Jay and Miles 16
The first thing I noticed was the warmth—a body next to mine, sharing its heat and security; the faint scent of dried sweat and something more basic, the evidence of our love-making last night. I lay there, eyes closed, letting my mind wrap itself around my new reality: I was part of a pair now, no longer just me, and I liked it, though it also scared me; I had never been this close to anyone before—we were like one person in two separate bodies. I wanted to be everything he needed, since he was surely that for me—and that was a big responsibility. I could feel the gentle pressure of his arms wrapped around me, his legs both cradling and protecting mine; his breath wafting softly against my temple and ruffling my hair...its faint whistling acting like a lullaby to my mostly sleeping brain. I strained my ears to figure out what woke me, and heard a door close across the hall and steps heading down the back stairs: Linda was off to do the milking, so that meant it must be around 5:30AM. Sundays meant sleeping in for the most part, but cows needed a regular schedule to stay healthy.
I don't know how much later it was when the world snuck back into my consciousness—but the light fighting its way through the curtains to the right of my bed was tinged with pink and gold once I finally opened my eyes. I could still hear my love's slow breaths, which brought a smile to my lips—he really didn't snore—much—but I had to tease him about something. It didn't take me long to figure out why I was awake now: we had shifted position so that we were mostly on our sides, and I was pulled back into the haven of his chest and lower body. My head was pillowed on his right arm while his left draped over my ribs to rest on my abdomen. His left leg was in front of mine—and it was that—well, what I noticed thanks to that—which roused me. I shifted just a fraction so that Mikey's long woody was now resting between my cheeks. Even through two thin layers of fabric, it felt like it was a pretty good-sized dick.
I let out a near inaudible sigh as I let myself relax into this new sensation. Last night we'd gotten the maximum pleasure from rubbing front-to-front while still in our underwear, but as I lay here now, this was decidedly different: more...intimate? I supposed all gay guys wondered what it might feel like to go 'all the way', and I was no different—but I'd never thought it would happen in this little town—especially since Mikey hadn't shown up for our meeting last Tuesday. What a difference five days and a bit of determination could bring! Not only did I have a new friend—I had a boyfriend—a very foxy one at that. I had no way to judge except from the locker-room at school—but I was pretty sure that he was packing more than the average six-shooter in his holster. Suddenly, the thought of that really registered—would I be able to handle it when the time came? There was no question at all in my mind that it would be me who would do this first—it was the most precious gift I could give him: the final step in building his confidence and breaking down the last vestiges of his isolation. Making love with my elskede would be intensely special because it was with him, but I wanted it to be just as meaningful for him, and as I lay there, I realized I didn't know enough about 'It'.
I thought back four years to far's Talk about puberty and sex, to see if I'd forgotten something in those intervening years. I remember him telling me that the basic ingredient to a good relationship was love—and that I had—then he'd gone on to describe the Act itself: what went where, whether it was with a male or female partner; what happened to my body during sex, and what response that would cause in my partner—all in pretty basic terms so as not to confuse my maturing brain. Even at thirteen years of age, I knew there was more to it than he'd said—it was like riding a horse: it sounded simple—jump on his back, and move around the yard—but there was so much more to it than that when you went to do it: balancing, moving with the horse, taking cues from him as he did with you, and all the things you needed to do before you even got on! Far could tell me more if I'd been straight—but he'd told me what he could about things like 'jacking off'—now I understood why he'd said last night that I should talk to his brother Mikkel pretty soon. I'll call him tonight—maybe today, if I could convince Mikey to talk with him also.
Thinking back to far's Talk brought a smile to my lips: I'd heard of 'jacking off' before that from whispers among the other boys in school, but I had no idea if any of them knew how it was done—but I thought I did after that day, and acted like I'd been given a new toy for Christmas. For more than a week, my hand was in my pants every spare moment I could find, and all I got out of it was 'rug burn' on my hand from the abrasion of my pants' cloth, and a sore dick—how was this supposed to be fun? I could still see that day almost two weeks after the Talk when Jerry and I had one of our own:
I had stormed into our room, slamming the door and throwing myself on the bed in aggravation. Jerry was doing homework at the desk, and he looked over his shoulder with concern written all over his face—he never resented that he had to share a room with me, since Linda had to have her own—and from the time I started walking, I followed him everywhere like a lost puppy. He called me 'J-Two' and he was 'J-One' after the Things in Dr. Seuss' book. When I started school, he watched out for me, showed me around, helped me with my homework—and best of all—he let me be part of his 'gang'! "What's up, J-Two?"
I started to cry, I couldn't hold back my frustration anymore. "It's broke—I can't make it work like far said!" Jerry came over to sit by me on the bed, pulled me up, and wrapped his arms around me like he did when I was little; it always made me feel safe and my tears dried up slowly. He tousled my hair and chuckled in his deeper-but-not-yet-stable voice: "Dad's cool—but he's not really at ease talking about 'sex stuff', Two." From his lofty height of sixteen years, I put him on a level close to dad's when it came to authority, so I believed him.
I watched as he locked the door, and then came back to the bed. "Show me how you do it," he said, and then added, "Whenever you do it or any other sex stuff—make sure the door is locked! There's nothing wrong with it—but it will save you a lot of embarrassment if you do." I'd bathed with him when we were little, so I had no qualms about pulling my pants down and pulling my dick out—and doing it with my pants down at least meant there'd be no rug burn—so I grabbed it in my fist and started pulling on it with all my might. Jerry could watch this for only a few seconds before he winced and held his hands protectively over his own crotch. "Fuck, Two! Fer Chrissakes, stop!" He sucked in a breath and tried to laugh. "It doesn't mean you should try to pull it off your body—you're supposed to do it gentle-like...pretend you're milkin' Bessie out in the barn."
I'd only been milking about a year, but I tried doing what Jerry said...and it did feel better, but I still couldn't see why it would make 'stuff' come out. Jerry went to his dresser drawer and came back with a bottle—I watched him put a little of its white contents in his palm then spread it around a bit, before he moved his hand to replace mine. "Just this once, Two—I'll show you how it's supposed to feel, then you can finish it yourself, okay?" I was glued to every movement he made, and tried to memorize every slight pressure and speed change. In a few minutes, it was beginning to feel good—great in fact—when he let go!
"Now you know as much as I did when I started—remember—lock the door!" He got up and turned before leaving the room. "You can use that stuff to make it slick—it's called Aloe and is good for sunburn. Carry a hanky with you to wipe off." Just as he was closing the door, I blurted, "That's it? What do I think about when I do it?"
He gave me a grin as he shut the door. "It's different for everybody—think about a person you like a lot, and what it would feel like if they did it to you."
So for the next six months, until 7th Grade, I thought of my brother....
I had closed my eyes against the dawn's light as I lost myself in thought, but I was in no way sleepy. I must have groaned, or shifted or something because my eyes snapped open when I felt a movement on my stomach. Mikey's hand was drifting down toward my shorts and the morning bulge, which seemed to be a constant fixture these days. Was he awake, or still sleeping? I couldn't tell, but didn't want to wake him if I didn't have to—he wasn't raised on a farm, and he often complained that getting up in the morning before light to get to school 'sucked donkey dicks'. Until his hand actually cupped my package and squeezed I still wasn't sure—but that gave me my answer. I rolled over to face him, my head on his arm as before, but now just an inch away from his own sleepy countenance. Our bodies were still tangled, and I could feel that woody of his trying to say 'good morning' to mine. I was smiling like an idiot, but afraid to say anything with my 'morning breath'. Mikey didn't seem to worry about that.
"Say it again...," he whispered as his eyes locked on mine—their hazel-brown depths fairly glowed in the half-light. I knew what he meant, and any thought of joking by repeating his 'it' disappeared. My love for him was one thing I would never make light of.
"Elskede min..." I closed my lips with his and would have been content to lay there for the rest of the morning, but there were things we both had to do today. "We need to get up and shower—far will call us for breakfast pretty soon." When I threw back the blankets, I had to stop and admire Mikey's body for just a minute...and as my eyes travelled down his long form, I saw his wonderful bulging briefs were stiff and crusty from our night's activities—I guess we should have changed then, but I didn't want to leave him for even a second. I gave him another kiss, then climbed out and opened the bottom dresser drawer where I kept a few towels for the trip to the bathroom—I'd been caught once in the hall in my underwear, and had no desire to have Mikey go through that—especially with such clear evidence of what we'd been doing.
Our upstairs bath had the old claw-foot tub, but in one corner dad had installed a proper shower stall—a vital thing with three children and only one full bath in the house. It was big enough that we could have managed it together, but I didn't want to do that on my first 'sleepover'. I looked out into the hall, and then motioned for him to go. I watched his lanky backside until he shut the old wooden door. Damn he was one hot guy! I rubbed my dick as I turned back into my room...even more eager to talk to farbror Mikkel tonight—he'd be able to tell me what I needed to know about giving myself to Mikey.
My eyes fell on the red shirt and cream chinos he'd worn last night, and the only other things he had to wear were the jeans and sweater he'd had on yesterday morning. I knew he'd want fresh clothes after his shower—so would I—and that gave me pause until I remembered the box in my closet which contained some of Jerry's older clothes. I pulled it out and un-taped it to reveal the neatly folded contents: shirts in various colors with both long- and short-sleeves, jeans and khakis—some of the jeans with cut-off legs to make shorts, and some socks. The top shirt was light tan with two large flap pockets on the front and epaulettes on the shoulders—a 'bush shirt' he'd called it, like the ones the men wore on his favorite television show Daktari. It still smelled faintly of him after being packed away for nearly three years. It should fit my lover since it had short sleeves. I found a similarly colored pair of khakis and set those on the bed next to the shirt—they might be a little loose, but Mikey had his belt. The socks were iffy, but I hoped they'd fit since mine never would. From the shopping bag next to the door, I pulled out one of the packages of his new underwear, and was lucky to see another purple pair! I put Jerry's box back in the closet when I heard the water stop in the bath, and knew any moment Mikey would be back, squeaky clean.
He spotted me sitting on the bed as soon as he came in the room, then the pile of clothes next to me. I motioned for him to toss his dirty underwear on the floor with our other clothes, and walked the few short steps to stand in front of him, but he backed away, clutching the damp towel around his waist. "You, my dear boy—stink!" He leaned in just enough to brush his lips against mine. "When you get back from the shower, then you can put your filthy paws all over me." As an extra incentive, he raised one end of the large towel to dab absently at his damp hair. His grin told me he knew that this had exposed a glimpse of his muscled thigh, so it took me a minute to gather my senses.
"Those clothes were Jerry's—they should fit fairly well...I hope the socks will too, but his feet were only 12s, not _Bigfoot-_sized." I got a punch to the arm as I passed him, slinging my own towel over my shoulder as I headed down the hall. I made quick work of my morning ritual today since I had the promise of my elskede waiting. I ran a hand over my cheek as I stared in the mirror—wiping off a big circle of condensation to see my reflection. Nothing to shave—again, I sighed, rinsing the toothpaste from my mouth with a gargle of Listerine.
I opened the door to the shower stall and turned on the taps, getting the temperature just right before stepping under the rain-like spray of the large shower-head. It warmed quickly since Mikey had just used it, so I lathered with Irish Spring and wet my hair before grabbing my strawberry-scented shampoo. My fingertips worked the shampoo into my hair and I rubbed some of it under my arms and into my privates before stepping fully under the streaming water to rinse. I ran my hands over my chest and down to my dick to scrub away the last vestiges of my night's exertions, letting my fingers glide over my faintly tanned and now slippery skin. A soft moan escaped my lips, before I could stop it—old habits die hard, but Mikey's hands felt so much better! I turned my back to the spray and used the long-handled brush to get the parts I couldn't reach, including a little extra soap to my buttocks. The water was just starting to lose its heat when I shut it off and stepped out onto the mat, grabbing my towel and doing my little wiggle-dance to dry myself off. I cursed under my breath when I got to my lower legs: whatever spell Mikey had placed on me seemed to involve socks, because I'd forgotten to remove them before showering! I wrung them out and wadded my briefs into a ball with them before wrapping my towel around my waist.
I could hear some rattling of pans and low voices coming up the back stairs as I went to my room—far and mor chatting over the coffee I could smell as they planned their day and breakfast was started. That gave me about a half hour to ravish my boyfriend—not nearly enough time since I could just stare at him for that long. When I closed the door behind me and saw him sitting on the bed, still just in his towel, I knew that half-hour was going to be too short. I noticed his nipples were pink and erect, and he had a small smile on his lips as he stood up. He saw me toss my wet socks and underwear on the pile, and cocked an eyebrow at me. "It's all your fault," I muttered, "you put some sort of 'sock-curse' on me—all I can think about is you and not much else..."
Mikey was just inches away from me now, and I ached all over to reach out and pull him into my arms, and my fingers were twitching with the desire to pull his towel off—but he had to want this as much as I did, and I wouldn't do anything he wasn't ready for. To me, our next step should be for us to be completely naked and explore those parts we hadn't yet seen—our dicks. Sure, we'd felt them and rubbed them, but to actually see it was somehow a huge step. My eyes were on a level with his chin, and he lifted my face with one finger so he could see what I was feeling. I watched his face melt into a soft smile before he whispered, "I know what you're doing, Jay...waiting for me to give you permission—and you don't have to do that. I told you yesterday, 'I want what you want'. It's cool to go for what you want—we're learning this together."
Mikey planted a kiss on my lips and took a step back, lowering his hands to grip his towel, then waited until I did the same. We'd do this together, just as we'd decided to do everything. Our hands started to slowly open our towels and drop them to the floor.
"I reveal my Inmost Self..." He began, and I paraphrased "Unto my Elskede."
Our eyes shifted from looking into each other to slowly making their way lower; and I could feel my mouth going dry and my dick beginning to twitch knowing that the one I loved most was seeing me for the first time. I was fighting not to blush as I felt his gaze, but in the end, I just let it happen—it wasn't anything I could really control anyway. It pleased me to see Mikey also pinkening under my blue-eyed scrutiny. Within seconds we were both fully hard, his sticking nearly straight out and thicker than mine, and at least eight inches in length—Uncle _Mikkel is definitely getting a call—_I knew taking my lover inside me was going to be a greater challenge than I'd thought. In contrast, my dick was only 7¼ inches and thinner, with a slight upward curve. I was relieved to see that we were both circumcised—in Health class, they said it required extra care to keep clean otherwise, and that things could build up there.
I wanted to touch him badly, and a quick look into his eyes showed a twinkle and a smirk came to his lips—he was daring me to ask permission rather than just do it. _Fuck him—and the horse he rode in on—_I was not one to turn down a challenge! I dropped to my knees and reached my hand up to take his steely rod's thickness for the first time. I gasped at the heat, which it gave off, and the feel, soft and smooth on the outside, but underneath it was all unyielding stiffness. The head was both slightly darker and larger than the shaft, and I could see where the ridge separated the two...and the first tiny glisten of wetness at the opening in the very tip. My hand adjusted its grip on him and moved very slowly toward the head, then back to his pubes, the skin beneath moving so that I could feel every muscle, tendon and throbbing vein. Mikey sucked in his breath with a sharp hiss and I could feel his whole body tremble. I watched in fascination as the tiny spot at the tip turned into a full-fledged drop, growing in size until it would surely fall off onto the floor—like any good farmer, I knew seed had to be planted for it to do any good, so I stuck my tongue out and let it rest just under the tip of his cock, waiting to receive this new gift. It seemed like ages before the drop would fall, so I ran my tongue on the underside of the head, then up to encircle his crown—the taste wasn't much, but it was just as I remembered sampling after we'd cum last night—salty, faintly bitter and yet with a tang all its own. I moved farther in and my lips closed around his head as my tongue continued to caress him.
I felt his hands fall onto my shoulders, not merely to keep me in place or to steady himself as he shifted his stance for the best angle, but also to run his fingers through my hair for that extra touch of intimacy; I stopped trying to analyze things as I knelt there with his dick in my mouth, and just gave myself over to the feelings it brought into my head. My lips were moistening from the saliva I was now producing, and I slowly slid them further toward his base—trying to take it slow and licking him as I went to make it slicker. Half-way down I had to open my jaws wider, and that got me another inch or two—but I could feel the head nearing my throat and wasn't sure what to do next; there was a tickling sensation like you'd get before coughing, so I backed off a bit and tried a different angle before advancing again. I think I got another inch, but still meant two more to go, and no matter how I twisted my head or tried pulling his cheeks in closer, all I could do was feel the pressure on my throat and the gorge rising in my mouth. Finally, totally frustrated, I pulled off and took a deep breath, coughing as I did so. Mikey's hands moved under my arms and lifted me up so he could wrap me in a strong hug. His lips sought mine and I c0uld hear and feel his sigh as we duelled tongues for a minute.
"I'm glad you stopped, _elskede..._much more and I'd have needed another shower."
I shook my head as my arms went around his neck. "No, you wouldn't—I'd have swallowed every bit of it..." His eyes widened at the certainty and determination in my tone, and he brought one hand up to brush my drying hair back, before cupping it behind my head and pulling it onto his shoulder. Soft lips placed a kiss on top of my head. "I don't know what I did to deserve you..." Then his head slipped out of my embrace and he was working his way down my body, kissing at random spots on the way: my forehead, my nose, my chin...the hollow of my neck—before he reached my navel I was already harder than diamond and biting my lips to stifle my moans. His left hand feathered its way through the sparse blond hairs of my groin and gently laced themselves around me...as I had done moments earlier, he just stared at it while his hand moved back and forth, making every hair on my body stand on end and my toes tingle when he finally took me inside his mouth.
The heat was incredible—humid like a summer's day and moister than morning dew—and it only got better as his lips tightened and slipped lower. His tongue was stroking the underside and around the sides, sometimes flat, sometimes curved, and also pointy as it poked and massaged...then I felt a soft exhalation on me as he breathed out! He was ¾ of the way down and didn't seem to have the same trouble I did, which I put down to him having a wider jaw and my smaller dick. Even so, I could tell it was not easy by the time he was down to my last inch or so, and I put my hands on his head to pull him off when he did—something—and I watched in shock as the last inches of my cock disappeared into his mouth! I could feel contractions on the head of my dick and realized it was his throat muscles...
There was a knock on the door, the old 'shave and a haircut' bit, then dad's "Op med jer, sovetryner! Morgenmad!1" My eyes snapped open wider than saucers and I jumped, which was a mistake—Mikey's teeth scraped my dick as it jerked out of his mouth. I winced and swore under my breath as my supposed boyfriend collapsed onto the floor in silent laughter. I managed a hoarse "Bare fem minutter mere, far—vi ta'r tøj på nu!" I was rubbing myself—gently—to ease the pain, and Mikey got up off the floor and kissed me on the end of my nose.
"Come on, let's get dressed—I'll make it feel better after we eat, promise." I turned to the dresser to grab fresh socks and underwear, pulling out plain white tube socks, then opening the next drawer with my shorts and tees. "Huh?" I stared into the drawer and all I saw were bright colors—for the shirts it was nothing new—but all my jockey shorts were gone! Two arms wound their way under my arms and around my chest as Mikey laid his chin on my shoulder, pressing against me, enveloping me in his warmth and I relaxed into him. I could feel him where he wasn't quite soft yet between my cheeks. "Mmmm...what—" One hand reached into the drawer and drew out a golden yellow pair of his sexy shorts, then closed it before turning me to face him.
"These match your hair so perfectly—you will wear them for me, won't you—all of them, in time?" When I didn't say anything, he bent down and lifted my foot, slipping it through the hole in the shorts, then did the same with the right one. He knelt down to pull them up, letting his hands skim up my near-hairless legs; when he neared the end of this task, he kissed my swollen head and gave it a lick before tucking it into the front of the skimpy briefs. When he pulled up the back, he let his fingers graze my crack, and I felt one of them touch my opening there—then it was gone and he pushed me onto the bed. "Socks now, Accursèd One," he smiled as he looked into my closet. I was handed a collarless blue cotton shirt and a medium-blue pair of jeans.
"Guess I have to dress on my own, since you don't seem able to do it for yourself..." the regret in his voice was palpable." Shame too, it would have been so much fun." I shook my head to clear the fog and grabbed his purple briefs I'd laid out earlier, and took my turn at his feet. One foot in, then the other, I eased them upward, his few hairs brown and tickling my hands as they worked the purple cotton upwards. At the top of his thighs, I gently tucked his balls into the pouch, and leaned in to kiss his head as he'd done with mine. I tried repeating what else he'd done to me earlier, but though I got another inch down, I couldn't get the last two, and regretfully packed it away. My index finger rubbed between his cheeks and when he moaned his appreciation, I exerted just a little pressure—and it slipped in half an inch to the first joint. I was as shocked as he was when he gasped for air, and pulled it out quickly. "Sorry," I squeaked out past the lump of fear, which filled my throat—had I gone too far? I hadn't planned to do more than just insert the very tip...but there was less resistance than I expected! I groped for one of my wet socks to wipe my finger off.
"Shh, kæreste—I know you'd never hurt me. Now let's put our pants and shirts on, I'm getting kinda hungry." It took longer than the five minutes I'd told far, but with many caresses and occasional kisses we were dressed...the last step for each of us was zipping up and buckling each other's belts, but we each took one last feel as we did that. I looked at my colognes on the dresser top, and picked up the English Leather...it was what I usually picked, but Mikey took a sniff and shook his head. "Nope—I don't like the commercials—half the fun is undressing you!" I had to laugh since the tag line for it was 'My men wear English Leather—or nothing at all.' He sniffed each of the other three bottles and handed me the Jade East. "This one..." Okay, I had a new favorite cologne. He took the British Sterling and dabbed a bit behind each ear, then leaned his head in so I could catch a whiff, and I heard his own intake of breath behind my ear. As if planned beforehand, we kissed each other's ear before standing back to look in the mirror on the closet door.
I picked up my brush and ran it through my mostly-dry hair, lessening the waviness somewhat, but I knew it would come back when fully dry. I turned to Mikey and parted his hair in the middle, brushing it back and to the sides, and I saw that little bit in front he always complained about pop back down—so I moved the part to his left and combed it all to the right...now it made the longish bangs in the very middle of his forehead stand up. I was going to try the right side, but he chuckled and took the brush away from me to put the part back in the center. "It's as good as it gets—I'll always look a bit like Alfalfa unless I cut it in a buzz." I took the brush from him and when his back was turned to head out the door, I swatted him on the ass.
"You cut your hair, and we're done until it grows back!" He snatched the brush from me and would most likely have swatted me back, but I turned on my 'puppy dog pout' and he was finished, the fluttered eyelashes sealed the deal. He put an arm around my shoulders instead and led me down the back stairs to breakfast.
1. Up with you, sleepy-heads—breakfast!
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Original story with pictures can be found at GayAuthors.org/Jay & Miles
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