"Pepperoni with olives and marshmallows, right?" I smiled weakly at his joke. I had sent the smart-assed kid to pick up a pizza. He'd been cooking for me for ten days since my return from the hospital. Even though I kicked him out for telling Mikey about my surgery, I let him back in because he cared so much... and he was a big help in the early days. The doc had given me a clean bill-of-health... "99% sure"...that the cancer would not reoccur. Ben called me "the gelding".  "I'll call Charlie at the liquor store,"  I shouted as the door slid shut. "He can't sell you beer, but I told him"... Slam... "that you're  just the delivery boy," I finished quietly. The radiation treatment had been draining; almost worse than the few days after surgery. But, now, I was feeling better. Even my sex drive had mostly returned... with only one testicle.

"Can I see it? Can I feel it? Can I suck on it," he asked. "Oh, I think the fake one is even bigger than the real one." "Your balls are really big, anyway. It's a shame you couldn't bring home the one they removed.  We could have bronzed it, or gilded it, or ground it into hamburger." 

While he was gone, I got out of bed... just wearing my jockstrap to make it easier to use the toilet. The boy had kept the place looking spotless, even without the cleaning service. And he had become a very good cook. Can you believe it? He prepared Coquilles Saint-Jacques on the half-shell [Scallops in a creamy, cheesy sauce, finished under the broiler.] It took a whole day to clean-up from that one.

When he returned with pizza and beer, we ate, sitting on the bed. The box was our table. "I have something to tell you," I said seriously. He looked up quickly and a dark cloud descended over his face.  "No," I said, "It's not bad. But it's serious... and we need to talk about it."  He nodded, "OK." and I continued. "When the doctor told me I had cancer, my first thoughts were of you and Gus." His eyes looked sad. "After the surgery and while I was lying in that hospital bed, I called Melanie... about changing my will. By the way, she was much better at keeping it confidential than Mikey was. She probably told Lindsay,... and that was O.K. But, back to the will... You and Gus will share equally my estate... however paltry it might be... but that includes Babylon, the Loft, my stocks, and my savings."

 "And the Corvette," he said quietly under his breath.   

"You will be his Legal Guardian until he's 18... sharing that duty with Lindsay according to the court settlement. Mel wrote-up a will, I read it, and signed it. Now, don't put Moonflower seeds in my salad, just to collect your legacy." He sat there... it seemed like forever... not knowing what to say.  

"No chunk-of-money can replace you... or bring you back... or make me forget you," he said, with a tear running down his cheek. "I suppose I should be prepared for this. You are so much older..."

"Not that much older," I replied quickly.

We cleared the bed and refrigerated the left-over pizza, then settled back on the bed. "I need to exercise," I said. "I need to exercise my one remaining ball to keep it active," I said with an expanding smile. "Care to join me?"

"Are you sure it's okay? I don't want you to overwork it, or bust a stitch somewhere. You may need training wheels on that thing," he said with a giggle.

"I can tell you it's okay... but I'd rather show you." I reached across the bed, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him closer.  

"I have an idea," said Justin, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's something that I've wanted to do for a while, but we always go for the dramatic fuck. Remember when I jacked-off Chris Hobbs in the equipment room? Well, I could do that to you... maybe with a little tongue and lips... and you could just lie back and experience it. You're still supposed to be resting, so you wouldn't be doing all the humping and bumping... and it would be a different experience for me, because I never get to watch your body and face when we fuck the usual ways. My face is either buried in your pubes or between your legs... and when you fuck me from behind, I can't see you at all. When you fuck me with my knees over your shoulders, my head is back and I'm facing the ceiling... and I'm too dazed to see anything. And here's another thing... when you get close to shooting, you can take over the hand action... and I'll find something else to do to make you enjoy it. Maybe I'll stick a finger up your butt. How's that for an idea?  My right hand has been my best friend all of these days you've been gone." He raised his chin and looked serious... as if he'd just finished writing the Magna Carta.

"Okay... on one condition," I replied. I get to give you a hand-job immediately afterwards. And I have some tricks up my sleeve. Well, I don't really have sleeves right now, but you know what I mean. Oh, and take your coat off... and the rest, too. You were so excited about pizza, you've been wearing your jacket all this time." He stripped... everything... as quick as you can imagine... then walked around the bed and tried to remove my jock. We figured out how to do that. Then he lay beside me... on my left.

He pushed me back onto the bed-pillows. "Fasten your seat belt," he said. I'm gonna watch your face, and if I see any signs of pleasure, I'm gonna double my effort."

His hand gripped around my shaft, stroking slowly... making sure not to bounce my balls too much.  When he'd mastered that, he stroked a bit more vigorously, then bent down to take the glans into his wet lips, letting his mouth just lie there as the tip of my cock slipped imperceptibly in and out, like the first taste of a popsicle. His tongue began to swirl around the tip as his grip tightened. He increased the speed of his ‘milking'. He sped up until his wrist was a blur, then slowed down to a slow pace... faster, then slower, taking me on the roller-coaster ride of his life. Justin worked one finger into my ass, slowly at first, then increasing it's pulsation to match the wrist action. It was only one finger, but it hit all the right spots! He twisted around so he could suck my left nipple, first with his lips, then with his teeth until I was out-of-my-mind crazy. I shoved his stroking hand away rapidly and took over the job. I was so close to a climax. My head rolled back; my pelvis shoved forward as if to make that hand penetrate deeper. The response started somewhere below my navel... that hot, throbbing pressure which signals that a climax is near. It felt as if my butt was in a sling-shot, and I was about to be propelled a hundred yards... up through the roof and into the starry sky. Pressure. Pressure. Surging pressure. Burning through my prostate. Flooding up my urethra. Restrained a bit by my own fingers. Then shooting and flooding over my chest, abs, and pelvis. I think a bit landed on my face, and some on my thighs.

"Ooooo, Daddy made a mess," he mewed as he bent to collect some of my seed on his tongue. And then his cock began to squirt like mine... shooting in no particular direction. We both slowed our stroking; I used my thumb to collect some of my spunk, then rubbed it on his lips.  

"So, did your artificial nut make any prosthetic cum?" He asked as we sank back into our positions.

"It's not as good as sleigh bells or jingle bells, but if you shake ‘em hard enough, they make beautiful music together," I said, catching my breath. "Simultaneous hand-jobs are the best!" he added. "If two guys can pull-it-off together, it's a great experience. No fuss, no mess, no bother."

"I should make you clean up the cum mess with your tongue," I added. "We must have a pint, at least."

"You can keep your legacy, if you want. I just want that at least once a day until my cock shrivels up and falls off."

I checked to see if all my parts were intact.