Date: Mon, 2 Jun 2008 16:12:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Eleven

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Want to read a couple of good stories?  Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give".  They are both excellent.


Chapter Eleven:  Second Time Around


"Hey, Dad!"  Number two son sounded as though he was having a good time and
happy.  "Guess where we are."

"Well, rather than guess, can I just say that I hope you are in
Jacksonville and your grandmother is standing nearby?"

"Heeeyy!  Good guess.  Grandma said we needed to call and let you know we
got here."

"Okay, I do appreciate the call.  Consider the little talk we had just
before you guys left as being repeated and I'm sure neither of you will
give your grandmother a hard time?"

"Da-ad, you know better than that.  We're not babies."

"Just fulfilling my parental duty, son.  Do you think I could speak to your
grandmother now?"

"Richard?  Hey."  I never understood why Mother always said my name
followed by the greeting; but, that was Mother.

"Hi, Mother.  I don't suppose it would do any good to ask you not to spoil
them too much, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't.  I plan to enjoy having them around and won't be giving
that aspect of the visit any thought."

"For some reason Mother, that doesn't surprise me.  Besides, I want to you
to thoroughly enjoy them.  What I really wanted to ask you was whether you
followed through with your idea for a gift for them; the idea we discussed
at Thanksgiving?"

"I did just as we discussed."

"Good, now I know how to finish my shopping.  Tell the boys I said to have
a good time and they don't need to call me every night. I know they'll be
getting excited and have their minds focused elsewhere.  I'll see you next
week.  Okay?"

"I'm sure you'll hear from them at least once before you get here; maybe
more.  We'll look for you next week."

                                           * * * *

I pulled up to the curb and parked the car.  Looking around, you wouldn't
realize that one of the biggest holiday seasons of the year was upon us.
The neighborhood was quiet and peaceful either because the people were gone
or, possibly, didn't celebrate the season as lavishly as Kathy and I used
to.  I also remembered being very nervous and almost leaving the last time
I came here.  This time, I was nervous with anticipation.  It was time to
go.

"Rick, it's good to see you again.  Actually, it's nice to see you again."

"David, it's good to be with you again."

He looked just as handsome and erotic as I remembered.  There was something
special about the way he handled himself that made me feel very
comfortable.  For what I wanted, trust and comfort were critical; at least
to me.  He smiled as he approached me, hooked his arm through mine, and led
me to the bedroom.  He did a slow, but not too slow, erotic striptease and
I was ready to drool over his fabulous body.  What was it about him?  I
wasn't sure, but I didn't care if I ever truly defined that special
'something' so long as he kept it.

We stepped into the warm shower where he began to give me the most relaxing
bath I could remember, except for my last visit.  Standing behind me, he
wrapped his arms around me ad ran his palms up and down my torso.
Occasionally, he paused and played with a nipple, causing me to inhale
sharply.  I could feel his strong, semi-erect manhood rub my crack and
didn't want it to ever end.  When he stepped around in front of me, I
lifted his face with a finger under his chin and our lips brushed lightly.
I was more than twice his age, but I was putty in his hands.

His hands moved to my back, then my sides, then my front, then my hips, and
then they supported my manhood and accompanying package.  God, his hands
felt warm, and comfortable.  I felt him gently push me against the wall as
he kneeled and suddenly, my tool was enveloped in a warm satiny enclosure.
I whimpered as my knees went weak.

After the shower he wrapped us both in a terry cloth robe that must have
been hanging on a warming rack.  We walked out to the living room where
soft jazz played through the built-in speakers.  We sat on the sofa; a tray
with a bottle of wine and glassessat on the coffee table before us.  I
turned and pulled my right leg under my left and faced him.  He said
something that didn't register.  I leaned forward and kissed him.  He
tasted as wonderful as he looked.

"Rick, are you sure that you want this?  Remember, I said in our emails
that you could back out anytime you wanted.  That still holds.  No
obligations."

"If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have come.  I hope you realize that I
wouldn't allow just anyone to do this.  No, I want it and I need for you to
teach me the right way.  No quickies; we'll take our time and do it right.
That's why I've allowed for the whole weekend.  Are you beginning to have
second thoughts?"

"No.  But I don't want you to rush things either.  I'm curious though.  Why
now?"

I took another sip of my wine and then set the glass down.  Turning, I lay
down with my head in his lap.  He began running his fingers through my
hair.  That was always a horrible, but wonderful, weakness of mine; I loved
the feeling and the way it relaxed me.

"David, I'm going to tell you something I've never really told anyone else.
At least, not in so many words.  When I was your age, and even a little
younger, I was an idiot!  An absolute, naïve idiot!  I promised myself that
if I was ever fortunate enough to have sons, I would be as open and honest
with them as I possibly could and make sure they didn't grow up as naïve as
I did.  Of course, now, I have two wonderful sons that need guidance and
have asked me for help.  My problem is that society's rules and my old
background are giving me a hard time."  David sat there with my head in his
lap, both of us wrapped in terry robes; his fingers running through my
hair.  He didn't say anything; he just waited.

"There's something I want us to do," I continued, "I want to experience
anal sex.  I want to know what it's like to fuck with another guy and I
want it both ways.  I want to experience being both the top and the bottom.
Just understand that in either situation, I'm a virgin.  Given what I've
already confessed to you, I don't mind looking like an idiot, at least a
little bit, with you."

"That's a long ways from what we did on your last visit.  As I recall, I
was trying to give you some pretty strong feelings using my mouth and you
pulled me up on top and proceeded to hump me like there was no tomorrow.
That was a nice kiss, too.  You definitely have that part of making-out
down pat."  As he spoke, David moved his hand under my robe and lightly
brushed his fingertips over my nipples.  I closed my eyes and took a deep
breath, holding it until he pinched my right nipple, causing me to exhale,
sharply.

"You showed me pictures of your sons.  They're both what my generation
would call hot, or sex magnets.  They shouldn't have any trouble finding
all the action they can handle.  No offense; just an observation."

"The older one told me he was gay. The younger boy has suggested he might
be.  They have a good friend back home that they've told me they've fooled
around with.  Nothing real heavy, just some masturbation, games, and a
little fellatio."

"Fellatio?  You don't consider that heavy?"  I could hear the laughter in
David's voice.

"Well, it could be worse.  I asked Mike, my older boy, if he had done any
serious cuddling with another guy and he told me he hadn't.  He's afraid
he'll do it wrong and make himself look stupid.  I think it's called a
little insecurity."

"Let me guess.  He wants dear ol' dad to teach him how, so he doesn't make
a fool of himself."

David didn't say any more.  I felt him shift under me.  Enjoying the feel
of his hand rubbing over my chest and his fingers in my hair, I lay there
with my eyes closed.  Then, I felt the touch of his warm, soft lips on my
mouth.  I didn't have to open up for him, he pushed his way in and I
reveled in his taste and feel.  Placing my hand on the back of his head, I
held him close, not willing to break our joining.  Soon, I whimpered into
his mouth as he whimpered into mine.  My excitement was further stimulated
by his left hand, busy playing with my nipples; caressing, pinching,
pulling.

Breaking the kiss, I rolled over and faced him.  His hand went to my back,
his other hand again stroked through my hair.  I pulled his robe open and
inhaled, deeply; intoxicated by his fresh, youthful aroma.  I marveled at
the soft silky feel of his skin as I kissed and licked through the crevasse
formed where thigh meets torso.  Burying my nose in his scrotum, I couldn't
believe how soft the tissue felt.  He kept himself partially shaved, but I
couldn't feel any stubble.  Rolling off the sofa, I sat on my heels between
his legs.  After rubbing his manhood over my face, I reached up and slipped
his robe off his shoulders.  He started to say something and I pressed a
finger to his lips.  I didn't want anything to disturb the electricity I
was experiencing at that moment.

Taking my time, I tasted every square inch of him I could reach.  I thought
of nothing except to experience as much of him as I could.  He didn't moan
much, but he took a lot of sharp breaths and tensed quite often.  I loved
his puffy nipples, so typical of youth.  I couldn't help but wonder what it
would be like to coat them in raw honey and then lap it up.  His neck was
firm, but soft.  As I kissed and sucked, he didn't try to stop me, but let
me explore my feelings.  As my tongue entered his ear, I could smell the
freshness in his hair from our recent shower.  Somewhere along the way he
pushed my robe off my shoulders.

After thoroughly rimming his ear, I dropped back to his lap and licked his
manhood like it was a lollipop.  I always liked Tootsie Roll Pops and I
worked his hard to reach the treat in the center.  Opening wide, I took as
much as I could until he reached the back of my throat; I gagged.  I had
read about deep-throating and how good it could feel and wanted to be able
to deep-throat him.  Backing up, I tried again, and gagged.

"Easy Rick; one step at a time.  Swallowing someone is not as easy as they
make it sound in books.  It takes time, patience . . . . and practice."

Controlling my breathing so I breathed only through my nose, I was able to
keep a seal around his pole while I slowly moved up and down, coating it
with saliva.  Sometimes, I held just the mushroom head in my mouth,
swirling around the sensitive ridge with my tongue.  A couple of times I
released his pole and bathed his silky scrotum.  He winced when I got a
little clumsy while trying to suck in one testicle at a time.  He survived
long enough for me to learn how without hurting him.

He was patient.  He let his student learn at his own pace.  He let me learn
how to please another man; not from reading about it, but from experience.
This was a totally new experience for me, but an experience I had known
that I wanted for a long time.  In the beginning, I tried to remember a
number of the things I'd read about that turned guys on.  Somewhere along
the way I stopped thinking and just did; I followed my instincts.  I never
realized my instincts could be that hot!

Two hands rested on my head.  His breathing and tensing was an absolute
turn-on.  I licked, sucked and blew; I even hummed.  I read in a story that
if you hum, the vibrations carry through to your partner.  I made a mental
note to ask David, later.  His hips didn't buck into my face, but they
definitely squirmed.  He moaned and warned me he was close.  I got a firm
grip on his hips, determined to take what he offered.  It was funny to me,
but I never realized the end of your dick will jump a little just before
you shoot; at least David's did.  He groaned and my mouth was full; I
forgot to swallow. When I remembered, I almost choked myself.  But I kept
swallowing, pressing his tool between palate and tongue.  I could feel his
juice ooze out the sides of my mouth.

When he finished shooting and I finished trying to avoid choking myself, I
tried to be cool and backed off slowly, licking his full length as I did.
He placed a hand on each side of my face and lifted my head.  I looked up
and saw him smiling at me.  I returned the smile.  It was sloppy, but it
was an incredible experience.  He reached down and kissed me.  I held him
by the shoulders and pulled him down on top of me as I fell backwards.  We
broke the kiss, laughing.  I had to look ridiculous; like a kid who had
never had anyone shoot in his mouth before.  He licked the surplus off my
face and held me tightly; humping me as he cleaned me.  Soon, I made a mess
between us and we needed to clean up.

                                           * * * *

There is something to be said about having a balcony that overlooks the
bay.  It was amazing to sit on the balcony and watch the reflections of the
setting sun play across the water.  It was even more special when the
balcony was mostly private and became private with a few strategically
placed plants.  After our shower, during which I bathed him, he brought out
our robes again.  I let him know I wanted to admire him, naturally, if he
didn't mind.  Actually, I wanted to stay naked, just as my sons enjoyed
doing back home.  Sitting on the balcony, feeling the warmth of the setting
sun and the light breeze blow over the normally protected parts, I
remembered why it was so nice and why my sons preferred to run natural.

"You look as though you're deep in thought.  Think too much and you can
miss the pleasure of the moment."  David sounded more mature than his
years.

"Did you learn that from your mentor?"

"Partly," David answered quietly.  "Partly from experience; I missed a
lot."

"So have I . . . . so have I."

"Rick, can I stick my nose where it doesn't belong?"  I glanced at him with
a smile and waited.  "A few years ago, when I was fourteen, I knew that I
was gay.  I also knew that I was scared to death.  I had the usual phobias
and fears about what would happen if kids at school found out; fear of
being beaten up every day, fear of being ridiculed; the usual.  It didn't
take too long before I was even afraid to fall asleep.  I was afraid I'd
talk in my sleep and let myself out without meaning to.  Finally, I figured
that I had to talk to someone, so I decided I needed to talk to my father.
We had always had a pretty good relationship and he always said he would be
there for me, no matter what.  Well, turned out there were some
qualifications to his 'no matter what'.  My being gay was one of them.

"There's no way anyone can explain to you what it's like - the fear, the
feeling of being absolutely alone, the guilt, the knowledge that you're
different, the hurt of being told you're no better than trash - when your
own family disowns you and puts you on the street.  The people who helped
me were my friends from school.  When they asked me why I didn't go home, I
lied and said my old man had hit me and I was afraid.  Eventually, I wound
up telling most of them the truth.  Funny, the people I thought might cause
me the most harm were the ones that stood by me.  They didn't care if I was
gay.

"At school, kids would share their lunch with me.  After school, I'd hang
around and act like I was there for a club meeting or some other school
function.  Of course, when that played out kinda thin, there was always the
mall.  Sometimes, when I had the money, I'd buy a ticket at the theater and
move from one movie to the next without buying another ticket.  One of my
friends worked at the concession stand and sneaked me cokes and stuff.
It's a miracle I didn't get all of us in trouble, and him fired.

"At night time, I had two or three buddies that would get food out of their
kitchen for me.  I'd go over to their house and hide in the bushes till I
saw the light come on in their room.  They'd unlock the window for me and
I'd climb in.  Usually, they had leftovers for me to eat for supper, and
I'd lay on the floor and sleep.  The next morning, I'd sneak out the window
before their folks were up.  Clothes weren't any real problem since most of
us wore the same size.  Sometimes I'd shower at a friend's house or, if
push came to shove, I could shower at school after gym class.

"I made it through most of the school year like that. I had contact with my
sister once in a while and she'd give me money.  She also let me know that
Dad was still royally pissed with me and swore he'd never let me back home.
I never tried to go back.  The trouble hit when summer came and school was
out.  When my friends left on vacation there was no place for me to go
during the day.  I got a job at McDonald's by forging my parents' names and
signatures, but that was temporary.  I wound up on the streets.  The first
time somebody offered me money for a blow job, I freaked.  Talk about a
kick in the teeth!

"Jules, that was my mentor's name - it was really Julius, but he hated to
be called by his real name - found me.  He told me later that I was the
sorriest and most inept looking hooker he'd ever seen.  Worse, he said that
at the time, I just looked plain pitiful."  David smiled as he relived his
memory.  "I offered to blow him for ten bucks.  Can you imagine that?  He
asked me if I was really that desperate; I started to cry and just nodded.
He cupped my face in his palms and kept looking in my eyes.  I wasn't sure
what to say or think.  He looked from one eye to the other like he was
trying to read something printed on my eyeballs.  Finally, he looked at me
and said, "Boy, I don't know why you're out here hookin', but you
definitely don't belong here.  You need to learn to trust someone, and
right now, I'm all you got.  Come with me."  He took me by the arm and led
me; I didn't resist.  There wasn't any resistance left in me.  I not only
needed help, I wanted someone to guide me and tell me how to get out of the
mess I was in.

"Jules took care of me till the day he got killed, and then some.  This
condo was his.  He also had a trust set up for me.  It's not huge by any
means, and before I could get the full benefit of it, I had to go to
college and get at least a bachelor's degree.  I'm working on my graduate
degree now, thanks to him.  I remember him always telling me not to be
ashamed of what we did so long as we did it with class and could hold our
heads high.  He said what I did when he found me was hookin', and that was
cheap and I was better than that.  Jules said there was a big difference
between being a whore and being an escort.

"Jules let me learn to trust again.  He taught me to believe in myself.
The first time I tried to get in bed with him, he literally kicked me out
of the bed and I landed on my butt.  He pushed me out the door and towards
my own room.  I remember hearing the door close and the sound of the lock.
He told me he wouldn't have me there if it was because I thought I owed
him.  I asked him what he wanted from me.  When I think about what I said,
I really feel ashamed, even now.  I asked him if he thought I owed him my
ass and he really got mad with me.  Looking back, I know that he really did
care; otherwise, he would have thrown me out ten times by then.

"After a while, I got to where I'd curl up on the sofa with him.  I liked
to put my head in his lap and he'd run his fingers through my hair; just
like we did while ago.  He never, ever, made a move on me.  I just kept
waiting for him to let me know he wanted me.  When I say me, of course I
meant my body.  He didn't do it.  When he let me curl up on the sofa with
him, I decided to get brave again.  I'd come out of the shower wearing just
my little shower wrap.  I knew that when I lay down, everything would show.
He ignored me.  Before long, I'd lay awake at night waiting for him to go
to bed.  I'd sneak into his room.  I knew he slept naked; so did I.  I'd
slip under the covers and then I'd feel his arm wrap around me and pull me
into him.  God, he felt good.  If I wiggled any, he always whispered in my
ear, 'Try anything and your butt will hit the floor.'  He meant it, too.
It took several more months before he let me blow him, and that was only
because I started while he was asleep."  I looked at David and could see
tears forming in his eyes and a look of sadness on his face as he relived
the memories.

"I was about seventeen and a half when I told him I wanted to learn to be
an escort.  If looks could kill!  We argued like you wouldn't believe.  He
insisted that I wouldn't learn to escort and I insisted that I would.  He
insisted that I get a college education and I insisted I could still be a
well educated escort.  In time, I broke him down and he started teaching me
about wines, food, theater, clothes and other things.  He wouldn't let me
escort though.  He said I should know those things to lead a good life,
anyway.

"After I turned eighteen and I was in my senior year of high-school,
someone called looking for a father-son escort team.  Someone Jules knew
had given out his number.  There was a message on the answering machine and
I happened to hear it.  I told him we should do it, and he got a little
upset.  After more than a little arguing that night, he finally agreed but
only so long as my butt was off limits.  Our dates that night turned out to
be another father-son couple.  We didn't know if they really were, it
wasn't any of our business.  It wasn't too long after that, before I turned
nineteen, that he legally became my father.

"He was my teacher, my friend, my lover, my mentor, and finally, my dad.
People, and society in general, would not approve of what we did; we didn't
care.  In time, he taught me how to show love to others by both giving and
receiving.  This world would be a lot more peaceful if everyone could
experience what I did with him.  He finally gave up fighting me over
working as an escort, but he insisted on screening the people.  He was
always my protector.  He knew that I never allowed anyone to penetrate me;
that part of me was exclusively his.

"Love your sons. Take care of them, teach them and trust them.  Most
important of all, don't ever violate the love and trust they have for you.
Screw society and do what you feel is right.  It all works out."

I sat there and looked at him.  I didn't move and I didn't say anything.
He was a young man, physically, but emotionally and intellectually he had
aged well beyond his years.  Jules must have been one helluva guy.  I knew
one thing, he was certainly one very lucky guy.  They both were.  At that
moment, I also felt very lucky, and content.

David rose from his chair and approached me.  There wasn't anyway that I
could accurately describe how I felt about him.  He had this air about him
that said he wasn't threatening or judgmental.  I had just met him during
the Thanksgiving vacation the boys and I took, plus we had exchanged a
number of emails in the interim.  I trusted him enough to tell him my
problems and ask for his help.  He handed me his glass of wine to hold
while he straddled my lap.  I just stared at that beautiful body.  He
settled onto my lap, leaned over and kissed me on the neck while he tweaked
my nipples, and asked,

"What was it you wanted me to teach you?"

                                           * * * *

When my cell phone rang, I recognized the number but could only guess who
was calling from Mother's phone.  "Hello."

"Hey, Dad!  How's it goin'?"

"It was going quietly.  How's it goin' with you and Mikey?  Are you two
behavin'?"

"Dad?  How could you ask that?"  Frank feigned being offended.  "You know
we're always good; we're perfect gentlemen!  Besides, even if we weren't
we'd say we were and Grandma would back us."  My little smart-ass second
son was enjoying himself.  "Grandma thought we should call and let you know
we're still around and missin' you a little."

"Just a little?"

"Yeah, we're havin' too much fun to miss you a lot right now."  He had to
stop and laugh; he definitely sounded as though he was having a good time.
"Oh, and you wouldn't believe some of the stuff Grandma showed us about
when you wee a kid.  Did you know she has a picture of you wearin' a dress?
I can't wait ta hear you explain that one."

"It was no big deal. We were in elementary school putting on a play.  All
the girl parts were played by boys, the girls played the boy parts.  Don't
ask me why, we just thought it was fun.  Why?  Are you thinking about
wearing a dress, now?"  I knew that would make him take off in a different
direction.

"No!  You will be proud of us though.  We've kept our clothes on
. . . . most of the time."

"Most of the time?  Do I want to ask when you didn't keep them on?"

"The same time Grandma said you didn't keep yours on.  She also said you
didn't know that she knew about some of those times.  Mike and I are gonna
have fun with you when you get here."

"You just keep thinking that, kiddo.  Maybe I'll have to have my own fun on
your little backside, too Why don't you let me speak to your brother and
then Grandma?"

"Hey, Dad.  How goes it?"  That was my Michael; always a little different.

"It goes fine, kiddo.  Are you doing alright?"

"Yeah.  I found some old books in Grandma's bookcase, I mean some really
old books.  She had a copy of a school book, it's history, and you wouldn't
believe how small it is.  It's dated in 1886.  It's wild!  She's got a real
set of World Book Encyclopedia from 1936! Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I believe it.  I used them to get through school.  I know you like
reading, but just don't become a recluse with those books, okay?"

"Yes, sir.  Here's Grandma.  Love you, Dad."

"Richard?  Hello."  Mother could never just say "hello" or just say my
name.  It was always my name followed by the greeting.

"Hi, Mother.  Your not letting the boys wear you out are you?'

"Well, if I was, it would be a good kind of wearing out.  We're enjoying
ourselves."

'I know the boys are.  They particularly like the part about you telling
stories on me."

"Oh, yes, they really enjoyed some of that.  I'm just exercising a
Grandparent's prerogative."

"That's a nice way of letting me know that it wouldn't do any good for me
to ask you to not tell the boys embarrassing stories.  Right?"

"Are you still flying in as scheduled?"  Mother abruptly changed the
subject, which meant I was right.

"Yes, but you don't need to meet me at the airport.  I've arranged to rent
a minivan.  Since we'll be there all next week and I'll also have Eric, I
thought it would be more practical.  I'll call you when I get into town and
you can judge what time I'll get to the house from that."

"If you think that's best.  I think at the moment, though, I need to think
about fixing these two teenagers something to eat.  We wouldn't want them
falling over from missing a meal.  Right?"

"Okay, Mother. Give the boys my love and I'll see you in a couple of days."

I closed the cell phone and turned back to David.

"Now, where were we before my son called?"

"We were teaching you how to overcome your gag reflex.  Ready to try
again?"


End Ch Eleven

To Be Continued

Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com