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The Room in the Attic

"For some men, impassive sex is enough."

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Andy wasn’t anyone’s idea of an Adonis. He was six-foot-three and exceedingly thin, and at the age of thirty-six it wasn’t surprising he also had a small paunch. His face was long and thin like his body. He had crooked teeth, a weak chin and bushy, black eyebrows.

He wasn’t ugly or even homely. If he’d had only one of these negative characteristics it could have been overlooked, but the combination of them tended to defeat any chance of the beauty of his eyes, the luster of his hair, the perfection of his nose, from shining through.

But his looks weren’t Andy’s biggest problem: he was a financial disaster. It wasn’t that he had screwball ideas. It was that he invested in other people’s screwball ideas. Any time he had gotten a little ahead and had some money in the bank, he’d meet someone who had a brilliant business plan, but just lacked the money to get it off the ground.

If Andy would finance it, they’d all be rolling in lucre soon. And there he soon was, back at the starting gate again.

He had a sister who was six years older. Their mother, Penny, had been ill-equipped to be a mother. At the age of six, Myrtle already had the mothering instincts Penny lacked. She fulfilled the dual roles of big sister and surrogate mother, watching over her baby brother, protecting him from all harm.

She kept him from venturing too far and getting lost, from trying too hard and failing, from running too fast and falling, from experimenting and learning. As he grew into adolescence, and then into manhood she didn’t relinquish her position.

One probable reason was that Myrtle, the natural mother, was infertile.

She had met and married Chester when she was twenty-six. He was the loan officer in the bank where she had an account. When she wanted to buy her first car she applied for a loan, although she had no credit and a low-paying job. But when Myrtle made up her mind that she wanted something, she found a way to get it. Nothing insurmountable ever stood in her way. Chester certainly wasn’t insurmountable.

Myrtle was a big-boned woman, tall like her brother, but with meat on her bones. Chester was a small, mild-mannered man, and was no match for Myrtle. She got her loan, her car and soon after, a husband.

Several years after they married a nationwide chain of banks consumed the bank Chester worked for and subsequently closed that branch. Chester didn’t know how to fight for anything, and was out of a job.

However, he luckily landed on his feet by getting a job with an insurance brokerage firm. He was good at showing potential clients why they sorely needed insurance and how they could afford the most expensive policy he offered. Slowly he moved up in the firm and prospered.

When Myrtle decided she wanted a house of their own, she also decided she wanted to live in an old, established part of their town, where the houses were large and substantial. The big, fenced-in backyard was ideal for children to play in, but it wasn’t many years after buying the house that it became clear there would never be any children. Thus they lived in a house much too large for the two of them, and with four bedrooms and an additional converted room in the attic.

Andy’s misadventures didn’t just often put him back to where he started. With time he kept getting farther back, until he was in danger of running afoul of the law. Myrtle came through again, deciding he should move in with them.

He could claim the room in the attic as his own, and she would invade it only on Mondays to clean it up and change the linens. He could have breakfast and dinner with them. She could buy readymade sandwiches for him when she shopped for the week’s groceries, or he could walk the two blocks from his workplace to a small Greek-run restaurant that was open only for breakfast and lunch.

Andy worked as a warehouse router, and was satisfactorily proficient at his job. He didn’t drink or use drugs. He was on time and was in good health so that he missed few days. He got along well with his coworkers, although he didn’t associate with any of them outside of work. His salary was steady and he seemed satisfied to stay right where he was, with no tries at promotion.

Myrtle had seen to it that Chester would handle all of Andy’s finances, basically allotting him an allowance. She worked together with Chester showing Andy how to balance his accounts and not dig himself into deeper holes. Chester was ten years older than Andy, and Andy treated him with the respect an older and wiser person deserved.

Every evening after dinner Andy would retreat to his room in the attic. The room was small and spare with a slanted ceiling which would have been fine for a shorter person, but which forced Andy to be careful not to bump his head.

It contained a bed, a chair and a dresser, on which sat the television. There was a small table beside the bed that held a lamp and the alarm clock. A closet had been constructed under the eaves and a braided rug was beside the bed. The bathroom was one floor down, but Andy had added a plastic bucket he could piss in at night to keep from having to go down the stairs every three or four hours. In the morning he’d carry it down and empty it when he went to shower and shave.

So life in the big, old house on Oak Street appeared to be as routine and normal as any of the other houses that lined the street, and so it was for the three years since Andy had moved in.

Myrtle had recently been experiencing difficulty sleeping. She shunned doctors as much as possible, and had begun medicating herself by taking a commercial sleeping aid ever few nights. One night they had retired for the night when Chester remembered Myrtle needed the car the next day.

He slipped out of bed and padded up the stairs to ask Andy if he’d mind dropping him off at work on the way to the warehouse. The door to Andy’s room had the unfortunate habit of popping open with the slightest breeze that found its way up the stairs.

As Chester reached the top of the stairs he heard the muted sound of the TV. He was reaching to knock on the door before entering when two things occurred simultaneously: he recognized the sounds from the TV as being those of people having sex, and through the slit in the open door he saw that Andy was masturbating.

It also registered that Andy’s dick was probably the longest dick he’d ever seen. He stood where he was for a good half minute, and then common sense kicked in and he quietly turned and went back down the stairs. He’d have to try to catch him in the morning before he left for work.

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Back in bed the image he’d seen kept playing over and over in his mind like a tape loop. He’d only seen a slice of the room with Andy visible from his chest to his knees, but the view of his hand and dick had been clear.

After half an hour Chester got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He locked the door and dropped his pajama bottoms to his ankles. He sat on the commode and jacked off, shooting his cum down into the toilet bowl.

In the years since it had become clear he and Myrtle could not produce any offspring, she had lost her interest in sexual gratification. When the urge for release became pervasive, he’d do what he’d just done. Those times didn’t occur often, and he couldn’t remember when he’d had an orgasm as intense as the one he’d just had.

Four nights later Myrtle had complained she hadn’t slept for three nights, and took another dose of her sleeping aid. Chester waited until she was snoring, as she did when deeply asleep. He quietly got out of bed again and crept up the stairs.

The door was open and a wedge of light cut across the landing at the top of the stairs. The sound from the TV was clear and unmistakable. He snuck up to the door and peered in. He could see Andy’s hand and his dick, but he seemed to be fondling it rather than stroking.

Andy’s nightly habit was to watch porn on his TV. He didn’t much care which channel he watched or what was showing. He usually saw cheap film clips of a man and woman, sometimes a man with two women, sometimes multiple men and women. On occasions when there were rather large groups, a couple of the men would sometimes get together.

He’d seen clips of a woman with two men in which she encouraged them to do to each other what they’d been doing to her. While surfing he’d also clicked on videos of both small and large groups of men only, sucking and fucking each other. He really didn’t much care who was on the screen or what they were doing. All of it was down and dirty and that’s what he wanted to see.

He usually played with his erect dick, keeping it hard, often bringing himself to the edge and backing off. Almost every night he’d finally jack off, shooting his cum into an old rag of a T-shirt he kept in the back of the drawer in the table that held the lamp and clock.

This night Chester stood entranced by the size of Andy’s dick. It seemed to be a reflection of his body style: long and slim. He reached into the opening of his pajamas and felt his own, much smaller, erection.

A rare boldness made itself known to Chester and he placed his hand on the door, but hesitated. Desire prevailed and he pushed the door open. Andy looked toward the door, and although surprised to see his brother-in-law there, he didn’t try to cover himself or stop what he was doing.

Neither of them spoke. Chester walked into the room and took the few steps to the bed. He climbed onto the bed and Andy slid over, making more room for Chester to lie beside him. Chester pulled his erect dick out from his pajamas and followed Andy’s way of stroking it slowly, not trying to reach a climax yet.

They continued watching the action on the TV screen, but Chester’s eyes kept shifting to Andy’s dick. Andy was wearing boxers, and Chester wondered how big his hidden balls were. He noticed that the skin on his dick slipped up and down, so he must not be circumcised. He tried to picture Andy’s dick soft and how much of the head his foreskin covered.

He noticed Andy had begun jacking his dick more intensely. He figured Andy was near to cumming, but he wished he wouldn’t: not yet. Impulsively, without forethought, he bent forward and took the head of Andy’s dick in his mouth. Andy stopped jacking his dick and withdrew his hand. He passively looked down at the top of Chester’s head, his scalp gleaming through his thinning hair.

Chester moved his head down, taking as much of his brother-in-law’s long dick into his mouth as he could. He marveled at the way a dick in his mouth felt. It was hard, yet pliable. The skin was soft and silky, and he was surprised he could tell that with his tongue. He could feel the thick vein that ran up the underside and he could discern the piss hole.

Andy leaned to one side so he could see his dick going into and out of his brother-in-law’s mouth. No one had ever done this to him before, and he was amazed how good it felt. Why did a mouth feel so much better than his hand? No matter, it did, and at the moment that was enough.

He took the bottom half of his dick back in his hand and jacked it, his fist sometimes bumping against Chester’s lips. They worked in tandem, going faster, Andy’s breathing coming in puffs and gasps.

He felt his cum churning in his balls and rushing up his dick to escape. He clutched Chester’s head and held him captive making sure his cum would find a refuge deep in Chester’s throat.

His cum shot out forcefully and Chester felt his mouth fill with a sensation and taste he’d never experienced, nor had ever expected to. His nostrils were full of a new aroma. He breathed deeply. He rolled the origin of the scent and taste around on his tongue. He swallowed, not letting any of it escape.

When there was no more and he felt the muscle relaxing, he brought his head up. Andy looked at his softening dick lying outside of his boxers, wondering at what had just happened.

Chester got off the bed and walked to the door, quietly opened it and went out, closing it behind him. He hurried down the stairs and went into the bathroom in order to complete the experience. This time when he shot off he was almost overcome with a never-before felt dizziness.

Andy used his T-shirt to wipe his dick dry and tucked it back into his boxers. He turned off the TV and the light and rolled over onto his side. He wondered if this was a one-time thing, or the start of a new chapter in his life.

He needn’t have worried. Chester had opened a door he never knew was locked. He’d entered a garden he didn’t know existed. He didn’t need love, he didn’t want romance, he didn’t require reciprocation. He was satisfied with sucking his brother-in-law’s big dick and receiving his cum.

Andy didn’t care why his brother-in-law wanted to suck his dick. He’d never had such pleasure before, and at no cost to him.

Henceforth, once, maybe twice a week, Chester would steal up the stairs to the room in the attic and these two men experienced something neither of them had ever encountered before, which gave them more pleasure than they could have imagined.

And three years later it was still as exciting and as satisfying as it had been that first night.

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Written by spinneroftales
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