Date: Tue, 25 Nov 2003 06:37:11 -0800 (PST)
From: dante umbero <danteumbero@yahoo.com>
Subject: Artist's Holiday-Home

WARNING this story contains graphic descriptions of
hot man 2 man sex.  If you are offended or too young
to read it go away.  Otherwise enjoy.
This story is based on real characters and real
events.  While creative license has been used to
enhance the tale, and obviously the names have been
changed, the general storyline is factual.
The characters in this story were living in a place
and time when diseases were not so common.  Be
responsible and don't make love without a "glove".

Ciao
Dante-


The jet floated down feeling for the runway, I'd been
awake the whole flight to New York, and this flight to
Cleveland, thinking about Joel, his Mom, and my folks.
 I knew the sadness Joel was experiencing with his
Mom, I'd warned him about it.

My Mom and Dad live just outside Cleveland, I had
grown up there.  The little town was a suburb now but
had been a small town when I lived there.  Like all
small towns it had been peopled with small minds, and
non-conformity was discouraged in the nicest way.  I
had grown up with the expectation I would live the
American dream.  The first indication I gave that that
wasn't going to happen, was when I was 6 and told my
Dad that I wanted to be an Artist.  He had joked and
asked me if I didn't want to grow up to be a Doctor
like him.  Later, when I was older I played baseball
and basketball as an attempt at conformity, but I
think by then my folks were convinced that I was
"different".  They were well educated and reasonably
well off.  Then my sophomore year in High School, they
gave in to my idea and decided to send me into the
city on Saturdays for lessons from Harold Steinman a
local artist of some merit.  This was really an
attempt to get me to see that artists didn't make lots
of money and worked very hard indeed.  I loved every
minute of those hours in Harold's smelly studio.  He
heated it with an old coal stove and the odor clung to
everything year round.  Harold was classically trained
and had spent a few years in Paris before the war.  He
introduced me to drawing first and then watercolor.
He also asked me one day if I was "gay".  Now keep in
mind this was about 1977, Freddie Mercury, Elton John
and the whole studio 54 thing was going on in places
like New York.  Even Cleveland had its trendy gay
community.  I remember telling him quit honestly that
I didn't know, but I was thinking about becoming a
priest, as I sanded yet another gessoed canvas.  That
was my conformist answer to non-conformity.  He was a
very observant man, as an artist he had had to be, so
I think he knew.  He had told me that would be a waste
as I had a lot of talent and attitudes elsewhere
weren't like here.  Now, looking back, I wonder if
Harold was hoping for a little "action" but I was
already living for my Art, and was too young to know.
It taught me one thing though, to hide any trace of my
desires.  I grew into a very reserved young man.  I
continued to try for conformity, but the drive to
paint was causing problems and I was starting to get
constantly harassed at school about being "queer", not
for any overt effete behavior, but because anyone in a
small town who does anything the least eccentric is
subject to scorn.  Preferring to spend Saturday in a
studio with a guy instead of on the ball field or
chasing girls was, to my small town, plain strange.
How much of this harassment actually got me to
thinking along those lines and how much was genetic
I'll leave to the scientists, but by the time I was a
senior I had had sex with one of the guys in my class,
and I had another passion to share time with my
pursuit of art.  Old Harold told my folks that I
should be sent to a formal art school, much to their
disappointment.  We chose the Art Institute in San
Francisco, after much soul searching.  The city was
eye opening and I soon joined the party crowd.  The
rest, as they say is history.  I never told my folks
and in all honesty I wondered now if, like Ian's
parents, they guessed and hoped it would go away.  I
know that over the intervening years talking to them
always left me sad and dissatisfied.  Of course for a
long time I was too busy pursuing my art and my
passions to spend too much time thinking about it and
too poor to come home often.  When the money was there
I had slipped into my world of post-party, post-Anne
work and the resulting success that took all my time.


Now as the jet was touching down in Cleveland I
decided it was time to clear this little section of my
life up.  I realized talking to Ian that as much pain
as his experience with his folks had caused, he didn't
have this shrouding mystery in the way of somehow
establishing the complete adult relationship I felt
would be possible with them if they knew, and how
really unfair I had been to them all these years.  I
am their only child; surely they have the right to
know this fundamental truth about me.

I hadn't told Joel what I was up to, all he knew was
that I couldn't get a flight into Cincinnati until
this evening and was spending the day in Cleveland.
So I had that guilt to deal with as well.  Something
deep inside me was still insecure about our
relationship, perhaps it was still the age difference.
 I wondered if that were the case, would it ever go
away.  I tried to analyze it; it wasn't that I didn't
trust Joel, for the moment I did.  It was more that I
knew how much I had changed emotionally over the last
10 years.  I was looking ahead of him and wondering if
the same thing happened to him, will there still be a
place for me?  And if not, I'll be well into my 50's
and potentially less capable of coping with betrayal
and loss.  It seemed to me he has so much ahead of him
that I have already weathered, is the difference just
too much.

I called my folks from the baggage claim area and they
were pleasantly surprised and fortunately not tied up
in anything.  The cab ride out was like driving down
memory lane.  I tried thinking back and realized the
last time I had been here was for Harold's funeral
about 6 years ago.  Mom and Dad had attended with me
and I remember my Mom's arm sliding around my waist
when the priest recited the internment prayers and the
flash of the aspergillum in the weak sunlight.  The
house looked remarkably unchanged although it always
seemed smaller than when I was a kid.  I paid the man
and walked up to the front door and opened it.  The
smell of the hall always made me feel at home. Dad was
in the library I could smell his pipe smoke, and I
went that way.

"Son," he said getting up and extending his hand which
I shook. "Your mother told me you were flying through,
literally.  It's so good to see you."  He said patting
me on the shoulder.

I could sense the reserve, which had colored all of
our conversations since the day I told him I didn't
want to be a doctor.  "Dad, I have been having flight
problems all week and decided as I couldn't get to
Cincinnati until this evening, I would come see you
and Mom.  Where is she?"  I asked looking around.

"She went into town to pick up some groceries; you
know how she likes to cook for you.  She'll be home
soon.  Tell me, what you have been up to.  Your
commission in Kentucky and your invitation to show at
the Victoria and Albert was reported in the Cleveland
papers.  How did you find Europe?"  He said, as we sat
across from each other in front of the empty hearth.

"Great, I really didn't get to see that much.  I was
too busy with the gallery and the museum.  I did
manage to see most of the available Sargents, guess
I'm getting too old for a lot of site seeing.  Dad I
wanted to talk to you and Mom, it seems so long since
we just talked."   I said and then paused.

He looked at me over his glasses, and I could tell he
was taking a read of me.  "What's wrong, son, you
should know you can talk to us about anything.  You've
grown up and moved away from us but you're still our
little boy.  Your mother and I are so proud of you.
We never dreamed you'd be so successful."  He sighed.

"Dad, are you proud of me?  You're not disappointed I
didn't go to Med school and get married and settle
down in the practice with you?  Not disappointed that
I march to a much different drum than you do?"  I
asked and then went on.  "Dad, I've reached a place in
my life in which I want all the loose ends tied up
neatly and a new chapter opened.  Sometimes I feel
guilty because I haven't lived up to your dreams for
me."  I said and looked at the man who I was told all
my childhood I looked just like.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Why Dave, we are
very proud of you.  How could we be disappointed?  Do
you think your Mother and I don't know how blessed we
were to have a child like you?  Sure it was tough when
you told us you didn't want to study medicine, but
Harold told us you would be wasted as a physician or a
priest.  He told us you were far more talented than he
and that's why he begged us to send you to the
Institute.  Do you think I didn't worry everyday about
how the other kids treated you, as I watched you turn
inward?  I remember how inadequate I felt when I
didn't know how to reach you and I could see a wall
being built between you and everyone else.  The only
thing that has disappointed us is the distance that
has grown between us. For my part, I wish we could
somehow be close again, I miss my little boy.  Son,
your mother and I are old, we won't be around long,
and I would like to tie up those loose ends also."  He
sniffed and I realized he was very close to tears.  I
was totally unnerved.

I looked at my father and said, "Dad, I'm gay."

He smiled at me, then chuckled, "Finally, after all
these years.  Son I've guessed that since you were 17
years old.  It used to bother me, and I asked Father
Murphy about it.  He told me that you had asked him
about it also, and he told me what he had told you and
advised me to leave it to God."  He paused then said,
"The dark secret."  He sighed and then stood up and
walked over to me.  Then he did something he hadn't
done in years, he bent down and hugged me.  "Did you
really think we would do anything more than continue
to love you?  I was so proud of you when you had your
first show, then you just drifted away and it was so
sad.  I felt that somehow I had failed you.  Forgive
me for not being able to reach you."  He said.  I felt
the tears on his cheeks.

I embraced him and said, "Dad, I'm the one that should
be forgiven, for not trusting you.  Until recently it
had always seemed so important that I shield you both
from a life that I felt you would disapprove of.  I
just didn't want to hurt you."


The flight to Cincinnati was uneventful and mercifully
short.  My folks had tried to drive me, but I had told
them that it would be rush hour and I didn't want them
fighting traffic.  During the cab ride I thought about
the conversation we had had.  I realized something
fundamental about my life up until this day.  I had
been on the run from many things.  I ran from the fact
that I was gay and the reaction of the kids in school
and my folks, to California.  I ran from the AIDs
epidemic to Anne, and I ran from Anne to work and
success.  It seemed like until my admission to Dad, I
had been running for most of my life.  I felt suddenly
very liberated and oddly at peace.  Then suddenly I
wondered if my relationship with Joel wasn't another
attempt to run, this time from middle age.  I thought
about that all the way to Cincinnati.

I dialed Joel's number from the gate, "Hey lover,
where are you?"  I asked.

His voice was surrounded by the sounds of traffic,
"I'm walking into the terminal at this very moment.
I'll see you at baggage claim.'  He said and hung up.

I walked to the claim area, there he was, standing
with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, a
Black Harley T-shirt on, cowboy boots and a baseball
cap.  His eyes lighted up and he broke into a million
dollar smile when he saw me.  I walked over to him and
I slid my arm around his shoulders and hugged him
lightly.  I could feel his hand slide around my waist
and pull me against him.  Then he said, "I've missed
you.  Wish I could give you a big old kiss, but we
might get thrown out.  It wouldn't be a very polite
one, I'm afraid."  He said and laughed.

"We'll be out of here soon.  I've missed you too,
Joel."  I said as the red light went on the carousel
and the bags started going around.

We pulled my bags off and went through to the parking
lot.  Joel brushed up against me at every stride we
took, I was about to explode.  We threw the bags into
the truck and got in.  We dove for each other and our
lips met.   "God, I've missed you."  I sighed as my
hands wandered across his shoulders and down his arms.

"Mmm, me too."  He said.  His hands were locked behind
my neck and he was glued to me.

His taste and fragrance were as I remembered them and
the tickle of his razor stubble was very erotic.
"Let's find a room for the night; I can't wait until
we get back to the farm."  I said and stroked his
inner thigh.  I could feel his erect dick jerk as I
lightly brushed it.

"I'm way ahead of you big guy."  He said and tossed me
a room key he pulled out of the pocket of his jeans.
The old pickup roared to life and Joel drove out onto
the expressway.
"So, how was the day in Cleveland?"  He asked as we
merged onto the interstate.

"Great actually."  My hand was nestled on the top of
his thigh and I slowly started to stroke his hard tube
of meat though the jeans.

Joel moaned, "Dave, I'm gonna shoot if you don't
stop."  He gasped and shifted gears.

I laughed and said, "How far is it to this hotel,
anyway?"

We fell into the room of the Super 8, managing to make
it to the bed.  My bags were flung into a corner and
we were tugging each others clothes off.  Joel's arms
encircled me and he buried his face in my neck and I
could feel the urgency of his thrusts against my
crotch.  I reached between us and freed his rigid cock
from his jeans.  "Joel, you slut, going cammo."  I
said and sighed as I felt the slickness of his cock.
I managed to push my own slacks and boxers down and he
was pushing against my pucker.  I could hear his
ragged breathing and felt the pressure as he entered.
I moaned as he pushed through and slowly filled me,
his cock brushing my nut as he found his rhythm.  His
lips covered mine and his tongue pushed down my throat
and I could feel the edge of my orgasm start.  As the
first shudder rocked me I wrapped my arms around his
strong shoulders and pulled him in as close as I
could.  My cum slicked our abdomens down.  Joel
continued to pound into me at a quickening pace.  His
moans more frequent until he arched his back away from
me and I watched as his eyes close and his mouth
opened to elicit a deep moan, never more handsome and
beautiful.  I felt him, buried deep within me, start
to jerk and throb and knew he was dumping his cream
into me.  He sighed and sank down beside me.  I ran my
fingers across his chest and touched his cheek.

"I knew there was a reason I missed you."  I said and
smiled at him.

He smiled a lazy smile and said, "I'll have to remind
you again."

I awoke sometime later and saw Joel sitting in the
armchair watching TV quietly.  I reached out to him
and he slid back into bed and I wrapped my arms around
his chilled chest.

"You went to sleep and I didn't want to wake you up.
I'm sorry, Dave, I could have waited, I guess you're
exhausted from the flight."  He said and smiled.
"What did you do all day in Cleveland?"  He asked.

"Maybe you could have waited, but I couldn't."  I said
and laughed then, "I went to see my folks; they live
in the suburbs."  I could see Joel's brow wrinkle and
knew he was thinking about his own folks.  I said, "I
told them about us, Joel."

He looked at me and said grimly, "What'd they say?"

"We got a chance to work a lot of stuff out that had
clouded our relationship for years.  They had guessed
I was gay long ago, but because of my emotional
distance they were afraid to talk to me about it.  I
wasted a lot of years, Joel, years that we can never
reclaim."  I said and paused.  Then I kissed him
slowly and smiled, "They want to meet you and I want
to take you to see them, lover boy.  I hope you like
chocolate pie; it's my Mom's specialty."

He laughed and said, "Sure, I'd like that."  Then he
frowned and said, "Dave, do you want me to tell my
folks?"

"Joel, I haven't got anything to do with your telling
them.  I'm not into conditions and manipulation.  I
had too much of that with Anne.  I love you here and
now, just as we are.  You tell your folks in your own
time, in your own way."  I said and kissed him
lightly.   I scrambled out of bed and rummaged through
my carryon bag then tossed the brown paper wrapped
package to him.  "Hope you like it lover.  Sorry it's
not a BMW; maybe if you're a very good boy, Santa will
bring you one for Christmas."  I said and leered
wickedly at him.

Joel turned pink and untied the string and opened the
paper.  He pulled the antique volume from the sleeve
and looked up at me and smiled.  "It's an anatomy
book."  He said.

"Not just any anatomy book, lover.  His Majesty King
George II owned that in 1750.  Stubbs did the
engravings.  I thought it would make a great addition
to your office someday." I said.

Joel was flipping through the pages looking at the
engravings and reading snippets of the text.  He
looked at me then held out his hand.  I took it and he
pulled me down onto the bed again.  "This is so cool;
I've never owned anything like it before.  I think
it's time I remind you again why you missed me."  He
said.

"I thought you'd never ask", I said and kissed him
slowly.  Our tongues met and I sucked his lower lip
into my mouth.  I pushed him down on the bed and
pinned him by straddling his waist.  I started moving
my lips down to his neck and then onto his wonderful
chest.  His hair always turned me on and I let it
tickle my lips as I made my way from one nipple to the
other.  I let my hand trace the fur down his abdomen
and then buried in his bush of pubic hair as his dick
lengthened and I cupped his balls.  Soon my lips were
tracing his shaft and I sucked each nut into my mouth
and let it roll around.  I surrounded his helmet head
and took him into my mouth to the root.  My nose
buried in his pubes, I could smell the fragrance left
from our earlier encounter and it really turned me on.
 Joel moaned and slowly rolled onto his stomach
spreading his legs.  I opened my mouth against his
butt cheek and tasted his flesh and let the patch of
blond hair at the top of his cheeks tickle my nose.
Then I slid up his back and was laying on him kissing
his ear and neck.  "You are so hot; I can't get enough
of you."  I whispered into his ear then let my tongue
touch him there.  He moaned and pushed his butt back
into me.  My erect cock was wedged between his cheeks.
 Joel reached out and handed me a bottle of lube and I
let some trickle between us over my cock and down into
his crack.  I could feel the tension between our flesh
be negated by the lube and my cock slid deeper into
his crack.  I kissed his shoulder and neck and ear
letting my hand stray around his waist and touch his
hard cock.  I entered Joel slowly, letting him get use
to my rod as it stretched him. He sighed and then
moaned as I pushed deep into him.  His ass felt like
warm velvet against my raging hard on.  I started
slowly withdrawing and then pushing in.  Joel was
moaning and pushing back straining to take me deeper.
I buried my nose in his hair and could smell his
shampoo and the odor that was his signature.  My mind
reeled with the sensation of his warm chute stroking
my dick and I started speeding up, reaching for the
climax.  Joel was moaning with each thrust and I
reached around and pinched his nipple as my orgasm
crested and I sighed into his ear.  I rolled off Joel,
when my breathing had returned to normal and he rolled
onto his back.  I once again took him into my mouth,
he was dripping and the head had turned a purplish
color with his excitement.  My tongue traced the edge
of his helmet and then I swallowed him up again, he
moaned and then I felt his hands on my head as he
slowly stroked in and out of my hungry mouth.  His
balls slapped my chin and my nose was buried in his
fragrance.  The first jerk of his orgasm shot his cum
into my mouth.

We snuggled against each other, my cheek rested on his
shoulder.  His hand stroked my arm and back.  `Are you
ready to go to California with me, Joel?  I love you
and want to be with you the rest of my life."  I said
quietly.  I looked at him and he was staring back at
me in that, little boy solemn, way.  "Does that scare
you?  You realize if it were possible, I would ask you
to marry me."  I said and sighed.

"I love you too, Dave.  I know you think I'm still a
kid but I love you more than anyone before.  If it
were possible, I'd say yes."  He said and kissed me.

---

The drive out to California took 2 weeks.  We stopped
when the mood took us and I painted, while Joel read
and worked on his on-line class.  He had been accepted
as a visiting student at UC-Davis and would be
starting almost as soon as we arrived.  Flash had
joined us on the trip; Joel couldn't find a home for
him.  I suspected he hadn't really tried to hard, but
I was by this time attached to the flopped eared
rascal also.

We arrived late in the evening at the studio.  I
managed to find the keys and Joel parked the truck in
the garage that I had always used as storage.  I let
us into the studio and I paused and looked around.
Everything was as I left it, the tables clean and the
easels empty.  Joel looked around at the large open
space

He whistled and said, "Jesus, Dave, you sure you want
to give this place up?"

I chuckled and said, "It's too small for the
commissions work, and besides you don't want to
commute to Davis from here.  The new place will be
great in a few weeks you'll see."

We had stopped in Davis on the way into the city and
met Dale and Clark.  They were anxious for us to see
the short list of properties.  When I walked into the
abandoned warehouse that had once housed produce, I
knew it was the place.  The open free span 30 feet
tall would easily house the panels of the commission.
There was enough floor space to accommodate the
atelier and across the back we would partition it and
make a large loft space for Joel and myself.   The
back graveled lot would be redone into an outdoor
space for us.  Until it could be completed we would
lease a small apartment midway between the bay and
Davis.  I would have to continue in the old studio
space until the new one was complete and Joel would
need to commute to school.  Dale had already contacted
a construction company and architecture firm to
redesign the space.

Within a couple years, we were settled into a new
life.  The Art Institute jumped at the chance to
affiliate with my Atelier and the V&A had sent the
specs for the show.  The old studio was leased to a
design firm that I was a senior partner in along with
a couple of very bright young rising stars.  Dale and
Clark came around to my new focus quickly especially
as Ian's predictions about my prices had proved
correct.  I contacted Ian not long after the founding
of the Atelier and asked him to become my European
agent.  He readily agreed and my presence in Europe
has increased substantially.  And Joel, well he is
studying fulltime in the Vet program.  He is working
in the equine section of the Vet hospital and is
making quit a name for himself in those circles.  When
we designed the living space it included a large study
for him and a large guest suite for company.  Not long
after we settled into it, I surprised my folks and
flew them out for a week.  The visit was wonderful,
Joel and my father found lots in common, I guess there
isn't that much difference between Med school and Vet
school.   My Mom took the kitchen out for a much
needed test drive, as neither Joel nor myself are
remotely like cooks.   My fears for our relationship
haven't become reality, will they?  Who knows, but as
middle age continues to mellow I find less to worry
about and less reason to run.

Ciao
Dante