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Historical Education	By : Bloodylocks Category: S through Z > Smokin' Aces Views: 1615 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Smokin Acres, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Historical Education
- 1
Author's Note: I'm surprised I haven't seen any Smokin' Aces fics, let alone ones about everyone's favorite redneck skinhead speedfreak brothers. Damn, these guys are fun to write.
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Lester had to admit he liked going to history museums. However, he took no interest in how America was born or how homes were made in sides of cliffs. Hell, he hardly knew who the Wright brothers were, or how many times it took them to make a working light bulb. What interested him was the gallery of war technology.
So, one day as the Tremor brothers had some time to kill in Pennsylvania, Lester decided to skip an ice cream like Darwin and Jeeves did and use his money to take them to a museum. They followed along eagerly, although Darwin could not help trying several times to see how close he could get to priceless artifacts without the security alarms going off.
“What’s this ‘un?” Jeeves asked, walking up behind Lester as he viewed a practically ancient looking pistol under a box of glass.
“This is a 44. caliber… Russian too.”
“Motherfuckin’ Soviet guns…” the taller man sneered. “Let’s git outta ‘ere, I’m bored.”
“It sure is a mighty good lookin’ gun,” the bald man mused to himself before responding to his baby brother. “Yer always bored.”
“I could steal it fer ya,” Jeeves suggested. Lester grinned widely at such a nice gesture.
“Naw, the alarm would go off. They’d know it was us…”
SMASH!!
“Whoopsie!”
Jeeves and Lester turned their heads in the direction of the noise and saw that Darwin had “accidentally” fallen onto a platform showcasing a miniature of a battle scene. The entire display had been knocked to the ground and was now in pieces. As Darwin hollered about the safety of museums to surprised onlookers, security alarm ringing loudly throughout the vast space, Lester stood thirty feet away and surprisingly formed an idea. With the proper distraction before him, he nodded to his little brother. Jeeves smiled triumphantly and smashed the casing of the Russian pistol. As soon as the guards had arrived to the scene of destruction, the two youngest of the Tremor trio had slipped away past other visitors and waited outside for their brother and leader to be kicked from the museum.
Shacking up in their pickup truck, the brothers celebrated their victory over the capitalist pig fortress known as the museum with welcome shots of bourbon in the carriage of the vehicle, aftermarket camper shell shielding their merriment from the patter of rain outside.
Two bottles of Heaven Hill later, Darwin was undoing the buckle of his trousers and urging Lester to do the same. Jeeves, already down to his underwear, was taken to nipping at Lester’s ass in a joyful, inebriated fashion. Though they were considerate to take turns, as any family should have been, the brothers often never had to verbally discuss who would play which part of this game. One would automatically take some sort of position and the others would follow. However, in the states they were all in, two assumed a dominant position and left them confused for a few seconds as to what to do.
Lester finally fell onto his back, head in the direction of Darwin and legs spread before Jeeves. Each of his hands guided the two men into their respected positions, Jeeves already stroking his third leg hard enough to stab someone in the head and Darwin easing his cock into an open, waiting mouth. The tip of Darwin’s tongue was already wetting his lips as he felt the fuck-hole beneath him begin to stimulate his pulsing organ. Jeeves, entranced by the tongue, leant forward as he entered Lester’s snug channel, taking this eldest brother’s lips into his own mouth. Darwin kissed back as he felt a warm tongue and lips ruling over his rigid shaft like a lustful emperor.
Moaning within his tireless work on Darwin Junior, Lester felt Jeeves' thick organ press perfectly onto his prostate on every single plunge and he bucked his hips in drunken enthusiasm. Large hands massaging his stomach were met by his own as he led them to where he desired to be touched. Within seconds, his own dick sprang to life like a Nazi salute. Lips furiously engaged in passionate battle as Darwin’s hands grasped the mounds of muscle on his youngest brother. Their kisses would possibly leave bruises, but they hardly gave a rat’s ass, and the eldest Tremor brother grabbed a fistful of dark hair on Jeeves’ scalp, pulling the head aside and diving his teeth and lips into sweat covered valleys of flesh on the powerful neck. Ramming without leniency, the youngest brother’s grunts became sharp, loud moans, joining in a decadent chorus of balls slapping against ass cheeks, squeaks of the truck as it bounced in time with the brothers’ movement, and cries of wild, reckless, intoxicated satisfaction.
Lester’s moans, though gagged by Darwin’s intruding member, were finally ended when he came, his seed leaving a sticky trail up the taut abdominal muscles of his little brother, who came shortly afterwards. Darwin gave a long, gravelly moan as he pulled out of Lester’s mouth, the teamwork of both his brothers’ lips finally reaching their goal. The bald young man beneath his loins wore a thick white beard of ejaculate when he looked down at the blissful face.
The Tremor brothers each took their own time to compose themselves before they decided who should sleep in the front seats in case they needed to leave quickly. Darwin announced his compliance to head up front and sluggishly tried to put his clothes on as he went. Finding a ratty old sleeping bag acquired ages ago, Jeeves pulled it up over himself as he awkwardly tried to shift into a comfortable position, made difficult for the size of the truck’s carriage and his six and a half foot frame. Of course his feet stuck out at the bottom of the makeshift blanket. Lester followed under the cover, snuggling close to the large warm body, their unclothed skin making full contact.
“Thanks fer th’gun,” he said, resting his head on a sturdy shoulder. Jeeves made an agreeable noise, his eyelids heavy with sleep and alcohol.
“Ain’t nothin’,” he replied.
Sure it was, Lester thought, but he did not bother arguing. He was grateful and his little brother knew it. Giving a tired sigh, he listened to the rain hitting against the camper shell, but it was Jeeves’ soft breathing and reassuring heartbeat which finally inspired him to join in sleep. And in his slumber he dreamt of using his pretty little Soviet gun.
END.
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Historical Education