The Road Less Traveled – Chapter 8
When you pay more than three-quarters of a million dollars for a luxury motorcoach, it comes with a lot of bells and whistles. Those I’ve enjoyed from the first day were the blackout shades in the bedroom. The first sign of morning was a delicate caress on my stomach. Fingers traced my microscopic vellus hairs around my belly button, circling the scar left by my umbilical cord over twenty-four years ago.
When Gabe reached my sternum, I felt the familiar fluttering in my stomach. He didn’t stop; his fingers arced around, swooping to the right of my navel before curving below. He stopped when his index finger found the lacy waistband of my panties. I admired his bravery while I slept. Every journey one takes begins with a first step.
I murmured, “Good morning, sweetie. I don’t think anyone’s ever awakened me in such a pleasant way.”
When his fingers retreated from my panties, I put my hand on top of his a few inches above my belly. He stammered, “G-, good morning, Syd. At first, I thought last night was a dream. Waking up next to you and, um, seeing your, ah, boobs, I knew it wasn’t a dream.”
Although my bedroom was dark, I could see Gabe’s body just as he had been last night. Naked. And sporting his morning wood. I could hardly believe he could cum, even though he was still a few days shy of turning twelve. With my hand over his, I guided it upwards, along the pronounced ridges of my ribs. I had never put my bra back on before falling asleep, so there was nothing to push aside before resting his palm on one of my tits.
Warm tingles spread across my chest as his fingers played with a nipple. I moaned as pleasure ebbed and flowed through me. I moved closer to Gabe, and leaned in, “Kiss me!”
Our lips touched. Gabe’s lips worked the kiss like a pro. He applied what he learned. I shifted in the bed until our bodies touched, although his hand kept playing with my tit.
With no underwear, his cock pressed against my pubic mound. When he came up for air, Gabe gasped, “This feels like we’re more than just friends.”
When I realized how badly I wanted this young boy to take me, to own me, the last thing I wanted was for him to see the aunt/nephew dynamic. He had to see me as a friend first. My greatest desire was for him to see us as more than that.
I nibbled on his lip before resting my head on his shoulder, “I feel it too. Gabe, have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“No. Mom says I can date when she’s dead.”
The words hung over us like a knife. He muttered an apology, “It’s what she said, Syd. It’s just knowing how sick she is, I feel bad about saying that.”
I caressed his back, “It’s alright, Gabe. Your mom just wants to hold on to your childhood after it’s gone. But while you’re with me, how would you feel about making up our own rules?”
He nuzzled his face against my neck, “Like last night?”
Heat poured through me, “Yeah. I feel the same way you do; like we’re a lot more than just friends.”
Gabe’s lips sought mine. He kissed me and played with my chest until he ran out of breath. “So, we’re more than friends?”
I squeezed him in my embrace, “You’re so strong, Gabe. What did I tell you last night?”
“You said I conquered you. But I still don’t understand what it means, Syd.”
My lips brushed against his, and I slid my hand between our bodies and cupped it over his cock, “It means I want you to kiss me. To force your hands up my shirt and play with my tits, to take me and make me yours.”
I felt his heart pounding against his chest. His voice shook, “Like sex?”
I gazed into his eyes and nodded, “Yes, Gabe. I want you to possess me like the men in my books.”
His cock pulsed against my palm. His voice was raw with desire, “I, uh, I need to pee. I’ll be right back, Syd.”
Despite the blackout curtains, I enjoyed the sight of his ass before he disappeared into the toilet closet. I wanted to feel his nearly five inches slide into me. My panties were drenched with my juices. Were he to return and mount me and fuck me, I was wet enough.
It was a silly fantasy for sweet, adorable Gabe to play the role of asshole billionaires. Or for me to take whatever he dishes out. I hated every one of the five minutes Kyle fucked me when I was a college freshman. He was rough and unskilled and hurt me when he took my virginity. Yet, I was basically asking Gabe to play a similar role. Sometimes our psyches are fucked up. I won’t deny it. Gabe wasn’t like that one time before. He was the personification of my fantasies, of rough, capable men who knew what they wanted and knew how to take it and give the heroine what she needed too.
The sound of water being suctioned from the toilet alerted me that Gabe was done. A moment later, he came out and stood at the corner of the bed. His cock was limp. Absentmindedly, he toyed with it as he looked at me, indecision on his face. While I wanted him to take control, I knew I’d need to help him along, “What would you like to do first, sweetie?”
He glanced at his three soft inches, “Can you do what you did last night?”
I nodded, “Sure. Come here.”
He climbed onto the bed and I took his hand and pulled him to me. As much as I wanted him inside me, that look on his face reminded me sex was something to work toward. I said, “Straddle my stomach, Gabe.”
He slid his knee over my stomach and sat on my belly. Even though he weighed over a hundred pounds, it wasn’t too much. I took him in my fingers and watched the three-inch limp noodle transform into almost five inches of boy-steel. Once he was hard, I slowly jacked him up and down a few times. Even though he sat on my stomach, I wished his cock was closer to me. I don’t know why. Never in my life had I let a guy put his cock into my mouth, but Gabe’s beautiful cock fascinated me.
I let go of him long enough to put my hands against his butt and pulled at him. Without a word exchanged, Gabe inched forward, moving from my belly to just below my tits. My fist wrapped around him and I jacked him up and down a few more times. With just a finger, I pushed his dick down until it lined up with my face. Six inches separated my mouth from that morsel of boy meat.
He couldn’t help but notice, “Do you want to lick it?”
“If you don’t mind.”
He didn’t. Gabe shifted his hips forward until his circumcised glans touched my lips. I kissed the tip. Unlike sex videos, or what I recalled from Kyle, there was nothing leaking from that little hole, although there was a hint of piss. A second lick and even that taste faded.
I took him by the base and bobbed forward, sliding his helmet shaped head through my lips. My tongue slid through his tiny piss slit, eliciting an excited hiss, “Oh, wow!”
I was ready to take more of him into my mouth when my phone rang. We both ignored it. He pushed his hips, and I pushed my face toward him. My lips slid past the perfect ring formed by his circumcision. The heat from the first inch of his pole plus his glans made me salivate. I wanted all of him.
The phone rang again. Gabe’s hiss was one of frustration. I pulled back and grabbed the phone. It was from Bakersfield. Thoughts of Abby pushed through my horniness and I said, “Just a sec, sweetie. Maybe it’s your mom.”
I swiped the answer button, and tried to make my voice sound like I hadn’t been giving my first blowjob to a nearly twelve-year-old, “Hello?”
A gravelly voice responded, “Ms. Nelson? Ms. Sydney Nelson?”
“This is Father Sandoval, I’m a chaplain at Embracing Arms Hospice. Your sister has been our guest.”
I felt confused. When Abby had called, she told us she was being treated at one of the local hospitals. When had she gone to a hospice? And why the hell now? Even though I had Gabe’s succulent meat inches from my face, icy dread clawed at my stomach. “Is there something wrong with Abby?”
“I’m sorry to say, your sister passed away this morning.”
Gabe could hear the priest’s every word, so close was he to me. He leaned back, a stunned expression on his face. I stammered, “Wha-, how? She called us last night from the hospital. Sure, she said it was worse than she feared, but this morning? Good God, what happened?”
Gabe slid from my chest, nestling against me, tears falling down his cheeks. One of my arms slid around his back, pulling him against my side. I turned the speaker on; He was already listening, there was no point in even trying to hide the call. Father Sandoval said, “So that’s what she told you. She came to us about three weeks ago after receiving a terminal diagnosis for stage four breast cancer. She was terminal at that time.”
Nothing about this conversation was going the way I expected. “But the treatment? She told me when I came to pick up Gabe that her doctors wanted her to undergo a couple of months’ worth of chemo at the hospital. Why would she lie about that?”
“I think she wanted to spare her son the agony of watching her die over a protracted illness. Didn’t your mother pass from cancer too?”
My voice was raw and ragged, “Y-, yeah. Abby was there for the whole thing. Mom lingered for a while.”
There was compassion in the priest’s voice, “I’m really sorry, Ms. Nelson. I doubt there’s any consolation, but many of our guests linger until their bodies are all that remain. I heard your sister’s confession last night and although she was in a lot of pain, she was also very much of sound mind.”
He was right. I found little consolation. I looked at Gabe and through his tears he mouthed, “how?”
I asked the disembodied voice, “It sounds like you expected her to hang on longer. What changed?”
The priest said, “Abby went into cardiac arrest around five o’clock this morning. Like most of our guests, she had a Do Not Resuscitate order on file. There was nothing to be done.”
I wanted to scream that he could bring back my sister. But I knew it wouldn’t help. Abby went out the way she wanted, even if she cut Gabe and me out of the process. I wanted to blame her, but after what she went through with our mom, it was hard to fault her.
Gabe looked at me with his tear-soaked eyes, “What’s going to happen now?”
The priest must have thought he was talking to the phone. “Young man, I’m sorry for your loss. Your mom told me how much she loved you. For now, she took care of her own arrangements. She wants to have a graveside mass once you guys are back in town.”
Bakersfield was a two-day drive in the RV. I couldn’t imagine putting Gabe through that. Not now. “We’re in Colorado at the moment. We can probably fly out later today and be there tonight.”
The priest said, “You’ve got a bit of time. If you’d like, you can have the vigil on Friday evening and interment at the cemetery on Saturday. Most of Abby’s friends aren’t Catholic and she asked to forego the funeral mass at church.”
As a lapsed Catholic, I didn’t care. But it meant a lot to Abby, “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Father Sandoval spoke with us for a few more minutes. When the call ended, Gabe wrapped his arms around my neck and cried. I held him close as my tears mixed with his. In one unexpected phone call, his world had been upended. The security he found in his mom was gone, crushed under the terrible weight of cancer. My world was upended. The uncertainty of Abby’s diagnosis and treatment was over. Her fight was over. There was no pretending that she would recover or that Gabe would return home.
For better or worse, we were going to be together until his eighteenth birthday. The part of me who was still his aunt knew I needed to do better; I was a horrible parental role model. The other part of me wanted something more. It was that part of me who saw Gabe’s potential as a writer, as someone who made me feel alive and part of something wonderful.
I didn’t know which of those two parts to give Gabe, so I cried with him until we could find no more tears. Eventually, he let go of me and wiped his nose with his elbow. He hiccupped, “Wh-, what am I supposed to do now, Syd?”
Drying my eyes, I said, “Can you google the nearest airport with commercial flights? I’m going to get dressed and start loading the RV. Today’s going to be a long day, sweetie, and we best get moving.”
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