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I took Jase to school the first day to be sure that all his paper work was in order. We went to the office where the kind lady behind the desk asked another student to take Jase and show him around to his first classes. As it turned out, it was pretty much limited to orientation and purchasing books, and by ten o'clock we were on our way to buy school supplies.

"You can drive yourself to school tomorrow," I told him. He was happy about that.

His second day went well, but the coach wouldn't let him wear the Navy SEAL PT shorts or the T-shirt for gym class. Jase wasn't happy about that. He said if he was going to his dad's old school, he was sure they would let him wear the shorts. It made me sort of wish I'd settled in Jason's home town so the boy could go to his old school. He made some new friends, though, in gym class.

"Listen, Jase, you be careful of any new friends you make in the locker room, they'll wanta be your friend for only one reason," I kidded him, laughing.

On Thursday of the first week of school, Jase didn't come home on time. After well over an hour I was ready to go to the school and check on him. I didn't want to cause him any embarrassment, but he needed to learn to call if he was going to be late. I was just ready to go out the door when he pulled up. I vowed that I would be firm, but not angry. I was surprised when I saw him walking from the barn where he parked the Jeep; he wasn't wearing his school clothes, he was wearing his tan pajama pants and a white T-shirt and sneakers, and carrying Jason's athletic jacket. I didn't realize he'd found it. I couldn't help glancing at the front of his pants; thankful that he obviously had on a jockstrap that created a very impressive bulge, but the outline of his cock wasn't showing. I made a show of looking at my watch as he came up to the porch.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said.

"Sorry won't cut it next time. We had this conversation once, Jase. You call," I said sternly.

"Yes, sir, I will. But before you ground me, let me explain."

"Okay, what's the delay getting home? Did you have detention or something?" I didn't ask why he was wearing the pajama pants.

"No, I….." He took in a deep breath with his head down, then looked up at me. I was standing on the porch, he on the bottom step. "I didn't go to school today."

"You skipped school? Why?"

"Well, I went, but then I left after first period," he said. "I went to visit my dad's grave. Then I went to his school."

I was completely taken aback, so that I was unable to speak for a moment.

"I know I should have told you, and I should've called," he said, apologetically, as he came up two more steps.

"No, it's….it's okay, Jase….this time," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"I found his jacket in my closet the other day and I wanted to go back to his school, and wear it. And I wanted to be who he was when he left Vietnam," he said, tugging on the waistband of his pajama pants.

"I apologize again for suggesting you get rid of them," I said. "Did you wear them to school?"

"Yes, I changed at school. Everybody liked them. The girls said they show off my butt. Then the guys all wanted to know where they could get a pair."

"Maybe you should start a business, that's the second time somebody asked where they could get a pair," I said. When he didn't go on, I prodded him. "You were telling me about your day."

"Yeah. Well, I sat on his headstone and drank a Coke and talked to him. It's the first time I ever did that….talked to him. I've thought about him a lot, but I never actually talked to him. It was weird, 'cause it was like he was actually listening. I could feel him listening."

I smiled, choking down my own emotions because Jase was so at ease in telling me this. "I've done that," I said. "I used to go there and take two beers. I would drink one and leave the other one on his headstone." He smiled. "You said you went to his old school?"

"Yes, I didn't know if I should, or if they would even let me in, especially wearing these," he said, looking down at his pants. "But they did. A teacher took me to the office and I told them who I was and I just wanted to visit my father's old school. I was also wearing the jacket, and right away the office lady called the coach to see if he was busy and he came up to meet me. He was real nice. He was pretty young, though. He showed me around the school, showed me the trophy case, and even took me down to the locker room and showed me Dad's locker and his jersey and helmet and his old jockstrap. I didn't tell him I'd already been there and seen all of that; I didn't want to spoil it. Then he had me hang around till the bell rang and there was a PE class and guys started coming into the locker room. We stayed in his office and several guys came in to talk to him about stuff, but I knew it was just to check me out, like they thought I was a new kid starting school. When they were all dressed for PE, the coach took me out into the locker room and introduced me to everyone."

"I was a little embarrassed, but real proud. It was real neat. Everybody was real friendly, shaking my hand and everything. Seems like everybody knows about my dad. Then one of the guys said I should do PE class with them. I didn't have any gear, except I was wearing a jockstrap under my pants, but guys offered to loan me PE shorts and shirt. So I did it. When I was changing, I used Dad's locker. I hung his jacket in it and my clothes right alongside his jersey. It was a weird feeling, but a proud one. I was about to pull on the PE shorts one of the guys loaned me when he stopped me. He said, 'Huh-uh, take off your jockstrap.' Then he took Dad's jockstrap out his locker and handed it to me and told me I should wear it. So I did. I know we don't think it's really his, but I imagined maybe he did wear it once or twice, and it was a good feeling putting it on, especially in front of those guys. They all stood around and watched me, like it was a sacred ritual of some kind."

I laughed. "I expect some of them were watching you as more than a ritual," I said.

He smiled, embarrassed again. "Well, yeah, there were a couple of remarks about how I filled out my Dad's jock," he said. "The coach said he wished I'd come to that school, and some of the guys did too. Afterwards, I wasn't going to shower because I didn't have a towel, but everybody just assumed I would shower and a lot of them offered me towels."

"I'll bet they did," I said. "You were their connection to a legend."

"It was a great day. I think I made some new friends," he said.

"Good. I'm glad you went."

"Sorry I didn't call. You can ground me if you want."

"Don't worry about it. I know you weren't thinking about calling me," I said, putting my arm around him as he came up on the porch.

"I felt really close," he said.

"You'll have good dreams tonight," I said.

"I wore my old pants, like that guy at the store said," he said again, tugging on the waistband.

"Yes, I noticed."

"A lot of kids liked them," he said, smiling. "Some girls said I looked sexy in them."

"Be wary of girls who say you look sexy," I said, laughing.

"Wary….I didn't learn that word. What does it mean?"

"Be suspicious of girls who say things like that; they just want your body."

"They can have my body," he joked.

I had marked Jase's birthday on the calendar in my room; October 1^st. The exact date of his birth couldn't be determined for certain, and his birth was recorded simply as October at the orphanage, so I had picked that day at random to be put on his papers so it was now considered his official birth date. I wondered later if I had subconsciously chosen the earliest day in October because that made him eighteen sooner but I couldn't remember thinking that at the time. I asked him about a party but he declined. I was a little surprised; I thought he would jump on the idea of a party. But he said he didn't know enough kids well enough yet and it would be awkward, and even embarrassing if not many showed up. I didn't believe that would ever happen but we celebrated quietly by ourselves. I took him out to dinner and gave him a credit card as a gift. He didn't know what it was for, and it was received with somewhat of a what-the-hell-is-this look.

"It's like money, so you don't have to carry money," I explained. "But it's only for gas and emergencies, like if the Jeep breaks down and you have to be towed, or if you need something at school. It's not for buying hamburgers and fries or movie tickets, dates, things like that. You carry money for those things."

He still didn't understand. He looked at the card, front and back, as if there might be a better explanation printed there. "So when I buy gas, I just give them this card and my gas is free?"

"No, no, it's not free," I said, laughing. "You give them the card, they record how much gas you bought and they send me a bill at the end of the month and I pay for everything you bought for the month."

He nodded, smiling. I could tell he liked the idea, but he still didn't fully understand how it worked.

"I was planning on your eighteenth birthday being more exciting," I told him.

"I'm in the United States, that's exciting enough for me," he said.

How many teenagers, I wondered, could feel that much appreciation for the privilege of living in the United States.

"I have something else," I said, reaching into my pocket. I put my hand on the table and opened it.

"I thought I'd lost that, and I was scared to tell you!" Jase blurted as he took the polished shell casing from my hand and held it up by the chain.

"I'm sorry I worried you. You didn't lose it. I took it from your room. I noticed you carried it all the time, I thought it would look good on a chain around your neck; since you gave back the dog-tag and the necklace."

"Thank you! It's really nice," he said excitedly.

Jase went to bed happy. I went to bed struggling with the fact that he was now eighteen years old.

Travis and I made contact again and I had him as a guest over a couple more weekends and we were growing more and more comfortable in each other's company. I had accepted that he was an incurable straight…. it was part of the attraction….and I was happy in my role as an incurable bottom for him. I wasn't a bottom for everyone, but I was for guys like him. Other times, when I visited the gay clubs, I was a top. Jase was becoming comfortable with Travis as well, and, I learned, was figuring us out.

He told me one time after Travis had left on Sunday evening, "Next time, instead of sending Travis to sleep in the spare bedroom…. I know you're doing that on my account….why don't you guys just sleep in the same bed."

I shouldn't have been that surprised to learn that he was so astute, but I was taken aback that he said it. But I wasn't ready to be so open about our relationship, if what Travis and I had could be defined as such. Still, shaken as I was at Jase's sudden astuteness, I was sort of glad he was catching on. But I didn't want to discuss it.

Jase had gone out for football and made the team. He came home after his first practice with a tight, almost mischievous smile as he walked in.

"And that smile is for?" I asked.

"I told you the coach wouldn't let me wear the Navy SEAL PT shorts and T-shirt."

"Yeah? Did he change his mind?"

"No, but he said okay to the jockstrap. First, when he saw me in it, he told me I needed to throw it away and get a new one but I told him I wanted to wear it because it was my Dad's. He gave me sort of a screwy look, like he thought that was weird, but then he sort of laughed and told me okay, as long as it held up."

"Your dad would be proud that you're wearing it," I said.

"I think he would be more proud of this," he said, as he dug in his gym bag and brought out his practice jersey. "Look, I got my Dad's number, twenty-nine," he said, holding it up with great pride.

"No kidding? That's great!"

"Yeah, it's real cool."

"He's gotta be smiling down about now. Only thing is, it's not just an honor; wearing that number is a responsibility. He was a hell of an athlete."

"I know. I told them it was my Dad's number, and not even knowing my Dad, they're gonna be expecting me to fill out his jersey, and I don't know if I can do that?"

"He's frowning about now," I said. "You're not competing with him, Jase; he would tell you you're competing only with yourself.

Jase treated the sport like one of his classes. He knew nothing about the game so he actually studied football and asked me to grill him on it. I think by the time we were finished, he knew the high school football rulebook by heart, probably better than the referees. He'd already been working out in the weight room I set up for him but he took a renewed interest in that. He bought bodybuilding and fitness magazines every month and asked me to help him make up a real workout routine. I went a step further. I went to a health food store and bought him some protein and energy bars, and protein shake mixes.

He took to working out like he did everything else physical and his body responded quickly. Once he learned his way around the weights, he began working out at school more, but he also used his weights at home from time to time.

One time I heard the clanking and grunting upstairs as he was working out, then all was quiet. I went upstairs to check on him and found him standing in front of the mirrors, naked, with a raging, throbbing hardon. My Godd, I thought, he was Jason's son all right. I watched from his door for a moment as he admired himself from all angles. I could see that he was putting on muscle, and he was taking note of it too. Then as he was turning to check out his butt he saw me.

"Oh," he gasped, and his face started to turn red.

"Looking good," I said, to put him at ease.

"I was just checking myself out," he said. "Look at this," he said as he held out his arm to show me the bluish vein running down his bicep. "And this," he said, pointing to the veins along his lower abs.

"Yeah, the girls are gonna love that," I said, eyeing his huge cock. "Yeah, they're gonna like those veins too," I added, laughing.

"Man, I get this way almost every time I work out at home," he said, indicating his hardon.

"Do you have that problem when you work out at school?" I asked.

"No, thank God. I think it's probably because there are other guys around and they keep me distracted from having thoughts like I have here at home."

"Or your body knows it's okay to react any way it wants when you're here by yourself," I said. I didn't ask about the thoughts he was having.

"Maybe if I wore sweat pants and a sweat shirt," he said.

"Don't worry about it. You've got a great looking body. You should be proud of it," I said.

"I am but I want to make him proud," he said, nodding to the poster of his dad I'd had made.

The next time he worked out he asked me to work out with him. We hadn't done that before. He never suggested it and I didn't want to intrude into his space. And, I didn't trust myself. He wore his dad's jockstrap and insisted that I wear mine; he thought perhaps like Jason and I used to do. And if it was okay, that's all we would wear. Of course! But I didn't wear my old one. Instead, I wore the lace-up jockstrap that I'd bought from the young escort, Justin.

"Wow, where'd you get that?" he asked when I came into his workout room.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's awesome. That'd look great in the locker room. Nobody else would have one like it."

I had to smile that he was concerned with "style" in the locker room. "You can have it," I told him.

His turning eighteen had put things in a whole new perspective and the workout was almost more than I could take. My nerves were on edge.

His stature and good looks made him a hit with the girls, and being an athlete made him even more popular. I was proud and happy when he told me he wanted to ask a girl to go out on a date. His first real date, he said.

"What about that girl you took swimming?" I asked.

"That wasn't really a date. I mean, we didn't really go anyplace, except the river."

"Where are you taking this girl?"

"A movie, I guess, but….well, I've never been to a movie theater, but I hear that's where you usually go on a date," he said.

I hadn't thought about taking him to a movie. It'd been a while since I'd had a reminder of things that the boy wasn't familiar with; things that I took for granted. I watched movies on television but seldom went to the theater. Part of it was I still didn't like being in a crowd of people.

"Well, we'll go to a movie and you can learn… I'll be your date," I joked. "Just don't put your arm around me or try to kiss me," I added, laughing.

So we went to the movie. I stood aside while he bought the tickets and then bought us popcorn and cokes. I led the way into the theater but told him that with the girl, he should lead the way, and maybe take her arm to take her to their seats.

He asked jokingly if he could put his arm around me.

"Sure, but if word gets around, that girl's not going to go out with you," I joked back.

Driving home, he asked if there was anything else he should know.

"Anything else you should know, you'll figure it out," I said with a smile.

"That's not a very good answer; I was asking a serious question," he said.

"All right, sorry. But you need to be more specific about what you want to know," I said.

"Well, like, should I kiss her goodnight when I take her home? Or try to kiss her in the movie theater?"

"Jase, those are questions I can't answer. You need to play it by ear."

"What's that mean, I should play with her ears?" he asked with a scowl.

I laughed, but not too hard. "No, no. Play it by ear means….. well, you have to sort of figure things out as you go. If you put your arm around her in the theater and maybe she sort of snuggles up to you, well that means she likes being close to you. She would probably let you kiss her. Just watch for little signals like that."

"Can I ask you a dumb question?"

"No, I don't take dumb questions," I said, then added, "But the only dumb questions are those that aren't asked."

"What's making out? I've heard guys talking about making out with girls and I think I kinda know but I'm too embarrassed to ask."

I couldn't help a good laugh over that one.

"See, it was dumb," he said.

"No, it wasn't. I'm not laughing at you, Jase, I'm laughing at myself. I never dreamed I would be fielding these kinds of questions. Unless the definition has changed since I was your age, making out is kissing and feeling, everything just short of having sex."

"Do think she will she expect us to have sex?" he asked.

I tried not to appear surprised.

"How old is the girl? What grade is she in?" I asked.

"She's a sophomore," he said.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Yes, only……" He cut himself off sharply and shifted his eyes downward.

I felt bad that I'd asked the question and put him on the spot, and I tried to come to his rescue.

"You've had a lot more life experiences than most of your classmates, Jase, just not the same kind of experiences. I can't speak for the girl. I'm sure she would be tempted to let you have sex with her but keep in mind that she's younger than you and quite possibly a virgin. All I can say is, you'll have to play that by ear, but I wouldn't push it. Give yourself time to get to know people. Trust me, when the time comes, you won't be hurting for sex."

"But what if she wants it? What if she lets me know that? The girl I took to the river did, but I was scared to do anything."

That surprised me that he was scared, considering all he had been through in his earlier years. "Well, I still think you should get to know her better first, but like I said, you'll have to play it by ear. You do remember our little talk about condoms," I reminded him.

"Yes, of course, but I don't have any," he said.

"Oh? Didn't I give you some to put in the glove compartment, the time you had that girl down by the river? Or did you use them?"

"Yes, but I….well, it wasn't with a girl, but I used them.…to jack off," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wanted to….well, practice, putting them on, and see how they feel."

"Jase, back in your own country, when you….when you were on the streets...didn't you use condoms?"

"Yeah, but honestly, I never put one on myself."

I smiled and then laughed. "Well, you know where I keep mine," I said.

"It's okay with you, then, if I have sex with her?" he asked.

"I think we've had this conversation, Jase. No, I'm not telling you it's okay, I'm not saying it's not okay. That's not my decision. You are the one who has to be in control of those circumstances. I just want to make sure you keep yourself safe," I said. Then I reached out and ran my hand on the side of his face. "You need to shave before you take this girl out," I said.

"I don't shave, except once in a while," he said, brushing my hand away with a look of embarrassment.

"And it shows." I made a right turn and pulled into a drug store half way down the block.

"Where're we going?"

"To the drug store to buy you a razor," I said.

We went in and found the men's department. I picked out several razors for him to choose from, and some shaving cream. We moved down the aisle and I told him to pick out some aftershave he liked. He tried several of the samplers and picked out Aqua Velva, of all things. I didn't say anything. If he liked it, I was sure the girls would.

At end of the aisle was the condom display. I stopped and he stepped back with me.

"What?" he asked.

"This might be a good time to check these out," I said.

It took him a moment to realize what the display was, then he laughed softly and looked all around, as if to see if anyone was watching. I took a three pack of Magnum Extra Large off the rack and handed them to him. "I don't know if you know, but they come in different sizes," I said.

"Yes, I know, but how do you know I need extra large?"

I laughed. "Well, you are your father's son, and I've seen you with a hardon. But just in case those are too big, get some of these for good measure," I said as I took a pack of just Large off the rack and handed it to him.

He dropped his head with an embarrassed smile.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I don't need these," he said, putting the pack of large size condoms back on the rack. In a lower voice, he said, "That's the reason I used the others that you gave me to jack off, to see how they would fit."

"All right. Good." I took the three pack of Magnum Extra Large, put them back on the rack and got a pack of a dozen.

"A dozen? I don't need that many," he said.

"Since we use the same size, I think it makes sense to start buying them by the dozen," I said.

He smiled then laughed, shaking his head. "Do you think I would be standing here having this conversation with my Dad if he were alive?"

"Without question. And probably a lot sooner."

We'd picked up a shopping basket to use and I handed it to him. He didn't take it at first.

"You're going to check out," I said, thrusting the basket at him.

"You mean I'm gonna buy these?"

"If you're going to use them, you're going to buy them," I said. He took the basket and when we got to the checkout I didn't go through the line with him. Instead, I went on and waited at the front of the store. He didn't seem at all embarrassed, for which I was proud. He didn't notice, either, how the young man at the checkout was taking notice of the box of condoms and checking him out.

I kidded him about it. "You made a big hit back there with the guy at the checkout," I said.

"I did? I didn't notice," he said.

"He looked like he was ready to throw himself on the counter and let you have your way with him. He especially appreciated that you were buying Magnum Extra Large condoms."

Jase spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready for his date but the results were stunning. He came downstairs wearing jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and high and tight butt, and a blue and yellow striped T-shirt that fit him like a glove.

"Damn, you believe in showing it off, don't you?" I joked.

"What do you mean?" he asked, in a serious tone, looking down at himself. "This isn't right for a date?" he asked.

"It's perfect for a date, but don't count on getting to the movie."

"Why not? I don't understand," he said.

"Didn't you look at yourself in the mirror? That girl is going to be all over you before you get pulled away from the curb."

He laughed then. "Aww, Brad, it's just the way I'm put together, I can't help it," he said, with an embarrassed grin.

"Right. Like you're not helping it by working out to build up those muscles even more," I scoffed.

"That's for sports," he said.

"Bullshit."

I was surprised how nervous he was when it came time to leave and pick up the girl. I soon learned part of the reason for his nervousness.

"If she does want to have sex, Brad, where would I go for that? Should I bring her back here?"

"Absolutely not!" I said emphatically. "I really don't know where teenagers go for sex these days, but not here. Anyway, I think you're worrying too much about it. I think you should just go to the movie and have fun. When you get to know people better at school, you'll be able to talk to other guys about that stuff."

"Do I have a curfew since I'm eighteen?" he asked.

"Do you need one?" I asked.

"I don't think so," he said.

"Enough said."

When he had gone, I went upstairs. Passing by the bathroom, I noticed that the razor on the sink wasn't the one I'd bought for him. It was Jason's razor that he'd found in his Dad's shaving gear. The one I'd bought hadn't even been opened.

As I went past the open door of his room I stopped and stepped back. On the walls were pieces of military gear, Jason's web belt, canteen, and all the stuff that I had shipped back. He had gone through Jason's duffle bag.

I lay in bed thinking about Jason the elder, where I had come in my life without him, and about the younger version of him who I was now responsible for. "So you left me to lie awake and worry about him," I muttered quietly.

I had not told Jase that he had to check in when he came in after his date but he came to my door after coming quietly up the stairs.

"Brad, are you awake?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"I hope you didn't stay awake, waiting up for me," he said as came into the room.

"I did," I said, as I moved over to make room for him to sit on the bed.

"You don't need to do that. Remember where I came from," he said.

"Let's don't even have that conversation," I said. "I'll worry till you're home as long as you're living under my roof, no matter how old you are."

"I won't wake you when I come in," he said.

"Yes, you will," I said. "I didn't tell you this, but even though you don't have a curfew, you have to come in and wake me to let me know you're home safe and sound."

"All right."

"How'd it go?" I asked.

"It was great. We went to the movie, then walked around the mall, saw some kids we knew, and we hung out. We didn't go anywhere else."

"See, it doesn't have to always be about sex," I said.

"Yeah, we had fun. But now I'm horny," he said.

"And you have no clue how to take care of that," I joked.

"No, you wanta show me?" he joked back.

"Get away from me, and go jack off," I said, laughing.

"Speaking of that, I was wondering….going to ask you….we're so open and up front about everything, I was wondering if it'd be okay if I kept porn in my room."

I did a little guffaw, then laughed. "Jase, I don't think that's quite the way it usually works. I mean, boys hide porn in their rooms, they don't ask if they can have it."

He shrugged. "I just didn't feel the need to hide anything from you, and I would rather not," he said.

"Well, if you hadn't asked, and even if I'd said no, you would probably find someplace to hide it anyway. But tell me, where do you get porn these days?"

"Guys at school have it….magazines and books….they pass it around," he said.

"One condition," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"You have to share whatever you bring in the house."

He laughed and punched at me. "That's a deal, if you share yours," he said.

"I don't have porn. My porn is up here," I said, tapping my head.

He stood up. "Thanks, Brad," he said.

"Don't mention it. Just don't forget to share," I said.

"No, thanks for worrying about me." He lingered for a second or two, then he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead as he squeezed my shoulder. "I love you, Brad."

I was taken aback by his sudden display of affection. I automatically brought my arms up around his shoulders and he hugged me with one arm.

"I love you, Jase."

He held the embrace and I thought, if he doesn't raise up….but then he did and I was safe.

"G'night," he said.

"G'night, Jase. Don't forget to jack off," I added. He flipped me off.

Jase was true to his word. A few days later, I found two girlie magazines on my bed.

I quickly discovered that I was more prepared to be a father than a housekeeper to a teenager. We shared kitchen duties, like doing the dishes and sometimes Jase prepared one of his famous Vietnamese meals, and we went to the grocery store together. But the rest of the house seemed to go begging. With a little more effort and organization, we could've done it ourselves, but I finally hired a woman to help out. Not a full time, live-in maid, but someone to come in a couple of days a week to clean and change the beds and do the laundry if it was piled up. Rosita didn't like my washer and dryer so she took our laundry home with her and brought it back along with the ironing on the second day. She was a fiery little Spanish woman of thirty something, with a bright smile and a personality to match. She was a little on the hefty side but beautiful in the face.

I hadn't noticed or given much thought to young Jase's private sexual urges. I knew he jacked off to the girlie magazines like all teenage boys but I never gave a thought to where all that boy cum ended up. It just never occurred to me. Till one day when I went into his workout room. I was going over his workout log that I'd made up for him, checking his progress, when I noticed the mirrors and the cloudy streaks and smears on them. I broke out laughing. It was cum! The young stud was jacking off, watching himself, and shooting his loads all over the mirrors, and hadn't done a good job cleaning it up. Then I got another stark eye opener one day when Rosita came with the baskets of laundry and freshly ironed clothes. As always, I helped her carry the baskets in and upstairs.

"That boy of yours, he is like a randy pony," she said as I was following her up the stairs.

I had come to know how out spoken Rosita was and I liked that about her, but I was taken aback by her remark about Jase.

"What? Has he said something? Or tried something?" I asked, not believing that he would have the balls to try to put the make on her.

"No, no, no, he would never do that," she said, laughing heartily. "What he does by himself, I'm talking 'bout."

I knew what she was talking about and I was suddenly embarrassed. She wasn't. She was very matter of fact.

"Hees shorts, hees T-shirts, the towels and sheets, the peellowcases, sometimes eeeven his socks. Sometimes I have to pry them apart. And I have to boil everything in bleach water to get the stains out. I don't know what you feedin' him but he like four or five teenage boys all in one."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Rosita, I will speak to him," I said, hoping my embarrassment wasn't as obvious as I felt. I wanted to crawl in a hole.

"Pleese do," she said. "I understand theese theengs, I had three brothers, but my daughter….she helps with the laundry and ironing, and she does not need to know about such things about boys yet."

"I will speak to him," I assured her. "If I had known……"

She gave me a smiling scowl that broke into laughter. "If you had known? You were a teenager."

"Yes, I was. I'm sorry, Rosita. I will……"

"You will speak to heeem," she finished for me

When I paid her that day, I added a big tip. She smiled with appreciation, fully aware of the reason for it. I spoke to Jase that evening in blunt terms. He was working out, clad in sneakers and a pair of onionskin running shorts with no jock underneath. I went in and sat on the end of the bench while he was doing squats with a pretty hefty amount of weight on the barbell. It was a wonderful sight, seeing his powerful thighs bulging and rippling under the weight as he pushed up, and his thick manhood hanging out one leg of the shorts when he went down in the squat position. He thought I was just watching him work out till he racked the barbell.

"I had a talk with Rosita today," I began. "Actually, she had a talk with me, about the laundry."

He looked at me, with a look between blank and questioning.

"There's a little problem we need to take care of," I said.

"What kind of a little problem," he asked.

"Well, actually, it's apparently a pretty big problem," I said.

"All right, what kind of big problem?"

"Well, Rosita says she practically has to pry your shorts and T-shirts and the pillowcases apart, and she's having trouble getting the stains out."

He turned a little pale, his mouth hanging open. "She told you that?"

"Yes. Rosita is pretty outspoken," I said.

"Oh, damn, I am so embarrassed, I'll never be able to look at her again."

"Rosita's a big girl, with three brothers, but she shouldn't have to deal with that here," I said. The poor kid's face had turned red with embarrassment. "Don't worry, we'll take care of it. I want you to pick up some extra hand towels next time you're at the mall. I want you to keep a stack of towels in your room, and you can run them through the washer yourself."

He seemed quite relieved at my solution. "And what the fuck is this?" I went on with a tight, mischievous grin, motioning to the mirrors he was standing in front of. "You need to use Windex to clean your mirrors; water doesn't cut through cum."

He dropped his head, further embarrassed, and I started laughing.

"Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, but you really should clean the mirrors better, before you have to explain it to your friends," I said. "And believe me, they'll figure it out."

He laughed with me, shaking his head. "You know….it's gonna sound perverted, but sometimes, watching myself, seeing my muscles bulge and ripple, and I read in the magazines that lifting heavy weights increases testosterone, and sometimes I get this tingling feeling between my legs and I just gotta relieve it."

"Why would that be perverted?" I asked.

"It's like having sex with myself," he said.

"You are having sex with yourself. That's not perverted. Hell, hundreds of millions of guys do that every day," I said.

"But it's like I'm my own partner, watching myself jack off."

"It's not perverted, Jase," I assured him. "You've got a beautiful body. Nothing wrong with getting turned on by it. Be proud of it, and enjoy it."

"You are the coolest guy, Brad. You understand everything," he said

"Hey, well I've been there, done that," I said.