Part 1
It started with a few yelps, the dogs next door were winding up. Tried to go back to sleep, but they kept yipping frantically, jumping against the chain link. I slipped on my boxers, sneakers.
Barking got louder, dogs going crazy to get over the back fence. Must be a possum in the trash cans. Grabbed the flashlight, phone on my way outside.
Shining the beam to the alley, I saw figures. Looked like a man and a kid. Then I recognized my brother’s pajama bottoms. He was on his knees in front of a man. Damn! Kelly was giving head.
Sprinted, slamming the gate open. “Get in the house Kelly.”
The old man immediately tucked his dick in as I pulled Kelly away. “Don’t let me catch you doing that again, perv!” I was pissed, that was Mr. Goodman from down the street.
“I want my three dollars.” Kelly called out with his big, brown deer-eyes opened wide.
I gave Goodman a hard look and grabbed his liver-spotted hand, “Pay up, jerk.” He dug around his pocket, counted off three dollars from a wad of bills. I saw twenties. “Blow jobs are forty tonight.” He flipped off a twenty while I cursed, then stopped, “Mrs. Goodman might be interested.…” Snapped a photo of him and Kelly; I didn’t let go of his wrist until he added another twenty..
The dogs continued the racket as Goodman shuffled back into the darkness.
Kelly grinned, “Forty-three dollars!”
“What were you — why were you doing that?” I headed him toward the house.
“Money.”
“I’ll give you money. What do you need?”
“Scratch-offs.”
“They sell you scratchers?”
“Yep, I’m older’n you.” He wiped spit off his chin. “Won seven dollars last week.”
“What did you buy?”
“Jerald stole it.”
“I told you to keep your money a secret.”
Jerald was Kelly’s coworker. They both worked minimum wage jobs, heavily supervised, cleaning restrooms at the county buildings. On payday, their supervisors demanded transportation costs from the crew. That left Kelly and the other workers with about ten dollars for the month.
“It keeps them out of trouble,” they said, “Meaningful daily activities — therapeutic.” Yeah, they were milking the government for therapy and the kids for their money — stinking thieves.
I grabbed the cash to hold for Kelly and went back to bed after I made him brush his teeth.
* * * *
The next morning, Mom was bustling around the house while I debated telling her about what happened. Better not, she’d probably start a safety diatribe — too early for that.
Wake up meds: Kelly was always smiley in the morning. Handing him the pills, “Kelly — Mom’s gonna be really mad. Sucking cock is sex. You’re not supposed to do it yet.”
I added that “yet” to let him know he wasn’t banned forever. “Don’t say anything. I’ll take you to the bodega for a scratcher after school. Okay?”
He stood up, rubbing his balls with one hand and putting the other around my neck and he kissed my chest. Kelly was childlike in a lot of ways. He could remember commercial jingles, but not his address; had to tape his phone number on his phone. If you promised him something he wanted, it was etched in his bones. Kelly is my special brother.
* * * *
When I got home from school, Kelly was waiting on the drive. Off we went into the oppressive heat of Mexico, Florida. Sidewalks reflected the fiery Florida sun; heat waves rose from the sticky asphalt. Inside the bodega was dark and cool. Kelly went straight to the lottery stand.
“Oh, the lottery…. You know what to do?” I stood by the narrow kiosk with the lottery slips and watched. He studied the signage and pointed at the mega jackpot. “You want that?”
“Yep. It’s ready.” I laid the ticket out in front of him and told him to darken the little squares of the numbers he wanted. Took him a long time. He was concentrating, biting his lower lip. Waited, checked my watch. Took five minutes for him to complete one slip, but he did it by himself.
At the register we paid and I put the rest of his money in my pocket. I turned to walk away. Kelly didn’t come — he was staring into the glass countertop over the scratch-off games.
His index finger came down on the glass over the safari scratchers. “Two safaris — wait.
Three.”
It was his money. Kelly took his house key from around his neck and immediately began scraping the gray goo and stared at them. From over his shoulder, I could see the first one didn’t show, then, the second showed; he won fifteen dollars. Last one paid out a buck.
The cashier who’d known us for years handed me the money. He knew Kelly’s history and congratulated him condescendingly.
“Wanna soda, Kel?”
“Whi-i-ite-donuts-an’-an-orange-soda….” Kelly shuffled his feet. That was his song and dance when he was proud of himself. Funny habit he made up with Dad years ago. He picked out his little white donuts and an orange pop and brought them to the register.
Dang if we didn’t walk home with about the same amount of cash in my pocket behind the lottery receipt.
* * * *
Kelly’s a short, wiry guy, moves slowly, and smiles often. Looked like the conquistador Pizarro; triangular face, light brown skin and wavy hair. Until he opened his mouth, he looked cool. As soon as he spoke, you could tell by the slight nasal tone and simple vocabulary, his load was missing a number of bricks.
In his brain, Kelly was about twelve, thirteen years old about most things. He was ten when he got hit by a car while riding his bike. Head injury — my brother was always doing weird things now and he always got away with it because he was cute and he had a disability.
Though he was two years older than me, I became the big brother.
After his accident, we put his hospital bed in the living room. Mom was in orbit around him. I was almost orphaned with all the attention given him.
Unwillingly, I became part of his care team. We learned how to turn him, and help him eat, and reteach him a lot of small things like brushing his teeth. In some ways, I liked it — like having a big robot to mess with. I played tricks on him but that hurt me, he was looking to me as a role model.
Dad became more distant while Kelly was relearning how to walk and speak. It was like Dad couldn’t bear seeing his first-born son laying in a protective helmet, braces, thin, babbling. Seeing Kelly like that broke something inside Dad. So, Dad was there — but not there. Alcohol was how he coped.
* * * *
Took the mega jackpot slip to the bodega, Kelly hit! Not the big prize, he won a hundred-fifty thou. Mom had to take the ticket, sign it and get the money because Kelly was confused about why they wouldn’t give him the money from the till. He was sure they were stealing his money.
Mom was super-protective about Kelly. Florida lists names and photos of the big winners to keep the lottery honest. She didn’t want Kelly bombarded with scams and grifters. In a wig and sunglasses, Mom got the paperwork squared away with the state while Kelly and I waited outside. Gave a post office box for an address to keep moochers away.
After taxes, she paid off the house leaving us around forty thousand. Mom wanted to invest it for Kelly’s future.
Dad was working through this time but as soon as the money was in the bank, he said he was going to Zapata County, Texas — a place called New Falcon. There was a dam on the rio, he’d drill a well, bring in the power and set up a trailer park for retirees. We would follow as soon as Dad got things lined up. There were nightly arguments over his trailer park dream.
Mom thought it a risky venture; Dad was sure we’d be set for life. Our ol’ man kept talking about cash streams from a washateria, convenience store, cafe and space rentals in the park. “We’ll never have to work again.”
He quit his job and left with the bank card while Mom worked the night shift at the cafe.
* * * *
Six months later, I graduated from high school and began looking for work. Not much available in a small tourist town in the heat of summer under the constant threat of a hurricane. A friend from high school got me on with him driving a truck delivering cleaning supplies.
At home, we were waiting to move to New Falcon. Dad texted occasionally saying he found acreage and was interviewing contractors.
Maybe Mom knew sending a drunk to a hot, dry part of the world with a wad o’ cash would only end up one way. She always hoped for the best. Dad stopped calling when the bank account was empty. Mom went online to look for him. Yeah, Dad bought land in Zapata County, Texas. We saw his name with a description of the property. He had to be nearby.
“Maybe one of us needs to get out there and find him.” Mom listed him missing with the sheriff in New Falcon.
Dad had bought thirty-two acres of desert with a small, dilapidated cabin. Kelly and I looked at the area online — cactus, mesquite, sand, snakes, scorpions and dust storms. Sure enough, there was a lake where the Rio Grande was dammed, photos of people fishing and water skiing.
“Where’s Dad?” Kelly asked, scrutinizing the photos.
“Yeah, that’s the question–where’s Dad?”
* * * *
At the kitchen table, Mom and I decided that I had to go to Texas. I could help Dad get things squared away if I could find him. If I couldn’t find him, we’d sell the land and hire a private detective to find him.
Road trip to Texas? Oh, yeah. We’d need another vehicle, I refused to drive the minivan.
I brought home a package of little white donuts Kelly liked and lured him outside, singing and shuffling, “Whi-i-ite-donuts-an’-an-orange-soda….” That got Kelly’s attention, and he started doing his dance with me.
“Bro, when you pick a scratcher, how do you know which is gonna pay?”
He looked at me like I was an idiot, “The numbers tell me. Those my donuts?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. Can you pick the right lottery numbers again?” Kelly’s luck could get me on the road quickly.
“Yep. Those my donuts now?”
We caught the bus before Mom got home and headed to the south end of town. My brother had been grinning all the way to the bodega, feeling lucky. Kelly hit seventy or eighty percent of the time. Came home with two-hundred dollars. He was on a roll; I was looking for a used truck.
The next day, same thing east of town. We were cleaning up on scratchers; higher priced tickets paid more.
The next Sunday, I took Kelly near Tyndall Base convenience stores. Came home with seven-hundred dollars. Texas and Dad were closer by the day.
It wasn’t till we were heading back to the house when I remembered Kelly’d probably have to pay taxes on his winnings. I had to swear him to secrecy and tell Mom someone used his ID. For now, he was happy with donuts, and a soda.
Still didn’t have enough money for a decent truck. When Mom got home that night, I asked her if Kelly could buy another lottery ticket — I had to go look for Dad. She grumbled. “Please Mom, he’s not hurting anyone but helping us out.”
After several minutes of wheedling and whining and reminding her that Dad could be hurt, though he was probably in jail, she relented.
“Only one, and only the state lottery. Please don’t go for the big one, I’m still getting beg-letters from the last time.”
I needed a road trip, and I wanted a red truck with an air conditioner and a camper, maybe a pair of cowboy boots.
* * * *
Immediately we went to the bodega, “How do you know which numbers to pick on the slips?” I asked as we went inside.
“I can see them, sometimes hear them. Then I look for the same numbers on the scratchers. Paper slips are slower. I have to wait for the numbers to get into their little boxes.”
“Where are all these numbers now?”
“All over. In the window there’s a green four. Across the street, black six on the door of the jeep, big red five by the door.”
I couldn’t see any.
From there he explained that numbers had genders, roles and personalities as well as being odd and even. Several numbers were kind of god-like; numerical royalty. Tried to find some pattern in his elaborate scheme but couldn’t. Kelly had favorites like twenty-three and ninety-four; seventy-seven was a stinker.
He went to the kiosk, picked out the slip but stopped and looked at it closely. No. That wasn’t going to pay this week, “It’s cold.” He picked out a different slip, `Money for Life.’ Mom could get a lump-sum.
I stepped to the side to watch him as he went down each row with the tip of the tiny pencil until he’d completed the slip, then closed his eyes and thought. Finally, he came out of his trance and picked the additional number to double his winnings.
On the way out, I slipped the receipt into my wallet with a good feeling I’d be on the road soon. As always, “Whi-i-ite-donuts-an’-an-orange-soda” all the way home.
Two days later, Kelly hit again. Not the jackpot, but five-thousand doubled to twenty. After the state and feds sucked off their cut, Mom and I found a truck with a small camper and we worked out the cost for me to live out of the small space behind the cab for a few nights. That left plenty for gas and incidentals.
Washed out the ice chest, packed, I was anxious to get out of Mexico, Florida and on the real Mexican border. For the first time in my life, I’d be free, completely on my own till I found Dad.
* * * *
The night before I left, Kelly asked me where I was going.
“Texas. Gotta find Dad. You remember Dad? Remember all the beer cans we recycled? He’s down there with the snakes and the scorpions.”
His gears started spinning, “No. You can’t go.” Kel was starting to breathe fast, getting agitated.
“Look, I’m leaving all my dark socks and my dress shirts. Maybe you’ll find a girlfriend.”
He put his arms around me, “Don’t leave.” He was starting to cry, gasping. Sudden changes disturbed him.
Took him to the bed, lay down beside him and we had a brotherly conversation: “I got to go find Dad. Mom didn’t make us alone, she had Dad. Remember, a man and a woman take their clothes off and love each other. Remember about sex and making babies? I got to find that man that made us with Mom. Hey, you got friends. You’ll be alright.”
His wiener got hard because I said “sex,” and he didn’t answer me. I’d better check this out: “You keep your dick in your own pants?”
No answer.
“You got a girlfriend?”
“Sorta.” He turned his head.
“You two gettin’ it on?” I squeezed his shoulder, “Who is she?”
His lips moved but no sound came out; his deer-eyes looked worried, his eyes shifting rapidly.
“What’s her name?” Tears filled his eyes, and he had that woebegone look. “What’s her name? I won’t tell anyone.” His lips were moving again, but still nothing coming out.
Squeezing him against me, “Tommy” came out. His eyes looked into mine.
“Tommi Mendez, down the street?” Cute little neighborhood gal — she was only twelve or so. Not good.
“Tommy from the cleaning crew.” He whispered. “The guy Tommy.”
“Oh.” The air became very still and silent. Kelly was exploring his sexuality. Maybe that was it. Just delayed experimentation…. Did his brain damage extend to his heart? “Are you in love?”
“It’s real good.”
“Do you guys, uh, do you fuck?”
“Sorta… Kissing and rubbing. Shootin’ off.”
“Oh.” I wondered if he knew all the words for the things they did, but the guys were sexually active. “Did the staff catch you?”
“We go behind the warehouse during lunch.”
“Does Tommy hurt you, take your money, bully you?”
“He bought me a donut last week. Tommy says he loves me.” His rod was making a wet spot on his boxers just thinking about his boyfriend. He hunched against me several times, came all over, made a sticky mess. Then kissed my chest and fell asleep as his meds pulled him to dreams.
* * * *
The next morning as I dressed in the dark, he made me promise he could visit me in Texas, “Let’s see what works out, but I got to make sure Dad’s okay. Remember, we talked about Dad?”
“You have to call me.” He started mumbling and fidgeting around, “I want to go to Texas.” This was the first time he’d be without me. First time I’d be without him.
“I’ll call.” He clung to me while Mom watched, she was going to miss me helping her with Kelly but my mind was focused on the freedom of the road.
* * * *
Coast was beautiful; Biloxi, then the causeway, and finally Texas. Didn’t stop till I was past Houston. Found a rest stop and pulled in to sleep. When I woke it was raining; dismal, gray sky.
Called from the camper while I ate, Kelly answered the phone. After about fifteen minutes of hearing him tell me how terrible his life was when I was gone, “I gotta come visit.”
“Hey, I ain’t there buddy. Can you remember why I came out here?”
Silence.
“We got a dad, remember? I’m going to find him.”
“When can I come?” When Kelly got excited, he focused on one thing and didn’t let go. Mom chuckled in the background.
“Look. I’m going to send you some pics, you decide if you still want to come. Gonna be hot and dry — no trees.”
“I can help.” Couldn’t recall another time when Kelly offered his help — he was always on the receiving end.
Part 2
Headed inland, met lotsa retirees. They helped me find Dad’s small cabin at the end of a dirt road outside of New Falcon. No electricity, no running water, plenty of sand and sun.
Arrived to find partiers had used the ancient, single-room cabin a while back. Left the old metal frame cot, beer cans; trash. No one had been here in quite a while; everything was covered with dust.
Back in New Falcon, I went to the sheriff’s department, and filed another missing person report..
At a junk store I found a foam camping mattress, a heavy blanket. Bought a solar phone charger. I’d stay in the cabin — it was enough for me. Quiet, no one to bother me while I figured out what I had to do next.
Before I left town, I went into the only two bars in the area and one liquor store; showed photos of Dad around. No one recognized him, but the gal at a liquor store said that he may have jumped the border, “Cheap booze in Mexico.”
* * * *
Never occurred to me that I had neighbors so far out. The cabin sat almost dead center in the acreage. But, sure enough two dusty trucks rolled in before the sun set. People checking me out.
An elderly couple lived over a rise, about two miles south. After showing them the photos of Dad, they shook their heads, “No one’s lived in this cabin for,” he scratched his chin, “Eight or ten years now.” The strangest thing they did was to show me small, flat, round cacti that looked more like rocks than plants, “The pickers come through and they’ll kill you if you try to stop them. You got a gun?”
“Nah.” What they said frightened me: “pie-you-tay”, they called it. Dealers came through to harvest peyote buttons. These two neighbors were ecologists and told me to leave the native plants alone. Since I didn’t plan on landscaping, I nodded.
The hallucinogenic cactus grew all around the cabin. Should I get a gun?
The other neighbor, a salty old guy, didn’t recognize my father either. He told me that if I didn’t get the back taxes paid on the land, the county was going to take it. “Had my eye on this place for quite a while.”
This land was bought from Kelly’s strange lottery system, I had to keep it. “Do you know someone looking to hire?”
* * * *
When you sweat in Florida, your clothes get wet, start chafing. In Zapata County, Texas sweat dries and leaves a coat of salt on your skin. I found that out working at the convenience store on the highway. Spent the first half the day outside cleaning, emptying trash and restocking the displays; rest of the day cleaning and cashiering. Minimum wage, but good enough with all the junk food I could swipe.
Called Mom, “I got a job. Staying in the cabin until I get enough together to cross the border to look for Dad. No one around here’s seen him. Neighbors say the cabin’s been empty for years.”
She told me that I shouldn’t be in the desert alone — kinda nice to hear her worrying about me. “Let’s set a time limit — say thirty days. No more, then come home if you can’t find him.”
“Mom, it may take a while — I want to ask around in some of the other small towns nearby. Thing is, Dad must have asked for a grace period to pay the back taxes when he bought the land. I gotta pay that off.”
She thought for a moment, “Hmm. Find your dad and let’s get what we can out of this mess. Say forty-five to sixty days. Kelly’s climbing the walls — he’s mooning around the house talking about you and he needs some photos, call him when you can.”
Took a lot of photos of the most desolate landscapes I could find and sent them and called Kelly: “You still working?”
“Yeah, but I have to visit you. I can help.” He sounded like he was getting agitated again.
“Awful hot out here. Did you see the photos?”
“Don’t have to mow and you got plenty of rocks. Pretty rocks.”
Hadn’t thought about the mowing. He kept begging and pleading until I cracked, “I’ll see what I can do. Gotta save some money first.”
Started calling him every night, I missed the brother that depended on me. He made me feel like a full adult when I wasn’t yet nineteen.
* * * *
If I watched my money, kept the truck running and stayed in the cabin, I could make it through the sixty days or until I found Dad. County let me put the taxes on payments otherwise they wouldn’t get anything, so I carefully budgeted and bought a small kerosene lantern.
There was an ancient well behind the cabin, though the pipe had rusted. I called my salty old neighbor over. We got it working with a PVC sleeve and a hand-pump that took twenty hard pushes to get any water. Cold, sweet water.
Now I could address Kelly’s visit.
He’d never had a vacation, probably never would. A thought came. I’d harvest pie-you-tay to buy Kelly a bus ticket here, pay the back taxes and take him home with Dad.
Great plan, or maybe the sun had broiled my brain.
* * * *
Went into a seedy bar after work with baggies each containing a heavy slice of cactus. Didn’t take long to leave with a hefty roll in my pocket. Bought a gun on the parking lot — a flare gun. I figured that would scare off any potential problems and alert the neighbors if someone followed me to the cabin.
A few days later, I went to the bus station and called Mom, “Write on the front of his shirt that he’s going to New Falcon, Texas. He’ll forget.” I got the bus ticket online, forwarded it to Mom. She was apprehensive but agreed — Kelly was driving her nuts. He’d ask her repeatedly about me and when he was going to help me.
Mom had never had a vacation either; figured I was doing everyone a favor.
* * * *
While I continued working, Kelly got on the bus in Florida. He was delayed in New Orleans — got confused and someone found him, took him to security. Luckily, Mom had put his tickets in the plastic sleeve with his ID and made him wear it around his neck.
She texted me his revised schedule and I was waiting at the bus station for him on a Sunday afternoon. When he alighted from the bus, he started crying and hugging me, telling me he missed me.
“Change gears, bro. You don’t miss me now, do you?” I handed him an orange pop, white donuts. He pulled his shirt up, blew his nose, and got in the truck.
All the way out of town and down the dirt road, Kelly was smiling. “Heard you got lost in New Orleans.”
“That old man in the bathroom, he didn’t taste like Tommy.”
“What?” Kelly explained how he blew a guy in the back stall, security caught them at the pinnacle of pleasure. They chased the man out of the station. Kelly had to stay with the security guard until his bus arrived.
When we got to the cabin, “Where’s the house?” Kelly looked left and right..
“This is it.” He didn’t remember the photos I sent.
* * * *
Showed him how to charge his cell phone, explained that he couldn’t leave the area when I wasn’t around; he had to keep the cabin within sight if he went outside. “If you can’t see the chimney, go to a high place and look around. Follow your footprints back if you can — keep your phone in your pocket.”
Then I showed him how to pump water.
Gave him a plastic bag to pick up all the trash that blew through the area through the years. “I’ll bring donuts if you clean things up. You got to stay safe till next weekend — we’re going to Mexico to look for Dad.”
“We’re going home?” He was confused.
Found his meds and doled out two. “No. There’s another place called Mexico, the grand nation of Mexico. They speak Spanish and make great food.” Kelly wasn’t sure–two Mexicos overloaded his brain.
That night, I tossed my sleeping bag on the floor for Kelly and took the narrow cot.
“There’s scorpions and rattlesnakes. They’re gonna bite.” He didn’t want to sleep on the floor. Funny how his memory clicked on.
“They don’t bite in the dark.”
“They’re going to bite me. I can hear them chomping air looking for me.”
“Get up here and get to sleep, I have to work in the morning.” He snuggled up to me the same way as when we were kids, the size difference on the small bed didn’t seem to register with him.
* * * *
Got him up early and took him out behind the cabin where I’d transplanted a row of peyote. Didn’t tell him it was there. “Pee on that row of rocks.” Our pee ran down and gave them a little moisture.
I left him with strict instructions to call if anyone came by or he was scared. “Stay in the cabin when it’s hot during the day — food’s in the cooler. I’ll bring dinner at around five.”
Put the flare gun in my truck, in case the rattlesnakes and scorpions began chomping air again. “Five days and we’re going to look for Dad in Mexico.”
“Yep, Grand Mexico.”
* * * *
Didn’t think he could get into much trouble; I worried anyway. Called him at noon, he said he was resting.
Stopped for barbecue; pulled in and found Kelly really did pick all the trash out of the creosote bushes; bottles and cans were bagged.
Kelly made it through the week with only a sunburned nose. He’d begun stacking mounds of rocks by color, red, white, yellow, and “stripey.” I asked him where he found the rocks. Seems he stayed near the cabin. “Good job. You’re civilizing the place.”
Before dinner, we cleaned up outside with a bucket of cool water and a cup. He liked that — standing outside naked, in a hot breeze, me pouring water over him. “Work that bar of soap.”
I gotta tell ya’, Kelly was hung like a bull — looked funny, he was so skinny, like he got the wrong package. He scrubbed and was fully erect, a beautiful silhouette against the sunset. I rinsed him and gave his foreskin a little tug. His rod shook and four thick ropes of cum shot onto my thighs.
I’d cleaned him often enough — nothing new
As I rinsed myself, Kelly watched me. Sure, I was hard — my eighteen-year-old dick was always hard. Without a word, he knelt on the damp sand and took my rod in his mouth and began sucking. This wasn’t right, and it felt so damn good. I let him suck me and I came hard as the water evaporated.
When I caught my breath, “We’re not supposed to do that.”
“I’m never supposed to do anything.”
Sex was going to be a problem all his life — no one wanted him to make children, get an infection or go professional. Kelly was frustrated by prohibitions that other men didn’t have. Wasn’t sure what to do with his feelings about Tommy but being a gay man with his disability could put him in some dicey situations.
Had to think about that, and for now, we had obligations to Dad, the county, and I was the designated adult.
That night, he lay beside me, “You like it here?”
“I’m helping.”
“You miss Tommy?” He was already asleep, cradling me in his arms. Threw the blanket over us and fell asleep.
Part 3
The next morning we left for Mexico. Crossed at Eagle Pass into Piedras Negras. At the border crossing, we were stopped; ID check.
“Have you seen this guy?” I showed them a photo of Dad. Several of the other inspectors came over to see what the border official was looking at. No one recognized Dad’s face.
One of them explained that I should ask a cop, “Look for a uniform around the market. They’ll point you to the station. File a report.”
Just as hot, just as dusty as Texas and the grand nation of Mexico is different. Bright colors and vendors lined the streets of the busy border town. I turned the radio to a Mexican station; the accordions and brass blared. Kelly got excited as we neared a big parking lot for the open-air
Market. “Wow! Look at all the numbers.” Astonished, “They’re everywhere.”
As we walked past a few shops, “Look. It says lotería — lottery, right?” Now he was translating Spanish or was it his drive for white donuts?
“Gotta take care of business first.” I wasn’t sure about the Mexican lottery but it looked like they had the same games. With a quick check on the exchange rate, any winnings would bring about half as much in American dollars.
“Do you think you can feel a good scratcher like you do at home?”
Kelly nodded exuberantly.
We went into a dulceria. Had to pull him past the chocolate and candied fruits. Kelly stared at the stacks of scratchers, I plunked down five dollars to win a possible hundred. He hit and we left with two bags of candy and a thick roll of pesos.
* * * *
The outdoor market was covered, shady. Needed soap and got a tee shirt for Mom. A short, female officer’s uniform caught my eye. I asked directions to the police station. She took one of our bags and drew a simple map for us. Smiling at Kelly, she asked, “Where are you from?”
“Mexico.” Kelly answered, smiling with a mouth full of neon-pink coconut macaroon.
She started a flirtatious diatribe with gestures and everything, all in Spanish.
“Mexico, Florida. Not here.” I pulled him toward the street and on to the police station.
* * * *
Police in a border town are used to Americans looking for someone. I showed Dad’s picture to them, and then sent it to their computer. They helped me complete the missing person’s report and told me they’d attach the photo. Very helpful, “Gracias.”
We bought a few more scratch-offs at several of the small bars where I showed Dad’s photo around and won plenty of bucks for dinner. Kelly enjoyed the chips and salsa and ordered a big steak with guacamole. Ate all that and half of my tamales.
* * * *
Next week Kelly learned how to wash clothes and dry them on the piñon bushes. His rock collection expanded. He decided he wanted to put them in a design around the house. Carefully marked out a parking space and our paths to our litter box and the well.
Rocks were arranged by relationship. They were in a numerical-familial order, I nodded — looked random to me.
We went down to Grand Mexico again. Kelly was hot to play the lottery again. Kelly wanted his treats. They didn’t have the little donuts Kelly liked, but he found a lot of other pastries in a bakery and piled them high on a big tray. Sent pictures to Mom and told her we loved her, still awaiting word on Dad.
Kept my job and won enough on the last trip to Grand Mexico to pay down the taxes with the county — not off, but down.
* * * *
The call came while I was at work. Had to hand my phone to the other cashier, she spoke Spanish. Almost immediately she signaled me to get a pen and paper. It was a long conversation, maybe Dad was in jail.
When she got off the phone, “The morgue in Nogales wants you to come, they have a body.”
Had to calculate this — if it was Dad’s body, I’d have to pay for transport, cremation, all that, then I was only partially paid up with the back taxes. Damn, I couldn’t get out of the hole.
If it wasn’t Dad, where was he?
We needed to win the lottery again and get out of New Falcon. This unbearable heat and my first taste of freedom was filled with worrying about Kelly and dealing with the finances of this fiasco.
* * * *
That night,I was unsure if I should tell Kelly about identifying a dead body that might be Dad. Kelly was a man, and this would be his major life event as well..
On my phone I got a map and showed him Nogales. “It’s like Piedras Negras where we went to the candy store, remember?”
“When?” He was getting excited., “I like Grand Mexico. Why doesn’t Grand Mexico have white donuts?”
“Because they like their own junk better.” I hesitated, then forged ahead, “Kelly, we’re going to a morgue — they have a dead body that might be Dad. Do you want to go into a morgue with me?” I explained that Dad’s body might be a mess, or it could be someone else. Either way, it would be ugly.
He didn’t say anything, thinking.
“You can go to the truck if you get upset.”
“Dad?” He seemed confused. We both silently looked at the photo of Dad on my phone. Kelly was concentrating, trying to absorb the concept of death, loss and whatever he’d heard. “Or a dead man?”
“Yeah, maybe Dad, maybe not. We’ll have to stop and sleep in the camper a coupla nights. If you don’t want to go, I’ll ask the neighbors to watch you while I’m gone.”
He didn’t say anything, so I broached the subject, “If it’s Dad, it’s going to cost a lot of money to get his body back here. Have you seen any numbers lately?”
No answer. Kelly went outside to clean up by himself. Following him, I asked if he was upset.
“If Dad’s dead, am I an orphan?”
“As long as Mom’s alright, we’re not orphans. Let’s call her.” We cleaned up and I gave her the news.
“You boys be careful in Mexico. Let me know how much cash you need, I’ll find it somehow; take a loan, ask for an advance, something. Hurry home, I miss my guys.”
Maybe it was pride, I wanted Mom to know I could handle things, that meant I had to pull some cash together fast. I didn’t need Kelly’s numbers; I could sell pie-you-tay again. As long as I didn’t linger in the bars, I could pay off all the taxes with bucks to spare.
* * * *
In plastic gloves, with a small knife to harvest, I brought the slices back to the house with Kelly wondering and watching. Told him it was a medicinal plant used to treat chilaquile-dosis. “Strong medicine, awful disease. Don’t touch it!” Slicing and bagging, I told him I’d be coming
home late tomorrow night, “You gonna be alright, bro?”
“In the dark?”
“Probably, but I’ll bring donuts and pop. Don’t light the lamp — use the flashlight till I get back.” I had to sell in a hurry so he didn’t sit with the scorpions and snakes chomping air.
“Okay.” He sounded unsure and his expression was fretful.
We went out and washed in the setting sun, grateful for warm water. Maybe it was because his body was so familiar, I admired him — he was a beautiful man, slender and lightly tanned.
He seemed anxious until, “Does Nogales have white donuts?” Things seemed to be working out in his mind.
After his meds, we lay together. I pulled my phone out to look through photos of Florida. Looked at the photos of our dad, he was a handsome guy. Straight nose, rich, dark skin and wavy hair; used to smile all the time. Was he really dead? I hoped not, he might pull me out of this mess — being an adult is tiring.
“Didn’t he used to tickle me a long time ago?” Kelly asked.
“Yeah. He loved us; said he did.” Kelly was rubbing his erection on my thigh. “Do you miss Tommy?”
He moved around and began sucking my cock, prying my legs apart. He spit on his middle finger several times and nuzzled his face into my package while his finger went to my asshole.
“What are you doing?” This was wrong, but I kinda didn’t want it to stop.
He started sucking my hard shaft and shoving his skinny finger up my butt. .
Sure, I’d seen it in porn but wasn’t so sure about anything up my butt.
It was uncomfortable for a while except for getting some great head. Breathed hard for a few moments. Suddenly, fireworks were popping off deep inside me — through my torso. This was the cum I’d waited for all my life. Didn’t seem to end — almost an out-of-body feeling. I was still buzzing and breathing hard when Kelly climbed on me, rubbing his cock against my softening rod until he trembled and left a heavy load.
Fell asleep right on top of me.
* * * *
Sold twelve baggies. We were flush, though I was antsy holding so much cash. Hid it under the spare tire in the camper.
Through the next week, Kelly found more rocks and stacked them here and there. Said the numbers told him where to put them.
I’m sure they did, “Those numbers got style.”
* * * *
The morning we left for Nogales, I called Mom. She said she had a bad feeling about this trip. “Send a photo from the morgue if you’re not sure.” She told me she’d find a way to pay the back taxes, “Just come home. I’m getting really worried..”
“Got it covered, Mom. Kelly’s right here with his donuts. Won’t be much longer.”
We stopped for hamburgers and shakes while the asphalt cooled down, then crawled in the camper. Thought Kelly was asleep when I opened up a porn site and watched two men butt fucking — is that what he was doing with Tommy? Even without the volume it aroused me and I began jerking off to a guy getting a thorough rimming.
Kelly moved around and lay his hand over my chest. I turned to kiss his forehead. He was a good brother, gentle and kind. I felt his eyelashes on my skin and his finger went to the screen of my phone. “That man looks like me.”
* * * *
Before sunrise, we headed to the border. Got there just in time for the morning traffic jam. Border patrol gave us the address to the morgue. At the Nogales courthouse we were escorted into the basement. A nice gal checked our ID, then I looked at Kelly, “It could be Dad, and it could be upsetting.”
He kept looking away, anxious.
“Okay. Stay here.” I left him at the desk.
My stomach churned as she pulled out a long, heavy drawer. The body was pale and waxy-looking. There was trauma on the guy’s face; swollen, misshapen and still bloody — the blood smears had turned black along the curve of the steering wheel where it hit his face. Couldn’t be completely sure if it was Dad. I took a photo and sent it to Mom.
“Can you tell me where you found this guy?” I asked the attendant.
“Vehicular accident outside of town.”
“Anyone else in the car?” You know what I was thinking.
“He was alone, I believe. It’s on the accident report.”
Mom texted that she wanted a photo of the top of his left foot. “He has a mole on his middle toe and his little toe on the same foot is missing the nail.”
There was the mole and a smooth little toe. “My mom recognizes the mole and the lost nail — it’s him.”
Went back up front. “It’s Dad. You stay here.” The clerk for the morgue made a copy of the information surrounding Dad’s death and handed it to me with a plastic bag containing his gutted wallet and a few odds and ends. The report and death certificate were all in Spanish. I stuck them in the bag, went to the truck and pulled some cash out.
They put Dad’s body in a big, thick plastic bag and we hauled it to the local crematorium ourselves, gave them the address and paid them for their service with instructions to send the ashes to Mom.
We’d found Dad. No tears, no sadness, it happened so fast.
* * * *
Next, pay all the back taxes and go home. I needed to give my employer at least a week’s notice and secure the cabin. Kelly seemed alright with everything so far. “We’re going back to Mexico. You okay with that?”
“Grand Mexico?”
“We’re going back home in about a week.” He was quiet but became upset as we pulled in near the cabin.
“Someone moved the rocks.” Kelly’s face twisted into an angry look, he started breathing fast.
Closer, the cabin door was standing open, everything ransacked inside. Flashlight in hand, “Get what you want to keep. We gotta stay in town tonight.” I suspected the pickers. They might be
close by; I stuck the flare gun in my belt.
We grabbed our few things and left. Got a hotel room and left Kelly sleeping the next morning as I went to work. At noon he called and said he was hungry. On my way to the courthouse, I dropped off donuts and soda. He wanted to come with me to pay off the taxes. Mom had to call and verify things, but I did it — we were ready to go home.
I was late back to work but apologized to my boss telling him I had to leave that day. “Sorry. Got to take my brother home.” Kelly and I went back out to the cabin and I sent Mom a lot of photos for listing the land on the market.
Kelly got agitated about leaving his rocks. “Okay! Okay! Go get five rocks, and put them in the camper.” Kelly took an hour selecting rocks, speaking with them softly.
Five rocks turned out to be around twenty with a bag of pebbles he thought were “super cool.” While I pumped water over my head and picked up the last of the trash scattered around the cabin, he arranged the rocks in the camper so they would be comfortable after leaving their friends.
Finally, we left.
Part 4
When we stopped for gas, Kelly wanted donuts. Being a creature of strong habits, he only ate one brand. I found out that two large chocolate-filled donuts from a real doughnut shop sent him to heaven. The brand of pop didn’t matter, but it had to be orange-colored and chilled. Kelly’s requirements often delayed us.
Stopped in Houston for fried catfish, then in New Orleans for big bowls of gumbo. Nights in decent hotels were great. Cock-hound Kelly liked porn on the tube. He wanted to try some of the moves he saw. On me. Wasn’t so sure about that….
He began whining and acted miffed saying I didn’t love him if I didn’t let him try. On the other hand, I didn’t want him with strangers.
Porn actors play to the camera. Real life sex was different. I was on my knees, face pressed into the sheets, holding my ass open while Kelly fiddled around my butt. Couldn’t get his tool in. That’s what he wanted. Had to give it up until I told him to use several fingers first. He balked.
Kelly watched me as I shoved my thumb in my butt, “You’re supposed to be the one doing this if you wanna fuck.” I grunted.
He went to the bath, grabbed the small bottle of lotion and oiled me, then stuck the little bottle in my ass. “Don’t push it all the way in!”
This didn’t look or feel like sex to me, but I’d already half way down the road to complete damnation. “Okay, pull it out and push your cock in as fast as you can!”
He wasn’t hard but was inspecting my ass closely as he pulled the small bottle out. “You got a pretty asshole, a lot of hair–makes little `o’s all over your valley.” He kissed my butt cheek and lay down. By this time, I was over-stimulated; need overwhelmed me.
“Your turn.” I rolled him on his back and pushed his knees up, oiled his butt and worked a finger inside him. “You like that?”
“Tommy does it better.” I ignored that, his erection was filling, starting to bob around and leak.
With two fingers in him, “Is that better?”
“Rub the feel-good place.” He grunted.
Searching with my fingertips, I finally found the right place. Kelly was breathing hard, stroking his shaft. I slipped a third finger inside him.
“Ow!” He looked up at me.
“It looked like this on the video.” What did I know? “Get ready.” I held my tight, red glans at his hole and shoved, then stopped.
He got the “deer-eyes” again and started to cry but he wasn’t saying anything. I waited a few seconds, smearing lotion generously, then sneaked my rod slowly inside my brother, watching his face. He glanced up at me several times.
“You like that?”
“Not yet.”
“I gotta to get off.”
He nodded and winced as I began pumping into him, the first time I felt a hot grip around my hard shaft and I tried holding back; didn’t work. My rigid dick couldn’t get enough. Looking down, watching my sweat drop on his face didn’t reduce that great feeling. Then, I shoved a few times and stopped, feeling my cum burst into him.
His face changed for a moment, then a small smile. “You shot off.” He whispered and his eyes glazed over.
I pulled out quick; he didn’t like it but I felt great and my arms were tired. I held him against me and kissed his forehead. “Thanks.”
He kissed my lips, then fell asleep, and I went to shower, still dizzy from a super-charged orgasm. Along with the hot water, a lot of guilt rained down. Incest, taking advantage — I wasn’t any better than ol’ man Goodman in the alley or Mr. New Orleans in the last stall.
* * * *
The next morning, Kelly was laughing as he sat on the toilet farting. It tickled him. In the shower, I stuck my finger up his butt and used the shower hose, removing the evidence. He liked that so I figured he was alright.
Went for donuts and then I stopped at a beach. Gay, disabled and with a perv for a brother would break Mom’s heart. He loved me and I loved him, had to keep our bond strong. “Kelly, I love you.” The sun beat down on us and the white sands, “What we do in bed… we got to keep it secret.”
“Secret fucking?” He said, spitting doughnut crumbs and the dusty white sugar.
“Yeah. Can’t tell anyone about us–what we did last night.” Looking out over the ocean, “You’re gay — do you know what that means?”
“I don’t need a girlfriend?”
“Kinda like that. But it means you have to be careful who you’re around. If someone starts bad-mouthing you, calling you a fairy or a fag, you have to leave. They could hurt you.” He didn’t seem bothered. “Most important thing is don’t tell Mom you don’t need a girlfriend, or that Tommy is your boyfriend. Okay? Personal stuff. Keep it to yourself.”
Pulling a bag of tart candies out of my pocket, I held them out. “Promise you won’t say anything about fucking last night? I could get into big trouble and go to jail. Fucking is sex and sex is personal, keep it secret.”
He nodded, his lips ringed with doughnut crumbs as he popped a candy in his mouth. “Fucking is sex. Keep it secret.” He chuckled.
When we got to Tallahassee, I called Mom and told her we’d be there tomorrow, “Kelly brought you some rocks.”
“How sweet. Be careful on the road.” She told me she would be working late.
* * * *
Gee, it felt good to pull in our driveway. Trees, shade, moisture, I didn’t mind sweating and feeling it drip as we unloaded the rocks. Washed the last of the sand from Zapata County out.
Kelly hauled his rocks, smiling. His world was familiar, comfortable again.
Before Mom came home, I quizzed him again on what not to say. He seemed to catch on, repeating it to me. I lay down for a nap with Florida breezes cooling us. My old bed felt good underneath me, but better when Kelly came and lay alongside me. I realized I’d taken care of The mess in Texas; Dad’s body, back taxes and Kelly. Proud for those things, but not proud about fucking Kelly.
Mom came in and woke us with the smell of fried shrimp; brought us a seafood dinner from the cafe. Kelly kissed her and pulled her outside to see his rocks. He’d stacked them by the sidewalk in their correct order.
“Lovely! And my guys are home. I was so worried.” She kissed us and hugged us again and again. She was so happy, smiling; looked great wearing a pink skirt and sandals, her hair was cut short and her blouse — what there was of the short, bright top had parrots printed all over it. Not her usual motherly attire.
* * * *
After dinner I brought the plastic bag with Dad’s papers. I gave her the title to the land, described how we lived in the cabin. Said nothing of any pie-you-tay.
She went to get her laptop and contract with a real estate agent to list the New Falcon property.
As she keyed in the details, “What are we going to do with the money after we sell the land?” I asked.
“Kelly’s not going to go back to work. He hates it and the supervisors harass the kids.” She kept typing for a moment, then stopped and looked at me. “They called me from his work and told me they got the boys on the security cameras playing with each other sexually. Those clods laughed at the boys. My Kelly deserves his dignity. He’s not going back there.”
“Kelly was playing around with a guy? You think he’s gay?” I acted innocent.
“Probably. He’s been that way since he was about ten. I suspected, but what could I do? He’s my son. I love him.”
“Well, how about that…” Still acting innocent. “You’re not upset?”
“Of course not. Here’s the plan. There’s another program. I want him to be where he can make good friends, where they’ll teach him some real skills. It’s expensive. We’ll sell the land and put him in that program. You need to get your smart butt into college — get a good job.”
We made a decision: one more shot at the big bucks. I’d ask Kelly to pick the numbers. If we got lucky, Kelly could have this better program, I could go to college and Mom wouldn’t have to worry about being broke until we sold the land. The future looked shiny, bright like Mom’s new sandals and earrings.
“Mom are you seeing someone?”
Without even looking up from her computer, “You better know it.” She winked.
* * * *
“Whi-i-ite-donuts-an’-an-orange-soda.” I did his little dance as I asked Kelly to go to the bodega with me to play the lottery. He didn’t want to; told me it wasn’t time. Had to give him donuts and pop for that information.
Two weeks later he came and told me it was time to buy the ticket. He didn’t keep track of it, but I watched through those weeks as the jackpot built to an incredible amount. Damn slim odds, but five bucks wouldn’t hurt us. Before I walked him down to the bodega, he stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked each rock he’d brought back from New Falcon.
Kelly was no fool about the donuts and pop. I had to buy them before he picked the numbers. I noticed it took longer, but Kelly was grinning handing me the slip.
That night, Mom and I stayed up late to watch the results. Damn, the jackpot was over fifty million. We were floored — Kelly hit again. Didn’t know if I would faint or explode as we checked our numbers again and again. Mom and I danced around the living room while Kelly snored down the hall.
Immediately, Mom got on her phone and soon a dark-skinned, barrel-chested man was knocking on the door. Some guy she knew from the restaurant. He was a former mortgage banker.
* * * *
“This is Mr. Naroosh, Babak Naroosh.” The man suggested how to invest the money and get an advisor and something about trust funds and bonds. As I went to bed, I was thinking about our family walking away with seventy percent after taxes. Suddenly we were uber-rich.
The next day, reality landed. Twelve other people hit with the same numbers. Fifty million would be split between us, but we were still ahead of the game.
This time, Mom and Babak told me to take Kelly for new clothes and a haircut. Babak gave me five hundred dollars in cash, meet them at the lottery office. We arrived looking like we already had the prize.
We claimed the winnings as my income so no one would find out about Kelly’s rock-number system. Babak wanted to go to Tallahassee, I wanted to go to Jacksonville for dinner. Wound up at the cafe where Mom worked because Kelly liked the curly fries.
* * * *
Mom went condo shopping; she wanted a place near the cafe because she became co-owner. When she told Kelly we were moving, he balked. He was attached to the old house–something about the rocks again.
We were flummoxed until Mom surrendered. “You two can live there, we’ll remodel. Will you stay with Kelly while you’re in school? All this money means you have to be smarter about keeping it.”
Sounded good. I could finally date, get a degree while Kelly was in his new program. Party hardy! “I’ll do my best, Mom.”
First night on our own, here comes Kelly with his pillow and blanket. Nothing chompin’ air, just feeling lonely. Humped my side and fell asleep.
Next morning, I found a cluster of rocks in his bed.
* * * *
Kelly went into the upscale program for two months. They weren’t helpful. After going to Texas, traveling to Grand Mexico, helping me out, he gained confidence and an off-key brand of savvy.
Kelly was more outgoing, and asked for help with what he needed; he usually called Babak about his allowance. Babak showed him how to use the calculator and the credit card before they went shopping. Kelly’s thin chest swelled with pride when he bought lavender suede loafers.
Kelly started coming with me to campus. No one minded, in fact the women were all over him. He acted like he didn’t see them. Went for the hunkiest hunks in the lunch room while I studied accounting. Then it all stopped. Word got out on campus that Kelly and I had money. I finished my finals online; got my associates degree in financial management.
Everyone kept hitting on us for money. Sadly, we had no real friends when people found out. Fortunately, no one found out about Kelly’s crazy number system.
* * * *
Babak was a great second-father, he loved Mom, loved us. Took me and Kelly fishing, to Gatorland, Disneyworld. Kelly found he loved musical theater. We grilled out, rented moves; life got better. Babak was a sophisticated man, well-traveled, and cooked for us every weekend while Mom supervised at the cafe.
Second daddy was dark, big nose and a heavy beard, furry as a bear yet soft-spoken. No wonder Mom loved him; he was smart, polished and all male.
We went to Key West for the weekend while Mom went to a restaurateur’s convention. Walked the old streets, visited shops and ate our way from one end of the place to the other. Three-wheeled electric bikes made it easy for Kelly. We stayed in a posh bed and breakfast.
Babak brought Kelly his meds that first night. He came out and sat beside me. “Kelly’s a beauty, but son, you got it going on. Love your wide shoulders, smooth brown skin. Let’s relax.”
I stared. He smiled. “C’mon.” He went to the patio, flipped the hot tub cover back and stripped motioning me to join him.
Scooting next to me, “You’re a beautiful man.” He started. “Been waiting to get next to you — if you don’t mind an older man.” His hands were on my package, and I was getting erect. I glanced at the bedroom door where Kelly was. “Don’t worry.”
Pulling me on his lap, we kissed while he fingered my package, then began stroking my cock. Very different feeling being with an expert–he was slow, watching my eyes and telling me what a wonderful body I had, tight butt and bright eyes. Never been seduced before. Felt great.
He turned me to straddle his lap facing him and pressed my head on his shoulder while he began opening my ass. It felt so good, I came without warning — balls pulled up and I showed off a full load. He only chuckled.
Sudden rush of guilt, “What about Mom?”
Tweaking my nipples, he smiled. “She said I had to love her two boys as much as I love her. That’s the best part of our arrangement, sweetheart.”
For once, I wasn’t in the lead, the responsible adult or the pervert. Took a deep breath and let him do whatever he wanted and it was incredible. With his feet on the edge of the seat in front of him, he pushed me back against his bent legs and tucked his rod between my legs. His sizable rod was rigid; shaft was pale with a red knob, veiny with a slight bend upward.
Suddenly I felt an itch inside, I wanted to feel a hot shaft pumping me. With one hand, he stroked me, with the other hand, he pressed his glans against my ass and I pushed back surprising
myself when he entered so quickly.
Gasp.
He smiled, that’s all, then grabbed my waist and pulled me down on his cock, just a fraction of an inch. Had to grip my ass muscles around his rod. “Yes, like that.” He sucked in a breath between gritted teeth, then smiled, “Take all you want.”.
Closed my eyes, leaned back and studied the arousal radiating inside me as he gently stroked my rod and tugged my balls, rubbed my chest. Kelly had no technique like this.
Forgot everything around me, as his glans passed over my feel-good place; I began hunching against him, then gripped his shoulders. Almost couldn’t move thinking that this felt too good to stop, but it would happen; pressure building. Squirmed around a little, almost fainted with satisfaction.
Babak began with short thrusts and grabbed me against him, my face beside his, my dick hard and throbbing between us.
“Cum for me.” He whispered, “Like you do for Kelly. He says you’re always generous.”
Every inhibition vanished; he knew and he didn’t care. Understood immediately why Mom loved this big, hairy man with dark, smiling eyes and a slow smile. She found him for me, for Kelly.
My pelvis began rocking, rubbing his incredible shaft inside me to every place I could, just to feel more. Moved around a little and put my feet beside his hips to make long strokes, lifting myself then pushing back down. Babak tilted his head back, kept his eyes on mine and grabbed my ankles and sighed.
Don’t know if it was sweat or tears, but my face dripped. Water sloshed out to the floor and suddenly I stopped. Warm, squishy cum filled my rear, hot blasts. I stayed still, drunk with pleasure. His hands went to my cock, he glanced up at me, “Cum for me, son.”
Slipped into my gray zone, didn’t want to come, didn’t want to stop and I had to keep going despite the rapidly impending result. He tugged my balls, gripped my rod, strumming my triangle to my slit.
Couldn’t stop it; my cum kept surging, swirling in the water and he held me down as hard as he could on his waning erection. It hurt, and it felt so good — I was speechless with all the sensations, I leaned over and kissed him deeply..
We kissed for a long time. He held me against him, “I can only imagine how hard it’s been on you. Kelly doesn’t want you dating other men. I don’t want to share you either.”
As we were showering, “I’d prefer that you and Kelly come to me when you have needs you can’t fill between yourselves. Kelly’s vulnerable, and I want to eat your ass like a starving man.” Gave me a wink.
I almost choked but gathered my thoughts, “Let me know when.”
He did.
Often.
Epilogue
With Babak, we learned about seduction, teasing, edging, all the finer points of pleasure. Intimate courtesies were on the agenda, along with vibrator use. He enjoyed sex, loved our asses, loved our cocks. Our family loved all of him.
Mom never said a word. Had a feeling she planned this, the gift of Babak. To him, I was exceptionally special.
Life was grand.
* * * *
At home, Kelly and I gathered all the rocks I’d stubbed my toes on, put them into the back of a big truck. Took them to our tax write-off. Using Dad’s idea, we opened a small, upscale RV park, “Padre Park.”
Had it all figured out for max deductions. Built a game room, coffee bar, had a few vending machines with doughnuts and orange sodas. Kelly got a golf cart in order to rotate his rocks through the palms and fuchsia arbors.
Classy little park, Kelly was busy every day, I managed a small crew.
Hired Kelly’s boyfriend Tommy out of that dreadful therapeutic program; Tommy scooped the iguanas out of the pool. He and Kelly kept the stripy rocks orderly.
Yep, a second cart for Tommy was a great deduction; didn’t charge the state for any therapy either. Tommy and Kelly patrolled, met with the residents, and made life grand for everyone.
The Mexico Florida Chamber of Commerce didn’t invite us to join so we designated Kelly the mayor of Grand Mexico with our own quarter-mile parade. Lit a few fireworks, held a catered luncheon with plenty of donuts and pop.
Bigger event when Kelly and Tommy married. Yep, “Whi-i-ite-donuts-an’-an-orange-soda” all the way down the aisle.
End.