Date: Thu, 29 Mar 2007 17:12:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Matthew Templar <matemp1148@yahoo.com>
Subject: Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 6

     This chapter is dedicated to Clayton.  May this and the
whole world of 'Never...'give you many hearty laughs and a
few 'ah-h-hs', followed by some of the peace you are
seeking.  Have fun, my friend.  Your character sure did!
     To the rest of you out there that are too scared to
express yourselves, let me tell you that writing is a
wonderful way to let it out; let you out.
     Talk to me.  I want to know.
     For those that are hurting, that have been abused or
unloved, no matter what happens in this story, I would
never, ever let one of my guys be mistreated.  While this is
fiction, consent is a key ingredient, surpassed only by
love.

                              ***

     All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy
for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be
reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews,
without the written permission of the author.
     Furthermore, every word of this story is fiction.
Nothing within this tale happened to anyone I know.  Any
reference to anyone, anything or any place, real, living or
dead is coincidental.
     If there is someone that has written a law saying that
you can't read this story because of age or local laws or
other such 'wisdom', then you haven't really gotten this far
into Nifty to read this anyway, right!  Write to me with the
date of your legal birthday and I will...Not!
     While the main thrust (try not to get excited by the
graphic words before you even get to the story) of this work
is not sex, there will be those times when it will occur
between consenting adults and at least one consenting minor.
There will never be a plethora of sexual trysts in this
story.  Though there will be some, I found myself caught up
in the hearts of the characters, not their libidos.  There
will be a lot of bedroom scenes, but their emphasis will be
on sleeping and waking and things like that, spiced
occasionally with something to let the characters sleep more
peacefully.  You don't have to wait to express your opinion
as I would also appreciate knowing if you are enjoying this
story.  I will answer all appropriate emails, but, thank you
in advance for your time.
     Finally, there is not enough room to express my
gratitude to Dwight Wilson for his dedication to resolving
the problems I had with making legible sense out of this
work and then encouraging me to hit the 'Submit' button.
Read Brad's Idol in Adult/Youth and New Horizons in
Authoritarian to know the experience he brings to my story.

     Your comments and suggestions are welcome.
     Matthew at matemp1148@yahoo.com


       Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 6

     We were finally dry and I was just laying a naked Grant
down in my hospital bed.  I hadn't heard from him for awhile
but his look said his dreams were wonderful.  I'd wrapped my
towel around my waist so I could get him settled and warm,
and keep myself in check.  I thought that I would get each
of us a set of clean scrubs after I got him settled in.  I
straightened up for one last look before I covered him with
bed covers.  He was so beautiful.  He was such a little man
in some ways; such a big boy in others.  While his naivet‚
was compelling, his body was stunning.  He was a light cream
color everywhere with a few areas of pink except for where
his shirt sleeves stopped to let the sun darken his skin on
his arms.  His sandy brown hair swirled around his face most
of the time.  It drove me nuts until I realized that mine
was getting to be almost that long too.  But his was so
silky fine and lush I could have played with it, stroking it
and him all day long; no, even longer.

     He was lying on his side; his knees were not all the
way up to his chest.  I couldn't resist it.  Standing at the
foot of the bed, I took hold of both ankles and pulled
gently until he was lying straight, then rolled him onto his
back.  Wow!  I was hooked on one ten year old boy.  But what
I knew I saw and, mostly, felt here wasn't just a desire to
be a part of his sexual education and his adventurous
exploits into a world of passion such that I didn't even
know where it could lead.  I also saw his raw beauty and
energy, his magnificent sense for learning and commitment,
and I had to be a part of that too.

     He was so cute in every boyish way, but, at the same
time, I could see the beginnings of a man; a man of whom
both his dad and grampa would be proud.  The form of his
arms and legs suggested the sinew beneath was ready to burst
when it was called for to be larger for the work of a man
from Euphoria.  Even though his young body was tight and
thin, even a bit underfed, I could tell he would be powerful
just like his grampa and his dad.  His chest was not quite
flat.  He was still a few years from easing out of his
girlish body to fill his skin with the pectorals of a young
stud and head turner.  His tummy was a little rounded from
his youthfulness, not fat.  His hips stuck up a bit too far,
suggesting that he could be eating a bit more.  Just seeing
him breathe in and out was causing my towel to begin to
expand in front.  His little belly button was just a small
round hole surrounded by a ring of skin, accenting instead
of taking away from his beauty.  My hands reached out to
hold his sides as high as I could and, reaching around as
far as I could, I slid them down his narrow rump until they
rested under his butt cheeks, where it came back to form his
thighs.  Just as I thought, a girl's bottom.  He would keep
that until he started his journey into manhood with the
advent of puberty.

     I used to pride myself on noticing a person's butt and
telling pretty accurately whether it belonged to a boy or
girl.  A girl's bottom started a slow curve from the waist
to the top of the butt cheek, but a boy becomes a man when
his rump is muscled enough to come almost straight out from
his waist to start its strong curve to meet his legs a ways
lower.  Grant wasn't old enough to have that shape yet.  But
the feel of him, as I discovered his waist and bottom, was
incredible.  He was so silky smooth and pliable.  I wanted
to grab him up and squeeze him and mold him and do things to
show him how much I loved him being there with me; helping
me to see how much love I had to give, instead of just take.
I couldn't help taking a deep breath when I thought about
how he argued with his dad to actually want to stay with me.

     So, here I was, standing before this wonderful
creation.  I was bent slightly with my hands just behind his
thighs.  This put my eyes right in the middle of his sweet
form; right at his little boy package.  His little penis was
almost pulled all the way up into his crotch to protect it
from the chill.  It was several shades redder than the skin
around it and completely exposed by the lack of hair
anywhere.  It was just a nubbin of skin and one eye looking
out of its warm place between two silky thighs.  His nuts
were barely that; tiny little acorns lost in a soft, velvety
smooth bag with nothing to do but wait the two to four years
for their maturity, when they would grow to explode Grant
into a grown up world of pleasure.  Until then, I thought,
as I reached out and tenderly rubbed them between my fingers
and thumb, they would only exist for the pleasure of the
person holding them.  I noticed two wonderful results of my
loving him just then.  One was a soft moan and smile from my
little guy.  I was sure that my manipulations were adding to
the sensations he related to his dream that night. The other
inevitable result was that he started to grow.  Okay, okay,
I had been hard and getting harder since I laid him down but
I was thinking about him right now.  His cock was coming
alive to poke out and see what was making it feel so good.
My hands went immediately to help in the aid of its
discovery; to help make it even bigger and harder.  What a
responsibility for me to take on.

     I rubbed and played at his crouch (it was much too
small a package to only play with part of it with my two big
paws.)  He moaned and grew a little more.  Unconsciously.
his legs spread a bit to  give me more access to have my way
with him.  He grew to a whole three inches maybe.  Pretty
good, I guess, for one so young.  Of course, he had a ways
to go before he was at my size and quite a ways to reach his
grampa's size.  The feelings my fingers were enjoying were
exquisite.  He was soft yet hard.  A tiny spike nestled with
two hard peas in their pillow of down-filled softness.  His
moan brought me to what sensibility I had left.  But I had
to feel him one more time at least.

     I just had to stretch my arms as far up his body as I
could.  I couldn't help myself.  I wouldn't even feel bad if
I woke him up by my selfish attention, almost a need;
definitely a need.  I laid my hands over each nipple and,
not too slowly, slid them the entire length of his body,
thumbs finding my favorite spots at his waist as they passed
by, all the way down to his toes.  But this caused him to
bring his legs up to his chest, exposing something I had
almost forgotten about in my lust for his front.

     As his knees pulled into his chest, I held his thighs
to keep him from rolling over to one side.  There, between
two creamy white cheeks of boy flesh was a crevasse that
went almost all the way under him.  It was a tad more pink
then his front and was stretched tight by his position.  I
slowly felt my way around until my thumbs could almost touch
above this valley between his legs.  Then I pressed forward
until my thumbs found their way to the very depths of his
boy crack.  Grant sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly at
the feeling.  I looked up to see his eyes closed and the
beginning of a smile on his face.

     I gently squeezed each cheek and pulled them apart
until his little pucker was looking back at me.  I brought
one hand into this valley and spread my fingers to keep him
open while my other hand traced his valley from top to
bottom.  He cooed and tried to bring his feet closer to his
bottom higher but his knees opened just a little more.  I
felt once more through this passage but this time I stopped
at his boy hole.  I had never thought about someone's
opening being so sensual.  I was as hard as I had ever been
feeling and caressing the most magnificent wonder before me.
His hole was so silky and warm.  I had no experience as to
what to expect.  It wasn't until later that I realized that
I was never concerned about touching him in such a 'dirty'
place.  After all, he'd just finished his third shower of
the day.

     I began to stroke and massage his little passage and
was pleasantly rewarded by his moans.  It occurred to me
that many men and boys liked to penetrate just such a
wonderful place for their own pleasure.  For the first time
I could understand the intrigue of just such a goal but I
also thought about what would feel the
best to my little Grant, lying there so innocently.  I
rubbed just a little harder a few more seconds to amuse
myself by the growing intensity of his deepened moaning.
Then I gently lay him on his side and pushed up the sheet to
cover his young body.
"Quite a wonderful little boy; isn't he?" said a male  voice
behind me.

     I had been stretched over Grant and the bed to get the
sheet up to his chin, and, in my shock and surprise at
another person being in the room, I quickly turned to see
who had been looking on and for how long.  The result of my
turning against the end of the bed was one end of the towel
stayed between me and the bed while the rest of the towel
came nicely apart, exposing everything to our visitor as I
came around to face him.

     "Huh?"  Alright!  I was at a loss for the right thing
to say when I thought someone had just witnessed me laying a
young, naked boy into my bed.  The situation had never come
up before.

      "I was just enjoying your loving him.  He's beautiful,
but then, so are you, if I may say so."

     In the doorway to the room was a man of about thirty in
a white uniform.  With only a few seconds to take in his
features I could see that his slightly tight clothes showed
off a well defined body and stiffening problem just below
his waist.  He was very handsome and had a very pleasant
smile on his face.  It took me a second longer before I
registered why he wasn't looking me in the face.  I followed
his line of sight to my front until I saw that I was
pointing at him with my...

     "I didn't mean to spy on you.  I came to bring you
another bed but I can see that it wouldn't be used tonight,"
his voice had a nice gentle sound to it.  In another
situation, I might have found some relaxing quality to its
tone.

     "I-I-I can explain?"  Yes.  It was a question.  There
was no way I could explain what he might have seen and still
talk my way out of several years in a little concrete room
with a brute that called me his little baby-doll.

     "No need to," he said as he walked toward me.   "I saw
enough to know that your love for him was too strong to ever
even consider violating him.  I can also appreciate what you
see in him, though my tastes are for boys somewhat older
than your little one, older than you and me for that
matter."

     I was really getting confused and it must have shown.
He came up close enough to put his hand on my bare shoulder.
Even in my state of mind I saw that he just got more
handsome the closer he got to me.  I could also feel the
effect he was having on me in another, more exposed area of
my blushing body.

     "Hi!  I'm Clayton, your nurse for tonight, and you must
be David," he said in such a gentle way I almost didn't
notice that his hand was coming up for me to shake.  Funny.
Even though I raised my hand to shake his, they never met.
Then I felt why!  He gently grasped my aching cock and gave
it a few gentle shakes.  His smile belied his joke and,
after sucking in a huge breath at the wonderful feeling, I
joined him with my own smile.

     He moved closer, as if he were going to hug me, never
letting go of his prize, looked over my shoulder and asked,
"And who is our little cherub there, David?"

     "I, uh, its, I mean he's..."  Alright!  What would you
say if you were caught naked in a room with a ten year old
boy you had just been playing with and were confronted by
this remarkable looking god who had captured your manhood,
literally?  That's what I thought!  At that instant I was
less concerned about being found out as I was with creaming
the front of his whites!

     He began to move to the side and it was evident by his
manipulations that he wasn't concerned with his uniform but
that he also wanted me to come around and lay on the bed.  I
was practically tiptoeing to keep up with him and to lessen,
somehow, the effects of his stroking.  As marvelous as it
felt and as wonderful as he looked and smelled, I was with
the one I truly desired, and that was Grant.  We moved to
the side of the bed and he raised both hands to hold me by
the arms and sit me on the bed. All I could do was glare
into his face with what I was sure was a ridiculous look on
my face that did well to hide any intellect or maturity that
I might have gained in my 21 years.  He was obviously having
a great time at my expense.

     "David, just sit here while I apply more salve to your
burns. I'll be as gentle as I can."

     "Uh-huh," I said.  It wouldn't have surprised me if I
found out I was drooling.  He reached into his pocket and
pulled out a tube of the ointment that was constantly a thin
layer over most of my body for the last few days.  I watched
as he removed the cap and squirted some of the thick, white
goo onto his gloved fingers.  He began at my shoulders and
almost covered every inch of my front with soothing, soft
fingers.  It had never felt like this when O'Hara applied
the same cream.  He touched places that had me fidgeting and
squirming.  At first, I tried to move away from his touching
but was soon pushing into his hands as they worked me over
until I was a babbling idiot.

     "Okay, David.  I need you to turn around and lean over
the bed so I can do your back now."  His wish was my
command.  If he'd told me to go rob a bank...but of course,
he didn't.  Luckily, they were probably closed at that hour.
I turned and immediately made myself available to his
continued caresses, I mean, medical treatment.

     "This shouldn't take too long."

     "Damn!" I thought to myself.

     "Okay, then.  Maybe it will take awhile.  We have
all night." I did it again!

      "I'm  sorry," I said, "That last sentence wasn't
supposed to
leak out."

      "I heard nothing.  I just looked at your eyes as
you  looked back, over your shoulder.  You  know,  you
really  have remarkable skin."  He talked as he deftly
massaged more cream into my body, covering every  inch
from  my  neck to my waist.  "It's so soft and smooth.
I  don't think you'll have much scarring, but  I'd  be
glad  to  check on you after you're released from  the
hospital to make sure you are healing properly."

     "Uh-huh."  He was probably drawn to me by my gift
for intelligent conversation.

     For a minute or two more we were both silent as I
enjoyed his firm hands moving sensually all over my
back, slowly progressing lower and lower until I
realized he was beginning to look for scar tissue
between my own two posterior cheeks.

     "Uh, I didn't think there was any burning there,"
I purred. As the words escaped my lips I wanted to
suck them back in.  What was I thinking?  Why on earth
would I want him to stop any of his delicious
massaging, no matter where it took him or me?

      "Well,  we  can't be too sure now, can  we?   It
might have
spread.  I need to make sure you're okay everywhere."

     "Huh?  Oh yeah.  I wasn't thinking."  Ha!  Not
since he walked into the room had I had an intelligent
thought.  So I concentrated on what I knew best:
moaning and gurgling like some spaz in the throws of
ecstasy, which is exactly what I was.

     Both hands were doing to me exactly what I had
just experienced with Grant a few minutes before.  The
only difference was his experience and deftness and the
stronger pressure he applied.  As his fingers moved
back and forth over my own not-so-boyish hole I felt
him slow down and begin to do small circles over my
very epicenter.  I groaned a little when I felt his
fingers leave and sighed when they returned with more
cream.  I wasn't capable of any thoughts or fears of
what might happen back there.

     I was only able to bask in the enjoyment of the
feelings that were heating up my body like never
before.  The coolness of the large amount of cream
soon left but I couldn't help commenting to my
caretaker.

     "Why does it feel so cool?  It has always felt
warm up until
now."

     "That's because this is a different type of cream.
It's made to do what I'm about to do for you."

     "Oh."  I had no idea what he just said and was in
no condition to understand its implications if I had.
He continued for a few minutes to circle my nether
region.  Then he concentrated on the hole itself.  I
probably could have enjoyed it more if it wasn't for
the constant moaning I heard from somewhere.  It seemed
strange that it changed in tone as I felt my mouth let
more saliva escape. I was totally incoherent until his
finger slipped into my core.  I gasped and his other
hand immediately began to rub my back.  His finger
slowly moved in and out just a fraction of an inch.
Soon, I sighed at the sensation that enveloped me and I
felt my body relax around its intruder.  It seemed to
invite Clayton's finger in for a visit to a room that
was much farther down the hallway it had just entered.
It surprised me that it could feel so wonderful.

     I really had no way to know how far his finger
went into me. Sometimes it felt like he was barely in
me and other times it felt like he was tickling my
Adam's apple from the inside.  Once or twice he hit
something in me that had me bouncing off the bed.  It
was so strong that I think I might have blacked out for
just a second, each time I felt that contact.  Then, as
the feelings seemed to just begin to reach some unseen
peak of unbelievable pleasure, he gently pulled out of
me.  I felt a loss, a need, which was indescribable.

       "It's  okay  David.   That's  enough  there  for
tonight.  I want you to roll over on your back so I can
finish  your front."  I couldn't have said anything  if
I'd  wanted to.  I obediently rolled over as my master,
I  mean nurse, had directed me, and felt a cool air  on
my  steel  hard prick that was proudly pointed  at  the
ceiling.

     I felt the same cool ointment on my stiffness as
     he addressed
it, "Well, thank you.  I'm pleased to meet you too."  I
heard a ridiculous, low sounding 'gaffaw' come from me.
It struck me funny that he would talk to my prick.

     I felt a little foolish when I realized my attempt
at a laugh and my moan of pleasure sounded exactly like
little Grant's had when I greeted his hardened penis a
short time before.  The only difference was that
Clayton didn't stop.  His hand was soon wrapped around
my steel rod and began to speed up with every stroke.
It took me a full minute or day or week to realize that
he wasn't going to quit his menstruations.  At first I
panicked because I felt a strange, wet warmth surround
the head of my prick.  Then I just had to let
everything go as I was enveloped in the throws of his
wonderful hands doing fantastic things that had me
gasping and whimpering, until bells and whistles and
fireworks were going off in the room, in my head and,
especially, my gushing cock.  I jerked and shot and
jumped and gushed for what seemed like an eternity.  I
knew there was no elevator that could bring me back
from that height.  I just trusted Clayton's experience
to help me return to consciousness.

     Soon I was aware of my own deep breathing and
someone gently massaging my spent package.

     "M-m-m," came a voice that I seemed to recognize
as my new nurse, "That was very tasty.  Thank you for
sharing."  I opened my eyes and saw him wipe something
shiny off of his chin with his finger and suck it into
his mouth.  My cock jumped at the sight as though it
knew what had happened.  "I don't usually go for
tadpoles but I could get used to having you around."

     I felt myself blush and immediately felt exposed
and a little cold.

     "Let's get you tucked in and let you rest.  You'll
soon have your own hands full with your prize
possession there."  After he helped me lie next to
Grant and pulled up the sheet, he leaned over me and
planted a gentle kiss on my lips.  His hand came up to
caress my cheek and smooth my hair.  I guess he wished
me a good night's sleep but I never heard the complete
sentence.  I was a goner, undoubtedly, with the same
pleasure smile on me that my little nymph next to me
had on his face.  I barely remember snuggling up to
Grant and, placing my arm over his waist and pulling
him closer, closest.  I slept.

                          ***

      I  had no idea of the time but the room was still
dark.  I unraveled myself from my munchkin and made  my
way   to  where  I  thought  the  bathroom  should  be.
Luckily, I became aware of something on the left, right
next to the bathroom door, that wasn't there before.  I
skirted  around  it  and made it to my  destination  in
time,  much  to  my  relief.  As I stood  there  naked,
emptying  my  bladder, I heard a  soft  thump  and  the
padding of munchkin feet. Then a clank.

     "Ow!'  I guess that part of him wasn't developed
enough to sense the intruder next to the door.  Soon a
naked ten year old was standing next to me, peeing
across my stream.

     "Ah-h-h," was the sound that said it all.  I
nodded in agreement, even though he didn't look up at
me.  His arm came around my waist and held on, never
looking up, just staring at our contributions to the
bowl in front of us.  Just that act of his was one of
the most precious feelings I have ever experienced.  I
think I may have even caught my breath to hold back a
tear.  We both did our shake at the same time and I
walked to the sink as he started back to bed.

     "Over here, young man.  Wash."

     "Unh."  He did a wide circle that returned him to
the room.  I led him by the shoulder to the sink,
straddled behind him and took his hands and washed them
for him.  I looked into the mirror and his reflection
showed me that I had a sleepwalker in front of me.  I
tried to be careful not to push him into the cold
porcelain but he jumped a couple of times.  Even the
light touch of him against my front was amazing.  I was
warmer than he, but we would put some pounds on him
with good food and that would change.  He'd soon be
pumping out the heat like I did.

     After drying, we padded back to bed, barely
missing a folded up cot by the bathroom door.  He
climbed in, as though unaware that I existed, and
plopped down in the middle of the twin bed.  I tried to
be gentle as I lifted him to the side and got in and
pulled up the bed covers.  I had barely given in to the
idea that it was okay that he didn't remember I was
sleeping with him, or he with me, for that matter; it
was my bed.  I almost rolled over when I felt him move
and shift until one leg was over one of mine, his arm
was across my stomach and his silky smooth hair was
nestled in my armpit.  Few things are better than that!
I drifted.

     I was in a room designed for a man.  I recognized
it as my father's study.  It was decorated in all the
right colors and motifs for a man's place of solitude,
with dark woods and rich colors.  There were book
shelves with volumes that matched and a big desk with a
leather chair on wheels.  But it never seemed like it
fit my dad. He was certainly never the ball scratchin',
beer poppin' he man that I equated more to Sam.  He
wasn't the eccentric business type that caused you to
shudder in his presence, when you knew he had just
cleared the deal of the century.  And he certainly
wasn't a Russ by any means.  He was kind of mousey,
very quiet and at mother's beck and call.  He was home
at 5:30 for dinner at six and went into his sanctuary
after eating to...well, I never had any idea what he
did in there.  In fact, the only time I was invited in
was for punishment or a lecture.  Believe me, I would
rather have the punishment.  His lectures went on and
on.  He would seem to drift off sometimes, catch
himself and then return to harp about anything that
came to his mind.  Then he would send me out without so
much as touching me or saying anything in the way of
encouragement or warmth.

     When I thought about it, he reminded me a lot of
Sam and his bitterness.  At least when he punished me
he would lay me over his lap.  Once, when I was
younger, he pulled my pants down and spanked me once,
then got all flustered and sent me to my room.  From
then on he always used his bare hand but I was always
in my britches or shorts.  It seemed to me that even
that contact made him uncomfortable.  Maybe there was
something about his upbringing that bothered him from a
time long past.

     So, there I was in this secret place.  It made me
uncomfortable because I was never allowed in there
unless he called me to him.  In fact, I only snuck in
there once, but that was another story.  I guess I was
afraid he'd see me spying on him and yell at me.   I
also sensed that I had never seen the room decorated
like this.  The furniture wasn't the same or was it.
Oh, it was new.  It was new and he was young, very
young.  It must have been right after they moved in.
It was so strange.  It was almost like looking in a
mirror.  He looked so much like me.  Where had I heard
that just....  Anyway, I wasn't very far into the room.
My father was sitting in his chair, turned slightly
away from his desk so that he could easily have seen me
standing there.  He was talking on the phone.

     "You are well aware that I have no intention of
returning his correspondence, mother.  Just throw them
away.  I don't know why he continues to plague us.  I
also think it's time for us to remove you from that
dust bowl and have you come here, to live, ah, near us.
I'm doing quite well for Jen's father and can certainly
afford a change for you."  He seemed nervous but then,
he often did about certain situations.  "Good.  It's
decided then.  I'll have Jen begin arrangements in the
morning.  That should end this once and for all."  He
listened for a few seconds and started shaking his head
and getting upset.  "No, no, no.  Impossible.  I will
not make any attempt to renew our friendship.  I
thought I made it clear to him that day."

     His voice began to shake and hesitate like it was
hard to say the words; almost like he didn't believe
them himself. "There was no friendship, certainly not
like he wanted.  Besides, that was a long time ago.
I've put those feelings behind me.  I have a wife now
and I have no time for, for frivolous folly.  He was
always after me to spend more time with him.  I had no
idea until..."  His head was much lower, hung down as
if it was too heavy to hold up any longer.  His voice
was so quiet I could barely hear his words.   "Good bye
mother.  Jen will call you tomorrow.  I, I have another
call."

     The phone hung in his hand like it was too heavy
to put back in the cradle.  After a few seconds his
head started to bob just a bit and I could hear him.  I
could just make out him sobbing softly.  Then the phone
started making that heinous noise when it's off the
hook too long and it startled him and me. He replaced
it on the phone's base and sat there staring at it.
Then he opened the drawer under where the phone sat and
moved his hand around inside until he brought out what
looked like a photograph.  I only saw its back but I'm
sure that's what it was. Then he heard his wife, my
mother, call him to dinner.  Her voice seemed so clear
and young, telling her David to come to supper.  He
replaced the photo in the drawer, stood up and started
toward me until he passed right through me and I gasped
in surprise!

                          ***

     "You okay, David?  You were dreamin' deep.  I
don't think it was a good one from your cryin' either."
I opened my eyes to see my little cherub staring into
my eyes again with a look that said he was worried
about me.

     "I'm okay Tiger.  Really.  I was dreaming
something pretty weird is all."  My hands went to his
waist and I brought him up to lay on top of me.  His
expression didn't change.  He put one arm onto the
pillow to prop himself up and he used the other to
smooth my hair.  He was taking care of me.  I couldn't
help but grin at him.

     "What are you grinnin' at you weirdo?  What's
goin' on in
there?" he demanded softly, poking gently at my
forehead.

     "Hm-m-m.  I'm grinning at my favorite munchkin
that is doing his darndest to take care of me like he
cares.  That's what I'm doin'."  I raised a hand and
ruffled up his hair and it fell into his eyes.  He
swished his head to sweep the hair back for a second.
But he was still serious.

     "I do care about you David.  You're my best
friend.  I want to know everything about you.  I want
to do everything with you.  But I mostly don't want you
to hurt anymore."  His other hand went down to the
pillow so he could raise himself directly over my face.
His look was one of deep consideration.  Like the most
important thing in the world was what would happen
next.

     I stared into his eyes.  For what seemed like a
long time I was held by their power.  I seemed to be
drawn into them until everything was dark, and then I
blinked.  He was still there but his face showed me
that he had calmed down a bit from his concerned state.
I knew this was an important time and I knew I needed
to do just the right thing but I was absolutely sure
that what was in my mind could shatter him.  There was
no way I could do it.  Then, I didn't have to.  He
leaned down and smacked me with his lips, right on
mine.  Not a passionate kiss by any means, but one
that, for him, was probably as foreign and scary as it
was for me to conjure up the courage that he had before
I could kiss him.  I'm sure it was one of the first he
had ever received until earlier today with his dad.

     "Wow, Grant.  That was very nice.  Thank you."  He
started to blush.

     "You mean it?  I, I had ta'.  I didn't have a
choice.  But I wanted to show you I cared; that I,
well, I...I don't know how to say it."  He slumped down
on me and brought his arms up on my chest and laid his
head down until his chin was touching mine.  He shifted
his legs so they were straddling my waist.  There was
just the hint that he might start crying from his
embarrassment.  I couldn't let that happen.

     "Grant," I tried to say it as softly as I could
but with the deepest conviction, "The best way to say
something that you can't is to just blurt it out.  If
it's from your heart you don't need to worry about it
being the right thing.  It will be.  And the best one
to blurt it out to is your best friend, cause he cares
for you more than any three zillion people could.  You
could always tell him, I mean, me, anything and never
worry about how it comes out.  I couldn't imagine you
saying the wrong thing, ever."

     "Well then, I wanted to show you that I loved ya."

     And I might have stared into his eyes a bit too
long before I said, "Oh."  So much for waxing poetic at
just the right time.  He stared back in disbelief for a
split second.

     "See?  I screwed up!" he cried as he tried to
reach back and cover himself with the sheet.  He
flailed around enough to push my arms out of the way
and grabbed the sheet on either side of us, but when he
threw it over his head, it went over my head too so
that we were still looking at each other.

     "Oh brother!  I can't do anything right."  He
wasn't crying, but he was on the verge and I could feel
his body on mine start to quiver.

     "Grant, I'm so sorry.  You have no idea what those
words mean to me.  No one has ever said that to me
before, not no one."  My eyes pleaded with his to
believe me.

     "Sure.  You 'spect me to believe that crap?"  I
gave that kind of nod that says I'm stickin' to my
story cause that's how it is.

     "You mean no one?"  I nodded.  "Ever?"  I did the
     nod thing
again.  "Why?"

     "Grant.  How many times has someone said it to
you?"  Woe!  He wasn't expecting that one!  He raised
his head and then slumped until his head lay sideways
on my chest.  The quivering that had stopped during our
conversation was building up more than ever.  I could
just hear him.

      "Lots.  My mommy always said it to me.  She  said
it all the
time until she died and left us."

     Shit!  Good going Dr. David.  Open mouth-insert
foot.  For my next trick....

      "Grant,  I  didn't mean to...I didn't know  about
your mommy,
really.  I..."

     "It's okay.  I know you didn't know.  I miss her
all the time. I just hadn't thought about her in the
last few days, hm-m, since..."  And he propped himself
up and his face changed from his introspective glare to
one of my all time favorite DeWitt smiles that would
have lit up the room if we weren't covered by the
sheet. I had to think that the walls were so white that
the light from outside must have been enough so that we
could see each other so well; like when the snow is so
white it looks like daylight in the middle of the
night.  Hah!  Maybe I should major in science.

     But before I could leave for my new major his arms
went around me and hugged the bejesus out of my poor
neck.  Then he pulled his head back for a second before
his mouth opened and attacked me everywhere, all over
my face.  Somehow, over my laughing and his smooching,
he kept saying, 'I love you!  I love you!  I love you!'
over and over again.  Soon, I was tickling him and we
were both laughing until we hurt.  I will never get
enough of that attention from my little guy, ever.

     As things started to calm down and there began to
be more deep breathing than laughing, I threw back the
sheet to give us air and got the shock of my young
life!

      Clayton  was  standing next to the bed  with  his
hands on his
hips and a scowl on his face.

     "So!" He said as sternly as he could and still
fight back the need to give in and laugh with us.  "I
let you bunk together and this is the thanks I get?
You wake up the whole hospital?"

     The realization of all that just happened must
have come clear to Grant just then because he let out a
surprised gulp and buried his head in my arm pit.  What
he probably wasn't aware of, if that wasn't enough
embarrassment, was that his behind was bared to
Clayton.  Well, at least he wasn't aware of it until
Clayton patted his cheeks and bent down to whisper.

      "I'm  just playing with you, little one.   You're
not in any
trouble."

     Of course, Grant's head snapped up and looked at
me like cold realization was poured down his naked
crack.  He turned the brightest shade of red possible.
It's amazing how blood can be called upon and travel so
fast in one so young to service the needs of the truly
embarrassed.

      "Uh,  Clayton.   Could you please  cover  us  up?
Sorry  we  got  your attention but we  need  to  finish
something; and I do mean a conversation," I emphasized.
After  the sheet was replaced over us, that is,  up  to
Grant's  neck, I flicked my fingers at Clayton to  move
on and he mouthed an 'O' and left like he was tiptoeing
over haystacks or something.

     Grant hadn't moved but I thought I felt the
quivers returning. Then I heard a snicker and that
turned into a giggle.

     I ran my hands from his shoulders down to his rump
and asked him, "What are you giggling about, you funny
little guy?"

      "He patted my popo and it was naked!"  Blush  and
smile!

     "But I've done that to you!"

     "Yeah, but I love you."  That smile again.  If I
could bottle it...  Instead I just hugged him to me
until he collapsed on me. After a while I felt his
hands rubbing my sides.  It felt heavenly, so I began
light circles all over his back, concentrating on his
hind end, of course.
     "Hm-m-m.  Can we just always stay here like this?
     Forever?"

     "Grant?"

     "Hm-m-m?"

     "You said you loved me," I said as I gave him a
soft squeeze.
And my hands returned to their task as did his on me.

     "That's cause I do.  Hm-m-m"

     "Yeah.  I could hear that all day."  His hands
stopped their caresses and his head lifted toward me.

     "How come no one ever told you before, David.?
Not even your mommy?"

     "Oh, Grant.  I'm sure my parents loved me," I
lied, as much to myself as to him.  "I just think they
were too busy, I mean too quiet to ever say it.  They
were really old when I was born.  I think my dad was
more like your dad until today."

     "Oh.  Wow, David.  What'd you do to my dad?  Spank
him until he changed into a real daddy?  How'd you do
that for me?"

     I hadn't thought of it quite like that until he
gave his take on this afternoon.

     "We just talked about what he went through a long
time ago and how hurt he was and how he didn't really
know why.  He thought your grampa did something wrong
but he found out that all your grampa did was what you
are doing."

     "Huh?  What's that?  What am I doin' like grampa?"
He hiked up a little on me to look up.  I was beginning
to realize that this kind of conversation would not
last this long when Grant was too much older and
heavier.  Whew!

     "He just loved someone so much it hurt, and that
hurt showed to your dad and your gramma too.  When they
couldn't figure out what was going on with your grampa
they got confused and blamed him for something that he
didn't do."

     "What?  What didn't he do?"

     "How can I tell you that if he didn't do it?"

     "Yeah but, they thought..."

     "Grant.  It was a big misunderstanding and your
daddy and grampa are working it out so they can put it
all behind them. That's all there is to it.  The best
part is what happens tomorrow."

     "Huh?  Really?  What happens tomorrow?  Huh?"  I
started on his backside again and, after a little
while, he relaxed again and he renewed his wonderful
caresses on me.

     In almost a whisper, in a sleepy, little boy voice
he  said, "What about tomorrow David?  What will it  be
like tomorrow?"

      "Hm-m-m.  It will be more of what happened  today
Grant.   Just as wonderful as today has been."  And  we
both  were left to drift to that place where  we  could
see what tomorrow would be like.

NTLFG - The End of Chapter Six
To be continued

Comments on the story are appreciated.  Thank you. I'm
Matthew Templar at matemp1148@yahoo.com