Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2018 11:02:29 -0500 (EST)
From: HENRY BROOKS <hankbrookscc@comcast.net>
Subject: Man of His Dreams  short story

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			     Man of His Dreams

Hartsdale, NY is in Westchester County, north of The Bronx, NY.  It's a
lovely bedroom community with tree-lined streets and stereotypical white
picket fences here and there. If you are familiar with Westchester, you
know that it has a very hilly terrain.  Driving in the winter can be
extremely hazardous.

Stuart Munson had been in Hartsdale all evening having dinner at his
parents' home.  The entire visit had been an absolute disaster. His parents
continued to love him when he came out, but they worried about him being
promiscuous and acquiring a terrible disease.  Contrary to what was in
their disappointed hearts, they constantly badgered him about finding some
nice guy and settling down into a lifetime of monogamy.

The smells and the taste of his mother's home cooked meal were warming
Stuart's innards.  He was glad he had come to dinner at `home.'  He was
feeling really good until his father shattered his euphoria.  At dinner,
his father actually said, "If you persist on being queer, Stuart, then find
a companion before you end up with AIDS.  After all, you're thirty-one.
The years are flying by, and you are aging by the minute."

Stuart groaned and threw up his arms in despair.

In his car driving back to Manhattan, he couldn't get his father's
statement out of his mind.  His father was right, of course, about finding
a companion, but he didn't have to call him queer.  That stung Stuart in
his heart.

The only time he was really ever alone, was in his car.  That's when he
always found himself reflecting on his life.  The car was new and it still
had that new car aroma, which added to his sense of wellbeing.

Of course, he wanted to find a lifetime companion.  Every gay man and every
straight woman constantly dreams of what he would look like.  He knew he
was being foolish but he couldn't help himself.  His dream lover would be
at least six feet tall.  He would be very handsome.  Eye and hair color
didn't matter.  In fact, race and religion didn't matter, either.  His cock
would be between four and five inches flaccid and would grow to between
seven and eight inches when aroused.  It could be circumcised like his, or
not.  He would have a good job and he would love Stuart dearly to the
exclusion of all others.  He would be fond of all the foods Stuart liked,
and he would enjoy doing all the things Stuart loved to do.  Thinking about
all this, Stuart's mind began to wander.  It was certainly not on the icy,
hilly highway he was trying to navigate.  He began to picture the man of
his dreams and making love with him.

The weather had modified in the past few days.  The snow that had fallen
two days ago had begun to melt, leaving puddles of water along the hilly
highway.  This evening, the temperature dipped down considerably below
freezing and the road was covered with patches of ice.  It would have been
difficult for Stuart to see the icy areas in the daylight, but it was dark,
and he was not concentrating on the road conditions.  He had been
daydreaming about the man of his dreams all day, and he continued his
reveries.

His wheels hit a patch of black ice, and the car began to spin around.
Stuart's heart jumped in his chest as a scream came from his throat. He
gripped the steering wheel, squeezing it until his knuckles whitened, but
there was no way to regain control of the car.

He was almost at the top of a rise, where the highway was protected by a
guardrail.  His car careened into the useless rail.  The screeching sound
of metal crashing into metal pierced his ears.  His car toppled over the
so-called protective barrier, and it plunged twenty feet into an area of
heavy foliage.

As the car fell to what Stuart believed to be his final moments,
desperation was reflected in his voice as he screamed out, "Help me, Lord."

The thick vegetation formed a soft bed for an upside-down landing.
Fortunately, the car did not burst into flames. Stuart's airbag had
deployed, further protecting him.  The only damage to his body was a
fracture to his right ulna.  It was caused by the airbag, not the plunge
from the highway.  He lay unconscious in the upside-down car for two whole
days.  Fortunately, his seatbelt held him from falling on the roof of his
car and banging his head.  Then a state trooper noticed the severe dent in
the guardrail.  He got out to investigate and spotted the car below.

Stuart remained in a coma for eight days following his rescue.  When he
woke up he wondered where he was and what had happened.  There was a strong
smell of disinfectant in the room.  It was burning his nostrils as he
breathed it in.  The odor reminded him of a hospital.

As he became more and more awake, he realized that he was in a hospital
bed, confirming his suspicions.  His mother was sitting in a chair next to
him.  She was holding his hand, and her eyes were red and swollen.

"Why are you crying?" he asked her?

When his mother realized that he had talked to her, and coherently at that,
she hugged him instead of answering him.  Then she called the nurses, who
sent for the doctor.

Stuart repeated his question.  "Why are you crying, and where's Dad?"

"He'll be here after work," she answered.

Stuart blinked his eyes.  He tried to focus on where he was, but he drew a
blank.

"Where are we?" he asked his mother.

"We're in Westchester General Hospital, dear, in a private room.  You had a
terrible accident."

"I don't remember.  Was it a car accident?"

"Yes, Stuart.  I'm afraid you'll need a new car.  I hope you are adequately
insured."

"If I'm not, you can blame your other son, my big brother, Benjamin.  Need
I remind you that he sells insurance for a living?  He took care of me, and
I hope he did a bang up job.  No pun intended."

Just then the doctor came in.  He was smiling, and Stuart took that as a
good sign.  He asked several inane questions, which Stuart thought were
ridiculous.  The doctor's smile got broader with each answer.

"You're doing great," he said.  "We'll do some neurological tests tomorrow.
If they come out fine, and I'm sure they will, you should be good to go
home in a day or two.  You'll have to see an orthopedic surgeon to take
over the care of your broken arm."

Stuart nodded.  He had no idea that his arm was broken.  He looked down at
his body.  His right arm was in a cast.  His left arm had an IV going, and
he had a catheter in his prick.  Bummer! he thought.

The doctor then addressed his mother.  "Mrs. Munson, I think you should
leave now, and let Stuart rest.  I'm hoping he will fall asleep naturally,
and not in a coma-like sleep."

Mrs. Munson had always been one to follow doctor's orders.  She gave Stuart
a peck on the cheek.  "I'll call your dad, and tell him not to come this
evening, and I'll see you tomorrow," she said and left in a hurry.

"I'll order you a liquid diet," the doctor said.  "By the time you finish
dinner, the night crew will be in.  You'll meet your night nurse.

Stuart strained to read the doctor's name tag, but his eyes wouldn't focus.
The doctor had never introduced himself, preferring to delve immediately
into those stupid questions.

"Would you tell me your name, please?" Stuart asked.

"I'm sorry.  I was so excited to see that you woke up from your coma, that
I forgot my manners.  My name is Leo Brown."  He extended his hand, and
Stuart shook it.

"Great, I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Brown," he said.

Stuart's liquid diet consisted of chicken broth, Ensure, and apple juice.
He drank the Ensure and the apple juice, but he just couldn't down the
soup.  He was exceptionally tired, but he couldn't sleep.  It seemed like
someone disturbed him every few minutes.  They changed his IVs and
constantly came by to give him his meds.  Of course, they took his vital
signs every couple of hours.  Stuart concluded that he wasn't going to get
much rest here.

He was wide awake when his day nurse introduced him to his night nurse.
She was a sweet young thing, just out of nursing school.  The day nurse
filled the young girl in on all of Stuart's symptoms and meds.  Before she
left, she said, "I probably won't see you again, Mr. Munson.  I'm starting
my vacation tomorrow.  I just wanted to let you know how pleased I am that
you are out of the coma, and the best of luck to you."

It took a while but Stuart finally fell into a deep sleep.  He took his
meds and had his vital signs read without comprehension.  He just slept
through it.  He would have slept all the following day, but early the next
morning someone shook his shoulder and urged him to awaken.

"Rise and shine, Mr. Munson.  I'm going to be your nurse today, and it's
time for your sponge bath.  I suspect that Dr. Brown will remove your IV
and catheter today, and then I'll help you take a real shower."

Stuart was awake now, but he couldn't quite open his eyes.  The nurse's
voice was a deep baritone, and Stuart was pleased to note that he had a
male nurse.  The man smelled sweet.  His after-shave lotion was like an
aphrodisiac to Stuart.  He opened his eyes and glanced at his nurse.  He
thought he was sound asleep and dreaming.  Why wouldn't he suspect that?
Standing before him was the man of his dreams.

When the nurse was certain that Stuart was fully awake, he said, "My name's
Frank Scott.  You can call me Frank, Francis, or Nurse, but please avoid
Mr. Scott."  He laughed as if he had just told a fantastic joke.

Frank was about 6'2" tall.  His hair was blondish, and his eyes were blue.
He was wearing loose-fitting scrubs, but it was covered by an apron in
anticipation of giving morning sponge baths to his patients.  That
disappointed Stuart who got no clue as to what his cock size might be.

Stuart wanted to talk but he was mute.  His heart was palpitating, and he
was urging his gaydar to rear up and advise him, but nothing like that was
happening.

He devised a plan.  He reckoned that when Frank was bathing him and reached
his genital area, he would hand the sponge to Stuart to wash his own cock
and balls.  At that point, Stuart would tell Frank that he preferred him to
do it since he was gay.

What would Frank do then?  He could wash Stuart down there or tell him in
no uncertain terms to do it himself.  Whatever the outcome, Stuart would
know.

There was no way that Stuart could have known that Frank was just as gay as
he was.  Frank enjoyed his work, but he especially felt good when he nursed
a brother.  He was just as curious about Stuart's sexual preference as
Stuart was about his.  He had a plan also.  When he got to it, he would
wash Stuart's genital area, and not ask him to do it himself.  He would
wash him sensuously as if they were lovers.  Stuart would either get an
erection, or he would tell him to fuck off.  Either way, he'd know the lay
of the land.  Pun intended.

Stuart glanced over to the side of his bed.  He could see his over-the-bed
table.  There was a basin of soapy water on it, a was cloth, and a fresh
hospital gown.  The bath was about to begin, but Frank surprised him.  He
was in a private room so there was no need for Frank to draw a curtain
around the bed.  Instead, he closed the door.

"For privacy," he said.

Frank shocked the hell out of Stuart when he took his cock in his hand.

"The doctor left orders for me to remove your catheter.  When it's out
you'll have BP, bathroom privileges.  You're also going on a soft diet
today.  You're doing well, my friend."

It burned like hell as the catheter was removed.  Finally, it was out, and
Frank rolled Stuart's cock gently in his hand.

"I want to get the circulation back," the nurse said.

Stuart knew that was nonsense, but he felt so good, and he was beginning to
erect.  The two men smiled at each other.  Now they knew.  Stuart's wish
came true.  Frank washed his genitals, and it felt wonderful.  His erection
got bigger.

"I'm going to need to take care of that," Stuart said.

"Wait until I get off duty, and I'll help you with it."

Stuart almost passed out again.

After Stuart was bathed and garbed in a fresh gown, Frank said, "I want to
show you something."  He reached for his wallet and extracted a picture,
which he showed to Stuart.  The patient stared long and hard at the image
on the picture, and his face clouded over.  Looking back at him, with the
widest grin, and whitest teeth, was the most handsome man Stuart had ever
seen.  He had a dark complexion and was obviously a Latino.

"His name is Jesus Rodriguez," Frank said.  "He's my partner."  Then he
laughed.  "I call him Jesse.  I can't fathom calling him Jesus."

Stuart's world blew up, and the debris filled up his universe.  He wanted
desperately to know all about Jesse.

"What's he do?" he asked.

"You mean what does he do when he's working.  He's a hoofer.  Right now
he's in the chorus of an off-Broadway musical.  It was a bomb, and it's
closing in two days.  Then the fruitless auditions begin again."

Frank sounded disgusted, so Stuart's brain hatched a new plan.  He would
become friendly with Frank, and when he got home he would invite him and
Jesse to dinner.  Frank would see how much more he had to offer than Jesse,
and he would win him over.  Yeah! Fat chance!  Stuart was becoming fed up
with his unattainable fantasies.

He's very handsome," Stuart observed, "but then again, so are you."

"His good looks are a blessing and a curse.  I know for sure that he cheats
on me every chance he gets."

Stuart's hopes were renewed.  "I'd never cheat on you," he said.

Frank didn't know what to say to that, so he just smiled at Stuart, and
patted his hand.  He removed his cell phone from his apron pocket and spoke
to someone.  He informed that someone to please remove the dirty basin and
washcloths in room 201.

"I'll see you later," he promised Stuart, as he left.

As soon as he was gone, an orderly came in and removed the evidence of
Stuart's early morning bath.  Stuart tried to sleep, but his breakfast was
delivered; scrambled eggs, a dinner roll, oatmeal, and black coffee.  He
looked at it and wanted to gag.  He ate very little and tried to close his
eyes and rest.  That was impossible.  Someone came to take his vitals, and
then Frank came to give him some meds, and remove his IV.

"If you're still here tomorrow, I'll get you into the shower," he said with
a big smile on his face.

Stuart closed his eyes and tried to sleep again when two big guys came in
and put him on a gurney.  They took him for his neurological tests.  Along
the way, Stuart could only see the ceiling.  The unfamiliar viewpoint made
his stomach queasy.  He knew they were taking good care of him, but he
vowed never to be a patient in a hospital again.

After the tests, Dr. Brown visited him.  "Everything is just great," he
said, "but I'm going to keep you all day tomorrow for observation.  I want
to make sure that you're okay for discharge.  I'm confident you will be,
and I'll discharge you the day after tomorrow."  He left in a hurry.  He
was too busy for small talk.

Stuart's parents came to visit that evening.  His father was crying, and he
embraced his injured son.  Stuart realized that his parents loved him even
if he was gay.  It made him feel good.  He felt even better after they
left.  Frank entered the room and closed the door.

"I'm off duty," he said.

He went over to Stuart's bed and lifted his hospital gown.  Immediately, he
began to masturbate his patient.  Stuart was purring like a kitten.  It
felt so good.  It felt even better when Frank leaned over him and brought
him to climax with his lips and his tongue.

Before Frank could leave, Stuart pleaded, "Please let me see what you've
got.  I just want to touch it."

Frank dropped his pants.  He wasn't wearing underwear.  He had an erection,
and it popped out and up facing the ceiling.  Stuart reached over and
started stroking it.  Frank stopped him.

"That feels wonderful," Frank explained.  "You have a velvet touch, but I
gotta save it for Jesse.  I'll see you in the morning."

Stuart waited for Frank to leave, and he started to cry.

When he awoke the next morning, he was disoriented again.  There was a cast
on one arm, an IV in the other arm, and a catheter in his cock.  He
couldn't fathom what was going on.  An unfamiliar nurse came into his room,
and he asked, "Where's Frank?"

The nurse did not answer him.  "You're awake," she screamed and ran to
inform a doctor.

A doctor came in.  Stuart had no trouble reading his ID badge.  `Robert
Saunders, MD.'  He was nothing like Dr. Brown.  He was about Stuart's age,
but he was at least two inches shorter than Stuart, and about ten pounds
overweight.  Still, he had a pleasant face and an adorable smile.  He was
nowhere near Stuart's dream man, but Stuart liked him and he felt confident
in his hands.

The doctor asked inane questions similar to those Dr. Brown had asked.
Finally, Stuart blurted out, "What's going on here?"

"You were in a horrendous car accident, and you've been in a coma for over
a month.  You woke up this morning and we're evaluating your condition."

"What is my condition?"

"So far so good, but we have a lot of tests to do."  Dr. Saunders smiled at
him and patted his hand.  "Don't worry," he said, "we're taking good care
of you, and you'll be just fine."

"Have you been my doctor the whole time I was in the hospital?"

"Yes."

"Have my parents been in to see me?"

"Every day.  Your father is worse than your mother.  It's impossible to get
him to stop crying.  I can't wait to tell him you've awakened from the
coma, and you're very alert.  I'll leave now.  I want to set up your
neurological tests so that we can get you out of here as soon as possible."

"Before you leave, Doctor.," Stuart begged, "please remove the catheter.  I
swear I don't need it."

"Okay, but don't go to the bathroom; pee in a urinal, so we can measure
your output."  He handed Stuart a urinal and left in a big hurry.

The light finally dawned.  As he had lain in a coma, Stuart conjured up a
vision of his dream man.  It was beginning to sink in.  Frank was no more
than another dream.  Instead of feeling unhappy and defeated, Stuart smiled
to himself.  He was beginning to realize that he was obsessed with finding
Mr. Right, and he vowed to simmer down, and take life a day at a time as it
comes.  And it came like a steamroller that very evening.

It was the end of the day.  Stuart's parents were gone.  The staff had
already switched to the night shift, and the ward was getting ready for
bedtime.  As usual, Stuart tried to sleep, but it was in vain.  He was
pretty much awake and aware when Dr. Saunders came into the room.  The
doctor closed the door, and for some reason, Stuart thought of Frank, who
somehow was fading quickly from his memory.

It was obvious that Dr. Saunders had showered and refreshed himself.  His
aftershave lotion greatly resembled Frank's.  Stuart wondered if it was
Dr. Saunders' aroma that he had smelled in his coma.  He stopped all his
conjecturing, and asked, "Dr. Saunders, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I'm off duty.  It's a social visit.  Let's talk.  OK?"

Stuart panicked.  "I'm going to recover, aren't I?" he asked, fearing the
answer.

Dr. Saunders laughed.  "You're going to be just fine, and I thank God for
that."

Stuart thought that it was strange that the doctor gave credit to God
rather than his own medical skills.  He was soon to find out why.

"Please call me Bob," Dr. Saunders requested.  "And now I want to tell you
why I'm here."  As he said that, he took Stuart's hand.  His patient felt
warm and comforted.  He was filled with TLC.

"Please, Bob, tell me.  I have a feeling that it doesn't concern my medical
condition."

Bob smiled and began.  "When I first met your parents, Your dad told me
that you were gay and he constantly worried about you contacting AIDS.  He
asked me to test you, and I did.  You're clean, of course.  As soon as I
learned you were gay, I fell in love with you.  You see, I'm gay also, and
you're the man of my dreams.  You're everything I always fantasized."

Stuart was dumbstruck.  Bob was far from the man of his dreams, but Stuart
had already determined that his dream man was an unattainable fantasy.
Anyway, besides wanting him to be at least six feet tall, Stuart had no
clear picture of his other attributes.  He liked Bob, and he could
certainly do a lot worse.

Bob continued.  "When I would look in on you, if nobody was around, I would
kiss you.  Once you got an erection, and I knew you would wake up soon and
recover."

Another glimpse of his hallucination recurred to Stuart.  "Did you ever
touch me there?" he asked.

"I wanted to desperately, but I restrained myself.  It would have been very
unprofessional."

"You're not on duty now, This is a social visit." Stuart reminded the
doctor.  He threw off his cover sheet and lifted his gown.  He had a raging
boner.  "Would you like to touch it now?"

"I'd like to do more than touch it," Bob said.  He leaned over Stuart and
took his throbbing rod into his mouth.  Stuart had not had an orgasm since
two days before his accident.  He came gushing into Bob's mouth after a
very few strokes of the doctor's tongue. Stuart concluded that it was the
best blow job he had ever had, even better than Frank's, which he had
fantasized in his coma.

"Kiss me," Stuart begged.  "Let me taste my cum."

Not only did Bob kiss him he laid his palm gently on Stuart's crotch as he
did.  The kiss seemed to last forever.  After a long while, Stuart realized
that Bob had taken out his cock and was stroking himself.  He pushed the
doctor's hand away and took over the stroking.  He smiled to himself.  Bob
was the same size as his dream man.  He came almost as quickly as Stuart
had.  He caught his cum in a wad of tissues and avoided a big mess.

He started to cry.  "Dare I hope?" he asked between sobs.

"Get me out of here, Doc, and we'll see where life takes us."

"I know where your immediate future takes you," Bob said.  "Your dad called
your law firm, and the senior partner told him not to worry.  You can come
back whenever you're ready.  He told your boss that you were going to
recuperate at his house.  He said that you were too old to be living with
your parents, and he would get you back to work as soon as possible.  They
both had a good laugh."

"This experience has made me realize how much my parents love me even if I
am gay.  I'm looking forward to home cooked meals again."

"I live pretty close to your parents.  I'll look in on you every day, in a
professional capacity, of course."

"Of course."

"I'll leave you now to get some rest.  I want you to dream of us making
full-blown love."

"It's impossible to sleep in this joint.  Can you give me a sedative?"

"No way, my love.  A sedative could put you right back in a coma."

Bob kissed him again and left.  His kiss was closed-mouth but sweet, and
even passionate.  Stuart loved the way Bob kissed.

Because he knew he couldn't sleep in this environment, which was akin to
Grand Central Station, Stuart had plenty of time to think.  The only thing
Bob lacked to be his dream man was height.  He wasn't devastatingly
handsome, but he was nice looking enough.  As for his being slightly
overweight, who doesn't love a little love handle? He had a good job, and
he loved Stuart to the exclusion of all others.  Stuart was growing fonder
and fonder of Bob as he examined all his attributes.

Even if he wasn't the dream man Stuart desired, he was close enough.
Besides, there was one important factor in all this.  He was the man of
Bob's dreams.  Stuart had never considered that it might work in reverse.
He couldn't wait to tell his father that he had snared a doctor.

Yes, he decided.  I'm definitely going to give us a try.