Rob and I wasted no time clearing the table putting everything away. After feeding Wilbur (no cat food tonight, but he did get some duck scraps) I told Rob, "Let's go to the Saloon and have a real drink to relax and begin the evening," and we headed off. On the way I checked and, sure enough, the door to my parent's section of the Shack was closed; it was usually left open.
I fixed Rob a rum and coke and a vodka tonic for myself, then we settled down into a couple of overstuffed chairs and lit cigarettes. Rob let out small sigh of happiness and said, "Your parents are really something else."
"I know. They never cease to amaze me. Hey, can I put my ring back on?"
Setting his drink down on the table Rob fished around in his pocket, saying, "I forgot all about the thing." Pulling it out of his pocket he asked, "Which hand?"
After thinking a moment I told him, "Put it on the right hand. You can switch it over next month at the party. You do wanna do that, don't you?"
"Sure. I told you last night I want the whole damned world to know." As Rob slipped the ring back on me he asked, "Hey, you gonna wear your new T-shirt to the wedding?"
Remembering the "I'm Not A Size Queen But My Boyfriend Is" shirt Rob had given to me, I sarcastically said, "Sure, that and nothing else. You know, instead of a ring on my hand, maybe you should put a cock ring on me then suck me into an erection rather than kissing me. That way everyone in attendance will know exactly what you're getting as we march back down the aisle. What do you plan on wearing?"
Sipping his drink while thinking Rob responded, "How about a black bow tie and nothing else? Instead of a ring on my hand, you can apply a removable tattoo on my butt that says 'Property Of Clayton;' that way, when we walk back down the aisle, everyone will really know what I'll be getting. How will that work?"
"Hmmm. I like that. But I think the bow tie should be medium blue to provide a nice accent to your eyes. What do you have in mind for the evening?"
"Welllll, I tend to think that full nudity will be involved. Just how much privacy do we have?"
"Virtually unlimited, for our purposes that is," I told him. "Mom and Dad will be off in their part of the Shack; they've got the kitchenette, so they won't need to come back out for anything. Most of the front yard is out of bounds because of the neighbors. Out back, the only thing you have to consider is anyone who might be over on the golf course, but only in the area in back of the pool and from the pool to the Woods. By this time of day, there's hardly anyone there, and even if there was, they probably wouldn't even notice us over here."
Rob sipped his drink and pondered for a bit. In a mock British accent, Rob inquired, "Clayton, about getting our socks mixed up. Do you think we may also have gotten our underwear confused as well?"
Adopting a similar accent I replied, "Hmmmm. There is that possibility. Do you think we should perhaps check?"
"I suppose so. Not knowing has piqued my curiosity, and I would like to remove that distraction."
"Indeed," I replied.
After removing our clothes so they could undergo a complete, diligent inspection, we were relieved to find that neither our underwear, nor any other article of clothing other than socks had been inadvertently exchanged.
Looking at me Rob observed, "Clayton, I do believe you are going to have a devil of a time putting your underwear back on. Your member appears to have swollen in size."
"So it has, so it has. And Rob, my boy, I detect a certain rigidity in your nether regions. Have you any concept of what may be the cause of this?"
"Let us draw out chairs together and ponder upon the evidence, shall we?"
"A capital idea." We drew our chairs together and sat back eyeing the other's nakedness, continuing to sip our drinks and finish our cigarettes. In turns, we would lean across and solemnly inspect one another's hard ons, giving them slight taps or squeezes to determine the extent of stiffness.
Leaning back in his chair Rob commented, "Clayton, it does not appear that the degree of turgidity is decreasing in the least with either of us. What is your opinion?"
"I do believe your observation is correct. I might add, the curvature of your appendage has become quite pronounced."
We continued to observe one another. After a bit I interjected, "Davis, I seem to recall something about other individuals who experience such conditions as we currently have."
"Is that so? And who might those personages be?"
"As I recall, they are referred to as homosexuals."
"Homosexuals?" inquired Rob, "and what might they be?"
"As memory serves, they are persons of the same gender who derive pleasure and enjoyment from being in intimate contact with one another."
"Do tell, do tell. What is the nature of this intimate contact?"
"Oh, my heavens, it seems there is virtually no end to the possibilities, depending upon the inventiveness of the participants. I say, would you care for a refill, and then perhaps retire to other quarters to continue this fascinating discussion?"
"Indeed I would," said Rob rising to his feet and replacing his chair in its original position.
We replenished our drinks, grabbed our clothing and then strolled naked back to my portion of the Shack, commenting upon the manner in which our erections bobbed about as we walked along. Entering my suite, we dropped our clothes on the floor and each had a sip of our drinks. Placing my glass on a table, with Rob following suit, I told him, "If memory serves, these homosexuals often commence their activities in this manner." I placed my arms around Rob and began giving him a long, wet sloppy kiss.
Our first night together as an openly gay couple had begun.
After we broke the kiss Rob said, "You know, Clayton, it's just after six o'clock. We got several more hours. What's say we cool down a little so we can make things last? Okay?"
"Yeah, you're right. I could get another nut about now, but after the three earlier ones today that would probably finish me off for good. Wanna go swimmin?'"
"Sure. Like this?" questioned Rob, referring to the fact neither of us had anything on, other than erections and my commitment ring.
"Sure. Nobody will see us. If we wanna wander around later there's plenty of shorts and stuff in the pool house."
"Okay, let's go." Walking across my bedroom to the door Rob asked, "Uhhhh, what about lube, just in case we need some?"
Putting my arm around him to resume our travel I told him, "Rob, you're married to a horny little pervert, remember? I got that stuff stashed all over the Swamp in strategic locations. You think the only place I jack off is in my bedroom?"
"Do you always use lube when you jack off?"
As I opened the door leading out into the patio area I replied, "Yeah, I've done it that way for so long I can't get off if I try to jack myself dry. It just doesn't feel good. I really don't understand how guys do it that way. There's been a few times at school when I'd get super horny and could get off in the boys' bathroom that way, but it was just a release and didn't have much pleasure to it."
"I'm pretty much the same way," continued Rob as we walked out into the back yard into the grass. "When I was hustling, it was also a good excuse if a guy wanted me to come for him in a car while I sucked him. I'd just tell him I couldn't get a nut without some lube, and spit just doesn't work."
As we walked along, our arms across one another's back, I reached down and started playing with Rob's butt. "You ever make the mistake of jacking off in the shower just using soap and water?"
"God, yes," exclaimed Rob as he let his hand slide down my back to fool around with my butt as well. "Who hasn't, at least that one time? Takes the hide right off your dick."
"And then you have to suffer along for a few days while it heals," I added. "Ever catch your dick in your zipper?"
"No. How 'bout you?" answered Rob as his hand migrated from my butt up along my side.
Continuing to enjoy the feel of Rob's magnificent ass I replied, "Nope. I missed out on that experience, but then I knew to pay attention. When I was in the second grade, Mike Adams snagged his when we all went to pee before morning recess. Mrs. Silver, our teacher, walked him all the way down to the school nurse with Mike crying and trying to keep himself covered with his hands. He really caught himself good too. Damn that was embarrassing for him. Hell, even to this day we still call him 'Zip.'"
"Kids can be really cruel," commented Rob. "You got a nickname at school?"
"Yeah. 'Pelt.' Short for Pelletier." I thought about asking Rob if he had a nickname when he was in school but decided not to. It might have been connected to this original name somehow, so I didn't want to go there.
Getting to the steps leading up to the pool area, we both moved our hands to one another's shoulders and walked up the steps onto the patio area. Turning his head to look back at the Shack Rob asked, "Wilbur gonna join us?"
"Nah. He's getting' kinda old and needs to take a nap after he eats. Wanna get in the whirlpool?"
We walked over to the whirlpool area of the pool. I went to the control box, opened it and turned on the timer switch for the pump motor. "You want heated water?"
"Yeah, why not?"
I set another timer switch, adjusted the thermostat, closed the control box and we climbed into the swirling water together. "Why the timers and not just switches?" asked Rob as he settled into the water.
"Safety. If you go to sleep, the heated water can kill you. Just like me last night with the heat stroke."
"I remember reading something in the paper once about that, " recalled Rob. "Some guy in a hot tub. Had too much to drink and passed out. Found him dead the next day."
"Yeah, being drunk increases the danger. Oh, shit! We left our drinks in my room. You want the rest of yours or not?"
"Nah. I'm fine. This is relaxing enough."
"Me too. Those timers are just another example of Dad's obsession with safety."
"Like, what else?" asked Rob.
"God, it's everywhere, but you don't see most of it because it's hidden. There's not a single piece of wood in the structural portion of the Shack; all the exterior and supporting walls are concrete, either tip wall or block, with brick veneer on the outside and metal trusses for the ceiling and roof, which is slate with copper flashing. All the interior supporting walls are concrete firewalls; the doors in them are steel fire doors, covered with wood veneer. The sprinkler system even includes the attic so if the mattresses were to catch on fire, which is just about impossible since all the electrical wiring is in metal conduit. There's no way this place can burn down; at most, it might get a little scorched in a small area before the sprinkler system kicked in. The water would do more damage than the fire itself, but even that wouldn't be all that bad. The system is zoned so that if a fire breaks out in an area, only the sprinklers in that section will go off. Plus, there's floor drains hidden away all over the place."
"You're kidding," said Rob, "that must of made the construction a lot more expensive."
"Not really. The Shack is actually built like a commercial building rather than like an ordinary house. It's pretty easy to come by scrap industrial building materials. It's also saved a ton of money on insurance premiums over the years. The place can't burn up, it can't flood in a storm, being up on the hill like it is, and it can't get blown away; it's built like a brick shithouse. Ever notice on the news how after a tornado or a hurricane, all the houses are blown to shit but the commercial buildings are still standing?"
After thinking a moment Rob replied, "You're right. The plate glass gets blown out, but that's it. The houses get flattened."
"What's really stupid is that when you compare construction costs, building a house out of concrete and steel is not that more expensive than building it out of wood, even if you're buying everything brand new. Even though it may cost a little more, you get a better quality house. But people keep on building residences out of wood 'cause that's the way it's always been done.
"You get so much more if you get out of the rut and really think about what you're doing. Hell, the exterior maintenance on the Shack is zilch, other than washing the windows on the outside. Everything exposed to the weather is either glass, stone, brick, slate, copper, brass or aluminum. You never have to paint anything outside other than the exterior doors, but they have marine finishes on them that last for years. In the long run, Dad came out way ahead having virtually no maintenance costs and dirt cheap insurance."
Looking at the construction of the whirlpool Rob commented, "Your Dad does really think things out. Like these ledges and stuff in the whirlpool, they're neat. Keeps your butt from sliding down and gives you a place to rest your arms."
"Yeah, they are neat. Grandma was down for a visit when we were building the fiberglass forms for them. Dad goes up to the Shack, sticks his head in the back door and yells out at the top of his lungs, "Hey, Evelyn! Come out back! I need to measure your old wrinkly ass!"
Rob started laughing as I continued, "See, we wanted to sculpt the ledges into various heights and ratios to accommodate different sizes of people. Dad had figured out all the measurements but wanted to double check to make sure Grandma would have a place in here that was just right for her. The really funny part was that Dad had no idea the Unitarian minister was in the living room with Grandma at the time."
Rob's laughter increased into convulsions as he managed to mouth out, "The preacher was here?"
"Damned right he was. And it was Dad's fault. He'd called the guy to let him know Grandma was in town and asked him to just drop by to invite her to be sure and attend Sunday services. Dad didn't want her to suspect the only reason he was dragging us all to church was just so she could meet people."
"Your Dad must have shit when he found out."
"Nah. Didn't bother him a bit. Grandma comes out here with the preacher in tow. Dad explains what we're doing, whips out his tape measure and checks her out. Then he turned to the minister and asked if he could measure his butt and shoulders as well. And the guy let him. Was happy to do it."
As Rob's laughter subsided he told me, "Clayton, I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this commitment ceremony. God only knows what your Dad might do."
"Oh, don't worry," I assured Rob. "Dad's got a lot of class. Really. Him and Mom both. That comment Mom made about sending out invitations for you and me was no joke. This is going to be a high class formal reception. If you don't have on proper evening attire, you won't get in the door."
"You mean I got ta wear a tuxedo?"
"Not just a tuxedo, my friend," I told Rob. "You, me, Dad and every other man in attendance will be in a tailcoat, white tie and vest since it doesn't start until after six in the evening. All the women will be in evening dresses. Waiters in monkey suits. Ice sculptures. Fountains. Everything. They've even got two string orchestras lined up, one inside, the other out back. They've been planning this thing for months."
"That's going to cost your parents a fortune," exclaimed Rob.
"Well, not really. Several years ago Dad did some computer consulting work for a start up software company and took a bunch of stock in return for his services. The stock really shot up in value, a lot higher than anybody ever expected. Dad sold his off; in fact, the original owners bought a lot of it back from him telling Dad he was a fool for selling. Several months later the bottom dropped out and that same stock was worth less than half of what Dad had sold his for."
"How did your father know to sell?" inquired Rob.
"He followed his instinct. I remember Dad telling Mom why he sold. Dad had worked on all the original software and applications that got the company off the ground and really going. So they then decided to do a new and improved version. But instead of calling Dad again, they brought in other people. Dad's position was that as long as the company stayed with things he had worked on and knew about, he'd stay with them. But when they brought in the outsiders, he pulled out. As he put it, he didn't want to gamble on a bunch of computer nerds who can't think any further ahead than their next paycheck. He figured they'd just fuck things up, and they did. You remember all that flap about Y2K?"
"Well, Dad's company didn't have problem one. All because he had the foresight twenty years ago to make sure the date field in all their software had four digits for the year instead of just a lousy two like everybody else. Saved them god only knows how much money and trouble, and they didn't do a fucking thing to thank him for it. Of course, Dad didn't think anything about it. He felt like he was just doing his job."
"That really sucked for them to not to do anything."
"Yeah, it did. Anyway, that's how they're paying for the party next month. Come to think of it, Dad's probably going to use some of that money from the stock sale to build the garage. That would explain why he's so willing to get it built all at once." Looking down at myself in the water I asked Rob, "You ever notice how when your dick is soft it floats in the water?"
"No, whaddya mean?"
Sliding a little closer to Rob I said, "Watch." My cock was pointing straight up under the water; when I pushed it down and away from my body and let go, it came back up. "See what I mean. Let's see if yours is the same." I reached over and repeated the process with Rob's soft dick and it responded in the same way. Rob decided to join in on this science experiment and we expanded our research to include testing the floatation properties of one another's balls. Continuation of the experiment became spoiled as our dicks got hard, so we resigned ourselves to having to examine the underwater properties of the remaining parts of our bodies.
After the timer on the whirlpool pump cut off we eased ourselves over the edge into the swimming pool itself and began slowly walking about in the water, holding, kissing and caressing one another. The colder water in the pool lessened our ardor somewhat as we began a slow, improvised dance through the water, letting our hands and mouths wander freely. After negotiating our way around the pool to stand under the gentle spray of a small fountain, Rob looked at me and asked, "Wanna try something different?"
Rob's wonderful impish smile told me this would be something playful, rather than passionate, so I coyly asked, "What you got in mind, Banana Boy?"
Other than that one five minute session in the back yard last summer, Rob and I had always had our various forms of intercourse indoors. Without any prior discussion we both knew we'd later be making out in the Woods and other places, but the concept of sex in the water had never occurred to me. Sex by the pool, sure. But not in the water itself. The concept was intriguing. So I told him, "I'll go get some lube. Meet me over there at the shallow end."
Going over to a nearby ladder I climbed out of the pool and trotted into the pool house to get the lube (no, I'm not gonna tell you where it's hidden, it's a secret). Meeting Rob back at the shallow end I asked, "Whose dick do we use first?"
"Well, Donkey Boy, it was my idea so let's use that missile of yours," said Rob as he lowered himself and began softly sucking me to erection. Following Rob's directions, standing in knee deep water, we generously lubed up my dick and his ass, then, face to face, I picked him up with him holding me around the neck with his arms, his legs wrapped around my waist. I carried him over to the edge of the pool so he could lean backwards and get his butt into a position where I could enter him. After getting my dick into his hole, we began to move down the edge of the pool into deeper water. When we got to a place where I was standing in the water past my stomach, we were sufficiently deep in the water to permit Rob to float. Rob was able to lean back in the water, grab the edge of the pool to keep his head above water, relax and be effortlessly suspended in front of me.
The problem with face-to-face fucking is the somewhat awkward and uncomfortable position the recipient has to keep his legs in. There is the benefit of being able to see and watch your partner's face, but face-to-face copulation is somewhat clumsy. Unless your partner is floating in the water. And then it is unbelievable.
The feeling of Rob floating, actually floating light as a feather above me was stupendous. Folding my hands behind my back with his legs resting in the crooks of my elbows, I could lean back slightly and make Rob bob up and down in the water with gentle, slow thrusts of my dick. The resulting waves we produced in the water aided and timed our motions so that virtually no physical effort had to be expended by either of us. So that the lube wouldn't wash off, I kept my dick fairly well buried in him; his virtual weightlessness allowed my cock to move and control the bobbing motion of his entire body. In repeated succession, Rob's ass fucked my dick while my dick fucked his ass simultaneously, over and over again.
Rob was in pure ecstasy. The only word he could manage to utter was my name. His long, deep, passionate moans filled the air as his eyes closed and his head rolled about. I expected this to continue for many minutes until the lube began to wash away, but it didn't. Rob's pleasure was so intense and his relaxation so complete that after just a short period, his grip on the edge of the pool vanished and he spilled into the water, pulling himself off my dick. Pulling him to his feet, Rob collapsed about my shoulders, causing me to pick him up and help him out of the pool to lie down in a lounge chair. If it weren't for his garbled statements about how wonderful he felt you'd have thought I'd killed him, he was absolutely limp.
We spent the next five minutes or so letting Rob recuperate. About all he could tell me was, "Clayton, you're not going to believe it. It's incredible." Like me, he had never before thought about doing anything like this, it was something he just came up with on the spur of the moment. After Rob became rejuvenated, he got up from his chair and led me back to the pool and we reentered the water. Giving me an intense smile, reaching down to grasp his dick he said, "Let's get this thing hard so you can have one of the best feelings you've ever had." I knelt down and tenderly sucked Rob's softened cock into my mouth, gently encouraging him to become erect. Surprisingly, nothing happened. It seemed Rob was experiencing the same inability to achieve an erection as if he had recently had an orgasm. After several minutes, placing his hands on my head in a manner to tell me to stop the fellatio he softly told me, "We'll just have to wait until later."
I got back to my feet and looked at him in wonder. What was this that we had just done? Rob kissed me and said, "I can't describe it to you, Clayton, you'll just have to wait. Let's go for a walk in the Woods."
"Okay, let's go put on some shorts, someone over on the golf course might see us." We walked back to the pool house, found two pair of gym shorts, slipped them on and started our walk together, our arms across the other's shoulders. As we walked across the patio area, I stopped, picked up the bottle of lube and stuck it in my pocket. I saw the questioning look on Rob's face and I told him I had nothing in mind; I merely did not want to leave the thing lying there since I might forget to put it back away later, just as I had forgotten and left our drinks in my room earlier.
After walking out of the pool area into the open and in view of the golf course across the creek from us, Rob and I both, without a word, instinctively returned our arms to our sides ceasing our mutual touch. Simultaneously realizing we had just again thoughtlessly bowed to the rigors of accepted social convention, we both stopped, looked at one another somewhat in disgust and then, in almost exact unison, snorted out, "Fuck the neighbors!"
Placing our arms around the other's waist we resumed our walk, thinking about what had just happened. Rob finally broke the silence by asking, "Am I the only one here who believes that while it's okay for two guys to be walking along like this holding one another sorta out in public, it would be improper for us to be doing it without the shorts on?"
Thinking this over a bit I replied, "No, you're not. I wish we could, but it just wouldn't be right. Just as it wouldn't be right for a straight couple to be walking around naked in full view of the public, unless they were at a nude beach or someplace where such would be acceptable behavior."
Rob shook his head philosophically remarking, "You know, I can't understand why they hate us so badly. We're not that different. Respectable people don't act up in public. If you wanna have sex or something like that, you do it in private. If you wanna walk around naked, do it where it is acceptable. That's what pisses me off so much about some of these gay guys, flaunting themselves around in public, having no respect for other people. That embarrasses people, and they seem to delight in doing it. They say they're doing it to advance gay rights, like they're being some kind of political activist. Bullshit. They just wanna get noticed, like a little kid acting up to get attention. I find it disgusting, just as disgusting as a straight couple sucking face and groping one another in public."
"Well," I added, "you've just answered your own question. The reason they hate us is because of that handful of fags who do all the flaunting in public. They don't have any courtesy for the people around them. And it gives all of us a bad name and reputation. Sure, the two of us get pretty faggy acting sometimes when we're in bed, but we keep it to ourselves, I'd never do that in public."
"You know," continued Rob, "in a way I guess I'm sort of a gay activist myself, but only in relation to other gays, not the public in general."
"How's that?" I asked.
"There's one bar I go to sometimes after work, I used to go there nearly every weekend before I met you. It's a nice quiet place, nothing fancy. You can have conversations with people, nobody is trying to get in anybody's pants. Just a nice, neighborhood bar. More like a pub. It's just full of gays rather than straights, just regular, respectable people. Well, it's got a piano and some sound equipment and they have live entertainment at nights, a singer or just a pianist usually. There's this one guy who is a really good piano player and has an excellent voice, but he is as faggy as they come. Or at least that's the way he acts when he's performing. Nelly voice when he sings, singing regular songs with weird lyrics he's made up about sucking dicks and stuff. And it's not amusing, just offensive. You can tell the guy thinks he's really being cute when he's doing that shit.
"So I'm sitting there one night and the guy comes in and starts his little show. The place is full. Well, I'm not gonna sit their and listen to this shit so I figure I'll finish my drink and walk down the street to another bar. While I'm finishing my drink, I ask the guy next to me who I've been talking with what he thinks of that asshole on stage, letting him know I think the guy's a butthead. The guy has the same opinion. So I tell him, 'Well, as soon as I'm done with this beer, I'm gonna vote with my feet and get outta here. Wanna join me down the street so we can continue our conversation?' The guy looks at me and says 'Sure, why the hell not? I can't stand that crap either.' We both know this ain't a pick up. It's a way to say to that idiot up front, 'Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.'
"The guy I've been talking with then leans over to the guy next to him and tells him the same thing: vote with your feet if you don't care for that crap. So I turn to the guy on my other side and repeat the spiel. Guys start finishing their drinks, then get up and walk out of the place. Thirty minutes later, damned near the whole bunch, thirty, forty guys, are all down at this other bar."
"They really all walked out?" I asked.
"Damned near all of 'em. From the last report I heard, there were only three customers left in the place. The guy was singing to an empty house and getting really pissed about it. I heard later that the next time the guy appeared, the customers told him to keep his mouth shut and just play the piano if he couldn't keep his act clean and knock off the faggy shit. When he keeps on doing it, they started throwing ashtrays at him and ran him off."
"Rob, that's great, and you started it."
"Yeah, and it made me feel good to know I'm not the only one who thinks this way; in fact, I think the majority of gays are the same but just don't do anything and keep putting up with that shit. That's the funny thing. That idiot singer had been coming in there for a long time. The customers aren't coming there to listen to him, they're there to socialize with one another. And they've been putting up with numb nuts there all along. All I did was say, enough is enough, don't put up with it. If you stay here, you're in effect putting your stamp of approval on what he's doing. Don't just continue to sit there and try to ignore the bastard. When the bartender asks you if you want another drink, just say 'Yes, but not here. I don't wanna listen to that shit,' then get up and leave."
Rob and I had been slowly strolling along while I listened to his story. The distance from the pool area to the Woods is not far, not as much as a half a city block, and we still had a little way to go. I looked at Rob and said, "Speaking of walking, let's quit this ambling along stuff and get to the Woods and get back to nature, okay?"
In less than half a minute Rob and I were in the seclusion of the Woods, so we pulled off our shorts and hung them on a bush. We were barefooted but the gravel on the path was smooth and not uncomfortable to walk upon. Being both again naked, I put my left arm around Rob's shoulder, kissed him, then ran my right hand across his chest, down his stomach and began to softly fondle his genitals whispering in his ear, "We need to take good care of this so you can show your new husband what you learned at the pool earlier." Rob relaxed and leaned his head against mine as I gently continued to whisper in his ear, telling him how much I loved him and how wonderful he was. I then asked, "May I escort you to a special place so I can express my love for you?"
"You mean the Gazebo?"
Rob looked away for a moment deep in thought. He looked back at me and told me, "Clayton, not now. I'd feel funny going there right now like this. What makes that area so special was it was all done for your grandmother, and I just wouldn't feel right, not now anyway, perhaps later, but not now."
Rob was right. After thinking about it I felt the same way. It would be almost like us fucking in my parents' bed. I kissed him and told him, "I understand, I kinda feel the same way. Let's go back."
We walked back through the Woods, put our shorts on and walked back towards the pool. We didn't talk about anything much, just walked and held and touched one another. The sun was getting lower in the sky and we watched our shadows following along with us across the grass. We stopped now and then to position ourselves to alter the images of ourselves on the ground. It was a rather sensual activity, creating dark portraits of two men gently exchanging affectionate touches. Nearing the pool area, we lay down together in the grass in the shade of the tree on a sloping portion of secluded ground. Rob slipped his shorts off and placed them behind his head to prevent the grass from tickling his face; I removed mine as well, but decided to use Rob's chest as my pillow as I cuddled up to him on the warm ground.
With Rob stroking my face and hair I gently nuzzled against him, feeling safe, wanted and content. I always enjoyed doing this, it feels wonderful. A small desire I'd never had before struck me, and I began to softly lick and suck on his nipple. When Rob and I first began to see one another, and began exploring and experimenting to determine what we enjoyed, we had tried nipple sucking but neither one of us found it all that pleasurable. We had talked about how some guys get really turned on by having their nipples sucked and licked, but it did nothing for either of us. Even though nipples are made of the same type of skin as the head of our dicks, ours just weren't sensitive, so we never paid them any attention.
As I kept my mouth in place, softly kissing Rob's nipple with soft licks and sucks, I recalled how he had done the same with me last night. After the twenty minute power fuck on the bedroom floor I had given Rob as his dominant male, he had sucked and licked my nipples as he lay curled up in my arms, wrapped in the nest I had created on the floor for us from the bedclothes pulled off the bed. Emotionally, I was very moved by Rob's actions. I had felt as though he was still completely surrendering to me, wanting me to provide him with care, affection and protection. In a sense, he was like a small child in my arms. His sucking was clearly not intended for my pleasure; rather, it was he satisfying some deep, primal need thereby triggering the instinctive sucking of an infant nurturing itself.
During the maturing process, we are all taught to "stop acting like a baby" and we do; starting at an early age, babies are taught and encouraged to not put things in their mouth and suck on them. With Rob this afternoon, I realized that the sucking instinct of newborns perhaps has more to it than merely satisfying the need to be fed. That instinct is also a basic means to express and receive affection and love. A baby has no concept of social conventions, but it still has the basic needs for protection and affection, and it attempts to satisfy those through the only two mechanisms it has: crying and sucking.
I know when Rob and I made love, as opposed to having sex for just physical pleasure, it always triggered the crying instinct. As the intensity of our intercourse increased, the desire for sexual pleasure was replaced by the intense desire to receive love from the other, and we cried for it, instinctively producing actual tears that begged for something our souls needed.
Lying with Rob this evening I also began to realize that when I sucked Rob's dick, it was more than just a means to produce sexual enjoyment for us. Yes, it usually turned me on and caused me to become erect. But regardless of how long or how much I sucked on him, it had never caused me to have a climax and probably never would. The pleasure I derived from performing fellatio on Rob had more to it than the sexual aspect; when I sucked him, I was also allowing a primal instinct in me to be released to satisfy my desire and need for love from him. And I also then realized Rob did the same with me. During our showers after we'd had sex, we always sucked one another's dick and usually no erections were present. To us, sucking one another's soft cock was done purely for our personal pleasure. Clearly, it was not sexual desire that caused it, we had just gotten off and that desire was satisfied. When I'm not erect, Rob's sucking produces none of the sexual pleasure that his fellatio on my erection does, but it is still an emotionally pleasurable experience for me having him satisfy himself in that manner.
Like every one else, I had been programmed into believing that sucking was an improper thing to do. If you wish to express your displeasure with something you say "that sucks." To insult another male you tell him "suck my dick." In one of the oddities of the English language, we also insult one another with the phrase "fuck you," but fucking is one of the best things on earth. Why should sucking be anything to be ashamed about? As children we do it instinctively, so what is wrong with continuing to do it as adults?
With my mouth over Rob's nipple that afternoon, out of doors and not surrounded by the evidences of civilization or social conventions, I allowed myself to use the most basic instinct in me to satisfy my emotional needs to receive protection, affection and love from him. In a sense, I suppose I let my "inner child" loose. I emotionally surrendered myself to him and began to suck upon his chest. I knew this was what I needed, because my soul was crying out for it with the tears that formed in my eyes. Just as it had felt so natural for me to suck Rob's cock for my satisfaction the first time we were together, it now seemed perfectly natural to suck upon his nipples for my emotional satisfaction of needing love and protection.
The recognition of all of this allowed me to permit myself to throw away everything that social convention had suppressed and I allowed myself to suck upon Rob with abandon, satisfying my need for him as I cried and whimpered for more. Sensing my emotional needs, Rob said nothing, asking no questions of me. He knew what I was feeling. It was the same feeling he'd had last night on the bedroom floor as we cuddled in our nest together. As I had done with him the previous night, he turned on his side and wrapped his protective arms around me and allowed me to satisfy my desire to receive affection and loving acceptance from him. The intensity of the emotion I felt was magnified as the further realization came over me that I now understood and appreciated even more of Rob's feelings and desires as well as his genuine need for me.
As I continued to satisfy my emotional needs in this instinctive manner, a sudden new wave of desire came over me. An incredibly sexual one. I wanted Rob to fuck me, really fuck me, like an animal. I needed him to mate with me as I had mated with him last night. I wanted to completely surrender to him and have him be my dominant male.
I pushed Rob away from me onto his back. Looking at him, tears streaming down my face, he saw the same need in my eyes that I had seen in his the previous night. Whereas he had wildly sucked my dick to beg me to give him what he needed, I began to furiously suck upon his nipples, switching back and forth from left to right. I knew Rob sensed what I needed. Even though having his nipples sucked gave him no sensual pleasure, it did convey exactly what I needed from him; I could feel his dick swell and harden against my stomach as he clutched me tightly to him, firmly digging his fingers into the muscles of my back.
Reaching over and grabbing my shorts, he pulled out the lube bottle and unscrewed the cap, dropping it on the ground. Pulling himself out from under me, he pushed me face down on the ground and jerked my legs apart. Separating my butt cheeks with the fingers of his left hand, he pressed the open neck of the bottle into my hole and squirted an enormous amount of lube up my ass. Tossing the nearly empty bottle down on the ground he grabbed my shoulder and rolled me on my back, then stood up to face me. Pointing in the direction of the Woods he barked out the command, "Run!"
I scrambled to my feet and began running to the Woods as fast as I could with Rob right behind me. As I reached the treed area Rob grabbed me from behind, forcefully pulling me to stop. Placing his left arm around my waist from behind he harshly pushed against my back to bend me over and then positioned my hands against the trunk of a tree in front of me to support myself. Then he savagely grabbed my butt cheeks with his hands and began kneading his fingers deep into the muscles and spreading them far apart, allowing some of the lube within me to ooze out, then pressing and rubbing my butt cheeks back together to completely lube myself for his entry. I waited for what I knew was about to happen. I silently begged for it to start as Rob continued to manipulate my butt. I wanted him so badly. I didn't know whether to remain silent or plead with Rob to start. My need for him was so great I again began crying. As my body began to shake from my sobs, it started.
Rob slammed his dick into my ass with what seemed every ounce of power and energy he had. Grabbing me by the waist and chest to pull me upright, he continued to ram it further into me, pulling my feet off the ground as he leaned back and pushed upward into me from behind. Impaled on his dick, he carried me over a short distance to a sandy clearing, sat my feet back on the ground, withdrew his cock from my butt and pushed me down on the ground.
Spread before him in a prone position on the sand, Rob mounted me from behind and gave me the first in a series of power fucks that probably lasted for an hour. He had squirted so much lube up my ass that he probably could have continued fucking me until next Tuesday. In one sense, it seemed it would never stop, but in another, it seemed it had only just started. He fucked me face down on the ground. He fucked me dog style. He fucked me standing. He fucked me while I was on my back. He fucked me as I hung from the limbs of trees. He ordered, dragged and carried me all over those damned Woods fucking the daylights out of me in places and positions I had never dreamed of.
And it was wonderfully awesome. As I had been with him the night before, Rob wasn't my husband, my lover or even my friend. He was a man, and using his dick and my ass as the tools, he released his masculinity into me. I wanted a man and I damned sure got one. As we frantically scrambled about the Woods, Rob was completely in control and I wanted him to be. Neither of us uttered any words, but just emitted primitive noises. Unlike the long, continuous and rhythmic power fuck I had given him last night, Rob gave me a series of power fucks that had no pattern or rhyme to them at all. The only consistent thing was that every one was an incredibly hard and solid fuck. Sometimes it would last for two or three minutes; other times after slamming his dick in and out of me only five or six times, he would withdraw and pull me away to another location, reposition me and go at it again. At times, after placing me in position, he rammed into me immediately; other times he would wait, leaving me positioned in the suspense of sweet agony, knowing what was about to happen but unsure when his next onslaught would begin. On a few occasions with me positioned before him in complete surrender, he would look at me intently, fucking me with his eyes rather than his cock, then drag me away to a new location or throw me into another position.
With the light from the setting sun filtering through the trees, Rob eventually picked me up in his arms and carried me through the Woods. I allowed myself to go absolutely limp in his arms as he carried me along a path to the Gazebo. Walking over to the waterfall, he stepped into the knee deep reflecting pool and lowered me into the water. We were both covered in sweat, dirt, lube, twigs and pieces of leaves and grass. Kneeling down to scoop and splash water over his body, Rob began to remove the grime from his body and I followed his example.
Cleansed of the debris of the Woods, he stood under the waterfall for a final rinse and then stepped out of the water and walked over to the stone wall, turned around and leaned back against it. After I had rinsed off under the waterfall I turned to face Rob; he motioned for me to come over to stand in front of him, then folded his arms across his chest.
Standing in front of him, water dripping from the both of us, Rob slowly looked at the naked, needy animal before him while I looked at my dominant male. Neither one of us had ejaculated and I wondered what would happen next. Rob's cock was still fully erect, pointing upward and slightly curved back toward his stomach. Knowingly staring into my eyes, his arms crossed across his chest, he tensed and relaxed the muscles in his body, flexing his biceps and pecs while his dick twitched about, still in readiness. I continued to stand before him waiting, not knowing what would come next. The intensity of his gaze finally softened and a gentle smile formed on his lips. I watched as the awesome man before me turned back into my lover, who then stood upright and opened his arms toward me, beckoning me to him. Watching his erection disappear while I walked the few short steps toward him, I felt the animal that had just been royally fucked transform back into Rob's husband. After entering the loving grasp of one another's arms we allowed our tears to flow and slowly subside as we joyously held one another, concluding our embrace with a long, tender kiss.
Stepping back from me, Rob leaned back against the stone wall and his loving smile evolved into a devilish, impish grin. Looking about, as if checking to see if anyone else was around, Rob reached down and began fondling his half erect dick and playfully asked, "Well, horny little queer boy on the hill, wanna pretend I'm the jogger you always wanted to invite up here?"
Copulating with your mate is awesome. Nurturing with your husband is wonderful. Making
love with your lover is fantastic. Playing with your boyfriend just for the fun of
it ain't bad either.
Without giving prior warning, my mail server decided to "upgrade" their service about ten days ago and wound up making a real pig's breakfast of everything; basically, everything vanished and was totally inoperable for a period of days. During that time, all e-mails that were sent never arrived and probably never will.
Accordingly, if you've written lately and I haven't responded, it means I never got your e-mail. I figure if someone is kind enough to write, they deserve a prompt response; please don't think I was ignoring you. It seems everything is back again as it should be and I apologize for the difficulty caused by those anonymous little software engineers, whoever and wherever they are. I'm tempted to call them ugly names, but that wouldn't be fair to the geeky little bastards.
Anyway, as before, you can find me at www.geocities.com/lyleter2001.