Date: Thu, 27 Jul 2006 14:53:38 +0000 From: Steve Thomas Subject: Just-a-Normal-Boys-Dreams, Ch. 24 This is a work of pure fiction, but based on the author's feelings, beliefs, and in some cases, experience. Come to think of it -- it might not be very pure either! There may be graphic sexual encounters at times between men, so if this offends you, you are invited to retreat. If you are too young or it is otherwise illegal for you to be reading this kind if story, shame on you for reading it - - please stop here. If not, - - ENJOY! Cast of characters: Jack Smith -- uh -- that would be me Billy -- Jack's closest brother, 3 yrs older. Will Smith -- My dad Vivian Smith My mom Art -- Jack's oldest brother, 9 yrs older. Ralph Gilmore -- a new friend - deceased Stacy Whitworth -- a catalyst/friend George Toliver -- old grade school buddy George Toliver, Sr, -- (duh!) Cynthia Toliver -- (Mrs. Duh!) Jim Walls-- George's cousin Uncle Jake Smith-- Will's Brother Aunt Lindy -- Uncle Jake's wife Seth Gary -- One of Jake and Lindy's other nephews Etta -- The Jacob Smith's housekeeper. Jake Smith Jr. Jack's cousin Colin -- Jake's partner Carrie Smith -- Another of the Smith cousins Al -- Carrie's Partner Chris Gary -- Seth's older brother. Craig -- Chris's partner Mario -- Old high school friend Terrence Moynahan -- Carmel Architect Casey Bell -- Terrence's attorney Ryan Crayson-- my husband Ryan Jr. -- our son Ranee -- Our daughter. From Chapter 23: "I just want to -- first -- hold your hand." "Oh!" I THOUGHT I knew what he wanted! "Okay." He offered his right hand. I took hold of it with MY right hand. "No -- your other hand!" I gave him my left hand and we stood face to face, holding hands -- the first time for Ryan -- like lovers. I reached out with my right hand and he put his left in it. We stared onto each other's eyes and Ryan closed his eyes slowly. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly -- audibly -- and said, "At last!" He put a movie into the DVD that I had brought over and we sat on the leather love seat and watched the movie -- holding hands. I decided that I should let Ryan take the lead. He didn't ask anything more of me, but when we said goodbye at the door before I went home, he took my right hand in both his hands and laid it against his lips. "Thanks Jack -- for being so understanding." I drove home, wondering if I really did understand. Chapter 24 Note: Ryan is my son -- or actually Ryan's son -- but it's the same - and he's only seventeen. Much of the detail I have written here is more than I would tell my 17-year-old son. So when you read graphic details it's for the benefit of the reader, not what Jack actually told his boy. Ryan went away on business -- for three weeks. That's when I met Guy. As you know, Rye, once every three months, Rob and Jake co-host an open party for everyone they know. It is of course a mostly gay party. It's usually held between Rob's house and the gymnasium, the pool being in-between. During the winter months, he rents huge space heaters and it's literally winter pool party. They always provide free rides home for anyone that wants. Rob was never a drinker, but he's okay with it as long as people are not rowdy. And if they got that way -- they would answer to the resident bouncer -- Rob himself! I was standing near one of the heaters, wearing a pair of square cut swim trunks. I learned to like them from Luke! They didn't cover too much, but I never liked bikinis. At least not on me! But there were at least a hundred other guys who wore the briefest bikini that they could find. Neither Rob or Jake condoned loose sex at their parties, so the bedrooms were off limits. It was just a very fun event, always attended by most of the community's gay population, always included a band or a disk jockey and it always was free -- except that the liquor was subbed out to the caterer -- for a no host bar -- which meant that the estate was not responsible for others' bad drinking decisions. I was talking to a young guy -- possibly as young as 16 -- who was very curious about a number of things. As we were talking, another guy was talking across the pool, by another of the heaters, to a couple of fag hags that always attended the parties. He looked my way, and our eyes made contact. After that, every time I looked over there he was looking back at me. I smiled demurely and went into the house after about 5 times. In less than 5 minutes, there was a tap on my shoulder. "Hi Jack!" I turned expecting to see someone I knew. But standing there in nothing but a navy blue string bikini was this guy that I had been trading stares with. "Oh! Do I know you?" "No -- but you want to!" He said, his hand still on my shoulder. I put my hand over his and removed it, but held on to it. "So - - who are you?" "Guy!" he said. "I'm the Guy you've been dreaming about!" He said and laughed -- very seductively and heartily. "Nice to meet you guy, I'm -- oh! I guess you already know my name!" "So where do you hang?" He said. "Usually to the left." I said. I wasn't gonna be out-smartied by this cute guy! He immediately looked down. "So you do!" and again he laughed heartily. "And mighty smartly, I must say!" I was getting a little annoyed and a LOT turned on -- and DAMMIT! I was not hiding that fact in my square-cuts! I had the slightest little buzz from a Mai-tai that Craig handed me on the way in. It was just enough to make me horny, but not enough to prevent the tenting in my pants! "Have you seen the gorgeous grounds here?" He said. "I live here." I replied. "Oh! Well, then, by all means, would you do me the honors?" "Huh?" I said. "Show me around." He said. I let myself be pulled past the gym to the commons between the estates. On the way out he stopped by the no-host bar and grabbed me another Mai-tai. It was a lot colder on the commons -- especially since I was in my square cut and he in his bikini. There was snow on the ground, but I thought we'd be right back. The compound had been laid out in a pentagon, with four homes having been built so far. They were separated by orchards and fields of flowers -- when it wasn't winter. Jake and Colin live in one of the homes -- with their kids, Chris and Craig are in another. The largest is Rob's and Denny's, and Seth and Luke were living in a -- you guessed it -- a flat over a garage, while the rest of their home was being built. The middle section was reserved for Uncle Jake and Aunt Lindy, and they had hired an architect to help design it. The last section completed the pentagon and it was reserved for Carrie and Al, but it didn't look like they would be moving any time soon. "And where do YOU stay?" Guy inquired. I had absent mindedly drunk the second Mai-tai more like it was so much lemonade, and my head had started to swim little. "Over there!" I pointed to the flat over the garage. "Outstanding. Where does one put in his application to live here?" He quipped. "Ish kine-a-a family thing.' I was slurring. "Oopsie! Guess I drank that lash -- haha -- las-T drink a little too fas-T." I slowly dropped to my knees and then softly tipped over to the snowy ground. I laughed heartily. "Hey! You okay dude?" He said. "I probably need to get to my room, huh?" I said, trying my best to make sense and do the sensible thing. With Guy's help, I was able to get up the stairs and into my bedroom. He then went for help. I figured he would bring back Seth, but instead it was Jake. "You okay, Cuz?" "A little too-mush My-pie, I think!" I giggled. "He was on at least his second Mai-tai when we walked out here. I feel responsible, because I bought him the second one." "Well, he looks okay." Said Jake. I have to get back to the party, Guy! You know I trust you. Do you want to stay with Jack?" he said like he didn't trust him at all, and it was more like a threat. "Or he'll probably be fine just sleeping it off alone. I wouldn't want to be my cousin in the morning!" "Jack -- is your cousin?" "Yep!" I'd be glad to stay!" Said Guy. "I'm serious, Guy: leave my cousin alone while he's drunk!" And he did stay and he left me alone -- the whole evening! He helped me get into my sleep shorts and tucked me into bed and then said, "I'll be out here on the couch if you need me." "Huh?" I said. "The couch. I'll be just outside your door." "Oh! Can't you stay here -- with me?" I said. "Not tonight, bud. I wouldn't be able to sleep." "Well then, at least you can do is gimme a night-night kiss!" "I'd be happy to do that!" He gave me a sweet, almost virgin kiss. I grabbed him and pulled him down on top of me. Of course the heavy winter blanket was on top of me -- between us. I kissed him passionately, if a bit sloppily. "Don't leave me yet!" I said. "OOO! You're cold!" I said, feeling his still naked skin. "Come in here with me for a time and let me warm you up!" Again he obliged. But after a heavy kissing session, he said he was warm enough and went to the living room, where he found a blanket and rolled up on the couch. Seth and Luke came up later and looked in on me. I opened my eyes. "I have that guy's clothes in this bag. Did you -- um -- do anything with him?" Seth whispered. "No." I said. "He is some kind of chiver -- chivalry -- er -- gentleman! Hahaha!" "Good!" Said Seth and he left the room. He came back momentarily and grabbed the bag. In the morning -- Jake was right! I had a dull throbbing pain in my head! I moaned and instantly Seth was there with a glass of orange juice. "I can't drink orange juice on an empty tummy. Maybe some water?" "You need vitamin C for the hangover. I came in again last night -- a -- after Guy left -- and tried to give you some orange juice, but you were NOT gonna be waked up!" "Again? When were you in a first -- WHAT?" Guy left?"" "Yeah, there was no reason for him to stay. If he were in your bed, I wouldn't have bothered you -- and I'm glad he wasn't -- but since he was on the couch -- and was the chivalrous gentleman you claimed, I helped him get a ride home." "Oh. That's weird." I said. "He seemed to want to get me alone until we got up here and then nothing I did could get him to stay with me." "That IS weird!" "Why?" I asked. "I know that Guy guy. It just surprised me that - - !" "What?" "He normally -- well, you're a big boy! And besides, Jake told me he had a little talk with him." "Oh! -- tell me what I'm -- I mean -- Damn! I liked him -- I think! I may never hear from him again." "Oh, I can put you in contact with him!" Said Seth. I really liked Guy -- for most of the three weeks your pop was out of town. We were a perfect match, size wise. Yeah, in every way, size wise! And we were also a mutual challenge. I wanted to get to know guy -- because I really liked him. He wanted into my pants so bad he could taste it. But he didn't! So after 3 weeks of the constant pursuit and challenge - - I guess I won. He gave up and went away. I was sorry to see him go. He intrigued me, but -- I definitely was not in love. Then your pop returned. As soon as I learned of his return, I went over to your house. Harold answered the bell and opened the gate for me. (Harold is the butler) When he let me in the front door, he told me that your pop was in the study. Apparently he didn't tell Ryan I was coming, because when I walked into the study, your pop was securely wrapped up in the arms of -- none other than -- Guy! "Oh, Hello, Jack!" Said Ryan, somewhat embarrassed. "This is Guy." "We've met." I said. It came out colder than I expected. I knew I had no cause to be indignant, but -- I was plenty jealous! It took Guy another 3 weeks -- that seems to be his limit -- to figure out that your pop wasn't any easier conquest than I was! In the mean time, Chris brought home a guy for me to meet, Lawrence. Lawrence was a super nice guy. I know that all my brothers were disappointed when, after six months, Lawrence and I decided that it wasn't going to work. He is a great guy, and we will ever be friends, but we just didn't click as lovers. And of course you remember Randy, don't you? You were between six and seven when your pop dated him. That lasted nearly a year. By that time, I was tired and just shy of 30, and your pop had already crested the 40 year old mark. When I say tired, I mean I was tired of going from guy to guy. Of course both your pop and I both dated a lot of other guys in between, but after Lawrence and I called it quits, I just decided to drop out awhile. I never told anyone this but -- I decided that I would just wait -- not exactly in hopes that your pop and Randy to split, but -- sort of just in case. The long evenings I spent with your pop watching TV or playing cards were cut to a minimum, mostly because he was usually busy with Randy and I with whoever else I was with. But - your pop and I never stopped playing racquetball. So -- I knew when he stopped seeing Randy: "What's up dude?" I said. "You seem a little bummed." "<> Yeah, I suppose." "How come?" "Oh -- All that time I have spent with Randy -- it's like so much water under a bridge. Like the time was wasted." "Whattaya mean?" I asked. "Well, actually things started deteriorating about three months ago. We just started to drift away from each other. We talked about it and -- even tried to -- make it stop -- or something. Jack, What's wrong with me? Why can't I be happy with just one guy? It seems like I have jumped from guy to guy and -- when I finally found one that was a keeper -- Well, it turns out he wasn't a keeper, after all. Is it me? Is there anyone out there that is right for me?" We had walked to the back of the court and -- even though no one else was there, we were almost whispering. "Ryan -- can I -- um -- bring some dinner over there -- to your house tonight? I'd like to talk some more, because I have been -- going through a similar time. Maybe we can commiserate -- or something -- and from it, both of us come out feeling better about it." "Uh -- well -- sure! But don't bring anything over. That's too much trouble. I'll just ask Harold to go out and get us something." "Aw, don't bother Harold with that. We - " "Believe me, if he gets wind that it's you coming to dinner, he'll be happy to do it. He really likes you!" "He does?" I marveled. "Harold -- likes me?" "Well, I'd hate to lead him on but -- he thinks Jack'd be perfect for me!" "He WHAT?" I thought. I was actually nervous when I arrived at Ryan's front door. Harold answered with a broad smile. "Good evening, Mr. Smith!" "Oh, Harold! Call me Jack!" "Thank you -- Jack!" He beamed! Then he turned to the parlor and announced, "Mr. Smith has arrived, Mr. Crayson." "Come in, Jack!" Said Ryan. The parlor is located to the right of the entry. It's a formal room designed to receive business and formal guests. It's small, and furnished in antique French Provincial furniture, including a love seat and two chairs with red velvet upholstery, plus a commode, a small antique piano and a freestanding antique curio. After Harold took my jacket, I walked in and he stood. I was in front of the loveseat, adjacent to the chair Ryan had just risen from. "Sit!" Said Ryan. We talked about our earlier game and a little about Rob's and Jake's most recent party. We discussed world politics -- which thankfully we were pretty much aligned. We even talked about the weather. But there was the proverbial elephant standing in the room that we were ignoring! Finally, shyly, he said, "Earlier today, I mentioned that," he looked over to where Harold had been standing earlier. "that Harold thought you would be good for me." "I -- I remember." I stammered. I wanted to say something else -- something poignant or funny or clever, but was stopped cold. "Wh - what does JACK think?" Ryan said demurely, looking intently at the obviously expensive oriental hooked rug. All of a sudden I was felt extremely shy and - - extremely gay! "I think Jack'd like to find out." I told that same floor. Our eyes slowly raised to meet. We touched hands and a surge of electricity seemed to emanate from my fingers to my heart. It was like slow motion, as we arose and came together in a warm, gentle hug. Your pop's beard-shadowed face pressed on my own sent a shiver to my toes -- and a charge of electricity to one other extremity -- and he mouthed into my ear, "Finally." I was reminded of the first time he said that to me, as I was standing at his door over a year before. His 5-o'clock shadow tickled my lips as I kissed his cheek, then his mouth found my own. "Dinner, Sir!" Announced Harold. We looked toward the formal dining room, and Harold was smiling his approval of our embrace, as he opened the double French doors leading into the room. "We're eating in the dining room?" Asked Ryan. "You didn't specify, sir, and - " "We'll take our dinner in the kitchen as usual - " Harold lowered his head, and his lower lip protruded, as he stepped back. Little Ryan (That's YOU of course!) and Ranee were already seated at the table, beautifully decorated with fresh flowers and formal table service. "Okay Harold. We'll be in as soon as we wash up." Flanking the entry were two small, closet sized rooms. One was a cloak room, the other was an ornate lavatory. As he walked into the lavatory, he kept up a string of conversation so that I was obliged to follow. He washed hid hands and then turned and handed me the soap. "Close the door, please." He said. We had many times showered together after swimming or racquetball at Rob's, but there was something intimate about him peeing while I was in the small room with him. I remembered kissing George while I peed and so, I put my hand on his neck. When he looked over, I kissed him. I could see the hair on his arms raise as he let out a low moan. "That was a first!" he said as he zipped his fly. "And - - awesome!" He rinsed his hands again, as I washed my own. We then, hidden behind the bathroom door, kissed each other for the first time in earnest. "Wow!" He said. "Who taught you to kiss like that?" "It's not important. What is important is that it felt great, and you seem to have had it down before we did it, too." "Not really. I kissed Melissa, but never like that!" "Maybe it has a lot to do with who we're kissing." I suggested. "We better get out to dinner!" he laughed. We walked into the dining room and no sooner had we sat down, when 2 ½-year old Ranee said to me, "You gonna be my new poppy?" There was total silence in the room. Finally it was Harold who said, "Well! That was interesting!" Ryan looked at his little daughter, smiled and said, "We'll have to talk about that, Sweetheart. What made you ask that?" "Rye-Rye tode me." You were almost six at the time and you didn't care that she "tode" on you. After dinner we all went outside to watch a lunar eclipse. Your pop was holding Ranee and you were sitting on my shoulders. And then it was your turn. You said, "Pop, you never answered Renny's question. Is Jack gonna be our other pop?" "What I said, Rye," said your pop, "was that we will have to talk about it. But not now. Okay, Rye guy?" "Okay, Pop! But -- I want Jack!" you said in the lowest "manly" voice that a six-year-old could muster. Let me tell you, Rye, from that time on, I was in love -- with you! I fell head over heels with the 6-year-old before I did with the dad! After you kids went to bed, we DID talk about it -- or rather your pop did some explaining. Apparently he had been talking to you, after he determined that he was gay, that you should understand that he would not be marrying a woman, but rather you would have, like, another pop. So, soon after that talk, I came back into your lives. So your questions were as natural as the leaves falling from the trees in autumn. "But you didn't become our dad until 4 years later, Dad." "Yeah, we took our time -- that's for sure." I said. "Did you know that I worried about that -- a lot?" "Oh, Rye! No!" "Yup! I was so happy when you finally moved in with us! I remember that I called you Jack up to then, and as soon as you moved in, I started to call you Pop." "Yeah. Then we decided that since you already called your pop that, that you should call me Dad." "Dad, I used to spy on you!" Said the tall 17 year old boy." "What? You mean me and your dad? We were so careful not to - " "No. When you dated other guys. I used to climb the fence between our property and Uncle Rob's, and look for hours. And sometimes you were with someone else -- besides my dad - " "We weren't dating exclusively during that time." "I KNOW!" Said Rye. "And I hated every other guy Pop brought home -- no matter how nice they were! But deep down, I knew that Pop loved you, so the guys YOU were with got the worst of my hate." "Geez, Rye, I never knew that! I would have been more careful if I did!" "After you moved in with us -- and we started calling you Dad -- I would strain to hear everything that you and Pop said to each other. Sometimes you would argue and I would cry." "Oh, Rye! Does your Pop know all this?" "NO!" "Why?" I asked. "I nearly forgot about it, but back then, I was afraid to ask -- for fear that Pop would tell me that you didn't really love each other. It really worried me when you yelled at each other -- and when one of you would cry out. Did you used to have fist fights?" "Omigod, Rye! We weren't fighting!" "Huh?" "I -- guess you're old enough -- to -- but your Pop should be the one to tell you this stuff." "He never tells me anything." He shrugged. He said it not in rancor, but just as a fact. "Well, I always thought I was sheltered -- shy -- until I met your pop. Maybe that's why he married me!" "I'm so glad he did, Dad!" Our son was such a good kid! I guess we have pretty well sheltered him too. Well, both him and his sister. But at 14, Ranee, like most girls that age, is trying to be 25! She puts on heavy makeup -- which we discourage but don't forbid. Wally has helped a lot in giving Ranee a female pattern, but she isn't much help in this area. She never wore makeup -- nor shaved her legs. Both kids accept me as much as their biological father to be their dad. They both call me Dad, but whereas Rye calls Ryan Pop, she dropped the poppy and now calls him Daddy -- especially when she wants something from him. He gives in way too often in my opinion. This is one area I have to just back off. I've seen too many guys split up over this very thing. The bio-dad has the veto power. Jake and Colin -- and all the other "brothers" who have adopted -- pretty much share those responsibilities. Rob is more dominant than Denny and seems over protective, but that's from his southern upbringing. Craig and Jake keep all the kids laughing most of the time. Colin and Chris are more reserved, but they support their partners' antics, for the very reason that they both know they don't have that talent. Seth and Luke seem very happy without children. I've never heard either of them wish for them. And really, they are surrounded by them anyway. In many ways, the Smith/Balser compound is run like a commune, so we all are parents of a sort to the kids. And even though there is a substantial wall between Smith/Balser and our property, we have over the last few years become as one. "Dad?" Said Rye. "Yes, Sweetheart?" I said. "You were going to - explain something to me." "Uh -- yeah. As I said, that's something that your Pop should maybe be talking to you about." "What should I be talking to him about?" Ryan walked in. "The facts of life." I said, amused at my quick answer. "I think that by seventeen he pretty much has that down!" Said Ryan. "You'd think so, huh?" I said. "Ryan, your son loves me a lot." "Our son!" Said Ryan. "Yes, I know. But he seems to be a little worried about our fighting so much." I said, trying to keep a serious face. "Fighting?" Ryan marveled. "When do we fight? I mean we have our disagreements, but -- fight? When do you see us fighting?" Ryan asked his son. "Pop -- do you think that Ranee and I can't hear you guys yelling and screaming after you go to bed at night -- and sometimes during the day. Just because you close your door doesn't mean we can't hear you." It was everything I could do to hold my self together, as I saw recognition color my Ryan's face. And that color started out as pale, then turned pink, and then scarlet. "Oh, Rye!" Said Ryan. "We weren't fighting!" "What were you doing, Pop? It didn't sound good!" If possible, Ryan turned even redder and just stared at his son for a long moment. Then he turned to me in his desperation. "Rye -- when we are making all that noise -- we're not fighting at all -- but rather just exactly the opposite." I said, hoping that Rye would pick up on what I was saying. Either he did pick it up and was playing with us -- or -- as his blank expression indicated -- he hadn't a clue. Probably the latter. "Sweetheart, as I said, earlier, it's about time that you learned a few things. Rye -- that is the sound of -- making love!" "Huh?" Rye said, now as bewildered as his dad was embarrassed. "That's fucking Scary!" This time I ignored his language. "No, Rye, what's scary is that your sis also has heard it. Have you talked about it -- with her?" "Well -- yeah! Why -- um -- well -- why do you yell and scream?" He saw the amused look on my face and as this was about sex, he started to get a grin on his face. He looked at his dad, and even Ryan was smiling by this time. My Ryan looked so cute with a smile and a red face -- and so damned sexy with his day's growth of beard! "Rye, this is something that many -- probably most -- men -- never learn about sex. It is better with noise." Rye got a huge grin on his face. For a 17-year-old, this is the stuff of the first importance. I looked at Ryan, to judge if I should say any more. He nodded. "Rye -- we have 40 acres in back of us -- and another 40 before the Henningsons place. Some time when you want to masturbate," I started. Now it was Rye who turned red. "Yes, Rye, sometimes we hear YOU." Ryan and Rye definitely looked like father and son with their faces and necks drenched in red. I started to laugh. "What?" Said Rye. "Son, I think I know what your Dad was going to tell you." Said Ryan. "He's telling you to go out where no one can hear you and -- have a wild jack-off session! And by wild, I mean, when you get to your orgasm, let every emotion in you come out. Scream, yell -- laugh or even CRY if it feels good!" Rye was by this time laughing, so both Ryan and I joined him. "And expect to see some workmen in the house by next week!" "Workmen?" Said Rye. "Yes, dammit! I'm going to have all our bedrooms super sound-insulated!" Said Ryan. "You're a goober!" said Rye. "Your pop wasn't joking about going out and having a wild wank, though! Most men think it's all manly to keep it low key, while their wives let off all their steam. Rye, it's NOT fem to let it go! Try it once and I know you'll be hooked. And -- by the way -- your parner someday -- will especially appreciate it." "How come?" Ryan finished this one: "Because the most important thing that a person can do is satisfy his partner. And your partner will know she's satisfied you if you go off like a bomb!" 17-year-old Rye was grinning so wide that he must have been getting cramps in his face, as he looked back and forth at Ryan and me. Then he got suddenly serious. "Um -- Dad -- Pop -- one more thing. What can I tell Ranee?" "You talk to her about this stuff?" Ryan said, horrified. "No, Pop! About you and Jack fighting! What do I tell her?" "Oh. Tell her not to worry, we aren't fighting. Tell her we're just playing games." "Dad!" She's not stupid! What kind of games do you think she will think of?" "Huh?" Both Ryan and I responded. "S & M, Dads! S & M!" "Ohhh! Omigod!" Said Ryan. "You better let us talk to her!" "Okay, but don't wait too long, Pop! I don't want to have to lie to her." "Well, if she asks you anything, tell her to talk to us." Ryan's very liberal with that "us" word when it comes to these issues! "Right now, I have to meet with a client. Sorry, but I won't be back until quite late. It's a dinner appointment." "That's why you're all dressed up! I hope we didn't make you late." Said Rye. "Nope. I wouldn't have been! See you -- well, I'll see YOU tonight, Jack. Probably see you in the morning, Son. Bye!" He hugged and kissed both of us. "Ranee is out riding Blue Boy. Kiss her bye for me." As soon as Ryan was gone, Rye attacked me again: "So where were we?" "Huh?" I said. "Back to when you and Pop started to date again. When did you start doing it?" "Doing `it'?" I played stupid. And truly I didn't know what he was referring to. "Did you ever -- um -- screw -- with anyone before my Pop?" "Screw?" "Dad! You know what I'm talking about!" "I want to just make sure I do! Are we talking playing around or -- actually having sexual intercourse?" "The intercourse thingy. You guys do that -- don't you?" "We do -- yes -- but neither of us did it with anyone else. We didn't do it with each other until after we were married." "What's it feel like -- doing it?" "You mean -- being the bottom -- or the top?" "Huh?" He said. "Being on the giving or receiving end?" I asked. "Well, I know what it feels like to have something stuck up my butt! I don't like it! No I mean to -- fuck -- someone. Sorry Dad, I just don't know how else to describe it. I said screw a minute ago and you didn't know what I was talking about." "Think about how good it feels when you jerk off. Then try to imagine how much better it will be when you go out away from the house and yell your lungs out. Now multiply that by about a thousand." I said. "And -- what have you had stuck up your butt?" "I cleaned a carrot real smooth and did it." I smiled. "Okay. It's not the same, but don't worry about that. Bottom line is you will like sexual intercourse much better than masturbation!" "So if you and Pop didn't do it -- until sometime after you were married -- how long did you wait?" "Until we figured out how to do it!" "That shouldn't be too difficult!" "But it was, Rye. When a man and woman do it, she has natural lube and also she's never as tight as an anus. We tried it as soon as we were married. We talked about it before, but decided to wait. Then it took us awhile before we learned that we weren't doing it right." "Learned? Who taught you?" "Actually, after a few months of trying and being disappointed, I talked to your Uncle Jake. He told me that we probably weren't using enough lube. And to try to relax more, whoever was on the receiving end. We just kept trying more and more lube until that made it easier to relax. Once we both learned to relax, we used less lube." "I wish I could watch once!" He said. "That's not gonna happen!" I shot back. "That's about as close as two people can get to a spiritual experience, doing something physical. It's much too sacred to do it for any kind of audience. " "But porn stars - " "I feel sorry for them. They will probably never know that intimate nature of sex. Sex is the ultimate beautiful activity, Rye. Please don't ever take it lightly." When Ranee came in from riding we all cleaned up and had dinner in the kitchen. The children went about doing they normal routine. They both went to bed at the normal time, no one worrying about Ryan. He said he would be home late. I started to get concerned when 2:00 PM rolled around and he had not at least called. I thought about the times I had done that to my parents. Ryan had never been that thoughtless before, so I started to worry. I called the State Police to see if there were any accidents that they knew about. There was none. It was a quiet night. I told them that Ryan was missing. He asked my relationship to Ryan. There was a long pause when I told him that Ryan was my husband. I was then told that, being an adult, they could not do anything until at least 12 hours had passed beyond when we expected him. We were eating breakfast when the house phone rang. I had not told the kids that their Pop hadn't come home last night. He often would sleep late when he was out late with a client. Harold answered the phone. "Crayson-Smith residence! Harold speaking." He then got a shocked look on his face. "No he -- oh! Oh my -- oh no!" He hung up. Then Harold started to give the orders. "Turn off all your cell phones!" He said it with such authority that we all did it, no question. He took the house phone off the hook. "Everyone remain calm. Your father has been kidnapped." Both kids screamed. My heart sank even further than it already was. Notes: Comments always welcome to Steve at stevethomas535@hotmail.com. Thanks and love, Steve