Brody's Christmas Pacage

Chestnut Falls

1952

It was a beautiful, frosty Christmas Eve as Mark Matheson stood at the bathroom mirror, neatly combing his hair. Always the early bird, he had already dressed and readied himself for the Christmas Eve church service while the rest of the Matheson's scurried around with their last minute holiday preparations. From the kitchen, Mrs. Matheson's gorgeous glazed turkey filled the house with a heavenly aroma while Mrs. Matheson, herself, busily decorated the last of the gingerbread men. Katrina, Mark's sister, was preoccupied in her bedroom trying to decide which of the six new dress she received from boyfriends she would wear.

"Oh, Mark," Mr. Matheson called up the stairway. "Are you up there?"

"I'm just finishing up getting ready, dad," Mark called back.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" Mr. Matheson asked.

Mark finished up in the bathroom and scurried down the stairs to where his father waited. "What is it, dad?"

"Can you run over to the Rogers' house?" Mr. Matheson whispered. "They're hiding the Christmas present I bought for mother, and I was hoping since you're all dressed and ready, you could run over there and get it."

"Sure thing, pop," Mark replied. "I'll run over there now."

Mr. Matheson smiled. "Thanks, Mark. Oh! And here, take this." He handed Mark a beautifully wrapped package.

"What's this?" Mark asked.

"Mr. Rogers' oldest son is in town for Christmas, on holiday break from State University," Mr. Matheson explained. "This is just a little something for him from your mother and I; we gave the rest of the Rogers' kids presents and we didn't want to leave him out."

Mark's eyes widened. Mr. Rogers' oldest son was home for Christmas?! Was this true? Brody Rogers was home from State University?! Mark gulped. He had crushed on Brody Rogers for the better part of his teenage years. Three years older than Mark, Brody had been a gorgeous, strapping young man when he graduated from Madison High School. Mark could only imagine what he must look like now, a junior at State University.

"Uh, yeah, sure thing, pop," Mark said, taking the package. "I'll head over there now and give this to him."

"And, don't forget to bring back your mother's present, of course," Mr. Matheson said.

"Of course!" Mark replied with a smile.

Mark grabbed his coat and was out of the house in a hurry, eager to dash over to the Rogers' house with the hope he'd have the chance to see Brody. Over the neighborhood, freshly fallen snow had covered the houses and yards, creating the merriest of winter wonderlands. The colored lights lined the frosted windowpanes of the white frame houses, festive Christmas trees stood in all the front windows, and it seemed that the aroma of delectable holiday feasts wafted from every home. Trundling along with the package, Mark grinned to himself. He loved the Christmas season - the anticipation, the merriment. And now, with the thought of seeing Brody for the first time in years, Mark couldn't help but think this chance meeting would be his greatest of Christmas presents.

Mark knocked on the front door when he reached the Rogers' house. After a brief moment, Mrs. Rogers answered. "Well, if it isn't Mark Matheson," she said with a warm smile. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Rogers," Mark replied.

"What can I do for you? Have you come to collect your mother's gift?"

"Yes, ma'am," Mark replied.

Mrs. Rogers opened the door for him. "Oh! Now, do come in, you'll catch a death of cold standing out there for too long."

Mark entered the house and immediately he could smell Mrs. Rogers' Christmas turkey roasting in the kitchen. The house was warm and felt wonderful after the outside snow.

"So, I had my husband take your mother's present down to the den, it is awfully heavy so you may need some help getting it up the stairs. Do you know what it is?" Mrs. Rogers asked.

Mark shook his head, "No, ma'am."

Mrs. Rogers let out a laugh. "I'm terribly jealous; the size and the weight of it suggests possibly a new sewing machine. I'm hoping Mr. Rogers will give me a new sewing machine for Christmas."

"Yes, ma'am," Mark replied.

Mrs. Rogers looked at the present in Mark's hands. "And what have you got there now?"

Mark held out the gift for her. "It's from my mother and father; my dad said that Brody is home for the holiday and he asked me to bring him this."

Mrs. Rogers beamed. "Well isn't that wonderful? How thoughtful. Yes, Brody is home for Christmas, we're so happy to have him with us. You know, why don't you give it to him yourself, after all the gift is from your family. And after, Brody can help you with your mother's present."

Mark grinned with excitement. This couldn't have gone better if he'd planned it himself.

"Your mother's gift is in the den, and coincidentally that is where Brody is now," Mrs. Rogers explained. "Oh dear, I'm afraid he's been down there for over an hour now horsing around with that weight bench of his. You run on down there and have him help you with your mother's gift. I've got to hurry back to my turkey."

Mrs. Rogers hurried back into her kitchen and Mark watched as the door swung closed behind her. He let out a small breath. His heart was beating faster now, and his face was beginning to flush. His hands were sweating over the gift wrap of Brody's present.

Quietly, slowly, he descended the staircase leading down to the Rogers' den. He heard the clinking of the weights. Was Brody working out? What a treat it would be to see him pumping iron, to watch him flex and have the opportunity to swoon and admire his body up close. Mark swallowed, holding his breath. If there was any chance he still had any Christmas wishes left, he wished to catch Brody in a sleeveless undershirt.

When Mark reached the bottom of the staircase, he froze. His jaw dropped, his mouth agape. In the center of the den, stood Brody; shirtless, pink and pumped from his workout, he was an adonis. Mark watched in wonder as Brody griped the dumbbells tightly, his body gleaming from sweat as he alternated his bicep curls. Mark could feel his balls tighten as his eyes poured over Brody's taut, muscular body; he could only imagine the good tidings that hid in Brody's charcoal-colored sweatpants.

Mark watched as Brody curled, his biceps bulging, his magnificent chest pumped out. The strain was apparent in Brody's face as he lifted each weight, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched. After a few more reps, Brody was spent and lowered the weights. Placing them on the ground, he bent over and gave Mark a glimpse at the most incredible ass he had ever seen. Mark's mouth began to water. He cleared his throat and Brody looked back at him.

It took him a minute, and then finally. "Mark?" Brody asked. "Mark Matheson? Hey, buddy, what's up?"

Brody stood up tall and walked over to Mark. Flushed and embarrassed, Mark tried to speak. "He-he-hey, Brody!"

Brody smiled at him. Right then and there, Mark could have melted into a puddle on the floor of the Rogers' den. Brody's smile, not only perfect and intoxicating, was genuine and adorable. "I haven't seen you in forever, pal!" Brody, still wearing his lifting gloves, held out his hand. Mark took it, and before he knew it was happening, Brody pulled him in and gave him a quick hug.

Mark closed his eyes in the embrace. However brief, he lost himself in Brody's arms. He brought a hand to Brody's back and felt the lean muscle. He caught the scent of his sweat and savored the moment. Brody gave him a pat and released him. "It's great to see you, what brings you here?"

Mark, still reeling, paused for a moment. "Uh, uh, I'm-I'm here to pick up my mother's Christmas gift."

"Oh yeah, right," Brody replied. "I think my mom was saying it's around here somewhere."

Mark remembered the gift in his sweaty palms. "Oh! And I'm here to give you this! It's from my parents. Merry Christmas!" Mark held out the package for Brody.

"Gee whiz, for me? Really?" Brody exclaimed. "Far out! Thank you!"

He took the package from Mark. There was an awkward pause between he two of them, a gap in the conversation where neither of them knew what to say next. Mark stood there, forcing himself not to stare at Brody's smooth, muscular chest. He locked his eyes forward, focusing on Brody's face despite his urging to gape at the two, pink, perfectly-formed nipples that teased him relentlessly.

Finally, "So how are things going at State University?" Mark asked, relieved that such a thought came to him in this desperate moment.

Brody let out an exaggerated sigh. "It's going great! A lot of work, but I'm keeping my head above water, for the time being..." he laughed.

Mark grinned.

"But it's nice to be home for the holidays," Brody said.

"I'll bet," Mark replied. "How long are you home for?"

"Three weeks." Brody said. "And then I head back. But for now, it's good to be home, see the family, enjoy seeing old friends." He smiled his gorgeous, infectious smile.

Mark couldn't get over him, how incredible he looked, how his brown eyes sparkled, how his thick, sandy blonde hair was adorably disheveled, how fit and strong he was as he stood there, dominating the quiet room.

"So, listen, I was just finishing up my workout," Brody said. "But, I've got another set to do, you mind giving me a spot?"

Mark blinked. "A spot...?"

"Yeah, you know, help me out. Make sure I don't kill myself," Brody laughed.

Mark shrugged. "Sure, no problem." He would have done anything if it meant remaining in the den with Brody for even a few minutes more.

"Great, thanks! Come on over here," Brody said, placing the gift on the side table and heading back to the bench.

He sat down on the bench and tightened his gloves. Mark admired Brody's tight stomach that glistened with perspiration. Brody had gotten a lot bigger in the three years since he graduated from Madison. Had he been lifting since then? If so, it showed and he'd never looked better. Mark would have given anything right there to cover Brody's body in kisses.

"Ok," Brody said. "All you got to do is stand by my head, at the top of the bench. Place your hands gently underneath the barbell, and guide it down. You don't need to touch it or help lift or anything, just be there in case I can't lift it back onto the rack. You got it?"

Mark nodded. "Sure, no problem."

Mark stood where Brody had instructed and held his hands out just underneath the barbell. Brody leaned back and lie down on the bench. Mark licked his lips as he gazed at Brody's moist flesh, exploring the muscle and admiring the definition.

Brody lifted his arms and placed his gloved hands tightly on the barbell. Mark couldn't help but regard Brody's perfect tufts of dark underarm hair. Mark was smitten, soaking up Brody's flawless, masculine physique.

"Ok," Brody said as he lifted the barbell from it's cradle.

His arms tightened and flexed. Mark could see the tension in Brody's arms. Brody lowered the barbell down toward his chest, and quickly pushed it back up, his chest - pumped and glowing. Mark followed the bar with this hands.

As Brody pumped the iron, Mark fantasized. How wonderful would it be if this could last? If Brody was his — all his and his alone. How Mark could help him with his workouts, and when Brody was finished, he would rub him down, soothe his sore, overworked muscles, massaging his neck, his shoulders, and work down his back, around to his chest and caress his large pectorals. Brody would recline in a soft chair as Mark soothed him, going farther down to his thighs, and then slowly, very, very slowly, he would nuzzle into Brody's groin. Brody would exhale, letting out a sigh of relief, as Mark would pull out Brody's manhood from his pants, and ever so gently place his mouth over the thick, large appendage between Brody's legs. Mark was becoming dizzy at the thought.

After a while, Brody's breath began to get heavy as he lifted the barbell. His lower back began to lift from the bench, his abdominals tight, and every muscle in his body flexing. Slowly and carefully, he lowered the barbell into the cradle. He let out a breath and lowered his arms, stretching out his brawny chest.

"Nice," he said, raising himself up from the bench. "Thanks for that."

Mark smiled. "No problem, happy to help."

Brody stood up and began to swing his arms back and forth. His pump was intense, his chest and arms buffed up, flushed with color, and swole. Mark could feel his hard-on forming.

"Hey, so should I open this now? Or should I wait until tomorrow?" Brody asked, gesturing to the package on the table.

Mark paused. "Um, I'm not sure, actually." He replied. "I suppose you could open it now."

"Great!" Brody replied. He turned the package over, running his fingers underneath the ribbon. "It's wrapped so nice, I hate to tear it up," he joked. Brody pulled at the ribbon but it didn't give. "It's pretty tight, whoever wrapped this didn't want it opened," he laughed. He tried it again but still the ribbon didn't break.

"Oh man, I must have overworked myself," he said laughing.

Mark stepped forward. "Here, let me help you with your package."

Both of them froze, their eyes locked. Mark couldn't believe what he had just said, how he'd said it, and now he could feel his face turning red. Brody's eyes dropped and he gave Mark a slow once over. Something about his look sent a thrilling sensation down Mark's body. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight.

Brody licked his lips. "You want to help me with my package?" He asked quietly. "Is that what you said?"

Mark didn't move. He just stood there staring at Brody, staring into his intense eyes. "Ye-yes."

Brody turned and tossed the gift box back onto the nearby table, and immediately swung back to face Mark. "Ok," he replied. "If you want to help me with my package, why don't you come on over here and help me then?" He ran his thumbs along the waistband of his sweatpants and gave it a snap.

Mark blinked, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. He tried to speak, but only nonsensical sounds came from his mouth.

Brody's face softened. His hard, intense stare melted into the boyish, adorable face Mark had crushed on just moments before. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I understand," he said. His eyes twinkled with mischief. "But, if you're up for it, I wouldn't mind some help. With my package."

Slowly, an eager smiled spread across Mark's face. If it weren't for the task at hand, Mark could have stood there all day, lost in Brody's deep, beautiful eyes. He inched forward, closer to Brody. Brody stepped closer to Mark.

Again, Mark could smell the sweet fragrance of Brody's sweat and his head began to swim. Brody opened himself up to Mark, his warm body waiting, welcoming him. Mark brought his hands up and placed them softly on Brody's chest. His body pulsed at the touch, the feeling of Brody's smooth but strong muscle. His fingertips trembled over Brody's soft, unblemished skin. He could feel Brody's warm breath on his ear.

Mark turned his head up toward Brody and in one swift, passionate moment, Brody swept his arms around Mark as the two of them kissed. Mark could feel himself become weightless as Brody held him in his arms, their lips locked.

Brody was an amazing kisser. Their tongues united and massaged one another with fierce but gentle motion. Without breaking from their kiss, Brody pulled off his gloves and tossed them aside. Free, Brody's strong hands moved all along Mark's back, his sides, and rested on his waist.

Mark freed himself from Brody's embrace just enough to step back and admire the musculature before him. Now inhibited and free to gaze, his eyes poured over Brody's body, his broad shoulders, his beefy arms. Mark grabbed Brody's wrists and brought them up, over, and behind his head. Brody smiled and flexed for Mark. Mark placed his mouth over the strong bicep and began to kiss and lick Brody's flesh. Mark delighted in the salty sweetness of Brody's skin, traced his tongue all the way down toward the pit where he licked and savored the strong, masculine flavor.

Brody dropped his head back and basked in the pleasure of Mark's body worship. Every nerve in his body was alive as Mark's tongue continued to trace down along his side and down toward his lower abdominals.

Mark got down on his knees, before Brody, and gently kissed his firm, flat stomach as a large, bulging appendage pressed through the sweatpants and into Mark's chin. Brody's hand came to the back of Mark's head and he ran his fingers through, mussing up the freshly combed hair.

Mark's fingertips came up and over the waistband of Brody's sweatpants. The contact made Brody quiver and he let out a soft sigh. Slowly, but deliberately, Mark began to pull down Brody's sweatpants. The sight of Brody's freshly groomed patch of pubic hair enticed Mark further as he lowered Brody's pants. He zeroed in on the firm tube of flesh, pressing against the waistband, determined to be freed. Mark salivated. Finally, the pants cleared, and out popped Brody's thick, massive throbber.

Mark leaned back to take in the glorious sight. Brody's dick was enormous and indescribably beautiful; a perfect piece of hot flesh standing straight out as two heavy, perfectly-formed balls hung below. The package between Brody's legs was without a doubt the greatest Christmas present Mark could have ever received. And he had never before been more eager to receive.

Relying on nothing but intuition and sexual instinct, Mark obediently opened his mouth and allowed Brody to insert his cock inside. As Brody pushed himself past Mark's open lips, Mark met Brody's penis with his tongue, and guided him into the warm, moist cavern.

Brody released a sigh of relief as Mark closed his lips softly around his rigid johnson. The feeling of a warm, hungry mouth enveloping his manhood was beyond satisfying and it wasn't until Mark began to suck him that he felt his toes curl inside his tennis shoes. Initiating a slow and gentle rhythm, Mark began to suck his cock, his head moving back and forth as his lips massaged repeatedly over his girthy length.

"That feels so good," Brody whispered.

Elated to hear these words, Mark looked up at Brody as he sucked his cock. Brody's eyes were closed, he was lost in the sensual pleasure of Mark's mouth. Determined to deliver, Mark continued to slobber over Brody's hard-on, sucking on it like nothing before. Mark wasn't at all surprised to find such gratification, such pleasure from sucking dick. The feel of a thick, hard cock in his mouth was calming, and the act of sucking, itself, was not only arousing, but satiating. It didn't hurt, of course, that this particular cock belonged to Brody, the sweet, strapping young man from down the street. Mark stared up at Brody's burly chest as he sucked on his pacifier, watching the deep breaths pump his chest in and out. He brought his hands up and rested them on Brody's pecs, giving the muscles a gentle squeeze. Never in a million years would he have dreamed that one day, on Christmas Eve of all days, would he be on his knees sucking the dick of the most beautiful man in Chestnut Falls.

"I need you to stop for a second or I'm going to nut," Brody whispered. "Come here."

Reluctantly, Mark pulled Brody's dick from his mouth. Brody grabbed Mark by his arms and pulled him up and walked him over to the weight bench. Brody grabbed at Mark's sweater and pulled it up and off. Quickly and furiously, Brody unbuckled Mark's belt and pulled his pants down around his ankles. Mark was at full-mast himself.

"Bend over on the bench," Brody ordered.

Eager to please, Mark placed one foot on the bench, the other steading himself on the ground, bent over and readied himself for Brody's ultimate domination. He placed both hands on the barbell, griping tightly, ready for the pain Brody's massive flesh-cannon would cause him.