Date: Mon, 13 Sep 2004 07:01:41 -0400
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 21

OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 21

Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult
male and young male teenagers.  Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is
neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses
on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere
suggestion of sex.  If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction,
there are fine examples of each on Nifty.  Something slightly different is
required here.

However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly
fictional.  Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  Further, this is homoerotic
fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature,
adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in
power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would
create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally,
remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex
is sheer insanity!

Thank you, Ed C., for your devoted help on this section of the story!

This Part is for Michael.


PART 21

(Revisiting the End of Part 20)

On the return trip, Andreas shyly (and rather hesitantly) reminded Sam that
he was a "forest boy" and wondered if Sam would be "disappointed" if they
left the city "soon" to enjoy some country.  "Disappointed?  Hell no, Andy!
As a matter of fact, we leave for some of the most beautiful country in the
world tomorrow morning!"  Having accepted the use of a family car for the
trip, Sam sat in the driver's seat the next morning as Andreas talked with
his father in the open doorway.  His hands on the boy's shoulders, Sam
watched his father reach down into a pocket and give him a small, paper
envelope.  So surprised was he by what happened next, he actually forgot to
ask Andy about the packet.  Not quite believing his eyes, he saw them
spontaneously embrace before his love trotted down the steps towards the
car.  Waving, they left for another grand adventure.  (What wondrous things
had happened to his life from the very first day that Andreas entered it!)

(Continuing Our Story: The Coast of Maine)

US-1 (north) was slow coming out of Boston and it slowed still more as they
had to go right through the middle of every village and, worse, larger
towns such as Newburyport in Massachusetts and Portsmouth in New Hampshire.
On several occasions, Andreas would gladly have settled for a good old
Autobahn! Then, too, it was the middle of July, the war was over (at least
for Americans), people had more money, and they were vacationing!  Once
they crossed the Piscataqua (pronounced: pis-CAT-uh-kwuh) River into the
State of Maine, however, they only had to drive a few miles before the
"feeling" of the trip changed...completely and almost magically.  Now - and
almost all the way into Portland, where they would stay the night - the air
was cooler, the sky was brighter and filled with scudding clouds, they
heard the constant cries of gulls, and the smell of the sea filled their
nostrils.  Often they were right next to the water.  Andy lay his head back
on the seat, breathed in deeply, and placed his hand softly on Sam's thigh.
"You said it was beautiful, Sam, and it sure is!" he breathed.

It wasn't long before they entered Portland and found their hotel in the
center of town.  Inasmuch as the hotel's restaurant specialized in seafood
- and Mr. Peters had indicated that the walk down to the docks could be
just a bit "dangerous" - they remained at the hotel for dinner.  Sam
laughingly said that if Andy had liked the trip from the Piscataqua, he
would like New England seafood even more!  Really wanting a thick American
steak, Andy went along with the "Combination Seafood Platter."  When it
came - loaded with clams, oysters, cod, scallops, and several other unknown
piscatorial "things," in addition to "French fries" and cole slaw that he
loved - he looked first at his plate and then at several other plates on
nearby tables.  "Sam," he whispered, how in hell can one person eat all of
this?  In Tieferwald, it would feed six people!"  "That's ok, Big Guy.
Here, give me half of it!"  As Sam passed his plate across the table, Andy
gave him a dirty look and surrendered one French fry.  "Thanks, Andy!" Sam
remarked...with a twinkle in his eye!

The young man really liked the steamers, the cod was pronounced "great,"
and the scallops weren't "half-bad."  He even got the fried oysters down
without too much of a struggle.  Then, however, he came to the raw oysters.
After Sam had demonstrated how to prepare them with lemon juice and salt,
Andy picked one up with his fork, and looked at it dubiously.  Brave to the
end, he popped it into his mouth.  Suddenly, his face turned green - and it
appeared that he was having a panic attack.  When he began to choke and
cough, Sam quickly moved behind him and started pounding his broad back...
right between the shoulders.  The "attack" soon ended as Andy spat
something into his napkin.  "Good God, Sam," he whined, "that tasted like
something out of the gall bladder of a Danube water monster!"  Noticing
that people were looking at him, he suddenly began blushing.  Sam commented
later that evening that the red and green blotches were spectacular, but it
occurred to him that the Christmas Season still lay five months in the
future!  (Andreas threw a pillow at him.)  Carefully avoiding the remaining
oysters (which Sam consumed with great gusto), the youngster moved directly
to the pride of all New Englanders...dessert!  Seconds later, wiping his
mouth and patting his belly, he pronounced the strawberry shortcake the
very best he had ever eaten.  (Sam inquired when he had ever eaten
strawberry shortcake, but only received another dirty look for his
troubles.)

After walking around the block (three times!), the young men returned to
their hotel room.  It was late and they were both bone-tired.  As they
stripped and prepared for bed, Sam noticed that Andreas kept looking at
him...strangely.  "What's up, Big Guy?" he asked.  Andreas, now completely
in the nude, sidled up to him, began twining 'round his body, and quickly
SHOWED him "what was up!".  "Andy..." Sam remonstrated.  "I'm sorry, Sam,
but I've just got to have some.  Do you realize that the only sex we've had
since leaving Tieferwald was last night when you did a little weak
sucking...without saying a word?  Man, I'm beginning to think that I'm
preparing to become a nun!"  Remembering what it was like to be 17, Sam
took mercy on his hunky young lover and put him into a "low doggie"
position.  If there were a square millimeter on the back of his genitals,
his perineum, or his crack that didn't receive a real "tongue lickin', it
surely wasn't because Sam was planning to enter a monastery!  When Sam
began seriously to eat his anus and probe a bit when the opportunity
presented itself, Andy began to moan musically, as was his wont when he was
really becoming aroused.  "Would you like to take me, babe? Sam whispered.
"Not tonight, lover - but soon.  Take me...on my back, please.  I want to
see you."

Sam got him turned over, made good use of a spare pillow, and began
thoroughly lubricating his anus - which HADN'T seen much action lately.
Andreas's music kept coming, filling the room with its strangeness.  "Andy,
what is that you're...singing?" Sam asked as he kept working goo deep into
the lad's anal canal.  "It's the song of horny wolves in the deep forests
of Slovakia, lover.  Be real careful - they have very sharp fangs!" Andy
answered, his eyes closed, but the hint of an eerie grin on his lips.
Lubing his cock, Sam positioned it at the teen's portal...and pushed.  Like
old times, he bottomed out on his first try.  "Oh, yeah, Sam, oh, yeah!"
Andreas purred.  As Sam picked up the pace, the lad began writhing under
him in a way that he hadn't for some time.  The pace and force increasing,
his prostrate under constant stimulation, his contortions became even
wilder until his balls began to draw up in their long sack.  Just before he
shot, he raised his torso and sank his teeth into Sam's lower neck!
"OW-W-W-W!"  Sam yelled.  They both came in buckets on the spot!  "What was
that all about, Andy?" he asked later, still in some pain and fingering the
depression on his neck.  "Just remember not to wait so long next time,
Samuel!" the boy said calmly.  "The wolves don't take over unless I am
really, really horny."  "Great," Sam retorted, "but I'll damned well ask
next time!"  (Could he really have detected a momentary red glow deep in
the boy's eyes?  Nah...that couldn't be!  Still, how much interbreeding HAD
gone on in the Slovakian forests over the centuries?)

As they lay kissing and snuggling for the next half hour, Andreas finally
whispered to his love, "Sam would you mind terribly if I called your
parents 'Mom' and 'Dad'?  Those are the American terms, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are the American terms, and it would make me very happy if you
used them.  They have the same kinds of feeling towards you, you know."
Andy shook his head affirmatively.  "I do have to tell you one thing,
though.  You can't expect me to act like a traditional brother!"  Rising on
one elbow, the teen looked down at Sam questioningly.  Then, he "got it,"
collapsed back onto the bed in quiet laughter, turned over, and was asleep
within seconds.  Sam spent a few more minutes gently rubbing the muscled
reverse side of his boy's smooth body from his neck to the tops of his
thighs, as well as toying with the back of his prodigious sack and balls,
before he, too, slipped into a deep and contented sleep.

Andreas always said that the next day's drive up the Maine Coast from
Portland to Rockland and then on to Belfast on Penobscot Bay was something
that he would remember as long as he lived.  Sam explained that this was
what was known as the Mid-Coast region, a region that had been one of the
flashpoints of French and English struggles for North America.  Hence, the
area was dotted with old forts, sites of massacres by Indian tribes, the
remnants of Maine's great wooden shipbuilding industry, and, of course,
even if in the mid distance, the sea and rivers such as the Androscoggin
and the Kennebec that eventually ran into it.  Here was Brunswick, the town
that was home to Bowdoin (pronounced BOE-din) College.  "If you remember
Captain Paul Donahue from over at the Base, the man who helped us set up
our ski trip," Sam commented, "came from Brunswick and went to Bowdoin."

"Are we going to stop here for an early lunch?" Andreas asked.  "No,
Captain Donahue is still on duty in Germany.  Since we're just about
through the most populous section of the Mid-Coast, we'll go a bit further
and have lunch with one of my college friends who has a farm on the way
down from Wiscasset to Boothbay Harbor."  "Strange names," said Andreas.
"Yep," Sam replied, "most are either English or Indian with a sprinkling of
French."  Andreas thought that the lovely old villages through which they
had been driving were just as distinctive in their own way as the villages
of Germany.  It wasn't long after they crossed the Sheepscot River at
Wiscasset and left US-1 to turn south that they came to Caleb Clapp's farm.

It turns out that Caleb had been one of Sam's roommates at Dartmouth and
their greeting was that of old friends who hadn't seen each other for some
time.  "Well, Major, you appear to be doin' right well - even if you are
still a mite puny," the bearded giant drawled.  "Yeah, Caleb, and you still
look as if you couldn't fit into either chair or bed - even though I bet
you'd still be a terror on the football field," Sam answered.  "You still
growin' chickens and cats?" he continued.  The typically laconic Down East
"Ye-epp..." was answer enough.

Andreas left the two friends to reminisce and walked around the farm.  He
still couldn't quite believe the color of the sky, or the soft feeling of
the air that always seemed to carry a hint of salt.  He walked through the
high grass which waved gently in the coastal breeze until, that is, he felt
something - well, LOTS of somethings - curling around his ankles.  He
looked down to see some VERY strange looking felines: long-haired
(especially around the neck and towards the rear), big, heavily haired
ears, absolutely enormous feet, and eyes that were not only big and
expressive, but seemed...friendly.  Lying down in the grass, he soon had
kittens climbing all over him and, more, several adults who were just plain
BIG.  Hearing Sam's shout, he headed back to the simple wooden house, three
kittens still clinging to his clothes and one of the biggest adults under
his arm, purring up a storm.  "Oh, yeah," Caleb greeted them, "I though
Joshua would find you!  He the daddy of most of the cats you have seen."
What kind of cat is he?" Andy asked.  "We-ell, it's called a 'Maine Coon
cat 'round these parts," Caleb answered.  "See the light rings around its
bushy tail?  Some folks think that they look like raccoon markings."
Taking Josh and carefully removing the kittens after unhooking their claws,
he added, "Come on in, Andy, and sit a-piece.  Lunch is on the table.
"Mr. Clapp, I always thought cats were pretty aloof," Andreas ventured.
"The name's 'Caleb,' and don't let their friendly manner deceive you," his
host replied.  "These are real northern predators who hunt outside at -20
(degrees Fahrenheit, -29 degrees Celsius).  I have a lot of chickens on my
farm and I don't want varmints scurrying around and passing on fleas and
diseases that can wipe out a flock.  With these cats, I have damned few!"
One of the kittens had slowly climbed back up Andreas and sat on his
shoulder, batting at his hair.  As Andy slowly turned his head, the kitten
- Nathan, by name - looked right into his eyes and emitted a high-pitched
little chirp.  "Ye-epp, real predators," Andy mumbled to himself.

After a delightful lunch of fried chicken, fresh farm vegetables, and
strawberry shortcake - which Andy had to admit was even better than the
night before - Sam and his boy were quickly back on the trail towards
Penobscot Bay.  They drove through small town after town until they
suddenly came to Rockland, a town at the very foot of the giant bay formed
by glaciation and the Penobscot River that drained wilderness regions far
to the north in the Maine Woods.  Andy couldn't believe the 'blueness' of
the water that stretched to the horizon.  Nor could he believe the scores
of yachts (which the boy carefully, if smirkingly, pronounced 'yarts') and
other boats that filled the harbor called "Catawamkeag" (pronounced
kat-uh-WAHM-keg, the great landing place) by the Indians.  It was truly a
magical sight - and Sam couldn't pry Andreas loose for a good hour.

Finally, almost by force, Sam loaded Andy into the car and then turned
northeast up the Bay - through the lovely old town of Camden and on into
Belfast.  Hugging the water for the entire way as it made its way through
great evergreen forests, US-1 offered spectacular views of the many islands
that dotted the Bay. After supper, the duo was happy to crash into bed.
Already twilight when they arrived, it had been a long day's drive.
Scarcely turning over, they feel into a deep slumber.  Laughingly, Sam had
earlier warned Andy that the Maine air DID things to city people.  "Yeah,
Sam," Andy had grunted, "it smells almost like home...with a little salt."

"Rise and shine, Sunshine!" Sam shouted at what had to be a wicked early
hour.  Today we see something spectacular!"  Ready to agree with his lover
- if he didn't push too hard - that EVERYTHING on the Maine Coast was
"spectacular," Andy groaned and complained that he just had to sleep
for...another ten minutes.  Suddenly finding himself on his backside on the
floor, he grudgingly "agreed" that it was time to get up.  Moving as if in
a fog, he followed his rock-hard cock into the bathroom, finally relieved
himself, and joined Sam in the shower.  Still half asleep, he stood with
his back to his lover, stretching luxuriously as Sam's soapy hands caressed
his biceps, his pecs, his abs, and his lower stomach.  'Oh, man,' he
thought, 'what a way to get up in the morning!'  Given the fact that his
lover was definitely "up," Sam dropped to his knees and helped his
sleepyhead to turn around.  Inhaling the lad's long, thick cock to its
base, drawing it far into his throat, and swallowing incessantly, he
quickly had a thick, liquid breakfast for his trouble.  Standing, he helped
the still shaky lad to face the shower wall.  "May I, Andy?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, lover.  Be my guest," Andy replied.  Playing with his nipples,
occasionally gnawing lightly on his traps, kissing his ears (and anything
else within reach), Sam gently used a little Vaseline on both of them and
entered the lad's already open anus.  Pumping vigorously, making sure that
he rubbed the boy's prostrate on almost every thrust, and finally
tightening his arms around his stomach, he took the lovingly offered gift
as he felt Andy pump a second load onto the shower wall.  For the first
time in their relationship, he again dropped to his knees and sucked out
most of the cum and anal juices from Andy's canal.  "Oh, love," a quivering
voice whimpered, "that's so sexy.  I think I'm awake now."

Quickly on the road, Sam and Andreas continued on US-1 until the Bay turned
into the mighty Penobscot River, crossed the river at Bucksport, and headed
east to Ellsworth, the entry point for Mount Desert (pronounced de-ZERT,
but probably named "Desert" [DEZ-uhrt] due to the many seemingly bare and
arid mountains that dominate the largest island in the Bay).  As they
approached the causeway that led from the mainland onto the island, the
youngster grew increasingly excited.  "SAM, SAM, you're usually wrong," he
bantered, "but this time you hit the nail right on the head.  It's
SPECTACULAR!"

Working their way over towards the east side of the island, they finally
found themselves in the town of Bar Harbor, unquestionably one of the two
most noted resorts on America's East Coast.  Driving to a pleasant motel
where Mr. Peters had insured they would have reservations, they wearily
unpacked the car (sorry, "cah") and sat drinking a Coke and looking at each
other.  "Want to take a nap, Big Stuff?" Sam inquired.  "NO WAY, old man!
You've been babbling about this place ever since I've known you.  I want to
see Acadia!"  And see the glorious Acadia National Park they did.

For nearly two hours, they enjoyed the spectacular cliffs that dropped
sharply down to the water, the small beaches (usually rocky), the glorious
trees that scented the air in the warm sun, the sight of smaller island
lying out in the bay, and small lakes lying hidden within the Park.  Andy
finally decided that the music provided by the wind and the circling gulls
was, perhaps, even finer than that he had heard at Symphony Hall.  Finally,
he spotted a high mountain that loomed slightly to the west.  "So that's
Mount Cadillac," he mused.  "Sam, we won't have light much longer.  Can we
drive up to the top?"  "Your wishes are my command, Sir Knight," Sam
responded, delighting in the pleasure Andy was taking in one of his
favorite spots on Earth.  Without difficulty, they drove to the plateau
that forms the summit of the mountain.  As the sun began to set, they sat
on a granite ledge, their arms around each other's shoulders.  "Sam, some
people are looking at us.  Should we play it straight?"  "Fuck 'em!" Sam
growled and they continued to look out over the water to the islands tinted
in sunset hues and to the abrupt and broken coast of the mainland.  To the
south, they could see the ocean, flecked here and there with boats; to the
north, mighty Mount Katahdin, 110 miles (177 km) away; to the west, the
graceful outlines of the Camden Hills along which they had driven.  In
some, even many, ways, it was the highpoint of their trip.  If only they
had dared to kiss...

On their way down the mountain, trying his best to act casually, Andreas
asked, "Sam were you excited by the sailboat we saw close-up as it worked
its way into that cove - or the boats we saw out on the water from
Cadillac?"  "Yeah," Sam said, trying to keep his face and voice as
impassive as possible.  "They were nice."  "NICE?  NICE?  They were
BEAUTIFUL!" Andy exploded.  "Sam, do you think there's any chance that we
could go out in a sailboat - no big deal, maybe just around the harbor?"
"Andreas," Sam said in his most serious tone - akin to when Blondi had been
a puppy and had let everything go on the living room rug - have you,
perchance, forgotten that tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday?"  A grin
suddenly illuminating his face, Andy said quietly, "I should have known you
wouldn't forget, Sam."  "Well, how about your birthday present being a
little cruise and a fine dinner afterwards?" Sam continued.  "YEAH!" Andy
yelled and threw himself against his lover.  "WHOA, Monster Meat!" Sam shot
back, "Let me get down off this damned mountain before you wreck the car,
ok?"  "Ok, Daddy," Andreas answered in his worst "little-boy" voice, a
comical pout on his face, and retreated to the far side of the car.  'Man,
oh man,' Sam snickered to himself, 'I'm glad that Munich psychiatrist said
Andreas might become 'a little emotional,' but only on occasion.  I don't
think I could take this too often!'

After having a light meal and purchasing souvenirs and postcards for
everyone at DAS HAUS - including Blondi, for whom Andreas chose a card that
he saw as high Teutonic humor (a card showing a German Shepherd maternally
nursing a gaggle of insufferable French Poodle puppies while Papa Poodle
posed proudly in the background), the young men headed back to their motel.
It was late; they clearly needed sleep for tomorrow's adventures.  Don't
bet on it!  Andy was still on high!  'Oh, God, here we go again!' Sam
thought.  'This boy just can't eat any more seafood!  I wonder what it'll
take to scrape him down off the ceiling this time.'  Dancing around the
room, he chanted, "Hey, hey, we're going sail-ing!  Hey, hey, Blondi's
getting a postcard!  Hey, hey, I love Sam, and Sam loves me!"  As he
stripped every article of clothing from his body, he began (tunelessly,
endlessly, and loudly!) to sing, "As the Backs Go Tearing By," the
Dartmouth football song that doubled as The House's sport song.  After the
sixth repetition of the first stanza, Sam finally threw one - no, make that
two pillows at him, hoping to make him shut up.  Andy turned towards him,
dropping down into his best "gorilla crouch."  'My God,' Sam thought, 'is
that boy still growing...EVERYWHERE?'  Andy motioned menacingly for Sam to
remove his clothes.  'Well,' Sam thought, 'in for a penny, in for a
dollar!' and began stripping.  When the two beautifully muscled, completely
naked young men finally faced each other, Andy dropped down even further,
his knuckles dragging on the carpet.  Pounding his chest and emitting loud
challenges in ape talk, he charged!  As a chair, a table, and a lamp
crashed to the floor, they met in mid air and crashed back onto the carpet.
Instantly, they were at each other, whirling around madly, tackling that
Harvard halfback, sitting on the opponent's rump while pounding one's
chest, and even doing a little groping when the opportunity presented
itself.  You know...  After about half an hour - the sweat pouring down
their bodies, muscles bulging, and red of face - they suddenly found
themselves body molded to body in mutually unbreakable holds.  Andy
abruptly collapsed in laughter.  "Sorry, Sam," he chortled, "but I HAD to
work off some animal energy.  Besides my cock was getting murdered in that
hold!"  'Yeah, yeah,' Sam thought, 'and Papa Ehrhardt's a French Poodle!'
Arms around each other's waist, they walked towards the shower and, in the
fullness of time, dropped into bed...their arms still around each other.
'At least gorillas are a big improvement over Slovakian wolves,' Sam
thought as he slipped off to sleep.

Breakfast over, postcards were addressed, written, and then stamped and
mailed at the Post Office.  They also purchased Andy's first pair of
swimming trunks and an assortment of other gear.  FINALLY (according to an
increasingly impatient Andy), the swimsuit-clad duo - their hides fully
protected against the sun and equipped with enough gear for a year-long
expedition to the South Seas - made it down to the hahbuh or, if you
insist, the harbor.  Less than forty minutes later, they were bouncing
along the sparkling waves of Frenchman Bay in one sweet little red and
white sailboat.  His hair flowing in the breeze, his face flecked with
spray, the new eighteen-year-old was ecstatic!  Although Sam - who, in the
depths of his soul, shared his parents' Puritan heritage - was a little
taken aback, the youngster soon insisted on stripping off his suit.
('Lawdy...lawdy...lawdy,' Sam thought, 'I'd damned well better keep us well
away from any other sailboat!')  However his mind complained, Sam was
awestruck by the sight of the gleaming young god outlined against the deep
blue of the water, the white wave caps, and Acadia's mountains just beyond.
'Dark glasses and all, Poseidon, I've finally met you!' he thought.

"It's glorious, Herr Kapitaen! [the naval form of "Captain"]," Andreas
shouted above the wind.  When Sam referred to him as his "First Mate" and
invited him to take a turn at the tiller, his chest just about burst with
pride and excitement.  (True, on his first try, the boat heeled way over
and Sam had to help him turn around and reef the sail, but who was
complaining?  They were soon back underway.)

The Captain finally spotted a deserted cove and slowly worked the little
sailboat into it as Andy kept a sharp lookout for rocks or, perhaps, a sand
bar.  After securing the boat and enjoying their small lunch, they lay back
on the grass.  Reaching over Sam's naked body and kissing him
provocatively, Andy was just about to initiate more serious action when
they heard some girlish giggles from just behind them in the woods.
"DESERTED?" Andy yelled, as the two frustrated lovers ran for the boat and
shoved off with a speed and efficiency that amazed even them!  Skillfully,
Sam slowly tacked back up the coast.  Nevertheless, it was fully 1600 hours
(4:00 pm) before they returned to Bar Harbor.  Tired, but very happy, they
returned to their motel, showered off, and took a short nap.  A big - and
very special - evening lay just ahead!

They were simply dressed as they entered the beautiful, candle-lit
restaurant, but it was high summer in a resort and they weren't the only
ones.  (Other than in the largest cities, American dress since the War was
becoming increasingly informal.)  Smoothly shown to their table, they sat
perusing the long menu and wine list.  "Are you finally going to have that
lobster?" Sam grinned, nodding at an enormous red crustacean that lay on a
plate at a nearby table.  "SAM!"  protested his First Mate, "it's my
birthday, and my mouth has been watering all day for a big, juicy, American
steak!  Do you mind, lover?"  Knowing when he was beaten, Sam ordered a
special steak - and his lobster - when the waiter appeared.  He also
requested one order of raw oysters and tortured Andreas with them for a
good five minutes after they appeared at the table.  "Um...good!  Nothing
like something from the gall bladder of a Danube water monster!" he
murmured appreciatively, as one after another slid down his gullet.  In
truth, the dinner was magnificent, and the birthday cake that appeared at
its conclusion filled Andy with joy.  Who could ask for anything more?

As they sat over coffee, Andreas commented that while he would always love
the deep forests of Slovakia, he had come to feel that the Maine Coast was
very, very special.  "Truthfully, Sam," he said, "I finally understand why
you love it so. I do, too."  Nodding, Sam reached into his pocket and
brought out a small object that he concealed in his hand.  "Andy," he began
shakily, close to tears, "I know you are a German, I know you love your
country...and I know you realize that I will eventually return to the
States."  Swallowing, he continued, "I also realize there's some difference
in our ages.  But, Andy, I love you.  I love you so!  I NEVER want to be
without you!"  As the tears began to trickle down his face, he asked, "Is
there any chance at all that you will accept my ring and become my partner
for life?"

The young man who sat across from the handsome young American hrrumped and
said (rather dryly), "Well, my love, there has never been any question in
MY mind!"  Grinning wickedly, he added, "I've known exactly what I've
wanted for two years, and now I am about to get it.  Believe me, I'll never
let you go!  I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, Sam - even if that
means living in a city," he added slyly.  Sam slowly slipped the ring onto
Andy's finger, saying slowly and with passion, in the ancient words of his
family's English heritage, "With this ring, I do thee wed...to have and to
hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in
sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part."

Fumbling in his back pocket for a wallet that had been purchased expressly
for the trip and finally retrieving it, Andy extracted a small envelope and
said, "There's one problem.  I'm yours, Sam, and I will be for life.  I
wonder, however, if you will accept this ring as MY partner."

"How in hell...," Sam burst out, sitting straight up in amazement.  "Dad
told me what you planned," Andreas laughed in glee, "and he provided me
with a little ammunition...just in case you had the balls to go through
with it!"  "That stinker," Sam mumbled.  Excitedly, he exclaimed, "Wow!
I've seen that once before!  It's my...our... grandfather's ring.  As a
young boy, he fought in the Civil war...at Gettysburg."  When Andy had
slipped it onto the ring finger of his outstretched hand, he tearfully
added, "There, I'm yours, Andy - and it feels great!"

Returning to their motel, the star-struck lovers...now partners for
life...walked the streets of Bar Harbor, their arms around each other,
oblivious to everything and everybody.  Once there, they quietly undressed
each other and fell into bed.  Their lovemaking that night was soft and
quite gentle - no Slovakian wolves or even gorillas - but it filled them
with a joy that they had never before experienced in their relatively short
lives.

After breakfast the next morning and a short hike through the beautiful
forests of Acadia, the young men showered and packed up.  Following a brief
phone conversation with Boston, Sam was determined to drive straight
through.  By the time they reached the Piscataqua and prepared to leave
Maine, it was already dark.  Still awake, Andy put his hand on Sam's thigh
and pronounced his final words on the subject, "We gotta come back, Sam.
We just gotta!"


(To Be Continued)


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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rather obviously, the story of Sam and Andreas's adventure
in America has not yet been completed.  Part 22 that completes the
adventure will be along in just a few days.  Enjoy!
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