Jack Scribe

Warning:  The following story may contain graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such material, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. This multipart story is primarily about romance and relationships between men. Any reference to actual persons, living or dead, is only to enhance the fictional nature of the story and does not suggest a particular sexual orientation.    

Special acknowledgement to Brad from Denver for providing diligent proofing and editing of the story. A special thanks to Ben in Florida for providing medical expertise to the plotline.

If you have any comments or suggestions for the author, feel free to write me at jack.scribe@gmail.com. I love feedback and communication with readers. Support Nifty!


From Part 22,


"I don't hate him. But I don't respect him. I plan on putting both him and what he did into my past and get on with life." Bryan looked at us intently and added, "Dr. Bragman and another doc have been helping me with this." I picked up on Bryan's use of the noun 'him' and never 'dad' or 'father'.

"Sounds like you're getting good advice. The big question is where do you go from here?" I asked. "Dr. Bragman says that you're ready to be released in a few days. From what I understand you don't have any relatives."

"Yeah," he said in a small, tentative voice, "that's the rub. The guy who was leaving as you came in is my best friend. But he said I couldn't stay with him."

"If this isn't too personal, could I ask if this was the guy your dad caught you with?" Doug said. Bryan slowly nodded and started leaking tears, in spite of his struggle not to cry.

"Hey, buddy. That's okay. Let it out," I said, leaning in. Bryan automatically reached for me, hugged hard and buried his wet face into my chest.

"There's a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo that I'm going to go through," he said after the last of the tears and sniffles subsided. "I understand that I'll be assigned to a foster home. What a bummer. I mean, who wants a gay, teenage guy?"

I looked at this lost young man, whose only misstep had been to physically love another young man, and felt my stomach tighten. I turned to Doug and our eyes immediately locked into one-on-one focus. Telepathically, we communicated while reaching into each other's souls. He moved closer and nodded with a small smile.

"I know people who might be interested," I answered. Our eyes immediately locked into one-on-one focus.

"Yeah?" Bryan asked, skeptically, as he started a rapid blinking.

"Yeah. You're looking at them," I said. "If you want, we would really like to talk with you about maybe coming to a new home...ours." Doug walked around to the other side of the bed, sat down and quietly placed his hand on Bryan's shoulder.

Part 23,


"Whoa, are you pulling my leg?" I asked. "I mean, we barely know each other." I was having a difficult time processing what Brent had just proposed. "I mean, I know I'm kinda cute, and all." I called up my biggest grin so that they would know I wasn't opposed to the idea. It also gave me time to digest what had just been suggested.

"Buddy, you are kinda cute. But what we have in mind is to consider inviting you to be part of a family. The family would be you, Brent and myself," said Doug.

'Jeez,' I considered, 'they seem like they're serious.' I started feeling comfortable with both men. 'I mean, wow, not only are they really easy on the eyes, they seem like they're really smart, nice guys.' Taking a deep breath, I said, "Do you guys live near my school? I go to University High, just west of UCLA."

"Actually, we live on Wilshire in a condo over by Beverly Glen. It's prolly in the same school district. And I attend UCLA, full-time. The acting deal is just something that pays the bills," Brent said. "My life partner, the tall, dark and handsome guy sitting on the other side of you, is a UCLA graduate. If you were to become part of our family, we'd make a commitment to college for you. We're pretty serious about education."

"I'm serious, too. My grades are good and I want to go to UCLA on a scholarship," I said. "I'm gonna be a lawyer." Brent beamed broadly at this statement.

"Holy smoke, Batman. A baby shark in the making," Doug said, laughing. I must have looked a little puzzled. He continued, "Brent is in pre-law. You know the joke about lawyers and sharks?"

"Umm, not really," I answered. 'What the heck is Doug talking about?' I wondered.

"Basically, it's a riddle. A lawyer fell overboard from a boat, out in the ocean, into shark-infested waters. He wasn't attacked by the sharks and was rescued. The question is; why didn't the sharks attack the lawyer? And the answer is..." Doug said as he pointed to Brent.

"Professional courtesy. Tah, tah tah," Brent said with a standing full bow. I finally got it and laughed.

"I guess if I was to live with you guys, we'd have two sharks in the family." We all laughed and I felt upbeat and safe for the first time in days.

"Two sharks and a movie director," Brent added. "One thing ya gotta understand is that whatever Doug and I do in film and television is just the way we make a living. As far as my success as an actor, I don't pay attention to it. I fart and belch like everyone else." We all laughed at Brent's put-down of himself. "For several reasons, Doug and I try not to call attention to ourselves, as a couple."

For the next half-hour, Brent and Doug gave me sketchy details about their backgrounds, careers and thoughts for the future. It was pretty obvious that they cared for each other, deeply. I was secretly thrilled at the possibility of being part of Doug's immediate family: instant grandparents, uncles and aunts. And Brent...triple-wow. I forgot about his TV and movie image almost immediately. His wit, intelligence and self-confidence just magnified the natural love I felt radiating from him.

Brent said that he could seek out legal advice immediately concerning one or both of them becoming legal guardians. I gave them the rundown about my pretty dull, semi-conventional, drug-free life. A life that centered on studies, the swim team, debate society and youth church activities at the Westwood Methodist Church. I admitted that I used the UCLA library quite often in the evening as an alternative to being alone in an empty apartment.

"Seems like you're anything but dull," Doug said. "And the church isn't too far from home." I felt a surge of energy travel around my tummy when he said 'home'. "I'm amazed, Bryan, that you weren't out running the streets at night getting into God knows what trouble."

"I have a few good friends, like Jimmy, whose parents are a good influence on me. My buddies are all being prepped for college, and, um, I just guess I'm lucky to be one of the good guys," I answered. 'Funny,' I thought. 'The idea of not achieving in school and extracurricular activities was never part of the equation.'

"So that's about it, kiddo," Brent said. "If you want, I'll see about a court order allowing us temporary custody until the details about the future can be worked out."

"I look at you as a younger brother who needs a home, some guidance and direction, and love," Doug added. "Brent and I are only 10 to 12 years older, but we've got lots of experience and knowledge to share. But we're also going to be parents when needed. The question is: do you want us to be a major part of your life...a long time?" Doug looked at me in a serious, warm manner while Brent sat down again on the edge of the bed. These two men flanked me as I arrived at one of the most serious moments in my young life.

"We know this is all rather sudden, son," Brent added, "but time is of the essence. Everything Doug said, I ditto."

"I guess this is a no-brainer," I answered with a smile. "The idea of being part of a real home and family, surrounded by two adult guys I can go to, is a dream come true." Suppressing more tears, I continued, "I would love to become your son or younger brother, as part of your family. Brent, Doug...I promise not to disappoint you." When I saw the two grown-ups start to moisten around the eyes, I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. Tears of joy and relief.



An L.A. County Family Services counselor specially selected for dealing with gay minors, interviewed Doug and me Tuesday night at the condo. For added insurance, we asked Mom and Dad Di Marco to join us. Mom brought homemade biscotti to serve with coffee.

The counselor assured us that the interview was a formality. She was satisfied with our home, personal financial responsibility and the presence of a stable, multi-generational, family environment. I was happily surprised to learn that L.A. County encouraged needy gay youth, Bryan's age, to be placed with committed gay couples. Before leaving, she gave us a document that we could use to legally change Bryan's residence address, health insurance and contact names and numbers in case of emergency for the school. This was the first step that would, hopefully, allow Bryan to be part of us for a long time. Doug and I had temporary custody of a healthy, bright, curious teenager with raging hormones and an insatiable appetite.

Wednesday morning was official release day from Cedars-Sinai for Bryan. I didn't have a class that was important until afternoon and volunteered to be chauffeur. After parking in the sub-level VIP entrance of the hospital, I went up to Bryan's room. It was barely 8:00 a.m. and Bryan was dressed in khaki cargo pants, a Lakers sweatshirt and sneakers, sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for me. I concluded that Dr. Howie and Sean probably furnished the clothes.

"Hey, Dad," Bryan said. He stood up with a grin and I winked at his reference.

"Son, ready to get 'outta Dodge'?" I opened my arms and this strapping young man stepped in for a hug. As we embraced, I realized that this was the first time that we were together without him being in bed or in a wheelchair. I judged him to be around 5' 10" and a solid, lithe, muscular 160 lbs.

"Absolutely. And ready to get on with my life." He squeezed me for emphasis before we released.

"Then, let's do it. I'll sign the release papers and let an orderly get you down to the car with a wheelchair. You okay walking after we leave?" I asked.

"Just need to take it slow. No heavy lifting and a special diet for a while, ya know?" Bryan said. "My, um, 'stool' needs to be pretty loose for the next couple of weeks so I can properly heal. Guess I'm going to miss out on most of the competitive swimming season."

"Dr. Howie said that you can swim but ya can't push yourself for a while. If you can't get a slot on the team this year, maybe we can enroll you in a swim club over the summer so that you can train with some good professional coaches," Brent suggested.

"Brent, that would be super." Bryan smiled as he eased back down into the wheelchair. "I really want to compete in 'freestyle' and 'relay' in my junior year."

"We'll see what your two dads can do about that. The doc said that you can start a light weigh lifting program in a week or so," I said, naturally placing my hand on his shoulder, as fathers do, while he rolled down the corridor. "First thing is to go over to your old apartment and get all your personal effects."

When we arrived at the reception desk, Sean, the public affairs guy, was there to meet us, along with Dr. Howie and a smiling Jim Weiss in a wheelchair. Jim's new leg cast was less bulky and covered only the lower-area of the leg.

"Bryan, I'm really happy for you. Looks like everything is turning out okay," Howie said.

"Thanks to you, Dr. Howie, I have a real home to go to. But, I'll miss you," Bryan answered.

"You're going to see the Doc and Sean real soon. They're coming over to dinner in a couple of weeks," I said. "Mom Di Marco is going to cook a special meal."

"Hey, Dad. How does it feel to have a bouncing, new son?" Jim asked. Bryan returned Jim's broad grin.

"A 'dad' that is very happy. But I don't think I'll be burping this guy," I replied with a laugh.

"And the bouncing is out, for a while." Bryan reached over and placed his hand on mine.

"Jim, you and your buddy are included on that Italian dinner. We're anxious for Bryan to meet all our friends." I winked at Jim silently.

"Great. I'm getting out of this place tomorrow and back to school part-time. Gotta a handicap card and I've been studying like crazy."

"You're a survivor. I love ya for that. We'll see each other soon," I said.

The rest of the formal release was over in moments. We said goodbye to all and an orderly rolled Bryan away to the elevator and, upon arrival at the sub-level, to the curb. Bryan got out of the chair, thanked the orderly and walked with me to the SUV. Without difficulty, Bryan was able to swing into the passenger seat. We smiled at each other as I started the engine and drove up to the overcast day and the morning L.A. traffic.

As we pulled up to the two-story apartment complex that had been Bryan's home for years, my young ward became suddenly withdrawn. The court had released the door keys for my visit to vacate Bryan's personal effects. "Hey, buddy, if you don't want to go inside, I'll understand. But maybe being in the apartment, one last time, will help drive away any demons?" I took his hand, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll be okay. Just give me a moment," he said, taking a deep breath. He squeezed my hand and returned my kiss. I smiled as his lips tenderly touched my cheek.

I retrieved some collapsible boxes and followed Bryan into the apartment building and his now former residence. There was mustiness in the air as we entered the apartment. He walked directly to his bedroom. I looked around and studied a neat but eclectic collection of used furniture and an old TV in the living room/dining area. In his bedroom was a twin bed, a side stand with a lamp and clock, a desk PC with an old 15" screen and various posters of the hit movie, 'Titanic'. Bryan was clearly a fan of Leo DiCaprio.

"This won't take long, Brent. I guess my new room has furniture?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Well, a little tent and sleeping bag. But you'll get used to camping out," I said as I playfully punched his arm. "Seriously, let's concentrate on your books, clothes and any personal stuff at the desk. How good are you on computers?"

"I aced all the computer courses at school. I don't have internet, though."

"Do you have much stuff on your computer hard drive?"

"Nothing I couldn't save on a floppy," Bryan said, looking at me with anticipation.

"Well, crank up your computer and start saving. There's a PC in your new room at home." He beamed and hugged me. "I'll start taking your clothes from the closet to the car while you work on your computer." Doug and I had shopped Monday night for a desk, chair and new computer. Everything had been delivered and set up yesterday in the now-former guest room.

"Will I get internet access?" he asked with big, curious puppy-dog eyes.

"That's something we'll talk about with Doug. You're 15 and bright enough to know there's some kinky stuff and strange people out there on the 'net. We'll need to set some parameters."

"I can live with that, Dad," Bryan replied as he walked over to his desk. His reference to me as 'dad' was not part of our joke, earlier. I felt my heart beat faster with happiness.

For the next 20 minutes I was pack-mule, transferring his meager wardrobe, books and boxes to the SUV. I figured that we needed to schedule an emergency shopping trip to Macy's and Ross this weekend. The collection of Speedos in his gym bag indicated Bryan's interest in competitive swimming. When we were finished, he shut down the computer and screen and looked one last time at his old room. The posters, at his request, stayed on the walls. 'Hmm,' I thought. 'I know exactly what to get for Bryan's new room.'

He didn't look back as we pulled away from the apartment building. Most of our conversation centered on his school. I had made an appointment with the admin office at University High for 4:00 p.m. to change Bryan's address and status. I also thought that we could stop by to visit his swimming coach and teammates.

"Shee...it," Bryan exclaimed as we drove under the porte-cochere of the condo tower. Tony, the day doorman, opened the passenger door.

"Good morning, Mr. Williams. Is this the young man, Bryan Martinez, who will be living here?" Bryan looked at me and I nodded for him to get out. I turned off the engine, got out and walked over to the back of the SUV.

"He is part of our family and this is his home," I answered. Tony wheeled over a large luggage cart, followed by a shy Bryan. I opened the cargo door and proceeded to load the cart with the packed boxes. Bryan hung his clothes on hangers on the brass rack.

"Looks like you'll make it in one trip," Tony said. "Go on up and I'll pull the Explorer forward."

"Thanks, Tony. I'll be down just as soon as we unload his stuff." Bryan followed as I rolled the heavy cart through the lobby to the rear service elevator.

"Wow, Brent. This is pretty fancy. It's like a hotel you see in movies." The elevator door opened and we entered.

"It's your home, now. The reason we moved here was because of security. As much as I don't like to admit it, the public has come to recognize me on the street. Most are really super and respect my privacy. But there's that one percent 'whacko' crowd out there that can make life miserable." We arrived at the 10th floor and exited.

"I can understand that. I guess I'll need to be cautious, too?"

I was impressed at his intuitiveness and nodded at his question as we arrived at the front door of the condo. "We'll talk about that, plus other things, tonight when Doug gets home. Here's your key to the door. Go ahead and open it so we can get you unpacked and settled." Bryan's chest swelled with pride as he took the key, inserted it into the lock and slowly opened the door.

"Jeez," was all he said as he walked in and held the door open so I could navigate the cart into the entryway. "So where is my tent and sleeping bag," he asked with a giggle.

"Walk down the hall and turn left at the last door," I said. "I'll follow you with your stuff." I saw him disappear into his new room when I was only halfway there.

"Man, Dad...Brent," he said, loudly with his back to me. "Oh, fuck, I'm going to lose it." He turned and walked into the now-familiar hug, in full cry-mode. "I'm so happy. Not because of the neat room, but because of you guys and a chance to have a real home." He pulled his face into my shoulder and heaved some solid sobs.

"Buddy, it's just going to get better. Doug and I love you and want nothing but the best for you."

"And I love you...both of you," he answered in a small voice. I held him tightly for a few moments before stepping back. "And I should apologize for using the "F" word."

"You're fuckin' right," I answered with a grin. We both had a good laugh. "Listen, you were excited and we're guys. Doug and I can toss out a few choice words on rare occasions. Let's just all make it the exception. 'K?"

"Yes, Dad." He said it again and I was getting used to the title. "I'll help unload the clothes on hangers."

"Okay, let's get organized. I'll place the boxes on the floor and any loose stuff on the bed. While I return the cart and park the car, you can start organizing your room." We followed the plan and I returned from the garage shortly.

The rest of the morning was spent with Bryan sorting out his clothes, organizing his chest of drawers and setting up his computer. Doug had ordered the PC pre-loaded with the Windows '95 software. Windows '98 was scheduled to come out later in the year and we would upgrade all the computers then. While he got the room pulled together, I managed a little study time.

Around 11:15 a.m., I went back into his room. I knocked at the open door and asked, "Looks like you're pretty well set up. Let me show you where the boxes go downstairs. I'll give you a brief tour of the building and show you around the condo before we have lunch." The 'L' word as it applied to food brought a smile to his face.

We went into the kitchen for food. He wolfed down fruit and soup, while I had a sandwich, in the kitchen. I gave him a booklet of rules and regulations pertaining to the condo association to read and walked through the rough construction layout of the master suite and entertainment center at the opposite side of the current bedrooms. "The addition should be ready next month. Until then, we're going to be living wall-to-wall," I said.

"Um, I guess that you're concerned that my young ears might hear stuff late at night?" he said with a knowing grin.

"What are you, Bryan, a thirty-year old guy in the body of a teenager?" I returned his grin and he shrugged.

"A teenager who's cool with whatever you guys do. I just don't want to interrupt your lives," he said in serious tone.

"Let's talk about this now. Doug and I love each other very much. I know you can appreciate that we're not that much older than you and that our sexual libido is very active. I don't think any details are necessary other than to say that we physically love each other, frequently, in a variety of ways."

"Hey, I'll just put on some low music when I go to bed. But can I ask you a big favor?"

"Like?" I was curious about his thought process in this area.

"I'm, ah, not very experienced about what two guys can do to...well, you know," he stammered.

"Bryan, don't ever be embarrassed to ask either Doug or myself about questions you have concerning sex. In fact, before I return from class later today I'll stop by the bookstore and buy a copy of 'The Joy of Gay Sex.' That will be a good primer to get your curious, young mind pumpin'."

"With a book like that, my mind is not the only thing that's going to get pumpin', he replied with a sly smile.

"The only comment I have is that behind a closed door, exploring your body with your hand is very normal. Just clean up after you're finished," I said, matching his smile.

"Yeeees, Dad, that's one thing I got under control."

"Okay, 'nuf said. I've got a class at 1:00 p.m., so why don't you veg out? Watch a little TV, read or take a nap? I'll be back around 3:30 p.m. so we can go to your school." We both stood and he took my lead to take the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Brent, I'm going to make Doug and you very proud of me. I'll be a good son and younger brother." He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips. I returned his affection as a father would.

"I know you will. I love ya, buddy. See ya later." I patted him on the shoulder and left.


"So I'm allowed to moan?" Doug asked with a chuckle as he massaged my cock and balls. It was 11:00 p.m. and all the tasks for the day had been accomplished. After our new family dinner, Bryan went to his room to study his school assignments we had picked up. His door was shut when we decided to retire.

"This guy is really tuned into reality but I will feel more comfortable when we move into the new master bedroom. We had a little talk today and he understands that you and I express our love physically and sometimes with a little noise." It took only moments for us both to be hard as a rock and our dicks dribbling pre-cum. "So, tonight, I want you to fuck me with as much passion, bad boy, as you can muster, so we can see if the audio levels can be kept down." I moved over to my back and allowed Doug to kneel in front of me, between my legs.

"You said a mouthful. Now I'm going to take a mouth full of your cock," Doug said as he scooted down. As his lips touched my dickhead, I felt his hands starting the familiar massage of my perineum and puckered hole. After lapping up the moisture from my urethra opening, his tongue trailed down the length of my hard male muscle and darted around my balls. His fingers began a gentle penetration of my asshole, playing with the wrinkles.

"Oh, man," I lowly murmured as his exploring digits went deeper into my backdoor. "Ah, shit...ya got it." Doug had found my prostate and purposely grazed it a couple of times. "I want your tongue, babe...now." I raised my legs until my knees were touching my shoulders.

"Your wish, sir," he whispered, before moving his face into my butt hole. Doug was being a good sport because rimming was not his favorite form of gay lovemaking. He gallantly started lapping and darting in and out and I shivered with delight.

"Give me the real thing...I want you now." I wiggled my butt for emphasis and Doug gingerly reached for the Wet. After coating our hard dicks with lube, he poured a shot of Wet on his well-rehearsed fingers. They immediately found their way back to my chute as I lowered my legs to his waist. After he relaxed my sphincter, I grabbed his dick and said, "Let me guide you in, lover."

"You're very aggressive tonight," Doug said as he slowly entered me. "I like that 'cause I'm taking over, right now." He leaned down and kissed me as his cock bottomed out inside me.

"Take me, Doug. I love you."

"Love you, forever," he said, in a low gravelly tone. After several minutes of long-dicking with well-practiced precision, he switched tactics by burying his cock deep up my ass and slowly pumping it back and forth. I grabbed onto his ass-cheeks and pulled his crotch as close to mine as possible, sinking his root to the inner-depths of my hole. I contracted my ass muscles by pulsing my cock and I could tell he was feeling it.

I kept yelling, "Do that again. Oh my god. Do that that again." Doug continued with the short strokes as he sped up his delivery. "Oh fuck...I'm...shit...urghh," I uttered as Doug's dick started driving home for delivery. His breathing was heavy as his engorged dick slammed into me for a glorious finale. I grabbed my dick and started stoking.

"Kee...rist, oh baby," Doug shouted as he gushed into me.

"Yeah...fill me, ya fucker. I'm cumming, too."  He lunged in as we shot our loads. We both shuddered together before Doug stopped, lapped up some of my residue and moved up for a serious, passionate, cum-laden kiss. I eagerly welcomed his lips and tongue.

'Hmm,' I considered with a smile, 'So much for keeping things quiet. Bryan may have a few questions tomorrow.'


Jack Scribe's Official Story Page: http://jackscribe.gayauthors.org/index.html