West Otter Lake

Copyright© 2013 – Nicholas Hall

 

West Otter Lake – Chapter Twenty-Three - "When you say you love me, for a moment there's no one else alive." – (Mark Hammond/Robin Scoffield)

Awakened the next morning, not by Terell and Treyvon as was their custom, but by the "rat-a-tat-tat" of a woodpecker deciding to vigorously attack the wooden deck railing outside of our bedroom window, and the sweet, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting gently up from the direction of the kitchen via the Great Room. Inhaling deeply, anticipating the first cup of Leandro's coffee in the morning and, upon reaching over to his side of the bed and discovered he was still there, evidenced by the twitching member attached to his body, wide awake and ready for a rousing, standing-ovation, repeat performance of the night just past. I was hesitant, not only because after three passionate liaison's in the past six hours or so leaving me just a touch not totally in control of my sphincter muscles, but with so many people in the Lodge, I didn't think we had time (besides, I tend to be a bit vocal, heralding my climax and his deep-seated, balls-to-my-ass-cheeks eruption), so I leaned over, slowly drew the warm, throbbing, velvety head of his penis into my mouth, wrapped my tongue around it, circled the glans carefully before bobbing up and down until, feeling the tube on the underside of his magnificent cum-gun begin to swell and throb, I prepared my mouth for a bountiful supply of his essence. I wasn't disappointed in the least!

With each little thrust and twitch forward from his flexing, firm and muscular buttocks, a nice warm, thick spurt of him hit the back of my mouth, rested on my tongue, allowing me to savor the taste before I swallowed, ready to accept some more. Leandro's cum is uniquely him; not overly salty, sweet, or in the least bit distasteful. If what is said concerning developing a taste for the thick, milky, almost-tapioca texture male procreative substance is correct, then I have an insatiable appetite for Leandro's cream, whether delivered orally or rectally!

He finally began to soften, my mouth still sealed to the head of his dick, lapping up the last vestiges of his spooge, I withdrew my suctioning lips, sighing, "Conner, I fall in love with you anew every day."

Grinning, knowing exactly how he felt, I pulled away, letting that magnificent Latino sausage flop back on his abdomen and hustled off to shower. I was curious who was in the kitchen stirring up who knows what breakfast entre and sides. This was going to be a busy and banner day at West Otter Lake Resort and Campground; Mae and Cedric were to be married!

I cannot recall Grandma or Grandpa Johnson ever mentioning a wedding at the Resort, so this just might be a first! The whole hog barbeque the night before was a first, but if Leandro has his way (and I'm certain he will because I love him) it might become a regular event next season for our guests – for a fee of course! I'm generous, but not that generous for heaven's sake.

Leandro joined me in the shower; we washed each other carefully, but hastily since he was just as curious as I concerning our mystery chefs. Arriving at the kitchen, both of us now clean and clothed, we were greeted by Drs. Chris and Marc and their wives.

"We're fixing breakfast for the tribe," Chris announced as Marc lifted fluffy, golden brown pancakes from the big griddle on the gas stove and stacked them in deep warming pans.

"The boys kind of took over your kitchen, but that's a Wilson for you," giggled Chris' wife as she picked up the now full warming pan and placed it in the oven. "Get used to it when they all get together."

Marc's wife punched a couple of numbers in her cell phone and announced breakfast was being served in the Lodge. It wasn't long before she had help stacking paper plates with pancakes, pouring juice, handing out table service, and shooing hungry Wilson Clan members to other parts of the house to eat. Leandro scooted upstairs and sounded the call for breakfast to those resting, hither and yon, in the various rooms.

The twins were the first to come bounding down the stairs and trot into the kitchen. After all, we were having pancakes and pancakes were their favorite breakfast! Ollie and Luis were among the last to arrive. By flushed look on their faces, they probably had a bit of a "pre-breakfast" snack before coming to the kitchen. Ollie, quiet as usual, sat while Luis picked up a plate of pancakes and a cup of juice for each of them. Sitting side by side, small smiles adorning their faces as they ate, sharing the closeness of each other, didn't go unnoticed by Dr. Marc.

"Those two young men are really in love with each other, aren't they?" It was more of a statement of fact, rather than a question. I nodded in agreement and accepted my breakfast plate from Leandro.

"About like you two, I'd think."

His last remark didn't register with me right away; I was too focused on the "two young men" before me eating their breakfasts and laughing softly, communicating with each other through their eyes, facial expressions, and slight touches as only two lovers can. I saw them now in a totally different light then I'd seen them before. The summer had been good to both Ollie and Luis, strengthening them, toning their bodies, changing "young boy fat" to "young man's muscle" creating svelte, handsome young men on the cusp of adulthood. Both had grown taller, broader of frame, although neither would be what's considered "tall;" more average I should think when they reached their final maturity. Luis was now a couple of inches taller than Ollie and perhaps ten pounds heavier, with a more developed chest and shoulders, much like his older brother and much more gregarious than Ollie.

Ollie, on the other hand, more delicate in features, incredibly attractive, with long, slender fingers, dancing eyes, and a smooth, quiet movement to his body; almost cat-like and more introverted, quiet, shy among strangers, but with a smile that could cascade shafts of brilliant light in a crowd. As I watched, he reached over to Luis, smiled and carefully dabbed away a spot of syrup that collected on his boyfriend's face. No verbal comment was needed, risking only a wink back at Ollie, Luis continued to enjoy his breakfast in the company of his lover. They were soon joined by other Wilson grandchildren and the conversation evolved to all teen talk.

My concentration on my two teens was broken by Shawnte Wilson. "Got a minute, Conner?" and motioned me aside. We walked to the Great Room to the windows overlooking the lake and stood silently.

I waited patiently for him to open the discussion he so obviously desired to have and, when nothing was forthcoming, I finally asked, "Shawnte, you didn't invite me away to tell me how beautiful the view is, did you?"

"No, I didn't; my brother, Edward and I visited this morning over coffee before the thundering herd awakened and stampeded to the kitchen. Conner, you have a great place here, a good business, and excellent business sense. You have a heart large enough to love almost everyone and the capacity to make room for all of those castoffs, those denigrated by our society, including those with alternate live styles, such as yours, and even those who are undocumented immigrants."

My heart sank; he knew Leandro was undocumented and was warning me he was going to report him as such! Evidently the fear and angst I felt inwardly was betrayed in my eyes and blanched face. About to respond, Shawnte raised a finger in a gesture to silence me.

"Edward's done some immigration work, pro bono, for those individuals needing protection and seeking a pathway to citizenship and, besides being a "consultant," I'm also a registered lobbyist with more than a few favors I can call in. If you don't mind, we'd like to have a visit with Leandro and see if we can't keep you two together, just in case someone should ever think to cause you turbulence."

"We can develop the paperwork confidentially and, perhaps, ease the process to documentation and eventually citizenship. As I understand it, he came to this country while young in the company of his parents and should qualify under the "Deferred Action" program."

It was my turn to raise my hand and stop him!

"I think, Shawnte, before we discuss anything further, we need to talk to a lawyer so he can invoke the "lawyer/client" privilege."

Nodding, he asked me to wait and walked to the kitchen to locate his brother. Shawnte returned in a couple of minutes with Edward following closely behind him.

"I understand, Conner, you'd like to speak to me – on a lawyer/client basis; is that correct?"

We walked out, sans Shawnte, to the deck fronting the windows overlooking the lake, where I unloaded my story of how Leandro and Luis arrived at West Otter Lake Resort and Campground; of Leandro's undocumented status; of Luis' citizenship through birth in the United States and the documentation of that birth; of my apparent guardianship of Luis as noted on the paperwork we'd filled out and; the intimacy of my relationship with Leandro. It all just sort of poured out of me, overflowing as a one quart vessel attempting to hold two quarts of liquid.

Edward, noting a hesitation, more a cessation of verbiage, smiled. "I surmised as much, but I'm pleased you told me. I'll be more than happy to represent Leandro, if he agrees, and serve as your lawyer as well. We can quietly work to keep him here and you two together. You have to understand, if the ICE shows up, he could be nabbed and have the very devil of a time getting back into this country, so we'll get started ASAP – okay?"

Accepting the nodding of my head and a handshake as my agreement, Edward walked inside to join Shawnte. They walked off, I assumed, to find Leandro and speak to him. I had every confidence, between the two of them they could offer us the help we needed.

The wedding was scheduled for two in the afternoon and by one, the caterer was on board and busy in the kitchen preparing chaffing dishes, bowls, and iced trays to contain and keep cold or hot the reception delicacies. The lady who baked the wedding cake was hustling about assembling and putting the final touches on the three tiered cake and cutting the sheet cakes. The photographer anxiously posed the bride and groom and the wedding party for their official wedding portraits. Task completed, he then began taking a few candid shots of the preparation for the bride and groom's album.

The afternoon weather was everything we hoped for. The sun, bright and warming and the brilliant blue sky, accentuated with the multi-hued leaves decorating the hardwoods lining the shore, dabbed with the splotches of green from the pines interspersed among them, and the lake, placid, calming, and reflective of it all, added the ambiance of fall grandeur to the happy event occurring in the Lodge. The ceremony was simple, yet elegant; not only in its meaning but musically, with Ollie's passionate, intimate renditions and performance of the music Mae chose. His accompanying of Luis during his crystal clear tenor rendition of "When You Say You Love Me," by Mark Hammond and Robin Scoffield, struck to the very heart of not only the relationship between Mae and Cedric, but between the other lovers in the audience.

The twins, looking so much older than their nine years, proudly, but solemnly lifted their grandmother's hand to Cedric's when the pastor asked, "who gives this woman?" and answered loudly in exuberance and joy for the couple, "We do; Terell, Treyvon, and Olliver Johnson, her grandsons." There wasn't a dry eye in the Great Room after that announcement. My heart swelled with fondness for my brothers, hearing them proudly say "Johnson," using our shared last name to stake their rights and emphasize their desire for an anchorage in this safe harbor. Cedric and Mae's eyes danced with mutual love as they repeated their vows. Kissing the bride, now Mavis Thompson Wilson, Cedric responded to the enthusiastic applause from those assembled by holding that kiss just a wee bit longer so he could enjoy it more.

The caterer did a top-notch job on the reception. The wedding cake was "over-the-top" according to Mae, and after the appropriate toasting was completed, the meal about over, Ollie and Leandro, much to my surprise, announced there'd be a dance in the Great Room in about an hour, once the cleaning up was done and chairs and couches moved to the side.

As the family gathered, Leandro brought forth his guitar, Ollie sat at the piano, and from the Wilson family came forth a fiddle, banjo, and another guitar. The first dance was for the bride and groom and featured only Ollie at the piano. It was a nice easy waltz and about half-way through, Leandro put down his guitar, walked over to me, and took me in his arms and asked me dance. My God, what a wonderful feeling, holding him close to me, resting my head on his shoulder, and allowing the music to express our feelings for each other. From the corner of one eye I noticed Loren and Craig dancing and were being joined by Cedric's adult children and their spouses.

It was a lovely family dance, except for two people- Ollie and Luis. Ollie continued playing while Luis sat by his side on the bench, keeping his lover company. I was about to speak up when I spotted Mae and Cedric stop dancing and walk up to the piano. Mae sat next to Ollie and without a hesitation or cessation of music, slipped her hands between his, relieving him of his task so he could leave to dance with Luis.

They danced as one; two young men vibrantly, totally, passionately in love. The expressions on their faces, the manner in which they held each other, bespoke of their mutual respect and concern. Luis, the protector, but not dominant, securing Ollie to him; Ollie, the protected, yet not subservient, nestling his head on Luis's shoulder, were joined as one. There was no need to for them to speak aloud, their eyes and faces spoke volumes. Comfortable in each other's presence, secure in each other's arms, their relationship was steady and strong for one's so young, but I predicted it'd last a lifetime.

If anyone in the assembled party didn't realize the lot of us were gay, partnered, and proud, they did now. West Otter Lake Resort and Campground was our sanctuary; where we could live, work, love and be loved as we desired.

Ollie and Luis finished the dance and regained their places, followed by Leandro, and the others from the Wilson family to continue with more danceable music. The families danced another hour or so before all were satisfied. Dusk was upon us by then so Cedric and Mae left for their cottage, the teens and younger ones began wandering back to campsites, cabins, or rooms in the Lodge, and the other adults remained in the Great Room for visiting and after dance/before bed drinks. Leandro and Loren mixed drinks while Craig and I built a fire in the fireplace. The ambiance and warmth of the flickering yellow, red, and blue of the flames was an excellent finish to an exciting day. Cedric's children shared stories of growing up on military bases or government housing around the world; from Europe to Japan and in the United States. As each one reached university age, they returned to the States, if stationed abroad, to attend a university of their choice.

They seemed to harbor no resentment concerning the many moves the family made over the years or over lost friends or new ones made; quite the contrary. They were rewarded with a broadened cultural education, as well as intellectual, associating with and becoming acclimated in diverse cultures and societies. Perhaps it is one of the reasons why they're all so accepting of us as a gay couple or couples.

The Great Room emptied as each bid us good night and after a few minutes, Craig, Loren, Leandro, and I made our customary night rounds, but as a group this time. We ended up on the campground dock and stood, listening to the night sounds and enjoying the fall night. A hard frost the week before diminished the bug population so we weren't pestered – by bugs, that is.

Loren stood behind Craig, arms wrapped around him, and as Leandro and I watched, and slowly, gently manipulated his hands down the front of Craig's trousers until he encountered the prize he sought. Craig emitted a welcoming sigh, leaned his head back, and encouraged Loren to continue. Watching this, boned me up stiffer than an oak tree and if what I felt jabbing me in the ass, with Leandro snugged up tight against my back, was not seven plus inches of fine Latino tube steak, then a small horse was about to mount me.

Leandro proceeded beyond what Loren was currently doing to Craig and slipped my pants and boxer shorts down to my ankles, spit copiously on his turgid cock, and wiggled that baby home to rest. Loren and Craig stared, open-mouthed, witnessing for the first time, I should imagine, one man fuck another! Wasting no time, Loren quickly mimicked our action and was soon buried balls deep in Craig's ass. He and Leandro began pumping slowly, erotically in their lover's tunnels until, catching the tell-tale signs an orgasm, I prepared myself to receive Leandro's copious breeding fluid. I felt him begin to spurt and glanced over at Loren, whose ass cheeks were clenched tight as he rammed himself as deep into Craig as he could. Craig reacted the same as I do when my lover climaxes; pushing back and flexing the butt muscles each time his jissm pumps out of him. It was an excellent way to end a beautiful day, if I don't say so myself.

Sunday morning was greeted in varying degrees as sleepy heads began meandering in and out of the Lodge. Those family members in campers fed those in cabins. The young people in the Lodge staggered and stumbled down the stairs and out the front door to join their own parents. I fed the boys and while eating, the twins announced they were going to show a couple of Cedric's grandson's how to shoot their sling shots. Wolfing down their meal, they deposited bowls in the dishwasher and were off. They were certainly more energetic than Ollie and Luis, who both looked pretty well frazzled.

Ollie and Luis helped us clean up the kitchen and Craig and Loren helped clean up the Great Room and what little there was left to do in the meeting room where the reception was held. Bags of garbage in hand, we were leaving the Great Room, I heard a scream and the sounds of two gun shots, followed by Ollie shrieking "NOOOOO!"

Dropping the garbage bags, we darted to the porch to see what the problem was. I was the first out the door and, greeted by two more gun shots, felt a slamming punch to my left shoulder area, stinging, burning, and suddenly weakening me. Sinking to the porch floor, my legs seemingly unable to support me, I saw Luis stretched across Ollie's lap, blood oozing from his chest and side. Through eyes dimming quickly, the assailant, visible fifty or sixty yards away, face covered with a ski mask, appeared to be fumbling with a hand gun of some sort.

At the time, I thought it must be jammed! I wanted to run out and wrench it from his or her grasp, but found it most difficult to get up. I continued to watch him and saw him flinch, clasp his face, and then drop to one knee, dropping the handgun. The fucker struggled in getting up and, once upright, began a halting, limping run toward the woods, flinching one more time as he did so.

All about me there were shouts and the Twins were screaming while Leandro held me in his arms. Through the increasing darkness, I could hear Dr. Marc barking orders for someone to call 911, get his medical bag, and find Dr. Christopher. I looked again at Ollie, tears streaming down his face, as he continued to sob over his now inert lover. I asked Leandro to care for them, but he hushed me as Dr. Chris took over. Darkness finally engulfed me and I wondered if I would live or worse yet, Luis dead and Ollie mortally wounded.

To be continued

***

Thank you for reading "West Otter Lake – Chapter Twenty-Three - "When you say you love me, for a moment there's no one else alive." – (Mark Hammond/Robin Scoffield)

If you enjoy my stories and the many others found on this free site, please consider a donation to Nifty.  It is your donations which make all of our stories free and available for you to read and enjoy.  Thank you. 

Nick Hall

 

The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and are the property of the author.

Positive comments are welcome and appreciated at:  nick.hall8440@gmail.com.