Derek never seemed to mind that I spent long moments looking at his body. Except my own, of course. Trying it out, I rose above him and let the end of his cock find its way into my mouth. We kissed deeply and ground our stomachs together, breathing heavily. Mom felt the same way I did, I think, because eventually she let herself be talked into hiring a man to help us with the chores. I had released my hold on him and my arms were sort of sliding down from around his neck.
We walked down to the pond and dove in. The tone made it a request. As one hand fondled his balls from behind, my other traced the line on the horse cock stretching out before me. I think he noticed this and figured out the problem. I had never seen my father undressed. Wrapping a towel around his waist -- I'm sure for my mother's benefit, in case she was up-- he pretended to wrestle me toward the door. Neither of them seemed attracted to that way of life. His name was Derek and he was twenty-four years old. But soon we came to feel so much like family that it only seemed natural to invite him to live in the house with Mom and me. The first night he spent in my room was a revelation in itself. He never said anything profound or did anything superhuman, but the quiet consistency of his work and his ever-smiling attitude became attributes that I wanted to acquire. I even became easy with his nudity. I was careful not to look him in the eye, but my peripheral vision took in his whole body -- a great muscular tanned form lying on its back with a head propped up a pillow. He smiled and moved his head, making my next peck an off-center mouth-to-mouth. Derek was built much bigger than me, and the sight of his cock, erect and bobbing in pendulous hugeness, always filled me with sort of a vague envy as well as a vaguer stimulation. I did feel like a voyeur every morning, however. Derek put one arm around my waist, as he submitted to my touch and curiosity. Does it bother you, my not wearing a robe or something? And he would let me look and touch, to my heart's content, even when neither of us was really in the mood for a heavy session. As the steam started to fill his shaving mirror, he called to me. He probably sensed my discomfort, because he moved away and lay on his bed. But I tried hard to appear cool. His physique was really remarkable and I'm sure, added to my hero worship. That set the pattern of our nighttime conversations. Then I shifted a little closer and let my tongue play out and lick the very tip of his cock.
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