My Father, My Son
(Revised)
by: Tom Borden

© 2000-2008 by the author

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

When they got home, Brian and Josiah did something they had not done for a long time. They stood in their bedroom and very slowly undressed each other, kissing and licking and massaging each other's emerging nudity as they went. Falling into bed, they had no sex, but simply pressed their naked bodies close together in an unbreakable embrace and professed their love for each other over and over again. They had each learned something that day, and right now the most important thing was to hold on to each other very tightly.

 

Chapter 31 

 

Michael and Karl had spent almost the entire weekend inventorying all of the feed and grain in storage on the ranch, as well as equipment and machinery. Since the terrorists' attacks in New York and Washington in the fall, the price of Milo Maize had dropped, and the market for it had become drastically reduced. Ranch workers were at the moment busily harvesting the Maize, but storage space was limited, and it became a grave concern as to how to market it. On Monday morning, Karl left for San Antonio, after which he would travel to Fort Worth and Kansas City to talk to feed dealers about the problem.

Michael stayed behind to work on the inventory and to calculate the losses that were expected. The news was discouraging. By late afternoon, Maggie came into Michael's small office that adjoined his bedroom.

"Michael," said Maggie, "as you know, Rhapsody and I spent a day this weekend down at Reynosa, Mexico, and I picked up several bottles of that great Mexican tequila. Today, I shopped in Goliad and brought home some limes and orange liqueur. You've been working so hard today, and I know you've got some worries over the way things are going. Why don't you just give it up for a little while and go on out there on the front veranda. It's going to be a lovely evening . . . cool and fresh . . . and there's a beautiful sunset beginning. I've made a big pitcher of margaritas. Go on, Michael. I worry about you."

"Oh, Maggie," said Michael, leaning back in his chair. "Who's going to worry about me like you always have after you've left us?"

Maggie walked over to Michael and knelt down beside his chair, and taking his hand, said, "Michael, I love you, and there's no one . . . except maybe Jeff . . . who I will miss more than you when I leave. I would have given the world if I could have managed to have had you for my own . . . my dear, dear Michael. But Karl loves you, too. And no one could love you more than he does."

"I know that Karl loves me," said Michael, "but there are so many who also love Karl. I keep thinking that what Karl and I have is so tenuous, so fragile. You know, Karl was once very easily tempted by others. I worry that it could likely happen again, especially every time he goes out of town."

As Maggie rose to her feet, she said, "Just you make sure, Michael, that you don't get too grasping, too jealous or insufferably possessive. There will be nothing that will drive a guy away quicker than that, and you know it. You know what his weaknesses are, or have been. The best thing you can do is to be tolerant to the best of your ability. So what! He gets a blow job from some trucker at a truck stop, or whatever, once in a while. He's still yours, and he knows his heart belongs to you, and that your heart belongs to him. Lighten up, Michael. If you don't, you might very well be the cause of his breaking away from you someday."

Standing up and hugging Maggie, Michael said, "I'm gonna miss you Maggie. You're like the best mom and dad anyone could have, all rolled up in one."

"I'm not old enough to be your mom, Michael! And unless you take that remark back, You're not getting a margarita!"

"I take it back, Maggie, but I'm still gonna miss you."

Michael folded up the papers he was working on and put them away. Getting out of his clothes, he showered and donned a large heavy floor-length, light blue terry-cloth robe. When he arrived on the verandah, Maggie had already placed the pitcher of margaritas on the table, along with several glasses.

Maggie sat down with him and filled two glasses to the brim. "Come on, Michael," said Maggie, holding up her glass. "Here's to Karl's success with his dealings with the feed dealers!"

Finishing his margarita, Maggie got up and said, "Michael, I'm going to leave you alone now so you can relax. Tony and I have dinner to prepare. Ta ta!"

Karl had only been gone for less than a day. But Michael missed him already. They often sat and watched the sunset together, and Michael would always feel reassured when Karl would reach over and hold his hand and look at him with such love in his eyes. He knew that Karl might very well bow to temptation when he was away from the ranch. But Maggie was right, he thought. The important thing was for Karl to come home and reaffirm his love for Michael.

As Michael stared dreamily out over the rangeland, Clayton stepped out on the veranda.

"Uncle Michael, can I talk with you?"

"Of course. You can talk with me anytime you wish, Clayton. Here, please sit down and let me fix you one of Maggie's special margaritas."

"Oh, I don't know. I've never had one of those."

"You're old enough to vote, Clayton. You're old enough to have a margarita."

Michael dipped the rim of the cocktail glass into the dish of salt that Maggie had provided, and filled it.

"Uncle Michael . . ." began Clayton.

"Please Clayton," interrupted Michael. "Just call me Michael. I'm not just your uncle, I'd like to be your surrogate father, if you'd let me."

"Michael, I want you to know how much I really appreciate your letting me visit you here. I like everyone here. Everyone's been so nice. I think it's the first time in my life that I've ever laughed or smiled. While I was shaving the other morning, I started thinking about what a wonderful time I had last week with Maggie and Tony when we rode out for a picnic together. I looked in the mirror, and I think it was the first time in my life I ever saw myself smile. I didn't recognize myself."

"You have a beautiful smile, Clayton. You should smile more often."

"I want to smile more. I want to laugh more. But, Michael, I'm not sure where to go now. I don't want to go back and live with my mother. I hate all her boyfriends, and I'm afraid of most of them, except just one. One of them one night came into my room and leaned over my bed and kissed me goodnight. I remember I lay awake all night after that. No one had ever kissed me. I thought I would give anything if my mom or my dad had just once kissed me and told me they loved me. I just . . . ."

"Wait a minute, Clayton," interrupted Michael. "What do you mean, you're not sure where to go now. You're not going anywhere, Clayton. This is your home now. I'm your kin. I'm the only kin you've got, Clayton." Putting his hand on Clayton's arm, Michael leaned in close to him and said, "I want you to stay here. You're part of our family, Clayton. I love you like my own son. What gave you the idea that we expected you to leave here. Was it all the hard work that we've been expecting you to do?

"Oh, no, Michael. I'm happier here . . . with everything and everybody here . . . than I've ever been in my life. I've been dreading the day when I would have to leave."

Standing up suddenly, Michael realized the several margaritas he had put away were having their devilish affect on his equilibrium. Putting his arm around Clayton's shoulder, Michael said, "That day will never come, my dear boy. This is your home forever."

Clayton leaned his head back against Michael's chest and covered his face with his hands. As Michael held onto Clayton's shoulders, he could feel that the boy was crying softly. Clayton remained seated with Michael holding on to his shoulders for many minutes. Finally, Clayton put his hands down and turned and looked up into Michael's face.

With a faint smile, Clayton said, "I love you, Michael. I love you so much. This is the first time I ever told anyone I love him. And it makes me feel so warm inside to say it."

"Oh, Clayton, my dear, dear boy. I love you, too." Then waving his hand toward the half empty pitcher of margaritas, Michael said, "I think you and I need to say "Adios" to the tequila for now. Go on and get washed up for dinner. I want you to eat here with me tonight, instead of out in the bunk house. Okay?"

With the broadest smile Michael had ever seen, Clayton shouted, "Okay!" Michael stood watching with a mixture of admiration and desire as Clayton fairly skipped into the house and down the hall to the bathroom.

Maggie, who was still determined to see that Tony and Clayton "find each other," so to speak, talked to Tony as they were preparing dinner.

"Tony, don't you think that Clayton is nice and that we had a really good time on the picnic last week?"

"Yeah," Tony said with no emotion in his voice, "I think he's nice, and yeah, we had a really good time on the picnic."

"Well . . . uh . . . Tony, do you like Clayton?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in my opinion, you do a lot more than just like Clayton."

"Hey," snapped Tony. "You're an old busy-body. Mind your own business."

"You mean, Tony, you don't want to tell me that . . ."

"That's right! I don't want to tell you. It's none of your business."

"Well, I am a busy-body, and what goes on with all you guys IS my business."

"Well, not for long," muttered Tony under his breath.

Maggie and Tony continued fixing dinner in silence. Michael had asked Maggie to serve his and Clayton's dinner out there on the west verandah where they had been talking earlier. Since it was getting a bit chilly, Maggie turned on the two electric heaters that hung over the verandah.

Michael had also noticed from afar that Clayton and Tony frequently talked privately . . . not normally out of sight . . . but usually when no one was within earshot.

"Clayton, I've decided to have you move into the house. After all, you are a member of the family. I'm going to have the room that Mr. Kesselring lived in before he died fixed up and furnished for you."

"Michael, I don't know what to say," said Clayton.

"You don't have to say anything, Clayton. It's only right that you be part of this family in every way. You say, Clayton, that you like the people here on the ranch a lot. Which ones have you made the best friends with or, rather, who do you like the most among the guys who work here?"

A little smile came over Clayton's face as he said, "Well, besides you, Michael, I really like Tony. He's kind of like me. I mean, his life hasn't really been any better than mine. We kind of have that in common. When we were on that picnic with Maggie, he told us all about his life. And I felt kind of sorry for him."

"Did he feel the same way for you when you told about your life?" asked Michael.

"I think so. We sort of hugged each other like we were feeling sorry for each other. Michael, he's just so nice. I like him a lot."

Michael didn't mention it, but he would have liked to offer to let Clayton and Tony spend a couple of days and nights together out at his little house in the Cottonwoods. He believed they needed to be alone like that to really come to terms with their feelings for each other. But the time was not rightónot yet. The time, though, would come eventually.

Later that evening, after Michael had gone to bed, he lay there wide awake in the dim soft light coming in through his window cast by a full moon. He missed the feel of Karl's body next to him and the sound of Karl's breathing. But at the same time, his mind kept dancing back to Clayton, and Clayton's joy at learning that he was now indeed considered a permanent part of the Walker family. He thought about the sadness in the boy's face, and the sweetness of his smile that followed. He thought about how much Clayton longed for someone to love and for someone to love him.

Michael then could see in the moonlight his door slowly opening. Clayton's face appeared in the opening.

"Michael, are you awake?" Clayton said softly.

"Yes, I am. Is that you, Clayton?"

Clayton entered the room. "Michael, I couldn't go to sleep. Would you let me lie with you for a little while?"

Michael could hardly believe his ears. "Of course, son. I'll scoot over so you can get under the covers. I warn you, though, I don't have any clothes on. I always sleep naked. It doesn't matter how cold it is, I just turn up my electric blanket."

"I don't care, Michael," said Clayton. "Ever since you were so nice to me this evening when we talked, I wanted to be close to you."

"Take off your boots before you get in, Clayton. And take off anything else you want to make yourself comfortable." Michael felt the blood rushing to his head. He felt as though he were in a dream.

Before getting into bed next to Michael, Clayton took off his boots, but left on his shirt and jeans. They lay there beside each other, their bodies touching, neither seeming to know just what to do next.

Finally, Michael said, "Clayton, I'm glad you came in. And I'm glad you want to lie with me tonight. Yes, we did have a nice talk, didn't we." Then after a few moments, Michael said, "Would you like me to hug you, Clayton?"

Clayton's answer was to roll over and press his body against Michael's and put his arms around him. "I love you, Dad . . . I mean Michael. Do you love me? Please love me, Michael."

Michael pressed his naked body as close as he could to Clayton and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course I love you, Clayton. And if you want to call me 'Dad,' you can. I would love it if you did."

Clayton turned his head and kissed Michael very gently on the cheek, on the nose, the eyes, the forehead, and then on the lips. Michael instinctively brought his tongue out and ran it lightly over Clayton's lips. Clayton opened his mouth very slightly to allow Michael's tongue to enter. They were soon kissing deeply and frantically exploring each other's mouth.

Michael finally said, "Clayton, wouldn't you be more comfortable by taking that heavy shirt off, and maybe those pants?"

Clayton whispered softly, "Would you mind if I took them off? Do you think we should both be naked like that?"

"Well, Clayton, you're making me feel self-conscious and embarrassed being naked while you're fully dressed."

"Well, okay, if you think I should," said Clayton as he got out of bed and started removing his shirt and pants. Michael lay there watching Clayton's emerging nudity. He was struck by how much Clayton's body resembled his brother Jared's body when they were teenagers. Clayton looked so much like his father. He had the same sized penis with the slight curve to the left, and the same very low slung ball sack. The light sprinkling of sandy colored hair that covered Clayton's slender, but shapely legs was exactly the same as Jared's. Even the shape of his nipples and the exotic hair pattern on his chest that seemed to grow in gentle swirls around his well shaped pectoral muscles.

Michael said, "Clayton, your body is exactly the same as your father's when he was your age."

Clayton smiled, and as he climbed back in bed, said, "It is? Did you see him naked very often?"

"Why, sure. We were brothers. For a long time, we shared the same bedroom."

"Did you ever lie with him in the same bed?" asked Clayton.

"Sure. When we were very young, we used to lie together and masturbate together."

Clayton's eyes grew wide. "You did? Really? You masturbated together? I always thought a guy masturbated alone. I didn't think guys did it together. Wow!"

"Clayton, guys do a lot of things together. Sometimes it's a lot more fun like that. Do you ever masturbate?"

"Oh, yeah. I've done it almost every night for years. But I never knew you could do it with another guy."

"A lot of guys do it together, Clayton. Would you like to do it with me?"

"Wow! Do you masturbate, too? Yeah, that would be fun to do it with you, Michael. It will almost be like doing it with my dad. Did you say my dad masturbated, too, when he was my age?"

"Of course he did. All boys and men masturbate. I'm sure you dad still masturbates in his cell in prison."

The room was warm enough now that Michael threw back the electric blanket. They lay there on their sides facing each other with their gorged penises pressing against each other. Michael was getting so hot, he couldn't resist running his hands over Clayton's body. And slowly, Clayton began to do the same. Soon, they were both rolling around the bed, neither one able to get enough of feeling and kissing every inch of each other's body. It was inevitable, that Michael's tongue would find Clayton's ass crack and would at last taste the puckered asshole itself. Clayton moaned. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. Quickly changing positions, Clayton tried the same thing on Michael, but this time Michael purposely relaxed his asshole muscles enough to allow Clayton's tongue to enter Michael's rectum.

Clayton became almost wild, feverishly unable to get enough of Michael's body. Michael knew this was a new experience for Clayton, who was obviously experiencing a joyous release of his latent homosexuality. Clayton eventually lay back and said he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Michael, I need to cum." Gasped Clayton. "I need to jerk off now. My balls are aching."

Michael immediately rolled over and removed Clayton's hand, and started jacking him off with his own hand.

"Michael," exclaimed Clayton, "I've never had anyone jack me off. Don't I have to do it myself?"

"Of course not, Clayton. Sometimes the feeling when you shoot is even better when someone else is jerking you off."

"Ohhhhhhhh!" Clayton could feel almost all of his insides begin to tighten up. "Oh, God, I'm going to shoot!"

Suddenly, the whole middle part of his body began to cramp uncontrollably. The muscle spasms became so intense, they actually hurt. Four of five great geysers of thick white sperm spewed into the air landing in thick globs on Michael's arm, as well as all over Clayton's chest. Michael continued to hold on to Clayton's penis as it began to deflate.

After a few minutes, Clayton, still a little out of breath, said, "I want to jack you off now and watch you shoot your sperm. I've never seen another guy shoot before."

Michael rolled over on his back, and Clayton took hold of Michael's hard rod and started stroking. It was after no more than eight or ten strokes when Michael began bucking his hips slightly. He closed his eyes and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Without warning, Clayton could feel the veins that ribbed Michael's hard penis become hard and gorged, and could feel the surges of sperm as it shot up the shaft and out onto Michael's stomach. Michael roared like a lion with each volley of sperm.

Clayton was absolutely overcome with sexual excitement from all that he was experiencing that night. He had never touched, let along licked and kissed, another man's naked skin. The sensation was almost more than he could take. As they lay next to each other on the bed, Clayton thought about how he had believed that nothing in the world could match a good jack-off orgasm. But now the smell and taste of another man's skin was almost beyond any orgasm he ever had. To feel Michael's tongue on his own, to touch all of the corners of Michael's mouth with his tongue was more than he could describe. And to have his tongue lashing away down in the dark, private, forbidden areas of another man's crotch was a sensation he would never forget.

While staring at the ceiling, Clayton said, "What you have given me tonight, I never dreamed existed. I never dreamed that I could ever feel such passion, such excruciatingly overwhelming sexual frenzy."

Michael had his own thoughts. Now that he had had his orgasm, the reality of what he had just done seized him. He thought, 'My God! I should have said no. What am I going to tell Karl. Maybe he'll never find out. No, I've got to tell him. Oh, shit! Sex with this gorgeous boy was so wonderful. But now I just feel terrible about what I have done to Karl.'

Michael finally sat up and said, "Clayton, I'm glad this was so good for you. I'm glad that I was the one to bring this joy to you. I hope you understand, though, that it might not be too good for you to be found in my room in the morning. It probably would be best if you went back to your room for the rest of the night. And I'll see you at breakfast."

"I understand, Michael," said Clayton as he started to get dressed. "I'll never forget this night. Ever! I love you very much Michael. And I can never thank you enough for letting me stay and letting this be my home. I'm so happy."

Before Clayton left, they stood and hugged each other and kissed deeply and passionately. Then Michael said, "Welcome home, my dear boy. My dear son, Clayton."

After Clayton left, Michael threw himself on the bed. He thought, 'That boy is so sweet, so loveable. But goddamn it! What am I going to do. I've always promised Karl I would never do this. And I've always meant it. And I never have done it. Oh, God. What the fuck am I going to do. Karl, oh, my dearest Karl. What am I going to do?'

For the next ten minutes, Michael thought about what had happened. But he decided he had to call Karl and tell him what happened right away. It was about two a.m., but he would just have to wake Karl up and admit everything to him. Karl was staying at the Menger Hotel in San Antonio that night. Michael reached for the phone on the bed table and dialed the number and asked for Karl's room.

Karl answered with a rather sleepy sounding voice. "Hello."

"Oh, Karl. It's Michael."

"Oh . . . uh . . . Hi, Michael."

"I'm sorry, Karl, if I woke you up. Were you asleep?"

"Uh . . . no . . . I mean . . . uh . . . no. What's the matter? Why are you calling?"

"Nothing's really the matter, Karl. I just had to talk to you."

"Uh . . . Michael . . . can't it wait till morning, huh?

"Well, no. I . . ."

"I can't really talk right now, Michael."

Just then Michael heard another male voice say, "What's the matter Karl? Who is that?"

Of course, Michael knew immediately what was happening in San Antonio. "Karl, I'm really sorry I called so late. I'll talk to you when you get back. It really wasn't anything important."

"Okay, Michael. Talk to you later. Goodbye."

Michael hung up the phone and sat on the side of the bed. He had no feeling whatever. He wasn't angry, he wasn't sad, nor was he glad. He was perfectly numb. He told himself that if he had not given in to his lust and had sex with Clayton, he would never have called Karl and would never have known that Karl had someone else in his bed. Michael was never a religious man. But, somehow, it seemed to him that, since he had sinned, he was very quickly punished when he made that phone call. If he had not sinned, he would never have known that Karl was also sinning. It was all part of the grand game called human folly. Nothing is ever what it seems. Everyone plays a game. And "deception" is the name of the game in which everyone wins and everyone loses.

Michael lay back on the bed and stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. There seemed to be no thoughts in his head. He just stared. He began to feel a kind of loathing for himself, but he felt nothing when he thought about Karl, other than the simple fact that Karl was no longer his and probably never had been. And it didn't matter. He deserved to lose Karl. Still staring at the ceiling, the thought came to him that everything is coming out the way fate had all along intended it. The love that he and Karl had for each other was only a dream. It never existed. It was like a play with two fictional characters, and the play was now over so the actors can go their separate ways. Michael felt a strange calmness come over him as he watched the ceiling begin to take on an orange glow. Turning his head, he watched the first rays of the sunrise reflected on the trees beyond his window.

Maggie had the kitchen table set for breakfast for Michael and Clayton. It was to be orange juice, oatmeal, and pancakes with Maggie's own blueberry syrup. Both Michael and Clayton were subdued as they ate. They were both still very tired. Michael had not gone to sleep at all, and Clayton had gone back to the bunkhouse. He never went in, but sat on the step outside his room, just looking at the moon. He had fallen asleep there, but awoke at the sound of the dinner bell being sounded for breakfast.

Maggie finally said, "I think you and I need to have a talk, Michael."

"No, we don't need to talk, Maggie," said Michael holding up his hand. "I know what you want to say, and I've already said it to myself a thousand times."

Maggie sat tight-lipped, staring sternly at Michael. "Alright, Michael."

Clayton looked curiously at both Michael and Maggie, who both had a look on their faces that told him they didn't want to talk about it.

Michael said, "Maggie, I've decided I'm going up to Austin to visit with Jeff for a couple of days. I just need some time away from here."

"That might just be a very good idea," said Maggie coldly.

While Michael was getting dressed in his room and packing a few things to take with him, Clayton came in.

"Michael, are you alright? You seem kind of distant this morning. Are you upset about last night? Did I do something wrong?"

Michael sat down on the bed and motioned to Clayton. "Clayton, come over here and sit down. There was nothing you did, Clayton. You are a wonderful young man, and I love you as my son. I always will. But there are things about my life here that you need to know. We both did what we did last night out of passion and love for each other. And I'm glad that we did it. It brought us even closer together. When I get back from visiting my son, Jeff, in Austin, we'll sit down and I'll explain everything. But now I have to leave for a few days."

Michael turned and held Clayton's head between his hands and kissed him lightly on the cheek. A look of sadness swept over Clayton's face.

"Please, Clayton," whispered Michael. "Put that dear sweet smile back on your face. Everything's going to be okay. Can I see you smile? Huh?"

Clayton threw his arms around Michael. "I'll be sitting here waiting for you, Michael. I love you."

After watching Michael drive away, Maggie called to Clayton, who was out in the yard preparing to start his chores. "Clayton, come on in for a minute. I want to talk to you."

Maggie put on a jacket and brought the coffee pot out on the front verandah where the two could talk privately.

"Clayton, I need to talk with you about what you and Michael did last night."

"Do you know about that?"

"Clayton, Maggie knows everything that goes on around this place. You haven't lived here long enough to find that out. I'm not sure whether or not you've noticed, or that anyone has told you, but Michael and Karl are together . . . I mean . . . they're together."

Clayton said, "I know. They own the ranch together."

"That's right, Clayton. But they also live together. Actually, they sleep together, Clayton."

Clayton looked puzzled. "And Michael and I slept together, too. You know that."

"But, Clayton, I don't think you understand. To be perfectly blunt, Michael and Karl love each other."

"Michael and I love each other, too," said Clayton.

Maggie realized that Clayton was naÔve beyond words in the matter of love and commitment. "Clayton, Michael and Karl are lovers. I know, Clayton, you and Michael were lovers just for that one night. But Michael and Karl have promised each other that they would love and sleep with no one else but each other. They made a promise to each other. That is called commitment. Michael broke that promise when he had you in his bed last night."

Clayton understood. "Maggie, does that mean that Michael doesn't really love me?"

"No, no. Of course, he loves you. I know he loves you very much. But he also loves Karl, with whom he long ago made a commitment. They both promised each other that only they would share each other's bed, and it would be only each other with whom they would have sex."

Clayton stared out over the rangeland for a long time. Finally he said, "I was the one who forced myself on him. And I was the one who pleaded with him to let me lie with him in his bed. But it was really Karl's bed, too, wasn't it, and no one else's. I feel so foolish. He must have thought I was so bad. He didn't take me to bed. I was the one who did it all."

Maggie took hold of Clayton's arm. "Clayton, no one is trying to blame anyone for this. These things just happen. But you obviously didn't know about Michael and Karl. And you need to know."

Clayton said, "I'm sure that's what Michael told me in his room this morning that he was going to talk to me about when he came back from Austin. I am so embarrassed. He must have thought I was so terrible doing what I did. I don't know if I can face him. Last night was like a dream, Maggie. Nothing like that has happened to me before. But he wasn't in love with me at all like I thought he was. I never threw myself at anyone before like I did with him. He was really in love with Karl. My God, he must hate me."

"Clayton, he doesn't hate you. Now go on out and get busy with your chores and get your mind off of this. Everything will be fine.

Michael arrived in Austin unannounced, going directly to Paul's office.

"Paul, things have been pretty hectic down at the ranch, and I just felt I needed a couple of days away from there. And I couldn't think of anything better to do than to come up and visit you and Jeff. I hope I'm not catching you two at a bad time."

Paul put his arm around Michael's shoulder and kissed him on the lips. "Not at all! My God, Michael, you're welcome anytime. Jeff and I talk about you all the time and reminisce about our good times with you back on the ranch. We both miss you. I hope you'll be able to stay with us more than one night. Where's Karl? Did he come with you?"

"No, he's off and about on a business trip. And, yes, I'll probably stay a couple of nights."

That evening, Jeff grilled hamburgers out on the small balcony off of their living room. But beforehand, he brought out Michael's favorite scotch and they all had several rounds.

"Dad, we're so glad to see you, as always, but you sort of don't seem yourself. Is something bothering you?"

"Well, Jeff, I have to admit that I came up here on the spur of the moment to be with you and Paul because of something that happened last night. Just to come right out with what it was, I slept with Clayton last night."

Jeff then finished his father's sentence. "and Karl was out of town."

"Yup. All the promises I made, and all the commitment I had toward Karl were not enough to overcome my lust for Clayton. Isn't that great, guys?"

Jeff went over to the sofa and sat next to his dad, putting his arm around Michael's shoulders and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Dad, it was only one night. I can tell it's eating at you. But you need to get past it somehow. You can't let it ruin your relationship with Karl."

Michael laughed sardonically. "Yeah, but that's only half of it. I was feeling so terrible about what I did, I had to call Karl and confess it to him, even though it was two in the morning. He was at the Menger in San Antonio. But my punishment for what I did was waiting for me. He sounded a bit impatient with me, and then I heard the voice of another man asking Karl who was on the phone. With all the guilt that was pressing down on me, I had to learn that Karl was also sleeping with another man."

Michael put his head in his hands. Jeff and Paul looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Paul then jumped up and said, I think those hamburgers are about done. I'll go into the kitchen and bring in the tray of onions, tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and all the other fixin's.

Michael looked into Jeff's eyes. "Jeff, I don't know what to do. Do you think everything is coming to an end between Karl and me? I love him so much. Why do these things have to happen? Why? Why?"

Jeff pulled his father's head down against his own chest. While caressing Michael's cheek, he kissed the back of his neck. "Dad, there's nothing coming to an end between you and Karl. The two of you love each other too much. These rough spots just happen sometimes. You just have to fight yourself through them." Pulling back from his father and looking at his sad eyes, Jeff said, "Remember you always used to tell me when I was little to throw away the sad face and put on my happy face? Huh? If you don't give me a smile, I'm going to cry in a minute. Please."

Michael could see some tears welling up in his son's eyes. "Okay, Jeff. My dear, sweet Jeff, always there for me. See. I'm smiling."

Paul fixed another drink for the three of them, and they all sat out on the small balcony overlooking a busy street while they ate their hamburgers. There were several restaurants and bars at one end of that block across the street, and an old fashioned Texas dance hall at the other end. Country-Western music was already blaring full force from it, signaling that the evening was just beginning for the many young people starting to stream into the place.

Michael said wistfully, "Look at all those handsome young men walking arm in arm down the street with their girlfriends. I wonder if the time will ever come when we could walk down the street with our arms around each other without people being offended and thinking we're sick."

Paul said, "I don't think it'll ever happen in our lifetime. But I don't care. Holding Jeff's hand in public isn't important to me. We're not activists, and we're not trying to make any statement. As long as we have each other and love each other, and as long as I can hold his whole body when we're at home, that's all that matters to me."

Jeff said, "Hey, look at that girl with her skirt up to her crotch and her boobs almost falling out. And look at the guy with her. All he's got on is an open leather vest, showing a lot of skin. And his pants are so tight, I can see his bulge from here."

"Yeah," Paul said. "We know who's gonna get fucked tonight."

Michael said, "He'll probably fuck her right there on the dance floor. He doesn't have to lift that skirt up at all, and her cunt is right there uncovered and he can press himself right into it while they dance."

"Wow, Dad," said Jeff. "You paint a hot picture there. You know all about fucking women. I've never fucked one before."

Paul said, "I fucked a girl once. I was once over at a girl's house and we were working together on a history project in high school. We were in her room after school. All of a sudden, she pulled out of her closet a bottle of Gin that she had stolen from her dad's liquor cabinet. We both had a taste of it. I thought it was terrible, but she kept making me take sips of it. Then she took off all her clothes and told me to take off mine. I was really getting drunk, so I took them all off and she started playing with my dick. It got real hard, and she just laid back and put her legs in the air and told me to fuck her. I had no idea what to do. I had heard that girls had three holes, but I didn't know which one to put my cock into. So I just laid on top of her and she guided it into her pussy. I just instinctively started humping. I didn't know that I was suppose to do that, but I guess it was just animal instinct. I remember I came big time, and she must have also cum, because she started bucking and squealing. I got out of there pretty quick. That was enough female for me.

Michael started laughing. "Well, Jeff. You're the only one of the three of us who has not had the pleasure of fucking a woman's pussy. Maybe we ought to fix him up with one, don't you think, Paul?"

"No way, Dad," snorted Jeff. "I'll stick to a good tight male pucker. I've seen close-up pictures of women's pussies, and they're disgusting. They make me sick to look at them."

It was getting quite cold out on the balcony, and the three came in. Jeff said, "Paul, why don't you show my dad the pictures of the faculty award ceremony where you got that Teacher of the Year Award. I'll go and straighten up the kitchen."

Paul led Michael into the bedroom. When Jeff finished with the dishes, he went in and found his dad and Paul standing in a tight embrace with Paul's hand down inside the back of Michael's pants.

Paul said, "Jeff, I had not forgotten those cute, firm little buns on your dad's ass. All through dinner, I could hardly wait to get my hands on them again. Genetics is a wonderful thing, Michael. Your son, Jeff, inherited his own beautiful ass cheeks from you."

"Your sweet little ass ain't so bad, either, Paul," cooed Michael."

"I don't know about you two," announced Jeff, "but I think it's time for bed. And, Paul, since we have a special guest with us tonight, I think we should let him sleep right in the middle between us. What do you think?"

"Well," said Paul, "I think that since he is a special guest, we should let him sleep wherever he wants."

"Listen, you guys, I'm not going to get caught choosing sides here. I'll just be fine snuggled up between you. Okay?

As Michael stood there, both Jeff and Paul started slowly to divest him of his clothing, article by article. As Paul unbuttoned Michael's shirt, Jeff leaned over and bathed his father's chest lightly with his tongue.

"I haven't taken my shower, yet, boys," said Michael.

"That's okay, Dad, I love the taste of that salty moistness on your chest and around your nipples," said Jeff.

As Jeff reached up and pulled his dad's unbuttoned shirt off, Paul ran his tongue down over the light hair on Michael's arms and up into the his thicket of black armpit hair. As Jeff slowly undid his father's belt and top button, as well as unzip his fly, he ran his tongue down over Michael's stomach, belly button, and into the thick black trail of hair running from there down into Michael's huge bush of pubic hair. As Michael's pants fell to the floor, his hard penis shot up to a forty-five degree angle, with a long elastic string of pre-cum dangling from his pee hole almost to the floor. It waved in the air without dropping off. Paul quickly moved his head down to Michael's boots and took the long string of pre-cum into his mouth. The string finally dropped in its entirety onto Paul's face. Rising to his knees, Paul asked Jeff to lick his face clean.

As both Jeff and Paul each held onto one of Michael's slender tan legs, they ran their tongues over the soft layer of hair that covered them. Jeff always loved to run his hands and tongue over the erotic contour of his father's youthful looking legs.

Michael felt as though he was being driven crazy by the feel of the boys' hands and tongues on his skin. "Oh, my God, you guys are driving me out of my mind!"

Jeff tore his clothes off as fast as he could, pulled the covers back on the bed, and leaped in. Michael jumped in beside him. Then Paul got up and stood in the middle of the bed with his legs straddling Michael's head. He slowly stripped off one item at a time, imitating a stripper. Michael lay there staring up into Paul's crotch. When all his clothes were removed, Paul slowly lowered himself until his crotch was touching Michael's face. Michael stuck out his tongue and was able to tickle the bottom of Paul's ball sack. Feeling his balls being tickled like that was almost unbearable to Paul. He could feel his balls bobbing up and down in reaction. He lowered himself even further until he could feel Michael's tongue swirling over his asshole. It was driving Paul mad to the point where the muscles in his hard penis were contracting wildly, and pre-cum was flowing rapidly out onto Michael's neck and chest.

Paul could stand no more and dropped over on the bed beside Michael.

"I need one of you inside of me," said Michael as he brought his thighs up tight against his chest.

"We'll both get inside of you, dad," said Jeff. "Paul wants to fuck your asshole, and while he's doing that, I want to fuck your mouth. Okay, dad?"

"That sounds great to me, boys. I think I need a good fucking tonight. And please, when you do it, please don't cum too soon. I want to make the feel of you both inside me to last a long time."

As Paul mounted Michael, Jeff brought his head around to get a good close-up view of his penis pushing through his dad's asshole and into his rectum. As Paul began his slow piston motion, Michael enjoyed watching the flexing of Paul's stomach muscles and the muscles in his arms as he supported himself. Jeff got on his knees and straddled his father's chest with his ass cheeks very close to Paul's face. As Jeff inserted his throbbing hard penis into his father's mouth, Paul could easily reach Jeff's round little buns with his tongue. The tickling feeling that Paul's tongue made as it swirled lightly over Jeff's ass cheeks was almost more than Jeff could take. He had to frequently stop pumping his dad's mouth for fear that he would cum too soon. The tickling of his ass was doing it. But it felt too good for him to ask Paul to stop.

In order to make it last for Michael, both Jeff and Paul had to stop pumping frequently in order not to cum. Michael could feel on his lips and tongue that his son's cock was often hardening and then relaxing as Jeff would catch himself just in time. He could feel the same thing with Paul's penis as it pumped his asshole.

After about a half hour of pumping, Jeff finally said, "Dad, I can't take it anymore. I'm about to cum and I can't stop it."

"I'm cumming, too, Michael. Here it cums!" said Paul.

Michael could feel both of the penises inside of him enlarging enormously. Then, at almost exactly the same time, he could feel the violent throbbing of each of them, followed by the warm flow of Paul's sperm into his rectum and the surging of Jeff's hot creamy sperm that flooded his mouth. It had been a long time since he had had the taste and feel of his son's sperm in his mouth. It was so delicious, he thought. He thought that he might even suggest that Jeff sometime jack off into a bottle and send it to him so he could sip on it and taste it.

Soon, Paul and Jeff, both very out of breath, rolled off and lay prostrate on the bed on either side of Michael. It felt good when Michael stretched out his legs after so long in the "getting fucked" position. His penis, though, was raging hard. Jeff finally moved his head over his father's thigh and began kissing and licking and sucking his balls. At the same time Paul, began to run his tongue up and down the full length of Michael's gorged penis. Pre-cum seemed to be flowing like a river down onto the faces of the two boys. Soon, both Jeff and Paul were running their tongues up and down on opposite sides of Michael's cock in a coordinated rhythm. Michael had been close to cumming the entire time he was being fucked. And now this unusual double-tongue masturbation of his penis was about to get him off big time.

Suddenly, the two boys could feel on their tongues the veins that circled Michael's penis begin to harden. They could feel his penis begin to throb, and suddenly a gusher of hot thick white sperm spewed from Michael's penis as he roared his trademark yell. Great globs of it fell in Paul's and Jeff's hair and all over their faces. They then took turns sucking Michael's penis dry, and licking the sperm off of each other's face. Michael finally lay there, totally spent. The three lay there quietly for a long time with their hot sweaty bodies pressed together.

Although they hadn't noticed it particularly until now, the noise from the dancehall was still going on loud and strong. Paul said, let's put on some robes and let's go out and sit for awhile on the balcony and watch all the guys come staggering out of the dance hall. I've got a bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator. Okay?

Jeff said, "Okay. I'll get some glasses and slice some cheese."

Michael felt so contented and loved. He was just where he wanted to be that night. He was with his son, Jeff, who he loved so much.

As they sat out in the nippy air, Jeff turned to his dad and said, "Dad, how ya doin'? Are you feeling a little better now?"

"Oh, Jeff, being with you . . . being with both of you . . . is like a tonic. I'm glad I came. Karl will be coming back in about four or five days, and we'll just sit down and talk about it. There won't be any yelling or recriminations. I've done something wrong that I will have to own up to, and I'm almost positive that he knew that I knew what he was doing when I called. We'll get through it, thanks to you."

As they sipped their wine and ate their cheese, they speculated about the various scenes being played out on the street below them among all those hot and horny couples. They thought how much more fun they were having . . . just the three of them.
 

To be continued...

 

Posted: 09/12/08