Birthday Boy

 

Alan parked his car in the drive, leaving enough space for Peter; Russ got the garage. He walked to the mailbox, got the day's ration of bills and sale fliers and walked into the kitchen. It was cleaning day, the entire house smelled of polish and the kitchen gleamed. Nancy and the cleaning crew did a great job.

Alan grinned, thinking back to the days he and Peter argued the pros and cons to Russ about paying for a cleaning crew. Finally Russ had said if they wanted to pay for it he had no problem. However, he reminded them that windows and baseboards would still be cleaned if certain brats need to be settled. Then Russ laughed when the predicable looks of total innocence flashed over both of Peter and Alan's faces.

Opening the fridge he grabbed the chocolate milk container out and drank deeply. Why did it always taste so much better from the carton than a glass, he wondered. He finished it off and re checked to see there was another quart in the fridge. Sighing in relief, he walked upstairs to change.

Quickly he stripped down and put on his jock and his short workout shorts. He padded his way downstairs to the small room off the garage which they set up as a workout room. It wasn't a lot: a universal gym, some free weights and a incline board. They still went to the Company's gym to do real work outs. Peter and Russ often stopped there on the way home and it was normal for all of them to meet there once a week to meet with the company provided trainer. Still this was great. He didn't have to go anywhere and he could wear his trolling shorts (as Russ called them) here. Alan did some stretches to warm up a bit. He was setting up the weights on the gym when he heard Peter's car park and the slam of the back door.

“I'm down here!” Alan shouted.

He heard Peter's steps in the kitchen and then silence as he guessed Peter was going up to change out of his work clothes.

Alan was working up a good sweat when the door opened, there stood Peter in his ratty old work out shorts and tee. Alan grunted as he let the weights back down and wiped at his forehead.

“Hey!” Peter said as he started to stretch.

Alan stopped to watch Peter as his body stretched and he was warmed again by the feeling of love and affection that flashed though his body as he watch his partner's legs and that oh so perfect butt tense and relax. Peter noticed Alan watching and started to flex and pose, just a little, putting on a small show for his lover and partner. His arms over his head. His blond chest twisting then he bent over again so his butt was right in Alan's face. Alan could not resist landing a pop across the well muscled ass.

“Hey", chuckled Peter, "Hands off the dancer.”

“I can't help it. It is such a hot ass, Dude, I just want to touch it and feel it. Maybe you could lap dance for me", Alan joked, casting his gaze up and down Peter's body with an I-want-you look.

Peter grinned back. "Yes, a cute boy like you, all hot and sweaty. Ahh but lap dances are expensive, boy, how do you plan to pay?”

Peter looked Alan up and down with that lustful look. "I mean, Dude, I don't see a wallet in them shorts, there isn't any room to hide one the way you are tenting up anyway. You're a tease boy, just a hot sweaty good lookin tease, that is what you are.”

Alan got to his feet tossing his hair back. “Are you sure?” he asked innocently as his hands roamed over his short shorts feeling them up the front and cupping them down the back, then slowing in the movement of a dancer and began to work them off his hips, exposing his jockstrap.

“Hmmmm", he said twirling the shorts around his finger. "You are right no wallet.”

Alan sighed theatrically and sat back down on the bench. "What's a boy to do?”

Peter laughed and sat down on the bench beside Alan.

"I have a few ideas!” he growled as he grabbed Alan and drew him over his lap.

“I have several ideas for a Birthday Boy, especially in this position, one that has not had his birthday spanking yet.”

Peter 's low voice was making Alan wiggle as his hands were rubbing and roaming over Alan's bare butt.

Then they heard the garage door open and the sound of Russ getting out of his car.

Peter's hand cracked down on Alan's bare butt. Alan jerked and howled!

“Help, help! I'm being abused! Help!” he cried, giggling as Peter's hand landed another smack on his upturned butt.

The door opened and Russ was there filling the doorway his briefcase dropped to the floor as he leaned against the door.

“Just what is happening here?” he said in that deep Top tone of voice.

“Help!” yelled Alan, struggling to get off Peter's lap as Peter tightened his grip around his waist.

"I'm being beaten Sir, Help!” Alan yelled as he tried to bite Peter's leg.

“No biting” Peter yelped. as his hand smacked down across the firm muscled butt of his lover.

Peter landed another swat to the upturned bare butt and looked innocently at Russ.

“Nothing is happening here, Sir. It is his birthday I was just trying to save you the trouble is all, being the thoughtful partner I am.”

“Yes!” Russ nodded grinning at the giggling and struggling Alan trapped over Peter's knee.

"Peter you always have been so helpful but in this case I do believe it is the Top's job to deliver the birthday spanking. But don't let me stop you from your turn. Then again, you might get one yourself young man for over stepping your bounds!" Russ said in the mock Top growl as he loosened his tie and started roll us his shirt sleeves.

"Brutes. I am trapped by brutes", whined Alan.

“Yes it is a sad commentary on life isn't it, young man?” said Russ, pulling Alan off Peter's lap and kissing him deeply, then sitting down and pulling Alan over his knee.

“Ahh so nice to see a warm glow already", he growled as he ran his hand over the warm cheeks of his youngest brat.

He kept Alan over his knee and began to give his lover his traditional birthday spanking.

Peter laughed and kept giving out pointers. Pointing to part of Alan bottom that wasn't quite pink enough.

Russ finished with a flurry of light swats. Then he picked up the wiggling Alan and pushed him to Peter.

“Here”, he said, “Why don't you carry him upstairs as I change and we can take him out for his Birthday dinner.”

Peter tossed the still gasping Alan over his shoulder with that pink glowing bottom right at his shoulder and began slapping the butt as they walked out of the small workout room.

“Which restaurant, Sir?” he said in that deferential voice. “The one with the hard wooden seats?”