The Bug

From your Author:

I ended my note in the last chapter with the boys and I going to an Island in the North. I stood behind him feeling the energy around us.

“Oooh… Oooh… Momma, I gave my last tears to you; you won’t see them again.”

Pat recommended the boys write letters to their parents, a way to unload; what life had been like since Thanksgiving. I try to encourage them to read the ones they’ve gotten in return that are becoming fewer.

“You turned light to dark, too dark to see. You had me knockin on heaven’s door, mommy. Knock, knock, knockin, on your gods’ door.”

I think I told Derion, but I will tell you all. My, Little Robby, sees colors around people, doesn’t see a boy or girl, he trusts what he sees. My son told her about the colors thing I think to get her off his back and she attempted a homegrown exorcism. My grandson was in the middle of a circle; I can’t even imagine. His mother was leading the chanting; people rocking back and forth is how Robby described it to me. It scared him, to… fuckin, death.

“Does it make you happy I was knockin on heaven’s door for you? Would that make you happy if your god let me in?”

I was there four hours later with the Sherriff and took my Grandsons from that place.

“Why did you try to pray my good away? You have a dark cloud around you, Mom. I can’t look at it anymore. I can’t let your dark cloud come down on me or I’ll be knockin on that door again. I won’t knock on that door again; you damn near had me in the ground.”

The younger of the two came up next to me reaching for my hand. “He’s sad, Grampy.”

“He’s Mad, Lil Dude. I’m so…sorry.” I said looking down on him with tears sliding from my cheeks.

“Has he told you how much he loves you?” I asked.

“He knows he doesn’t need to, I feel it, Grampy.”

“Has he told you about your colors, D?”

“He has. I don’t know if I’m happy or sad I don’t see them. What’s it like, Grampy?”

I thought about what he asked. What’s it like? I had only seen them in one person. “Think about every rainbow you’ve ever seen and combine them. Think about how light reflects off water, the sound of waves, water over falls. Think about the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. Think about that when he smiles at you.”

“He sees other stuff, Grampy.”

“I Know.”

I could have kept them with me after what happened on Thanksgiving; I have no excuses for not.

What terrified Robby the most was his Dad would OD again and they’d be left with just his, bat shit, crazy, mom. Before my youngest son could stop him in the hall that day, he saw fading colors from his dad as I did CPR on my eldest son who’d OD’d on Fentanyl. My life is no different than yours.

“I hate you, Dad. I hate you had me knockin on heaven’s door for her. You should have stopped it. Mom would be happier if I was in the ground, Dad. You both had me ready for the next door. Knock, knock, knockin on heaven’s door. I’m not, knockin on heaven’s door anymore, Dad. Not knockin on heaven’s door for you, ever again.”

Now I had papers drawn up in February, I thought it’d be a fight even considering the checks I’d included. The checks were cashed days later; ten grand, each; but the single paper never signed or returned. They should have read it. God, I love, Parker. Cashing the checks was their signatures. They sold their boys to me for a fraction of what I’d have paid.

I will be sixty on the twentieth of June and find myself a Father again. I haven’t told the boys yet.

I watched my Grandson as I was thinking about his dad at that age. This could all be my fault. The other RJC had died, my other Robby. It was a hard time for me and harder for my two sons. The death of my soul mate, the loss that can’t be quantified, they suffered in a way that until now was never really understood. I still suffer; Robby understands.

So in the face of all, we try to overcome; find a reason to smile. It could be worse. Yea, that doesn’t help one fuckin bit. I am one who doesn’t need the ‘fuckin check’ It will go to a good place. I can’t, and won’t, apologize for my good fortune, I’ve been lucky. It sounds so… strange. Have I really been lucky???

Here, I will set the stage. I love my Renegades. But know brothers, I get so… much hate mail. I think other authors get the same but don’t share it with you. I hold nothing back because we all need to do, what we do. I wonder at times; is it worth it? I write mostly for myself, it fills time when night comes, gives me focus, and when I can’t find any; the loneliness comes. RJC.

Back to the guys

“When the time cums; I don’t think you’ll be able to call it, rape.” And I walked back over kneeling between his legs.

“And you thought I looked funny,” I told him with a smile to his big eyes running the cloth under his chin. I gave Brice the rag I’d wrung out saying, “You dry.”

I ran over his chest then dropped the rag and went at his nipples with both hands. “How you like it? How’s it feel?” And his dick jumped.

I Laughed grabbing the cloth again washing his dick then down to the balls and a little further. I even ran it down his legs as B dried his chest.

I was only inches from it, never being this close to a dick before. I knew what we tasted like all mixed together but also knew there was more of him hiding. I ran my hand under his balls, trailed a tight grip up his mile-long shaft, then licked it off. His head snapped back from the wall not knowing if I had done what he thought or if it was my fingers. Brice saw and smiled at me.

I felt his legs and calves, knees and thighs, Brice worked the upper half. We were getting to know our best friend and he thought we were going to hurt him. Now Brice was next to me watching my lips ride up and down the side of his shaft. I guess I was in the zone. I opened my eyes to see his looking in mine as our lips and tongues ran up opposite sides of his long dick and when we got to the top our lips met for a second before we broke away.

I mean, we both should have known; when two people are eating the same piece of spaghetti we know what happens. Maybe we did know. I put my hand around his thick neck pulling again, we kissed; like really kissed only broken as that dick broke us apart to go down that long shaft again.

Now it wasn’t my first kiss, Mandy and I kissed but not as many times as she blew me. And kissing Brice was way… better. I mean Mandy blew me before she ever kissed me, it seemed weird but I was getting my dick sucked; who am I to complain?

“That was so… fuckin hot, guys.” Chance announced looking at us slobbering on his cock.

That kind of broke us from the spell we were under, what we were doing, his cock, the kiss, and C’s comment. I kind of laughed sitting back up next to him. I mean none of this was planned, I had NO idea when we got in the truck this morning, now, here we were.

“I’ve trashed guys; I need to go to bed,” I said looking at both of them.

“You are a grade, A, fuckin pussy, Addam. I got a bag of those infused joints and we need to smoke another. Or are you afraid of OD’ing on weed? Afraid we might have our way with you?” Brice said getting up to fetch a new one.

When he came back the smoke was rolling from his lips. “Nose hits, guys.” And he put the cherry in his mouth pulling on C’s neck and started blowing. It was a lot of smoke.

He straddled my naked lap with his naked bottom blowing smoke in my face. His eyes locked on mine with a smile, arms on either side of my head, and as I chocked he pulled it from his mouth but didn’t get up. He looked at both of us, the joint back between his lips. He ran his fingers through Chancellor’s curls, pushed the hair from my right eye, then ran a hand over his short hair.

“OK. You’re in my bed.”

“Pussy”

“Yeah, Brice. You’re, in our bed.” Chance announced.

“I got to pee,” I said walking to the deck positioning my cock between the slats.
They each stepped up on either side and we all waited for our streams to start. I had to laugh because for some reason we were Pee shy even though we had jacked off twice. They each moved to the other two sides. After finishing we all turned and laughed. It was funny, considering.

Brice whined like a little bitch climbing the ladder to the loft and his hammock. I was against the wall, Chance got in next to me.

“Oh, hell no. Your head is at the foot of the bed, Stretch.”

“Come on. My head will be hanging over the end.” The redhead said to me.

‘There’s always a hammock.” I said.

“Fine.” He said turning in the bed putting his feet in my face just to make a point.

“That tickles.” He said giggling.

“I didn’t say stop.” And I ran my teeth across it.

“You bit me.”

“If you stick that in my face I’m gonna suck it or bite it,” I told him.

“I can hear you guys.” Came from above.

I pinched a nipple with my toes telling him to turn around. Now we were side by side, his head next to mine, our sides touching, and I leaned in close to his ear.

“He doesn’t know does he?” Chance knew what I was talking about.

The rock paper thing. Brice always did rock and Chance always did paper; Brice always lost not knowing why. I mean even best two out of three. And he shook his head No.

My eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and I could see Chancellor with the cover up to his navel, eyes open looking up to the loft; me on an elbow looking at him. My hand moved on its own accord, a finger twirling above the spot that connected him to the woman that gave birth.

“That tickles.”

“I know” but I didn’t stop.

“What’s it feel like?” I asked in a whisper.

“What’s what, feel like?”

“Come on. You really want me to say it?” I asked again in a whisper.

“I think it’s necessary. What do you really want to know, Addam?”

“The way you can. It was hot, as, fuck.”

“What do you want to know, A?”

“What’s, it, feel, like?” I asked again wanting to know.

He rolled over straddling my frame. He looked down on me. His face lowered closer to mine, “Did you like kissing him?” He asked kissing my eyes.

“What’s, it, feel, like?” I asked again pushing him back.

“You’re so… funny, Addam.”

“This isn’t funny, damn it.

“OK. You got closer than I ever have. There’s something in there.” He finished as I cupped his ass.

“What about these?” I asked with one hand moving to his balls. “You shave them, don’t you?”

“I think that’s just a little too personal.”

“Personal? Really? You suck your own dick, I was fucking you with your own dick, what’s it feel like?”

From your Author:

I appreciate those who comment and I wish the haters would comment so you guys could set them straight but, they email me. I don’t think I give too much, share things about myself, and what happens in my life. What comes from me I think is important, what pushes a guy like me, why I write and share as I do.

I don’t go into what I receive electronically but I got something the other day that gobsmacked me. I reply to many who email me and filter all the rest for content. I have to assume this reader has been around for a while because he referenced my Grandsons.

The email, that went on for over a page; six fonts, criticized me on more levels than I thought possible. I can identify hidden guilt, someone who wants what I have, wished their path was mine. This was a man, close to my age best I could tell, he’d done something or something had been done to him and had been festering for a long time.

I was shunned for taking my Grandson’s, accused of trying to groom them to be, ‘Grampy’s good boys’ turning them. What stood out the most was the thirty times he said, ‘I think you’. I so… wished he’d have aired his grievances in the comment section.

I reply to many a day, readers who want to share privately, those who want comfort, or want to comfort me. Love you all. I am not Dr. Phil; can’t fix things for you, you are the only one who can do that. RJC.