Love Is Where You Find It by Hankster

Love Is Where You Find It
by: Hankster

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Chapter 18

I can’t tell you where the next year went. One moment I was a quaking newbie walking into my first class, and the next I was, in my opinion, a seasoned teacher.

Jim and Jamie made both Brad and Russ partners right after tax season, and added another man and woman to the staff. Both of them were straight so the professional staff consisted of five gay men, one straight man and one straight woman. The clerical staff remained all straight as it expanded also. Nobody could accuse Pickler and Underwood of being discriminatory.

The firm outgrew their offices and instead of renting a larger space they bought a building with enough space for the firm, with room for expansion, and an additional ten offices for rent. Both the professional and clerical staffs were given the opportunity to invest in the building, but only the professional staff and the office manager took up the offer. Jim and Jamie’s first secretary had been elevated to manager, as the firm had grown.

Sam and Chris chucked the condoms, declaring that their love rivaled Romeo and Juliet, and they were totally committed to each other. They had slept with other guys, and one or two girls, just to see how it was. They enjoyed themselves and had fun, but it wasn’t right for either of them. They both enrolled at UCSF, but both sets of parents said that unless they could get scholarships they couldn’t afford to send them to the school. Brad and I did not hesitate. We insisted on paying fifty percent of each boy’s tuition and expenses. The parents objected, but we would not take no for an answer.

“After all,” Brad pointed out, “they’re our brothers. We have a vested interest in their future.”

The boys chose to live on campus and of course, they were room mates. They spent the weekends at home in neutral territory – our house. We loved having them, and their noisy love making often turned us on, and got us aroused even when we thought that we were too tired for sex.

When the Hansons finally agreed to allow us to help fund Chris’s education, Peter asked us very simply, “Why?”

I wanted to say, “Because I’m loaded,” but Brad said, “Our church and our pastor teach us that giving and charity are the responsibility of every person on the planet. Aaron and I give as generously as we can to charity, but in this case the giving begins at home.”

“You know,” Peter said, “I really liked your pastor when we met him. He’s genuine. Before Chris came out to us, I had all those prejudicial stereotypes about gays. Little by little, every one is being disproved. Anna and Tom have been urging us to go to church with them, and you know what? We’re going this Sunday. I’ll see you there, buddy.”

Brad was so moved he put his arms around Peter and hugged him. Peter stood almost a foot taller than Brad. Not only did he hug Brad back, but he put his hand behind Brad’s head and held him tightly against his shoulder.

The Hansons attended our church that very Sunday. Clint had them laughing and crying during the sermon. As usual the Hansons felt that Clint was talking right to them. They joined us in the social hall after the service and it seemed to me that they felt right at home. The boys introduced them to Frank Inman, the youth counselor, and Peter thanked him for a job well done. It was amazing.

Before I knew where the time had gone, I was sitting with the faculty at my first graduation ceremony. Not that I am prejudiced, but certainly Sam and Chris were the best looking hunks in the senior class. I knew that Brad and I had a profound influence on the boys (should I start saying, the men?), but when Sam said that he was going to major in accounting, and Chris announced that he was going to major in education, I damn near cried.

After the graduation, it was the Hansons this time who made a back yard barbeque. Besides all of our friends, Sam and Chris invited many of the kids from their youth group.

Alone at home that night, while Brad and I were cuddling in bed, Brad began to play the “What If?” game.

“What if you weren’t student teaching in Sam’s math class, and what if he hadn’t approached you about his sexuality, I never would have met him and I might never have been reunited with my folks,” he moaned.

“What if he never attended the youth group at the church? He might never have met Chris,” he continued to ponder the wonders of the Universe.

Of course, there were no answers so I played the game myself. “What if my folks hadn’t kicked me out and I had stayed in Boise? I never would have met you.”

“Stop it!” Brad yelled. “That’s too unbearable to think about. Do you ever long to be reunited with them?”

“Once in a while,” I mused, “but I know it can never be, so I try not to think of it.”

“Why don’t you send them a Christmas card this year and see what happens. Maybe you could enclose a short note saying that you are doing well. They might appreciate that,” Brad suggested.

“They would never open the letter. You’re day dreaming, sweetheart.”

Brad persisted. “What about writing to your sisters?”

“That might work, but they’re probably married by now and I wouldn’t know how to reach them,” I replied, remaining negative.

“We could try to Google them or hire a detective. Give me the names and last known addresses of everyone in your family and let me see what I can do,” Brad said. Somehow, I got the feeling that Brad was about to embark on an adventure of exploration.

It was summer and I had gotten a job as a day camp counselor at the local YMCA. I also taught evening math classes at the high school two evenings a week. I left for work a little earlier than Brad. The next morning I wrote down the names of my parents and their address and telephone number on a pad, Abigail and Jonathan Jackson. Then I added my younger sister, Marion, who was still living at home when I left. My older sister, Cheryl, was at BYU when I left and that was all I knew.

I went off to work and promptly forgot about it, but at the end of July, Brad came home one day with a grin on his face. He handed me a thin folder and said, “Here’s everything you need to know to contact your family. I hired a detective.”

Not only was I stunned, I was shaking too hard to take the folder. Brad put the folder on the coffee table in the living room. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

That night as we got ready for bed, I still hadn’t looked at the folder, and Brad said nothing. I needed to get my mind off things so I invited Brad to shower with me. He gladly accepted.

Once the warm water was cascading down our naked bodies we began to kiss. I was determined to make this the best session ever. I let my mind fantasize to the first time we had made love, to the first time Carl and I had sex, to the first time Carl, Jorge and I had sex, to the time I had sex with Sam and Chris. I was so worked up, I nearly lunged at Brad’s cock enveloping it with my lips and gobbling it up. I couldn’t seem to get enough of my lover.

“Stop!” he entreated me. “I want to be a part of this. Let’s take the action to our bed.”

We dried quickly and ran to bed. “My turn!” Brad yelled, and before I knew what happened, my cock was devoured by his mouth, and his tongue was poking at my piss slit. I came suddenly, and he kept right on sucking me, no matter how much I begged him to stop. Eventually the sensitivity wore off and I began to be aroused again by his urgent sucking.

“I’m cumming again,” I yelled and spilled more of my seed down his throat.

“Is that what you wanted? Have you delayed enough?” he asked, very annoyed at me. “Now go down stairs and write a letter to any or all of your family. You can also telephone, but I can see that you won’t.” He turned on his side and faced away from me.

I crept out of bed like a little pussy cat with its tail between its legs and went downstairs. I didn’t bother to put a robe on and I was naked. Somehow I was unaware of my state. I stood in front of the coffee table still unable to touch the folder. I was aware only that my cock was sore. Then Brad came up behind me and helped me into a robe.

“Read,” he said kindly, and I did.

My mother and father were at the same address and telephone number. My little sister was in college and I had her address and the telephone number to her dorm room, but it was summer now. She might have a different number next semester. My older sister was married and living in Los Angeles. Her husband’s name was Adam Bergman and they had one child, a two month old son named Aaron. She named her baby after me? That was too hard to believe. Somehow, I knew that she had not married a Mormon.

I thought about what to do for several days. Brad did not say anything or push me at all. I do so love the guy. Finally I decided to write to Cheryl. She had always been the least provincial of my family. Also she would be the easier of my two sisters to reach. I worked on the letter for two days.

Dear Cheryl:

I know that this letter will come as a huge surprise to you, but whether you reject me or not, I am reaching out to my family. I need to fill a huge void in my life. Truthfully, I am starting with you. Somehow, I feel that you are the one who can be most forgiving in the case of your little brother.

When our parents threw me out because I was gay, I went to San Francisco. I got a job at Wendy’s and worked my way up to store manager. All the time I was taking my college courses on line. I finally got my degree in education, and today I teach high school mathematics and I love it. God worked a miracle through me. I was able to reunite one of my students with his long lost brother. It’s a long story, and I must save it for another time.

I am partnered with the most wonderful guy in the world. He’s a CPA. We own our own home; have two cars; but no children. He has two younger brothers who we mentor, and who we consider to be like our own kids. We are even participating in funding their college educations. Although Bradley has a great relationship with his parents, we have been ‘adopted’ by an older gay couple who have been more father to us than our own Dad ever was to me.

I would like nothing better than to have a relationship with you and your husband and meet my little nephew. What was his name again? LOL.

I don’t ask much. If even one member of my family can accept me and my life style, my life will be complete. I always loved you. I still do. I still love God and go to church every Sunday. It’s not a Mormon church, but it’s where I learned that God is love.

Please write to me. I have your telephone number. I won’t call unless you want me to. I love you.

Your brother,

Aaron.

I mailed the letter two days after completing it. I was still frightened at what might result. It took four days more after that, but I got a reply.

Aaron, Aaron, my beloved brother. Yes, yes, yes! Call me. I yearn to hear your voice. I have missed you so much and (God forgive me) cursed our folks often enough for what they did to you, what they did to both of us.

I worked in a diner on weekends to make extra money in college. Every Saturday and Sunday morning this gorgeous hunk of a man came in for brunch and flirted with me. He would insist on being seated at my station. He kept asking for a date and I kept saying no. He was a lawyer in a large international law firm. One day he said that he gotten a promotion and he was being transferred to the Los Angeles office. He said that if I didn’t marry him and move to LA with him, he would definitely kill himself. I knew something he didn’t. I was so crazy in love with him that if he hadn’t asked me to marry him, I would have killed myself. Can you imagine little brother? We hadn’t ever been out on an official date and we were talking marriage.

When Mom and Dad heard I was engaged, they showed no joy. Dad only wanted to know if he was a Mormon. When I told him that Adam was Jewish, he did to me what he did to you. He gave me a half hour to pack and get out.

Adam’s family lived in Los Angeles and that’s why he asked for reassignment there. I took a bus to LA where Adam and his parents met me at the bus terminal. His folks welcomed me with open arms. They paid my tuition to complete my degree in elementary education, and paid for a beautiful wedding for Adam and me. The ceremony was performed jointly by an Episcopal priest and a rabbi. If only I knew where you were. I would have been thrilled to have you walk me down the aisle.

There is a little sad news. Adam’s wonderful parents were killed in a plane crash last year. His sixteen year old brother, Ben, lives with us now. Ben has let us know that he is gay and he thought we would kick him out. He should have known his brother better. I can’t imagine my life without Ben in it. His kind soul shines through his eyes. Don’t tell Adam, but Ben is growing up to be even handsomer than he is. I didn’t think that was possible.

Please call immediately you receive this letter. I’ll go crazy until I hear from you. I am on maternity leave, so I am home all the time. If you don’t reach me at home, my cell number is 323-555-6745.

Love, love, love (give Brad a hug from me and Adam), Cheryl

The minute I stopped crying, I called Brad and read the letter.

“I’m coming right home,” he said. “Please don’t call your sister until I get there.”

Brad was home in half an hour. “OK,” he said, “you’re on.”

I tried several times to dial the number, but I was shaking so badly I kept screwing up and punching in the wrong numbers. Finally Brad grabbed the phone and dialed for me.

A female voice picked up the phone and started yelling. “Aaron, Aaron is that you?” Obviously she had caller ID.

“No, this is Brad. Aaron is shaking too hard to dial. Here, I’m putting him on.”

Still quivering, I took the phone from Brad. Quietly I asked, “Cheryl is it really you?”

“Yes, my darling it’s me.” I started to cry and Brad took back the phone.

“I hope you have lots of time Cheryl,” he said. “Aaron can’t stop crying.”

“Me too,” she broke down sobbing.

Suddenly a teen age voice, recently deepened in pitch, said, “Bradley, this is Benjamin. You have no idea how great it is for me to find out that I have two brothers in law who are gay. It’s a blast not being the only one in the family. I can’t wait to meet you guys. It’s hard for us to travel with the baby. Could you come down here for a few days? I don’t think Cheryl could bear not seeing and hugging Aaron for much longer.”

I grabbed the phone back. “Hi Cheryl, it’s Aaron back.”

“This is Ben, Aaron. My brother’s at work. Wait, here’s Cheryl.”

“Did you hear what Ben said? How soon can you come?”

“I can give up counseling at the Y for a few days. I teach math at the high school on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I suppose we could get a late night flight on a Thursday after class and return on Tuesday afternoon if Brad can arrange it.” Brad was nodding his head vigorously as if to say, “Yes, I can.”

“Let me call you back as soon as we make the arrangements,” I said. “I love all of you in LA,” I screamed into the phone.

“We love you too,” I heard Cheryl and Ben echo back.

Immediately Brad called his office. He told Jim what was going on and Jim gasped, “My God, man. This is so incredible. It’s almost like you finding your parents. By all means take as much time as you need.”

Then I called the Y and told them I could not be in the following Friday, Monday and Tuesday.

We called the airlines and booked the last shuttle out at 10 PM Thursday evening and an early afternoon flight back on Tuesday. That week I rushed my Thursday evening class because I couldn’t concentrate on anything but seeing Cheryl anyway. When I got home, Brad was set to go with our luggage, and our dads were waiting to take us to the airport.

I could barely make it to the baggage claim at LAX. My legs wouldn’t support me. As we walked out of the security area, I saw her. Cheryl was more beautiful than I could remember. Standing next to her was Adam, who was every bit the hunk she had described. He was a little over six feet tall. His eyes were blue and seemed to pierce right through me. His chin and his nose seemed chiseled by some great sculptor. His thick chestnut hair was in disarray and tousled all over his face. His body was that of an athlete.

Adam held little Aaron in his arms. He knew that Cheryl and I would want to embrace. Immediately I knew he was one thoughtful dude. Little Aaron looked like a Gerber baby, all red cheeked and blue eyed.

Finally, next to Adam, stood Benjamin. He was a little shorter than Adam but might yet grow taller. He was a clone of Adam, just a younger version.

My eyes devoured the look of this beautiful family, and at last Cheryl and I fell into each other’s arms sobbing and kissing. While we were lost in each other’s embrace. Brad was making Adam’s and Ben’s acquaintance.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/09/08