By John Yager
This is the seventy-second chapter of an ongoing series. I've appreciated all the comments, questions and encouragement I've received from readers and hope to continue hearing from you.
I try to answer all messages promptly. If I'm slow at times it is only because of the pressures of work.
Andrew continues to give much needed proofing and editorial help, for which I am sincerely grateful. I could not post chapters as quickly as I've been doing without his invaluable assistance.
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"I'm tired but I'll be fine after a good night's sleep," I said.
"I gather dad just about did you in last night in London."
"Well, I guess it did go further than I'd expected."
"So I hear," he said. "Dad tends to overdo it sometimes."
"It was my doing, too," I said, not knowing exactly what William knew.
"You must think all of the Amsteds are a pretty bizarre bunch."
"No, not bizarre," I replied, "just more experienced."
"I think a lack of experience can be very appealing," he said. His voice was low and sounded completely sincere.
"Innocence abroad?" I smiled.
"Perhaps," he said, then added, "Mark Twain, right?
We stood for another awkward moment, neither of us speaking, then William said, his voice little more than a whisper, "would you mind if I came in?"
"No, not at all."
We went into the bedroom and sat in the two wingback chairs by the fireplace. It was a warm night and the grate was empty but it was still cozy.
"So how are you liking LA?" William asked.
"I never know how to answer that question," I said, thinking of all the telephone conversations I'd had with family and friends in Mississippi. It was inevitably asked and I was always at a loss. "I like it a lot but there is a sense of artificiality about it," I finally said. It had become my usual answer.
"Yes, I always feel that, too."
"So you've been there."
"Several times, always with my father when he's been on business trips." Then after a pause he asked, "are you enjoying being a Nathan Fellow?"
"So far it's been great but I'll be starting classes soon after we get back to the States and I have a feeling life is going to get a lot harder."
"I'd love to study film at USC," William volunteered.
"You should apply for a Nathan."
"Maybe, but I think dad would consider it inappropriate. If I can get into the master's degree program at USC I'll probably just go on my own."
"Why would your father think applying for a Nathan would be inappropriate?"
"Oh, it could look like favoritism. He and Dex Cohen are old friends."
"The fellowships seem to open a lot of doors but I guess you'd have that sort of access anyway."
"Maybe," he said, looking at me in an especially serious way. "Look, Rob, you're worn out. I should go and let you get to bed."
"No, really," I said immediately, "I enjoy talking."
"Could I ask . . . ?"
"Well, knowing dad, I was just wondering if he was rough with you last night."
"No, I don't think so, not really."
"Are you bruised?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I'm just a little sore."
"Would you get undressed and let me take a look? I've dealt with this sort of thing before and I know how to help."
"I suppose," I said, feeling a little uncomfortable at the thought of getting naked in front of him.
"Don't be embarrassed," he said, reading my mind. "Just consider me a professional nurse."
I took off all my clothes except for my jockey shorts as William stood silently scrutinizing my body.
"Underwear, too, Rob," he said. "I need to see your buttocks."
When I was naked he circled me, running his hand down my back, gently stroking my rear.
"I'll be right back."
Not knowing what he intended, I sat naked on the side of the big bed and within a minute or two he was back. He carried a couple of big white towels, a pair of bottles and a few other supplies.
With the efficiency of a trained medic he spread one of the towels in the center of the big bed and told me to stretch out on it.
"Lie on your stomach," he said, as he turned off all the lights but for one small lamp on the bedside chest.
He then began to get undressed.
"I don't want to get oil all over these clothes," he said, sensing my surprise. He stripped to a only a pair of light gray bikini style briefs and then moved onto the bed to kneel beside me.
For over half an hour he gently massaged my back, starting at my shoulders and working his way down over my back. When he reached my buttocks he skipped over them to my legs, which he worked from hips to toes.
The oil he used smelled of pine and spread a warm glow through my tight muscles. When he'd finished my legs, he worked first one arm and then the other.
"Can I work on your rear?" he finally whispered. I was almost asleep.
"Yeah, I guess," I said.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him pour more oil into his left palm and then rub his hands together before gently massaging my buttocks. I relaxed, feeling increasingly comfortable and completely safe with him.
He gently spread the crack of my buttocks and ran the tips of his thumbs over my most private parts.
"Damn," I heard him whisper.
"Dad fisted you, didn't he?"
"Was it your first time?"
"Damn," he said again.
I rolled over a little and looked back over my shoulder at him. "You didn't know."
"No," William said. "I heard dad and Roger talking before you came down for dinner but I thought he'd just spanked you or something. I expected to find your rear red as hell, but not the ring of your ass so swollen it looks like a bagel."
"Is it really that bad?"
"No, I'm exaggerating, but it is puffy."
"I guess there's nothing to do but let it rest. Roger told me to take long hot baths and soak it a lot."
"Yeah, that helps but you really ought to let me pack it."
"What does that mean?" I asked, feeling suddenly apprehensive.
"Packing oil-soaked gauze into your ass and leaving it like that until morning."
"Gees, William," I groaned. "That really sounds gross."
"Not really, and it does help."
"Are you speaking from personal experience?"
Another question formed in my mind but I didn't ask it.
"Well, okay," I said, "if you're really willing, go ahead."
"Good," he said, suddenly matter of fact and business-like. "Spread your legs and try to relax."
I did as he said and a moment later felt one oil-slick finger slide into my ass.
"I thought you were going to use gauze," I said.
"I am, once I get you open."
I felt his finger press in further and twist around, lubing me up. Soon enough he seemed to have accomplished what he'd intended and his finger withdrew, only to begin again, this time forcing oily gauze into me.
The process went on for a while and I began to experience a full, almost bloated sensation. If he'd been using an actual liniment I'm sure it would have burned like hell, but the pine-fragranced oil only caused a gentle glow which seemed to send waves of warmth through my entire body.
"There," William said at last. "I left a couple of inches of the gauze protruding so you can slowly pull it all out in the morning."
"What if . . ." I began to say, then feeling embarrassed again. "You know."
"Leave it in until morning if you can, but if you need to defecate before then, just pull it out."
"Okay," I said, feeling like a helpless child.
He moved over to set on the side of the bed and reached back to cover me up with the light sheet.
"Now, get some sleep," he whispered. "I'll look in on you in the morning."
"No, William," I whispered. "Stay. Sleep here by me."
"I think you'll sleep better alone."
"No I won't. I really want you to stay."
"All right then," he said, moving his clothes from the end of the bed where he'd laid them to a chair opposite the one on which mine were spread.
He turned off the one remaining lamp but in the soft glow from the big bay window, I saw him pull off his bikini briefs before stretching out beside me.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked as he pulled the sheet back up.
"I don't usually sleep too well on my stomach."
"Roll onto your side," he said, pulling
me over against his own warm body. His arm came around me, grasping my
chest. "There," he whispered as I drifted off to sleep.
To be continued.