By the end of our third school year, we had already decided that Chris would spend a week on my dad's farm. We could only hope that the week would not pass like the three school years before it -- in the blink of an eye. He arrived the second week of July. My folks treated him like their other four children, including getting him up at 5:00 a.m. to help with the chores. He loved it and it made him appreciate me all the more.

Sunday -- On a warm sunny July afternoon we made love under a shady tree, hidden somewhere on the 500 acres of our farm. The warm July sun shone around us as we sat in the shade. The sky was pure blue, with a few high wispy clouds. The stream tumbled over the rocks, bubbled gently, and then spread its ripple to the shore. Above our heads a momma bird was taking care of her young.

Chris looked up through the branches, directing my glance up there too. He loved the sights and sounds of nature, teaching me to watch closely (not just look) and to listen (not just hear). He smiled broadly and then dropped his eyes back to me at the same time I looked at him. He kissed me on my forehead as I lay with my head against his chest, my back to the ground. His hand held mine.

"I'm glad I could come up here for the week, bud. It's so quiet and so relaxing."

He smiled again at me and then took my hand and brought it to his lips. He sucked on my fingers and kissed my knuckles. He placed the palm of my hand against his face and held it there. His eyes told me everything I wanted to hear.

He said "I am so in love with you, Joe. I ache so much apart from you."

His lips touched mine, just the soft wetness of his lips against mine, then on my cheek, to my eyes one at a time, to the furrow between my eyes, to my forehead, and then back to my lips.

After a while, we took off our boots and socks. I knelt behind him, putting my face into the fabric of his denim jeans, and rolled up his pant legs. I licked the denim, smelling a slight scent of musk, as I then rolled mine up. We walked from the shore into the middle of the stream, which was perhaps 40 feet wide at this point. The water was cold but so refreshing. I held his hand as I stood beside him in the water, looking upstream to see the gentle flow coming around a bend, mighty oak trees near the water, birds of all sizes and small wildlife flying and scurrying about.

A freight train, 1/2 mile away, stretched and crawled its way north to Canada. It took about 20 minutes before its great snaking form disappeared around the bend. The whistle sounded in the distance at a road crossing two miles ahead.

"Do you hear that, bud?" he asked.

"Sshhh, I'm listening."

He pulled me close beside him, held my hand down at our sides, played with my fingers, and put his head against mine as we closed our eyes to listen. We heard a symphony of nature, some of it sounds I'd never heard before.

"Do--"

"Sshhh, no noise my bud. Just listen. It's a concert, just for our ears. Enjoy the peace," I said to him.

He smiled at me, seeing what I was doing for the first time -- really listening. So we listened. We learned long ago that neither of us had to talk constantly to enjoy the other's company. Silence was not strained between us; silence was good when timed right, and welcomed amongst the hubbub of the noises on campus and in the city. We walked a mile upstream, exploring on land that I thought I knew well since I'd grown up here. Compared to the things he pointed out to me, I didn't know anything. My perspective was completely different than any other time I'd been here. I'd walked in the stream before, usually with a purpose, like fishing. Today I had no purpose except to draw in the landscape and to love my friend.

We came upon a flock of birds, sitting in the middle of the stream on a shallow sand bar. Some were asleep and some were poking into the water. Chris let go of my hand for a moment, ran at them and splashed loudly, laughing like a little boy all the while. The flock took off, spreading their wings to the air currents, drifting high above our heads on an endless supply of warm air. They circled and eventually landed in trees all along the stream.

"I am so jealous that they can fly," he said to me, watching the few stragglers glide effortlessly along.

Some landed while others took off. We stood back-to-back, letting our heads drop back to rest on the other's shoulder, pressing our cheeks together as we stared at the naked sky. I held both his hands in mine. I always ran my fingers across his knuckles when I held his hands. He liked it. A jetliner, headed for Boston four hours to the south, left a vapor trail behind. The white line dissipated and eventually faded into thin wisps. The sounds around us filled my senses, like I'd never heard them before. The sound of the water was soft as it bubbled along. There had to be a dozen different birds singing. The sky was 40 shades of blue. The trees and shrubbery must have been a hundred shades of green. I'd seen all this before, but I'd never looked close. What a cruel joke on me to have taken this for granted. I guess I had to move away from home in order to stop taking it for granted. I had played here joyfully as a child, but along the way the joy turned into routine. But Chris was changing my vision.

The sun was about an hour from setting. Chris and I walked back to our starting point, hand in hand, stopping occasionally to kiss. I was hard, showing an incredible bulge in my jeans.

"Jeez, you're going to strangle your poor cock, Joe."

Chris turned to face me, squatted down on his heels, and undid my button and zipper. My cock, released from the tight confines of my jeans, stuck straight out, pointing at his mouth.

He licked my cock as he freed my balls from my jeans, letting them hang low as he worked his tongue up and down my shaft. He knelt in the water, on both knees. Chris was not one to worry about wet jeans. He'd rather concentrate on my hard seven inches.

I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and continued to listen to nature's symphony. My senses were full. He swallowed my dick, letting it touch the back of his throat as he held it in his mouth, licking the underside with his tongue. He paid attention to the swollen head, the shaft, my balls, the terribly sensitive area between my ball sac and my ass, and then my ass too. His tongue was magic. He cared about nothing else except pleasing me when he was in front of me.

I stood there and watched him suck me. He looked into my eyes as his tongue worked and played on my stiff meat. He fingered my ass and I shook from the feelings. He knew that this was my sweet spot so he licked and lubed his fingers and probed my ass.

"Man, that's so hot. I love it, bud. Oh, I'm close; yeah, do it to me. God Chris, I'm going to ... "

And I did. My hot cum splashed the back of his throat and ran down to his belly. I came in five or six spurts, feeling dizzy and warm, fulfilled as the colors ran through my head. I doubted at the moment that my feet even touched the water. He knew my cock got real sensitive after I shot, so he wouldn't release his grip on it. I shook violently, trying to pull my dick out of his mouth. But I was still hard as a rock and he wouldn't let me go. My cock tingled up and down its length, reaching into my balls. He ran his tongue the whole semi-hard length, sucked down to the base, teased the head, and sucked the whole length again and again, making me shake until my orgasm was complete. I moaned as he finally released me.

"Man, do you know what you do to me?"

"Yeah, I make you shoot a lot of cum."

"Yeah, you make me shoot a lot of cum. And you fill me up. You are so selfless. How come I'm so lucky?"

"WE are so lucky -- we need each other. Know what?"

"Yes, I do know what. And I love you too, bud. I love you with all my heart. I want you inside me, Chris."

We got out of the water and moved the blanket into the sun. I knelt in front of him, undid his button, unzipped his zipper, and pulled his jeans to his hips. I exposed his hard cock and immediately went down on him. I swallowed him deep into my mouth, making sure I put plenty of spit on his shaft. As I sucked him, I knew that his hardness was going to be inside my ass any minute. I loved the idea of him entering me, filling me up with his manliness.

I lay down on the blanket and spread my legs for him. He was naked. He put my legs on his shoulders and held on to my legs. His seven and a half inches poked in front of him and he slid all of those inches into my butt. As usual, he did not hurt me. He thrilled me as he rubbed against my prostate, probing my insides with his hardness, nothing else on his mind but my pleasure. I pushed my ass up to meet each thrust. He so loved to fuck me slowly that I did not rush. His cock pulled out of me, to the swollen purple cut head, and then he let me swallow it with the tight muscle ring of my puckered asshole. I was tight and hot, just for him.

My ass belonged to Chris. No other guy had ever invaded my private inner place. The first time he had made love to me I was a virgin, giving my cherry to him. He too, as a virgin, gave me his seed that night. When I accepted his manliness and his cum, it bonded us forever. I had, in turn, taken his cherry the next morning, increasing the bond, making us one and the same, heart mates from then on.

He closed his eyes tightly, drew in his breath, and bucked as he shot his hot load into my ass. I could feel his cock getting slimy, knowing that his cum was lubricating his stiff shaft, letting it slide easier each time deep inside me. He leaned forward, nearly missing my lips because his eyes were still closed tight in the throes of his orgasm.

When he withdrew, soft and spent, he lowered my legs and put his weight on top of me. Our bodies merged into one as I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his back.

"I love you, Joe," he whispered, kissing my lips and my cheeks, still shuddering from his orgasm. "I love you so much."

I shivered as the warm air became cool, the sun setting over the mountaintop in the distance. I wrapped the large blanket around us and held him tight, pushing my tongue between his lips. My eyes were closed but I know full well what he looked like. His boyish good looks charmed my heart long ago. This man was simple in his needs. He made no demands of me and I made none of him. Love was strong and easy.

We started to dress, planning on heading back to my folk's house in a while. We sat at the shore of the stream, with our backs now to the setting sun, watching the huge orange/yellow moon rise over the valley to the east. The sky was the color of deep purple, the blackness of night taking over. On the blanket we were warm and fulfilled.

"Look Chris, there's the Big Dipper already. I can almost see the Little Dipper. There are a bazillion star formations out there and I don't know most of them any more. My telescope is at home, along with my notebook on astronomy. Some day I'll pick it up again."

I was endlessly fascinated by the heavens. I spent a lot of time out under the night sky when I was a kid. I would lie in the field before it was planted. I would lie in the short hay as it grew. I would lie in the long hay as it hid me from the rest of the world. I would lie in the snow of December and January. I would spend endless hours watching the seasonal changes in the sky until I knew at what time of year I could see the major constellations.

"Rob and I loved stargazing as kids, too," he said. "It's been a long time since I stopped to look. I like the winter constellations better, because I can pick out Orion immediately. Wow, look over there. You can see the Northern Lights."

The sky put on a show for us as we sat under its wide umbrella. Shooting stars crossed the Milky Way. Thin clouds crossed the moon. It grew a little smaller as it rose higher in the night sky, throwing its reflection down upon us two mates. We were selfish and said that it was our moon, as if we could possibly own it. We kissed as we enjoyed the astronomical show, all for free admission too. I held his hand to my face again, kissing the back of it. We lay down and he pulled me on top of him. He wrapped his legs around my legs and pushed his crotch into mine.

We were both hard again. Gee, what a surprise. We were like horny teenagers. He unzipped his pants, then mine, and then he put my hard cock in the opening of his jeans so that our cocks touched. I rubbed against him, sliding my uncut cock against his cut cock. Our lengths were closely matched. His skin was smooth. I licked his throat from ear to ear. He repeated this on me. He sucked my Adams Apple and then I sucked his, feeling his light whiskers against my tongue and lips. I moved to my right and licked his ear. He still loved when I licked his ear, first nibbling on his lobe and then running my tongue along the contour and finally into his canal. This was a guaranteed way to make him shiver. And when he did shiver, he shot his cum inside his jeans, followed closely by me shooting my load into his jeans.

When we were spent, I undid his jeans and ate our loads. My tongue slid over his wet skin. I swallowed some of the cream, knowing it belonged to both of us, not separating out his from mine. The bond; our cum mixing together was one more element to our inseparable bond. I saved some in my mouth and passed it to him in a kiss. He was clean and nearly dry when I'd finished licking the cream from his belly. I zipped and buttoned his jeans again. Even then he was semi-hard, so I played with his cock through the denim fabric. I moved it and shaped it, making it long and hard. I licked his crotch with my tongue and lips. I buried my face in it as I lay between his legs. He wrapped his legs around my shoulders and neck. I ate him through his jeans, tongue against blue denim instead of tongue against flesh. It was sensual, and we went on for fifteen or twenty more minutes. He threw his head back and then I knew he came again inside his jeans. I pulled the top of his jeans away from his body and sniffed deeply, smelling the wet spunk, rubbing it into his crotch. He smiled at me as I sat between his legs messaging his crotch.

We walked back to the house, our arms wrapped around each other's backs. The day had been our first together during this week of vacation. Today was Sunday and we had seven days to make friendship and to make love. In a month, I would be at his folk's house for a week, just before we returned to school in late August. I wondered where we would make love. I never wondered IF we would make love.

Monday morning -- 5:00 a.m. Welcome to vacation. Even on vacation, there are still farm chores to be done. Chris thrived at getting up early. We shared the room that belonged to my brother and me. My older sister was living away from home, so Brad took her room, allowing Chris and me to bunk together.

The sun was thinking about rising, but had not done so yet. We stood kissing in the breaking light of dawn, dressing at the same time. That's harder than it sounds. And of course we could not arrive at the breakfast table with hard-ons. We each took turns in the bathroom to get rid of the piss hard-on, not necessarily caused by the urine waiting for release. We were so horny, so obsessed with each other. He had once said that he was horny for my soul, not just horny for my body. Sex was part of the love, but the love ruled.

Breakfast was a bowl of cereal and some toast, with juice. Mom was a great cook, but we wanted to keep it simple. On another morning we would have eggs, bacon, etc. etc. etc. I didn't worry about the calories because I'd work them off in no time, but there was still a sense of not over-indulging so early in the week.

I showed Chris how to collect eggs and then went in the barn to help my dad and brother get the cows set up on the milking machines. One hundred and forty head of cattle needed to be milked twice a day, without exception.

With 47 eggs collected, Chris came back to the barn to help out.

"Oh sure, you couldn't come up with an even four dozen?" I teased.

"Not unless I laid one myself, bozo. I'm just the collector, not the producer."

I smiled wickedly at him. He blushed back. He spread hay for the animals and then let my dad show him the routine, which he quickly fell into. We moved hay bales, swept and shoveled (not exactly glamour work), and then helped get the cows out to the summer pasture. We watched the other work. What a life it was. I had taken it all for granted. Chris, doing it for the first time, knew it was hard. He also knew that everything on the farm was linked and even shoveling manure wasn't trivial.

"You've spent over 18 years doing this? Every day?" he asked me.

"Yeah, every day."

"You're amazing. This isn't an easy life. It's twelve to fourteen hours a day, 365 days a year."

"Yup. And I bet you love me because you see me breaking my back at the crack of dawn."

"I love you because you're my buddy. Seeing you break your back at the crack of dawn just adds to the mystery of you. You do this in the rain and in the snow? In the bitter cold of winter and in the heat of summer?"

"Yeah."

"I'm inspired."

"By?" I said, knowing full well what he meant, but wanting to hear it.

"By your life -- by your family. I've got it easy compared to you."

"Lemme see your hands. Ah, just as I thought ... 'white collar' hands. You've got no calluses. No dirt under your fingernails or deep cuts from barbed wire and rope. You got a city boy's hands."

"Yeah, and I'll slap you silly with these city boy's hands. Trouble is, you might like it too much!"

At 9:45 the routine, at least our part of it, was done. He stood and rubbed his back. It had to be sore and stiff. I immediately visualized him naked, lying down with me straddling him, messaging those sweaty muscles. I smiled, and I think he knew what I was thinking. 'Later' he mouthed to me. We went inside and changed into hiking gear. There were rock formations twelve miles east of town that I had told Chris about before. I drove us to the rocky slopes. We pulled into the parking lot across from a large pond. Mallards and geese swam together on the near-still water.

I hadn't done a lot of hiking, but I let Chris teach me how to do it right. He looked great in his T-shirt, shorts, white socks and hiking boots. For that matter, so did I ... well at least he must have thought so because he played with my butt and crotch for a few minutes.

"There, now you fill out those shorts nicely."

"Sure, tease me, see if I care. I'm a man, I can take it."

"Yeah, well take this then."

He slid his hand into my shorts and fondled my dick. Then when I was nice and hard, my head thrown back and my eyes closed, he stopped. He started climbing ahead of me. He looked back in time to see me give him the finger.

"You wish," he taunted.

"We'll see who ends up horny later on. And I know I won't be the only one. Damn, what you did to my dick!!"

"Get climbing, man, or I'll leave you behind."

The warm day was bright, the sky an incredible shade of blue, with large white puffy clouds floating carelessly in the sky. The touch of nature's breath on my back felt great. I sweat, but it was exhilarating and invigorating. And it kept my hard-on under control. Lord, how horny could I get? My thoughts may have been on my basket, but my stamina proved that I still was a young man who really could do more than just have sex. The thoughts of sex eventually faded as we climbed higher. The view was breathtaking. There were two large lakes in the distance that I'd not seen from this vantage point since high school. I actually heard the birds and stood and stared at them as they floated on the air currents. They seemed to tease me: "Look what I can do and you can't, stupid human."

But I didn't really care. My best buddy was at my side, holding my hand, sharing the beauty of the day and the scenery with me. What we felt, no bird would ever feel, so I had no jealousy for its ability when mine were truly greater. Nothing beats love; nothing.

Chris kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, "Thanks, Joe. This is awesome."

We were alone at the top of our little world, not a soul in sight. We climbed around the rocks, and then climbed even higher into a tall tree. I hate heights, but here I felt safe. Nothing could touch us up here, except the gentle breeze and the warm sunlight. We sat for a couple of hours, just holding hands and enjoying our time together. We didn't talk much. We couldn't, we spent all our time kissing. No one in the world was luckier than we were.

We had to be home before sunset, or at least I'd told my dad we would be. There was more work to be done and we'd slacked off enough. It was a quiet beginning to a busy week. The tree let us slip from its grasp and gently dropped us to the ground.

I wish we could stay and watch the sun set from here. It would be truly gorgeous. There would be other days to do that, so we climbed back down the side of the rocky hillside and drove toward home. Chris put his hand on my leg. He didn't go near my crotch. The hand on the leg was his way of saying 'I want to feel you. Just be near me and I'll be so content.' I placed my hand on top of his and soaked him up. Even though I know I needed him and he needed me, I had to keep asking why I was so lucky to have him. Was it really the circumstance of us being roommates?

My imagination let me tell myself that no, it would have been this way anyway because our paths were meant to cross. We were supposed to have met, at some place in time, and to have offered our hearts to each other. His cancer had proven that. It didn't scare me away from him, therefore it made us be deeper in love. He loved me, he said, because seemingly nothing scared me. Well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt me. If cancer didn't scare me away, it was doubtful anything else would.

Back home we helped bring in the cows, get them milked and fed, and closed up shop. Mom had cooked fresh trout that my brother caught today. The aroma of fresh baked bread filled the house.

After dinner Brad, Chris and I sat on the front porch, staring across the pasture at the rising moon. The peace of the night enveloped us. I sighed, knowing how these would some day just be memories. I watched everything closely so that I could recall vividly how beautiful the warm summer night was. The sound of the freight train heading south to the cities echoed through the valley.

We were all settled in by 11:00. Chris and I were the last to head upstairs. We sat and talked to the other as we took our turn in the shower.

We had privacy for now in my bedroom, so we stood and held each other, kissing, pressing our warm bodies together and whispering 'I love you' to each other. I watched him undress down to his briefs as I did the same. He slid into bed. I sat on the edge of my bed and just watched him.

"What?" he said, furrowing his brow for a second.

"Nothing. I just like to look at you. I can't wait until we can sleep in each other's arms again. I ache to hold you."

"I feel the ache, too, bud. I don't sleep nearly as well without you. School is only a month away; soon, my friend, soon."

"Night bud. I love you," I said to him.

"I love you too, my man, always."

I lay awake a few more minutes, waiting to hear his breathing change so that I knew he was asleep. He was still not sleeping by the time I drifted off. I could not see his eyes in the darkness, but I knew he looked toward me anyway as I looked toward him. He was the last thing on my mind as I fell asleep ...

... And the first when I awoke.

To be continued ...