The Vacation House

The sun streaming into my bedroom hits me in the face. There's no better alarm clock than having no curtains on your windows. It's something that Dad and I are going to get to soon, well that and a million other things that need tending too.

"Pat, pat, pat."

Dad's footfalls and a light shuffling sound out in the hallway cause me to grab my morning stiffened penis. Turning my head toward the door, I see it crack open just a bit. Dad looks in at me while I pretend to still be asleep. I hold my dick tight in my left hand, laying on my left side, fear inside of my stomach as I try to make no movement. Praying that he will not notice my excited member or that I am faking sleep.

My door slowly closes and the gentle shuffle of footsteps trails off as Dad heads into the kitchen. On my back now, I rub myself into a frenzy and an orgasm. Well, that didn't take too long. Reaching over the side of the bed, picking up the T-Shirt that was worn last night only to wipe up the mess that is made this morning.

Coffee, the fantastic smell of coffee filters in. Sitting up, my feet planted on the cool floorboards. My muscles in my arms flex as I push myself up from the mattress. Shuffling over to the dresser, grabbing a pair of jeans, boxer briefs and Rangers T from the drawers filled with clean cloths.

As I toss the cloths on the foot of my bed, grab the top sheet and pull it up to the pillows in an attempt to make the bed kinda look made, well, just.

Out into the hallway and just as quickly into the spare bathroom.

Click.

The door jam latches behind me. Turning the handle of the shower to the usual position, cascading streams of cold water covers my arm. Goose bumps pop up all over my nakedness. Grabs my semi-hard friend, a long stream of piss gushes out and splashes into the toilet.

Steam fogs the mirror over the toilet and vanity. Stepping into the hot water, the smell of Ivory soap fills my mind. Eyes closed, water pounding on my crew cut cropped head only to run in rivulets down my body and swirl into nothingness of the shower drain.

Cool air replaces the comforting hot water, my feet step out of the shower and are met by the deep plush shower mat.

The weight of my Terri-Cloth towel embraces my glistening nakedness. Quick rubbing, the friction of cloth against skin sends tingles of youthful physical emotions to every corner of my body.

Teeth brushed, face shaved, deodorant on, Nivea face cream smoothed over my face and neck. A quick handful of Shower to Shower padded between my butt cheeks and under my balls. My morning ritual is nearly complete.

Into the hallway once again, bedroom door closed behind me, I grab my clean pair of black boxer brief, lift one leg, place my foot into the opening, switch standing legs and repeat the process.

Walking out into the hallway and heading toward the kitchen, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee gets my senses to peak.

There was the opened Newspaper, two coffee cups, toasted English Muffins. No more Donuts for us. Were home now, so English Muffins and Olivio are the standard breakfast of champions these days.

The feel of my jeans covered backside sliding over the smooth wooden bench to my place at the table tingles me a little down there again. Not that I really need much to get me to tingle. Seems to happen at just about the touch of anything these days. Don't even get me going how it feels when I get checked into the boards during a hockey game or scrimmage. I have been left with a raging hard on at some of the most inappropriate times.

Wolfing down the English Muffin, gulp down my first cup of coffee. I reach over and grab the coffee pot and pour first Dad's cup full of nearly black brew and then top off my mug.

Not a word, not a sound, pretty much the norm.

Dad's left hand and then his arm slide toward me on the table. Something is obviously hidden under his huge paw cause I can hear the sound of something being slipped against the surface of the scrub wooden table-top.

His huge hand concealing something, the side of the newspaper folds itself toward the table without the hand to support it.

Looking up, looking directly at Dad's dark eyes as they gaze directly at his own paw.

My own eyes follow the direction of his gaze only to be met by his now upturned calloused hand.

Keys, a few keys on a key ring with a fob in the shape of a Hockey Stick and puck. I look back up at him and am met by a sheepish smile. Bright, devilish, playful, nearly kid like..

He pushed the keys toward me, nods his head up once urging me to take them.

My head tips slightly to the right, eyes shifting from Dad's expression of anticipation, then to the key's and back to that Cheshire Cat grin.

My fingers touch the cool key fob, closing over it and lifting the keys. I look carefully at them, recognize the age warn keys to Dad's Pick-Up, my house key and the keys to Mom's house in Rhode Island and the key to my locker at the rink.

I look up at Dad again, not fully comprehending what this was all about. Why had he given me a set of keys to his truck along with this great new key ring and fob?

"Robbie, I was hoping that you would be able to give me a ride into work today, couldja kiddo?"

"HUH"

"Yeah, well since you're the only one in the house at the moment that has a vehicle, I am hoping you could return the favor of all those years of my driving you here, there and everywhere on earth."

"But, why can't you drive me and I take the bus to practice like I always do?"

The silence between us was deafening. My face suddenly flushed, a shudder of excitement ran from the top of my head, right down to the tips of my toes.

"Dad, are you telling me that the truck is MINE now?"

"Sometimes it surprises me at how long it takes such a brilliant young man to figure out the most simple of situations. Of course the truck is yours.. I wouldn't be caught dead with some dumb assed Hockey Stick as a watch fob. I'd never hear the end of it from the guys on the job. Just think of me, this over the hill ole man trying to play some young man's game. No way kiddo. Those keys are yours."

"Dad, what about you? Now you don't have a truck! I guess I can drive you to work every day on my way to the Rink, but then I start school again in a week and a half. I don't have to be there until my first class at 8:30. Wait, I get it, I'll just get up a little earlier and drop you off and,,,,,,"

"Come on, are you really that dense? I know you are great at Hockey but have you taken a few too many pucks to the head boy? After you drop me off at the site this morning, Mr. Townsend has agreed to drive me to the dealership where he purchased his truck cause he gets discounted prices on the fleet of used trucks that we use on the jobs."

"All right, I get it now. DUH!"

Placing the key, my key into the lock of MY OWN truck is one of the most exciting things that I have ever experienced. That is until sliding myself behind the wheel, putting the key in, turning and the feeling of the engine coming to life.

"Slam."

"All right there Robbie, she's all yours. We'll go down to the DMV this weekend and transfer the title, registration and I will call the insurance company and have it put into your name."

Tears burn my eyes, vision blurs as I turn and reach over to hug Dad. His return embrace is warm, and real. My head falls on his shoulder, tears stream down my cheeks, staining his white T-Shirt.

His gently lips kiss the top of my head, he pushes me upward and toward the drivers side.

"OK there big fella, enough of that, we both have a big day ahead of us. Let's get this buggy on the road."

Gravel pelts the underside of the fender-wells, traction catches as stone and asphalt meet. Wind blows in through the driver-side window that rolled all the way down. Daring not to take my eyes off the road for a second, I look up to the rear view mirror, barely catching a glimpse of the smile that is chiseled onto Dad's face. Pride, joy and happiness. I feel so big inside.

"Click, click, click," the turn signal purrs, stops, the wheels of the truck leave the asphalt of the well paved road and bounce on the dirt drive-way of the job site.

"Alright kiddo, I'll see you this eve. I might be a little late so I'm going to pick something up for dinner. Just do me a favor and do some laundry for us will you? I'm just about out of skivvies."

"Will do, thanks Dad, I promise, I'll take great care of your, I mean my truck."

"Slam"

Pulling out of the job site and driving my very own vehicle was so exciting, I realize that Dad is probably watching me so I drive as slow as some little ole lady, well at least until I am sure I am well out of his site.

Slowing down, speed bump causes some squeaking and thump. Pulling into the farthest parking space from the entrance of the rink. Don't want anyone scratching or bumping into us. Pride fills me as I step out of the driver's side, close the door, lock it.

Off in the distance, Tag walks from the departing city bus. Hockey bag dragging behind him, nearly as big as he is and that sure is saying something. The bulky size continues walking toward the rink, stops, adjusts the direction, begins walking toward me.

The squeak of the handle to the cap echo's in the early morning quiet. The birds chirping, the sound of wheels against the paved drive, Tag approaches with a broad smile, stops, extends his free hand with closed fist as we exchange nugs.

"No bus this morning? Howdja get the ole man to let you take his truck?"

"Didn't, decided to drive my truck to the rink this morning, that's all."

"What? what are you going on bout R.J.? I recognize your Dad's truck, been in it enough times when your Dad gave me a lift home after practice. So come on, spill."

"For real man, it's mine.. Dad gave it to me this morning. MINE! Do you believe this? You're not gonna have to take the bus any more. I'm gonna come and pick you up and drop you off on my way."

"Dude, that's so cool! I'm saving up for wheels of my own but gotta tell you, with the rink going up all the time with ice time, looks like the only wheels I'm gonna be able to afford is a Hot Wheel."

"Sorry Tag, I didn't mean to laugh. I'm with you, I couldn't afford the front tires after my salary is doled out to the Rink, gear and all. Heck I can hardly keep myself in sticks."

"Yeah know R.J. if you learned how to skate faster, you might not get checked as often. A few less broken sticks and bones maybe too."

Tag's big arm wraps around my shoulder, we walk toward the rinks entrance. Super proud buds of the first of us to have wheels of their own.

"Hey, R.J. how bout we truck pool to classes, that is, I'll swing you a few bucks a week, make coffee for the ride to help offset gas and stuff. What do you think about that? Bet we can both save a few extra here and there for date nights."

"Great! You didn't have to ask but thanks so much for offering. We can keep a can in the truck for gas money, works for you? Works for me."

Every inch of my body ache's. What a rough scrimmage. With the guys coming back to campus this week prior to first classes at the new University, I hardly imagined that the hoard of Canadian's that come down here to school would be so damned big. Freshmen too! I mean BIG! Don't think one of them was under 6'1 or less than 190 lbs. What the hell do they feed them up there? TREE'S?

Tag comes running out of the doors of the Rink, I meet him half way across the parking lot, having gotten out of the showers a bit before him.

"Squeak, thump, squeak." Seeing Tag open, toss his bag into the bed and close it again. "Slam"

"OK Kemosabe, Tonto ready to ride off into the sunset."

Tag burst out into a fit of laughter at his own joke. It's infectious, I laugh whole hardheartedly. Life is good, no life is great! What more can I ask for?

"Thanks R.J., appreciate the ride."

"No prob man. See you in the AM, K?"

"See yah when I see yah Kemosabe."

"Slam"

The road feels smoother than it has ever felt before. Air rushing in every open window of the pick up, freedom, happiness, pride. I hardly believe this is my life right now.

Gravel growls as the tires of the truck come to a complete stop in front of the right garage door. Keys jingle as they are pulled from the ignition. The front door of the house swings open at the turn of the knob in my hand. Looking back over my shoulder at my "SILVER, yeah, that is what I am gonna call her, SILVER! The Lone Ranger, Silver and Tonto... Me, Kemosabe."

Keys clink as they come in contact with the glass coin dish on my dresser top.

Rounding up the piles of dirty towels, cloths, socks, underwear from all around the bedrooms and baths, down the basement stairs, stuffing all of the dark's into the washer. Pours in a cup of Liquid Clear All, some Downy fabric softener, turn the nobs, the water fills the tub of the Westinghouse White Washer as the lid closes.

In the basket of separated dirty laundry, spies a pair of Dad's white boxers. Not soiled or anything like that, just can tell they have been worn. Picks them up, rubs the soft cotton fabric against my cheek. Holds the bunched up fabric to my nose, breath in deeply. The unmistakable scent of Dad. A hard on pushes against the inside of my nylon gym shorts. The tenting looks huge! Damn did it grown since this mornings jerk off?

Throws myself full force onto my poorly made bed. The sun streaming in through the open windows has heated the top sheet and mattress. It feels so damn good against my sore back. Fingers slip under the elastic waist band, push downward. Rigid dick freed to breath in fresh air. Fingers wrap tightly around the hard flesh. Up, down, up down, up... Drifting into darkness, warmth, the feeling of falling. Lights, different colored lights as I fall faster and fast past them. Colors begin to streak, blur from one to the next.

Feet hit hard ground in a running motion. It's so damned hard to move. Can't figure out why it feels like I'm running through marshmallows! Arms stretched out wide, the marshmallow leaves my feet, floating, flying only a few feet above the ground but I'm flying. Everyone around me, who the heck are all of these people anyway? All watch in amazement as I fly. I always knew I could fly, here I am doing it and everyone can see that I am able to and they can't.

Wind begins whipping around me. Flying is becoming more and more difficult. Flying higher that before just trying to get above what ever is causing this sudden storm. Rumbles of thunder off in the distance. Vibrations causing me to loose altitude, feet again running as quickly as they can trying to hold off from touching down on the ground again. Try's to stay aloft but only inches from the ground. Arms flapping, nothing helps.

"BANG."

Laying there on my back, the damp grass presses against me. Sunlight blinding me, turns my head to try to avoid the burying light as it attempts to force it's way through my eyelids. The ground shakes, shakes forcefully, fear wells up in my stomach, head goes dizzy.

"Robbie, ROBBIE, come on kiddo, wake up.. Have something I think you are gonna like... Hey, get up lazy bones.."

Eye's opening, focus not exactly perfect. Dad's formidable silhouette in front of me by less than a arms length. I jump up so quickly that I scare the hell out of myself.

"WHAT"

"It's OK Robbie, just me.. You must have dozed off before you got the wash in. Still have one of my shorts in your hand. Get up and throw a load in the wash for me will yah fella, then meet me outside. Come on, got a surprise for you and I'm going to need your muscles."

Aware of what Dad had just seen and said, total embarrassment fills my head. Stomach drops to the floor. Jumping up, running down the hallway, down the basement stairs. Opens up the lid to the washer, the cycle has completed already. Toss the boxers in, pour in soap right from the bottle, turns the dial to start, the washer comes to life again.

Up the stairs, through the kitchen, out into the garage. Hits the door switch, garage door opener roars to life lifting the white aluminum door with it. Light floods into the darkened garage as the opening grows from the ground up.

Awe strikes as the massive Platinum Silver 2014 Dodge Ram 3500 Heavy Duty 4X4 Pick-Up becomes completely visible. Sunlight still shining brightly in the early August evening bounces off of the magnificent metallic finish. Eyes drawn upward, Cab lights line the top of the truck. A huge growling grill as if a mad bull dog snarling at me.

Looking over toward Dad's old pick-up, he's leaning against the drivers door of the old girl.. Of my "SILVER!" Arms crossed and a shit eating grin on his face.

Stunned, my feet make their way out of the garage, toward the most beautiful beast I have ever laid eyes on. It's huge, towers well above my height. Not a scratch on her. She knows she is home and that she's proud to be protecting her domain...

Silver sits next to her, Dad still leaning against her. The two seem to be very proud of the new addition to the family. No jealousy on "Silver's" part, she is the proud best friend of this new behemoth.

My feet continue to move me from the front, around the drivers side, the back tail gate, my hand reaches out and touches the trim of the blackened windows of the matching fiberglass bed cap. It is a true thing of beauty. Continuing around to the passenger side, I'm abruptly met by the equally massive body of Lee Townsend.

It becomes apparent to me that while I was dreaming in my bedroom, the rumbling of thunder was actually the Harley Davidson. There is so much masculinity surrounding me, that I feel a little feminine. This is the first and hopefully the very last time that I ever feel like this.

The outstretched huge dark brown manicured hand of Lee Townsend presents itself before me. My hand clasps his, shakes. I am drawn close to him by his other hand as it pats my back.

"Robbie, Lee is here to help us with a few things I picked up today. If you look in the back of my truck, you will see we have some work ahead of us."

Hands now released from each other, turning toward the blacked out windows of the cap, hand firmly placed above my brows, peering into cavernous depths of the trucks bed, boxes and boxes with IKEA and and arrows all pointing skyward fill the 8" long covered cave.

Dad walks to the tailgate of the NEW truck, inserts a key into the right cap lock, then the left cap lock, yet another key inserted into the tailgate lock.. WOW, this puppy is like Fort Knox! Screaming, lights flashing, Beep, Beep, Beep..

"Sorry about that, not use to this new alarm system yet. Have to deactivate it even with all of these safety locks in place."

The cap handles are turned, they are quiet and don't squeak the way MY Silvers does, but I kind of take that as a bit of pride. Silver shows her loyalty, her years of service to Dad. This big beauty has a way to go to earn that kind of trust and loyalty to her. Yep, it might take a whole week long this beautiful thing.

The tail gate is lowered, Lee hops up in one leap, hands fumble with a blue tie down strap that stretches across the back of the stacked boxes. Each end of the tie down is S hooked into a permanent tie down loop on the wall of the bed.

Looking directly at Lee's ma-gumbo sized ass, his heavy balls sag heavily in the black leather pants that encases his muscular form. I am telling you, it is like being presented with a Filet Mignon after having not eaten for weeks.

NOPE, not going to look, not going there. Dad has made things perfectly clear to me that there would be repercussions if anything else were to happen. Here on the very day that Dad presents me with my own truck. NOPE, not now, not ever. Look away Robbie, look away before your eyes burn a hole in the backside of his leather clad butt.