Sadly, Southernfrau is no longer with us. Her stories are archived here for her friends to remember her by. Enjoy her legacy to Lancer.
Word Count 430
Disclaimer: I’d own them if they would sell them.
Author’s note: Written for the LoJML September challenge of someone teaching someone.
Warning: NC-17 for those of you with suggestive minds. <BG>
~*~ L ~*~ A ~*~ N ~*~ C ~*~ E ~*~ R ~*~
Pouring a measure of Talisker’s in his tumbler, Murdoch took a sip, smacking his lips in delight at the initial taste of dried fruit sweetness, followed by smoky flavor and finally the peppery eruption as it reached the back of his throat. The murmur of his sons’ voices floated in from the patio where they were sitting and enjoying the cool evening air common to September.
Deciding to join his sons, the big Scot slowly approached the French doors, his steps stalled as he heard his older son speak to his youngest.
“Okay, Johnny I explained my technique to you, it’s your turn. I know the circumstances, under which we learned, weren’t the same but well… man to man the end result was basically the same, I’m sure,” Scott stated, ending with a nervous chuckle.
Not wanting to interrupt and possibly end the conversation as well as being curious as to what the boys were discussing, Murdoch pulled back so the swag of red velvet draperies hid his presence. His eyebrows rose in shock as Johnny begin to speak.
“Well, I don’t normally like to talk about it but when you’re under a lot of pressure you feel like… you have to do it as fast as you can… thrust it in, thrust it in thrust it in,” Johnny explained, unaware of the effect of his words on his father.
“I can’t tell you the number of times I found myself in that situation, especially during my time in the Cavalry,” Scott interrupted.
Murdoch grabbed the back of his chair as his legs threatened to fail him. He was flabbergasted…he knew young men had needs but he had never discussed it with his brother like his boys were doing, mainly because his sibling had been twelve years older than him. Taking a big swallow of his scotch to fortify himself he turned his attention back to the conversation as Johnny spoke again.
“I’ll bet you did, big brother. Sometimes though when there’s no particular hurry you can go as slow as you like… slide it in, slide it in, slide it in…then when you’re ready to shoot your load…all it takes is a little squeeze and boom…it explodes… and if your aim is good, you hit the target. I got so good at doing it right the first time because I couldn’t afford to waste bullets,” Johnny admitted.
Murdoch’s drink sloshed on his hand as he stumbled to his chair and dropped heavily into it as relief washed over him…his boys were teaching each other about loading guns with bullets.
September 1, 2009
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