I probably should point out that I'm not anti-religious -- every modern religion teaches peace and love, and the repudiation of hate. Unfortunately, there are preachers, rabbis, and imams who claim hate and fear to be the message of their god; and, even more unfortunately, there are people who believe them. So, I'm nowhere close to repudiating the God of Christianity in this story; but hate-mongers who claim to speak for Him are fair game.
This story is gay fiction. It is copyrighted and cannot be reproduced in any medium without my express permission. If you are a minor in your country of origin, don't read.
I have two other series running on Nifty: GLOBAL ENTERTAINMENT appearing in the Incest folder and ILLUSIONS in the Beginnings folder. If these two stories don't give you enough hot vampires and mortals, Starbooks has just released my LOVERS WHO STAY WITH YOU, and that has 28 tales that'll have you offering your neck to the next guy who offers to lick it. <G> You can help Nifty by using its link to A Different Light Bookstore when ordering this book.
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I was dragging when Henry and I finally got dressed and got in the car for the ride down to his father's home. I woke up when Ralph Taylor opened the front door of the house as we pulled in.
Henry could tell me that his father accepted him being gay and that Ralph even partook of the forbidden fruit with his cousins from time to time. He'd told me that just before we'd gone to sleep, and I'd believed it. Only, now, I was going to spend time with his father, chat with him, and eat with him. And Ralph would obviously know where his son had spent the night. Henry might be six feet tall and have nine inches of dickmeat, but he was still Ralph's little boy. His only boy, for that matter.
I was wide awake, alert, and uncomfortable as hell as we left the car and walked to the steps. As I drew closer to him, I realized that Ralph was sporting a smile and that it didn't look forced.
Maybe things weren't going to be too uncomfortable, after all.
Just in case they were, however, I wasn't quite ready to relax.
Ralph was again effusive as he greeted me. Henry took off to wash up as I was led back toward the kitchen. Mama Taylor already had large glasses of iced tea set out on the table as Ralph motioned for me to sit beside him.
"Have you thought any more about what we were talking about last week?" he asked and reached for his glass.
I shook my head. "It was pretty hectic this past week."
"Girl troubles?" he asked, looking over at me as he brought the glass to his lips.
I felt my ears burn but smiled. "That too, Ralph," I admitted. "Mostly though, I was going through dad's stuff and making sure that his clients were taking care of."
I was fibbing some, but there was a lot to be said for letting Ralph Taylor, or any client, think that being a good investment counselor took up a lot of a guy's time. After all, it's the client who pays the stockbroker's fee.
"Those fucking Arabs!" Ralph growled low, and Mama Taylor standing at the stove at least pretended that she hadn't heard him. "I sure am sorry about your Daddy, Sammy. He was a good man."
"Thanks," I told him and, for a moment, the shock I'd felt September the eleventh crashed over me again.
I pulled myself back from it, shutting it off. I took a swallow of tea, taking an extra moment to pull myself back together. "Why don't you lay out your ideas again and how they generated so that they're fresh in my mind?"
He leaned back in his chair. "Well, this man from down in the hollow -- we used to go to school together -- he called me up back in August and told me there was a lot of money to be made by cutting the mountain's forest."
"Mr. Euston said yesterday that it was men like you who keep Taylor Mountain going strong," I told him. He grinned from ear to ear. "Only, he said that we weren't going to cut down the forest."
Ralph's smile faded fast. "That damn old Mr. Sam," he grumbled. "We aren't little kids any more needing our daddy watching over us."
"I don't know. Why does old Mr. Sam hold all the power on the mountain?"
"That's the way it's always been," Henry said as he came up to the table and sat down. "Old Mr. Sam says to jump and everybody up here asks how high."
"Henry!" Mama Taylor warned from the stove.
Ralph took a deep breath and let it out slow. "The boy's right as far as he goes, Sammy," he said a moment later.
"Back in the thirties and forties, none of the Taylors had a pot to piss in -- not his children and not any of his sisters' families. We had the mountain and that was it. Old Mr. Sam became a preacher and kept all of us going. He saved up some money too from what I understand."
He studied me for a moment. "You've got to understand, Sammy. He didn't like doing that. He knew he was telling people what they expected to hear, not what they needed to hear."
"Were the Taylors religious before he did that?" I asked.
"You mean Bible-pounders?" He shook his head. "Old Mr. Sam and his daddy too didn't go in for all that hellfire and sulfur nonsense. None of us here on the mountain are atheists or anything; we just do things different up here. We believe in God -- a merciful, forgiving, loving God. Only, that isn't what folks have been preaching for almost a hundred years in these parts."
"But Sam went out on the road, preaching from tents and everything?"
"Those nickels and dimes added up quick enough, Sammy. Old Mr. Sam could talk a man out of just about anything and he used all that skill to spread the fear of damnation among the yokels out there in those days." He shook his head. "He didn't like it. It embarrassed him to tears, like it did his sisters and all of their kids. But he did it so that his family could eat and have good clothes. So we could keep the mountain, too."
"Then, my grandfather went off to war."
"Mine did too -- only, he didn't come back like yours did."
"There were three boys, Sammy -- Euston, Junior, and Henry. Henry got killed in Italy, leaving a young wife and baby son here on the mountain."
I nodded. "So, Sam came back and went to college on the GI bill. He became a stockbroker and moved to Atlanta, right?"
"Yeah. And he invested everything old Mr. Sam had. That was the deal he made -- Junior would make all the Taylors here money -- only, most of it would stay with the foundation which old Mr. Sam controlled. Euston went off to the university and learned how to manage land so it wouldn't erode or anything. And the three of them would run everything."
"That was the deal?"
Ralph shrugged. "It was a good deal. Junior grew old Mr. Sam's money right fast. By the early sixties, each family got a little share from the foundation to call its own. It was theirs -- Junior and then your daddy grew that good too. What're the individual families worth now?"
"There are a hundred families -- each worth about half a million each. There's the foundation as well -- it's worth about fifty million dollars right now."
"It's grown that much in just ten years?" he mused, shaking his head.
"It'll double again in seven years, Ralph -- those funds are averaging ten percent."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mama Taylor piling pork chops on a plate. "I think I'd better go wash up."
When I got back to the table and saw what we were eating, I figured I'd better start running on the mountain in addition to my five miles through Piedmont Park. And I wondered how Ralph managed to stay reasonably slim. Admittedly, Mama Taylor was heavy, but she was the only one in this family. Serving green beans with breaded and fried pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy did not make for a low calorie meal.
"So," I said, sitting down and opening my napkin, "Everybody on the mountain owes Sam Taylor. That's why everybody lies down and rolls over when he tells them to."
"It's not like that, Sammy," Ralph cautioned. "Though, that's how Janet sees it, too."
"And you? You're the one trying to sell me on strip-clearing the mountain."
"I think we sometimes get a bit too hidebound up here for our own good."
"Okay, so some guy you went to school with approached you about cutting down the trees."
"Yeah," he mumbled around a piece of pork chop. "Zack Butts down in the hollow called me up out of the blue around the end of August. Said he could get a good price for hardwood if the Sam Taylor Foundation let him cut the forest. He'd cut it and haul it out."
"How much is he willing to pay for this lumber?"
"We didn't get into it that far. I told him the Foundation would have to decide to do it before anybody would talk prices with him."
"And old Mr. Sam isn't interested?"
I felt toes touch the inside of my leg and almost dropped my fork. I glanced over at Henry. He was avoiding looking my way but had a little smile playing across his lips.
"I have the impression he doesn't change his mind very often," I told Ralph as I toed off one of my loafers, ready to return the favor.
"He's a pigheaded cuss, all right," Ralph said. "But you could maybe bring him around."
Henry scrunched down in his seat and the toes and ball of his foot found my crotch. He started rubbing his foot over my balls. I almost jerked away but forced myself to remain where I was. I didn't want Ralph or his wife to figure out what their son was doing.
"How do you discuss anything with that man?" I grumbled, trying to keep my mind on the conversation. I was hard under Henry's machinations.
"It is sort of hard, isn't it?" Ralph's face flushed.
"After the talk yesterday with Euston, I think it'd be easier to push your other idea first."
"My daughter Janet's idea for a convention center?" he asked with surprise.
"For God's sake, why? That lumber means a lot of money and no cost to any of us."
"Think about it," I told him. "From the beginning, Sam Taylor has sought to hold this whole extended family together -- all generations of it -- here on the mountain. Each family is taken care of, none of you have to work to live. But your young people are starting to leave the mountain to find jobs that they want to work at."
"They've been leaving since my generation," Ralph said ruefully.
"It's not like we haven't been taken care of, Sammy," he continued and I had the impression that he was explaining things more for himself than for my understanding. "It's just that a man needs to feel useful." He looked over at his wife. "A body does. Having somebody take care of you all the time is fine when you're a young'un but..."
"That's why I think Sam might be willing to open up the mountain some," I said quickly. "To give your young people opportunities that will allow them to remain and be a part of the family as it grows into a new generation." Henry's foot was doing a real number on my crotch; it was hard as hell to keep my mind on the conversation.
"He might just like that," Ralph admitted. "It'd fit in with everything that he's done here for us." He grinned suddenly. "Damn, but that daughter of mine sure has a head on her shoulders!"
"Euston thinks that you do too," I reminded him. He beamed.
Henry grinned over at me and pushed his chair back. "You'll be wanting to head out for Atlanta soon, Sammy," he observed. "Want me to go back up to the house with you to straighten up?" He was straight-faced as hell. His voice wasn't betraying any lust at all.
"That'd be nice," I told him. I wondered if I'd be able to hide my boner until I could get out to the car.
"You boys go on up there and clean up," Ralph told us and smiled knowingly at me. I felt the blood drain out of my face; I was suddenly clammy all over. I couldn't believe that Henry's dad was giving me the okay to pork his son. I could, but I couldn't.
* * *
I followed Henry up onto the verandah but, at the top, turned to look out over the forested slope. The stand of trees through which the drive ran was solid; even on a sunny early afternoon, its interior was dark. The trees before me formed a wall that encircled the clearing.
I'd learned last weekend that it was not a solid wall. There were trails through the woods, there was no underbrush, and there were grassy clearings. In fact, I felt free out there among the trees. They gave me seclusion. With their leaves beginning to turn, they were beautiful.
I tried to imagine them gone. That wall, the freedom I felt within them, and the beauty of the mix of green, orange, red, and brown. And I failed.
As I turned to follow Henry into the house, I knew that I didn't want to look out at the access road from the verandah. I liked the idea that nobody could see me at home unless they were an invited guest.
Inside, following the stairs up to the bedrooms, the cathedral window forced the panorama of the mountain's forest on me. I couldn't imagine looking down on fields that would already be dead this time of the year. I couldn't imagine the unbroken forest not being there. Nothing that I could imagine would be able to replace it.
I looked around to see a naked Henry studying me, his hand a fist around his meat.
"I can get dressed if you don't want to do anything," he said, his voice tentative.
I glanced over my shoulder at the wooded mountain through the window. I knew that Ralph Taylor wasn't never going to enlist me in his effort to cut out the forest. Smiling, I climbed the last step -- and started across the landing toward Henry and my bedroom beyond.
"I want you bad, Sammy," he said softly as I approached him.
"You just had me this morning." I pulled my shirt over my head as I toed off my sneakers.
"Yeah, but I'm not going to get any more of you for another whole week after this."
I chuckled as I opened my jeans. "Get a raincoat out of the drawer then."
I looked over at Henry, my fingers still on my zipper.
"Don't you understand that we don't need rubbers?"
"Why not?" I demanded. "True, we didn't use them at all yesterday but I forgot and you and Sam weren't helping any."
"Sammy, you had a second helping of old Mr. Sam's blood last night."
"Sammy! Us boys here on the mountain don't even get colds after we've hit puberty and old Mr. Sam's brought us into the fellowship."
"What fellowship?" I realized what he said. "You never get colds?"
"We don't get sick, Sammy. No cancer, no colds, no sex diseases, no AIDS. Nothing."
"Does that have something to do with drinking Sam's blood?"
"The second time does." He grinned suddenly. "You've got to avoid the third time, though -- else, you become a vampire like he is."
"Oh." I was still wrestling with this thing of Sam being a vampire -- when I let myself think about it. I was getting good at not thinking about it. Right now, I didn't want to think about it.
Henry moved to stand in front of me, his arms encircling my waist. I watched his lips come toward mine. Well, we hadn't used a raincoat when he plugged me yesterday or when we were fucking like rabbits with Sam last night. One more bareback moment wasn't going to make a difference. I stopped thinking about AIDS and vampires as Henry's lips crushed mine. My dick got hard behind my jeans. I kissed him back.
Our lips locked, his knob leaking into my bellybutton, and his hands on the small of my back, he led me to the bed. His hips pulled away from me as one hand came around to my front and the other gripped the waist of my pants. He had them open in a moment and both hands began to push and pull my jeans and boxers onto my legs.
He broke our kiss when everything started bunching up at my knees. "Sit on the bed, baby. I want you naked."
I sat, extending my legs out so he could get my clothes off of me. He jerked them off hurriedly but ran his palms slowly up the insides of my legs until he'd reached my balls. He looked at me then.
"Can we do what we did yesterday afternoon, Sammy? I really liked it."
"You fuck me?"
He nodded and I saw the yearning in his eyes.
"Don't get me wrong, Sammy," he said. "I love getting fucked and I really like it when it's you who's inside me. Only, now and then, I like using my dick, instead of my butt."
"Yeah, let's do it." I looked down at my hard dick drooling precum at the thought of the coming action. I remembered that I'd sucked myself off last weekend after Sam had popped my cherry. "Only, we're going to do it a little differently, okay?"
He searched my face suspiciously but nodded.
"I promise, it'll be good," I told him and mussed his hair. I reached out to him, my hands going to his hips, and he let me draw him to me.
I kissed his bellybutton and began to place butterfly kisses on his tight abs. I avoided his pecker; that would come later. When I had kissed both hips just beyond the edges of his bush, my tongue trailed back up the center of his belly until it found his breastbone. I licked up to his right nipple and sucked it hard as my fingers came up to tweak his left. Henry sucked in his breath and then moaned.
My hands moved up his flanks to his shoulders and I pulled him down to me. Our lips met again and my tongue darted into his mouth to claim it as my own. I laid back on the bed slowly, pulling him down with me.
His hands went to my butt, kneading my cheeks as his body ground against mine. His pecker rubbed against mine between our bellies and dominated it.
I wanted him. Inside me.
I raised off the bed with my elbows, our lips still locked. We sat facing each other, still kissing, Henry on his knees between my spread legs. I broke from our kiss then and just looked into his face, memorizing its shadows.
I brought a hand up and touched his cheek, tracing the angle of his cheek down to his nose with my fingertip. Henry was so real. He and Sam both were. What we did together was real. And they were both mine.
My hands moved to his shoulders and I laid back on the bed, my fingers tracing down Henry's arms to his hands. I brought my knees up to my shoulders, exposing myself. I felt the blunt hardness of his knob search for my hole.
"Give me a second," I told him and glanced down at my pole. Two inches or so and I could touch it with my tongue, four inches and I could suck it. "I've got to get my ass in just the right position for this, Henry."
I bent and twisted while he watched me, unconsciously stroking himself in time with some unheard beat. I got to where I could get the whole head into my mouth and looked up between my splayed legs at him. I grinned. "Take me, big boy," I told him and put my dick into my mouth.
I tongued my piss slit while I waited for Henry to move into position. He had to get to his feet and straddle the width of my pelvis to get a decent angle of penetration. As his dick began to enter me, my butt was pushed forward enough that I got another two inches of my pecker in my mouth.
My hands moved onto his legs as he began to fuck me. My dick moved in and out of my mouth in unison with his in my butt. His pole rubbed over my joy spot each time it retreated and each time it dove back in. My brain blanked as I surrendered to the sensations flooding out of my ass and dick.
I flew through novas as they exploded. I crashed through black holes and their tons of pressure crushed me. I strolled forever across endless space, using stars as stepping stones. Henry's dick driving into me over and over powered my flight as mine pistoning in and out of my mouth guided it.
I was ape. I was man. I was god. I was all three and more. I knew completeness that had never existed before.
That completeness became a ball of pleasure that concentrated at the base of my dick, encompassing both my pole and my butt in its sphere. The ball pulsed and exploded inside me, an instant mushroom of nuclear frenzy that erupted from my meat and flooded my mouth and clamped every muscles in my butt closed.
Instinctively, I swallowed and sucked, taking all that I could give. My cumchute clinched and gripped Henry's pole as it pushed through me a last time. He throbbed and expanded to shower my insides with his heat.
Afterwards, we lay on the bed, touching each other and covered in sweat. We were both spent. I couldn't imagine ever wanting to get up. Just to lie there, afloat on a sea of peace, was all I could dream of.
* * *
I entered I-985 outside of Gainesville and picked up speed as the car made its way to I-85 and Atlanta. On the two-lane roads out of the mountains, I'd had to put all of my attention on the road and drivers. Now, I could operate mostly on auto-pilot the rest of the way home.
I smiled as I realized I was far more self-aware than dad had ever been, or had allowed himself to be. I knew that I was gay after my second weekend on Taylor Mountain. Fortunately, I had found out about myself before I'd married or fathered children -- there was nobody to be hurt by my new awareness of myself. I also had two lovers who completed me far beyond what any woman had ever been able to do.
I had blond Sam Taylor to thank for my knowledge of myself. I still wasn't sure that I believed that he was my great-grandfather or that he was a vampire. That stretched the limits of my credibility to near the breaking point.
Vampires were make-believe. They were also demons. The boy-man who had opened my mind to what my body wanted and needed was certainly not a demon. He was a good-looking man. I chuckled. He was fucking well-endowed too.
But he did communicate with telepathy. I did believe that now. I'd seen it with my own two eyes. At least, I'd experienced it; I'd heard him inside my head. It wasn't hard to figure that he could control another man with his mind. After all, he'd put me to sleep the two nights last weekend when he'd fucked me for what, in my dreams, had seemed like hours. I had no doubt that he'd let me remember those coupling as dreams -- to let me come to accept myself before he made himself known to me.
He'd taken my blood; I felt my ears burn when I remembered where he'd bitten me. That wasn't exactly normal in any sexual scenarios I'd been in or read about.
I'd also taken his blood. If I believed Henry, I was now immune to just about any virus or germ. I hoped so, because most of the sex I'd been having on the mountain was bareback. And that left me damned exposed.
I figured it also ought to mean that any cut or scrape I got would heal quickly. That would be a boon if I tripped while I was running my five miles in the park. If it healed like super quick, I'd have to accept that Sam was who he said he was.
As I took the Techwood exit of I-85, I didn't expect that to happen, though. It couldn't -- because vampires didn't exist. I didn't know what Sam was; I was just pretty sure he wasn't what he said he was.
I stopped at the 14th Street intersection with the exit ramp. After I'd turned left toward the park, I realized what I was seeing -- asphalt and concrete. There was scraggly grass beside the sidewalks in a couple of places and even scragglier weeds in others. Midtown Atlanta was nowhere near as beautiful as Taylor Mountain. The sea of trees, their leaves just turning to reds, browns, and gold, was beauty. Midtown was a scarred battlefield where beauty had lost.
I chuckled as I crossed Peachtree. The blond named Sam had taught me something else besides self-awareness. He'd taught me to love the natural beauty of the mountain.
I turned down Juniper to get to 10th Street so that I could come back up Piedmont Avenue. I just hoped that I'd find a parking space on my first swing by. I felt a twinge of regret to be back in Atlanta again.