I grew up without a father. By the age of sixteen, I had grown accustomed to this fact, and mum and I never really spoke about dad. All I got told was that my father was an oaf and that their very brief marriage had been a difficult one. According to her, I was better off not knowing him. I didn’t even have a clue what he looked like because there were no photos of him. I took after my mother in appearance. She was fair-haired, slim, five-feet-six tall, and attractive. I had the same blue eyes as my mum, and there was absolutely no doubt that we were mother and son. I was often teased about being far too pretty for a boy and swore that if I heard that statement one more time, I was going to shoot the person uttering those words. What pissed me off was being told, “You’re so pretty, you should have been a girl.”
My grandparents also never mentioned my father, and I was sure that they had not liked him. I supposed this was another reason why my father’s existence never got acknowledged.
Six months before I turned seventeen, however, my life changed remarkably. My mom, Kerry, was diagnosed with terminal cancer and would be dead in six months. We had a very kind neighbor named Lilly, who helped us out during mom’s illness. With my mom being an only child, we had no extended family, and my frail grandmother was also incapable of contributing in any way. A week before my mother passed, she eventually broke down and contacted my father, Matt.
Two monumental facts emerged at this time; Firstly, Matt did not know of my existence, and therefore, didn’t realize that he had another son called Rhys. Secondly, I also did not grasp that I had an older half-brother named Mark. Mom had married dad several months after Matt’s first wife had passed away, by which time Mark, the son from his former marriage, was already a year old.
When my mother left my father, she did not know that she was already four weeks pregnant with me. Having not slept with another man at that time, she knew that I could only be his child. Mum informed Matt that if he required a paternity test to verify her claim, she would understand. He never did. As she explained to him telephonically, she had decided to keep my existence a secret to keep things uncomplicated. Unfortunately, given her current condition, she now had no other option, and I would have to live with my father after her death.
Matt arrived two days later, three days before my mother passed. He stayed in our flat during his visit. I first met him at the hospital while visiting mom and was taken aback by his solid appearance. Dad was a construction worker. He was ruggedly handsome, forty-four-years-old and stood six-feet-two-inches-tall. He was quite hairy, and the dark hair on his head was gray flecked. His hands and feet were huge. When he walked into mom’s ward, he bent down to kiss her before awkwardly hugging me.
After their chitchat, mom asked me to leave the room and wait in the passage. My parents then spoke for about an hour or so. En route back to our apartment later, dad stopped to buy pizzas for dinner. My father was very embarrassed that he had not brought along a picture of my twenty-one-year-old step-brother, Mark, before leaving to be with us. Dad and I spoke for a while after dinner before I went to bed. With the advent of the summer holidays two weeks earlier, I still had another three weeks of vacation left. Dad’s company had given him compassionate leave due to the circumstances in which we found ourselves.
We spent the next day at the hospital, and that night my mother went into a coma from which she did not recover. She passed away a day later. On the following two days, funeral arrangements got made, and we also visited my school for the necessary transfer documents I required. The contents of mom’s apartment got disposed of, and two suitcases of odds and ends belonging to me were packed into dad’s pick up. I had turned seventeen during this upheaval, and it was not a happy birthday.
The day after the funeral, we departed for my next home. During the drive, the smell emanating from Matt was potent, and I would soon come to know, showering in my new life would not be a priority. This routine was very different from my life with mom, where showering was a daily requirement. When we arrived at my new home later that day, I realized that I would be living in a trailer park. Our ‘home,’ however, appeared quite neat from the outside. As we got out of the vehicle, my step-brother, Mark, walked out of the front door to greet us, only wearing a pair of shorts.
The resemblance between him and dad was remarkable, and I instantly knew what dad had looked like at Mark’s age. Mark was almost as hairy as our father but had a fuller head of black hair. He was over six-foot-tall and very handsome.
Once inside, I was amazed by the layout of the trailer. It was bigger than it had looked from the outside. The open part of the interior consisted of a kitchen, dining room, and living room. There were also two bedrooms and one bathroom. Mark and I shared a room with a large double bed, a temporary measure as dad informed me. After our arrival, dad put on shorts and walked around barefoot like Mark. Mark’s feet were dirty, and dad joked with him about his strong musky smell.
Mark always had to be reminded to shower, according to Matt, and with dad away over the previous few days, it appeared that Mark had forgotten where the bathroom was. Mark’s hands also looked like they needed a good scrubbing. Mark and Matt drank beer and smoked while supper got prepared. I also put on a pair of shorts to conform. I even got offered a beer, which I sipped very slowly so as not to offend. Being with guys was vastly different from my former existence.
As we ate, I saw table manners were unimportant to Mark and Matt, and they hadn’t even bothered to wash their hands before eating. While washing up the dishes, they joked about being overdressed due to my presence. Generally, they usually walked around the trailer naked. They always left a pair of shorts over a chair at the front door in case of unexpected visitors. I was starting to realize why my mother would have found life with my father such a strain because she was very straitlaced. I, however, was finding this new carefree existence rather refreshing and unnaturally stimulating.
My dad informed me that he would prefer me to refer to him Matt in the future, as I had noticed Mark doing. Before bed, I also got told about another tradition in this household, where male affection was the norm. After kissing both Matt and Mark, I went to bed after brushing my teeth. The guys continued chatting another half an hour before Mark walked into our room and inquired if I was still awake. Pretending to be asleep, I did not reply. Mark then got into bed, and I had to listen to what would become Mark’s nightly masturbation ritual, a custom that almost drove me out of my mind with lust. As if that was bad enough, the heady smell of escalating virility followed, by the beguiling odor of spunk that he simply massaged into his torso, almost drove me out of my mind.
When I awoke on Saturday morning and headed to the bathroom for a shower, I heard Matt busy in the kitchen as I reentered my room. When Mark got up out of bed, he was naked, and as he stood stretching and yawning, I observed his cock was uncut. The uncut dick pleased me because I was one of the few guys at my former school who had a foreskin. I had always felt like the odd man out because of this.
Mark then threw me onto the bed and started tickling me. As I giggled and tried to fight him off, he said that he felt stoked to have a brother of his own. I had always wondered what it would be like to have a brother, and the familial warmth was extremely gratifying. At that moment a brotherly bond between us got established, and after that, I would always love him unreservedly. Sadly, although I could feel Mark’s cock was hard, nothing initially happened between us.
After joining dad in the kitchen, we ate our breakfast in the nude. My eyes almost came out on stalks when I observed Matt’s dick, which was an amplified version of Mark’s.
Matt and Mark then spent all morning, and afternoon, working on a pickup that Mark had gotten for his twenty-first birthday. We had sandwiches for lunch and, surprisingly, both men washed their hands before we ate. By the end of the day, they got covered in grease and showered before we had a barbeque that evening.
After getting into bed later, Mark asked me how often I masturbated. Shyly, I answered, “Once a day.”
When I asked him the same question, he laughed and then replied, “Lots more than that.”
Out of the blue, he then asked, “Do you prefer boys?” I had never blushed so profusely in my life. Picking up on my extreme discomfort, he said, “That’s okay, buddy, no need to talk about it now. Relax, it’s all cool.”
Having reached puberty five years earlier, I knew that I was gay, but I had never told my mother. I was concerned about what my father and half-brother’s reactions might be if they eventually found out.
Around midday on Sunday, Matt packed a picnic basket before we drove off to one of his favorite spots. After a few enjoyable hours, we returned home. As dad had to resume work the following day, he went to bed early. Mark was between jobs, which was the norm in his life.
On Monday, after dad left for work, Mark and I spent the day driving around the area as he introduced me to my new environs.
***
Cal Evans lived in a corner trailer next to us. Cal, short for Calvin, was a forty-two-year-old man. Mondays to Fridays, Cal worked the night shift at a warehouse as a security officer, from eight p.m. till six a.m. Cal was divorced and had three sons, two of whom lived with their dysfunctional mother. Aidan, who lived with his dad, was the eldest son. He was twenty-years-old and worked as an auto mechanic. Aidan got followed by Brad, who was seventeen, and then Bobby, who was sixteen. Both of them were still at school. I would not meet Cal and the boys until the following Saturday. Cal had taken his boys off in his camper van on their annual holiday. Matt referred to their excursion as ‘an annual hillbilly gathering in the mountains.’ I got warned; that although Cal and the boys were real rednecks, they were great guys and were virtually like family to Matt and Mark.
I spent a quiet week acclimatizing to my new environment. Fortunately, Mark did not again press me on the matter of his unanswered question. Before we fell asleep at night, Mark’s goodnight hugs became increasingly suggestive, and it was almost like he was testing me. When I hoped that things would get taken further, Mark restrained himself and settled into his self-pleasuring a while later.
On Friday night, the Evans’ finally arrived home at around nine p.m. At that late hour, however, I would not meet them until the following morning. The Evans’, except for Aidan, who was spending the day with a friend, visited at ten the next morning to meet the new boy. Dad had not lied about them; they were real rednecks!
Cal was around five-feet-eleven inches tall. His face was pockmarked, presumably from acne as a teenager. He was almost bald except for a few tufts of hair around the sides of his head and sported a long moth-eaten looking goatee. Although Cal and his boys were lithe of build, there was no doubt that the Evans’ sinewy bodies were powerful. They were all unattractive, barefoot, topless, and wearing dirty shorts. Both sons had unfortunately inherited their father’s skin condition. The two boys sported mullet hairstyles that were in sore need of a wash. When man hugs got exchanged, the three of them smelled a little ripe.
While all us youngsters talked among ourselves indoors, Matt and Cal each grabbed a beer and went outside for a chat and a smoke. Along with Mark, both Evans boys lit up cigarettes and drank beer. Twenty minutes later, when Matt and Cal rejoined us, Cal looked at me and said, “You’re prettier than any girl or boy I’ve ever seen.” I was grateful that, ‘or boy’ had been added.
Cal then walked over to me with a predetermined look on his face, as if he was going to prove a point. Next, after grabbing hold of me, he began to give me a tonsil washing of note. I offered no resistance as I got ensconced by his robust grip. I then observed Matt embracing Brad and Mark doing the same with Bobby. I was astounded!
When Cal finally let go of me, I looked from Matt to Mark, who were both shrugging and smiling collusively. Mark then spoke. “It’s your call, Rhys. Now that you know the lay of the land, you must decide.”
I had been through two bombshells recently, and as much as sex with a guy was no problem for me, I had not realized that ‘man-love’ ruled in my new neck of the woods. Matt and Mark fucked Bobby and Brad regularly. Cal and Aidan also often had sex with Mark.
Quizzically, I wondered if incest also got practiced in the enclave of iniquity. Thus far, Matt and Mark had given me no cause to believe this was the case.
Continuing to grasp my wrist, Cal coercively suggested that I head back to his trailer with him. As if in a trance, I followed. As we were leaving, the other two couples were already moving off to their respective bedrooms.
