The Light, Book 2

by Joe Writer Man

Chapter 27

"Adam, wake up, breakfast is ready... hurry up... they'll eat it all." A young voice softly, yet insistently, whispered into my ear, and then I felt a small pair of lips touch my cheek and ear like little rose petals... it tickled, so I reached up my hand to push it away...

I was so comfortable...

Lying in my own bed... on my tummy...

The top of my head buried under pillows...

Feeling a draft across my back and points south...

Feeling no covers...

Realizing I was buck naked...

On full display... to anyone with a half-decent set of eyes...

Prong. Definitely distended. Sandwiched between me and the bed...

Urge to pee...

Overwhelming – almost, but not quite...

I popped one eyelid open...

Closed my eyes again, reached up my arm and rested it on the pillow, hoping the intrusion would 'go away'...

Ah, but, the intruder became even more insistent, whining, "Wake up Amigo... I'm hungry."

At the same time, a hand, his hand, none other than Jesus' fingers began a trail down my spine beginning at the base of my neck, until he touched my tail bone where he lingered for just a moment, before smartly smacking my bare upturned cheek to further get my attention. Meanwhile, goose bumps traveled up, or down, my spine... I don't know which way those little fleshy creatures travel… I wasn't aware of any hairs in or around my donut hole… but he found one and yanked it hard – surely pulling it from its moorings. Actually, it tickled rather than hurt… I reached around and tried to knock away that intrusive feller, but all I smacked was air.

He found that quite funny.

I didn't.

The flurry of activity was waking me up more than I cared for, yet, at the same time, I giggled into the pillow, trying to muffle it the best I could.

"WAKE UP!" He said. The next thing he did was to kiss my right upturned cheek... then it was quiet – until the tinkle tinkle of water hitting the water in the toilet bowl was heard… that gave me the opportunity to bury my head deeper beneath the pillows… and I pulled the sheet up and over my naked legs, hips and back… forget the rest… I had to hurry, the toilet flushed and the water spigot turned on, meaning he was about finished with his morning rituals.

No more than 3 seconds later, I felt an arm touch my shoulder, breath on the back of my neck. A little heartening voice said, "Wake up... I'm hungry... come with me, Adam."

The guys did that same thing back at the group home. My solution then was to scare the fuck out of them by screaming in their face... along the lines of "I'm awake" or "get the fuck away". Sometimes, those words meant war, sometimes not. Most of the time they left me alone... at least until they found out what I'd done the night before to keep the adults out of my pants... and then it was torture... their words and actions had hurt... but they just didn't understand...

Anyway, I didn't want to hurt Jesus... I just wanted him to 'go away'... just as I felt his lips on my cheek, once again, I raised up, turned toward him, and then growled, "Leave me alone. Go away!" And then I plopped my head back down and buried it between the 2 pillows.

I heard a sharp intake of breath. His arm left my back.. then there was nothing … until the door to my bedroom slammed shut.

Startled, I rolled over, looked toward the door... I didn't know what I was expecting to see... but the feeling that I'd really fucked up overshadowed the playful mood I'd kinda sorta been in...

I didn't mean... to be mean.

Concerned, I worked my way out of bed, scooted into the bathroom, hoisted myself up and onto the throne, did my business, took a quick shower, rubbed off a quick one with soap and water, snagged a pair of white gym shorts, and then pulled them up and over the necessities of life.

After doing my hair, I exited my room via the hallway that led into the main part of the house. David and Peter were walking toward my room. David had a perplexed look on his face. Peter's expression had a tinge of irritation on it. David said, "Morning Adam. Do you know what's wrong with Jesus? He took out of here like a bat out of hell..."

"Uhm, I kind of know what's going on... yeah, I scared him... he was trying to wake me up... and well, I went overboard... do you know where he went?"

"Did he sleep with you?" David asked, curiously.

"Yeah. He was scared last night."

"Do you know what he was afraid of?" David asked, genuinely concerned. His concern rubbed off on me...

"He was afraid of having a nightmare. He said he has them sometimes." I replied, not really wanting to go into the whole thing of Jesus and me getting intimate and everything... I hadn't yet figured that one out, myself.

"Did he have one?"

"No, not that I'm aware of. He didn't wake me up during the night. I told him he could... sometimes I have them, too."

David nodded, as did Peter. Peter put his arm around David's waist. Peter said, "We were just wondering about him because his bed was unmade... anyway, we're glad you were there for him."

With that, they took off down the hall toward the staircase leading down into the living area.

I thought to myself just how I was not there for Jesus... what if he'd been scared? What if he just needed me? What if he wanted to...

Seriously, I was just playing with him... but... I did want to sleep some more... I fucked up... I knew I would... I always did...

Peter returned, and said, "He's not downstairs... maybe he just went for a walk. Antoine went with Dad into town. They won't be back until later... they had several appointments …

Even though I knew it was a rhetorical question, I asked anyway, "Should we go looking for him?"

"No, not right now. He may have just went home. Or, maybe he went to the beach. He likes to be alone sometimes... If we don't hear from him then we'll go check his house and the beach."

Peter added, "He's probably working out. He and Antoine usually do their exercises before breakfast. Since Antoine's gone... he's probably just doing them alone. I wouldn't worry about it. Come on, let's go eat before it's all gone."

By 10am, I was wondering where he might have been. AZ was nervous, too. He took off to look for his brother. Maria left shortly afterward. Jeremy and Jason took her home. They said they were going to spend some time alone, that they would probably go to the main beach afterward.

Allen and Angel excused themselves from the dinner table, made their way outside, and then disappeared from sight after saying they were going to hang out at the beach in the tourist area.

Peggy and Grandma urged me to join them out on the patio. No reason, really. I had nothing better to do, and kind of wanted to hang with them, anyway.

We talked about this, that and a lot of things, none too serious, just every day, normal conversation.

The conversation turned tides when Grandma observed, "I'm glad Jesus has someone to call a friend, Adam. He and Antoine are close, very close, but they have more of a mentor/mentored relationship."

Peggy agreed, "He's really getting close to you, Adam. He watches your every move. And when you sleep in late, he's chomping at the bit to wake you up."

I looked to the pavement. I wanted to slink into the crack where the two slabs of concrete met. All I said was, "Yeah... uhm, may I be excused, please, ma'am, Grandma?"

"Honey, don't be afraid. The boy is very lonely... he needs a friend... and so do you." Peggy said, softly.

"Yes ma'am. I'll try. May I be excused, please?"

Grandma nodded. Peggy took my hand, squeezed it twice, and then released it. I leaned down, kissed both their cheeks, and then took off into the house, went to my bedroom, used the restroom, put on a sock and shoe, grabbed my crutches, and then left my room via the French doors, walked my way down the stairs.

Something didn't feel right... I couldn't put my finger on it... maybe it was a foreboding coursing through my veins.

David and Peter were lounging at the side of the pool, hanging their legs over, holding hands with their arms intertwined... they both looked up as I walked by. David asked, "Are you ready to go check on Jesus?"

"Yeah, I'm going... I know where he lives. Look, I sorta fucked things up... I'd like to go alone, if it's okay with you?"

They exchanged glances, and then David turned toward me and said, "He adores the ground you walk on, Adam. Don't let him down... and don't let yourself down. We were just talking... let yourself go, Adam... just let it happen, whatever it is."

I nodded.

Peter said, "Let us know if you need something... we're planning to be here."

"Okay, thanks." I said weakly, feeling vulnerable... for some reason.

Without delay, I descended the stairs to the beach and took off south.

After falling 4 times in the soft sand, I slowed down, but kept on moving, going as fast as I dared.

When I arrived at the Mission church, I found a bench under an arbor to sit down on. I made my way there, sat to rest and look out over the ocean. I found the perfectly clear view and the sounds of the ocean to be very calming. I didn't know why I was so nervous and shit. Maybe it was when Peggy and Grandma said I needed a friend... they were all friends to me... I'd never had real friends before... and their family seemed the closest I'd ever thought of a friend to be. Or maybe I was just worried about Jesus. I got to thinking about what he and I had done the night before... I didn't know what to think about that... on one hand, our experience seemed to be the most natural thing that had ever happened... I mean, one moment we were goofing around, playing around, and in the very next minute we were grinding lips and hips purposefully... yet, it wasn't purposeful... because we, or at least I had no destination in mind. We didn't "do" anything to make it happen... it just did... and I had the most intense experience in all my life... normally, when I masturbate myself, I did not go unconscious, or whatever it's called... but I did go totally unconscious.

Besides that – I wasn't gay.

I couldn't be.

I'd jerked off to girls' tits and pussies... even though I'd never before seen a pussy, or, for that matter, tits. I'd often wondered what it would feel like to have my dick inside... I'd heard stories from the older boys at the group home say that it was all slick, and that the pussy would grab hold of your cock and not let go until the girl threw you off because her slit and clit got too sensitive... one of the boys, Damien, said that he'd continue to fuck... he liked the girls to fight him off... he'd keep on going until they were begging for yet another release... and so it went. I didn't believe him, really. I mean after I jacked off and experienced orgasm... I was done because my dickhead got way too sensitive to continue being rubbed. Was a girl any different?

Then a vision crowded in... what Jesus had told me of his older brother fucking him... and his little brother being... being... being... and how he and AZ had usually pleased their elder… sent my mind to that place where I remembered Jesus sitting in a chair, unaware that all his goods, including his hole, were in plain sight... I wondered how in the hell he ever accommodated something as big as what I'd been told about his brother... Pablo... there, that's his name, I had forgotten.

A violent chill traveled up and down my spine, goose-bumps sprouted from the pores on my arms, and then as quick as a passing thought, I felt my butthole tightly clench tightly shut, and the sense of foreboding became intense.

Jesus had spoken, many times about the priest who lived in the Mission... maybe he was talking to the man... I got off the bench, walked around to the driveway side of the house... there was no car in the area.

Curiously, I walked to the church, opened the door and peered inside. The place, for being a church, was pretty kewl... it was an older building, built with stone. From history lessons I figured it had been built at around the turn of the twentieth century, maybe a little later, somewhere in that era.

There was nobody around, so I stole inside, walked down the aisle toward a candle stand with many lit up... I wondered why they were burning candles when nobody was around... I thought that was dangerous so I blew them all out.

I wondered why churches had so many expensive things in them... I mean, who or what were they protecting? This God they talked about was everywhere... so why did they have it locked up in a cabinet... I laughed out loud. The sound of my laugh reverberated throughout the building, even though I didn't laugh 'all' that hard. A chill ran up and down my spine, and then it spread into my hands.

At the same time, I realized the crutches were putting a lot of pressure in my armpits. I walked up the two steps to get to some chairs sitting in the middle of the rotunda like thing where a stone altar sat. It wasn't shiny marble like I'd seen in other churches... instead, it was rustic appearing. I'd seen altars like it in old history books... like way back in the 1850's. It seemed out of place... what I mean is that it did not appear to be any part of Hawaiian culture... but I'd not done too much reading about the culture... I hadn't had or made the time to do so. I consigned the task to read to memory.

Feeling rested, I got up, turned around, walked the short distance to a gold plated tabernacle like thing, reached up, opened the little door and found a totally antiquated chalice like thing in the center of the little 'room'... it was absolutely beautiful. Not a single tarnish mark marred its surface. For some reason... my curiosity satisfied, I closed the door, turned away and began walking toward the front doors. On my way, just as I got to the bottom step, I felt a warm breeze blow my hair, brush my face like a painter's brush would do, and then I felt hands rest upon my shoulders. Quickly, I turned around, but nobody was there... no, I wasn't frightened because those hands weren't scary, rather they provided comfort, from what I didn't know. There was no plausible explanation.

Then the breeze was gone, and the hands left my shoulders, yet it was like I was being pushed along as I slowly walked up the aisle toward the front doors. Once there, I looked back toward that altar just to see if what I'd seen and felt was... what? Reality?

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, I took off toward the beach, staying in the shallow sand. I'll always marvel at the power of the mother ocean. She is so fierce, yet she is kind and gentle when you treat her right. You treat her right by keeping trash and whatnot out of her waters, respecting her mightiness and majesty, and simply enjoying what she offers so freely to anyone who simply pays attention.

What next caught my attention, after walking about 500 yards further south down the beach was pairs of underwear and outer shorts, socks, and tennis shoes. They were about 3 feet apart from one another. There were footprints in the sand that headed into the ocean.

I looked all around hoping to find who they belonged to. I saw nobody. I looked at them again... I recalled that they belonged to Jesus... he'd worn them the previous night, and shed them onto the floor as he'd gotten into bed.

The sense of foreboding from within became intense. With a sense of urgency, I tucked the shorts into my underwear, tied together the strings of the shoes, stuffed the socks inside, and then took off to the rocks, thinking maybe was on down shore a ways.

Arriving at the rocks, I sat the shoes down, reached in and pulled out the shorts, and then laid them all together on a rock.

I looked out into the ocean; half expecting to see him out playing... perhaps even with the dolphins. But I saw nobody... and I looked very carefully because this was the end of the line, nobody could go further. The rocks were daunting. There was no way I was going to go up that trail... it was sandy, pebbly, and had had several rock slides.

I turned my attentions back to the ocean. I was sure that was where the answer was. It had to be. It just had to be.

I sat on that same rock with Jesus' clothes, slid down my own shorts and underwear, stacked them on top of Jesus', laid down my crutches, and then scooted down the sand and into the water. It wasn't quite as scary as it had been when we'd been in the ocean before... in fact, I got out into the water, floated out for maybe 150 feet... I could still sit down and have my head above water, so I did. My neck was at the waters' edge. The waves were much, much less than they'd been before, too.

I don't know why, I was still nervous about the conflicts I was having inside about Jesus... I didn't understand where it was coming from, or exactly what was causing it. I was also feeling guilt... he had to have been so upset for him to leave my room like that. I was just messing with him... yet the sound of his intake of breath was clear, and then the slam of my bedroom door.

Okay, the conflict was there, up close and personal. I felt it in my bones... then what was there to do about it... talk with him... share my heart? Where was my heart? What was I feeling? Was I scared? Was what we did – wrong?

Our orgasm didn't feel wrong... quite the opposite was true. And, no, it wasn't pure lust... I'd been lustful before... cured by only one or two masturbation sessions, and then it was over... until the next time. But, our experience was much, much different – pleasing, warming, sensory overload, and a desire to do it again... but I was a guy. I hated them touching me, yet... Jesus was different, oh so different... in a very good way. I closed my eyes to the bright sunshine, took myself back to my bed, felt my lips on his, experienced his hardness against my own tumult state, and then I laid back into the water, and just as my nose went under my body reacted violently as shards of pleasure emanated from the center point of my body... without even touching 'it'. I'd never before experienced anything like that, and experiencing it I was, oh my God... would it ever end? I'd hoped not... but the need for oxygen replenishment became overpowering, so I gathered up all remaining strength and sat back up, gulping in life sustaining air.

Recovered, I still felt uneasiness... like someone was watching me... like they'd watched my private moment... or something... I couldn't tell what the feeling was, or where it was coming from, exactly.

I made my way to shore, scooted up to the rock where the clothes were lying, hoisted myself off, pushed the fabrics aside, sat down, turned around looked up into the mountain. The rocks, themselves, looked daunting. There's no way a human could climb up those bare facing creatures of nature, volcanoes, and earthly uprisings. I then looked out in the ocean, straining my eyes to see who or what might have been out there... I saw nothing. I needed to pee, so I stood back up using the rock as leverage, and took care of business in front of God and anybody else who may have been looking down the beach with binoculars... sheesh, talk about paranoid.

The breeze felt good, really good. I hardened up again. My male gland stuck out straight out like a flag pole fastened securely on the side of a building. After shaking it an extra time or two, I put it back inside where it belonged. I sat back down, leaned back and simply rested and enjoyed the sights and sounds all around me. I can't tell you how long I sat there drinking it all in. Time meant nothing, really. Antoine had taught me how to gauge time, though. When I got my bearings back, I looked up into the sky and could tell it was pretty close to noon. The sun was shining brightly. The breeze was light, and appeared to be from the south, but my guess was skewed by the rocks all around behind me. The wind could have been coming from any direction, actually, but it felt like it was coming from the south.

Feeling a big ole pocket of air well up inside my stomach, I leaned forward and to the side, allowing a butt flapping fart to escape. I don't know why – I giggled. Sheesh, how juvenile can you be? Not to forget – I was glad the breeze was blowing.

The moment of levity was utterly fractured when I heard the sound of a rock falling... Quickly, I looked up, immediately behind me... and saw nothing there, however, something moved above which caught my eye.

My heart stopped.

I took in a deep breath, and held it in.

I didn't move. I couldn't move. Time stopped.

I swallowed hard.

I found the boy. Or did he find me?

Way high up, perched on a lone rock, one that actually looked like a chimney arising from the floor, was Jesus. His legs were dangling over the side... I wondered how in the fuck he could ever possibly get where he was... the closest outcropping of rock that far up had to have been 6 feet away from his legs. He couldn't have dropped down, like Spider Man could have done. Maybe he climbed up there? But how?

I surveyed the situation – where he was to where I was. There was no way I could get up there... not by using crutches.

He had his face in his hands. The wind was blowing significantly up there... his hair was being tousled by mother nature herself. I asked her to take care of him, and then I screamed his name several times, trying to get his attention – all to no avail.

I sat back down, tossed the crutches close by, and then found a possible way that I could get up there, at least close enough so that he could hear me. Knowing that I WAS somehow going up there - I put on both underwear and shorts, dropped to the gravel, and inched my way to the path leading up, up, up.

Handhold by handhold, knee over leg, twist this way, turn that way, I scraped my way a foot at a time up the steep incline until I could go no further without a short rest period. I looked up hoping to see him, however a large rock blocked my view. I looked down to see check my progress – okay, well I was making progress, but not as much as I would liked to have made.

Filled with determination and a sense of urgency... and yes, another wash of foreboding, I took off and made progress an inch at a time, sometimes more, until he came back into view. We were nearly horizontal in a straight line. He didn't look my way, instead his head was held down nearly to the point of almost resting on his chest.

If a bird flew, we were only about 20 feet apart, yet the distance between us might have well been half-way across the world because there was no way to close the separation.

I knew I was on a narrow ledge, and I had an idea that there was nothing to my left... my arm was hanging free. Turning back to him, he had lowered himself to a crouching position on his haunches, contemplating his next move, then stood back up, raised his arms up and out, bent over, looked down, and then he looked in my direction.

Our eyes met. It was then that I saw what appeared to be tears running down his cheeks. Quickly he turned away, took a sprinters' stance, raised up his head, and then...

The position he was in, the intensity in his eyes, the what was it? Determination? Hopelessness? Futility?

I screamed from the depths of my lungs, "Don't! I'm sorry!"

"GO AWAY. LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed back, not even turning toward me.

He then crouched down on his haunches, looked over the ledge, smiled, and then stood back up... the way he was standing, the way he was leaning... I had to turn away... I looked over the edge on my left side... and found myself on a sheer cliff looking down and seeing nothing but rock below... jagged rocks.

Feeling a terror I'd never before experienced, I quickly vomited over the edge into the chasm below. Once the upheaval passed, at least for a few seconds, weak from the effort of doing that and from the slow painful, inch by inch trek up the mountain, I laid my head down into the sandy dust, wept bitterly, sobbed harder than I'd ever sobbed before in my life, ever, thinking only of my one true friend, and how he... how he... no, please no, I screamed into the grit with total despair, rage and terror coming from places I did not know existed.

I chanced one more look toward where he'd been. He was gone.

Then determination took over. If I couldn't have saved him, then I had to get to his body. Hopefully he hadn't yet died... so that he didn't have to leave this world – alone... without someone telling him that they loved him just as he was... without someone expressing their love to him...

I broke down in racking sobs, again. That time they came from total emptiness, helpless and hopelessness. I was such a fucking goddamned pussy, a fucking weakling, a fucking worthless piece of owl shit, not worthy of living... I thought of his angelic face, with the occasional (frequent) orneriness filling his eyes... the memories of how he'd tried over and over again to wake me up, the soft petal kisses he'd bestowed on my face, neck and back, how his hand had traveled my spine first up then down...

There was only one way to see and feel him again.

Without a second thought, I worked my body around so that I was totally looking down into that wide expanse of 'nothing'.

I'd always wanted to be free like a bird... you know... flying in mid air without a concern in the world.

The experience was indeed freeing and liberating. I was released, at last.

But then cold hard reality struck, and it struck like a mighty locomotive. Reality was intimately upfront and personal as my body twisted and turned, trying to right itself from totally unnatural positions, sinister positions, evil positions, all encompassing positions... and then it stopped. I stopped.

The screams were surreal. Were they coming from me? I didn't think so... as I was too busy trying to catch my breath... shards of pain began tearing me apart, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes... and everything between points.

The screams were coming closer and closer and closer. And then I heard that same voice screaming in a language I didn't understand... but it was coming even closer and closer yet.

I chanced taking enough strength to open my eyes. All I saw was the face of a boulder 10 times my size. I was lying right up against it, intimately. But... what was that up against my back? I then realized I was being hugged by mother earth. God, she was strong. God, I was weak.

And then I felt hands touching me.

And then I felt lips touching my cheeks... they were wet... they stung... yet the more they touched me the less the sting...

The voice of the boy... was ringing in my ears... he was screaming... he was sobbing... yet I was fading into a sunset...

I tried to move... I wanted to see the eyes of that boy that I realized I loved... but my body would not respond. I felt nothing physical. It was like I was in suspended animation. The pain was gone. All of it was gone. All I felt was peace and tranquility.

And then it happened.

I separated from the earthly body that had carried me around on the planet Earth for 15 years, 7 months and 16 days, 417 minutes and 44 seconds.

As my spirit ascended, I looked down to see a boy, a naked boy, a boy named Jesus holding that body I'd just shed away like a locust sheds its skin on a hot summer evening.

All sorts of hands started touching my Spirit. They weren't frightening. They were rubbing and soothing my shed off pain, welcoming me into The Tomorrow like I was an old friend from forever and ever and ever and ever, Amen.

I looked all around trying to see, but found I had no eyes to see with, however, yet... the only thing around and within was light... a calming experience of light, warm, inviting, soothing.

And then... I felt a pair of arms envelope my entire being. They were strong, yet they were gentle at the same time... comforting... loving... supporting... yet I had nothing to support... I tried to move my arms toward it... but I had no arms... I tried to sit up... but I had no spine nor a butt to sit on, and no legs. I realized I was a nothing... yet, I was something... wasn't I?

A kindly elderly woman's said, "Rest child. You've nothing to be afraid of... you're safe now. Nobody's going to hurt you because there's nobody here to hurt you. There is nothing here but love. It is freely given and is freely received. Our Welcoming Committee will be along shortly. He's got some things to say to you about before you can enter the Kingdom of Forever... you're a good boy filled with life, vitality, courage and strength."

Although I could not see, I began a vision of 'seeing' an elderly, grandmother type 'person' holding me in her arms, looking into my eyes (if I had them to be looked into, that is). She leaned down, or up, or to the left, or to the right – direction had no meaning because there was no direction or any other point of reference.

If I would have had lips, if I would have had sensation, if I would have had vision... I would have seen and felt her lips touch mine in a very meaningful manner, like she really cared, like she wanted only the best for me, and to make me feel like someone, and to give me a reason to love back – freely, without question or reservation. The same voice, if she had a voice box at all... since there was no sound emanating from anywhere or from anyone, said, "Child, you need to see this... you need to make a decision... and yes, even though there is nothing else, you need to be present on Earth..."

Those same arms, the ones that didn't exist, lifted me up forward... if there was such a thing as up and forward... seeing with a set of eyes that I didn't have... I saw the boy Jesus lean down and kiss the lips of the body I no longer had. He then crawled up the crevice, looked all around, especially toward the north... on the distant horizon, I saw 2 boys racing down the beach... one, a black boy, Antoine … his face was clear, and beside him, running almost faster, was his mate Matt... Behind them, maybe 30 paces away, was an oriental boy... Benji... and alongside him was Andy, William and Harry... and then racing in a huge truck was … I could see their faces clearly – Jeremy and Jason. In the back of the truck were two boys, white boys, Allen and Angel.

Because of the distance involved, I knew that Jesus could not see, nor sense them.

The boy took one more look down into the crevice where lay my lifeless human body, and then seeing no absolutely no movement from it, he crawled up the canyon, and then using hyper human strength climbed up the rock tower, the same one that looked like a chimney, the same one that I thought he'd jumped from... when he got his legs up and over the ledge, he stood, looked all around everywhere in his sphere of vision. He then put his face into his hands... and then I felt his pain... it was totally blinding... the soft woman's voice softly said, "He's going to join you, Adam. He should be here in a little while; although it will take him much longer to die... he won't land correctly, in a way that will cause him immediate death. He will live long, but he will be dead, too."

"No, that can't happen... I thought he... I thought he... I thought he was dead... he'd already jumped. I just knew he had. Stop him... you've got to stop him!" If I would have had voice... it would have been screaming, and if I had lungs, the sound from my throat (if I would have had had a throat) would have come from their depths for the entire world to hear.

The fear, the terror, the pain, the uncertainty, the screaming anger, dissipated just enough so that my vision returned... I saw Jesus sit on the rock, and then he firmly took his penis and began stroking it meaningfully and purposefully... I was then given his feelings... while his penis felt really, really good, and if I had had a penis then mine would have been just as erect as his... but I didn't have one... overshadowing the pleasurable sensations was an overwhelming despair – I knew the feeling oh so well... I felt every bit of it... and I also felt my body, his body, begin to tense up, as orgasm was certainly just around the corner... but then a vision returned – he laid down on the rock. His legs were hanging off the edge... he scooted to the edge so that his butt was right on the sharp edge of the rock... his, my orgasm was fast approaching... I could feel it, so could he... while it was pleasurable... the other sensations deep inside were mitigating the pleasure...

From the corner, from the periphery of my eyesight, which I had none, I saw Antoine and Matt quickly approaching... they were at the base of the rocks... Antoine looked up... without hesitation, as if he were a leopard or Cheetah or some similar creature, he bounded up the rocks without difficulties. During his ascent, he looked down into the crevice, saw my body, then he looked up to Jesus, saw what he was doing, and for a moment I felt his fear and terror, and his knowing what was about to happen, and the knowledge that he'd never make it up there in time.

Just then, a man, with widely stretched golden tipped wings appeared in a vision... his voice, if he would have had a voice, said, "Adam, you must stop being afraid. Our Father has given me permission to send you back... if that's what you want to do... the choices are all yours and yours alone."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"It matters not, Adam. Not now. You must make a decision very quickly, or else it will be too late. I must warn you that if that boy dies, you will be separated from him, here, and forever. While your spirit will be free, you will still yearn for that which you cannot have. The question you must answer is: Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, I said, "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Then tell him... he will hear your voice inside of his being."

When I entered his sphere, I felt pain, but I also nearly became overwhelmed with his thoughts of – me – as he closed in on the last few strokes before going over the edge... over the edge into orgasmic death. It would be the last one he'd ever experience... and he was determined and ready for it to happen. Despite the overwhelming pain, uncertainty, terror and hopelessness, I sent to him a trace of light, and willed myself to say, "I love you, Jesus. I'm feeling the joy of your body, and I'm feeling your pain... I know what it feels like... I'd thought you'd ended your life by jumping off... I've been so damned confused... but I'm not confused anymore. Right now, I'm dead... I don't know what's going to happen... but I've been told that we'll never ever be together if you die like I did... I did wrong."

I turned, but only if I would have had a body to turn, toward the man wearing the robes and wings, the wings that were glowing majestically, brilliantly, but not mythically. If I would have had a head to nod with then I would have nodded...

Somehow, the angel and I... made our way safely down the rock cliff. With his help, I lifted my body from the deep crevice. The body was distorted beyond recognition. The body's face was also smashed beyond any recognition; its arms were bent in unnatural positions; as were its thighs. The spine was fractured in 85 places... it held no strength... the skull was splintered. A white, egg like material was oozing from a gash across the forehead.

Unable to keep myself from doing it... I looked up to the top of the chimney rock... if I would have had a penis... if I would have had nerve endings and a central nervous system to feel with... I would have experienced the most powerful orgasm of my entire life right then and there... I was afraid for Jesus... his free arm, and his legs were flailing... in the sunlight, I saw several drips of fluid fly from that which designates him as male. I heard his voice announce arrival at that splendid moment.

Just then a brilliant white light enveloped the entirety of the world.

Then it quickly passed.

Somehow, everything had changed.

I had awareness... unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

I had vision...

I had hearing...

I was no longer mystic or mystified...

I had arms...

I had legs – both of them... they were there... and they were fully supporting all of my weight... how could that be?

The angel... yes, he felt like an angel... yet I didn't know what an angel felt like, did I? He then wrapped me into a cocoon of peace, tranquility, peacefulness, and strength... so much so that when I saw what happened to my leg and penis I was not shocked, appalled, and I did not get sick to my stomach... at seeing my leg being sliced off to the bone with a large box knife, nor did I experience pain at seeing the bone separated by a hammer and chisel. The boy was very little... no more than maybe 2 or 3 years of age, maybe younger, I don't know. Vaguely, the face looked much like mine. Perhaps that's what I looked like at that age... I don't know. There were no pictures to see for any kind of comparison.

During the process of taking away the bone, the chisel slipped. It traveled upward, landing on and in my maleness, leaving but a bloody gaping gash.

Instead of terror, bewilderment, frustration, unknowing... I felt only peace, understanding, acceptance and closure.

The angel squeezed me tightly. When he did that, I felt strength and stamina return like I'd never before had or experienced. Then he unfolded his wings and said, "My Father has healed your suppressed memories, Adam. I'm just along for the ride... as soon as someone brings up your crutches, I'll be gone.

Being once again aware, I looked down to the rocks where my feet had been firmly planted. My left leg was absent, although my thigh was fuller, unlike the gnarly and totally disfigured clump of flesh and bone. My penis, although still disfigured looked like I'd never before seen... instead of the jagged, scarred and ugly appearance, it was largely smooth... and very erect, standing out proudly as if it were a flag pole firmly moored to the face of a large tall building.

The angel continued, "We'll always be looking out over you. You'll live to the ripe old age of <giggles> … sorry, I can't tell you that... and, Adam, as soon as you write this segment of David's story... you will remember none of what has transpired. As far as your brothers are concerned... none of this has happened... if you will now look down the mountain..."

I looked down with eyes that could see... the sound of the ocean overtook my senses of hearing... and then the sounds and sights of my brothers playing in the ocean, naked, was clearly heard and seen.

The angel said, "Shall we go down the mountain? Someone wants to see you."

Using the eyes I could again use to see with, I saw Jesus standing next to the rock where I'd laid our clothes. He was looking them over curiously, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen such a thing. He then looked into the air, like he was seeing and talking to someone very close to him.

He then reached for the crutches, stood them up on the tips... and then handed them to me.

How did that happen? And when did I get down the mountain... I was standing right in front of him. But how could I do that? I had no leg... when I looked down to see how that could possibly happen – all I saw was that I was standing upright as though I had both legs.

Jesus was looking at me awestruck, and then his smile lit up his face. His eyes were bright, clear and sparkling despite their deep chocolate colored irises.

I accepted the crutches.

The angel then spoke his final words, "I love you, Your Father loves you, and your new parents and your new brothers love you... but... this boy bringing up your crutches loves you the most, in human terms that is. Be well. Live life to its fullest. Love freely. Let others love you, too. Be all that you can be. I'll always be close by. You'll never be alone again. Your past will no longer hold you hostage."

I said, "Thank you."

Jesus, with his eyes wide open, looked into mine with an intensity I'd never before seen, replied, "You're welcome. Come on, let's play."


"Adam, are you okay?" Peggy asked. She was leaned over me. Her hand was on my cheek. The look in her eyes was that of complete and total love.

I reached up, brushed my hand against her soft cheek, looked into her eyes, and then, feeling a tremendous sense of peace, harmony, and love, I lifted myself up from a reclining position and kissed her lips.

We then released. It was then, while lying back down, that I realized two things: first, Jesus was lying right next to me, and secondly, my shorts were wet … almost like I'd been swimming... yet it didn't feel like water. With no need to look down to realize what that wetness was or represented, I looked down anyway... my shorts were indeed wet – in one particular location... the area over a distention from that which designates me male. Jesus moved such that he was lying on my back... his shorts, too, had the same appearance.

A hot flash of embarrassment took hold of my body, heated me up surely to a flash point that I'd never before experienced.

I looked deeply into her eyes. In them I saw only love and concern... She kissed my cheek, and said, "Adam, just be yourself. You're loved. And you're certainly capable of loving, too. If you are true to yourself then great things are in store for you."

I was no longer afraid. Something inside of me snapped right then and there. I said, "I'll try. I feel different. I can't explain how or why."

"I know, honey. Don't try to think about it too much... just live... and simply be yourself."

Without thinking any contrary thoughts, I arose from my spot on the chaise lounge, put my hand on her cheek, and then, again, without reservations touched my lips to hers.

When we parted, Jesus put his arms around my torso and squeezed gently and firmly. I looked into his eyes. Seeing only love and caring and dedication, I looked to Peggy, smiled, and then leaned down and kissed Jesus' lips, quickly but meaningfully. I then looked back to Peggy. In them I saw no trace of disgust or anything else that would make me believe she was ashamed, nor did I feel shame.

"Why don't you guys go swimming? The boys are all out there. They've been waiting for you two to wake up."

I nodded, then for the first time, simply because it was the only thought that passed through my mind, I said, "I love you."

She replied, with tears brimming from her eyes, "I know. And I love you, too. Adam, your Dad and I would like to talk to you about your legal position in our family this evening... although the paper-work is just a formality; we still need to get it started... if it's okay with you?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'll try to be a good Son." I said, with confidence spreading through my being.

She replied, "You already are. Don't worry so much, okay?"

I nodded.

She took off for the house. Jesus pulled me into him, kissed my lips firmly and wantonly, grabbed my crutches, handed them over, and then led me into the bathroom where we peed, standing side by side.

Finished with that chore, without fanfare or delay, we removed our shorts and underwear, stood there taking in the sights of our bodies for a few seconds, like lovers would do, and then, feeling that we needed to be with our adopted brothers, tossed them aside to the floor and went to the pool.

Like Peter did for David, Jesus led me to the waters' edge, took my crutches, and then pushed me in.

I landed between Benji and Andy. They reached out their arms and pulled me to the surface. While I didn't really need their help, I accepted anyway.

Just then, we three were splashed like crazy. Within a second or two, Jesus surfaced, put his arm around my waist and allowed his fingers to settle into and between my butt cheeks... largely he was unaware.

Benji, meanwhile, stood directly in front of me, looked deeply into my eyes, and then he put his hand on each temple. He closed his eyes, and then within seconds opened them and returned his gaze to me. He smiled brightly, leaned in and kissed my left cheek. He removed his hands, wrapped his arms around Andy, saying, "We were just getting ready to play water soccer... wanna join us?"

"Sure, kewl. Uhm, Benji... I'm ready to be healed. Would you please help me?"

"I'm ready to be healed... would you please help me?"

"No, you've already been healed. I don't need to do anything. You're going to be okay... in fact, you're already okay. Love and cherish your Bonded One. The bond will never die."

Just then a ball, the soccer ball we played with, connected with my head. We all looked in the direction it had come from. David, with an wickedly evil expression on his face, snickered...

The war was on.

And quite unlike usual... Jesus, Andy, Benji and I prevailed in victory. Basking in glory, we headed to the side of the pool. The losers joined us. We talked about this, that and everything under the sun that came to our minds. I don't know... it seemed like we'd known each other all our lives. It felt good to be a part of the family. Even though the words weren't said... we knew we all loved each other in a very real and meaningful way.

We were all hard, and for once I didn't feel self-conscious or embarrassed. I made no effort to hide or otherwise put out of sight my own evidence of virility.

David, then Peter climbed up and out of the pool. Peter got David's crutches for him, and then Peter said, "We're going to the pool room... anybody want to join us?"

Glances were given and received by all around...

In the midst, Grandma came out of the house. She announced that dinner would be ready in no more than an hour.

Starved hungry, we acknowledged her announcement. She giggled wildly as we all bellied up to the side of the pool to hide the evidence of teenage maleness in full speed ahead.

When in the shower room... Jesus nor I had any reservations about 'assisting' each others' journey to a planet way off in the distance. The guys were paying no attention to us. They were too busy with meeting their own needs, and the needs of their Bonded One.

Once we were rested up from the rather short journey from here to there, and from there to here... showers were taken, and since there were no needy poles to lead our way... we headed into the house bare and unconcerned. Even I felt no misgivings, shame, guilt, or any of the other usual negative feelings. Jesus and I sat down on the a bar-stool apiece.

Most everybody did, however, look at my leg, my stump that is. Even I looked down to see exactly what they were looking at... initially, I wondered if my penis had arisen from Jesus' touch on my back with his right hand cupped on my left butt cheek... I was not hard at all... instead, I saw a somewhat different stump – instead of gnarled... I saw some muscle definition clearly evident.

David came to me, got down on his hands and knees, and looked at it intently. He then looked into my eyes and said, "Dude, you've been working out... kewl, way to go!"

Andy, the curious one, walked over, looked at my leg, too, and then... checked out my penis. I reached down, lifted it up and away from its resting place between my twin orbs, looked at it carefully. It looked different though I couldn't put my finger on what exactly what was different about it.

Benji walked over to us. He looked into my eyes, seemingly asking for permission to view it. I nodded.

He, too, got on his hands and knees, observed it carefully... feeling okay about myself, I lifted it up once again so that he could see all of it. I rolled around the skin just before the corona. The sensation was way too good to keep doing it, so I quit. Benji looked all around the room to see if any adult was present. There wasn't. He said nothing, but he smiled widely. The look in his eyes said it all.

Goose-bumps adorned my arms and I shivered. Thinking I was cold, which I was not, Jesus put his arms around my torso and pulled me into him. He was warm, and he was inviting.

Unfortunately, the touches and attention paid their toll. Jesus giggled at seeing my penis pulsing and rising to the occasion. Sensing my impending embarrassment, he got up, went into the bathroom next to the TV room, and came back with my shorts and underwear, which, with his help and assistance, I put on.

Dinner consisted of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, a tossed green salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, shredded carrots, a dash of Mrs. Dash oregano, tomato and garlic seasoning, and Ranch dressing. Dessert consisted of butterscotch pudding topped with a fluffed egg white and milk substance that was to die for, well, almost.

By the time cleanup was performed, the dishwasher loaded and started, trash taken out, and plates, glasses, silverware and bowls put away, the hour had passed. We headed back outside, swam for a while, and then it was suggested that we return to the pool room to 'shower'.

Although both Jesus and I were hard as flag poles, we decided against it. Unknowingly, yet with intense feelings, all of which were somewhat confusing to us, we decided not to join them. Instead, we sat together in a comfortable chase lounge, side by side, with our arms wrapped around each others' shoulders and torsos.

When we were alone, I looked into Jesus' eyes. The intensity of the moment was nearly palpable. If I could have touched his irises then I would have felt them pulsing, but, as it were, I only sensed they were. Otherwise, I was totally into him. Sensing the intensity of the moment, he looked up and into my eyes. His lips parted slightly, the tip of his tongue jetted out just slightly as if he were going to moisten them… but, we were already wet. So why did he do that?

Although I'm pretty darned smart in the book department, I have so much to learn about life and other people… especially him. He's very complicated, yet his needs and wants are so very simple and few.

"Earth to Adam." Two voices snickered in unison.

Startled, we looked around. David was grinning, as were Peter, Matt and Andy… the rest were watching us... were they waiting for us to 'do' something? I couldn't read their intentions.

Peter silently nodded.

Seemingly on autopilot, together, Jesus and I, headed up the back stairs to my room. He closed the doors behind us, and then turned to me and smiled impishly; like he was inviting me into his inner sanctuary, into his heart.

Our shower was quick and to the point... no messing around... just soap and water... but there was something stronger going on between us... something that couldn't be explained away... yet we understood exactly what it was, fully and completely, without any trace of doubt.

When we lay down in bed, our arms and legs intertwined in a most thrilling way. Our lips joined... and, no, they didn't join with hesitation or nervousness... instead, we joined in a way that neither of us had ever before experienced with anybody else, period.

I do not know what made me do what I did next... I just did it solely on spontaneity, like I was a robot or something... and an emotional one, at that.

I got up from the bed, walked into the hallway without hesitation or bothering to put anything on over my raging hardness, opened the linen closet door, retrieved a fresh new bottle of body lotion, returned to our room, laid down on the bed, brought my legs up to my chest, and handed the bottle to Jesus.

I'd never before had any inclination of wanting something to go inside of me... 'that' had always been a place which provided only relief into a porcelain receptacle, against a tree, under a bush, or elsewhere, depending on the situation or circumstance or urgency.

Jesus had other plans, though... not so fast, I gathered. He gently pushed my thighs and leg back down to the bed, crawled onto me so that we were face to face, and it was there and then that, once again, we joined our lips in a most titillating manner.

When we'd come up for air, he'd begin softly, urgently speaking in his native tongue... like he was possessed, or something.

Slowly, our breathing returned to normal, but our bodies were totally on fire. There was nothing we could do about it except to roll with the ebb and flow of our spirits joining, and separating just enough so that we yearned for more.

He surprised me… maybe it was that he felt I was just about to blow a cork… yes, I felt yearning, but it wasn't the usual kind, like when I was taking care of my own needs… with only one destination in mind.

Different? Yes. Bad? No. Good? Yes, absolutely, no doubt.

As quickly as a rabbit moves about, he kissed my lips one more time, and then headed down my neck, chest, belly, finally landing into the forest of pubes, which was about to get rained on should he touch it.

He didn't touch my penis even though I desperately wanted him to. Instead, he urged me to raise my legs up and over my head. I felt totally vulnerable... what was he doing?

And then my question was answered... without another moments' hesitation, I heard a deep intake of air, and then felt it blow against my nether regions, and then I felt same being touched... like I was being spread apart, down there... between my butt cheeks... and then it happened.

He touched me. There.

But it wasn't any old touch... no, not at all, it was wet... and the touch nearly took me off of the bed and into orbit. But, his firm hold on my hips kept me from leaving the bed.

Then awareness came.

I was just about to stop him, knowing where he was, but then I couldn't believe the pleasurable sensations his touch was sending through my entire body… if ever there was time when I about lost 'it' – it was then.

And, I was also afraid. I was so afraid that he'd find something so totally repulsive that he'd leave me forever… but I was to worry not – deliberately he snaked his tongue into that deep dark cavern… a place where, never in a million gazillion years, I would ever have imagined anyone being, or me being, for that matter.

And, oh my God, the pleasure… holy shit!

Carried away on some distant planet, enjoying the colorful scenery before my eyes, I felt something touch my lips… immediately, I recognized the touch as being from him… his kisses are unique, unlike any I'd ever felt before in this lifetime… mind you, other than Mom touching my lips, and Jesus' early attempts at bringing me love – which I had denied … I had no real experience with kissing…

He was kissing me? But what was that touching me below, down south of the border, right between my cheeks – there?

Jesus giggled. Unable to stop myself, I wrapped my arms around his torso, let them travel down his back, and then, without hesitation, cupped my hands on his butt and pulled whatever that was … deeper inside me... the feelings were magnificent ... I couldn't stop them... I didn't want to stop them... so I didn't.

I welcomed that feeling. I welcomed his entry, and I helped him to reach the end of the tunnel. He tensed up. I thought he was hurting... but then he pulled out, nearly all the way, and then without warning he slammed back into me, to the hilt. He was gasping, and then it happened.

He screamed his arrival on the far distant planet named Jupiter... though he was speaking in his native tongue, making no sense to me... I, right then and there, promised that I'd learn his language so that I understood... yet... I did understand... as his body shook and rocked and rolled – I knew exactly what was happening... I brought my hands back up his spine, and then grasped his head and brought his lips to mine.

As his moment began ebbing away, he started to get up and off me, but... I wasn't ready for him to leave yet. Quickly, I ran my hands down his back, held him steady, and then he collapsed against my belly and chest, whimpering slightly, attempting to sob, but he was unable to fully express his feelings until I pulled his face into my neck and held him gently.

I kissed his cheeks lightly, all the while whispering love, words of encouragement and praise. He began lightly crying, like his little heart was about to explode with bliss and happiness. His heart was, indeed, pumping like a pump gone mad. His breathing was slow to return to normal as he continued to cry.

I put down my legs, then grabbed him into my arms and held on tightly as he expressed his overflowing emotions into my neck.

I knew he wasn't finished expressing his emotional upheaval when he lifted off, lay down beside me and pulled legs up high in the air. I quickly pulled him into my arms, and held him tight... I knew that he needed me worse in that way than me entering his soul place.

We didn't speak... nothing needed to be said. We just needed to 'be'. And that is exactly what we did... for the rest of the night. I got very little sleep, but that was okay. He'd awaken every once in a while, sniffle once or twice, and fall back to sleep after I pulled him back into my chest and belly with my arms around his form. Sometimes, he'd awaken only enough to take in a really deep breath and exhale.

Finally, at about 4:30am, after he'd been sound asleep, without interruptions, for over an hour, I allowed myself to fall off to sleep, though I did not sleep soundly, always awaiting him to wake up again. I swore a solemn oath, on my grave, that I'd always protect the boy lying in my arms. I hoped against all hope that my love, encouragement, hope and morale was passing in and through him. It was then and there that I realized I could love without strings attached... not that I'd ever learned to put strings on anybody... it's just that I'd never loved anyone as deeply as I did him.

Eventually, after waking from one of my sleeping 'spells' the urge to pee could no longer be denied. Jesus was still sleeping soundly, all the while nestled in close, slightly snoring. I leaned down, kissed the top of his head, and then made my way out of bed, dropped to the floor, scooted into the bathroom, hoisted myself onto the toilet and let loose with a torrent of pent up urine... and, at the same time, some things from the other side of my anatomy.

Finished, flushed, and hands washed I scooted back into my bedroom proper. Jesus was lying on his side, facing the bathroom, and with the sunlight behind his head he looked just what I understood an angel to look like. I scooted in closer, and genuinely thought he was still sleeping, however, up went his head so that our eyes met. His face brightened, as if it could light up anymore than it already was… he smiled… and that completed the transformation into official 'angel'. Then he lowered his head down off the side of the bed, closed his beautiful eyes, licked his lips, and then puckered them up in such a way that they looked like an 'O'.

His invitation was not to be denied. I closed the distance in record time, and then put my mouth purposefully and completely and entirely over his.

I was so very close to losing it… he must have sensed it… he's quite intuitive I came to learn and respect… he bounded off the bed in a backward somersault over my head. Landing on his feet, he giggled and then headed into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, groaned and grimaced, stared into my eyes like there was no tomorrow… and then he smiled, folded his hands together as if he were praying thanksgiving.

Inwardly I had to and did giggle at seeing his animation… you could clearly see when his efforts were rewarded… his eyes would go wide open, then they'd close when he was working really hard, and then he'd open them back up, and begin clapping his hands – if only briefly.

After four repetitions, he grinned widely and gave me a thumbs' up, and then sent me a blow-kiss.

After taking care of the rest of the business, the toilet was flushed, and then he jumped into the shower and got the water to running. He poked his head out, waved his hand inviting me to join him, gave me his million dollar smile, and disappeared behind the partial wall separating the main bathroom and the shower enclosure.

How can you deny that?

Ya can't. No way. Not ever. Never. Any denial would be sacrilegious. He knew I couldn't resist. And, no, I couldn't resist, and didn't.

He washed me meticulously, leaving nothing unturned... at least until he got to my penis, which was waving madly in the air… correction… it was waving with pure unadulterated - lust.

He handed over the washcloth, saying that he didn't want to get started on my prong because of the fear that he wouldn't be able to stop. Okay, I got the message – but I didn't want him to stop… no way… my nads were in a complete and utter state of needing to be released.

I didn't trust myself, so I just squeezed the lather over my tool, and left it at that. Totally amazed at the whole thing of washing my pole, he expressed his feelings, "How do you not make it shoot? Mine always shoots!"

He then looked up into my eyes… he was dead serious, needing an answer.

As serious as I could be, because I meant to be, because I, too, was curious, I said softly, "I don't know."

He kissed my lips then laid down flat on his back on the marble shower ledge, closed his eyes, and slightly spread apart his legs. The sight of him was breathtaking… I could sit for hours and hours watching him, and I have indeed taken occasions during the night to do just that.

I then washed him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, with a tickle or two thrown in for good measure, but he didn't want me to tickle him, so I quit. He then lay across my lap, offering his bottom for my close up inspection. Without delay, I squeezed out a generous dollop of body soap and gently, carefully, and with a strong urge to show him my love, washed his bottom so that it was squeaky clean. I didn't insert my finger inside even though I wouldn't have minded doing so, remembering how much pleasure I'd experienced when he'd done it to and for me.

After drying off, Jesus took my hand and scooted to the bed with me. He then climbed up and helped me to get up, too. We then became a tangle of arms, legs, and sex organs. I felt myself quickly reaching a plateau, and I was contented with where we were going and what we were doing... I was in heaven, pure and simple.

Wearing a full mischievous grin, Jesus interrupted our interlude into love making by reaching above my head, to the bedstead and grabbing the bottle of body lotion. He then positioned himself over my lower regions, started to squeeze out some of the stuff, but I stopped him. I took hold of the bottle, sat it back on its perch, rolled him over onto his stomach, rubbed his back, and then kissed his spine all the way from his neck to that little knob just between his twin half-spheres.

I had never even thought about a butthole being sexy, or even a guys' butt for that matter... however, he was different. I would overcome any obstacles or hold-ups, no matter what it took. I recalled how he'd attacked my hole without a single qualm or hesitation. Any reserve I may have had evaporated when I realized he'd taken a dump, and how much care and attention I'd paid to him in the shower... I sniffed a couple of times just to make sure... but I was on a mission to pleasure him no matter what it took to do so.

With that, I rearranged myself so that I was lying between his outstretched legs. I kissed each cheek, then, with my tongue went deep into his recess. I spread apart those globes so that he would receive everything, and then some, of what he'd given me the night before.

He began wiggling around like crazy when I used my tongue as a spear. Slowly, he relaxed just enough so that my tongue was able to enter with some difficulty, but the longer I kept at it the more he relaxed, until he was wide open. I lapped up and around and applied much attention to that which was bringing him lots and lots of pleasure sensations... the more he responded the more I wanted to give him.

Nonchalantly, he reached up to the shelf, retrieved the bottle of lubrication, and tossed it backward so that it landed right next to his hip. He then turned his head around, smiled, and nodded.

I was very nervous at the thought of entering his passageway. I'm not the biggest dick that ever walked the earth, yet, from interactions with his butthole with my tongue, I knew that he didn't have the biggest butt in the world. Add to those concerns: I'd never made love to someone. I wanted our coupling to be as pleasurable for him, as I anticipated it being for me. With anxiety running through my veins, I kissed my way back up to the back of his head, then turned him over and explained and expressed my concerns.

Tears began streaming down his eyes, once again. I leaned in, touched each and every one of them with my lips, and used my tongue as a squeegee, to lap them up. They were sweet tasting little drips of honey. But I had no idea why he was crying again, until he said, "You won't hurt me, Adam. You're different. Please... I need to feel you. His body violently shuddered, and then his eyes turned to pleading with his heart. Very softly, he added, "I know how to relax... please make love to me, yes?"

Not waiting for my response, he grabbed the bottle of lotion and handed it over, pulled his legs up high, and waited while I thought this whole situation over again... not because I didn't want him... but because I'd promised I'd never hurt him, no matter what. While my penis had been hard while ministering to his needs, it had completely gone down while thinking that I could possibly hurt him.

My desire was there... I wanted to please this guy, and I wanted to make him feel good... first and foremost... instead of working to harden my tool, I dove back into his intelligent source with vigor, and, very soon, he had relaxed, and and my pole of pleasure was ready, willing and able.

I carefully surveyed the situation. He seemed to be open wider than he'd been before... if I had to estimate its size, it would have been open a little more than a silver dollar.

Meanwhile, he, despite my reluctance, urgently beckoned my presence 'there'.

Still concerned that I'd hurt him, I took the bottle of lotion, squeezed out a generous amount into my hand, and then, using my fingers, entered first one and then two – that totally relaxed him... he was as open as open can be. Meanwhile, he was moaning and groaning... not from pain... no way... he would urge his butt up and I put my fingers in...

Satisfied that he could possibly take me, I, for one last gesture to make sure he didn't hurt, tipped the bottle up, put the nipple against his wide open hold and then squeezed a generous amount inside.

Putting myself in position directly over his upturned butt, I laid down, permitting my raging and nearly out of control penis to softly lie between his cheeks... Meanwhile, I whispered into his ear, "I'm going to read your body language... if I sense that you are having any pain whatsoever, I'm going to stop." He rolled over just enough to join us together in a mad passionate kiss, and then he lowered his head to where it was resting between the pillows. I grabbed an extra pillow that had fallen to the floor, and placed it under his hips. I then kissed his cheeks, and, at the same time, noticed the lube was slowly oozing out of his still wide open anal orifice.

With trepidation, I aligned my rock hard tool to his offering place and put the head up against the opening. Jesus pushed his butt up and out as soon as we touched.

Encouraged, somewhat, I put some pressure against his back door. He accepted it willingly. At no time did my eyes leave the side of his face... I was looking for any inclination that I needed to stop.

Seeing none, I put more pressure down and up, rolled my penis around, top to bottom and from side to side. That got him to giggling, and me too, but I wasn't really giggling to be giggling... I was still very, very nervous about the position we were in. Meanwhile, the head of my penis very nearly popped through. I felt him tense so I backed up.

The head of my penis is smaller than the rest of my dick, quite unlike his, which had kind of a mushroom appearance to it... his shaft, cute as could be just as it was, was smaller whereas mine was bigger. I thought, while thinking about it a little bit, that his penis was cute... and I definitely wanted some more of what it had to offer.

Sensing my continuing anxiety, Jesus said, "Adam, I'm going to push down really, really hard, like I'm taking a shit... just do it. I need you."

I took a chance and put my chest down on his back, bent my back back so that it was poised properly. I wiggled around a little bit to make sure I was headed straight in the right direction.

"Are you ready, Amigo?" He said, then without waiting for a response, began bearing down with everything he had going for him... I had to laugh when a big puff of air exited his receptacle, because it tickled.

At the same time, though, I did as he told me to do, and pushed, and pushed all the way inside, until my healthy smattering of pubes were resting on his globes.

His eyes popped wide open, tears started flowing out of his eyes, yet he didn't appear to be in any pain, in fact, if anything, his hips raised up just that much more... any hesitation that I'd had evaporated when he squeezed down on my dick very firmly. Since I was all the way in, I relaxed and laid down on top of him, allowing my dick to just lazily be present. He would alternately squeeze and relax... it was driving me absolutely crazy... it was the first time my maleness had been inside of another human being... so much emotion was cresting and welling up inside me that tears began flowing freely from my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his chest and sobbed quietly, and whispered how much I loved him from the bottom of my heart, and then so much more.

Happily, he said, "I'm good now... ride me hard... I need your stuff in me. I love you, Adam. Please, your sperms will heal me. You cannot hurt me. You make me happy."

"I've never done this to anybody ever before... I'm just feeling us together... we're one, you know."

"Yes, I know. Please put your sperms in me... we can lie here all day long... but I need your sperms, please."

Hearing his words, knowing how so very much I loved him, and with all my reserves falling by the wayside... I backed my penis out to just where the head was inside, and then pushed it back in, knowing that I had a hair trigger anyway, and being inside of the dude I loved with all my heart... he got his wish on the next installment. I didn't pummel on or in him... instead, I just made little motions that brought me into maximum overdrive. I'd never experienced an orgasm like that, ever, and I was a pretty damn good masturbator, at least I'd thought so anyway.

Of course, the experience was made all the better because he was clenching and relaxing his muscles.

And then, my moment which had been steadily approaching – arrived. And with arrival came oblivion...

Spent and totally satisfied, I collapsed onto his back and butt, but kept my still extended maleness inside of him, just as he'd wished. Whatever his wishes were – they were my command.

When I fully returned to Earth, I lowered my hands into his groin, grasped his penis... and found that the sheets beneath him were already wet. He giggled, but didn't hesitate when I began stroking with clear and convincing intent and purpose... meanwhile, my ardor returned in full force and effect... he tensed up and began ramming my hand during his moment of release... and at the same time, well, I was a goner, in the best possible way, spilling yet another dose of sperms into the love of my life, just as he requested.

With nothing left to give, other than our lips and our love, we turned over onto our sides, nose to nose, lips to lips, and quickly fell asleep, totally satisfied.

*-* Meanwhile, outside the French doors of Adam's, and now Jesus' room *-*

Andy snickered to Harry, "I told you so!"

While the two boys were reveling in their newly found knowledge and acknowledgment, Benji, Allen, Angel, Matt and David were walking up the stairs to their rooms after an early afternoon swim, probably to do what had gone on in Adam and Jesus' room for the first time.

Benji, clearly distressed, urged his mates, his Bonded Ones, into their room, at which time he turned to Andy, and said with irritation in his voice, "You have no right to invade their privacy... it is their Bonding Moment. Being interrupted would have destroyed them! They could have never returned as the same people they were... while they are now different, they would have had a difference that nobody could possibly love."

Benji looked to William then to Harry then to Andy...

Nothing more needed to be said, so nothing more was said... intent upon joining from their minor rift, and feeling the intensity and knowing that they could have hurt and harmed their brothers... well, they joined in a sandwich.


Later, back in Adam's room, it was Grandma that knocked on their door loud enough to raise them from a dead restful and rejuvenating sleep. She stuck her head through the partially opened door after being acknowledged, after they covered their nakedness. To say she was bit surprised to see Jesus more or less lying on top of Adam, is putting it somewhat mildly.

Undeterred, feeling a tremendous love emanating from the room, from the boys in particular, she entered, walked to the bed, leaned down and kissed both boys' cheeks loving and tenderly.

Standing up, she announced, "Apple Strudel".

Both boys' eyes lit up... all sleep and all interest in same was gone, just like that. Without hesitation, Adam threw back the covers... but then realized they were totally naked, hesitated, but when Jesus bounded out of bed... he did too. Grandma respectfully exited their room, at which time Adam, being a little bit more reserved than Jesus, got out of bed, strode into the bathroom... found Jesus sitting on the throne exiting that which needed exiting. He got into the shower, turned on the water and adjusted it to just right.

Finished, Adam gave Jesus a pair of underwear to put on... they were way too too big... but nobody cared. Adam did likewise, and they headed toward the kitchen, their tummies growling and letting them know how they'd been abused through neglect.

Mom inquired about their 'sleeping in'. Jesus looked to Adam to answer her questioning. Adam, taking the cue, after receiving a nod from the younger boy, said, "Uhm, well, <he took Jesus' hand in his> we've talked about a lot of things... I can't really explain it very well... but... we're together. I love him. I love you, too. I hope you aren't angry."

At that, tears began running from Adam's eyes onto his cheeks, then they slid down and landed on his shirt.

Starting with Grandma, the family mobbed the two new Bonded Ones with hugs, congratulations, and from Matt, "It's about time, you guys!"

Then we heard sirens, lots of them. They were getting closer and closer and closer, and then they stopped. Seconds later, several men and women, in full uniform, with guns drawn at the ready, entered the patio, and then a team of 5 entered the house without so much as an explanation.

To say the family was both shocked and scared... is an understatement...

*-* Dad's POV *-*

Antoine and I took off for our appointments, one of which was to have the Escalade serviced because the engine was running rough, and it needed a set of tires put on all around.

They gave us a loaner vehicle to drive while ours was in the shop. I'd made prior arrangements for a Corvette. To say my son was surprised would be an understatement. We took off for the beach, as our first appointment was a couple of hours away.

I'd known for some time that Antoine needed some one-on-one time with me. He'd subtly hinted around about it for a week or so. Between the schedules for the two of us, we simply weren't able to get together sooner.

My son was all smiles. His eyes lit up with excitement when I got onto the 31 at Puunene, and then put my foot into the carburetor for about 2 miles until we met up with traffic. I'd decided we'd go down to Kalama Beach to be by ourselves.

The beach was crowded, yet I knew we would largely be alone walking at waters' edge. And we were. Surprisingly there weren't too many people around, and the ones that were beach going kept to themselves, permitting us to walk unencumbered.

When we got free of the visitors, I put my arm around his shoulders. He put his around my waist. He said, "Dad, Sensei is very ill. His time on this Earth is very short. Benji, as you already know, talks to him frequently. Although he doesn't say much, I can tell that he's worried, too. Although he was very excited to come here to Hawaii, his heart strings are still attached to his Grandfather. I understand where he's coming from."

My son squeezed my side muscle. He then went quiet. I looked down to see his head hang low, almost to his chest. I pulled him in close, closer than we already were. I then kissed the top of his head, stopped for a moment, and then brought him into a hug, held him firmly while he composed himself.

His Sensei had taught him so very much. In fact, I had the distinct feeling that Benji's grandfather had been there for him, in thick and thin, when his parents weren't, couldn't, or wouldn't. I was leaning toward choices 1 and 3. "Couldn't" wasn't even an option. He'd been their son after all, and if they wouldn't have been so damned selfish, self-centered and greedy, and depending on my boy to support their rich and out-of-normal-everyday lavish lifestyles, he might have still been their son, living with them. But – their loss, my gain. I was grateful.

Seeing my boy distraught, for a brief moment I debated about taking Antoine to see Father Ben. But then my mind returned to realize he just needed some Dad-Son time alone so that he could best figure things out... isn't that what a Dad is for? I know that I flew to California to speak with my Dad just before making the decision to move away to Hawaii. He'd been supportive, but left the final decision to Helen and me.

The thing was, though, that Helen and I were adults when the decision had to be made; Antoine is a child despite his adult-like-expected upbringing.

After a few minutes of silence, and realizing he'd made his statement, I said, "You know we could arrange for you and Benji to go to Singapore again, to see your Sensei and his Grandfather one more time before he passes into the next realm, right?"

Knowing that money was no object in our household, he didn't use it as an excuse to not accept my subtle offer to send him on a journey that he and Benji needed to go on. I made the decision to send the boys. They needed to go. They needed to say their goodbyes. I wasn't concerned about Shoo, as she'd made her position well known about the 'old man', using her terms, during private conversations Peggy, her and I had had. She'd left her homeland of her own free will. She'd said, more than once, that she had no relations back there, nor did she have any unfinished business.

At the same time, I really wanted an adult to go with them, although they probably didn't need one. I knew that Juan had an assignment in Beijing come the following week... I also knew that Juan and Antoine were tight in their relationship, a relationship that had begun under less than stellar conditions, in fact, I still held some resentment at Juan for doing what he'd done, how he'd lived, and what what had been required to provide the means to live his own lavish lifestyle... but we'd worked things out, and in fact, I'd clearly seen, on more than one occasion, how valuable he'd been to my Company, and, especially, my family. Those resentful moments were far and few between, and they weren't strong when they periodically did come up. And then I realized that had it not been for Juan's activities, then our family would have not had Antoine, his mother, and, yes, Juan, too, to bring unqualified and unending enrichment to our lives. And then I remembered how he, Antoine, had brought hope and life to Matt, how he'd saved David, Allen and Angel's lives, and how he brought joy and life to both Peggy and me.

Though Juan's mission was not yet known to anyone other than Fugi, Peggy, me, and a few key operatives at the Company, I felt no problem with at least telling Antoine, at this juncture.

Antoine separated just a little bit. He looked into my eyes... his were brimming with unshed tears. He nodded, then nestled into my chest, renewed his hold, but then separated us again, and said, "Dad, I haven't yet thanked him for all he's done... he was there for me when nobody else was."

He patted my back, finished the separation, at least partially as his arm returned to my waist, and then we continued walking down the beach with no particular destination in mind.

I said, "I want an adult to go with you. Now, what I'm about to tell you isn't known to the family, yet. Juan has an assignment in Beijing the week after next. I'll talk to him. I don't see that he'll have any problem with going a week early. To my knowledge, the jet will be available... I'll double check, and if it is free like I believe it will be, should I go ahead and reserve it?"

"Dad, this is something that Benji and I need to do together, alone. I don't want to hurt Matt in any way... and I don't want William, Harry and Andy to be hurt..."

I easily replied, "I do not see them being hurt by you and Benji taking care of business in this regard. I'm sure they'll understand. Understand, too, that Benji will need to come to his own decision on whether or not to take his Bonded Ones."

"Uhm, Dad, we've already kinda talked about making the trip by ourselves. He's thinking just like me. I guess this will be putting closure on our previous lives... it's hard to explain."

"I know, Son. I understand. I have no doubt that his Bonded Ones will understand, too. Just talk to them like you're talking to me. Be honest and forthcoming. These attributes always, without fail, win each and every time, though there are times when they may not seem so."

With that, I kissed the top of head once again, pulled him into a hug, and then we continued our journey, talking about this, that and everything else that came to mind.

When we arrived at the pier, we walked out to watch the surfers doing their thing for an hour or so, before we needed to return to the dealer to settle up on the repairs.

Having satisfied our need to alone and quiet, we headed down to the beach. We took off our shoes and socks, We took off, walking quietly side by side, all the while dodging the smaller breaking waves along the way. During our trek, my cell phone rang to announce a call.

It was the service manager from the dealer saying that I needed to return so that we could talk. He didn't sound very excited, and wouldn't say what we needed to talk about.

Upon arrival at the dealer, the service manager took us through the shop to the other side and out the back door. To say that I was surprised at seeing police, fire and rescue in their holding lot, would be an understatement. At the same time, Antoine pointed just beyond the emergency vehicles. It was then that I saw what remained of our vehicle, the Escalade.

Due to all the personnel milling about, I didn't see Fugi in their midst... he's not very tall so he's easily overshadowed. I looked to Antoine... he, too, was shocked. His eyes were wide open. When Fugi noticed us standing by the huge sliding doors, he made his way through the crowd, headed for us, and then, with grave expressions clearly coming and going on his face, arrived and wanted to pull me aside, away from Antoine.

I thought differently. I said, "Let me take Antoine to the waiting room. We'll talk then."

"Jim, one of my guys will need to stay with him." With that said, Fugi turned toward the crowd, pulled out his sat phone, and spoke into it for a brief few seconds.

My gut began churning, knowing, feeling that something was very, very wrong. I just didn't know what it was, yet. I was feeling torn in half, perhaps even in several pieces... my immediate concern was Antoine, and at the same time, I was worried about those back home.

Seconds later, a man, appearing to be in his early 30's came walking to us. I didn't recognize him. He didn't work for my Company... I knew everybody that worked there... as I interviewed each and every employee before they were hired.

Fugi spoke, professionally, "Jim, this is Tom Bradford. He's a special agent with the Hawaii office of the FBI. He's going to be with Antoine."

Antoine, my son, meanwhile, had his arm around my waist. His grip tightened... I could feel his fear, yet I didn't know what to do about it because I didn't have all the facts. I'm sure he felt my fear, too, though I tried to keep it in check. I said, "Go ahead and go with him... I'll be right there."

He nodded. I hugged him in close, kissed the top of his head, and then sent him with Agent Bradford.

Fugi, gravely concerned, took me to the Escalade, or what was left of it. It was a total loss, burned beyond recognition. The only way I knew it was ours was because I'd driven it so many times. Otherwise it just looked like another burned out shell of a vehicle.

When we arrived in front of it, Fugi spoke, "Jim, we found evidence of an incendiary device under the right rear quarter panel. Actually, it was a very sophisticated bomb that would have caused grave physical injury, likely death. Our people, the FBI and ATF are all over it. Right now, at this very moment, we've taken a valet driver into custody. The duties of valet driver is to take a vehicle from and to the reception area for customers, park the vehicle here in the lot, and then leave it alone until it's time for repairs. We've determined the bomb had been present for about one week, based on markings etched in the frame. Jim, we feel that the bomb, in all actuality, was a dud, and thankfully so."

He didn't say anything for a moment... he didn't need to... the gravity of the 'situation' sunk in, leaving not a trace of doubt that our lives had been in danger. I decided to not get pissed...

But who?

But why?

When was our vehicle out of sight, other than for running errands, and going out to eat at a restaurant we ate at frequently? My anxiety and fear returned with vengeance. I turned my attention back to Fugi, my heart was racing, and my lungs seemed like they were going to explode… At seeing my state of being, and before I could say anything, Fugi quickly said, "Your family is safe. There are no less than 50 people scouring your estate; they are surrounding your family… trust me, Jim, they are safe… I promise you."

"Where's Juan?" I asked, suddenly seriously concerned. He was working a mission on the island as we spoke... other than to say it was a rescue, I can't say anything more about what it entailed.

"He's enroute to your location, Jim. He knows what's going on. He's waiting for a call from you. I'm sorry, Jim, this is all I know right now. A limo is on its way to take you and Antoine home. It should be here momentarily. Sir, until we know exactly who's responsible for this situation, we are on Devcon-1."

Devcon-1 is the highest possible state of alert. It means a situation has already occurred. It does not mean that a threat is imminent.

*-* Antoine's POV *-*

As Mr. Bradford escorted me into the service department's waiting area, no less than 3 agents joined us. By the looks of their suit jackets, it wasn't hard to see and realize they were heavily armed.

"What's going on?" I asked demanding an answer, not knowing if my family was safe at home... where was Jeremy... weren't he and Jason going to the beach for alone time?

My phone rang. Quickly, I reached into my pocket, retrieved it, looked at caller-id... it was Matt.

"Hey babe; are you okay?" I asked rapidly, not really caring if I was understood... there was no time... my senses were on full alert... contrary to previous precarious situations, my body was betraying my training to be calm at all times... my heart was - racing... my breathing – labored... my vision – tunneled, even my legs were shaking...

Matt said, "What the fuck's going on around here? There's cops all over the fucking place... they won't even let us go into the house... we're, uhm, not even dressed, if you know what I mean... We can't even go to the pool house to get towels..."

"I don't know what's up... other than our vehicle's toast... it's burned beyond burned. Matt, just do what they say."

Sometimes Matt gets radical when he's super nervous or upset... without so much as saying I love you or fuck you... he disconnected our call.

I sent him a text message, "Love you!"

I put the phone back into my pocket, got up from the seat I was sitting on. Two of the agents eyed me suspiciously. Without worrying about it, I walked to the door to the men's room. One of the agents said to the others, "It's clear." And then to me, "Son, we'll be here at the doorway."

Somewhat caught up in the moment, still not fully in control of myself, I barked, "I ain't your son.", opened the door, went in, entered a stall, dropped my pants and underwear, sat down to think and reflect on the situation, trying against everything to find something or someone that would have set them off to do this fucking shit to our family... my family. I started down that road of thinking that I hadn't protected them... those thoughts were quickly dispelled when the bathroom door opened, and I heard Dad's voice say, "Are you okay in there, Son?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm just using it... Dad, what's going on?" I asked... I was surprised with the tone of my voice... instead of being focused and on full alert... it sounded almost child like... like I was scared... you know like the truth comes smacking you around...

I hadn't planned to actually using the facilities other than to just sit down, away from everybody, so that I could think... but my belly said differently...

I heard the door close... and then the sounds of water hitting the porcelain urinal fixture were heard... just as my bowels emptied, quite violently. As they passed, I said into the air, hoping against all hope that Dad would hear me, "I'm scared, Dad."

Softly, Dad said, "I'm concerned. Are you going to be okay? I mean... fear may be an ally... to be perfectly honest, Son, I'm kind of afraid, too. But, Fugi's is all over it... law enforcement is all over it... they're going to take us home so that we can all be together. There's strength in numbers, you know."

The last one fell, followed by a whoosh of escaping air. Finished, I cleaned up then joined Dad at the sink. I looked at the man in the mirror, the same one who'd taken me in, loved me when I couldn't stand myself... I wanted to close myself off, to swallow and hide the fear that I was feeling... experiencing... knowing... Then the words Sensei repeated over and over again came back to mind... "In order to defeat the threat... you've got to find and see it... and only then can you neutralize that which is needy of neutralization..."

Suddenly, as if a light switched on, I felt a sense of calm transcend over my Spirit. I relaxed, and then my penis elongated, and then the feelings of impending clothing catastrophe... before I could do or say anything … it happened. I felt the warm gush of liquid refreshments running down the inside of my legs... yeah, both of them. Dad, meanwhile, put his arms around me, held me steady... and kept me from falling to the floor on my face...

At the same time I was looking into Dad's eyes, through the mirror, I saw that I was smiling... and then, hopefully not bringing any attention to myself... I chanced taking a look down to just below my belt-line... seeing that my shorts were cool, calm and collected, I did see a wet trail just below the hem of my left leg... "Dad, I'll be right back... gotta use it again..."

With that, I hurried back into the stall, got my shorts down, and then carefully surveyed the carnage inside my underwear... seeing that my inner shorts were totally soaked, I quickly took them both off… The outside shorts, they were, thankfully, okay... not a drop... I smiled thinking of Matt, thanking him for breaking the tension. I closed my eyes, and then sent him everything I had from the depths of my soul... knowing that paybacks are sweet, I smiled, and then dropped my undies behind the toilet, tore off toilet paper, wiped my leg that was wet from an unplanned seminal emission, sent by none other than my Bonded One, tossed it into the toilet, stood up, pulled on my outside shorts, flushed, and then returned to the sink where I washed my hands – again. Dad had an amused smile on his face... I felt my skin flush... Thankfully he didn't say anything to make the little situation ... even more embarrassing.

Dad and I returned to the waiting room, sat down... and waited.

A few moments later, Matt sent a text message, it read: "You fucker... I was talking to a FBI agent! :-)"

Paybacks... of that variety... are priceless, and not soon to be forgotten.

A voice interrupted my 'moment' ... An agent said, "Mr. Blake, your ride is ready... whenever you're ready."

I looked up to see a huge hunk of a man standing in the doorway to the waiting room. He had to have been 6 foot 8 inches tall, at least 380 pounds, and built like a Mac truck. I got up, headed to the hallway separating the service department from the showroom floor in front... two agents were standing at the door... the big dude motioned for us to follow him. We trailed behind.

When we walked through the service department, you know where cars were actually worked on; the place was absolutely devoid of other humans. At the large garaged door, a black Humvee was awaiting our arrival. As soon as the agents surrounding it saw us, they looked all around, and then the big man opened the door... urged us to enter, and then it tore out, breaking all speed limits, surely. Everything passing by was a blur... the digital readout on the dashboard read 80.

Within minutes, normally a 30 minute ride, we arrived home. The driver parked the vehicle right next to the wrought iron fence surrounding the pool on all sides.

I saw all my brothers sitting around the pool, all huddled together. They looked up.

Matt came running toward the vehicle. He was however, stopped by a man in a black suit... what the fuck... the big dude exited the vehicle, as did Dad... we were escorted into the pool area, and then we were swarmed. Dad immediately went to Mom... she looked very upset. Together they walked to where we, Matt and I, were standing. All the while the security detail was carefully surveying the situation... she pulled me into a deep, deep hug, and then kissed my cheek meaningfully. I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugged her firmly... as firmly as I dared… if she hadn't been with child… then all bets would have been off – I would have hugged her to pieces… because that's what I wanted to do right then and there.

Matt threw his arms around me, nearly squeezed the life right out of me... not to worry... I loved it... and more importantly, I loved him with all of my heart.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw that Dad was being escorted inside the house. Mom said, "That's a good sign... they won't let us in... they aren't saying anything... do you know what's going on?"

Matt and I released our death grips on each other. We turned to face her, I said, "Mom, somebody, or some people torched our vehicle... it's totally trashed... Dad and I know nothing more... maybe Dad does... I don't know... the agents took me inside... anyway, Dad and Fugi talked as soon as I left. That's all I know."

Matt dropped his hand, reached his hand inside my shorts, held onto my left cheek, squeezed it gently, then released the hold but kept his hand in place. I looked at him; he was totally unaware of what he was doing... I decided to let it ride... I realized I need his touch just as much as he needed to give it.

David and Peter approached us. The agent permitted them access. We hugged, deeply.

Peter had been crying... the trail of tears was clearly present on his face. I held onto him for more than a moment.

Shuddering violently, Peter said brokenly, "I tried to tell everybody, and I thought that those people were wrong... I've said it several times that those guys told me that they were going to kill me if I ever said anything..."

Mom, taking over, took him into her arms, and said, "Peter, honey, I don't know what's going on, yet... but I do know that you had nothing to do with this... this is not your fault... oh child..."

*-* Peter's POV *-*

The feeling of my family all around me was comforting, yet, their love and support only had minimal effect on dispelling the fear coursing through my veins, as I clearly recalled the words of the fuckers who'd taken me into their dark world kept coming back and back again... I swear to God that they said they would kill me dead... the look in Harley's eyes, at the time of his sentencing told me that everything wasn't over... and that it wouldn't be over until I was dead.

David, from my backside, pulled me into a hug, held on firmly. Then Matt and Andy came over. They put their arms around my waist, between me and Antoine... as I constantly and consistently saw Harley's face.

Soon, we had a mass of arms holding and protecting and reassuring each other... after but a couple of moments, Benji walked to us. The look in his eyes was somewhat distant, though he was intensely focused on our states of being – I felt it – I knew it – feelings of being safe... returned.

At the same time, I felt a somewhat small issue rise and shine its presence against the skin of my butt cheeks... David was there, holding on firmly, pressing his maleness to keep it from being shown to anybody and everybody... somehow, I maintained parade rest... but I don't know how it happened. I did snicker. I turned my head, raised my arm up and around to pull David's face to mine so that I could kiss his lips, if only briefly.

Then Dad came walking out of the house. His face registered relief. He walked to us, and said, "Peter, Matt, Andy... I know what you're thinking... it is without merit, though." Dad then looked to Fugi...

Fugi took over, "I'm sorry that all of this happened to you. We have been informed from reliable sources, collaborated by the Department of Justice and Homeland Security, that what happened is a random act of terrorism. The suspect in custody is a sole operator. He's a loner. There's no indication that his actions are a part of any organized or disorganized facet in any known terrorist group. Nobody, other than he has claimed any responsibility... trust me... the underworld is in a state of tremendous competition, and they are quick to get caught in the media spotlight. The investigation into this continues, as we speak, but we're absolutely confident that your safety is assured. Life should get back to normal... the agents are being withdrawn, though we are going to station two agents at the driveway of your home... so anybody leaving or arriving will have to pass through them, first."

Antoine spoke up, "But... he had to have known that it was us..."

"No, Antoine, we believe that the activity was random... your family was targeted by a depraved individual who has a vendetta against anyone he perceives as being successful. Intel reveals that the young man lost his job about a month ago... and actually, he's upset with the whole system, so he found your vehicle because it represents significant financial resources... he's a lone ranger. He has a grudge against society." Fugi explained.

The way he said it... I believed him. The sick feeling that had been deeply embedded within the pit of my stomach relaxed, somewhat. Although it wasn't entirely gone, it was slowly dissipating moment by moment.

An agent with ATF stenciled across his back turned around to face us. He said, "Your house is clear. You may enter and exit, at will. There is no threat here."

The man then gathered up equipment, including a sonar device and other sophisticated gadgets. Several others exited the house with varying pieces of equipment, loaded them into black unmarked vans, and then they took off.

The agents then left, leaving behind only Fugi.

He asked if there were any questions. There were none, so, he, too, left the premises, leaving us alone to digest all that had happened.

Juan exited the interior of our home. He was alone. Harry ran to him. They embraced. Juan said, "The house is clear... there's no sign that anything's been tampered with, and there's no evidence that anyone other than you all have been here... we've reviewed surveillance, and we see nothing out of the ordinary." To Dad he said, "Jim, if you'd like me to, I'll be glad to take you to a dealer so that you can pick out a vehicle... otherwise consider me your chauffeur until you can acquire one."

"I'm going to stick around here for today. Peter, would you come with me... this won't take long... I promise..."

I wondered what he wanted to talk to me about... I mean his request just seemed a little out of the ordinary... sure he and I talked a lot... David's thing was still entrenched... however, without another thought, I walked to Dad... he then gave me an evil grin... before I could react, he picked me up in his strong arms, and then tossed me into the pool.

Well... that meant war... and the war was on. He tossed his wallet and phone in mom's general direction... just before Jeremy and Jason had their way with him... clothes and all.

Emphatically trusting dad, and Fugi, too, those old fears and terror soon passed on out of my system... again... the only lingering thought was, "When is 'this' going to end?"

*-* Adam's POV *-*

We had a total blast dunking, splashing, and generally raising all sorts of hell with Jim, I mean Dad... in the pool... it all started, of course, when he picked up Peter and tossed him into the pool...

Strange... but gone was the embarrassment and self consciousness of being naked, especially in front of the adults... and especially in front of Grandma... I suppose the hold-back inside of my chest was caused by the secret that Jesus and I held to ourselves... but I didn't have time to worry about that... because... then their attentions turned to me... and well, let's just say that my abilities to handle myself in the pool were challenged... all in fun, of course. At no time did I feel that I was in any kind of danger or anything... we were just having hella fun. After the scare we'd all experienced, it felt good to be playing around like little kids.


All the while, Jesus never left my side... he was constantly and consistently attempting to 'save me' from the clutches of my brothers... yet, there were a couple of times when he, too, joined in – dunking me, splashing me, but good. It was a conspiracy, I tell ya.

Then... it was his turn to receive the brunt of our family 'fun'... I stayed by his side, all the while, however, I, too, had some serious fun with him doing the same things he'd done to (and for) me.

Jim was quite the sight... what with getting out of the pool... his clothes were weighing him down, somewhat... he walked to Peggy... and then much to her surprise, put his arms around her and pulled her in close... effectively wetting her down.

Grandma was laughing hard... I saw Jim's face light up, and then we all laughed our asses off when he did the same thing to her as he'd done to his wife. She took it all in stride, and then excused herself to go inside the house.

At dinner time, after our showers and 'play time', as brothers, Benji, much to my surprise, looked into my eyes, and then discretely nodded. I wasn't sure what he was getting at. I just felt a sense of strength I hadn't known before descend over me. Jesus, meanwhile, was playing footsie under the table... and then he stopped...

In a moment of spontaneity, without rehearsal of any kind, I took his hand in mine, raised it up, put them, together, on the table... but then I was tongue tied... I didn't know how to say, or what words to use to describe that Jesus and I were together...

Grandma broke through... I felt myself light up like a Christmas tree when she said, "Ah... ain't that cute..."

Surprised, Jesus dropped the fork he was using to shovel food into his highly erotic mouth. Quickly, he looked into my eyes, and then they darted to his mother sitting between AZ and David... he squeezed my hand, and then turned his attentions to me...

Knowing that I needed to say something... I said calmly, reverently, "Jesus and I are together... we're... yeah, we're together... I'm not sure what happened to make me feel this way... but I do... I love him. And, well, yes, uhm, we..."

Jim said, "You don't have to tell us your secrets that originate behind closed doors, Adam... I'm very happy for you... I sensed something very, very different... and it's all good... okay, everybody, here's the deal: Adam... I've gone ahead and made an appointment with Richard, our family attorney... we meet with him tomorrow to get the paper-work started. I know we talked about it... but nothing happens if no action is taken... I'm happy that you revealed something so very personal to you... Jesus, we love you, too. We love everybody here... without question... Maria... do you want to say something...

She had kind of a blank stare on her face, like she didn't fully realize what we were talking about...

Antoine leaned into her and fully explained things to her using her native language.

She looked to her son with surprise clearly evident... yet... she wasn't angry or anything. Instead, she got up from the table, walked to us, leaned down, kissed her son, and then looked at me with an intensity I'd never before seen... then, clearly, in perfect unbroken English, she said, "You, take care of my son. Do not hurt him. He's been hurt enough in his young lifetime. Bring him joy. Give him what I cannot."

Without saying another word, she took my face in her hands, and then tenderly, but decisively kissed each of my cheeks, and then turned her attentions to her child, hugging him tightly into her bosom, with tears freely flowing down her cheeks, and onto his shoulders.

Feeling tightness in my chest and throat, the likes of which I'd never before felt, tears began leaking freely from my eyes. Mom got up from her chair, walked over, leaned down, and then she, too, kissed my cheeks warmly and tenderly. She whispered, "I'm so happy for you... telling us what you told us took a lot of courage... I'm so very proud of you."

Her words only intensified my feelings of being okay with who I was, what I was doing, where I was, and where I was going...

As I looked all around the room to each and everybody, I saw only support, love, care, and encouragement. David lifted up his glass, clanked it with his fork to get everybody's attention. "Here's to Adam and Jesus... here here!"

In unison, everybody raised their glasses, and then took a swig of their drink of choice... I said to Jesus, "We're supposed to do that, too." So we did. And then, he lowered his hand into my lap... he was so close... yet he maintained just enough distance to be respectful in front of everyone... though he was considerate... just from the close contact with him... you guessed it... thankfully I was wearing a long t-shirt that Dad had given to me to wear.

Dad, still smiling, announced, "Adam, we have one more thing to tell you... yes, we have an appointment with Richard tomorrow afternoon... but in the morning, we have an appointment with Alex at a prosthetic shop... he's going to fit you with something you can use to walk with. The appointment is at 10:30, so don't stay up too late tonight." He then winked.

And I wished there was a hole I could fall into and curl up in... My face heated up… I was afraid I was going to spontaneously combust. I looked to Jesus for comfort... he was smiling... what Dad had said had gone completely over his head... his eyes were boring holes deep into my soul…

I said, "Okay... but I can't pay for it... can you give me some chores to do so that I can earn it?"

I looked to David... he simply rolled his eyes up into his head, smirked, and then looked to Peter. Peter said, "Don't worry about it... you don't have to earn the ability to walk around here... I'll just say that getting everything down just right took David about 5 minutes... you'll be fine."

David said, "Yeah, I'll help ya. Having strong thigh muscles is the key thing... all the rest is gravy... please hand me the gravy, Jeremy."

That was all that was said... everybody went back to eating just like before the serious conversation opened up. I was suddenly famished, despite having already eaten a plateful... seconds were had, and then Grandma brought out her infamous apple and cherry strudel for dessert.

That evening, after some playtime in the pool, Jesus and I excused ourselves, went to my room, opened the French doors to allow fresh air to waft in, and then... well, we made a pretty short but intense evening out of 'it'.


Dad woke us up quite early, 8:30am to be exact... he announced that we had an appointment to keep, and that I needed to get out of bed, take a shower, get dressed, etc., then he closed the door, smiling.

Watching my dude sleep beside me, I felt a streak of orneriness come on... I reached onto the bedstead, retrieved the bottle of joy juice, as we'd gone to calling it... my little man woke up at the exact point of when my finger... okay... well... you already know... what happened from there on out.


Arriving at the shop at exactly 10:30am, via a huge Humvee limo, I noticed a Harley sitting in the parking lot, right in front of the doors leading in... I quickly surveyed it, looking carefully at each detail... it was a 1983 HD, all decked out in fine dress to be entirely proud of.

We entered the building... immediately I went and sat down... in a way, I really didn't want to be there... but, then again, I did.

A man was sitting in a chair opposite me. He looked up, smiled, laid the magazine in his hand down on the table. There was nobody else in the office – just him, Dad and me. I wondered who the motorcycle it belonged to... perhaps it belonged to the guy named Alex, the prosthetist...?

Without a second thought, I reached across the coffee table, retrieved the magazine the guy, the only other person in the waiting room, had just laid down... and began rifling through it with keen interest... motorcycles had always been a love of mine... I had long hoped to someday own one, ride it, and eventually go cross country when I was old enough.

And then I saw it.

A picture.

Of a Harley-Davidson.

Exactly like the one sitting in front of the doors to the shop.

I then recognized the person standing beside it. The theme of the story was about a motorcycle gathering that had occurred in 1984.

Once again, I looked at the man and then back to the picture.

The man said, "That's me... way back in my younger years... I was 19 at the time... just out of diapers. Oh, by the way, my name's Sam."

"Adam. Pleased to meet you, sir. Uhm, where were you when this picture was taken?" I asked, curiously, intensely interested.

"We'd ridden to Sturgis for a rally. It was a charity ride to raise money for leukemia research and treatment. One of our riders had succumbed to the disease some months before that picture was taken." He turned to Dad, and said, "You look familiar... weren't you in here about a year, or so, ago... with another young man?"

Dad replied, fondly, "Yes, that was my son David. This is Adam... he's soon coming into our family, in fact, he already lives with us."

"How's David doing? I kind of wondered about him... he was kind of angry... I think he was just scared. Heck, I was scared, too. I was much older than these boys when I got my first one – I didn't know what was going to happen... and I was pretty much feeling sorry for myself. Oh woe is me."

"So what did you do?" I asked solemnly. I seriously felt that same way... I'd grown accustomed to the crutches. I had had no plans to do anything differently.

"I wanted to ride. It's impossible with one leg. Plus I had to deal with my fear of getting on a ride again... I just about gave up..."

"So... what did you do?" I repeated, needing to know.

"I wanted to ride more than I wanted to sit in some damn wheelchair for the rest of my life... so I came in here... and got me a leg... and I started my life over again... I have to tell ya, Son, that, at first, it was a royal bitch trying to shift gears with that leg, but I learned how. I don't regret it for one moment. Today, I'm in here for an overhauling… Alex tells me there is this latest and greatest model… who knows, maybe I'll be a movie star someday…" Sam said, smiling, cracking me up all over the place.

"Uhm, is that your ride in the parking lot?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"That it is. If you'll look carefully, you'll see that that bike is the same one in the picture. I fixed my ride... it wasn't damaged all that much so it was pretty easy to get back on the road... <chuckling>... I didn't ride it for about 8 months... I tell ya, it was harder for me to get up the guts to fire it up for the first time, and it took me another month or two until I actually got on it, and then it took another month to actually put it in gear and take it out of the garage for a ride. I've not been off of it since then."

I looked at Dad. He shrugged his shoulders, which left the ball in my court. What was I going to do? Was I going to live my life in my comfort zone, even tthough I wasn't all that comfortable? I'd looked at people walking normally, and I'd seen people riding motorcycles all my life. In fact, asshole at the group home rode a cheap-ass rice-burner. He thought he was some kind of high-shit at pulling wheelies in the parking lot... I then laughed out loud at remembering how he, while showing off, ran into a light pole, throwing him to the ground... he didn't like 17 boys from ages 6 to 17 laughing at him. He made our life pure hell for a month or two after the mishap.

Just then a man and a little girl of maybe 6 years old exited the hallway, entering the waiting room. A woman, probably the girl's mother (they looked so much alike), followed behind them.

What really caught my attention was the fact that the little girl was wearing shorts – and two prosthetic legs. Not one – but – two. Both of her natural legs were absent. Eagerly, she walked to Sam, climbed up on his lap, and told him all about her new legs, and how she could walk.

Utterly amazed, I looked at Dad. His eyes were filling with unshed tears. I have to admit that I, too, choked up a bit, not too much, though. The woman called her daughter, and then they took off.

Before they left, she walked to me, held up her hand, and then when I raised up mine.. she gave me a high five and a smile to die for. And then she and her mother exited... leaving me with a total sense of awe... if she could do it... so could I. And I would, too.

Sam said the girl's name was Amy, and that she'd been born without legs past her thighs, and how she'd been fitted with a little flat cart with wheels on it before getting her prosthetics. Alex had procured funding from a charitable organization to pay for her prosthetics, in full.

Alex, I soon learned was the owner of the shop. He called Sam's name, but Sam said for me to go first, that he wasn't in any hurry, and that he wanted to show me something before Dad and I left.

With that, Alex led us down a long corridor to a room at the end.

When we were seated, he entered some stuff into a computer, then turned to me and asked, "So, what do you want to do, Adam?"

I puffed out my chest, all the while remembering the little girl, and Sam, "I want to walk."

"How bad do you want to walk?" Sam asked, intently.

"I want to walk."

He told me to take off my jeans and shoe. I did so, without hesitation.

He then took a bunch of measurements, paying particular attention to the stump hanging off my hips, butt, and waist. Normally, before, I would have been mortified – he took pictures from all angles, reassuring me, all the while, that the evaluation had to be comprehensive so that we knew the before and after states.

He entered those numbers and uploaded the pictures into the computer. He pressed some buttons... then, based on my sizes and whathaveyou, several prosthetic devices displayed on the screen. He turned to me, "Pick one. Any of these will fit you... as you can see, you have many, many options available."

I looked to Dad, questioning which one I should choose. There were so many, and I was conscious of the prices... although I didn't know exactly 'how much' because the prices didn't show on the screen below the pictures... I just knew they had to cost a lot of money.

Dad undeterred, seeing my concern, said, "Pick any one of them... there's plenty of money available to purchase any one or two of them... the important thing is to get you up and around... on your own... so that you can feel normal... Adam, I've been through this with David... his life changed so much... and he had the same concerns as do you... just roll with it."

I looked to the screen, and then pointed to the one in the bottom left corner. I turned to Alex... I pointed out the one on the bottom left side of the screen... it was a simple apparatus that I thought I might be able to wear and use.

Alex said, "Don't worry, Adam... that's just the frame of a really nice model. We'll use the measurements and pictures to craft a prosthetic that's customized for just you. Is this the one you want?"

Once again, I looked to Dad. He nodded, then turned to Alex, and said, "Order it, Alex." To me he said, "That one's just like David ordered for his first one."

I'd seen it in his closet... I'd noticed the skin tones were very similar, and that it even had hairs that I guessed matched him at the time...

There was no way they would spend that much money on me… but then something drew me back… my thinking changed… my vision changed… for a very brief second, maybe two, I saw, or thought I saw Jesus' smiling face looking at me… and he was sticking his tongue out. And then, my penis twitched… I was already having some difficulties…

Alex touched the screen with purpose, and then entered some information... some codes or something that I didn't understand.

Alex, while I was looking for a price, instructed me to get dressed, that he had but a couple of things left to enter before the order was officially placed.

Knowing that I wasn't going to get to see what the price tag was, I got up on the gurney, grabbed my jeans, started to pull them on... I lost my balance... Dad caught me before I could fall. Alex said amusingly, "I'll teach you how to fall so that you don't hurt yourself. We're not perfect, you know."

With that said, he raised up the hem of his dress slacks. He then knocked on the leg, clearly showing me that it was a prosthetic... and it was much like the one he'd showed me for me.

At the same time, I looked up, and saw a cost showing on the screen. My heart dropped. The price was listed as $31,275.00.

Old thoughts took over... I wasn't worth THAT. There was NO WAY I was going to let him pay THAT MUCH... not for a fucking leg.

Quickly, I jerked on my pants, zipped them up, snapped the snap, and then sat up on the edge of the bed.

Dad said, strongly, "Stop it, Adam. Don't even go there. Alex, order it. Adam, this is the beginning point. You've got to go forward in this life or you're going to get trampled."

"That's too much money, sir." I said, apologetically, resigned to the fact that I didn't want him to pay 'that much'.

But he countered in such a way that the conversation was finished, "Alex, order the prosthetic. Get the boy mobile. Adam, this is final. As your Dad, I make tough decisions, hopefully they are right... because this one will affect not only now, but it will follow you throughout your life. There's nothing more to discuss about this topic."

Alex regarded our interactions, with amusement. He said, "Your Dad's right on the money, young man. I was about your age when I got my first one... let me tell you what... it was the best thing I could have ever done, and yes, my Dad gave me a hard time... he was right, though. Now, I have two of these in stock... I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere. Oh... okay... go ahead and take off your pants... leave your underwear on... you'll soon see why... I'll be right back."

With that, Alex was off to the storeroom.

I got my pants off, then grabbed a sheet to cover up that which designates me male... as "he" was letting me know of its presence by standing up at attention. Dad smirked.

"Well... I can't help it..." I stuttered and stumbled, innocently (ha haa).

Alex returned carrying a 'model'... it looked real, actually... I couldn't believe it. I couldn't stop the grin that I felt from deep within... at that moment, I knew that I had to go through with it. I mean – fuck!

He wrapped my stump with soft cotton material and padding. Next, he laid the prosthesis on the gurney, and then fit it on over my stump. He said, "This one has straps that go around your waist. Two more go on your stump and attach to a fastening in back... these provide some stability until you learn how to use it."

With that, he removed the sheet... I was going to get Jesus... that was weird... was he causing my 'little problem', or what? I heard him snickering way back in the background of my mind...

If he saw my predicament, he didn't say anything. Instead, he worked professionally and efficiently, and despite my little issue, I was soon cinched up.

He said, "Jim, why don't you stand on one side of Adam… we're ready to get him up… I'll support your other side, Adam. Just do it slow and steady. It's going to be a little shorter than your other leg… that's okay… your prosthetic will fit perfectly."

I was afraid… when I put my left leg down... the sensation in the stump was something totally brand new… and yes, it was short, but not too much... maybe an inch, or so. But it was enough to make me feel all wobbly.

They both said I did great, though I didn't think so… some of the negative thinking once again nearly took control, but once again… a smiling face of the one I loved became apparent in the forefront of my mind.

Just before leaving the shop, Alex said that the order would arrive by Thursday morning. We made an appointment for fitting, and hopefully, placement. He told me not to worry.

On our way out, I stopped in at the restroom, drained the can, which was difficult because of the 'little problem' that was still present. Once I closed the door, flipped the lock into place, undid the zipper and snap, pulled down the front of my underwear, stuck it toward the toilet, pushed it down … and then it happened...

Whew... holy cow! I didn't know a dude could hold that much inside of himself...

Sam wasn't in the waiting room. Instead, he was outside leaning against his bike, talking on his cell phone.

When Dad pulled out his wallet and handed a credit card to Alex, I made my way outside. I didn't want to see them make the transaction. Even though I was in the 'system', I still didn't want to see them exchange money.

Sam looked up, smiled then motioned for me to come to him. He said some "Love you's" into the phone then terminated the call, put the device into his pocket, placed his hand on my shoulder, and then showed me the intricacies of the fine ride. It was way kewl. He then showed me a modified foot pedal like thing that permitted him to easily change gears.

"Wanna get on her?" Sam said intently, smiling.

Fuck yeah I wanted to get on her!

With his help to boost me onto her, I sat checking out all the controls, and 'felt' the mighty power of the machine, without it even being in motion, or running. He then handed me the keys... holy shit!

Don't tell me twice.

I inserted the key into the ignition, squeezed the handlebar grip firmly toward the steel, and then fired her up. She died twice, but then Sam showed me that I needed to give it some gas... holy crap – she fired up with a roar. I pumped the gas a couple of times just to hear its thunder, and then let off so that she would just idle.

Sam said, "Why don't we ask your Dad to permit me to take you for a spin around the block..."

"Really? Me? Holy shit!" I stumbled and sputtered, excited beyond belief.

Just then Dad exited the building, saw me sitting on the ride, and then about shit his pants when I roared the bike to life by giving it a bit of gas.

Dad hesitated for a moment, until I said, "Please... we won't be gone long... like Sam said."

He surveyed Sam one more time before nodding, and saying, "Do everything he says. I can't believe I'm giving you permission... your Mom will have a hemorrhage... okay, go ahead. Lord."

Sam retrieved two helmets, one for him, one for me. It fit my head perfectly.

Dad, with a second thought, said to Sam, "He doesn't know how to ride..."

Sam replied, "Not to worry. My husband doesn't know how to ride, either. Are you ready to go, young man?"

"You have a husband?" I asked, incredulously.

"That I do... is it a problem?"

"Oh, no, sir. I have gay all around me... they're happy and everything..." I looked at Dad, wondering... if I should share my truth with a stranger... the look on his face was non-committal... the ball was entirely in my court... with a coy smile, feeling strength coming from within, knowing I had a safety net, I added, "Me too. I'm gay... you're the first person to know... outside of my family, I mean."

"Well Son, I'm proud of you... Are you ready to go...?" When I scooted back, he mounted, revved the engine up to a couple of grand, causing reverberations to sound throughout the block, surely. I put my arms around his waist, snuggled in, and said, "Okay... I'm ready." To Dad, I yelled hella loud over the powerful engine, "Thank you!"

He nodded.

With that, Sam roared the bike to life, and off we went. The first place we took off to was the -freeway-. He opened it up to highway speeds, and a little beyond that, I was sure. The combined effects of wind blowing through my helmet, up my legs, and through my shirt, the vibrations from the very heavily muscled bike reverberating throughout my entire body... well, the experience was a total, complete and absolute fucking total blast. I mean it! If I wouldn't have just creamed... I would have on that ride.

Soon, too soon, he took an exit ramp, returned to the shop via city streets, and then both he and Dad helped me dismount. To Dad, I exclaimed, "Holy shit! What a rush!"

I was a bit wobbly, but soon regained equilibrium enough to stand on my own.

Sam dismounted, set the kickstand, ruffled my hair and followed Alex into the shop after reassuring me that we'd soon meet again.

Our next appointment was the CPS office. At first, as soon as I saw the sign, I tensed up, wondering if maybe I'd be dropped off and left there, but then remembered that they'd asked me if I wanted to become a member of their family... I relaxed, realizing my fears were unfounded.

Ella was a kewl person, one of the best I'd ever seen or had dealings with. Most of the previous visits, to other caseworkers, were all sterile, starched, and was where the adults talked about this and that, never asking me once asking me what I thought or felt about whatever was going on.

Dad looked at me. Smiling, he said, "You have something to tell Ella; don't worry, she's not going to bite... we've done this before..."

I smiled, and the smile felt like it came from deep inside, "Jim and Peggy, well, they asked me to join their family... I said yes. I want to join their family. And, I'm getting a leg. Hopefully I can walk, soon. And, oh yeah, I got to ride a motorcycle today! It was a total blast!"

Ella's eyes narrowed to slits. She looked to Jim with a hard look on her face, and in her eyes. Immediately, I got scared shitless... like I'd fucked up... just like I'd fucked up before...

"He rode a motorcycle?" Ella hissed between clenched teeth.

Dad, quick to respond, said, "He didn't actually DRIVE a motorcycle... he rode with an experienced driver, and yes, he wore a helmet. Come on, Ella, I'd never put him in danger... you know that."

Ella relaxed, noticeably. Still, she was upset. I could tell that she was tense, and not at all convinced that I'd not been put into mortal danger. Hell, it had been a blast! At no time did I feel afraid.

Ella thought for a moment, before saying, "Jim, I don't want Adam on a motorcycle until after the adoption is final. I could lose my job if I knowingly put one of the kids in danger." To me she continued, "Adam, I do not want you on a motorcycle until everything is finalized. I say this for your general welfare... I must insist."

"Why are you so afraid? I don't understand. I didn't feel like I was in danger, at any time. Sam was at the shop for the same reason I was there... he overcame his fear... and he showed me that I could and can, too."

Ella looked down to her desk. She then reached for and retrieved two pictures sitting on her desk, facing her. She said, "This is why..."

She then turned the pictures to face me. One was a guy, who was maybe 16 or 17 years old. The other was a mangled motorcycle, tore up to smithereens. She said cautiously, sadly, "That's my Son, and that's his Dad's motorcycle, or what's left of it. They were both killed riding up the road leading into the mountains... that day, and they were so very close, they were heading up to spend the weekend camping, fishing, climbing, and enjoying life... they never came home. They died instantly."

She turned to Dad, "Have you retained counsel for this proceeding? I'll need paperwork to make this go through..."

"I'm sorry, Ella. I didn't know."

"Now you do. If you'll excuse me, I have a court appointment." To me she said, "Adam, we have some work to do... unfortunately, Massachusetts is holding back on releasing you fully into our care and custody. I'm not sure why they are doing it... they are only saying there are a couple of outstanding warrants. I'm working on getting to the bottom of it. We'll get past it, but it's just going to take some time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go."


On the way to the limo, Dad asked, conversationally, "Do you know what's going on back in Mass?"

"Uhm... maybe..." I replied, hesitatingly. I didn't really want him to know 'everything' about me, what I had to do to... you know... to survive.

"Maybe?" He asked for clarification, patting my back as we walked along the sidewalk skirting a courthouse appearing building.

I stopped to take a rest. Sometimes when I was really walking fast on the crutches, my arm pits felt like they were being rubbed raw. Sometimes, my fingers tingled. Somebody, not a doctor, one day, told me that I was likely rubbing some nerves, that I should walk with them only slightly brushing the pits, and to not rest my weight on them.

When I didn't immediately answer, I didn't know what to say, or how to answer his question. Dad didn't say anything, instead he patiently waited.

I drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and said, "Uhm, well, I was a street whore, but I didn't have sex... well, I mean, no, I didn't have sex... what my friend Larry and I did was to hook up with a trick, and then steal their money and run. Most of the time we got by with it... I guess there are a couple of things that went wrong... can it wait until we get in the car?"

"Yes, of course it can. Are you ready, or do you need to rest some more? I can have the driver come to us..."

"No... that's okay. I'm ready now."

We walked to the crosswalk, waited for the light to change so that we could safely make passage to the other side of the street. On the corner I noticed an ice cream shop. Dad smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and then pulled out his phone, made a quick call, hung up, patted my back, and then led us to the Ice Cream Palace, a novelty shop serving exotic frozen treats.

I ordered double rocky road. Jim ordered a banana split with double pineapple instead of strawberries.

Dad carried the containers to a table at the far back side of the store... We were the only customers. Dad looked at me inquisitively, obviously waiting for me to continue where I'd left off.

I looked into his eyes, looking for some indication that he was angry. I saw none. I did see that he was interested in what I had to say. "No pressure." Dad eventually said when I remained quiet.

"I swear... most of the time all we had to do was undress.. you know... our shirts... and pants... and sometimes, when the john really insisted... I took off my underwear... but just for a minute until he started to, you know, I mean... we didn't have sex... sometimes I was hard, sometimes not... we played hard, Dad. Sometimes Larry would jack off in front of the dude... sometimes I'd rub mine... sheesh, this is hard, Dad."

Dad didn't say anything, instead he was listening to me... like nobody else had done in my old life. Assured and reassured, I continued, "Uhm... sometimes the john wanted to touch us... I wouldn't let them touch my privates... Larry helped me out there by offering himself... and well, here's where it gets tricky... when the john would go into the bathroom... we'd hurry up and get dressed, then we'd snatch his wallet, and run like hell.

The last one... he was weird... he wouldn't get undressed... we just stood there waiting for the other to act first... finally, Larry began rubbing the front of his pants, or shorts, whatever... he got hard... and well, that was when we got busted. The guy was a vice cop... anyway... we booked it... I can't believe we got away... when you're scared..."

Dad nodded.

"Well, okay, I did it two more times, no, three times... I had no money, and no way to get any. I was cold, Dad. It was fall and everything..."

He nodded again, put his hand on mine... thus reassuring me to continue.

"We made a deal... twenty five bucks to 'see'. Fifty for me to... uhm... jack off... and, well, a hundred to go from there... whatever we decided at the time... we went to a seedy motel... I was, well, I was... anyway, I was in the mood to play... he was a good looking guy... I mean, well you know... I undressed... everything, I mean... you know... I laid on the bed, stroked it a little bit... I was already hard and stuff... it went from okay to bad in a heart beat... I heard the clink as he put his hand on in the back of his hands... I thought he was some kind of freak... until he pulled out his cop card... and a pair of handcuffs. He wasn't a real big guy... somehow, I leaped to him, knocked him to the floor, and then I grabbed my pants and ran out the door with him chasing me. The elevator was open... nobody was on it... I just barely got the button pushed... and well, the door closed... quickly, I got dressed on the way down, and was snapping them up when the door opened..."

"When I got outside, there were cops all over the damn place. I ran for it, hid out for a couple of days without eating or anything. I lived in a dumpster, I tried to garbage but couldn't make myself... I was too afraid to leave … it was my bathroom, too. That was gross."

Dad started to say something, but I needed to continue... I needed to get it all out... "Uhm, I'm not finished... anyway, I got where I had to eat... and drink, too... so I took a chance... I headed to a convenience store that I knew had no security cameras and all that stuff... I'd been there before, both with and without money... you know... anyway, I walk in, and there was Arnie. Arnie was a guy who had lived in the group home, too, but he had escaped, like me. I saw that he was loaded... you know, his pant pockets were filled... he left... so I loaded up... and then ran (I pointed to my crutches to emphasize just how 'fast' I could run) when a cop came in. Anyway, I got busted big time... but, you see, I'd escaped custody before... and I did it again... here I am... you know the rest..."

"It sounds as if you were doing what you needed to do, Adam. I don't condone what you did, but I have a bigger problem with men taking you to a hotel room assuming that they can have sex with you. On the other hand, two wrongs don't make a right... but I understand your thinking."

"Dad, I have one more thing... I went back to the home... I was desperate... it was freezing cold... I had no choices left."

"So what happened next?"

"Asshole greeted me in... uhm... well, I agreed to his terms. I didn't want to go to juvenile... not in the city of Boston, anyway. That's a bad place to be... and well, since I was homeless, and there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd get picked out of the lineup... I agreed to him doing anything he wanted... I was freezing... anyway, he let me in. I went to my old room... he said I could stay there again... it had 3 guys in it... and well... they were busy... so I left... I got into the shower... it felt good, really good... I was so damn cold..."

Dad patted my hand, then he took hold of it, and passed strength into me... I felt it flow... right to my heart. I continued, "My clothes were filth... I'd finally felt clean... the guys in my old room were finished by the time I got back there... they made all kinds of comments about my... uhm, my leg, and well they made some serious fun about my thing, too. Anyway, asshole came looking for me... I was supposed to meet him in his room... he grabbed my hair... but it was wet so I slipped away from his hold... I wasn't in the mood to fight him... so, naked, I went to his room... he followed me in, closed the door... and well, to make a long story short... he got undressed, pushed me onto the bed, made me lift up my legs... if I would have had a knife... I decided he wasn't going to do it to me... not like he'd done to the other kids... so I let him get in position, and then just as he was right above my back door... I kicked the living shit out of him. He went down. I grabbed his pants and shirt and tore out of there as fast as I could go... the only thing that saved my ass was when he fell down the stairs... it dazed him... somebody threw me my clothes... I put them on while asshole was figuring out where he was and what the fuck happened. I never looked back. I can think of 3 things that may be holding me up... but I doubt that asshole filed a report, if you know what I mean."

"So what did you do next? It's cold..."

"I went to a youth ministry outreach thing... they let me stay there for about 4 months... but then they changed the rules... you had to be sponsored by an adult... and well, that's when those idiots took me in for the welfare money, and then they ran after he got into some trouble with the law. I don't know what he did... but we ended up here in Hawaii. Like I said, you know the rest. Ella seems nice, though, although she was pissed today. I didn't mean to..."

"No, she wasn't pissed. She was scared. Bad memories came back to her. Her ex-husband and son were killed right about the time when Jeremy came to live with us on a permanent basis."

"He's adopted?" I asked...

"Yes. He was a little one. David was our natural born child. I'm telling you that Angel, Allen, Andy, Peter and Matt... Well, they are just like my real born children... while I didn't father them in the conventional way, I am their Daddy. I'm proud of each and every one of my sons. I don't think you did anything inherently wrong.... though I stealing is not the right way to go... at the same time, I know there are situations and circumstances that require theft in order to survive. Talk to Andy, Matt and Peter, and I mean really talk to them... do some heart talk, okay?"

"You mean you don't hate me for tricking...?"

"Nope. Even if you would have been required to have sex, I'd still love you... I'm glad you didn't have to do it, really I am... You got lucky, you know... any one of those men could have … really harmed you. Will you, can you give me the name of the group home 'asshole' as you call him? I'm going to do some checking up... he's a piece of scum."

"That's no problem... his name is Harley Jenson, James, something like that..."

Dad's face went ghost white. He swallowed hard. With a lump of coal clearly in his voice, he said, "Could it be Jamison?"

"Yeah... that's it. Mostly, we called him Asshole, even to his fat fucking face."

Dad gathered his wits back about him... I had no idea why he was so upset... I only knew that he WAS upset.

"Adam, what I am about to tell you will likely upset you... just trust me... this is very important... normally, I do not tell my sons' stories for them... just to confirm... would you describe that man?"

"You mean – other than being an asshole?"

Jim noticeably relaxed. He said, "If we are talking about the same man... then asshole is giving him a lot of credit. Was there anything you noticed about him that stands out?"

He waited for me to say something, anything. The look on his face was intense... I could see a lot of emotions welling up inside him... yet he remained calm, at least on the outside. He put his hand on my shoulder, squeezed lightly, and then added, "Son, I understand you're scared… you had a reason to be frightened, but not now… this is a new life for you. You'll never have to go back there… unless you choose to. And even if you chose to … you'd have an army on your butt… they would likely, if I know my boys, and I do, so I can say with all probability that they will hog tie you to the pool house door to keep you here with us."

I took in a deep breath… "He always has a stinking cigar sticking out of his mouth. He was a fucking slob. Black hair. Steel gray eyes. Bushy eyebrows. Zits... he must have had them bad... his face looked like a fucking dart board."

"Was there anything else about him that would stand out?"

"Uhm... well, he had a fat old ugly… uhm… dick... his gives the word ugly a whole new meaning... not even I'm that..." I said, and then stopped myself before I said the word that I was finding was not true… Jesus loves me just the way I am.

Dad contemplated for a moment before raising his eyes to look deep into my soul. The energy passing through us was totally powerful… even Dad blinked, obviously surprised. "Adam, Son, the man you are describing is in prison for the rest of his natural life. Andy, Matt and Peter have had dealings with him... he's their uncle, or was. Do you know anything else out of the ordinary about him or the other asshole? Again, getting all the information is so very important."

"Yeah, they were always taking pictures of us... they always had a fucking camera... usually it was only their cell phones... but if we went on a picnic... yeah, we went on them once in a while... they took regular cameras... you know... the digital ones. They were hella expensive looking."

"I have to ask you this, Adam... I don't want to... but I need to... <I nodded>. Do you know if they took pictures of you and the other boys while you were taking showers, or when you were having private moments... like going the bathroom... or taking care of your male needs?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"I just needed to ask you that question. I have my reasons. Like I said, we are very familiar with him... he gave... Peter, Matt and Andy more than an uncle should have given..."

"You're shitting me. No way."

He looked at me in a way that I just knew he wasn't kidding around. I continued by asking, "Did he do sex things? You know... uhm... he didn't do that to them, did he?"

"I'm afraid so, Adam. It took a very long time for them to get over it... and they aren't exactly there, yet, but they're working hard to get all the way past it... some of it, I'm sure, will follow them around for the rest of their lives."

"I didn't know... I'm sorry... if I said or did anything that might have ..."

"Adam, I'm just so very glad that you weren't hurt... any worse than you were... talk to them... I'm sure they will tell you... every time they tell their stories... they seem to get a little bit better. Is there anything else you need to tell me, right now...?"

"No. I've told you the truth... I swear."

"I know, Son. I know."

With that confirmed, he pulled out his cell phone, made a call, saying, "We're ready." Then he clicked the phone silent.

Amazed, I asked, "You didn't tell them where we are..."

Dad smiled, "They already know."

We got up, walked out, went to the curb... within seconds a long stretch limo arrived. A man exited the vehicle, walked around, opened the rear passenger door, stood at attention, and then waited expectantly.

At the same time, I noticed another vehicle pull up behind the limo. The man exiting the black cop car (I knew what to look for), was none other than Fugi. Man, he follows us around...

Dad asked me to wait for him in the limo, and said that he needed to talk with Fugi for a few minutes... before we parted, he said, "Adam, I'm going to have Fugi look into the situation at the group home... it's not right for those kids to be there... you have a new life... now it's their turn."

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead