Lingering on the porch, relaxing in my chair after the boys ambled up the stairs to their bedrooms, trying, but not succeeding, to will the setting summer sun to remain with me for just a wee bit longer, knowing the dusky, twilight would soon morph into the darkness of night, I couldn’t help but reminisce, recalling the time after Mattie’s encounter with the principal and how everything in my life and the life of Mattie and David, changed for the better.
Summer days, this far north, are long and full, the sun remaining above the horizon until after nine in the evening, providing just enough light to fish, work, or enjoy the outdoors, compared to the winter when it was full dark by four in the afternoon. This particular evening, the sun changed from a delightful red to a soft pink, portending a nice day for tomorrow, before slowly dipping below the horizon. No matter how determined I was to mentally persuade the fiery globe to remain, it did as it always does, disappear slowly and inevitably behind the forest trees and horizon. The dusk turned to night and the incessant, demanding hum of the biting, stinging, blood-sucking mosquitoes replaced the evening trills and songs of birds as those creatures found perches in branches, buildings, and other places of refuge to spend the night.
It was this time of the day or night, during the summer, David and I would sit on the porch, holding each other, visiting or not, just pleased to be in each other’s company. I missed this most of all, his closeness, his comfort, his love for me and me for him, still longing for his companionship these years after his death. In the winter, we’d sit on the couch in front of the fireplace where the bright, flickering flames of a wood fire would not only warm but cast a soft illumination in the room and, if I looked up, on his face, bringing me comfort and ease my mind of any stresses.
Our home, while living in Cedar Falls, changed after our encounter in the high school principal’s office. School for Mattie and Jacob became more enjoyable once Kenneth was transferred out and a new principal was named by the Dean. Saturdays and homework together, at either our home or Jacob’s when the opportunity arose during the week, became a time of learning and enjoyment; each enjoying the other’s knowledge and intellectual capabilities. Jacob and Mattie were becoming inseparable; true friends who would, in the long run, become more than friends.
Mattie, by my observation and in fact, true, was the dominate one with Jacob the happy, obliging submissive, fussing over Mattie at every opportunity, which Mattie absolutely loved! He, on the other hand, relished being Jacob’s advocate and protector. His elocution skills in arguing his case before the principal became well known mainly due to Jacob proudly re-telling the story, embellishing it with each telling. The question always arose in the telling; “If Kenneth’s locker was locked and Mattie denied putting the object there, then who did?” Jacob never answered it, shrugging his shoulders, allowing the listeners to provide their own answer. Invariably, Kenneth was the culprit.
He knew damned well, after he and Mattie became close friends and closer than a tick on a dog’s back, who put the clay cock in the locker, how it got there, and who the sculptor was.
David often commented Mattie was a regular Michelangelo.
October was a great month, weather wise, and for our growing relationship. David continued to court me, as he promised, taking me to movies, once in a while out to dinner, concerts on campus, and other campus activities. I think it was his plan to ensure I’d enjoy campus life, the college experience, and him as well. My grades were good and I was happier than I’d been my whole life! He made my college years more enjoyable than most, but it was David who really made them more than just fun.
Homecoming week and weekend was more than I ever thought a college homecoming should be. There were activities all week and although I’m not a “RAH, RAH!” person, rather quiet and somewhat bashful actually, David and I did attend the bonfire and before game prep rally. There were parties all week, mostly for fraternities and sororities, but since I didn’t belong and had no desire to, we did other things. Several alumni groups had “social” hours and since David was not only an alumni, but a rather successful real estate person, we were invited. I drank pop, while he’d have a drink or two and we’d enjoy the company and the buffet bars.
Saturday, game day, was bright, sunny but cool, not a cloud in the sky, and a perfect day for a college football game. The band played, the cheerleaders cheered, the fans roared at touchdowns, and the team played their hearts out. All that was fun, but I was sitting with David, snugged up tight to him, savoring his warmth and the body contact, and stiff as a two by four. I would’ve loved to wrap my arms around him, pull his face to mine, kiss him, and let him hold me even closer. Alas, it was college and although the atmosphere here was fairly liberal, it was still the late 1950’s and overt, public displays of affection between two males was outside the parameters of acceptability. In many areas, it was illegal. David and I knew other “gay” guys, the new term used to designate “homosexual men and boys,” but we kept it to ourselves and our love for each other in the “closet” or at home where we really didn’t give a good rat’s ass! We loved each other and didn’t hesitate to express it at home or with dear, very close friends.
I’d fallen deeply, intensely in love with David Coleman; deeper than I ever thought possible. He had my heart and knew it, treating it with gentleness, care, tenderness, and love, unwilling to do anything which may harm it or me emotionally or physically.
To this day, I couldn’t tell you who we played at that particular homecoming or if we won the game so smitten was I with my handsome boyfriend. We planned grilling out for dinner after the game and Jacob was going to spend the night with Mattie. During the game they sat together with Dr. Tucker and his family and, from I could observe from our seats, it appeared the two of them were enjoying each other’s company immensely. Jacob’s parents were so pleased with the boys’ relationship. They mentioned, during one of our visits, they suspected Jacob was gay and being around us and Mattie seemed to be good for him. We made no secret of our own relationship, but made no comment on Mattie’s sexual orientation, although we both knew he’d never have children, unless the research came up with a way for another male to conceive in the rectum.
David acted with proper decorum with me, cautiously respecting my body, not taking what was not freely offered. He was very cognizant of my first disastrous experience with anal sex and so far, hadn’t proposed it. I was ready, I thought, but every time I saw the monstrosity hanging down from those big balls of his, I wondered how in the hell it’d fit without splitting me asunder!
Lawrence, owner of the real estate office in Waterloo David worked out of, and his wife, Suzan, stopped by the house after the game for a short visit and a cocktail. Frankly, I thought it was an excuse to meet me and that was just fine, since I’d not met them either. The sibling resemblance was immediately noticeable between David and Lawrence. They both had the same handsome faces, trim bodies, about the same height, calm demeanor, and flashing smile. Lawrence’s hair was graying somewhat and according to David, some fifteen years older. Asked to stay for dinner, they begged off since they were on their way to a previous commitment. Before they left, Susan gave me a strong hug, whispering, “You’re good for David. I can see he loves you a great deal.”
Her comments caused my heart to skip with joy and warmed me to my very cockles of my heart causing me to want David even more, if that was possible.
John and June Tucker arrived with two of their four children. Mattie and Jacob arrived about a half hour before the others did. Tucker’s oldest son, Scott, was completing his residency at a hospital in Illinois and was unable to get away. Steve, accompanying their parents, was a senior here at the college and preparing to enter dental school at the University of Iowa in Iowa City the next fall and, Bethany a sophomore and a science major also here at the college, was debating what medical field she might be entering, preferring medical research actually.
I commented on the large proportion of their family preparing to enter the medical field since I understood Jacob made no bones about wanting to be a medical doctor after high school and college.
“My father,” explained Mrs. Tucker, “is a very successful surgeon out East and early in his career, as my siblings and I came along, established an educational trust for his grandchildren. Not only was he very generous, but my children love him dearly.”
“We don’t get out there often as we’d like,” Dr. Tucker added, “but the whole family does get together over Christmas at the place he has in Florida. He spends half of December and the first half of January there, just to escape some of the ice and snow. He’s slowly cutting back on his practice. June was the youngest and Dr. Donnelly is not getting any younger.”
I was prepared to fix cocktails for the group while David prepared the steaks. Beth and Steve immediately offered to help. They were so easy to visit with and after a few minutes I knew I had friends on campus close to my age.
Steve fixed his dad a Gin Martini while Beth found the wine and poured her mother a sweet red.
“It goes well with steak,” she informed me.
I had no idea since alcoholic beverages of any kind were new to me. I did know how to fix David’s Brandy Old Fashioned though. He taught me that shortly after I arrived. Beth also found a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and offered me a glass. I declined but did agree to a small sample since she was going to have some as well. It really wasn’t bad!
The Tucker’s, other than Jacob who remained for his overnight with Mattie, stayed well after dinner visiting around a campfire David built in the brick lined fire pit in the back yard. Lawn chairs and a couple of benches provided the seating while the flickering, dancing flames of the wood fire illuminated us, providing some warmth warding off the chill of the October night. We made “s’mores” constructed of marshmallows roasted over the fire on sticks and placed on half a chocolate candy bar resting on half a graham cracker before smushing it all together with the other half of the cracker. Deliciously sweet, sticky, and messy to eat, but a perfect treat for visiting around a campfire.
It was growing late when they departed and nearing bedtime. Mattie and Jacob decided to take a shower before bed. I needed one as well, but concluded it would be easier and less hassle to wait until they were done before dousing and cleansing myself. I’d assumed they’d each take a separate shower, but how wrong I was. They were young teen boys, laced with burgeoning hormones and curiosity. They shared the shower!
On my way to my room I happened to over hear them in the bathroom. The shower was stopped so I assumed they were drying off. I also figured it was the first time each of them really saw each other bare-assed naked so it might take a while. No need to do “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” since one didn’t shower with clothes on. I heard Jacob say something to Mattie. Mattie murmured a reply and Jacob suddenly sobbed.
Alert something might be wrong, stepping forward, I stopped outside the bathroom door and listened carefully.
“But they hurt you!” Jacob whimpered, clearly distressed, agonizing over something he’d heard or seen concerning Mattie.
I was willing to bet he’d spotted the various scars on Mattie’s back and other areas and probably was just now curious to ask how he got them. The answer wasn’t a pleasant one; an answer David gave me early on and Mattie confirmed later.
“Aw, don’t cry, please Jacob,” Mattie pleaded softly, cooing to his friend. “It just tears my guts out to hear you.”
“But, Mattie….” Jacob began, wanting to express his hurt for his friend.
“Shsss,” Mattie murmured tenderly, “it’s all over now. I’m here with Poppa David, Uncle Levi, and I have you. Nothing bad will happen now!”
It saddened me Mattie had to suffer what he had, but it reassured me he was more than capable of handling it now, even if it meant putting on a false front for the boy he obviously loved. The bathroom door remained closed, I was about to return to my room until I heard them leave when David, without me hearing him, approached me from behind, and whispered over my shoulder and in my ear, “I’m willing to bet Jacob was upset with Mattie’s scars.”
Damn, I wish he wouldn’t do that; whispering soft breaths into my ears. The soft, warm fragrances of each puff, tickles my ears, brings goosebumps to my flesh, fills my nostrils, and makes my cock hard!
“Why don’t you use the shower in my bedroom?” David crooned invitingly. “Let them have some time together while we have ours? Okay?”
My god, do little boys fart in church? Am I about to bust my nuts standing here in the hallway with him breathing in my ear, down my back, and neck? Numbly, I nodded, shivering at the thought of what might or what I wished would happen, would happen. I turned my body slowly, not really wanting to give up the sensations he was producing in me, yet desiring even more, until I was facing David. The smile on his face, the sweetness lingering on his lips, and desire in his eyes, were nothing compared to his finger gently tracing from the back of my neck, across my throat, to up under my chin where he drew little circles before lightly running it across my lips from one side to the other. I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to suck his finger into my mouth.
Swallowing hard, almost gulping aloud, trying to control my emotions and my cock, willing myself to speak, I stuttered, “I have to get my towel, body wash, and other stuff.” For the life of me, I couldn’t think what “other stuff” I needed to take a shower, a bath, or a shit, if you want to know the truth.
“I have plenty, Levi, so you won’t need anything but yourself,” he reassured me, taking my hand and leading me, much like one would lead a mare to a stallion, gently but firmly, to his bedroom. We entered and he closed the door!
I forced my eyes from first his ass as we walked into the room, then from his face, to scan the bedroom, the inner sanctuary known not to me prior to this time, since, honest to Pete, in the two months of residence in his house, this was the first time I’d ever been in David’s bedroom.
It was huge, yet intimate in its furnishings and décor. A brick fireplace against the far, outside wall, a desk with chair, television, a couple of easy chairs with a small table between, on the carpeted floor, and a floor lamp. Windows on one end overlooked the street, a window on either side of the fireplace, and on the other end of the room, a door leading to a very spacious bathroom. The center of my attention, not the fireplace, but the large, king-sized bed! It seemed to be gargantuan compared the bed in my room. There was plenty of “romping room,” as Claire put it when she and Bill acquired a large bed. Well, I hadn’t really romped yet, if you don’t count my disaster with Allen, but I’d really like to give it try, with David, of course.
All I could choke out in comment, was, “Nice room, David!”
He turned me toward him, leaned over slightly, brought his lips to mine, caressed them for a moment before moving to my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, returning to my lips where he tickled them to sweet tenderness with his tongue. I trembled again, and not from fear, but from anticipation.
“Can’t shower with our clothes on, can we?” David asked seductively and began unbuttoning the sport shirt I’d worn during the evening. The last button was low, beneath my belt line and slipping a couple of fingers behind my belt, clasped the shirt, pulled it up slowly until he could reach the errant button and release it. I almost dumped my sticky white load in my shorts when his fingers dallied a little close to the head of my now weeping appendage. Leaning over, he used his tongue to tickle my exposed belly button.
“Oh, god!” I inhaled sucking my stomach muscles into a tenseness, pulling my abdomen back in reflex.
His tongue and lips migrated north, tracking up my bare upper torso, seeming to taste, kiss, and delight me each time they touched my bare, sensitive skin, raising those little goosebumps evidencing the erogenous sensations he was creating. His nose dipped into the slight bowl created when I pulled my tummy back and moved from the right side to the left side of my abdomen. I found it impossible to relax those muscles until his tongue and lips found my right nipple, washing it with his tongue before he sucked on it.
I just about collapsed!
Those talented lips and tongue, after paying homage to my right nipple, moved to my left for a repeat performance, my knees growing weaker and weaker, hoping I could remain upright until it was shower time!
David’s lips engaged mine and, rather than pull me closer, I felt his hands unbuckle my jeans and slide them down to my knees. Mr. Happy poked out the fly of my boxers either to take the air or investigate what was happening outside his confines and jumped in surprise and glee as David’s tongue delicately lapped at the swollen head.
“I’ll cum if you do that again,” I announced, trying to stave off an orgasm.
“Wouldn’t want that yet,” David responded picking me up and setting me on the edge of his bed. Shoes, socks, jeans, and undershorts came off leaving me quite naked and vulnerable I thought. I didn’t have the opportunity to comment on it, cover my crotch, or even worry about the consequences because David ran his hands softly, slowly from my toes, up my legs, bypassed the little soldier, now standing at attention bobbing up and down as it witnessed the progress up my body. David, finishing the worship of the lower part of my body, captured my head in his hands.
“Levi Moore, you are the most beautiful man ever created, putting to shame those immortalized in stone by history’s most talented sculptors or committed to canvas by the Michelangelo’s of the world.” He kissed me, long and deep, our tongues painting murals of our own on the insides of each other’s mouths.
I reached forward to his shirt and he carefully took my hand in his. “This is all about you, Levi, my expressing my love for you,” and quickly disrobed.
His shirt came off, his pants, and there IT was- in its stiff, upright, smooth, long, thick, uncut magnificence, the part of him declaring him male! The foreskin was retracted and engaged behind the heart-shaped head of his penis, now flushed and swollen, giving evidence of his sexual desire.
Reaching for it, David again moved my hand. “Not yet; first our shower.” One of his hands clasping one of mine, he lifted me from the bed. With one arm around my waist, his hand on my bare butt, drawing little circles with a finger just above, with an occasional dip into the crevice separating my pert butt cheeks, causing me to tingle all over and my pucker to twitch.
Leading me into the bathroom, his stiffness pointing as a compass would toward the north, a bathroom quite large with not only a tub for soaking, but a glass fronted shower stall large enough for at least two. Standing me on a soft, plushy bath mat, David released me so he could lean in to turn the shower on and adjust the temperature. I couldn’t help but notice and admire the muscles in his butt cheeks flex as he did so, wondering of the thrusting power of such beauty.
Towels, washcloths, shampoo, and body wash were carefully conveniently placed where he could access them giving every indication to me, he’d planned this prior to our encounter in the hall. Duh! Again, placing an arm about my waist, giving me another kiss, he guided me into the shower and under the cascading water from the shower head.
“First your hair,” he announced. “Levi, please close your eyes, although the shampoo shouldn’t make any difference.”
Facing away from him, the water drenching my face and head, with one hand he tilted my head back slightly, and with the other applied a dollop of shampoo. David’s hands then began to work and massage the delightfully fragrant cleanser into my hair and on my scalp, his fingers working sudsy, foamy, viscous liquescent material through and around my hair, gently rubbing, soothing me, lulling me in the most relaxing but erotic way. I swear, I couldn’t have been any stiffer! Not all of me, but one very significant part!
With one hand now free from my head, David turned me so my back was toward him. He continued kneading the shampoo into my hair and on my scalp. Leaning back against him, my head tilted slightly so the water from the shower flushed my face and the sudsy cleansing shampoo from my head, I almost purred like a kitten with its tummy full from nursing on mother’s teat, cooing, “It feels so wonderful, David. I’ve never had anyone shampoo or wash my hair.”
“Even as a small child?”
“No, I can’t recall anyone other than me doing it.”
“Not even you mother?”
His question caused me to think deeply, trying to dredge up any memories with which to answer it. The only conclusion I could draw from my memory was in the negative.
“She must have, but my memory only consists of being handed a washcloth and towel after my bath was drawn with the instructions to not to forget to scrub behind my ears and other places.”
“Well,” announced David his voice carrying a lilt of pleasure and anticipation, “we’re going to do those parts now.”
Frankly, I thought he’d already started, his large stiffness was sort of resting (and rubbing) in the crack of my ass. I imagined, as it slid up and down as he moved it appeared not unlike a rather large summer sausage in a small hot dog bun.
If I thought, for one minute, shampooing my hair was erotic and pleasurable, it didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell to David’s careful, methodical, but gentle, washing of my body. His hands, well lubricated with body wash, spread and slicked the slippery viscous liquid up and down my front, gliding, sliding, slipping, touching every single inch, it seemed, from my chin down, tweaking my nipples with his fingertips, running from one side of my tummy to the other, pausing in their journey to pay temporary attention to my navel, before coasting south, skimming my pubic bush, tobogganing onto my upright shaft ministering an up and down gripping motion, then slithering beneath to carefully, lovingly cup and cleanse my quivering testicles, finally glissading down my legs.
David’s magical hands didn’t cease their activities; no, they veered to the back, my calves, skillfully drifting up to encounter my tensed butt, where one cheek was cradled while the other was bathed, switching to the other, before judicious care was taken to my cleft and the puckered, muscled entrance to my inner self.
Up my back those marvelous digits flowed, finally reaching my shoulders where he finished before letting the cascading waters from the shower head to rinse me squeaky clean.
David refused my offer to minister to his shower, staying me with a kiss. He cleaned himself rather quickly, commenting he was concerned I would chill or become wrinkled like a prune. There was no danger of that happening to a certain part of my body since it was pumped full of hormonal driven blood and sex induced muscle power.
Guiding me from the shower, one hand on my butt, the other resting just above my pubic bush, David methodically, gently, and thoroughly dried the moisture from my skin and my hair before brushing my hair, laying it to rest. Keeping his warm hand resting on my butt, guiding me to his bedroom and bid me to lay down on the king-sized bed. Joining me there, he drew me closer, our naked bodies in close contact, erections touching. He kissed me, his arms around me, continuing to press us together, I felt his large, thick cock reach from the base of mine to my belly button and a little more.
His marvelous protuberance was a delight to have against me and reachable. I carefully wrapped one hand around it, just below the head, and discovered my middle finger and thumb wouldn’t touch.
“Oh, my god!” I murmured, wondering how it would fit someday where I so desired it. My attention was quickly diverted when a hand gently gripped my cock, a finger slipping lightly over the oozing head, while David shifted his body so his head was now near my crotch.
Warm, moist lips slowly engulfed my erection, a tongue tickled the tip, the glans, and the ridges of my small helmet before beginning a slow, bobbing up and down the entire length, masturbating me with his mouth and tongue rather than his hand. This was not just a blowjob, it was the loving attention of a man who truly loved me and wanted to express it, bringing pleasure to me, and satisfaction to him. He’d bring me to the edge, then back, and to the edge again before intensifying his actions.
I didn’t last long!
My testicles began to pull up, I started to make small thrusts, and the collected storage of semen I so desperately wanted to release began propelling up my urethra, spewing in strings of thick, viscous liquid into David’s mouth. My whole body shook, so intense was my pleasure. Never had I experienced such an ardent, all-consuming, powerful orgasm! Of course, I’d never had a fellatio performed on me like this either. This was a first, but I vowed not the last.
David withdrew, turned again, and kissed me, sharing my essence mixed with his saliva, so I could savor the mixing of him and me. How I loved this man; he’s my heart, my soul, my very being!
As much as I desired to do him, I found I was suddenly, inexplicably, exhausted. I barely had time to apologize to David failing to return the pleasure. I heard David say, “Some other time; now sleep, my love.”
Snuggling back against his warmth, his front resting up against my back, his arms around me, holding me close, and something hot, long, and twitching resting up against my spine, I sighed in complete contentment, sleeping secure until morning. It’d been a wonderful, remarkable, life-defining and affirming night.
David helped me move my things into “our” room in the afternoon. Once settled in, we announced to Mattie and Jacob, since he was staying the night again, we were officially a couple. No comments were made by either, other than one “Yes!” from Mattie. Jacob merely smiled shyly and looked doe-eyed at Mattie who reached around and pulled his boyfriend close, giving him a light kiss on the forehead.
It took three days, actually three nights, before David relented and I, with great pleasure and some trepidation, returned my love by taking him in my mouth as he did me. Well, not exactly since he was much longer and thicker, so I could only work about half of his penis in my oral cavity, but between my hot lips and active tongue and my hand, I pleasured him. He really produces a lot of ejaculate!
Halloween was exciting, fun, and relatively new to me! It was a night and day my family didn’t acknowledge since it was, according to my father, “a pagan celebration.” It may be, but I’d never participated in it and those who did come to our door were delivered of a brief sermon concerning the errors of their ways and devil worship. Hence, when the night came, I was about giddy with excitement. Jacob joined us for the evening (Saturday), helping Mattie answer the door and hand out treats to the multitude of pirates, Cinderella’s, and considerable assortments of spooks, hobgoblins, and hobos. I couldn’t resist but going to the door with them to receive the costumed young people.
I thought Mattie and Jacob might dress up themselves in order to hand out the treats, but they didn’t. I mentioned it to David as the hours allotted were drawing to a close. He responded, “Mattie says he was scared half-shitless so much, he didn’t want to subject someone else to it!”
Made sense to me!
Halloween was a real treat for me and I didn’t have to do a trick, just ask.
David simply returned with a question of his own. “Are you certain?”
“Yes!” I answered, snuggling my naked body up to his.
“There might be some pain, especially the first time.”
It wasn’t my first time, but that time really didn’t count. It was more “taken” rather than given and this time I was giving myself, thus, I just nodded, wondering he meant instead, the “first time with him.” It gave me every encouragement to believe there’d be more times, if I enjoyed this “first time.”
I’d wanted this ever since the first time he took me to his bed and I marveled at his attentions to me and the wondrously, large, hard, velvety soft cock of his thumping up against me as he ministered to my pleasures. Now, I wanted him to claim me completely as only I desired and thought he could. I realized there are gay couples who never have or desired anal intercourse for whatever reasons and I was fine with their choice, but I wanted to know for myself what anal intercourse was like and decide for myself.
David was so patient preparing me in the most gently, thoughtful, and thorough manner, opening me to receive him. Plenty of lubricant was spread around and inside my entrance and liberally up and down his hard shaft.
“We’re going to try it first with you on your elbows and knees with your butt slightly elevated. I’ll kneel behind you between your legs and enter carefully.”
“You mean ‘doggy-style?”
“Yes, although there are many couples who use this position exclusively and not the missionary position with you on your back and us face to face. It is a position not used in some of the less developed parts of the world. I don’t think I’ll accidentally penetrate too deeply,” he explained as he slipped a pillow under me for my head to rest on.
David knelt between my legs, spread my small butt cheeks with his hands, and placed his penis at the wrinkled, puckered, tight opening to my insides. I felt him push, gently probing my anus.
“Relax,” he advised, “and push back as if you were taking a shit.”
I did as he instructed, he gave a harder push, and the large head of his cock popped in through my anal ring, and it clamped around it. Muffling a cry from the initial pain of penetration, I took a deep, really deep breath, and waited. It was only a moment until the pain left and there was only a minor discomfort.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned he’d hurt me.
“I’ll go slowly. Stop me anytime you feel pain or want me to pull out.”
I could feel him begin to slowly sink deeper as he took slow, gentle, short fucks into me.
“How do you feel, Levi?”
David leaned over me, his chest resting on my back, one of his hands encircling my own stiffness, his chin on my shoulder, his face next to mine, kissing my neck, and then my mouth when I twisted my head to engage his lips. His love making was tender, not rushed, yet erotically stimulating. I felt his penis swell even more inside me, as he began spilling his hot, abundant seed inside me. He pumped my cock faster until I orgasmed, spewing my own thick semen onto the sheet beneath me!
I could feel his cock swell and subside with each ejaculation. David produces much more semen than I do and I could feel it seeping out around his thick plug and drip down my ball sack to join my offering on the sheet. I eased myself down on the bed, knowing I would coat myself with what we’d spewed on it, but it allowed David to languish on top of me as we both experienced a delightful post-coital bliss.
His cock twitched a couple of times inside me, but didn’t soften!
“I wasn’t certain if I could take all of you,” I murmured happily.
“Yeah,” David affirmed, “at least most of me,” and chuckled softly.
I woke once during the night, my back to David’s front and felt his cock begin to swell inside of me. He hadn’t withdrawn and apparently was preparing for another round, which was fine with me. I was well lubricated with left over lotion and his semen, so I sort of leaned forward, raised my leg to give him better access, and enjoyed another opportunity to make love to him. It was something our entire time together I never begged off on or missed the opportunity. I loved him so much, how could I? Besides, I love it. There was more than one way to make love I discovered in our many years together. David was inventive, gentle, and adept at pleasing me.
I sighed, it was time for me to go to bed. The next day was to be busy, but I couldn’t help but sadly miss him, my life, my partner, my mate. A couple of tears slipped down my cheeks as I disrobed, picked up his picture, and kissed it (and him) goodnight. It was placed so his face was the last thing I saw at night and the first thing in the morning.
Fourth of July morning broke as bright and as sunny as anyone could ever hope for. I couldn’t believe how delightfully pleasant the weather had been during the boy’s stay here. If the weather prognosticators were correct, the phenomenal weather was to continue for the next week until after they left for Iowa. It was just fine with me.
It was early, real early, the sun just breaking over the trees and reflecting on the lake. The wind was calm, the lake almost empty of craft plying up and down its length, and the temperature of the water and the air just screamed, “come for a swim.” I finished my cup of coffee, slipped on a pair of sandals, and wearing only my robe, walked down to the dock, shucked off the robe, and slid into the water. It was cool, but delightful. Many times, since we moved here after David’s father passed away, I have been so thankful for the cooling and relaxing effects of this lake. It gave me the chance to sort of “regroup,” if you know what I mean.
The boys and I would enjoy today’s celebrations held in Crosby as well as the carnivals in both Crosby and Brainerd, finishing with fireworks here on our own lake. Donations were sought each year to provide them and the volunteer fire department shot them off from the township park near the boat landing. It was great fun and I usually watched it from my boat on the lake.
My only regret, this year, was Mattie, now retired from his law practice and Jacob now retired from his medical practice, weren’t here to meet Elgee and his fiancé, Rick, along with Rick’s brothers, Ray and Carl. Mattie and Jacob were visiting sons and grandchildren and other relatives in Iowa celebrating the Fourth there.
Their two sons were biological half-brothers, different fathers but same mother. Mattie and Jacob provided the semen for artificial insemination so each would be the father to one of their children. It’d decrease any legal custodial parent problems and did. It was expensive, but mission accomplished. I was so proud of both Mattie and Jacob. They’ve done well over the years. Not only that, but their sons proved to be randy as hell and have provided them with plenty of grandchildren.
Mattie and Jacob live in a large lake-side home down the lake a ways from me. Usually they stopped in once a week or more to visit with me and I try to get up there often as well. They are close enough to give me a hand whenever I need it. Strange as it may seem, they both still seem to consider Spirit View Farm as home.
I was so involved in my thoughts, I failed to hear the light splash of someone entering the water. A naked set of young boy legs wrapped around my waist and a naked crotch with a young cock and balls pressed up against my midriff while young brown arms encircled my neck.
“Morning, Uncle Levi,” giggled Ray. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”
He certainly did. I gave him a hug, wished him a good morning in return, and he slid down my body into the water. We swam just a bit before we were joined by Elgee and shortly thereafter, Rick. My god, that boy is hung!
Suddenly, a dash of nostalgia hit me! This was so reminiscent of the mornings David and I spent swimming with Mattie and Jacob.
Ray, Rick, Elgee, and I didn’t say much, just sort of floated around naked in the water. Soon it was time for me to get out and fix breakfast for my boys. Ray decided to join me. Walking up to the house, he asked,
“Do you ever think I’ll be as big as Rick?”
I leaned over, took a good look at his equipment, and nodded my head. “No doubt you’re on your way already. Could be you’d just might someday be a bit longer and sink the old cork a little deeper.”
He just beamed! Nothing like stroking a young boy’s ego, complimenting him on his growing cock size. It inflates his ego and reassures him all is well in that department.
A couple of soft-side coolers were packed with ice, bottled water, and soda and a small zippered pouch containing sunscreen and insect repellent were packed in the car as we headed for Crosby and the annual Fourth of July Parade and celebration. We traveled Highway 6, skirting Serpent Lake and entered the town from the east, drove past the clinic, located a parking place near the downtown, walked a couple of blocks, and sat down on the curb to await the parade.
The crowd was huge, as always, enthusiastic and appreciative as the parade, with the national colors and the high school band leading the way. There were a great many floats or units in the parade as well as assorted politicians. The boys were busy stuffing their pockets with candy until they decided they had enough. It took an hour or so for the entire parade to pass by us.
Great parade, great community, and great people!
Parade over, we found a local food stand located under a tent with places to sit for lunch. They were serving grilled chicken with all of the fixing’s. It filled my crew quite adequately, much to my surprise. There’s always plenty to eat.
We headed toward the carnival to wander the midway and check out the rides. Elgee was the first to spot it!
“Hey, look!” he shouted to the rest of us. “A popcorn wagon named ‘Popper 2!’”
Indeed it was! Emblazoned on the sides in large letters, “Popper 2” extolled “The World’s Best Carmel Corn” and “Kettle Corn, just like Grandpa used to make,” and “Fluffy, White Melt-in-your Mouth Fresh From the Popper, Popcorn.”
“I didn’t know there were two?” he asked, excited at the find.
“Yep! In fact there are three of them.”
“But I thought you said Auntie Claire’s brother owned it?”
“He did, but we bought him out,” I explained, as I stepped up to buy corn for the boys.
“Hi, Uncle Levi,” one of the workers shouted out at me.
“Hi, yourself, Jonathon. Having a good summer?”
“You bet! Better than last year so far.”
From the corner of my eye I watched Ray and Carl scrutinizing the small logo painted on a lower corner of the wagon, announcing the owner of the wagon. It read simply, “Coleman Enterprises, LLC.”
They made a beeline for me.
“So,” Ray began, “if you bought Claire’s cousin out, when did you do it?”
“That’s a story for another time,” I announced.
Their eyes, all four pair, betrayed the questions fermenting in their young minds. I knew it’d be difficult to postpone the portion of my life’s story, but I wanted to tell it when the location and timing was better. It wasn’t a portion which would be appreciated if spoken in a very public setting such at the carnival grounds. I was attempting to chronicle my life to Elgee, my great-nephew, so he and Rick would have some familial heritage and roots other than his experiences growing up in a right-wing religious homophobic household. He deserved more!
David and I made the decision to include one of our “Popper” wagons at the Fourth of July celebration in Crosby shortly after we returned to live permanently at Spirit View Farm.
The carnival isn’t a particularly big one, but provides the additional entertainment and added festivities to celebrate our National Birthday, but people enjoy it. Mid-afternoon found us in Brainerd seeking out the activities there. By four o’clock we were headed home, after purchasing four bake at home deep dish pizza’s for an early supper.
We ate on the porch; Elgee and Rick manned the ovens and kept the pizza’s coming until we’d devoured all four. Well, I only had a couple of slices (maybe three) but the others certainly enjoyed them to the max.
“What’s for dessert?” Ray asked as he wiped his lips.
His tummy was as round as a volleyball, so I didn’t see how he could hold anymore.
“How about ice-cold watermelon? Watermelon so sweet and juicy each piece drips it’s pinkish liquid from your chin, down your hands to your elbows and onto the ground; so cold, your teeth hurt on the first bite, and so abundant, you’d swear you’re standing in a forty acre patch south of Muscatine.”
“So, where?” Carl chimed in, evidently not so full he couldn’t partake of some melon.
“Now, if you like. We’ll take the ski boat across the lake, but first we need to fill a cooler with water and soda since we’ll just stay on the lake for fireworks.”
Music emanating from a country-western band floated out across the lake as we motored over. The closer we got, the music and sounds of revelry were growing louder; not “disturbing the peace” louder, but of a fun-loving crowd enjoying themselves. I did know “Spooner’s” applied and received a special permit for the Fourth of July Celebration since they’d set up a couple of bars outside under a big tent and had music out-of-doors. I could hear a banjo and a fiddle, predominately, with a couple of guys singing as I approached the very crowded dock. The rest of the band would be a string bass, guitar, and maybe a mandolin.
Tom (Spooner) Long was originally from the hill country of Southeast Iowa while Mike Harris haled from the highlands of South Carolina. Each Fourth, they brought together like individuals with whom they enjoyed playing with and entertained the guests at “Spooner’s.”
I idled the boat motor while we sought a place to moor up. It appeared at first glance, there’d be no place except to tie up to the shore as other’s had with their craft. As luck would have it, Rick spotted an open berth on the other side of a large pontoon and I quickly maneuvered my boat into the slot and we tied up.
From out vantage point, we could see the large crowd overflowing out onto the deck.
“What if there’s no room inside?” asked Ray.
“What if they’re out of watermelon?” groaned Carl.
“Not to worry,” I reassured them. “Most of the action will take place under the big white tent set up in the parking lot. There’ll be cars and trucks parked on both sides of the road for a couple of miles.”
Indeed, “Spooner’s” was packed inside and when we rounded the corner of the building, the big tent was almost as bad. Tom and Mike, along with their colleagues were on the stage at one end of the tent just a playing and singing to their heart’s content and the enjoyment of the audience, some of whom tried to dance in whatever space they could. Tom was on the banjo and Mike on the fiddle singing. Two long tables in front of livestock tanks full of water, cooled by large blocks of ice, and floating with big, juicy watermelon bobbing up and down invitingly. The tables were manned by, perhaps, a dozen young men and women cutting up melons and handing out slices.
“My god,” yelped Elgee with excitement, “would you look at the watermelons.”
“Yeah, and see the big sign, Ray!” Carl warned, “it says “NO SEED SPITTING!”
There were extra waiters serving food to those seated at tables and two big portable bars at the end of the tent where four bartenders were mixing and serving drinks and tap beer. Wandering around with extra garbage bags and emptying containers were a half-dozen college age men and women helping with the cleanup. Tom and Mike also hired several security guards just to help keep the peace. This party would go on long after the melons were gone and would finally shut down when bar closing hour came.
The music was fantastic and well appreciated, the watermelon ice cold, and while Carl and Ray were going back for seconds and thirds of the fleshy, watery treat, Elgee and Rick danced- and dance they did! They spotted Bruce and Chad, who visited with them and watched. No matter how much they desired to join in, they were very hesitant, not willing to come out at this time. Either way, the four of them were having a great time and busy planning for the next day when Chad and Bruce would be over to ski and enjoy the food we were planning on having.
During one particular number the band was playing, not exactly slow, yet not really fast, if half the crowd didn’t have a hard-on from watching Rick and Elgee dance, they were either drunk or dead, toes cocked-up as Mother Coleman would say. Rick danced up to Elgee, arms outspread but not embracing him, and began grinding his crotch up against Elgee’s, both moving with the music. Elgee returned the gyrations, leaning his face to Rick, allowing him to nuzzle his neck, gently but insistently thrusting his crotch up to Rick’s.
I glanced up to the stage; Tom and Mike noticed the couple, and gave me a grin and thumbs up when I winked my approval.
It was finally time for us to leave, travel up the lake, find an anchorage, and settle back to watch the fireworks display. Flicking on my red and green running lights, there was still enough light to navigate to a position out in the lake where we could watch and enjoy the display without endangering ourselves. I used my depth finder’s sonar to locate the underwater gravel bar where I could drop anchor and secure our position. The water was about ten foot deep here so I had Rick drop the front anchor and I allowed the boat to swing so we were broadside to where the fireworks would be detonated and dropped the rear anchor. There was enough of a breeze to give a slight rocking to the boat. We settled back on the seats or on the bottom of the boat to enjoy the fireworks. When it started, the rockets launched into the air weren’t the only rocket being launched in the dark.