This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
Mark Stevens
Nurse and the Patient, Part 25
"I think this is the place," Jonathan said.
He was sitting in the car along side of Lance
Behind the wheel, Lance said, "I believe you're right." He turned off the highway and slowly drove past a gate with a mail box sitting to one side. The name "Wilson" was on the side of the long metal box.
"You okay with this?"
Lance braked the car. He shut the engine off and turned to face Jonathan. "To be honest, I'm scared shitless."
"Nothing says you have to do this," Jon reminded him.
"You are right, of course. Still, now that I know I am definitely not a Thompson, I feel compelled to find out anything I can about who I really am."
"As far as I'm concerned, you are Lance Thompson, the man I love. I don't give a shit whether it's Thompson' or Wilson'."
"I appreciate that, I really do, Jon. Still, it's something I need to do."
Jonathan smiled tenderly at the man who now filled his life with so much happiness he could hardly stand it at times. "Then let's do it." He opened the door and stepped out of the car.
The two men walked up to the door, their foot steps echoing off the flag stoned walkway. They stopped at the entranceway, and Lance reached out and pressed the round button. Chimes could be heard behind the closed door announcing their arrival. Both men stepped back and waited.
Soon the heavy wooden door clicked open and slowly made its way backward. The two men were suddenly face to face with an older man.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. My name is,"
"I know who you are."
The older man suddenly turned white as a sheet. Although he appeared at first glance to be well over six feet, the man suddenly seemed to shrink inches before their eyes.
The nurse in Jonathan quickly kicked in. "Are you all right, Mr. Wilson? Perhaps you should sit down."
Calen Wilson's eyes stared into those of Lance Thompson's. "You look just like him." The words he spoke were so soft it was hard to hear them.
Lance's mouth was suddenly quite dry. Forcing himself to take a deep breath he asked, "Who do I look like, Mr. Wilson?"
"My brother," he answered.
The older man closed his eyes for a brief second. When he reopened them he motioned for them to enter the house. "Please, won't you come inside?"
The man led them down a short hall way into a room on their left. "Please, have a seat." He indicated a large stuffed sofa.
As Jonathan and Lance took their seat, Lance looked across the room to where Calen Wilson had also taken a seat. "No doubt you are wondering the purpose of our visit."
The man suddenly stood to his feet. "Please, forgive my manners. Would you gentlemen care for a drink?"
Feeling a bit shaky inside, Lance assured him he would enjoy one very much.
"What about you?" he asked Jonathan.
Jonathan quickly said he would love a drink.
They watched as Calen Wilson walked over to a bar in the far corner of the room. He returned minutes later carrying a tray with three drinks.
"Now, as you were saying?"
Lance took a sip from his glass. "I was saying you must be curious about our visit this afternoon."
Calen Wilson took a much larger drink from the glass he was holding. "I always suspected Carter had a child. I thought you said your name was Thompson. Aren't the Thompson's associated with Smyth Oil?"
Lance nodded. "That's correct, we are."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"You were aware that your brother, Carter, was in love with my Mother. Kathleen Smyth?"
"I knew they were dating," the man admitted.
"You didn't know they were in love?"
"Mr. Thompson, when my brother was dating your mother I was around the age of sixteen. My brother was not interested much in my life at that time, nor I his."
As Jonathan sat on the sofa next to Lance, he studied his lover. How could he have missed the fact, how much Lance looked like Carter Wilson? Even Edith had failed to mention it.
When there was a break in the conversation, Jonathan asked, "What made you `suspect', as you put it, that your brother had a child?"
"Many years passed between the deaths of my brother and father. When my father passed away my mother took it really hard. Almost over night her mind became affected, and she would get things mixed up. Sometimes it was hard to tell what was real to her and what wasn't. It seemed that Carter was on her mind a lot and she began talking about when he was little and how happy she and my father were when he was born. Oh, she would always hasten to say I made them happy as well, but it was plain to see she felt differently toward the two of us."
"I don't have any siblings, but I have friends who have children, and they tell me they love each of them the same, yet a bit differently at the same time," Jonathan remarked.
"No doubt you are right, Mr. Davis. Still, it was difficult at times to accept the fact."
"Were you aware that your brother was adopted?" Lance asked.
Calen Wilson nodded. "I did, although, not until after my father died. I was going through his files and came across the adoption papers."
"I can certainly understand how you felt. I am thirty-five years old, and I am just now finding out things about me I never knew before."
"After my mother's mind became weak, she would sometimes get things mixed up when she talked about the past, when we were kids. Some times she would refer to Carter as her little angel; other times she would say he was her special gift. At first I thought she was just admitting her favoritism.
"When I discovered the adoption papers in my father's files, I approached her. All she would say, however, was that he had always been special, a gift from an angel."
There was silence in the room for a time before Jonathan finally broke it.
"Mr. Wilson, your mother was right. There was an angel. Actually, there still is one, and we have met her."
Calen Wilson sat his glass down on the table beside his chair. "Just what the hell are you talking about here?"
Lance studied the face of the man sitting across the room from him, a man that actually was his family. Well, sort of, he corrected himself.
"Do you remember when your brother worked for Smyth Oil?"
"Barely," the man answered. "Like I told you, I was just sixteen at the time. If I remember correctly, I think I was more interested in driving than the life of my brother."
"There was a woman working at that time for the company as well," Lance said. "Edith Baxter was her name. This same woman, Sir, was your brother's natural mother. My grandmother," he added.
Lance's uncle sat in his seat, and for a time, remained silent. Finally, "This seems so confusing to me."
"As I said earlier, I understand completely where you are coming from," Lance assured him. "For thirty-five years I grew up living in a house and hating the man I thought was my father every day of my life."
"Did the Thompson's not treat you well?"
"My mother loved me very much. I can never say anything bad about the way she raised me. The last two years of her life were not so good. I think life just had a way of catching up with her and she just couldn't take it any longer. She started drinking heavily, and at the time, I thought it was me, something I had done. It took a long time for me to see that she turned to drinking because she hated her life with the man I thought was my father. You can't believe the guilt I had for years over the fact that I hated him so much."
"So I take it you were relieved to find he wasn't your father?"
"Yes, I was; however, at the same time, just finding out he was actually no relation to me at all, well, that shook the hell out of me. It didn't matter how much I hated the man. All my life, well, most of it, I had spent hating him, and I guess when I found out things were different it made me feel as if I had wasted a lot of my life letting those emotions rule me. It actually cost my mother her life."
"Wasn't Kathleen Thompson killed in some type of accident?"
Lance nodded. "Car," he said.
"I am sorry."
Lance leaned forward. "Mr. Wilson, I guess the main reason for my visit is this: Now that I've discovered my roots lie elsewhere, I would like to find out about them, about who I really am. I hope I am not being too forward about this."
Calen Wilson was silent for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. "I will be glad to tell you all I know," he said. "For starters, how about you call me Calen'? If we are family Mr. Wilson' seems to be a bit formal, don't you think?"
"Very well, then, Calen it is. I am Lance. This is Jonathan."
"Well, Lance, I will tell you whatever I can about your family. If you can make a return trip at a later time I can have pictures, family documents, that sort of thing ready for you to look over. It might help to pull a lot of this together. You say you know who Carter's blood mother is?"
"Yes and a wonderful lady she is."
"A wonderful lady that gave up her son?"
"I realize that sounds like a selfish person," Jonathan spoke up. "However, as was pointed out to us, things were a bit different fifty years ago. It was unheard of for a single woman to raise a child alone."
Calen looked sharply at Jonathan. "So, tell me, how do you fit in with all of this?"
"Jon is my partner," Lance told him.
"Your business partner?"
"My life partner."
"You're gay." It was a statement rather than a question.
"I am," Lance answered. "Does that bother you?"
The man shook his head. "Not in the least," he answered. "A man should love who he wants."
"My thoughts exactly," Jonathan said speaking softly.
The man looked them over and then said, "It's plain to see that the two of you are very happy."
"We are happy, Calen," Lance assured him. "Again, I am sorry for bringing all of this confusion into your life. Like I said earlier, I know exactly what it's like to have your life turned completely around and everything different than it use to be."
Calen stood to his feet and walked across the room, where he stopped before a library table that ran the length of a window. He picked up at picture frame and quickly made his way back.
"This is the last picture taken of my brother."
Lance took the wooden frame, and his fingers shook as they wrapped themselves around the wood. He looked at the face staring back at him. Tears formed in his eyes and slowly made their way down his cheeks, one from each eye.
Jonathan also studied the face in the frame. "My God, I can hardly believe it."
"They could pass for brothers." The words coming from Calen Wilson were soft.
Lance handed the picture frame to Jonathan. He wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "Please, tell me about my father."
"Carter was a kind and thoughtful person. To be honest, I have to admit that I was always a bit jealous of my brother. He could do no wrong and everyone loved him. I think he caused every person he came in contact with to love him in one way or another. When I was growing up I felt I could do nothing to compare to him, like everything he touched turned to gold, while everything I did sort of went sour."
"I don't know if you were aware of it or not, but after Carter went to work for my family's company, he worked closely around his mother. In fact, I think she had a lot of influence with my grandfather in order for him to have a job."
"I remember my dad saying that had Carter lived he would have done well in his career."
"From what I have been told, I think my grandfather was grooming Carter to take over the company one day after he and my mother were married."
"I remember your mother coming here once for a visit with my mother. I had forgotten about that. If I remember correctly, the two of them spent the entire afternoon together. My mother never did say what the meeting was about."
"Edith seems to think they might have discussed the fact there had been a child," Jon interjected.
"Now that I remember, it was after your mother's visit that talk of a suspected child came about. However, when I tried to pursue it with my mother, she simply closed her lips and would not utter another word."
Calen finished his drink. "Would you two care for another drink?"
"I'm good," Lance told him, and Jonathan echoed the same.
"Let me tell you what I can do. There is a trunk stored away in the attic. I am \pretty sure it belonged to my brother, your father. If you could give me a day or so I can have it brought down. I can also gather all of the family photographs together and have for you to look over."
"That would be wonderful, Calen," Lance said. "I appreciate anything you can do to help me understand what all took place in the past."
"I will do my best," the man promised. "Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"
Jonathan and Lance stood to their feet. "You've been wonderful," Lance told the man. "Very helpful," he added.
"You may take the picture with you if you like."
"Thank you, I would like that very much."
"Do you have a number where I can reach you?"
Lance gave him both his home and his cell phone number.
"Give me a day or so. I'll be in touch."
"We appreciate anything you can do," Jonathan said shaking the man's hand.
As Calen Wilson took the hand Lance extended to him he said, "Lance, I am so sorry for anything my family may have done to you, whether knowingly or not."
"All I want is to find out what my true roots are, and to discover who my father was and what he was like. I feel I need to do this just so I can reach some sort of closure."
As they were walking out the door, Calen said, "When you return please be assured that your grandmother would be most welcomed, should she choose to accompany you."
"I think I would like that," Lance said with a smile. "I will invite her at least. Whether she chooses to come with us, well, that we will just have to see."
"Just let her know she is welcomed here."
As they were driving out the drive Jonathan asked, "Well, how do you feel now? Since you have met the man?"
"Like I still have a lot of unanswered questions," he replied.
"At least you have this," Jonathan said picking up the picture on the seat beside them.
"Can you believe how much I really look like him?" Lance asked.
"It is uncanny," Jon agreed. "Do you want to stop by and see Edith? I'm pretty sure she is wondering just what the hell happened this afternoon."
"You read my mind because that's exactly what I planned on doing."
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Edith Baxter greeted them both warmly and ushered them into her old fashioned living room.
"How was your visit?" she asked as they took a seat on her sofa.
"I think it was good," Lance answered his grandmother.
"We almost caused the man to have a heart attack," Jonathan said. "At least Lance did," he added.
"Because you look just like your father," Edith said quietly.
"Speaking of which, look at this," Lance said handing her the picture of his father. "It was the last one ever taken of him."
Edith looked at the picture she was holding. A tear slowly made its way down one of her cheeks. "I remember him this way," she said. "In fact this is the way he looked the last day he worked. He stopped by my desk to tell me he was going hunting that weekend with your grandfather. "And Sam Thompson," she added bitterly. "If I had only known."
"Edith, we're supposed to go see Calen Wilson in a few days, and he has invited you to return with us. Would you like that?"
"Go to the Wilson home?"
"It's okay," Lance assured her. "He was very sincere when he issued the invitation."
The old woman was silent for a time. She appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. Finally she said, "I will have to think about it, okay?"
Lance stood to his feet and walked to his grandmother. Bending down, he held her hand inside his own, covering it with his fingers. "Are you all right? I know this has been a shock to you."
"Don't worry about me. It's you that concerns me."
"I'm going to be fine," he assured her.
"If you're okay, that's all that matters to me."
They spent the next hour or so filling her in on their visit with Calen Wilson. As they described how it had gone and what the man had told them, she seemed to tire out right before their eyes.
Always the nurse, Jonathan noticed this. He said, "I think we've taken up enough of your time, Edith. We're tiring you out. We need to leave so you can get some rest."
Lance stood to his feet. "You're right, Jon. We've bothered her enough for one day."
"Nonsense," she admonished them both. "I am fit as a fiddle."
"Of that I have no doubt. All the same, we'll go so you can think about what we've told you," Jonathan said.
Lance went over and leaned down. He gave his grandmother a kiss on the cheek. "You get some rest, now, okay? And please, just know you will be every bit as welcomed at the Wilson home as we were today."
She smiled and said, "Thank you, Lance. I love you so much."
"I love you too. You get some rest now. That's an order." He tried to put a stern tone in his voice.
"We'll give you a call, Edith when we've heard from Calen Wilson. You should have plenty of time between now and then to decide if you want to go with us."
At the door she told them both good bye. "I thank you for stopping by."
On the way home Lance said, "I'm a bit worried about her. You think she's okay?"
"I think she's fine," Jonathan said. "We've given her an awful lot to take in. I can't even begin to imagine what it feels like to think a big part of your life has been buried for over fifty years, and now, it's suddenly back to haunt you. I'm sure she's feeling some of the same guilt she felt all those many years ago when she had to let go of your father."
"All the more why we have to do all we can to make those years up to her," Lance said, a determined look appearing on his face.
Once they were home, Jonathan turned and pulled Lance to him. He wrapped his arms around the man and hugged him tightly as if he didn't he might lose him. "I love you, Lance, so fucking much."
Saying those words, Jon quickly placed his lips on Lance's mouth. As he kissed him, Jon worked his tongue deep inside his lover's mouth. The kiss they shared was so full of passion it left them both weak.
Breaking the kiss, Jonathan said, "Oh, Baby, I need you inside me. Please take me to bed and fuck me," he begged.
Lance ran his hands slowly down Jon's back where they stopped, one on each cheek. "I think that can be arranged," he said. He gave him a wicked grin.
Jon grabbed Lance by the hand and pulled him down the hall. By the time they were in the bedroom both were mostly naked, having left a trail of clothes behind them. Seconds later they were naked.
Jonathan dropped to his knees. Reaching for Lance's already hardening cock, he took it between his fingers and began lapping around the outer layer of the head as if it were an ice cream cone. Then he took his tongue and slowly worked his way down the shaft, and by the time he had reached Lance's hairy cum filled balls the shaft was at full mast. It stood out proudly surrounded by his thick brown pubes.
Jon licked further down until he came in touch with the hairy nut sac. He tongued both balls enjoying the fill of hair tickling his tongue as well as the feel of each full ball. He sucked and played with those balls for several minutes before making his way back up the rod. By the time he had reached the tip, he was pleased to find a nice string of pre cum slowly making its way out of tip. Some attached itself to Jon's lip, and he loved the slippery feel it made as it touched him.
"God you suck good cock," Lance groaned. He moaned even louder when he felt Jon engulf him completely, felt Jon's nose pressed into the brown curls that surrounded his dick.
Jonathan continued sucking Lance's cock until his lover pushed away.
"I love fucking your mouth, but even more attacking your ass. I need you, Babe," he moaned.
Jonathan stood to his feet and threw himself on the bed. He reached for the bottle of lube and threw it to Lance. "Here, grease that thick hairy snake between your legs and plow my ass," he ordered.
Lance caught the bottle and squeezed a glob of the slippery gel into the palm of his hand. As he rubbed his cock down spreading it thickly from the tip all the way down to its hairy base he said, "Get on your knees. I want to fuck you doggie style."
Jon quickly did as he was told. He got up on his knees, balancing himself with his hands. He wiggled his ass and said, "Grease this hairy thing up and attack it."
Lance got on the bed. He squeezed another big glob out and smeared it between the hairy crack he was getting ready to fuck. He spread it all around Jon's hairy hole, gradually pushing some deep inside with his finger.
Jon moaned. "That's the way, grease it up good." He pushed back forcing the finger to fuck him deeper. "Oh, yeah," he moaned louder.
Lance pulled his finger out and threw the bottle to the floor. He got on his own knees and leaned forward rubbing the tip of his hard dripping cock next to the slippery hairy hole in front of him. He lined his cock up with Jon's hole, pressed forward and immediately slid all the way in. He was buried balls deep, his thick cock hair pressed hard into his lover's ass cheeks.
"Fuck, your ass feel so hot," he groaned.
"Then fuck it," Jon ordered. "Pound my fuck hole," he groaned.
Lance didn't need to be told twice. He at once began his thrusts, enjoying the feel of Jon's hot ass as the walls reached out and sucked him deeper inside the hairy opening. Each time he would pull about half way out where he could feel cool air against his cock, and then slam right back inside the warm wet hole, enjoying the sweet sensation it was giving his cock. He pounded harder, deeper, and for a time they were both lost in the wonder that good hot sex brings.
"Yeah, pound my ass. I love feeling your balls slamming me, love feeling the hair around your cock scratching my ass cheeks. So fucking hot, Lance."
Lance muttered something and kept on pounding his lover's sex hole. The harder he pounded the louder both he and Jon moaned.
"I'm going to cum," Lance suddenly cried out.
"Do it," Jon ordered. "Fill my ass with you hot thick load."
Jon felt the cock in his ass swell up, and he knew it was about to explode deep inside him, coating the walls of his ass with his lover's hot man juice. He pushed his body back into Lance hard as he could, met each stroke his lover made. Then as tightly as he could, Jon squeezed the muscles in his ass causing them to grip Lance's cock tightly, and the cum shot out, filling him up completely.
"Fuck," Lance screamed.
After Lance had finished shooting deep inside Jon, he rested for a moment, his body leaning against his lover's back, his cock still buried deep inside the cum filled hole. Finally he pulled out with a plop sound. Some of his cum slowly made its way out the wet hole, through the plastered down hair surrounding the hole, and worked its way along the back side of Jon's leg.
Lance pushed Jonathan down on the bed. "Get on your back," he said, "I want to swallow your cum."
Jon laid on his back, his cock standing proudly in the middle of his thick blond hair patch. The fucking he had received from Lance had caused him to leak so much pre cum that the heavy blond fur was matted down, plastered to his body.
"Fuck, that is one hot looking sight," Lance praised.
He quickly reached down and grabbed Jon's cock, causing him to shudder and shiver.
"You are so fucking hard," he said. "Fuck my mouth."
He covered the head of Jon's cock with his warm mouth and slowly made his way down the hard wet shaft. By the time Lance was in hailing the sweet fragrance created by the wet fur of Jon's bush, he felt the cock swell in size. He knew it wouldn't be long until he would be tasting Jon's sweet man nectar.
As he sucked on the cock, he felt Jon begin to fuck his mouth, grinding his wet bush into his chin. The more he sucked the harder he felt Jon fuck his face.
Jon suddenly cried out, "I'm going to cum!"
Not able to speak, Lance just moaned loudly as if to tell him to go ahead and fill his mouth with his thick creamy load.
"Shit, here it comes!"
Lance felt the first spurt hit his throat, and he worked hard to swallow it all and not lose a drop. He kept on sucking long as Jon's dick continued to shoot heavy ropes of cum into his mouth.
Finally, all passion gone, the two lay there. Lance still had a cock in his mouth, but now it had lost all hardness and was just lying across his tongue. Every once in a while he would gently suck and get just a bit more cum out of it.
When Lance finally let go of his lover's dick, he looked up and grinned. "Did anyone ever tell you what a hot fuck you are?"
"All the time," Jon retorted.
"They better, or they will have to deal with me."
"I'm sure they're shaking."
"Jon?"
"Yeah, Baby?"
"Thank you."
Jonathan asked, "What ever for? Besides the good fucking I just gave you," he added with a grin.
"Especially that and everything else you've done for me."
"Just know that I am here for you, and I always will be."
"Better be careful," he warned Jon. "You never know what may turn up when we get to digging through the skeletons in my family closet."
"Whatever we fine, we fine," Jon told him. "At least we will know something," he added. "Either way, you are stuck with me!"
End Part 25.
Mark