I smiled down at the flushed face framed in dark brown waves of hair, brushing it back off his forehead with one hand. My other rested in the middle of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, and making little swirls in the sweat between his pecs. Hazel eyes opened and they pulled me in like a hypnotic spell for a tender kiss. I could taste the mixture of our essences as we dueled for a bit with our tongues, then I nipped at the stiff nubs on his chest, making Mikey moan into the hair he was nuzzling at my neck. "Damn, so much fun ought to be illegal," he sighed. I took the wash-cloth from the basin again and wrung it out, then began cleaning his chest, my lips following in its wake.
When I got to his big dick, I took extra care cleaning it, and couldn't resist bobbing up and down on it a few times until he pushed me off. He was trying hard not to giggle too much. "Jay, you start that again and it'll fall off—you've drained it dry for the day." I moved back up so we were face to face, and kissed his lips again. He shifted so that I was now on my back, with his body half-covering mine, and felt his hand take the cloth from me to place it back in the enamel bowl. The look in his eyes was one of mischief and lust. "My turn to clean up my dirty farmer..." and he began kissing and licking his way down my own chest, his tongue circling each of my nipples before sucking them into hard nubs. When he got to my dick, it was hard and rampant, but all he did was touch the tip with his tongue, then pull back so I could see a hair's-breadth of space between it and my throbbing hardness...I was tingling and aching for him to close that gap and take me in his mouth again like he had three times already, but he wouldn't. Instead he blew warm breaths across it.
"Please, Mikey..." I didn't know what was causing it, but this would be my third load for him since we got home...number four if I counted the one we'd done this morning before school. Three was my limit at the best of times when I was alone, but there was something about Mikey that seemed to draw extra energy out of me—and I wondered if it was because he seemed to like the way I tasted. I sure liked the way his jizz tasted, and I could have done him a third time, but he was too sore. If he did this now, I'd even the score before I took him home tonight. I closed my eyes and saw stars when he took me back into his mouth, and over the edge for number three—or four depending on how you counted them.
When I could breathe again, I opened my eyes to cool moisture as he wiped my face with the wash-rag, then tenderly wiped the rest of my body. I stuck my tongue in his mouth when it came close enough, and was a bit disappointed that he'd swallowed all my cum and I had only a few stray drops to swab out of his mouth. Both of us liked it when we mingled and traded our juices, even more than taking it straight down our throats. I raised my hips slightly as Mikey slid my red briefs back on, then he gave them a soft kiss on the front where I lay satiated for the moment. He helped me sit up, and I picked up his purple briefs, giving them a seductive sniff and lick before easing them up his legs and tucking his shaft inside. He was getting harder as we stood up to finish dressing, me in my jeans and red tee-shirt, him in his jeans and purple button-down oxford.
I guided his feet into his loafers, then slipped mine on as I put his glasses back on his nose. I pushed them up into place in a gesture that was fast becoming as automatic for me as it had long been for him. I ran my fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it neater, and to check for stray pieces of hay...and he did the same for me, only he stepped in close so he could breathe in the last remnants of my strawberry shampoo. My watch said 5:15. "I have to milk the cows," I whispered in his ear. "You want to help? I think you'll like it—and I know you'll be great at it."
"I dunno, Jay...what makes you think I'll like it? My dad grew up on a farm, and I've visited my aunts and uncles as a kid, but I've never had to do any farm chores myself—not even for the two elderly ladies who live on the one across the street—I've only helped them with their garden." I took Mikey's hand and led him over to the radio as he tried getting out of a task he wasn't sure he wanted to try. I lowered the volume slightly and now we could hear murmurs from behind Greg and Denny's wall of straw bales.
"Guys, Mikey and I are going down to do chores...turn off the radio when you get done. Just bring down the bowl and wash-rag with you—everything else can stay as it is." Mikey ran back to get our bowl, then followed me down the ladder, nearly dumping the water on my head as he climbed down a bit shakily. While I took it from him and emptied it in the little bath room in the far corner, he stood uncertainly in the main aisle waiting for me to return. I went out to the rear door and whistled, the sign our cows knew meant it was time to come in for milking. I saw my boyfriends jaw drop when they wandered in, each going to her own stall. I grinned at him and told him that they could read their names on the open doors, but he just told me I was full of shit and followed me over to the spot where the milking supplies were kept.
I handed him a small pail, a large cloth and some liquid detergent. "We have to clean off the cows' udders before we milk them, otherwise stuff could get into the milk and we'd have to toss it out." I poured a little of the soap in, then handed the pail back to him. "Fill that about half-way, then come back to the first stall, and I'll show you everything you need to know about cows." While he was doing that, I got two of the zinc buckets and two three-legged stools set up at Bessie's stall. She was the most easy-going of our five, and would be a good girl to let Mikey practice on. I gave my elskede a smile when he came back with the cleaning pail, and moved him to Bessie's right flank. I'd already pulled down the fold-away stanchion which would hold her head still as we worked on her...an innovation far learned from Grandpa Voss.
"This is a cow, since she's calved, we can get milk from her. First rule: don't stand directly behind a cow or a mare...never forget that or you'll regret it." He scowled at me, like I was treating him like an idiot, but I'd rather have him learn this the easy way. "All the plumbing is at the back end...you might have a second's warning, or maybe not if they have to piss—their tails will raise up and move to the side, then it's too late to move. The tail could be trying to swat a fly, or moving for a leak...you don't want to wait to find out." I laughed when he stepped closer to me, so that I was slightly in front of him. I had his attention fully now.
"Rule two, watch your feet; if you get stepped on, it's gonna hurt. A horse can break your foot pretty easily—a cow can put you on crutches for a couple days until the bruising goes away. Rule three, they have personalities and brains, some more than others, they can have bad days, just like us..." I put my arm around him and gave him a squeeze to calm him down—he was looking worried, and that wasn't my plan at all—I wanted him to have fun with this. "When you come in to milk, speak softly to them, rub their flanks and pet them...before you start, blow on your fingers to warm them up...they don't like cold hands on their privates any more than we do."
I moved our stools closer to Bessie's right side, and we petted her and talked to her, Mikey was pretty self-conscious about it, but he did fine. I showed him how to wipe her udder and teats, then let him finish the job. Now came the fun part—his first time trying to get milk out of the source rather than a carton. I demonstrated the 'squeeze-pull' and was rewarded with a stream of milk into the bucket below, "Just like our other favorite liquid treat!" He glared at me for being so crude, but I heard him chuckle under his breath. "You'll get most of a bucket from each cow twice a day...they have to be done at the same schedule or it can get painful for them. Now, you try..."
I felt a whispery breath against my ear. "I think we need a schedule too, Jeepers...trying to catch up sure can be painful." I glanced at him real quick and caught his mischievous grin before I covered it with my kiss.
"During the summer, elskede—we'll have lots of time when you help us out with the farm work. I'll put it down on your list of chores." I was sitting right up against him, so I gave him another kiss before guiding his fingers to two of Bessie's teats with my hands, showing him how to knead her udder a bit to help her get started, and letting him get a feel for the process. You had to be gentle, but just pulling wouldn't get the milk out, you had to squeeze a bit to all the way down, sort of like getting toothpaste out of the tube, or cum out of your dick. Mikey gave a little triumphant yelp when the first spurts of creamy dairy goodness hit the bucket, and I gave him a big kiss. "Every few minutes, switch to the other two so she drains evenly. You're doing great, kæreste. If you think you're okay, I'll go start on Brigid." I could see a little worry in his eyes, and ruffled his hair to annoy him and take his mind off it, before moving my stool to the next stall. I glanced over to see him concentrating hard at his task, and whispered, "Remember to talk to her once in a while, it helps the milk flow when she's happy."
I finished with Brigid and was about to move to Berta when Greg and Denny came down the ladder from the hay-mow. I could see the grins on their faces, and more than a hint of red blush as they came over holding the bowl and rag. I pointed over to the corner bath, where they could empty the residue of their encounter and hang the things to dry. The two were holding hands when they came back, and Greg offered to take over the milking; since he was also in Vocational Agriculture, I let him, and went back to stand behind Mikey, letting my hands knead his muscled shoulders and neck. Over in Berta's stall, Greg was showing Denny how to milk, much as I'd shown Mikey, but I saw they were touching each other a bit more...taking advantage of this opportunity to cement their bond further.
As I turned back to my boyfriend, my now-hard dick rubbed the side of Mikey's cheek, and he leaned his head into it for a few seconds with a soft sigh. I glanced down between his legs and saw that the front of his jeans was awfully strained from what lay inside. I ran my right hand over his cheek and rubbed his shoulder just inside his shirt. "It happens to a lot of boys when they milk...I don't know if it ever does that to Far, but Jerry told me it happened to him all the time when he was learning, and it does the same to me." I looked at the bucket between Bessie's legs, and patted him on the back. "Good job—now we put it in the storage tank. You've milked your first cow, and did a wonderful job."
With the milk poured into the stainless steel storage tank, I took him over to Becky's stall and helped him clean and milk her. I could hear giggling and joking around from Berta's stall, so I guess our two friends were enjoying their go at farm life. I was about to ask if they were having any problems when they emerged from the stall, both sporting large hard-ons in their pants. I guess we all got a charge out of this most basic farm task. I showed them where to empty the bucket and how to clean it, then did our last cow, Beverly, myself. She could be difficult sometimes, and I didn't want anyone getting hurt. For once, she was in a good mood, and I finished quickly and the four of us went outside to fuss over Gulliver.
Mor served meatloaf for dinner, along with fried potatoes and green beans, and I wondered how they'd like it since she used her mother's recipe which had pieces of bacon in it, and the top was covered with bacon strips as well. I was glad to see she left out the carrots, since she knew I didn't like them...and from the smiles on Greg and Denny's faces, they loved the extra flavor and moistness the bacon gave it. There was brown gravy made from the drippings, which I put over the meat on my plate, but I saw Greg putting it on his potatoes too, as did Mikey. Far thanked all of us for doing the milking, and asked how we liked it, offering them the chore during the evening since we were going to be studying here anyway until school let out. Linda thanked Denny for giving her a ride, then disappeared into her room.
Dessert was lemon meringue pie, which we demolished like a swarm of locusts, then we went up to my room to do home-work. Behind my closed door, I was surprised when first Greg, then Denny came up and gave me a warm hug for giving them a place to be together today. I blushed and pointed at Mikey. "His idea, I just did the grunt work." I saw my boyfriend was very uncomfortable being singled out, but he accepted their hugs and said it was nothing. I handed him his bag and sprawled next to him on my bed, while our friends took their corners at the desk. From my vantage point, I could see their feet come together and start rubbing gently, and I lowered my calf so it rested on top of Mikey's. Like our friends', our own feet began a little dance.
Thanks to the holiday, we didn't have much work to cover, and a half hour saw us finish it, except for Mrs. Wilson's English project. Greg was lucky—Mrs. Orton didn't assign one beyond a final book report—one of their own choosing—and he rubbed our noses in it. "I want to know how you wound up in another section," Denny groused. "I heard Mrs. Orton was the toughest." Greg smirked at the three of us and packed his bag before setting it on the floor. In the process, he dislodged a folded newspaper and picked it up, casually glancing at the front page. I was involved with Mikey, so I hadn't noticed what was going on until I heard his surprised drawl.
"Shit-fire...this ain't the Nerk Advocate!" Denny leaned closer to see what he was looking at, confused by Greg's use of the county seat's shorter name. Most of us used it instead of the more proper Newark. "Where the fuck did y'all find a gay newspaper?"
I exchanged grins with Mikey, and he began telling them about last Saturday's visit to Eastland Mall, and our meeting with the two OSU freshmen. They both said 'cool' when he mentioned how Trebor preferred his name said that way, and were stunned when they heard the two were also gay, and lovers. I took up the story about sitting with them in the back of their van for a couple hours, drinking sodas and shooting the breeze about what it was like to be gay out west. I could see them practically drooling to see the Scooby Doo van, and to talk with actual gay people. "Dude, what do you think we are?" I pointed at each of us in turn. "We're gay, just like them."
I was surprised to see Mikey shake his head. "No, Jay...there's a big difference; they're adults, and have been living together for eight months now..." Greg and Denny nodded their heads emphatically to confirm this, but I wasn't getting it until Mikey went on. "Jay—they've done It—all we've done is jerk each other off, and traded blow jobs." He blushed furiously as he said those last two words under his breath, and now I got it. Having oral sex and everything else was just 'experimenting'...but if we went all the way and screwed someone, or got screwed ourselves, then that was a whole new kettle of fish. Doing that was a commitment to being queer, and you couldn't pass it off as just 'harmless fun' or 'helping a buddy out'...once you went all the way, you were GAY, in actual capital letters.
I took Mikey's hand in mine, and he turned to face me lying next to him. "Elskede," I pulled out my Pegasus from under my shirt, and held it so we could all see it. "...when we traded these, I made my choice forever...you are my lover, my soul, my husband in every way, spiritually, emotionally and physically. As long as you want me—even 'til we die—there is nothing I won't do for you, in bed or out. You are my One and Only." I watched in some trepidation as Mikey pulled out his silver oak, letting it join the charm in my hand before placing his hand on top so we held them together. The chains were stretched to their limit, so he leaned in and kissed me on the lips, squeezing my hand as he did so. When he drew back, his eyes were wet with tears.
"One and Only," he repeated to me, "Always and forever." I heard sniffling next to us, and turned blurry eyes toward Greg and Denny. They were holding hands, with their other arms around their shoulders, and both were crying fairly silently. We wiped our eyes and collected ourselves when Greg dropped to one knee, taking Denny's hands in his.
"I can't say it like Jay, but I feel the same way about you, Yank...one day I'll make an honest man of you and walk you down the aisle...but until then, there won't be anyone else for me." He rested his head in the runner's lap, and kissed their clasped hands. Denny pulled one free and ran it through Greg's red mane, trailing his fingers through the waves until he got a grip under the redhead's arm, pulling him up to sit on his lap.
"Reb, there won't be anyone else for me either...but it'll take me some time—"
Greg stopped his words by kissing him long and deep, and I could see the tension drain out of Denny's body under the gentle attentions of his boyfriend. At last, Greg pulled back, giving him a small smile. "Dr. Newton has a whole calendar of appointments to get you ready...as long as you need, I'll be patient and play doctor." He gave his curly-haired boyfriend an outrageous grin, and whispered something in his ear that we didn't catch, but caused Denny to blush deeper than my red tee-shirt.
Denny looked at Mikey, and mouthed 'sorry' before turning back to Greg. "Always and forever, Reb...you and me." Denny leaned over to pull a pillow from my bed, and drew Greg down onto the floor, where they began to quietly kiss one another. I pulled Mikey over to the far side of my bed to give them a little privacy, and we began our own make-out session. It was half an hour before I realized I hadn't called Dave and Trebor to set up arrangements for tomorrow night's movie. I pulled Mikey up and walked around the foot of the bed, averting my eyes from our two friends. "We're going downstairs to call the guys...then we'll watch TV with my folks for a while. You guys can have the room until you're done."
Mikey and I held hands going down the back stairs, and I poured a glass of iced tea for us to share before heading into the family room. Mor and Far were sitting on one of the couches watching CBS, and gave us warm smiles when we sat across from them on the other one. "Your friends make a nice couple too," far said in a mellow voice. "You know, they can come over any time, if they need a place to be together."
I was stunned, and couldn't find words for a minute, so my boyfriend took over. "Do you know how special you two are? You take me in because Jay convinced me to take a chance on love...and now you are offering the same to two more boys..."
"Søn," the older Beckel said with a smile, "love is hard enough without extra obstacles being put in the way. We've seen them studying with you, and they are both good boys. You two chose them as friends, and that's good enough for Rosalie and me to like them too."
The opening theme of The Waltons came from the television, and we paused to see which episode it was before mor added her own words to what my father had said. "Are there any other boys who need help studying?"
I was still trying to gather my thoughts, so Mikey handed me the glass of tea, which I gulped down. He frowned when I gave it back to him empty, then muttered 'pig' under his breath as he went to refill it. I heard ice clinking and other sounds coming from the kitchen, then I looked sheepishly at my parents.
"Go on...who else do you have in mind?" I had never been able to put anything over on my father, not in all my seventeen years. Mikey came back with the tea, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. He offered them to my parents first, who each took one before waving him back to my side with big grins. My boyfriend's addiction to mor's cookies was no longer a secret...he filched a couple whenever he was over, and she'd begun making a few extra in each batch just for him.
"Just two more," I said guiltily. "Ben and Calvin. They met last fall, but only sorted things out this morning...I guess they both sort of gave up, thinking the other was straight."
Without bothering to exchange glances, mor shook her head sadly. "Then we'll see them Monday after school for dinner." Mikey looked at me, and I shrugged. It was clear that neither of my parents made the connection between this Ben and Linda's Ben. I was debating whether to tell them when I caught Mikey's evil grin...and returned it. I didn't get a chance to surprise my parents often, and this one would be a dilly.
I ate cookies with Mikey until the plate was empty, and took it with me into the kitchen. "I'm going to call Dave about the movie tomorrow night." I washed the plate and put it in the rack before checking Dave's number where I'd tacked it to the bulletin board by the fridge. I picked up the black receiver and dialed, listening to the clicks in the ear-piece as the wheel circled back for me to do the next number. For a minute, I wondered if it was too late to call them, and I almost hung up, but the third ring cut off and I heard a cheery voice sing out "Dude—lay it on me!"
I was pretty sure this was Trebor's voice—it was more jovial than Dave's had been during most of our first meeting. "Um, Treb? It's Jay...we met Saturday at the mall. Me and Mikey hung out with you in your van..."
A loud laugh cut me off. "Little dude, how's your friend, the long drink of water?" Since it was after 8P.M., I wondered if he and Dave had smoked any of their stash to unwind...I remembered them saying they did it about once a week, but didn't know which night was 'the night'.
"I'm calling to see if the movie tomorrow night is still on...and where it's at so we'll know where to meet you." I knew a few places in town on the east side, but not much about OSU campus. The only thing I was sure of about the University area was that parking was impossible in the Fall on home game Saturdays. Jerry told me that when he went to a Buckeyes game with a few friends, and swore he'd never go again.
"Sure, Jay—we can't wait to go...you guys'll be staying over since the movie won't be done until 2A.M. You know OSU at all?" The connection was a little staticky, but I didn't know if that was Ma Bell's fault or his room's phone.
"Not really, about all I know is Eastland and Northland Malls; I thought we'd meet you there like last week, around 7:30 or 8P.M." I paused to take a drink of tea and continued. "My dad wants to know if there's a safe place to park at your dorm."
I heard a brief scuffle, and then Dave's voice took over. "Sorry, Jay...Treb had to go to the restroom. You asked about parking? Treb has a relative who lives a few blocks away, and we park there...she said we could have you park there for one night too, then we will walk back to our dorm room."
I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned my head expecting to get a kiss from Mikey, but I saw far standing there instead with his hand out. I was relieved that Dave was on now, since he was more serious, and I knew he would make a better impression. "Dave, my dad wants to talk with you...Okay, here he is."
I went to get more tea from the fridge, and drank it nervously by the sink as I listened in to our end of the conversation. Everything seemed to be going well until I heard my dad say sternly, "I trust my boys, Dave, but I don't know you, so here's my rule for tomorrow night: there will be no drug or alcohol use until you boys are back home from the movie, no exceptions, no second chances. Beer is fine, or if they want to try your pot—but only once you are in for the night. I trust their judgment, and they've sworn to follow that rule at all times—no driving, or being driven—until the next day when the effects have worn off and they've rested. Do I need to tell you what will happen if I find out you pressured them to do otherwise?" Far listened for a few minutes, nodding and making occasional replies before he concluded. "Then I'll see you Saturday afternoon for dinner..."
I just gaped at him as he put the receiver back on the phone before turning to face me. "They'll be coming home with you so we can meet them. Dave told me that his father gave them the same lecture before they came to Columbus, and he was the one who offered to come out for a visit." From his expression, I could tell that the Californian had made a good first impression. I was brought fully back to my senses by a shout from the foot of the back stairs. I turned to see Greg and Denny standing there in their stocking feet with huge grins on their flushed faces.
"Cool—we get to see the Scooby van!"
* * * * * * * * * *
I tried sneaking in through the front hall, but it didn't work. Despite trying to open the door slowly to keep the sleigh bell hanging from a nail on its top silent, but its tinkling brought Finn's head poking out from the kitchen. I could smell the pungent aroma of chili simmering on the stove. Before I could head upstairs, he came up to me and pulled my jacket open, exposing my naked torso. "Care to explain this, young man? I recall a shirt on there this morning."
"Shut up, Finn...I tore it in gym class." I put my books down and went into the kitchen to lift the lid off the big pot on the stove. Reddish-brown liquid was faintly bubbling, and the scent of chili powder intensified. I took the wooden spoon and dipped out just enough to taste. The beans weren't done, but the hamburger had been nicely browned before Finn added it. The broth was thickening and would be perfect when it was done. "Needs a little more garlic powder, and a tad more minced onion." My younger brother took his own taste from the spoon and I watched him sprinkle in a bit more of both before replacing the lid and checking that the flame wasn't too high for a slow simmer.
"I'm not buying it, Benj. You'd have changed into your other shirt if it happened in gym..." His eyes widened when he caught a glimpse of the waistband of Cal's Army briefs. "Holy shit, you're wearing some other guy's underwear!" I sighed as he followed me to my attic room, pestering me with questions the whole way up two flights of stairs.
He dropped down on my bed as I took off my shoes and searched my dresser for another shirt, then a pair of my own briefs from the top drawer. I was hoping he'd leave, but he just stared as I took off my jeans and snickered at the strange pair of shorts that were a little snug on me. "Look, I don't have time to give all the gory details—I talked to him this morning, then helped him with a photo project after school...there was an accident in the photo lab, and I had to borrow his shorts since the gym was locked by that time. I'm having dinner with him and his grandma at 6P.M., and I need to shower...so will you please fuck off?"
Finn leaned up on one elbow to stare at my bulge. "One question first—did you get lucky?" I gave him the bird for the second time today and grabbed my towel and fresh briefs to head down to the shower. I could hear his laughter behind me before I shut the door. "I guess that's a 'No'?"
I hurried in the shower, soaping and rinsing as fast as I could, and using my best cologne once I got out...Aramis. I brushed my teeth, and decided I didn't have time for a shave; I didn't want to show up late and have Callie worry that I wouldn't be coming over. In my mirror, I looked pretty good with my toned and balanced muscles defining my upper body and thighs...just right for my height since I didn't want to be a slab of meat. I pulled on my dark blue briefs and sat on the bed to pull on white tube socks, and then I saw that Finn had laid out a different outfit than the one I'd picked for myself: charcoal-grey chinos, and a button-up oxford shirt which matched the green of my eyes. I skipped the grey tie in favor of a silver chain for my neck, and was grabbing my letter jacket to head downstairs, but in its place was my dark grey suit jacket...my sneakers were gone too, and I saw my black dress shoes instead.
I walked into the kitchen and turned in a circle for my 'baby' brother's inspection. "Do I pass?" His lighter green eyes took me in from head to toe and he smirked when he saw I'd gone for the chain instead of the tie he'd picked. He adjusted my jacket a bit so it rode evenly on my shoulders, then his hands came to the front of my shirt and undid the second button, giving the chain full view. He stepped back and tilted his head before undoing the third button on my shirt, which now had my chest exposed to a point between my pecs. Nothing too risqué was on view, so I got his nod of approval.
Finn gave me a small shove toward the front door, and his chuckle followed me out. "If I weren't your brother—go get 'em, Tiger." Sometimes I wasn't sure about my brother; I had no spies in his class, so I didn't know whether he was interested in any girls, though he enjoyed the 'Club' meetings every week or so. He certainly had better fashion sense than I did—but so did almost everybody else in school. Kate was going to give mom and dad grandkids one day, but I didn't know what they'd think if both their sons turned out to be queer.
I told them about my doubts while dating Linda Beckel, and then when I broke up with her, I told them I was into boys, without going into the details of my past experiences with the Club and Greg. I was a bit surprised when Mom took it a little harder than Dad—he'd always been my rock, and even this didn't shake him...but all Mom was concerned about was that I was sure. Once I convinced her it was how I'd always felt deep down, she hugged me and told me to take my time to find the right guy, as she'd done with Dad. That thought had me grinning insanely as I drove up York Road to Calvin's place. Calvin was my Mr. Right—I just hoped I was his.
I was a little surprised when Mrs. Schuyler opened the door instead of Calvin. She was wiping her hands on a towel, and gave me a smile as she stepped aside to let me in. "Callie's in the shower—he'll be out in a few minutes. If you want to sit in the parlor, that's fine...or you can sit in the kitchen as I do the finishing touches."
I waved her on into the kitchen and watched as she began frying chicken in a big iron skillet; each piece was dipped in milk, then seasoned flour before entering the hot oil in the pan. She turned each piece at intervals, and soon the sizzle of the oil and the smell of frying meat filled the large room. I saw a pot on a back burner that held green beans, and I smelled roasting potatoes somewhere, and traced it to the oven. I saw some tomatoes on the counter, along with a head of red cabbage and another of lettuce. A carrot lay on a small wooden cutting board, only partially shaved into thin strips. I wondered if it was Calvin's job to do the salad, so since he was busy in the shower, I went up to the counter and picked up the carrot and metal peeler next to it—in short order I had a mound of shredded carrot, and scooped it into a waiting salad bowl. Next, cored the lettuce and cabbage, then removed the outer leaves before rinsing them. I found a large knife in the dish rack and quartered the lettuce before shredding it into small irregular pieces by hand. I quartered the harder head of cabbage and began slicing the sections so that they fell into long thin strips like an onion might. All this time, Beth was taking short glances in my direction and nodding occasionally.
"Do you have any oil, lemon juice, garlic and oregano? I thought I'd do a dressing for the salad..." I gave her a shy smile when she produced the ingredients, even giving me olive oil rather than vegetable oil...that was much better for this Greek-style vinaigrette. Seeing the largish bowl of salad, I made a guess as to the amount of liquid needed, and used about a quarter cup of the oil and juice, then added a teaspoon each of the two spices. "Do you have a whisk so I can mix it?"
"Why not just shake it in a bottle?" She handed me the whisk and I began to beat the dressing so that the oil would be broken down enough to keep from separating, and I explained that to her, and received another approving nod in return. She'd been testing me. I poured the mix into the green glass container she set on the counter, then asked if I could do anything else to help. She pointed to a cupboard above the sink and asked if I'd set the table in the dining room. I got down three dinner plates, salad plates and glasses, all in a rose-patterned pink Depression glass. "I sit at the end of the table near the kitchen, you can place your plates to either side of me...the other end is where Piet sat."
The dining room was furnished with a mahogany table, six chairs and a serving board. Another door-less arch led to the foyer, and the walls were painted a dusty rose color with various landscape prints hanging in groups. The floor was covered with a white and lavender oriental rug. I made quick work of setting out the plates, then returned to gather the silverware from the kitchen, the handles were decorated with roses too, and then I set out large stemmed water goblets. When I entered the kitchen on my last trip, Calvin came in the door from the hall, and let out a yelp when he saw me in my dressy outfit. I smirked at him in his fatigue pants and olive drab tee-shirt.
"What'd you dress up for? It's just dinner!" Before I could answer, he ducked back into the hall and I heard footsteps running up the stairs two at a time. I was debating about going after him, but I felt his grandmother place a hand on my shoulder to pull me back to the kitchen counter. She gave me a quick smile and patted me on the arm before we were interrupted by a call from upstairs. "Grandma!"
"Watch the chicken, Ben. I'll be right back," and she hurried out the door into the hall. The 'right back' turned into nearly ten minutes, and I began transferring chicken parts to the paper towels laid out to soak up the grease before moving them onto a serving platter. The last pieces went for their final turn before I heard noises coming down the stairs and Mrs. Schuyler came back in, followed by Calvin. I could tell he was torn between his desire to look at me as much as he could, and a need to avoid being seen by me at the same time.
Calvin was dressed in a red button-down shirt and black jeans, and I caught red socks lurking in the gap between his pant legs and the tops of his oxblood loafers. When I finally captured his gaze, he was blushing almost as deep as his shirt. I felt bad at having dressed up for him because he'd had a growth spurt since he last wore this outfit—the shirt was tight across his shoulders and the pants were nearly an inch too short. My arms ached to reach out and hold him to me, and I actually began to reach for him, but covered it by adjusting the chicken in the skillet with the tongs in my hand. "You look great, Callie—I set the table, so you get to pour drinks for us. Milk is good for me." As Beth pulled the roasted potatoes from the oven—I'd already turned off the flame under the beans—I mouthed 'I love you,' to him and got a beautiful smile in return.
Dinner was a bit weird at first, since I was a stranger, but Cal's grandmother was soon drawing me out of myself, and complimented me on my salad dressing, a perfect blend of tartness to go with the salad greens and quarters of tomato I'd added at the last minute. The potatoes were sprinkled with parmesan cheese and rosemary, and the chicken had to be the best I'd ever had thanks to some spice I couldn't put a name to. The beans were tender but not soggy and tasted faintly of bacon, and were obviously from their own garden. Callie was fascinated to hear that I could cook, and his jaw dropped when I told him I was taking Home Economics as my elective this semester. "Dad and mom both like to cook, and they're teaching all three of us kids to fend for ourselves once we're out on our own. I love to cook, and I'm trying to work on my baking skills."
Cal's grandmother offered to show me some tips next time I came over, and I thanked her and said if I could make her chocolate cake I could die a happy man. That got a laugh from all of us, and I helped clear the table so the remainder of this afternoon's cake could be served. My eyes moved from my plate to Cal's eyes every time I took a bite and licked my lips in pleasure at the chocolaty decadence. He blushed every time, and began telling his grandma about the photography project I'd helped him with this afternoon...but he left out all the hot details. It didn't matter though because I was rock hard just thinking about what we'd done as his prints were soaking. He had to repeat his question as to whether or not I had a camera...then I remembered he'd told Mr. Philips that I was going to learn to take pictures too.
I offered to help with cleaning the dishes, but Beth waved both of us off to go do home-work or something while she did the dishes and watched an hour or two of television before heading up to bed. I took the opportunity to stand up and follow Cal while Beth was in the kitchen, and Callie gave me a quick grope and a snicker when my bulge was so obscenely obvious. I stayed close behind him until we got to the stairs, where he took my hand to lead the way. Framed photographs lined the upstairs hall, mostly family I guessed, though there were gaps where now-missing pieces had once hung. I shot him a glance, but he just went into the first door on the right and pulled me in after him. My eyes widened when I got my first view of his room.
"Wow!" The wall opposite the door we came in held two tall windows, but all the remaining space there was covered in bookshelves—all of them packed. The right-hand wall had an open closet door at the far end, and a desk and dresser with more photos on the wall above them. The left-hand wall had another door down near the windows, and a full-sized antique bed with a rumpled dark green spread. On the wall between the entry and the left wall were more shelves of books. The pine floor was polished and covered by a rag rug. The desk held an old typewriter and a couple cameras, and a framed photo of his grandmother and a man who was clearly her late husband.
I got my biggest shock yet when Callie pulled me over to the bed so he could shut the door into the hall...on the inside of it was a huge poster-sized photo of—me! I was standing in a semi-crouch, half-facing the camera with my hands raised to grapple someone in a wrestling move. I was wearing the school's outfit of a golden yellow athletic shirt, shorts and black tights; my feet were encased in the heelless white ankle-boots regulations called for, with yellow-striped tube socks covering my calves over the tights. Somehow, Cal had captured that moment just before the match began when my eyes were twinkling in the anticipation and the thrill of the coming bout.
"Cal...?" I was trying to figure out what that picture meant, so words weren't easy for me right then—but they didn't have to be, as I soon found out. I heard the latch on the door click as my new boyfriend turned to approach me. He rubbed his hands together like some evil genius and dropped to his knees in front of me. He untied and pulled off each of my dress shoes before massaging my feet and licking the white socks with his tongue, and I couldn't repress a little jerk and giggle when it tickled my instep. His hands traveled up my calves to circle my knees and rest on my thighs. His light green eyes bored into mine, and my throat went dry as his hands began to rub the tops of my legs, moving closer and closer to my straining crotch.
He rose up on his knees and his hands moved to my shirt, my jacket was on the back of his desk chair where he'd put it when I cam inside the room. His nimble fingers drew shivers on my chest as one slipped into my half-open shirt, and the other pried my buttons open and pulled the tails out of my pants. Callie leaned in and kissed my nipples as my shirt fell from my shoulders to the bed, and trailed between them and my navel, licking and nibbling the entire time. "What about your grandmother?"
Kisses were planted up my chest to my neck, and Cal paused to examine the mark he'd made there earlier...it had faded a tiny bit, so he sucked on that spot again and bit into it enough that the hickey would be noticeable tomorrow if anyone got a chance to see under my collar. "She'll fall asleep watching the news, and I'll wake her before I go to bed so she can turn in as usual." He grinned evilly as he worked his way up to my ears. "You'll just have to try not to be too loud."
I moaned when Cal's tongue pushed its way into my ear and began to trace the hollows there, and I felt his hands drop to my waist. I heard the sound of my belt being undone and it dropped to the floor. He rubbed steadily at my bulging crotch as he pretended to have trouble opening my pants, but I knew he was doing it to drive me crazy. I was as hard as I'd been in the darkroom at school, and when Cal pulled my pants open, his lips fastened on the shaft in my blue briefs, adding to the growing wetness there from my pre-cum. I groaned when he eased my pants down to my knees, and then stopped. I stared as he stood in front of me and cupped his own crotch. "You can remove one item of clothing from me, then I have a surprise for you." He stood there fully dressed in his jeans and red shirt, and I saw he still had on his loafers. I chose to remove his shoes, figuring that was two-for-the-price-of-one, and massaged his red-clad feet as he'd done mine, but I licked part-way up his calves, as well as his insteps.
Cal's fingers worked into my black hair and traced the shape of my skull before pulling me gently to my feet to receive a hard, soul-exploring kiss. He went over to his closet and removed a small package, then walked across the room to the third door, which I now saw led into a bathroom. He turned at the door before going in. "While I'm getting ready, take off your pants, but leave the socks and those hot briefs on. You can play with yourself as much as you want, but don't cum."
I sank down onto his double bed so I could see the bathroom door, but not inside that hidden space. He did a little running commentary while he was in there, and I heard shuffling noises and running water, and the sound of a toothbrush being used, then spitting. More water sounds, and then the toilet flushed. All this time, articles of his clothing would appear from the doorway to land on the floor near his windows...first the red shirt, then the belt...then the black jeans. My dick was hard as it had ever been, and my briefs were now even darker blue where my rod continued to soak them in its quest for freedom. I almost came when a pair of olive briefs flew out...he was now naked, and I was almost gasping for air as I thought of taking that solid toned body into my arms, and that big dick into my mouth.
"Close your eyes, Benny. There's one more thing before the surprise...take off your briefs and hold out your hands once I come into the room...and you must keep your eyes closed until I say you can open them. Okay?"
I could barely whisper my agreement, what with the anticipation building in me, but I managed it, and I screwed my eyes up tight until they began to ache. I wasn't going to ruin Callie's surprise for anything...no matter how much I was dying to find out what it was. I'd find out in a few seconds—if I lived that long.
I heard his socks on the wooden floor coming closer, and I felt his hands run down my chest to my cock, which was standing at a forty-five degree angle and as wet as if I'd already shot my load—but I hadn't...yet. I felt his lips on the tip and his tongue made one swipe to clean the jizz off, then his hands raised one of my legs at a time, and I felt some soft fabric make its way up my legs, aided by his fingers. It felt like some sort of sexy underwear, but I'd had those on already, so why did he want me to take them off? "Raise your arms a bit away from your sides..." More questing fingers, then I felt fabric at my shoulders as his fingers tweaked my nipples until I was moaning heavily. One of his hands adjusted my dick in the new underwear so it was pointing straight up, and the fabric did nothing to try to conceal its hard steeliness.
I was now dressed in whatever type of underwear Callie had put on me, and my long white socks. I felt almost naked, and that made my dick drool even more, knowing he was watching me with those hungry green eyes. I heard him back up a few steps, and I turned to face the direction his voice came from.
"After four months, I finally have a use for these...open your eyes, Benny."
It took a few seconds for the scene to register, and when it did, I saw Cal standing next to his bathroom door, open to reveal a full-length mirror. He was wearing his red socks and one of those new snug-fitting nylon-wrestling singlets that some schools now used instead of the separate shirts and shorts with tights the rest of us wore in competition. Cal's dick looked fucking huge as it snaked upward toward his belly-button, obviously not hampered by any sort of underwear. His nipples were blatantly hard at the sides of the garment's shoulder straps. His grin grew even more evil and wide when he gave a slight nod toward the mirror, and I saw my own reflection for the first time.
Callie had put one of those singlets on me—so we were both wearing only those smoking hot uniforms and socks...except mine was red, and far snugger than his. I was a whole weight-class higher than him, so it stretched just enough to fit, but I might as well have been wearing a coat of paint for all it concealed. The spots where our dicks were pinned were already getting wet from pre-cum, and we hadn't even touched each other yet.
Calvin walked up to me, his hands on his hips, shoulder muscles rippling, and tilted his head just enough to meet my eyes. The lust was a smoldering fire in their emerald depths, and I knew this was going to be something I'd never forget. He pulled my head down and forced his tongue into my mouth, and I felt my knees weaken as my breath caught in my throat. He nipped my lower lip as he pulled back.
"Standard positions and no holds barred. Three pins out of five wins. A pin is both shoulders to the floor for a three count." I nodded my agreement, and wondered about the 'no-holds-barred' statement since wrestling had a wide variety of holds and ways to use them. I got a little clearer idea of what he meant with his next statement. We did rock-paper-scissors for lower position, and I lost.
"Down on all fours, Benny...tonight's loser gets fucked by the winner—and that's going to be me. Now, assume the position."
His hot boner planted itself against my left butt-cheek and his arms went around my upper body as I braced myself. There was no way I was going to last to the end without blowing my load in this fucking sexy gear!
"On your mark...GO!" And the battle was on.
Send comments to email@example.com
Original chapters with pictures are here: GayAuthors.org/Jay & Miles
Please donate to Nifty.org so it may continue to support new authors.