Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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This is a sequel to "Guilty Christmas Lights" but it can be read independently or this one can be read before that one if you like.
"Happy Birthday dear Edward..."
"Happy Birthday to you..."
........ Oh shit.
I didn't really have time to feel the guilt I should have felt. David had his arms around me from behind holding me tightly, his head on my shoulder and he was singing along with everyone else. I wondered for a moment if he was holding me so tightly as a sign of affection or to prevent my escape.
I'd never been thrown a surprise party before and I was genuinely surprised (read shocked). It was Christmas-eve-eve and my birthday is actually Boxing Day. David had floated the idea of a birthday party for me on Christmas-eve-eve weeks before but than talked himself and me out of it (the liar). There was a lot going on. Christmas Eve dinner with my foster family, Christmas Day up the coast with his family and a birthday party with my foster family on Boxing Day as well as David (if he is to be believed) having an important university summer school essay to finish. (We are in Brisbane Australia so Christmas is in the middle of Summer here). He'd said instead that he'd take me out for a quiet romantic dinner to celebrate my birthday later.
I'd been taken to live with my grandparents when I was a little kid after my parents were convicted of armed robbery and GBH and sent to prison, but it was out of the frying pan into the fire. My mother's parents were just as bad as mine. We lived out in the outskirts of Sydney; a mix of small farms and new housing estates as suburbia slowly encroached. They grew flowers in long semi-circular greenhouses to be sold at market for florists. Though the green houses were mainly filled with varieties of Rosa Hybrida, the back halves of seven and eight were filled with pots of Cannabis Sativa.
But I wish they had kept some for themselves because they were both extremely tense, aggressive and violent people. On top of that my grandfather was an alcoholic. Weirdly they went to church every Sunday. I don't want to talk too much about my life with them and sometimes I still tell myself that it was my fault as much as it was theirs despite the fact that various counsellors and psychologists have tried to drum into my head that it wasn't.
I didn't go to school very often. Sometimes because I didn't want to, sometimes because my grandmother wouldn't let me go until the bruises faded. I'd run away many times but always come back on my own after a day or two because I didn't know where to go or what to do. My grandparents never reported me missing for obvious reasons.
Finally I ran away for good. I took the train in to downtown Sydney. There are lots of homeless people there. I kind of made friends with some of them. They looked after me as best they could, found me books to read, somewhere to sleep, but they all had their own problems. I'd had to outrun the cops a few times after people had reported me begging at Wynyard station and being obviously too young to be on my own. Finally I was caught.
I thought I would be taken to the police station and locked up until my grandparents came to get me but I was taken straight to a hospital. They took blood tests, x-rays, let me have a hot shower and then gave me something to eat. I thought it was very strange but I was so grateful. I was hungry.
Only after I'd eaten did a psychologist come to talk to me. The x-rays showed that a bone in my arm had been fractured a while ago and it had healed naturally but slightly out of alignment. I remembered that. She asked me about it. I told her everything. Every single thing. I knew that the big mirror on the wall was probably one-way and that someone, probably the police would be behind it, listening, probably recording. I didn't care.
A few weeks later it was on the news. My grandparents had been arrested as well as some big drug kingpin bikie gang leader who had been caught buying their crop. They were charged with a lot of things. They were in to more than I knew. They were also charged with child neglect. I didn't have to testify in court. I was too young anyway but it was decided that it would be better if I left Sydney. I even got to change my surname.
So I moved here to Brisbane. I was bounced around for a while before finally being introduced to Gladys and Adam, my new foster parents. I don't know if it was because I was mentally mature enough or because of them, probably a combination of both, but we just clicked. There are six other kids, all much younger than me but who have all been through very much the same as I have. I think it only took me a week to fall in love with them all. I still had problems but my whole body and mind screamed "finally a home!".
That surprise party was for my nineteenth birthday. I'd technically been out of foster care for a year but I wouldn't dream of leaving. Nearly everything I earned in my part-time job as a cleaner at the mall went to the kids. To give them things I never had myself growing up.
That was three years ago but I still have problems opening up to people. There remained a hard shell around my heart. I was seeing a psychologist every month and I still do less often. Then six months ago I met David. I was going to a college for mature age students and people in my situation where I could catch up on my school QCE with only a year of study. Some of the people in my class organised a camping trip for a few days during the break. A few friends and relatives tagged along. David was one of them.
I will write another story about that trip some time. I'd never related to another person sexually. This sounds really bad but the only person I'd been sexually attracted to, that I'd had sex with in a sense, was myself. I didn't know I was gay. I'd assumed without evidence that I was straight. We couldn't keep our eyes off each other. I moved into his tent. I lost my virginity with him. Completely. We sucked each other. We fucked each other. I swallowed his sperm. He swallowed mine. I came inside his arse. He came inside mine.
But as I said in the previous story, we'd never discussed monogamy though we referred to each other as boyfriends. He'd asked me to get tested, to go on prep. I did, but why did he ask? I'd been with other guys since then, mainly quickies in the staff toilets of the mall where I work. But I love him. I feel gratitude to him.
And then I'd fallen too hard for his lies that I realised now were just to trick to get me out of his flat for the surprise birthday partly. I'd been pissed off. He'd promised to come walking with me to see the Christmas lights on the houses in his neighbourhood. It was the last night possible. He told me to go by myself because he had a stupid essay to finish. I only made it around the corner before a hot sparky named Brad up a ladder fixing the lights on his house had dropped his screwdriver and called out to me to give him a hand. One thing led to another, then another, then I was on my knees, bent over his sofa, with his alarmingly large penis up my arse.
So when the singing ended, the laughing and clapping at my stunned expression died down, I said,
"Thanks guys," then twisted around in David's arms and kissed him.
"You arsehole," I said smiling into his face as I broke the kiss but I knew I was the arsehole. (In fact I could still feel the ache there after being well and truly stretched not long earlier by Brad.) We kissed again and everyone laughed and clapped.
All of my friends from my QCE class were there. David's older sister Beck was one of them and she had probably contacted them, though we were all mutual FB friends. I'd become friends with some of David's friends too. Dangerously Fareed was there with another cleaner from my work. (Fareed is a hot young Lebanese security guard at the mall who despite being married has fucked me a few times in the staff toilets.) David must have contacted him via FB too.
We were all packed into David's small flat almost like sardines. I mingled from group to group with a beer in my hand though I still hadn't completely got over Brad's vodka and cranberry. David and Beck were mostly in the kitchen getting frozen canapΓ©s in and out of the oven and then bringing them out.
Occasionally there was a buzz on the intercom. David ran from the kitchen and pressed the button to allow some late-comer in though the downstairs door, then we would wait in anticipation for the new arrival to press the doorbell.
I thought I knew everyone at the party but when I followed David into the kitchen to get a glass of water and to spend some time with him, I saw a guy lurking in there, helping with the cooking. He looked very familiar and for a second it played with my mind because I couldn't remember who he was.