DISCLAIMER:
M/M, m/m, M/m
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This story contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts of boys and men discovering their sexuality. It contains graphic scenes of sex between consenting underage boys, consenting adult males and boys with adult males (eventually). If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18, do not read it.
If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you find the topic distasteful, then please stop reading now. You have been warned.
This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to re-post them at your own site, please contact the author for permission.
Copyright 2016 WSC, all rights reserved.
A copy of the story has been assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of its submission agreement. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to enderwiggin61@outlook.com
All flames will be politely ignored.
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Author's Note:
I started writing this story, never intending it to grow into what it has become. It seems to have taken on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy.
Also, if you are enjoying this story, my first story can be found here:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/moments
We'd just climbed into bed and pulled up the covers when there was light rapping on the door. The door cracked open and T.J. stuck his head inside and asked, "Can I come in now?"
"Get in here, munchkin," I said as I lifted the covers for him to crawl in. There was no hiding his already stiff cocklet as he bounded across the room, climbed into the bed with us and then crawled over me to settle in between the two of us.
"Now what?" he asked, bubbling over with excitement and rubbing his hands together.
"Well, the first thing you need to know is you have us at a bit of a disadvantage since you can get into our minds and we can't do the same with you. So, we don't know what you may or may not want to happen. We won't do anything you don't ask for," I answered.
"We also won't do anything that will hurt you in any way," Tom added.
"So, if I want you suck my dick, I have to ask you to do it, and you'd really do it? But if I wanted you to stick your dick in my butt, you wouldn't do that `cause it'll hurt me, right?"
"Exactly, T.J," I answered.
"What can I do to you guys?"
"Whatever you want," Tom answered. "If you just want to explore our bodies, that's fine."
"And if you decide you want to kiss us or more, that's fine, too."
"Really? I can kiss you, like, on the lips, instead of just your forehead or cheek? You mean like this?" he asked as he crawled on top of Tom and planted his lips on Tom's. Tom gently held T.J.'s head in place as the boy orally assaulted his mouth, both of them moaning in desire. T.J.'s little pecker was buried in Tom's gut and, thanks to the positioning of the boy's legs, Tom's engorged cock was protruding obscenely from between T.J.'s thighs and grazing his sweet ass. After they broke for air, T.J. moved down Tom's body and began to lick at his quarter-sized nipples, randomly moving from one to the other. When he tired of stimulating Tom's nipples, he slid further down and grasped Tom's erection in both hands before kissing his exposed glans.
"Damn, Pops, I knew your dick was big, but it looks even bigger when I'm this close to it. I really like that you trimmed your hair. It let's us all see more of you and that's cool." T.J. then released Tom's phallus and moved his hands even lower to his testicles. "WOW! You even shaved your nuts. That's fuckin' hot," he added just before he dove in and began licking the hairless sack. Tom was moments away from exploding when T.J. pulled his head back from between Tom's thighs and commented, "Your balls are really big, too. I wonder if I'll ever get that big."
"Anything's possible, T.J.," I answered for Tom since he was unable to complete a coherent sentence at that particular moment.
"Don't worry, Dad, I ain't forgot you," he exhaled as he moved from Tom to me, where he repeated his assault on my body. When his lips met mine for the first time, I felt his tongue slip inside my mouth and I relished the taste. When his small hands wrapped themselves around my leaking cock, I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. "What's that comin' outta your dick? That ain't piss, is it?" he asked as looked up to my face.
"No, T.J., that's called pre-cum. It's kind of a lubricant that all guys produce when they get excited."
"I don't."
"You will, don't worry."
"What's it taste like? It won't make me sick, will it?"
"It really doesn't have much taste to it and no, it won't make you sick." That was all he needed to know before he returned his attention to my cock and lapped up the clear fluid dripping off my glans. After seeing I was telling the truth about it having no real flavor to it, he quickly took my head into his mouth and swirled his tongue all around it. He toyed with me for a few minutes before he let my head slip from his mouth and moved on to my balls, coating the length of my cock with his saliva along the way. Since I began sharing the bed with Tom, I'd discovered that I really liked having my balls licked and T.J. proved to be quite adept at it, gently taking each tender orb into his mouth and slathering it with love. When he finished between my legs, he knelt between us, pulled our heads together and we all kissed at the same time, tongues darting from mouth to mouth.
"I love both your dicks," T.J. whispered, "but yours is just too big for my mouth, Pops. Someday, when I'm older and my mouth is bigger, I'll show you how much I love yours, too."
"That's okay, buddy. Your dad will take care of me."
"But I gotta know, do you really stick your dick in Dad's ass and screw him `cause I'd think it hurts him like hell?" After a quick nod from Tom, T.J. added, "Can I watch you two do it?"
"If that's what you want, sure," I answered. As the big guy leaned over to the nightstand to retrieve the lube, T.J. knelt over my chest, giving me my first real up close and extremely personal look at his stiff young member. It was absolutely beautiful with his helmet still enshrouded by his foreskin. I looked up into his eyes and quietly asked, "May I suck it, T.J.?" With a quick nod and lustful grin, he leaned forward and brushed my lips with his stiffness. I separated my lips just far enough to allow the turgid member to slip inside my mouth. His sweet pecker tasted divine and while it felt similar to Joey's, it also felt different because of his foreskin. I used my tongue in inventive ways and managed to slip his foreskin back and expose his glans to my ministrations. T.J. closed his eyes and reveled in the moment, moaning deeply with contentment. Not content to suck on just his sweet morsel, I shifted my position slightly so I could envelop his immature testicles with my mouth also.
In less than a minute, I could feel his cocklet twitching in my mouth as he groaned and quivered uncontrollably while he orgasmed. Bringing this young lad to his peak was heavenly. As he slowly came down from his sexual high, he muttered, "Ohmigod, Dad, that was fuckin' awesome."
"Are you ready to see how we make love?"
"Oh, yeah, you have no idea how ready."
"Why don't you lay down, Tom?" I asked. "I like it better when I'm on top." Tom assumed the position and handed me the tube of lube. I set it aside for a minute because I wanted his cock in my mouth first. I knelt over his waist and slowly enveloped his mushroom head with my lips before gently swallowing his complete length. T.J., who was now kneeling on the other side of Tom, watched intently and his eyes bugged wide open when my nose made contact with Tom's trimmed pubic mound.
"Holy crap, Dad, how the hell can you do that?"
I slowly removed Tom's cock from my mouth and answered with a smile, "Practice."
"Yeah, I bet," he giggled.
"Would you like to help me get ready for Pops?" I asked T.J.
"Sure, what do you want me to do?"
"Well, while I suck on Pops' dick to get it nice and slick, why don't you take the lube and start working on my hole to help loosen it up?" T.J. grabbed the tube as he moved behind my ass that was sticking up in the air. I went back to work on Tom while the young lad drizzled lube in my crack and started to poke and prod around my hole with his fingers. He soon had two fingers buried as deeply as he could and I could feel him wiggle them around inside my ass.
"Like this?" he asked. "Am I doing it right?" With a mouth full of Tom, all I could do was nod and moan in delight at his assault. He kept working his two fingers in and out of my ass when I suddenly felt empty as he pulled them back out. I practically whimpered at the loss before I felt him spread my cheeks as wide as he could, trying to stick his dick inside me. Due to his lack of length, he couldn't penetrate me very deeply, but I was experiencing a mental overload as he did his best to fuck me, grunting with delight as he did. "Ah, shit, that feels good," T.J. mumbled through his clenched jaws.
As I continued my oral assault on Tom, I could see his balls starting to pull up and knew he was close to losing complete control. I let him slip from my mouth and announced, "Okay, T.J., time to change things around before Pops loses it. Why don't you hold his dick and help guide it inside me?" He eagerly slid out of my ass and moved between Tom's widespread legs so he could watch closely as I knelt over Tom's raging hard-on and began to lower myself. When I felt his mushroom make contact with my hole, I paused for a moment, steeling myself for the impalement to come. When I looked down, I could see T.J.'s hands steadily holding the staff below me. When I was ready to continue, I relaxed as much as possible before continuing to lower my body and allowing my ass to swallow him completely. T.J. retained his grip on Tom until I settled my ass on his thighs.
"Wow! That's freakin' cool. I can't believe you aren't feeling some serious pain right now," T.J. enthused as he moved from behind us to beside us. When he saw the grimace on my face, he inhaled deeply and added, "Oh, shit, I guess it does hurt."
"Just a little bit, T.J. It'll start to feel a lot better in just a minute."
"I don't believe you, Dad."
"Oh, trust me it will. I can show you what it feels like if you want."
"Oh, no you don't! You ain't sticking your dick up my ass."
"You're right, I'm not, but I could use my finger like you did for me. That would be about the same."
"Really!? I guess that wouldn't be too bad. Let's do it!"
"Why don't you straddle Pops' chest and lean over his head. Hand me the lube before you do." I sat still as T.J. moved around and got into position over Tom's face after giving me the tube. I knew my suggestion would place T.J.'s still hard member in Tom's face and I assumed he would take advantage of the situation. He did not disappoint us as I heard T.J. inhale deeply when Tom swallowed the turgid member well before my slicked-up finger made contact with T.J.'s snug anal sphincter. The young lad started rocking his hips slightly as he began to fuck his Pops' mouth and when he pulled back one time, I held my finger in position and watched as it slid smoothly into his hole. T.J. jumped a bit at the invasion but continued his rocking motion, alternately sliding his cocklet into Tom's mouth, then taking my finger deep into his ass as he moved back and forth.
When T.J. had settled into a smooth rhythm, I finally started rocking my hips, clenching my sphincter tightly around Tom's cock as I proceeded to get my ass fucked. I was concentrating more on T.J. and what he was feeling than I was on myself as I was in no hurry to end this tryst. I started to wiggle my finger inside him and quickly found his young and yet to develop prostate. I tried to bump that little nodule every time T.J. moved backward and my finger drove deep into him. In just a few minutes, I could feel T.J.'s sphincter clamping my finger tightly as he came for the second time. When he finally stopped humping Tom's face, I gently removed my finger from his ass. He just kind of hovered and wavered over Tom's chest, recovering, as I continued to bob up and down on Tom's cock.
When T.J. had regained his composure and strength, he carefully stood up and turned around to face me before settling back down on Tom's chest, a very wide smile gracing his cherubic face.
"You doin' okay?" I asked.
"I'm great, Dad," he answered. "I don't think I've ever had this much fun."
"Hey, buddy," Tom grunted, "while you got a cute ass and I don't mind it being in my face, can you slide down just a little bit? It's kinda hard to breathe under here."
"Oops, sorry, Pops," he giggled. The young lad moved closer to me then asked, "That better?"
"Much, thanks," Tom replied as he sucked in a lungful of fresh air.
T.J. then reached over to me and wrapped both hands around my lonely, dripping cock. His light touch sent jolts of electricity rushing throughout my body. "I wanna watch you come, Dad," he whispered as he continued to stroke me. I could only nod in acknowledgment as my voice had abandoned me. I reached over to T.J., grasped his still rigid pecker between my thumb and forefinger and began to idly stroke him in return.
After a few more minutes, amid the grunts of lust and groans of pleasure emanating from all three of us, T.J.'s body suddenly went completely rigid and his cocklet started to dance violently in my grip. Feeling his young body succumb to his orgasm so intensely forced me over the edge. I'd held off as long as possible and when I finally allowed myself to let go, I coated T.J.'s chest and belly with my semen. As that was happening, my sphincter's rapid clamping on Tom's cock elicited the same reaction from him. I felt his cock enlarge slightly as each volley of his spunk coated my insides.
With our sexual appetites sated, a completely spent T.J. fell into me. I hugged him tightly and whispered, "We love you," into T.J.'s ear. Our hug merely spread my semen over both of us and I suggested a shower was called for and the other two readily agreed. Tom and I headed to the bathroom and T.J. headed for the door.
"Where you goin, T.J?" Tom asked.
"To take a shower, like Dad said."
"Not in your own shower, silly boy, you'll wake up Mike and Andy. Get your ass in here," I said.
"I get to take a shower with you, too? Sweet, dads."
We climbed in the shower together and proceeded to clean each other. A lot of soap got used and we were all pretty well slicked up with suds from head to toe. T.J. made it his personal mission to ensure our penises were properly cleaned and we allowed him to do so as we sat on the bench together and he stroked and fondled them. Even after our recent activities, he knew just what to do and both of us were soon hard again. As for the young lad, himself, I'm not too sure he ever lost his erection and he was as stiff as could be. I started to play with his delicate marble-sized testicles while Tom played with his stiff penis.
As we continued to play in the shower, T.J. leaned over and started to lick Tom's meat from base to tip, lingering over his mushroom head and swirling his tongue all around it until Tom moaned, "Watch out, T.J., I'm going to come again." He lifted his head just in time to witness Tom get off two or three shots of milky-colored semen.
"Fuckin' cool, Pops," T.J. enthused. Then, to our surprise he leaned over and lapped the emission off Tom's belly and deflating mushroom head. "That ain't too bad," he said. "What does yours taste like, Dad?"
"About the same, I'd guess."
"Let's find out," he grinned as he leaned over and repeated the process on my own cock. The only difference was he actually took about half my hardness into his mouth. All too soon, I could feel things starting to happen in my balls and despite warning him of my impending orgasm, T.J. refused to pull his mouth off me. I lobbed four shots of spunk into his mouth and we watched in fascination as he swallowed them all. "Yeah, you're right, Dad, it's about the same, tasty," he commented with a wide smile.
With all three of us finally cleaned up, outside and inside, we turned off the shower and stepped out to dry off. We each helped dry the backs of someone else and when we were ready, we headed to bed. As we walked back across the bedroom, T.J. asked, "Can I sleep with you guys tonight? Please?"
Tom and I exchanged a quick glance and he answered, "Sure thing, T.J." We climbed back into bed and, with T.J. taking the middle, curled up together for a good night's sleep.
As we traded kisses and goodnights, T.J. said, "I love both of you, more than I've ever loved anybody else. And thanks for tonight. I really enjoyed it and can't wait for us to be able to do it again."
"We love you, too, buddy," Tom replied.
"We'll be ready when you are, T.J," I added.
"How `bout right now?" he giggled.
"Except for right now," I answered. "I think we all need to get some sleep."
"I know, I was just teasin' ya', Dads. I know you old farts can't keep up with us young dudes."
"Careful there, young man, you could end up sleeping outside with the coyotes," I warned him.
He quickly flipped over to face Tom and said, "Night, Dads, love you tons." And with that final comment, we all drifted off into a restful night's sleep.
Until the damn alarm announced the beginning of a new day and a new week as it went off at six in the morning and. I crawled out of bed and woke T.J. so he could come with me. We meandered to the bathroom to relieve our bladders and then headed to the other side of the house to wake the others.
As we passed by the front door, T.J. whispered, "I really had a lot of fun with you and Pops last night. I hope you guys had fun, too."
"I think it's pretty obvious we did, T.J.," I replied as I stopped, knelt beside him and took his hands in mine. As I looked into his eyes, I added, "We really do love all of you, and not just because we have a very special place in our hearts and minds for boys. We love you just for being who you are, for willingly accepting each other as brothers, accepting us as your dads and for becoming a part of our new lives together. Even if you decided you don't want to repeat what happened between us last night, we'd still love you."
Tears were starting to form in T.J.'s eyes as he croaked, "I know, Dad. I love you, too. And Pops and my new brothers. I never knew my real dad and I don't want to. As far as I'm concerned, you and Pops are my real dads, and you always have been. It just took some time for us to find each other."
I pulled T.J. into my arms and said, "And you've always been our son, T.J. You always will be." We took a moment to compose ourselves before we moved on. When we reached the twins bedroom, I suggested T.J. wait outside and he agreed that was probably a good idea.
I stepped into their room to find the regular tangle of bodies and limbs strewn across the bed. I tickled somebody's foot and discovered it was attached to Logan when he sat up and said, "Hey, what's the big idea?"
"Time to move your skinny butt. Get these other two lumps moving, would you? Breakfast shortly."
"Yeah, okay, Max. Good mornin' to you, too," he added sarcastically.
I left the room, collected T.J. and we headed on down the hall. After we entered the room, T.J. scampered on across the room and carefully crawled into the bed with Mike and Andy. Once he was curled up and faking sleep, I shook Mike to wake him up. "C'mon, sleepyhead, time to move. Get your brothers goin', okay?"
"Yeah, Dad, I hear ya'. Be out in a few for breakfast." As I turned to leave, I could hear him waking the other two. With luck, neither Mike or Andy would realize T.J. hadn't been there all night.
I returned to our bedroom to get Tom moving in the right direction. As I was shaking my teddy bear, there was a pretty serious conversation happening on the other side of the house.
"Come on, you faker. I know you ain't asleep," Mike grumbled.
I opened my eyes and stretched while my brain swirled with wild stories to tell. "What're you talkin' `bout," I asked through a fake yawn.
"I know you didn't sleep with us last night, you turd. Where the hell were you?"
"What!?" I asked indignantly. "I was too here."
"No, you weren't. Quit lyin' to me, dammit. I had to go pee in the middle of night and when I went to the bathroom, you weren't here. Now, where the hell did you go? You go jump in bed with Alex, Joey and Logan so you could play around with some older boys?"
"Yeah, where'd ya' go, T.J.?" Andy asked.
I threw up my hands in surrender and said, "Okay, okay, I slept with Dad and Pops."
"What!?" Andy yelled.
"Why'd you do that?" Mike asked.
"I had a bad dream and it scared me. I didn't want to bother you guys, so I asked Dad if I could sleep with them? You happy, butthead?"
"What kind of dream," Andy quizzed me.
"You gotta promise not to tell the dads about it. They'd freak out," I whispered conspiratorially as I made shit up on the fly. After they both agreed to keep the secret, I continued. "I dreamed my real dad somehow found out about me and he came to take me away with him."
"What's so scary `bout that," Mike asked.
"Yeah, if my real dad came back, I'd probably want to go with him," Andy added.
"Look, guys, I don't know my real dad. Mom told me she don't know who he is. For all I know, he's a freakin' ax murderer or somethin'. And he was gonna make me move to Idaho. Who the hell wants to live in stupid Idaho. Not me."
"And you didn't tell `em what the dream was about?" Mike asked.
"No, I just told Dad it was scary, but I didn't really `member it. He said I could sleep with them if it would make me feel better, so I did."
"So why the fake act?" Mike pushed.
"I didn't want you guys thinkin' I'm some sorta baby for gettin' scared `bout a stupid dream."
"It's okay, T.J.," Andy responded. "We all have bad dreams sometimes. Most of mine have Russ in `em. That's when I curl up real tight with one of you guys. Holdin' you tight makes me feel safe again and the dream goes away."
"Look, sorry, I just needed Dad and Pops, okay? C'mon, we better get movin'," I said as I crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. Mike and Andy used the toilet, then followed me and washed their faces. Before we left our room to head to the kitchen, they pulled me into a hug.
"Sorry for bein' a jerk, bro," Mike said during the hug. "I was just worried `bout you, okay?"
"It's okay, bro'," I answered. "Thanks." We finally broke our hug and headed out to join the others for breakfast.
Finally, T.J., Mike and Andy joined the other three at the bar for cereal and toast. "Wow, boys, I was about to send out a search party for you. I was afraid you got lost this morning."
"Oh, we're fine. They just wanted to know why I didn't sleep with them last night."
Tom and I stiffened with fear while the other three boys spun their heads in curiosity, but I asked the expected question anyway. "And what did you tell them?"
"Same thing I told you last night when I snuck in your room, I had a bad dream that scared me," T.J. answered with a sly wink and a grin.
I breathed a sigh of relief at the young man's quick thinking and continued the storyline he'd created. "You feel better about it this morning?"
"Yeah, and thanks for lettin' me stay with you. I still don't remember the stupid dream, though," he answered with another wink to Mike and Andy.
"That's probably a good thing," Tom responded.
"Yeah, I think so, too," T.J. agreed.
As each boy finished his breakfast, he rinsed his bowl and dropped it in the dishwasher before returning to his room to get dressed and ready for school. When all of them were ready to roll, Tom and I pulled on some sweats and I drove them out to the bus shelter. When I got back to the house, I found Tom in the living room with a note pad on his lap and he was sucking on the end of a pen.
"Whatcha' doin'?" I asked as I hung up my jacket.
"Well, if I'm gonna have an office later this week, I thought I probably ought to get a list made of things I need to get and do before I can get back to work. This sittin' around doin' nothin' is startin' to drive me nuts."
"Wow! What a brilliant deduction, Sherlock. What have you got so far?"
"Well, I need to get a business license and get setup with the Department of Revenue. I also need to find out if I need some sort of special license or certification to do private investigations in the state. Then I have to get your regular supplies for an office. You know, pens, pencils, files, a computer, that kind of shit."
"You may want to add a desk lamp to your list, too. We have the phone for your office, already, so you don't need that. Make sure you include a Cat6 cable on your list to connect your computer to the network."
"Oh, I figured I'd just connect to the Wi-Fi."
"You can do that if you want, but it'll be much faster if you're wired in. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Oh, and don't forget to get some business cards. You can have them done at Kinko's or just buy card stock and we can print them here."
"Good idea, babe. I'll let Kinko's print `em, though, I think they'll look better. Might as well get some printed up for Dylan while I'm at it, don't you think."
"Yeah, that sounds good. What about your cell phone? You okay with it or you want a new one?"
"Nah, it's good for now. Once Dylan's working with me, we may want to have the same phones, though, so we won't have any problems sharing information, so we'll deal with that later."
"Anything else you can think of?"
"Not at the moment. Not for the new job, anyway."
"I think you've forgotten one very important piece of equipment every private investigator should have in his arsenal."
"Oh? What's that?"
"A snappy hat," I laughed.
"If you think I'm gonna wear a freakin' fedora on the job, you are crazy."
"All the real P.I.s have them, Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe, even old Sherlock himself."
"Well, you can just forget that nonsense `cause it ain't gonna happen." When I finally quit laughing at the image of Tom wearing a fedora, he added, "I do have an unrelated thing I wanted to ask about, though."
"What's that?"
"Last night. Are you really cool with everything that happened with T.J.?"
"Yeah, I think I am. No, I know I am. I've told you how much I wanted to do things like that with my dad and never got the opportunity. If T.J. hadn't asked me about joining us, I'd have never thought to ask him because up until just the other night, he'd never said or really done anything that led me to believe he'd even considered it. And once he did ask, all I could think was this; how could tell him no when we didn't tell the twins no?"
"I was hoping you'd say that. `Cause I gotta tell ya', while I love our time in bed together and wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China, I have never been more turned on than I was last night."
"Now, I've got a question for you, big guy. What will we do if the twins and T.J. want to join us, all at the same time?"
"My answer to that is `Fuck yeah. Bring it on'."
I snorted at Tom's eagerness and said, "I figured as much."
"Oh, I suppose you don't want all three at the same time, do ya'?" he asked sarcastically.
"I never said that, just wasn't sure how we should respond. I think T.J. will try to keep our time together from Joey and Alex, but I'd say the chances are slim he'll be able to do so. I just hope they don't ask for it before Logan moves back home with his dad."
"Yeah, that would be a problem we don't need." The drive sensor went off and Tom asked, "You expectin' someone this morning?"
"I'm hoping it's John and his guys showing up to work on the other bedroom."
"Oh, man, I'd forgotten that could happen today. Well, I'm gonna let you deal with them while I go to the study and make some phone calls about licensing and shit."
"Good luck, bubba. Have fun dealin' with the state," I laughed as he turned the corner to the study.
I headed to the garage, opened the door and punched the button to open the garage door for John. My timing was spot-on as his truck pulled onto the driveway just as the door stopped moving. As he and his guys got out of the truck I called out, "Mornin', John. We were hoping to see you today."
"And look at that, all your hopes have come true," he cracked.
"Well, not all of them, but one for sure. C'mon in. I'll stay out of your way, but when you have a few minutes, John, I need to talk to you about something," I added before returning to the living room. As I sat down and reached for my book to kill some time, the phone rang.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Good morning, is this Max Sanders?"
"It is, may I ask who's calling, please?"
"Mr. Sanders, my name is Hank Madonia and I work for the Journal-Register. I apologize for intruding on your Monday morning, but I was really hoping you be willing to talk to me."
"And just why would I want to do that, Mr. Madonia? What could I possibly tell you that you and your cohorts don't already know?"
"Well, sir, I'm sure you know that your name appeared in our paper last week in an article concerning certain events at a local church."
"Of course, I know that. And I really must say thank you for printing my name in your rag without my permission," I added with some vehemence. "I guess I should be happy you refrained from printing my unlisted phone number you people obtained by rather devious means. Is that how you people really operate down there?"
"I apologize for that, Mr. Sanders, but that decision was made way above my pay grade. And I'd like to try and make it up to you."
"And how do you propose to that?"
"Well, if it's not too inconvenient or bothersome, I'd like to sit down with you and get your story. There's a movement going on by certain members at the church that is really disturbing to me. They are trying to discredit your account of the events in question. I would like to be able to present your story, using your own words, in an effort to shut down that movement and see that the people who were arrested receive their just punishments."
I had known that such a thing could be happening, but I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut to hear it actually was. I inhaled deeply and collected my thoughts before answering. "Okay, Mr. Madonia, here's what I'll agree to; I'll give you two hours to ask any questions you'd like. Keep in mind, I may decline to answer some of them. I will only allow this interview to take place in my home and with my fiancé present. You will be allowed to record the interview, so you can't misuse, misquote or take anything I say out of context. If you'd like to bring one person with you to even up the sides and ask questions, you can do that, too."
"That's very kind of you Mr. Sanders and I accept those conditions. When would be a convenient time for me to come out? I'm available any time."
"I guess that all depends on when you'd like your story to be in the paper."
"I'd love to have it for tomorrow morning, but if that's not possible, as soon as we can after that."
"If you came out this afternoon about one, would that work for you?"
"That would be perfect, sir. I'll be there."
"I have one more condition before I'll talk to you. I want to read the story you write before it's published in the paper."
"Oh, sir, I can't agree to that. We never allow people outside the paper to read our stories before they're published."
"Then you don't get the interview. Simple as that. Goodbye."
"Wait! Please, Mr. Sanders, I really want you to be able to tell your story. Let me talk to my editor and see what he says. If he agrees to all your conditions, I'll be there at one."
"Fine. This is the only chance you get, Mr. Madonia. If you're not here then, you can forget it."
"Thank you, Mr. Sanders. I hope to see you this afternoon."
After hanging up the phone, I sat there and tried to figure out why I agreed to this insanity. I finally realized that I wanted the truth to be told regardless of the personal costs. And I was going to be damned if I was gonna give that fuckin' church the chance to twist the story to appease their own feelings, not when their members had hurt so many kids over such a long period of time. With that argument settled in my mind, I picked up my book to continue reading. About thirty minutes later, John finally came in and took a seat.
"Okay, those two are busy for a while, what'd you want to talk to me about?"
"It's a bad news, good news kinda thing, John."
"Oh, geez, here we go," he muttered with resignation in his voice.
"You're not gonna be building a new house for our parents."
"What!? Why not? I've already got bids on everything and we're ready to go."
"Because Tom and I are giving them this house after you build a bigger one for us."
"Holy shit, Max, where the hell did that come from?"
"Well, we have an extra kid with us for a while because his dad thought it was okay to beat him. And we've hired someone to come in and help us out with things. Keeping up with five active boys is going to be too much for me handle on my own once Tom gets back to work. So, basically, we're running out of space in this house and need something bigger."
"I don't think I've heard someone with a 4,500-square foot house say they need something bigger."
"Well, we're happy to be a first for ya'," I smiled
"How much bigger you talkin' about?"
"At least double, maybe triple the size of this house. Let me tell you what we're wanting to do, and you can find an architect to design it." I spent the next half hour explaining our intentions and everything we wanted in the new place. When I finally ran out of steam, John just looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "So, does it sound like something you be interested in tackling?"
"You're kidding me, right?" he deadpanned. "Hell, this is the kind of project us contractors will kill for. With everything you say you want in the place, you're lookin' at twelve to fifteen thousand square feet and probably two to three million. Are you really serious about this?"
"Damn right I am. We've got the means to help more kids than we are, and we intend to do just that. And I can't think of anybody else I'd rather have in charge of the project for us than you. Think you can find an architect to deal with the planning and design?"
"Sure, I know several and this project is right up their alley. The only possible issue I can see will be meeting the requirements needed by the state agencies to allow you to temporarily house kids. For sure, you're going to have to have it 100% handicap accessible and that ain't gonna be cheap."
"Money's not an issue, John, you should know that."
"Sure, I do, I just don't want you to be blindsided when bids start coming in. So, what, exactly, do you want me to do?"
"I want you to deal with the architect, the bids and all the contractors needed to complete the project. Basically, you're in charge of the whole thing. Tom and I will want to be involved in the design process with the architect, of course, but once that part is done, it's all yours."
"Okay, I can do that. Next question, how fast do you want it done? A project this size would normally take at least a year to complete from the initial meeting with the architect to turning over the keys to you."
"You have until November first this fall to have it done. I want us living in it by Thanksgiving."
"Oh, c'mon, Max, it can't be done."
"Sure, it can, John. I know it'll take a few minor miracles to pull it off, but you're just the guy who can do it. I have faith in you."
"Phew, I don't know, man. That's a tall order you're askin' for. I'll do what I can."
"Thanks, I knew we could count on you. You need anything to speed up the process, let me know."
"Yeah, all right. I better get busy and find us an architect. I'll talk to you later."
With that, he got up and headed for the hallway while pulling his phone out of his pocket to start making calls. Having taken the first step to achieving one of my dreams, I sat back and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Tom finally rejoined me with an exasperated look filling his face.
"I trust you're not having much fun dealing with the state bureaucracy."
"You got that right. It seems there's no single person you can talk to and get answers to your questions. I must've made twelve phone calls to different agencies and talked to probably twenty different people, but I think I've finally gotten everything lined up. Business license and tax number, investigator license, somebody's mailing me some books about records we should keep and for how long. This state's government is practically non-functional. I don't know how anybody gets anything done."
"Well, at least you've got a handle on it. You should probably call Carol and let her know you're about ready to go. I'm sure they're anxious to have you start doing their checks for them."
"Yeah, I will in a minute, but there was something else I wanted to ask you about that my mind blanked on yesterday. What did you say to Mr. Crawford at the Roadhouse when you went back?"
"I just told him that while I appreciated the thought behind what they did, the last thing I want, or need, is to be reminded of the Muellers every time I go there. I also told him that doing the right thing by going to the police doesn't mean I deserve special treatment or free meals, that I want us to be just regular customers when we go there."
"Is that all?"
"Well, no, I guess not. I also paid for the meals for everyone who was there when we were, and I added that if he wants to honor me for what I did, he should give a free meal a week to a family that looks like they really need it and not me. I think he liked that idea."
"Jesus, Max, you really are weird."
"Gee, thanks, I love you, too."
"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right. I mean just about being recognized and shit. I would have thought that you'd have gotten over that by now."
"Look, I've never been really comfortable with the whole fame thing. That's one of the reasons I live out here and never went out much. I absolutely hate complete strangers invading my privacy and personal space when I'm out. But for some reason, they can't seem to help it, so I tend to stay away from the madding crowds. The other thing is this, I don't want to be known as the guy who was abused in his church. There's over 3,000 other kids who suffered the same fate, let one of them become the poster child for the fight against childhood sexual abuse. I didn't apply for that job and if they offered it to me, I'd tell `em to fuck off."
"Well, okay then. I'll leave well enough alone, then."
"I'll try to get better about it, okay, but not until I've dealt with all this shit. Oh, and speaking of dealing with it, Hank Madonia from the paper is probably coming out at one this afternoon to talk to me."
"What!? Why the hell are you doing that?"
"I wasn't going to initially, but he told me there are some church members trying to whitewash the whole thing, like it never happened. I'm can't let that happen."
"Well, no, I guess not. You may want to call Dylan before the paper dude gets here to see if there's anything he doesn't want you to say. There may be information they don't released yet since they're still investigating."
"Good point, I'll do that. Oh, I also talked to John about our new shack and he's on board."
"Shack? Yeah, in your dreams. More like a mini-mansion."
"Whatever you wanna' call it, the dream is about to become a reality, so buckle up for the ride, big guy."
"Oh, I'm ready for it, I just hope you are."
"I will be, don't worry." Tom returned to the study to call Carol while I placed a quick call to Dylan. Carol was ecstatic at hearing the news that Tom would soon be ready to start working with her office. Dylan was less than thrilled that I'd agreed to be interviewed, but once I explained why I did, he understood my reason for doing so. His only real request was that I refrain from divulging the actual number of cases the police and FBI were dealing with. While I waited for Tom to come back I made another quick call to set up a surprise for the boys this coming weekend.
"Aircraft Services, this is Jeff, how can I help you?"
"Good morning, this is Max Sanders, how are you this morning, Jeff?"
"Doing great, Mr. Sanders. We haven't seen you for a while, planning on taking a little trip?"
"Yes, I am. Can you please make sure my plane is fueled, stocked with snacks and soda, and ready for takeoff by nine Saturday morning? Also, would you please file a flight plan for me to Chicago Miegs field? There will be ten of us and we'll be returning Sunday afternoon around five."
"We'll be happy to do that for you Mr. Sanders. Would you like us to have the plane towed out of the hanger before you arrive?"
"Please. That will save us some time. Thanks, Jeff, see you Saturday morning." I ended the call just as Tom came back from talking to Carol.
"Who is Jeff and why are you seeing him Saturday morning?"
"It's a surprise. You'll have to find out Saturday morning," I answered with a wicked smile.
"I don't much like surprises, Max."
"Fine, but not a word to the boys. I thought we'd pop up to Chicago this weekend, see some museums and parts of the city."
"Pop up to Chicago!? That's a four-hour drive. That's not something you just pop."
"It is when you can fly it in just over an hour."
"Oh no, you don't. I don't like planes."
"Oh, come one, hon, it'll be fun. Besides, I'm a good pilot. I haven't crashed yet."
"You're flying the deathtrap!? Then I definitely ain't goin'."
"Hey, I trust you to drive me around, don't I?"
"Big difference between drivin' and flyin', bubba. Cars don't fall out of the sky if their engine stops running. No, sir, I just don't do planes. Of any size."
"Well, I guess you get to stay home then. Either that or I'll drug your ass and have the boys drag you into the plane."
"They better be some damn good drugs, then," Tom laughed.
"Don't worry, it'll be fine." Tom continued to grumble as I picked up my book and started to read, chuckling lightly as I did so. I guess I'd just have to wait for Saturday to see just how serious he was about not flying. We spent the next couple of hours reading and relaxing before John came in to interrupt us.
"Well, you wanna' come see the new colors your boys picked out?"
"Sure," I answered as we marked our places and put our books down. We got up and played follow the leader for a moment before the big reveal. As we stepped into the room, our eyes were assaulted by a bright red color on the exterior wall, a wild orange on the closet wall, including inside the closet, and a rather muted beige or cream color on the hallway wall. The wall to which the TV was mounted, thankfully, remained white. "Whoa, I didn't realize that red the boys selected would be quite that bright. Same for the orange."
"I don't think I could sleep in here," Tom added.
"Yeah, that little bit of color on the paper really doesn't do them justice, does it?" John laughed. "The desks and shelves along the red wall will help tone it down a bit, I think."
"I sure as hell hope so."
"Well, we're done in here," John added, "so we'll get everything cleaned up and get on outta here. I talked to Bob a little while ago and he's planning on coming out tomorrow with a couple of his guys to help get the furniture in place."
"Sounds great. The boys will be happy to get moved into their new room. Then we can get the one they're in now ready for Ron."
"You takin' in another kid?"
"No, John, Ron is the guy we've hired to come in to help us out with cleaning, meals and stuff. He going to get their room."
"Gotcha'. I can see you guys needing some help. Just glad it ain't me," he added with a grin.
"So, any luck with finding an architect to work with us?"
"I think so. I've called a couple of them I know pretty well and I've arranged a meeting with them to discuss what you want. After we talk, I'll have them come up with some basic drawings of their ideas, then we can all sit down together and you can pick the one you want to use."
"Excellent, John, I knew I could count on you. Thanks."
"I'll keep you updated on my progress and let you know when we can all meet. Let's go boys, it's time for lunch. See you guys later."
"Thanks for the excellent work. Send me a bill when you get it done."
"You know I will."
With that, John and his guys took off leaving Tom and I alone. After he'd pulled away, I closed the garage door and on my return to the living room, asked Tom, "What's for lunch, big guy?"
"Whatever you're fixin', I guess."
"Hamburger and chips work for you?"
"Sure, sounds good." We headed to the kitchen and after 10 minutes of working together had whipped up a simple lunch and sat at the bar to chow down. Fifteen minutes later we were done eating and cleaned up our mess. We then spent about ten minutes getting a roast, potatoes and carrots into a crock pot to start cooking for our supper. It had been a long time since I'd had a good homecooked roast as it always seemed ridiculous to fix one for a single person. I mean, I can only deal with leftovers so many days in a row and I always ended up throwing half of it out. I was betting I wouldn't have to worry about leftovers tonight.
As we sat down in the living room again, Tom reminded me, "You have an appointment in the morning, don't you?"
"Yep. You takin' me again?"
"Sure, and after that, we can hit one of the office stores and take care of my shopping list. It probably wouldn't hurt to get some more food in the house while we're at it."
"Gee, that sounds like so much fun," I answered sarcastically. "How can I resist such an offer?" The ding of the drive sensor interrupted our conversation. "That's probably the guy from the paper. You ready for this?" I asked.
"I am if you are." Tom walked to the front door and let in a man and woman.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders. My name is Hank Madonia and my associate is Peggy Rector."
"Hi, Hank, Peggy. Come on in, but you should know that I'm not Mr. Sanders. I'm Tom Wright."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Wright. I just assumed ...,"
"No worries, Hank. Max is in the living room." Tom led them over to where I was still sitting and made the introductions. "Max, Hank and Peggy from the paper. Hank, Peggy, Max Sanders, the person you're here to interview." After a flurry of handshakes and hesitant greetings, we all took our seats and got comfortable.
"Mr. Sanders, I want to thank you for granting us this interview. I also want to apologize for my confusion at the door. When you said on the phone your fiancé would be present, I obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"That's all right, Hank. I know it's been ten years since the Supreme Court ruled, but I imagine you don't meet many same-sex couples in this area."
"No, we don't. But I'd still like to apologize."
"Don't worry about it. Now before we get started, would either of you like something to drink? We have tea, Pepsi, regular and diet, and water." After a quick glance at each other, both agreed a glass of tea would be welcome and Tom disappeared into the kitchen to fulfill their request. While we waited for him to return, I continued, "Now, please call me Max and I hope you're okay if I use your first names, also. I'm a very informal person."
"Thanks fine with us, Max, thank you."
"Did your editor give you a hard time over my request to read the story before it hits the paper?"
"A little bit, but when I explained why I wanted to tell your story, he gave in and said he'd allow it. He agrees with me that your story is too important to let it go."
"And just why are you so eager to get my story?"
"Well, as I told you on the phone, I think the church trying to cover things up is despicable."
"And how did you hear about that?" I asked.
"A couple of our staff attend services there and one of them told me what was happening. From the other information we've discovered so far, I don't doubt your story and I don't want anyone else in the area to doubt it either. I feel it's my duty as a reporter to get the truth out there."
"Well, I guess I appreciate that. You should know that I'm not real comfortable with this and when someone from your paper called here last week to ask for my comment on the arrests that had happened, I was really pissed off."
"I understand that completely, Max, but as I said, that was out of my control. I promise to treat your story with the dignity it deserves, and I'll protect its integrity."
"I hope so." Tom had returned with their drinks and retaken his seat next to me. "Well, I guess we're ready, so why don't we get started."
Hank laid his recorder on the table between us and started recording. "Max, I guess my first question is when did your ordeal begin and how long did it continue?"
"It started just after my thirteenth birthday ...," I answered as I began to tell my story again. We spent the next hour going over the basics of what had happened, with both Hank and Peggy asking questions. We finally got to a point where they were asking questions to which I hadn't thought much about the answers.
"Now, Max, we've researched the building permits and original plans for the church," Hank began. "And, according to those plans, the church is built on a slab and has no basement. How do you explain the room where you allege your abuse took place?"
After a moment, I answered, "I guess I can't. Except to say it's there, despite what the original plans may or may not show. I'm sure your source in the department has told you it exists."
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything about where our information came from. We're not allowed to reveal our sources."
I grabbed his recorder off the table, turned it off and dropped it in my lap. "Look, Hank, we know Barry Sinclair was your source in the department. We also know he's dead, so you won't be getting any more information from him. He was at the church and he saw the room where all this shit happened, so don't try to convince me you don't know the truth. You know damn near as much as we do about what went on in that fuckin' place. Now cut the shit or you can kiss your story goodbye because I'll destroy this recording right here and now."
Hank flushed with embarrassment at being called out. "Um, I don't know what to say. I didn't know you knew who it was."
"Of course, I know. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't have my own sources? Tom used to be a deputy in the department and we know way more about this case than you do. So, do you still want to hear the rest of it or are we done here?"
"I apologize, Max. I really do want to hear everything you can tell me and get the truth out there. I don't want to see another church get by with decades of abuse by sweeping it under the rug."
"Good, I don't either. So, let's wrap this up so you can go write your story." I restarted his recorder and laid it back on the table.
"What can you tell us about the twenty-six people arrested at the church last week?"
"Very little except to say that only two of those taken into custody are responsible for my abuse. As for the others, I don't know anything about them."
"Obviously, you aren't the only victim of these people. Do you know how many other children were victimized by these people?" Peggy asked.
"I can't answer that question."
"Is that because you don't know, or you were told not to say?"
"He said he can't answer the question, Peggy," Tom interjected. "It doesn't matter why. You'll have to ask the authorities to get that answer."
"We've tried to do that, but Sgt. Brock has refused to comment except to say the FBI is now in charge of the case."
"Then I guess you'll have to find out from them."
"Yeah, fat chance of that. We can't even find out who is in charge of the investigation there."
"Well," Hank began, "I guess my next question is this. Why have you come forward now, almost twenty years later?"
"Because I'd blocked it all from my mind. It wasn't until just recently that the memories started coming back."
"Do you know why the memories started to resurface now and would like to share that with us?"
"Well, yeah, we think so. We're in the process of adopting five boys. Two of those boys are twins and their last foster parents were the couple who had abused me."
"Oh, my," Peggy interjected. "I hope they weren't abused, also."
"We've already talked to them and they say nothing like that has happened to them, for which we're all immensely thankful. Well, since the boys have moved in, we've run into the couple a few times, and each time we did, I reacted more and more erratically. The last time, I almost got into a physical altercation with the husband. The afternoon of that incident, I spoke with a psychologist who was able to help me recover all the memories of my abuse instead of just flashes here and there."
"That must have been difficult for you to accept," Peggy replied.
"It was and still is. But it also made my life make much more sense to me, why I had such a hard time accepting I'm gay, why I live out here away from other people, why I almost committed suicide last fall. All those puzzle pieces finally fell into place and completed the picture."
"Wait, you almost took your life because of your abuse?" Hank asked.
"Well, partly because of it, yes. Another part was my parent's reaction to coming out to them, another part was realizing my dream of having a family was running away from me at full speed. I sank into a very deep depression because all of it was tied together with my own feelings of self-hatred."
"And what pulled you out of that depression? Why are you still here, about to be married and adopting five boys?" Peggy quizzed me.
"I blame my sister for that."
"Blame your sister?" she asked with curiosity.
"Well, yeah. It was my love for her that wouldn't let me follow through with it. I couldn't saddle her with leaving her behind to deal with our parents alone after I was gone."
"Could we talk to your parents and sister to get their version of the story?"
"No, absolutely not. They already feel guilty enough for not having stopped my abusers and I won't have you making them feel any worse about it. Like I told them, since I never said anything to them about what was happening, there was no way they could have stopped it."
"Can you tell us why you were selected to be one of those included in the abuse by this group?"
"I think it was mostly because I'm gay. The church's views on homosexuals is downright medieval. My abusers seemed to believe that I was possessed by the devil and they were trying to drive him from me, even while the husband was raping me, a decidedly gay act in itself. How anyone believes they can `cure' someone of being gay by committing gay acts themselves is beyond my ability to comprehend. And I have no clue as to where they got that notion since I was still unsure of it myself. I really hadn't said anything to anybody about what I was thinking when it all started." And then the thought popped in my head, or did I, without realizing it? "Then you also have the child pornography part of what this group of people was involved in, so, all in all it was pretty sick and twisted."
"No, there's not much logic to that is there? Well, I think that's all I had to ask, Max. Do you have more questions, Peggy?"
"I can't think of any. Is there anything you'd like to add, Max?"
"Not really except for one small request. I'd like to ask you to leave any reference to the boys we're adopting out of your article. This is my story, not theirs."
"That won't be a problem, Max," Hank agreed. "Well, look, we really want to thank you for your time today. We should get back to the office so I can get started writing this up. With the information you've given me, there should be no doubt at all about your story. I probably won't have anything for you to review until tomorrow. I want to make sure we get this right and we'll have to check a few things before we can publish it, so it probably won't be in the paper until Wednesday or Thursday."
"That's fine, Hank. We'll look forward to seeing it when you have it ready." We walked the pair to the front door and after some quick handshakes, watched them get into their car and drive away. As we headed back to the living room, I commented, "Well, that wasn't too bad."
"No, you seemed pretty calm while you answered their questions. More under control of your feelings than you have been. I think that's a good sign."
"I sure as hell hope so. It'll be interesting to see the story and what the reaction to it will be," I said as we settled back into our seats. "Hey, you better call Bob and let him know we won't be home until around two tomorrow afternoon. No sense in him trying to deliver furniture if we're not home." While Tom was talking to Bob, the boys announced their return from school with their three dings, so I grabbed my jacket and headed out to pick them up.
After they piled in the car, I turned around as they began removing clothes and as I pulled back into the garage, Joey asked, "Hey, Dad, can I call Josh tonight?"
"Yeah, but after supper. I want to talk to Rick about something anyway."
"Cool, thanks."
The boys led the way into the house and T.J., Mike and Andy stopped in their room to drop their clothes and backpacks. I followed Joey, Logan and Alex until they abruptly stopped in the doorway of the empty bedroom and Joey exclaimed, "Holy crap! That'll keep ya' awake."
"What were those three thinkin' when they picked these colors?" Alex bemoaned.
"Help me! I've gone blind!" Logan called out while laughing hysterically.
The other three charged into their new room to look at the new paint after hearing their comments.
"WOW!" T.J. yelled.
"Cool!" Andy enthused.
"I like my wall color best," Mike calmly said pointing to the beige hallway wall.
"I'm with you Mike," I whispered.
"When do we get our bed, desks and shelves, Dad?" T.J. asked.
"Hopefully tomorrow afternoon. We'll have to ask Pops," I replied. All three ran out of the room and I could hear them asking Tom the same question as I hung up my jacket.
"Bob says he'll be here tomorrow afternoon and you should be able to sleep in your new room tomorrow night." All three started cheering and dancing at the prospect of finally moving into their room.
"Homework and snack time, boys. Let's move it." All six grabbed their things and headed for the kitchen where Tom and I set them up with apple slices and caramel dipping sauce for their snack before heading to our room to get comfortable. As we were getting undressed I told Tom about calling Rick later to see if Josh and Eric might want to go to Chicago with us. While he grumbled about flying again, he agreed it might be fun for them to join us. I then added, "Joey wants to talk to Josh again, anyway."
"Hoo boy, here we go. Bet those two will want their own room in Chicago."
"Yeah, but that's not gonna happen. Good thing my condo up there has three bedrooms, though."
"You never told me you had a condo in Chicago."
"You never asked."
"You have property anywhere else?"
"A little, yeah. There's another condo in Orlando, a third in L.A. and a house outside Colorado Springs. I rent those when I'm not going to be there, which is most of the time. There's also a few rental properties in Springfield, along with having an interest in a couple of small strip centers that seemed like good investments."
"What, nothing in New York?" Tom asked sarcastically.
"Nothing permanent, no. I just stay in a suite somewhere when I go there. Guess I'll have to find a bigger one now," I grinned.
"So, where are we going on our honeymoon, Chicago, Orlando, L.A. or Colorado?"
"None of the above. I have other plans for that trip."
"So, where we goin?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. I'll tell you this much, you won't need a passport."
"Well, that sucks. I was hopin' to become known on the international travel circuit."
"Someday, big guy, but not yet."
We rejoined the boys in the kitchen to find them winding down on their homework. While Tom quizzed T.J. on his new spelling words for the week, I took a few minutes to help Logan with some English. Joey and Alex were busily cranking away on the fifth-grade math book and it looked like they were about half-way through it already. Mike and Andy were chatting quietly and playing tic-tac-toe, so they didn't disturb the others while they did their school work. As I started to turn to check on the roast, Alex slipped me a little piece of paper. I opened it up and found the following note scrawled as only boys do, `Can I call Brent after supper?' Assuming he didn't want Joey to know about it, I gave him a simple nod of acknowledgment which garnered a quick thumbs-up and a smile from him.
I checked the roast and, thinking we had about another hour before it would be ready, I suggested we go watch a Star Trek while we waited. With agreement from all, the boys packed their things back to their rooms before we settled into the theater for the next episode. When it was over, we returned to the kitchen to get ready to eat. The boys had the table set in no time and everyone's drinks were ready by the time Tom and I had the meat, potatoes and carrots ready to set on the table. After helping the boys fill their plates, we dug in to a very tasty meal.
The boys were uncharacteristically quiet during the meal and I sensed an undercurrent of repressed hostility from the group. I couldn't quite put my finger on the source, or sources, but I was pretty sure we'd find out before the night was over. After emptying our plates, the boys got busy with their regular task of cleaning up the table and loading the dishwasher while Tom and I took care of the crock pot and the rest of the mess left over from our preparations. With the cleanup completed, I excused myself to use the phone in the study to call Rick while Tom agreed to keep the boys otherwise occupied.
After closing the door so I couldn't be overheard, I dialed Rick's number and settled in my chair. After three rings, the phone was answered.
"Joe's Bar and Grill, what's your pleasure?" Eric answered.
"Is this the Stone home?" I asked.
"Sure is, Mr. Sanders. It's Eric, how ya' doin'?"
"I'm great Eric. How `bout yourself?"
"I couldn't be better, man. Just glad I don't have to wear a jock twenty-four/seven anymore. Course, at home, I don't have to wear nothin' and it's great to be so comfortable again." Just the thought of the young man talking to me while we were both naked was creating an unforeseen reaction in my body.
"I'm glad to hear it. Hey, is your dad around? I'd like to talk to him about something."
"Sure, one sec. Talk to you later."
"Thanks, Eric." I waited patiently for Rick to come on the line.
"Max, you there?"
"Sure am, Rick. How's it goin' over there in paradise found?"
"You wouldn't believe the changes we've gone through, man. It's like the last year and a half never happened. The boys are happy again, I'm happy again, I don't think life could get much better."
"Glad to hear it. Eric sure sounded happy."
"Without a doubt. So, what'd you want?"
"Look, I had the idea this afternoon of taking our boys up to Chicago this weekend and I wanted to see if Eric and Josh would like to go along with us?"
"I'm sure they'd love it. Hell, I'd love to go too, but I'm scheduled to work double shifts both days this weekend, so they'd have to be on their own most of it anyway."
"That's great, Rick. About the boys going with us, not you workin' your ass off."
"I'm used to it, man. When do you want to leave?"
"I thought we'd leave after school Friday afternoon and come back late Sunday afternoon. Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, that'd work out just fine. How you gettin' there and where you stayin'?"
"I'm going to fly us up and back and we'll stay at my condo."
"Wow, must be nice to have a buttload of money. I'm lucky just to keep us in this lousy house."
"It does have its benefits, I won't lie. If Josh and Eric have a small bag they could put some clothes and other necessities in, you could drop the bags off Friday during the day and your boys could ride the bus home with ours. We can leave right after they get here, then."
"Sounds like a plan, Max. I'll drop their bags off around eight-thirty on my way into work Friday morning."
"Perfect, Rick. You can tell your boys about the trip, but ours don't know about it and won't until we get to the airport, so ask Eric and Josh to keep it quiet, okay?"
"No sweat. Thanks again for offering to take them along with you. We don't have much chance to take trips or anything due to my schedule and lack of money."
"Happy to do it, Rick. Now, before we hang up, is Josh home? Joey wants to talk with him."
"Sure, I'll get him. Talk to you later, Max."
While I waited for Josh, I put the call on hold and buzzed the living room phone for Joey to come back so I wouldn't have to yell. I got back on the line to hear Josh saying, "Hello? Joey, you there?"
"Hang on, Josh, he's on the way."
"Oh, hey Mr. Sanders. How are ya'?"
"Just fine, Josh, how `bout yourself."
"I ain't complainin'. I'm a gay boy who gets to look at his naked brother and dad all the time now. Don't know if I've said it to ya', but thanks. I'm lovin' it." I could practically hear his grin through the phone.
"Glad we could help you out." I heard a light rap on the door and it popped open to reveal Joey's head sticking through the gap. I waved him on in and said, "Here's Joey now, talk to you later." I set the phone on the desk and vacated the chair so Joey could use it. "Don't be forever," I reminded him.
"Yeah, whatever, Dad, thanks."
Accepting the fact I'd been dismissed, I returned to the living to join the others. After taking my chair, Alex asked, "Can I call Brent now since bonehead's talkin' to Joshy?"
"Sure, you got his number?"
"Yeah, he gave it to me at lunch," he answered while holding up his left hand and showing me the number he'd scrawled on its palm earlier.
"Why don't you use the phone in Tom's office then? And I want to talk to his mom or dad when you're done with Brent, okay?"
Alex jumped up off the floor and as he headed to the hallway, called out, "I'll let you know when."
After he disappeared, I leaned over to Tom and whispered, "Josh and Eric are in, and I'm going to see if Brent can go, too."
"Holy crap, man," Tom hissed back. "You are a glutton for punishment," he added with a grin. I just shrugged my shoulders in resignation.
"Hey, Josh, what's up?"
"Nothin' much, dude. Just watchin' some stupid crap on the tube the old man wants to see."
"Yeah, we just finished supper. Not sure what's next. Hey, thanks for sittin' with me at lunch."
"No problem, I like sitting with you. You're a lot of fun to be around. It's too bad Alex and Logan decided they didn't want join us."
"Don't worry `bout them, he and Logan were fine. It must be weird for a fifth-grader to be sittin' with a third-grader. Ain't nobody givin' you any shit about it, are they?"
"Not yet, and if they do, I'll just tell `em to go fuck themselves. I mean, If I wanna sit with my boyfriend, it ain't none of their business, is it?"
"Really!? I'm your boyfriend?"
"Well, yeah, I thought so."
"Good, `cause you're my boyfriend, too. I can't wait `til we can spend the night together again."
"Me either. I got some fun planned for us."
"Yeah, I bet you do. I'm always up for some fun," I giggled. "Including right now. Tell me what you got planned."
I sat on the floor in Pops' empty office and dialed Brent's number. "Hi, is this Mrs. Stevens?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"This is Alex Allison, Brent's friend from school. Could I talk to him, please?"
"Oh, sure, Alex, let me find him."
"Thank you." I waited for Brent to pick up the phone and his mom to hang up. "Hey, Brent, how ya' doin'?"
"I'm okay, Alex," he answered with a questioning tone.
"Cool, me too. Hey, I know this a gonna sound weird, but I didn't want to say nothin' `bout it at school."
" `Bout what?"
" `Bout you and me bein' more than just friends. When you were here for our birthday party, you kinda hinted at maybe bein' like Joey and me. I wanted to find out if you were serious."
"Man, I can't talk about this shit over the phone."
"Would you rather talk about it at school?"
"Fuck no, too much chance somebody overhearin' us."
"Then when and where can we talk about it?"
"You gotta point there, I guess, smartass. Not like I can drive over to your house, is it?"
"Not unless you got a driver's license hiding somewhere you ain't told me about," I giggled.
"Fat chance, dude. Not for another six and half years, anyway. Okay, I'll tell you this much, I think about you all the time, is that what you want to hear?"
"Good, `cause I think `bout you, too. What happened in our bathroom after swimmin' was hotter than hell and I wanna do it again, but just you and me."
"Yeah, me too, man. But how we gonna do that when you're always with Joey?"
"Maybe I could spend the night at your house sometime, see what happens?"
"Yeah, mom and dad would probably be cool with that. But what about your brother, won't he get pissed?"
"Who gives a shit about what that fart-eater thinks? He's already hangin' with Josh at school, won't hardly say shit to me no more."
"Wait, Josh, who's that? There ain't no Josh in our class."
"Yeah, I know. The horny little fucker found himself a fifth-grader he's got the hots for."
"Damn, dude, bet that pisses you off."
"Yeah, it does, but our dads say we have to learn to deal with it. I guess they're right, but I still don't like it much. It's like I ain't good enough for him no more."
"Well, you're plenty good for me, dude. I'll talk to mom and dad and see if you can come over some night, maybe this weekend."
"Thanks, man, I hope so. You wanna have lunch together tomorrow?"
"Sure, you, me and Logan can sit together."
"Great. Well, I better get off the phone, but my dad wanted to talk to your mom or dad before we hung up. Let me get him."
"Yeah, I'll get my mom, too. Talk to you tomorrow, Alex." I went and got dad and as he left to go talk to Brent's mom, I noticed my damn brother wasn't there yet. Must still be talkin' to his boyfriend. Little fucker, anyway, I'll show him.
Alex told me it was time for me to talk to Brent's Mom, so I headed to Tom's office and closed the door. I picked up the phone from the floor and leaned against the window sill. "Hi, is this Mrs. Stevens?"
"My name's Monica and Brent tells me yours is Max, right?"
"Yep, that's me. I met your husband when I picked up Brent for Joey and Alex's party last weekend."
"Right, right. Ben told me about you. And Brent said he had a lot of fun at the party. Thanks for inviting him."
"I'm glad to hear it. The reason I wanted to talk to you is this; we're taking our sons to Chicago this weekend to see some of the museums and other sights and since Brent seems to be pretty good friends with Joey and Alex, I wanted to see if he might like to join us."
"Oh, gee, I don't know. We already have plans for this weekend. I'll have to talk to my husband and see what he thinks."
"I understand, but let me tell you what our plans are, just in case you change your mind." I let her know what I was thinking about and added, "Just let me know. We'd be happy to have Brent join us."
"I'll talk to Jack when he gets home from work and call you back later tonight, okay?"
"Perfect, Monica. Look forward to hearing from you. Talk to you later." I hung up the phone and headed back to join the rest of the family. Joey was just ending his call to Josh at the same time.
"Oh, damn, Josh, that felt good," I panted. "I just wish you were here to do it for me, but I like your ideas for our next sleepover. Can't wait to try them out for reals. Love you, dude."
"Love you, too, Joey. See you at school tomorrow. Think about me when you go to sleep tonight."
"For sure, I will," I sighed. "You too." I hung up the phone and took a deep breath of satisfaction before realizing I'd been in here too long. At least I'd be able to show my face without my dick being hard, not after what we'd just talked about doing to each other next time we got together. I hustled my ass out of Dad's study, hoping nobody would notice I was pinker than normal from the pounding I'd just given myself.
I was returning to the living room just as Joey was coming back from the study. He looked to be a bit flushed, but maybe that was just a figment of my imagination. "Who's ready for another Star Trek?" I asked as I rounded the corner from the hallway. With agreement from everyone, we headed to the theater for another show. We watched a second show then took a break to get popcorn and drinks before we started our third episode for the night. About halfway through, Joey and Alex started a scuffle in their chairs.
I looked to Tom and said, "Your turn, bubba, I've already talked to them twice about this shit and it obviously had no impact. Go impart some words of wisdom to our sons."
"Can I knock their heads together?" he chuckled.
"I'd prefer you didn't, but if you think that's what it's going to take, knock yourself out."
Tom got up and stepped behind the two arguing lads. He laid a hand on each of their shoulders, then jerked his head towards the door, telling them to follow him. The three made their way out of the theater and let the rest of us continue watching.
After closing the door to the theater, Alex asked, "What's up, Pops?"
"That's what I want to find out from you two. Let's sit." I led the way to the living room and sat in my chair while the boys sat on opposite ends of the couch, leaving plenty of empty space between them. "You wanna tell me what your problem is?"
"He won't shut up," Joey complained.
"I haven't heard him say a word," I responded.
"Oh, c'mon Pops, you know we don't have to talk to have a chat. He just keeps pushing shit into my head and I'm getting' tired of it."
"What are you saying to your brother, Alex?" I asked.
"Nothin' he cares `bout," Alex grumped.
"What's he sayin', Joey?"
"That he don't need me no more, he's got Brent, he don't know why I like Josh, just stupid shit like that. And it's really startin' to piss me off."
"Is that what you're doing, Alex?"
"Well, yeah, and it's all true, but he don't give a shit `bout me no more since he's got Joshy."
"Haven't we talked to you two about how you can love someone else and still love each other?"
"Yeah," they both agreed.
"But he can't divide his love between me and Josh," Alex grumped. "He ain't smart enough to handle it."
"Boys, let me tell you something a very wise person once told me. You two might be whiz-kids with numbers, but you don't know beans about math. You can't divide love. You'll get an imaginary number. Love can only be multiplied."
"What kind of crap is that?" Joey asked.
"Not crap, Joey, the truth. Every person you love just multiplies the amount of love you get and how much you can give back. My friend Gene told me that some time back and the more I've thought about it, the more I agree with him. Think about it, you two. And in the meantime, quit sniping at each other about who loves who more or less or whatever. If you keep it up, I'm gonna knock your heads together and see if that's what we have to do to get it through your thick skulls? Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they agreed.
"Good, now come give me a hug so I can give you more love to share." Both boys jumped in my lap and wrapped their arms around my neck. I, in turn, wrapped an arm around each of them, pulled them in snugly and kissed the top of both their heads. When we broke up, the two stood in front of me and they hugged and kissed each other. When they finally separated, they both mumbled apologies to the other. "Thank you," I added.
As we started to return the theater to finish the show, the rest of the family was coming out to let us know we were too late to finish the show with them.
Our third episode finished, so we collected the popcorn bowls and drink cups and headed for the kitchen. As we left the room, I saw Tom and the twins headed our way. "Okay, boys, bathrooms, brush teeth and bed. We'll be there in a few minutes." As they dropped their things in the dishwasher and headed for their rooms, I asked, "So, were you able to get through to them?"
"Probably not. Time will tell."
As we turned to follow the boys, the phone rang. "That's probably Monica," I commented as we crossed the living room to answer that phone. "Hello."
"Is this Max?"
"Sure is. Monica?"
"Yep, told you I'd call back. Hey, I talked to Jack and he's okay with Brent going to Chicago with you. We were just going to a family reunion of sorts, but Brent doesn't know most of the people who'll be there, so it won't bother him to miss it. If you'll give me your address, Max, I'll drop off an overnight bag sometime Friday afternoon. And give me your number in case something comes up and we need to get in touch with you." I gave Monica the information requested, and she continued. "This is great for Brent, Max. He told me about his call with Alex earlier and it sound like they are going to be good friends."
"I'm glad to hear it, Monica. We'll watch for you Friday." After I hung up I told Tom, "Okay, Brent's in, too. That makes eleven us for the trip. I think we'll have to take both cars to the airport so everyone will have a seatbelt."
"Probably a good idea. I might be able to get you out a of speeding ticket, still, but not a seatbelt violation. The department really frowns on that, especially with kids."
"Not a problem, we can just park them in the hanger when we get there." We headed on to say our goodnights, stopping in to see the twins and Logan first. They were just coming out of the bathroom when we entered their room. We followed them to the bed, gave them each a hug, a kiss and shared and `I love you' before they climbed in. Once all three were settled, we pulled up the covers and said goodnight before turning out the light and heading on down the hallway. Andy, Mike and T.J. were already in bed and waiting for their covers, which we pulled up to their shoulders. We leaned over and gave them their hugs, kisses, and an `I love you', receiving the same back from them.
As we settled on the love seat in the living room to relax before turning in, Tom asked, "How big is this condo, and can it sleep eleven people?"
"Yeah, I think we'll be okay. It has a good-sized kitchen, a large living room, terrace, three bedrooms, and three and a half baths. The master bedroom has a king-sized bed, the other two have two queen-sized beds and the couch in the living room is a sleeper sofa. I figure two kids for each bed and one on the couch."
"You think they'll be okay with that?"
"I don't know why they wouldn't be. Six of `em share two beds here without any problems."
"But what about Eric, Josh and Brent? Maybe Eric and Josh would be willing to share a bed and Brent take the couch then?"
"That's not what I was thinkin' would happen, big guy. It's more likely Joey and Josh end up in one bed with Alex and Brent in the other, Logan could bunk with T.J. with Andy and Mike in the other bed in that room and Eric on the couch."
"You're probably right. Guess I wasn't thinkin' about that. This could be a couple of very interesting nights," he laughed.
"I don't doubt it one bit."
We finally wound down and just watched the fire for a while as we held hands. I laid my head on Tom's shoulder after a bit and we just enjoyed the closeness of the moment. The next thing we both saw was the sun streaming through the glass doors as Joey, Alex and Logan were shaking us to wake us up.
"C'mon you two, wake the hell up! We're late!" Joey yelled.
My eyes opened in a flash and I discovered we'd both fallen asleep on the love seat. Tom was slowly coming to next to me and I tried to get up, but my back was kinked and hurt like hell. "You guys go wake your brothers and everyone get dressed. I'll drop some Pop-Tarts in the toaster on my way to get dressed. GO!" The three disappeared to follow their instructions and I slowly levered myself off the love seat and into a somewhat vertical position. Tom was also moving rather gingerly as we headed to the kitchen to get some breakfast going for the boys.
After dropping some tarts in the toaster, I headed to the bedroom to get some sweats and a shirt pulled on so I could run the boys out to the bus shelter. When I returned to the kitchen to supervise the feeding frenzy, Tom headed down the hall to get dressed for the day, also. I dug through the kitchen cabinets to find the Advil to help ease the pain in my back, swallowed a couple and chased them down with some coffee to wake me up. When the boys had eaten their fill, I followed them as they grabbed their packs and coats, slipping my jacket from the closet on the way by. We loaded up in the car and made the short trek to the end of the drive. As the boys climbed from the car to wait for the bus, I got my hug from each as I reminded them to learn something new today. Returning to the house, I found Tom in the kitchen whipping up some scrambled eggs for breakfast.
"I hope you're making enough to share," I joked as I joined him.
"You bet. Man, I can't believe we fell asleep on the love seat last night."
"I can't either and I may love you to death, but I hope we never do it again. May back is freakin' killin' me."
"Mine, too. Thanks for leavin' the Advil out so it was easy to find."
"No sweat, I figured you might want some, too."
We settled in at the bar to enjoy our breakfast. When we were done, we cleaned up our mess and finished getting ready for our trip to town later. While Tom settled in the living room, I headed to the study to print out what I'd written for Dr. Schaid so I could review it before my appointment this morning. After taking my own chair next to Tom, I began to read the twenty-some page screed. The deeper I got into it, the more and more surprised I was at not just the contents, but the coherence of my thoughts, though I still don't really remember typing it all.
There was a fair amount of hatred, at both the Muellers and myself, along with a sense of innocence lost all those years ago. Though I knew the self-hatred wasn't really logical for me to have since I had no control over the events twenty years ago, it was definitely there. I discovered, much to my chagrin, there was absolutely no humor in what I'd created, even though that was kind of a hallmark for my writings, the ability to find humor in most any situation. Sadly, there was none to be found here. After completing my reading, I laid the pages in my lap, closed my eyes and shuddered at the sheer horror I'd survived and suddenly realized that if this is what I truly felt, I had a long way to go to recover any sense of normal in my life. I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to find Tom gazing at me with a look of concern sculpted on his face.
"You okay, babe?" he asked gently.
"Yeah, as okay as I can be right now, anyway."
"May I read it?"
I grabbed the bundle from my lap and held it out, saying, "Knock yourself out, bubba. Try not to throw up."
Tom took the pages from my hand and settled back in his chair. As he dove deeper and deeper into the thoughts I never knew I had, I could see his face scrunching with disgust and tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. When he finally reached the end, he laid the pages on the table and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box. After drying his face and eyes, and blowing his nose, he looked back at me and started crying again. He finally pulled himself back together and after another go-round with the Kleenex, he finally said, "God, I had no idea you felt that way."
"I didn't either," I commiserated. "When I started work on that last week, I wasn't really thinking about it, I just let it flow. And flow. And flow. It reads like a stream of consciousness, just whatever popped in my mind. And you lunatics think I need to turn that into a book. You're crazier than I am."
"We're not crazy, Max, we just know that the book you can create from your pain will help so many others who have gone through what you have. You really need to do it."
"No, I don't. I'm not going to profit from this shit in any way, shape or form."
"Try this idea on for size and tell me what you think. You want to create a charitable foundation to help defray the expenses for helping kids, right? What if you fund that foundation with the proceeds from a book? This book. I bet you could convince your publisher to reduce the percentage of their income and forward that into the fund, too."
I cogitated on his idea for a few minutes before picking my head back up and saying, "You know, as ideas go, that one ain't half-bad. In fact, it's pretty damn good. I'll have to think about it, but I admit it's a possibility. If anyone should profit from my story, it should be kids we're gonna help. You keep comin' up with ideas like that, bubba, and I just might keep ya'," I laughed, finally.
"Glad to hear it," Tom breathed as he wiped his brow in mock relief.
The ring of an incoming call broke the moment. Not recognizing the number, I hesitantly answered the phone anyway. "Hello?"
"Good morning. Is this Mr. Sanders or Mr. Wright?"
"I'm Mr. Sanders, who's calling please?"
"Mr. Sanders, this is Gary from the courthouse. Please hold for Judge Corgan."
Oh crap, now what?