Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2016 06:22:09 +0000 (UTC)
From: hankbrookscc@comcast.net
Subject: The Blacksmith

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			      The Blacksmith

				 Prologue

 I never knew my paternal grandfather.  How could I?  My dad was only ten
years old, when his dad went to war, World War I.  He was a blacksmith in a
small rural town in Poland.  My dad was one of four surviving children.  He
had an older sister, and a younger brother and sister.

 Grandpa never returned from the war, and my youngster-dad had to take care
of his family.  When he was just sixteen, he emigrated to New York, where
his mother's brother lived.  He worked in a shoe factory, and saved enough
money to bring over his whole family.  I tell you all this so you will know
what a fine man my father was.  He was definitely a saint in every sense of
the word.  He never had a bad word to say about anyone.  As the good book
says, the man even did his best to love his enemies, but actually, he
didn't have any.

 Then there was his mother, his father's widow, my grandmother.  She was a
witch, a bitch, and every other name I could call her.  I hated her guts.
Her two sons supported her, and she acted like The Queen of Sheba.  She
ruled her family with an iron hand, and they all did everything she
demanded of them or else they would suffer her wrath.  It was no secret in
the family that the marriage between my paternal grandparents had been
arranged by a matchmaker.

 My mother was a friend of Dad's younger sister, and my aunt introduced her
to my dad.  When Dad announced that he was going to marry my mom, Grandma
raised the roof, and forbade it, so they eloped and got married in her
brother's house in upstate New York.  When Grandma realized that my dad was
continuing to support her, she relented a little, but she still made Mom's
life miserable.  She successfully broke up my aunt's marriage after just a
few months.

 Grandma demanded that my mother name her second son after a young son of
hers, who had died in Europe.  My mother rebelled, and named my kid brother
after her favorite uncle.  Grandma never forgave my mother, and never
acknowledged my brother's existence.  She never even looked his way, much
less kissed or hugged him.

 On the other hand, I was named after her dead husband, so she tried
smothering me with love, while giving my brother nothing.  She didn't ask,
she demanded that I kiss her every time I saw her.  She always smelled of
fish, herring I think, which made me want to barf.

 Nobody cried when she died.  I think there was a collective sigh of
relief.  Also my dad and his siblings began to tell little stories about
her, which they had suppressed during her life time.  I had just turned
twenty-two when she died, and had just been discharged from The Marine
Corp, having served in Korea during that conflict.  After her funeral, I
was alone with my father, and I admitted to him how much I despised his
mother.  I thought he would be angry with me, but he simply sniggered.

 "Just before he left for the war," Dad told me, "my father took my hand
and we went for a walk along a small stream.  He told me how miserable my
mother made him, but he admonished me to take good care of her and my
brother and sisters.  It's almost like he knew he'd never return.  I'm
fully aware," Dad continued, "how miserable she made my father; how
miserable she made all of us."

 Frankly, I was surprised that my dad was being so candid with me.

 That night I lay in bed meditating on what my father told me, and I had an
epiphany.  Grandpa had never been on the front lines.  The blacksmiths were
stationed behind the lines in safe territory.  His body was never sent to
the family, and they did not receive any kind of government pension.  It
hit me that maybe Grandpa never died in the war.  He simply decided never
to come home in order to escape his bitchy wife.  I began to think about
various scenarios of what might have happened to him.  I conjectured that I
might even have a whole other family somewhere, but of course, since I am
gay, my scenarios were gay oriented.

		      Grandpa's Story as I Imagine It

 My grandfather did not have to go through any formal training, when he
reported for duty.  He was a blacksmith, and that's the job that he was
conscripted to do in the army.  In World War I, there were still many
mounted soldiers.  I don't know what they were called in Poland, maybe
Cossacks like in Russia, but they would be equivalent to our cavalry.

 Grandpa shared quarters with three other blacksmiths, and as you can
imagine, they became very good friends.  My grandfather was the eldest, at
thirty-three.  The others were in their young twenties, but he was tall and
handsome, and very lean and muscular.  He kept his beard trimmed, and he
always looked very dapper.  The other blacksmiths were all single, and for
whatever reason, Grandpa told them that he was single also, and only
twenty-five.  They believed him, and he was grateful.  Nobody likes to
think of himself as being different.

 Well, at least one of them was different.  Oskar was twenty-two.  He was
blond, blue eyed, and extremely shy.  When the others, including my
grandfather, were bragging about their conquests of some of the local
village girls, he remained perfectly silent.  He did not seem to mix well
with the other blacksmiths.

 All the men were aware of his endowments.  Their barracks had an outhouse
and a jerry-rigged outdoor shower, which they all shared.  Oskar had a
humongous uncut cock.  My grandfather found himself staring at it in the
shower, and he could swear it would start to erect.  But he wasn't sure.
Since Grandpa was, in reality, eleven years older than Oskar, he decided to
take him under his wing.

 One evening, he asked Oskar if he would like to go into town with him and
the others.  Oskar was surprised, but he said that he would like to.  In
town, Grandpa and Oskar went right to the tavern.  The others already had
`girlfriends' in town, and they were off in a flash.  Grandpa felt guilty
about the few times he had been with a local girl.  He was married after
all.  Neither he nor Oskar seemed inclined to rush to the bed of a willing
young girl.

 In the tavern, they had too much to drink, so they decided to go back to
the barracks to sleep it off.  They didn't expect the others to return
until early the next morning.  Back in the barracks, they undressed down to
their long johns.  They had adjoining bunks, and they both fell fast
asleep.

 In the middle of the night, Oskar awakened.  He had to piss out all that
booze badly.  He started to get out of his bunk, but when he glanced over
at Grandpa, he saw my ancestor in the moonlight.  He was clearly stroking
his cock, and making little sounds of happiness.  Oskar could not restrain
himself.  He jumped into bed with Grandpa.  The space was very limited.
"Let me do that for you," he said, and he took over the stroking from my
grandfather.  When Grandpa was close, Oskar stopped whacking him off.
Instead he took his friend's cock into his mouth, and finished him off with
his tongue and lips.  Grandpa groaned in sheer joy.

 In my grandpa's tiny little village, nobody had ever heard the word
homosexual.  Certainly nobody there was familiar with the concept.  Ergo,
none of them had ever been told that homosexuality was a sin.  In Grandpa's
defense, he had no idea that what Oskar had just done for him was in any
way wrong.  In fact, nothing that felt that good could be wrong, so Grandpa
asked, "Would you like me to do that to you?"

 "Oh yes, Oskar," replied, "But I have to pee first."

 Grandpa started out as Oskar had, by stroking him.  He wasn't savvy enough
to know when Oskar was cumming, so Oskar yelled out, "Now."  Grandpa got
the cue, and went down on Oskar.  He tried to emulate Oskar by using only
his tongue to complete the stroking.  Oskar was not too quiet when he
emptied his seed into Grandpa's mouth.  He had swallowed Grandpa's cum, so
Grandpa did as much for him.

 They lay still on the small cot for some time, fondling their cocks.
Finally, Oskar got up to return to his own bed.  "Can we do this again?" he
asked Grandpa.

 "Yes," Grandpa answered simply.  "That felt so good."

 The next time the four friends went into town, Oskar and Grandpa headed
straight for the tavern, and the others made a bee line to their
girlfriends' houses.  This time they didn't drink, but they rented an
upstairs room at the inn.  The moment they were alone in the room, they
looked at each other shyly, and started to undress.  When they were naked,
they stared at each other, each admiring the other's beautiful body.

 Then instinct took over.  They fell into each other's arms, and smashed
their hard cocks together.  They started to kiss each other, and both of
them were shocked at what they were doing, but neither cared to stop.  They
fell on the bed, and Grandpa expected Oskar to go down on him first, simply
because that's how they had begun last time.

 Oskar smiled at my grandfather, and he lay down on Grandpa in a sixty-nine
position.  "Now nobody has to go first, or go crazy waiting," he said.  He
took hold of Grandpa's cock and swallowed it.  Grandpa reciprocated.  They
sucked rhythmically at the same pace, and they came simultaneously.

 Afterward, as they lay prone on the bed, they began to fondle each other.
It didn't take either one of them very long to get hard again.

 "Let's do it again," Grandpa pleaded.

 "I have a better idea," Oskar said.  "When I was a kid in Krakow, I had a
friend.  We used to play together like this all the time.  One day we tried
an experiment.  We fucked each other in the ass.  It felt just like fucking
a woman.  I'd really like to do that."

 Grandpa was silent for too long, so Oskar asked, "So?"

 "Doesn't that hurt?" grandpa asked.

 Oskar answered honestly.  "Yes, at first, but when the pain goes away, it
feels fantastic."

 "Okay then, sure."

 Oskar thought it best to let Grandpa fuck him first.  They had nothing
they could use as a lubricant, so they used their spit.  It is uncertain
that Grandpa knew that lubrication was necessary, but Oskar did.

 Grandpa entered Oskar easily in a doggie position, and began to stroke as
if he was fucking Grandma.  However, there was a big difference.  This time
he was enjoying himself.  Oskar kept begging Grandpa to fuck harder.  He
didn't know how to fuck harder, but he fucked faster, and he came very
quickly.  He lay still on top of Oskar until his cock softened and fell
out.

 "That was wonderful," Oskar said.  "I wish it could have lasted longer."

 All Grandpa could do was to murmur, "Yes, indeed!"

 It was harder for Oskar to get his oversized cock into Grandpa.  He
entered slowly a little at a time.  Each time Grandpa said that the pain
was unbearable, Oskar pulled out.  Every time he re-entered, he went a
little further in.  Finally, Oskar announced that he was all the way in,
and they lay perfectly still, until Grandpa admitted that the pain was
gone.

 Oskar started to stroke, and his huge cock began to massage Grandpa's
prostate.  Imagine Grandpa's surprise, when at the precise moment he felt
Oskar's seed filling his bowels, he had yet another orgasm, and he spilled
his jism onto the bed sheets.

 Grandpa was amazed that he had cum so many times in less than two hours,
but he was even more amazed at the intensity of each orgasm.  Never had he
felt such joy when he fucked Grandma.  He admitted to himself that he
hadn't ever wanted to fuck her, but his libido was so strong, he worked
magic to arouse the frigid bitch.

 Oskar and Grandpa never thought that what they were doing was making love,
but that was indeed what they were doing.  They began to try different
positions, and different ways to delay their orgasms and make them even
more intense.  They didn't even realize how much they loved each other,
since neither could philosophically imagine, that two people of the same
sex, could be in love.  What they had between them could have been pure
lust.  In fact, it was just that in the beginning, but somewhere early on,
it turned to pure love.

 They continued their love affair until the war ended and they were
mustered out.  If the other two blacksmiths suspected anything, they never
said a word.  They were too busy fucking the nearby village maidens to
care.

 Oskar and Grandpa moved to Warsaw, and Grandpa adopted Oskar's last name.
They told everyone that they were brothers, and nobody turned an eyebrow
that they were living together.  Their sex life got better and better, as
time now allowed their experiments to get lustier and kinkier all the time.

 After WW1 there was little need for blacksmiths.  The automobile was
becoming king.  The two lover/brothers re-trained themselves as auto
mechanics, and opened a repair shop together.

 On January 4, 1962 Grandpa passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was 80,
but Oskar still thought he was about 70, and lamented his early demise.
Oskar didn't weather Grandpa's death very well, and he died two years later
to the day.

				 Epilogue

 Of course, I can never know for sure what Grandpa's true story is.  The
only thing I am convinced of is that he did not die in the war.  He found
himself a new life for sure.

 Grandpa would have been gun shy when it came to women, so I would like to
believe that what he had with Oskar was a gift to the pair of them from
that mystical creative force, many people call, God.

 More than anything else, I want to believe that from the moment he met
Oskar, Grandpa led a life of happiness.

I even forgive him for abandoning my father and his siblings.  In the end
they all did well in America, and turned out just fine, as did all their
children and grandchildren.