Date: Thu, 5 Apr 2007 08:22:10 -0700 (PDT) From: Matthew Templar Subject: Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 7 Talk to me. I want to know what you're thinking when you read this. For those that are hurting, that have been abused or unloved, no matter what happens in this story, I would never, ever let one of my guys be mistreated. While this is fiction, consent is a key ingredient, surpassed only by love. I've heard from many who wish their story could be rewritten. It's not too late. *** All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. Furthermore, every word of this story is fiction. Nothing within this tale happened to anyone I know. Any reference to anyone, anything or any place, real, living or dead is coincidental. If there is someone that has written a law saying that you can't read this story because of age or local laws or other such 'wisdom', then you haven't really gotten this far into Nifty to read this anyway, right! Write to me with the date of your legal birthday and I will...Not! While the main thrust (try not to get excited by the graphic words before you even get to the story) of this work is not sex, there will be those times when it will occur between consenting adults and at least one consenting minor. There will never be a plethora of sexual trysts in this story. Though there will be some, I found myself caught up in the hearts of the characters, not their libidos. There will be a lot of bedroom scenes, but their emphasis will be on sleeping and waking and things like that, spiced occasionally with something to let the characters sleep more peacefully. I would also appreciate knowing if you are enjoying this story. I will answer all appropriate emails, but, thank you in advance for your time to write. Finally, there is not enough room to express my gratitude to Dwight Wilson for his dedication to resolving the problems I had with making legible sense out of this work and then encouraging me to hit the 'Submit' button. Read Brad's Idol in Adult/Youth and New Horizons in Authoritarian to know the experience he brings to my story. Your comments and suggestions are welcome. Matthew at matemp1148@yahoo.com Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 7 The next time I looked up from wherever we had been that bright light was flooding in from the window again, like the morning before. Almost all of the hurt was gone and I realized there was no pressure or sharp bones on top of me. It only took a second to realize that my warm bundle was as close to me as possible at my side, curled up and facing away. I couldn't get my arm out from under him and I had a hard time rolling over in that direction. I gave up because I didn't want to wake him. I didn't need to worry. I had help! "Rise and shine to a glorious morning, wee ones. Time to prepare for a wonderful day, full of bright shining faces and marvelous surprises." Now if that wasn't the voice of someone that 'got some' last night, I don't know what is. I shuddered when I thought about Nurse O'Hara going home with Dr. Owen, but I grinned when I heard that something in her voice. My little guy heard her voice too, only it made him curl up even more and groan. I was going to reach for the blanket but I was afraid that it would reveal a bit too much of Grant's and my condition in front of an otherwise, very understanding lady. "You seem to have gotten along okay throughout the night, isn't that so young David?" She was wandering around the room, opening the drapes, and grabbing clothes and such and taking them into the bathroom. She spent a few minutes, probably surveying anything that we or Clayton might not have cleaned up the night before. It seemed remarkable that no one ever said a negative thing about Grant and I being together all night in the same bed. I didn't even think too much about it until much later. I think everyone was still so relieved that the DeWitt feud was behind us. As I felt and heard more than saw, Nurse O'Hara flitting around the room at her tasks, humming as she finally left the room, I remembered something that Grant had said. His mother had died. Then, I wondered, who was that lady in the house yelling at him? Hadn't Sam called her Grant's mother? I looked over at the cherub that lay in total peace, next to me. I tried again to pull out my arm and, when I couldn't I decided to just keep pushing it around him. Soon I was surrounding him on my side, spooning again. Hm-m- m. Wonderful. "Yeah. I know," came a soft giggle from somewhere just under my chin. "Hm-m-m, I gotta pee." I could feel the guy trying to remove himself from my clutches and I didn't want him to go, so I held on a little longer. "David," came that whisper, mixed with a bit of concern, "I really gotta. You gotta let me go." "Can't we cuddle just an hour or so more?" I teased. Then the whole bed shook as he started to flail a bit more, become a lot more urgent in his quest for relief. "Don't do this," he pleaded, "And don't make me laugh." I moved to my back and, immediately, the sheet flew off and a pink body scurried to the bathroom door and went in just as Nurse O'Hara returned with two paper cups. "Well now, we'll just have to see about getting the heat turned up then," she said, nodding toward the top of the sheet that only came to my knees. My arms that had been under the back of my head, quickly responded to her continued jibe at the state of my affairs and covered up my most sensitive parts. I heard giggling coming from the other end of the room, toward the doors to the hall and bathroom, but I couldn't see Grant. It was also clear that it was two giggles, not one. Then I heard the toilet flush. That quickly removed one possibility. I looked over at my red headed nurse and scrunched up my nose as if to ask her what I'd heard. "Oh that!" she said in answer to my scrunch. "I've brought you a couple o' visitors. They've been enjoying the sounds coming from this room since yesterday and pleaded with me to see what kinds of animals were making such rackets. Well, hardly believing that only two wee people could make a hospital stand still by their shenanigans, I could hardly deny them their request now could I?" Then she leaned over me to quietly continue, "Their mummy and daddy were banged up pretty badly in a car accident and so the wee boys have been staying here until their cuts and bruises heal a tad bit too. They just lay in their room together, quiet as church mice until they start to think about what happened and start crying again. After a week of that, yesterday was the first time I saw either of them smile, and it was because of your playing with little Grant here." And just as she said that the bathroom door came open and Grant came out wearing a fresh pair of huge scrubs, consumed with his efforts to try to tie up the pants with one string. "Huh? What did I do?" He looked up to me and Nurse O'Hara from his task and stopped where he was. His hands were full of pants and the shirt was wafting over his arms making it almost impossible to see what he was doing. Clearly we were running out of our supply of scrubs in anything but a size gigantic. "You didn't do a blessed thing my little nymph," said O'Hara as she went to the boy, knelt in front of him and deftly completed his work. "You've only brightened the lives of two little ones that needed it very much." Having said that she nodded in the direction of the outer door and we heard a little more giggling. "Oh," said Grant as he cautiously approached the door and looked through to see the source of the levity without. He left my sight for a few seconds and I could just make out his voice talking very softly right outside the door. Every once in awhile it would be interrupted by more giggles. Finally, there were three distinct giggles and then silence. I found myself propping myself up on my elbows as if that would allow me to see around the door frame. The door was perpendicular to my line of sight so I could only see out a crack of the doorway. One more burst of giggles and Grant stepped into the door to announce, "May I present Dustin and Petey Hawes for your inspection, kind sir?" Then he did a huge bow that sent his shirt over his head until his bare back was exposed. It was clearly his intent and it worked. There were two wonderful, full laughs from the hallway, then, as Grant straightened and swept his arm toward their passageway two tiny little figures appeared. Okay they weren't tiny, tiny. But one was a head shorter than Grant and the other was just in between the two in height. They had on those gowns that were open in the back, jonnies, and were trying their best to walk very stately, as if they had practiced, with Grant's help, to look very regal. They took a few steps into the room and stood as if for inspection, right in front of Grant. One of them, the shortest, laughed into his hand and the other swiped at him to put his hand down. Then they both stood very straight and gave us the deepest bow from the waist that they could manage. I'm not sure if Grant could have envisioned the result of his prompting them to do that, but I wouldn't put it past him. As the two boys bent over with their heads almost touching the floor, their garbs immediately spread open and fell to their sides to reveal their totally naked backsides to anyone around them. There was no holding back. Nurse O'Hara and I both gasped and then laughed while Grant covered his mouth and pointed to his view of two tanned rumps in front of him. Slowly, as if having no conception of what had happened, two little faces looked up with wonderful grins, seemingly not caring if they were the brunt of the joke unfolding there. They straightened up and looked back to Grant to get his instructions. As I saw his look, it seemed to solidify my feeling that he knew exactly the outcome of their bow. His hand waved to send them scurrying toward the bed. I held out my hand as politely as I could to keep up with their play acting, after all, it made me the king or something. They looked up as if they weren't sure what to do. Finally, the taller reached up and I shook his cold hand. He pulled it back and we waited until the littler one got the hint. When he didn't, 'taller' elbowed him and he reached out for me to shake his little hand. It too was cold. "I think we need to provide some things for the waifs of my kingdom, knaves," I said, in a most proper, and what I thought was a very Shakespearian voice. All I got out of it were four, 'huh's. "Okay, okay. Grant get some scrubs to cover these tykes. I think just the shirts will let them swim enough. They won't need the pants." And Grant bowed to his king and went into the bathroom to rummage. "Nurse!" I said in my newfound voice of authority. I think it scared both our new friends and me, especially when we looked her way and saw that scowl that said she wasn't playing well with others. "Um, do you suppose we could get them, uh, us, some hot chocolates and have their breakfasts served in here, with Grant and me? Please?" She huffed and we were just about to cringe when she started to laugh at the sight she'd caused in front of her. "Of course you can. Anything for me wee charges. You take the fondest care of them until my return now," she said as she scooped up one, then the other to plunk them onto my bed. I'm afraid I might have reacted badly at first. My knees went flying up to my chest to protect what was left of the tattered two between my legs, a reaction that any man could appreciate, having gone through the misery of pointed contact the day before. I knew that, with good counseling, I'd be over that fear in a year or five. I looked up to see three astonished faces. None of them had witnessed my neutering the day before. The cause of my pain, though totally unknown to him, was walking toward the bed with his hands full of blue scrubs. "Oh. You can't blame him. He squished his balls yesterday." Ah, innocence. That bit of news now out in the open, Nurse O'Hara covered her mouth and rushed out of the room laughing, mostly to make sure the hot chocolate didn't get cold, I'm sure. My eyes rolled to the very back of my sockets and when they returned I had two very perplexed children staring at me. "Never mind guys. Tell me whose who. Which of you is Dustin?" "I'm Dustin," said the oldest, holding up his hand in case I couldn't tell who was speaking. I gave him a nod and looked at the other at my knees. His head was shyly down so I reached out and lifted his chin just a bit before I said, "I bet that makes you Petey, huh?" He just nodded as his brother piped up, "Uh-huh! He's Petey. He's five. I'm eight." "Pleased to meet you guys. I'm David and this is Grant. First things first. Let's get you properly covered so your hind ends don't freeze off." That got three blasts of giggles from my subjects. Grant handed me a shirt and I unfolded it and helped Dustin put it over his other useless piece of cloth. It came down to just below his butt so that it covered up everything nicely. But then he reached up inside, pulling up his shirt in front, and was doing something until the other thing fell away and his arms came back down to his sides. "Much better, Dustin. How about you, Petey?" So Petey stood up, reached up and pulled off the garb that didn't cover him anyway, leaving him standing there in the altogether. I think I might have gasped but I quickly realized that it hadn't fazed Grant or Dustin for a second. He was just standing there, naturally waiting for the next step. What was in front of me was a skinny little guy that would be almost impossible to tell from a little girl if it hadn't been for a tiny little bump between his legs. There was almost no sign of any testicles. I'm sure they were lurking inside for the warmth they needed to survive. He also had a golden tan on every inch of his perfect little body that I could see. Calmly, Grant handed me the next scrub shirt and I unfolded it and then bunched it up around the neck hole to drop it over Petey's punkin' head. As I let it go, it unraveled down his body, over his shoulders and fell into a heap at his feet. We were taken back for a second until Petey calmly reached down and pulled it up to his waist. That caused the rest of us to break out in laughter and caused a confused Petey to drop his shirt and stick his thumb in his mouth and use his other hand to play with his belly button. That made me laugh a little more, but I realized that I was supposed to be the adult here too. In a few minutes I had two equally naked boys on my bed as I tried to switch their shirts. I checked and saw that Dustin's was smaller than the one Grant had given to me for Petey. I also looked over at Grant to see that mischievous grin that said this was no accident. I smiled back in appreciation for his jest and slowly moved to cover up my two new charges. It gave me the opportunity to see these two beauties for a few more seconds. They were beautiful and completely tan. Just as they were covered and Petey's shirt only slipped off one shoulder I heard orders given to carry the trays into our room. With that fence thing lowered at the side of the bed (it had been down almost since I was there) it was easy for the four of us to sit up over the edge of the bed and enjoy our French toast with lo-cal syrup, fruit cups and choice of milk, coffee or tea. Of course, the guys also got hot chocolate, courtesy of our favorite red headed nurse. Okay, so did I. The banter between Grant and our two new friends was fun to follow. It got a little shaky for Dustin when they talked about the reason they were in the hospital in the first place. Both boys knew that their mommy and daddy would be okay but that it would take some time. Dustin talked about how there was nothing to do but watch TV, and then he described the noises he heard next door; our room. "It was like bein' back home. Dad would get on his knees in the middle of the living room and start swinging his arms. Then we'd try to get to him but he'd knock us over every time until we laughed so hard we couldn't even stand up." "Yeah. He's funny too. And he tickles us, huh Dustin?" Petey said, adding his two cents worth. "Yeah, he sure does Petey," said Dustin pulling his brother closer and hugging him. Oh, it clearly wasn't to comfort Petey. It was for Dustin's sake. You could see big wet eyes forming, but just before they ran down his face Grant piped up with, "So you heard us doin' all sorts of that over here too, huh?" What a champ. His timing was right on. Dustin and Petey both laughed and started telling their versions of what they heard at the same time. It was mayhem to try to pick out but it was glorious to know that they were consumed by those thoughts and not of the pain that kept their family apart from each other just then. Grant looked over at me with both hands up as if to confirm that there may be no stopping the two chatterboxes. I didn't think it was a problem. I was beginning to like the sound of small voices. Just hearing them was making me feel more energy, stronger than the day before. It was like an intravenous flow of life right into me. The drawback was I wanted to get out of there. "Who likes to draw, my wee ones?" an Irish alto said to at least two of the boys. I don't think Grant would admit to being a wee one at all. She came into the room with a basket that had crayons and white copy paper and what looked like two or three old coloring books. She set them down on the floor and made her retreat before I could ask her about how much longer my sentence was before I could see the parole board. Grant remained on the bed long enough for dust to settle from O'Hara leaving. Then he made a beeline to the basket that was being emptied by the littler artists. It was fun to watch each of them project themselves into their work so individually. Little Petey grabbed a color and a piece of plain paper and started drawing in the middle of the page. He must have decided the color wasn't bold enough and dug around until he found a deep purple. Soon he was back at his masterpiece, until, "I gotta go!" he exclaimed to everyone on the floor, no the whole floor of the hospital, and jumped up and ran into the bathroom. The two others didn't even look up. Dustin was still leafing through a coloring book. He had tossed a Barbie one aside and was looking through a Tweety and Sylvester one. Some of the pages were already colored. Finally he made his choice and spread out on his stomach to start his work. But Grant was different. This was obviously no game to him. I didn't realize it at the time. I just saw him going through some motions. I didn't give him credit for what he tried to accomplish. He grabbed two or three sheets of paper and a few colors that he selected carefully. Then he sat up and looked around for a second. When he found what he sought he got to his feet. He was looking at the dresser-like table on the wall but he walked to the window ledge. Oh. He set the colors and paper down and went over to the table. He moved all of the dirty dishes that were on one tray to another until the first tray was free of anything. He picked it up, turned it over to inspect the bottom and walked over to the window ledge and sat down. Now he had a table to set on his knees. I assumed he wanted better light by sitting in the window, so I just turned back to watch the two little guys and their play with the colors. It must have been very restful because I was soon drifting in and out of the most satisfying slumber. There was just enough whispering and paper sounds to lull me to Neverland. It was the doctor's voice that brought me around. I couldn't hear what he was saying because he was in the next room. I did hear the shuffle of paper and the clamber of naked feet running from under me to the door and out; a couple of giggles marked their exit with a satisfaction for me. I knew we would be together again. I looked at the window and didn't see Grant. I sat up just bit on one elbow to better see my vast domain. There he was; conked out on the chair, one leg over the arm and his head back and mouth open. It warmed me to know that in several years he would be able to rouse the whole wing with a stereotypical man's snoring. But right then, I got to witness my angel enjoying a dream or two. I glanced back to the window seat and saw his crayons and two pieces of paper but not the one he had started before I dozed. I looked around some more and saw a piece of white paper on the meal table next to me. I settled back and reached for the paper to see what Grant had accomplished. Across the top, in pretty neat lettering it read simply, "David." In the bottom corner was his signature, just like any good artist would have done. But in the middle was me! I was stretched out in bed and I could swear my mouth was open. It wasn't the most perfect drawing. I had done some artwork in high school and college and enjoyed it very much. I would have liked to continue it if my dad hadn't...but this was about Grant's art. He would be very good one day. He had a sense of proportion and an eye for detail. He kept his focus on the main subject, me, and he roughed in the bed and sheets. He was very good. I hoped he knew it. I would certainly say something. Encouragement for any art work, writing, drawing painting, theater was essential to a gifted and promising artist. I wouldn't let the same thing happen to him that had happened to me by my dad. God! There I was again; complaining about my father. I put the artwork back to allow him to show me when he wanted. "David," came the voice of the doctor, thankfully interrupting my self indulgent thoughts of remorse. "Are you ready to vacate the premises, young man?" "Oh, doctor," I answered, "you have no idea. As nice as everyone has been, and as restful as it's been, I am more then ready to depart these walls." "Then I'll have the front desk write up your 'Skedaddle' papers." "Yahoo!" came a scream from the chair to my side. "You get to come home. Yippee!" I guess Grant was getting tired of the place too. The doctor was chuckling at Grant's outburst and shaking his head. "I'll have a nurse come in and anoint you one more time before you go. Then I'll send a prescription for more ointment with Russ when he comes to gather you up." As he turned to leave Grant jumped up and tapped Dr. Owen's arm. "Um, sir?" he started, "um, I'd like to put it on him if you will let me. That way I'll know how to do it when we get him home to Grampa's. I'll do a good job. I won't miss a speck of burn places." "Well son, I can't ask for a better assistant than that, now can I? Here's the ointment. Go lightly with it and tell me if there are any spots that look like they are still bright red and sore." He handed Grant a long box that he'd taken from his smock. "We'll come by in an hour to see how your new nurse did, David. Oh, here's a pair of gloves, Nurse Grant." He walked over to the wall by the bathroom and pulled out a pair of latex gloves from a slot there. He handed them to Grant. Grant pulled them on as best he could. Of course the fingers drooped down on both hands as he tried to scrunch them to his palms. It was pretty funny looking. He held up his droopy hands beside each other in the classic 'just scrubbed and ready for surgery' look (that may not be the official term). "And I'll be doing a fine job for me wee young man. You can count on it mister doctor sir." His imitation of O'Hara was priceless. Both the doctor and I lasted for about ten seconds until we burst out laughing at my new nurse's antics. "You'd better watch yourself, Podunk, or you'll find yourself in traction if the red head finds out what you're about." Grant gave a scrunched up look like he didn't know the meaning of traction. So the doctor twisted up his arms and then, shot them out from his body and made them bounce in thin air like they were hanging from wires. While his display was totally opposite of what I would expect from the fine doctor it was a perfect description for Grant who just nodded like he understood now. I was roaring. It was too funny. If that wasn't funny enough, who should come in just then but the Irish Nightingale herself. The doctor and I busted up again as Grant ho-hummed his way to the bedside, the perfect angel of innocence, ha! "Something's up in here, I suspect." "Come on, Nurse O'Hara. We're not needed here anymore." The doctor held her elbow and turned her to the door. She took a last look over her shoulder as he explained, "Nurse DeWitt has our patient under his control now." "Oh," she said weakly. "I see." And they were gone. Grant raised those ridiculous gloves in the air and pulled on the wrists of them, trying to make them behave. It was simply not going to work. He couldn't even get the tube out of the box. He kept grabbing extra fingers hanging all over the place. "Oh brother! Do I really need these things, David? Can't I just use my fingers?" "You bet, Tiger. I like it better that way anyway." Grant removed the gloves with only some difficulty. He squeezed some of the ointment into his hands and rubbed them together to warm it up. Soon he was rubbing my chest where it was still red and a little puffy, but there wasn't as much red as a few days ago. He was doing an expert job and the tenting sheet proved it. Then he ducked his head just a little and snickered. I had no idea what was so funny. "Hee-hee. I can see you like me doin' this to ya'. From the sounds of things last night, I'll bet you liked it just fine when Clayton did you too, huh?" He looked up into my saucer eyes, laughing out loud when he saw the shock I registered. It would have been a great win for him except that in his boyish way, as he started in on another round of laughter, his hand automatically went up to cover his mouth. "E-e-w-w-w! That's nasty tastin' stuff. Yuk, yuk and more yuk. Ptewy," he spit out, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. I was rolling around on the bed with my hands clasped over my stomach, laughing as hard as I could. "Whatcha all laughin' about now, you crazies?" said the oldest Hawes boy, Dustin. Both he and his brother ran into the room and threw themselves onto the bed, as though completely at home with Grant and me. "Yeah. Hee-hee-he. What's goin' on, huh? What'd we miss, huh? Who do what, huh?" Little Petey was certainly in fine form. "Wow, Petey. Ptew, ptewy, blah. You're sure all happy," said Grant still trying to wipe the cream from his face and mouth. "You get some while you were gone?" "Grant!" I exclaimed at him and reached out and grabbed his shirt sleeve pulling him to me. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head and made a big deal about helping him with the cream removal process. But I was little help. He had me laughing at his statement. I think I was afraid he might go on. "Where'd you learn to say that and do you know what it means?" Oh, yeah. That was when I realized I wasn't too sure what I would do if he did know what it meant and said it. "Well, of course I know what it means, silly. Everyone knows it means some guy has a big smile on his face. Dad was always saying it about guys at the Wal-Mart." His arms were flailing to get free of my help. Go figure. So what if I had his head wrapped up in the cloth with both arms trapped reaching up. Quick David! You can still save this moment! "I should have known you'd know all about the, the, uh, Happy Male Smile thing. What was I thinking?" Grant froze. The two kids were stopped on their knees on the bed. Grant's arms came down and slowly uncovered his head and they looked at me like I had just given them a history exam; very puzzled and not at all sure what I had just said. "Okay then. Moving on. Boys, why so happy? Ha-ha-ha." Oh boy. I hope the cream erases some memory or I would never live this down with Grant. Petey puffed up all proudly, several times, to get just the right height to say, "We got to talk to daddy! He's gonna be just fine, yes he is, and Doctor says mommy's still sleeping to get better like you do David." He looked over at Dustin to see if he did good. His big brother gave him the nod he needed and went on for the littler guy. "He's gonna be here for a long time 'cuz he gots plaster things, you know?" "Casts," I said to help him. "Yeah an' he gots wires in 'em and he's hangin' from a pole in his bed." Grant and I looked at each other for the same second and both said at once, "Traction!" "Huh? I don't think they're gonna let him wear any shoes. Not even track shoes. Are you guys messin' with me?" "No, traction, Dust...never mind," I said because I wasn't helping. Dustin shrugged us off like we'd lost our minds though it didn't seem to surprise him much. "Where are you going to stay while your mommy and daddy get better, guys?" "Doctor said he knows just the place. He knows a nice old grampa near here that has a big home. He's gonna hire him a nurse from right here to be with us and watch us and stuff until mommy and daddy are better." Having said his speech, Petey raised his hands palms up in a 'there you have it' gesture that said it all, I guess. Then I looked at Grant and noticed he was glaring at me and we both said at each other, "Grampa?" Okay, that was Grant. I said, "Russ?" We both scrunched up our faces and said, 'No-o-o-o!" and we shook our heads in disbelief. Pretty soon we were back to some semblance of normal and Grant continued his rubbing. Now, it was hard enough (and I do mean hard) when I was alone with just Grant doing his thing on my chest. For some reason, an extra four eyes trained on every part of me, which was slowly being revealed as Grant finished each area and moved to the next, were not helping my pre'dick'ament. I could tell that Grant was enjoying himself immensely. I knew he couldn't wait until he got to the next part of me. The two boys were within inches of my tent stake and seemed to have no idea what was 'coming up' next. Now, I knew it was just because of Grant's rubbing, but I didn't want to be the one to initiate the two young ones in 'Pricks 101'. I'll have to admit, their crawling around on me was no distraction from my grief or pleasure, depending on if the sheriff was the next one that walked through the door or if it was Clayton. Then the inevitable from the mouths of babes: "What's that?" said Petey, pointing to a rather large lump under the sheet. I was no good at this spur of the moment shit. "Why Petey that's - HAH!" which is just what you scream when a five year old grabs you by the stake. "Hah! Petey, honey, let go and I'll try to explain. Please let go?" I tried to reach for him but Dustin was in the way and was just as curious at the magic wand that grew from the sheets, I guess. Grant was no help. He wasn't even around. All I could hear was him on the floor yukking it up until he was choking on his own laughter. Serves him right. I finally grabbed Dustin around the waist and slid him toward me, pulling him to one side. Then I raised my knees fast enough to scare Petey and cause his death grip to fail, thank god! I lowered my legs but I still couldn't reach him as he casually leaned forward to the side of the bed, grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it back with him until he had no doubt where tent stakes came from. You'd think that would have been enough but he grabbed on again and said, "Hey! You got a big one just like our daddy does, huh Dustin?" By this time even Dustin was giggling. He'd look at me to see if I was angry, then start in again, giggling. But I had just sunk back with my free arm over my eyes and let out a huge sigh. I felt Dustin start to move around and thought he was trying to escape. Instead he lowered himself next to me and snuggled in. "Our dad's is bigger. He and mommy let us sleep with 'em on Sundays and we like it 'cuz he's hairy and soft and naked. But we sleep naked with him so it's okay, huh?" "Hey? How come you got no hair anywhere David?" said Petey as he dug in between my legs to find any tail-tell remnants of some fur I've never had, even before it was fried off of me. "Yikes! Take it easy Petey. Most of that is attached and I was hoping to leave it that way for awhile longer. Be gentle guy, be gentle." My voice kept getting higher as he dug deeper. But I had my two friends helping to protect me, oh yeah! One was almost up on his feet until I was undraped by the munchkin, the other buried himself between my arm and my naked body and was moving his giggle into high speed laughing. I was still being molested! "PETEY, HONEY!" "Huh?" he gulped. I was loud! Then I was soft, my voice anyway, "Come up here with us, please." But I was firm. "But I was just likin' it," he said, as innocently as possible, on the verge of tears at my tone. I had visions of him asking his daddy if he could bring it home and raise it from a pup tent stake into.... "Petey doesn't mean anything by it, David. He does the same thing with dad's, you know. If we were home he'd run to the night stand and get the 'kay' to have even more slippery fun. Heh." Dustin, done with his explanation, snuggled closer and my arm went around him in reflex. Grant showed up over the edge of the bed with a look as much to say...wait...I guess he did say, "Wait! He gets what and does what to your dads' thingy?" He couldn't believe his ears either but I was not going to encourage Dustin to...ah...well...stop telling on his dad. I had to know where this was going. Of course, the draw back was I had one boy wrapped around my penis, another hugging up to me and a bigger version trying to climb up on my other side while I lay there totally exposed. Dustin chuckled and pointed to Grant. "It's not a thingy, silly. It's a penis. You know, you got one too!" That made Petey sit up on his haunches and pull up his shirt to show the world his prize package. Then, as loud as I think possible, he told everyone, "SEE? I GOTS ONE TOO!" and grabbed it proudly to make sure we noticed it for sure. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or call for a lawyer. They were as cute as could be but a hospital room was no place to be showing off your wares, especially when it was MY hospital room. Now, that might seem hypocritical coming from someone who just helped a ten year old enjoy his first dry orgasm in the same room, albeit the bathroom. But we didn't know it was happening until it did and we sure didn't open the door and scream our discovery to the rest of the patients. "Petey, Petey come over here to show me closer." I waved my hands to encourage him to crawl over, thus ending the display of his charming jail jewels. That's my jail and his jewels. So, to change the subject, kind of, I asked, "Tell us more about this 'Kay' stuff, Dustin." I gathered Petey up and laid him over me after quickly recovering the sheet and a bit of my modesty. I was sandwiched between Grant and Dustin and had Petey laying on me. It was actually very nice. Petey didn't weight half of what Grant did, which wasn't much yet. "Oh. I forgot. Well, daddy kept it in the table by the bed. You pop open the tube thing and squeeze out some gooey stuff and slide it all around. Mommy got pissed at dad some when we first started playin' but Petey would lay with her and kiss her boobs." Petey was nodding his head and giggling against my chest. "Ha! I mean, isn't that nice of you to do that Petey. Mommy must have thought that was special." My god! What was happening here? We'd unleashed two nympho kids that couldn't get enough of their parents and it was likely that they would be camping at Russ' place for some time to come! I didn't even want to think what would happen up there. Oh well. "Yes, that's nice of you, Petey. So Dustin, this stuff was called 'kay'?" "Yeah. K - Y, Ka-ee," he spelled then pronounced it very exaggerated so it was very clear. I looked over at Grant to exchange a knowing, very smug nod but that wasn't the look on his face. He was no closer to knowing what we were talking about than if he were a naive little boy. Oh! Okay, I'll give him that going for him. "It's a lubricant..." Totally lost him. "A supplemental aide for..." Jeesh. Lost again. Think idiot. He's ten, not an editor for Hustler. "Grant, it's really great slippery stuff to make what we did in the shower feel even better," I whispered. He slowly nodded and mouthed an 'oh' and then looked at me like I had truly lost my marbles. I nodded back, as much to agree with him about the missing marbles as to show that I saw that he finally understood me. He burrowed himself into my side and sighed. Dustin tried to lift himself to look over, across my chest, to his new friend Grant to explain quite sincerely, "Yeah. What David said, and they also use it when daddy sticks his penis into mommy and fucks the daylights out of her." Luckily, I was already lying down. I imagined that if the elder Hawes' knew what was going on in here that they would probably both have chosen to remain in a coma or experience a sudden case of amnesia. But oh, he continued, "And then she screams and goes to sleep again. Sometimes I get to clean off daddy and sometimes it's Petey's turn. Yummy. Then Daddy goes small again and we go have breakfast." Of course, little innocent Petey was sucking his thumb, grinning around it and nodding his confirmation to the older lad's tale. I looked over at Grant and saw a cavern where his lips should be. The drool told me he must have been that way for a minute or two and the sharp little thorn in my hip told me that there was no question as to whether or not he understood Dustin's blow by blow (sorry) of their parents' love making. "I already miss our weekends, huh Petey?" mumbled Dustin like he would certainly tear up. "Do you get to help your daddy too Grant?" "Help him? Help him do wha...Oh! No Dustin. My daddy's been gone all of my life until just yesterday. Then all of a sudden he came home and brought my grampa with him." Wow! What a champ. What clarity. He leaned into my shoulder and started a gentle sobbing. I knew he was the happiest he's ever been so I just let him have his cry. Looking around for my cape, I leaped in to save him from some unneeded questions. "So, what do you guys like to do for fun?" Whew! That was close. Grant rubbed my stomach to show me his appreciation. I guess I could do the right thing once in awhile. "Well, let's see...oh! Our favorite thing is when mommy has her ladies' group over and we get to help make them purr. It feels so good. Then we get to be with daddy when he has the other daddies over for cards and our show. That's neat, huh Petey. What we like best is when they have us..." "Okay then!" I interrupted. "I think I was talking about board games like checkers or something. But it can wait. Grant, why don't you go find Nurse O'Hara and see if we can get some lunch or something normal and calming; maybe a nice sedative." "I heard that. Now me boys, you hustle those cute little bums of yours into your room for your lunch, now." "No-o-o! We wanna stay here. We wanna help Grant put the gunk on David's..." "MY, MY, MY, Grant! We almost forgot to finish the ointment," I was fairly shouting, shocking most of the people in the room and, thankfully, quieting Dustin. "Well, I guess we can finish right after our lunch. Whaddya say, Grant?" Four sets of eyes were looking at me like I had really lost it. I knew then that if this kept up I was going to need a hospital stay to recover. NTLFG - The End of Chapter Seven To be continued Comments on this story are appreciated. Thank you. I'm Matthew Templar at matemp1148@yahoo.com