Aloysius Li Washington Ch. 05

"Li, I think you better call your folks too. You don't want them to read about this in the Post."

Li called his folks immediately. But his revelation was slow and tentative. They were surprised, but supportive. At first they asked many questions about me and how long the relationship had been developing. They knew of course how he had spent the last several years. They knew of his struggle with cancer, his recovery, and his rededication to the law. And they were so proud. He deserved happiness. They were anxious to meet the guy who had captured their son. His mother was obviously in tears, but she seemed to be okay with the situation.

"That was easier than I thought it would be."

"Well, we're headed over to the O'Malley homestead for breakfast—after church. I can't break this to them over the phone. I just called and invited us over. They of course know I'm gay. And I told them I was bringing my partner to meet them. But, I didn't use your name. It'll be a surprise—a very big one."

"Fine. So we've got one more night of privacy before we become public property. I want to roll around in bed and see what might happen. Just in case you plan to throw me away after breakfast tomorrow."

"Never, Li, never. But, you know I never refuse an invitation from you to sleep in your bed."

"Somehow, I don't think much sleeping is going to be going on." Li approached and before I could even react, Li hoisted me over his shoulder and both hands were up under the sweat leg openings, gripping the cheeks. The old Li was back, thank God.

Li carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed, falling instantly on top. At Li's instance, we did in fact roll around, grabbing and stroking in various positions. Somehow I just sensed that Li needed a fast, raw one tonight and he was stalling. If he was going to be out-ed, he wanted all the bene's of that status. He tore my clothes off and while straddling my chest, pulled off his own tee. When he raised his arms to do so, he took my breath away. His torso was absolutely spectacular. Then he held me in place with strong arms as he wiggled his own sweats to the floor. Li's cock rose proudly between us, dark, moist, with the hood half down, and the head a deepening purple, oozing pre-cum I had no chance. I was prey, bottom, lover, admirer--whatever Li wanted at the moment.

Li pushed me up into a wide jack-knife and I carefully held myself open with hands behind my knees. Li dove in and started licking. He was frantic. Then the lubed fingers invaded. I realized I was in for a rough ride. He was incredibly big, and when he plunged, I felt it in my throat. So I tried to relax—and concentrate on Li's wild eyes. He was a jungle animal, mating to preserve his line. Or maybe a rogue bachelor realizing that he was soon going to be mated for life, needing a last wild fling before the door closed. Soon, I felt the massive head at my entrance and pushed out to accept the intruder. The head popped in and another violent thrust carried Li's seed-carrier to the prostate. He knocked a few times and plunged again, bottoming. Suddenly, Li released my legs and pulled them around his waist. He actually took my breath away with his strength and fury. He pumped a few times and then stood, holding me to his chest, bouncing me on his enormous cock. I placed my head on his shoulder and began to bite—the way a female leopard bites her mate to hold him hard inside. Li was absolutely wild with passion. He simply couldn't get deep enough to be sure that I was always going to be a part of him.

I started to leak. My cock was dark and poised. I reached around Li's neck and dropped back forcing Li so deep that I was sure he had reached my stomach—but certainly not before punching my prostate.

And then it happened. Li started blasting. With each blast, he stiffened his legs and thrust his hips, bucking me into the air, only to land back hard on Li's newl-cum-moistened steel pole. Over and over. Pumping more and more seed inside. And then he collapsed back onto the bed, taking me on top. I was dripping that familiar white creamy substance from around the sides of his impalement. And our chests were glued with my seed. Perhaps the most violent coupling either of us had ever before experienced. I was incredibly content. My God, this powerhouse is going to be in my house and in my bed—all the time.

I was content to rest on top, held in place by Li's long arms—and of course by his still hard dick, plugging his seed inside. Just to add a little icing, I raised my head rose and my lips clamped down on Li's sensitive nipples. I swirled my tongue around them; then I sucked and bit. Li levitated from the bed and his cock hardened inside. I was in for a double header. No not a double header, I was in for two minutes of overtime and another three-pointer! Li didn't disappoint. I was soon riding a big black stallion, moving at a gallup to stud. The blasts were shorter, but harder, until I finally dropped back onto Li's chest. He was still semi-hard and deep inside! Both of us were completely spent and dozed for some time--until the phone rang.

"Don't pick it up. This is way too important."

"But it might be Bill with news we should have."

It wasn't. It was Pete. "I hear you're having breakfast with us tomorrow with some big announcement. I guess you guys have found something to enjoy here in Boston. I wanted to give you guys some important news. I heard today that the Boston firm that has offered me a position is merging with RansonWalker—and there is another New York firm involved as well. They're going to create one of the largest firms in the Northeast. Li and I might end up as associates in the same firm after all."

"Very interesting. We hadn't heard the rumors."

"It's not a rumor. The Legal Times is carrying the story tomorrow. A friend from Lodge and Perkins sent me an advance copy today. He didn't want me to be surprised that my new firm was merging out from under me. My offer from them stands. I'm told it's going to be DeweyRansomLodge. I can hear the jokes already. 'DeweyRansomLodge? No don't. Lodge is not worth what they're asking.'"

"Thanks, Pete. See you tomorrow." We answered together.

"OMG. Bro, are you guys in bed? It's only 9 o'clock. It's been five months. Don't you ever eat or watch sports on TV? You've both got it bad."

"Bye, bro. See you tomorrow."

The next morning, we slept in. We had already decided we were not going to appear at St. Columbine, the O'Malley parish church, for Mass. If we arrived together, there was a definite possibility that someone would have heard, and it could cause a scene. Although the pastor of St. Columbine was active in including the LGTBQ+ community, the official RC position was different, and there were many very conservative parishioners who were upset that their parish was becoming a magnet for "sinners"—as if we all aren't sinners.

I wanted to have a quiet discussion with my folks before facing the gauntlet of public opinion. We dressed "Sunday- sharp"—slacks, buttoned shirts, and the new dressy-casual shoes, with quarter-zip pullover sweaters, since the temperatures were definitely dropping as the New England winter approached. Li pulled some Celtics memorabilia from his stash and dropped it in a bag with a bottle of Pinot Noir from Willamette. Li drove. Traffic was light, and they arrived shortly after the O'Malley's returned from Mass.

Pete was already there with his girlfriend who was becoming a fixture in the home. In addition to Pete, there were three sisters: two older, both married with a boy and a girl each, and one younger sister, still in college—at Boston College. The oldest grandchild was about 10—so he probably knew who Li was. Certainly my sibs did. This was absolutely a Celtics family. Mary Margaret O'Malley greeted us at the door, hugged me hard, and none-too-discretely, gave Li the complete Mom's up-down eyeball treatment. Then she smiled and held out her hand in invitation. "Please come in. Everybody calls me MM. Jack is losing his tie and will join us momentarily." Then, the rest pounced. Even the young ones had been told by Pete before we arrived that a celebrity was joining them for brunch. Best manners were demanded. Each came forward separately, introduced him or herself and extended a hand in welcome. Within a minute, Li had met the entire O'Malley clan which was moving on to insult and admonish me for staying away for so long.

Jack joined at last with a huge smile. Li smiled back and handed over the bottle—and the Celtics mug. "Welcome, Li—may I call you Li?—to our home. We are honored to have you with us. And I can't tell you how pleased we are that you and Evan have met."

I overheard one of my sisters whispering to another, "He never gave my husband a welcome like that. He was grilling him about his prospects before he even knew his name."

Brunch was served immediately, family-style, at a giant old oak table that could probably hold 20. MM (as she was affectionately known within the family) said grace, pointedly asking for the inclusion of those who might be different from ourselves. Conversation was light: criticism of old Fr. O'Halloran's text book sermon; the projected ice storm for later that night; the sorry state of the Celtics team this year; rumors that the Pat's quarterback was again threatening to leave unless given even more than the fortune "we" are already paying him; and the sorry state of the national Republican party "which was moving ever downward into a spiral of know-nothing conspiracy and negativity". Within twenty minutes, Li knew our politics, our brand of Catholicism, our sports loyalties—and our love for one another.

Mom is a substitute teacher, working almost full time these days with the shortages. She spends many evenings on PFLAG business. Dad is a Special Investigator, currently assigned to a special crimes unit of the Boston PD. He had a night time law degree, but had never taken the Bar or practiced. He's Co-chair of the local Democratic Committee. S really demanding job in Boston, which occupied most of his evenings.

I noticed that Sioban, Mary Ellen's oldest and the oldest grandchild, kept staring at Li, then back at me throughout the meal. I knew he was capable of anything and had a feeling some particularly embarrassing question was coming soon. I only hoped that it could wait until after the meal. I wasn't exactly sure how precocious my nephew might be. And I wasn't sure how capable I would be in answering such questions in mixed, family company.

Li was asked to talk about his parents. He explained that his father, once a Capitol guard and after night school in law enforcement, was now in the Secret Service, assigned to the White House. His mother, a former nurse, was now Deputy Administrator of the pediatric wing of a DC hospital. Then he talked about the "situation" that had taken him from the Celtics—which he did briefly and with good humor. He pronounced himself in remission, now for three years. Two more to go before he was considered in the clear. But he felt great—and it was obvious to everyone that he was a magnificent specimen of good health. It was clear that everyone was tip-toeing around the potential relationship between Li and me.

I finally broke the subject. I told the story (non x-rated version) of our meeting in Washington when Pete was working there. I said that Li and I had become friends, really best friends over almost five months—and that I was going to be moving in with Li in a few weeks. It was unspoken, but understood, that we were boyfriends, perhaps headed for the long term.

It didn't seem to bother anyone. In fact, the senior O'Malley's seemed to be very pleased that I had found someone—and certainly someone with a celebrity pedigree.

Sioban broke the formality—for it really wasn't tension. "How do you kiss him, Uncle Evan? Do you have to stand on a box? He's a head taller than you are? He's a giant. What's it like to make out with someone so big?"

"Have you noticed that your Dad is about a head taller than your mother? Believe me, it can work. He bends down or I reach up and pull him down." Looking over at Li, I added, "And he's as good at making out as he was a forward." Everyone burst into nervous laughter. They all understood the social obstacles of relationships between gay men—let alone different race men, and men from very different backgrounds and religions. I am sure there were a few unspoken visuals about Li and me in bed—the seeming impossibility of it. But, no one was going to spoil the atmosphere with comments like that.

And immediately Sioban changed the subject. "I'm gonna ask Dad if we can find some of your games so I can see you play. May I have one of your jerseys? Wait until the guys hear that I had lunch with a Celtics star." His mother immediately focused an evil eye on his boldness as he realized his mistake.

"If you're good, Santa might bring one for Christmas. I'll be sure he has a supply. Later we can take a selfie if that will help your story." Sioban's smile lit up the room. It was clear that they were bonding already—as Li had bonded so easily with the young boys at the Y. He was a natural with kids. As big as he was, and as dark as he was to the lighter skinned boys, he was gentle. His voice automatically modulated almost to a quiet whisper, his potentially threatening motions slowed, and he almost literally seemed to shrink. Until of course, he was on the court. Then his aggressive, giant persona recovered. He was like two guys: a soft, great father figure and a tough, aggressive opponent. Any boy would revel with a father like that.

The afternoon ended soon. I apologized to Mom and Dad for springing this on them so suddenly, but explained that there might be press within a few days—and I wanted them to know in advance. "Mom, I think I'm in love. And he's a really good guy. When you get to know him better, you will too."

"We love you Evan—and we trust your judgment. Let us know if we can do anything to make this situation easier on the two of you. Neither of you, no one, deserves what the press will try to do to you in the next few days to sell a few rags."

Li of course overheard it all. He was going to like this family.

Li accepted our sweaters from one of my sisters, and turned to MM, "It has been a pleasure. Great brunch. Thank you for making Evan who he is. I'm a really lucky guy. I promise to treat him well."

"We look forward to seeing you on Thanksgiving."

TBC BD