Date: Thu, 22 Apr 1999 06:22:31 PDT From: pommels guy Subject: Billy : Chapter 12, Epilogue CHAPTER 11 A Parting - Monday Morning I awoke with a start. It took me a minute to recall where I was. I was stiff and cramped from sleeping in the chair. I looked over at Billy but he was still asleep. A nurse wandered in to check on Billy, and then left. I got up and walked over to the bed. Billy seemed to be resting more comfortably. In sleep he looked as angelic as a young child. I used my hand to brush his hair back off his forehead. I caressed his cheek. I slid my hand down his neck and under the sheet. I squeezed his hard pecs and stroked his nipples. Finally, I just let my hand rest on his chest, which was rising and falling gently with his breathing. I bent down and kissed Billy on his lips. Billy's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at me. "Richard... you didn't leave me." "Of course not Billy. I'll always be here when you need me." "Where's Todd?" "He left right after they brought you to the hospital." Billy closed his eyes, but not before I noticed tears welling up. I began very gently rubbing his chest with one hand and stroking his hair with the other. With his hand Billy pulled my face down to his. Our kiss was long. When I came up for air, Billy started crying. "Billy, what is it?" "I'm through! My gymnastics is over! I'm a failure!" "Billy, we're not going to speak of success and failure right now. We're going to talk about setting new goals. We're going to talk about your strength and dedication. We're going to talk about love." Billy composed himself. "Richard, I do love you." "I know, Billy." "Richard, I'm in pain. Can you make me forget it?" "What do you want me to do, Billy?" "Of all the things we've done, I love your blow jobs most of all." "Do you really? More than fucking me?" "Yeah. I like fucking, but when you go down on me, it's beyond description. I really know how much you love me when you do that." My right hand moved from his chest downward. My earlier impression had been correct, Billy was completely nude beneath the sheet. The sheet started forming a tent as Billy grew larger. I pulled the sheet away as my hand sought Bill's dick. Even in a hospital bed, injured and weakened, Billy's body was still beautiful. My hand reached its goal and I slowly and gently stroked Billy to full arousal. I sucked Billy like I had never done before. I took him slowly. As my head moved up and down, Billy quietly moaned. He began to move beneath me, and I felt his whole body go rigid. "Billy! What's wrong?" "I'm sorry, Richard. My leg hurts too much." "That's OK Billy. We can wait." I used a dry wash cloth to gently rub Billy dry. His dick was still at more than half mast. I pulled the sheet back up to Billy's shoulders. He grinned at me and pushed it back down to his waist. "I know you like looking at my chest," he said, "and that doesn't hurt! There's no reason you can't be happy." I hugged him as best as I could as he lay there. I settled back into my chair. A nurse came in, saw Billy was awake and went to get the doctor. He came in, took a good look at Billy and spouted a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo. The bottom line was that although Billy would probably walk again, he would always limp. No more gymnastics for Billy. They left. I went over to Billy, stroked his chest, kissed him and let him know I loved him. Later that day, Billy's parents came. I left him in their care. He was going back to California when he could travel. His parents would help him rebuild his life. Who would help me? Billy took my heart with him. The telephone is a poor substitute for being with your lover, but it's better than nothing. It was a long drive back to Saint Louis, but Billy and I were destined to be together again. Chapter 12. Epilogue The clock radio came on. It didn't wake me up though. I'd been tossing and turning for hours. It had been a "Motown Night", my term for living out the lyrics of my favorite songs. "Last night I couldn't get to sleep at all, no, no. The sleep I got was just a waste of time, I couldn't get to sleep because you were on my mind." That one and, "Morning's just a moment away and I'm without you once again." I kicked my feet over the side of the bed, made the monumental effort of sitting up, and then struggled to my feet. I headed toward the bathroom and pulled the Prozac out of the cabinet. Taking one, I thought to myself, "I never needed this before Billy." Billy. Had it really only been a month since I told Billy I couldn't continue our relationship? Our relationship that had started on such a high note nine years ago, only to die a long, lingering death over the last four years. Looking back I guess it really started dying at the moment of birth, just as we all do. I headed toward the kitchen for my morning bowl of Wheaties. Plopping down at the kitchen table I saw the pile of mail that had been accumulating for weeks. Big mistake. There on the top of the pile was the piece of paper that had been the final death knell for Billy and me. It was a birth announcement. Billy and his wife Cathy were proud to announce the arrival of their second child, a daughter this time. I thought back to that first weekend with Billy. The total love we shared. The unbelievable sex! The promise of a bright future and no hint of the storms over the horizon. When I left Billy in the hospital with his parents I had no inkling of the paths we would traverse in the nine years of our relationship. Relationship? Love? Friendship? Mutual lust? What the hell was it anyway? Billy had gone home to live with his parents while he recuperated from his injury. Then came the surgery. Then came the second surgery. Then came the suicide attempt. I had rushed to California after Billy's Mom called. His Dad wouldn't let me in the house. When I telephoned no one answered. Caller ID is the instrument of the Devil! A whole year went by before Billy finaly called me. He had moved out of his parent's house and was working as a kid's gym coach at a place in the Sacramento area. Could I please come to visit? "Just call my name, and I'll be there!" This bleak morning I didn't feel up to remembering the good times Billy and I shared for those three years. I wanted to wallow in self-pity instead. My thoughts leapt ahead to 1995, the year Billy told me he was getting married. Just like that. January 2, 1995. I'm at home in Saint Louis. I haven't been to California to visit Billy in six months, but we talk at least four times a week. This cold, dark day the phone rings. "Hello?" "Richard, it's me." "Billy! You just made my day!" "I need to talk." "You sound terrible, what's wrong?" "I'm getting married Saturday." "Yeah, right! And the College of Cardinals is electing me Pope tomorrow!" "I'm serious Richard." Billy went on to tell me that "Cathy" was a coach at the gym where he worked. Billy was tired of "living a lie"; he wanted to be "normal" and have a family. His parents wanted grandchildren. His Mom was tired of making excuses about why he wasn't married. Parents of boys at the gym would feel "more comfortable" if he were married. "Do you love her, Billy? Do you love ME, Billy?" "Richard, I'll always love you. I just can't have sex with you anymore. I'm not really gay you know." "Goodbye Billy." Click. The phone rang and rang. I just stared at it. I walked down to the package store for a bottle of Ancient Age, thinking the name about summed up how I felt. I quit drinking while I was together with Billy. He was such a health nut he didn't want me to drink anymore. I didn't buy any Camels though like I would have done before I met Billy. I quit smoking for me, not him. Instead, I just went home and drank out of the bottle. A lot. A whole lot. I mean, to the last drop. And then I cried. "Take a good look at my face. You'll see it's easy to trace the tracks of my tears." Billy didn't like Motown. We made a show of being friends. Birthday cards. Christmas cards. I didn't go to the wedding though. And then, six months after the wedding, the call from Billy. Cathy was pregnant. Couldn't I be happy for him? I tried. I swear I tried. But vivid images of just how Cathy got pregnant kept going through my mind. And my lunch kept coming back up. And the empty bottles of Ancient Age accumulated. Two months later. The phone rings. "Richard?" "Billy? Is that really you?" "I'm coming to Saint Louis for a gym meet next week. Can I please see you?" I opened the door and there stood my beautiful Billy. He looked exactly the same as that first evening in Kansas City so many years earlier. The hug was just as warm. The kiss was great! The sex was incredible! The guilt was unbelievable. What was I doing? Billy was a married man with a pregnant wife. The ice blue eyes, the smile I knew so well, the still hard body of my dream lover helped me forget the guilt, or so I thought. Every two or three months Billy or I would get on a plane and somehow sneak a few hours of hot sex. And that's what it was. We had sex, we didn't make love. And then, a month ago, July 1, 1998, the announcement came. "Billy? Hi, it's me. I can't do this anymore Billy. I just can't do it. God help me, but I CAN"T DO IT!" Click. The End ******************************************************************** Well guys, I hope you liked this series. I'm starting a new series in which I (Richard) try to forget Billy by throwing myself into volunteer work with my college fraternity, Tri-Tau. The series will contain a lot of beautiful college boys and a handful of old geezers like me. Thanks for all the support and encouragement I've received during the Billy story. For those who are just dying to know the truth, Billy and I are still close friends, but not lovers, and he named one of his sons after me. Well, I hope you enjoy the new series. So long for now. Richard pommelsguy@hotmail.com