Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Window Washer - 8. Epilogue 1
It was 2 am, the night of our wedding. The last of our guests had departed. Rob and I were exhausted, yet buzzing with excitement. We tidied the apartment superficially and decided to leave the rest of the cleanup until the next day.
We barely had the energy to brush our teeth and jump into bed.
We lay on our sides, face to face, bodies pressed tight, legs scissored. We were looking into each other’s eyes, smiling. There was no need for words, Rob’s face mirrored my happiness; we were content.
For better, or for worse. We knew we’d make it in the long run. The metal of our relationship had been tempered by adversity, and was now stronger than ever.
I watched Rob’s happy eyes become heavy with sleep. Mine soon followed and somehow we drifted off entwined.
I woke up in the morning with Rob spooned into my back and his arm across my chest. In my half awake haze I felt like a chrysalis in a cocoon. I shuffled a little to push back against him—to feel even warmer. He responded by tightening his arm, pulling me closer and kissing my neck. He was still asleep so I let myself drift off again, savouring the warmth. Sometime later I woke, still spooned, to a series of kisses on my neck and ear. And there was something very hard pressing against my glutes! My mind and body responded in a heartbeat and my dick shot to attention. I took Rob’s hand and placed it there.
“Oooh, I like that,” he said, and his fingers played lightly against the sensitive underside, making me twitch with pleasure. Then I rolled over and reassumed the position in which we had fallen asleep.
“Good morning, husband,” I said.
“I love you,” he said.
Our lips came together for an amazing marathon kiss. And there was no danger of falling back to sleep after that.
We bed wrestled, frotting our cocks at every twist and turn. Finally, I was above, straddling him. I took both our poles in my hand and began stoking. Feeling our balls pressed together made me even hornier. My eyes never left Rob’s and I watched his excitement grow. When I knew he was at the point of no return I increased the speed of my strokes. His eyelids fluttered, his body stiffened, and he cried out, “Oh God!” and he began spurting.
That was all I needed to push me over the edge and I let go a huge load that mingled with Rob’s, forming a lake in the hollow between his stomach and chest.
I collapsed on top of him, enjoying our sticky bond. And then we made those little after-lovemaking kisses that are so full of contentment and love.
We could have stayed like that forever, but nature asserted itself and we both needed to pee in the worst way.
“You take the ensuite and I’ll take the other bathroom,” I said. “Then we’ll meet back here.”
Rob called to me from the ensuite to come and have a shower with him. So in I went, and we enjoyed soaping and washing each other. His junk is my favourite toy, and his wet, soapy balls amuse me to no end. We were satiated from our recent session, but both of us had worked up semis from the stroking. I pointed this fact out.
“Later, Big Guy,” Rob said.
“Ten minutes?” I said.
He smiled indulgently and kissed me, shaking his head a little at my pathetic humour.
We hadn’t planned a honeymoon but Rob had the next four days off. It was enough just to hang out together. To relax and have fun.
The mess in our apartment could wait a little longer, and we decided shopping and lunch would be in order. So we walked over to Robson Street and browsed in stores. I bought a shirt and Rob bought a pair of pants. Then we went to Gino’s for lunch. We sat at the same table where I first told Jennifer about Rob. Which reminded us of Jennifer’s threat to break Rob’s other arm and leg.... And we were again overcome by fits of laughter.
Once home, we decided that our walk and lunch had tired us, so a nap was in order. One thing led to another..... It was our honeymoon, after all.
The four days passed in an easy, relaxing pace. One day we prepared a picnic and took Colibri to the picturesque little hamlet of Snug Cove on Bowen Island for lunch. Another day we drove across the Lions Gate Bridge to Grouse Mountain. We took the tram to the top for a lunch in the restaurant overlooking the city far below.
Getting married was a huge aphrodisiac. When Rob went back to work my dick was sore from all the sucking, fucking, jerking and frotting that we’d done. Those next few days gave me a chance to ‘heal’ before he came home again and we started round two of the honeymoon.
Three months later....
I was at home eagerly waiting Rob’s return from a four day work trip. As I listened impatiently for the sound of his key in the door, I stood at the window, staring at the mountains across the harbour, and thought about what we accomplished since getting married three months ago.
Our little bungalow in Venice Beach was almost ready for us. Rob’s parents, who owned a flooring business, had given us new flooring and outside decking as a wedding present. They even sent their designer to help us. We chose bamboo floors with throw rugs for the interior, and slate decking for the back terrace.
I was determined to have a swimming pool in our small back yard, and that turned out to be a challenge. There was no way to get equipment in for the job, so the hole was dug by five burly guys, and the contractor had to lift the fibreglass pool liner over the house with a crane. But it all came together beautifully and we were pleased.
We’d bought furniture for all the rooms, except the second bedroom, which we hoped would soon become a nursery.
We still needed to buy a car for Venice Beach. We wanted a small SUV that would serve dual purpose as a baby transporter and a supply carrier for Colibri. Because it would be parked on the street we wanted something used and not luxurious so we wouldn’t be devastated if it was stolen or vandalized. I was putting off the purchase because I hated dealing with used car salesmen. I have a phobia about getting ripped off.
One day when Rob was away my phone rang, and I was surprised to see it was a call from his dad. After an initial greeting, Al explained that he had tried to contact Rob but kept getting voicemail. He wanted us to know that he had found the ‘perfect’ car for us--a mildly used Jeep Grand Cherokee. Al always used the same car dealer for his business and family vehicles (including the Porsche) so this guy owed him a favour. Al had mentioned what we were looking for, and the dealer found us a very good deal.
The deal sounded awfully good to me and it would take all the stress and worry of shopping for a car off our shoulders. I thanked Al and told him I would discuss it with Rob when he landed in Hawaii in a few hours.
I sent Rob a text with the gist of the conversation and asked him to call me to discuss the situation.
Once Rob was released from the flight he called me, and expressed his reluctance to take his father up on the offer. As I well knew, Rob was loath to accept help from his parents.
“What do you think?” he asked me.
“I think your parents love you,” I said.
He was silent for a few beats then he said, “I’m being irrational, aren’t I?”
“I respect you feelings, Rob. It’s your call. You have my one hundred percent support. I love you.”
Another pause, this one longer.
“Oh God!” he said.
“What?”
“Do you remember what I told you I wanted to do with the settlement from my accident?”
“Yes....”
“I said we could use it for the surrogacy fees and there would be enough left over to put into a college fund for our child,” he said.
“Yes....” I knew where this was going, but Rob needed to say it. To put his thoughts into words.
“I wouldn’t accept a cent from my parents when I went to college. I worked to pay my tuition fees. I wanted to be independent. And what do I do? I assume my child, our child, will need our support when he goes to college? I want to help our child, but refuse any help from my parents!”
“Yes....”
“Stop saying ‘yes’ Jerome, you know exactly what I’m saying! I’m being irrational.”
“I understand perfectly, Rob,” I said. “But bottom line is that I love you, quirks and all. I mean, God knows, I’m not perfect. You know I get completely irrational when I think something isn’t ‘fair.’ So, what should we do?”
“Do you think it’s a good deal?” he asked.
“I think it’s a very good deal,” I said.
“So it’s okay if I say ‘yes’ to dad?”
“Yes, perfectly fine by me,” I said, relieved about not having to shop for a car.
“I’ll phone him and give him our answer, then,” he said. “And, Jerome, I love you too. You’re the best. I miss you. I’ll miss you in bed tonight.”
With the car worry out of the way we concentrated our efforts on becoming parents. After researching all the options for surrogacy we decided to use the Centre for Surrogacy in Northridge, which was the agency used by well known celebrities for their babies. We’d been through a battery of psychological assessments and filled in questionnaires endlessly. It was a complex and expensive process but the end results would be worth it. We weren’t far from choosing the egg donor, and the surrogate mother. After that it would be a simple matter of dropping off our special sperm donation and letting the medical technicians do their job.
Back to Rob’s arrival home...
I missed him terribly when he was away on work trips, but the honeymoons when he came home were always fun. Generally, he arrived home happy, but his mood could vary. Sometimes he was tired from the trip and quiet; sometimes he was animated and eager to tell me about an interesting passenger or crew member. I was wondering which it would be when he walked through the door this time.
I heard his key in the lock and quickly made my way to the door to welcome him. As usual, the moment he stepped thought the door I grabbed him in a bear hug and his body melted into mine. I felt him relax and knew he was happy and relieved to be home again. We shared a great kiss, and I was just beginning to think he’d drag me into the bedroom and have his way with me, as sometimes happened. But instead he pulled away, “Jerome, I’ve got news!”
“What?” I asked.
“Ken just called me and told me he and Lauren are getting married!”
“That’s fantastic!”
“Yes, but there’s more,” he said looking at me and raising his eyebrows.
“Oh?”
“Lauren is pregnant!”
“Wow,” I said, “That is big news. I’m really happy for them. Do your parents know?”
“Yes, they know, and Ken said that they are over-the-moon happy.”
“When is the baby due?” I asked, “And have they set a date for their wedding?”
“Ken said Lauren is about ten weeks along, and I think they are getting married within the month. Ken was pretty excited, but he didn’t give me a lot of details other than that.”
At that news we were both a little excited and hyper so I steered Rob into the bedroom and suggested he change out of his uniform and grab a shower if he wanted. He liked the shower idea but suggested I join him, so we got naked and jumped in the shower together. We kissed and rubbed soap over each others’ bodies and kissed some more and rubbed out bodies together. We both got very hard and I suggested we dry off and jump onto bed.
We lay on top of the bed cuddling front-to-front, kissing and enjoying the feel of each other. Rob’s hand drifted to my ass and pulled me toward him which was a clear signal that he wanted me to fuck him. I pushed him gently onto his back then lay on top of him, between his open legs, as we continued our kissing and stroking. Gradually, he pulled his knees up so I sat back on my haunches and reached for the lube. I entered him slowly watching the expression on his face reflecting the pleasure he was feeling. He let out a soft moan, which I echoed. After I was in him to the hilt, I paused to let us both savour the feeling, and then I pulled back and slowly began to fuck him. We continued in this unhurried way until we were both close to the point of no return. Then I increased the speed of my thrusts and soon felt the familiar ecstasy of an imminent explosion.
“I’m going to cum!” I declared.
“Yes! Fuck me hard! Cum in me now!” Rob demanded.
His uncharacteristically dirty talk pushed me right over the edge, and I came like one of those oil gushers you see in the movies. I pushed into him with all I had as my cum muscles spasmed and my cock jerked until I was fully spent. Then I collapsed on top of him, utterly exhausted and satiated.
He kissed my face and rubbed my back and cupped my ass while he let me catch my breath. Then, I pushed myself up, and remained inside of him while I grasped his cock and jerked it. It only took a few strokes then Rob let out a low growl, his body tensed, and he shot a huge load onto his belly and chest. I rubbed my hand in the wetness and stroked his cock gently with his own slimy man juice as his erection slowly subsided. He was sensitive, so his body jerked and he laughed a little at the final sensations, then he put his hand over mine as a signal to stop. He couldn’t take any more. I collapsed onto him again and we lay like that until we both recovered our strength.
“You getting hungry?” I asked.
“A little,” he said.
I suggested a quick second shower to clean ourselves up, so we did that, both of us a little weak-kneed from our exertions.
Rob sat at the kitchen island nursing a beer while I prepared dinner. While I worked we chatted about what we’d done in the few days we hadn’t seen each other. I had gone out in Colibri twice for morning sails then worked on her in the afternoons. Rob told me about his layovers in Portland and Phoenix and about dealing with an uncooperative passenger in an exit row seat. As usual when he talked about work he was animated and enthusiastic. He loved his job.
When dinner was ready I set the table nicely, lit candles and served us both the first course of spinach salad. I sat across from him and we toasted “to us” with our wine glasses and tucked into the salad.
Rob became uncharacteristically quiet. I watched him for a moment. I could see from his serious expression that he was thinking about something.
“A penny for your thoughts,” I said.
I watched Rob working his jaw, trying to get his thoughts straight before he spoke. I wondered if something was wrong, but after our recent love making I couldn’t imagine quite what it might be.
“Jerome.....” he began, then hesitated.
I waited, wondering what was on his mind, with the childish thought that I may be in trouble.
His jaw worked a bit more, then he said, “It’s about who’s the father of our child. I mean, the biological father.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, you remember you suggested we both have a go—I believe the words you used were jerk off into a test tube—then it would be a fifty-fifty chance that either of us would be the biological father?” he asked.
“Yes, I remember,” I said. “Would you prefer to be the biological dad?”
“No,” he replied, “Just the opposite. I think you should be the biological dad.”
I must admit, I was totally bewildered by this conversation. My thoughts were racing, but all I managed to stammer out was, “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Jerome,” he said, “I know this goes against your thinking, and your idea of fairness, but I have a good reason for suggesting this....”
“Rob, I don’t understand,” I said.
“Okay,” he said, “Here’s the deal. My mom and dad have two kids. Your parents only have you. You’re an only child.” And he stopped, as if this was the entire explanation.
I didn’t have a clue what he meant, so I said, “Go on...”
“Well,” he said, “With Lauren being pregnant, my parents are going to have a grandchild. I mean a biological grandchild. Don’t you think your parents would like a biological grandchild?”
Now I understood what he was getting at. It was a noble idea, but I wasn’t sure if I was completely comfortable with it. Part of me wanted Rob’s child, or at least the hope of his child, and I expressed that thought to him.
“I understand, Jerome,” he said. “I feel the same way too, I mean, about the child being yours. Do you remember when we first talked about having a child that I suggested you be the father? For some reason I very much like that idea. I’m suggesting this because I love you and your parents. Please think about it, that’s all I ask.”
“Wow, Rob,” I said, “I’m a little surprised. But I mean in a good way. You are being so selfless and kind. I’m falling even more in love with you than I ever thought possible. Is this what you really want? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Of course, my love,” he said quietly, “It’s really what I want.”
My eyes got watery.
“Would we tell my parents? And your parents?” I asked.
“I think that would be best, Jerome. There’s no use of deception. People will wonder anyway, so why not be up front about it? Our child will have to know at some point anyway, if nothing else for his or her medical history.”
I thought about Rob’s suggestion. About his generosity, and his love. But I felt I need to balance the scales a little, so I said, “I’ll agree to it under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That if we have a second child you’ll be the biodad.”
He smiled and said, “Agreed.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. Letting this new turn of events settle on us.
Then Rob said, “While we are on the topic of your parents, can I mention one more thing?”
“Sure, what’s that?”
“Jerome, I know you love your parents. And they love you. But I sense a distance between you and them. Why is that?”
I thought for a moment and said, “Yes, there is, as you say, a distance. They didn’t handle my coming out very well. And since then our relationship has been strained. It’s a lot better now you’re in the picture though.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Would it be okay with you if we saw more of them? Especially after the baby is born. It would be nice for all of us, I think.”
“I agree, it would be nice. But how can we get the relationship back on track?”
“Talk to them. Communicate. It’s worth a shot, Jerome.”
“Okay, I will. But, Rob, two heavy discussions in a row have left me a bit drained. What I need most, at this moment, is a hug.”
After a long, warm hug we changed the subject to our upcoming migration to Venice Beach.
Timing was a little tricky because as a Canadian citizen I could only spend six months a year in the United States. The penalties for violating the time limit are harsh. I could be banned from the USA for several years for an infraction. Rob, who was a dual USA/Canadian citizen could, of course, live in either country as need be. We were frustrated that the Defense of Marriage Act prohibited my immigration as a spouse. And we were hoping for a favourable ruling from the US Supreme Court on gay rights.
But summer was coming to an end and it would be nice to sail Colibri south and settle into a warm climate for the winter. Besides, it was nearing the time when we needed to be in the USA to participate in the conception, gestation and birth of our child.
Shortly before our departure I flew up to Kelowna, at Rob’s urging, to visit my folks.
After an initial greeting, I sat them in the living room and took a deep breath.
I took them back to the night eight years ago that I had told them I was gay. I told them I had been hurt and angry by their response.
“And you know how I get when I’m like that,” I said.
Dad laughed and said, “Remember that time you didn’t talk to me for six months?”
I laughed and said, “Yes, but you really deserved that! I missed Jennifer’s sixteenth birthday party!”
Then we became serious and opened our hearts to each other.
Finally I said. “Can we put all that behind us now?”
“Jerry, can you forgive us?” mom asked.
“Mom, I want you to know there’s no left-over hard feelings. I love you and so does Rob. We just want you to be part of our lives.”
Mom started crying.
I started crying.
Dad said, “Jesus, you two!”
It felt great to clear the air. I knew they would be completely overwhelmed when we told them about the paternity of their future grandchild. But I was saving that moment for another day.
A week later Colibri was provisioned for the trip from Vancouver to Los Angeles and Rob and I were nearly ready to depart.
Preparing for our migration south had taken a lot of time and energy but foremost on our minds was our application to the Northridge clinic. We were eager to start the baby making phase. Sometimes we relieved our tension with little jokes about the sperm donation. Rob teased that he would come with me and give me a blow job, but the clinic was no nonsense, so it was really just a little light humour. We wondered about the timing, and what our relationship with the surrogate mother would be like. We discussed names for our baby. We worried about how we would cope if we had twins, or even triplets!
It’s no wonder we were so excited and hopeful as the day neared to actually start the process.
So when Rob’s phone rang and the call display showed it was from the Northridge clinic we were buoyant with enthusiasm. Rob answered with a cheerful hello but soon his face fell and he went ashen. He talked briefly mostly saying “okay” and “yes, we will.” When he pushed the end button on the phone he looked at me forlornly.
My heart jumped to my throat and I asked, “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
He looked at me, with tears beginning to form in his eyes, and said, “They want to see us. There’s a problem with our application!”
TO BE CONTINUED....
- 28
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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