The Redemption – Book II – Chapter 29

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, © 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 © Joe Writer Man is held forever and completely harmless should any legal action be taken against you.

This is solely a work of fiction. Any semblance to any real live person is purely incidental and coincidental, and is a figment of the authors’ imagination.

The following morning Skeeter and I were awoken by mom's raps on my bedroom door, peeking her head in, announcing, “Boy's, it's time to wake up. We have a lot to do today.”

I mumbled through a foggy sleep filled mind, “Okay, we'll be up in a few. Love ya.”

I lay my head on the soft down pillow, closed my eyes. Within 2 seconds I felt myself sinking back into sleep however Skeeter had other plans: he bounded out of bed, yanked the covers off, jumped on my bones and began tickling my chest for all he was worth. Not a good thing to do... I was still very sensitive to uncontrolled laughing and carrying on. He saw my grimaces; he stopped the assault and replaced it with gentle kisses and apologies. Soon enough he kissed his way down into my absent bush, took my member fully into his hot steaming oral cavity, began a rather (very) pleasant travel to Nirvana, and then readily and greedily accepted my offerings of rich creamy and tasty nectar.

Deftly raising my legs up and over my shoulders I urged his presence into my rampantly awaiting sexual intercourse orifice however he met fierce resistance which made his entrance impossible despite our continued attempts. I said, “I'll make things work out <giggle> let's go take a shower.”

With hopes and dreams we padded to the bathroom. Skeeter closed the door behind him while I sat on the throne, provided many presents to the sewer system, wiped up and joined him in the shower. We washed each others' bodies. Skeeter paid particular attention to my backdoor, soon entered, and very quickly reached his moment and deposited his protein rich love potions.

Elated, we finished our duties, dried off and got dressed for whatever the day brought.

Entering the kitchen mom announced that she was soon heading off to the hospital and thought it well that we accompany her reminding us that Timmy was awaiting our arrival, and that we may very well might like to stop in and see Wayne.

After a wonderful breakfast we took off for the hospital, arriving some 30 minutes later.

While mom, Skeeter and I were consuming the breakfast she had prepared Nathan entered. He tossed his overnight bag on the floor by the trash compactor, raced to his bedroom, and slammed the door shut sending reverberations throughout the house.

Immediately mom arose from her seat at the table, headed to his room, knocked on his door. We heard no response from Nathan so mom entered and shut the door behind her. A few minutes later she returned with one exceptionally distraught 12 year old boy, my brother, Skeeter's friend. Tears streaked his face, his demeanor clearly indicating he did not want to be away from the safe cocoon of his room.

Not knowing what was up with him I said, “Hey bro, what up?”

Nathan looked away from me and did not say anything. Skeeter arose from his chair, walked to Nathan, drew him into a hug and held on firmly. Mom asked Nathan, “Honey have you eaten breakfast yet?”

Sullenly, Nathan replied, “No. I'm not interested. Can I go to my room?”

I got up after eating the last piece of bacon on my plate, finished my orange juice then placed the glass and plate in the dishwasher. I said to Nathan, “Let's go talk; come on.”

Nathan, with tears forming in his eyes said softly, “There isn't anything to talk about. Linda and I broke up.” He broke away, headed to his room and closed the door however he didn't slam it like he had before.

I looked to mom. She was about to say something but thought differently when I said, “Maybe we could talk to him easier than you can right now... if it's okay.” Mom nodded.

With that Skeeter quickly finished eating his eggs and a last piece of bacon, slurped down the milk remaining in his cereal bowl, rinsed his plate, bowl and glass, joined me then we walked to Nathan's room. I knocked. Softly he replied from behind the closed door, “Come in.”

Skeeter and I entered, closed the door behind us, walked to Nathan, pulled him into a deep, deep hug and whispered, “I'm sorry. Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“What's there to talk about? She dumped me.”

That said Nathan pulled away, stood up, stripped to his underwear tossing his clothes here and there and everywhere. He did sit back down and leaned into my side, covered his face and began quietly weeping. Immediately the room filled with the smells of pussy.

Skeeter laid his arm across Nathan's shoulders, Nathan didn't object, and said, “So what happened?”

Nathan shuddered, “Doesn't matter what happened. She dumped me.”

“Yeah, we gathered that but what happened to make her dump you? If you did something then maybe we need to talk to keep it from happening again, I don't know.”

Nathan shuddered violently then became quiet. I knew my brother, probably better than he knew himself, and I knew to not force him to talk, that he would talk when he was ready.

As predicted, about 15 minutes later, Nathan said haltingly, “I puked. She made me... uhm...”

Skeeter said, “She made you puke? How's that?”

Nathan carefully regarded me and then Skeeter. He lowered his head back into his chest, remained quiet other than for a shudder once in a while. Finally, his hesitation and silence ended in a hurry saying, “I popped my nut too fast, it went down, wouldn't come back up... and well she didn't get her moment. She got pissed because I wouldn't eat her pussy, I couldn't get past her belly button. That's when she pushed my head into her twat forcing my nose in there. I started gagging cuz I was going to puke. I told her I would finger her but she pushed my hand away saying that she fingers herself all the time and that it was boring. Before I wretched my guts up I pulled my head away and started working on her lips in the hopes that my dick would get hard again... she... she...”

At that point, Nathan shuddered violently and acted like he was going to puke. I got up, fetched the trash can and put it in front of him. He held it in and didn't throw up as the feeling left him.

Skeeter said, “Did it work? Were you able to get hard again?”

Nathan replied, “A little bit but not enough. I couldn't get it in her. That's when, I mean, yeah, that's when, uhm... well, I went back down there, nuzzled my face in her bush and tried to get her off that way.”

“Did that work?” Skeeter asked calmly.

“I don't know if that would have worked or not. She kicked me off the bed; I hit my head on her fucking nightstand. She told me to get the fuck out...”

Incredulously I asked Nathan, “She broke the relationship off because you couldn't eat her pussy?”

“She told me I wasn't a man... if I couldn't eat pussy. She called me a little boy who couldn't control my dick better. Anyway, I went to the bathroom to get her some towels... when I returned she'd locked the door and screamed for me to leave her fuckin house... her words, not mine.”

With that Nathan dissolved into a puddle of racking sobs.

Skeeter and I enfolded him in our arms and just let him express his emotions. I stopped him when he began denigrating his efforts at pleasing a woman, telling himself and us that he was a worthless piece of shit, and other negative things. I said to Nathan, “Geez bro, there's more to sex than eating pussy. Hell, I've been with girls, I've fucked women – shit man, I can't eat pussy either... that's just fucking nasty... I mean who the fuck wants to eat a dead fuckin fish – YUCK!”

Skeeter pantomimed puking in the trash can... the only problem with that was: he actually puked his guts up. Nathan put his arms around Skeeter to provide him support. Nathan giggled, somewhat, “I see you can't eat pussy either.”

Skeeter bopped Nathan a good one on his deltoids as he wretched one more time. I reached for a Kleenex, handed it to Skeeter. He wiped his mouth clean, removed his shirt that had gotten stained and then tossed it to the floor in front of the door, “No shit Sherlock. Jesus Christ, Joey, you should've told me... knowing your stick was in a pussy gags the hell out of me.” Skeeter pointed to the trash can then he giggled.

That broke the tension. We laughed heartily. I brought it back to the moment saying, “What she said about your manhood is pretty mean Nathan. Do you always pop your nut before giving her what she needs?”

“No, it was the first time. We were both horny as hell... and well... I failed...”

Nathan shuddered once again, began sniffling, put his head back into his hands. I said, “You didn't fail bro. It happens to all of us, doesn't it Skeeter?”

“No shit. The first time Joey and I did it, I cummed before I ever got it in. Joey's my man... and well I just proved it.” Skeeter said laughing. Nathan snickered.

Taking it back to the situation, I added, “She had no right to tell you that you aren't a man. I, for a fact, know differently.”

Skeeter looked at me questioningly. I replied, “Yeah, Nathan and I've sucked dick and jacked off together a few times.”

I then looked at Nathan with an intensity second to none. He looked into my eyes. I nodded. He nodded. I said, “Nathan was curious, okay...”

Nathan continued, “I was curious about what it felt like... you know... to have a dick inside of me...”

I said to Nathan then to Skeeter, “I didn't want Nathan to find out what it was like out there on the street... so I showed him... we had full sex.”

When Skeeter didn't respond as quickly as I'd hoped for I started to say that we'd only done it that one time but Skeeter interrupted me and said, “Nathan, it's not a big deal, really it isn't. Joey and I, well mainly me, had and I still do have sex with Luke, my adopted brother... soo... how did you like it?”

Nathan shrugged his shoulders … he was neither disgusted nor all excited and stuff … though he did relax a whole lot with Skeeter's disclosure.

“Thanks bros. I feel terrible though. I thought I loved her but I don't know what it is... I'm pretty confused.”

“Understandable. Maybe next time, I don't know, but maybe if you know you're going to get some then maybe jack off or something beforehand. That'll probably slow things down but I don't know for sure. What do you think?”

Nathan thought about it for a second, replaying the events over again in his head then said, “That might work, I guess.”

Skeeter added, “Nathan, I think she was being selfish... FISH... YUCK!”

Nathan giggled, “Yeah, it's not all it’s made out to be... I mean... sure... my dick liked it... thanks.”

That said Nathan stood, unceremoniously stripped his underwear off leaving him stark naked. His cock was standing straight up and out from his pubes. Seeing his respectable bush I turned Nathan around to where it was in front of my face but it smelled too much like pussy to do what I really wanted to do for him.

“Yeah, it's pretty nasty... besides that your boyfriend is here.”

Skeeter laughed. Without hesitation Skeeter and I pulled Nathan to the bed. I took hold of Nathan's rigid spear with my fingers then proceeded to jack him. Skeeter, meanwhile, spread Nathan's legs and began fingering Nathan's asshole which, between the two of us, sent Nathan into orbit around Nirvana. Nathan sprayed his delights all over my hand, his tummy. His final squirt or two landed in his pubes.

When Nathan recovered, I kissed his lips quickly but tenderly. Skeeter did likewise.

Nathan said, “You guys are the greatest... thanks... uhm, I'm going to take a shower.”

With that Nathan kissed me again then left his room entered the bathroom closing the door behind him.

Skeeter and I got up from Nathan's bed and then, despite our rampantly hard cocks, left and walked to the kitchen.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table reading mail. When we entered she looked up, pushed the papers aside, urged us to sit and then waited for me to speak.

“Mom, I think you'd better ask Nathan so that he can tell you for himself what he feels comfortable with telling you. Uhm, Linda said and did something to Nathan that hurt his feelings terribly.”

“Like what? What did she say that caused him to be so upset?”

Skeeter offered, “She basically told him that he's not a man because of what happened... what happened is what he needs to tell you in his own way, or not. It's very, very personal and private. I'm not sure he'd want to tell his mom 'that'.”

Mom got his concerned look on her face. When the bathroom door opened not three minutes later, she got up, walked into Nathan's room and closed his door behind her.

Twenty or thirty minutes later they both emerged and entered the kitchen. Nathan had a smile on his face. He said, “Thanks guys, I'm okay now.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth his cell phone rang with acid rock sounds. He looked at the caller ID, looked at mom when he realized who it was that was calling. He shrugged his shoulders and handed the phone to mom. Mom answered the call, “Hi Linda. Nathan's not ready to talk. You really hurt his feelings. What you said to him is absolutely untrue. I'll talk to your parents later when I have the time. Goodbye Linda.” Click.

Mom then said, “Come on men, to the hospital.”

Nathan grinned. A pang of warm feelings overspread my head and heart. He firmly squeezed my hand and said, “Come on Mr. Studly, we've got people to see, places to go and things to do, shall we?”

“We shall!” I replied happily.

Nathan rolled his eyes yet at the same time took a deep breath and smiled warmly.

Just as we were leaving for the hospital, dad wearing his overalls and cowboy boots entered the kitchen. He immediately went to mom, kissed her sweetly and hugged her gently. Mom said to Nathan, “Do you want to talk to your dad?”

Dad looked at Nathan with concern, nodded then walked to Nathan and drew him into a hug. Nathan said, “Uhm dad, we're going to the hospital to see Timmy. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. You know you can talk to me about anything anytime. Do we need to talk now?”

“No, I'll be okay but I want to talk to you later, okay?”

Dad drew Nathan into a hug, kissed his cheek and then hugged me then Skeeter. Mom drew Nathan into a deep, deep hug, whispered something into his ear which caused Nathan to smile widely.

…

The nurses at the front desk in the ICU advised us that Timmy had been transferred to the pediatric floor late that morning. Mom checked her PDA patient list and found that indeed he had been moved. We headed to the pediatric floor which was across the sprawling hospital. Arriving about 20 minutes later Timmy was exiting the bathroom. His hair was wet and he had water dripping down his back. Mom retrieved a towel from the supply cabinet in his room, dried his hair and back then playfully smacked Timmy on his bare bottom eliciting a giggle from him.

Other than for his wet hair and goose bumps the next thing I noticed was that his color was much better, that he no longer looked gaunt and pasty. He was very glad to see us. I reached for a hospital gown, helped him get into it while mom attended to his other needs. Nathan got in the deal by retrieving his hairbrush. He stood waiting for mom to finish her ministrations and then when she was finished he began brushing Timmy's hair, making sure it was just right.

Timmy beamed at the attention being paid to him. I felt protective toward this child, more so than I had for any other child, excluding Nathan of course.

“Thanks, but who are you?” Timmy sheepishly asked Skeeter.

Skeeter replied, “I'm Stephen Richardson but everybody here calls me Skeeter. Just call me Skeeter, and not late for dinner.” This elicited a giggle from Timmy. They shook hands in the guy sort of way... that is bumping knuckles followed by a brief breast-to-breast touch.

I said to Timmy, “The Stud here is my boyfriend... we've talked about him before.”

Recognition passed across Timmy's face, “Oh okay, now I remember, sorry Skeeter, I get scatter brained at times.”

“No problem.”

Just then a man entered Timmy's room. He introduced himself as a dentist and was there to examine Timmy's mouth. When he finished he announced that Timmy would require extensive restorative and orthodontic treatments. He also informed us that many of Timmy's problems resulted from neglect and malnutrition. Mom and he discussed follow up appointment scheduling, and that Timmy's condition would markedly improve once he was eating healthily, avoiding sweets, and regular regimen of self-care.

We stayed until just after Timmy had eaten his lunch. Although his appetite hadn't very much returned, he did, with our encouragement, eat his high protein, high carbohydrate meal to where his plate was devoid of any food scraps and his glass of whole milk drank. The nurse then brought him a protein milk shake that he happily consumed with the least amount of effort.

After sharing heartfelt hugs and kisses we took off for Wayne's room in the PSICU.

Nathan, because of his age, was not permitted into the ICU proper. He was okay with the situation because that was how it was. He soon busied himself with a comic book sitting on a table. We said we wouldn't be a whole long time.

Mom indicated that while Wayne had had many tubes and wires removed because of his forward progress he still had many remaining, and that we shouldn't be alarmed because he'd lost so much weight as a result of not eating because of all his medical treatments.

I told Skeeter about Clara' arrest. He didn't appear to be all that surprised but didn't say anything either way.

Before going into Wayne's room, Skeeter took my hand in his, led us into the hallway public restroom where we peed and washed our hands. As we were drying our hands under the blower apparatus he said, “Are you okay, Joey?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I can't help but to think Wayne will be okay with us visiting.”

Skeeter insisted, “No, I asked if you're going to be okay. You know...”

Thinking for a moment, I could see how Skeeter might have been somewhat upset because Wayne and I had had a deep and intimate relationship at one time. Yes, Wayne and I had loved each other intensely in our own ways, Wayne toward me more than I had had toward him... no wait, I had loved Wayne too, very deeply so, but had been unable to say so, in a way that Skeeter and I found so easy. I said to Skeeter, “Yeah, I'm fine. I still love Wayne but not in the same way as we used to. I love you, and I hope that I tell you often enough.”

Skeeter nodded then very, very tenderly, we kissed, thus further cementing our love for each other in a way that we both understood. With that, we exited the bathroom. Mom was nowhere to be seen. I said to Skeeter, “Mom's probably in with Wayne. She's kind of his doctor. She saved his life in surgery.”

Skeeter nodded. Slowly, almost hesitantly, we entered Wayne's room where we found that mom was indeed checking Wayne over. She looked up, smiled and encouraged us to fully enter Wayne's cubicle type room.

Wayne looked our way. His eyes scrunched closed yet tiny narrow slits remained. Unable to stop myself, I walked to Wayne's bedside, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Skeeter moved around to the other side of his bed and did the same.

“Hey Wayne, I've missed ya.” Skeeter said to Wayne. Skeeter's sincerity was evidenced by the inflection in his voice and in his body language.

Wayne looked into Skeeter's eyes. Skeeter giggled seeing Wayne's hesitation, “I got my hair cut off, I've gained weight, and well we're 7 or 8 months older than the last time we saw each other. I'm still Skeeter.”

Recognition immediately took over when Wayne realized who the boy was that kissed his forehead. Wayne nodded appreciating Skeeter's presence. Wayne then looked to me and wiggled his eyebrows as if he were trying to say something or ask me a question. Mom, noticing Wayne's plight promptly retrieved a pen and pad, placed them within Wayne's grasp. All the while looking at me, barely even blinking, Wayne wrote some words on the pad. He nodded. I took the pad. A horrific pain took hold of me nearly causing me to strangle from my throat slamming shut thus disallowing me to breathe with life sustaining forces. The note read but two words, “KILL ME”. Wayne then looked for and found a spot on the ceiling to stare at.

I looked to mom. She couldn't read what I was silently saying with my mouth. I patted Wayne's hand then walked to mom and asked her to leave for a few minutes, that Skeeter and I had something to talk about with Wayne – privately. When she hesitated, not used to being ordered around by her children, I kissed her cheek, then whispered, “Please.”

She pulled my ear next to her mouth, “Be gentle. He's been through a lot. He doesn't have much hope to hold onto.” When I looked away, she grasped my chin with her hand, turned it toward her... she reiterated for me to be gentle.”

I half-assed nodded. She slightly tightened her grip... I knew she meant business. She rarely had to get my attention in such a manner – that was one of those rare moments... she knew it and I knew it. Doing damage control, I kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear, “Okay. I'll be nice. Mom, Wayne can be a hard head. Sometimes he has to be talked to in such a way to get his full attention... I don't want you to hear it if it comes to that, okay, please?”

I looked into mom's eyes. She wasn't buying my explanation and assertion, not for a second. Skeeter walked over. He looked at me then to mom. He mouthed, “What?”

Mom leaned into Skeeter's ear and whispered something that I could not understand or hear properly. Skeeter's eyes went wide as saucers. He whispered into mom's ear. She smiled. Oh fuck... they were definitely conspiring against me! Mom released my chin, left the room – my conspiracy theory confirmed!

To save the day, Skeeter whispered in my ear, “Wayne's full of shit.”

Conspiracy theory: shattered.

Whatever they shared hushed hushed worked. Mom left the room saying that she'd be back after awhile.

About 10 minutes after mom left dad entered, told us that he and Nathan would be in the waiting room and for us to take our time. After a brief hug he left the room leaving Skeeter, Wayne and I alone.

*-* Dad's POV *-*

Nathan looked at me, smiled, walked over and immediately offered his arms for a hug. Gladly, I accepted and returned my own hug to him.

The waiting room was surprisingly empty. Oh there were a few people in there but they were off in a corner some distance from us.

After sitting down, I said, “Did you have something to talk about, son?”

Nathan slightly fidgeted in his seat, looked around the room then turned to me and said, “Yeah. Uhm, can we go somewhere else... it's personal and private and well...”

“I know just the place.” I said understanding his need for privacy though I wasn't sure what was on his mind. We walked out of the building to the very small park located off a corner of the complex, and sat down at a picnic table. The grounds were clear of people save for the sidewalk on the outer perimeter of the compound.

Knowing Nathan the way I do, I waited for him to begin the conversation. After a couple of minutes, and after looking around and finding nobody anywhere close by he said, “Uhm, dad this is embarrassing...”

“Sometimes we have to talk about embarrassing things... can I ask if this has something to do with Linda and your intimacy?”

“Uhm, yeah...” Nathan said then hid his face by turning away. The boy was definitely upset. I definitely gathered that he needed to talk but his shame was overwhelming to him.

“Nathan, we can talk about anything. I may not have the answers but I can probably help you find an answer that works for you. That and when we have problem... did you know that by sharing a problem then it's cut in half?”

That said Nathan turned around and regarded me very carefully. That was one of those moments where a metaphorical tide could turn either way... what I could say could very well have distanced us for his entire life, or if he would permit it could be a another turning point in our relationship. And it could and would likely affect his entire future. That's a hard place for a parent to be … sometimes we just wing it with what we feel in our heart.

Once again he looked around. Very quietly he said, “Linda said that I'm not a man.” Nathan shook violently for a second or two, lowered his head and found a blade of grass to stare at.

I put my arm around his shoulders, “Why would she say such a thing? What brought that up?”

Nathan, once again looked around to see if anybody was close by. That was the moment of truth. Assured nobody was around, I looked too, he scooted in close, took my arm in his then with tears forming in his eyes said, “Dad, I, oh geez this is so embarrassing... uhm... well, I mean... damn it, I shot my stuff too fast... and well, you know, I mean, well... uhm, dad, I went soft. But that ain't all of it.”

I paternally patted his back. I knew the situation well. Been there done that. I said, “It happens. Nathan, just because we shoot too early and then rapidly deflate does not mean we're not a man. It simply means we got really, really excited and ejaculated... it really shouldn't be a big deal unless we make it a big deal.”

“It's a big deal dad, you don't understand...”

“Help me understand then...” I inquired very delicately, hoping to draw the real issue out of him so that he could move on and enjoy his sexuality even though I was a bit concerned that this had happened so early in his life. I was concerned the incident could and would have severe detrimental consequences for the rest of his life if the issue wasn't handled correctly.

Nathan, his face tear filled, turned around and checked to see if anyone was around. He was afraid and he was so very ashamed. I said, “Come on; let's take a walk. Sometimes I can talk about troubling things much much better that way.”

Nathan hesitated but decided for himself that my idea just might work. He stood then took my hand, helped me up (you know that kid thought I was old and decrepit already at my youthful age … oh well it made him feel useful so I gave in without a word) and then, together, we took off slowly walking down the sidewalk. After maybe 50 paces Nathan squeezed my hand, “Dad, I don't know how to say this any other way... she, uhm, she wanted me to, uhm, you know, errrm eat her pussy, I mean vagina... sorry I learned the correct name in health class...”

“I know what pussy means. The term vagina is the correct word... but anyway...”

“Okay, she uhm, she wanted me to lick her vagina. Uhm, I'd never thought of doing something like that before... here's where it gets gross dad... it made me sick... I barfed... the smell made me sick. I told you this is embarrassing.”

I stole a moment to gather my thoughts. That didn't work so I just said, “Nathan that does not define you as a man. Many people, myself included... find the smell repulsive. Let me ask you a question, okay?”

Nathan nodded and looked into my eyes... he needed an answer... that was the moment of no return. He was listening with both ears open. He needed reassurance, and he needed to know that he was okay.

Carefully I asked, “Did you try to do other things to bring her to her pleasure moment, to her orgasm?”

“Yeah, I started to finger her but she didn't give me a chance. Dad she pushed my head inside... it was more than I could take... and well, I barfed all over her and the bed... shit... sorry dad.”

At first, I had to steal myself away from the thought of rape but then said the same thing in a more evasive way, “Nathan that was wrong of her to do. She had no right to force you into a situation that you were uncomfortable with and unwilling to do. You were repulsed. Your body violently reacted at being made to do something against its will. If that's what she means about you not being a man then I'm afraid she's very misguided.”

“Yeah... but I've heard that other guys do it and it makes their girlfriends happy.”

“Nathan... son, you are Nathan. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you being you. So what you can't orally stimulate a girl to orgasm... it certainly has nothing to do with you being a young man. And you are a young man. You are not fully grown up. What I see though is that you're growing into a very caring and sensitive person. Both of these are mandatory assets of manhood. Nathan, don't let this screw up your life. I'm sure you can please your sexual partner in other ways. And, as far as premature ejaculation... it happens. As long as it doesn't happen all the time in every situation or circumstance there is no real problem. Have you had problems with this before? Does it happen often? I only ask because if it does then you might want to talk to your doctor about it.”

“No, it's the first time... well not really... before she was just as ready to go when I was. I couldn't stop this time, dad.”

“I know how it is. I've been there done that. It happens. It sounds like to me that Linda needs to grow up herself and not place demands on her partner. That's serious business Nathan.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, I don't think I love her... our sex feels good but no I don't love her.”

“Nathan, just remember one thing if you remember nothing else...”

Nathan looked into my eyes. Sheesh, this was one of those moments – again! The moment of truth had arrived. I added, “Not all girls and women act like Linda.”

Nathan, with all the seriousness of a 12 year old could bring together in that moment in time, said, “I didn't think so.”

I offered, “Nathan, may I suggest that you and any girlfriends not become sexually active until you know each other. You'll develop a 6th sense about who will or can and who will not be a partner in all ways. There are, of course, tradeoffs but the bottom line is respect and working together to make a life changing event work. You'll learn how to compromise and negotiate both your needs and her needs.”

Nathan put his arm around my waist, squeezed firmly, and then looked into my eyes. His eyes were dry, soft and gentle, and not filled with pain. Thank you God.

We walked back to the waiting room, sat down and no sooner had we grabbed magazines to read to pass away the time than Joey and Skeeter entered.

*-* Joey's POV *-*

For the next hour we convinced Wayne that he was full of shit, that we would indeed kill his desire to die with our love, understanding and support for as long as it took. Skeeter told Wayne of his relocation to where, why he relocated, how loved he felt being with his new family and the farm and the animals, his brothers and sister including Stacy and her antics, how they drew strength from one another, how and why his new dad was both supportive and hard on his children.

Together we told Wayne of our relationship, that we were not only lovers but soul mates, and of our plans to live out our lives together as a couple if it was meant to happen. Wayne took it all in, nodding now and again, shaking his head now and again, shrugging his shoulders now and again at this and that. We knew when we got too close to what his life was all about now that his mother had been arrested and in jail and that she'd likely spend the rest of her life there that it was time to back up.

That was sad. I hadn't yet processed through his loss of his mother and soon found tears were flowing freely from my eyes, as were Wayne's. Skeeter… He had this look of determination in his. I couldn't read him. He was concocting some scheme or something – I knew it for certain.

Mom, a short time later, entered with a nurses' aide. The aide was carrying two pails of water. I knew what those pails of water meant. Wayne became agitated at seeing them. His demeanor changed, and it changed radically. He covered his trachea and hissed, “Get the fuck out of here.”

Shocked with his response, I walked to the nurses' aide and mom, “You guys need to leave. We need to talk some sense of respect into that boy.”

That time mom acquiesced her parental admonishment. She urged the nurses' aide to leave the pails of water and to follow her out of the room. When mom and the aide exited the room I went to Wayne while Skeeter closed the door, “These people are trying to help you, you fuckwit. Stop being such a cock sucking asshole. You ain't gonna fuckin die so stop fucking feeling sorry for your fucking self.”

To Skeeter I said grinning then looked at Wayne lying there in a semblance of shock, “Wayne IS getting a bath!”

With that said Skeeter and I did indeed give Wayne a bath. He acquiesced his protests to someone who actually gave a fuck about his childish antics. We washed his hair which was matted down with his natural oils, dirt and filth from not being washed in a very long time, loose hair, and with the sheen product he'd always used to make his hair look just right. I scrubbed his hair with love, caring, and an aggression that conveyed same. Once it was rinsed thoroughly, Skeeter and I changed places. I washed his legs while Skeeter performed same to his chest and torso.

Drawing my expertise, I gently and carefully but thoroughly washed Wayne's man glands, his perineum and then reached in as far as I could to clean his anal area and buttocks. I then applied medicated antibiotic salve to the slit of his penis. Unable to stop myself, caught up in the moment, I reached down where I quickly kissed the top of his penis. Skeeter saw me do that... he quickly, gently kissed my lips.

When we covered Wayne with a clean sheet I went looking through drawers for a manicure set. Finally, in the back corner of the bottom drawer I found what I'd been looking for. Deftly, I trimmed Wayne's finger and toe nails to their proper aesthetic lengths.

Skeeter fetched the nurse. The nurse said that mom had been called away to the Emergency Room, but would be available if we needed her. We didn't need mom but we needed the nurse to assist rolling Wayne onto his side so we could wash his back. That accomplished, we began massaging his tired and wasted muscles with our strong hands. Had it not been for the tracheal tube I was sure he would have been cooing his approvals and good feelings.

After finishing his bath, we sat down and talked more to Wayne about me and Skeeter's relationship, answering all questions he had which were few. He first took Skeeter's then my hands in his, squeezed them firmly and then nodded his understanding and approval. His approval was written in his eyes... I'd learned long ago to read his facial expressions and body language.

An hour or two later mom returned, said that she would be going to surgery, that dad would pick us up, and that she'd be home by 9pm barring any further patient needs. After she left, I said to Wayne, “You stop giving the nurses a bunch of fucking shit or we'll kick your ass.”

He closed his trachea tube and barely above a whisper said, “Fuck you.” But he smiled nonetheless. We never heard of him giving them a hard time ever again.

The nurse said, “I'm sorry to push your friends out but you should get some rest. They can come back another time.” She then gave him an injection of medicine in the IV running into his arm. He faded off to sleep. After straightening his covers Nathan and I went to the waiting room where we found dad and Nathan quietly talking.

Nathan looked up, wiggled his eyebrows up and down and then stood. Together he and dad walked to us.

I said, “Sorry to bother you guys. They gave Wayne some medicine which put him out.”

Dad said, “No bother... we were just finishing up talking about nothing while waiting for you. I've got an idea: mom's working late so how about we go finding something good to eat?”

…

After picking Derrick up, we stopped in at Devon Seafood Grill and ate our hearts out. I had swordfish and sweet potato corn hash. Skeeter had a deep fried char crusted Aha Tuna with Yukon roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus, foyot sauce. Dad had Chipotle grilled chicken enchiladas with sweet corn jalapenos, corn black bean relish, jicama-lime salad and Pico de gallo. Derrick ordered the seared scallops with meyer ranch short ribs with pappardelle pasta, shiitake mushrooms, leeks, spinach and marsala.

For dessert we each ordered an orange cream chocolate tart.

By the time the last bite was consumed we were waddling around like pregnant women.

Before we left dad ordered for mom a grilled artichokes dish. It was huge, and oh it smelled so good all the way home. Dad said to stay out of it... I might have argued with him had we still been the least bit hungry... but we weren't hungry, not in the least.

Arriving home, Skeeter, Nathan, Derrick and I retired to our rooms to change out of our clothes. Skeeter hadn't brought any running shorts so I gave him a pair of mine to wear for as long as he needed them. I stripped down to my skin. Little Joey was in no mood to play so I put on a pair of baby blue colored boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt.

We headed into the living room. Dad was flipping channels. He found a John Wayne marathon on The Movie Channel. Now, I wasn't a big sap for Westerns but nonetheless we sat down as a family and got engrossed. Mom arrived home at about 10pm. Dad heated up and prepared her meal. She ate about half of it and put the rest in the refrigerator to keep for a later opportunity. Once again, dad admonished us to stay out of it. Still full, we didn't argue.

The last movie we were going to watch ended at 11:30. We were all tired from the busy day 'at the office' so to speak so we headed off to our respective beds. Nathan joined me and Skeeter in our bed. Skeeter and I had no plans to be intimate... our stomachs still rebelling from the huge meal and dessert from earlier in the evening.

We solo jacked off to successful conclusions all the while giving Nathan encouragements, congratulations, and support. Skeeter was impressed with the volume of Nathan's ejaculate, giving him “atta boy's” and “what a man” supports, as did I. Nathan scooped a finger full of jizz from both my and Skeeter's bellies and then without hesitation happily lapped it up and swallowed.

He lingered a bit when we shared kisses good night.

I wondered about Nathan as I fell off to sleep listening to the sounds of their gentle snoring and other evidences indicating they were off in slumber land.

*** To be continued

Revised March 15, 2012

My contact information is Joe Writer Man. My parent website is Joe Writer Man Stories. Come visit sometime.