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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

When You Come Back To Me Again - 3. On a Summer Sunday

Brad and Jack spend a hot night and morning with Gunnar. Eric and Justin make love beachside. Barney reveals the secret of who her grandparents are to Destiny, and she shares it with her mother. Destiny is about to reveal her own secret to her mother, as well.

“Do what?” Billy Jack asked, startled.

“Yeah.” Barney replied, and then proceeded to explain the whole situation.

“Whoa!” Billy Jack exclaimed after Barney had finished. “So, Jenny Faye Smith is Destiny Rose’s biological grandmother – and Jenny Faye's – rapist – is Destiny’s biological grandpa?”

“Yep, afraid so,” Barney replied simply.

“Damn,” Billy Jack replied. “And after all these years, Destiny’s mom, Josephine, has no idea that she was the product of that horrible attack on Jenny Faye?”

“Not a damn clue,” Barney replied. “I’m about the only one in town who ever knew the truth, besides of course Josephine’s adopted parents who raised her. Only reason I know the truth is that the last time I ever heard from Jenny Faye was that night she called me from Reno. She had just had her fuckin’ rapist’s baby – she couldn’t bear the thoughts of an abortion, she said – but she also couldn’t bear to think of raising the child.”

Barney paused, and then went on, “So, she got in touch with the Jenkinses – she knew them well because her mother had been their maid the whole time Jenny Faye was growing up – and they agreed to adopt the baby. They had very much wanted a child of their own, but Mrs. Jenkins was barren – as they called it back in the day – and they flew out to Reno and got her, brought her back here and raised her, and you obviously know the rest.”

“Well, I think you have to tell Destiny, and she has to tell her mother the truth, too,” Billy Jack said without hesitation. “They both deserve to know the truth.”

“Yeah, I know it,” Barney agreed. “What I’d like to know is where the hell Jenny Faye ever ended up. I know she said that after Reno she was hoping to make it on out to California, but I have no idea if she did or not.”

"Oh, by the way," Billy Jack replied, "I was just online before you got home and I saw that Rick's old friend Geraldine added me on Skype - she said she is finally getting into the whole computer thing." He chuckled then continued, "So anyway, she is going to talk to me on there sometime soon and she wants to viturally 'meet' you as well, she said you sounded really sweet on the phone when she called us. She really was one of Rick's dearest friends and I always liked her too."

"That's great," Barney replied, "It'd be nice to see her on Skype and get to know her a bit, and since you've been wanting to go back to San Jose and visit sometime, it'd be nice for you to get to reconnect with a familiar face while we are out there."

Barney had no idea at that moment just how familiar the face of "Geraldine" was going to be to him, too!

Meanwhile, at their house overlooking Pleasant View Lake, Eric Jamison and Justin Earheart were sitting out on their back deck, enjoying the view of starlight on the water, along with the dim light of a crescent moon, and the soft breeze that made the otherwise hot and muggy evening worth sitting out in for a while. The couple was seated next to one another on a swing at one end of the deck, gently swinging, Justin’s muscular arm wrapped around the shoulders of his cute, bookish cub Eric. They were both just wearing shorts, and the breeze felt good on their bare chests.

“You look tired,” Eric said, taking in his handsome, muscular cop husband’s features.

“Thanks, way to make a guy feel good,” Justin teased with a rue grin.

Eric play-punched Justin in one of his rock hard pecs, and shot back, “Just trying to show some concern, smartass.”

Justin leaned over and kissed Eric playfully on the top of the head then, and pulled him a little closer. The aroma of the Irish Spring soap in which Justin had showered at the locker room at work earlier in the evening at the end of his shift reached Eric’s nostrils, and was intoxicating. “It really was one hell of a shift,” Justin admitted then. “Fucking meth heads and heroin addicts are getting way too out of hand, even out here in Pleasant View.”

Eric shivered a little in spite of the hot night. He always worried about Justin having to deal with such redneck idiots, but he also knew that it was all a part of the job and that Justin wouldn’t have it any other way than to be a cop, and a good one.

“Quit worrying so much babe,” Justin said then. He soon pulled Eric to him, and they kissed, gently at first, and then with increasing heat and passion. They were soon rubbing each other’s hard cocks through their shorts as they continued kissing. Soon the shorts were off, and they were standing naked together, continuing to make out and pressing their hard cocks and bodies against one another as they embraced.

“Come on!” Justin said playfully. Without even waiting for Eric’s reply, he was down the steps and running bare assed naked over the grassy slope of their backyard toward the small sandy beach at the edge of the lake.

By the time Eric caught up with his husband, Justin was already standing waist deep in the cool water of the lake, looking incredibly hot there in the dim light. Eric laughingly ran out to him, and again they embraced. Justin pulled them both down into the water, kissing Eric as it went over their heads, and as they both sat up in the water, which was around their necks at this spot. Soon they were back at the edge of the beach, and Justin was on top of Eric as the cool water lapped on their bare asses and the sand pressed gently into Eric’s back. Eric gazed up into the dark haired, dimpled chinned face of his hot husband, and they kissed some more.

“Make love to me, baby,” Eric soon said huskily, raising his legs as the water continued lapping around his ass.

Justin grabbed each of Eric’s ankles in his strong hands, moved forward, and plunged his wet dick directly balls deep into Eric’s tight ass.

He began fucking Eric fast and hard, as the water and the breeze continued to caress them. They both wanted it fast and hard tonight, raw, hot, lovemaking.

“YES! YES!!!” Eric moaned, “Harder – UGH! – Baby! Fuck me harder!!!”

Justin pounded away without mercy, and within minutes his big balls were churning. “Ugh! UGH!! Fuck! I love you – UGH – Eric!!”

“I – UGH! Ah!! – Love you too, baby!” Eric groaned.

Soon they were both cumming, shot after shot of Justin’s hot load filling Eric’s ass as his own load spewed forth between them. Eric liked how it felt when his husband then collapsed on top of him there in the sand and the water. They kissed and caressed for a good while longer then, until finally Justin’s throbbing seven incher had softened and slipped from Eric’s ass, and they headed up the hill hand in hand to go shower, clean up, and get ready for bed.

Sometime around the time the sky was just getting that steel gray light of earliest dawn, Brad Carson awoke. He smiled as he looked across the big king sized bed in Gunnar’s room. Jack and Gunnar were both to his right, sleeping soundly. Gunnar was lying directly next to him, with Jack on the other side. One of them had tossed the covers back in the night, so now they were both naked and exposed from the knees up.

Gunnar’s big cock, four inches even flaccid, was draped off to the right over his impressive nut sack, and his chiseled torso, lightly dusted with blonde hair, looked magnificent there in the earliest light of a Sunday morning. His mouth was slightly open, as he breathed evenly. Jack’s powerful thighs, barrel stomach and furry chest, and thick dick and bull balls all presented a very hot picture of their own. Brad enjoyed the contrast between his own beefy, but solid husband, and the statuesque Gunnar.

Brad leaned over and put his lips against the gorgeous trooper’s ear then. “Gunnar,” Brad whispered gently.

“Mmn-huh?” Gunnar mumbled sleepily. Brad nibbled Gunnar’s earlobe playfully then.

“Oh, mmm,” Gunnar mumbled, awakening some now, “G’morning, Brad.” He smiled at Brad as their eyes met. Gunnar looked over and commented, “Looks like Jack’s still sound asleep.”

“Yep,” Brad said. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” Gunnar asked quietly, grinning.

“Let’s suck my hot husband’s dick to wake him up, Gunnar,” Brad replied matter of factly.

“Hell yeah!” Gunnar said in a loud whisper.

Soon, Gunnar and Brad were both between Jack’s legs, Brad licking his balls and Gunnar bobbing on Jack’s cock, which quickly went rock hard in his hot mouth.

“Whaa-what? Mmmmm!” Jack groaned as he awoke to this.

“Fuck!” Jack said, taking in the scene and how it felt, as he came completely awake and aroused.

“Gunnar is so hungry for your fat dick this morning, baby,” Brad said.

“Mmm,” Jack groaned, as Gunnar continued sucking his cock. “Is that so, Gunnar?”

Jack’s fat beer can cock escaped Gunnar’s mouth with an obscene wet plop. “Yes, Jack,” Gunnar said, looking up Jack’s hot naked body and into his blue eyes.

“Yes, what?” Jack asked sexily.

“I love sucking this fat fuckin’ cock, Jack!” Gunnar said hotly. "Brad's right, and Jack, I need to taste your cum so bad!"

Before too much more of Gunnar’s cock sucking and Brad’s ball licking and body caressing, Gunnar was rewarded with a huge, hot load of Jack’s delicious man cream, as he jacked himself to his own intense climax and Brad did the same as well. Soon the three friends showered, cleaned up, and after a couple of long, wet kisses with Gunnar, Brad and Jack said their goodbyes and headed back across the street to their place.

“Damn,” Jack commented, grinning, “What a way to end the night and start the morning! Love you, babe.”

"I love you too, big guy," Brad replied, as Jack took his hand and they started walking across their lawn. They both had thought there was no way they could love each other more than they already did, but they were finding that trusting and letting go enough to enjoy the intense experience of playing together with a select few friends was only amplifying the strong feelings they already had for each other.

Later, on that Sunday afternoon, Barney called Destiny and asked her to meet him in the local park. There, in the quiet shade of the gazebo, he told her the truth about her biological grandparents. Destiny gasped at the end of what Barney had told her. “Fuck.” She said simply at first. Barney slipped an arm reassuringly around her shoulders as they sat side by side on the bench inside of the gazebo.

“I know it must be a shock and all, to find out your biological grandmother was attacked and raped and that your mother was the product of that horrible act,” Barney said, not knowing what else to say at that moment.

“Well, I mean,” Destiny Rose said slowly, “on one hand, yes, obviously what happened was horrible. On the other hand, that means that Jenny Faye Smith is my grandmother. How ironic – if I wasn’t such a music geek I wouldn’t even know who she is and I wouldn’t have sung one of her songs in the competition. You know everybody says the way I sung 'When You Come Back to Me Again' was what helped me win.”

“You killed it, darlin’,” Barney said with a smile. He then turned more serious again, “So, how do you think your mother is going to take this news?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Destiny said. “But, you know, I think I’m going to head right up to Rosemont right now and tell her, though.”

“Okay,” Barney replied, “You call me later if you need to talk, sugar. And again, I wish I knew more about where Jenny Faye ended up, but that was the last time I heard from her, when she was about 24, all the way back in 1970 and just about a month after your mother had been born and adopted out to the Jenkinses.”

That same Sunday afternoon, out in the country at the home of Hank Anderson, Esquire and Miz Vivian Arnow Anderson, the doorbell rang. Miz Vivian’s nephew Thomas, who was up visiting from Vidalia, Georgia for the summer called out, “I’ve got it, Granny!”

Miz Vivian shuddered a little out back where she was sharing the Sunday paper in the sunroom with her husband. She was glad that one of her grandchildren was finally showing some interest in getting close to her, as they had never been when younger due to the attitudes of their dysfunctional parents and some other family issues.

She was delighted that 21-year old Thomas was spending the summer between college semesters staying with her and Hank. The poor kid had just gone through a bad breakup with a girlfriend, and Miz Vivian supposed that was also part of his reasoning for wanting to escape to Kentucky for the summer. But, GAWD, did he HAVE to actually call her GRANNY???

Aloud Miz Vivian called back, “All right, Thomas dear, thank you!”

Thomas was a handsome, very lean, blonde haired, blue eyed young man who stood six-feet four inches tall with a smooth swimmer’s build, appropriately enough as he had worked some of the previous summers as a lifeguard back home in Georgia. He opened the door and said hello to the man standing on the porch.

“Hello, I’m Bill O’Flannery,” the man introduced himself. “Are Miz Vivian or Mr. Anderson either at home?”

Thomas couldn’t help but notice how handsome the older guy was. He figured he was probably in his early forties or so. He also noted that Mr. O’Flannery had what sounded like a Boston-area accent. He was nearly as tall as Thomas, had auburn hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, deep green eyes, and a bit of auburn fur was peeking out of the top of the button-down shirt he was wearing.

He was beefy but very muscular and tanned, like someone who worked outside a lot, and he sure really filled out the Levi’s he was wearing in more ways than one. Thomas couldn’t help glancing at the bulge in them, something which did not escape Bill O’Flannery, who just grinned when their eyes met again.

“Um, nice boots,” Thomas mumbled nervously, pretending that the slick pair of Justins were the only thing he had just been checking out on the lower half of the hot Irish-American daddy bear man who stood before him.

“Thanks,” Bill O’Flannery said with a dazzling, and rather amused, smile. He was thinking what a hot fucking twink Thomas was, and feeling slightly like a dirty old man for just a moment, even though he was sure this guy was probably college age and legal. But, even though it did look like Thomas had just checked out his package, it was not really as if a hot guy over 20 years younger than him would probably give him the time of day anyway, Bill silently supposed.

Running his own construction company had consumed most of his time since he had lived in Kentucky the last few years. He had previously had a hot neighbor couple to fuck around with, Bubba and James, but they had since moved out of state. He had a few gay friends he hung out with socially on the rare occasions he had any spare time, but hadn’t dated anyone or even gotten laid in way, way too long.

Thomas remembered his manners then. “Oh, I’m sorry, come on in, sir,” he invited. “Granny and Mr. Anderson are out back in the sunroom.”

As they walked through the rambling old home which had been in Thomas’ step grandfather’s family for generations, Bill O’Flannery observed, “You don’t sound like you are from Kentucky.”

Thomas chuckled nervously, and replied, “Nah, I’m from Vidalia, Georgia,” in a much thicker, slower sounding version of the Southern accent than the version that Appalachian people like the natives of the Pleasant View area had. “I’m just up here visiting for the summer.”

“Well,” Bill replied, “As you can probably tell by my accent, I’m from the Boston area originally myself. And I sure hope you have a lot of fun here in Kentucky this summer.”

Was it Thomas’ imagination or had Bill just put a little too much emphasis on the word “fun”?

“Umm, yeah I am,” Thomas mumbled just as they reached the sunroom. “Granny, Mr. Anderson, this is Mr. O’Flannery here to see you,” Thomas provided.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Miz Vivian cooed, as the young man nodded and then quickly scurried away toward the stairs that would take him up to the room he was using as his own that summer.

“Hello, Bill,” Miz Vivian said warmly. She was already acquainted with the handsome construction company owner, who had previously built both the water bottling plant in which Miz Vivian was partners with Brad and Jack, as well as the vacation cabin on top of Smith’s Mountain where Brad and Jack loved to go when they could, either alone or with friends, for some relaxation and nudist time – and hot sex.

“Thank you both for seeing me today,” Bill replied. “I apologize again for asking you to have a business meeting on a Sunday afternoon, but we are so covered up with work right now that this is about the only time I could do it, as I told you on the phone. In fact, if we can work something out, I’ll probably be doing a lot of the work on this project for you personally.”

“Oh, no,” Miz Vivian cooed with a flirtatious wave of her dainty hand, which she made sure included it landing neatly on Bill’s fur-dusted forearm a couple of times. She knew Bill was gay and she knew her husband was sitting right there, but hell, a girl could have a little fun anyway, couldn’t she? “Thank you,” Miz Vivian continued aloud, “Hank and I are not conservatives anyway, and certainly not so much so as to be the type who would be offended by talking a little business on a Sunday, given the circumstances.”

Bill smiled, as much in amusement at the lady twenty-some years his senior flirting with him as from what she had just said. They then all walked out into the back yard, where Hank and Miz Vivian pointed out to Bill the sites where they were wanting to build a gazebo, as well as a cabana, and an in-ground pool, and also the large barn a bit further back which needed a new roof and some boards on its sides replaced. They soon reached an agreement, and Bill promised he would get started the very next day.

“Most of it I can probably do myself, with maybe just one of my guys helping me out with the roofing. The pool, I have a backhoe we can dig it with, and I have an associate who will finish it on out for you – you pay me for the whole job, and I’ll take care of paying him,” Bill concluded.

They all shook on it, and soon Bill was on his way back towards Smithville.

Up in Rosemont, Destiny had just explained to her mother Josephine the whole story that Barney had told her earlier in the day, as to Jenny Faye and her rapist having been Josephine’s biological parents. Josephine had gone through shock, anger, tears, and finally back to calming down enough to talk about it with her daughter over the course of the last several minutes.

“Well, baby girl,” Josephine said. “We know now where you got that beautiful singing voice anyway. And as much as I’d like to be all stereotypical here and shit and say that I hate my - - mother - - for giving me up for adoption, I guess I can see why she did what she did, given the circumstances.”

“And, too, I had a fine upbringing with the Jenkinses as you very well know. I do wonder where Jenny Faye wound up, and if she is even still living. In spite of knowing the whole story now, I would still like to get to know my biological mother.” Josephine paused, then looked her daughter in the eye, “Which also reminds me. I am sure you wish you knew your father, don’t you?”

Destiny hadn’t expected that, but she nodded quickly, “Yeah. Yeah, I do, Momma.”

“Well, I told you he was 17 when I got pregnant with you at 18 and left school at Stanford to move back to Kentucky. When he found out he had gotten me pregnant, he wanted me to - get rid of you - and when I refused we broke up and I left college. He was a handsome white boy, his name was Stretch Lewis, and he was from Kansas originally. He never wanted to have anything more to do with me after that – or with you,” Josephine said with a sigh.

“I suppose you could find him if you want to try,” Josephine reasoned. “He’d only be about 43 now, so barring something unforeseen I’m sure he is still around somewhere. I guess by now he has surely taken to going by either Zachary or Zach Lewis – a grown man wouldn’t still go by Stretch.”

Destiny thought about all of that for a minute, nodded, then replied, "I may try to find him, Momma. But, there is another thing that we should clear up while we are talking about all of this stuff. It is about time I told you the real reason why I quit school in Chicago and moved back to Kentucky a few years ago."

As always the author welcomes positive comments from readers at bradleyjcarson@gmail.com and appreciates likes and reviews on here as well.
2014-2015 Bradley J. Carson. "When You Come Back To Me Again" song lyrics also Copyright Bradley J. Carson.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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