West Otter Lake

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2013 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 4
 

"The most agreeable of all companions is a simple, frank man without any high pretenses to an oppressive greatness."

– ( Lessing)

I drove Luis to the end of the lane to catch the school bus for the ride to his first day of school in a new high school in a new land, in an environment which, until three days ago, was only something he saw in the news. It was a cold, dark morning with snow falling lightly, reflecting diamonds of light in the glow of the trucks headlights. A 7:00am bus arrival isn't especially early in our part of the state since, from my own school experience at Otter Lake School District and riding a bus on this same route, some fellow students were picked up around six-thirty. It wasn't the longest bus route in the district, but Luis would be on the bus for well over an hour before arriving at school.

Otter Lake School District is a consolidated school district, encompassing a large geographical area, but has only one school complex with all grades, kindergarten through twelve, under a three-winged, brick building linked together by a large commons area where the students gather before and after school and lunches are served. The building sports three different gymnasiums, one for the elementary, one for the middle school, and one for the high school. In addition to playgrounds, the football field, track, and baseball and softball diamonds are also located on the thirty acre tract of land just east of Otter Lake. The high school, where Luis would be attending, has an enrollment of approximately three hundred, but the entire school district has an enrollment of about nine hundred and fifty in all grades.

The curriculum is fairly decent and enhanced through a distance learning component utilizing the internet and satellite programming. The fine arts are limited to choir, band, and drama with an occasional musical tossed in, depending on the mood of the department, while athletics consists of hockey (one of the more popular sports and played in an indoor hockey rink down town), football, boys and girls basketball, volleyball, wrestling, and spring and fall track. I didn't think Luis would be interested in athletics; he just didn't seem to lean that way. I know I wasn't, although I did attend hockey games and wrestling meets sometimes. I enjoyed the hockey, especially with all of the excitement of contact and the clacking, clattering of sticks, and the regular "THUMP" of players hitting the sides of the arena as they barreled into them. The wrestling matches, with the crotch grabbing and fondling, made me hard as a nail!

I spotted the lights of the bus down the road coming in our direction and I fussed making certain Luis had his lunch ticket, locker combination, schedule, pencils, papers, and all that shit parents seem to worry about. The only thing he didn't have was a cellphone, but I vowed next time I was in Parsonville, I'd remedy that. He needed to be able to contact us if the necessity arose. As the bus pulled up, stop and caution lights flashing, stop arm extended, I leaned over and quickly gave him a kiss on his forehead, wishing him the best of the day.

"Have a good day," I added softly and he scooted out the truck door and onto the bus. As it pulled away, I shuddered to myself, fearful he might encounter difficulties because of his ethnicity and the fact he was new to the school. New kids, especially those in small communities, who might look different such as Luis, a minority, can have a pretty rough time of it. Even if not ethnically different, teens can be brutal to each other, especially if they sense any weakness in another.

Back at the Lodge, Leandro, all bundled up in his new winter outdoor clothing, was busy using the tractor and bucket cleaning up the accumulated snowfall and piling it out of the way. Walking through the kitchen, I could hear a washing machine running indicating Leandro also started the laundry before heading outside. I headed to the office to check the reservation file and update the white board on the office wall. Although all reservations were kept on the computer by cabin and date, I still used the method my grandparents used for a number of years; recording them in a reservation book on my desk and posting them on the white board. I still like to be able to look up and, at a glance, see what cabins were rented or not by individual weeks.

The board has twelve columns across, one for each cabin and twenty-six columns down, one for each week of the cabin season. As a cabin was rented for a specific week, I'd write it in; blank spaces meant that particular cabin was available for specific weeks. Information concerning each rental was kept on the computer where the file contained name, address, phone number, e-mail address, and any other reservation data pertinent to making our guests comfortable. If they'd rented in the past, I made special notes concerning their likes, dislikes, activities participated in, and suggestions or criticisms they made concerning their stay and our service. By doing so, I hoped I could correct or adjust what we did or provided in order to make their stay pleasant and bring them back another year. It must work, because over the years, the Resort has a steady, loyal, returning clientele.

July and the first two weeks of August were full already, which was quite normal. School down south was generally out by the middle of June and resumed toward the end of August, so families tended to book those dates for their vacations. Fishermen liked to be in the cabins as soon as the fishing season opened and definitely in June when some of the better fishing occurred. There'd be some cancelations before the season began for whatever reason and, if notified thirty days prior to the reservation date I'd refund their full deposit. After that, however, unless it was an emergency, they forfeited the deposit of half of the week's rent.

Cabins rented for eight hundred a week, including a sixteen foot aluminum boat, bedding, kitchen utensils, and table service. Each cabin had three bedrooms, gas stove, refrigerator, couch, several chairs, kitchen table and chairs, and appliances. In addition there was a window air conditioner (seldom used), television connected through cable to the Resorts' satellite system, and Wi-Fi beamed from the Lodge. Boat motor, gas, and bait were extra.

The campground has thirty nicely shaded spots with electric hookups. I don't have water or sewer extended to each site, although with the use of one hundred foot of hose or so, a camper could fill their water tank if they ran low. I have a sewer dump near the entrance of the resort where they could dump holding tanks on the way out or in. We do provide a nice shower house with free showers and restroom facilities along with Wi-Fi access to each site beamed from the Lodge. The campsites rent for thirty dollars a day and are quite popular. A quick glance through the computer registration file indicated I had about three-quarters of the campsites rented during the height of the season (seventy days or so) and approximately half during the rest (about 90 days). Depending on the weather, if past years were any indication, the campground would be full in July and August and almost full June and the rest of August. It tapered off as the weather cooled in the fall.

There were years when the Resorts cabins would be rented between eighty and ninety percent of the time from the first of June to mid-August and about fifty to sixty percent of the time the rest of the year. The campground was a crap shoot every year depending on weather. The bar in the Lodge, bait, motor rental, paddle boat, canoe, small sail boat rental (I had two), bait and any other extras the guests spent money on, coupled with cabin and campsite rentals, kept the gross income of the resort in the six figures each year with net profits (after taxes) in the mid to upper five figures. The resort did well, if managed well, and I intended to continue doing so, as had Grandma and Grandpa Johnson. It provided them with a good living and me, a good home, and I saw no reason to change. I'd be able to save bookkeeping and accounting costs since I was a certified public accountant and would do the resort's books instead of contracting it out as had my grandparents.

Time must've slipped away from me because Leandro poked his head in the office and announced lunch. While we ate Leandro inquired what else I wanted him to do and what really was expected while living here. I was so used to being here alone this past year; Grandma and Grandpa closed the Lodge for a couple of months during the winter and went south when I was in college so it took me a minute to think about it.

Finally, I answered, "After lunch were going to take tour of the Lodge; you need to know how to stoke the outside furnace, find the electric boxes, water shutoffs, equipment, supply closets and rooms, tools, and how to make reservations, among a few things. As time goes on and I think of other items, we can discuss those, but I think after a while you'll see things that need to be done and do them." I didn't want to be a boss that hovered over employees; besides, I didn't see Leandro and Luis employees, more my family, I think.

It was much too early to begin readying the boats and motors for the season or the cabins, but we did need to inventory our cleaning supplies, linens, artificial baits and lures to sell, and the many, many items it'd take to run the resort for a season. In addition, with three of us now in the Lodge, we'd have to compile a grocery list and keep on hand, as I explained, "enough to last a week or so in case we got snowed in with a major storm." This also meant making certain the big propane tank that supplied fuel for the auxiliary heat and cooking for the Lodge, as well as kitchen stoves and furnaces in the cabins, was kept full. When the road limits were off in the spring, I'd have the septic service come out and pump the tanks.

Each grabbing a pad of paper and pencil, we started going through the supply and storage rooms, taking note of those items we had and those we were short of. By the time we finished and I'd answered as many questions as he asked, I looked at my watch and noticed it was about time for the school bus to bring Luis home. I put on my winter coat and drove to the end of the lane and waited for him. The bus pulled up, Luis disembarked, brown, smiling face peering out from his parka hood, and climbed in the front seat of the truck. I gathered from the way he chattered on the drive back to the Lodge, he'd had a pretty good day.

During supper, he continued discussing the high school building, the lunch he ate (not bad, he thought), the teachers, his schedule, and the other kids. He hadn't had any problems, but not many people spoke to him either. "I think I'm ahead of most of them in my studies," he allowed, "but I'm not going to say anything too much. Nobody likes a new kid who thinks he knows all the answers. I think I'll just keep a low profile."

I thought that might be a damned good idea!

He paused, furrowed his forehead in thought and inquisitiveness and added, "Conner, I have physical education on Wednesday and I don't have gym shoes, gym shorts, or a jock. Where can I get them?"

Assuring him it'd be no problem and he'd have them in time for class on Wednesday, I suggested we measure him before bed to make certain I bought the right sizes. Leandro was fairly certain what size waist and shoe he needed (size eight, small shorts and jock), but we did anyway. Leandro was right!

The next day, while Luis was in school, Leandro and I drove over to Parsonville, bought Luis gym clothes and a gym bag to carry them in, a smart phone so he could text and do all kinds of fancy shit on it, and a laptop computer. I reasoned, since the Lodge and Resort was Wi-Fi equipped, he could use it for school work.

As I perused the selection, Leandro leaned over my shoulder, hands on both of my hips, snugged his face next to mine and murmured softly, "You're going to spoil that boy." I leaned back, took a deep breath, smelling his fragrance which sent an instant message to my cock, and responded, "We all need to be spoiled a little, don't you think?"

He nodded, rubbing his smooth face up against my cheek. If we hadn't been in the store, I think I'd have slipped down my pants and ask him to spoil my pucker to his heart's delight.

Leandro built a shelter, a bus stop waiting kiosk, with windows and a door for Luis to stand in while waiting for the bus in the morning so he wouldn't be subjected to the elements. On those days he walked down the lane to catch the bus, it'd come in handy, or if, when he disembarked at night and the weather was nasty he could wait there for one of us to drive down and pick him up. A lock was installed on the inside of the door, just in case there was a need for it.

Luis would come home from school and do his homework before he did anything else. He'd either work at the kitchen table, at the desk in the office if I was there, or up in his room. We moved a student desk in there for him to work on and use for his lap top. The lad was adjusting well to living here and in Otter Lake. I found myself treating Luis more like a little brother rather than being his custodian or guardian. He was a little brother all we vowed to guard and protect. As cute as he was and soft and tempting his pert little butt may be, I just knew I couldn't ship my cargo in his boxcar. His brother, Leandro, was a different story, however; he could engineer his train up my tracks any time- day or night!

Being around him during the day and in the evening, enjoying his company and help at the Resort, brought on a familiarity, a deeper feeling for this quiet, soft-spoken attractive man. His presence, soft and satisfying conversations with me dispelled any loneliness I may've felt with the loss of Grandmother Johnson. Leandro and Luis each had a distinct fragrance and I could differentiate between the two with my eyes closed. As crazy as this may sound, I could stand up next to either one and tell if he'd jacked off a short while before. There's a sweet smell of cum that would drift from him, faint, unrecognizable or noticeable by others, but definitely perked my nostrils and interests. I don't know how many times I wanted to bury my face in Leandro's pubes and suck his uncut man-meat into my mouth and slip the foreskin back with my tongue, bringing him to a screaming, stiff, hard-on climax.

Leandro seemed comfortable, relaxed around me; casually putting an arm around me, bringing me gently to his side or when sitting next to me. He'd inadvertently, or purposely, place a hand on my thigh, high on my thigh, not far from the pants enclosed white piccolo and lightly rub a finger not far from my instrument of pleasure. He seemed delighted in touching me, wanting to maintain contact of some sort. I'd look at this delectable man; black hair, soft, deep brown almost liquid eyes, long lashes that seemed to beckon me, and lips delicately placed on an almost hairless face, wanting, almost begging to be kissed, and realized I was falling in love with him. Such a decision I was faced with –how would I resolve it? There was no way I was going to make the first move, I'd been burned before and it'd be up to him.

Toward the end of February, we were being inundated with one of those heavy, nasty lake-effect snowstorms that often come barreling off of the Great Lake some miles north and west of us really dumping a shit-load of snow all over. School was canceled for the day, so I poked my head in Luis' bedroom door on the way down stairs, announcing it to him, so he rolled over to go back to sleep. Still clad in my boxer shorts, I wandered down to the kitchen to rustle up a cup of coffee. Leandro, dressed only in his boxers, had the coffee on brewing and was standing leaning up against the kitchen counter, turned slightly from me. His slim hips, brown smooth back and stomach and slightly bulging front section where his cock was located, enticed me as he stood there quietly. Hearing me enter, he turned, smiled and surveyed me from top to bottom, finally settling his gaze on my own now puffing crotch.

Still smiling, walking over to me, putting his arms around me, pressing his bare chest to mine, pushing his hardening crotch up tight to mine, I thought at first he was just giving me a "good morning" hug as he usually did. Nuzzling my neck with his soft moist lips changed my opinion of that and it really changed as he snaked his hand down the front of my shorts and began fondling my stiffening prod and cupping my balls in his hand. The other hand he tickled down my back, under the waistband, and glided his fingers into my valley of delight. I knew then this was going to be a bit more than simple "good morning revelry;" it was going to a full-blown flag-raising with trumpets and drums!

I held him close as he changed tactics and shifted my boxers down around my ankles, and once his followed them, laid his bigger and thicker cock alongside mine and began thrusting, up the length, around the head, tickling my glans with his dripping prick. I moaned, knowing, hoping where this was going. One of us was either going to get fucked or blown, or both!

Leandro kissed me softly and began nibbling and sucking his way down my body, twirling his tongue around my nips, into my navel, and finally swiped it the length of my turgidity until he reached the head and incased it with his soft, sweet lips, easily, carefully suctioning it. His talented tongue explored my length, teasing open my cum slit, and then retreating to lap around the head again. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven at that point.

He turned, bent over, revealing his slightly pink puckering anal ring to me and backed up to my crotch, inviting me to take a ride. I was still slick from his mouth and was starting to drip copious amounts of cock-snot, so I moved cautiously, carefully forward until the mushroom tip of my hardness encountered his opening, and with a nudge, popped it inside his love tunnel just past the gripping ring. Leandro sighed "Yes" and pushed back until tight up against my bush, leaving little room for even a piece of paper between my crotch and his delicate mounds. I felt my balls encounter his as I leaned forward and over his back, securing my arms around his chest, resting my stomach on his back and my face nested to his over his shoulder.

As I began a slow and easy fuck, he manipulated his own appendage into a complete and full state of dripping arousal and the faster I pumped his bowels, the faster he pummeled his dick with his hand. When I began moaning and spurting inside him, breeding him, he clamped down on my cock with his ass muscles and fired several salvos of his own white magma out on the kitchen floor. I remained stretched across his back, my arms around him until I began to soften and dropped out. My exit was followed by a trickling of my cum, which I gently wiped away with my shorts.

Leandro stood, smiled, his white teeth shining, gave me a long, tongue-flicking kiss, and whispered, "Thank you." Before I could respond in like manner, he leaned over, lapped my now deflated thruster with his tongue, picking up a single drop of spooge that still clung to the tip, and giggled, "You better take a shower before all that crusts to your penis and begins to itch." As if I could care, I now knew where I could put it to resolve the itching problem, but I took his advice.

I almost floated up the stairs to my bedroom. Stripping off my cum stained shorts, grabbing a towel, washcloth, body wash and shampoo, I stepped in to the shower, adjusted the water to a temperature I enjoyed and allowed the cascading water to warm me, cleanse me, and bathe me in the knowledge that the move had been made and the choice secured.

Placing a dollop of shampoo on my hand, closing my eyes, working the shampoo into my hair and scalp, I felt another hand alongside it, massaging and washing, and a voice; a voice I only knew too well, speak lovingly, "Let me do that for you," and Leandro removed my hand and continued a gentle, soothing massage of my shampoo covered hair and scalp. I hadn't heard him follow me up the stairs or enter the bathroom, but here he was. His fingers poked, danced, and erotically kneaded my head and my neck, relaxing me, causing me to lean back against his wet, warm, naked chest. As I did, I felt something (something-hell; it was a stiff, big, REAL something) rest its warm length in the Valley of the Mounds. My own button-thumper came on instant alert! If, resting in my quivering crevice was what it felt like, Beau definitely had very little to brag about.

I wiggled, just to make certain, and was positive of its origin, purpose, and the direction it might go, if he'd just do it. Rinsing my head, clearing it of the soapy residue, he applied a liberal amount of body wash to the cloth and began a careful, delightful, and licentious wash of my quivering, excited body, paying special attention to my now quite turgid, tonsil tickler, finally guiding the slick, soapy cloth between my ass cheeks, swirling the cleanser around and in my rear entryway, insuring its cleanliness. Guiding me under the spraying water and sending suds and residue spiraling down the drain, Leandro moved one hand from my body and I heard a distinct "click" and then a "snap" sounding very much like a tube of something being opened and then closed.

The source of the sound, reminiscent of my days with Beau, was confirmed as a cold gel was applied to my anal ring and a very talented, slim finger slithered more around inside, preparing me for a trip around the world. I was about to be royally and truly fucked by the magnificent instrument of pleasure attached to the man I'd fallen in love with.

Leandro bent his knees, scrunching down just a little to better aim his love thruster at his target, allowing for the considerable length, and raised up, contacting my twitching, pulsating portal, gave a push, a grunt, and the fat head, exposed and free of its hooded enclosure, popped through my muscled, ringed barrier, causing me to gasp and clench tight around it! Waiting for me to relax and adjust before he waggled and wiggled more of that stiff, flexing sailing mast up into my warm, contracting and massaging harborage, he leaned forward, licked the inside of my right ear, reached around me and turned off the water.

"Waste not, want not," he admonished softly.

Believe me, what I had journeying up my sailing chute was in no danger of being wasted by me; this was one trip I intended to enjoy to its final climax! I intended to sink myself on it as deeply and securely as I could and still walk the next day. Leandro pushed up, I pushed back, and be began a trip up the Amazon. When he twitched my prostate on his first pass, I signaled by clenching my ass cheeks and moaning, signaling him to continue. He met another barrier, one that Beau never met, and with another grunt and shove from both of us, surmounted that obstacle and finally was anchored balls deep, his crotch to my ass. Oh, what a delight it is!

Leandro was an excellent lover, far better than Beau ever bragged he was and far more than I'd ever imagined a lover could be. He'd take me almost to the edge, back off, and take me there again, teasing me, postponing my surging balls release. Finally, when neither of us could hold off any longer, he reached around and began masturbating me while he pumped his thickness in my ass. I clenched my buns as ropes of white, stringy, ropes of cum shot out of my dick, bringing him to a voluminous, gut-coating, spray of sticky froth, seeding me, breeding me. I could feel the hot jizz spurt out of him as he twitched, pulsed, swelled and diminished, then twitch, pulse, and swell again. It was so heavy and with such vigor, I could feel his sperm squirt up his cock, out the slit, and into me each of the several times he ejaculated. So much of his essence was transfused into me while he was still stiff, resting his chest on my back, his horn still embedded in me, I could feel it leaking out around his still lurching, palpating, penis.

Once he withdrew, he turned the water back on, rinsed us both and carefully, meticulously dried me and himself, then led me to my bedroom, and returned to his. I was in a quandary all day, but Leandro carried on as normal.

It was also on this snow day Luis became our reservation clerk. I'd shown him previously the process and procedure for taking and canceling reservations and after breakfast, while Leandro, and I were moving snow, stoking the furnace, and other outside work, he happened to be in the office when a cancelation for July came by telephone and a new reservation was made for June in the cabins. He handled them just fine and we had two happy customers.

I lay awake that night, my mind all akimbo, trying to decide what to do, when Leandro walked through the bathroom and entered my darkened room, crawled into bed with me, and spooned behind me, his naked body pressed up against mine. God, that was a great night! Life couldn't get any better, so I thought. I never thought it might get worse.

To be continued...

Posted: 12/06/19