Date: Mon, 23 Sep 2019 12:43:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Fritz <fritz819@yahoo.com>
Subject: Raising Boys 3

Thanks for reading my stories and for all the correspondence.  I hope you
will free to drop a me note at fritz819@yahoo.com.  Criticism is helpful
– I'm a big boy.  I can take it.  And, as always I invite you to
contribute to the archive online at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.

Raising Boys
                                                                         3
My friend and business partner, Ricky, and I were at our alma mater for a
planning session with the fraternity brothers as we did at least one
evening a month.  Although we were both incredibly busy with our company,
Rick and I had continued as alum advisers to our fraternity chapter The
college was about two hours south of my house and I usually drove home
after our meetings or just spent the night at mom's.  That night we had met
for over three hours, as construction on the new frathouse was to begin
shortly and there were a lot of decisions to be made. Then Rick and I
joined Elliott and the vice-president of the frat for drinks and dinner at
a nearby sports bar.  The company was great.  Both kids were bright,
personable and funny and I really enjoyed their company.  Elliott and I
left the restaurant in his car, leaving the other two guys talking to some
young women at the bar.  After leaving the restaurant I was riding with
Elliott and he suggested a nightcap at a little dive bar very near campus.
Everyone hung out at the Tide and Tiger for years, particularly after
athletic events so everyone on campus knew the place.  Elliott and I
dropped in and we ran into some friends of his.  We started doing a few
tequila shots and, being a real amateur when it comes to drinking, I ended
up getting drunk as a monkey.

To be honest, I don't remember how we made it back to the frat house.  I
woke up the next morning in Elliott's room at the frat house, naked in bed
with this handsome boy whose arm was draped across my hairy chest.  I
realized I was naked and it was obvious we had sex because I found my dick
covered in a slimy mix of what appeared to be lubricant and drying cum.  I
was pretty scared of what I might have done and concerned, not only for my
own reputation, but also for my young friend.

 I sat up in bed, trying to extricate myself from the young man I had
obviously had sex with.  I needed to pee badly so I quietly got up and took
care of that.  While up, I washed off my messy cock and washed my hands and
face.  I really wasn't much of a heavyweight when it came to alcohol, so I
felt a bit rough as I crept silently back to the bed, trying not to wake
this boy.

 I lay back down with him and as I watched him sleep, I realized that,
while his looks were somewhat boyish, he was quite handsome.  In the
morning light, I observed just a smattering of dark hair on his creamy
white chest with more on his arms.  I could see a thick treasure trail of
more coarse black hairs starting just above his navel and I couldn't resist
carefully lifting the sheet to reveal a thick black bush which was
absolutely natural and absolutely beautiful.  His thighs and his legs were
extremely hairy and I was amused at how the mere sprinkling of dark hair on
his chest gave no hint of the beautiful pelt below.  I could also see his
lovely cut cock – not a giant penis but a lovely piece about 4 inches
long in its resting state.  I felt fascinated by the strangeness of his
cock and I couldn't resist touching it.  I had never touched a cock without
its foreskin and I wondered how it must feel to be missing that piece of
skin.  As this boy's cock twitched almost imperceptibly I just couldn't
imagine why a parent would put a child through such a traumatic, painful
procedure.  It had been a while since I had touched any cock except my own.
Memories of Coach J. were flooding my mind.  I noticed my own cock starting
to harden again and I hoped Elliott wouldn't awaken to find me staring at
him.  Being several years older than this cute college boy, I didn't want
to gain a reputation as a creep.  When I was able to tear my eyes away from
his lovely dick, I looked at Elliott's face.  His eyes were open, though
still foggy from sleep.  He looked a bit embarrassed and was blushing
pretty deeply.

Even so, I could see his meat begin to slowly thicken as it elongated.
After our initial embarrassment, Elliott assured me no one else knew a
thing about what had happened the night before.  He said we took an Uber
back to campus and no one saw us stagger into the house.  I told him I was
married with kids and certainly didn't make it a practice to do this sort
of thing.  He calmly told me I had explained all that to him last night and
had admitted I had only ever had one relationship with another guy.  He
told me he was absolutely discrete when it came to messing around with guys
and was actually dating a girl back home with the intention of getting
engaged after graduation.  Elliott said he had played around with a couple
of friends in high school and just started playing around sexually with
some of the guys who were in the fraternity.  He said it was just not a big
deal for any of them and said he had probably sucked off, been sucked off
by, or jacked off most of the guys in the house.  He said my friend Rick
had let the guy with us last night suck him off a couple of months
ago. Things had certainly changed since I was a student on this campus, I
thought.

He asked me if it was true when I told him I had only been with one other
guy and that I had never fucked another guy before last night.  I admitted
that was true.  I told him that the guy I had the previous relationship
with was an older married man who wouldn't even entertain the idea of a boy
fucking him so I never had that pleasure.  I didn't tell him about the
uninteresting sex life I had with my wife or that I had never even
attempted to fuck her in the butt.  He flashed me a beautiful smile and
told me I was depriving some bottoms of real satisfaction as I had fucked
him like a champion.  It was my turn to blush.

As we were talking the kid was softly running his fingers through the thick
ginger hair on my chest and I noticed I was chubbing up significantly.
Elliott reached down and stroked my tumescent cock and I began to pull
away.  He simply smiled that boyish smile and said, "Please, let me do
this."  What the hell.  I can say that kid gave me some world class head.
When he took both my balls in his sweet mouth, I thought I was in heaven.
I grabbed his head, moved it back so that his mouth was again on my cock.
I shoved it in to the hilt and ten hard thrusts later I blasted his tonsils
with a creamy white load.  The sex with that boy was so cathartic for me.
When I left later that morning, Elliott and the frat vice president came
out to see me off.  I quietly pulled Elliott aside to tell him this was a
one-off so there would be no misunderstanding.  He gave me a masculine pat
on the shoulder and assured me it was cool.  I was determined not to let
this happen again.  Ever.

By this time, my mother's health had begun deteriorating slightly and she
was experiencing occasional episodes of vertigo.  When we moved into our
new home, Marcie and I told her one reason we had chosen this property was
the guest house which we had in mind for her.  I had wanted to make sure
she knew that she would always have a place with us since her worthless
husband had left her alone.  Marcie and I tried to convince her to sell her
house and move into our guest house.  She always gave us some flimsy
excuse, but the truth is that most of her old friends had died or moved
away and the church she had always attended had closed its doors.  I hoped
she would consider moving, but she could be headstrong and I understood it
would be a real change for her to relocate to a town two hours north of
where she had lived all her life.

 I had planned to fly home a day before the baby was due, but Landry had a
different idea and came a day early.  He made it while I was in the air
somewhere over the State of Mississippi, but both mom and baby were fine
when I arrived a few hours after he did.  I was there at the hospital for
five and a half hours when I had to get back to the airport and fly to Los
Angeles.  My mother took care of Ren and helped Marcie and helped move the
family home and get them settled in while I was still out of state.  Mom
moved into the guest house on a temporary basis to help Marcie out with Ren
and the new baby.  She planned to stay for about six weeks just to help
Marcie out and then return to her home.

When I arrived home four days later, my harpy cunt of a mother in law had
installed her ass into the guest room across the hall from the master suite
and was bitching to high hell because I wasn't there when the baby was born
and had left again hours later.  She was quick to brag about her daughter's
husband's successful business, her daughter's beautiful home, her
daughter's BMW, her daughter's work with the Junior League and on the Board
of the Symphony Ball but she continued to criticize me at any opportunity.
She was also highly critical of my six year-old son who was actually a
stranger to me.  He was a quiet, well-behaved lad.  I thought he said very
little but he was quite a handsome little thing with a sweet, shy smile and
excellent manners.  I made a few attempts at bonding with the boy but was
mostly unsuccessful.  He seemed to be a nervous boy, especially when my
mother-in-law was in close proximity.  I made a mental note to talk to
Marcie about that but never followed up.  I avoided the dogfaced bitch as
much as possible to keep the peace and to try to minimize stress on Marcie.

As for me, I was busier than ever with our fast-growing business.  It had
grown beyond our dreams and, while we weren't the Rockefellers, we were
really doing all right.  Mother-in-law from hell had returned to her lair
in the depths of hell four weeks after the baby came and neither Marcie nor
I felt sad to see her ass leave.  Marcie shared with me how much of a help
my mom had been to her with the baby and how she had been an effective
buffer between my wife and her own mother.  She said she was glad to have
had the time with mom and she had become very special to her as they had
established a loving respect she had never shared with her own mom.  I
never explored with her the mother- daughter relationship with her own
mother.  I guess I was always too busy or never quite had the interest in
knowing.

As for me, I guess I had repressed most of my sexual urges, masturbating
once or twice a week and occasionally visiting an adult book store arcade
for a glory hole blow job.  I think I had resigned myself to a sexless
marriage and a limited sex life.  The only times that made me sad were when
I would recall those exciting times with coach, then I'd beat my meat
furiously spraying cum over everything within 6 feet.  I also had a number
of masturbatory sessions recalling my drunken night with Elliott, the frat
boy, and was looking forward to our next advisory meeting although I had
made it clear I was not available to him as a sex partner.

When Landry was twelve weeks old and Mom had just returned to her home
after rebuffing our attempts to talk her into moving permanently into our
guest house.  I was in San Francisco a few nights later when I got a call
from Marcie saying mom had fallen at her home.  I was advised she had a hip
fracture but was in satisfactory condition.  As Marcie couldn't leave a new
baby and my sister was in Hong Kong, I immediately grabbed the first flight
to Birmingham.  I arrived and mom seemed to be doing well.  She and her
orthopaedic surgeon reassured me she was doing well.  A lot of pain but the
prognosis was good for a full recovery with appropriate rehab.  I stayed
with her a couple of hours before leaving to check into a hotel two blocks
away from the hospital.  Just before I left, I hugged mom and she held me
close for a hug.  "Robbie, there is something I really want to talk to you
about, but you look awfully tired tonight.  Let's plan to have a talk
tomorrow."  So I gave her a kiss on the forehead, told her I loved her,
squeezed her hand and headed to check into the hotel two blocks from the
hospital...

I was in a deep sleep when the phone rang at three in the morning.  It was
the hospital urging me to come immediately.  When I got there, ten minutes
later, mom was gone.  Seems she had thrown a clot and died immediately in
her sleep.  After notifying my sister, I made all the necessary
arrangements.  I regretted not having spent more time with her as she had
always been my only emotionally supportive parent.  After the funeral,
Marcie told me how joyful mom had been to help out with the baby and that
she had finally agreed to sell her home and move into our guest house
permanently.  I was glad she had spent that time happily with my family
even if I was absent and regretted we wouldn't have more days together.  On
the night after we buried mom, I was really feeling the need for human
contact.  I called Elliott to see if he was at the frat house and he was.
I lied to the family, saying there was an emergency at the frathouse and
headed there to fuck Elliott.

As I drove to the frat, I remembered my last conversation with mom and
wondered what she had wanted to talk to me about.

Three months after mom's sudden death, I came home late on a Friday.  I
noticed Marcie seemed unusually quiet but she didn't seem to want to talk
about whatever was on her mind.  Her mother had moved herself into the
guest house to "help out" so I figured it was the usual tension associated
with her visits.  The following Wednesday I got a call from the wicked
bitch of the west, my beloved mother in law.  I was in Los Angeles at the
time.  She was her usual bitch self, demanding that I come home immediately
to take care of my wife.  I tried to get her to explain but she unloaded on
me for being away so much and she accused me of ignoring my wife and my
family.

 I called Marcie later that evening and she finally told me she had been
diagnosed with stage four breast cancer.  The following morning, I arranged
flights for her to meet me at Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York,
the gold standard for cancer treatment.  I took two weeks off from the
business and met with some of the finest oncologists in the country.  We
flew out to Houston for a consultation at M.D. Anderson and met with a
brilliant young oncologist at Vanderbilt Medical Center.  The treatment
regimens they recommended were essentially the same so we immediately began
treatment at Vanderbilt primarily because of its excellent reputation.  An
added benefit was that a couple of hours drive from our home.  Nashville
was also a major hub so that was an added benefit as far as my travel was
concerned.

Marcie's treatment involved radiation, surgery, and chemotherapy and, eight
months later, she was pronounced in remission with a good prognosis.  Her
father retired about that time and he and his bitchwife moved into our
guest house permanently.  About midway through her treatment, relations
between her mother and me became intolerable.  We were like oil and water,
so I resumed my active travel schedule.  Marcie was doing great.  I rarely
got any time with the kids, but they had a wonderful mother and now
grandparents living there on the property and actively involved in their
care.  I therefore rationalized my long absences away from home.  I was an
excellent provider but a lousy, absentee father and husband. I continued to
advise the frat and despite my good intentions, I ended up in bed with
Elliott several times, whether in his room or at a nearby motel.  I really
can't explain it.  What we had certainly wasn't love in any traditional
sense.  We were horny guys and we loved getting off together.  I enjoyed
the way he sucked my dick and I loved fucking cute little hairy ass.  With
him it really was about the sex.  No kissing, no hand holding, no public
displays of affection.  Just sex.  Excellent
get-your-rocks-off-I-wanna-cum-in-your-mouth-or-your-butt sex!

For several months after Marcie was pronounced cancer-free, I tried to be
home a bit more, but running the business was very time consuming and
demanding.  Beside, with my dear in-laws in the guest house, the tension in
my home was almost unbearable.  So I fell back into my old ways of
traveling almost constantly.  For the better part of the next four years,
things rocked along.  The success of our business had exceeded our wildest
dreams and we had received a couple of mind-blowing offers from major
medical companies wanting to buy our business.  We had begun negotiations
for a sale just before Marcie's cancer returned.  Her tumors were numerous,
fast growing, and inoperable and she was gone in just over 3 months.  I
pushed hard on my business partner to complete the sale of the business and
came home following Marcie's service to a beautiful house with two sons who
were essentially strangers to me and a hostile pair of in-laws squatting on
my property.

On the evening following Marcie's funeral, I took Marcie's mother and
father, as well as her brother and his wife, my sister and my two boys to
dinner at the private club we had joined a couple of years earlier.  I had
requested and was provided a small private dining room for the meal.  Of
course it was a sad time.  My boys had barely spoken a word to me since
their mother's death.  My sister was supportive but she told me she had to
return to Hong Kong the following morning.  She had risen through the ranks
of a huge media conglomerate and was running Asian operations for the
company.

She said she would love nothing more than to take some time off to spend
with the boys and me but it just wasn't an option at this point in her
life, which I completely understood.  I told her about my last conversation
with mom and asked if she had any idea what she might have wanted to talk
to me about.  She thought for a minute then told me that mom had mentioned
to her that she was troubled by some of the behavior by Marcie's mom when
they were all there helping my wife after the birth of our second son.  She
said mom had seemed quite upset but that she had been rather vague and
non-specific and that was all the information she could give me.  She asked
if Charles and Carol planned to live with us on a permanent basis and I
told her all of that was unsettled at present.

Dear mother-in-law was her usual haughty bitch-self, announcing (without
having discussed with me) that she and the good Pastor Charles had moved
into the master suite of the main house on our property to "take control"
of the children since "their father certainly doesn't have time for them."
She said she had instructed the housekeeper to move their things from the
guest house into the suite while we were having dinner and to move my
things into the guest house.  She said that I was hardly ever in town
anyway, so she had thought that would best so that she could take care of
the boys. I held my tongue during dinner and quietly simmered watching that
pompous bitch announce her intentions.  Marcie's brother, Joe, looked a bit
green and I thought he might actually throw up.  Joe, with whom I had
always had a solid, if somewhat distant, relationship, asked if we could
speak privately when we got back to the house.  I assured him that we
could.

Upon arriving back home, the wicked bitch got the kids ready for bed and
she and her husband retired for the evening.  I invited Joe out to the
guest house for a night cap and to have the talk he had requested.  Joe was
a nice guy, the quiet type who had few opinions of his own, having grown up
in a home with a domineering mother.  I had suspected he might be gay, but
he married, at the age of thirty-four, a girl his mother had chosen for him
and he and his twenty-one year-old wife, Susan were expecting a baby in a
few months. Joe had moved back in with his parents after college and had
recently gotten a teaching job in a small college in Tennessee, about a
three hour drive from us.  After pouring both of us a glass of wine, I
looked over at Joe.  His eyes were misty, and I could tell he was upset.
He sat down in a chair very near mine and leaned forward.  I will never
forget the words he said.

 "Robbie, I have no right to ask anything of you or to tell you what to do,
but for the sake of God Almighty, do not let my mother raise your sons."
What followed, as he shed sad tears, was a litany of horrible behavior on
the part of his own mother, things which were very clearly child abuse.
Joe related how he had been caught masturbating at the age of fourteen by
his mother and she had put white athletic socks on both his hands and tied
his hands together with rope at bedtime every night for the next three
years, until he left for college.  She told him only faggots touched their
privates and accused him of sucking off all his friends.  His own mother
had also accused him of sucking off all his male teachers, saying it was
the only way he could make straight good grades because he was such a
stupid faggot pussyboy.  He also shared with me stories of corporal
punishment inflicted on himself and on my late wife by her own mother.

He told me how they would have shouting matches in the home if Marcie were
even ten minutes coming home from school, with her mother making her strip
naked in front of her father and her brother and accusing her of being a
whore and giving boys hand jobs and sucking their dicks.  Joe told how she
had berated her daughter constantly, accusing her of fucking black boys and
men and how she told her she would end up pregnant, disgracing her family
and her church.  The scenes described by Joe were absolutely horrifying and
I was sad that Marcie had never shared any of this with me.  I asked Joe
what his own father did during these episodes.  He said his father would go
out back to his woodworking shop except for those times the witch wanted an
audience, when he would sit quietly with a hangdog look as if things were
just beyond his control.

According to Joe, the woman would even go off on her husband at times,
accusing him of fucking women in the congregation and even accused him of
sucking off young boys in the church.  Joe related an incident when Pastor
Charles had returned from a fishing trip with the boys and men of the
church.  The bitch accused her husband of having been fucked by all the men
and the boys in the church while on the trip.  Even though Joe was along on
the fishing trip and he tried to defend his father, she would have none of
it, accusing Joe of having even fucked his own dad, along with his friends.
After attempting to defend his dad, his mother went off on her own son,
accusing Joe of being a cocksucking queer faggot who had sucked off all his
friends and all the men in every church his dad had pastured.  The father
was clearly as terrified of his wife's wrath as her children were.  It
became very clear to me what a nightmare home life had been for Joe and for
Marcie, being raised in a home with a mad bitch for a mother.

Joe was sobbing and I let him cry it out.  I attempted to console him and I
thanked him for sharing this information with me.  I told him I was sorry
for what he and Marcie went through.  Joel and I shared real sorrow and
real tears that evening.  There was no doubt in my mind I was hearing the
truth about this vile, evil creature.  She said more repugnant, deplorable
things than anyone I had ever heard, yet she presented herself as a paragon
of virtue and a pillar of the Methodist Church.  Finally Joe related just
how much his mother despised me.  She had told him how I had refused to
have either of my sons circumcised and how she would change that
immediately – even if she had to do it herself with a boning knife from
my kitchen!  He said she was determined to raise my boys in the way she
wanted them raised and I would have no say in the matter.  I was
flabbergasted.  I had always thought she was vile but I had her pegged as
just a mean, yet harmless old bitch of a shewolf.  I hugged brother-in-law
and walked him back up to the main house following our discussion and sent
him up to the guest room where his pregnant wife was waiting.  I assured
Joe that his mother would never spend another day with my boys and thanked
him profusely for sharing the ugly truth with me.  I also knew what I had
to do the following day.  There was not even one shred of doubt in my mind.

The following morning, I rose early.  I had arranged for Joe and Susan to
take my sister to the airport and had arranged for my sons to go with them.
He and the boys, with my sister came to the guest house before six a.m.
The plan was for them to drop sis at the airport, then take my sons out to
breakfast at one of their favorite places so that he and his wife and the
boys would be out of the house for at least two to three hours.  Joe look
at me questioningly when I requested this, but I hugged his shoulder and
told him things would be fine.  I think he was a bit apprehensive about
leaving me alone at the house with his parents, but I tried to give him
reassuring looks.

When I saw their car going through the gate and the gate had closed behind
them, I walked directly up the stone path to the main house.  I walked into
the house and I walked directly up the stairs to the master suite, knocking
loudly on the double doors.

"Who is out there pounding on the door?  Boys, if that is you, I'm going to
tear you both up," she shouted.

My knock was answered by the queen cunt, looking annoyed that she had been
interrupted so early in the day.

"No, ma'am.  It isn't the boys, Carol.  It happens to be the owner of this
house knocking on the door," I said, calmly, with a smile.

"I can't believe you're still here, Mr. Big Shot.  I figured you'd be off
to California to fuck your whores some more now that my daughter's in the
ground," she began. "Things are going to change around here and you can
take that to the bank," she continued.  "My daughter was raising these boys
to be sorry perverts just like their father and their granddaddy but you
can bet that is not going to happen.  Starting today these boys are going
to start learning right from wrong so they can become upstanding young
Christian boys instead of disgusting whore fuckers like their father.  And
I use the term `father' loosely because you haven't really been a father to
these boys.  You just shot your nasty devil sperm into my daughter's cunt
and let it grow, leaving us to raise them and make them into Christian
men."

To say that I wanted with all my heart to rip her nasty tongue from her
vile, disgusting mouth and shove it up her ass is an understatement.  I
will never know how I managed to stay calm and keep my mouth shut during
her tirade.  But I did.  With a calm, quiet voice, I sternly instructed her
and her husband to meet me downstairs in the breakfast room in ten minutes.
She started him hawing about how it would take her longer to make herself
"presentable".

I quietly told her that I didn't really give a fuck how presentable or
unpresentable she might be but she was to be the fuck downstairs in ten
minutes with her husband.  Looking absolutely shocked, she slammed the door
in my face.

When they made it downstairs, you could almost see the steam escaping her
earholes.  I was at my most charming.  In a quiet, controlled voice, I
advised the couple that they were to pack up and vacate my property no
later than five o'clock that afternoon.  Needless to say, Mommy Dearest was
furious, stating how they had come to help, how selfless they had been, how
they had sold their own house and had nowhere to go and how I wouldn't be
able to manage my boys without their help.

I calmly looked her in the eyes and told her that her housing arrangements
were not my concern and not my problem.  I advised her I didn't care if
they lived on the fucking streets or in a goddamned homeless shelter but
that they were no longer welcome on my property and I would call the
sheriff to have them removed and throw their shit out on the street if they
didn't leave voluntarily.  All this time, Pastor Charles just looked at the
floor, remaining silent.  I could see him being exactly like that when the
bitch was attacking her daughter, my late wife, and berating her for all
those painful years.  Then Carol (that was the cunt's name, in case you
didn't know) looked me in the eye with absolute hatred and threatened to
take my boys and raise them herself.

 Let me just say, I don't think I have ever in my life been as angry as I
was at that moment.  She proceeded to tell me that I was no better than my
own adultering father, whom everyone knew had been a serial adulterer and
how she was sure I am cut from the same whoremongering cloth, and had shown
myself worthless as a father and how she and her husband knew high powered
attorneys and judges through their years in their service to the church.

The haughty bitch thought she could take my boys.  She really did.  She
actually thought she could take my boys – my flesh and blood away from
me!  I simply stood up and calmly told her I had changed my mind.  She
thought I was caving and she had won the battle and would take over my
home, my life, and my boys.  She sat up in her chair with a satisfied,
haughty sneer on her face.  I smiled the widest smile I had and told her I
had changed my mind about what time they were to vacate my home and my
property.  I told her if she and her worthless asshole of a husband were
not off my fucking property by three o'clock I would have them arrested for
trespassing and they would find any clothes or belongings they left here on
the fucking street.  I also shared with her highlights from my conversation
with Joe the previous evening and advised her that her own son would
provide affidavits or even testimony in any custody action she might
initiate.  The wind went completely out of her sails when she realized her
precious son, over whom she had exercised complete and devastating control
for years, had turned on her.  She knew she was beaten. Her pride would not
allow her to experience the public shame of being betrayed by her own son.
She looked as if she had aged fifty years in the last fifteen minutes.
Without a word to her husband or me, she headed upstairs, loudly slamming
the door to the bedroom.  Pastor Charles just continued to sit there,
looking at the floor.

I smiled at the feckless bastard and said, "Pastor Charlie, I think you
better get to steppin'."

I walked back to the guest house, opened a bottle of champagne, added a bit
of orange juice and decided to celebrate new beginnings.