This story contains graphic but completely fictional depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage boys and a girl. If this offends you, if it is illegal for you to read or download this, or if you are under 18, please go away.
Seaward Plantation
Chapter eight
Two identical Buddhas sat cross-legged surveying the feast their disciples had set before them.
On second thought, maybe they were Buddhas and maybe they weren't. Buddha had surely been thirteen at one point in his life, and so were these two. Buddha was probably brown, as they were, although perhaps not this particular rich caramel color. Although all the statues show him as fat, Buddha must have been slim and muscular in his youth, as these two boys were. But Buddha might not have sat cross- legged on the edge of a feather-bed, facing his twin Buddha on the other edge of the mattress. And Buddha may not have sported the rigid erections that these two had, penises arching out at forty-five degree angles in front of their thin, muscled bellies. And Buddha's disciples surely never set this particular kind of feast before him: two naked, entwined, sleeping males, one white and one cream and coffee colored.
Pan and Bacchus had given of themselves to help their white master bed his new mulatto slave boy last night. Now it was their turn to claim the physical attentions of Mark Appleby and the sixteen year old boy Cassius who still held each other tightly in their sleep. The twins looked at each other, breaking into large, identical grins, and began to help themselves to the banquet.
Pan, who was sitting by his master, began to lightly trace the contours of the white man's muscular chest, gently thumbing his rose colored nipples, twirling the small patch of hair in the center of his chest, following the trail of light brown hairs to the navel. Leaning over, he kissed his master's belly button, tonguing it gently, then followed the thin line of hair again down into the soft pubic bush. This he nuzzled with mouth and nose, breathing in the man smell. By this time, Mark Appleby had come fully but quietly awake and was watching the proceedings. He reached out a hand to grasp the caramel brown boy's thigh, caressing and sliding the hand across the flawless skin. Appleby's penis was by now fully erect, a development acknowledged by Pan's slipping a brown hand around the purple-pink shaft and slowly sliding it up and down, gradually tightening his grip. Clear precum glistened at the tip as the head grew out of the hood, revealing the light pink glans.
Bacchus, sitting by the new slave boy, sixteen year old Cassius, had not been idle. Lightly pressing his own full, trumpet shaped lips over the equally full, heart shaped mouth of the mulatto, he kissed him gently. The light pressure of his tongue awakened Cassius gradually, who smiled, which admitted Bacchus's tongue into his mouth. Cassius sucked the boy's tongue, and with one hand reached behind the boy and cupped a firm buttock, running his fingers along the line of the ass crack, gently scratching, with special attention to scratching around Bacchus's wrinkled brown asshole. Bacchus responded by reaching one arm down to grasp Cassius's erect, medium brown penis, pumping it, while with the other he rubbed the light brown, boxy chest of the boy.
Breathing increased, soft moans and cries of delight built in volume and frequency. Boy shifted positions on boy, boy on man, the sliding of skin on skin--tanned white, coffee and cream, caramel brown--now lubricated by the sweat that stood out on every surface and the precum that leaked from every penis. Rising up on one elbow to survey the scene of twisting, grappling bodies, Appleby decided to take his new slave to one more level in what was for the boy the new delights of male love. Appleby would delay one more time penetrating the boy, building up his desire to do so until it would be the sweetest pleasure. But this time, this morning, he would show Cassius the delights of penetrating another.
Appleby slipped off the bed at the foot, his bedmates looking at him with curiosity even as they slowly pumped and squeezed each other's stiff cocks. Kneeling on the bed near the foot, the white man motioned for Cassius to join him. Kneeling side by side, thigh by thigh, Appleby put one arm around the light brown boy's shoulder and pulled him close, tasting his full, moist lips. With the other he fondled the head of the boy's penis, sliding his fingers under the sensitive cap, which made the slave moan with pleasure. Then reaching into the pot of petroleum jelly he had with him, Appleby gathered up gobs of the stuff which he spread on the slave boy's dick, coating the head and the shaft just behind it extra well. Catching the idea, Cassius reached into the pot and did the same for his master, running his light brown fingers, slick with lubricant, around the white man's pink cockhead, also making the deep purple, pulsing shaft greasy.
By this time, Pan and Bacchus knew what was going to happen, and they were eagerly willing. It took only a gesture or two from their master and the two boys got on their hands and knees, tightly side by side, globes of caramel brown butts presented to the white man and older mulatto boy. Appleby demonstrated to Cassius, who watched intently, what to do. Sliding the head of his cock in the dark brown ass crack, greasing especially the wrinkled hole with the precum and lubricant that now coated his dick, the white man then pressed the dick head up to Pan's brown asshole. He pushed, causing a gasp from the boy on the bed in front of him, who put his head down and clutched the sheets with his fists. The head of the white man's penis popped into the ring, which held it tightly for a moment. Then it relaxed, allowing Appleby to plunge the full length of his penis slowly but steadily into the boy. Pan cried out, "O! Master! Oh, that feels so...ah!...so good!" and then the white man was all the way in. He smiled at Cassius and nodded toward Bacchus's waiting ass.
Cassius was learning everything anew, experiencing a kind of intimacy he had pictured in imagination but not explored before coming to Seaward. Eager to taste each new delight, he copied his master's example, but inexpertly. Placing his own light brown cockhead against the asshole of Bacchus, he pushed in. Slick with grease and precum, it went in, but too quickly. Bacchus cried out in protest. Appleby put a hand on Cassius's shoulder to signal a need to wait. Once Bacchus gasped, "Alright!', Appleby removed his hand and, grasping the hips of the boy in front of him, began to pull in and out in a slow rhythm.
Cassius followed his example. The twin boys, the pain of insertion past, began to breathe as heavily as their master and Cassius. Bracing with their elbows and hands against the sheets, they pushed their rears back into the pumping groins of the man and boy behind them. Each boy hung his head and looked past his own dangling, full penis and tight, heavy ballsack to see the genitals of the one behind them, tanned white or light brown thighs pushed up tight against their own. The twins were panting, drool coming out of their mouths and onto the sheets.
Appleby, side by side with Cassius, kept one hand on Pan's hip and put his other hand on Cassius's far shoulder, drawing him in. Appleby turned his head and his mouth found the full, heart shaped lips of Cassius. His hand on the shoulder slipped down to the boy's buttocks and grasped each hard muscle as it clenched and unclenched in rhythm, then he moved his hand into the tight valley between each buttock. Cassius kept both hands on the hips of the boy in front of him. The pace of pumping became furious. Inarticulate sounds, half-formed words, and groans came from Appleby and Cassius, each called loudly the name of the boy in front of him, each boy moaned in pleasure and called back the name of the man or boy who was fucking him. At the same time, white man and mulatto slave boy came, bucking and pushing their rigid cocks into the boys as far as they would go. Again and again their hard butt muscles squeezed out a flood of semen into the willing boy in front of them.
It was over, and Appleby and Cassius remained on their knees, panting. Impatient, the twin boys pulled off of the wilting dicks that impaled them and turning around, rose to their feet on the bed. Each boy's long dickhead was now pushed out beyond the medium dark foreskin, dripping with precum. The twins walked up close to Appleby and Cassius, putting their hands on the shoulders of the ones who had just fucked them. Appleby leaned forward, putting his hands around Pan's buttocks and pulled him closer, taking his rigid dick into his mouth. Seeing what to do, Cassius did the same for Bacchus.
Stimulated by their recent fuck, both the caramel brown twins pumped their penises in and out of the waiting, wet mouths for only a few minutes. They, too, came at the same time. Pan's fingers, embedded in his master's long, light brown wavy hair, pulled the white man's head toward him as he bucked forward, pumping his semen out. Bacchus's hands, which were on Cassius's shoulders, clenched spastically as he lost control, quivering and shaking as he pushed forward again and again to squeeze the white juice into Cassius's mouth.
As each boy finished, he collapsed to his knees in front of the larger male in front of him and each couple embraced tightly, running hands over backs now slick with sweat. Passion gave way to the delight of being held, and boys and man, they explored their partner with tenderness. Ears, necks, nipples were brushed with lips, licked, gently bitten. Eventually, Appleby sat back, smiling at the beautiful brown boy he had been holding, and said, "Let's start the day! we must show Seaward to Cassius and Portia." Although reluctant to let go of the moment, the brown boys agreed. Returning to the bath room, they all washed in a happy party of splashing, scrubbing and toweling each other, and admiring naked wet bodies whether white, light brown, or caramel brown.
As Appleby and the boys were finishing breakfast, they heard steps on the verandah. Going out to investigate they found Hector and Helen. "We are taking the new boy and girl all over the island!" said Helen, smiling shyly at her master out of her dark brown face. Hector came up to Appleby and gave him a quick hug, but his arm lingered on the man's shoulder for a bit while they talked. "We are here to get Cassius, then we are meeting Portia for a tour," he said, smiling at the new sixteen year old. "We can have a picnic, too!" he said, indicating a cloth bag he had slung over his shoulder. Cassius eagerly prepared for a day of walking and touring, and soon the three of them set out down the path to the cabins, where they would collect Portia from Mama Juno's cabin.
Everyone settled into their tasks for the day. The twins busied themselves around the house, cleaning inside and on the verandah, making the flowerbeds and lawns presentable. Appleby worked steadily for a while with his correspondence, preparing letters to go out to the mail boat with Troy. He found Troy with Priam, repairing some equipment in a shed. The men greeted him warmly, Priam shaking Appleby's hand with both of his large, strong, dark hands, Troy hugging him and keeping one hand on Appleby's lower back while they talked. Appleby took a real interest in the work the men were doing, and asked to be taught how certain pieces of farm machinery worked. He labored with the men for a couple of hours, honest clean sweat breaking out on their skins as they went about their chores. Mama Cass brought food and water to them in the storage barn for their lunch, which they gratefully accepted. Another couple of hours of work in the gardens followed, with Appleby learning about the care of the crops and vegetables grown on the island. The sun beat down and the three men removed their shirts, sweat glistening on the tanned white and dark chocolate skins. Priam's fifty year old body did not betray its age beyond his white hair, a lifetime of work showing in the sculpted muscles, the thick lobes of his chest, the steel sinews of his hands and neck, while Troy's graceful, strong body brought many a secret swelling of the groin to Appleby, remembering their many times of shared passion. Troy, too, cast long looks at his master, and did Appleby imagine the occasional furtive inspection of his body by Priam?
The men completed their work and put away tools for a break, Appleby being grateful for the rest for his sore muscles. Priam went to his cabin to nap, Troy prepared the Hesperus to sail out and intercept the mail boat, and Appleby decided to walk the paths of Seaward to find some shady spot to rest in the afternoon. He soon came upon a small lawn of soft, plush grass growing beneath a huge, outspreading live oak, one of the largest, lushest specimens Appleby had ever seen, fed by the rich soil of the island and a nearby spring. Appleby refreshed himself at the spring and was about to lie down in the grass when an inspiration from out of his boyhood overcame him: he would climb the tree. The low- branching habit of the live oak made it easy for him to climb, and finding one upward slanting branch after another he was soon thirty yards up, catching a fresh, cool breeze from off the sea. Appleby nestled himself into the crook of a major branch, surrounded by green leaves, and leaning back fell fast asleep.
He awoke gradually, which was lucky so that he did not start and fall from the limb on which he sat. He was aware of voices, but they were too soft and too distant to make out the words. However, they seemed to be nearly beneath him, and coming closer. Shifting his position, he found an opening in the envelope of green leaves that surrounded him so he could see down to the lawn beneath. Cassius and Helen were approaching down there, just the two of them, talking softly. The eleven year old girl had the sixteen year old boy's light brown hand in her dark brown hand, swinging it playfully. But where were Hector and Portia, and why had the tour quartet not stayed together as they explored the island?
The two stopped on the plush lawn beneath the tree. Appleby could see them, being nearly directly above, but could not make out any words in their muffled voices. Cassius sat down on the lawn, cross-legged. Helen sat next to him, the two talking but Helen talking more, the girl touching the boy on the arm and shoulder from time to time. Cassius often turned his head quickly to look directly at the girl, then turned back away to look down at the grass or out in the direction of the sea. Then Helen shifted position, moving directly behind Cassius's back, on her knees. Her hands kneaded his shoulders as she bounced lightly against his back. Cassius's body did not exactly tense, but it seemed to take on a waiting attitude, and he looked straight ahead of him. There was a soft exchange of words, and Cassius nodded his head uncertainly. Helen moved her hands to the boy's boxy chest, rubbing it, massaging his nipples through the rough fabric.
Could it be that she was seducing him, as she had her white master a few days before? Appleby's groin began to swell at the memory. He shifted positions very, very quietly so as to keep the two in full view through the peephole in the leaves. A strong desire grew in him, and it had several objects: to see Cassius naked, to see Helen naked, to see two others having sex when they could not see him, to rejoice in Cassius's continuing awakening to a full range of sexual enjoyment.
Down below, Helen gently pulled Cassius's shirt up and off of him, the boy willingly raising his arms to assist the process. She resumed moving her dark brown hands over his light brown skin in earnest now, running her hands also through his tangle of thick, dark, loose black curls. She cupped his strong, boxy chest muscles, tweaked his purple brown nipples, and ran her hands down his abdomen as far as she could reach. One of the boy's legs was bouncing rhythmically with nervousness. Then the girl stood up and in one long pull wriggled out of her simple one piece tunic, letting it fall on the ground. She wore no underwear. Looking down from above, Appleby remembered her orange shaped breasts sitting firm and high on her muscular chest, deep chocolate dark skin over her boyish body. He could see the gentle round swell of her strong but not well defined abdomen below her breasts, and he could see the twisted tufts of her hair shake as she moved her head. He could see the girlish version of Troy's and Priam's high, tight buttocks, pushing up and out provocatively.
The girl moved around to stand in front of Cassius. The boy's leg stopped bouncing and his head seemed to reflect that he was staring at her in awe. She reached down and tugged off the boy's shoes, then grasped the waist of his trousers and, as the boy willingly lifted his hips a little, slid both trousers and undergarment off in one motion. Cassius leaned back on the grass; since they were just beneath the tree, the ground sloped gently up towards the base of the trunk. This was fortunate, for it meant that Cassius would not be looking straight up to catch any possible glimpse of his master through the leafy peephole.
As the boy lay back, the dark girl knelt beneath his legs, parting them gently. She put her head way down and took first one testicle and then another into her mouth, sucking them gently. Appleby could hear a distant moan from the boy, could see the rapid rise and fall of his belly muscles, now glistening with a little perspiration. Helen's mouth worked up the shaft of the boy's medium dark penis, now rigidly erect, sucking and licking as she went. Eventually her full, plum-like lips slipped over the light brown-purple head that had grown out from the hood of skin, and she bobbed her head up and down on the pole for a while, her hands clutching both of the light brown boy's muscular thighs. Cassius's head lolled from side to side, and more distant sounds of moaning, plus the occasional inarticulate word, came to Appleby's ears.
Releasing the boy's penis with a plop, Helen moved forward, her thighs and knees now straddling the boy's muscular abdomen. Reaching behind, she positioned his penis, now slick with spit and precum, at the entrance to her vagina. She lowered herself down a little, perhaps just enough to admit the head into the entrance to her womb. She gave a little cry and stopped, and Appleby could see that she was breathing heavily. After a moment, she began to move her hips up and down just a little, then just a little more, picking up a little speed as she went. Cassius's hands went out to her and hers out to him. Palms to palms, they locked light brown and dark brown fingers together. Faster and faster Helen bounced on the boy's rigid rod, but never took it in all the way. Half-heard words and moans began to increase, the light breathless voice of the girl intertwined with the throaty, hoarse moans and cries of the sixteen year old boy.
Suddenly, Cassius's torso curled, his head and chest coming up off of the lawn and his powerful leg and butt muscles pushing his groin upward. He nearly screamed, a sound Appleby could hear very well even from his high perch. The unexpected penetration high into her womb caused the girl to cry out as well, but her passion overtook her pain and she continued to bounce quickly up and down, then changed to a slower rhythm, perhaps remembering techniques from the experience of masturbating her white master a few days before. Helen's own body suddenly shook and, releasing Cassius's hands, she slumped forward, putting her hands on the boy's chest. The pumping slowed and then stopped. Pulling herself off of the boy's penis, she slumped forward onto his chest, her legs still spread-eagled on both sides of his abdomen. Appleby could see the boy's penis, still erect but wilting, leaking semen down one side as it slowly flagged and settled back down onto his thigh. It was hard to tell from that distance, but he was sure he could see the gleam of the sixteen year old's semen running out of the vagina of the chocolate dark eleven year old girl.
How long they lay there, Appleby did not know. His own trousers were stained with his leakings, but he dared not relieve himself with his hand and betray his hiding place. Slowly, the girl eventually stood up, then so did the boy in front of her. They embraced tenderly, Cassius holding her head of tufted twists close to his chest, she with her arms around his back. Breaking apart reluctantly, each dressed, and then hand in hand walked back down the path that led away from the tree. Appleby waited until he was sure they were gone, then clambered back down the tree. He knelt and ran his hand over the mashed-down grass, thinking that it still felt warm from the bodies of the sixteen and eleven year olds. He was sure he felt some slick fluids on the grass, even as they were soaking into the rich earth of Seaward. As he rose to walk down the same path, toward the big house, he slid his fingers together, slippery with the leavings he had found on the grass, his thoughts occupied with many things.
Entering the path that would take him to his house, Appleby found Troy, who was looking for him. "Master, when I stopped the mail boat to give them your letters...." his face broke into a huge grin, sparkling white teeth in his dark handsome face, "they passed on three big crates to me, Master! They had to lower them onto the Hesperus with a crane... I was afraid she might founder. Come see!" He led the way down an intersecting path to the storage barn. Appleby hugged himself with glee, anticipating the first fruits of the telegrams and letters he had sent North. Priam was there in the barn, just unhitching the donkey cart with which he and Troy had hauled the crates from the pier. Cass and Juno tried to peer inside through the slats. Appleby noted with interest that Hector and Portia were also there, and he tried to read in their easy, friendly way with each other whether anything had passed between them similar to what he had observed between Cassius and Helen.
Appleby seized a crowbar and, flourishing it in the air, said, "People of Seaward! Behold, I bring you gold, silver, and rubies!" Expressions of amazement and questions broke out; it was clear nobody took him literally, but now their curiosity was really piqued. Going up to the first crate, Appleby began prying the top off, being careful to preserve the wood for future use. Off it came, and he reached inside and pulled out brown rubies: shoes! Factory-made shoes from the North, in a wide range of sizes and styles. Nothing extra fancy, but sturdy shoes for country use. Accustomed to old, rough shoes out at the heel and toe in many cases, the people simply stared, then gasped in awe and dove into the crate themselves. The twins came running into the barn to see what the commotion was about and, like everyone else, began removing the contents carefully, reverently, to find some pairs their sizes.
There were at least a couple of pairs for everyone, plus sizes "in between" that the smaller ones would grow into. When Appleby moved to the second crate everyone gathered around in real anticipation. Off came the wooden top, in went brown hands and arms, and out came good quality manufactured clothing, again from the mills and factories of the North. Used to homemade and hand-me-downs, the people regarded the strong, simple dresses, pants, shirts, broad straw hats, and overalls as if they were ermine robes. Heavy wool jackets and slick oiled waterproofs promised protection against the weather. A party spirit filled the barn as the people judiciously and fairly divided up the spoils, which were once again in a range of sizes. Athena, Cassius and Helen joined the party, drawn by the happy shouts, and partook of the riches as well. Appleby kept eyeing the latter two to see if their behavior would betray any hint of their afternoon passion.
Hearts raced as Appleby broke open the third crate. Out came big tubs of paint and brushes, curtains, good and simple china dishes, strong study glassware, mirrors, flatware, enameled steel teakettles and black cast iron cooking pots and pans. "Master," said Juno, hesitantly, "do these go in the big house?" "No," replied Appleby "they are for the cabins. Help yourselves." Wonder warred with greed in the eyes of the women and girls, but good manners won out and the spoils were fairly divided. The cabins, although sturdily built, were plain, and visions of domestic luxury danced in every female mind. The men good naturedly helped sort the goods. There was praise and thanks for Appleby all around, and then each party dispersed to take its loot back to the cabins.
Appleby arrived back at the house just as dinner was being brought to the dining room. Tonight he would eat with the twins and with Cassius around the big table in that room. Portraits of long-dead Huddles and a solitary Appleby brought by Aunt Lucy from the North looked down in amazement at the white man in easy company with his dark and light brown boys. Cassius seemed light-hearted but thoughtful, while the twins were heir usual bouncy selves. During one lull in the conversation (because the twins each had full, overstuffed mouths and were chewing), Cassius put his hand on his master's forearm and, squeezing it gently, simply said, "Thank you, Master Mark. Thanks for everything." Appleby smiled in return.
Other families and groupings ate in their own cabins around the plantation. Just as he was finished and moving out onto the verandah with the boys to enjoy the evening breeze, Appleby was surprised to see all the other people of Seaward walking toward the house from the path that led to their cabins. They were animated, chatting and laughing. Several carried lanterns.
Priam took the lead, stepping out of the group and addressing Appleby and the boys. "We are naming the baby tonight," he said. "It is a custom we have; the correct number of days has passed, the night is clear and starry, all the signs are good. Will you join us, Master Mark?" Hector, Troy, and Athena smiled invitingly, all three passing the gurgling infant among them. Appleby gladly agreed to join them, and finding a lantern in the pantry and a coat against the evening chill, he and the boys set out with them.
On paths through the fields and woods of Seaward they walked in the gathering twilight, making their way toward higher ground. Appleby walked with Mama Cass and Mama Juno and asked about their work, what supplies were needed, how they would decorate their cabins. With Priam he discussed which crops were good and which might fail on the island. With real joy, he admired the baby girl that was passed among Athena, Hector, and Troy, making extravagant predictions that she would be a queen, would fly to the moon, would command the seas, would rule the world. The twins ran ahead, now behind, in and out of all the groups, laughing and sharing high spirits. Appleby noted that Cassius and Portia tended to lag somewhat behind the group, with Helen between them, the two girls finding common ground in their domestic interests, while Cassius had his own different reasons to want to be with each one.
The happy party finally arrived at the hilltop cemetery, the highest point of Seaward. There amid black and white ancestors they lit a bonfire that had been laid, and everyone gathered around it. Voices became quiet in the night, and even the rambunctious twins seemed to know that a special moment had arrived. Calling for the baby and holding her in his arms, Priam repeated words in an African language long forgotten to most of them, incantations for health, strength, peace, and long life. He held the child up to the stars, then brought her back down and stood on the other side of the fire from the gathering.
"What name have you given to this one?" he asked the three parents. Athena stood up. In a soft but clear voice, she said, "Papa Priam, we decided it would not be fitting to name a baby girl 'Mark.' So we name her... Apple." A soft chorus of approval passed around the group, and every one of them looked at Mark Appleby.
He was smitten to the heart, tears starting to his eyes and running down his cheeks. He could not speak, but could only nod his approval and acceptance, then covered his face for a moment with his hand. In one more way, he was becoming one with the people of Seaward. Completing the ceremony, Hector and Troy, holding on to a bottle of wine together, poured a cup's worth of it onto the fire. "Libation!" they cried--or its equivalent in an African tongue, if they knew it, and the people responded in kind. Silence descended on the gathering again, and then in groups of two or three they quietly stole off into the night.
Lost in thought, staring into the fire, Appleby eventually noticed that only he and Priam were left, on nearly opposite sides of the dwindling embers. "Thank you, Priam, for this blessing here tonight," said Appleby. "You are welcome, master," returned the strong black man, blacker than usual in the night, his skin shining in the firelight.
"Are there other ceremonies from Africa that you remember and perform--other blessings or rites of passage or the marking of special occasions?" he asked.
"Oh yes, Master Mark, for weddings, burials, all manner of things. Some are best left forgotten," he said, shaking his head, "like initiation ceremonies for girls that involve....cutting. Those are best forgotten." He stared out to sea, the fire lighting the strong, mature profile of his face.
Appleby nodded his complete agreement. Genuinely interested, he pressed the fifty year old: "Were there initiation ceremonies, rights of passage, for boys also?"
"Oh yes, those, too. When a boy was about thirteen, you know." Priam continued staring out to sea.
"Did the young men here at Seaward, the boys, did they go through those ceremonies?"
"Oh, not exactly the same, some things you leave behind. New ceremonies come to be, new ways to mark passages. I'm the only one who remembers those old ones," said Priam, shaking his head sadly, turning a gentle gaze on his master.
"So you must have gone through those rites of passage yourself in Africa before.... before you were stolen," said Appleby.
"Not all of them, master, I was taken when I was ten years old. I missed one or two of them. I wish that I had gone through with them. I have always felt something.... something missing," he said, looking at his master and then dropping his gaze to the fire.
"But Priam," said Appleby, real concern in his voice and face, "is it too late? Can we not have such an initiation for you now? What sorts of things did they do, that you wish you had done?"
Now Priam shook his head more vigorously, and looked out to sea again. "No, Master Mark, you don't want to know," he said, casting a quick glance at Appleby, then back out to sea.
His interest piqued, Appleby pursued the matter. "No, Priam, please tell me. What would you have done that would have made you feel more complete, if you had not been taken?" Priam picked up a stick of wood and stirred the embers, looking intently into them. Silence passed for a moment. "Tell me," urged Appleby, softly.
Sensing real caring and interest, Priam glanced at Appleby, then back at the fire, then back at the white man. Seeming to make a decision, he began slowly. "Well, you see, Master Mark," and he cleared his throat before continuing, "you see..... among my people, it was thought that for a boy to become a man, he had to take.... to take something of manhood into him." He hung his head, stirred the embers, looked again at his master. "We had many rites of passage such as hunting, staying alone in the wilderness for a period, which I did, successfully--but taking something of manhood.... that I did not do."
"What... what thing of manhood would you take?" asked Appleby.
Priam laughed quickly, even roughly. "Do you really want to know, master?" Appleby said "Yes" again, gently pressing the unwilling black man. "Well.... a boy of thirteen or so would.... would take a man's seed into him. It would in turn make him a man." Smiling, he shook his head, stirring the embers vigorously now with the stick. "I don't know, master, probably just a superstition."
"So.... so you never did this thing as a boy?" asked Appleby.
"Master, the idea was to do it with an elder of the tribe, someone a boy respected and admired. I.... I was made to do it on the way to this place, master," said Priam, avoiding eye contact, "but it was not with men I admired and not with men of my tribe." Suddenly a look of sadness came over Priam, strong mature man that he was. He grew silent, the vigorous poking of the fire the only indication of the strong emotions stirred within him by his memories of that ceremony and his loss at having missed it in any real sense. Appleby saw the shadow of a small boy that used to be, inside of Priam. Appleby suddenly felt a sense of kinship with Priam, the two oldest men on the island even if a quarter century separated them. He thought of something Troy had once said to him, and of all that Priam did for the island and for him. Not fully thinking his way through, Appleby plunged ahead.
"Priam.... is it too late? Can you do this thing at your age, and be more complete?" The black man stopped stirring abruptly and looked across the fire at the white man but did not speak. "Troy.... Troy once said to me that at Seaward, each one gives to others what they need. You have given me much, Priam." Appleby rose, Priam's eyes locked upon him. "Can I give you something in return? I admire you.... perhaps you admire me? and in a real sense, Priam, we are members of the same tribe." Appleby took the few steps to come around the fire and stand near Priam. The strong black man rose, standing a little higher than Appleby, his deep black eyes searching his master's face for understanding, some deep process of thought and decision working in the craggy muscles of his face. Appleby reached out one hand and cupped it around Priam's neck. The black man took breath in sharply and dropped the stick from his hand. "What can I give you.... my friend?"
Priam gasped again, and put his own thick, strong, muscled and calloused hand to cover the white hand that caressed his neck. Looking directly into the white man's eyes, he breathed, "O! Master Mark." Then the two embraced each other, roughly as strong men might, one of them at least unused to embracing men. In that moment Appleby felt an iron-hard lump in the groin of the older man who held him, trembling. He knew what he must do. Stepping back a pace, Appleby began to undress, despite the evening chill. He kept his eyes on Priam's face the whole time, smiling an acceptance and invitation. Priam's face alternated quickly among smiles and wonder and consternation--then, making a quick decision, he began removing his clothing as well.
Soon the two men stood naked in front of the dying fire, one body a dusky tan in the fading light, the other body a coal black that reflected the firelight. One body was smoothly muscled, the other bound and corded by iron hard, thick muscles, the kind that can only be built up from a lifetime of hard work. Only his craggy face and the grey of the hair on his head and above his penis betrayed any sign of age in Priam. He could have crushed the white man, strong though Appleby was, but he did not.... he stepped forward, and the two men, standing, embraced tightly. Appleby recognized the release that he himself had felt upon first coming to Seaward, the first night of passion he had spent with the twins. Priam, even at his age, was coming to his own rite of passage. If raped or molested as a boy, this would be a willing participation, a passionate meeting of equals. A fleeting thought of the ten year old boy he had met.... he had not been kind to... at McGillicuddy's flashed through Appleby's head, and he thanked the universe for how it continued to give him ways to make amends for past wrongs. Strong arms clutched muscular bodies, still standing, hands exploring, scratching, pulling at hard muscle. Priam's penis, larger even than Troy's, was rock hard and pressed against Appleby's own straining erection.
Priam knew where he was physically, but spiritually he was thirteen again, in a lost African village, with an elder of his tribe whom he knew... and loved. Repeating words he had nearly forgotten in his mother tongue, he began to slide downward to his knees, kissing Appleby's muscular chest, tonguing his nipples, tracing the line through his navel to his pubic hair. Appleby gently helped the strong man's journey downward, until the man's cap of tight, kinky white hair was waist high. The white man ran his fingers through the black man's hair as he simply held and caressed the head. Intoning African words, Priam plunged Appleby's rigid penis into his mouth. He began sucking and pumping, greedily working the hard cock, yearning for the essence of manhood that would, in his mind, make him complete.
Appleby slowly rocked his hips back and forth to assist the process. When he came it was like an offering, an outpouring of love, a gift. "Priam!" he cried, and gently pushed into the black man's face, holding the crinkly, woolly head as his seed flowed out. Priam swallowed greedily. When there was no more, Priam let the wilting organ slide from his mouth and embraced his master's thighs. "Oh Master Mark, thank you, oh thank you," he said over and over.
Appleby helped the man to his feet, thin trickles of tears running down the planes of the hard muscled black face. They embraced in genuine affection. And then Appleby gently turned Priam around so he stood behind him, both facing the fire, and pressed into the black man. His swollen but relaxing penis nestled along the divide between Priam's muscular buttocks. With one hand Appleby reached around the man and gently caressed the massive lobes of his chest, his muscled belly. With the other hand, Appleby began to pump the rock hard, ponderous cock of the black man. Head to one side, Priam hummed softly, breaking into more African words under his breath from time to time, swinging his hips into a soft, steady motion. The two men swayed together in time to Priam's inner song. When he came it was also gentle if copious. Priam reached back behind him suddenly to pull his master into his backside, then pushed his hips forward and cried out an unknown African word. Great ropes of semen shot out, splashed and sprayed over the dying embers, which hissed and spat as the white liquid landed in it.
Appleby released the black man's penis and hugged him tight from behind, with real affection. Priam covered the white hands and arms with his own and leaned his head back to smile at his master. "Libation!" said Appleby. Priam chuckled deep in his chest and nodded agreement, looking at the sizzling embers. "Libation!" he agreed. And the two elders of the tribe stood in that friendly embrace as the embers died, watching the bright stars in the black night.