A Second Chance
(Copyrighted by the author)
Editor: Radio Rancher
This is a story of love between two men. As such there is some sex but it is really more about their relationship. If you're into romance, I hope this story pleases you.
The following story has to do with graphically explicit sexual descriptions of sexuality between consenting adults. It is intended for the entertainment of mature adults, is entirely fictitious and is only intended to be a fantasy. The names are fictitious as well. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. If you are not at least 18 years old please do not read any further down in this story.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
I was just sitting there, daydreaming. 'It's good to be on Cowboy
again,' I thought, chuckling aloud. I felt so secure and
comfortable, and there was closeness to James when I was there.
Maybe it was the painting, maybe it was Cowboy, maybe it was just an
old man who didn't want to let loose of the past. For whatever
reason, I was happy and content.
Greg, hearing me chuckle, asked. "What are you laughing at, Charles?" He was thinking, 'Seems like the boss is in a good mood.'
I answered him, "Was just thinking about how delightful being on Cowboy again was, and the way that thought came across, was funny, so I laughed."
Carrie and Greg started laughing, and Carrie said, "Charles, THAT's funny." She seemed pleased to see me happy again, "It's enjoyable seeing you be yourself again, Charles; could it be someone special, like maybe, JC?" She was thinking to herself, 'Has to be. He's glowing tonight.'
Then Greg jokingly said, "You nasty old man, I know what you were thinking!" Then he started laughing again, almost uncontrollably. Getting his wits about himself, he continued, "Dinner should be ready soon, I hope; I'm starved!" He was trying to change the subject.
I replied, chuckling, "You people are something else; you're gonna' give this old man a heart attack." Come to think of it, it was rather funny, and I was hungry enough to eat a horse AND the buggy. Smiling at them, I wondered when Clyde would have dinner ready.
It wasn't long, and, with a serious but congenial expression, Clyde announced, "Dinner ... is served!"
We always had our meals in the conference room, and we were treated with an exquisite meal. First, we had a wonderful Chef's Salad with choice of dressing, than fillet mignon cooked to perfection. Baked potatoes with sour cream, chives and butter, candied carrots, with a wonderful Chardonnay wine, followed by a delightful bread pudding. Whenever it was just my guys and gals aboard, we all ate together, including Richard and Clyde. I always enjoyed Clyde's company and wanted him to feel he was part of my crew; yes, my close circle of employees, I considered my crew.
After dinner, sitting around a table, I started talking about my brief meeting with JC. "I know most of you are interested in knowing what happened last night between JC and myself." 'Now, what do I tell them?' I was wondering. "Well, first off, JC is David's estranged son; anyway, that's the way it appears to me, at least after talking to him yesterday. I could be all wrong there, but that's something I hope to find out the next time we meet. Now, how do I know that? Well, it's a good guess, I assume. JC recognized me somehow, as James' partner ... as in ... 'marriage'; not ... as business partners. He started to open up a little about his father, and his father's hatred for homosexuals."
Greg asked, "How did he know you were James' life partner?"
I began to answer Greg's question, "I don't really know yet; it hasn't come up . . . "
Greg interrupted saying, "So, how does he feel about you, Charles?" He was thinking to himself, 'God, dummy, let him tell his story and quit interrupting.' Then he said, "Sorry, Charles, for the interruption."
I said, "That's all right, Greg. Well, to tell the truth, I called him 'my son' last night; it just slipped out, but it's kind of how I feel right now." During the following lull in the conversation, I thought about how I was going to say something, and then I said, "The strange thing was, that he called me his uncle by marriage, asking me if he could call me Uncle Charlie; of course I told him he could." I had a calm, wonderful smile on my face, and they all noticed it.
Carrie spoke, "Do you think of him as your son, Charles?" She
thought to herself, 'Why would Charlie think of JC as his son? Is it
because he looks so much like James, or could it be just his age?'
In answering Carrie, I said, "I guess it's because James and I wanted to adopt, but never got around to it, and the legal part of that was never looked into." Then I thought, 'Oh, how I wish we had; I could be a father to someone. However ... is there something else here? Oh, no, can't be, and if there were, he would never, no never...' Then, interrupting my own thought, I began speaking again, saying, "Then again, I might be, because of his age; God, I have to be thirty to thirty-five years his senior." I became lost in my own thoughts. 'God, that alone would be a turn off for him, it can't have been sexual; it has to be that of wanting a father or uncle,' and I came back to reality when Richard began to stand.
Richard got up saying, "Well, I'm sorry, folks, I have work to do, if you all want to get home." Then he turned and headed for the flight deck.
Then jokingly, but yet with respect, we all spoke, saying something similar to, "See you later, Captain."
Then Greg asked, "When are you going to see him again, Charles?" You could tell he was deep in thought, thinking, `There was more to those looks between the two of them, going into Paris, than father and son. Something's not on track here. Charlie must be having second thoughts.'
I answered, "Whenever he calls me. I told him to call me anytime, anywhere in the world, and that I had a couple 737's at my disposal, so you folks be ready when he calls." I was laughing, but with a sincere gleam in my eyes.
Everyone spoke in at once, "We will Charlie; you just say the word."
I smiled at them all and said, "You're all great, and I just knew you'd agree. Now, back to business; what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" I asked, not knowing what Greg and Carrie were up to. They were pretty much free to run the company as they deemed necessary, in everyday normal things; however, major decisions were mine alone. They'd been doing it for about ten years, and hadn't screwed up yet.
They looked at each other, then Greg replied, "Nothing for you to be concerned about, Charles. Take a break and enjoy the ranch." Greg was thinking, 'I just know he'll be pacing the floor, waiting for JC to call; there's much more going on in his head than what was said here, aboard Cowboy.'
I said, "Ok, I'm going to go have a long hot bath, and just relax a bit before turning in for the rest of the trip . . . Please wake me when we get within thirty minutes of Casper."
I went back to the master bedroom, got undressed, stood in front of the mirror, naked, thinking, flexing my arms, and tightening my abdominal muscles so I could see my somewhat flat tummy. I was just a little too old for six-pack abs, but this old man was in pretty damn good shape for being sixty-five.
I turned on the hot water to fill the Jacuzzi. After seeing JC, it had stirred old memories and made me think of how wonderful it would have been if James could only have been there with me. Even there, filling the Jacuzzi and thinking about him, brought back fond memories. Not only that, but any thought of him naked also stiffened my manhood to a throbbing erection, which I gently stroked, thinking of my cowboy; yes, even thirty-something years after his ... 'accident' ... memories of him could still excite me. On many a night, I have lain in a hot bath and become fully aroused, just thinking of him. Seeing JC seemed to have stirred the old passions. For those few minutes, thousands of feet in the dark, nighttime sky, I'd be thinking of my love as I relieved the tension that was so excitedly standing proud.
After I relieved the tension, I took a quick shower. I got into the king size bed, naked for the first time in many years. It felt so strange. I missed something, so I took a pillow and curled up, holding it like a baby, dreaming it was someone else, still so dear to me. It felt wonderful.
It only seemed like a few minutes. Clyde came into the bedroom, put his hand on my shoulder and shook me gently, till he saw that I was awake; then he told me, "Charles, we'll be arriving in Casper in about thirty minutes. Would you like something to eat before we make final approach?"
I stretched my arms and my back, saying, "Thanks, Clyde, if you picked up some of that good French pastry while we were in France ... then, yes, I would ... very much. I'll have a Danish and coffee for breakfast," I know Clyde ... he's got a box full out there; we've never made a trip to France that we don't come back with a bunch of it.
I got up, looking at my watch; my God, it was only 1:00 A.M., and I knew the jet lag would be terrible; it felt like it should be eight o'clock in the morning. I got dressed and headed out to the lounge, finding Greg, Carrie, Carl and Clyde, all sitting there with coffee and a big box of pastries in the middle the table. I said, "Well, I see I was the last one up again; is that by design, or are all of you conspiring against me?" My smile turned into laughter.
They all looked up at me and started laughing. Carl spoke, "Good morning, sleepyhead!"
Carrie stammered, "It's okay boss; you need your beauty rest at your age."
Jokingly, giving them a matter of a fact look, I said, "That's OK, you smart alecks. You'll all get here inevitably." Then I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat, finding my favorite sweet roll.
The overhead speakers beeped, and then Richard began to speak, "OK, you cowboys ... and cowgirl ... we're on final approach into Natrona County International Airport, Casper, Wyoming. Time to buckle up back thar; it's a rather chilly thirty-eight degrees on the ground."
I just chuckled, saying aloud, "Richard -- he just thinks we're a flock of geese, not knowing where we are, or it's just the ... uhh ... Captain, in him, forgetting he's not flying for United Airlines any more."
"Carl," I said, "why don't you take Greg and Carrie home first? Then you can take Clyde and me out to the ranch. Then you're free for the day, unless something unsuspected comes up. Of course, you know that." I gave him an evil grin.
We could tell the flaps were being lowered, as we felt cowboy putting on the brakes. It was still a strange feeling ... almost like you're just hanging in mid-air, stopped. We knew we were, at last, on final approach.
I told Greg to get us cleared with U.S. Customs, and meet us in the hanger. Greg replied, "No problem, Charles, all taken care of." He must have been thinking, 'Not! But would be, as soon as we stopped rolling.'
We kept each jet in one of the two hangers we had built in Casper; they weren't cheap, but neither were the jets. The hangers were for whenever we needed major maintenance like we had just completed. The odds of that happing are strange, to say the least, but thank God, both planes were in need of it. Or I would never have found JC. We took them to Denver, Colorado, where Delta Airlines maintenance would completely service them for us, but for minor maintenance, our own aviation department has a couple of good jet mechanics on duty; they also helped at the Casper Airport if needed.
We were thinking of putting Wyoming's 'Bucking Bronco' on the tail surfaces, after Doug McKenney could check out the legal implications.
Then we could see the city lights, as we felt the wheels touch down, and then for the real breaks, slowing us down almost to a creep, before turning onto the taxiway, and finally, on into the general aviation area of the airport. Carl got off first to get the van; then the rest of us got off; then the ground crew started unloading the cargo, and luggage. One of the company vans and drivers would deliver everything to the right locations later. Really, the only items I ever carried were personal items and my briefcase.
On the way to Greg and Carrie's home, we talked about some other projects we had in the works. Still, most of all, we talked about what I was going to do with JC. I just kept telling them that was all up in the air, at that moment.
"Charles, what are your feelings for JC? You seem so happy when you talk about him." Carrie had asked with concern. She was probably thinking, 'Was Charlie really looking at him as a son, a nephew, or something more?'
I sat there thinking for what seemed an eternity. In reality, it was probably no more than two minutes before I answered, saying, "He excites me; he makes something inside me come to life again; it's so hard to put my finger on what I really feel for him." Pondering over the question for a few more minutes, I said, "All I really know is, I feel him ... deep in my heart. He makes me want to live again. I'm afraid this old man is opening himself to something that will never come to pass."
Carrie reached over and took my hand squeezing it gently, saying, "Charles, my heart goes out to you, all I can say is, both Greg and I wish you the very best in whatever happens, and we want you to know that we will stand by you, no matter what the outcome." She was looking at me, and even in the darkened car, I knew they could see tears in my eyes; but I was certain that they were unsure whether they were tears of happiness, tears of joy, or...
I pulled myself together, saying, "Look -- all of you sitting here in this car right now -- as far as I'm concerned, JC is just an acquaintance. I met on a trip to France." 'God, I hope it's more,' I thought; 'but it can't be; he's gorgeous; so why would he even consider me as more than his Uncle?' "And until JC makes it different from that, that's all he will ever be -- just an acquaintance."
Greg spoke, saying in a friendly but sincere tone, "I know, Charles; we've pressured you tonight by asking too many questions that you really don't have the answers to. It'll stop now, and we will not discuss JC again until you feel comfortable with it." They really had been pressuring. I think Greg was thinking to himself, 'I think we're doing more harm than good.'
The others in the car agreed with him.
We arrived at Greg's house, dropped them off, and said our goodbyes. We all kind of spoke in unison, saying, "Be safe. We'll see you tomorrow."
Clyde spoke up, "Anything special you'd like for dinner today? I was thinking of a prime rib dinner; how does that sound?"
"Sounds scrumptious." He had my mouth watering already. I chuckled.
Approaching the ranch property, I saw the gates, and thought, 'It's always enjoyable to come home. More especially when it's this beautiful ranch.' I was pondering why in the world hadn't we ever run this place like a ranch. It had always just been a home. Over the years, we'd had a horse or two, a chicken or two, but never a cow or steer. That was nuts. We were sitting on ten thousand acres of fenced property, and the only thing that had ever being done there, was that we were leasing out cutting rights for the grass that grows. I made a mental note, 'Gonna do something about this. Even if I have to hire out the entire ranch crew, this place is going to turn into a working ranch.' Another mental note ... 'Have Greg get on this.'
Arriving at the house, I told Carl, "Be safe, and I'll call you when I need you; might even be a couple days, but don't go making permanent plans." I shrugged my head and smiled at him.
Carl spoke, "Okay, boss, I understand; just call when you need me!"
I replied with a grin, "Thanks, Carl."
I then told Clyde, "Clyde, I'm gonna get some more sleep, and if I were you, I'd get a few more hours, too." I knew he won't do it, but at least I tried.
I headed back to the bedroom, got undressed, and went back to bed, naked for the second time, in only a few hours. I said to myself, "I'm burning every pair of PJ's I own," thinking, 'Last night was the best night's sleep I've had since I started wearing those damned pajamas. So, another mental note ... trash them; no more PJ's!!!!!'
When I awoke, I though, 'First morning I've woken up feeling great in a long time. To be honest I can't remember when I felt this great before.' Checking the time, I discovered that it was one o'clock in the afternoon. 'God, I must've been tired.' So, I hopped out of bed, and went in and took a long hot shower. Then I got dressed casually, walked out into the kitchen, and found Clyde preparing dinner. The prime rib, though raw, looked delicious.
Clyde spoke up, "Would you like something to eat, Charles? I can fix you a brunch if you'd like, or anything else." He must have been thinking, 'He has to be hungry.'
I answered him, saying, "Well, if you could fetch me a couple eggs and some sausage or bacon, that would be good; I'm starving; it's been a long time since those Danish." And I was thinking, 'Wonder what Clyde would think of turning this into a fully operational ranch? I don't know if I could ask him to be a cook for that big an operation. I might just ask him to oversee it. Good idea Charlie!' And I started chuckling to myself.
While giving me a strange look, Clyde asked, "What are you laughing about?"
Smiling, I told him, "Clyde, what would you think, if I were to turn this place into a fully operational ranch?"
Clyde thought for a few minutes, then asked, "Are you serious, Charles?"
"Yes, I am," I answered with a warm smile.
Then Clyde really started thinking, waiting a few minutes, "Well ... if you're really serious, we would need to build some facilities other than this kitchen, because you have no place else to cook." He was wondering, 'Is he really serious? Can't be; can he?'
I stated, "I'm serious; I know we would have to build a bunkhouse and a dining room/kitchen combination of some type. Nevertheless, that wouldn't stand in my way. I just feel this place should be an operational ranch; it's gorgeous, beautiful, and I know my cowboy would've felt the same way." I then realized that I'd talked myself into it; "I'm going to do it!" I blurted out before Clyde had a chance to say anything else. "I've got to call Greg and set the wheels in motion."
Once I paused, Clyde said, with a look of interest, "Okay, boss, what do you want me to do?"
"Clyde, I want you to stay as my personal chef. I would never give you up. I would ask you to take on an additional duty of supervising a single chef/manager with a kitchen staff to handle it. I'm not speaking of you personally supervising on a day-by-day sort of thing. I would want you to supervise the chef/manager for the operation on part of the ranch, of course. There would be an increase in your salary, for the added responsibility." 'Anything else?' I wondered. "How do you feel about that?" I asked, with a look of confidence in him.
Clyde answered, "Charles, I would be happy to, if you think I'm up to the task." He was thinking, 'I'm amazed how this man can come up with these wonderful ideas spontaneously; I guess that's why he's worth what he is.'
I said with pride, "Why, of course, you are, or I wouldn't have asked you. Okay, Clyde, that settles it; the Lazy "L" from now on is going to be a full-fledged operational ranch!" 'I need to get a hold of Greg and Carrie and let them know what's up,' I immediately thought.
After I had eaten my brunch, I told Clyde, "I'll be in my office if you need me." I turned and walked down the hallway into my office.
I picked up the phone and called Greg. "I have something to discuss with you, is Carrie handy?"
"Yes, Charles, she's in her office; do you need her?" 'He's got something on his mind,' I could almost hear him thinking to himself.
"Yes, Greg, I would like both of you on the phone, so I only have to tell it once, please."
"Let me get her," Greg answered back.
Greg went to Carrie's office and told her, "Pick up line three; it's Charles; he wants us in a conference call."
She picked up the phone, "Hello, Charles; Greg will be on in a second when he gets back to his office." She must have been wondering, 'What does Charles have on his mind? The conference calls are not really common.'
"I'm back on the phone," Greg said, and then listened.
I began speaking, "Well, I just had an earth shattering revelation; you both know that this ranch has ten thousand acres, and all we do with it is to lease out the grass cutting."
Greg was thinking, 'What has Charlie got on his mind now!' just before he said, "Yes, Charles, we both know that."
Carrie replied at the same time as Greg was talking, "Yes I know that," and she was wondering, 'Where's this conversation going?'
I continued with, "Well, let me run this idea across your minds, and I want you to give it serious thought, okay? As we came home last night from the airport, I was thinking about the ranch, and how it's never been anything but a place to hang my hat, day and night. I've talked this over with Clyde, and he's willing to take on the extra duty of being a supervisor for a chef/manager of the kitchen staff running a bunkhouse for the Lazy "L" Ranch. I want to turn the Lazy "L" into a full-fledged and operational ranch." I could well imagine seeing them both picking their chins up off the floor. They began laughing out loud.
Greg was the first to respond as he asked, "Are you really serious, Charles?" I could just see him contemplating what was about to happen, not knowing where this came from, just knowing I was serious.
"Yes; are you serious, Charles?" Carrie also asked.
I answered, "I'm dead serious; I just don't want to see this beautiful ranch go to waste, when I think of all the beautiful horses we could be raising, and other livestock." I hoped that they understood; at least I thought they did. I'd just caught them by surprise.
Simultaneously, I heard both of them say, "Are you sure, Charles?"
I said seriously, "I'm sure! I think we need to start looking for some contractors to bid on a bunkhouse/ kitchen arrangement of some type that could handle it," I thought for a second, and then went on. "Let's say fifteen to twenty ranch hands, at the most."
Carrie asked, "How soon do we need to get some ideas together, and have a meeting to discuss these plans further?"
I replied, "I was thinking, Monday of next week. That gives us about four days, counting the weekend, to come up with some ideas. How does that sound to the both of you?"
"Okay by me," said Greg
"OK with me, too," said Carrie
"Okay! It's a done deal. We'll meet Monday afternoon; thanks for your support; it's most appreciated," I told them just before I hung up the phone.
I had just finished my round trip to Paris, and was now getting ready for the last flight of my schedule. We would be departing San Francisco in about thirty minutes for Honolulu on a 747, tomorrow. I would be returning on a flight from Honolulu to Denver, Colorado, on Saturday. That would end my shift, giving me a two-week break; I was planning on spending it in Casper, Wyoming, if Charles were there.
Ever since Charles and I hugged at the Paris airport, I'd had a strange feeling that there was something more to our relationship. I knew that when I asked him to be my uncle, I'd felt something stir inside me, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was; I thought it was more like love or something similar, but no, it couldn't have been; he would never have betrayed the love he had for James. I saw it shining in his eyes every time I mentioned James' name.
Between chatting with fellow crewmembers and other airport employees, and trying to think about my upcoming visit with Charles, time seemed to fly by. I needed to call tomorrow, no, today I needed to call Charles and let him know when I'd be available. Checking my watch, I knew that I didn't have time; I'd have to do that in Honolulu after we landed.
Our flight to Honolulu was tedious but enjoyable; of course, it could've been because my mind was definitely not on my duties; it was on my upcoming visit. That had my brain obscured, thinking of Casper, not knowing what to expect, I had no one in Tempe to go home to except my friends, but no one that I was close to. Upon arriving in Honolulu, we disembarked, and I headed for the hotel. Before settling down, I decided to go ahead and call Charlie. So I picked up the phone, thinking for a few moments of what to say or how to say it; my stomach felt like I was still at forty thousand feet. So I dialed the number and waited for an answer.
First, one ring, two rings, three rings, then finally, "Hello. Lambert and Lambert Investments; Greg speaking; how may I help you?"
"Is Charles Lambert there, please? This is JC Andersen calling."
"Oh, hello, JC; how are you today?" Greg answered.
I said, "I'm just fine, just trying to get a hold of Charles Lambert if he's available?" I was thinking, 'God, I hope he's there.'
Greg replied, "Let me transfer the call to the ranch. Charles should be there." While transferring the call, Greg thought, 'Charlie's gonna be thrilled with this call!'
I heard the phone click and then start to ring again. Someone answered, "This is Clyde speaking; can I help you?"
"Yes, please; I'm trying to get a hold of Charles Lambert, and Greg just transferred me to this number, is Charles there?" I asked, thinking again, 'Boy, he's hard to get hold of; then again, he IS the owner of a large company.'
Then I heard another click on the phone. "Hello. Charles Lambert here. May I help you?"
I sighed, then said, "Hello, Charles; this is JC Andersen."
I was shocked and had to think, 'Oh my God! JC's calling. Thank you, Lord, thank you.' My heart was fluttering. My mind was a blur. So I had to slow down before I opened my mouth. 'Think, stupid! Easy, Charles,' I thought to myself; 'he's not gonna run away.' My mind was obscured, not thinking clearly. And I guess it took me too long to respond.
I heard JC's voice on the phone again; "Charles ... are you there?"
I cleared my throat, and then begin to speak, "Sorry, JC, you just took me by surprise; I didn't expect your call so soon." 'Don't be so eager,' is all I could think. 'Slow down.'
JC, happy then, that Charlie was on the phone, said, "It's okay, Charles, or should I say, 'Uncle Charlie'? I like 'Uncle Charlie' better, if you don't mind?" He thought, 'I hope you don't mind; I really want a family.'
I grinned and said, "Of course, I don't mind. 'Uncle Charlie' is just fine," I wondered, what he had on his mind, and hoped he was about to take my offer.
JC continued, "Well, Uncle Charlie, I'll be returning from Honolulu on Saturday night and should be arriving in Denver at the international airport. That will end my shift, giving me a two-week break, and I'd like to take you up on your offer. I'd like to see Casper and your ranch, if that would be okay." He was thinking, 'Oh, I hope ... I want ... no, I NEED to see Charlie again; please say yes.'
I could hardly spit it out, but I asked, "Is it okay? Absolutely, it's okay! What time does your flight arrive in Denver?" I was trembling; I felt like a little kid, I was so excited, and a little voice was telling me, 'Easy, Charlie; just take it easy.'
JC answered, "Well ... they've scheduled the flight to land at 10:53 p.m., arriving Gate 32. Of course, you've been around commercial airlines before, so, you know that that time could fluctuate depending on weather conditions and flight traffic."
I said without hesitation at all, "That'll not be a problem, not a problem at all, but how far is Gate 32 from the General Aviation Terminal?" I was wondering how are we going to get him from his arrival gate over to the G.A.T.'
JC answered, "I don't know for sure, but I should be able to find out. But why would I need to get to G.A.T.?" Then he answered his own question to himself, 'You idiot! He's flying in from Casper to get me.'
JC spoke before Charlie could answer, "I'm an idiot; I forgot you'll be flying in to pick me up, won'tcha, Uncle Charlie?"
I quickly answered that silly question, "Stop that! You're by far, NO idiot! I will meet you at the G.A.T. at whatever time you get there. I'll be waiting." Oh, God, it would take a thundering herd of elephants to keep me away, but I don't think that even THEY could stop me from being there, waiting for him!
JC stuttered, "Well, I'm still sorry for asking what I did. I should've thought before I spoke, but really I don't think there will be a problem for me getting to General Aviation. Even if I have to ride the baggage train, I'll get there; I'm SO looking forward to this visit."
I assured him by saying, "There's nothing to be sorry for, JC. If you're half as excited as I am, we're no doubt, gonna say some things to each other that don't make even one tiny bit of sense, now and then."
JC said, "I can only foresee one problem. I really don't have anything decent to wear, 'cause I only packed a few ... and I emphasize ... a FEW ... civilian clothes, 'cause I'm in uniform most of the time. However, I'm sure there are some clothing stores that we can visit."
I smiled to myself in answering him, when I said, "That won't be a problem, either; your Uncle Charlie is gonna spoil you rotten these next two weeks." I think before he leaves, I'll take to my tailor and have some good clothes made for him. Yet ... we'll have to see.
"Well, okay, Uncle Charlie; I'll be looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night," JC said with a warm sincere voice.
"Me, too!" I told him.
With an almost apologetic, but warm, tone in his voice, JC asked, "You mind if I say goodbye? It's been a long flight, and I'm really tired. All I want to do now, is get a hot shower and crawl into bed." Visualizing JC naked and doing those simple every-day things, I thought, 'Don't go there, 'UNCLE CHARLIE'! ... That will never happen! Oh, how I would like that!' But I knew it could never be.
I nervously chopped my words as I replied, "Me? Mind? Never! I understand! You get a good night's rest. Sounds like you need one. I'll be seeing you tomorrow night in Denver." I half-way laughed to myself, thinking, 'Never! I'm too old for him;' then the guilty feeling swelled up in my heart, 'Oh, God; what is it? Something's wrong. Someday, I'll find out. Then I spoke again saying, "You're safe now; see you tomorrow night."
JC said softly, "I will be ... just for you, Uncle Charlie; see you tomorrow night." Then he hung up the phone.
Knowing the line was already disconnected, I just said, "I think I love you!" Then I hung up my phone.
To be continued...
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