Date: Fri, 3 Jul 2015 23:11:34 +0200
From: Nick Brady <y2kslacker@mail.com>
Subject: Marco in the Park - Part 11

Marco in the Park - Part 11

This story includes consensual sex between a teenage boy and a young man,
so you should be 18 to read it.  Please send comments to
y2kslacker@mail.com and please make donations to Nifty.

Copyright 2015 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.


------------------------------------


	As usual Marco was up and dressed before me, "Let's go, Marty. If
we hurry we can see another sunrise."

	"I guess this will be our last chance to see the sun come up over
the ocean," I agreed.

I dressed, grabbed a jacket and we jogged over to the gulf side on the
island. The rain had stopped but there were still a lot of low hanging
clouds overhead. I wasn't sure that we would see much of a sunrise, but we
sat on a relatively dry patch of sand above the water and waited.

It was still twilight but there was a lighter area of pale blue near the
horizon which began to grow pink in the distance. As the sky lightened the
thin horizon turned to dull orange. The area under the clouds was open near
the horizon and started to turn a brighter red at the point where the sun
would soon appear. In a moment the bright white orange edge of the morning
sun peeked up under the layer of clouds, illuminating the sky with streaks
of red that touched the clouds and turned the sky into a rippling ceiling
of color. We could see the disk rise and then tuck behind the clouds, the
sun passing through the thin layer of open sky at the far horizon like a
ball of white light until the sky grew much lighter before the rising sun
passed behind the clouds and made a long shimmering path of reflected light
extending to the water just beneath us. It was a very different sunrise
than we had seen the previous morning, but very beautiful.

	"Wow," Marco exclaimed. "I guess every day is different," he was
holding my hand.

We kissed and tried to memorize the moment. After several minutes our empty
stomachs made themselves known and we rose and walked slowly back to our
hotel.

Breakfast was waiting and Marco enjoyed the waffle machine again, making
himself two nice waffles which he slathered with butter and covered with
sliced peaches from one of the containers. I declined a waffle, had cold
cereal and made myself some wheat toast. Having satisfied our hunger we
returned to our room.

After we packed our bags and filled our cooler with ice. It was a little
after 8:00 and time to retrieve our fish from the day before. We slipped
out of the hotel and loaded the car for the drive to San Antonio. As we
pulled up to Bobby's boat slip he was sitting in his folding chair wearing
a yellow rain slicker.

	"There you boys are," he called to us. "I thought you might be
donating these snapper to me."

	"No sir," Marco replied. "Those fish we ate last night were too
good to abandon the rest. We want to take them home with us."

	Bobby laughed his hearty laugh. "Well here's your fish, filleted
and frozen. You got an ice chest for them?"

	"We filled it with ice at the hotel. I think they will make it OK."
I told him.

We placed the treasure in the ice chest safely tucked into the trunk of my
Camry and shook hands all around.

	"Thank you again," Marco said sincerely. "I think that was the most
fun I ever had."

	"Bobby smiled at him. "I enjoyed it too. You boys was fun. I hope
you'll come back and see me. Next time we'll find you some really big
ones."

We promised to return and assured him that we would look him up. After a
few minutes of conversation, mostly from Bobby, we got in the car and
started our trip back north. I drove as far as Harlingen, turned north on
Interstate 77 then let Marco drive again. He took the wheel with a big
grin.

	"You know, that's a good idea about saving up for a car. Mom had an
old Chevrolet that I drove around but I never had a car of my own. I like
your Camry, maybe I can find something like this for myself. A used one but
maybe something decent." Marco was chattering along, obviously in a good
mood.

	"I bet you can. This one was a couple of years old when I got
it. The important thing is to find one that has been well maintained, maybe
a Toyota, Nissan, or Honda, they are pretty reliable."

We talked about cars, about fishing, and about the sunrises. We had enjoyed
our brief stay in South Padre. I got on my cell phone, used Google to find
some numbers and made reservations for a room and for dinner on one of the
boats that plied the river. Marco was only half listening and I hoped the
accommodations would be something of a surprise for him. We stopped once
for gas and a soda and drove into San Antonio just after noon.

	"Here we are," Marco grinned. "You are the tour guide, what do we
do first?"

	"Well, San Antonio has a really nice zoo. What would you think
about that?"

	"I love zoos. It would be nice to do some walking anyway," Marco
agreed. "I'm good for the zoo."

	"Your wish is my command. It's not all that far, just north of
downtown on Broadway in Breckinridge Park. The park is nice too."

	Marco gave me an evil grin. "I like parks."

	"Ha, I know you do. But using a picnic table in the middle of the
day might not work." I reminded him.

	"That's what we have a hotel room for," he grinned.

We pulled into Breckenridge Park and followed the signs to the Zoo
entrance. I bought a pair of tickets for us and we went inside. It was a
big zoo with walkways going in all directions.

	"What's that over there?" Marco pointed to what looked like a small
train Depot.

	"That's the Breckenridge Eagle. It's a replica of an old fashioned
steam engine. Do you want to ride it? It will take us all around the zoo
and sort of give us an overview of the place," I suggested.

	"Great idea," Marco took out his wallet. "This is on me."

The train pulled a long string of open cars with a few young children and
parents waiting expectantly for it to start moving. We jumped into one of
the cars near the rear like we were a couple of kids ourselves. In a few
minutes an older guy came out wearing striped overalls and a railroad
cap. He started the engine which sounded like a big lawnmower, bellowed
"All aboard", and we were off.

The little train wandered all around the zoo and we could see the various
exhibits, all kinds of animals and birds. We got an idea of what we wanted
to go back and visit. It was a long ride, I guessed maybe five miles in all
and we pointed and giggled like the younger kids in front of us. It stopped
at one point and we got off at another little depot where they had a
concession selling food and grabbed a couple of hamburgers. Before long the
train, or another just like it, stopped and we got back on to continue our
tour back to where we started.

	"That was cool," Marco said with a big grin. "I want to look at the
elephant."

We hiked over to a big pen where a sign identified the old fellow as 'Lucky
the elephant'.

	Marco was very impressed with Lucky. "How did they get that thing
all the way from Africa?" he wondered.

	"I don't know," I said, "But he didn't come from Africa.  That's an
Asian elephant."

	"How do you know?"

	"Because he has little ears. African elephants have great big
ears," I explained.

 	"That's right. I remember something in school about that," Marco
agreed. We bought a little bag of peanuts and let the big fellow pluck them
from our hands with his long trunk.

We wandered all around admiring the various exhibits. There was a great
flock of pink flamencos with long curved necks. We saw lions and tigers,
crazy looking monkeys, all kinds of animals and birds, even reptiles. They
had almost everything and we were having a good time. It felt great to walk
after being cooped up in the car all morning.

At five o'clock we started back for the entrance. By then we had walked
enough.

	"Let's go to our hotel," I suggested. "We need to check in, and we
have dinner reservations for 6:30."

We got back in my car and drove downtown to the big Marriott on the river.

	"Are we staying here?" Marco asked.

	"Wait until you see our room," I told him.

It was a big hotel right on the river. We took the elevator about half way
up and let ourselves inside. The first thing Marco spotted was the big
kingsize bed. The next thing he did was to go over to the outside sliding
glass door. We opened it and looked outside.

	Marco looked down. "Wow, there is the Riverwalk. We can look right
down on the river. How cool is that?"

	I stood behind him with my arms around his waist. "Hey, it only
costs a little more to go first class," I gave him a hug and kissed him on
the neck." We leaned over the edge of our balcony and looked up and down
the river.

We went into the bathroom and fenced with the yellow streams of urine as we
relieved ourselves of the afternoon accumulation of water.

	Marco looked with admiration at the walk in shower. "We can check
that out later," he said with a grin.

	"Right. We have dinner reservations," I told him. "It's just a
short walk."

	As we rode down in the elevator, he asked. "Where are we going to
eat?"

	"It' a surprise," I said mysteriously.

	We walked down the river to Commerce street where the dinner barges
were docked. His eyes lit up.

	"Are we eating on one of those?"

	"Yes sir. You said you would like to do that. We get to eat dinner
while we enjoy a tour of the river."

	 "Way cool!" he grinned.

Promptly at 6:30 we were ushered onto a little barge which had a long table
down the center, laid out with a nice table cloth and set with plates, s
ilver and pretty glassware.  It looked very elegant. There were maybe 8
other people there and we joined them to sit at the end of the table
opposite each other. Marco's smile practically wrapped around his
ears. Next to us was a family of four which included two excited children,
a boy and a girl we guessed to be about 8 and 10 years old. I wasn't sure
who was the most excited.

After a few minutes it appeared that all were aboard who were scheduled to
be there, our captain clicked clicked shut the entrance and the boat
started to move. As we chugged up the river the man operating the boat
began to point out the various places of interest as we passed, and a young
man in much the same outfit that Marco wore when he worked at Luigi's began
to serve us.

	"What's for dinner?" he asked.

	"Everything is preordered," I explained. "I didn't want to spoil
the surprise by asking in advance what you wanted, so I ordered a steak and
a grilled salmon. You can take your pick."

	"I can always eat a steak," he said, "but I don't really care."

	"Actually, I would rather have the salmon, so that works out fine,"
I said.

We asked for ice tea which came to us with a crisp salad and a basket of
hot rolls wrapped in a cloth napkin with real butter on a plate. We helped
ourselves and enjoyed looking at the sights as pointed out by our guide. On
the sidewalk were people at tables in front of the many places to eat on
the river. They were watching us go by, just as we had looked at the dinner
barges going by earlier in the week when we first visited.

	"This is really fun," Marco grinned.

	"I knew you would like it. I have never done this before either. I
was looking for an excuse," I admitted.

The salad dishes were removed by our server and replaced with the
entrées, a nice strip steak for Marco and grilled salmon for me, both
with a baked potato on the side. The food had all been prepared prior to
boarding so was basically like airline food, but very tasty. We did justice
to it and cleaned our plates. Our hike through the zoo had given us healthy
appetites. We leaned back and watched as the Riverwalk rolled by, half
listening to the tour guide as he pointed out the various features along
the way.

We reached the end of the built up area and turned around, heading back on
the other side. There was a clever amphitheater with a performing space on
one side of the river and seating carved into the other. I thought that San
Antonio might be a nice place to live if I ever left Tulsa for one reason
or another. I looked over at Marco who had a very contented look on his
face. We were having fun, enjoying ourselves. This was a good thing.

On the way back our plates were cleared and we were served a dessert,
peanut butter pie with strawberry jam.

	Marco took one look and laughed. "This is even better than pancakes
with peanut butter and jam." He dug in and licked the residue from his
fork, leaned back and drained the rest of his iced tea.

	"I could do this all the time," he said with a contented
smile. "Thanks, Marty. This was a real treat. Another memory with you."

I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. The kids seated next to
us had maintained a constant chatter during the whole tour. They were nice
kids, well behaved and obviously enjoying the experience. I thought maybe
little kids might be OK if they were this pleasant. Obviously the work of
good parenting. I smiled at their mom and dad.

	"We have enjoyed your children," I said to them.

	The father replied quietly. "We threatened them with death if they
didn't behave," then he laughed. "They are good kids. We enjoy them –
most of the time."

	He looked at Marco and me, "You brothers?"

	"Just good friends," I replied. He nodded and smiled. This was
going well.

We walked back to our hotel, taking our time, stopping several times to
listen to the music floating out from some of the night spots. It was
growing late and we had to make an early start in the morning. We got back
to the Marriott about 10:00 and went up to our room. Marco went out to our
balcony and sat down on one of the chairs out there. I joined him in the
other. We didn't say much, just held hands and looked at the panorama below
us. The lights of the city spread out in a twinkling carpet of
streetlights, moving automobiles and windows of tall buildings. We could
see the Tower of the Americas above us, the restaurant on top slowly
revolving.

	Marco nodded towards it. "Maybe next time."

	I nodded in return. "There will be lots of next times, Marco."

We sat until we began to get sleepy. First Marco then I moved inside and
began to undress. The shower beckoned.

Marco stepped in and adjusted the water to a warm but not quite hot
temperature. The shower dance was one of our favorite things. I washed his
hair, then his slender body, he did the same to me. We dried each other off
and slipped into the nice fresh bed, instinctively moving to the center to
hold each other close. We enjoyed the touch of bare skin but were tired,
and full of good food. We kissed and stroked the others back, but were not
really in the mood for the strenuous activity that sex required. As if by
unspoken mutual agreement, we fell asleep in each others arms. My last
thought was how wonderful his long black hair felt on my face.

When I woke up the next morning I noticed that the bed was empty. I looked
for Marco and saw him sitting out on the balcony, dressed and apparently
ready for the days travel. I went into the bathroom for the morning ritual
of emptying my bladder and brushing my teeth, dressed and went out to sit
next to him.

	He turned to me as I sat down. "This has been so great Marty. I
love you very much. Thanks for everything."

	"Tell me how great you feel when you get off work tonight."

	He chuckled. "I can sleep late tomorrow. I'll be fine."

	"You ready for breakfast? Maybe they have one of those waffle
irons."

	"How about we order a really nice breakfast. I've gotten off pretty
light for meals."

	"Sounds good to me. You ready?"

We packed away our things and went downstairs to the dining room. A cute
girl brought us coffee and a pair of menus.

	I ordered a Denver omelet and Marco asked me, "What's eggs
Benedict?"

	"It's like poached eggs on an English muffin with hollandaise sauce
on top."

	"Is it good?"

	I looked at the menu. "It must be, it costs $14.95."

	"Works for me. I'll take that," he told the waitress. She smiled
and took away the menus.

It was a nice breakfast. Marco paid the tab and we went out to the car and
started home.

It was a long drive. We left San Antonio just after 6:30 and Marco drove.
We rode in silence for a little while then I brought up something that was
bothering me.

	I was thinking about your mother," I said.

	"What about her?"

	"Well, you met my Mom. She is really a neat lady, and it bother me
that you and your mother are hardly speaking."

	"Yeah?"

	"Did you ever wonder why she is the way she is? I mean, what do you
know about her life, the way she grew up? Something had to make her the way
she is. People aren't born mean and bitter."

	Marco was quiet for a few minutes. I guessed that he was either
thinking about the question or else he just didn't want to talk about
it. At any rate, it was his turn either to respond or to let it pass.

	"She didn't talk about that much. I think she had a shitty
deal. She never talked about her parents and I never met them. I just don't
know."

	Marco drove in silence for awhile, then he said. "Actually, that's
not completely true, I guess it is just hard to talk about."

	"When I was younger, before she got to where she was drunk all the
time, I remember her telling me that she, well...., I guess she was abused
you might say. She told me one time that she was living with her
grandmother and her father came to see her. I guess she was in her early
teens. He brought her some kind of a present and was trying to make nice
with her, you know? And then in the night he came to her and lay down with
her and started kissing her and feeling her up. That's what she said.

	"Then she kind of laughed and told me that lucky for her, she was
having her period and when he put his hand on her, down there, he got mad
and left her alone. She was lucky, see? I don't know Marty, that's what she
told me. I think she was kind of drunk at the time and never said anything
else about it."

	He looked over at me with a very sad expression. "Really, that's
all I can remember. She hardly ever talked about that kind of thing. As far
back as I remember she just drank all the time and I had to be real careful
or she would go off on me." Marco looked ahead at the road and grew silent.

	I nodded my head. "It sounds like she had a hard time. I think
maybe what we know about being a parent is what we learned from our parents
when we grow up. I guess she didn't have much to go on."

Marco kept his eyes on the road, but nodded his head.

	I thought about the thing I had trouble understanding. "Marco, with
so little to go on, how did you turn out to be such a good kid? A lot of
guys in your situation would be in jail or strung out on drugs or
something. Where do you come from? I can't imagine how you can function
with that kind of relationship with your mother. How were you able to
survive that?"

	He laughed in an ironic way, "Well shit, somebody had to be the
parent. I guess I tried to look after her."

	"But it didn't turn you into a bad person."

	He looked over at me with a hint of a smile. "I guess I just didn't
want to be like that. You remember my telling you about Grant? The guy who
had the scout troop?"

	"I remember."

	"When I knew Grant, I was really struggling with some stuff. I was
sneaking beer, smoking pot and stuff like that. I mean it was easy to do,
Mama had a big Tupperware container of marijuana in her bedroom closet, and
a bag of crystal meth in her dresser drawer, it was easy to get to. He knew
all this stuff because, well, I had to talk to somebody. Grant kept telling
me I didn't have to live like that.  I could be different. Just because
Mama was all fucked up didn't mean that I had to be. He kept telling me
that I had choices."

	Marco was beginning to get emotional. I said, "hey, let's take a
break, why don't you pull over for a minute and let's just talk."

	He started looking for a place to stop and found a turnaround up
ahead for him to pull into. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so worked up."

	"For Christ's sake Marco. I'm surprised that didn't make you
completely crazy. Please go on. You need to get that story out of you, and
I want to hear it."

	He switched off the engine and took a deep breath. "Well this shit
is really hard to talk about, but if I can't trust you, I can't trust
anybody. I guess I got to trust somebody."

	I looked him in the eyes, "You know you can trust me, Marco. You
were telling me about your friend Grant."

	"Right, Grant. He kept telling me over and over that just because
my mother and her family were so fucked up that I didn't have to live that
way, didn't have to be like that. He told me over and over that I was a
good person, that I was smart and could be anything I wanted to if I just
worked at it. He encouraged me to stay in school. I was about ready to just
drop out, Marty. But he told me I had to stay with it, that a good
education was my ticket to the future." Marco looked at me with tears in
his eyes.

	"It was hard, Marty. It was really hard. I tried to just run away
and live on the street, but I got afraid.  There are crazy people out
there. It is really not safe for a 14 year old kid to live on the street."

	He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. "So I lived with my
Mama, and tried to just look the other way.  Grant helped me with my school
work until I got caught up and my grades improved. I'm smart, Marty, I know
I'm smart and when I tried to learn the school stuff it was really pretty
easy. And when my grades got better, the teachers at school started to take
me seriously. It got better, it really did."

He started sniffing and slapping at his pockets and I handed him my
handkerchief. He blew his nose and looked over at me.

	"So I got this job at Luigi's, OK? I started out by washing dishes
and busing tables. I tried hard to make him like me and finally he said he
would let me try waiting tables. The first night that I got to be a server
was when you came in."

	He drew a long breath. "What I wanted more than anything was a safe
place to stay. To tell you the honest truth, you seemed like such a nice
person that I thought maybe I could stay with you for awhile. Just for a
little while until I could save up some money and find a little place of my
own. That is really all I wanted."

	He took another breath and blew his nose. "I'm sorry, don't be mad,
but I saw the way you looked at me and I guessed that maybe you were gay,
and I thought if I could make you like me that maybe you would let me stay
with you for awhile. So when you offered to take me home I told you to go
to the park, and well..., you know what happened there. But honest to God,
Marty, when I started to know who you really are, I mean, I really liked
you. I really liked you. You were so nice....  I got kind of confused.  I
really kind of felt guilty because I guess I seduced you. You could have
said no, but I leaned on you pretty hard, I know that. But in just a little
while I started to really care about you. I wanted to be with you all the
time, and not just because I needed a place to stay. I'm probably making
enough money to get by on my own now, but I don't want to do that. I want
to be with you. And after this fantastic week.... You have been so
wonderful to me. I guess you enjoyed the stuff we did too, but you were
doing a lot of it just for me. Nobody ever did stuff just to make me
happy...."

Marco put his face in his hands and began to sob. Not really from joy, or
sorrow, but from the relief at getting this off his chest. All I could do
was to look at him and let him vent to me. I wanted to hold him, to comfort
him, but I waited, waited until he had purged himself of his anger and
frustration. Finally he seemed to breath a little easier.

	"Grant was a good friend for you." I said.

	Marco nodded his head, looking out into the distance. "Yeah, he
was. He tried to help me, I think he really cared about me. I guess I
needed that." He grew quiet.

	"What did you do with Grant?"

	He cut his eyes at me. "What do you mean?"

	"Well, you told me one time that he was doing sex with some boy and
it ended his marriage, he moved away. Did I get that right?"

	Marco looked down. "Yeah, Austin. He was screwing around with
Austin."

	He looked at me and I shrugged. "What did he do with you?"

	He looked out the window again. "Oh, not much really. We liked to
hug me and sometimes he would, you know, touch me."

	Marco looked at me with a sad face. "He would suck my dick and
wanted me to cum in his mouth. He wanted me to suck him, but I wouldn't do
it. I didn't want to do that stuff with him. I didn't feel that way about
him, you know? I guess Austin did that stuff with him, then Austin told
some other kids about it and Grant got burned really bad. His wife found
out and they had this big scene, and...."

	"How did you feel about Grant?"

	"Well, I felt confused. I mean, he had been nice to me, had
encouraged me, let me go on trips with his scout troop. I let him do some
stuff with me because I liked him and I didn't want to make him mad, didn't
want to hurt him."

	"But there are things you wouldn't do."

	"No, there are things I didn't want to do with him. It wasn't right
with him." He looked at me with anguish on his face.

	"Jesus, Marty, you must think I am a total whore. But I do things
with you because at first I really liked you and I thought you were hot,
and now I love you Marty, I really love you. It's different with you, and
besides, sex with you is so, – so good." He broke down and sobbed
inconsolably.

	"I'm sorry Marty. This is really confusing. I can't imagine what
you must think of me."

I looked at him and my heart felt like it was breaking. He had struggled
with so much – his mother, his addiction, his contorted relationship
with grant who was both friend, mentor, and abuser. I certainly understood
the struggle with his sexuality. The example set by his mother, the only
family he knew, was to use sexual favors as a way of surviving. How could
he have any sense of morality at all? But here he was, as good a person as
I had ever known, struggling, struggling to achieve some kind of balance in
his chaotic life. What could I say to him?

	"I love you Marco. Honestly, everything you have shared with me
just makes me love you more. You are so strong to have survived all this,
and still be an honest decent person. I have nothing but the greatest
respect for you. I love you very much."

Marco looked at me with so much pain on his face. He cried out so loud it
startled me, then fell in my arms and sobbed with what seemed like profound
relief. I held him and rocked him back and forth like a little child.

	"It's OK Marco. I know so much more about you now, and it's
alright, I still love you."

	I spoke into his ear, "I saw a little card one time, one of those
things that people give you to carry around in your wallet. It said, 'A
friend is someone who knows all about you, and loves you anyway.' Marco, I
know all about you and I still love you, I love you even more."

Marco sobbed like a little child in my arms. I wept for him, wept with him
– wanted to make all his pain and anger go away, but all I could do was
to hold him. I held him for a long time, until he stopped crying.

	Finally he looked up at me with a sense of wonder. "I think I
believe in God."

	"What?"

	"I think there is a God, and I think he sent you to me, to save me,
to save my life. Honestly, it feels like that."

	"Whoa, Marco. That's pretty heavy. I don't think I can live up to
that."

	"Well, I don't think you have to believe that. Maybe it's enough
that I do." He looked very serious. "Yeah, I really believe that."

I didn't know how to respond. I just held him, and looked at him, and knew
with no shred of doubt that this was the person who meant more to me than
anyone else in the world. I only wished that I was half as strong as he
was.

	"Look, I guess we better get moving if we are to get you back in
time for work," I said. "I think maybe we should talk about this more at a
later time."

	He sat up. "No, I'm OK now. I think I see it. I figured if you knew
that stuff it would be different for you. If you still can love me, if you
really mean that, then I think I'm alright. I'm ready to go home now."

	He went to start the car. "Hang on. We are almost to Dallas. Why
don't you let me drive the rest of the way. You have been driving since we
left San Antonio."

	He handed me the keys. "OK, you drive us on home. I am alright now,
but I got to admit I'm kind of tired. Maybe I'll take a little nap."

I pulled back on the road and he slumped over against the door and almost
immediately fell asleep. He looked totally exhausted.

We stopped just south of Dallas about 11:30 to gas up and eat a sandwich
from a vending machine. I drove us through Dallas then north to Tulsa while
Marco slept. We pulled into the apartment just at 3:30 in the afternoon. We
carried our bags inside where Marco took a quick shower and dressed for
work. It was cold in Tulsa so I drove him over to Luigi's.

	"Long day," I said as he got out of the car.

	Marco smiled at me. "Not for me. I slept all the way from Dallas. I
feel fine. See you later," and he was gone.

I went back to our apartment, sorted out the dirty clothes, threw them into
the laundry basket to be washed, then lay down and slept until Marco called
me at 10:00. When I picked him up he was all smiles.

	"$285.00 in cash tonight. We had a big group for a birthday
party. They loved me."

	"How could they not." I said. "Are you tired?"

	"Kind of," he shrugged. "I'm OK – hungry. I didn't have time to
eat. Maybe I'll fix us some pancakes."

I wasn't all that sleepy after my nap, so I watched as he mixed the batter
and cooked up a stack of cakes. He set them on the table, pulled out peanut
butter and strawberry jam and poured two glasses of milk.

	"Just like peanut butter pie," he grinned. "I sure had fun this
week."

	"That's what vacations are for. I did too."

	"I did a lot of things for the first time," he chewed his
pancakes. "Do you suppose we will ever go back to South Padre again?"

	"I don't see why not."

	"I would like to go fishing with Bobby again. That was great."

	"I think Bobby was taken with you. He liked your enthusiasm."

	Marco laughed. "I almost puked in his boat."

	"That was just part of the experience, I guess. I have to tell you
that I had a great time. It was fun for me, and I had fun watching you have
fun."

	"The boat tour in San Antonio was neat. I never expected to do
that."

	"The food was pretty good too. They did a good job with that."

	Marco leaned back and smiled. "Yep. It was all good. I liked the
company too. You make everything fun."

	"The feeling is mutual."

	After a moment he looked down suddenly serious. "Hey, I'm sorry
about all that drama today. That stuff is hard to talk about but I think I
really needed for you to know about it."

	"Why do you think I needed to know?"

	"Well, because.... I figured if you knew a lot of that stuff it
would change the way you felt about me. I guess I didn't really trust you,
trust that you actually loved me."

	Now he looked straight at me. "Everybody I ever thought I loved has
hurt me, betrayed me in some way. I guess I have trust issues," he tried to
smile.

	"I can't say I blame you. I don't know how I would have handled
your situation. I don't think I am as strong as you are."

	Now he did smile. "I think you are a gift. I told you how I see
that."

	"I don't know about that Marco. I just know I do love you and I
hope you can learn to trust me." I exhaled. "I think I'm tired. You ready
for bed?"

	"Yep," he looked over at me. "You ready for a shower?"

	"Yep," I replied. "Sure am."

Marco went into the bedroom and began to undress. I followed him. He turned
on the water and adjusted the temperature to suit himself. It was fine with
me. We got in the shower and began our usual dance.

	While he was washing me I told him, "I have to say that our mambo
in that kingsize bed was inspired."

	"Yeah, it was, wasn't it," he chuckled.  "I like it when we flip
flop like that."

	"Me too. You know, I like it both ways."

	"I do too. When we first started I guess I thought I liked it
better being the bottom, but I could used to banging you."

	"It's nice to take turns isn't it? More like we are equal partners
in this."

	Marco washed my butt thoughtfully. "I like it when you say
partners."

	'You think?  I kind of like that too. I guess Mom figures we are
already some kind of partners."

	"Well we are, aren't we? I mean, I'm not looking at this as a short
term thing, unless you are. Are you?" He stopped scrubbing and let me
rinse.

	I turned around and looked at him. He wasn't smiling. "No,
actually. I'm thinking that this might last a long time."

	He handed me the soap and tipped his head forward to let me wash
his hair. "How does that work anyway? I guess I kind of look at those
matching bracelets like they were engagement rings or something."

	I scrubbed his long hair. "I do too actually. I was thinking the
same thing. I haven't ever taken mine off."

	He tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut to keep out the
soap. "Me neither. Don't plan to lose mine unless you tell me to."

	I scooped up some lather and began to wash his body. "I wasn't
planning to do that."

	He opened one eye a little. "Does that mean we are engaged?"

	I knelt down to wash his legs. "I don't know, how do you feel about
that?"

	He put his hands on my shoulders to steady himself as he raised
first one leg and then the other. "I think I'm here until you run me off."
He turned around to give me his backside.

	I hesitated a moment, then said. "Really, I can't imagine living
without you."

	He turned around suddenly and let the water run over his face so he
could open his eyes. "Can I take that as a proposal?"

	I stopped and looked back at him. "Yeah, I guess you can."

	He made a funny face and said. "If so, then I accept." Then he
wrapped his arms around me and gave me a very wet kiss. "I love you
Marty. I really do."

	 I stood back and looked at him. "You know, this is a hell of a way
to propose to somebody."

He just gave me a twisted smile.

	I dropped to one knee and took his hands. "Marco, I love you. Will
you marry me?"

	"Oh hell yes!" he dropped down with me and held me close. "I will
marry you, I will live with you in sin, I will do anything as long as we
can be together forever and ever."

We held that awkward pose until the water started to run cold. I stood up
and turned off the tap.

	I pulled a towel off the rack and started to dry him off,
considering what we were saying. "To tell you the truth, I really don't
know how this works. Times have changed, but this is Oklahoma, you know,
and you are still just seventeen."

	He took the towel and started to dry me. "We could go somewhere
else."

	I raised my arms and turned my back to him as he continued to rub
the towel over me. "We need to think about this Marco. I mean, this is
serious stuff."

	He stopped rubbing. "Have we just been kidding around all this
time? I spilled my guts to you. You know all the bad things about me yet
you say you still love me. Do you really mean that"

	I turned around and hung up the towel. "Yes, I do. I mean I still
love you, sure. Well maybe we should be engaged a little while before we
start planning the wedding."

	He laughed. "I guess I am getting in kind of a hurry. Maybe I think
you are going to get away, I don't know. But think about it, for real, OK?
When I am sure about something I kind of want to go ahead and jump on
it. Thats the way I feel about you, about us."

	We walked into the bedroom. I got in bed and smiled at him. "You
believe in sex before marriage?"

	"Oh yeah," he climbed in after me. "You know I do." He gave me a
big sloppy kiss. "Let's do some of that flip flop stuff again, OK?"

And so we did. Our double bed in the apartment wasn't nearly as big as the
kingsize in the hotel, but it didn't really matter, We pretty much just
used the part in the middle, and it worked fine. It was great. The mambo
was inspired.


TO BE CONTINUED

--------------------------------

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