Date: Thu, 4 Aug 2011 19:37:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: My Two Dads (Either Beginnings or Adult Friends)

I was about nineteen months old when my folks went out one night to
celebrate my dad's promotion at work.  They left me with a baby sitter, a
teen aged girl who lived next door.  She was my steady sitter and I knew
her well.  This was long before cell phones were in general use, so my
folks gave her my Uncle Steve's telephone number in case of an emergency.
Uncle Steve was my dad's twin brother, and the only living relative of
either of my parents.  I was too young to know, of course, but based on
pictures I have seen, I probably would not have been able to tell them
apart.

On the way to wherever they were going, my parents stopped at a convenience
store.  Uncle Steve reckoned that my dad stopped for cigarettes, as he was
a heavy smoker.  They and the clerk were the only ones in the store.  While
paying for the cigarettes, two gunmen stormed into the store, gunned down
my parents and the clerk, and took off with the contents of the cash
register and some cigarettes and candy.  The murderers were never caught.
Surveillance cameras were not yet routinely in use.

**********

It was somewhere around 10:30 PM when the phone rang shrilly.  Paul Leon
was just stepping out of the shower.  He and his partner, Steve Jensen,
always showered before they went to bed.  If they made love, which was most
of the time, they showered again after the love making.  Sometimes it was
that night, or sometimes it was the next morning.  Steve was downstairs,
making sure the doors were locked, windows secured, and lights were out,
except for a small night light he left on in the kitchen.  He did that
every night.  Then, when he went upstairs, he put on night lights in the
two bathrooms and in their bedroom.  He was determined to avoid stubbed
toes for the both of them.

"I'll get it," Steve yelled up the stairs.  He wasn't sure if Paul was out
of the bathroom yet.  Steve was a little more than anxious as he reached
for the phone in the kitchen.  Calls at strange hours frightened him.
Years ago he and his twin brother Sean were sleeping soundly in their
college dorm room when the phone woke them both up one awful night.  Some
police officer introduced himself and informed them that their parents had
been killed in a ten car accident on the turnpike during the worst fog the
state had seen in years.  The officer was cold and business like as he told
them to get home to take care of things.

Steve didn't realize that he was hyperventilating when he yelled into the
phone, "Yes?"

"Mr. Jensen," a hysterical young voice said.  "It's awful, just awful."

"Who is this?  What's happened?" Steve yelled back, knowing he was about to
hear the worst possible news in what turned out to be the most awful, but
fateful night of his life.

"This is Jennifer, your brother's baby sitter.  The police are here now
and.., and..."  She couldn't say more, so she handed the phone to one of
the police officers.

"Mr. Jensen," a soft voice said.  Steve allowed himself to relax a bit.
This voice sounded kind and sympathetic, unlike the police officer who had
informed him of his parents' deaths.

"Yes, this is Steve Jensen" he said.  His voice was quivering.  By this
time, Paul had run into the kitchen.  He was still damp and he had a towel
wrapped around his waist.  He stood next to Steve, looking as anxious as
Steve did.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," the kind voice said.  "There's been a
robbery and shooting at a local convenience store.  Your brother and his
wife were in the store at the time and I'm afraid they are both dead."

The officer waited for a response, but he got none.  Steve could not
breathe, much less speak.  The officer continued, "The young lady is
hysterical.  My partner is taking her home.  I'll stay here with the baby,
but I have to ask you to come over as soon as possible to take care of
things.  The same words, the very same words, he had heard over ten years
ago in a cramped college dorm room.  He handed the phone to Paul and
collapsed on the kitchen floor.

"Officer," Paul said, "we'll get there as quickly as possible after we
dress.  We are only fifteen minutes away."

When Steve heard that his brother was dead, half of him died also.

**********

If there are two or three babies in a room and one should start crying,
it's a sure thing that the baby's mother would know that it was her baby
crying.  Steven and Sean were so identical, their parents could not tell
them apart, either by sight or sound.  They left the hospital's ID
bracelets on their sons for as long as possible.  Fortunately, their father
noticed that Sean's big toe was not perfectly straight, but it curled ever
so slightly.  You could notice the curl only after close scrutiny.  They
sewed tiny blue strings on half their babies' clothing, and they assigned
that clothing to Sean who was ten minutes younger than Steven. That
sufficed until the boys were older and Mom combed Sean's hair with a left
part and Steven's with a right part.  Identifying them was now easier.

The twins were inseparable until they entered middle school.  They loved
each other so much it was almost morbid.  They vowed to each other that if
need be they would die for each other.  They swore to their parents that
they could actually feel each other's pain, like The Corsican Brothers.
The truth of that was never tested scientifically.  In middle school, their
interests seemed to take different paths, and they each began to make
different friends.  Actually this pleased their parents, who felt that they
needed to be cut in half in order to become separate functioning individual
human beings.

Sean's interests turned to sports.  He tried to get on every school team.
He began to come home late from some game or other, and sometimes missed
dinner.  Steven turned to music and the arts.  He begged for violin and
piano lessons and became an accomplished player in both instruments.  One
Mother's Day he sat his mother at the piano and played and sang a beautiful
song to her, extolling her beauty and her virtue.  Mrs. Jensen was in
tears, but she stared at her son with her mouth wide open when he told her
that he had written it just for her.

Notwithstanding their widening and divergent interests, the two brothers
remained as close and as thick as thieves.  The house was big enough that
they could easily have occupied different bedrooms, but they chose to share
one room.  They slept in twin beds or tried to sleep.  They would talk far
into the night, until finally sleep overcame them.  On the night of their
eleventh birthday, they could not sleep at all.  They were busy trying out
some of the games they had received.  Most were meant to be shared and to
be played together.

After they were finally settled down and the games were put away, Sean
climbed under his cover and Steve lay on top of his.  That's how they fell
asleep.  By this time they had both experienced erections and seen each
other hard.  Sometime in the middle of the night, Sean awakened.  He
thought he heard soft murmuring coming from his brother's bed.  He glanced
over.  Steven had an erection, but this time his hand was wrapped around
his immature member and he was stroking it gently.  Every once in a while
he would make a little purring noise.  Contrary to public opinion, he did
not learn about masturbation in the school yard.  He had come upon this
wonder accidently while lying in bed one night.

"What are you doing?"  Sean wanted to know.

Steven didn't know what he was doing, but it felt so wondrously good.  "I
don't know," he answered, but it feels wonderful.  Try it."  Sean was
already almost hard and he copied Steven's motions.

"That does feel nice," he echoed.  The two boys stroked for a while, but
they both fell asleep before anything more happened.  They would continue
to do this off and on for many weeks, until Steven had an orgasm.  It was a
dry orgasm, but the sensation it gave him left him breathless.  He tried to
explain it to Sean, but words failed him.  All he could do was to encourage
Sean to keep stroking.  Finally, a week or so later, Sean joined his
brother in a partial passage to manhood.  And that was the beginning of the
crossroad that would never separate them, but would define their
separateness for the rest of their lives.

As they grew older, Sean's interest in girls became evident.  His desire to
fuck a girl became obsessive.  That's all he talked about in bed at night,
and Steven had to beg him to knock it off.  By the time the boys were
juniors in high school, Sean was dating regularly, and getting some nookie
also.  Sean's girlfriends often mistook Steve for Sean and would surprise
him in the school halls with a hug or even a kiss.  This made Steve
distinctly uncomfortable.  Sean begged Steve to double date with him, but
Steve seemed disinterested and always made excuses.  He was beginning to
discover that he might be gay.  When he whacked off, all he thought about
were naked boys and wanting to do all sorts of nasty things with them.  He
was close enough with his brother that he actually brought up the topic one
night and tried to discuss it with Sean.  Sean would not listen.

"That's crazy," he said.  "It's not possible."  He refused to talk further
about it.  Not talking about it doesn't make it go away.  One week before
school was to begin for their senior year in high school, Sean was getting
laid while Steve was being willingly seduced by another boy.  Unlike most
"first times" it turned out to be a wonderful experience for Steven.

When Sean told him that he had a date, Steve called a friend from his music
appreciation class, and asked him if he would like to meet at the malt
shop. Bryan agreed immediately.  At the malt shop, Bryan informed Steve
that he had recently come into possession of a porn video tape.  He
described it as the hottest thing he had ever seen.  "My folks are out for
the evening.  Come on home with me, and I'll show it to you."  Steve
accepted because he was curious.  At this point he had no idea how sexually
exciting it would be.

Bryan took Steve into his bedroom and closed the door.  He started the TV
and inserted the tape.  The TV faced the bed and the two boys had to get
into Bryan's bed to view the film.  "Please take your shoes off," Bryan
asked politely.

It was a hot and sticky late summer night and the boys were wearing shorts.
When they got into bed their thighs touched, but neither boy tried to move
away.  The film began, and much to Steven's delight, and infinite fear, it
was a male film.  He got hard instantly as did Bryan.

"Where did you get this?" Steve asked in wonder.

Bryan was so turned on that he threw his reserve and caution to the wind.
Risking Steve's scorn and derision, and the possibility of Steve bolting
out of the house, he answered.  "A friend of mine showed it to me in his
basement, and he said I could borrow it for awhile."  Bryan drew in his
breath.  "He and I tried a lot of the stuff in the film.  It was awesome."
He stopped, waiting for a reaction from Steve.  He didn't get any.  Steve
was too busy watching the film and stroking his cock underneath his cargo
shorts.  "Wanna try some of that stuff?" Bryan asked.

"Uh huh, but let's watch for awhile.  This is so hot."  Bryan got naked and
Steve followed suit.  Steve jumped when Bryan pushed his hand away and
started stroking his cock.  Geez, it felt so good, so he did it to Bryan.
At last he held a strange cock in his hand just like in his fantasies.  He
almost forgot about the film and closed his eyes in pleasure.  Suddenly his
cock felt hot and moist.  He opened his eyes and Bryan was leaning over him
sucking his cock.

He was breathless, but he managed to give out one long aaaaah.  He put his
hand on the back of Bryan's head and pushed the boy deeper into his crotch
as he experienced the most intense orgasm of his life up to then.  Bryan
rolled over on top of him and rubbed his cock against Steve's until it was
gushy with left over cum.  Then he crept up Steve's body and presented his
cock to Steve's mouth.  Steve swallowed the throbbing cock with the hunger
of a starving animal, and in a few deft moves of his tongue, he felt
Bryan's cum filling his throat.  Bryan rolled off Steve and the two lay
quietly for a little while.  Steve was afraid to talk, but he heard Bryan
whisper, "Do you want to fuck?  I've got rubbers and lube."

On the way home, Steve felt good.  His virginity was gone and sex was
everything he dreamed it would be.  Only one thing marred his euphoria.
Should he tell Sean?  Could he tell Sean?  He told Sean everything else.
He had even told Sean he thought that he might be gay, and Sean had pooh
poohed him.  Now he knew for sure.  How would his brother react?  Would he
still love him?  Steven was really scared.

He and Sean got home about the same time, each glowing in the aftermath of
satisfying sex.  As they undressed to get ready for bed, Steve casually
asked, "How many times did you cum tonight, Sean?"

Sean was shocked at the question, but he mumbled, "Twice.  It was great.
When are you going to let me fix you up?  It's time you stopped using your
fist."

"Wimp," Steve laughed, "I came three times tonight, and I didn't have to
use my fist."

"You're kidding me," Sean said and threw his arms around his brother.  The
fact that they were both naked didn't register on either of them.  "It's
about time.  Who was the lucky lady?"

Steve took a deep breath, "The lucky guy was Bryan Thomas," he stated
simply.  Sean did not answer.  He jumped right into bed, pulled up the
covers and turned away from Steven, facing the wall.  Steve began to cry as
he got into bed as well.  He cried most of the night and slept very little.
His brother's rejection was more than he could bear.  At that moment he
could easily have killed himself.  Sean heard his brother crying and felt
his pain, but he didn't know exactly what to do.  Finally a voice deep
within him said, "Show him how much you love him. Can't you see how much he
is hurting?"  Not giving one tiny thought to the fact that they were both
naked, Sean jumped into Steve's bed.  There was precious little room in the
twin sized bed.  Sean nested against his brother.  His limp cock caressed
Steve's ass, without any sexual desires being aroused.  He wrapped his arms
around his crying brother and kissed him on the cheek.  "Stop crying.
Please stop crying," he whispered in Steve's ear.  I'll always be your best
friend and I'll love you forever.  I think you should tell mom and dad.
I'll help you."

In spite of sleeping naked together that night, there was a subtle change
in their relationship after that.  They avoided talking about sex and
avoided being naked around each other, except in the bedroom when they got
ready for bed.  Other than that, nothing changed.  Their social lives had
started down different paths, and that journey continued.  They remained
best friends and confidants until the day Sean was murdered.

In college they shared a room, but Sean was the promiscuous one.  He spent
more nights in the arms of some young lady than asleep in his own bed.  As
it had been in high school, girls continued to come on to Steven thinking
that he was Sean.  Steve could have had a harem, but he could not bring
himself to try fucking the other team.  Steven virtually had the room to
himself, but he never entertained a guest there for fear Sean might come
in.

When he met Paul Leon all that changed.  He knew that Paul was a keeper and
would be part of the family, and he informed Sean that Paul would be
spending many nights in their room.  Paul and Steven often slept together,
without making love, with Sean in the other bed.  He was with them when
they received news of their parents' deaths just weeks before graduation.
It was his strength that got them through the tragedy.

Paul was a townie.  He attended the university but lived in a rented room
off campus.  His parents were dead, and he was putting himself through
college by tending bar on weekends.  The Flamingo was basically a straight
bar all week, but it got very gay on Fridays and Saturdays.  Steve and some
friends went to the bar for the first time early in Steve's senior year.
Steve elected to order the first round, and his fate was sealed.  He stayed
at the bar all night and engaged Paul in conversation as much as was
possible on a very busy night.  He waited for the bar to close and for Paul
to leave.

"Are you following me, I hope?" Paul said jokingly.  He could not believe
that this good looking guy was pursuing him.  Steve was just shy of six
feet tall.  He had blue eyes, strawberry blond hair, a pug nose and a
square chin with a slight cleft.  His tight jeans left little to the
imagination, and left Paul drooling.

"You bet I am," Steve responded.  "Do you think we could have dinner
together soon?"  He stared into Paul's sexy, deep brown eyes.  Paul was
about five feet, ten inches tall.  He had sandy brown hair, a Roman nose
and the whitest teeth Steven had ever seen.  He too was wearing tight jeans
that were designed to rouse a gay man's desires.

"Sure, why not?" Paul answered immediately.  "I start tending bar at nine
tomorrow evening.  Meet me at Sally's at seven."

"Please tell me you mean that," Steve whined.  "I'd die if you are putting
me on and didn't show up."

"I mean it," Paul said.  He gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek and
disappeared into the night.

While devouring hamburgers at Sally's the next evening, Steve learned that
Paul was majoring in education with a minor in math.  He told Paul that he
was a music major, with a minor in business.  As divergent as their majors
were they had much in common.  They loved the same kind of music, films,
books, art, etc.  At the end of the meal, they were sipping coffee and
holding hands.  They knew that they would sleep together that night after
Paul's shift, and they did.  They went to Paul's rented room.

When they were naked they stared at each other for some time before
actually touching.  They both admired their cocks, which were about four
and a half inches flaccid, but soon grew to seven inches.  Steven was
uncut, but Paul was circumcised.  When they had their fill of looking at
each other, they fell into each other's arms.  They began to kiss
passionately with lots of tongue.

They fell onto Paul's bed, and Paul started to twist into a sixty-nine
position, but Steve stopped him.  "No," Steve said, "I don't want any
diversions.  I just want to give you as much pleasure as I can, and make
you as happy as I can.  Just lie back and enjoy."  Paul did as he was
instructed, and Steve got on his knees between Paul's legs.  He leaned over
and began to suck Paul's genital area as sexily as he could.  His tongue
was slow and sensuous.  His lips were warm and moist.  He sucked under
Paul's balls, occasionally rimming Paul's crack.  He teased Paul by licking
all around his cock, but never actually touching it.  Paul's body was
writhing, begging for relief.  Finally Steve took Paul inside himself, and
brought him to a breathtaking climax.  He swallowed all that Paul had to
offer and only surrendered his prize when it softened and wanted to get
out.

Steve slithered up to lie beside Paul only to discover that Paul was
crying.  Alarmed, he asked, "What's wrong?  Did I hurt you?''

"Good God, no," Paul responded.  It's just that you are the first person I
have ever been with that put my pleasure before his own.  You're very
special."  He leaned over and they began to kiss.  Paul kissed Steve
wherever he could reach him until finally he swallowed Steve's cock and
Steve came screaming and bucking like an animal.

Afterward they lay side by side fondling each other, too weak to speak.  At
last Steven found his voice.  "I'm telling you now," he said, "I'm never
letting you go.  You're stuck with me for life."

Paul giggled.  "That's OK with me," he whispered in Steve's ear.

**********

After Paul hung up on the police officer, he attended to Steven.  Steve was
lying on the floor in a fetal position.  He gripped his hair in each fist,
and was crying like a baby.  "Not Sean, not my Sean, not my life," he
cried.  Somehow Paul managed to get Steve upstairs and dressed and then he
dressed himself.  At least a half hour had passed until they were finally
on the road, and all Paul could think about was that the policeman would be
pissed off that it took so long.  That was only the beginning of the
nightmare.

The bodies had been removed to the police morgue to be examined by the
medical examiner for possible clues as to who may have committed this
dastardly act.  Steven had to identify the bodies.  Paul and a police
officer literally had to hold him up and drag him into the morgue.  When he
saw his brother's pale remains, he collapsed again and had to be
hospitalized.  He was nearly useless to take care of things.  It remained
for Paul to make funeral arrangements, petition the courts for my
guardianship, and to engage a realtor to dispose of my parent's home and
assets.  It was a long and grueling process, during which time Steve was
virtually useless.

There was only one area where Steve seemed to be able to function and help
Paul out.  When it came to my welfare, he was able to get hold of his old
rational self.  He arranged for my furniture and clothing to be sent over
to his house and he set it up in the second bedroom.  He was able to
interview and hire a nanny named Bessie, who eventually became like a
member of the household.  His desire to care for his orphaned nephew was
instrumental in bringing him back into the world as a functioning human
being.

I bet that when my uncle agreed to be named my guardian in my father's
will, in the event of the early demise of both my parents, he never thought
he would have to actually assume the role.  The poor guy was suddenly
burdened with disposing of my parents' house, transferring all their assets
to him, in trust for me, arranging two funerals, and God knows what else.
The last thing he needed was an untrained rug rat.  But Uncle Steve with
the help of his partner, Paul, rose to the occasion.  By the time all the
estate administration was over, I was past my third birthday, walking and
running, beginning to train, and making myself less of a burden to Uncle
Steve.  I really should stop calling my uncle, Uncle Steve.  From the time
I started talking I called him Dad.  Uncle Steve also had the help of my
nanny, Bessie.  She was a rather plump African American.  She loved me and
I loved her dearly.

Before all that, just before my third birthday, my uncle/dad legally
adopted me.  I have a vague recollection of that of course, but nothing
changed for me.  What I mean is that I didn't have to change my name or
anything.  I don't even remember my birth parents.  Now in my adult years,
when I think back to my earliest memories, I vaguely remember being in a
court room, and I remember a smiling judge shaking Dad's hand and then he
shook Paul's hand.  I wasn't legally Paul's son, because our state did not
recognize adoption by same sex couples.  Nevertheless, he was as much my
father as Uncle Steve.

I was past five before I realized that Paul and Steven were somehow
related.  I called them both Dad, and they called each other `honey' and
`sweetie' and they slept naked in the same bed.  I was a `tween' before I
realized the significance of that.  I loved both my dads and so I never
thought anything about it.  I have to admit that I never let on in school
that I had two dads.  When asked about my mother, I told the truth.  "She's
dead," I would say and look downward in sorrow.  This evoked pity somehow
and generally stopped any further questioning.

My fondest early childhood memories are of being demonstratively loved by
my two dads.  They both enjoyed hugging and kissing me until I was out of
breath.  Then they would tickle me and make me laugh so hard that I would
lose my breath again.  The laughter is what I remember the most, and the
warmth and the love they showed me when they bathed me.

Until I was about four they took turns bathing me in the bathtub.  They
would soap me up really good, and then wash the soap off my head with a
beach pail.  I remember how I giggled when the water cascaded down my head.
They washed every part of me and toweled me down until I squeaked.  I know
for sure that I had pajamas, but I never wore them.  I always slept nude.
I guess that's because my two dads did also.

Once when I was about five, they had some friends over.  When they sent me
off to bed naked, one of the friends made a remark and Paul said, "No kid
of ours is ever going to be ashamed of the human body, especially his own."
The three of us thought nothing about parading around the house naked when
Bessie wasn't around.  Trust me, it was so common place that it was natural
for us to do so, and it never caused anybody to get hard.  Well, almost
never.  I remember once Steve was doing something at the sink.  Paul came
up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve.  I noticed that Steve's
prick started to thicken just like in the shower.

Yes!  The shower is another fond remembrance of my early youth.  When I got
too old to be bathed, my dads took me into the shower with them.  Sometimes
it was just me and one dad, and sometimes it was all three of us.  When we
were all in the shower together I noticed what I came to think of as a
wienie phenomenon.  My dads would help each other out by scrubbing each
other's backs.  When one of them reached below the other's ass, then the
cock of one or both of them would begin to change size.  It just fascinated
me.  I asked about it once and Paul said, "It will happen to you someday.
When you're a little older, I'll explain it all to you."  I had to be
satisfied with that answer until I did indeed grow older.

By the time I was ten or eleven years old, I began to understand the
relationship between my parents.  I myself was not disturbed.  I knew how
much they loved each other and how much they loved me.  I even had to
admire Paul's decision to remain with Steven when he got stuck with me.  It
was my schoolmates I worried about, and that's why I stuck to the story
that my mother was dead and Uncle Steven was my birth father.  By telling a
little white lie I tried to keep my life uncomplicated.  By its nature,
life is a complicated process, and a man deceives himself if he thinks he
can keep it simple.  My life was to get more complex as I got older.

I guess I was a pretty uncomplicated kid until I started to have wet
dreams, and masturbation was often discussed in the schoolyard.  The
difference between boys and girls was another wide eyed wonder of a
conversation.  Imagine how awestruck we boys were when we learned that we
could insert our penises into a girl's vagina and it would make a baby
and/or produce infinite pleasure to the boy's body.  Girls were no longer
pests.  They became objects of prey.  I say this with the full knowledge
that I am being politically incorrect, but I never met a cock yet that gave
a fuck (pun intended) about political correctness.

If there is one thing I can state about my two dads, without fear of
contradiction, is that they were always honest with me about body functions
and about their relationship with each other.  They encouraged me to ask
questions and they answered all my questions as I asked them, but they
always attempted to keep those answers age appropriate.  As I write these
words, I find that I love them all the more for their candor and honesty
with me.  As my curiosity about sex grew so did the number of questions I
asked them.  I must have asked sixty questions an hour.  Finally, one
evening after dinner, we were sitting in the living room watching the
evening news.  None of us had any clothes on.  I think I was driving my
dads crazy with my questions.  Finally Steven shut the TV and addressed
Paul and me.

"That's enough," he said.  "Paul, I think it's time for our son to hear it
all and get it right between the eyes."

Paul looked pained, but my ears perked up.

"The stage is yours," Paul said.  "Remember, he's not quite eleven," and he
gestured with his hand as if he was seeding a garden patch.  Then Steven
began to narrate the process of reproduction being totally clinical and
heterosexual about it.  I was awestruck, frightened and excited all at the
same time.  He also stressed the point that pregnancy could be prevented
using protection, and thereby the act of procreation could also be an act
of pure fun and pleasure.  I had no idea what protection was or what
procreation meant, but I decided to wait for another day to find out.  He
could not describe an orgasm to me, but spoke of its joys.  I couldn't wait
for my first experience.  I was also the most informed tween in my school.
Did I not have the best dads ever?

My curiosity was satisfied for about thirty seconds, and I could see my
dads breathing a sigh of relief, when I casually asked," What about you
two?  How do two men make love?  How about two women?"

I never saw two men grow more red faced so fast.

"It's a little complicated," Paul said.

"Yes, we'll discuss it when you are older," Steve piped in.

"You always say that to me.  When will you accept the fact that I have a
very high level IQ, and that I am plenty grown up?"  I went into a deep
pout that always worried them, and served to get their attention.

"Son," Steve said, "how about you go to bed now and let Paul and I discuss
the best way to explain it all to you.  I promise that we won't put you
off, but it's a difficult subject and we want to make sure we describe it
to you in a proper manner, and in a way that you will understand."  I knew
Steve meant what he said.  He always called me "son" when we were about to
have a serious discussion.

"Can I expect us to resume this discussion tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes, Conner," he said.  I knew he had relaxed a bit because he suddenly
remembered my baptismal name.  I trotted off to bed, but I couldn't sleep.
I could hear them talking long into the night, but I couldn't hear what
they were saying.

The next day happened to be Sunday, and we all went to church together.  My
dads attended a gay church.  Even the pastor was gay, and he had introduced
me one Sunday to his partner.  The pastor always treated my dads as if they
were special, and I guess they were, raising a child and all.  After the
service Paul took our minister aside.  I could tell they were having a deep
conversation.  I wondered if it was about telling me how men had sex with
each other.  My parents always preferred to call it `making love' rather
than `having sex.'  Whatever Paul and the minister talked about, I'll never
know, but I do know that Paul came back to Steve and me with a happy grin
on his face.

We had Sunday brunch out, as we did every week.  We then went home, and we
got naked, and watched sports on TV all afternoon.  We did that every
Sunday afternoon of the year.  Somehow I felt things were going to be
different this Sunday.  I just knew that today was going to represent the
beginning of the education of Conner Jensen.

We got home about two in the afternoon and I was surprised that my folks
stayed fully dressed.  They motioned for me to sit down on the sofa.  They
sat down on either side of me.  Paul cleared his throat.  "After some
discussion, and further consultation with Reverend Robert, we have
concluded that the best way to teach you how straight couples and gay
couples make love is to show you."

"Fantastic," I shouted out.  I've always wanted to see you two make love."

"Good grief, Conner," Steve exploded.  "We're going to show you films.  It
would be entirely inappropriate for you to watch us, and maybe even
illegal."

"I don't see anything wrong with it," I protested and put on my pout face.
This time it didn't work.  "My friend Carl told me that he accidently saw
his mom and dad making love."

"Accidently is the key word," Steve said.  He inserted a tape into the VCR
player and it was carefully set to a particular sequence.  "We pre-set this
scene last night," he said.  It was, looking back on it now with an adult
brain, a very tasteful depiction of a man and a woman making love.  They
did it all, except anal.  The man did not use a condom.  It was obviously a
very old film.  He withdrew at the end, and I saw him spurt all over the
woman's stomach.

Steve stopped the tape and remarked, "The man withdrew because if he came
(that was the first time I heard that word) inside of the lady, she might
get pregnant.  So, son, do you have any questions?"

By calling me `son' I was warned to keep it serious.  I shook my head.

Paul ejected the tape and put in another.  Again the tape was pre-set to a
specific scene.  Two handsome young men were sitting on a sofa together.
They began to kiss and fondle each other.  Over the next fifteen minutes,
they managed to undress without any of us seeing them do it.  The first
thing they did was perform oral sex on one another.  At that point I caught
a glimpse of Paul giving Steve a quick kiss on the cheek.  I was used to
that and it made me feel good to know that they still loved each other.  I
don't know how many times I had heard them talking about good friends who
had split up after a number of years of living together.  I lived in
constant fear that my dads would split and I'd be passed back and forth
between them, or worse yet, never see Paul again.

One of the young men turned on his back and the other began to lick his
butt crack.  Now my interest was really piqued, but in a bad way.  I think
I was grossed out.

"Do you guys do that?" I asked.

Obviously they were both prepared for the hard questions.  "Yes," they said
in unison.  I expected to hear more, but they remained silent.

After that, the guy who did the licking, spit on the other's crack and that
grossed me out even more.  I had been taught that spitting was a no-no.
Then it happened.  The spitter slowly inserted his cock into the other's
ass.  Paul pointed out that he was wearing protection, but I was not
enlightened.  I never saw him put anything on and actually the condom was
practically invisible.

"That feels so good," the recipient said.  The fucker was silent as he
started to pump.  The two men grunted and moaned and told each other how
good it felt.  The fucking went on way too long and Paul advanced the tape
to the end of the scene.  The guy on top pulled out as in the prior scene.
We saw him shoot all over his partner's torso, although we never saw him
remove his protection.  The guy on the bottom rubbed some of the semen on
his cock and began to stroke himself until he too shot out the white
viscous fluid.  The two men wiped their bodies with their fingers and
offered their cum to each other as the scene ended.  Paul ejected the tape.

"Any questions, son?" Steve asked again, very clinically and very
seriously.  All I could think of was that my two dads did these things
together and I was totally grossed out.

I think they could read my face because Paul said, "Conner, when two people
love each other as much as Steve and I do, we want to give each other as
much pleasure as possible.  What might seem dirty and unacceptable when
performed merely as an act of lust, is a beautiful thing to lovers.  Always
keep in mind that sex without love is just a way for the body to relieve
itself, but making love will transport your soul to heaven."

How beautiful!  But way beyond me.  I had insisted on being instructed, and
my liberal parents obeyed my wishes.  However, I now realized that I really
wasn't ready to be the recipient of all this knowledge.  In fact, I tried
to avoid the subject of sex with them for at least another three or four
years.  Only once did I say something to them about the subject.  I think I
was twelve years old.  After several failed attempts, I successfully
masturbated to climax.

I had asked them about masturbation years ago when the subject was first
discussed in the school yard.  They had no trouble explaining that it was a
healthy and normal thing for men and boys to do.  Contrary to popular
opinion I would not get warts on my palm or go to hell.  They admitted that
they did it to each other and often did it alone if they were in the mood
and the other one wasn't around.

I waited until we were all three relaxing and watching TV in the living
room.  We were naked.  Steve had his arm around Paul's shoulder, and Paul's
head was resting on Steve's chest.  They looked so happy and content.  The
sight of them sitting this way filled my heart with love.  I knew it was
the perfect moment for a confession.

"Dads," I said out of the blue.  "I've been trying to whack off, but
nothing has been happening.  This morning I was successful and I know now
what an orgasm is.  Wow, it's so wonderful.  I even shot out some watery
fluid."

My two dads sat there numb.  I don't think they were expecting so much
candor from me even though they raised me to be that candid.  When they got
their heads cleared, they jumped up and naked or not, they hugged me.  They
were grinning and laughing and Steve said, "Today you are a man."

This was followed by a clinical discussion about how my body felt, did I
want to do it again right away, did I want to wait awhile, etc.  It was too
scientific a discussion to be erotic.

Finally Paul asked the fateful question.  "What were you thinking about
when you were doing it?" he asked.  I know now that he was trying to get a
bead on my developing sexual orientation, but at the time I didn't know
what he was driving at so I answered honestly.  "I really don't remember.
I'll try to pay attention next time."

The next morning, we were rushing through breakfast.  I had to make the
school bus and my dads had to get to work.  "Dad," I said, addressing Paul.
"I did it again this morning."



"And what did you think of?"  Paul asked eagerly.

As usual I told the truth.  "First I thought about you two guys doing it to
each other (a big grin crossed both their faces) and then when I came I
thought about Lisa Collins doing it to me."

"Who is Lisa Collins?" Steve asked.

"She's the prettiest girl in my class," I said.

"We'd better get a move on," Paul said and we rushed out of the house.

I was on the school bus returning home and I was lost in thought.  At this
point in my life, I was fully aware that my dads were gay.  Most of my
friends were being raised by single parents.  A handful had a mom and a dad
so I really never felt different.  It hit me like a wet towel across my
ass.  They were trying to figure out if I was gay or straight, and my
thoughts during masturbation would give them a clue.  How could I tell them
when I didn't know myself?

At dinner that night I came right out with it.  "How do you know when you
are gay?" I asked.  "When did you guys first know?"

Again they seemed stunned by my directness, but they gathered their
thoughts and Steve said, "When I was about your age, I began to whack off
also, and when I did, I always imagined I was making love to some good
looking guy.  After a while I got the picture.  I asked my twin brother
what he fantasized about, and your father told me he always dreamed that he
was fu... having sex with a woman."

"I don't know when I first knew," Paul added.  "I just seemed to know all
my life.  Apparently everyone around me knew, because I was harassed
constantly in school.  I can't say that I was bullied, but I was often the
subject of jokes.  I pray things are better for gay kids today."

"Why are you asking that question?" Steve asked boldly.

"Because I know you are both wondering, but I can't help you because I
don't know myself.  What would you two want me to be?"

Paul answered immediately.  "I would want you always to be yourself and to
be proud of who you are, straight or gay."  He put his arms around me and
hugged me as Steve smiled broadly.  "Just do me a favor," Paul added.
"When you figure it out, be sure to let us in on it first."

As I matured, I went out on dates with girls, but I never got laid.  I was
tired of being a virgin, but I never did figure out what I wanted.  When I
jacked off, I fantasized making love with any of my friends, male or
female.  I didn't think it was natural.  In my seventeenth year, I figured
I should know by now.  I gave it a lot of thought and concluded that I was
straight, but I was so influenced by the happiness of my two dads, that I
wanted to be just like them even though I knew that you can't cheat Mother
Nature and nobody can make you gay.  You have to be born that way.

In spite of all my analysis, fate was at work, and it was practically out
of my hands.  My high school prom night was coming up.  Supposedly there
were no virgins after that night.  I was nearly fully mature by then.  I
could tell from pictures that I was a clone of my birth father, so I was
therefore a clone of my dad, Steve.  I was an inch taller than he was, but
I had his strawberry blond hair, pugged nose, a sprinkling of freckles over
that nose, a square manly chin and a body that wouldn't quit.  I had spent
hours in the gym working out with my two dads and I was well rewarded for
my efforts.  Oh yes, my cock was bigger than either of theirs and grew
larger when it got hard.  They were both proud of that, but they would
never say anything, of course.

I asked Lisa Collins to the prom and she accepted.  She told me when I took
her virginity that night, that she always thought that I was the handsomest
dude in school.  I admitted that I thought she was the prettiest girl.  I
paid careful attention to that experience.  I had no trouble getting
aroused, and I didn't fantasize that I was with anyone else but Lisa.  I
concluded that I was straight.

"I'm straight," I announced at breakfast the next day.  I think maybe my
dads looked disappointed, but I can't be sure.

"Like we told you," Steve said, "just be happy with who you are, and we'll
be happy for you."

Things changed drastically in our household after I pronounced my
heterosexuality.  My dads did not parade around naked anymore and they
asked me to please wear shorts or something.  At night they closed their
bedroom door.  They had never done that before, even though I had never
intruded on their privacy.  There was also a subtle change in our
conversations.  We rarely spoke about or joked about sex anymore.  To be
perfectly honest I didn't like the change.

I was leaving for college in two months, and at first I thought I could put
up with it, but it really bugged me.  Did they think maybe I would start
judging their life style as unacceptable and that I would love them less?
I couldn't let that happen.  That night at dinner I blurted out, "Look
guys, I really don't appreciate your becoming so up tight with me all of a
sudden.  I want things to be like they were.  If I was gay and you were
straight, and I came out to you, I'd expect you to love me just as much.
Well the tables may be reversed, but I love you more than ever.  The fact
that you guys love each other so much, and show your love in a physical
manner, does not gross me out.  It makes me feel that I have a safe and
secure house to come home to, so fuck your brains out and don't worry about
me."

I could not believe I had said all that.  I wished I could have retracted
every word or at least the part about fucking their brains out.  The two of
them just sat there staring at me.  They couldn't say a word.  Suddenly
Paul dropped his head and I heard him starting to cry.  Steve got up and
put his arms around him.  "Paulie, honey" Steve said, "we did a damned good
job raising him."

When I heard that, I started to cry also, and I wrapped my big arms around
both of them.  When I let go, Paul started to leave the room.  "I'll be
right back," he said.  He came back a few minutes later, naked as the day
he was born, and sat down at the table.  Steve and I jumped up and disrobed
also.  We threw our clothes on a chair and sat down at the table.  We took
each other's hands and Paul said grace before we began to eat.

**********

Never let yourself get overwhelmed by anything life throws at you.  My dads
and I drove on to the massive university campus and spent an hour finding
my dorm.  We got lost several times and my stomach was churning.  I felt so
lost in this place, and what was I going to do without my dads to lean on?
I was certain I could never learn my way around the campus.  Fear can make
you into such a jerk.  Within a week, I knew my way around campus, had
nodding acquaintances with dozens of other students, and I even knew my way
around the downtown area of the city.  Within two weeks I was comfortable
in my surroundings, but I couldn't wait to get home for Thanksgiving.

You know what I missed most about home?  Don't laugh.  I missed the warm
feeling I got knowing that my dads were making love in the next room.
Their love permeated our whole house.  I could feel it all around me, and
it was my main source of comfort.  Now it was gone and I missed it.  I
never realized that their love affected me like that when I lived at home.
I would lay awake in my dorm room at night fantasizing that my dads were in
my room mate's bed making love, and the thought of that helped me fall
asleep.

I digress.  Forgive me.  The day I arrived at the university, Steve parked
as close to my dorm as he legally could, and the three of us schlepped my
stuff to my dorm room.  My room mate was already there.  He had claimed the
bed closest to the window.  I didn't mind at all.  He was totally unpacked,
and his clothes were neatly hung in his closet or placed in his dresser
drawers.  I could see his suit cases stashed under his bed.  His desk was
outfitted and neat, and he was just finishing putting sheets on his bed.
Looking around I thanked the lord that I had been blessed with a neatnick.
I knew I would be hard pressed to emulate him.

My room mate stopped his labors to greet us.  Both my dads did a double
take.  He was drop dead gorgeous.  He was taller than the three of us,
probably 6'4" and was built like a football player.  His sandy hair, blue
eyes, and square chin made him look like the all American hero.  Again I
thanked God that I worked out with my dads constantly and had a killer body
myself.  If not, I would have been totally ashamed to be with him.  "Hi,"
he said sticking out his hand.  "I'm Randy Crewes.  Not like in Tom.
That's C.R.E.W.E.S." He spelled it out for us, and we all laughed.

This was the moment I had trained myself for all my life, and all my life I
had said the words, and nobody ever got upset.  Please Randy, don't get
upset.

I returned his handshake, and said.  I'm Conner Jensen and these are my
fathers, Steve Jensen and Paul Leon."

If Randy was shocked or upset, you would never know it.  His smile never
disappeared.  He shook all our hands with a good strong grip and asked if
he could help us settle me in.  We gladly accepted and in no time, my side
of the room matched his for neatness."

"Where are you from?" I asked.  It turned out that we were from opposite
ends of the same city.

"Are your folks here?" Steve asked Randy.

"I wish," Randy answered wistfully.  "My mom died when I was three and my
dad raised me.  Unfortunately, he had to get right back to work.  He owns a
sporting goods store and he doesn't trust his manager to be on his own.
I'm not there to keep an eye on things now."

"I'm luckier than that," Steve said, "I own a music store, and I trust my
manager implicitly.  In that case, young man, you'll have dinner with us
and you two tadpoles can get to know each other.  Paul and I plan to stay
overnight at the motel down the road and head for home tomorrow."

"Dad," I asked Steve, "how can you call anybody the size of Randy, a
tadpole?"

"Don't be so literal," Paul butted in.  It's just an expression."

My dads took us to a very nice restaurant that had come highly recommended.
At dinner they wisely said very little, and let Randy and me talk and get
to know each other.

"It's interesting," Randy said to me, "that we were both raised by men, and
had no women in our lives.  Did that ever bother you?"

"Not ever," I said.  "They love me deeply and that's all that matters to
me."

Instinctively I knew I could talk freely with Randy so I said, "It's
obvious that my dads are a couple, a very devoted couple, I might add, but
what about your dad?  Didn't he ever want to remarry?"

"I asked him that once.  When I started to date, and he never dated, I
found that strange. He told me that his business kept him too busy, and his
love for me was enough love in his life."

"I would have to differ with your dad," I said.  "I feed off my dads' love
for each other.  It enriches my life in a way I can't explain to you right
now.  Maybe someday I'll be able to.  I want to be a writer.  How about
you?" I asked.

"I'm on a football scholarship and I haven't picked a major yet, but I'm
leaning towards PE."

"That makes sense to me," I laughed.

My dads were listening to our every word, but they said very little.  After
dinner they dropped us off at the dorm and we said our tearful goodbyes.
They both embraced me and kissed me on the lips as Randy watched.

"We'll see you at Thanksgiving," Steve said, "and don't forget; the
telephone works in both directions.  Call us often and not just for money."
Everybody laughed, and I turned away quickly and headed for the dorm
entrance before I could cry.  Randy followed close behind.

As they were undressing for bed in the motel, Steve said, "Randy's gay.
I'll bet you anything."



"You think everyone is gay," Paul chided.

"No, I'm telling you; I'm right.  It was the way he kept smiling at us and
how accepting he was of our family situation.  More than that, I think he
has the hots for Conner."

"I think you're nuts," Paul said, "but if he is gay, Conner better let him
know right away that he's straight."

"Maybe he'll convert our little boy," Steve laughed as he wrestled Paul
down on the bed for the beginning of a night of pure pleasure.

As soon as we entered our room and closed the door, I asked Randy if seeing
us all kiss on the lips grossed him out.  "When you grow up in a household
with gay men coming and going, it's a ritual you get used to," I attempted
to explain.

"Please don't make any apologies," Randy said.  "My father loves me to
death, but he can't seem to show me in any kind of physical manner.  He
used to hold me and hug me all the time when I was little, but since my mom
died, he hardly touches me.  It's like he's afraid, he'll lose me too, and
he doesn't want to get too close."

"Then you should take the initiative, and hug him," I suggested.  "My dads
always say that love feeds the soul."

Randy smiled and grew silent for a minute.  Then he spoke.  "Ordinarily I
wouldn't ask this," he said, "but seeing as your dads are gay, would you
tell me if you are gay?"

His question was strange.  `Would you tell me?' he asked, as if maybe I
would lie about it.  He didn't know me very well, and my answer surprised
him also.  "I have a girl friend and we have had sex often this past
summer.  I've never been with another girl, and I think I'm straight."

"You think?"

"I'm pretty sure.  What about you?"

Randy laughed heartily.  "I was captain of the football team.  What do you
think?"

"I think you haven't answered my question," I said.  "I was on my high
school football team also, and our captain came on to me all the time."

"What did you do about his advances?" Randy asked.

"I ignored them, and we remained friends.  You haven't answered my
question, and by the way, why did you ask me?"  It suddenly occurred to me
that I was having a discussion about sex with Randy as freely and as easily
as I did with my dads so I was prompted to say, "Randy, I like you and I
think we are going to be real good friends.  We are going to share very
close quarters for the foreseeable future.  I'm even certain that I am
going to try out for the football team.  Let's be honest with each other.
Tell me what's on your mind with all these sex questions, and I promise to
tell you whatever you want to know."

Randy smiled at me and took my hand.  "Thank you," he said.  "Here goes!  I
can't answer your question because I don't know myself."

"I didn't know until prom night myself," I said, "so I hear you and I know
where you are coming from."

Randy continued.  "I've only slept with two girls, one time each, but I
slept with a couple of guys many times after they came on to me.  Back home
they were my only fuck buddies, and I slept with both of them often.  I
find myself wanting to be with men more than women.  If your dads weren't
gay, I would never have dared admit that to you.  Thank God, you are who
you are," he sighed.  "I feel like we have known each other all our lives.
I wanted to know if you were straight because I like to sleep nude.  I
can't stand anything on me when I'm in bed, and I jack off a lot and I want
to be able to do it without hiding from you under the covers."

I started to laugh and Randy looked hurt.  "I'm not laughing at you," I
said.  "It's just that I always sleep naked also and I jack off a lot too.
My dads always told me to do it as often as I wanted to so that I would
never get sexually frustrated.  Let's make a pact, Randy.  You and I will
never be shy with each other about sex."

"That's a deal," Randy said.  "I only have two wishes."

"What are they?"  I asked.

"I wish I had grown up in your house and I wish you were gay."

"That's funny.  So do my dads."

"Did you ever see them making love?" Randy asked.

"Hell no.  I wanted to, but they wouldn't allow it.  Mind you, we always
slept with our bedroom doors open, but the rule was they never entered my
bedroom and I never entered theirs.  I heard them often enough and I got
turned on and jacked off.  They must have heard me too.  I hope it got
their juices running.  Knowing how much they love each other gives me a
sense of security.  Can you understand what I am saying?"

"I can understand that all this talk has made me horny as hell.  I'm going
to strip and jack off," Randy said.

"I think I'll join you," I said.

"Man," Randy repeated, "I wish you weren't straight."

The weeks passed, and Randy and I became BFFs.  I made the football team so
we had a lot of naked time in our dorm room and in the locker room after
practice.  I admired his body.  His uncut cock was in proportion to the
rest of him.  Big!  He never tried to come on to me.  Neither of us was
dating.  I kind of felt that I belonged to Lisa, and he just wasn't
interested in dating women, and I knew why.  He confided to me that he was
afraid to be identified as gay, especially by our team mates.  He needn't
have worried.  I was sure that some of them were gay also.  Growing up in a
gay household honed my gaydar and fine tuned it.

As a result of our unwanted celibacy, we spent lots of time together.
There was plenty of sexual longing going on in our dorm room.  I said
longing not tension, mind you.  We jacked off together, and I began to
wonder what it would feel like if Randy touched me there.  Lisa never
touched my cock.  We kissed, and when I was hard I entered her.  She never
had an orgasm all summer while I fucked her.  I had to play with her clit
when I was done in order to get her off.  Oral sex was not on her agenda.

Before we knew it, we were getting ready for Thanksgiving break.  Our
parents were going to meet us at the bus terminal and we felt that it was a
good opportunity for them to meet each other.  At my insistence I made
Randy tell his father about my two dads a few weeks before the break.  I
didn't want any awkward moments.  Randy got off the phone with a smile on
his face.  "He thinks it's cool," he said.

I found out that Randy and his father had no family and would spend the
holiday alone.  My dads had invited several of their friends and neighbors
to Thanksgiving dinner, and unknown to Randy, I asked them how they would
feel about inviting Randy and his father to our holiday dinner.  I reminded
them that Mr. Crewes was straight.  I said nothing about Randy.

"It will be a pleasure," Paul said.  I gave him Mr. Crewes telephone number
and left it to the fates that be.  When Paul told me that his father had
gladly accepted the invitation, and insisted on being called Logan, Randy
and I were so happy, we embraced, forgetting we were naked.  We pulled
apart quickly and tried to make believe the incident had never occurred.

A week later, with just a carry on tote bag each, we boarded the bus that
would take us home for the first time.  Our dads (all three) were planning
a hero's welcome to recognize that we had easily won the first two football
games of the season.

My folks were so excited at the prospect of seeing their son again that
they got to the bus terminal early.  They searched the faces hoping to
identify Logan Crewes, but they didn't know what he looked like.  However,
they knew what Randy looked like and they tried to project.  They saw
nobody that fit the bill.  About fifteen minutes before the bus was due to
arrive, Mr. America came into the terminal.  He was even taller than Randy.
His hair was the same color but tinged with gray.  They knew immediately
that he must be Logan.  Paul thought that he did indeed look like someone
who owned a sporting goods store.  He must have been an athlete in school.

Paul jumped up to ask the man if he was Randy's father, but Steve grabbed
his arm and held him back.

"What's wrong?" Paul asked.

"I know that guy from somewhere.  You know that I never forget a face,
especially one that good looking.  I know that guy from somewhere," Steve
repeated.

"Maybe we bought sports equipment for Conner for him at one time or
another."

"I doubt that.  His store is clear across town from us." Steve mused.
"Give me a second.  It'll come to me."  He thought long and hard, and
suddenly his face lit up.  "I know," he exclaimed.  "I've seen him at
Smiley's."  Smiley's is a gay bar.  I actually had dinner there a few times
with my dads.  The food is excellent.  I wasn't old enough to sample the
bar.  I didn't turn eighteen until the day before I left for college.

Paul took a good look at the man and said, "You're right.  I've seen him
there several times.  I think I saw him there last Saturday night in fact.
He's a real hunk, a man's man.  All the guys hang around him.  Shit if we
weren't married I'd be hovering close also.  I sure hope we're right and he
is Logan.  Won't our friends be drooling over their turkey?  Can I go ask
him now?"

"Wait another moment.  Do we say something about knowing him or do we keep
it quiet?" Steve asked.

"I would say let's keep quiet.  Even if he recognizes us, if we don't say
anything he won't.  If he wants to out himself to us let him do it in his
own time.  Let's respect his privacy."

"But what if one of our guests knows him?" Steve was still uncertain what
to do.

"He knows he's having dinner in a gay home with other guests who may be
gay.  He's the one who is taking the gamble.  Maybe he actually wants to be
outed, and it's his way of coming out to his son.  I say we leave it to
him."

**********

Logan Crewes began to suspect that he was "different" during his freshman
high school year.  He just didn't know how different.  At first he thought
it was his stature.  He stood at least a foot taller than the nearest other
freshman in height, In the locker room after PE class, he noted that he was
the only kid with a fully mature cock that reached eight, uncut inches when
erect.  That was pretty amazing for a fourteen year old.  But he began to
suspect that his difference went way beyond his height.

As much as he loved his gym classes, it was the shower and locker room
afterwards that disturbed him.  While the other boys talked about girls, he
could not help getting aroused by their still immature bodies.  He would
rush home after school, lock himself in the bathroom, and relieve his pent
up sexual tension by dreaming he was having sex with a boy, or one of his
coaches. Often he would cum twice before he was satisfied.  His mother
would ask him how he could spend so much time in the bathroom.  His father
never inquired.  He knew the answer full well.

Logan was determined that he would never give into his desires.  Nobody was
ever going to label him a fag.  He knew that he would never be bullied.
Nobody would dare, but he swore to avoid the label.  All through high
school and college he dated girls and avoided sex.  He actually had the
nerve to tell them that he was very religious and he was waiting for
marriage.  They all seemed to believe him.

In his senior year in college, he met Nancy Brennen.  She was a frail girl,
who barely reached his shoulders.  She was neither pretty nor plain, and
she always looked like she needed someone to take care of her.  That waif
like quality in her pulled at Logan's heart strings.  He asked her out on a
date.  Logan was a BMOC, and Nancy was flattered.  She rarely dated.  Nancy
and Logan grew very fond of each other.  In fact, Logan fell in love with
her.  They married, and on the night of their marriage, Logan took her
virginity and his own as well.  Logan had to pretend he was fucking one of
his male school mates to arouse himself. He usually fantasized it was his
friend Brandon, who was out and proud of his homosexuality.  Secretly Logan
admired him for his honesty and his bravery.

He never cheated on Nancy with a male or a female until she died, and for
years afterwards.  Instead he threw himself into his business, and in
raising his young son Randy.  As a physical fitness buff, Logan spent many
hours at a twenty-four hour gym.  He would sometimes go before work and
sometimes after the store closed.  He and Randy lived with Logan's parents
so he always had a willing baby sitter.

It wasn't until Randy was fifteen that Logan gave into temptation and his
life changed.  From the time Nancy died until that night, Logan's lover was
his fist.  This particular night, he was showering after his workout.  It
was nearly midnight and he was alone in the gym shower.  He began to soap
his cock and it began to rise.  He was stroking gently and he began to
build to a climax so that he was never aware that a young man, no older
than twenty, had entered the shower.  Logan's eyes were closed, but when
the young man saw the scene before him, his eyes bulged.  He got down on
his knees in front of Logan, grabbed Logan's hand and pushed it aside.
Before Logan even became aware of the situation, he was gushing generously
into the man's mouth.  As Logan's cock softened the man released it, stood
up, pulled Logan's head down to his and began to kiss him.  Logan could
taste his own cum and he began to get hard again.

"Can I do that to you?" he asked the young man.  Before he got an answer,
he was down on his knees, and sucking the man's cut cock as passionately as
his long suppressed desires allowed.  The man never had such a good blow
job.  After he came, he even gave out a soft sob.  Logan never saw the man
again.  They both finished their showers, dressed and went home.

Pandora's Box was now opened in Logan.  Whenever he could, he frequented
gay bars.  His stature and good looks made him very popular and he usually
went home with a handsome trick.  His favorite bar was Smiley's, which was
a hang out for more mature men and wasn't as noisy as the places where the
young kids hung out.

**********

"Okay," Steve said.  "You can go now."  Paul went over to the man and asked
if he was Logan Crewes.  Seconds later they were pumping each other's hands
and walking over to meet Steve.  They began to chat like old friends, and
Logan asked if he could come over early on Thanksgiving morning to help
them out.  If he recognized them, he made no mention of it.

"Ordinarily I would say that it isn't necessary, but the boys are such good
friends, it will give them a chance to spend more time together.  The only
thing is that we are going to church in the morning and won't be home until
about eleven.  Why don't you come over between eleven and twelve."

"That'll be great," Logan said.  "We'll come before twelve."

They continued to chat.  It came easily to them and they felt like old
friends even before the bus arrived.  When we got off the bus, there was a
lot of hugging and kissing from my parents.  When Logan saw the
demonstration, he put his arms around Randy, very tentatively.  Remembering
that I had told him that he should be the one to hug his father, Randy
squeezed Logan hard.  Logan squeezed back harder.  Randy felt moisture on
his father's cheek.

The three fathers had previously planned to go directly from the terminal
to a great sea food restaurant to celebrate the early success of their
boys' football team.  We went in separate cars.  When we got settled, Logan
excused himself to go to the bathroom.  Actually he gave the waiter his
credit card and told him to put the whole bill on his card.  Then he
returned to the table.

The three fathers ordered alcoholic cocktails and Randy and I ordered
Virgin Mary's.  We told our fathers to have fun and we would be the
designated drivers.  The food was excellent and the service was wonderful.
At the end of the meal, there was a little argument about the check, but my
dads had to give in.

"See you all Thursday morning," we all said as we headed home.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning," Randy said to me.

That night I did not hear my parents making love.  Damn, they're getting
old, I thought.  Nonetheless, I whacked off as usual.  As I got closer and
closer to climax, I fantasized that I was stroking Randy.  I was shocked.
This was the first time I had masturbated to a totally homosexual scenario.
I wondered if I should tell my parents and decided not to.  Not yet at
least.

The next morning was like old times and I was filled with nostalgia.  We
had breakfast naked in the kitchen.  I couldn't resist, and I said, "You
guys must be ready for social security."



"What do you mean?" Paul asked.  "We're years away."

"Well, I didn't hear you making love last night so I figure that you're
getting old."

"For your information smarty," Steve sneered.  "We fucked each other just
before we left for the bus terminal."

I never heard my dads say `fuck.'  They always said `make love.'  I
realized that they might be sensitive about growing older, and I vowed
never to make jokes about it again.  I couldn't imagine why.  They were in
great shape and looked half their age.  They could easily pass as my
brothers.  For that matter, Logan Crewes looked even younger than they, and
he was three years older.

"Sorry," I said.  "I want to watch tonight and make sure you guys aren't
faking it."  Steve swatted a dish towel across my ass.

"Ow, that hurt," I yelped.  Finally, I felt that I had delayed too long.
"I need to talk to you about something," I said.  "Like old times."

"Shoot," Paul said.

"Randy has confided to me that he's gay.  He never comes on to me or
bothers me in any way, but I know he wants to have sex, I mean, make love
to me."

"Wow," Steve said.  He looked at Paul.  "I told you so," he sneered.  Then
he looked over at me.  "How do you feel about it?"

I think he's a great friend, but I'm still confused.  I still think I'm
straight, but Randy is always on my mind."

"We can't get into your head," Steve said, "but I know you'll figure it
out.  In the meantime don't you think you should call Lisa?  It might help
you decide."

"Bad sign," I said.  "I forgot all about her."  I went into the den to call
so I would have some privacy.  Her mother answered.

"It's so nice to hear your voice," Mrs. Collins said.  "How's college?"

"Great," I said.  "Can I speak to Lisa?"

"Lisa didn't come home for the holiday.  She said that when you call, I
should ask you to call her cell.  Do you have her number?"

"Yes," I mumbled and hung up.

I'll make it short and sweet.  Lisa told me that she was seeing someone and
they were getting engaged.  She was spending the holiday with her future
in-laws.  I was dumped.  The problem is that I felt good about it.  I
decided that I needed to discuss these new conflicts with my dads.

I went back in the kitchen and I told them that Lisa dumped me.  They were
sympathetic, but perked up when I told them that I really didn't care.
Then I told them that Randy was the subject of my last masturbation
fantasy.  You would think that I just told them that I won the lottery.

When they came down from their mountain top, Steve said, "Please go slow,
son.  Don't rush anything.  See how it all plays out.  I've told all our
guests that Randy and Logan are straight, so let's see what happens."  I
didn't know at the time that my folks were thinking of Logan as well as
Randy.


**********

Logan and Randy arrived at precisely 11:45.  I think I shocked the hell out
of Randy when I hugged him tight and gave him a peck of a kiss on his lips.
I think I made his day.  His eyes lit up and he grinned at me, and I was
suddenly very happy.  Logan and my dads exchanged hugs.  Steve told me
later that he hoped Logan would come out of the closet.  It would make for
a much pleasanter evening.  I had to remind him that Randy wasn't out to
his father yet.  That was too much intrigue for me.  Why can't people just
be honest about who they are?  Then I realized that Randy and I weren't
even sure who we were, so how could we be honest about anything.

Our three fathers sent us guys outside to toss around a football so we
wouldn't be in their way.  Logan was put to work setting the table.  He put
all the leaves in the dining room table and set us up for ten settings.  We
could get twelve people at the fully extended table, but it was very tight.
Ten was ideal.

"Who else is coming?" Logan asked Steve.

"We've invited our neighbors on each side of us, one straight couple and
one gay couple, and a friend of ours, who is a recent widower.  His partner
of ten years was killed in a car accident a couple of months ago.  Marty is
still in deep mourning even though his partner was cheating on him with the
other guy, when the accident happened, and they were both killed.  I hope
he won't be a downer this evening."

In the meantime, Randy and I had stopped tossing the ball and were seated
on the back porch.  "I gotta know," I asked.  "When are you going to tell
your father that you're gay?  He's obviously not homophobic or he wouldn't
be here."

"I'm afraid," Randy said.  "Your fathers aren't his son.  You see how macho
he is.  What will he think when he finds out his son is a sissy boy?"  I
became angry.

"You are not a sissy boy.  I'm not either.  Logan gave up a social life for
love of you.  What makes you think he'll love you less?  When I told my
dads that I was straight, they were disappointed, but they loved me as much
as they did a moment earlier."

"Hey, what about it, straight boy?" Randy asked.  "What's with the kiss on
the lips when I came in?"

"I don't know.  You're like a brother to me, and now that I'm back in a gay
house where everybody is kissy, kissy, it just seemed the appropriate thing
to do."

"Oh, I see," Randy said.  "I was hoping it was something more."

"You mean like this," I said.  I leaned into him, and planted my lips on
his.  I pushed his lips apart with my tongue and our kiss turned to
passion.

Randy grabbed me very tightly and I felt him shivering.  "I knew you were
gay," he said.

I knew it.  When someone, myself included, says he's confused and isn't
sure what he is, you can bet a bundle, he's gay."

"I've already told my dads that I had feelings for you and you were my
masturbation fantasy," I confessed.

"The lover is always the last to know.  I can't wait to get you back in
school," Randy purred in my ear.

"You don't have to wait.  Tell your father about us and stay here tonight.
My dads will be thrilled.  They don't care if I'm straight, but they can
relate better to a gay son."

"Will you stand beside me when I tell him?"

"Damn right I will," I said as I squeezed his hand.  "Let's go before the
guests arrive.  They'll be here soon."

We went into the house and found Logan setting the table.  He was alone in
the dining room.

"Dad," Randy began, "could you stop a minute.  I need to tell you
something."  Logan stopped.

"Yes, son, talk to me, but don't look so scared.  You're frightening me."

"Dad, I'm very much in love."  Logan got a big grin on his face.  "You
should know it's Conner I'm in love with.  I'm gay dad."  Logan's grin got
bigger, and Randy's face got more confused.

"That's wonderful," he said and grabbed Randy in a bear hug.  I knew you
two had something going.  I could tell how you looked at each other.
There's only two other people I have ever seen with that look, and it's
your parents, Conner.  Come here," he motioned to me.  I approached them
and big Logan managed to get us both in a bear hug.

"Let's tell Steve and Paul that we are going to be related.  This is the
most exciting Thanksgiving I ever had."

Poor Randy looked at me in complete confusion.  As Logan ran into the
kitchen, Randy said to me.  "I can understand your dads being this happy,
but I don't get what's going on with my father."

"I guess he loves you more than you gave him credit for," I ventured an
explanation.  We followed Logan into the kitchen.  I guess he didn't waste
a minute.  The three fathers were in a group hug and they were crying
together.  They pulled us into the hug.

When we broke up, Logan asked for attention.  I have a confession of my own
to make," he announced.  "Randy, my boy, I'm gay also.  I've always been
gay, but I was ashamed of it so I got married.  I loved your mother, I
swear, but when she died, I pursued my true nature.  I kept it from you
because I didn't want you to be traumatized.  Now that I see what a fine
young man Conner grew up to be with gay fathers, I'm a little ashamed of
myself."

Logan seemed to be a little lost at this point so I pushed Randy toward his
father.  They hugged each other and Randy said, "Wow, this is really a
shocker."

"Not to us," Paul said.  "We've seen your father a few times at Smiley's.
You don't forget a hunk like him.  I'm curious, Logan.  Do we look at all
familiar to you?"

"Sorry guys, no," Logan shook his head.  "What does it matter? We're all
one big happy family now."  He ran over to my dads and kissed them both on
the lips.

"Hey guys," I reminded everyone.  "We have to get ready for a dinner
party."

Then Randy remembered why he came out in the first place.  "Dad, I hope you
don't mind, but I'm spending the night here with Conner."  Logan's face
drew a blank.

"You can stay over too," I offered.  "In the guest room."

"No thanks.  Paul and Steve will be going at it in their room.  Randy and
you will be going at it in your room.  I don't think I could take it.  I'll
be better off at home."  My dads smiled knowingly at him.

The neighbors arrived promptly at five.  Jane and Gerry Hanover, the right
hand neighbors, brought a sweet potato pie.  Mason Johns and Herb Goodman,
the neighbors on the left, brought several bottles of wine, red and white.
Marty Simpson, the final guest, arrived a little late, but he arrived.  He
brought nothing to eat or drink.  My dads sat Marty and Logan side by side.

It was an odd match.  Marty was a good six inches shorter than Logan, and
very thin.  He could use an extra few pounds and some body building.  That
having been said, he was a very handsome man of about thirty-five.  He had
straight brown hair with a tinge of gray.  His eyes were a beautiful light
blue accented by long lashes.  His nose was small and his chin had a cute
cleft.  Logan found him very attractive and the two men hit it off.  They
began to chat animatedly, and seemed to forget about the rest of us.

My dads outdid themselves with their traditional Thanksgiving dinner.  They
didn't neglect to say grace either.  The food was delicious and the
conversation never lagged.  Everyone at the table was a good
conversationalist.  Halfway through the meal Steve went around the table
and asked everyone to say what they were thankful for.  Each couple said
that they were grateful that they had each other, and then they shared a
kiss.  Marty said that he was grateful that his depression seemed to have
left him this evening, and he was feeling really good and optimistic about
the future.  Everyone at the table applauded.  Logan said that he was
grateful that he and Randy had no secrets from each other any more, and he
hoped that it would stay that way.  Then he raised his wine glass, and
said, "Here's to new friends," and he pointed the glass to everyone at the
table.  I said that I was grateful for Randy's undying friendship and for
the two best parents in the world.  I swear I heard Paul sob.  Randy was
too choked up to say anything.

When dessert had been served and we were all just sitting around and
chatting, Paul got up and started to clear the table.  That was a signal.
Everyone got up and helped.  The dining room was restored to its former
self in no time, and the table leaves were stowed away.  The dishwasher was
loaded, the serving pieces, pots and pans were hand washed, dried and put
back where they belonged.  The kitchen counters were sponged clean, and the
neighbors took their leave.  The rest of us retired to the living room.

We all chatted some more, and finally Logan said that he had to leave.  The
day after Thanksgiving was a big sale day at the store, and he needed to
open early.  "I'll come in also, Dad," Randy said.

"That's fine if you want to, but don't rush.  I've got everything covered."

"I'd better go too," Marty stood to go.  As he did he reached into his
wallet, pulled out his card and handed it to Logan.  "Maybe I'll come into
the store tomorrow," he said.  "I need some golf balls and my tennis racket
needs restringing."

"I'll look for you," Logan smiled.  "I'll take good care of you."

After they left, the four of us shut all the lights downstairs, and headed
to the bedrooms.  As was my habit, I didn't shut the door.  Randy knew that
and he didn't question me.  But when my dads went to bed, they shut the
door.  I rushed out into the hallway and opened their door.  They looked
surprised.

"We never shut doors in this house, and I don't want to start now."

"Things are different now," Paul said.

"That's the point," I said.  "Hearing you guys make love is like my
security blanket.  It means that things will never change.  I don't want
them to."  I grabbed my nearest father and hugged him and the other joined
us.  Randy was standing in the doorway smiling.

"So sorry to disappoint you Conner," Steve said, "but we old farts are way
too tired for sex tonight."

"Okay then.  Maybe you'll be in the mood in the morning.  I can last until
then knowing that you are both still madly in love."

"We are," Paul said.  "Now isn't there something you two want to do?"  As I
left the room, Steve handed me something.  It was several condoms and a
tube of lube.

When we got to my room, Randy said, "When I was with the two guys I had sex
with, I always made sure we were protected.  I was especially careful with
the women.  When I took my college entrance physical, I asked my doctor to
test for AIDS, and I was clean.  I haven't been with anybody since."

"I've never been with another man or woman since the last time I fucked
Lisa, and she was never with anyone but me until she left for college," I
said.  We smiled at each other, put the condoms on the dresser and put the
lube on the bedside table.


**********

Logan and Marty left together.  They continued their goodbyes on our front
steps.

"Do you really have to go to sleep?" Marty asked.  "It's only nine-thirty."

"Would you like to come to my place?" Logan asked.  "I'll make us an after
dinner drink."

"If I have that drink, I might not be able to drive."  Marty smiled at
Logan.  "I'd have to stay all night."

"That's kind of what I had in mind," Logan smiled back at Marty.

Randy and I undressed fully.  We had seen each other naked many times, even
jacked off together like two young kids, but we never touched each other.
That was all about to change.  We stood at the foot of the bed facing each
other.  I put my hand on his chest and felt his hairiness.  The minute I
did, I popped a hell of a boner.  It brushed against Randy's.  He gave me a
hug and his tongue met mine.  I found myself actually sucking his tongue.

We wallowed awhile enjoying our oral copulation.  Randy grabbed my lust
hardened prize.  In no time our hot naked bodies were entwined in my bed.
Randy hovered above me, rubbing our two engorged penises together.  I felt
him suddenly greasing my cock.  In no time he was riding my inflamed
erection.  My enthusiasm allowed my fuck slippery cock to slide free from
his anal furnace.  Not missing a beat, he grabbed hold of both of our
swollen penises with furious stroking. I actually became aware of my
elevated moaning.  The ecstasy was intense.  Both of us screamed as our
young sperm began to lubricate our raging cocks.  Suddenly Randy crept up
my body and he presented his cock to my mouth.  I extracted the last of his
juices and we fell asleep with my butt in his crotch.

In the other room my dads could clearly hear our intense love making.
Suddenly they were not so tired.  Their bodies entwined and they began to
kiss.  Their kisses were slow and sensuous, unlike our desperate kissing.
Paul turned his body in bed and they began a relaxed game of sixty nine.
They sucked and tongued teasingly for a long time and finally they both
came in each other's mouths.  Their orgasms were accompanied by some loud
screeching.  By that time we were fast asleep and we never heard them.
After they came, they fell asleep nesting like spoons, just like Randy and
me.

Logan pulled into his driveway and waited for Marty to park behind him.
They went into the house together.  As soon as they were inside and the
door was closed, their lips met.  Logan had to lean down to accomplish this
feat.  Neither man could remember enjoying or giving a more passionate
kiss.

"Could we skip the drink and go right to the fucking?" Marty asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Logan said.  He held Marty's hand and rushed
him upstairs to his bedroom.  They undressed quickly using only a night
light.  Both men were enjoying a full erection.  Marty's penis was large
for his slight frame.  He was about seven inches hard, but he was extra
wide around.  Logan was nine inches hard, but he thought that Marty might
be even wider than he was.  They were both uncut, but they couldn't tell in
their impassioned state.

"I hope you are a good cocksucker," Logan said jokingly.

"I'm the best," Marty bragged.  "Get into bed and I'll show you.  Logan got
into bed and lay flat on his back.

"Spread your legs," Marty commanded.

Marty climbed onto the bed, and got on his knees between Logan's spread
eagle legs.  He leaned over and began to lick and suck all around Logan's
crotch area.  He sucked Logan's pubic area and balls, which were shaved and
free of hair.  He carefully avoided Logan's aching penis, until Logan
begged for relief.  Marty was able to take Logan's full cock in his mouth.
His talented tongue slid up and down the underside of Logan's dick and his
lips pumped sensuously on the outside of Logan's cock as his mouth slid up
and down his prize.  Logan was far out of this world, but he was aware that
this was the best blow job he had ever had.  The bonus was that this wasn't
a one night pick up at the gym or at Smiley's.  This was someone he desired
to take to bed.  The realization made him want to cry, but he was too busy
gushing semen into Marty's mouth to do so.

"Am I a good cocksucker?" Marty asked later as he lay side by side with
Logan.

"You are the best," Logan said.  He leaned over and resumed kissing Marty.
Then he started kissing Marty's lean body descending slowly down to his
pulsating cock.  When he took Marty into him, he was amazed at his
feelings.  He wasn't just giving a blow job; he was fusing with another
human being.  He began to imagine that their bodies were welding together
and they were being transformed into a single human being.  His reveries
were disturbed by a wailing screech as he felt Marty's juices gushing down
his throat.  He tried not to swallow all of it, and afterward, when he
kissed Marty, they shared Marty's residual semen.

They lay quietly side by side, holding hands, and Marty whispered.  "I hope
this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Logan answered by kissing Marty once again, and they fell asleep.  At this
point neither of them realized that they were falling in love.

My dads were off the next day and slept late, but Randy felt obligated to
help his father in the store, so we crept out of bed fairly early.  We
showered together and couldn't keep our hands off our bodies in a vain
effort to make up for lost time.  Finally we went downstairs to prepare
breakfast before Randy had to dress and go to the store.

We were naked of course.  It was the rule of the household.  As we sat down
to eat, my dads came into the kitchen.  They were similarly very naked.
Randy was uncomfortable for about ten seconds, and then he accepted it and
thought nothing of it.  He was now a member of the household.  They
prepared their own breakfast and joined us at the table, but Randy excused
himself to get dressed and go to the store for however long his dad needed
him.

Randy borrowed Steve's car to go to his dad's store.  When we were alone,
my dads looked at me expectantly.  They were mute.

"What?" I asked.

"You know what?" Steve said.  "It was your first time.  We heard a lot of
noise, but we are dying to hear all about it."

"Hah!" I said.  "When you let me watch you making love, I'll tell you all
about it.  Until then, it's private."  I was kidding but they thought I was
serious.  The poor guys looked so disappointed, I had to laugh.

"It was wonderful; it was mind blowing; it was beyond my wildest dreams.
How could you guys have kept it such a secret?"

"It was hardly a secret.  You complained constantly how noisy we are," Paul
said, sounding very hurt.

"That's only because you wouldn't let me watch," I laughed.  After that we
relaxed a bit and I said, "Dads, I love Randy so much it actually pains me.
He's going to work, and I can't bear the thought that we'll be separated
for a few hours.  However do you stand it when you guys go to work?"

"It's not easy, but you get used to it," Steve said.

I was so suddenly filled with love for these men that I embraced them both,
naked or not.

Randy and I left for school on Sunday morning.  Our three dads were at the
terminal to see us off, but we were quite surprised that Marty was there
too.  We all agreed that winter break could not come too soon, and our dads
told us that we would celebrate Christmas as a family unit.  Logan even
agreed to go to church with us.  He hadn't been inside a church since his
wedding day, but he said he would have a go at it because it was a gay
church.

Back at school, Randy and I made love often.  It was torture to separate
for classes, but the greatest torture was acting aloof at football practice
and at the games.  Whenever our team scored, I would take the opportunity
to hug Randy and then another team member.  It was my sneaky way of getting
an extra hug from my lover.

As much as Randy and I enjoyed being alone together, we counted the days
until Christmas, and being together with our family.  My dads were
impossible gossips and they informed us that Logan and Marty were becoming
an item.  We were so happy for Logan.  He had been alone for too long.

The four of them came up to State one weekend for a home football game.
Randy, of course, played most of the game and I warmed the bench.  I mean
that literally.  Randy kept my ass so hot, I could indeed warm the bench.
We lost the game, but it didn't stop us from having a great dinner that
evening.  The dads stayed at a hotel and left early the next morning.

Winter break finally came.  It was freezing on the bus taking us home.  The
heating system didn't seem to be working well.  Randy and I sat close
together and tried to keep ourselves warm.  I longed for the bed we would
share this evening.  It seemed like it was the longest trip of my life, but
we finally arrived about two hours late.

Our dads and Marty were there to greet us.  Marty was the youngest of the
four, and I was shocked when I saw him.  He didn't look much older than
Randy and I.  He had started to accompany my dads to the gym, and he had
beefed up from Logan's nutritious athletes' diet, and from the exercise
regimen.  In a word, he was really hot.  Logan had a good eye for
potential, when he met Marty.  They made a great looking couple even if
they were Mutt and Jeff.

We were told that Logan and Marty would be occupying the guest room during
our stay at home.  They wanted us all to be together as a family during our
school break.  When we heard that, Randy started to laugh.

"What?" Logan asked.

"Are you aware that the rules of the house require nudity and prohibit
closing doors?"

"Yes, we moved in yesterday.  Your dads sure are noisy, Conner," Logan
informed me, as if I didn't know.

"You and Marty aren't exactly restrained either," Paul laughed.

The fathers had prepared a nice home cooked meal for all of us that
evening.  It was bitter cold and snowing outside, and we were glad to be in
a cozy warm home.  After dinner we all went into the living room.  My dads
made a fire in the fireplace, which is something they reserved for rare
occasions.  Steve lit the Christmas lights and the tree.  The house looked
festive and beautiful.

Paul went to the fridge and took out two bottles of bubbling champagne and
champagne glasses.  He filled all our glasses and proposed a toast:

"I have never been happier in my life.  Steve has always made me a happy
camper, ever since we met, but tonight is extraordinary.  We are blessed to
be spending the holidays with our beloved son.  We love, you Conner.  You
never disappoint us.  And now your love has come into your life and he has
joined our family."  Paul raised his glass and pointed it at Randy.  "We
love you also, son."  Then he looked at Logan and Marty.  "Marty, we have
known you a long time, and we watched you fuck up your life loving a loser
who cheated on you all the time.  Nothing we said could make you see the
light.  Now, without any help from us, except an invitation, you have
turned your life around.  We see a happy, healthy, contented man."  He
raised his glass toward Marty.  "Logan," he continued, "we haven't known
you very long, but in a very short time, you have become our best friend,
our brother, and our son's father in law.  We have seen you come out of
your self imposed exile and out of the closet.  We have seen you
transformed into a happy man, who is not afraid to live the life he was
meant to live, and who is not ashamed to introduce Marty as his partner.
Kudos to you, my friend."  He raised his glass toward Logan.  "Now," he
concluded, "Let's drink to us, to our family.  We are blessed in this holy
season, but it's also the season to be jolly, so drink up all of you before
I cry."

I prayed in my heart that my birth mother and father were looking down on
us, and that they could see what a great choice they made when they
appointed Uncle Steve as my guardian.  In fact, I drank to it.