For the past couple of weeks, my dad and my uncle had been acting kinda… weird. It was very frustrating, because every time I'd confront one of them about it and ask them what's wrong, they'd just put on a front and assure me they're fine. But I could just tell they were lying – and one evening I got proof of that.
"Do you think we should tell Nash?" my uncle's voice said. I stopped dead in my tracks on top of the staircase.
"Not just yet," my father's voice replied. The two of them were downstairs in the living room, talking just loudly enough for me to hear. I was supposed to be up in my room studying, but I felt thirsty so I was on my way down to the kitchen to get something to drink. Now all of a sudden, I didn't feel thirsty anymore. My priorities had shifted, and I wanted to figure out this mystery. I stood on top of the stairs, barely breathing, eavesdropping on Dad and Uncle Stan.
"I feel bad hiding something so big from him," Stan said.
"I do too. But it's best we tell him everything once we know all the information. For now, we're all in a sort of limbo," Dad advised. Then, he let out a really loud sigh and added, "It's rough."
"Don't worry, man," my uncle said, followed by footsteps which made me assume Stan was walking up to Dad to give him a hug or pat him on the back. "No matter what the results are, we're gonna be fine. All of us. We're gonna do the right thing."
What kinda results were they talking about? Was somebody sick? Whatever this was, it sounded like it involved both my father AND my uncle. Was it work-related? Was Uncle Stan's business in danger? I hoped to gather more information, but unfortunately, they changed the topic.
"Are you gonna see Kelly tonight?" Stan asked my dad.
"Nah, she's not feeling well. Says she just wants to sleep."
"Do you wanna do something? Hang out?"
"Yeah, let's do it at your place," Dad suggested. "Nash needs to study upstairs, and we'll have more privacy there."
"Okay. Just remind me to lock the door. That little fucker's gotten in the habit of letting himself in without knocking," my uncle said with a laugh.
Four booted feet walked across the hardwood floor, toward the front door, which opened and closed, leaving silence behind. I rushed to put on a jacket and hat, waited one minute, and followed the two men out of the house and across the yard. As I walked in the dark, a genius idea occurred to me.
I walked into the garage, where my uncle kept a bunch of hunting equipment. I helped myself to a set of binoculars and went back out into the cold air, walking toward a tree which held up an old, deserted treehouse. Uncle Stan had built it for me to play in when I used to visit him as a kid. Thankfully, the planks nailed onto the trunk of the tree were still there, allowing me to use them as a ladder. I prayed the treehouse was still sturdy enough to hold me up. When I reached the top, I realized Uncle Stan was an expert construction worker. Even after years of disuse and inclement Maine weather, the treehouse was in excellent condition.
From this vantage point and aided by the binoculars, I was able to see directly into Uncle Stan's studio windows. He'd only built this studio over the garage a couple of years ago, and I guess it never occurred to him or he simply didn't care that in the winter, with the trees bare of leaves, someone would be able to spy on him from the treehouse.
My dad and my uncle got comfortable, taking off their jackets and boots and probably changing the topic of conversation to something funnier, because they were both laughing now. Uncle Stan grabbed two beers from the fridge, handed one to his brother, and they clinked the bottles before taking a hearty swig. Uncle Stan even got out cigars from one of the kitchen drawers. I knew they both smoked cigarettes, but I'd never seen them smoking cigars before. This was weird: just a few minutes ago they were discussing a secret which sounded like a problem. Now, they looked like they were celebrating.
The two brothers proceeded to sit, Uncle Stan in his favorite chair and my dad on the couch. My uncle turned on the television. I couldn't see the screen, but I assumed they were about to watch a game or something. But then… Uncle Stan got up and headed to one of the shelves where he kept his collection of porn DVDs. He picked one, took it out, and walked to the DVD player to pop it in. WHAT?! Before sitting back down, Uncle Stan even dropped his pants, so he was now in just a T-shirt and boxers. Holy shit! Were my dad and my uncle, two brothers, about to watch porn together?!!
This was totally insane. Luckily, the treehouse rose just a bit higher than the windows. Uncle Stan's chair was facing me, so I got a complete view of his body. The couch was sideways to my view, so I got the side profile of my dad. Uncle Stan used the remote to start the DVD, which I assumed was some straight porn flick.
Within minutes, my uncle had fished his cock out from the slit in his boxers and he was slowly stroking. Was this a normal thing for brothers to do? Was this something my uncle and my dad have done before? It sure seemed like it. From what I could see, the atmosphere seemed so casual that I was willing to bet this wasn't their first time. How often does this sort of thing happen?
After a while, my dad seemed to follow his brother's example. With my hands shaking from nervousness as well as the cold (I should've brought gloves!), I tried to hold the binoculars steady while I zoomed in on my father as he stood up to unzip his pants, letting them fall to the floor and keeping his boxers on. I held my breath as Dad sat down, pushing his underwear down at the same time. I gasped when his hard cock sprang free. I'd seen my father's tool before when I was younger, and I still had vague memories of it, but this was my first time seeing it fully erect!
My dad's dick looked similar to Uncle Stan's, only Dad's was slightly smaller both in length and width. He also kept his brown bush more trimmed compared to Uncle Stan's forest of wily ginger pubes. I zoomed in even further on my father, focusing on the cock that made me in all of its aroused, erect glory.
Without realizing it, I licked my lips at the sight of my dad's meat. I eyed it from the tip, already shiny with precum, down his veiny shaft, to his heavy hairy balls. I kept going back and forth between my dad and Uncle Stan, unable to focus on one cock for too long before needing a peek at the other. I even wondered if dad might be jealous that his younger brother's cock was clearly bigger and thicker. I wondered if they smelled the same, felt the same, tasted the same…
As inappropriate incestuous thoughts crossed my mind, my own cock became painfully hard. I blew air onto my free hand to warm it up a bit, before using it to pull out my dick. I started stroking while watching my dad and uncle jerk off. In a way, it was almost like the three of us were masturbating together. What a Christmas miracle that would be!
As much as I admired Uncle Stan's cock, I was currently more mesmerized by my dad's boner. I especially loved the way he tugged on his balls with one hand while fisting his shaft with the other. My imagination ran wild, and I wanted nothing more than to be in that room with them.
I zoomed out a bit so I could get the full image of both brothers again. I noticed that while my dad was completely focused on the television screen and the porn that was playing, my uncle seemed pretty much fixated on Dad's cock just as much as I was. Uncle Stan had already had a taste of my cock. Was he now wondering what it might be like to suck off his own brother?
Something on the screen must've set my dad off, as his head rolled back and his eyes closed. He was jerking off even more intensely while biting his lower lip. And then, the moment I'd been waiting for: my dad shot his load. His cum shot high before landing on his stomach, staining his shirt. My heart raced as I watched him send three, four, five more ropes of my brothers and sisters up in his air and down on his shirt.
Uncle Stan was watching as well. A few moments after my dad came, my uncle popped off as well. What a waste of delicious cum. Unable to hold on any longer, I blew my own load all over the treehouse floor. Throughout the entire ordeal, I held the binoculars pressed up against my eyes, wondering what I might see next.
Unfortunately, Uncle Stan reached for the remote shortly after his orgasm had subsided. He probably played whatever sports game was on, as he and Dad used some tissues to clean up their jizz and then pulled their pants up. The two brothers returned to drinking their beers, acting casual, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened tonight.