Date: Tue, 17 Mar 2009 20:58:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "The Caregiver"

The Caregiver

By Tom Borden

John Packard entered the San Antonio General Hospital emergency room at a
running clip.  He inquired at the desk as to where he could find
Dr. O'Neal.

"Dr. O'Neal is in the surgical area, Sir.  You can take that elevator to
the fourth floor."

When Packard stepped off the elevator, he went directly to the nurses'
station.  "I need to see Dr. O'Neal, please."

"I'm Dr. O'Neal," a voice said from behind the desk.

"I'm John Packard, Mrs. Carter's attorney.  I came as soon as you called
about the accident."

Dr. O'Neal took Packard by the arm and led him into a small consultation
room.  "Thank you for coming, Mr. Packard.  I'm afraid I have bad news.
Mrs. Carter passed away not long before you arrived.  We tried, but there
was little we could do to save her.  Her injuries were massive."

Packard leaned forward in his seat.  "But how about the boy, her son Bobby?
I was at their house this morning and saw them drive off.  She and the boy
were on their way to Austin for a scholarship interview at the University."

"He's in critical condition, Mr. Packard.  We had him in surgery all
morning, but we couldn't save his right leg.  It was crushed so badly, we
had to amputate it just above the knee.  He also had several broken ribs
and a good many cuts and bruises on his face and body."

Packard covered his face with his hands.  "Oh, my God.  How terrible.  He's
been the star baseball player for his high school team.  It's so sad."

"Mr. Packard, we found your name in Mrs. Carter's purse, but found no other
names that were listed to call in case of an emergency.  Do you have the
names of other family members?"

"No.  It was just Louise Carter and Bobby.  Her husband died when Bobby was
only a baby, and there were no other relatives."  Packard took a deep
breath.  "My good Lord.  Bobby's all alone now.  What a tragedy.  He's only
seventeen.  In addition to Louise's legal matters, I also handled all her
money and finances.  And I'd better notify Bobby's girlfriend, Lisa.  They
were very close."

Just then, Packard looked out the open door and saw Lisa at the desk.  He
rushed out to meet her.

"Lisa.  You've heard?"

"Yes, I heard about the accident on my car radio.  Where is he?  Can I see
him?"

"He's had surgery and is in recovery.  I don't know when you'll be able to
visit him.  It was a very bad accident, and I'm so sorry to tell you it was
necessary to amputate one of his legs."

Lisa burst into tears.  "Oh, no.  Oh no."

Dr. O'Neal came out and said, "You may be able to see him later this
afternoon or evening."

"No, no," she screamed.  "I can't see him.  His leg was cut off?  No, I
can't see him.  It's too terrible."

"What's the matter?  He'd want you to be with him."

"Don't you understand?  I can't have a boyfriend who's got only one leg.
It's awful."  Lisa turned and ran for the stairs and disappeared.

Packard turned to Dr. O'Neal.  "I'll talk with her later.  I'd better go
now and make the funeral arrangements for Mrs. Carter and, for Bobby's
sake, get the financial affairs in order.  I'll be back this evening.
Hopefully, I'll be able to see the boy then."


After Packard departed, Dr. O'Neal left orders at the desk that a nurse
would be needed to tend to the boy throughout the night.  Because of the
nature of his injuries, he though a male nurse would be best.  The Head
Nurse called for Ricky Faulkner to come to the desk.

When Ricky arrived, she said, "Ricky, we need you to stay on the night
shift to attend to a very sick accident victim.  His name's Bobby Carter
and he'll be in Room 312."

"But I've already made plans.  My girlfriend Carla and I have reservations
for dinner.  She'll really be disappointed.  This happened last week, too,
if you'll recall."

"It can't be helped," the head nurse said, as she went back to her paper
work.

Ricky and Carla lived together in an apartment not far from the hospital.
He dreaded having to call her.

"Carla, we have to cancel tonight.  I'm needed here on a bad case."

"You're making a habit of this, Ricky.  I'm all dressed and ready to go."

"I'm sorry Carla, it's my job."

"I have to tell you that your job and I are not very compatible."

"Oh, don't be that way, Carla.  I love you."  Ricky heard a click on the
other end.

He went directly to Room 312 just as Bobby was being wheeled in on a
gurney.  Although the boy was still not conscious, Ricky busied himself
setting up the IV and other paraphernalia needed.  After awhile he sat by
the bed and looked at Bobby.  He'd seen a number of accident victims over
the past three years since he became a nurse, but Bobby's condition almost
made him want to cry.  Only seventeen, he thought.  Why?

Ricky spent the night checking the IV and the dressings on the boy's
injuries.  He'd been told that the boy was now all alone in the world, and
when he looked at the fully bandaged stump of Bobby's right leg, a helpless
feeling came over him.  How could life be so unfair.

Early the next morning, John Packard returned and stood looking down at
Bobby.  "The doctor told me he'll be sedated for the next day or so and
recommended that he not be told about his mother's death until sometime
later.  I'm glad you were with him last night, Ricky.  I hope you'll
continue to be his nurse.  I don't know whether or not his girlfriend will
be coming around to visit him.  Yesterday, she acted as though she never
wanted to see him again.  You know, a boyfriend with only one leg was not
something she was ready to accept."

"I'll be here, Mr. Packard.  I don't know why I'm always assigned these
heartrending cases."

"I'm sure, young man," Packard said, patting him on the shoulder, "it's
because you've got a heart and want to be a part of their recovery."

Ricky smiled.  "Maybe."

"May I ask how old you are?"

"I'm twenty-five and am well experienced in this kind of case.  You needn't
worry."

When Ricky returned to his apartment later that morning, he found Carla,
fully dressed and asleep on the sofa.  On the coffee table was an ashtray
full of cigarette butts and a glass half-full of something that smelled
like Gin.

He shook her.  "Wake up.  I'm home."

She opened one eye and peered up at him.  "So you are.  I hope you had a
good time last night.  I had a ball."

"I thought you were trying to quit those cigarettes.  We had an agreement."

"Fuck you, Ricky."  She sat up and held the ashtray under her nose.  "I
finally realized these are the only friends I have anymore."

Ricky turned and went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  Nothing
looked good.  He wasn't hungry.  In the bedroom, he stripped down and went
in to take a shower.  As he lathered up his body, he thought about how
things were getting worse and worse between Carla and him.  He loved her,
though.  And the sex was always good.  She was the best cocksucker he'd
ever known.  And she liked it up the ass, too.  No other woman he'd ever
been with liked that.  As he lathered up his crotch, he could feel his
penis getting hard.  It took him only a few strokes to bring him to orgasm.
He watched the pearly white sperm as it swirled down the drain, and thought
about the tons of it he'd pumped into Carla over the three years they'd
been together.

He got dressed and left immediately without a word to Carla, who was still
sitting on the sofa with another cigarette between her fingers.  He would
get some rest in the Nurses' lounge at the hospital.

Ricky spent the next three nights tending to Bobby.  The boy was finally
fully awake on the fourth day.  That morning, Ricky found Mr, Packard
standing by the bed.

"Ricky," he said, "I want you to stay in here while I tell Bobby about his
leg and also about his mother's death.  I know it will be hard on him, and
perhaps you can help.  Maybe give him another sedative or whatever you do
in cases like this."

Mr. Packard took Bobby's hand and very quietly told him that it had been
necessary to amputate one leg.

Bobby quite calmly said, "I know."  It was almost as though he really
didn't believe it.  Then looking up into both Packard's and Ricky's faces,
he said, "Where's mother?  Is she here?"

When Packard told him that she hadn't made it and had died of severe
injuries, Bobby fell apart and cried uncontrollably.

Ricky took the boy's hand in one of his and, with the other, caressed his
head, brushing his thick blond hair back out of his eyes.  "It's all right,
Bobby, go ahead and cry.  I'm here with you."

Bobby clutched Ricky's hand as though it were a lifeline.  With his other
hand he grabbed hold of Ricky's bare arm and held onto it almost like a
drowning man grasping a life jacket.

Ricky had been in these situations a number of times before and had always
been in firm control of his emotions.  But to see this particular young man
hurting so much and crying, tore him apart.  Tears began to roll down his
own cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Packard.  I don't know what's the matter with me."

Packard patted Ricky's shoulder.  "I understand.  What's happened is hard
for all of us to deal with."

"It's all right now if you want to go," Ricky said.  "I'll stay here with
him.  We'll get through this."

Packard touched Bobby's cheek and left quietly.

Ricky held onto the boy's hand and continued to caress his hair until Bobby
became calmer.

Bobby looked up into Ricky's eyes, now red and wet, while continuing to
hold tightly to Ricky's hand and arm.

"Hi, Bobby.  My name's Ricky, and I'll be here with you as long as you want
me to be."

More tears began to well up in Bobby's eyes.  "Is it really true what he
told me?"

"Yes.  But you're alive, and you're going to be all right."

"Lisa?  Does Lisa know?  She's my girlfriend."

"I think she does."  Ricky didn't tell him about her reaction when she was
told.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Bobby.  I'm sure she'll come."

"Could you call her for me?  I can't remember her number right now.  But
it's in my wallet, I think.  Do you have my wallet?"

"Yes, we have it."  Ricky was angered when he heard about Lisa's reaction.
He knew that Lisa didn't intend to come back to see Bobby.

Ricky rose up and removed Bobby's hand from his.

"Where are you going, Ricky.  Please don't go."

"I'm just going into your bathroom for a minute.  I have to pee."

Ricky stood at the toilet and felt his eyes burning and tears literally
gushing down his cheeks.  He just let them flow freely.  When he'd looked
into Bobby's face, the boy's big brown eyes seemed to call out for someone
to help him . . . to help him understand.  He'd felt a compulsion to take
Bobby into his arms and hug him tightly.  If it weren't for the broken ribs
and the heavy bandaging around the boy's torso, he would have done it.
There was something about this boy and his desperate need for Ricky to be
with him and not leave him.  In Ricky's entire life, no one had ever
demonstrated a need for him.  Not his parents, not Carla, no one.  Carla
wanted to be waited on and pampered . . . and fucked.  But she really
didn't need him for any of that . . . for anything.  What was wrong with
him?  He'd never felt exactly like this with anyone, much less with one of
his patients.  What was it about this boy that was so endearing?


Ricky volunteered to spend the ensuing nights with Bobby, always to Carla's
distress.  Each night he bathed the boy and found it strangely exciting to
feel his light skin on his fingers, so clear and unblemished, except for
his bruises.  He could feel that Bobby was giving himself, his whole body
to him, almost like a baby would give himself up to his mother's caresses.
As he was being bathed, Bobby would sometimes hold on to Ricky's arms as he
trained his eyes on Ricky's face.

One night after Ricky had given him his bath, Bobby talked about his
mother, obviously a woman of great love and tenderness.  Ricky wondered
briefly if the boy looked at him as a mother.  And did he love him as his
mother, or did Bobby feel something different for Ricky.  When Bobby looked
as though he was ready to sleep, Ricky instinctively leaned over and kissed
the boy on his cheek.  He'd never before touched his lips to another man's
skin, but this kiss sent what felt like an electric shock through his
veins.

As Bobby slept, Ricky usually dozed in a chair next to the bed, often bent
over with his head on the covers.  Throughout the night, he'd awaken
several times to check the IV and watch his breathing.  He looked into the
boy's face and wondered if there could ever be anything as sweet as the
face of a sleeping boy.  So child-like.  So innocent.  Carla's sleeping
face came to his mind.  Although she was pretty enough, there was a
hardness to it, a sort of selfish, self-absorbed expression that was common
to all the women he'd known.  In Bobby's face, there was a profound
vulnerability and a look of trust.  Trust in him . . .  that he, Ricky,
would be there and would take care of him.

One morning, Ricky awoke with Mr. Packard standing beside him.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Ricky said.  "I was awake and re-filled his IV,
but I must have gone back to sleep."

"I know you've been very constant with Bobby the last several of weeks,"
Packard said, "and you deserve your sleep.  But our young man has a future
coming up that needs to be dealt with.  Since he has no one, and he's not
yet of age, a guardian needs to be appointed.  On top of that, he won't be
able to go back to his home and live alone.  So other arrangements need to
be made.  I've gathered the information I need from the hospital, and I'll
be going to have the court consider what can be done for him."

As Packard was talking, Ricky helped Bobby into his wheelchair.  He stood
behind the boy and looked up at the man.

"Mr. Packard, why couldn't I be his guardian?  We've become very close, and
I'm sure he'd like that.  And on top of that, he trusts me."

Bobby turned his head and looked up at Ricky with a broad smile.

"You?"  Packard looked hard into Ricky's eyes.  "It would be a bit unusual,
but I admit it might be better than some stranger taking him on.  But that
will have to be decided by the court."

"I have a nice first-floor apartment and he'd have his own room.  And I
know all the doors there are wide enough for a wheelchair.  He's due to
have his first fitting for a prosthesis.  But he doesn't have to stay in
the hospital for that.  I can drive him in each day."

"We could give it a try.  I'll need to present to the court complete
background information on you with references, and all that sort of thing,
to show that you would be fit for such a responsibility.  And of course,
the child welfare people will have to get involved."

Several days later, Ricky and Mr. Packard laid out the facts before the
judge.  The child welfare people, however, were not in favor of Ricky
taking the boy to live with him as guardian.  They didn't like the fact
that Ricky was not married to the woman he lived with.  It would not
provide a good family atmosphere.

Mr. Packard argued that Bobby would be eighteen within the year, and what
he needed was not a family atmosphere, but someone who took a great
interest in him during his recovery.

The judge agreed, and Ricky was promptly appointed Bobby's guardian.


"You're what?" Carla exploded.  "You're bringing that cripple here to live
with us?  You're out of your mind.  What about us?"

"Yeah, what about us?" Ricky said.  "This happens to be my place, and I
make the decisions as to who lives with me."

"I suppose, while you're off doing your thing at the hospital, I'll be
expected to sit here and take care of him.  Is that the idea?"

"No that's not the idea.  I'm taking two weeks vacation, so I'll be here to
help him."

"Then after you go back to work, he'll be my job.  I'm sure that's what you
have in mind."

"Wrong again.  While in the hospital, he's been learning a lot about how to
take care of himself.  You can go about your business and not be bothered.
I'll take care of any needs he has."


Bobby was delighted finally to leave the hospital and move into Ricky's
apartment where he would have his own room.  But most important, he would
be near Ricky.  He was acutely aware and thought it rather odd that he had
hardly given a thought to Lisa.  His most pleasant thoughts were now
centered around his growing relationship with Ricky.  Not only was Ricky an
enormous help to him, it was the feel of his hands on his body during his
baths, along with the sweet look of longing in Ricky's eyes that strangely
excited him.  The times when Bobby ran his hands over the soft hair on
Ricky's muscular arms were erotic enough to make his penis jump and throb.
He never before had any erotic feelings come over him by touching another
man's arm.  But this was Ricky's arm, and that made all the difference.

After Bobby moved to the apartment, Ricky continued to give him sponge
baths.  With each bath, he became more aroused by the feel of Bobby's skin
on his hands and the stiffening reaction of the boy's penis to his touch.
One night after the bath, when Ricky leaned over to give him his usual kiss
on the cheek, Bobby reached up and took Ricky's head between his hands and
kissed him on the lips.

"I'm sorry," he said.  "You've been so good to me, I just couldn't help
it."

With hardly a thought, Ricky kissed him back, and their tongues slipped
between each other's lips for a very short moment before they pulled out.

"You've been good for me, too, Bobby."  Ricky ran his hand gently over the
boy's cheek.  "Tomorrow's a big day.  We'll be going in for the first
fitting of your new leg."

Without hesitation, they kissed again, longer and deeper.

When Bobby looked tired and ready for sleep, Ricky asked him if he'd like
to have his back rubbed before he went to sleep.  He wanted any excuse to
run his hands once again over the boy's soft and smooth teenage skin.

"Yes."  Bobby quickly rolled over on his stomach.

Ricky started at the neck and slowly and firmly brought his hands down over
the muscles of Bobby's broad back and narrow waist.  Then he carefully
caressed the boy's firm, round ass cheeks.  As he felt his own penis expand
and throb, Bobby began to moan with the pleasure of it.

"This is like an Army backrub," Ricky said.  "My older brother told me that
the Army nurses always included the buttocks in their backrubs."

"It tickles," Bobby said.  "Do it some more."

Ricky leaned over and ran his tongue over those two sensuous orbs, knowing
that Bobby would think it was his fingers.


Over the next two weeks, the fittings for Bobby's new prosthesis went well.
He wanted Ricky to be by his side as he tested it out.  The time went fast,
and Ricky was due to return to work.  Bobby insisted he would be fine
alone.

One afternoon, Carla went into Bobby's room while he was reading.

"Well, you've certainly made yourself at home," Carla said without a smile.
"How long do you plan on being here?"

"I don't know."  The question startled Bobby.  He'd actually given little
thought to it.  He rather assumed without thinking that he'd be staying
with Ricky for the rest of his life.  What else could he do?  He'd be
alone.  To ever be parted from Ricky was almost unthinkable.

Carla leaned against the door jam.  "You know, don't you, that I'm his
girlfriend.  I'm not just his maid.  But I haven't seen much of him.  This
was supposed to be his vacation.  What the hell do you do when he's in here
with you all the time with the door closed?"

"He helps me a lot.  And . . . and we talk."

"You talk.  He never talks to me, much less showing any interest anymore in
giving me a good fuck once in a while.  Most of the time, he's in here `til
after midnight."

"I'm sorry."

Carla ambled in and stood over Bobby.  She looked at him with her lips
curled into a sneer.  "Does he sleep with you?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"If I were you, I'd make plans to get out of here.  I can't take much more
of this."  Carla walked out and slammed the door.

Bobby could feel his whole body shaking.  If he were able, he'd get out at
that very moment.  He was grateful for Ricky, but was unaware that he'd
been such a burden.

When Ricky returned home, he went directly to Bobby's room.  "Hey, my boy.
Did you miss me?"

"Yes."  Bobby, still in his wheelchair, stared at the floor and put his
hands over his face.

"What's the matter?  Don't you feel well?"

"Bobby looked up.  "I think I'd better find someplace else to live.  I
don't think this is working out."

"What are you talking about?"  Ricky knelt on the floor before him and took
the boy's hands in his.

"I didn't realize I was so much trouble.  Your girlfriend came in and told
me I should get out."

"What?"

"She told me she doesn't like you spending so much time with me."

"I'll be right back, Bobby."

Ricky stormed out of the room and found Carla lighting a cigarette and
watching "Rappers World" on TV.  He pulled the plug and stood before her.

"Now you've done it.  I knew it would come to this.  No one is leaving my
apartment but you, Carla.  Gather up your stuff and get out."

"You can't just . . . ."

"I can do anything I please.  I'll give you thirty minutes to pack up your
clothes and be out that door."

Carla stood up with her hands on her hips.  She put a coy look on her face
and, with a silent chuckle, said, "What are you so worked up about?"

"Don't play innocent with me.  You've now got twenty-nine minutes."

"Listen, lover boy.  You don't know what it's been like for me since that
cripple came into our house."

"My house.  Now get out.  The clock is ticking."

"I never thought the time would come with you when I had to resort to
diddling my own cunt to get off.  Don't you ever think about my feelings?
You've gotten tired of me.  That's it, isn't it?  You've found someone
else's cimt to fuck, haven't you?  Or are you fucking someone's asshole
now?"

"Twenty-eight minutes."

"All right.  I have one thing to say to you.  Since you've abandoned me in
my bed, don't for a moment think I don't know you've been sleeping with
that cripple.  You're a fag.  You're a fairy.  I should have known better."

"Get out."

As Carla hurried to her bedroom, Ricky rushed back to Bobby's room.
"She'll be gone in a few minutes.  And good riddance."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said.  "I didn't mean for this to happen.  It's my
fault."

"No, it was my fault for leaving you alone with that bitch."

"Ricky, I could hear you talking.  Why did she accuse you of sleeping with
me.  It's not true.  Why didn't you tell her it wasn't true?"

"I don't know."

Ricky sat on the bed and reached over for Bobby's hand.  Of course it
wasn't true, he thought.  But he had to admit to himself it was something
he had been wanting to do lately.  He'd begun to crave having the boy's
naked body pressed against his and wrapped in his arms.  Oh, God, how he
wanted it.  How could it be that he'd lusted so after Carla and reveled in
the sex they'd had, but now hated her and wanted only Bobby?  How could
such a change come over a man?  He looked into Bobby's sweet frightened
face and knew why the change in his desires happened.

"No, I don't know why I didn't deny it.  But it would have been like
denying what I feel and long for."  He suddenly regretted revealing that
thought.

But Bobby understood and smiled.  Very quietly, he whispered, "I love you,
Ricky.  I feel kind of funny, though."

"Funny?"

"Not funny."  Bobby shook his head and tightened his hand on Ricky's.  "I
mean I'm a little excited.  It's just you and me now, Ricky.  No more
nurses and doctors coming in the room.  No more . . ."

They heard the front slam.

"And no more Carla."

"Yeah, no more Carla.  Just you and me."


That night, at bath time, Ricky ran the sponge over Bobby's body.  Somehow,
his desire for Bobby had all become too much for him to bear, and his eyes
became brimmed with tears.  He had to stop and wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

"Don't cry, Ricky.  What's the matter?"

"Don't you know what's the matter, Bobby?  When you told me you loved me a
few minutes ago, everything started to come loose inside of me.  And it all
came out in these damned tears.  I love you, too, my dear Bobby.  More than
I've ever loved anyone in my life.  I wanted to tell you that I'd fallen
deeply in love with you, but I was afraid you wouldn't understand."

With tears also forming in Bobby's eyes, he reached out his hand.  "Lie
down here with me, Ricky.  Please."

Ricky looked at Bobby's beautiful naked body and tore off his clothes.  He
let them drop to the floor.  He lay close to the boy and wrapped his arms
around him.  They smiled at each other, their teary eyes glistening in the
waning twilight from the window.  They kissed deeply with no hesitation and
no shame.

They heard the front slam and knew they were at last alone with each other.

Ricky ran his hand down over Bobby's stomach and through his large bush of
dark pubic hair.  "You're hard, Bobby," he whispered.

"And you are, too," Bobby said as he reached between Ricky's legs.

Ricky wrapped his hand around Bobby's stiff penis and began to stroke it.

They didn't speak for a long time as they ran their hands over each other's
penis and balls.

Finally, Ricky broke the silence.  "It must have been a long time since
you've jerked off and had a good orgasm.  Probably way before the
accident."

"Not really.  I jerked off in the hospital a lot of times while you were
sleeping in your chair."

"I wish I'd known.  Were you thinking about Lisa?"

"Of course not.  I did it while I watched you sleeping, wishing that you
were lying with me.  God, how I wanted you lying in bed with me."

"You thought about me?"

"Who else?"  Bobby ran his fingers lightly over Ricky's eyes, his tanned
cheeks, and then over his full lips.  "You were, and still are, a dream
come true, Ricky.  I knew I loved you after the first time I woke and you
spent the night taking care of me.  No one has ever been so kind and loving
to me as you've been.  I tried to convince myself over and over that you
could never love me.  A one-legged cripple.  I can't tell you how many
tears I shed when I found out you had a girlfriend.  There were times I
didn't think about my leg or Lisa or anything.  Just you.  I was so afraid
you'd leave my room and I'd never see you again."

Ricky nestled his head in the crook of Bobby's neck.  "That never would
have happened.  I was afraid, too, that when you recovered, you'd suddenly
be out of my life forever."

Bobby and Ricky fell silent and caressed each other's body with their hands
and lips and tongues for many minutes.

Ricky soon spoke.  "I've never been with a man before.  Not like this.
I've bathed a lot of male patients, but I never had any interest in being
close to them like I am with you right now.  I was always anxious to get
home and fly into the sack with Carla.  But now I don't know why.  I don't
know why I thought I loved her.  You know, Bobby, I know now that I've
never really loved anyone until you came into my life."

"I feel the same way," Bobby whispered.  "It's true.  I don't know what it
was that made me want to be with Lisa.  But I know now that it wasn't love.
Not like what I feel right at this moment.  I was pretty popular in school,
and she let everyone know that she was the one who had me for herself.  It
wasn't really me.  It was the fact that I was a star baseball player, and I
was hers.  So when I lost my leg, I guess I was no more use to her.  No one
would be jealous of a girl who went out with a one-legged man.  Even though
the sex was terrific with her, I'm glad, Ricky, she's out of my life now."

Ricky rolled his body closer to Bobby.  "I agree, the sex was good with
Carla.  She gave me blow jobs like no one before her had ever given me.  I
wondered sometimes what she got out of it . . . other than a load of cum in
her mouth.  She said she loved the taste of it."

"Lisa loved to suck on my penis, too.  She gave me even better orgasms than
when I jerked off."

Ricky rose up on his elbows and looked down at Bobby.  "Have you ever
tasted your own cum?"

"Oh, sure.  Lots of times.  It doesn't taste bad.  How about you?"

"I've tasted it a few times, and I like it.  I can see why the girls liked
it."

Bobby reached down and took hold of Ricky's turgid penis and looked at it.
"Ricky?  Do you think we could try it?  I mean try what they did to us?"

"You're talking about sucking each other's penis?  Why not?  I want to do
it so I can see what your cum tastes like.  I have this strange feeling
that I need to taste what comes from your body.  But first, tell me.  Have
you ever had a man's penis in your mouth?"

"No, but I really want to taste yours."

Ricky and Bobby quickly rolled into a 69 position and very slowly wrapped
their lips over each other's penis head as they cupped each other's balls.
Almost in a flash they had the full length of each other's hard cocks deep
into their mouths.  They had seen and felt their girlfriends do it, and
they knew well the technique of using the tongue and lips to bring each
other to orgasm.

As they sucked hard and deep, they ran their hands lightly over the soft
hair on each other's legs, adding to the great eroticism they were feeling.
It was so much better, Ricky thought, than the awful razor stubble that
covered Carla's legs.

When Bobby began to groan, it caused Rickey to come to orgasm.  At
virtually the same time, their gorged penises began to throb violently and
slap the roofs of their mouths as their warm, thick cum poured into each
other.  They each held the other's smooth cream in his mouth and let it run
slowly down their throats.

When they pulled off, they ran their tongues over and around their still
rigid penises, reveling in the first time they could taste and feel the
contours and ridges of each other's penis.

Soon, they turned around, face to face, and kissed each other madly.  They
talked about the experience and realized how easily they might never have
known such pleasure and love if it hadn't been for their meeting in the
hospital.

Exhausted, they soon fell asleep in each other's arms.  At about four a.m.,
Ricky woke up.  The street light outside the window cast an almost heavenly
glow on Bobby's sleeping face.  That same sweet sleeping face Ricky had
wanted to kiss so many times in the hospital.  He leaned over and kissed
the boy gently on the lips and eyes.  Then he looked over the full length
of Bobby's beautiful young body.  He scooted down and kissed the thigh of
the leg that had been partially amputated.  He ran his tongue over the soft
fleshy part of his upper inner thigh, and then over the healed end of the
stump.  There was not an inch on Bobby's body that he did not love
passionately.


Ricky was off to work at 6:00 a.m., and left a loving note for the sleeping
boy that he would be home by five that afternoon.  But he would call him
during the day.

That evening, Bobby revealed that Mr. Packard had been by to talk about his
and his mother's house.  After the accident, he had the house sealed
completely.  But it was now time to go through the home and dispose of
those contents that Bobby didn't want to keep.

Bobby sat on the sofa, cuddled in Ricky's arms.  "I want you to come with
me and Mr. Packard when we go through the house next week."

"I'll be right with you every minute, Bobby.  I know it's going to be very
hard for you when you see it again . . . now that . . . you know . . . your
mother won't be there."

"There are a few of my mother's things I want to keep and a few of my own.
Not much.  I don't want to clutter up your apartment."

"It's our apartment, Bobby."

Bobby looked up into Ricky's face.  "I don't want to be anywhere else.  If
you move, I want to go with you."  He lowered his head as tears began
running down his cheeks.  "I'm so afraid you might leave me behind, and I
won't know what to do.  I want to be with you forever."

"Forever it is, my dear sweet boy.  We'll never be apart.  Have you thought
of starting college in another year right here in San Antonio, rather than
going to Austin?  But if you do go to Austin, I'll move there with you and
we'll live together.  We'll never, ever be apart."

They ate supper very quickly and were eager to get to bed early.  They lay
once again with their naked bodies wrapped in each other's arms.

"You know something?" Ricky said.  "Carla liked to get fucked in the ass.
She once told me it was too bad I didn't know how good it felt to have a
cock up my ass.  How about you and Lisa?"

"Lisa wanted me to do it once because her friend and her boyfriend did it
all the time and loved it.  So I did it, and it really felt good because
her asshole was so much tighter than her pussy."

"It felt good for me, too, to have a really tight hole to fuck.  But she
kept saying how good it felt to get fucked in the ass.  I wonder if that's
really true."

"Yeah, I wonder."

Ricky reached around and ran his finger over Bobby's asshole.  "Well, I
guess there's only one way to find out."

"Sure is.  There's only one way to find out."


Author's Note: I welcome comments, good or bad, from readers about this
story.  If the response is positive, I will continue the story of Ricky and
Bobby.  If not, it will remain a one-installment piece.  I happily respond
to all e-mails.

Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com