Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. If you have any feedback or encouragement, feel free to drop me a line at niftyguy_30307@yahoo.com. I appreciate the emails! (That's how we authors know guys are reading.)
Singing at the top of my lungs, driving just a hair too fast on the ribbon of mountain road, squinting through my shades at a countryside that was awash in reds, browns, and greens, and nothing overhead but blue skies forever, I was happy and eager and excited and more than ready to arrive at my destination. I may have been a grown man of thirty-eight, but I eagerly gave myself over to the thrill of youthful anticipation.
What is more exciting than a secret rendezvous?
A secret rendezvous that is arranged by someone who slips a note and a crudely drawn map into your hand as you're leaving him, leaving him at a time and place where you can't talk, you can't say the things you're thinking and hoping and feeling. And the note tells you to follow the tangled skein of back roads up and over the rolling hills and into the mountains, driving until you reach a remote cabin that promises to be out of sight, hidden from any prying eyes. A remote cabin where your path and his will cross and touch and wrap around each other, even if only for an hour or a day.
The note, of course, was from Beau; he had slipped it into my hand just as I was leaving his grandfather's house, where we had all just spent a most peculiar evening. I suppose that I hadn't really known what to expect. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the graceful mansion, I felt like I had just emerged from a time machine. Meticulously manicured lawns, towering magnolias, a wrought iron fence, and tall shuttered windows all seemed to be emblems of an earlier, more genteel time. Forrest Hamilton, courtly manners and all, also seemed to be a relic of a bygone era.
And he was on his best, most honey coated, behavior after I was ushered through the massive front door. As soon as I had a drink in my hand (in other words, immediately), he guided me through the different downstairs rooms, giving me the tour of family portraits and historical treasures that documented the Hamilton family's reign over Dumont and its environs. He didn't really turn up the charm, though, until we were sitting in the parlor, waiting for dinner to be announced.
"It must all seem very provincial here, to you," he drawled, focusing his gaze on me.
"Why do you say that?"
"My goodness, Mr. MacNeil, you are living the life that many would dream of living. A published author, and, by the way, your book is very good, living in New York City, which is truly a city among cities. Why ever would Dumont hold any appeal? How could this little town possibly compete for your affections?"
I smiled. "Mr. Hamilton, I think you're selling your hometown short. Every place has something to offer. Even Dumont. You're right that it's not New York, but it is real and authentic in its own way, a way that I could never experience up North. And I'm sure that you know that this town is a part of my heritage , a part I've probably neglected for too long."
"Of course I would never try to minimize your family ties to the area. My only point was that I would be surprised if there is enough here," he paused, "at least enough that's available to you, to keep you entertained for long."
Before I could reply, the heavy parlor doors swung open and Claude, the ancient houseman, announced that dinner was served. My elderly host and I were just sitting down at the enormous mahogany table, laden with crisp linens and gleaming china and silver, when we heard the front door burst open and, seconds later, Beau bounded into the dining room.
"Beau, how nice of you to join us," Forrest Hamilton said, slightly sarcastically. "Mr. MacNeil, do you remember my grandson Beau?"
"I believe so," I replied, extending my hand. "You were with your grandfather when he came to my uncle's house, weren't you?"
"Yes, I drove him over." Beau took my hand and squeezed it extra tight. "I'm sorry I'm a little late, Granddad."
"Well, punctuality has never been your strong suit. But we just sat down, so there's no harm done. This time."
Dinner unfolded like a slowly blooming rose, building in richness and intensity until I thought that I was going to burst. Although the food was delicious, I probably didn't savor it with the concentration that it deserved. Instead, I was more than a little distracted by my carnal appetites, which Beau, who was sitting across the table from me, was doing his best to stoke. At first it was just the way he looked at me, and the way he put his fork in his mouth, but about midway through the meal I was startled to find his bare foot taking up residence in my crotch, under the cover of the snowy white tablecloth. As I did my best to keep up my end of the conversation, his toes played my cock like a musical instrument, stroking out an extremely interesting melody as they crawled up and down its growing length. I probably should have attempted to discourage him, but instead I found myself slumping down a little in my chair, moving an inch or so closer to his roaming foot. He interpreted this as an open invitation, and, before I realized what was happening, he used his probing toes to pop open a couple of buttons on the fly of my zipperless trousers. By the time I said "Yes, please," to the offer of coffee with dessert, he had worked his big toe inside my trousers, through the fly of my boxers, and into direct contact with my leaking cock.
It would be a lie to say that I wasn't enjoying the excitement of our clandestine activity under the table, but I eventually decided that at least one of us was going to have to behave like a grown-up. A large cum stain on my pants was the last thing I needed when I stood up at the end of dinner. Pretending to reach for my napkin, I quickly extricated Beau's foot from its station and shot him a mildly disapproving look. While eating my strawberries shortcake with one hand, I did my best to tuck everything back into place with the other. And not a moment too soon. The instant we finished our dessert, Forrest Hamilton told Beau that it was time for him to excuse himself so that the grownups could retire to the study and talk privately.
A few minutes later we were settled into the big leather chairs that flanked the fireplace, and my host turned to me with a smile. "Now it's time to talk a little business. I've been thinking over the last several days, about your situation, and I have a proposal to make to you."
"Why am I not entirely surprised?" I remarked dryly.
"I wouldn't expect you to be. As you must know by now, your uncle, may he rest in peace, had several fine pieces of property in this town and the surrounding countryside, including the main house that you are currently using. As I indicated the other day, I am prepared to offer you a more than fair price for the entirety of the real estate and its contents. Now, you may ask why I would need another large house," he gestured around the room, "and indeed I don't. But you should understand that my goal is one of preservation, not one of use. What I propose to do is to create a foundation that would maintain and preserve your uncle's home as an example of the way life used to be."
I furrowed my brow. "Do you mean turn it into a museum?"
"Exactly. The ancillary properties could be sold to endow the foundation, after their contents were catalogued, and then your family home would be preserved for all time, to guarantee our town's memory of the past, and all that made it decent and good." He paused, as though he was waiting for a response from me, but I decided not to take the bait. "You, of course, would have a position on the board of trustees, if you wished. And I would personally assume responsibility for guiding the project."
I thought for a moment. "I can't deny that it's a very interesting proposal. It would certainly tie things up neatly. But I hope that you will understand if I tell you that I have to take some time to think about it. I should probably also meet with my uncle's lawyer."
Forrest Hamilton couldn't stop a slightly sour expression from casting a shadow over his face. "You mean Clay Barker? I certainly understand that you must have legal counsel, but if you are relying on him, you might wish to get a second opinion. Please let me know if you need a list of competent attorneys in the area." He got up and went to his desk, where he retrieved an envelope. "This is a written proposal that outlines what I have in mind. Read it carefully. I assure you that it more than protects your interests."
I took the envelope from him. "I'll certainly take a look at it and consider it carefully." I glanced down at my watch. "But it's getting late. I should probably be going."
"Yes, it is late. But I'm pleased we had the opportunity to talk." He picked up a small bell and rang it. "Claude will show you out."
When the door opened, however, it was Beau who appeared, and it was Beau who showed me to the door, and it was Beau who slipped a second envelope into my hand at the door, and it was Beau who smiled and said that he would see me again, soon.
. . .
The rutted dirt road unfurled its way through the dense pines, veering first left and then right, winding first up and then down, before suddenly rolling to a stop in front of a very handsome, very hidden cabin in the woods. Its broad front porch was an invitation to sit and contemplate life, love, the past, the future, or nothing at all. The stone chimneys that rose from either end of the two-story structure were a pair of calm, comforting sentries. A tangle of old, thorny rose bushes that spilled onto the path was a testament to someone's romantic vision of a lover's hideaway. And best of all, Beau's car was already there, parked off to one side.
I bounded up onto the porch, eager to see him. It was tempting just to burst through the door, grab him, pick him up, throw him down, and have my way with him, but I exercised enough self-restraint to knock first.
"Hello, anybody home?" I called, affecting a Southern accent. "Yoo hoo!"
Footsteps, the rattle of an old and stubborn doorknob, the creak of a weathered door, and there he was, standing in front of me. Only today there was no smile on his face, no expression of pleasure to see me. At that moment there was only a frown and an angry red welt that bloomed across his handsome face, tracing a bloody route over his cheekbone.
"My God, Beau, what happened to you?" I pulled him toward me so that I could examine his wound.
"That asshole, that fucking asshole. After you left he came after me, told me that he wasn't as stupid as I thought, that he could see exactly what was going on, that he wasn't going to stand for it." Beau's breath was coming hot and fast, and he trembled with rage. "He told me that he wouldn't let me bring our family down, that there was no way he was going to let me carry on with a Yankee faggot. That there was no way that I'd ever see you again."
I put my arms around him, feeling his hot and sweaty anger, but he pushed me away. "How did you get this?" I asked, tracing the swollen mark on his cheek.
"I told him that he couldn't tell me what to do anymore, and he hit me with his cane. I knew then I had to leave, or I was gonna kill him. That asshole, that fucking asshole. Now I know why my daddy had to leave, to get away from him."
I followed Beau into the cabin, uncertain about how to calm him. He stalked angrily around the main room, seething with rage. "It's my life, not his. There's no fucking way he's gonna tell me what to do. If I want to be with you, if I want to kiss you, if I want to fuck you, that's what I'm gonna do."
Fire blazed in his wet eyes, and his face flushed red. Circling back around the couch, he grabbed me roughly by the arms and mashed his mouth against mine, pressing lips into teeth, rubbing his stubbled cheeks and chin against my skin. Urgently, angrily, he started to claw at the buttons on my shirt, popping them free, pulling at my zipper, stripping my clothes off of me until I stood there naked. Grunting, crying, hissing, Beau shed his own shorts and shirt and lunged at me, butting his body up against mine, seeking to use his mass to knock me off balance, pushing me down on the old couch, spearing his erect cock against mine, hungrily tasting my skin. He grabbed my wrists, twisting me around so that I was lying length-wise on the couch, pinned under his lithe body, which glistened with sweat. Breathing hard, almost desperately, he rubbed his smooth pectorals across my hairy chest, creating an electric charge between the two of us. I tried to lean up, to bring my mouth into contact with his, and he responded by roughly pushing me back down and planting his mouth on mine. As the older, stronger, sturdier man, I could have reversed the terms of our engagement, fought back, and flipped him over, regained dominance, or at least some measure of equality, but I could sense that, at that moment, he needed to be in charge, he needed to assert himself over me, over the world. I struggled and resisted just enough so that there would be a prize worth winning, but I chose to let him be victorious.
Still on top of me, Beau turned himself around and straddled my face, grinding his cock and balls over my nose and across my mouth. He was breathing hard as he pulled my legs apart and buried his face in my groin, chewing and biting the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, licking and sucking on my balls, using his hot, moist lips to bounce my hard cock left and right. As he started to suck, he mashed his erection against my mouth, and I reached out with my lips and grabbed the leaking head. The instant I had sucked him inside, he grunted and almost savagely jammed in the rest of his length, sinking all the way in to the root. I thought for a second that I was going to choke, but I took a deep breath through my nose and did my best to accommodate him as he began to fuck my mouth, all the while devouring my own cock with the appetite of a starving man.
The primitive grunts and groans that were the expression of his angry passion vibrated out from his throat and through my erection. He sucked and nipped at my foreskin, using his lips to pull it back and forth over my cockhead, as he attacked me with an animal intensity. More than once his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, causing me to flinch, but he just responded by using his body to pin me down even more tightly against the couch. All restraints gone, he devoured me.
It took awhile, but eventually he had gotten his fill of my cock. Ready to move on to his next target, he hooked his hands behind my thighs and rolled my butt back, giving his lips and tongue access to my asshole. The first contact between my quivering flesh and his saliva-coated lips was enough to send a shiver through my whole body, and he responded by pulling out of my mouth and planting his own butt right on top of my lips. All reason escaped me as we started to simultaneously rim each other, and I just held on for dear life. It was amazingly hot and wet and pungent and nasty and real. I was wide open for him and his probing tongue, and he just drenched my asshole with his saliva. Other than the sensations that were rippling through my body, all I could focus on was licking and sucking his winking hole. I wanted to him to feel exactly what I felt, each ripple of almost painful pleasure. I hadn't been that naked to another man in a long time, and I had no choice but to completely capitulate to him. The tide had turned. It was no longer a matter of me letting him call the shots; he had really, truly won.
He had won, and he was ready to claim his ultimate prize.
"I'm gonna fuck you, I'm gonna fuck you," he growled as he turned around once again, covering my body with his and positioning his cock at my back door. He reached down and scooped a liberal amount of precum off of my leaking erection. After smearing it over my already slick hole, he first slipped a couple of fingers inside, enabling him to poke and probe all of my internal pulse points. Satisfied I was ready enough, he pressed his cock up against my swollen sphincter and, without so much as a pause, poked through.
My guts initially fought back, but he ignored the signals that I tried to send and kept sinking deeper inside. Breathing hard, almost panting, wrapping my legs around his butt, I struggled to steady myself and adjust to his ragged strokes. Slowly, surely, I learned how to extract what I needed, what I wanted, from the friction and pressure that Beau was delivering into the very core of my being. Using a prehistoric language of primitive sounds, I struggled to communicate the degree of pleasure that he generated at every particular spot, the intensity of the feeling of contact between his young prick and my chute. Reaching down, I used my index and middle fingers to form a vee that framed my hole, enabling me to feel the slickness of his erection as it pumped inside of me, all the while jacking my own cock with my other hand.
We were suspended in another dimension, a dimension of heat and sweat and friction and lust. Our bodies fused into a vibrating organic machine, fueled by raw sexual energy. Every point of contact between us was a conduit for every sensation that we both were feeling. I wanted my hands on his back. I wanted his mouth on mine. I wanted my legs to wrap around his butt. I wanted his balls to bounce against my ass. I wanted his heart to feel mine beat. I wanted my sperm to cover our bodies, and his sperm to fill me up. I wanted our orgasms to multiply together. And they did.
"Oh, my fucking God," I groaned, pulling him down against me, trying to suck the air out of his lungs. He buried himself inside of me, just holding himself there as his cock erupted. Needing to maintain motion, needing to release our kinetic energy, we rocked our bodies together as we rode the wave of our orgasm. All of the possibilities in the world were open to us at that instant, the entire universe had shrunk down to that time and that place, and it was intensely beautiful. Almost to beautiful to look at. So I closed my eyes and used my whole body to see him.