Date: Thu, 1 Mar 2018 18:18:15 +0100 (CET)
From: john.matthews@tutanota.com
Subject: Noah and Mariu Chapter 3

 Dave 3

Jason's Bar Mitzvah arrived.  Jase was a total wreck.

"Noah, what will happen if my voice cracks?  What will happen if I forget
the tune?  What will happen if...?

"You will not forget!  I didn't work all this time with you for you to
forget already."  I sounded like our mother.

He stopped, looked at me and asked in a small voice, "Noah, will you stand
with me please, in the Temple?"

I felt my eyes tear up and I wanted to hug him so much, so I did.

"I would love to stand with you, but not today.  You're on your own. But, I
have a little gift for you."  We were outside the Temple.  The weather was
cold and I was wearing a bulky padded jacket.

Mumma and Pop knew I had saved and saved for this little gift.  Jason
entered the Temple and headed off to get a tallit (prayer shawl).  I called
him back.

"Don't ya want ya present?"

Usually gifts came after the bar mitzvah.  Jase smiled.  He told me later
he thought I was playing a practical joke on him.  From out of my jacket I
pulled a small blue satin bag with Hebrew writing on it.  He looked at it
and it spelled "Tallit".  He opened the bag and there was a brand new
woollen tallit for him.  I had bought him a large one, and it had cost a
bit under a couple of hundred.  Jase looked at me with tears in his eyes,
said nothing, but just hugged and hugged and hugged me.

"You are the best little brother a man ever had."

I kissed him on the cheek and said, "Get through today and you can say
`man' – you are still a boy, already."

Jase laughed and said "Chutzpah".  And gave me a play slap on the cheek.

Jase and I had taken to practising over at the Kleins.  Mumma did not take
exception to this, provided I kept her updated as Aunt Devorah was Israeli
and could correct any Hebrew mistakes.  I told mumma that Jase had learned
everything perfectly, but perhaps the voice... I left that sentence hanging
giving Mumma the wrong impression.  Mumma understood that Jase was doing
his best and an opera singer he would never be. Aunt Devorah helped us
along by telling mumma that the boys' Hebrew was perfect, and let's leave
it at that.  This implied everything that was important was OK, but that
Jase just could not sing.

In fact nothing could have been further from the truth.  Indeed the Hebrew
was perfect, but Jason's voice had settled into a mellifluous baritone.  It
was beautiful.  This was to be a surprise – perhaps our little gift as
well - for mumma and pop.

We were in the front row where the family of the bar or bat mitzvah of the
day sat.  There were five seats reserved with our names on them, Dov,
Rivka, Jason, David and Noah.  I almost cried when I saw Dave's name there
as well.  Mumma smiled at me and I knew she had organised it.  Dave arrived
with his parents and I waved him over to the reserved seat.  We looked at
each other and told each other "I love you" with our eyes. The Temple was
packed.  I didn't realize how many friends our family had.  Of course
zaydeh and bubbe had reserved seats as well, and of course they were there.

I had heard bubbe speaking Yiddish. She was telling zaydeh outside that he
was to behave.  This is a reform congregation and he was to behave.  This
was not orthodox and he was to behave.  He was not to shout at the rabbi or
cantor they were doing it wrongly, because this was a reform congregation
and he was to behave.  She finished up with, "This is your grandson's bar
mitzvah, and you will behave, do you hear me, you will behave."  He grunted
an affirmative.

The service started.  The various prayers were recited and it got closer
and closer to Jason's moment.  The torah scroll was taken from the ark, and
the rabbi called Jason to the scroll.  He squeezed my hand and I his.  He
looked at mumma and pop and at Dave, then at me.  I whispered "Make me
proud" and, wrapped in his new tallit, he ascended to read the torah.  He
looked wonderful and proud and humble and scared.  This was his moment.  A
total hush fell over the Temple so that his words could be heard even in
the back row.  He gave me a look – I smiled at him encouragingly (mumma
missed none of this and later said so) and he opened his mouth and
started. "Barchu et adonai..."  His voice quavered a bit on the first
couple of words and then our hours of practice took over, and his new
baritone soared over the congregation.  It was beautiful.  It was his best
yet.  I heard a gasp from mumma and an "ohhhh" from the congregation.  He
finished his portion, and then my father was called up.  This was the
tradition.  However, instead of the rabbi reading the portion for pop,
Jason had organised with the rabbi that he would read it.  He then called
up my mother (zaydeh almost had a heart attack) and the same thing
happened.  He called up zaydeh, who almost refused to go and Jason read the
next portion.  Then the rabbi called up bubbe (this time she and zaydeh
almost had a seizure) and Jase read those portions as well.  The Kleins
were then called and Jason did the same.  This left Dave and me out of
course, because we were not yet 13 and bar mitzvahed.  I whispered to Dave
that he would be called at my bar mitzvah, and he squeezed my hand.

Jason went through the rest of everything he had to do perfectly.  The
Rabbi made a short speech welcoming Jason as a man in the congregation and
what a marvellous job he did of the torah and haftorah reading etc etc etc.

It was then Jason's turn.  In a very short initial speech he thanked
everyone from Zaydeh down.  He thanked the Kleins and especially "my best
friend in the world, David, who sits with my family, even now".  It seemed
like he had finished.  He then said, (and winked at me), "I almost forgot.
Today would not have happened for me except for the littlest rebbe.  My
little brother Noah – Dave and I call him the rebbe – knows all of my
reading, knows all of David's reading, and has patiently, and I will also
say lovingly, taught us the cantillations.  I tease him all the time –
like pretending to forget to thank him, and calling him Squirt – but I
love him, out of all my family, I think I just love him the most. This is
really his day.  Come here, squirt."  I raced up to him and right there in
front of everyone in the Temple he gave me the biggest hug and kissed me on
each cheek to the applause of everyone.

Mumma and bubbe were openly weeping.  Pop had his hankie out and zaydeh
tried unsuccessfully to look stern.  Dave just looked at me with pride
shining out of his eyes, along with "I love you".  Even the Kleins looked
as proud as punch.  I whispered to Jase, "I love you big brother, and
mazeltov!"  I went back to my seat and Dave squeezed my hand.

Pop had hired a hall close by for the Sabbath lunch, the third meal of the
day and then a party that night.  It was an exhausting day and evening.  We
finally got home about 11. Jason had contrived to get Dave to stay over and
he was successful.  Dave and I slept wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning, breakfast was a rather languid affair.  Coffee and donuts
as I seem to remember.  Mumma did not look her usual brisk self.  However,
she did have a few words to say to me.

"Noah Hakoah, you are a conniving little skunk."  I wasn't at all sure what
this was about, but I had the feeling I was in trouble.  "You lead me to
believe that your brother, (the man)," she added parenthetically, "sang
like a rusty hinge on a farm gate.  He sings like an angel.  Indeed, the
angels could take lessons from him. And from you, the devil could take
lessons in deception."  (Pht, pht, pht. She pretended to spit three time to
keep away the devil.)  "There I am in the Temple with my ear plugs ready,
and suddenly I think Pavarotti has come to visit.  Come here you little
thug and let me hug you.  That was the biggest surprise and best present of
the day."  She gave me a big sloppy kiss and she gave one to Jase.  Dave
managed to drop his spoon under the table and ducked under to get it before
she could get to him.  Pop quietly chuckled.  I saw Jase suddenly jerk and
then did I.  Dave had grabbed our crotches.

"And you David Klein – I know the spoon trick and you can get your hands
of those boys' putzes."

We all gasped out loud at Mumma's use of the dirty Yiddish word.  I
couldn't help but giggle which started everyone else laughing.  And
suddenly it was a very jolly breakfast indeed.

*************************

The months trundled on.  Dave had his bar mitzvah in December of the same
year, and got through it without a hitch.  His voice was nice, but
ordinary.  No amount of rose tinted hearing aids could make it as melodic
as Jason, but he did not miss a note.  All his family and mine were called
up to the scrolls.  He also made a speech in which he expressed his thanks
to everyone and how much he loved them and (I almost fainted) how he
especially loves the littlest rabbi.  I gave him tfillin for his present
– they cost me nearly $400.  I had saved and saved and saved for them,
and in the end poppa gave me the final $80.

Two years later it was my turn.  Jason let me use his tallit, the one I had
given him.  I felt really proud about that.  My voice had really settled
into a reasonably strong tenor.  The cantor at the Temple had been giving
me voice lessons, but he was worried I might lose my voice if I was pushed
too hard.  I told him I didn't want to be a cantor.  I would prefer to be a
vet.  He liked that.  He laughed and told me that for a vet I had a good
voice.

 I continued voice training, but not as hard.  My bar mitzvah went without
a hitch.  The Temple was full, both families were there, and everyone was
called up.  My proudest moment was when Dave would not leave me when I
chanted the haftorah (a reading at the end).  He just stood by me and held
my hand.

I gave my speech.  I gave it three times.  Once in Yiddish as a present for
zaydeh.  Once in Hebrew as a present for Dave's mumma and dad who were
completely non-judgemental about Dave and me, and once in English so
everyone else could know how much I loved my families and Dave.

Dave of course stayed the night and our joining was totally passionate.  I
couldn't get enough of his taut body and his hands on mine seemed to
discover new places for my pleasure.  His hand, then his mouth on my cock
were perfection.  He drank my offering because now, my wrigglers were in
full flood.

We were two men together - not a man and a boy.

He wouldn't take me as he usually did.  After our first orgasm, and as we
were recovering in each others' arms, he whispered to me it was time for me
to take him.  Up to this point I never had taken him as I always had that
little boy idea of being too small.  But I had grown.  I hadn't really
thought about it, but I had grown.  As I said, my wrigglers were in full
flood and I had a small, light brown shrubbery– still plenty of room for
growth though.  When he suggested this I froze.  I didn't want to hurt my
Dave.  What if I did?  I couldn't bear the thought.

Dave took me in his arms.

"You're scared, aren't you?" he asked.

I nuzzled into his neck.

"Yes I am," I replied.  "I don't want to hurt you... I really don't."

He looked at me with concern and asked if he hurt me when we made love.

"Of course not, it's the best thing in the world." I kissed him.

"Well don't you think it might be the best thing in the world for me
too. Huh? Huh?"

He started to tickle me and I had to giggle and giggle which I always did
when tickled.

As he tickled me his mouth came on top of mine and he kissed me as well as
feeling for my assets. I loved him doing that and it turned me on
particularly strongly – oh yeah, very strongly.

I became compliant and melted into him. Dave was having nothing of it. He
did a sort of a flip and I was on top of him and he was on his back.  He
spread his legs and told me to lube him and myself. I froze for a moment,
and he said,

"Noah my man, my man, just do it."

When he said that all I could do was obey.  I lubed his arse and I lubed my
cock. I fingered some lube into his hole and I held myself ready as he
always did for me.  He put his hand on my backside and told me to push.  I
did and suddenly I was inside my only love.

Finally we were lovers in the fullest sense. His inner silky smoothness
massaged my straining dick. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. In a
sense I had because heaven is wherever my David is. I have never given up
loving him. The real wonder of life is that he has never given up loving
me.

I started long slow strokes and kissed him like never before. His body was
so smooth underneath me and that added to the magic. His cock pressed
against my belly and he bucked against me, rubbing it. I nuzzled into his
neck and kissed his ears. My cock could not stop even if I had wanted it
to. Our love was now being fully consummated and I could feel the urgency
in my balls rolling upwards towards the goal of now marking my man forever
as he had marked me.

Yes I had marked him. I had his virginity. He was now mine. He always had
been mine, but it was more. I was his. Now it was us together. It wasn't
possible to be more together.  Only death could split us, and neither had
any intention of dying soon.



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