Page 6 of Pressure

“That’s cool you guys own the place,” I said as I sipped on the lemonade Trudy had made. “I thought these were all just rentals.”

“We love it here. Just not the winters,” Trudy said.

“Our old bones can’t handle the cold anymore,” Frank added as he laughed.

“Joel and Tristen have been so kind to Frank and me. They watch the place for us in the winter and make sure none of the pipes freeze.”

“Are they the caretakers for the rental place?” I asked. When my question was met with laughter from Trudy and Frank, I smiled and waited for them to explain.

“No, Joel and Tristen own the Equinox Lake Tahoe?—”

Frank interrupted, “And the Equinox San Diego.”

“Yes, that one too. They are the original owners.” Trudy waved her hand in the direction of the other cabins near the lake. “All of these cabins are owned by Equinox Lake Tahoe.”

I nodded. Usually places like this were owned by big companies or corporations. It was rare to hear about posh resorts being owned and still maintained by its original hands.

The binoculars I’d received a few years ago for Christmas had turned out to provide almost endless entertainment each afternoon. During another one of Braxton and Quinn’s disagreements, I was sitting on the deck, making a sweep across the lakefront and cabins, when I spotted something at one of the recently vacated units that was worth my attention.

Six-foot-fuck-me-three Silver Fox Daddy was outside on the deck talking to a guy in a bright blue shirt. He had a patch on his shirt, but I couldn’t make out the words even with the help of the binoculars. I glanced to the front of the cabin and saw the bright blue service van. There were trees blocking all of the words but I could make out the air conditioning and heating portion. Iquickly turned my attention back to the service tech and the guy from the Fourth of July celebration.

There was something about this guy that made me want to learn more about him. He just had that personality that pulled me in, and rarely did anyone have that effect on me. Just with my short interaction with him the night of the party, I found him to be addictive. Not to mention the excitement that surged through my body when he touched me. I remembered his gray eyes that stared at me when I had a hard time drinking Coke in front of him. His face and features were burned into my memory, and I’d drawn several pictures of him since that evening.

“Oh my god,” I said under my breath when the service guy lowered to his knees.

Six-foot-fuck-me-three Silver Fox Daddy stood in front of the man with his back to me, blocking most of my view. I felt myself harden and swiftly moved my hand to the elastic waistband of my shorts. While holding the binoculars as still as I could with one hand, I freed my dick from the underwear and shorts and situated the underwear and elastic band of the shorts under my balls. I spit on my hand and started to stroke my shaft. Even though I couldn’t see everything because of their positioning, I was glued to the spot on the deck as I watched a version of porn play out in front of me that seemed too good to be true. It reminded me of times when I was younger and maybe caught some porn channel on cable tv due to interference or something. It usually wasn’t very clear but was just enough to get excited about and tell my friends at school the next day about the sex I saw on TV. I couldn’t see much back then, but gladly took what I could see, just like now. Every few seconds or so, the service guy would slide his mouth all the way back to almost the tip of the Silver Fox Daddy’s dick until it nearly popped out of his mouth. Then he’d spit on the dick before devouring it whole again. Inoticed the a/c and heating guy had his pants undone and his hard dick bobbed from between the unzipped zipper.

“Yeah, that’s for sure a service guy.” I chuckled at my terrible sense of immature humor.

I continued to watch the service guy “service” the six-feet-fuck-me-three Silver Fox Daddy while sliding my hand up and down my shaft. The thick afternoon humidity and hot show through the binoculars had caused my forehead to feel sweaty. My arm and hand muscles were also getting a workout.

I was almost in a trance watching the two guys when a moving blurred reflection of them caught my eye. I moved the binoculars just a little bit and saw the waist down of another man. I figured the reflection had been their door to the patio deck opening. Taking the binoculars with me, I leaned back so l could get a full view of the other man who walked with purpose toward the duo. My attention followed this tall man’s hands as he pulled off his black t-shirt, revealing his muscular chest, and undid his pants. He retrieved his long shaft and stroked himself for a moment or two until the service tech pulled his mouth away from the Silver Fox Daddy from the Fourth of July party and worked on the second Silver Fox Daddy. He licked the other dick up and down before sliding his mouth down the lengthy cock that just joined the party. I moved my binoculars up to get a look at this guy. This wasn’t just your average guy; he also had looks to kill.

“Fuck me,” I murmured slowly. “There’s two of the six-feet-fuck-me-three Silver Fox Daddies.”

My hand continued to pump my cock while I watched the live action porn show play out a few cabins away. I’d successfully managed to drown out the argument between Braxton and Quinn going on inside, but wasn’t able to ignore the vibrating phone in my pocket. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried, but the caller would hang up and call right back. This continued until I had nochoice but to drag my hand away from my dick to pull the damn phone out of my pocket.

I forced my eyes from the binoculars to glance at the phone. Five missed calls from home. I sighed and just as I started to set the phone down, the screen lit up with my parents’ home phone number. Again.

“Fuck, can’t l even jack off without them up my ass and interrupting me?” I mumbled under my breath before putting the binoculars on the chair beside me.

“Yes?” My greeting was short and didn’t mask my annoyance at the interruption.

“Really, Cashman, is that any way to greet your father and me?”

Before I could get a word in, my dad jumped in.

“It’s probably the way kids greet their parents at that artsy party school.”

Great, both of them were on the phone. I really didn’t understand their hate for UCLA and Los Angeles. Braxton had said he thought they were just bitter that they couldn’t say all the third generation attorneys at the firm were educated at Yale or Harvard.

Oh fucking well.

I picked up the binoculars and held them up to my eyes.

“No, sorry. I was just in the middle of something.” Spying on two six-feet-fuck-me-three Silver Fox Daddies, specifically.

My father laughed, which pissed me off. I pulled the binoculars away from my eyes and sighed loudly. “What could you possibly be busy with? You haven’t done a damn thing all summer. Been busy coloring and doing connect-the-dots in your coloring book or drawing spaceships?” Dad paused to make sure I heard his laughter. “Meanwhile, your cousins all attended additional seminars and classes this summer.”