Date: Tue, 25 Jun 2002 22:50:10 EDT
From: Botpuppy@aol.com
Subject: The Kid at the Bar, Part 11

The Kid at the Bar
Part 11

By: botpuppy@aol.com

Note: If you are new to this story, or even if you have been following
it, run through the previous chapters so that these concluding parts will
make sense. I apologize to all of you for taking so long to post this
final chapter. Be patient, the sexual content is going to be less than
some prefer.


I answered the door. "Come in officer, I'm Jack's roommate, Steve." Jack
said, "You wanted to see me, officer? Sorry I can't get up, I had some
trouble last night and my ankle is still tender. Is there a problem?" My
mind worked on what could have caused this visit. I wasn't familiar with
his driving habits, but Jack didn't have his car long enough to have
accumulated a bunch of speeding tickets. "I'm Sergeant Joe Bryan, from
the Special Forces detachment. Mr. Collins, there seems to be a problem:
a man in New York City is critically ill and he asked the City police to
help in locating you. His name is also John Collins

. "Jack, I'll leave you two alone", and I headed for the balcony, but
Jack stopped me. "Stay here Steve, it's OK." Jack had never spoken about
his father or his mother. I knew that he boarded at a fancy Manhattan
prep school and other than that not very much about his background.
Although I felt it more appropriate to give him his privacy, he seemed to
want me involved. I sat on the sofa next to him, as the cop continued.

"Here is a faxed photo of the man, do you recognize him at all?" Jack
studied the photo for a few minutes, then replied, "Yes, but only from a
photo my mother kept. The bastard skipped out on us when I was a baby and
I haven't seen or heard from him since then. So why is he interested in
me all of a sudden?" "I have to tell you that he's dying and he wants to
see you. He is in Municipal Hospital in the Bronx, and is being treated
for..."
He glanced at Steve who had his hand on my shoulder, sympathetically
squeezing it.

I realized that he was evaluating whether to continue in front of Steve.
He decided to continue. "He has severe hepatitis and sclerosis, years of
alcohol and drug abuse are taking its toll now. The NYPD is familiar with
him; he's been in and out of rehab for years. Some arrests, usually petty
theft. It's common among the winos and druggies in the city." He had
added those final words in a softer voice, no doubt trying to cushion
what he knew was a bitter blow, but determined to do what he considered
to be his duty. I could almost sense his wish that this would have been
another cop's assignment, but he continued. "Myself, I think that the
city has some blame in these cases. These people are mostly homeless.
They are forced to steal to feed their habits, get locked up for a while,
then given a week or two in a shelter and turned back out on the street.
It's just an endless cycle, little wonder the cops get to know men like
your dad."

Jack had been silent all this time. His face seemed to show anger, sorrow
and frustration, all at the same time. I had feelings of sympathy and
more than that, glad that Jack felt close enough to me that he would
allow me to share in what to him was a wrenching, even humiliating,
experience.

"I've written the name and address of the hospital on this sheet, also
the attending doctor and all the phone numbers that the NYPD gave us. I
didn't know that your relationship with your father was so distant. But
here is the information anyway. I shouldn't be saying this as a cop, but
as a man, I'd recommend that you try to see your father before he dies."

Jack erupted, "What for? He never cared about me, why the hell should I
worry about that prick?" "I understand, Mr. Collins, and now I had better
go, I've said too much as it is." Steve took the paper; the cop shook
hands and made his good-byes.

After Steve had shown the cop to the door, he joined me on the sofa.
Sitting close, he began to knead my thigh, just above my kneecap. "Easy,
dude, the cop was trying to do his duty and more, he was giving you some
good advice." "Steve, no way in fuckin' hell I wanna see him." "OK, OK
man, whatever, maybe you just need to be by yourself for a while. Call me
if you want some company", and I got up to leave. "No, don't go, not now.
Steve, would you hold me? Just put your arm around me and hold me tight."

Without even thinking about it, I put my arm around him and drew him
closer to me. I knew that he had to make the trip, but waited, hoping
that he would see it for himself. It was obvious that he was hurting, and
now I knew that he had been hurting for a long time. After a while, he
breathed out heavily, "I should go to see him, shouldn't I?"

I had a hundred different ideas racing through my head. Finally I decided
to go with my gut. "Yeah, if you don't, chances are good that you'll
curse yourself out later. I don't know the story at all, except what I
just listened to, and I sure as fuck can understand why you would hate
him. But if you do go, you might find out that your old man had a reason
for what happened. Maybe there's something you don't know."

"One thing I do know, that fuckin' drunk took off..." He broke off and
sat quietly, his head on my chest. "But you're right this time pal. Fuck,
even a dweeb like you gets it right once in a while." I recognized the
Jack I knew, and breathed a sigh of relief at his rebound. "You wanna
come with me, I guess I'll need a driver." "Sure, give me a couple of
minutes, we better hurry, you need to have the doc check u out before we
leave."

I threw our blazers, a change of underwear and toothbrushes into an
overnight bag, and we were soon in the car, making a quick stop at the
doc's office. He wanted x-rays, but Jack blew him off, so he just re-
taped the ankle, gave Jack a cane, and we off to the big town. The
morning rush was over, and we were soon on the George Washington Bridge
on the way to the Bronx, me at the wheel and Jack navigating from the map
the cop had given him. And here we were, and no room in the parking lot.
I cruised around, looking for a parking space close by, with nothing in
sight.

Jack told me to pull into a spot, at the entrance, but it was right by a
fire hydrant. I was puzzled, but I did as he said and we waited there.
"Remember I grew up here." In a few minutes, a Latino kid, matbe 12 years
old sauntered down the street, and Jack called him over to the car,
"Hola, nino, Buenos", then continued, "Wanna make a few bucks, amigo?"
The kid eyed him cautiously. "No queer stuff, I ain't no maricon, what's
the deal."

The deal was that Jack would give him 40 bucks to watch the car. We got
out and Jack told the kid to get him the trash can by the alley, placing
it over the hydrant. "Here's a 20, amigo, you just hang around here,
maybe an hour or so. Me or my buddy will be back then with the other 20.
We got a deal, papi?"  and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. The
kid beamed at this. "Bet your gringo ass, mi amigo. Nobody gonna fuck
with your car while I'm standing guard", and we went into the hospital.

"Hey Jack, are you sure about that kid, how do you know he won't just
take off?  " Did you see the look on his face? That's more money than
that kid has seen at one time in his life, and the prospect of another 20
is sure to keep him around. Plus he's alone, nobody knows he pocketed the
20, so nobody is gonna take it away from him. Unless he's stupid and
shoots off his mouth, and I guarantee you, that kid is far from stupid.
If some thug has any idea of appropriating the car for a chop shop, the
kid will make up a pimp in that bodega down there or something. Trust me
sweetheart, this is my home base, remember?"

We looked around the lobby, wondering what to do now that we were here. A
security guard approached and asked if we needed help. I explained the
situation and he pointed to an office. "See the lady in there, boys." She
was seated at her computer, a gray haired black woman who looked like she
had been a grandmother all her life. I explained again, and Jack showed
her the paperwork the cop had given him. She typed a few strokes on her
keyboard, and showed a hint of a frown. "Follow me boys, and sit here for
a moment."

We sat in silence for a few minutes until a doctor walked in, in a white
lab coat. He looked about 28; a tall well built black man. He introduced
himself and looked at us, his eyes settling on Jack. "You must be Mr.
Collins' son, is that right?" Jack responded that he was. For the first
time, he didn't go off on a tirade about his dad running off on him. "I'm
afraid I have bad news for you, son. There is no way to break this kind
of news gently. Your dad passed away an hour ago."

Jack studied the floor, then, "Was it the booze or the drugs?" "There was
no trace of either in his system when he arrived here. If he was a user
he hadn't hit up in 6 months at least. The alcohol flushes out of the
system more quickly, it was a week since he had a drink, if he had." Jack
looked up, startled. "Your blood tests can be that accurate?" "Your
father was struck by a drunk driver crossing 198th St. This is a city
hospital, and the DA's office will prosecute the driver. It's common for
defense lawyers to claim that the victim was drunk or high and caused the
accident himself. So in these cases we are quite thorough. Yes the tests
are conclusive."

Jack turned to me, his face puzzled, as I had never seen before. I moved
closer to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. The doctor
continued, "There was nothing we could do for your father when he
arrived. I was the attending physician, and I'll be happy to explain the
extent of his injuries. He did speak, to his caseworker. She is a young
lady who works with homeless and disabled, would you like to speak with
her? She may still be in the hospital." I answered for him, yes sir, I
think that would be good for my friend. "I'll page her, wait here."

After a short time, a young woman came in. She walked right up to Jack
and took his hand. "Jack, I'm so sorry. I recognize you from the photos
your father was always showing me, I'm Carrie and I have been working
with your dad for almost a year. This is so tragic, and he was making
such progress. I feel as if I have known you since you were a baby, you
are all your dad ever talked about." "You mean he finally had quit
drinking and shooting up?" "Oh yes, and he had rented a nice room, so he
wasn't on the street any more."

Carrie sat down next to Jack and opened a large manila envelope. She
showed yellowed snapshots, Jack naked on a rug, sitting on his dad's
shoulders. Even as a baby, he looked like an exact miniature of his
father. Then came newspaper clippings, graduation from prep school, Jack
at gymnastic meets. I had never seen Jack so stunned. Finally, a plastic
bag with some blond baby hair, and then Jack broke out in tears,
unashamedly opening a window to a part of him that I had never seen.

I sat down close to him and as I put my arm around his shoulder, he
turned and buried his face in my chest and continued to sob. The doctor
returned and told Jack that his dad was still in his bed and that Jack
could see him if he wanted to, and the three of us went to a ward, the
doctor leaving us with his father's body. Jack looked at his dad, all
traces of bitterness now gone as all the years of resentment dissolved.
He placed a hand tenderly on his dad's head, and kissed his forehead. He
turned away and we all left.

Jack asked the doctor about the burial. The city would arrange for a
simple burial unless Jack, being the only relative, was prepared to cover
the expenses. Jack didn't skip a beat and said that he would do it. We
left the hospital to drive to the funeral home, and Carrie told us she
would meet us there. The Latino kid was sitting on the trash can, "Como
esta man. Take a look at your car, not a scratch. El nino done a good
job, no?" " Fuckin' A, mi amigo, mussing up the kid's hair
affectionately. And here's another 20 to keep the first one company.
Maybe you can find a puta to put out for you with that." The kid beamed
again, "Come back anytime, caballero, muchas gratias."

We got to the funeral parlor and after the director explained about the
wooden box. Jack asked if he could pay for the burial and a better coffin
with his Amex card, and the director's eyes lit up, "Of course, of
course." So Jack ordered a coffin and a plot far away from the pauper's
area of the cemetery. "Are you religious at all, would you like a
minister?" Jack shook his head, but hesitated. Carrie spoke up, "I went
to Fordham, it's close by and a Jesuit friend of mine would be happy to
perform a service." It didn't take Jack long to agree, and the burial,
with a brief service was set for the day after tomorrow.

We parted company after Jack had got Carrie's business card, telling her
he would call her cel phone when we had settled into a hotel. Jack
directed me south on the river highway and we were soon in Manhattan,
headed east on Central Park South. "Wow, pretty fancy", I muttered. "Here
we are dude, directing me to the valet parking in front of the Paza
Hotel, I'm gonna show you fancy, you hick farmboy. Hutch put me up here
when he was recruiting me, I know this place" A bellhop in a uniform
rushed to grab the bag I carried, and a doorman opened the door for us.
Jack walked over to the reception desk, flashed his Amex card, and told
the attendant that we would need rooms for two days, and to make sure the
bar was stocked with Black Jack.

The desk clerk couldn't take his off of Jack, except when he was looking
at me. A faggot for sure, but a first class faggot. Jack smiled and
winked at him, and I had an image of the clerk cumming his bikini
underwear. "Where's the bar, sweetie, we'll be in there till you get the
room ready." "The Oak Room is just across the lobby sir. Your suite will
be ready in just a few minutes, and I will let you know as soon as it is.

Seated at the bar, Jack ordered his usual, Jack Daniel's Black Label and
a pack of Marlboro Reds, lit up and exhaled a long sigh. "Well, Steve, I
guess we're done for the day." In only a few minutes the desk clerk came
into the bar and announced that our rooms were ready, and told us that we
could follow him if we were ready. We stood, throwing back our drinks and
left.

As we followed him, Jack nudged me as were staring at the clerk walking.
It was incredible how erect he carried himself, taking tiny steps by
placing one foot in front of the other, and all the time with his arms
held close to his body. Jack cracked that he could carry dimes on his ass
without dropping them, and I agree but pointed to his skinny butt,
shaking my head. Jack stood too close to the clerk in the elevator, and
put a hand on one of his ass cheeks. The guy waited too long to step
away, giving us a nervous tight-lipped terrified expression.

When we got to our rooms, he pointed out the bar, with 2 fresh bottles of
Jack Daniel's Black Label, the bedroom, and the bathroom. I noticed the
bidet and pointed it out to Jack. Faking ignorance, he asked the clerk
why there were two toilets, and the guy gave us a tight lipped smirk,
rolled his eyes and said, no this one was a bidet, dragging out the ay
sound. "And what is a beedaaay, buddy." "Well, it's common in Europe,
it's used for personal hygiene." Jack looked closer, and asked how it is
used. Now the clerk blushed, but was determined to continue in his
superior manner. "One simply sits on it and turns on the water to
clean...uh, to clean one's orifice. This one also dispenses a very
lovely scented detergent. " "You mean like a chick douching her cunt?"
The clerk was flustered now, and still didn't realize that he was being
put on. "Dude, could you show us, have you ever used one of these?" Still
trying to maintain control of the situation, the clerk blurted out that
of course he had, then realized what he had said. "Well, if there is
nothing else that the gentlemen require, I'll leave you now, but please
don't hesitate to call on me if you require my services."

After he had left, we burst into laughter. "Don't know about you Steve,
but I could eat a horse, wanna do room service?" "Sure bro, whatever." So
Jack ordered two 18-ounce porterhouse, medium rare, fries and some wine.
As we finished up the last of the wine, Jack wanted to go to bed, and I
agreed. He stripped, went into the bathroom and returned after what
seemed like a long time. He got in the bed, and held his arms out to me.
"Come on, Steve, in here with me." I shucked off the rest of my clothes
and lay down beside him.

He pulled me close to him, and a hand behind my neck, leaned up to kiss
me. I had never kissed a guy before, and this was different. His tongue
entered my mouth and soon we were trading saliva. He whispered soft words
of thanks for helping go through the ordeal today, and, embarrassed, I
said, "Ok, bud, and remember you owe me." I was really just trying to
lighten things up some. But then, "That's what I'm doing, Steve, you're
gonna get something no other dude ever has got from me", and he wiggled
his way under me.

My dick was fully erect, but this was unbelievable. Jack couldn't mean
what his words and actions were suggesting, and if he did, there was no
way that I would take advantages this way. Mark had been the first guy I
had ever fucked, And I enjoyed it, but this was something else. "Man you
are even dumber and weirder than I thought, I didn't do a fucking thing
for you that you wouldn't have done for me", and I bent down to kiss him
again. This time his lips parted as he accepted my tongue. "But I got
news for you, man, I've wanted this for a long time now, and now is the
right time. Now don't argue with me, shut up and fuck me, that's an
order."

With that, he pulled his thighs back and held them tight against his
chest. I remembered that he had instructed Mark to take me that way since
he was a virgin and it made a lot of sense. Jack's ass cheeks were pulled
apart naturally by the position he took. Remembering how Mark had
whimpered when I had entered him, I decided to try to open Jack up the
way I had seen him do to Mark. My finger eased into his hole and he
pushed up onto it. He sighed and I used my thumb and index finger to try
to spread the opening some more. I was determined that if I were going to
do it, I would make it as painless as I could.

I bent down and kissed both his ass cheeks, then cautiously began to lick
at his hole, then plunged my tongue in as deep as it would go. I laved
his insides with my saliva, trying to stretch his tight little opening
some more, and then I noticed it. I may have been expecting a foul taste,
but I wasn't prepared for the pleasantly scented detergent. "You fucking
slut, u were using the bidet, washing out your pretty little boy cunt for
your man", then planting a big lip- smacking kiss on his pucker." "If you
don't plant that rod in me now, you're gonna take my cock instead of my
cherry. Now prove to me that you're the man in my life.

The familiar banter had relieved any conscience I had about it and I
moved closer, lining up the head of my cock at the tiny opening of Jacks
ass. I probed tentatively, failing to enter him. "Not like some little
boy, stud, make like my hole has hair around it like a pussy and ram it
home, and as I did, Jack simultaneously thrust his pelvis upward and I
had penetrated him. I quickly found a good rythymn and realized that he
had let me establish the pace. Like the superbly coordinated athlete he
was, he would thrust himself upward with each of my downstrokes,
controlling even the dilations of his sphincter, opening himself to my
cock. On the upstrokes, his hole would seem to grab onto my rod as he
pulled back the opposite way.

I couldn't take the incredible stimulation for long, and too soon, I felt
the familiar sensations before an orgasm. My balls pulled up tight in the
sac, and my already enflamed prick swelled as the first deposit of my
sperm rushed to escape. With this, I buried myself in him and shot spurt
after spurt of my ball juice deep into my new lover's bowels. Exhausted,
I collapsed on top of him, and felt his powerful arms pull me close. We
fell asleep cradled in each other's arms.

Our adventure in the city occurred two years ago. Jack's father was
buried as he and I, Carrie, the priest and the funeral director attended.
After the coffin had been lowered to the ground, we were ushered away
while the cemetery crew approached to replace the soil on the gravesite.
We got in the car and were soon on our way.

We have graduated now and living together in San Francisco. We have
occasional sex together, but are not a couple. I am too fond of the
ladies to be true to him sexually and Jack has his own tastes but in our
own way we love each other.