The Caregiver

The Caregiver

By Tom Borden

John Packard entered the San Antonio General Hospital emergency room at a running clip. He inquired at the desk as to where he could find Dr. O'Neal.

"Dr. O'Neal is in the surgical area, Sir. You can take that elevator to the fourth floor."

When Packard stepped off the elevator, he went directly to the nurses' station. "I need to see Dr. O'Neal, please."

"I'm Dr. O'Neal," a voice said from behind the desk.

"I'm John Packard, Mrs. Carter's attorney. I came as soon as you called about the accident."

Dr. O'Neal took Packard by the arm and led him into a small consultation room. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Packard. I'm afraid I have bad news. Mrs. Carter passed away not long before you arrived. We tried, but there was little we could do to save her. Her injuries were massive."

Packard leaned forward in his seat. "But how about the boy, her son Bobby? I was at their house this morning and saw them drive off. She and the boy were on their way to Austin for a scholarship interview at the University."

"He's in critical condition, Mr. Packard. We had him in surgery all morning, but we couldn't save his right leg. It was crushed so badly, we had to amputate it just above the knee. He also had several broken ribs and a good many cuts and bruises on his face and body."

Packard covered his face with his hands. "Oh, my God. How terrible. He's been the star baseball player for his high school team. It's so sad."

"Mr. Packard, we found your name in Mrs. Carter's purse, but found no other names that were listed to call in case of an emergency. Do you have the names of other family members?"

"No. It was just Louise Carter and Bobby. Her husband died when Bobby was only a baby, and there were no other relatives." Packard took a deep breath. "My good Lord. Bobby's all alone now. What a tragedy. He's only seventeen. In addition to Louise's legal matters, I also handled all her money and finances. And I'd better notify Bobby's girlfriend, Lisa. They were very close."

Just then, Packard looked out the open door and saw Lisa at the desk. He rushed out to meet her.

"Lisa. You've heard?"

"Yes, I heard about the accident on my car radio. Where is he? Can I see him?"

"He's had surgery and is in recovery. I don't know when you'll be able to visit him. It was a very bad accident, and I'm so sorry to tell you it was necessary to amputate one of his legs."

Lisa burst into tears. "Oh, no. Oh no."

Dr. O'Neal came out and said, "You may be able to see him later this afternoon or evening."

"No, no," she screamed. "I can't see him. His leg was cut off? No, I can't see him. It's too terrible."

"What's the matter? He'd want you to be with him."

"Don't you understand? I can't have a boyfriend who's got only one leg. It's awful." Lisa turned and ran for the stairs and disappeared.

Packard turned to Dr. O'Neal. "I'll talk with her later. I'd better go now and make the funeral arrangements for Mrs. Carter and, for Bobby's sake, get the financial affairs in order. I'll be back this evening. Hopefully, I'll be able to see the boy then."

After Packard departed, Dr. O'Neal left orders at the desk that a nurse would be needed to tend to the boy throughout the night. Because of the nature of his injuries, he though a male nurse would be best. The Head Nurse called for Ricky Faulkner to come to the desk.

When Ricky arrived, she said, "Ricky, we need you to stay on the night shift to attend to a very sick accident victim. His name's Bobby Carter and he'll be in Room 312."

"But I've already made plans. My girlfriend Carla and I have reservations for dinner. She'll really be disappointed. This happened last week, too, if you'll recall."

"It can't be helped," the head nurse said, as she went back to her paper work.

Ricky and Carla lived together in an apartment not far from the hospital. He dreaded having to call her.

"Carla, we have to cancel tonight. I'm needed here on a bad case."

"You're making a habit of this, Ricky. I'm all dressed and ready to go."

"I'm sorry Carla, it's my job."

"I have to tell you that your job and I are not very compatible."

"Oh, don't be that way, Carla. I love you." Ricky heard a click on the other end.

He went directly to Room 312 just as Bobby was being wheeled in on a gurney. Although the boy was still not conscious, Ricky busied himself setting up the IV and other paraphernalia needed. After awhile he sat by the bed and looked at Bobby. He'd seen a number of accident victims over the past three years since he became a nurse, but Bobby's condition almost made him want to cry. Only seventeen, he thought. Why?

Ricky spent the night checking the IV and the dressings on the boy's injuries. He'd been told that the boy was now all alone in the world, and when he looked at the fully bandaged stump of Bobby's right leg, a helpless feeling came over him. How could life be so unfair.

Early the next morning, John Packard returned and stood looking down at Bobby. "The doctor told me he'll be sedated for the next day or so and recommended that he not be told about his mother's death until sometime later. I'm glad you were with him last night, Ricky. I hope you'll continue to be his nurse. I don't know whether or not his girlfriend will be coming around to visit him. Yesterday, she acted as though she never wanted to see him again. You know, a boyfriend with only one leg was not something she was ready to accept."

"I'll be here, Mr. Packard. I don't know why I'm always assigned these heartrending cases."

"I'm sure, young man," Packard said, patting him on the shoulder, "it's because you've got a heart and want to be a part of their recovery."

Ricky smiled. "Maybe."

"May I ask how old you are?"

"I'm twenty-five and am well experienced in this kind of case. You needn't worry."

When Ricky returned to his apartment later that morning, he found Carla, fully dressed and asleep on the sofa. On the coffee table was an ashtray full of cigarette butts and a glass half-full of something that smelled like Gin.

He shook her. "Wake up. I'm home."

She opened one eye and peered up at him. "So you are. I hope you had a good time last night. I had a ball."

"I thought you were trying to quit those cigarettes. We had an agreement."

"Fuck you, Ricky." She sat up and held the ashtray under her nose. "I finally realized these are the only friends I have anymore."

Ricky turned and went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing looked good. He wasn't hungry. In the bedroom, he stripped down and went in to take a shower. As he lathered up his body, he thought about how things were getting worse and worse between Carla and him. He loved her, though. And the sex was always good. She was the best cocksucker he'd ever known. And she liked it up the ass, too. No other woman he'd ever been with liked that. As he lathered up his crotch, he could feel his penis getting hard. It took him only a few strokes to bring him to orgasm. He watched the pearly white sperm as it swirled down the drain, and thought about the tons of it he'd pumped into Carla over the three years they'd been together.

He got dressed and left immediately without a word to Carla, who was still sitting on the sofa with another cigarette between her fingers. He would get some rest in the Nurses' lounge at the hospital.

Ricky spent the next three nights tending to Bobby. The boy was finally fully awake on the fourth day. That morning, Ricky found Mr, Packard standing by the bed.

"Ricky," he said, "I want you to stay in here while I tell Bobby about his leg and also about his mother's death. I know it will be hard on him, and perhaps you can help. Maybe give him another sedative or whatever you do in cases like this."

Mr. Packard took Bobby's hand and very quietly told him that it had been necessary to amputate one leg.

Bobby quite calmly said, "I know." It was almost as though he really didn't believe it. Then looking up into both Packard's and Ricky's faces, he said, "Where's mother? Is she here?"

When Packard told him that she hadn't made it and had died of severe injuries, Bobby fell apart and cried uncontrollably.

Ricky took the boy's hand in one of his and, with the other, caressed his head, brushing his thick blond hair back out of his eyes. "It's all right, Bobby, go ahead and cry. I'm here with you."

Bobby clutched Ricky's hand as though it were a lifeline. With his other hand he grabbed hold of Ricky's bare arm and held onto it almost like a drowning man grasping a life jacket.

Ricky had been in these situations a number of times before and had always been in firm control of his emotions. But to see this particular young man hurting so much and crying, tore him apart. Tears began to roll down his own cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Packard. I don't know what's the matter with me."

Packard patted Ricky's shoulder. "I understand. What's happened is hard for all of us to deal with."

"It's all right now if you want to go," Ricky said. "I'll stay here with him. We'll get through this."

Packard touched Bobby's cheek and left quietly.

Ricky held onto the boy's hand and continued to caress his hair until Bobby became calmer.

Bobby looked up into Ricky's eyes, now red and wet, while continuing to hold tightly to Ricky's hand and arm.

"Hi, Bobby. My name's Ricky, and I'll be here with you as long as you want me to be."

More tears began to well up in Bobby's eyes. "Is it really true what he told me?"

"Yes. But you're alive, and you're going to be all right."

"Lisa? Does Lisa know? She's my girlfriend."

"I think she does." Ricky didn't tell him about her reaction when she was told.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Bobby. I'm sure she'll come."

"Could you call her for me? I can't remember her number right now. But it's in my wallet, I think. Do you have my wallet?"

"Yes, we have it." Ricky was angered when he heard about Lisa's reaction. He knew that Lisa didn't intend to come back to see Bobby.

Ricky rose up and removed Bobby's hand from his.

"Where are you going, Ricky. Please don't go."

"I'm just going into your bathroom for a minute. I have to pee."

Ricky stood at the toilet and felt his eyes burning and tears literally gushing down his cheeks. He just let them flow freely. When he'd looked into Bobby's face, the boy's big brown eyes seemed to call out for someone to help him . . . to help him understand. He'd felt a compulsion to take Bobby into his arms and hug him tightly. If it weren't for the broken ribs and the heavy bandaging around the boy's torso, he would have done it. There was something about this boy and his desperate need for Ricky to be with him and not leave him. In Ricky's entire life, no one had ever demonstrated a need for him. Not his parents, not Carla, no one. Carla wanted to be waited on and pampered . . . and fucked. But she really didn't need him for any of that . . . for anything. What was wrong with him? He'd never felt exactly like this with anyone, much less with one of his patients. What was it about this boy that was so endearing?

Ricky volunteered to spend the ensuing nights with Bobby, always to Carla's distress. Each night he bathed the boy and found it strangely exciting to feel his light skin on his fingers, so clear and unblemished, except for his bruises. He could feel that Bobby was giving himself, his whole body to him, almost like a baby would give himself up to his mother's caresses. As he was being bathed, Bobby would sometimes hold on to Ricky's arms as he trained his eyes on Ricky's face.

One night after Ricky had given him his bath, Bobby talked about his mother, obviously a woman of great love and tenderness. Ricky wondered briefly if the boy looked at him as a mother. And did he love him as his mother, or did Bobby feel something different for Ricky. When Bobby looked as though he was ready to sleep, Ricky instinctively leaned over and kissed the boy on his cheek. He'd never before touched his lips to another man's skin, but this kiss sent what felt like an electric shock through his veins.

As Bobby slept, Ricky usually dozed in a chair next to the bed, often bent over with his head on the covers. Throughout the night, he'd awaken several times to check the IV and watch his breathing. He looked into the boy's face and wondered if there could ever be anything as sweet as the face of a sleeping boy. So child-like. So innocent. Carla's sleeping face came to his mind. Although she was pretty enough, there was a hardness to it, a sort of selfish, self-absorbed expression that was common to all the women he'd known. In Bobby's face, there was a profound vulnerability and a look of trust. Trust in him . . . that he, Ricky, would be there and would take care of him.

One morning, Ricky awoke with Mr. Packard standing beside him.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Ricky said. "I was awake and re-filled his IV, but I must have gone back to sleep."

"I know you've been very constant with Bobby the last several of weeks," Packard said, "and you deserve your sleep. But our young man has a future coming up that needs to be dealt with. Since he has no one, and he's not yet of age, a guardian needs to be appointed. On top of that, he won't be able to go back to his home and live alone. So other arrangements need to be made. I've gathered the information I need from the hospital, and I'll be going to have the court consider what can be done for him."

As Packard was talking, Ricky helped Bobby into his wheelchair. He stood behind the boy and looked up at the man.

"Mr. Packard, why couldn't I be his guardian? We've become very close, and I'm sure he'd like that. And on top of that, he trusts me."

Bobby turned his head and looked up at Ricky with a broad smile.

"You?" Packard looked hard into Ricky's eyes. "It would be a bit unusual, but I admit it might be better than some stranger taking him on. But that will have to be decided by the court."

"I have a nice first-floor apartment and he'd have his own room. And I know all the doors there are wide enough for a wheelchair. He's due to have his first fitting for a prosthesis. But he doesn't have to stay in the hospital for that. I can drive him in each day."

"We could give it a try. I'll need to present to the court complete background information on you with references, and all that sort of thing, to show that you would be fit for such a responsibility. And of course, the child welfare people will have to get involved."

Several days later, Ricky and Mr. Packard laid out the facts before the judge. The child welfare people, however, were not in favor of Ricky taking the boy to live with him as guardian. They didn't like the fact that Ricky was not married to the woman he lived with. It would not provide a good family atmosphere.

Mr. Packard argued that Bobby would be eighteen within the year, and what he needed was not a family atmosphere, but someone who took a great interest in him during his recovery.

The judge agreed, and Ricky was promptly appointed Bobby's guardian.

"You're what?" Carla exploded. "You're bringing that cripple here to live with us? You're out of your mind. What about us?"

"Yeah, what about us?" Ricky said. "This happens to be my place, and I make the decisions as to who lives with me."

"I suppose, while you're off doing your thing at the hospital, I'll be expected to sit here and take care of him. Is that the idea?"

"No that's not the idea. I'm taking two weeks vacation, so I'll be here to help him."

"Then after you go back to work, he'll be my job. I'm sure that's what you have in mind."

"Wrong again. While in the hospital, he's been learning a lot about how to take care of himself. You can go about your business and not be bothered. I'll take care of any needs he has."

Bobby was delighted finally to leave the hospital and move into Ricky's apartment where he would have his own room. But most important, he would be near Ricky. He was acutely aware and thought it rather odd that he had hardly given a thought to Lisa. His most pleasant thoughts were now centered around his growing relationship with Ricky. Not only was Ricky an enormous help to him, it was the feel of his hands on his body during his baths, along with the sweet look of longing in Ricky's eyes that strangely excited him. The times when Bobby ran his hands over the soft hair on Ricky's muscular arms were erotic enough to make his penis jump and throb. He never before had any erotic feelings come over him by touching another man's arm. But this was Ricky's arm, and that made all the difference.

After Bobby moved to the apartment, Ricky continued to give him sponge baths. With each bath, he became more aroused by the feel of Bobby's skin on his hands and the stiffening reaction of the boy's penis to his touch. One night after the bath, when Ricky leaned over to give him his usual kiss on the cheek, Bobby reached up and took Ricky's head between his hands and kissed him on the lips.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You've been so good to me, I just couldn't help it."

With hardly a thought, Ricky kissed him back, and their tongues slipped between each other's lips for a very short moment before they pulled out.

"You've been good for me, too, Bobby." Ricky ran his hand gently over the boy's cheek. "Tomorrow's a big day. We'll be going in for the first fitting of your new leg."

Without hesitation, they kissed again, longer and deeper.

When Bobby looked tired and ready for sleep, Ricky asked him if he'd like to have his back rubbed before he went to sleep. He wanted any excuse to run his hands once again over the boy's soft and smooth teenage skin.

"Yes." Bobby quickly rolled over on his stomach.

Ricky started at the neck and slowly and firmly brought his hands down over the muscles of Bobby's broad back and narrow waist. Then he carefully caressed the boy's firm, round ass cheeks. As he felt his own penis expand and throb, Bobby began to moan with the pleasure of it.

"This is like an Army backrub," Ricky said. "My older brother told me that the Army nurses always included the buttocks in their backrubs."

"It tickles," Bobby said. "Do it some more."

Ricky leaned over and ran his tongue over those two sensuous orbs, knowing that Bobby would think it was his fingers.

Over the next two weeks, the fittings for Bobby's new prosthesis went well. He wanted Ricky to be by his side as he tested it out. The time went fast, and Ricky was due to return to work. Bobby insisted he would be fine alone.

One afternoon, Carla went into Bobby's room while he was reading.

"Well, you've certainly made yourself at home," Carla said without a smile. "How long do you plan on being here?"

"I don't know." The question startled Bobby. He'd actually given little thought to it. He rather assumed without thinking that he'd be staying with Ricky for the rest of his life. What else could he do? He'd be alone. To ever be parted from Ricky was almost unthinkable.

Carla leaned against the door jam. "You know, don't you, that I'm his girlfriend. I'm not just his maid. But I haven't seen much of him. This was supposed to be his vacation. What the hell do you do when he's in here with you all the time with the door closed?"

"He helps me a lot. And . . . and we talk."

"You talk. He never talks to me, much less showing any interest anymore in giving me a good fuck once in a while. Most of the time, he's in here `til after midnight."

"I'm sorry."

Carla ambled in and stood over Bobby. She looked at him with her lips curled into a sneer. "Does he sleep with you?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

"If I were you, I'd make plans to get out of here. I can't take much more of this." Carla walked out and slammed the door.

Bobby could feel his whole body shaking. If he were able, he'd get out at that very moment. He was grateful for Ricky, but was unaware that he'd been such a burden.

When Ricky returned home, he went directly to Bobby's room. "Hey, my boy. Did you miss me?"

"Yes." Bobby, still in his wheelchair, stared at the floor and put his hands over his face.

"What's the matter? Don't you feel well?"

"Bobby looked up. "I think I'd better find someplace else to live. I don't think this is working out."

"What are you talking about?" Ricky knelt on the floor before him and took the boy's hands in his.

"I didn't realize I was so much trouble. Your girlfriend came in and told me I should get out."

"What?"

"She told me she doesn't like you spending so much time with me."

"I'll be right back, Bobby."

Ricky stormed out of the room and found Carla lighting a cigarette and watching "Rappers World" on TV. He pulled the plug and stood before her.

"Now you've done it. I knew it would come to this. No one is leaving my apartment but you, Carla. Gather up your stuff and get out."

"You can't just . . . ."

"I can do anything I please. I'll give you thirty minutes to pack up your clothes and be out that door."

Carla stood up with her hands on her hips. She put a coy look on her face and, with a silent chuckle, said, "What are you so worked up about?"

"Don't play innocent with me. You've now got twenty-nine minutes."

"Listen, lover boy. You don't know what it's been like for me since that cripple came into our house."

"My house. Now get out. The clock is ticking."

"I never thought the time would come with you when I had to resort to diddling my own cunt to get off. Don't you ever think about my feelings? You've gotten tired of me. That's it, isn't it? You've found someone else's cimt to fuck, haven't you? Or are you fucking someone's asshole now?"

"Twenty-eight minutes."

"All right. I have one thing to say to you. Since you've abandoned me in my bed, don't for a moment think I don't know you've been sleeping with that cripple. You're a fag. You're a fairy. I should have known better."

"Get out."

As Carla hurried to her bedroom, Ricky rushed back to Bobby's room. "She'll be gone in a few minutes. And good riddance."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said. "I didn't mean for this to happen. It's my fault."

"No, it was my fault for leaving you alone with that bitch."

"Ricky, I could hear you talking. Why did she accuse you of sleeping with me. It's not true. Why didn't you tell her it wasn't true?"

"I don't know."

Ricky sat on the bed and reached over for Bobby's hand. Of course it wasn't true, he thought. But he had to admit to himself it was something he had been wanting to do lately. He'd begun to crave having the boy's naked body pressed against his and wrapped in his arms. Oh, God, how he wanted it. How could it be that he'd lusted so after Carla and reveled in the sex they'd had, but now hated her and wanted only Bobby? How could such a change come over a man? He looked into Bobby's sweet frightened face and knew why the change in his desires happened.

"No, I don't know why I didn't deny it. But it would have been like denying what I feel and long for." He suddenly regretted revealing that thought.

But Bobby understood and smiled. Very quietly, he whispered, "I love you, Ricky. I feel kind of funny, though."

"Funny?"

"Not funny." Bobby shook his head and tightened his hand on Ricky's. "I mean I'm a little excited. It's just you and me now, Ricky. No more nurses and doctors coming in the room. No more . . ."

They heard the front slam.

"And no more Carla."

"Yeah, no more Carla. Just you and me."

That night, at bath time, Ricky ran the sponge over Bobby's body. Somehow, his desire for Bobby had all become too much for him to bear, and his eyes became brimmed with tears. He had to stop and wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

"Don't cry, Ricky. What's the matter?"

"Don't you know what's the matter, Bobby? When you told me you loved me a few minutes ago, everything started to come loose inside of me. And it all came out in these damned tears. I love you, too, my dear Bobby. More than I've ever loved anyone in my life. I wanted to tell you that I'd fallen deeply in love with you, but I was afraid you wouldn't understand."

With tears also forming in Bobby's eyes, he reached out his hand. "Lie down here with me, Ricky. Please."

Ricky looked at Bobby's beautiful naked body and tore off his clothes. He let them drop to the floor. He lay close to the boy and wrapped his arms around him. They smiled at each other, their teary eyes glistening in the waning twilight from the window. They kissed deeply with no hesitation and no shame.

They heard the front slam and knew they were at last alone with each other.

Ricky ran his hand down over Bobby's stomach and through his large bush of dark pubic hair. "You're hard, Bobby," he whispered.

"And you are, too," Bobby said as he reached between Ricky's legs.

Ricky wrapped his hand around Bobby's stiff penis and began to stroke it.

They didn't speak for a long time as they ran their hands over each other's penis and balls.

Finally, Ricky broke the silence. "It must have been a long time since you've jerked off and had a good orgasm. Probably way before the accident."

"Not really. I jerked off in the hospital a lot of times while you were sleeping in your chair."

"I wish I'd known. Were you thinking about Lisa?"

"Of course not. I did it while I watched you sleeping, wishing that you were lying with me. God, how I wanted you lying in bed with me."

"You thought about me?"

"Who else?" Bobby ran his fingers lightly over Ricky's eyes, his tanned cheeks, and then over his full lips. "You were, and still are, a dream come true, Ricky. I knew I loved you after the first time I woke and you spent the night taking care of me. No one has ever been so kind and loving to me as you've been. I tried to convince myself over and over that you could never love me. A one-legged cripple. I can't tell you how many tears I shed when I found out you had a girlfriend. There were times I didn't think about my leg or Lisa or anything. Just you. I was so afraid you'd leave my room and I'd never see you again."

Ricky nestled his head in the crook of Bobby's neck. "That never would have happened. I was afraid, too, that when you recovered, you'd suddenly be out of my life forever."

Bobby and Ricky fell silent and caressed each other's body with their hands and lips and tongues for many minutes.

Ricky soon spoke. "I've never been with a man before. Not like this. I've bathed a lot of male patients, but I never had any interest in being close to them like I am with you right now. I was always anxious to get home and fly into the sack with Carla. But now I don't know why. I don't know why I thought I loved her. You know, Bobby, I know now that I've never really loved anyone until you came into my life."

"I feel the same way," Bobby whispered. "It's true. I don't know what it was that made me want to be with Lisa. But I know now that it wasn't love. Not like what I feel right at this moment. I was pretty popular in school, and she let everyone know that she was the one who had me for herself. It wasn't really me. It was the fact that I was a star baseball player, and I was hers. So when I lost my leg, I guess I was no more use to her. No one would be jealous of a girl who went out with a one-legged man. Even though the sex was terrific with her, I'm glad, Ricky, she's out of my life now."

Ricky rolled his body closer to Bobby. "I agree, the sex was good with Carla. She gave me blow jobs like no one before her had ever given me. I wondered sometimes what she got out of it . . . other than a load of cum in her mouth. She said she loved the taste of it."

"Lisa loved to suck on my penis, too. She gave me even better orgasms than when I jerked off."

Ricky rose up on his elbows and looked down at Bobby. "Have you ever tasted your own cum?"

"Oh, sure. Lots of times. It doesn't taste bad. How about you?"

"I've tasted it a few times, and I like it. I can see why the girls liked it."

Bobby reached down and took hold of Ricky's turgid penis and looked at it. "Ricky? Do you think we could try it? I mean try what they did to us?"

"You're talking about sucking each other's penis? Why not? I want to do it so I can see what your cum tastes like. I have this strange feeling that I need to taste what comes from your body. But first, tell me. Have you ever had a man's penis in your mouth?"

"No, but I really want to taste yours."

Ricky and Bobby quickly rolled into a 69 position and very slowly wrapped their lips over each other's penis head as they cupped each other's balls. Almost in a flash they had the full length of each other's hard cocks deep into their mouths. They had seen and felt their girlfriends do it, and they knew well the technique of using the tongue and lips to bring each other to orgasm.

As they sucked hard and deep, they ran their hands lightly over the soft hair on each other's legs, adding to the great eroticism they were feeling. It was so much better, Ricky thought, than the awful razor stubble that covered Carla's legs.

When Bobby began to groan, it caused Rickey to come to orgasm. At virtually the same time, their gorged penises began to throb violently and slap the roofs of their mouths as their warm, thick cum poured into each other. They each held the other's smooth cream in his mouth and let it run slowly down their throats.

When they pulled off, they ran their tongues over and around their still rigid penises, reveling in the first time they could taste and feel the contours and ridges of each other's penis.

Soon, they turned around, face to face, and kissed each other madly. They talked about the experience and realized how easily they might never have known such pleasure and love if it hadn't been for their meeting in the hospital.

Exhausted, they soon fell asleep in each other's arms. At about four a.m., Ricky woke up. The street light outside the window cast an almost heavenly glow on Bobby's sleeping face. That same sweet sleeping face Ricky had wanted to kiss so many times in the hospital. He leaned over and kissed the boy gently on the lips and eyes. Then he looked over the full length of Bobby's beautiful young body. He scooted down and kissed the thigh of the leg that had been partially amputated. He ran his tongue over the soft fleshy part of his upper inner thigh, and then over the healed end of the stump. There was not an inch on Bobby's body that he did not love passionately.

Ricky was off to work at 6:00 a.m., and left a loving note for the sleeping boy that he would be home by five that afternoon. But he would call him during the day.

That evening, Bobby revealed that Mr. Packard had been by to talk about his and his mother's house. After the accident, he had the house sealed completely. But it was now time to go through the home and dispose of those contents that Bobby didn't want to keep.

Bobby sat on the sofa, cuddled in Ricky's arms. "I want you to come with me and Mr. Packard when we go through the house next week."

"I'll be right with you every minute, Bobby. I know it's going to be very hard for you when you see it again . . . now that . . . you know . . . your mother won't be there."

"There are a few of my mother's things I want to keep and a few of my own. Not much. I don't want to clutter up your apartment."

"It's our apartment, Bobby."

Bobby looked up into Ricky's face. "I don't want to be anywhere else. If you move, I want to go with you." He lowered his head as tears began running down his cheeks. "I'm so afraid you might leave me behind, and I won't know what to do. I want to be with you forever."

"Forever it is, my dear sweet boy. We'll never be apart. Have you thought of starting college in another year right here in San Antonio, rather than going to Austin? But if you do go to Austin, I'll move there with you and we'll live together. We'll never, ever be apart."

They ate supper very quickly and were eager to get to bed early. They lay once again with their naked bodies wrapped in each other's arms.

"You know something?" Ricky said. "Carla liked to get fucked in the ass. She once told me it was too bad I didn't know how good it felt to have a cock up my ass. How about you and Lisa?"

"Lisa wanted me to do it once because her friend and her boyfriend did it all the time and loved it. So I did it, and it really felt good because her asshole was so much tighter than her pussy."

"It felt good for me, too, to have a really tight hole to fuck. But she kept saying how good it felt to get fucked in the ass. I wonder if that's really true."

"Yeah, I wonder."

Ricky reached around and ran his finger over Bobby's asshole. "Well, I guess there's only one way to find out."

"Sure is. There's only one way to find out."

Author's Note: I welcome comments, good or bad, from readers about this story. If the response is positive, I will continue the story of Ricky and Bobby. If not, it will remain a one-installment piece. I happily respond to all e-mails.

Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com