Max’s Freudian Slip #26

by craigpnifty@protonmail.com

 

Author’s notes:

It’s been a while since I’ve added to Craig’s version of this tale.  For those of you reading Max’s version in Max’s Awakening, you already know a lot has happened since returning to Minnesota. It’s time to catch up with Craig’s version of the events.

Thus far, I’ve tried to avoid duplicating too much dialog across Freudian Slip and Awakening.   If I include a full dialog in one version of the tale, I’ve tried to summarize it in the other.  This chapter has two sections of dialogue that ARE duplicated with Awakening – they are too important to leave out.  While the words are much the same, we of course are inside Craig’s head in this version instead of Max’s.   Those of you reading both stories might find it somewhat redundant – though there is some added conversation and drama here that wasn’t included in the original version of Max’s Awakening #26.   (I’ll be resubmitting an updated version of that Awakening chapter to keep them congruent). 

One small housekeeping note… Craig has been referring to his spouse as ‘my wife’ this entire time.  I finally gave her a name: Kim.   I didn’t plan to have her be much of the story so didn’t bother at first, but it’s long overdue.  (If for some reason I named her something else in one chapter along the way, oops!  I’ll catch it when I submit this story for print publication).

This chapter begins with Craig and Max on the way home from their trip to Mexico.

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Chapter 26

Max must have been worn out from all of our illicit adventures.   He curled up against the bulkhead and was sleeping before the plane reached cruising altitude.  With an empty seat between us, he was able to spread out.  I was glad he dozed off.  With his eyes closed, I was able to admire his beauty without him thinking I was being too weird constantly staring at him.  But I couldn’t help it.  Asleep he looked even more like a little blond angel; a blond angel who also happens to enjoy being fucked - by me. 

As I looked him over, I couldn’t help but relive some of our most special moments.  How the hell did I get so lucky to have all this fall into my lap?  A lifetime of frustration had been erased over the course of a few days.   As I set to return to my normal routine, I wondered: should I be pleased to have had the chance of living out a life-long fantasy?  Or would I be more miserable now, having enjoyed the forbidden fruit and trying to go on without it?  I also realized I now had to live with the prospect of someone finding out living over my head.  I wasn’t too worried about that however.  Max had promised me many times he wouldn’t tell.

As I thought about it all, picturing some of the hottest encounters, my cock naturally filled.   Max must have been dreaming about something good as well, because he was frequently adjusting his own erection.  He had one of those small airplane pillows in his lap, but it wasn’t very effective in hiding the obvious outline of his cockhead through his gym shorts.   I doubt anyone else would have noticed, but after the past week, I was very familiar with the angle his cock tended to position itself when stiffened.  I very much wished I could slide my hand up those shorts and feel him once again.

***

When we touched down in Atlanta, Max was startled into consciousness.  He looked at me somewhat dazed, as if he didn’t know where he was.  “We just landed in Atlanta bud.  You slept the whole way.”

He retrieved his phone from the seat back and took it off airplane mode.  I watched as alerts rolled up his screen.   He quickly became alarmed and annoyed. “Everything okay?” I asked.   He shook his head, but continued to silently read through text messages.  I could tell something was seriously wrong.  I lifted the arm rest and shifted over next to him.  “What is it Max?” I whispered.

“Cam’s grandma died and he’s going to Texas - TONIGHT.  It will be a whole week before I can see him,” he explained, obviously frustrated.

“Oh man.  That’s horrible,” I told him as I rubbed his bare leg, not thinking about the fellow passengers who might be watching us from across the aisle.  It dawned on me that I was going to have to be more careful about showing affection towards Max now that our lust-filled trip was over.

He elbowed the side of the plane in frustration.  “Dammit! I couldn’t wait to see him,” he replied angrily through clinched teeth.   I let him be so he could gather himself as the plane taxied into our gate.  It was a wake-up call for me, too.   Max being so upset at not being able to see Cam immediately was a not-so-gentle reminder that I was not at the top of his list.  After having him to myself for over a week, I was going to have to get used to Max having other priorities.  

It’s selfish, but this sudden realization that I was not going to have Max ‘s constant companionship was depressing.   It will be strange not sharing a bed with him after the past eight nights with him nestled beside me, rubbing his small frame against my hairy body.   I realized what a luxury it had been to have this smooth boy there next to me, available to caress as I pleased whenever I woke throughout the night.   I found myself jealous of Cam.  I was going to be returning to my boring life and Cam was going to be enjoying Max’s intimate company - regularly.    On the other hand, thinking about Cam and Max together also made me very happy.  The fact that they found each other and were able to be together (something that would have impossible for me at 14) was inspiring.  And to think I played a part in bringing them together made me even happier.

***

When we arrived at customs, Max took off for the bathroom.  While waiting, I collected my thoughts and reminded myself that I was the responsible adult, or at least I should be.   When Max finally came out, I gave him a big hug.  “Try to cheer up mijo,” I told him.  “Your sadness is temporary.  Cam might be grieving for a lot longer.  Besides, I bet your mom has missed you and will be smothering you for a few days.  And I’m sure Noah will help keep you occupied too.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he groaned, clearly not convinced as he pulled and scratched at the seat of his pants for what seemed an unusually long time. 

I was worried he was sore from our repeated fucking and the two-hour plane ride.  “You ok back there?” I whispered with concern.

He pulled me down by my shoulder so he could whisper.  “Yeah.  Just leaked a bit,” he said, flashing the same smile he’d used this morning when he begged me to breed his perfect ass.

 ***

Max’s mom was with my wife, Kim, waiting for us inside the airport terminal.   It had been a long time since someone greeted me inside the airport.  We never do that, opting to just pull up to the curb a few minutes after the plane lands.  My guess is that Stacy put my wife up to that because she couldn’t wait a second longer than necessary to see Max.

My suspicions were confirmed by her over-the-top reaction.   I think she probably embarrassed the hell out of Max, but he was good about it and let her make quite a fuss, covering him with hugs and kisses.   I can’t really blame her.  I am sure she missed him, being stuck at home while he was living it up in the tropics, thousands of miles away.  I doubt, as his mom, she would describe it the same way, but for me, being around Max is intoxicating.  After our trip, I can’t imagine NOT being near him for an entire week.

Kim had a nice hug for me, whispering “I’ve missed you stud,” in my ear.  Apparently, she not only missed me but was anxious to get frisky.   I tried my best to seem excited about it.  Not that we were wildly amorous these days, but I am sure she expected me to come home from a long trip horny from no sex.  Little did she know I had probably come inside Max more times in the last week than I had with her the prior four months.

While we waited for our bags to come up the carousel, my wife asked Max a question that nearly made me choke.  “So Max, did you manage to keep Craig out of trouble?”

“Sure Mrs. Peters!  The trip was great,” he answered without skipping a beat.  “Craig took great care of me.  He was sure to give me everything I needed,” he added, glancing naughtily my way as he subtly emphasized the word ‘everything’.  I didn’t know whether to be amused with his subtle innuendo or worried.  Thankfully, I am sure it didn’t register with anyone but me.

“I thought I told you not to call me Mrs. Peters, young man.  Kim will do just fine,” she replied teasing him.  “You mean my lush of a husband didn’t spend at least one night drinking way too much in the sports bar?”

“No! Honest!  He was a good boy,” Max replied with a chuckle, shooting me a wicked grin.

“I’m more worried about you, Max,” Stacy interjected.  “Are you sure you weren’t too much trouble?   Hopefully he remembered his manners.  I can’t believe all the things you took him to do.   Max, I hope you thanked Craig enough!”

“Mommmm!  Stop!” Max begged, clearly embarrassed.  “I said thank you plenty of times.”

“Stacy, Max was a great travel companion,” I interjected.  “I can assure you he more than adequately demonstrated his appreciation.”  Wow, was that ever an understatement.  “I’d take him on a trip again in a heartbeat.”

***

We dropped Max and Stacy off at their house before heading home.   I had completely underestimated Kim’s desires.   After we dropped the bags inside the door, she practically drug me onto the bed.   She knew I was tired, so pushed me onto my back where I could relax while she took over.  She undid my fly, eagerly pulled down my trunks, and took my cock into her mouth.   I was briefly panicked, fearing she might detect the lingering taste of Max’s ass on my cock.  You’ll recall I hadn’t planned on having sex before we left.  He had sprung it on me after we had both showered and just before we left, so I’d only had time to quickly wash up in the sink.   Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice.  If she did, she didn’t say anything.

 I closed my eyes and tried to compare her technique to Max’s.   They seemed quite similar, but the thought of Max sucking me was significantly more arousing.   She sucked me until I was hard, which didn’t take long as I was imagining Max’s soft lips wrapped around me, and climbed atop my cock.  As nice as it felt, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and imagine it was Max riding me, not her.   It would have been much more enjoyable had she had a teenage boner for me to play with.

I think I had mentioned before that our marriage was sexless.  That was a bit of an exaggeration, but after 25 years of marriage, neither of us needed to have sex more than once every few weeks and we would sometimes go months without fucking.   For some reason, my wife had a burst of intensified libido.   She wanted to do it again the following two nights.  It’s almost as if she had a sense Max was stealing me away from her and was desperate to reclaim her property.    Our second romp was a basic missionary fuck, where I honestly had a hard time staying hard.   After a week of amazing sex with Max I just couldn’t get into sex with a woman - at all!  Thankfully, I managed to stay hard long enough to cum and get her close enough to climax that I could finish her with my fingers.

When she approached me for sex again that third night, I was shocked.  It had been years since she wanted it three nights in a row.  It gave me even greater concern that she had suspicions about what went down in Mexico with Max.   I’m not sure how she could possibly know, but the vibe was clear.   There was at least some jealousy being played out.  I would have much rather just gone to sleep, but I was afraid of doing anything that might give away our secret.  I instead suggested we do it from behind.   We’d tried that a few times back when we first started dating, but it was never a favorite of either of ours.  The sad truth is we learned quickly that a guy needs a bigger dick than mine to keep it from repeatedly falling out.   This time after I mounted her, I push her down flat on the bed, recreating my favorite position with Max.  It also enabled me to visualize that it was actually Max taking my rod.  I stayed hard as a rock and managed to get her off too.  It was a success.  “We should have been doing it like that for years honey,” she said as took me into her arms and caressed me.

“Um, yeah.  I don’t even know what made me think of that,” I lied.

***

While Kim was keeping me occupied at home, work was hectic all week.   Being gone for a long trip always makes for a few busy days, which kept me from dwelling too much on Max.   There was no doubt I missed him, specifically having sex with him, but I was trying to think about it as little as possible.  As hard as it would be, I knew I needed to return our relationship to a completely platonic state.  But it was hard.  It was almost like grieving, trying to return to normal after spending so much concentrated time together.

Neither of us communicated directly with each other.   I followed Max’s Snapchat stories and knew he’d been out shopping with his mom.   Stacy grossly overspent buying him what I thought were hideous Nikes, but he was excited about them.  I think she was overcompensating with Max just like my wife was with me.   I did call him out of concern later in the week when he twisted his ankle at gymnastics.   I saw his update from the urgent care center and had to check-in to see if it was as bad as I feared.  Turned out he just sprained it, which while better than it could have been, still meant he was largely out of commission for a couple weeks.

Stacy called me the next day asking me to come spend time with him over the weekend.  “He’s really down Craig.  This ankle thing really has him moping,” she told me.   While the ankle might be part of the problem, I knew Cam’s absence was more likely the cause of his melancholy.   After a crazy week at work, I was more than happy to get another ‘hit’ of Max to soothe my withdrawal.  I figured it would be good to see him anyway, just to make sure he wasn’t having any regrets about Mexico.

***

Max and I went to lunch and played a round of mini-golf.  He told me how much he missed Cam and was excited that his boyfriend was coming home on Sunday, much earlier than expected.  “I’m going to show him some new tricks,” he told me as we played golf, adding a wink.

As we left the putt-putt place for home, I asked him if he was still feeling okay about what we did in Mexico.  “Of course Craig!  It was fucking awesome!” he replied.   It was reassuring that returning home hadn’t changed his perspective.  He also didn’t mention having sex with me again, which was a relief.  But it was also somewhat disappointing in a way, as I still didn’t know for sure what I wanted.

I reminded him of how important it was to keep our sexual relationship a secret.  “Don’t give away too much about where you learned these new tricks,” I told him.  He seemed to hesitate before reassuring me that he understood.   The pause made me a little nervous, but I realized I was probably just being paranoid, so I let it go.  He’d promised me many times that he wouldn’t tell.   I had to trust him.

***

Monday was a slower day at work.   I’d largely caught up the week before and the boss was on vacation.   With idle time, I found myself wondering what exactly Max and Cam were getting up to.  Were they getting naughty outside in the hot tub, in Cam’s room, or were they so horny that they started doing it right in Cam’s kitchen the minute they were inside the door?

Well, I was about to get an answer.   Not about what sexcapades they might be up to – but about something much more serious.   I clearly should have not just ‘let it go’ last night when Max paused.   I got a snapchat from Cam.   When I opened and read his message, my heart stopped: “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PERVERT!!!!    DOES YOUR WIFE KNOW YOU LIKE FUCKING BOYS?  HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY BOYFRIEND OUT OF THE COUNTRY SO YOU COULD MOLEST HIM!”

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and ran to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall.  I was hyperventilating and my heart was racing.  My body was so flushed that it felt like it would burst into flame at any moment.  It was a good thing I slipped into a stall to hide, as my lunch suddenly came lurching back up.

After puking, I sat on the toilet and ran my fingers through my sweaty hair as I waited for my body to return to normal.  I didn’t want anyone to see me in this state of shock.   “Dammit Max!  How could you tell Cam when I just reminded you two days ago how important it was to remain silent?”

After 15 minutes, I splashed some cold water on my face and made it back to my office.  It was late enough in the day that nobody thought much about me packing up and taking off.   There was no way I would be able to actually get any work done knowing my entire fucking life was probably about to come crashing down.  

“How stupid could I be?” I asked myself as I walked to the parking lot.  Despite having to deny certain urges, I’d built a successful, happy life.  Succumbing to lust in one moment was going to undo it all!  I’m ruined.  How could I be so stupid and naive to put so much trust in teenager?  He fucking swore he wouldn’t say anything, and he gives it up the very first chance he had.   Damn him!

***

In my car, I called Max to find out what the fuck had happened.   “Hey,” he answered.

“Max!” I yelled in anger.  “Why?? Why Max?? Why?” I shouted into the phone, unable to control my boiling rage.

“Huh?”

“You promised not to tell Max.  You FUCKING promised,” I berated him. I was so angry I had begun to cry.

“Uh….uh….,” I heard Max stammer.

 “Well?  What do you have to say for yourself?  You’ve probably ruined my life Max!  You get that, right?  If your boyfriend tells anyone about what we did in Mexico, I am fucking screwed! You know that?  God!  I hope you figure out how to lie and do it fast.”

“I’m sorry Craig,” he replied, almost in a whisper.  “I really didn’t think Cam would care,” he added.

 “Well, apparently he did.  He snapped me a message calling me a pervert and a predator and threatening to ruin my life.  What the hell did you tell him Max?”

“Everything,” he ashamedly admitted.

“Jesus.  I’ve got to go,” I barked.  “I can’t fucking believe you chose to put my entire life at risk!  I really don’t think we should see each other anymore Max.  I probably need to find a good lawyer.”

I sat in my car, fuming, unable to turn the key.   I had no idea what I was going to do.   I could lose everything: my wife, my family, my job, my freedom.  I’ll be a pariah.   I can only imagine how convicted child molesters get treated in prison.  I sat in my car contemplating what to do next.   I honestly gave some consideration to which bridge would be the easiest to drive off.

***

I managed to make it home without any detours.  Luckily, Kim was out running errands and I could take a long shower to calm myself.   I didn’t have any idea what to do.  Should I just sit around and wait for a detective to show up at my door to take me away?  Is that how this worked?  Or would they invite me down to the station under some guise?  I was clueless.  I’d always been a law-abiding citizen with nothing to hide.

I heated up some leftovers and sat down in my office, without realizing I wasn’t remotely hungry.   As I picked at the bland casserole, I Googled defense lawyers, found a couple that looked like they could be promising, and added them to my contacts.

I tried to watch TV but found I was paying no attention.  My mind was trying to come up with some plausible story that could get me off the hook.   None of the crazy ideas I thought of seemed remotely viable.  I was toast.

Kim came home about 7:30 and I tried my best to act normal.   It didn’t work.  After about ten minutes of inane conversation (I couldn’t even tell you what it was about), she called me out.  “Are you even listening to me Craig?” she asked.  “I SAID Joanne’s husband left her for some young bimbo at work and it’s like it went in one ear and out the other.”  Her hands were on her hips, giving me an annoyed look.

I realized I was on thin ice.  I knew I couldn’t raise suspicions with her.  I already had a bad feeling she somehow knew (or at least suspected) something happened with Max in Mexico.  “Um, yeah, sorry honey,” I replied giving her a hug.  “That’s horrible.  What a douchebag.”  It felt sanctimonious denigrating a man for running off with a younger woman when I was harboring fantasies of disappearing with a teenage boy.  “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling very well,” I said, excusing myself.  “I think I might be coming down with something.   I’m going to turn in early.”  Though mentally exhausted, I wasn’t tired.  Still, I needed to be alone, and bed seemed like as good a place as any.

***

Of course, I didn’t sleep.   Not right away and hardly at all throughout the night.  When Kim came to bed, I feigned sleep long enough for her to doze off.   How could I sleep when my mind was running wild with how my wife would react upon finding out I molested a boy?  Just thinking of it in those terms (“molested”) made me cringe.   I am sure some people wouldn’t consider that term harsh enough, given all we did.  I didn’t just touch him, or have him touch me, or even stop at oral sex.  No, I’d taken it all the way – repeatedly.  People would think I’d raped him, over and over.   I was like a god damned kid in a candy store, taking sample of all the sweet delights suddenly available to me.  Only in this case, the confection I feasted on was a hot young boy.  And just like a kid who over indulges on sweets, I too was feeling sick inside.   The fear of being caught had my stomach in knots.

Even worse, what would my daughters think?  They would assume I groomed Max from the beginning.  They’d never believe that I didn’t plan any of this.  I tried to think of some way to explain it that would elicit some compassion.  The only thing I could think that might work was to concoct some story about being abused as a boy, turning myself into the victim.   I envisioned their response would be something along the lines of “you know how harmful it can be and you turned around it did it to someone else?  What the hell?”   I scrapped that idea.

I envisioned Cam telling his dad.   What the hell would Bob think?   How strange would that be?  Your friend with benefits is fucking your teen son’s boyfriend?  You can’t make up anything that crazy.   Jerry Springer would be salivating.   Could anything be more depraved and completely fucking dysfunctional?

For the first time in my life, I thought through ways I might kill myself.  Would that be easier than facing my loved ones with what I had done with Max?   I rifled through many ways to do it, realizing I’d never have the guts to go through with any of them.   I am weak, just like I was too weak to stand up to temptation in Mexico.

I think I finally managed to fall asleep about 4 a.m., which gave me about two hours of actual sleep before my alarm went off.  I contemplated calling in sick, but didn’t.   Maybe work would give me something to think about other than the problem at hand.   I knew I wouldn’t be very productive, but it was better than sitting at home wallowing in misery.

I managed to get some menial tasks done while avoiding any difficult work.  It seemed like a good time to do a thorough clean out of the stacks of paper on my desk and organize my workspace.   It made me think of a story I’d read long ago about how people deal with big problems.  Some dive right in and attack the issue head on.  Others are so flabbergasted they don’t know what to do and end up sorting their paperclips.   Cleaning my desk was one step up from sorting paperclips (though to be honest, I did organize my desk drawers as well, which involved actual sorting of paperclips).

***

It was sometime after lunch that I received a text message from Max.   I hesitated even opening it.   It seemed like avoiding him altogether was the prudent thing to do, but after a few moments I couldn’t resist.   It could be important.

It wasn’t any sort of an update on the situation, but it was a picture of a hand-written letter.   Max had written me an apology and sent a picture of it.   My initial reaction was disgust.  “Oh yeah, NOW you’re sorry you stupid little shit!”  A small part of me wanted to send him a message back telling him to fuck off.  The rest of me felt guilty for even thinking of something so severe.  Lord knows I was still angry with him, but I also still love and care about him deeply.   I can’t just turn that off.

I just scanned his letter.  Max was trying to explain why he thought Cam wouldn’t mind our sexual transgressions.    He’s so innocent, trusting, and so god damned naive!   Had I not spelled it out clearly enough for him?  He went on to say he felt like he was breaking the trust of me or Cam no matter what he did.  That made sense, but it emphasized another point: he chose to be honest with Cam at the risk of ruining me.   There was no doubt where I stood in the pecking order.  Not that I expected to be more important than a same-age peer, but something about the realization still hurt.   Perhaps I’m the stupid one to have expected a boy his age to have the same deep feelings that I had as an adult.   It made me wonder if Max was just horny and I happened to be a convenient dick for him to ride.

The letter stirred up a mix of emotions.   Not that I expected anything else, but it was certainly depressing to know Cam was his number one.  I was angry once again at his inability to think anything through.  Still, I couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he was trying to make amends.  It was too little too late, but his heart was in the right place.   At least he’s realized that he fucked up by defying my numerous reminders to keep our secret.  That was ultimately of little solace to me though, given my precarious position.

I didn’t know how to reply so I just sent him a curt message stating I was too busy to talk.  

***

I didn’t follow-up that night, or the next day, or the next.   It was a case of me being a little passive aggressive and signaling Max, via the silent treatment, that I was still angry with him.   I did read his letter several more times.   It was actually a nice apology and he was trying.

As I read it again one more time late on Thursday night, I realized something else - it was incredibly incriminating!  It had to be eliminated.  I decided I would reach out to Max the next day and try to stop by his house on Friday afternoon before his mom got home.  

***

I’d finally managed to get some sleep after that first restless night.   It’s amazing how much a glass of wine and three Benadryl can help calm one’s mind.   And three days of nothing else happening had given me the slightest hope that maybe nothing else WOULD happen.

Not that I wasn’t still fidgety and anxious.  When I sat in my office and heard a car door, I invariably looked out the window to see if a police cruiser was parked in front of my house.  There never was.  Anytime I heard a siren, my heart raced.  One night I was cooking dinner and the doorbell rang and I about jumped out of my skin.  I ignored it for a few moments while I finished mixing some ingredients.  When a loud knock followed, I was sure I was doomed.   I was nervous and filled with dread as I walked to the door.  I felt stupid when I realized it was just another one of those annoying pest control salesmen.

All week, I interpreted everything through a lens of guilt.   Stacy texted me a short note out of the blue thanking me again for everything I’d done for Max.   Just seeing a text from her alarmed me.   Was she being sincere?  Or was she being facetious, “thanking” me for abusing her son?  Was a damning follow-up text already on her phone about to be sent?

Kim seemed to be more quiet than usual after I begged off to bed that first night.   Did she know something?  Had the police talked to her?  Were they all setting an elaborate trap of some sort?   Or was I just acting weird, which caused her to behave strangely?  Or was I just imagining it all?

For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to be paranoid.

***

I intended to text Max Friday morning and ask if I could stop by and see him.  I wanted to check up on him.  But more importantly, I had to get my hands on that damn letter!  My plan was to take the afternoon off and get to his house before his mom got home from work so we could talk freely.

But Friday at work turned out to be one crisis after another.  Numerous problems kept me occupied all morning.  It was past noon before I even made it back to my desk and checked my phone.   I was surprised to see a text pop up from Max just as I sat down: “Just wanted to say hi.  miss you.” 

I responded immediately, asking him what he was doing and whether his mom was at work.   “Yeah, why?” he asked.  I know it’s impossible to read emotion into a text message, but I couldn’t help picturing Max asking “yeah why” in a sad tone, as if to say “why does it matter?  It’s not like you want to see me ever again anyway.”

I told him that I wanted to come by to see him and he answered right away with an “Ok!!”  I assumed I cheered him up just by telling him I was visiting.  Two exclamation points has to indicate a level of excitement and happiness, right? Or maybe I was inferring way too much from simple text messages.   I realized I’d been on edge and over-analyzing everything ever since I received Cam’s message.   I couldn’t go on driving myself crazy like this!

***

Max met me at the door and I stepped inside.    We both looked at each other for several seconds without speaking.  I don’t think either of us knew exactly what to say.  Just looking at him, it was impossible not to realize he had been hurting too.  I’d never seen him look so stressed or tired.  He was clearly not his normal self.   His normally clear complexion was blemished.  He seemed thinner.  His hair was disheveled and there were dark bags under his eyes.  He clearly wasn’t sleeping well.

 As I surveyed him, recognizing the pain contained with this beautiful specimen of boyhood, I felt guilty.  Despite my anger of the past few days being justified, there was no reason I needed to have been such a dick to him – giving him the cold shoulder.  I’d not shown him any compassion whatsoever. It just took being in his presence again for me to realize my own poor behavior.

Before I could say anything, Max leapt at me and buried his face in my chest, squeezing me tight.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept saying as he wept uncontrollably.   I squeezed him back and kissed the top of his head, trying to calm him.   I certainly hadn’t expected him to be so emotional and it only made me feel guiltier for ignoring him all week.  How could I be angry with such a sweet boy?

“Shhh, shhhh, Max.  I know you are. I’m sorry.  I haven’t been doing everything right either,” I admitted, unable to prevent tears from streaking down my own face.  I held him until we both composed ourselves.  It felt incredible to have him back in my arms.  I could tell he was just as soothed by my embrace as I was by his.   I’d been beating myself up all week, questioning whether the emotional connection I thought we shared in Mexico was real.  I had pretty much convinced myself that it was just wishful thinking on my part.   But there was nothing remotely insincere about this tearful reunion.  It was abundantly clear now:  I love this boy with all my heart and he loves me too.   It might not be seen as normal, or natural, or right by society, but there is no doubt it is real.

“I’m sorry.  I’m a mess,” he whispered as he eventually slipped from my arms.

“I am too Max.  Is there someplace we can talk?  Your mom is still gone right?” I replied.  He told me she would be gone for hours as she was going to happy hour after work.

***

We moved into the living room and sat.  “Okay, I need you to tell me EXACTLY what happened with Cam,” I said.

“Well, it started out awesome,” he began.   “We went to gymnastics and Cam pulled me into the bathroom and stuck his tongue down my throat.  He was so horny and had missed me so much.   We had a good workout and everything, even with my ankle banged up.   He just kept smiling at me.  I could tell he was so happy just to be near me.  We went back to his house and his mom just dropped us off and left, which was perfect of course.    We ate some lunch fast.  I mean REALLY FAST.  We were starving but were both horny as fuck too.  Then we went downstairs and showered and started playing.   We were both rock hard by the time we got back up to his room.”

I couldn’t help but picture the scene in my head:  Max and Cam wolfing down a lunch and rushing to the basement, stripping off their clothes as they ran, unable to put off their desires any longer.   It was causing my cock to stir.   It was the first hint of arousal I’d felt all week.

“It was fucking amazing Craig,” he continued, a smile coming over his face.  “I fucked him like we did in Mexico, you know, face down on a pillow.  I controlled blowing my load so well, I made him cum twice.”   Hearing how amazing their sex had been gave me pangs of jealousy.   It was obvious by his enthusiasm that this was the best sex Max ever had and better than anything we did in Mexico.  “And then,” he added, with a sigh, clearly indicating it went downhill from there.

“Then you told him about us?”

“Yeah,” he replied guiltily.  “He asked me if Eduardo showed me that position and I told him that it was you. I swear I didn’t think he would care.  He’d talked several times about how hot you were and we even watched some daddy/son porn together and he talked about the guy in the porn reminding him of you.  I thought if anything he’d be jealous.  I was so dumb.” 

“Okay, then what?” I asked, needing the rest of the story.

“Well, at first Cam thought maybe you just told me how to not cum so fast or something, but I told him you actually showed me things.”

“And that pissed him off?”

He nodded.  “He got really mad and demanded to know what we did.  I told him we pretty much did everything and that made him even angrier.  He said fucking was special and just for us and that I should have known that.  But we’d never talked about that, ever!  How was I supposed to know?”  I could see Max’s mood get more depressed as he delved further into his traumatic day at Cam’s.

“I see,” I replied, trying my best to be understanding.  “Well, apparently Cam assumed some things were off limits with other people.  He already knew about Eduardo then? That you two fooled around?  And what about jerking off with Josh?”

“Yeah.  I told him about all that stuff right after it happened.  And he told me about some stuff he did with … someone else while we were gone,” he replied.   His pause made me wonder whose identity he was hiding.   I already knew about them doing stuff with Ian and Spencer, so it must have been someone else.  I’d have to ponder that later.  “That was something else that he was upset about,” Max continued.  “That I didn’t tell him about us doing stuff immediately”

“I get that.  If you had always told him about everything else you did, it would be logical for Cam to assume you wouldn’t hold anything back.  He was okay with you and Eduardo and Josh doing stuff?”

“Yeah, sure.  We agreed that we could play around with other people as long as we didn’t hide it.  But he never said he didn’t want us fucking other people.” 

Cam’s anger wasn’t unfounded.  Max had told him about doing other things but hadn’t told him a thing about our numerous encounters.   “So he thought you were hiding it?” I surmised.

“Yes.  I tried to tell him I was just waiting to tell him so I could surprise him with new sex tricks, but he didn’t buy that at all.” 

I am not sure I would have believed that myself.  “Wait,” I said interrupting him.  “Are you telling me you always planned to tell Cam about us?  Were you lying to me in Mexico every time I made you promise to keep it a secret, or were you lying to Cam about why you didn’t tell him sooner?”  I was appalled to think he repeatedly lied to my face the whole time while planning to tell Cam everything once we returned.

“No!” he retorted.  “It’s not like that!  I didn’t plan to tell him the whole time.  I didn’t know what to do, but I wasn’t lying, I promise.  When we got home, I just felt guilty keeping it a secret from him.  He’s my boyfriend, Craig. Or he WAS.  It didn’t seem right to keep such a big secret.  If I didn’t tell him now and he learned later, that wouldn’t be right at all.” 

I couldn’t believe his cavalier attitude towards something so serious.  I was seething.  “Yeah, well great. Fucking great!  You chose to tell Cam even after promising me over and over that you wouldn’t.  You know first-hand what would happen to me.  But yet, you put me in serious danger just because you thought Cam might be upset with you down the road?  Or because you thought he’d be amused to know we slept together? Do you know just how ridiculous that sounds to me right now?”

Max stared at me as his bottom lip began to quiver.   Just before he burst into tears, he bolted off the couch and ran up the stairs.  I reached for him just as he stood, but wasn’t quick enough to grab him.  As he bounded up the stairs, I could hear him sobbing.  I leaned back into the chair and sighed, unhappy with myself.  What good did it do me to attack him like that, other than to blow off a little steam?  I still wasn’t sure that I believed his denials about never intending to confide in Cam, but I realized he must have always been in turmoil about whose trust to violate.  While I felt betrayed and angry, his position was understandable.  I could see how it was a catch-22 for him.  He felt like he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t.

I made my way upstairs to Max’s room.  He was face down on his bed with his head buried in the pillow.  It was just like how he was when I came to visit him after he accidentally sent me the x-rated snap and I blew up at him.  I’d never seen his room this messy.  Max was always very neat, but there were dirty clothes and empty bottles everywhere.  It was further indication that he wasn’t himself.

I sat beside him and rubbed his back.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be so harsh.  My frustration with all of this just boiled over.  I’m scared Max.  Really scared.”  I stayed next to him and continued to rub his back for several minutes.  He didn’t respond, but I could hear his cries diminishing. 

Finally he turned his reddened face to me.  “I don’t want you to hate me,” he mumbled as he wiped his nose.  Maybe it was my love for Max that made it so easy, but it seemed he could turn my anger into empathy with just a few well-chosen words.   I simply cannot stay angry with him for long.

“C’mon, sit up,” I instructed.  “I don’t hate you.  I’m just very disappointed is all.  But what’s done is done.  We just need to figure out, together, how to deal with it.” 

He slowly sat up and leaned into me.   “I’m sorry I fucked this all up,” he whispered.

***

We found ourselves in the kitchen a few minutes later.  We were both thirsty.  We each grabbed a drink and sat back in the living room.    “Okay,” I said.  “Where were we?  I think we were at Cam being pissed you didn’t tell him right away?  Then what?”

“Well, like I said, he was mad as hell. Now that I think about it, he might have been more bothered that I didn’t tell him about it right off than he was about us doing it.”

“Well, that kind of makes sense,” I answered. “Had you told him right after you sucked me the first time, and he didn’t like it, you would have probably stopped doing stuff with me, huh?”   On one hand I was certainly glad he didn’t tell right away.  If he had, none of the other things would have likely happened.  But on the other hand, I wouldn’t be in this dire situation now if Cam had shut it down.  If Cam thought our one and only sexual encounter was initiated by Max and I was upset by it, he wouldn’t be thinking badly of me at all.

“Probably,” he replied softly.  “Maybe I didn’t tell him because I was afraid that he might tell me not to do more. You know, subconsciously or something, without even thinking about it.” 

Wow! That was a pretty deep thought for a 14-year-old.   “Because you wanted to do more? With me?”

“Yeah, duh.  I loved doing stuff with you, Craig.  It was fucking amazing,” he replied, flashing me a slight smile.

“I know.  I loved everything we did too.   But you can see how that looks selfish to Cam right?”  I was trying to make sure he understood how this all appeared from the outside.

“I do NOW,” he replied.   “I guess I didn’t think it all the way through.  As usual.”

Bingo! He’s beginning to recognize one of his short-comings.  “Well, sometimes one learns the hard way Max.  I think we are both learning some difficult lessons right now.  Did you at least tell Cam that you started it?  That I let you initiate it always?”  I hoped he at least didn’t give Cam the impression that I planned it all.

“Yeah, but that didn’t seem to matter to him.  He said you were a pervert and that you were only being my friend to get into my pants.  He said you probably took me to Mexico just hoping something would happen.   I tried to tell him no way, but he didn’t believe me.  He said you sure as hell didn’t stop it once we began.”

“Well, he does have a point there,” I answered.  “I could have stopped it.  I should have.  But I didn’t.  I failed us too.”

“But did you Craig?” he asked meekly. 

I wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Did I what?  Fail us?  I just said I did.”

“No.  I mean just be friends with me, you know, knowing I was gay and hoping for a chance to do sex stuff?  And take me to Mexico where nobody would know?” He couldn’t even look at me as he asked.  He stared at the floor.  It was as if he was afraid that I would tell him that I had schemed it all.

“Well, what do you think Max?” I asked, trying not to give any hint of the truth.  I wanted to know what his gut was telling him.  Did he really think I was that evil?

“No.  Well, I don’t think so anyway.  I mean if I wouldn’t have started it, I don’t think anything would have ever happened, even though you said you’re into boys.  Right?” he asked glancing up at me finally.  You could tell he was not completely certain.

“That’s right,” I confirmed, garnering a smile of relief from him.  “But Cam is correct too you know.  I could have stopped it after that first time and I didn’t.  But no Max, it wasn’t all some plot.  I promise.  Can I explain my boy attractions a little more?”

“Sure.”

I tried to think of a way of explaining my desires and how I’d dealt with them over the years.  I’d hinted to him about being a boy lover in Madison, but I don’t think he understood at all then what I was trying to suggest.  I was more direct in Mexico, straight-up telling him that I was attracted to boys, but I still don’t think he understood the depth or various facets of my attraction. 

“Telling you all this is probably ridiculously stupid of me, given the circumstances,” I began.  I had to clear the frog in my throat before I could say more.  “Max, I’ve been into boys your age, and well a little younger, since I was a boy myself.   For some reason, as I grew older those attractions never went away.  In high school I was still attracted to younger boys.  There were always a few really short freshmen not far into puberty and I would ogle them regularly.  I even followed a few into the bathroom hoping to check them out at the urinals.  Nothing changed in college.  Even then, I found myself admiring the little brothers who were visiting their siblings.  So, even now, I still think middle school boys are about the hottest people on the planet.”  There, I’d done it.  It wasn’t just a matter of finding boys hot (in addition to more ‘normal’ attractions), now he knew it was my primary attraction.

“Me too,” he grinned.

“Right, but it’s who you should be attracted to – other boys YOUR age.” I answered.  “I kind of alluded to this in Madison and in Cozumel but I want to be clearer and completely honest with you now.   Hearing about you and Cam did remind me of fond memories.  That part is true. But hearing the details of what you guys were doing made me horny as fuck too.  I’ve jerked off many times based on your reports. So, anyway, the nice term for people like me is boy-lover. I am attracted to boys like most men are attracted to women.  

“So you really don’t like women?  At all?” he asked, interrupting.  “But you’re married.”

“Not much.  Sex with women is just ok,” I replied before pausing.  I couldn’t help but immediately think about how when Kim and I had sex last week, I imagined I was having sex with Max every single time.  I almost told him that, thinking it would maybe amuse him, but decided against it.  “So, I largely faked it to have a family and what used to be considered a normal life,” I continued.   “Understand?”   He nodded.   “So my attraction to boys works on a lot of levels.  I like just being around boys.  When we go on vacation to the beach, I always play volleyball and other games and talk to as many boys at the resort as I can.  It’s fun.  Harmless fun.  But do I ever do anything inappropriate with any of them?”

“Doubt it,” he answered quickly.

“Of course not!  Never!  I’ve watched Noah and Jackson grow up and I love being around them. But do you think I’ve done anything with either of them?” I asked.

He shook his head emphatically, more confident in his answers now.

“Exactly.  I have enjoyed thinking about it a few times, but I’d never actually do it.  But I still always LOVED being around them.  Do you know I’d never even seen Noah naked until we went swimming a few weeks ago?  And I’ve never seen Jackson nude, ever.”

“But you looked? At Noah?” he asked questioningly.

“Well, duh.  Of course I looked,” I admitted.  “I couldn’t resist.  I’d been curious about that boy’s dick for 12 years.  But I didn’t stare or make it awkward for Noah.  I made sure it was harmless, see?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Noah has a thick one, doesn’t he?” he added, laughing. 

I grinned.  Just how familiar with Noah’s cock was Max?  Had he done stuff with Noah and not told me?  That seemed highly unlikely.   I didn’t think Noah would have any interest in playing with other boys and Max hasn’t kept much from me.  “Yeah he does,” I agreed before turning the conversation back to us.  “So did the fact that I’m attracted to boys have something to do with me wanting to be your mentor?  Well, of course it did.   But just like with Noah and Jackson, I certainly never planned on having sex with you.  And then, Mexico just kind of blew up.  When you broke the ice Max, it was like the floodgates opened and I just couldn’t help myself.   I was weak and I should have been stronger.”

“But I loved doing stuff with you! There was nothing wrong with it,” he replied with conviction.

“I’m glad you think so,” I replied.  “You might change your mind as you get older.  I hope you don’t, but who knows.”   I’ve read about boys who love doing things with older guys and then years later their memories get reshaped by societal norms and suddenly they were ‘horribly abused’.

“I’ll never change my mind Craig.  Ever.  I love you.  There was nothing wrong with what we did!”

“Well, it felt very right to me too.  Unfortunately, nobody else would understand how a boy your age and a grown man like me having sex could be ‘right’.  My wife wouldn’t.  My kids wouldn’t.  Your mom sure as hell wouldn’t.  Cam didn’t, clearly.  It’s why I really needed you to keep it a secret.  I thought we had an agreement.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, looking down, becoming dejected once again. 

“So how did the argument end with Cam?” I asked, needing to hear the end of the story.

“He basically dumped me and kicked me out of his house.  He told me he never wanted to see me or talk to me again.”  I knew Cam’s reaction hurt Max deeply.    He was crying again just having to tell me about it. “I walked all the way home on my bad ankle.”

“You should have called me,” I said, admonishing him for not asking for my help.

“I would have had to tell you what happened and I was afraid you’d be angry,” he replied, sniffling.

He was right about that. “I would have been. But you should have called me anyway.  Have you talked to him since?”

“No.  He blocked me on everything.  I tried to tell him again how sorry I am.  I want him back Craig.  I love him.”

“I know.  It sounds like he is pretty dead set on not taking you back.  Do you know if he’s told anyone else about us in Mexico?”

He shook his head.  “Not that I know of.  Noah saw him on Tuesday and he didn’t say a word to him about any of this.  I’m not really sure who he would tell.”

I could think of lots of people he could tell.  “Maybe his parents?  Maybe Noah just to get even with me, or you? Maybe Spencer or Ian so they think badly of you?  If he tells anyone it’s sure to get passed around.  It’s too juicy of a story.”

“Yeah.  I can’t see him telling his mom.  Maybe his dad.   I’m hoping he just keeps it to himself.”

“Yeah, well, me too.  So nobody has contacted you?  Your mom isn’t acting weird or anything?”

He shook my head again.  “No.  Nothing unusual at all.”

“Okay, well I did some research this week on what to do in this situation.”

“And?” I asked.

“Well, it seems the best thing to do would be to stay away from you for a while Max.  It would look better if I limited my contact so it didn’t look like as if I am trying to manipulate you, in case things get crazy.”

“But you’re not manipulating me,” he replied defiantly.

“Not exactly, but it’s a matter of how it would look,” I tried to explain.

“So we… can’t be friends?” he asked hesitantly.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.   But we probably need to back it off.  A lot.”

“But what will my mom think if you just disappear?” he asked, his eyes starting to tear up, again.

“Well, I’m going to have to be really busy at work for a while, if you get my drift.   That’s somewhat true anyway.  It will explain why I’m not seeing you to my wife too.  I’ll have to go in on weekends some just to make it look good.”

“Okay. But for how long Craig?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Honestly Max, maybe it would be best if it was forever, so neither of us are tempted again.”  I didn’t want that and neither did he, but I needed to prepare him in case it became necessary.

“NO!  Craig! Please!” he begged and started to cry.

“We’ll see.  But for now, we have to try to be apart. I’m sorry.   What I need to know more than anything is what you will do if Cam tells his parents and the authorities get involved.”

“You mean like the police?” he asked sheepishly.

“Yeah Max.  I mean the freaking police,” I replied, my voice raised.

“I’ll tell them I made it all up,” he suggested confidently.

I frowned at him.  That would never work.  “That’s the worst idea ever.  For one, you are a horrible liar and two, why would you tell Cam such a lie when he was your boyfriend?   If you were going to make things up or lie to him, you’d just say Eduardo showed you or something. You’ve always told Cam everything.  Hell, you tell ME everything.  You really don’t do well keeping secrets.  The best thing might just be to refuse to talk to them.”

He looked at me blankly.  I could tell wheels were turning inside his head.  “I keep some secrets.  Even from you Craig,” he replied.

“Oh right! Like what?” 

What he went on to tell me took me by surprise.  “There’s something that happened in Mexico I never told you about.  Something bad.”

“Worse than getting caught on the beach with Eduardo’s dick in your mouth?” I asked.   I couldn’t imagine what could be worse than getting caught by the security guard.

“Yeah.  Worse than that.  Remember how the last couple days we were there, after Eduardo left, I begged you to go into town all the time?” I nodded.  “Well it’s because I wanted to avoid being at the resort.”

“Why?”  I had no idea what he was getting at.

“You remember Armando?” he asked.

Armando was one of the activities staff at the resort.  I’ve known him for a couple years, at least.  “Sure.  What about him?”

“Well, he’s a real prick that’s what!” he blurted.

“Huh?” I asked.  “What is this all about?”

“He asked me to help him get the nets to play water polo.  Then he cornered me in this storage room.  It was the day after getting busted on the beach.   He knew all about it,” he explained.  “The guard must have told him.”   Max switched to a bad impersonation of a Mexican speaking English for the next part: “I hear you like Mexican dick muchacho.  How about a little sucky sucky for your favorite staff?”

What the fuck?  Armando, who I had always liked, propositioned Max?  That was outrageous! “What?  He said that?”

“Or maybe you like to fuck instead,” Max continued in his awful Mexican accent.  “You been showing off your ass in that Speedo all week.  I bet you like it.  I make you howl good.”

I was stunned.  How incredibly bold for Armando to try that. “Max! Oh my god! He really came onto you like that?”

I still wasn’t understanding the mood of the whole scene though.  It wasn’t just a matter of Armando hitting on Max, it turned forceful.  Max continued: “Yes. I may not have the exact words, but it was something like that.  He even pulled his dick out and was waving it at me.  And then he grabbed my arm.”  

I was annoyed to hear a staff member had propositioned Max.  I’d seen them hit on cute girls for years, but I’d never seen then make a play at anyone as young as Max.   But I was pissed to hear he didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer!  “Holy Shit!  Then what happened?”

“Well, like I said, he tried to trap me in the room and grabbed me by the arm, but I managed to knee him in the balls and escape.  Then I ran back to the pool.” 

I was aghast.  I was proud of Max for getting himself out of trouble, but why the hell didn’t he tell me?  “Jesus Max.  That’s horrible!  Why didn’t you say something?  We could have done something about it!”

“I couldn’t,” he explained.  “You were already mad at me.  It was the night after our fight and I was already so disappointed that I let you down getting caught on the beach.  Plus, I thought it WAS my fault.  I HAD been parading around in a Speedo.  I did get caught on the beach.   I didn’t want to ruin your vacation so I just kept it to myself.  It wasn’t that big of a deal.”  I thought we sufficiently made up from our fight that prior night.  I didn’t realize Max still felt the need to tread lightly around me.

“The hell it wasn’t Max.  You should have told me.  We could have decided what to do about it together.”  I wondered if Max told anyone else.  “Did you at least warn Eduardo?”

“Hell no!  I didn’t want him freaking out again.   He was leaving the next day, so as long as we stayed away that night, I figured he was safe.  But I was really relieved once he left and I knew he escaped.”  I couldn’t believe Max not only kept this all to himself but even planned our days and nights to avoid further issues.  I was miffed, but I also admired him taking on such responsibility alone.

“So you didn’t tell anyone about this?” I asked.

“I told Cam about it.  He told me I should tell you.”

“Well, Cam was right.  I’m really sorry that happened to you Max.  I bet you were scared.”

“It was freaky.  He was being so forceful.  It gave me the creeps.  That’s the funny thing,” he added.

“What?”  I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be funny.

“I thought Armando was cool before that.  If he had just been chill and like told me the guard was telling people and asked nicely, I might have sucked him.  But not after being trapped like that.  I didn’t like that at all.”

I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him to me. “I’m so sorry Max.  You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.   It’s not still haunting you is it?  Like at night when you’re trying to sleep?”  If it wasn’t for OUR secret, I would have likely suggested he go back and discuss it with his therapist.

“Not really. I’m fine,” he answered.  “Honestly, it’s nothing compared to this mess.  Can we please still be friends and hang out? Please?” he begged.

I did suddenly feel very sorry for him and I almost gave in.  “Hopefully, we can eventually get back to that.  But for now, I need to stick to the plan of staying away.  I’m sorry Max,” I answered.

“Yeah,” he grimaced, seeming to understand, but clearly not liking it.

I needed to take care of the other task I came to complete.  “There’s one more thing Max.  Do you still have the letter you sent me?  The real letter.”

“Yeah.  Why?” he asked.

“Well, that letter is pretty incriminating.  Go get it.”  

I waited while Max went up to his room.  When he returned, he handed me several pages, one of which had clearly been wadded up.  I was confused.   His letter to me was one page.  What were the rest of these?  I pulled out the wrinkled page.  “That’s the one I tried to write to Cam,” he explained.

I started reading his letter to Cam and about shit my pants.  It spelled out everything Max and I had done in Mexico and it mentioned me very clearly by name.   If the letter to me was incriminating, this letter to Cam was a fucking smoking gun.  “Jesus Christ Max, please tell me you didn’t send this to Cam.  This lays out everything we did and it’s in your own handwriting.  I’d get the firing squad if this fell into the wrong hands.”   I was suddenly angry with Max again.  I swear every time I start to feel compassion and empathy towards him, he does something else so stupid it enrages me!

“I know.  I thought of that and that’s why I rewrote it and took out your name and anything that made it seem like you.”  That was good to hear.  At least he thought of something.

“And you sent this new letter to Cam?” I asked.

“I tried, but he blocked me so it didn’t go through.”

I shuffled through the papers and didn’t see another letter. “Where the hell is it? I need to see it.” 

I don’t have it any more,” he replied, looking down at the floor.

“What the hell do you mean you don’t have it?” I demanded.  I was becoming frustrated.

“Noah was over yesterday and he said he would take it to Cam and make him read it.  I gave it to him.”

Oh my god? He roped Noah into this?   Does that mean he knows too?  Jesus Max! “What!?!  Noah knows all about this?” I demanded to know.

“No!  I only told him we broke up.  Not WHY.”

“Are you sure this letter that Noah has doesn’t mention me or make it obvious who you are talking about?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied, before pausing and adding “Well I think so.” 

That wasn’t exactly reassuring.  “You THINK so?  Jesus!  I can’t believe you!” I yelled.

“I’m sorry.  I just wanted Cam back so bad,” he replied, once again becoming emotional. 

I paced around the room trying to think.  I had to get my hands on that letter!  “When did you give this to him?”

“Yesterday.  Why?”

“So he hasn’t given it to Cam then, right?”

“No.  They are gone to Wisconsin.  To Noah’s Uncle’s cabin.”

I had totally forgotten!  They left yesterday evening.   We were in charge of checking on the cat and getting their mail.   Maybe this wasn’t quite the disaster I’d imagined.  “Shit.  Right. Okay then, we’re going to Noah’s house right now and getting that damn letter.  You can tell Noah I took you over to get it because you changed your mind about sending it and wanted to make sure he didn’t get it to Cam before you could stop him.”

“Okay,” he replied, nodding as he wiped his face.  I embraced him, once again sorry for having brought him to tears.

***

As I drove Max back to my house, we both sat in silence.   I found myself getting frustrated again as I pondered the situation.  Frustrated at myself for putting so much trust in Max and for giving into temptation in the first place.  Frustrated at Max for writing letters full of incriminating details.   I realized halfway there I’d begun uttering the thoughts running through my head.  “Thank god I took the afternoon off so I can clean up this mess,” I said under my breath, followed by “can’t believe I trusted a stupid teenager.” 

I realized I was vocalizing my thoughts when I heard Max react with a sigh to my last comment.  I looked over at him and was staring down at the floorboard.  “Sorry Max, I didn’t mean that.  Honest.  You’re not stupid,” I told him.   He closed his eyes and nodded acknowledgment, but I knew my words still stung.

I pulled into my garage and we headed to Noah’s house, grabbing their mail on the way.   We dropped the mail on the kitchen island and Max led the way upstairs to Noah’s bedroom.   It had been a while since I had gone upstairs at the Reed’s and Noah had moved some things around since I had last seen his room.  I don’t know why, but I always find it interesting to be in a boy’s bedroom.  There just something mildly erotic about it.  This is the room they are naked in - the room they jerk off in at night.  And the room smelled of Noah.   “Well, let’s find this letter so I can get you home,” I suggested.  “What does it look like?”

“It’s just in a plain white envelope with Cam’s name on the outside,” Max replied.  He had already begun to look among the few items atop Noah’s dresser, chest, and desk. “I don’t see it.”

“Maybe he hid it just to make sure his mom didn’t read it.  Noah IS a smart one,” I answered.   “Check the desk.  I’ll look under the bed.”

I dropped to my knees and peered into the darkness under Noah’s bed.  There were a couple of baseballs, a pencil, and a sharpie along with some old board games under the foot of the bed.  I spun myself around to look under the other end.  There were some larger objects there but I couldn’t see very well to make out what they were.   They were clearly too large to be a letter, so I am not sure why I cared, but at that point I was curious.  I reached under and pulled out the nearest object.   It was a hand towel that was crusted over in several spots, like it had been used to wipe up a glue spill.  “Ewww!” I exclaimed, unsure what it was exactly.

“Huh,” Max asked, “What is it?”  I held up the towel for Max to see.  “Oh man,” he said laughing.  “Noah would die if he knew you found his garmuc!”

“His gar what?” I asked, confused.

“Garmuc.  You know, cum rag.   You never heard of a garmuc?” he asked as if I were an idiot.  “It’s cumrag, spelled backwards.”  

It was clearly one of the things I missed out on by raising daughters.  I couldn’t believe it didn’t register with me immediately what this thing was.  I’d always just used Kleenex, or perhaps a dirty sock when I was a teen.  It never dawned on me that someone would keep a towel handy to use - repeatedly.  Does he ever wash it?  How long did it take him to get it this crusty?  “Sorry, I must have missed that one,” I replied.  Without thinking, I stuck my nose into the towel, inhaling the familiar bleachy smell of cum.  It reminded me of sniffing Noah’s underwear after he had a wet dream in Colorado, just before I laundered them for him.  It was the exact same smell. “Yep, I guess you’re right.  It is a cum rag,” I said.

I was curious now what the larger object under the bed might be.  I used my phone for light and bent down to look again.  I saw a hand held massage unit plugged into the wall under his headboard.  I pulled it out and showed Max, turning the power on and off a few times.  “Well, I am pretty sure I know what he’s been using this for,” I said.  “And I don’t think it’s for a sore back.”  

I was conjuring the image of Noah vibrating his thick cock to orgasm in my head when Max barked at me.  “Just put that stuff back,” he commanded rather sternly before adding a softer “please.  We have to find the letter.”  Max opened and checked two more desk drawers. “It’s not in here.”

“Where would you hide a letter Max?” I asked.  “Think like a 14-year-old.”

“Very funny.  First place I’d hide it would be my desk.   Then maybe inside a book.  Or in my backpack” I replied.

“Great ideas,” I replied and scanned the room.   “I don’t see any books, so that’s out.”  I went to Noah’s closet and found his backpack hanging up on a hook, but it was completely empty.   “Any more ideas?”

 “Underwear drawer!” he exclaimed as if he had an epiphany.  “I’ve hidden things underneath my underwear before.  Nobody is going to want to look through a guy’s underwear.”

“Nobody?” I asked raising my eyebrows.  Looking through a boy’s underwear drawer might be the first thing I’d do in a boy’s room.

“You know what I mean.  MOST people.”  Max went to Noah’s dresser and opened the top drawer.   I found it interesting that Max knew exactly which drawer held Noah’s underwear.  He rummaged around for a few seconds and then pulled something out.  “Yes, I’m a genius!” he exclaimed, holding up an envelope smiling.   As he held it up for me, I noticed his broad smile quickly droop, a look of concern coming over his face. “Oh my god!” he said in a whisper, almost gasping.

“Is that it?” I asked.  “Is something wrong?”

 “Yeah, that’s it.  That’s my handwriting on the outside. See I wrote Cam’s name with a green sharpie,” he answered.  He still acted as if something bothered him.

“You’re acting like something is wrong Max,” I said.

“No, it’s nothing.  This is it,” he replied unconvincingly.   

Something wasn’t making sense.  He should have been excited to find the letter.   I leered at him with my arms crossed.  “Max. Remember how I told you earlier you were a terrible liar?  Well I can tell something is wrong right now.  Spill it.”

He sighed.  “It’s just that I don’t remember taping it shut.”   He turned the envelope around towards me.  “See.”   Both seams had a long strip of scotch tape over them.

I understood now why Max’s mood had shifted.   He realized the same thing I did.  Noah clearly read the letter and taped it back shut.  “Oh shit! So that means Noah got curious and opened it and then added the tape to seal it back up.  He read your letter, Max.”

Max nodded in agreement.  I snatched the letter from him.  “Well, let’s see what Noah might have learned.”  I tore open the letter and sat down on Noah’s unmade bed and started reading.   I made it through the first three paragraphs without finding any cause for alarm.   Max had been vague, referring to having sex with “other guys” and talking about how he never meant to hide it.   He’d done a great job of speaking in generalities.  I clearly knew what he was referring too, as would Cam, but anyone else reading the letter wouldn’t be able to connect it to me.

But just as I got to the end of the first page, one line caused my head to spin.   In an attempt to defend me, he had written:   He wouldn’t have taken me to Mexico just to fuck me. 

I instantly began to sweat and my mouth went dry.   My hands started to shake.  Noah clearly now knows that I fucked Max.  There is nobody else that could have taken Max to Mexico.  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I exclaimed.  “Sweet mother of god, NO!  God dammit Max!” I yelled, staring at him.  “He wouldn’t have taken me to Mexico just to fuck me,” I read.  I looked at him.  I could feel my face reddening with anger.   “Who else took you to Mexico Max?  Huh?  Who could that be?  Dammit Max!” I yelled, wadding up the letter and throwing it against the wall.  “It was bad enough having another teenager know what we did.  Now it appears I have to deal with Noah knowing too.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he screamed, real tears flowing down his face.   He stared at me momentarily and bolted out the door and down the stairs.  A few seconds later I heard him slam the door to the garage shut.   I flopped back onto Noah’s bed and stared mindlessly at his ceiling.  Why? Why does this situation have to just keep getting worse?  Why can’t Max ever manage to do things right?  What a fucking disaster.  I was just beginning to think this would just maybe blow over, but with another boy in the know, that seemed highly unlikely.   Is Noah having a heart to heart talk with Adam while they are fishing?  I could just see it.  “Dad, do you think it’s ever ok for a man to have sex with someone not quite 18?” 

I thought I at least had an outline of a plan, but now I had nothing.   On top of all that, I had an upset 14-year-old downstairs that I needed to console and get back before Kim came home.   I picked up the balled-up letter and stuffed it and the envelope into my pocket.  I slowly made my way downstairs, trying to think of what to say to Max.   All week long it seems I go from being so angry with him that I could kill him to feeling sorry for him.   I realized he does keep trying to make amends.  But my god, he never gets it right!

***
                I found Max sitting in the dark garage, on the stair just beyond the door.   I was not sure what to say to him.   I leaned over and gently gripped his shoulder from behind.  “You ready for me to get you home?” I asked. 

“I guess,” he mumbled.  It was obvious by the sound of his voice that he had been sobbing.  That’s all it took for me to begin to pity him again.  

“Listen… Max,” I said.

“What?” he snarled, implying he didn’t want to talk to me.

“I didn’t mean to get so angry again.  It’s just…” I began.

“Just WHAT?  I’M SORRY, OKAY?  I’M FUCKING SORRY!  I know you hate me,” he yelled, jerking his shoulder away from me. “I keep trying to do the right thing, I DO!” he managed to bark between sobs.  “But everything I try only makes it all worse.  I’m so stupid. Everyone would just be better off without me,” he sobbed and then buried his face into his hands.

I knew that I had to get him to calm down.  Max was putting the entire blame on himself and that wasn’t fair.  I was the adult who had failed to act like one.   I walked around to his front and crouched, placing my hands on his shoulders.  “Max, buddy,” I said, but his face remained buried in his hands.  “Hey,” I said sternly.  He looked up at me through watery eyes.  “Listen. I want to be very clear about something,” I said sternly.  “I could never, ever hate you.  I might be disappointed, but I’m not capable of hating you.”

He opened his hands just enough to yell back, “You should, because I do.  I’m so fucking worthless!”  That hit me hard.   Max’s self-esteem had been cut to nil, and it was all my fault.   I was supposed to be mentoring him to help build him up, but thanks to my lack of self-control, I’d managed to do just the opposite.  “This is why adults don’t have sex with children, you dumb fuck,” I thought to myself.   How did I ever think it was an ok idea?

I rubbed his hair and wiped the tears from his face. “You’re not worthless or stupid either.  You’re 14.”

“So?  What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked.

“It just means you don’t know about things and still make mistakes.  Look at me,” I commanded. “You are not a bad person, okay?”

“But you could get in so much trouble, and it’s all MY fault” he retorted.

I paused, taking a couple of deep breaths. “No, I got myself into trouble Max.  It took both of us to get here.  I can’t blame you,” I said as I stood and pulled him up. “Max,” I said solemnly.  “I know I don’t treat you like a child, and have never really thought of you as one. It’s probably how I justified succumbing to my urges. The truth - and I know you don’t want to hear this - is that you ARE still a kid.  Jesus, your voice hasn’t even changed yet!  You are just starting to learn about and navigate adult things like love, sex, and the ripple effects of your choices.”  He looked up me with a blank look.   I couldn’t tell if he was angry at me for referring to him as a kid or if he was trying to comprehend what I just said.  Eventually, he slowly nodded.

“There’s a reason for laws to prevent kids from having sex,” I continued.  “I’m not trying to be condescending.  I’m just trying to explain why it was unfair and selfish of me to encourage you and Cam to get serious and physical so quickly and fall prey to my own lust. I blame myself for this mess, not you.  You trusted me and I failed to be the responsible adult you needed. I’m sorry.” 

My confession to Max had brought on my own tears. I pulled him into an embrace and just held him tightly for several minutes.  Neither of us spoke.  I think we both needed to be held and neither of us were in a hurry to end the comforting grip of the other.

“What are we going to do Craig?” he finally asked, looking up at me.

“I’m not sure.  I’m not sure what we can do. Unless we can come up with a good story, I’m screwed if they talk.”  

“You mean we’re BOTH screwed!” he countered.  “I get that it would be REALLY bad for you, but it would suck for me too, you know?  I’d probably have lots of annoying strangers prying into my business. Well, OUR business.  My mom would be a basket case.  I’d be forced back into therapy I don’t need or like.  But the worst thing,” he said, looking up at me again.  “The worst thing is I’d lose you.”  He finished and buried his head back in my chest.   He was right.  I’d been thinking about how awful it would be for me, not even thinking about the unpleasant things he would go through.  True, he wouldn’t end up in prison or on a sex offender list, but his next few months wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park.

I caressed his muscular my back and hugged him tightly.  “You’re right.  It would suck for both of us,” I answered and then let him go.   All the crying had worked up a thirst.  I opened the Reed’s garage fridge and grabbed a beer for me and a Coke for Max.  

“I think I could use something stronger,” he quipped as he took it from me.

“Yeah, me too,” I replied as I sipped the beer.  “But I think I’ve corrupted you enough already.”

“You did, but I loved that,” he smirked.  “Maybe Cam and Noah won’t tell anyone,” he suggested.

“Maybe.  But probably not.  It’s too scandalous.”  I sat next to Max on the stair and wrapped my arm around him.  “I guess all we can do is take one step at a time.  First thing is to get rid of these letters,” I said.

“Then what?” he asked.

“Well, we wait and hope, and maybe come up with some brilliant plan.”

“We could both disappear to Mexico and never come back,” he suggested. 

That was the best idea I’ve heard all week.   Being away from all of this with Max by my side would be amazing.  “You know that doesn’t sound half bad right now.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, giving me a faint smile.

As we sat and drank our beverages, our garage conversation from New Year’s Eve came back to me.   We had stood out here and had a drink in the freezing cold as I assured him that I wouldn’t think badly of him if he really wanted a boyfriend.   It was our first real conversation and the beginning of what had been, up until 5 days ago, an awesome year.   “Max, do you remember the party here at New Year’s?” I asked him, wondering if he even remembered that night.

He clearly did.  “Of course,” he answered in an instant, smiling.  “We talked right here, remember?  After I told the whole fucking world that I wanted a boyfriend.”

“Yes.  I was just thinking of that,” I said.

“I did too, when I was waiting for you to come down.  That talk was when I realized you were special Craig,” he said.  “It’s when we became friends.  Right here.  And,” he added, before stopping mid-sentence.

“And what?” I asked.

“I was sure you were going to come down and tell me to get lost, forever.  Right here in the very same spot.  It was almost too much to think about,” he replied sadly.

“This whole thing sucks, and I don’t know what will happen. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but there’s one thing I know with absolute certainty: I wouldn’t - I couldn’t - do that to you. You mean far too much to me to ever pretend you don’t exist,” I replied as I stared at him to convey my seriousness.  It was getting a little heavy, so I tried to lighten the mood.  “Remember, I AM your daddy,” I continued with a laugh.  “Daddies don’t abandon their sons.”

That made him smile and chuckle for a moment.  “But you said that we have to not see each other?” he asked, his mood dropping.

“Well that’s true too, but just for a while, until this shakes out, okay?  I still won’t stop caring or worrying about you, no matter what happens.”  He leaned in and embraced me.

“We better get moving,” I answered as I hugged him back. 

***

We ran back to my house and quickly shredded all of Max’s letters.  One of the things we inherited when my father-in-law passed away was a high-quality shredder.  It didn’t just cut paper into thin strips, it crunched them into small bits.  I’d never been more grateful for it.   It gave me a sense of relief knowing these were destroyed for good.   I made sure Max and I had fully deleted the images from our phones (and the cloud!) and then we left. 

I stuffed the shredded bits of paper into a shopping bag and when we stopped at a convenience store to get gas, I stuffed them into the trash can while the tank filled.  I gave Max $10 so he could run inside for a drink and snack.

As I drove the last few blocks to Max’s house, I tried to think of something to say to him that would end our time together on a positive note.  He said a couple of things back in Noah’s garage that showed his self-esteem was deflated, and I was worried about where he might be mentally.   Of course, I was part to the reason for him feeling down. I lost track of the number of times I brought him to tears since arriving, only a few hours ago.   Usually time spent with Max is fun for both of us.  To think I’d caused him to experience such an emotional roller coaster made me shudder.   I’m supposed to be the adult and be better able to manage my emotions.  Seeing he was down, I should have focused on making him feel better, not use him as punching bag to vent my anger upon.

It had been a crazy afternoon full of wild mood swings.  We had outbursts of anger and then made up multiple times.  I was emotionally exhausted and he was too.  We both cried plenty, but I think it was necessary in a way for us to move on.   Yes, I exploded on him and made him cry, but we worked through it.  It was cathartic to have dispelled my anger, but I still felt shitty for upsetting him.  It was also helpful discussing our fears and expressing our mutual feelings of guilt.  I was sometimes ugly towards Max, but now that we had it out, we could both move towards forgiveness.  While I was far from safe, I felt Max and I’s relationship was back on solid ground.  That might pay big dividends in the coming weeks.

I didn’t want him dwelling on my outbursts.  He needed to know I was back in his corner.  When I pulled into his driveway, he unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the door.  “Wait a second Max,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Yeah,” he asked, glancing back at me.

“Before you go, I ..uh…just wanted to say I’m sorry for losing my temper today.   I love you and I know it hurt you.”

“It’s okay, I deserved it,” he replied. 

“No.  I didn’t need to treat you like that.  You don’t hurt people you love.  I know I said we should not spend as much time together, but I’m still here for you.  Promise me you’ll text me if you really need to talk to someone?”  

“I promise,” he said before leaning over and hugging me.  “I’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” I replied.  “You need to forgive yourself and try to move on.   Do something fun, okay?  Get back to eating well and sleeping.  I didn’t say anything, but you looked like hell when I got here.  Take better care of yourself.  Pick up your room.  Your mom is going to know something is wrong really soon if you don’t, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he replied.  “Spencer is supposed to spend the night tomorrow.”

“Good.  Have fun with it, even if you have to force yourself.”

I watched him walk inside.  He appeared to wipe a tear away as he waved goodbye before closing the door.  I wasn’t sure I said nearly enough to leave him feeling good about himself.  He still seemed upset and I was helpless to do much more about it.  All the way home I thought of other things I could have said.   When I got home, I sent him a text message with a corny gif of a ghost giving a hug with the caption: “Ghost hug!  You can’t feel it but it’s there!”.   I added my own text: “I hope you’re feeling better.  Have fun with Spencer!”  I’d never considered texting GIF like that, but I thought it was a good time to be playful.

His response made me laugh.  “Lol you’re so cringey” he replied, including an eye roll emoji.   Then he sent a gif of his own.  It was a smile face say “Thanks” and flashing a thumbs up.    I had to admit, GIFs were kind of fun.

***

The next morning I went over to Noah’s house to feed the cat.  I decided to take a quick peek in Noah’s room to make sure we left it in order.  It was a good thing I did, because I immediately realized we left his underwear drawer wide open.   It would have been obvious to Noah that someone took the letter.   Before closing it, I had to review Noah’s underwear offering.  He didn’t have much variety.  They were all athletic style boxer briefs, mostly solid colors, but some had wild designs.

Having put things back in place, I couldn’t resist the urge to do another inspection of Noah’s garmuc.   I tried to count the number of cum spots.  There were at least 6 or 7 different crusty spots.   How long did it take him to collect that many?  It could be a couple weeks or a couple days.  Would you consider me a complete pervert if I told you I sniffed it again?  If I had felt the least bit sexual, I might have lay on Noah’s bed and jerked off while I sniffed the sweet scent of Noah’s juices, possibly adding my own cum to his garmuc.   But after the past week, I just didn’t have the sexual drive.

I made a stop in Jackson’s room before I left.  I wondered if Noah had learned about keeping a cum rag from his older brother.  I checked under Jackson’s bed and in his nightstand, but found no cum rag – only a box of Kleenex and some lotion conveniently placed next to his alarm clock.

***

The rest of Saturday turned out to be a normal, lazy day.   I mowed the yard and cleaned up the garage and then went into work for a few hours.  I was establishing my alibi of being too busy to spend time with Max.  I did do a little work, but mostly I surfed the internet and played on my phone.  I hadn’t heard anything from Max, which was good news because he promised to contact me at the first sign of trouble.  Just before I left work, I saw a story he posted at the movies with Spencer.  He seemed happy enough, which gave me reason to feel a little more at ease.  

Kim wanted to go out to eat, so we went to this little Indian restaurant that we both adore.    After the turmoil of the past several days, I was finally able to relax.   I knew I was still in serious danger, with Noah and Cam both having knowledge that could sink me.  But seeing Max out having fun with Spencer was enough of a lift I was able to put it out of my mind for a night.  Great food with a good bottle of wine helps too.

Back home, I let Kim talk me into watching a movie.  We snuggled on the couch and watched a romantic comedy together.  I even managed to enjoy it.

As the movie ended, the local news did their usual teaser about the upcoming broadcast.  I was just starting to get up with the intention of turning in.   The top story made my heart race.  “Coming up next, a local teacher has been arrested and charged with sexual abuse of a minor in connection with one of his male students.”   Just hearing about someone else getting caught was enough to send me into a panic.   I disguised my nervousness by unloading the dishwasher as I waited for the commercial break to end.

In hindsight, I should have not listened to the story.  I was surprised at the number of details they gave out.   The man was a 35-year-old math and science teacher at a private school.  The alleged “inappropriate touching” happened multiple times over the summer at a computer camp he helped run.   “The man faces up to 125 years imprisonment if found guilty on all counts,” the anchor read.  Jesus!  The rest of his life for what sounded like inappropriate touching – possibly oral sex.   For what I did with Max, especially transporting him out of the country, I’d never see daylight again.  It made me so anxious that I dropped a stack of plastic cups. 

When the story ended, Kim commented.  “I just don’t get it. What would a grown man possibly want sexually with a boy?”

“Beats me,” I replied, trying my best to act disinterested.

She carried on.  “That poor boy.  He must have been so scared.  Can you imagine someone hurting Noah or Max like that?”

“No,” I replied.  “But I don’t think you have to worry about either one of those two.   Neither one has the personality to be pushed around.  Someone trying something with either of them would be in for a rude awakening.”  I grabbed the bottle of Benadryl.  I was going to need help sleeping.

** End of Chapter 26 **

Author’s notes:

I hope i've adequately captured the fear of someone fearful their boy-love secret is about to be exposed.  I've never had the experience, so I tried to imagine what it would be like.  I hope I've done the panic one must feel justice.

Many thanks to J who spent an incredible amount of time editing this chapter for me.

Continued feedback appreciated as always – craigpnifty@protonmail.com.