Black and White

All Disclaimers!

BLACK AND WHITE

Chapter 38-Revelations

"Dave, we gotta tell them," I whispered, not wanting to awaken our houseguests. Christmas was over. Carol and Duane were going home today.

He sighed. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. "We probably shouldn't have put it off as long as we did. They have a right to know."

"What do you think they'll say or do?" I asked.

"Depends on how we approach it and how we say it, I suppose," he answered, rolling over to face me. "This really bugs you, doesn't it?"

"Well, yeah, it does," I readily admitted. "I could be the father of at least one of those kids."

"You don't wanna be a daddy, Daddy?" Dave smiled, running his fingers through the hair on my chest.

"You missed the point," I leaned in, kissing him full on the lips. I grabbed his semi-hard cock and squeezed. "I want the same waiver that you signed, Dave," I added on a serious note, but not releasing the tight hold I had on his thickening cock. "And I want you to fuck me with this blunt instrument."

"I can give you the latter," he leered at me. "The former will have to come from Duane and Carol."

"First things first," I agreed. "You just lay right there while I service you."

"And just what is going through that nasty mind of yours, White Bread?" Dave asked as I twisted around and began to suck on his fat, long dick horn. "Gawd! I love your ass!" he sniffed, then stuck his tongue up my asshole. "FUCK!" he added. "You gotta have the prettiest, hottest, tastiest tail on the planet." He sighed before returning to his almost favorite activity (his favorite being fucking my ass). "Get that dick good and wet. I'm gonna fuck you so hard your teeth will rattle."

"Promises, promises," I breathed hotly. "Get that hole wet. I wanna see if I can take this monster up my ass without lube," I added, waving his black steel pipe over my tongue. Plunging it down my throat as far as I could take it, I knew I'd better get this butt rammer slick or I'd be in a world of hurt, literally! Dave's tongue was rimming, eating, and licking my ass like a starving man. His long tongue shot into my relaxed ass repeatedly. If he kept that up, I'd cum without even sitting on his fat dick.

"You eat my butt so well," I murmured around his thick cock, "that I could easily stroke off my hard dick with your tongue up my ass. It feels nearly as good as a hot fuck."

"Not on your life, Sugar," Dave protested, pushing my ass away. "Sit on my cock! I wanna BREED!"

Never one to pass up a big black cock that's eager for my ass, I spun around, grabbed his steely rod by the base and aimed it at my hungry hole. I had to rise up on my knees to get my butthole high enough to grasp the thick head of his leaking monster. He was as ready for this as I was. I willed my asshole to relax, trying to remember how good it felt when his tongue was deep inside me just moments earlier.

The flared head popped through my first ass ring, then the second. The heavy collar of his dickhead hit my prostate hard. I expelled the breath I'd been holding, relaxing again. Dave's hands touched my chest, working on my erect nips, sending shock waves of lust to my ass and hard, leaking cock. Another two inches of black pipe slid into my hungry ass.

"FUCK!" we said in unison. I opened my eyes and smiled down at Dave. His dreamy smile telegraphed his sexual desire for me. More inches slipped up my ass.

"This is so fuckin' good!" Dave exulted. "But, it can't last. I'm about ready to flood your hole," he warned. Grabbing my dick, he stroked my hard cock, spreading my precum over the entire shaft as his precum was coating my ass chute.

"As you can tell, I'm close too," I sighed as I made my dick jerk in his hand, and pulled my ass cheeks apart, swallowing more inches of obsidian scimitar. His coarse pubes brushed against my hard ass, then tickled my ass lips. His monster meat pulsed inside me as I ground down on his post nearly smashing his nuts, but his legs parted just in time to give his gonads more room. His hips thrust upwards, cramming the last inch into me.

One of Dave's big hands caressed one of my furry pex, fingers pulling on the hard nipple. His other hand stroked my swollen cock. Each thrust into my ass was answered by my thrust into his hand. The stimulation of three erogenous zones had me at a peak that I couldn't survive without a big climax.

Dave suddenly started to hammer my hole. The tortured look of an overwhelming climax was written boldly on his tensed face. I let my climax overtake me, too.

"FUCK! I'm CUMMING!" I roared. Dave rammed hard into my tortured ass, burying his 11" fuck stick deep inside me. I felt the fat head of his jerking cock swell and begin to upload his dick honey into my thirsty butt. He leaned forward, aiming my dick toward his mouth. A weak first squirt dribbled off the end of his tongue, but the next volley soared out of my semen launcher, drenching his lips, tongue, and oral cavity. With each climax wave, my ass tightened hard around the black ass invader. I felt Dave's hard cock swell even more as another sperm wave sprayed deeply up my ass.

Dave's climax had ripped away his ability to do anything more than fuck my welcoming asshole. His hand job on my dick had ceased. His mouth was still open in a silent yell, but his aim was trashed. Spraying my sperm over his face, neck, and chest, he was too caught up in breeding my butthole to lick my cum off his lips. Finally, his climax thrashing stopped. He licked his lips, swallowed, then, licked off his fingers, leaning in to suck the tip of my dick.

I pulled back from his attempted lip lock, but only managed to impale myself harder on to his still fucking cock. My climax had tightened my ass grip on his hard dick, making it even fatter and longer than usual. I wasn't complaining. It felt good to have Dave inside me.

"Damn!" Dave exclaimed. "You sure know how to milk my dick. I love your ass, Babe!" he punctuated nearly every word with another deep thrust into my hole. I continued milking his deep cock, but Dave was beyond his climax and my ass tunnel stroking his sensitive cock was more than he could tolerate. "STOP!" he begged. "I can't stand it!" he laughed. I wasn't giving up, so he tossed me off his lap like a sack of potatoes. I landed in a heap next to him, laughing.

"My ass is gonna be sore after a hot fuck like that," I admitted.

"We weren't fucking long enough for any kind of damaging friction," Dave pointed out. "Your ass is so fuckin' talented that I was nearly ready to cum before I got all the way in. And eating your ass always makes me hard and ready to shoot. I couldn't have been fucking you for more than a couple of minutes."

"And I loved every second of it," I giggled. "But, I'll still bet it'll be tender for a while."

We rolled out of bed and hit the shower. Dave examined my asshole closely to see if it were inflamed or reddened. It didn't seem to be, he'd said. But, just to be sure, he ate my ass. "Might as well while I'm here," he'd snickered. I wasn't about to turn down a chance to have my butt eaten by my favorite rimmer. Eating ass always made Dave's dick hard, so I blew him in the shower while he fingered my hole, again. This time, though, he fucked me with lube, taking his time to make love to me. When, he'd finished, I'd welcomed another big load of Dave's dick juice deep into my ass, while I sprayed the shower walls with my second load of climax starch.

Over breakfast, Dave steered the conversation to the twins that Carol was carrying. Clearly, Carol and Duane were excited about the addition to their family. Dave made a point of reminding them that Duane may not be the father.

"We've already plowed that ground, Dave," Duane reminded him. "You gettin' cold feet? A little late for that, doncha think?"

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that," Dave began. I knew this was my cue to jump in.

"You see, Duane, there's a remote chance that I could be the father, too." The stunned silence was deafening. I paused, wondering how to say what had to be said. "The condom broke," I blurted out. "It happens," I added weakly.

Dave jumped in. "It was only one time compared to the multiples of you and I, Duane. So, it is remote, but possible."

Carol smiled. "From a very selfish point of view, I'm okay with that. Mike is so damned cute. So, the babies will be really cute, taking after Mike and me!" she added with a laugh.

"Well, we don't know who the daddy is, Carol," Dave corrected. "Just the possibility of another one."

The silence stretched on. Duane was thinking about the possibilities. I couldn't read him.

Dave jumped in, again. "Okay, Duane. Spill it. Tell us what you're thinkin'."

Duane smiled, looked at each one of us for a moment. "I'm not sure what to think, Dave. This is a shocker! Mike's a great guy, so that's not the problem. I love him like a brother." He paused.

"We don't want to know what you should think," Carol chided him. "I wanna know what you feel, Honey. You can be honest here with your family. I'll bet I'm feeling some of the same things."

Duane smiled again, leaned over and kissed his wife. "You're so good for me, Carol."

"And you are the most understanding of all husbands, my love," Carol whispered. "Who else would have agreed to let his brother have sex with his own wife just to possibly make a baby? Most guys would have insisted on the old turkey baster! There were no guarantees that our baby weekend scheme was gonna be successful. So, tell me, Duane. What are you feeling?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Shocked. Stunned. Befuddled. But, we're gonna be parents. That's the anchor to all this. That's the point of our successful baby weekend." Duane turned to me. "Mike, I really meant it when I said you are like a brother to me. I love you like a brother. So," he paused, then sighed, "maybe you'll be more like a brother and a daddy," he smiled mischievously. Duane had been very clear on his last visit that I was a major sex daddy in his opinion. Now was not the time to pursue that line of logic.

"This is gonna take some getting used to," Duane continued. "Right now, it's only a possibility. It may not happen. But, we need to be honest about this. You should have the same waiver rights that Dave does, Mike." I was visibly relieved. "It's only fair."

"I agree," Carol beamed. "Welcome, again, to the family, Mike." She stood and embraced me. Duane also gave me a big hug, but managed to squeeze my ass in a more than friendly fashion.

"You sure are taking this well," I breathed. "I'm not sure what I'd have done in your situation.

"Even if Mike is the daddy for one of these kids, its not like we don't have white genes in our lineage," Dave observed.

"And with white genes in everyone's background, it shouldn't be obvious who the father is," I tried to add helpfully. "They'd still look like they belong to the parents."

"That's certainly true," Duane admitted. This was still bothering him. Perhaps, with time, he'd be more accepting of the possibility.

Dave put his arm around his brother. "Duane, you need time to get beyond this. I recognize that, and so does Mike. But, we didn't think you should be left in the dark. I know this came as a shock. Go with the flow, Duane. It'll be easier to deal with as time passes."

"Yeah, I know, Dave," Duane said going to Carol.

"You feeling betrayed?" Carol asked. She does get right to the point.

Duane looked up at her in shock. Bingo! Carol reads him like a large-type print book.

"Geez, Duane. I'm sorry," I apologized. "But, we can't unring the bell. I know how much you want children of your own. Would it make you feel any better to know that I don't have no known genetic disorders in my background?"

Duane nodded. "It helps," he sighed. "But, I really need time. That'll put this in perspective for me." He paused, then said, almost to himself, "I do want these kids. Twins makes their birth even more significant to me. He looked up at me. "Mike, don't worry about it. This is my issue and I'm sure it'll be fine. I just need time."

I smiled back at him, then hugged him, again. "Carol, you do have the most understanding of husbands." I slid my hand over the round, hard curve of his ass, then squeezed his right bun. He smiled back at me.

"Perhaps, it'd be best," Dave suggested, "that you not have the babies tested for paternity after they're born. Lack of knowledge might be easier to deal with, Duane."

"No," Duane sighed. "I'd always wonder. And that'd be more difficult than knowing."

"Just a suggestion," Dave deferred.

"So," I brightened. "How about breakfast? I'm starved."

The change of subject was welcome. The daddy subject couldn't be resolved in the next few minutes, hours, or days. Duane would have to deal with it on his time schedule, and so would Carol, despite her protestations to the contrary. This was a bombshell for both of them.

The drive to the airport was quiet. We each had our own thoughts to mull over. As their flight was called, Duane came over to me, giving me a big hug. "I think I love you as much as I love my brother," he smiled. "Although I haven't gotten over the shock of it all, I'd love to have you be the father of my children. You are such a hot, loving man. The kids couldn't have done better if they'd been able to pick out their own daddies."

"Thanks, Duane," I mumbled. I didn't know what to say. He grasped my butt cheek and squeezed. "You just wanna fuck my ass again, doncha?"

He smiled, then kissed me on the lips. And it wasn't a chaste, brotherly kiss, either. "You bet your sweet ass, I do!" Duane moved away and gave his brother the same treatment. When he pulled away and turned toward the gate, I saw that his 9" boner was making a very large mound in his trousers and down his right leg. I was wondering, again, how he could be a good husband and father when he loved men so much.

We waved to them as they entered the jetway. "Duane seems to have gotten beyond some of the daddy problem, " I observed. Dave nodded. "Did he grope your ass and give you a tongue kiss, too?"

Dave smiled lasciviously. "You know it. He's a bigger pervert than we are," he laughed.

"I could have handled the daddy thing better. It was a helluva shock to them," I observed.

"Naw, you did fine," Dave soothed. "There's no good way to introduce that topic into polite conversation. Frank and direct. Works best most of the time."

"Perhaps," I allowed, walking through the last concourse to the car. "I sure didn't wanna go back over all the details that it happened while I was fucking his wife. I knew that'd instantly bring up all kinds of betrayal issues and slap him in the face with them."

"True enough." Dave paused as if trying to remember something. "Oh, Carol asked me to draw up the papers for you to sign about the paternity, sometime this week, if that's okay with you," Dave revealed.

"The sooner, the better." I let the silence drag on for a while before I dropped another bomblet. Dave unlocked his car, sliding into the driver's seat. "You know, Dave," I began, "an occupational hazard of being in the health field gives me access to lots of new studies and data."

"Yeah?" he asked, knowing this was going somewhere "interesting". The car smoothly joined traffic on the freeway.

"There's more than an even chance that I'm gonna be the father of one or more of those babies," I announced.

"Shit! Really?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "I thought it unwise to reveal that tidbit during the paternity discussions."

"What makes you think that your sperm are better at fertilizing than mine or even (remotely) Duane's?"

"When a woman has multiple partners, the guy there with the most recent ejaculate fights off the sperm of the less recent. Unless the first guy has fast sperm and the egg is ready for fertilization, his chances of fathering a child are much less than 50%," I finished.

"This a fact?"

"Yep, according to the studies, anyway," I shrugged.

"Wow!" Dave exclaimed. "Happy Father's Day, Mike!"

"Not exactly the reassurance I was looking for," I bristled.

"Get over yourself, Mike," Dave chided. I glared at him. "You never wanted to be a father, passing on your genes?"

I was taken aback. "Not like this!" I exploded.

"Look, you were married once upon a time, just like me," Dave pointed out. "Don't tell me that you and your wife never fucked."

"That's different."

"How? Enlighten me."

"To begin with, we were married!"

"Lame! What's really eatin' you?"

I stared at him. "I gave up the daddy thing when I got divorced. Now, it's hit me right in the kisser."

"Sounds to me like you have some unresolved issues about this as deep as Duane's," Dave suggested.

"Don't you get it!? I'm probably gonna be a daddy!"

"Me, too, Sweet Cheeks!"

"But, more probably, me."

"If the studies hold true."

"Yeah, I know you're still in the running, Dave," I said. "But, still, they are more probably mine."

"You don't know that for sure. How much less than 50% for the first guy?"

"I don't truly recall. Just less than 50%."

"See. It could be all mine!"

"Statistically, yes. But, playing the odds, not likely."

"Okay, so what's really the problem?" Dave asked again.

I stared, again. He's determined to get to the bottom of this issue for me. I sighed heavily. "Okay. How do I explain this to my family? My parents will be thrilled that their boy is gonna be a daddy. But, they'll freak when they find out their grandchild is black!"

"Ah, that."

"Yeah, fucking THAT!"

"Mike! Chill! Your parents like me and know I'm black. They aren't racists."

"You don't know them like I do. Having a black friend is not the same as having black babies!"

"How do ya know that?" he challenged me. "You're putting words in their mouths. Besides, whose gonna spill the beans?"

"This kinda thing can't be left unsaid. I'd probably spill the beans myself!"

"We'll cross that bridge IF we come to it. Stop fretting about the future. It'll take care of itself. You aren't a daddy, yet!"

"But, Dave.." I protested.

"But, nothing!" Dave nearly shouted at me. "Give them some credit! Even if one or both of these kids are yours, I've never heard of a grandparent who didn't dote on their grandkids, regardless of color."

"I hope you're right. I don't know how they'll react. But, being in a "white" State like Utah, they'll not have many good examples to reference."

"That's better," Dave smiled. "Give them a chance. They're good people. They'll do the right thing."

They were that. Despite the fact that their only son was a fag, they were still supportive of me, and my relationship with Dave.

By now, we were home. This had been an exhausting weekend. I was ready for something mindless. We watched some television, Dave sitting beside me, holding my hand. Several friends called suggesting a hot time in bed with them, but I just wasn't up for it. Dave made the apologies, but promised another time would be more suitable. I hated turning down the coaches, Ron from Costco and his lover, Robocop, Kurt, Robert, Will, Steve's sons, even Cousin Larry. Nice to be popular, I thought.

I made a mental note, and asked Dave to remind me to call Steve to see how he and Brad were doing. That promising relationship was gonna be tough with them living in separate cities.

Dave fixed dinner, but continued to press me on my daddy issue. I finally admitted that I needed time to get beyond this, just like Duane did. Talking through it helped enormously. Dave was a good listener and a better interrogator. He'd call bullshit when I was not being honest with myself and with him. I'm a lucky man to have such a good man as my partner, I concluded.

Uncle Clay

After dinner, Dave reminded me that I was going to call my Uncle Clay. Clay's given name was Carey West Claiborne, but went by his nickname Clay. Clay was my dad's younger brother, a black sheep, and a scandal to the family. For all those reasons, I admired him greatly. He'd been my favorite uncle from the time I was a child. Always laughing, always with great presents for his favorite nephew, and always mysterious. The family didn't talk about him much around the children, but when they did, it was in veiled whispers that we children weren't supposed to hear. By my mid-teens, I knew what the mysterious secret was. Uncle Clay was a fag!

When I discovered (and admitted to myself that I was queer), Uncle Clay was whom I turned to for support. On my 18th birthday, Uncle Clay sent me round-trip tickets to visit him at his home in Las Vegas. He and his partner, Lincoln, were glad to see me, taking me to all the casinos and gay nightspots. They even gave me money to gamble with (which I wasn't supposed to save, but spend freely). I had the best time with them, gambling, eating, drinking (scandal!), and meeting hot men.

Clay and Linc had a closed relationship, so they didn't hit on me at all while I was there. I was very disappointed, thinking I was an ugly duckling. After they explained what a closed relationship was, I wasn't feeling ignored. I only admired them more. That's what I decided I wanted, too. However, that didn't work out so well with my former lover, so I got a hard lesson in reality.

But, while I was in Las Vegas, I was the "belle of the ball". Uncle Clay introduced me to several of the handsome, buff dancers from the casino revues. My dance card was full of hot men who wanted to wish me a very happy birthday. Each one extracted multiple squirts of my creamy teen cum into their hard butts and sucking throats.

Uncle Clay was nearly ten years younger than my father. That made him twelve years older than me. Now, at 45, he was a remarkably preserved "old" guy. I should look so good when I get to that age.

I explained all this to Dave as I looked for my address book. I finally located it in a stack of Christmas cards that needed a change of address for future correspondence.

"Uncle Clay sounds like quite a man," Dave smiled.

"The daddy genes come from him," I revealed. "I've always thought of him as handsome and sexy as hell, even when I was a kid and didn't know what that meant."

"What about Linc?"

"Oh, did I fail to mention?" I smiled innocently. "Linc's black!"

"I love a story with a happy ending."

"Now, you understand why the family was scandalized," I laughed. "But, over the years and with the stable relationship they have, the family has come around some. And that nice Mormon family had to deal with the queer thing as well as color. Remember that this was before the Church changed its standard about Blacks and the priesthood."

"Yeah, I vaguely recall that," Dave mused. "Do they not visit the family in Utah very much, then?"

"Only when my grandparents were alive," I said. "They keep in contact via phone, Internet, etc., but hardly ever visit. They just don't have anything in common, anymore."

"How'd your grandparents deal with the `issues'?"

"Better than the rest of the family. But, through their kind example, the rest of the family did come around. They can be such tight asses sometimes!"

"We all have blinders on to some issues, Mike," Dave allowed.

"Yeah, I suppose," I agreed, dialing the phone. After four rings, the answering machine clicked in. I left a message, wishing them a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I tantalized them with a thinly veiled reference to major gossip about the family that we needed to share.

"What kind of gossip?" Dave asked eavesdropping on my conversation.

"Us, my love!"

"Oh, that's old news."

"Not to them," I smirked. "I'm sure the rest of the family hasn't blabbed. I can't believe I haven't called them before with news about us." I smiled at Dave. "But, you divert me and fill my days, not to mention my well-fucked ass."

Dave laughed. "And mine, too!"

"How'd you like a hot piece of white tail right about now," I leered.

"I've always wanted to fuck you on the dining room table," Dave revealed suggestively.

I dashed upstairs, grabbed the lube and a couple of towels, tossing clothes off as I went. Back to the dining room, I found Dave, nude and hard. "Give me those," he commanded, holding his hand out. "And bend over the table!"

"Yes, Sir!" I eagerly complied, bending at the waist and pulling my asscheeks apart with my broad hands.

"DAYUM! What a hot fuckin' ass!" Dave beamed. His tongue snaked up my ass in an instant. I moaned with appreciation, knowing what I wished for so much was soon to be granted. One of Dave's big hands stroked my hard cock while the other massaged my round, white ass. I pulled my ass cheeks farther apart, pushing my muscled ass back into his face. "Fuck! YEAH!" Dave whispered as he stood, aiming his hard, curved butt splitter at my gaping opening. Squirting a blob of lube on his dickhead, he pressed hard against my asshole.

I relaxed and welcomed him inside. "FUCK!" I moaned. Several more inches of hot dick slid into my ass tunnel. Dave leaned over my back, kissing my neck, and began to fuck me, going deeper with each thrust. "Fuck!" I repeated. "You are so fuckin' big! I never get over how fuckin' huge you are, Dave."

"Shut up and take it like a man," he growled.

I pushed back into him, burying his big pole completely. "Like this?"

"Like THIS!" he emphasized, ramming in hard by pulling my hips into his groin. I smacked into the tabletop and sprawled across it. Dave mounted me higher, pushing in more inches. He hammered my ass, making the table groan and creak with each deep thrust. He suddenly pulled out.

"Hey!" I protested.

"Flip over on your back. I wanna watch your face while I pump you full of my hot load," Dave directed. Liking his idea, I quickly laid out on my back, my legs over his broad shoulders, and my ass hanging over the edge of the polished table. Dave quickly inserted his randy dick in one determined motion and started fucking. Damn, that man can fuck!

Dave leaned in and kissed me, passionately. Breaking the kiss, he spiked me repeatedly, bouncing the table on the carpet. I reached up with both hands and tweaked his erect nips. His eyes closed in deep pleasure, a smile creasing his handsome face. He smiled down at me. "You keep doing that and I'll cum too soon. I wanna watch you cum while I fuck you. Grab my ass, instead," he offered.

His curved, hard cock was savagely massaging my prostate. I grabbed his hard, milk chocolate ass with both hands and urged him deeper and faster. If he kept fucking me like that and at that pace, I'd squirt my load without touching my dick. Knowing full well that the direct connection between my erect nips and my dick would set me off, Dave twisted my nips and pumped hard into me. My grasping hands encouraged him to fuck deep and go faster.

"You want my hot load up your tight ass, doncha, Stud?"

"Fuck, yeah! Hammer that hungry hole!"

Dave fucked and bucked and screwed my ass deep and fast. I wanted to grab my bouncing, jerking dick and bring myself off, but I wanted his hard dick to make me cum, instead. Dave pleasured me as only he could. My nips were being mauled. My ass was heavily pistoned, as I met each hard thrust. My cock was crying out for release. I could feel the climax waves building from my toes and fingers. Even the tip of my nose tingled. My climax was not to be denied.

"I'm gonna cum in your ass, Man! Can't hold back. Gotta let fly! Take it, Mike! FUCK!"

"Flood my hole! Fuck, Dave! I'm gonna cum! FUCK ME! HARD!"

I pulled hard on his ass, crushing his hips into my muscled butt, grinding his blasting dick deeply into me. The jerk of his cock deep inside me told me that he was cumming. The look on his tortured face confirmed it.

My dick jerked and spewed the creamy contents of my heavy nuts, coating my hairy chest in a random, starchy-white pattern. Dave continued to pound my ass, going for maximum pleasure and depth, spraying my stretched ass walls with heavy ropes of sperm. His eyes opened as the last waves of his climax receded. My dick leaked out the last drops of sperm. Dave smiled at me, then bent and licked up my spent load, leaving spit curls of saliva and cum.

I pulled hard on his ass, plunging his relaxing dick back deeply inside me. "You sure can fuck," I observed breathlessly.

The phone rang.

"Shit!" Dave cursed.

"Let the answering machine pick it up. You still have a big cock to drain in my ass," I smiled up at him.

"Sure," he smiled back as he leaned over and kissed me again. "I'll never be able to eat on this table again without smiling and thinking about our hot sex here."

"I'm okay with that. But, the surface is harder than I thought it'd be for sex."

Dave laughed at me. "You were expecting it to suddenly get comfortable?"

"Didn't really think about it while we were fuckin'," I said. "Just now after the fact."

Dave pulled out, much to my chagrin. "Let's shower and hit the sack. Tomorrow's a `school day', ya know," he pointed out.

I could have done without the reminder that tomorrow was Monday, but we could both use the shower before we got into bed. While Dave adjusted the water temperature, I played back the phone message. It was Uncle Clay. He was bubbling over with questions about the family gossip. I'd return the call after our shower.

Much as I tried to molest Dave again in the shower, he pushed me away, giggling. "You looking to get pregnant, too?"

"I like your big dick in my ass," I pouted. "Besides, I feel the need to bond with you now that both of us might be Daddies."

"Uh huh," Dave muttered. "You got something else going on in that pervert brain of yours," he laughed as I grabbed his exposed trouser snake. "And leave that alone. You'll wear it out."

"Not likely," I rejoined.

Dave grabbed me and tossed me on to the bed. "Sit! Stay!" he barked, laughing again.

"If I roll over, will you fuck me, again?"

"Stop already," he laughed again. Dave sat on my abs and held my shoulders down. Being careful not to be too far back and get my hardening dick up his ass, nor too far forward for me to suck his dick, he said, "Serious time, Mike. We gotta talk about what's buggin' ya."

Serious Talk

"Like what?" I asked innocently.

"This whole Daddy think has you freaked out."

"You're reading too much into this, Dave." I squirmed beneath him. Was he right? Was I being weird about being a father?

"Am I?" Dave questioned. "You've been sexually aggressive with me for weeks now, like you are trying to prove something (not that I'm complaining, you understand). But, it just isn't like you. The whole discussion with Carol and Duane was surreal. You sounded more like you were convincing yourself, instead of them. And this whole charade about your parents and family and how they'd react. What a crock!"

I stared at him blankly. He was getting heavy, so I squirmed again. I tried to toss him off as easily as he threw me on to the bed. He didn't budge. "I'm not moving until you come clean, Mike."

"Okay, already," I finally agreed. "We'll talk about it, if you insist. But, move! You're squashing me, Miss Piggy!" I laughed.

"Moi?" he squealed in a perfect imitation of the legendary Muppet. I burst out laughing. It was so like Dave to do that to me when I couldn't move. He moved off.

"Okay. This is your topic," I started. "I'm too close to the problem to see it, evidently. Help me out. What do you think's going on inside my head?"

"I think you can't reconcile being a father and a fag. It's that Mormon upbringing and Utah culture that's coming back to haunt you," he smiled. Pretty perceptive of him, I thought. "And I think you may have an issue with fathering a black child," he said with a smile.

"Dave! What an ugly thing to say!" I snarled at him. My hands were clenched into fists. Was I going to hit him? Or, was I mad at myself, because there could be some truth to what he'd said?

"I'm sorry, Mike. But, it had to be said. Racism has all kinds of disguises and degrees." I couldn't believe he was accusing ME of being a racist. I glared at him. I was genuinely hurt that he would say such a hateful thing to me. "This kind of soul searching needs to happen before the babies are born, Mike. You okay if we examine it together?"

"I'm so mad at you right now, I'm not sure I can," I admitted between clenched teeth.

"I'll take that as a `yes'. The first thing you have to do is recognize we all have some nasty opinions in our heads that we don't act on or ever speak of. Ignorant, prejudiced, bigoted hypocrites have dumped them there. Those dark thoughts aren't the Mike I love. But, I know they're there. I have my own unthinking, hateful, bigoted dark places, too, Mike. But, I hope you and I are enlightened, civilized humans who don't allow those hateful words to surface. Now, tell me, honestly. Was fathering a black child hard to come to terms with? Honestly?"

"Well, yeah," I cautiously admitted. "I thought about it briefly, but concluded I'd love the child because he's mine."

"He?" Dave laughed.

"Sure! If I'm gonna be a Daddy, I want a boy," I confessed.

"Okay, what other things buzzed through your mind?"

"Shit, Dave! The whole nine yards. These kids are gonna to have a tough time of it because of the color of their skin. I wouldn't wish that on anyone in this bigoted society. Especially, not MY child!"

"Can't change that, Mike. That's just the way things are right now."

"Oh, yes I can. I can be sure they get all the advantages I can give them as any parent would. And I'd be there to dry their tears when some ignorant kid says something hateful they heard at home about black people. But at the same time, I know I won't be there for them because I'm not Duane and Carol. I feel helpless to help."

"That's quite a stream of consciousness, but we seem to be talking around the point," Dave said. "Let me try another way. You said you'd briefly thought about what it would mean to you to father a black child. Are you sure you've really dealt with that?"

"Well, I think I have, Dave. What are you driving at? Understand I'm not trying to put the rock in your pocket, but I think you have issues about a white guy fathering a black child. That make you some kind of racist, too?"

Dave smiled. "Trying to catch me at my own game?"

"If the shoe fits.."

Dave smiled. "I'm a proud, Black man, Mike. Black Pride is genuine and dear to me. But, there are Black extremists, just like there are White ones. And, taken to the extreme by either one, it can become racism just as ugly as the far-right wingers do it and just as subtle."

"Okay," I smiled. I relaxed my mad posture, happy to see that we both needed to carefully examine what we truly thought of being the probable biological father of twins. "We both have ugly, nasty tapes running through our heads that we're attempting to erase. But, they keep coming back. Does that make us bad persons or racists because there's a chance of a mixed race child? Isn't this moot? You're a mixed race child, so are Duane and Carol."

"Its moot, but does it matter? What we feel deeply inside is what matters, not whether it makes sense," Dave argued.

"It matters if we're trying to beat this to death, but I think we're making a mountain out of nothing. The DNA testing will reveal their biological fathers and that will settle it. And we'll both have to deal with it when it happens. I may be their biological father, but not the one that they'll look up to and call Daddy. I won't be more than the sperm donor. The difference from the ordinary sperm donor is that I'll know the parents and probably the babies, because I'm not planning on dumping you!"

"Okay, I'll drop it," Dave agreed. "However, I think you do have issues around this which may not relate to race, too. Are you feeling less gay because you may be a father, so you're getting fucked in the ass more to prove that you're gay?"

"What a crazy question!" I blustered. "That's like being a little pregnant. You either are, or you aren't."

"Okay, okay," Dave backed off. "I give in!"

"As long as you don't give up, Dave. You're seeing something that I'm not. Perhaps, you're overly sensitive, and perhaps, I'm hiding something even from myself. But don't give up on me. I should be pressed on things like this. I can't get comfortable in my little world and the elaborate screens and constructs I create to hide the truth from both of us."

"Nor can I," Dave admitted. "We'll have to keep each other honest. But, I do think we need to keep working on our respective issues about race. Or being a fag and a daddy."

"Well, I know a lot of men who are both fags and daddies, but not in that order. Look at Steve, for instance," I pointed out.

"He's had to struggle with it, including hiding his true nature from the rest of his family," Dave observed. "Are we hiding our true natures by not closely examining our vague racist views that we've buried deeply, but still possess?"

"Dave," I sighed, "we aren't racists, even though we have these buried ideas. And before you challenge me, I'm the first to admit that racism has all kinds of disguises and degrees. By not acting upon a racist story, joke, or observation, we're condoning it. I'll not debate that point. We're on the same side of the issue."

"Perhaps, this is just an awareness raising for both of us," Dave mused. "I think I'm only asking that our motives be honest. I'm not sure we'll ever resolve this one. Our lives and opinions aren't a TV program that resolves and closes all issues neatly within 30 minutes (including the inane commercials)."

"Fair enough," I smiled. "And you did your job well, Counselor. You've made me look honestly at my feelings and not just glaze over them. This was good for me and my Utah upbringing."

"Well, I could have handled it better, Mike," he said. "You are ready to punch me out back there." I smiled. "Yeah, I can still read you pretty well," he laughed.

"At least, you called me on it. That's progress in any relationship," I suggested. "But, getting me mad may not have been the best approach," I admitted. "Still, it was effective."

Dave grabbed me in a bear hug and kissed me. "Getting both of us to work on it is the desired end result."

"Damn!" I exclaimed, breaking his grip. "I forgot to call Uncle Clay." I rolled over and picked up the bedside phone. Dave rubbed my ass with his broad hands, dipping his index finger into my hairy ass trench. "Excuse me!" I said sternly. "Who's the guy with sexually aggressive issue, now?"

"You got a hot ass, Mike," he smiled. "I can't resist it."

"Yeah, sure," agreed sarcastically as the phone in Las Vegas rang a second time. Uncle Clay picked it up as Dave's tongue slipped into my ass crack. I clamped my ass shut, hoping he'd get the hint, but he wanted to make this a phone call that Uncle Clay would find memorable. Hoping to embarrass Dave into stopping, I told Clay quickly about my news about a new lover, adding that his tongue was in my ass at that very moment. Clay only laughed heartily and said that it was one of Linc's favorite things to do, too.

Dave snorted lustily, spearing my asshole with his tongue, knowing I couldn't hold out long. With renewed energy, he ate my ass like he'd discovered comfort food. Uncle Clay and I tried to carry on a conversation, but Dave had me so distracted that I'm sure Clay thought I was an idiot.

Finally, Clay said, "Look, you're busy. Why don't you call me back when you're finished and we'll discuss you and Dave coming down to Las Vegas for New Years?" I only moaned out an acknowledgement. "But, don't call back too soon. Dave's got the right idea and I'm gonna get Linc to do the same here."

I hung up the phone as Dave added lube to my ass chute and slid the first thick inches of his hard cock up my hungry ass. "You realize that you'll have to make love to me, now," I whispered. "Uncle Clay says he's gonna get some of this from Linc, so take your time before we call him back and discuss New Year's there," I groaned out as more inches disappeared.

"Oh, yeah?" Dave whispered in my ear. "New Year's in Las Vegas? I'll bet my dick goes in your ass even better there."

"How could it get better than this?" I asked, grabbing his round butt cheeks and pulling him deeply into me.

"We'll figure out something, I'm sure," Dave responded as he began long-dicking my eager ass.

This story is not a soap opera or a sitcom. Easy solutions to tough questions don't happen in real life, either. I didn't tie the racism issue up in a nice package with a big bow for you. But, I did bring it up, so YOU could think about it. Comments to gymhunk@msn.com