Legacy - 21. Relationships - Josh Kimball-Reynolds

“This is amazing, Sammy,” Dad said with his mouth full, “I’ve never tasted anything like it.” Uncle Sammy had prepared a gourmet vegetarian feast for us in celebration of the conclusion of Dad’s first day of testimony before the Joint House and Senate Judiciary Committee. Dad had another day of testimony ahead of him before the Committee and prolly before the full House and Senate.

“I can’t believe there’s no meat in this,” Alan chimed in. “I never knew vegetables could taste like this.”

“How did you ever learn to make things like this?” Sandy asked. “I like to cook, but the food I make tastes so ordinary.”

“Sandy,” Uncle Sammy answered, “there are whole sections in bookstores dedicated to cookbooks, thousands of websites dealing with gourmet cooking and scores of holovision shows hosted by famous chefs. Cooking is an art form and just as there are those who finger paint and then there are the Picassos in the art world, there are those who stick to the basics and then there are people who’ve made gourmet cooking their life’s profession. Becoming a Picasso takes a lot of study and dedication, and having an aptitude for it.

“I took an interest in gourmet cooking when I was younger than Josh is, and my skills are something I’ve enjoyed perfecting over time. I’d be happy to show you the basics if you’re interested, but moving beyond just following recipes in a book is something that takes patience, practice and developing a sense of how different tastes can be blended together.”

Sighing, my sister said, “Patience is something I’ve never had. Oh well . . .”

“Are you serious about your offer to teach gourmet skills?” Alan asked, surprising me.

“Very serious, Alan,” he answered. “I’m always happy to share what I’ve learned. I’ve even been a guest chef on some cooking shows, but a lot of what I do comes more from experience and from a sixth sense of what will work than from learning what's in a cook book.”

“I’d love to try,” Alan replied, “if you have the time.”

For you I’ll make the time,” Sam responded.

“You’re really interested in this?” I asked Alan, “’cause like my sister, I’m not known for my patience.”

“Sure I’m interested,” Alan answered. “Hey, I fell in love with a vegetarian, so I’d better learn how to prepare meals for him.”

“You want to learn how to cook for me?” I asked.

“It’s for me too,” Alan answered. “After all, I grew up eating meat and if I’m gonna live with a vegetarian, I better learn how to make things without meat that I like, or I’ll starve to death.”

“But you want to do it so you can be with me, like, forever?” I asked.

“Joshy, the last couple of days have been the absolute best in my life,” Alan replied softly as he looked into my eyes. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I have to go home, and back to school. My life was so empty before I met you.

“Do I want to be with you, like, forever? After what we did yesterday, you even need to ask? Of course I want to be with you forever. I meant what I said when I told your dad you’re the man I’m gonna marry.”

Tears started to flow from my eyes - I couldn’t help it. “I love you so much, Alan,” I said through my tears. “I know we’ve both said it a thousand times over the past few days, but I can’t believe you want to learn how to cook for me.”

Taking my hands in his, Alan added, “I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Joshy. I’d do anything for you. You captivated me, right from the start. I’d marry you right now if the law would let us. You’ll be sixteen very soon, though, and sixteen-year-olds can get married in most states if their parents give their permission.”

“God, this is so sickening,” Sandy moaned.

“I think it’s sweet,” Uncle Sammy countered.

“You really want to get married when you turn sixteen?” Dad asked.

Looking at my dad with what must have been the most pathetic puppy dog eyes, “Could I, Dad, please?”

Chuckling, he answered, “Although I certainly believe in love at first sight, marriage is a big deal. Pop and I got married when we were seventeen, but we’d already been boyfriends for three years by then, and we were ready to go out into the world on our own.”

“Uncle Kurt was sixteen,” I pointed out.

“True,” Dad acknowledged, “but marriage was the only way he and Uncle Trevor could have been together in college, at least legally, and like us, they were leaving home then. Not to mention that Kurt was a lot closer to his seventeenth birthday than his sixteenth at the time, and he and Trevor had been together for two years by then.

“Alan,” my dad began, “how old were your parents when they got married.”

“They were seventeen,” Alan acknowledged.

“Yes they were,” Dad reiterated. “They took early graduation, just as David and I did, and got married the summer between high school and college too, after having been boyfriends for three years.”

“I didn’t get married until I was 24,” Uncle Sammy chimed in. “I didn’t even really date in high school . . .”

“Yes, but you only went to high school for one year,” I countered.

“And I hardly dated at all in college, either,” he continued. “I did get kind of serious about someone during the time I was at NYU, but her life was in the East and mine was in the Midwest.”

“If you loved her and she loved you,” I asked, “Why didn’t one of you give in? You could’ve moved to the East easily enough . . . you ended up in Washington eventually, anyway . . . or she could have moved to the Midwest.”

“Life’s not that simple, Josh,” Sam explained. “In retrospect, we liked each other a lot, but we weren’t enough in love with each other to give up the things that were important to us. What I felt for Lisa wasn’t anything like what I felt for Sally. With Sally, it really was love.”

“So why did the two of you break up?” I asked.

“It was . . . personal,” Uncle Sammy answered. “It was a shame, because we really did love each other and in many ways still do, but we just didn’t have, don't have, what it takes to make it as a couple.”

“But why didn’t you find someone else and remarry?” Sandy asked.

Sighing, he replied, “Let’s just say that the majority of the reason my marriage failed lay with me, and I’d have carried my demons with me into any marriage. Maybe someday I’ll get past it, but so far I haven’t been ready to try again.”

“Did it have to do with Gary?” I asked. Uncle’s Kurt and Sammy told me the whole story of what had happened to them at summer camp in 2008, so I knew all about Uncle Sammy being raped and all.

“That had a lot to do with it,” Uncle Sammy admitted.

“I really hope someday you can find someone who can make you forget what happened all those years ago,” Sandy added.

“Maybe you should try guys,” I suggested with a smirk.

Laughing, Uncle Sammy replied, “Maybe I should.” Yeah, that’d be the day.

“So getting back to your wedding plans,” Dad began, “Although I appreciate your desire to get on with it, much as I do believe in love at first sight, I think the two of you need a bit more time to get to know each other and be sure this is all real. You need time to adjust and be sure the bright flame of passion you feel now will simmer down to a nice steady fire, and not go out altogether. Besides which, you still have the rest of high school to get through, and there’s the whole college thing to think about. If you end up going to different schools . . . well very few marriages can survive that.”

“But everything worked out for you and Dad, and Uncles Trevor and Kurt, and Brad and Kayla, and Randy and Altaf, and Alan’s parents too. I know it’s gonna work out between me and Alan.”

“I’m sure it probably will,” Dad agreed, “but I’m just saying you should give it some time. You should see how it goes.”

“But all of you went to the same high school as your boyfriend did,” I pointed out. “How can me and Alan get to know each other if we never see each other?”

“Even if you went to the same school, you wouldn’t have much time together anyway during the school week,” Dad countered. “If it’s OK with Alan’s parents, I'd have no objection to you and Alan spending your weekends together. At least you live in the same city. This isn’t a commuter relationship we’re talking about here. We’ll see how it goes and if you still feel the same way in a year, we can talk about marriage.”

“I hate to say it, Joshy, but your dad’s right,” Alan chimed in, much to my surprise. “I’m not saying we need to wait to see if we love each other. Far as I’m concerned, I’ve found my soul mate. I’m just saying that it won’t be that bad to wait if we must. I have a car and I have my license. I can get down here in twenty minutes as long as it’s not rush hour.”

“You have a car?” I asked.

“We just never got around to talking about it but, yeah, I have a car. My dads got it for me for my sixteenth. It’s a ’39 BMW Cabriolet.”

“Sweet!” I exclaimed.

“Meh, it’s all right,” Alan replied. “It fits in well with what the other kids drive that go to Whitman. Personally, I’d just as soon have a Civic. I don’t like showing off and the Civic’s a more practical car.”

Laughing, Uncle Sammy said, “That’s exactly the way I used to feel. In fact, I drove a Civic . . . one of Honda’s last gasoline hybrids . . . not that long ago, even when I was the mayor. It was your dad that talked me into getting something a bit more fun to drive.” Uncle Sammy went on to tell us the story about how he had Dad over for a cookout when Pop was in the midst of his campaign for the Senate.

It was strange, but the way Uncle Sammy and Dad looked at each other, I almost felt like something must have happened between them back then, but it couldn’t have. Dad and Pop were never unfaithful to each other. Never, ever. I sure didn’t remember anything out of the ordinary, other than the stress of Dad and Pop campaigning. ’Course Sandy and I stayed with Grandpa Tom and Grandma Cynthia most of the time, so we didn’t see either of our fathers much that summer, other than for the occasional campaign appearance we were expected to be a part of.

“So after driving your dad’s car,” Uncle Sammy concluded, “I just couldn’t go back to driving my little Honda. I went out and bought an Infinity Eco-Star 500 of my own the next day.”

“I remember that car!” I exclaimed. “You had it until, like, a couple years ago or so.”

“It was a great car,” Sammy agreed, “but the nitrogen cooled battery became prohibitive to maintain. I love the Sogdo Horizon XG I drive now, and the nano-tube battery’s maintenance-free.”

“I’ve heard only good things about Sogdo,” Dad chimed in. “It’s still a bit hard to wrap my mind around the idea of Hyundai having a luxury brand, but then Grandpa Tom used to say the same thing about Toyota’s Lexus brand.”

“Not to change the subject,” Uncle Sammy started to ask, “but what do your dads think about your relationship with Josh?”

“They’re as excited as I am,” Alan answered. “I mean, I came out to them when I was thirteen . . .”

“Josh was eleven when he came out to us,” Dad interrupted.

“But I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” continued Alan and then, turning to me, he added, “I guess Zach came out to your fathers when he was eleven, too.”

“How well I remember,” Dad commented, “and two years later he came out to everyone, at a Fourth of July party, no less.”

“Yeah, he told me all about it and how this girl who’d been chasing after him outed him to the whole school and made his life miserable. But that’s how he and Kevin became boyfriends. They’d been crushin’ on each other for a long time and when Zach approached Kevin with a scheme to put the girl in her place, they finally admitted how they felt about each other, and then had wild passionate sex all afternoon.”

“They told you that?” Dad asked with raised eyebrows.

“Well, not in so many words,” Alan explained, “but every time I talk about it, they color up. I don’t even want to think about the stuff they did, but the way they react, I figure I must be right.”

“Even at their age, your dad Zach is one hot dude,” I countered. “Kevin’s not half-bad looking either. The thought of them getting it on when they were kids is the stuff of wet dreams, you know?”

“Eww!” was all Alan said.

“Speaking of sex,” Dad began, “are you boys being safe?”

“Daaad!” I practically screamed.

“Hey, I remember very well what it’s like to be fifteen or sixteen and horny,” he challenged, “so don’t even try to deny you’ve had sex. No parent wants to think of their kids having sex, anymore than kids want to think of their parents doing it, but I’m a realist. I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt . . . emotionally or physically.”

I knew I turned tomato-red when I replied, “It’s not exactly like we have access to condoms down here, Dad.”

“Before you go to bed tonight,” Dad stated firmly, “you’ll have an ample supply of condoms and lube . . . and you’re both getting tested for STDs as soon as I can arrange it.”

“Oh my God,” I cried out as I noticed Alan looking down and covering his face with his hands.

“Guys,” Dad continued, “it’s a lot better to be embarrassed than to end up with HIV. The cure may be 80% effective, but that still means one in five can’t be cured, and the treatment more than doubles your lifetime cancer risk. Why chance it?”

“Geez,” I complained, “it’s not like either of us has ever done anything before.”

“Not that I don’t trust you boys,” Dad countered, “but teenagers have been known to lie about past encounters they’d rather forget about. I’m not willing to take chances when it comes to protecting the lives of the ones I love. If I hadn’t brought it up, would you two have told me about the things you’ve already done?”

The smile on my face prolly told Dad everything he wanted to know about what went on earlier that day and the day before between me and Alan . . .

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

I couldn’t believe I got up at six in the morning. I never got up that early except when I had to go to school. As it was, I barely slept, and when I slept, all I dreamt about was Alan. That boy just swept me off my feet. I couldn’t wait to spend the day with him! I felt like I was floating on air.

Taking my shower, I was hard as a rock thinking about my hot boyfriend. I was sooo tempted to jerk off, but I kinda knew we’d be having sex. There was no way I was gonna waste it on my hand, you know?

I got out of the shower and it was still only 6:15. Was someone deliberately slowing down the clock? Clean-shaven was in so I shaved extra close, ’cause I wanted to look perfect for Alan. I’d been shaving for more than a year now and just about every day for the past few months. I guess Pop started shaving when he was fourteen too, from what Dad said. So’d Uncle Brad.

I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash, and I flossed, even though I’d just done it last night. I trimmed and filed my finger nails and toe nails to the point they almost looked manicured. Finally, I splashed on a little of the cologne Sandy got me for Hanukah.

Looking through the clothes Henry brought down from the Residence, I put on my sexiest pair of bikini briefs - the dark, dark red ones that were sheer except in front. Choosing what shirt to wear proved to be the toughest part. Should I wear my black wife beater, the cream-colored polo Dad said brought out the golden color of my eyes, or my silky red button-up dress shirt? In the end I decided on a tight-fitting dark blue mesh shirt - it showed off my swimmer’s physique nicely and let just a hint of my nipples show through. A pair of tight-fitting jeans and a pair of sandals completed the picture.

By the time I finished getting ready, even with all the time spent fussing over my wardrobe, it was still only seven o’clock. Shit, I still had two hours before I’d see my baby. There was no way I was gonna make it ’til nine, so I grabbed my jock, a pair of running shorts and running shoes, a bar of soap, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, my deodorant and my cologne, threw them all into my backpack and headed to the Rec. Center. I figured I might as well run off all my excess energy.

When I reached the gym, I ducked into the locker room and changed out of my carefully crafted outfit and into my running clothes. I then headed to the exercise room and, when I walked inside, was greeted by the most beautiful site I’d ever seen. On one of the treadmills was my baby, shirtless and in running shorts. His face and torso were covered in a fine sheen of sweat that made him look sexy as hell.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people working out and the treadmill next to Alan was unoccupied. Sneaking around behind him so he wouldn’t see me, I got on the treadmill and started it up as I stared unabashedly at the lithe form of my boyfriend. I guess Alan finally noticed someone was staring at him and, when he turned his head and saw who it was, the most beautiful smile lit up his whole face. Knowing that it was all because of me made me feel, well special, you know?

“Been here long?” I asked.

“Nah . . . five minutes . . . maybe ten.”

“You usually run in the morning?” I asked.

Laughing, he answered, “Hardly. I’m usually not much of a morning person, but if you run in the mornings, maybe I’ll take it up.”

“I’m not much of a morning person either, but I was just too excited to sleep,” I said with a grin.

“Same here!” Alan admitted. “I just couldn’t stop thinking of you . . . of spending the day together . . . and if I can talk my dads into it, maybe the night too.”

“Who said we have to wait ’til the night?” I pointed out with a smirk.

“Oooh, you talk like that and I won’t be able to finish my workout.”

“OK, I’ll be good . . . for now,” I promised.

We both ran for a half-hour - I guess Alan a little longer since he started earlier - and then we took turns spotting each other with free weights. Alan was so fucking sexy as he flexed his muscles. I had to keep reciting the periodic table to keep my arousal in check.

After about an hour of working out together, we’d both worked up quite a sweat and decided to call it quits. The combination of his sweat-covered body and the scent of his cologne had me insanely aroused. What I really wanted to do was to skip taking a shower and just take him straight to my quarters but I thought he’d prolly think I was a pervert if I suggested it.

As if reading my mind, however, Alan said, “God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy. There’s a part of me that would just like to go back to your quarters and fuck each other silly. Forget about taking a shower. Forget about breakfast. I want you now, you know?”

“Boy do I know,” I admitted. “There’s more than a part of me that would like to do the same thing. I was afraid you’d think I’m weird, or I’d have suggested it in the first place.”

“Maybe we’re both weird,” Alan said, “but your body . . . your sweat . . . your cologne . . . it’s all driving me crazy.”

“God yes,” I agreed. “Let’s do it!”

Alan grinned at me, then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the locker room. He waited by my locker as I gathered my things. I didn’t bother changing clothes - I just put on my shirt over my running shorts.

“Nice threads,” Alan commented. “That’s one hot shirt,” and then picking up my briefs, he added, “I’m definitely gonna wanna see you in these!”

When we stopped at his locker, I couldn’t help but notice his selection of clothes, either, and told him how much I liked them. He pulled on a dark red tank top over his running shorts, and had a pair of khakis and leather flip-flops, which he left off as I did my jeans and sandals.

“I’m definitely gonna wanna see you in these,” I added as I picked up his sheer, light teal briefs and tossed them to him.

With all our things packed up in our backpacks, we headed out of the Rec Center and to my quarters. No sooner was my door closed and locked than our lips were locked on each other’s. Man, he tasted good! Our tongues danced with each other as our hands explored each other’s body. We kissed with unbridled passion.

Reaching for the hem of my shirt, Alan pulled it up and we released our lip-lock just long enough for him to tug it off my body. I followed suit with Alan’s shirt and then our lips reconnected as the skin of our torsos came in contact with one another. Alan nibbled on my neck and licked and sucked my nipples. I did likewise. I nuzzled my face in his armpit and enjoyed the aroma. I think I surprised both of us when I lifted his arm and licked him there. I’d never realized how sexy an armpit could be!

Feeling like my dick was gonna rip right through my jock, I grabbed the waistband of my running shorts and pushed my shorts and jock down in one motion, toeing off my sneakers and stepping out of the last of my clothing.

“Wow!” was Alan’s response, and then he did the same, leaving us both totally naked. I loved what I saw. His pubes were dark and curly, his dick was very long and thin, much like my own, and his balls were just perfect.

Taking his hand, I led him to my bed. It was only a twin bed but it was plenty big enough for the two of us. Lying on top of him, we started making out in earnest as we ground away. Our hands were everywhere and I mean everywhere. Our humping became more and more frantic and as his fingers started to explore my cleft and grazed my ring, I lost it. Moments later I felt Alan’s body shuddering under me.

We continued to make out as we smeared the mixture of our cum and sweat between us. My erection never did go away, even just after cumming. God, how I loved my boyfriend!

“We prolly should shower,” I suggested, not really wanting to end what we were doing but realizing we were likely stinking up the room.

“Not so fast, Joshy,” - I loved it when he called me that - and then he flipped me onto my back and started licking his way down my chest, nibbling and sucking my nipples, licking my pits and lapping at the fluids that had pooled in my navel. Finally, he engulfed me in one motion, taking me deep into his throat.

My whole world went fuzzy with the feelings emanating from my groin. As he bobbed up and down on me, instinctively I humped his face. He used one hand to rub my balls while the other teased at my ring and then, slick with my sweat, pushed inside. The most fantastic sensation, however, came from the way his hair draped itself all over my lower abdomen and groin. The added stimulation of thousands of his luxurious strands tickling me with each movement of his head put me on sensory overload. I couldn’t help but run my hands through his hair, reveling in its softness.

I’d messed around with other boys before, particularly when I was younger and my friends were more willing to experiment, but I’d never done anything like this. I never knew it could be like this. I tried to hold back but I think we both had a lot to learn about how to keep each other on the edge. I tried to warn him to pull off when I was getting close but he kept right on, holding himself firmly to me.

After I was drained, he slid back up my body and shared some of my load with me as we kissed. I’d tasted my cum before, but it was somehow different - more erotic - sharing it with my lover.*

“How the fuck did you ever learn to give such awesome head?” I finally asked.

“I practiced a lot,” he explained, causing me to suddenly feel nervous until he continued, “with carrots!” Then we both laughed.

“I’m afraid I’ve not practiced on anything or anyone,” I said, “so I prolly won’t be any good but, as they say, practice makes perfect.”

With our bodies closely entwined, I then flipped him onto his back as he’d done with me and proceeded to mimic what he’d done just minutes before. When I finally reached his member, I wasn’t able to swallow it whole as he had with me and my gag reflex got in the way when I tried to take him into my throat, so I settled for pleasuring the head with my mouth while I used my hand to stroke his shaft. I was obviously gonna hafta pick up some carrots, or better still, just spend a lot of time practicing on the real thing.

I learned pretty quickly that I needed to avoid scraping him with my teeth, particularly my back teeth. Eventually I got into a steady rhythm and was able to get more and more of him into my mouth without gagging. Using my other hand, I teased at his ring and as his perspiration coated my finger, pushed inside. No sooner did I do that than I felt his balls tighten up and then without warning, his cum rocketed into the back of my throat.

My first instinct was to pull off him and cough violently to dislodge the intruding liquid from my throat but I used all my willpower to suppress my gag reflex and, by the time the next volley arrived, I was able to swallow and enjoy the taste. Once he was fully spent, I shared what was left in my mouth with him as we engaged in a passionate kiss. Boy, did we kiss!

“You wanna do anal?” Alan asked.

“I’m ‘up’ for just about anything and everything except maybe S&M,” I replied. “Frankly, I’m not sure what anyone sees in doin’ that shit.”

“Same here,” Alan laughed.

“What are we gonna do about condoms?” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about . . . except for my experience with carrots, I’m a total virgin . . .”

“Same here, even with carrots,” I interrupted with a smile.

“Besides, it’s not like we have any condoms down here,” Alan pointed out.

“Good point,” I acknowledged, “but I suspect our dads are gonna insist we use them once they find out what we’ve been up to.”

“Prolly,” Alan agreed, “but let's not worry about that until it happens.”

“So you wanna do anal?” I asked with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm in my voice.

Rather than answer me, Alan drew his legs up and draped them on my shoulders.

“You want me to top you?” I asked.

“It’s my ultimate fantasy,” Alan explained. “Maybe later we can try it the other way around.”

“Definitely,” I agreed with enthusiasm. “I’d better get something to use as lube, though,” I announced as I got up.

Making my way to the bathroom, I planned to grab some hand lotion, but the sound of the shower alerted me that my sister was inside. Fuck! But then I remembered my backpack. Returning to my room, I grabbed the bottle of conditioner from inside.

“Go for it, Joshy,” Alan implored me. “I want you in me now!”

“I think maybe I’d better loosen you up a bit first,” I suggested. “At least that’s what they always do in the stories I’ve read on Nifty,” I admitted with a sheepish grin. Alan knowingly grinned back at me.

When I had little difficulty getting three fingers into him, he looked up at me with the cutest smile and said one word, “Carrots.”

“Ohhh, TMI!” I replied.

Adding some conditioner to my member, I lined myself up and slipped right in. Oh my God - it felt incredible! I slowly started my thrusts, looking for any sign of pain on the face of my lover. With a little experimentation and encouragement from Alan, I got to where I was hitting his prostate on most every thrust. We tried kissing while doing it but as we got closer to our climax, Alan threw his head back and left his mouth wide open as he moaned loudly. Something told me I’d be getting quite a ribbing from Sis later on.

The feeling of Alan’s ring clamping down on me and his cum spreading between the two of us sent me over the edge as well.

After we’d finished, we just lay there in each other’s arms, cuddling, caressing, fondling each other. I don’t know how we managed to cum three times in a row like that. Beyond reason, Alan drove me insane with lust, but it was much, much more than our horniness that drove us. We were hopelessly and thoroughly in love with each other.

We were almost asleep when a knock on the door woke us up.

“Josh,” my sister called out through the locked door, “I’m heading to the cafeteria to get something to eat now. The shower’s free for you guys to use,” and then after a pause, she added, “You know, there’s a self-serve laundry facility next to the Rec. Center. You might want to wash your sheets before Dad gets home.”

“How embarrassing!” Alan moaned aloud.

“Well, you weren’t exactly quiet,” I pointed out.

“I couldn’t help it. You do that to me!”

“The feeling’s mutual,” I replied, and then kissed him. Again, the kissing led to much, much more . . .

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

“That smile on your face tells me what you’ve been up to the last couple of days,” Dad continued, pulling me back from my daydream.

I knew my face was on fire - I couldn’t help it, and so was Alan’s. “Well, we’ve been having a lot of fun just hanging out together too,” I said in my own defense.

“Yeah,” Alan chimed in. “Joshy’s singing voice is awesome, and he plays a mean guitar. He sure knows a lot of cool old songs like, what was that one you sang to me today that I really liked?”

“Stairway to Heaven,” I replied. Uncle Trevor taught me a lot of songs from when he was growing up, and some of the older classics. Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven is one of my all-time faves so, naturally, I wanted to share it with the boy I loved. ’Course I didn’t tell Dad that I was naked when I sang it to Alan but thinking about how I had to clean my cum off the guitar afterwards only made me blush even more.

“Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed about it, Honey,” Dad interjected, causing Alan to snicker at the use of the word, ‘Honey’ - how embarrassing. “Pop and I were sexually active throughout our teens, practically from the time we met. When you love someone, sex is a natural expression of that love. With most kids I’d worry that you’re confusing lust with love, but I know you better than that. I’ve seen you lust after many boys, but never have you acted on it before. The way the two of you look at each other tells me all I need to know.

“Just remember that you’re young and things can change. We also need to have ‘the talk’ once this crisis is behind us. And like I said, I’m going to see to it that you have condoms and lubricant available from now on.”

The last thing I wanted was to have ‘the talk’ with Dad, even though I knew he was doing it because he loved me. Just as Dad was about to say something else, we were interrupted by a knock on the door. It opened to reveal Barry Smith, Uncle Sammy’s assistant.

“Sammy,” Barry announced, “I have Paul on the line. He’d like to talk to you. He says it’s urgent. Shall I put him through on the intercom?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Uncle Sammy answered.

A minute later, we all heard my Uncle Sammy’s friend, Paul Manning, say, “Hey Sammy. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have an important request.”

“I’ll do what I can . . . you know that, Paul. By the way, I have Jeremy and his kids, and Josh’s boyfriend here with me.”

“Hey Jer,” Paul said, “and hey Sandy and Josh, and Alan . . . I don’t know if you remember me since you were a little kid the last time I saw you, but it’s nice to talk to you too.”

“Um, yeah,” Alan answered. “I do remember you, but how the fu . . . how in the world did you know it was me?”

Laughing, he answered, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Then changing the subject, he continued, “Actually Jer, you’d probably be even more helpful than Sammy in this, especially with you becoming vice-president and all. Listen, I need to go to Israel. I tried to buy a ticket, but they wouldn’t let me without a special visa. It’s urgent that I get there as soon as possible."

“Yeah, with the recent terrorist attacks and assassinations, Israel’s implemented travel restrictions, but why do you need to go to Israel, Paul?” Dad asked.

“It’s . . . complicated,” Paul tried to explain. “Let’s just say that events are unfolding differently than they were supposed to. Karen Richards wasn’t supposed to die. Altaf wasn’t supposed to become Secretary of State until after peace had been restored in the Middle East. Now it looks like peace may never come, and Altaf’s life is in grave danger. I can get things back on track, but I have to go there now!”

“Whoa, Paul,” Sammy answered. “What the Hell can you do to restore peace in the Middle East?”

“It’s more a matter of what I can do to prevent other people from derailing it completely,” Paul explained.

“Paul’s involved with the terrorists?” I asked Dad quietly in my astonishment.

“Not at all,” Dad whispered, “but he sometimes gets premonitions of things in the future. He’s been doing it since we were kids.”

Then speaking up and addressing Paul again, Dad asked, “But won’t it be dangerous for you?”

“You worry too much, Jer,” Paul countered. “I always come out OK, don’t I? It’s not like I don’t know how to handle myself.”

“You’re a police lieutenant in Baltimore . . . the head of the Homicide division, Paul, not an international spy,” Dad countered.

“I know that, Jer, but what I’ll be doing won’t even remotely resemble espionage. As far as anyone’s concerned, I’ll be over there to learn about police work in Israel while taking in the sights.”

“Can’t you work through police channels to get your visa?” Dad asked.

“I don’t have time for that, Jer. It was hard enough to get permission to take time off at all. I had to tell the Police Commissioner that Trevor asked me to go on his behalf, but then I couldn’t exactly explain why I didn’t have a visa. The reason I called Sam was to ask him to square things away with his brother, but as long as you’re on the phone . . . Come on, man. I really need your help.”

Sighing, Dad said, “I’ll try to get something arranged for after the funeral.”

“No!” Paul practically shouted. “I need to leave tomorrow at the latest. A few more days would be too late. Better still, there’s a non-stop flight out of Philly that leaves at 9:15 tonight . . .”

“9:15!” Dad practically screamed. “That’s just over two hours from now! Do you think you can make it?”

“If you could have the visa waiting for me at the US Airways ticket counter, I’ll definitely make it. I’m already packed and traffic on the interstates is almost non-existent. With my lights flashing, I’ll make the drive in an hour and a quarter, and that’s sticking to a comfortable seventy miles an hour. With my badge I’ll get priority going through security so, yeah, I can make it . . . easily.

“I just need that visa waiting for me and an executive order to hold my seat.”

“You don’t want much, do you?” Sammy asked.

“It’s really that important?” Dad asked.

“You think I’d take a chance on missing Dave’s funeral if it weren’t?” came Paul’s retort.

Sighing again, Dad replied, “All right. I’ll call Altaf and have him wake up our ambassador in Israel. Your visa should be ready by the time you get to the airport in Philadelphia. By the way, have you made your reservation?”

“Not yet, Jer,” Paul answered.

“Don’t sweat it,” Dad responded. “As long as I have to call US Airways anyway to make sure they hold your seat, I’ll make your reservation and leave the return flight open. I’ll have Henry get right on it. Everything’ll be all set by the time you arrive in Philly. Just don’t forget to bring your passport, and drive safely!”

“Thanks, Jer, I owe you one.”

“If what you say is true, we’ll all owe you one pretty soon,” Dad added.

“Hey my best friend, you be careful.” Uncle Sammy added.

“For you buddy,” Paul replied, “I’d do anything.”