If Love Were All

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.

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IF LOVE WERE ALL

by

Ritch Christopher

with literary enhancement by

Les Martin

Chapter Seven

"BERSERK!"

Needless to say, after Ted's sudden intrusion into Buddy's bedroom, Clint knew it was time for a quick exit. His and Buddy's friendship was not finished, but neither was their first sex act together. That would or would not be finished for some time to come. Buddy walked Clint downstairs to the back door in the kitchen where Clint had parked his car. They didn't kiss good-night and, thought they never had even shaken hands while parting, they gave one another a quick hug and Clint left...still laughing about the ants.

Marc's door was still closed. Buddy saw no sign of his dad so he assumed that Ted was with Toby in Toby's bedroom. As he climbed the stairs, Buddy knew that his action with Clint would be more difficult to explain to his kid brother than to his dad. He had no idea what to say to Toby, but thought that if he shifted the focus to Toby's masturbation embarrassment, some of the pressure could be removed from Buddy's shoulders. Buddy quietly tapped on Toby's door.

"Dad?" Buddy said, just above a whisper.

"He's not in here," Toby replied.

"Do you know where he is, Tobe?"

"No, I just know he's not in here with me."

"Then can I come in?"

"What for?"

"I told you that I would come talk with you after Clint left."

"Is Clint gone?"

"Yeah."

"Good! I hope he never comes back!"

Buddy could see now that he had a lot of damage to repair with Toby.

"Can I come in now?"

"OK..."

Buddy entered Toby's bedroom and closed the door. Toby was on his bed facing away from the door which made it impossible for Buddy to read Toby's face.

"Come on, scout, let's talk!" Buddy said. "We've both had a miserable day! Heck, I guess our whole family has."

Toby remained silent.

"Tobe, have you seen Mom or spoken to her since...?"

"No, and I don't want to...not ever again."

Buddy sat on the side of Toby's bed and reached out his hand to touch Toby's arm. "Come on, now...think how shocked Mom was when she walked in on you."

"Yeah? Think how I must've felt when she caught me!"

"I know. You had good reason to be embarrassed and humiliated, but it's not the end of the world. I mean, heck, you and Dad just caught me doing something worse. Don't you think I feel more embarrassed?"

"What were you and Clint doing?" Toby asked, accusingly while rolling over to face Buddy.

"What did you see? What did it look like we were doing?"

"It looked horrible! I turned away as quick as I could! You and Clint both had your...your things in each other's mouths! Is that what gay people do?"

"Who said anything about gay people?"

"You and Clint and Dad. I heard all three of you talking in the kitchen. I heard you say that you were gay."

"I...I suppose I am, Tobe."

"How did you get that way?"

"I don't think it just happened...I guess I've been gay all my life. I just didn't know I was."

"What if I am and don't know about it yet?"

"Toby, I don't think you're at all gay. I don't think you have the grown-up feelings yet to know if you are or aren't. You don't look at other boys the way I did when I was twelve..."

"You started looking at boys when you were my age?"

"Yeah, but not really sexual, if you know what I mean? I didn't know about sex until three years later. You had a head start on me and Marc, too. You... you had your first...first 'orgasm' at wrestling practice last week while you're twelve years old. I didn't have my first until I was nearly fifteen."

"Yeah, but what about the fact that I had mine when I was on top of Jimmy? He's a boy and I'm a boy...doesn't that count? I mean, doesn't that mean I'm gay?"

"No, baby boy, you were just ready to unload what you needed to. It could've happened even if you had been wrestling a pig or an elephant! You don't like Jimmy specially, do you? I mean like you'd like some girl?"

"No, I really hate Jimmy!"

"What happened wasn't Jimmy's fault...nor was it yours. It could easily have happened to Jimmy as it did to you. That wouldn't've been your fault, would it?"

"...no."

"So there's really no reason for you to hate Jimmy, is there?"

"No, I guess not...but I still don't like him like he was a girl."

"That's good, Tobe. It just means you're not gay and have no gay feelings for Jimmy."

"Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"If Mom gets to feeling better...do you think she'll punish me for what I was doing?"

"Did you tell Dad what Mom caught you doing?"

"Yeah..."

"Did he say anything about his wanting to punish you?"

"Well...no..."

"Then I wouldn't worry about Mom. There's lots worse things she could've caught you doing that she surely would have punished you for..."

"Like what?"

"Oh...downloading naked girls' pictures from the Internet. Smoking a cigarette...worse still, marijuana...drinking a beer or some other kind of liquor...cheating on a test at school...stealing something from Wal-Mart... telling lies...all kinds of bad things."

"Are all those things worse than masturbating?"

"In my opinion...yes!"

"Then I guess I've got a long way to go."

"Hold it! I never want you to even THINK about doing those things. It's all right and perfectly normal for a guy to masturbate. There's no law against it and there's no age limit on doing it. It's only when you get careless and forget to lock your door where someone can catch you. That's when it becomes a problem."

"You forgot to lock your door too, didn't you?"

"Yep! I guess I did."

"Do you think Dad will punish you?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm more worried about how you feel about me now. I'm wondering if you're gonna punish me by steering clear of me...or being afraid to hop in bed and ask me to hold you. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you...and believe me, baby brother, I'd never try anything with you like I was doing with Clint..."

"What you were doing with Clint...is that against the law?"

"I'm sure it is in certain states, but not in Massachusetts."

"I guess you're pretty lucky, too."

"I guess we're both lucky to have a dad like ours."

"What about MOM?"

"She'll come around, Tobe, just give her a little time. Dad'll talk to her and ease your situation."

"What do you think's gonna happen to Marc?"

"That, I don't know, Tobe."

"Did he and Sandy break a law?"

"Indirectly, I guess they did."

"Do you think Mr. Sholler will come looking for Marc with a gun?"

"I hope not. Dad and I'll stop him!"

"Yeah, but what if you or Dad gets shot, too?"

"Don't worry about that, Toby. It's not gonna happen."

"Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I could go on living without you..."

"You won't have to...I'm fine. I'm not going to leave you. You'll leave me first when you go off to college."

"If college means leaving you, then I'm not going."

"Oh, yes you will. By that time, you'll have finished junior high and then high school. You'll be a big high school jock with the prettiest girlfriend in the world...a cheerleader, maybe...and you'll be slipping around trying to find some place to go to have sex with her. Of course, when that time comes, Mom WILL have something to worry about."

"I'm never going to have sex with a girl!"

"Oh, when your hormones start raging, by the time you're sixteen or seventeen, you'll be wanting to have sex with lots of girls! Just wait! You'll see!"

"Buddy?"

"What?"

"After what I did today in front of Mom...and after I saw you with Clint..."

"Yes?"

"Do you still love me?"

"That's a dumb question! I'll always love you. I'd love you if you were locked up in some prison. You'd still be my brother and I'd love you no matter what!"

"That makes me feel a whole lot better...because I love you, too."

"You didn't have to say it. I know it!"

"If I rolled over with my back to you, would you hold me the way you do at night?"

"You feel like you need to be held?"

"Uh huh..."

"Then I suppose you do. Roll over."

Toby rolled over and eased his back into Buddy's front, assuming their favorite spoon position. Buddy put his arm over Toby and drew him closer.

"There? Is that what you wanted? Feel better?"

"Yeah...lots...thanks."

Both closed their eyes to escape their earlier predicaments and they were relaxing into a dreamy sleep just as Toby's door opened.

"OH MY LORD!" Lisa screamed. "BUDDY! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING TO YOUR BABY BROTHER? GET OUT OF THAT BED AND AWAY FROM TOBY AT ONCE...YOU...YOU NASTY PERVERT! NASTY! NASTY! NASTY! TED, COME HERE AND LOOK AT THIS!!!"

Ted walked from his bedroom in despair..."Now what?"

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Scott arrived at his house and decided to enter the back door thorough his kitchen to avoid Kathy, if that were at all possible...But it wasn't, because she was waiting for him as soon as he opened the door.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," he greeted her in his best Desi Arnaz imitation.

"Scott, you don't have to come a step closer, I can smell the whiskey on your breath from where I'm standing."

"Aw, come on, Kat, I had one measly little drink!"

"That's seems to have become a nightly ritual."

"Kat, most men and women in normal households have a cocktail hour before dinner."

"Then I guess our family is abnormal...or at least I am...on second thought, you're the only one who's been acting strangely abnormal around here."

"Where are the boys?"

"In the dining room, waiting for you to arrive so that I can serve them dinner."

"Then let's get to serving, woman!"

"Scott, you're not going around those children smelling like a whiskey tankard."

'I...I'll go upstairs, brush my teeth, gargle, and then come down for dinner."

"I'd prefer it if you wouldn't get near them with that stuff in your system."

"Jesus Christ, Kathy! I had one watered-down scotch, not a whole fucking bottle."

"THERE! And I don't want you using that kind of language around them!"

"I don't...only around you when it becomes necessary."

"Scott, I don't know what's brought about this sudden drastic change in you, but while you were at band practice, I did some thinking..."

"Well, that's a sudden drastic change in you!"

"Scott, I've decided that it might be best for the boys and me if the three of us went to be with my parents for a while."

"Kathy, that's utter nonsense!"

"I'm serious...it might be good for you...until you find out why you've been acting so strangely."

"Kathy, if I didn't know better, I'd say you had another man in your life."

"Not at the moment, but there might come a time..."

"Bullshit! You can't find a man who has balls bigger than yours, Kathy!. Hell, the biggest man in recorded history was Goliath in the Bible and he'd have lost to you if the two of your compared testicles."

"Scott, would you not raise your voice! The boys can probably hear every word you're saying."

"Good, boy's are never too young to learn who's supposed to be boss in the family and it's suppose to be the husband who wears a jockstrap."

"Too bad you never tried one on! Band directors don't wear athletic equipment."

"Better still, Kathy, why don't you go down to one of the gay bars and pick you out a nice bull dike. Maybe she could satisfy you as you've seemed to lock me out of your bed for over a year."

"A bull dike!"

"Well, a dike at least."

Bobby walked in from the dining room to see his dad, just in time to hear the last two remarks of his parents.

"Hiya, Dad!

"Hi, baby! Come give your dad a big kiss!"

"Scott, I'm warning you..."

Bobby ran as fast as he could and jumped into his dad's arms and kissed him on the mouth.

"Shoooweee, Dad, what's that on your breath."

"It's new flavored Listerine mouthwash, son."

"You mean like the one on the TV where the mother brings home a new bottle and the daddy and the kids all run and hide?"

"That's the one, son."

"No wonder that little boy climbs all the way to the ceiling and hides in the chandelier. I don't blame him."

"I'm sorry, Bobby, I'll run upstairs and gargle with a different flavor. They we can have dinner, OK?"

"OK, Dad."

Scott gave Kathy a sneer and she returned it with a 'drop-dead' look at him. Just before Scott left the kitchen to go upstairs, Bobby asked, "Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"What's a dike?"

"A what?"

"You said something to mom that she ought to have a dike."

Folding her arms and smirking, "Yes, Scott, tell your son what a dike is..."

"Well, let's see..."

"Bobby's waiting for an answer, Scott."

"Well, I guess I got my cities mixed up. You remember the other night when we were looking at the big Random House book on European sights?"

"Yes."

"And I showed you and Skip pictures of a town in Germany called Duesseldorf...in Germany?"

"Yea, the one with the big church steeples."

"That's it. Well, you see there's another town on the opposite end of Germany. It's like a twin city to Duesseldorf, only it's called "Dykendorf." People who live in Duesseldorf are called "duzzies" and people from Dykendorf are called 'Dykes'. Now Dykendorf is famous for having terrific maids and housekeepers and just before you came in, I was telling your mother she ought to get herself a new housekeeper to help her out...in other words, one of the best, a dike."

"Wow, wait until I tell my kindergarten teacher that my mom's getting a new dike to live with us."

"Oh, dear God, I give up..." Kathy said as she dropped her head to return to the dining room to be with Skip.

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Burt Sholler's car was in the driveway by the time Liz returned from the Browne house with Sandy.

"Your father's home, young lady!" Liz said. "Now I want you to march right into the house and tell him what you've done and what a mess you've made of your life as well as his and mine."

"Mom, do I have to?" Sandy replied, tearfully.

"You've jumped into the middle of a sea of troubles, so now it's your turn to sink or swim...but don't expect any sympathy from me...and any way that your father chooses to punish you, just remember you deserve it."

Liz got out of the car and slammed the driver's door. Sandy stayed in the car for another minute to compose herself and try to get some idea of how to tell her dad about her pregnancy. She was trembling with fear when she exited the car. It was impossible for her to hold back her tears.

Burt was in the living room with the TV going and was reclining in a Lazy-Boy reading the evening paper when Liz stalked into the room, followed by Sandy who was all but dragging her feet.

"Hello, dear," Burt spoke to his wife, and seeing Sandy, he added, "Hi, Kitten!"

"Hello, Dad," Sandy sniffled.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

Sandy was silent...only crying.

"GO AHEAD, MISSY!" Liz said, rather loudly, "TELL HIM! TELL YOUR FATHER WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

"Liz, why are you shouting at the child? Sandy, please come over here and tell me what's going on? It can't be that bad..."

"WANNA BET?" Liz growled.

"Come on, pussycat. Come sit by Daddy and let me dry away those tears."

"BURT! Don't pamper her. You might not want to once you've learned what she's done."

"Liz, PLEASE! Let me be the judge of what's happened. Come on...sit here, my love."

Slowly Sandy crossed the room and sat on the arm of Burt's recliner and he put his arm around her. She leaned her face over to rest on the top of Burt's head.

"Now, isn't that better?" He asked Sandy. "Now take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong like you always have."

"Daddy, I...I was bad..." Sandy said, hugging Burt.

"Oh, my! What did you break of your mother's this time? A lamp? A vase? One of your mother's prize pieces of china?"

"YOU SHOULD ONLY HOPE, BURT!" Liz snarled.

"LIZ, PLEASE! I've asked you not to interfere until I get to the bottom of Sandy's problem. Now, Kitten, what did you break?"

"Nothing, Dad."

"HAH! WHY DON'T YOU TELL HIM ABOUT YOUR HYMEN?"

"Her what?"

"HYMEN, BURT! YOU'VE SURELY HEARD OF IT! HER MAIDENHEAD! THE GUARDIAN TO HER VIRGINITY!"

"What are you saying, Liz?"

"I'm saying that your precious kitten has ruined her maidenhood."

"I...I had sex, Dad."

"When?"

"The first time was in August..."

"Well, did you enjoy it? Did it make you feel all goose-bumpy inside?"

"Not the first time...but after that, it felt really good."

"Well, that's not so bad. Most girls your age are sexually active. I'm just glad that it didn't scare you and you were brave enough to try it a second time."

"OH DEAR JESUS! I'M NOT BELIEVING WHAT I'M HEARING!" Liz said, turning away from the father/daughter display.

"I hope it was with someone whom you cared about and who cared about you."

"It was Marc, Dad."

"Then, I glad. You made a wise choice."

"BURT! YOUR 'PRECIOUS KITTEN' IS PREGNANT!"

"Is that right, Sandy?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Are you feeling any discomfort? Any pain? Any morning sickness?"

"No pain...but I have been throwing up a lot in the morning."

"That's only natural. That's just part of being pregnant."

By this time, Liz was seething mad. How in hell could Burt be so complacent and accepting of the biggest crisis in their lives.

Burt continued, "Have you been to see Dr. Alford yet?"

"No."

"Then we should get you an appointment right away and make sure you're taking all the things you should be...like calcium, vitamins..."

"Dad, Mom wants me to get an abortion or move away to live with Aunt Alice in Wichita..."

"You'll do neither. You'll stay here and go to school like always until you've carried the baby full term. I'm so excited about being a grandfather. I just didn't think it would be this soon."

"Then you're not mad at me or Marc?"

"Of course not, Sandy. Creating a new life is the most wonderful thing in the world!"

"But Dad, what if I don't want to have the baby? I'm only fifteen!"

"Then, you'll still be fifteen or sixteen when you have it and we'll raise it like your little brother or sister! Lots of fifteen year old girls have baby brothers or sisters."

"Then, Burt, YOU'D better learn to change diapers, boil bottles, and mix formulas because I'm NOT raising a baby! I was through with that when Sandy was born..."

"Then we'll just have to get a live-in 'nanny'," Burt replied.

"BURT, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, DO YOU HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING? DO YOU THINK I CAN EVERY FACE ANYONE AT THE COUNTRY CLUB WITH THEIR KNOWING WE'RE THE GRANDPARENTS OF A BASTARD? WE'LL BE THE OUTCASTS OF HOLYFIELD!"

"Kitten, have you talked to Marc? I mean, have you discussed the two of you getting married?"

"Gosh, no! Mom said that you'd probably get so mad at him, you'd take your gun over to his house and shoot him!"

"You know I'd never do that! You also know how melodramatic your mother can be."

"TELL HIM ABOUT THE POT, SANDY!"

"The pot?"

"Yes, Dad, Marc and I have been growing pot in mom's greenhouse."

"Is it still out there?"

"I...I'm afraid so."

"Then let's to out there and you show it to me, will you?"

"Sure...if that's what you want..."

"I'M NOT GOING OUT THERE!" Liz screamed. "I'VE JUST ABOUT SEEN ENOUGH FOR ONE DAY!"

"Good!" Burt said. "You stay here and it'll give me a chance to be alone with my daughter."

"SHE'S YOUR DAUGHTER, ALL RIGHT. I MIGHT JUST DISOWN HER!"

"Liz, you're talking like an idiot...not like a 'grandmother-to-be".

"I'm not going to be a grandmother! I'm...I'm too young!"

"Liz, you and I will have a private talk later. Right now, I want to go out to the greenhouse with Sandy."

Burt and Sandy went out the back door, leaving Liz alone in the house, filled with furious disbelief. Too bad she didn't own a gun herself because she would've loved to shoot Burt!

Sandy took her dad into the greenhouse and he followed her through rows of herbs camouflaging the cannabis. Finally the two of them reached the tall green plants.

"Good heavens, Kitten, you and Marc raised some mighty good looking pot. I grew some myself when I was a teenager, but I didn't have the green thumb you apparently have. Tell me, do you have some dried leaves?"

"Yes, Dad."

"...How about some rolling papers?"

"Yes, they're hidden behind that sage plant."

"Do you know how to roll a joint...or did Marc do that?"

"I can roll 'em, Dad."

"Well, since we know for sure that your mom's not coming out here, why don't you roll your dad one for old time's sake? I haven't tasted marijuana since I was your age..."

"Are you sure, Dad?" Her tone was almost one of disbelief.

"Of course! I'd love to have one," Burt said. "I'd ask you to roll one for yourself...but with your being pregnant and all, I don't advise it."

Sandy was astounded at her father's acceptance of her being pregnant and now, he wanted to smoke pot in front of her. His actions were nothing like what Sandy had expected. She rolled the cigarette and uncovered the hidden box of wooden matches. Burt lit the marijuana joint, inhaled his first drag, and held the smoke in his lungs until it was warm as blazes inside his lungs.

"Oh, God, Kitten!" Burt exclaimed after exhaling, "that is the absolute BEST marijuana I've ever had in my life. You and Marc should be mighty proud!"

"Thanks, Dad."

"It's too bad Marc isn't here to share this little roach with me. It would also be a good time to find out what he wants to do about the baby."

"He...he doesn't know either. He was so afraid you'd shoot him..."

"Sandy, did you honestly believe I'd harm Marc? Why, he's practically been a member of this family for years...and might soon be a REAL part of it."

"Oh, dad...please. I don't think Marc's ready to be a member of this family yet."

"Do you love him?"

"Very much!"

"And does he love you?"

"I think so...I hope so, at least."

"Then why don't you go inside and call him? Ask him to come over so that he and I can talk."

Sandy avoided her mother when she went into the house to go into her room to use her cell phone. She dialed Marc's number and a very perplexed Ted answered it.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Browne?"

"Yes?"

"This is Sandy..."

"Hi, Sandy. I'm glad you called. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about this afternoon.

"That's all right, Mr. Browne, but is Marc there?"

"He's in his room, Sandy..."

"Could I ask if you'd go to his room and ask him to come to the phone."

"Sandy? Your dad is not on his way over here to see Marc...while carrying a loaded shotgun?"

"Of course not! My dad loves Marc."

"In that case, I'll go get him.:

Marc was reticent about coming out of his room...and even more so about talking with Sandy over the phone.

"Hello?" he said hesitantly.

"Hey, Marc! Guess what?"

"I'm afraid to ask..."

"I talked to my dad and told him everything..."

"Oh, God..."

"No, wait! It's not bad! He wants you to come over here to my house."

"Is that a bit self-incriminating for him to shoot me on his own property? I mean, why not on Main Street at high noon? The saloon? Or better yet, the O.K. Corral?"

"Marc, he's not going to shoot you!"

"Then...what does he want?"

"You're not going to believe this...!"

"Probably not!"

"He wants you to come roll a joint in the greenhouse and share it with him!"

"Are you shittin' me?"

"No, he's in the greenhouse now, waiting for you."

"Holy crap! I'll be right over."

"Thanks, Marc...I...I love you..."

"Yeah, that's nice! I'll be there in a jiff."

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Seeing her son, Buddy, the "homosexual" in bed with her youngest son, Toby, was too much for Lisa and, for the second time in one day, she fainted. Ted became concerned that the stress in the house was too much for her, so he immediately called Charles Alford, their family physician, to have Lisa hospitalized for a few days until things became more tolerable at the Browne residence.

Buddy was somewhat relieved when the ambulance came to pick up his mom. He was afraid that she would either throw him out of the house, have him arrested for gay incestuous molestation, or both. Ted calmed Buddy down, once his mother had gone to the hospital. It was Toby who needed Prozac since his mother had screamed, 'Nasty! Nasty!' at him twice in one day.

Ted scratched his head in puzzlement at Marc's being so cheerful about going over to the Sholler house to meet with Burt. With Lisa gone, Marc gone, Buddy and Tobe in their respective bedrooms with the doors closed, Ted thought he needed a drink. Of course, he'd never bought hard liquor in all the years he'd been married to Lisa, so he hoped that perhaps Lisa had a bottle of wine in the cupboard which she used for cooking.

He went to the kitchen, opened a cupboard door and, lo and behold, there was a full bottle of cooking sherry. Ted reached for the largest tumbler in the cabinet and filled it full, hoping that it would be enough to get him drunk. It only took one sip for Ted to spew it all over the kitchen. It was like drinking dill pickle brine...the saltiest liquid he'd ever put in his mouth!

"GOD DAMN! Can't I do ANYTHING RIGHT?" Ted screamed out loud. "MOTHER FUCKER!!!" Ted's language even surprised him as he never recalled using words like that in his life. He smiled at the release the words gave him. So he began to chant..."FUCK! SHIT! PISS! TURD! FART! CUNT! PUSSY! COCKSUCKER! GOD DAMN SON-OF-A-BITCH! ASSHOLE!" Damn! That felt good to Ted.

Ted suddenly set his eyes on a chair at the kitchen table and pretended that Lisa was sitting there.

"Hey, bitch! Is my cock not good enough for you anymore? Won't let me fuck you at night? Huh? Let me show you what you're missing!"

Ted began to hum, "The Stripper" as he started removing his clothes, bumping and grinding as best he could. Each time he removed an article of clothing, he threw it at the 'imagined' Lisa in the chair...tie, shirt, shoes, (one at a time), socks, belt, pants, and then he slowly peeled down his boxer shorts which made him totally nude. "How do you like them apples, Miss Cold Cunt? Look at my balls, bitch! They're full of juicy cum that I'd like to stuff down your throat! Why the fuck have you never ONCE given me a blowjob like wives are supposed to? LOOK AT MY COCK! Big one, huh? How would you know? You never saw anyone's except mine...except in all the years we've been married, you've really never taken a good look at it! So here's your chance, pussy lips, look at my big dick and see what you've been missing!"

Ted walked as close to the empty chair as possible and began waving his penis in 'Lisa's' face. After a couple of strokes, he had worked up a huge erection and started to masturbate. When he climaxed, he released many years of built-up semen. It covered the seat of the chair and half of the kitchen table. "THERE! CUNT! NOW LICK IT UP!" He yelled.

After he had screamed at the invisible Lisa the first time, both Buddy and Toby had come out of their rooms to go downstairs to see whom their dad was shouting at. They had watched their dad's whole routine without his being aware of them.

"DAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Toby screamed.

Ted looked at his two sons, then down at his nakedness, and finally the white mess he'd shot all over the kitchen furniture. Nothing came to Ted's mind to say. Buddy was speechless as well. Toby was so shocked that he REALLY needed Prozac now.

"Well..." Ted finally spoke. "I guess you can see now why I wasn't so angry at the two of you. I mean, Toby, it's like Buddy and Marc taught you. Sometimes your...your testicles get so full, you just HAVE to unload them before they bust! I...I...well, let's just say I found myself in an emergency situation!"

"That's OK, DAD," Toby said. "I guess I know how you felt."

"OK, boys, the show is over! Why don't you both go back upstairs to bed while I clean up the kitchen."

"Good night, Dad!" Buddy said, followed by Toby's 'Good night'.

"Night, sons."

It would have taken a 'laugh meter' to find out who was laughing the most or the loudest when the boys went up the stairs. They were practically bent double with hysteria while Ted was laughing his head off in the kitchen! As he took a kitchen towel to wipe the table, he waved the cum-filled rag in 'his wife's face' and said, "Look, Lisa! NASTY! NASTY! NASTY!" and he began to laugh harder!

Half an hour later, Ted had finished cleaning up his mess in the kitchen and had pretty much calmed down and come to his senses. He knew that there was no conceivable way of explaining his sudden psychotic onslaught to Buddy and Toby. No amount of words, no plethora of apologies could ever erase what the two boys had seen. He now felt even more hopeless. Fortunately, his demoralized thoughts were interrupted when the phone rang. Maybe the caller would have good news for him, such as Lisa had died or his office was afire in a conflagration and was burning to the ground.

"Hello?" Ted answered in a dismayed voice.

The caller was a recorded message.

'Hello, I'm calling from the Holyfield Mortuary asking if you've made plans to insure your loved ones from the cost of your funeral expenses...'

Ted broke out in a cold sweat and slammed the phone down immediately.

"JESUS CHRIST! WHAT'S NEXT? BOILS? FROGS? FAMINE AND FRUSTRATION? THE DEATH OF MY FIRST BORN?...WHERE THE FUCK DID I PUT THAT COOKING SHERRY?"

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Rex Hastings' last customer for the day was Lola Bernitz Leahy, daughter of the men's sportswear mogul, Abraham Bernitz. After her father's death, Lola bought all the stock which had been left to her brother, Thomas, giving her 100% control of the company. She had been awarded millions in a divorce settlement plus total custody of her seventeen-year-old son, Philip, due to her husband's infidelity with several well-known women in New York's '400'.

She had hired Rex to do all of her advertising, not because his agency was that good, but from the mere fact she thought he was masculine and good-looking and would represent her company in the manner she so desired.

At their meeting, Rex had everything in order for Christmas sales leading into the Spring line of men's sports clothing...costs, TV promos, full page ads and logos...an advertising campaign of which Rex was very proud and was sure that it would please Lola.

However, Lola came to the meeting with her own ideas. She liked what Rex showed to her but Philip was to have his eighteenth birthday in two months and, unlike females his age who had debutante parties, coming out into New York society, boys weren't afforded the same privilege. So it was Lola's idea that Rex build a whole new campaign using Philip in all the ads, posters, billboards, including the largest one in Times Square. She wanted the whole world to know who her son was and what he looked like.

Rex had never met Philip and had only seen his photo once when he was having lunch with Lola and she had casually shown Rex the picture in her billfold as she was reaching for a credit card to pay the check. Rex vaguely remembered the photo of a young, gangly, teenager with braces and Ricky Martin flipped up hair. Philip was certainly no Brad Pitt or anyone else with the looks of a model. Rex was sorry that his presentation hadn't met with Lola's complete approval and wondered how he could possibly build a whole new advertising campaign around the less-than-attractive son of a huge advertising client.

Rex told Lola to have Philip drop by for a photo shoot in two days. he desperately needed to get a dozen or so pages of still shots to see how well the boy photographed. He hoped that, by using harsh lighting and sepia tone film, Philip would look bad and Lola's idea could be dropped for the one Rex had presented to her.

Two days later, Philip came by Rex's office and Rex hardly recognized him from his photo. Philip did not look like Brad Pitt---he looked BETTER than Brad Pitt, only he had black hair and blue eyes, reminiscent of Jeffrey Hunter or Paul Newman. Philip was 6'2" tall with the upper torso of the tennis star, Andy Roddick. His face was spectacular with smooth olive skin, perfectly shaped eyebrows and eyelashes long enough to rival the Estee Lauder female models. In other words, one look at Philip took Rex's breath away. The kid must have had a complete makeover with cosmetic surgery and hours of bodybuilding since the photo in Lola's billfold had been taken.

'No wonder Lola wants him in all her ads, Philip could sell beach thongs to Eskimos!' Rex thought. 'He's an absolute dream and perfect for ANY man's product.'

Rex met him at the door and didn't even bother to speak to him initially as Rex was so flustered by Philips good looks.

Recovering as gracefully as he could, he stammered "Come on in, Philip. The photographer is waiting for you in the studio just down the hallway here."

Rex hurried Philip down to let the photographer get to work immediately on the proof sheets. There was a rack of twenty-five or so men's outfits from the Bernitz fall and winter lines and Rex wanted shots taken of Philip wearing some of each.

This was going to be a real dream account for Rex to sell. The kid was a natural to jump from modeling to films, TV, personal appearances and overnight stardom. Rex knew that if Lola was pleased with the way Rex was handling him, it was almost guaranteed that she would put him under Rex's exclusive representation. Rex was not in need of big money, he had already made it. However, one look at Philip put dollar signs in Rex's pupils. Rex left Philip with Lars, the photographer and went back up the hall to his office to begin the biggest layout and ad campaign he'd ever designed. Philip could double his price by doing his own voiceovers and speaking commercials.

Three hours passed and the photo shoot should be over, so Rex nervously called Lars to ask Philip to come to his office.

"How'd the shoot go?" Rex asked Lars.

"The kid's a natural! The camera loved him...only there's one huge drawback."

"Lars, this is not the time to speak about the size of his penis, you dirty old fool."

"Oh, he's fine in that department. He'll have guys and girls jerking off when they see his pictures."

"So? What's the big drawback?"

"Did you talk with him?"

"Well, no...I guess I didn't."

"Then you don't know what's wrong with him...?"

"Apparently not. I have no idea what you're referring to."

"The kid can't talk..."

"What?"

"I said, the kid can't talk..."

"Lars, are you saying that the kid's a deaf-mute?"

"Oh, no, his hearing is all right...it's his speaking voice..."

"You mean he's like Rudolph Valentino...looks like a man but has a high pitched voice. That ruined his career when he went from silent film to talkies."

"No...I...I wouldn't say his voice is actually high pitched."

"Then what the fuck is wrong with it, Lars?"

"Just wait until you hear him. I thought he was joking at first but after fifteen minutes I realized that his natural speaking voice is a dead ringer for Daffy Duck's."

"What?"

"I mean it, Rex, the kid sounds like Daffy Duck."

"Lars, Philip must be pulling your leg."

"He's almost finished changing in the dressing room. I'm send him down as soon as he's through...just don't be alarmed. I've almost had an aneurysm in my forehead trying to keep from laughing every time he said a word. Daffy-fucking-duck! You won't believe it!"

Rex became so concerned that he broke the lead in his pencil on his sketch sheet. Rex thought back to three or four times when Lars had played tricks on him at office and Christmas parties, like the time Lars sprinkled phosphorous powder on the toilet tissue and later turned out the lights, leaving only a black light lit. At another time, Lars had brought a tin of home-made peanut brittle, substituting Viagra for half the peanuts. This 'Daffy Duck' bit had to be a 'Lars' joke! Just in case he was wrong, Rex reached into his bottom desk drawer for a quick swig from his metallic flask to steady his nerves.

A few minutes later, Philip knocked on Rex's door and entered.

"Tho you wanted to thee me?"

Doing all he could to muffle his laughter, Rex faked a coughing spell and almost choked.

"I enjoyed the thoot. It wath more fun than I exthpected. Are you thick?"

Trying to compose himself, Rex replied, "I...I theemed to have thwallowed thomthing down the wrong pipe," not really realizing he had inadvertently copied Philip's lisp. "Excuse me, Philip, for just a couple of minutes. I need to run to the restroom and gargle."

"Thure, take your time," Philip replied.

Rex made it out his office door and braced his back against the wall as his composure fell apart into hysteria.

"Jethus Chrithe!" Rex said to himself and burst into laughter again. He went into his bathroom to regain a serious demeanor but three times in a row, he broke down laughing as he reached for the door. 'This can't be happening! Why can't I keep a straight face? This is my biggest account about to go down the toilet and I can't make fun of the kid, nor can he see me in this hysterical state'. So out of sheer desperation, Rex went over one of the doors of the toilet booths, placed his hand on the frame, and slammed the door on his fingers. Luckily, the madness of his method worked...pain replaced his laughter and he was able to go back to his office to face Philip. Rex wrapped his handkerchief over his knuckles. His fingernails were already beginning to turn blue. 'GOD DAMN! Why did this have to happen?' Rex asked himself as he painfully went down the hall.

"Philip! I was just talking with Lars and he said the shoot was sensational. The sheets should be ready by tomorrow or the next day, so...so, I'll call your mother and arrange a meeting with the three of us."

"Thanks, Mithter Hathtings."

"That's quite all right son. Just don't worry about a thing!"

Philip left and Rex, once again, reached for his flask, this time finishing its entire contents.

'Oh, Ted, PLEASE, show up at the reunion! Fall in love with me again, and take me away from all this!' Rex said to himself as he began to beat his forehead against the blotter on his desk.

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If for no other reason than to spite Kathy, Scott took over the chore of putting Skip and Bobby to bed. Maybe his relationship with his wife was skating over troubled waters, but Scott was determined not to let anything ruin his father/son bond with his two sons. He let Bobby, the older, hop on to ride him piggy-back while he carried Skip in his arms to their bedroom.

He assisted the two boys in their undressing and donning their PJ's, plus supervising their tooth-brushing and -flossing, then whirled them around and landed them in their perspective double beds. They exchanged 'goodnights' and kisses, and after the two youngsters had said their prayers. Scott tucked them in under the covers, turned on the night light, and easily backed out the door, giving them one final look and a smile as he left.

It was nine o'clock and Kathy was about to watch 'CSI' on TV when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Parsons?"

"Yes?"

"Is...is Mr. Parsons still up?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Bu..this is Lonnie. Could you tell Mr. Parsons I need to speak to him, please?"

"You're the drum major, aren't you?"

"Yes, maam. I know it's kinda late, but I need to speak to him...about... about tomorrow's band practice."

"All right. Let me get him for you."

"Thank you, maam."

"SCOTT! Telephone!"

"Who's calling me at this hour?"

"Someone who takes precedence over me. Of course, that's just about everyone in Holyfield!"

"Ssh, Kathy! That's no way to talk for someone to hear you."

"It's one of your students. Are you sober enough to talk with him?"

"Oh, Kathy, good lord! Give me the phone!"

She handed Scott the receiver but still had a second to call him, "Sot!"

Scott tried to hide her remark from the caller by quickly placing his hand over the mouthpiece.

"Hello?"

"Scott?"

"Yes?"

"This is Lon...this is Buddy."

Scott was stunned at hearing Buddy's voice and was puzzled why he would call him this late at home.

"OK."

"Listen, I know that Mrs. Parsons is nearby and you won't be able to talk, but I need to know if Mrs. Parsons is all right? I mean, has she been acting strangely tonight?""

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me, if you know, did Mrs. Parsons get a mysterious phone call around five-thirty or six?"

"I don't think so...nothing was mentioned, anyway."

"Thank God for that!"

"What do you mean?"

"Someone saw us coming out of the motel and she called my mom and told her."

"This is serious, Lonnie. Do you know who that somebody is?"

"Lulu...Louise Drummond."

"Oh, my God!"

Kathy suddenly became more interested in Scott's telephone conversation and nonchalantly edged near him in order to hear better.

"So how does your dad and mom feel about all this? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"What? Oh, I see, Mrs. Parsons is gettin a bit suspicious. That's why you asked about Mom and Dad."

"Well, personally, that's the way I see it!"

"I...I thought I'd better warn you...and just in case your phone should ring, it would be safer if you could answer it before Mrs. Parsons."

"Yes, Lonnie, I can see how that would upset you."

"I also wanted to call and tell you what a wonderful time I had with you this afternoon."

"That's my same opinion, Lonnie."

"It's funny, knowing you can't talk, and I'm getting a kick out of your answers."

"Do you think you'll be all right tonight?"

"I can answer that for real. I...I somehow doubt it. My whole house turned upside down this afternoon!"

"I...I can imagine..."

"Oh, no, you can't. You wouldn't believe HALF the things I could tell you. My mom caught my kid brother masturbating, just before she found out that Marc, my sixteen year old brother, got his girlfriend pregnant while they both were high on pot...THEN, she got the phone call about you and me..."

"Sounds like your family has had quite a day. How is your mother?"

"She flipped out and the paramedics came and took her to the hospital."

"I can see why!"

"Scott?"

"Yes?"

"Did you mean it when you said you loved me this afternoon?"

"Why, yes, of course!"

"Me, too."

"That's one good thing that happened for you today..."

"You better believe it!"

"Did...did anyone harm you physically?"

"Do you mean is my butt sore?"

"That's what I meant!"

"A little, but I've got some balm I'm going to use before I go to bed."

"That's a very good idea, Lonnie. I would do the same if I were in your place."

"I guess I'd better let you go before Mrs. Parsons gets REALLY suspicious."

"That's certainly the right thing to do."

"Thanks, Scott, I love you."

"I...I suppose I feel the same way about what happened to you."

"Good night."

"Good night, Lonnie, I'm glad that you called and if you need me, please call again."

Scott had a sinking feeling in his stomach. If he and Buddy had been seen, there was a lot at risk...his job, his reputation, his family...!

"Kathy, I have to go out for a bit. I won't be long..."

"Don't tell me you're going to have a band practice at nine o'clock at night!"

"Of course not, silly. That was Lonnie Browne, my drum major."

"I know who it was. He introduced himself to me over the phone. I'm not an imbecile or one of your students."

"Lonnie...Lonnie has had some trouble at home...and well, his folks sorta kicked him out and...and well, the boy sounded delirious. If things don't improve there, he...might be calling me again. So, if you want to go to bed after your TV show is over, I'll sit down here for awhile in case he calls again."

"How is it that you think you can solve everyone else's family problems and ignore your own?"

"Very easily, Kathy, when the problem I have at home ignores me."

"Touché, D'Artagnan!" Kathy quipped.

"Kathy, I'm not ready to accept your challenge and throw down my gauntlet! I think the two of us have argued enough for one night!"

"Just don't wake me when you come to bed."

"Are you afraid I might attack you sexually in your sleep?" Scott snapped.

"Oh, that'll be the day, Mister. Attacking me is the only way you'll ever have me again. Those days and nights are over!"

"Tell me, Kathy, doesn't it get just a little bit uncomfortable trying to sleep in an iron-locked chastity belt?"

"Better that than be battered by a limp javelin!"

"Kathy, sorry I have to say this, but go fuck yourself!"

"I just might! It's less messy!"

"Good night, Kathy! I may not bother to come up to our bedroom tonight!"

"That's fine! You won't be missed...not by me, anyway!"

Scott went out the front door, slamming it behind him. He sat down on the stairs of the stoop. He was shaken all over, first by the argument with Kathy, and secondly about what Buddy had to tell him. He had told Lonnie twice today that he loved him...but in retrospect he wasn't sure now why he had said it. Scott had realized for a long time that his marriage was crumbling and, with the exception of his two sons, he really didn't care if it did...nor was he sure he was ready for a gay relationship with a nineteen-year-old student. He found his thoughts drifting back over the years and remembered how wonderful his days had been with Clay. Things could have and SHOULD have worked out differently and suddenly he was sorrier more than ever before.

He felt as if he were a contestant on the old TV show, "Let's Make A Deal" and Monty Hall was asking which of the three doors he would like to open. Behind door number one was a miserable life with Kathy. Behind door number two was a new but almost hopeless adventure with a boy half his age. Finally, door number three contained the 'what-might-have-been' life with Clay. All three options pointed to doom and he wished Monty would cut away for a commercial and when the show returned, he would not be there. He'd disappear. At the moment, the only person he wanted to see was his mother in Plantation, Florida.

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Marc knocked on the front door of the Sholler residence. Liz answered. When she saw that it was Marc, she scoffed. "What do you want, RAPIST?"

"Mrs. Sholler, Mr. Sholler told me to come over to meet with him."

"Good! I hope he invited you over to cut your balls off! He's in the greenhouse...or should I say, 'the house of POTted plants?"

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll go around back to see him."

"Fine! I don't ever want you to enter this house ever again, you little delinquent!"

Marc couldn't wait to get out of Liz's sight, but he still didn't know what to expect from MISTER Sholler. He slowly walked around the house to the solarium and opened the door, to see Burt and Sandy laughing together where the marijuana was planted.

Burt saw Marc and waved him to come inside.

"Hey there, young fellow! Come on back and let's us talk. Sandy, why don't you go inside and be with your mother while Marc and I get to know each other a whole lot better?"

"OK, Dad," Sandy said as she passed Marc through the narrow aisles of plants. She gave her dad a quick glance before she kissed Marc on the cheek. Then she giggled (from being high) and ran out of the greenhouse into her home.

"Mr. Sholler? You wanted to see me?" Marc asked, almost fearfully.

"Yes, son. I thought you and I should talk about yours and Sandy's wedding before Liz and I got together with Ted and Lisa."

"Wedding?"

"Of course, son, I want you to become a member of my family as soon as possible...you know, to avoid gossip. We certainly don't want any of our friends or neighbors thinking we have a little bastard crawling around the backyard, do we?"

Marc gulped. "No, sir...I guess not!"

"We don't have to have a big fancy-shmancy catered affair. We can just have a small ceremony with only our two families attending. Saves a lot of time and a hell of a lot of money."

"Yessir..."

"I suppose you can have your choice of your dad or one of your two brothers to be your best man."

"...I suppose..."

"Of course...if any of them should refuse...I'm always available..."

"I...I'll keep that in mind, sir."

"Son, I want to compliment you on this weed you've grown here. It's the finest cannabis I've ever smoked. You should be proud!"

"You...you've been smoking pot, sir?"

"Yes, I have. I...I'm on my third cigarette and I'm feeling just great. Come join me and I'll roll you one."

"I'd...I'd better not...it's a school night..."

"Then I suppose you're right! But come sit with me anyway."

"All right."

Marc walked slowly toward Burt and sat down on one of the large tables which held the herbs and plants.

"You know, Marc, I've really never taken a good look at you, but you're quite a handsome young fellow!"

"...thank you, sir."

"Tall and strong! Come let me feel your biceps!"

"They're not very big, sir."

"Let me feel them anyway."

"...yessir..."

Marc timidly got up and walked over to face Burt who reached out and kneaded Marc's arm muscles and then his shoulders. Marc became more than slightly uncomfortable being felt by a man who he'd expected to shoot him.

"How about your legs, son?"

"Sir?"

"Your legs! Are they as strong as your arms?"

"...I guess so."

"Mind if I have a feel?"

"...uh...no sir."

Burt leaned over and began to feel Marc's calves, massaging his way up to Marc's thighs which he grasped firmly.

Now Marc became afraid. Mr. Sholler was only inches away from his testicles and he braced himself for Mr. Sholler to tear them from his body.

"My, my, you're built all over!" Burt exclaimed. He was high as a kite on pot. "How big is your love muscle?"

"SIR?"

"Your love muscle? You know, your cock! How big is it?"

"...standard size, I guess."

"Might as well feel that too, as long as I'm examining my future son-in-law. I want to see what my daughter's getting in return for carrying your child."

"You want to feel my penis?"

"Of course, son. Now unzip your pants and whip it out so I can get a good look at it while I see how firm it is!"

"Sir...I..."

"Come on, don't be shy, boy. We're gonna be family! Now let's see what you've got."

Marc tried to look behind Burt to see if he had a knife or a pair of plant shears. He was certain that he was about to be castrated or worse.

Slowly, Marc unzipped his pants and carefully pulled out his penis from his fly. Burt reached over and took a firm grip and moved Marc's foreskin back a forth a few times. Nature took her course and Marc became erected in Burt's hand.

"Oh, son...you've got a nice one. Sandy's a lucky girl. I must say I approve of her choice. You can make a lot of babies with your fine piece of equipment."

"...yes sir."

"Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

Marc held on to the table to brace himself for the impending surgery.

"...I suppose so..."

"My God, the tip of it is all wet."

"...that happens sometimes..."

"It looks so juicy, it makes me want to lick it!"

"SIR?"

Before Marc could stop him, Burt licked the end of Marc's penis and then suddenly lunged forward and took the entire shaft into his mouth. Certain that Burt was about to bite it off, Marc prayed that God would send a bolt of lightning through the glass roof and strike him dead, burning Burt's tongue. He was speechless and felt as if his whole body was paralyzed. He couldn't move, but suddenly realized that Burt's hot mouth felt good to him. A minute later Marc began to rock backward and forward, thus fucking Burt's mouth.

Burt pulled back long enough to say, "That's right son, give it to me. Give it ALL to me!"

Marc had no idea what to do for he felt the rush of a humongous orgasm about to explode. In the meanwhile, Burt had reached further into Marc's pants and had a strong hold on Marc's scrotum. Marc's final thought was...'If he wants it, he's gonna get it...ALL of it!' and he let every ounce of his man-fluid gush into Burt's mouth.

Burt sputtered, coughed, and choked but manage to swallow all of Marc's seed, licking all around his lips so as not to waste a single drop.

"DADDY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MARC?" Sandy screamed from the doorway. She had come back to the greenhouse to see if Marc was safe just as Marc was climaxing.

"Sandy, my dear, I was trying to find out why you found Marc attractive enough to have sex with him," Burt replied. "And now I know for myself."

Marc looked cautiously at Sandy. He was embarrassed from head to toe. Next he looked back at Burt was still wiping his mouth. Finally, Marc looked straight up and said, "Please, God, let me die, here and now. Please let me die!"

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(To be continued in "If Love Were All-8")