Date: Wed, 27 Dec 2000 09:04:02 -0600 From: Tim Foure Subject: New Story: "Me and Dad the Sequel Ch 12" (inc) Me and Dad the Sequel, Part I Extending the Family (continued) Chapter 12 Dave by Tim Foure copyright 2000 Tim Foure If you are under 18 or not permitted access to homosexual erotica where you live, then you should not read this story. The other usual disclaimers too. ___________ Chapter 12 Dave I was glad when Mike told me Linda and Charlie seemed to be hitting it off, but I did have to tell him he shouldn't tell me details about their relationship. He seemed to think I was saying this because I was jealous, but in the end I think he understood that it was really a matter of privacy. So I was surprised when Linda called me and wanted to get together to talk about her relationship with Charlie. Except for a period right before the divorce, we had been friends as well as lovers. Afterwards things were strained between us for a short while, but after that we seemed to have become even better friends than we had been before, so I didn't want to put her off and possibly ruin our new relationship by telling her it was none of my business. It occurred to me she could take that to mean any number of things besides the one I meant. It also occurred to me she might not have anyone else she was comfortable talking to about it. After all, in this kind of situation, who knows someone more intimately than an ex-husband or an ex-wife? Such is the mystery of how people deal with each other when they've remained or perhaps even become friends after a divorce. Linda looked good when she met me for dinner. I had gotten a booth in a corner because what she wanted to talk about struck me as private if not actually confidential. I greeted her with a hug and she kissed me on the cheek. I could tell she was nervous. Since I wanted her to be comfortable, I told her, "You look great! I like your dress." It was the truth. As we slid into the booth opposite each other, she replied, "Thanks. It's new. I'm glad you could meet me." "It's good to see you. Talking on the phone just isn't the same thing." We talked every day or two, often about Mike, but lately more and more about ourselves as well. "No, it isn't. I didn't realize how much I actually missed seeing you." She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. Just then a waitress arrived, giving us her welcoming spiel and telling us her name, which I promptly forgot. "How about a drink?" I asked. "Glass of white wine or are you drinking something else now?" "White wine would be perfect." "Glass of Chardonnay and a glass of whatever beer you have on tap," I told the waitress. She left after I assured her we didn't want appetizers. We made small talk. I asked her about her brother and sister and their families. As she was answering me, the waitress interrupted us to deliver our drinks and to take our orders. Since we had been talking rather than reading menus, I told her to come back. "I suppose we had better decide what we want to eat," Linda said in a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned across the table toward me. "She didn't look too pleased with us," she added with a look and a half smile that suggested we were being naughty. We had barely decided when the waitress was back. We gave her our orders and she left. Linda continued to tell me about her family, including everyone but her father and Tony-the-echo. She knew I wouldn't have bothered to pee on her father even if he had been on fire. I liked her brother-in-law Tony even less than that. She then told me how things were with my own brother and his family since she had had lunch with Terry's wife Eileen the day before. In fact, she had more current information about them and my parents than I did myself. She was just finishing when the waitress arrived with our dinners. She began talking to us even though Linda was still speaking. When everything had been placed on the table, she asked, "Everything look alright?" I looked at Linda, who nodded her head, and told her it was fine. She turned immediately and was about to vanish when I called after her, "Wait!" If I could have remembered her name, I would have added it, but as it was she heard me and turned back to face us. She looked a little exasperated. "Another glass of wine?" I asked Linda. "Well, I really shouldn't." "Another glass of Chardonnay," I told the waitress. "And another beer for me." She wrote down my order and left at full charge. "I thought if I didn't order them now, we might not see her again until we were finished eating." "You're probably right." We started our meal in silence as we tasted the things on our plates and added salt and pepper as we felt necessary. The waitress returned and deposited our drinks on the table. As she started to pick up the glasses which still contained about half of our first drinks, I told her, "We'd like to finish those. Just leave them for now." She put them down but didn't look pleased. "Sometimes I think they must charge waiters a deposit on glassware in restaurants. I don't know why else they'd be so determined to carry it away at the first opportunity." "I think you're right," Linda said. We ate in silence for another minute or two. I wanted to give Linda a chance to begin talking about whatever was on her mind. Suddenly she said, "Charlie's asked me to marry him. I've said 'yes'." She continued to look at her plate rather than at me. "Congratulations!" I told her, reaching across the table to take her hand and squeezing it. "I've always thought he was a nice guy. I hope the two of you'll be very happy together." She raised her head and gave me a sheepish smile. "I wondered how you'd take it." "Listen, I've got no hard feelings. At least none toward you. I think it's great you're going to get on with your life. And I'm serious about Charlie. I don't know him real well, but he always struck me as a decent guy." The smile filled out. "He makes me happy, he really does." "I'm glad to hear it," I replied as I went back to eating my dinner. "There's something else too." I noticed she hadn't started eating again and she looked more nervous than she had since she arrived. "What?" I asked. "I'd like you to come to the wedding." I put down my knife and fork. When I had chewed and swallowed, I said, "Your father will have a stroke." "He can have whatever he wants. I've been doing a lot of thinking about us. I think we would have had a better chance if I had stood up to him from the beginning. He treated you badly over me getting pregnant. And I know it was as much my fault as it was yours. We did it together. You didn't seduce me against my will or anything like that and I always knew it. But I let Father get away with blaming you all that time." I just smiled at her. I didn't know what to say. After a pause and a sip of wine, she continued. "I guess I really didn't figure it out until Father slapped Mike and he told him you'd kill him if he hit him again. I knew there was a good chance that was true. Well, not that you'd kill him." There was a half smile. "But that you would certainly have made him very sorry he'd done it. I think Father knew it too. I realized later you'd have made Father very sorry if he had hit me that way too. I'm sorry I let that break us up." "I don't know if that broke us up. I think it was just the last straw with your father as far as I was concerned. I couldn't work it out in my head why you would defend his behavior. And I knew you were struggling with it. I should have waited longer for you to get a grip on it instead of putting pressure on you. There's probably enough blame to go around that neither one of us has to shoulder it all." There was another pause. Then Linda picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. "Well, I've got a grip on it now." I began eating as well. "Good for you." "And I want you to come to the wedding. You're my best friend in the world. You always have been. Really!" "I'll be there. I can't wait to see the look on your father's face." "That's if he survives the stroke he'll have when I tell him you're coming," she said with a smile. I just smiled back. We ate in companionable silence for a few more minutes. "There's more," she said. "Oh?" "I know you really got worked over in the divorce settlement. I want to start making that right. Both Charlie and I do. I've talked to him about it and we've made some decisions. I'm going to take over the house payments starting this month. I can afford it on the salary I'm making now. And Charlie wants to start paying you back after we're married for half of the equity we have in the house. He hasn't been in practice very long so he can't handle it all right away, but he wants to start doing it on a regular basis." I was amazed. "I don't know what to say. Listen, it's not that I don't want the money. But you don't have to do that, you really don't." "Yes, I do. We do. If we don't, we'll be starting off like you and I did with Father involved where he shouldn't be." I couldn't argue with that. I was surprised she looked at it that way. And I was happy for her. After a few more minutes she said, "You know what I've been thinking about lately?" I couldn't guess. But she had already floored me with what she had said, so it could have been anything. "What?" "The time we got sunburned and couldn't stand to wear any clothes," she said with a broad smile. Then she leaned across the table and added in a whisper, "Do you remember how good the sex was then?" I leaned toward her and whispered back, "Sure do! We couldn't get enough." Still in a whisper, she said, "I was sore because we did it so many times." "Me too! It was great, though!" "You know, I thought so too. I bet we did it fifty times that week. More than we probably did it in a whole year at home." "I think you're right." I began to remember the whole vacation and especially meeting Beth and Paul on the nude beach. I think Linda was remembering as well, because we ate for a while without speaking. In fact, we were nearly finished when she said without raising her head, "Sex with Charlie is like that." This was yet another surprise. I decided to keep the tone as light as it had been since we started talking about our sore sex organs. "Good man Charlie!" Linda looked up from her plate and straight at me with a very earnest look on her face. "It's not anything he does that you didn't do. You always tried to make sure it was good for me. It's just that Father's not involved in it when I do it with Charlie. He'd probably be surprised to know Charlie and I were having sex. But Father always took every opportunity to let you and me know he only let us get married because I had gotten pregnant. It was like he was there in the bed with us. When we were away from here that first time I couldn't believe what a difference there was. It was just the two of us in bed that week. And it was great!" "I thought it was great too. I wish you'd've told me. We'd've done something about it. We could have moved away. We could've done something." "Well, it's all in the past now. But I wanted to tell you." "It just makes me doubly happy for you." At this point the waitress returned. "Can I interest you in some dessert? We have some nice . . ." Neither Linda nor I was ever much of a dessert eater. As the waitress continued to talk, I raised an eyebrow at Linda to ask if she wanted anything. She shook her head, just one quick shake, to tell me she didn't. "No," I told the waitress, who had already begun to clear the table. "But we do want a bottle of champagne." "No, Dave!" Linda said. "We really shouldn't." "Sure we should. To toast your upcoming wedding." We drank the whole bottle, remembering and laughing over every good time we had ever had together. When the bottle was empty, we were too drunk to drive and had to take taxis home. But the memory of that vacation stayed with me, popping up from time to time over the next few days until I gave Paul a call to find out when his next business trip would be. "Three weeks from Wednesday. I'll be there until the following Tuesday. I was going to call you over the weekend. Can I stay with you or is that one of your weekends with Mike?" I counted it up. "He's with Linda that weekend. But he stays overnight with me on Wednesdays. Can you do a hotel for the one night and move here on Thursday?" "Probably should make it Friday then. I've got a dinner meeting on Thursday. It could go late." "Friday it is. I'm looking forward to it." "Not as much as I am. Seems like it's been a hell of a long time since I've had my hands on you." "Just as long for me. And it's not your hands I'm interested in." Mike seemed excited when I picked him up that Friday. As I pulled away from the curb, he said, "Guess what!" "What?" "Mom told me she and Charlie are getting married." "Yeah, I know." Suddenly Mike banged his fist on the dashboard, surprising me so much I had to stop the car. I stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "Just once I'd like to be the first one to know something. Just once!" "I figure Charlie was the first one to know when he asked your mom." "You know what I mean. Sometime I want to be able to tell you something before you already know it." "Just wait. It'll happen." When he didn't go on, I waited a minute and then asked, "You ok with it?" "Huh? Oh, sure! Charlie's a cool guy." As I pulled away from the curb again, I decided to add something else he didn't know. "Your mom's asked me to come to the wedding." "Really? Gonna do it?" "Certainly am," I said with a smug smile. "Grandfather'll have a stroke or something." "I said the same thing," I told him with a laugh. "Ya know, I don't think Mom pays as much attention to what he thinks as she used to." I let him have that one. "Really?" "Yeah, really. She's different now than she was before." "Good different?" "Oh, yeah. Definitely." "Something else too," I said. "What?" "Paul's coming." "When?" I gave him the details. "Hey," he said. "I can just stay at Mom's that Wednesday and he can stay with you." "And you tell your mom what, that you're staying home so I can have sex with Paul? She'll think it's funny if you don't stay with me. We haven't missed a single Wednesday dinner since we got through with the divorce. Not to mention that I want you to stay with me." "Well, I could stay at your place but I could sleep on the sofa." "Lemme see how this is gonna go. I say to Paul, 'Mike's gonna be sleeping on the sofa, but he won't suspect anything's going on in here as long as you don't make too much noise when you cum.' And Paul says to me, 'No problem. I'll bite on a sock or something.' Doesn't sound too weird to me. How about to you?" "Well," he said from under his eyebrows while he stared down at his plate, "I could sleep with you guys." "Wrong!" Looking up at me, he said with a smile, "I didn't think that was gonna work. But I thought I'd give it a shot." "Paul doesn't know about us, ya know." "Would he freak?" "Don't think so. But it gets complicated when you share a secret with too many people. Think about what it was like with Chris and Larry." "Oh. Yeah, trying to work that out was hard." "Remember all that talk about trust?" "Don't you trust Paul." "It's not that. I do trust him. But it's not just my secret." "It's ok with me if you decide to tell him." "Thanks, I'll remember that if I do." "You gonna ask him to have dinner with us that Wednesday?" "It's an idea. What do you think?" "I haven't seen him in a long time. I think it'd be great." "I'll ask him then." Mike was quiet for a while after that. I began to wonder what was going on inside his head. "So what were you thinking about just now? Something was on your mind." I was sure it had to do with their getting married in some way, but I wasn't sure how. "I was wondering if Paul really does have pink hair on his balls." To be continued _______________ Comments appreciated. Send them to TimFoure@hotmail.com. Flames ignored. Earlier chapters of this story are archived at http://www.nifty.org in the gay male/incest section.