by Zane Menzy
Carrie’s kind voice poked Keegan’s ear. “What about you, Keegan, have you travelled?”
“Nope, not yet.” He took a sip on his drink, the whisky burning his throat as it went down thanks to Damon’s heavy handed mixing. “One day though I hope to. I might even try and find this famous limping elephant.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard, the poor thing doesn’t run too fast,” Damon joked as he settled back into his chair beside Boozy Sue.
“What’s the name of the park? You know, the one where the elephant is?” Keegan asked, he shot Damon a look of innocence despite the question’s prickly delivery.
Damon’s eyes blinked like shutters, his jaw dropping in confusion as his tongue twisted for an answer. “You know what… I can’t actually remember.” He twisted round to face Boozy Sue. “How’s that wine going down?” He narrowed his eyes, trying to strike a seductive pose but wound up looking like a pissed fool.
“It’s going down a treat,” Boozy Sue replied. She raised the glass to her lips, feeding her liver some more damage.
“Good to know. I like things that go down a treat,” Damon said, slurring his words.
Carrie laughed. “Is your dad always like this?”
Keegan nearly choked on his drink. That was just too funny.
“Why on earth would you think he’s mine?” Damon squawked, making Keegan sound like a burden or some sort of disease.
“Gee, thanks.” Keegan snapped back.
“Sorry, buddy. But that would mean I was like twelve when I had you.”
“More like nineteen,” Keegan replied.
Carrie’s face began to turn red. “Oh, sorry. I just assumed you were both family.” She rescued the awkward moment with a nervous smile.
“No, Keegan here, is my best mate, Matty’s son.” Damon waved a drunken finger at him, pointing as if he were an art exhibit.
“That makes sense, his good looks can’t have come from you,” Boozy Sue joked. She rubbed Damon’s knee affectionately. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
Damon rested back in his chair. “And no, it’s Keegan’s mother who gifted the boy those. But he’s clumsy like his old man.”
Dad’s clumsy? Keegan admittedly didn’t know much about his father but he had not heard this trait mentioned before. He waited curiously to hear more about the resemblance.
“Yep, just like Matty he’s a bit useless with his hands, so I been told.” He looked at Keegan with an Elvis-like sneer.
Keegan shot Damon a blank stare. He didn’t have a clue what the idiot was on about.
“Or his.” Damon wiggled his fingers. “More specifically.” Damon roared with laughter.
“What’s he on about?” Carrie whispered to Keegan.
Keegan shrugged. “What are you talking about, Damon?”
“Your girlfriend told me that you were having problems letting your fingers do the walking down there. No word of a lie, your old man gets the same feedback.” Damon sculled back on his drink, unaware he had crossed a line and had given away his alone time with Tess.
Boozy Sue laughed along with Damon while Carrie sighed a breath of disapproval at the pissed pair. Damon was an arrogant arse when he got drunk, but his low blow told Keegan that this was probably payback for the surly silence Keegan had inflicted on him all day.
“Let’s just hope you’re better with your pecker when you finally pop that cherry of yours.”
A flood of shame mixed with anger rolled through Keegan’s body. Why didn’t she ever tell me this? His body shook in shivers as he struggled to maintain his cool.
“You seem to be a bit of jerk,” Carrie said coldly at Damon.
Damon shook his head free from laughter, mustering an apologetic tone. “Sorry, Keegan. I’m just having you on. Tess never said anything.” He stared Keegan in the eyes. “Honest, matey. I was just joking.”
Keegan didn’t know whether to believe him or not. The damage had been done though. He put his glass down and stood up from his chair a little too fast, a woozy feeling coming over him. “It was really nice to meet you both but I think I’m gonna call it a night.” He turned and walked away.
“Oh, come on, don’t go! I was only joking, K dog… I said I’m sorry,” Damon called out.
Keegan didn’t look back. He stormed ahead, carrying himself along with angry strides. When he got back to the cabin, he slammed the door behind him and let out a frustrated yell. He kicked the side of his bed and pulled at his hair. He had never felt so riled up in all his life.
That smug prick needs to be taught a fucking lesson!
If he could, he would knock him out, smash his fist right into Damon’s yuppie, moisturized face. But Keegan wasn’t stupid. He was no match physically for the older, more dominant male. He knew he needed to calm down before Damon crawled his arse back. If he didn’t, there was every chance he would do something stupid.
Keegan shook his head, willing himself to calm down and chase vengeful thoughts away. He plonked himself down on the bed, feeling like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. Keegan removed his shoes and dirty socks, inspecting his dried-cum covered feet. An evil smile washed over his face, he went over to Damon’s bed, reached for the pillow and used it to rub his feet clean. Sweet dreams, arsehole.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
For The Very First Time
Keegan lay in bed, still dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. A nude sleep was off the cards thanks to the burden of sharing a one room cabin; this minor annoyance only added to the speedily growing list of crap that was bothering him about the whole trip. He had laid in bed for well over an hour but still couldn’t drift off to sleep.
The darkness of the room, matched Keegan’s mood. The only light in the scene was a pale strip of moonlight stretched across the floor, peeking through the window above the beds. Outside he could hear the rushing water of a creek, one of many which he assumed fed into the nearby lake. He tried blocking its trickling noise from his eardrums, so he wouldn’t feel the bursting need to pee.
A new noise soon approached the cabin, drowning out the sound of rippling water. Keegan pricked his ears up, attempting to make out what it was. He soon gathered that the it was a who and that who was Damon. He was whistling a happy tune that stopped just before his heavy stomps got to the front door. Keegan rolled onto his side, resting his knees together and closed his eyes—pretending to be asleep. Damon’s intoxicated state was evident by the three turns of the handle it took him to open the unlocked door.
Keegan could tell Damon was trying his best to be quiet as he took his shoes off by the door. His soft tip-toeing in the dark didn’t last long though, within seconds he walked straight into the table, cursing out loud. “Fuck!” Keegan grinned, watching Damon’s shadowy figure hop around on one leg, shaking his injured foot about. Good fucking job!
Damon hissed out hot breaths ‘till he relaxed his foot back to the ground, he paced over towards the kitchen sink, fetched a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. He tippy toed carefully across the room, stretching his free hand out like he was reading brail. When Damon managed to make it over to his bed, he placed the glass of water down on the bedside table. Keegan was hoping the pissed idiot would kick his foot again. As he sat there willing Damon injury a frisky familiar noise tore at his instincts.
Zzzzzzzip.
The sound of Damon’s fly coming down startled Keegan in the strangest way—just like all those months ago with Liam. He studied Damon’s shadowy figure standing with his back turned, waiting to see what happened next. Damon had stalled with the act of removing his pants, busy scratching his head instead as he let out a groggy yawn.
The gap between the beds where Damon stood was so narrow that Keegan could—if he wanted to— reach out and touch him. He was that close Keegan could smell the musky cologne clinging to Damon’s skin and the potent scent of whisky whirling from his breath.
Keegan wasn’t sure what was happening but his anger began to subside and become repla
ced with a curiosity to see Damon under the light. He extended his hand to the bedside table and flicked the switch on of the small lamp which sat there.
Damon spun ‘round, his groggy eyes surprised to see Keegan awake. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Nar, I was still up,” Keegan said. He looked up, scanning Damon’s six-foot height. Even though he was only a smidgen of an inch taller than Keegan, he looked like a sky scraper standing there the way he did. The man carried a vibe to him, everything about Damon screamed big. Keegan wasn’t sure if this vibe had always been there but it was undeniable in that moment.
“So you heard my wee collision with that fucking table then?” Damon chuckled at his own misfortune.
Keegan looked up at him, smiling. “I sure did.”
“I hope you enjoyed the show,” Damon said. He proceeded to unbutton his shirt—his manly fingers unhooking the buttons with a smooth ease Keegan hadn’t expected from someone who had just spent an entire evening drinking. Damon jutted his shoulders backwards, sliding the shirt off his back. He released his arms from the clingy sleeves and dropped the shirt to the floor where it fell in a crumpled heap.
Damon turned ‘round to face his own bed. Keegan pounced on the moment and blatantly ogled the older man’s defined back muscles; a testimony to the number of hours he must put in at the gym. Damon slipped his thumbs to his hips, bent forward and pulled his jeans down to his feet, stepping free of them. The tip of his hairy arse crack was now visible above a pair of black boxer briefs that clung to his firm buttocks. Damon’s legs looked solid and powerful. Keegan felt his cock twitch when he noticed a tan line starting below the black briefs. Damon’s legs were golden from the mid-thigh down, but from above they were smoother, paler; unapologetically erotic. As sexy as Damon’s tan was, it was the paler parts of him Keegan felt an urgent need to see.
Why did I never notice how fucking hot you were before now?
Keegan felt his mouth begin to water as he took in every detail. It was like he was seeing Damon for the very first time. A truly stunning specimen unwrapping the layers of clothing which hid a body Keegan now craved to explore.
He had known Damon wasn’t ugly in the past, he probably even knew the guy classified as good looking, but never ever had he thought of him as sexy. Even after the awakening with Liam, Damon had never entered his mind in such a way. The guy was a selfish jerk, older and not to mention practically family. Yet here Keegan was lying in a bed—only a few feet away from Damon who stood in nothing but his underwear and socks—nursing an erection that was growing harder by the second.
Keegan felt his tummy begin to somersault, twisting with an aching hunger. If he were back at home, he could rush somewhere private and beat off to relieve the pressure. Not here though. Here, he was stranded in this small cabin with temptation dangled right in front of his face. There was nowhere he could go to avoid the danger of doing something stupid.
Keegan had known this man his whole life. Uncle Damon. The guy had been more present through the years than his own father. Damon had been there every birthday and Christmas—and then some.
He had taken Keegan to his first rugby match, taught him how to ride a bike, drive a car, he had even been the one to give Keegan the “birds and the bees” talk. Damon taught him how to shave, standing beside him in the bathroom mirror, showing a fifteen-year-old Keegan the correct strokes of the razor. Each time Keegan had cut himself, Damon ripped up bits of toilet paper, wet them with his tongue and stuck them to Keegan’s cuts. It had been a painfully slow task but never did he lose his patience with the clumsy handed teen. He praised Keegan every step of the way. Guilt nuzzled into Keegan’s chest as he recalled these memories and how much he used to look up to this man—before he grew old enough to see Damon’s flaws.
He watched as Damon sat down, remove his socks and crawl under the crisp covers to rest his head on a pillow smeared with Keegan’s dry cum. The poor, drunken fool had no idea what was coming—that in the bed next to him was an incredibly horny teenager who bore a grudge and was developing devious intentions on the spot.
Keegan smiled to himself. Revenge for what Damon had done to him suddenly seemed entirely possible. His raging hormones spurred him on, blocking out any trepidation or fear of conflict. Damon had witnessed many of Keegan’s firsts in life and tonight he would play an integral role in one more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Slow And Steady Wins The Race
Keegan was as scared as he was excited. He didn’t know how to approach his wicked plan. He tried to buy time, stoking a fire of conversation with mindless chat.
“So, what happened with Boozy Sue?” Keegan asked.
“Nothing. We just drank ‘till all the booze run out.” Damon rolled onto his side to face Keegan.
“Oh… I thought you two were getting along if you know what I mean?” He winked at Damon, trying to look cool but failing epically.
Damon grinned. “Nope, I can’t claim another notch under my belt tonight if that’s what you mean.” He let out a thoughtful sigh. “Probably for the best anyway, she wasn’t really my type.”
“True, true,” Keegan said. He racked his brains, thinking of ways to steer the conversation to where he needed it to go. How do I do this? Think Keegan, think.
“Keegan?” Damon stared at him, his face pinched with an earnest expression.
“Yeah?” Keegan said.
“I am sorry about earlier with the whole Tess joke. I honestly didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah I know,” Keegan replied. “I just overreacted.” Keegan told Damon what he wanted to hear, not what he really meant. The need to shift Damon to where he needed him required a false sense of sincerity.
“No worries, K dog. I shouldn’t joke about stuff like that anyway.”
Quietness draped the room. They lay there in their separate beds, not saying a word.
Damon broke the silence first. “Shall we turn the light off?” He rubbed his sleepy eyes. “I don’t know about you, buddy, but I’m absolutely knackered.”
Keegan panicked. He sat up in the bed, looking towards the door where Damon’s shoes lay scattered. He took a quick breath and let his mouth tumble out with a stupid question all designed to stall the act of sleeping. “What size shoe do you wear?”
Damon blinked, surprised by the random question. “Size eleven… sometimes a twelve. Why’s that?”
“No reason, I was just wondering.” Keegan said. “So you have quite big feet.” A nervous laugh escaped his lips.
“Guess so,” Damon said, unconcerned.
Keegan clenched his fists under the blanket, willing himself to push forward with his sadistic plan. “Can I see?”
“See what?” Damon frowned.
“Your feet? Keegan worried how Damon would react to such a strange request.
Damon gave him a wry smile. “Okay, if you insist,” he sighed playfully. He raised the blanket and brought his leg out, raising it slightly off the bed, waving his foot about.
“Wow those are some decent size feet you got there, man,” Keegan said, feigning a curious intrigue.
“Thanks, K dog.” Damon laughed, he went to retrieve his leg and place it back under the blanket.
“Wait. Can you leave it out, I just wanna look a bit longer,” Keegan said, sounding a little too enthused.
Damon obliged, he left his leg exposed, resting it down on the mattress and began laughing. “You’re a weird one,” he said jokingly, unaware of Keegan’s sexual motives.
“Yeah, I just want to compare it to mine.” Keegan knew how stupid this sounded but Damon didn’t seem to mind or was just too pissed to care.
“Go for gold,” Damon said. He rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
Keegan climbed out from under the covers and sat forward on the edge of his bed, he clasped his hands together in front of his crotch, careful to not expose the firm fleshy tent-pole prodding through his underwear. Keegan stared at Damon’s foot then down at his own s
ize ten feet. “Yep, definitely bigger than mine.”
Damon opened his eyes and chuckled, genuinely intrigued by the random foot comparison. He looked down at the floor to check out the size difference Keegan was referring to. “Nothing wrong with your feet, K dog. As long as they hold you up, that’s the main thing.”
“True that,” Keegan mumbled. Everything was going smoothly, he felt a strange sense of power from having created this strange scene. So far, so good. It was time to kick it up a level. “You’ve got really toned legs, you must go really hard at the gym,” Keegan knew Damon’s ego wouldn’t resist such a compliment.
“Cheers,” Damon said in a happy tone. “The gym and all the walking to the gallery helps.” He looked down at his flattered leg, admiring himself.
While Damon’s eyes were distracted with his own beauty, Keegan dropped his knees to the floor and scuttled across to the side of Damon’s bed. He held a hand up in front of Damon’s leg. “Can I?” he hovered his hand above Damon’s ankle.
Damon nodded.
Keegan’s cock twitched at the naive approval. He felt like he could spontaneously combust from the amount of desire flowing through him, all rushing to his fingertips that were about to touch Damon with the most sexual of intentions. He swallowed a lump of frustrated passion caught in his throat, slowly dropping his hand to Damon’s ankle. He grazed his fingers along the drunk man’s hard shins then snuck under to grab hold of Damon’s hairy calf muscle, the warmth of the touch sent a shiver tapping Keegan’s spine.
Holy fuck, he’s letting me touch him.
Keegan just kept groping. He let his eyes wander up the rest of Damon’s leg. He was surprised by how hairy the guy was—even hairier than Liam. He could see the tan line at Damon’s thigh just below the black briefs, this is where he wished his hand was. It gleamed like a finish line but Keegan knew he couldn’t rush things and risk freaking Damon out. Slow and steady will win this race.
