Watching Brad

[DeafFoxDemon]

i love the story, it is so heart breaking story!! let hope Brad will come to his sense soon!

 

[kcm17480]

I can't help but love this story. It is so very well written and descriptive. It's like being there with Ted and feeling his pain

 

[Craiger]

Neil,
You are the master of the cliff hanger, damn it!
Now I have to wait one more day

Fortunately Neil isn't like the TV Networks that are running the "Season Finale" . Oops! I better not give him ideas.

Craiger

 

[gsdx]

(I am 4 chapters ahead of the game. I will post another chapter this evening. Enjoy. - Neil)

WATCHING BRAD
Part XIX​

It was stupid, I know. I just sat there, staring at him for a long time, and then my hand slowly came up and I poked my finger into his chest to make certain he was real. Like I said, it was stupid.

But flesh pressed against flesh, and I knew I wasn't dreaming the young man beside me. He was smiling at me, probably at the stupid look on my face. I could smell him as the breeze blew him toward me. He was very real, and he was sitting beside me.

"I'm sorry, Ted," he said quietly. "I had to think about all this." He paused. "A lot."

I still hadn't taken my eyes off him, and I still hadn't said a word. It was dark, but his face was very clear to me. I could see it as distinctly as if he were sitting in a spotlight. I knew that face. It's the one I fell in love with.

"Got another beer?" he asked. I handed him mine. He took a quick drink and he grinned. "Are you going to say anything?"

"Brad?"

Brad set his beer on the wall and his arms came up and around me. He pulled me forward and my arms moved around him as well - tentatively at first, and then with greater urgency. He held me. I was holding him, too, but it was Brad who held me. It was my head laying against his chest. It was his arm around my back. It was my cheek feeling the heat from his body. It was my ear listening to the heart beating inside him. It was his other arm stroking my hair, and it was his lips that were kissing it.

Brad held me, and it was the most wonderful thing I'd ever felt in my life. I could feel his life against my cheek and I could feel the strength in his arms and I could smell the manliness of his body. I stayed there, in my own little Heaven, and it was called Brad.

I don't know how long we stayed there, but, when we finally pulled apart, I'm sure the moon was in another part of the sky. We looked at each other then, and Brad smiled. I saw the chipped tooth and I prayed that he never got it fixed. I missed it so much when he wasn't there for me to see it, and I looked forward to seeing it again when we were away from each other. I wanted to look at his chipped tooth for the rest of my life.

His voice was as gentle as an evening breeze. "I saw you last night. What you did." He must have seen my surprise and embarrassment. He had to have seen it. "I heard you talking to The Bitch on the phone. I came outside later - after dark - and sat on the wall. I was hoping to see you. I wanted to see you. I had to know that you were okay. I hoped you might come out there, but you didn't. I saw you on the sofa." He paused. "I watched you, Ted."

I swallowed hard.

"Were you thinking of me?"

I swallowed again. "Yes," I said.

"You hit your face. Did I make you do that?"

"You saw that?"

Brad nodded. "I was standing right at your back door. Your eyes were closed." His smile turned into a grin. "I'm glad I made you hit your face." And then he said to me, "I love you, Ted. I need to be with you."

I wanted to jump up and down. I wanted to shout out for everyone to hear. I wanted to laugh and dance and sing. I wanted to do cartwheels and somersaults across the lawn. I wanted to tear off my clothes and run naked through the streets. But, most of all, I wanted to kiss Brad.

So I did.

It was over much too soon for me, but I knew it had to end at some point. When I was looking into his eyes again, I told him, "I love you, too, Brad. We'll find a way to make this work."

"I won't move in with you, Ted," Brad said. Then, when he saw the look on my face, he smiled and added, "Not yet, anyway. Not until I'm sure I won't do anything to harm your chances of getting custody of Lindsay. I won't let that happen."

"You can sleep over sometimes, can't you?"

"Yes, I can do that," he chuckled lightly.

"Will you stay tonight?"

"Yes."

I kissed him again. "Can you cum yet? I want to make you cum."

"I think I can. I haven't tried. I was jerking off when I watched you, but I didn't cum. But it doesn't hurt like it did before when you touched me."

"Why did you stop?"

He didn't even know the answer himself. He had to look away and think about it. When he looked back, he said, "Because you weren't with me, Ted. It may sound stupid, but I don't want to cum again if you're not with me."

I had to kiss him again.

"I want to make you cum, Brad. You'll tell me if it hurts?"

"You'll be the first to know."

I stood and took his hands, pulling him to his feet. We abandoned the near-full beer bottles and left them to spend the rest of the night on the stone wall, pointing silently into the night sky.

We held hands as we walked to the back door and stepped inside. Brad followed me as I turned out lights and locked doors. I led him down the hall and into my bedroom and I closed the door behind us. The light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over us as I stripped Brad. He let me take his clothes off this time, and I did it with all the love I felt for him.

I pulled off his T-shirt, dropping it to the floor, and then my hands were exploring his chest, running over it and around it, feeling and searching. I wanted to know every millimetre of it. I wanted to know what if felt like. I wanted to know how the skin felt beneath my fingers. I wanted to know how soft the hair was as I touched it. I wanted to know how warm his body was, how soft, how hard. I wanted to know everything. His chest was so solid, yet so soft at the same time. It filled me with the strength his strength and that empty space he had left inside me when he was gone was suddenly filled back up. . . and it was overflowing.

I dropped to my knees and pulled off his shoes and socks, and then I looked up. His crotch was there, larger than a moment ago with the hardening flesh pushing against the material of his cut- off jeans. I put my hands on his hips and I pushed my face into him. I could feel him beneath me. I could feel his cock as it grew beneath me. I could feel where the shaft ended and where the head began. I could fell his balls against my chin. And I could smell him. It was a different smell. It was Brad's smell, but it was stronger, more powerful, more manly. It was intoxicating in it's aroma and I became lightheaded from it. It was the smell of a man. My man. It was the smell of sex, and I didn't fear it. I embraced it instead. My head began to spin with excitement and I breathed him in deeply.

My face moved away reluctantly and my hands took its place. I unbuttoned the metal clasp, then grasped the tab of the zipper between my finger and thumb. The denim pushed apart as my hand travelled slowly down, over the curves and mounds and valleys of Brad's manhood. And, when the tab reached the bottom, his manhood forced its way through and into the open. I wasn't afraid of it.

I grasped the ragged hems of his shorts and pulled down. The denim slid easily over his ass and down his legs, finally dropping to the floor on its own when it was far enough down his legs. Brad stepped out of them and pushed them aside with his foot..

I looked at Brad then, close-up. The scent from his crotch reached my nostrils even across the space that separated us. His cock was growing, pushing against the soft, cotton material of his briefs, stretching it. His cock was still pointed down between his balls, but it was growing and forcing the material into a sideways rainbow, inflating his briefs as one would inflate a party balloon. It grew larger even as I watched. I wanted to press my face into it again, but I knew the discomfort Brad must be feeling. He didn't complain. He only whimpered so quietly that I could barely hear him. I could see his body quivering. Shivering. Tiny goose bumps of excitement covered his thighs. I carefully lowered the underwear as I had done with his shorts.

Brad's cock sprang forth when the head was released from the waistband, bouncing against my cheek with an audible slapping of skin upon skin. I leaned back slightly and it aimed itself at me, growing in heartbeats. As he stepped out of his underwear, my hand reached to wrap itself around him. I gave it a hesitant, gentle stroke and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure. I gave it a stronger stroke and a drop of clear fluid appeared at the tip.

There was no thinking about it. I simply did it. I leaned forward, my tongue extended past my lips, and I took that droplet of fluid into me. It was nectar. It was ambrosia. And I wanted more. My tongue touched him again, and then my lips. For the first time in my life, I was doing something I would never have imagined I would ever do. I was kissing a man's cock. I was kissing the cock of the man I loved. My other hand moved beneath his balls, cradling them gently and lovingly. They felt heavy and full, and my hand felt like it was full as well. They were so soft, so tender, yet there was so much man in them. I grasped them tenderly in my fingers and held them. They came alive in my hand and danced there.

I pushed my head forward, prying my jaws apart and stretching my lips, and I could taste Brad. I could taste the powerful manliness and sexiness of that part of him which very few people ever saw. I pushed forward until my lips met the ridge of his cockhead. My jaws screamed at me, but I pushed forward despite their protests, and then the head was inside me.

Brad grasped my shoulders, his fingers digging into them, and a long groan of pleasure escaped his lips. I could feel the head filling me, and then it expanded. I could feel it pressing against my teeth and I carefully pulled away from him again, releasing the organ into the light of the bedroom once again.

I knew I wouldn't be able to give him a blowjob. Not yet. Not until I got used to it, but I knew the truth now. I knew that this was what I wanted to do. This was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. And I wanted to do it with Brad.

I gave his cock one final kiss, lapping up one more drop of pre-cum before I rose to my feet. I gave him an apologetic smile and he smiled his understanding. There were tears of appreciation in his eyes. There were tears of joy in mine.

I pushed him gently to the bed, then onto his back against the pillows. He settled into place as I swiftly pulled off my clothes. I lay down beside Brad and pressed my lips against his as my hand sought out the shaft of flesh. It was still as solid and throbbing as ever. My strokes began gently, tenderly, then stronger and faster. Brad kissed me harder and I knew that he was okay. If there was pain, he wasn't going to let me know about it. He wanted me to continue.

And then I stopped the kiss. As much as I enjoyed doing it, I wanted to watch Brad. I wanted to see what I was doing for him. I wanted to see him he enjoy what I was doing for him.

I propped myself on my left elbow. Brad continued to moan, and I had given his cock only a few strokes when he groaned, "Faster." I sped up the rate of my stroking and I could feel his cock responding. It swelled within my hand. My hand travelled up and down the shaft, from its base to just below the ridge.

I gathered saliva in my mouth and spit it on his cockhead. My hand rubbed it in gently and Brad groaned more, his cockhead swelling to a taut, smooth helmet. I spit again and began stroking the head and upper shaft.

"Oh, God, Ted!" Brad moaned as quietly as he could. "Faster!" A few strokes followed, and Brad moaned again. "I'm cumming, Ted! Faster! Harder!"

I did my best to make Brad cum - to give him as much pleasure as I could. And then it happened. His cock swelled enormously, recoiled like a cartoon canon, and the first stream of semen was catapulted out of him with a power I could only imagine. I could hear it splashing against the wall behind us. No cum touched his body except that which splattered on him from above his head. Another stream exploded out, and then another, and then a forth. All of them slammed into the wall. None of them touched Brad's body before they touched the wall. The smell of semen was like a scented candle, filling the room around us, and it was the most exciting scent I have ever enjoyed.

The next spurt landed on Brad, from mid-chest to hair. The rest landed on the headboard. Four more spurts followed. I counted each and every one. They landed on Brad's body.

Brad was doing his best to keep from screaming out. His beautiful face was contorted into a look of pure ecstasy. His eyes were clenched shut. His mouth was open, his lips pulled back and his teeth gritted in an unbreakable grip. His chest heaved and I thought his lungs might burst right out of him.

I turned my attention back to his cock as the remnants of his orgasm squeezed themselves out of his body and onto his stomach. I held him until his cock grew soft once more, and then I held it until Brad spoke.

"Gee-sus, Murphy!" he exclaimed, and he told me everything I needed to know.

I looked at his face, splattered with cum. It was in his hair and it covered his chest as well. He opened his eyes and looked at me and he ran his tongue around his lips, taking his cum inside himself again. I suddenly wanted to taste him as well. I bent down and ran my tongue over his chest, gathering the cream on it.

The taste surprised me. It was so different from my own. Sweeter. More mellow. I liked it, and I licked it up. I travelled over his body, lapping up every drop I could find, and then I pulled his cock into my mouth and cleaned that off as well. Even soft, if filled me and pushed against my throat. I stopped when I gagged slightly. That would be something else I would have to get used to.

Finally, I cleaned his face. Brad let me do it. I licked every part of his face and hair. I lapped up every single drop of semen there was - even the one which had taken refuge in his left nostril. I found it all, and it was all inside me. When I was finished, there wasn't a drop of cum to be found on Brad's body. The rest on the wall and headboard could stay there until later.

We settled down beside each other and we kissed.

Before we fell asleep, before I turned out the light, Brad said, "Thank you, Ted."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you," I apologized.

"If you never do any more than that, it will be more than enough for me." His smile melted me. "This is what I want, Ted. I don't want anything else."

"It's what I want, too, Brad. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I turned out the light and we went to sleep.

* * * * *

"Brad!!"

It was Lindsay. We bolted up in bed as my daughter ran across the floor and jumped onto the bed. She straddled Brad as I tried desperately to keep the sheets in place around our waists. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Then she pulled away, her face crinkled.

"Eww! You stink!"

We laughed, and I reached out my arms for Lindsay. She came to me and I hugged and kissed her ‘good morning'. Then I sat her in my lap. Brad took over holding the sheets in place.

"Sweetheart? I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?"

She nodded.

"Remember what we talked about before? About being gay?"

Lindsay nodded again.

"Brad will be sleeping here sometimes from now on, okay? Someday, he might even move in with us to live. When Brad sleeps here, we will close the door. If the door is closed, you can't come in here, okay?"

"Why?"

I thought quickly. "Do you know what ‘privacy' is?"

She nodded. "It's when you want to be alone."

"Yes, and when the door is closed, I want to be alone with Brad. We want our privacy."

"Why?"

"Because, Sweetheart," I tried to explain, "we want to do things that grown-up people do together, but we have to do them alone so no-one can see us. Do you understand?"

She nodded, but her face turned sad and almost frightened. "Like Mommy and her friends." Tears flowed into her eyes.

"Lindsay? What's wrong? Why are you crying."

Her voice was quiet and on the edge of breaking entirely. "If I forget and come in by mistake, will you spank me like Mommy did?"

I grabbed her in my arms again and held her close. "Oh, no, Sweetheart! I won't ever spank you for that! Never!" When I felt her relax again, I pushed her back so I could look into her eyes. "If you forget and you come in, that's okay. I won't get mad at you. I might be upset and ask you to leave, but I will never, ever spank you. I promise my very best promise, okay?"

She nodded. "What if I'm scared or something and I want to come in?"

"You can come in any time, Sweetheart. All you have to knock on the door and wait for me to tell you it's alright to come in, okay? When I'm here alone, I'll keep my door open and you can come in any time you want, but when the door is closed, I want you to knock and wait. I don't want you to see us if we're doing grown-up things."

"Like Mommy and her friends." She nodded and her smile returned. "Okay, Daddy. I promise. I'll try real hard not to forget."

"I know you will, Sweetheart." I kissed her and set her on the floor. "Now, go back to your room and wait until I'm dressed, and then I'll fix your breakfast."

"Okay, Daddy." She did, and she closed the door behind her.

Brad glanced back at the wall and blushed. "I wonder if she saw that."

I chuckled, then pulled him in for his own ‘good morning' kiss. "Mop and pail are in the kitchen," I said.

He laughed.

"You go grab a shower. I'll grab one later. I have to get Lindsay's breakfast first anyway."

I rolled out of bed and was about to stand up when Brad said, "Ted?"

I turned.

"I. . . you know."

"I know," I smiled. "I do, too."

I stood up and started pulling on my clothes as Brad slid out of bed and started dressing as well. "We'll have to get you a robe to keep here."

"I'll bring mine. I have an older one at home anyway. I'll use that there until Mom buys me a new one."

* * * * *

Terry seemed pleased to see Brad there that morning until he kissed me ‘goodbye' at the door as I left for work and said, "See you tonight." I could see her shoulders drop and I could see her heave a rather heavy, disappointed sigh. At first, I felt rather sorry for her, and then I though, "Who am I kidding? He's mine!"

* * * * *

Al had been a terrific lawyer since I had retained him years ago for my divorce. He outdid himself this time with The Bitch's trial. He did all the work he could and it was left to me only to sign a few papers and to phone the Crown a few times. A petition for temporary custody was included in the case as well as a petition to cease the child support payments were I to gain custody. I was assured by the Crown that Lindsay would not have to take the stand, but the Judge wanted to speak to her alone in her chambers.

Miss Craig had already pled to a lesser charge and was placed on probation for two years. She was also to take anger management courses and was barred from babysitting or dealing in any way with minors at least until her probation was finished and she'd successfully completed her courses.

The Bitch didn't. She wanted her day in court. Somehow, she thought that it was her right as a parent to discipline her child as she felt best.

Brad came to court and sat in the gallery, as did Bernice. John was understandably absent. Jacob was there, and the Doctor, the arresting Police Officer (the one who had taken my statement at the hospital), and the nurse were there as witnesses. Terry came along just to watch. There were a few other curious visitors, but I didn't know them and I didn't particularly care who they were or why they were there. Lindsay was in another room, being entertained by a young, female court officer who was watching her as she played with a GameBoy.

Judge Henderson took her place behind the bench and we took our seats. The CA remained standing. "Your Honour, if I may. Mr. de Villiers would like to make a brief statement before we begin the proceedings."

The Judge nodded and I stood up. Al, my lawyer and friend, stood beside me. "Thank you, Your Honour. I would like you to know that I am in a relationship with this man here." I turned and stretched my hand to indicate Brad, who sat right behind me.

"Any your point is, Mr. de Villiers?"

"I thought you should know, Your Honour, in case it might influence your decisions here today concerning the custody portion of my petition."

"I appreciate your honesty and candor, Mr. de Villiers, but that is irrelevant."

The Bitch jumped to her feet, slamming her hands on the table. "Like hell it's not relevant! That faggot has no right. . . !"

The Judge's gavel brought a quick end to her little tirade. "Counsellor! I suggest you keep our client under control!"

The Bitch's lawyer grabbed her and sat her down, whispering urgently in her ear. Her anger could have fried eggs. She knew I had just pulled the plug on her case before she could use it against me.

The Judge looked toward Brad. "You. Stand up."

Brad stood.

"What's your name?"

"Bradley Hayes, Your Honour."

"Middle name?"

"Nelson."

"H-A-Y-E-S?"

"Yes, Your Honour," Brad replied politely. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Are you in a relationship with Mr. de Villiers?"

Brad nodded. "Yes, I am, Your Honour."

"Do you live with him?"

"No, Your Honour. I stay overnight occasionally, but we don't live together."

With a glance toward Bernice, the Judge asked, "Is this your Mother?"

"Yes," Brad said as Bernice rose unbidden to her feet.

To Bernice, Judge Henderson asked, "Name, please?"

"Bernice Mae Hayes, Ma'am, Your Honour."

"Are you aware of this relationship?"

"Yes I am, and both my husband and I are very happy for our son." She grasped Brad's arm. "Ted is a good man and we. . ."

"He's a fuckin' faggot!" The Bitch was on her feet again and screaming. The Judge's gavel was pounding on the desk plate. "They're both a couple of faggots!!"

More gavel banging, and then Judge Henderson was yelling, "Mrs de Villiers! Sit down and shut up!" The Bitch's lawyer somehow got her quiet and sitting again, but he could see his case going right down the crapper. "One more outburst from you," the Judge continued, "and I'll have you removed from this court and we will proceed without you! Do you understand!?"

The Bitch wasn't at all pleased, but she said, "Yes, Your Honour." Her voice was quieter, but her face looked like Mount Vesuvius, ready to erupt.

Judge Henderson returned her attention to Bernice. "Please, continue."

"As I was saying, Ma'am," and she gave The Bitch a wicked, sideways glance, "Ted is a good man, and both my husband and I trust him completely with our son. Not only do we not have any concerns about their relationship, we encouraged it. We want our son to be happy." And then she lowered her head slightly and a proud smile crossed her lips. "Lindsay calls me ‘Grandma'."

"Thank you, both. You may sit down." Brad and Bernice did. "As I was saying, Mr. de Villiers. It's completely irrelevant. However, I will be speaking to your daughter about it. I would like to hear how she feels about it. I assume she knows?"

"Yes, Your Honour. We've been very open with her about it. She knows all about us, but I'm not sure she completely understands yet."

"She's only nine," the Judge said. "I'm fifty-three and I don't even understand it yet." There was tittering from the gallery. "Thank you, Mr. de Villeirs. You may be seated."

I sat down again and the case moved forward. The nurse was excused. Her testimony wouldn't be necessary, but she stayed nonetheless. I offered my testimony first, interrupted several times by outbursts from The Bitch, but she shut up when the Judge threatened to cart her off to jail again for contempt if she didn't keep quiet.

Doctor van Horne testified next, explaining all the photos and X-rays in English which even I could understand. The Officer followed, and then Jacob, who presented his notes and photos as evidence, as well as his eyewitness testimonial statements, all properly notarized and official.

Wisely, The Bitch's Lawyer decided to keep his client off the stand. With all the evidence and testimony against her, he didn't need her adding even more.

Court was recessed as the Judge spoke to Lindsay. I was turned around, talking quietly to Brad when the bailiff came in, put his hand on my shoulder, and whispered in my ear. I stood up and followed him.

"Where's he going!?" That was The Bitch. Probably screaming at her lawyer. "I should be there, too!"

The bailiff took me to the Judge's chambers. The court stenographer sat to the side, ready to record every word.

"Please wait outside," she told the bailiff. He did, and closed the door behind him. Judge Henderson was sitting in a chair in front of her desk. Lindsay sat facing her. An empty chair was set beside Lindsay. The Judge indicated the chair and I sat. Lindsay stood up and crawled up into my lap.

"That's okay, Mr. de Villiers," the Judge said with a kind smile. "I asked you here because I'd like to see the bruises if they still exist, but I didn't want to do it without you here."

"Thank you, Your Honour," I said. "Sweetheart, we have to show the Judge where you were hurt, okay? I'll stay right here with you."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Don't be afraid."

"I won't."

I set her on the floor between my legs and unbuttoned her top. I pushed it off her shoulders and down far enough to see the bruise made by the shoe. I pointed it out and Judge Henderson leaned forward. She grabbed a magnifying glass from the top of her desk and leaned forward again, examining the bruise with her glass. She nodded.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Six days ago, Your Honour."

She shook her head and made a ‘tsk tsk' sound with her tongue.

I did up Lindsay's top, then reached around and pulled her pants down enough to show what needed to be seen. "This happened Friday evening, Your Honour. You can still see two marks the remote made, here and here." I pointed and the Judge looked through her glass. "There was another one here, but you can't see it now."

She sat back again and I pulled up Lindsay's pants straightened her clothes. "There were three marks in the Doctor's report. Are there other bruises as well?"

"None that can be seen anymore, Your Honour."

The Judge stood, and I hastened to do so also. Lindsay reached to be picked up. I did. Her arm went around my neck and her head settled against my chest.

"Thank you, Mr. de Villiers. I'll present my ruling soon. Your daughter may stay with you until I do, but I think it's best if she goes with the Court Officer when I return to the bench." Her eyes told me that I wouldn't want Lindsay in the courtroom, either.

"Thank you, Your Honour."

"And, Mr. de Villiers, Lindsay told me all about you and Mr. Hayes. She told me that you prohibit her from entering your bedroom when the bedroom door is closed. Very wise. She also told me that both you and Mr. Hayes are very discrete. She said she's only seen you kiss and hug and hold hands. I believe she understands it at least as well as I do."

"Thank you, Your Honour."

"She told me one other thing. She told me about going to the bathroom one night in Mrs. de Villiers' apartment. She discovered Mrs. de Villiers with a man she didn't know on the sofa in the livingroom. Let's just say that clothes weren't necessary for what they were doing. She told me that her Mother yelled at her to go back to her room. She wet the bed that night because she was afraid to go out again and go to the bathroom. She was spanked for wetting the bed as well."

I was stunned once more and I automatically wrapped my arms tighter around Lindsay and held her closer than before. "I didn't know that. She didn't tell me."

"I get the impression she was told you'd be angry at her if you found out she wet the bed."

I could only look down at my daughter and I kissed her hair. "How many lies she tell you, Sweetheart." I kissed her again.

"I understand you have a custody hearing coming up. I'll see to it that Lindsay doesn't have to testify or even speak to the Judge. The transcripts from my interview will certainly be made available as evidence, and they will most certainly be enough."

"Thank you, Your Honour."

She opened the door and I exited. The door closed behind me.

* * * * *

Even The Bitch was quiet as the judge ruled on her assault charge. Whatever her lawyer had said to her, he'd been able to do something that I had been unable to do for the past four years.

Judge Henderson talked for a long time, but one part of it stuck out in my mind:

"Mrs. de Villiers, you are a despicable human being. How you could cause the damage you did to your own child's body is beyond me. And the damage didn't stop there. You assaulted her mind as well with your poison and your lies, and that is damage which is not so easily mended. If I had my way, I would order the hospital to return your daughter's arm cast to me when it is eventually removed and then I would beat you with it myself until you were just as black and blue as she is. It pains me more to know that you beat her over a make-up case. You put your daughter's arm in a cast, Mrs. de Villiers. Your appearance was more important to you than your own daughter. You can never justify that to me."

The Bitch went ballistic when the Judge granted temporary custody to me. I was so glad Lindsay wasn't around to hear it or see it. She had cried when I told her that she had to wait in another room, but she went without much protest when Grandma joined her with the Judge's permission.

The Bitch was taken out in handcuffs long before court was adjourned. Not only would she serve time for abusing my daughter, but she had extra time tagged on for contempt as well. Three times.

Lindsay was mine - at least until the Family Court made its ruling in November. No more child support would be paid and neither would the alimony as long as The Bitch was serving her time. She would not profit from her horrific actions.

How much time did she get? Well, let me just say that anyone who buys her a gift for her birthday or for Christmas, or Easter, or Victoria Day, or Canada Day. . . (How many holidays? Go ahead. Guess.) . . . should buy her something very long and skinny.

Lindsay was brought back into the courtroom to join me. She jumped into my arms and I hugged and kissed her and cried. When I finally let her loose enough to breathe again, she said, "Can I live with you now, Daddy?"

"Yes, Sweetheart, you can." Then she hugged me and kissed me and cried.

"Mr. de Villiers?"

I stood. Al stood beside me, as usual.

"I wish you all the very best with your family, Sir."

"Thank you, Your Honour."

She turned her attention to Al. "Mr. Brent, when is the custody hearing?"

"November 15th, Your Honour. I'm trying to move it forward."

"Who is residing?"

Al checked his notes quickly. "Judge Miles, Your Honour."

The Judge nodded. "I can help you there. Contact the Clerk next week."

"Thank you, Your Honour."

"I'm also issuing a Court Order for you, Mr. de Villiers, to enter your ex-wife's apartment to retrieve your daughter's belongings. With police accompaniment, of course."

"Does that mean I can get my stuff back, Daddy?"

"Shh," I whispered.

"Yes, Lindsay," the Judge said with a smile. "You can take everything if you wish."

"Thank you, Judge," Lindsay said.

"You're very welcome."

Judge Henderson raised her gavel, but I spoke before it dropped. "Excuse me, Your Honour."

Her nod gave me permission to proceed. "I'd also like to make arrangements to have Mrs. de Villiers remaining items to be packed and stored. I'll pay all the expenses."

"Why would you want to do that, Mr. de Villiers?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "She's still Lindsay's Mother. She doesn't deserve to lose everything."

"Very well," the Judge said. "I'll write a court order to that affect as well. Mr. Brent, when the arrangements are made, contact the Clerk and the courts will see that they are carried out."

"Yes, Your Honour. Thank you," Al said.

And, with a bang of the gavel, Lindsay was mine.

* * * * *

I took everyone out to the best restaurant in town. Myself, Lindsay, Brad, Bernice, Jacob, Terry, and Al. Part way through lunch, Lindsay climbed into my lap, lay her head against my chest, and fell asleep.

Back home, Brad went to his house long enough to grab up his bathrobe, more clothes, and some other items he wanted to bring over to keep at my place, including a few toothbrushes, shaving items, and such. He was beginning to make my house his home.

That night, Lindsay ate dinner with me and Brad. Our first meal as something of a real family. Brad and I slept together that night. We didn't do anything. We just slept together.

Outside, on the wall, our beer bottles still sat where we'd left them.

To Be Continued​

 

[Kyanimal]

I'm in! Hook, line, and sinker!! But ... that's been the case since I read the first few paragraphs of Chapter 1!!

 

[harry113]

Yes Kyanimal, me too!!!
This is a beautiful story & I am enjoying reading it ( with my heart in my mouth sometimes )
Thanks again Neil
Peace & Love
Harry

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part XX​

Brad started painting my. . . our. . . bedroom the next day, on Thursday. I didn't know it, of course, until I got home. The room was a mess. Everything pulled away from the walls and covered in huge sheets of plastic. The bed sat in the middle of the floor. I don't know how he moved it by himself.

All four walls were taped and primed. The ceiling was supposed to remain unpainted until later, but, with the extra money available to me now, Brad thought I might want to have it done now rather than later. He and Lindsay were busy preparing dinner when I walked in the front door. Shake ‘n Bake chicken. Something easy to start with, and fool-proof directions. Brad was busy peeling potatoes as Lindsay shook up a storm. Short of eating it later, that was her favourite part.

She ran to me when she saw me and hugged me as best she could without touching my shirt with her ‘yucky' hands. But she made up for the weak hug with a whole lot of kisses. I really didn't mind them.

Brad didn't hug me, but he gave me a pretty good kiss. It almost reached the same level of tastiness that Lindsay's kisses were at. He smelled good, too. He looked different today, though. He was smiling, as usual, but his clothes were different. At least his T-shirt was. It was solid grey with black specks and skin tight, but it was sliced off about half-way between his belly button and his pecs. He wore his favourite cut-off shorts as well, but they never looked as good as they did right now. It surprised me that he could be just as sexy with clothes on as he did without. There was a whole lot of skin between the two pieces of material, and it looked just as delicious as the Shake ‘n Bake.

I was trying to remember where I'd put the scissors when Brad said, "Go get changed and grab a beer. Dinner will be in about an hour."

I stepped up beside him, just so I could smell him again. "I can help here," I said. "I don't mind."

"I do," he said. "If I'm going to be here, I'm doing my share. Now go change."

"Okay, but you have to kiss me again."

He did.

"Gee-sus, Murphy, Daddy!" Lindsay exclaimed. "Put him down!"

What else could we do but laugh?

* * * * *

Dinner was quite edible, actually, and I quite enjoyed it. Brad beamed when I complimented him. Of course, I had to compliment Lindsay as well. "You did the tastiest shaking I've ever eaten!"

The three of us did the dishes together.

"Why don't you buy a dishwasher, Daddy?" Lindsay asked. "It's more fun to do them that way."

"A lot lazier, too," I said.

"Well, I'm not going to live here if I have to do dishes every day," she proclaimed. She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking stern and threatening.

I put my own hands on my own hips and matched her expression. "And just what would you do if there were no such thing as automatic dishwashers?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, "I'd hire a maid!"

When dishes were finished, we went out together and bought Lindsay a dishwasher. It was a fair trade for the laugh she gave me.

We were watching television before Lindsay's bedtime, sitting on the sofa together. Lindsay sat on one side of me, Brad sat on the other, and I had an arm around each of them.

"Daddy, why does Brad have bigger bumps than you?"

I looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean, Sweetheart?"

"Brad's pants have bigger bumps than yours."

"Well, that happens sometimes when people grow up, Sweetheart. Just like some people are tall and other people are short. Some people are fat and some are thin. Everybody's different."

She tapped her lip with her finger, a habit that made me cringe each time she did it. "You mean like Mommy's boobies and Mrs. Grange's boobies?"

"Yes, that's right."

She put her hands to her chest. "Will I have boobies when I grow up?"

"Yes, you will."

"Will they be little like Mommy's or big like Mrs. Grange?"

"I don't know, Lindsay. We won't know until you grow up."

She patted her chest, then settled into me again. "Are Brad's things like your things, Daddy?"

"Yes, they are."

"Just bigger?"

"Yup."

"Oh, okay." And her attention was suddenly back on the television set. She knew what she wanted to know and that was that.

I glanced over at Brad. I tell you, as cute as he is, he's a whole lot cuter when he's blushing.

* * * * *

Lindsay surprised me with a cake she had helped make for Friday's dessert. Grandma did the baking, of course, but Lindsay had done the mixing and all the frosting and decorating. It was barely recognizable as a cake, but man, it was good.

"It's a party cake," Lindsay had told me when she carried it out from her bedroom.

"What's the party for?"

"Because I don't have to go back to Mommy's tonight."

I was thinking about that and smiling at the thought when the phone rang. I got up to answer it.

"Hello. . . Oh, hi, Al. It's Friday night. What's the problem? . . . No, I haven't heard anything. . . . You're kidding!? What does that mean!?. . . Al, I. . . ." I started to cry. "I'm sorry, Al. I've got. . . ." I just hung up and fell to the sofa in tears.

Behind me, I heard a panicked voice screaming, "Brad! Daddy's crying!"

I jumped up and was around the sofa in a flash, grabbing Lindsay up into my arms and kissing her all over.

"Daddy! Daddy!" She was crying now, too.

Brad was there suddenly and I grabbed him in my free arm and kissed him all over as well. He pushed away from me. "Dammit, Ted, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Sweetheart!" I shouted, and I started kissing Lindsay all over again.

"Ted!" Brad yelled. "Tell me!" His eyes were full to bursting.

"It's over, Brad! It's all over!" I kissed them both again. "Oh, God! It's over! She's giving up her rights to Lindsay!" Lindsay needed more kisses, and I gave them to her. "Oh, God, Lindsay. I love you so much, Sweetheart."

"Daddy, why are you crying?" Her voice was cracking, forcing its way through her tears.

"Because you never have to go away ever again, Sweetheart?"

"You mean I can live here forever?"

"Yes! Oh, God, yes!"

Lindsay latched onto me from the front. Brad latched onto me from the side. Together, we stood there and we kissed and we hugged and we cried.

* * * * *

It would be a few days before everything would become official and finalized, but, after I calmed down again and thought about it, I actually felt sorry for Connie. She was a wonderful person, once, and, when Lindsay was born, there wasn't a better mother in the world. But she had changed so much. Money became the driving force in her life. Money equalled happiness, and nothing would stand in her way to get it. . . not even her daughter. In fact, she had used Lindsay to get it. I could only pity her and hope that her time behind bars would make her realize what money had done to her.

She knew she was beaten. She knew she was responsible for her own failure. She knew she couldn't use Lindsay against me anymore and she let her go.

I won't bore you with details. It's not necessary. I will tell you, though, that Connie served her time. Whether or not it did her any good, I don't know. When she was released, she gathered her things from storage and moved somewhere far away from us. I don't even know where. Lindsay never saw her Mother again, and her Mother never saw Lindsay again, either.

I received a notice from the storage company a week or so after her release and was told that the unit had been virtually emptied, but a few boxes remained. I picked them all up and closed the account. Inside the boxes were almost all the photos and photo albums. Connie had taken only the ones she wanted. She left the rest for Lindsay.

At the bottom, underneath all the photos and albums, was a beautiful, carved-wood make-up kit. Inside was a folded piece of paper. Written on the paper were only two words: "I'm sorry."

Perhaps she had learned something after all.

* * * * *

After dinner, Brad prepared a bath for Lindsay, wrapped her arm in a plastic bag, then joined me in the livingroom and played at Nintendo. I called everyone who mattered and told them the news. Warren fell apart and Bill had to take over for him. Eventually, Warren pulled himself together enough to get on the extension phone.

"She's lost everything, Warren," I told him. "She has nothing. Tomorrow, I'm renting a U-Haul and we're going to get every single bit of Lindsay's stuff from the apartment, and I mean everything."

"Would you like us to come down? I can't do much, but I can watch Lindsay for you."

"No, Warren, it's okay. Thanks anyway. I think we can manage. We're only bringing her toys and clothes and collections. I'll bring what furniture and things she wants, but that's it. If she doesn't want it, it's staying there."

"What about photos?" Bill suggested.

"I already have copies of almost everything. At least the ones I want. Lindsay will take the ones she wants to keep."

"Don't forget her movies and music and stuff," Warren reminded me.

"Don't worry, guys," I said. "We've got everything under control."

"Ding Dong The Bitch is Dead," Warren sang. "Quel domage, eh?"

"Warren, you've got to quit mixing your French with your English."

"They say ‘eh' in Quebec!" Then, "Don't they?"

We laughed.

"Hey, Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"When I'm all better, do you think you could part with Lindsay for a week? I'd love to have her come stay with us."

I started to choke up. Warren said ‘when', not ‘if'. "She can stay as long as you can tolerate her."

"You might never get her back, pal," Bill warned.

I could see his smirk. "Over my dead body," I retaliated.

"Say, Teddy, how's Basket Boy doing? Quel beuf!"

"Just fine, Warren. He's packing it all over the house now. In fact, he's sitting right beside me." Brad looked at me. I said to him, "Warren wants to know how ‘Basket Boy" is doing."

"I'm taken!" Brad shouted.

"Teddy, you mean Mr. Home of the Whopper is living with you now? Imagine having that in bed with you every night! Merde!"

"Gee-sus, Murphy, Warren. Is that all you think about?"

"No," he said. "Sometimes I think about Bill's hairline - what there is left of it. So, fess up. How wrinkled does he make your sheets?"

"You certainly have a way with words, buddy," I said. "No, he's not living here. . . yet, but he wrinkles my sheets quite adequately. Thank God for Perma-Press."

"You lucky bastard, Teddy!" Warren said. "I'll trade ya."

"Easy there, Warren," Bill said. "I've already got you listed on E-bay. Watch out or you'll end up belonging to some Biker Boy in St. John's."

"Ooooo. Promises, promises!" Then he whispered, "Teddy, if Brad wants to bid on me, tell him I'll give him the money."

Bill started singing. "To dre-e-e-eam the impossible dre-e-e-eam. . ."

That did it. I cracked up. When I finally regained my sanity, I told them both, "Love you guys. Take care, eh?"

"We will, Teddy," Warren said. "Love you, too."

"Ditto, buddy," Bill said.

"Ted?"

"Yeah, Warren?"

"Give Lindsay a great, big smooch from me, okay?"

"Daddy!!"

"Hang on, Warren. That's her now. She's calling me. My ‘damsel in distress' needs me."

"I'll go,"Brad said.

"Tell her Uncle Warren's on the phone."

"She'll be here in a minute, Warren," I said into the phone.

"So, Teddy," Warren said mischievously, "is he as big as I imagine?"

"Warren!" That was from both myself and Bill at the same time.

I heard footsteps running down the hall. "Here she comes, Warren." I held out the phone to her.

"Hi, Uncle Warren," she said as I looked at Brad as to her problem.

"She got the sleeve of her nightgown hung up on her cast," he said, giggling as he sat down beside me again. "It was stuck over her head and she couldn't get it on or off."

I giggled, too. I could see it happening. "Oh, could you drain the tub, please?"

"Already done."

"Bye, Uncle Warren. Bye, Uncle Bill. I love you." She handed me the phone, then curled up in my lap to watch Brad play Nintendo.

"So, guys," I said into the phone, "I should get going. I've got a few more calls to make."

"Okay, Teddy," Warren said. "You take care of my niece for me, you hear?"

"I will, Warren," I said. "Still want me to give Lindsay a kiss for you?"

"Nah. I already gave her one. But you can give Brad one for me."

"I can do that. Bye, guys."

"Bye."

We hung up.

I called Jacob next. He was ecstatic to hear the news. I promised to send him a big bonus cheque, but he told me, "Don't bother, Ted. I'll rip up every one you send me. The best bonus you could ever give is one you have already given me. A whole new life ahead of me again. If it wasn't for you. . ." He stopped speaking.

"Thanks, Jacob, and if it wasn't for you, I might not have Lindsay here with me now."

"That's my job," he said. "Call me if you need me again."

"Count on it, Jacob," I said. "Bye for now."

Bernice and John already knew. We'd all gone over together even before we finished our cake to tell them. Bernice was beside herself and cried almost as much as I had done. When we finally left, Bernice said, "Bradley, you'll come back to visit us from time to time, won't you?"

Brad laughed. "I don't live there, Mom," he said.

"Could have fooled me, Son," John said with a wink. "If you need anything, let us know."

Brad kissed his Mom and Dad. "Love you," he said to both.

"We love you, too, Bradley," Bernice said. "Now you be a good boy, you hear?"

"Aw, Mom, you make it sound like I'm going to camp or something."

"I'm your Mother," she said. "I worry. Just be a good boy."

"I will, Mom."

Now, we were sitting on the sofa together. Brad was playing some game with space-aged hovercrafts. Watching the screen made me feel dizzy. It was like that car race game, but this one was a lot faster and had some tracks with square corners. It didn't look easy, but Brad was handling it like a pro.

"Well, Sweetheart," I said to Lindsay. She still sat on my lap. "I think it's your bedtime."

"Aw, Daddy, it's Friday and you don't have to go to work tomorrow. Can't I stay up later?"

"No."

She looked at Brad. "Brad?" she said.

Brad held up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me, Lindsay. Your Dad makes the rules. I just follow them."

She stuck out her tongue at him and he stuck his out at her.

"Tell you what, Sweetheart," I said. "Tomorrow night, we'll all go out and see that new Disney movie. Then we'll go to Tim Horton's for a treat. How's that?"

I got a big hug out of that one. And a kiss to boot.

I didn't have to promise Brad anything to get the same thing later on.

* * * * *

Our bed was still in the middle of the room. I didn't care. Brad was in it and it could have been balanced on the top of Mount Everest for all I cared.

I twirled my finger in the patch of hair between Brad's pecs. "I can't believe this is happening to me." I said in a hush.

Brad stayed silent. I knew he was waiting for my explanation.

"Lindsay is all mine now, and so are you. I can't imagine anything else making me feel happier that I am right now."

"I can't, either," Brad admitted. "I'm still scared, though."

"Why?"

I felt Brad shrug more than I saw it. "I don't know. This is what I want. This is what makes me happy. But it still scares me."

"It scares me, too, Brad."

He turned his head to look at me and I looked back at him. "Not the same way. I'm afraid of what people are going to think about you."

"That's my problem, Brad. And I don't really care what people think."

"What if they think you're a Sugar Daddy or something?"

I pulled my hand away from his chest and rolled onto my elbow, propping my head in my hand. "First of all, Brad, rich, old men are Sugar Daddies. I'm not all that rich and I'm not all that old. I couldn't afford to have you as my Sugar Baby."

"But I'm here most of the time," he said. "You feed me and everything."

"Not everything, Brad," I told him. "I don't buy your clothes. I don't give you an allowance. Sugar Daddies do that."

"But I don't even have a job except painting your house. I can barely support myself let alone help support this family."

"Brad, please," I said. "You're in school. You're getting your education so you can do all those things. That's the important thing. That's important to me. I feed you, but you are trying to learn how to cook it. I didn't ask you to do that. You did it all by yourself. You look after Lindsay and you do more than your share keeping the house clean. You even wash all our clothes."

"I just want to do my share. I don't want anyone to think that you're my Sugar Daddy."

I paused, touched by his reservations. "Brad," I said quietly. "You can't control what people think. It doesn't matter what you do, or what you say, you can't change what they think."

"But. . ."

I kissed him to stop his words. "Don't be afraid for me. At least not for that. I can deal with it." I kissed him again. "I want you to do me a favour."

His smile returned, and there was that delightful chipped tooth again. "Okay," he said. "What?"

"Would you jerk off for me?" Brad's eyebrows curled up and his lips spread in a wider smile. I said, "It would make me very happy if you would."

"You still like watching me?"

"I hope I never get tired of it."

"I don't think I can suck myself yet," he said. "I can't bend over that way."

"That's okay. I like watching you use your hands just as much."

"Are you going to jerk off with me?"

"No. I just want to watch you."

Brad slid up in bed and settled against the headboard. I stayed where I was, my head propped in my hand. I got a birds-eye view of the spectacle in front of me. His hands pushed down at the blankets, uncovering himself. He was already growing, and his practiced hands began their duty. His cock grew quickly under his touch and he began to masturbate. I loved watching him, and my cock was rock solid before his was. I didn't touch it, though.

Brad's hands were magic on his body. He touched himself the way he liked to be touched, and he did all the things that made him feel good. I watched and I learned. I memorized everything so I could do the same thing to him. There was a lot I wanted to do for Brad, but watching him jerk himself to orgasm was still my favourite. I think it was because he did it so well.

So, I lay there, watching Brad. I watched as his hands worked their magic. I watched as they stroked him to ultimate release. I watched as his chest and stomach began to heave with each breath. I watched as his balls began to pull up in their sack, and I watched as his cock began to pump out its prize. I didn't watch where it landed this time. I watched only his cock. Spurt after spurt. I watched each one escape, and then I leaned forward and captured the end of his cock in my mouth.

Brad went rigid, pushing his hips up suddenly and a loud grunt and then a groan escaped him. He hadn't been expecting me to do that.

I captured the remaining squirts in my mouth and I swallowed him. And still I gathered more. I kept his cock in my mouth until his orgasm stopped, and I held it there long after. As his cock softened within me, I slid my mouth down on it until my throat begged me to stop. I held it there for a long time.

When I finally released it and leaned back again, Brad kissed me. I could feel the cum on his face rubbing into my skin. I inhaled the smell of it into my nostrils, the taste of it still fresh on my tongue. And then Brad was moving down my body and sucking my own cock into his mouth. He sucked and he bobbed his head. I could feel my cockhead bumping against the back of his mouth.

My cock found the entrance to his throat and Brad valiantly pushed himself forward. He gagged and pulled away entirely, but he didn't apologize or anything. I could hear him swallowing, and then he was back on my cock again. Once more, I touched his throat and he pushed, but, with a suck of air through his nostrils and a tightening of his throat, he pulled away again and concentrated his efforts on the parts of me that he could handle.

It was only minutes later that my own orgasm began. Brad didn't move. He held me there, safely in his mouth, and he let it happen. I lay there afterwards, exhausted, for a long time. Brad did, too. And then he released me from his mouth and moved up to settle into my arms. He kissed me and we each shared the tastes we held within each of us. We each said those three little words to each other, and then I turned out the light and we went to sleep, still bathed in Brad's sweet cum.

To Be Continued​

 

[sheep]

The story just keeps getting better.

 

[ronboy]

Neil, I am nuts about this story! Keep it coming!

 

[Kyanimal]

Got me, too!!

 

[Craiger]

Neil,

This is such a wonderful story. You have brought us through the beginning of their finding each other in love to the very exciting beginnings of their sexual relationship. You are truly a master at writing. There is still so much more to happen and I, with all the others, can hardly wait for each new chapter.

Craiger

 

[kcm17480]

Great writing. I really have enjoyed reading this story. There is so much heart in it. Waiting for the next part.

 

[Caution]

shit i caught to the ned

 

[Caution]

Shit I caught up GReat story usually im not into these lovey dubeby stories but this was great. Ive been on the bloody computer since 9:00 am

 

[gsdx]

WATCHING BRAD
Part XXI​

The knocking woke me up before Lindsay's voice did. "Daddy! Can I come in?"

Shit! We were a mess. Dried cum covered my face and parts of my chest. Brad didn't look any better.

"No, Sweetheart," I called back. "Don't come in. I'll be right there, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. Can I watch cartoons?"

"Sure. I'm going to take a quick shower, okay? And then I'll make your breakfast."

"Okay, Daddy!"

Her quick footsteps disappeared down the hall.

Brad looked at me and grinned. "I think I'll wait until you shower before I kiss you."

"I don't think I will," I said, and mashed my lips against him.

"Mmmm," Brad moaned.

I rolled away from him and got out of bed. Brad followed close behind.

"Do you think Lindsay would mind if we took a shower together?" he asked.

"Why, do you want to?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

I looked down. His cock was solid and standing out and up from his body. If I ever needed a pole to hang the old Maple Leaf, I had one.

"I'm not sure there's room in there for that. Besides, I don't have time to take care of it. I need to get Lindsay's breakfast."

Brad chuckled. "Oh, I think I can handle it by myself if I need to. So. What do you say?"

I shrugged. Lindsay already knew that grown-ups sometimes go into the bathroom together. Connie and I had done so many times. As long as we locked the door, it shouldn't bother Lindsay. "Sure. What the hell? Let's try it."

We pissed together, but I finished first and went to crank up the shower. Brad finished and flushed. When the water was just right, I stepped in. Brad joined me. It was a bit crowded, but it was the best crowd I'd ever been in.

I would have liked the shower to last longer, but duty called. Minutes later, we were towelled dry and wrapped in our respective robes. Brad joined Lindsay watching Bugs Bunny as I prepared breakfast.

"Brad!?" I yelled. "Set up the TV trays! We'll eat in there this morning!"

"Okay," he called back.

We sat in front of the television watching the Road Runner outfox Wiley Coyote yet one more time. During a commercial break, I said, "Sweetheart, if the bathroom door is locked when I'm in there, it means Brad is in there with me. If you need me, just knock, okay?"

"Does Brad need help going to the bathroom, too?"

"No, Sweetheart," I told her with a sincere smile.

She nodded. "Grown-up things," she said. "Like the bedroom door. Okay, Daddy."

"Thank you, Sweetheart." I kissed her hair and that was that.

Brad asked, "How long do you think it will take to pack up Lindsay's stuff?"

"Oh, a few hours at most," I said. "I've got the U-Haul for the whole weekend anyway, so even if we don't unload it tonight, we can do it tomorrow. But I want to get everything out of there today."

I waited until Lindsay stopped giggling at Wiley's latest ACME failure and asked, "Do you know where all your stuff is at the apartment, Sweetheart?"

"In my bedroom. Mommy won't let me have it anywhere else in the house. There's some things in the livingroom, too." She stopped eating and looked at me. "Are we really bringing all my junk here?"

"Yes, Sweetheart," I assured her. "This is where you're going to live from now on. You'll never go back to that apartment again."

I thought she might cry, but she smiled instead. "That's good, Daddy. I don't like living there anyway."

"You'll have to go to a new school."

She pointed over her shoulder, which was pointing at the kitchen and nowhere near the new school. "You mean this one here?"

"Yup," I said.

Her face crinkled in thought as she tapped her lip. "I'll miss my old friends, but I'll make new ones."

"You can still go visit your old friends, Sweetheart," I assured her. "I can take you there any time you want to do."

"That's okay, Daddy. I didn't really like them anyway," she said. "I might go visit Wendy, though. She was my best friend."

I smiled at her. "Then you can invite Wendy over for a visit some weekend. She can spend the night here."

Lindsay's face lit up. "Really, Daddy? Can I?"

"Sure," I said, grinning. "We can bring your bed from the apartment and keep it in the basement. When Wendy or any of your other friends come to visit, we can set it up in your room. There's plenty of space."

"Or, we could sleep on the floor on the air mattresses," she suggested. "It would be like camping."

"Whatever you like, Sweetheart."

"Can she come over tonight?"

"We're going to the movies, remember?"

There was that lip-tapping again. "Maybe she could go with us," she suggested with a whole of ‘please, please, please' included in it.

"Okay, you can phone her after breakfast and see."

Lindsay went back to eating at double-speed, wanting to finish as quickly as she could. I looked at Brad and he was smiling at me. "I'm glad I don't have your job," he said softly.

"It's the best job in the world, Brad," I said, and I turned to Lindsay and kissed her on the top of her head.

* * * * *

We told Wendy's mother that we'd stop by on our way home from the apartment to pick her up. We'd call first to let her know we were on our way.

After stopping at the U-Haul rental and picking up the truck, we stopped at the Mail Box Etc and bought a pile of flat boxes and a roll of packing tape. I drove the truck, with Lindsay sitting beside me, and Brad followed in my car. I'd already phoned the police for their escort and an officer met us at the apartment. The super was located and the situation was explained by the officer. The super accompanied us to the apartment. I used Lindsay's key to open the door.

We all stepped inside, Brad following last with the cart and empty boxes and tape.

"Okay, Sweetheart, let's start here." We were in the livingroom. "Is anything here yours?"

"Only my games and puzzles and coats and boots in the closet and my movies and stuff over there," she said, pointing.

I opened two sets of double doors. "Okay, Sweetheart. Are all these games and puzzles yours?"

She looked up, looking over the stacks. "The puzzles are all mine. That game in the blue box is Mommy's, and so is that white one on top." I pulled out the blue box game and the one on top. Both were adult games. I set them inside the closet on the floor.

"Anything else?" I picked her up so she could see better.

"No, they're all mine."

I set her back down. "You gather your movies and songs, Sweetheart. Put them all on your bed. We'll get these things for you." She set to work. "Brad?" I piled his arms with as many puzzles as he could carry, then followed Lindsay to the bedroom. I started piling my own arms. The officer stood nearby, taking notes. The super sat on the sofa, waiting.

With the closet empty, I shut the doors. "Anything else in here, Sweetheart?"

She walked to a high wall shelf. "Just that vase. I bought it at school at a garbage sale."

"Rummage sale, Sweetheart," I said, smiling at her.

"Oh, yeah." I retrieved her vase. She looked around again. "That's all, Daddy." She was just reaching for the vase when she shouted, "Oh! My music box!"

"Where is it?"

"In Mommy's room. In a drawer." She took the vase and headed for the bedroom, the officer and myself tagging along. Brad waited in the livingroom. "In there," Lindsay said, pointing to a long dresser. She walked to the dresser and pointed. "Here," she said.

I opened the drawer. There were several jewelry boxes there. "Which one?" Again, Lindsay pointed and I picked it up.

"Mommy said I could have it when I grow up."

"Uh oh," I said as I looked at the officer.

He looked Lindsay up and down. "She looks grown up to me. If your ex wants it bad enough, she can sue you for it." He added the box to his list. "But I wouldn't bet on her doing that."

I opened it and a ballerina rose up and music began playing Music Box Dancer by Hagood Hardy. I always loved that tune. There were several rings and other items were in it. "Is this stuff yours, too?" I showed the open box to Lindsay.

"No, just the box."

I opened another jewelry box and moved the items into it. "Nothing else?"

"No, Daddy."

"How about the kitchen?"

"Just my sippy cups."

I smiled. "I think you're a little too old for sippy cups, Sweetheart."

She leaned into me and whispered, "So do I, Daddy."

The officer chuckled loudly. "Scratch the sippy cups."

"Bathroom next, then," I said.

As we passed through the livingroom, Brad asked, "Want me to start packing up her room?"

"No," I told him, "not until the officer can see."

Brad nodded. "I'll start taping boxes then."

We gathered Lindsay's toiletries into a plastic bag which Lindsay had retrieved from the kitchen. Finally, it was off to Lindsay's bedroom. "Okay," I said, "this looks like it, Officer. We'll be taking everything here except that dresser and the computer desk. My mother gave Lindsay that other dresser. It's going with her. And we'll be taking the bed. Lindsay wants it for sleep-overs."

The officer began writing. I opened the closet and dresser drawers so he could see.

"Okay, Mr. de Villiers," the Officer said. "I'll leave the superintendent here to keep an eye open and lock up after you. I trust you won't take anything else?"

I put my hands on Lindsay's shoulders. "The only ‘anything else' I want to take is right here."

The officer held out his hand. "Good luck, Mr. de Villiers." To Lindsay, he said, "And you take good care of your Daddy."

"I will, Mr. Policeman," Lindsay said with a huge grin on her face.

It took only a few hours to pack and load up the truck. Before we left, I got the rental information from the super and explained that I would present proper vacate notice to the landlords and would pay the last two months of rent. I was told she still had seven months remaining on her lease. I'd get Al working on breaking it.

"Do you collect the rents?"

"Yes," the super replied.

"I'll be paying the rent to the courts," I explained. "They will contact you."

"Yes, Sir," he said.

"They'll also be contacting you about having the apartment cleared out and put into storage as soon as we can make the arrangements."

The super nodded.

When Lindsay was certain that she had everything she wanted, we left the apartment for the last time. Lindsay gave her key to the superintendent and he locked the door. Lindsay didn't even look back as we walked down the hallway on our way home.

* * * * *

We were packed and loaded and driving home by four o'clock. Brad drove my car and was on his way to KFC to pick up supper. Lindsay wanted chicken. So, she and I pulled in front of Wendy's house with a U-Haul full of her stuff.

Wendy's mother was a bit surprised until I explained the situation. Wendy, however, was all excited about riding in a big truck. I told Wendy's mother we'd bring her back tomorrow afternoon, then off we went.

Brad had the chicken and salads all set out when we got there. He was waiting to pour the pop until he found out what everyone liked to drink. He'd bought a good assortment.

Brad and I cleaned up the table after dinner as the girls played in Lindsay's room. We were going to set up the bed, but they both decided they wanted to sleep on the air mattresses. We had time to blow them up before we left for the theatre.

I didn't like the movie. I thought it was silly, but the girls loved it. I even heard Brad chuckling occasionally. As promised, we stopped at Tim Horton's for a snack, then back home for bed. I expected the girls to be awake for hours, giggling and playing as little girls do at sleep-overs, but they were pretty tired - especially Lindsay - and were asleep by eleven.

Brad was going to go home for the night, but I talked him into staying. We went to bed shortly after the girls were asleep, and we were sawing our own logs shortly thereafter. Both of us were too tired to pecker up.

* * * * *

Wendy was a dream child. It's no wonder she and Lindsay got along so well. They even played quietly in Lindsay's room until Brad and I woke up on our own. Brad headed for the shower as I helped the girls pick up their bed sheets and unplug the air mattresses. They had a ball squishing out all the air with their feet as I prepared breakfast.

They returned to Lindsay's bedroom after eating and I cleaned up the kitchen. I wasn't begrudging a single penny of the money I'd spent on the dishwasher. Brad started unloading the truck as I cleaned up. We stacked it all in the livingroom until we could sort through it and store what wasn't needed in the basement.

Wendy didn't want to go home, but I promised her she could come back again and stay for a whole weekend sometime. She was happy with that. And she got to ride in the big truck again when I dropped it off at U-Haul.

Sadly, Wendy never came back again after she had told her mother how much fun she'd had with Lindsay and her two Daddies. My first encounter with prejudice. It saddened Lindsay for awhile, but she was making new friends in the neighbourhood and quickly forgot about Wendy. She never did talk about how she felt about that, even when I asked her. All she would say was, "It's okay, Daddy. I have other friends."

We visited Bernice and John when we got back from dropping Wendy off at her home. Bernice had left a note on our door that we were invited to dinner. I'd never had ham done like that before. It was sliced and glazed. I took a bite and my eyes opened wide and I stopped chewing, just letting the flavour flow through me. It was somehow familiar, but there were so many different flavours all mixed up that I couldn't sort through them.

I started chewing again and looked at Bernice. "This is delicious!" I exclaimed. "Can I get the recipe?"

"A thick slice of ham, a squirt of mustard, a fork of brown sugar, and a drizzle of honey. Smush it all together and bake."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

I looked at my plate again. Suddenly, one slice didn't look like enough.

"This is good, Daddy," Lindsay said, trying to cut another slice. She usually did pretty well with her cast, but had some problems slicing meat. This was one of those times. I sliced it for her while she ate her fluffy, white, mashed potatoes.

Cherry pie and ice cream followed for dessert, then we sat around the table sipping coffee and chatting while Lindsay went into Brad's bedroom to play his video game.

"We're thinking of papering your room next week, Bradley," Bernice said.

"I don't like wallpaper in my bedroom," Brad said. His surprise wasn't very well disguised.

"I know," Bernice said. "But I do. I'm turning it into a sewing room. I've always wanted a sewing room."

I saw John taking a sip of his coffee, but the mug couldn't hide his smirk. When he saw me looking at him, he winked.

"A sewing room!? Where am I supposed to sleep!?"

"Well, Bradley," Bernice continued, "if you ever come visit us, I suppose you could sleep on the sofa."

Brad realized he'd been had. "Mom!"

"Actually, Son," John said, "it's been quite pleasant around here lately. We've been enjoying the peace and quiet, but you're still welcome here anytime."

Brad hung his head, blushing and shaking his head back and forth.

"I guess I have been monopolizing him lately," I offered.

John reached out and placed his hand on Brad's arm. "We miss you, Bradley, but this is your decision. If that's where you want to be, then that's where you should be."

Brad placed his hand on his Father's hand and smiled. "Thanks, Dad. That's where I want to be."

"Then that's where you belong." He retrieved his hand and sipped his coffee. "We'll manage."

"How is Lindsay handling it?" Bernice asked.

"I think she knows what's going on," I said. "She may not understand it totally yet, but she knows. I'm just glad Connie didn't leave any serious lasting impressions. I mean, Lindsay hasn't had nightmares or anything like that. She doesn't even ask where her Mother is."

"That's good."

"You don't call her The Bitch anymore," Brad mentioned, his brow pulled down in remembering.

I thought about that for a moment. "I don't see her that way anymore," I said. "I kind of feel sorry for her. She had everything and she threw it all away for greed."

Bernice clicked her tongue and shook her head. "That's so sad, but she was so mean and nasty to both you and Bradley in court that day."

"Oh, that," I said as I sat back in my chair. "She was mad. She thought she had it in the bag. Brad was her best weapon to get Lindsay away from me. When I gave my statement at the beginning, I pulled the rug right out from under her, especially when the Judge told her it was irrelevant. She'd lost her ace in the hole."

"Bernice told me about it, Ted," John said. "You took a big chance. It could have backfired on you and Lindsay could have ended up in Children's Aid."

"Not really, Dad," Brad offered. "It's discrimination if it was used against him."

I continued. "Connie knew that nothing was more important to me than Lindsay. Not even money. I refused to bow to her desires and make her rich. She hated me for that, and, because I took away everything that was precious to her, she was going to take away the only thing that precious to me."

Bernice was nodding her head. "I think I understand now." She looked up at me. "That's why she relinquished all her rights to Lindsay. She was only using Lindsay as a tool, and she thought your relationship with Bradley would have shot you down. She probably thought the courts would prefer to give a child to an abuser rather than a homosexual couple. When she found out otherwise, she knew she couldn't use Lindsay as a tool anymore." She held up a finger as she looked down at the table. "But wait," she added. "If she gave up all parental rights so soon after the trial. . ."

Her voice trailed off and John picked it up. "She never really wanted Lindsay in the first place."

I nodded. "That's why I feel so sorry for her now. I can't imagine not wanting Lindsay in my life. I can only wonder why she didn't."

Lindsay's running footsteps came down the hall from Brad's room. She ran to me and crawled into my lap. "Can I have a cookie, Daddy?"

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead. "There aren't any cookies, Sweetheart."

She whispered in my ear, but everyone heard her. "I know where Grandma hides them."

Brad leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I do, too. I'll get you some." He stood and went to retrieve the cookies and a glass of cold milk.

We chatted more about nothing in particular, sipping coffee and munching chocolate chip cookies. Lindsay managed one whole cookie and a bite from the second cookie before she fell asleep against my chest.

"Would you like to lay her down, Ted?" Bernice asked.

"No," I replied. "I'd like to hold her."

"Such a dear child."

It was getting dark when we went home. Bernice sent more clothes for Brad and a good supply of cookies for Lindsay. "It you and Bradley want some time alone, Ted, Lindsay's welcome to stay here."

"We've got a nice guestroom now," John joked.

"Dad!"

Bernice gave both Lindsay and me a kiss on the cheek, even though Lindsay was still asleep for hers. John shook my hand. Brad kissed them both and received a kiss on the cheek from each of them.

Lindsay stirred as I was undressing her. "Pee, Daddy," she whimpered. I took her to the bathroom, and soon she was changed into her nightgown and tucked into bed, sound asleep.

I joined Brad in the livingroom. He had a beer for each of us. His IOU paper was still stuck to the bulletin board, but we didn't make marks on it anymore. "I never thought it would be like this, Ted."

"Hmm?"

"Well, I was worried before. I was afraid I'd be in the way here. I was afraid I'd keep you away from Lindsay. I don't know how you do it, but you're always there for both of us. Whichever one of us needs you, you're there."

"It's a job I wouldn't want to get paid for."

Brad turned to me and kissed me. "I'm starting to feel like I belong in this family."

"You do," I told him.

"But it's not what I thought it would be. I thought you'd go to work and I'd go to school. When we got together, we'd have sex. When Lindsay was here, we'd wait until she went to bed and then we'd have sex."

"Are you saying we're not having enough sex?"

"No. I'm saying that's what I thought it would be like. There's a whole lot more to being a family than I thought. The sex is fun, but it's not as important as I thought it would be, and, when it happens, it's a lot better than I could hope for."

"Brad," I said, "it's late. I'm tired. It's been a tough week. I'm not following you."

He turned to me and took my hands in his. "I'm saying, Ted, that I like this. I like being with you and I like being with Lindsay. I like being part of this family. And I love sleeping in the same bed with you. I love that you're not hung up on my pants all the time. I'm here because you want me here. Not just for the sex, but just because I'm with you."

I smiled at him. "Well, I'm kinda glad you packed your shorts when you came. But I think I know what you mean. And both Lindsay and I. . ." I kissed him. "Love. . ." I kissed him. "You. . ." I kissed him. "Being. . ." I kissed him. "Here." I kissed him for a long, long time.

* * * * *

By Wednesday, our bedroom was painted and everything was set back into place. All the boxes in the livingroom were sorted through and everything was put away where it should be. Lindsay had all the things she wanted in her room and a few of her collections now decorated the livingroom and kitchen and den where everyone could enjoy them as well. That made her happy. Her Mother had never allowed them out of her room.

It was late Wednesday night, now. Lindsay was in bed, sound asleep. Brad and I sat on the sofa, holding each other and staring at the phone. I'd been a nervous wreck all day. I waited for the phone to ring at work, and now, at home, I sat there waiting some more. At least Brad was there waiting with me.

Warren's surgery should have been over hours ago. By the afternoon, actually, or at least early evening. Bill had promised he would phone, but he hadn't. It was well-past midnight, but I refused to budge. I'd stay awake all night if necessary. Brad held me that night, stroking my arm and kissing my hair. We didn't speak. He just held me as I watched the telephone, willing it to ring.

It was 3:13 on Thursday morning when it finally rang, and it scared the hell out of me. It rang two times before I could move.

I picked it up and placed it sideways to my ear. Brad moved close so he could hear.

"Bill?" I said.

To Be Continued​

 

[Kyanimal]

Oh, Man! Those chapters end in the darndest places!!!

 

[sheep]

There you go with one of your famous cliffhangers! hehe

 

[gsdx]

There you go with one of your famous cliffhangers! hehe

Keeps you getting in line for the next chapter, though.

 

[kcm17480]

You really know where to end these parts. Waiting for the next.

 

[harry113]

Uh Oh ..... suspense again !!!!
I do so hope Warren is ok.
Next part sooooon, P_LEEEEASE
Harry