My Step-Dad Glen - Part 8
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and my best friend Peter and I were at his house while our dads and his little brother Timur were out new car shopping. Our moms were at a baby shower, and we had the house to ourselves for a few hours.
"Last one in the pool's a rotten egg" said Peter as he ran through the house toward the pool. I've always been faster than him, and I got to the pool first and kicked off my shoes and socks, then yanked my shirt up over my head. As I yanked my pants and underwear down he was just kicking off his shoes, and he suddenly ran forward and dove in fully clothed just to beat me into the water.
I dove in after him, and we laughed and played around and he threw his wet things out onto the deck. We raced each other back and forth across the pool and goofed off and generally lost track of the time. When I saw my dad and Mr. Phelps and Timur come out the den's sliding glass doors I wondered vaguely what time it was.
Feeling silly and kind of daring I pulled myself over the side of the pool, hopped up, and ran over to my dad. I threw my arms around him, soaking wet and naked, and said, "Hi, dad!" and he laughed and patted my side.
"Hey, they're naked!" said Timur as Peter got out of the pool and said hi.
"So what?" said Peter, walking over to his dad. He patted his dad's shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.
"Well mom's okay, I guess" said Timur. "But I'D never walk around naked in front of Mrs. Mitchell."
"What?" Peter and I said in unison, and as Timur pointed to the kitchen window we both saw our moms inside. It looked like they were cooking or baking or something.
"Oh, my God!" I said, and dove back into the pool. Peter did the same.
We came up and, treading water in the deep end, Peter said, "Do you think they saw us?"
"Well they've been home for a while now, son" said Mr. Phelps.
"WHAT?" said Peter.
Mr. Phelps and my dad both laughed then, and my dad said, "Yeah. I don't know how long, but from the looks of the kitchen I'd say they've been here for a while."
Just then my mom and Mrs. Phelps came outside, Mrs. Phelps carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies.
"How long have you been here?" Peter demanded.
"Maybe not quite and hour" said his mom, glancing at her watch.
"Mom!" said Peter, indignantly.
"You should have said something!" I said, equally indignant.
"Oh, honey" said Mrs. Phelps to Peter. "We both know what naked boys look like, for heaven's sake. When we got home you two were chasing around the lounging chairs and we thought you'd be embarrassed if we just walked out and announced ourselves."
I cringed inwardly. We had spent several minutes chasing each other around the deck. They must have seen everything.
"So you just watched us from inside the whole time?" said Peter, his voice angry.
"Oh, Peter, come on" said my mom. "We were baking these for you" she said, nodding at the cookies. "We know you're old enough to swim without us watching you."
"That's not the point, mom" I said. "Gosh!" I added, exasperated.
"Well, we're sorry, okay?" said my mom.
"Maybe you should make sure you're home alone the next time you decide to run around the house naked" said Mrs. Phelps.
"We WERE home alone" said Peter as she walked over to the patio table and set the tray down.
"Well come have some cookies" said my mom.
"Yeah, right!" I said, but to my amazement Peter pulled himself over the edge of the pool and hopped out -- buck naked in front of God and everyone.
"Well go ahead and have a good look!" he said, waiving his arms exasperated in the air. "I guess everyone already got the free show anyway" and he walked angrily over to the table and snatched up a cookie.
Not taking my eyes off him I pulled myself over the edge of the pool and hopped out, not really believing what I was doing and not able to look at anyone but Peter. I walked stiffly over to the cookies and only vaguely noticed how good they smelled.
As I picked one up and bit into it Peter and I looked into each other's eyes and started to giggle uncontrollably. Not only were we naked in front of both our own parents but also the other's parents as well. I felt very self conscious but also kind of freed up in a way.
Mr. Phelps mumbled something in German and I said, "What?"
"How DOES that translate?" said Peter.
"No shame or shameless" said his mom. Looking at my mom she said, "You usually say that when babies run around naked" and they both laughed.
"Feeling extra brave today, are you son?" said my dad, gently shaking the back of my neck.
"I don't know" I said, feeling a little bewildered. As long as I didn't look down at myself it was almost as though I wasn't naked.
I hadn't noticed that Mr. Phelps had ducked back into the house until he came out just then, and I jerked backward involuntarily when I saw he had a camera in his hand.
"Dad!" said Peter.
"Let's get a nice family shot" said his dad, smiling.
"Dad, put that away!" said Peter.
"Oh, come on" said his dad, lifting the camera up to his eye. I leaped behind my father for cover.
"Dad, gosh darn it!" yelled Peter. "Don't you dare, sir!" and all the adults laughed.
Mr. Phelps lowered the camera and, laughing, shook it at both of us. "It doesn't even have film, son" and the grownups laughed some more.
Standing behind my dad made me suddenly extremely self conscious, and I found myself clinging to his shoulders for cover. I started to giggle again, and so did Peter then.
"I'm gettin' back in" he said and ran for the pool.
"Hey!" said his mother. "You've just eaten."
"Just one cookie" I said, and launched myself at the pool. The grownups sat around for a while, and Timur came outside in his swim trunks and dove in. After about an hour my dad said, "Are you boys ready for dinner?"
"Sure!" I said.
"Well get dressed and we'll all go for pizza. My treat" he said.
There was a moment of awkward silence and I said, "We're not getting out until you guys leave."
"You're kidding" said my dad.
"Go on!" I said, nodding at the house. There was a general grumbling and rolling of eyes, but they all made their way in, leaving the three of us in the pool. When they were inside and we were sure they weren't looking through the kitchen window we hopped out and started to dry off.
"I can't believe you did that in front of my mother" said Peter.
"What about you?" I said, and we both laughed.
"Look at me!" said Timur, who had taken off his trunks and was standing there naked but holding a towel.
We all went out for pizza that night, and no one said anything more about it.
I guess it was that particular event that set off the events of the following weeks. Peter and I got to daring each other to do various naked things, usually if there was a chance of getting caught. One weekend while he was staying over night at my house we were supposed to be in bed asleep, but we were both restless.
"You awake?" he said.
"Yeah" I replied.
"You remember when you stayed at my house last?"
"Yeah" I said. I knew what he was referring to. We had snuck out of his bedroom, buck naked, and ran quietly though the house, out around the back yard, and then back into the house and back to his bedroom. When we got back we were giggling hysterically.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin?" I said.
"More" he said.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"Let's go all the way around the block" he whispered.
"No way!" I whispered back fiercely.
"All right then," he said, "to the corner and back." Our house was on the corner, so it was equal distance to either of the other corners on the block.
I laughed and said, "I will if you will."
"I will" he said, leaping out of his sleeping bag and yanking his boxers down and off. As he pulled his t-shirt over his head I also stripped and, naked, we cowered at my bedroom door, cracking it open to make sure my parents weren't still up.
"We have to sneak downstairs and out" I whispered. "No running."
Without another word we crept downstairs, my heart thudding the whole time. We made our way to the back door and quietly went out into the back yard. Our driveway let out on the side street, and I glanced nervously around and walked over to it (at the back of the yard).
"Hey!" whispered Peter. "You gotta start at the corner in front."
"The driveway's far enough" I whispered back.
He laughed and said, "Yeah, okay. Guess it is."
He came up next to me, shivering a little in the cool night air and said, "Ready?"
"Ready" I said.
"Go!" he said, and we took off bare foot and buck naked down the street. It had to be about midnight and there were no house lights on that I could see. My heart pounded in my chest as we neared the streetlight in the middle of the block, and we each quickly tagged the stop sign at the end and ran back. When we got back to my driveway we ducked into my backyard, laughing as quietly as possible and breathing hard.
"That was great!" whispered Peter.
"Yeah" I said.
"Oh, man" he said, and I saw him reach down and scrunch his body a bit.
"Oh, my God!" I whispered as I saw him grab his hard on.
"What?" he said, squeezing his dick. "_f_u_c_k_ you. You don't get boners?"
I laughed and said, "Yeah" and my dick went rigid, too.
"Man, I gotta do this" he said, walking over to our car which was in the driveway.
"What are you doing?" I said as he leaned on the trunk, fully exposed to anyone who happened to walk by (which wasn't likely at that hour). Without saying anything he closed his eyes, arched his back and started to jack off. "What the _f_u_c_k_ are you doing?" I hissed.
He stopped suddenly and looked at me. "Come on" he said, and motioned me over with his head.
"No way" I said, laughing, but my dick did seem to get even harder.
"Come on, hurry up while we still have the chance" he said, and I did walk over to him then.
I leaned on the trunk next to him, and shoulder to shoulder we started to jack off under the moonlight. It was perfectly quiet, and as we spit into our palms for some lube our wanking started to make a squishing noise which made us both giggle.
"Oh, man I'm close" he said and then his body started to shudder and so did mine and together we shot all over the driveway. "Oh, yeah!" he said, almost at normal volume.
"Shhhhh!" I whispered, and giggled some more. "I can't believe we just did that."
We both shook the ends of our dicks then, trying to get the last bit off the end. I shivered from the cold and Peter said, "_s_h_i_t_, we better get back inside."
We ran over to the house then and quietly opened the door. Light suddenly flared brilliantly there in the kitchen, and we both threw ourselves convulsively back against the door, each shielding our eyes with an upraised arm, shocked.
"Where the hell have you two been?" I heard my dad say in the brilliance. "And where are your clothes?"
"Oh, my God" I heard Peter say next to me as my eyes adjusted to the light.
The diningroom door suddenly swung open and we both clapped our hands down in front of our still half hard dicks as my mother came through the door. "What on earth is going on?" she asked.
"I think we have a couple of streakers" said my dad.
"Ryan?" said my mom, angrily.
My dad walked up to her, kissed her gently and said, "Why don't you go back to bed and let me handle this?"
She gave us both one last reproachful look before turning to leave. We were naked and caught, and I forced tears back down as I wondered if my dad had seen what we had just been doing out back.
"What do you have to say for yourselves?" he demanded, and he looked really mad.
"Dad" I gulped. "We were just goofing around, that's all. We weren't doing anything" I lied.
"Honestly, Mr. Mitchell" said Peter. "We were just streaking on a dare."
"Streaking WHERE?" said my father, and we both cringed at the tone in his voice. I just wanted to get out of there and get dressed, but I knew there'd be no getting passed him.
"Just once around the house" I lied. "God, dad. Can we please just go upstairs, now? It's cold."
"You're going to be warm enough in a second, kid" he said. "Both of you."
"Dad -- " I started, but he said, "Be QUIET" and I shut up.
My butt twitched in fear and anticipation. Would he really spank me naked in front of Peter? Or both of us in front of the other? Dread sunk into me because I was 99% sure of the answer.
"When you visit here I expect you to behave" said my dad, pointing at Peter.
"Yes, sir" whispered Peter. "Mr. Mitchell, you can't spank -- "
"Oh, you better believe I can, young man" said my father. "And I'm going to. Running around buck naked in the middle of the night. You want to get sick? What if a police car happened to be patrolling just as you were out on the front lawn? And what if Mrs. Kenner next door saw you? Or Mr. and Mrs. Walker across the street? What on earth were you thinking?"
"I guess we weren't" I said, trying to placate him.
He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down in it. "Which one of you is first?" he asked.
"Dad" I said. "We're sorry. Please don't do this."
"Please, Mr. Mitchell" said Peter.
Without another word my dad grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him, yanking me over his lap. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He landed 12 hard smacks on my butt. I was yelling "Ow!" by the third or fourth one, and I had just started to cry as he stopped.
He yanked me to my feet and I wiped angrily at my nose, unable to look at Peter. Without even pausing he grabbed Peter's wrist and pulled him over his lap. I had never seen anyone else in this position before, especially not over my own dad's knee, and I wondered suddenly how often Peter and his brother saw the other getting spanked.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Peter got his own 12 and was also shouting "OW!" and sniffling loudly.
We both stood in front of him rubbing furiously at our backsides, knees slightly bent, both of us facing him and not even trying to hide the tears on our faces. My dad stood up then and as he took off his belt we both started to plead in earnest.
"Quiet!" he said, and we both gulped and shut up. "Both of you grab your ankles" he said, and we both obediently bent forward where we stood and grabbed our ankles. I felt so helpless and exposed as he walked behind us.
"If I ever catch either of you like this again you better believe your butts are going to feel the strap, is that clear?" I squinted my eyes shut, dreading the first sting.
"IS THAT CLEAR?" he said, and we both started to blubber and said, "Yes, sir."
"Stand up, boys" he said, and we leaped to standing. He pulled us both to him then by the backs of our necks. He kissed my forehead and ruffled Peter's hair and said, "Go get in bed" and we both bolted for the door. "And you darn well better be dressed at breakfast!" he called as we ran through the diningroom.