By Mickey S

If you are under age, or live in an area where reading stories that include sex between males is illegal, or if you're not into this type of story, please leave. This is a fictional story and all characters and events are a figment of the author's imagination. My thanks to Tim and Drew for all of their help. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at NJMcMick@yahoo.com.

 

Chapter 17

As much as we would have preferred to stay in bed, Declan and I got up, threw on our clothes and went downstairs to greet Dad. We found him sitting at the kitchen table sipping a glass of Jack Daniels.

"Didn't Uncle Frank offer you an after dinner drink?"

"Sure, but now I feel like a nightcap, if that's all right with you."

"It's up to you." I shrugged. "But Declan and I were just about to have dessert and I'm not sure whiskey goes well with blackberry cobbler and vanilla ice cream."

"Jack goes well with anything. You mean you're actually gonna let me have some of that cobbler?"

I'd picked blackberries down by the stream the morning before and made my mother's cobbler in the evening. But I'd wanted to save it for Declan, so Dad was pissed I hadn't offered him any when it was done.

"I told you last night we were going to have it today. Besides, it wasn't done until you were going to bed."

"You gonna clean up that mess in the dining room? I'd help but your mother never let me handle her good stuff - she was afraid I'd drop something and break it."

"Yeah, I know how much you used to help her around the house." In Dad's world he'd do just about anything outside on the farm, but if it was inside the house it was Mom's job.

"Why don't I get to work on clean-up while you get out the dessert?" Declan jumped in trying to play peace-maker.

"Thanks, babe." I deliberately used the word 'babe' to see what Dad's reaction would be. He flinched but said nothing.

Dad was remarkably civil the rest of the evening. Not that it mattered to me. I was completely wrapped up in Declan. After the three of us had dessert in the kitchen, Dad went into the living room to watch the ball game and Declan and I cleaned up. I relished the domestic bliss of it all. We worked well as a team but somehow managed to bump into each other a lot, sharing kisses and a grope here and there.

Afterward, we took the dogs for a walk up through the orchard, holding hands as we strolled. I couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to end every day like this.

We made love again before going to sleep. There was less foreplay this time, but again I topped Declan. I asked him if he wanted to switch but apparently he'd been telling the truth when he said he liked to bottom.

In the morning my internal alarm clock woke me up at five. Declan was sound asleep so I kissed him lightly on the cheek and slipped out of bed. When I came back from the barn an hour later Dad was in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee.

"Is lover-boy still in bed?"

"He's not used to farm hours and there was no need to wake him. And there's no need for you to be sarcastic, either. In case you've forgotten, you like Declan."

"Of course I like him. Why else do you think I arranged to go to Frank and Mary's yesterday? I heard you two talking on the porch the other night and figured you could use some time alone. And do I even get a 'thank you' for my consideration?"

"You're right, Dad. I do appreciate you giving us some time to ourselves. It was nice to have a romantic dinner with Declan. And afterwards, well ..."

"You can stop right there. Just because I like your boyfriend doesn't mean I want to hear or even think about what goes on up there between the two of you."

"Don't worry, there's no way I'm going to share that with anyone. If nothing else, my old job taught me discretion."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"I'll fix your breakfast after I get Declan up, if you can wait a few minutes."

"A few minutes, huh? Why do I have a feeling that breakfast could turn into lunch?"

I took it as a good sign that Dad was reacting to my new sex life with the same degree of crankiness that he showed toward everything else.

And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Once I got upstairs any hope of an early breakfast flew out the window. I walked into the bedroom and Declan was lying on his back, one arm over his head, the other resting on his abdomen. The sheet was only covering his lower half, starting an inch or two above his pubes. I could have just stared at that beautiful sight all morning, but he was just too tempting to leave alone.

I tiptoed across the room and very, very gently eased the sheet off him, making the sight even more appealing. He was about halfway to a morning woodie. I knew it wouldn't take long for me to make it fully erect. I knelt on the floor next to the bed and leaned over him, running the tip of my tongue over his dick. As it rose to full staff I put my mouth over the head and sucked it in, gradually swallowing the whole thing. Soon it was clear that Declan was awake, as he started moaning and I felt his hand on the back of my head, not exactly pushing me down on his rod, but holding me in place as I bobbed. I slurped away on his lollipop, enjoying the taste and feel of it in my mouth. While it had the makings of an all-day sucker, Declan wasn't in the mood to hold back, so in just a few minutes he began to breathe harder and I could feel him tensing up. As he began to shoot I pulled off  until just the head was in my mouth. From the volume of cum you wouldn't think he'd come twice the night before.

When he'd finished unloading into me I moved up to kiss him. He turned his head away, mumbling, "Morning breath."

"And I've got cum breath. They should cancel each other out."

Actually, I had more than cum breath. More than a few drops of his semen was still swirling around in my mouth. As I kissed him, I shared it with him.

"Is that what I taste like?" he asked as I pulled away.

"You never tasted your own cum before?"

"Never occurred to me to. You've tasted yours?"

"Not that I make a practice of it, but sure. Once I realized that every guy had his own special taste I wondered what mine was like."

"I guess there are lots of things you've done that I haven't."

"Don't go there, Declan. I thought we'd agreed that we each have had lots of different kinds of experiences and were going to leave it at that."

"You're right. I wasn't trying to imply anything. I'll try not to pry into your past but you've got to try to be less sensitive about it."

"And you're right, too. I guess I'm still having trouble believing you can look past my old career. I'm an incredibly lucky guy."

"Some people would say I'm the lucky one, having a pro in my bed, sharing his expertise with me." He grinned. "Not that I'm prying, understand?"

"Don't worry, I recognize teasing when I see it and don't mind. As long as you don't mind my occasional crack about pussy."  

I felt a little guilty as we went downstairs. Dad must have known what we'd been doing that kept us upstairs so long and that made me uncomfortable. Fortunately, I could see his oxygen tube heading out the front door so that meant he was on the porch. Declan and I quietly slipped into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast. When we were ready to eat I called Dad in to join us. He didn't say anything about the delay, but was annoyed when I mentioned that Declan was going to spend the day.

"You're taking the day off from work? The corn's not gonna harvest itself, you know."

"Don't worry about it, Dad. I'll admit I was a little concerned that I wouldn't be able to handle the harvest by myself, but I'm actually running a little ahead of schedule."

"You're sure of that?"

"Yeah, don't forget that you only planted as much as you thought you could handle yourself. And while you weren't expecting a couple of major heart attacks, you knew you were slowing down. I may not be anywhere near as experienced as you but I'm stronger and can work longer hours, so I think I'm doing okay."

"What about the alfalfa?"

"That won't be ready for a few more weeks, so there's no point in getting too far ahead with the corn."

"Don't forget you've got the orchard and the garden to do as well."

I looked at Declan and rolled my eyes. He grinned back.

"I know, Dad. Most of the veggies have been picked and canned already. It's mostly just pickles and squash left now. And as far as the orchard goes, anything I pick there will be more than you've been doing the last couple of years."

"I'll have to use the scooter to take a ride around. If I can't do any work I can at least give you some advice."

"I'm sure you can, Dad," I said, rolling my eyes again.

After we'd cleaned up from breakfast Declan and I took the dogs out.

"I didn't realize we were going to spend the day together. Do you have anything in particular in mind?"

"No, I hadn't planned on anything, I just wanted to spend some more time with you. You didn't have other plans, did you?" I hastened to add.

"I usually drop in on my folks at some point over the weekend but that's not a specific appointment. I can stop by to see them on my way home this evening if it's not too late. For now I'd much rather be here with you."

"I'm glad we're on the same page. So, what would you like to do? I've gotta warn you, though, unless you're working there's not much to do on a farm."

"We could go over to the barn and have a roll in the hay. That doesn't sound like work."

"No, but it's not as comfortable as it's cracked up to be. Not that I've had sex in the barn, but I do know that hay can be pretty scratchy."

"That's okay, I think I prefer a bed anyway. Besides, it would be just our luck for Sam to scoot by on his inspection tour at just the wrong moment."

"Yeah, I think I'd prefer we keep a flight of stairs between Dad and any sexual activity we have."

"Hmm, maybe we can try the loft sometime, with a thick quilt between our skin and the hay."

"That sounds like a plan. I'll keep that in mind and surprise you sometime. But what about now? Any non-sexual ideas?"

"How about you show me some light chores we can do together this morning. That would make me feel less guilty that I'm taking you away from your work, and maybe keep me on Sam's good side."

"Yeah, at least he likes one of us. Let`s try to keep it that way."

So we spent the rest of the morning taking care of some of the little things - cleaning out the hen house and the yard around it, mowing the lawn around the house, straightening up the barn. Dad seemed pleased, so it looked like Declan had made a good choice.

After lunch, though, we took the dogs for a long walk. For a while, we didn't talk. It was comfortable just being together. I had an urge to hold hands, but we were out on a public road and Declan hadn't come out to his family yet. I wanted to ask him about that but didn't want to appear to be putting any pressure on him. Before I could think of a way to bring it up, he started talking.

"I don't want to keep bringing up your past, Silas, and you must know by now I have no problem with it, but I've been wondering about something. You've spent most of your life fulfilling other guys' fantasies. You said in part that fit your personality because you didn't know what you wanted out of life so it was easier to let others decide. But, while I can understand you dithering about a long term career, which you finally seem to have settled on, I'd think you would have a pretty good idea of what you liked to do in bed."

"Of course I do. There are lots of sexual activities I like. I had a great time last night and this morning. What's the matter, didn't you like what we did?"

I'd been feeling great that even though we'd built our first sexual experience up into such a big deal we seemed to have come through it okay, much more than okay, actually. But now I was getting concerned.

"Obviously I loved everything we did, too. Please don't start to worry about that. But even though you were the top and I was the bottom, I was the one calling the shots, so to speak. I had a great time partly because we were doing what I wanted. But I think it's important that we also do what you want. This is about you as much as it's about me. And I think that maybe you're not used to things being like that."

"You're right. I always knew in advance what dates entailed. And the extent of my input was that I turned down dates if I knew they were going to include activities I didn't want to do."

"And that's just negative input. But I want you to know that this is an equal relationship we have going here. At least, that's what I want it to be. So if there's something you want to do, you've gotta tell me. Don't spend all of your time and energy trying to please me. Keep in mind that I want to please you just as much."

This was definitely new territory for me. None of my professional dates, even the nicest of the guys, had really cared what I felt about what we did. There was none of that 'Was it good for you?' concern coming from them, except when I was expected to rave about their performance. And the few brief personal relationships I'd had hadn't lasted long enough to get beyond shallow first impressions. Now, after all these years, someone finally cared about what I wanted. And it wasn't just anyone who cared, it was Declan, the guy I'd been dreaming about for as long as I could remember.

"Are you okay, Silas? I didn't say anything wrong, did I?"

"No, not at all. My mind just wandered a bit." Maybe a little more than I'd realized, based on the look of concern on Declan's face. "I guess I'm not used to being asked what I want. I'm not really sure what to say."

"Well, think about it. You must have some fantasy, some hot scene that runs through your mind now and then, something that turns you on just thinking about it, something you've always wanted to do but have never had the chance."

I suddenly realized what my fantasy was, and laughed out loud.

"I wasn't expecting laughter, but maybe you've thought of something?"

"Yeah, but you're not going to believe what my fantasy has been for years. It involves you and we came very close to it last night."

I told him about my high school memory of his ass and how I'd always had an urge to bury my face in it, even before I knew what rimming was. And how that memory and urge had served me well on dates when my client wasn't very exciting himself.

"You should owe me part of your fee from those dates."

"I'll let you take it in trade if you want, as long as I get to fulfill my fantasy."

"I don't think that will be a problem." He grinned. "But I think we pretty much did all that last night."

"Sure, we did some great mutual rimming, but my fantasy is a little different. Last night I attacked by starting in front and moving between your legs to your hot little hole. My fantasy involves approaching from the rear, being able to take in the full beauty of your firm, little white cheeks, then spreading them and diving in."

"So you want the same end result but a different approach?" He hesitated for a second. "I suppose we could do that, if that's what you want."

"Maybe next weekend?"

"Whenever you want, babe."

As we headed back to the house Declan got quiet again, but it didn't seem to be quite the same as the comfortable silence the walk had started with. I had the feeling something was bothering him, but when I asked he smiled and said he was thinking about my fantasy.

"I hope you don't mind sharing it, that is, if I think of it as one of my own fantasies as well as yours. It's hard not to fantasize about being rimmed by a tongue as talented as yours."

"Not at all. I'll just think of it as a twofer."

He gave me a puzzled look but I wasn't about to explain.

That evening after Declan and the dogs had gone to see his parents, I took a snifter of brandy out to the porch to rerun the weekend in my mind. It had gone even better than I'd hoped. Although we hadn't tried everything we might in bed, so far we were totally compatible. And that carried over out of bed as well. There was none of the awkwardness that could come following new sexual intimacy. Declan had occasionally seemed a bit distracted in the afternoon after I'd told him about my fantasy, but as he'd agreed it was one of his fantasies as well, I wasn't worried. Things were going just fine.

My reflection was interrupted when Dad came out onto the porch. He hung his oxygen cannula on the door knob, walked over to the chair next to me and set his glass of Jack Daniels down as he sat and lit a cigarette. He took a few drags before he said anything.  

"Your sister called while you were out walking this afternoon."

"Really, what did she want?" I'd been wondering all week if she'd called. Dad hadn't said anything, but that didn't mean she hadn't.

"Just called to see how I was doing, or so she said. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

"Me? I'm not one of her favorite people ever since I shipped Teddy back to her."

"Yeah, well, I don't seem to be high on her list of favorites, either. I was just wondering why she decided to call after all this time."

"Maybe she was feeling guilty for, uh ..." I trailed off, having started the sentence without thinking and not knowing how to finish it without making it look like I was criticizing her.

"Not her fault her son's a jerk, not entirely, anyway. You've got to give some of the credit to that ass she married."

I wasn't thinking of blaming her for Teddy, just for not calling Dad sooner, but I didn't want to start in on her. I was glad she'd finally called and wanted to leave it at that.

"You know, Dad, speaking of Barbara, I was wondering about something to do with that money you got from the state."

"Not you, too."

"What, me too?"

"You gonna start nagging me about my will just like your sister?"

"No, not at all. I don't want to talk about the money, except in context."

"Now you've lost me."

"Well, back in the spring, after the first heart attack when someone was needed to stay here when you came home from the hospital, you and Barbara both knew about your money. But neither of you said anything about it to me. You both made me think that your only option was for me to stay here, run the farm and keep an eye on you. And I reluctantly agreed because I couldn't think of any other way. But you could easily have hired someone to take care of the farm and the house. You didn't need me."

"Well, it wouldn't have been easy finding someone who would be able to handle all of the chores around here."

"It wouldn't have been that hard."

"Maybe not." He shrugged.

"So why did the two of you insist I come here and do it?"

"I can't speak for your sister." He paused for so long I thought he had nothing more to say but then he finally started again. "For me it wasn't ever about what I could or couldn't afford. Money has never meant much to me. As long as the farm supported itself and fed my family, that was enough for me."

"So once you had some money, why not spend a little of it taking care of yourself?"

"I would have if I'd had to. But I wanted to believe that I'd be able to get back to farming, so it was just a short-term thing. And I thought it could be a chance to get to know you again, to see what kind of man you'd grown into. I hated the way we'd parted and hoped that maybe we could start fresh. And we have, I think."

"Well, we're still bickering a lot but I think this may be the best we've ever gotten along."

"The bickering is proof of that. When you were a kid I'd criticize you and you'd change, do whatever I asked. Now you fight back. Somewhere in your life in New York you learned to stand up for yourself."

"That's funny, because that's the one thing I never did in the city. I spent twelve years being whoever anyone else wanted me to be, just like I was around you when I was a kid."

Dad shrugged again.

"I know you have this hang-up about not knowing what you want, and just going with the flow. But deep down you must have a pretty good sense of who you are if all these years of acting the way others want hasn't changed you. You're like me, though, you don't like conflict."

I was flabbergasted.

"You've got to be kidding. You've been fighting your whole life, at least as long as I've known you."

"We each avoid conflict in our own way. You get around it by just going along, not making any waves. I head it off through intimidation, bulldozing my way through life. If I come on strong enough at the start, people rarely fight back, at least not wimps like you." He grinned, the only way I could tell he was teasing.

"But your style is more likely to result in conflict than mine."

"It could, but when someone stands up to me I drop it. It's not so much that I back down, I just walk away from disagreements. Haven't you noticed that since you've been home?"

I'd paid so much attention to how he'd objected to almost everything I said or did that I hadn't really noticed that whenever I put my foot down he usually gave in. He grumbled and made faces a lot but he didn't fight me, at least not often.

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"You know I'm right."

He downed the last few drops of his drink and got up. At the door he paused.

"Everything okay with you and Declan?"

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"No reason. It's just that it was your first weekend together so I was wondering."

"It went fine. We're good."

Dad nodded and went back into the house. That was a lot of 'sharing' on Dad's part. He never opened up about his feelings like that and he'd given me a lot to think about. I'd finished my brandy but I wasn't ready to turn in, so I went inside for a refill. Dad had gone to bed so I went back to the porch, sat and listened to the silence and let my thoughts wander back and forth between Dad and Declan.