This is a work of fiction. All names and characters are fictitious. The narrator is a 46 y/o female, we will call Allie. She is divorced, lives alone, has a grown daughter, son-in-law, and year old grandson.
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"You're joking," I said.
"Hear me out. He likes you, trusts you. Maybe he'll tell you what's wrong." The desperation in my long-time friend's voice was apparent.
"There's nothing wrong. Danny's just a late-bloomer! Hell, the kid's only eighteen!"
"That's what I had convinced myself, too. But, eighteen? Fine at fifteen and sixteen, but he graduates High School in three months. He's never had a girl friend, not even one date!" she shrieked.
"Look, Valerie, he's a typical teen, more concerned with playing sports than chasing girls. And even if he's gay, so what?"
Val calmed herself as she told me for the fourth time, "He's not gay, but if he is, I don't care. He's my son and a good kid. I just worry that he's confused. And maybe a little... guidance, is all he needs."
She poured us both more coffee. We have been best friends for fifteen years, since she moved in across the street, with her ex and young Danny. My ex and our daughter, Patti were still home then, and Val and I grew closer with each of our crises.
"You've checked his room?" I asked.
She nodded. "No signs of any porn. His sheets are always clean, but he does the laundry when I'm working. None of the typical masturbation signs."
"So you want me, of all people to talk to him."
"Exactly. He trusts you. His Dad's never around. He would shut me out. Counsellors think I'm over-reacting."
"So do I," I interjected.
"Okay, maybe I am. But you're the only one I can ask. And you seem to know younger men."
"I don't know them, I happened to have a brief fling with someone while on vacation, that's all, I told you that."
She nodded again. "More than twenty years younger, you said. And you liked it."
Of course I did, I thought. He was cute, horny and hard. "So, you want me to bed your son," I said, abruptly.
"I wish you wouldn't put it like that. Just talk to him, feel him out about girls, and if he needs guidance, well..."
"Your argument about many cultures using adults to train younger members is valid, but this is USA, 2011. Danny's not a tribal boy. And who's to say he'd be interested if he did want to learn?"
"Allie, come on. You date many men, you love flirting, playing the game. And anyway, even if he says to you that he's gay, at least we'll know."
I spent the rest of the week thinking about it. Danny's a good kid. Val meant well. But what would happen if something did happen? Val says fine, now. But, after the fact, in the light of day, how would she feel?
On Friday, after I saw Danny leave, I went for coffee.
"Okay, I'll do it," I announced as she poured for us. "But, just talk. If he needs lessons, call a Call Girl or something. I want no part of that."
"Oh, Allie, thank you, thank you so much! This is perfect! I have to go see my Mom, she's got those back spasms again. So, maybe you can have Danny over, or you come over here. Is that okay?"
"Might as well get it over with."
On Saturday evening, there was a knock on the door. "Coming!" I hollered, as I looked myself in the mirror.
Forty-six. Not ancient, but far from the Prom Queen. My chest and waist were larger, and I was at least 20 pounds heavier, but with my red hair colored with blond hi-lights, eyes made up just right, and muted lighting, I wasn't half-bad. my black satin blouse had two buttons undone, to draw eyes away from my widening hips. My bikini days were over, for sure.
At the door stood Danny, all six feet of him, slim, maybe 170, with shaggy brown hair, and those big sad hazel eyes.
"Hi, Danny! Come on in, hope I didn't make you wait too long..."
He gave me a broad smile. "Hi, Allie, thanks for having me. Mom was worried I wouldn't eat, but when she said you were barbecuing, I said great!"
He bent to give me the usual hug and peck on the cheek, and seemed to inhale my cologne, which was unusual.
"How about a beer? Your mom said as long as you go straight home, it was okay."
"Sure! Great!"
Out on my back deck, I had the grill going and steaks marinating. I pointed to the cooler and he got himself one and refilled my wine.
We spoke in generalities, about family, friends, my job in Real Estate, as we cooked and ate, spending two hours on the deck, until it got cool. I suggested we go into my den, and we freshened our drinks and sat on the couch.
"So, Danny, how's school? Must be busy fighting those girls off, huh?"
He smiled and blushed, looking down. "No, not really."
"Oh, come on! You're a good- looking kid, big, strong, good at sports, and smart. Every girl's dream!"
"I wish."
I hesitated, giving him a minute to change the subject, but he didn't.
"Dan, I don't mean to pry, but, if you want to talk about it..." He looked up at me, intensely. I didn't know if he was angry or surprised. "Or, not! I was only wondering, and I've known you forever. If I was prying, forgive me." I touched his shoulder and he stared at my hand.
"No, it's okay. I know Mom's going Nutso about this, too, just cause I don't bring girls home. it's just, most girls are so wrapped up in themselves. Like the boy doesn't matter, it's only what we can do for them."
"Yes, many young people are like that, grownups, too, unfortunately. You just have to find someone who's right for you."
He gulped his beer. "Yeah, I guess...but now every body's so hooked up, you know? I don't know how to start, what to say or do. Like I lost all those years, when I should have been learning, like I'm 13 in a eighteen year old body. And the other thing..."
"What, honey?"
"Nothing, never mind."
"Danny," turning to face him, noticing how he watched my shorts slide as I did. "You started to say something. Might as well finish it."
He looked deep into my eyes and I saw such sadness, my heart ached. "One girl I thought liked me... on a dare, she took my home with her. we started, you know... and she started screaming! I hadn't even touched her, I swear! I just left, and the next day, all the kids were whispering about me."
"Danny, exactly when did she start screaming, and what did she say?"
He was looking down again. "They were right, oh my god, they were right."
"Right? About what?"
"My...oh, Allie, I can't say it to you!"
"Your cock? Dick? Penis?"
He nodded. "I'm deformed."
This poor kid needs a professional! What did I get myself into??? "Danny, did you go to a doctor? No? Did you tell your Mom? She should really know. honey. Maybe they can correct it."
He shook his head. "I only told you because i thought you could keep a secret, and Mom seems to think you've seen a lot of them anyway over the years."
"A lot of cocks? She told you that?"
"No, she just says you date a lot of men."
I sat thinking, drinking my wine.
"I'm sorry, Allie, I'll get going now. I didn't plan to tell you, but you seemed so nice and helpful."
"Danny, what is the deformity?"
He shrugged.
"Well, does it look like other guys penises in school showers?"