This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu

Chapter 10 (Fri., Dec. 9, 1966)

As almost every morning, I was up before everyone else. I was at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee, trying to study the help-wanted ads in yesterday's paper to see if I could make some money over Christmas. But really, I was thinking about our sex romp, earlier this morning. This was certainly going to change a lot. Specifically, it was going to change our way of relating to Bat. Dwelling on this for only seconds, the stud, himself, walked in wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe.

I glanced up from the paper and gave my hero my winning smile. "Were you finally able to sleep alright?"

"Yeah, thanks to you." He looked down at what I was reading, gave me a firm hug and kissed the side of my head. He went to get a cup of coffee from the percolator and sat down across from me. "We have to talk."

Needless to say, my stomach tightened, my bowels threatened to empty on the spot. He was either going to kick me out or tell me that we can never have sex again or both. My throat went dry. "Uh, okay, what about?"

The look he was giving me, told me that he was reading my face, if not my mind. "Well, to get you to settle down, it's about a business deal. What were you expecting?"

"Oh, I don't know." I took a big swig of coffee and almost choked. "Thought maybe you'd tell me to leave. Or tell me to stay away from you."

"Why would I do that?" He looked hurt; his forehead furrowed.

"Don't know." I looked at Bat, trying not to bawl. "For the same reasons my parents did."

"What?" He shot off his stool and rushed around the breakfast bar and literally grabbed me off my seat. "Your parents kicked you out?"

"Yeah, when I got my draft notice and stayed out--"

"--you got your draft notice, and they threw you out?" He hugged me with the amount of force, which would normally suffocate someone. I twitched, and he let up. "Okay, we're gonna make this alright." This wasn't a casual lover talking; it was a concerned parent. This was the dad, I'd always wanted. And when I realized that I was getting the best of both worlds, I got rock hard. His usually gruff voice became as smooth as silk, almost a whisper. "When and where do you have to report?"

"At seven in the morning on January 10th at the Army Building on Whitehall over in Manhattan." I had to shiver at the thought.

He gave me another forceful hug and went back to the other side of the bar. "That gives us a month. Good." His head was nodding approval, deep in thought. "Yeah, that'll do." He gave me his sexy, lopsided grin.

"Do for what?" I seriously didn't know what he was talking about, but my stomach unclenched and I could breathe normally. I relaxed and took another sip of my now tepid coffee.

"First of all, I want you to talk to my attorney, Marv. We'll do that on Monday, at the latest." His right index finger tapped on the counter. "He can tell you how to get the best deal out of the Green Latrine, as he calls it." Bat chuckled, and so did I without having even the vaguest of ideas of what he meant. "And then, I have my own offer to make."

"Which involves…?" I'm breathless again, but this time in a good way.

"Working for me." His gaze told me that he was serious. "I need you, Ben."

"What could I possibly do, that Lon can't?" I was still light headed from his telling me that he needed me. Nobody had ever said that to me. "He's the one majoring in economics at NYU."

"You can read, write and speak Cantonese fluently." Bat's business demeanor took on a tinge of unaccustomed softness. "This is a huge deal. And it's, of course, hush-hush. Can I count on you?" His eyes were almost pleading, as if I could turn him down.

"You know you can." I wanted so much to reach across and take his hand. But he took mine, instead.

"One of the big families in town, is looking to buy a huge chunk of property. And since the Scandinavians have abandoned the area around 8th Avenue over by the docks in what they're now calling Sunset Park. I've been buying up the shops and houses."

"How did you know that the number eight means prosperity?" I chuckled at his business savvy.

"Look at my eyes, Dipshit!" We each built on the other's laughter. I finally quieted down enough to concede his point. "Now, to what you get."

"You're going to pay me?" I'd sort of guessed that he was asking a favor, which I would have gladly done for him.

"Oh, Baby Boy, you have no idea of what you're worth." His voice was gentler than I'd ever heard. "I'm offering you one-percent commission on the asking price. You're my main man, right now."

"You don't have to give me any money, Bat." I was shaking my head. "Just let me stay awhile." This was when he took my face in both hands.

"Look at me!" he shouted, which certainly got my attention. "Since your parents are being so stupid, this is your home. And if any of my other boys was gonna do this for me, I would pay him. Understood?"

I could only nod. Speech was impossible. Fortunately, Bat left me to make more coffee. It must have been a good five minutes before he sat down again. My voice was back. "What do I have to do?" And if he had told me to go out and shoot someone, I would have done it. Then my thoughts drifted to my induction. That's what the Army was going to do, anyway: turn me into a paid killer. So, I could have easily gotten a head start on them.

"This big-wig family will only deal in Cantonese. They'll have a contract that I need translated, fast. We'll make changes to their contract by hand in Cantonese on their copy and in English on ours."

"I can do that." I sounded like a school boy, and Bat's eyebrows shot up and he laughed.

"Yeah, I pretty much thought that you could." He snorted again. "And you'll do the negotiations at the site. I'll go along as your body guard. So, you won't have to introduce me. But, I'll teach you some Mongolian, so I can tell you things without them able to understand."

"Will there be guns involved?" I could feel my cock rising again.

"I'll have mine with me." He sneered, probably wondering what this was all about. "I have a permit to conceal, you don't." Then he leaned over the counter and noticed my cock plumping inside my jeans. "Sometimes, I think that you're more like me, than my own boys."

"How so." I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I wanted an answer.

"The first mention of a gun, and you get a hard-on. And you still haven't asked how much you're gonna get." I see the tip of his massive dick starting to push out of his robe. "I'll give you two hundred thousand up front and the balance of the one percent as soon as the deal is final."

I choked on my coffee, sputtered and looked totally embarrassed and stunned at the amount. I was wiping coffee off my face as he came around to my side of the bar.

"How much were you expecting?" He had me in a hug from behind, starting to undo my jeans.

"Dunno, a couple hundred, maybe." My breathing was starting to deepen. I knew where Mrs. Khan kept her Crisco, so I reached behind Bat and got it out of the pantry.

He gave me a quizzical look before saying: "You have a lot to learn."

With a handful of Crisco on my right, I placed his chest onto the Formica bar and hitched up his robe from behind with my left. "So do you." His ass was willing to accept the grease and one finger. I whispered instructions and inserted the second, spreading more of the cooking fat inside his narrow passage. And as soon as he'd relaxed his muscular ass, in went the third to spread him a tiny bit more.

With his head now resting on the Formica top between his outstretched arms, he began to grunt with pleasure, and I knew that the time had come. With the rest of the Crisco in my palm, I spread it over my aching cock and inserted it tenderly.

He didn't gasp, since my dick had about the same circumference as did my three largest fingers above the second knuckle. I used my coffee-covered napkin from the counter to wipe off the excess grease and carefully progressed to the fullest extent. "You okay, Bat?"

He didn't verbalize his answer, as he raised his head to look toward me. The glazed-over look in his eyes told me that he was feeling no pain, as my dick massaged his insides.

After a few minutes, his breathing became jagged and he started to ram his ass against my belly and balls. His motions were frantic and I knew that he too was close to the final lap. His guttural groans preceded his clamping his ass muscles around my cock by about three seconds.

We were both in mid-squirt when the back door opened. Too late to cover things up. And much too late to stop the sound effects. Lon's mother and my mother stood wide mouthed in the doorway to the drive. A high, shrill, female voice asked the most asked question: "What do you think you're doing?"

Bat didn't miss a beat, ramming his ass cheeks against my groin. He didn't stop until his last squirt had either been absorbed by his robe or had fallen to the floor. He even waited a bit for us to come off our high. "If you're too stupid to figure it out for yourself: we were fucking."

Mrs. Khan's wailing, shrill voice went up a whole octave. "In my kitchen? That's disgusting!"

"It is not your kitchen anymore." Bat didn't bother to straighten up. He was still leaning on the counter with the tail end of the bathrobe around his waist. My cock flopped out. "It stopped being your kitchen, when you deserted the boys and me for the umpteenth time." His voice was even tempered. "And I see Marv coming up the steps. He'll have something for you, Dear." This time, he did stand up, letting the back of his bathrobe fall over his ass. "And a good morning to you. Bring the papers?"

"Sure did." Marvin handed Mrs. Khan two folded documents stapled to a light blue backing, one at a time. "Here we have the divorce petition on the grounds of constructive abandonment for more than five years." He handed her the one. "And here we have the restraining order, preventing you from coming within a mile of this house and/or its inhabitants. Good day, Mrs. Khan."

"She'll need her things." Bat turned to me. "Would you please go with Marv and the ladies to the back bedroom on the left across from Lon's?" He looked at his lawyer for confirmation. "But don't carry anything for her. I just want you to witness that we do have separate bedrooms. You'll be a corroborative witness for us." Marvin nodded.

As Marvin and Mrs. Khan started to go through to the living room, and I was stuffing my dick back into my jeans, my mother stopped in front of me. "Why are you doing this?"

Bat shushed her. "Please, do not try to influence my witness, Bernice."

If looks could have killed... I'd never seen her quite this angry. And I'd never felt quite this indifferent toward her, either.