Date: Fri, 29 Oct 2004 20:13:25 -0700 From: Joseph Farrin Subject: CALIFORNIA BOY COCK 2 It was a while before I was able to call Vicki's office. They had thought she wasn't feeling well and hadn't yet gotten around to calling in sick. They were shocked. Next I called Dick Carlton; he and Jeannie had been up here several weekends to visit us and they had become good friends of Vicki's as well as mine. The emergency ambulance service out of Roseville called and asked which mortuary should they take the body to. Shit I didn't know the names of any so I asked if I could call them back in half an hour. I called Carolyn Voss, Mickey's mother, told her what had happened and asked if she could recommend a mortuary. She responded by saying she'd walk down to my house right away. "Carolyn said she knew Vicki fairly well and always thought she was a class act, admired her and expressed her sadness over her accident. After a brief discussion, and with the information Carolyn had provided, I made a decision about the mortuary and she called the ambulance service, made fresh coffee and began asking me questions - where would her funeral service be held, which cemetery would she be buried in, explaining the available choices, asking if the local newspaper or the Sacramento Bee had called me yet. She had obviously been through similar circumstances before and knew all the things that would be coming up. After we finished our coffee she called Fr. Kruger, one of the priest's at St. Mary's and the one that had married us, and found out when he could come to the house to talk to me and also scheduled a meeting for me with the mortician. "Mr. Townsend, now we can work in other things that come up so they don't conflict with the mortician and Fr. Kruger. May I call you Jase? I know your name because Mickey is always talking about you." "Sure, and I'd like to call you Carolyn. "And, Jase, unless you have out of town relatives coming, I think Mickey should sleep over at your house for three or four nights. I know you're going to be upset and lonely for a while." "I haven't any relatives and I'd love Mickey's company. He talks my head off when he gets started. He'd be a good distraction." "That sounds like Mickey." I met the mortician at 1:00 PM, decided on a casket, told him to come to the house later and I'd pick out some clothes for Vicki to be buried in and that I wanted a closed casket funeral and a private burial three or four days after the funeral. When I returned home Carolyn said Vicki's attorney had called and I was to call him as soon as I got home. As everyone who called, he expressed his condolences and asked me if I knew the combination to Vicki's floor save and if I did I should open it, read the contents and he'd call me again the day after the funeral. I moved a lamp table and a couple of chairs in a corner arrangement in one corner of the study, pulled back the carpeting and opened the safe. Everything Vicki had owned had been left to me. Also in the safe were her life insurance policies and a deed to three local cemetery lots with a note attached that if she died before me shed wanted me to have her buried next to her father and mother. Carolyn came in and said neither of us had thought about a caterer for the customary reception after the funeral, so she would call one. She wanted to know how many I thought would be at the funeral so I quickly estimated and then gave her a figure way in excess of the estimate. The church was crowded; people from Vicki's office, local friends and elderly friends of her parents, neighbors and to my surprise, Jack Mooney came with Dick and Jeannie. The reception went well and I was glad the caterer was serving hard liquor as well as soft drinks and coffee. A lot of people had highballs and it seemed to ease what could have been an otherwise somber affair. There was food left over, I told Carolyn to take it, leaving enough for Mickey and me for this evening. He had been eating dinner with me. It was a real blessing having him stay with me, even sleep with me, although we weren't doing anything sexually. In the evening, after supper, Mickey, for the first time in my presence, grabbed a beer from the fridge and I mixed myself a Scotch and soda. Sitting on the couch in the library, the TV on but being ignored, Mickey, now on his third beer and as was sometimes his habit, came up with a question, as if he'd picked it right out of the blue, that completely threw me. "Jase, exactly what is a Lesbo?" I was taking a sip of my drink and it was now my turn to damn near choke. "Why do you want to know?" "I think I know what it means, but come on, just tell me." "I think you know what the word homosexual means." "Yea, that's what you and I are." "Homosexual is a term applied only to men. Women who like women are referred to as lesbians." (hoping that would end the conversation). "I thought that was what it meant. In these small towns around here, guys who don't have girlfriends, even in high school, are called homos and girls who don't have boyfriends are called lesbos." "High school kids can be cruel at times. It was the same when I was in high school." "Yea, and I think the girls are worse than the boys." "I agree." (again hoping that would be the end of the conversation but I was wrong) and he came right back with, "What I can't understand is what two girls could do together?" "What do you mean by that?" "You know, guys have dicks that can be sucked and I know some guys fuck other guys in their backside. What can women do, they don't have anything that sticks out." "Just how far do you want me to go with this subject." "Tell me everything you know about it" "That won't take long. Do you know what orgasm means?" "No." "Its another word for climax and I know men are capable of only one or at most two orgasms at a time, but I've been told women can experience multiple orgasms - sometimes as many as 8 or 10 in rapid succession." A woman can arouse a female sex partner by squeezing her breasts, sucking her nipples, as we have done to each other, by inserting and wiggling their tongue in her vagina and by using dildos." "What are dildos?" "In short - cocks made of soft rubber. I've seen some in porno bookstores and on the Internet. They can be very realistic. Men sometimes stick them up their ass to help them climax." "Jesus, if those rubber dicks are so fucking real and that's what they like why don't they just let a guy who has the real thing do the fucking?" "Mickey, I really don't know. But think about it. When two men do it together, they are helping one another reach orgasm. When you suck my cock or jack me off, it really gets me hot and I have no trouble having an orgasm and you enjoy making me climax - maybe because you know exactly how I'll feel when it happens and that excites you too. If a girl was to suck me off or jack me off, I don't think she could even get my dick hard. I wouldn't know what makes her want to jack me off or suck on my dick. I can't relate to any kind of thrill she gets out of doing it. See the difference?" "Yea. And you're right. It isn't only a matter of what's being done but it's also a matter of who's doing it." "You got it, despite my clumsy explanation." We paused and got ourselves another drink from the kitchen. When we returned, Mickey sat with his back against one arm of the sofa, his knees sort of spread apart and one of his feet jammed between my butt and the sofa, the other at the edge of the sofa and under one of my legs. "Thanks Jase, all that stuff you told me has made me kinda hard. How about you?" "Not yet." "Jase, have you ever fucked a girl? I answered, "No" and the word was no sooner out of my mouth than I realized I had jumped, mouth first into his trap - if, indeed it was a trap and not just a question asked out of curiosity. Somehow I felt I should elaborate and told him about how I happened to marry Vicky and it had been, on her part, a marriage of convenience and why she wanted it. When asked, he knew what a marriage of convenience was all about. I elaborated some more and said we had become very close and I was genuinely sorry she had died and I would sincerely miss her. He replied that he realized that. I concluded that his question that had led to the discussion was, after all, just out of curiosity but he wouldn't let up. He asked another question in follow up. "Have you ever fucked a boy?" which led to my telling him about Alex, which really captured his interest. "Would you fuck me sometime?" "Would you like me to?" "Yes, very much so." "Well, Alex had obviously been well fucked before I got to him so he needed no teaching on my part, whereas you would. If you really want to, we can take it in small steps." He got up, moved and sat down atop my legs, facing me, put his arms around my neck and began kissing me. "I can feel your cock is hard right now, Jase. Do you think it would be bad if we did something tonight?" "Not bad, Mickey. I just think it might give me a guilty feeling." "Why? You said Vicki and you never did anything together but both of you went your separate ways and I guess I was the lucky one you decided to give your attention to." "I was lucky on that score, too." "Do you still love me, Jase?" "Of course I do. "Then lets do it, Jase. Please, I really need you - bad!" He bent forward and began open mouth kissing me. The kid knew every single trick there was to know about seducing and it was my fault - I had taught him. We started unbuttoning each other's shirts and pulling them and our undershirts over our head. He immediately began rubbing, pulling, pinching, biting and sucking my nipples. We didn't even bother going upstairs, but turned the TV off, got the remainder of our clothes off, threw some pillows on the floor and started our love making in front of the fire. After some more kissing and after I'd worked over his nipples, we fondled and sucked for a while, until he said, "Jase, please, fuck me now." "No way Mickey. Absolutely no way. I could hurt you, hurt you badly, I could cause a tear inside of you and make you bleed. Neither of us would get any fun out of that." "Maybe I could take just a little bit of it. Would you try to just get your cockhead in?" "I got up and felt around the back of the bottom drawer of the desk and found a partially used tube of K-Y, had him lie on his side and raise one leg, lubed both of us, and started to slowly insert my cockhead. If it hurt he didn't say anything and suddenly his sphincter seemed to just clamp around the rim of my cockhead and my cock erupted as it had never erupted before. It was all I could do not to ram it in one stroke as far as it would go into his tight, warm, virgin boy pussy. But I knew that I best remain motionless and I did. It was a very intense orgasm for me and I knew he was experiencing the same. "Oh God, I'm shooting. Oh God, I can feel you shooting in my ass. Oh God, I'm shooting again. Oh! Oh! Oh! Jase, I love you. Jase, I love you." He was almost breathless. "I love you, too. You are my sweet baby and don't ever forget it." My cock lost its erection but his rectal muscles were still so tightly clamped around the rim of my cockhead that I just left it in until we were both calmed down. "I never dreamed it would feel like that, Jase." "Wait until you can take the whole 8 inches and I can really throw a proper fuck into you, then you'll know really know what getting fucked feels like." We had ignited a fire in each of us that was never to be put out. He still came over two days during the week after school and Vicki's death make for a thousand tasks I wanted to do with the house before putting it up for sale, so we always got together Saturdays. Every time we were together I fucked him, getting a little more of my cock into his love hole every week until he was finally able to take the whole thing with pleasure instead of pain. That day came on a rainy, early, spring afternoon after school. We immediately went upstairs and to bed as usual. After playing with our nipples, kissing and fondling each other's bodies, I lubed him, entered him and started fucking. I fucked his sweet boy cunt like I had promised him I would and I fucked him for a long time, I fucked him slowly but I fucked him deep. At times I thought he was going to crawl off the edge of the bed. Never had I experienced a boy that got so much enjoyment out of having my cock inside of him and never had my cock ever enjoyed its role as much as it enjoyed taking Mickey's cherry. He was no longer a virgin and his boy cunt was now the property of my cock - always ready to be taken and my cock was always eager to please him. Concurrently, Carolyn, along with a friend of hers took Vickie's clothes - a big closet jammed full of them. The friend was small like Carolyn, and both were ecstatic at getting them. Then, Carolyn and I went through all the kitchen cupboards and I gave her most of the pots, pans, bowls and other kitchen utensils, including a bread maker and a heavy-duty mixer. She balked at a set of Wedgwood china, silverware and the crystal, saying I should keep them, as they were too valuable to give away. The attorney had told me Vicki's estate would have to go through probate. Meanwhile, with Mickey's help I was getting rid of a lot of stuff in preparation for selling the house. Unlike grandma's this one was not the source of so many, strong memories. Mickey turned 18 in March and his graduation from high school was held on the last day of April. I was invited and attended and gave him a present. The following Saturday, Mickey was late showing up. Worried I called Carolyn. She said he and his dad had a violent argument late last night and she had to step between them to end it because she was afraid her husband was going to hit Mickey. Mickey threw some stuff into a backpack and slammed out the door. She was so upset and afraid if she called me her husband would start on her. She was hoping Mickey had come to my house to spend the night. God, what a development, I was worried sick. The only comfort was the fact that Carolyn kept assuring me that he'd show up in a day or two. But he didn't and I just wanted to get the hell out of town, drive somewhere, anywhere to try and clear my mind but I had too many things to attend to. The guy handling my account at the brokers' office was a gem and called me at least every two months just to see if everything was going OK. He happened to call today and I had told him about Vicki's death, her life insurance and her various savings accounts plus my planning to sell the house. He immediately asked if she had left everything to my trust or to me as an individual. I told him to me as an individual and he said we had to figure out a way to keep the IRS from taking a huge bite out what I'd receive. The insurance was clear sailing, the savings accounts were an unavoidable tax problem but the house was a big one the minute I sold it unless I specifically made the offer to sell conditional on my taking a loan - a 30-year loan, preferably, so my income would be spread over 30 years. So, I contacted a woman realtor. Lynn Rogers, a longtime friend of Vicki's and she told me a lot of upwardly mobile young couples had large annual incomes but were short on cash, so she thought they would like a deal where the owner carried a loan. It depended on their reaction to such a large house - probably a couple with a big family. So, as you see, I could hardly pack up and get away for any length of time. Lynn said she was going to list if for $460,000. One weekday, I felt as though I'd had it up to the neck and decided I'd just go someplace where I could spend the day just driving around - goofing off. I really hadn't done much exploring of the area. I started up into the hills away from I-80 and happened onto the town of Apex. It was so small, so old and so quaint (although I dislike that word) that I drove around a while and found it was almost hidden in a forest of gigantic Pine trees. On one street, I noticed 4 little houses in two rows of four and the front unit had a For Rent Sign on the corner of the unit. A man was sitting on the front porch (the only one that had a front porch I discovered later). "Which unit is for rent and are you the owner?" "No, but I represent the owner when a unit is for rent. It's No. 5 that's for rent. If you're interested I'll go inside and get the key. You can look at it by yourself." "Please" When he got out of his chair, I noticed he waked with a severe limp. The unit/apartment is easy to describe. It consisted of 3 rooms, bedroom at one end, kitchen at the other and a living room in the middle - all approximately 16 ft. x 12 ft. making the overall size 36 ft. x 16 ft. All of the windows were at the ends or on the side of the entry door. On the side opposite the entry door was a shed roof addition the full length of the unit that housed, off the bedroom, a large in closet with a washbasin vanity. The closest was also the access way to a bathroom with shower, toilet and a hot water heater. The bathroom did have it's own window. On the kitchen end was a porch with the upper half of the walls screened in with screen cloth. The inside had been cleaned and painted a stark white with semi-gloss paint; the plumbing fixtures, kitchen range and fridge were antiques. The carpet and linoleum floors had lasted far beyond their best days. In one word the place looked tacky, but I liked it. It would be a snap to maintain. It would be a change of lifestyle and a change of pace for me and was still just a short drive to San Francisco and easy to lock up and leave when I did decide to go to Europe. Mainly, though, it was like a hideaway. Jim, the guy in the front unit, said it rented for $500.00 a month (unbelievably inexpensive for the area); the sign had been up for only an hour but if I was interested, I better walk across the street to Fat Buehler's house and give him a deposit check, because they rented like hot cakes. "What's Mr. Buehler's real first name?" "I don't know. Just call him Fats, everyone else does, or Mr. Buehler if you prefer." Fats agreed to rent it and I gave him a check, found a café, had lunch and went back to talk to Mr. Buehler some more. I asked him if it would be all right if I did some improvements to the property, like new plumbing fixtures, new floor coverings, repainting, adding a freestanding carport, enclosing the porch with glass and adding combination storm-screen doors on the doors and most likely I'd also have a dishwasher, microwave and a stack washer-dryer installed. "That sounds like a lot of money, Mr. Townsend. It's OK with me. Do you want to lease instead of rent?" I ended up signing a year's lease with an option to renew. I asked him if he could recommend a carpenter, painter, electrician and plumber "You're unit is No. 5. Directly across the driveway is No. 6. A guy by the name of Frank Walton lives there. He and his son do almost every thing except plumbing and electrical. If he isn't home I'll give you his phone number. He was home and so was his son. They were personally neat and clean but just the peek I got in the door indicated their house was a total shambles. I think that is why he and his son stepped outside to talk to me. Frank was in his fifties I guessed and must be an older father. The kid, Randy, looked to be in his late teens; he was really something to look at, fair complexioned, really long, golden blonde hair and his bright blue eyes sparked under black eyebrows - quite a combination. I took them over to Unit 5, for which I now had a key, and went through what I wanted to do. He said he'd worked a lot of jobs with Mountain Plumbing and Bill's Electrical. He'd get a fixture catalog from Mountain for me to look at next time I was here. Frank wanted $25.00 an hour and $15.00 an hour for Randy (again unbelievably cheap). He said he could start tomorrow if I could be up here again so soon. I told him "time is what I have the most of right now." He said he had one more question - did I want him to frame in the 6 ft. wide openings between the 3 rooms and hang doors to separate them. I told him no because it made the space look larger and the in-wall gas heater in the living room probably was more effecting if there were no doors. On the way home I wondered if Randy was really a son. The next day I learned they lived together because Frank had been divorced for ten years, his wife had recently died of cancer, which necessitated Randy moving in with his dad. The remodeling seemed very minor but lasted for 2 months - the plumber, electrician and carpet/flooring store were always too busy to come exactly when you wanted them. I spent a lot of time in Apex while the work was going on and also decided what I wanted that had belonged to Vicki, 2 tall bookcases, the 32 inch TV from the library and the cabinet with VCR/CD storage cabinet that the TV rested on, a highboy chest of drawers and 2 small scale upholstered chairs, 3 end tables, a small coffee table and some lamps. I'd buy a trundle bed, a computer desk and Danish leather, lounge chair with footstool plus a 2-seat sofa. The bed, highboy computer desk and the lounge chair were for the bedroom. I was choosing things that took up vertical space but minimal horizontal space. The flooring and the repainting with flat paint in colors of my choice and the flooring were the last items to be finished. I'd already arranged for a small moving van and in another 10 days I was all unpacked and settled in. My realtor had my phone and cell phone numbers but Carolyn was the only person that had my P O Box No and my 604 Pine Street address as well as my telephone numbers. In my goings and comings, I noticed that there were always 6 or more men of various ages, including underage boys plus 2 girls who lived together in one of the units, standing or sitting around Jim's porch - all drinking beer and sometimes even hard liquor. It got so I kidded Jim that he had the only outdoor bar in town, which, by the way had 2 places to buy beer and 4 bars. At times Jim's bar got beyond just being lively. I was surprised they got away with it - drinking in public, that sort of stuff. Jim kept insisting that I come over, so one evening I took a six-pack and joined them. Jim introduced me for what good it did - the crowd varied each evening. Frank and Randy were sometimes there as well as a guy Frank introduced to me named Richard North - a guy my height, a good head of medium-long, brown hair that was well combed and brown eyes, always dressed in blue jeans or black denim pants and a T-shirt, either white or colored and heavy work shoes. He undoubtedly classified as handsome and he and Randy were the only two I'd so far discovered that were worth looking at other than the school boys that you saw in the two, small markets, or else lived near by. Most of the locals were bearded or unshaven, rough looking, mountain types. The local women were even less attractive. Richard, like Frank, was an odd-jobs carpenter - but didn't seem to work as often as Frank and Randy did. One evening, in late September, I had just put a tri-tip roast into the oven for supper and went to the closer of the two markets to get a quart of ice cream for desert. Turning into the driveway and passing Jim's, Randy hailed me and asked me to come back and join the party. I told him my dinner was too near ready, why didn't he come over and eat with me. "Can Richard come, too?" I pulled into the carport and they were right behind me, beers in hand. I asked them what they wanted to drink, Randy opted for another beer which I tossed to him from the fridge and Richard said Bourbon if I had it, so I put out two glasses on the kitchen table, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a bottle of Black Label Scotch and told Richard to help himself to ice-cubes and mixes from the fridge when he needed more. Normally Richard had been friendly around me in a quiet, almost shy, sort of way. After one drink he got up and headed for the bathroom, all the units were the same so he knew where to find it. The minute he was out of the room Randy got up to prepare the broccoli while I sliced potatoes intending to make my version of potatoes au gratin in the microwave. Suddenly I felt his hand on my ass and he whispered, "I guessed you might be gay but with my dad always around I could never ask you. "Do you like men?" "Sure, especially teenage boys." "Nice, but be extra careful in this town where boys are concerned. We can have some fun with Richard later on though if you're interested." "I'm interested" and we returned to fixing dinner. After a second round, Randy set the table while I carved the roast and put the food on the table. The roast was devoured, demolished and disappeared. I couldn't believe how the two of them ate. They must have been really hungry - if not starving. Richard reneged on the ice cream but poured himself another bourbon. The conversation picked up again, Richard talking about his marriage, divorce, the bars in town he gotten kicked out of and the cars he'd owned; nothing too deep, believe me, but I managed to appear interested and kept my end going. He was more talkative than I'd ever known him to be. After about three hours, still drinking, still at the kitchen table, Richard slowly wound down until he was saying nothing - like an old, pendulum clock that had wound down, pendulum stopped, no more tick-tock sounds. I couldn't figure it out. He reached for the Jack Daniels, poured some in his glass, and swallowed it as if it were in a shot glass. He surprised the shit out of me when he reached into a pocket of his jeans and pulled out 2 pairs of handcuffs and put them on the table. My mouth literally dropped open. Very calmly, Randy spoke up, "Richard do you want to be taken care of now?" Richard nodded indicating he did. "Then push your chair back away from the table." Randy put both of his arms through separate spindles in the back of the chair and handcuffed his wrists. Next he unzipped Richard's pants and eased them out from between his butt and the seat of the chair, pulled them down to the floor and then used the remaining pair, opening only one of the cuffs and locked it around Richard's shaft and balls like an improvised cockring. The other cuff dangled to one side, unopened. When Randy stepped back, away from Richard, I saw Richard was looking directly into my eyes and I returned the look. I guess he was trying to confirm that I was in favor of the game, that Randy had explained it to me. (Randy had told me we could have some fun with Richard, but had given me no specifics. I still didn't know what the game was about but I was more than eager to learn. It had been months since I'd even as much as seen a cock other than my own.) As soon as the two of us quit looking into each other's eyes, I focused on his huge cock. His body, what you could see of it from the bottom of his T-shirt and his legs were hairy - he was lean but had nice muscles, there was no doubt that he was a man I wouldn't want to anger. His cock and balls were the exception to his hairy, lower body - both had been cleanly shaved. His cock was equivalent to mine in length and even thicker, although not yet erect; his balls were quite small, which made his cock seem even bigger. Randy had him scoot his body forward to the front edge of the chair and then he reached down and pulled the foreskin back to expose Richard's large cockhead. The mere touch of a hand playing with his foreskin sufficiently excited him to start erecting - a process which I loved to watch because I found it extremely erotic. "Jase, lets you and I grab the table and move it over toward the kitchen cabinets then close the blinds and you go get a pillow to kneel on." I was now certain of the role I was to play - at least to get things started - I was going to suck that big cock of Richard's, which had been such a nice surprise - a wonderful, beautiful surprise - it would be the biggest cock I'd ever sucked. Randy was almost naked when I returned with the pillow. "Jase, you better strip, too. It makes things more comfortable and Richard likes to look at guys' cocks while he's being serviced. I was about to go down on Richard when Randy asked him if he rather move into the living room and sit on the couch explaining he could sit down first and Richard could lean up against him. Maybe he'd be more comfortable." So, we all moved to the living room. I knelt before Richard, between his wide spread legs and without touching him otherwise, lowered and turned my head so that I was able to take his now enlarged cockhead into my mouth and I held it there for a few seconds before proceeding upward on his shaft. With his cockhead in my mouth, I began tenderly fondling his smooth shaved balls I loved fondling a man's balls, the ball sac just had to be the smoothest skin in the world. Finally I started to suck his cock in earnest. Never had I enjoyed sucking a cock so much. My homosexual, carnal desires were running away with me. His cock was so big that sucking it elevated the experience to a newer, higher plateau than I had ever been before. Meanwhile Randy let his long hair fall over Richards face while he pinched his nipples and kept telling him what a handsome man he was, how perfect his huge cock was, how good I was making it. To my disappointment, Randy wanted to change positions with me. I didn't sit so Richard could lean against me but knelt beside him on the love seat and, to my surprise, he began frantically kissing me. (Randy told me later that he had never kissed him.) "OK, Jase, your turn again. I just wanted to have a taste. I've sucked him off before; he's all yours now. Take him. The switch had been none too soon. Richard's cum started pouring into my mouth. After I'd swallowed it all and milked his cock for the last drop, I pulled off and his saliva slicked cock gleamed even after it returned to a flaccid state. "Shit, Randy, he's so drunk we'll never get him home." "Leave him here. Just spread a sheet on the floor along with a blanket and a pillow." "I can do better than that. I've got a double bed sized air mattress and a pump to blow it up. After we'd gotten Richard onto the mattress it was soon apparent that we both had raging hardons. I guess we were both sucked out because we each took a step closer together, grabbed each other's cock and started masturbating the other as we kissed. Randy got dressed, thanked me for the dinner and beer, gave me one last kiss and waked home. I went to bed but couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of Richard lying in the next room on the air mattress. I couldn't resist, I got up and turned on a light on in the closet which reflected some amount of light into the living room; I knelt on the floor beside the mattress, pulled back the covering sheet and blanket. His cock, totally flaccid was still 6 inches. With a thumb and a forefinger I skinned back his foreskin to look at his cockhead - it was so big, so exciting even to look at. Half on and half off the air mattress I sucked his cock to erection but knew I would never get him to shoot again. After returning to bed I still couldn't sleep. Richard's cock had me hard again, so I returned to the air mattress, laid down along side him, took his flaccid cock into my left hand and while holding it masturbated until my balls emptied for the second time in an hour and a half. I returned to bed and finally succumbed to sleep. When I awoke Richard was gone. I saw him the next evening at Jim's and he acted like nothing had happened between us. He had been so drunk that I wondered if he even remembered being in my house the night before. I only stayed about half an hour at Jims and Richard walked with me back to my unit. He asked if he could move in with me until he found a job. I told him I just couldn't agree to that and told him about Mickey, how he'd disappeared and how I kept waiting and hoping that he'd return. TO BE CONTINUED . just asked them to take her to one close and have the mortician call me on arrival. That afternoon, he came to the house personally, wanted me to select clothing for Vicki, asked who was our minister, when could I come to the mortuary to pick a casket, what their services included, methods of payment - all that shit at a time you least needed it. Naturally it all brought back grandpa and grandma funerals plus, strangely, a book the title of which I'd always thought odd and therefore remembered - one I had seen in one of grandma's bookcases -"The High Cost of Dying". It again came back to me what Vicki had said a few weeks ago and I told Mr. Brandon, the mortician, I wanted a closed casket service and I didn't think my wife would have liked everyone who came to the funeral to have to follow her hearse and watch her being lowered into the ground, so I'd like that to be private and the next afternoon. When the mortician left, I called Mrs. Voss and told her what happened, Mickey wouldn't need to work Saturday and asked if he could come over after school just to see me. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Townsend, she was such a nice young girl. I really am. And, I'll send Mickey right over if he doesn't stop there on his way home. That boy thinks the world of you Mr. Townsend." No sooner had I said, "I think the world of Mickey, too" than I started to cry and had to hang up. Mickey did come over, went back home and returned with pajamas and a bathrobe. His mother told him it would be nice if he'd spend the night over here as she was sure I'd need someone around for the first night and maybe even for several nights. Mickey was here when Fr. Kruger, a priest from St. Mary's came and he was still here when a reporter from the local newspaper came. She said she knew Vicki's family, where she'd gone to college and where she worked but could I give her a little bit of my background to complete the obituary. The church was more crowded than I thought it would be - local friends of the family, people from Vicki's office and even Jack Mooney, Dick and Jeannie came. Luckily, and taking the advice of the catering service, I overestimated the number that would come to the house after the funeral for a buffet lunch and beverages (the caterer recommended hard as well as soft beverages). Catherine (Mrs. Voss) was really gracious and kind - totally the opposite of her husband. She insisted Mickey stay with me for two nights following the funeral. She didn't know we'd been sleeping in the same bed. Not that we were fooling around, but I tell you nothing helped me as much through this ordeal as having him to sleep with, an arm slung around him and cuddled up to his back. There was food left over and the caterer put it in some of my dishes and containers. That is what Mickey and I had for dinner. I had several drinks while the funeral attendees were here. After dinner, Mickey asked if he could have a beer. I stuck with Scotch and sodas. Anyway, we got off onto a minor toot. He had a way of coming out with things (sometimes the wildest things) and I now knew him well enough to know if I just let him continue he'd eventually get to the heart of what he was going to say. While he was on his third beer, and we were talking instead of watching TV and out of the blue, he asks, "Jase, I think I know, but what exactly is a lesbo?" It was my turn to damn near choke. "Why do you want to know?" "Well, I just do. Come on, just tell me." "Have you heard the word homosexual?" "Yea, and I know what is means - it's what we are." "Homosexual is a term that is applied only to men. Women who like women are referred to as Lesbians. Lesbo is slang for lesbian, as homo is slang for homosexual. " "That's kinda what I thought it meant. Around these small towns if guys don't have a girlfriend in high school guys start calling them gays or homos. If girls don't have a boyfriend in high school, guys start calling them lesbos." "High school age young people can be cruel, sometimes. Not much has changed since I was in high school, though." "Yea, and I think the girls are shittier about it than the guys." I responded with, "I believe your right" thinking the conversation was at an end but he came right back with, "How can a lesbo have sex with another lesbo?" "How would I know?" "Well, I don't know if I should tell you or not but lots of the tongue wagers around town thought Ms. Logan was a lesbian. I just kinda thought maybe you'd know." I was halfway getting angry with him but told myself to cool it. I loved him so much and love called for patience and letting some things pass without getting angry. Besides, I knew he was leading up to something. "Damn, Mickey, this is getting sort of embarrassing and somewhat beyond my knowledge, but I'll try. (Thinking and hoping maybe he'd accept a general kind of answer and forget the whole thing.) I imagine that as male penises and testicles sexually excite homosexuals, vaginas and breasts excite lesbians." "Yea, I guessed that much, but how can they do anything. You know, men can suck cock and I know some guys like to fuck other guys in the backside. But girls don't have anything sticking out between their legs to play with and I guess I don't know but I can't see that some girl could get off just by having another girl rub her tits." "Mickey, just how far do you want me to get into this subject?" "Tell me all you know about it. That would be just fine." The little shit. I was falling deeper and deeper into his trap and I didn't know how to get out of it, which I didn't want to do because I was afraid I'd piss him off.