What a difference a week can make. Last week, I could sit outside in my robe, untied and open, with nothing on underneath. This week it is too cold for that until the morning sun rises to warm the day! So I sat at the kitchen table in a pair of boxers, my dick peeping out through the fly as I drank my cup of coffee with a shot of Baileys, watching the morning news on the portable TV when my phone rang.
"Hey Matt, what's up?" I asked, recognizing his name and number on the screen.
"Good morning, Dad! What's on your agenda today?"
"The usual son. I never know until the sun has risen and the ranch workers tell me what happened overnight. I had planned to work on the engine of the Farmall, but my parts didn't arrive yesterday, so now I don't know. Why? What's on your mind?"
"Michael is with me. We were thinking, since this is our day off together this month and because we had such a good day together the day before yesterday, maybe you and Angel would go with us."
"Where?" I asked.
"At your place. Down at Foggy Bottoms. We were thinking about pond fishing for some of those catfish you stocked Foggy Bottoms with."
Foggy Bottoms is nothing more than a spring-fed pond about five acres between two large hills covered in cactus on rocky terrain. With little sunlight in the early mornings, it usually is foggy in appearance, and, well, it is at the bottom of the hills. Hence, Foggy Bottoms. I do keep it stocked with catfish, however.
"You and Michael are already on your way? At this hour? Damn, it's early! But I suppose we could go. You'll need to call Angel and ask him..."
"We figured you would do that. I mean, he is like your bitch and all. We're sure if you tell him that's what we're doing, then there won't be a problem. We all know you control him, Dad." Matthew had cut me off, and his tone and choice of words surprised and startled me!
"My bitch? I, um, well.."
"Yes, Dad. Your bitch. Angel hasn't had a job in nineteen years, and he suddenly went to work for you, doing shit he has no idea how to do. Angel is your bitch. It's ok to admit it. I mean, so that you know, Michael is my bitch, and he is ok with that!"
I could hear Michael over the phone's speaker say, "Bitch hih? I've got a bitch for you! Right between my legs!"
"Exactly!" Matthew said, laughing, "It's that ass pussy of yours!"
"Fuck you!" Michael shot back!
This particular line of banter was new for the three of us to be engaged in, but it was getting my dick hard and amusing, so I went with it. We were no strangers to hard-core use of profanity words, but ass pussy? I've never heard Matthew say that to his brother before!
"You boys must have eaten your Wheaties this morning! You both sound full of energy!" I said.
No sooner had I made my last statement before the main gates notification went off on my phone and the house monitor.
"Open the gate, Dad, we are here!" Matthew said, his voice echoing through the phone and the intercom to the gate.
Still sitting in my open boxers with my pee-pee peeking out, both boys walked in wearing fishing attire and carrying kolaches and donuts.
Michael said, "We knew you would have hot coffee."
Tamny entered simultaneously, dressed to impress her customers at the Hospital's gift shop, and said, "Dean, get dressed. My goodness, the kids are here. Hello boys. Why are you here?"
They explained their thoughts of us having donuts and fishing together for a day of relaxation, and with air kisses and tiny hugs, she said her goodbyes and breezed out the doorway. We could hear her SUV back out of the garage as we ate a donut, and they poured more coffee.
Having fun and enjoying myself, I stood up, knowing Bruiser was looking out through the open fly of my boxers, and walked to the counter, picked up some napkins, dropped them on the table, and then leaned back on the counter, exposing Bruiser more.
I called Angel's number, told him about the fishing plans and to join us soon, and that the donuts and coffee were in the kitchen.
Hanging up the house phone, I said, "He will be here in just a few minutes. Michelle and the kids are leaving now. He said that sounds like fun to him."
I caught both Matthew and Michael looking at my crotch and knew that my dick intrigued them. They have both seen it a million times, but I had a feeling today they were looking at it differently. I thought my perverted mind was running wild.
"Does that whopper ever stay put away?" Matthew finally asked.
"Why would it? It's the head of the household!" Michael joked.
I suddenly felt self-conscious, a new feeling, so I tucked Bruiser away and said, "I'm getting dressed. You winney watchers are freaking me out!"
I could hear them laughing as I walked away.
When I returned to the kitchen, Angel had arrived and was drinking orange juice and wearing new hunting clothes. His snake boots were nice but not waterproof, and I asked him, "Who does your shopping?" In true Angel fashion, he looked like a model from a magazine advertising hunting, not fishing wear.
Thirty minutes later, after a detour to the old barn to retrieve fishing poles and tackle boxes, we arrived at Foggy Bottoms.
We each took a pole and box and found a spot to drop a line. After almost two and a half hours into fishing, Matthew sent a group text saying, "Mayday. Mayday. Let's meet at the truck."
Once at the truck, Matthew and Michael told Angel and me that because the fish were not biting any better than they were, we should call it a day.
" I need a shower. I smell like fish bait and muddy water", Michael said. "And I'm hungry."
"That's because you walked through the dirty water and fell forward," Matthew said. "You always do dumb shit like that."
