Sensitive View

By coxcomb rumbustious

Published on Mar 23, 2005

Gay

We lay with our arms intertwined and Reid seemed relieved that we had gotten beyond our first attempts at making love. He said I'd done fine, even if I knew I had been way fast on the trigger. He smiled and told me it wouldn't be so intense, once I got use to intimacy. It was an odd word, when he used it on me. I understood I had never been exposed to intimacy of any kind. I'd never been close to anyone, minimally trusting a few opportune friends, who kept me from being alone, while knowing nothing about what was inside me. I'd been hearing the word intimacy all my life but the meaning of it and the experiencing of it had nothing in common.

I collapsed inside of Reid's strong arms and trusted the intimacy he furnished me. My face rested on his chest and we dozed on and off, finally getting the rest we'd been denied over the past hectic days. I'd never felt so alive as I did sleeping in the safety of his arms.

I listened to him breathing as his heart pumped under my ear. I felt the wonderful texture of his skin, traced his lips with my finger, tasting them often. He responded to my explorations, even through his sleep. Each time I made a new discovery about his body, he raised no objection, kissing me and holding me tightly, allowing me any and all access. I desired constant contact that afternoon and I never wanted to leave his bed.

My body tingled with excitement and energy. Each time I rose to the occasion and had visions of making it last longer and make it better for him this time, it followed the same pattern as the last time. I'd put my mind to working on his arousal my body would betray me and even the towel we cleaned ourselves off with became useless without some time allowed to dry the sweat and cum running off of us.

Reid smiled and told me to relax and quit worrying about providing high performance. He told me it didn't matter in the larger sphere. He was certain that the long haul mattered more than the short run. We would learn and adjust until we were in total harmony with one another. It wasn't something anyone could see but we'd feel it and the connection we created would never be broken. His confidence didn't seem to have any basis in fact but his words calmed my worries. I did want this to be a magic moment for him.

I tried again in the shower and Reid laughed at my tenacity. He said that I reminded him of him, when he was first finding out about the power he had over men and other boys. When I asked him to tell me about it, he laughed again and told me that was best left for another day, when he'd tell me everything I wanted to know. He doubted that this was the time, as he wanted to make an appearance at Winthrop House. I told him that I was going along and he agreed to take me with him.

This was what I wanted, to be part of the life he lived. I wanted to blend in and not disturb the things he liked doing or needed to do. It was exciting, because I never knew anyone that had serious outside interests. My life had always been about Dane. Mostly what I thought and did had to do with Dane. Since meeting Reid, my life was all about him. I wasn't sure how that worked or why I was suddenly so content with myself.

It was an ordinary building that was once called Ogelthorpe House. After the Winthrop Foundation had taken a major financial interest in its operation, the owners of Oglethorpe House decided to change the name. Later, they handed ownership over to the Winthrope Foundation so it could be run as a non-profit business. Reid explained that it was a business decision and Winthrop House very much had to make money to continue to operate. He seemed confident about what he was telling me.

We walked the staircase, avoiding the office suites and the nerve centers, while he explained the history and present of the place. He had a keen familiarity with the House's operation. He told me he started to grasp a good deal of what was going on, after Rand took up residence. I was surprised to find out that seniors and the dying weren't the only residents.

While on the fifth floor, Reid was hailed from one of the rooms as we passed.

"Hey, Williams, over here," a gruff voice ordered.

Reid backtracked to lean on the doorway of the room we'd just passed and he looked in on a young man not any older than we were.

"What's up?" Reid asked, smiling pleasantly at the nice looking boy and nodding at his visitor.

"We need to, ah, talk. You said you was coming to see me on the weekend. I'm still waiting. I thought you was my friend."

"Yeah, sorry about that. There was business."

"I heard your knob polisher buddy croaked."

"Gage!" a young girl our age reprimanded.

"This is Windy. Reid Williams. He's like the owner. I told you about him. He's cool, even if he is...."

"Hi," Reid said politely.

"He's particularly frisky today," Windy advised. "Don't pay any attention to what he says."

"Who you got with you? Don't waste no time do we," Gage said, stretching to get a better look at me.

"This is my friend, Dane," Reid said, standing aside to present me.

"You another pipe cleaner?" Gage quizzed, checking me closely for flaws before letting his head back down on his pillow.

"I don't know," I answered.

"He is, isn't he? I can pick one out of a crowd. I never knew there was so many. Good thing I'm a live and let live type. You guys are everywhere."

"Takes one to know one," Reid quipped without doubt in his voice.

"Cut that shit out. I ain't that way. You guys do whatever you want to each other. I don't care. Just leave me out of that ballgame."

"That's a deal I have no difficulty making," Reid reasoned.

"Yeah, but I need you to... you know.... You said you was coming up last weekend. It's next week and I'm having the same problem."

"Business keeps me elsewhere. Besides, I thought we agreed that you were going to have your girlfriend take care of that little problem for you. I showed you what she needs to do."

"Reid, I can't ask her to.... You started it and you've got to help me."

"What, Gage. I'll do whatever you like," Windy said, kissing the hand she was holding against her breast.

"See, you can't afford to be self-conscious. You should share things with your girlfriend. She'd want to help and she understands more than you think."

"Yes, Gage. Let me."

"No," he said to her. "Come on back later and we'll get this straight. I explained it to you last week. I need a guy that understands guy stuff. I love Windy dearly, but she ain't no guy. Even you knob polishers can see that."

"Whatever you say, my man. I'm with Dane, so I'll be bringing him along if that's okay. We might not be back tonight."

"He going to be like that other dude, always hanging around my bed?"

"Rand was quite fond of you," Reid said. "He thought there was some hope for you, but I told him I wasn't all that certain. We'll see what we can do."

"For an old guy I guess he was cool. He signed one of his books for me. I got it right here. I might even read it one day. He didn't write about that stuff did he?" Gage asked with concern in his voice. "He was a real writer, right?"

"You need to read the book to discover what he wrote about. I'm not his agent or a book aficionado of any note."

"He go out easy?" Gage asked, his voice softening for the first time.

"He went into a coma and died in his sleep."

"He was okay," Gage endorsed. "A good guy. I don't like talking about dying."

"Yes, he was. I'll try to stop by before I leave or later in the week if not tonight."

"You better," Gage warned. "I told you I need your help on this. I mean it."

"Nice meeting you, Gage's girl. Don't let him take advantage of you. He can reach a lot further than you think."

"Oh, I won't, Mr. Williams," she gushed, holding his hand against her breast as she looked on Reid with some fondness in her eyes it wasn't easy to understand.

"He's a piece of work," I said, after we got out of earshot.

"Paralyzed in a football accident in the fall. He's recovering a little bit of feeling in one hand but he'll never walk again," Reid advised.

"Bummer," I said, seeing myself in his place.

"Yeah, good looking kid. I don't know what kind of life he'll have. His parents have him up here for our physical therapy program. They work with him a few days a week. Keeps him off the streets. He's responded enough to give him hope."

"He knew, Rand?"

"Yeah, Rand use to read to him. He objected at first, but Rand didn't care. He thought the kid should be exposed to literature whether or not he liked it."

"He didn't like it?" I asked.

"He loved it. He wasn't getting much attention, until they brought him over here. Some of the nurses like him and Rand put up with him on his good days. The kid was a bit mouth for Rand though. He wouldn't take that talk from just anyone."

"He knew about you and Rand?"

"Yeah, it's not a secret. I was the one that got him in here. That's about the time we started funding the place almost exclusively. I've got to make another stop. This one is a bit more difficult. If you decide to leave, meet me down by the vending machines near where we came in. I wouldn't recommend eating anything out of them. I've never seen anyone fill one up."

"Not a problem. I'm sticking with you."

We walked down two flights of stairs to the third floor and went into the second room we came to. A blond woman was lying in a bed and she appeared to be sleeping. Reid propped open the door before pulling a chair over to the side of her bed. He took a book off a white nightstand and turned to where he had placed a bookmark and he started to read. Turning the pages he read for about twenty minutes before replacing the bookmark and putting the book back where he got it. He held the woman's hand while standing silently by her bed.

"Goodnight sweet Alice," he said, removing the jam that held the door open, letting it close behind us as we left.

"What was that about."

"That's Alice. Brain injury from a car crash. She's been in a coma for two years. They say that people in a coma can hear familiar voices and their vital signs change, when a familiar voice speaks to them. No one visits her, so I read to her. I try to read every day, but I haven't been doing it for the past week. I couldn't miss another night."

"You think she can hear you?" I asked, not thinking she heard anything.

"Maybe. If you were like that, wouldn't you want someone to read to you to break up the monotony?"

It was a question I couldn't answer and a condition I didn't want to acknowledge. I knew things like that happened to people, but I didn't think it would happen to me, and thinking about it was depressing.

"Mr. Williams, I heard you were prowling our halls."

"Ah, Dorothy. A vision of loveliness this evening," Reid answered. "That sweater is perfect on you."

"Yeah, that aside, we're having trouble with Mrs. Vandermere again. You're the only one she listens to."

"And this is something new. What is our problem this time?"

"She claims the Mr. don't like the food we serve him. She has brought in a recipe for his favorite dish and wants the cook to prepare it for him from time to time. What do I tell the woman? We let her get away with this and we'll be fixing special dishes for everyone and their brother."

"Tell her, if she wants to feed her husband anything she pleases, she's welcome to prepare it and bring it in sanitized containers, but she must sit with him while he's eating it and remove the contains with herself, after he is fed."

"She isn't going to like that, Mr. Williams. She insists we fix the meals. She says she pays enough money that we could cater him and still make a profit."

"Yes, well, Mrs. V. is free to move her husband anywhere she likes. Perhaps they'll enjoy her nit picking more than we."

"Yes, sir. I'll relay the message. I might rearrange the words some. I really don't want to get into it with her. She'll want to hear it from you."

"What's the dish?"

"The dish?" Dorothy asked.

"Mr. V's favorite dish. What is it?"

"A macaroni and cheese affair. It's an old family recipe," Dorothy advised.

"Talk to Gwendolyn. Tell her that Reid wants to know if she could substitute that dish for something on the menu without increasing cost or her labor."

"Gwendolyn doesn't enjoy change, Mr. Williams. She's more difficult than Mrs. V."

"You tell her Reid wants to know if she'd think about it. While you're at it, Dorothy, talk to other resident's families. See if there isn't some dish that doesn't require a major operation to prepare and that the resident might enjoy. Don't ask the residents. I don't want it getting around that they can expect to get served what they want. Just do a quiet survey and tell them we are considering substituting a few family recipes to give the residents a feeling of home. Make no promises to anyone and if anyone causes any trouble, tell them one complaint and Mr. Williams will throw in the towel. It'll only work if it's simple and doesn't increase cost or Gwendolyn's workload. Gwendolyn is to know it's my inquiry and that she has final discretion over any decision."

"She's not going to like this," Dorothy advised.

"You tell her I asked and she won't be a bit of trouble to you," Reid said.

"Yes, sir. I'll follow your orders. By the way, how are you doing?"

"Fine. Thanks for asking. Dorothy, this is my friend Dane."

"Hi," she said, smiling quickly before heading back to where she came from.

"What's that about?" I asked as we headed toward the first floor.

"Why not do something that makes people feel better. If you can without a lot of difficulty, why not?"

"And why is Gwendolyn going to obey Reid and not Dorothy?" I asked.

"I got her the job here. We have some common interests and she's a woman that doesn't forget favors."

"I see, and you're going to make poor Gwendolyn bend to your will."

"No, Gwendolyn isn't prone to bending to anyone's will. She, on the other hand, is always looking for ways to please me. She's a very loyal employee. Here we have a perfect blend of circumstances. She knows I'm asking for her help and at the same time I trust her judgement as the final authority in the matter."

"Your employee?"

"She's a great cook. Why not have a great cook instead of someone who doesn't give a damn what the residents think? She's always looking for ways to improve the menu. She might like the idea of doing special dishes."

"Good point. You got her the job or you gave her the job?"

"Nope, the administration does the hiring and firing. I'm merely a little bug up their butts who reminds them, when circumstances require, I have been known to remind them of where the operating funds come from."

"Yeah, and Dorothy asked you about the food, because?"

"She knew I was the only one who can reason with Gwendolyn. Dorothy doesn't like doing things on her own volition, unless she has someone behind the order. She lost her last job, when no one backed her up over the modernization of a good ole' boy facility."

"Good ole' boy?"

"Lots of folks with a vested interest in keeping things the way they've set them up to keep their pockets lined."

"And Dorothy comes to you, because? Don't tell me, you didn't have anything to do with her employment here?"

"As I recall I did mention her to the administrators."

"Mentioned?"

"Yeah, as I recall, I said, "This is the woman you want to head operations.""

"Where are we going?"

"I need a Coke. You want to eat here or we could stop at Ledo's for pizza."

"Ledo's is too insane," I said. "I don't want to end a day like this with madness."

"Oh, I don't think we'll be ending the day that way. Maybe College Park Inn? They have a great T-bone for two. You like steak?"

"Yeah, can't remember the last time I had steak."

"We shall have it tonight. The place is a bit country but the food is great."

"Sold. A little country is no problem. I did come from the other side of Hyattsville, where country is king."

"Don't remind me. You shouldn't mention that particular mistake to Mother."

"I have a feeling mother doesn't approve of anything," I said. "That's just my opinion."

"Money. Mommy Dearest approves of money in large quantities. It's her one true love, after mommy herself."

We went up to Rand's room, after having soda. It was waiting for Reid to make a final determination on where to put his things before two new residents took his place. Reid became remote and melancholy once inside. A darker mood replaced his usual happy demeanor. He touched things and stood motionless and speechless for long minutes. He seemed unable to focus on the task at hand and as we left, he looked back into the room for a few seconds before he turned off the light and closed the door. It wasn't time yet.

It wasn't easy for him to consider the routine things that needed to be done to close out Rand's life. Once in the car I couldn't keep my hands off him. As we drove up Route 1 I liberated him from his pants and kissed it for several blocks. Amazed at how it responded to my touch.

"Dane, we can't go at it twelve hours a day," he said as we stopped at a light and people cross the street at Riverdale Road looking in on us

"Sure we can. If you can't, I can. I'll carry you," I cheerfully advised, pulling his shirt over his erection and sitting up to find an elderly couple staring in through the windshield. They suddenly scurried faster, not knowing what to make of what they had seen, or maybe they sensed the light was about to change and we couldn't be trusted not to run over them if it did.

"I'm sure you will, but I don't want to get busted while you do. There is a danger that comes with the thrill."

"We are conservative tonight," I said, tucking him back for safe keeping, after we left the light and the disturbed grandparents.

"It's a little risky. Some calculated risks are fine but should I get in trouble, well, it wouldn't reflect well on my future."

"I thought everyone knew about you?"

"No, people that need to know, know," he said. "There are people that would try to hurt me with any knowledge of impropriety."

"It could impact your standing with the board at the foundation?"

"That amongst other things. Having your name associated with scandal, especially one with sexual overtones, is always providing ammunition for those who don't mind taking cheap shots to get what they want."

"You're such a nice guy. Everyone likes you, Reid. You're intelligent, thoughtful, and creative. Why would anyone want to take a shot at you?"

"Good ole' boys? People don't like change, especially if it results in them losing power and money. There are people who will stop change in any way they can. Using someone's personal life against them isn't even a stretch, even if it isn't illegal. There are certain moral codes that are followed regardless of legalities."

"So, you being gay puts you at a disadvantage if it becomes known?"

"Oh, it'll become known. There isn't much doubt about that. As I've told you, I wasn't always the well-adjusted informed lad you see before you today. I have a past and if the stars align against me, they'll ferret out some of the players I played with. I made no attempt to hide my perversions."

"Your mother?"

"Her allies if not her. Once she decides I'm a threat to her power over the family fortune, she'll do all within her power to deny me a seat at the table. She'll have her allies do the dirty work. It wouldn't do for it to appear as though a mother is attacking her son."

"She has allies? She doesn't seem like someone that might breed loyalty."

"No, but if your finances are tied to her success, well, most folks will take the fight right to you if they think you threaten their standard of living and she buys loyalty where she can. She can draw up to ten percent of the foundation's profits as salary in any calendar year. Last years profits and interest amounted to a little over $23 million."

"$23 million?" I asked, alarmed by the number. "That would have been yours if you were in charge."

"I wouldn't take the $2.3 million as salary. I'd take what I needed and leave the rest to build more profit. That's how we decide what we can fund and what's out of our reach. My mother likes funding showy items that bring us notoriety. I'd look into research and ways to enhance the lives of disabled folks. It's a direction my grandfather would have approved of. They did showy things, when they were alive, but the expenditures never amounted to more than a few percent of the profits. Mostly the funding things to help people."

"Gage? What does Gage want? He seems determined to get something."

"Gage? You jealous?"

"Not yet. I don't know what he wants, but it's personal. I got that much."

"What makes you think he wants something?"

"He asked you to perform a service that you once performed but haven't performed since. I don't have a clue what you would do for a paralyzed kid that nurses couldn't do better."

"I'm not babysitting him. Gage has a certain view of the world. While I like him, because he's cute. I don't like his attitude. I put up with him because of Rand and that's where I left it."

"He has a macho athletic view of the world," I observed.

"Something like that. It can't be easily explained. He wants to be intimate with his girlfriend again. He was told that it wasn't going to happen. I showed him how to do it with the agreement that his girlfriend would take over once I introduced him to the technique. You heard him tonight. He has gone back on our deal, but he doesn't see it that way."

"I see. So, you've uh huh... with Gage?"

"Gage hasn't uh huh in some time. He's not capable of it and might never be capable of it, but there are ways to stimulate him to regain some function. It's not certain how much. There's a lot of psychology involved. If he believes he can than he might. If he believes he can't, then he won't."

"But you think he can uh huh if he works at it?"

"I hope he can. If he can't, he'll give up in time. He simply needs to get the girl's co-operation to get him going. That's the problem. He can't ask. He's embarrassed, and that ain't macho at all. It's easier for him to ask me, because I'm a... fag to him and a fag doesn't get his feelings hurt or need to be considered as long as the macho boy is letting him have some access to his wonderful body. I don't play that game and Gage's body ain't what it once was."

"But you aren't a girl and Gage is a homophobe," I observed. "It can't be easy for him to ask you for help in that department."

"Yes, a homophobe that isn't beyond asking for a hand, when it makes the difference between him getting an erection and not."

"Uh huh," I said, and we both laughed.

"Jealous yet?"

"No. Gage is stuck up in that bed and I'm here with you. I've come to figure out that you're pretty ethical about your life. You wouldn't be doing something that didn't benefit Gage. I don't think it goes any further than that."

"That's a pretty damn nice thing for you to say," he said, smiling and putting his arm around me to pull me closer to his side.

"People will see," I reminded him.

"Yeah, they will, won't they."

He kissed my cheek, while trying to watch the road. Traffic had thinned some but Route 1 was always busy.

"Why get involved with someone that hates us?"

"I'm not involved," Reid said.

"He seems to think you are."

"No, he thinks I can help him become a man again, and he'll do anything to be able to screw again."

"Even if he hates us?"

"He doesn't hate anyone. He's like every other teenage guy. He's programmed to think homosexuals are defective and less human than he is, but in times of need, he doesn't mind calling on one."

"Sounds like hate to me."

"I use to suck guys off that hated me the way he does. As long as I was sucking away, taking them to where they needed to go, I was okay. It was only afterward, once they thought about it that they hated me again. I usual didn't hang around for that part."

"I never met anyone like that," I said. "I wanted to meet anyone that would... that I could.... I wanted to do something with someone before I died."

"I met them all. I couldn't even give you an estimate. I always thought one of them would relent and like me, because I made them feel so good, but they never did. I was the means to an end for them and too, stupid to understand the psychology of it."

"Psychology?"

"Yeah, men want sex and they'll go to any length to get it at times."

"It's way complicated for me."

"Sexuality always is. The feelings don't necessarily match the rhetoric, but if the situation demands, you forget the rhetoric long enough to get off."

"What is it he wants you to do?"

"You really want to know?"

"You tell me everything else, shouldn't I know about your boyfriends?"

"I massage his prostate and he gets partially erect."

"How do you do that?"

Reid stuck up two fingers and gave a perverse smile.

"You mean you... in his uh huh?"

"Uh huh."

"He let you put your fingers up there?"

"I told him I knew of something that might help him. When he asked me to explain, he made some rather distasteful remarks."

"What changed his mind?"

"The same thing that changes the minds of the straight boys who take their erections to gay boys who proceed to take care of them."

"He was horny?"

"I don't know if he feels horny any more. He was feeling like he was no longer a man. I offered him some hope. When you put his distaste over the technique next to his desire to feel like he's still a man, you'd get the same response from a lot of men. After we discussed it, it took about a week for him to ask me to try it, but he made it clear he'd kick my ass if I acted like I enjoyed it."

"How do you know about such things?"

"Rand. He couldn't get hard any more. A doctor told him to get his prostate massaged by his lover. I was elected. It doesn't always work, but sometimes it does. A lot depends on state of mind."

"It worked for Rand?"

"Naturally. We hadn't had sex in months. I was climbing the walls, learning to deal with my feelings and not act on them."

"It worked."

"Like a charm. Then his pain increased and they were giving him more and more heavy-duty drugs. He stopped thinking about sex. That's when I knew he wasn't going to beat it."

"He was old," I observed.

"Rand? He could screw circles around me. He paced himself. Three or four times a night if everything was working correctly. It was only after he got sick that his interest in sex waned. He could still give me a run for my money. I had always been more interested in getting someone else off. I thought that's what love was about for a long time."

"Don't old guys peter out?"

"Depends on the old guy. Rand didn't age until he got sick. He had brown hair until last year. He was fit and handsome and wore me out more often than not. He played tennis, swam, and jogged until he got sick. He lived a way healthier life than I've lived."

"He sounds like a great guy," I said.

"Yeah, saved my life and I couldn't save his."

"You stayed with him until the end. I think that's all he expected."

"Yeah, I'd rather have saved his life."

"You want to be a doctor?"

"No, I'm not that smart. Maybe I'll be able to fund research one day. I'd like to get into that end of it, once I'm in charge."

"You're pretty sure you're taking over, aren't you?"

"Yeah, it's all but a done deal. My mother will put up a fight, but you've met her. How many people do you think will fight for her?"

"Doesn't your mother think she's taking over? That's bound to piss her off."

"She has taken over. I'm a minor child. She can do anything she wants within the limits of the Foundations charter. Mostly she wants to make money. We're worth a lot of money. Luckily she can't get to most of it. My grandfather was smart enough to keep it out of reach."

"What's it going to cost you to get Martha's vote."

"Cost?"

"What does she get out of the deal?"

"Nothing. She'll sign it over to me on my next birthday."

"Come on. Control of a big foundation rests on her vote and she's going to give it to you?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, Reid. No one is that naïve."

"Oh, you think it's about the money. It's about loyalty, my young love. I've got Martha's loyalty. What ever I ask her to do, she'll do. Besides, it's the promise she made to my grandfather before he died. She'd hold the one vote until I was twenty-one. Then, she was to turn it over to me, so I'd be in charge."

"How'd your grandfather know you weren't going to turn out to be a money grubbing dickhead?"

"My grandfather knew that Martha would raise me. He had complete confidence in her ability and in her judgement. She was with him for years and years before she was with me."

"I don't see how he could have known you would turn out okay."

"Faith. He trusted that it would all turn out fine with Martha raising me. Besides, I've got the Winthrop genes. He believed in that as well."

"Amazing. I don't understand but it sounds amazing. You could have turned out all wrong."

"Came close to it. I was not a nice lad for a long time."

"What happened?"

"Rand. Martha knew when to put her foot down and when to give me room. My inbred character emerged as their influences took hold. I grew up. Lots of things helped."

"So, you aren't giving Martha a damn thing for a vote that makes you worth millions?"

"I didn't say that. I said she would give it to me without asking for anything."

"So, you'll take care of her?"

"Yes, I will. She took care of me for long enough. I'll make certain she's taken care of for as long as she lives and her husband, too."

"All my life I've been looking for someone to love; anyone. I can't believe I found someone like you. I don't know if I've ever met anyone like you," I said.

"The fates had a design in mind. I've never fallen in love with anyone before," Reid admitted with a smile as he glanced my way.

"Rand?" I questioned.

"I knew Rand for three years before I asked him to be my lover. I knew I'd die if I kept going back to the streets, to the park, to a hundred places where I went to find sex."

"You were sixteen and you knew all those places."

"I met guys. They introduced me to other guys. I hung around with guys from the university. They showed me where they went to meet other college guys. You know how many horny college guys there are?"

"Counting me, a few," I reasoned.

"I was sixteen, going on forty, and addicted to it. Rand stopped having sex with me a long time before that. He told me he wouldn't have sex with strange guys."

"He said that."

"Yes, he did. He said a lot of nasty stuff. He called me a tramp and a low life. He didn't pull his punches."

"Why'd you want him to be your lover?"

"I knew he was telling me the truth. He took me in any time I came around. He fed me and gave me a bed, but he refused to sleep with me. I got in bed with him a few times, after he went to sleep. He wouldn't let me do anything but hug him and sleep with him. I knew he cared about me and I knew I was killing myself."

"How'd you get out of it?"

"I decided I wanted to live. I'd sucked enough cock to know I wasn't getting anything out of it, not what I wanted anyway. It seemed like the thing to do. Rand was the father I never had but to gain his respect I had to stop sleeping around. He went along with me, when I told him what I wanted. He needed me like he needed another hole in his head, but he cared enough to give me what I wanted. I don't think he thought I could be monogamous. Next thing we knew, we were in love."

"Sorry I didn't know him. I would have liked him."

"Yeah, I think you would. He'd like you."

rumbustiousboy@yahoo.com


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