Quillon's Covert by Joseph Lance Tonlet, Louis Stevens Read Free Book Online Page B

thing that came to his mind. “Well, although that wasn’t quite the punishment I’d expected it to be, and—” Tilting his head toward Marty’s crotch. “—I think I can safely say that’ll be your last spanking. I accept your apology. Now, how about you see what you’re able to do as far as unpacking the rest of the supplies from the truck?”
    Marty’s eyes almost shyly darted to his crotch. “Um…can I…try and do something about this first?”
    Martin got up and took the few steps over to the refrigerator. After grabbing a six-pack of beer off the counter, he set it on the top shelf. “Outside” was his somewhat rattled response.

    Marty / 16
     
    What the fuck just happened?
    Had he really just popped a bone while his dad punished his ass? Who does that?
    “You alright there, Wood Master?”
    Marty awkwardly adjusted his sketchy grip on the bag of groceries. “I can manage.”
    “Don’t overdo it.” Martin grinned, purposefully ignoring Marty’s struggle, while sitting on the stairs spooling a new line on his reel. Of course Martin wouldn’t offer to help him lug things inside. And why should he? Marty was the dumbass who’d broken both arms. He was still thankful his best friend, minus a few scrapes, had been unharmed. Joyriding, he thought, and smoking pot while doing it, had been a seriously fucked up idea. The bag nearly slipped from his tenuous grasp as he climbed the stairs. Yeah, he knew he deserved everything his dad planned to dish out, and probably a lot more.
    After hauling the rest of the groceries into the kitchen and unpacking them, he pulled the fresh linens out and set about making the bed. What should have taken only a few minutes saw dusk approaching as he edged the mattress back into place with his knee. Martin had lugged the outdoor furniture out of the shed and onto the side deck and front porch. Marty looked out the front window, wiping his brow along his bicep, and watched as his father finished stringing the hammock in its customary spot between two trees down by the lake. The air conditioner’s cooler breeze blew across his sweaty stomach and caused him to shiver as Martin made his way up to the cabin. Although it was getting slightly cooler inside, it wouldn’t become really comfortable until night fell.
    Martin pushed open the door and wandered toward the kitchen sink. “Hey.”
    “Back atcha.”
    Martin’s head tilted curiously at him, and Marty chuckled. “The voice is still freakin’ you out too, huh?”
    Martin grinned. “It really is. It sounds like you, but different at the same time, ya know?”
    He couldn’t help but notice his dad’s chest hair matted against his sweaty skin, making his body seem even darker than it was. Marty busied himself with adjusting the air conditioner’s vents and tried his best to keep his eyes from landing anywhere other than on his father’s naked body. The sound of tap water running was interspersed with splashing noises, and he glanced over to find Martin spread-legged, hunching over the sink, dousing his entire head under the cool water.
    Bent over like he was, Martin’s thighs were parted and his heavy nut sack, hanging low from the heat, swung between his legs. Again Marty looked away, wondering how his eyes always seemed to find his dad’s nuts while admonishing himself for even looking. Martin shut off the tap, ripped several paper towels off the roll, and ran them over his face and hair.
    “Um,” Marty began.
    Martin lifted an eyebrow and swiped the paper towel at his neck.
    “I’m gonna…go to the bathroom, if that’s okay?”
    “Why wouldn’t…” Martin started but then understanding dawned in his dark eyes. He pulled open the refrigerator. “Yeah, sure…I’m just gonna grab something cold to drink. I’ll fetch the lantern and meet you at the shower.”
    It wasn’t dark yet, but sunset wasn’t far off. Marty hesitated a moment. As much as he needed to use the bathroom and wanted a shower, he’d