This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu

Chapter 9 (Fri., Dec. 9, 1966)

I woke somewhere about five in the morning next to Lon with a tight, full bladder and a slight hangover. And since there were only us guys around, I thought going off to the bathroom naked would be alright rather than stumbling around in the dark to find my boxers.

I crept into the hallway and quietly closed the bedroom door. It was still mostly dark outside, and I assumed that someone had left the light on in the bathroom and the door ajar as a nightlight, as they sometimes did. That was, until I heard his quiet sobs. Bat was standing slouched, supporting himself on the washbasin, looking at his reflection in the mirror with rivulets, running over his high, handsomely chiseled cheeks.

He startled when he saw me and started to say something, but I put my finger to his lips and softly shushed. "I have to pee," I whispered very softly. "then we'll talk." He nodded. I couldn't help noticing that he was watching me piss. And, true to form, my dick started to inflate before I could shake off the last drops. I dabbed the tip with a piece of toilet tissue and returned the skin to its normal position.

When I flushed, he took my hand and led me to his huge bedroom at the other end of the house, with a big bay window overlooking Avenue T at the side of the property. For the first time, I realized that the master bedroom didn't have its own bath as I had expected it would. But, then again, I'd never been in Lon's parents' room, and houses built before the First World War, I reckoned, hadn't required such features, even for the wealthy. I turned my attention to Bat and shut the door softly. "How can I help?"

"I called Shai after you guys went to bed." He wiped his wet eyes, although he was no longer sobbing. "And he said that he didn't want to move in here, since what's-her-ass moved out."

"Did he give a reason?" I sat down on his king-sized bed and pulled him down.

"He gave me the same old bullshit line that we have to keep up appearances, because of his job." Bat gave out one single sob, as if he'd hiccupped, then he tried to smile at me. "You don't know what a precedence you set. I really admire you, Ben."

At first, I didn't know what to say. But I felt I had to say something; the short silence was getting embarrassing. "I'm not too sure how wise it was telling my mother what I did."

"I think it was the most mature thing, anyone could do." He laid back with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His huge arms were bulging, exposing the armpits, which I have always wanted to lick since I can remember. "You made several statements at once. You told your busybody mother where to get off."

I must have looked perplexed because he qualified that with the fact that he'd known her for more than a quarter of a century and, therefore, knew what he was talking about. I nodded that I could accept that.

"And since she was prying," Bat rolled onto his side to face me with his head propped on his massive left hand. "you told her a truth that she didn't want to hear. You have proven yourself to be more mature than the rest of us." His eyes started watering again. "You're one helluva lot more mature than Shai, and he's old enough to be your dad."

The door opened a crack and Lon stuck his head in. "Here you are."

"Yeah, we're talking." I reached out my hand, and Lon came in the room frowning a little. "And no, not about you." I added making Bat chuckle and Lon look sheepish.

"What about, then?" Lon tried for a grin, but it didn't quite get there. He sat down behind me on the bed.

I spoke over my shoulder, but I was looking at Bat. "Your dad thinks that his boyfriend is a fuddy-duddy." And before I could get 'duddy' out, he'd grabbed me, almost knocking his son off the bed, and put me into a headlock.

"I'll fucking show you 'fuddy-duddy'!" He growled, forcing my nose and mouth into his armpit. Two days ago this would have scared the shit out of me, and now, it was causing my dick to go instantly hard. "You give?"

"I'll give you anything." His armpit was covering my mouth, so he couldn't understand me. He pulled off enough for me to repeat myself. "Hell yeah, I give." I grinned. "I'd give you anything you want."

One weighty, life-changing decision was being made in a split second. Lon started removing his boxers, and, hesitating just a little, his dad followed suit. For my part, I was going to fulfill a childhood dream; I was about to lick Lon's dad's crotch and pits.

I pushed him onto his back to get between his legs, while his son cuddled him. The first moan he let out was when my tongue got to the base of his balls, flicking its way down to his asshole. Tongue in ass got an expletive. Letting my tongue lick back up across his balls and length of cock, got a sharp intake of breath. And sucking his cock into my mouth, retracting his skin with my lips and swirling my tongue round and around his glans resulted in the gnashing of teeth.

I spotted and reached for the jar of petroleum jelly on the night stand to let us crank this whole experience up a notch or two. Lon's dad gave me a look of worried anticipation, as I coated his totally engorged cock with goo. Apparently, this was not part of the repertoire he and Shai practiced. His expression turned to incredulity, when I inserted him into me.

From what I knew from Lon, since he'd tried both, my ass was a lot tighter and consequently hotter than any girl's pussy. And the techniques of muscle control, I'd learned in France, made me able to literally milk a cock like a dairy farmer's hand did his cow's teat. Again, the two Moroccans came to mind.

With him and me finding our rhythm, I dove for the coveted armpits. The man didn't use deodorant or aftershave but shaved his underarms and crotch, so it was all natural without the heady flavor of added fur. When I moved my mouth up to his, there was a reluctance; he was thinking something over. So, I traced his jaw line with my tongue, letting him work it out, and returned for a kiss. This time, he went for it, tongue and all.

Lon moved up with his dick at our mouths. Bat looked at it big-eyed, almost in panic. I knew this reaction. I'd reacted the very same way back in my sophomore year of high school, when Lon, the eighth-grader, wanted me to suck this very same cock.

Bat shook his head frantically. His eyes were those of a spooked horse, and he had to be broken just the same. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, and glared at him. "Do it! Now, Fucker!" and pulled him closer to the feared cock. He whimpered, just like I once had. Taking it slowly, at first sniffing, letting his tongue reach out tentatively; his lips followed. Then his shift in desire became visible, his longing audible. As I watched, and as I could easily predict, he was becoming addicted to both the taste and smell of another man's essence, and sucked as if there were no tomorrow.

I let go of his hair, so I could stabilize myself astride Bat's snare-drum tight abdomen and rock-hard hips, riding his ample, angry cock. I slowed so I could get up onto the soles of my feet, causing me to squat rather than straddle, pushing his cock further in, so I could lift my weight with my thighs. Now, was where I started bouncing hard and fast, slapping my ass against his pubic mound, filling my ass with his rod and working us both toward frenzy.

I was the first to cum, my anal muscles clamping vice-like around Bat, who couldn't hold it any longer. His vocalized moaning while still sucking on Lon, brought Lon in third.

At first, Bat started to gag and heave, but then got it under control and swallowed as fast as he could, but, of course, couldn't get it all down, so I helped, ending up in a frantic tongue duel but letting ourselves come down off our high by sensually licking cum off one another's face.

Mellow was an inadequate description of how we felt for a long while. Then, as predictable as income tax in April, the melancholia of bad conscience took over. But I was prepared.

Bat started with: "That was so wrong for so many reasons."

"Name one." I snuggled back into his armpit.

"I sucked my own son off." His intonation was that of repulsion. The undercurrent of how he said it revealed that he would be willing to do it again.

"You've been hanging around your Jewish and Christian neighbors, too much." I let my tongue snake out and tickle his right nipple. And he made no effort to move. "Buddhism doesn't weigh in on the issue of sex, other than frowning on sexual misconduct, such as using violence, manipulation or deceit."

"Are you sure?" Bat brought me and Lon into an even stronger hug.

"Yeah," I snuggled in closer to Lon. "that's why I can't understand my mom's reaction. She's acting like Oral Robert's little sister." Although on second thought, it was probably more disappointment than any moral aspect.

Bat readjusted himself on the bed and fiddled with my ass, which was filled with his cum. "But aren't you afraid that all this is going to make you a faggot?"

My laugh turned serious. After all, my best friend's dad was basically asking me to tell him that what we'd done was alright. "Sucking cock doesn't make you a faggot, Bat; being afraid of what you are and letting people push you around because of it, does, though."

Bat thought about this a while, rubbing Lon's and my back. "Okay," He cleared his throat and whispered a bit too forced, obviously plucking up courage. "Would the two of you promise me something?" We nodded looking up at him. "Promise to teach me what else you guys know about this."

"Sure, Dad." Lon purred and placed his head back onto his father's chest. My response was, I guessed, more to Bat's liking: "You got it, Bud."