Date: Sun, 13 May 2001 09:37:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@excite.com>
Subject: "My Father, My Son"  21st Installment

Following is the twenty-first chapter of my novel, "My Father, My Son."
The story is mostly fiction, but contains some elements that are true from
the author's own experience.  The story contains explicit descriptions of
sexual activity among family members, but contains no violence of a sexual
nature.  Also, all sexual activity is with the complete consent of all the
persons involved.  In addition, although condoms are never mentioned, it is
the author's intention that readers should assume that condoms are used
whenever anal intercourse is performed by any of the characters.  Any
persons who are offended by material of this nature should read no further.
The author welcomes any comments at any time, whether constructive or
destructive, and whether praiseful or damning.  Suggestions of any kind are
equally welcome.

Send to: tombor99@excite.com


My Father, My Son
Chapter 21

The Fort Stockton Eagle Riders, the area's fifty member joy-riding
motorcycle club, was preparing to set out on another ride over the winding
roads of the nearby Glass Mountains.  Charlie Lipton had not gone on the
previous ride, but this day overheard several of the riders talking about
the car that had rolled off the road and into the ravine on the previous
ride.  Charlie walked up to Bubba Stevenson, the leader of the Club.

"Bubba, what's this I hear about some car that was run off the road on your
last ride through the mountains?"

"Aw, `tweren't nothin'.  Nobody got run off of no road.  We just saw some
car that looked like it jist run deliberately off the road and down the
hill."

"But, Bubba, some of the guys say they saw the car rolling off the cliff,
and there were two people in it.  And they said nobody stopped to check on
them.  Why didn't anybody check on them?"

"Jist git off that shit, Charlie.  If them people wasn't okay, we woulda
heard about it, right?  Now jist fergit about it and git yer bike ready to
go."

Charlie knew how dangerous the curves on those mountain roads were and how
far the drops were to the valleys below.  He knew that there had been many
people killed that way through the years.  He ran back into the clubhouse
and dialed the Sheriff's office.

"Hello, I want to report an accident that happened about three or four days
ago up on the road above Baker's Canyon.  Someone told me that a car went
off the road and crashed into the ravine below, but they never looked to
see if anybody was hurt.  I think you ought to send someone to go and check
it out."

About an hour later, a deputy was sent out in a patrol car to drive along
the road and inspect the valleys below.  He soon spotted the wreckage.  He
ran back to his car and radioed the office.

"I spotted a car lying upside down in the ravine in Baker's Canyon.  It's
pretty well smashed up and there appears to be two bodies lying beside it.
It's not accessible by land vehicle.  I think y'all better dispatch the
medi-vac helicopter in case there's anyone still alive down there.  It
don't look like it, though.  Ten-four."

When the helicopter arrived, two paramedics jumped out and ran to the site
of the crash.  The bodies of Brian and Josiah were lying close together
with their arms still around each other.  Brian's head was nestled in the
crook of Josiah's neck.

Kneeling next to them, they checked for a pulse.  One of them said, "I
don't feel a pulse.  How about you?"

"No.  This other one's dead, too.  They've lost a lot of blood.  I think
they just bled to death."

"Yeah.  And one's without his shirt.  The nights are so cold down here in
the canyon.  They look like they were huddled together to try to stay
warm."

One of the medics said, with his voice shaking, "The blond one reminds me
of my own son.  This is so hard.  I don't know why I ever got into this
business."

While loading the bodies into the helicopter, one of them said, "They must
not have been dead long.  This one hasn't stiffened up yet."

Picking up Josiah's hand and holding it for a several seconds, the other
medic shouted, "Hey, Bobby, I think I have a pulse on this one!  It's
pretty weak, but it's there.  Check the other one again."

The other medic checked Brian.  "I've got a weak pulse here, too!  I think
their pulse quickened when we moved them.  Quick!  Let's get going."

Oxygen masks were placed over the faces of the two boys and intravenous
saline application was started.  As soon as they landed at the Ft. Stockton
General Hospital, they were rushed into the emergency room.  Their bloody
clothes were cut off of them and they were immediately hooked up to
monitors to test their vital signs.  They were extremely dehydrated and
both remained unconscious.

The Patient Services department was given the wallets of the young men.
Inside each wallet, they found that they had come from the Walker Ranch.

Miss Dubois, administrative assistant, was given the task of calling the
ranch to report the admission of the two men and that it appeared their
injuries were so serious that they were going to be medi-vacked to
Methodist Hospital in San Antonio.  Taking the call initially, of course,
was Maggie, who immediately became hysterical.  After Michael heard all of
the details of the boys' injuries from Miss Dubois, he notified Jake.
Michael, Jake, and Paul immediately got into the car and drove to San
Antonio.  Jeff and Karl were left to supervise matters at the ranch.

Michael drove while Paul sat in the backseat with Jake.  Jake sat and
stared out of the window as though he were in shock.  Suddenly turning his
head toward Michael, he said, "Michael, when we git back to the ranch I'm
puttin' in my resignation.  I'm gonna retire now.  It's time I move on.
I'm jist trouble.  That's all.  I'm jist trouble."

Michael turned his head and shouted back to Jake, "What are you talking
about, Jake?  You can't retire now!  We're making a lot of changes and
improvements on the ranch, and we can't do without you."

"No, I'm . . . I'm goin', Michael.  I'm nothin' but trouble."

"Listen Jake," called Michael.  "Just settle down.  We'll talk about it
when we get back."

Jake had made up his mind.  He strongly believed that trouble happened in
threes.  He blamed himself for both Josiah's getting beaten up and his
getting shot.  Now, Josiah is once again at death's door because of him.
He was the one who urged Josiah and Brian to go up to the Pecos and then
down to Ft. Stockton.  He knew how treacherous those roads were down there.
Jake believed that something—maybe the devil, he didn't know what—was
deliberately making him responsible for bringing harm to Josiah.  Maybe
Josiah was not meant to come upon him when he was about to kill himself.
Maybe Josiah's getting tied up with Jake was a mistake of nature.  And
maybe nature was trying to punish both Josiah and Jake for meeting each
other in the first place.  Maybe Josiah is meant to die as Jake's
punishment for preventing Josiah from going on to El Paso where he wanted
to go in the first place.

Jake knew one thing.  He had to get out of Josiah's life.  Nothing would
stand in the way of Josiah's death next time—unless Jake were gone and
out of his life forever.

At the hospital, Michael, Jake and Paul sat down in a small office where a
doctor explained the condition of the two boys.

"You need to know that both Brian and Josiah are in very serious condition,
although Brian has the more serious injuries.  They lost so much blood over
the three days before they were found, it is a wonder they're still alive.
Both were severely dehydrated.  There are lesions all over Brian's legs and
he has a severe head injury, involving a crushed portion of one part of his
skull.  Also, his hip was badly dislocated, although not broken.  As for
Josiah, we found that both of his ankles were badly sprained, and his left
arm is broken above the elbow.  Also, it appears that he may have some
kidney damage, and he has a severely sprained wrist.  And aside from all
that, they both are pretty well banged up with cuts and bruises that we're
treating.  They're both in surgery now.  It will probably be another four
to six hours before we can have another report for you.  In the meantime,
Mr. Walker, you may wish to take care of the paperwork down in the office.
You know, the insurance coverage and all that."

After Michael finished at the office, he called the ranch and talked to
Karl.  Karl told Michael that Jeff had notified Adriano in Austin since
Brian had been one of his students.  Adriano told Jeff that he was going to
drive down to San Antonio immediately.

When Brian and Josiah were delivered to their rooms in the ICU area after
their surgery, Michael, Jake, and Paul were given the good news that the
surgery had gone well and the two boys were responding well to treatment.
Their body fluids were being replenished and they were receiving blood
transfusions.  Although they were now heavily sedated and asleep, Michael
and Paul visited the two patients briefly in their separate rooms.  Jake
refused to leave the waiting room.  He was convinced that if he entered
Josiah's room, Josiah would die.

The three stayed overnight at a motel near the hospital.  Maggie had told
them that she had talked to Rhapsody, and Rhapsody offered to put the three
of them up for the night in her apartment.  But Michael and Paul declined
the offer since being around Rhapsody was not what they needed on this very
worrisome occasion.

On the following morning, Adriano joined the others in the waiting room
down the hall from the boys' rooms.  By mid-morning, Charlie Lipton, the
motorcycle club member who had called the sheriff, arrived.  He had packed
in his car all of the equipment and luggage belonging to Brian and Josiah
that he had extracted from the wrecked car.

Charlie explained, "They hauled the car away, and after the insurance
adjuster finished inspecting it, I broke open the trunk so I could get this
stuff and return it to you."

"I really thank you a lot, Charlie," said Michael, "not only for taking
this long trip over here to deliver these things, but for being the one who
called the Sheriff.  We're indebted to you."

"Well, I could have had this stuff sent to you, but I really wanted to know
how those two boys are doing.  I heard they were almost dead."

Michael filled him in on the boys' condition and assured Charlie that
everything looked as though they would make it alright.

Charlie said, "Well, I'm glad.  I guess I'd better start back now."

Adriano spoke up quickly.  "Hey, Charlie, you just got here.  Why don't you
let me take you to the coffee shop downstairs for a cup of coffee and a
roll or something.  You deserve a lot of thanks.  If it weren't for you,
they probably wouldn't have survived another day."

Adriano and Charlie sat for about an hour in the coffee shop.  Adriano was
really interested in hearing about the motorcycle club and Charlie's
regular employment as a Vet's helper at the Stockton Animal Hospital and
Clinic.  And Charlie was likewise most impressed with Adriano being a
Professor of Veterinary Science at the University in Austin.

"Charlie, here's my card.  Please give me a call sometime.  I'd really like
to have you come up to the campus so I could give you a tour of our labs
and animal pens.  Since you're a Vet's helper, I'm sure it would be really
interesting for you to see them."

"That's real nice of you, Adriano.  I'd really like to do that.  And I'll
call you.  But there's one other thing.  You've got to let me give you a
ride on the back of my bike."

"I don't know Charlie.  I've never been on a motorcycle before."

"Oh, but it'll give you the thrill of your life.  There's nothing like it.
You'll see.  If I come to Austin to see your set up, will you promise to
let me take you for a ride?

"Well, Charlie, I'm going to give you only a tentative promise because I'm
really not very brave.  Those things seem awful dangerous to me, and they
kind of scare me."

"Okay, but I'm going to get you hooked!"

Adriano and Charlie shook hands.  "God, one of the Earth's beauties,"
Adriano thought as he stared after Charlie as he walked out of the
building.  The thought of taking a ride on the back of Charlie's motorcycle
sent a shiver of excitement up Adriano's spine.

While Jake stayed seated in the waiting room, Michael, Paul, and Adriano
visited each of the boys in their separate rooms.  Josiah's eyes were open,
and he was wearing oxygen nose plugs.

"Good morning, Josiah," said Michael.  "How are you feeling?"

Ignoring the question, Josiah replied in a faint voice, "Where's Brian?"

"Brian's in another room down the hall."

"Can I see him?"

Michael hesitated before saying, "Not right away, but you'll be able to see
him pretty soon?"

Josiah said, "Somebody said this morning we had an accident.  I don't
remember having any accident."

"Well, Josiah, it was a pretty bad accident, but you and Brian will be
doing fine."

"All I know is I want to see Brian so badly."  Tears started welling up in
his eyes.

"I told you, Josiah, he's doing fine.  You'll see him soon."

Josiah closed his eyes.  "I dreamt that Brian was dying.  And I was going
to go with him.  I promised him I would go with him.  Michael, tell me.
Please.  Is Brian dead?"

"No, Josiah.  As I said, he's doing fine."

With a piece of tissue, Paul dried the tears from Josiah's cheeks that ran
from his eyes.  Paul whispered, "You're both alive and well, Josiah.  You
just had a very bad dream.  You and Brian will see each other very soon."

Josiah gave a slight nod of his head and once again fell asleep.

Michael and Paul hardly recognized Brian when they entered his room.  Not
only was his head heavily bandaged, but he had two severely blackened eyes.
He didn't seem to recognize Michael and Paul, but the nurse said that the
trauma to Brian's head was probably causing that.  Paul was so emotionally
moved by the sight of his former student in this condition, that he broke
into tears.  Then, seeing Paul's tears, Adriano started to cry.  Standing
next to Brian's bed, Paul leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek.
Brian was moaning a little, and the nurse said that he was in a great deal
of pain and that she would install another vial of Morphine to be
administered through his IV.

Michael told the nurses that they were going back to the ranch, but someone
from the ranch would be visiting the hospital every day and would spend a
good deal of time with the two boys.

While Michael was in San Antonio, Karl alone made the morning inspections
of the facilities that the two of them would normally perform together.
When he returned to the house, he went into the small office just off of
his and Michael's room to make some notes of things that needed to be
called to Michael's attention.  Having left the door open, Tony took it as
an invitation to enter.

"Hi, Karl.  When's Michael coming back?"

Without looking up from his notes, Karl said, "He'll be back later this
afternoon."

"Karl, why don't you and I saddle up some horses and take a ride out to
that stream for a little while.  I haven't hardly had any time to talk with
you since I came here.  You and I were always good friends.  Why can't we
be friends now?"

Karl turned around and saw Tony through the door sitting on the bed in the
bedroom.  "We are friends, Tony."

"But not like we were, Karl."

Karl turned back to his paperwork and said, "How many times do I have to
tell you?  You said it.  It's not like we were."  Pretending to be writing,
Karl said, "Do you know what I'm doing here?  I'm writing out a request for
a plane ticket to send you back to New York.  How does that sound to you?"

Karl go up from the desk and turned to go into the bedroom.  It was then
that he saw Tony sitting on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, and with
his pants down around his knees.

"I've got this big hard dick for you, Karl.  It's for you.  It's always
been for you."

Karl could feel his penis jump in his briefs.  The sight of Tony's
perfectly straight and long and thick cock always sent sexual chills
through his body.  But this time, he forced himself to look away.

"Get off of Michael's bed, Tony."

"It's your bed, too, isn't it?"

Karl's penis was now in full erection.  "Pull up your pants, Tony, and get
out of here now!"

With a little smile on his face, Tony started stroking his penis very
slowly.

"Tony, I'm leaving the room.  I have things to do.  If you are still here
when I come back, you will be put on that plane first thing in the
morning."

Karl ran quickly out of the house and jumped into the jeep.  He decided to
drive off to the west and take a look at how the construction was coming on
Michael's little house in the Cottonwoods.  It would be a good diversion.
There were no workmen on duty when he arrived, so he walked up to the large
porch on the western side and sat on the floor with his legs dangling over
the side.

Karl thought, "You see, Michael.  I can do it.  I can be strong.  There's
right and there's wrong.  And I'm going to be right from now on.  There's
never been any wavering in my love for you, Michael.  I've been so stupid
and weak."

Karl stood up and stretched his arms up in the air and shouted out over the
range land, "There's no room for weaklings on this ranch!  And I'm not
weak!  I'm strong!  I'm strong!"


That evening was one of Maggie's scheduled times to make her
Meals-on-Wheels deliveries.  She had not been able to get old Homer
Kesselring off of her delivery schedule.  She had now made three visits to
his apartment.  Although she never tired of looking at all of the beautiful
antiques and books in Homer's rooms, she always felt depressed after having
put up with his sour personality and disagreeable behavior.

Homer was always her last delivery.  On this night, he was as offensive as
ever.  "Come in," he shouted when Maggie knocked on the door.

"Well, Homer," began Maggie in her usual false cheerfulness, "We have roast
beef tonight.  Do you like roast beef?"

"No."

"Well, you old coot, that's what you're getting."  Maggie opened the
styrofoam carton and held it under Homer's nose."

"It's red!" shouted Homer.  "I don't like red meat."

"You want it well done?"  Looking down at it, Maggie said, "It does look a
bit bloody rare, doesn't it.  I'll just put it in a frying pan and cook it
some more."

Homer didn't object.  He just scowled and eyed Maggie as she went into the
kitchen, and listened while she rummaged through the pots and pans for a
frying pan.  When the beef had finally been cooked to eliminate any
redness, Maggie unloaded the rest of the meal out of its carton and
arranged it as artfully as she could on a china plate that she had found in
the cupboard.  After placing it on the table, she looked around and saw two
candlesticks on the sideboard containing tall, partly burned white candles.
Placing the candles on the table near Homer's plate of food, she turned off
the overhead light and lit the candles.  Then without a word, she went
behind Homer and started to push his wheelchair up to the table.

"Get away from me!"  he shouted.  "I can do this myself."

As he wheeled himself up to the table, he looked at the meat and merely
growled, "Hmmmm."  Then leaning over, he blew out the candles.  "There's no
need for candles.  They burn up too much oxygen in the room."

Maggie sat across from Homer at the table as he ate.  Neither spoke.  As
Homer finished up the last of what was on his plate, he said in an
uncharacteristically soft voice, "I'd like some coffee now."

Maggie went into the kitchen and found a china cup that matched the plate
and filled it with coffee from the thermos, rather than giving it to him in
a styrofoam cup.  She also put some cream in a matching creamer she found,
and poured out the sugar from the little packets provided into a matching
sugar bowl.  When she delivered it to the table, Homer looked startled and
began to stare at the cup wistfully, running his finger along the handle.

"Where did you find this, Peterson?"

"They were in your cupboard, Homer."  Maggie could tell that Homer seemed
to be moved by the sight of this china.  It must have some meaning to him,
she thought.  When he had finished his coffee, Maggie gathered up the
dishes and rinsed them off in the sink.  She could find no dishwashing
liquid, but she would bring some on her next visit.  Homer remained
strangely silent until Maggie left.  He didn't even yell at her to be sure
to close the door tightly.

In the hallway, Maggie met another woman coming up the stairs.  "Good
evening," she said.  "I'm Mrs. Jackson.  I live in the next apartment.  I
suppose you've been here to deliver Mr. Kesselring's dinner."

"Yes," replied Maggie.  "He's a difficult man.  But I do like to look at
all the lovely things he has in his apartment.  Each time I come, I see
something else I had missed on my last visit."

"Well, I've occasionally gotten a glimpse of his apartment if I happened to
pass by when the door was opening.  I always thought it was rather dark and
depressing looking."

"Not at all, Mrs. Jackson.  He has quite lovely things.  Tell me, does
Mr. Kesselring have any family around.  I can't seem to get him to talk
about himself.  Does he have any children or anyone else who might care
what happens to him?

"Well, his oldest son used to come around occasionally, but they used to
fight so loud, I could hear them clearly through my living room wall.  I
think the son's wife was the one who put an end to the visits.
Mr. Kesselring had some money, I understand—a fairly good sized estate,
I've heard.  But one day, according to what his daughter-in-law told me, he
announced to them both that he had willed all his money to the Manhattan
School of Music.  You know, the one in New York.  In fact, most of his
money has already been given to that school.  There's very little left to
be bequeathed after his death.  He has enough to pay his rent and buy a few
essentials.  But that's all."

"Mrs. Jackson, are you saying that Mr. Kesselring is essentially alone?
Why did he give all his money to the school of music?"

"His son told me a long time ago that his brother—Mr. Kesselring's
youngest son—was very gifted and won a scholarship to the school of
music in New York.  He played the violin.  But when he was eighteen years
old, he was walking home from the school one evening and was assaulted on
the street.  When they found he had no money on him, they beat him quite
badly and left him to die.  But they took his violin.  The police found it
later in an alley, still in its unopened case.

"Mr. Kesselring's son showed me a picture of his young brother.  He was a
handsome lad.  It was such a shame. His name was Roman—Roman Kesselring.
Mr. Kesselring never recovered from his death and soon suffered a number of
strokes which left him unable to do everything for himself.  He insisted,
though, that he was going to remain here in the apartment that he and his
wife had shared for many years."

"What happened to his wife, Mrs. Jackson."

"She died not long after Roman was killed.  I believe she died of heart
failure."

Maggie looked back at Homer's door.  "That poor man.  You know, the first
night I met him, he had a violin on his lap.  It was probably the one that
belonged to Roman.  One never knows, does one, Mrs. Jackson, what pain
those around us suffer sometimes."

Maggie left the building a bit ashamed of the opinion she had formed of
Homer.  It was true.  No one really knows the pain others may be enduring.


When Michael returned to the ranch from San Antonio, it was very late at
night.  He went directly to his room to get ready for bed.  Karl, who was
expecting him, was lying in bed wide awake.  He and Michael had not yet had
a chance to talk seriously since the incident with Tony.  Karl knew that
there would remain a little coldness on Michael's part until the two of
them could find a time to talk and clear the air.

As Michael climbed into bed, Karl rolled over and kissed him on the cheek.
Michael returned a rather uninspired kiss on Karl's cheek.

Karl said, "Michael, I want you and I to go away from here for a little
vacation."

"We can't leave the ranch now.  There's too much . . . ."

"Yes, we can, Michael.  Jeff and Paul can take care of anything that needs
to be taken care of for a few days.  We have some things to talk about.
I'm not going to live down here with the one person I love more than anyone
else, who thinks I'm a crumb-bum."

Not looking at Karl, Michael said, "Aw, Karl, I don't think you're a
crumb-bum."

"Maybe that's the wrong word, Michael.  But I know what you're feeling.  We
won't talk now, but we have to talk sometime.  I'm going to make
reservations for us to go to New York City, maybe see a few shows, see a
few sights.  Just the two of us away from all this where we can reconfirm
the love we have for each other.  And where I can do something that will
restore your trust in me."

Michael rolled over and kissed Karl on the lips.  "I do love you Karl.
You've always known that.  That love doesn't need to be `reconfirmed," as
you put it."

"I know, Michael, but your trust in me needs to be restored.  And I'm going
to see that it is."

Karl and Michael had not made serious love in bed since the incident with
Tony.  Now Karl took a chance and slid down, running his tongue down
Michael's stomach and through the thicket of his black pubic hair.  Not
certain what he would find beyond that, he was relieved to find Michael's
penis, fully erect and rock hard, pressing against his lips.  Sucking it
into his mouth all the way to the hilt and swirling his tongue around
Michael's firm penis head, Karl could hear Michael catching his breath and
moaning slightly.

Michael then suddenly sat up and turned his body around so that they could
pleasure each other in a sixty-nine position.  Michael ran his tongue all
around Karl's penis without taking it into his mouth.  Then pushing Karl's
legs slightly apart and pushing his face down deeper into Karl's crotch,
Michael gnawed lightly on the soft skin of Karl's scrotum, sucking in one
ball at a time and rolling it around in his mouth.  Karl found it
impossible to stifle a short yell of ecstasy as each ball was fondled in
Michael's mouth.

Karl pulled his mouth off of Michael's penis and lifted Michael's thighs so
that he could run his tongue over those thighs and suck on the soft hair
that covered them.  Karl had always found Michael's legs the most erotic
part of Michael's body.  They were firm, but not overly muscular.  They
were of a gentle shape with perfectly formed calves and thigh muscles.

Soon, Karl had Michael's gorged penis back in his mouth and was running his
lips and tongue up and down over it with increased ferocity.  As he held
onto Michael's balls, Karl could feel them begin to pull up into his body.
He knew that Michael's orgasm was beginning, so he knew he could now let go
of his own load.  As they had always tried to do, they were once again
going to shoot their sperm simultaneously into each other's mouths.  With
both moaning loudly, their mouths were filled with each other's hot thick
sperm.  Breathing heavily through their noses, they turned to kiss each
other and transfer each other's sperm between their mouths.  Once again, as
it always did, the sperm dribbled out of their mouths and down their chins
onto the sheet.

Exhausted, neither one wanted to move.  Continuing to hold on to each
other, they were soon asleep.


Several weeks passed before Josiah and Brian were transferred out of the
Intensive Care Unit into private rooms.  They both were now permitted to
sit in wheelchairs and move about the floor.  The first time the two boys
saw each other was when Brian wheeled himself into Josiah's room.  Rolling
up next to Josiah's bed, Brian reached for his hand.  They held each
other's hand tightly and looked into each other's eyes.  Neither one said
anything, but tears rolled down their cheeks.

Finally Brian said, "They say we were in a terrible accident.  Do you
remember what happened?"

Josiah said, "I don't remember anything, Brian.  All I remember is a dream
I had.  I dreamt that you had died and that I was going with you.  I
promised you I'd go with you.  It seems like I've been reliving that dream
over and over in my mind."

Brian looked amazed at Josiah.  "Josiah, I can hardly believe it.  I dreamt
the same thing.  I heard you say you were going with me if I died.  And all
I could feel was our holding on to each other so we could go together.  And
Josiah, in my dream, I think we told each other that we . . . you know."

"Yeah.  In my dream, too.  We did tell each other."

Brian leaned his head against the side of the bed and kissed Josiah's hand
and began to sob.  "We're still alive, Josiah.  We didn't have to go
anywhere with each other.  Thank God it was only a dream and we're still
alive.  When we get out of this place, we'll go somewhere—just the two
of us so we can be together."

Josiah smiled through tear-filled eyes.  "Remember?  We're kind of like
brothers, aren't we?"

Josiah and Brian stayed silent for a long time, holding tightly onto each
other's hand.  Then Brian looked at Josiah and said, "And we're best
friends, too, aren't we Josiah?"

As they looked deeply into each other's eyes, the nurse came in announcing
that it was time for Brian to go back to his room for his medication and a
bath.


On August 15, Jeff and Paul drove Michael and Karl to the airport in San
Antonio for their flight to New York City.  Michael had rarely been outside
of Texas, and he felt a rare sort of exhilaration.  In a way, he felt like
a child going to a strange place and being under the protection and
guidance of his sophisticated and worldly-wise father.  Michael knew that
all he had to do was to put himself in Karl's hands completely, and
everything would be fine.

Karl had reserved a penthouse suite at the Plaza Hotel.  After checking in
at about 4:00 in the afternoon, they rode to the top floor in the elevator.
Michael was wearing his cowboy boots and hat. A rather tall and portly
gentleman, who was also on the elevator, looked Michael up and down and
said, "Hey there.  Y'all from Texas?"

Karl made an effort to put aside his English accent and answered the
question in his best Texas drawl.  "Yup!  We sure are!"

"Well I'll be!  I'm up here from Dallas on business.  Hey, you here on
business?"

"Yup!  We sure are!"

"Hey, it's a great town to come and get away from the old lady.  Hey,
there're always a lot of Texas dudes here at this hotel all the time.
Whenever I come up here we all get together and find us some fresh meat and
have ourselves a real party.  Hey, why don't y'all come along with us
tonight.  We know where the cunts are.  Hey, how `bout it?"

It was the portly man's floor.  As he stood in the doorway on his way out,
he said, "Hey, how `bout it?  You dudes lookin' for a little action?"

Karl held the door open for the portly man and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but
me and this here pretty young guy I'm with just got married this afternoon,
and we're on our way to our honeymoon suite."  Then turning to Michael, he
said, "And we're going to have some real action of our own, aren't we
sweetie?"  Holding the door open with his foot, Karl planted a big, wet,
open-mouthed kiss on Michael's mouth.  As the portly man stood outside the
elevator and stared in disbelief, Karl allowed the door to slowly close.

Karl had ordered Champagne, which had already been delivered and was on
ice.  After unpacking and hanging up their clothes in the closet, Karl and
Michael sat on either ends of an enormous sofa, which faced a large window
overlooking Central Park.

Karl poured a glass of bubbly for each of them and held up his glass.
"Here is to my beloved Michael Walker, who is, and always will be, the
light of my life.  I pledge to you my undying love for ever and ever."

Michael tried to smile, but tears began running down his cheeks.  There had
never been a moment since the day he first laid eyes on Karl that he was
not consumed with an overwhelming love for him.  Even when he realized that
Karl had engaged in several dalliances, his love remained strong.  He was
deeply moved by Karl's toast and felt that he was now expected to raise his
own glass to Karl.

"Well, Karl, here's to the man of my dreams, the man who I have come to
love more than I ever thought possible.  As long as you want me, and as
long as I live, that love will never die."

Now it was Karl's turn to get teary-eyed.  They put their glasses down on
the coffee table, moved closer together and hugged, both pressing their
tear-moistened cheeks together.  Pulling back slightly, they looked into
each other's tear-filled eyes for a long time—eyes that expressed a love
for each other that no words could ever express.  They leaned their heads
back on the high back of the sofa and spoke softly to each other of their
love, touching each other's face gently, tenderly kissing each other's
lips, eyes, nose, and ears.  They were lost in a time warp.  Outside the
window, the blue sky had turned to a red sunset, with the trees of Central
Park taking on an orange hue.  But now night had fallen and all that were
visible were the lights of New York.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  It was Room Service delivering the
lavish meal that Karl had ordered.  A table was moved to the center of the
room and quickly set with tablecloth, china, and silverware.  As Michael
and Karl took their seats across the table from each other, Michael noted
that the room service waiter was a handsome young man with black hair that
fell boyishly over his deeply tanned forehead.  His face was finely
sculpted, punctuated with two deeply cut dimples and full sensuous lips.
His hands were thin and graceful with long slender fingers.  As he bustled
about serving first the Salmon Bisque, then the salad and the main course
of Lobster Tails, Michael glanced frequently at Karl.  Never once did
Michael catch Karl even so much as trying to catch a glimpse of the waiter
or his beautiful hands as they flashed and darted before their eyes as he
worked.  Karl even spoke to the waiter several times about the meal, but
never looked at him.  Michael felt a little uneasy finding himself
wondering if Karl would show an interest in the waiter.  But after all,
this vacation was supposed to establish the trust that Karl was so anxious
about.  How better to establish that trust than to observe Karl as he was
put to the test.

When it was time for desert, the waiter returned to the room with a
magnificent Baked Alaska for each of them.  Keeping his eyes on Michael,
Karl said, "Waiter, would you pour the coffee, please."

As soon as the waiter departed, Michael said, "Karl, did you notice how
handsome our waiter was?"

"Of course, I did.  I'm not blind.  Why do you ask?  Are you interested in
him?"

Michael stammered, "No, I'm not interested in him.  But I wondered whether
you . . . ."

"You wondered if I might like to run down the hall after him and have a
quick fuck in the linen closet and be back here almost before you noticed I
was gone.  Right?"

"No, Karl, I didn't think that . . . ."

Karl reached over and took Michael's hand.  "That's alright, I know what
you were thinking.  But we're here for me to prove to you that it ain't
gonna be that way no more."  Then speaking very slowly while looking deeply
into Michael's eyes, he said, "I was frightened to death, if you want to
know, when you turned your back on me in our . . . or rather your room
after you saw me and Tony.  I felt like I was dying.  I felt like my life
was ending.  I can't explain to you what a horrible feeling came over me.
It hit me for the first time what a idiot I was to think I could be so
careless with your love.  My dear, dear, sweet Michael.  All that is over
now.  I can now see how fragile and what a treasure a person's love is.
Your love for me is the greatest treasure I could ever have.  And that
waiter can go find his own pleasure somewhere else."

Michael leaned over and kissed Karl's hand.  "Karl, I never thought you
were careless about my love for you.  I never felt for a moment that you
didn't love me.  I just knew there was a little . . . you know
. . . problem we had to deal with.  And I think we have.  And you know
what?  I think I'm ready to go home now.  And by the way, it's not my room.
It's our room, Karl."

Still holding onto Michael's hand, Karl led him into the bedroom.  Standing
next to the bed, he said, "Remember, I told that old slob in the elevator
that this was our honeymoon?  You know, you and I never had anything like a
honeymoon, did we?  Why don't we do something I've heard newlyweds do on
their wedding night?  Why don't we just undress each other very slowly
before we go to bed.  That way, we can gradually get acquainted with each
other's bodies for the first time now that we're married.?

"Oh," said Michael with mock surprise.  "Is there some part of your body I
haven't gotten acquainted with?"

"Well, no.  But can't you pretend?  We're supposed to be on our honeymoon,
Michael!"

With a big grin on his face, Michael started unbuttoning Karl's shirt.
Still standing, they slowly removed each other's clothing, piece by piece,
kissing each other's body as each item came off.

Both standing naked next to each other in front of a full length mirror,
Michael, now in a rather silly mood from too much Champaign, said with a
smile, "Which one of us is the bride and which is the groom?"

"Fuck the bride," said Karl, "Let's just say the groom ran off with his
best man."

"Okay.  So which one of us is the groom and which is his best man?"

"Well, Michael, since you insist on knowing—you're my best man, so that
makes me the groom."

"But you're my best man, so doesn't that make me the groom?"

"Oh, Michael!  Who cares!  We're both grooms and we're both best men!
Okay?"

Michael quickly lay down on his back, with his head off of the side of the
bed.  "Karl, come over here.  If I'm supposed to get acquainted with your
body, I think I'd like to get acquainted first with that little mysterious
dark region down where your two legs come together.  Please stand over my
head so I can get a good look."

Karl stood next to the bed with Michael's face pressed up into his crotch,
moist with sweat accumulated since his shower that morning.  Michael could
feel the dampness on Karl's thighs pressing in on his cheeks.  First
running his tongue over the soft fleshy part of Karl's upper inner thighs,
Michael sucked on the mass of kinky hair that cover's Karl's ball sack.
Then chewing lightly on the scrotum, Michael rolled each testicle gently in
his mouth and between his teeth.  Pushing his face tighter into Karl's
crotch, his tongue fought its way through the jungle of thick hair that
filled Karl's ass trench.  As always, Michael found the musky, masculine
aroma of Karl's crotch almost unbearably sensuous.  Finding Karl's very
tightly puckered hole, Michael licked and blew on it.  The coolness that
Karl felt on his hole from Michael's blowing on it made him shudder.

Michael could feel Karl's asshole loosening up slightly as he pushed his
tongue into Karl's rectum.  Karl was always able to loosen his hole like
that as he felt something—a dildo, a tongue, a penis—trying to enter.
Michael always regarded it as such an inviting gesture.

While Michael was tongue-fucking that inviting asshole, Karl was stroking
his rock hard cock.  Michael warned, "Don't cum yet, Karl.  Get on the bed
so we can cum together."

Karl threw Michael's legs in the air, exposing Michael's ass hole.  Karl
proceeded to give Michael's penis, balls, asshole, and entire crotch area a
thorough tongue bath.  Then lying down beside each other in a 69 position,
they slowly sucked each other's cocks.  After forty-five minutes of sucking
and licking and kissing each others genital area, Michael said, "I can't
hold it another minute!  I can feel my orgasm building in my balls.  I
don't think I can hold back.  I'm gonna shoot, Karl!"

"I can't hold it either, Michael.  So let it go!"

Both Michael and Karl bucked their hips and groaned loudly.  As each felt
the indescribable feeling of each surge of their own orgasm, they each felt
the throbbing of the other's penis in his mouth as they were flooded with
each other's hot thick sperm.

As their orgasms slowly subsided, they caressed each others legs.  They
soon decided to take a shower together.  Even though the room was well
air-conditioned, they were sweating profusely, and their hair was wet with
sweat.  The shower room was a large one, and Karl laid towels down on its
floor.  Being in a rather weakened condition, they both sat on the floor
and let the water pour over them.  They lathered each other up and washed
each other as though they were helpless infants.  It was not long before
their hard-ons had returned and they watched each other as they jacked off
and once again shot a load of sperm.

It was not until ten o'clock the next morning before they awoke.  Propped
up on one elbow, Karl looked down on Michael's sleepy face.  "Do you still
want to go home?  We still have several days left on our hotel
reservation."

Michael reached up and brushed Karl's curly black hair out of his eyes.  "I
think so, Karl.  I'm not a big city boy, as you know.  I would really like
to go home to the ranch now where we can be in our own house and our own
bed.  I know you planned a big nice vacation for us, Karl.  But it's been a
day and a night I'll always remember.  I really want us to go home now
where we belong."

Karl leaned over and kissed Michael long and deep.  Finally, he smiled at
Michael and said, "I want to go home, too.  That's where my home is, too.
I no longer belong in New York."

After breakfast, Karl arranged with the airline to change their tickets to
an afternoon flight back to Texas that day.


Adriano had just returned to his office from a day's work in the lab when
the phone rang.  It was Charlie Lipton.

"Adriano?  This is Charlie.  Remember you gave me your card and said you'd
give me a tour of your facilities at the University.  I'd really like to
take you up on that.  Would you be free sometime this week?"

Adriano's heart seemed to jump into his throat.  He had not expected that
Charlie would ever call, even though he had been hoping he would.

"Of course, Charlie," responded Adriano.  "It's so nice to hear from you.
I have classes tomorrow morning, but I should be completely free tomorrow
afternoon.  Why don't you come by my office at the Science Faculty Office
Building at about one o'clock, if that would be convenient."

"It sure would be," said Charlie.  "I'll be coming from Fort Stockton, so
I'll come in my car instead of on my bike.  It's a little too far.  But
that doesn't mean that I'm not going to get you to take a ride with me on
the bike.  That's still a deal."

"Yeah, Charlie.  It's still a deal.  But as I said before, it's only a
tentative deal.  Drive carefully now, and I'll see you around one o'clock."

When Charlie arrived at his office, Adriano was once again stunned at the
handsomeness of this young man.  As he removed his wide-brimmed cowboy had,
his light brown hair, bleached blond in places by the sun, fell casually
over his forehead.  He had on a pair of jeans that held in one of the
tiniest pair of hips Adriano had ever seen, as well as two buns shaped like
musk melons, and were tight enough to show that Charlie possessed two
beautifully shaped muscular legs, as well as a fairly large package between
them.  He wore a western style, long sleeved shirt, with sleeves rolled up,
and unbuttoned far enough down from the neck to reveal a very full muscular
hairless chest.  His face was quite tan and rather rugged looking, with
brilliant blue eyes framed with almost unnaturally long thick eyelashes.

When Charlie shook hands, he clasped Adriano's thin and rather graceful
hand with both of his, and ran his fingers over Adriano's knuckles as
though he enjoyed feeling Adriano's skin.  Adriano was clearly smitten by
Charlie, who stood almost six inches taller than he.  Adriano walked
Charlie through the labs and cages, and took him out to the University
Farms to view some of the animals.  He was able to stretch a tour that
would normally take no more than an hour to more than four hours.  Charlie
was one of those types who liked to touch people and pat them on the arm or
shoulder as he spoke to them.  Adriano felt twinges of electricity at every
one of Charlie's touches.

The time finally came when Adriano could no longer stretch out the tour.
He asked Charlie if he would like to stay in town for dinner.  But Charlie
declined, saying that he had friends back in Fort Stockton who he had
arranged to be with that night.  When Adriano extended his hand to his
handsome visitor, Charlie pulled him close to him and hugged him tightly
patting him on the butt.  Adriano felt himself being pressed so close to
Charlie that he knew there was no way Charlie could not feel his hard-on
bulge pressing against him.  And when Charlie released him, Adriano could
see that Charlie had developed an enormous bulge of his own.

"Now, Adriano," said Charlie, "I'm gonna call you in a couple of days, and
we're gonna arrange for you to come on over to Fort Stockton so I can give
you that ride of a lifetime.  Remember!  I have a promise from you."

"Well Charlie, I can make it over there only on weekends.  Maybe the next
weekend or the one following, I'll get a motel room."

Putting his arm around Adriano's shoulder, Charlie said, "No way, little
buddy!  There's no point in wasting money on a motel.  You're gonna stay
with me.  I've got a nice apartment with a balcony overlooking a great view
of the hills.  So that's where you're gonna stay.  I'll call you in a
couple of days."

Adriano almost thought he was dreaming.  He went home to his apartment and
made himself some supper.  Every time he thought about how Charlie had
pulled him close and he could feel his hard-on pressing against Charlie's,
his penis would get hard again.  While he ate at his kitchen table with one
hand, he was rubbing his cock with the other.  It was just too much.  He
pulled his pants down to his knees and stood up and jacked off right there.
It took him only several strokes to cum, and he shot his sperm onto the
table cloth.  For the rest of the evening, he thought about Charlie.  He
took his shower before going to bed and, as he lathered up, he had another
hard-on, and another orgasm.  He went to bed and slept until about 3:00
a.m.  Waking up again with another erection, he jacked off again, and
produced another load.  There had been very few times in his twenty-seven
years that he had been able to cum that often in so short a time.

Adriano thought about how odd it is sometimes how two strangers come to
meet each other.  Meeting Charlie was truly serendipitous.  Adriano smiled
to himself and felt a warm glow when he thought, "And he called me `little
buddy.'  Wow!"


This is Chapter 21 of "My Father, My Son."  All comments and suggestions
are welcome.

Send to: tombor99@excite.com