wondered how Ed stayed so thin. Surely he tastes his delicious food as he cooks it.

It was nearly eleven when Farr yawned. Ed took that as his cue to gather the mugs and dessert plates and head for the kitchen. He'd previously made it very clear that we were not there to help him clean up, so we said goodnight and headed to our room. The moment the door closed, I could feel Farr beginning to get up tight. I suggested a shower before we hit the sack. He seemed to relax a little. I figured that if I let him undress himself and then join me under the water, he'd not get so wound up. He stood and stared at me as I undressed. When I was totally naked, he still hadn't moved. I looked at him with raised eyebrows as if to ask, "Aren't you going to undress?" He shook his head and said, "I'm waiting for you to undress me."

I squatted in front of him and kissed him on his nose. His smile was tenuous, but still tense.

"You're so beautiful. I love you, Babe," I whispered.

He nodded and stared into my eyes as I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. I removed his shirt without breaking eye contact. I could feel him quivering when I reached for his belt. I undid it and unbuttoned his jeans. Tears welled in his eyes, and I couldn't go any further. I gathered him to my chest and whispered assurances of my love to him.

He eventually pulled back and searched my face. "I think I need you to clean my body, too," he whispered. "Make me clean again, John. Please make me clean."

I swept him into my arms and placed him on the bed where I finished undressing him. His eyes never left me the whole time. When he lay naked before me, I whispered, "You are so beautiful, Farr. I love everything about you."

"Make me clean again, John," he begged.

So I did. Like a mother cat, I licked every inch of Farr's body. The whole time he watched, his tears flowed. Starting with his right hand I cleaned his fingers and thumb, his palm and the back of his hand. I carefully licked the nearly healed abrasions on his wrist, and up his forearm and upper arm - then the same with his left. The strong scent and taste of his armpits had me hard again.

I licked every inch of the front of his torso. When I reached his genitals, I bypassed them and cleaned his left leg and foot with my tongue, and then his right foot and leg back up to his groin. Then I thoroughly licked his scrotum, his shaft and all his pubic area. Normally he'd have been begging me to fuck him at this point, and even though I was rampantly hard and oozing precum, he didn't even plump.

Once I'd finished with his front side, I flipped him over. He buried his face in the pillow and clung to it as I proceeded from his shoulders and inched my way down to his buttocks, which I carefully laved. That left only his most private/most hidden parts.

I sat back and watched him shaking - quivering like an Aspen in a stiff breeze. "Turn over, Farr. I want you to watch. I want you to see that you are clean again. I want you to know that you are mine, and that I love you without reservation."

He rolled over clutching the pillow to his chest. I gently took it and tucked it under his head and kissed him, then sat back and looked into his large luminous blue eyes. He had an almost frightened look on his face.

"It's okay, Babe, in a moment you'll be clean and free of it all."

His nod was nearly imperceptible. I lifted his legs and pushed them towards his chest, exposing his vulnerability. His quivering ceased; he was holding his breath as I lowered my head and touched his perineum with my tongue. I laved the inside of each thigh and every inch behind his balls. He sucked in, and tightened his sphincter as I neared it. I ignored it, and licked over it and on up to the top of his crack, carefully covering every millimeter of the insides of his cheeks. Again, I licked over his hole, and it stayed tight. I drew circles around it, teased it, and poked at the opening with my tongue. He was moaning and sounding like he was in dire pain. I ignored it, and continued my onslaught on his sphincter. As it began to relax and flex, I drove my tongue as deeply as possible into him, over and over until he was begging me to fuck him.

I sat back and grinned at my beloved little man. His rod was steel, oozing liquid pearls.

"You're clean, Farr. You're free of it all."

He smiled tenuously. He looked like he could still break. "Please, John, do it. Fill me with your seed. Let it wash me clean inside."

Damn. He was asking me to fuck him without a condom. We'd both been tested, but we'd never done that. Robertson had raped him without protection, and even though he hadn't ejaculated, he had ripped Farr's rectum. There was a slim chance Farr had been infected. God, I wish the man was still alive, so I could beat him to death, then draw and quarter him and put his head on a pike outside the bar.

Those thoughts were negated by the pleading expression on my little man's face, leaving nothing in my mind except the idea of making him whole again. I crawled into position, and he handed me a tube of KY… the little sneak; I had no idea where it came from.

He pulled his knees to his chest exposing his little pink hole. I lubed him well as he watched me. I began to feel everything was going to be okay, until I touched the tip of my rod to his opening. It clinched. I glanced up at him and he had his eyes squinched so tightly that his forehead wrinkled.

When I sat back, he opened them and looked at me, then asked, "Why aren't you doing it?"

"Farr, Babe, you're going to have to relax. I'm not about to try for a forced entry. If you really don't want it, we'll wait. There's no hurry."

Tears pooled in his eyes. "I need it, John. You have to do it."

"Okay, then let's do it like the first time. You're going to ride me. That way you have the control. You can do it at your own pace."

He stared up at me, his expression open and vulnerable. "I love you, John," he whispered.

I leaned over him and sought his lips. He hungrily wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me back. When he let go, he said, "Okay, let's do it."

I'd mostly lost my hardon. The kiss brought it back a bit, but not enough, but when I lay on my back and Farr straddled me and started rubbing up and down the length of me; I got instantly hard. I caressed his muscular little body and pinched his little nubs, making him gasp.

"Hold it up," he commanded as he rose into a crouch over me. I grasped my cock and pointed it at his sphincter, and he slowly lowered himself onto it. I watched the length disappear up his sweet little butt. I glanced at his face to see tears streaking down his face. He moaned and groaned staring towards the ceiling while stirring his insides with my hard shaft. Sniffling and wiping his face, he looked down at me. His lips began to turn up in a satisfied smile as he rocked his lithe little body.

"Turn us over and fuck me, John," he whispered.

I sat up, pulled him to my chest, then swung my legs to the side of the bed and stood up with Farr still impaled. He wrapped his legs around me, and I climbed back onto the bed, where I laid him on his back. He drew his legs up against his chest, and I watched him as I carefully pushed all the way into him. His tears had stopped.

"Oh, yeah, John, I am totally yours. Fuck me into next week" he panted.

With his constant urging, I started pounding his ass. In my mind, I was pushing any remnant of Robertson out of him. I was going to gush my semen into his gut and wash him clean. Farr must have been thinking the same thing. We both came - hard - at the same time; and when he got his breath back to normal, he scooted off the bed and trotted into the bathroom.

I listened to him eliminating my deposit, and then the water running in the sink. A couple minutes later, he crawled back on the bed with a warm wet cloth and cleaned me up. He tossed the cloth toward the bathroom door and crawled on top of me, and with a lascivious grin said, "Now, make love to me, John."

Farr seemed okay when we returned to our old work schedules. He convinced his dad that he didn't need to see the psychiatrist again. I had my doubts, but kept them to myself. Our sex life seemed to be unaffected by the rape. We had sex every night, and again when we woke in the morning. Farr fucked me almost as often as I fucked him. Life seemed really good.

We'd been back four days when I stopped into his shop about ten that Thursday morning. Just as I opened the door, there was a loud crash and a cursing roar of anger from Farr's workroom. I rushed around the counter and through the door to find Farr bent over with his hands on his knees as he huffed and puffed like he'd just run a mile uphill. Across the room lay the crumpled remains of the latest French chandelier he'd been reworking. I dropped down in front of him, not touching him yet. I'd come to appreciate the fact that he was a terror if provoked.

"Farr, are you okay?" I asked.

At first he ignored my presence, then slowly he raised his head and looked at me. "Help me… I'm losing it… help me, John."

I pulled him to me and held him snugly. "What do you need me to do, Farr?"

He let out a big sigh. "Call Dad and tell him I was wrong. I obviously need help." He pulled away from me and walked over to the crumpled fixture. "Shit. That's three thousand dollars down the drain."

I picked it up and examined it. "Since it's bronze, I think that I can probably straighten this to where nobody, but you and me, would ever know it had been bent," I told him.

He looked at it doubtfully, shrugged, then turned back to his work bench where he slumped on his stool, crossed his arms and laid his forehead on them. I laid the fixture on the floor and went over to him. Caressing his back, I asked, "Can you tell me what caused this fit of rage?" He shrugged without lifting his head. "I caught my finger in it. It hurt."

I pulled out my cell phone and called Dad. When he answered, I asked without any preliminaries, "Hey, Dad. Can you get an appointment with the shrink for Farr? He needs to work through some problems."

Pat, of course, wanted to know what had happened.

"Let's get together for dinner and we'll talk about it then."

"Sure, Son, that would be fine. Let me know later when and where. In the meantime, take care of our little man."

I wondered if Pat knew just how warm and loved it made me - a fully mature man - feel when he called me 'Son'. I'm sure he knows I like calling him 'Dad'.

Farr

We met Dad and Rich for dinner at the Shangri La and sat in their tiered open air dining patio out back. It was a chilly evening, but with the space heaters flaring over head, it wasn't uncomfortable; and it was fairly private since there were only two other couples out there.

As soon as we'd ordered and our drinks had been served, Dad wanted to know what was going on with me.

I placed my hand over John's, messaging him that I wanted to tell what happened.

I glanced at each of the three big men, then settled my eyes on my father. "I suppose I've always had a bit of a temper, but I've also always been able to control it, what with all the training I've had in Tae Quan Do and the other martial arts. Today wasn't the first time that I've recently just flown off the handle, but it was the most expensive one. I caught my finger in a French chandelier and the pain just... I had no control. I threw the damned thing across the room. It seems like every time I lose my temper like that, I go into a depression afterwards. It makes me feel like shit."

Dad nodded, but it was Rich that spoke. "It sounds like you're ready to talk to Dr. Samuelson."

I looked at John; his concern always gets to me. "Yes. I can't go on like this. I've got to regain control of my emotions."

"You want me to call him for you. I can probably get you an appointment by Wednesday, where it would most likely be a couple of weeks if you call."

"You're a good friend, Rich."

Dad grasped Rich's forearm and squeezed it. That was the first time he'd shown any PDA in front of us. I couldn't resist, I grinned at Dad and said, "You really found yourself a good man, Dad. I'm happy for both of you."

Dad actually blushed. He glanced at Rich, the love he felt for him evident on his face. Then he turned and smiled at me as he cupped the back of my head with a caress. "You don't know how much I appreciate you saying that, Son."

Later, after we got home, I opened the computer and did a search on anger management. An hour or so later , I heard John call out, "Farr, I'm getting lonesome. Come on to bed." I saved what I was reading and shut down.

When I walked into the bedroom and saw John lying there, I shed my clothes and crawled on the bed. He held his arms out, and I lay on top of him - relishing his naked touch. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. I seemed to be living for the moments when he was holding me. I would never stop wanting to be held in his arms like this. And even though we were both rampantly hard, it wasn't about the sex... it was his touch... the feel of him... the scent of him...just being with him. I felt safe and secure in his arms.

I woke up before dawn in a position I hadn't been in before. The covers were up around John's neck and I was way down under them. John was on his side turned away from me and I was snuggled against his backside, my hardness lying between his cheeks. My arm was draped over him - I could feel the hair on his belly under my hand. I ran my fingers though it as I ever so slightly humped his butt. John pushed back, and I wondered if he was doing this in his sleep. Then I felt his hand cover mine as he grasped my wrist and rolled onto his stomach pulling me on top of him.

"Fuck me, Babe," he murmured. "Stick that big thing up my butt and do me good."

I've admired John's muscular back and butt from day one. I've had my hands all over his back and butt washing him in the shower, but I'd never even dreamed of this... doing it from behind. Again, it's the size thing, and even though I was feeling so small lying on his broad back, it was an absolute turn on just thinking about it.

John had spread his legs, so I knelt between them and threw the covers back. In the half light, I ran my hands over his big beautiful buns. They aren't hairy like mine. I look like a satyr from behind. John just had a fine light coating of hair that I could feel but could hardly see, even in daylight.

A thought hit me. These big beautiful globes are mine to do with as I please. It made me throb. I lay my chest against them and rubbed.

"What are you doing?" John asked twisting around to look.

"Lie still," I commanded. "I'm making love to your ass."

John lay back down mumbling, "It does feel good."

I slid down and started kissing and licking those big globes, and soon I had my face buried between them as John raised his rear and spread his cheeks with his hands. I lost myself in what I was doing. John was making unintelligible sounds with an "Oh, God" thrown in every so often. And then he started chanting, "Fuck me, fuck me, Farr, fuck me."

I sat back panting. John drew his knees up under his body, raising his big ass into the air (I say 'big ass', but his butt is in proportion with the rest of his big muscular body. It's only big when compared to me and my butt). I had to stand with my legs spread out to align myself with his hole. Between my saliva and precum, we were both wet enough that I just pushed in to the hilt. At his urging, I started slamming into him. I discovered that in this position, I had to rise up and point my shaft down to hit his prostate. When I did that, John started groaning and wantonly carrying on, really getting into being fucked, yelling, "Fuck me harder, Oh, God, Farr that feels so good. Why haven't we done this before?"

The emotions this position engendered were overwhelming. It was like I had power that I'd never felt before. I was fucking ass, and I thanked God that I had a cock big enough to please my man.

My orgasm was the biggest and hardest that I'd yet experienced. John had come without either of us touching his cock. I collapsed onto his back, and we just lay there with me draped over his butt, which was still sticking up in the air.

Eventually he stretched his legs out, my shriveled cock pulled out of him, and I rolled off to the side. He turned over and pulled me to his chest. I clung to him, his massive arms wrapped around me.

"We gotta do that again… and often," he murmured in my ear. We were silent for a while as we luxuriated in the afterglow, and then he said, "You're my man, Farr. I wonder if you realize just how much I love you."

I thought about us... about all the events that had brought us to this point, and I knew how much John loved me. And God knows that I love him with all my being. I answered, "Probably about as much as I love you, John."

As I look back on that morning, I think that was the most healing moment I'd had since being raped. I lay there secure and loved in John's arms, and knew that I was going to be okay.

John

There was a fleeting moment that I felt like a slut when I drew my knees up under me and stuck my butt up for Farr. Then I realized that... hey, I was doing this for my little man. He had as much right to my ass as I had to his, and God knows I've taken his with as much gusto and force as he did mine.

It was good to see the change in his attitude after that morning. Even at the best of moments, there had been a haunted look to his countenance. It was gone that morning when we sat down to breakfast. Farr was back to his old jaunty self. I prayed that he could and would stay this way.

Around ten, when the crew went on a coffee break, I slipped away from them and called Pat and told him what had transpired. It's a bit strange to think about in retrospect, but I had no inhibitions in telling him about our morning. Certainly I didn't tell him any details other than to say that Farr had taken me from behind which he'd never done before.

Dad...Pat (I thought of him interchangeably both ways) chuckled, "John, I never thought there would come a day that I would be discussing my son's sex life with his partner."

I stuttered for a bit, then pointed out that although it was a first with me, too; what was important was that Farr had really come out of his funk. Still chuckling, he thanked me for telling him.

Rich called me later and emphasized that it was important that Farr still see the psychiatrist because it would help reinforce his attitudes... help stabilize him. He started chuckling, and then right out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

It took him a moment to calm down before he said, "I'm sorry, John. I guess you two have succeeded in perverting my sense of humor. I was visualizing Farr and you...uh."

"Fucking, Rich, it's called fucking." I started chuckling, and then really laughed along with him.

"Kinda like a great Dane and a Chihuahua," Rich gasped. "Oh, God, the two of you are going to be the death of me yet. Pat's even laughing about his son, the Chihuahua."

Later, driving home, eager to be with my little man, it came to me that all things considered - size really didn't matter.

The End