Date: Fri, 15 Jul 2005 21:25:57 -0500
From: H. Rick Cantwell <zestful@myexcel.com>
Subject: Rascal part 20

Rascal Part Twenty
Coaching Coach and Dodging Doctors

	One thing Rascal had taught me was that 'one' day--to a young guy
like his new friend Zack, the kid he met at the library--was like an
eternity. Since I didn't want Zack to suffer, I called him to tell
him about Ryan.  He had already heard about it from Coach, Zack's
father, as part of his regular dinner conversation.  I didn't want
Zack to think I was backing out on my promise ... Ryan's promise,
actually ... I confirmed with Zack that I'd keep my promise to him
but it might take a while.  Even so, it was more than a week before I
got by to see Coach.
	My background on Coach was sketchy, at best.  I recalled Ryan
telling me that Coach knew he was gay.  I recalled talking to Coach
about my theory that guys would get better grades if they weren't
preoccupied about their adolescent hard-ons.  But I couldn't recall,
for sure, how much he knew about Ryan, Lyle, me or, for that matter,
Zack.  I was hoping he would be receptive to Zack being gay but there
was always the chance that he would reject the idea.  Sometimes,
what's good for the goose is intolerable in the gander's own nesting
place.
	  On Tuesday, I stopped by the field house at school, where I'd
been told I would find Coach.  I had wanted Ryan to be there to back
me up when I told Coach about our meeting with his son at the library
but that was, now, out of the question. I took a deep breath and
walked into the field house--the site of the assault on Ryan with a
lead pipe--to find Coach.
	"Got a moment, Coach?" I asked.
	"Always time for you, but more importantly, how's Ryan?"
	"As well as can be expected."
	"I gotta tell ya, I feel awful.  I mean, if I didn't allow kids
to stay late, it would never have happened."
	"We still don't know the guy's motive but I'm guessing if it
didn't happen here, it would have happened somewhere else, sooner or
later."
	"You think he was targeted?  Why?"
	"Don't know.  Lyle's checking into it."
	"His dad's certainly the go-to guy for that!  God, I hope it
wasn't a hate crime."
	"A gaybashing?  We can't rule it out but there's all kinds of
hate in this world."
	"Yeah, I guess you're right. By the way, I gotta thank you for
your suggestion.  The boys' grades have improved remarkably since I
started the BJ for A's incentive program."
	"Glad to hear it's working."
	"I have to issue a late pass every once in a while but, hell,
it's worth it."
	"Coach," I said, hesitating for emphasis, "there's something ...
I've been wondering and I thought you could be of help."
	"I'll gladly try but I don't know how much help I can be until I
know what it is," he said with a smile.
	I got the impression Coach's students cornered him fairly often
with open-ended beginnings like mine.
	"Well, I was wondering.  Uh ..."
	"Just say it.  I don't hold grudges."
	"Well, I'm asking how YOU'D feel about it because I don't have
any kids of my own.  If you found out--from a father's perspective, I
mean--that one of your daughters was a lesbian, would you have a
problem with it?"
	"No," Coach said thoughtfully.  "I'd want to know ... from her
perspective, if she knew what she was getting herself into.  If it was
a one-time thing or not."
	"A phase?"
	"Yeah, but I'd also want to tell her about the pitfalls.  I'm
sure, by the time I found out about it, she'd already know all about
the up sides."
	"Pitfalls?"
	"Role-playing, broken promises, lies, all those things that end
up breaking your heart."
	"That happens in straight relationships, too."
	"But girls don't expect to be lied to from other girls.  They
seem to have this network of trust that most guys don't subscribe to."
	"Like what?" I asked confused.  I hoped, too, Coach would reveal
a little more about his own feelings about homosexuality in general.
	"Guys have no trouble with selling a buddy down the river just for
a good prank.  I think the kids today call it 'a burn'.  Girls would
never consider that.  But from what I can tell, when two girls break
up--lezzies, I mean--they break up ... the dishes, the furniture ...
everything ... including the heart."
	"And guys?"
	"One of 'em just up and leaves."
	"So THAT'S what I've been doing wrong." I chuckled.
	"I didn't know you were in a long-term relationship."
	"I'm not ... unless you count Rascal.  Okay, what if it were your
son who was gay?"
	"Same goes for him," Coach said easily.  "Of course, I'd have to
lecture him on safe sex.  It would kill me to lose one of my kids to
AIDS--or any other disease for that matter.  But ... from one that
could be prevented by using good common sense, that would kill me."
	"You wouldn't feel he was ... defective ... damaged goods?"
	"Nawh.  Some guys are gay, some aren't."
	"You wouldn't feel you were a bad father or anything?"
	"No.  Should I?"
	"A lot of fathers blame themselves.  They think they let their
son down or weren't good enough fathers or it was something terrible
that they passed on genetically or something."
	"I might be guilty of any or all of those traits but I do the best
I can ... and I think my kids know that."
	"I'm sure they do," I said.
	"What's this all about?"
	To throw Coach off my scent a little until I was ready to spring
Zack's homosexuality on him, I said, "Are you aware of Rascal's, uh,
relationship with ..."
	"His dad?"
	"Yeah," I said, surprised at how quickly Coach picked up on where
this conversation was headed.
	"I know they're close.  Closer than most dads are to their
sons."
	"You're not talking in euphemisms, right?" I asked.
	"Let's just say, I know as much as you do."
	"What's your take on that?" I asked, presuming Coach was talking
about incest.
	"If it works for them, I'm happy for 'em.  Rascal sure is
happier.  No, not happier, more content."
	"Content?"
	"Before ... the, uh ... 'wrestling match' the two of them had--at
your place, I believe--it was like Ryan was a ... a ... football field
without a goalpost ... a basketball court without a net ..."
	"I get it," I said.  "Aimless."
	"Exactly.  Then, when THAT happened, ohmigod!  It was like
everything came into focus for him."
	"Trying to say he was a little pre-occupied before then?"
	"A little!  His grades were fine but everything else was
haphazard, half-hearted ... even left half-finished."
	"Know anyone else like that?" I asked, wondering if Zack
displayed any of those traits.  I still didn't know if Zack wanted to
have sex with his dad, but I wanted to investigate, beforehand, how
Coach would react.
	"Whaddya mean?"
	"Just wondering," I said dismissively.  "So, you would say it
was beneficial ... in Ryan's case, for something like that to happen?"
	"Definitely."
	"But you wouldn't recommend it?"
	"To whom?  I don't know of any other father and son situations
like that.  Are you talking about one of my boys?  One of the guys on
the team, I mean?  Which one?  One that's participating in the
incentive program?"
	Coach's tone was getting hysterical, so I said, "No, not one of
the team members."
	"Oh, good.  Jeez, if I thought I turned one of 'em gay by
starting the incentive program, I'd ..."
	"No, that's not it," I reassured him.  "I'm just saying ... for
the sake of argument, if ... say ... one of YOUR sons wanted to have
sex with you, how would you react?"
	"Oh!  Well!  Uh ... well, first off, I can't imagine any of my
boys being gay ... much less wanting to have sex with his ol' man,"
Coach said, patting his mid-life paunch.
	It wasn't a big beer belly, but it was beginning.
	"But if he was and he did ... uh ... how would I feel?  Damn good
question!"
	"I'm guessing, from your reaction, that you wouldn't kick him out
of the house or anything."
	"Hell, no!  He's my son!"
	"Okay, here's another scenario. What if one of your kids was
attracted to older men, but not you ... sexually?"
	"Hummm.  I guess I could live with that.  What are you doing,
writing a book?"
	"I'm beginning to think maybe I could.  But nobody would believe
all the things that go on in my life."
	"Like what?"
	"Oh, you know, Lyle and Rascal, Jeremy and Juanita ..."
	"Yeah, I heard about the dance routine they did at the cookie
sale."
	"Zack ..." I said, looking for any adverse reaction from Coach
when he found out I knew his son.
	"Zack?  My Zack?"
	"Yeah.  I met him the other day at the public library."
	"Oh," Coach said, apparently not understanding where all this was
leading.  "He's got a friend there who watches out for him ... a
janitor.  In fact, you might have met him.  He cleans up here after he
gets done cleaning the library."
	"Yeah, I heard."
	"So what's this about Zack?" Coach asked, furrowing his brow.
	"He told me ... Rascal and me ... that he has a problem with his
dad."
	"WHAT!"
	"Calm down," I said soothingly.  "He's afraid that he can't
confide in you 'cuz you'd freak."
	"I would not," Coach blurted rather loudly.  "What ever gave him
that idea?"
	I merely raised my eyebrows and looked him up and down like I was
evaluating his performance on the playing field.
	"Well," Coach said more calmly, "I get ... excited once in a
while ... and I shout occasionally ... but I've never thrown anything
or laid a hand on any of them."
	"He's not afraid of the physical you.  He's afraid of what you'd
think of him ... that you'd not like him any more if ..."
	"If what?"
	"If you knew he was gay."  I was as nervous as a flamethrower in
a fireworks factory as I watched Coach's face.
	His expression of incomprehension was slowly replaced by one of
understanding, then denial and finally outrage.
	"No fuckin' way!  Sure, he likes music but ... but ... so did I
when I was his age.  But I had to make a choice and I chose sports.
Did he ... has he ... did you ...?"
	"Ryan and I met with him at the library," I said, skirting the
real question, hoping Coach would think sex in a public place was out
of the question.
	"And he just walks up to you and says, "Hi, I'm gay!" Coach said
in an accusatory tone.
	"No.  Not quite like that.  Zack said he works here after home
games and that he'd heard some of Ryan's teammates ... mention ... Ryan
was gay, so he felt comfortable talking to Rascal about being gay.  I
just happened to be along for the ride."
	"The ride!"
	"It was my car.  Rascal was driving."
	"Oh, I thought you meant ..."
	"No, no, no.  Anyway, Zack said you already spend more time with
his older brothers than you do with him and he was afraid you'd hate
him if you found out."
	"No way!"
	"I know that now.  So how do you want to handle this?"
	"This ... what?"
	"Letting Zack know you know he's gay?"
	"Jesus!  There's nothing in the playbook for this kinda thing.
Uh, let's see.  He knows YOU know, right?"
	"But he doesn't know I'm talking to you."
	"So if I say something to him, I'll incriminate you."
	"Now that I know you're cool with Zack being gay ..."
	"And you're sure of that?"
	"Positive.  Well, at least gay for now."
	"So it's not a sure thing?" Coach asked hopefully.
	"Bi at best.  He's definitely interested in the gay scene, so I
don't know."
	"Oh," Coach said, with obvious disappointment.
	"Anyway, what I was gonna say is ... I don't have a problem with
Zack finding out that I told you.  I can take the heat on this one.
Unless we tell him together."
	"You'd do that?"
	"Zack seems like a very nice young man.  I'd like to make his
life a little less ... traumatic if I can."
	"So how should we do this?"
	"I could go to one of his recitals," I offered, "and we could
talk afterward."
	"His mom would be there.  I wouldn't want to embarrass him in
front of her."
	"Yeah, you're right."
	"Not that I don't want her to know.  I'm not ashamed of him.  I'd
just like to tell her in my own way ... after I've talked to Zack about
it."
	"I understand."
	"I'd offer to invite you two over to my place but I think Zack
would get suspicious.  What if we met, uh ...?"
	"I promised Zack I'd take him to the grand opening of the new
aviary at the university.  He loves wolves, whales, falcons ... mostly
endangered species."
	"That's Saturday, right?  I could meet you there ... kinda by
accident.  Then I could, uh ... suggest we go somewhere for burgers."
	"Too public of a place to talk about this kind of thing."
	Just then my cell phone rang--the one Rascal bought me so he
could, as he put it, "Keep me on a tight leash."  At first, I thought
it was him, since he was the only one who ever called me on it, but I
realized there was no way he could dial a phone in his condition.  Even
so, caller ID indicated it was him.  In that strange way your brain
processes things when you're under pressure, I immediately wondered if
Ryan had been beat up just for his cell phone.  I wondered how I could
trick the thief into meeting me somewhere.
	"Hello?" I said warily.
	"Dick.  Lyle.  Can you come over Saturday?  I want to look into
this incident with Ryan a little more deeply and I thought maybe you
could fill in some of the details."
	"Absolutely!  What time?"  My voice quivered from the unexpended
adrenalin coursing through my body from thinking about beating up the
guy that wailed on Ryan.  I tried to calm down by scolding myself for
not realizing the phone call could have been from Lyle.
	"When's good for you?  I cleared my calendar at work."
	"That couldn't have been easy."
	"Once they knew it was about Ryan, they understood.  My personal
secretary, Luke, is gonna run interference all weekend for me.  In
fact, he and Kevin will be following up on some leads, too."
	"Together, no doubt," I said, recalling how well they got along
after that memorable, although disgusting, weekend at the lake.
	"Yeah, I don't know what's goin' on between those two but Luke
seems happy about it."
	"If I know Kevin, you don't want to know!"
	"You're not still holding a grudge because Kevin set you up, sent
you to prison for six years of your life and forced you to become his
boy toy after you got out, are you?"
	"Who could hold a grudge over something as trivial as that?" I
asked offhandedly.  "Uh, well, let me see.  I'm here with Coach and we
were planning to take his son Zack to the new aviary, but we can make
other plans."
	"No ... go!  You can stop over here afterward.  In fact," Lyle
said thoughtfully, "maybe Coach could come with you.  He might have
some insight into why someone would want to beat up Ryan like that."
	"I'll ask him.  How's Rascal, by the way."
	"He's in pain, which they keep to a minimum with medication but
his spirits are high."
	"I planned to go up to see him Thursday.  Is that okay?"
	"Yeah, he loves company.  He has therapy twice a day at ten and
two."
	"I'll take something to read."
	"Put it in a plain brown wrapper, will ya?" Lyle chuckled.
"Gotta go.  See you Saturday--whenever's good for you.  I'll be home
all day."
	"See you then." I said, just before I heard the 'disconnect'
click.  Like Ryan, Lyle had a way of hanging up as soon as he was done.
'But,' I thought, 'what the hell, he's a busy man.'
	"Ryan's dad?"
	"Yeah.  Would you be able to go over to his place Saturday after
we tell Zack the good news?"
	Coach and I discussed that option, then the topic got back to
Zack.
	"I've got one question," Coach said speculatively.  "In your
attempt to mislead me until you were ready to tell me about Zack, you
mentioned incest.  Do you think he's ... we're gonna ..."
	"I don't know.  He has a ... he likes older guys."  I couldn't
believe how smug I had felt, thinking I'd misdirected my inquiry so
well, but I immediately figured Coach dealt with this kind of deception
everyday.  To reassure Coach he didn't need to worry just yet, I said,
"Zack likes Ryan, too, so it's not exclusive.  It's not like he had a
... 'complex' or anything ... I don't think."
	"How do you know he likes older guys?  How old?"
	"He wasn't real subtle around me and he revealed to Rascal ...
some ... details that implied ..."
	"Implied?"
	"Well, I think Zack should be the one to tell you.  Anything I'd
say would be pure speculation."
	Obviously displeased with my answer but realizing it was true,
Coach said, "Yeah, I guess you're right."
	"But if he DOES have incest in mind," I said, "you better know
how you're gonna react.  Zack's at a very impressionable age."
	"So what you're saying is, I should give in to him."
	"What I'm saying is, you can't afford to send mixed messages.
He's gonna be frightened enough as it is.  He doesn't need to be
confused about where you're coming from."
	"So I SHOULDN'T consider it?"
	Coach kept fidgeting as he wrestled with his dilemma.
	"Hey, Coach?"
	He jumped like he didn't know I was in the room.
	"I'm not asking you to tell me right now how you're gonna react.
I'm just saying, think it through carefully before Saturday."
	"Yeah.  God, I guess!" he said distractedly.
	"I'll see you Saturday at the aviary around noon.  Okay?"
	"K," Coach said, borrowing the teen vernacular, seemingly still
engrossed in thought about how he was going to react if the incest
issue raised its head.
	By the time I got home and got in bed, my mind was jumping back
and forth deliberating about what I was going to do about Zack if he
continued to come on to me and about who Ryan's assailant could have
been.  I had pretty much decided the first guy to check out was
fagmasher.  Although his e-mail seemed to be more assertive than
aggressive, I didn't want to rule him out.  'I wonder if I should tell
Lyle about the e-mails from Ryan's classmates,' I thought as I tossed
and turned.  'None of them were threatening, other than fagmasher's.
But there might be some on the computer I don't know about.  Wouldn't
Ryan have told Lyle?'
	I rolled over, telling myself to go to sleep because I had to go
to work in the morning.  Instead, my mind continued to race.  'There's
no way I'm gonna have sex with Zack.  Number one, I don't go in for
little boys.  Jesus!  Ryan was even too young for me!  But Zack isn't
like Ryan.  He won't be able to manipulate me like Rascal did.  But I
DID promise I'd ... just exactly what DID I promise?  Nothing!  Ryan
did.  I can get out of this.  Now, go to sleep!'
	Although I slept, it was fitfully and the first thought in the
morning was, 'We didn't resolve where to take Zack after accidentally
meeting at the aviary so we could talk about him being gay.'  As I
dressed, I thought, 'Well, that's Coach's problem.'  It felt kind of
nice to be able to dismiss the problem so easily.  I, after all, wasn't
a parent.  Even so, all day at work, I tried to think of just the right
place.  I decided against The Club because that wasn't "my" place ...
it was Lyle's and I was merely a "guest" member.
	By noon on Thursday, my visit with Ryan was a mixed blessing.  I
agonized over his pain but I gloried in the opportunity to focus on
something other than my own problems.  For the first few minutes, we
talked about how he was feeling and what they had been doing to him--
normal patient/visitor repartee.
	Then, as my worries took over again, I asked, "Did you give your
dad the password to your e-mails?"
	"Yeah, why?"
	"There might be a clue to who did this to you in them."
	"None that I saw," Ryan said.
	"What if you get an incriminating e-mail from someone else?"
	"Oh well!" Ryan said resigned to his fate.  "I can't think of
anything I've done that I haven't told Daddy about or anyone who would
e-mail me anything incriminating."
	"So Lyle knows about the offer you made to the football team?"
	"Yeah, I told him last week."
	"That's a load off my mind."
	"Well, he wasn't real happy about my offer.  He said I was being
overly zealous and if I weren't hospitalized, I'd be grounded."
	"Oooh, bad news."
	"Daddy said I'm still not exempt from punishment.  I might be
grounded after I get out."
	"Damn!  He WAS mad, wasn't he?"
	"Well, it was worth it.  We won," Ryan said sagely.
	"Now," I said gravely, "About Zack."
	"Hey, how is he?"
	"Don't try to change the subject.  There's no way I can keep that
promise--the promise YOU made."
	"I'll make it right with Zack," Ryan said casually, like it was
something he did every day--fix catastrophes.
	"I spoke to Coach."
	"Hey!  How is he?"
	I glared at Ryan's attempt to sidetrack me.  Then I realized he
was cooped up in the hospital with no way of getting outside news--not
even the phone.  "He's fine.  Everyone's fine, except you."
	"And I'm perfect, so all's right with the world."
	"Except for the parts that are broken, bruised, or otherwise
damaged," I said, smiling at his imperviousness to disaster and his
resilience to whatever 'evil' life threw at him.  "Anyway, I sounded
Coach out about Zack being gay and he was pretty cool about it."
	"Cool TOWARD it, as against it or cool, okay with it?"
	"He loves Zack."
	"Good.  I'm glad.  I really didn't think Coach would be two-faced
about it.  You know, a double standard type thing.  'It's okay for one
of my team members but not my son,' type thing."
	"I know what you mean.  Anyway, we're gonna talk to Zack on
Saturday.  Any suggestions?"
	"Yeah, give me a blowjob before my next PT."
	"I'm serious, here, Ryan," I said sternly.
	"I am, too." Ryan said emphatically.  "Daddy couldn't do it last
night 'cuz Mom came up with him.  And I haven't cum since Tuesday
night."
	"Oh, okay," I said as if it were a drudgery.  "If I have to, but
then we have to talk about Zack."
	"No problem.  I'll be thinking about Zack the whole time you're
blowin' me."
	"Gee, thanks," I said petulantly as I pulled the curtain closed.
Then I pulled the sheet back.
	Sure enough, Ryan's gown looked like a teepee.  Being careful not
to disturb the arm that was in the "bridge cast" or his leg that was in
traction, I lifted the hem.  His cock was an angry red like it was mad
at the world because it hadn't been milked in a day and a half.  It
bounced with each beat of Ryan's heart.  His ballsack was tight like it
was trying to squeeze the juice out--if for no other reason than self-
preservation.  It was like his gonads thought they were drowning in a
quiet tide pool of sperm.
	"Looks to me like I'll need to do this more than once," I said.
	Ryan gave me the "Rascal" look--the one that says, 'Once you've
seen it, you can't do without it, huh?'
	Grabbing Rascal's dick like a starving vagrant, I realized just
how much I had missed him being around.  I realized, too, how much I
loved him and how badly I wanted to exact revenge on whoever did this
to him.  I sucked him tenderly for a while, until I heard him whimper.
Then I sucked with more urgency, knowing his need to cum was greater at
that point than his need for tender lovemaking.
	"Aaagh, god!" Ryan screamed as his nuts discharged like
skyrockets into my mouth.  Then more calmly, "Oh god, oh god, yeah.  I
really needed that!"
	From the amount of nutty-tasting spunk he pumped out, I had to
agree.  "Won't need to eat for a week after that meal," I said,
replacing the gown and pulling up the sheet.
	"Or two hours, whichever comes first."
	"About Zack."
	"If Coach accepts him, there's no problem.  Zack was afraid Coach
would hate him for being gay.  Zack didn't know, when we were talking
to him, that Coach and I have messed around.  And I couldn't tell Zack
that.  Coach has to be the one to do that."
	"I agree.  But I forgot about you and Coach."
	"So you've been worrying for nothing."
	"That's what I do best," I said.
	"No," Ryan said, glancing down toward his crotch area, "that's
what you do best."
	"Thanks.  Glad to be of help."
	"Knock, knock," a male voice said.  "Is it safe for me to come
in?"
	"Sure.  Just got done with my CT and I'm ready for my PT," Ryan
said, apparently thinking it was the physical therapist coming to
transport him to therapy.
	"I didn't order a CT," Dr. Wasserdyne said as he eased in,
leaving the curtain closed.
	"CT," Ryan said, "Cock therapy.  PT, Physical Torture."
	The doctor looked over at me.  "Mr. Hickey," he said, extending a
hand, "nice to see you again."  From his demeanor, I presumed he had
talked to Lyle who explained, satisfactorily, my relationship with
Ryan.
	"My pleasure," I said.  "And call me Dick."
	"No," Ryan said, "It's MY pleasure."
	"So, I'm guessing you have that all taken care of?" Dr.
Wasserdyne said.
	"For a couple more hours," Ryan said.
	"Are you going potty okay?" the doctor asked.
	I was impressed with how he talked to Ryan in youthful terms
rather than adult medical terms.
	"Yep, I can even move my right leg out of the way--with a little
help."
	"Good.  Are they helping you bend it in therapy, yet?"
	"I can bend it almost in half." Ryan said proudly.
	"Well, we want you to be able to bend it all the way back to your
chest before you leave here."
	"Me, too!" Ryan said enthusiastically.  "That's my most favorite
position EVER!"
	"Ryan!" I scolded.
	"I'm getting used to him but I have to admit, he catches me off
guard sometimes," Dr. Wasserdyne said, reassuring me Ryan hadn't
embarrassed or insulted him.
	"That's what he does best," I said with a chuckle.
	"Hey, it a gift.  What can I say?" Ryan grinned.
	"How are you makin' out otherwise?  You know, any muscle cramps,
bed sores, itching?"
	"Nope, just the one up my butt that only you can fix."
	I was surprised when Dr. Wasserdyne snapped on a rubber glove
that he pulled out of his white lab coat pocket.  "Are we ready?"
	"Oh, god, yeah." Ryan moaned.
	Slowly, Dr. Wasserdyne inserted his long middle finger into Ryan's
anus.  He felt around for a lot longer than any normal prostate check
would take.  Only when Ryan's cock began to thump against his belly, did
the doctor remove his finger.
	"No, not yet.  Please?  Not yet.  Of everything, that's what I
miss the most!"
	"Daddy Two wants some time with you, I believe, so I'll see you
later," Dr. Wasserdyne said.
	Ryan's expression was a cross between lust and hate but I got the
impression the doctor was immune to it.  As he stepped away from the
bed, I followed him to the door.  I reached in my coat pocket and
pulled out--just enough so the doctor knew what I was talking about--
Ryan's vibrator.  It was the small, three-speed one I'd given him
almost a year earlier.
	"Okay if he uses this?" I whispered.
	After a thoughtful moment Dr. Wasserdyne asked in hushed tones,
"Is he already used to it?"
	"Oh yeah," I said convincingly.
	"Then it shouldn't be a problem ... in moderation."
	"Well, it's not like he can administer it himself, so it will be
limited to me and maybe one or two others."
	"His dad, yes.  Any others, I'd have to say 'no.'"
	I was surprised that he knew about Lyle being so 'familiar' with
Ryan's needs.
	"Vibration therapy," Dr. Wasserdyne said, rolling his eyes.
"What WILL they think of next?"  After he walked away he returned just
long enough to stick his head back in the doorway and called to me, "Be
sure to wash your hands.  I can't afford to have the little rascal
infected."
	I hid the vibrator until I got behind the curtain again.  "Look
what I have here," I said quietly.
	Ryan opened his eyes part way to see what was intruding on his
moment of bliss following his professional prostate massage.  Then his
eyes widened in excitement as his breath caught in his throat.  It was
like he'd just seen a long-lost brother.
	"Ohmigod!  Put it in.  Please."
	"Don't I get a kiss first?"
	"Hell!  I'll give you a fuckin' blowjob if you'll do it," Ryan
pleaded.
	"A kiss will do for now."
	His kiss was remarkably passionate.  I would imagine it was
because of Dr. Wasserdyne's prostate massage but I was glad to be the
lucky recipient, nonetheless.
	When we broke away from the kiss, Ryan shuddered and said, "No,
it's not the sex I miss the most.  It's the love my two daddies give
me--unwaveringly and unconditionally."
	As  I vibrated his prostate, I said, "Where were we?  Oh, yeah,
Zack.  We know he likes older guys."
	"Yeah, there's this Roger guy who's a janitor.  I've never met
him--not that I'm aware of, anyway--but I'd guess he's older."
	"And Zack e-mailed you showing an interest in me," I said.  "Do
you think he's in love with his father?"
	"Not like I was ... with Daddy, I mean, but yeah, I think he'd
jump at the chance.  Want me to find out?"
	"No, let's see how it goes Saturday.  If it doesn't come up,
maybe I'll have you call him and sound him out.  I don't want to spook
Coach any more than he already is.  I get the impression he doesn't
like surprises."
	"Not at all.  He's such a control freak."
	"Now about you.  Have you thought about who would want to do this
to you?"
	"Every day.  Every night.  I just can't think of anyone."
	"Has Brad ever said anything that would indicate he ... "
	"No.  It wasn't Brad.  He's too much of a sub.  When I yelled
'stop,' I think he WOULD have--if only for a second--just out of
habit."
	"I don't know how you could have been so observant under the
circumstances but I guess that's part of your training."
	"Has he ever told you he loves you?"
	"What?"
	"Something Coach said ... not about Brad but someone else.  If
somebody was in love with you and felt you didn't love them back, they
might strike out in a familiar pattern."
	"Like ... Brad gets beaten by someone who is supposed to love
him, so he equates love with beating up on people?"
	"That's pretty much it."
	"No, I'm pretty sure he's never told me he loves me."
	"What about Jamie or someone from school?"
	Thinking with half-squinted eyes Ryan said, "No, I don't think
so.  I mean, Jamie loves me but he knows I love him, too ... in a
mutual love kind of way."
	"Yeah, I agree.  Has Rover ever threatened you?"
	"Nope.  Can you bump that up to medium speed?"
	"What about that cop you pissed off at the state police
barracks."
	"Never heard from him again.  But he knows my name and address,
so I guess he could have found out where I go to school."
	"He's a candidate.  I'll have Kevin check him to see if he has an
alibi."
	We were quiet while Ryan enjoyed the vibro-massage before he
said, "This was a long time ago ... and nothing ever came of it but
there was this security guard at the bus station.  He kept coming on to
me but I turned him down every time."
	'I knew it!' I thought recalling the first day I met Ryan and
followed him into the men's room at the bus terminal. I caught the
guard in the act but, because of the lighting, I couldn't tell if it
was Ryan or not.  "Wait!  You said you never did anything with him?"
	"Nope.  In fact, I don't even think he knows my name.  I've never
seen him on the bus with me, back before I got my license, so I'm
pretty sure he never followed me home."
	"Permit," I corrected.
	"Permit," Ryan concurred, knowing he still had to have an adult
in the front seat with him.
	"Have you been with anyone I don't know about?"
	"Why Spunky!  I do believe you're jealous," Ryan said flippantly.
	"Ryan," I scolded.
	"You know me.  I could never keep a secret from you."
	"But have you?"  Is there ANYone?"
	"No.  I promise."
	"This is so damn frustrating!  Okay, don't think about who but
what circumstances have you been in that would cause someone to hate
you.  Did you win an award someone would have felt they deserved?  Did
you spill food on somebody in the cafeteria ... trip someone up in the
hallway--even accidentally?"
	A knock at the door announced the arrival of the afternoon PT
crew.
	I quickly withdrew the vibrator and, as I switched it off, I
shoved it in my pocket.
	"He'll be in therapy for 90 minutes this afternoon if you have
somewhere to go," a cute guy in green scrubs said.
	"Just here," I said, holding up the book I'd brought.
	As they wheeled his bed out, Ryan yelled back, "Be sure to wash
your hands!"
	While he was gone, I washed the vibrator and put it in the night
stand by his bed.  After reading eight pages of my book, I realized I
couldn't tell you a thing about what I'd read because my mind was so
preoccupied with Ryan and Zack, so I quit reading.  I was looking at
the phone, sitting useless on the nightstand, when it occurred to me
that I could get an earphone jack and headset from work--at a discount
--and tape his cell phone somewhere where Ryan could press the buttons
but not have to hold it up to his ear.  Pleased with myself, I laid my
head back and closed my eyes.
	"Hey, you're not allowed to sleep in a hospital.  It's against
all the rules."
	I awoke with a start at the sound of Ryan's reprimand.  Drool
splashed onto my arm as I shook my head to clear the grogginess.
	"Jesus, Rascal, you could give a guy a heart attack!"
	"In more ways than one," he smiled impishly.
	"Did he behave?" I asked the cute guy in the green scrubs.
	"Oh yeah.  He knows we can make his life miserable if he
doesn't," Green Scrubs said playfully, like he was kidding with a
younger brother.
	Ryan rested for about a half hour and then fell asleep.  I
started reading again--the same eight pages--only this time I was able
to concentrate on the story.  The kitchen staff brought in Ryan's food
tray but didn't bother to wake him up.  I wasn't real clear on hospital
protocol but I thought Ryan needed rest more than food this soon after
PT.  I figured I could wake him later, just before they picked it up--
probably an hour, I guessed.
	As it turned out, Ryan awoke by himself.
	That's when it occurred to me that he couldn't feed himself.
"How do you eat?"
	"I call the nurse.  She sends someone down, but you can do it.
Daddy does.  Mom, too."
	Lifting the insulated cover from the plate, I saw a rather bland-
looking array of mashed potatoes--no visible pepper--green beans that
looked more plastic than palatable and a non-descript lump of gray
meat--at least it was in the shape of processed meat.  Also on the tray
were a clear plastic cup of assorted fruit and two cartons of milk--one
white, one chocolate.
	"Is this all you get?"
	"Yeah."
	"That's not enough for you!  You're a growing boy!"
	"Daddy sneaks in pizza and burgers.  The doctor said it was
okay."
	"I should hope so!"
	"You have to stand on my right side."
	"Okay," I said, moving into position.
	"Now you take out your dick and ..."
	"You have to eat first.  They're gonna be back to pick up the
tray any minute now."
	"I AM gonna eat.  But Daddy let's me stoke his dick with my
fingertips while I'm eating."
	"Oh, he does, does he?" I said skeptically.
	"Yeah, it helps with my digestion."
	I raised one eyebrow as I looked down my nose at him.
	"You know, it creates saliva and all 'cuz I want to suck a dick
so bad it hurts."
	"But the kitchen help."
	"I'll be done before they get back but only if you hurry up and
whip it out."
	'God what I don't do for this kid,' I thought as I unzipped.
Then I thought, 'I wonder if Lyle really does this or if Rascal just
scammed me again.'
	Ryan moved his hand, the one bandaged like a football, over to
the edge of the bed.  "Stand right there."
	I felt his fingertips caress my cockhead and I shivered.  Even
after all this time, knowing Ryan, I never fail to be electrified by
his touch and excited by his seemingly endless talent for making the
ordinary extraordinary.  My dick started to harden from his gentle
caress.  'Luckily for Rascal,' I thought, 'my dick doesn't stand erect
when it hardens.  It just give him more length to play with, is all.'
	"Ummm," Ryan groaned, "I really miss you, Daddy Two."
	"You miss my dick, you mean."
	"That and everything that comes with it.  Your balls, your
asshole, your mouth but most of all ... your heart.  All I have to do
is touch you and I can feel how much you love me.  The equipment's nice
... really nice ... but what's inside the package is what I love."
	I leaned down and kissed him--fatherly.
	"Hey, save that for dessert!" Rascal grinned.  "Those drones will
be back any minute!"
	Using the side of the fork, I tried to break off a forkful of
meat.
	"Good luck.  It's tougher than the SATs."
	Even with the knife, I had trouble sawing off a piece.  "We had
sharper knives than this in prison," I said.
	"And better cooks, too, I'll bet."
	To save time, I cut the meat into six bite-sized pieces.  Then I
alternated feeding him the meat, green beans and potatoes.  I put the
"bendy" straw in his milk but it kept falling out.
	"Just put the V-shaped part to my mouth and I can drink from the
carton."
	While he ate and drank, he kept up a relentless caress on my
cock.  Somehow, he was able to get his fingertips under it and stroked
the bottom side with the pads of his fingers.  It felt like butterflies
were walking along my cum tube.
	When he was done, I started to pull the plastic stay-fresh wrap
off the top of the fruit.
	"Save that for later," Ryan said.  "And the spoon."
	"You sure?  That didn't look like it would put a DENT in YOUR
appetite."
	"I'm sure," he said resolutely.
	Just then, there was a knock and Ryan moved his hand in front of
my crotch.  The flesh-colored bandage was so big it covered my hard-on.
Of course, I leaned back, poked it between me and the edge of the
mattress and moved back against Ryan's hand.
	"Keeping the fruit for later," Ryan said to the girl.
	"Enjoy," she said as she removed the tray, turned and left.  She
was so absorbed in doing her job she didn't even look in my direction.
	"You said Lyle brings you pizza and burgers.  Is there anything
else we can smuggle in for you?"
	"I'm starved for cum," Ryan said seriously, tickling my cock root
with his fingertips.  I lifted my cock up onto the bed again and he
once again began a feather-light caress.
	I thought, 'Usually Ryan's able to get several loads a week from
Lyle, Jamie, Jason, Tyler or me--and occasionally, Kevin.'  It never
occurred to me that he might be going through cum withdrawal until he
mentioned it.
	"Honey, I know it must be hell, but with you all banged up and in
traction ... and two casts ... I just don't see how we can get you into
a position ..."
	"For now, I have to use my fruit cup."
	"What?" I asked confused.
	"Jack off in my fruit cup.  But first, let me drink the syrup
off, otherwise, it thins the cum down too much."
	"Are you serious?"
	"As serious as an Iraqi car bomber," Ryan said.  "Daddy Two, I
really gotta get some cum."  All the while, he was trying to bounce my
cock, something he knew caused it to plump up all the harder.
	I looked around, attuning my ear to listen for nurse-like
footfalls and grabbed my cock in my left hand.  I stroked it gently
until it got to full length and my balls started to get that achy
feeling.  Pre-cum oozed out onto Ryan's fingertips.  I got myself real
close to cumming and stopped.
	Rascal's smile told me he knew I was working up a super-large
load for him.  The smile was a cross between 'Thanks, Daddy Two' and 'I
love it when I get what I want.'
	While I was letting my gonads calm down, I tore the plastic shrink
wrap off the top of the container.  Holding three fingers over the fruit
to keep it from falling out, I tilted the rim to Ryan's lips.  The syrup
dripped around the diced fruit and into his mouth.  I was so horned up,
just his tongue touching my fingers as he licked the rim of the plastic
container was a turn-on.
	"Can you lift your hand to your mouth?" I asked.
	"Yeah, I guess," Ryan said quizzically.
	Ryan gingerly bent his right arm at the elbow and aimed for his
mouth.  The big ball of bandage pressed into his cheek, thwarting his
attempt to get his tongue to his fingertips.
	"It was worth a try," I said.  Gently, I licked the pre-cum off
his fingers and then kissed him.  My cock throbbed with urgent need.
	I resumed stroking it and sat the fruit cup on the bed so my
pre-cum would drip into it.
	"That's so fuckin' hot, Daddy."
	Whenever Ryan dropped the "Two" from my nickname, I knew he was
truly getting into whatever we were doing.  The look on his face
confirmed his lust was genuine.  I moved the bed tray away and
discovered--as I expected--Rascal had a throbbing boner, too.  The
sheet had slid down and his gown was sopping wet with his own pre-cum.
	"Want me to take care of that for you?" I asked, feeling sorry
for him.
	"Not yet.  It's startin' to hurt the good hurt.  Keep jackin'
off."  His breath was heavy with passion.
	I used some of my pre-cum to sluice up the flange of my cock
helmet.  After that, it started to get noisy with all that slick
slapping sound.
	"God, I miss hearing that," Ryan said.  "Daddy's jack-off is so
much quieter."
	"Does he cum in your fruit cup, too?"
	"Fuck yeah!  I'd be in the psyche ward if I had to do without
SOME cum once in a while."
	"I know the feeling."
	"Well, it's ten times worse when it's impossible to do anything
about it.  A hundred times worse."
	For Ryan, it must have been pure torture.  If I needed sex, I
could just go out and get it--or jack off.  But Ryan's sex drive was
far more powerful than mine and he couldn't even touch himself, much
less get out of bed to go looking for it.
	"I'm getting close, hon.  Want me to hold off?"
	"No.  Do it.  Cum for me, Daddy.  I love to watch you cum.  But
don't lose any.  Aim it right into the cup.  I need ever spurt."  His
voice became more insistent with each phrase.
	I was lost in my own world as I shot a deluge of jism into the
fruit.  At one point, I thought it was going to overflow, but just in
time, the thick spunk started oozing down past the fruit to collect in
the bottom of the cup.  I shot three more healthy spurts before I had
to start milking it out by pressing on that spot between my butthole
and my balls.  That coaxed out a glob the size of a dime and I set the
cup on the bed tray.
	"Don't put your dick away, yet," Ryan said.  "I know there will
be more once it goes soft a little."
	"Little is not a word I'd use to describe THAT!" Dr. Wasserdyne
said appreciatively.
	I jumped at the sound of his voice.  It felt like my heart was
lodged in my throat.  At the same time, I felt like I'd been punched
in the stomach.
	"Big, ain't it?" Rascal grinned.
	"As a fisherman, I'd have to say, I wouldn't throw it back."
	"Yeah, it's definitely big enough to eat," Ryan said.  "Hey, doc,
is there some way you could position me so I could suck it?"
	"Ryan!" I admonished.
	"He knows I'm a cocksucker," Ryan argued.
	"Behave," I reprimanded.  Even so, I saw the good doctor was
still staring at my dick--which had decided, on its own, not to go
soft.  I flexed it, causing it to bob up off the bed where I had
dropped it when he first spoke.
	"Do you have a son?" Dr. Wasserdyne asked as if he were in a
trance.
	"No, just this little rascal ... and he's pseudo-adopted."
	"Does your father live nearby?"  His tone was more professional
but it still sounded like he was shocked at my cock size.
	"No."
	"Mine does," Ryan said, "and he's almost as big as Spunky."
	Dr. Wasserdyne looked at Ryan with a glazed expression, like he
just realized Rascal was in the room.  With a far away sound in his
voice, he said, "Of course.  Why was I so blind?"
	I could see in my mind's eye, the doctor slapping himself on
his forehead.
	"Ryan," Dr. Wasserdyne said,  "A friend of mine ... a urologist
... and I are working on a project.  Would you like to be a part of
it?"
	"Sure!" Ryan said enthusiastically.
	"You don't even know what it's about," I reproached.
	I felt some post-orgasm jism ooze up my cum tube, so I reached
for the fruit cup and squeezed it out.
	"I'll need to talk to your father about it, too.  If he's not
willing, then we can't use you."
	"Doc," I said, "you're beginning to sound like an absent-minded
professor."
	"Actually, that's what it's all about.  We're doing a comparative
study."
	"Comparing what?" I asked, laying my cock on the bed again but
only after giving it a quick squeeze to keep it hard.
	Doc's eyes returned to my crotch to watch what I was doing.
"It's going to be a definitive case study of genetic makeup."
	"Duh!" Ryan said sarcastically.  "That certainly clears
everything up."
	"We're comparing how sons measure up to their dads ... and even
their granddads if we can get them to participate," Dr. Wasserdyne
said.
	"Dad'll participate," Ryan said, again enusiastically.
	"Let Lyle make that decision," I said.
	As if nothing had transpired in the past few minutes, Dr.
Wasserdyne said, "I see you're in good hands, I'll come by again
tomorrow."
	He left before we could say, "Good-bye."
	"Was it something I said?" Ryan asked as confused as I was.
	I just shook my head in astonishment because he had already said
earlier in the day that he wouldn't be seeing Ryan again until the next
day.
	"Wanna feed me my fruit?" Ryan asked, obviously distracted by what
had just happened.
	Almost mechanically, I fed him the jism-marinated dessert.  He
smacked his lips with each mouthful.
	"The only thing that would taste better is if you and Daddy both
jacked off in it."
	"Maybe that can be arranged," I said, feeling a familiar
tightness in my gonads as I thought about watching Lyle jack off.  Then
my thoughts returned to my 'patient.'  "You ready for me to suck that
cock of yours?"
	"Mmmm," Ryan moaned contentedly.
	Before I did, I retrieved the vibrator and held it in front of
him.
	"Oh, god, yeah," Ryan crooned.  "That, too."
	I moved his right leg gently and only far enough for me to
blindly find his butthole.
	"Right there," Ryan urged.
	I pushed tentatively and it slid in.  Gripping his erection in my
left hand, I went down on him.  Just as I closed my lips around the
base, I turned on the vibrator.  As my tongue lapped back and forth
across his cum tube, I searched for his prostate.  When his cock jerked
in my mouth, I knew I'd found it.  I left his cock deep in my throat as
I coaxed the cum out of him with the vibrator.
	Moans, groans and grunts from Ryan told me he was enjoying it.
Only occasionally would I actually suck up to the head of his cock and
go back down.
	The lack of sucking was driving him crazy but he was loving it at
the same time.
	"Unngh, unngh, unnghaaa!"
	I gulped as Ryan unloaded his ball batter down my throat.  I
clenched my throat in a swallowing motion just to add pressure to the
crown.
	"Oh, Jesus Christ Almighty, damn, Daddy!  That's fuckin' awesome.
Oh god, don't quit!"
	I kept the vibrator on his buzz nut the whole time he was
cumming.  To him, it must have felt like an eternity.  I'm sure his
eyes were not only rolled back into his head but crossed to boot.  As
his jerking motions eased up, I eased the vibrator off his prostate and
then tapped his buzz nutt gently several times.  He grunted deliriously
each time it touched.
	When I was sure he was drained, I turned off the vibrator but
left it lodged inside his hole.
	"I love you, Daddy Two."
	"I love you, too, Rascal." I kissed him and asked, "Think that'll
hold you for a while?"
	"What time is it?" Ryan asked impishly.
	"Time for you to get some sleep."
	"Yeah," he said drowsily.
	"Want me to leave the vibrator there until you fall asleep?"
	"I'd love to, but you better not."
	Once again, Ryan amazed me at how mature he was becoming.  Any
other time he would have not only told me to leave it in there but he
would have insisted I leave it running.
	"I'll stick around until you fall asleep.  Then I'll go, okay?"
I asked as I removed the vibrator.
	"Hey," he said, almost asleep, "you forgot to wash your hands."
	When I got back to my apartment, the phone was ringing.  To my
surprise, it was Kevin.  "Got someone here who wants to talk to you."
	"Who?"
	"Mr. Hickey?  This is Rover, sir.  Master Kevin has agreed to let
me to talk to you because I have decided to tell my sons what they need
to know.  Master Kevin feels you should be there when I do it ... so
Jeremy will be more comfortable.  Would you be willing to ... uh,"
	"Name the time and place," I said.  To help Jeremy, I'd phone in
sick if I needed to.
	"Master Kevin said you have a special place and I'm to work it out
with you when we can get together."
	"Next Thursday, noon.  You make the arrangements with Brad and
Jeremy and I'll pick you up."
	"Thank you sir."

To be continued.

Thanks for coming back for more. Maybe some of you readers know of websites
that buy stories.  Or maybe you know of agents who represent authors.  If
so, let me know.  Thanks.  Keep in touch with me at
zestful@myexcel.com