A Battle For Sexuality

WARNING: WARNING: WARNING!!!

This story is very long. It is not a story for a quick jerk-off. It’s a good eighteen pages with size 10 font, so it’s a freaking monstrosity. It is NOT a porn story. I tried to make it as realistic as possible – I hope I succeeded. This is loosely based off a friend of mine, who was telling me a few weeks ago about how his neighbors helped him realize his homosexuality.

WARNING: This story involves two men having sexual interactions with a fifteen year old boy. If this turns you off, PLEASE, PLEASE, do not give me a poor rating because of it. Also, do not take points off for extremely long stories – because this is one. So, if you are looking for a fast, hot, poorly written story, look elsewhere. Thank you.

As always, look at the categories. If none of those are your thing, click the BACK button right now.





PART I


Mrs. Larks did not consider herself a nosey woman. She was blissfully unaware that her neighbors thought her a controlling, obsessive, scheming old tart with a temper like a scalded cat. Her children, two lovely young teens by the name of Timothy and Cassandra – better known as Tim and Cassie – were the delight of the neighborhood and generally balanced off Mrs. Larks nastiness. Mrs. Larks thought she was a reasonably attractive, modest, kind woman with two exceptionally beautiful children. She was right about the first thing and right about the last, but the whole concept of ‘modesty and kindness’ were nonexistent. Mrs. Larks was, in fact, a complete MILF; long brown hair, big blue eyes, and a pair of tits to die for. But her nose had a way of sniffing around people’s business and spreading gossip as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Her two children, Cassie especially, were smart, athletic, and pleasingly attractive. Cassie had inherited her fathers long, thick black hair, which she preferred to keep down but had to put it in a ponytail for her cheerleading. She was short and petite, with small B cup breasts and a pale, freckled complexion. Cassie was outgoing, cheerful, but slightly shy when around new people, which was a minor thing for Mrs. Larks. No, Mrs. Larks’s prime concern was her son, Tim, who at fifteen was slender and delicate looking, with messy brown hair and soft chocolate eyes. There was something distinctly feminine about him, and Mrs. Larks fretted that he would turn homosexual. Because in her perfect world, people with … shall we say … different tastes were shunned and whispered about. Tim, on the other hand, had yet to discover heterosexuality or homosexuality – he was too busy sketching. It was another girly attribute which Mrs. Larks tried to stifle but never succeeded in smothering completely.

Mrs. Larks treated all gays, prostitutes, alcoholics, and anybody with tattoos with extreme disdain. Mrs. Larks was a teetotaler herself, thought gays were sick, and anybody with tattoos did drugs. She didn’t shake black people’s hands – she referred to Mexican workers as “Those dirty immigrants”. So it would come as an awful shock to her when she found out that the two neighbors moving into the big, sprawling white mansion next door were a quiet gay couple.

As it was, Mrs. Larks didn’t know they were gay – she was aware that two neighbors would be moving in, because she saw an attractive black-haired man looking around the house several months ago, and then the FOR SALE sign had been taken away. Yesterday moving vans had been blocking off all traffic to the street, and Mrs. Larks felt that decidedly wicked flicker of delight that meant she would have new people to gossip with. But, of course, these people had to be deemed respectable. So what did she do, on that bright morning glazed with sunlight and fresh with summer air?

Cassie rapped on her brother’s door. “Timmy? Timmy, wake up, Mom wants me to go to the neighbors next door and I don’t want to go alone.”

There was a muffled grunt. “Don’t call me Timmy.”

“Timothy! C’mon, get up, please?” She begged. She heard two heels striking the wooden floors, and then the door opened, revealing a boxer-clad Tim with his brown curls sticking up in all directions and his eyes sleepy. “Can you come with me?” Cassie begged.

“All right, all right,” He mumbled, rubbing his hands over his cheeks, slapping awareness into his dark brown eyes. “Gimmie a minute.”

Cassie paced nervously, going into the bathroom to check herself again. At sixteen years old, Cassie had reached the stage where physical appearance was the light and the air to her. She needn’t have worried – it was a lazy, syrupy summer morning where the sun rose too early and too hot, so her cutoff shorts were warranted. An aqua blue tank top showed off her smooth, creamy skin – she took special care of it, along with her hair – and she had left her hair down, so it roiled messily around her shoulders. Her cute little breasts bounced eagerly, hemmed in only by a white cotton bra, and her plump lips were glossed with lipstick. It was a little too early for makeup, she decided, and blotted off the lip gloss, leaving the mascara.

Tim stretched, touching the ceiling with the tips of his fingers, and emerged from his bedroom, looking as though he had just rolled out of bed like a hibernating bear. A gray undershirt had been tucked into a pair of cargo shorts, and he was still messing with his unruly brown hair, tucking the curls behind his ears and trying to hide his cowlick. “C’mon, beauty queen,” He said, and Cassie grumped at him quietly, then followed him out the door.

Mrs. Larks – called Lisa only by her husband – was standing at the door with a Tupperware container of cookies in her hands. “Now, you be nice to the neighbors,” Mrs. Larks ordered. “Timothy, go upstairs and put on a shirt. Cassie, take that mascara off, it’s only ten o’clock in the morning. Tell me if they have any kids, how old they are, everything, okay?”

“Mom, we’re only going over there for a second,” Cassie protested, unwilling to take off her carefully applied makeup. Tim didn’t seem aware of anything that his mother had said, and instead grabbed the container from her hands. “Bye, Mom,” Cassie called as she bounced down the porch, long black hair dancing. Tim followed at a much more sedate pace.

Mrs. Larks retired to the upstairs hall window, where there was an eagle-eye view of the neighbor’s front porch. A pair of binoculars were on the sill – the official excuse was so she could watch the deer graze by the apple tree, but the deer hadn’t eaten the sour old apples in several years. She settled the black binoculars on her nose and peered through the glass at her two children.

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PART II

“Good morning, beautiful,”

Seth rolled over to see his lover propped up on his elbow, those alert green eyes hazy with sleepiness and lust. The two of them had spent all day packing, and they had collapsed into bed without any thought of sex or playtime, and Derek obviously wanted to remedy that. Derek’s wide, calloused palms skimmed Seth’s sides, trailing a line from his ribcage up to his shoulder. “You awake, sleepyhead?” He asked, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m up,” Seth answered tiredly, stretching his arms above his head and allowing the sheet to ride down over his beautiful tanned skin. “Tired, though. How about you?”

“Mmm. Not really,” Derek answered, and those feather light touches grew a little more determined, a little more forceful. His fingers dipped playfully into Seth’s naval, tracing the hair on his belly the wrong way. Seth’s breath caught in his throat slightly as he tried to make himself relax and absorb his lover’s determined strokes. Derek was always randy first thing in the morning, and Seth had grown long used to the wild, quick fucks grabbed either in bed or in the shower. Today, however, after an achingly long day of unpacking and a long evening of organizing, Derek seemed content just to pet and kiss.

Speaking of kisses, Derek dropped his head and began trailing open-mouthed kisses down Seth’s torso, working steadily past the hardened pectorals and down to the ridged, quivering abdominals. His fingers were everywhere – on his inner thigh, brushing against a nipple, stroking the nape of his neck, everywhere but where Seth wanted him to feel most. He moaned a little and drew even closer to his lover, and Derek rewarded him by dropping his rough hands to Seth’s cock.

Derek was a compassionate lover – generous and thorough, but he was possessive and dominating, leaving Seth to bask in the rough carpenter touches and calloused fingers slipping in and out of his ass. And today, he seemed especially willing to have a long, refreshing fuck before setting about trying to unpack all of their shit and find a place to put it. Seth bucked up as Derek began laving the inside of his thigh, painting a hot trail from the taut muscles of his groin to the outside of his knee. Seth wriggled a little and his hands clamped around a fistful of bedding. “Please, Derek,” Seth begged, unable to help himself.

He could feel Derek smirk against his inner thigh. “Please what?”

“Suck me off, asshole,” Seth growled, unable to contain his frustration any longer. Derek’s touches went up a little higher, brushing against his balls, and Seth could feel his warm breath heating the sensitized area.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Derek answered, and Seth felt a hot, talented tongue run slowly up the length of his shaft. Seth’s hips arched off the bed and he yelped a little as Derek mouthed his balls lightly. He tasted delicious, and Derek seemed determined to taste every inch of him, exploring, sucking, nibbling, but finally, finally, he drew the head of Seth’s cock into his mouth. Seth groaned and drove his hips upwards as Derek began licking around the head of his dick, paying special attention to that special spot beneath his head. And then with one long, rapid motion, the entire length of Seth’s cock was in his mouth, and Seth’s hands dropped to Derek’s unruly blonde hair, pleading for him to move, to do something.

And then he did move, lifting his head a little and then tilting back down, humming to add an extra friction, and Seth saw stars exploding in his vision. He was teetering on the brink, every muscle taut and beaded with sweat, when Derek suddenly stopped. “What?” Seth panted, desperate for his release. Derek seemed to be listening, and then Seth heard it too.

The doorbell was ringing.

“Oh, fuck,” Derek grumbled. “I bet you a hundred bucks its that nosy bitch who came snooping around the yard yesterday.”

“Ignore her,” Seth said, and pulled at Derek, wanting him to come back and finish his blowjob. “Please, Derek.” The doorbell continued, and Seth growled. “Go see who it is,” Seth snapped, pissed that he hadn’t been able to get off. Derek swung himself out of bed, but turned and pinned Seth to the bed with a dark look which was rife with desire.

“Don’t you fuckin’ move,” Derek ordered. “I wanna come back and see you all sprawled out like that, got it?”

Seth shivered and obeyed, loving the snarl in his lover’s voice.

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PART III

Cassie pranced impatiently, flicking looks behind her. “They’re not here,” Tim sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “C’mon, Cass, I’m tired. I wanna go back to bed.”

“No, they’re here,” Cassie answered, peeking around the corner of the wraparound porch. “I can see both of their cars, look.”

“Maybe they’ve decided to sleep in,” Tim yawned, and ran his hands through his hair. “I want to. C’mon, Cass, we’ll eat the cookies and say we gave them, and I can go back to bed.”

Cassie bit her bottom lip – their mother made excellent cookies.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the siblings found themselves looking at an incredibly handsome and half-dressed man. He had jaw-length blonde hair, tousled and mussed from sleep, and bright green eyes which were eyeing them with annoyance. He was tall, with a broad chest and wide shoulders, tapering to a slightly narrower waist, and his hands were large and thick with calluses. He had morning stubble, and some circles under his eyes, but as his gaze set upon Timothy and Cassie, he seemed slightly less annoyed. “Hey,” He said, and his voice was a deep, powerful rumble, edged with velvet.

“Hi!” Cassie squeaked, feeling very tiny. She shoved the contained of cookies at him. “I’m Cassie, and this is Tim, my brother, and my mom made cookies! I mean, well, our mom, haha, she’s both of our -”

“Nice to meet you,” The man replied, cutting Cassie off and saving her from rambling. The black haired cheerleader blushed scarlet and ducked her head. “I’m Derek. Seth’s upstairs, I’ll go get him. Hey, c’mon in, I can move around and see if I can find any stuff to drink coffee out of.”

Cassie and Tim stepped tentatively inside, glancing around the huge house. It was one of those antique, graceful houses which had probably been an estate at one point in time, and the old honey-colored wooden floors were creaky and drafty. Moving boxes, neatly labeled and lettered in an upward, slanting hand, were littered around, some of them empty, others half filled, and others still taped shut. It had the pleasant, rambling look of a house which was easy to get lost in, and felt larger than it actually was.

Derek checked out the two of them from behind. The girl – what was her name? Cassie? – had the cutest little pair of tits he had ever seen, and she looked adorable when she blushed. His thoughts lingered on her younger brother, though – he looked like an angel, with a slender, delicate fragility around him, big eyes fringed thickly with lashes. And Christ, he had an ass to die for. It could have been Derek’s horniness still rampaging through is system from the incomplete playing with Seth, but they both looked utterly fuckable, especially the boy.

“I’ll go get Seth,” He said, and pounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Cassie shot a look at Tim. “Did he just say Seth?”

“No, he said Steph,” Tim said, looking around. “Probably his wife. Hey, check this out!” He called, making his way into the kitchen. “Sweet place, man!”

Cassie had to admit he was right – there was a vast, shining expanse of black granite countertops, sleek stainless steel appliances, and frosted glass cabinets. There were moving boxes in here, too, but it was relatively untouched, resulting in several pieces of silverware strewn about and no chairs. Other than that, it was a beautiful kitchen. Tim ran his hands along the edge of the countertop with his long, elegant fingers. “They got some serious money,” He said to Cassie.

“Mom always said you needed to be a millionaire to buy this place,” Cassie answered, folding her arms and hugging herself tightly. She felt a little uncomfortable.

Her uncomfortable feeling multiplied by a hundred when she heard two sets of footsteps coming downstairs and two deep, masculine voices. It could be his son, she told herself, but then she saw the two men come around the corner.

They were gay.

Both of them were handsome – Derek in his raw, powerful blonde glory, and Seth in a polished, careful look. Seth seemed like the person who ironed his socks, Cassie thought to herself numbly. He had black hair, much like hers, only his was neatly cropped around his ears in a modern fashion, and he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. He put out a hand and gripped Cassie’s small, petite palm in his large hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Seth,” He said hurriedly. “Derek, do you know where we put the coffee pot?”

“Somewhere in the living room,” Derek answered, going around their butcher block table in the center of the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. “Have you guys eaten breakfast? Seth and I haven’t. Why don’t you join us?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said, a smile flicking up the corner of his mouth. Cassie felt a hot, prickling wave of fright sweep over her.

“No, Tim, we really ought to get going,” She said hastily. Derek waved at her idly.

“Nah, sit down.