Author: admin

One of the really funny things about life is that when you’re up to your neck in shit, you get used to the smell.

The last six years had been exactly that, each day worse than the day before.  And all during that time, I had done everything I needed to do and had functioned one day at a time.  Now, it was all catching up with me.

*          *          *          *          *          *

I had come to New York City as soon as I was 18, my head filled with dreams of overnight Broadway stardom.  Within two weeks I had already discovered that I had maybe 10% of the talent I’d credited myself with and that I was a babe in the woods as far as city life goes.  I was a gay red-dirt Georgia farm boy and not much else.  In another two weeks, I’d be stony broke.

I’d gone to a bar that night to drown my sorrows.  In Georgia, we didn’t have local gay bars so I didn‘t know what I was getting into.  But, when I saw a whole trail of good looking guys going into this particular bar, I decided to follow.  That was how I met Casey.

There’s no other way to describe him than as a nerd.  He even had on thick, heavy framed glasses when I met him.  I thought he was attractive and even better; he was nice to me, a veritable first in that town.  He was shy and so was I but somehow we ended up leaving together.  As I’ve said, I was 18.  He was 30.

I’m no Adonis but I was in pretty good shape from a life of farm work.  I also have a pretty nice cock.  Casey had begun spending time at a gym by then, so he was also in pretty good shape under his nerdy clothes.  And, he also had a nice cock.

After that first night, we were together for twenty years.  Seven years in, we discovered that Casey had a hereditary genetic illness that no one survives.  It had a slow progression but it was 100% fatal.  He tried to convince me to leave him and find someone else.  I told him he’d die a lot sooner if he kept talking that way because I’d be forced to kill him.

We were as perfect for each other as two people can possibly be.  I did everything for him that needed doing and when the time came, he died in my arms.

*          *          *          *          *          *

Now, six months after his death, I was a veritable zombie.  Grief was a weight that I couldn’t shift and I barely ate.  I got out of bed to use the bathroom and rarely any other time.

Casey had made me his sole heir.  He came from a wealthy family and I would never lack funds.  He had also left me his apartment, a sleek modern condo in a 5 star building that cost more in condo fees than most people made back home per year.

 

I was so dumb that the morning after our first night together, I asked him what a room like his rented for.  I thought we were in a hotel because he told me the maid would take care of the dirty linens.  I never even realized that the condo had a kitchen, another bedroom, a media room and a storage room besides the living room and bedroom that I’d already seen.  Casey, instead of laughing at my hayseed ways, delighted in them.

I hated the condo.  Even when we were both living there, it was all to his taste.  As I lay in bed entangled in dirty sheets, I realized that I had to get away or I’d die.  Fear of death is a good motivator.

I got myself out of bed, showered and went to see our lawyer.  I told him that I wanted to sell the condo and move away from the city to some place more like the town I grew up in.  He, in turn, hooked me up with a real estate woman who was only too happy to have a luxury condo on her books.  The bad thing was, she had absolutely no concept of what a small house in a small town was.  Her idea of small town was The Hamptons.

That afternoon I bought myself a used Ford Focus.  With it, I started driving myself out of the city and along the coast.  If I arrived at a town and it looked promising, I’d find a motel and then talk to whatever local real estate agents I could find.  After two months of that, I still hadn’t found what I was looking for.

I was on my way back to the city one afternoon when I took a wrong turn.  I didn’t realize that I had until I was totally lost.  Thinking that if I kept driving I’d have to wind up somewhere, I relaxed and followed the road.

Eventually, I came to a small town on the coast that didn’t even have a sign announcing its name.  It looked like it had been dropped from a Norman Rockwell painting; only a lot more run down.  I felt right at home.

Driving through the town I came upon the only real estate agent that there was.  When I parked and entered her door, I think I woke her up.

She had a binder that contained available properties on each page and she and I sat side by side looking through them.  Each property she showed me had an aspect I didn’t like.  Some were too much in town, some too far from the ocean, some just downright too new and ugly.  I was about to give up and leave when she said, “There is one property I haven’t shown you.  I’ve given up on ever selling it; I just keep it listed as a courtesy.”

She rose, went to her filing cabinet and drew out a page.  As soon as I saw the photo I was interested.  It was an old home that sat in the photo so that you could see the ocean and the beach beyond a picket fence.  The house had a broad front porch and a pointed roof.  It looked like a drawing of a house that a child might have done.

“It’s in terrible shape, it hasn’t even been occupied in over ten years.” she told me.  “It was an estate, the old fellow who owned it had lived there most of his life.  His only kin is out of state and not even interested in it.  They just want to be rid of it.”

“Could I see it?” I asked.  For the first time in months, I felt excited about something.

The real estate lady opened her desk drawer and sorted through a ring of keys.  When she found the one she was looking for, she turned to me and said, “I haven’t been out there in years so I can’t vouch for the state it will be in.”

“That’s fair warning.” I replied.  “Shall I drive?”

She, of course, insisted on being the driver.  As we wheeled through town she acquainted me with the local landmarks, the grocery store, the hardware store, the bakery.  I told her that I wasn’t a churchgoer, so she thankfully skipped all of those.

We took a two lane road out of town that ran along the coast and didn’t see another car the whole time.  After about a mile or so, I saw the house up ahead.

The late afternoon sunlight made the windows blaze and illuminated the bleached wood siding.  It was a house that could have been built anywhere in the States at the end of the 19th century,  Bungalow style with thin clapboard that was direly in need of paint and a wide front porch, it was exactly the type of house I’d envisioned.  We pulled into a short drive and got out of the car.

The wind was blowing in from the sea, fresh and cool.  The long beach grass rippled, sea birds called and I fell halfway in love.

We mounted the three concrete front steps to the wide front porch.  From our vantage point there was an unobstructed view of the gray sea over the sand.  The front door was exactly in the middle with wide windows on either side.  The door itself was heavy oak that had been shellacked so many times that it was black behind an old wooden screen door.  I immediately in my mind could hear the sound that screen would make slapping shut.

The real estate lady turned the key in the lock, turned the knob and stepped inside.

Growing up, we weren’t quite dirt poor.  My mother always said that we at least one porch step above the dirt.  Often, when I was younger, I would walk into town in the early evening so that I could gaze into the windows of the town folks’ houses.  They all seemed to be rich to me, even though I now knew they were probably at the bottom of the middle class.  But their homes were decorated and the furniture was polished and they all seemed so safe and secure.  That was what I was looking for.

As soon as I stepped into the front hallway, I knew that I had found it.  The house was still full of the previous tenant’s furniture and belongings.  It wasn’t even dusty.

I looked around at the hallway, the stairs rising in front of me and the two rooms that opened off of the front hall.  I knew that upstairs I’d find two bedrooms, one on each side of the hallway and that if I went straight ahead on the first floor, and the door that I could see would lead into a long kitchen at the back.  It was the house I’d always wanted.

The furnishings were all from around the turn of the century up until the 1930’s.  An old rose colored overstuffed mohair sofa and chairs on spindly legs, that I knew would prickle against your skin, skinny high tables that held glazed urn lamps with discolored silk shades and a carpet of faded roses furnished the living room.  The walls were painted a mossy green and hung with pictures.

Across the entry hall was a dining room with a dark table and sideboard with bulbous legs.  The table was surrounded by a suite of chairs that matched the other pieces and their slip seats were upholstered in faded rose colored striped brocade.  In the center of the bare table stood a crystal epergne.  This room was painted a shade of old rose that I knew would make the room glow by lamplight.  There was a faded and threadbare oriental carpet covering the floor.  A brass chandelier with four separate squared lanterns made of slag glass hung in the center of the room and on the heavy sideboard there stood a pair of electric lusters with hanging crystals.  Old framed pictures and photos also decorated these walls.

 

On the back wall of the room was a swinging door that led to the kitchen.  It was a large room, almost the width of the house.  The walls were covered in glazed wallpaper from the 1920’s that was decorated with a small geometric design on a white background.  The woodwork was white and there was a white beaded board dado the covered the bottom half of the walls.  The refrigerator, electric stove and white porcelain sink were old and oversized and spotless.  In the center of the room, on the black and white checkered tiles and surrounded by chairs, was an oak table with a design in red and black stenciled along its edge.

I felt that I had slipped back in time and finally been invited inside one of those houses that I used to spy into.  The house even smelled the way I had imagined, faded scents of apples and furniture polish and dust.

The real estate lady said, “All of this old junk belonged to the man who died.  I can help you arrange to have it hauled away.  The place comes as is.”

I actually had a lump in my throat as I thought of this household being torn apart.

“May I look upstairs?” I asked.

Climbing the bare wooden stairs I knew that they would squeak, and they did.  At the top of the stairs, directly ahead, a door opened into a white tiled bathroom with heavy old porcelain fixtures that were thicker than the modern ones.  Silver taps and levers sparkled.

On the right side of the landing, I opened the bedroom door.  It looked as if the occupant had just left; the bed made and turned down, clothing still visible hanging in the half open closet.  A tall old dresser with a grayed mirror reflected my face back at me.  An old patchwork quilt covered the bed and a spindly rocking chair stood near the front window.

Across the landing, a door opened into another bedroom.  This one, in contrast, felt long unoccupied, the air cold and stale.  The walls were made of beaded board, this time one on top of the other horizontally rather than side by side like the dado in the kitchen.  My bedroom growing up had been paneled the exact same way and whereas that room had been shellacked so often that the walls were almost black, these were an old pine color.  The bed was made with military precision, the dresser top bare.  The room felt oddly sad and frozen.  Even so, I felt like this was the room for me, just waiting for someone to give it life again.

As I walked back down the stairs I ran my hand along the banister.  When I looked at my palm, there was no grime.  Every part of the house was remarkably clean and dust free after standing vacant for so long.

The real estate woman was standing at the door and as I approached her she said, “We still have time to view some other houses, if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I said and watched her face fall.

“If this house is reasonably priced, I’d like to make an offer on it.”

At first, she looked as if she couldn’t understand what I’d said, and then slowly a look of skepticism took its place.

“You want this old place?” she asked.

“I do.” I answered.  “Shall we go back to your office and proceed?”

She chattered all of the way back to town, afraid I’d change my mind, I think.  In her office she looked up the particulars and named a very low sum for the house.

“Of course, that’s what they originally asked.  A lot of time has passed since then.  I’d offer them…” and named an even lower sum.

“Fine.” I replied.  “Just get me the house.  If you can have the sale made and the papers signed before my bank closes today, I’ll give you a thousand dollar bonus.”

That lit a fire under her.  She seemed to forget that I was even there, her fingers flying on the phone as she yammered into it while opening drawers and piling papers on her desk.

She came to an agreement with the person on the other end of the line and then turned to me.

“How are you planning on paying?” she asked.

“Tell me the amount and what bank to send it to and I’ll have the full amount in their account by morning.”

She took down details, passed them to me and I made my own call.  The president of our bank had been a friend to Casey and me, so I called him directly.

We small talked for a moment or two and then I told him the purpose of the call.

“This seems rather rash.” he said.  “And that is still a large withdrawal, even with your funds.”

“I’m moving out of the city.” I told him.  “The condo is already up for sale and has some interest.  As soon as it sells, the funds will be several times what I’m drawing today.  Plus, I’m selling everything else except my clothing.  And, just think, no more condo fees.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked.

“For the first time in years, I’m sure that it’s exactly the right thing.”

“Then I’ll make the arrangements to send the cash overnight.  It will be there at the start of business tomorrow.  I hope you’ll be happy.”

We said our goodbyes and I turned to the real estate woman.

“What next?” I asked.

She already had signed contracts and other paperwork in her files that the sellers had signed years before.  She added the date, I signed everything and she handed me a ring of keys.

“I just need to file all of this but for all intents and purposes, you now own a house.” she said.

“Would you like your bonus by check or cash?” I asked.

She was ecstatic to have made such a profitable sale so quickly and smoothly and I had a hard time getting away from her.  I had already made my first friend in town it seemed.

As I was finally backing through the door with her still talking, something occurred to me.  I interrupted her flow of words to ask, “Is there someone local who I can hire for some cleaning, that sort of thing?”

“Ida White.” she replied.  “She’s the only person in town for you.  She has been doing for folks her whole life.  I’ll call her right now.”

With a new mission to occupy her, I was finally able to get away.

I drove the short distance back out to the house.   The sun had started going down and an even stronger ocean breeze had kicked up.  I stood and looked at the solid little house and felt happy for the first time in years.  Climbing the porch steps I knew that I would be happy here.

When I got inside, the silent house welcomed me like a warm bath.  The power had been shut off so there were no lights but I found an old oil lamp that still contained oil and lit it.  The soft glow bathed the living room as it must have in the years before electricity and I sat on the plush sofa and relaxed.

 

I awoke hours later, the oil lamp guttering as the last of the oil burned.  I had just enough light to make it up the stairs.  At the top, I immediately went to what I already thought of as “my room”.  Lying down on the bed with the curtains still open I could hear the low murmur of the sea and the wind sliding over the house as it must have done for at least the last hundred years.   Fully dressed, I was asleep in less than a minute and didn’t reawaken all night.

 

The next morning I was awakened by someone calling, “Yoohoo, are you awake?”

I jumped up and looked at my watch.  I had slept like a stone for over 12 hours.  Stepping through the doorway, I looked down the stairs.

At the bottom stood an older lady with tightly curled white hair.  She was dressed in a house dress type garment with boots on and a man’s heavy coat over the top.

“I’m Ida White.” she said, peering up at me.  “I noticed your car last night after I got a call about you needing help, so I figured you were staying the night.  I brought you some breakfast, come and eat before it gets cold.”

I went into the bathroom and washed my face in cold water and then descended to the first floor.  I could hear movement in the kitchen and when I looked around the edge of the hall door, Ida White was setting the table for two.

“Don’t just stand there.” she said, looking up.  “I don’t bite, at least not when I first meet somebody.”

I walked in and sat down at the place she motioned to.  She began to pile eggs and bacon onto a plate and even still warm buttered toast.  From a large thermos she poured steaming coffee into a mug.

“This is very kind of you.” I said, picking up a fork.

“We need to check each other out if I might be working here.” she said.  She had a very focused way of looking at one.  I’m sure she could spot a phony through concrete.

She took her place at the table and we both began to eat, her side eying me occasionally.

 

When I had almost finished she said, “So, what are you going to do with this place?  Tear it down and build one of those new glass and steel houses?”

“God, no.” I replied.  “That’s what I’m coming from.”

“So you’re just going to gut it?  Put in new windows, paint everything white and bring in modern furniture?”

“Actually, all I want to do is give the place a good spring type cleaning.  Do you know what I mean by that?”

“I ought to.” she said.  “I’ve been cleaning all of my life.  Spring, summer, fall and winter.  Even though nobody does spring cleaning anymore.”

She sat drinking her coffee and finally asked, “You’re going to live in the midst of all of this old stuff.”

“When I was a child, this old stuff was the summit of my aspirations.  All of my life, I’ve thought that if I could live like this I’d be rich.”

“Well, I’ve already heard that money doesn’t seem to be a problem for you.” she said.

“That’s a relatively new development.” I replied.  “Where I grew up, the rich folks didn’t even live this nice.”

She sat contemplating what I’d told her and then she said, “So what kind of cleaning are we talking about?”

“The old fashioned kind.” I replied.  “Walls washed down, floors and windows scrubbed, woodwork cleaned, linens laundered, rugs beaten.  If you’re up to it, I’d like to go whole hog and carry all of the furniture outside and give it a washing down, too.  I want it done right.”

“I have some girls who help me when I need it.” she said, rising and pulling the dishes together.  “We’ll need lights and hot water so you’ll need to arrange all of that.  How soon are we talking?”

“I’ll go into town and make the power arrangements as soon as we leave.” I said.  “Could you start tomorrow?”

“I’m looking forward to it.  I love this old house.” she said.

I watched her as she piled the dishes in the sink.  The well water was cold but better than nothing for soaking the dirty china, she said.

As I sat watching, something occurred to me.

“I could swear I locked the front door last night.” I said.  “How did you get in?”

She turned to look at me guiltily.

“I have a key.” she said.  “I used to do for the old man who lived here.  I like to keep an eye on the place.”

Suddenly, something made sense to me.

“You’re the one who’s kept it so clean.” I said.  “I wondered why there was no dust anywhere.”

She looked even guiltier and said, “I couldn’t have stood to see this place go to rack and ruin.  The old man who lived here was a gentle soul.  I’ve kept it like he’d have wanted me to.”

“And that’s why you were concerned about what I’d do to it.”

If possible, she looked even guiltier.

“I’m sorry.” she said.  “I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night worrying about what might happen to this place.  It would have ripped my heart out to see it torn down.”

 

“Well, you can go home and get plenty of sleep so you’ll have energy for tomorrow.” I said.  “In fact, I’m leaving it up to you what ought to be thrown out and what should stay.  Just don’t go hog wild.  I like everything exactly as it is.”

I could see the burden lift from her and she said, “You and me think alike.  When I get done, things will be brighter but nothing will have changed.”

The two of us walked through the house together, remarking on whatever caught our eye.  When we reached the living room, Ida said, “I suppose there is one thing you should get rid of.”

She gave me a long look and then said, “That sofa.  The old man, when he died, that’s where I found him.  I’ve scrubbed it several times but I keep thinking that it still has an odor.  And, it gives me the creeps.”

“I don’t mind.” I said.  “Besides, I can’t just bring in a brand new sofa.  I need something from the same time, something that will fit in.”

We both had to leave, then, me to do my errands and she to rest.  As I stepped outside I paused on the porch and looked over the sand at the sea.  It was one of those spring days that are warm even though the breeze is cold.  The sky was a uniform light gray and the sea a darker shade of the same.  

“It’s a pretty place here when the sun shines.” Ida said, watching me.

“I think it’s a pretty place, now.” I replied.  “It suits my mood.”

We walked up the path to our autos and at the top I turned to look back at the house.

“It’s a house that makes you feel welcome, isn’t it?” I said.

“It’s like the old time folks are still there, just out of sight.” Ida replied.  “I’ve felt that many times there.  It’s a house to be happy in.”

“I have to go back to the city and pick up some things and make my arrangements.  I’ll be gone a couple of days.  Let me know when I can come home.”

I gave her my cell phone number, and then turned back again.

Looking at the house I asked, “Is there anyone in town who does painting?”

“My Tom does.” Ida replied.  “Just stop at the hardware store and pick your colors.  And open up an account.  Tell the owner that Tom and Ida will be picking up whatever you need to get this place in shape.  That way you’ll have an accounting for your taxes, too.”

“I want it just the same.” I said.  “White clapboard with that dark gray trim.  It just needs spruced up.”

Ida was smiling, her face a net of creases.

“You and I are going to get along better than fine.” she said.

My power, it turned out, could be turned on that afternoon.  I paid a deposit to make sure.  Then, I went to the hardware store and did as I’d been instructed.  I paid a deposit on that account, too, just for goodwill and to set the owner’s mind at ease.

The trip back to the city took forever it seemed, mainly because I didn’t want to go there.  I wanted to be back in my house by the sea.  

My first stop upon reaching the city was at an auction house.  I told them that I wanted to get rid of the entire estate, nothing held back except my clothing and then made an appointment for them to start cataloging the next morning.  Next. I called our cleaning lady and arranged for her to meet me at the condo.  

Once we were there, I explained that would need her to do a final thorough cleaning after the place was emptied.  She was sorry to see me move so far away but agreed it was for the best.  I gave her all of Casey’s clothing, hoping that some of her family or church members might want some of it.  I also gave her a variety of items that she liked and that I wanted her to have to remember Casey by.  We had a tearful parting.

I then left and procured a pile of boxes and packing tape.  As I filled each box with my clothing and few possessions, I felt as if I were shedding the past.  I worked until well after dark.

Standing at the wall of glass in the front room overlooking a maze of square concrete buildings and the deep canyons in between, I felt the weight of depression slowly stealing over me again.  I packed a suitcase and checked into a hotel.  I wanted a new start, not a trip to the past.

The next couple of days flew by, packed with chores and errands.  On the third day around noon, I received the call I’d been awaiting from Mrs. White.

“Your house is all ready.” she told me.  “When are you coming?”

I was so happy that I told her I’d be on my way as soon as I checked out of the hotel.

 

“I’ll leave some lights on for you.” she said.  “And some cold dinner in the icebox.”

I called the freight company and requested delivery of my boxes on the following day, got into my little Ford and hit the road.  I was almost breathless with longing to get there.

I arrived in town late that afternoon and I was surprised when the real estate lady and the hardware store owner both waved to me as I drove down the main street.  The short drive to the house felt longer than the trip from the city.

When I pulled up and parked, I felt like crying.  In the short time I’d been gone; the exterior had been painted to look like new.  The windows sparkled and a soft warm light glowed behind them.  If I had ever had any doubts that this was the right thing to do, they vanished in that instant.

I slowly walked down the path, reveling in the sight of my first true home.  After climbing the concrete porch steps, I turned and looked out at the vast sea to where it met the horizon.  It made me feel that anything was possible.

I inserted my key in the lock and turned it.  Even the door lock had been oiled and it clicked as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The house was like a time capsule.  Everything that I could see looked fresh and clean, the soft colors jewel like and the wood shining in the dimness.  Mrs. White had turned on several of the lamps in the living room and dining room and their soft diffused light made the rooms feel like I was dreaming.  I walked from room to room, trailing my fingers over the freshly waxed furniture, reassuring myself that it all really existed.

There was a big old table model radio in the living room and when I turned it on, it hummed to life and the dial lit up.  It was tuned to a nostalgia station and the strains of a big band from 70 years ago floated through the house.

Going to the kitchen, I opened the door and turned on the light.  In the center of the table was a bottle of wine, a stemmed glass and a note from Ida that read “Welcome Home”.  At that point, I did cry.

The huge old refrigerator in the corner hummed and when I opened it I found that not only had she left me supper, she’d done some grocery shopping so that I wouldn’t need to leave to find breakfast in the morning.  Cold fried chicken, potato salad, sliced tomatoes and a green salad washed down with wine tasted better than any restaurant meal I’d ever eaten in the city.  Sitting at the kitchen table with the protective shell of the house around me, I ate my first meal in my new home.

After I’d eaten and washed the dishes (she even remembered to buy dish soap!) I wandered into the living room and sat down in one of the comfortable old chairs with my wine.  The living room had heavy velvet drapes of a deep wine color that were pulled back from the window and I could look out over the ocean as I listened to the soft music coming over the airwaves.  One might think that having the night and ocean and nature so close by outdoors would feel frightening but it didn’t in the least.  I felt so calm and at peace that I didn’t even notice the time passing.

After what must have been hours, I became aware of the photos of the wall in front of me and I rose to look at them more closely.  In heavy old fashioned frames there were several pictures of the same two men.  Most of the photos were individual studio shots; only the one in the center showed both men together, one seated and the other standing to his right at his shoulder.

Obviously, one of the men had lived here into his old age.  I wondered if the other man was his brother.  There was a resemblance.

I sat back down and watched the moonlight on the sea for a few hours more before I caught myself dozing off.  The third or fourth time that my head snapped back on my neck, I decided it was time to call it a night.  I turned off the radio, turned off all of the lights except one small lamp in the living room and climbed the stairs.

I opened the door on the left.  The room smelled soapy and clean and the window had been left cracked open a bit so that fresh air flowed in.  I turned on the bedside light and looked around.  The room somehow seemed warmer than before, not nearly so forsaken.  The moon shone in on the braided rag rug on the floor almost as bright as daylight.  I took off my clothing, climbed between the sheets and turned out the light.  The old horsehair mattress on the bed was as comfortable as a cloud.  I watched the moonlight as I lay there but not for long.  I was asleep before I even knew it.

The next morning I awoke early, completely refreshed.  I showered in the old claw foot tub with curtains all around me suspended by a ring affixed to the ceiling.  The heavy cotton towels smelled freshly laundered and I made a note to myself to locate the washer and dryer, if they existed.

I made myself breakfast and ate heartily, did my dishes and then went out to sit on the porch steps with a cup of coffee.  

 

I had just finished it when my phone trilled.

When I answered, Ida said, “What are you doing?”

“Drinking coffee and admiring the view.  What are you doing?”

“I’m in town and I have something to show you.  Can you come?”

“As soon as I lock up.” I replied.  “Where shall I meet you?”

“Just drive downs the street, you’ll see me.” she said and hung up.

 

The drive to town only took minutes and as soon as was on the main street I saw Ida.  She was standing on the sidewalk in front of storefront with large plate glass windows on either side of the doorway.  Painted on the glass was “Betty’s Bargain Barn”.

 

I parked and Ida said, “Let me do the talking.” and led me into the establishment.  It was jammed full of furniture, clothing, pots and pans and anything else you can think of.  She led me through a narrow aisle to near the back.

Sitting there, recently unearthed judging from the piles of items around it, was a sofa.  It wasn’t exactly like the one I had at home but it was a close cousin.  It was covered in the same rose colored prickly mohair, had a dark wood frame along the back and the same spindly curved legs.  It looked dusty but in almost new condition for something so old.

Ida sat down and motioned for me to sit beside her.  The sofa had the same soft, enveloping feel as my own.

“I knew I’d find a replacement.” she said as she stood up.  “Lie down and see how it feels for naps.”

I did as told.  The sofa was soft yet firm and the armrest was perfect as a pillow.  Add a few old throw pillows and the sofa would look as if it had always been in my living room.

“How much?” I asked and Ida held her finger to her lips to silence me.

Turning to the back of the store she yelled, “Betty, I have a question.”

Betty, when she appeared between the piled wares, was a woman of about the same age as Ida.  They even looked somewhat alike except Betty had a flowered apron tied around her waist.

“How much do you want for this old sofa?”  Ida asked.

“Do you mean that antique sofa?” Betty replied.  “It’s in excellent condition; I bought it from the original owner.”

“And it’s been sitting under these piles of junk since Moses was a pup.  How much?”

“I can let it go for fifty dollars.” Betty replied.

Ida assumed her most outraged face and said, “It’s not worth twenty.”

“They don’t make them like this anymore.” Betty said.  “Reupholstered and in a fancy shop, they’d probably charge you a thousand dollars.”

“And it’s not reupholstered or in a fancy shop and it will probably cost a hundred dollars to get the dust and moths out of it.  I’ll give you twenty five.”

“Since it’s you, I could probably go down to forty five.” Betty said.

“And I could maybe, just maybe, go up to thirty.”

“Let’s not dicker in front of your friend.” Betty said.  “I can take a sacrifice at thirty five.”

Ida glanced at me and I vigorously nodded.

“Well, I’m not sure it’s a bargain but I guess you win.” Ida told Betty.

“May I look around?” I asked Betty.

“Help yourself.” Betty said with a smile.  “I’m open till six and you’ll probably be my only customers all day.  If you decide you want the whole shop, I’ll give you a hell of a deal.”

Ida and Betty drifted toward the front and I saw them each take a comfortable chair, probably part of a regular ritual.  There were actually several things that I saw that I liked.  There was a vase made of pale blue frosted glass with sprays of flowers painted on the front that I could envision on the living room mantel.  In a corner, I found a framed print of a dog in snow, surrounded by a blue night sky, his head back and howling.  We had had the same print on the stairway in the house where I grew up.

Best of all, there was a wooden porch swing made of slats of weathered gray.  The arms had metal eyes where a chin could be attached on each so that it could be hung from the ceiling.  I suddenly remembered noticing the pair of hooks in the ceiling of my front porch that very morning.

“Ida, may I ask a question of you?” I called.

When she appeared I showed her the swing.

“A coat of paint and that will look like it was always on your porch.” she said.  “My Tom can get the chain and help you hang it.”

“I have a few other things I’d like to ask about, too.” I replied.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with the soft chimes of a clock striking the hour.

“That’s my treasure.” Ida said.  “Come and see.”

She led me to the very back of the shop and against the wall stood a tall grandfather’s clock.  It had to have been at least a hundred and fifty years old.  The case was dark wood and had scrolls and finials at the top.  A glass door showed the large brass pendulum swinging inside and another glass door showed the painted face which had flowers painted in a garland around the edge.

“Some day, I’m going to buy this.” Ida said.  “The old robber wants a thousand dollars for it.”

“That is a museum piece.” Betty said, popping up from nowhere.  “You know I had that looked at and it’s made by a famous clockmaker.  A thousand dollars is a give away price.  Young people don’t appreciate fine things anymore or that would have flown out the door the day I got it.”

“Well, it didn’t and you’ve always said you’d give me first refusal if anyone asked about it.  Some day I’ll come into a fortune and that will be what I spend it on.”

“I ought to just donate it to a museum and take a tax write off.” Betty said as she turned and walked away.

“This is my time machine.” Ida told me.  I must have looked mystified because she continued, “I keep thinking about how it was made all of those years ago and about how many people must have looked at it.  Maybe even my own grandmother saw it in her day.  So, it’s come through all of those years and all of those times and yet, here it is.  The very same clock.  Still telling the same hours, still keeping the same time.  It was all the way back there and here it is now, an actual link to that time.  It just keeps on.”

“But if you don’t wind it, it stops and all of that is gone.” I said.  I was thinking about Casey and how he had suddenly disappeared from my life.

“That’s the magic part, though.  You wind it up and set it and it starts right in again, keeping the same time as it always had.  It can’t stop because it can always start up again.”

“You’re too much of a philosopher for me to understand that, really.” I said.

“I’m a crazy old woman who thinks too much is what you mean.” she replied.  “Let’s go see what kind of bargain we can get on your other things.”

She led the way up to the front and had a good haggling session with Betty.  As I paid for the purchases, Betty looked at me side eyed and asked, “Are you new in town?” knowing all of the time who I must be.

“He’s the fellow who just bought the Martin house.” Ida told her.

“The murder house?” Betty asked.

“Oh, hush, you old fool.  That’s a bunch of hogwash and you know it.”

Betty was looking at me with heightened interest as I picked up my items and prepared to leave.

“Tom will be by later to pick up the sofa and porch swing.” Ida told her.  “Try not to lose them or resell them before then.”

I followed her to the door and I could tell she was in a hurry to get away but before she could escape I said, “Ida?”

She gave me a look of such innocence I almost fell for it.

“The murder house?” I asked.

“That’s just a bunch of crazy gossip.” she said.  “You shouldn’t listen to garbage like that.”

I stood looking at her and she knew I wasn’t going to let it go.

“Oh, come on.” she said, indicating a bench a little bit up the street.  “You may as well hear the whole story so I know you get the truth.”

When we were seated side by side, she began her story.

“First of all, there was never any murder.  There was an accident and a bunch of old busybodies embroidered it into a whole other story.  A long time ago, in 1950, there were two young men who lived at your place.  Henry Martin had inherited that place and his friend Peter Quick moved in there with him.  They were both sweet young men, no one ever had a bad word to say before the accident.

Anyway, back in those days, your house didn’t have central heating, it had wood stoves.  You had to stock up before winter and hope you didn’t run out.

The boys had been living there less than a year when disaster struck.  They were outside and Henry was splitting wood while Peter stacked it.  Henry had just sharpened his ax and it cut like a razor.  He was whaling away and had just swung to split a log when the ax head came off somehow.  It flew through the air to where Peter was working with his back turned and hit him in the back of the head, just at the base of his skull.  The doctor said that he died instantaneously, didn’t even know what hit him.”

“God, how awful.” I said.

“Henry never did get over it.  And the vicious gossips in this town started making up stories, that Henry and Peter were more than just friends.”

“You mean gay?”

“They didn’t call it that back then.  They just said they were ’involved’.  Then, the story was that they’d had a fight and Henry had murdered Peter.  The sheriff at the time tried to shut people up, said that he could think of a lot of easy and more convenient ways to kill somebody besides flinging an ax head across the yard and hope that it hit exactly in the right spot.  The old biddies started looking at Henry funny and eventually, he just stopped going out of the house.  You could have your groceries delivered back then and he didn’t need much else.  He became a recluse.”

“You knew him, didn’t you?” I asked.

She looked at me for a few minutes before she spoke again.

“When I was a young girl, my mother introduced me to him.  She checked on him regularly, just to see he was alright.  I started coming by and doing some cleaning chores for him, now and again.  He was a gentle soul who never overcame what happened.  When Peter died, his life stopped, too.”

“Were they gay?” I asked.

“You don’t ask folks such a thing, especially your elders.” Ida said.  “But, I think so.  I think they really loved each other and that’s why Henry never got over it.  I think it was a tragedy for both of them.  I still hate to think of Henry alone in that house all of those years.”

 

“Are those the pictures on the walls, the two men?”

“That was them.  Henry was the light haired one and Peter was dark.  There’s still a photo album in the bottom of the sideboard that has pictures of them, too.”

“Maybe they’re together, now.” I said.

“The good Lord willing.” she replied.  “Now, do you want to move?”

“I love the house more than ever, now.” I said.  “And you took care of him, didn’t you, after he got old.  I think you loved him, too.  That’s why you took such good care of his house.”

Ida looked uncomfortable and she rose from the bench and said, “We all just do what we need to do.  I don’t know about all of that other foolishness.”

She looked down at me and said, “Well, are you going to sit here all day?”

“I am going to sit awhile.” I said.

“Suit yourself; I’ve got work to do.”

She turned and left and I waved a moment later as her car cruised by.  

I sat thinking about the story I’d heard and about the kindness of strangers.  Sometimes, people are just good to each other because that’s the only way they know.

As I carried my vase and picture to my car, I suddenly had an inspiration, so after stowing them in the car trunk I went back to Betty’s shop.

When I entered, Betty was wrestling with a pile of clothing and she asked, “Back again so soon?  Did I tempt you with an offer to sell you the whole lot?”

“I came back about the clock.” I said.

Betty immediately got a closed look on her face and asked, “Ida’s clock?”

“Yes, I want to buy it.  Will you take a check?”

I could tell how hard the idea hit her.

“I can’t sell you Ida’s clock, it will break her heart.  Can’t you buy another clock?”

“I’m buying it for Ida.” I told her.  “When Tom comes to pick up my items, tell him that a mystery buyer left money and a note saying that the clock should go home with him to Ida.  Tell him that they want her to have it.”

“She’ll never fall for that, she’ll know it was you.”

“Let me worry about that.” I said.  “Now, do you want credit card, check or should I run to the bank and get cash?”

*          *          *          *          *          *

Early that afternoon I was sitting outside again when an older model pickup pulled into the drive and backed its rear end up to the porch steps.

An older man dressed in worn jeans and a flannel shirt stepped out of the cab.  It was obvious looking at him that he’d been quite a looker in his youth, he was still unusually handsome.  He looked like he was pure muscle, not a bit of fat on him, the way older men who have always worked hard get.

“I’m Tom White.” he said; hand out to shake while appraising me.

“I’m glad to finally meet you.” I said.  “I’ve wanted to thank you for the fantastic job you did on the painting.”

“It was easy.” he said.  “And I knew that if I didn’t do it totally right the first time, Ida would make me do it over again until she was satisfied.”  We both chuckled, envisioning her demanding it be done over.

“Your wife is a remarkable woman.” I said.  “I wish I’d met her years ago.”

“They surely broke the mold.” he replied.  “Now, I’ve got some deliveries for you.”

He let down the tailgate of the truck and I could see the sofa, the porch swing upended at one end and lying on the bed a huge coffin shaped package swaddled in enough packing blankets to survive an earthquake.  I didn’t mention the package.

“I haven’t moved the other sofa.” I told him.  “I don’t know what to do with it.”

“We’ll just carry it out and I’ll put it on the truck and store it in our shed, just in case you ever want it.  I know it’s too good to throw away.”

“I can’t believe how kind everyone is around here.” I said and he gave me an odd, narrow eyed look.

He and I carried the old sofa out and carried the new one in.  It honestly looked so much like the previous one that you’d never know the difference.

 

We unloaded the porch swing and Tom, looking up, said, “Good, the hooks are already there.  I’ll bring some chain by and we’ll have this hanging in no time.”

I went down and helped load the old sofa onto the truck and when we’d completed that, Tom turned to me.

“I noticed that you haven’t asked about my other delivery.” he said.

“I didn’t think it was any of my business.” I replied.

“It’s the funniest thing.” he said, looking at me.  “Ida has been pining after a clock in Betty’s store for donkey years and when I went to pick up your things, Betty gave me some story that a mystery person had left money and a note saying that the clock was to be delivered to Ida.”

“How lucky for her.” I said.  “She deserves it and more.”

“If you realize that already, then you’re a pretty smart man.” Tom said.

He paused a moment and then said, “Ida isn’t used to fancy presents.  If she suspects who the mystery buyer was, she may give him a good talking to.”

“I’m sure he’s been through worse and survived.” I replied.

Tom smiled and said, “Forewarned is forearmed.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a visitor after supper.”

“I’ll make some iced tea.” I said.

“I’ll be back tomorrow so we can hang your swing.” he said and climbed into his truck.  As he drove away he waved out of the window without looking back.

I spent the rest of the afternoon mooning around the house, hanging my dog picture and arranging dried weeds in my new vase on the mantel.  I even found a pair of faded cretonne throw pillows in the upstairs linen closet of a blue shade close to the new vase that looked perfect on the sofa.

I ate a small dinner and made the iced tea, set out a tray and glasses and went out to sit on the porch steps and admire the view.  About a half hour later, Ida’s car pulled into the drive.

She got out of the car and marched down the path, her mouth set in a straight line.

“I know you bought that clock, I’m no fool.” she said when she reached me.

“No one would ever mistake you for a fool.” I said.

“Well, I can’t accept it.  It’s too grand.  I just met you.  You can’t do things like that.”

“I can if I want to and I wanted to.”

“I’m sending it back to you.  Tom will bring it by.”

“And I’ll chop it into kindling wood if you do.” I told her.  “Either you have that clock or no one ever will.”

I could tell by her outraged expression that she was shocked.

“You’ll do no such a thing.” she said.

“If that clock leaves your house, you just watch what happens.”

Her expression softened and she said, “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Then you are a very wise woman.  Take a seat and I’ll bring you some iced tea to cool you down.”

I went in and got the tray and pitcher and set it on the step between us.

“Tom already had that clock in the house and running when I got home.” Ida said.  “Of course, it’s in the wrong spot.  I’ll make him move it when I get back.  And I need to wax and polish it; Betty never did take decent care of it.”

“I’m sure it will be appreciated now.” I said.  “I wanted to try to repay you for all of the care you’ve given this house.  You’ll never know what it means to me to have found it.  I feel like I owe it all to you.  For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to waking up tomorrow.”

Ida sat musing for a moment and then she said, “You can tell this house had love in it, can’t you?”

“I never thought of that but it’s exactly right.  The first time I stepped through the door I felt it.”

The two of us sat drinking our tea and watching the light fade over the ocean.

“I’ve sat here many an evening before you came.” Ida said.  “Every time, I’d expect to see Peter and Henry walking on the sands, cutting up for each other.”

“Maybe they do and we just can’t see them.” I replied.

After another little while Ida said, “I’ve got to be getting home.  Don’t surprise me again or I’ll lay a 2X4 across your skull.  Tom will be by tomorrow to help you hang the swing; he’s got some of the gray trim paint left over so he’ll bring that, too.  The swing will be easier to paint once its hanging.”

I remained sitting after she had gone.  The light dwindled down until it was full dark.  There was still enough light to make the sea almost glow, you could see it shining in the distance.  For a few moments I fancied that I could see someone walking along the shore edge, a silhouette against the sea.  I got up and went indoors.

That evening, I examined all of the photos hanging on the walls.  Henry and Peter had both been handsome men and I checked each photo for some indication that they’d been gay.  Of course, I didn’t find any.

Then I remembered what Ida had told me that morning about the photo album in the sideboard.  I opened one of the doors and soon found it and carried it into the living room.  There was a floor lamp at one end of the sofa and I turned it on and then switched on the radio to listen to the old music.

Sitting on the sofa in the circle of light, I began to look through the album.  There was page after page of photos of the two of them, separately and together.  They looked so happy.

 

Each page made me sadder than the last, knowing how the story ended.  I went through the album once and then started through the pages again.  This time, I started to feel better.  Even if it had all ended so badly, it was obvious that they’d been happy together.   It was also obvious, at least to me, that they had been in love.  I was glad that they’d at least had that much time together.

By the time I’d finished my second look, it was time for bed.  I got up and put the album away and then I stood in front of the photo on the wall that showed both men.  Peter had died so young and Henry had wasted away for all of his years after.  The unfairness made me want to scream and jump up and down, beat on the walls and break windows.  Instead, I climbed the stairs and climbed into bed.

I had left the window open a crack and the sound of the sea and the fresh air lulled me as I lay there.  I fell to sleep almost at once.

Some time later, I awoke.  It was still night and the full moon was shining into my window, the cold light stretched across the floor almost to my bed.  I lay looking at it until I became aware of a shape in the corner.  There was an old upholstered chair there that I had put my clothing on before going to bed.  Now, with the moonlight glaring into the room, the corner appeared almost pitch black but there was enough reflected light to almost make out the shape of a figure sitting there.  I should have been frightened but for some reason I wasn’t.  I lay waiting for the figure to move but it never did and when I finally switched on the bedside lamp, there was nothing but an empty chair.

The next morning as soon as I opened my eyes, my thoughts returned to Peter and Henry.  I had had some dream about the two of them but I couldn’t remember it now, only flashes from the whole.

 

After showering and dressing I went downstairs to have breakfast.  I was just going into the kitchen by the hall door when for some reason I glanced behind me.  Silhouetted against the light of the front door was the shape of a man.  I glanced into the kitchen to make sure there was no one in there and when I turned back, the figure was gone.  I walked into the kitchen and back out through the dining room door, then into the living room.  There was no one anywhere in the house.

Soon after breakfast I heard Tom’s truck outside.  He was already on the porch and fooling with the swing and chains by the time I got out there.  It was a simple matter to cut the chains to the right length and with a ladder he’d brought we soon had the swing suspended from the porch.  We both sat down to try it out.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” I asked Tom.

“Sure, when I was in the Navy.  Every time I drank too much rum, I saw all sorts of things.  Don’t tell me you’re already getting squirrely out here by yourself.”

“No, I was just thinking about a comment Ida made last night about expecting to see someone who isn’t there.”

“Don’t you ever tell Ida I said so but only crazy people see ghosts.”

“At least I’ll be able to tell when I go off the edge, then.” I said.

Tom left me with the swing and a can of paint.  I preferred to just sit and watch the ocean from my new swing.

My phone rang and I saw that it was my real estate agent in the city.  She’d had an offer, she said, and wanted to give a counter offer.  We agreed on a figure and it seemed like I had just hung up when she called right back and said the buyers had accepted our offer.  I had signed all of the necessary paperwork before I left town, all that was left was for the buyers to sign.  The money, she told me, would be in my account in a matter of days.  When she hung up I realized that for better or worse, I lived only here now.

While it was on my mind I phoned the auction house.  Everything in the apartment had been picked up and the condo had been thoroughly cleaned.  They were working on a catalogue that would include my items and wanted to know if I would come to the presale viewing or the auction itself.  I told them I wasn’t able to attend.

My entire past life had disappeared.  It felt as if I had finally exhaled.  I went down and walked along the beach, observing the waves and the squawking birds.  Finally, I took off my shoes, rolled up my trousers and stomped around at the edge of the surf for awhile.  I felt totally free.

When I tired of splashing I sat on the sand and watched the light play over the waves.  It was a cloudy day but still beautiful.  Every shade of gray imaginable was in the sky, the sea and the sand.

Starting to feel a little chilly, I picked up my shoes and headed for home.  When I came in sight of the house, I saw someone sitting on the swing, lazily rocking back and forth.  I wasn’t expecting anyone but I wasn’t alarmed.  It was probably someone selling something or a Mormon.

 

I had gotten almost abreast of the house when I dropped a shoe and bent to pick it up.  When I looked back at the porch, the figure was gone.  The swing still swung slightly back and forth but no one was in sight.  It would have been impossible for anyone to disappear so completely in such a short time.

*          *          *          *          *          *

As was now my habit, I spent that evening looking at the old photo album while listening to the nostalgia station on the radio.  I slept well though I kept having dreams of Peter and Henry.

The next morning when I went downstairs to eat breakfast, the figure of a man was once again standing at the front door.  

I walked up to the figure.  Even though my footsteps were audible on the wood floor, he didn’t turn or move.  It was as if he wasn’t even aware of me.

When I was close enough, I leaned forward to see his face.  He looked exactly like the photos of Peter that I had been spending so much time looking at.  That was when I decided that I was having some sort of mental breakdown.

I spun around and walked down the hall to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cornflakes.  I had eaten half of the bowl before I even realized that I’d forgotten to add any sugar.

After finishing my breakfast, I walked back out into the hallway.  The figure was gone.

I walked up to the front door and as I did so, I passed the door into the front living room.  The figure was now sitting in one of the upholstered armchairs, hands resting on his knees and staring straight ahead, not even blinking.

I picked up my car keys and went outside.  On the drive to Ida’s place, I tried to think of how I was going to say what I had to tell her.  By the time I’d arrived, I still had no clue.

Ida came out onto her porch when she heard my car in the drive and watched me as I walked toward her.

“If I have to go away for awhile, will you take care of the house?” I asked her.

“Going back to the city?” she said.

“No, I think I may have to spend some time at a hospital or something.  I’m having a mental breakdown.”

“Oh, foot!” Ida replied.  “You’re no crazier than most of the people in this town and a lot more sane than some of them.  Get in here and tell me what’s going on over a cup of coffee.”

I followed her inside and allowed her to lead me to the kitchen.  Tom was still sitting at the table, finishing his morning coffee and he nodded as I sat down.  Ida brought a mug of coffee for me and her and then sat down across from me.

“Okay, spill it.” she said.

“I’ve been seeing things.” I told her.  “It started out small, just little flashes of things.  Then, I started thinking I saw people on the beach or around the house.  I was already starting to worry, and then this morning when I came downstairs, I swear to god that Peter was standing in the hallway.”

Ida looked at Tom, then back at me.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I just went up to him and when I saw who it was, I had some cornflakes.”

 

“That doesn’t sound too scary.” Tom said as he laughed.

“It wasn’t scary.  It wasn’t like you read in ghost stories.  He just stood there and then when I came back out of the kitchen; he was sitting in the living room.”

“Did you talk to him?” Ida asked.

“No, he didn’t look like he even knew I was there.”

“My grandma used to claim to see spirits.” Ida told me.  “She always said that if you ask them what they want or what they need, they’ll tell you.”

“It sounds like your grandma was the one who needed a trip to the loony bin.” Tom said.

Ida gave him a look that could have frozen Old Faithful, and then turned back to me.

“I never saw anything in all the years I took care of your place.” she said.  “I never seemed to have the gift.  But, I always felt like there was someone there, just in another room or behind a door.”

“Maybe you two can get adjoining rooms at the crazy house.” Tom said.

Ida rose and grabbed Tom’s ear and hauled him upright, then pulled him over to the back door.

“If you’re not out of here and on your way to work in 5 seconds, you’re going to lose a lot more than an ear.” she told him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom said.  “I don’t want to take a chance on disappointing my next wife.”

“Like any woman would be crazy enough to have you besides me.” she said as she opened the door and pushed him outdoors.  When she shut the door, he stood outside and made kissy faces at her until she closed the curtains.

Sitting back down at the table, Ida asked, “When’s the last time you saw a doctor?”

“A couple of months ago.  He said that I’m in perfect health.”

“Well, then.”

“He didn’t examine my brain.”

“What you need to do is go home and confront your fear.  If you think Peter is still sitting in your living room, sit down by him and ask him what he wants.  You know as well as I do that there’s nothing evil or hateful that could exist in that house.”

“Except me, if I’m losing my mind.” I said.

“And that’s not happening.  Go on, I need to get to work anyway.  You go on home and calm yourself.  I’ll send my nephew by later this afternoon to check on you and make sure that all of your locks are working, how does that sound?”

“Tell him not to come in if I’m swinging on the chandelier and making noises like an ape.” I said.

Ida herded me back out to my car and stood waving as I drove away.  I wasn’t looking forward to going home.  I drove into town and bought a few groceries, went to the bank and the post office and killed as much time as I could but eventually I found myself driving to the house.

When I pulled into my parking spot, the house looked the same as always.  Mid-morning sun lit up the porch and made the windows sparkle.  It was a house where nothing fearful could exist.

I opened the front door and peered inside.  Everything looked the same as usual.  I entered and began walking down the hall toward the kitchen.  As I did so, I glanced into the living room.

The figure I’d seen earlier was still sitting in the same chair in the same position.  He still stared blankly ahead.  He almost looked like a movie frozen on the screen, a projection more than an actual shape.

I took my purchases into the kitchen and put them away, then made a pot of coffee.  When it had finished brewing, I poured myself a mug full and walked back up the hall to the living room.  The figure in the plush chair sat perfectly still, seemingly oblivious to me.  I waved my hand in front of his eyes but he never blinked.  I sat down on the sofa across from him and examined him.  It was definitely Peter.

He was wearing the same dark suit that he’d worn in the photo of himself and Henry together.  He even had on the same tie that he wore in the photo.

I sat watching him for a few minutes, building my nerve and then finally I said, “Peter, what are you doing here?  What do you want?”

I don’t know how to describe what happened next except to say that Peter seemed to gain substance.  A wave passed over him, bringing him into sharper focus somehow, making him more tangible.

His head turned so that his eyes looked into mine and I thought I might pass out.

“Oh, that’s much better.” he said.  “I couldn’t speak unless you spoke to me first.  Some rule or something.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Is that a new sofa?” he asked.

“A different sofa, new to the house.” I said.

“Henry liked the other one.  I can’t really see that much difference.”

He looked around the room and said, “You’ve kept everything the same.”

“I like it this way.” I said.  “There was nothing I wanted to change.”

“Well, that’s lucky for me.” Peter replied.  “If you had come in and cleared the place out and brought in all new stuff, I wouldn’t be able to sit.  I’d be walking through your furniture.  Same with doorways.  People block up the old doorways, then they get all upset when someone like me walks through the wall where it used to be.”

“What’s it like?” I asked.

“Walking through walls?  I don’t really know, I’ve never done it.  But, I’m sure that I wouldn’t notice.  I’d still see the old doorway rather than the wall.  In my situation, I can only see things as they were before.  I mean, I can see new things but I can’t retain them.  It’s like my brain got stuck on that last day and I can’t absorb new information, only what was already there.  Understand?”

“I think so.” I said.  “That must be sort of comforting.”

I tried to restrain myself but finally I blurted, “Am I hallucinating you?”

“I don’t think so.” he said.  “Maybe I’m hallucinating you.  Things have gotten pretty confusing.”

He stopped and looked down at himself.

“I’ve always hated this suit.” he said.  “It never was comfortable.  And these shoes, they always pinched, that’s why I never wore them when I was alive.  Then they buried me in them.  It would have made so much more sense to put me in a nice pair of pajamas.”

The unreality of the situation was too much for me to ignore.

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in my own living room believing that I’m talking to someone who died before I was born.”

“Technically, it’s my living room and as for the rest, it’s your own fault.”

I was speechless and I just looked at him.

“It is, you know.  You’re the one who kept thinking about me and mooning over the photos.  You called me back, so deal with it.”

“That was never my intention.” I said.

“Yeah, well, tough titty.  Could you do me a favor?”

“I suppose.” I said.

“Go in the other room and look at the album.  Especially those photos of Henry and myself on the beach.  Then come back.”  He grinned and added, “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here.”

I got up and walked across the hall and got the album out of the sideboard.  I turned to the photos he’d mentioned and pored over them but they were just the same as always, I didn’t see anything new or anything different.

 

I closed the album and went back across the hall.  Peter was sitting in the same spot except now he was dressed in the clothing he’d worn for the photos on the beach.

“This is a much more pleasant outfit.” he said.  “I had to change your thoughts of me to get out of those clothes.”

I picked up my mug and took a swallow and Peter then said, “Is that coffee?”

I nodded and he continued, “I haven’t had a cup of coffee since the morning of the day I died.  Let me taste it.”

I handed him the mug, afraid that it would go right through his hand but he grasped the handle and sipped from the cup.

“I’d forgotten how good that tastes.” he said.  “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to taste it.”

He set the mug down and said, “When I was alive, it was the custom to offer guests refreshments.  People always go on about how they want to see a ghost, and then when they do they never even think to ask them if they’d like a cup of coffee.”

“You’re not exactly the standard guest, now are you?” I asked.  “Besides, I’m having a hard enough time processing all of this without worrying about minding my manners.  How am I to know what you can or can‘t do?”

“Basically, I can do whatever you anticipate.  Your belief of what I can do dictates my ability.  Do you have any cookies?”

“I certainly didn’t anticipate serving lunch to a dead person today, I can tell you that.”

“I like my coffee black.” Peter said and then sat looking at me expectantly.

I went back to the kitchen.  There was a tray that I’d noticed on one of the cupboard shelves, I got it down and wiped it and then placed a mug and a plate on it.  I filled the mug and had just filled the plate with cookies when someone knocked at the front door.

I picked up the tray and proceeded down the hallway.  In the front room. Peter was nowhere to be seen.  He’d simply vanished.

Balancing the tray on one hand, I opened the door.

On the porch stood a young man.  I was struck dumb, he was so handsome.  He resembled a young Hugh Jackman with curly hair.  He had twinkling blue eyes with fine lines radiating from the ends.  You could see that his beard was a problem, even this early in the day he’d already developed 5 o’clock shadow.  With wide shoulders and a small waist, his body resembled Hugh Jackman’s, too.

He opened the screen door and took the tray from my hand.

“How nice.” he said.  “How did you know I hadn’t eaten any lunch?”

He carried the tray over to the porch swing, set it on the porch floor and his bottom on the swing, and then picked up the mug and a couple of cookies.

“Was I expecting you?” I asked, stepping outside.

“My Auntie Ida said you were.  I’m the local handyman.  No job too big or too small.  She sent me over to check your locks and such; she said you’re nervous about being out here all alone.”

“I’d totally forgotten.” I replied.

He was looking me over with a slight smile while I twisted in the wind.  I was still tongue tied gazing at him.  He seemed to know the effect he was having.

He patted the swing seat and said, “Why don’t you sit down here beside me and tell me what you’d like me to do?”  He said it so innocently but with such a smirking grin, I was sure that he was playing with me.

“I’d have to think about it.” I said as I sat down.  “What are you good at?”

He gave me an appraising cool stare and replied, “I guess I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades.  I like to think I can fill any need that arises and I always make sure that I do an excellent job.”

He sat staring at me with a self satisfied smile and I suddenly remembered Casey.  I hadn’t flirted with anyone since our early days and I felt like I was betraying him.

I stood up and said, “I’ll be inside if you want to finish your coffee and cookies.  Just come in whenever you’re ready.”  I went to the door and slipped inside while he watched me with a confused look.

I walked through each of the downstairs room but Peter was still nowhere to be seen.  Now, I really was questioning my sanity.  Back in the front room, I picked up my mug and drained it of the remaining cold coffee.

I heard the screen door open so I went into the hallway just as he stepped inside.

“My name is Gene, by the way.” he said, extending his hand to shake.

 

“Ed.” I replied.  “Ed Bunce.”

He looked around and said, “My aunt said that you hadn’t changed anything here.  This place looks like a trip back in time.”

I glanced around, seeing the house as he must be seeing it.

“Maybe I’m trying to make time stand still.” I said.

“Well, that’ll never do.  A good looking man like you ought to be out ripping and roaring and grabbing life by the balls.”

I had to laugh.  “It’s been a long time since I was even tempted.” I said.

He gave me one of those long cool stares again, and then began to move around the house.  After entering the living room, he stood in front of the photos of Peter and Henry on the wall.

“And who are these handsome men?” he asked.

“They’re the previous owners.  I kept the photos where they’ve always been, I couldn’t bear to take them down.”

He gave me that stare again and asked, “You like looking at handsome men, then?”

I was suddenly so tired that I felt like I might collapse.  Playing cat and mouse with a conceited asshole was too much to put up with.

“Look,” I said, “I’m really not up to this today.  Can you come back some other time; I need to lay down for awhile.”

I was shooing him toward the door the way one would a flock of chickens and when we reached the door, I reached around him and opened it.

“I’ll let your aunt know a good time for you to come by again.” I said, closing the screen door and then the interior one.  Gene stood for a few moments looking at the closed door before finally turning and walking away.

I stood in the hallway until I heard his truck start up and then pull away before going back into the living room.  Peter was once again sitting in the plush armchair.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Ida’s nephew.” I replied, distracted.

“He’s a real looker, isn’t he?” Peter said.  “I like Ida.  She used to come and spend time here and think about me and Henry.  She never did it enough that she made me show up; I used to just be in the same room with her and watch her.  She’s a nice lady.  Her nephew drank my coffee and ate my cookies, though.”

“I can get you more.” I said.

I opened the door and went out to retrieve the tray from the porch.  When I did, I saw Gene’s truck parked a bit down the road and watched him pull away.

After pouring more coffee and adding more cookies, I carried the tray into the front room and set it down in front of Peter.  He picked up the coffee and took a long drink, then nibbled on a cookie while I sat watching.

Finally he said, “What?  Why are you staring at me?”

“If you are a figment of my imagination, I don’t suppose you’d be having cookies and coffee.” I said.

“Maybe I’m not really having them.” he said.  “In which case, there’s going to be a terrible stain on this chair.”

I sat across from him, trying not to stare, and something occurred to me.

“Where do you go, when you’re not here?” I asked.

“I couldn’t really say.  It’s sort of like going to sleep, I’m not aware of anything until I get called back.”

“Is Henry here, too?”

“No, no way.  He went on when he died.  He’s somewhere else.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Probably because I’m an idiot.” he said, looking upset.  “When you die, something happens and you leave.  I wasn’t even aware that I’d died.  I was so busy stacking wood; I was oblivious to everything around me.  It finally dawned on me that I’d been stacking the same logs over and over forever and none of them seemed to have even been lifted.  When I turned around, the sheriff was already there and Henry was crying his eyes out.  I saw myself lying on the ground, surrounded by blood and I guessed what had happened.  Apparently, I missed my big chance to go elsewhere.”

“That’s terrible.” I said.  “Don’t you get a second chance?”

“I haven’t so far.  I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.  Watching Henry grow old and sad and weak should be enough punishment, if that’s what I’m getting.  He wasted the rest of his life because he felt so guilty.”

“Did he ever see you, afterward I mean?”

“He was too frightened.  He couldn’t bear to consciously think of me and when he would do so by accident, he always tried to think of something else.  He was afraid that I was mad at him and I’d appear as some evil spirit or something.  Sometimes, he couldn’t resist, though, so I got to visit him once in awhile.”

He seemed to look at me more intently.

“Henry was a very loving man.” he said.  “I hate to think that he wasted his life over something neither of us could control.  I wanted him to be happy, not locked away from the world in this house.”

He stared at me for a few moments more and then said, “You remind me of Henry.”

That was a bit much.

“Oh, wonderful.” I said.  “Now I’m getting advice-to-the-lovelorn from a figment of my imagination.  For a ghost, you’re really annoying.”

I got up from my chair and walked out into the hallway.

“I’m going for a drive.” I said.  “Try to dematerialize while I’m gone.”

Once on the road, I had an idea.  I drove into town and parked in front of the library.  Thankfully, they were open.

I explained to the librarian that I was looking for books on the paranormal, specifically ghosts.  She gave me an odd look but showed me how to use the computer card catalogue.  They didn’t have an extensive collection but I found some books that I thought might be helpful in dealing with my situation.  After applying for and receiving my library card, I had to make two trips to the car to load every thing up.  On my second trip in, the librarian said, “There are also several websites dealing with your interest.  We have terminals that you can use for free, so keep that in mind.”

I thanked her and left.  I didn’t feel like going home so I stopped in Betty’s Bargain Barn.

“How do you like your sofa?” she asked as soon as she saw it was me.

“I love it.  I love everything I bought from you.  May I look around some more?”

“Let me know if there’s anything that interests you.” she replied.

I wandered through the maze of the shop and I spotted several items that looked worth further investigation.  In the back of the shop, though, the wall was covered with shelves of books.  I skimmed through the titles and found three volumes of ghost stories.

I carried them to the front of the store to pay for them and when Betty saw what they were, she actually shivered.

“You wouldn’t catch me out there all alone in that house and reading ghost stories of a night.” she said.

“So you believe in ghosts?”

“I’ve heard stories, made my blood run cold.  I’d be afraid I’d look up some night and see that fellow who died staring in the window at me, his head awash with blood.”

“Ida sent her nephew over to check my door and window locks, she must fear the same thing.” I told Betty.

Her expression changed to almost a smug look.

“So Gene was out there already, huh?  I wondered how long that would take.  He’s used to being the best looking man in town so I’m sure he doesn’t like the competition.”

“Competition from whom?” I asked.  

Then, it dawned on me what she meant and I burst out laughing.

“Surely you don’t mean from me.” I said.  “Little children don’t run out of the room screaming when they see me, but I’m hardly in his league for looks.”

“The first few days after you came to town, the gossip was that you were some famous actor hiding out here.  Don’t sell yourself short.” she said.

“Betty, I’m just your basic Georgia white trash.  Up until I inherited money, I didn’t have two pennies of my own to rub together.  Next time you hear someone say something like that about me, tell them they need to raise their standards.”

That conversation kept me giggling all of the way back to the house.  I carried all of my books inside and then stopped to look at myself in the hall mirror.  I looked the same as always, maybe a little more worn.  I wasn’t ever going to win any beauty prizes, in my opinion.

“Staring at yourself in the mirror is a sign of vanity.” someone said.

I looked over to see Peter standing in the living room doorway.

“Aren’t you supposed to moan or rattle chains or something to announce yourself?” I asked.

“You have to pay extra for that, I’m the new economy model ghost.”

“And I want a refund.” I said.

He turned and I followed him into the room where he took his usual seat in the armchair.  I sat down on the sofa and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“When you’re not here, where do you go?”

“Nowhere, really.  It’s sort of like being asleep.  Sometimes I have a sort of dream when I’m being thought of, it can wake me up a bit, but most of the time there’s just nothing.  It’s like ‘Brigadoon’.”

He suddenly became more animated.

“I saw that on Broadway.” he said.  “Have you ever heard of it?”

“I saw the movie.  Gene Kelly and Van Johnson.”

“I would have liked to have seen the movie.” he said.  “Van Johnson is queer, you know.”

“I’ve heard.  Do you only wake up and appear if people are thinking of you?  Is that the trigger?”

“Let’s not talk about that.  Do they still give plays on Broadway?”

“Yes…” I said.  Before I could say more, he cut me off.

“The last Broadway play I saw was ‘A Streetcar Named Desire”.  Henry and I went to it.  There was an actor in it named Marlon Brando, we both thought he was really hot stuff.  Did he do anything else?”

“He went to Hollywood and became a big star.  But let me ask you…”

He cut me off again.  “We had friends who went to see that play every night for a month.” he said, smiling.  “Marlon Brando knew the boys were all in love with him.  On nights when he thought there might be a lot of queer boys in the audience, he’d come out on stage with no underwear on under his costumes.  You could see his big fat dick bouncing around all the way from the balcony.  The leading lady finally complained to the director and said she’d walk out unless they started making him wear jockey shorts.  It gave you a certain cachet in the city if you could say that you were at one of his “unfettered” performances.”

“That’s very interesting, Peter, but I want to ask you about something.  If you aren’t really around unless someone is thinking of you, consciously or unconsciously, what happens if there is no one.  What if this house burns down and all of the pictures are destroyed?  What if Ida and I both die?  If there’s no one left to remember you, do you just disappear?”

“I guess that’s how it works, I don’t know.”  He looked uncomfortable.

“But that hardly seems fair.  Don’t you want to see Henry again?  Doesn’t he deserve to see you again?”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about this.” he said in a loud voice, then jumped up and walked out into the hallway.  When I followed him, he wasn’t there and when I made a circuit of the first floor, he’d vanished.

 

It somehow seemed appropriate that I’d have to get a temperamental ghost.

The rest of the afternoon I waited but he didn’t make an appearance.  I ate a light supper and then decided to tackle the books I’d brought home.  Sitting on the sofa in the circle of lamplight with the music on the radio, I never gave Peter another thought.

The books were little or no help.  It seems that there is very little legitimate research on ghosts, mostly just folklore.  Studying the books did start a train of thought, though.  There had to be some way, I told myself, that I could reunite Peter and Henry.  I just didn’t know how.

It wasn’t until someone knocked on the front door that I looked up and saw that it was 10PM.

Ida was the only one I could think who might be calling this late but when I switched on the porch light, Gene stood outside.  He raised a wine bottle in one hand and two stemmed glasses in the other.

I opened the door a crack and said, “What do you want?”

“Can I come in?” he asked.  “I brought some really good wine.”

I looked at him in the lamplight for a moment before swinging the door open.

“Come in.” I said.  “Only because I’m dying for a glass of wine.”

He grinned and stepped inside and then followed me into the living room.  I moved some of the books off of the sofa and we both sat down.  He had a corkscrew on his keychain and he opened the wine and poured us each a glass.

“I don’t know what kind of snacks I have.” I said.  “Maybe some cheese?”

“Let’s just enjoy the wine.” he replied.

“I haven’t eaten much today.  It may go to my head.”

“I’ll be right here in case you decide to do anything silly.” he said, grinning.

I set the wine glass down and said, “Are you always this obnoxious?”

“Only when I’m nervous.” he replied.  “Actually, I came over to apologize for earlier today.  When I see something I want that I’m not sure I can have, I tend to over do it.”

I looked at his hand and I could see a fading groove where a ring had been on his ring finger.

“Does your wife know that you’re here?” I asked.

‘No, I’m divorced.  Almost two months now.”

“I’m sorry.” I said.

“I’m not.  Neither is she.  The whole thing was a big mistake and when I finally admitted that to myself, we were both a lot happier.  I still love her in a way but she’s not what I need.”

I took a sip of wine, wondering where this conversation was leading.

“This is a really nice room.” Gene said, looking around.  “It feels calm and homey.  And you can hear the ocean outside.”

“The two fellows who lived here, they must have been a lot like me.  I’ve never felt so at home anywhere.”

“I think they must have been a lot like me, too.” he said, gazing at me.

I was debating telling him it was my bedtime so he’d need to leave when he picked up one of the library books.

“What’s all of this?” he asked.  “Are you taking a class?”

“I was just reading up on something.” I said.  I was beginning to feel the effects of the wine, making me feel warm and loose limbed.

He picked the books up from one of the stacks and looked at the title of each in turn.

“Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.” he said.  “Are you planning on holding a séance?”

Could I summon up Henry and have him take Peter with him when he left, I wondered?

“Just a sudden interest.” I said.  “Why are you here?”

“So much for subtlety.” he said.  “I’m here because I’m lonely and as soon as I saw you this morning, I knew I wanted to get to know you better.  Much, much better, if possible.”

“I’m not exactly interested in becoming another notch on the belt of a small town Lothario.” I said.

“Maybe you should stick to local conquests.”

His face flushed and I could see that he was angry.

“I don’t have any notches.” he said.  “I never cheated on my wife, even when I was tempted.  I had a few experiences before I was married but that’s it.  Maybe I should be worried about being the conquest of a big city asshole instead.”

He turned away to look in the opposite direction and finally I said, “I apologize.  Up until just a while ago, I was in a relationship, a long, long relationship.  I’m not used to playing these games any more.”

“Then let’s not play games.” he said.  “What happened?  Divorce?”

“He died.” I replied.  “After a long and horrible illness.  I’m still not coping very well.”

His face softened and he said, “I really am sorry.  You were together a long time?”

“Just over twenty years.” I said.  “He had a genetic disease and it got progressively worse.”  The wine had loosened my tongue and I could feel tears behind my eyes.  “I’d better not talk about this anymore.”

 

“That must have been really tough.” he said.  “And a really horrible experience.  That’s why you came here.”

“I needed someplace different, someplace that didn’t have any memories.  And, I wanted to be near the sea.  It feels like it could protect you if you needed it.”

He smiled and said, “Most people are afraid of the sea.  They’d be afraid of living in this spooky house, too.”

“I guess I’m not like most people, then.  I felt at home here as soon as I walked through the front door.”

He slid his hand over the cushions and grasped mine.

“You certainly aren’t like anyone else as far as I’m concerned.” he said.

“Are you being romantic now?” I asked.

“I’d like to be.  I’d like to be very romantic.”  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my palm.  I hadn’t been kissed in a very long time and I could feel heat course through my body.

“Plying me with wine so that you can take advantage of me?” I asked.

“If that’s what it takes.” he said.  “But I’d really rather we take advantage of each other.”

He forcefully pulled me over to his side of the sofa, reclining so that I was on top of him.  When he started to kiss me, I didn’t resist.  I hadn’t been kissed like that since I was teenager.  His tongue probed my mouth and because of the wine and because it was him, I couldn’t help but respond.  Our bodies fit together perfectly and I simply abandoned myself to the process.

Lying on top of him with his tongue in my mouth, my cock was hard as iron and I could feel his dick rubbing against mine.  Then, suddenly, Casey came to mind and I struggled to stand up.

“This is a bad idea.” I said and started to walk toward the hallway.

He leapt up behind me and wrapped his arms around my torso, holding me against him.  I could feel his stiff cock against my ass.

“I think it’s a great idea.” he said into my ear.  “I think it’s the best idea I’ve heard of in years.”

I couldn’t help but lay back against his body.

“I’m really fucked up.” I said.  “I think I’m losing my mind.”

 

“Have you had the urge to stab anybody or choke them to death?” he asked.

I laughed and said, “No, nothing like that.”

“Then I’ll take my chances.” he said.  “Why don’t you invite me to spend the night?”

“It’s been a long time, I can’t guarantee anything.”

 

“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” he replied.

It was hard climbing the steps.  He was entwined around my body and didn’t want to let go.  Every few steps he’d stop to kiss me kiss my neck; run his hands over my body.  It’s a wonder we made it upstairs at all.

I directed our bodies into my room where Gene turned me around while standing in the middle of the floor.  He started kissing me again, his passion undiminished, and our stiff cocks ground against each other.  We must have stood that way for 15 minutes, our mouths glued together and each of us cupping the cheeks of the other’s ass.

He broke our oral connection so that he could pull my tee shirt over my head, and then arched his head back to look at me.

“I knew you were in good shape but I didn’t think like this.” he said as he stroked my hard chest and tight stomach.

“I haven’t been to the gym in at least 6 months.” I replied.

“Then I can’t wait to see you when you get back into the habit.” he said.

He lowered his head so that he could lick each of my hard nipples, and then nibbled at them, causing my cock to lurch against him.

He pulled me over to the edge of the bed and sat down in front of me.  I didn’t resist as he unbuckled my belt and eased my zipper down, then lowered my trousers to the floor.  My tight jockey shorts were straining to hold my cock in and when he put his thumbs into each side of the waist band and pulled them down, my stiff cock flopped out and stood straight up.

Gene wrapped his hand around my cock shaft and said, “Well, hello to you too, big boy.  Very glad to make your acquaintance.”  He cupped my ball sack in his other hand while he stroked my cock.

“Your turn to get undressed.” I told him and pulled him to his feet.  

I unbuttoned his soft chambray shirt until it hung open.  His muscular chest was covered in a mat of dark hair that reached from his collar bones to his belt.  I stroked the warm fur and he almost purred with pleasure.  His hard pecs each had a stiff pointed nipple and when I lightly pinched one, his hips pressed hard against mine.

I sat down where he had been and began to unbuckle his belt.  When I looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his face was pointed at the ceiling.  I slowly unbuttoned his pants waist, and then very slowly lowered his zipper so that he could feel my hand moving over his hard crotch.  When I lowered his pants, he wasn’t wearing any underwear.  His fat cock was at least as long as mine, maybe even longer.  His hairy ball sack held a pair of large orbs that I couldn’t resist lifting in my hand to feel their weight.  The entire front of his body was covered in that rug of hair from his neck to his balls and I snuggled my face into his pubes, his stiff dick against the side of my face.  He smelled delicious, a combination of male musk and soap.

He reached down and hauled me to my feet, hands beneath my armpits and began to kiss me again.  His ass cheeks in my hands felt even better now that they were bare and I let one finger slide into his hairy ass crack and explore.  His hands, meanwhile, were both deep in the valley of my ass, spreading my cheeks open.

He pushed me back so that I fell onto the bed with him on top of me.  He kissed me even deeper, his hands roaming over my body.  When I grasped the hot shaft of his dick in my hand, he rolled me over on the bed so that I was now on top.  With my other hand I cupped the back of his head so that I could devour his mouth like I was eating a peach.  He lay totally submissive beneath me until I began to kiss and lick his neck, then he turned us over again so that he could pin me down.  Holding my stiff cock in a tight grasp, he began to explore my ear with his tongue, causing me to buck under him and cause the bedsprings to squeal.

“Weak in the ear.” he whispered.  “I’ll certainly remember that.”

I brought my hands up to his chest and stroked the hair until I located his stiff nipples, then tweaked each one with my finger tips.  His hips arched against mine, causing the whole bed to bounce.

“Hot wired nipples.” I whispered back.  “Now I know your weak spot, too.”

“Can I suck your dick?” he asked.

“Only if I can suck yours back.”

We disengaged our arms from around each other and he swung his body around so that we were laying head to toe on our sides.  His big stiff dick was in front of my face, his heavy balls hanging off to the side and almost reaching the mattress.   I could feel the heat radiating off of him on my face.

I gasped when I felt his warm mouth close around my cock head.  It had been a very long time since I’d felt that.  His lips slid down my shaft until I could feel the satiny back of his throat running against my dick head.

I stuck out my tongue and as I held his burning cock shaft in my hand, I began to lick the clear juice that was running out of his piss slit.  He moaned and thrust his hips forward.  My tongue played over the wide head, tracing patterns on his flesh.  He kept up a low crooning moan.  When I closed my mouth around the plum shaped head, his whole body jumped.  It felt as if his cock had been specially made to fill my mouth.

His cock had a salty flavor mixed with a taste that reminded me of apricots.

 

I rolled him over so that my knees were on either side of his head and I was hovering above him.

 Gripping the big stiff cock by the base, I began to bob my head up and down on it, forcing as much meat as possible down my throat.  At the same time, I began to fuck his mouth, using my hips to slide my cock in and out.  He grasped my ass cheeks and encouraged me to go deeper.  My balls were resting on his face and he used one of his fingers to stroke my ass hole, visible to him between my wide spread cheeks.

I rolled over again, this time so that he was on top.  He began to slide his mouth up and down on my cock and fucked my mouth as I’d done his.  I popped his cock out of my throat so that I could take one of his big balls in my mouth.  I ran my tongue over it and pulled it tight in the sack.  When I let it pop out from between my lips, he jumped with pleasure.  Holding his stiff cock and stroking it, I sucked and tongued his other round nut.  I could see his tightly puckered ass hole, pulsing with pleasure and after I released the second ball, I began to lick his taint.

He rocked his body on top of me, taking my cock far down his throat.  When my tongue lapped his hot hole, he almost levitated off of the bed.  I used my tongue to lick the tiny hole like an ice cream cone and he soon started his moan again.  When I stiffened my tongue and speared it into his pucker, he released my cock from his mouth so that he could let out a throat deep groan.  I pulled his hips back so that he was sitting astride my face and my tongue fucked his ass like a prick.  He rode up and down, moaning the whole time.

After a time, he leaned forward and sucked my dripping cock back into his throat.  I grabbed his steely dick and swallowed it almost to the root.  We were both close to cumming, his balls tightly clutched against his body, mine being manhandled while my cock was serviced.

We came at exactly the same moment.  I arched my body up to feed him my dick while pulling his hips down to force more of his cock into my throat.  He released such a flood of hot juice that I had trouble swallowing fast enough.  At the same time, the long pent up load of cum that burst out of my balls had me seeing stars.

The two of us curled together, nursing each other’s shrinking cock.  I wanted every drop of him and apparently he felt the same way about me.  I didn’t take my mouth off of him until he was entirely soft.

He sat up and said, “Come ‘ere, you!” while grabbing my arm and pulling me up next to him.

Lying face to face, he first kissed me.  I could taste my cum on his tongue.

“I thought I knew what it was like to be with a man but no one ever gave me an orgasm like that before.” he said.

“Just one of our friendly services.” I replied.

His hands began roaming over my body again, massaging and squeezing until they came to rest once more cupping my ass cheeks.

“I want you to fuck me.” he said.

“I want you to fuck me, too.” I replied.

“But I’m not prepared.”

“And neither am I, I wasn’t expecting any of this.” I said while laughing.

“I guess we’ll have to put it off until next time.” Gene said.

“So, you’re already planning a next time?” I asked.

He got a serious look, almost pissed off.

“I don’t do hook ups.” he said.  “Did I misjudge the situation?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t even know what the situation is.  I told you, I’m fucked up.” I said.

“Then we’ll just have to explore the situation together.” he said.  “Right now, I need to get some sleep.  I have to work tomorrow.”

The thought that had been niggling at me all evening came again.  Was Peter somewhere nearby, watching what went on?

I fell asleep snuggled up to Gene’s hairy chest, inhaling his aroma.  Several times in the night, we awoke to kiss each other, to caress each other’s cock or to just pull each other close.  Even so, it was the most restful night I’d had in years.

When I awoke it was dawn and Gene was fully dressed, standing beside the bed.

 

“I made coffee.” he said.  “You need to get better breakfast food, too.”

He leaned down and gave me a deep kiss that made my cock stand up and take notice.

 

He grasped my stiff dick through the sheet and said, “That will have to wait.  I like the idea of leaving you wanting me, anyway.”

Hew turned and left, first down the stairs, then out the door and then I heard his engine as he drove away.  I curled up and went back to sleep.

I didn’t wake again until nine o’clock.  After showering, I walked downstairs craving coffee.

In the kitchen, Peter was seated at the table when I walked in.

“My, my, my, my, my!” he said.  “My old bed has probably never seen a night like that.”

“I wondered if you were spying on us.” I said.

“I wasn’t spying.  It was your fault.  You kept thinking of me, just enough so that I was there but not all of the way.  But I was there enough to see that gorgeous naked man.”

“Do ghosts get horny?”

“After what I saw last night, can you blame me?  Va-va-voom!  What a body.  And what a cock.”

He looked at me for a moment and then he said, “You’ve got a pretty big cock, too.  I wish Henry had been here so he could have seen you two in action.  Is he spending the night again?”

“He wants to but we’ll see.  I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this yet.”

“You looked pretty ready last night.  You really are crazy if you let that one get away.”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t need romantic advice from a ghost.  Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, please.  I want to experience that again.”

I poured a mug for each of us and then sat down across from him.

“Did you and Henry have a good sex life?” I asked.

“What there was of it.  We were always afraid that someone would find out, we could have been arrested.  We did what we could when we could but we had to keep up appearances.  When we were able to get together, it was like nothing on this earth.”

“I’m glad.” I said.  “At least you had some happiness together before the accident.”

He sat gazing into space for a few moments and then he said, “You know how the walls in my bedroom are made out of boards?  In the corner, under the window, there’s a board that can be removed down at the baseboard.  It was my secret hiding place where I kept my most personal things.  You should take a look.”

“Would that be okay with you?”

“Sure, I got a pretty good look at some of your intimates last night.”

He drained his cup and then rose and walked into the hallway.  I thought that he’d return but he didn’t.

I cleaned up the morning dishes and went out to the front porch.  It looked like there might be a storm going on out at sea, the waves were bigger than usual and tipped with foam.  A cool wind buffeted the house and me.  The gray sky was filled with clouds that moved swiftly across the expanse.  I hadn’t yet experienced a storm here.

I sat on the porch as long as possible, thinking over the last 24 hours.  I’d been celibate for a long time.  Was I ready for a sexual relationship?  Or, for that matter, any other kind?  Would Casey have wanted me to stay faithful to him?

When the storm arrived it was with a vengeance.   The rain came down in huge bursts, not separate rain drops.  It was like someone was emptying buckets of water from the clouds.

I went indoors and sat for a while in the front room, watching the storm and the sea.  The light had a silver sheen that I hadn’t seen before and it made the room around me a different place.

It was after 4 PM when I remembered Peter’s instructions regarding his secret hiding place.  I went up to the bedroom and lit the lamp and angled the shade so that it illuminated the corner.  At first I couldn’t find the movable boards.  It turned out that you had to grip the edge of the baseboard and pull before the space came open.  It was dark inside and I didn’t really relish sticking my hand into the opening but I did so.  Inside, I could feel the cool surface of a metal box.  I withdrew it from the dark tomb.

It was an oblong metal box that had once held a fruitcake, according to the painted labels.  I carried it over to the bed and sat down with it on my lap.  The lid didn’t want to open and it was only when I pressed my nails along the front crack and pulled up that the top finally shifted.

The first thing visible was a stack of photos.  I lifted them out and began to look at them.  The first several were of Peter and Henry together and separately out on the shore.  They both wore heavy looking bathing trunks that were cut high at the waist and leg openings that were similar to old fashioned jockey shorts.  Even though they were so bulky, they were kind of sexy.

Peter and Henry had both had slim bodies that were very different from today’s gym toned physiques.

They both had no body fat but their muscles were flat and smooth, rather than bulked up.  Neither of them had noticeable body hair and they seemed very pale.

The next few pictures were more teasing.  They were pulling their suits down to show their pubic hair to the camera, acting shocked at the other’s antics.  Then there was a photo of Henry exposing his bare bottom while Peter sat laughing on the sand.  In the next photo, they were standing side by side, Henry’s arm draped over Peter’s shoulders, with their backs to the camera and their suits lowered, displaying their butts.  Both of them had very rounded, lush buns that would turn heads even today.

In the next photo, they had removed their suits and were holding them coyly in front of their cocks and balls while laughing, heads flung back.

Next photo, Peter had grabbed Henry’s trunks and was holding them above his head while a nude Henry reached for them.  His silhouetted cock showed that not only was he pretty well hung, he was half hard.

Next, Henry had grabbed both pairs of trunks from Peter and was running away from him while Peter stood staring brazenly at the camera and smirking.  He had a very nice sized uncut cock that was standing out from his body in a downward arc, rapidly inflating.

The next photo showed the two of them side by side again, facing the camera with fully erect cocks.  They were roughly the same size, larger than average and both had big balls hanging down.  Henry was covering his mouth laughing and it looked from the position of Peter’s hidden hand that he was groping Henry’s ass.

The final picture showed the two of them standing belly to belly nude and sharing a deep kiss with their arms wrapped around each other.

They looked so alive and so happy.  I already knew the depressing end to the story and I felt like crying.  Strangely, at the same time, I felt much better.  If Peter were merely a product of my mental illness then I never would have known to look for his secret hiding place.

He didn’t reappear until later that evening.  I was listening to the radio and reading when I noticed him sitting across from me.

“Henry and I looked pretty good, didn’t we?” he asked.

“You were both really hot men.  You looked even hotter as a couple.  But how did you ever have those pictures taken?”

“Henry was the really handsome one.  Sometimes I couldn’t believe that he ever saw anything in me.  The pictures were taken by a friend of ours who we‘d known in the city.  We both had had a little fling with him and he was the one who introduced us.  He worked as a photographer, so he had his own darkroom and everything.  One weekend he came up for a visit and he took our pictures.”

He sat staring into space and so I asked, “Do you get lonely for Henry?”

“Of course I do, when I think of him.” Peter replied.

 

“Isn’t there any way you can contact him?  After all, you’re both dead now.”

“It doesn’t work that way.  He moved on.  I’m stuck here.  I have no way to contact him.”

“Gene said something last night that got me wondering.  He asked if I was intending to hold a séance. Do you think that if I did and we contacted Henry, he could take you back with him?”

“I doubt it, I don’t believe in séances anyway.  You’re making me upset.”

He rose and walked into the hallway.  I didn’t bother to follow.

I spent the rest of the evening musing over my idea.  I had summoned up Peter; maybe Henry wouldn’t be so difficult, too.  Ida had said that she could feel a presence in the house; I could enlist her to help.  I resolved to talk to her first thing in the morning.

I went up to bed and as I lay waiting for sleep to come, I couldn’t help thinking about how attractive and sexy Peter and Henry had been.  In my younger days, I would have hit on either or both of them if I’d gotten the chance.  I finally drifted off with a throbbing erection.

I have no idea how long I was asleep but I suddenly jerked awake to find Peter standing at the foot of the bed.  I’d forgotten to turn off the bedside light.  Peter stood before me, totally nude with a straining erection.

“You’ve been thinking naughty thoughts about me.” he said.

He certainly didn’t appear “ghostly”.  Instead, he looked like a healthy young man in the prime of life.  His body was muscular and hairless and there was s flush of pink making his cock and balls darker.

 

“I confess I have.” I said.  “It looks like you’ve been having some of your own.”  I indicated his stiff dick.

He pushed his big dick down and then let it go so that it slapped against his abdomen and said, “I don’t remember this as being this big.  You must have been making unconscious improvements.”

“It certainly couldn’t be improved upon now.”

“Are you hard too?” he asked.

I slid the covers down so that he could see my stiff cock lying against my belly.

“That looks even prettier than last night.” he said.

 

I lay there admiring his body and cock until finally I had to ask, “Are you able to have sex?”

“I don’t think so, I don’t think I’m that…solid.” he said.  He grasped his big hard dick and stroked it.

“We could jerk off together.” I said.

“We could, there’s nothing to stop that.” he said smiling.  

He climbed onto the bed as I pulled my legs up and bent them at the knee.  Inches from me, he stopped and sat back on his haunches.  He gorgeous uncut cock was standing straight up from his crotch, the foreskin half pulled back to expose the shiny head.

I grasped my stiff shaft in my hand and began to stroke up and down it.  He watched me and then did the same.  His loose foreskin slid back and forth over his fat cock head, sometimes entirely covering it, sometimes exposing it entirely.

“It’s really hot to watch a guy beat an uncut cock.” I said.

“I like a cut guy.” Peter said.

 

His heavy balls were swinging back and forth as he stroked and I could get an occasional glimpse of his tight crack.  I wondered what his hole looked like, what it would be like to fuck him.

“Now you’re making my ass hot, you dirty old man.” Peter said.  “You must be thinking of it.”

“I was fantasizing about sticking my dick in you.” I said.  “I bet you were a helluva hot fuck.”

I was jerking my dick hard now and I could feel myself beginning to ready to shoot.

“I was,” Peter said, “either giving or receiving.  Henry and I used to fuck like rabbits every chance we got.  We were both great at sucking dick, too.”

He was pounding his cock in front of me, his knees flexing so that he bounced up and down with his cock in his hand.

“Do you think you’re able to cum?” I asked.

No sooner said than done.  A thick gout of cum blasted out of his cock, into the air.  Instead of falling on the bed it floated up into the air and disappeared.

My own load squirted over my belly instead of disappearing.  I was coated from the chin down with hot juice as I watched Peter finish himself off.  When his balls were drained, he fell over on his side laughing.

“That’s not a very flattering reaction.” I said.

“It’s not you.” he said, barely able to control his giggles. He gathered up some of his cum from his cock head and flicked it upward where it rose and disappeared.

“Ectoplasm!” he said and began laughing again.  I couldn’t help but laugh, too.

He got off of the bed and went to sit in the corner chair.  I closed my eyes and when I peeped again, he was gone.

The next morning he didn’t appear so after breakfast I drove myself to Ida’s.  She heard the car arrive and came out onto her porch.

“Would you do something weird if I asked you to?” I said, standing at the porch steps.

She paused a moment and then said, “That would depend on what and how weird.”

“Would you come over and help me hold a séance tonight?  I want to see if I can summon Henry.”

She got a slightly perplexed, slightly peeved look and said, “Maybe you’re getting to wound up in the Peter and Henry story.”

“I’m working on getting over it.” I said.

“Did Gene show up at your place?” she asked, off the subject.

“Yes, he did.” I didn’t really feel like discussing her nephew and my interactions.  “Will you come over tonight?”

“I’ll be there after I watch my shows.” she said.  “About 10 but I can’t stay a long time.”

“That’s perfect.” I said.  “Thank you, Ida.”

 

I turned to go but before I left she said, “Gene’s a good boy.  You be nice to him.”

When I got back home, Peter was sitting in the living room.  Something else had occurred to me on the drive and as I sat down across from him I asked, “Have you ever been to the graveyard?”

“Henry and I spent an afternoon looking for his relatives.” Peter replied.  “It isn’t very interesting.”

“Would you like to visit Henry’s grave?”

He gave me a look that I couldn’t really interpret so I pushed on.

“I could drive you; you’ve ridden in cars before so it wouldn’t be breaking any rules or anything.  Maybe you’ll feel some connection or something if you’re right at his grave.”

He sat thinking and then he said, “I would.  I’d like to visit him, even though he’s not there.  I’d feel closer to him somehow.”

I led him outside to where I had parked my car and opened the passenger door.

“I can see the wheels and the seat.’ he said.  “The rest is all just a blur.”

“Just climb in and sit down.” I said.  ‘Don’t bump your head; the roof is probably lower than you’re used to.”

“Ghosts don’t bump their heads, dummy.” he replied.

When he was seated, I climbed in the driver’s side.  I started to tell him to wear his seatbelt, and then realized there was no point.

I started the engine and we embarked.

“Quieter than I’m used to.” Peter said.  “Rides lower, too.”

We rode along for a couple of miles.  We only had to cross one major intersection and as luck would have it, Gene was stopped on the other street, waiting for the light.

“Gene is up ahead on the right; I didn’t expect to see him.” I said and Peter craned to look.

 

As we drove past I waved and he looked at me as if he was confused.

“Mr. Big Dick looked like he swallowed a pickle.” Peter said with a grin.

When we arrived at the graveyard, I opened the door to let Peter out.  He looked around himself and then took off on his own.  He was ahead of me by several feet when he abruptly stopped.

“We’re here.” he said.

I looked past him and saw Henry’s headstone, a granite slab set into the ground.  The grave was neat and tidy, recently trimmed and there were flowers in a jar.  I knew that Ida was probably responsible.

I stepped to one side of Peter and walked forward to get a better look at the stone and Peter said, “Ouch, watch where you’re walking.”

I stopped and looked around and then saw that Peter’s headstone was beside Henry’s.  I was standing on his grave.

I jumped backward to what felt like a safe spot and said, “I’m so sorry!  Could you feel that?”

“No, you horse’s ass.  I was teasing you.”

Peter looked around and then said, “Still pretty boring here if you ask me.”

I walked along the edge of Henry’s grave and when I reached his headstone, I crouched down and rested my hand on it.

“Peter’s here, if you can hear me, Henry.” I said.  “I brought him to see you.  Are you nearby?”

“Are you crazy?” Peter said.  “You’re talking to a rock.”

“But he could be.” I said.  “His body is here.”

“And he’s somewhere else.  Nice graves, though.  They get lots of sun.”

I couldn’t help thinking about how beautiful Peter had looked the night before, nude on my bed and how his body now was probably bones and dust.  When I glanced up at him, he’d become a decomposed corpse out of a horror film.  I was so startled that I fell over backward.  When I looked up again, he was back to normal.

“That was really rude.” Peter said.  “Don’t do that!  And it was really uncomfortable, too.”

“I’m sorry, I just got to thinking.” I said.

“Well, don’t.  I didn’t like that at all.  I still have some vanity, even if I am dead.”

I sat up and placed my hand back on the granite slab.

“Come on, goofy, nobody’s home.  Let’s get back.” Peter said.

We drove back to the house in silence and when I pulled into the drive, I was surprised to see Gene’s truck parked there.  I turned to say something to Peter but he’d disappeared.

When I got out of my car, Gene also got out of his truck and met me halfway.

“I thought you might call me last night.” he said.

“I made an early night of it and went to bed.” I said.

He looked me up and down for a moment and then he said, “Who was the guy in the car with you earlier?”

I was shocked, unsure of what he was talking about and then it dawned on me that he must mean when we had passed at the crossroad.

“There was no one with me.” I said.

“It looked like there was a good looking guy sitting next to you.  When I blinked, he was gone, like he ducked down and hid.”

“I haven’t had a living soul in my car.” I said.  “Isn’t it kind of early to be getting possessive, anyway?”

“I was sure I saw someone.” he replied.  “It has really been bothering me.  I told you, I don’t do hookups.  I want to see more of you, a lot more of you.”

“Gene, maybe insanity is catching.  I know I’m going nuts, maybe you’re infected from me, too.”

“The only crazy I am is crazy about you.  Can I come over tonight?”

“That might be awkward.  Ida is planning to stop by late.”

“Maybe I can come by after she leaves?”

“I’ll call you.” I said.

 

I walked into the house before he could say any more.

Inside, Peter was in his usual chair.

“Gene thought he saw you earlier.” I said to him.

“I can make that happen for a few seconds when I really try.  It will do him good to feel jealous.”

“Please stay out of my love life.” I said and walked into the kitchen.

I didn’t see Peter the rest of the day, he knew that I was pissed about his little stunt with Gene and made himself scarce.  I spent the rest of the day reviewing my ghost books, reading everything even remotely related to séances.  When all is said and done, it seems all you really need is a dim room, some candles and something that belonged to the deceased, if possible.  I went upstairs to Henry’s room and checked his closet but all of his clothing had been disposed of in the cleaning.  I looked around, knowing that there had to be something.

My eyes lit on the dresser with its pair of brushes lined up on the top.  When I picked one of them up, there was still a number of gray hairs caught in the bristles.  I carried them downstairs.

It was starting to get dark when I set up a table and two chairs in the living room.  I placed the brushes in the center of the table and placed candles at points around the room.  Then, I sat down on the sofa to wait.

I must have dozed off; the next thing I knew was that someone was knocking at the door.  I jumped up and went to answer.

In the porch light, Ida was standing in front of the door in a pair of pajamas with a robe over the top, with a winter coat on top of it all.  Her hair was wound tightly in curlers and she’d wound a scarf turban style around her head.

The first thing she said when I opened the door was, “I must need my head examined, gallivanting all over kingdom come in the middle of the night.”

“I really appreciate it, Ida; you’re the only one who would understand.”

“Well let’s get busy.  Tom was asleep when I left; maybe I can get back home before he misses me.”

I led her into the living room.  Peter was sitting in his chair but she, of course, couldn’t see him.

“Lovely outfit.” Peter said.  “She didn’t have to dress up just for me.”

I glared at him and he smirked.

I walked around the room and lit the candles, then turned off the lamps.  After seating Ida at the table, I took my seat across from her.

“This is like a scene from the second feature on a double bill I saw when I was young.” Peter said.  “Except that was at Halloween.”

I ignored him and said to Ida, “We need to clasp hands and shut our eyes while I call on the spirits.”

“You both should have sipped some spirits before you started this.” Peter said.  “Maybe then you’d see something.”

Ida and I held hands on the table top, eyes closed and I said to the room, “We are calling on the spirit of Henry, who lived in this house.  We ask you to make yourself known.”

Nothing happened.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if you raised a giant hairball since you’re using his brush?” Peter said.

“Henry, we call you to come forward and communicate with us here in this room.” I said.

Nothing.

“Henry, come and reunite with the spirit of your friend Peter and take him back with you.”

“What, now you’re trying to bring them both back?” Ida asked.

“I just want to make sure that they’re together, wherever they are.” I told her.

I opened one eye and looked at her and she was doing the same to me.

“Maybe you’re not cut out for raising up ghosts.” she said.

“Well, we both know better than that.” Peter said.  “Maybe you should have tried this on Henry’s tombstone today.  There’s a lot more of him there than there is in his hairbrush.”

I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me.

“Ida,” I said, “can I ask one more favor and I’ll never ask for another.  Can we try this on Henry’s grave?”

“Go traipsing around the graveyard when there isn’t even a moon?  We’ll probably get shot for trespassing.”  She looked incredulous.

“Pleas, Ida, and I’ll never mention it again.  It won’t take long and maybe it will work.”

“I must be crazier than you are, going along with this.  Come on, let’s get it over with.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Peter said.  “I don’t like your driving.”

 

As we stepped out onto the porch Ida looked at the sky.

“There’s a storm blowing, better wear your boots.”

“I don’t have any.” I said.

She tsk’ed and said, “Come along.” and then led me over to her car.  She opened the trunk and took out a huge pair of rubber soled boots.

“These are Tom’s; we always carry a couple pair for emergencies.  You can borrow them.”

As we each donned our boots, the wind picked up, blowing in from the sea.

“Let’s get a move on unless you’re planning on getting soaked.” she told me.

The trip to the cemetery seemed much shorter than it had earlier in the day and, the entire way, we didn’t pass another vehicle on the road.  The gates were closed so we got out and walked to Henry’s grave.  Peter was standing beside it.

“What took so long?” he asked.

I put out the brushes and the candles.  I had a hard time lighting them because of the breeze, I could only imagine what it must be like at home.  I put my coat down on the grass for Ida to sit on and then sat down across the gravestone from her.

“This is pretty spooky, isn’t it?” Peter said.  “A desolate graveyard in the middle of the night.  What if you see a ghost?”  

I continued to ignore him.

I grasped Ida’s hands and as I had at home, I called out, “We are calling on Henry, the occupant of this grave, to make himself known.”

Nothing happened, as before.

“Henry, show us your spirit and reunite with the spirit of your friend Peter who waits for you.”

“I wouldn’t strictly say I was waiting for him, I never expected him to turn up.” Peter said.

I knew it wasn’t working and I knew that I was becoming angry.

“Henry, we demand that you appear to us and be known.” I bellowed and then said, “Goddamnit!”

“I’m sure that’s not part of the ceremony.” Peter said.

I glared up at him and Ida said, “Honey, this just isn’t working.”

“We’ve got to keep trying is all.” I said.  “I know I can make it work.”

There was a loud ominous rumble overhead as the storm moved in.

“I’m sorry, Ed, but I’m not going to sit out here and get drenched.  You keep trying; I’ll wait in the car.” Ida said as she rose from the ground.

There was another peal of thunder as she walked away.

“I told you séances are hogwash.” Peter said.

“They’re not hogwash.  I know I can reunite the two of you.”

It began to rain, just lightly at first but it made me even angrier.

“I’m not leaving here until Henry comes for you, even if it takes all night.” I said, becoming even angrier as the shower began to seep through my clothes.

Peter walked closer and he said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do and I thank you, but it just won’t work.  You can’t change the past.”

As he said that, the heavens let loose.  The rain didn’t come down in drops, it came down in bucketfuls.  I was immediately soaked through and in a towering rage.

“I can make it change, goddamnit!” I shouted at him.  “It’s not fair, it’ll never be fair.”

“I can accept it.” Peter said.

“Well I can’t and I won’t!” By now, I was shouting at him at the top of my lungs.

“It can’t be this way, there has to be some hope.” I shouted.  I began to beat my fists against the granite headstone and I shouted, “Goddamnit, Henry!  I know you can hear me.  Somebody can hear me!  Peter doesn’t deserve this and neither does Henry.  You have to let them be together.”

All of the emotion of the past years had finally broken through my shell and I was sobbing while I shouted.  I was a sodden mess, mud covered and cold, and I fell face forward onto the stone.

“Please, please let them be together.” I sobbed.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia.” Peter said.

I continued to sob my guts out against the cold stone.  I could see Peter’s legs and when I looked up his body, he was staring into the clouds.

“What?” I asked.  “What do you see?”

“Don’t you see it?” he asked.  “It’s beautiful.”

I looked up into the sky, aware only of a glow behind the clouds.

“It’s the moon.” I said.

“No, it’s coming closer, look.”

I stared up into the sky and it did seem that the glow was becoming brighter.  The torrents of rain were crashing down around me but I became unaware of the deluge as I watched the sky.  The glow was definitely growing, moving toward us from the horizon.

When it was almost overhead, it burst through the clouds with a radiance I’ve never seen before or since.

“Is it a meteor?” I asked.

Peter was staring upward, his mouth hanging open.  I couldn’t look directly at it but I could see by the movement of his head that it was descending.  In a moment, it was on the ground in front of us.  I covered my eyes with my hands and peeked through a tiny gap between my fingers.  It looked like an oval with pointed ends, resting upright.  Even that tiny glance made my eyes feel fried.  It didn’t make a sound, all you could hear was the pouring rain.

I looked at Peter and he was smiling and walking toward it.  He approached until he was almost in front of it.

“Henry, you handsome son of a gun, what are you doing here?” he asked, staring into the radiance.

I had risen to my feet, still holding my hands in front of my eyes and I held them in front of the glow so that I could see Peter.

He turned to me and said, “He wants me to go with him.”

“Go,” I screamed, “go with him.  Now’s your chance.”

He smiled at me and stepped forward.  I saw him reach his hand out and then he looked at me again.

“I thought it might burn but it feels really good.” he said.

Shielding the blinding glow, I could see him stepping forward.  The front half of his body disappeared into the opening but then he stuck his head back out.

“Henry has a message for you.” he told me.  “Casey says he loves you and he’s waiting for you.”

I felt as if my bones had turned to water, it was a miracle I was still standing.

He moved forward a bit, and then poked his head out again.

“And he said to give Gene a break, he’s a really good guy and he likes him.”

I was somewhere beyond stupefied, probably in some degree of shock.  I watched Peter disappear into the bright void, his left foot the last part of him to be consumed.

The oval began to make a noise, a crackling like electricity or a fire burning out of control.  I could hear it over the sound of the rain slamming down.

Then the oval began to shrink in upon itself, never losing shape but disappearing at the edges, almost as if it was drawing inward.  In a matter of only a minute, the glow was a big as my palm, suspended in front of me and then it shrank to the size of a pinhole and totally disappeared.

At the very same instant, there was a huge blinding flash in front of me and I felt myself falling over.

When I came to, Ida was crouched over me with an umbrella to keep the rain off of my face.

“I thought you were dead for sure.” she said.

“Did you see what happened?” I asked.

“I saw a bolt of lightning strike right dead here.” she said   “You’re lucky your skinny ass isn’t fried up like bacon.”

I became conscious of the smell of burning rubber and looked at my feet.  Tom’s boots were melted on the soles and little curls of smoke rose from them.  Ida followed my gaze and said, “I told you to wear your boots.  Those rubber soles grounded you.  Looks like Tom’s going to need a new pair.”

She helped me to my feet and supported me so that I wouldn’t pitch over.

“You can see where the bolt hit.” she said, leading me to the gravestones.  “It struck right between the two stones.  The lightning melted the sand in the soil and threw up a bridge between them out of thunder glass.  There’s no way they’re ever going to be able to get those two apart again.”

There was a dark bond between the stones in the light of Ida’s flashlight.  They were joined inseparably.

 

We slowly made our way back to my car and Ida helped me into the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel.

“It was a kind thing you tried to do.” she said as we drove home.  “Don’t feel disappointed just because it didn’t work.”

“I’m not, Ida.” I said.  “I’m not disappointed.”

We drove the road back in silence except for Ida chastising me over my wet clothes and worrying that Tom had awakened to discover her gone.  The rain stopped as we drove, the clouds cleared and a full moon lit our route.

When we pulled into my drive, the first thing I noticed was a dark shape on the porch swing and my heart sank.  After all of that, after all of the effort, Peter was still here.

I got out of the car and walked forward.

Gene stood up in the moonlight and stepped forward.

“Where have you been this late at night?” he asked.  “You said you were going to call me.”

I felt my pockets but I couldn’t find my phone.

He took a step nearer, down one of the concrete steps and said, “I don’t appreciate being toyed with.  If you’re seeing someone else, you could have just said so.  I thought you were feeling the same way I am.”

I heard the car door open behind me and Ida strode up to where we stood.

“He’s been with me, you big dope.  We got stuck in the storm, look at him.  He looks like a drowned rat.  And as far as I remember, we didn’t visit any opium dens or roman orgies before that.”

Gene looked from one to the other of us and back again and was opening his mouth to say something when a car’s headlights turned into the drive and lit our group up.  The driver didn’t turn off the engine or the lights but we heard a door open.  In a moment, Tom stood beside us.

“What’s the idea of keeping my wife out till all hours, you little bastard.” he said to me.

“We got stuck.” Ida said.

“Stuck, my eye.  I knew he was after you when he gave you that clock.  I thought you had more sense than to fall in love at your age.”

He turned back to me and said, “You’re not going to take her.  I’ll fight you every way there is.  I’ll let everyone in town that you’re a home wrecker.”

I was speechless.  I looked at Gene and his mouth was also gaping.  Then, Tom grabbed me by the shirtfront.

“You stop it right now, you loony old coot.” Ida said loudly.  “He doesn’t even like women.”

It was out in the open and couldn’t be avoided.

“At least, not that way.” I said.

Tom glared at me, and then his face slowly began to relax.  Finally, he burst out laughing, grabbed me by the hand and clapped the other hand on my shoulder.

“Well, why didn’t you just come right out and say so?“ he asked.  “I don’t have any bad feelings against you fellows.  I knew a couple of them when I was in the navy, I never saw how as they were any different from anybody else.”  He was pumping my hand like we’d just met.

He looked over my shoulder, noticing Gene for the first time and got that merry look again.

“So, are you two like an item?” he asked Gene.

“No.” I said at the same time that Gene said, “Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, “He just hasn’t realized it yet.”

“Well, that’s good news.” Tom said.  He got sort of a sly look and said, “There are a lot of questions I always wanted to ask a fellow like you, stuff about what you do and how and who does what, all of that.  I never have been sure I’ve got it right.”

“You could have asked me, you nut.” Ida said.

“I can’t talk to you about men stuff, besides; I want it right from the horse’s mouth so I know it’s the truth.”

He turned back to me and said, “Ida is going to be binge-watching one of her murder shows the night after tomorrow’s.  Why don’t you come over, I’ll get us some rum and coke and we can sit around the kitchen table and let me pick your brain.”

“Okay, I can do that.” I said.

“You come too, Gene.” he said over my shoulder.

When he turned back to Ida, her smile was lighting up the dark.

“What?” he asked.

“You were jealous.” she said.  “You tracked me all the way over her in the middle of the night, thinking I had a fellow.  You just gave me the best present of your life, you old lunatic.”

He shuffled his feet, looking down, and said, “I just wanted to make sure you’d be able to get up early enough to cook breakfast.  You know I can’t even fry an egg without setting the kitchen on fire.”

Ida was grinning even wider and her hand snaked out and pinched Tom’s buttock.  He must have jumped a foot in the air.

“You crazy woman, that’s going to leave a bruise.” he said.

“That’s alright; I know how to make it feel better.”

She stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss right out of the movies.

“Maybe you need to go out more often, if this is the mood you come home in.” he said when she finally let him up for air.

We watched as they each climbed into their vehicle and then Ida followed her husband home.  I went over and sat down on the porch step.  Gene came along behind me and sat down at my side and as I leaned against him, he wrapped his arm around me.

“My god, you’re freezing.” he said.

I sat up and looked at him and said, “So, what happens next, since you’ve decided to be the one in charge?”

He stood up and pulled me to my feet and said, “Next, we get you upstairs and out of those wet clothes and into a hot shower.  Then we get you into a nice warm bed where you’re going to sleep until late in the morning.”

I allowed him to lead me up to the bathroom where he turned the shower on, then undressed me.  I climbed into the warm water and let it flow over me.  I wondered what Peter and Henry were doing right now.

When I had finished showering, I wrapped myself in towels and went to the bedroom.  Gene was in bed, the bedside lamp on and as I slid in beside him I could feel his nude body against mine.

 

I reached down and wrapped my hand around the long thick shaft of his hard cock.

“You honestly expect me to go to sleep with this thing in my bed?” I asked.

He pulled my hand up away from his dick, then rearranged our bodies so that we were lying face to face and belly to belly, my head resting on his shoulder and my face buried against the warm pelt on his body.

“You have our whole future to play with that.” he said.  “Whenever, however and as often as you like.  But, right now, you’re going to get some rest.”

“Yes, sir.” I answered.  I let myself relax, inhaling his male aroma and feeling his heart beating.  It wasn’t long until I was sliding into the black abyss of sleep.

“I’m going to take good care of you from now on.” I heard him whisper, the very last thing before I was spinning off into the blackness.  For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid.

     

 

Chapter Five – In Which Aidan Learns Lies Tend To Have Short Legs

Heathcliff had his eyes set on Aidan, from the moment he had walked on the set. Even though he really needed all the concentration he could gather since they were now shooting a video, he could not keep from following the cute bunny around, at least with his eyes.

Unlike other times, Aidan had messaged him to meet at the set and hadn’t offered the usual courtesy of transportation. He had tried to brush it off, saying to himself that, most probably, Aidan was busy with other work-related tasks, but he knew his gut instinct wasn’t lying.

The bunny was avoiding him. And there were a few explanations he could think of, and not one was satisfying enough. If there was some issue, it had to be addressed and fast. He had no intention to let Aidan go, but he needed to have the patience to allow the little prey the possibility to surrender on his own accord.

Aidan had run away like a kid who just did something naughty and was now scared of being found out by his parents. Could it be that the bunny was still living with his folks? It wasn’t impossible.

He knew little about Aidan, Heathcliff thought, as the assistant on the set began talking to him, explaining what he had to do.

“Just a second.” Heathcliff stopped the assistant and sauntered over where Aidan stood on the sidelines, like an extra with no hope of getting selected for the team.

He could see Aidan’s eyes growing wide as he approached. By how stiff he stood, it was clear that he was embarrassed and now trying to save face by pretending to be what he considered the perfect professional.

“Hey,” Heathcliff said curtly, nodding at Aidan.

“Hey,” Aidan replied, just as curtly, and mimicking his nod.

“Aren’t you supposed to give me pointers about this?” Heathcliff gestured with his chin over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Aidan’s face.

Aidan licked his lips nervously. Was it wrong for Heathcliff that such a simple gesture was making him want to do nothing but lean over and lick that gorgeous pouting mouth? How come there were so many details about the young man that made him look so endearing? How come he hadn’t noticed them right from the start?

As a connoisseur of male beauty, Heathcliff needed to correct that. Aidan’s top lip arched enticingly, and all he needed to do was to raise one hand and draw the beautiful shape with his fingers.

Damn, he shook his head. He was getting absurdly romantic these days. What he needed was to drag the young man to his bed, fuck him into the mattress, and then he would see whether he would still behave like a love-struck teenager or not. He could bet all was going to fade away. Poets were guys who had troubles getting laid; he was sure of it.

“Hey, Earth to Stone.” Aidan waved one hand in front of him.

Heathcliff caught the guy’s hand deftly. “Come with me,” he ordered and practically dragged the guy after him.

“You don’t need me. I gave all the pointers to the assistant on the set,” Aidan protested but didn’t squirm, as a few people around were already stealing glances in their direction. “He can tell you everything you need to know. He has all the details.”

Heathcliff shook his head. “You’re not delegating this, Spark. I’m your charge, so behave like it. Now, get to work.”

“What’s wrong with working with the assistant?” Aidan whispered.

Heathcliff whispered back. “I don’t like him.”

“You don’t? By all means, I’d say he is your type.”

They were talking in hushed voices while the other people were getting busy with the props. The assistant was a tall, slender guy in his 20s, with a charming smile, and come hither looks. Heathcliff nodded perfunctorily at him. Aidan wasn’t wrong. But right that moment, he wasn’t interested.

“He’s not you,” he said into Aidan’s ear, making sure to brush his lips lightly over the heated tip.

“Okay, you spoiled fitness guru,” Aidan replied, a bit annoyed. “Really, guru? This so doesn’t apply to you. Gurus are guys who are definitely not as spoiled as you.”

Heathcliff smiled. “It’s your fault. You spoiled me,” he said, as he positioned himself in front of Aidan and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How did I do that?” Aidan crossed his arms, too.

What was with the mimicking? Heathcliff wondered briefly. The little bunny had little, if any control over the situation, so he was trying to put on a brave front. It wasn’t working. Maybe guys were falling at Heathcliff’s feet, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t go through Aidan’s defenses, seeing how weak they were.

“By jerking me off.” Heathcliff leaned closer and said the words while looking Aidan straight into his pretty eyes.

“That was …” Aidan trailed off and gulped nervously.

“Pretty good.” Heathcliff offered an encouraging smile. “But I think there’s room for improvement. And I believe I can give you plenty of pointers.”

Aidan was so cute when blushing.

“Heathcliff, are you ready?” the assistant on the set interrupted them.

Heathcliff looked at the guy, and by how the assistant froze on the spot, he knew his laser cut stare was working flawlessly.

“Not yet,” he said brusquely. “And, please, Mr. Stone. Let’s not get confused.”

The assistant mumbled an excuse and walked away.

“Mr. Stone? Really?” Aidan asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, why not?” Heathcliff said.

“But why don’t you let me address you like that, then?”

“Hmm, I might reconsider. Although, in your case, I’d like you to address me as ‘sir’.”

For a moment, Heathcliff thought he had had a glimpse of something, as Aidan’s eyes lit up.

“You’re so not a ‘sir’,” Aidan snickered.

Heathcliff rolled his eyes. “Spark, I think you need some discipline and tough love. Didn’t your parents teach you how to behave like a good kid?”

“They did, but, well, I’m no longer living with them,” Aidan replied promptly.

“Ah, good to know,” Heathcliff nodded.

Aidan looked at him a bit questioningly, but whatever he wanted to say, he let it drop.

“You’re the one who needs a bit of tough love, Stone,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you ready, or we will be here all day. And, seriously, why did you snap at the assistant? He was just trying to do his job.”

“One, I didn’t snap.” Heathcliff raised one finger. “I don’t snap. And two, he was trying to get you away from me. Seeing how you’re the babysitter, I have no idea how you can agree to something like that.”

“I’m the babysitter? Then you’re the kid.” Aidan snickered. “Should I call you ‘young master’ instead of ‘sir’?”

Heathcliff played along. “Master would be suitable.”

Aidan snorted. “Damn, you’re so full of yourself. Let’s shoot the ad already.”

“Only if you call me master,” Heathcliff pressed the matter, as amused by the situation as Aidan seemed to be.

“Get on the set, Stone. And stop being such a big baby.” Aidan pushed him to move.

Heathcliff liked that. Aidan Spark wasn’t the kind to be yanked and jerked around. Yeah, he very much liked that.

***

Standing his ground in front of Heathcliff Stone was no easy feat. Nonetheless, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. At least he hoped that was the case. Now, he needed to focus on getting the ad perfect so that he could report back to the headquarters with another accomplished task.

After all, his probabilities to get ahead on the career ladder lay on his success in taking care of Heathcliff and enduring the guy’s shenanigans to get the job done. So, he had every reason in the world to be the perfect professional with the occasional leeway for Heathcliff’s strong personality. The man liked to do as he wished all the time.

That was what he was saying to himself while following his charge as Heathcliff was doing his best on the set. He was, indeed, a natural born star. People were going to buy whatever The Healthy Shakers were selling if they were one percent as taken with the guy as Aidan was, and everyone else around.

The thing was he could not let it show. He could appreciate Heathcliff Stone from a professional standpoint, and that was that. And he had already sworn off offering handjobs, as soon as he had gotten home after Heathcliff’s birthday party. From that moment forward, he was going to be nothing else but the perfect professional.

Of course, getting the obnoxious fitness guru to forget about the incident seemed to be a challenge. By how much attention Heathcliff was getting from the male population so inclined everywhere he went, one would have expected him to have forgotten already about a rushed handjob given by someone who definitely didn’t have enough expertise in pleasing others.

Heathcliff had enjoyed it at the time, by what Aidan could tell. But it had been a breach of conduct, and it was Aidan’s job to correct that. The simplest way to do it was by being nothing but the perfect professional, as he had already told himself a thousand times.

It didn’t seem such a simple thing to do. He could feel his breath catching in his chest as he looked at Heathcliff. Maybe he wasn’t anything like the dark, brooding character from Wuthering Heights, but he could draw a sigh or two from anyone he met, and not due to some misplaced reverence.

But regret. Aidan considered himself way too young to qualify for a proper list of regrets, but, in this case, he could tell he had just met his first serious one. Nothing was going to happen between him and Heathcliff Stone, and that was final. How could he lose his head like that?

Okay, so Heathcliff had kissed him. And fondled his ass. Aidan could feel his cheeks warming up only thinking about that incident. He needed to become better versed in flirting with guys if he was to survive around the sex bomb that Heathcliff was. Some training in that kind of dealings was required. All he needed was a plan and to act accordingly.

Discreetly, Aidan looked at his watch. The less time he spent in close proximity of that sexy bastard, the better. But he could not just take off. It would have been a terrible breach of his contract since he had a job to do. With a long, heartfelt sigh, he looked at Heathcliff, how he was looking straight into the camera, and saying the words from the script with a broad smile that was lighting his entire face.

Definitely not a Heathcliff. It was like the entire set was alive because of him. And even if it was just a regular commercial for advertising a mundane product, it looked like everyone around was looking in pure rapture at him.

It was, most probably, a perk only truly beautiful people had. Heathcliff seemed to have a talent for getting on his nerves, too, but Aidan knew he could not be really mad at him. No one ever really was; he was sure of it.

When the team on the set began wrapping up the video shoot, Aidan shook his head as if he was awakening from a dream. Yes, he needed to get a hold of himself and fast.

“So, what do you say, Spark?” Heathcliff sauntered over to him.

“You killed it,” Aidan said with a smile he couldn’t stop.

“Bro fist?” Heathcliff offered.

“Sure.” Aidan shrugged and pushed his closed fist against the guy’s.

Heathcliff leaned in. “See? My job is to make you happy.”

Aidan could sense the man’s intentions from a mile away, and he needed to do something about them. And fast. But the problem was whether he could bring it up, or was it a better idea to let the guy initiate?

He had his speech already prepared. But what if Heathcliff wasn’t going to say anything? What if all had been nothing but harmless teasing, kissing, and ass fondling, handjobs notwithstanding?

That could be, and it was damn disappointing if he was to think about it. But, it was for the better. He used two fingers to press against his forehead, between his eyebrows, and stopped his internal struggle.

“What monsters are you fighting in your head, my valiant knight?” Heathcliff joked.

“Ah, nothing.” Aidan shook his head. “I mean, I’m not fighting … And I’m not a knight.”

“I think you are. You single-handedly annihilated those paparazzi. And saved my reputation, in the process.”

“Oh, you give me too much credit,” Aidan said, but he could feel his chest puffing out on its own accord. “Plus, you’re no fair maiden.”

“Only fair,” Heathcliff played along. “Let’s talk.”

Aidan felt a bit out of balance, as Heathcliff took his arm and made him walk. That was Heathcliff Stone. A man of action. Only that Aidan could feel sweat pooling at the small of his back, just thinking what he wanted to talk about.

It looked like Heathcliff knew perfectly well where he was heading, as he practically pushed Aidan through a side door that seemed to open to a small empty room, filled with cleaning supplies.

He was about to open his mouth and ask what the hell they were doing in a janitor’s closet when Heathcliff made their lips meet.

The first automatic instinct was to open his mouth and let the man sneak his tongue inside. His eyelids shut, and, in spite of himself, he voiced a small, meaningful moan. Heathcliff almost slammed him against a wall and got busy right away with his hands. Then he grabbed his ass hard, and Aidan could feel his knees giving in.

What was his plan again? Definitely not this. With some difficulty, he pushed his hands between them and Heathcliff away along with that. “Wait,” he breathed out.

Heathcliff watched him, a bit thoughtfully. And annoyed.

“What are we doing?” Aidan asked.

He knew the answer. But he was too much of a coward to lead this conversation properly.

“Well, in a nutshell,” Heathcliff drew their bodies close again, “I’m trying to get into your pants.”

Aidan evaded the second kiss in time.

“What?” Heathcliff murmured, seemingly a bit surprised at being denied. “Okay,” he took one step back. “I suppose a place like this is not ideal. But, bunny boy, you gave me a taste and ran away. Forgive me if I think this is sort of due.”

“Due?” Aidan mumbled.

“Yeah.” Heathcliff looked him in the eye. “But I have nothing against taking this to my house. Or do you have to go back to work?”

Aidan grabbed that straw with the desperation of a drowning man. “Actually, I need to report back. And there are many other things I need to work on.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m not the only one you’re babysitting?” Heathcliff joked, but he was frowning.

“You’re the only one I’m babysitting. But my work entails other things. Like filing reports, doing market research …”

“All right. When do you get away?”

“It all depends on the boss,” Aidan said with a small shrug.

“It doesn’t matter. As soon as you leave work, you’ll come straight to my house.”

“Don’t wait for me,” Aidan said quickly.

“Why?” Heathcliff’s frown deepened.

Damn, he needed to cut and run. Aidan moved from one foot to the other.

“I’m not gay,” he blurted out.

Was the lie going to hold? He had no idea. But it was the only card he could play.

Heathcliff cocked his head to one side. “You’re kidding me, right? So it’s just a habit to give handjobs to guys? When you’re working? Shit, that must be one hell of a job description, Spark.”

“No, it’s not a habit.” Aidan scowled. “It was … I mean … It was …”

Heathcliff put one hand up. “Enough. I get it.”

“You do?” Aidan breathed out in relief.

Heathcliff smiled. “Yeah. You’re confused. Well, I’m available if you need to work that confusion out of your system.”

“I’m not confused!” Aidan protested.

“Sure.” Heathcliff grinned. “Well, suit yourself. My offer won’t stay for long. I need to get laid.”

“And? Why don’t you get laid?” Aidan questioned.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe because making my bed partners sign some NDA doesn’t sound like the perfect kind of foreplay,” Heathcliff replied. “And I’m all for perfection when it comes to lovemaking.”

Now there was a decent distance between them, and Aidan was grateful for it.

“Sorry about that,” Aidan offered. “But you signed the agreement.”

“That I did,” Heathcliff admitted. “So you’re not gay?”

“That’s right,” Aidan hurried to confirm.

The guy was still staring at him as if he didn’t quite believe him. “Well,” Heathcliff shrugged, “I suppose my gaydar malfunctioned this time. Then let’s get out of this closet already,” he joked.

Aidan nodded. He should have been relieved to see Heathcliff taking things so lightly. Yet, he could not stop the little pang of disappointment he felt as he walked out the janitor’s closet, after Heathcliff.

“So, see you tomorrow?” he asked, feeling a bit nervous as he stood face to face with Heathcliff.

“What do you need me for?” Heathcliff questioned.

Aidan was a bit taken aback. The man had taken the rejection well. Too well. But now he sounded pissed.

“Just to look together over some marketing materials. Also, I can help you with, you know, pointers.”

“Send them by e-mail,” Heathcliff said, rather clipped. “And I think I’m done with taking advice from you. I know what I need to do. Just do your job, Spark.”

Aidan watched in disbelief while Heathcliff stormed off. “Would you like me to give you a ride?” he called after the man.

“I’ll just Uber home,” Heathcliff threw over his shoulder.

***

It wasn’t like him to let his emotions show, Heathcliff thought as he climbed out of the car that had taken him back home. But the thing was: he was pissed. First, he had played things cool. If Aidan felt the need to lie about his sexuality, that was fine by him. It was none of his business.

Spark was gay as a rainbow unicorn. Okay, maybe not that flashy, but it was clear as day that the guy was eating him up with his eyes whenever they were close.

Yet, for some reason, Aidan had chosen to lie. And Heathcliff could not take it easy. The fuck was wrong with him? If a guy didn’t want him, it wasn’t the end of the world. But not being able to get his hands on that corporate bunny was making him frustrated.

He needed to collect himself a little. So his pride had just taken a hit. But that wasn’t it. He could still taste Aidan’s sweet lips on his. The bunny was frigging tasty. Heathcliff wanted to eat him whole, probably starting with his beautiful mouth and ending with his sexy bubblegum ass. And that particular dessert was not going to be served to him on a silver platter as he had expected.

So, he was not the kind of man to get caught up in some dilemma. The bunny wanted him. He was going to come around, eventually. If not, it wasn’t a disaster. But Heathcliff didn’t really want to write him off as the one who got away. Guys didn’t get away from him, usually.

Hmm, he could not be so petty. If Aidan didn’t want him, it was fine. Totally fine.

Also, he just needed to get laid. It was the best medicine to cure that unexpected rejection. And he could put Aidan Spark out of his mind. It wasn’t that difficult, after all.

***

Aidan took his phone and headed for the bathroom. Bathroom mirror selfies were clichés, but there was no other way to take pics of his ass, without having to call someone and have that person do it for him.

The snafu with Heathcliff would not have existed if he had just gotten laid. With that sexual tension out of the way, it was going to be simple to keep things professional with the fitness guru.

So, he needed to take action. Heathcliff had praised his ass, which meant that there was a good chance that others were going to appreciate it, too.

Torso and ass pics were going to do it. He wasn’t going to show his face, at least, not until he was going to secure a date.

He could not believe he was going to do this. Never before had he used a dating app. But desperate times called for desperate measures. All he needed to do was to convince himself that nothing bad was going to happen, that he wasn’t going to stumble upon some trolls who only wanted to catfish him, or … worse …

Aidan gulped. All that his parents had told him about being careful was rushing to mind, right now. But there was no other choice. He had to get rid of his V card and stop acting like a love-struck teenager around Heathcliff. That was the key to his professional success, and he needed to be courageous about it.

Also, who knew? Maybe he could find some guy interested in more than just a hookup. He had never really tried a gay dating app, but now it was a good idea to start. He was twenty-two, and that was an unacceptable age to still be an ass virgin.

With a frown, he selected a few pics which weren’t blurred and had good lighting and proceeded to create his profile. Soon enough, notifications began to pour in.

***

Heathcliff was swiping through guys’ profiles, feeling rather bored, when his attention was suddenly piqued. “Shy22yo, looking for something casual or serious,” he read out loud.

Hmm, the guy’s pics were nice, really nice. Heathcliff straightened up. Now that was the kind of ass he liked best. Actually, the kind of ass he had come to like lately. Well, fucking some youngster who had the same body type as Aidan Spark could be a solution to his problem.

Definitely delicious, Heathcliff decided, and he began palming his cock through his tracksuit pants while he contemplated how to approach the guy going by Shy22yo.

***

Aidan could feel his palms sweating as he looked at the various profiles contacting him. One drew his attention in particular. In the off chance that he wasn’t dealing with a pro catfisher, that guy that had CrazyFitness as his handle looked terrific. Aidan could see himself worshipping those washboard abs for hours. And other things, he thought, as he felt getting hot under the collar.

“Hey,” he typed, not knowing what to say.

“Hey,” the reply came right away.

He had no idea what should come next. Luckily, his convo partner had no such issues.

“What are you looking for?”

“Hooking up,” he typed in, feeling his boldness fading away with each touch of the screen.

“Where do you live?”

Aidan gave the name of his neighborhood. He hoped the guy wasn’t looking to find out his precise address.

“That’s not so far from me,” the reply came.

“You’re not a catfisher, I hope.” Aidan hesitated, but eventually sent the message.

“I’m definitely not.”

“That’s good.”

Again, he had no idea how to continue. How did other people handle these things?

“You don’t have a lot of experience.” The next message read.

“I don’t,” Aidan replied quickly.

Maybe he could just forget about the whole thing. It didn’t seem right. All the words of caution hammered into his brain by his parents were coming back to haunt him.

“Your pics are really nice. You have an amazing ass.”

“Thank you. You have a gorgeous body, too,” Aidan chose to offer a compliment in return, as well.

“Are you available tonight? I’d like to know you better.”

Aidan hesitated before replying. But it was easier if he was getting this out of the way and fast.

“Yes,” he typed quickly now, that the decision had been taken.

It was hard to focus, as contradictory feelings and thoughts were assaulting him from all directions.

“You are a quiet one,” the guy messaged him.

“I’d say I’m efficient,” Aidan replied.

A laughing emoji was the answer. Good, that was good, Aidan thought as he liked his lips nervously.

“All right, Mr. Efficient. What would you like to do?”

Aidan pondered for a while. So it was like a date? Not like a going straight to business kind of thing? Were they going to grab a bite and stuff like that?

“Do you like Chinese?” he typed.

“Only if that’s what you are, sexy,” the man replied.

Ah, so the question was about sex. Aidan could feel his Adam’s apple going up and down, and he couldn’t swallow normally.

“Handjobs?” he wrote tentatively.

“That would be a start. Dick pic?”

Aidan almost dropped his phone as he tried to take a picture of his dick. He was only half hard and cursed, pissed at himself. But he sent the pic anyway.

“That’s pretty nice. Legs, too,” the man commented.

“I’m not as well built as you,” Aidan replied.

“How would you like to see more of me?”

“Sure.”

“What would you like to see?”

Aidan inhaled and exhaled. “Your dick,” he typed down.

He needed to show a bit of courage if he was going to do this. He almost gasped as he looked at the pic sent. That was a gorgeous cock right there, fully hard, not like his.

“Wow.” He sent his reaction right away.

“Now that we broke the ice, what would you really want to do?”

“I’d blow you,” Aidan typed down without even breathing.

“That’s nice. I’d blow your cute cock, too,” the man replied right away.

“It’s not cute.” Aidan wrote down in protest.

“It is if I say so,” the reply came right away.

Well, his own cock was much appreciative of the to and fro sexy banter. Now he was fully hard. “Would you like another dick pic?” he asked, feeling hopeful.

At least, now he had a chance to show that he wasn’t that lame.

“No. I want a close up of that glorious ass.”

Aidan turned slightly and took a picture from above. It was the best he could do.

“Nice,” the reaction came promptly. “Now put two fingers in your ass.”

Damn, the guy wasn’t shy about what he wanted. Aidan could feel his heart beating faster. He did his best to get a good angle, as he stabbed his backside with two fingers. That was as much as it had ever gotten in there, so it wasn’t that impossible. Or bad. Actually, he felt quite thrilled with the sensation.

“Good boy.” The reply was all he needed.

Aidan smiled. It felt nice to be appreciated. Now he wanted something in return.

“Can I see some ass cleavage?” He sent his message.

“Ass cleavage?” the reply read.

“Like when you show the cock and balls, but also the crack below,” Aidan dutifully explained.

“Coming right up.”

Wow, the guy looked good from all angles. And that ass cleavage was to die for. The man was also flexible, his legs parted and showing possibilities. Aidan had no idea whether he would like to top or bottom, but, right now, he had an inkling that he wouldn’t mind knowing what the man’s ass cleavage kept hidden.

He began stroking his cock. This was easier than he had imaged.

“Would you stick something up your ass?” he eventually dared to ask.

“Quite daring. I like it. Let’s trade face pics, too, and then take it from there. We’ll do anything you want once we get together.”

Was he really going to do this? He hesitated for a little while.

The phone pinged again. “Let’s do it both at the same time.”

Aidan drew a long breath and then decided he needed to bite the bullet. CrazyFitness, whoever he was, seemed like a normal person, not someone who was lurking dating apps to find victims like a psychopath on a killing streak. Maybe, just maybe, he had watched way too many TV shows. Also, the guy was hotness on a stick. If he managed to score with him, he was going to be a happy camper.

So, there was no hesitation when he snapped a selfie.

“Ready? I’m dying to meet you,” the man sent another message.

Aidan sent the pic and waited. But not even for a second. He gaped at the screen and dropped the phone. What were the frigging chances for that to happen?

His phone began ringing. A good idea was to let it ring. For lack of anything else to do, he jumped to his feet and got dressed up in less than five seconds. What the hell was he going to do? That was bad, like really bad.

His phone continued to ring. Hysterically if he could say so. He could not possibly avoid this. So, with trembling hands, he took the phone from where he had dropped it on the bed.

“Aidan Spark, you’re coming straight to my house, and you’re coming right now, or we’ll have a real problem,” Heathcliff’s voice came through, calm and steady.

How could he act so cool? Yet, Heathcliff sounded somewhat menacing, too.

“Yes, sir,” Aidan mumbled and cut the conversation.

TBC

---

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Old King Severmist of Kerastis, Aram, and Akamantis stood on a rock outcropping on the sea side of the pass through the Golden Mountains down into the rich plains of Tharsis and shook his fists in frustration and despair. For the third time in as many days the frontal assault on the High Castle of King Kleemus, his cousin and erstwhile ally, had failed.

“How much longer will you hold against my might?” the old king roared out in his obsession. “Two long years. See this beard? It nigh reaches the ground and is as gray as the skies over your winter land.”

“Perhaps it is time to suggest just going around the castle and down into the valley, sire,” one of the king’s advisers said timidly, cowering at the king’s side. Unfortunately, he had come too close, though, and, with one swipe of his mail-encased hand, the king slapped him across the path, from whence he did not rise.

The king knew they could not continue this siege for two more years. His own health would not permit it. He would not live to enter Tharsis then, and all would be lost without him at the helm. Then his mission would be frustrated—to seal his legitimacy even after his death and put to rest for all time the ebbing rumor of the Oracle at Noto’s declaration of High Kingship over all of the lands in the region for the progeny of old King Cresum.

“The High Castle remains the key,” he growled. “It is the strongest point in Tharsis. If we take the castle, all of the rest in the valley will open its doors to us. If not, it is a fight on every doorstep and a lance at our backs, between us and the sea. We must have the castle. Must I do the thinking for us all? Is there no one here with the wit to follow on from me?”

“Sire,” a low, but assured voice spoke up from the shadows, “Might I—?”

“Why be you here?” the king cried out, almost in anguish. “You are nothing but the king’s dancer and the sheath for my sword. You belong in the train with the women and the other women in men’s clothes. How dare you attend and speak out. Better yet, get you to the High Castle. From what is reported to me, those within are sodomites all.”

“We have Raum in the castle.” Cleus gritted his teeth at the arrogance and convenient memory of Severmist. Where was he, Cleus thought, when I led the storming of Enna. He was sipping in his cups on his flagship off the beach at Cefalu, Cleus added in his mind, supplying his own answer. He was determined to continue in the forefront of this siege, though, and to show his metal to all those who would survive Severmist. He was posturing for the ages now, seeing the nearness of the end of his life in this world. With determination, Cleus continued with his counsel, “Perhaps we—”

“Be damned and be gone with you, pup. It is because of you that Raum is there. I’ll have no more words from you, boy.”

And then all was silent as the shadows of night descended on the pass from the sea through the Golden Mountains and down into Tharsis, and the lights in the High Castle yet burned, telling of comfort and safety.

And yet the king’s catamite was so bold to have not returned to the train as ordered. He knew the old king. The man he’d known as the Prince of Madness was mercurial and would call for him in the night, not remembering he had been dismissed, and roaring with anger if he were not there.

And sure enough, the many moldering war wounds and advance of age in King Severmist’s body were denying him sleep, and he called for his calamite. And the young man was there in an instant, naked and bearing the soothing oil with which he rubbed his king’s body before taking the old man’s phallus in his mouth and bringing him to life and then straddling him and riding his staff like a camel in the Aram desert until the old man dribbled his seed and drifted off to sleep with no more than a murmured, “Thank you, Cleus.” Seemingly nothing in the way of homage, but far more than Severmist accorded any other human being.

If the king were introspective enough and capable of telling a truth, he would acknowledge that he loved this catamite of his as he loved no other. And both the Watchman and Cleus had worked tirelessly to make this so—to make what happened with Severmist in the end that much more satisfying and fitting.

From the shadows, the Watchman kept vigil. He could end it now for the traitor to his own king with the sigh of a dirk. But this fulfillment of the prophecy of the oracle needed to be public, the ultimate disloyalty needed to be equal to that which Severmist had shown two kings of Aram. And, for the sake of the ancestors, the one who delivered Severmist into the hands of the gods of the netherworld should, the Watchman believed, be a progeny of Cresum. And that was not all. The prophecy was fading. It needed to be brought to life in a way that all could see and there would be no doubt, no hesitation for all to bow their knee.

As he had planned many years ago, the Watchman assumed that Toma would be the vehicle for this part of what needed to be.

At that moment, though, the Watchman felt the searing pain as of a lightning bolt coursing through his body from the top of his head through to the vitals of his torso, and he sensed more than heard the voices of the gods ripping into and through his body, telling him that the hand of neither Toma nor Cleus could dispatch Severmist, the last tyrant standing in the way of the unity and time of peace spoken of by the Oracle at Noto, if each was to fulfill his own destiny. To one it would provide something that was not his to have. And for the other, it was not a fitting start to the reign of a High King who was to bring unity and peace to the people. Thus, the gods seared into the Watchman’s consciousness, it was he himself who would have to take on one last task before he could rest. But all in the proper time.

Turning his eyes to the skies, the Watchman lifted his hands and cried out, “Let what is to be be.” And then he fell down in an exhausted stupor from which he did not awaken until those in attendance to him feared he was dead.

* * * *

The Grand Marshal of Tharsis, the man closest to King Kleemus and his principal military adviser, the man who had devised and carried out the successful defense of Tharsis against the invading barbarians from the sea in close consort with his king for the past two years, was galloping through the forest at the valley base of the High Castle with his small band of hunters, bringing home venison. The Grand Marshal disdained the forces of the Akamantises and went out on these forays on purpose to show those under siege in the High Castle how safe they were in his hands. Few of the besieger’s raiding parties ventured beyond the castle and down into the valley, and the Grand Marshal’s spies knew when they were afoot.

But on the road to the castle, the Grand Marshal pulled his horse up and his lip curled up. Here was something he had not been apprised of. Heads would roll for overlooking this. This was a king’s highway. What was such a vehicle doing here?

Off on the side of the trail he spied a gypsy wagon, turned on its side, its contents strewn out around it and obviously the subject of pillage.

The Grand Marshal trotted over to the wagon, its scarlet and yellow wheels still spinning, and reached down and jerked an arrow out of the undercarriage and lifted it up for all to see.

“Double-edged point,” said one minion.

“Red feather,” said another.

“An arrow of the Akamantis,” chimed in a third.

The Grand Marshal nodded his head in grim agreement. The forces of the Akamantis and of their new king, Severmist of Aram, were becoming bolder. They were foraying too far into the valley. And his spies had missed this intrusion.

All of the riders were startled by the sound of a groan—coming from under the overturned wagon. Quick as a dart, two of the minions dismounted and, with all of their strength, lifted the wagon while a third pulled out the body of a young man.

The rescuer turned him over on his back, and the Grand Marshal’s heart leaped in his chest and his cock stood at immediate attention.

The young man was beautifully built and provocatively displayed. He was a dusky beauty, and with an athlete’s build—but dressed as a dancer—one of the rare firmly muscled, well-worked dancer’s bodies, with every part perfectly formed. The Grand Marshall liked fucking men, not effeminate boys. And if the man were trained to the dance and the art of seduction, all the better. The youth had an achingly beautiful face, with full, sensuous lips and short, tightly curled hair most often seen in Nubians but quite fetching in a young man as handsome as this. He was nearly naked, stripped to the waist, gold belted, and wearing diaphanous, billowing pantaloons of some white material shot through with threads of gold. He had gold snake bracelets encircling his biceps and gold rings in his nipples, and, as could clearly be seen, a gold ring in the bulb of his cock as well.

“Does he live?” The Grand Marshal asked in a strained voice, and upon hearing an assent, he dismounted and moved in one graceful, fluid motion to where the young man lay.

“Lay him on the carriage body,” he commanded, and the young man was lifted and laid on his back on the edge of the carriage.

The Grand Marshal withdrew his dirk knife and gathered up the flimsy material of the young man’s pantaloons at the crotch in one fist and slit through the material with the knife he held in the other hand. Sheathing his knife, he spread the young man’s legs with hands fisting his ankles.

With the first strong thrust of his engorged cock in the young man’s channel, the youth’s obsidian-black eyes opened in shock and he cried out in the taking. “Oh, oh, Lord. Nay, please I beg you. I have never . . . Oh, no, I am undone.” His cries turned to moans and groans, as the Grand Marshal’s minions just stood about, looking at the ground—when they weren’t stealing furtive looks at the taking of the young man. No one raised a hand to stay the Grand Marshal. He was the second-most powerful man in the land, his blood and lust ran hot, and—save for deference to King Kleemus himself—he took his pleasures when and with whom he would.

The young dusky god’s cries of undoing changed in short order to cries for the taking. He arched his back and raised his pelvis and started meeting the Grand Marshal’s relentless thrustings with counterthrusts of his own. He cried out of the Grand Marshal’s artistry and mastery of the cocking and of how he’d never known it could be like this and how much he loved the movement of the Grand Marshal’s superior member deep inside him. He writhed and trembled and shuddered beneath the onslaught of the old warrior, and his hands reached out and caressed the thick matting of hair on the Grand Marshal’s chest and reached up and palmed the back of the old warrior’s neck and brought his face down to his and opened his sweet lips to the invasion of the Grand Marshal’s tongue.

Not long before the Grand Marshal experienced the longest and strongest ejaculation of his recent memory, the young god had given up his own seed with the rubbing of his gold-ringed cock head on the old man’s still-hard belly.

By the time the climax ensued, an objective observer would be hard pressed to suppose just who had fucked who—and the Grand Marshal was hopelessly smitten.

The young man, Cleus by name, and, by his own declaration, a wandering musician and dancer by trade, was taken up to the castle and installed in the Grand Marshal’s apartments, where the Grand Marshal became besotted with watching him dance and then fucking him day and night until it became clear to King Kleemus that he was not being as fully attended as he once had been by his principal adviser.

This did not necessarily set well with the king.

The king was not the only one who had taken notice of this change in circumstance. His young attendant and sometimes lover, Raum, known to Kleemus since the days of King Cresum’s court in Aram’s principle stronghold of Mascus, had also heard rumors of the young, enticing god living in the Grand Marshal’s apartments, a handsome, dusky young dancer with obsidian-black eyes; full, sensuous lips; and golden rings at the nipples and cock head. Raum knew of only one person in the world who met this description. He therefore availed himself of the first opportunity to seek the now infamous youth out. That opportunity came with the first hunting foray the Grand Marshal made—now reluctantly made—out of the castle since he had happened upon the young lover who had melted years off his felt age and made his penis a strong sword upon demand once more.

Cleus was gliding along the corridor in the Grand Marshal’s apartments that afternoon, when a strong hand reached out from behind a hanging tapestry and pulled the young man into the darkness behind. Raum devoured Cleus’s lips with fervent kisses. Cleus, in turn, climbed Raum’s pelvis with his thighs, and Raum fucked him deeply and long, pushing Cleus against the wall of the castle behind the shimmering tapestry and bouncing the shoulder blades of his prey mercilessly against the hard stone.

Thus were reunited the lovers—the son of King Cletar and the Nubian princess Nailah, but known only to King Severmist as his own catamite, and, Raum, who had been banished from Severmist’s court for being found lying with Cleus to the almost certain death of spying inside the besieged High Castle of the Tharsisians as long as his wits could keep him alive.

Afterward the two slithered off to Raum’s own humble room, and Raum gave Cleus a proper and prolonged fucking, Cleus on his back, legs akimbo and pelvis thrust up to received Raum’s strong cocking, being ridden hard and for a great distance in contrast to the old Grand Marshal’s almost pitiful pokings, and Raum stroking Cleus to multiple comings with thumb rubbing piss slit through the center of the golden cock ring.

“What are you doing here?” Raum asked through heavy breathing after they had spent themselves and were embracing, each part of them held as closely together as possible. “It would be the death of you if you were discovered. Did the Grand Marshal capture you without realizing who he had?”

“Nay, the Grand Marshal captured me because I meant him to—because the Watchman willed him to,” Cleus answered. And then he laughed. He became immediately more serious, though. “We are getting nowhere with this siege, and the time of King Severmist’s passing is close at hand. The Watchman declares it is time to put the kingdoms in the hands of the rightful heir, and I mean to aid that by delivering Tharsis into the hands of a new High King at long last.”

“A heavy task,” Raum whispered, his voice displaying his fear for his young lover. “You have seen how it is with the Tharsisians. How strong Tharsis is.”

“But not as strong as it was before I came,” Cleus said.

“What do you mean? What are you planning? What can I do to help?”

“Many questions, and I love you all the more, Raum, master of my seed, for your last question. What we must do is divide King Kleemus and the Grand Marshal. The strength of Tharsis has been their strong union. I have already started weakening that. And then I must be put within striking distance of the king at the right moment. There are, indeed, actions you can take to serve those ends.”

“Command my hand, my liege,” Raum said.

“Fuck my hole; mingle your seed with mine,” Cleus countered, “that is how you can declare your loyalty.” And then both young men laughed, as Raum proceeded to do just that.

* * * *

From that point began the campaign of Cleus and Raum to divide the Tharsisians’ strength.

The king was already irritated at the Grand Marshal’s unaccustomed absences, and while Cleus made sure that the Grand Marshal was abed fucking him as much of the time as possible, Raum was working on the king, asking him if he knew of the new, young, mesmerizing dancer the Grand Marshal had acquired. He kept asking the king if the Grand Marshal had ever offered to share the delights of watching Cleus perform.

The king had not been so invited. Indeed, before Raum started mentioning the possibility, he’d never thought of this being a slight at all. But the king was already just a bit unhappy with the Grand Marshal, and now he wanted to assert his kingship. His rights including bedding anyone he pleased as well, which, no doubt, was why the Grand Marshall hadn’t invited him to watch Cleus dance.

He commanded the Grand Marshal to bring the dancer Cleus before him in a private audience of just the three of them. And the Grand Marshal, seeing that he had no choice or that there was anything amiss afoot, quickly brought the young Cleus, perfumed and fluffed up and sensuously costumed, forth to the king’s private chambers.

Cleus danced a dance of passion and provocative display for the king, a dance that wound up with Cleus only in a golden belt, his gold snake bicep bracelets, his nipple and cock rings, and a warm smile on his face and a fluttering of his long eyelashes over obsidian-black eyes, his face turned toward the king, but his channel lowered into the lap of the overcome-with-lust Grand Marshal.

Three days later, at the king’s strong suggestion, the Grand Marshal ventured out on another one of his hunting trips into the forests on the valley side of the High Castle. When he returned, however, he found the gates of the castle closed to him and a large force of the Akamantis coming over the hill.

The king was not seen out of his apartments for two weeks after that, busy as he was in discovering the charms of his new lover, the dancer Cleus.

Toward the end of that period, the king found Cleus lying on his couch, naked and despondent one afternoon. The king dropped his own robes and came in beside Cleus and lifted his young lover’s leg and thrust a cock that hadn’t been this hard for anyone else in years into the young god’s passage. Although Cleus returned his kisses and murmured his love and devotion and praised the masterful cocking of the king, the king sensed a continued despondency.

“What is wrong, my fine young lover? I sense you are sad.”

“It is only thinking of the future, sire. I want nothing more than for this to go on forever—your magnificent strong cock showing me new avenues to paradise daily. But where is it going? What is to become of us? The barbarians are at the gate. I fear for our lives. I could not bear our lives to change from what we have become.”

“Never fear, my love,” the king said. “I have a secret.”

“A secret?” Cleus asked, his eyes full of innocence. He turned his face to the king’s and nibbled on his ear, while his hand went to the king’s rouged nipples.

“Yes, a secret. A secret passageway. We can escape into the mountains whenever we need to. And I have another, hidden castle in the mountains, not far from here, and stronger than this one. We are safe. We will always be safe.”

“A secret passageway.” Cleus repeated.

“Yes, I will show it to you. A passageway to a water gate coming out in a cave by a mountain stream.”

And, after Cleus had fucked the king to heaven once more, the king, indeed, showed Cleus the passageway to safety. And Cleus showed Raum the passageway that could be used in either direction. Then Raum, on a clear night within the week, when he was standing duty on the castle walls at the sea side, shot off the fire arrow with message attached that was a prearranged one-way communications means between the forces of King Severmist and their spy within the High Castle.

And on the night that the army of King Severmist crept into the cave beside the mountain stream and under the castle walls and into the very center of the castle keep, Cleus was abed with the king of the Tharsisians.

Cleus was on his back with King Kleemus knelt between his legs, sheathing his sword inside Cleus’s channel. And at the first hint of the sounds Cleus was waiting to hear, he unsheathed his own dirk knife from under one of the pillows and sheathed it again up through the underbelly of the king of the Tharsisians.

“Thus it is for traitors, a traitor to his own cousin, King Cresum,” Cleus murmured lovingly in Kleemus’s ear as Kleemus grunted his last breaths. “And this is for my father, King Cletar,” Cleus continued, his voice raised in triumph, as he pulled the knife out and plunged it in yet again.

He was standing, in robes of gold, beside the bed of the dead king, taking on a kingly stance as the forces of the Aram and Akamantis—his forces—rushed in the room to celebrate Prince Cleus’s victory over the Tharsisians, undeniably won by wit and cleverness where brute force could not prevail.

* * * *

Prophecy Fulfilled

“You are pensive and sad of countenance, Cleus, when I would think you would be leaping with joy—on top of the world.”

“Perhaps it is just the shock of your dispatching King Severmist at nearly the same instant that I was the undoing of King Kleemus. You surprise me, Watchman. I have observed you often working through other men, but hardly ever by your own hand.”

“Oh, the Lords of Sorso and Jerzu were ever so helpful,” the Watchman responded. “They have ever borne a grudge against Severmist for using—and then losing—Toma. I do believe each one of them was deeply in love with his talented channel. And then, when Severmist moved against his own cousin, the two lords believed one or both of them would be next. So, they struck first—and the death that came to Severmist was an ignominious one, one that gave him no majesty in the eyes of the people whatsoever.”

“And the lords? Where are they now?”

“Dispatched as well. It was rather messy, I’m afraid. They did not die well.”

None of this helped with the pensiveness in the dusky young prince that the Watchman had discerned.

He had waited to approach Cleus in the king’s chamber of the Enna palace until Raum had finished with him and had left the chamber.

The lovemaking between the two had moved the Watchman and made him mourn what he knew and accepted was the ending of any relationship he himself might have with Toma. Cleus was stretched, half on his side, half on his belly on the king’s bier in the center of the chamber and Raum was kneeling over him, hands kneading the dusky beauty’s shoulders, and cock buried deep in Cleus’s channel. Cleus was moaning his pleasure and acceptance and moving his hips in rhythm with the pumping of Raum’s well-trained staff. The taking was languid, as if they had forever. As if that was a choice Cleus could make. As the taking continued, they both become more vocal in their moans, and Raum lowered his body on Cleus’s, stretching out along the line of his body and moving him onto his belly. Raum was encasing him from above, touching him at every point he possibly could with his own body. His arms were stretched along Cleus’s, and the Watchman would have thought they had drifted off into sleep, were motionless, except for the entwining movement of their fingers merged together, the wave-like motion of Raum’s hips and Cleus’s pelvis, and the curling and uncurling of Cleus’s long, sensuous toes to the rhythm of the fuck.

At length both gave a low cry and the intensity of the movement at their loins quickened—but only momentarily, as they both gave out a long, low sigh and relaxed their bodies in one entwined whole. They slept then, but only briefly. Raum knew his position. His life, his function at court, had not changed. To Cleus’s low, huskily voiced objections, Raum raised himself from the platform and padded out of the chamber. Now was not the time for the court to have to officially acknowledge Raum’s function in Cleus’s life.

“I saw you with Raum, just now,” the Watchman said when Cleus had dozed briefly and returned groggily to life. “Is that what has made you sad?”

“You see everything,” Cleus said. And then he gave a quiet laugh, but it was not a happy laugh.

“I have seen you raised from the womb to manhood,” the Watchman said. “Our family was small, there all those years on the beach at Gela. It would have been hard to miss what developed between you and Raum. Is that what is troubling you?”

“Yes,” Cleus answered in almost inaudible tones and after a long pause.

“You are thinking on Cletar, your royal family, and how all of this complexity and treachery began, are you not? How he was. That he would not lay with a woman, would not take up his responsibility to the succession of the High Kingship.”

“Yes.”

“And you do not want to do to the nation what your father did.”

“No.”

“Raum means so much to you that you give this relationship such high regard?”

“Yes. But I am prepared. As is Raum. If I am to be High King, I will take the responsibility fully. I will be a Cresum, not a Cletar.”

“But you would rather just be the commander of the kingdom’s forces, would you not, and partner solely with Raum?”

“You know everything. Yes, yes, of course I would.”

“The oracle knew it would be so. The oracle knew and had knowledge of and faith in the future that I did not. And I believe it is the oracle, the Oracle at Noto, working for the gods, that has given you that trait of Cletar. It is nothing to be ashamed of, my son. You have done all that could be asked of you. What you have with Raum is something beautiful, not something you need—or should have to—deny.”

Cleus stood there, naked, both in body and soul, before his mentor and protector, the Watchman. There was nothing he could say. In days of joy, he was consumed by sadness and the heavy burden that he saw as his.

“Look up, Cleus,” the Watchman said in a commanding, yet gentle tone. “What do you see?”

Cleus looked up. What he saw surprised and perplexed him. But he could not discern what the Watchman was trying to tell him, what was happening here.

“Hello, brother,” a voice emerged from the shadows. The sound was followed by the appearance of a small, but well-formed Nubian.

“Toma. Is it you? Have you abandoned your life and family in Favara to return to us at court to take up duties here? If so, you are happily welcome. I seem to be bereft of advisers, the principle ones having recently been dispatched for treachery.”

“No, I’ve brought my wife and son with me,” Toma answered simply. “The Watchman called and I answered.”

“The Watchman called you to court?” Cleus asked, still confused.

“The misunderstanding is mine,” the Watchman interjected. “The oracle and the gods knew what they were doing. But it was a mistake I’m glad I made—and I believe the gods would not have permitted it if it were not a good thing for the kingdoms.”

“A mistake?” Cleus was still very much in the dark.

“You are not to be High King, Cleus,” the Watchman said. “The Oracle never meant that you were to be. Your making was by my making—because I misunderstood; I did not have enough faith in the oracle. But you can be the key support to the High King—and you can still have what you desire. You can still command the forces of the kingdoms and partner exclusively with Raum.”

“Not the High King?”

“No. The High King for a unified world is to be a king of peace and wisdom in ruling, not a mighty military commander. Does that trouble you much? I would be very wrong if I thought that it did.”

“No, no, it doesn’t trouble me, Watchman. It would lift a heavy burden from me. I would be overjoyed. But how . . . who . . . ?”

“I’m surprised I didn’t see it. If he had been like other men of Aram in appearance, I’m sure I would have. The oracle’s prophecy was that the direct line of King Cresum would lead to the High King who would unify the kingdoms of the region. My mistake was in not realizing that this man already existed before I schemed to coax a male heir from the loins of King Cletar. When I knew the truth, it was too late. You were already among us and loved by us all. My further mistake was not seeing that unity is in the ruling, the governing, not the military conquest. You can be a great soldier, a commander, but Toma has it in him to be a wise and fair ruler.

“The direct line from Cresum led through his oldest surviving son. The Nubian princess Nailah need not have lain with Cletar. She had already borne a son directly from Cresum. The moment Cletar was slain, Toma became that eldest surviving son. Toma is the gods-anointed High King of the lands of Aram, Akamantis, Tharsis, and the Kerastis. And he can and has begotten sons.”

Toma flinched and turned to the Watchman.

“Yes, Toma. Your Maia is bearing another son. What I can and do declare here and now is that the Prophecy of Noto has been fulfilled. King Toma is the High King. Long may his lineage reign in peace and strength—protected by the military prowess and fealty of his brother, Cleus.

-Fini-

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William

As I am following Daniel in my, I am recalling what happened. He just pulled me and kissed. I can still feel his lips on mine. I am still in aaawww.

We went to a sports bar called Fireman’s Arms (Cape Town, South Africa). We ordered drinks sat down and talked. Ordered some food and drank more.

“I am really enjoying myself, its been a while since I have been out on a Friday evening on a date”

“Ooo, so this is a date then”- Daniel said as he was grinning form ear to ear. Just that mischievous grin says it all.

Daniel – “Let’s get out of here, do you live close by”

“Not to far, just follow me” I said with my own mischievous grin and wink

So, we paid, got into our cars and drove to my apartment. As we got to my apartment, we could not stop ourselves from grabbing each other and just making out for the whole world to see. We entered my building, almost falling down the stairs. Kissing and groping each other. AS we are still in our work cloths, those tight pants are not leaving anything to the imagination, just as we got to my apartment door, we were going at it like it’s the end of the world, and we just heard someone clearing their throat. As we tried to calm down from our hype, I was thinking who the fuck is standing at my front door, as my back was towards the door, as I turned around, I just froze, and just looked at the person standing there.

“OMG, what the fuck is he doing here”- I thought to myself.

Dwayne

Damn, the traffic was terrible coming home. For a damn Friday. Wait, it was pay day. I forgot. Taking my tie off while pouring myself a drink. I move to the couch and turn on the Friday sports to see how the rugby is doing.

Wow, that was a pathetic rugby game. I got up to go for a piss and undress and hit the shower. The warm water running down my body feels so good. Suddenly my thoughts go to William. Imagining him in the shower kissing him, my hands all over his body and his hands all over mine. While my thoughts run away from me, I am busy jerking off and fuck it feels good. And finally, my orgasm comes hard, spurting cum all over the shower wall and floor. Fuck that felt so good. Still catching my breath while I finish up. I dry off and go lay down on the bed and I fall asleep.

I woke up to my phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hey bro, what’s up”

“Sure, that sounds good, what time do I need to be there. Three o’clock, see you then, bye”

It now 9:30am. Better get up and go hit gym to work out this stress.

I arrived at the gym and just worked myself till I really could not anymore. Got to the showers and went home.

It’s almost time to go meet up with my brother and sister. We come together once a month just to catch up on everything. And so, I go.

Daniel

My alarm went of Saturday morning. Me laying there just thinking of last night and what could have happened. Their we were, making out and groping, so horny for one another. And then we got cock blocked by this man standing in the doorway. William was just standing there looking like he was just kicked in the balls.

“Tom, what are you doing here”

“Can we go inside and talk, so that I don’t have to watch you fags make out”- Tom said

I was ready to punch this ass hole and William stopped me and pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear:

“Don’t, he is not worth it. I will call you tomorrow”

And he kissed me goodbye, turned around opened the door, they both went inside and left me alone in the hallway.

I got up and went to the gym. Got home and waited and waited for William to call. He did not. Sunday came and went by and no phone call from William.

My alarm went off Monday morning, and I just hit snooze. And so, another week begins. I finally got up and hit the shower and got dressed and, on my way, to work. As I am parking, I am looking for William’s car. He is not here yet. Damn, where is he. Got out the car and went to inside the office.

About 08:00, William is still not in the office.

A man came in and was walking towards me:

“Sorry to bother you, but I am looking for Dwayne. Is he maybe in yet?”

“Yes, Mr. Dwayne is in, I will show you to his office”

We finally got at Dwayne’s office,

“Morning Sir, sorry to disturb you, but there is someone here looking for you”

“Thanks Daniel, you can send them in”

I show the man in and left, and he said thank you.

As I am walking I could here the man giving his name, Steve Skyfall. But is that not William’s brother, why is he here. Did something happen to William. Shit, I hope that Tom guy did not do something to him. No, I am worried like hell about William, I need to find out what happened.

Dwayne

“Hi Steve, good to meet you”

Skyfall, is that not William’s last name. Wonder what the relation is.

“Sorry to bother Dwayne, but I am here regarding my brother, William. He was in an accident this weekend and he is currently in hospital”

“What happened, is he alright?”

“Yes, he is ok. I don’t know the details yet myself, but he is alright. He will probably get released in a few days”

“You can tell William he can take as much time he needs to recover. And thank you for informing me about William”

“Not a problem, thank you again for you time Dwayne. Here is my number if you need to get hold of William”

“Thanks Steve, all the best”

As I watch Steve leave my office, my heart just fell to the floor. Damn, I really hope he is alright.

And so the day went on and I kept thinking about William.

William

Daniel and I were like two young school boys, horny as hell. Just making out, each one showing more and more passion. Then the his hand just went for my dick, rubbing it through my pants, making me just hornier. And so my hand grabs Daniel’s package, rubbing him in all his glory, just ready to burst. 

I started hearing this beep noise, like beep, beep, beep. Like someone is on a heart monitor. It cant be my heart or Daniel’s, cause ours were racing fast. The beeping does not go away. Then I here people talking. I turned around and see no one. And as I am turning back to Daniel, he vanished. I am all alone in my hallway in front of my apartment. And suddenly there is a shadow figure of a man, walking towards and just as he reaches me, I wake up.

I am looking around and see everything white, with the heart monitor beeping. And as I look across the room, I see my brother Steve, looking at me, smiling with tears in his eyes and saying

“Morning sleeping beauty”

I am still so confused, I don’t remember what happend. The only thing I do know, I have a massive headache and body is aching. 

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[Written with thanks and a nod to a fairytale told by early twentieth-century Italian diplomat Daniele Varè]

The weight of the man lifted off young Han Li, who sighed, and attempted, unsuccessfully, to move from his prone, bent, and spread position. The imperial guard captain had been on top of the eighteen-year-old young man, between his legs, inside him, thrusting for so long that Han Li was numbed into that stance, his buttocks raised on satin pillows, his sleeping robe hanging open underneath him. He had been transported into the heavens.

The guard captain stood over the prone, divinely proportioned Han Li, staring down at the vulnerable, open stance of the young man, whose arms, the wrists bound together, were raised over his head, pushing the young man’s smooth, slim, boyish chest out. The young man was gazing back into the soldier’s eyes, with an expression of awe, surrender, submissiveness, and satiation while the guard stroked the last drops of his cum on the young man’s belly. The soldier was muscular, fit, at the height of his virility. The shaft he was stroking would not wither. The young man was just too inviting, too open to the soldier, wanting more. As if to confirm that, Han Li drew his knees up into his chest and rolled his pelvis up, to show the rosy-rimmed hole that had been opened by the thick-cocked guard was still open—and puckering. Rivulets of white cum dribbled from the pulsing opening.

This had been the first opening and invasion of the young man’s passage by a man’s shaft. Han Li had taken his deflowering well—more than well. The soldier dropped to his knees, gathered a moaning Han Li into his arms, penetrated the passage for a second time, and the two rocked against each other in renewed copulation. The second taking gave the young man more pleasure and passion and less pain than the first one had. Han Li dreamed of a third coupling.

The soldier, twenty-eight-year-old Ke Chuan, untied the red silk sash of Han Li’s robe from around the young man’s wrists and rose from on top of Han Li on the kang—the hard bed—in the center of the small pavilion off the Pavilion of the Tortoise in which Han Li’s father, the general of the imperial troops in distant Chinghai Province, Han Shui, was snoring away. He stealthily moved to the beaded curtain in the doorway between the two pavilions to ensure that the old general had slept through the deflowering of his young son.

Han Li lay there, still trembling and unable to close his legs and watched Ke Chuan move stealthily around his chamber. The young man’s eyes were dreamy with awe of the handsome, muscular guard captain who had coaxed his virginity to anal penetration from him, taking all guilt from him by binding him as he whimpered his fear mixed with want.

Although Han Li had been ripe for the deflowering and had carried his own in the tease to the bedding by the guards captain, Ke Chuan had masterfully seduced the sheltered country student, presenting himself as a young god, cultivating him, whispering encouraging and praising words to him whenever they were close to each other, fondling him and telling him how beautiful and desirable he was when they were in private, and taking Han Li’s hand in his, penetrating the folds of the guard captain’s robes, and introducing the young man to the arousal of a magnificent erection, whispering how much pleasure it could give Han Li inside him. Then, tonight, being so patient in preparing him and, only when Han Li begged him for the attention, binding, mounting, penetrating, and seeding him—and then mounting, penetrating, and seeding him a second time to assure the young man of the lessening of pain in repeated copulation. Having led a reclusive, protected student’s life to that point in a palace in remote Chinghai, Han Li had been vulnerable to the dazzle of Ke Chuan—and he had been more than ready to enter the bitten peach world.

It had been frightening and painful. It had been glorious, and Han Li wanted Ke Chuan to copulate with him again. He had thought for some time he would be with men as well as women. Many men in his family enjoyed the variety of bed partners. He’d no idea it would first happen at the center of the universe, in the Forbidden City itself, lying under the, perfect in every way, captain of the emperor’s own guard. His eyes followed Ke Chuan’s movements around the room, willing the masterful cocksman to return to him and take him again, teach him more positions and techniques, taking him again and again until there was no more pain, only pleasure.

When the guard captain had first crept into the pavilion and accosted the half-breed son of the western general, Ke Chuan had taken the precaution of coming masked and robed in the colors of the night and had bound and gagged the young man in his own silk sleeping apparel. The young man had struggled in surprise initially, but as Ke Chuan had surmised, his attentions were welcome and once he had smothered the young man in attentiveness to his sexual arousal and impulses and had thrown off his mask and robe and Han Le had seen who it was who was on top of him and between his legs—although of course he already knew—Ke Chuan was able to replace the gag with his mouth and to hold the young man in thrall to his demanding kiss, as he mounted, penetrated, and rode him. Han Li shuddered and writhed as Ke Chuan penetrated him deep, as his endowment allowed, and, eventually, the young man went docile and then fell in the rhythm of the strong, virile soldier’s possession.

The second seeding had been just as glorious, and Han Li had invited it.

Han Li had given Ke Chuan every hope that his attentions would be welcome earlier, after the western general and his entourage had arrived in the Forbidden City, summoned by the emperor but with an urgent need as well to apprise the emperor of the unrest to the west. The entourage had included the son he begat from his Italian wife, who had been the widow of an emissary to the imperial court who had died en route there and whom Han Shui had added to his collection of wives. Han Li, small of stature in his eighteen years on earth, perfect of body, with alabaster skin, and dark, shining eyes and hair, had come to Peking with his father. Han Shui wanted his son to pass the exams for the imperial civil service, and the young man had advanced as far as he could go with frontier tutors.

Han Li had not been part of the entourage that was granted an audience by the emperor Pu Yi in the cluster of Dragon Pavilions deep in the protected grounds of the Forbidden City, but he had been permitted to come to a courtyard in sight of the vermillion and gold pillared, open-sided throne room while his father gave his periodic report to the Son of Heaven on the military situation on the empire’s western borders.

As Han Shui reported, the emperor’s imperial guard stood at attention around the edges of the throne room pavilion. The attention of the guard’s captain, though, had strayed to the courtyard off to the side, where he saw the young, exotic, mixed-breed young man, Han Li, wandering around, admiring the plantings and the colorful architecture of the emperor’s compound within the Forbidden City. Ke Chuan was smitten and immediately decided that he must have this young man writhing under him and sheathing his shaft. Ke Chuan was accustomed to having his way with young men, and mostly with virgins he deflowered.

Han Li looked up to meet Ke Chuan’s gaze and smile and he was equally smitten.

Later, by judiciously asking, Ke Chuan informed himself on who the young man was, what he was doing in the imperial capital—and, to his delight, that he was a virgin to men using his anal passage. The guard captain had already ascertained from the looks he’d shared with the young man that there was hope that Ke Chuan could cure Han Li of his virginity.

Unbeknownst to Ke Chuan or Han Li—or that matter to Han Shui—Ke Chuan was not the only one who speculated on the beauty of the graceful and exotic young man roaming around in the side courtyard. From another pavilion before he belatedly arrived in his throne room to receive the general from the western province, Emperor Pu Yi had looked into the side courtyard and taken pause—a long pause—in seeing the form of Han Li.

Emperor Pu Yi made the same vow to himself as Ke Chuan had. He would deflower this young, exotic-visaged man, bestow his imperial seed on him, and add him to the secondary stable of mates he had—the stable of the young male concubines.

Over the next two days, Ke Chuan made it his business to approach the young visitor from the western lands as opportunity arose and to engage him in conversation and flirting, a familiarity that the emperor could not engage in. He was delighted to find that the young man was open to flirting with another man and that he seemed frustrated by the restraints his father put on him and was ready to spread his wings and fly in his own chosen direction. At the same time, the young man had been sheltered and was naïve and susceptible to the advances of such as Ke Chuan. Han Li innocently revealed that the bitten peach world of men pleasing men was more alluring to him than the court scholar direction his father was planning for him. Han Li knew that his mixed-parentage heritage made him exotic in the world of men seeking men.

In turn, the emperor made it his business to find out more about the young man, the reason why he was so exotically beautiful, and that he as yet was untouched, having been closely guarded by his father on the remote frontier of the empire, destined for the life of a scholar rather than a soldier.

For his part, General Han Shui was oblivious to the interest of the captain of the emperor’s guard, attentions from that direction being unspeakably below his status, but he wasn’t oblivious to the emperor’s interest. This became a delicate balancing act for him. He acceded to opportunities for added contact with the emperor by arranging to have his son nearby and in view, but he did so for the chance to discuss with the emperor how precarious the military position was on the western border, which already regularly was being breached by foreign hordes, and to focus the emperor’s attention on meeting the threat. In addition, one word from the emperor and Han Li’s entry into the court realm of the scholars would be assured. The general was not a fool, and he was a schemer. If finding favor with and gaining the ear of the emperor came from his son being bedded by the emperor, so be it. Having been bedded by the emperor and having pleased the emperor in this congruous accorded status on its own. If emperor experienced pleasure in deflowering Han Li, the young man would readily find a place in the halls of the academy. If he was taken as male concubine by the emperor for any length of time, this would not be openly spoken of, but he would have a place at court as long as the emperor reigned and was pleased with Han Ii.

Conditions on the border were enough in crisis for such a sacrifice. Already, in the general’s absence from his defense of the west, a foreign force was inside the borders and was advancing toward the capital. To add to this, Mongols from the north were even closer to Peking in the movement of military forces. The emperor needed to focus on the military threat, not the desires to dip his shaft in unused passages. If he was indulged with Han Li once, perhaps he would give attention to the real danger.

Ke Chuan was aware of the emperor’s interest in the Chinghai youth. He also was aware that if he were first in enjoying the young man’s passage and the emperor heard of it, his head would roll off his body. But he was a lustful, randy example of a risk taker, used to getting his way sexually because of the power and magnificence of his body as well as his position at the head of the emperor’s personal guard. And the luscious young man in question was a virgin.

As he had lain on top of the young man in the small pavilion off to the side of where the powerful, western general father of Han Li was snoring, Ke Chuan forced silken pillows under the young man’s buttocks to raise his virginal passage to the sacrifice, coaxed the young man’s thighs apart with his knees, and savored the young man’s muffled virgin cries reducing to whimpers and eventually to acceptance and a coordinated rhythm and deep sighs as he buried his cock deep inside Han Li’s channel. He reveled not only in the pleasure of stealing the exotic young man’s virginity but also in the danger of the moment.

Later, when Ke Chuan had unbound Han Li and been brought to wariness by the possible sounds of movement in the larger pavilion beyond and had stolen over to listen at the beaded curtain of the doorway into the central Pavilion of the Tortoise, he nearly laughed out loud when he turned to see Han Li, still on his back, still with his legs open and his buttocks raised, turned to him with a pleading look on his face and his arms raised and spread open to the guard captain.

Ke Chuan strode quickly back to the kang and climbed on top of the young man and they coupled for a third time. The virile guards captain was ever hard and the erstwhile virgin was insatiable. It was Han Li, who took the guard captain’s thick, long shaft in his hands and guided its bulb into place. Ke Chuan instinctively clamped his hand over the young man’s mouth to stifle the inevitable cry when he thrust his cock home. Mere moments later, as Han Li controlled the brutal slash of pain-pleasure, he grasped the guard captain’s buttocks in his hands and the two bucked against each other through deep panting and muffled moans in a frenzied dance of the fuck.

Ke Chuan smirked in the knowledge that the young man was lost to the power of his cock. All young men he got his shaft into were lost to his mastering. This was well worth the risk he took, Ke Chuan thought.

* * * *

“But, oh Son of Heaven, these are primitive subjects from the western edge of the empire. He may not be suitable.”

“I have checked. Do not presume to question my order. Bring the young man to my kang tonight. I wish to take a first bite into his peach tonight.” The Emperor Pu Yi gave his guard captain a look of surprise and disapproval for daring to trying to dissuade him from something he desired as if the soldier were a dog that had unexpectedly hopped out of a tranquil garden pond.

Ke Chuan presumed to continue, though, suddenly frightened what he might have done to disturb the order of the empire. The emperor could not have that first bite. Ke Chuan already had done so—and the bite after that and the one after that. “I am just noting the ritual of the emperor’s conquest of purity, Exalted Dragon of China—the ill luck that would come from a first lie with a concubine who was not a virgin.”

Mollified a bit, Pu Yi said, “You needn’t worry about that. I have thoroughly checked. I have queried the western general himself, and he has assured me his son is a virgin. The general would not lie to me about such an important matter. I have also had enquiries done among the general’s retinue and among my spies in his western household, and not a hint of scandal has surfaced about the general’s son. Besides, the young man is too young and has lived too sheltered and protected a life to have lost his virginity to a man. Considering who his father is, no man in Chinghai would have dared violate the young man.”

No, you want to violate the young man yourself, Ke Chuan thought, without entertaining the reality that he, Ke Chuan, had already violated the young man—repeatedly. And not that the general would know, the guard captain mused. The general had been snoring in the chamber next door when Ke Chuan had been ripping the young man’s virginity out of him and wantonly taking him again and again. And he nearly laughed at the emperor’s naivete in suggesting any youth was too young to cover and fuck.

Ke Chuan was thoroughly backed into a corner, though. If he revealed what he knew, his head would roll. If he didn’t, there was the curse of an invalid emperor’s conquest of purity. It was enough to bring the empire down. Which was the greater tragedy?

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what the greater tragedy for him would be. He also was fully capable of believing in the traditional rituals when and as he chose. He was close enough to the emperor to know that the Son of Heaven did that himself.

* * * *

“What is this? What is this doing here?” Han Li asked in a shaky voice. He’d been called into the Pavilion of the Tortoise, where he had spied, on an elaborate sleeping kang, a richly embroidered, large silk quilt. The background color was a bold yellow. His father, General Han Shui, was standing on one side of the kang and the captain of the imperial guard, Ke Chuan, was standing on the other side, one hand lifting up the corner of the quilt. Both men looked quite serious.

“Were you bathed as I commanded?” Han Shui asked his son in strained voice.

“Yes, father. But again, what is that quilt doing in here? That is exclusively of the emperor’s quarters. No one but the emperor can use yellow.”

“It is the ritual. You may not have heard of it in distant Chinghai,” Ke Chuan answered dully, his voice as much strained as Han Shui’s had been. “The ritual of the emperor bestowing favor on a virginal concubine.”

“Yes, I know of the ritual,” Han Le said. “I am here to study further for the civil service examinations, of which knowledge of the rituals is central. I’m not just starting my studies, though. I understand what the quilt is for—to deliver a concubine to the emperor for the first coupling and entry into his house. But how does that—?”

“I think you know how that applies here—how that applies to you, my son,” Han Shui answered in a tired, regretful voice. “The emperor has seen you. His interests are broad. I have no idea how he came to observe and choose you, but he has. I can do nothing about it.”

“But this can’t be. Tell him, Ke Chuan. Tell him why this can’t serve the ritual.” He looked imploringly and accusingly at the guard captain. He could not openly say it in front of his father, and he knew that it would be insanity and suicide for Ke Chuan to reveal that Han Li could not go to the emperor this way, as the ritual required the concubine to be a virgin. The question had been made without thinking, in shock.

Han Li was not a virgin. Ke Chuan knew exactly why Han Li was not a virgin. Ke Chuan had made sure Han Li was not a virgin three times that night. Han Li saw the predicament in Ke Chuan’s eyes, but he was a scholar of the rituals and believed in them. He couldn’t remain silent.

The ritual could not be observed under this circumstance. Ke Chuan knew it would be a sacrilege, not helped because the emperor did not know it. But anyone who knew it knew that it would be an insult to the gods, who would surely take their revenge. So, it could not happen.

“Tell him that it can’t be, Ke Chuan,” Han Li said, again, but Ke Chuan looked away from him to Han Li’s father and spoke to the general. “We cannot keep the emperor waiting. You know that. The emperor has spoken. You know that too.”

“Remove your robe and lie on the quilt,” Han Shui said in weary voice.

“Father!” Han Li exclaimed.

“Call in the guards, if you must,” Han Shui said to Ke Chuan. Bind and gag him, if necessary. Rumor is that the emperor enjoys such games.

The guard captain called in the emperor’s guards, and they stripped Han Li of his robe. Whether in shock or surrender, Han Li struggled only a bit but said nothing as they bound his wrists and ankles together with red sashes. And then he couldn’t protest aloud anymore, as they gagged him with another red scarf. They rolled him into the yellow silk quilt and carried him from the Pavilion of the Tortoise across the Forbidden City grounds to the Dragon Pavilion, the sleeping pavilion of Emperor Pu Yi.

And there He was, the Emperor Pu Yi, Son of Heaven, when the soldiers had deposited the quilt on the sumptuously pillowed kang in the vermillion and gold leaf-adorned Dragon Pavilion and unfolded the quilt from around Han Li’s slight, perfectly formed body and had backed, kowtowing, out of the pavilion. He stood at the foot of the kang, ensconced in a cobalt blue silken robe embroidered with a dragon, symbol of the emperor, in golden threads. The robe was open at the emperor’s groin, and he was fisting his erect cock in his bejeweled left hand.

The expression on Pu Yi’s face revealed that he was very pleased with what he saw. The fingers of his right hand went to the supple skin of the young man’s arms and thighs and chest. He groaned his need. Han Li could not turn away or resist in any way. This was his emperor. Very few in the empire were even permitted to look on the emperor’s countenance. And here was the emperor, touching Han Li in the most intimate way and places. The emperor untied the red sash binding Han Li’s ankles, ran his hand between Han Li’s thighs, nudging them to spread, and Han Li dutifully opened them, shuddering as the emperor ran his fingers over the young man’s inner thighs. The touch told Han Li that the emperor wanted him to turn his thighs outward and elevate his pelvis, and when the young man did, the emperor ran his finger across the young man’s anal opening, back and forth, thumbing the entrance, watching with interest and pleasure as it puckered and dilated. Han Li moaned for him and his opening puckered further as the thumb moved inside him.

Han Li couldn’t help from being awed by the honor being accorded him and couldn’t say he was unaffected by the emperor’s attention. He had been brought this far. This was going to transpire, and the young man wasn’t a fool. He gave in to reality and common sense. Not only that, he was a lusty-filled lad. He gave in to the coupling that was to follow. He began to rock his pelvis on the penetrating thumb, and the emperor knew the peach was his for the plucking.

The emperor was a handsome, majestic man, albeit heavy of body. His member was not of the girth and length of Ke Chuan’s in full erection, but Han Li’s eyes opened wide in surprise and pain-pleasure as now a long, slender finger crowned with two thick-jeweled rings entered him, the gems applying themselves to his prostate.

The emperor reached up and freed Han Li of his gag. The Son of Heaven was holding his shaft in his hand while the fingers of his other hand were exploring in the crease of the young man’s buttocks, and he was twisting his pelvis toward the young man’s head. Han Li was shuddering and rocking on the bejeweled finger inside him. He knew there would be another imperial digit inside him soon. There was no avoiding that. All he could do now was to try to save his lover from discovery. He had to be a virgin for the emperor. The expectation of what the emperor wanted Han Li to do now was clear. But the rituals of the gods were clear also. He could shield Ke Chuan. It could be someone else, someone back in Chinghai had deflowered him already.

The young man gasped and sighed and started to speak, “Sir, you should know . . . the ritual . . .” but the emperor shushed him, murmured how beautiful his body was and pushed his shaft between Han Li’s lips. The young man opened his mouth to the cock, and whatever he might have wanted to say was silenced.

As Han Li sucked the imperial member, the emperor removed his fingers from the young man’s passage, glided the fingers of both hands down Han Li’s inner thighs, coaxing the young man to open his legs more to him—to spread and bend his legs, place his feet flat on the surface of the kang, and to push up on his feet, elevating his pelvis more. Pulling his now-throbbing staff from Han Li’s mouth, the emperor moved between the young man’s thighs.

Han Li, having already lain with Ke Chuan and knowing what the desired position was for the deepest penetration of the cock, moved as the emperor was coaxing him to. And then he cried out as the emperor impatiently thrust inside him and, holding the young man’s pelvis in place by grasping and raising his hips, plowed him quickly to a first seeding. He was the emperor. He need not be sensitive to the needs of his partner, only his own. It mattered not if they were virgins to the cock. He could take his pleasures as he pleased, and he did so with Han Li.

The surprise and shock of being so abruptly and brutally taken covered for this not having been the first time Han Li had swayed with a man in copulation. Han Li naturally responded and sobbed in pain and violation as a virgin would do. After that there was no reason for Han Li to point out he had not been a virgin. His response to the emperor’s thrusts had been that of a virgin, as they had surprised and taxed Han Li. All of that refinement around them in the Dragon Pavilion and its rich appointments did not change that the emperor fucked Han Li with the abandonment of a rooting animal.

There were no restraints on what the emperor could do. Once his natural sexual desires took over, it, by right, became all about him and serving his desires. When he was copulating with a concubine, female or male, once lust took over there was no sensitivity to the feelings, needs, or even survival of the other. The emperor brutally took his pleasure—there was no restraint to doing so. If the concubine were ruined, there always was another one to take her or his place. Thus, when he lay with Han Li, the emperor ripped his own pleasure out of the young man, who, fortuitously, found he was aroused at such conquering and whose passage had, mercifully, already, thanks to Ke Chuan’s thick cock, become able to take a man’s phallus.

The emperor was no Ke Chuan in the phallus department. If Ke Chuan had taken Han Li this brutally, the young man surely would have been ruined. Having already been plowed by a thicker and longer shaft, Han Li managed the emperor.

Pu Yi immediately became obsessed with his new toy. Not much later in the evening he fucked Han Li from the back, the young man draped over the side of the bathing pool on his belly and the emperor behind him, hands on Han Li’s hips, fucking him in the position of the dog, as any illiterate peasant in the alleys of Peking would do. And then later, through the night, on the pillows of the kang, with, at last, Han Li straddling the emperor’s pelvis and riding the monarch’s cock in the position of the camel crossing the Taklamakan desert.

Han Li felt the cock of the guard captain more, but the emperor’s technique was more varied and demanding—and cruder and more primeval. The young man melted completely to the demands of and satisfaction provided by his sovereign lord. There was something to be appreciated in the refinement of Ke Chuan, but there was greater animal satiation in the total, unfettered taking the emperor indulged in. If the emperor wished to fuck a young man to death there would be no barrier to or punishment for doing so, and that provided some higher level of arousal in the young man from Chinghai.

The young man gave in to the emperor’s needs and desires completely, and he forgot all about the defilement of the ritual. The gods did not forget, however.

The emperor, young enough and bored enough otherwise with life to call for a wife or concubine two or three times in the space of the day, was so besotted with Han Li that he neither called for another attendant for the next five days, bestowing all of his imperial seed on his new, young, luscious lover, nor appeared on the Dragon Throne in the throne hall to attend to business.

This despite the foreign hordes relentlessly closing in on Peking from both the north and the northwest.

* * * *

“I’m sorry, General, the emperor is not receiving today.”

“He must see me,” General Han Shui told the emperor’s chief attendant. “Foreign armies are nearing the walls of the city. We must mobilize to counter them. I need his chop on my orders.”

“He is indisposed.”

“He can’t get his phallus out of the tight passage of one of his concubines,” the general cried out. “That is not being indisposed when the enemy is at the gates.”

“Not just any concubine,” the attendant shot back with the accusation. “Your son, who you tempted him with. The emperor is in ninth heaven with the young man you yourself brought here from Chinghai to weave your family’s power around the Son of Heaven. Well, your plans to ensnare the emperor are working, but they obviously won’t do you any good.”

“My plans? MY plans?” General Han Shui puffed up and turned red. “These are not the plans I had for my son. They certainly are not what I want for the Central Kingdom. I’ll show you.”

He turned to the captain of the imperial guard, Ke Chuan, who was standing nearby.

“I must speak with you,” the general said. The two went off, beyond the columns of the pavilion onto the platform outside and put their heads together. The guard captain was seen to recoil from the discussion in horror. But the general drew him back in, they talked some more, and Ke Chuan eventually was nodding his head even though he looked decidedly dismayed.

That night, on the walkway at the top of the wall surrounding the inner, imperial compound of the larger Forbidden City compound, a beautiful young man stood, looking to the northwest, beyond the walls of the city to the flares of a thousand campfires of the northern enemy forces. He was melancholy. His life in the emperor’s household as a half Chinese half foreigner, as exotic and sexually appealing as it had made him, had not led him to the life he had hoped to have.

Responding to a sound coming from farther along the wall, he turned, and said, “Oh, it is you, Captain Ke Chuan.”

“Yes, it is I,” Ke Chuan said, coming in close behind the young man, embracing him from behind and gathering up the material of the young man’s robe, getting his hands under the hem and pushing the robe up to the young man’s naked waist. The young man sighed as Ke Chuan buried his face in the young man’s throat, placed a hand on his belly, positioned his cock head with the other hand, penetrated, and started to fuck the youth who he’d first taken as a virgin.

The young man murmured, “Yes, yes, yes,” but his voice was reduced to a gurgle as Ke Chuan wrapped his hands around the young man’s throat and squeezed. Ke Chuan continued the fuck as the young man’s hands ineffectually scrabbled as Ke Chuan’s hands on his throat. The youth relaxed in death as Ke Chuan released his seed.

Before letting the body drop, Ke Chuan sliced the head of a battleax up from out of the darkness and caught the young man in the face, smashing his beautiful face beyond all recognition. Before his body could sink to the stones of the path, the powerful guard captain had caught his small body, wrapped in its yellow silk robe, hoisted the body over the top of the wall, and let it fall to the stones of the courtyard below, allowing the body to fall out of the bloodied robe.

He turned to one of his soldiers, handed him the bloodied yellow silk robe, and said, “Take this to General Han Shui as proof that it is done—that the emperor has no reason not to pay attention to his imperial duties now. I have something else I must do.”

* * * *

The next morning the Son of Heaven, Emperor Pu Yi, was distraught almost beyond himself, but he appeared, as was his duty, in the Dragon Throne Pavilion to receive the report and request of his equally distraught and subdued, Chinghai Province general, Han Shui, and to provide the needed chop on the decree to mobilize the army to go out and meet the enemy at the gates of Peking.

“I only hope it is not too late,” General Han Shui muttered under his breath, adding, “and that we all live to appreciate the sacrifice this has required.”

Having heard what his general muttered, the emperor turned a tear-stained face to his general and said, “Living in this earthly realm is nothing like awaits the Son of Heaven in the beyond.”

Then, having been dismissed like everyone else from the throne pavilion, General Han Shui strode off to see what he could still do to save the city and empire from the foreign devils beyond the gates of Peking. The emperor, demanding that he be left in solitude, walked out onto the raised platform extending from the columns holding up the pavilion and hung himself by the throat from an ornamental Maidenhair tree.

And thus the gods exacted their revenge on an emperor who failed to observe the ritual of the imperial initiation of a virgin concubine, even though Emperor Pu Yi didn’t have the most remote knowledge that the ritual had been breached.

* * * *

Ke Chuan rose from on top of Han Li from the berth on the junk floating off the coast in Bo Hai, the Gulf of China, pulling his cock out of a channel that was oozing his cum from repeated seedings. The young man lay there, panting heavily, moaning in a low tone, his legs spread and bent, his buttocks elevated on a cushion, totally besotted and sexually satiated. Ke Chuan had fucked the young Chinese-Italian for hours, making the young man unquestionably his.

Han Li had left the Forbidden City willingly with the handsome, virile, big-cocked guard captain. It had been flattering to be obsessed over by the Son of Heaven, but, sexually, it hadn’t been anything like being plowed by Ke Chuan. He was so happy to see the guard captain come to where he was being confined for brief periods between sessions with the emperor that he asked no questions about where they were going and how Ke Chuan was able to arrange the escape.

Since Han Li didn’t ask, Ke Chuan didn’t need to decide whether to tell him that another Chinese-European young man had been sacrificed in Han Li’s stead. The young man, a concubine who the emperor had been given as a gift of tribute by a French priest who had acted as a doctor at court until he was dispatched for trying to proselytize his imperial patients and for, unbeknownst to the priest, giving the emperor used goods. In this case, Ke Chuan had reported to the emperor that he had taken the young man’s virginity himself before he’d known the French priest would give the youth to the emperor. The emperor had been enthralled with the young man for a few days anyway and had maintained him in the household without calling for him again. Ke Chuan had been using him since then. He regretted losing him, but he found couldn’t lose Han Li.

Ke Chuan went to the railing of the junk and stared back at the Chinese mainland. He could almost believe that he could see the glow of the fires in Peking from here, although the Forbidden City surely was too far away for that to be possible. If the Chinghai general survived, perhaps he could tell the old man someday that his son had not died—had not needed to be sacrificed to end the Emperor Pu Yi’s obsession with sex with an exotic mixed-breed young man and turn his attention back to his duties of preserving the empire. Until then the duplicitous general deserved to suffer in ignorance.

But Ke Chuan could never tell the emperor what he had done.

It would be some time before Ke Chuan learned that the Emperor Pu Yi was now well beyond any worries of this earth—or that this had been because Ke Chuan had been there first with Han Li.

Ke Chuan heard the musing of entreaty from the kang and turned to find Han Li begging him to return to him and inside him. The virile soldier took his staff in his hand and shook it to stiffen it as he returned to the kang, grabbed Han Li’s ankles, and cruelly jerked the young man’s legs open, knelt between his thighs, thrust inside him, and began to pound him hard. Writhing under the powerful soldier, Han Li arched his back and cried out a “Yes, yes, just as He does. Take me like an emperor,” having told Ke Chuan that he occasionally wanted to be fucked like an animal of the forest in highest heat as the emperor did it.

A man’s work with a randy, demanding young man is never done, Ke Chuan thought, with a sigh.

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Jamie 19 was unable to go to college and had applied for a job as a Directors Assistant at Dee &’Hardon Company Limit. He was a former football player who did not do to well as his studies and he had also failed to gain a scholarship to the 5 colleges that he applied for as his grades were too low. He was well built and the hours spent at the gym had given him a great definition. Everybody said what a good solid built he had and it made his Muscle Bubble Butt stand out like 2 prized winning melons, high round and firm. Women were always commenting on it which please him.

He was very nervous as he had been for lots of other jobs since the year that he had graduated from High School with no luck. At this moment he was sitting outside Mr Richard Hardon’s office waiting to go in for his interview. His suit was tight and uncomfortable and the tie around his neck was was killing him. He was also wearing a fitted shirt which was soaked with sweat due to his nerves. He should of wore a vest as advised by his Dad, but as usual he did not listen or take advice being too pig headed as usual and they loved each other but did not always get on being only the 2 of them, his other brother lived with his Mom.

His name was called and he went into the door held open for him. Mr Hardon rose to greet him and invited Jamie to sit down. He appeared little distracted and seeing that Jamie appeared hot he said look this although this is formal interview and I can see tht you are nervous, you really have nothing to worry about. I am going to ask you a few questions and please take your time to answer them ok . 

He then said look its warm in here, why don’t you loosen your tie and take your jacket off and hang it on the hook on the wall. Jamie stood up removed his jacket and as he turned round Mr Hardon got an instance erection. Jamie’s suit trousers could hardly contain his Muscle Bubble. Dammit Mr Hardon though “I must control myself and treat this one carefully as he has already got the job, forget all of those over qualified candidates Jamie is the one and I am going to Fuck him before he leave this building today”.

He said “its Jamie right let me start by asking you a few question ok, Why do you want this Job”? and Jamie responded to this and the other 7 questions reasonably well. Not that he was listening as the blood had gone straight to both of his heads and he was delirious with lust. Pulling himself together he surmised well this one not as good as some of the more qualified candidates, however with that Muscle Bubble Ass who cares. 

The last question that was asked was “How much do you want this job and what will you do to convince me to employ you over the other people that we have seen over the last week as its a Hard On choice, I mean a Hard Choice”?

Jamie was stumped and said partly out of nerves “well although I am not qualified as some of the other candidates, I am eager to serve you in any way that I can and he smiled. Mr Hardon nearly jumped out of his chair and ripped Jamie’s trousers and pants down and stuck his big dick up his Jock Ass in one stroke, but he restrained himself. 

He said Jamie if you don’t mind me saying so but you have a great smile, a fit gym body its clear that you work out and I have to say “A Prize Winning Mouth Watering Ass”. “I laying it on the line in that I am wiling to offer you a 6 month trial, but you need to satisfy me that I am doing the right thing by not employing those other highly qualified candidates instead”. 

Jamie took this in his stride as he could see the Butt Hungry Glazed Lust look that he had notice that Mr Hardon had had since he removed his suit jacket. You see that he been hit upon before by Mr B Cock who had sucked him off and feasted on his Sweet Shaved Ass Pussy for amongst a year before he left his full time education, but he never allowed him to fucked him as he was not ready to go that far as he was ‘Straight’ for Fuck sake. 

He said “look Mr Hardon I said I will make sure that you are satisfied with my performance” and he stood up, turn round and peeled his trousers and pants down and removed them alongside his shoes and socks. He peeled his shirt off and place it on the other chair in the office. Fully naked and sweating in anticipation he then placed himself on the chair with his Ass up and open and his Shaved Asshole was pouting with anticipation.

As he did this Mr Hardon called his Secretary Cindy and asked her to go home as he was going to speak to the candidate further on a more personal level. It was 4pm so she thought hurrah great I can get home earlier. Then she thought, ah poor young man, by the time Dick Hardon finishes unloading in his Ass tonight and regularly thereafter he will be walking bow legged for a while often with big with old wet patch’s soaking his tight trousers bottom area regularly.

Cindy had seen this before and cast her mind back to his previous Assistants who had come started and stay for a year at a time but quit when 2 of them could not take the constant Hard Poundings that Mr Hardon dished out daily some times these lasted all day as well as the constant weekends away. These also involved serving some of the larger Dicked clients from Russia, Africa and the Arab states.

Greg was one, a Dark haired clean cut corporate type like those men that you see working in Wall Street, who came in boasting of a fiance called Justina and having night out with his friends chasing pussy. However within a month he looked completed worn out and tried to put a brave face on it. His relationship almost broke down as he spent to much time at work and Cindy often heard him crying out Mr Hardon “I can’t take anymore of your big fat cock in my Ass as its worn out and I also am having constant Anal Orgasms which is crazy I am not GAY”. “Also Justina is also fed up and is going to call the wedding off as I am too tired to have sex with her”.

Mr Hardon response was “that not my problem now get on your back pull your hairy legs back and show me that Hot Ass Cunt”. This was followed by her hearing Greg gasp and the sound of the bed in Mr Hardon’s office banging against the floor when he plunged his hard on deep into Greg’s willing depths pounding him out continuously. 

30 minutes later Greg staggered out of the office sweating, his usual immaculate clothes askew and his breath and body smelt of Cum and his face was flushed. Cindy ask him “are you ok” and he said “yes and scuttle back to his office and he could hardly walk. She had to give it to him, that he lasted the full year but left after a memorable weekend away serving several special clients. However after getting doubled fucked and pounded out so hard that the bed broke, even he had to admit he could not take getting fucked so hard anymore and left immediately. Last Cindy heard was that he was a fully Bi Sexual Bottom living with a guy and girl somewhere upstate. Surprise Surprise the wedding with Justina never took place.

The another assistant was Mathias he being of Lithuanian descent and was built like a farmer and could take big cocks like a champ. He almost wore Mr Hardon cock out so much so that he begged off fucking him. The clients on the other hand were fully satisfied and after one memorable week with 3 Big Dick Russians who nearly satisfied the Mathias, insatiable he decided to work with them full time and moved to Russia where he entertaining all of their clients who were notoriously Hard to please but were impressed with his stamina and determination to satisfy all of their numerous Sexual needs

They said that he was better than all of the women that they had been with previously and this included some well experience whores who boasted that they could satisfied any man. Well not as good as him it appeared. Mathias was married before he came to work for the organisation but were satisfied by the hard fucks that he received that there was not way that he would go back to being a ‘Straight Man’ for anybody.

The other assistant Jose got a better paying job and left. Cindy smiled at the memories and left, not before peaking in at the camera in Mr Hardon’s room and saw that he was Ball Deep in Jamie’s Muscle Pussy who was propped on the office chair, his face was beet read. Poor Guy I wonder how long he will last?

Jamie at that very moment thinking how the Fuck did I end up in this position. As soon as the phone went down he was being eaten out and Mr Hardon’s tongue action appeared to be searching for buried treasure in his ass. He had an extra large tongue which breach Jamie’s hole who was sweating continuously with sweat running down his back into his ass crack lubricating his hole. Mr Hardon pause and “said normally I would like to take my time by I need to Fuck You Now Jamie”.

He greased his cock and placed his fingers at the entrance of the lips of Jamie’s Ass Cunt. He took his time as he knew the consequences of penetrating to quickly in a guys ass and he want this first fuck to last a bit although he thought that he would bust as soon as he entered Jamie’s tight Virgin Ass. His cock had been throbbing and drooling for ages since he first spotted Jamie coming through the door. He advised Jamie to breath slowly and push himself onto his large fingers. The Asshole sucked the first, then second and third fingers in easily and when Mr Hardon touched his Prostrate Jamie jumped. The constant stimulation nearly made him Cum and he was sweating and moaning and breathing heavily.

Mr Hardon removed his fingers and place a small cock size Dildo at the mouth of Jamie’s ass entrance and slowly inserted it. He did this for a few minutes and not being to wait any longer removed it and placed the large head of his penis in the entrance of Jamie’s hole. It went in like the fingers and Dildo and after his hole was popped it sucked straight into the asshole which gripped his cock firmly. He went slowly in withdrew slowly and then re-entering the buttery moist hole slowly.

When he was balls deep in Jamie’s sweet asshole he said Fuck Jamie you definitely have the job. “I am going to start fucking you slowly now as I dont want to hurt you but I must tell you I am a Hard Task Master and will be fucking this sweet ass a least twice a day. Also overnight stays re meeting with clients is a must as well as weekends away, do you think you will be able to commit to this schedule”?

Jamie said “Yes I think so but can you go a little easy as your cock is so big” he moaned as Mr Hardon bottomed out throbbing deep in his ass. He had never felt so full and every part of him was tingling. Mr Hardon started pounding Jamie harder who was finding it difficult to stay on his position on the chair. He nearly slipped of when Mr Hardon went in little to deep and he asked “can change position please”. 

“Sure of course lets go into the next room” and he cock walked Jamie into a fairly good sized room with a double bed in it. He removed his cock from Jamie’s Ass Pussy and said lay on your back and pull your legs up and back and keep them open as wide as you can like when you are fucking your girlfriends”. Jamie blushed at the mention of fucking his girlfriends and when this was done Mr Hardon laid on top of Jamie and inserted his hard as steel cock straight into his Ass and plunged deep into his sweet depths. Jamies moans grew louder and his mouth was covered with Mr Hardons who slipped his tongue deep down his throat and started to fuck him “but not too hard as he thought that can wait till next time”.

Jamie came suddenly all when his prostrate was been hit upon all over his stomach and right up to his neck and he bit into Mr Hardon’s shoulder screaming with pleasure as he had never felt this pleasure before with any of his girls. After fucking him through his orgasm it was not long before Mr Hardon came deep in the sweet sucking asshole. He laid onto of Jamie and started making out with him.

He rolled off Jamie and sat up looked at him and said ” Young Man your ass is amazing have you been fucked before”? “No came the response I am a Ass Virgin and have only be with 2 girls before, i assure you nothing has been up my ass before”. “However Mr B Cock at High School sucked me off and ate my ass out often as soon as I turned 18 on my birthday in September, I recall he came on my ass and ate it all up, but I never allowed him to fuck me as I thought it was too Gay”.

Mr Hardon said “look Jamie in this firm we Work Hard and Fuck Hard this was a taster today but I will be fucking you hard everyday first thing in the morning and as often as I can often over the day”. Also you will expected to let the Clients Fuck you and have larger cocks than this Deep within your ASS” and pointed to his fully erect penis which bobbed about. “I really need to know if you will be able to handle all of this, as I was not clear with Greg and ” he pointed to picture on the wall of a dark haired wall street type beauty “he said he could handle all of the hard fucks that were thrown at him, but clearly that was not the case”. “Mathias on the other had who left 3 months ago, was insatiable for large fat cocks and moved to Russia with 3 Hard Fucking clients, he is a great loss to the firm”.

Jamie thought about what he said and responded “well Mr Hardon please fuck me again a little harder this time as I suppose I better get use to getting Fucked Hard hadn’t I” and with this he pulled his legs up and open and pulled Mr Hardon on top and fully into him who fucked him for a number of hours.

Later that evening he got home and said to his Dad, “Dad I got the job, its long hours and I will be worked hard but will learn a lot I think, also the moneys really good, maybe I can go to night school in the future to gain a degree ok”. 

Oh that great news well done Jamie and his Dad stood up and gave Jamie a big bar hug. He sniffed at Jamie and noted that he was sweating and smelt of Cum. He thought I guess I know what Mr Hardon will be having Jamie do all day, plowing his Hard Dick deep into our Jamie’s Muscle Bubble Pussy lucky Bastard. “Go and have a long soak in the bath as you looked well Fucked after such a long day”. Yes I will” and Jamie left the room

Jamie’s Dad called Mr Hardon and said “well I was right wasn’t I Jamie will make an excellent replacement for Mathias”. However don’t forget our deal when you have one of those overnight stays that I want to be one of those anonymous clients that he has to service blind foldedd with his ‘Hot Boi Pussy’ tell me about today in full I want all of the details and the Video . 

Jamie’s Father came so hard a when Mr Hardon started describing what had occurred earlier that day saying to himself “You Lucky Bastard”

The End

“Oh that a stupid” idiot Hugh Hemp Will said stomping into the office. “What’s the matter” Richie said. “That fool has really screwed up the training schedule for the next 3 months”, “why the hell he was put as the head of the project I don’t know, he has zero experience and is really a Cocky little bastard honestly somebody should teach that idiot a lesson and bring him down a peg or two”. 

Richie knew exactly why he was given the role as it was rumour that he had fucked one of the Area Managers Matt who wore the mask of being a hard drinking womanizer at work, but really was a Cock Hungry Power Bottom who he seen in a sex club being banged out by multiple men and hat was their secret as Matt was shocked to see him there and had avoided him ever since. “

He thought “yeah Matt defiantly had an hand in his gaining this high position job with his zero experience as it was clear that he had a hard on for Hugh”. Richie did the same ever since he set eyes on him 2 years ago and he practically stalked him turn up on numerous occasions outside his department hoping to catch a glimpse of this Muscle Hunk. 

Hugh was a fit Aussie Bloke who looked like dream. He has a masculine body with muscles in all of the right places and a fairly good looking face although it was little sharp and he wore clothes which showed off his muscles of which there were many. However Hugh’s his best feature was his Muscle Butt. When he walked his Ass had attitude with each ass mound straining against the material of what ever pair of trousers fitted or not as well as jeans that he wore and as he walked across the offices it jiggled bouncing all over the place with every step.

Simply delicious Richie thought, ” I know he not into Guys but I would love to sample a piece of that”. He was pleasantly surprised that Hugh had turned up at his new place of work and could not keep his eyes off him but restrained himself from following him. Hugh had notice his staring and keep on giving him hostile glances, so Richie thought one day “fuck it I am going to speak to him now”. 

He went up to him and said “I know you it’s Hugh isn’t it, didn’t you used to work in St Martins building”? “Yes the response you have a good memory”. ” Yes I do how are you getting on”. “Oh you know its tough and the schedules mad busy and I know that members of my team including Will resent my getting this position, but I am getting there”. “Well if you need to have a chat, I am available, as I use to do you job and am ace at doing schedules amongst many other things”. Hugh smile and said “I may take you up on that” Richie and they laughed and chatted for few more minutes and parted ways. Richie’s eyes were firmly fixed upon Hugh’s Muscle Butt saying “fucking hell what a guy I have got to have him what ever the cost”.

This opportunity came by change when they a week later they were both in the same pub at a the Area Managers Matt leaving do. It was a really hot evening and loads of alcohol was consumed followed by numerous shots. Matt had to leave early as he had another appointment and he was cling on to Hugh’s every word staring at him adoringly, it as embarrassing really. Richie slowed down the booze as he did not want to show himself up in front of his work colleagues who gossip a lot and this had ruin many a career. Also he had fallen off a Bar stool a few years ago and had never lived it down.

As people left Hugh came over to him completely pissed out of his head and stated slurring “oh mate I don’t know how the fuck I am going to get home can I crash out yours”. “Yeah sure and they ended up at Richie’s place.

The next morning Hugh woke up with a banging headache and a feeling that some thing was not rights as a mans arm was draped over him and his whole body was pressed against his legs were entwined against the other person. He thought “shit where am I” and realised that there was something deep in his ass which throbbed and stated to spit globs of cum into his guts.

He turn his head round and realised it was Richie smiling at him. “What the Fuck and what are you dong with your cock deep inside me you Gay Bastard”? 

Richie said “what do you think Fucking you in your Ass Pussy you Fucking Ass Slut ,don’t you remember asking me to suck you off and begging me to eat you Hot Ass out like Matt did, just so that you could get this high paying job that you are not qualified to do”. Don’t you remember asking me to finger you arse cunt and when I hit that button inside you, you came like a foundation”. “When I said if you have a dick in muscle ass pussy, that you would love the feeling it would bring when being fucked and that was better then being fingered, you said yes please fuck me”. 

You fucking loved it and were insatiable as we fucked all night you could not get enough of my cock, you really are quite the ‘Power Bottom’, so here we are with me Deep in you Ass with you hungry hole sucking my dick milking my shaft like a Fucking Suction Machine you Anal Whore”.

Hugh’s face look a picture and he went beet read and spluttered “I don’t believe you ok”. Richie said “hand on a moment” and he produced his phone. He was still deep in Hugh Ass slowly fucking him as the Slut hole was gripping him like a vice and he showed him the videos from last night, of him being pissed asking Richie for a kiss then when that stopped, Richie was asking him about if he was sure and he said “yeah kiss me”. He then said what happened with you and Matt and Hugh Said oh him he was desperate for my Cock but I let him blow me once and he would not leave me alone it caused lots of issues with partner Sally and we broke up”. 

The video then cut out Richie said “look at you phone and passed it to him”. Hugh open a video showed him kissing Richie and then asking him to please sucked me of and begged him to eat my ass showed every detail of and Richie was doing. Then Richie suggested ‘Fucking him’ and Hugh said “Sure why not”. 

Richie reached for his phone and showed him saying to Hugh are you sure you want to film this and Hugh said yeah I love watching myself fucking women and mu body is on point who would not love this body eh!! Getting a man dick in my Ass is a change for me”. The film cuts to Richie’s Dick entering Hugh’s Muscle Pussy and he gasped and pulls Richie down for a kiss. Richie had to put his phone down but you could clearly hear Hugh moaning and saying “Oh Fuck my Muscle Pussy please Richie I need you to Fuck Me Down, please harder, I’ll be you Anal Whore amongst other things”. 

Hugh tried to keep face but his body especially his gripping Ass Hole was still gripping Richie’s Dick was clearly betraying him and said “yeah that you took advantage of me” and Richie laughed and said “ok lets go to the Police then yeah and tell everyone at work”. He pulled his cock out of Hugh’s Ass. Hugh look doubtful and felt empty and said in defeat ” I’m not Gay”. 

“Who said you were, men are always fucking men these days haven’t heard all of these celebrity’s and reality stars banging on about sleeping with men but still have there Pussy Entourage around them releasing all of those Sex Tapes, how ever with that performance last night you definitely fit into the Power Bottom/ Bi Sexual Bottom category and should be right proud of that” “You are still a stud to lots of Women, but with those Ass Muscles alongside you Hungry Snatch, Damn Hugh you will have a great time with a variety of Sex with both Sexes” You really are one of the best Fucks that I have encountered”.

Hugh shook his head and said “I’m strictly straight and Richie said Yeah Hugh as a Friend of mine used to say ‘Straight to Bed’ and started laughing”. Even though Hugh was pissed off he started and laugh and said “I really need the bathroom and can I have a shower and some headache tablets”. “Yes of course towels are in the cupboard I will get the tablets”.

An hour later they were siting in the kitchen having breakfast, Hugh seem in no hurry to leave and he said “this is nicer then mine, I am in house share smaller than this flat, do you live with anybody”? “No all by myself I would love someone to live here with me and I have a couple of spare rooms and it would be nice to have some company”. Hugh smiles and said “look I have never been in this situation, lets say we try some of that lovin again, I hate to admit but I have never experienced some one up my Ass before and may have had a couple of internal orgasms but I am not sure”.

Richie said “Hugh I Gotta Fuck you now” and stood him up greased himself up and place his cock at the entrance of Hughes hole and cock walked him up the stairs and into the bedroom where they Fucked each other all day and night long…

The next day Hugh moved in and became the Power Bottom that Richie’s always knew that he was.

The End

I arrived at Austin’s home around 5:00 PM in a state of pure lust and yet very nervous and anxious about how it would feel to make love with a man. As I rang the doorbell, my mind ran wild: Would it really hurt to take that BIG 9-inch cock deep in my man pussy? What if I could not satisfy Austin and thus it would be only a one-time fuck? My hands were wet and slimy as my legs felt very weak.

Austin answered the doorbell wearing only a pair of bright yellow tight briefs showing off his awesome hot body with a huge bulge in the front of those briefs that was for sure his huge cock. WOW FUCK, there he stood with his 6-feet and 6-inch frame; an awesome ripped muscled body of around 200-pounds of pure manly pleasure to see; gorgeous flaming well-groomed red hair and sexy seductive hazel eyes; and the typical smooth almost hairless body that comes with being a gender type guy. 

I on the other hand had very different features and a much smaller guy at 5-feet and 11-inches; weighing only 160-pounds with light brown hair and dark brown eyes; and a rock hard 8-inch cock as I stood there in total heat for Austin. As I looked at that hunk with a growing wet spot in the front of those sexy yellow briefs, I knew sex was just ahead to end my virginity for ever. Oh my god, I was horny as hell.

As Austin welcomed me into his neat condo, we soon realized that we had no interest in chitchat when he grabbed me in a strong embrace as our crotches collided with our hard cocks banging together trying to escape our clothes. I felt my shorts beginning to get wet from my leaking precum.

Austin kissed me gently on my lips as I felt his warm sweet breath. He grabbed my butt hard pushing my pulsating cock even deeper into his warm crotch and hard cock with that wet spot in his yellow briefs widening.

He kissed me for several minutes and then he stopped as he said in a very seductive voice: “Hey you cute horny virgin, you’ve come to the right guy to take care of your built up desire and lust  to no longer be a virgin. The day is over that you only masturbate while watching those hot porn stars fuck each other. I’m going to fuck the hell out of that nice pink ass of yours. Lets get rid of these damn clothes, get butt naked and let me see that sexy body.  Come with me to my bedroom and let BIG Austin help you see stars as I fuck that sweet virgin ass. I’ll make you bust a huge load like you’ve never had before. It will be the most mind blowing orgasm ever for you.”

OH FUCK YEA, I’d never been this horny as I heard those sexy dirty words from Austin and the feel of our bodies clinched so tight and the feel of those cocks trying to escape our clothes.

“OH FUCK YEA AUSTIN, please make love to me. Take away all this virginity and make me your bitch tonight. I don’t want to be a virgin any longer. But please be gentle as it is my first time.”

“HELL YEA BRANDO just relax. Don’t forget, I’ve fucked lots of hot dudes including several virgins who took my BIG COCK for their first cock up their tight man pussies. They loved what I could do for them.”

We rushed to his bedroom and soon we were both butt naked with his awesome 9-inch horse cock and my stone hard 8-inch dong standing straight out leaking more precum. Neither of us was interested in foreplay. It was time for Austin to breed my tight virgin pussy with his experienced horse cock.

Austin had me get up on his king sized bed on my back, spread my weak legs far apart   that allowed Austin to get between my legs to my expose puckering ass. He took a bottle of scented lube and dumped a big load on and in my ass with his fingers as well as he lubed his throbbing rock hard cock ready for man action. My ass was puckering like never before as I felt that large cock head  touch my ass entrance sending chills up my spine. I began to hold my breath until Austin told me to relax and breath normally. He also instructed me to push out as if I were taking a shit. He really knew how to help me get ready for that 30-year-old awesome slab of man meat. I followed his instruction excited to receive his manhood.

HOLY FUCK, OH MY GOD, I felt his leaking wet cockhead part my ass lips and he slowly drove that cock past my second ring of ass muscles going deeper and deeper in my sphincter. I felt such pleasure on my ass walls as that big cock rubbed hard against those walls. WOW, I felt some pain but at the same time such a sensuous contact between my soft ass and his rock hard cock flesh. It was happening at last, a big man’s cock was up my ass for the first time. YEA, that was great.

Once that cock was balls deep in my ass, experienced Austin held that cock in place until my ass had time to adjust to the feel of being stuffed with such a huge object. When I gave him the go ahead, he began to move that dick partially out and back deep in my pussy with one thrust after thrust. It was obvious he knew how to use that BIG cock to fuck another guy’s man pussy in a magical way. As he sped up using his cock to fuck me, he leaned down and used his lips and tongue to kiss me while still pounding my ass. The feel and smell of his mouth and breath on my face and mouth somehow made his cock even more pleasant and desirable in my ass. I began to moan and use my hips to push up my ass to receive his BIG cock deeper in me. My own cock was stiff as a board and throbbing like never before.

I became lost in some type of ecstasy driven by a raging increase in testosterone experiencing sexual pleasure like never before that was so much better than when I masturbated watching porn stars’ fuck. This was much better. The taste of Austin’s tongue in my throat and hosting his pulsating cock deep in my pussy had me dizzy from all that skin on skin.

Austin knew what to do next as he noticed my total acceptance of his cock in me. He stopped kissing me  and holy fuck he took hold of my aching steel hard cock and began to jack me off while still fucking the hell out of my ass.

I lost all inhibitions and became like some slut filled with carnal lust as I begged: “OH FUCK YEA, OH MY GOD, OH SHIT, OH YEA, FUCK YEA, FUCK MY ASS, FUCK ME HARDER, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING BIG COCK, COME IN ME, MAKE ME YOUR BITCH, YOU’RE ONE FUCKING HOT DUDE,  YEA YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE A MAN LOVE THAT BIG HORSE COCK, I WANT YOU SO BAD, DON’T STOP, GIVE ME YOUR SEED NOW.”

As my ass muscles learned how to squeeze his massive dick and all my dirty talk took hold it became too much for Austin. I felt his cock swell inside me, his breathing became short and he sped up pounding my ass. I knew he was close. Soon he shouted: “Here I come.” Holy fuck he unleashed a massive load of cum deep in my pussy that set me off as I exploded with a massive strong orgasm that landed on my abs, stomach, chest and face.

When we both were spent, Austin pulled out his still semi-hard dick covered in his cum and had me suck it clean. Gee, that was my first taste of another man’s cum. It tasted great. In turn, Austin licked up my cum off my body and swallowed it with a big grin as he said: “WOW Brandon, your semen is some of the best cum I’ve ever tasted. I love it.”

I lay in Austin’s arms for the next hour as we enjoyed the taste and smell of all that cum as well as covered in lots of sweat after such wild sex.  We agreed that I would come back the next Saturday when Austin would teach me more about other sexual positions, cock sucking and other hot acts.

BY: Brandon, the now former gay virgin dude   !!!!

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Special thanks to the awesome BjornG for all he does for the site; He works so hard for many hours each day–we thank him for the great guy he is. THANKS MAN !!!!! Naughty Eric

This is based on a true story – Please leave your comments its only my third time writing a story so feedback is appreciated.

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Some stats, I am 24 muscular, average length but thick cock, uncut, completely hairless, brown eyes, dark brown hair. Cody (not his real name) is 18, swimmers built, smooth, big long cock, piercing green eyes and dark brown hair.

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So I have been seeing this girl who is still in high school, final year. She is cute and we have been having a thing but she has no idea that I am Bi. We haven’t gotten around to discussing this yet. From the first time I met her brother I was drawn to him this guy barely legal, turned 18 two weeks after I met him, was cute as hell hair slightly in his face, a smile that would just melt you on the spot. But Cody was very shy, he didn’t really talk much but I already then decided that I would make him my first virgin victim. So I kept coming over to my girlfriend’s house and would see him and we would start saying hi and bye to each other and so on until we realised we both shared an interest in gaming and were geeks at heart. He came to my house with his sister once or twice and we had the usual banter one night about how sex was with his sister and what we like girls to do and so on, he said he also had a girl a few months older than him and that they were experimenting but haven’t gone all the way yet since she worries his big dick might hurt her. 

I laughed it off, “Yeah right, no such thing as too big”, “ummm hmmm” he said. Then as time went along we became good friends and I saw him once or twice without his sister there. Then one day I came into their house, and as I stepped into the hallway to his sisters room he came out of the bathroom just a hand covering his dick walking to his room, since he forgot his towl. The sight of his washboard abs, cute pecs, and a cock that was hanging below his hand gave me a semi, not to mention his cute bubble butt going up and down as he said “hi” and went past me. I knew I had to get that on top of me.

His mother then started mentioning a few days later that he is starting to give them some issues with his behaviour and that he is not focused on school college and taking life as a joke, but also that he is upset to not have a place of his own and some privacy. His sister affirmed that its because he told her that he is not sure if he is all for girls only and his mom would be devastated if he is gay or bi. I suggested to her that maybe he should come stay with me at my place a few days and I can talk to him and just give him some space, she said she will ask but doubts her mom will agree, being that I am older and more open to modern culture than them. They were a weird family and especially her and the brother seemed to share everything with each other, which was odd compared to how I am with my siblings.

I was lying in bed one night  when my girlfriend called me hysterically, saying that I need to come fetch him and talk some sense into him cause her mother just threw him out on the street after she caught him watching gay porn on his PC. I obliged and rushed to their house. There I found him sitting crying on the sidewalk in a tight shirt and his trunks only. I went to sit next to him and console him and told him to come with me, stay at my place and once she calmed down we will come talk to his parents in a few days. He got up and into my car I couldn’t help but notice a sizeable buldge in his underwear and the streetlight just lighting up enough to watch his cute butt move to the other side of the car. I told my GF to tell her mom he is safe with me for a few days dont worry I will get him some clothes and whatever he needs, in more ways than one it later appeared, and bring him back once they are calm and we can talk.

We got to my house and he went in and fell onto the couch crying, being a cold winter night, I went to make us some coffee and got him a blanket to regrettably cover himself up. We started talking and he confessed that he thinks he is Bi and has become more attractive to guys despite him and his GF still fooling around. He started crying and placed his head on my chest and held me and I held him telling him it’s ok I understand, I am the same but his sister doesn’t know. He looked at me and just kept crying. After a while, he calmed down and I suggested that he goes and takes a shower and I will make us something to eat and get him some of my clothes to wear. He got up and went to the bathroom. “Oh, I hope you won’t mind sharing the bed, I converted my spare bedroom to an office so its that or the couch,” I said. Hiding the fact that I had a spare bed concealed in the closet of the spare bedroom. “Sure, you have done so much I really don’t mind, it’s so cold a cuddle might just be what I need” he replied, was he suggesting what I was thinking?

I got up and put some steaks on and made some salad and fries, while I was busy he called from the bathroom. I knocked, “Come in,” he said. “Do you mind if I use your shower gel, obviously didn’t bring anything.” “Of course not,” I said, looking at his now fully naked body standing in my walk-in shower, wet and hot, I got a hard-on and was so tempted to just rush in and take him. “Like what you see?” He said, looking down I see my tent in my pants “Ummm sorry man just been a while your sister has been so busy” I replied, “Its cool man I know”. “But yeah use whatever you like in my cupboards should be some clothes and underwear for you once your done” “Thanks man,” he said.

I went back to coocking, he got out dressed in a tracksuit of mine, that was a bit big for his smaller frame, but the thought of him in my clothes made me want to cum. We had dinner chatted some more about what he liked and if he every tried anything with a guy “I mean I like big muscular guys but never tried anything until now its less than a month ago I discovered that the guys is making me harder than the girls watching porn” he said. “So when we were swimming and stuff last week the sudden games in the pool?” I asked, “He it was an excuse to touch and look at you with less clothes on” he replied. “Well ok, lets finish up and head to bed, I still have work in  morning”.

We finished up and went to the bedroom where he looked at me saying “Thanks for everything tonight I just feel so comfortable sharing with you and not being judged and dont worry I wont tell my sister your bi.” ” I would appreciate that man, and no worries my door is open for you anytime” (my back door I meant). He started stripping down completely “hope you dont mind I kind of like sleeping naked” he said. “No worries I sleep in my underwear though” I said pulling down my clothes leaving nothing but my tight black trunks on.

We got into bed and I switched off the lights and went to sleep, I got awoken later feeling his body right up against my back his dick pressing against my butt. I could feel him breathing in my neck and his hand coming over my body. He started feeling me up and down over my abs and pecs, slowly, gently placing his hand on my cock. He started rubbing it slighly, until he got the courage to put his hands inside my trunks and grab hold of my cock. I nearly moaned in enjoyment, but manage to let out only a slight sound, he stopped. Thinking he  awoke me then i just kept laying there until he started again his hands now reaching and playing with my balls. Without notice he pulls out and then starts rubbing his now, semi hard dick against my butt his hand trying to pull down my underwear he pulled it down slightly and pressed his cock against my naked butt but not far enough so he can reach my hole. Again he put his hand on my cock started stroking it and I let out another slight moan, wondering if its wrong to have this barely legal teen doing this to me, but it felt so good, my head instead of my brain my decisions further. 

I grabbed his hand and held it tight. He jerked “sorry I didn’t mean to, just when I am sad I go horny, and I thought earlier you were sending me signals” he said in histeria. “Calm down how about I turn over and you pull down my underwear and put your lips around my cock?” “are you sure?” he replied. “If you are sure you want to do this” I said, “yes its my dream come true”.

With that he went down and started licking the head and then my balls taking them and putting them in his mouth completely while using his hand to work my cock, its was so good. Then he started sucking me bit by bit going deeper, I started to grab his head and force him down, choking him a bit. “Breath, relax you can do it” he tried again but his throat just wasnt used to it and I let him go as fast and as deep as he could about two thirds was all he could manage. “Slowly I am gonna cum” and with that I pulled him off. “Did I do something wrong?” “No cutie but I dont want to drown you its my turn now” I said. With that I pushed him onto his back and went down quicky realising his GFs complaint his dick is easy 11 inches and thick I started with his head then playing with him edging him, not taking it all deep “I am close please dont stop can I cum in your mouth?” with that I took a deep suck taking it all the way in until my lips touched his balls. I was working it hard then suddenly I felt him spasm and jerk and grabing hold of my head forcing his cock to stay in my mouth as rope after rope of cum shot down my throat, I had to swallow some or my mouth wouldn’t be big enough.

“OMG that feels so good” he said, I came up to him placing my body onto his letting his wet cock touch my, thats now leaking precum as our chests meet and I start to kiss him. “Do you like this” I said as we share his cum. “Yes, yes I do” he replied. “I pulled away slightly, parting our lips, want to fuck me in the ass?” “O yes, do you have…” he was saying when I interrupted “Condoms are for girls man, you cant get pregnant so and I’m clean so why worry?” “Ok, I trust you”. Good now take that mouth and lick my hole get it nice and wet so you can get in there with that big cock” I got off and onto all fours on the bed, he got behind me and started using some of the cum in his mouth to wet my hole. “Stick your finger in and loosten me up baby” I said. He started one then another then another, for a first timer the kid was amazing. He then said “are you ready” “hell yes I am stick it in there and fuck me like its your last time” 

He pushed his head against my hole, slowly entering making me moan and groan of pain and pleasure at the same time “OMG your big, jesus” “Am I hurting you?” he asked, “just keep going I can take it” I replied. He pushed until he was all the way in letting out moans of pleasure, then he started going in and out fast and faster. “Your girl is missing out on a lot of pleasure baby” I said. “O wow you take it so easy, I understand now what you said about not ever being too big” he replied. He went from making love to fucking me hard and then suddenly “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” “Dump it in me I wanna feel that cum” I replied.

He orgasmed leaving some more cum in me, as he started pulling out he kissed my back, then my butt and then he turned me onto my back and fell on me and we made out. “That was amazing, OMG, please keep this between us.” “What? You think we are done? Nah brah, I wanna put my cock up that sweet ass” I said, “I am not sure I will be able to take it your so big” he said frightened. ” Just relax I will go as slow as we need to, you can lower yourself onto me, ok” I said. “just take it easy its my first time having anything inside me” With that i told him to sit up and put his ass on my face, I started licking him hard, pressing my tough to enter his tight ass. He started moaning in pleasure, nearly falling down as I rimmed him. I started inserting one finger, at first he moaned in pain “Relax, you have to relax or its gonna hurt” I said “Ok try again” he said his voice shaking as his cute butt was on my face and his now sweaty body ontop of me.

I went again then another one, until I could fit three in there next to each other making him nice and loose. “You ready?” “Yeah just be gentle ok?” he said. I then turned him over until he was sitting on me, his hole just milimeters from my cock, I started grinding him until he reached back and took my dick and pointed it straight as his pink virgin hole. He got up slightly and started lowering himself down. My cocked pressed hard just parting his hole he gave a shout, I quickly pushed my hand over his mouth “Shhh the neighbours will hear you” I said “Sorry its so big, OMG” he moaned as he kept pressing down about half way down he started going up and down slowly until i put my hands on his hips and forced him all the way down in one quick move, he moaned and then he started riding me like a professional bull rider. 

OMG his ass was so tight I had to hold back not to just burst all over him, he went up and down until he got tired and I pulled him next to me, spooning him as I took my dick and put it back in and started fucking his cute ass hard. “I am cumming” I shouted “Dont pull out leave it in” he said, and barely finishing his sentence I came inside of him and I kept my dick inside of him until we fell asleep, cum dripping out as it started getting softer releasing the seal on his hole.

We lay there spooning asleep until I woke up the next morning with him gently pushing back into me until my dick was hard and I reach around felt up and down his body placing my hand around his month cock, my ass still aching from the night before as he turned around and we kissed “Shall we go take a shower” he said. We got up and hand hot shower sex and continued having sex all over the house for a few days until his sister called saying its safe to come back, allowing him much needed experiment time, and allowing me a new fuck buddy for life.

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let me know if I should have a followup story.

Early Time

I stuck to my promise never to go from the cave alone. My promise, however, crumbled into many pieces—and not because of anything I could have helped. One time Big Stick left the cave to gather food, and he did not come back. We already needed food badly when he left. He waited until he could wait no longer, showing that he did not want to leave me but could not take me with him—that there was trouble on the air in the land of the Sharpspears. He knew that bands of the Yellow People had been coming into the land and that there was war upon our world.

But at last he had to go—and because of the danger abroad, he refused to take me with him.

And then he didn’t return.

When I could bear the hunger—and, yes, the sense of grief—no longer, I left the cave myself and climbed down the cliff face into the forest below. I cannot say that I cared whether I lived or died at that point, but my hunger had overpowered my willingness to starve myself to death in mourning for my lost Big Stick—for I did believe he had died. I could not think that he would stay away from me for any other reason.

I immediately fell into trouble. I had no sooner started off into the forest than I heard thrashing about. They came close enough that I could smell them. Meateaters. A band of Sharpspears. I moved away from them—only to come close to another band of them. Turning again and then a third time—helped by my hunger—made me lose my sense of where I was.

I kept moving. I did manage to find food and water, but then I heard a band of Meateaters nearby again—very close—and I just turned and slipped away. I walked and walked, without knowing where I was going. When I eventually came to a clearing, I saw that I had moved very close to the land that rose up sharply to meet the sky.

I heard voices, but they weren’t the primitive grunts of the Sharpspears. It was some sort of language—some means of way of making each other understand by sounds they made with their mouths—but it wasn’t the language of the Gentle People either. It was more complex, and it was spoken in differing tones, almost sing song. Strangely, though, it was harsh as well as sing song. Curiosity got the best of me, and I moved as quietly as I could across the clearing to a fringe of trees on the other side. The forest wasn’t thick here, though. There was another clearing beyond—a strange clearing, as it was really like a path, but much wider than ones the Gentle People made between their village and field.

And when I got to where I could see who was making the harsh sing-song noises, I was amazed—and numb in shock. There was some sort of wooden cart on the cleared path. It had round circles of wood at its corners that raised its platform off the ground. At the near end of this cart was a long wood stick that curved up. A strange-looking man—yellow skinned and slanty eyed—stood near the cart. He had a thing, such as the Gentle People wore, covering his tube, but it was dirty, and he was standing this side of the cart. He had a wooden yoke around his neck and his wrists were bound to the end of this on both sides. There was another yoke beside him, but it was on the ground. Tied to it and also lying on the ground was another man such as the first. A third man, covered in a white cloth, also yellow skinned and slanty eyed, was standing beside these two and was beating the man on the ground with a whip.

I should have turned and fled. But even if I had, I would have run into the small party of other yellow-skinned, slanty-eyed men who were stealing in behind me.

As, yoked to the wagon and straining along with the other man to pull the cart up the side of the land reaching for the sky, I tried to think on what was happening to me and why I was here, I chose to think that it didn’t matter. Big Stick had not come back. I had willed myself to be no more. The pain and strain of pulling this cart—and knowing that another had died in this yoke before me—spelled my fate well enough.

On the other side of the mountain, I was astonished to find new wonders. The Yellow People sheltered not in the forest under branches, nor in a cave, nor even in the grass piles of the Gentle People. Their shelters were made of wood and were squared off in neat four-sided bundles.

I didn’t live in one of these shelters, though. And the only times I went in one was when the man with the whip pulled me into one and slapped my thighs open and made groaning sport of my hole with his penetrator—which gave me no problem, his being much smaller than that of Big Stick.

Where I was sheltered was under a tree, tied by leather strips to the trunk of the tree. There weren’t even low branches for me to hide from the rain and sun under. Whereas the Yellow People lived in wooden shelters—and had mastered the leaping, hot flickering fingers that warmed within rock containers inside these wooden shelters—I was sheltered no better than I had been when living among the Others. Much worse.

For untold changes of light to dark and back to light, when I was nudged awake in the dark, I would be handed a bowl with sticky and watery grains of white food in it. Happily, no one of the Yellow People tried to make me eat meat, although they themselves ate fish from the waters. Then, before light returned, I was herded with others, some Yellow People, some Sharpspears, but all as enslaved as I was, out into a water-covered field, where I soon learned along with the others how to work with growing and dividing and growing the white sticky grains that I was given to eat. They were filling, though, so I could not be sad about that.

During my time with the Yellow People, I slowly began to understand that the sounds they made had meanings and to learn what some of these meanings were. I never, however, was able to make those sounds myself. There were just too many of them and they were too complex—and the Yellow People sang them just too quickly. I was awed, though, that these people not only had fields of food plants they laid out nearly like those of the Gentle People, but also that they had wooden shelters for themselves and carts that moved over the ground and a way to move many thoughts and meanings to each other.

As the world became cooler again in another cycle, the water was drained from the fields and we harvested the grains, which were put in tightly woven baskets and loaded onto the cart with the wood circles at the corners.

Then, once again, I found myself bound to the yoke of this cart—for that was what it was, a land vessel to carry the baskets of sticky white grains—and I was helping to pull the cart back up the side of the land reaching for the sky. This was only slightly less backbreaking than trying to keep the cart from running over and crushing me on the way back down the other side.

We seemed to be moving on the same wide path where I had first encountered the Yellow People, and pushing toward the ribbon of sand that ran into the broad sea stretching to the horizon where the first light after the dark rose in an eye-torturing disk.

We were struggling along, with the man with the whip jabbering harsh sounds at us and flicking us when we weren’t moving fast enough, when he stopped jabbering in a gurgling sound. I looked around in time to see him crumple to the ground with a pointed stick running completely through his chest and out his backside.

Sticks were flying all around us, and the other Yellow People, who had been walking around the line of carts that others like me were pulling, began falling down or turning this way and that with their own pointed stakes at the defensive.

I have no idea how long this went on, because I felt a stinging pain in my shoulder and looked down in surprise to find that I too had been struck through with a pointed stick. I went down like a rock, with my last feeling being of rolling down between the two circles of wood at the front of the cart I had been pulling.

When I woke, I was feverish and sensed that I was jabbering in some variation of the Yellow People’s language. My arm, which was covered in leaves, felt like it was too hot for me to bear, and my eyes could not focus.

Through a cloud, I saw a huge body of a male leaning over me, lifting my head and pouring water into my mouth from a soaked piece of white cloth. Not knowing what I was doing, I had the vision of the white cloth being just like that which covered the Yellow People. Only later, when I was more aware, did I find out that this was exactly what it was.

I knew that the man giving me the water was a Meateater Sharpspear. As a habit, this realization caused me to painfully open my thighs, ready to receive him. That could be the only purpose for him trying to revive me.

Later—I know not how long ago later—I opened my eyes gain. The fever was gone, and my vision was clear—or at least not nearly as cloudy as it had been before. I saw that I was in a cave and I was alone, although I heard grunting and humming sounds coming from the dark recesses of the cave.

I dragged myself to a sitting position and winced at the pain in my shoulder. But I saw that the leaves were the right ones—the ones that would pull any poison from the pointed stick out of me and would help heal the wound.

I was in pain, but it was not too bad. And the pain told me that I was alive. That in itself was a surprise—whether a good surprise or a bad one I did not know.

I managed to get up on my feet. I would have moved better on all fours, except that the pain was less on my shoulder when I stood. There was a thick stick near the mat I was on and I used it as a crutch.

I moved slowly, but deliberately, toward the back of the cave, toward where I heard the sounds of a man coming from. I could see that it would be no use moving toward the mouth of the cave. Its floor was not at ground level. Beyond the ledge outside the cave, I could see the tops of trees. I would never escape that way.

And I was tired, so tired. I had no idea what new dangers and difficulties faced me now, but I decided that I would face them—that I would find this Sharpspear and lie under him—and then maybe he would let me go, go to another world. Surely whatever world there was out there after this one, it would be less cruel to me than the one I had existed in to now.

When I got to the back of this chamber of the cave, I saw that there was another chamber beyond it. And that the second chamber was filled with the light from the dancing orange and red miracle that some of the worlds I had lived in seemed to know how to make—but that my own world of the Others did not.

The Sharpspear was crouching, facing the wall of the cave. The wall was covered in colorful drawings—drawings that started to flood back into my memory as both my mind and eyes cleared.

Big Stick was painting on the wall. A new episode to our story. The story of my return to the cave. And to him.

He turned and looked at me and opened his arms wide. I looked down at the stick I was leaning on. It was Big Stick’s carved cudgel.

Present Time

“I tell you I did not undermine you in the acquisition of those stone carvings. I would never do anything like—”

“Gloria told me, Timothy. She told me that you revealed our bid to the Houston Museum so that they could outbid us.”

“Gloria is a bitch, Jay. If anyone did it, she did. You know she’s been trying to break us up. I think she has eyes for you herself.”

“Here, give me a leg up. It looks like a cave entrance up there. And I don’t know. I just don’t know. I thought you cared.”

“You don’t know how much I care. I’m here with you now, aren’t I. This wasn’t the wisest place to be—and I told you so. There are still headhunters around here. One of the Rockefeller boys disappeared near here, you know. They never found him. And Amelia Earhart.”

“Shut up, Timothy, and give me that boost.”

The two men made their way up to the ledge in front of the cave mouth.

“Would you look at this?” Timothy said in awe, as they entered the cavern. “This might go back to earliest times. There definitely was habitation here. Look, they had fires out there on the ledge outside the opening. They knew about fire.”

The two spent an interminable time examining everything in the cave that possibly could have been linked to human habitation. But at length, Jay had worked his way to the back where there was another opening into the darkness.

“There appears to be another chamber behind this one, Timothy. Come, bring the flashlights. I want to see if there’s something—”

“Holy-moly, would ya look at that—?”

The two of them stood there, in awe, for several minutes. They trained the beam of the light back and forth over the wall of the second chamber. There were cave drawings—and in color, in whites and yellows and browns and reds all across the back wall. They had difficulty determining where the drawings started and where they ended—assuming there was any progression there at all.

“It’s magnificent,” Jay uttered when he could speak.

“Yes, it’s almost arousing. It gets my juices going. I haven’t seen anything like this outside of the caverns of France—maybe not even there,” Timothy answered in a voice laced with wonder.

“Only almost arousing?” Jay asked. As if in answer, Timothy came up close behind Jay, nuzzled his throat, and brought a hand around to cup his crotch. “OK not almost then,” Jay whispered. “You feel it too, don’t you? Something almost sensual, sexual about this cave.”

The two held there for a few moments, lost in the connection, Jay slowly rocking his pelvis against Timothy’s cupping hand. But a bird cawed out at the cave entrance and, almost in embarrassment,” the two broke and moved away from each other.

Trained scientists that they were, the two moved to find the beginning of the story being depicted in crude, but artistic, drawings on the wall, once they recognized that it, indeed, was a continuing story.

It was thirsty work, and Timothy went back to the main cave to retrieve their water canteens.

“It’s a love story,” Jay called out at length, having followed the progression along the wall. “It’s obviously the life of two men devoted to each other. And it lasted to the death. Here, at the end, the smaller of the men crouched over the larger one. Unmistakably tears falling on the dead lover. And this last panel in a decidedly different hand than the rest of it. And, oh my god, come back in here, Timothy. I think there are a couple of skeletons back here.”

Jay stood and turned. Timothy was standing at the entrance of the second chamber. He had a strange expression on his face and his arms were half raised, cradling an object. Jay looked closely and saw that it was a staff—a cudgel, really—intricately carved and notched.

“I found this on a high rock ledge in the other room.”

“Quite a find,” Jay said. “The museum will love it. You’ll no doubt get the assistant curator position you’ve wanted now. It must be eons old.”

“I want you to have it. This will be your find. I didn’t undermine your acquisition of the rock carvings that went to the Houston. And I want to make you believe me by my giving this to you. You will rise to curator on this.”

“Put it down, Timothy.”

“Why?”

“Look into my eyes, Timothy. You’ll know why then. The love story on this wall is deeply affecting and suggestive. I believe you, and I apologize for doubting you—and I am in the mood.”

“Here? Now?”

“And why not? This seems to have been the perfect love nest. The walls do not lie.”

Timothy fucked Jay there, on the floor of the cave, on a tiger skin, preserved over the centuries by the protecting dryness of the cave. Jay lay on his back, his eyes turned toward the wall carvings, picking out the several times depicted of a larger man fucking a smaller one, in the same position Timothy was fucking him—his knees under Jay’s buttocks, raising Jay’s pelvis for a straight angle for Timothy’s deep penetration, while Timothy held Jay close with an arm under his waist and sucked on Jays nipples—and thrust and thrust and thrust.

Some desires and melting positions had never changed over the ages, not since the beginning of time.

-Fini-

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