Coven Of Angels Ch 05

Ring, Ring.

"Hello?" I said with a sigh, even though no one had even picked up.

Ring, Ring.

"Mom?" This was my third try that day, but the definition of insanity is never giving up.

Ring, Ring- beep.

"Hello, you have reached the phone of Summer Hernanda, Founder and CEO of Chupa Cabra interior design, please leave your name and number at the tone, thank you."

Holy fuck I hated that name. One of her boyfriends suggested it as a joke, but she thought it sounded powerful. 'Yeah, a powerful monster.' Actually, I guess the name was a perfect fit. "Hi, Mom. It's Jeff, just wanted to make sure you were still alive. If you're not and this is being heard by a police detective, I'm her son and I can still be found in South Dakota at (insert phone number for Leo's landline. )"

It was nearly October. Nature was beginning to fade all around, in preparation for the coming snow. I knew from her social media posts that my mother was back home in Nevada (bragging about taking on new clients.) I sure as hell wasn't going to go look for her (like a good little catholic son.) She wasn't the one who needed me.

Richard had developed a painful cough, but despite his worsening condition, his spirit could not be tamed. Often, he would go on walks in the surrounding area, only to be found in the strangest places; the garden, the gas station, up a tree, etc.

I guess this was now a glorified vacation. I had put in a minimal amount of time at the clinic, hopefully, that would garner me a level of sympathy and perhaps a positive review for when I attempted to apply for a long-term residency program. I went back to bed, hoping to relax a little before anything crazy happened. I awoke to Leo standing over me.

"Jesus, Jeff," Leo said as he shook me. "I'm all for you being California sober, but Tomas requires your assistance."

"California sober?" I asked with a groan.

"If you are too high to remember what that means, you're not allowed to smoke any more of my weed."

"I know what it means." It was a state of abstaining from alcohol but not cigarettes and weed. "I'm not high I'm just tired." I stretched my back and stood up, reluctantly, knowing full well what he meant; another seizure. I expected to find my father in bed, shivering in pain. More often than not, Richard would awaken with a panic attack, crying out for people and places long gone. I would then need to coach him back to reality. "Tell Tomas I'll be right there."

"Ok, he'll meet you outside.

"Outside?" I got up and made my way to the main bedroom, but the bed was empty and Tomas was nowhere to be found. I looked out a nearby window, into the backyard.

"We're in the garden," Tomas shouted. He and Leo were glancing upward, towards the roof.

"I'll be out in a second," I shouted back, through the window. I took a moment to calm my nerves. It couldn't be that bad, right? I glanced at my father's things on the nearby nightstand. There was a tablet with headphones opened to a reading program. I was tempted to take it with me, but the last book he read was Fifty shades of Grey. I'd been kind of hoping for the Bible or some other source of life inspiration.

When I made my way outside, Tomas turned to me with a sigh. "During the early hours of the morning, Richard somehow made it to the roof and has been sleeping there ever since."

"What? Why? How? "From where I stood, I could see my father's nude body, sunbathing with his hands behind his head. Thankfully I could also see his chest moving, assuring me he was not deceased.

"When?" Tomas added with a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I asked, shoving him in the chest.

"Nothing, man." Tomas raised his hands, defending his joke. "I thought you were just listing all of the research words."

I pushed my thoughts to the backburner. The morning air was perfect sweater weather; not snowy, but not quite warm enough to be sunbathing on the terracotta tile roof. "So, how did he get up there?"

Leo appeared at my side, leaning his head on my shoulder. "Climbing the gutters on the left side. It's actually pretty fun." He motioned to the section of gutters and metal vines that looked like a decorative ladder.

"Let me guess, you need me to climb up there?"

Leo shrugged and turned to Tomas. "We figure he might want to talk to you."

Tomas nodded in agreement. "I've been shouting for the past hour. Sometimes he replies, but for the past few attempts he just waves his hand. Isn't that right, Richard?"

My father groaned and moved his arm as proof of life. "Piss off, Tomas."

Tomas ignored him. "We need to get Richard down for his own safety."

"Fine." I started to climb the side; hand over hand, it actually was pretty fun. "Just stay here in case I fall on my ass."

My request was met with laughter. 'Whatever.' The roof was at just enough of an angle to rest comfortably and watch the sky (without sliding off to my immediate death.)

That was probably why Richard looked so relaxed, staring off into space. "Hey, Jeff."

"Hey, Dad." I took a seat by his side. "Can I ask how you pulled this off?"

"How I got up here? I snuck out the window, same as when I wanted to climb the tree."

"That makes sense, but how does a blind man, with end-stage cancer sneak out of a window in the nude, climb to the roof of a single-story home?"

"Without anyone stopping me? Tomas is a heavy sleeper, given he's up all night trying to make sure I don't die in my sleep. While you and Leo are stoned off your asses." He laughed, leaning his head back as he flexed his shoulders. Then his expression froze.

"What's wrong?"

My father stretched his neck, taking in the warmth of the sun, the feeling of the wind. "What does the sky look like?"

"The sky?"

"It's been a while."

I would have torn out my own eyes if it would have allowed him to see again. That was the source of his panic, he was trapped in darkness with no hope of escape. "The sky, it's um...." the words choked in my throat. "Blue?"

"Take me someplace."

"In the sky?" I was too emotionally exhausted to think straight.

"We can travel through the clouds to someplace new, someplace with a beauty only a mother could love."

I was drawing a blank. "Where did you live when you lost your sight?" I immediately cringed. What kind of cruel, sadistic question was that?

My father didn't seem to notice. "The beaches of Vancouver, the cliffs of Wales."

"We need to get you down."

No," he said as he gripped my hand. "I like it here." He kissed my knuckles, down to my fingertips. "This was the way God meant for it to be; to live, and die under the sun wind and rain."

I seriously did not want to be on the roof if/when it started to rain. "I think you'll be more comfortable in bed."

My father sighed. "That's the dream, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I've watched soldiers die; good men and women bleeding out in the middle of a warzone. They all wanted to die in a warm bed surrounded by love."

His words broke my heart. "And why don't you?" Did he feel unworthy?

"Do you think animals at a slaughterhouse get to die surrounded by love?"

'Oh, dear God.' He was planning on ending his life

My father's voice trembled with pain. "I just want to be warm."

"Warm?" Did Richard assume he was going to Hell? On closer examination, my father's hands were ice cold, while his face and chest were burning with fever.

My opposite hand touched the cool terracotta tile. It actually felt nice; refreshingly soothing. Was that why he was reclined on the roof in the nude? I took a moment to remove the t-shirt I had been sleeping in. The pattern of tiles felt like a massage chair, hitting just the right pressure points. I rested by his side, placing my hand upon his stomach, just below his sternum.

Richard was in a visible amount of pain. He appeared as if he was thinking of a response, but then he started to cough. It began subtly as if clearing his throat.

I was about to turn him on his side when he started to convulse. 'Crap.' I switched my focus to holding my father in place to keep him from falling. "Tomas, I need help!"

"He's very weak," Tomas replied from the ground level. "He'll likely go into shock if we move him."

'I'm sorry, what?' I was awestruck. Was this their lazy attempt not to help? "Leo? Any ideas?"

"There's a hedge on the side right in front of you," Leo suggested in his helpful, happy stoner voice. He was completely serious.

I was about to speak a string of profanity, but I saw his point; the choice was either to jump or attempt to get a ladder. Either way would require me to attempt to hold my father's body, as we struggled to roll in one direction. "Leo, be real with me; have you actually jumped off the roof before?"

There was an awkward pause. "Um, yeah, totally."

'Fuck you, Leo.' That was how I ended up holding my father's limp body, rolling off the roof, landing on my back. The pain shot from my shoulder, down to my hip. Thankfully the lawn broke my fall. At worst I would be badly bruised hopefully without any broken ribs.

Tomas appeared, scooping Richard's body up in a fireman's carry. "I'll take him from here."

"Gee, thanks." I sat up, taking a moment to evaluate my injuries. There were no broken bones, but I was cut up worse than a rabbit in a briar patch. I limped back inside just in time to hear my phone ping. my mother had sent me an email asking to meet up. The blood, twigs, and leaves would have to wait.

The subject was simply, 'want to meet up?', so I assumed she would share more information in the actual text. That was incorrect. The message was simply, 'Yes, or no?' I typed, 'Sure.' And hit reply, knocking the ball back into her court.

Dad was nearly brain-dead, and I was covered in dirt and blood, so there was nothing my mom could do or say to make the situation worse. I turned on the water, attempting to get it to warm up before stepping in. However, after just thirty seconds I felt too annoyed standing in my own bitterness.

After taking a cold shower, I went to the bedroom to check on Tommy's progress. I knocked on the door, in case Richard had gone back to sleep. "Tomas?"

"Hello, Jeff, you're looking much better." The nurse was in bed, by my father's side. On the nightstand, he was monitoring a wax melting warmer. The block of clear wax was producing a soothing lavender scent.

"I'm pretty sure I have a few bruised ribs, but I'll live." I watched as he applied small amounts of the warm oil to my father's forehead, neck and throat. "Has the fever broken?"

Tomas nodded. "Richard is very weak but I'm hopeful the medicated oil can do something to help the pain."

The look of defeat on his face made me a little pissed off. "He doesn't want to be here. And don't you dare call him weak."

Tomas stood up, checking on an IV bag that had been pushed to the corner (with the line threaded behind the bed). "Give him a few more hours with the medications. The fever has left him severely dehydrated, in his current state, Richard is not strong enough to fight off the blood infection. And rest assured I do not see any of my patients as weak."

"So now he's just your patient?"

"Richard is my patient, the focus of my academic paper, my lover, and my friend. He is a beautiful soul, a human being." He kissed my father's lips, coaxing a smile across the sleeping man's face. "I have only his needs and comfort at heart."

"And then what?" I asked through pursed lips.

"It's an endless cycle," Tomas said with a sigh. "Until it isn't." He swallowed a lump in his throat, blinking back tears. "Do me a favor, stay and talk to him for a while, let him know he's not alone."

"Sure." I didn't ask where he was going or if/when he'd be back. It was hard enough to be dying, but for someone like Richard, who was blind and losing large chunks of his brain function, the experience would be downright terrifying. I owed it to my father to bring him someplace beautiful.

I just needed to be inspired. 'Beauty only a mother could love.' I knew what it meant in referring to a person, but a place? I had not been to many places, but I had been to Las Vegas. And that was certainly a place my mother loved. "Hola, Papi."

That got a smile. Richard wasn't thinking about my mother, he was thinking about Carlos. "Hola." He rolled his head back, exposing his throat. "Play with me?"

"Do you want me to choke you?" I asked with a chuckle. (There was no way he was serious.)

Richard stretched his back. "A beauty only a mother could love."

"What?" With Tomas gone, I reclined on the bed, still soaking wet. I kissed my father down his chest, pausing my lips on his nipple. I blew a stream of air, licking and teasing the areola until he was so hard, I could have given him a body piercing. Since I had no needle or body jewelry, I settled for a gentle, tender bite. "You taste so good, Papi."

"Only for you, Chico." My father laughed. "My beautiful, precious boy." With the IV line still in his port, Richard was essentially tethered to the bed, unable to even sit up until the medication ran its course.

I had an idea (or rather a craving.) I pressed my lips to his mouth, tasting the warmth of my father's breath. "Can you lift your arms over your head?"

With a sensual moan, he flexed his shoulders. He was inviting me to touch him, to guide him. I looked around for a binding; a tie, a belt, maybe even a power cord. I was tempted to use the IV, but that seemed irresponsible.

Instead, I went for a simple towel, binding his wrists over his head in a position of bondage submission. I straddled his hips, pinning him down with my body weight. I traced my hands down his arms, to his shoulders and chest. I could feel his body tense. "You like that, Daddy?"

"Fuck yeah." Richard smiled wide, making him look so unbelievably sexy. "Do you remember our time in Nevada?"

I assumed he was seeing me as Carlos. With that in mind, I made an effort to play along, brushing my lips to his. "I remember that cheap hotel off the highway, on the way to the Grand Canyon."

Richard sighed, licking his lips. "We needed to pick a place off the beaten path, somewhere we could fuck as loud as we wanted without waking the tourists."

"I remember," I said, sweetly kissing the tip of his tongue. "The unairconditioned hot box smelled of sweat, smoke, and every bad decision but it was our place."

"Do you remember Arizona? The time we tried to make a run for it."

I actually did. "We drove in my rusted-out red Oldsmobile, running on about a teaspoon of gas." Was this a past memory from Carlos?

My father laughed. "Yeah, we never should have made it as far as we did."

"You absolutely loved the desert, even when the sunbaked your white-ass to a medium-rare consistency."

"Medium rare?" Richard chuckled.

"Juicy," I said with a flirty kiss, "and tender."

"I don't know why we ever left."

I knew and it broke me. "Your wife was six months pregnant, you wanted so badly to meet your little boy."

Richard nodded. There was a moment of silence followed by a look of clarity. "I could have been a border patrol agent in a past life."

"Border patrol?" I knew he was referring to his admiration for the desert climate, but I was doubled over with laughter. "You mean hunting down hot sweaty brown boys for a living? Is that your kink?" I was in such a fit of hysterics I had to remove myself from my father's lap to catch my breath.

Richard leaned back, mouth agape as if experiencing the most beautiful dream. "I wanted to run away with you, just leave society behind and live off the grid. But I was too weak. I was a fucking pussy."

"No..."

"What does that make you want to do to me?"

I shrugged, unsure of the correct answer.

"Do you want to hurt me?" he asked with a snicker.

Again, I had to assume he was being sarcastic. or perhaps that was the medical professional in me. "No, of course not."

"Do you want to see me suffer?" His voice seemed to fade off into nothingness. "I had to stop chemo because my heart was too weak. i would black out, loosing chunks of time."

I touched his cheek, turning his head to face me. I could see his sadness, desperation. "do you want me to choke you?" I kissed his lips, tasting his breath.

Richard cupped my face, discreetly guiding my hands.

I pressed my thumbs to his throat, starting with soft pressure.

Richard was moaning, his breathing slowed as a smile crept across his face. The less air he had, the more aroused he became. His eyes rolled back into his head, as his chest heaved in pure ecstasy.

Before I could go further, the door reopened and Tomas appeared. "What are you doing?" he asked, more out of curiosity than concern.

"Nothing," I said not moving from where I was. "I wasn't doing anything."

"Why not?" Tomas handed me a bottle of lube and a faux leather belt.

Choking him with anything other than my hands was out of the question. However, I did want to fuck my daddy one last time. The lube smelled like lavender and CBD oil. The gel went on cold, warming to my body temperature as I vigorously worked my shaft.

I wanted to tattoo him, to leave my mark upon his mind, body, and soul. I knew I'd have to settle for splitting him in half. I lifted his knee, gently spreading open my father's ass. I took a moment to examine his thick, robust testicles, massaging from his taint to his shaft. He was so hard. 'How could someone so close to death be so... alive?'

"I love you, Dad." I leaned in, hovering my lips over his, as I pressed my thumbs down with increasing force. When I could feel him start to struggle, I went in, penetrating him balls-deep in the missionary position.

My father leaned his head back gasping with pleasure. "More, please."

"Yes, Daddy." I closed my eyes, as I started to find my rhythm. I was fucking him harder and harder, hitting his prostate with every thrust.

"I can take it."

"What?" Not knowing what he meant, I leaned in for a kiss. this resulted in my mouth making direct contact with Tommy's cock. My eyes shot open. Apparently, the nurse had given up on the idea of the belt. Instead, he was opting to choke his patient by means of his impressive cock.

With Richard's arms pinned over his head, there was little he could do other than open wide. Tomas gripped his hair, guiding my father's head. "Just relax, you're doing good, just take it all in."

My father took a weak breath, taking in the smell of his lover's sweaty balls. Tomas was sitting on his face, fucking my dying father's throat.

I shut my eyes again. It was a little offensive to be forced to share, but Tomas had just as much of a right to be here as I did. I started to jerk off my father's cock, using his precum as lube. I could feel his muscles tighten, as his back arched; that was all me, I was going to give him all the earthly pleasure he could ever want in one glorious orgasm.

Suddenly, I could feel hands on my chest. "Hey, Leo."

Leo was licking my back, down my neck to my shoulder. "I want you to cum all over your daddy's face."

"No thanks, I'm good where I am."

"That's fine," Leo said as he kissed me between my shoulders. "I guess it's my turn to watch from the chair."

"Thanks, I guess I owe you one."

I released Richard's hands from the bindings of the towel. If Tomas was hell bent on stealing his last breath, I at least wanted to hold my father's hand. Gripping his fingers, I could feel his pulse, the blood in his veins. I increased my pace, gripping my daddy's thigh while I worked my hips.

Richard's other newly freed hand masturbated his thick, glistening shaft. He kept pace with me, pumping harder and harder, over and over until he shot ropes of cum all over his slender stomach. For a moment he had no scars, no trauma, no pain.

Gripping his hand, I climaxed hard, tightening my stomach and chest. I could feel tears in my eyes as I filled my daddy's ass with my seed. His body felt so strong; clenching me, begging me for more. That was when I noticed Tomas holding my father's head in place, forcing him to choke down his entire load.