Date: Wed, 12 Feb 2014 07:29:09 -0800 (PST)
From: Dave Ledge <mikedave01@yahoo.com>
Subject: Daniel and Dad, A Romance, Chapter Four

Daniel and Dad, A Romance, Chap. 4

As always, please support Nifty.  I answer all emails at
mikedave01@yahoo.com.

Dedicated to "My Daniel".

From Chapter Three:

"I could tell Dad was thinking very seriously.  Finally he said, `So you're
the person I've been looking for, not even knowing I was looking?'  `Yes
John, I am, just as you're the person I've been looking for, knowing I was
looking.'  He smiled a bit at my word play.  `So', he said finally.  We're
going to have to figure out a way to be together permanently then.'  `Yes',
I answered.  `Until then, neither one of us will be happy without our other
self.'  Now he seemed taken aback by my words.  He repeated, `Without our
other selfÉ That is true, isn't it?  That is us, isn't it?'  I merely
nodded.  `Daniel, how did you get to be so knowing?'  I smiled and said, `I
guess I was just raised right.'  He laughed out loud and said, `I guess you
were!'  He then sobered and said, `I've never felt this way before.  I
truly love you, all of you, all you are.  I don't want to be apart from
you.'  I took his face in my hands and said as earnestly as I could, `Then
make it happen, John.  Make it happen.'

I think we both cried a little bit then before sleep overtook us.  We did a
repeat sixty-nine in the morning and lovingly caressed each other in our
long overdue shower.  We both knew he was leaving and we took extra care
with each other.  He took me out to a fabulous brunch (if I told you where,
I'd have to kill you, grin) and then dropped me off at my apartment in
Morningside Heights.  The livery driver averted his eyes as Dad kissed me
intensely in public in front of the apartment.

We searched each other's eyes and faces then.  We both had tears in our
eyes.  All Dad said then was, `I'll make it happen Daniel.  I will.  It
will take time, but I will make it happen.'"

The weeks that followed were both sweet and bitter, wonderful and
cheerless, euphoric and depressing.  Dad came down to New York as often as
he could, but the nature of his work against organized crime meant that
that wasn't nearly as often as both of us wanted and needed.  We Skyped
every day for a least a few minutes a day, just to see each other's faces,
smiles, and sadness.  We wrote each other notes every day, too.  Every time
I closed a note with "I love you" I shook my head in wonder.  I had never
thought to be this deeply in love, ever, and especially not with my Dad.  I
also got hard every time I thought about him in the Hawkman costume on the
stage of the Hawk Club in midtown Manhattan and even harder when I thought
about how hot he looked after stripping it off, too!  Grin.

We talked through sexual and other likes and dislikes in our notes and
calls, too.  I found out he liked classic rock as much as I do.  He
introduced me to new science fiction and fantasy writers.  It also turned
out that my big league lawyer Dad loved Romantic poetry, too.  I'm not
usually a fan of that kind of thing, however, when he sent me poems of love
from him to me, I began to share his taste.  Grin again.

He could only make it to NYC about every other weekend and we spent every
minute together sharing everything.  The first weekend he came back we went
to some of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan. But I soon decided
that I preferred small, intimate, places to the show of the Columbus Circle
showplaces.  While Thomas Keller's food is exquisite and "perfect", somehow
it didn't woo me the way the perfect Turkish pide or Brazilian fejoada did.
Once Dad realized that, we made a pact to try every one of the world's
cuisines the area's restaurants had to offer in search of a signature dish
at each.  We didn't limit our search to Manhattan.  We wound up in deepest
darkest Queens and even in New Jersey!  LOL.  We ate Ethiopian with our
fingers and scooped up the flavorful sauces with our bread.  We learned
what "fufu" was and that "gombo" is a West African word for okra.  However,
we didn't disparage American food either.  And we had fun arguments on
whether John's had the best pizza in the City and which location was the
best.  We debated Katz's vs. Second Avenue Deli and where were the best
pickles even!

We also went out to concerts and museums.  Dad didn't try to impress me
again by having concert programs dedicated to him and me, like he did on
our first date.  That was perfectly fine with me.  I didn't need that kind
of attention.  Once was certainly enough and how could you top the New York
Philharmonic either!

I learned more about different kinds of classical music and even started to
get interested in opera and chamber music, something I didn't expect to
happen.  I also developed a love for jazz and loved the times we would
spend in small clubs in different parts of the region.

Yes, we did go back to the Hawk Club regularly, too.  Every time was a huge
rush just like the first time.  Putting on the Hawkbrother and Hawkman
costumes was a big turn on for both of us.  I loved the way Dad's beautiful
butt was barely contained and how his pouch was tented as well as how the
straps outlined his beautiful hairy chest and showed off his big nipples
and teats.  I enjoyed how the mask made him mysterious and exotic.  From
the admiring looks I got from him in my costume, he must have had similar
thoughts!

I loved dancing with him on the stage and performing for the hot men in the
audience.  I also loved the gropeÑI mean group (or do I mean grope?)
dancing at the Club.  Dancing nearly naked with hundreds of other nearly
naked men was a total thrill and edged me big time.  But I never had the
slightest desire to do anything but dance with those men.  Being with them,
laughing with them, and playing with them, reminded me that I already had
the best man in the world, the hottest man of any guy in the club, and
someone who was going to fuck my brains out later (!) or maybe I'd do the
same for him.  LOL again.

But of course the best part of our time together was when we were naked in
each other's arms in his luxurious hotel room between silk sheets.

We tried everything we could think of.  We made love to each other in every
position we could imagine.  We discovered we were both as versatile as a
man could be and that we didn't prefer being either "top" or "bottom".  We
discovered that as long as it was the two of us, it didn't matter who was
what as long as it was us making love with each other.  Although if I had
had to choose (and was glad I didn't) I probably would have chosen Dad in
me, since that was how we had first made love.  It was also how I was
introduced to male love and I knew Dad had only made love that way before
me.  And, yes, as a "power bottom" I knew how to give as good as I got that
way, too!  Grin.

So, it was feast or famine for months on end.  We fell deeper and deeper in
love and every parting became harder and harder.  We had so much fun as
well as love and passion when we were together.  We were souls that
completed each other.  How had we never known this?

At one point Dad asked if I would transfer to Harvard to live closer to
home.  I thought about it for a long time.  But the English Ph.D. program
at Columbia was perfect for me and my particular interests in literary
criticism.  Harvard was a bit stuffy and not as "avant la lettre" as
Columbia.  I knew I wouldn't be happy there.  While I ached with passion to
be near Dad and be able to spend more time with him, I just couldn't do it.

Finally, one extremely memorable weekend in April, Dad arrived back in NYC.
When he picked me up in the livery car that Friday afternoon, he was
whistling in the back seat as I got in next to him and leaned over for my
kiss.  "So, what?" I asked.  "Later" he smiled.  "Food first."  He had the
driver take us to midtown to one of our favorite French bistrots.  He
greeted the owner in French, as was his custom.  (One of the many things I
didn't know about Dad was that he spoke several languages, too.)  We had
"coquilles Saint-Jacques" for the main course with a wonderful Vouvray that
complimented the richness of the sauce wonderfully.

After supper Dad had the livery car driver take us back in the direction of
Columbia.  Just before we got to campus we took a turn off toward the
Hudson.  The car stopped in front of one of the understated, yet quite
beautiful, apartment homes on Riverside Drive.  In the gentrification of
Manhattan, this part of the island certainly was not forgotten.  Dad gave
the driver his signal for "that's it for tonight" and led me towards one of
the homes.  I was completely nonplussed and puzzled.  Were we going to some
kind of party or reception I wondered?  An unseen concierge buzzed us into
the building.  We walked up a palatial staircase to the top floor.  I was
still confused and wondering when Dad produced a set of keys.  He unlocked
the door and then led me into the apartment.  My jaw dropped in amazement.
It was gorgeous!  It was superbly furnished with top-notch quality.
Restraint, with warmth, was the note for the decoration.  The wooden floors
had recently been redone, I could tell, too.  I wandered around marveling
at the beauty.  The apartment was not huge, but certainly plenty large
enough for a couple.  That thought made my heart race.  I couldn't speak
but just turned my face toward my Dad's.  He gave me a huge beaming smile
then.  "Yes", he answered to my unspoken question, "This is ours".  He took
out another set of keys and handed them to me.

I must have made some kind of sound, because Dad suddenly took me into his
arms and held me.  Gently he started to lead me for what I realized must be
the bedroom.  Well, I certainly wanted to end up there.  But first!

"John", I said, stopping him.  "Explain".  As always he smiled at my use of
his first name.  "Daniel", he said, "This is now our home together, at
least until you graduate from Columbia.  After that we can decide where
else we might want to live.  You can move in here as soon as you'd like to.
This is easy walking distance from your classes. I know your dorm room is
paid for the rest of the academic year, but this is now yours, too.
Unfortunately, " he said with a huge frown "I can't move here until June.
The government has approved my move from Massachusetts here, but it's going
to take a couple of months to set up my replacement there and tie up loose
ends in the office."

I was having a hard time taking all of this in.  I didn't quite need a
brown bag to breathe in to avoid passing out, but it was close.  Dad
realized what was going on in my head immediately.  He sat me down on the
beautiful love seat in the living room and went to the bar and poured me
out a very restorative Cognac.

After some minutes of silence and reflection, I finally asked the question
that had to be asked.  "So, what about Mom?"

"She got the house", he replied.  "Explain", I said again.  "Daniel", he
said, "We've been growing apart for years and years.  She's always been a
homebody.  She never approved or accepted my change in career.  She never
wanted me to be missing an evening meal or for me to do anything I wanted
to do that was exciting.  To be honest we finally realized that I was
staying with her and she was only staying with me for your sake.  We both
love you more than anything, including each other."

Well that took a second glass of Cognac.

"So, she's happy enough without you?" I asked.  "As long as you still love
her as your Mom," he replied.

The next question had to be asked, although super reluctantly.  "So, does
she know about us?"  I couldn't look Dad in the eyes when asking this.

He raised my head to look at him.  "Yes, she does", he answered.  "And she
said that she was not surprised.  She also said that if I ever did anything
to hurt you she would kill me. And I'm sure she meant it."

Wow. I wasn't sure if this was too much information or not.  This was going
to take real time to process.

And then Dad surprised me once again.  "This is not the right time, but I
can't wait any longer", he said.  He kneeled beside me on the love seat.
He took out a ring case and opened it up.  In it was a very beautiful
emerald ring.  Somehow he had learned that emeralds are my very favorite
stone.

With the most serious expression I had ever seen on his face, he asked me,
"Will you marry me?"