Jay & Miles
by ColumbusGuy
Chapter 50
New Growth
POV: Denny, Jay
I spent Saturday night with Greg after we left the drive-in. I'd only stayed over once since we started going out, just as he'd stayed at my house Easter weekend when my parents were up in Cleveland at a fundraiser. We probably could have slept at my house on weekends—we had six bedrooms counting my parents' suite—but Greg's house felt more like a home, not just a place to lay your head. It was after one in the morning by the time we got back, and the only light glowing in the house was on the newel post at the foot of the stairs. Greg turned off the porch light as we came inside, and I took his hand as he led the way back toward the kitchen.
He pulled a glass from the dish rack before filling it with iced tea from the fridge. "I wanted to talk for a little bit before we go up to bed…."
We took seats next to each other at the table, and he took my hands in his after taking a sip from the glass. Something was worrying him, I could tell from the way he stroked my hands with his…and the fact that he was not quite looking me in the eyes.
"At the movies…well, in the rest room…" he took another sip from the glass. "Well, was I pushing things too fast? By playing with myself, then stepping back so you and Bill could see each other too?" His voice was barely a whisper, and I could hear a quaver in it—this was really bothering him. "I promised I'd never do that…and I feel like I broke my promise to you tonight…."
With those words, two things suddenly hit me full force—my Reb loved me more deeply than I'd thought possible…and he was so worried about the stuff I'd gone through that he was almost more torn up about it than I was. Since we'd shared our pasts in our grove, we hadn't really discussed it much except to schedule our 'appointments'—and now I realized that had been a mistake. Now I knew just how much his little game of 'Don't Scare The Yank' was in fact, deadly serious for him.
I was glad we were next to each other at the little table, all I had to do was lean toward him to enfold him in my arms and bring his coppery head to rest in the hollow between my neck and shoulders…then begin to pepper his soft hair with gentle kisses. I felt him relax into my embrace, and judging by his sniffles, I knew he was crying. I had a flash of another scene like this from my past, only it was me being comforted by my grandfather…and I tried to pour some of that strength and love into Greg just as the old man had done for me then. I stroked his hair with one hand while my other pulled him closer to do the same on his back, and my lips whispered those same gentle words of love: "Cariad…Mae'n iawn…"
Greg tried to look up at me, but that would mean he'd have to pull away a bit, and I wasn't going to let him do that just yet. I put my lips next to his ear again and shushed him with a few more of the Welsh endearments that had meant so much to me before my Daid-cu passed on. With singing being such a big part of my early life—even though I couldn't do it myself—I'd had to learn some of that language to play along with my cousins and my aunts and uncles. It always gave me a sense of safety and love when I thought of my grandfather, and I tried to pass that same feeling on to my boyfriend now.
"Reb, it's okay," I repeated softly, this time in English. "You don't know just how good for me you are. You've given me so much love since we've been together that it has swamped those bad memories from my old life…." I picked up the glass of tea and took a little sip, then held it up for my guy to drink. "Thanks to you, I'm finding out just what sex ought to be—I may not be there yet—but I can see the day when you and I will become one in that way too."
Greg's eyes searched mine for long moments before he leaned back into me. "But I promised to go slow…."
I kissed his lips into silence, and then moved on to his eyelids and the tip of his nose in turn. I needed to make him feel the same certainty about us that I did. "And you have, my sweet Reb…maybe a little slower than you needed to, but that's my fault for not explaining more." His pale blue eyes looked into mine, and I could see the confusion in them like it was written in neon letters a foot high.
I couldn't help it—I chuckled—then launched an assault on his lips with my own. "I couldn't have wished for a better lover," I said softly. "You are the gentlest man I will ever meet…and the most caring. You were so right in assuming I was afraid of some things, like oral sex…but that and the things which lead up to it are the only things I'm really scared to do—for now. Those guys showed no interest in me beyond getting their rocks off—no interest in touching me or giving me any pleasure of my own—so all the other stuff we've done was pure pleasure for me. I love touching you, kissing you…and having you do those things for me; thanks to you, I'm happily acquainted with the joys of getting a blow job, and want so much to return the favor as soon as I can…."
"I didn't think when I did that earlier tonight…that it was in a restroom, just like where those bastards…."
I gave him a stern look, which made him stop his apology, then pulled him close again. "Not the same thing at all, you crazy Reb! You were there to reassure me, to show me I'd be safe…and most important...all you did was give me an opportunity to do something—there was no force at all. For me to get better, I need you to push the boundaries a little. I might get a little scared once in a while, but I know you'd never do anything to hurt me—ever."
Greg raised his hands to either side of my face and stared into my eyes until I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment—the only way he could make a stronger impression was if he were to climb into my skull. I could tell when he found what he sought, because his own cheeks reddened, and his eyes took on a mistiness and sheen that had to mirror my own. "Always and Forever," he whispered, the same words he had spoken in Jay's room not so long ago.
I handed the glass over to him so he could finish it, and kissed his free hand. "Forever—and a day," I said, pulling him to his feet. "I think it's time we got some sleep, don't you?"
Once we were in his attic room, having navigated the squeaky stairs as best we could, I took a moment to survey him in the soft glow of his bedside lamp. Our little interlude in the kitchen was the closest we'd been for most of the night. Whoever invented bucket seats must never have had a romantic thought in his head—you couldn't be amorous in them at all, even with the skills of a Houdini. The most we'd managed were occasional kisses over the center console, which only served to frustrate us both even more. Rollerball was interesting enough to keep our minds occupied, but even so, we'd enjoyed the break to find Bill and chat some more with him and his friend Kevin.
I watched as my Reb stood there, still a little uncertainly it seemed to me, after our talk about what happened at the drive-in earlier. He felt like he'd done something wrong, and I knew it would take more than my words of reassurance to bring back the cockily caring boy I loved. I was quiet by nature, but that wouldn't do right now, so I slipped off my shoes and walked around the foot of his double bed until I was standing right next to him. I just stared at him for a long time—maybe a full minute—and watched as his cheeks reddened and he swallowed awkwardly several times. Under my gaze, he began to calm himself a little, but if anything his blush became deeper.
He would have spoken if I hadn't put a finger to his lips, tracing their outline as I kept his eyes locked with mine. Their pale blue became diffident as I brought my other hand up to comb through his hair to cup his right ear, then trail down his jaw to his neck, coming to rest at the collar of his shirt. There was no deck of cards this time, but I was going to take the 'Watson Option' once more and help my boyfriend find his confidence again.
Undressing him seemed to be getting easier each time, though I was in no hurry to rush this moment between us. I lifted the shirt over his head and let it fall, then ran my fingers down his chest to outline his nipples and the softly-defined ridges of his pectorals and abdominals. Like all red-heads, his skin was pale, and the scattering of freckles on his face were also present on his chest. This time, I did play 'connect the dots' using both fingertips and tongue. I'd seen this before, but there had always been a level of anxiety to distract me—but tonight, that was gone. I could feel the heat of his skin, and little tremors at my ghostly touch…and he drew in a sharp breath when I pulled his belt from his jeans to join his shirt on the floor.
This is where things got hard—no pun intended—so maybe 'dicey' was a better word for it? I forced my fingers to continue their downward trek onto the button of his jeans and the metal teeth of his zipper. I was determined to push my own boundaries tonight, as my Reb had gently encouraged earlier…my trust in him was absolute, otherwise I don't think I could have done this at all. The rasp of the metal seemed loud to me, but then, I wasn't the only one holding my breath—Greg had drawn in several shallow hisses, and I was doing my best to not breathe at all.
I eased the flaps open and paused before pushing the denim down his thighs. Then I stopped. His briefs were full and exuding a warmth which had to be twice that of the rest of him…and I had to swallow once or twice to keep myself focused. This was getting awfully close to what had happened to me before….
No. There was a difference this time—I was in charge now—and this was the boy of my dreams, the man of my heart. I think we both sighed as I pushed the pants down to his knees, letting them pool at his feet. I would do this, come hell or high water—only I couldn't! "Dammit, Reb…you still have your shoes on."
He snickered, and that did wonders to break the tension I was feeling, but not the frustration. I shoved him down on the bed so he fell back cater-cornered across the covers. I could now yank his shoes off without even untying the laces…then I managed to get his pants off to join everything else between his bed and the chairs by the front windows. I was sorely tempted to tickle his feet, and I think he was expecting it because he jerked when I removed his socks…but I didn't. With him lying on his back and me kneeling over him, I didn't feel as vulnerable or threatened as I had last fall…and I wasn't going to stop now, just in case I lost my nerve.
He was lying there in the lamp-light, faintly golden from its glow, and his eyes told me the depth of his love—I'm yours fully and completely. In that moment, staring down at Greg Newton, my Reb, my Love…the urgency vanished and was replaced with an unbounded tenderness. Like the Grinch from the cartoon, my heart had to grow at least three sizes then, otherwise it might have burst. I saw his eyes widen as I removed my own shirt, then my pants to stand there in my own bulging briefs and socks. I could feel my cheeks shift as I smiled down at him, and then pulled off my own socks to join him on his bed, our bodies nearly touching.
I kept that few inches' distance between us so I could run my fingers from his brow, past his lips, down his chest and come to rest at last on the tip of his cock in his underwear. I leaned over and kissed him gently, then eased my hips forward to bring our briefs together. The rubbing I started was soft and sensual, and the fabric between us added just enough friction to heighten the sensations to another level of excitement. I'm not sure how long I kept this up, but it was definitely making me crazy and hard as heck…and the times I'd let my hand drop to adjust our tools, my fingers would come away covered in both our fluids. Our breaths were faster now, and I felt I was close to finishing…and Greg had to be the same way….
If I was going to do this—for my Love and my own sake—it had to be now.
I scooted down on the bed until my face was on a level with his straining briefs…and pulled them down to reveal his 'gun', primed and ready to fire. It glistened in the soft light, and was velvet steel under my fingers. My Reb moaned low in his throat…"You don't…have…."
Whatever else he might have said was lost when my tongue grazed the underside of his shaft, and then swirled around that little triangular spot just below its head. My Reb's body convulsed and went rigid, then I felt him pulse as he fired off his ammunition. I wasn't sure, even now, if I would swallow his load or finish him with my hand…that was a huge step over that final line…then I remembered who I was with, and where we were: this was my Reb, who I trusted and loved implicitly…and this was where I'd be for the rest of my life.
I shut my eyes and closed my lips around the tip of his cock just as his last volley let loose…letting his essence fall onto my tongue. It was nothing like the nasty flavor of those boys in the theater, or of my drunken roommate. I wondered if it would taste different next time, when I got a fuller dose of it? His pre-cum was a little sweeter, or so it seemed from the little sample I'd had previously. I smiled as I licked him clean, thinking a big moonshine still had nothing on the amount my guy's two smaller stills managed to produce in one go. His 'moonshine' was better than the 'Yankee cocktail' I brewed up, at least in my limited experience.
I returned from the little bathroom with a wet rag to clean up his stomach, then stretched out beside him once more, ready to cuddle up with my boyfriend. We fought for a few seconds trying to sort out who would hold whom, then laughed and just fell into each other's arms. We'd only slept the night together once at my house, and briefly here one afternoon, but we settled into what seemed a natural position for us: his left arm around my back, holding me against his chest, and my left arm and leg resting across him. My head was next to his on his pillow, and I gave him a kiss on his cheek before closing my eyes.
"What about you, Yank?" he whispered.
I hadn't come yet, but I didn't care—I'd finally been able to do the one thing for my Reb that he'd done to me more than once during our 'appointments'. I hadn't planned on it when I woke up this morning, but Fate has the means to get her own way when she wants, so who are we to deny her? I had no regrets, and my love for this auburn-haired boy next to me had grown even stronger—and I hadn't thought that could ever happen.
"The General Staff has ordered an exchange of artillery barrages for the morning, so my units are calling it a night…I hope yours will do the same." I felt his chest rumble a little under my hand, and I heard a snicker next to my ear. His free hand moved South to grip the contents of my damp briefs, which were still pretty wide awake.
"I think your Staff could stay awake a while longer, but 'Marse Robert' always said we should listen to our officers…" I felt his lips brush mine, then he settled back onto the pillow. Reveille would come pretty early for tired soldiers.
If you live on a farm, especially a working one, then you know all about routines and the need for chores; animals need feeding, eggs gathered, and stalls cleaned out…every day rain or shine—no exceptions. In winter it was easier since all the field work was done with until Spring planting, but it was damn cold. Summer was pretty similar with a little spare time, and it was possible to go outside half-naked and not freeze your balls off…but you still had to get up to do the milking. Crack of dawn, no matter how you slept the night before.
Okay, there was one exception now that I had a boyfriend, and it made me love my parents even more than I did already. When Mikey stayed over, I could sleep in—far would do my milking, and Linda always did the eggs. Rather than re-set my alarm clock for these visits, I'd shut it off and wake up on my own—often before 8A.M.—and always before Mikey. My elskede was definitely not a morning person, waking up sluggishly and grumpily…but I'd found a way to rouse him pretty effectively…or was that a-rouse him?
Last night during Mechagodzilla we'd had some fun, if you could tell by the white stains on our briefs, so we'd both had a quick rubdown with a wash-rag before falling into bed—the shower could wait until morning. That didn't stop us from cuddling up and exchanging a lot of kisses before we dozed off—I think that would always be my favorite way to go to bed for the rest of my life. Since I would wake up first, I spent that time staring at my boyfriend's rumpled dark-brown hair, and it always made me smile to see those cowlicks he complained about so much. Like him, it took only a couple of tries before I gave up on them myself.
Mikey was happier than he'd been before, but even now, I could detect faint lines of worry in his face…except when he was sleeping. I wanted to lean in and kiss him into consciousness, but held back because I loved seeing him all relaxed and smiling—nothing artificial about it at all—and it would get even wider as he got closer to waking up. Something else was stirring too—the bulge in his briefs was growing even as I watched it through the sheet covering us both. A man has only so much patience, and seeing him get hard had proven to be the limit to mine—I ran a finger over the mound and felt it twitch in response to my feathery caress. I eased the cover back and scooted down to bring my face within licking distance of my prize.
As gently as I could, I pulled his briefs down and took him into my mouth…this would be slow, loving…and the perfect alarm for my kæreste….
After mor made fried eggs and bacon for us—another adventure watching Mikey mash the eggs and yolks together with his fork—far gave a rather broad hint that this might be a good day to start on the vegetable garden. "Since Mikey's here now, you could plant a few rows of whatever he thinks his mom would like…Henry mentioned that they don't really have the time to do their own with their jobs."
This wasn't exactly how I'd planned on spending the day, but then, we couldn't really spend all day in bed—and at least we'd be doing this chore together. The acre back by the orchard had been plowed and disced last fall, so the soil was all set to go, now that it had dried out thanks to a break in the rain. We had plenty of seed packets from Walker's, and some fertilizer, so really all that was needed was a couple of strong backs—mine and Mikey's, of course. I looked at him, and he just grinned.
"You'll have to show me what to do if it's anything more than dropping seed into little holes…I think I can manage that part." I was glad I'd finished my milk, otherwise it would have spewed all over the table. My quick glare at Mikey was met with utmost innocence, but I saw far shake his head, and mor just kept on washing the dishes…after a little snicker.
I had no idea where my sweet kæreste got this wicked sense of humor from…but I'd overlook it since I loved him so much.
Out in the barn, I showed Mikey the assortment of seed packets—everything from lettuce to beans and even some herbs mor used for turning out her great meals. I saw him turn up his nose at the spinach, but he set aside some carrots, green beans, and cantaloupe. He hesitated, looking for something, then turned to me. "I don't see any sweet corn or tomatoes…"
I couldn't resist: "And you won't find any pizza seeds either." I ducked when he swiped at my head with his long arm, only to have his other one wrap around my neck and pull my face to his chest, muffling my cries of protest. I was about to say something about chocolate seeds too, but then I remembered that it came from bushes…so there had to be seeds somewhere—then the freshly-showered scent of his body hit me full force, and I gave in to it with a ragged sniff. My tongue snaked out to lick at his nipple through his shirt, and my hand dropped to cup his seeder in his pants. "I think I should see if your seed is still good…."
I was totally surprised when he unwrapped my fingers from his bulge and drew my face up for a soft kiss. "I'd like that a lot, Jeepers…but far wants us to work on the veggies—not harvest wood. After all the stuff your family's done for me, a little farm work is the least I can do….
"Now, what about tomatoes and corn?" I let out a sigh, but explained that some things had already been planted, but tomatoes were started indoors before being put out in the garden when the weather was warmer—in about another two weeks—and that corn was kept in bulk since it was a major crop, like soybeans and wheat. Potatoes were already sown, as were lettuce and onions, so all we had to really do were the things mor would can for use out of season. I saw him nod; he'd seen his mother put up jars of beans, corn and pickles…even making some ketchup from tomatoes when he was younger. He also mentioned that he'd helped her make apple butter and applesauce too, which was why he loved the fact that we had a real live orchard.
Mikey stared at me when I went toward the far end of the barn, returning with a cultivator—a simple device with two wooden handles attached to a large metal wheel, with a hoe-like attachment at the back. "This is where you earn your keep," I snickered at his expression of bewilderment. "We can't grow anything with the seed you have to supply, so you get to dig the furrows to plant the ones we get from the hardware store."
"You do know I suck with machinery, right?" He eyed the thing with dubious suspicion, as if waiting for it to bite him, or cause some other mischief. I handed him packets of seeds to put in his pockets, then grabbed a small can of sweet corn I'd dipped from a large sack. As a little incentive, I'd tossed in a packet of watermelon seeds too—who didn't like that on a hot Summer day? I nodded my head in the direction of the garden and pushed the cultivator ahead of me, keeping the angled hoe a few inches off the ground.
The garden area was changed from the last time we'd been out here together—when we'd fallen asleep naked after washing the truck, and been surprised by Dave and Trebor showing up for dinner. Then, only a few things had been sown, carrots, lettuce, peas…each row marked with a small stake with the appropriate seed packet stapled to it. Now, tall rows of wire sprouted here and there to support the beans, and wooden stakes five feet tall marched in rows to mark the places where tomato plants would be tied as they grew. I pointed to an empty section of bare earth and moved Mikey so he stood holding the handles of the cultivator. "Fix your eyes on the edge of the garden, then walk straight ahead, pushing the hoe down so it digs a little trench in the dirt. I'll follow behind and plant the seeds….piece of cake!"
"I dunno…what happens when I get to the end?"
I let my hand graze his end for a second, and gave it a little swat. "Then, you turn around and come back, only three feet to the side of the row you just dug. I've got the hard part, making sure I don't mix up the seeds mid-row or putting too many in one spot." I watched as my boyfriend took a few tentative steps toward the far end of the garden, pushing the simple device gingerly. Even though the dirt was about perfect, the furrow he was making hardly scratched the surface.
"No, no no…it needs to be deeper—push down more and keep the pressure constant…" I watched as Mikey did as I asked, and before he could think about getting upset at my nagging, I put my arms around his shoulders and gave his neck a sloppy kiss. He started to growl and wipe the excess slobber off, then he laughed. "You're doing really good, elskede…we'll make a horse out of you yet."
As we paced out the rows, Mikey sweating more than me since he had the harder job…that horse remark I'd made kept running through my head. Mikey was big where it counted most, and I might have been jealous—only my main worry was that he might be too big for me to take when we finally made love. That turned my thoughts to Uncle Mikkel's package…we hadn't had time to experiment with the K-Y or dildoes it contained, but I knew we'd have to do that before too long—especially me. The idea of Mikey putting his dick inside me was a little scary, but I wanted it to happen when we were ready. I just hoped my kæreste would enjoy it….
By lunch time, we were both wet with perspiration and shirtless…and getting nicely red from the sun on our backs. We would finish this part of the garden after we chowed down on mor's roast beef sandwiches, and then we could 'do homework' up in my room for a few hours. The amazing thing was, we'd really do it, then spend the rest of the evening getting 'cozy'. Up in the bathroom, cleaning up a little before we ate, I brought up the subject of Mikkel's 'toys'. "Do you wanna try out some of the stuff my uncle sent? Your parents are letting you stay over again…."
My skin tingled as Mikey ran the wash-cloth over my chest, then under my arms. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses, and his cheeks flushed a little at my words. He knew I hadn't tried them by myself, so this would be a whole new ball game for both of us. I could see that he was nervous about it, but that vied with the new-found sense of adventure he'd found with me since we began talking in class at the start of the year. That had grown a lot in the month we'd been venner, but it was still a fragile thing. I could barely hear his reply. "You wanna…try 'em on each other…or take turns?"
I pulled him into my arms and nuzzled his neck—we were a good fit this way with my face only needing a little dip to rest on his shoulder. I guess being short did have some advantages after all. "However you want, Mikey…but I'd really like to have you try one on me…."
He tilted my head up so we were staring into one another's eyes, and I felt like I was looking into a deep forest glade, all greenish-brown with tiny flecks from his glasses simulating sunny sparkles…or maybe they really were present in those fascinating eyes. The gods alone knew how much they could calm me and make me feel safe and warm at the same time. Despite his doubts about my 'Plan' to go first when we had 'anal intercourse' as Mikkel called it, he knew I could be persistent. "Up to this point, Jeepers, we've only used one finger on each other…don't you think we should wait a little longer?"
I was drying his chest now that I'd run the wet rag over it, and gave his nipples a tweak, then I kissed them to make it 'all better'. "Min søde dreng, I'll never love you more than I do at this moment…or trust you so much—you mean everything to me, and I want to do this for you with all my heart."
"But your uncle's letter said it will hurt…."
I led him by the hand to my bedroom, where we grabbed clean shirts for lunch. As we dressed each other, I kissed his lips as soon as his head appeared through the neck-hole of his tee-shirt. I had a little advantage now since he'd had to take off his glasses, but I wasn't going to claim it, except to also kiss his eyelids. "It might hurt, and I know you'll do everything you can to make it good for me—for us."
We'd talked about this more than once, since Mikey figured out my final step was to build him up…and though it had gotten pretty heated, it never led to becoming angry at each other. I remember far telling me more than once that he'd never won an argument with mor, and he'd confessed it was because of her eyes…and since mine were just like hers….Let's just say, if there was something I really wanted, Mikey let me have it—most of the time. "Did I ever tell you you're a dick," he whispered with a grin.
"That's why you love me…and I love you, doofus."
Before we went back outside to do more planting, we left our shirts on the glider on the back porch…and we put some aloe on this time to prevent getting an even worse case of sunburn. That caused us to snicker a lot since he now knew about my using it to jack-off when Jerry first taught me…but it was fun applying it anyway for its normal purpose as a sunscreen. We had the real thing, but since most of them smelled like coconut, Mikey refused to go near them.
As we worked, I explained to him that we were planting some crops again so that we'd have them longer during the year—extending the harvest season into late fall. "We plant some pumpkins every year too…so we'll be able to carve our own jack-o-lanterns…." We exchanged glances when I said that, and burst out laughing, almost simultaneously exclaiming:
"You didn't tell me you were gonna kill it!" Poor Linus.
Just an hour later, we were putting the cultivator back in the barn after hosing the dirt off it, and putting the extra seeds back in the storage cabinet. It had been a good day's work, and we just had time for a quick shower before dinner. It had been tough persuading Mikey's parents to let him stay over since it was Sunday, but it helped that they knew I'd be over to pick him up whether he was home anyway…and our grades had shown that we really did study like we said we would.
I looked on it as a small victory, especially since Linda was over at Bobby Thomas's house having dinner. I was really happy for her, even though I wondered how strong their relationship would be now since the Zane Affair…at least they were going to the Prom together week after next. We were at the kitchen table relaxing and getting ourselves ready for a dessert of ice cream when the phone rang. I had helped Mikey put the dishes in the sink and run the water, and was giving him a resounding kiss on the cheek when far held the black receiver out to me.
"Who is it," I asked, and he shook it at me like I was an idiot. "Right…answer it and I'll find out…." Why couldn't I have normal parents? Mikey giggled as I got up, noting the bulge in my jeans—we'd both been anticipating our little adventure later, so I didn't get why he thought this was so funny. As I listened to my 'mystery caller', I found myself losing my enthusiasm pretty quickly, and my boyfriend saw that too, and he began to frown. I sighed, and nodded, saying 'okay' into the phone, then hung up.
"Who was it?" he asked, curiosity tinged with worry. His eyes widened when I turned to my parents before answering his question.
"That was Greg…do you think we have space for one more person in our Study Group?
"His name's Kevin…."
"Shit," my boyfriend gasped into the silence.
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