Chapter Seven: Confession
The sun was bright and warm, and the thirty or so men who surrounded me were all naked. Most of them were sunning themselves on the rocks, but a few were splashing around in the shining blue water of the cove. There was an easy familiarity amongst them and I knew myself to be included in this camaraderie. I looked down and found I was also naked, but I didn't recognize my own body. It was lean, almost muscular, and except for a modest pubic bush, almost hairless. I roused myself to look at my surroundings and saw that a large battleship was anchored just outside of the cove. I also noticed that the various piles of clothes that were lying around all looked the same. They looked like uniforms of some sort.
Most of the guys were half asleep or watching the few men who were swimming. As no one was paying any attention to me, I allowed my hand to find its way to my rapidly stiffening dick. I don't think I had ever been in the company of so many naked men at once before. It was a bit overwhelming and my body was responding with predictable excitement. As I stroked, one of the guys near me stirred and turned to look in my direction. I froze, but he just smiled. “Nice day for it,” he muttered softly. “But you better be quick, the Sarge will be here to collect us any time now.” Despite his warning, he moved his hand to his crotch and began stroking as well. I couldn't help but wish a few others would follow our lead, and as if on command a number of nearby guys rolled over and began jerking without even opening their eyes.
They were all young and fit, and the sight of all those dicks being worked together made me even harder. I gladly joined into the passion of the moment and could feel their excitement growing around me. I sank deeper into my own pleasure and excitement, drawing closer and closer to the moment of release, when suddenly a large muscular man in uniform appeared behind us and broke the spell. “Alright ladies, Put 'em away! Time to get back to work.” He unceremoniously picked up one of the uniforms lying next to the nearest guy and flung it on top of him. “Get dressed and be quick about it!” He bellowed various insults at the men as he moved among them, prodding them with his booted foot if they weren't moving fast enough for him. I had managed to pull my pants on and button the front of them and was struggling to find my second sock when I felt his boot against my ass and heard him laughing as I fell.
I woke with a start. The apartment was quiet and I had a monster boner. I love morning wood, but this was so hard it was almost painful. The dream had been incredibly erotic and, even after the monster load I had unleashed last night, I had no problem finishing what I had begun in my sleep. Still, It was strange. The dream resembled nothing in my personal history. I had never been in the military, and although I enjoyed sailor fantasies in porn, They had never been anything special. Besides, it was too detailed and specific, more like a memory than a fantasy. I had a sense of each of the men I had seen, who they were, what they were like in everyday life, what their voices sounded like, even how they smelled. A strange dream indeed, but a pleasant way to start the first day of my leave.
“You've been a very naughty boy!” Ben said as a wicked smile crept across his face.
He hadn't been particularly energetic when I first walked in, but when I said the words “Circle jerk” he had become decidedly more animated.
“Anyone I know?”
“Not really,” I demurred, “Just Helmut.”
“Well of course he was there. I would have expected nothing less.” He chucked to himself, and I caught a glimpse of the man I had fallen in love with.
“So you're not angry?” I had been hesitant to Tell him about the previous evening's activities, even though he had given me permission to play the field while he was out of commission. But I though it better to be honest and face the possible consequences than to risk the relationship by keeping secrets.
“What's to be angry about?” he asked, seemingly puzzled by the idea. “It's not like you had sex with anyone, you were just jerking off. Besides, I said you could, and clearly you needed some sort of action. Now, tell me everything. I want details!”
As I recounted what I could remember he slipped a hand under the covers in a not so subtle way and began to work his cock. “All at once? Really!? Fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, Helmut seems to think I had something to do with it, like I was in control or something, and to be honest, it was weird. I mean, I've jerked off in groups a couple of times before, but last night was different somehow, almost like they were all part of me.” I thought for a moment then added, “But I definitely wasn't in control.”
“Still.” Ben added, “It's hot as hell. But even with that, I can't manage to get a response.” He lowered the blanket and pulled up his johnny to show me the limp dick in his hand. “Nothing!”
Just then his case manager walked in, stopping short in the doorway to take in the scene. Without missing a beat he breezed past us and in the sassiest voice possible said, “Child, put that thing away. If he ain't playing with it, I certainly won't.”
“But Cecily, sweety, it needs help. Can't you do something?” He shot me a playful grin and winked as he covered himself up.
“We all need help sometime, but that kind of help ain't in my job description.” He flashed the briefest of smiles at me before adopting a more professional demeanor and adding, “Besides, I come bearing good news. Your brace should be ready by this afternoon, which means you may be able to get out of here first thing tomorrow.”
Ben brightened visibly. “Thank the great googly moogly!” he cheered, doing a sort of dance in his bed.
“The great what?” Cecil said with a grin.
“It's something my grandfather used to say when I was a kid.” Then turning to me he enthused, “It'll be so good to get home again. I can't wait to see everyone and...”
“Don't jump the gun yet,” Cecil interrupted in a more serious tone. “You'll be heading to rehab first, and who knows how long that will take.”
Ben groaned and deflated a little. “Great,” he sighed unenthusiastically, “Where are they going to send me? Timbuktu?”
“Actually, you'll be closer to home than you are now. You're going to Northern Tides, the rehab center just off Saltwater Road. They have a state of the art facility and the staff is wonderful. You'll love it there, I promise.”
Cecil sat on the edge of the bed as he said this, and squeezed Ben's hand to offer some support at his disappointment. “Besides, I know the therapist who will be working with you, she's very good at what she does and has a great sense of humor. I think you two will hit it off right away.
Ben considered this and I saw him rally himself before he said, “Sounds delightful. Just tell me there are lots of cute male nurses to flirt with and we'll be all set.”
Cecil chuckled. “There are plenty of male nurses, although I can't say if you'll think they are cute or not.” He leaned in with an air of mock confidentiality and added in a loud whisper, “But Most of them are gay, so the flirting shouldn't be a problem.” He winked at Ben, then rising, turned to me and said, “Joey, we do have a few logistics to go over. No point in boring Ben with all those details. Besides, he looks tired.” He was right. I guess in my own anxiety to tell him about the circle jerk I hadn't noticed that he was beginning to fade. “Why don't you take a nap?” he instructed Ben in a tone that made it clear this was not a request. Then turning to me, he added in a similar tone, “And why don't you join me for a coffee in the cafeteria?”
The lunch rush hadn't started yet and we were able to find a private spot near a window that overlooked part of the parking lot with the tiniest sliver of ocean visible in the distance. “So, what do we need to go over?” I asked, expecting to be overwhelmed with paperwork or talk of outrageous financial obligations.
My apprehension grew when Cecil hesitated for a moment, staring into his coffee trying to find a good way to approach the subject on his mind. “Tell me about your living situation,” he asked simply.
I was puzzled. “Well, we live at the Hathaway, a kind of shelter for lost LGBTQ youth.”
“How many kids do you have there right now?”
“Twelve in the house and one more Living with Helmut,” I answered absently.
“That seems like a lot,” Cecil said thoughtfully. “Do you have help with them?”
“Of course,” I smiled. “We both have jobs. There's no way we could handle them all. The Hathaway has a staff of regular social workers and chaperons, two of whom are always present. Plus Helmut, who is technically the facilities manager, but also helps oversee everyone.”
“And what role do you and Ben play there?” He stared at me intently, as if a lot hung on how I answered his question.
“Officially we are just the landlords. We own the property and are active on the board.”
“But there's more to it than that, isn't there?”
My heart softened as I thought of the kids. “There is.” I hesitated before adding, “We function as sort of surrogate parents for them. Some of the kids are closer to us than others, but we consider them all to be out family. Helmut even adopted one of them a couple of years ago.”
“I see. And what about your housing in this facility? Describe it to me.”
“The kids have rooms on the lowest floor, along with a kitchen and community room. The second floor is mostly offices, with a restored ballroom that we sometimes rent out. And we live on the third floor in a private apartment.”
“Is there an elevator?
“No, but the stairs are wide and shallow and we've never needed...”
“If there were an elevator they might be willing to release him from residential rehab a bit quicker and switch him over to outpatient visits, but without one, well...”
“Maybe we could juggle the kids around and take one of the rooms on the first floor. The kitchen door has no steps.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded, “But I also have another concern. The support of family is important in the healing process, and I'm glad to hear you have created such a safe place for the kids you care for. At the same time, I wonder if it might be a bit overwhelming for Ben. Even with the help of social workers, that's a lot of kids, and he's going to need to focus on his own recovery, both physical and emotional. It might be best for him if he took the love of his family in smaller doses. Besides, how will the kids respond to becoming caregivers to one of their parents?”
I considered this. I knew that some of the kids would benefit from the chance to take care of someone other than themselves. I also realized that some of our kids were still suffering from neglect and abandonment, and did not have the inner resources yet to care for another. They still had their own healing to do. “What should I do? I asked, lost for a solution.
“I can't tell you that,” he answered. All I can tell you is that it would be in Ben's best interest to move to outpatient therapy as soon as possible. I imagine he will begin to improve any day now, and getting him to something like a home would be the best way to help him heal emotionally.” We sat in silence for a moment searching for possibilities. “Is there someplace you could move on a temporary basis? An apartment or with a friend?”
“There's always the boarding house,” I mused. “I'm sure Phil would let us use the room that Helmut vacated when he moved onto our property. It's not too crowded, and Miss M would dote on him.” I smiled at the thought, but then remembered, “But there is no way to get in without climbing the front steps. Six or seven at least.”
“Well, you think about it. I just wanted to place the idea in front of you in case there was a way to make things move faster.” With that he swallowed the last sip of his coffee and left me to ponder.
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