Blake continued speaking. “Hoyt tells me that you’ve been waiting for the right guy to start dating again. I’m a nice guy; Would you like to go out?”
He’s got a parole office, I thought. Tell him you’re just not ready. He’s going to suggest dinner on a boat and then try to drown you. Shit, he’s probably a serial killer. Maybe he just got out of an asylum.
“I’d love to go out with you,” I heard myself say.
I’d made plans with Blake to have an evening picnic by the lake the next day. Eric enjoyed his lunch with Mike, but he had a feeling that Mike would be just a friend. In his words, “Mike is gay, but he’s gay in a different way from me. He can’t wait to go to college and let everyone know by shouting it to the world.”
As for Edward, he said only one of the girls seemed to show any interest in him, and one of the other guys warned him that she was a slut who gave half the football team chlamydia. Rumors were that she had had two abortions. When I asked how old she was, he told me that she was a junior but should have graduated the year before. We both agreed she was someone to avoid.
Breakfast the next morning was pancakes and eggs. The pancakes were perfect. Aaron wanted to make the eggs over easy, and when they broke apart, he was visibly upset. When Sarah suggested he make omelets the next time, he left the room. I followed him. “Take over for him, Edward.”
He was sitting in the chair looking out at the lake. He’d sat there yesterday afternoon as well, for at least two hours.
“I think it’s time for a talk, buddy.”
Aaron looked up at me. His eyes were wet. If there was one thing we didn’t have a shortage of in this family, it was tears. “Want to sit with me on the couch or go outside and take a walk?”
“Outside. I don’t want anyone to hear,” he mumbled. He was fighting the tears.
I held the door open, and we walked out into the cool breeze. “This makes me wish I could carry you around on my shoulders or maybe in my arms. But you’re growing up, right. The hormones, the changes, the feelings.” I put my arm around his shoulder. “This isn’t about eggs, is it?”
“No.” He wrapped his arms around me and put his head on my chest. “Sometimes I wish I were still little, and then sometimes I wish I were already grown-up.”
He was getting ready to tell me something big. I could sense it.
“Yesterday,” Aaron’s voice was barely about a whisper. He let go of me and looked at the ground. “Something happened when I went to use the restroom.”
My body stiffened. If someone touched him…
“My new friend Stuart went with me. We looked at each other’s privates. I know I shouldn’t have, but I touched his, and he touched mine, and he kissed me, and I liked it and I kissed him back.” Aaron looked up at me. Huge tears filled his eyes before spilling down his cheek.
I relaxed; I’d worried that he’d been molested.
“Aaron, it’s OK. What happened is normal. You didn’t do anything wrong. Lots of boys do the same thing, even the ones who aren’t gay. Are you worried about that?”
“But I think about boys all the time. When I dream about getting married, it’s always to another boy. And in PE class, I always want to look at the guys in the shower.”
“That’s what I did when I was your age. There’s no reason to feel guilty, OK?” I hugged him again. Half the boys in the family were gay. My parents had two boys, and one of us was gay. Genetics?
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway caught my attention. I saw the head of the boy that was playing in the water with the kids. Driving the truck was someone who looked pissed off. Was parenting ever going to get easy?
I took a step forward and waited for the man to exit the truck. “What’s your friend’s name, Aaron?”
“Stuart.”
The man got out of the truck; his face was covered in anger. Maybe that’s just the way he looked.
“Hi,” I said. “Jordan Evans.” I put my hand out. “You must be Stuart’s dad.”
He glared at me. “Your fucking kid’s a pervert. He touched my kid.”
I glanced at the kid in the truck. He looked terrified.
“I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding here. I understand that it was more of a case of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’ “
“I don’t think so,” the man spat angrily. “You’re kid’s a fucking fag, and he’s trying to turn my kid.”
“My kid,” I said in a louder voice, “is not trying to turn your kid.” What ignorance. I was tempted to tell him that his kid had kissed my kid, but I thought about what was best for Aaron, and even what was best for Stuart. “How about I just ask my kid not to talk to or be around Stuart?”
“Ask him?” he shouted. “How about fucking telling him!”
“Maybe it’s because my children respect me so I don’t have to run a dictatorship.”
The man came at me. “You fucking piece of shit.”
I didn’t see the fist, and I was on the ground before I even realized what was happening. The children swarmed around me. I hadn’t heard them come out onto the porch. I did hear Eric.
“You touch my dad, and I’ll fucking beat you to a pulp. I can tell by the look in your kid’s eyes that you treat him like shit. You’re not going to do that to us.”
The next thing that I heard were the sirens. The children helped me up.
“Stand back, Simpson.” The sheriff walked over to stand between us. “Your wife told me you were on your way over here to kill someone. I’m sure she was just excited and didn’t know what she was saying. Were you planning to kill this man?”
“His kid is trying to turn my kid into a fag,” said the man named Simpson.
“People can’t turn other people gay. If you’re kid’s gay, it’s your DNA that did it. Get back in your truck and go home.”
The man turned back to his truck, got in, and spun his tires to tear a hole in my yard.
The sheriff turned to me. “Were you going to press charges, Evans? I should have asked you before I let him go.”
“I’m thinking about it, but I think Stuart’s fate is more important,” I said.
“Stuart?”
“The asshole didn’t even realize that Stuart had slipped out of the truck. Kids, go back inside. Aaron, go around to the back of the house and see if Stuart is there. Ask him to come out to the sheriff.”
Aaron ran off to search as the others went back inside. “Sheriff, I’m making an official report of suspected child abuse. Stuart’s father, at the very least, is verbally abusive.”
“Fuck, Evans. Half this county verbally abuses their kids.”
“And gay kids who are verbally abused and harassed by family members have a higher incidence of suicide. Are you willing to risk it? I’m not. I can keep Stuart here until the state comes and rescues him, but I’ll have to shoot to kill any trespassers bent on taking him.”
“Evans, you don’t want to go to jail over this.”
“No, I don’t. But his life is too important. I’m sure Harley Grant would tell you the same thing,” I said. “And I’m surprised you’re not more willing to protect your kind.”
“What’s Harley have to do with this?” The sheriff’s eyes seemed a little more open than they had just a few minutes prior.
I saw Aaron bringing Stuart from the back. “Sheriff, now. I’m friends with his nephew.”
“And?” The sheriff wanted to continue his denial.
“I think gay men should stick together, and we should protect gay youth from bullies,” I told him as Stuart came up to me.
The sheriff realized the full extent of what I was saying. “You wouldn’t tell,” he said.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Stuart.
“You did nothing wrong. Nothing today, and nothing yesterday when you were with Aaron. Remember that.” I looked up at the sheriff. “I’d tell in a heartbeat if it would help him, but I know you’ll do the right thing.”
The sheriff drove off with Stuart. We found out later that he was in the care of Child Protective Services. All seven of us prayed for him before we ate our breakfast.
Later that afternoon, a brief thunderstorm popped up. The kids knew that I had a friend coming over and that I was going to have a dinner picnic with him. They took turns waiting for his car to pull up. Zachary and Margie were worried that he’d cancel when the rain began.
“Are you worried that I won’t leave the house so you can run amuck?” I smiled.
“You’re going to ruin our plans if you stay,” said Margie.
“So you’re trying to get rid of me,” I stated flatly.
“Of course we are.” Margie shook her head. “And you’re not helping.”
“Sorry,” I shrugged my shoulders. I heard a noise that seemed to be coming from the basement. “What’s going on down there?” I walked to the head of the stairs that led down to the basement. “What are y’all doing down there.”
“Just rearranging a few things,” Edward called up.
“And we don’t need your help.” It was Eric.
I took a deep breath. Did I drive my parents crazy when I was a teenager? No. Decidedly not. I was a perfect son.
“There he is,” announced Zachary.
“He’s walking!” Margie sounded astonished.
“Well, it’s more like running,” said Zachary. “Seems kind of dumb not to be in a car.”
“I bet it wasn’t raining when he started,” I suggested.
Eric bumped into me on his way to look out the window. “He’s almost to the porch. “Shit, Dad. He’s a hunk.”
“A quarter in the swear jar,” I announced.
“But we ain’t got a swear jar,” said Edward as he came around the corner from stairs.
“Make one. You two will make me rich.”
Margie giggled.
A knock at the door announced Blake’s official arrival. I opened the door to find him dripping wet. It seemed like a persistent theme with me and my dates. I smiled, and he smiled back. “Sudden afternoon storms are common here. Let that be a lesson. Eric, run to my bedroom and get a robe. Come on in.”
“But I’m dripping wet.”
“You want to finish dripping on the porch before you come in?” I asked.
“I don’t want to ruin the floor.”
“I’ve got a rug right here in front of the door for times like these.” I continued smiling.
Blake stepped inside. Edward handed a towel to me and one to Blake and took the basket he held in his hand.
“Zach, Margie, go into my room for a few minutes.” They passed Eric on their way.
“Here’s the robe.”
“Take your shirt off, Blake.” I held my hand out.
“What?” Blake smiled with his eyebrows raised. “No kiss first?”
Eric laughed. “He wants to check out the merchandise before he buys it.”
“Eric!”
Blake laughed. “Well then.” He pulled off his t-shirt, too.
“Fuck!” exclaimed Eric. He turned to me. “He’s hot.”
“That’s two more quarters in the jar. Now, go to your room.”
“But I only said fuck once this time,” Eric protested.
“Yeah, but you said it twice as loud.”
Blake slipped into the robe, and removed his short pants as well as slipping out of his shoes. “Even my fucking socks are wet. Oh, shit, I. Well, fuck.” He pulled a dollar from his pants pocket. “Here, for your jar.”
“We don’t give change,” chuckled Edward.
“Don’t worry,” said Eric, “I’m sure you’ll owe more once y’all start kissing.” He giggled like a little kid.
“That’s enough fooling around,” I demanded. “I told you to go to your rooms.”
“We’re going,” said Eric. “But I want you to know that we fixed up a place in the basement for you. You’re not going to be able to have your picnic outside even if it does stop raining.”
I looked over at Blake. “Let’s go have our picnic then.”
Blake grabbed his basket, and we headed down to the basement.
“Tell the kids they can come out.” I closed the door to the basement behind us.
Blake and I had a pleasant meal as we sat on an old mattress covered by an old quilt. The kids had put it in the middle of the surprisingly clean basement. A couple of glasses, some paper plates, napkins, and a bottle of lube sat on a stepstool next to the mattress. Blake brought wine, and I had two glasses.
“When Hoyt told me how nice you were and told me about your kids, I knew I wanted to get to know you better,” Blake told me.
“And when Hoyt told me how nice you were, I thought maybe. When I saw how handsome you are, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would cheat on you.”
Blake looked down at his hands, and then at me. “He was one of those guys who just couldn’t stop fucking around. Ha, I guess I used up my last quarter on that dollar I gave the boys.”
“I won’t tell.” I moved closer to him. “I like you, Blake.” I reached for his hand. He held my fingers with his. He moved his other hand up my arm. The robe fell from his shoulder, and I could see his hairy chest, his manly, hairy chest. I felt a bolt of excitement shoot through me. I hadn’t felt anything like it in such a long time. Could I really have a connection with someone who just happened to be visiting in the same town I’d come to for a vacation?
Blake moved his head forward and against mine. “I hadn’t planned to do anything more than hold your hand on this date of ours, to see if there might be a romantic connection between us,” he whispered as if someone might overhear us. “But now that I’ve held your hand, I want more.”
“Me, too,” I said quietly. We moved our heads and kissed. The kiss was soft, gentle, and filled with sexual electricity. I continued to grip his hand in mine, but the other hand round its way to his chest. I moved my fingers over the light fur of his body, and when I reached his nipple, my thumb caressed it. In response, Blake pushed his tongue into my mouth. I hadn’t expected to respond so quickly to him. The pressure inside my briefs increased, and I began to feel lightheaded and euphoric. I pushed my tongue into his mouth.
Blake moaned softly. “Will you fuck me, Jordan?”
“I want to. I’m not sure we should.”
“I’m clean. No diseases and I planned to use a dildo on myself later, so I took care of things when I was in the shower.” Blake looked at me with his beautiful eyes; I could see that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I pulled off my shirt and pushed my pants down and off. I was completely naked. He slipped out of his underwear and pulled his arms out of the robe. I hadn’t desired anyone like that since Matt. I pushed him back and lay on top of him. Our hard cocks ground together as we kissed. I moved down and began sucking him; his dick fit perfectly in my mouth, and the sensation of the head popping in and out of my throat made my dick throb even harder.
Pushing his legs up and back, I brought his hole up to my lips. I ran my tongue back and forth across his sphincter. I could feel precum on the tip of my cock. Blake had reached up and squeezed my dick with his hand. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pushed the tip of my tongue into his hole.
“Oh, fuck Jordan. That’s so intense.”
That was a green light; my tongue became more active. I reached over for the lube and fumbled to put some in my hand before gripping his dick again and sliding up and down it. Blake had clenched his jaw and made quiet moans. I released his dick and began to slowly finger fuck him. With my free hand, I added more lube to his hole and applied a generous amount to my throbbing rod.
“Hold your knees,” I whispered. I pushed my cock into him. His gasp was audible. I covered his mouth with mine and began to move in and out. I was gentle and he was accommodating. We fucked in synchrony; our tongues exploring our new partner. It felt right. It felt intense. It felt caring. We were connected; we had been searching for the same thing to fill our need to share with another human who understood, and our search felt fulfilled. Was it at an end?
Blake gripped me tightly; I could tell his abs were contracting. Excitement was growing inside me. I pushed into him with more force, and he came. And I came. Our bodies became limp, but he held me in place on him.
“No one has ever made love to me like that,” said Blake.
“Will you stay the night?” I couldn’t believe that I said it, but it’s what I wanted.
Blake nuzzled his head against me, and as we lay there listening to the breathing of the other, I wondered when he would have to leave. I became aware that, even with six kids, I’d been alone for a lot of years. With Blake next to me, I didn’t feel alone anymore. How long would that last?
