Date: Thu, 11 May 2000 14:42:33 EDT
From: VicHowel@aol.com
Subject: The Learning Season - Chapter 2

THE LEARNING SEASON - Chapter 2 - by Dave MacMillan

Richard Dailey sat on the curb fronting the Bellhaven strip mall and waited
for a fat woman to get off the public call box.  He was blind to the cars
cruising through the expanse of macadam that was the car park.  He stared
at the rundown buildings beyond which housed the flat he'd always called
home.  Only, it wasn't home any more.  His mother'd seen to that earlier in
the afternoon - before she passed out.

He had everything he could carry in the three paper bags sitting on the
walk beside him. He glanced over his shoulder at the call box but the fat
woman was still running her mouth to somebody.  He covered his eyes with
his hands and sought to escape from the ignominy of being kicked out of his
own home by a fucking drunken woman.

It wasn't just Mom, though.  Trouble any more seemed to come in double
helpings.  And he sure was getting those doubled helpings all at the same
time - in spades.  He was a fucking queer in addition to being homeless.

Two weeks ago, he'd been just another straight kid with no dad and a mother
who drank too much.  At least, that was how he'd seen himself.  Just a
regular guy who wasn't getting any of the pussy everybody else claimed they
were getting.

He'd just started at the customizing shop too and that was his undoing in a
nutshell.  Ron had been there at the time clock sticking his hand out to
Rich, welcoming him to the job.  The other man's image jumped onto the
stage that was Rich's mind, taking it over with its presence.

With a short wag of his head, Rich rejected his resistance to thinking
about the other man now it was too late, forcing himself to see what he'd
been trying to avoid for longer than he could remember.  It sure as shit
didn't matter - not any more!  Only, the image was no longer just that of
the other man; it was of both of them - him and Ron, alone and together.

He was undressing the man, nuzzling his smooth chest like the boys were
always doing to each other in Vic Marshall's fuck flicks.  His hands were
exploring the other man's body - his asscheeks and his crotch through the
denim of his jeans.  Then, the jeans weren't there and Ron was standing
before him naked.

He was naked too.  Only, he was lying back, his hand between his legs and
encircling the man's cock as Ron settled himself into a direct shot into
his ass.  His eyes were wide with desire as he raised his legs and dropped
them over the blond man's shoulders.

Ron's cock was there just under his balls, still gripped in his hand as he
continued to direct it to his ass.  He could feel his desire for it - for
what it was going to do for him.  And he could not remember wanting
anything as bad as he wanted that cock inside him.

The fat woman touched his shoulder, jerking Rich back into reality.
Embarrassed, he felt his erection straining against his cut-offs as he
nodded numbly to the woman.  He waited until she had left him before rising
and walking over to the open call box.

* * *

The telephone on his desk rang as he was slipping on his jacket.  "Marshall
here!" Vic snapped into the receiver as it came close to his mouth, the
tone of his voice making it clear he wasn't going to spend a whole lot of
time at four thirty on a Friday afternoon talking to anybody.

The office was a cubbyhole, a desk with two chairs before it.  But that was
all his business needed.  He had a window overlooking Roosevelt Island in
the Potomac River; it was a place he could write and not be disturbed
because the communal receptionist intercepted the calls and the hundreds of
interruptions that'd made it impossible for him to work at home.  It was
there he brought out the newsletter eleven months a year that kept the
fishing industry informed of what the Congress was doing to and for it and
him in financial comfort.

"Mr. Mar ... Vic-" The voice was young and masculine, and Vic was
momentarily at a loss to recognize it.  "This is Rich Dailey."

Vic's curiosity was suddenly piqued.

Rich was his son's best friend.  The two boys had been the best of buddies
since before they were ten.  Vic had become a substitute father and, even,
a big brother to the Dailey boy over the past eight years.  However, Rich
had never - not once - called him.  Not at home and, definitely, not at the
office.

"I was just leaving," he offered, his tone gentler.  "What's up, kiddo?"

"Could you stop by here on your way home?"  There was obvious strain in the
man's voice, and he quickly guessed the youth was having trouble with his
mother again.

"Sure, I guess so - give me about an hour."  He heard the boy sigh.  "I've
got to fight the Friday Georgetown traffic, Rich - it'll take me thirty
minutes just to make it to the Key Bridge.  You okay?"

"Yeah.  Uh - Vic, I'll meet you at the gas station in the mall up the
street from the flat, okay?"

"Sure.  See you then."  Vic hung the phone up quickly, shut the door behind
himself and stepped into the common reception room.  He told himself that
the kid sounded like he was really in hot water this time and that he was
glad he'd called him.  As he waited for the lift, he permitted his mind to
conjure up a picture of his son's best friend.

Rich at eighteen was a shade short of six feet.  His hair was short,
auburn, and straight; and his eyes were violet.  Rich Dailey was slim -
almost skinny as only teenaged boys can be; but it looked good on him.  His
face was long and angular, with high cheekbones.  In appearance, the boy
had the look of a promising yearling at his first starting gate.  The
nicest thing about the boy, Vic decided, was that he was just a good,
all-around person.  Gentle was the word that came to mind.

Before Dave moved in with his father, when Vic was still pick-ing his son
up every other weekend, Rich was with them half of the time.  He'd easily
acclimated to the boy and had grown fond of him quickly.  The Dailey boy
became the only one of Dave's friends who knew Vic was gay.  He was also
the only one the man had ever had sexual fantasies about.  The boy seemed
to accept the older man's homosexuality easily enough but was always
maintained he was straight and Vic had always honored the boy's
protestations.

* * *

Rich'd eased the paper bags containing his clothes out of the flat and
pulled the door closed behind him.  He tested it to make sure it was
locked, wanting his mom and Christie safe - even if Ruby had just thrown
him out of the only home he'd ever known.

She was drunk again.  It seemed she stayed that way any more - ever since
that last pig'd left her almost a month ago.  He wrinkled his nose in
disgust at the memory of the fat, balding man.

Rich couldn't understand what it was about his mother.  She had always
brought home losers - big time losers any more.  Maybe it was the
barhopping; maybe they looked better when she was drinking.  But, that
still didn't explain why she was always letting them stay.  On and on.
Eating the Daileys out of house and home.  Taking and never giving.  At
least, though, she'd always been pretty careful.

She'd only slipped the once that he knew about.  That'd been when he was
ten; and he'd ended up with his little sister as a result.  The girl had
always been as sweet as she could be though; and he'd managed to survive
all the crap the other kids at school had given him about his unwed mother
and his baby sister.  He'd survived it all right; he just hadn't had any
friends left after that - except for Dave and his father.

This time Ruby Dailey'd gone too far, though.  She'd been on this drunk for
more than a week without a break.  Her boss was hinting she wasn't
indispensable when Rich called her in sick.  He didn't know what to do; but
he knew he wasn't going to give his mother any more of his money for booze.
There wasn't much as it was, and it didn't need to go for any more whiskey
for a woman who couldn't handle it.  That'd been what'd caused the argument
that had got him kicked out of the house.

He pulled up his shirttail and wiped his eyes as he heard Vic hang up the
receiver at his office.  He wasn't responsible for his mother - or for his
eight year old sister either for that matter.  He was only responsible for
himself.  He'd called the only person he knew who was both a friend and
family rolled into one.

Beyond spilling his guts to Vic, he didn't know what he was going to do and
was incapable of even trying to know any more - at least, until he could
sort it out in his head.  He knew he was going to offer himself to the
older man; and he hoped that would be enough.  He hoped Vic Marshall would
want him enough to protect him and even teach him now that he knew he was a
faggot too.

Nothing seemed to matter now.  Not since he started at the customizing
shop.  Jesus!  He'd been drooling five minutes after he'd clocked in that
first day.  Ron was able to do to him what no one had been able to since he
found out his cock was a multi-purpose part of his body.  He wanted Ron.
Pure and simple.  The man at work set off all the right chemical reactions
in his body.  He wanted to hold the man, to touch his naked body, to feel
him climbing between his legs, to hold him as he humped him.

He'd been shocked by his body's reaction to the blond, muscular man who
wasn't much older than he was and who wasn't even terrific looking.  He'd
been even more shocked by his realization of himself.

His shock had carried him through the past two weeks - even as his body
kept betraying him.  Through his initial denial and, then, his avoidance of
the other man.  Through his fear of being himself alone with Ron.  But it
was running out of steam fast.  He'd almost agreed to go for a couple of
beers with the guy only yesterday; it'd been hard as hell to say no.  But
he somehow had.  He could well imagine where that would get him - he'd lose
his cherry and it'd be all over at the shop he was queer - or he'd get
beaten up and it'd still get spread all over at work.  No, Ron was
definitely out.

Vic wasn't though.  And Rich realized he'd been working him-self toward
deciding that he was going to give himself to the older man ever since he'd
met Ron - if he still wanted him.  Vic was safe.  He was a good friend and
everything a guy should want in a lover.  Besides, he was pretty certain
that he was in love with the man.  Not just love like for a friend - or,
even, a father.  Really in love.  Once Ron had got him thinking about sex
and facing up to himself, he'd come to the realization of that.  And that
was a whole lot different than just wanting a hot body banging his virgin
ass.

* * * Vic pulled to a stop in front of the gas station.  He hadn't seen
* Rich in almost three weeks - not since Dave's high school graduation
* party.

The boy was sitting on the curb waiting for him.  He immediately saw the
dejection he'd sensed earlier on the telephone and it disturbed him.  The
kid was the most relaxed, easiest going guy he'd ever known - especially
around him.  Nothing ever seemed to phase him.  Or it hadn't.  But this boy
waiting for him wasn't the kid he'd known for so long.

As Rich stood slowly and began to walk toward the car, he thought he looked
as if he was threading his way through a mine field.  For the moment it
took him to reach the car, he could feel the boy's anguish and his
curiosity grew - but he promised himself he wasn't going to pry.

"Hi," he greeted him, keeping his tone light, as Rich opened the passenger
door of the Jaguar.  The boy mumbled something and collapsed onto the seat
beside the man.  "You all right?"

"Let's just get the hell out of here," Rich groaned, pulling the door
closed behind him, and sank back into his seat.

"Where to?" Vic asked, forcing his curiosity back.

"Your place - that is, if you don't mind?"

The man glanced over at him and saw the pleading in his eyes.  It was
getting hard not to press for answers to the questions forming in his mind.

"No problem.  Only, you know Dave's at his mother's through this month?"

"I know."  He looked down at his hands, his nervousness growing.  "Only,
I've got to get away this weekend - and, Vic, you're the only person I
know-" His voice trailed off as his whole attention appeared to be centered
on his hands.  "Christ!" the man yelped.  "Rich, you're family - you don't
have to ask."

He managed a wan smile and forced himself to look up and meet the older
man's searching eyes.  "I just know you make me feel better when I'm around
you - does that make any sort of sense to you?"

"It does.  And thanks, Rich."  Vic smiled at his son's friend reassuringly.
There was silence as they drove toward the city on Route One and exited
onto the Capital beltway, heading west toward McLean through the northern
Virginia suburbs.  It was more than a thirty minutes drive from Alexandria
to McLean; and it seemed longer with the silence between them deadening the
interior of the car.  The man glanced over at the boy beside him several
times but his son's friend seemed completely absorbed in his own thoughts.
He left him alone with them and slipped into his own plans for the
week-end.

His love life had been minuscule since his son had moved in with him seven
years earlier.  The only exception had been the year-long romance with Luke
Edwards that had turned sour two years ago.

Since then, he hadn't found anybody who could make him want to start all
over again.  The boy beside him had been the subject of a lot of lonely
night fantasies; but he had never seriously considered him.  It would have
been too much like taking candy from a baby to have tried.

Now, however, with his son bound for Harvard - and at his mother's for the
rest of the month - Vic had his time free, and he planned to do a bit of
reconnoitering for the future.

Rich kept glancing at the older man out of the corner of his eye.  He was
trying to see him in light of the new directions his life was beginning to
take.  The man was slim and young looking for forty-four; there wasn't much
grey in his hair yet and his jaw was still firm.  He did look good.  He was
actually better looking than Ron at work - in a distinguished sort of way
he couldn't quite describe.

He tried to imagine the man naked beside him - sucking his cock while he
was slurping on his.  He kept imagining musty-smelling sweat between the
man's legs like he'd smelled on himself.  The focus of his mind's
exploration changed and he was imagining a naked Vic Marshall leaning over
him, his cock hard as it sought his ass.  He hoped he'd be good and that
Vic would enjoy the sex with him when they got to it enough that he would
want to keep him around.

He felt himself growing hard and glanced to see if Vic'd noticed.  He
smiled to himself.  He definitely had to be queer if he was going to get
hard visualizing a man ramming his cock up his ass.  It could be worse - it
could be somebody other than the man sitting in the car beside him.

Rich climbed out of the car slowly and trudged toward the door, carrying
his bags in both arms.

Vic watched him and couldn't get rid of the image of a man trying to keep
up his courage as he walked toward his own execution.  "You okay?" he asked
again, catching up to the boy and unlocking the door for them. When he
turned to face him, Vic saw the tears welling up in his eyes and took a
step toward him.  "Come here," he said, his voice soft as he touched Rich's
arm and pulled him against him.

"Vic?"  The tears in his eyes began to roll down his cheeks and he clung
tightly to the man.

Vic held him against his chest, letting him cry.  Minutes passed before his
sobs began to subside.  "Let's get inside, guy," he offered gently.  The
youth nodded against his chest.  "You okay now?"

"Yeah," he answered, his voice jagged. "Not really, I guess - but it's
nothing that a couple of stiff drinks won't cure."  He turned a wan smile
on Vic and, then, disappeared into the house.

The man followed him inside and stopped at the entrance to the living room
to watch him pouring vodka into a glass.  Rich had been told he could drink
anything in the liquor cabinet - just as Dave could.  But this was the
first time Vic'd known of him taking advantage of that offer.

He glanced up at Vic watching him and smiled.  "You don't mind, do you?" he
asked.

"Just pour me one too - a Cape Cod."  He went on the stairs, taking them
slowly up to the second floor and his bedroom, pulling off his tie and
jacket as he moved.

Rich was sprawled out on the couch when he returned.  He glanced up at the
older man and, then, quickly looked back down at the glass he was holding
on his stomach.  "Yours is on the coffee table," he mumbled, not looking up
again.  "I'm on my second one already.  Think you can put up with a drunk
tonight?"

Vic sat down in the chair across from him and picked up his drink. "All
right, Rich, let's get it out into the open," he said using what he hoped
was his best paternal voice.

"What?" Rich asked innocently, still not looking up at the man.

"Whatever's bothering you.  Why are you lugging around those bags full of
clothes for instance?"

He sighed and turned pale.  Slowly, he brought his eyes up to meet Vic's.
"Mom's drunk and she's just kicked me out."

"Is there something I can do?  I mean, something more than your staying
here?"

"Yeah - maybe - but not this weekend."  He sighed again and rubbed his
eyes.  "I might as well get all of this shit in my head out in the open."

"You might as well."

"I've only had sex with one girl in my whole life."

The conversation had suddenly taken a direction Vic Marshall was not
prepared for.  His drink trembled in his hand and he put it back down on
the table beside him.

The boy sitting across from him was one who could have just about anybody
he wanted in bed.  Rich Dailey was that good looking.  Vic studiously kept
his eyes locked on his, staying away from the rest of his body.  The bare
chest showing behind the nearly unbuttoned shirt and the long muscular legs
below the cut-offs were a distraction with the advent of sex as a subject.
"That's probably not as unusual as you may think it is," Vic offered
lamely.

"There's this guy at my new job."  Vic's ears perked up; his long-held
suspicions about this boy seemed close to being confirmed.  "He - I can't
understand it!"  His eyes grew moist again. "There's just something about
him that makes me start imagining - you know, seeing him naked - doing it
with me and ... God, I'm wanting it to happen - I'm helping him."

"What's so bad about that?" Vic asked, barely successful at maintaining his
calm.

"I ... It's not supposed to be right." Rich groaned.

"For God's sake, Rich.  I'm gay - and you've known that for a long time.
There's nothing wrong with it."

"But I've always-" Rich glanced over at him, his violet eyes large and
imploring. "maybe - sidestepped it," he continued.  "Remember, I watched
what happened with you and that guy Luke two years ago?"

"Any relationship can collapse - look at the men in your mother's life.
Besides, who says you've got to have a relationship with somebody to be
happy?  Most people in relationships are actually pretty unhappy - that's
why there's so much infidelity.  And divorce."

"Yeah-" There was a resigned acceptance in the man's voice.  "It's just
that I never wanted-" He became absorbed in studying the drink in his hand.

"Rich," Vic sighed and sat closer to the edge of his chair, moving closer
to the youth.  "We can only be happy by being honest with ourselves.  I
ought to know - I had the unhappiest marriage to Dave's mom, "Eight long,
insufferable years"

Vic Marshall picked up his drink again and gulped it.  Suddenly, he needed
to steady his nerves - too much was happening; there were too many
possibilities here rolled up in the youth so close to him.  "Have you found
out if this guy's interested?" he asked finally, placing the empty glass
back on the coffee table between them.

He looked up at Vic then, a pleading in his eyes the man did not
understand.  "No-" He averted his eyes again and the silence between them
grew.  "I don't want to do that, Vic," he answered finally, his voice
nearly inaudible.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't want to."

Vic groaned in frustration.  He was getting nowhere.  "You can't pretend
your feelings don't exist." he growled in exasperation.  "You've got to go
ahead and explore them - open yourself to them.  That's the only way you're
going to be honest with yourself."

"I know.  I guess that's the main reason I'm here this week-end."  The
glass in his hand was empty but still held his attention completely.  Rich
realized he was making a bigger deal out of this than it possibly could be.

It wasn't as if he were straight and was going to suck a guy off.  He was
just as queer as this man was.  Still, he was needlessly prolonging the
moment when he faced up to himself.  He just wished it wasn't him who had
to make this first move - it'd be so much easier if Vic were putting the
make on him.

The man's face was as blank as his mind for the moments of silence that
followed.  Rich Dailey finally looked up from the glass and chuckled.
"Don't look so surprised, Vic - after all, it was only a couple of years
ago that you asked me if I wanted to go have sex with you.  Remember asking
me that?"

Vic nodded slowly.  "It was a rhetorical question, Rich.  I wasn't really
trying to put the make on you-" He was unwilling to imagine where this
conversation was leading.

"Well-" Rich Dailey rose slowly and stretched.  Placing his empty glass on
the table beside the other man's, he smiled and looked directly at Vic with
his violet eyes.  "I guess now's the time - because that's what I want to
do."

"I-" Vic Marshall found himself at a loss for words as he gazed up into the
violet eyes now so close to his own.

"I love you, damn it!" Rich growled as fear of rejection from this man
dawned on him.  "It seems I've loved you since I can remember.  Only, now,
I'm finally able to understand it for what it is!"

"But-"

"It took that kid at work to make me understand myself."  He knelt before
Vic, using the man's knees as support as he lowered himself.  He grinned as
he looked up into Vic Marshall's face and his fingers began to fumble with
the catch of Vic's pants.  "I love you - and, damn it, I want you."  He
tugged hard at the zipper.

Vic stared incredulously at the boy now kneeling just inside his knees.

"Help me to do it right," Rich whispered, pulled hard at Vic's pants to get
them past the chair seat and down over his ass.

"You're starting off just fine," Vic croaked.  He forced himself to relax
then, letting his cock react to Rich's fingertips as they brushed the hairs
of his inner thighs.

The youth smiled back at him.

Vic's reassurance helped as Rich struggled against the fear that'd gripped
him the moment he'd stood up and crossed the room to the other man.  He
leaned into the man's legs and ran his fingertips over the insides of his
thighs.  He kept his eyes on the man's chest as he slipped the briefs off
Vic's ass and pulled them past his knees.  Slowly, he lowered his head
toward the heat and the hard, demanding presence he felt waiting for him
there.

It was happening and there was no real way he could back now - even if he
wanted to.  Only, he did know he had that option with Vic and that he would
never have had it with Ron.  It wasn't bad at all.  The lead-in, at least,
to sucking a guy off wasn't.  He allowed himself to relax a little.

His chin was the first part of him to touch the cock waiting for him as his
fingers arrived at Vic's balls.  He was surprised at how hot and big the
thing against his cheek felt; his curiosity pulled his eyes down to the
cock that now was so close to his lips.  "You're bigger than I'd thought,"
he mumbled and forced his fear back as his lips moved to encircle the head
of the man's cock.

"Not too big.  You're doing all right - just go down on it slow and easy."

It wasn't bad at all!  He liked the sense of control he developed
immediately over the man beneath him.  He could feel the man's whole body
straining as they moved together in silence.  And lost himself in that
control.

Vic's muscles tightened and he ground his groin against Rich's face as his
lips touched the tight curls of hair at the base of his cock.

The cock that was somehow past Rich's tonsils.  And he was causing all of
it--he was orchestrating it.  He wanted to laugh at how easy it was to
control another man sexually, and at how good it felt to be doing so.

Actually sucking a guy off felt good too.  Mindless and endless - but good.
The only problem was all the muscles in his lips and jaws wanted to
complain from the work-out.

Vic slid his hands over Rich's smooth back and slipped them inside his
cut-offs, tentatively establishing his dominion of the boy's asscheeks as
he kneaded them.

Rich continued moving his lips along the shaft of the cock in front of him,
his tongue exploring the veined and ridged surface - taking, first, the
helmeted crown and, then, more and more of its shaft with each new descent.
Playing with it as he'd imagined doing for years.

Vic's fingers slipped around to the front of his cut-offs, unbuttoning
them, and pushed them down over his ass.  "You're as good as you'll ever
need to be," he mumbled and felt a familiar pressure beginning to develop
in his balls.

"Go all the way down on it now," he grunted a moment later, his hands
coming back up the warm skin to cup the back of his head.  "Get your nose
all the way down in my thatch."

Slipping further in between Vic's legs, Rich cupped his ball-sack, gripping
it lightly in one fist.

Vic's right hand descended once again down the man's back and began to work
his now bare asscheeks.  The hand slid between his cheeks and its index
finger found his loveshute just as Vic felt the eruption begin to churn
inside his captive balls.  He shoved his finger in past Rich's sphincter as
he shot the first wave of his load past Rich's tonsils.

Rich Dailey's back arched and his sphincter clinched momentarily around
Vic's finger.  Then he was collapsing further inside his legs, licking the
man's cock while moving his ass experimentally around on the finger still
imbedded inside him.

Instinctively, Vic's other hand went searching for his hard cock and found
it, covered with the boy's own juices.

A moment later he lifted Rich from between his legs and smiled as he looked
at the cock before him for the first time in the years of his curiosity.
Its one eye was dilated, oozing jizz - it's large head still engorged and
red, sitting on a long, slim shaft.  He bent forward and pulled it tenderly
into his mouth, tasting Rich Dailey's youth as he'd fantasized doing for
years.

The boy pulled away quickly, shivering.  "Don't!" he groaned and took
another step back.  "I can't take any more right now - it's too sensitive,
okay?"  His eyes were wide with his surprise as he took another step back
from the man.  He stared at Vic still sitting in the chair in front of him,
unable to take his eyes off him as he assimilated what he'd just done.

Vic laughed softly and looked up at him, meeting his eyes.  He sat up in
the chair and, reaching out, gently stroked the other man's chest before
moving down onto his abdomen, feeling his hot, smooth skin.  "Well, now,
you've done it, Rich."

"I guess I have."  He looked sheepishly back at the man, his eyes steady on
his.  "And it was everything I was afraid it was going to be too."

"The evening's still young yet - let's get cleaned up and, then, I'll take
you to get something to eat."

Rich nodded his acquiescence and stepped out of the cut-offs still bunched
at his ankles.  "Was I any good?" he asked slowly, glancing away, the
answer to his question suddenly important to him.

"Rich, you were very, very good."  Vic stood up and stepped in front of
him, taking his hands in his.  "If that's really what you wanted to do, I'm
proud of you - and I'm even prouder that you chose me to experiment with."

Vic's face seemed to him to be swimming closer and closer to his own - as a
ship at sea which was there in its position and did not seem to move but,
only, to grow larger and larger as it approached.

He steeled himself for the kiss that was now only inches from him.  He knew
what was going to happen.  He'd dreamed of it happening for so many years
that he couldn't remember the first time.  Before, though, he'd always
shoved the dream away, telling himself that it was wrong.  But, now, he was
going to be kissed.  A real kiss - a kiss between two men.  A kiss between
queers.  He found himself relaxing as Vic's lips reached his and brushed
against them.

Vic's arms held him and he melted into them.  He gave himself up to the
touch of lips on lips and tongue intertwining with tongue.  It was alien,
but it felt right too.  And, so did the hands that had strayed back to his
asscheeks.  Right and normal.  And good.

They broke apart, separating for air, and he felt a momentary vertigo. Vic
still held him, smiling at him; and he smiled back.  "Go shower, kiddo - I
want to get some food into you."