Read The Ghost and Mr. Moore for Free Online

insulting. He stood
     
there staring at Michael’s thick biceps and large, strong hands. Dexter’s body was aching
     
to be touched by a strong man like Michael. And even though he and Michael were polar
     
opposites, they’d always shared an outrageous erotic connection. But he lifted his chin
     
and said, “I should sit alone. I don’t think your new young lover would like it very much
     
if you put your arm around me. We both have new lives now, Michael.”
     
Michael smiled and shrugged his shoulders. His dark gypsy eyes narrowed. “He’s
     
gone, baby. I’m all over him now, and I’m all alone.”
     
Dexter’s eyebrows went up and his head went back. “I see,” he said. He wondered
     
if the nineteen-year-old had dumped Michael for someone else. But he didn’t ask. It
     
didn’t really matter anymore.
     
Michael patted the empty seat again and said, “Come over here and sit next to me,
     
baby.” Then he yanked down his zipper, pulled out his long, thick penis, and waved it at
     
Dexter. He was baiting him; Michael had never been able to resist his penis.
     
Dexter wet his lips and took a shallow breath. He hadn’t planned on doing
     
anything with Michael. But now that they were alone and Michael’s beautiful penis was
     
right there in front of him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the strong temptation to
     
suck him off. He hadn’t had a man in so long he’d almost forgotten what dick tasted like.
     
While Michael was waving his penis, a gust of wind blew across the porch. It
     
knocked over a potted plant and blew a magazine off the table. The ashtray on the table
     
next to Michael moved. Michael reached forward so it wouldn’t fall on the floor. When
     
he tried to grab the ashtray, the new loveseat lunged forward. The back legs of the loveseat went up, Michael went down on the gray painted floor, and the entire loveseat
     
landed on top of him.
     
Michael shouted for help; he was scrunched up in a ball and he couldn’t move.
     
Dexter ran over and tried to right the loveseat. But it was so heavy and awkward it
     
took him a few minutes to lift it off Michael’s body. He couldn’t understand how
     
something so heavy could just blow over. The wind hadn’t been that strong.
     
When Dexter finally lifted it, he helped Michael to his feet and asked, “Are you
     
okay?”
     
“My dick hurts,” Michael said. He was still holding his penis in his hand.
     
Dexter looked down between Michael’s legs. He stepped forward and said, “Let
     
go of it and let me see.” Michael had always been such a baby about these things. The
     
slightest cut on his finger sent him into a dramatic tailspin.
     
Michael lifted his hand and his heavy penis plopped down against his legs. It
     
hung out from the opening of his jeans. Dexter squatted, leaned in, and frowned. When
     
the loveseat went over, Michael’s penis must have rubbed against the chipped ashtray.
     
There was a long, red slash on the shaft just below the head, and a few drops of blood
     
dripped from the wound. But it didn’t look serious.
     
Michael was terrified; he wouldn’t look down between his legs and his hands
     
started to shake. “What happened?” he asked. “Is my dick okay?”
     
Dexter shook his head and said, “You’re fine. You cut your penis on the chipped
     
ashtray. I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you’re not going to be using your dick for
     
at least a week or two.” For some reason, he smiled when he said this. Then there was another strong gust of wind. It blew the back of Dexter’s hair
     
forward and he thought he heard the sound of distant laughter. Though Marion would
     
have taken pleasure in seeing Michael’s penis damaged, she wasn’t the one laughing.
     
This was the sound of a man laughing, mixed with the sound of blowing wind. Dexter
     
figured it was one of his neighbors or someone down on Commercial Street.
     
After that, Dexter