The usual cautions, precautions, copyright information, and other such things, such as this story contains sexual situations between consenting adolescent boys, it is copyrighted meaning please do not republish this story in any form without express written consent from, and attribution to the author, © 2010-2011 Joe Writer Man.
If reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then notice is given that you are reading at your own risk, and that © 2010-2011 Joe Writer Man is held forever and completely harmless should any legal action be taken against you.
*-* Monday *-*
At some point during the night, Peter made his way up the stairs because he lay with his head on my chest, his arm resting comfortably across my stomach, his leg draped across mine, and yes, his very erect male appendage poking me in my lower belly.
Did he come up on his own or did he have help?
At that point, I didn't care how he got to our bed, I was just glad that he was there.
I leaned my head down and softly kissed his head through his thick and unruly hair. I shuddered to think that I could very well have lost him because of the complications while he was on the operating table while giving a gift of life to his twin brother. These thoughts were tossed to the side when he moved an inch, maybe two and lightly kissed my chest right next to the nipple.
“Good morning, babe. I love you so much.” I said very softly running my hands through his hair with one hand while the other one, caught between my hips and his one hip, searched out then found his steel tool used to bring happiness and fulfillment to our physical needs for release. I squeezed it lightly. He groaned “Ahhhh, you found it <giggle>.”
“It wasn’t too hard to find.” I replied then began giggling, realizing what I had just said to him.
He giggled too “Yep, I hear ya. You are poking me with yours <giggles>.”
Without any warning whatsoever, he scooted down in bed. As he made his descent, he left little petal kisses all along the way, stopping only to thoroughly lick that little indentation that had connected me intimately to my mother prior to birth. Soon bored, he leaned up on his elbow then began thoroughly licking that area that once had and wore a blanket of dark fuzziness. Without any further adieu, he engulfed that pole rising up from the lower most end of my belly, from the midst of that once soft forest, all in one fell swoop with his hot and moist oral cavern.
I ran my hands over his back then twisted my body in a pretzel like fashion so that I could play with his globes. Very soon, I found that which sent shivers up and down his spine. Finding it, pressing on it purposely caused him to moan sending those decibels vibrating through and through and into my extremely needy, for lack of a better word, cock. My hips began, seemingly on their own, to undulate, to meet his down thrusts with upward thrusts until I could no longer stand it.
Then it happened. I felt the molten lava, slow at first, and then like a geyser shoot my essence into his waiting and wanting reservoir as my body spasmed uncontrollably.
When I was finished, he lazily made his way back up to my own oral area then wantonly snaked his tongue into my own cavern of love for him giving me a taste of my own medicine.
“I’ve got to pee badly. Help me up.” He said urgently.
“Do you feel better, babe? You received a massive dose of high energy protein.”
“Oh yeah, all healed. Come on. I’m busting.”
That said we got up, went into the bathroom then side by side stood in front of toilet and released torrents of stored up now sperm laden kidney functions.”
Finished, we got into the shower, got the temperature just right then began lathering our bodies. When I got to his nether regions down below, he turned around facing away then he backed up so that I could hold him firmly. He wiggled his butt then reached around, placed my dick head deep between his globes and pushed back.
“Just take it nice and slow for as long as you can.”
Needing no further encouragement, he sat down on the shower bench on top of my pole of pleasure. After some encouragement, his hole fully opened and permitted my entry into his deepest and darkest places, a place designed for pleasure both for him and for me.
With my cock impaling his love tunnel, I began rocking gently sending shivers of excitement through my body and out of my cock into his waiting and needy deep recesses. Soon, without warning, for the second time in mere minutes, my sperms traveled up and out of my cock, exploding in a shower of shimmering sparks and fireworks, filling his love chute with my essences.
At the same time, my hand was tightly gripping his pole, jacking his pole, then he too exploded sending a rope of pent up need out onto the clear glass shower door followed by lesser eruptions onto the floor, the shower seat beneath us then dribbled several drops onto my thighs and into his absent pubes.
“God I love you so much. Thank you. I’ve missed you babe.”
After washing our organs and after rinsing the shower door off, we dried, brushed our teeth, ran the blow dryer through our hair then satisfied that we could meet the world with a whole new attitude and fragrance, returned to our bedroom, donned sweat pants, commando style, then made our way downstairs where we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast consisting of pancakes covered with warm blueberry syrup, crisp bacon, an orange for him, a banana for me.
The attitude around the table was light hearted, jovial even. Antoine even joined into the banter. His smile is beautiful. Matt’s was beautiful. Dad and Peggy were filled with joy.
Allen and Angel, who were sitting next to us, played footsie under the table.
When we were about halfway through the meal, Jeremy and Jason joined us. They too were happily smiling.
“We need to leave at about 1:45 or 2:00 this afternoon to make sure we arrive on time. The dress will be casual. Dockers and polo shirts will be just fine.”
Antoine looked up. Silently, he got up then went out to the pool deck, sat down on a chaise lounge and put his head in his hands.
I looked at dad then Peggy who were getting up from the table. “I’ll go.” I said softly then got up, reached for my crutches and began to walk toward the door.
“I’m going too.” Angel said.
“Me too.” Jeremy said.
Allen, Jason, dad and Peggy, we all began our procession to go and be with Antoine during his time of profound grief.
Matt sat down on the lounge chair right next to Antoine, and pulled him into his arms. I sat down next to Antoine, reached for his hand and took it into mine and squeezed softly. Peggy, too, sat down, but behind him then wrapped her arms around him. Jeremy and Jason knelt down in front of him then put their hands on his thighs and squeezed lightly.
“Let’s celebrate Manual’s life at the funeral today. Manual brought a gift to you Antoine. Hold onto it. Nurture it. Feel his love for you. Feel his spirit because it passed through you onward into its next journey.” Peggy said softly.
“It’s not fair.” Antoine said looking up. His cheeks were tear trail stained. His eyes were bloodshot.
“No, life's not always fair. I’ve learned, over the years, out of unfairness comes fairness. Without grief we would not see nor appreciate nor know happiness and contentment with those around us.” Dad said assuredly.
“Sometimes bad things have to happen in order for good things to happen.” (© ACFan, CSUProductions, CornerCafe.us).” Peter said softly.
We arrived to the church at 1:50pm. The place was empty. We walked down to the 5th pew on the right and sat, staying close to Antoine to give him strength. Matt had Antoine's hand in his and was tightly squeezing it. I was happy for them, and I truly hoped that they would find the kind of love Peter and I shared. Since Matt was of the same blood line as Peter, I knew Matt had everything to offer... the question was 'could Antoine receive and return it?'
Peter looked tired but he smiled tensely. I knew the clothes he was wearing were uncomfortable but he insisted in being properly dressed for the occasion. I love him so much.
Matt also wanted to dress up like his brother however none of Peter's good clothes fit him adequately. Allen loaned him a dress shirt which he neatly tucked into his black sweatpants... he looked nice, as did all my brothers in their suits and ties and jackets. God, I loved my family so much.
We heard footsteps enter the back of the church. We all, as one, looked back and saw Maria and two boys enter. They were being escorted by someone, I assumed to be from the funeral home. Two other funeral home dudes rolled the boys' small casket down the center aisle and parked it in front of the altar, and then assisted Maria and her sons to their seats in the front row.
The older of the two boys kissed his mothers' cheek then got up and walked to the closed in area behind the altar. He walked very, very slowly... surely his pain with losing his brother was very great... my next thought was that he'd lost two brothers in all actuality.
A couple of minutes later that same boy, wearing a white and black cassock, entered the altar area with a candle lighting device. Reverently, slowly, one by one, he lit each of the candles, and then headed back into the closed area.
A couple of minutes later, an older man exited that same enclosed area and walked to Maria and the younger boy. He sat down next to them and talked to her quietly. When he got finished, he got up and walked to our gathering. He said, “Maria wishes for you to join her. Would you please follow me?”
We joined them. Each of us kissed Maria's cheek as we took our seats. When I looked up, the priest was talking softly with Antoine in hushed tones.
Antoine then walked to his mother and whispered something in her ear. She kissed his cheek then Antoine walked up front with the priest and disappeared into the back room.
“Antoine, would you please help to serve Mass? The other two boys didn't show up. I have one but I need you too. Please?”
“Of course, let me speak to my mother.” I replied readily. It was the best I could do for the little boy I loved so much, the boy who was taken from this life much too soon.
“Father Ben needs an altar boy. I can honor Manual’s memory in a good way.” I said to mom.
“You'll do well. We’ll be right here waiting for you.” Mom whispered into my ear.
I kissed her cheek then moved over to Matt and kissed his. “I'm going to serve Mass. It's the least I can do for Manual.” I whispered in his ear.
Jesus was standing, looking away from the doorway. His head was down, and his arms were close to the front of his body, I couldn't see them.
I walked to him. I reached for his shoulders but he stepped away. What happened next shocked me to my core. In his hands was a very large knife. He held it out at a 90 degree angle to his chest and began the trajectory arc to cause him grievous harm, even death.
Without even thinking of it, I reached across his shoulder and stopped its trajectory with my bare hand and then pushed it away and then knocked it out of his hands and then took him down to the floor. He was kicking and fighting me, trying to get away, all the while desperately reaching for the knife. One of his kicks connected with my balls – but I disregarded it with my mental training... but I did pull him into a body lock hold and held him still.
Eventually, he tired out from his exertions, and then began crying. He said, crying, "Me dejes morir. Yo no salvar a mi hermano de Pablo. Él no merecía morir, Antoine. Yo le había fallado." [Let me die. I didn't save my brother from Pablo. He didn't deserve to die, Antoine. I failed him.]
"No, hombre pequeño, que no dejó de manual. Nadie le falló, excepto Pablo que lo mató con su espada. Usted no puede hacerle daño a su madre ... ¿qué haría ella si ella perdió a tres hijos?" [No, little man, you didn't fail Manual. Nobody failed him except Pablo who killed him with his sword. You cannot hurt your mother... what would she do if she lost three sons?]
"Tendría que haberme matado, Antoine. Me habría encantado que lo haga si le han dejado solo manual. Para esto yo le falló. Nunca me lo perdonaré. Nunca seré capaz de vivir mi vida. Por favor, mátame, yo no soy digno de vivir." [He should have killed me, Antoine. I would have gladly let him do it if he would have left Manual alone. For this I failed him. I will never forgive myself. I will never be able to live my life. Please, kill me, I am not worthy of living.]
Father Ben had entered the room while Jesus and I were talking. He knelt down after picking up the knife and putting it in a cabinet high up from the floor, and far from Jesus' reach. He looked to me for explanation. I said, “Jesus feels as if he failed Manual. He was going to use the knife to kill himself. I stopped him from doing it. I'm trying to tell him that it's not his fault, that there was nothing more he could have done. But I don't think he's listening.”
Jesus has stopped fighting me when Father Ben entered the room. Father Ben took Jesus from my arms and held him against his broad expansive chest and began whispering in his ear. I stood up, walked around the room all the while trying to figure out something I could do to help ease his pain.
This was going to be a matter of mind control. I would pass this on to Jesus.
I walked to Jesus, took hold of his hand and pulled him to a standing position. Authoritatively I said, “Estás perdonado. Tenemos que enterrar Manual. Debemos respetar su memoria. Era un buen muchacho. Yo lo amaba. Usted lo amaba. Pablo tiene que morir. Manual de la muerte debe ser vengada. Ven, vamos a honrar su vida.” [You are forgiven. We must bury Manual. We must respect his memory. He was a good boy. I loved him. You loved him. Pablo must die. Manual's death must be avenged. Come, we will honor his life.]
Jesus got up very, very slowly. He was in obvious pain. Very quickly I ran my hands across his body but saw no blood or other obvious sign of injury until I reached his upper thigh. He flinched and moved to get away but I stopped him.
I bore holes through his eyes and down into his soul. He acquiesced and permitted me to continue my search for his pain. I ran my hand alongside his groin which elicited a very quick reaction from him... and not in a way to keep me from touching him... rather the flinched in pain.
Without a second thought, I lifted the cassock from his shoulders. Father Ben took it and held it. I looked deeply into Jesus' eyes before I took hold of the top of his stretch pants and lowered them to his knees. I was shocked beyond belief to see his underwear fully filled though his penis was not hard. I took hold of the waistband and lowered them gently to the level of his pants.
His testicles were massively bruised and swollen. His uncircumcised penis lay limply to the left side, resting comfortably on top of that ball. It too was swollen but not nearly as bad as his sperm makers.
Tears sprang from Jesus' eyes, rolled down his face and landed on his dirty filthy shirt. When I looked back into his eyes he reached down and pulled his shorts and pants up to cover that which was causing him great pain.
"¿Cómo sucedió esto a usted? Dime, y no me mientas." [How did that happen to you? Tell me, and do not lie to me.]
Quickly, Jesus wiped away his tears, stood up tall and pronounced, "Es mi castigo. Manual y tuve relaciones sexuales con frecuencia. A él le gustaba. A mí me gustó. Nos amábamos. Tengo que ser castigado." [It is my punishment. Manual and I had sex frequently. He liked it. I liked it. We loved each other. I must be punished.]
I looked at Jesus, flabbergasted. I did not understand why he would hurt himself in such a way... unless...
“"Pablo tenía que coger dos tener sexo? ¿Qué hizo?" [Did Pablo catch you two having sex? What did he do?]
Jesus shook his head 'no'. He became frightened. He started shaking. Instinctively, I pulled the boy into my chest and belly, put my hands around his face and lifted it so that we could once again become eye to eye. I pierced his soul with all the power I could bring to the front lines. He said, "Sí. Hasta ese momento, me gustaría tomar el castigo de Pablo. Se me haría daño, pero me salvó a Jesús de Pablo, hasta ese momento cuando yo no podía darle lo suficiente, y yo sucios Pablo. Se puso muy, muy enojado y comenzó a golpear a Manual. Luego empujó lo suyo a mi hermano. Se rió de mí." [Yes. Up until that time, I would take Pablo's punishment. It would hurt me but I saved Jesus from Pablo, until that time when I could not give him enough, and I soiled Pablo. He became very, very angry and began beating Manual. Then he pushed his thing into my brother. He laughed at me.]
"Jesús, lo que Pablo hizo a Manual no fue su culpa. Que son pequeños. Él es grande. Manual era aún más pequeño. No se sienta culpable. Manual, que podría haber y debe tener y habría matado a Pablo si hubiera saber lo que le hizo a su hermano y usted. Mi mamá y Jim dice que tengo que confiar en el sistema para hacer justicia a Pablo, como se debe. Vamos, tenemos que honrar a Manual. Después de honrar a su hermano, tendré que buscar mi mamá en sus glándulas. Ella sabrá qué hacer." [Jesus, what Pablo did to Manual was not your fault. You are small. He is big. Manual was even smaller. Do not blame yourself. Manual, I could have and should have and would have killed Pablo if I would have know what he did to your brother and you. My mom and Jim say that I have to trust the system to bring justice to Pablo, as should you. Come, we must honor Manual. After we honor your brother, I'll have my mom look at your glands. She will know what to do.]
Just then I felt a soft hand rest on my shoulder. I turned around. It was mom. She said to me, “What will I know what to do, my son?”
I told her, in essence, what Jesus had told and showed me. Jesus permitted me to drop his pants again so that mom could see for herself.
Mom didn't think anything serious was wrong despite the appearance of his genitals. She, through me, made Jesus promise to not hurt himself again, and if he did then she would have to take him to the hospital away from his mother and remaining brother. He promised to do himself no further harm. I believed him. So did mom.
The service was late starting but the wait was all worth it. I resolved to kill Pablo if I ever got the chance; otherwise I'd leave him to his 'friends' in jail to bring him ultimate justice.
Instead of Father Ben giving a homily, I was asked to speak a few words so I walked up to the podium not knowing really what to say since I had known him for only a short time then the words came to me:
“Manual era un muchacho que había conocido sólo por un tiempo tan corto, pero su impacto fue enorme. Estaba en paz consigo mismo. Era un muchacho a quien le encantaba jugar. Él era un muchacho que dio de sí mismo. Aún no había aprendido las formas de odio. Me conmovió profundamente. Fue y sigue siendo un don de la memoria. Crecí con él el amor en nuestro tiempo corto. Gracias, manual, por ser una parte de mi vida. Gracias.”
I repeated my words in English: “Manual was a boy who I had only known for such a short time but his impact was huge. He was at peace with himself. He was a boy who loved to play. He was a boy who gave of himself. He had not yet learned the ways of hatred. He touched me deeply. He was and continues to be a gift of memory. I grew to love him in our short time. Manual, thank you for being such an important person in my life.”
As I walked back to my seat next to Momacita, I began crying. All hatred left me. The hatred for Pablo even left although my promise to Manual and his mother and Jesus remained strong: if the legal system fucked up then I was going to fuck Pablo up far beyond this worst dreams. I always keep my promises.
Jim took us all out to dinner at a fancy steak restaurant. Much levity was present. My heart was soaring high in gratitude. Momacita was even smiling through her swollen, beaten and battered facial structures. Jesus and AZ helped her to eat. She ate wholeheartedly.
When we were finished eating, we all piled into the Escalade then took Momacita, AZ and Jesus to their home. My farewells to them were painful. Many tears were shed. Just as we were getting ready to leave, Jesus came to me, took my hand in his then led me inside. When we arrived, he took me to the room that he shared with his brothers. The room was total chaos. The beds had stains on them – they had been there for quite some time, obviously. Some were relatively recent. Few clothes were scattered about, none of them clean.
Regardless of the sights filling our eyes, he closed the dilapidated door then came to me, pulled me into his arms, kissed me on both cheeks as is custom then said, “Gracias por tu perdón. Nunca te pueden recompensar adecuadamente. Gracias por salvarme la vida para que pueda cuidar a mi madre y mi hermano pequeño. Manual se ha muerto pero su memoria perdura.” [Thank you for your forgiveness. I can never repay you adequately. Thank you for saving my life so that I can take care of my mother and my little brother. Manual is gone but his memory lives.”
“Está bien, Jesús. Sea así. Te veré pronto. Debemos ser amigos. Las cosas buenas vendrán a tu manera. Establecer un sueño para ti mismo, aferrarse a él, vaya para él, no guardes, mantenga a su favor. Se va a suceder, simplemente espere y verá.” [You are okay, Jesus. Be well. I will see you soon. We must be friends. Good things will come your way. Set a dream for yourself, hold onto it, go for it, do not hold back, and keep going for it. It will happen, just you wait and see.”
Arm in arm, we left his room in the only home he had ever known. Surely their lives would rebuild after the loss of their son and brother.
Next, AZ came up to me, looked me directly into my eyes then said “Ven conmigo, por favor, Antoine.” [Come with me, please, Antoine].”
He put his hand in mine then led me down to the shore that Manual loved so much. He sat down in the warm sand, looked deeply into my eyes. Here I was wearing fine clothes then without hesitation or reservation I sat down next to him. He took my arm into his saying “Aquí es donde Manual fue feliz. Aquí es donde Manual jugados. Su corazón se disparó aquí. Aquí es donde voy a recordar su sonrisa, su risa, su amor de su vida. Nada mal.” [This is where Manual was happy. This is where Manual played. His heart soared here. This is where I will remember his smile, his laughter, his love of his life. Nothing was wrong here.”
After a pause, after a sob escaped from his being, then with remaining tears in his eyes added “Manual no fue herido aquí. Era libre de los dolores de su joven vida.” [Manual was not hurt here. He was free of the pains of his young life.”
We sat there in silence for perhaps 15 to 30 minutes just watching the waves come in, go out. We listened to the music, the wonderful music that brought peace into our hearts.
A few minutes later, mom came walking down to us. Her hands on my shoulders startled me yet they were comforting at the same time. She was smiling broadly then kissed me softly on my cheek. “Come on, we need to go. Peter and Matt are extremely tired. They need to lie down to rest their tired bodies.”
I nodded then got up. I extended my hand to AZ but he shook his head then said “Voy a quedarme aquí por un tiempo. Gracias por compartir este momento conmigo. Estaré siempre en deuda con usted. Gracias por traer alegría. Espero verte pronto.” [I am going to stay here for a while. Thank you for sharing this moment with me. I shall be forever indebted to you. Thank you for bringing joy. I hope to see you soon.]
“Si. Audios amigo.” [Yes. Good bye friend.]
After arriving at Jim’s home, I helped to put Matt in bed while David helped to get Peter arranged for a much needed sleep, Allen, Angel, Jeremy and David announced they were going swimming for a while. They asked me to join them. After receiving a nod of approval from mom I started to head upstairs to change into my swimming suit but Jeremy motioned me to follow them onto the pool deck. I did.
As soon as the kitchen door to the pool was closed clothes went flying in all different directions then one by one dove into the pool. I looked back through the window. Mom and Jim were looking on. When mom caught my eye she nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She blew me a kiss then turned around and walked away from the windows.
Without a single moment of hesitation, my clothes went flying in the direction of the table sitting next to the pool then I too dove in, joined the other guys playing a game of water soccer. They accommodated my limited knowledge of the game. My speed and skills came into being for a good cause this time. I actually had unreserved fun … just as I had had when AZ and I were sitting on the ocean beach.
Later on, after dinner and cleanup were accomplished we all sat in their TV room just lounging around. Nothing notable was on the tube so Jim began talking. He began by sharing how his family had changed over the last several months.
David shared about the loss of his leg to cancer treatment.
Peggy shared about things from her life that we had not yet talked about … mainly because we had not taken the time to have a heart to heart conversation about them. She shared about the son she had never known because he had been given up for adoption. She shared about her younger childhood desires to become a nun, locked away in prayer and meditation, away from society. She went into nursing in the hopes that one day she would be useful. She shared her joys of gaining a child to hold, to take care of, to lead through this life, and to find fulfilled love – then said, through tears, she had found that boy.
Tears were running down my cheeks. They were not held in check. They could not have been held in check. It was impossible to hold them in check.
I got up from my chair then went to her, urged her to stand. When she stood up, I pulled her into a hug then without any reservation or embarrassment whatsoever, I briefly kissed her on the lips.
After turning to the room full of friends, I said clearly “This is my mother. I have held back afraid. Yes I have been afraid to get close to anyone. Thank you, Matt. Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Jim. Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you, Allen. Thank you, Angel. David, thank you.”
Peter then spoke telling his story from birth to the present. Then with a nod from Peter, Matt, while looking at me intently, told his story. In many ways their stories paralleled each others. They laughed and they cried together throughout, so did I, so did the rest of the gang, our brothers.
Jim, then spoke and talked about his marriage to David and Jeremy’s mother, how her death wrecked his life, and utterly how her departure from this life turned it upside down. Then he shared of the joys of gaining new children in his life.
He then shared about his undying desires to bring those that hurt, harmed and took Peter and Matt’s choices away to justice, and how those who did that to them had left the country to avoid taking responsibility, to avoid being held accountable. He spoke with much anger and hatred in his voice, yet balanced what he had just said with hope for their futures, for the futures of all of his children.
Reading his emotions and unsaid words, I vowed that I would speak with him and offer my assistance.
Jeremy talked about his struggles with his sexuality, how his friends had walked away from him after he shared his findings and self-acceptance with them. He also shared about when he killed that man who was bringing hurt, harm and removal of choices from his brother, Peter. He began crying with unresolved shame, guilt, remorse and yes, even hatred at what he had done – yet he was struggling with the knowledge that he perhaps saved Peter from more grief. He was seriously struggling.
His pain gave me strength, not in a selfish way – not at all, to begin sharing my story, my story that nobody, not even mom knew about nor anyone else.
I shared my history of running drugs, being a drug mule … and then, because nobody was judging me, hating me, or thinking any negative thoughts (I can read people in a heartbeat), I then looked at Jeremy and said, “Jeremy, I have taken 8 lives – but only when my life or the life of another was in utter, complete and impending jeopardy. Why I was in that position was not of my fault. I had been taught how to defend myself – but the reasons behind being taught to defend myself were misplaced whereas your reasons were and are pure. Please do not blame yourself for what you did. You may never find complete solace – just know you did what had to be done. I find no fault. You are good. You are respectable. I love you as a person. I love you as a kindred spirit. I love all of you. Thank you for traveling with me.”
When our stories were told, when our tears were dried up, when smiles overtook and enveloped us, when peace and serenity replaced heartache and angst, when our pain and suffering were replaced with purpose – with levity, banter, joy and peace we prepared for and made homemade ice cream and ate every single drop.
When the rest of the family was heading to bed I pulled Jim aside then said solemnly and determinedly “Jim, I’ll help you in any way that I can to bring those idiots to justice for what they did to Matt and Peter. Because of my work, I have met many people both good and bad. Where did those criminals, where did those cock roaches run away to?”
*** To be continued
If you have comments about my story, please write me at Joe Writer Man. All my stories are located on my parent website Joe Writer Man Stories.