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Subject: Storm Cellar – Part 4 Storm Cellar – Part 4 By Ferris ail This is fiction. If you would like to be notified when a new story or installment will be released, please email me with the name of the story. I welcome correspondence. _________________ James Fletcher was up at eleven when everyone else was asleep. This was unusual for him, but he’d been given good reason to stay up. He had a keen eye for things out of place, and although his nephew always seemed a little out of place, he’d been behaving particularly strangely for a few weeks now. He was preoccupied. He seemed to have more money. He was at work more often. He bought a pair of knit shorts his mom had denied him. James thought the kid looked great in them and might have bought them for him if he had known how nicely they’d show off his ass. When he’d come home that afternoon, his nephew’s bike was out of place. It was usually on the inside of the back fence by the garage, but it was now outside the fence. James mentioned to his nephew that it was going to rain and that he should move his bike under the back porch or into the garage, and the kid had agreed. But he never did it. And his nephew had gone to bed right after dinner having not eaten much at all, but James could tell he wasn’t asleep. As the storm rolled in around ten, James checked out the kitchen window, and the kid’s light was still on in his basement bedroom and shone through the egress window in the darkness. James was in the kitchen still when he heard the kid coming up the stairs. He turned off the kitchen light and stepped out of sight. His nephew looked around, not saying anything. In the darkness, James could make out his nice ass in his new favorite shorts. The kid stood quietly, listening as the storm picked up outside. Abruptly, he turned around and went back downstairs. James went to the window and looked out to see if the kid’s bedroom light was off. It was. But the kid was outside in the rain, hurrying to the back gate. James hurried out the back door, and he could see the kid on his bike headed east down the alley as the storm picked up. He waited out the storm on the back porch. He checked the weather periodically to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to go searching for the kid. He didn’t want to get his nephew in trouble with his mom, James’ sister. But he didn’t want the kid getting hurt either. He was a puny guy and timid. It seemed unlikely he would be brave enough to sneak out. James wondered what it was for. Drugs, friends, sex, general mischief? As the storm settled, he heard his nephew approaching and caught a glimpse of him through the fence. He wanted to scare him a little. He liked the idea of having a secret with the kid. “You know, man, you don’t have to sneak in and out of my house. You’re free to come and go as you please,” he said wryly as his nephew hid behind the garage. Silence. “Wrigley, I know you’re out there. What’s up?” A few moments later, the kid came around the corner of the garage and through the back gate, obviously wet, pushing his bike. “I’ve been… Umm… I… I went out. I’m 16. I should be able to stay out,” Wrigley started, defensively. “No one has ever given you a curfew, man. That’s why I’m curious about why you left so late without telling anyone. And in a storm.” “I went out, like I said.” “You don’t have to tell me anything. Your mom might like to know though,” James threatened. “I just went out. Don’t tell her. It’ll worry her.” Wrigley was right. His mom was way too much of a worrier. James wasn’t too eager to stay up late, and he doubted he’d get any truth from Wrigley anyway. So he relented. “You’re right. Just know you can tell us when you’re going out. And you can stay out as late as you want.” James could see Wrigley’s shoulders release. He was clearly relieved. But James was going to figure out where he’d been and what he’d been up to — just to make sure he was safe. He decided to play calm and uninterested and headed back inside as Wrigley put his bike up on the porch. James noticed the kid moving gingerly. Like he was being careful still. Was he hurt? The next morning, James was intent on seeming normal. He didn’t sleep later than usual. He was as attentive to his wife, sister, and nephew as he always was. No more, no less. ankara eve gelen escort He left for work at half past seven. But in his head, he was planning. James was a nice, respectable man. He ran the hardware store he and his sister had inherited from their parents when they retired. He took care of her when she got pregnant, helping her find work, letting her work in the hardware store when she was between jobs, and making sure she got a cut of the profits — it was her store too after all. He’d helped her get her first place on her own and helped her get ready for Wrigley when she became pregnant. She shared a good relationship with his wife, and they’d all shared responsibility for helping raise Wrigley ever since they moved in four years ago. James cared about his nephew and wanted to know what was up. He decided to do some sleuthing instead of trying to pry the truth from him, so he checked in at the grocery store after work. Wrigley was working nearly every day lately. He went to work right after school and worked until seven or eight or later. James got home from work around four and went right out, walking around the block to the pharmacy, getting a soda, and parking himself on a public bench to watch the grocery store. He saw Wrigley every few minutes collecting carts or helping with groceries. Nothing unusual, except he seemed a little slower than James thought he would be. James stayed far enough away that he wouldn’t be noticed. He watched no more than half an hour and headed back home. James repeated this each day, sometimes on the bench at the pharmacy and sometimes in his car on the way home from work. He didn’t think Wrigley noticed him. Nothing seemed unusual, and six days in Wrigley was jotting around the parking lot at the quick pace that James would have expected. James had been keeping watch a little later at night to see if Wrigley was sneaking out. He hadn’t. He did buy himself new shoes and some more shorts. The kid had explained that he was working more and getting better tips. On the seventh day — a Saturday — Wrigley said he was going to go out after work and that he’d be home late. He said it to James in the kitchen that morning. “Why are you telling me?” James pointed at his sister. “Tell her.” The kid’s mom looked surprised. “Yeah! Why are you telling him? But that’s fine. When will you be back?” “Probably not really late. Like midnight or something.” “Okay. We need to get you a cell phone,” she said matter-of-factly. Wrigley nodded. He finished his breakfast — which he hardly ate — and headed to the back yard. James noted that he hadn’t eaten much but said nothing about it. The hardware store had limited hours on Saturday. It was only open eleven until four. And James had plans with his wife after, so he couldn’t easily check in on Wrigley at work. He figured he’d drive past the grocery store on his way home from work and take a look for the kid for maybe fifteen minutes. As he pulled up, Wrigley was helping a tall, broad man and his son with their groceries. Not a little old lady or a mom with three young children in tow. Not a careful, prim lady who didn’t want to sweat in the heat or someone parked in the accessible parking spots. This man was capable, and his son seemed like he’d be enough help. The boy was almost as big as Wrigley, though clearly some years younger. Somewhere around twelve or thirteen maybe. Wrigley loaded the three bags in the man’s car. Wow! Just three bags? The man tipped him. The son watched the interaction intently from the front seat, though neither the man nor Wrigley seemed to notice how closely the boy was watching. When his dad started toward the driver’s door, his son darted his head away. Wrigley watched the man’s car as he headed back into the store and as the car turned east out of the lot. James, facing west in his car, waited until his nephew was back in the store before turning around and following the man’s car east, keeping a safe distance. It was a straight shot before the car turned north on a smaller neighborhood street. James slowed even more, looking down the street to see the car turn east again into an alley. James sped up swiftly, turned north on the street after, parked his car before gaziantep escort the alley, got out, and walked casually past the alley to see which garage the car turned into. He waited ten more minutes, returned to his car, and drove down the alley to identify the house number: 447 Wheelock. He drove out of the alley and checked his mirrors. The man’s son walked into the alley with a basketball, tossing the ball at the rim mounted above the garage door. James drove back the two and a half miles home. His wife was already dressed for the barbecue they were headed to, and she offered him a beer. “Go change, and drink this,” she said, clearly having had one herself. “Your sister is coming, too. She got off work.” They headed out shortly and enjoyed themselves with their friends, arriving home just after ten thirty. A note was on the fridge. In Wrigley’s hand, it read: “We were out of milk. I brought some back from the grocery. Hope y’all had fun. I’ll be back around midnight.” They headed to bed, but James said he planned on staying up and finishing the beer. He stepped out on the back porch, pulled out his phone, and texted his wife: “Need more beer…” He waited for a reply. After five minutes with nothing, he was sure she was asleep, so he routed to 447 Wheelock and headed out. He parked a street over and backtracked. It was a clear night, so he was glad he’d worn a dark shirt and jeans to the barbecue. He walked past 447 on the street. No lights on. Wrigley’s bike wasn’t anywhere. He looked around and snuck up to the front porch and peered over the fence on each side of the house. No bike to the left. No bike to the right. There were only two ways he could see to get into the fence from outside of the house: through the gate to the right of the house or through the garage. The downstairs TV flickered on, and he ducked. He snuck back to the street and crossed to the other side. His phone said it was eleven, and he realized that, even if he were right, he was too early. Wrigley hadn’t left until eleven last Saturday night. He walked to the end of the street and waited. He watched as the man from the grocery store walked out on the front porch, down the steps, and to the front gate. He looked around, but James was in the shadows. The man opened the gate, and James walked over to the house, slipping quietly between the bushes and the fence, and watching the man open a door to the right of the house and walk in. James retreated to the end of the street again. He waited patiently another fifteen minutes. Just before eleven thirty, Wrigley showed up with his bike, coming between the neighbor’s hedges and the fence of 447. He had ridden through the alley and needed to get in the front gate. He quickly opened the gate, pushed his bike through it, and was gone. James waited a few minutes. He couldn’t hear or see anything happening. He walked back to 447 and peeked over the fence to see nothing. No bike. No man. No Wrigley. He opened the gate slowly, and walked around the back perimeter of the house, far enough not to be seen from the windows that lined the cellar. At the back of the house, he crawled to his stomach and peered through the clearest window he could find to see Wrigley clutching a support pillar in the middle of the cellar, his legs spread. The man was squatting, and his big face was buried in Wrigley’s little ass. James couldn’t hear anything, but he could tell Wrigley was enjoying himself. Between the man’s legs, James could see two huge balls and a giant cock stiffening. He understood why Wrigley had seemed hurt last week. By the cellar stairs, Wrigley’s bike was propped up, and his new shorts were draped over them. The kid still had his shoes and shirt on — the new shoes he’d just bought himself. After a few minutes of deep ass eating, the man grabbed Wrigley by the waist, pulled himself up, and pushed Wrigley to his knees. Wrigley’s eyes watered as the man guided his cock into the kid’s mouth. It looked like Wrigley was swallowing his own arm. The man held Wrigley by the back of his head and pulled him down on his cock. Wrigley coughed and snot ran down his chin and on the man’s cock and balls. The man pulled himself out of the kid’s throat, held Wrigley’s throat, and pulled him to his feet. ankara gerçek resimli escort He leaned into Wrigley’s ear and said something as he smeared the kid’s throat juices evenly over his angrily throbbing cock. The kid nodded, and the man released him. As the kid turned around, the man picked up a bottle that sat in the dirt and squeezed lube into his hand and onto his cock and the kid’s hole. In the back yard, James moved from his stomach to his side, pulling his cock from his fly and gently touching it as he watched his nephew be put to use by the giant man. He’d thought of men before. And of boys. He’d never acted on it, but he’d watched some porn with only men. This was much better. He could tell his nephew was struggling doing what the man wanted, and he worried that he was being hurt. But he couldn’t take his eyes away and didn’t dare try to stop it. The man lined up his huge member to James’ nephew’s hole. James expected him to massage it in, maybe taking time to eat the kid out more as he worked in a few inches at a time. That did not happen. He watched as the kid squeezed the man’s arm. The man slowly wrapped his arm around Wrigley’s face, the crease of his elbow covering the kid’s mouth. The man’s other hand grabbed Wrigley’s small waist, and he held him still as he pushed himself into the kid in one clean movement. James’ cock twitched as he heard the first sound from the cellar — a muffled scream from his nephew. The kid clenched his eyes tight as the man reached the deepest part of his first thrust in. The man pumped a few times into Wrigley, whose grip on the man’s arm began to loosen. Eventually, the man let go of the kid’s head and grabbed the other side of the kid’s waist. His hands wrapped almost all the way around the slim kid’s waist. James couldn’t believe the man fit in. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t gentle and obliging. Wrigley would never have been able to take the man if he’d been given more control. James imagined how perfect his little hole must have felt on the man’s huge cock. James’ wife couldn’t be nearly as tight. James watched as the man became monstrous. His eyes closed. He leaned back, his legs spread wide to keep himself low enough to slide into the short kid’s pussy. He stopped thrusting and instead opted to use the kid like a toy, pulling and pushing him forward and impaling him on his thick, nine-inch tool. Wrigley squirmed and tried to keep the man’s cock from getting all the way in his guts, but it was no use. Frustrated, the man pulled Wrigley to his ear and whispered quietly. Wrigley was more compliant after, letting the man pull him on and off his cock without complaint, and then letting the man slam repeatedly into his hole when he decided it was time to thrust. James watch in amazement as Wrigley let out moan and his thick kid load splattered on the cellar floor. The man covered the boy’s mouth and spoke in his ear again, no doubt telling Wrigley to be quiet. James himself muffled the sounds of his own orgasm that he’d been working up to this whole time. He shot a similarly size load onto the grass, watching intently as the big man’s muscular back tightened and he stopped mid-thrust to deposit ropes of semen deep inside his tiny fuck toy. The man came for thirty seconds, and pulling the kid’s cunt off him, he knelt to eat the kid’s battered hole. James quickly stuffed his sizeable cock back into his pants, knowing he needed to sneak out of the yard immediately. He took the chance while the man’s eyes were covered by his nephew’s pussy. After getting to his feet, he hurried to the gate, keeping himself as far from the house as possible. He slid through the gate and into the front yard. The light from the TV that was still on in the living room, and it was glowing on his face. He turned. It was showing a late night commercial. As he turned to leave, he saw through the large living room window: The man’s son scurried deftly from the kitchen and to the stairs. The boy checked out the window, and they caught each other’s gaze. James didn’t flinch. But his recently unloaded cock began to come back to life as he noticed the boy’s small erection in his tight pajamas. The boy couldn’t have recognized James, so James felt comfortable looking back at the boy. He stared at him as he rubbed his cock. The boy’s eyes widened, and suddenly remembering that he needed to get back to bed, he hurried up the stairs. James walked calmly to his car, knowing he’d make it home well before Wrigley. He felt proud of his patience. He had figured everything out. And he had discovered new desires in himself.

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