Hello everyone...I'm back! I can't believe it's been over a year and a half! Sorry for the hiatus. I became very close friends with someone that emailed me through this story process, and it sort of took my mind away from it for awhile. Since I've not really thought about the characters and stuff, forgive any inconsistencies from previous chapters, please.
Chapter 28
I stand at the kitchen sink, washing the breakfast dishes, looking outside. Well, I can't help but look outside. My naked lover is out there diving into the pool. I grin. He's such a show-off. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in here washing dishes with a hard-on. Mark moved in with me a few weeks after that blissful night of making love and scarfing down pizza. It's been so amazing to me that I have someone in my life that I'm totally into, and he's totally into me. I realize as I muse over this for the millionth time that I'm standing here in my Speedos, with a hard on, a dripping glass in my hand, and the water running. Shaking myself out of my reverie for the third time, I vow to finish this so I can go jump his ass. Mark looks over at me, grinning as he KNOWS what I'm thinking about. He jumps into the pool with a twist. Damn I love that body of his. With a sigh, I put the last glass into the dishwasher. That party we had last night was a huge success, and as a gift to my sweetie, I offered to clean up this morning. It's not every day that we have a 5th anniversary. I walk into the living room, passing the big mirror in the hall. I stop and check myself in profile, sighing. Marital bliss is starting to show...and it's not looking too good. I promise myself to start taking care of myself before it's too late. Even as I make this promise, I'm painfully aware that my latest bloodwork still has results pending. Shaking off my worry, I head outside to join Mark in the pool. We spend the day splashing, sunning, and scarfing food. OK, I think...I'll start TOMORROW on my diet. Hours later, Mark helps me prepare dinner. Tonight it's just the two of us. I ask Mark what he'd like to do, and he says just a simple dinner and maybe a nice movie. We both love comedies. As I'm preparing the vegetable, the phone rings. "Hello?" "Mr. Corey, please." A woman's voice. Official sounding. "Speaking." I reply. "Jesse, this is Doctor Fischer's office calling. I have the results of your blood work." I gulp. "OK, shoot." "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but you have diabetes." she says, not too apologetically, if you ask me. "Oh god." "Yes, sir. The doctor would like to see you." she states. "OK, when can you get me in?" I ask, my hands sweating. Two thoughts hit my brain at the same time. 1 - I'm gonna start losing body parts. 2 - Maybe now I'll lose that weight. I hear her typing on her computer. "Well, we have an opening in two weeks. Shall I put you down for that Monday?" TWO WEEKS?! "Listen, you tell me I have this, and you are going to make me wait two weeks?" I ask, my voice rising. "No, that's not acceptable. I need to get in sooner than this!" Now Mark is at my side, the fear totally on his face. He looks at me questioningly, but I cannot answer him right now. My eyes can't focus, and I'm cold with terror. She does some more typing on a keyboard. "OK, well, the doctor says he can work you in tomorrow at 2:00pm. But understand that because we're working you in, he won't be able to spend as much time as he'd like with you for this appointment." "Fine." I say flatly. "I'll take it." I hang up the phone, the shock settling in, along with panic, fear...oh my god. I walk slowly to the couch and sit down. Mark is by my side in a flash. "Baby, you're terrifying me. What is it?" he asks, HIS voice now rising. "I'm a diabetic." I say simply. Then it hits, and I bust out in sobs. Mark pulls me into him, my head on his chest. I'm shaking, and he holds me tightly. "Oh no...oh god, no." he says, crying himself. I pull away suddenly, and start pacing. "I knew I was overweight and in the risk category, but I didn't know I was THAT far into it." I say, trying to rationalize it. I look at the counter and notice my open can of Pepsi. REGULAR Pepsi. Small wonder, I think to myself. I go over and immediately dump it down the drain. The food half-prepared on the counter looks unappetizing...dangerous. My brain is racing a mile a minute, thinking of all the things I have to give up. Everything. What am I going to EAT? I start crying again, mourning for all the good foods I enjoy which I don't think I'm going to be able to ever eat again. Mark comes up behind me, his hands comforting on my shoulders. "OK, babe, hold on now...let's try to get a grip on things here. We don't know how bad things are. Maybe you're just border-line, or maybe the results could be wrong, or..." he breaks off, realizing that he's trying to grasp at straws. "Anyway, see what the doctor has to say, ok?" Mom. I need my mom. I call her up right away. "Hello?" "Mom...it's me." I stop..unable to continue. "Jesse? What's wrong?" Moms always know. But it takes me a minute to get my voice to actually produce sound. "Mom..I...I'm...I just found out I have diabetes." I stammer between choking sobs. She exhales. She does that when she's working around a thought. "OK...sweetheart, I'm so sorry to hear that. But honey, you have to calm down. Many people live perfectly healthy lives with this." "But I'm going to lose my feet, or go blind, or..." I stop...more panic setting in. "Not necessarily, honey. Do you have an appointment with the doctor?" "Yes, tomorrow." "Ok, then, honey calm down and let's see what they have to say before we get ourselves worked up. I know it's hard, but...Jesse, this isn't necessarily a death sentence." "I don't know what I can eat, Mom! What can i drink? Everything is going to kill me!" I start to get angry, frustrated. Mark just watches me...knowing I'm on the edge, and ready to come to me and comfort me when I need him. He knows me too well. "Jesse, listen to me. You can eat what you want to eat, but you'll have to modify your diet. Your Aunt Pam had this, and she lived for a long time with it, remember?" I take a huge breath and let it out slowly. Mom always knew how to get me to think logically and calmly. "OK...you're right. I don't have all the facts, but in the meantime, what should I do about tonight? I haven't eaten yet." "Well, what were you fixing?" Funny...I forgot. Oh yeah... "Well, we had a steak on the grill"... I bump Mark, reminding him it's still out there ... "and some corn and noodles, and biscuits." Mom mulls it over, then offers: "OK, replace the noodles with green beans, and have just one biscuit only. And maybe drink tea or water instead of soda." Yeah, right. Mom continues: "Even still, if you have what you fixed, it's probably ok for tonight, hon. I do know that your aunt would have similar meals...just don't stuff yourself, and don't worry. This isn't going to harm you immediately. Talk to the doctor and get some education on it." Leave it to Mom to know what she's talking about, and I trust her because my mom is SHARP! I sigh. "OK, Mom...thanks...I'll let you know what I find out." Mark and I finish dinner, although I don't eat very much, then we flop down onto the couch and watch the movie, but my heart isn't into it. I cuddle up against him...and fall fast asleep. Sometime during the night, he managed to get me into bed, and I awake with my head on his bare chest. I love how he's smooth except for this line down the middle. I kiss him on his heart, and get up. In the shower, I lose control again. How am I ever going to live with this? I wonder to myself. As I'm showering, I feel Mark enter, his hands running down my bare back. I turn and face him, as he pulls me into his embrace...my favorite place to be. "Hey, sweet baby. How are you doing this morning?" he asks, gently. I bury my face where his neck meets his shoulder, my sobs racking my body. He gives a light chuckle, "Not so good, huh?" He holds me close, the water running down my back and ass. Unfortunately, my body doesn't respond. Sex is the furthest thing from my mind at this point. Mark washes me, keeping contact with my skin at all times. It's so comforting and relaxing. He doesn't say anything, just letting his loving touch be healing to me. Afterwards, we get dressed, and he fixes me a light lunch (because we slept in so late.) I call into the foundation offices to let them know we'd not be in today, and that I was definitely taking some time off. Being boss has its perks. Mark informs me that he's driving me to the doctor and there'd be no arguments. He was going to be there for me. Upon arriving at the doctor's office, there was the usual 60-minute wait, followed by more waiting in the little room. Mark knows me well enough to know to not say much, or try to be the optimist when I'm nervous. It only aggravates me. His silent presence is comforting, though. Then, it happens. The dreaded soft-knock on the door, and in walks Dr. Fischer. "Ah, Jesse...how are you doing?" he says in a friendly tone. "Well," I say, my voice raspy, "it depends on what you're going to tell me." "Ah yes, ok. Let's take a look at these results here." He opens the folder and reviews the litany of problems. "OK, your blood sugar count is 217. That's high. We'd expect to see that under 100. Your bad cholesterol isn't too bad, but you're controlling that with medication. Your good cholesterol is low. Your triglycerides are extremely high...in the 500's. We'd like that to be about 1/5 of that. So, my friend, what are we going to do about this?" he asks, in a fatherly way. Out pops my German temper. "Well, what CAN I do?" I ask, exasperated. "Jesse, I'm going to be blunt here. These numbers aren't good, BUT, it's not too late to do some reversals. Unfortunately, your fasting blood sugar indicates that you are, in fact, a Type II diabetic. If you weren't, that would be below 100. HOWEVER, I think that you might be able to manage this with a change in your diet, and start exercising. It's important! You weighed in at 234. You're 5'8", so you should be around 170-175." My eyes widen. I'm 234?! "I guess I didn't realize that I was that far overweight." Mark speaks up. "I never would have guessed that, Jess." I smile at him. Dr. Fischer continues, "Well, be that as it may, your body-mass-index, or BMI, for your height and weight put you in a high risk category. Unfortunately, we're seeing this in younger and younger people. On a positive note, your blood pressure is good, and you're otherwise in healthy shape. Let's see what we can do with diet and exercise." He pulls out a packet of papers. "Now, you will need to start monitoring your sugar, but we'll wait until you see the diabetic educator. Make an appointment right away. They're right here in the clinic offices. Cut back on foods with high carb content. I'd avoid sugary drinks, such as Pepsi or Coke, but diet verisons are ok. Also try to cut back on calories. After you see Diane, then set an appointment to have your counts checked again." He hands me the papers and stands to go. "I'm sorry I can't talk with you more about this now, but make an appointment with DIane and then with me again and we'll spend more time on this." and he ushers us out. He sees my look of frustration. "Don't worry, Jesse. This is manageable, and I know you're probably worried about long-term effects. Most people that have those problems have abused themselves for a long time. It takes years for the most part. I know that your tests last year were normal, so you're not in that bad of shape yet." He pats me on the shoulder and scuttles off to his next patient. Sighing, we make our way to the front, pay the copay and in the parking lot, I call the educator and set up the appointment. "Do I really look that fat, Mark?" I ask in the car. "Babe, I swear, I don't think so. I mean, yeah, you've put on a few pounds, but..." he stops. I look over at him, and can tell he's struggling not to hurt my feelings. I pat his shoulder. "It's ok, babe." I say to him. "I guess I didn't realize." Back at home, Mark leads me up to our bedroom. I lay down on my stomach, exhausted from this whole ordeal. I feel the bed give as he sits next to me. He runs his hand under my shirt and up my back. I let out a little moan, feeling some tension melt away at his touch. He brings his hand back and gently rubs my butt. He knows I enjoy that. He gently and softly asks me to take off my shirt, and then straddles me and massages my back. As my back grudgingly gives in to his skillful hands, some other muscles do their thing and my cock begins to respond. Never fails. Mark gently tugs at my waist band and I raise up to let him slide my shorts and undewear down my legs and off. He continues his massage, working his way down...down...down...until he's working my inner thighs, conveniently yet softly managing to get light strokes on my scrotum. I roll over onto my back, and Mark, having taken his shirt off, lays down so his elbow is between my legs, his body lying perpendicular to mine. His right hand caresses my abdomen, and I suddenly feel fat, bloated. My erection begins to subside. Mark always has been intuitive about what I'm thinking. "Hey, my beautiful man" he says. "Do you know that I love you?" I nod, staring at the ceiling. I feel defective. "Do you know that I will always love you?" he asks gently. I love how his voice gets husky when he's being sweet. I nod again, a tear drops from my eye. Right in my ear. Nice, I think, and sigh. I hate that. His hand moves down my belly, and around the base of my cock, slowly sliding up my semi-erect shaft, which, gratefully, responds. "Mm, yeah" Mark says softly, barely a whisper. He is SO damned sexy. His left hand lightly strokes that sweet area between my hole and my balls as his right hand continues to gently stroke me. A drop of precum works its way from my cock. I close my eyes, putting my arms under my head. Mark leans over and teases the precum with his tongue, causing more to work its way out, my cock pulsing. Then he slowly opens his mouth wide and lowers his head down my cock slowly, I feel his hot breath, and when he reaches close to the bottom, he closes his lips around my shaft and slowly draws upward, his tongue pressing against the bottom of my shaft. I moan loudly. I look down and see that he's erect in his jeans. I start to reach over to touch him, but he grabs my left and and gently pushes away, telling me silently that this is just for me. I content myself to look at his body, shirtless, with jeans, straining against his erection. He continues this up and down slow motion for several minutes. For that time, my mind lets go of the last 24 hours. I begin to feel that familiar tingle right below my balls, knowing I was about to be the one to give him a treat. Mark senses that I'm getting close and begins to work my cock a little faster, slowly building to a crescendo of lust and excitement. My legs involuntarily move , bending and straightening as I approach the peak of sexual energy. I feel that magical sensation in the base of my cock as my body prepares to explode, it creeps up my cock and I feel everything inside tense and tighten as if a spring coiling. Then, it happens...my cock bursts into Mark's mouth as I let out a yell, knowing that I am filling his mouth with my cum. Mark moans in his throat as he tastes and feels me spurting. I hear that sexy sound of him swallowing my gift to him. He slows up as I shoot, knowing the head gets very sensitive. He flicks that sweet spot below and under the head, causing more spasms of pleasure. I sigh and stretch as he keeps me in his mouth, getting every possible last drop. Once I'm spent, Mark swings around and cuddles against me, his head on my chest, his hand stroking my abs again. And again, I become painfully aware of my obesity. Oh god. I'm obese, I realize. The doctor said so, I just missed it. He's been on me about losing weight...why oh why... Mark knows what I'm probably thinking. "Babe, it's ok. I never saw you as anyone but who you are. I love you the way you are now, just as much as I loved you when we first met. You don't look like you weigh that much sweetheart." he says lovingly. "Thanks. I guess now I have a good reason to lose the weight." I sigh. "I'll help you, babe. I'll help you eat right, and we'll make it work. I promise." "Thanks, Mark. Really. I am going to need the help." We say very little and I drift off into sleep, feeling protected if not healthly. To be continued... --------------- Sorry for coming back into this with such a dark chapter. Fact is, I just went through this at the start of the year. A lot of what was written is first-hand experience. But...there's good news on the horizon... Jeff