Bolt upright, I sit on the couch, sweating and trying to calm my nerves. Did I yell out loud? The pounding of footsteps on the ceiling above tells me I probably did. I'm clutching the blanket in my white-knuckled fist. It was a dream, I tell myself. Just a dream.
Josh reaches me first. "Jess, are you alright?" He sits beside me on the couch, hands on my shoulders, steadying me. I'm unable to answer just yet, the panic still heavy in my chest. "It was a dream, buddy, just a dream. Deep breaths! Let's calm down, ok?"
Marianne comes up beside him, then goes into the kitchen. I hear her get a towel out of the drawer and moisten it in the sink. She returns and hands it to Josh, who wipes my forehead and face.
Finally able to focus, I look at him, noting his concern. "Yeah", I whisper, "I think I'm ok. Wow. That was intense." I sit for a minute, catching my breath, trying to stop the pounding in my chest. I hear a young voice say "Daddy, what's wrong?"
"Hey Rob," I say, trying to convey levity. "It's ok...your uncle just had a bad dream. I didn't mean to yell out. It's ok now."
With genuine concern, he looks me right in the eye, and whispers, as if sharing a secret, "Was it about school? I have bad dreams about school."
I have to chuckle. With my voice finally returning, I say to him, "No, little buddy, I don't remember what it was, but it was DEFINITELY not about school."
Marianne steers him by the shoulders, "Yes, and you need to get back to sleep so you can get up tomorrow." "Aw Mom!" is the expected response.
"Good night, Robbie!" I call after him. When I hear them on the steps, I turn to Josh.
"Josh, man, that was so real. I was driving along the highway (a raised eyebrow from Josh) and suddenly this car flys out of nowhere. It was red. I remember it as if it were real. It landed on me and the next thing I knew, I was sitting up here on your couch."
"It was only a dream, but I wonder if you had some sort of flashback?" Josh asks. "I think you might want to talk with that counselor lady about this, ok?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think that might not be a bad idea." I reply, somewhat uncertain, and definitely not ready to get back to bed. "Hey, speaking of counselors, did you know that Leslie filed for divorce already?" I get up and walk over to the counter separating the kitchen and the family room. I hand him the envelope. "If you don't mind, could you look this over and advise me on this? She wants to just make this simple and easy, and I don't have the presence of mind to really grasp it all."
"Sure, Jess, I'll be glad to, bro. And now I think you ought to get to bed again. You look exhausted and you need to rest. By the way, did you call Mom?"
"Yeah, I did. Get this! Dad answers the phone, and when he hears my voice, he just hands the phone to Mom. Guess I'm in the shithouse where he's concerned." I say the words with a bit of anger, but it hurts to know my dad's that upset.
"Don't worry about it, man. Just talk to him. I'm sure he's having a hard time with all of this."
I consider that for a moment, and decide he's right. After all, this is going to shock just about everyone. Josh takes my arm and starts to guide me upstairs.
"We asked Jason to stay in Robbie's room for a few days. You know he's got that futon-bunk bed thing. Jason said you can use his room as long as you need it. Come on, I'll help you upstairs."
"Josh, I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for you and Marianne." I say.
"Hey, just hush up with that kind of stuff. What kind of brother would I be if I turned you out into the street?" he says, with a grin. And he actually tousles my hair! I'm 38 and he's still doing that!!
"Wow," Josh says suddenly. "Marianne was right, dude, you HAVE lost some weight!"
"Well, being flat on your back might have something to do with it," I say playfully, giving him a weak punch on the shoulder.
"Pitiful" he says. We bust into laughter, prompting Marianne to "Shh" us from the top of the steps. Snickering, he helps me up to Jason's room. I remove my shirt, and for the first time, get a good look at my body in the full-length closet door mirror. A bit on the thin side, but slimmed up! I wasn't really huge before, mind you, but my stomach was actually flat again!
I turn to check out the backside, and I have to admit...lookin' good!
"Well, Mr. GQ", Josh says playfully from the bedroom door. "Are you going to be ok now?"
I sigh, then look at him and say "You know, I think so!"
Josh turns the light off, and shuts the door. I remove the scrub pants and climb between the obviously-clean sheets. Oh it feels SOO good to be in a real bed again. I sleep nude all the time, but after being in the hospital for a couple of weeks, it feels nice again. Taking a deep breath, I look at the slowly-turning ceiling fan and watch it for a few seconds, making a decision that I've suffered emotionally long enough, and it's time to start to build my new life......tomorrow.
I feel a hand, stroking my cheek. Moaning softly, I welcome the soft touch.
I reach over, feeling a male chest next to me, mostly smooth, with some hair in the center. Strong pecs greet my touch. I rub his chest, and work my way south slowly, marveling at the flat stomach, with just that hot trail of hair leading to...glory. He sits up, stroking my own bare chest. I want to touch him more, but he whispers "No, let me help you relax, ok?" I put my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. He softly and gently rubs up and down my sides, avoiding my hardness, teasing me. He begins to kiss my chest, softly, gently. I marvel at how different it feels. I feel his face, a shadow of hair there, so different than the smoothness I had during my marriage. His hand moves to my thigh, slowly and lightly stroking up and down from just below my balls to my knee. I'm moaning lightly, my hips starting to move to his touch, wanting him to touch me THERE. I feel a wetness form near my navel as my precum starts from all of the excitement. It's been so long. I reach over, and stroke his hair. It's longish, not quite shoulder length. He moans and like a cat moves his head into my hand, wanting more. Finally his hand stops at my knee inside my thigh, and very slowly traces a line up my thigh and lightly......barely....touches my ballsac...causing me to groan loudly. He traces up my left nut, and right up the underside of my hard cock all the way up to the head. Gently, he grasps my shaft and strokes lightly up and down a couple of times, causing more juice to pool below my navel. He moves, and slips my cock between his lips. I yell out, feeling that wonderful sensation that only another guy knows how to provide. He goes wild, sucking and licking, making slurping sounds as he blows me. It's been so long, it doesn't take long before I feel that swelling sensation, that sort of swell and tingle just below my cock. I'm breathing faster and faster, moaning out in time with breaths. He knows I'm close. He knows I'm about to blow. He doesn't stop. He grasps my balls, his hand wet from his own saliva. He flicks a finger just below my balls, and that is enough to push me over the edge. My cum flies from my cock and into his mouth. He moans as he takes my load, becoming gentle with his up and down movements, avoiding making much contact with the head of my dick, knowing it's extremely sensitive now.
My eyes fly open. I'm alone. I'm....in my nephew's room. It's dark. The fan above me still slowly turning. And....I reach down. Sure enough, the sheets and my abs are coated in cum. My heart pounding again for the second time (but this time due to pleasure), I'm now wondering if I've yelled out again. I listen for a moment, trying to hear over the heartbeat in my ears.
No, all is quiet. Now, feeling satisified, I also realize this is going to be hard to explain. Embarrassed, I reach over and grab a Kleenex off the night stand and rub at the spot, then take a couple more and clean myself up. I'm amazed at the size of my load, but then realize that I haven't had sex since.... since.... A flash of memory.... that night with VIC!!! Sitting up against the headboard, I sort through the random thoughts in my head. Oh yeah! I did have an encounter with him. And...with Mark! In the garage!! And....and...what?
I get up and pace the room a bit, every now and then dabbing my dick with a Kleenex to clean up the 'leakage'. OK, I remember....Leslie and I had a fight, then I went to Boxers', then...Mark and I had a fight, and then...I went to....WORK! Why the hell did I go to work? I wonder. And then...Vic was THERE, and ... someone was blowing him, and after that son of a bitch threatened me. Then, I drove home. No, I started to, and then....nothing. I just can't remember.
I decide I'm suddenly very tired, so I crawl back in bed, and fall asleep right away. It's probably the best sleep I've had in days. Luckily, the nightmares don't return, but unfortunately, neither do the "other" dreams, either.
Daylight comes, and I look over at Jason's alarm clock. 11:15?! I get out of bed, and at the foot is one of Josh's bathrobes. I put it on, checking again to see if I really had a good body again first, then head downstairs. Marianne's humming in the kitchen.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. I had fixed you some breakfast, but I didn't want to wake you. Do you want it now, or should I wait until lunch?"
"No, I'll eat it now. I'm famished." She warms it up in the microwave and I dive in. Homecooking was sure a welcome change! I hear someone come out of the bathroom. Marianne calls into the hallway "He's up!"
Mom walks in. "Hi, honey!" She kisses me on the cheek, then sits at the table with me, drinking her coffee. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm better, Mom. Really." I notice her skeptical look. "No, REALLY!" I say.
"OK, well, I was just wanting to see how you were. I heard that you got served the papers. Honey, I'm so sorry."
"Hey, Mom, don't worry about it. It probably had to happen sooner or later.
Leslie deserves to have someone more like her." I shrug "Besides, she has some points."
Mom's voice rises a little in pitch. "Well, I suppose if I have to have a gay son, I'd just as soon he'd be happy. Just let me know if you need anything." She checks her watch. "Oh, I'd better go. I have a tennis lesson at 11:45."
I crack up. "Mom, when are you going to learn that tennis just isn't your game?"
She gives me a look of mock annoyance and pulls on a chest hair or two. "Listen, wise ass, I could whip your butt on the court any day."
"Well, SURE, if you're going to play a cripple!" I laugh back.
"Oh stop. I gotta run." She kisses me on the cheek and she's out the door.
Marianne sits in her chair.
"Jesse, Josh had to go to the office, but he wanted me to tell you that he looked the papers over and he believes in his professional opinion that it's a fair deal, and doesn't see anything that sets off any warning bells. He said if you don't contest it, it could be a done deal in three weeks."
Hmm. I was engaged for a year, we planned that entire year for the wedding, then spent those years together as man and wife, and it all can end in three weeks. Well, par for the course, I guess.
I notice the boys out in the pool. That Jason is getting a good body on him. No, I would never consider "doing" my nephews, but he's going to break hearts some day. The girls already won't leave him alone. Robbie is the typical 11-year old. I realize I promised to call the boys. I pick up the phone and dial my home number, marveling that soon it's no longer my number to call! After two rings, a familiar voice answers. It's Leslie's dad.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Pete. This is Jesse. Are the boys home?"
"Jesse." He says flatly. "NO, the boys are NOT home, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd just keep your faggot self away from my grandsons! You have no business being around here, and I'll not have you corrupting their minds, you sick pervert!" And he hangs up.
Shocked at this, I hang up the phone, feeling that weird feeling of someone in trouble again. Marianne cocks her head, and asks "Aren't they there?"
"Uh....no...I guess not." I say. She's not convinced, but she doesn't press me. She's great at knowing when not to press the issue. So instead she changes the subject.
"Oh, Leslie brought over some of your clothes. I hope they'll fit you. You must have dropped about 20 pounds. She knew that you'd not have anything to wear here."
"Oh, uh, great. I think I'm going to go take a shower." I head upstairs, stripping down again and hopping into the shower. I replay the phone call in my mind. Of course Leslie had to explain to her parents about what was happening, but did she have to OUT me? It hurts a bit, because Pete and Nancy were always so nice to me. Inwardly shrugging, I realize they're probably just as hurt, or at least shocked. Parents. Then I think about my dad. I need to talk to him. I finish up my shower, put on some clothes which now I swim in, but they'll have to do for now. I tighten up the belt.
The shirt looks ok, kind of over-sized. I do without underwear. Those I'll need new. I head back downstairs.
"Marianne, do you think you could take me over to Dad's office? I need to talk with him."
"Sure hon, just give me a second." She goes over to the door, and tells the boys where she's going. They get out of the pool without being told. They know they're not allowed to swim without an adult nearby, even though Jason's 15.
In the car, I'm wondering how this little meeting is going to go. My dad and I are so close. Really, all of the Corey men are very close. His reaction on the phone yesterday puzzles me. It makes me very nervous. Oh man, he won't HIT me, will he?
We pull into the parking lot of the office complex, and walk into the over-A/C'd building. Going up to the fourth floor, we enter his office suite. Corey and Associates. I've always been so proud of him for starting his own firm. His secretary informs me that he's in a meeting, but has some time open right afterward. I tell Marianne she can go on ahead, that I'm sure Dad could drive me back. His office isn't far from Josh's subdivision.
After 20 minutes or so, his client walks out of the office. Brenda, the secretary, calls him on the intercom. "Mr. Corey, your son is here to see you. Very well, sir." She looks at me and says "He said to go on into the conference room."
"Thanks!" I say and walk down the hall. The room is cold, too. I sit at the table. Dad usually brings us in here if there's something private. Less chance of being overheard.
Dad walks in the room, shutting the door. "Josh, what's up? I ... " He stops when he sees it's me. "Oh. Jesse. What are you doing here?" he asks flatly. Feeling intimidated, I build up my courage.
"Well, Dad, I just thought maybe we needed to talk. I mean, you didn't talk to me on the phone, you just handed it to Mom."
"I had things to do." He says, without elaboration.
"Dad, come on. Something's up. I can tell. I mean, hello, I'm your son...I think I know when you're upset."
Dad just looks at me for a moment, as if considering disowning me, or cutting my balls off, or .. SAY SOMETHING!
"Go home, Jesse." he finally says, and exits out of the room. I stand there, dumbfounded. Of all the people that I thought I could count on, it was Dad. And now this. I knew better than to follow him into his office, so I walked back up the hallway in a dream-like state. Would this rift ever heal?
I stepped out into the hot day, and decided to walk back to Josh's house. The more I walked, the more I made up my mind that no matter what, I had to go on living my life. I can't take back what was, so I might as well learn to live with what IS. And if that means that my father can't accept me, then FINE! But it still breaks my heart.
About 20 minutes later, I walk up to Josh's front door and go into the cool house. Covered in sweat, I decide I need another shower. But first....I go to my satchel by the couch where I had that dream and pull out Mark's business card. After the first ring, he picks up.
"Mark Bradford, can I help you?"
"Hey, Mark, it's Jesse. You got a minute."
"Sure, Jess. What's up?"
"Well, I was thinking that maybe you and I could get together tonight? Go to dinner or something?"
"Uh....sure...I think I can swing that. I have a late meeting that should let out at 7:00. You know how it is when you have team members on the west coast! How about I call you when we're done and we can meet somewhere?"
"Sounds good." I give him Josh's number and my cell number. Then I realize I've not heard anything from work lately. I call the voice mail number and access my mailbox. Sure enough, I have about 11 messages. I listen to them all, most of them being well-wishes for my health from various people. The last message is the most surprising.
'Hello, Mr. Corey? This is Squires Salvage and Wrecking Company. Your car was towed here, and we need you to call us with how you'd like to handle the disposition of your car. Please call us at..." and they gave me a number to call.
I decide I better do it now. I call the number, and a pleasant woman answers the phone. "Squires Salvage and Wrecking Company, this is Margo, can I help you?"
"Hi, my name is Jesse Corey. You left me a voice mail about my car? It's the 1999 Honda Accord?"
"Oh yes! Mr. Corey, we have your car in our impound lot following your accident. How are you doing by the way?"
"I'm doing good."
"Good! Well, sir, we need to know what you'd like us to do? Your insurance company informs us that it has been totalled, but we cannot just dispose of it without your approval since it is still under your ownership."
"Ah, I see. Well, it's of no use to me now, so I guess you can just do whatever it is you do with them."
"Very well sir. I'll need you to come and sign a release and transfer of title. Your insurance company has told us they'll pay for the towing."
"OK, I'll try to get down there in the next day or so."
"Fine. We'll see you then." She gave me instructions on where to go, way on the other side of town. I felt kind of funny, knowing my car was beyond repair. Oh well, it's just a car.
Mark calls back, and asks if we can postpone our "date" until Friday night. Apparently he has some family business and then has to work a late shift due to some network problems at the office. I'm disappointed, of course, but I know the nature of our business, so I don't complain.
I spend the rest of the day just relaxing by the pool, watching the boys play in the water. I wish I could join them, but I just don't feel up to it.
I call Mom to ask if she'll drive me over to the salvage yard, but she says she can't. I can't impose on Marianne and Josh, I protest, but she has meetings to go to. Mom does volunteer work, and she's on several boards for them. Naturally the place is only open during business hours, for some bizarre reason, so Mark can't get away from work. Josh finally comes out and says that he convinced Dad to take me. I roll my eyes and say "Dad would just as soon I not show my face around him."
"Well, be that as it may, he's doing it!" Josh says. Josh has a way of getting people to do what he wants, even Mom and Dad. I wish I had that gift!
The next day, Dad shows up bright and early. He's one to get stuff done and not procrastinate. The conversation is stilted, mostly me trying to talk to him, and him giving me one-worded answers back. Finally, I sigh and just sit back, deciding that it's futile.
We arrive at the salvage yard. Dad asks the manager where my vehicle is. The manager offers to take him back to see it. I guess despite his feelings about me, he still is looking out for my interests. I sign over the title and the release forms, then sit on the couch in the waiting area for him to come back.
The door opens, and he walks in, his face ashen. I stand up and ask if he's ready to get going. As I start to walk past him, he stops me, and pulls me into a tight embrace. I hug him back, tentatively at first, but then in a full hug. "Dad, what is it?"
Dad releases me, his eyes bright with emotion. "Son, I just saw your car. I never realized...." he stops, choking on his words. "I didn't realize how close I came to losing you." He pulls me back into his embrace. "I almost lost you, boy. I am SO sorry for how I've been acting. Can you ever forgive me?"
"For what?" I respond. He knows that's my way of saying that all is fine.
We leave the office. He asks me if I want to see the car, but I say no, I'd rather not. On the drive home, he's again silent, but this time thoughtful.
"JD", he says (and the use of his pet name for me tells me he really still DOES care) "You'll need to give me time to get used to all of this...your divorce, your new lifestyle....but I'm concerned. You're not going to get all....strange on me, are you?"
I laugh. "Dad, I'm who I am. I don't think you'll notice anything different, except maybe who I'm with now."
Dad grimaces, but I know it was involuntary. "Well, ok. Just be careful, ok? Promise me that?"
"I will, Dad." I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you too, son." he says back.
My heart is lighter as I know now that my support system is back in place. Everything from this point on will work out. I'll tell him about Pete's reaction later. This is OUR moment.
To be continued.....