Dj

It was a large pizza we had picked up, I was full after three of the eight slices, and DJ claimed also to be full, after three, so the other 2 got stored into the fridge, to be a snack for someone.

"DJ," I said, "You do realize, I hope, that this kind of fast food isn't nutritionally good for either of us. We'll do better tomorrow though, because YOU'RE going to cook us a pot roast in the crock pot, and we'll have a good dinner when we get home from work."

DJ, with eyes opened wide, "Whad'ya mean, I'M cooking dinner? I wouldn't even know where to begin! I could burn water."

"I'll guide you, sweetie," I said, smiling, "but you are going to do all of the work. We probably need to get to bed soon, as we need to get up earlier than normal to try and get your learners permit. I'm surprised you didn't take driver's training in school."

"I wanted to, but Mama wouldn't sign the permission slip. She said I didn't need to learn driving." I shook my head in disbelief.

We went to bed about 11:00 PM and fell asleep shortly after, with our naked bodies close to each other. We may not be lovers, per se, however we both seem to enjoy being physically close. Even if I don't make an attempt to draw DJ close to me, or wrap my arms around him, he still snuggles up with his body touching me. God, how I love this young man!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

About 6:45 AM on Thursday morning, DJ slipped out of bed, needing to pee, then returned to stand on my side of the bed, his flaccid penis dangling about 12" in front of my face. What a pleasant sight to wake up to!

"Doug," DJ commented, "I would be happy to make our coffee, but I don't know how. Would you like to show me?"

"Sure, DJ," I responded, "As soon as I drain myself. Meet me in the kitchen in about 4 minutes."

"Doug, I already changed the filter," DJ said," and I know we have to grind the coffee beans, but I don't know how many."

"Three scoops of coffee will make us 4 mugs, and about 6 cups of water, and use the water from the Berkey filter. I don't like to drink the tap water. Running it through the Berkey removes the fluoride and the taste of the chlorine, plus most other contaminants and heavy metals that are not healthy for us."

"Wow, Doug, I always just thought water was just water. I think I put the wrong water in the pitcher that's in the fridge last night."

"If you did, just pitch it, and fill it from the Berkey. It's no big deal, DJ."

By the time DJ dumped the water from the pitcher and refilled it, the coffee was done. He grabbed the creamer from the fridge, and poured us each a mug of coffee. The day we met, he said he normally doesn't drink coffee, but he seems to have acquired a taste for it, as he drinks it on a daily basis with me every morning now. He still loaded it with about 4 heaping teaspoons of sugar.

"DJ, you really need to start cutting back on the sugar," I said, "we don't want you to become diabetic, besides, you're sweet enough already!" DJ grinned, and blushed just a little.

We had both finished our first cups, and DJ poured our refills.

"Would you like to fix our breakfast?" I asked.

"Bacon and eggs?" DJ questioned. I nodded.

"Better put on an apron," I suggested, " don't want to spatter grease on that pretty cock, or your tummy."

DJ put the large frying pan on the stovetop and put on the apron that always hangs on the hook. He then got the bacon and eggs out of the fridge and set them on the counter, and turned the heat on high. He looked cute, his buns protruding out of the back of the apron.

"I think you need to cut that heat back to medium." DJ complied.

He then placed half a dozen slices of bacon on the bottom of the pan, and covered them with the lid. He then placed 4 slices of bread in the toaster, not yet pushing the lever down. Checking on the bacon, he used a spatula to turn the bacon over, just like I would have done.

Finally, he used the spatula to lift the slices of bacon out of the pan, placing them on a paper towel to drain.

DJ, picking an egg out of the carton, "I don't know about this!"

I stepped behind DJ, my cock tickling his ass, I reached around him, took the egg from his hand and cracked it on the edge of the pan and used both hands to separate the halves of the shell, dropping the contents into the bacon fat. I then followed suit with the second egg.

"Just like that," I said, "Now you do the other two."

While DJ struggled a little with the other two eggs, I pushed the levers down on the toaster. He did get them both out of the shell and into the pan, breaking one yolk in the process. When the eggs were cooked, he lifted them out of the pan, placing 2 on each plate, along with 3 slices of bacon. I buttered the toast and added them to the two plates. We sat down to eat.

"There," I said, "that wasn't so hard was it?"

"I guess not, but I fucked one egg up."

"So, that happens to me sometimes too, and I've probably fried well over a thousand eggs. The more times you cook them, the better you will get. Practice makes better, probably never perfect though, when it comes to cracking eggs!"

We ate breakfast and finished our coffee, then went to the bedroom to get dressed.

"Damn!" DJ exclaimed. "I hate having to put clothes on, I wish we could just stay naked. I love the feeling of freedom when I'm naked."

"So," I commented, smiling, "you're a wannabe nudist?"

"I guess," DJ replied, his face turning pink.

"If you've got your Social Security Card and Birth Certificate, I think we're ready to go."

DJ led the way out of the back door and I locked it behind us. We got into the car and headed to the MVD. When we arrived, I accompanied DJ inside, in case there were any questions he needed assistance with. He informed the lady at the information desk that he wished to apply for a learning permit.

"OK," the lady said, giving him a clipboard and pen, "you need to fill out this form, and when they call your number, return it to the proper window."

The whole procedure took about an hour, and it was about 10:30 AM when we walked out, DJ was wearing a smile and holding on to his permit and a study guide.

We took off, and I drove us to a large parking lot that had been used by a store that was now vacant. I parked the car and turned it off, pulling out the key from the ignition.

"Let's change seats," I said, getting out of the car.

DJ got into the driver's seat and I got into the passenger side, and handed the key to DJ.

"Let's just drive around here for a few minutes so you can get used to handling the car, and practice a few starts and stops."

DJ was pretty nervous at first but gained confidence and competence with each minute he spent behind the wheel. So much so, that I decided to let him drive us home, and we arrived there safely. We entered the back (kitchen) door.

Once inside the kitchen, I said, "DJ, time for you to start dinner."

"OK Doug, but you have to tell me what to do."

With my guidance, DJ placed the slow cooker on the counter, then he unwrapped the chuck roast and placed it in the center of the pot, and placed four bay leaves on the top of the roast for flavor. He then peeled a couple of onions, scrubbed some organic potatoes and carrots, and placed the vegetables around the roast, then added a cup of organic beef broth. Then he finally secured the lid, and turned the control to medium to start the cooking.

"That's it?" DJ questioned, "Seems like a lot of food for 2 people."

"Except for the gravy," I answered, "but we can't make that until just before we eat tonight. That is a four pound roast, we should have leftover roast to make another meal and some sandwiches. Good job, DJ!"

DJ smiled, and I had to pull him in to me and give him a warm hug, then I kissed him on the cheek.

"Doug, I think I need a shower before we go to work, would you like to join me?"

He didn't have to beg me. We went to the bedroom, stripped and headed into the bath. I adjusted the temperature, and we both stepped into the shower stream. DJ soaped up a washcloth, and started to wash my body, then suddenly started to choke up.

"What's the matter, DJ?" I asked.

"Nothing, really," DJ sobbed, "I'm just—so incredibly happy, living here with you."

"No happier than I am to share my life with you!" I stated.

As I washed his body, and soaped up his private areas, he sprung a boner.

"Doug, do you think we have enough time for, you know how I like the feeling of my dick in your mouth."

I turned DJ a little to get the shower stream to rinse the soap from his beautiful black member, dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth. Even though I feel he needs someone younger, I am unable to resist getting him off when he wants it. I really love his cock, and the sweet taste of his sperm. I can't help it, I just love DJ and everything about him.

As I was sliding my mouth back and forth on DJ's cock, he started to rock his pelvis, gripping the back of my head, and fucking my mouth. His moaning and groaning told me he was enjoying the feeling, and starting to feel his climax mounting.

"Doug," he cried, "that just feels so—awesome, I almost ready, I'm so close!"

DJ pulled my head close, and stopped all motion, just letting his cock rest in my mouth, the head of his cock nearly in my throat. Then, with no motion from either of us, he started to pulse. I felt the first shot hit my throat, and pushed him back.

"OOOOooooohhhhhhhh!" DJ released the sound, as he released an enormous load onto my tongue. I rolled his ejaculate around in my mouth, loving the taste of his sweet cream.

"What does it taste like?" DJ asked.

I swallowed, so I could speak, "You've never tasted your cum?" DJ shook his head.

"I've sucked quite a few cocks in my life, but have never tasted cream as sweet as yours, DJ. Hold that thought."

I squeezed the last dribbles of his cum out of his cock and onto the back of my hand. Then I held it up to his mouth and told him to lick it off.

Tasting a little of his own cum, DJ said, "It doesn't taste nearly as bad as I thought it would. All cum doesn't taste the same?"

"I think," I answered, "It partly depends on what a guy eats or drinks. I don't like the taste of cum from a man who drinks a lot of beer, and I read someplace that if a guy eats pineapple, his cum tastes like pineapple."

DJ and I stepped out of the tub/shower and got dried, then slipped into the bedroom to get dressed for work.

"Am I driving us to work?" DJ asked.

"Not today," I answered. "I want you to study that guide first. It gives you information and techniques, and also things you will need to know, in order to pass the written test to get your license. You will need to pass the written test, before they will give you a road test." DJ nodded understandingly.

"Wow!" DJ exclaimed, as we entered the kitchen. The aroma of the beef roast permeated the air. "I'm hungry already. Are you sure it won't burn?"

"The smell of good food cooking does have that effect, doesn't it?" I replied, "No it won't burn. I think we have time to stop at Chick Fillet and grab some lunch on our way to work, if that is good with you."

"Sure as heck beats a peanut butter sandwich!" DJ responded with a smile.

We left the house, and stopped at Chick Fillet. DJ got a chicken sandwich and waffle fries, and I had chicken nuggets and waffle fries. We arrived at the drug store about 2:50 PM. Cynthia continued to train DJ on the checkout and I made my deliveries. We both clocked out at 9:00 PM and headed home.

"How do you like working at the drugstore?" I asked, while we traveled.

"I like it, a lot. Cynthia is a good teacher, she is mostly just watching over me, and helping me when I need help. She makes me do most of the work."

"DJ, do you like chili?"

"Sometimes, which brand do you buy?"

"Buy?" I answered, "We don't buy chili, we make it, from scratch. If you like chili, I'm thinking we could make some tomorrow, and maybe some corn muffins to go with it."

"It sounds good, I've never had homemade chili, just Wal-Mart's canned kind. I'll bet your chili is good, like everything you cook. What's with this 'WE' bit?"

"I'm not going to just cook for you, DJ, I'm going to teach you how to cook for us. That way we can both eat well, and we can cook for each other."

I pulled the car under the carport, DJ got out and used his key to open the kitchen door, and stepped inside.

"Woo-Hoo!" DJ hollered, "It sure smells good in here!"

DJ was right. The tantalizing aroma hit me through the open back door before I even got inside the house.

I instructed DJ how to prepare some cornstarch and water for thickening the gravy. Then, he lifted the veggies out with a pair of tongs, and placed them in a bowl. Then he lifted the roast out, and placed in on a platter. It was so tender, it fell apart into 3 pieces.

With my guidance, DJ poured the juices from the crock-pot into a saucepan, and turned the heat on underneath. He added about a tablespoon of organic beef flavored Better-than-bouillon, and when it came to a boil, added the thickening and made the gravy.

A familiar knock sounded at the back door, and I hollered 'come on in' and Officer Joe let himself inside, dressed in his police uniform.

"I can't stay long," Joe said, "I'm on duty till midnight. I just wanted to check up on DJ." Then, giving DJ a hug, "How's it going DJ?"

"Couldn't be much better!" DJ answered, smiling. "I got my learners permit today." Joe smiled.

"Joe," I said, "Dinner's ready, can't you take a meal break? We have plenty of food, and DJ prepared the whole meal."

While Joe was on the radio with his Captain, I pulled the table out, making room for another chair, and set a third place setting on the table. His boss said he could take a half an hour off duty, unless there was an emergency.

We dug in. Joe and I both commented as to how delicious the food was, and after each comment DJ beamed. We weren't just saying it, the food was very tasty. I know it built some confidence in DJ's mind. When we finished eating, Joe asked if he could talk to me, privately, and we went outside to the back yard, while DJ started to clean up.

"Doug," Joe said, "is DJ still working mornings?"

"Most of the time, Justin is scheduling us for the same times. I think he thinks he's doing us a favor, and really he is. DJ can ride to work with me, and has a way home"

"Yeah, Doug, I see that," Joe said, frowning a bit, "but that also makes it difficult for you and me to get some time together. I don't want to force DJ out of your bed, just so we can have some fun."

"Actually, Joe," I responded, "DJ and I have already discussed this a little. I've prepped him some, that he needs to have his own room and bed. Then, if either of us wants to have an overnight guest, we can, comfortably. Give us a few days, and I think DJ will have his own bedroom. At least those are my plans."

"Do you think DJ is really gay?" Joe asked.

"I think so. Last night we stopped and got a pizza and this really attractive young man waited on us. After we left the pizza joint, DJ mentioned that the kid was hot. What do you think?" Joe nodded in agreement.

Joe, grinning, "Doug, this house could become a gay hot spot! I would hope, once DJ has his own room, we could spend some nights together. I want to try to get a fire started again. I think you're hot, and you know I'm hot for you!" Then, "I gotta go, I think I've already exceeded my half hour."

Joe quickly kissed me, and headed for his patrol car. I would think, that if Joe and I reunite, we could both thank DJ for bringing us together again. I went back into the kitchen and helped DJ find containers to put the leftovers in, and put them in the fridge.

I sat at the table, watching DJ finish up the dishes and he spoke.

"You really like Joe, don't you?"

"Yes, DJ, I do, actually I love him. We had a good thing going, about 20 years ago. I don't know what happened. We didn't have a fight and neither of us cheated, but somehow we just drifted apart. Joe and I have never lived together, maybe if we had, it wouldn't have ended. Who knows."

"So, if you guys get back together, and he moves in, I guess you will want me to move on out of here."

"DJ! That will never happen!" I cried. "Yes, I love Joe, and I love you too, but they are two different kinds of love. I love Joe like a husband, and I love you like the son I never had." Tears are sliding down my face. "DJ, you have a piece of my heart that no one else can ever have. Joe may come in and take half of my bed, but he can never have that part of my heart that you hold."

I stepped over to DJ and wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly to me. I kissed his forehead and his cheek.

"DJ, I'm going to give you something to consider. I've thought about this for a while. If you would like, I would consider adopting you, legally. That would make you my legal son and me your legal father. If we did this, your last name would change from Jackson to Kendall. Just think it over."

"That's wild, Doug!" DJ responded, choking up. "I can't believe you care enough—to want to go through all that. It wouldn't be hard—to start calling you Dad—instead of Doug. I often think of you as a father anyway. Actually, if you don't mind, I'd love to call you 'Dad' even without the adoption."

"I don't mind at all, Son!" I replied, and DJ smiled. "I've often thought, that if I had a son, how great it would be to have a son just like you!"

DJ, smiling with tears streaming, "Thanks, Dad. I love you! But I can't really tell anyone that I sleep with my father." DJ grinned.

We went to bed shortly afterwards, and I wrapped my arm around DJ. I've spent so many years sleeping alone, it's like heaven to feel DJ's body so close to mine. I'm so thankful that fate has brought us together.

"Dad," DJ spoke softly, "I'm still not really used to the strange feeling of being loved and wanted, and it makes me high. I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Son, more than you will ever know." We drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Friday morning I woke up ahead of DJ, made a trip to the bathroom, and went to the kitchen and started the coffee. Before it was even finished brewing, as I was standing at the counter, I didn't see DJ approach me from behind. Suddenly I felt arms around my neck and his flaccid cock tickling my ass.

"Good morning, Dad." DJ spoke, and kissed me on the cheek."

"Good morning, Son," I responded, smiling, "I am going to need assistance with something this morning. I think my old mattress and box springs need to be replaced. I want you to help me to select some new ones."

"Why me?" DJ questioned, "It's your bed."

"But you sleep in it too. I want comfort for both of us, so we need to both agree on them."

As DJ sipped on his first cup of coffee, I took a couple of the potatoes left from last night's dinner, and diced them, preparing to make some home fries.

"You do like home fries, don't you, son?" I queried, while donning the apron.

"I guess. I've never had them, but I like potatoes."

Using some of the bacon grease from yesterday's bacon I proceeded to fry the potatoes, sprinkling on some onion and garlic powder. Then I added some salt and pepper and paprika. I put some butter in the large frying pan, and prepared to fry some eggs, and DJ instinctively put four slices of bread in the toaster.

When the eggs were cooked, I placed the eggs on two plates, and split the potatoes between the plates. DJ buttered the toast, and we sat down to breakfast.

"Wow!" DJ exclaimed, "These potatoes are tasteeeeeeee! Dad, where did you learn to cook so good?"

"My mom was a really good cook, and I learned much from her when I was growing up. I also worked as a short order cook in a truck stop when I was young. This is how we did home fries, except we used soybean oil* instead of bacon fat. The truck drivers loved them."