Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don't read any further.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Accolades, encouragement, suggestions, comments, and corrections are welcome and gladly accepted. Flames will be utterly ignored. dog_oocl@yahoo.com.au
Chapter 12.
"Young man, you have a sharp tongue" She could talk. But, I must admit, sharp tongue good for rimming, just ask your son.
"Street solicitation is illegal in this State" joined in Warren, that handsome hypocrite.
"Oh, what about the guys who come looking for sex? Are they not partners to crime"
"Father, it there is no demand, then the will be no supply. I'm the guilty party, I was the demand chain" David came to my rescue. Good man. Supply and demand, catchy phrase, must remember that.
"So, offering sex in the open is illegal, but offering sex behind doors is legal!"
"I'm afraid that the law, selling sex in public is illegal"
"Hypocritical shit, pard' my language, money changed hands for sex, bimbos got paid in jewelry for sex, are not prostitution, and they are done behind closed doors, are all legal?" I stressed the word BIMBO.
While I was talking to Warren, I was looking at Dana, checking her reaction. Oh, she was angry, not towards me, though, funny enough. She was staring straight at Warren, with looks that could kill. He was the pussies chasing unfaithful husband, plenty of monies being spent on the BIMBOS alright, just read the tabloids. Warren was squirming in his chair. Round two, things heating up.
"Lets skip this unpleasant conversation, I'm a bit hungry, I hope you are too, Judy?" Changed tack. Bell ringing, back to your corners.
"Yes, thank you Mrs. Berg"
"I've asked the cook to prepare some Japanese and Thai dishes, I think you'll like them, do you use chop sticks?"
"Be honest with you, Mrs. Berg, Josh and I have never been to any Japanese or Thai restaurants, so, it will be new experiences for us, forks and knives for us, if that's OK"
The so called Japanese disches were bloody, yes, bloody raw Tuna, and some sea urchin's roe wrapped in rice and seaweeds. We didn't know what they were until we tasted it. Mom nearly threw up, but she managed to keep it in, determined not to embarrass David in front of his parents. I wasn't so polite, I spitted it out onto my plate, "Beg your pard', we country folks not used to eating raw seafood"
"Oh, these Tuna Sashimi, and sea urchin's roe Sushi are considered delicacies in Japan" Condecending bitch, she tried to humiliate us for being unsophisticated.
"Well, Mrs. Berg, I think that's the reason why the Japs lost the War, too much raw seafood and their soldiers got diarrhea" David giggled. Not funny, brother.
Then followed the Thai dishes, me and my mom were on fire, right from the first mouthful. Our genuine Hot Lips. David asked if mom would like something else instead, "No, no, I'm fine, thank you David" Every fucking kind of chillies and curries were served, I dearly loved to splash some onto Warren's prick and Dana's pussy. We drank tons of ice water trying to put out the fire. You should hear the curses coming out of the toilet next morning, my arse was on fire.
"Is everything alright, Judy?" "Oh, fine, thank you Mrs. Berg" Dana was having fun. Round three, our noses bloodied. That cunt.
The rest of the lunch was a nightmare. We struggled through. Not much conversation went on after the earlier chitchat analysing my last job. I couldn't wait to get out of that place. We were despised, looked down at. But your son was still with me, dear Mrs. Berg. Hurriedly said our good-byes, we escaped from prison. I was still hungry, so David rolled into KFC, it was finger licking good. We were eating quietly for 10 minutes, then David said "Diarrhea, eh!" We burst out laughing, mom was in tears. Lips still on fire?
When we got home that afternoon, light was blinking on the answering machine. Message from Acacia Ridge local copper. We guessed it must be my old man playing up once again, probably looking for bail. Mom called them up. After listening for 10 minutes or so, she put the phone down "Josh, the police told me your father is dead" "What?" "Yes, he was picked up last night by the police for violent behavior at the local pub, the duty sergeant found him dead in the cell this morning, apparently he hung himself by his shirt, I must return home to sort things out as soon as possible, David, I'm so sorry to trouble you again, could you be kind enough to book a flight for Josh and I?" "Hey, no trouble at all Judy, as a matter of fact I think I should go with you guys" "Oh, David, we should able to manage" "No, I insist". No argument, got to watch out for his bossiness.
Money made things happened. We were on the next available flight to Brisbane. Arrived Acacia Ridge just before midnight, checked into a local motel. Mom was sad, a bit teary. She still had her black dress on, well, my funeral remark came true, got to watch out for what I said in future. I was sad too, not for the old man, but for mom. I knew she loved the old man, hard not to after 20 years together, bad time, good time, birth of Jenny, birth of me, death of grannies, alcohol, me left home, death of Jenny, now him. 14 good years, 6 bad years. Too much memories. Death cancelled out all bad things he did, now on, only the goods things would be remembered.
I snuggled up to David that night, air conditioner humming, I felt cold. Heat from his body kept me warm. His arm around my neck, stroked my shoulder gently, kissed the back of my neck. I felt safe, I felt loved. My old man came and said good-bye to me in my dream that night.
Next morning, we went to the station around 8:30, the duty officer organised transport to take us to the morgue to ID the old man. Fucking miserable place. We had to take hold of mom's arms so she wouldn't fall over. We were told there would be a coronial inquest for the old man's death, but the body would be examined by the government doctor to confirm cause of death, which should be completed within the next 24 hours, then we could collect it and organise the funeral. But the result of the inquest could take several months to complete. We were given a business card from some funeral director the minute we got out of our car, the funeral arrangement was the easy part. Mom wanted cremation for the old man, same as Jenny, she said. The funeral rep wasn't overjoy. Not much commissions in cremation, I reckoned.
We went back to the police station to complete the paper works, signed this, signed that. Afterwards, we went home to sort out whatever was left behind. It was a pigsty. Piles of unopened mail, old news papers, slashed sofa, broken tables, broken glasses, smashed chairs, a mountain of wine bottles, beer bottles, vomits everywhere, no electricity, it had been cut off since mom left. Mrs. Newman filled us in all the missing bits. We borrowed a local yellow pages from Mrs. Newman, David rang a cleaning contractor and arranged for them to clean out the garbages. Not for us to move back in, but to return to the housing commission. Mom went into our bedroom, looked under Jenny's bed, found the photo album she was looking for. The only thing she wanted from our past.
Only three of us and the Newmans were at the cremation, our old man wasn't a popular figure. We went to a local restaurant for meals and a quick drink, a wake, sort of. Mom held the urn tightly. A collection of the Biggs' urns? "Rockhampton" "What about Rockhampton, mom?" "I'll take his ashes to Rockhampton, to be with your grannies, he missed his parents every day since their death, so, together again, yes, I'll do that"
We took a commuter's flight to Rockhampton. Found our grannies' graves. Mom asked if David would be kind enough to read some passages from the bible, the old man was a church goer before the alcohol took over his life. David delivered some passages from memories. Loved that deep and sexy voice, soothed my soul, soothed mom's pain. Mom did a little prayer, I just stood and watched. After she emptied the urn, "thank you so much, David, we will never be able to repay you, for all the things you've done for me and Josh" "You are my family, Judy, nothing is too much for the family" He had well and truly cemented his position as her son-in-law right there and then.
When we returned to Sydney, we were exhausted. The last thing I wanted was a knock-out round with that super bitch Dana Berg, it came too soon. But I was ready, or was I?
To be continued....