Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2000 21:19:16 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: The Castaway Hotel-2  chapter 20

Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts.  
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.

Don't read this story if:
**You're not 18 or over,     
**If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live,
**Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story.  Placing this story on a
website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's
permission is a violation of that copyright.  Legal action will be taken
against violators.

I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this
chapter.

If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at 
http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section.
  
E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive'
comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.
                                                 
		*    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

The Castaway Hotel -Book 2 - by BW  (Young-Friends)
Copyright 2000 by billwstories
Chapter 20 - Changes, apologies and additions.                   June 2000

Sally had called my grown children and told them about what had happened,
later in the evening on the day I had been shot.  She had assured them that
I was doing fine and, although the injuries were serious, there was no
threat to my life.  She talked them into waiting until the following
weekend to come and see me, and that's just what they did.  That Friday
evening they began to arrive and by Saturday morning they were all present
and accounted for, including my grandchildren.  The little ones were very
upset when they first saw me lying in the bed and it took a great deal of
discussion and answering their questions to get them to calm down.  After
that, the visit went fine.

That night, the boys doubled and tripled up on the sleeping arrangements to
make room for the others, and the youngest ones decided to hold a 'pajama
party', in underwear, on the family room floor.  It was Ricky's suggestion,
but it was quickly adopted by Cole and Graham.  Soon it also included
Sammy, Andrew, Jordan, and Nicky, before Trey and Dion asked if they could
join in too.  The others welcomed them to the party and they lugged down
sleeping bags and pillows and had an indoor campout.  They had a great time
on their own, though a parent or two had to wander in occasionally, to get
them back under control.

By Sunday afternoon the visit had concluded and my older children packed up
to return to their normal routines.  My grandsons didn't want to leave, but
we convinced them that it would only be a few more months before they would
come to join us for the summer.  That seemed to make them feel better and
they made their way through a sea of hugs and kisses as we all said
'good-bye'.  Now I had to allay my grown offspring's concerns once more,
before I sent them all on their way.

In another week, I had my artificial knee joint put in and I was now home
recuperating.  Sally and Steve had hired a home health aide to assist me
during the day, while the boys were at school.  She would fix my lunch,
keep the downstairs clean, do loads of laundry for me, run errands, and she
would do the grocery shopping for me after we made out the list together.
She was a godsend.

Sally had kept my van while I was laid up and she would drive to our house
every morning to pick-up the boys and take them to school.  Each afternoon
she would pick them up, bring them home, fix our dinner, and she would stay
and eat with us.  The boys convinced her that they could help me at night,
so she could go and sleep in her own bed.  I think this was more to allow
them to run around in their natural state than anything else.

Pat had swapped rooms with Dion just after I got back home.  He took the
smaller room with the single bed and gave Dion his room with the double bed
because Trey was in with him most of the time now.  I complimented Pat on
his generosity and he just smiled and said he still had a lot of making up
to do.  I understood what he was saying but told him that he had more than
taken care of that.  All he had to offer was 'we'll see'.

That first night in their new bed, Trey was lying beside Dion after they
went to bed.  Dion was a little restless, tossing and turning every few
seconds.  "What's the matter, Dion?" Trey asked.  "Can't you get
comfortable in the new bed?"

"No, it seems different and we're not as close together as we were in the
other room."

"That's why Pat switched with us.  In the other bed, we were almost lying
on top of each other all night long."

"But I kind of liked it that way.  Sure, it was a little crowded sometimes
but I always knew you were there.  I don't know, it just feels different."

"Would it make you feel better if we did something, you know, so you can
relax?"

"Yeah.  You want to play with my dick?"

"Sure, but do you want to try something new?  That way you can have new
memories for a new bed."

"Like what do you want to do?"

"Well, I could suck on your cock to make you cum."

"EEWW!  That sounds gross."

"It isn't really and it feels a lot better than when you use your hand."

"Doesn't it taste like pee?"

"No.  Actually it doesn't have much taste at all.  It's kind of like
licking your hand."  Dion thought about it for a minute and then licked the
back of his own hand to see what it tasted like.

"You mean that's all it tastes like?"

"Yeah, except for the cum and that's not bad either.  It a little salty but
it tastes kind of sweet too."

"You mean you've tasted the jizz, too?"

"Yeah, of course.  It's wild, feeling a guy shoot in your mouth and it's
even wilder when you shoot your load in somebody else's hot throat."

"Well, I guess we could do it.  You were right about my liking it when we
did it the other way.  You told me that what my gram told me wasn't true
and I believed you and I loved that.  Okay, I'll try it.  What should I
do?"

"You lie back and I'll do it for you first.  You just try to remember what
I do so you can do it back to me."

"Yeah, fine."

Dion laid back and Trey reached over and started to stroke his impressive
package.  It didn't take long for Dion's heart to start pumping a large
quantity of blood into his tool and it rose proudly from against his body.
Trey just admired it in the dim light of the moon and he was thankful that,
although it was quite long, it was also rather slender.  He might gag a
little but at least it wouldn't dislocate his jaw.  When it reached its
full length, Trey slid down next to Dion's waist to begin his work.

Trey began by teasing Dion a little, sticking his tongue out and making a
few quick swipes at various areas along his prick.  Dion moaned and
squirmed with nearly every touch.  Slowly, Trey began to lick the base of
Dion's pulsing mast and all around his scrotum.  Even though Dion had a
long schlong for his age, he had fairly small testicles.  That didn't seem
to hinder his production of semen, as Trey knew from earlier jack-off
sessions, but it did look a little strange hanging below that awesome piece
of meat.  Trey was able to take Dion's testicles into his mouth and suck on
them for a while.  Dion's body was thrashing about on the bed from this
attention.  When he had finished with Dion's scrotum, Trey started to lick
up the length of his dick.  Dion was now bouncing around like he was in an
earthquake zone but his moaning made him sound like a boy with a
tummy-ache.  Trey kept working his way up Dion's hard pole until he was
licking the mushroom head and flicking his tongue in his pulsing slit.
Dion was now reaching out for Trey's head, trying to force him to swallow
his monument.

Trey felt Dion's hands on his head and he knew that he had teased Dion long
enough and that it was time to give him pleasure.  He wrapped his lips
around Dion's dickhead and he began to slide his lips down the silky sides
of Dion's boyhood.  Dion let out a big groan and relaxed to enjoy the feel
of Trey's hot, moist oral lining wrapped around his throbbing cock.
Suddenly it got better, as Trey began sliding his mouth up and down and
sucking on each upward movement.  Dion's moaning had now become little
whimpers, almost as if he was begging Trey to give him relief.  Trey loved
the sounds Dion was making and knowing that he was causing Dion to
experience such pleasure.  This made him work even harder to help bring him
off.  He was bobbing up and down more quickly now, trying to give Dion the
climax that he desired.  Dion must have been close because he now he was
thrusting his hips up at Trey's mouth every time Trey started his downward
lunge.  The combination of these actions had now brought Dion to the edge
and he made one final thrust upward to release his load into Trey's throat.
The first two bursts went directly down Trey's gullet but Trey managed to
pull his head back slightly, so he could capture the following spurts in
his mouth.  He kept working on Dion's monster until it quit spitting its
tasty cream but he didn't release it until Dion's body collapsed back onto
the bed.

Trey crawled up the bed and hovered over Dion's head, watching him enjoy
his warm orgasmic afterglow.  When Dion finally opened his eyes, Trey was
in his line of sight.  Dion gave him a wonderful grin and Trey opened his
mouth to show Dion its contents.  "Is that my cum?" Dion asked in wonder.
Trey merely nodded his head up and down and moved his mouth toward Dion's.
Dion wasn't sure about this next part but he eventually gave in.  He
tentatively stuck his tongue out and put it into Trey's mouth, taking a
taste of his own juices.  He brought his tongue back into his mouth and
tried to absorb the flavor.

"You're right.  It's not that bad tasting and what you did to me was
outstanding.  That had to be the best one yet.  Thanks.  I'm ready to do it
for you now."

Trey quickly finished swallowing Dion's load and he switched places with
him.  Dion took no time at all to swing into position.  He played with
Trey's penis for a little while, pulling the skin back and forth,
uncovering and recovering his cock head.  Finally, he pulled the skin back
and he began to lick all around Trey's glans.  Trey's sensitive head nearly
exploded as Dion's hot tongue came into contact with it and it only got
better when Dion twirled his tongue all around the helmet and then up and
down the sides of his shaft.  After doing that for a few minutes, Dion
slipped his head down to Trey's ball bag and he began to suck on Trey's
large nuggets.  He could only get one into his mouth at a time, but he
sucked on each one individually and Trey enthusiastically moaned out his
chorus of approval.  Dion felt great that he could make Trey feel so good
and he eagerly worked his way up Trey's cock until he could take it into
his mouth.

Trey released a loud groan as Dion slid his warm lips down along the
velvety sides of his penis.  He began to frantically hump his hips upward,
in an attempt to fuck Dion's face, but Dion managed to maintain control of
the situation.  He rocked up and down on Trey's uncut sausage, letting his
lips form a seal around his rod, as he attempted to suction Trey's seed to
the surface.  He hectically nodded his head up and down on Trey's mast
until he felt Trey's body shudder and go rigid, just before he unleashed
his thick, rich spunk into Dion's waiting throat.  Dion sucked and
swallowed, not wishing to waste a drop, and he continued that way until
there was nothing left in the tube.  Dion let Trey's log drop out of his
mouth and he sat up, smiling at Trey until he came down from his climactic
high.

"Well, how did I do?" Dion asked eagerly.

"You did great," Trey panted back.  "That was terrific.  You did a great
job."

"Thanks.  The whole thing was great.  I'm glad you're so smart about all of
this stuff.  I love the way you teach me."

"Hey, I enjoy teaching you.  You're a pretty quick learner."  Dion only
smiled back at him.

"Well, I think you took care of my problem," Dion whispered to Trey.  "I
think I'll be able to sleep now.  Actually, I'm a little tired.  What do
you say we turn in?"

"Good idea.  Good night."

"Good night, Trey, and thanks.  You're pretty awesome, dude."  Both boys
lay on the bed and they reached out to touch each other.  Trey pulled Dion
over close to him, and they snuggled against each other's body until they
faded off into oblivion.

My days at home soon started to fall into a routine.  Steve came to have
lunch with me a couple times a week.  We would talk about different things
but he would keep me informed about Eddie's case.  He had scheduled a
meeting between us and the judge handling the case, so I could discuss my
ideas about a suitable punishment for Eddie.  When the time came, the three
of us agreed on his sentence.  Eddie would receive psychological counseling
from the Department of Mental Health and he would do ten hours of community
service each week for a year.  He would spend one hour a day after school
and two and one half hours on both Saturday and Sunday in the children's
ward of the hospital.  He was to read the children stories, play games with
them, and help to keep them entertained while they were getting better.

I attended court when Eddie was sentenced.  When the judge asked him if he
had anything to say, he walked over in front of me and told me how sorry he
was for what had happened and then he turned to the judge and told him the
same thing.  The judge emphasized the seriousness of his actions and told
him that he was getting a break on the sentencing.  The judge told Eddie
how we had talked this over and that I didn't want him sent to a detention
center.  I heard Eddie's parents breathe a sigh of relief as the judge told
him what his sentence was.  After it was over, Eddie came up to me and gave
me a hug and told me that he was very sorry, once more, and he thanked me
for not letting them send him to reform school.  I knew that he was truly
sorry and that he wouldn't do anything like this again.  His parents also
came over to thank me for convincing the judge not to send their boy away.
I told them that it wasn't that difficult a decision, as I always thought
that Eddie was basically a good kid.  They all thanked me again and then
they left the courthouse.

On the way back into the house, I picked up the mail.  I had been getting
many get well cards in the mail from friends, acquaintances, teachers,
students, and parents.  Today I got a letter from an unexpected source.  I
opened it up and read it.


Dear Mr. Currie,

I read about you getting shot in the newspaper.  I'm real sorry and I hope
you get better soon.  You are a nice man and the boys need you an awful
lot.

I've learned a lot since I've been away and I know now how I blew my chance
to have a nice home and good family to live with.  I wanted to tell you
that I am sorry for what I did when I was there and I want you to tell Trey
that I'm sorry, too.  I had no right to do what I did to him and I know
that now.  Some of the older and bigger guys here did the same thing to me.
I didn't like it at all and I felt guilty afterward that I tried to do that
to Trey.

I hope that none of you hate me.  I was hoping that maybe you'd let me stop
by and say hello to you when I get out.  I'd like to tell all of you in
person that I'm sorry.  It just doesn't seem good enough to say it in this
letter.  I was a jerk and now I am paying for it.  I've learned my lesson
and I don't blame anybody but me for what happened.  I just wish that I'd
listened to you when you tried to tell me that what I was doing was wrong.

I hope you get well soon and I hope you will write to me.

Your friend, Frankie


It seems as if Frankie has learned a lesson, I hope that he truly has.
It's too bad that he had to learn it the hard way.  It sounds as though he
hasn't had it easy and that he was sexually and probably physically abused
by some of the other boys.  I do feel bad about that and I will write him
back and let him know that we accept his apology and that we would welcome
a visit from him.  I will discuss this with Trey tonight and clear it with
him before I send out any such letter.

My recovery had been slow, at least slow to me, but I felt that I was
nearly healed.  I was still using a cane to walk, as I was adjusting to my
new knee, but I was getting around fairly well.  It was now nearing the end
of March and it was a Friday afternoon when the doorbell rang.  Ricky
answered it and soon he was leading a teenage boy into the family room to
see me.  I didn't recognize the boy at all.

"Dad," Ricky said, "this guy says that he needs to talk to Mr. Currie.  Is
it okay?"

"Yes, Ricky.  I'll talk with him."  Ricky left us alone and I told the boy
to have a seat.

"Mr. Currie, my name is Carlos Garcia.  I read about you in the magazines
and also in the newspaper after you got shot.  That's how I was able to
find out where you live.  I was wondering if I could live here with you?"

Needless to say, I was caught completely off-guard by this request.
"Carlos, I think that I need to know much more about you before I can
decide anything like that."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Well, for starters, why do you want to live here?"

"Because I read that you have a good home and you are a good man.  It said
in the magazine that you adopted many boys and that you are a good father.
I wish to have that too."

"Don't you have any parents or someone who is responsible for you?"

"I lived with my mother.  We come here from Mexico.  We live in California
until she meets a man and then we move to Philadelphia with him.  He does
not like me and he is very mean.  My mother says that I must do as he says
because it is his house.  He beat me with his belt and I run away."

"How old are you, Carlos?"

"I am fourteen, sir."

"And why did this man beat you with his belt?"

Carlos froze when I asked him this.  It was as if he was afraid to answer.
After some coaxing, he told me the story.  "My mother was working and
Roberto, that's the man's name, wanted me to get him a beer from the
refrigerator.  I did but I was not careful when I sat it on the coffee
table.  It tipped over and spilled all over his cocaine.  He had the powder
on the table and the beer made it all wet and no good any more.  Roberto
took off his belt and started beating me with it.  He was screaming about
how much money I had just wasted.  I ran from the apartment and I was too
afraid to go back.

"When I saw the story in the newspaper about you getting shot, I remember
the story in the magazine.  I was able to find out city you live in from
the newspaper and I was able to get rides to get here.  I asked many people
where you lived until one man could tell me how to get to your house.  Will
you please let me live here with you?"

"Carlos, you can stay here while I check with friends of mine to see what
we can do legally.  Why didn't you go to the police?"

"My mother is not legal in this country.  We sneaked across the border at
night.  If I go to the police, they will send us back to Mexico."

"Look, I'll see what I can do but you'll will stay here while I check it
out."  I called for Ricky and he came into the room.  "Ricky, would you
find Pat and Danny for me?  I need to ask them a question."

"Sure, Dad.  I'll be right back."

"Carlos, do you have any clothes or other belongings?"

"No, sir.  When I left I could not pack any of my things.  If I had gone
back, Roberto would have beaten me worse."

"That's okay.  We'll buy you some things to tide you over."

Pretty soon Ricky returned, with Pat and Danny in tow.  "What do you need,
Dad?" Pat asked.

"Pat and Danny, this is Carlos and he needs a place to stay.  Would you two
mind sharing Danny's room and let Carlos stay in Pat's room, at least until
we can figure out what's going to happen with him?"

"Sure, Dad.  No problem," Pat answered.  He looked at Carlos.  "Hi, I'm
Pat.  Come on.  I'll show you up to your room."

"Hold on a second, champ," I warned him.  "Danny, are you okay with this?"

"Yeah, Dad.  I don't mind sharing my room with Pat.  We do it a lot,
anyway."

Now I turned to Carlos.  "Okay, Carlos, now you have a room, but have you
eaten today?"

"A little."

"What have you had to eat?"  He didn't look like he wanted to tell me.
"Just tell me," I urged him.  "You're not going to get into any trouble
over anything you say."

He still looked scared but he finally told me.  "I stole an apple and a
roll from the grocery store.  That's what I had to eat."

"Are you still hungry?"  He merely nodded his head up and down.  "Pat,
please take him into the kitchen and get him something to eat first.  Then
you can show him to the bathroom so he can take a bath or a shower.  See if
you can find some clothes that will fit him.  Danny, would you bring his
clothes down and wash them for me?"

"Sure, Dad.  I can do that for you."

"Thanks, Danny, and you too, Pat."

"Yeah, Dad, no problem," Pat answered.  "Come on, Carlos.  Let's go see
what you want to eat."

Pat made Carlos a sandwich and gave him a piece of fruit and a glass of
milk.  After that he showed Carlos to the upstairs bathroom and he filled
the tub with water so Carlos could take a bath.  Pat got Carlos a towel and
he gave him some of his own clothes to wear, since they were pretty close
in size.  Danny brought down Carlos' old clothes and threw them into the
washing machine a few minutes later.  When Carlos was done and dressed, Pat
showed him which room would be his, gave him a quick tour around the house,
and then he brought him back in to see me.

"You have a very big house, sir," Carlos told me.

"Yes, I do.  I hope that you don't get lost in it."

"I will try not to, sir."

"I know you will.  I was only joking about that."

"I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't know."

"Don't be sorry.  It's my fault.  I should have explained to you that I was
just kidding.  Do you feel better now, since you've eaten and bathed?"

"Oh, yes, sir.  Very much so, sir."

"Carlos, you're just going to have to stop calling me 'sir' all of the
time."

"Yes, sir.  I will, sir."

"I guess we'll have to work on that.  You can call me 'Josh' or 'Uncle
Josh' or even 'Pop', if you'd like."

"What do the other boys call you, sir?"

"They call me 'Dad' or 'Pop'."

"But I am not your son, like they are, sir.  What do you want me to call
you?"

"It's your choice, Carlos.  It really doesn't matter to me, as long as it's
not 'sir'."

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."

"Cut that out."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I give up.  Carlos, why don't you let Pat introduce you to the other boys
and maybe you can decide later what you want to call me.  They might be
able to help you decide."

"Very good, sir."  Pat grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the
room, chuckling as he went.  He knew that I didn't care for all the
formality of being called 'sir' all of the time.  It reminded me too much
of my days in the army.  Homes should not be run like basic training or
boot camp.  Respect and politeness are fine, and I do demand that, but it
can be taken too far.  To me, the constant use of 'sir' crosses my boundary
of desired politeness.

A short time later, I introduced Carlos to Sally when she arrived.  She had
dropped the boys off earlier but she had to return to her office for an
emergency meeting.  I gave her a quick rundown on Carlos' situation and
asked for her help.  She agreed.  I also gave Sally my credit card and
asked her to take Carlos shopping, as he had nothing of his own but the
clothes he was wearing when he arrived.  She was happy to assist and Pat
agreed to go with them to help.  They left right after dinner.  A couple of
hours later they came back in, with several bags that contained clothes,
athletic shoes, and a toothbrush.  Pat helped Carlos take the things up to
his room.

Sally told me that she would start working on his case on Monday and that
she'd call the Philadelphia office to report this Roberto character to the
authorities.  Carlos had been able to tell her the address of Roberto's
apartment, although he wasn't sure of his last name, as he had used
different surnames at different times.  That sounded like something a
criminal would do and Sally agreed.  She would make sure DSS and the police
checked up on this guy.

I also called the furniture store and ordered a queen-size bed for Danny's
room.  When Brandon showed up for good, the double bed would be very
cramped for three mature boys.  That should take care of the problem for
now.  I asked for it to be delivered on Saturday and then I told Danny and
Pat.  Danny loved the idea and he thanked Pat and me for arranging it.
When Pat asked him what he had done, Danny told him that by giving up his
room to Carlos, he had helped to ensure his getting a new bed.  Pat didn't
quite follow Danny's logic but he accepted his thank you.  We would place
the extra double bed somewhere for emergencies.  I would just have to
determine where that would be.

Besides Carlos' recent arrival, I had to focus on another matter that was
becoming more important.  It would just be a couple of more weeks until
spring vacation and my trip to Japan with Sammy and Andrew.  We would have
to start thinking about what to pack and I would need to think about how I
would handle the entire situation.  I would have to sit down with Sammy and
Andrew to prepare them as well.  I had to reassure them about my feelings
for them but also prepare them for what might happen in Japan.
Fortunately, I had ordered all the boys' passports back in January, in
preparation for my planned vacation with them, so Sammy and Andrew would
have theirs in time.  I had managed to have a friend take passport photos
without the boys learning what they were really for.  Instead, I told them
that I wanted their photos for my personal records.  The sheriff's
department had run a child safety program through school and I had all the
boys' fingerprints on cards in my fireproof safe.  I just told the boys
that the pictures were to be attached to those cards, for security reasons.
Of course, I had my friend take multiple shots of each boy so I would have
one for each purpose.

I could see Sammy and Andrew begin to get more and more wrapped up in their
emotions as spring break neared.  They were excited about seeing Japan and
where their father had lived, but they were concerned about their
grandparents trying to keep them there.  My attorney had assured me that
this wouldn't happen, but I've heard of worse horror stories than that
happening in foreign countries.  Once you're on foreign soil, you must
abide by the laws of that country and I wasn't sure what types of custody
laws they might have in Japan, particularly those related to grandparents'
legal rights.  Like I said, my lawyer told me that he had another Japanese
firm check that out for him and he told me that I had nothing to worry
about.  I pray that he is right.

		*    *     *     *     *     *     *     *
				     
If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at 
http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section.  
E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.