In case you missed it, yesterday was the 3rd month anniversary of Watching Brad. I posted an announcement about it:
http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showpost.php?p=1634267&postcount=749
In 92 days, I have written and posted 81 chapters of this story which was originally supposed to be only a dozen or so chapters long. A special and heartfelt 'thank you' goes out to all you special people who have encouraged me with your kind and generous words to make it the story it has become. It is you who keep this story alive, and it is for you that I will continue to write it.
From the deepest wells of my heart, I thank you all.
Take care, eh?
Neil
WATCHING BRAD
Part 82
Even if I had wanted to stop my orgasm, I couldn't have done so. It had already begun. With the phone pressed to my ear as I listened to Brad, my eyes were locked on my bedroom doorway where Barry stood as he watched my semen spraying all over the place.
I don't think Barry even knew I could see him. He stood there with his left hand on the doorknob, his right hand encircling his cock and jerking it with only one goal in mind. I could see his chest heaving under his shirt and I knew that he, too, was close to his own climax.
I couldn't see his balls. They were still hidden in his underwear. But his cock was everything I had imagined it to be. I'd seen it in his swimsuit, as solid as it is now, but, seeing it uncovered like this, I noticed that it was truly beautiful. I could easily see myself giving Barry a blowjob and enjoying every moment of it.
His cock was longer and thicker than mine, but was almost exactly the same shape. It looked big enough on his body. It would have been enormous on mine.
My orgasm finally slowed and my hand stopped stroking myself, and then Barry's eye found mine. A loud, animalistic moan came from his throat, much like the one I'd heard a few weeks earlier as I waited in the den. There was a strange look of total sex in his face. With his eyes locked on mine, Barry's face creased in excitement. And then he was cumming. Brad was a powerful and abundant cummer, and I had seen the results of Barry's orgasm on the guestroom wall, but I was unprepared for the exhibition I was about to witness.
Not only was Barry a powerful and abundant cummer, he was also fast. When either myself or Brad cum, there is always a pause between spurts, as if the pump must be loaded and primed between each contraction, getting ready for the next volley.
Not so for Barry. His shots were rapid with very little interval between each. At least, that's how it was that time I watched him. Of course, he was as loud as he had been that night in the guestroom and his left hand clamped itself over his mouth, muffling his groans and moans. Still even Brad could hear it and, apparently, so did Nathan. He appeared behind Barry, grabbed him by the arm, and spun him around. Barry's orgasm continued, spraying his semen onto the carpet, the door and, ultimately, onto Nathan's jeans.
I could see Nathan looking down briefly at his lover's erupting cock, then back up into Barry's face. "You stupid son of a bitch!" I expected him to slap Barry across the face, but he didn't. Instead, he turned and ran back down the hallway. I expected to hear the front door slamming, but I didn't. Barry continued his orgasm right there in front of my daughter's empty bedroom.
"Ted? What's going on there?" His breathing was still laboured following his orgasm.
"Shhh," I said softly. Brad fell silent, waiting.
Barry's orgasm finally ended and he turned sideways to me in the doorway, his cock still in his hand. He looked at me for a moment, then down to the floor where he saw all his semen in long strings spewed across the carpet and on the door. "Oh, God. What have I done?" he said softly. He looked up at me once again, still lying naked in my bed, still holding my cock in my hand. Then Barry turned and ran down the hall.
Nathan showed up again a few moments later with wet cloths, a spray tin of carpet cleaner, and a roll of paper towels in his hands. I couldn't hide the semen all over my chest, so I placed my palm over my crotch instead.
"I'm sorry, Ted," Nathan said as he began cleaning up the mess. He was almost in tears. "I didn't think he'd do this. We'll get out of here as soon as I finish cleaning this up."
I took the phone from my ear and held it against the mattress. "No, Nathan. I think we need to talk about this. Don't worry about that. Just go see to Barry."
Nathan ignored me and continued his scrubbing vigorously. "Stupid son of a bitch," he mumbled aloud. "The only friends I have and he fucks us up big time!" He sniffled a few times as he wiped up Barry's semen from the carpet. "Fuck, Barry. I
hate you for this! We were going to talk, remember? You stupid son of a bitch!"
I sat up, grabbed my robe and pulled it over my arms. I snatched a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table and quickly wiped up the semen from my chest and stomach, then stood up to close and tie my robe.
So, Nathan had seen this coming as well.
"Stupid son of a bitch," he mumbled yet again.
"Nathan," I said quietly. No response. "Nathan." I called out louder. "Nathan!" I was loud and short with him, but it got his attention. He looked up at me and stopped scrubbing. "Did you hear me? I think you should stay so we can talk about this."
"You're not mad at him?"
"No," I said. "I'm not mad. I was embarrassed at being caught, but I'm not mad at Barry. Promise you'll stay and talk?"
Nathan thought about that for a long moment, then nodded. "We'll stay. I'll make sure he does."
I grabbed up the phone. "Be right with you, Brad." To Nathan, I said, "We won't be much longer here. We're almost out of time on his card. Could you leave that for now, please?"
Nathan nodded again and left the materials on the floor. He got to his feet and left my room, closing the door completely behind him.
I sat down on the bed and explained to Brad what had just happened
"Gee-sus, Murphy," was all he said.
"It was bound to happen sooner or later," I said. "I didn't expect it to be quite this soon, though."
"And Nathan's not mad at him?"
"No, and I'm pretty sure I know why."
* * * * *
What had happened was important, but Brad was more important than even that. It would wait.
Brad and I finished up the time on his card. We'd talked after ‘the incident', mostly about how much we missed each other and how much we loved each other. Brad was suitably relieved now and probably wouldn't need any more release until he came home. With John and Bernice taking the kids for the rest of that weekend, Brad and I would have Saturday night and most of Sunday together. We were both looking forward to that. And we didn't expect to see much of the house beyond our bedroom door.
Brad had also taken a moment to explain Paul's masturbating in the room. It was actually Brad who had made the decision and not a mutual decision by both of them as he'd said earlier. Paul had left Brad standing outside the bathroom door for almost an hour first thing in the morning while he took his time jacking off in the shower. He finally came out when Brad threatened to piss on Paul's bed if he didn't get his ass out of the bathroom.
Brad had taken his much-needed piss, then went back to the room before taking his shower. Paul was continuing his masturbation on his bed and stopped to pull a blanket over him. "Look, Paul," Brad had said, "we're going to be stuck here together for two weeks. I don't care if you whack off all day long in your own bed if you want, but keep it out of the bathroom, okay?"
By the time Brad had finished his shower, he'd calmed down enough for the pair to discuss it rationally and to come to some sort of agreement. Paul had admitted to masturbating three or four times a day, but Brad wasn't willing to spend two weeks pissing in a pop bottle while Paul lived in the bathroom. Nor was Brad willing to make himself scarce every night. Paul could do whatever he wanted, but Brad wasn't going to make allowances for him, nor would he be inconvenienced. So, as Brad had sat on the side of his bed working on his laptop, his back to Paul, his new had continued his masturbation. Brad went about his business as if nothing was going on.
Following that first night, Paul spent most of the evenings in bed, watching porn on PPV and whacking himself silly while Brad sat up in his bed nearby working on his studies or talking on the telephone to me.
I asked Brad about Paul's endowments. He laughed. "Now I know what people mean when they say ‘pencil dick'." He laughed even harder when he added, "And Paul's has been in the pencil sharpener a few too many times!"
"That's just mean, Brad," I said. "But funny. I wonder what he thinks about yours?"
"He's never seen it hard, but he saw it soft once when I was changing and he just moaned. I kind of felt sorry for him, really. He's a nice guy."
All too soon, Brad got notice of his time running out. We said our ‘goodbyes' and ‘goodnights' and hung up knowing that, in one week's time, we would be saying them face to face.
* * * * *
I went looking for Barry and Nathan. I thought they had gone home until I found their shoes in the entryway. I knew they must be downstairs in the guestroom. I peeked in on the boys, took a moment to give them a small peck on their cheeks, then went downstairs to find my friends.
The guestroom door was closed and I knocked gently on it. Nathan opened it. "He won't talk," he said quietly. "He's too angry and ashamed of himself."
"Then he'll listen," I told him.
"I'll wait out. . ."
"No, Nathan. You need to hear this, too."
He stepped back into the room and I walked past him to the side of the bed. Barry was lying belly-down, his face buried in the pillows.
"Come on, Barry," I said. "Sit up. We need to talk."
He turned his face away from me, but said nothing.
"Look, as admirable as your ass is, it's not the part of you I want to be looking at when I talk to you. Now, come on. Sit up."
"So what? Even if I'm sitting up, you'll still be talking to an ass!"
"We need to talk, Barry." I sat on the side of the bed and put my hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and turned his face into the pillow again.
"Oh, God, Ted! Don't touch me!"
I took my hand away again.
"Barry, please," I prodded. "We've opened the door to this. Don't try to slam it shut again. I'm not mad at you, but we need to talk about it. For all our sakes."
Still, he didn't move.
I plunged forward. "I think all four of us, Brad included, knew something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. Now that it has, we need to talk about it or we can all kiss this friendship ‘goodbye'. I don't want that to happen."
Barry turned his face toward me for the first time. He'd been crying. "How in hell can you be so cool about this, Ted?" he asked angrily. "How can you not hate my guts for what I just did?"
"Because I wanted it to happen as much as you did."
Barry rolled onto his elbow, twisting his body in order to keep his crotch flat on the bed. The expression on his face turned to surprise and curiosity. "Really?"
"Yes," I assured him. "Now, sit up so we can talk about it."
He glanced toward Nathan, who was standing in front of me, then back to my face again. "I can't sit up," he said shyly. "I've still got. . ."
"Big deal. So you have a hardon. You think I care? Damn it, Barry, that's why we need to talk!"
There was a long pause before Nathan said softly, "Please, Barry. They're the only friends I have here. Don't take them away from me."
Barry looked down at the blankets, thinking. At last, he sucked in a deep breath and nodded to himself. He rolled to his side and swung his legs around me, sitting on the side of the bed beside me. I purposefully kept my gaze on his face.
"That's better, thank you," I said. "Now, we're going to go upstairs, have a beer, and talk. I don't want to leave the boys alone up there. But first, you have a little mess to clean up in my bedroom and I need a quick shower."
Barry looked into my eyes for quite a while. "How can you not hate me, Ted."
"Because I like you too much to hate you."
I patted Barry's thigh twice, stood up, and led the way out of the guestroom.
* * * * *
By the time I finished my shower, all the cum had been cleaned up and washed off the door and walls. Barry had done it with Nathan's supervision. Both Nathan and Barry had changed clothes and the clothes were in the washing machine. They were sitting on the sofa with three opened beers sitting on the coffee table. Barry was sitting closest to the spot where I usually sit. I wasn't particularly surprised.
"I'm washing our clothes," Nathan said. "I hope you don't mine."
"Not at all," I replied. I was carrying our private photo album under my arm. I sat down, took a healthy drink of beer, and sat back to begin our little chat.
"I'm going to talk for Brad here because he feels the same way I do," I began. "All four of us would be bullshitting each other if we denied the attractions we feel. I know how I feel about Barry, and I know how he feels about me. I also know how Brad feels about Nathan, and I know how Nathan feels about Brad. But I also know that neither Brad nor I would ever act on those attractions. That's all they are. I would love to hop into bed with Barry, but it doesn't mean I'm going to do it. It's a dream, and that's what it will always be."
The two remained silent. Barry picked up his beer from the table, took a little swig, and held it in his lap.
"I believe both of you guys feel the same way Brad and I do."
"I do," Nathan said.
"Me, too," Barry added after a short pause. He was still looking down at his beer bottle, his thumbnail peeling away the label at the corner. Barry looked at me. "I never would have done anything to you, Ted. I didn't even expect you to be doing anything except talking to Brad. But Nathan was making sandwiches. . ."
"Oh, damn!" Nathan shouted. "They're still in the kitchen!" He jumped up to retrieve them.
"Anyway, Nathan asked if I'd see if you wanted anything. Your door was open and you were. . . Well, I couldn't look away. I'm really sorry, Ted. I couldn't stop looking. You have to believe me."
"I do, Barry," I said as Nathan returned with the plate of sandwiches. "I couldn't look away, either. And that's the point I'm trying to make here. I think we have a unique friendship here. But we can't be so uptight that we're going to go into a panic each time we stumble across something. We can't be so uptight that we're afraid to do anything in case someone else sees us. We can't go on being afraid of being friends."
I leaned forward to look at Nathan, who was sitting forward on the sofa, his hand resting on Barry's left thigh. "I know why you weren't mad at Barry for what happened."
His look was puzzled.
"If it had been you who came to my door instead of Barry, what would you have done?"
"Backed away quietly, I suppose," Nathan said. "Given you your privacy."
"And what if it had been Brad on the bed instead of me?"
Nathan thought for a few moments and nodded. "You figured it out."
"And if I had walked in on you, Barry, I would have done the same thing. I would have looked. It's not much different than standing beside each other at the urinals taking a piss. It's natural to want to peek."
"But, damn it, Ted, that was your bedroom. I invaded you."
"And I left the door open. That was an invitation. I was just as guilty as you were."
"But still. . ."
"‘But still' nothing, Barry," I told him. "Would you have done anything to me other than masturbate?"
Barry sat up stiffly and said, "No! Of course not!"
"Don't answer so fast just because Nathan's here, Barry," I said seriously. "Think about it first. If we were alone, if Nathan wasn't even in your life, would you have done anything?"
For his part, Barry put some serious thought into it. His eyes turned down to the beer label which his thumbnail was still peeling away. He thought for a long time before he shook his head and said, "No."
"Why not?"
He looked at me again. "Because you love Brad and I love both of you. You're going to marry him. I'd never do anything to hurt either of you."
I patted his leg once more and smiled. "And neither would I. I would never allow anything to happen. I could never hurt Brad. That's why I'm not mad. No-one got hurt by it. Now," I said as I took my hand away from his leg, "do you still want to go home?"
"No."
"Good. Here," I said as I held out the photo album. Barry took it from my hands. "I'm going to check on the boys."
I went to the twins' room. Jeremy wasn't there. I went to the bathroom. Poor baby. He was sitting on the toilet, sound asleep. His pyjama bottoms were around his ankles and his head was leaned back against the toilet tank.
I slipped my hands under his arm and lifted him carefully. He'd finished going poop, but that was as far as he got. I wiped him and washed him up, flushed the toilet, then picked him up and pulled up his pyjamas. Jeremy's eyes cracked open.
"Hi, Daddy," he whispered sleepily.
"Hi, my Sonskyn," I whispered back, kissing him on the forehead. "Come on, let's go back to bed." He was asleep again by the time I got him there, but he immediately rolled into place against his brother and grasped his Teddy into his arm as I held it against his little chest.
I sat there for a time, watching them sleep. In sixteen days, they would be my sons. I couldn't wait for that to happen.
* * * * *
Nathan closed the album and handed it back to me when I sat back down on the sofa.
"Holy, shit," he said. "Barry told me about it, but I didn't believe him. I thought he was exaggerating so much."
"No more being embarrassed then?" I said. "We all know the effect we have on each other. As long as you don't wave it in front of the kids, I don't care. Agreed?"
"Yes," Nathan said.
Barry looked at me for a moment, then nodded his head.
"I'm not saying we should try to make it happen, but, if it does, it's not something to be ashamed of." I met Barry's eyes head on. "And it's not something to beat yourself up over. For what it's worth, Barry, I wasn't disappointed with what I saw."
A smile finally cracked Barry's face. "Neither was I," he said.
We sat there after that, chatting and munching sandwiches. Barry finished the laundry before I finally called an end to the night shortly after midnight. As Nathan took the remaining sandwiches into the kitchen to wrap them and put them into the refrigerator, I went about shutting down and locking up the house. When Barry and Nathan were downstairs and I saw that the den lights were turned off, replaced by the soft glow of the night lights, I turned off the last of the upstairs lights.
I checked on the boys one final time, but, as I stood by their bed, watching them sleep, I suddenly didn't want to sleep alone that night. I slipped off my robe and climbed into their bed. On cue, the moment my head hit the pillow, the boys were up and moving into place beside me. Once more, their Teddies were abandoned. They didn't sleep with them when they slept with me anymore.
I pulled the blankets over them, hugged them into my arms, and kissed their hair.
"I love you, my Sonskyns," I whispered softly. Justin smacked his lips several times, rubbed his cheek against my chest, then he slept.
I lay there for awhile, contemplating the results of this evening's chat with Barry and Nathan. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. Now I wasn't quite so certain Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do. All I could do, then, was to wait for the chips to fall and to hope that they didn't leave a mess no-one could clean up.
To Be Continued
Next update on Monday morning.
I know you were upset, but glad you calmed down. It was worth the wait. 
