that he would have known by the way the door squeaked. So why was there an extra hand on his ass? At first he staggered on his down stroke and thought in his mind where Adelmo's hands were, one jacking his cock, the other behind Christoff's neck, and the third moved over the small of his back?

Chris flung himself off the bed with crippling speed and stood blinking immediately recognizing Gerardo. He had been the only brother his Peruvian fuck had made certain to give a name to when he showed a family photo.

"Hey, man it's cool. This is my bro Gerardo. He knows about me."

"I know who he is, and obviously he knows (is an understatement). What the fuck! Was he hiding in the goddamned closet?" Christoff got pissed. "Bitch" he spat keeping his voice low. The brothers looked at each other deciding whether to laugh or apologize. Gerardo settled on the bed, and started going on about it being cool while Chris felt all of the color drain from his face. Christoff hated his body at that moment, the way it turned the show of his anger into a joke, what it compelled him to do as his dick continued to rise, how gay he had become.

When he got home, Christoff's father was in full regalia. "Where have you been all day? You know I wanted you to take me to the store! Now how am I going to get my tablets this late." Christoff walked by and went directly to the kitchen not in the mood to fight or debate. During the day his dad had an assistant that stopped by three times a week to do things for him, but often he refused the help preferring to have Chris run all over town. "Where have you been" his dad asked again and slammed the TV remote onto the table. Its back fell off and one of the batteries rolled onto the floor under the sofa. "Goddamn it boy! Now look what you did, I'll never find it now. When are you going to clean out that shed and fix that leak in the back? I got shit all over my shoes out there."

Christoff went over and fished his hand under the divan finding a quarter, a three month old Kohl's sales paper, the battery, some dust bunnies and a couple of potato chips. "Dad" he stammered, "you are not supposed to be eating all this shit. How many times do I have to tell you..."

His father looked at him frowning and jumped back onto what he considered the bigger issue. "I tell you where you been. You been out there fucking. I can smell it! You don't even take care of the grandchild I've got now. I raised that boy until you done ran that girl off to God knows where." There was no talking to him. It was too close to the end of the month.

"Dad, we'll go tomorrow. I promise. I had some things to take care of tonight that's all. And I'm going to hire help for the work." He sounded as genuine as he could, his father looked at him displeasingly, fumbled with the battery and said nothing

"Dad I was not screwing around" he pleaded but wondered if he did smell.

"Oh the devil is a fucking lie and you know it" his dad spat making the words sound as though they left a bad taste