Date: Sat, 15 Nov 2008 11:01:00 -0800 (PST) From: adm2780 Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Twenty-Eight 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 Twenty-Eight: Second Time Around It was Wednesday morning before David could return my call. He began with an unnecessary apology for not calling sooner and explained he was working on his first major mini-convention. He sounded tired, but excited, and I had to ask him to define a mini-convention; I had never heard of a mini-convention. The simple explanation was that it lasted less than a week and consisted of only a few hundred people. I asked him to expound on his first major project and he declined, explaining it would be too boring unless I was into convention work. I insisted he tell me every detail, and learned a lesson. The meeting was for a group that called themselves reptiles. I learned that 'reptile' was an acronym for Real Property, Probate and Trust Law Section of the state bar. The section divided themselves into two groups known as 'dirt' and 'death'. After gaining this earth shattering knowledge I decided that David wasn't tired, he was bored to death. Five days of sitting around and listening to a bunch of lawyers talk about dirt and death did not exactly rate high on my list of 'can't miss' things to do. To David, it was an opportunity to impress his boss with his talents as a convention director and begin his career with a nice feather in his cap. I really was happy for him. I also knew something else; I missed him. David and I talked for a little over half an hour. After I explained the situation with Sean and then my worries with Michael, he expressed the same concerns that I already had. Sean needed to be the priority at the moment. Somehow, I needed to get Sean to understand that he needed to stand up to the people that attacked him. Sean could not be allowed to become a runner; runners become losers and Sean was not a loser. There was also a hope that if Sean's problem could be addressed adequately, Michael's issues might also disappear. Before I hung up I told David that I missed him and he reciprocated. It wasn't what we said, but the way we said it. Why on earth a guy as good looking as David, and as young as David, would want to hang out with a guy my age, not to mention the luggage I carried, I could never understand. However, I did say a small prayer of thanks every night. He had to work the next two weekends and the weekend after that was to be ours. I wasn't sure how I was going to work it out, but I knew that I would. * * * * When I got home after work, I walked in to find Frank in the kitchen, a fire in the fireplace and a wine glass sitting on the breakfast bar. Frank stood at the stove stirring what smelled like spaghetti sauce; he wasn't even wearing an apron. He turned around when he heard me come in. "Hey, Dad. How goes it?" Frank always had an upbeat way of greeting me. "That's what I was about to ask you. What are you working on?" "S'ghetti sauce; the easy way. I browned some ground beef and added a jar of sauce." He stopped stirring and reached in the refrigerator for the wine. "Anything else I need to add?" he asked as he poured the wine and handed me the glass. "A little garlic, a pinch of salt, black pepper and oregano. Let it simmer a few minutes while the spaghetti cooks and you should be done." "Cool. I can handle that." "Uh, Frank, you might want to be careful how hot you let the sauce get. If it decides to start popping and some of that hot sauce hits Little Frankie, believe me, you'll know it." Frank looked at me and laughed as I handed him a full length chef's apron. Now the only thing exposed was his bubble butt. If he backed his butt into a hot stove and got burned, I was pretty sure he would only do it once. "Where's your brother?" "In your bedroom. He's waitin' on you." I gave Frank a questioning look and waited for him to say more. "He's been actin' funny since he talked ta Sean this afternoon. When I asked him what was wrong he told me one of the guys that attacked Sean showed up at the hospital last night with some other kids. Dad, there's only one reason that dude would've showed up." Frank paused to see if I understood what he was telling me. I nodded and headed for my bedroom. "Uh, Dad? I didn't tell ya anything. Okay?" I gave him a little wave to acknowledge what he said and kept moving towards my room. Michael lay on my bed. He was about a quarter of the way on his stomach with his right leg pulled up to keep himself from rolling completely over. He looked to be asleep and I decided to leave him for the moment. Undressing and putting away my clothes as quietly as I could, I was headed out of the room when I heard him. "Da-ad?" Mike almost whined. I turned around and approached the bed. As I got near, he pushed himself up on one arm and looked up at me. All I saw was those puppy-dog eyes filled with sadness. I sat on the bed next to him. "Hey, kiddo. I thought you were asleep." "Only kinda. I been waitin' for you ta get home." I knew he was more than 'kinda' asleep because he looked to still be half-asleep. "Dad. Can we talk?" "You know we can, son. What's wrong?" He didn't answer me until he lay back down and cradled his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair. "I talked ta Sean today; actually, me and him's been talkin' every day. Dad, one of the ass-holes that attacked him came to the hospital with some other kids. The a-hole acted like him and Sean was best buddies and he cared how Sean was doin'. Can you believe that? That guy's got some real bozongas doin' that. Course, what he was really doin' was lettin' Sean know they could get to 'im and he better not squeal on 'em." "Did the kid tell Sean that?" "Noooo." Michael answered me like I was asking the most unreasonable question of all time. "Dad, he didn't have to say that. Sean's not dumb; he knows what these guys mean. You don't really think the fuck-ups gonna come right out and say anythin' with them other kids around, do ya?" Mike took a deep breath and looked into space. "I shoulda been there for 'im, Dad. Me and Sean's always been buds and covered each other." "And if you had been there, do you think things would have turned out any differently. Except, of course, both you and Sean could be in the hospital instead of just Sean. Mike, people like the ones that attacked Sean don't do things fair. They blindsided Sean, and would have done the same thing to you. If you had been there, there isn't anything you could do to make it come out any differently." Mike looked up at me and rolled over so he lay on his stomach. He placed an arm across my chest and pushed me down on the bed as he lay his head close to my arm pit. I rolled over on my side so I could reach across and rub his back. "Sean said you told him he should squeal on the guys that attacked 'im." "Yes, I did. Remember me telling you and Frank that Sean isn't the first boy at school this has happened to this year? Someone has to stand up and stop it before someone else gets hurt. Mike, I understand the teenager's creed about not squealing, but there's a lot of other kids that could be hurt. Also, I don't like thinking about Sean running scared for the rest of his life. He has to stand up for himself." "Dad, Sean's no coward. He's stood up for himself lots of times. It's different though when there's a bunch of guys after ya." "Is it, Mike? Is it really all that different? It's not one or two, or however many, guys we're talking about standing up to. We're talking about standing up to the bigotry and violence pushed onto someone because they may be a little different. Standing up to them doesn't always mean coming to blows face to face. Sean took a beating, but he still has a way to stand up to them and protect others at the same time." Mike didn't answer me other than to shrug a shoulder and lie there while I rubbed his back. He was thinking, and I thought that was good. I decided to broach the subject that concerned me. "The other night, when the three of us played around on the sofa, you sat in my lap with your weight on your knees. When Frank joined us, you leaned back and let me restrain you." "Yeah," Mike acknowledged what I said. "Letting someone dominate you like that isn't your usual method. Before, you've always wanted to be in a mutual pleasuring situation. What I'm trying to ask you, son, is why? I'm concerned you may feel guilty about what happened to Sean and possibly trying to punish yourself." I waited patiently for him to answer. "Maybe. Kinda." Mike sounded unsure of himself which was unusual for him. "I feel bad about Sean and wish I coulda been there. Sometimes, I think I maybe did something I shouldn't and should be punished, but that really wasn't it; I figured that was kinda stupid." He turned to look at me and I could see the hesitation in his eyes. "Dad . . . well, you know that sometimes all us boys have those days where we're just so horned up that all we wanna do is have sex all day. It's not like that everyday, 'cept we do have to get our nut a couple times every day. You know what I mean, don't ya?" I simply nodded and smiled. "Well, sometimes I get these dreams or thoughts, 'specially if I been readin' some stuff on the net, and I get myself all horned up thinkin' 'bout havin' some kinda kinky sex. "One of my things was for somebody to hold me so I couldn't move and I'd be impaled like we were the other night. Then two or three other guys would join us and drive me nuts playin' with my stuff and maybe workin' my nips over real good. If there was another guy, maybe two, they could tongue fuck my ears. While they did all that to me they'd be jackin' off and everybody would cum at the same time and shoot their stuff all over me." Michael paused a moment. "Kinda sick, huh?" "I don't think I would say sick, son. Oversexed, horny, sexually obsessed, hormonal overload and a crazy imagination, maybe. But I don't think I'd say sick." "You wanna hear 'bout some other fantasies I had? I had some real good ones 'bout me and you. There was this one where . . . ." We were interrupted. Thanks heavens. "Hey, you two. Supper's ready and on the bar. Come and get it." "Sorry, kiddo, I didn't mean to leave you in there doing everything. Mike and I just got involved talking." Then I turned to Mike. "You know what this means don't you, Mike? Frank cooked, so you get the dishes tonight." "WHAT!? Man, that sucks!" "No bro, you the one that sucks; real good too." Frank was bouncing around mimicking someone he had seen on television. "But that wasn't our deal. The deal was if I cooked then I get a nice piece of ass for desert; yo little ass." "OOOOOO. And it'll be the best piece o' ass you ever got, too." Michael answered, mimicking and bouncing past his brother. "No, bro. I had that ass before. It sure is nice and I plan on pounding it good. Promise." I listened to the two of them going back and forth as they headed towards the kitchen. Mike bounced along, flexing his glutes to emphasize his bubble butt and tease Frank. I just threw my hands up and plopped back on the bed. * * * * I was cleaning up Mike's after dinner clean-up job when the phone rang; it was Phyllis. She had been to the hospital to check on Sean and knew he was upset. The problem was that Sean wouldn't tell her why. She did learn that Sean and Mike had been talking and hoped I had some insight as to what was going on. "Phyllis, when I got home tonight Michael was also upset. We talked and I found out that one of the boys that attacked Sean has been there to see him." "You mean here, at the hospital?" "That's what Mike said Sean told him. We're guessing that it was a warning to Sean not to say anything. Intimidation." I could hear Phyllis take a deep breath and let it out. "Rick, I'm really lost here. When he was little he always came to me and told me what was wrong. Now, I feel like I'm almost locked out. Give me a clue, could you? What can I do to help him now?" "I don't know any easy answer. Right now, I'd say the most important thing is for you to just be there for him. You know, when kids are little they don't care if other kids see them cry. When there's a problem, they know that Mom or Dad can solve any crisis. When they get to be teens, particularly boys, they think they have to act all grownup and handle things themselves. The biggest problem is they don't understand, or won't admit, they still need help. That's where Sean is right now." "So, what are you telling me? I have to just stand back and let him suffer?" I moved toward the sofa to get more comfortable. I could tell from the exasperation in Phyllis' voice that she didn't understand. As I moved around the room I could see the boys' bedroom door was open. From the sound of the grunts and groans, plus Frank's exclamations of something feeling unreal, I suspected Frank was collecting on his deal with Mike. I just hoped Phyllis couldn't hear them. "Phyllis, just tell Sean that you love him and when he's ready to talk, you'll be there. That may sound a little trite, but it's all you can do right now. Sean needs to work some of this out in his own mind." "Alright, you're the expert with the boys. I'll do what you suggest." Phyllis hesitated and then I heard her tone change. "Rick, have you thought any more about what I asked the other day; you know, about Sean staying with you and the boys? I was planning on talking with Sean tonight if you were still willing. The doctor says he can be released from the hospital in a couple of days and I'm sure he's worried about what could happen to him when he returns to school." "If you're sure that's what you want, and Sean wants, then he's more than welcome to be a part of our home. Why don't you talk with him and I'll talk to my boys. There will be some details we'll have to work out, but I don't see any problems there." "Thank you. I know Sean will be happy and it takes a big worry off me. Don't worry about his expenses, there's a trust set up for him and I'll direct the bank to send his living allowance to you." "When I mentioned details, I was thinking about a power of attorney or guardianship papers of some sort. If he'll identify who attacked him, then we'll need to work out a schedule with the police also. Phyllis, is his trust strong enough for him to attend the same school as the boys?" "His trust has assets a little way into seven digits and it's very lucrative. I'll call my attorney and let him know what's happening and ask him to prepare the papers. Is that alright with you?" When I hung up the phone, I couldn't hear any more sounds coming from the boys' room. They had either learned to be very quiet, which I doubted, or were recovering from their activities. After sitting on the sofa for a couple of minutes, I decided to talk with the boys. I knew the conversation was unnecessary, but they needed to be part of this decision; it was their home, too. When I called the boys, Frank was the first to come out of the room. He walked down the hall, smiling like he was proud of something. He sat on the ottoman in front of me and I could see a light coating of sweat. He also looked as though he had been through quite a workout. "What's wrong, Frank? Is Mike getting to be more than you can handle?" I teased. "No way! But you wouldn't believe what I had ta do. You see, I was supposed to make him shoot twice before I stopped and I had ta do it without touching Little Mikey. I had him on his back and his legs over my shoulders. He kept jumpin' around so much. Every time I stroked across his cherry he flopped around like a fish out of water. I had ta lean over him and pin his wrists down. I was up on my toes to keep my weight on him. When I got the right angle, I stroked his cherry on the up stroke and the down stroke. I did just what I said I'd do, too. I pounded his tight little butt and he begged for more." Frank finished with his famous shit-eatin' grin. "Did you reach your goal?" I was biting the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing. "Oh yeah! You wouldn't believe how much that boy can shoot. His balls must be workin' overtime. He shot his juice all over the front of both of us. In fact," he stopped to wipe under his chin. "Look a there. I still had some under my chin." Frank licked his fingers clean as soon as he stopped talking. Mike joined us a couple of minutes later. He apologized for taking so long, explaining that he had a personal problem to deal with. I couldn't help but wonder if there were any other parents that had to put up with all this. It was going to be interesting if I ever had grandchildren and had the opportunity to tell the tales. "Guys, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I have a question to ask." "Yes, it's okay." Frank answered before I even asked the question. Mike started laughing. "Okay, smart guy. What was I going to ask?" "You were gonna ask us if it was alright if Sean lived with us. Right?" "How'd you know?" "Just because we're in there playin' around doesn't mean we can't hear. You were just talkin' with Sean's mom and our door was open. Was I right?" There was that grin again. "Yes, you're right. However, we need to talk some. Just because Sean may come to stay with us a while doesn't mean the rules change. I still expect the grades and for you two to fulfill your responsibilities. We'll setup the guest room for Sean, He can take care of his room and have responsibilities just like you guys." "Dad, you are kidding us, right?" Frank answered. "You know what happens when Sean stays over. All three of us are in the same room. No big deal, me and Mike are in the same room now." "No, wait, Frank." Mike decided to contribute to the conversation. "The guest room has a queen size bed and we only have doubles. S'pose the three of us move into Sean's room?" I took a deep breath and tossed my head back on the sofa while I exhaled slowly. Michael straddled me and sat in my lap. He put his hands behind my head and lifted it. I found the courage to open my eyes. "Relax. See, the truth is, me and Sean have been tryin' to figure out a way to convince you and his mom that he should come down here while he recuperates. Now, this is a lot better. You and his mom figured it out for us, only better. Can I call Sean and tell 'im?" "No. his mother will be talking to him tonight. I'll assume his answer will be to come here from what you guys are saying. There's something I want all of you to appreciate though. Sean's mother is really making a huge sacrifice to protect him. You need to remind Sean of that so he can do what's right by his mother. Get my message?" "Yes, sir. We will" Michael started bouncing around on my lap. Occasionally, he forgot that he was no longer a light-weight child. "Hey! Guess what? When I feel this good and somethin' this good happens, guess what I feel like doin'?" He bounced around rubbing Little Mikey across my abdomen. "How many guesses do I get?" "None," Mike laughed. "It's titty-twister time!" With that, he grabbed both of my nipples and twisted them. It burned! "Boy! Do you know . . . ." I didn't get any further before Frank attacked me from the rear. He came over the back of the sofa and pushed me and Mike off balance. The next thing I knew I was on the floor wrestling with two hyper teenagers. When I had them on their backs, I applied 'the claw' to their abs. "NOOO! . . .STOP!! . .STOP!! . . .NOOO! . . .AAGGH GAAHD! . ." For two boys that wanted to play they sure knew how to complain. I would have been concerned if it wasn't for the laughter and giggles between their pleas. "Say it," I advised them. "NEVER!" I applied a little more pressure. "NOOO!! . . .AAGGHHH! . . .OKAY! OKAY! . . . UNCLE!! . . .UNCLE!! . .WE GIVE!" "You guys are getting' soft. Maybe you need to start doin' more crunches every night." I teased as the two of them held their abs and rolled in the floor laughing. * * * * We were back in New York Friday night. My original plan was to leave the boys with their grandmother. That was my plan, not the boys' or their grandmother's. She thought I should take them and they might be of some help getting Sean to identify who attacked him. I picked up a rental car and headed for the hospital. On the way I called Phyllis who was already with Sean. When we walked into Sean's room I looked at the boys and could tell they were shocked. I tried to prepare them for how he looked, but like most kids, they didn't take me as seriously as they should. Sean also saw the look on their faces and began getting upset. I got the boys' attention and nodded my head towards Sean. They understood and one went to either side of the bed. The way Mike and Sean looked at one another, I thought they were going to cry. Phyllis and I left the room to give them some time. "I'm glad you brought the boys. I think it'll be good for Sean." "I'm not sure I could have kept them away on this trip. How is Sean?" "Well, if you're asking about the move to Florida with you, I think he's ecstatic. If you're asking about the attack, he's wavering. I'm hoping the boys will help convince him to identify who did this." "Have you talked to Sergeant Morgan recently?" "This morning. I called to let him know what we decided for Sean. He still wants to find the boys who did this, but . . ." "I know; he needs Sean to ID them." "That, and he said he thinks if Sean will testify, there's a good chance one of the other boys will cooperate." We walked nearer the door and could hear both Frank and Mike telling Sean he had to tell who did this if he knew. They reminded him that no one could hassle him when he was in Florida. It didn't happen until the next night after we had taken Sean back to his home. He agreed to tell Sgt. Morgan who the boys were. The only condition Sean asked for was that he could name them at school. When I talked with him about it, he simply stated he had to let those guys know that he wasn't afraid of them, even if he was just a little. Phyllis and I had spent part of Thursday and Friday having Sean's school records faxed to Bolles. Based on his records he was accepted and would begin immediately upon our return. My plan had been to return home Sunday afternoon, but with Sean insisting he identify the boys at school, I postponed our flight until Monday afternoon. We talked with Sgt. Morgan on Sunday. He made the necessary calls to have several plain clothes policemen at the school Monday morning. He also arranged with the principal for the boys to be brought to the principal's office for Sean to identify. At the last minute, the principal asked to be able to call an assembly of all the students. He wanted the students to know what had happened and who did it and that such activities would not be tolerated. I wasn't sure how Sean would react, but he seemed enthused over the idea. Sean told us a lot of the students had come to the hospital to visit him so probably everyone at school knew what had happened. He was also willing to bet a lot of the students knew who did it, too. Such things worked their way through the school grapevine. We arrived at the principal's office at the designated time and within a few minutes the assembly was called. Fifteen minutes later the principal was calling the students to order. The boys and I stood off stage. When the students quieted down, the principal turned and signaled Sean to walk out. Sean took my arm letting me know he wanted me to go with him. When we reached the podium, Sean just stood there and looked at the students for a long minute. Then, he surprised us by unbuttoning his shirt. He asked for help getting it off. It wasn't pretty with the bandage around his ribs and the bruises. He took the microphone and stood center stage where everyone could see him. You could hear the murmur in the auditorium. "This is what some students from here, right here in this room, right now, did to me. They did it because they thought I was different. Two of 'em play football; one plays soccer. They thought they were better'n me. One of 'em even came to the hospital with some of my friends. He was there to warn me not to talk. I'm not afraid of 'em and as far as I'm concerned, they're not as good as me or any of you. I'm talkin' guys." Sean stopped and looked around the room. He pointed to the section on the right. "They're about half way back in that section. Kyle Jenkins. Ben Thomas. Adam Morgan." "No way, ass-hole!! You fag! You lie! You just wait!" One of the boys yelled. Four men, that I assumed were policemen, moved towards the boys. Students near the boys moved away. The students were quiet at first, then the dull roar grew as the students turned on the three boys. They didn't attack them, but they did let them know that what they did was unacceptable. The kids did the worst thing that could happen to any kid; the boys were ostracized. After signing some papers for the Sergeant and then some more with the attorneys, we all headed out for some lunch. It was a subdued group in one way, a relieved group in another. I didn't ask the boys what they said to Sean to get him to talk, I was just grateful that it happened. Sean would have to come back to testify. The Sergeant had promised to keep us posted. Lunch was a leisurely meal with lots of reminiscing. I watched Phyllis and knew she was fighting to keep a good front for Sean. Inside, she was hurting. No parent can give up custody of their child without feeling a deep sense of loss and, possibly, failure. Phyllis hadn't failed Sean. If anything, she had made the big sacrifice for his well being. She would come to visit him and he would go back to visit her. How long he would stay with us, only time would tell. When we got on the plane to head south, we were all worn out. The boys talked and joked around, like any teens, but they were relatively quiet. I settled back in my seat for a nap. I thought about David. End Ch Twenty-Eight To Be Continued Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com