Date: Sun, 13 Jun 2004 19:13:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Lance Kyle <lokiaga@prodigy.net>
Subject: Seaward Plantation chapter eight

This story contains graphic but completely fictional
depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage
boys and a girl.  If this offends you, if it is illegal for
you to read or download this, or if you are under 18, please
go away.

Seaward Plantation

Chapter eight

Two identical Buddhas sat cross-legged surveying the feast
their disciples had set before them.

On second thought, maybe they were Buddhas and maybe they
weren't.  Buddha had surely been thirteen at one point in
his life, and so were these two.  Buddha was probably brown,
as they were, although perhaps not this particular rich
caramel color.  Although all the statues show him as fat,
Buddha must have been slim and muscular in his youth, as
these two boys were.  But Buddha might not have sat cross-
legged on the edge of a feather-bed, facing his twin Buddha
on the other edge of the mattress.  And Buddha may not have
sported the rigid erections that these two had, penises
arching out at forty-five degree angles in front of their
thin, muscled bellies.  And Buddha's disciples surely never
set this particular kind of feast before him:  two naked,
entwined, sleeping males, one white and one cream and coffee
colored.

Pan and Bacchus had given of themselves to help their white
master bed his new mulatto slave boy last night.  Now it was
their turn to claim the physical attentions of Mark Appleby
and the sixteen year old boy Cassius who still held each
other tightly in their sleep.  The twins looked at each
other, breaking into large, identical grins, and began to
help themselves to the banquet.

Pan, who was sitting by his master, began to lightly trace
the contours of the white man's muscular chest, gently
thumbing his rose colored nipples, twirling the small patch
of hair in the center of his chest, following the trail of
light brown hairs to the navel.  Leaning over, he kissed his
master's belly button, tonguing it gently, then followed the
thin line of hair again down into the soft pubic bush.  This
he nuzzled with mouth and nose, breathing in the man smell.
By this time, Mark Appleby had come fully but quietly awake
and was watching the proceedings.  He reached out a hand to
grasp the caramel brown boy's thigh, caressing and sliding
the hand across the flawless skin.  Appleby's penis was by
now fully erect, a development acknowledged by Pan's
slipping a brown hand around the purple-pink shaft and
slowly sliding it up and down, gradually tightening his
grip.  Clear precum glistened at the tip as the head grew
out of the hood, revealing the light pink glans.

Bacchus, sitting by the new slave boy, sixteen year old
Cassius, had not been idle.  Lightly pressing his own full,
trumpet shaped lips over the equally full, heart shaped
mouth of the mulatto, he kissed him gently.  The light
pressure of his tongue awakened Cassius gradually, who
smiled, which admitted Bacchus's tongue into his mouth.
Cassius sucked the boy's tongue, and with one hand reached
behind the boy and cupped a firm buttock, running his
fingers along the line of the ass crack, gently scratching,
with special attention to scratching around Bacchus's
wrinkled brown asshole.  Bacchus responded by reaching one
arm down to grasp Cassius's erect, medium brown penis,
pumping it, while with the other he rubbed the light brown,
boxy chest of the boy.

Breathing increased, soft moans and cries of delight built
in volume and frequency.  Boy shifted positions on boy, boy
on man, the sliding of skin on skin--tanned white, coffee
and cream, caramel brown--now lubricated by the sweat that
stood out on every surface and the precum that leaked from
every penis.  Rising up on one elbow to survey the scene of
twisting, grappling bodies, Appleby decided to take his new
slave to one more level in what was for the boy the new
delights of male love.  Appleby would delay one more time
penetrating the boy, building up his desire to do so until
it would be the sweetest pleasure.  But this time, this
morning, he would show Cassius the delights of penetrating
another.

Appleby slipped off the bed at the foot, his bedmates
looking at him with curiosity even as they slowly pumped and
squeezed each other's stiff cocks.  Kneeling on the bed near
the foot, the white man motioned for Cassius to join him.
Kneeling side by side, thigh by thigh, Appleby put one arm
around the light brown boy's shoulder and pulled him close,
tasting his full, moist lips.  With the other he fondled the
head of the boy's penis, sliding his fingers under the
sensitive cap, which made the slave moan with pleasure.
Then reaching into the pot of petroleum jelly he had with
him, Appleby gathered up gobs of the stuff which he spread
on the slave boy's dick, coating the head and the shaft just
behind it extra well.  Catching the idea, Cassius reached
into the pot and did the same for his master, running his
light brown fingers, slick with lubricant, around the white
man's pink cockhead, also making the deep purple, pulsing
shaft greasy.

By this time, Pan and Bacchus knew what was going to happen,
and they were eagerly willing.  It took only a gesture or
two from their master and the two boys got on their hands
and knees, tightly side by side, globes of caramel brown
butts presented to the white man and older mulatto boy.
Appleby demonstrated to Cassius, who watched intently, what
to do.  Sliding the head of his cock in the dark brown ass
crack, greasing especially the wrinkled hole with the precum
and lubricant that now coated his dick, the white man then
pressed the dick head up to Pan's brown asshole.  He pushed,
causing a gasp from the boy on the bed in front of him, who
put his head down and clutched the sheets with his fists.
The head of the white man's penis popped into the ring,
which held it tightly for a moment.  Then it relaxed,
allowing Appleby to plunge the full length of his penis
slowly but steadily into the boy.  Pan cried out, "O!
Master!  Oh, that feels so...ah!...so good!" and then the
white man was all the way in.  He smiled at Cassius and
nodded toward Bacchus's waiting ass.

Cassius was learning everything anew, experiencing a kind of
intimacy he had pictured in imagination but not explored
before coming to Seaward.  Eager to taste each new delight,
he copied his master's example, but inexpertly.  Placing his
own light brown cockhead against the asshole of Bacchus, he
pushed in.  Slick with grease and precum, it went in, but
too quickly.  Bacchus cried out in protest.  Appleby put a
hand on Cassius's shoulder to signal a need to wait.  Once
Bacchus gasped, "Alright!', Appleby removed his hand and,
grasping the hips of the boy in front of him, began to pull
in and out in a slow rhythm.

Cassius followed his example.  The twin boys, the pain of
insertion past, began to breathe as heavily as their master
and Cassius.  Bracing with their elbows and hands against
the sheets, they pushed their rears back into the pumping
groins of the man and boy behind them.  Each boy hung his
head and looked past his own dangling, full penis and tight,
heavy ballsack to see the genitals of the one behind them,
tanned white or light brown thighs pushed up tight against
their own.  The twins were panting, drool coming out of
their mouths and onto the sheets.

Appleby, side by side with Cassius, kept one hand on Pan's
hip and put his other hand on Cassius's far shoulder,
drawing him in.  Appleby turned his head and his mouth found
the full, heart shaped lips of Cassius.  His hand on the
shoulder slipped down to the boy's buttocks and grasped each
hard muscle as it clenched and unclenched in rhythm, then he
moved his hand into the tight valley between each buttock.
Cassius kept both hands on the hips of the boy in front of
him.  The pace of pumping became furious.  Inarticulate
sounds, half-formed words, and groans came from Appleby and
Cassius, each called loudly the name of the boy in front of
him, each boy moaned in pleasure and called back the name of
the man or boy who was fucking him.  At the same time, white
man and mulatto slave boy came, bucking and pushing their
rigid cocks into the boys as far as they would go.  Again
and again their hard butt muscles squeezed out a flood of
semen into the willing boy in front of them.

It was over, and Appleby and Cassius remained on their
knees, panting.  Impatient, the twin boys pulled off of the
wilting dicks that impaled them and turning around, rose to
their feet on the bed.  Each boy's long dickhead was now
pushed out beyond the medium dark foreskin, dripping with
precum.  The twins walked up close to Appleby and Cassius,
putting their hands on the shoulders of the ones who had
just fucked them.  Appleby leaned forward, putting his hands
around Pan's buttocks and pulled him closer, taking his
rigid dick into his mouth.  Seeing what to do, Cassius did
the same for Bacchus.

Stimulated by their recent fuck, both the caramel brown
twins pumped their penises in and out of the waiting, wet
mouths for only a few minutes.  They, too, came at the same
time.  Pan's fingers, embedded in his master's long, light
brown wavy hair, pulled the white man's head toward him as
he bucked forward, pumping his semen out.  Bacchus's hands,
which were on Cassius's shoulders, clenched spastically as
he lost control, quivering and shaking as he pushed forward
again and again to squeeze the white juice into Cassius's
mouth.

As each boy finished, he collapsed to his knees in front of
the larger male in front of him and each couple embraced
tightly, running hands over backs now slick with sweat.
Passion gave way to the delight of being held, and boys and
man, they explored their partner with tenderness.  Ears,
necks, nipples were brushed with lips, licked, gently
bitten.  Eventually, Appleby sat back, smiling at the
beautiful brown boy he had been holding, and said, "Let's
start the day!  we must show Seaward to Cassius and Portia."
Although reluctant to let go of the moment, the brown boys
agreed.  Returning to the bath room, they all washed in a
happy party of splashing, scrubbing and toweling each other,
and admiring naked wet bodies whether white, light brown, or
caramel brown.

As Appleby and the boys were finishing breakfast, they heard
steps on the verandah.  Going out to investigate they found
Hector and Helen.  "We are taking the new boy and girl all
over the island!" said Helen, smiling shyly at her master
out of her dark brown face.  Hector came up to Appleby and
gave him a quick hug, but his arm lingered on the man's
shoulder for a bit while they talked.  "We are here to get
Cassius, then we are meeting Portia for a tour," he said,
smiling at the new sixteen year old.  "We can have a picnic,
too!" he said, indicating a cloth bag he had slung over his
shoulder.  Cassius eagerly prepared for a day of walking and
touring, and soon the three of them set out down the path to
the cabins, where they would collect Portia from Mama Juno's
cabin.

Everyone settled into their tasks for the day.  The twins
busied themselves around the house, cleaning inside and on
the verandah, making the flowerbeds and lawns presentable.
Appleby worked steadily for a while with his correspondence,
preparing letters to go out to the mail boat with Troy.  He
found Troy with Priam, repairing some equipment in a shed.
The men greeted him warmly, Priam shaking Appleby's hand
with both of his large, strong, dark hands, Troy hugging him
and keeping one hand on Appleby's lower back while they
talked.  Appleby took a real interest in the work the men
were doing, and asked to be taught how certain pieces of
farm machinery worked.  He labored with the men for a couple
of hours, honest clean sweat breaking out on their skins as
they went about their chores.  Mama Cass brought food and
water to them in the storage barn for their lunch, which
they gratefully accepted.  Another couple of hours of work
in the gardens followed, with Appleby learning about the
care of the crops and vegetables grown on the island.  The
sun beat down and the three men removed their shirts, sweat
glistening on the tanned white and dark chocolate skins.
Priam's fifty year old body did not betray its age beyond
his white hair, a lifetime of work showing in the sculpted
muscles, the thick lobes of his chest, the steel sinews of
his hands and neck, while Troy's graceful, strong body
brought many a secret swelling of the groin to Appleby,
remembering their many times of shared passion.  Troy, too,
cast long looks at his master, and did Appleby imagine the
occasional furtive inspection of his body by Priam?

The men completed their work and put away tools for a break,
Appleby being grateful for the rest for his sore muscles.
Priam went to his cabin to nap, Troy prepared the Hesperus
to sail out and intercept the mail boat, and Appleby decided
to walk the paths of Seaward to find some shady spot to rest
in the afternoon.  He soon came upon a small lawn of soft,
plush grass growing beneath a huge, outspreading live oak,
one of the largest, lushest specimens Appleby had ever seen,
fed by the rich soil of the island and a nearby spring.
Appleby refreshed himself at the spring and was about to lie
down in the grass when an inspiration from out of his
boyhood overcame him:  he would climb the tree.  The low-
branching habit of the live oak made it easy for him to
climb, and finding one upward slanting branch after another
he was soon thirty yards up, catching a fresh, cool breeze
from off the sea.  Appleby nestled himself into the crook of
a major branch, surrounded by green leaves, and leaning back
fell fast asleep.

He awoke gradually, which was lucky so that he did not start
and fall from the limb on which he sat.  He was aware of
voices, but they were too soft and too distant to make out
the words.  However, they seemed to be nearly beneath him,
and coming closer.  Shifting his position, he found an
opening in the envelope of green leaves that surrounded him
so he could see down to the lawn beneath.  Cassius and Helen
were approaching down there, just the two of them, talking
softly.  The eleven year old girl had the sixteen year old
boy's light brown hand in her dark brown hand, swinging it
playfully.  But where were Hector and Portia, and why had
the tour quartet not stayed together as they explored the
island?

The two stopped on the plush lawn beneath the tree.  Appleby
could see them, being nearly directly above, but could not
make out any words in their muffled voices.  Cassius sat
down on the lawn, cross-legged.  Helen sat next to him, the
two talking but Helen talking more, the girl touching the
boy on the arm and shoulder from time to time.  Cassius
often turned his head quickly to look directly at the girl,
then turned back away to look down at the grass or out in
the direction of the sea.  Then Helen shifted position,
moving directly behind Cassius's back, on her knees.  Her
hands kneaded his shoulders as she bounced lightly against
his back.  Cassius's body did not exactly tense, but it
seemed to take on a waiting attitude, and he looked straight
ahead of him.  There was a soft exchange of words, and
Cassius nodded his head uncertainly.  Helen moved her hands
to the boy's boxy chest, rubbing it, massaging his nipples
through the rough fabric.

Could it be that she was seducing him, as she had her white
master a few days before?  Appleby's groin began to swell at
the memory.  He shifted positions very, very quietly so as
to keep the two in full view through the peephole in the
leaves.  A strong desire grew in him, and it had several
objects:  to see Cassius naked, to see Helen naked, to see
two others having sex when they could not see him, to
rejoice in Cassius's continuing awakening to a full range of
sexual enjoyment.

Down below, Helen gently pulled Cassius's shirt up and off
of him, the boy willingly raising his arms to assist the
process.  She resumed moving her dark brown hands over his
light brown skin in earnest now, running her hands also
through his tangle of thick, dark, loose black curls.  She
cupped his strong, boxy chest muscles, tweaked his purple
brown nipples, and ran her hands down his abdomen as far as
she could reach.  One of the boy's legs was bouncing
rhythmically with nervousness.  Then the girl stood up and
in one long pull wriggled out of her simple one piece tunic,
letting it fall on the ground.  She wore no underwear.
Looking down from above, Appleby remembered her orange
shaped breasts sitting firm and high on her muscular chest,
deep chocolate dark skin over her boyish body.  He could see
the gentle round swell of her strong but not well defined
abdomen below her breasts, and he could see the twisted
tufts of her hair shake as she moved her head.  He could see
the girlish version of Troy's and Priam's high, tight
buttocks, pushing up and out provocatively.

The girl moved around to stand in front of Cassius.  The
boy's leg stopped bouncing and his head seemed to reflect
that he was staring at her in awe.  She reached down and
tugged off the boy's shoes, then grasped the waist of his
trousers and, as the boy willingly lifted his hips a little,
slid both trousers and undergarment off in one motion.
Cassius leaned back on the grass; since they were just
beneath the tree, the ground sloped gently up towards the
base of the trunk.  This was fortunate, for it meant that
Cassius would not be looking straight up to catch any
possible glimpse of his master through the leafy peephole.

As the boy lay back, the dark girl knelt beneath his legs,
parting them gently.  She put her head way down and took
first one testicle and then another into her mouth, sucking
them gently.  Appleby could hear a distant moan from the
boy, could see the rapid rise and fall of his belly muscles,
now glistening with a little perspiration.  Helen's mouth
worked up the shaft of the boy's medium dark penis, now
rigidly erect, sucking and licking as she went.  Eventually
her full, plum-like lips slipped over the light brown-purple
head that had grown out from the hood of skin, and she
bobbed her head up and down on the pole for a while, her
hands clutching both of the light brown boy's muscular
thighs.  Cassius's head lolled from side to side, and more
distant sounds of moaning, plus the occasional inarticulate
word, came to Appleby's ears.

Releasing the boy's penis with a plop, Helen moved forward,
her thighs and knees now straddling the boy's muscular
abdomen.  Reaching behind, she positioned his penis, now
slick with spit and precum, at the entrance to her vagina.
She lowered herself down a little, perhaps just enough to
admit the head into the entrance to her womb.  She gave a
little cry and stopped, and Appleby could see that she was
breathing heavily.  After a moment, she began to move her
hips up and down just a little, then just a little more,
picking up a little speed as she went.  Cassius's hands went
out to her and hers out to him.  Palms to palms, they locked
light brown and dark brown fingers together.  Faster and
faster Helen bounced on the boy's rigid rod, but never took
it in all the way.  Half-heard words and moans began to
increase, the light breathless voice of the girl intertwined
with the throaty, hoarse moans and cries of the sixteen year
old boy.

Suddenly, Cassius's torso curled, his head and chest coming
up off of the lawn and his powerful leg and butt muscles
pushing his groin upward.  He nearly screamed, a sound
Appleby could hear very well even from his high perch.  The
unexpected penetration high into her womb caused the girl to
cry out as well, but her passion overtook her pain and she
continued to bounce quickly up and down, then changed to a
slower rhythm, perhaps remembering techniques from the
experience of masturbating her white master a few days
before.  Helen's own body suddenly shook and, releasing
Cassius's hands, she slumped forward, putting her hands on
the boy's chest.  The pumping slowed and then stopped.
Pulling herself off of the boy's penis, she slumped forward
onto his chest, her legs still spread-eagled on both sides
of his abdomen.  Appleby could see the boy's penis, still
erect but wilting, leaking semen down one side as it slowly
flagged and settled back down onto his thigh.  It was hard
to tell from that distance, but he was sure he could see the
gleam of the sixteen year old's semen running out of the
vagina of the chocolate dark eleven year old girl.

How long they lay there, Appleby did not know.  His own
trousers were stained with his leakings, but he dared not
relieve himself with his hand and betray his hiding place.
Slowly, the girl eventually stood up, then so did the boy in
front of her.  They embraced tenderly, Cassius holding her
head of tufted twists close to his chest, she with her arms
around his back.  Breaking apart reluctantly, each dressed,
and then hand in hand walked back down the path that led
away from the tree.  Appleby waited until he was sure they
were gone, then clambered back down the tree.  He knelt and
ran his hand over the mashed-down grass, thinking that it
still felt warm from the bodies of the sixteen and eleven
year olds.  He was sure he felt some slick fluids on the
grass, even as they were soaking into the rich earth of
Seaward.  As he rose to walk down the same path, toward the
big house, he slid his fingers together, slippery with the
leavings he had found on the grass, his thoughts occupied
with many things.

Entering the path that would take him to his house, Appleby
found Troy, who was looking for him.  "Master, when I
stopped the mail boat to give them your letters...." his
face broke into a huge grin, sparkling white teeth in his
dark handsome face, "they passed on three big crates to me,
Master!  They had to lower them onto the Hesperus with a
crane... I was afraid she might founder.  Come see!"  He led
the way down an intersecting path to the storage barn.
Appleby hugged himself with glee, anticipating the first
fruits of the telegrams and letters he had sent North.
Priam was there in the barn, just unhitching the donkey cart
with which he and Troy had hauled the crates from the pier.
Cass and Juno tried to peer inside through the slats.
Appleby noted with interest that Hector and Portia were also
there, and he tried to read in their easy, friendly way with
each other whether anything had passed between them similar
to what he had observed between Cassius and Helen.

Appleby seized a crowbar and, flourishing it in the air,
said, "People of Seaward!  Behold, I bring you gold, silver,
and rubies!"  Expressions of amazement and questions broke
out; it was clear nobody took him literally, but now their
curiosity was really piqued.  Going up to the first crate,
Appleby began prying the top off, being careful to preserve
the wood for future use.  Off it came, and he reached inside
and pulled out brown rubies:  shoes!  Factory-made shoes
from the North, in a wide range of sizes and styles.
Nothing extra fancy, but sturdy shoes for country use.
Accustomed to old, rough shoes out at the heel and toe in
many cases, the people simply stared, then gasped in awe and
dove into the crate themselves.  The twins came running into
the barn to see what the commotion was about and, like
everyone else, began removing the contents carefully,
reverently, to find some pairs their sizes.

There were at least a couple of pairs for everyone, plus
sizes "in between" that the smaller ones would grow into.
When Appleby moved to the second crate everyone gathered
around in real anticipation.  Off came the wooden top, in
went brown hands and arms, and out came good quality
manufactured clothing, again from the mills and factories of
the North.  Used to homemade and hand-me-downs, the people
regarded the strong, simple dresses, pants, shirts, broad
straw hats, and overalls as if they were ermine robes.
Heavy wool jackets and slick oiled waterproofs promised
protection against the weather.  A party spirit filled the
barn as the people judiciously and fairly divided up the
spoils, which were once again in a range of sizes.  Athena,
Cassius and Helen joined the party, drawn by the happy
shouts, and partook of the riches as well.  Appleby kept
eyeing the latter two to see if their behavior would betray
any hint of their afternoon passion.

Hearts raced as Appleby broke open the third crate.  Out
came big tubs of paint and brushes, curtains, good and
simple china dishes, strong study glassware, mirrors,
flatware, enameled steel teakettles and black cast iron
cooking pots and pans.  "Master," said Juno, hesitantly, "do
these go in the big house?"  "No," replied Appleby "they are
for the cabins.  Help yourselves."  Wonder warred with greed
in the eyes of the women and girls, but good manners won out
and the spoils were fairly divided.  The cabins, although
sturdily built, were plain, and visions of domestic luxury
danced in every female mind.  The men good naturedly helped
sort the goods.  There was praise and thanks for Appleby all
around, and then each party dispersed to take its loot back
to the cabins.

Appleby arrived back at the house just as dinner was being
brought to the dining room.  Tonight he would eat with the
twins and with Cassius around the big table in that room.
Portraits of long-dead Huddles and a solitary Appleby
brought by Aunt Lucy from the North looked down in amazement
at the white man in easy company with his dark and light
brown boys.  Cassius seemed light-hearted but thoughtful,
while the twins were heir usual bouncy selves.  During one
lull in the conversation (because the twins each had full,
overstuffed mouths and were chewing), Cassius put his hand
on his master's forearm and, squeezing it gently, simply
said, "Thank you, Master Mark.  Thanks for everything."
Appleby smiled in return.

Other families and groupings ate in their own cabins around
the plantation.  Just as he was finished and moving out onto
the verandah with the boys to enjoy the evening breeze,
Appleby was surprised to see all the other people of Seaward
walking toward the house from the path that led to their
cabins.  They were animated, chatting and laughing.  Several
carried lanterns.

Priam took the lead, stepping out of the group and
addressing Appleby and the boys.  "We are naming the baby
tonight," he said.  "It is a custom we have; the correct
number of days has passed, the night is clear and starry,
all the signs are good.  Will you join us, Master Mark?"
Hector, Troy, and Athena smiled invitingly, all three
passing the gurgling infant among them.  Appleby gladly
agreed to join them, and finding a lantern in the pantry and
a coat against the evening chill, he and the boys set out
with them.

On paths through the fields and woods of Seaward they walked
in the gathering twilight, making their way toward higher
ground.  Appleby walked with Mama Cass and Mama Juno and
asked about their work, what supplies were needed, how they
would decorate their cabins.  With Priam he discussed which
crops were good and which might fail on the island.  With
real joy, he admired the baby girl that was passed among
Athena, Hector, and Troy, making extravagant predictions
that she would be a queen, would fly to the moon, would
command the seas, would rule the world.  The twins ran
ahead, now behind, in and out of all the groups, laughing
and sharing high spirits.  Appleby noted that Cassius and
Portia tended to lag somewhat behind the group, with Helen
between them, the two girls finding common ground in their
domestic interests, while Cassius had his own different
reasons to want to be with each one.

The happy party finally arrived at the hilltop cemetery, the
highest point of Seaward.  There amid black and white
ancestors they lit a bonfire that had been laid, and
everyone gathered around it.  Voices became quiet in the
night, and even the rambunctious twins seemed to know that a
special moment had arrived.  Calling for the baby and
holding her in his arms, Priam repeated words in an African
language long forgotten to most of them, incantations for
health, strength, peace, and long life.  He held the child
up to the stars, then brought her back down and stood on the
other side of the fire from the gathering.

"What name have you given to this one?" he asked the three
parents.  Athena stood up.  In a soft but clear voice, she
said, "Papa Priam, we decided it would not be fitting to
name a baby girl 'Mark.'  So we name her... Apple."  A soft
chorus of approval passed around the group, and every one of
them looked at Mark Appleby.

He was smitten to the heart, tears starting to his eyes and
running down his cheeks.  He could not speak, but could only
nod his approval and acceptance, then covered his face for a
moment with his hand.  In one more way, he was becoming one
with the people of Seaward.  Completing the ceremony, Hector
and Troy, holding on to a bottle of wine together, poured a
cup's worth of it onto the fire.  "Libation!" they cried--or
its equivalent in an African tongue, if they knew it, and
the people responded in kind.  Silence descended on the
gathering again, and then in groups of two or three they
quietly stole off into the night.

Lost in thought, staring into the fire, Appleby eventually
noticed that only he and Priam were left, on nearly opposite
sides of the dwindling embers.  "Thank you, Priam, for this
blessing here tonight," said Appleby.  "You are welcome,
master," returned the strong black man, blacker than usual
in the night, his skin shining in the firelight.

"Are there other ceremonies from Africa that you remember
and perform--other blessings or rites of passage or the
marking of special occasions?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Master Mark, for weddings, burials, all manner of
things.  Some are best left forgotten," he said, shaking his
head, "like initiation ceremonies for girls that
involve....cutting.  Those are best forgotten."  He stared
out to sea, the fire lighting the strong, mature profile of
his face.

Appleby nodded his complete agreement.  Genuinely
interested, he pressed the fifty year old:  "Were there
initiation ceremonies, rights of passage, for boys also?"

"Oh yes, those, too.  When a boy was about thirteen, you
know."  Priam continued staring out to sea.

"Did the young men here at Seaward, the boys, did they go
through those ceremonies?"

"Oh, not exactly the same, some things you leave behind.
New ceremonies come to be, new ways to mark passages.  I'm
the only one who remembers those old ones," said Priam,
shaking his head sadly, turning a gentle gaze on his master.

"So you must have gone through those rites of passage
yourself in Africa before.... before you were stolen," said
Appleby.

"Not all of them, master, I was taken when I was ten years
old.  I missed one or two of them.  I wish that I had gone
through with them.  I have always felt something....
something missing," he said, looking at his master and then
dropping his gaze to the fire.

"But Priam," said Appleby, real concern in his voice and
face, "is it too late?  Can we not have such an initiation
for you now?  What sorts of things did they do, that you
wish you had done?"

Now Priam shook his head more vigorously, and looked out to
sea again.  "No, Master Mark, you don't want to know," he
said, casting a quick glance at Appleby, then back out to
sea.

His interest piqued, Appleby pursued the matter.  "No,
Priam, please tell me.  What would you have done that would
have made you feel more complete, if you had not been
taken?"  Priam picked up a stick of wood and stirred the
embers, looking intently into them.  Silence passed for a
moment.  "Tell me," urged Appleby, softly.

Sensing real caring and interest, Priam glanced at Appleby,
then back at the fire, then back at the white man.  Seeming
to make a decision, he began slowly.  "Well, you see, Master
Mark," and he cleared his throat before continuing, "you
see..... among my people, it was thought that for a boy to
become a man, he had to take.... to take something of
manhood into him."  He hung his head, stirred the embers,
looked again at his master.  "We had many rites of passage
such as hunting, staying alone in the wilderness for a
period, which I did, successfully--but taking something of
manhood.... that I did not do."

"What... what thing of manhood would you take?"  asked
Appleby.

Priam laughed quickly, even roughly.  "Do you really want to
know, master?"  Appleby said "Yes" again, gently pressing
the unwilling black man.  "Well.... a boy of thirteen or so
would.... would take a man's seed into him.  It would in
turn make him a man."  Smiling, he shook his head, stirring
the embers vigorously now with the stick.  "I don't know,
master, probably just a superstition."

"So.... so you never did this thing as a boy?" asked
Appleby.

"Master, the idea was to do it with an elder of the tribe,
someone a boy respected and admired.  I.... I was made to do
it on the way to this place, master," said Priam, avoiding
eye contact, "but it was not with men I admired and not with
men of my tribe."  Suddenly a look of sadness came over
Priam, strong mature man that he was.  He grew silent, the
vigorous poking of the fire the only indication of the
strong emotions stirred within him by his memories of that
ceremony and his loss at having missed it in any real sense.
Appleby saw the shadow of a small boy that used to be,
inside of Priam.  Appleby suddenly felt a sense of kinship
with Priam, the two oldest men on the island even if a
quarter century separated them.  He thought of something
Troy had once said to him, and of all that Priam did for the
island and for him.  Not fully thinking his way through,
Appleby plunged ahead.

"Priam.... is it too late?  Can you do this thing at your
age, and be more complete?"  The black man stopped stirring
abruptly and looked across the fire at the white man but did
not speak.  "Troy.... Troy once said to me that at Seaward,
each one gives to others what they need.  You have given me
much, Priam."  Appleby rose, Priam's eyes locked upon him.
"Can I give you something in return?  I admire you....
perhaps you admire me?  and in a real sense, Priam, we are
members of the same tribe."  Appleby took the few steps to
come around the fire and stand near Priam.  The strong black
man rose, standing a little higher than Appleby, his deep
black eyes searching his master's face for understanding,
some deep process of thought and decision working in the
craggy muscles of his face.  Appleby reached out one hand
and cupped it around Priam's neck.  The black man took
breath in sharply and dropped the stick from his hand.
"What can I give you.... my friend?"

Priam gasped again, and put his own thick, strong, muscled
and calloused hand to cover the white hand that caressed his
neck.  Looking directly into the white man's eyes, he
breathed, "O! Master Mark."  Then the two embraced each
other, roughly as strong men might, one of them at least
unused to embracing men.  In that moment Appleby felt an
iron-hard lump in the groin of the older man who held him,
trembling.  He knew what he must do.  Stepping back a pace,
Appleby began to undress, despite the evening chill.  He
kept his eyes on Priam's face the whole time, smiling an
acceptance and invitation.  Priam's face alternated quickly
among smiles and wonder and consternation--then, making a
quick decision, he began removing his clothing as well.

Soon the two men stood naked in front of the dying fire, one
body a dusky tan in the fading light, the other body a coal
black that reflected the firelight.  One body was smoothly
muscled, the other bound and corded by iron hard, thick
muscles, the kind that can only be built up from a lifetime
of hard work.  Only his craggy face and the grey of the hair
on his head and above his penis betrayed any sign of age in
Priam.  He could have crushed the white man, strong though
Appleby was, but he did not.... he stepped forward, and the
two men, standing, embraced tightly.  Appleby recognized the
release that he himself had felt upon first coming to
Seaward, the first night of passion he had spent with the
twins.  Priam, even at his age, was coming to his own rite
of passage.  If raped or molested as a boy, this would be a
willing participation, a passionate meeting of equals.  A
fleeting thought of the ten year old boy he had met.... he
had not been kind to... at McGillicuddy's flashed through
Appleby's head, and he thanked the universe for how it
continued to give him ways to make amends for past wrongs.
Strong arms clutched muscular bodies, still standing, hands
exploring, scratching, pulling at hard muscle.  Priam's
penis, larger even than Troy's, was rock hard and pressed
against Appleby's own straining erection.

Priam knew where he was physically, but spiritually he was
thirteen again, in a lost African village, with an elder of
his tribe whom he knew... and loved.  Repeating words he had
nearly forgotten in his mother tongue, he began to slide
downward to his knees, kissing Appleby's muscular chest,
tonguing his nipples, tracing the line through his navel to
his pubic hair.  Appleby gently helped the strong man's
journey downward, until the man's cap of tight, kinky white
hair was waist high.  The white man ran his fingers through
the black man's hair as he simply held and caressed the
head.  Intoning African words, Priam plunged Appleby's rigid
penis into his mouth.  He began sucking and pumping,
greedily working the hard cock, yearning for the essence of
manhood that would, in his mind, make him complete.

Appleby slowly rocked his hips back and forth to assist the
process.  When he came it was like an offering, an
outpouring of love, a gift.  "Priam!" he cried, and gently
pushed into the black man's face, holding the crinkly,
woolly head as his seed flowed out.  Priam swallowed
greedily.  When there was no more, Priam let the wilting
organ slide from his mouth and embraced his master's thighs.
"Oh Master Mark, thank you, oh thank you," he said over and
over.

Appleby helped the man to his feet, thin trickles of tears
running down the planes of the hard muscled black face.
They embraced in genuine affection.  And then Appleby gently
turned Priam around so he stood behind him, both facing the
fire, and pressed into the black man.  His swollen but
relaxing penis nestled along the divide between Priam's
muscular buttocks.  With one hand Appleby reached around the
man and gently caressed the massive lobes of his chest, his
muscled belly.  With the other hand, Appleby began to pump
the rock hard, ponderous cock of the black man.  Head to one
side, Priam hummed softly, breaking into more African words
under his breath from time to time, swinging his hips into a
soft, steady motion.  The two men swayed together in time to
Priam's inner song.  When he came it was also gentle if
copious.  Priam reached back behind him suddenly to pull his
master into his backside, then pushed his hips forward and
cried out an unknown African word.  Great ropes of semen
shot out, splashed and sprayed over the dying embers, which
hissed and spat as the white liquid landed in it.

Appleby released the black man's penis and hugged him tight
from behind, with real affection.  Priam covered the white
hands and arms with his own and leaned his head back to
smile at his master.  "Libation!" said Appleby.  Priam
chuckled deep in his chest and nodded agreement, looking at
the sizzling embers.  "Libation!" he agreed.  And the two
elders of the tribe stood in that friendly embrace as the
embers died, watching the bright stars in the black night.