IN HIS FATHER'S HOUSE - 11

Copyright 2011 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. However based on real events and places, “In His Father's House” is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl_mason@verizon.net

In addition to numerous articles on the problems faced by juveniles incarcerated in adult prisons - especially those sentenced to life sentences without the possibility of parole - the author is especially indebted to three books: Santos, Michael G., Inside, Life Behind Bars in America (New York: St. Martin's Griffin edition, 2007); Parsell T. J., Fish, A Memoir of a Boy in a Man's Prison (Cambridge, MA; Da Capo Press, 2006); and Gagnon, Robert J. 053803, Life at Fifteen, updated ed. (np; Robert J. Gagnon-Paperback, 2006). Echoes of each will be heard in my story that follows.

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to the "Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, please respect yourself and those around you by practicing safe sex.

CHAPTER 11

(Revisiting Chapter 10)

As with the father, so with the son. Jeb Taylor might not always admit it, but he recognized the truth when he heard it.

(Concluding Our Story: Tangled Wires)

It was around ten o'clock the next morning when Jeb - shivering in ill-fitting shorts and a summer shirt - walked into the sunny living room of Uncle Hank's cabin. Hank, splayed out in an overstuffed chair, looked up at he entered. "Ah, Jeb..." he began awkwardly. "Whoa, dad," the powerfully-built eighteen year old replied. "What I've done is... inexcusable. Worse, I'm about to add insult to injury. Gotta lie down before I fall down... Will you...please...forgive me if I get a little sleep before we talk? I promise that I'll provide a few answers before the day is out. Please?" Hank gestured across his body with his hand, ending by pointing up the stairs. Jeb came over, kissed Hank on the cheek...and turned away. "Thanks, dad," he murmured thickly as he stumbled up the stairs.

***

"There was no excuse for not phoning you last night," Jeb exclaimed forcefully as he made his way back into the living room. (A clock in a nearby room chimed 4:00 p.m.) "Just no excuse..." Hank was still splayed out on the upholstered chair, seemingly without having moving a muscle. He looked pretty wrung out, though, in all honesty, the blond didn't look much better, despite nearly four hours of sleep. "When a neighbor found your clothes beside Red Oak Creek," Hank mused, "I must admit that I felt like joining you. When I received a phone call from the police a little less than an hour later, however, and they told me who had picked you up, I didn't know what to feel...or think. (Pause.) You're eighteen, Big Guy. Anything you want to share with me?" [Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know. In many families this would be unrealistic. In Hank's case, however, he is already feeling extreme guilt about the news he must soon lay on Jeb.]

"Truth is, dad, I remember almost nothing from the time I left home until the time that I saw who was sitting behind the wheel of that big Jaguar. Maybe I remember beginning to slip on that bridge railing. Dunno... When my vision suddenly cleared and I did see, I didn't quite know what to feel or think either!" "Did he ream you out again about God's rejection of homosexuality?" Hank asked. "No, sir," came the youth's reply - He treated me ok - And I was maybe more surprised than you that he didn't scream about homosexuality!" "No accountin'"...mumbled a highly relieved brother.

Jeb felt dishonest, and unappreciative for having finessed Hank's questions on homosexuality. The simple fact was that after a supposed friend's throwing that newspaper article and picture in his face last night, he just couldn't handle any part of the whole damned mess. He would do so...but only when his equipment wasn't overheated, quivering, and yowling for more!

"I had a few difficult moments last night, too," Hank said in a more natural voice. "Nothing like you had to go through, of course. Virginia called. Reconstruction in P-ville has nearly ground to a halt. The idiots they hired simply haven't been up to the task. The lady asked me to come down as a "consultant". I have to tell you, Jeb, I hate to leave right now. You're right in the middle of working through the transition between adolescence and adulthood. It's difficult for most men...and you've got your special problems. A father can be of considerable help at this time, and the thought of running out on you leaves me feeling pretty miserable."

 "Dad!"Jeb all but howled. "For heaven's sake, you'll be all of 50 miles away! Do you have so little confidence in me...or in yourself? Come on! In this life, you do what you gotta do and help others as best you can! You're doing fine, and I know that I'll continue to have your help and counsel. Let's not chew on this bone any longer! Heah?" "Yeah, Jeb, I hear," Hank responded with a grimace. He allowed a little glint to return to his eyes as he said jokingly, "Needless to say, Muscles, I'll obey. Best I head down at first light."

(A Master at Work)

Hank hadn't been out of the house ten minutes before the phone rang. Devon... Jeb wondered if the guy had private investigators working for him who kept designated subjects under surveillance. Asked what he was doing, his tart answer was, " Hell! I just got back to sleep! It's still dark outside!" Ok...ok...he was glad to hear from him...even if it was the middle of the night! And YES! He'd replied enthusiastically, he'd love to have dinner with him. No, sir, he'd added, never been there. Great! He'd be ready at seven.

Devon Taylor wined and dined his son at a fine table in a superb restaurant. A waiter was at their exclusive beck and call at all times. While they were still enjoying specialties of the house, Devon commented in passing that he'd already begun rehabilitating Jeb's reputation. Jeb had rather suspected this was true. The last two times he had been in Gold Star, shopkeepers and others seemed to have a much more positive attitude towards him. It was...nice not to be treated like a predatory murderer!

Returning home, his host and very proud father suggested a little massage. In the World Series that would have been a home run. Indeed, Jeb greeted it with much the same enthusiasm with which he had welcomed the Ritz Carrigan's superb "Banana Foster" for dessert! For beginners, he looked up at Devon, leered, and asked if his dad minded if he "took it all off "! Inasmuch as Devon didn't exactly object, a spectacularly built, 188 lb, six-foot tall, blond 18 year old - naked as the day he was born - soon positioned his buttocks on his dad's lap before stretching his full length out on the long couch they shared.

As Devon's index finger left his face and began following the beautifully defined contour of a solid pec, the boy closed his eyes and moaned with erotic pleasure. When two fingers grasped the nipple between them and began gently manipulating it, he began quietly to groan and move ever so slightly on Devon's lap. Nor did this cease when he turned his attention to the opposite pec. Slowly exploring fingers moved downwards to the lines of rigid abs and thence to the flat plain of Jeb's lower stomach underlaid by layers of thick, powerful muscles. Devon then provided a minute or two of comic relief by tickling the youngster's prominent Apollo's Belt - but Jeb knew more was coming and, indeed, it was.

Moistened with a few drops of the finest oil, the pads of two fingers gently rubbed the smooth skin above the boy's cock. Picking up the massive piece of uncut flesh, Devon began slowly kneading it between his two oiled hands. As the lad's cock snapped to rigid attention, thickening and lengthening as he watched admiringly, he was able to lift his long scrotum and gently massage it and the treasures it contained. At this point, Jeb began an unbroken groaning and moaning as the movement and heat of his buttocks brought Devon closer and closer to his own red line! Flushed, the teen's glorious body broke out in sweat as he began pumping precum and pleading with Devon to let him cum. The thoroughly aroused youngster would be forced to wait as Devon moved to his solid thighs, calves, and feet.

After working the last set of toes, Devon inquired, "That's it for now?" It appeared that it was damned well not "it for now" as Jeb rose, faced him, straddled his father's thighs, and began a kissing attack on every reachable part of his body. Devon was just about bowled over by its intensity. He finally slowed the Force-Four tornado when he snickered loudly and asked him if Jeb really wanted to miss the "best part" of the evening! "You're inviting me to stay overnight?" the grinning boy panted. "Don't worry, I'll be good. Just don't expect miracles! After all," he said with a rather phony sultry stare, "you wouldn't let me cum. It's your fault that I'm this horny!"

Clearly, when Devon had planned this evening, he'd been on a role! After the briefest of breaks, they climbed on top of Daddy's king-sized bed. Once securely dug in with extra pillows, snacks, and beer, they watched a classic BDSM movie that Devon had located on a trip to Paris. A reasonable observer might have questioned whether Jeb's open mouth would ever snap shut again. This was something that he had barely heard about before. This was something so salacious that his mammoth equipment never softened or stopped dripping during the entire performance! The rope...the bound muscles...the chains...twisting in the air like a side of meat ready for the butcher... muscular guys being disciplined...cock play...WOW! As an earlier teen, he'd decided that he was really SICK when he had fantasized some of these same things being done to him. Now he realized that with care they could be done safely...and with staggering results. WOW! The lad's eyes were so tightly glued to the TV screen that he rarely attended to Devon's words of translation - or even the fact that his father's lips had been planting light kisses on every part of his body. His attention became focused, however, as four guys in the film came to a crashing mutual orgasm, almost covering the face of the fifth with cum. At that exact moment, Devon took his son's pulsing cock. Moreover, for the very first time in his life, someone swallowed that monstrous tool all the way! FUCK! His dad's fingertips were kinda tickling his balls...and his throat muscles were doing things to his cock that should be illegal! He came with a great roaring scream and with a force that lifted 188 lbs of rigid flesh and bone a good foot off the bed!

Later that evening, as Jeb lay with his head tucked comfortably into the space between his dad's neck and his shoulder, he tried to tell the "old man" what the film had done to him. "Any chance, sir, that we could get into some of that action ourselves?" Devon chuckled, asking the big blond when he had ever been able to refuse him anything. In this case, he had a friend who lived way out in the country. In the basement of his house, he had built his own dungeon! Interested? The explosion that ensued resulted in one more orgasm before they turned to sleep. Quite an evening...

During the nearly three week period that Hank remained in P-ville - weeks when he rarely contacted Jeb - Devon and his son were...active. Unfortunately, their meetings were rarely as successful as that of the first night. Clearly, there was a "control" issue here that extended well back into the father-son relationship through childhood and early adolescence. Hearing his Master's voice, the lad was expected immediately to drop whatever he was doing and follow directions. For instance, it became increasingly difficult to get enough sleep when he was phoned on most nights at one, two, four, even five o'clock in the morning! Further, the youngster simply rejected taking an exclusively submissive sexual role. He was neither a "boy toi" nor did he have the slightest intension of becoming one. Jeb also had serious problems with the pain that Devon seemed to enjoy administering during their frequent use of the neighbor's dungeon. These irritations - irritations that Devon was rarely willing to discuss - finally led to a fierce argument that ended this phase of their relationship. They did agree to a "cooling off" period during which they would have continuing contact, but no sex.

(News from Parkersville and South)

Jeb remembered a particularly cold autumnal Friday night as he sat in Hank's study bemoaning the fact that sex with Devon wasn't on the weekend agenda. His spirits had been raised that afternoon, however, when he received a letter from Chaz at the State Prison. Generally, it was the usual chatty note between friends that talked about what mutual friends were doing, the current irritations in their lives, and hopes for the immediate future. Jeb was delighted to hear, for instance, that Popeye had been granted parole and been hired by a large company as a trainer. There had been a massive shakeup in Food Services. Those in charge had finally been caught using state money for prostitutes, expensive cars, and the like. (He could hear Chaz snorting as he wrote about a state inspector's observing one of the lowest-paid guards building a garage for the brand new Italian sports car that he had parked in front of his house!) There was also one big drug case that had seen some drugs get into the hands of prisoners. Jeb grunted... So far, there was little that was new. Perhaps the best news of the letter was that Chaz would be released in less than a month! Jeb had spent several hours getting a good reply off to his old buddy. Tested friends are few and far between!

Before the evening was over, he received a phone call from Hank in P-ville. Jeb immediately noticed his uncle's tension. He had "serious concerns" and asked Jeb to drive down in the next two or three days. After checking in at the small hotel recommended by Hank and finding his room, Jeb took a phone call and returned to the lobby. Rather than by Hank, he was greeted by Victoria Radzelti, the cultured, very lovely, middle-age woman who was the Director of the Parkersville Hospital. "Good morning, ma'am," he replied respectfully. "Stop that, Jeb! It's 'Victoria'. I can't afford to feel more ancient than I look! Now come with me. Let's enjoy lunch in the very nice little restaurant in this hotel."

His eyes sparkling as he sipped a delightful Napa Valley wine, the blond one smiled at his hostess approvingly. "Delightful, ma'a'm. Oops, sorry! Delightful, Victoria. (Pause.) Mind telling me why my uncle isn't around?" "Oh, he is...around, Jeb," the Director replied. It's just that he thought he might be winning a really complex battle that has refused to stay won for nearly five days. He asked me to greet you, a task that I count as a great pleasure." Nodding in thanks, Jeb asked, "You've had a few problems down here?" "Oh yes," his hostess replied. "Between citizens who can't see beyond their paunches, as well as people who hate work, government officials who are far more interested in looking good for the cameras than in solving citizen problems, 'experts' who are anything but - and the most viciously complicated set of technical conditions you have ever seen - we've had constant difficulties since we saw each other last." Smiling, but looking directly into Victoria's eyes, Jeb continued, "But that's not the main reason you greeted me, is it?"

Signaling for the waiter to clear the table, she inquired smoothly, "Ready for coffee and dessert, Jeb?" "Just coffee for me, please...regular, black," Jeb replied. Waiting until the coffee had been poured, she shifted her position slightly and continued, "No...not the main reason, but a real reason nonetheless. Hank wanted us to have a few minutes together. I think he senses the lack of tension between you and me...yes, the basic pleasantness and appreciation. It's just that he doesn't think that you would find those to be adequate reasons for supporting our wedding." (Long Pause.) "Perhaps not 'adequate', Victoria," the youngster replied cautiously, "but when added to the happiness that I suspect you could give each other, it surely seems enough to claim my wholehearted support." With that, Jeb reached over and gave Victoria a warm kiss on her cheek. The luncheon ended with mutual pleasantries and an agreement for all three of those concerned to meet for dinner that evening at Victoria's apartment in the upper town.

***

Dinner at Victoria's lovely apartment was a delight...personally. Although it was too early for the conversation to deal with deeper concerns, it did help Jeb to begin to better know an individual for whom Hank had long had deep feelings. The fact that Hank also had deep feelings for Jeb was, of course, part of the problem. While she didn't know all of the details at this point, Victoria was wise enough to sense these feelings and sufficiently mature to let Hank take the lead in working them out. Both men seized the opportunity on their walk back to Jeb's hotel.

After a little talk about nothing and quite a bit of strained silence, Jeb stopped in front of the hospital. In a weary voice, he suggested that they sit for a few minutes in the little park from which they had observed the flood. As soon as they had settled themselves on a bench in a relatively private corner of the park, the blond one began. "Hank, I thought I had good reason to assume you were gay." Hank sighed, responding, "I guess we should have had that 'cards on the table' discussion earlier. You did have good reasons, Jeb...plenty of them. I could not possibly regret hurting you more than I do at this moment. It's just that there are many things you don't know about me. For instance, Victoria and I go way back. In fact, we go back to elementary school in the lower town." Jeb interrupted sharply, "You're not gay, are you?" "Well, Muscles, I have always been concerned about skating so close to the line. I guess the term 'bisexual' is probably closer to the truth, but it's not perfect. It's also true that Victoria was my first love...and, though she was a little older than I, I was hers. After I had farted around for a couple of years after high school, never willing to commit, she finally married an Italian lawyer. It just about destroyed me. He died about five years ago, leaving her quite comfortable."

Abruptly stopping his monologue, Hank took a more aggressive tack with Jeb. "Tell me, Muscles, you aren't possibly arguing that a man has to be gay to be a dad, are you?" "Huh?" the increasingly confused and discouraged teen mumbled. "Let me tell you why I ask," Hank continued, feeling himself on firmer ground. "Nobody's going to question that a male must provide a sperm for the female's egg to be fertilized. That's what they call a 'necessary' condition. My question asks whether it's also a 'sufficient' condition... and I say NO! The love and support, the role modeling and so much more - especially with the male child - have a massive effect on his personality. If the father is little more than a sperm-donor, the kid's in deep shit! Now listen to me...listen to me carefully, son. I love you - in all ways that it's possible to love. As an 'adult dad', I want to help you get firmly on the adult track. Among other things, that means being someone with whom you can talk and get advice. Hopefully, it will be better advice than from many other men, gay or straight, who are basically interested in selling you a house or a car - or, maybe, just getting into your jeans. It may mean providing some help with needed education or training...or that first job. For us, it may mean occasional sex. It also means having the guts to place increasing control over final decisions in the hands of his son. That's a dad's role with a guy of your age, Sport - and it's a role I want to fulfill...with you...because I love you.

Jeb sat, his head bowed. There was just the suggestion of the faintest sniffle or two. Finally, he raised his head, looked directly into Hank's eyes, smiled warmly, and joked, "Hey, man. How could I be so lucky as to have two real dads? Naturally, there was much more discussion, over many days, but the upshot was that Jeb agreed to serve as Hank's best man at his wedding, and Hank accepted the role of one of the big blond's "adult dads".

(Epilogue)

Chaz arrived. Initially, he seemed delighted by the possibility of a long-term relationship and a job, plus training and/or education, but it only lasted a couple of weeks. He had been incarcerated for several years and, given his personality, he needed to stretch his wings and fly. Jeb and Hank actually helped him out with a little cash...and sent him off with some clothes and good hiking boots. While Chaz was reluctant to accept it,

Devon - controlling as always - provided him with a bus ticket to his announced destination, L.A.

After long discussions, Jeb asked Hank if he could help him arrange a construction job that would keep him in the area. Inasmuch as both dads offered free housing for six months (in one of several properties that they owned in the area), Jeb accepted Devon's offer of a simple apartment in a downtown area of Gold Star. In time, after both Victoria's and Hank's deaths, he would receive the lodge, as well as other segments of Hank's estate. For the time being, he chose to delay any further education or training until he had gotten on top of the construction job. Hank told him straight out that he'd get nothing for free, but he could move up in any of his companies on merit. While at a gay club in the capital city, comments were made about Jeb's promise as a model. Subsequently, he asked Devon if he could help locate something in the city that was legit and liked the kind of talent he offered. Over a three year period, he assembled quite a portfolio! (They continued BDSM work just for fun. One night when they were enjoying a beer, Jeb did comment to Hank that Devon squealed like a pig! Nevertheless, neither dad was ever played off against the other.) In time, the blond one hoped that he would meet someone with whom he was compatible and whom he loved. He knew he was supersensitive to "control" issues, but he continued working on them. In the meantime, he would continue to enjoy sex as opportunities presented themselves, including, most assuredly, with both Devon and Hank!

THE END