The Hidden Past
By Willie Cici - 2018-07-12 17:39
Jason had heard the question posed to him hundreds of times over the last four days. He understood why people were asking. His mother had passed away, having succumbed to cancer only diagnosed within the last four months. His life had changed. The 26-year-old had lost his father years ago. Now, his mother, his only real blood relative, had also died. The only child faced this harsh reality alone, surrounded only by his closest friends.
“Yes, Aaron. I’m okay. It’s just . . . I can’t believe it. I . . . I . . .”, Jason said.
“I know. Do you want company? I can stay.”, Aaron asked.
“Yes. We’ll stay. At least for the night.”, Aaron’s girlfriend, in the back seat insisted.
“No, Erica. I’m okay. I want to be alone for a while. I’ve been dealing with people non-stop for the last four days. I . . . need some time alone.”, Jason said, as he opened the door of Aaron’s car.
“Okay, but tomorrow. We’re coming over.”, Erica said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll . . . we’ll go for a run.”, Jason countered. “I could use the exercise.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”, Aaron replied. Jason closed the door of Aaron’s vehicle and walked towards the front entrance of his mother’s home, his boyhood residence. He had not lived in the house since college but returned to live with his mother when the doctors advised that the radiation and chemotherapy had not abated the cancer. Jason noticed the mailbox was full, envelopes addressed to his Mom, ‘Karen Reynolds’. He retrieved the mail and hunted for the key to the house in his front pants pocket. Once he opened the door of the home, Jason removed his suit jacket and tossed it upon the couch in the parlor. He walked into the kitchen, opened the frig and found a beer. He cracked open the bottle and gulped half of the bottle’s contents. Jason stared through the bay window of the breakfast nook, onto the patio that led to the pool. He shed a tear as he pondered his mother’s last days. He finished the beer and tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin near the trash bin.
Jason climbed the staircase and headed for his room. As he passed the master bedroom, Jason stopped and peeked inside the room. The hospice staff had removed the hospital bed, restored the room to its original condition and tidied the room, removing all the traces of his mother’s last days. The clothes closet was open. He stared at the rows of clothes. He knew he would have to start cleaning out her effects, donating much of the items to charity. His parents had no siblings. There were no family who could take his mother’s clothes, he thought to himself. He hurried out of the bedroom. “Not tonight. I can’t deal with this now.”, Jason muttered to himself.
Jason walked into his room and disrobed, opting to grab a pair of cotton pajamas. Even though it was only 7pm, Jason had no intention of going out or entertaining anyone who approached his door. He walked down the stairs, in his pajamas, headed for the kitchen to grab another beer and walked into the den, to watch some television, to distract his mind from the harsh reality.
Sometime around 11pm, Jason opened his eyes. After two more beers, he had fallen asleep in front of the television. The game was over. He did not even know who won, and he did not care. Jason moseyed up the staircase and headed for his bedroom. He turned back the covers of his bed and crawled underneath the sheets, hoping to fall asleep.
Around 2am, Jason opened his eyes. He walked towards the bathroom to relieve himself. He had been tossing about the bed for the last thirty minutes. He passed by the master bedroom and stared again into his mother’s empty bedroom, scanning the furniture, the bed and the closets. His eyes caught sight of a pile of boxes on the top shelf of the closet. His curiosity was peaked. Jason walked into the bedroom and headed for the closet. He retrieved two of the boxes from the closet and placed them on the bed. After he sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, Jason opened the first box. In that box, his mother had kept mementoes of her wedding. He found a photo album of his parent’s wedding day, not the ‘official album’ that she proudly kept in the parlor but an album that Nanna had made for her daughter. On the cover, there was a picture of his Mom and Dad, with the caption, ‘Drew and Karen’. He looked at the pictures of his mom and dad, so young and so alive. Jason could not hold back the tears. “You died too young. Both of you.”, he wailed. “It’s not fair.” After he reviewed all the items in the box, Jason returned the album and other mementoes into the box. The next box, veiled in a coating of dust, intrigued Jason. No one, not even his mother, had touched his box for years, he surmised, based on the dust. As he opened the box, Jason smiled. In it, he found an assortment of photographs, randomly gathered. He examined all the photographs: his parents in college, on vacations, some of Jason’s baby pictures. At the bottom of the box, however, Jason found a pile of photographs torn in two. They were photographs of his father and a man. He recognized the man from the wedding album, one of the ushers. “Why are these torn in two?”, he wondered. Jason did not recognize the locations in many of the pictures. He tried to patch the photographs together to view them intact. “Why would Mom keep torn photographs?” Suddenly, Jason began to yawn. He looked at the alarm clock on his mother’s nightstand: 3:40am. “I’ve get to get to sleep.” He placed the photographs back in the box, but on top. He would revisit this mystery in the days to follow.
The next morning, Jason awoke around 9:00am. As he wiped the sleep from his eyes, Jason looked around his bedroom. “What day is it?”, he asked himself. He remembered: it was Sunday. He rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom, but not before checking his cellphone. Aaron had already texted him: Be there around noon. “I better shower.”, he thought to himself.
After Jason showered and dressed for a run in the Griffith Park, he descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a box of cereal and poured the cereal into a bowl lying the sink. Before he grabbed the milk, Jason walked into the formal parlor and found his mother’s wedding album. The torn photos in the box posed more questions than answers. Who was the man in the photograph? Jason hoped his mother’s wedding album could answer that question. After he poured the milk on his cereal, Jason sat the kitchen table and began to leaf through the pages of the wedding album. Luckily, his mother, known for her love of minutiae, had labeled the photographs with the names of the participants. He found the photograph of his mother’s girlfriend, Becky Wilson and her escort. Jason stared at the name: Luke Herren. He did not recognize the name. His parents, not having brothers and sisters, kept close with their friends, forming a network of surrogate brothers and sisters. Jason only learned in his early teens that ‘Aunt Becky’ was not his real aunt.
“Who is this man?”, Jason whispered. He had to know. He pulled out his cell phone and called ‘Aunt Becky’. She would know for sure.
“Hi! Are you okay?”, Becky said.
“I’m fine, Aunt Becky. I’m just sitting looking at Mom and Dad’s wedding album.”, Jason answered. After a pregnant pause, Jason asked, “Who is Luke Herren?”
“No one you need to know about.”, Becky answered sternly. “No one.”
“I found a box of photographs in Mom’s bedroom. There were some photos of Dad and Luke, but they were torn in two.”, Jason said.
“I told her to get rid of those photographs. Just . . . he was nobody. He deserves to be forgotten.”, Beck said.
“Aunt Becky, don’t get mad. Just answer the question. Who was he?”, Jason insisted.
“I’m not going to answer any of these questions. If you need me for anything else, just call.”, Becky said, ending the call.
Jason stared at the cell phone. “What the fuck was that all about?” Something was up and Jason had no intention of letting the mystery remain unknown.
A month later ---
Jason paused for a moment to rest and catch his breath. His muscles ached after the long-grueling workout, but he knew he had another twenty minutes. (To see Jason exercising, click here).
“C’mon. Eight more.”, Aaron urged.
Jason stared at his friend and trainer. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Jason, I . . . I don’t know. What are you going to gain from meeting this man?”, Aaron asked.
“I can learn the truth. There’s so much I don’t know about my father. I want to know.”, Jason said.
Aaron shook his head. “Plus, you have to travel to Saint Louis.”
“Aaron, if I don’t do this, I will have this nagging feeling looming in my head. You know I’m serious about this. I hired an investigator to find him. With today’s technology, it didn’t take long, but still.”, Jason said. “They’re all dead, Aaron. Except Luke. He’s the only one who knows the truth.”
Aaron shook his head. “Ignorance is bliss, sometimes. I would let it go.”, he said.
Jason quickly resumed his deadlifts. He had decided to find Luke Herren, despite Aaron’s advice to the contrary.
Jason followed the directions of his GPS, through the crisscross of streets in Lafayette Square, in Saint Louis. When he reached the 1900 block of Kennett Place, Jason parked his car and walked towards the restored antique home, with its imposing stucco exterior, marble stairs and impressive carved doors. He gathered the courage, climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.
When the door open, Jason found a tall, imposing man, older, probably closer to his father’s age, staring at him. Years had not robed the man of his handsome appearance and his build. “Can I help you?”, the man said.
“Are you Luke Herren?”, Jason asked.
The older man stood in the threshold of his door. He did not smile, but he did not scowl. “Who are you?”
“My name is Jason.”, Jason answered.
Before he could say another word, the man’s eyes bugged. “You’re Drew Reynolds’ boy?”
“How did you know?”, Jason asked.
“Your eyes. The waves of your hair. Your face. Even your build.”, Luke said. He paused for a moment. “Does your mother know you are here?”
“Mom passed away about six weeks ago.”, Jason announced.
“I’m sorry to hear that. We had our . . . whatever. Time heals all wounds.”, Luke said.
“What wounds would that be, Mr. Herren?”, Jason asked. “I’m hoping that you can answer some questions.”
Luke hesitated for a moment. “How old are you?”
“I’m 26.”, Jason replied.
Luke nodded ‘yes’. “Come in”, he said. Jason followed Luke into the foyer of the home and into the formal parlor. The home was beautifully appointed.
“You have a nice home.”, Jason said.
“I’m a contractor and interior designer.”, Luke replied. “I used to be a psychotherapist, but I gave it up.”
“It shows.”, Jason said, as he sat down. Luke remained standing, staring at Jason. “Mr. Herren . . .”
“Luke. You travelled hundreds of miles. Call me ‘Luke’.”, he said.
“Luke, why would Mom tear up photographs of you and Dad?”, Jason asked.
Luke took a seat on the couch next to Jason. “Because your father and I were lovers.”
Jason closed his eyes and then reopened them. “What did you say?”
“Your father and I were lovers.”, Luke answered.
“But Dad wasn’t gay.”, Jason said.
“He was . . . bi-curious.”, Luke replied.
Jason stood up and walked around the parlor, anxious, nervous, incredulous at what he heard. “I need a drink.”, Jason muttered. He stared at Luke and said, “I need a drink.”
“What’s your poison of choice?”, Luke asked.
“Scotch. Neat. A lot.”, Jason replied. Luke nodded ‘yes’. He went into the kitchen, poured two tumblers of scotch and returned to the parlor. Jason gulped half of his tumbler in one swallow. “When did this happen?”
“About a year after your mother and Drew married. I lived in Orland Park, back then, not too far from your house. Drew came to me for . . . therapy. He was having some issues with his marriage.”, Luke said.
Jason gulped the remaining sips of his scotch. “I need a refill.”, he said. Luke smiled. He took the tumbler, returned to the kitchen to fill the glass and walked back to the parlor. As he sipped the scotch, he said, “Why would Dad need therapy?”
Luke tried to explain to Jason the situation. With every word, Jason felt more and more betrayed. The second tumbler needed a refill. As he sat waiting for Luke to return with his third glass of scotch, Jason thought to himself, “I don’t know . . . who my parents were.”
“Your parents were good people. They loved you. Your father was . . .”, Luke paused. “It doesn’t matter. His diversion from the expected path lasted about a year before anyone found out.”
“And you and Dad were . . . lovers.”
“Yes.”, Luke said, calmly. He watched Jason chug the last drop of his third scotch. “This is a lot to handle, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”, Jason said, as he closed his eyes. The three tumblers of scotch, on an empty stomach, numbed his mind and his senses, leaving him a bit lightheaded.
“Are you okay?”, Luke asked.
“I’ve . . . I’ve got a headache. I’m just a little dizzy. I . . . I just need to close my eyes.”, Jason said.
“You do that. Lay down on the couch.”, Luke insisted. Jason followed Luke’s suggestion and reclined upon the comfortable couch. “Just close your eyes and breathe in and breathe out. Just close your eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. What’s your happiest place from your childhood?”
“The beach. We would go every year to the Outer Banks.”, Jason muttered.
“Okay. Close your eyes and picture yourself lying on the beach, watching the waves curl upon the beach. As the waves comes in, breathe in. As the waves go out, breathe out.”
Jason closed his eyes and pictured that pristine beach of his childhood. Breathe in; breathe out. He felt calm, relaxed, tranquil. Luke’s voice seemed to relax him, despite all the information he had provided. He could hear Luke talking to him as he breathed in and out, feeling calm, relaxed, pliant, accepting of everything Luke said. Slowly, Jason fell asleep, as he listened to Luke. “Breathe in, breathe out. Relaxed. Calm. Obedient to my voice. Ready to submit.”
Jason opened his eyes. As he lifted his head from the pillows on the couch, he could feel the pain of his hangover. He sat upright on the couch. When he stared forward, Jason made eye contact with Luke. “Did you have a nice nap?”
“Yes, Sir.”, Jason answered.
“Good boy.”, Luke replied. Jason felt a twinge in his groin when Luke said ‘boy’. “How do you feel, boy?”
“Good, Sir.”, Jason replied. Again, his cock twitched, aroused and getting hard.
“Good boy.”, Luke said again. He could see Jason’s cock beginning to tent in his khaki pants. “Why don’t you take off your shirt, boy.”
“Yes, Sir.”, Jason answered. He stood up and removed his designer polo shirt.
“Very nice, boy.”, Luke said. “Now the pants.” In a flash, Jason kicked off his shoes, removed his trousers and undid his socks. He stood in Luke’s parlor wearing only his black boxer briefs. His cock tented obscenely in the cotton-spandex briefs. “Now the briefs.”, Luke ordered. Jason complied. Luke smiled. “Like his father.”, he thought to himself. “Turn around.”, Luke ordered further. Jason turned around. The late afternoon sun cast a glow upon the stud’s naked frame. Luke licked his lips as he studied Jason’s beautiful buttocks. (To see Jason, click here). “You have a nice body, boy.”
Jason felt his cock bounce every time Luke called him ‘boy’. He looked at his cock, proud and erect, a droplet of pre-cum forming on the tip of his blood-filled member. “Thank you, Sir.”
Luke coursed his hands about Jason’s back, from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. He fondled Jason’s buttocks with both hands, and then reached around and stroked the stud’s erect cock. “You like that, boy?”
“You want me to stop?”, Luke asked.
“No, Sir.”, Jason answered.
“Good boy.”, Luke said, as he continued to stroke Jason’s cock, polishing the knob of his cock, feeling the ooze of pre-cum in his palm. Luke pumped Jason’s cock until finally, Jason’s cock erupted and shot a wad of cum. “Good boy.”, Luke said.
“Thank you, Sir.”, Jason said. Luke turned the stud around and kissed him. “Good little boy. You like playing with your cock.”
“Yes, Sir. Very much.”, Jason answered. The tone of his voice sounded more like a teenager than a 26-year old man.
“Good little boys love to play with cocks. Do you want to play with cocks, good little boy?”
“Yes, Sir. I wanna pway with cock.”, Jason answered. Now, his tone resembled that of a child.
Luke smiled. “Daddy wants Jason to play with his cock. Do you want to play with Daddy’s cock?”
“Yes. Pway with Daddy’s cock.”, Jason answered.
“Good little boy.”, Luke said. He took Jason by the hand and led him up the stairs to the master bedroom. He bid Jason to lay on the bed while he removed his clothes. Once he was naked, Luke hopped on the bed and straddled Jason, near his mouth and said, “Good little boys love to suck Daddy’s cock.”
“Yes, Daddy.”, Jason said. Luke opened Jason’s mouth and slid his semi-hard cock into Jason’s warm, wet mouth. His velvet tongue gave Luke a chill. He closed his eyes and remembered the times he and Drew played with each other. That was more than twenty years ago. Luke could not believe that Drew’s son was here, in his house, in his bed, sucking his dick.
“I lost your father, but I’m not losing you.”, Luke said to himself, as he face-fucked the 26-year old stud. He shoved his cock deeper and deeper in the young stud’s mouth, making sure that Jason deep-throated his 8” cock down to the base of his shaft. For minutes, Luke bobbed his cock in and out of Jason’s mouth until he climaxed, ounces of cum sliding down Jason’s throat.
Luke’s cock, still hard, demanded more. He ordered Jason to kneel on the bed. Luke grabbed some lube from the nightstand and spread the clear gel upon Jason’s buttocks and rosebud. He fingered the stud prompting a moan. “Feels good, little boy.”
“Yeth, Daddy. Feels good.”, Jason said. Luke slid two fingers into Jason’s hole and wiggled his fingers, prepping his hole for the inevitable. After greasing his rod, Luke slowly inched his cock into Jason’s asshole. “Oh!! Daddy. It hurts.”
“No, little boy. That’s not pain. That’s pleasure.”, Luke insisted. “Daddy would never do anything to hurt you. You like that pleasure.”
“Yes, Daddy.”, Jason moaned, as waves of painful pleasure filled his ass and massaged his prostate. He felt his dick getting hard. He wet his hands with the lube spread on his buttocks and stroked his cock. Luke watched Jason jerk-off as he plowed the stud’s ass.
“That’s it, little boy. Play with your cock. You like playing with your cock when Daddy plays with your boy pussy.”, Luke said.
“Yeah. Boy pussy.”, Jason said. Before long, Luke slid his cock out of Jason’s ass and stroked his cock to orgasm, blasting a load of creamy goo that landed mostly upon Jason’s buttocks, but also on the bedspread. Jason, the young stud, soon bust his nut, messing the bedding as well.
Luke took Jason by the hand and led him into the master bathroom. The two men bathed and toweled each other. Naked, they returned to the bedroom, turned down the bedding and reclined under the sheets, spooned with Luke’s cock nestled in the crack of Jason’s buttocks. “Sleep, little boy. Sleep.” Jason closed his eyes and fell asleep in Luke’s arms, just as his father had done twenty years ago.
The next morning, Luke awoke before Jason. He rose from the bed and stood before the window, thinking about what happened, but more importantly, what would happen next.
Jason noticed Luke standing at the window. The morning sun cast a glow upon Luke’s naked body. His strong, muscled frame filled the window. He stood like a DaVinci model, his arms extended, his legs spread wide. His taut, firm physique created a stunning impression. (To see Luke, click here).
Luke turned to face the bed and noticed Jason staring at him. Luke had lost Drew, but he could not lose Jason.
“Jason, stand up.”, Luke ordered. Jason hopped out of bed and stood near Luke. Luke marveled at Jason’s incredible physique, the curves of his sculpted chest, the cobbles of his core, his cock, proud and erect, ready for action. (To see Jason, click here). There was only one way he could keep and tame Jason. Luke opened the top drawer of his dresser and retrieved the item he wished he had twenty years ago: an acrylic cock cage. Despite Jason’s cock and ball size, Luke managed to lock Jason’s cock. (To see Jason, locked, click here).
“Jason, do you want to live here with Daddy? You can play with Daddy if you stay here and live here with Daddy.”, Luke asked.
“Yeth, Daddy.”, Jason answered.
“Okay, my good little boy. You can live here with Daddy.”, Luke said. He knew that Jason would have to relocate and create the impression that his moving to Saint Louis was volitional. That was logistical, not impossible. Luke smiled. “Now, let’s learn some new games.”, Luke said. “You want to play with Daddy?”
“Yeth, Daddy.”, Jason said.
Buried deep in the hidden past, Luke’s memory recalled how his life with Drew ended. The times were different. Drew could not abandon wife and expectant child.
Now, the future, it appeared, would not end in sadness, but in the pleasure of Luke’s ultimate victory over the hidden past.