Wishing on a Blue Star

by Kris Jacen

  He grabbed me tight. “What about Tai?”

  “It’s not your place to worry about Tai; you have your own life to live.”

  “But he––”

  “I’m putting Dad in charge of watching over him.”

  “Dad?” He was shocked.

  “Yes, Dad,” I sighed. “Dad will make sure he’s okay, and because Dad is Dad, Tai won’t be able to say no when the old man asks him to come visit. He can say no to all the rest of you, but not him. It’s engrained too deep.”

  He nodded as he eased out of my arms. “All that good Japanese upbringing, huh?”

  “That’s right,” I said turning for home.

  Frank rushed around in front of me, and I saw, for the millionth time, a younger, more handsome, version of myself. Same blue eyes, same brown hair, but where my features were broad and plain, his were fine and chiseled. My parents’ genes had been mixed up great in him.

  “You really dug me out of a shithole this time, Mark.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate it—you believing that I’ll be okay.”

  I tousled his sweat-dampened hair. “Of course you’ll be okay. You’re gonna be great.”

  He pulled in air and was suddenly there, back in my arms, having lunged at me.

  I knew I would have to get used to it.

  * * * *

  I was sitting in the living room looking around at the faces of my family. My father had his jaw clenched tight, and he was squinting so he wouldn’t cry. My mother was weeping and holding Tai’s hand tight. Trish was leaning into Ethan’s arms, and Deb was wrapped around Alex. I rolled my eyes.

  “Don’t you dare do that!” My mother snapped at me. “It’s not fair, Mark. We get to be sad, goddamnit. It’s our fuckin’ right!”

  The room was still and silent, and I knew why. My mother swearing was an event that happened maybe once a decade. It just wasn’t her way.

  Tai shot me a look, and I deflated. “Sorry.”

  “How long have you had it?”

  “Three years,” I told her, sinking down into the chair.

  “And when did Tai know?”

  “Last year,” I told her.

  She turned to look at him. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry he made you keep it from us. To have to carry the burden alone must have been exhausting.”

  My mother was amazing. She didn’t attack him for not telling her; she went right to what it meant for him instead. When he leaned sideways into her arms, I saw how pleased she was. The woman had wanted to mother him since the moment they met, and it looked like now she was finally going to get her chance, sixteen years later.

  It took hours to get it all out, the diagnosis and the chemo and the remission that had not lasted and the more chemo I now needed. I had to explain about the first doctor, and the second, and the godsend I had finally found who insisted on meeting Tai immediately, no matter what kind of hurt locker that put me in.

  There was the grief to explain, and anger, and how I had almost pushed Tai away before I decided on being selfish and pulled him back to me with a ravenous hunger. I had to have him; he was necessary. I had not wanted him to suffer, but it turned out that me trying to put distance between us had nearly carved out his heart.

  I told my family everything, explained what had happened and what would, and about the trip I was taking to Paris with the man I loved. We would be back for the holidays, and we had rented a cabin in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I wanted a white Christmas, but I wanted it away from any of our homes. I would not have any last memories of me cluttering up the places where they lived. I especially didn’t want that for Tai, even though for him, really, there was no getting around it.

  There was crying and hugging, and my father just holding my hand nearly did me in. When I finally got up and stumbled into the bedroom, I fell face-first down on the bed.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  I rolled my head to the side to look at Tai’s knees, as he had moved over beside the nightstand. “What are we talking about?”

  “The first time I told you I loved you.” He took a breath, and I rolled over on my back so I could see his face. I saw immediately how red-rimmed those beautiful eyes of his were. “I remember.”

  I could not control my grin. “Yeah?”

  He nodded, moving closer to the bed until he touched it. “I came back early from a trip, and since I already had keys to your place, I went there first and found you asleep on the couch.”

  “I can’t sleep in bed when you’re not home.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, his voice deep, husky. “And I was standing there, looking down at you, all rumpled with your glasses on your forehead and drooling––”

  “Really? Drooling?”

  He grunted. “But the point was, you were there, you were always going to be there, and the fact that even after a minute of us being together, you couldn’t even bear to be in your own bed without me…I just knew.”

  “You knew because I had told you I loved you a million times by then.”

  “And that’s your way; when you feel it, you say it, and you shout it from the rooftops, but for me––you know that isn’t me.”

  “Yes, I know,” I teased him, reaching out to take hold of his hand.

  “But I was there, and you opened your eyes and looked at me...” He trailed off and then slowly, gently, climbed onto the bed and lay down on top of me, pinning me under him.

  “You love me,” I whispered into his hair, my hands siding down his back, fisting the worn grey T-shirt in my hand so I could yank it up and touch his skin.

  “I want you inside me.”

  But I was a smart man and knew that how he said it was only half of how he meant it. He was hiding again, but it was too late for that. “I’ll always be inside you, Tai; you never have to worry.”

  He exhaled sharply, and I was suddenly clutched very tight.

  “My family, my friends—when it’s time, think about it, Tai, it’ll be so nice. They’ll all come together, and that’ll be good.”

  “‘Cause you’re the glue, Mark. Everyone loves you.”

  It was nice of him to say, but there were more important things for us to talk about. “Do you know what the big moment in my life is?”

  He shook his head.

  “When I woke up from my nap and there you were, standing over me, and you said, ‘Oh.’“

  He pinched my side, and I laughed because he felt so good—his weight, the heat from his body, and the feel of his sleek skin. I wanted to lie beneath him for the rest of the time I had left.

  “And I looked at you,” I couldn’t stop laughing. “And you said ‘Holy shit, Mark, I think I love you.’”

  “Fucker,” he growled, shifting over me so his groin slid over mine.

  I arched up into him, and he moaned.

  “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Mark Gabriel.”

  “And it’s been the joy of my life to be loved so hard and so completely,” I said, trying to concentrate as he started to rub his hardening cock over mine, back and forth. I grabbed a handful of his hair to still him, and he froze there, staring down into my eyes. “We’re not gonna do this bullshit where I make you swear to live without me and all that crap. You know what you need, but whatever happens, wherever you end up, just know that you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up every morning and the last thing I think of before I go to bed. I love you, period.”

  He collapsed on top of me, arms and legs wrapped so tight, lips open on my collarbone, sucking and licking.

  “Sorry,” I chuckled, “way to kill a mood, huh?”

  “Mark,” he gasped, lifting up, legs still tangled with mine as he rose up on his elbow to look down at my face. “I love you back.”

  “I know,” I told him, with all the conviction I felt. “I do.”

  “I’m so scared. I don’t think I’ll still be me without you.”

  “Yes, you will,” I promised h
im.

  “Do I belong to you?”

  “Yes,” I said gruffly, his words making me breathless.

  “Show me.”

  And while I still could, I would.

  I closed my eyes when his lips sealed over mine. His mouth devoured me, and his hands were rough as he tugged off my clothes, as if he was starving, ravenous, and I was everything he needed. He wanted me there, body and soul, to show him my love and make him feel it.

  “Get on your knees.”

  That I could make demands caused instant trembling, and I knew that even though he wanted to be submissive to me, I had to be strong enough to demand it, to force him if I needed to. There was the promise of power in my tone, and his heave of breath told me that my voice alone, ordering and coaxing, could bring him to climax.

  “Please,” he begged me, “put your hands everywhere. Touch me.”

  When I bent over him, bit down into his shoulder, he shuddered under me.

  “I can’t get close enough to you. I feel like I’m going to float away.”

  But as the hours rolled by and I rode out the throbbing, pounding need with him, I anchored him to me and to the life I still had, and the one we still shared.

  When he was spent and panting in my arms, fighting sleep, his eyes fluttering to stay open, I began stroking his hair.

  “It’s okay, baby, go to sleep.”

  “I don’t want to miss anything.”

  “You won’t, I promise. We’ve got plans to make, and my family to take care of. It’s gonna be a busy week. You need to go to sleep.”

  “You always worry about everybody else instead of yourself.”

  “I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. You take care of the people you love. You just do. It works for me. I think I’ve done okay,” I said, lifting my bicep so he rolled sideways into my waiting arms.

  “You’ve done great,” he whispered, wrapping around me as I tucked the blankets up around him.

  As I notched his head under my chin, I had to smile. I certainly had.

  Stupid Human Sex Tricks

  Another post from Patric to Ethan Day’s Yahoo Group – Part II

  First off, thank you all for your participation. I wish to hell I had the steam to thank you individually, or even be sure I got all the names without forgetting anyone, but my head is deluged with chemicals, which is a piss poor excuse, but a fact nevertheless. :)

  I promise I will answer when I can with what I can, but for now a general shout of gratitude will have to serve.

  For those who asked, and because I am right pleased with them, here are my copies of the Prostate and Sounding Stories. Funny how they seem to have taken on such mythic proportions. :)

  ________________________________________________________

  Tap, tap, tap...

  “Ladies... If I may draw your attention to the screen behind me. As most of you have surmised, this is a penis.”

  The speaker looks at his assembled audience and sees a few ladies who seem just a bit green around the edges. “If you arent sure why you are here, or heaven forbid, havent seen one of these things, may I suggest you re-enroll for basic anatomy?” He waits patiently for the small flurry of giggles to subside, followed by three of his would-be students all but running for the exit to make their escape.

  “Now, I assume I have everyone elses attention? My name is Michael. I’ve been an RN for the last six years, and this class is an adjunct to Sexual Behaviors 201. Also known as ‘Stupid Human Sex Tricks’.” Michael holds up a hand to forestall the already burgeoning hue and cry. “No. Dont bother. I am neither condemning nor condoning the practice we’ll discuss today. I simply repeat what some students say.” He taps his keyboard and the image, several times life size, changes to show the same member, now fully erect, and supported by it’s presumed owner.

  “Ladies, meet Terry,” he says, and waits for the inevitable sighs to subside.

  “Oh mah gawd, he’s gorgeous!”

  Laughter greets this sally, and Michael grins. “Yes he is. Arent you baby?”

  The man, dark haired and dashing, steps out from behind a partition wearing a robe, and a great big smile. “Ladies. meet my husband.”

  Both men smile and wait for the groans to subside.

  “Ah don’ care! He’s still gorgeous!” The southern accented speaker, whose name probably isnt Sally, says fervently.

  “Yes, well,” Michael says, and steps from the podium to address a table. The image behind the podium switches to view the contents of the table. “Lets get started, shall we? Today’s subject is sounding.”

  Terry moves to stand in front of the table.

  “Sounding was originally a medical practice used to aid chronic sufferers of syphills and other STDs, primarily as a means to enlarge or in some cases debride scar tissue within the urethra. As you can see, there were a variety of instruments used to perform the task.”

  A scatter of giggles catches Michael’s attention, and he looks up to see Terry ‘hand waving’ like a greek Vanna white at the various instruments on display. He scowls and Terry subsides, his eyes rolling skyward.

  “We wont concern ourselves with the various names, but as you can see, the shapes suggest probable usage.” Michael selects a thin rod with a small tapered bulb on the end and holds it up to the camera. “A rosebud for short term enlargement as the instrument passes through the urethra.” He sets it aside and picks up a long metal rod curved at one end. “Van Buren,” he says. “This one is designed to reach all the way to to the bladder.”

  “Wait, Michael. Why would any guy want to do that in the first place?” A woman wearing a tag which proclaims her to be Alyce asks.

  Michael smiles. “First off, dont be mistaken that these things are only used on guys.” He picks up a shorter rod, slightly bent, and holds it up. “A Hegar, designed for uterine applications. As to why, well, why do you masturbate?”

  Another woman, Jo by name, calls out. “Because it feels good, baby, and most guys are lousy at making me scream!”

  Michael smiles. “There you go. It feels good. Exploring some of those ways we go about making ourselves feel good is why this class exists.” He addressed the audience in general. “How many of you know what a catheter is?”

  Most of the audience raises their hands.

  “Okay, how many of you have been catheterized?”

  Many hands fall back into laps.

  “Who werent giving birth...”

  Only three hands remain. Michael points to a young man with his hand raised. “Why?”

  The young man grins. “I like it.”

  Michael laughs. “Never mind,” he says. “You’ll be fine.” To the two women who still have their hands raised, he says, “What you are about to see will be something like a male version of what you experienced. I promise, it wont feel as uncomfortable as it may look.”

  The two women nod and Michael turns to Terry. “Ready?”

  Terry grins and drops his robe. “Anytime you are, my lovely boy,” he says coyly.

  Michael exaggerates his wince for the benefit of his audience, who laughs as expected. He dons a pair of rubber gloves, and picks up a syringe package. He peels the sterile paper back and extracts the syringe. “No, no needles for this stuff,” he says, knowing more than one member of his audience is already cringing.

  Michael pops open a fresh tube of KY and deftly sucks several CCs into the syringe. “Fresh tube of water based lube, not the jelly kind,” he says and approaches Terry who is already holding his penis pointing upward, foreskin retracted. Michael swabs the head of Terry’s dick, and a ways down the shaft, with a cotton ball dipped in betadine solution, then inserts the tip of the syringe into Terry’s slit. He depresses the plunger and every eye in the audience rivets on the oversized view screen, abhorred and fascinated as they can see the lubricant fill the urethra at the underside of Terry’s penis.

  Michael smooths the liquid further down toward the base of Terry’s dick and sets the syringe a
side in favor of an unopened alcohol swipe. He chooses one of the Hagar sounds and deftly sterilizes it.

  “We want to make sure the alcohol evaporates completely before we play.”

  “Is it play? Doesnt it hurt?”

  Michael scans his audience as he waves the sound, air drying it. “I suppose you should ask Terry that.”

  “Anything we do to a living body has the potential for pain,” Terry says. “Just as there is potential for pleasure. The entire body is a sensory organ, after all, and frankly, my dick is about as sensory as it gets. Lots of potential for pleasure there.”

  Women laugh, and the young man who likes catheters actually hoots.

  Michael catches Terry’s attention and sets the end of the sound to the tip of Terry’s dick, which is already swelling with anticipation. The camera faithfully captures the moment the sound enters the slit, and Michael waits for the gasps as the device slides easily inside. About half way in, he lets go and stands back, fascinated as ever by how the heavy, highly polished metal slips in, caught by gravity until the upright bend of Terry’s penis halts its progress.

  “Holy shit! Where did it go?”

  Another man’s voice, and Michael doesnt need to see to know it’s not Cath-Boy.

  “The sound stops at the point where the urethra makes too sharp a bend for further travel, of course. Terry?”

  Terry points his erection downward, and in a moment the sound begins to slide out of his dick. He tips it up again, and the metal rod snuggles back into its resting position.

  “Remember, the Hager was designed for the much shorter uterine travel. Longer sounds like the Van Buren take the greater length into account. Because of the turns, and the prostate which we’ve discussed in an earlier class, there is a fair bit of manipulation involved in placing one. Van Buren sounds were designed to lock into place within the bladder* and remain for a time, allowing the stretched urethra time to adjust, and hopefully remain open.”

  Terry lets the sound slip from his dick, and anyone watching can clearly see the activity holds some kind of pleasure, judging by the look on his face. Michael sterilizes one of the long, curved rods and lubricates it. The audience watches, fascinated as more and more of the metal disappears into the man’s body. Michael lifts and lowers Terry’s partially flaccid dick, working the curved end through the delicate channel until Terry touches his hand.