WATCHING BRAD
Part XXII
"Hi, Teddy." Warren's voice could barely be classified as a hoarse whisper, but it screamed in my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, closing off the tears. Brad's strong arm pulled me against him and his other hand clamped onto my thigh. "Still here," he added.
I found my voice somewhere. "Hi, Warren."
There was a rustling sound, and then Bill's voice came over the receiver. "Hi, Ted. Bill here. Sorry for the keeping you up so late. Warren made me make a promise before they took him in for surgery. If he survived, he wanted to be the one to tell you."
I couldn't talk. My body was shaking and I was crying my relief. Every tear washed a little bit of the anxiety of the past few days out of me. Brad grabbed my hand to hold the phone steady.
"Hi, Bill," Brad said. "It's Brad. Ted can't talk right now, but he can hear you."
"Okay, thanks, Brad," Bill went on. "Ted? Warren's asleep again already. He woke up just a few minutes ago and I called you. He's still fifty-fifty, but the doctor said the odds would get a lot better if he makes it through the night."
I nodded. "Thanks, Bill," Brad said. "How are you holding up?"
"I've been prepared for this for a long time. That counsellor Ted found for us was a dream. I think that's why I'm not a dish of Jell-o. Is Ted alright?"
"I'm okay," I said raggedly. It didn't sound like my voice. "I was just so scared, Bill."
"I was, too, pal," Bill said. "But I knew I would be when I signed up for this." He paused only a moment. "Look, Ted, I'm not sure what you said to him, but everything changed when you came up with Lindsay that day and Brad didn't come with you. Warren loves you more than you know, pal. After your visit, it was like he couldn't die without knowing that you were okay, and when he found out that you were, it was like he didn't want to die just so he could see how happy you are now. If it wasn't for you, Ted, I think I'd be dressed in black right now."
"Thanks, Bill. Is there anything I can do?" I asked. My voice still wavered.
"No," Bill answered. "It's up to Warren now, but he's not going to give up without one helluva fight. He'll be here awhile before he can come home, but when he does, the first people he wants to see is you and Lindsay and Brad."
"Is he allowed visitors?"
"Just me. He'll be in intensive care for awhile yet, but I'll call as soon as he's in a room. You could visit him then."
"Thanks, Bill."
"Okay, pal. Talk to you later, eh? I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how he is."
"Thanks for calling. Goodbye."
"Bye."
Brad had to hang up the phone. I was a goner. I just collapsed in tears. He was wonderful. He got me to my feet and led me to the bedroom. He undressed me and put me to bed, then he went out to shut down the house for the night. He came back in, undressed, made sure the alarm clock was set, turned out the table lamp, and got into bed. He kissed me goodnight, and then he held me all night long as I slept.
* * * * *
By lunchtime the next day, Warren's chances were bumped up to sixty-forty. By the time I got home from work that afternoon, they were seventy-thirty. I don't know what the odds were when I went to bed. Seventy-thirty was good enough for me, and I slept like a baby that night.
* * * * *
Brad and I spent the whole weekend alone. Bernice and John had taken Lindsay to stay overnight on Friday and we had spent the whole night making the best love we could, experimenting and trying new things, but only with our mouths and hands. We hadn't advanced to other more exotic things yet.
Somehow, Brad managed to coax three orgasms out of me. I can't remember the last time I'd had three orgasms in one day, let alone just a few hours. I managed to get four orgasms out of him. The first one was with just my mouth. My jaws were killing me, but I refused to give in and stuck with it to the very end. I still couldn't get much more than the head in my mouth, but Brad was more than happy with that. He showed me how happy he was by pumping his juice into me. The first shot almost sent me into a panic. I knew his power and amount, and I thought I was prepared for it, but it was like a whole package of Pop Rocks going of in my mouth all at the same time. I almost gagged, but I managed to swallow it, ready for the next volley. It was something I wanted desperately, and I made myself do it. I took it right to the very end.
Brad kissed me for ten minutes after that.
Later, as we sat in the bathtub together - for the first time, but certainly not the last - he said, "You can call me Bradley if you want."
"Don't you like me calling you Brad?"
"Yes, but I don't mind if you want to call me Bradley."
"You don't even like that name."
"I do if you say it."
"Do you mind if I just call you Brad?"
"No."
"Then I want to call you Brad."
"Okay," he said. And then he said, "And I want to live here. Can I?"
By noon on Saturday noon, all of Brad's things were in my house and his old bedroom was officially the Hayes' guestroom. Lindsay had talked me into letting her stay another night with Grandma and Grandpa.
"She's no trouble, Ted," Bernice had assured me. "We love having her here."
"Grandma's going to help me make brownies!" Lindsay said as I held her in my arms. "Please let me stay, Daddy?"
"Well," I said, "as long as Grandma and Grandpa don't mind." Lindsay had begun calling John ‘Grandpa' a few days ago.
John spoke up. "Believe me, Ted," he said quietly and with a kind smile on his face, "this house hasn't felt this happy since Bradley was a boy." His eyes glanced at his wife and I knew precisely what he meant.
"Okay, Sweetheart," I told my daughter. "You can stay." She kissed me with a loud smack on the lips. "I'll go home and get some clean clothes and a clean nightgown, okay?"
"Perhaps you could bring some things she could leave here?" Bernice added hopefully. "Bradley's dresser looks so empty now."
"Sure," I smiled. "I can find some things to bring over."
So, Brad had moved out and Lindsay had moved in. Brad left his television and gaming system there for Lindsay whenever she visited, including all his hand-held games. She had more than enough to keep her occupied while she was there.
We left his things still packed in garbage bags and boxes, lying on the bedroom floor. We showered together, changed, and went out for the rest of the day. I wore shorts and a shirt. It was too hot for pants. Brad was the ‘man in white' again, with white, thigh-length shorts and a crisp, white T-shirt. I have to admit, I enjoyed the attention he garnered. He was stunningly beautiful if I may say so myself.
His shorts were loose enough to hide him, but not so loose that people couldn't see how lucky he was. His T-shirt was another thing, though. Skin-tight. His nipples poked out in little bumps and it clung to his pecs and stomach and back as if he had simply painted himself white. There wasn't anything on it - no decals or witty sayings - but it certainly did its job in drawing people's attention away from what lingered below.
The first thing we did, which I had decided upon since we'd had our first bath together the night before, was to go shopping for a hot tub. I wanted one. I'd wanted one for a long time, and now I could afford it. It would fit nicely on the back patio. I found a nice kit. Small, but big enough for four people, and it came complete with steps, privacy fencing, locking gate, a surrounding deck, and an insulating cover. The tub was certified for Canadian winters, but I didn't expect to be using it when the windchill is thirty below. The price included installation, which would be done before the next weekend.
Oh, and I bought Lindsay one of those Dolphino pools from Canadian Tire. We couldn't dive in it, but it looked like it would be fun to splash around in. And I couldn't wait to see Brad in a Speedo. I made him buy a few. As Eric Idle would say, "Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. Say no more. Say no more."
Brad didn't think he could install the security fence I wanted around the pool, so we went fence shopping and ordered one. I told them the size of the pool and they calculated the size of fence I would need. It would take two days to drill the holes, pour the concrete, and erect the fence. They could do the drilling and pouring the next Saturday and finish up on Monday. That was fine with me. Of course, we'd have to wait until Lindsay's cast came off before she could really enjoy it, but at least we could get her wet.
We stopped off at a pub for a beer and watched some cricket on the big-screen television for awhile. I didn't understand the game, but it was interesting to watch. "Man!" Brad said. "F-Zero would look incredible on something like that!"
"Dream on, Brad," I told him with a small grin. But, I knew what Brad was going to get for Christmas.
We just talked and laughed and sipped at our beers, and then it happened. It wasn't the beer. We hadn't had enough of that to get even light-headed. Brad was just looking at me, and then he said, "I love you," and he kissed me - right there - on the lips. It wasn't a big kiss. Just big enough to show his words in action. When he pulled away again, I took a quick glance around. Everyone was going on with their own business. The only people looking at us were a pair of gentlemen about my age, and one of them smiled at me and winked.
Brad apologized soon after. "I shouldn't have done that to you, but I had to see if I could."
I just looked at him for a moment and said, "I love you, too, Brad." And I kissed him back.
We didn't kiss in the restaurant I took him to later for dinner, but we held hands.
* * * * *
"The days with you just keep getting better and better," Brad said as we sat on the sofa at home, our feet propped up on the coffee table. A DVD was playing on television, but I don't even remember which movie it was. It doesn't matter, really. I wasn't watching it. The lights were turned down low and we sat there in just our underwear. My mind wasn't focused on the television screen.
I was feeling quite comfortable in these new briefs now. I liked the way they felt and Brad liked the way they looked on me. I made a mental note to toss the tightie-whities the next day.
The movie finished and I clicked it off and shut down the television. When I settled back into the sofa, Brad started kissing me. It was just a kiss at first, and it became a whole lot more quickly enough. His hand was in my underwear and pulling my swiftly-hardening cock free of the cotton polyester blend. He hooked the waistband under my balls and sank my shaft into his mouth. I put my hand on his back and my hips pushed upward.
I could feel the head of my cock pressing against his throat and I could feel it tightening and closing. Brad pulled back a bit, sucked air through his nose, and moved downward again. Once more, I was pressed against the entrance to his throat, but he didn't stop this time. I could feel his throat relaxing, and suddenly I was slipping inside. His face dropped then and, a moment later, I could feel the stubble of his cheek tickling my balls.
I'm glad Lindsay wasn't there. My groan of pleasure exploded into the silence of the livingroom like a crash of thunder. I called out Brad's name. He'd done it! I could feel him swallow around me, and then his head was moving - up and down, and each time it went down, I pushed into his throat.
I didn't last long. I couldn't. I'd never felt anything so incredible in my life. Only minutes later, I was grasping his hair in ecstacy as I pumped my seed into him.
I fell back into the sofa, exhausted beyond belief. My eyes were closed as I waited for my body to come down from the highest high it had ever known. And then I felt the shaking. I opened my eyes and turned my head. Brad had his left thumb holding his underwear under his balls, his right hand flying fast and furiously over his cock. He wasn't just jerking off. He was making himself cum, and that was all. There was no time for fun and games. His orgasm was the only thing on his mind, and it was the only thing on my mind, too.
I bent over and took the head of his cock into me. He stiffened significantly, his entire body tensing at the new sensations, and he continued stroking himself. I sucked as hard as I could, and Brad's groan of ecstasy was soon echoing mine. I steeled myself for the barrage, and I wasn't disappointed. It came hard and fast this time, and with far more power than before, but I held on valiantly and took it all. Brad was much too precious to allow any part of him escape me.
It took a long time for him to calm down after that one, and I held him and kissed him until he did. When he could speak again, his first words were, "It was so-o-o-o-o worth waiting nineteen years for you to come along."
I replied, "It was
more than worth the thirty-two years I had to wait for you."
We kissed again, and then we went to bed.
* * * * *
We were eating breakfast the next morning. We hadn't dressed following our shower together, and we were sitting there, naked. I'd never eaten a meal while I was naked in my life. But Brad wanted to do it, so I wanted to do it with him. It wasn't too bad after my ass warmed up the chair.
I was just about to take a bite of toast when Brad said, "Your cum tastes different."
I grinned, my eyebrows rising in surprise. "Say what?"
"Your cum," he explained. He kept on eating breakfast as if he were talking about the weather. "It doesn't taste the same as it did before."
"Maybe you're just getting used to it," I offered.
"No. It's different. It's not as bitter as it was before."
"Sorry," I apologized. "I didn't know I was bitter."
"It was. I didn't mind it. I still liked it because it was yours, but I like it better now. I think it was the cigarettes."
"I didn't know cigarettes could change the taste of semen."
"Sure. I read about it. Now I can taste the beer instead of the cigarettes."
"Aw, come on, Brad," I said. "Now I
know you're pulling my leg."
"No, I'm not. Honest."
"Are you telling me you can get drunk giving a blowjob to an alcoholic?" I couldn't help but laugh at all this.
"No, of course not," he said. "But you would be able to tell what he drinks." He looked at me. "I'm not joking, Ted. It's true. Haven't you noticed?"
I stopped laughing and began remembering. "No."
"Well, maybe not," he admitted as he went back to eating his breakfast. "I haven't been drinking beer that long. The next time you cum, taste it. You'll see."
I did. That night. He was right.
* * * * *
It was a fun weekend. Lindsay didn't want to come home and, frankly, I don't think Bernice wanted her to come home, either. She finally came home, though, with a plate full of chocolate brownies and a promise that she could go back again for another weekend.
Before I left for work the next morning, Brad asked me, "How much can I spend on the landscaping?"
"I haven't even seen your pictures yet."
He winked. "I want it to be a surprise. How much can I have?"
"How much do you need?"
"I can do a so-so job for about a grand."
"How much would you
like to have then?"
"Fifteen hundred?"
There was no resisting that beautiful face, especially when he held his mouth open like that and showed me his chipped tooth. "Two grand, tops," I said, and he grinned, wrapped his arms around me and gave me a great, big kiss. Lindsay giggled from somewhere nearby.
I shoved Brad back and pulled my wallet out of my pocket. I fished through the credit cards until I found the one I wanted and handed it to him. "I've already added your name to it."
He took the card and looked at it, then he looked at me. "You really trust me this much?"
"Yes, I do, Brad."
He kissed me again and I had to push him away again. "I'm going to be late for work. See you tonight."
When I drove into the driveway, Brad was still digging. He wore his sneakers and his cut-offs. My front yard was a mess. There were holes and piles of dirt and sod everywhere. I walked up to him and kissed him.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
"I've got a pretty good idea now," he said with a grin. "It only took me twenty minutes to figure out which end of this spade to stick in the ground."
I looked around at the instruments propped up against the house and lying about the yard. "I've never owned a spade in my life. Where did these come from?"
"Some from Dad, but I had to go out and buy a few," he said proudly. "Don't worry, Ted. I won't go a penny over two grand."
"I know you won't. Look, I'm going to go change. Need any help here?"
"No," he said as he glanced around. "I want to do this by myself. Could you call me when supper's ready? All I had was a bologna sandwich for lunch. I'm kinda hungry. Oh, the pool was delivered."
"Good. I'll get right on dinner." I gave him another peck on the lips and went inside. "Lindsay! I'm home!"
Lindsay came running from the livingroom. "Daddy! Look!", she yelled. "Look what I'm making for you!"
She held up a square piece of thin plastic with a grid pattern on it. Part of it was already stitched with strips of blue yarn and a thread of it was dangling with a large, fat needle hanging on the end of it.
"It's a coaster!" she said proudly, her face beaming up at me.
"You shouldn't be running with this needle, Sweetheart."
"It's round, Daddy," she said, taking the needle in one hand and pushing it against the palm of her other hand. "It's not sharp. See?"
"Still, I don't want you to run with it, okay? If you fall, it can still stick in you."
"Okay, Daddy, I won't."
I looked at my coaster again and I was very impressed.
"Terry's teaching me to do it," she announced. Terry appeared behind Lindsay, holding her handbag. "I tried to stop her, Mr. Dee, but she was gone before I could. I hope you don't mind. I was just teaching her how to do plastic canvas needlework."
"It's very beautiful," I said, looking back at my coaster. I handed it back to Lindsay, then picked her up and gave her the proudest kiss I could give her. "I love it, Sweetheart. I can't wait to use it."
"Oh," Terry said, "I thawed out some steaks for your dinner for you. The potatoes and carrots are peeled and on the stove. Mrs. Hayes brought over an apple pie for dessert."
"Thank you, Terry," I said, "but that's not part of your job."
"I don't mind. Besides, Lindsay helps me, too, so I'm sort of doing my job." Her smile was enchanting and I knew she was doing all these extra things because she wanted to and not because she had to.
Terry squatted down in front of Lindsay. "If you can finish this all the way around the outside tonight, I'll show you how to fill in the middle tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay, Terry."
"Do you remember how to tuck the yarn underneath and go around corners?"
"Yup," my daughter said with a proud grin.
"Good. I'll see you tomorrow morning." She stood up. To me, she said, "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Terry," I said. "Thank you."
She blinked and nodded. "She really can't hurt herself with that needle, but just keep your eye on her."
"I will," I promised.
Lindsay sat at the kitchen table working on her needlework while I prepared dinner. "Sweetheart, would you tell Brad to start cleaning up? Dinner's almost ready and I want him to shower, first."
She was off without a word.
I was getting to enjoy this family life again. Even my best years with Connie had never been like this. I was content, and, between you and me, I didn't care what Brad did when he finished college. I felt it was my job to take care of him now, just like any other partner I had been with. I didn't care if he was a man. He was
my man, and I was the breadwinner in the family. Mind you, I didn't want him to become a housewife or anything. He had his own life to live just the same. He had to do what he wanted to do. I'm just saying that I was prepared to look after him as long as I was able.
Lindsay came back in, ran to the bathroom, and grabbed a towel. "Where are you going with that?" I shouted as she ran through the kitchen again.
"Brad needs it!" she shouted back.
"Is he okay!?"
"Yes!"
And then I heard the front door slam shut.
She came back in, set her needlework aside, and began setting the table. It was her daily chore.
Brad came in the back door a few minutes later, barefoot, and his shorts and underwear in his hand. The towel was wrapped around his waist. He went to the basement door and tossed his clothes down the steps. "I'll wash them when I'm showered." He trucked himself off to the bathroom and, moments later, I heard the shower running.
"He was dirty," Lindsay said with a titter. "And he stinked."
Brad devoured his steak and I gave him half of mine as well. Guess he'd worked up quite the appetite digging up my yard. I watched him eat. I liked watching him eat. I liked watching him do nothing at all, actually.
That's when I thought about my favourite thing to watch him do. And that's when I thought about ‘my little secret'. I chuckled to myself then, because now I had
two little secrets.
To Be Continued