Date: Wed, 23 Sep 2009 16:34:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around  Ch 43

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, then why are you here?

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Without his support, this story would not be nearly
as interesting.  Matthew just posted a new short story.  Look under adult
youth for "Julian and Roman".



Chapter Forty-Three: Second Time Around


The ride from Ft. Lauderdale to Key West took about four hours in the
hydrofoil.  We almost didn't make our reservations.  It seemed that while
one of us entertained himself waiting tables and talking with the guests,
the other was otherwise entertained and lost track of the time.

I awoke around a quarter till seven.  We had enjoyed a very active evening
and I had to push myself to get moving.  However, knowing that Raul would
be bringing breakfast just after seven was enough to give me the motivation
I needed.  As soon as I finished brushing my teeth and shaving, I hit the
shower.  While I showered I heard the electric shaver going again and knew
that David was preparing himself.  When I finished my shower, I held the
door for David to step in and shower.

"Uh-uh.  I'll wait," he said with a warm smile.  "It's kind of a ritual
thing Raul and I used to have.  Seems he enjoys bathing me."

"Yeah, I think I can relate to that.  However, from what I hear he enjoys a
lot more than that?"

"Jealous?" he teased.

"Maybe.  I'm beginning to think that I have to be the most understanding
person in the world, or the dumbest."

"Mmmmmmm, I like the most understanding," he said as he wrapped his arms
around my neck and gave me a peck on the lips.

"Easy there, young man, keep this up and I might not leave," I said,
seriously.

The warmth of his smooth body was almost too tempting, particularly when I
placed my hand under one of his beautiful little butt cheeks and he
deliberately began to flex it.  There was one thing that David could always
do with me, and that was to make me feel like a teenager again.  There was
a knock at the door and we didn't separate as Raul walked in carrying a
tray.

"Oooooooo, maybe I come back later," he said as he turned to leave.

"No, just set the tray on the table out on the balcony," David told him.

Raul did as he was asked.  David and I separated and I walked out to learn
about waiting tables. On my way out I turned to see a confused looking
Raul.  The look of confusion quickly turning to lust as a nude David
slinked towards the teen.

When I stepped into the kitchen, the chef was standing there holding an
apron for me.  He told me the customers might be a little disappointed this
morning because they were accustomed to seeing Raul, and playing with Raul,
during breakfast.  I wondered if there was any meal where Raul was not the
central attraction.

It didn't take me long to learn that waiting tables is not as easy as it
looks.  There's no problem when two people order the same breakfast, or
even different breakfasts.  The problem is when two or more people order
the same breakfast, each cooked a different way.  Between taking orders you
also have to run around and refill coffee cups and get someone more cream
or the ketchup bottle is empty or anything anyone could possibly find to
keep you running.  Of course, there was that other distraction.

Everyone in the courtyard seemed to be enjoying a little show that was
taking place on one of the balconies.  The first time someone said
something, I looked up to see David and Raul feeding one another slices of
orange.  Both were naked and before they placed it in the other's mouth,
they rubbed a little juice over a nipple or some other part of their body.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that all this was my idea.  I also
vowed to remember this the next time I had an idea to be considerate of
someone, at least considerate like this.  Those two were putting on such a
show that I thought half the customers were going to have a go at one
another right there on the dining tables.

                                           * * * *

The ride to Key West was filled with mixed feelings.  Initially, it was
exciting to watch the coastline flying by or look out to sea and spot
dolphin racing the boat.  After a while, the warm sun and sea air could
make you sleepy.  I retired below deck and found a comfortable spot to sit
back and rest; David followed me.  He half curled up on the seat and leaned
into me.

"You asleep or just playing possum?" I asked.

"A little of both.  Why?"

"You haven't said much since we left."

"What do you want me to say?"

I could feel his body jump with the laughter he was trying to suppress.

"How's Raul?" I asked, being very serious.

"He's okay, now, for the most part.  You should have seen the look on his
face when you left and I slinked out to him.  I took his hand, led him
inside, and did a very erotic undressing of him.  By the time I finished
with him I thought he'd lose everything right then and there, but he
didn't.  I took his very rigid self and guided him onto the balcony.

"We sat at the table and had breakfast in the nude.  I saw you look up as I
ran a slice of orange over my nipples and then fed it to him.  He giggled
worse than a little girl and did the same to me.  We repeated that several
times.  After breakfast I led him to the bed and he was like melted butter.
We lay facing each other and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.  The
heat he generated was unreal.  Anyway, we kept going until he finally
released all the pent-up tension and anxiety.  Afterwards, we talked some."

I sat there quietly, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't.  I popped
him on his butt.

"Owww!  What was that for?"

"You know," I answered.

"He just needed reassurance that you weren't going to take me away and
forbid me to ever see or talk to him again.  Raul kind of looks at me like
a big brother, most of the time.  The rest of the time I think I'm someone
that can teach him new tricks or how to enjoy his body."  He lay there
quietly for quite some time and then rolled over to look up at me.

"Thanks; there's not many people that would have thought that much about
Raul.  It meant a lot to him; me too, but in a different way.  He asked me
a lot about you and I told him about the boys.  I told him that I thought
they'd get along great and said he could come up and visit sometime.  That
okay?"

I just gave him a good squeeze and leaned back to rest.

                                           * * * *

David hailed a taxi at the docks.  He gave the driver a slip of paper with
an address and we were on our way.  I wasn't even surprised when we stopped
in front a Victorian house and read the sign "Coconut Grove".  I looked at
David.

"Yes, he and his brother own both." David had anticipated my question.

"I have decided that nothing you do can surprise me any more.  But, don't
you think we need to at least rent a car for transportation?"

"Nope, our transportation is already here."

David nodded to something behind me and I turned to see what had to be a
customized golf cart.  The cart looked similar in shape to what you would
expect to see on a golf course.  This particular cart had a Rolls Royce
front end.  I turned back around to look at David.

"You'll find a golf cart is easier to maneuver on these tight streets; and,
it's eco-friendly.  We're also supposed to have a pair of bicycles waiting
on us.  That gives us three choices when we go out; walk, pedal or ride."
He just stood there, smiling.

"And your choice right now is to . . . . ?" I asked, pretty much knowing
the answer.

"Check in and find some food."

The expected answer, since we hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast.
Also, I was fairly certain that David had managed to burn off quite a few
calories during his post- breakfast activities.  I smiled to myself and bit
my lip as we walked in.  When we checked in, David requested room service,
ordering a club sandwich and two soft drinks.

Our room was larger than the room in Ft. Lauderdale.  Actually, the entire
facility was larger.  There were more rooms, a larger pool, hot tub, gym
and sauna.  As in Ft.  Lauderdale, we had a suite with a large balcony.  On
the balcony was a small table with two chairs and a hammock.  Our room was
wide open and because of the ocean breeze, very comfortable with only a
ceiling fan running.  The room overlooked the courtyard and pool area.
Several people were around the pool, either in the water or lying on a
lounge chair.  Most of them were working on all-over tans.

"Well, I think the boys would be quite at home here," I commented.

"In more ways than I think you are aware at the moment," David answered,
making me wonder exactly what he meant.  He read my expression.  "Wait,
you'll see.  There's another guesthouse about a block from here I'll show
you.  When you see it you'll understand why I chose not to make our
reservations there. I didn't think you would be comfortable.

"I thought we could go for a walk after we eat.  It'll help settle lunch
and we can see some things most tourists don't even realize exist around
here."

"Like what," I asked, curious.

"You've been to Key West before.  How would you describe it?" he asked me.

"I see a once very quaint little town being run over by tourists and
greed. I think they need to place a moratorium on construction and control
the commercial growth before it loses its identity."  I looked at him.

"I see Key West as having four identities.  One is for the tourists.
Another is for the permanent residents who look forward to the tourists
leaving each season so they can return to their own lifestyles.  Of course,
it's the tourists' money that makes living their own lifestyles possible."
We exchanged understanding smiles.

"The other two parts are the gay community.  This city is known to be very
accepting of different lifestyles.  Here, there is a daytime gay community
and a night-time gay community.  We'll have a chance to see both.  Right
now, how about that walk?"

Our walk was really more of a stroll.  We took leisurely steps at a
leisurely pace.  Avoiding the main commercial strips, we walked what one
would call the side streets.  The shops along these streets didn't carry
the normal tourist trap merchandise.  Many of the shops were antique shops
selling the real deal.  I wasn't surprised when we walked into a shop and
the attendant called David by name and greeted him as a too long between
visits type of friend.  The greetings weren't limited to the shops.

"David.  Wait up, man."

We heard the call and turned towards the voice.  A young man that I would
guess to be around my sons' ages came trotting up to us, or really, David.
They bumped knuckles and hugged.

"Keith, how goes it?"

"Man, Dad said you was comin'.  Said you had a special surprise, too?  This
him?"

"Keith, this is Mr. Geoghagan, my committed partner."

"Whoooaaa!  Committed partner, like for life?  That's deep," Keith
responded.

The boy's response was so innocent and enthusiastic that I could only
laugh.  Seeing him made me think of my own boys.

"The name is Rick, not Mr. Geoghagan.  It's nice to meet you, Keith."

"Nice ta meet ya.  David told my Dad a bunch 'a stuff.  He even said you
was kinda hot.  I think he was right," Keith was making me blush and his
enthusiasm was contagious.

"Hey, I got a surprise, too.  I got a boyfriend." You could tell from
Keith's expression that he was looking for approval from David.  "His
name's Donald, but I call 'im Donnie.  He's just a few months younger'n me
and real cute.  You'll see 'im tonight.  Me and him serves at dinner.  Hey,
I gotta go get my chores done at the house or Dad'll skin me."  Keith
started off and called back over his shoulder.  "See ya tonight."

"That whirlwind of energy happens to be our host's son.  His dad and David
in Ft.  Lauderdale are brothers.  They own these houses together.  The last
time I talked with Raymond, Keith's dad, they had just bought the house
next door to the guesthouse.  Raymond didn't want Keith involved with some
of the stuff he knew might be happening at the guesthouse.  He knows that
Keith knows some of the stuff, he just didn't want him participating.
Keith's been part of the scene since he was about ten, as I understand it.
He used to run around the place naked all the time and became kind of a
little brother or mascot to everyone.  Anyone ever try anything with that
boy they didn't have to worry about Raymond, the rest of the guests would
have taken the offending person out; probably permanently."

"How old is Keith?"

"He's either sixteen or seventeen.  Sounds like he's still hanging around
the guesthouse, but he's working now.  It'll be interesting to meet his
boyfriend.  If I know Keith, he and Donnie are probably more than just
casual friends.  I can remember when Keith had the hots for Raul.  Now
. . . . we'll see." David just shrugged his shoulders.

                                           * * * *

Even with the ocean breeze, it gets hot in Key West, particularly if you
are standing in the sun.  We strolled a little more and I did more people
watching than window shopping.  Since it was summer, hot (and it was HOT!),
and there was no school, there were a lot of boys running around wearing
cutoffs and sandals, no shirts.  This, in and of itself, was not unusual
and normally I would not have paid any attention.  However, when I say the
boys were wearing cutoffs, they were jeans that had really been cutoff to
the minimum; something like my boys would do.  The legs were cut about an
inch, if that, below the crotch and went up as they wrapped around the
outside of the leg.  They were short enough that you should have been able
to see the bottom part of the pockets.  Since the pockets were not visible,
I assumed the boys had managed to cut those off too.  About half the boys
had split the seam up the side and it was obvious they were not wearing any
underwear.

"Those boys you're watching are called Little Conchs by the locals.  It
means they are the kids of permanent residents, not tourists.  They
deliberately cut their shorts like that and run around where they know
there's a lot of people, to tease them.  They've been known to let someone
pinch their butt for a little change, but mostly they're playing; it's a
game to them.  Remember, there's not a whole lot for them to do here unless
it's related to tourists or the water."

"Something tells me when they go swimming in the ocean they don't go where
you find many tourists," I commented.

"For the most part, you're right.  However, particularly the boys with the
shorts split up the side, that's a sign among the local kids and has
status.  The slit is to let everyone know that they've been accepted into
the dive groups.  It's also so you can tell there's no tan line.  Some of
the boys'll tell you that it's to tease the girls by letting them peek at
their butts; like I said, it's a game to them.  Since they're running
around here playing, it means it's not their turn to dive or it's not time
for the cruise ships to leave."

"How do they decide who gets to dive and when?"

"These guys are all friends and watch out for one another.  They know that
they can stay in the water only so long before they need to rest, so
everybody gets a chance to dive for money.  They rotate around."

"And may I ask how you became so knowledgeable about what these kids are up
to?" My curiosity had definitely gone into high gear.

"That's another story," he smiled, enjoying himself.  "Right now we're
talking about these boys."  He went right back to talking about the boys.

"When the ship leaves, the boys go down and dive.  The ship's props churn
up the bottom and the boys bring up antique bottles and other items that
they can find.  A lot of them don't bother trying to find bottles, but dive
for money the tourists throw out.  They put on a real show for the
tourists.

"The boy will jump in and when he comes up he normally has his shorts in
his hand and tosses them up to a friend.  This usually elicits more
comments from the tourists, particularly the women, and just encourages the
boys.  From then on all you'll see is some suntanned butts sticking above
the water as they dive.

"The really daring kids will strip on the dock in front of the tourists to
give them a real show and get more money.  As long as the boys don't go too
wild, no one says anything.  If you look closely you'll see that the boys
are mostly pre-pubescent.  Once the hairs grow, the cops stop them.
However, look closely and you'll see the hint of a shadow where the pubic
hair normally grows.  It's not unusual to see one or two policemen standing
not too far away to make sure the kids are okay.  We'll have to go down to
the docks one day as the ships pull out and you'll see quite a show."

"Well, until then, how about we head back.  I could use a nice cool shower
and a short nap before dinner." I suggested, and we turned.  As we walked a
couple of the kids watched us and waved.  One of the boys, I guessed about
ten years old, stood and wiggled his butt at us.  David and I just laughed
as we walked off.

                                           * * * *

There was no question that the bathroom in our suite was not original.
There was an old claw footed tub that was deep enough to drown in, but the
shower was separate and large enough to easily accommodate four or five
people.  Setting the temperature to be cool, but not cold, I pulled David
in with me.  We had a way of communicating with our eyes and touch; no
words needed to be spoken.

I pulled him into a tight embrace and ran my nose and mouth along his
cheek.  It felt funny when my nose hit his ear canal and I stopped.
Pulling back for only a split second, I stuck my tongue in his ear.

"mmmmmmmm . . .uuunnnnnhhhhhhhh . . . .ooohhhhhhh gahd,' he whispered as he
danced on his toes.

Reaching for the bath gel and shampoo, I slid down and sat on the floor,
leaning against the wall.  When I looked up at him he stepped over my legs,
straddling my body.  Slowly, he sat and I allowed my feet to slide away
from me to give him room.  He sat in my lap, facing me with his feet flat
on the floor, his knees out by my side.  He gently laid his hands on my
shoulders as I drew him to me.  Tilting his head, he gave me access to his
other ear.  My tongue caused him to whimper like a puppy.

I slid my feet farther away from my body and only slightly pushed the palm
of my hand against his chest.  He leaned back using my legs, which were now
at about a forty-five degree angle, to rest against.  He pulled his feet
back, letting his knees go to the floor.  His arms relaxed and fell out to
the side.  When he turned his palms up his arms moved further out to a
position of total surrender.  He was surrendering his body to me to do as I
pleased; he was showing absolute trust.

I squeezed an abundant amount of bath gel on his chest and let it trickle
down his abdomen.  Using the palms of my hands I slowly spread the gel over
his torso, being particularly generous with coating his nipples which
elicited a sharp breath through his teeth.  His sensitive nipples also
caused his manliness to rise to full attention and stare at me with its
single eye.  As I moved my palms off his nipples, I dragged them down his
side.  Almost as soon as my hands were at his sides, I rolled my hands to
let the edge of the fingernail on the second finger glide over his smooth
skin.  David's squirming made his whimpering sound erotic.  He continued to
lay against my thighs.

Tracing a line down his sides, my fingernail soon reached his hips and,
then, the point where thigh meets torso.  I traced the fine, sensitive line
that ran along the upper edge of his thighs and down to his groin area.
When I reached the point where my finger almost touched his scrotum, I
reversed direction, retracing the sensitive line.  At his hips I again
began to trace the path, but this time I did touch his scrotum and allowed
my fingernails to slide into the narrow area between scrotum and thigh.
Rather than running my nails to the back of his thighs, I traced the
outline of where his scrotum met his perineum.  One nail traced the fine
line that defined the center of the scrotum while the other traced the line
dividing his perineum, ending at his anus.  David panted for air and
whimpered as I felt his muscles contracting, trying to grasp my finger with
his anal muscles.

Removing my finger from his scrotum, I continued to tease his anus with the
other.  The finger I removed from the scrotum moved up to tease his
nipples.  After I pinched each nipple, I placed my hand behind his neck and
pulled him into me.  As his tongue entered my mouth, my finger entered his
anus.  He whimpered as his anal muscles clamped down hard on my finger.
Working my finger in deeper, I found his prostate and began to massage it.
His hands moved all over me, flying from one part of my body to another.  I
didn't release his neck, nor did I break our kiss as I continued the
internal massage.  His body moved almost spasmodically.  He pulled his head
away from me.  Pressing his head into my shoulder, he bit into me and cried
out.

"Uuunnngggghhh . . . .aaaahhhh . . . .aaaahhh . . . . ooohhhh fuck
. . . . .I'm . . .I'm . . . .  cuuumming . . ..aaagggghhh
. . .aaaagggghhhh. . . ..mmmmmmmpppphh."

David could always make some of the most interesting sounds and grunts as
his body released the pent-up demands.  I held him as he gasped for air,
allowing his body to slow down.  Heaven would be to sit there all night,
holding him.

                                           * * * * The courtyard
arrangement was similar to the courtyard in Lauderdale, just bigger.  There
were more tables, more planting areas, and more guests.  The main portion
of the courtyard was covered in flagstone.  As we entered, we were greeted
and shown to our table.  Before we could get situated a gentleman that I
thought was our waiter approached us.

"David.  Welcome my friend," the man stated, holding his arms wide to
embrace someone; he embraced David.

"Raymond, it's about time," David responded as they hugged.  Raymond broke
the hug and turned towards me.

"And you are Rick.  My brother told me a lot about you.  So has David.  You
are a lucky man.  Oh, and my son, he thinks you are hot!"

Okay, I had no problem agreeing that I was lucky to have David.  However, I
was beginning to feel a little embarrassed.  David sat there enjoying the
whole thing.  I extended my hand in greeting as I stood.

"It's nice to meet you, Raymond.  And, thank you, I do feel lucky, and
fortunate."

"David tells me you are here on your honeymoon.  Fantastic!"

Okay, I probably found a new level of blushing as Raymond just said that
loud enough for most of Key West to get the message.

"Tonight, dinner is on the house.  Only the best.  A good bottle of wine
and I will have the chef prepare for you your favorite, lobster.  But
first, Oysters Rockefeller."

"Now I know where Keith inherited the whirlwind of energy," I told David as
Raymond left to get our wine.

"You're probably right.  Unlike most gay people with kids, Keith is
Raymond's actual son.  He married and then determined he wanted to lead a
little different lifestyle.  They divorced with Keith's mother getting
custody.  Raymond wasn't allowed to see the boy for almost four years.
Then, the drug issues showed up and Raymond found out his ex was shooting
up in front of Keith.  Raymond sued for permanent custody and the courts
determined that his sexual preferences had nothing to do with is ability to
raise his son."

As David gave the capsule version of Raymond's history with his son, I
spotted Keith waiting on tables.  There was another boy about his age doing
the same thing.  Both boys were wearing white shorts and a white button-up
shirt.  Interestingly, the shirts only buttoned up about half way and the
material was a little sheer.  I could easily see that both boys were also
wearing thong underwear.  The boys worked their way over to our table.

"Hey, David.  Mr.  . . er, Rick."  Keith was beaming like he had just won
the lottery.  He was also holding the hand of the other boy.  Guess who?

"This is Donnie," Keith introduced his boyfriend and the look in their eyes
said it all.  It was true, unabashed, totally committed puppy love.

We greeted Donnie and then tried to get both of the boys, who appeared to
be very nervous, to settle down a little.

"Those are interesting uniforms, guys," I commented.

"Yes, sir," Donnie responded.  "Keith tried to get his dad to let us dress
like Raul does, but he said no way.  He said there was too many horny guys
around here that might want to jump our bubble butts," Donnie finished with
a big grin.

"And he doesn't think that you two are throwing temptation in front of them
with these almost see-through outfits?" David asked.

"Yeah, but he did make us wear at least these thongs.  Actually, I'm
wearin' a jock strap.  Some of these guys like ta pat my butt or pinch me.
I don't say anything 'cause they leave me good tips.  Sometimes I look at
Donnie when he's workin' and then some of the thoughts I get, well
. . . you know what can happen between the touchin' and the thoughts.  It
gets real embarrassin' then."

I sat there listening to these two boys and wanted to roll on the ground,
laughing.  They were being serious, at least as serious as teenagers their
age could be.  They had no idea they were being very entertaining and I
wasn't about to embarrass them or hurt their feelings.  I was really
surprised how open they were with me around.

"Ummmm . . . .you see . . .well, can we ask ya somethin'?  We need ta ask
ya . . .well . ."  Keith was stuttering and shifting his weight from one
foot to another and acting like he had ants in his pants.

"What Keith is trying to ask is if we could get some advice from you.
David and Keith are friends and David said that you, Mr. Rick, had boys
around our age and that you kinda understood what they like ta do
. . . kinda like us and all."

Having experienced the way teenagers can talk when they are nervous, I
followed most of what Donnie said and I thought it might have been a
compliment.

"Keith," I said calmly.  "Do us all a favor, son.  Take a deep breath and
let it out slowly.  Take two deep breaths and let them out slowly."

"I'm sorry;it's just that I'm kinda nervous.  You won't be mad when we ask
ya somethin' will ya?"

I never understood why kids think you might get mad just because they ask
you something.

"Are you nervous now?" I asked knowing the answer and still biting my lip
to avoid laughing.

"I'm so nervous right now, I'm 'bout to pee in my pants," Keith answered.

"Then maybe you better ask us your question," I suggested.

"Ya see, Dad knows that me and Donnie are boyfriends.  He sat us down one
night and had a talk with us.  He said he wasn't naïve and could guess that
we'd been cuddlin' and maybe foolin' around some.  We admitted that we had.
He told us he wouldn't object so long as we both consented and were
careful.  He said we could do some pettin' and all, but made us promise not
to screw each other.  He said we needed ta wait, and we promised 'im."

I could tell from the look on their faces, pure guilt, what the problem
was.

"Thing is," Donnie interrupted.  "We already did.  Mr. Raymond was so
serious, and it seemed so important to 'im, that we was afraid to tell
him."

"Boys, it sounds to me that Raymond has been very understanding with you
two.  Don't you think you need to understand how he feels?"

"You mean 'bout lovin' us and not wantin' us ta be hurt and all?  We do and
know that we shoulda told him then, but now that we promised . . . .I mean
we hadn't done it since he talked to us.  We couldn't.  Every time we
wanted to all we could remember was the promise we made.  I mean, I lied to
'im and I never done that on somethin' that was real important and all.
I'm just scared what he'll think when I tell 'im and all."

"Keith, you know you don't have to be afraid of your dad.  He fought real
hard to get you and you are his whole world.  Do you know how he'll feel if
he found out, from someone else, that you deliberately deceived him?  He
would be devastated.  Plus, where would the trust go that he has in you
now?"

"You're sayin' we need ta fess up to 'im?" Keith said with the saddest look
anyone could imagine.

"You know something," I interrupted.  "I think both of you knew the answer
before you ever said anything to us.  You just needed someone to tell you
that's the right thing to do."

"Yes, sir," we heard from two boys, both wearing one of those 'I've been
caught' kind of grins.

"Listen to me boys, if you never hear anything else I say.  I am a parent
and I can tell you that I would much prefer my sons tell me something they
did, knowing that I wouldn't be happy with them, than let me hear it from
someone else.  I trust and love my boys and that is the greatest thing they
have going for them.  Believe me, they are far from perfect and I've been
known to catch them in a little, shall we say misrepresentation of the true
facts?  Regardless of what they did, so long as they came to me so we could
work it out, they know that I'll be there for them."

Two boys just stood there, looking down with those sheepish grins.

"Keith, do us a favor.  Go to the little boy's room before you wet those
nice shorts.  Maybe Donnie could check and see if our meal is about ready?"

I gave the boys an out.  The serious time was over and I didn't want them
to think I was trying to lecture them; the decision had to be theirs.  I
could only hope that they listened as I watched the two of them go bouncing
off.  I looked at David who was looking at me with that shit eatin' grin of
his.  He looked at me and said,

"Softy."


End Ch Forty-three
To Be Continued

Comments welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com