The Artists - 13. The Other Half of Sunday

Earlier that day Six awoke to the sensation that someone was in his room. He’d been back barely twenty-four hours and was already anxious to get out of the hospital. He tried dozing back into some incoherent dream that made him feel strangely elated, almost the same feeling as when his mother took him out for pizza instead of one of her fancy restaurants where he had to wear a shirt and tie.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said.

Six smiled. It was the old man. Maybe he actually was real or was this only a very coherent dream that he’d wake up from later?

“No, you’re awake,” the old man said.

“You can read my mind,” Six said.

“Your thoughts, yes,” the old man said as he walked out of the shadow and over to the bed. “I can’t read your mind because you’re still a teenager and you have no mind. It’s all a jumble of sex, bicycles, and cute boys.”

“What now, do I have another demon?” Six asked.

“No, I came to say goodbye,” the old man said. “They took you away so fast and put you back in your body, I didn’t get a chance to offer my help in the future.”

“That was God wasn’t it?” Six asked, wondering why the old man referred to Him as They, as if They were a lot of Gods.

“A lot of people believe in different supreme beings,” the old man said. “For some, it is called God, as in the one and true God. For others, it’s something completely different. For some, there isn’t really a god at all, just some concept of Supreme Being in charge of everything. The Grand Watchmaker who keeps the Heavens on their nightly course, or something like that.”

“What are you?” Six asked.

“Ah, childish impertinence, don’t you just love it,” the old man said. “You could say I’m an angel, but you’d be wrong because I live and breathe like you and someday, like you, I will die. I am your spiritual guide. That’s the short answer and probably the long answer as well.”

“But we, no that was my spirit,” Six said. “Then that was your spirit, too.”

“Bingo! Right on the mark,” the old man said.

“You said you were going to give me something to help with my meditation,” Six said.

“I did didn’t I and I think I know just what you need,” the old man said as he lifted the blanket and pulled up Six’s gown. There was gauze wrapped around the end of his penis where the circumcision had been performed. The old man grasped Six’s penis. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“You’re the one holding my cock,” Six said. “I figured you’ve got all the funny ideas.”

“There, how’s that,” the old man said.

Six looked at his penis and saw that his foreskin had been restored.

“Thanks,” Six said. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Sure, my name is Philip and anytime you meditate I’ll be there. If you get deep enough, I may come to you, but I won’t unless you need me. Just remember to concentrate on being you and don’t worry too much.”

Six was hoping for a puff of smoke, but the old man simply walked out the door. He looked at his cock and pulled the foreskin back. It was nice to be back to normal, again.

Later, a couple of doctors showed up on rounds with a bevy of nurses to check Six’s progress toward healing. Philip not only restored the foreskin, but put Six back to where he was before his attempt at excruciating death. To say the doctors were puzzled wouldn’t quite explain their shock at the boy’s condition. One of the doctors, the surgeon who had been operating on Six at the same time the boy was slaying the demon, simply shook his head and walked out the door.

The other doctor didn’t want to unhook all the plumbing and electricals plugged into or attached to Six at that moment, so he ordered a full panel of tests which would keep Six in the hospital at least one more night. He suspected he could just let the boy go home, but procedures needed to be followed and it was well known throughout the hospital that somehow Six was here, rather than at County, because of some very powerful people in North Park, but one more day just to make certain nothing was amiss wouldn’t hurt and very well might prevent some future issue.

Through all of this Six remained calm, until the doctor was getting ready to leave.

“Aren’t you going to take the tube out of my dick?” Six asked.

The doctor, an older gentleman more used to patients who didn’t mysteriously become completely cured overnight, stood for a moment and then said, “Nurse, take care of it.”

Six lay back and let the nurses do their jobs. He wanted to think of maybe Casey coming to the hospital and giving him a hand job, but knew thinking of that would cause him to have an erection, something the nurses didn’t need to deal with right now. It was at that moment he realized he was separate from his body. It was being tended to by the nurses while he was thinking about things that might arouse him. Nothing was happening, down there. Nothing was happening anywhere. He had slipped away to some unknown place.

He was sitting on a rock bench before a pool of dark water somewhere in a barren, stark landscape of bare rock and lifeless clumps of dead grass. The wind was blowing slightly from his left. He was crying. Tears streamed down his face. His nose was clogged with snot. He was blubbering. He looked down and he’d skinned his right knee falling off his bike.

He breathed in heavily and held it a moment. He stared into the pond and saw the water ripple from the breeze as it freshened. This was a much better place to go. There was peace here. He looked to his right and the old man was sitting next to him, but lost in the thought.

Six opened his eyes to see an LPN named Karen put a tray of soft food on his stand.

“The doctor wants to see if you can tolerate a little food,” she said. “If you’re a good boy, he’ll let you go home tomorrow.”

“I’m not doing anything but getting better,” Six said meaning every word. He’d had his lesson and lived to tell about it, but he knew no one would believe him, not even the shrink he was certain his mother was going to send him to. He’d been very stupid and would be lucky if they didn’t send him to a fruit farm for a couple of months just to be sure he was okay. He’d have to go along with it. No one wanted to hear about Philip, the eagle, or the demon fetus in his gut. That was crazy shit.

“Good; now eat as much as you can, but don’t try to stuff yourself,” the nurse said with a smile. “We don’t want to make ourselves sick and have to go to the hospital.”

Six smiled and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle.

When Ben woke up he could hear Jason singing in the shower. It was a medley of hymns, but Jason obviously didn’t know all the words or the melodies. Jason always sang in the shower and it didn’t matter which song he was trying to sing, he never sang it right.

Onward Christmas sho-o-ders,
marching off to war,
hi ho, hi ho,
we’ve got a stick,
and you don’t

Onward Christmas sho-o-ders,
marching along the road,
we gotta do it, do it, do it,
ta da, ta dee,
dum dee, dee

Ben shook his head and sat up. They’d fucked again last night, in the middle of the night with the lights out, but at least Jason hadn’t hit him. There was simply a nudge at his shoulder until he awoke.

“Huh?”

“I wanna fuck.”

“Sure, okay.”

He jerked himself off while Jason got off. It was simple, easy, and didn’t require a lot of unnecessary communication between them. He was beginning to like Jason and figured maybe things were going to work out for them.

It was at that point he saw Jason’s wallet on the desk. It was just sitting there by itself all alone inviting investigation. A little look wouldn’t hurt, would it? He wasn’t going to mess up the situation by taking anything. He just wanted to look.

A mighty forest is our God,
a bullwet never falling
to be our helper when the water
tops the levee
Dee, dee, dee, dum, dee

Jason sorted his bills. There was a hundred; much too large and definitely would be noticed if gone. The three fifties were, also, too small of a set to tamper with, as was the single twenty and ten. The five fives though just asked to be relieved of that hot, steamy wallet.

Just one; it certainly wouldn’t be missed. Ben had to take just one and it was going to be one of the fives.

He tried to get the wallet in its original position on the desk. He had stared at it long enough to do that, he hoped. Then he went back to bed, clutching the five in his fist, and shut his eyes to fake being asleep figuring Jason would’ve woken him earlier if there was to be any sex.

He must have dozed off because the next thing Ben became aware off was his right arm being pulled away from him. He wondered if he should resist. “Resistance is futile!” Something tight around his wrist made him want to look, but he didn’t. He faked a mumble when he realized he couldn’t pull his arm back and that was the hand with the five.

The other arm was being pulled away, too. This was definitely a situation where being startled awake was the best course of reality as any more faked sleep would be totally unbelievable. He opened his eyes just as his left wrist was fastened to the bedpost. He tried to move his legs, but they were also bound. He was spread-eagled face down. “Resistance is futile!”

“I’m very disappointed with you,” Jason said calmly as he sat down on Ben’s desk chair. “You took some of my money. I know how much money is in the wallet at all times. See I have a list of the serial numbers.”

He practically shoved the piece of paper into Ben’s face, who immediately thought, ‘This kid’s definitely wacko. Who keeps track of their money that closely?’

“And guess what, the five in your hand matches the one on my list,” Jason said.

He was going to get hit, as that was what Jason did to people who wronged him. He hoped it wouldn’t be too severe. Maybe just a call to the campus police would suffice. He’d be willing to go to jail just to prevent being hit. Maybe he should suggest it?

“Jason?” Ben started.

“Shut up!” Jason exclaimed. “You are not to speak unless spoken to. You’re just a child who hasn’t learned his lesson about other people’s property.”

‘Oh, god, here it comes,’ Ben thought. ‘He’s going to spank me like a little kid.’

“Know what this is?” Jason asked as he held up a length of green plastic garden hose.

“A piece of hose,” Ben said. “You’re not going to hit me with that, are you?”

“You have been naughty and I have to do something to teach you that stealing is something big boys don’t do,” Jason said with a strange air of parental authority.

“Jason, please don’t use that on me,” Ben said.

“Shut up!” Jason exclaimed, holding the hose as if he was going to hit Ben. “I told you, you’re not allowed to speak in here.”

Jason stood up and moved behind Ben who tried to look around, but couldn’t quite see what Jason was doing. Suddenly, Jason grasped Ben’s face and was trying to force his fingers into Ben’s mouth.

“Open your mouth,” Jason said.

Ben had been with Jason long enough to know opening his mouth was the best course of action.

“Wider!”

Ben complied and then felt a dry mass being forced into his mouth.

“I’m using one of your socks to gag you as I don’t want your slobber all over mine,” Jason said.

Ben tried to think about what a gag implied. Tomorrow was the first day of school and Jason was going to whip him. Sitting down was going to be very painful. Was taking the five worth it?

“It would’ve been nice if you’d peed before we do this, but I’m sure you’ll have fun cleaning up your mess,” Jason said with a voice filled with sadistic intent.

Ben knew there was nothing he could do when Jason applied some tape to hold the gag in his mouth. He wondered how loud screams sounded when they came out your nose. Would he scream from the pain?

“These are such nice thighs,” Jason said as he gently caressed them. “I was going to ask you to shave them along with your ass and balls. I was thinking we were going to have some fun this year. You definitely like having my dick up your ass.”

Ben winced at the first strike across his thighs, as he did with the second, third, and fourth. The fifth crossed the threshold into definite pain and each subsequent strike moved the dial up another notch toward the red line.

Ben couldn’t help screaming, even though little sound came out of his nose. He began to think maybe his parents should’ve spanked him a few times when he took things from other kids, a quarter from purses of women who came to visit, or some of the change from the offering as it passed him in church. Maybe a few good thrashings would’ve made him think about the urge to take things, but they just talked to him about how good little boys, good little persons, almost teenagers, and all the other euphemisms didn’t steal. They talked and talked, but never once did they strike him. Then they sent him away saying they couldn’t handle him.

Juvenile court, detention, and foster care, were all leading to that forever downward staircase into perpetual incarceration. He was a crook, a thief. Then Jerry found him or was it the other way around. Jerry was a state psychologist and was impressed with Jason’s drawings. He saw the potential and took it upon himself to lead Jason out of Hell.

It might have worked, too, if Ben hadn’t received a Robert Charles Scholarship. He was going away from Jerry, far, far away. He simply couldn’t handle not having Jerry constantly looking over his shoulder. That probably wasn’t the best cure, but it worked between them and he honestly tried to do it right for Jerry.

Maybe he should’ve had Jim call Jerry. They could’ve talked about what he needed to keep on the straight and narrow. Maybe Jim could’ve become his mentor, too.

Maybes, they were all maybes.

Ben wasn’t aware of much of anything when the hose stopped striking him. He was beyond pain into a realm of unreality where nothing seemed as it was. His thighs hurt beyond imagine. He was positive flesh was torn and he wanted to cry, but realized his eyes were already doing that.

He looked over at the chair and watched Jason jerking off. The kid got off on hurting people. That was definitely sadistic. Was that what made him such a good tight end; the willingness to hurt?

Ben was thankful he’d gotten up earlier than Jason and had his pee. He figured Jason might want something, which in a way he did. He wanted to catch him stealing so he could punish Ben. He wondered how long Jason had the garden hose. Did he whip last year’s roommate, too?

He watched the come spurt out of Jason’s dick and wished it was in his ass, but maybe Jason wasn’t into that kind of sex. Maybe it wasn’t sex at all. Maybe it was just doing what he’d been taught. Getting off on someone weaker; like a fag or your little brother.

“I spread the hits down your thighs,” Jason said, “so there isn’t any bleeding. Also, I put on some medicine and will get you some ice packs. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you are known on campus as a thief. I thought someone needed to teach you a lesson.”

“Thanks,” Ben mumbled through the sock.

How could a nice guy like that be so mean?

Jim awoke on his back with the young man’s nearly hairless brown arm draped across his chest. The sex had been better than he’d expected as the boy was definitely a top and seemed to truly like being with an older man. That surprised Jim as true gerontophiliacs, the ones who did it out of pleasure and not for supposed financial reward either as a hustler or a boy in a daddy/son relationship, were few in number whether straight or gay. He’d thought Ben was one, but Ben was only doing it to survive at Charles House.

Tommy on the other hand had his future mapped out for him. His family connections were going to take him places few white kids ever hoped of achieving, especially since Tommy was fluent in Vietnamese and a few other Asian languages. Being gay had its risks, of course, no matter where you went in the world being openly gay set off warning flags in the straight world. Negotiations that might take days or weeks might stretch out longer, or worse, stop altogether until a more suitable negotiator could be brought in.

That was one reason Tommy went to extra lengths to lose all the affectations caused by his gene set. His family knew, but families sometimes had reasons of their own for not bringing the Wrath of God down upon one of their own if the errant was discrete and not outwardly “showy.” Tommy was definitely not a flamer, though he was not butch either. If he had any failing, Tommy was very loving and gentle.

The fuck had been unbelievably slow and gentle with Tommy taking extra steps to ensure Jim was getter as much pleasure from the act as he was. It had taken nearly three hours just to get up to insertion, which seemed to occur spontaneously. One moment Jim was aware of Tommy’s erection outside and the next it was inside gently massaging nerve endings Jim hadn’t felt in years as Bobby didn’t fuck for his partner’s enjoyment. Outside, Tommy’s body, hands, and mouth were still actively manipulating Jim’s erogenous zones sending him to unbelievable heights of ecstasy.

He came twice. Once in the middle, shortly after Tommy had entered him and then somewhere toward the end after Tommy had come for something like the third or fourth time. Jim wasn’t counting. The second one was strange, though, like it was drawn out from deep within his soul. He couldn’t believe how much semen filled the space between their bodies. It was as if he was fifteen again and hadn’t jerked off in a month and when he did he did it slow so he’d come lots. He learned that trick early on from a cowboy in Amarillo and was appreciative of the lesson.

Yet, this time it seemed to be Tommy controlling Jim’s physical response. It was as if Tommy could get into Jim’s mind and body and create an orgasm so huge that it nearly overwhelmed Jim. He remembered little from the end other than Tommy gently covering him with a blanket and snuggling down beside him.

Of all the things that could happen as a result of this brief tryst, Jim’s mind came up with the fantasy that he and Tommy could make a life together, albeit a short one for him since Death was more than likely to be the next major event in his life. Could it happen? It was of the stuff his mother used to say to him, “If wishes were nickels, I’d take you to the circus.” When the circus did arrive his mother would answer his plea to go with, “You haven’t been wishing hard enough because I don’t have any nickels.”

Another part of Jim’s mind was thinking about Eddy Sandstrum and the possibility or impossibility of a restoral of their relationship. Did he want to end up in bed with another old man? Was Eddy even available? He might be married with children for all Jim knew. Eddy would probably have great-grandkids by now. How would they take to Jim if Eddy suddenly announced he was gay and going to live with his lover from college?

Jim felt Tommy’s erection against his thigh and slowly began to extricate himself from the young man’s entangling limbs. Tommy sighed, mumbled something in a language Jim didn’t recognize, and then lay flat on his back with his hands tucked behind his head. Jim had a feeling that Tommy was just faking being asleep, but lowered his lips over a dick that actually did resemble a wiener. There simply wasn’t any girth to it. Even the foreskin covered glans had barely any flare to it at all. Yet, it seemed to be the perfect fucking tool Jim had ever come across.

“You know, I got to pee really bad and if you don’t stop that, you might end up with a mouthful of Roman mouthwash,” Tommy whispered.

“Go take care of your problem, I’ll order breakfast,” Jim said.

“I eat light,” Tommy said just before their lips met in a good morning kiss.

“I can tell and so do I,” Jim said after their embrace broke. “Now, scoot.”

“Yes, daddy,” Tommy said.

“I’m not your daddy and will never be your daddy,” Jim said with a bit of anger in his voice. He hated the concept of daddy/son relationships to the point where they practically turned his stomach. “If you want to continue this relationship, it will be as equals.”

“Oh, sure, we’re equals,” Tommy said coming out of the bathroom in one of the white terrycloth robes. “I’m still in college and you’re richer than fresh shit on a hot sidewalk.”

“How do you know I’m rich?” Jim asked. He knew he hadn’t said a word about his financial situation.

“Diego Trust Bank, I Googled you,” Tommy said. He walked over to Jim and took the old man in his arms. “I don’t know how many millions you’re worth, but I suspect, with the money you got out of your books and the movie deals and some lucky breaks on your investments, we’re talking at least eight figures.”

“Closer to nine,” Jim said, “but a lot of it is locked up in the Robert Charles Foundation.”

“Shit!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Could you love me, do you think?” Jim asked. “I know we don’t really know all that much about each other, other than you like older men and I like younger men. Could it happen?”

“And, you don’t want to be my daddy,” Tommy said.

“Definitely none of that crap,” Jim said. “You ever do that?”

“Yeah, when I was an undergraduate,” Tommy said. “He was sixty-eight and lived to seventy. Had a stroke when I was blowing him one night before bed, died right in the middle of an orgasm.”

“Fuck!” Jim exclaimed.

“I even let him spank me now and then,” Tommy admitted. “He asked permission to do it and we’d role play like I was a naughty boy who came home late from school. It was totally weird doing that shit, but, yeah, I fall in love with old guys.”

“And, we’d be equals,” Jim said.

“Just like husband and wife,” Tommy said.

“Well, you are the top here,” Jim said.

“And, you’re the best bottom I’ve come across in years,” Tommy said. “I’d fuck that ass for the rest of my life.”

“Unfortunately, I’m going to die before you,” Jim said.

“Don’t get your hopes up old man,” Tommy said. “I’m HIV positive.”

After returning from the hospital with Casey and Peter, Kevin told Eric he was going to bed. He took a quick shower and after finishing, he went back into the bedroom, but Eric was not there. Not bothering to put on his pajama bottoms, he went to the bed to wait for Eric.

He didn’t have to wait long as Eric came into the bedroom in only a few minutes.

“I figured you’d be in the mood for something,” he said.

Kevin watched his lover strip down to nothing and then slowly walk over to their bed. ‘A perfect specimen of a man,’ he thought, completely ignoring the arm that ended halfway down from the shoulder. Love was a mysterious thing and Kevin never questioned his love for Eric. It was a done deal from their first kiss so many years ago on Diego Island.

Now, with Six, their little family was complete. He dreamt of a time when the three of them could move to that piece of land in Montana and spend lazy summer days fly fishing in their creek and not caring if they caught anything.

Six’s cure was being called miraculous, including the foreskin that had been documented as being removed, the holes in the scrotum that had been sutured, the torn eyelid and scratched cornea, and the surgery wounds in his stomach and back. It was as if he hadn’t jumped into a clump of blackberry bushes at all. He was to come home tomorrow and likely would be able to go to school the following week; or anytime after they settled on what kind of psychiatric care Six was going to require.

Kevin returned his attention to Eric who had knelt between his legs and taken Kevin’s cock in his mouth. They figured early on that sex might become boring if they stayed with the same acts, so they began to alter things a bit. Since both were somewhat versatile in their desires, tastes, and responses, their repertoire slowly expanded. There was no pattern though and some nights there was no sex at all, except for a little mutual fondling.

Sex was signaled by one of them being naked in the bedroom when the other came in to retire. The naked partner could be anywhere, the couch, bed, floor, or leaning against the dresser with his legs spread, which was Eric’s favorite position. Kevin usually sat on the edge of the bed so that Eric could have access to his cock or the other way around. Neither knew what the other had planned.

Kevin leaned back on his hands as his cock began to slip down Eric’s throat. Eric knew this drove his partner wild which usually resulted in a quick come for Kevin. That left Eric to linger over Kevin’s body slowly extracting his own orgasm and savoring a sense of conquering the other man. It was one of the secrets he kept from Kevin.

Except, that is, for the lump in his prostate. He was going to have the biopsy next week and needed to have someone drive him home after the procedure. He pulled off of Kevin and stood.

“What?” Kevin asked.

“I have to tell you something,” Eric said as he sat down next to the love of his life. “I’ve been keeping something from you because I didn’t want you to start worrying while Six was in the hospital.”

Kevin made a start at saying something, but was cut off by Eric, “There’s a lump on my prostate and they’re going to do a biopsy on Wednesday afternoon. I’ll need someone to drive me home.”

Eric expected Kevin to breakdown and start crying as he was so emotional sometimes, but he just sat there.

“That probably explains why you’ve gone gray,” Kevin said. “I should’ve mentioned it earlier, but all this stuff with Six distracted me. Of course I’ll be there with you.”

They kissed briefly and lay down, each locked in the other’s revelation. Kevin wanted to hope for the best. He wanted to wish Eric well. He wanted their love until “Death doest part.” Quite possibly that was to occur, sooner than expected.

Prostate cancer detected early was fairly curable, but you have to have that finger in your ass test. He’d been doing it since his early thirties, with someone other than his regular doctor, and remembered mentioning that fact to Eric. His PSAs were always around 3.5; below the threshold for concern. He was nearly positive he spoke to Eric about the finger and the blood results, but he couldn’t remember Eric ever mentioning it to him.

Could he live without the light of his life? They planned on growing into old farts together who cruised gay bars up on the hill in their seventies and eighties; becoming characters of the night, albeit slow and slightly decrepit. That would show those kiddies a thing or two.

Their fondest dream was sitting on the front porch of the yet to be built ranch house in Montana. Eric would be an adjunct professor at the University of Montana and he would go back to writing children’s stories.

Charles House would go on without them, surviving with a new management program they were in the process of designing. In five years, Euphorbia might want to leave. In all likelihood Jim was not going to come back from New York. That City held too many fond memories for the old man for him to come back to a lonely old age. They were thinking of taking him and Euphorbia with them to Montana, but that was only if they didn’t find other paths toward the end.

Sleep was slow to come, but finally Kevin was lost in full color dreams that seemed so peaceful until Six showed up naked, pink, and with a raging erection. Kevin knelt and took it deep into his throat. A white cardboard box containing Eric’s ashes had been inadvertently knocked over spilling its contents. His own cock was now thrusting into Six’s perfectly formed ass, his orgasm building in his balls.

Kevin woke up in a sweat with a painful erection. Eric quietly slumbered beside him. He slipped out of bed, put on a robe, and went up to the boy’s suite. He felt like a second-story man eagerly seeking the family jewels. His hard-on ached for relief, but Kevin didn’t know what he was looking for. Euphorbia had already been in there cleaning and getting things ready for the boy’s return, which didn’t help Kevin one bit.

He removed the robe and began to lightly stroke his cock. What was he looking for? Then something caught his eye. It was under the bed, just visible behind the blue and white chenille bedspread hanging down toward the floor. He bent to pick it up. It was Six’s cum rag. He felt the crustiness of use. He put it to his nose and sucked in the faint essence of the boy. He tugged on his cock and spewed every drop of his being into the boy’s property.

He stood there naked feeling horrible about his action. What kind of pervert was he that he’d do such a despicable act? Yet, deep in the back of his mind there was a memory of him doing something similar to his younger brother’s (Six’s father) underwear one night on a visit from the state school. It was on the floor beside Michael’s bed. He thought it was his cum rag. That’s where you put those things.

He put the rag to his nose and breathed in deeply. He hadn’t consciously smelled himself in years. Eric always cleaned things up quickly and filled the bedroom with air freshener.

This is what he would give to Six.

Kevin stopped at the thought. What kind of pervert was he? Six was his nephew; you didn’t have sex with a boy. He was still seventeen and wouldn’t be eighteen until the eleventh of September, three weeks away.

Kevin put the rag back under the bed, put his robe back on, and walked out of the suite. He wanted to feel sickened by his act, but his mind was having none of it. Six was still pink and Kevin desired the boy’s body more than ever. To hell with him being his nephew, he would take the boy and Six would be his in the horrible memory of their perverted love for one another.

Meanwhile, in a dark hospital room a few miles away a young man was experiencing yet another out of body journey. This time though the trip wasn’t to a windblown tarn. It is to a room not too familiar. The mind’s eye stopped at the sight of a naked grown man, a man covered in a greenish glow.

Six’s eyes flashed open, breaking contact with the beyond. Uncle Kevin was jerking off in his room! Was this real? He’d done this enough before to know sometimes what you see isn’t the current truth, but some possibility, a potentiality that might occur if everything fell into place. Was that what this was? Or, was Uncle Kevin actually using his cum rag?

Six lay back and sought a calmer place for his mind.