Date: Thu, 15 Feb 2024 13:47:23 -0500 From: Hank Subject: And Then There were Two (short story) Dear Readers: Please do your part to keep this website alive and well. Click on the "donate" icon and give what you can to assure yourselves hours of erotic and entertaining reading. Send donations to https://donate.nifty.org. Thanks, HWB And Then There Were Two Prologue My mother died giving birth to me. I have read about such incidents. The surviving child often grows up feeling totally guilty for his mother's death, mainly because the father feels that way. Nonsense! I have never felt any guilt for one second, nor did my father ever accuse me of killing his wife and my mother. She chose to have me, even after the doctors had warned her it was too dangerous. It was her choice, not mine. If that were not enough, my two dads have given me a wonderful life. I have no regrets. My biological dad, Charles Lee, was a bleeding heart liberal. When he heard of any kind of prejudice or bigotry, his blood boiled. His favorite book ever was Harper Lee's `To Kill A Mocking Bird.' Since he shared a surname with the author, he named me Harper. Harper could be either a boy's name or a girl's. Believe me, I never fretted over that for a second. In fact, I'm proud to be named after Harper Lee. Dad "came out" after my mother died. I guess he felt that it was time to be true to himself. My stepfather started to come around when I was only three years old. He and Dad got married soon after. Even though I grew up in a gay household, I always believed I was straight. Why not? I was turned on by female classmates. Also, I'm not a typical gay boy. I'm a tall jock. I lettered in football and basketball in high school. I lost my virginity to a cheerleader, Carol, on my sixteenth birthday. She insisted on giving me a birthday present. It was the best present I ever got. Unlike other straight men, I never grossed out when I knew my dads were making love. Why would I? They were giving each other great pleasure, and I was happy for them In fact, I envied their love, and prayed that someday, I would find a love as deep as theirs, with a woman, of course. Notwithstanding, our different sexual orientations, we all slept naked, and paraded around the house that way also. We were never shy with one another. Midway through my sixteenth year, I came home one day to find my step father, John Starr, sitting at the kitchen table crying his eyes out. The tears he sobbed were pathetic. "What's wrong?" I yelled. John jumped up and embraced me. I thought he would crack my ribs. "Your father is dead," he said. He had to gasp to get the words out. "He had a massive heart attack at work. I didn't know he had a bad heart. If he knew, he kept it a secret from me." At first I was immobile. It took my brain cells a few seconds to process what I had just been told. Finally, I yelled out, "no, no, noooooooo." I hugged John back, stronger than he hugged me. I was the jock, who went to the gym several times a week. Neither John nor my dad, ever worked out, as far as I knew. John was having trouble breathing in the first place, and I was adding to his discomfort, so I pulled back. The next two weeks were horrible. Planning for my dad's funeral, and asking his lawyer to begin to probate his will, took all our fortitude. I honestly don't know how John and I got through it. Every night, I heard his bitter tears, and he must have heard mine. Ten days after my father's death, John returned to work, and I returned to school. Chapter One During the next year, John never left the house, except to go to work or to shop. I was at a loss. I didn't know what I could do for him. I felt helpless, and it was killing me. On the other hand, I was now getting laid regularly, and going steady with Carol, the cheerleader who deflowered me. Also, I was busy writing essays, and filling out applications to several out-of-town colleges and universities. I knew that I had an edge over other students. In addition to being a B+ student, my extracurricular activities were impressive. One afternoon, I completed my fifth application. There would be no more. I photocopied it, using my printer, prepared it for mailing, and ran to the post office. I sent it out registered, return receipt requested. Walking back to our apartment, I suddenly had a terrible thought. John would be alone when I flew the nest. He was lonely enough now. It would be worse when I was gone. All the schools I applied to were out of town. I contemplated making one more application to NYU or Columbia, but I really wanted to live in a dorm, and experience the college experience like everybody else, so I didn't do it. Instead, I got a brilliant idea. At least, I thought so. My eighteenth birthday was only a week away, and John was planning on taking me out for a celebration. I approached him, and asked where he was taking me. "It's your birthday. You choose the restaurant." I put my plan into play. "Where did my dad and you go to celebrate, or just to hang out and socialize?" I asked. "A great restaurant and bar. You'll be old enough to enjoy the place, but you can't have a hard drink. You're under age." "That's fine," I said. "I'm an athlete. I choose not to drink." "That's all well and good," John said, "but we can't go to that place anyway." "Why not?" "It's a gay bar and grill in The Village. You'll be uncomfortable there." "I won't be uncomfortable at all," I protested. "I grew up in a gay household. Why would I be uncomfortable?" "You're a handsome jock. You might get hit on." "If so, take my hand, and tell the masher that I'm your boy toy." John began to laugh. I hadn't heard him laugh in over a year. I was thrilled. "You win," he said, "I haven't gone to a bar with a Lee, or anyone else, in a very long time, but I'd rather tell anyone who comes onto you, to back off because you're my son, not my boy toy." And he started to laugh again. "You know what else?" I asked. "You can buy me a very mild, watered down drink for the occasion." "I guess we have a date," he said, smiling at me. I reckoned he was happy to be going out with me, and I was elated. ***** John took me to a bar called "The Moonlight." True to its name, it was dimly lit, but it wasn't raucous, nor was it filled with half naked bodies. It was a sedate Madison Avenue type hangout. Most of the men there were John's age, give or take a couple of years. That helped me get rid of most of my apprehension at being in a gay bar. I had thought about this night for a long time. I had pictured friends of his coming over to him, hugging him, and telling him how happy they were to see him again. I prayed that he, and one of them, would show an interest in each other, and John would start dating. At first, no such thing happened, but as the hour got later, we got visitors in droves. It was beyond my wildest dreams. They all kissed him, and told him how happy they were to see him. Without revealing that Charlie Lee was my biological father, he introduced me as his son, Harper. No lie there. I was his son in every sense of the word, except blood. When our table was ready, the maître d' came to get us. "May we join you?" I heard a voice ask. We looked up to see a good looking couple. John jumped up, and the three men started to hug and kiss. The two men were vaguely familiar to me. I knew I might have met them before. John introduced me as his son, and informed me that Ryan and Mark got married the same day, as he and Charlie did. "We went on our honeymoon's together, and we are very good friends." "By all means join us," I said. "We're celebrating my eighteenth birthday, and any friend of Charlie's is automatically my friend too." We all had a wonderful time. After dinner, we socialized for a couple of hours. By this time, I was drinking cokes, but John, Ryan and Mark, were getting sloshed. John was happy (or pretending to be) for the first time since my father died. This was better than I hoped. At one point, I had to pee. I excused myself, and Ryan followed me to the men's room. We were peeing side by side, and he said to me, "Thanks Harper." "What for?" "For getting John back into the world of the living. I can't imagine how hard Charlie's death was for both of you." I decided to enlist Ryan's help. "Ryan," I said, "I'm going off to college in the fall, and my dad will be alone. I came here tonight, hoping he would meet someone, and start dating. You know more gay men than I do. I'm straight, and I'd love for you and Mark to help me in my quest." "I know you're straight. Charlie told me a long time ago. I can more than help you. I have just the guy. He's my identical twin brother, Ian, so, of course, he's gay. He got a promotion, and he's being transferred to New York from his office in Milwaukee. I promised to introduce him to a slew of my friends, and get him acclimated to gay New York. I think he and John would be good for each other. Sean didn't lose his husband like John did. The skunk ran off with a twinkie, and divorced him. He has a lot in common with your dad. I'll work on it." "Thanks Ryan." I said sincerely. "I feel a lot better." By the end of the evening my bar mates were all sloshed (including John). John and I had come by UBER, so I asked Ryan how they had come. "We drove," he said. "No way will I let you two drive. Come home with us," I implored. "You can use my bedroom, and I'll shack up with my father." It never occurred to me that there was a lack of propriety in shacking up with John. He was my father after all. I also strongly believed that if he slept with a Lee again, it would help him recover from his deep depression. It certainly never occurred to me, that either of us would want to have sex. I gave no thought as to what could happen if John dreamed he was sleeping with his husband. John and I got Ryan and Mark settled in my bedroom, and we went to the master bedroom. Chapter Two We undressed to our birthday suits, and didn't bother to check each other out. We had seen each other naked many times. I guess that's one of life's little freedoms, which comes with living in an all-male household. John used the master bathroom first. When he was done, it was my turn. John must have been more sloshed, and much more tired than I thought. When I got out of the bathroom, he was sound asleep. I shut the light, and joined him in bed. We were both under the covers, about a foot apart. I wasn't uncomfortable, nor was I afraid of sleeping with my dad. Growing up, I had slept with him and my other father many times. Charlie had a few out-of-town business trips during the year. When he was away, I often slept naked with John, but I was a kid then. Now, I was a full grown man. Still, I gave it no thought, and fell sound asleep. I awakened to strange noises. John was sound asleep, but he was sobbing like a baby. He was talking in his sleep, and I heard him say, "Oh, Charlie, I miss you so much. I'm so glad you came home tonight. One more day apart, and I would have killed myself." I grew alarmed. I gave no consideration to our nudity I crept closer to him, and took him into my arms. John's agitation eased and he relaxed considerably, and then I fell asleep also. At about two in the morning, I was awakened again. John was talking in his sleep and crying "Please come home to me," he said endlessly. There was no doubt he was crying for my dad, Charlie. The only thing I could think to do was to hold him tighter. It pained me to surmise that his crying might be a nightly occurrence. I held him very tightly, and he stopped crying. Suddenly I was frozen in fear. John started to fondle me. What should I do? What could I do? John was dreaming that he and Charlie were making love. I knew that if I woke him up, and he realized this bizarre situation, it would freak him out. I stayed as still as a man in a photograph. I kept praying that he would stop fondling me. Then I could attempt to roll away from him, without waking him. Alas, he didn't stop, and he started to masturbate me. Much to my chagrin, I was growing hard. Worse yet, he was stroking harder. I felt an orgasm growing, but I was too far gone to interrupt anything that was happening. I came full blast. Now, it was necessary for me to move away. I needed to clean up. As I started to get out of bed, John whispered to me, "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me. Do that to me also, Honey. I love you so much." Short of waking him up, I was at a loss as to what to do. I took his cock into my hand, and began to roll it tenderly. It was a new feeling for me. It was the first time in my life that I held a prick other than mine. Finally, I put my reticence aside, and started to stroke him in earnest. He was growing ramrod stiff. I could tell that he was near. Suddenly, he pushed my hand away from its chore. Seconds later, he went down on me. Obviously, John was awake now. At this point, we were making real love, and I couldn't stop him if I tried. This time I came in his mouth, and he swallowed all of it. From out of the darkness, I heard him say, "Please Harper, finish me off." I wasn't sure if he meant that I should go down on him, or to continue to masturbate him. I decided to end up stroking him to Nirvana. I gagged when I thought of sucking cock, even someone's I loved very much. John came full blast into the palm of my hand. He made more of a mess than I did. I guess, he was more love-starved than I. After all, I was getting laid regularly. He got out of bed, retrieved a couple of wash clothes, and wet them. He cleaned both of us. When he washed my cock and balls, I got a new sensation. I was fully aroused again and wished he would give me another round of pleasure. He threw the wash cloths in a hamper, got back in bed, and said, "I love you Harper. We'll talk about this in the morning. I'll make breakfast for the four of us, and send Ryan and Mark on their way. We'll be alone then." The minute he got back in bed, he fell asleep again. He slept soundly the rest of the night, but I didn't. Finally, about 5 AM, I fell fast asleep. Chapter Three When I woke up in the morning, it was just shy of 11 AM. I was alone in the bedroom. I crept out of bed, and listened for any noises which might be coming from someone else in the apartment. It was so quiet, I knew that I was the only one around. I went into the kitchen, still naked, and I spotted a note from John on the kitchen island. I grabbed it. It read: Good morning Son: I didn't want to disturb you, so I made Ryan and Mark breakfast, and I'm driving them to their car. When I get back, I'll make you breakfast, and we'll have that talk. I hope you aren't too freaked out about last night. I love you, and that's all that matters. BTW, don't make plans for this Saturday evening. Ryan and Mark have invited us to a dinner party in their home. He wants to introduce me to his twin brother, who is moving from Milwaukee. It's a set-up. I appreciate it, but I know that I'm not ready yet to resume dating. Dad The strange thing is that I wasn't freaked out at all. I masturbated all the time, unless I believed that I was going to have sex with my girlfriend that evening. Having someone else do it for me, and conclude by giving me a blow job, was a real pleasure. Suddenly, by power of suggestion, I did begin to freak out. It finally dawned on me, that the "someone" was my father. John and Charlie made love all the time, and suddenly what John and I did was all wrong, and I was consumed with guilt and shame. I didn't want to wait for John to come home. I poured a glass of orange juice, popped a frozen bagel into the toaster, and scrambled a couple of eggs. There was more than enough coffee remaining in the carafe, and I poured myself a cup. John didn't come home until I had nearly finished cleaning the kitchen of my breakfast dishes. He embraced me and kissed me. His kiss was not the father/son kiss I had experienced in the past. Growing up I received a peck on my forehead or my cheek. John's lips were on mine. His mouth opened and his tongue slithered out like a snake. His lovely instrument forced my lips apart, and John's tongue started to make love to mine. I was a teen-ager after all, and my hormones were flowing like a waterfall. I began to kiss him back, After a minute or two of tonguing each other, I had another epiphany. When I had sex with Carol, it was just the lustful yearnings of two teen-agers. But John was making love to me. My body was aflame with desire. Finally, he pulled away. "Let's talk," he said. "This should never happen again." "I know," I answered. "We let things get out of hand. But Dad, I don't regret it for a moment, and I didn't freak out. In fact, thanks for introducing me to the joys of gay sex. I used to think that it was pure wantonness, but it was beautiful. Besides, I'm straight. I want to meet Mrs. Right. Hopefully, in college. And maybe you'll meet Mr. Right at the dinner party Saturday night." "I told you, Harper, I don't think I'm ready yet. I don't know if I'll ever be ready." "All I ask is that you keep an open mind. Even if nothing romantic happens between you and Ryan's brother, Ian, there's the potential for a good friendship to develop. Promise me. The thought of you being alone, really disturbs me." "Yes, Mother Hen, I promise to keep an open mind," John said, as he broke out laughing. "I'd like to ask one more thing of you," I said rather sheepishly. "Sure. Ask." I took a minute to collect my thoughts. Finally, I said, "I know that we agreed not to make love any more, but until we find Mr. and Mrs. Right, do you think we could do it again? Or at least until I go off to college. I can't stand the thought of you being alone and lonely." "I don't know, Harper," he said. "Let me consider the consequences, if any, before I give you an answer." "Fair enough," I said, pretending to be conciliatory. "Maybe Ian will win your heart, and it'll be over sooner than we think." "Sure," he mumbled. His demeaner indicated that it could never happen. Chapter Four As usual, we went to the party in an UBER vehicle. This way, if John had too much to drink, we needn't worry. In addition, this was a private home, not a bar, and I could forego my athlete's diet, and have a drink or two. When we arrived at the party, Ryan attacked us. He had his brother in tow, and he couldn't wait to introduce us to Ian. It was obvious from the get go that Ian was into twinkies. He seemed to be more interested in me than my dad. He waited until we were one on one, and he got very touchy feely. I felt obligated to subdue him. "Listen Ian," I said. "I was raised by two dads. One passed away a little over a year ago. I want you to know that I'm very comfortable around gay people, but I'm as straight as a railroad tie." Ian looked surprised, Perhaps he even looked a little sad, but after I "outed" myself, he ran off to find a sure thing. I could see him talking to my dad, and John must have told him that he wasn't ready yet. Ian scooted away. It didn't look like he was going to score that evening, at least, not at this party. There didn't seem to be anyone else who interested him, and most of the guests at the party were coupled. John and I had a great time at the party, but a match between him and Ian was not realized. It wasn't even close. In the car driving us home, he remarked, "How can identical twins, who were raised in the same home, be so different? Ryan is in a happy, stable marriage, and Ian is a player." I decided to be philosophical. "Identical twins, or not," I said, "the minute they left the womb, they were two different people. They became individuals with different personalities. You know, like all those books and movies. They became good twin and evil twin." "I suppose," John mumbled. I think that he was clearly disappointed that things didn't work out with him and Ian, even if he "wasn't ready." At home, we got ready for bed. Without a moment's hesitation, we jumped into John's bed, and made love, including anal sex, until the wee hours of the morning. We finally fell asleep. The next day, I was lost at sea in school. I kept wondering how I could make love to a man, when I knew that I was straight. I rationalized that it was because I loved John so much, and I couldn't do it with another man. That might be true, but I wasn't about to try to test the theory. Guilt was beginning to set into both of us. At dinner the next night, I said casually, "John, the only reason I had sex with you..." My voice trailed off. "We made love," he interrupted me. "Whatever," I said, "but the only reason I did it was because I love you so much, and I couldn't bear to see you so lonely." "I'm glad we made love, but please, when you go to college, don't worry about me. I have my work to keep me busy, and when I'm ready for another relationship, if ever, you'll be the first to know." We hugged each other, and we cried a little. We only made love about five more times, before I left to go to Cornell University in Ithaca New York. I vowed to come home on weekends as often as possible. John bought me a used car to make sure I had no excuses not to. I told you that I'm a handsome jock. At the university, women, and an occasional guy, kept throwing themselves at me. I couldn't bring myself to get involved. I fucked them and left them. I rarely saw the same girl twice. All I could think about was love making with John. I yearned for hm all day long, every day. John reported to me that he started to go to the bars, and occasionally he had a one night stand, just for relief.. Still, there was nobody he could get serious with, even if he "was ready." When I realized how I felt, I began to question my own sexual orientation. Could I be gay, and I didn't realize it until I made love with John? It's possible. My biological father was gay. Maybe the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I made a vow with myself to drive home the first available weekend. I needed to discuss all this conflict in me with John. That's what fathers and sons do. I got home very late on a Friday evening, and John and I went right to bed, without making love. All day Saturday, we discussed the possibility that I was burying my homosexual tendencies. John thought that I was only gay for him because of the deep love we shared. I announced that I couldn't test his premise with another man. Nothing was resolved, but I sure was glad to be home. Saturday evening, John took me out for a great dinner at a five star restaurant. We knew that we would make love this night, but we didn't rush dinner. We had the whole night ahead of us. We weren't home ten seconds, and John's phone rang. When the caller identified himself, I tried to study John's face. I couldn't tell if it expressed amazement, surprise, happiness, shock, just a blank stare, or all the above. I kept hoping that he would say the name of the caller, so I wouldn't be in the dark. At long last, he covered the speaker and whispered to me, "It's Ian O'Connell, Ryan's twin brother" Now I was the one displaying total shock. I became totally unnerved, when John said, "Okay, you can come over. We just got home." Shit, I thought, love making would have to wait. "What's this all about?" I asked. "I don't know. He just said that he needed to apologize to us for the way he acted at his brother's dinner party. I don't know why he feels that he needs to apologize for anything." Epilogue Ian arrived in less than fifteen minutes. He looked distraught, so when he hugged both of us, we allowed it. "What's the matter?" John asked. "You look terrible." "I'm what's the matter," he said. "Explain yourself," I said, impatiently. Ian sighed, and began his narrative. "When I first moved to New York, my brother took me to his favorite gay bar to meet friends. Most of them greeted me by asking, `How ya doin'?' My life in Milwaukee had been so provincial. Basically, I was isolated from the gay community. "Suddenly, I was thrust into gay life in New York, and I got the wrong impression of how I should act. I wanted to be a cool New Yorker. Every time I met someone new, I would ask, `How ya doin'? I also equated being cool with being a player. I did my best to portray that image at Ryan's party. "It was stupid, and it was wrong. I'm not any of those things. I want love and companionship like everyone else. After the party, John, I couldn't get you out of my mind. Please give me a second chance to be myself. Have dinner with me soon. You can join us, Harper, when you are in town. I'd like that." Then the strangest thing happened. John and Ian embraced and kissed each other. Obviously John had felt something more for Ian than he let on. It also meant that John was giving Ian that second chance. I was a little embarrassed to see my stepfather kissing someone other than my biological father, so I quickly said, "I'm not leaving to return to Ithaca until tomorrow afternoon. Let's the three of us have Sunday brunch before I leave. And Ian, why don't you sleep over tonight, so you don't have to rush tomorrow morning. You and my dad can get better acquainted. That's what I've been wishing for him since I went off to college, and left the nest." Ian was happy to sleep over. They both wore boxer shorts, and didn't make love that night, but he and my dad became an item. I didn't make love that night also, but I was happy for them. In the days to come, they built a solid relationship with my blessing. At the beginning of the second semester of my freshman year, I was paired with the most beautiful co-ed I had ever seen. We were partners in a chemistry class lab experiment. Not only did we become an item also, but we set our wedding day for two weeks after graduation. Lucky for us, my fathers are paying for it along with Diana's parents. We all ended up where we were supposed to be. That's a very rare, and beautiful thing.