My Father, My Son
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...
Without taking his eyes off of Francisco's face, Michael rose up,
and they both started down the beach, which was now deserted. They talked about
themselves, who they were, where they were from . . . and they began talking
about romance. Francisco soon stopped and kissed Michael again.
Francisco pointed to the large hotel just ahead of them. "That is the hotel I'm
staying at while I'm here in Acapulco. Hotel de las America. You'll come up to
my room, no? Please. I want to love you, Michael. Please."
Michael put his arms around Francisco and said, "Oh, yes, yes, yes!"
Chapter 42
Michael felt that same heaviness in his legs as when he had found
Karl and Noah in the hayloft. He could feel himself moving along with Francisco,
but it almost seemed a struggle to keep his legs moving. This surely was a
dream. He remembered dreams he would have as a youngster when he was trying to
escape from something and had that same heavy feeling in his legs where they
wouldn't help him move fast enough to get away. But in this case, he wasn't
trying to get away from anything.
The soft lights of the hotel lobby cast a sensuous glow on Francisco's skin. His
long eyelashes shaded his eyes and gave them a sweet, sad look . . . almost like
the look of a vulnerable little boy. On the way up in the elevator, Francisco
just stood there looking at Michael with a look that made Michael want to melt.
Francisco unlocked his door and they stepped in. As soon as the door was closed,
Francisco turned and took Michael in his arms and kissed him deeply with those
same soft, full lips that Michael felt on the beach.
Francisco immediately threw back the covers on his bed and took off all his
clothes. Throwing himself on the bed, he lay there on his back with one knee
bent. He held out his arms to Michael saying, "Please come to me. Please."
Without being able to take his eyes off of Francisco's sensuous and mildly
muscular body, Michael took off his clothes and let them drop to the floor. As
they lay with their bodies pressed together, they kissed each other's faces with
increasing passion.
"Oh, Francisco," whispered Michael. "Back there in the cabana, there was nothing
but you. I looked at you and every movement you made and I memorized you. I
never dreamed I would ever be here with you."
"Michael, didn't you see me looking at you?"
"Yes, but I thought you were just casting your eyes around the place. Certainly
not at me."
"And didn't you hear the song I sang just for you? You probably didn't
understand. It was in Spanish, of course. It was "Love Walked In." It's an old
American song."
"You were looking at me?" said Michael.
"The whole time. Michael, you are very handsome man. You're classic. You should
be in movies."
"Hardly!"
After they kissed some more, Francisco said, "My dark skin doesn't bother you?"
"No. On the contrary. I think it is the most beautiful skin I have ever seen."
As Michael ran his hand over Francisco's face and chest, Francisco said, "My
mother was part Spanish and part American Indian. And my father was a German.
There were some people who thought my father was an escaped Nazi. But he was
finally able to prove they were wrong. He was really the grandson of a
plantation owner in Argentina."
"I was told your last name was Guevara," said Michael. "That's surely not a
German name."
"No. That is my mother's name. Many Latin Americans use their mother's names. My
father's name was Kruger. You agree that Francisco Guevara sounds better than
Francisco Kruger, no?
"If you think it does, then it does," said Michael as he gently traced
Francisco's lips with his finger.
After a few moments, Francisco looked into Michael's eyes and said, "Let me love
you, Michael. All through the show, I was dreaming that this would happen. I
want to love you."
Michael ran his hand down along Francisco's smooth back and onto his firm
buttocks.
"Will you love me, Michael?"
"What do you mean, Francisco?"
"I want you to take me. Love me as hard as you can. Do anything with me. Just
love me every way you can."
Michael realized finally that to love Francisco meant to take him any way he
wished sexually. He ran his tongue down over Francisco's chin and neck, and then
down over his firm chest. As he took each of Francisco's nipples into his mouth,
Francisco sighed loudly. Bringing his tongue down over his stomach and into his
pubic hair, Michael felt a thrill beyond words that he was on the way to having
Francisco's penis in his mouth. As he ran his tongue up along the shaft, he
could tell that his new lover was not circumcised. Taking Francisco's entire
penis in his mouth, it felt hard, but the foreskin felt soft and sweet. With his
hand, Michael drew back the foreskin and ran his tongue around the head.
Francisco lay back throwing his head from side to side and moaning, "Oh,
Michael, oh, Michael.
There were those beautifully shaped legs that were now in Michael's hands. The
feel of them . . . the contour of his thighs and the muscles in his calves sent
shivers up Michael's spine. As Michael continued massaging those legs, he took
Francisco's entire penis into his mouth down to the hilt, not caring that the
feel of the head against the back of his throat almost made him gag. Francisco's
moans were so erotic.
Soon Michael could feel Francisco's thigh muscles begin to tense up and he could
feel his penis enlarging in his mouth. Suddenly, Francisco let out a loud cry
and Michael could feel the pressure of his hot sperm blasting against the roof
of his mouth and the back of his throat. It was hot and sweet and thick. It just
kept coming, and Michael thought he had counted at least eight strong surges. He
had never had his mouth flooded with so much sperm. He held it there, letting it
slowly drip down his throat. He could hardly believe he was eating and tasting
the sperm of this beautiful man who stood up earlier and received so much
applause from his fans.
"It's been so long," murmured Francisco.
"What do you mean? You must have someone in your bed every night," said Michael.
"Hardly. I don't want you to think I think too well of myself, but I'm pretty
choosy. Someone like you, my beautiful Michael, doesn't come along every day.
Michael?"
"Yes," said Michael as he brought his tongue down to lick the soft skin on
Francisco's ball sack.
"Fuck me, Michael. Fuck me, and let me look into your face while you do it."
Francisco raised up those sensuous legs, revealing a very large pucker peering
out of his hairless ass trench. "Love me, Michael. I want you inside of me.
Please!"
Once again, Michael saw that little-boyish, vulnerable look on Francisco's face.
Dropping his own face, he flooded Francisco's ass crack with saliva and
luxuriated in the feel of his asshole on his tongue and lips.
As Michael mounted him and plunged his gorged penis into his hole, he looked at
Francisco who was looking at him with those beautiful child-like eyes, shaded
with those long black eyelashes. As he pumped harder and harder, he ran his
tongue over the smooth skin of Francisco's calves that were covered with just a
faint dusting of soft hair. He began to sweat and could see droplets of sweat
dropping onto Francisco's chest. He wanted it to last, but it was coming too
fast. He could feel a monumental orgasm building inside of him. Then it
happened. As he thrust harder and harder, he could feel his sperm shooting from
his penis.
Francisco closed his eyes and murmured, "Fill me up, Michael. It feels so warm
and nice."
Keeping his penis inside of Francisco's rectum Michael leaned over and kissed
him lightly on the lips. He was so out of breath. Francisco was moaning as
though he had had his own orgasm. Soon, Michael rolled over and lay tightly
against Francisco's body. They ran their hands lightly over each other's skin
and kissed again. As Michael ran his hand into Francisco's crack, he could feel
the warm, sticky cum that was beginning to leak out of his hole.
Francisco said, "Please, Michael, stay with me tonight. Sleep with me. And let
me love you."
The thought of Karl flashed into Michael's mind. But he only smiled to himself.
In a way, he wished Karl could see him now. He felt no regrets. It was his right
to do this. It was a beautiful experience.
"Oh, yes, Francisco," whispered Michael. "I'll stay with you tonight. And you
can love me all you want. And I'll love you, too."
With Michael's hand moving slowly over the velvety brown skin on his lover, they
were both soon asleep.
Although Paul had to stay in Austin to meet his classes, Jeff drove back to the
ranch that evening. As he got out of his car, Jake met him and asked him to come
into his room. There, with Enrique by his side, he told Jeff the whole story.
Jeff said, "I can see where it hurt Dad a lot when he discovered that, but I
can't understand why he would just leave like this. That isn't like him. Did
anyone ride out and see if he might have gone out to his house in the
Cottonwoods. He likes to go there sometimes when he feels he needs to be alone."
"We thought of that, Jeff. We rode all over this fuckin' ranch to see if he was
out there somewhere just wanting to be alone. But he ain't nowhere."
"Is Karl still around?" asked Jeff.
"Yeah, he's here. I beat the fuckin' shit outta him this morning in his room."
"Aw, Jake! That isn't the way to handle this. This is something between him and
my dad. It's their relationship, and they're going to have work it out
themselves. I'm as angry and disappointed with Karl as you are, and since
Michael's my dad, I'll tell him so. But to beat Karl up isn't the way to solve
anything."
"Yer too fuckin' nice, Jeff," said Jake. "And yer dad's too nice. Someone's got
to knock some fuckin' sense in these fuckers that think can git away with stuff.
Don't fergit, I spent a lot a time takin' care of yer dad when he was a little
fucker around here a long time ago. He's like my own flesh and blood, he is.
Nobody gits away with this kind a shit. I'll beat the fuckin' crap outta anybody
that treats my Michael like that. Like it or not, that's my kind of justice."
"Okay, Jake. I'm sure Karl knows now how you feel. And maybe you're right.
Someone had to tell him how wrong he was. Thanks, Jake, for telling me about
this." Then turning to Enrique, Jeff said, "Ricky, I'm sorry about this. I mean,
I know how you felt about Noah. I still hope that you two can work things out
and get together."
Jake said, "You think Ricky here's gonna git with Noah after what he did?"
"Jake," said Jeff. "Do you remember ever making mistakes when you were young?
And look at Ricky. We know he's made mistakes, and you're one of those who felt
the hurt. Jake, Noah's only seventeen. He doesn't have the experience or the
judgment at that age. Noah is a really nice kid. And I know for a fact that he
loves Ricky a lot. I just know he never intentionally set out to hurt Ricky. It
was just the bad judgment of a seventeen year old. Don't condemn him for that.
These are lessons young people have to learn as they grow."
Reaching over and tousling Enrique's hair, Jeff said, "Ricky, don't be hard on
Noah. He's made a mistake, and if I know Karl, it wasn't all Noah's fault. And
remember, Ricky, Noah has been through a lot. His dad, who he loves very much
was shot, and his mother is on her way to jail. Just love him, Ricky. He needs
that from you."
Enrique stood up and threw his arms around Jeff. "I will, Jeff."
"Okay, you guys," said Jeff. "I'm going over to the house and call Corky and
Mark and let them know about Dad. And hopefully they can help locate him. And
I'll try to talk to Karl, too."
When Jeff departed, Jake said, "Well, Ricky, Jeff's just like his dad. They
ain't never got nothin' bad to say about nobody. I don't know how they git away
with it."
"You're pretty nice, too, Jake," said Enrique, "when you're not losing your
temper and going around beating people up."
"Well, Ricky, ya gotta use all yer weapons in yer arsenal. When nice fails, then
ya gotta resort to mean!"
When Jeff walked into the kitchen through the backdoor, he was met by Tony and
Clayton, who were sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer. "Oh, Jeff!"
shouted Tony as he rose to his feet. "We're so worried. I've been trying to calm
Clayton down. He keeps thinking Michael's dead. We're so glad you're here."
"Calm down, you two. Michael's not dead. He's just gone off to do some thinking
about some things, I'm sure. I'm going to use the phone here and call Corky and
Mark."
Clayton said, "We're going to go on to bed now, Jeff. Do you think Corky and
Mark will be able to find Michael?"
"Well, I sure hope so." Tony and Clayton each gave Jeff a big hug and a kiss,
and went off to their room.
"Hello, Corky. It's Jeff."
"Hey, Jeff, are you okay?
"I'm okay, but I'm down here at the ranch. Dad's gone off somewhere and nobody
knows where he is. This is the second night he's been gone. I sure was hoping
that you could somehow help us out. I know you've done pretty well on some other
missing persons cases you've had."
"Sure, we'll do everything we can. What happened."
"Nobody's quite sure. He and Karl had a problem and Dad just got in his car and
took off. And nobody knows where he was headed."
"Gosh, Jeff, that isn't much to go on. Was he in his own car?"
"I don't have the info right at hand, but I'll fax the license number to you in
a little bit, as well as the make and year of the car. Thanks a lot, Corky. I'm
really worried about him. Give my love to that gorgeous hunk, Mark, for me, will
you?"
"I sure will, Jeff. We'll do what we can as soon as I get your fax."
Jeff hung up and wondered whether or not to go in to see Karl, or wait 'til
morning. He looked in the refrigerator and found a bowl of Tony's famous rice
pudding with cinnamon and raisons. It was just the thing he needed. Dishing
himself up a large helping, he sat at the kitchen table, and tried to think of
where Michael would likely have gone. But he had no answers.
Jeff knew he wasn't going to sleep well that night and decided to pay a visit to
Karl. Knocking on his door, he said, "Karl. It's Jeff. Can I come in?"
When Jeff entered, he found Karl lying on top of the spread staring at the
ceiling. "Jeff, before you say anything, I've decided to leave here. I don't
belong here. I tried to make a life here for myself. But I don't belong here."
Jeff sat on the side of the bed. "Karl, you're not going anywhere. But I want
you to be honest with me. Do you have so little feeling for my dad? You and he
have been through this before. What is it that makes you do these things? Does
it matter to you how much you hurt him? Karl?"
Karl turned his head and, with red and swollen eyes, looked at Jeff. "I love
Michael more than anything or anyone in my life. Of course it matters to me that
I hurt him. I don't know what's wrong with me, Jeff. I either need a shrink or I
need to go back and live my slutty life in New York where I belong. Jake said
that I stole half the ranch from Michael. I tried to be a good person. I tried
to . . . . I don't deserve Michael. Jeff, as soon as I can get my stuff
together, I'm going back. I've been nothing but trouble to Michael. He's put up
with me for so long."
"Karl, what do you think is wrong?, asked Jeff. "You say you've tried to be a
good person. So what makes you do things like what you did with Noah?"
"Oh, Jeff. Don't blame Noah for any of this. He's a nice kid. He's blameless. I
forced him."
"Believe me, Karl, I don't blame him. But I still want to know what you think it
is that makes you do these things. Why do you love my dad so much on one hand,
and then turn around and do the very things you know are not right?"
"I don't know, Jeff. My mind goes crazy sometimes. I can feel it happening.
Everything evaporates from my mind and there's nothing there but a single-minded
drive to have sex with someone who I'm attracted to. It's just sex. I have no
other feeling in my head but a desire for sex." Karl looked at Jeff again. "I
don't belong here, Jeff. There's something wrong with me."
Jeff was beginning to believe that there was, indeed, something wrong with Karl
. . . something psychological. He knew, without any doubt, that Karl loved
Michael passionately. But there was something crazy in Karl's head causing this
aberrant behavior.
"Okay, Karl. You need to get some sleep. You look exhausted."
"I can't sleep. Macbeth doth murder sleep," said Karl.
"What?"
"Oh, just a very appropriate line from Shakespeare."
"Alright, we'll talk more in the morning."
Noah and Caleb had gone to their room early. Noah lay on his stomach as his
father rubbed his back. Barely audible, Noah said, "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know
why I did it."
"Don't blame yourself, Noah," said Caleb. "These things happen. You just have to
learn from them. You just need to be more careful, and don't let your sexual
desires draw you into places where you shouldn't go. Karl is the one who has to
look at himself and be accountable."
"Dad, it isn't really Karl I worry about," said Noah as he turned over on his
side so he could look at his father. "It's Ricky. I was looking forward so much
to being with him. And now I've done this. He'll never want to look at me again.
I've just ruined everything." Reaching up and putting his arms around his
father's neck, with tears in his eyes, he said, "And I've disappointed you, Dad.
That's the worst of all. I'm so sorry."
Caleb hugged his son tightly. "Oh, Noah. You've never disappointed me. I made
terrible mistakes when I was a youngster . . . some worse than you have. But
then you learn from them. It's all part of growing up. No, Noah. You're not a
disappointment to me. I'm very proud of you. If it weren't for you, young man,
and your quick thinking when I got shot, I might have bled to death. You're a
hero in my eyes."
"I love you, Dad."
"Noah, Ricky's a smart and sensible young man. In the morning, the best you
could do is to go and find him and tell him how you feel. I just have a feeling
he'll understand. Okay?"
"Okay. But I just know he'll be mad at me."
As Caleb took hold of Noah's shoulders, he laid him down on his back, and said,
"Why don't you and I forget about all that for awhile." As he gently flicked
Noah's soft penis, he said, "I think we both need a little pleasure in our lives
tonight, don't you?"
Noah smiled and nodded his head. He could see that his father's penis had become
erect, and his own was hardening rapidly. "Dad," Noah said hesitatingly. "Could
I do it to you tonight? I've wanted to so badly. Would you like me to do it to
you?"
"I've wanted you to do it, Noah. I was just going to leave it up to you. I don't
want you to do anything that you don't want to do."
"I want to, Dad."
Caleb got up and retrieved a tube of KY from his suitcase and then lay down on
his back. Noah spread his father's legs and lay on his stomach between them. As
he looked at his father's gorged penis, he touched his tongue to his balls and
then brought it up along the underside of Caleb's shaft, sucking off the bubbles
of pre-cum that were seeping out of his fathers pee hole. "Dad, I just wanted to
get a little of that first."
Rising up on his haunches, he put his hands under his father's knees and lifted
his legs as high as he could.
As Caleb handed Noah the KY, he said, "You know it's up to you, but you might
like to know that a lot of saliva works just as well as KY. Did you know that?"
Noah smiled at his dad. "I'll bet you would prefer saliva, wouldn't you? Now be
truthful!"
"Well, Noah, as I say, it's your choice. But, ya, I kind of like the saliva
method."
Noah took the hint. He had wanted to run his tongue over his dad's asshole, but
had been afraid that his dad might object. Noah leaned over and ran his tongue
gently all over his dad's ass cheeks, and then slipped it into the crack. He
lashed it through the thick hair until he found the pucker. Suddenly Caleb gave
a short cry of pleasure as he felt his son's tongue swirling over his hole.
"Noah, now work up as much saliva as you can and just flood my crack with it.
And if you can force some into the hole that will be even better."
Noah's saliva flowed freely, and he did his best to push his tongue into the
hole. "I think it's pretty wet now, Dad. Can I do it now?"
Caleb nodded. As Noah got up on his knees preparing to mount his dad, Caleb
noticed the long string of glistening pre-cum dangling from his son's hard
penis. "Noah, all that good semen that's dripping out of your penis is also good
lubrication."
Noah began to push the head of his penis against his dad's asshole. It went in
easily. The sensation of his dad's tight hole clamping down on his penis was
beyond description.
"Now, Noah," said Caleb, "push it in all the way and then pull out again just so
only the head of your penis is inside. So as you pump, you'll get the pressure
of my sphincter muscle up and down the full length of your penis."
Noah did as Caleb instructed, and the feeling was incredible. When he had fucked
Ricky, and later Karl, he didn't know that technique. But now the feeling was so
erotic, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it long. When Caleb reached up and
pinched his nipples, that did it.
"I'm cumming, Dad. Oh, Dad, if feels so good. Can I let it go inside of you? Is
it okay?"
"Yes, yes, son. Just let her blow!"
Noah could feel the surging of his sperm up the shaft and out. The idea that he
was hurling his load of hot sperm up his father's ass seemed to prolong his
orgasm. Noah called out at each surge, almost at the top of his voice.
"That felt so wonderful, son," said Caleb as Noah rolled off onto his back. "But
I'll bet the whole house heard you yelling. But I don't think that'll bother
anyone. Last night I woke up and I could hear Clayton in the next room growling
and grunting. It was obvious he was cumming big time with Tony."
Caleb went into his bathroom and brought back a warm, wet washcloth. Lying back
down and bringing his legs up, he said, "Noah, would you wash off my hole. I
think your cum's oozing out."
Noah began to get hard all over again as he looked at his own cum dripping out
of his father's asshole. He spent considerable time wiping it up carefully, and
then lay down next to his dad. In minutes, they were both asleep.
When Caleb and Noah awoke the next morning at the sound of Tony's dinner bell,
Caleb got up immediately and showered and shaved. When he returned to the room,
he found Noah still in bed with the covers pulled up to his neck.
"Noah! Why are you still in bed? Didn't you hear the bell. You'll be late for
breakfast."
"Dad, I don't want any breakfast. I think I'll just stay here for awhile."
"What's the matter, son? Don't you feel well?"
"I feel okay. But I just don't want to see anyone this morning."
Caleb sat on the side of the bed and leaned over and kissed Noah. "Noah. Are you
afraid you'll run into Ricky? Remember what we talked about? I'm sure he doesn't
blame you for anything. You've got to talk with him sometime."
"I know, Dad," said Noah, rolling over and pulling the sheet up over his head. I
just don't want to do it yet."
"Okay, Noah. When you're ready. I'm going over to breakfast. Would you like me
to bring you back something?"
"No, thank you."
Caleb got dressed and went over to the dining hall for breakfast. As soon as he
sat down, Enrique came over and sat next to him. "Hi Mr. Phillips! Where's
Noah?"
"Oh, hi, Ricky. He said he wasn't hungry and thought he'd stay in bed for a
little while. How have you been?"
"I'm fine. I have to talk to Noah."
"Well, Ricky, I think Noah's very embarrassed and upset over what happened. He
wants to blame himself."
"Oh, no. He shouldn't feel that way. I don't blame him. Jake and Jeff explained
to me what happened, and I want to tell him everything's okay . . . you know . .
. okay with him and me."
"I'll tell you what, Ricky. Noah's still awake. When you're through eating, why
don't you go on over there to our room and talk to him. I'll stay away for
awhile. The two of you really need to have time to be alone. I'll tell you
something confidentially, Ricky. He loves you very much, and he's ashamed of
what he did. I may be prejudiced, but Noah is a good boy. He just made a mistake
for which he's very sorry."
"I know. Thanks Mr. Phillips. I love Noah, too. I'll see you later."
Enrique knocked lightly on Noah's door. When he entered, Noah saw him and
quickly covered his head again with the sheet. Enrique tip-toed over to the bed
and, leaning over, poked his fingers into Noah's sides and tickled him
unmercifully until Noah was thrashing around in uncontrolled laughter. Enrique
pulled the sheet down and grabbed Noah, pulling him up in a big bear hug.
Noah quickly said, "Oh, Ricky, I'm so sorry. I was so stupid."
"Forget it, Noah." And then calling up what Jeff had said, Enrique repeated,
"Everyone our age makes mistakes. And we just learn by our mistakes."
Noah looked at Enrique and smiled. "You know, that's just what my dad said.
Ricky it was really a mistake, and I have really learned a lot. I was so afraid
you were going to be mad at me and never talk to me again."
As Noah threw his arms around Enrique, they both fell back on the bed. Enrique
looked down and saw that Noah was hard, and reached down cupping his hand around
Noah's balls.
"Ricky, would you get naked with me and get in bed with me? I don't know when my
dad's coming back. But I don't think he would mind."
"Noah, I talked to your dad at breakfast, and he said he's not going to come
back right away."
"So he knows you're here?"
"He sure does." Enrique stripped off his clothes and immediately went down on
Noah. "Noah, I've been dreaming about having your cock in my mouth again. It
tastes so good."
Noah said, "I have to tell you, Ricky, I haven't had a shower yet this morning,
and last night I had my penis up my dad's ass. It was our first time."
Ricky purred, "That makes it taste even better."
"Ricky, does Jake know you're here?"
"No, but he's okay about you and me. Why don't you come over to our room some
night with Jake and me? And maybe bring your dad, too."
"Oh, would Jake go for that?"
"I know he would. He's game for anything. And he's a great fuck, too. Here,
Noah, turn yourself around and suck me off, too. Maybe we can come together like
we did at your house."
Lying in a sixty-nine position, Enrique and Noah swallowed each other's penises
and sucked each other hard. Just then, the door opened and Caleb walked in. They
were each startled and pulled off quickly.
"Sorry, I came back so soon, boys. Just keep going. I'm just glad to see you
guys back together." Caleb sat in a chair and undid his pants and stroked his
own hard penis as he watched. It was so erotic for him to watch his son in a
sixty-nine with another boy. Enrique positioned himself so he could have a good
view of Noah's father jerking off. Caleb had a handkerchief ready in one hand to
catch his sperm. Having Noah's father there watching was almost more than
Enrique and Noah could take, and it took them only minutes before they came in
each other's mouth. When Caleb saw this, he lost it and began shooting his cum
everywhere, missing his handkerchief. Most of it went onto his leg and on the
floor.
When it was over, Caleb said, "You guys are two hot pistols. I'm going to find a
way where you can be together more often."
Meanwhile, in Acapulco, the sun was pouring into Francisco's hotel room window
the morning after. Michael was a bit disoriented at first and, before opening
his eyes very wide, he said, "Karl, is it time to get up?" He turned his head
and suddenly realized where he was. There lay Francisco, naked and spread out on
his side of the bed, still sound asleep. Once again, Michael felt that certain
thrill surge through his body at the sight of this god-like figure next to him.
He wanted to touch him, but didn't want to wake him. He wanted to lie there and
drink in the beauty of Francisco's long, beautifully shaped body with the
velvety brown skin. Francisco's long ball sack was lying limply on one thigh,
and his soft penis on the other. It was all Michael could do to keep his hands
and his tongue off that perfect body. Francisco's mouth was slightly open and he
was breathing heavily. What a beautiful thing, Michael thought, to see
Francisco's perfectly formed chest rising and falling with each breath.
Michael found it hard to believe that just hours before, he was watching this
beautiful man on stage entertaining a large appreciative crowd. And now here he
was lying in bed with him, completely naked and looking so vulnerable.
Soon, Francisco began to stir and, with sleepy eyes looked over at Michael. He
smiled one of the sweetest smiles Michael had ever seen. Michael leaned over and
touched Francisco's full, soft lips with his own. Francisco said, "Good Morning,
my love," and rolled over so his body was pressed against Michael's. They kissed
deeply and ran their hands over each other's body.
Michael was startled suddenly when Francisco said, "You'll be my lover from now
on, no?"
Michael sat up and tried to explain that he was in Acapulco for only ashort
vacation and had to go back to Texas soon.
Francisco sat up and smiled. "I know. You have been running away from something
or someone, no? That's why you're here. And you've had one of those romantic
vacation romances with a handsome foreigner we read about in novels. Right?"
"Francisco . . . ."
"It's alright. I understand. You're such a good looking man. The one you are
running away from is so lucky. And I'm sure he misses you."
"Oh, I don't know . . . ."
"Don't say anymore, Michael. Why don't we go out and I'll show you the town.
We'll take a carriage. And we'll just be happy while you're here, and tonight,
I'll be your lover again, and you'll be mine. And the next night, and the next,
until you feel you have to leave. Okay?"
Michael and Francisco got dressed and went out to a waterside cabana for
breakfast. Then Francisco hired a horse carriage and a driver. They spent a
glorious day riding through the historic area of town and along the water and up
in the hills a short way.
They stopped for lunch at a seaside cabana and had beer and shrimp. "It's been a
wonderful morning, Francisco," said Michael as he watched the waves of the
Pacific Ocean lapping at the boardwalk.
"Michael. I've got to go back and do some rehearsing this afternoon with my
musicians for tonight's show. We'll take a taxi back to your hotel where you can
rest this afternoon or do whatever you want. I'll meet you at your hotel dining
room for dinner. Shall we say about five o'clock? Then, if you like, you can be
my guest at a front table for the show tonight. And then we can spend the night
at my room again. You'd like that, no?"
"It sounds perfect, Francisco."
When Michael was let off at his hotel, he went first to a small men's boutique
on the first floor to buy a new shirt. The two he had brought with him were so
dull and ratty looking. When he got to his room, he flopped down on the bed. He
couldn't believe what was happening. Francisco could not be more than in his
mid-twenties . . . twenty-eight or twenty-nine, at the most. But Michael felt as
though he were a teenager, having been seduced by an older man. Francisco
treated him so kindly, as he would treat a younger man.
It was beginning to bother Michael that he had left home without telling anyone.
He should have at least told Jeff. He'd understand. Going to the phone, he
placed a call to Jeff's apartment in Austin. Paul answered.
"Paul, is Jeff there?"
"Michael? Is that you, Michael?
"Yes. I need to speak with Jeff."
Paul said, "When we learned that you were gone, Jeff went down to the ranch to
see if he could find you. That's where he is now. Where are you, Michael?"
"Oh, Paul, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I'll call Jeff now. Thanks Paul."
When Michael called the ranch, Tony answered. "Michael! Oh, thank God! Yes, I'll
get Jeff right away."
When Jeff got on the phone, he shouted, "Dad! Where the fuck are you?"
"Oh, Jeff. It's good to hear your voice. I came down here to Acapulco. I just
needed to get away for awhile."
"I know, Dad. I've heard what happened. But why Acapulco, for God's sake?"
"I don't know, Jeff. I just felt like going off to another world somewhere."
"Oh, Dad. I'm so relieved. Are you going to come home now. You know, Dad, you
and Karl have to work this out. It just doesn't seem like you . . . to have run
away from it like this."
"I don't know when I'm coming home."
"Dad, I'm going to fly down there tomorrow morning and we'll talk. Then I'm
bringing you back home."
"Son, you don't have to do that."
"I know, but I'm going to."
After hanging up, Jeff called to make his plane reservation and called his
father back to tell him when he would arrive.
As agreed, Michael met Francisco at the cabana for dinner at precisely five
o'clock. The waiter led him to a waterside table where Francisco was seated.
Michael's triple Scotch on the rocks was already on the table waiting for him.
"Francisco, I have to tell you that I called my son, Jeff, this afternoon. When
I left, I didn't tell anyone where I was going. But I should have. I didn't want
him to, but he's flying down here tomorrow afternoon, and he says he's going to
take me home."
"Michael, you must have an extraordinary son. You are so lucky that he loves you
that much."
"Yes, I am lucky . . . very lucky. But we'll be able to be together . . . you
and me . . . tonight, Francisco."
The two sat and talked and ate until about seven-thirty when Francisco said he
needed to go and change to be ready for the first show at 8 p.m.. "Michael, when
you come to the show, the waiter will be instructed where to seat you. Also,
after the last show, please meet me at the same place on the beach where we met
last night. You'll be there for me, no?"
Looking into Francisco's smiling eyes, Michael said, "I promise."
Michael watched as a blazing red sun began to set in the west. It was so much
like those wonderful Texas sunsets he would see at the ranch. At the same time,
the sun was setting over the Walker Ranch.
Karl had not come out of his room for the past two days, except once to sit at
the kitchen table sullenly and eat a lunch that Tony had prepared for him. Tony
had sat with him and tried to talk to him.
"Karl, please talk to me. I hate seeing you like this." Tony put his hand on
Karl's arm, but Karl pulled it away abruptly. "I'm worried about you, Karl. You
haven't eaten hardly at all."
Karl put his half-eaten sandwich down and started to get up. Tony pleaded,
"Please Karl, I've always been your friend. You know how much I've always loved
you. Don't walk away. Please!"
Without a word, Karl walked back to his room. Tony put his head down on the
table and cried. He finally rose up, knowing that he had to get started with
supper for the crew.
That evening after cleaning up the kitchen, Tony brought a tray of soup and
fried tortillas to Karl's door. "Karl, I've brought you something to eat. May I
come in?" Hearing no answer, he opened the door.
Setting the tray down and looking alarmed at Karl, he said, "Karl, what are you
doing?"
Karl was sitting on the bed taking his shotgun out of its case. "Why are you
doing that, Karl?"
Karl looked up at Tony with red eyes, but with a slight smile on his face. "Oh,
this. I think I'll go for a walk. I think I'll go out to see if I can shoot some
quail."
"But Karl, it's pitch black out. How can you go hunting when it's dark out?"
As Karl ran his hand over the shotgun, he said, "Michael's a great quail hunter.
He told me that nighttime is the best time to hunt quail. They're not very
active at night and it's easier to find them."
"Karl, that's crazy. You can't hunt quail at night."
"Oh, sure I can," said Karl as he walked out the door and out to the front
verandah.
Tony followed him. "See, Karl, it's dark out there. You can't hunt when it's so
dark." Tony began to worry that Karl had something else in mind. "Karl, I'll go
out there with you."
Karl turned and put his hand on Tony's cheek and held it there for a few
seconds. "No. You stay here. Everything will be fine."
As Karl started walking out over the flat land ahead of him, Tony put his arms
around one of the pillars and watched him. Slowly Karl disappeared far into the
darkness where Tony could no longer see him. After a few minutes, Tony heard a
single shot in the distance. "Karl! Karl!" Tony screamed as he slumped to the
floor of the verandah, still holding on to the pillar. Sobbing, he called again.
"Karl! Oh, my God, Karl!
To be continued...
Posted: 09/19/08