Jay & Miles

by ColumbusGuy

Chapter 17

Explorations

POV: Mikey, Mikey

Coming down the back stairs, just before rounding the corner into the kitchen, I pulled Jay closer to me and kissed him one last time, "For later…." I murmured softly. He leaned into me with his head tilted up to receive the kiss and my hand went around his waist to pull him in further. The slamming of the back door broke the spell and I found myself unsure what to do with my hands—do I hold his hand in front of his parents this early in the day, or do we just act like it's any other morning? Jay solved my dilemma by giving me a push so that I stumbled into the kitchen, then came in right behind me with a huge grin.

"How careless of me—I thought you could enter a room without tripping on the pattern of the linoleum!" Of course, all eyes focused on us—me in particular. Jay didn't know it, but he'd just signed his death warrant, boyfriend or not. Then, he goes and puts his arm around my waist and takes my left one in his. "Let me help you to your chair—I can't have my elskede hurting himself on that nasty color change in the floor."

The bastard's evil grin gets even wider when he pulls my chair out for me and eases me into it before kissing the top of my head. "All comfy, dearie? Do you need some warm milk?" His voice was slightly raised as if I was losing my hearing, or my mind. I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders, knowing that I no longer had to worry about Jay meeting my mom—he'd be dead before noon at this rate. Linda made gagging noises at the sink as she finished washing her hands, and Rosalie just shook her head, continuing to flip pancakes onto the platter next to her. With only one resort left, I turned my eyes pleadingly to Dirck…..but his grin was even wider, and the twinkle in his eyes was nearly blinding.

"Sorry, son….when he gets like this there's not much to do but let it run its course." I shot a glare at Jay that did nothing at all, but then Dirck cleared his throat. "There was one thing though…seeing you in Jerry's old clothes reminds me of it—" I watched as Jay stiffened in his seat next to me, then paled when his dad went on: "Something about sunburn wasn't it mother?" Rosalie nodded, putting the big platter of pancakes and bacon on the table next to the butter dish and pitcher of maple syrup. She looked between the three of us, before finally fixing on Jay.

"Ja, søde….he'd look at Jay, then ask him if he needed to have me check out how his sunburn was healing." The way Jay's eyes dropped to his lap and his face turned beet red told me there was a story here, one I was determined to find out about some day. "I'm sorry, Mikey…." I stopped him by squeezing his hand and giving him a smile as I mouthed 'later', then piled four large pancakes on each of our two plates. The milk wasn't what I knew from the store….it was richer, and somehow, thicker. I was worried for a second before remembering that dairies sterilized it, then put all the vitamins and things back in—this came straight from the source, so I stopped thinking about it when I realized Jay had drunk this every day of his life—and boy was he healthy.

The others were putting butter on top of their pancake stacks then pouring syrup on, then moving to pick out some bacon strips for the side of their plates. The faint clinking of silverware died as I started to work on my own meal; like always, I pulled back the top three with my fork and buttered and syruped the bottom one before dropping down the next one, repeating this process pancake by pancake until all four were individually coated with melting butter and golden maple-y sweetness. Before painstakingly cutting my pancakes into small two-inch square stacks, I put two slices of bacon on the rim of the plate, their other ends resting on the tablecloth. I was lifting the fork with its first four-layered stack of pancake to my mouth when I caught the stares. I could feel myself getting nervous, wondering if I had something on my shirt or my face—not sure how that could be since I hadn't actually had a bite yet. Jay motioned with his fork at my plate, his mouth too full of pancake to do more than a questioning grunt.

I ignored him for a bit, so I could take my first bite—hadn't he seen people eat pancakes before? As the syrup hit my tongue, I also spotted something different, and it took me a minute to recognize it as cinnamon. Boy did it send them over the top—I swallowed and turned to tell Rosalie just that, and she told me her mother taught her that trick, along with the one about adding orange to chocolate-chip cookies like I'd had last night. She asked me if I had enough syrup, and only then did I understand why they had stared at me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hog it—I always eat them that way at home…I like it when every piece has syrup on it. I didn't mean to cause trouble." I hung my head so they wouldn't see how badly I felt—nobody'd ever commented on how I ate at home, so I just thought it was normal. They'd never have me back now. Dirck's loud laugh made me look at him as he shook his head from side to side. "Son, you watch—the Eating Machine next to you will go back for syrup at least once more before he starts on his second stack! What you saw at dinner last night and just now is because he has company—when that wears off, it's every man for himself. Eat up now—growing boys need all the energy they can get."

Linda snorted after swallowing her bite of bacon. "Just remember that far, when I ask my boyfriend to stay next weekend….I mean—Jeepers—it was like they were wrestling half the night, or else they had two cats going at it in there!"

I tried sinking down into my chair, preferably to disappear under the table as I waited for the argument to start. My stomach began to churn and I was afraid I was going to be sick, but Jay grabbed my hand and pulled me up against him. He wrapped me in his arms and rubbed my back in little circles to calm me down, and then he gave me a gentle but lingering kiss….right in front of his parents and sister! "Jay…." I barely managed to whisper, not sure I could say more—or even what I would say if I could. "Stille, min elskede….it's gonna be all right, I promise."

With his arm still holding me close, Jay turned slightly so that we were facing all three members of his family, and pulled out the little Pegasus from under his shirt—I quickly did the same with my silver oak tree. I didn't know what he would do or say, but my faith in his love was enough for me to follow where he led.

"I aftes fik jeg et løfte og en gave af min elskede, og jeg gav ham min kærlighed til gengæld." I felt his arm tighten, and when I looked into his sapphire eyes, I saw tears. My own started when he added, "Mikey and I can't be married like you and mor, but we promised each other our deepest love; these charms remind us that what one lacks, we can find in the other—always and forever."

For a few moments the five of us just sat there, I was fretting about what they'd say—knowing we were in love was one thing, but pledging ourselves to one another was a big step for people our age. Jay's hand moved to the small of my back and his other one squeezed mine softly….I'm with you, he was saying to me silently. Dirck and Rosalie looked at each other, and I saw her nod as she let the tears start to fall. Dirck swallowed and cleared his throat a few times before he walked around the table to wrap Jay in a big hug. "Tillykke, søn," he whispered before pulling me in with his other arm. I saw his eyes glisten as their brown gaze settled on me. "Velkommen til familien, Miles." The warmth of another set of arms and the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon let me know that Rosalie had enfolded us in her own embrace along with her husband. "Gid I altid må følges ad i kærlighed, mine kære drenge." Jay told me later that she'd wished us to 'travel the road together in love forever'—paraphrasing an old Danish wedding song.

The hug broke up when the sound of another chair scraping across the floor made us look to where Linda was rising. She circled the table and stared at us one by one, her brown eyes falling finally on Jay and myself. I hadn't met their brother Jerry at all—he was three years older than us, and we were just starting 9th Grade when he was a Senior—but I was sure that this girl was the hardest of all to win over. I didn't know why she disliked me, and when she just stood there unblinkingly, I felt like a specimen under a microscope from Miss Reed's Biology class. I felt the urge to squirm, but pushed it down and returned her gaze with a look of determination, letting her know that I wouldn't be scared off from loving her brother. After what seemed an eternity, but was less than a minute, she slowly extended her hand and shook mine in a firm grasp. I hoped I'd passed her test, and I think I did, finally.

As she sat down, the rest of us did too, and finished up the remnants of our breakfast. Dirck produced a bottle of æble snaps and poured a little into small liqueur glasses. When we each had a glass of the apple-scented brandy, he stood and raised it to us then said "Skål og tillykke!" Jay motioned for me to stand beside him when Dirck sat, and we raised our glasses to each of them "Skål!" we said together. We sat talking for a few minutes after the dishes were put in the sink, then Jay and I wandered out to the yard to enjoy the morning's bright sun and warmer temperatures. The last thing I heard as we put our shoes on was Linda's laughter.

"Jerry's gonna just shit when he hears this!"


Out in the yard, the coolness of the morning was giving way to warmer breezes the higher the sun rose—I could smell the scent of apple blossoms on the wind when it came from the direction of the small orchard, and also the smell of turned earth from the vegetable garden about twenty feet from the back door. As Jay explained it, this patch and those that would hold other crops had been plowed late in the fall so that the frost and cold of winter could break up the earth, making it easier to work in spring. A path separated the garden into halves, leading back to the orchard, and I felt Jay's hand slip into mine as we went. There were poles along the boundaries of the garden, and rows of them in some sections: "Those are for beans and tomatoes to climb on—string will be added to the ones for beans later, and the poles on the outside are for fencing we'll put up once the crops start to grow—deer are a major pain."

My dad put in a garden every year, about the size of this one, so I wasn't completely lost….but I'd never be a farmer like him—he grew up on a farm before moving south to Columbus during the War, where he'd worked in a factory making armor plating for battleships. He couldn't join the services like his brother Eddie had in the Tank Corps, but he had done what he could on the home front. His farming was all done with horse-drawn machinery like all the families in their part of Morrow County, but he'd stayed in the city after the War to work at other jobs—a bakery for a long time, and now for a dairy pretty much since I'd been born. He also had a job running a team that inventoried businesses in central and southern Ohio. That took up his weekends from Friday night to Sunday, so I only saw him for a few hours each weeknight. He was a few years short of 60, but tall and strong, with a tan that hardly ever faded even in winter….

"What is it, elskede?" The soft voice and gentle touch to my cheek brought me back to the here-and-now. We were in the middle of frothy white apple-blossoms—somehow I'd spaced out for a couple minutes thinking of my father. Jay's blue eyes drew me in and calmed me instantly with their Summer-evening depths, and I shook my head. "The garden reminded me of all us kids working in dad's growing up…it was about the same acre-size and was a lot of work, but our huge old oak with its tree-house was close, and we'd climb and rest there when it got too hot. With my sisters gone now, I don't know if we'll even have one this year—it was smaller the last few years than it used to be." Jay's hand pulled my face close as he stretched to give me a kiss…and once again, my brain rolled over and began to purr at this new joyful sensation.

"Well, I certainly won't mind you coming to help out—especially when it's hot and we can take our shirts off!" He pulled me after him through the orchard and out into the patchwork of fields, some fallow, some plowed earth, others given over to hay or soybeans, clover or pasture grass. Most of their edges were given over to the native plants and flowers, even some bushes and berries….and in various spots were small clumps of trees like buckeye, ironwood, oak and birch. Fairly soon, I saw it was to one very large section of woods that my boyfriend was leading me. "How big is this farm?"

"It's big enough," he snickered at me, and I rolled my eyes at his innuendo—why did I expect anything other than that? The small wood we were in now was still only just starting to bud and leaf out, so the sun still got to us through the tangled canopy above us. I think we were following an animal track, or one the Beckels' had worn over the years, because we wound up at a clearing next to a stream, which fed a pond about half-an-acre in size. One big tree had some boards nailed to it to form a sort of ladder, and Jay scrambled up it, turning back to tell me to hurry up. About fifteen feet up I saw several platforms secured between large branches—they'd been pallets for crates and things at one time, now they were a setting for a Summer hide-away amongst the trees.

"Far and Jerry built this when he was a kid; we all used it for a long time—even Linda—but now I'm the only one who still comes here. It's cool and shady on the hottest summer days, and I can swim in the pond, eat my lunch or just lay back and watch the sun move through the branches….It's my 'alone-place' for when I need to think, or try to cheer myself up." As he was telling me this, he'd swept leaves away and pulled me down to sit beside him, and it was almost an instinctual thing when I leaned back against the trunk and pulled him in to nestle between my legs. My arms wrapped around his abdomen and he rested his head on my shoulder. "I've never brought anybody here before Mikey…will you share it with me?"

Jay looked up at me when I didn't answer right away...I couldn't because the lump in my throat was too big to let words out. I fought hard to hold in the tears—thanks to this wonderful young man in my arms, I'd cried more in the past few days than ever before—but I'd also never been happier. Those eyes filled my vision so that all I saw was blue surrounding me, Jay was more than a support to my spirit—sitting here among the trees, he had quite literally carried me up into the air and out of my prison of isolation and lonely despair. For the moment, I could only nod, and I kissed the hollow of his throat where the silver Pegasus I'd given him lay on its fine-linked chain. "Tell me about Jerry…since I'm wearing his clothes I ought to know something about him—especially the sunburn bit."

Jay stuck his tongue out at me, so naturally I captured it with my lips and sucked it into my mouth, still tasting of maple syrup, and delaying his answer to my question about his older brother. When we finally came up for air, he began, "Picture far and you have Jerry—Gejr Harald Beckel—an inch shorter, a few less muscles, but the same near-white blond hair and eyes like the noon sky…." Jay's voice grew softer as he talked of his brother, and his grip around me tightened; he missed his brother so much it was palpable, and it made me jealous that I'd never had a brother growing up. I heard about Jay's first real non-crib bed—and how he was always in Jerry's before he fell asleep…how bunk-beds too had been rejected and when asked in later years about getting separate beds, one or the other would simply say 'he's my brother….he needs me.' Jerry was his hero, solving his problems or helping him at school, getting Jay to play games with him and his older friends….taking on other boys who tried to pick on Jay for being small.

And, blushing furiously, his face half-buried in my shirt, I learned about the sunburn; like Jerry, I too winced at the description of my boy's first jerkings, and I would have put my hands over my crotch, but his were already there—and he gave it a pretty hard squeeze when I started to laugh. I now felt his pain—literally! He didn't even leave out the fact that his first fantasy-object had been Jerry….after that day, Jay said he understood the concept of 'private time', and the two boys made sure each of them had enough of it. I listened as he told how Jerry left after graduation two years ago to join the Coast Guard—he wanted to help others, and figured that he could do that there as well as get practical experience for later studies in medicine—whether human or veterinary, I couldn't be sure.

The only thing my vision spared me was the prospect of military service…I would never be considered for it, and despite the Viet-Nam war being over at last, I was supremely grateful. I could never fight with anyone, much less kill them….and while I thought the war had been a mistake, I understood those who felt the need to defend freedom. Seeing the war footage every night on the news, with its gunship attacks and napalm, and attendant body counts and evac helicopter shots of the dying and wounded had made me a pacifist. I would defend the right to free speech and press with any tool short of violence, but fighting I left to those who could do it—I'd even gone so far as looking into starting a chapter of Students For A Democratic Society. It sounded like Jerry held similar views, opting for a service whose main goal was to safeguard the public and render assistance in times of disaster. I wondered if he would come back changed from his tour of duty as my oldest sister had from the Marines?

"I think I like Jerry," I murmured into Jay's golden hair. "I know I love his baby brother." Well that was a mistake and asking for trouble—which Jay amply provided for me by jumping to his feet, grasping a branch above us with one hand, and his crotch with the other. "Baby brother this...." I could only stare for a moment before my hands encircled his butt, drawing him in so that my lips brushed the front of his jeans...his bulge was growing rapidly and I traced its outline with my tongue and nibbled with my teeth. The fresh scent of his strawberry shampoo came to my nose, and I inhaled like I'd been holding my breath for days. I fumbled with his zipper, being careful not to tear it this time, and started to pull his pants down, then thought better of it. "Jay, there's not much room here—isn't there some other place we can go?"

He sighed regretfully and let go of the branch above him, and nearly fell as the platform dipped downward under the unbalanced weight. I grabbed him and pulled him down again, then helped him to fasten his pants up. "I see what you mean," he laughed and led me back down the ladder. I took him into my arms as we turned away from the pond and the beautiful clearing. "We'll come back as soon as it's warm enough and spend the whole day—maybe even sleep out under the stars." I ambled by his side, our hands clasped and swinging between us when we weren't pressed shoulder-to-shoulder. I let out a snort when we approached the barn from the side facing away from the house.

"So Gulliver gets a free show?" I grinned at him. We patted his horse's flanks and soft muzzle as we passed him; both of us reveling in the sheer horsiness of him, and Jay led the way up a ladder to a trap door in the ceiling. He pushed the creaky door open and climbed up into the space revealed. All I could see was his butt, which was fine with me. When he moved out onto the floor above, I finally got my head through to see a dimly lit open area reaching to the side walls of the old barn. The interior framing was all made of large chestnut timbers twelve inches square and fastened with pegged joints. A framework of crossbeams and angled timbers supported the ridge-pole, and those tied into four timbers that ran all the way down to the foundation stone below the main floor. The side walls of grayish oak easily rose ten feet above the pine flooring into cobwebby shadows. Two cupolas, each a third of the way from the end wall, let sunlight into the huge space. I was immediately struck by the smell of sweetly-cured grass. One end was filled with bales of hay, the other was yellowish straw, and some of each covered the floor loosely near each end.

"Over here, elskede…" I turned to see Jay standing in the loose straw next to some bales, holding a grayish blanket in his arms. The light caused his hair to glow, while the rest of him was in shades of gray. He motioned for me to close the trap door before joining him, and I did so with a truly wicked grin…he shook out the blanket over the loose straw and sat on it, removing his sneakers, and I nearly tripped kicking off my loafers before settling down against him. Like lemmings following blind instinct, my lips and hands sought contact with my love, and he giggled when my breath tickled his ear. "I want to ask you something, Slik, before we do anything else…" When he saw the panicked expression on my face, he pulled me in for a tight, long squeeze.

"No…it's fine–well, I hope anyway. Elskede, I know you said you were ready for us to do stuff like last night–and I want it just as much–but I don't want you to think that sex is all I'm after. I've gone four years without sex involving anyone but me–so I can wait until you're sure–I love you so much, but I don't need the sex to prove it to you…." I stopped his words with a finger to his lips, allowing it to caress their softness before moving on to his smooth cheek. Damn I wish I didn't have to shave so often.

"Shucks, kæreste…don't you think I know that already? Foxy as you are, horny as I get…I still wouldn't do any of that stuff unless I was sure. Last night we pledged our hearts to each other–for me, there were no reservations at all. Do whatever you want with me or to me, because I have faith in your love." I tweaked the end of his nose and shook my head sadly. "It seems you're gonna need reminding fairly often that it was me who ripped your jeans off last night…not the other way around. If I have to start everything we do, then your parents are gonna wonder why you're spending so much money on new clothes.

"Now, if that's settled–get your ass in gear and ravish me." To make it easier for both of us, I stood up and drew Jay with me, letting my hands begin unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt. This time his hands were right there along with mine, mirroring my actions as he worked on Jerry's borrowed clothes. For me, the sight of Jay in just his briefs and socks was still so new that it made it hard to breathe for a second–and watching his corn-flower blue eyes roam over my body, I know I turned red all the way down to my cotton-clad toes. My hands worked their way slowly down from his waves of fine golden hair, rubbing his shoulders and tweaking his pink nipples before coming to rest on his yellow brief-clad hips. I felt him shudder with the pleasure I was giving him, and I couldn't suppress the moans his own hands were causing on their trek down my own form. We joined bodies in a sensual dance as we kissed, long and deep, before I pulled back. "Much as I want to go on–I can't go through all your new underwear in one day…" My thumbs worked under the waistband and skimmed the cotton down his legs to his feet, then off. Jay did the same with mine a moment later.

After some more staring and soft touches, Jay finally took the lead, guiding me down until we were both lying on the blanket facing one another…I thought he'd start kissing me right away, but he just smiled when he saw the acceptance in my eyes. "One ravishment coming up, elskede," his words coming just before he placed his hands on my shoulders and rolled me onto my back. I let some of the air out of my lungs when he climbed on top of me full-length, letting his weight settle over me like a living blanket–a warm, wriggling blanket. My Dane supported himself on one arm, just barely brushing my body with his for a moment, our chests just making contact at our nipples, while his other hand groped between us for our dicks. I let out a gasp when he took both of them in his hand for a few strokes before lining them up between us as he lowered himself fully onto me once more. Very slowly, he began to thrust and slide against me, our two cocks rubbing side-by-side, the friction causing incredible sensations of heat and a maddening urge to rise to meet him–but his weight prevented me from returning those same movements. What was more frustrating still was the way he varied the force and speed of his movements–I'd get used to one rhythm, then he'd change it again so that I would be fighting to maintain control of my own body–one minute I'd be enjoying the tingly sensations of impending orgasm, then I'd be back to that joyous feeling that I couldn't possibly become more aroused–only I could.

Though the hay-mow was dim and cool, passion wasn't the only thing building up between me and Jay–sweat was also beginning to make our sliding flesh slicker and the feelings of skin against skin more erotic. I was panting rather than breathing, and Jay's maple-y breath filled my nostrils every time he leaned down to kiss my lips, nibble an ear or even lick my nose–that was something I hadn't felt before, and I moaned deep in my throat when he did it a second time. Oh–fuck–how much closer could I get to cumming–and not do it? And then–Jay rolled off of me! Before I could even begin to form a coherent thought, he was back again, this time reversed, so that his head was nearing my crotch and achingly drooling cock. He hadn't even done more than breathe softly into my pubes before I was going absolutely crazy...then I felt his tongue touch my hot flesh–not at the top, but at the bottom before working its languorous way up my shaft. My head was thrashing from side to side as I hissed and groaned like an old steam train, and my face came into contact with Jay's socked foot when I raised it to get a glimpse of my lover's hot backside; a deep inhalation brought the odor of soap overlaid with just a tiny bit of sneaker to my brain, and my tongue shot out to lick the cotton in front of me. My fingers slipped around his ankle and down to his instep, and his leg jerked involuntarily at the feeling I caused, then he swore when I licked and nibble my way down to his foot's most sensitive area. This was an awkward position for us, so I reluctantly let go of his bent lower leg and focused on making my way up his inner leg to his thigh. Jay slipped upward just enough so that my questing tongue could reach his own jewels, and he giggled around my cock when I let my lips move from his thigh to his balls, taking them into my mouth gently, giving each one a caress with my tongue and a little suction from my jaws.

Jay's sack was now coated in saliva and I felt something warm dribble onto my throat–he was leaking pre-cum from his throbbing pole almost as much as I normally did, and I let myself work up to capture his head between my lips. Mixed with mine last night as we sampled our juices for the first brief time was great–but this, by itself–I had no words for it: it was Jay–and I would never taste anything more appetizing. From not too far away, I heard slurping noises as he went nuts on my own dick, as wet from spit and my own dribbling as his had become on my own tongue. As I worked at him, I realized that I could now buck my hips a bit with our weight mostly on our chests, so I thrust gently up into his mouth, pulling his own hips down so I could get more of him into me. His tongue licked feverishly at my shaft trying to get at every inch as his lips slid further down toward my crotch…only to stop a couple inches from bottom with a little strangled cough. I knew what the problem was–and I felt bad that Jay had felt like he let me down this morning when he couldn't take all of my length. It was hard for me too, but my task was a tad easier since he was an inch shorter than me.

I tried again the trick I'd accidentally learned this morning–my mouth had filled with saliva and I'd had to swallow, and that let the last half inch of Jay in, and my nose was buried in his wispy pubes. Along the way, I'd also picked up on the method of breathing through my nose rather than my mouth, unless I wanted to torture him with my warm breath. I was in no hurry now since we were undisturbed, but I wanted all of him–so I tried that little trick again, and he filled my mouth to the hilt, nudging my tonsils with his swollen mushroom head. I rotated my head just a bit and his groans and moans echoed from the high dark rafters above us. I started to massage his tip with my throat muscles as my lips pursed around his throbbing shaft. "H-how…did you…do that?" I heard him gasp as he raised off my dick for a minute to catch his breath. I 'hmm'd' my question around his cock and he shuddered and let out a "Holy shit!" exclamation.

I wanted to get back to my new favorite treat, as he'd already took me back into his mouth, so I kept it short, "Nose…breathe…go slow…swallow." My mouth came back to his perfect dick and it wasn't long before I felt him trying my advice–when I felt his lips finally touch my root and his teeth lightly graze at my hairs, my fingers dug into his butt cheeks and pulled him as tight to my face as I could. They roamed over his taut glutes and I pulled his cheeks apart to rub my thumbs along his crevice, hoping he'd do the same, but it must have been too difficult for him to reach with my ass resting on the blanket. It scared me how good it felt when he'd slipped his finger into me this morning–not because it was a new sensation–but because it was so much better than the times I'd done it myself. I hoped he'd follow my lead, so my thumbs rubbed gently near his back entry and one finger rested on it in a gentle massage. The moans around my dick were intensified ten-fold, and I knew it would be over soon if this kept up. His dick swelled and throbbed in my mouth and his movements got a bit more direct. He grunted when my finger's massage got stronger, circling him until I rested the tip at his hole. Just a little more…and my index finger slipped inside him; I let it stay there motionless as he adjusted to this small invasion. But still he didn't do the same to me. I wouldn't push him, but I was done with this 'permission' crap. My left hand moved down to take hold of one of his and I led it to my own cheeks, rubbing it along my crack and pushing his finger between my cheeks to rub there too. He raised his eyes to stare into mine, and I nodded around his dick. I was so caught up in trying to give his dick my attention and maximum pleasure that I was unprepared for the intensity as his smaller fingers massaged my anus and stroked that itchy space behind my balls. When his digit actually slipped in, my moan was probably enough to wake Gulliver if he'd been in his stall. Fortunately, he was out in his paddock.

The light sheen of sweat on our bodies aided my fingers to rub Jay's backside, and I let my finger go deeper into him, stopping at every grunt and ready to pull it out at the first sign of discomfort. The air in the loft seemed thin, I couldn't get enough of it without huge gasps, and Jay must have felt the same as he imitated my sobbing breaths. He became bolder as the seconds passed, not only did the tension in his body relax, but also his own fingers probed deeper than before. I know I would have screamed if it weren't for his iron-hot poker in my mouth. I was moaning like a two-dollar whore, as the old saying went, and I now knew exactly why she would do that. We were both squirming on top of one another, sweaty, hot and charged with electric intensity, and my eyes squeezed shut when Jay's innocent probing found it–the Spot! I nearly passed out from the overload to my brain, and my dick got harder than it ever had when the downward movement of my hips synched up just right with his probing finger to jam into my prostate…and I shot into Jay's unsuspecting throat. It was all over except for the shouting…well, one shout anyway.

"Jeepers…" When my vision came back, I looked down the length of our bodies to see my blond-haired god running his tongue around his lips, then around my cock-head. The bastard had swallowed every drop, just as he'd promised. The smug grin on his inflamed lips was just like the cat that got the cream…well, he wasn't going to keep that expression for long if I could help it. I renewed my attack on his pole with every ounce of determination and stamina I possessed; no place went un-licked, un-tasted or un-fondled. Mr. Hoover would have been envious of the suction I applied to Jay's rampant dick…if he could have harnessed it, he'd have invented a much better vacuum cleaner. Jay was so close, it wouldn't take much more to bring him off also, but I held back, wanting to make him see that paybacks could be costly things–I would prove to be just as smug as he was, or he'd die from my attempt to prove it. Now with his mouth free except for the occasional suck or lick, his moaning turned to soft, then louder curses, and finally whimpers begging me to let him cum…his sweat had lubed my finger's efforts to enter him, and I managed another inch–just enough to graze his own prostate–and with that he too blasted my tonsils with his pent up milk.

"Shazam!" That was Jay all over, my Superhero. Hmm, rich, slightly nutty flavor, full-bodied. '76 is a good vintage. It took a few swallows to clear my mouth, then my tongue finished cleaning him off before he squirmed at the sensitivity of his spent tool. We each lay there, utterly relaxed and renewing our strength before he turned onto his back to sit up; my hand went out to steady him, and he pulled on it so that I was sitting next to him, our chests and shoulders touching. My left hand went around to the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss that deepened to involve tongues exchanging boy essence between us. For me at least, as great as it tasted by itself, it was definitely better mixed together with hisjust as I viewed my life to be. "Shazam? You turning into Captain Marvel on me?" I couldn't hold back the silly giggles anymore.

I was enveloped in his arms and he kissed the little oak tree pendant around my neck–this was becoming a habit with him, and I felt my breath catch when he did it; my left hand rose between us and stroked the Pegasus he wore, it felt warm to my touch and filled me with a completeness and a confidence I'd never felt before this week…I could feel calm and peace exuding from him and into my entire being, just as I could feel the beat of his heart coming from him by way of the back of my hand resting at his throat. When I raised my eyes from the winged horse to his eyes, I knew he felt the same thing I did.

"Why not? I love you so much that I feel like a hero because of it–you won't ever have to worry again if I can prevent it." The next thing I knew, Jay was yet again wiping the tears from my eyes and kissing their lids gently before handing me my glasses. As if that brought me back into focus, I realized we smelled of sex, and sweat and straw. Jay gathered up our clothes and sorted them out, handing me my purple briefs first. When I had them on, and he'd donned his yellow ones, he grinned at me–trouble, I knew from experience.

"Feeling adventurous?" he smirked at me, wondering if I'd be up for what he had in mind now. I nodded, which gave him a second's hesitation before he went on. "There's a sink and toilet in the corner of the barn downstairs–we can freshen up in there–but it'd be best to carry the clothes rather than get the sweat smell on them." I watched as he pulled on his sneakers and slipped my feet into my loafers as he folded the blanket and put it behind one of the bales of straw. "Ready?" He opened the trap door and put his head through it to see if anyone was down there…then climbed down the ladder like a monkey. It was a bit lighter on the main floor with its several multi-paned windows, but a bit cooler than the loft had been, and I shivered, feeling the air wafting around my near-naked body. Goosebumps were standing out on my arms, and my nipples hardened at the forbidden excitement of being in my underwear in public–okay, maybe Gulliver was the only one watching–but you know what I mean. The sink was old, with a wooden top and a cast iron hand pump to the side rather than faucets, and the toilet had a wooden tank mounted about seven feet up the side of the room with a brass pipe leading down into the back of the commode beneath. Jay took a worn rag from a small shelf and pumped the handle a few times until water splashed into the sink. He dipped the rag into it, and handed me a bar of Lava soap to lather up. The beige bar was well used but it worked–I applied it to my pits, groin and chest while Jay followed with the wet rag, then I did the same for him. Finally clean, we dressed one another as we had this morning and walked out into the barn.

Dirck turned from where he'd come in the far end, and gave us a lop-sided grin. "Hyggeligt, drenge?" I knew what that word meant besides cozy, along with the implied actions Jay told me about yesterday, and just smiled red-facedly. Jay returned the grin and winked, but I didn't see him do that since I was slightly behind him with my hand resting on his back. Dirck put away the tools he'd been using outside and told us lunch was nearly ready so we should head inside. As I passed him, he put a hand to the back of my head and tousled my hair, pulling out a piece of straw to show me. "You might want to brush your hair, boys–you can catch all sorts of things down on the farm, Mikey."

"You're right, far–I caught myself a blond stallion on yours!" Dirck roared with laughter and pulled me into a tight hug when we saw Jay's shocked expression and wide-open mouth. He drew Jay in with his other arm and steered us toward the back door of the house. We pulled off our shoes and left him down in the kitchen with Rosalie as we went upstairs to deal with our hair and put on fresh deodorant. I also dabbed on more British Sterling before we went back to see what we could do to help with lunch. It seemed that the meal would be mostly sandwiches and soup, since dinner would be the leftovers from last night. Jay set the table, handing me the silverware, while Dirck filled glasses with cold milk and water. Rosalie told Jay to set just four places since Linda had gone to eat with her friend Debbie. It seemed her parents had relented with her good behavior and hard work doing Jay's chores and her own too.

Lunch went fairly slowly, each of us savoring the home-made tomato soup and thick-sliced ham on the sandwiches. I had mine with Swiss cheese on rye bread, and Jay had his on whole wheat with some mustard. The milk was cold and hit just the right spots on its way down, and we were soon at dessert–chocolate ice cream with marshmallow swirls in it. Jay laughed when my eyes lit up and told everybody not to get in the way or they could lose an arm in my haste to wolf down the treat. When we finished and Jay and I washed the dishes despite Rosalie's protests, we joined them in the living room. Dirck was watching something on television, while his wife was reading under a bridge lamp at her end of the couch. I felt Jay's hand on my shoulder push me down onto the other one across from that his parents shared, and he told me to stretch out, then lay down in front of me so I could pull him into my chest with our usual tangle of legs. Of their own accord, my arms came to rest on his stomach, and my fingers rubbed in small circles as I breathed in the strawberry scent of his golden hair.

I knew I would be going home soon, and I didn't want to. Everything I really wanted out of life had come as a package with this wonderful family: a killer boyfriend, concern and attention–but not crushingly oppressive like at home–and love from the best lover I could ever hope to find. As if sensing my mood change, Jay reached up with his arm and pulled me close enough to plant a kiss on my cheek, his smile banished my worry…it might be tough to get through the nights without him now, but if I could see that smile and blue-eyed glimmer of love every day, I'd get through it. We'd lain there for nearly an hour when the phone rang, and Jay got up to get it in the kitchen. My arms felt deprived of their purpose now that he'd left them, and I sighed. I saw Dirck and Rosalie regarding me with kindly smiles–Rosalie had put her book aside and was leaning into her big husband's side.

"Does it ever end?" I asked quietly, meaning the overwhelming sense of love and connection I felt for their youngest son. The lingering glance they gave one another and Dirck's arm circling his wife's shoulders gave me the answer before either of them spoke. "If you're lucky, it never does…" he said, and Rosalie added, "Søde, if the couple is right for each other, it only gets better as time goes by. Some people will say relationships take a lot of hard work to maintain, but we–Dirck and I–have never had to do much to keep it going, beyond caring for each other. I think the two of you are a good match, and only doing something stupid could ruin it for you."

Dirck gave her hair a soft caress before he took up the 'newlywed' advice. "Søn, you'll get all sorts of advice–but here's the best you'll ever get: ignore it–it's bullshit. Only the two of you can possibly know what's going on–just listen to your hearts, and do what they tell you–if you do that honestly and don't try to hide behind 'talking it through' to find excuses to do otherwise–then it'll work out. Rosa and I've done pretty well with that for over twenty two years now."

"There'll be fights once in a while," Rosalie said. Although Dirck snorted at his wife's comment, she carried on anyway. "We had some good ones in the early years–but we pulled back, looked into our hearts to see if the love was still there–and when we found it still, we set everything else aside and got it settled. And I mean everything: anger, pride, false humility, grudges, jealousy and suspicions–those just get in the way of really being a couple. It will hurt sometimes to look honestly at yourselves, believe me, but if you can do that then the love wins every time."

Dirck saw the look on my face and knew what I was thinking. "It's hard to do, Miles, but it's the best feeling in the world to have the one you love as the prize. You've got it in you to do this–that's why Jay chose you–he saw the person under all the doubts and insecurities, and recognized his other half…" Rosalie reached over and took his hand in hers, rubbing the knuckles roughened by hard work. "From what we've seen, Jay was right in every way. Trust yourself, Mikey…and trust Jay." I got up and walked over to kneel in front of them so I could look them in the eye without straining, and I whispered a heart-felt thanks to them. "Tusind tak, far…mor…for the advice–and for Jay."

Like a tornado, Jay bounded into the room with a whoop and a shout, bending over to pull me to my feet; in some way I'll never understand, he picked me up and twirled me around in a circle with our chests pressed tightly together.

"He's coming home! J-One's coming home!"

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