Date: Fri, 13 Jun 2008 19:40:34 +0000
From: Steve Thomas <stevethomas535@hotmail.com>
Subject: Outing for Brian, Ch 15

This is a work of pure fiction, but based on the author's feelings,
beliefs, and in some cases, experience.  Come to think of it -- it might
not be all that pure! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times
between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat.  If you
are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading this kind
if story, shame on you for reading it - - please stop here.  If not, - -
ENJOY!

 Cast of characters:

Brian Weber -- That's me!
Deena -- my wife (Deceased)
Ronny -- my son.
Gary Foosdorf -- Mike's lover
Dmitri Polczek-- Neighbor
Ericka -- Dmitri's wife
Alexandra -- Dmitri's daughter
Muhammad Zarindast -- Friend
Stan -- Muhammad's Afghan hound.
Mick Azerov -- 26 year old American Freedom Contender
Keyvan & Sohrab -- Persian wards.


From Chapter 14:

The doorbell rang.  Both Keyvan and Sohrab jumped like they'd been shocked.
I opened the door and Mick was standing there with the two women behind
them.  He stepped aside and said, "Michele, this is Brian Weber."  I took
her hand and kissed it -- not knowing anything else to do.

"Michele, this is Ronny -- whom you have heard so much about from Mo.  And
this is Brian's partner, Gary."  Gary followed my lead.  "And -- I believe
you know these two movie stars over there."

Michele stepped in the room, where it was not so bright, and looked at her
brothers.  She wasn't quite sure at first but then she shrieked, "Keyvan!!
Sowwy!  You really DO look like movie stars!"  They were all over each
other kissing and hugging.

Quietly, the other woman entered.  I started to say something, but Mick
covertly shushed me.  She was clothed from head to toe in black -- only her
eyes were visible, and those she kept down.  She silently walked over to
the boys and raised her head, and swept away the veil on her face.

Each boy was dumbstruck.  Tears came streaming down their faces.  Their
mother gathered them both in her embrace and smothered them with kisses.
Now I understood why Mo wanted this to happen in private.


Chapter 15


"We have 15 minutes to get to the Sequoia," said Mick.  "Mo will meet us
there."

Seeing Mo's car was a little confusing to Stan and his feelings were
obviously hurt that he did not get to hop in.  But Mick sternly told him to
go to the house.  He went to the door, circled several times, licked his
genitals and then lay down on the porch with his tail between his legs.

Mick then opened the front passenger door for the boys' mother.  She
deferred and insisted that I sit there. Then Mick opened the rear door and
moved the jump seat forward and Ronny climbed up to the third seat,
followed by Gary and then Michelle.  Sohrab got in the middle seat,
followed by his mother, then Keyvan.

The boys clung to their mother, each of them hugging an arm with their
heads on her shoulders.

We arrived at the Sequoia with 2 minutes to spare.  2 parking attendants
opened all the doors, and we climbed the stairs up the elegant old
mansion/turned/restaurant.  We were shown to an opulently furnished room,
with seating for all of us, in a private setting.  At the head of the table
sat Mo, who arose immediately when his future mother-in-law entered.  He
strode to her and hugged her lightly, kissing the air beside each cheek. He
greeted each of is similar manner.

Michele hung back and made her entrance last.  They looked upon one
another, then proceeded to greet each other in the exact same manner that
Mo had greeted the rest of us, perhaps lingering slightly longer in each
others' eyes.  Gary squeezed my hand under the table.  I wished he could be
squeezing something else.

After all were seated, Mo stood and thanked each of us for coming.  He then
explained that the father of the boys -- and Michele -- was completely
unaware that his wife and daughter had come to America.  He didn't even
know that Michele might be marrying himself.

The next statement stunned the boys, though I had some inkling as he told
us the circumstances of her leaving -- and that she was not going back.  As
far as the father knew, Michele and her mother simply bolted and he was
probably making inquiries as he spoke, wondering where they may have gone.
Mo said that this man had not as much as made any inquiries -- at all --
when his boys disappeared -- though their mother knew.  He didn't have the
imagination to ever guess that they may have come to America.

Mo apologized to me and Gary for the secrecy, but felt it was "paramount
that no one knew anything while and until the escape was accomplished."

If anyone knew of the plans, it was tantamount to murder and kidnapping --
or worse -- to abduct a man's family.  If this man had any idea that Mo had
anything to do with this, he could possibly try to create trouble for Mo's
parents, though because of the diversity of their circumstances that would
be unlikely.  Mo's family was rich.

Mo told me later than the boy's father would probably take his own life,
because of the shame of his whole family leaving him.  I thought it
interesting that heartache was not mentioned -- only shame.

Mo had instructed Michele that the boys were only to be spoken to in
English, but there was no such rule to their mother.  Mo told me that this
was in deference and respect to her.  I told him that it was good for the
boys to be able to talk their native language to someone -- so they would
not forget it.  He reluctantly conceded the possibility of some benefit.

As we were eating our very American fare of (mostly) various cuts of beef,
green veggies, baked potato and red wine, the conversation around the table
waned a bit.  I looked at Ronny, his and Mick's heads seemingly touching,
Muhammad and Michele staring into one another eyes, communicating silently
as many lovers do -- especially when apart for an extended time.  But
something looked sad about them.  And both boys were talking intently with
their mother, I felt Gary's hand slip up onto my thigh, under the table.

But something about Mo and Michele was haunting me.  I checked it off as
cultural difference.

I closed my hand over Gary's and dragged it the few inches onto my fast
hardening member.  He squeezed it and I smiled appreciatively at him.  I
was almost ready to risk scorn by kissing him at the table, but good sense
prevailed -- and Mo's voice: (Always the perfect gentleman)

"I have rented a hotel suite for Keyvan and Sohrab -- and their sister and
mother -- to be together for this first night.  It is appropriate that they
should have this time.  If it is okay with you, after I get them settled, I
will come and stay in the Motor home I rented for them -- for tonight."  I
nodded.  "I have asked Mick to take Michele's family to their hotel -- at
Lake Tahoe.  "Of course Mick will probably want to take a friend - " Mick
and Ronny grinned.

That left me and Gary -- all alone in the house -- again!  We grinned at
each other, then at Mo.  I'm sure he realized what he was setting up.

When we got home, just Gary and me -- and Mo -- we asked him in for some
coffee.  He reluctantly followed us in.  He thought that we should rather
spend the time alone.  We told him we were okay and that we had just done
this last night.

Mo was somehow depressed as we started to talk about the events of the
afternoon.  I asked what was bothering him.  It has been a long day.  The
horses are still stuck in Tehran.  The US customs apparently has stricter
standards for animals than for humans -- for entrance to the States.
Anyone can come in here -- with any disease -- but a horse cannot have the
least virus -- or even a head cold."  He said bitterly.

"Well -- at least Michele is here."  I offered Then, "Oh!  I mean -- is
Michele going to have to return to bring them back?"

He was silent for a long time, then tears came to his eyes.  "What is it,
Mo?"

"It is nothing that I should share."

"You can tell us anything, Mo."  Said Gary.

Mo sat across from us and it was like watching pressure build up in a
boiler.  Finally he let out a blood curdling cry -- one more of frustration
and anger than anything else.  Then he told us.

"Michele can never go back there.  I will not allow it.  Her father -- when
he found that his boys were gone -- and when he figured out that his wife
was the one to arrange this -- he went off the deep end and -- did the only
thing he could do -- to hurt her the most."  Mo's lips were quivering and
his hands and shoulders shaking.

"Mo!"  I said in horror.  "Did he -- I mean -- he actually -- that is --
Michele?"

Mo nodded.  "Can anything be done?"  I said.

"They were his property.  They are no longer.  He will commit suicide now."

I wanted to ask -- but was afraid -- why Mo had not just taken care of
making sure that the scum was taken out.  But he said, "He has no reason to
live.  He has lost his manhood, and also the use of his arms and legs."

"Wow!  So you castrated him, then -- what?  Cut off his limbs?"

"No -- not castration.  I left him his testicles -- to be a constant
reminder that he has no organ to satisfy the cravings that his testicles
build up in him.  He is not a rich man -- so will be left a beggar on the
streets, not even able to feed himself."

Both Gary and I looked expectantly -- for the rest of the story.  "All you
need to know is that I have powerful friends in a very dark part of the
Tehran society.  I used to be -- an enforcer -- of their narrowness.  It is
not something that I am proud of now but - "

"You -- you -- used to torture people?"

"Men!  And I prefer to call it -- `persuasion' -- rather than torture.  I
thought that I had put that part of me behind -- but this man defiled the
woman I was to marry.  I fear I will be a single man all my life."

"What are you saying?"

"I cannot marry her now.  She would not want it.  She is soiled -- defiled.
She must live out her life, taking care of her mother.  She was my last
hope to be a father."

I went to where Mo was sitting.  I took both of his hands in mine.  "Mo --
you are not in Persia any more.  This is America -- and these old ways must
be put behind you.  That beautiful lady that I saw this afternoon -- is not
-- could not POSSIBLY -- be -- defiled!"

"You cannot understand." Said Mo.  Another man's seed has been placed in
her.  She is no longer a pure vessel."

I tried to look into his eyes to see if there was anything to reason within
there.  I saw a resolute dead end.  I took a chance.  "Mo -- you are what
-- 40-years-old?"

"I am 42."

"And in all those years -- you have not been with a woman?"

I was confident that this was not the case -- not for a rich Persian.

He looked at me like I was a space alien.  "What -- what are you asking me?
I have -- of course been with a woman!"

"And -- it is okay for you -- but when it happens to a woman -- against her
will -- she is defiled?"  I said.  "Don't you see the inconsistency in
that?"

"You don't understand!"  He said almost angrily.  "It is not the same in my
country."

"What is `YOUR' country?  I thought that the USA was your country."

"It is -- of course -- but -- You cannot possibly understand!"  He said
more agitated than before.  "It is different for a man than it is for a
woman!"  He had an almost fearful -- but even angrier look in his eyes.

"Mo -- you are not any different from Michele, Keyvan and Sohrab's father!
You are stuck in the old ways -- of `YOUR' country!  You want to blame
Michele for something that she has had absolutely nothing to do with."

"Sir -- you should not have insulted me like that!  You are talking about
something that you do not appreciate or understand!  I will hear nothing
more of this."

"Or what?"  I yelled.  "What will you do if I lose all respect for you?
You are no different than all those filthy Iranians that we fought with in
Tehran!"

"ENOUGH!"  He cried -- seemingly in desperation.  Then he leapt at me and
knocked me over, and in less than a half second, I found a gun in my face.
"You don't know what you are talking about!  She is defiled and there is
nothing - "

"So what are you going to do now -- kill me?"  I said, calmly.  "Then will
you have to kill Gary, I suppose -- so that he will not try to avenge me?"

Mo threw me down and ran from the house, and we heard his wheels spinning
in the dusty driveway.

"I guess he is not staying in the motor home tonight."  Quipped Gary.

"You think this is FUNNY?"  I exclaimed.

"No, of course not, Bri!  Calm down."  He said, getting off the love seat
and joining me on the floor.  "I just never noticed how really large your
balls really are!  I was trying to lighten up the situation.  You just
about got yourself killed.  And I'm afraid that -- you will now not want to
-- take advantage of our night alone."

"How can you think of sex at a time like this?"  I said, then heard my
words echo around the room and hit me squarely between the eyes!  "Good
grief!"  I said.  "Talk about a flash back!  That's what Dena used to say
-- to me!"

"Sorry, Bri. That was immature and - "

"No, really!  Am I just becoming an old fart?  I used to react like you!"
I said.  "I feel badly for Mo, but -- am I wrong?  Michele is beautiful --
in a goddess like way!  Does she deserve to be scorned because of something
she could not have prevented?"

"That's where your enormous balls come in!  You had the cojones to tell Mo
the truth.  You are so awesome!"

"I feel bad that I hurt his feelings -- and that he feels I insulted him.
But dammit -- I am right!"

"You are!  And -- my sweet lover -- he will be back -- and -- I know him!
He'll come back bearing gifts -- as if he hasn't given us enough already --
and ask forgiveness.  And he will tell you that you have once again saved
him.  He's good at self effacement.  And Bri -- he'd be right.  You
probably HAVE saved him -- again."

"You -- you -- really think he'll change his mind?"

"I really do.  Bri -- you were awesome!"

I lay back on my back on the floor and closed my eyes.  "I can't quite
believe how my life has chanced in less than a year -- all because my son
turned eighteen.  I've been to Iran, came close to being killed, and
watched my son being tortured -- oh my GOD he made me proud!  And of course
the sweetest thing was -- I found you!  I don't know what I'd have done
without you!"

My eyes were still closed when I felt his hand on my face.  Then he moved
it to my neck and back and pulled himself close to me and then - - I felt
his warm moist lips on my own.  I relaxed a little more and my closed eyes
filled with tears.  He kissed them away.

"I love you so much, Bri!  I can't express it, but -- but -- I guess you
are what I have been waiting for -- the reason for my existence -- or at
least that's how I feel."

I kissed him back, and rolled on top of him.  "Oh, Gary -- I have so much
to be thankful -- to God -- for, and you are at the top of that list.  I
kissed him deeply, and our nether regions reacted appropriately.  He
stroked my face and put his hand up inside my shirt, lightly rubbing the
skin of my torso.  He caressed my nipples and I moaned a little, and he
pulled me down on him hard.  There was a very light tap at the front door.
We would not have heard it -- if we weren't 3 feet from it.

Both of us sprang up -- readjusted the tents in our trousers.  I cracked
open the front door. "Come in."  I said.

Mo entered the room and actually knelt in front of me.  "Please -- I have
not the vocabulary to tell you what I am feeling right now -- but -- please
-- PLEASE -- forgive me.  You are right.  I AM no different from those
filthy - "

"Mo -- I spoke too rashly -- certainly out of turn."  I said.

"That may be -- but the fact is -- you were right.  Oh, my friend -- can I
ever make things right between us.  I reacted in the most despicable way
possible.  I could not get your initial look on your face -- when I -- it's
hard to even admit it now -- that I actually drew my gun on you -- but then
to put it in your face!  I am filled with shame!  I shall ever be your
slave"

He was kneeling at my feet; I made to lift him up.  He grabbed my legs.  "I
am not worthy to look you in the eyes -- ever again.  I only came back to
tell you -- that -- I will not ever darken your door -- or your life
--again.  I will not bother you with my ignorance!  I shall not ever - "

"MO!"  I exclaimed.  "Just stop!  You are my friend for life.  I know as a
Muslin you believe Jesus Christ to be a great teacher.  Well, you are now
living in a nation built on Christianity.  And this means that you must
learn about forgiveness: how to give it and how to receive it.  No one
needs to know what happened here tonight.  I am hoping that you can find it
in your heart to overlook what happened to Michele.  She doesn't deserve to
be doubly hurt."

"But -- she is the one who told me that she is not worthy of me -- that she
is forever defiled.  How can I - "

"I don't know `how can you' -- but this much I DO know: you must!  You must
convince her that what happened -- is in the past -- and that she bears no
blame."

"Yes -- I know that's true.  I owe you my life, my friend.  I will go back
to Persia and personally make sure that that disgusting bastard commits
suicide.  And if he doesn't -- I'll finish it for him.  It's the least I
can do for Michele.  He doesn't deserve to - "

"Mo."  I said, as I came down to his level.  "No."  I said, looking
directly into his tortured eyes.  You must not.  I won't be so foolish to
tell you -- at this time -- to forgive him.  But -- he now has to live with
what he has done -- for the rest of his life -- which, as you have said, he
may elect to cut short.  But Mo -- my dear friend -- If you kill him, you
risk the scorn of your wife -- who on some level loves this man.  Even the
memory of love that she used to have may be enough to hold you in contempt
-- for killing him."

"You are right again -- and I want to change my way.  I want to become an
American.  This is not the American way -- is it?"

"I hope not.  But a lifetime of culture is not easy to shake off.  You are
a good man, Mo.  You'll do fine.  Just don't be too impulsive in your
actions."

"You are wise for your age, my friend."

"I think that too is a case of culture."

"I think you are too modest.  I have known many in this country who do not
act as evenly as you do."

"There are many cultures in this country.  My heritage comes form my father
--and from his -- and so on."

"You have reason to be proud, but I know that you are humble -- and that is
better than proud.  I -- for one -- AM proud -- to call you my friend."

I got up and raised him up as well, then hugged him.  He was stiff, (his
body -- perverts!) but accepted my hug and my words: "I love you too, Mo."

Mo blushed, then said, "We don't speak so directly in my cul -- AHEM -- my
FORMER culture!  It's going to take some getting used to."

I laughed.  "Um -- don't forget -- I'm gay!  That's a whole `nother
culture!"  I grinned.

"Yes -- and with your permission, I'll retire to the motor home and - let
you and Gary get back to whatever you were doing -- before I interrupted.
By the looks of Gary's hair and shirt -- it must have been something fun!"
Mo blushed and grinned.  "I am trying!"  He added.  We all laughed.

Mo left and whistled low.  There was a whine from Stan and we saw his
silhouette cross the window.  "I wonder how much he saw before he knocked!"
Said Gary.  "with no shade on the window -- we maybe ought to be more
careful."

"Either that or get a shade."  I said.  "For now, let's go to our bedroom."
I grabbed him and dragged him down the hall to our room.  He immediately
removed my shirt and I his.  We came together, our bodies craving one
another, and our hard maleness pressing each other under our trousers.  I
spied a dark spot on his pants and I unfastened them and he followed suit,
and we let them fall to our feet -- and stepped out, and we fell onto the
bed together.

He ended up on top of me.  He ground his pelvis into mine, and kissed me
tenderly.  "We don't do this enough!"  He said, as he removed my
briefs. The wetness on the front of them was no more than his own.  He
brought them up to his nose, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.  He blew
out the air slowly, and said, "Omigosh that turns me on!"

I removed his boxers and did the same.  I sucked on the wet spot.  "Tastes
good too!"  I said, grinning.

We turned off the light and locked the door -- why I'm not sure -- we WERE
alone in the house.  But in this house you never know what might happen.

Nothing happened.

Well -- that's not quite true.  A LOT happened in our bed!  We were again
up half the night -- finding new ways to pleasure each other.  My favorite
is when he sits astride me, and rides me until he's ready to blow, then I
jack him off, while thrusting from the bottom -- and we love it when we can
coordinate it perfectly.  Our mutual cries only serve to deepen the feeling
we otherwise would have had.

It was possibly the pent up pressure -- but whatever it was, I didn't know
I needed it so much.  We both slept like babies.  I woke up at close to
9:30 AM -- almost unheard of for me -- (uh -- we didn't GO to sleep until
5:30!) and Gary was not in the bed.  Just as I was about to wonder where he
was, he quietly peeked around the door and when he saw I was awake, he
grinned ear to ear.

"Hi, Papa!"  He said.

"Hi Baby."  I carried on his line.

"Mo's car is gone."

"Anyone else's here?"  I said.

"N-n-n-n-nope!"  he said with a grin.  But just in case he again closed and
locked our door.  "I have an idea!"  He said, "Let's get rich and retire so
we can do this every day!"

"You wanna wear me out?"  I asked.

"Why?  Are you getting close?"

"Not yet, but with a little help, I'll bet you can get me all the way!
Sweetheart, I don't think I'll ever get too much of you."

"How about if I take some of those penis pills?  They claim that you can
add 3 -- 4 inches!"  He said.

"Hmm -- that'd make you about 5", right?"  I quipped.  He pouted.  "I
dunno!  You may choke me with anything that big!  I think I'll take you as
you are!"  I laughed.

"Aww -- I'm sure you could take it all!"

"All those guys in the porn films seem to be half soft.  I wonder if a
monster as big as 8 1/2" can even support itself."  I said.

"That's something you'll never have to worry about.  You're like a steel
rod!"  He said.

"Well -- you too. And all kidding aside -- I think your 5 ½" will always be
enough for me."

He pouted again.  "You THINK so, huh?"

"I KNOW so, Baby Boy."

"I love it when you take it all -- including my nuts -- in your mouth.  I
dunno -- it's not as if you can really do anything with it when it's in
that far -- but -- it's just somehow satisfying to me.  It's as if --
you're -- sacrificing -- or something -- for me and -- I love you for it.
I wish -- um -- that I could do that without choking.  You're not that much
bigger than I am."

"It's a mind-over-matter thing, Gary.  I'm a little longer than you are,
but mines not as fat as yours.  It should slip down easily.  But you have
to be able to relax.  Relax and swallow.  Relax - - - and - - - swallow."

"Gosh, you turn me on!"  He said.

Looking at his dick at full mast, I replied, "Well, I'm glad it's me.
Because it's obvious SOMETHING is turning you on!"

"It's all your talk of swallowing my meat.  But - - I wanna do you -- all
the way down -- right now."

"It won't be easy."  I warned.  "You might not be able to do it right
away."

"I have time -- do you?"  He said with a delicious smile.

I was right.  It WASN'T easy.  It took quite a few attempts before he was
able to ignore his gag reflex.  But he was determined -- and -- I didn't
mind it at all!

"How come you can swallow so easily?  Like you said, I'm not THAT much
smaller than you!"  He pouted.

Size doesn't matter."  I said.

"That's what all little guys say!"  He quipped.

"I'm not little -- and you aren't either.  We're both well within the
normal range."

"But you're skinnier dick should be easier -- for me -- so swallow."

"Like I said -- look at it this way: I'm like a sword-swallower.  When
Ronny was a baby, he liked to put his whole hand down my throat.  And I let
him.  Deena thought I was crazy.  I'm just not as sensitive as you are."

"Yeah -- I'm just your super-sensitive gay-boy!"  He said.

"I'm glad you are.  I'm glad you get so crazy!  It makes my experience --
my orgasms -- much more intense too.  Omigosh!  They were never anything
like this with Deena!

"I wanna do it once more -- just for practice."

"Only if I get a turn!"  I said.

"You go first."  He said.

I sucked him off in record time.  He got really wild -- probably because he
was super sensitized from last night.  He again lost his head and rammed it
down like he thought it was my anus pounding it home over and over until he
let loose his load, and then he more or less grabbed my head and held it as
deep as he could only vibrating it somewhat, while crying out.  I wondered
how long I could hold my breath.

When he was finished, tears streaming -- from the wild orgasm -- he begged
my forgiveness for getting so wild in my face.

"Oh, Gary, I live for that, Baby!"  I said.  My throat was sore and
burning, but I was not lying.

"Bri?"  He said.

"Yeah?"

"Please -- don't do that to me."  He said it almost fearfully.

"Don't worry."  I said.  I would do anything for this sweet man.  Holding
back my orgasm -- is -- hard -- but it's worth it.

When I got close -- after he slowly worked his way down to swallowing all
of me -- and then putting his finger in my bum and stroking my prostate at
the same time he bobbed carefully.  It felt great, and I almost lost it,
but - - I didn't.

I think he could tell I was concentrating and he pulled out.  By that time,
he was at full mast again, so he said, "Here, your turn to get on top of
me.  He lay on his back and I impaled myself on his glistening pole, and he
immediately started thrusting from below, skillfully hitting my prostate
with every stoke, while jack-hammering my own meat with his free hand.

I was soon back to my edge, and this time I let myself go over it, and when
I came, it was like an out of body experience. I came and came -- all over
his face, chest and tummy.  While my orgasm was still pulsing, he started
to shoot his juice up inside me.  He again ravished me -- pounding it home
as deep and hard as he could.  But -- this time it didn't hurt.  It was
exquisite.  I had already cum, but it felt almost like a second orgasm --
but centered in my bum instead.

I was also mesmerized by his facial expressions as he let his load go.
First it was like intense concentration as he was jack-hammering me and
thrusting with all his might.  Then he got almost like a surprised look,
followed by a wild -- not quite in control -- look.  When he started
shooting, he scrunched up his face, and I then had to close my own eyes, as
that (I'm gonna call it a) anal orgasm really took ME by surprise.

It was intensified as his jizz covered my insides with creamy lubricant.
Then it was as if everything slowed down to slow motion, as I felt each
hammering blow as he rammed it up inside.

When he finished, I fell on top of him and his skin was hot and icy, as my
cum had started to cool from evaporation.  It felt tingly -- I think.  But
then I felt tingly all over anyway, so -- anyway, I had the presence of
mind to wrap my hands around him, holding his butt -- almost savagely, and
kissing him -- well -- not exactly tenderly.  We were both -- at the same
time -- completely spent but -- somehow -- energized at the same time.

"Oh Brian -- Oh my God, Bri! -- that was -- I mean -- oh -- oh -- oh!  I
love you soooooo much!!"

"I know, baby -- I know!"  I said.  "I know -- because I feel the same.
And -- I know that when we cool off from this -- I'll love you just as much
-- or more!"

I rolled off him and we both passed out for about four hours.

We were awakened by a knock at the door.  "Dad!?  Are you okay?"

"Wha -- huh -- what?"  I said, groggily.  "Ronny?  What?  Are you -- what's
wrong?"

I flew to the door and opened it wide.  Ronny stood there with a surprised
look at first then said, "I've been knocking and calling your name for at
least a minute.  I was worried when you didn't answer.  Are you -- well --
you look okay.  Maybe a little -- um -- (haha!)  cummy?  Haha!  So --
you're okay -- right?"

I looked down and indeed, dried cum all over my torso. "Omigosh -- I'm
naked!"  I thought I mostly closed the door and stepped behind it.  I
looked back at Gary and he was already under the sheet, stifling a laugh.

"Sorry about that, Ron.  Yeah, we're fine.  Did you have a good time?"

"Sure!  We saw a great show, then came back home last night.  We're going
back this afternoon to pick up the others.  Where's Mo?"

"Isn't his car out there?"

"No."

"Well, he probably left sometime this morning.  We slept in."

"I just bet you did!  After partying all night -- right?"

"Haha!  And half of the day!"  I bragged.

"You're crazy!"  Ronny said.  "So -- are you -- a little -- sore?"  He said
in a conspiratorial voice.

"None of your business!"  Hollered Gary from the bad.  We all laughed.

"I am a little sore, actually."  I said, unconsciously squeezing my
softness.  "That brute back there nearly reamed me a new hole!"

"Yeah -- Dad -- I needed to hear that!"

"You started it!"  I said.

"I guess I did.  Well -- whatever turns you on!"  Said Ronny.

"It's `whatever lubes your tube'!"  hollered Gary.

"Oh my gosh!"  said Ronny, almost doubled over laughing.  "Okay, I'll leave
you two alone and fix some lunch -- assuming you have not taken time to eat
yet!"

"Oh, we've been eating all right! -- you probably don't want to know what!"
Said Gary.  "But somehow -- we're still hungry!"

"Hmm -- it must have been Chinese, huh?"  He said.  "Sweet and sour dick?"
He laughed as he walked out to the kitchen.

I closed the door and looked at me sweetheart.  He threw off the sheet and
had dried cum all over him: still -- on his face, on his chest, in his
hair.  "Guess we need to get cleaned up!"  I said.

We went to the shower and didn't do anything more than wash each other off
-- after kissing -- while both of us relieved our bladders.

As we were drying off, Gary said, "I don't know if I'll ever get used to
your kid!"

"Sounded to me like you already are!  You kept up with him just fine!"

"It was a bit out of my zone.  But it was fun.  It's funny -- he really is
like a little brother, but at the same time -- like -- my son.  I really
love him."

"I know he loves you too."

"Mostly because he knows I love his dad to pieces."  Gary said.

"No more than his dad loves you!"  I replied.  We kissed again, got dressed
and went to the kitchen, where my boy -- erm -- I mean -- OUR boy -- had
tuna sandwiches made for our lunch.

Notes: Comments welcome -- to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com.  Thanks
and -- Love, Steve