Marine Meets The Parents

Jim, my lawyer boyfriend, and I sailed through another week together. I was all but moved into his beautiful beach house which him and his 19 year old son, Perry, who was home from college for the summer. My condo was very useful, however, as it was about fifteen minutes from my office and ten from Jim’s. If you’ve already guessed that we had a few “lunch dates” you’d be right.

Friday was another of those “lunch dates”, and we’d really overdone it and were both going to be exceptionally late back to the office. It didn’t seem to be a problem when we’d looked at the clock after round one and I’d dove onto Jim for round two, but now we were rushed and knocking about together in my shower, which definitely wasn’t made for two big men.

Somehow we made it without incident and were dressed and heading down to the garage. I have to admit I had a strangely satisfied feeling that my second parking space was occupied . . . and proud that it was occupied by my hunky, hairy, muscly Jim. Thinking of his Beemer six series there in the spot that had never before been occupied made me puff a little – imagine the Marine snagging such a catch! The few times we’d run into other residents I’d enjoyed making it obvious we were together. They’d probably had a bit of confusion for the past few days because both of our cars had been in the shop for quick repairs due to an unfortunate accident in his driveway. AHEM!

We kissed by the cars and headed to our doors. “OH, Bill, I almost forgot to tell you. My folks are coming in tonight for the weekend so we can all be together for Father’s Day.”

I froze. “You FORGOT to tell me I’m meeting your parents, Jim? YOU FORGOT?!” I said, incredulously.

He looked across his car at me, and I could tell he not only genuinely had forgotten, but he didn’t get what a big deal this was. And believe me it was a HUGE deal!

“Is it OK?” he asked, in an unknowing understatement of my terror. I was frozen in place, and I must have looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights. “Bill, I’m sorry, you’re right, we should have talked about them coming, since you live there, too, now.”

“Jim, I,” I stammered, but I couldn’t finish the sentence with more than an unintelligible moan, and I slumped back against my truck.

Jim came around the car to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re really upset, aren’t you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disregard you sharing the house with me. I guess I just didn’t think.”

“I, ummm, it’s uh not that.”

“Well what is it then?”

“Jim, we’re very new, and my first thought was just the horror of meeting your parents.”

Jim laughed. “They’re great, Bill, and they’ll love you.”

“Jim, seriously? What the hell do we tell them when they ask how we met? And what will they think about us together? And –“

Jim laughed some more and then kissed me and laughed some more. “Bill, my parents know I’m gay and have since I was a kid in law school, if not before.”

“But—“

“But nothing, Bill. We’re TOGETHER, Bill, aren’t we?” I think I nodded. Actually I flashed to our rowdy sex from not that long earlier and had two thoughts. First, yeah, we’re together – no way I could be rocked like Jim rocks me unless we really ARE together, connected. Second, Bill’s parents banging on our bedroom door as the bed banged apart and we crashed to the floor. OH SHIT . . . the bed was still in pieces because the carpenter was coming Saturday to try and repair it. They’d ask why, and then… “Bill, relax, OK, just relax.”

I took a deep breath and stood tall again. Shit I’d been in combat several continents, and I was shaken by meeting the parents of the man I was hoping to spend the rest of my life with. “I’m OK.”

“Is it because it’s Father’s Day and your parents are, uh, aren’t here any longer?” he asked me, still holding me.

Then I laughed. Laughed HARD. “Oh, God, Jim, no it’s not that at all. No, it’s not that,” I said, still laughing. Jim was still holding me, looking at me quizzically. “Jim, I have visions of your dad, strong, scary and imposing, confronting me and asking my intentions, of my face betraying that I’m butt-fucking his son every chance I can get, of your mom sniffing a little every time she looks at me and thinks about her son throwing his life away on depravity, worrying about her grandson in the same house, SHIT!” I was getting worked up again, having gone from funny to horror all over again.

“Why don’t I just stay here tonight, Jim?”

To that, Jim’s face fell, and just the sight of his smile going to a disappointed and sad frown cut through me. I wasn’t used to that, to being responsible for someone, and that’s the way I felt, responsible for his happiness. He started to say something, but I immediately stopped him. “I didn’t mean I want to do that, Jim.”

Jim looked down. “Bill, I didn’t mean to push you. I don’t mean to push you. I just—“

I took a big breath and found the courage to say, “I will be honored to meet your parents, Jim, and I just pray they’ll like me.”

It was like I’d found the right switch and turned Jim’s happiness back on, and it rushed through me as I saw his smile and excitement. “They’ll LOVE you, Bill, just like I do.”

The second he said it his eyes got wide. And mine must have been just as wide. That moment seemed to last a long time. For the first time I knew what “pregnant pause” meant. I didn’t know if I was expected to say it back. Hell I hadn’t said that to any man in my life ever. I didn’t even know what it meant.

Jim broke the tension by putting his hand on my cheek. “There, I said it, didn’t I?”

“Ummmm,” I struggled for words.

“I know I love you, Bill. And I’m sorry if I scared you by saying it. But after all you’re my big, strong Marine colonel, and I bet you can handle it.”

“Jim, I—“

Jim put his fingers on my lips. “Don’t. You don’t have to say anything, Bill. But I’m not sorry I said what I did. I do love you. And what’s more, I told my parents that I have met the love of my life. And that’s what prompted them to get on a plane today.”

“Wow.”

His face lit up again. “I love when you say that.” He pulled me tight and kissed me, this time deeply and long. And I was lost in it, as I seemed to always be. When he pulled away, my head was light, and I’m sure I was smiling. “See you tonight,” he said, kissing my lips quickly again. “OK?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Jim gave my cheek another swipe, still smiling broadly. He opened the passenger door of his car behind him and jumped across into the driver’s seat. I pushed his car door shut and leaned over, and he laughed and leaned up for another kiss. “For what it’s worth, Jim, I’m really glad.”

“Glad my parents are coming?” he said, laughing.

“Don’t push it,” I shot back, laughing, too.

“See you tonight, babe.”

I got back to work, and I had plenty to make my thoughts roil. I must have been more distracted than I thought, because one of my co-workers, one I’d gotten a bit friendly with, came by and plopped down in the chair by my desk. “You must really like whoever you’re catting around with at lunch lately.”

“Huh?” I asked, articulately – NOT!

“You come back late, you’re flushed like you’ve had a hard workout, but it’s obviously a very different kind of workout because you sit here zoning out like my lovesick teenage daughter. Believe me I know the look.”

I felt my face flush.

“I KNEW IT!”

I stood up and pulled him out of his chair. “OK, OK, Graves. Move along now. Nothing to see here. Go on.”

He laughed. “Enjoy it, Cate. Whoever it is, she’s obviously putting you right. I don’t think I ever saw you smile before these last two weeks.”

I found myself, incredulously, saying, “He, not she.”

Graves looked surprised then broke out in a grin. “Well, that’s just fine with me, Cate, no problem at all.”

We stood there awkwardly. Graves didn’t have anything else patronizing to say about finding out the ex Marine was a fag. And I was too stunned by my own proclamation to say anything. He finally broke the silence. He put out his hands and said, “Seriously, Cate, you’re obviously happy. Enjoy, man. Congratulations.”

I took his hand and thanked him, meaning it more than he knew. I sat back down after he left, and I texted Jim: I JUST OUTED MYSELF AT WORK. His back to me: OMG Mine back: LOOK OUT. NEXT WE’LL BE MARCHING IN PRIDE! His back: I’LL MARCH ANYWHERE WITH YOU, BABE! * * * * * * * * * * *

I drove home – to OUR home – with butterflies like I hadn’t had since just before my last combat mission. Meeting the parents. OK, I could do this. I hoped.

I found both Perry’s and Jim’s cars in the garage. I was half hoping Jim wouldn’t be home yet, still at the airport collecting his parents. OK, here we go, I thought, as I got out, collected my backpack and went to the house.

How was this going to go? I’d walk in. I’d find them in the great room with its incredible view of the beach and ocean. They’d all be talking, laughing, familiarly, maybe Jim’s mother would be pinching her grandson’s cheek or telling him he was too skinny and needed to eat more. They see me, and they’d all stop and turn toward me. They’d give me the once over. Twice over. Dad would glare at me. Mom would look sadly, disappointed that it was true, I wasn’t a woman in her son’s life. OH SHIT.

BREATHE, Cate, BREATHE!

The door to the house swung open, and Perry said, “Come on, Colonel, you can do this.”

“I, uh,”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t even take this long getting into the house when I come home late after partying too much and am making sure I can get into the house without stumbling and giving myself away. Come on inside. You’ll be fine,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside enthusiastically.

We went through and past the hallway into the kitchen, and as I saw Jim and his parents sitting in the great room, where I’d imagined (and shuddered), Perry clamped an arm around my shoulders and said, “Nana, Grampa, this is my dad’s most excellent boyfriend, Colonel Cate. You’re gonna love him.”

I was gonna kill the kid, I swear.

Before I had time to react, though, both Jim’s parents were on their feet and came up and were hugging me and saying hellos and how glad they were to meet me. I could see past them to Jim, who was just sitting there, looking uber-handsome and hunky and also beeming proudly.

Somehow I managed to be coherent in speech and greet them and even not be too embarrassed by Jim’s mother exclaiming, “Jim, he’s VERY handsome!” and Jim’s dad’s appraisal “Big strapping Marine, you’re right, Perry.” Obviously there’d been some talk about me.

There were questions, “call us Bob and Jeanne”, pats on the back, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream that someone – I hope it was Jeanne – grabbed my ass at one point. That was the game-changer, because just after that Jim was rescuing me with, “OK, let’s let Bill get himself settled,” followed by a kiss and then, “Why don’t you get comfortable, and we’ll think about going out to dinner?”

Perry added snarkily, “Don’t get TOO comfortable, you two. The kid and grandparents are hungry!”

Jim shot him a look – my own look was mortified – and Bob and Jeanne laughed a little too heartily. “We’ll be fine,” Bob said. “You boys take your time.”

In Jim’s bedroom, he was buoyant, exuberant, kissing me and talking, seemingly at the same time. “I’m so happy,” he exclaimed. And even though I was overwhelmed and sweating in the aftermath of the encounter, his excitement was infectious.

“I don’t know what I expected, but whatever it was, this was much better, Jim.”

He pounced on me, kissing my neck and fumbling with my belt and pants waist determinedly. “I’ll show you better!” he growled.

“Jim, uh, don’t you think—“ He had my cock out by that time, and, my own thoughts were side-tracked.

He sucked me eagerly, aggressively, shoving my pants and boxer briefs down, ripping off my shoes and socks, and yanking them all off me, never taking his mouth off my cock. His one hand was on my sac, working it HARD the way that pushed me to overdrive before I could catch my breath.

I managed to get my shirt up and bunched it into my mouth to bite on so I didn’t make my usual loud exclamations as his mouth did its magic. When I was getting closer he suddenly got up and turned around and backed himself only my raging cock. He’d somehow gotten the shorts he had been wearing unbuttoned and down and stepped out of then like a pro as he turned around and backed up to me.

He shoved back hard onto me, and he let forth a loud but muffled growled loud when I popped into him and went balls deep. I could see in a mirrored closet door that he had my boxer briefs stuffed in his own mouth! I was still chewing on my shirt and making louder noises than I wanted, but at that point I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to.

I had my hands which had been on his head skull-fucking him now on his shoulders, holding him as I slam fucked him hard. I was close, and I was certain this would be one time I’d have to either finish first and then finish him off afterward or I’d have to reach around and stroke him to get him off while I fucked him, neither of which had happened to us yet. But I was wrong.

Jim raised up some, still grinding into my thrusting cock, throwing his back against my chest and his head back in a muffled yell as I felt that familiar sensation around my cock of him clenching and spasming, and his cum started shooting. And the explosion that ripped through me seeing him, feeling him, was atomic, and I drove into him like I wanted to hurt him as my cum blasted into him.

We were standing that way, in the hall inside his bedroom with the closets, my sweaty back against the wall, still deep in him, as we both gasped for breath. I had wrapped my arms around his muscular sweat-soaked torso and was inhaling his sweat on his shoulder and the back of his neck. My fingers strayed to his still rock-hard nipples, as always enjoying every part of him and the signs of his excitement. He was an ego-boost of epic proportions.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” he murmured.

“You’re a BAD boy, Mr. Ellis!” I chided playfully.

“And you’re an incredible fuck, Colonel Cate,” he purred back, gyrating against me enough to set my balls to boil again.

I shoved him off roughly and laughed. “God, now we need another shower, and your folks are out there waiting.”

Jim’s eyes were playful, dangerous, as he came to me face-to-face and kissed me hungrily. I could taste myself in his mouth, and it was heady and made me lose my train of thought . . . again. Our hands were everywhere, and it could have gone from there if Jim hadn’t pulled back suddenly and said, “Damn, Colonel, you rev my jets!”

“That makes two of us, counselor! Shower?”

We showered and dressed afterward quickly. When we got back to the great room, Perry was animatedly telling his grandparents about something to do with one of his labs. He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw us, and his excited look went to a snarky grin. He might as well have pointed at us and yelled, “J’accuse!” Instead he said, “NOW, can we get some dinner?”

“Mom, pop, you ready?” Jim asked, pointedly looking at their half-empty martini glasses.

“Bottoms up, babe,” Bob said, and clinked his wife’s glass as they drained the rest. “Now we are,” he said, with enthusiasm.

I noticed that Jim’s arm was around me about the time he gave me a squeeze. His mother noticed, too. “Bob, remember when we were like them?”

I half expected Bob to shoot back, “WE were NEVER like THEM!” or something like that. Instead, as they came toward us, he put his arms around both of us and said, “We’re both so happy for you boys.”

WOW was what I said inside. I have no idea what I actually said. And at that moment Perry bounded over to us and wrapped his arms around them and me on my side and reminded us not to forget him . . . and not to forget dinner!

So we went out and did the mundane things like figuring out what car to take that would fit five of us (Perry’s SUV), had the sometimes uncomfortable moments in conversation when topics got to sad or unpleasant memories (my parents and Bob wanting to go a little too deep into my combat experiences, respectively) and, generally, what I hadn’t had in a very long time – a family time. Jim often touched my hand or arm or just gazed at me adoringly, and I probably had as goofy a look on my face when I had the odd moments of not being involved in parrying the questions from his folks. Every time we touched I saw his mom react – with a smile or by squeezing Bob.

When dessert came, Perry shocked both Jim and I by giving us a card addressed to both of us. “I didn’t want to wait for Sunday,” he said, with a little flush of his cheeks, embarrassment I had never seen before. “Go on, open it,” Bob and Jeanne said to both of us, as I held the card where he’d handed it to me.

I passed it to Jim, who opened it. And inside there was a commercial Father’s Day card to “My Two Dads”. I was both panicked at my world spinning so fast and also humbled to the verge of tears.

Jim sniffed a little as he thanked his son. And I was speechless and instead pulled Perry, who was sitting next to me in the huge semi-circular booth, to me in a hug. Jim had passed the card to Bob and Jeanne, who were exclaiming through choked-up voices, and Jim was squeezing my thigh under the table with a trembling hand. Just when the whole things was threatening to go into a mush-fest, Perry saved us. “Well, I figure,” he proclaimed loudly, “That buys me major points that I’ll call in when I screw up next time!”

I tossled his hair without even realizing it should have been his father to do that. Jim just said, “Thank you, Perry.”

Yeah, I really have found a life . . . and a family.