Date: Thu, 22 Apr 1999 06:22:31 PDT
From: pommels guy <pommelsguy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Billy : Chapter 12, Epilogue
CHAPTER 11 A Parting - Monday Morning
I awoke with a start. It took me a minute to recall where I
was. I was stiff and cramped from sleeping in the chair. I looked
over at Billy but he was still asleep. A nurse wandered in to check
on Billy, and then left. I got up and walked over to the bed.
Billy seemed to be resting more comfortably. In sleep he
looked as angelic as a young child. I used my hand to brush his hair
back off his forehead. I caressed his cheek. I slid my hand down his
neck and under the sheet. I squeezed his hard pecs and stroked his
nipples. Finally, I just let my hand rest on his chest, which was
rising and falling gently with his breathing.
I bent down and kissed Billy on his lips. Billy's eyes
fluttered open and he smiled at me. "Richard... you didn't leave me."
"Of course not Billy. I'll always be here when you need me."
"Where's Todd?"
"He left right after they brought you to the hospital."
Billy closed his eyes, but not before I noticed tears welling
up. I began very gently rubbing his chest with one hand and stroking
his hair with the other. With his hand Billy pulled my face down to
his. Our kiss was long. When I came up for air, Billy started crying.
"Billy, what is it?"
"I'm through! My gymnastics is over! I'm a failure!"
"Billy, we're not going to speak of success and failure right
now. We're going to talk about setting new goals. We're going to
talk about your strength and dedication. We're going to talk about
love."
Billy composed himself. "Richard, I do love you."
"I know, Billy."
"Richard, I'm in pain. Can you make me forget it?"
"What do you want me to do, Billy?"
"Of all the things we've done, I love your blow jobs most of
all."
"Do you really? More than fucking me?"
"Yeah. I like fucking, but when you go down on me, it's beyond
description. I really know how much you love me when you do that."
My right hand moved from his chest downward. My earlier
impression had been correct, Billy was completely nude beneath the
sheet. The sheet started forming a tent as Billy grew larger. I
pulled the sheet away as my hand sought Bill's dick. Even in a
hospital bed, injured and weakened, Billy's body was still beautiful.
My hand reached its goal and I slowly and gently stroked Billy to
full arousal.
I sucked Billy like I had never done before. I took him
slowly. As my head moved up and down, Billy quietly moaned. He
began to move beneath me, and I felt his whole body go rigid.
"Billy! What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Richard. My leg hurts too much."
"That's OK Billy. We can wait."
I used a dry wash cloth to gently rub Billy dry. His dick was
still at more than half mast. I pulled the sheet back up to Billy's
shoulders. He grinned at me and pushed it back down to his waist.
"I know you like looking at my chest," he said, "and that
doesn't hurt! There's no reason you can't be happy." I hugged him as
best as I could as he lay there. I settled back into my chair. A
nurse came in, saw Billy was awake and went to get the doctor. He
came in, took a good look at Billy and spouted a bunch of medical
mumbo jumbo. The bottom line was that although Billy would probably
walk again, he would always limp. No more gymnastics for Billy. They
left. I went over to Billy, stroked his chest, kissed him and let him
know I loved him.
Later that day, Billy's parents came. I left him in their
care. He was going back to California when he could travel. His
parents would help him rebuild his life. Who would help me? Billy
took my heart with him. The telephone is a poor substitute for being
with your lover, but it's better than nothing. It was a long drive
back to Saint Louis, but Billy and I were destined to be together
again.
Chapter 12. Epilogue
The clock radio came on. It didn't wake me up though. I'd
been tossing and turning for hours. It had been a "Motown Night", my
term for living out the lyrics of my favorite songs. "Last night I
couldn't get to sleep at all, no, no. The sleep I got was just a
waste of time, I couldn't get to sleep because you were on my mind."
That one and, "Morning's just a moment away and I'm without you once
again."
I kicked my feet over the side of the bed, made the monumental
effort of sitting up, and then struggled to my feet. I headed toward
the bathroom and pulled the Prozac out of the cabinet. Taking one, I
thought to myself, "I never needed this before Billy."
Billy. Had it really only been a month since I told Billy I
couldn't continue our relationship? Our relationship that had started
on such a high note nine years ago, only to die a long, lingering
death over the last four years. Looking back I guess it really
started dying at the moment of birth, just as we all do.
I headed toward the kitchen for my morning bowl of Wheaties.
Plopping down at the kitchen table I saw the pile of mail that had
been accumulating for weeks. Big mistake. There on the top of the
pile was the piece of paper that had been the final death knell for
Billy and me. It was a birth announcement. Billy and his wife Cathy
were proud to announce the arrival of their second child, a daughter
this time.
I thought back to that first weekend with Billy. The total
love we shared. The unbelievable sex! The promise of a bright future
and no hint of the storms over the horizon. When I left Billy in the
hospital with his parents I had no inkling of the paths we would
traverse in the nine years of our relationship. Relationship? Love?
Friendship? Mutual lust? What the hell was it anyway?
Billy had gone home to live with his parents while he
recuperated from his injury. Then came the surgery. Then came the
second surgery. Then came the suicide attempt. I had rushed to
California after Billy's Mom called. His Dad wouldn't let me in the
house. When I telephoned no one answered. Caller ID is the
instrument of the Devil!
A whole year went by before Billy finaly called me. He had
moved out of his parent's house and was working as a kid's gym coach
at a place in the Sacramento area. Could I please come to visit?
"Just call my name, and I'll be there!"
This bleak morning I didn't feel up to remembering the good
times Billy and I shared for those three years. I wanted to wallow in
self-pity instead. My thoughts leapt ahead to 1995, the year Billy
told me he was getting married. Just like that.
January 2, 1995. I'm at home in Saint Louis. I haven't been
to California to visit Billy in six months, but we talk at least four
times a week. This cold, dark day the phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Richard, it's me."
"Billy! You just made my day!"
"I need to talk."
"You sound terrible, what's wrong?"
"I'm getting married Saturday."
"Yeah, right! And the College of Cardinals is electing me
Pope tomorrow!"
"I'm serious Richard."
Billy went on to tell me that "Cathy" was a coach at the gym
where he worked. Billy was tired of "living a lie"; he wanted to be
"normal" and have a family. His parents wanted grandchildren. His
Mom was tired of making excuses about why he wasn't married. Parents
of boys at the gym would feel "more comfortable" if he were married.
"Do you love her, Billy? Do you love ME, Billy?"
"Richard, I'll always love you. I just can't have sex with
you anymore. I'm not really gay you know."
"Goodbye Billy." Click.
The phone rang and rang. I just stared at it. I walked down
to the package store for a bottle of Ancient Age, thinking the name
about summed up how I felt. I quit drinking while I was together with
Billy. He was such a health nut he didn't want me to drink anymore.
I didn't buy any Camels though like I would have done before I met
Billy. I quit smoking for me, not him. Instead, I just went home and
drank out of the bottle. A lot. A whole lot. I mean, to the last
drop. And then I cried. "Take a good look at my face. You'll see
it's easy to trace the tracks of my tears." Billy didn't like Motown.
We made a show of being friends. Birthday cards. Christmas
cards. I didn't go to the wedding though. And then, six months after
the wedding, the call from Billy. Cathy was pregnant. Couldn't I be
happy for him? I tried. I swear I tried. But vivid images of just
how Cathy got pregnant kept going through my mind. And my lunch kept
coming back up. And the empty bottles of Ancient Age accumulated.
Two months later. The phone rings. "Richard?"
"Billy? Is that really you?"
"I'm coming to Saint Louis for a gym meet next week. Can I
please see you?"
I opened the door and there stood my beautiful Billy. He
looked exactly the same as that first evening in Kansas City so many
years earlier. The hug was just as warm. The kiss was great! The
sex was incredible! The guilt was unbelievable. What was I doing?
Billy was a married man with a pregnant wife. The ice blue eyes, the
smile I knew so well, the still hard body of my dream lover helped me
forget the guilt, or so I thought.
Every two or three months Billy or I would get on a plane and
somehow sneak a few hours of hot sex. And that's what it was. We had
sex, we didn't make love. And then, a month ago, July 1, 1998, the
announcement came.
"Billy? Hi, it's me. I can't do this anymore Billy. I just
can't do it. God help me, but I CAN"T DO IT!" Click.
The End
********************************************************************
Well guys, I hope you liked this series. I'm starting a new series in
which I (Richard) try to forget Billy by throwing myself into
volunteer work with my college fraternity, Tri-Tau. The series will
contain a lot of beautiful college boys and a handful of old geezers
like me. Thanks for all the support and encouragement I've received
during the Billy story. For those who are just dying to know the
truth, Billy and I are still close friends, but not lovers, and he
named one of his sons after me. Well, I hope you enjoy the new
series. So long for now.
Richard
pommelsguy@hotmail.com