Date: Sun, 8 Jan 2012 09:18:12 +0000 From: reece . Subject: The End? : The End Part 2 This contains gay love and sexual acts as well as some major emotional turmoil. If such material offends you, or you are not of age in your region for this type of reading material then please leave for your own good before you get caught however if you don't heed this advice and lets face its if you are underage or in an area where this illegal I cant stop you so with that said... Any characters mentioned in this story are purely fictional as is the story any relevance is purely coincidental. Please do not copy this and post it elsewhere without asking my consent before hand. Any questions, comments, suggestions, corrections or anything else please just send me an e-mail at reece_108@live.co.uk. Please remember I am human with feelings so if you don't like what I write please `put me down gently'. I just wanted to also say that I probably wont give the characters names so that it gives you the reader room to add your own set of names making the story unique for everyone. Or you can just stick to their titles in the family. The End? From Part 1 "Yes I put my son in his place. He may be a grown man, he may have been in the army, he may have kids himself but he's still my son and I can still guide him towards being better like any good parent should and before you ask as I can see the rising fear in your face I didn't out you to him I just said if you were then he should get some balls and protect you from your bible bashing mother." She said it all with such heartfelt concern and care for me I nearly cried. Nearly being the main thing as I don't like to cry at soppy stuff. Most of the time. Yet she also said it with that same sense of giddiness and happiness. "You didn't answer my other question. Why are you so happy?" I asked once again with growing confusion. "Because-"and before she could answer we both heard that other voice at the door. It was deep and gruff and it said "because I grew a pair." Part 2 "D-D-Dad "I stuttered out suddenly feeling very nauseas thanks to the situation but also the morphine wasn't helping with my body. "Son its okay, it's perfectly fine I'm alright after chatting with your gran" he said to me in a softer than usual tone and I realised there was a spark of hope for me and when my gran heard those words and she couldn't keep the grin off her face and the pride out of her eyes. "I'm gonna be here for you son I'm gonna help you get past this" and there it was "past this" reverberated in my mind and my spark of hope fizzled out. Now I thought I was taking it bad but for some reason my gran took it a lot worse. "I'm not gonna condemn you boyo, I'm not gonna kick you out I'm gonna help you through this and ill be with you every step of the way" He continued to say. Now if I wasn't lying in bed with two vertical scars running up my arms and feeling angry and hurt I would have found it funny. He was accepting my sexuality as a disease - one that he will help me get past. As my spark of hope fizzled my gran's face turned so pissed off it would have scared the shit out of Voldemort. Her proud filled eyes emptied out only to be replaced with anger and shame. Her grin dropped to the floor at the same speed that her hand fell on the back of my dad's head with a loud THWACK that echoed around the room. She withdrew her now red hand from the back of my dad's now red head. He turned, perplexed, to her. "What was that for?! You said to stand by him!" he said with rising anger in his voice. She glanced in my eyes before she could respond to him. She glanced in my eyes and saw the livid rage seething in my irises. She gave me the floor. "When she said to stand by me she meant to support me through my life! This is not some disease that's going away this is how I am made; this is me in gods design! This is coming from my brain structure this, if you want to get technical, is coming from a chromosome called XQ28! This is not a choice if it was a choice I wouldn't have felt the need to die, if it was a choice I wouldn't make the decision for my family to hate me, if it was a choice I wouldn't make the decision to be hated for my entire life by every other half headed idiot! You may wish to disown me for having an abomination for a son but you, you my sweet father are a heretic who makes war on others in the name of god and you are a traitor who betrays the trust and need of your own son. You belong in the sixth or ninth circle of hell. Take your pick." I vehemently screamed at him grabbing the attention of some of the hospital staff outside the door. "Is everything all right in here" one of them asked. "Fine" me and my gran replied in unison whilst my dad stood there gawping at the floor whether it be in shock or shame is beyond my knowledge or even my care. "This person was just leaving" my gran continued catching my dad's attention now that he realised that two people were seething in the room. "Boyo-" he started, except my gran cut him off before he had a chance to protest. "He is not your boyo and you are not his father. I am not your mother and you are not my son." She quietly said through her clamped teeth. "Come back when your ready and we will reprise those roles" she said with the anger of a volcano yet spoken as softly as the inside of Ugg boots. The glimmer of spark that was in me was evidently now in him and I couldn't help it. Call it human nature or call it plain rage I wanted it to fizzle or at the least dim. "You might reprise your role gran but I honestly don't know whether I will be able to look at him let alone call him dad again" I said hearing the sobs increase just outside the door as the words left my mouth. I have a mean streak in me but after living life caged for so long, well it all bubbles to the surface at some point. The bright look of pride was in her eyes and a small smile was slowly making its way across her face. "I'm so proud of you. That took a lot of courage" she whispered. "I'm just off to the vending machines do you want anything?" she asked. The darkness was coming. I know it sounds like sci-fi stuff but it's not its bloody unconsciousness. "McCoy's salt and vinegar crisps please" I said back. She walked out and I softly whispered to myself "who's the man now?". Then darkness claimed me. Dishy doctor. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Om nom nom. Good enough to eat is a common phrase for good looking people and let me tell you I wanted my mouth on every bit of this man. There are some people that deserve to be doctors purely for the fact that after going through hell there is a smiling, friendly, sexy - in god only knows how many different ways – face looking in your eyes telling you its going to be alright and that your looking good and you've made a full recovery. Square jaw, bright blue eyes, raven black hair and six foot at a guess. Man of my dreams and apparently my dick seemed to think so as well as it rose to full mast. Now I'm not blowing my own trumpet when I say I'm well endowed at eight inches I would say I'm well endowed as I'm two inches above average and besides as much as id love to blow my own trumpet I'm not flexible enough. However unfortunately the wedding ring was a turn off as well as having my gran and the doctor catching sight of the bulge under the sheets was also a massive turn off but turned me red in the face. I tried to commit suicide not because I was ashamed but because I had no other escape. He was droning on about dates and times and discharging me with a husky voice that drove me wild. Partly because I would love to rip mine and his clothes off and have wild passionate animalistic sex with him and partly because I had to concentrate on the fact that he was married and my gran is in the room and to keep my hard on down. So naturally I thought of lesbians. Now for most boys this equals massive turn on but for me one woman having sex is bad but two borderlines with therapy needed. I don't have a thing against lesbians or the female body or even vaginas for that matter its just what they do with them the thought of shoving my dick or my tongue in a place that not only piss comes out of but blood and babies as well. Eugh. Although in saying that I would love to shove my tongue and dick into a man's ass. My life is fucked as I'm the type of person who goes for older, bigger, more muscular, hairier guys. But I have a major problem. I'm not a slave, I don't like BDSM in any form other than the very light stuff and I'm a versatile-top. Yes that's right I'm screwed. I just want that type for the feeling of safety and for the fact that I strongly dislike screaming queens. Live and let live. I know. But. When I start to get attacked in later life because effeminate and overtly camp gays not only fit the stereotype but forward it into society then it becomes a problem to me. That's why I want a real man to connect with on an emotional, intellectual and - as many times as he can - on a physical level. However due to my area and my friends and my family and the severe lack of guys that fit this description that are gay that can be found easily and of course the fact that I'm underage to go on dating websites and do anything without my parents consent piles up against me. Even with my birthday in a few days I would still have to wait a year. My gran said something about the crisps being on the cabinet before I started slipping back out again. Then she said "oh and by the way the banshee is coming round". And I giggled all the way into the darkness. "My baby boy!" she wailed. Bloody bitch is what I thought but remember you devout little Catholics out there `honour thy mother and father' so I didn't say any thing and tried to get back to sleep. Unfortunately she wouldn't stop sobbing and I couldn't help think that maybe she would cry herself into a coma. Oh the amount of times I've silently hoped for that. No such luck unfortunately. I opened my eyes to see my cringing grandma about to open her mouth until I said "hey mum" knowing that I probably diffused a situation. My gran has always hated my mother. With passion. "Oh my sweet son! How are you baby? How are you my sweet baby boy?" she wailed in between sobs and then I noticed the bible resting on her lap." I've been praying for you son" she whispered. Why first a dishy doctor that I cant have then getting hard in front of my grandmother then reminiscing about how my love life or more specifically my chances of a love life are screwed and now this. It can't get worse touchwood. Then I realised there's no wood to touch. Crap "I thought I would come down" she said her tone changing to the one she uses during discipline. "I thought I would come down to explain to you why you must repent on your actions son. Why you must repent before you go to hell and burn there for what you have done" she spoke with an authoritive tone that would usually scare me. I couldn't deal with this right now and I had something my mother didn't have. I have a very obviously pissed off feisty experienced lady that had a passionate hatred for my mother and what she was doing right now only fuelled my trump cards anger. It turned to my gran and said "please". All the permission she need apparently because before my mother could even scold me for turning away from her my gran roared. "Get out you filthy good for nothing little bitch. Too long I have put up with your crap because my son chose you but my grandson unfortunately did not get to choose you so get out. He has been through hell and all you can do is be a preacher!!!!! You don't deserve top be called a mother!!!!!" she rattled off like a Gatling cannon. And my mother started retracting dumbfounded staring at my huffing grans face before glancing to the small smile on my lips. And once again the darkness swallowed me up. "I don't know whether you can hear me or not boyo but I need you to know I love you" my dad was whispering to me as I was floating in between sleep and being awake. "I love you son and always will and if this truly is as you say a part of who you are then there's nothing I can do to change that" he spoke in a sombre tone "I really never wanted this for you and never would have guessed it. You like running, you like cycling, you like playing rugby. I'm just finding it hard to wrap my head round son so please just give me a lil time" he said to me as well as to himself. "Have all the time you need dad" I groggily croaked out. "And when your ready to accept me then we'll talk" I stated to him before letting the darkness take me. After my brush with death I have never felt more alive. Now it could just be the adrenaline from the day's events or it could be the drugs in my body or a new height of spiritual awareness. Either way im alive and I love it. Whether they hate me or love me, shun me or accept me I'm going to change. The closet doesn't exist anymore. I might cause a few ripples. Please email me what you think. Don't worry there will be some sex later on I just want to build up the story first and want to see the readers reaction before anything else happens. Reece