Date: Thu, 28 Feb 2002 22:00:06 -0500 From: Jeff Allen Subject: Love of a Lifetime Part 4 This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now. The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author. LOVE OF A LIFETIME PART 4 Rev. Baker's sermon that Sunday morning was on finding joy. He said that we humans too often overlook joy and that we need to take time to appreciate all the joyful things around us. I was impressed, this man's words had connected with my emotional needs two Sundays in a row. I noticed that Emily Johnstone was slower moving than she had been the previous week. She was clearly out of breath by the time C.Z. and I got her from the church to the car. I asked C.Z. if he wanted to run that afternoon, but he said he had to do some mowing around the Christmas trees to get the paths cleared so folks could move easily when they came looking for their tree. I volunteered to help so that afternoon Larsen and I cleared branches and used the weed eater to trim around the Christmas trees. At least I helped. Larsen kept finding branches and bringing them up to C.Z. or me for us to throw. The day was clear but much cooler than the day before so we kept our shirts on as we worked. I was disappointed because that meant I wasn't able to look at C.Z.'s body while we worked. That evening I picked up some take out Chinese food to bring back to the Johnstone's for dinner. C.Z. insisted on paying for part of the food. Emily Johnstone didn't eat very much, but she did take a lively part in the conversation during dinner. We all laughed and enjoyed the dinner. All of us were tired so Larsen and I took our leave right after dinner and headed home. ******** We had a heavy, cold rain the last week of October that stripped all the remaining leaves off the trees. The mountains suddenly had the melancholy brown and barren look of November. C.Z. and I got together on the weekends but didn't see each other during the week because he was so busy with the paper route, driving the school bus, school and homework. He usually called once or twice in the evenings during the week. C.Z. always did the calling since I was reluctant to call their house in case Emily had already gone to bed for the night. I found projects for him and me to work on around the house on Saturdays. I insisted on paying him for the work, and I fed him lunch and often dinner as well. On Sundays, I usually met the Johnstone's at church. That gave me another opportunity to see C.Z., but I found that I also enjoyed the experience of the service and Rev. Baker's sermons continued to be interesting and helpful to me personally as I continued to struggle to make sense of my feelings for C.Z. I helped C.Z. with preparing the Christmas trees a couple of more times on Sundays before Thanksgiving, but most Sunday afternoons he stayed home to do their laundry and tend to his mother. On Saturdays after finishing whatever job had been scheduled for that day, C.Z. and I would jog and then do some light workouts with the weights taking turns spotting for each other. We always took our shirts off while working out. I enjoyed seeing his muscles strain with the weights and having the occasional skin to skin contact as we worked. C.Z. got into the habit of bringing a change of clothes with him when he came over. After jogging and working out with the weights, we would take turns in the shower. After his shower he always pulled on the old sweats and tee shirt that I had loaned after our "accidental" first meeting. I didn't mind because that meant I had a good view of his cock unfettered by any underwear moving beneath the fabric of the sweats while we ate dinner. I suppose he did it to tease me. It worked. He would change into his own clean clothes when he was ready to go home around nine or ten in the evening. Often we traded back rubs before or after dinner. Another reason I didn't mind him wearing the sweats was because they rode very low on his hips allowing wider access for my hands and fingers as I massaged him without having to decide whether or not to take a chance and stick my hand INSIDE his pants. We became more familiar with each others' bodies, and each time we were just a little more bold in what we touched and how far down the other person's ass we would go. By the weekend before Thanksgiving our range of massaging extended around the shoulders to the front of our necks to the collar bone. We had extended the range of our hands on the side to include the outer edge of the pectorals and the intercostals. The previous weekend C.Z. had loosened the tie of his sweat pants before lying down for his back rub. The looser waist let me get my hands about half way down the globes of his ass and bring my fingers around to the front of his hip bones. On that Saturday evening before Thanksgiving I made sure to wear sweat pants sans underwear myself and loosened the draw string before lying down. After working my shoulders, sides and back, C.Z.'s hands moved down to the area of my waist. Soon he was moving across the top of my ass cheeks and around front to my hip bones. His thumbs moved into the top of the crack of my ass with each stroke. Suddenly I felt his hands on my left thigh working the muscles through the fabric of the sweats. This was new territory! He had never touched me there before during a back rub, and I must have jumped a foot at his touch. "Lift your hips up." I complied and he pulled the sweats down over my rear end to about my knees. Since I wasn't wearing any underwear my naked butt was staring him in the face. He brought his hands down onto my thigh again and started working the muscles. I thought I was going to have an orgasm right then! He gradually moved his hands up both thighs toward the area where my legs joined my ass and then I felt his fingers move ever so slightly into the crevice of my ass and up over each cheek. Again I thought I was going to cream the floor! Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take any more, he playfully swatted my butt, stood up, and announced that it was time for him to head home. I was both frustrated that the massage had stopped and relieved that I wouldn't embarrass myself by cumming all over the floor. I stayed on the floor while C.Z. got ready to leave. There was no way I could get up given the state of my arousal. I couldn't even turn over on my back or side so I pretended to be dozing. As soon as he was out the door, I rolled over and jacked off. I was so turned on that it only took three or four strokes before I shot a huge load all the way up to my chin. ********** C.Z. and his mother came out to my cabin for Thanksgiving dinner. I had asked the week before what he and his mother did for Thanksgiving, and he'd replied that they didn't do anything special. Despite carrying the names Carter, Zebulon, and Johnstone, all common names in Carterville, the closest relatives they had in town were second cousins, and they didn't get together with them very often. C.Z. said that his mother used to make a big dinner before her heart troubles started, but now it was too much for her, and it made no sense for him to do a big dinner for the two of them especially since Emily didn't eat very much. So I invited them to come over for Thanksgiving. After they'd accepted the invitation I had a few moments of panic. This could be a disaster in the making; at the very least it was going to be a real adventure in stretching my cooking talents. I'd never done a turkey and dressing before. Grams had cooked the meals when I was growing up, and when Andrea and I were married we always got together with other yuppie couples and shared the cooking duties. I got advice from Nancy at the bank on how to cook the turkey and make the dressing. She made it sound easy, but I was still nervous about making a big meal. I shouldn't have been nervous. We all had a great time. Emily sat on the couch with Larsen and alternated making suggestions with laughing at C.Z. and me working in the kitchen. Thank heavens I'd managed to get the turkey in the oven before they came over! C.Z. brought over a pumpkin pie that he'd made under Emily's direction. Together he and I peeled potatoes and prepared the salads and vegetables. Everything got done at about the same time, and the meal was tasty even if it was my first attempt at a holiday meal. ********** The next morning I went over to the Johnstone's to help with the Christmas tree sales. C.Z. had warned me that customers would start showing up bright and early on the day after Thanksgiving to pick out their trees, and he was right. There were already two strange cars in the drive when I arrived at 7:30.. The process was simple. The potential customers were given a measured pole and a strip of plastic tape to tie around the tree of their choice and invited to walk through the tree stand to find the "perfect" Christmas tree. Sometimes whole families...moms, dads, kids, and dogs...were running around eyeing the trees. When the right tree was located, C.Z. or I would take the chain saw, cut the tree, haul it out, and help load it into or onto the customers' cars. The entire three-day weekend was busy. I lost count of the number of trees that moved out of the lot with most of them going to Asheville and Atlanta, and even some to Charlotte. Larsen enjoyed the whole process. He had children and other dogs to romp and play with. He had a constant supply of fresh throwers for his sloppy, slobbery tennis ball and constant attention. Both he and I were exhausted by the end of each day. During the times when C.Z. and I weren't cutting or hauling or loading a tree, he told me about the process of raising Christmas trees. It was much more labor-intensive than I had ever imagined. I'd thought you just planted the trees, waited a few years, and then cut them. He explained about the trimming, fertilizing, pest control, and marketing. This was the Johnstones' major source of income so the whole process was critically important to them. C.Z. warned me that every weekend from Thanksgiving until Christmas would be filled with folks getting their trees. He said that they'd even had people knocking on their door on Christmas Eve to get a tree. Again he was right. Those four weekends were busy from sunup to sundown. Larsen and I helped both days of those four weekends, and we fell into an exhausted sleep each night. The weather stayed fairly mild for that time of the year right up until two days before Christmas. When the cold and snow finally arrived, they arrived with a vengeance. The snow started around noon on the day the public schools got out for Christmas vacation changing the mountains from the bare, dull brown of late autumn/early winter into a white fantasy land straight out of a Courier and Ives scene. After living in Charlotte for four years, I'd forgotten how beautiful the snow could be. I'd also forgotten how slippery the damn stuff made the roads. Even though I had four wheel drive in the truck, I slipped several times the first few days before I got used to driving in the snow again. C.Z. and his mother came out for Christmas dinner. Emily stayed on the couch with Larsen at her side and offered suggestions as C.Z. and I put the dinner together. It snowed lightly during the day. We had a fire going in the fireplace. It was a nearly perfect day. After dinner we exchanged presents. Emily was always cold because of her poor circulation so I gave her a warm cardigan sweater. I gave C.Z. a fleece- lined winter coat to replace one that had definitely seen its better days. Larsen got a box of dog biscuits. C.Z. and Emily gave me a winter scarf and gloves. It was a simple Christmas but emotionally satisfying. After the gift exchange, C.Z. took Larsen outside to chase snowballs. Larsen LOVED chasing snowballs, but it frustrated him at the same time because he could never figure out where the things had gone when they disappeared into the snow. It was great fun for the humans! With C.Z. out of the room, I took the opportunity to okay some plans with Emily for C.Z.'s 17th birthday the first week in January. He was a basketball fan, and I wanted to take him to game at Chapel Hill. I had arranged for the tickets and had secured someone to stay with Emily and check on Larsen while we were gone. Emily warmed to the plan immediately. "I feel bad that C.Z. has to miss out on so many things that teenage boys should be doing because he has to take care of me." "Emily, I've never heard him complain about that." "No. He never complains. He has all of the sense of responsibility that his father lacked. Still, he deserves to be able to do some 'normal' kinds of things. You've been a great friend for him, Andy." I blushed. "I enjoy having him...and you around. It's like he's the younger brother I never had." "I know. I can see the connection between the two of you. You've been a tremendous help with the paper route and the Christmas trees. It eases a lot of the burden from C.Z. Thank you." Before I could reply C.Z. and Larsen came bounding in from the outside. Both of them shook the snow off leaving big clumps by the front door. Larsen ambled over to his spot in front of the fire, and C.Z. settled on the couch near his mother. I told C.Z. about my plans for his birthday. His eyes grew wide. He looked over at his mother for approval, and she nodded. He jumped up, came over to my chair, and gave me a hug. In all of the physical contact that we'd had with the backrubs, we had never shared a hug. I hugged him back. He whispered in my ear. "Thanks, Andy. I love you." "I love you too, C.Z." I saw tears in Emily's eyes. (To be continued)