Date: Thu, 29 Oct 2009 16:56:18 +0000
From: Steve Thomas <stevethomas535@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kyle's Out-Coming, ch. 4

This is based on the author's feelings, beliefs, and in some cases
experience but it is a work of pure fiction. Come to think of it, it may
not always be that pure! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times
between men, so if this offends you or you are otherwise not allowed by
law, etc., you are invited to retreat. Otherwise ... enjoy!



Cast of characters:



Kyle Tragg -- That's me!

Kevin -- My older brother.

Ron -- my dad

Chrissy -- my mom

Mike Newberry -- new best friend

Bob -- Old best friend

Jorge - New friend



 From Chapter 3:

Jorge said, "Look Kyle -- I really don't think that we should do anything
more -- tonight -- but - "

"I know ... you're right." I said. "But ... can I stay?"

"You mean all night?"

"Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure I could sleep." He said.

"Wanna try it?" I taunted.

"¡Sí! ¡Oh, mi hijo... Sí!"

Chapter 4

I called my dad and told him I was staying with Jorge.

"Who's Jorge?" Dad said groggily.

"A new friend I met. I think you'll really like him!"

"Be careful, Kyle! Thanks for calling us. Night."

"How long have you lived by yourself, Jorge?"

"Too long! I wasn't married in the first place until I was 28. Don't ask!
Chalk it up to Mexican tradition! She was 18! Check that! It's a stupid
Mexican tradition!"

"I'd hate that! I don't like being alone that much!" I said.

"You think I like it?"

"Why don't you get a room mate?"

"I wonder how many guys -- who aren't gay -- would want a gay Mexican
roomie!?"

"So ... you haven't even tried. You have that other bedroom. Um - why
wouldn't you want someone gay?"

"I dunno ... maybe I just don't want the drama."

"The drama?"

"Never mind ... Are you sure you want to stay all night?"

"Don't you want me to?"

"I guess ... it's just ... I've just never done anything like this before.

"Jorge, I have to tell you -- this is a first for me too." I said.

"You've never stayed the night with another guy?" He asked.

"Ohhh -- yeah! That I have! But never with a guy I just met ... in a bar!
Can I tell you something?" He nodded. "I just feel like I can trust
you. And I hope you feel the same. We don't have to do anything if you
don't want to. I'd be happy to just hold you and ... he held BY you. It
seems to be something that I am ... craving at the moment."

"What -- erm -- what did you do with the other guy you stayed over with?
Geez, you must think I'm really a dweeb. I never even did this as a boy!"

"Well, in the first place ... it wasn't only one guy. I have two especially
that I have had lots of ... well, SOME experience with -- best friends,
like. But they aren't gay ... or at least they don't admit to it. And
neither of them likes to kiss. Actually one did, but it was in the heat of
passion and he was ... I guess overruled by his gonads!"

"What did you do with them? You said you once were with both of them ... I
think ... earlier, didn't you?"

"Look, Jorge, what we did might not have any relevance to what you and I
want to do. But ... lots of guys start out just having a mutual wank."

"A what?"

"A lot of guys ... after puberty seems to tell them that sex play with
other boys isn't okay ... still seem to be able to get comfortable wanking
... er -- masturbating -- with each other. I know even straight guys do
that."

"I wanted to do that, but even that was not okay in Guadalajara ... if you
wanted to be considered straight."

"Well, anyway, we can do whatever you are okay with. Sometimes my best
friend and I just cuddle."

"You're friend is straight and likes to cuddle? Have you asked him why
that's okay with him?"

"I don't think he wants to think about it. It feels good and that's good
enough ... I guess. It's good enough for me!" I said.

"You -- um -- sound kind of -- disappointed or something. You wish he
wanted to do more, don't you?"

"I -- um -- well -- yeah! He's my best friend! Wouldn't you?"

"This is all so new to me! I've only kissed a few guys -- that's all. What
are we supposed to do ... next?"

"We could start by taking these off." I said, pulling on his pants at his
belt.

"Oh! Okay." He said, and started to unbuckle his belt.

"Wait!" I said.

"What? Did I do it wrong already?" He giggled.

I'm getting to like that giggle!

"I want to do that!" I said. "I've never done it. Let me undress you
... and you can undress me. Okay?"

"Whew! Hee hee! I just got a shiver go through me!" He said.

I reached out and unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned his pants and
unzipped them ... very slowly. In the semi-dark, I could see his was
getting excited already, and was careful not to catch anything important in
the zipper. It was definitely protruding extensively.

I slipped his pants down his legs and off him altogether. I didn't notice
until I finished that I was holding my breath. I let it out hard.

"Haha! I believe you ... that that was your first time doing that! Did you
like it?" He asked.



"Did I like it?!" I exclaimed. Uhmmm ... your turn!"

He did the same to me. I closed my eyes as he took my jeans off. As he slid
them down, my boxers came slightly off my hips. He pulled them back up for
me. "Jorge -- take those off too?" I said.

Jorge gingerly slipped his fingers inside the front of my underwear and
pulled them over the top of the engorged head of my dick. He closed his
eyes and pulled them the rest of the way off me. He giggled again and
repeated what I just said to him: "Uhmmm ... your turn!"

He lay back on the sheet and again closed his eyes as I eased his
tighty-whities past his own ... by now ... throbbing meat. Only ... I
didn't close my eyes. It was about average size ... definitely smaller than
mine, but it looked larger at first because of the long foreskin still
covering all of it. A shiver went through me -- a thrill really! I wanted
to touch it ... play with it. But I waited.

With both of us naked, I climbed back on top of him and our entire bodies
made contact. I could feel his bone flexing as much as mine was. I felt
stuff oozing out the end of mine, and guessed his was doing the same
... only inside his foreskin.

"Jorge -- open your eyes."

He did and looked directly into mine. I lowered my head and mouth onto his
and we kissed as we never had yet. His arms came up over my shoulders and
he moaned as our tongues delicately made love to each other.

"What's next, Mi hijo?

"You keep calling me that." I said. "I know what it means."

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

"Don't be! I love it when you call me your child. It feels good ... it
feels right! Um -- how old are you, anyway?"

"I'm not sure you want to know!"

"I don't really care. I know I like you and I like what we're doing." I
said, as a way to tell him it didn't matter ... that he didn't have to tell
me. Apparently he didn't take it the way I meant it.

"I'm 42."

"No shit?!" I exclaimed. "You really ARE old enough to be my dad!"

"I didn't think you'd like it much!" He said, defeated.

"Oh ... no! That's not true at all! I DO like it! I like it a lot!" I said
and hugged him closely.

"Oh, mi hijo, what am I doing? What am I doing here ... with a boy!?? What
am I doing to ... you?"

"I'm not a boy. I'm old enough to decide what I want. And right now ... I
want you!"

"And how old are you? 18?"

"Almost 19! Jorge, I want to call you something ... else ... too."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You keep calling me your child."

"I didn't mean to ... it just comes out!"

"But I like it! It really does feel right! But can I call you ... Papi?"

"Well, if you have to ask ... "

"Papi it is! For tonight ... Tu eres mi papi!"

"Oh mi hijo, hijo, hijo!" He said over and over, hugging me close.

"Jorge ... Papi... can I jack you off now?"

He hyperventilated for a moment, then said, "Sí."

I climbed off him and he again closed his eyes. I gently wrapped my hand
around his uncut manhood and started to slowly stroke up and down. I had
heard how sensitive uncut guys can be, so I didn't touch the head. I just
slipped the skin up and down. It wasn't more than a few moments before I
knew he was ready to blow. As he went over the edge, I kissed his lips. He
moaned high pitch and breathed in copious amounts of my breath as he kissed
me back. I backed off and let him breath. He moaned loudly over and over as
his spunk ran down over my hand and onto his tummy and into his pubes.

He lay next to me almost comatose for long moments before he spoke. Finally
he looked over to me and started to speak, but all that came put of him was
a moan. Tears poured down. "She -- she -- AHEM! "My -- my -- wife -- she
never made me feel like that! Even having sex with her didn't feel like
that!"

I thought, "Boy, you're in for a great surprise, if that's the best you've
ever done!"

Again he misread my thoughts: "Oh -- Mi hijo!" He cried. "You have not --
you have not - " He started to roll over. I pushed him back down.

"No hurry, Papi! We have all night! Relax."

"But you ... you need - "

"I'm fine. If that was the best you've ever had, you deserve to just lie
there and enjoy it for awhile! No worries, Babe! I'll get my turn. And
... I have a feeling that I will also have the best experience I ever had."

I was well aware that it was sexual height that made Mike kiss me like he
did, but I also hoped -- at the time -- that maybe it had something to do
with me. When I got "my turn" later, I was sure I would feel that way about
this sweet man ... this man who six hours ago I never knew or heard of!

As I was thus involved, thinking about Mike and ... Jorge ... and ... such,
I looked and he was sound asleep. I touched him and he jerked, but didn't
wake up. I gently put my hand on his abdomen ... which was gooey wet with
his spunk. I slowly spread it across his tummy and also rubbed the wet from
his pubes, up and onto his tummy until it was dry. He snorted softly
several times, softly giggling in his sleep.

I lay beside him and then pulled him to me, in spoon position, and I fell
asleep, never feeling like I missed out on anything. Rather ... I felt
almost like I had witnessed a miracle.

I woke up when the sunlight hit my eyes. I started awake, before
remembering where I was. He wasn't in the bed with me. I lay there for a
moment feeling warm and full. I wondered if it was even possible to be in
love this quickly. I certainly never felt this way about Mike ... or Bob. I
felt like I loved them both ... especially Mike -- but it felt so right
getting it back - feeling like Jorge loved me too. That's what I saw in his
eyes before he fell asleep -- love.

"Papi?" I said. "PAPI? Jorge!?" I hollered.

I jumped out of bed and stepped to the other room. The curtains were pulled
and there was a note on the kitchen table.

"Dear Kyle,

There is cereal and milk in the cupboard and refrigerator, if you're
hungry. I had to go to work. Thank you for what you did for me last
night. You were sleeping so peacefully, I could not bear to awaken you.

I feel badly that I got so carried away last night. What we did ... was not
right. You are a mere boy. I cannot justify what I let you do for me. I
feel like I should pay you something, but I know that would not be okay
with you. Please accept my apology and ... my thanks ... for being such a
sweet and tender boy and teacher for me.

I don't think that we should see each other again. It makes me feel
perverted to have soiled a sweet child such as you. I cannot justify it in
my mind. Please ... don't try to contact me again. I can't do this."

Before he signed it, there was a word ... a four-letter word ... that was
crossed out so much it was impossible to see what it said. But I thought I
knew. I knew what I wanted it to be.

I added under his note:

"Dear Papi,

Please call me! Our ages don't matter to me! You are exactly what I need. I
didn't know that until last night. Please don't end it like this. You are
right ... you could not buy what we had last night! I would require more
than you could afford. I don't want anything ... except you. I want to give
us a try. Please call me. PLEASE!"

Love, Su Hijo, Kye"

I left my phone number under my name and looked for a phone in the
apartment -- to get his number. There was none. He must only use his cell
phone.

I walked out feeling forlorn and depressed ... unless they mean the same
thing. I never had a girl friend who made me feel like this. I never had
anyone I felt like this about ... before Jorge. 12 hours ago I didn't know
him. Now I felt crushed from losing him. I even knew the ridiculousness of
it all. But that didn't take away the hurt!

I pressed redial on my phone.

"Hi Bud!" Said Mike, happily.

"Omigosh you sound good!"

"I do? Well, I wish I could say the same for you. What's wrong, Kye?"

"I'm over at ... " I started and choked up. "Damn!" I finally said. "This
is stupid -- just really stupid."

"What's going on, Kyle? Are you okay?"

"<<SIGH!!>> Yeah. I guess I am! Or I should be! I fell like an idiot!"

"Yeah, and you have told me exactly nada! Que Paso?"

"Dammit! Speak English!" I cried.

"Wow! What's up, Buddy -- you're really upset. Things didn't go well with
your new friend last night?"

"Can I just come over and talk to you?"

"I'm at my dad's -- in Pico Rivera. But -- yeah. Dad would love to see you
again. As a matter of fact we were just talking about you. I was telling
him how much I want you to learn to hit a golf ball. C'mon over!" He
said. "Um ... are you okay to drive?"

"<<SIGH!!>> Yeah. I can drive."

He told me how to get to the hotel his dad was staying in.

Leaving Jorge's apartment and driving gave me somewhat of a better
focus. By the time I got to Mike's dad's hotel, I felt silly and
stupid. How could I have felt so emotional over a guy I knew less than 12
hours? Damn! What was I gonna tell Mike? What an idiot Iwas!

"Hey Kye!" Said Mike.

"Hi. Hello Mr. Newberry."

"Please! You make me feel like an old man! Call me Tommy!" Said Mike's dad.

"Thanks. Nice place!" I said lamely, immediately remembering it was only a
hotel room.

"Yeah. And room service is great. Dunno how many months I could afford it
though. Know anyone with a small house or apartment for rent?"

"Maybe we can go looking for one this afternoon, Dad!" Said Mike. "Hey!
Maybe we can get one together!"

"Mike -- that would break your mother's heart!"

"I gotta move out sometime!"

"Moving in with your dad isn't exactly moving out! No -- I wouldn't think
of taking you away from your mother this soon. It's gonna be hard enough
with me gone."

"But I thought that you and Mom - "

"We're still friends. We have been only friends ... to long. It was
time. But I know she misses me in some ways. And I know because -- I feel
that way too. The last few nights have been hell. Just having you here last
night was a lot easier."

"You see, Dad?! You do need me!"

"Michael! No! Your mom needs you."

"And it could cramp the style of a newly single man to have his son living
with him!" I mused to myself.

"So ... Kyle! Mike tells me you want to learn how to hit a golf ball."

"I dunno about that. I'm a real klutz when it comes to golf."

"Kye~!" Whined Mike. "I WANT you to learn!"

"Maybe instead of looking for a place this afternoon, we can go golfing!"
said Tommy.

"Kewl!" Said Mike.

"I can look for my own place by myself."

"Oh!" I said. "Um -- are you at all interested in a room mate?"

"I -- er -- why? Are YOU looking for a place too?" Said Tommy.

"No -- but I might know someone who is."

"Another young guy like yourself?"

"No ... haha ... another old guy like YOU!"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Maybe not as old as this guy. He's 42."

"Ew! He IS older!"

"Huh?" I said. I thought, Jorge couldn't be THAT much older than Mike's
dad! Mike's 19.

"Dad's 33."

My mouth dropped open. "No shit?" I exclaimed. Oh -- sorry Mr. -- um --
Tommy -- I just - "

"It's okay. I was only 15 when Michael was conceived."

"Mom was 16! Robbed the cradle!" Laughed Mike.

"Lots of abortions going on at that time, but we just couldn't handle
killing our baby. Our parents wanted us to give Mike up for adoption, but
we didn't want that either. Whether it was right or wrong ... I quit school
and got a job. Both our parents had to sign off on us getting married. We
haven't told them yet about our split. I know they'll be disappointed."
Said Tommy with a far away look in his eyes.

"You stayed together 19 years, Dad! And I don't think I'm too screwed
up. You must have done a few things right." Said Mike. "What are you gonna
do now?"

"I'm actually thinking about going back to being a pro at a golf course. I
did that for a short time, but it wasn't enough to support the family. Then
Mary became a nurse. She makes enough that ... heh ... I could actually get
spousal support. But I wouldn't! Trouble is ... being a starter golf pro
hardly would let me even have a place of my own! Dang! I GOTTA get out of
this hotel!" He said. This guy you know -- is he looking for a roomie?"

"I'm not sure. And ... there's something else." I said.

"What?"

"Um ... he's ... um ... Mexican."

"Oh! Well, that doesn't matter ... unless ... do you know if he's legal?"

"Oh! I just assumed ... really don't know. I'm not even sure he would want
a roommate. Uhhhmm -- there is one other thing ... "

"I suppose the next thing you're gonna tell me is ... he's gay!"

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-uh!" Said Mike.

"Actually he is." I said ... disappointed if it would make any difference.

"You know what?" Said Tommy. "I don't care! What difference does it make if
he's gay. I mean it's not like he'll be hitting on me!"

No -- I think he likes guys a little younger! I thought.

"Well, anyway, I'll be looking tomorrow, so maybe you could see what he is
looking for ... if he wants a room mate. Maybe just for awhile?"

"I'll drop over to his place and ask him."

"Great!" Said Tommy.

"Now -- shall we go to the golf course?"

"Can we -- I mean -- could I buy us some breakfast on the way?" I offered.

"We've already eaten. I have some cereal and milk here. Do you want - "

"Naw -- I'll just grab a Breakfast Jack on the way to golfing."

"Um -- we won't exactly be golfing." Said Tommy. "Green fees anywhere
nearby are pretty expensive. But -- it won't cost all that much for a
couple buckets of balls to drive at Ironwood over in Cerritos." At Mike's
disappointed look, he added, "He can't really play until he learns to hit
the ball. There's also a little putting green next to the driving range."

At the golf course ... it was a small 9-hole course ... Tommy let me
purchase a bucket of balls. We went to the driving range, close to the club
house. He told me how to stand, and how to grip the club. We only had three
clubs -- an iron, a wood and a putter. "You can learn how to use the
chipping iron later. Mike can actually teach you how to use that."

I just couldn't get the stance right. "Damn!" said Tommy, after several
attempts at getting me standing just right. At my hurt look, he said,
"Sorry! Fine pro I'm turning out to be! Sorry! I guess I've had a little
too much stress lately. But ... a good pro can't let that affect his job.

"Okay now ... grip he club like I told you -- for a driver. (Wood) That's
almost right." He adjusted my fingers. A shiver went through me when he
touched me. Then he did exactly what I was worried he might do -- as Mike
had done a few weeks back. He surrounded me from the back and put his hands
on my arms. I made the mistake of looking up for a moment. He got even
closer -- basically spooning me -- and said, "Now -- look at the range --
look at the 100 yard marker."

I raised me head. "No -- keep your head down." He said, never letting my
body go. "Now, without raising your head, turn it to look down the range."

I did as he told me which brought my cheek into direct contact with his
stubble from yesterday. Another shiver.

"Now I'm going to step away. Don't change your position. Now, just as you
twisted your head to the left -- twist your body to the right without
raising up at all. Thaaaat's about right. Hold that pose!"

HE came back to me and said, Keep your body exactly like that and just
... slowly ... look down the range again."

As I twisted my neck even further to the left, my body wanted to straighten
out. He stepped up to me quickly and practically rammed his body into
mine. "Hold steady, Ryan!" He whispered. Then he backed away again. "Now
swing the club, and be sure to follow through 360 degrees."

I missed the ball altogether. "Wonderful! We'll worry about hitting the
ball later. But your form was ... good -- well -- okay -- for your first
lesson! Practice that a few times until you hit the ball. Don't worry if
you don't. I want you to feel what the correct form feels like."

I carefully repeated as much as I could remember as he coached me ("head
down!"). When I swung this time, the ball went flying -- about 10 feet!
"Shit!" I said.

"Don't worry about it. I gotta go pee. Mike, keep him practicing that form
while I'm gone."

As soon as his dad was out of earshot, Mike said, "Was this guy with the
apartment ... last night ... the same guy you want to fix my dad up with
... to room with?"

"Um -- yeah -- is that okay?"

"What went wrong? This morning you sounded -- um -- you were pretty upset."

"It was stupid. Just me being immature!" I said, turning around.

"Head down! Your form! Keep practicing it. Don't let idle talk distract
you!"

I turned back and bent over and took another swing. 15 feet --
maybe. "Lower your stand a little. This is important Kye! You don't stretch
out your arms to readjust. You lower your stance a little to grab that
piece of the ball you want. I bent my legs more. "No! Widen!" he said,
putting his hands between my thighs and bearing outward on them.

"Mike! You're turning me on!" I giggled.

"Aw c'mon, Kye! Focus a little here. Did my dad turn you on too?"

First of all ... it hurt to have him yell and be sarcastic to me ...

Secondly, was I supposed to actually answer that question?!

I spread my legs slightly and swung again. Contact! The ball went at least
30 yards!

"Beautiful!" Said Tommy, returning. "Did it feel as good as it looked?"

"It DID feel good!" I said.

"Yeah -- when it's right ... you can actually feel it!" He said. "Hit the
rest of the balls as exactly like you just did as possible."

As we left the course, he said. "Don't let my son talk you into any games
until you have practiced on a bucket of balls every night for a week! Next
weekend we all will come here and do all nine holes."

"Thanks a lot, Mr. ... er ... Tommy!" I smiled.

It was late, Saturday afternoon. I somehow found myself driving down Clark
Street and past his apartment. I turned and drove slowly past again,
straining to see if I could see a light on in it. It WAS lit! It was dark
when we came in last night. I Backed up and drove into the parking
lot. From there, I could see him moving around inside. I felt sick to my
stomach.

I stiffened my gut and opened the car door. I put my left foot out and on
the ground. A pain shot up my back. I put the other leg and foot out and
stood up. My stomach cramped almost violently. I moaned and forced my legs
into motion.

"Kyle!" Said Jorge, after what seemed like an hour waiting after
knocking. He looked all at once pleased and concerned. "You're ... um
... back!"

"I ... um ... left something here, I think." I said. As soon as it came
out, I felt foolish and like my temperature shot up about 15 degrees!

"You did? I didn't see anything."

"It probably is hard to see." I replied, looking inside as much as I could
from the front step. "I think I left my heart in here!"

His confused frown turned to a repentant smile. "I know. That was
cowardly!"

"What?" I said, immediately defensive. "I didn't - "

"No mi hijo." He closed his eyes, and I knew why. It had just slipped out
without thinking. "It was I who was the cobarde ... coward! I shouldn't
have left you with a note. I was going to call you as soon as I got home
and I just -- was ... atemorizado ... ermm -- afraid!"

"Yeah," I laughed, "I know I'm a pretty scary guy!"

That seemed to put him more at ease. He giggled and I knew it was a little
better. "Can I come in?"

"Lamento mucho! ¡Entre, por favor, entre!" He said and stepped aside. I
stepped past him.

"I came over here to see if you were interested in a room mate."

"What? You want to - "

"Not me -- my best friend's dad. Only for a short time ... unless it works
out."

"Does he know I'm gay?"

I didn't know the right answer. Was it okay to out him? I looked down at
the floor and answered, "Yes."

"What kind of a man is he?"

"He's very nice. He's 32 and - "

"Wait a minute ... your best friends father is only 32?" He said and licked
his lips.

"He doesn't care if your gay -- but he's not."

"As far as you know."

"He was more concerned that you are legal."

"Didn't you tell him I'm 42?"

"I meant legally here -- from Mexico."

He looked at the ceiling and whispered, "¡Madre de Dios!" He looked at
me. "Sorry. It just gets old, that's all."

"I'm sorry, Jorge! I shouldn't have even - "

"No -- not you! ¡Esos joder a inmigrantes ilegales!"

"What?" I asked. "My Spanish isn't that good."

"I get so much flack because of all the illegal aliens over here! I am
legal, I assure you! I worked hard to get that status. It's the fucking
indios ignorantes! They make it bad for all of us!"

"You -- you don't even look Mexican!" I said.

"I don't know if I should say thank you or fuck you! No -- I am not like
them! My family came from Spain and there is no native blood. And in Spain,
we came from Russia. My grandfather escaped Russia in 1930, because he was
a Jew. You think that Hitler was the only one who slaughtered the Jews? The
Communists killed more than 150,000 ... civilians! But you don't hear about
that because they were killing everyone!

Um ... this guy -- your friends father -- what do you think of him?"

"Oh, I like ... I mean -- he really is a ... I mean - "

Jorge stepped back a pace. "Wow! You like him! I mean -- you really like
him! Is he hot? Am I going to have to be careful? Would he ... get violento
... violent?"

"I -- um -- don't know him that well. He -- um -- seems nice."

"Why does he need a place immediately?"

"He doesn't want to sleep in his car."

"Is THAT what he's doing?"

"No. He is in a hotel, but it's very expensive."

"Sigh! Can you bring him by ... tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, before he has to pay for another night at the - "

"It's probably too late for that. Check-in is usually before noon."

"Oh -- Sí."

"Let me call Mike."

"Hey!" Said Mike.

"Are you still with your dad?"

"Uh-huh. Why?"

"I'm at Jorge's. He wants to -- um -- interview -- your dad. He says maybe
he can move in immediately ... at least temporarily."

"I'll call you back!"

"He'll call back." I said to Jorge.

"Good. Now -- about last night, - "

"Yeah -- about this morning!" I said.

"I -- I -- I'm sorry. Lo siento mucho, mi hijo! That was wrong!"

"Damned right it was." I said gruffly, then smiled. "But you might be able
to figure a way to make it right." I saw a range of emotions in his eyes.

"But -- mi hijo -- what we did last night was ... maybe too much."

"You really think what we did was - "

"Mi hijo -- your only 19!"

"Not even 19 yet! But who cares? I don't!"

"I do."

"You do what?"

"I care. In my country you're still only a boy!"

"Dammit, Jorge! THIS is your country! And here ... I am a man! And
besides. It's not like we have to commit our lives to each other! Can't we
just have some fun?"

"It didn't feel like fun last night. It felt more like ... for life!" He
said, seeming to search my face for a reason to break his resolve.

"Papi -- I just want to be wanted and ... to want someone to want me to
feel the same. Just for now!"

I know. It was calculated ... I saw his resolve crumbling when I called him
that!

"Maybe like your friend's padre -- just for tonight -- and let mañana take
care of itself."

"Can you do that?" I said. "¿Es posible?"

"Sí, mi hijo, sí." He said, almost reluctantly. He sighed. I guess I wore
him down. Or ... he LET me wear him down. Whatever it was, I wanted it
... I could almost taste it!

Notes: Thanks for all your wonderful comments. They are always welcome --
to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com Love, Steve