It had been a little over three months since my father and I left the hospital with Jay and Becca. Living with Jayden Lorri in his New York estate had been a blessing, a miracle. Although he owed us nothing, Jay wanted to devote his wealth, his life, to give my father and me a chance at happiness. I enrolled in online classes, working towards my GED. I wanted to go to college, to get a job in the medical field. I wanted to make Jay proud. As for my dad: life was not as sunny. He had lost some weight, as well as a significant amount of strength. But with Jay's love and support, I remained hopeful.
We remained living in the spacious basement while Jay lived and worked out of the upper levels of the house. I had no idea what he actually did beyond taking meetings and working out. Jay would always come down to visit, sharing plenty of alcohol and illegal drugs. For the first few weeks, I kind of assumed he was retired.
Relaxing in our living space, that was how I learned about all the jobs he was turning down. Jay, apparently, didn't need to work. And as he said in his own words, Jay did not have any desire to leave us for an extended period of time.
"You're my family, my world," Jay said as he took a long drag off an expensive marijuana joint (special ordered from Dubai.) In a gesture of true joy, he blew a ring of smoke. "I've never been so happy." Jay turned his head and kissed my father on the lips. "Tastes great, right? Come on, Marcus, have a taste."
I expected him to hand me the joint, but instead, he pulled me onto his lap. I could feel his throbbing cock, begging for release. (But I already knew it wasn't for me.) I took a long drag before attempting to hand back the drugs. "Thank you."
I always knew when Jay spent the night in my dad's room. The two men were loud and the entire basement floor smelled like marijuana and lube. Starting in the shared living space, they would smoke, take pills, and fondle each other as they undressed. Once they made it to my dad's room, the two could easily fuck for hours.
I did my best to give them privacy, slipping away to my own room under the guise of studying (and trying to contact Becca who had the habit of leaving for days at a time.) I was desperately lonely, so in my boredom, I found a way to cut a hole in the wall, giving me a view of my dad's bed. Resting comfortably with my back against a wall, I armed myself with tissues and lube, awaiting the start of the show.
Jay had a special set of toys he brought from his collection; clamps, plugs, collars, and chains. The vibrator was my favorite. Jay would take his time, guiding the long black leather massage toy down my daddy's chest to his tight stomach teasing his hips. The vibrations were loud, I imagine it hurt like a bitch.
My father always whimpered when the tool grazed his cock. The noise he made was a cross between a gasp and a prayer. And it was so fucking hot.
Jay's breathing was intense. "Do you like that, Val?"
My father nodded, panting like a dog in heat.
"You want more?" Jay's voice was like honey; thick and sweet. In my mind he was tracing the inside of my ear with his tongue, ending with a tender bite to my earlobe.
I rubbed my tip, coaxing out precum. For a moment I thought about the internet stories of guys sticking things inside their urethra. It seemed excessive, but I needed something more. "Oh, fuck me." At that moment, I wished I owned a vibrator, but my fingers would have to do. I was masturbating hard, focusing my thumb on my tip. There was so much precum, I felt like I was pissing myself.
I glanced through my hole in the wall. Jay was reaching for something out of view.
"I need you to breathe," Jay said, his Irish accent was coming through. "Just focus on your breath." Jay applied a generous amount of lube to his hands. He reached for my father's amputated leg, massaging the scar tissue. "You're so fucking beautiful. So strong." I could hear Jay pumping his shaft, moaning softly, preparing his own cock for what was to come. "I want to see how much you can take."
I repositioned myself for a better view. Jay started to play with my father's ass; fucking him with two lubed fingers, then three. soon he went all in. He was fisting my father with one hand while gripping the man's neck with the other.
"Oh fuck, yeah." It was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. I wanted so badly to be choked by Jay. His hands were big, strong, powerful. Unfortunately, I did not prepare a way to limit my airway while engaging in self-pleasure. I would have to use my imagination to live vicariously through my crippled naked father.
My daddy's cock was hard, pressed against his tight, slender stomach. He was reaching for himself, but his grip seem to falter. His hands were too weak to gain traction, leaving him to Jay's mercy.
Jay still had his hand inside of my daddy's ass, opening him like a sick sexual puppet. "Do you want it inside you?"
"Yes," my father said in a whisper.
Jay smiled, pressing his tongue into his cheek. "Say it louder."
The tone of his voice made me ejaculate all over myself. It was like a ripple of pure power, something meant only for a select few to experience. 'Yes, please.'
Jay was massaging my daddy's prostate, his fist practically visible through my father's stomach muscles. It was difficult for my father to speak over the gasps of intense desire. "I want it inside me."
Jay slowly removed his fist. There was a slurping sound as the lube covered fingers moved lower, gripping my daddy's balls with a tight, tender squeeze. "Do you want the toy or my cock?"
"I want you to tear me up inside." My father arched his neck, his mouth agape. "I want to die in your arms."
I couldn't tell what was chosen, but when he put it inside my daddy's ass, my cock erupted all over again. Exhausted and (mostly) satisfied, I reclined on the floor rubbing my own cum on my skin. My nipples were hard, sensitive. There were tears in my eyes: I needed to be fucked. They'd probably let me watch if I asked. Not like I had anything (or anyone) else to do.
I reached for my phone, checking my email. Turns out Becca was in Orlando with some friends. 'Having a blast in Epcot. I'll bring you back a plushie.' Becca came and went as she pleased, leaving for weeks at a time. For whatever reason, she still considered herself to be my girlfriend even talking about getting married. (I assumed she meant that as a joke.)
The next day, over a breakfast of coffee and cigarettes Jay announced he was leaving for a month-long job in Curacao. "I wouldn't go if I could help it, but this was at the request of an old friend."
"Curacao?" The island was in the correct hemisphere, but it was still abnormally far.
"Did you already tell my dad?"
"Yes," he said while choking down his coffee. "He's supportive."
He was lying. My father likely gave his blessing, because what the fuck else was he going to do? "That's fine," I replied through gritted teeth. "I can watch him for a while."
"While I am sure you are more than capable, I have made arrangements with the hospital to send over a nurse."
"A nurse?" The idea that he just picked out a nurse without even asking me sent my mind into a mild rage.
"For physical therapy and such," Jay continued, unable to look me in the eyes.
"Sounds good." I didn't care for the idea, but the decision was not mine to make. Hopefully, I'd at least get a name I could do an internet search of.
"He'll arrive tomorrow morning."
I paused with a look of shock. "Does that mean you're leaving tomorrow?" No, that couldn't be true. 'Think logically, he probably just wants to meet the nurse and make sure this person is a good fit.'
Jay nodded silently; the sadness was visible in his dark expressive eyes. "You have to believe me; I wouldn't do this to you if it wasn't an emergency."
"Emergency, really?" More likely whoever asked him to hop a plane on short notice CLAIMED it was an emergency. Either way, the very next day a male nurse arrived (he was only introduced to my father, but I had his emergency contact info) and Jay took a limo to the airport.
I sat at the kitchen table flipping through the packet of forms. The nurse, Michael, was a man in his late forties with several degrees in respiratory, neurology, and physical therapy. He was scheduled to come by the house for eight hours a day until Jay's return date (which was not listed.)
At first, everything was good. My father spent his days in the garden with his iPad. Sometimes he sketched using the stylus tool. His hand seemed to adapt well to the small plastic pen. (Especially after Jay found a way to attach it to the device's cover.) My father could create simple shapes, plants, animals, even moments in time. It was like a view into his soul. Other times I found him recording journal entries using some sort of built-in mic. I assumed he was also in contact with Jay.
This was why I originally didn't tell him my father suffered multiple sleep seizures (for every night Jay was gone.) During the day, the nurse gave him pain medication via an IV line. (Or at least that's what I assumed he was doing.) At night I stayed by his side. I could handle keeping him warm, comforted. Everything would be fine.
I was on my phone most of the day texting back and forth with Jay. (Admittedly, while I should have been studying.) On the set of 'Untitled Sheena Sakara project,' he was (allegedly) bored out of his mind. While Jay was good friends with several cast and crew, the actual work was limited and he was there more to act as a wingman when they went out as a group to various local bars.
