Date: Thu, 30 May 2002 07:48:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "My Father, My Son"  50th Installment

This is Chapter 50, a continuation of "My Father, My Son."  All of the
conditions, warnings, and disclaimers listed at the beginning of the early
chapters of this series apply.  All comments are welcome, constructive or
destructive, and will be responded to.


Send to:   Tom Borden,   tombor99@yahoo.com


My Father, My Son
Chapter 50

Enrique stood before Michael with his head bowed, looking at the floor.
Michael said, "What's the matter, Ricky, you look like you lost your best
friend.  You and Noah haven't had any problem, have you?"

Enrique said, without looking up, "Who's my father?"

Michael suddenly felt the adrenaline surging through his body.  The
question was like a hammer-blow.  It was instantly obvious that somehow
Enrique had learned the truth.  He stood there speechless for a few
moments.

Finally Michael said, "Ricky, why don't we have a couple of horses saddled
up and let's take a ride out to a place where we can be by ourselves for a
little while."

Enrique said nothing, but continued to look at the floor.  Michael took him
by the hand and they walked out through the kitchen to the back veranda.
He shouted to one of the hands to please saddle up a couple of horses.  As
luck would have it, he was told that two of the workers had just come in
off the range, and there were two horses already saddled and watered.

Michael and Enrique rode out to the far reaches of the ranch to the little
stream where they had each been many times.  Tying their horses' reins to a
tree branch, Michael led Enrique over to a grassy area by the water where
they both sat down.

At length, Michael said, "Ricky, why did you ask me that question?"

Enrique said, "That Ron somebody came into the equipment barn when I was
working there, and he said he wanted to fuck me.  I told him I wouldn't do
it.  And he got mad.  Then he told me that . . . ."

"What did he tell you, Ricky?"

"He told me that Ol' Ben was my father."

"I see." Said Michael softly.

"Well, is it true?"

"Ricky, things happen in our lives that we don't understand . . . things
we'll never understand.  It is true.  Ol' Ben was your father," said
Michael, knowing no gentler way to answer the question.

"Michael, why didn't he ever tell me?" pleaded Enrique.  "He told me my
father disappeared after I was born."

"Oh, Ricky," said Michael, putting his arm around Enrique's shoulder, and
still unable to find the right words.

"My mama must have loved my dad . . . or who I thought was my dad," said
Enrique as he looked off toward the horizon.

"Ricky, your mama was never married.  She was just a young girl."

Enrique buried his face in his hands and began to cry.  Michael tightened
his grip on Enrique's shoulders and said, "Your mother had lost her own
parents in a truck accident, and Ol' Ben took her in and gave her a home.
Ol' Ben was very kind to her.  But after awhile, when his own wife . . . my
mother . . . died, he fell in love with your mother.  And she with him.
So, Ricky, you were born out of their love for each other."

"Why didn't he ever tell me?  Why did he lie to me?" sobbed Enrique.

"I don't know, Ricky.  Maybe he didn't want you to think bad of him.  He
loved your mother, and he loved you very much.  I think you knew that,
didn't you?"

Enrique wiped his eyes and said, "I know he did.  And I loved him, too."

Michael said, "Ricky, nothing has changed.  Everything is still the same.
I probably should have told you the truth before this.  The fact that Ol'
Ben was your father doesn't mean anything has changed in your life now.
Just think that if it hadn't been for Ol' Ben's love and the care he gave
you, you wouldn't have the good life you have now.  That will never
change."

"I know."

"We all love you, Ricky.  And you're very precious to me personally.  That
will never change.  What you just found out doesn't change anything.  You
have a home here for as long as you want to be here."

Enrique turned and put his arms around Michael, and said, "This means
you're my brother, doesn't it?"

"It sure does, Ricky," said Michael as he kissed the top of Enrique's head.
"And I couldn't be happier.  Not everybody has a wonderful brother like
you!  I'm very proud of you."

Enrique looked up into Michael's eyes and said, "I guess it's okay, then.
But I still don't know why nobody told me."

"I wish we had.  It was wrong that we didn't."

Enrique smiled.  "I'm a real Walker now, aren't I?"

"My boy, you always have been," said Michael.

"I guess I better get back to my chores.  Jake'll be mad if I don't get
them done," said Enrique.

"No, no," said Michael.  "This has been a kind of traumatic thing for you,
Ricky.  Let's just stay here for awhile and talk some more.  I'll take care
of Jake.  He'll understand.  Let's just lie back here and look at the
clouds roll by and relax."

Michael and Enrique lay back on the grass with their hands beneath their
heads.  "You know, Ricky," said Michael.  "When I was a boy, one of the
things I loved to do most was to come way out here all alone and just lie
here and watch the clouds.  They're all different shapes, and in my
imagination, they began to look like all sorts of things . . . horses,
people with funny heads, possums, coyotes, dancers.  And it was always best
when we had a day when the sky was full of friendly puffies."

"What's friendly puffies?  Where did you get that?" asked Enrique.

"Oh, my mother used to look outside every morning to see what kind of day
it was going to be.  And when the sky was full of friendly puffies, just
like these, she would say, 'Well, we're going to have dappled sunlight
today, with no rain.'  Even though we always wanted rain, she liked to see
clouds with no rain in them.  They were her friendly puffies."

Michael and Enrique continued to watch the clouds for awhile.  Then Enrique
asked, "Michael did you know my mama?"

"Oh, yes," said Michael, smiling.  "She was so pretty.  She had beautiful
dark skin like yours, Ricky, and very long black hair.  I remember she
would twist it up and pin it on the back of her head.  But when she let it
loose, it would hang down to the middle of her back.  She couldn't speak
much English, but she would always smile so sweetly and say 'Good morning'
to me when she saw me, whether it was morning, afternoon or evening.  She
was happy here, Ricky."

"I wish I had a picture of her," said Enrique.

Michael thought a moment and said, "I've never seen a picture of her.
There may not be one.  When Ol' Ben died, we packed up a lot of his stuff
in boxes.  He had stuff strewn all over and we didn't look at much of it
when we packed it up, and I haven't been through any of it since then.
There might be a picture of your mama in one of those boxes.  When we go
back, let's take a look."

They lay there for a long time just looking at the clouds and their
changing shapes.  Michael finally said, "Would you like to go back now,
Ricky?  We can stay here as long as you want.  I want you to just take the
day off."

"No, I guess we can go back..  Can we look through those boxes when we get
back?"

"We sure can!  I'll race you back to the barn!"

Michael and Enrique ran to their horses and set off for home.  They spurred
their horses on as best they could, but the race was a dead heat.  Michael
took Enrique into the house and into the storeroom where the boxes had been
put.  They both searched through two of the boxes and found nothing.  But
in the third, they came across a four by five inch photograph of Enrique's
mother.  The picture had been taken on the back verandah where she was
sitting in a rocker.

Enrique sat on the floor, holding the picture and silently looking at it
very carefully.  After many minutes, he said, "Look, she's sitting in that
same rocker I always sit in when I'm on the veranda.  She looks so young!"

"I think she must have been about fifteen in that picture," said Michael.
"And that was around the time you were born."

Tears welled up in Enrique's eyes.  As he held the picture to his lips, he
sobbed, "Oh, mama, I'm sorry."

"Enrique, you shouldn't be sorry for anything," said Michael, crouching
down beside Enrique and putting his arm around his shoulder.

"If I hadn't been born, she'd be alive now."

"Oh, Ricky, that wasn't your fault.  You shouldn't ever think that.  She
wanted you to be born.  Even before you were born, she loved you."

Michael took the picture and tried to flatten out the bent corners.
"Ricky, would you like me to find a nice frame for this so you can put it
on your dresser in your room?"

"Yes.  Thank you.  That would be very nice."

Back in Michael's office, he looked through a cupboard and found a silver
frame decorated gracefully with tiny leaves in silver around the edges.
Holding it up, he said, "I used to have a picture of Jeff in this frame.
But he always hated that picture and he swiped it one day, and would never
return it.  I think this would be perfect for your mother's picture."

Michael carefully installed the picture in the frame and handed it to
Enrique.  "Here you are, Ricky."

"Thank you, Michael.  You're the best . . . brother I ever had!"

They both laughed.  Soon Enrique said, "I'm going to go and put this in my
room.  And then I think I'd better get back to my chores.  I feel okay
now."  Then hugging Michael tightly, he said, "Thank you!" and then ran
off.

Michael walked into his adjoining bedroom and sat on the side of his bed.
He had felt so much like crying the whole time he was with Enrique.  He
felt so badly for him learning the truth this way.  But it would not have
helped Enrique to see him break down.  Now he felt nothing but anger.
Moving back to his desk, he sat down and scribbled out a check.  Going to
the back door, he called to Jake who was just leaving his room.

"Jake, would you please fetch Ron and both of you come in here to my
office?"

When Jake and Ron walked in, Michael stood by his desk and said, "Ron, I
want you to gather up your things and I want you off this ranch by
sundown."

"Huh?" grunted Ron.  Jake stood looking at Michael with his mouth hanging
open.

"You heard me," said Michael in measured tones.  "I am not going to
tolerate anyone on this ranch who behaves as you did with Enrique."

Jake uttered, "What the fuck?"

Michael turned to Jake and said, "I'll explain to you, later, Jake."

Ron muttered, "That little shit about killed me!"  Raising his shirt, he
said, "Look at this bruise on my side!  And he almost broke my fuckin'
knee!"

"I know all about that," said Michael.  "It was the least you deserved.
Now I'm giving you something else you deserve."  Handing the check to Ron,
he said, "It's your final check.  Now get out of here!  And remember!  Be
gone by no later than sundown!"

As Ron turned to leave, he shouted at Michael, "You fuckin' piss hole!
You're nothin' but a fuckin' queer!  You and all yer fuckin' faggot
friends!  I'll be fuckin' glad to be rid of the whole fuckin' bunch of ya!"

As Ron stormed out, Michael called after him, "The feeling's mutual!"

Jake sat down heavily in a chair and looked at Michael quizzically.
Michael explained what had happened.  Jake could only shake his head and
say, "Poor Ricky.  The poor little fucker!  We shoulda told him a long time
ago."

"I know," said Michael, "But it's best now that he knows.  I think he's
going to be alright.  We found a picture of his mother, and I framed it for
him so he could keep it in his room."

"Oh, I remember her," said Jake.  "She was a sweetie."

After Jake left, Michael went out to find Noah.  Finding him in the horse
barn, he asked him to sit down for a few minutes with him on a nearby bale
of hay.  "Noah, I just wanted to tell you that Ricky has just found out
something about his family he hadn't known before.  He's quite upset.  I'm
sure he'll tell you about it.  He now has a picture I gave him of his
mother.  And you'll see it when you go back to your room.  His feelings are
pretty fragile right now, and I just wanted to ask you to be particularly
loving and understanding with him when you see him.  Don't ask him too many
questions.  Just let him tell you in his own way and in his own time.
Okay?"

"Sure, Michael.  I will.  I hope nothing real bad happened to him."

"No, nothing bad.  He's just had a bit of shock.  But he'll be fine."
Putting his hand on Noah's arm, he said, "He loves you very much, Noah, and
it will do him a lot of good to have you with him and understand."


It was now finally Friday.  Michael and Jeff got dressed, each in sport
coat and tie.  Francisco's show was at the elegant St. Anthony Hotel in San
Antonio, and a dress code was enforced.  As they entered the Menger Hotel
on Alamo Plaza, Michael looked over at the line of tourists waiting to get
into the Alamo just across the side street.

"You know, Jeff, maybe tomorrow before we leave, we ought to take a tour of
the Alamo and the grounds.  It's been years since I've been in there.  And
I always loved the gardens around it."

"We might as well, since we're here," said Jeff.  "I think the last time I
was in there was when my third grade class took a tour through it.  And I
don't think at that age I appreciated what I was looking at."

They were given a room in the old original historic part of the hotel where
Michael always insists on staying when he was in San Antonio.  Michael made
a quick call to a feed distributor in the area to arrange a shipment to the
ranch.  He then went into the bathroom to sit a spell while Jeff stretched
out on the bed.  He was beginning to doze a bit when the phone rang.

When Jeff answered, the voice on the other end said, "Is this Michael?"

"No, this is his son, Jeff."

"Oh, Jeff!  This is Francisco!  Are you here with your father?"

"Francisco!  Good to hear from you.  Yes, my dad and I are up here to
attend the opening of your show tonight."

Francisco said, "I am so glad that you will be there, too, Jeff.  I look
forward to seeing you again.  To have you both sitting right down in front
so I can see you will make me do a very good show.  If you were not there,
I would be sad.  Is Michael there?"

Yes, but he's in sitting on the throne at the moment.  Let me see if the
phone line will stretch that far.  Ah, yes it does.  Here's dad."

"Francisco!" shouted Michael.  "So good of you to call.  I know you must be
nervous about your first show in America."

"No, no, Michael.  I was only nervous that you might not be there.  I will
tell you a secret.  I am very hard thinking about seeing you."

Jeff, standing in the doorway could see his father's penis hardening and
poking up at a forty-five degree angle over the toilet seat.

"I am . . . ahem . . . hard too, Francisco," said Michael, giving a wink to
Jeff.

As they talked, Jeff smiled as he watched a long string of semen begin ooze
out of Michael's penis and dangle down onto the toilet seat.

"Will I see you and Jeff after the show?"

"Yes, of course.  If you can, we would like to have you up to our room for
a drink or something, responded Michael."

"That is supper!"

"You mean super, Francisco," commented Michael.

"Yes, that is what I said.  Supper!"

As Michael laughed, Francisco said, "You make fun of my English!  You are a
bad boy!"

"I'll never make fun of you Francisco.  I love you too much!" said Michael,
as he watched Jeff wagging a warning finger at him.

"Goodbye, Michael.  I have to run now because we need to rehearse just a
little.

At the St. Anthony, Michael gave their names to a young maitre d'.  The
response was, "Oh, yes, Mr. Walker.  Mr. Guevara has arranged for you a
table down in front."  As he seated Michael and Jeff, he said, "I think you
will enjoy the show.  I watched them rehearse this afternoon, and wow!
That Francisco is . . . shall we say . . . ."

"Hot?" said Michael.

"Oh, thank you, sir.  He's more than hot, he's . . ."

"Sexy?"

"Oh, Mr. Walker.  Do you know him personally?"

"Yes, I do.  And he IS sexy."

The Maitre d' looked up and down at both Michael and Jeff and said, "Are
you two . . . you know . . .together?"

"Well, yes," answered Michael.  "We're sitting together."

"I mean . . . are you two, you know, together?  Partners?"

Michael put his arm around Jeff's shoulder and pulled him close so their
cheeks met momentarily.  "Yes, we are partners.  And he's my son."

The Maitre d' stood stunned for a moment and then rushed back to the door.

"That queen is pretty nosy, wouldn't you say, dad?"

Soon all the tables were full, the light dimmed, and Francisco stepped from
the wings into the spotlight to much applause.  He looked down at Michael
and Jeff with a smile, welcomed everyone and then went right into his first
number.  Francisco seemed to keep his eyes on Michael and Jeff during the
whole first show, and they on him.  The first show lasted about an hour,
and as the final applause died down, Francisco came to the table and told
them that it was customary for him to go back to his dressing room and lie
down to rest up for the second and last show.  He told them that their
table was reserved for both shows if they wished to stay.  But in the
interim before the second show began, they might wish to go to the lobby
bar and have a drink.

Michael said, "Yes, we are going to stay and see the second show, or rather
look at you again!  But I think we would like to get up and move around,
maybe go out on the street for a bit."

Outside, across the street from the hotel was a block-sized downtown park,
called Travis Park.  Michael and Jeff decided to take a stroll through it,
and as they walked, Michael said, "Jeff, this used to be one of the great
cruising areas in San Antonio.  When we were in high school, Caleb and I
used to come up here occasionally and hang out here.  We were just minors
then, but I can't count the number of times we got out dicks sucked.  We'd
sit on one of these benches, and when some guy would come along and
proposition us, we'd take him behind one of the park benches or we'd get
into one of those clumps of bushes.  Those were fun times.  But I
understand the city has 'cleaned up' this park.  I don't know where the
good cruising areas are anymore.  I'll have to ask Mark and Corky.  They've
lived here long enough.  They probably know."

"Dad, I'm sorry they cleaned it up," sighed Jeff.  "I was going to ask you
to sit on one of those benches, and then I would come along and ask you if
you want your dick sucked.  And then we could go lie down behind the bench
and I could suck your dick.  It would be a little nostalgia for you, dad."

Michael smiled and said, "If I want my dick sucked by you, there'll be time
enough for that.  And I don't think you'll have to wait long, either."

Michael and Jeff went back and saw Francisco's second show.  When it was
over, Francisco once again came to the table.  Michael said, "Here,
Francisco.  I've written down our hotel room number.  Do you know where the
Menger Hotel is?  Just walk a block over to Houston Street, and then two or
three blocks east.  You'll come right out on Alamo Plaza, and you'll see
our hotel right next to the Alamo."

"Okay, that's supper!"  I'll go now and get out of my costume and make-up
and I'll be there in a jiffy!  You'll be waiting up in your room, no?"

When Michael and Jeff got back to their room, they quickly got out of their
coats and ties.  Michael opened his portable liquor case and put a bottle
of Scotch on the table, as Jeff went down the hall to the icemaker.  They
both had had a considerable amount to drink during the show, but not enough
to destroy their senses completely.

Soon there was a knock on the door.  It was Francisco, now in Bermuda
shorts and a colorful Mexican short sleeved shirt.  Michael looked at him
and said, "You are absolutely gorgeous, Francisco!  You could wear nothing,
and still be gorgeous . . . I mean . . . ."

"Well, I hope so, Michael," said Francisco, laughing and holding out his
arms.  "Come here and let me hug you, my love."

Jeff found himself thoroughly attracted to Francisco, with his beautiful,
yet masculine face, sensuous arms and legs, and that same wonderful dark
color to his skin that everyone admired on Enrique.

Breaking away from Michael, Francisco turned to Jeff and once again holding
out his arms, said "Please, Jeff, you handsome Gringo, let me hug you, too.
I am so glad you came with your father.  I remember you when I saw you in
Acapulco.  You have a very handsome father, and Michael, you have a very
handsome son!"

Michael said, "How about a little Scotch, Francisco, just to loosen you
up?"

"Oh, I'm already loose, but thank you, I think I'll get looser."  Francisco
sat in a chair with his legs apart.  His penis had been hard from the
moment he walked in the door.  He saw Michael looking at his bulge.
"Michael!  Are you cruising me?"

"Well, I don't think we call it 'cruising' when we're sitting like this
face to face.  I think one would be more likely to call it 'cruising' when
one is looking over someone one doesn't know."

Jeff said, "Well, Francisco, it looks to me like the more appropriate word
in dad's case right now is 'horny!'"

"Oh, I know the word horny!" said Francisco with a wry smile.  "We use that
word in Argentina, too."

Michael stood up and said, "Well, we're here alone among friends, what do
you say we get more comfortable . . . as in no clothes!"

The clothes came off quickly, and the three sat back down with their major
hard-ons poking straight up.  Jeff, however, was still not sure that he
belonged there.  Francisco was his dad's friend, and he felt a little like
an interloper.  His concern and nervousness on this account prevented his
penis from getting beyond the semi-soft stage.

Francisco reached over and took hold of Jeff's penis.  "What's this, Jeff?
This looks like you're not ready for business!"

Michael said, "Oh, he just needs a little stimulation."

As Francisco cupped Jeff's balls in one hand and slowly stroked his penis
with the other, he said, "Jeff, for a young man, you have your father's
balls and his cock.  They look like twins."

Jeff said, "Well, Francisco, I'm not a kid anymore.  I AM fully grown."  As
his penis rose to its full height and width, Jeff said, "I actually think
my cock is just a little bigger than dad's.  Can't you tell?"

Michael walked over to the king size bed and threw back the spread and the
sheet.  Throwing himself on the bed, he said, "Maybe you can test us out,
Francisco.  Actually, I think I'm a little bigger than Jeff."

Jeff and Francisco rose up and climbed into bed, with Michael between them.
As Francisco held their penises, one in each hand, he said, "I'll be able
to tell positively when I can get them in my mouth.  I'll say one thing,
Jeff, your father pumps out a lot more pre-cum than you do."  As he licked
the head of each penis, he said, "This makes you horny, no?"

Michael and Jeff said in unison, "Yes, that makes me horny!"

Jeff looked over Francisco's God-like body and he crouched over his dad's
penis, and suddenly felt so inferior.  He ran his hands over the soft hair
on Francisco's sensuous brown legs.  Then, not being able to hold back, he
kissed and ran his tongue over those legs all he way up to Francisco's ass
cheeks.  As Francisco was on his knees, leaning over Michael's penis, Jeff
had a beautiful view of his long ball sack from behind as it hung loosely
between his thighs.  As Jeff ran his tongue over the sack, the balls swayed
erotically back and forth.  This sent Jeff into an erotic trance.  Pushing
closer, he pulled apart Francisco's firm round ass cheeks and pushed his
face into the thicket of black hair that filled it.  The hot, moist,
masculine taste and aroma spurred him on to seek out the precious hole.
When his tongue was finally able to push its way through the snarl of hair,
it found the hole, which Francisco had completely relaxed, inviting him to
enter the sacred cavity.  Jeff's tongue slid in easily.  The taste drove
him almost mad.

Francisco began to moan as he ran Michael's gorged penis in and out of his
mouth, all the way to the hilt.  Michael suddenly pulled away, saying, "Not
yet, Francisco!  You have me at the very brink.  I don't want to cum yet."

Francisco rolled off of Michael and said, "Jeff, lie down next to your
father.  I want to test your penis.  And then I can tell who really has the
biggest."

As Francisco took the full length of Jeff's throbbing cock into his mouth,
Michael went around behind to try out Francisco's asshole for himself.  He
found the mass of hair soaking wet from his son's saliva, and was able to
slip his own tongue easily in past the quivering ring of muscle around the
hole and into the rectum.  Michael thought, "This hole is just crying out
to be fucked."

Michael said, "Francisco, raise your ass up a little higher so I can get
into you.  Standing upright on his knees, Michael plunged his hard penis
into Francisco's hole, which immediately clamped down tightly around it.
Michael could feel on his penis the warm wetness of Francisco's rectum as
he pumped.

As Francisco vigorously sucked Jeff's cock, Jeff ran his hands over the
velvety soft skin on Francisco's shoulders and arms.  Francisco's long hair
was hanging down on Jeff's stomach, which tickled him almost unbearably.
Michael looked down and watched his penis going in and out of the crack
between Francisco's luscious ass cheeks.  If this could only last forever,
he thought.  Suddenly, he felt that wonderful tingle begin to take over the
whole middle part of his body.  He held onto Francisco's hips tightly, and
could feel every muscle in his body begin to strain and tighten.  There was
no holding back this time.  His orgasm suddenly and completely took over
his body, as he felt his sperm surging up through his penis and out into
Francisco's rectum.  With each blast, he pounded his hips against
Francisco's.  Don't let it stop, said Michael to himself.

When it was finally over, Jeff turned his head, and said.  "Francisco, when
I knew dad was cumming, I almost did, too.  Would you let me fuck you now?

Francisco lay on his back and pulled those gorgeous legs up until his
thighs were pressed against his chest.  Jeff got into position, but before
mounting him, he looked down at Francisco's body, which he felt he could
never get enough of.  He ran his hands over Francisco's chest and stomach
and arms.  He once again kissed and licked Francisco's calves.  Doing this
was so powerfully erotic, Jeff felt as though he was going to cum before he
could get his cock anywhere near the treasured hole.  Great globs of
pre-cum were now running out of his penis and, before he mounted, Michael
leaned over quickly and sucked off all the pre-cum.

Jeff couldn't resist leaning over and sucking as much of his dad's cum off
the black hair that filled the trench.  Then he mounted and thrust his hard
rod into Francisco's hole as deep as it would go.  He began slowly since he
was already very close.

"Pound me hard, Jeff," whispered Francisco.

"I'm too close.  I don't want to cum right away," said Jeff.

But it was no use.  He was too close.  So Jeff did as Francisco wished and
began pounding his penis into him as hard as he could.  Tossing his head
back and forth, Jeff let out a long agonizing grown as he entered his
orgasm, sending one strong surge of cum after another into Francisco's
rectum to be mingled with what was left there by his father.  When it was
over, Jeff collapsed onto Francisco where he could feel his own sweaty skin
pressing against Francisco's, also covered with sweat.

As Jeff rolled off and lay beside Francisco, Michael said, "You haven't
told us yet which one of us has the biggest cock."

Francisco smiled and said, "I don't think I will tell you.  I don't want to
cause a rift between father and son!  Anyway, which one of you wants me to
fuck you?"

Both Michael and Jeff had expectant looks on their faces.  Francisco said,
"I want to fuck you both, but I can only do one . . . right now, anyway."

Michael jumped up and went to his liquor case and brought back two drink
sticks.  "We'll draw straws, okay?  Here, Francisco, break a piece off of
one of them and then hold them so we can't see which one is the longest.
You get to fuck the one of us who has the longest stick."

Francisco held the sticks in his hand and told Jeff to draw one.  Then
Michael drew the other.  Jeff had the long stick.  Michael smiled and
leaning over to kiss his son, he said, "Jeff, I've had some great fucks
from Francisco.  Now it's good that you'll get to see what a great
Argentinian fuck is like."

"How do you want to do it, Francisco?" said Jeff.  "From the front or from
the back."

"From the front, always!  I want to look at your sweet face while I'm
fucking you!"

Jeff lay on his back and pulled his legs up as far as they would go, easily
revealing his pink asshole.

"Just a minute," said Michael.  "It's been awhile since I've had a look at
Jeff's pretty hole."  He leaned over and gave his son's asshole several
loving sweeps with his tongue, flooding it as much as he could with saliva.
"Okay Francisco, give him the best fuck you can!  Only the best for my
son!"

Jeff watched Francisco's sensuous body as he lowered himself into Jeff's
ass crack.  Jeff could hardly believe that he was watching this God of
beauty pushing himself closer.  A thrill like he had never felt came over
him as he felt Francisco's penis pushing into his gut.  He could hardly
believe he was not dreaming.  He watched Francisco's pectorals jumping at
each thrust, and reached up to squeeze his large nipples.  As he did so,
Francisco's face began to contort with agonizing pleasure.  He prayed that
each thrust would not be the last.  Michael lay close so his head was next
to his son's hips, where he could watch close up Francisco's penis, hard
and red with bulging veins circling it, slide in and slide out of his son's
asshole.

Francisco could feel Jeff's hole rapidly snapping onto his penis, as if to
pull it farther in.  He knew that, after all that had gone before, his
balls and his prostate were loaded with semen and sperm, and it was almost
impossible to hold it in.  He had been just on the very verge of orgasm
from the moment he entered Jeff's hole, but now he had go over the edge.
Suddenly, Jeff could feel the hot blast of cum as it surged out of
Francisco's penis.  He watched Francisco's face as it contorted wildly.  He
saw streams of sweat running down Francisco's stomach, with heavy drops
falling from each nipple.  Francisco humped his hips with each surge of his
sperm.

But it was finally over.  As Francisco slowly rolled off, Jeff kept his
legs up against his chest.  He and Michael looked at each other.  Quickly
understanding Jeff's invitation, Michael buried his face in his son's ass
trench and sucked out as much of Francisco's cum as he could.

Michael, Jeff, and Francisco lay on their backs side by side, pressed up
against each other like three naked babies in row.  They were all exhausted
and breathing heavily.  They each wanted desperately to drop off to sleep,
but no one wanted to be the first one.

Michael finally looked at his watch and, seeing that it was one o'clock,
said, "Why don't we all try to get some sleep now, and maybe we can wake up
later."

Everyone agreed, and all were sound asleep in minutes.  When Francisco
finally awoke, Michael and Jeff were lying on either side of him with their
arms lying over his chest and stomach.  They had forgotten to pull the
drapes, and the sun was pouring in on them from the window.  Looking at his
watch, he saw that it was nine o'clock in the morning.  He leaned over and
kissed both Michael and Jeff on the lips, which awakened them both.

Francisco said, "I hate to say it, but I need to get going because we have
a rehearsal scheduled later this morning."

Michael and Jeff sat up and, realizing what time it was, both agreed that
they needed also to get back to the ranch.  But looking at each other, they
couldn't resist.  They arranged themselves on the bed so that they were
able to have a three-way suck off.  Michael sucked on Francisco, who sucked
on Jeff, who sucked on Michael.  It was as exciting as it had been the
night before.  They would have wanted to all take a shower together, but it
was a one-man shower, so each took a shower separately.

While Jeff was in the shower, Michael said, "Francisco, tell me
confidentially while Jeff's not listening, which one of us has the biggest
dick?"

Francisco said, "Well, Michael, It's definitely you.  But it would be best
if you didn't say anything to Jeff.  We don't want him to feel bad."

Then when Michael was in the shower, Jeff asked Francisco the same thing.
"Well, Jeff, you definitely have the biggest dick.  But since we don't want
to make your dad feel bad, it might be a good idea to not say anything."

"Mums the word," said Jeff with a wink.

All three went down to the dining room for breakfast before they said
goodbye.  Francisco revealed that his agent had arranged for an engagement
at a club in New York in three weeks, and that he was really thrilled about
it.

After congratulating Francisco, Michael said, "You know that when Karl left
the ranch, he went back to New York.  He said he was going to get
treatment, but I haven't heard a word from him.  I wish there was some way
you could find out where he is up there while you're there.  I know you'll
be busy, and I wouldn't want you to spend any time on it."

Francisco said, "My agent is very familiar with New York.  He'll be up
there with me.  Maybe he can make some inquiries about Karl's whereabouts.
Do you have any information at all?"

Michael wrote down on a paper napkin the name of Karl's father's firm and
handed it to Francisco.  "This is the only thing I know.  Maybe someone at
that office will know something."

When breakfast was over, and they were all standing out on the sidewalk,
Michael said, "I had hoped that we would be able to have you visit us down
at the ranch while you were here."

"There would be nothing I would like more, Michael," said Francisco.  "But
we have performances every night, and when we're through, we'll be flying
to New York.  If I come back through this area again, though, I'll do all I
can to get a few days off to visit you down there."

As Michael threw his arms around him for a hug, Francisco said, "We have to
love each other again."  Then looking at Jeff and drawing him into the hug,
he said, "I love you both, if it is possible to love two people equally.
You are both beautiful guys.  I will send you a postcard from New York!"

Since it was getting late, Michael and Jeff skipped the hoped for tour of
the Alamo, and started right out for the ranch.  "Wow!" said Jeff.  "What a
night!  I can see why you went crazy for him.  What a body!  And there are
few people on this Earth who have a face as gorgeous as his."

"How did you like that fuck that he gave you, Jeff?" asked Michael with a
smile.

"Indescribable!  You know, dad, I feel a little guilty today.  I can't wait
to get back and see Paul.  I think maybe I should not have left him there."

Michael said, "Jeff, he urged you to go.  He knew this would probably
happen, and he urged you to go.  I don't think he would have been happy
about it if it were just you.  But as long as it was you and I together,
he's okay with that."

"I know, dad.  But all the same.  You know that if I hadn't had so much fun
last night, I wouldn't have felt so bad about leaving him behind."

As they pulled into the yard behind the house, Paul was sitting at the
kitchen table looking out the window for them.  When he saw them, he got up
and ran outside to greet them, with Tony following behind.  Jeff jumped out
of the car and hugged and kissed Paul as though they hadn't seen each other
in a year.

Tony said, "I'm sure glad you're back.  I didn't know if I could take much
more of Paul.  He sat around gloomy the whole time you were gone."

"Tony, don't lie," said Paul.  "I wasn't gloomy."  Then holding tightly
onto Jeff, he said, "But I really missed you."

Jeff said, "I was gone only about a day.  Listen, Paul, let's go on in and
get some coffee and sit out on the front verandah.  I'll tell you all about
it.  Do you think you can handle it?"  They laughed and went into the house
with their arms around each other's waist.

Tony turned to Michael and said, "I don't know what you guys did up there,
but what I've heard about Francisco, I'll bet it was hot.  You don't think
that Jeff will admit everything to Paul, do you?"

"I know Jeff better than you, Tony," said Michael.  "You can count on Jeff
telling Paul everything.  And Paul's a big boy now.  He's strong.  He'll
take what Jeff tells him just fine."


The day for Jared's parole hearing had finally arrived.  Michael was
worried about the outcome, but was determined to do his best at the hearing
to talk the parole board into keeping Jared in prison.  He insisted that
Jeff and Paul drive up there with him, for moral support if for no other
reason.  When they arrived, they were ushered into a small waiting room in
which were also several guards, the prison personnel director, and some
individual witnesses who had been involved in the club for fathers and sons
that Jared had organized.  Soon the Warden walked in and introduced
himself.  He explained to the group what the proceedings would be once they
were led into the hearing room.  Jared was already there and had been
undergoing questioning by the board.

One by one, the guards who were on duty on Jared's cellblock were called in
to give testimony, followed by the others, one by one.  Michael was the
last to be called.  Jeff and Paul were not allowed in the room and were
told to wait there.

After all of the other witnesses had finished, Michael took his seat at a
small table facing the seven members of the board.  Jared sat at another
table, accompanied by two guards.  Throughout his testimony, Michael tried
to impress the board of Jared's evil and twisted personality that had
caused so much senseless grief for the family.  He insisted that Jared was
a born liar, who could never change no matter how much prison time he was
given.

After speaking with the board for twenty or twenty-five minutes and
answering the few questions they had, the chairman of the board said to
Michael.  "This hearing is about whether or not Jared Walker is fit to go
back into society.  We are not making our judgment on the basis of the
heinousness of his past misdeeds.  He was already tried for one of them and
he was convicted.  Our purpose today is to determine his suitability for
re-entry into society, not to try him on such things as burning down a barn
or having someone committed to foster care.  I hope you understand that,
Mr. Walker."

"Yes sir, I do," replied Michael.

"Good.  We will confer and arrive at our decision.  If you care to, since
you are a relative of the prisoner, you may wait in the anti-room.  It
shouldn't be long."

When Michael returned and sat back down with Jeff and Paul, he said, "I
don't think I did very well.  It looks as though he's going to be paroled.
The Chairman gave me a rather stern talking to about my testimony and how
irrelevant it all was.  Anyway, I did my best."

Jeff got up and went over to the instant coffee machine and brought back a
cup for each of them.  Paul said, "Ugh! If this is an example of prison
fare, I'll make a special point never to get caught and go to prison!"

After about an hour, the Warden emerged from the hearing room and went up
to Michael.  "Mr. Walker, the Board has denied your brother's parole.  In
his case, he will be eligible to re-apply for parole in five years.  I'm
always sorry to see prisoners whose parole has been denied, but I know that
you are relieved.  If you have any other questions or concerns, you are
welcome to get in touch with me."

Jared was led back to his the cellblock.  As he heard the steel gates of
his cell close behind him and the guard's footsteps on the steel decking
slowly fade away, he sunk to his knees next to his cot.  How could this
have happened?  How could his brother, Michael, hate him so much?  Now he
knew he would never see Clayton again.  Five more years.  He knelt there,
feeling nothing, as though there was no life left in him.  He slowly pulled
the sheet from his bed and, without hardly thinking, he began to tear it
into strips.  His mind was virtually blank.  There were no thoughts.  There
were no hopes left.  There was no life left.  Tying several cloth strips
together, he climbed onto the wooden chair in his cell and tied one end to
the large water pipe that ran overhead.  Still standing on the chair, he
tied the other end securely around his neck.  He had no tears, no thoughts,
no hope.  Then kicking the chair out from under him, everything went dark.


This was the 50th chapter of "My Father, My Son," a milestone of sorts.
With your encouragement, perhaps the Walker gang can manage to go for
another 50.  Sorry I have not been able to respond to most of your e-mails
recently.  Other obligations have been piling up, and it seems I just
barely have enough privacy time to keep the story going.  I will try to do
better in the future.

Write to:
Tom Borden,   tombor99@yahoo.com