Mama's Heart

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Mama’s Heart Copyright © 2009 Mark Alders Cover art by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books Look for us online at: www.extasybooks.com

Mama’s Heart By Mark Alders

“Y

our Mama says you like the boys?” my Papa said in his usual gravely tone, plucking something metallic out of the latest thingamajig he was working on. There was everything in the back shed. It was like a second home to Papa. He could hibernate in there for six months at a time and not have any worries if he wanted to. Why? Because my Papa fancied himself as an inventor. Then again, all he seemed to invent were useless things that gave him joy and not much else. As I handed him some sort of spanner, he accepted it with a grunt without even looking up at me. Or was it a wrench? Whatever. Tool stuff was beyond me. I looked intently at him as he worked. I suppose as long as you are happy in life, then that’s the most important thing really. Perhaps Papa was the smartest man on this planet. Perhaps he was the most content being ever to have walked on the face of this Earth. Good on him I say. I envy him. When Papa wasn’t working he was always in the back shed, tinkering away. My room 1

Mark Alders happened to face the back garden, and therefore, the shed. Many nights I had been kept awake by the excessive lighting Papa installed so he could work at any hour. The lights were so bright it was like I was living in the path of a prison’s search beam. I could read by it. Those lights Papa had invented worked by storing solar power, long before they became popular and were used to border garden paths. Why he didn’t patent them I had no idea. They were the only thing he had ever made that he didn’t dismantle, re-work or give up on. “Yeah,” I replied, trying to sound as disinterested as I could, but failing miserably. I was unable to stop the lump that formed in the back of my throat no matter how hard I swallowed. I had never talked about my sex life before to anyone, and telling Papa about it sure was weird. It was like a taboo subject in our house. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him kiss Mama—well, not properly anyway. “I like boys.” I know, he probably blamed Mama for my queerness, my fruity ways, but hey, I decided long ago to be truthful to myself, just like Papa. Not that it did me any good. I may like the boys but none seemed to like me. I was woefully single. Always had been. I hadn’t even been kissed by a boy. 2

Mama’s Heart Papa clicked his tongue. “Just don’t hurt your Mama.” He then went back to pulling apart the latest project he’d spent the last six months making. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my Papa to pieces. It’s just that—well, we’re two entirely different people. That’s fine. He’s a man bound by convention. To him, he’s the one that must support the family. As a reward for those beliefs, he whiles away his spare hours in his shed, tinkering away on his little inventions. That’s all cool. But his beliefs didn’t comfort me right now. Mama had never worked a job in her life because of Papa’s beliefs. By job, I mean a paying one of course, because, to be honest, she’s the hardest working person I know. She never stops cleaning, cooking and keeping order to my Papa’s high expectations. She’s a house wife, chained to the duties which that entails. Those duties don’t stop her from being absolutely hilarious and the light of my life though. She’s my best friend, and as such, I tell her everything. Always have. I had told her years ago that I was gay. I had always known I was like that, right from when I sprouted pubes. She knew, too, much to my relief. A vase of white roses appearing on her kitchen bench the day after I told her gave that away. When I asked her why she had changed the roses 3

Mark Alders to that colour, instead of the usual red roses she always cut from the garden, she smiled and said that she knew it was a new beginning for me and, no matter the path I take, I had to prove myself a man. She also said that one day I would understand. I smiled back. I never really had to tell her anything. She always seemed to know. “You’ll get more of the dick than me,” she said with a riotous laugh and a motioning of the cross across her chest, as if what she had said was a sin and by doing so she would be forgiven. I laughed, too. “Not the way I’m going, I won’t.” “You will. You’ll see. There is someone for everyone.” It wasn’t until I was eighteen, a year later, that it happened. My first experience. Before then I was only limited to wanking into Phil my odd sports sock. Which in itself was strange because Aunt Jean had bought me sports socks one Christmas. I never, ever, ever, played anything that even remotely resembled a sport. Not my thing, sports. Mama knew not to touch Phil when she came across it under my mattress, probably because I had told her what it was for. Every time we saw Aunt Jean, Mama would give me a slight nod. If only my Aunty knew what those sports socks were used for. Again Mama laughed. “Oh, Johnny, what am I 4

Mama’s Heart going to do with you?” she said as she dropped the mattress to hide Phil from her view. “Can’t I wash it once in a while for you?” “No, Mama. I like the smell.” “Yes. It sure does smell. You got that right, my boy.” Anyway, getting back to my first time. It was a funny thing, unexpected and out of the blue. It was with a plain looking but widely admired boy named Robert. Sags all the popular boys used to call him. I didn’t really know why, I wasn’t privy to in-house jokes—well, not until he grabbed me by my hand, took me behind the stage at the university drama class I attended and dropped his pants. Oh God, I then knew why they called him Sags. His balls were huge, like two kiwi fruits held in hairy sacks that were as red as a baboon’s arse. He smiled, then gave me a slight nod and a wink as he placed his hands on top of my head, pushing me down. From that I took it that he wanted me to suck him off. I did. As I sucked on his knob, with enthusiasm, but kind of rolling him around inside my mouth, as green as ever and mindful of the fact we were in a public place and I could be caught by some passer-by, his testicles slapped me gently under my jaw. I can still hear that sound as vivid as ever. 5

Mark Alders Slap. Slap. Slap. Exactly ten seconds later, or six slaps, depending on how you want to time it, he blew his load. I can tell you, big testicles mean big wad, and unwillingly, I took it all. It was like I had suddenly drank a huge globule of tangy treacle and I gagged on it. A girl, Elsie was her name, poked her head around the corner to see what all the fuss was about as I coughed and spluttered. Luckily Sags had pulled up his pants and I had swallowed. Something was funny about Elsie. I think she had eyes for Sags or something. Whatever it was, he seemed to revel in her attention. He giggled when Elsie offered me a hand. I got the distinct feeling I had been used for some sort of game. The butt of a joke, so to speak. Perhaps Sags lost a bet and as a punishment he had to get-the-faggot-togive-him-a-blow job. Whatever it was, I felt terrible, and my vision blurred as I tried to compose myself. A lump constricted my throat. “You okay?” Elsie said, looking at me as I got up off my knees. I could feel my cheeks flush as she stared at me. They were probably now as red as Sag’s testicles. I could only answer her with a wheeze, but nodded affirmatively. The taste of Sag’s cum seemed to burn my tongue with salt and 6

Mama’s Heart cinnamon and an aftertaste of something bitter that I couldn’t describe. Yet somehow, I liked it. Not how it happened, but the actual physical experience of tasting, smelling and being with another man. I found that satisfying. I told Mama, because she already knew the instant I stepped into the house something had happened. How did I know she knew? There was a vase of lilac roses on the table. The first time she had changed the colour of the roses since I first told her about my sexuality. I fought back the tears when I asked what the roses meant and I told her about my first time with another boy. “The roses are the colour of my heart for you at this moment. You just be careful, my poor little boy,” she said, cradling me in her bosom and ruffling my hair as she always did. The smell of her frangipani perfume filled my nostrils. I felt better, safe. I felt like me again. “You be careful.” That was the first night in a month that I didn’t wank into Phil. To my complete and utter surprise Sags apologised profusely to me the next day. I asked him why he had humiliated me like he did. I was pretty mad to say the least and I most certainly didn’t have time for more games, not by a show pony like him anyway. “It wasn’t like that at all, Johnny. Honest,” he said with eyes that took on the look of a lost 7

Mark Alders puppy, his deep brown soulful eyes that melted my resolve. Damn him. “Elsie was just there, is all. She always hangs around me like a bad smell. That’s just her. I liked what you did.” “So what’ya saying?” “Give me another chance...please, Johnny.” “So you’re gay then?” “No. I swing both ways. I’m a bi boy. But right now I wanna fool around with you.” I don’t know why, but I let bygones be bygones. I accepted his apology after I had lapped up his attention for long enough. It must have been those gorgeous eyes of his that tipped the balance. Damn again! I hate being a slave to my hormones and I have to say Sags certainly stirred me up inside. “How about we all come over to your house. You’ve got a pool, haven’t you? We can have a little fun, you know, do shit together…just us and the lads.” Visions of me placing a ring on his finger and being with him forever and ever dissipated as quickly as Phil did when Mama approached my room. That single last word he spoke rocked me to my core. “Lads?” I squeaked. It was then that he asked if he could bring a few friends over. I wasn’t so sure, but agreed anyway. 8

Mama’s Heart He reassured me they were into it and that everything would be all right. Time would tell. That afternoon, while Mama went shopping and Papa worked, Sags kept his promise and came over. He was wearing his board shorts, a smile and not much else when I opened the front door to greet him. The three with him wore the same. One young man, with smouldering Italian looks, was Frank. He had more hair on his chest than I had ever seen, and his gold chains seemed to glint slightly from beneath the darkness they were trapped within. The second young man, one that these days you would call a twink, I suppose, was Hue. He was hairless and in complete contrast to Frank. Then there was Ainsley. I’ll get to him later. In the days after university classes that followed, we mucked around engaging in general horseplay as all boys of late teens do. Then when Sags took off his shorts and paraded around, gyrating his hips so that his balls seemed to have a life of their own and he made them slap on his legs with a strange rhythm, we knew it was time to get serious. He was kind of the ringleader and obviously revelled in the fact he was the centre of attention. Mama warned me about men that needed attention. I didn’t know what she meant until a little later. All I know is that she kept the roses in 9

Mark Alders the vase for way longer than she had ever done before. They wilted and died and she didn’t replace them. Not for a long time. Sags came up with numerous activates to make us laugh and keep us all amused. All of which involved some sort of genital play. He would challenge us to do things with each other, and each game got more and more intimate as we progressed. All participated except Ainsley. Once we got busy on each other, Ainsley, still clothed, would sit and watch. He never spoke and only moved to sip from his glass of soft drink or cold beer, or whatever I supplied. He would sit in the far chair—Papa’s favourite—and look on, expressionless. It was eerie, yet somehow quite alluring. This, I had to admit, made me more than curious. What was with Ainsley? When I asked him about it the next day, he shrugged his shoulders. “I just don’t want to do that sort of thing in front of a crowd. I want my special moments to be more intimate is all.” I felt dirty after he had said that. I spent a lot of my days with Ainsley. He made me laugh, amazed me with his wit and knowledge and I always felt at ease, felt like myself, when I was with him. He never engaged me in any physical way and I wondered about that. In fact, it plagued me. In the end, and because I respected 10

Mama’s Heart him, I decided it would be best if we remained friends. I wanted so much more from him, for he seemed like the right kind of guy, but I let him be. Typical. I find someone I am attracted to, really attracted to, and they’re not interested in a relationship. Oh, I almost forgot to mention that Frank had a foreskin. I had never seen one before and at first I was taken aback by the sight of it. “What? You never seen an uncut cock before?” he barked at me with a cheeky smile and glittering eyes, pushing me down onto my knees and shoving it into my mouth after he retracted the skin in question. His cock head was a brilliant purple-red and glistened like it was wet, obviously from being cocooned all its life. The taste of him was unusual as was his smell. When I asked Mama why I had been circumcised, she replied, “So my little angel can be closer to God.” “What does that mean?” “Just know that I love you.” And that was the end of that. Hue was different in so many ways to Frank. He was quiet, Frank was loud. The other thing, the funny thing, which looked odd at first I must admit, was the fact that Hue had absolutely no hair anywhere on his body, except his head hair and eyebrows. Not one. He was obviously 11

Mark Alders spending hours plucking, shaving and waxing it all to get rid of it. It made his already well endowed cock look massive, no question. But it also looked kind of weird, too. He was quite sensitive I found out. He would always ask me what I liked, touching me gently when we were close. Then, one day, I can’t remember exactly, but it was hot. Actually, we could tell how hot the day was by how low Sag’s balls hung. Some days they were impossibly low, dwarfing his cock with their size, other times they were redder than the paint on stop signs. On this particular day they were extremely low and bright red. Anyway, after we had played all our usual games, Hue whispered into my ear. “I want to have sex with you, Johnny. Can I?” “Yes,” I breathed as if it were the only word that I had spoken in my whole life. It was my first time like that, and it hurt like mother fucking hell. Yet, surprisingly, I blew my load unlike any other time in my life. I think I would have filled Phil had I been wrapped in him. It was incredible. My sticky white cum was everywhere. I’m actually quite glad I lost my virginity to Hue. Frank was too rough and Sags— well Sags was a performer and Mama’s words would soon come true about him. 12

Mama’s Heart Mama kissed me tenderly on the forehead after I had told her about Hue and my first time. “So when do I get to meet this lucky boy?” she said as she dolloped an extra ladle of tomato sauce onto my already filled plate of spaghetti. When I glanced at the table in the lounge room, there was a fresh vase of roses, all buds, but again they were lilac. I think it was her subtle way of gently reminding me to be careful. I looked back at her. “Mama, stop embarrassing me.” I giggled. “We’re just mucking around. You know, experimenting and stuff.” “Just remember to be careful, Johnny. I would die if anything happened to you.” She thumped her chest where her heart was, in emphasis to her words, a pained look crossed her face. I knew she was serious. “Yes, Mama,” I replied, but not in a cheeky tone at all. I said those words filled with respect. Those days with the lads went on forever. We laughed, enjoyed and experienced each other in every way one could think of. I had the time of my life. Then one scorching summer afternoon, after graduation, it all came to an end. Sags, low and red, said he wanted to bring another friend over because he was getting bored with the same old thing or some other piss weak excuse like that. We eventually agreed and couldn’t wait to meet him. 13

Mark Alders Ainsley protested and left, much to my surprise. I kind of missed his staring eyes. But there is more to tell about him. Again, I’ll get to that later. The he we expected turned out to be a she. She was Elsie. The one who knew what had happened the year before behind the drama stage. “I’ve got a girlfriend,” Sags proclaimed proudly as he held her close to him. I understood what Mama meant now and the vase of rose buds had bloomed into the brightest lilac I had ever seen, like a beacon to her warning. Sags was a fucking bastard. Sags seemed to be infatuated with her or rather seemed to revel in the attention she gave him. She was practically falling all over him. I sat there, uncomfortable in my own home as he moved his hips round and round to make his balls slap on his skin, laughing wildly as he did so. Showing off in front of her. But this time it wasn’t funny. She shrieked with delight and clapped wildly no matter what he did. It was kind of sickening to watch. I remember putting on my shorts quick smart. Hue and Frank left. I knew there and then that my carefree summer days were over, and all because Sags wasn’t satisfied with us as his audience. He needed more. I pitied him in a way. Me. I was now alone. Only my Mama’s humour 14

Mama’s Heart and Phil kept me going in the days that followed. I thought endlessly about Ainsley. How I would like to have an intimate moment with him now, have him hold me as I tried to sleep with Papa’s shed light on. That vase of roses remained lilac, changed only when they died. I think Mama was worried. Many months passed. Many lonely months. I was home from work one cold winter night when I got a phone call from Ainsley. That more than surprised me. He sounded distant, yet he obviously wanted to tell me something. It puzzled me that he should call after so much water had passed under the bridge. So I invited him over when he was in town. Apparently he worked away. I wanted to console him about whatever it was that was bothering him. I wanted to hold him. That night there was a knock at the door, but not from who I expected. It was Sag’s little brother, Brett. I was dumbfounded to say the least to see him. He was the last person I expected at my doorstep. He had a wanting in his eyes. Mama warned me about men that wanted all the time. She said she cared so much for me and didn’t want me hurt in any way. Men like Brett only took, leaving nothing to give. Again, I didn’t know what she meant, and even the vase of roses changed as if to 15

Mark Alders emphasize her words. This time she cut from the garden, yellow roses. I should have listened to her. Brett was nineteen, tall and as plain looking as his brother. The family traits continued, as I soon discovered, when I invited him in, fed him with a few drinks and he got naked on my couch. His balls were just as red and large as Sag’s. He played with himself a lot, too. I don’t know whether or not he thought that was attractive, but I wasn’t going to argue. Contact was contact, especially after months of being high and dry. Unlike Sags, Brett didn’t like to be fondled by anyone else, particularly on his testicles. He would let me suck him off and that was about it. He didn’t even like kissing. I came to the conclusion rather quickly he was a taker, only wanting things for his own good. I don’t mean that in a nice way. I meant it in the way that Mama had warned me about. It was a one way street with Brett. His sex was unemotional and over just as quickly as when he started. He would always withdraw before he came, shooting his ample load in thick ribbons over my back, leaving me to clean myself up. It was like I was only there for his gratification, a tool for him to use. It didn’t last very long with Brett. “I’m so glad you got rid of that selfish boy. He wasn’t for you, Johnny. You should have listened to your Mama.” 16

Mama’s Heart I nodded. “Yes, Mama. You were right.” She smiled, then cradled me in her bosom. All was forgotten about Brett. Once more the roses were lilac. The next week Ainsley phoned again. This time he was eager to talk to me and he sounded better. Again, I invited him over and again he accepted but said he would be a while. He was still interstate. I was alone again. I thought about Ainsley a lot, dreamed about his piercing blue eyes and how he used to sit in Papa’s chair and sip beer as he watched me. I usually wanked into Phil after I thought of Ainsley–well, I always stroked myself when I thought of him. I couldn’t help it. There was something about him that was fascinating and I yearned for him to be with me. It was then I realised I had never seen him naked. Perhaps that was part of his charm. He was what my Mama called a gentleman. I suppose he is, come to think of it. Then something unexpected happened. A young man moved in next door with his parents. I know this because as I sat down to watch TV that night, there he was on my doorstep asking me if I had a cup of sugar. I knew it was his way of getting to know me, to break the ice as it were. An action which I found quite endearing. I 17

Mark Alders had to give him credit for that. I didn’t even know the house next door was for sale, to be honest. His name was Sam. He was tall—God, he was tall. I thought I was an ample height, but this guy could be a goal shooter for a basketball team, no worries at all. He had a majestic nose that didn’t seem to quite fit onto his face and his lips were thin. But that didn’t matter. He was attractive to me in an odd sort of way. His sparkling eyes were his greatest asset and more than made up for any beauty he may have lacked. I had a weakness for nice eyes. To my surprise, and a pleasant one at that, he patted me tenderly on my arse as I handed him the sugar. “You like the boys?” I said, emulating my Papa’s words. He nodded enthusiastically and smiled in reply, revealing large eye teeth. The next thing I remember, we were huddled on my bed, naked and enjoying each other’s kisses. Sam had a foreskin, but not like Frank’s. His didn’t quite cover the head of his cock and his piss slit could be seen even when he was flaccid. It looked like his dick was wearing an ill-fitting hood, and it retracted easily when I pulled on it. Quite attractive really. He tasted different, too. His taste was less strong, sweeter than Frank. He also groaned a lot as I pleasured him, spurring me on 18

Mama’s Heart to roll my tongue more and more around his cock. I loved it, as did he, obviously. Then softly, and with a voice that wavered slightly as he spoke, he asked if he could please me, to return the favour I had given him. He was so wonderful. So innocent. So darn fucking cute. I couldn’t say no to him. And yes, you guessed it, Mama had even warned me about men that you couldn’t say no to. “He’ll break your beautiful heart, Johnny,” she said as she sipped on a freshly brewed cappuccino, one that filled the house with its wonderful aroma. I tried to tell her that when I was with Sam I forgot about Ainsley. She shot me a glance. One that meant you’ll see. I drank my coffee, the soft subtle scent of her favourite red roses tickled my nose. “Why have you changed the roses to red? I haven’t seen red roses in the house since I was a boy.” “I am giving you hope. You need that if you want to be with your true love.” Sam was inexperienced—as I had been with Sags—and at first he licked my end as one would an ice-cream on a hot summer’s day. I had to gently show him how I liked it by placing myself into his mouth. He seemed to like being taught and responded better than I would have thought to my lead. Most guys would get offended when 19

Mark Alders you had to show them. Brett almost certainly would have been one of those kind of men. Not Sam. His blue eyes twinkled as he looked up right into my eyes as my cock slowly disappeared into his mouth and his magnificent nose became buried in my pubes. He caught on real quick. When I thought he had sucked me enough, I pulled him off, and just like a babe that had been taken away from a teat, he whined. He even gave me a morose expression, as if what I had done offended him. I giggled. I wanted more from him than just a blow job. I wanted his body. It was then that I took him into the bedroom and gently laid him down onto the bed. He looked at me, puzzled about why I had stopped. That expression didn’t last long when I moved so I was positioned between his legs, legs that seemed to be everywhere all at once, because he was so lanky. As I sidled into the perfect spot, I stroked his hard, yet tender cock—made softer by his excess skin. He groaned in the delicious way he did, smiling up at me. It was then, when the moment of realisation struck him, that I pushed myself gently into his warmth. Sam yelped out and shut his eyes tight after a pained expression crossed his face. I had obviously hurt him. I embraced him, nudging my face into his neck and laying on hot, wet kisses all over him. I felt terrible. 20

Mama’s Heart I pulled myself out. He quickly calmed and his breathing returned to normal as I lay on top of him, reassuring him. Moments later, as I looked upon him, took in as much of him as I could, he smiled again, nodding that he wanted more. I obliged. He stared at me with those beautiful twinkling eyes and moaned constantly as I fucked him. I was now sitting up so I could push myself deeper and I could see his stomach quiver as I moved rhythmically inside him. He was soon in the throes of rapture. “Fuck!” was all he could manage as he shot a great wad of cum across his stomach with such force that some found his face. What was also so brilliant about Sam was that his muscles tensed so much when he orgasmed, I could feel his ring tighten around me. I blew seconds later, unable to control myself as I looked at his sweat covered skin and then into his lovely innocent eyes. He licked his lips, taking in some of his own juice. I joined him. He tasted sweet, like his cock. We fucked each other for most of the night, only stopping for refreshments and food. It went on like this for weeks, our sex. Each time he gasped and moaned and acted as coy as if I were with him for the first time. God he was hot. Sam had everything I could ever want in a lover, 21

Mark Alders charming, sweet and caring. I thought he was the one. How wrong I was. A few nights later there was Sam at my door, hand in hand with another lad. Paul was his name. The name of the Devil as far as I was concerned. I felt absolutely devastated. Gutted really. I stood there, mouth agape and seething with every emotion I could name and some that I couldn’t. It boiled down to the fact that I was angry, damn fucking angry. Sam asked if he could come in. Then as if to rub salt into my wounds, he said he’d like to spend the night in my home with Paul. He couldn’t at his house, his parents didn’t know about his lifestyle. I had to let him in. Remember, I couldn’t say no to Sam, even though I knew he would no longer be in my arms. I could hear my Mama say You’ll get hurt over and over in my mind as Sam and his new lover entered my house. As I listened to Sam moaning and yelping from the spare room, I cried. They were supposed to be my moans and yelps. Life fucking sucked, and for the first time since I can remember, I cried with such emotional weight I couldn’t even be bothered to watch TV. I ate instead. I ate and ate until I puked it all up again. That was kind of cathartic. So I did it again. The pain of having my heart ripped out and my 22

Mama’s Heart emotional roller-coaster ride didn’t end there. Ainsley phoned again, around midnight. His soft, yet deep voice said that he was in the state. I was still angry, but my anger was now directed toward Ainsley. Why didn’t he come over sooner? Then I would have never got involved with Sam. This would have never happened. The next day, while I cleaned up after breakfast, Ainsley called at my door. And after all the turmoil of the night before, I was actually elated to see him. His gentle face was medicine for my woes. Sam had left before I got up. He kept in contact, but I’ll tell you more about that later. Suffice it to say, he’s still with that Paul fellow. In the end, if Sam’s happy, then I am, too. Mama hugged me again and again as she consoled me about the ways of the world. “Things have a funny way of revealing themselves. And the only thing you have to figure out is what it all means in the here and now. That tall boy had a different path to follow. You have to choose yours, Johnny.” “I so want to be with Ainsley.” The vase had yellow roses with red tips, ones I didn’t know grew in our garden. I looked at her. She looked serene, as peaceful as I had ever seen her. Did she know something I didn’t? “You will 23

Mark Alders have your chance with him if it is to be. Just know that I am always here for you.” She kissed me on the forehead. Ainsley and I eventually did become an item. It was with great relief I must say, that he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted him. I questioned him about why he never asked me out sooner. He simply replied with, “I was waiting for the right man. And now I know it’s you.” Whether that was true or not, I don’t know. But he was a gentleman, and obviously didn’t want to offend me in any way. Perhaps I’ll never find out. Mama didn’t offer me any warnings about Ainsley. Over the following days and weeks, the roses got deeper and deeper in colour until they were her favourite red once more. She always smiled, gestured the cross and gave me a sweet kiss on my forehead when I went to her. I knew that was her way of saying I did good. I was so happy, like joy had been released inside me and was now spreading to saturate every pore. “Then he’s all right, Mama?” “If he’s the gentleman you say he is, you’ll be all right. Your Papa is a gentleman. I’m happy.” Being with Ainsley was different than any other experience I had ever had with another man. We actually went out together. You know, going to the movies, shopping, dining out, that sort of thing. It was the total opposite to a quick liaison 24

Mama’s Heart behind a drama stage or as a tool for some selfcentred prick. It wasn’t until the third date that he even kissed me and that was a peck on the cheek as I left his car. God, he was such a gentleman. I wanked like fucking mad in the early days of our relationship. I needed a release from all the sexual tension he seemed to exude upon me. I was so horny. Phil didn’t know what hit him. By the second week, he had given me an opened mouthed kiss, one that I’ll never forget. So full of passion, I gasp and my stomach ties in knots when I think about it. Unlike Frank, he didn’t thrust his tongue into my mouth to gag me, rather he gently teased with it. Touching my tongue, then pulling back. It was fucking awesome. A kiss from a real man. Mama said I glowed with happiness. She was right. I was content. The red roses became long stemmed and entwined. How she managed that, I don’t know. One day, many weeks later, Ainsley came to my door with flowers. No man had ever given me flowers before. I was stunned. Roses they were, red as the fire I felt for him. Both mine and Mama’s favourite. I placed them in the vase, which was kind of weird because the vase was empty for the first time in living memory. Did Mama know that I would now be getting flowers 25

Mark Alders and that she no longer needed to pick them? I shook that thought out of my head. That would mean she was some kind of psychic. “How about a meal at home tonight?” he said with his soft, yet deep voice, a voice that sent shivers of delight down my spine. “I’ll cook.” After the meal, a delicious pot roast, he led me to my room. It was there he undressed. He was magnificent. Well toned, unlike lanky Sam, perfect size, unlike Sags and his balls, and the right amount of hair, unlike either Frank or Hue. I could only sit on the bed and gawk. Moments later, he made love to me. Yes, love. The kind that involved meaningful kisses, knowing glances and tight embraces. It was wonderful. Ainsley was the one. Later that night Mama, Ainsley and I drank and celebrated until we giggled like school girls. It was fantastic. A year passed. It was a hot night again, how hot I couldn’t say—I didn’t have Sags in my living room as a thermometer. After we had eaten and were both naked, all sweaty from the heat of the day, we fell on top of the sheets, holding each other tight, talking softly. We made love when the night air cooled enough to be comfortable. When it was my turn to be in him, he yelled out in agony, a far cry from how he reacted on the 26

Mama’s Heart uncountable times we did it before then. Perplexed and bewildered I stopped, only cuddling him after that. I was more scared for him than I had been for anyone in my life, and I told him to see a doctor. It was then he told me that he had been. Ainsley told me, calm and casually, between tender kisses upon my cheek, that he had bowel cancer. That was the real reason why he was away so much and why he couldn’t see me for all those years, even though he wanted to. I was so overcome I didn’t know what to do. I cried in his arms like a hurt little boy until I could cry no more. I was also confused as to why he hadn’t told me sooner. I found out he was in remission, and thought that he had seen the last of it. He didn’t want his condition to spoil our relationship in any way. He didn’t want sympathy. He only wanted to be loved, like I did. Obviously he wasn’t cured. We managed to keep on loving each other, finding different ways to express our feelings as he became weaker and weaker. Mama helped as much as she could, coming over and cooking and cleaning for us. It was now late spring, and after a long stay at the hospital due to Ainsley’s condition, we were in the garden on our swing chair, holding each other as we always did. He loved the garden and grew 27

Mark Alders many flowers, roses especially. Mama was careful to only pick enough of the red ones so that the garden remained a bright and cheery place as Ainsley’s condition got worse. One afternoon he complained he was tired. I told him I loved him and that he should rest. He placed his head onto my lap. As I cradled him, stroked his skin, he died peacefully. Mama wore black with a dark, deep red rose on her blouse and a white rose in her hand to throw on the casket as it was lowered into the ground. She cried like a banshee at his funeral. Papa came, too. He didn’t say a word, but I could see in his eyes he understood, that he respected me. I felt validated. Sure, I kept in contact with Sam and Paul, had them over for dinner nearly every other weekend. In fact, we became good friends. The past was the past, after all. I even managed to track down Frank and Hue, much to my delight. Frank owned a landscaping business and had married a woman and had three girls. His wife was lovely and she offered to decorate my place. I accepted. I now have a retro look home. Quite quaint. Mama thinks it’s all fancy and enjoys cleaning something different. I tell her not to, but you know, Mama is Mama. Since the day Ainsley had passed away, she always picked white flowers. Not until a year or two later did the roses change to that of red 28

Mama’s Heart once more. Did she see something I couldn’t again? Hue, on the other hand, had remained single. I asked him if he would like to move in with me, as a friend to start with. You know, see how things went before committing to each other. He agreed. “Hello, Mama, I’m Hue,” he said as he extended out his hand to Mama, a boyish grin planted on his lips. She looked him up and down, and as she did so I felt my heartbeat loud in my ears. Was she going to like Hue? Moments later, and much to my relief, she laughed, then said, “You look after my Johnny. Or I’ll tan your hide.” “Yes, Ma’am.” She hugged him and he returned it in kind. Then it dawned on me. Mama and Papa were the happiest people alive. They cared deeply for others without condition and all my life they had been teaching me the same thing. Treat others as you would like to be treated, Mama would always say. Everything she did, from the meals she cooked to the colour of the roses she picked for her favourite vase, all were done with love in her heart. It seemed to me that things might turn out okay. But no matter what happens, I will always remember my gentleman. My Ainsley. Perhaps Hue was the one. Perhaps he wasn’t. It didn’t 29

Mark Alders matter. The only thing that mattered was that no matter what I did, I had to do it with love. I cut red roses from the garden and placed them into my own vase. I had hope once more. Mama smiled.

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About the Author

I’m Mark and I live in Perth, Western Australia. By day I am a public servant, but by night, when I get in front of my computer, I can be anyone. I let my imagination go. I can go anywhere, from the farthest reaches of space, to the dilapidated house at the end of the street, and anywhere in between. I write about people from all walks of life, from teenagers finding out what’s it’s like to be an adult or to adults that discover what it’s like to become a child once more. Characters move my stories just as much as they move me.