Date: Sun, 27 Jun 2010 15:28:12 -0700 (PDT)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: The O'Henry Factor   Short Story

So guys it's like this.  I know you have heard this story a million times,
but so what?  It happens a lot, and it's true, and it happened to me.

My father is a Presbyterian minister in Toledo, Ohio where I grew up.  I
heard him speaking disdainfully about `those people' before I even knew
that there were other people in the world besides Presbyterians.  As I grew
older, and began to realize that the world was more diverse than I could
ever have imagined, I put more thought into wondering who `those people'
were.

At first I thought Dad might be referring to black people.  We hadn't
started using the nomenclature `African-American' at that time yet.  I put
that possibility totally out of my mind, and off my `those people' list,
when I realized that we had more than a dozen black families in our
congregation.  Dad could not possibly speak ill of his own congregants, and
they were as dear to him as the rest of his flock.

Then I thought maybe he was referring to Jews, but I crossed that group off
my list too.  Every Passover, Dad invited Rabbi Zahn to help him prepare a
Seder for his congregants, so that they could commemorate the last supper
as Jesus would have experienced it.  The rabbi and a few of his flock
always attended to explain the ritual, and a good time was had by all.

Could Dad have meant Catholics?  Probably not.  Every year the clergymen of
Toledo sponsored a charity golf tournament, and my dad always played in a
foursome with Father Pierce.  They seemed to be good friends.

For sure he didn't mean other Protestant denominations.  Our church
sponsored an inter-faith service once a year and it was always well
attended.  Thinking hard on the whole subject, I had to conclude that my
father was an ecumenical and tolerant man.  For the life of me I could not
figure out who `those people' were.  As I approached puberty I was finally
going to find out what the big mystery was.

I knew very little about homosexuality before I was thirteen years old.
Probably that's why I never figured out who `those people' were until I
first realized that I was gay.  I began to suspect that I was different
than the other kids by the time I entered middle school.  By then there was
a clear distinction in boys' and girls' activities.  I hated gym class.
The other boys made fun of me, and laughed at me, because I threw a ball
like a girl.  I came to hate school altogether until I met Ronnie on my
first day in high school.

Ronnie hated gym class as much as I did.  For some reason the guys did not
make fun of him the way they made fun of me.  Ronnie may have hated gym and
sports, but he was a boy.  That is, he acted like a boy in all other
respects.  I was unaware of it, of course, but I acted, walked and talked
very effeminately.  It wasn't until I realized how different I was, early
in my high school career, that I tried to mask it and pretend to be more
masculine.  I finally acted my way into acceptable masculinity.

Ronnie and I were drawn to each other through our mutual dislike of gym
class.  We started visiting each other's homes on Saturday, and then going
to a movie matinee together.  Ronnie's folks were agnostics and didn't
attend any church, but Ronnie started to attend church with me every
Sunday.  My dad was pleased that I had found a friend of such high
character.

One Sunday after church, I went over to Ronnie's house to hang out.  As I
arrived on my bicycle, his folks were just pulling out of the driveway.
When I entered the house, Ronnie was full of excitement.  We had both
recently turned sixteen and both of us had our driver's licenses.  Ronnie
waved a set of car keys in front of me.  "Guess what?" he asked.  He did
not expect an answer.  "My folks have gone to visit my uncle and won't be
back until way past dinner time.  They gave me the keys to my mother's car
and money for both of us to have dinner at the mall."

I was delighted, but all I could say was, "Cool!  I'll call my folks and
let them know that I won't be home for dinner."

"Call from my room.  We'll hang out there," Ronnie instructed.

I called and got permission from my folks.  I didn't expect opposition.
After all, I was sixteen years old and I could drive a car.  While I was on
the phone, Ronnie had sprawled out on his bed.  He and I had been jacking
off for at least two years, and we always compared notes, but we had never
done it together and we had never seen each other's cocks.  His question
came out of the blue and stunned me.

"When you jack off," he asked, "who do you fantasize about?"

I didn't dare tell him that I fantasized I was with some of the best
looking guys at school, and that he was the leading contender.  "I don't
know," I lied.  "Who do you fantasize about?"

Ronnie was quiet.  It was as if he was weighing a weighty decision.
Finally he answered.  I could barely hear him he was speaking so softly. He
sat up on the bed and gently grabbed my arm.  "You," he said.

He pulled me down so that we were lying side by side.  "Now tell me the
truth," he insisted.  "Who do you fantasize about?"  By now my erection was
pulling at my jeans, and I was afraid that Ronnie would notice."

"Come on," he urged, "We just came from church, so don't lie to me.  Who do
you fantasize about?"

"You," I whispered equally as softly as he did.  Ronnie smiled at me,
leaned over and kissed me.  I melted.  His kiss was so warm, so wonderful,
so loving.  I kissed him back.  Soon our lips parted and we kissed more
passionately.  When we separated Ronnie suggested that we whack each other
off.

"Yes, yes.  That would be so nice," I answered him.

"Let's undress," he said.  We stripped naked.  I was relieved to see that
we were both about the same size and that we were both uncircumcised.  He
reached for my cock, and I reached for his.  Ronnie's cock was the first I
had ever held besides my own.  I couldn't believe how the whole experience
affected me.  I was shivering with delight.  When Ronnie touched me for the
first time, I came before he even stroked me.  It didn't stop him and he
began to jerk me off, rubbing my cum all over my dick.  At the same time I
was stroking him.  I could feel him getting harder as his breath became
shorter.  He erupted and shot cum all over me, and when he did, I came
again.

Ronnie rubbed our mutual cum into our bodies and said, "We'll shower before
we go out."

"Do you think it was wrong to do what we did?" I asked, suddenly racked
with guilt.

"All we did was jerk off," Ronnie answered.  "I sure would like to do a lot
more later on."

"Like what?" I asked in all innocence.

Ronnie turned red.  "You know," he said.  I didn't.

We continued lying in Ronnie's bed side by side and very naked.  We moved
close to each other so that our outer thighs touched.  Ron reached over and
took my cock in his hand.  He started rolling it in his palm.  It felt so
good, so I did the same.

"Nice, isn't it?" he asked me.  I could only nod my head.  Suddenly Ronnie
sat up and then leaned over me.  My cock was hard again and he leaned down
and kissed my piss slit.  I thought I would swoon.  I knew I should stop
him, but the words wouldn't come.

He grabbed my cock gently and started taking it into his mouth.  I began to
shiver again.  I could feel his tongue licking me all over from the head to
the shaft, while his lips pumped on the outside.  I could feel another
orgasm starting in my toes and working up my legs.  "I'm cumming," I tried
to warn him, but Ronnie only sucked harder.  I came gushing into his mouth
and screaming wildly.  To my surprise, Ronnie swallowed everything I had to
offer.

As my dick softened, he let it loose from his mouth, and he slithered up
the bed to lie beside me again.  "Please," he begged, "do that to me."  My
first reaction was that it was appalling and I would never do it.  I
reflected for a moment on how good Ronnie had made me feel, and I figured I
owed him also.

"Give me a minute," I said to Ronnie.  I caught my breath and went down on
him.  He was hard as a rock.  I could barely get all of him inside of me.
Who cared?  I could not believe how good his cock tasted in my mouth.  I
started slobbering all over him.  His body twisted and writhed and even
though I had every bit of him inside of me, he pushed hard trying to go
even deeper.  He didn't say anything when his climax began, but I knew.
His cock got harder and bigger and his balls shrunk.  I was very leery to
do so, but I determined to swallow every drop as he had done.  I was
unprepared for the taste of his sweet nectar.

Afterwards we lay side by side in bed and dozed off.

For the next two years we made love whenever we could.  We progressed
little by little, exploring our sexuality, and by the time we were seniors
approaching our eighteenth birthdays, we had added fucking to our menu.
Although we were versatile with each other, it was obvious that I was
happier being a top and Ronnie was happier being a bottom.  At the
beginning we were racked with guilt, but after a while the guilt totally
disappeared.  We would not have felt guilty at all in the beginning if it
had not been for my father.

The very Sunday after our first encounter, we sat beside each other in
church.  Our hands were on the pew seat and our fingers discreetly touched.
Nobody could see us.  My father rose to begin his sermon.  He hadn't
delivered a `those people' sermon in ages, but he chose that Sunday to
renew his diatribe.  Apparently a young school teacher had been arrested
for touching a young male student inappropriately.  My father was making
the age old mistake of linking homosexuality with pedophilia.  He did not
stop to consider that most pedophiles were straight.  Dad's sermons were
never fire and brimstone.  They were usually full of love, forgiveness and
redemption.  Not so today.  He railed against homosexuals and their evil
agenda to convert all our youth to their sinful ways.  Ronnie pulled his
hand from mine.  We looked at each other and knew that we would have to be
extremely discreet and cautious.

And we were, until the night before our high school graduation.  We had
been to a big graduation party, and everyone was a little drunk including
Ronnie and me.  We allowed ourselves to drink because our parents had
agreed to pick us up when we called them.  We were the last to be picked
up, and we were sitting out on the front porch waiting for our parents to
come by.  Ronnie's hand wandered to my crotch on the darkened porch.  I
followed him, groping for his crotch.  The alcohol caused us to lose our
caution.  Ronnie took his cock out and I leaned over to suck it.  I was
down on him for a few moments, when I heard a gasp.  I looked up to see my
father.  He reached out and pulled me up by my hair.  Before I knew what
was happening, he was slapping me hard from one cheek to the other, and he
was yelling, `faggot.'  It was obvious that he was hyperventilating.  I was
woozy from booze and physical abuse.  I lost all sense of reality and
passed out.

I woke up the next morning in my own bed.  I was still wearing the clothes
I wore the night before.  At the foot of the bed there were two suitcases,
and a note lay on top of them.  The note was in my father's handwriting.

Get ready for graduation and pack these two suitcases.  Immediately after
graduation, I want you out of the house.  I never want to see or hear from
you again.  It's a safe bet that you are headed for hell, so I needn't see
you in the afterlife either.

In case you are wondering about your evil twin, Ronnie, his father is
shipping him off to California.  He hopes his brother out there can cure
him.  He won't be at graduation.  His cell phone has been confiscated as
has been yours, so you can't reach him.  I put $50 in one of the suitcases.
It's more than you deserve.

The note was unsigned.  I showered and dressed, and then packed the two
suitcases.  I barely remember the graduation.  It's a good thing that I
wasn't up for any awards.  My folks attended the ceremonies but never spoke
to me.  They drove me home, dropped me off, and drove off somewhere.
Before they left my father said, "You'd better be gone when I get back."
My mother was crying.

There, I told you that my story was an old one.  It may be a cliché, but it
really happened to me.  I was kicked out of the only home that I had ever
known, and left virtually penniless to fend for myself at the tender age of
eighteen.

******

Completely dejected, I climbed up to my bedroom, picked up the suitcases,
and brought them downstairs.  When I closed the self-locking front door, I
knew it was forever.  My dad had taken my house key away.  The money he had
given me was in my wallet along with about another twenty-five dollars I
had carelessly left lying around my room.  By now it was late afternoon,
but the summer sun was still high in the sky.  I didn't have a clue as to
what I would do next.  I wanted desperately to talk to Ronnie, but that was
out of the question.  He had no phone, and was probably on a plane or a
train headed to California.  I didn't even know where in California.

I walked a few blocks toward a city bus stop, intending to take the bus to
the Greyhound Bus Terminal downtown.  On the way, I passed a small strip
mall and spotted a Goodwill drop off box in the parking lot.  After walking
just a couple of blocks, I had already concluded that two heavy suitcases
were too much of a burden for me.  I went over to the Goodwill box and
opened both suitcases.  I threw about half the contents of the suitcases
into the box and consolidated my load down to one case.  I would just have
to manage with what was left.  I couldn't get the extra suitcase into the
Goodwill box so I left it alongside.

When I walked into the bus terminal, I walked into my destiny.  I still
didn't know what I was going to do so I just sat there for quite awhile
doing nothing.  For the first time, I had the opportunity to really do some
heavy thinking.  Until yesterday, my immediate future was written in
indelible ink in my book of fate.  My dad had enrolled me in his alma
mater, The University of Chicago.  It's a good school and I was looking
forward to getting away from home and my provincial high school.  The big
city would give me opportunities (I thought) to explore my sexuality and to
become a lot more urbane.

The down side was leaving Ronnie, who was going to Ohio State University in
Columbus.  I knew that I didn't love Ronnie and he probably didn't love me.
We were merely best friends and convenient fuck buddies.  I had concluded
that the separation was not going to kill us, and we might both meet
Mr. Right in our new schools.

My dad had told me that he had paid in full for my first semester, and that
included tuition, fees, meals and housing.  He promised to send money for
books when I knew what I would need and how much it would cost.  I was also
to get a weekly allowance.  I wondered if he would request a refund or if
he could even get one.  Suddenly I got an idea.  I would go to Chicago and
get a job somewhere.  I would inquire at the University as to my status.
Even if my father had requested a refund, I was still enrolled.  Other
people had worked their way through college.  I felt confident that I could
too.  The hurdle was to get to Chicago, find a job and rent a room
somewhere.  The YMCA came immediately to mind.

I went up to the ticket window and asked how much a one way ticket to
Chicago would cost.  When the agent told me it would be $40.00, I excused
myself.  That was more than half my assets.  I sat down again and did some
more thinking.  I needed to get more money.  I was wearing a Rolex watch
that my parents had given me as a graduation present.  I also had a gold
pinky ring with a half carat diamond that my mother had given me when her
father died.  It had belonged to him.  Surely I could hock those items for
a few dollars more.  I ran to a phone book and found a pawn shop near the
bus terminal.  It was after six o'clock and I prayed that it was still
open.  I caught the owner just as he was closing up.  He wasn't pleased,
but he let me in.  He gave me $200.00 for the Rolex and $175.00 for the
ring.  I was rich.

By the time I got back to the bus terminal it was well past 7:30 and I
found out that the last bus to Chicago left at 7:00.  The next bus was due
to leave at 6:15 AM.  I purchased a ticket.  There was a little coffee shop
still open in the terminal.  I hadn't eaten since breakfast and I was
starved, but I didn't want to spend money, so all I had was a cup of coffee
and a Danish pastry.  I invested 50 cents in a locker and put my suitcase
inside for safe keeping.  I also put the money from the pawn broker inside
the suitcase.  I hid the key inside my crew socks.  Maybe you think I was
being a little paranoid, but I had read plenty of horror stories.  Then I
made myself as comfortable as possible on a hard wooden bench, and prepared
to spend the night in the terminal.

At about 2 o'clock in the morning, my life turned topsy turvy.  I was
hardly asleep on the hard bench, and I was tossing about in mental and
physical agony.  I thought that I heard someone crying.  I listened a
little harder and I was right.  I sat up and looked around.  At first I
thought that I was the only person in the terminal, but as my eyes
adjusted, and I turned toward the sobbing sound, I could see that a young
man was slumped in a bench just a little over from mine.  There was a
small, but well filled knapsack lying on the bench next to him. His face
was buried in his hands, and his sobbing got a little louder.  I didn't
know if I should approach him or not.  After awhile his sobbing subsided
and he sat up.  His eyes were puffy and red and he seemed to be having
trouble breathing.

I felt some sort of a kinship with the young man.  We were two lost souls,
sitting alone in a darkened and deserted bus terminal in the middle of the
night.  I decided to speak to him.  I walked over to him and it seemed to
me that he was oblivious to my existence, and he was, because when I said,
"Excuse me," he jumped a country mile.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's OK," he replied.  ""It's just that I thought I was alone in here."

He looked up at me and I thought that I had never seen a more beautiful
face.  The boy was definitely of Mediterranean descent.  He had curly black
hair, cut short.  His eyes were very dark brown.  His eyelashes were so
long and black I thought that they might be false.  His nose was straight
and Roman, and his chin was square with a small cleft in the middle.  It
took me a moment to stop staring at him.  Finally I got myself together and
asked, "I couldn't help notice that you were crying.  Is there anything I
can do for you?"

"Thanks, but no," he said.

"Well then, how about we both go into the men's room and wash our faces?
My eyes are full of sleep and yours are all red and puffy.  I think we'll
both feel better if we do."  He looked at me, and I could see that he was
coming to realize that we might both be in the same boat.  He didn't say
anything, but he picked up his knapsack and stood up.  He nodded at me and
we headed for the washroom.

"My name is Teddy," he said to me as he was drying his face.

"I'm Cornell," I said rather apologetically.  "Cornell was my mother's
maiden name.  My friends call me Corky, which is a lot better than Corny."
That made Teddy smile, and I was smitten.  What a beautiful smile he had.
His lips were full and sensual.  His teeth were straight and so white they
sparkled.  I wanted to drag him into a stall and put my lips on his, but I
restrained myself.  We went back to the terminal and this time we sat side
by side on a bench.

"Where are you headed for?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered quite sadly.  "I don't have enough cash to buy
a ticket to the outskirts of Toledo."

"Your folks kicked you out, didn't they?" I boldly asked him.  Teddy
hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

I smiled at him and said, "Me too."

He smiled back at me and asked, "So what are you going to do and where are
you going?"

"I'm going to Chicago," I answered and said no more.

"Why were you disowned?" he asked me.  I didn't hesitate to answer.  I just
had a feeling that truth was called for.

"They found out that I was gay."  I should have stopped there, but I grew
bold.  What did I have to lose?  "My dad caught me sucking my buddy's
cock."

Thank God Teddy didn't look appalled or try to get away from me.  Instead
he leaned into me and whispered, "That's my story too.  Only they didn't
catch me.  I vowed to tell them before I left for college, so when I
graduated yesterday, I told myself that the time was now.  Big mistake,
wouldn't you say?"  Teddy started to cry again.

I wrapped my arms around him and said, "Please don't cry.  You'll ruin your
beautiful eyes."  He immediately looked up at me and smiled.

I was in love and I knew this was all crazy.  For all I knew Teddy was a
con artist.  He could have seen me at the pawn shop and followed me from
there to the terminal.  He knew I had money and maybe he was trying to
extort it, or worse, steal it.  Intellectually I knew all this so why did I
say to him, "Let me buy you a ticket to Chicago.  We'll need all the
strength we can muster to put ourselves on our feet.  We can lean on each
other We can help each other."

"If I had any other alternative," he sobbed, "I would never accept your
offer, but I have nowhere to go.  I swear I'll pay you back every penny."

The original $75.00 I had started with was still in my wallet.  I went over
to the ticket window and roused the snoozing agent.  I returned to Teddy
waving the ticket.  "Our bus leaves at 6:15 and the coffee shop opens at
five so we'll have time for breakfast before we leave."

"I have enough money to treat you to breakfast," Teddy said.  "Please don't
argue."

Just before the coffee shop was due to open, people began to come into the
terminal.  Teddy and I went into the washroom to freshen up.  I had to
retrieve my suitcase to get my toiletry kit.  Teddy removed his from his
knapsack.  Before I closed the suitcase I removed the money and put it in
my pocket.  I was pretty sure that Teddy did not see what I was doing.
First we peed side by side and didn't hide the fact that we were checking
ourselves out.  Our eyes met and we smiled at each other.  There was no
doubt in either of our minds that we would sometime very soon be enjoying
each other.

We brushed our teeth and shaved.  After returning our kits to my suitcase
and his knapsack, we went to wait for the coffee shop to open.  This time
we ate a good breakfast of scrambled eggs with home fries, whole wheat
toast and coffee.  Right after breakfast the bus was ready for boarding.  I
was sorry that I had removed my money from the suitcase because it fit in
the overhead rack and I didn't have to stow it in the belly of the bus.
Teddy's knapsack fit in the rack also.

Although we were the first to board, we chose a seat at the rear of the
bus.  We sat down, our thighs touching seductively.  As soon as we did, I
put my hand on Teddy's knee and he returned the favor.  Nobody could see us
and we moved our hands higher until we were fondling our packages.  As the
bus loaded, we had to stop.  When we did, Teddy leaned into me and
whispered in my ear, "Thank you, sweet man, for saving my life.  Until you
spoke to me, I was considering suicide."

******

The first thing we did in Chicago was take a room at the YMCA.  We were
only there for two weeks.  I landed a job almost immediately at Radio
Shack.  I am gifted when it comes to electronic gadgetry.  Teddy was
equally as blessed.  He had worked in his father's auto repair shop from
the time he was twelve years old, and he was a more than gifted auto
mechanic.  He had no trouble getting employment at a local garage.  With
proof of our combined incomes, we were able to rent a furnished studio
apartment not far from the university.  We had passed the first of many
hurdles to come.

But I skip ahead.  Let me tell you about our first night at the Y.  We
entered the room and locked the door behind us.  I think we were both a
little uncertain how to proceed.  We wasted time hanging up our meager
belongings and putting our socks and underwear in drawers.  When there was
nothing else we could do, we decided to check out the neighborhood for
places to eat economically.  (More delays).  We were strolling aimlessly
when finally I said, "Shit Teddy.  All I want to do is suck your cock."

Teddy grabbed my hand and we ran back to the Y.  The bathroom facilities
were down the hall so we wrapped ourselves in towels the Y provided, and
went to cleanse our bodies.  There were two other young men in the shower
when we entered.  I guessed that they had never heard the word `modesty'
because they were soaping each other and fondling each other's cocks.
Every once in a while they would kiss and grab each other's asses.  Teddy
and I were so amazed we literally froze.  Finally one of them fell to his
knees and started sucking the other.

Teddy and I showered as quickly as possible and before we were fully rinsed
off, one of the guys asked, "Hey, fellas, do you want to join us?"

"No thanks," we yelled in unison and ran for our room.  Inside the room we
started to laugh so hard that our towels slipped down and we could now
examine our bodies without fear of parental interruption or any other
interruption for that matter.

I am 5'10" and weigh 170 pounds.  Teddy is 5'11' and weighs 180 pounds.  We
are both nearly hairless, but have bushy pubic hair.  We are both uncut and
I am maybe a half inch bigger than Teddy at about five inches when flaccid.
Our cocks were hardening as we examined each other.  They both grew to
about seven inches.  Equality at last.  Neither of us has a lot of foreskin
and our entire heads came out of the sheathe when our cocks were hard.

We grabbed each other in a bear hug and began to kiss passionately.  As we
ground our cocks together we each squeezed the other's ass.  I pulled Teddy
over to the bed and we immediately got into a sixty-nine position.  I let
his freshly scrubbed cock linger in front of my face as I savored the odor
of him.  It was intoxicating, and when I could resist no longer I took him
into me and he came in my mouth after a few short strokes.  Never mind, the
same thing happened to me.  I swallowed most of his cum and then twisted
around to kiss him and share the rest.  I found out that Teddy had the same
thoughts in mind.  We kissed tenderly and devoured the rest of our mingled
cum.  It was like we knew exactly what the other guy had in mind.

Neither of us apologized for cumming so fast.  We knew that this was the
beginning of a beautiful friendship.  We had no idea that it would be the
beginning of a classic love affair.

With our first week's pay, we bought some additional clothes at a thrift
shop.  If we didn't have to eat out every night we could have gotten away
with the clothes we had.  Once we were in our own apartment we rarely ate
out.  Neither of us had ever needed to cook, but we learned fast and made
some pretty great meals.  Between us we made enough money to pay the rent
and utilities, and enough to start a college reserve fund for me.  We even
had entertainment money.  Our idea of entertainment was an occasional
movie.  We did make a pact to find out where the gay hangouts were.  We
wanted to make other gay friends.  We realized that if our relationship was
to stay healthy, we needed to have a circle of friends besides ourselves.

Teddy was happy with his job.  His biggest goal was to have his own repair
shop some day.  As for me, I needed to find out how I stood with the
University.  I made an appointment to see the registrar and went one
morning when I was scheduled to work the evening shift at the store.
Imagine my surprise to find out that my dad hadn't cancelled anything.

I asked the registrar, "If I don't use my dorm room, the meal plan or my
parking permit could that money be refunded."

"I'm sorry," he said.  "That's not possible, but we can give you a credit
toward the spring semester tuition."  He figured it out and I was delighted
to know that more than three quarters of the tuition would be paid.  My dad
may not have liked it, but he practically paid my whole first year.  I
swear on all that's holy that if I could have gotten the refund, I would
have mailed it back to my father.  I actually debated sending him a thank
you note, but thought better of it.  I would consider that action after I
graduated.

At work that afternoon, I made arrangements to work the late shift on a
regular basis, and when I got home from work, Teddy and I discussed laying
out a strict budget so that I could start saving for the tuition I would
need in the semesters to come.  With the help of Teddy's salary, we worked
up a plan to see me through college.

I begged Teddy to fuck me royally that night.  "It's my thank you for
helping me out," I said, "but to tell the truth, you can do that to me for
free anytime."

"It's not for free," he countered.  "When you are a rich doctor I'll expect
you to support me."

"Bullshit," I answered.  "Everyone knows that mechanics make more money
than doctors."  I shut off further conversation by shoving my cock in
Teddy's waiting mouth.

Afterward we lay in bed holding each other tightly.  "Do you think I'll
really be able to afford med school?" I asked Teddy.

"I'll make sure of it," he replied.  "All you have to do is get such good
grades that you'll get scholarships to Harvard and Yale.  Don't apply to
Cornell.  That would be too weird.  And don't worry about me.  I can get an
auto mechanic's job anywhere.  I won't open my own shop until you decide
where you want to practice medicine."

"What did I do to deserve you?" I asked.

"You saved my life."  With that I scooted right down and gave my sweetheart
the best blow job I was capable of giving.

******

Our first Christmas together was fast approaching.  Neither of us had a pot
to pee in.  Every spare penny we had was tied up in my education.  I felt
so bad for everything Teddy was sacrificing for me.  I didn't know how I
would do it, but I vowed to get him the best Christmas present ever, but I
had nothing left to pawn.  That wasn't true, I had one more thing, but it
was something I never thought I would ever part with no matter what.

When I was twelve years old, I was sitting at my paternal grandfather's bed
side holding his hand.  We all knew that he only had a few more hours to
live.  I had a special relationship with him.  My father was an only child
as was I.  Grandpa often said that he counted on me to carry on his name.
He even admonished me to name my first born after him.  Grandfather would
not have hated me for being gay, but he would sure have been disappointed
that there would be no more Prestons.  He spoiled me silly and as a kid I
used his love as a weapon to get things my parents refused me.

There was a nurse in the room with us, and he asked her to leave us alone
for a moment.  When she left, he asked me to open one of his dresser
drawers.  "There's a little black box in the corner.  Do you see it boy?
Bring it to me."

I did as he requested.  He opened the box and in it was a beautiful gold
chain.  There was a tiny cross etched into each link.  Grandpa was a
minister also, as were his father and his grandfather.

"This chain should rightfully go to your father," he said, "but I want you
to have it.  I think you are more deserving."  He held out his arms and I
came to him so that he could hug me.

"Now hide this box and never let your father know that I gave it to you.
Anyway, he won't ask about it.  I don't believe he knows of its existence."

I have never worn the chain, but I have showed it many times to Teddy.  "I
want to wear this chain, but I keep thinking that I'm not worthy," I told
Teddy.  "Nonsense," was his curt reply.

I decided to hock this most precious object.  Grandpa gave it to me to
carry on the family name, but that wasn't going to happen.  I began to make
myself believe that if I exchanged it for a present for someone I loved
most in the world, he would approve.  He had always preached about the
power of love.

Even as I went into the pawn shop, I had no idea what I would get for
Teddy.  There were several people ahead of me.  I guess the shop was extra
busy on the day before Christmas.  While I was waiting, I looked in the
show cases.  There was not much that interested me, but there in the third
case, I saw it.  The case was full of watchbands, but there was something
special about the one I zeroed in on.  It wasn't gold, just gold plated,
and it looked really old, like an authentic antique.

When we were unpacking for the first time in our YMCA room, Teddy showed me
a very old watch.  "Look," he pointed out.  "It still runs.  It belonged to
my grandfather, who gave it to me before he died.  I was only thirteen and
I didn't realize how fragile it was.  I always wore it to work, and one day
the band broke.  I was afraid to tell my father and I've kept it hidden for
years.  If I could find an appropriate antique looking band I would wear it
again.  I'd so like to do that in honor of my grandfather."

I had only seen the watch once, but I knew this band was perfect for it.  I
waited impatiently for the proprietor to reach me.  After what seemed like
an agonizing long wait, it was finally my turn.  I laid the gold chain on
the counter.  The pawn broker examined it and declared that it was fourteen
carat gold.  I pointed out the miniscule crosses engraved on each link.

"I'll give you $35.00 for it," he said.  I was devastated.  For sure, I
thought it was worth much more and I said as much.

"Sure it is," the broker said, "but I have to hold it for months before I
can sell it and when finally I can put it in the showcase, it might take
months more to sell.  I'm entitled to make a profit."

I was about to leave the store when I asked him how much he wanted for the
watchband.  "Forty-five bucks," he said rather curtly.

I thought for a moment and then I made him an offer he shouldn't refuse.  I
knew that the gold chain was worth four times what the watch band cost and
I asked, "Would you be willing to make an even exchange?"  "Give me the
chain and ten bucks and you can have the band," he responded.

"No way, man.  That chain is worth considerably more than the band and you
know it," I shouted back.

"If that's true, why are you willing to make such a bad deal?" he asked.

"Because it's the perfect Christmas gift for someone I love," I stated
emphatically.

"Shit," he said.  "I'm a sucker for a sob story especially on Christmas
Eve.  OK, let's do it."

We had purchased a small mantle Christmas tree which came decorated, and we
placed a wreath on our front door.  That was the extent of our splurge for
the holiday.  The studio apartment had one window, and the bright early
morning light woke us up.  Neither of us had been to church since we were
expelled from our homes, but we agreed to go this Christmas morning, our
first Christmas together.  I was trying to rouse myself from the stupor I
was in, when suddenly Teddy rolled on top of me.  He began kissing and
fondling me all at the same time.  His morning breath wasn't at all bad and
I hoped that I was non-offensive as well.  Suddenly he was slithering down
my body, kissing me everywhere until finally he reached my love tool.  He
took it gently into his mouth and started licking it with his tongue.

"Turn around," I demanded.  Teddy began to twist around until his stiff
cock was dangling in front of my lips.  I had no resistance and I took him
totally into me without teasing him like I usually did.  We were both
licking away gently, but as I felt my climax approaching I began to suck
him furiously.  Teddy was doing the same and I figured he was close too.
Simultaneous orgasms are all too rare, but that wonderful Christmas
morning, we achieved Nirvana, cumming together at the same time.

After we recovered, we showered and dressed for church.  We had a glass of
juice and I made the coffee while Teddy toasted the bread.  Our holiday
breakfast consisted of coffee and buttered toast.

As we were washing the dishes and the coffee pot, I said.  "Teddy
sweetheart, I've got a Christmas present for you."

"Not fair," he retorted.  "We agreed, no presents.

"I know," I said, "but this didn't involve any cash outlay."

Teddy laughed.  "I've got something for you also that didn't cost me
anything."

"Me first," I said.  I ran to the closet and took out a small package I had
hidden there.  Teddy ran to a dresser and opened the bottom drawer.  He
removed a small package from under the socks.

I handed him my package and he handed me his.  "You open it first," I said
to Teddy.  He removed the Christmas wrapping carefully and opened the box.
When he saw the watch band he started to cry.  I thought he might.  "It's
for your grandfather's watch," I told him as if he didn't know.

"Open yours," he said.  I tore open the package.  I wasn't dainty at all as
he had been.  Inside was a small gold cross.  "It's for your gold chain,"
Teddy said.  "I want you to wear it now."

 It was my turn to cry.  "Teddy did you ever read The Gift of the Magi by
O'Henry?"

"Sure," he said.  "Why?"

"Sweetheart, I hocked my chain to buy you the band."  As I said this, I ran
my hand down Teddy's teary cheek.

"Good lord," he said.  "I hocked my watch to buy you the cross."

"We just lived O'Henry's story in real life.  Do you think we can earn
enough money to redeem the watch and chain?" I asked.

"I'm going to work my ass off," Teddy answered.

"Teddy," I said grabbing him and holding him tight.  "You sold your most
precious possession to get me a Christmas gift.  I am so humbled and I love
you so much."

"You did as much for me," Teddy answered.  He kissed me and hugged me, and
I could feel his erection pushing against me, begging to be satisfied.

"After church," I promised.  "And in the words of another famous author,
"God bless us, everyone!"