Stolen Love

By Samuel Stefanik

Published on Aug 12, 2023

Gay

FIVE CHAPTERS LEFT COUNTING THIS ONE!!! I'm sorry to say, there isn't a story ready to follow this one. You'll have to wait. Because you've all been very good, I've changed my mind about ending the tale with this story. There WILL be more tales from Solum. You'll have to wait a bit while I create them. In the mean time, enjoy what's left of Stolen Love.

Thank you so much dear reader for reading and commenting and being there for me. Your support has touched my heart.

Disclaimer:

If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you.

Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips

53 Morning Joe...and Andy

Like all spectacular things, the night eventually had to end, and morning followed it. When Shawn and I separated from our marathon session, I checked the time to see it was well after midnight. Since the next day was Sunday, I decided there was no reason to worry about what time we got up. Before I settled down to sleep, I set the walls to full dark so the sunrise wouldn't bother us.

In deference to the party, Bem had rescheduled his regular church service from nine in the morning to noon. I figured Shawn and I would have plenty of time to rise naturally and still make the noon service. As a precaution, I set an alarm on my phone for ten-thirty. That would give us a full hour and a half to rise slowly, shower, dress, eat and still get to the chapel with time to spare.

My leisurely morning was not to be. My slumbers were shattered far too early by a voice on the door intercom. The door chime sounded, and an urgent voice pleaded for entry. I woke, realized how early it was, gritted my teeth in anger and buried my head in the covers.

I felt Shawn come awake. He called to me. "Love, your brother is at the door."

"I know." I said from under the pillow that I had bunched around my head.

"I think he wants to see you."

"I know." I said again from the same place.

Shawn, always the reasonable one, thought I should see what Joe wanted. "Love, please. He sounds desperate."

"He always sounds that way." I replied, still without removing the pillow from over my head. Shawn's patience ran thin. "Church!" He scolded me as Joe's voice continued to beg for entry.

"FUCK!" I cried out in response and threw the covers from my upper body while I used my feet, like a child throwing a tantrum in the grocery store, to kick them down the bed. I lunged from my warm comfort, stopped at the closet for my robe, and threw it around my body while I marched to the apartment door. I dragged the door open to stand face-to-face with my brother.

Joe's first words to me almost made me slam the door in his face. "What's with your hair?" He asked.

"HAIR?" I demanded.

Joe nodded and kept his eyes well above mine like he was staring at a hat I had on. "Yes, your hair."

I reached up to see what Joe was talking about. What I felt brought an embarrassed flush to my face. My long, brown hair was piled on top of my head in a tangled beehive. My mind flashed to the previous night's festivities and the second time Shawn sat on my face. He'd stared love and sex into my eyes and reached between his thick thighs to comb his delicate fingers through my hair while I ate his well-fucked ass.

My mind flashed a second time, to later in the session when Shawn topped me very slowly and very tenderly and played with my hair while he did it. Shawn liked to play with my hair while we made love. I enjoyed when he did it. None of that mattered to why Joe was interrupting my badly needed sleep.

"Fuck my hair!" I barked at him. "What do you want?"

Joe finally met my eyes. "Can I come in, please?"

I gritted my teeth and stood aside to let my brother into the apartment. He walked in and I swung the door shut. I called my cell phone from my nightstand to my hand and used it to start the process of making the walls and roof clear. I told the building management system to reduce the opacity slowly because I didn't want to be blinded by the early morning sunshine. I wanted to adjust to the day gradually.

I moved to the kitchen counter, leaned against it, and rubbed my face with my hands. I rubbed it savagely, like I was trying to wake my expression up. I dropped my hands from my face and looked toward Joe. "What do you want?" I asked again.

Joe wouldn't look at me. He stood behind the kitchen island and shuffled his feet. "Can I sit?" He asked.

"Sure."

Joe sat and played with his hands on the surface of the counter. He muttered something I didn't catch.

"What?"

"It stinks in here." Joe repeated.

I almost exploded. Instead, I gritted my teeth and decided to use some honesty to fuck with Joe for waking me up. "It smells like sex."

"Sex?" Joe asked and wrinkled his nose. "Is that what that is?"

"Yes, Joe. That's what it smells like when two men spend several hours FUCKING EACH OTHER IN THE ASS!"

Joe finally looked up at me as I finished shouting. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

I felt like I'd gone insane. Joe had an incredible knack of always making me feel like I'd gone insane. I rubbed my face with both hands and turned away from my brother, toward the culinarian and coffee. I wasn't going to be able to deal with Joe without coffee. Just as I got the machine awake, Shawn strode up to me in his own fluffy white robe and took over.

"I'll get the coffee." He said. "Talk to your brother."

I turned back to see Joe was still seated at the island. He was still playing with his hands on the countertop. By that time, it was full light in the apartment, and I got a good look at Joe. He was dressed as he had been the night before and he looked completely disheveled. His face was drawn tight with nervous tension. He kept making a double fist with his hands and squeezing the joints white.

"Does it have to smell like that in here?" Joe asked in a muttered voice that sounded like it didn't want to be shouted at anymore.

I swallowed my anger at being woken up too early and tried to deal with whatever was bothering my brother. I used my phone to tell the building management system to open the walls and let the gentle breeze of the plains blow away the scent of my and Shawn's lovemaking. As the locker-room odor dissipated, Joe seemed to breathe easier.

He did something that surprised me. He thanked me. "Thanks," he said, "for opening the walls. I appreciate it."

"Sure, Joe." I agreed. "Now, what do you want?"

I waited for Joe to speak his piece. As I did, Shawn put a cup of black coffee in my hands. I gulped from the cup and felt the hot, strong, dark roast liquid slide down my throat and start my own wake up process, albeit a bit late. I drained the cup and held it between my hands. Shawn poked the back of my hand and took the cup from me. He refilled it from the culinarian and returned the cup to my hands before Joe said his first word.

"I slept with a man last night." Joe whispered.

The statement was so bizarre, especially coming from Joe, that my brain automatically made fun. The fun entered my head and exited my mouth with no filter on it. "Well, you'll have to marry him." I said with a deadpan expression and no inflection in my voice.

Joe raised panicked eyes to me and uttered a panicked, "WHAT?"

Shawn shoved an exasperated elbow into my ribs and tried to reassure Joe. "He's kidding. It's fine, Joe. Tell us what you mean."

Joe rubbed the back of his neck with the heel of his left hand. "I slept with a man last night, your brother, Preem...Primis." Joe admitted with a jerk of his chin toward Shawn.

I couldn't believe my ears. I remembered Andy telling me that they were attracted to each other, but I didn't expect Joe and Primis to do anything about it, not that quickly. I expressed my surprise. "Fuck me." I muttered.

Joe heard my mutter and reacted to it with more panic. "NO! WE DIDN'T DO THAT!"

Shawn came to the rescue again with more soothing words. "Even if you had, that would be fine. It's all fine, Joe. You're adults, you and my brother. If you're attracted to each other, any way you decide to display that attraction, even with physical affection, is completely acceptable. You said you didn't have sex. That's fine as well. Why don't you explain what you're upset about, and we can try to help you?"

Joe rubbed the back of his neck again, took a deep breath, and sighed it out. "Your brother," Joe addressed himself to my husband, "your brother, Preem...Primis, he's...he's really great. He showed up here while you guys were away. He didn't know what to do with himself. He thought he was coming here to get reacquainted with his mother, but she's been busy with Father Miller...ahem, Paul. Preem, I mean, Primis, he didn't know what to do with himself. He wound up hanging around with Andy and Comitis and...and me.

"You know, Andy asked me to work with him on his new collection. I've been doing research, looking at mountain ranges around the world. Trying to get a handle on how to help Andy with his palette of colors. Andy and me, the two of us worked together a little, but a lot of this, I have to do. Comitis, he's been working on the numbers. Preem...Primis has a background in numbers. Comitis, he tried to work with Preem...Primis on the costs. Preem...Primis I mean, he..."

Shawn broke into Joe's meandering monologue with a suggestion. "Joe, if you want to call my brother by a nickname, we'll know who you mean. You don't have to keep correcting yourself."

Joe nodded gratitude to Shawn and went back to his story. "Preem doesn't want to do numbers anymore." Joe said with a sourness in his tone like he hated numbers as badly as Primis apparently did. "He's sick of numbers. When he saw what I was working on, the colors, he started to engage with me. He started asking questions. He started getting interested. He wanted to know all about art and color and just everything. I showed him the mural, and at Church's suggestion, we started to climb it.

"It's been so much fun. Preem has been so much fun. He's curious and passionate. He flatters me by listening when I talk. I go on and on and on and just when I come back to myself and think he must be bored to tears, he asks me a question that wants to know even more. He's smart too. He's creative.

"When I'm working on colors and concept art, Preem...he's started to make suggestions, really insightful suggestions. I think he's an artist too. I think he's a repressed artist. Andy noticed. He asked Preem to travel with us. He asked Preem to go with us when we leave to look for the right mountain range for Andy's new collection. Preem...he agreed to go."

Joe trailed off and wrung his hands some more. I didn't see what there was to be upset about. I encouraged my brother. "That's great!" I said, thrilled that it sounded like Joe made a friend, or maybe more than a friend. "That's great, Joe. You've got a travel companion. You found someone to engage with, someone who likes the stuff you like. I'm happy for you."

I expected Joe to agree with me. I expected him to grin at my praise. The grin I expected became a stress-filled grimace. "You don't understand." Joe moaned and squeezed his knotted hands together. "There's more to it. Preem and I...oh my God! We spent the whole party together. He even got me to dance with him. I danced...WITH A MAN!"

I fought the urge to make fun of Joe again. I wanted to make light of his worries, but I realized this was a big deal for Joe. I realized that he was trying to come to terms with something that he'd railed against for his entire life. I tried to treat Joe gently, even though he'd never done the same for me.

"OK, Joe." I said at the end of a deliberate breath. "You danced with a man. How does that make you feel?"

Joe opened his mouth to answer, but I talked over him. "I didn't ask you how that makes you feel inside that lawyer's brain of yours. I want to know how that made you feel, deep inside yourself. I want to know, when you held him close, and he held you, and you moved to the music, what did you feel right then in that moment. I want you to lay all your history aside and be right there, with that insightful repressed artist in your arms, and tell me how you felt."

I locked my eyes to Joe's and held them there. I stared into his eyes and waited. I could tell that Joe wanted nothing more than to avoid my gaze, but I wouldn't let him. Finally, after what felt like minutes of waiting, Joe admitted how he felt, but he did it in a whisper.

"Preem, he...he coaxed me out onto the balcony behind the ballroom. No one was out there. It was dark, so dark. Preem asked me to dance with him. I resisted, but he insisted. `No one can see,' he said. He moved into me, his body against mine. He put my arms around him and laid his head on my chest. He felt warm, so warm. He's small, smaller than me and his head only comes to my chest. He laid his head on my chest and hummed the music and we danced, so slowly, out there in the dark."

Joe trailed off again and didn't say anything more. His eyes grew shallow as he seemed to relive the memory of the dance. I started to urge Joe to finish the story, but Shawn stopped me with a hand on my upper arm. I looked to his face, and he shook his head at me. I took that to mean he wanted me to wait, so I waited.

Joe's whisper eventually took up the tale again. "We danced like that, with him in my arms and his head on my chest. When the dance was over, he held my hand and took me to the railing. We looked at the stars and didn't say a word. He held my hand in the dark.

"When the party was over, we went to my apartment. We separated and went to our rooms. I took my clothes off and got in bed. A little later, Preem came in. He didn't even knock. He just came in and got in bed with me. He laid almost on top of me. He put his head on my chest like he had when we danced. `Hold me, Joseph.' He said."

Joe focused his eyes to let me in on a nuance of Primis' manner of speaking. "Preem, he likes to use my full first name. He says my nickname is too short. He says a man like me should have a bigger name than just three letters. He always calls me Joseph."

Joe's eyes went shallow again as he sank back into his story to finish it. "I put my arms around him, and he went to sleep. He went to sleep, just like that, with his head on my chest and my arms around him. A little later, I went to sleep too. It felt so good to have him with me like that, so...perfect maybe. That was last night. This morning, when I woke up...when I woke up, with a man in my bed, I...I needed someone to talk to. I couldn't find Father Miller...Paul, so I came here."

Joe finished his story because he'd come to the present. He looked expectantly between me and Shawn, like one of us was going to give him the answer to the question he hadn't really asked. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to know what that meant about him. He wanted to know if sleeping with a man made him gay. He wanted to know if he was the same as me and Shawn, if he was the same as his son, Andy. He wanted to know if he was the same as those who he'd always passed judgement upon.

I was tempted to blast him. I was tempted to shout at him for all the hurt he'd inflicted on me and his son for the last dozen years. I was tempted to remind him that he'd come to the residence of two men who were married to each other to vent his concern about being attracted to a man. I was tempted, sorely tempted to be cruel, like he had been to me.

I did none of those things, in spite of the very strong impulse I had to do them. I recognized how hard it had been for Joe to come to me for help. I was a bit peeved at him for admitting so readily that Shawn and I had been his second choice for advice, but I tried to release that small hurt with all the tremendous hurts from before.

I tried to remember back years and years when I was a teenager and was worried that I might be gay. I tried to remember what that had been like, the intense fear I'd felt then. I tried to put myself, as near as possible, into Joe's shoes. I tried to offer my brother the guidance that I had badly needed, but never got. I tried to do it without the judgement that I never needed, but always got. I tried to start gently. "Joe, we don't decide who we love."

"I'M NOT..." Joe shouted, immediately defensive.

I held my hand up to silence him. To my amazement, Joe allowed himself to be silenced. "I'm not saying you're in love. I'm saying you should open yourself to the possibility. I'm saying you shouldn't rule it out. If you and Primis are getting along, then keep getting along and see where that takes you. Paul told me that life and love is all there is. I think that's true. If you've met someone who you find compelling, someone who it feels good to be with, then so what if they're a man?"

Joe clenched his hands together again. His whole body seemed to clench with tension. "Does that mean," he whispered, "does that mean I'm like you? Am I gay?"

I shrugged in spite of myself. I almost blurted that Andy had told me he'd read Joe's mind and discovered he was bisexual, but I didn't want to expose Joe to himself with that much brutality. I tried again for the gentler approach. "I've heard of many studies that say most people are on a spectrum. The studies said that almost everyone is at least a little attracted to the same sex and the opposite sex.

"Take me, I still notice women. I'm not attracted to them, but I notice when a particularly attractive woman is nearby. Sometimes I even notice if they have a nice figure, a good ass or big breasts. Maybe that means I'm ninety-five percent gay and five percent straight.

"You've lived your whole life as a straight man. I think if you were gay, you would have known it long before now. I think you met a man who stimulates you intellectually, and with whom you have enough compatibility to be physically attracted to him. Maybe you're seventy percent straight and thirty percent gay. Maybe it's eighty / twenty. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe if you find Primis compelling, you should see where that takes you."

Joe shook his head. He wasn't convinced. "But...but if I'm only a little, you know...like you, how can I...I mean, it's not enough, is it? It wouldn't be fair...to him, I mean."

To my complete surprise, I understood what Joe meant. He was worried that if he was just a little gay, it wouldn't be enough to have a relationship with Primis. Shawn came to the rescue with a suggestion. "Tell my brother how you feel. Tell him how you lived and what your history is. Tell him everything you just told us. See what he thinks about it. If you both have feelings for each other, then this discussion should really be between the two of you."

"I'm afraid." Joe whispered.

I crouched down to put my face in Joe's line of vision. He met my eyes and followed them as I stood back up. "Sure you're afraid. You just found out that the way you thought things were, might not be the way they are. You just found out that life doesn't fit into the neat box you thought it did. Do yourself a favor, Joe, embrace it. Do what you've never allowed yourself to do before. Open yourself to everything that's possible.

"You're about to set off on an adventure. You're headed off into the unknown with your son and his fiancŽ. You told me once that you wanted an adventure. I think you need this adventure. I think Primis needs this adventure. You've both been trapped, him by his father and you by your prejudice.

"This is your chance to leave all that behind. This is your chance to embrace life and love and everything that's possible. Take this chance because you might not get another. Go on your adventure with your new friend and don't let the prejudice that's had you trapped go with you."

Joe played with his hands on the countertop some more. "Andy said we leave at the end of the week." He said to his two-handed fist.

"That's just a few days." I remarked without meaning.

Joe agreed. "Yes, just a few days." A qualm made a shadow across Joe's face. "I've got work to do!" He realized. "I've got a ton of work to do. I've got studies to finish, and I've got to pack and Andy's counting on me to rank our destinations by color temperature."

"Sounds like you'll need help to get it all done." Shawn observed. "You should enlist Primis, shouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes!" Joe agreed. "Preem can help. He's got to help. I won't get it all done otherwise."

Joe stood from his chair and made for the door. He got half-way there and did an about face. He practically danced back to where I remained with Shawn at my side. He surprised me with a hug that almost spilled my second cup of coffee. He just wrapped his arms over me and hugged me.

Joe slapped my back then released me. He switched to Shawn and embraced him just as abruptly. He slapped Shawn's back, then lunged away from us. "Thanks...thank you, both of you. Thank you both. I...uh, I have to...you know...stuff to do." Joe said and fled the apartment.

Joe's rapid departure left both Shawn and I flatfooted. He left so quickly, he didn't even shut the door behind himself. I stared after him until Shawn interrupted my staring with a question.

"What women do you notice?" Shawn teased me.

I shook my head toward the open door. "Just Rubi. Her and that damn bodysuit of hers. The guys I used to work with would have said `she's built like a brick shithouse.' Her body is built for sex. I don't want to have sex with her, but I can't help noticing."

I felt Shawn's amusement at my admission. He even agreed with me. "She has a very nice figure."

The door to the apartment continued to hang open, so I decided to shut it. I set my coffee down on the counter and crossed the room. I could have closed the door with magic, but for some reason I decided to close it with my hand.

As I crossed the floor, I tossed a teasing question to Shawn. I did it both because I wanted the answer, and I wanted to change the subject away from my one-time tailor, Rubi. "What the fuck is color temperature?"

"I was hoping you knew." Shawn replied with a smirk in his voice.

I reached for the knob to pull the door shut. As I did, Andy appeared on the threshold. "Uncle Church," he said, "can I see you?"

"Oh, fuck me." I said to myself as I looked into my nephew's pinched and worried face. I'd had a passing idea that I might get back to sleep for a while after Joe left. Andy's appearance made that impossible. I resigned myself to staying awake and welcomed Andy in. "Yeah, come on in."

"I'm sorry." Andy apologized. "I know it's early, but I need help. Actually, I need Shawn's help. I didn't want to bother you. I looked for Met, but I couldn't find him."

"Second choice again." I said to no one.

Andy heard that I'd spoken but not what I said. "What's that?" He asked.

"Nothing." I shook my head at myself and went back to the kitchen counter for my coffee. I grabbed the cup and waved at the island seat my brother had just abandoned. "Have a seat. You just missed your dad."

Andy stood behind the island stool. "I know he was here. I waited for him to leave before I came up. I didn't want him to...to hear what I need."

Shawn started to say something, but I bullied his words aside with my own. "Sure...sure, anything you need. We're always open for business here. Sit. Rest your feet and unburden your soul. Sit. Do you want coffee, or tea? Maybe a four-course meal, or a five-course one. Food and drink, advice, magic or faith healing. Sit for fuck's sake and tell us what the problem is."

Andy stared at me. I stared back at him. I felt disapproval from Shawn and realized I'd been a ranting asshole. I set my coffee down, scrubbed my face with my hands yet again, and apologized to Andy. "I'm sorry, your dad was just here and I'm tired. What do you need, Andy? Have a seat. Sit down and tell us all about it. If we can help, you know we'll help."

Andy grinned mischief at me. "Dad and Primis, huh? How about that? I guess he was pretty balled up about it."

"That's putting it mildly." I agreed.

Shawn elbowed my ribs...again. "We won't be discussing that." Shawn announced. "What's between your brother and my brother is their business and not open for public review."

Andy raised his hands in the surrender pose and acquiesced to Shawn's wise words. "You're right. I'm sorry."

I agreed with Andy. "I'm sorry too."

With that settled, Andy looked between us some more, but he didn't say anything. I looked back at him and sipped my coffee. When I couldn't take the Mexican stand off any longer, I made a suggestion. "Andy, sit, speak."

"I can't." Andy admitted and lowered his eyes in embarrassment.

"Can't?" I asked.

"I can't sit."

"What are you talking about?"

Andy brought nervous eyes up to meet mine. "Uncle Church, do you remember last night when you said you were broadcasting your magic? Remember you said about Shawn's underwear and why I was so horny last night?"

"Yeah."

"I think you may have influenced us, me and Com, more than I thought. When we went back to our place last night..." Andy paused to rub the back of his neck with the heel of his hand like I do when I'm embarrassed, "Com and me...we...we had sex, like a lot of it. We had a lot of...uh...enthusiastic sex."

Andy stopped talking and continued to rub his neck. I didn't understand what the hell he was going on about. I pressed him to get to the point. "So?" I asked.

"So," Andy said, "I need medical attention, please."

I turned Andy's request over in my mind and tried to make heads or tails of it. Understanding struck me like a shovel blow to the back of the head and I erupted with laughter. Andy turned dusky red with embarrassment. "Please, Uncle Church." He begged.

I wanted to be a good uncle. I wanted to be respectful of my nephew's pain and embarrassment. I wanted to be the bigger man who didn't laugh at the pain of others. I couldn't do any of those things. The situation was far too funny, especially after what I'd just endured with Joe. I laughed myself breathless. When I could get a little air in my lungs, I used it to tease Andy. "What happened, did Comet batter your back door with that big bologna of his?"

To my immense surprise, Andy admitted that was the case. "I'm so sore." He said with a pitiful grimace.

Andy's admission gave me another fit of hysterics, which Shawn chastised me for. "You should be ashamed." Shawn scolded me. "The poor boy is hurt."

"I'm sure he is!" I giggled with delight. "You should have seen that monster! I can't believe he can walk!" Shawn scowled at me, and Andy looked completely mortified. In deference to my husband and with pity for my nephew, I swallowed my merriment and apologized. "I'm sorry. I really am. Do you want me to clear out for a few minutes so Shawn can patch things up?"

Shawn said that wouldn't be necessary. He took poor Andy into our bathroom and applied his magic to the right places. Shawn told me later that he took care of Andy with a full connection because Andy couldn't bring himself to disrobe in front of Shawn. I guessed the old attraction was still there and Andy was too embarrassed to be naked in front of someone he'd spent so much time lusting after.

Andy and Shawn came out of the bathroom. Andy sat at the kitchen island and made no moves to go any further. I'd hoped he would just take his healed butt back to his fiancŽ and leave me and Shawn alone. It's not that I didn't enjoy my nephew's company. I did, but just then I was tired and a bit irritable for the way I was woken up.

Shawn conspired against me and got Andy a cup of coffee. Andy sipped his coffee and jerked his head up at me. "What's with the hair, Uncle Church?" He asked.

The power of suggestion, being what it is, caused my brain to flash to the same scenes it had flashed to when Joe asked that same question about thirty minutes earlier. I opened my mouth to answer Andy's question with a snide remark, but I never got the chance. Andy averted his eyes, blurted `I'm sorry,' at the top of his voice, and fled the apartment.

I guessed what happened and rubbed the frustration across my face with both of my palms. Shawn cleared up Andy's abandoned coffee cup and asked a question that I thought had an obvious answer. "What was that about?"

"He had his power active again." I said to reply to Shawn. "He asked me about my hair with his power active."

Shawn didn't get it right away. I asked a leading question to explain what Shawn hadn't gotten yet. "What were we doing when my hair got like this?" I asked.

I watched as all the blood drained from Shawn's face, then it returned in a furious flush. "Do you think, do you think he saw me, from your perspective?"

"While you sat on my face?" I said to speak the unspoken part of Shawn's question. "Yup."

"Oh my."

I shrugged. "Nothing we can do. He'll either learn to stop leaving his power on all the time, or he won't, and he'll keep seeing shit like that." I drained my second cup of coffee and moved to stand near Shawn. "Speaking of eating something..."

"Church, no!" Shawn exclaimed with a face that was adorably horrified. "I'm absolutely sticky with sweat. I must stink."

I laughed at my husband. "Yes, love," I agreed, "I love the way you smell, but even I have my limits. I thought maybe we could shower. We're not going to get back to sleep so we may as well get pulled together. I may snack on you a little under the hot water, but then I thought we could go down to my kitchen, and I'll cook breakfast."

"Oh, that's OK then." Shawn agreed.

We went to get clean.

Next: Chapter 54


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate