In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contributions, using the link https://donate.nifty.org/. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
AFTER THE RAIN
by Marin Giustinian
Norway, 2017
Prologue
Time is a funny thing. It speeds up, slows down, stops, vanishes, drags along, and is totally independant from clocks, schedules, and other attempts to tame it... This story is about a life falling into a concentration of time, full of self discovery, meaning, love, and clear future, and all that in a foreign land, in a tiny village, etc. This happened to Bradley Gallagher, 19, from Dublin, Ireland, and here is his story.
Brad was a 'sweet' guy. He was not what you could call a strikingly handsome young man, but his soft blue eyes, sometimes looking a bit sad, and his winning smile gave him a definite charm. We find Brad after his return from Maine where he had spent a year studying wooden boat building. Before looking for work, he decided to go on holidays by himself in Norway having always been interested in Norse boats inspired by the Viking ships of old and longed to see them for real.
There! Now the story.
On a late June morning of 2017, Brad boarded his flight to Bergen, spent the night in a youth hostel, quickly visited the heart of the city the next morning, and continued by direct bus to Gudvangen. He wanted to see the Viking Village (Njardarheimr), a tourist attraction portraying a Viking settlement as it was in the seventh century. At 5:30 PM, the bus left him in front of the tourist office, under a dark cloudy sky. He inquired about a place to pitch his tent.
The lady at the desk told him that both campgrounds were full but he could camp for free in a village only three miles from there: Bakka.
"There's no shower nor WiFi, only a tap of fresh water on the dock, but it's more of what young fellows like you are looking for."
"Is there a bus?"
"No bus... you have to hitchhike or walk."
As he was trodding along the narrow road to Bakka, rucksack on his back, it began to drizzle. A few minutes later the wind kicked in. A slanted squall began to dampen Brad's face. That was when an old, faded red 1991 Opel Corsa pulled up alongside. Sven Hansson, twenty, leaned over, cranked down the window, and shouted, "Bakka?"
"Yes, please!"
"Toss your sack in the back and get in."
"I'll get your car wet..."
"No problem. Hurry up!"
Once Brad was buckled up, Sven inquired, "English? American?"
"Irish, Brad Gallagher, from Dublin," replied Brad, as he wiped the rain off his face with his sleeve.
"Sven Hannson, from here. Pleased to meet you."
"You saved me!" declared Brad, joking.
Sven didn't react and just inquired, "On holidays?"
"More or less... I've just finished a wooden boat building course in America, in Maine, to be exact. Viking boats fascinate me and I wanted to come over to see if I could find some replicas..."
Sven was driving slowly. The tired windscreen wipers were doing their best but visibility was low. He smiled, glanced at Brad, and said, "You're lucky that I picked you up, but more than that, I also build faerings, traditional Viking rowboats for a living. I learned the craft at the Fosen Folk School, up near Trondheim."
"Wow! Really! I AM lucky... except for the rain. I'm camping and I'm afraid I'll end up totally drenched..."
Sven didn't react. Sheets of rain were now splashing down on the road.
After a minute or two, Brad inquired, "Is this weather going to last?"
"Yes, the forecast says it's going to be like this until 2:00 AM... but tomorrow's going to be warm -- well, warm on Norwegian standards -- and sunny," replied Sven, still focusing all his attention on the road.
Brad began to give up hope. He was dead tired after the trip. All was now catching up with him: the delayed flight, then a night in a smelly bunk room of the Bergen youth hostel, followed by a morning walk around Bergen, and to finish, the bus trip to Gudvangen. He was dreading having to pitch his tiny tent in the downpour as he stared at the rain pouring down through the car window.
Sven pulled to a stop in front of a big white Norwegian farmhouse. He simply said, "Grab your sack and follow me," and jumped out of the car.
Brad did as told, wondering what was going on. Brad followed Sven through the door into a vestibule, then a hallway with polished wood floors, pine panelling, and copper light fixtures. Everything was so clean it seemed to glow. The first impression was warmth. As Brad was on the verge of asking Sven about what was going on, a smiling lady came out of a side door and exclaimed something in Norwegian. Pointing at Brad, Sven replied, then turned to say, "I've just told my mother that you were our guest and that you're sleeping with me tonight."
"What? You're putting me up, just like that?"
"I can't let you camp out in the rain."
Mrs. Hansson asked something again. Sven nodded and turned to Brad.
"We're having lamb stew for dinner. Is that fine with you?"
"That's more than fine, Sven! How do you say 'Thank You' in Norwegian?"
"Takk"
Bowing in the direction of Sven's mother, Brad said, "Takk", with his warmest smile.
Mrs. Hansson simply nodded, smiled, and disappeared.
"Follow me. My room's upstairs," said Sven.
Entering the room, Sven said, "Put your sack down over there. You need a shower. My bathroom's behind that door. There are fresh towels under the sink. You can use my soap and shampoo. In the top drawer, there are new razors and shaving foam," explained Sven, making it clear that Brad really needed to freshened up.
As Sven was speaking, Brad was able to take a look at his new friend in the light. He was absolutely gorgeous! His long dark hair was highlighted by a few streaks of blond. His warm brown eyes and plump lips slightly smiled as he spoke. At one point, Brad even wondered if he was dreaming.
"Thanks, Sven! Takk!"
"Don't take too long, Brad. Dinner's in twenty minutes."
Brad came out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel around his loins, and asked, "Do I pass inspection?"
Sven looked at Brad from head to toe and then declared, "You are a very good looking fellow, Brad. I'll be proud to introduce you to my family. Choose your clothes and get dressed. Are you hungry?"
"I'm famished!" laughed Brad.
"That's good. You'll see, my mother's cooking is absolutely delicious."
"Where did you learn such good English?" inquired Brad as he pulled fresh clothes out of his rucksack.
"In England where I spent my last secondary school year as an exchange student."
"How old are you?" continued Brad as he dressed.
"Twenty, and you?"
"Nineteen."
As they continued their small talk, Sven kept on gazing at Brad. His benevolent eyes made Brad feel recognised and accepted. It was a good feeling.
The dinner bell rang.
"Am I suitable?" asked Brad.
"Of course. Don't worry. Let's go!"
Sven and Brad were the last to arrive in the dining room. Emma, Sven's mother and Ingrid, his brother's wife were putting the food on the table when they walked in.
Sitting at the head of the table, Jurgen Hansson, the father, indicated Brad's seat on his right saying, "Velkommen unge mann, bli sittende."
"Takk," replied Brad as he sat, understanding that he was welcomed.
Brad's seat faced Lars, Sven's older brother. Sven sat beside Brad, facing Lars's young wife, Ingrid. Emma, Sven's mother sat at the other end of the table, smiling.
Jurgen said the blessing and then turned to Sven and stated, "Du oversetter..." (You translate.)
Jurgen's little speech was simple. Sven translated, "My first son Lars and I do farming. Little Sven, my second son, builds faerings. What do you do?"
Brad explained that he was from Dublin, Ireland, and that he too had studied boatbuilding. He mentioned his parents, both working, his indecision about his future... He finished by saying he came to Norway on holidays because he had always admired Viking boats, and he was thankful that Sven not only saved him from being left out in the rain, but also that he was a boatbuilder himself.
Everybody at the table listened, nodding and smiling as they ate.
Jurgen replied something that made the others laugh. Sven blushed a little as he translated.
"My father says that we were meant to meet and become friends and that you are welcome to stay in our house as long as I... as long as I don't tell you to get out."
Brad jokingly turned towards Sven, and with joined hands prayed, "May I stay?"
"Of course!" laughed Sven.
Everyone clapped.
The stew was delicious, so was the dessert. Lars and Jurgen lingered in the dining room apparently talking farm affairs. The women cleared the table. Brad and Sven retired to the parlour where a small fire was ablaze in the tall ceramic stove.
Seeing a polished upright piano, Brad asked, "May I try? I'd love to hear how it sounds."
Music and dreams of the sea had been Brad's only consolation as he grew up. Being a lonely, only child, with rather cold, distant parents, he had found affection with his piano teacher and by the age of fifteen had become an accomplished musician -- and an excellent sea cadet as well.
Sven replied, "No one has played this piano since my grandmother died just after Christmas. The piano was hers and she was the only one in the house who knew how to play it. She played the organ in the church too."
Brad sat, warmed up his fingers and played a few scales. It was still in tune. Then he took a deep breath and began to play 'Morning' from Peer Gynt by the Norwegian composer, Edvard Grieg. Sven, standing by the piano, was awestruck as the flow of notes filled the parlour. Outside a hard rain was beating against the windowpanes. The fire in the stove was glowing. There was a moment of grace as the melody filled the house. Drawn by the music, the others quietly entered the parlour. Emma was carrying a tray with a bottle of aquavit and six tiny glasses which she placed on the little table in front of the sofa. Brad was so absorbed in his music that he didn't realise the others had gathered behind him.
When the last chord vanished into silence, Brad was surprised by a burst of applause behind him. He twisted around on the bench, looking a bit sheepish, and bowed his head. Jurgen grabbed him in an awkward but earnest hug, patting him on the shoulder. Emma asked Sven to tell Brad to please play something else. Brad smiled and turned back to the keyboard. He began the spirited Polonaise by Chopin. Waves of music covered the gusts of wind and the distant thunder. With the brilliant finale ending the music, the five others shouted, "Bravo!" Brad stood, beaming. Sven hugged him. Jurgen stated, "Du er en Guds gave!"
Sven whispered, "He says you are a gift of God!"
Brad blushed and replied, "Takk."
Ingrid had filled the tiny liqueur glasses with aquavit and passed the tray around. Jurgen lifted his, saying, "Brad! Skol!"
Following Sven, Brad lifted his glass as well, and everybody drank!
In spite of the difficulty of conversation, the evening was joyful. A little while later, one after the other, the family left Sven and Brad alone.
"Ready to go up and get in bed?" asked Sven.
"Let's go."
Back in the room, Sven said he'd take a quick shower and disappeared in the bathroom. Brad went to the window. In Norway, June days linger until nearly 11:00 PM. That evening, with the rain clouds, dusk was dim. He was nervous about sleeping in the same bed with his handsome, young host. Sven was terribly gorgeous, and Brad was attracted, and...
"You're still dressed, not yet in bed?" exclaimed Sven standing in the bathroom door, stark naked.
"I was waiting for you to finish before going to the toilet..." lied Brad.
"Go do what you have to do and then come to bed. I want to cuddle with you..."
"Uhh... Cuddle, yes cuddle..." stuttered Brad, confused.
"Hurry up."
When Brad came back, Sven stated, "I sleep naked. And you?"
"Uhh, naked... yes... me too..." lied Brad once more as he shed his undies and crawled in beside Sven.
Sven pulled Brad up close to him, saying, "It's nice to have a bedfellow. Before Lars was married, we slept together and cuddled all the time. I'd suck his cock. I love to suck cocks. Now, I guess Ingrid sucks his..."
Brad shivered a bit.
"May I suck your cock, Brad?" inquired Sven with amazing ease.
Brad nodded, unable to utter a word.
And not a word was spoken, not a gesture hastened. Sven tossed back the covers, took Brad's achingly hard penis in hand, and slid down. He began by licking the tip, then sucking on the glans. His tongue was driving Brad crazy as he discovered such blatant, direct, pleasure. Brad's heart pounded in his chest. Now Sven was sucking deeper as he kneaded Brad's buttocks. Brad moaned, licking his lips. He too needed a cock in his mouth.
In a blink, Brad spun around and swallowed Sven's splendid uncut cock. It was dribbling crystal clear precum and was a pure delight to suck. Sven was a bit surprised. He laughed, caressing Brad's hair and continued sucking deeper and deeper. His throat opened in an instant. Never gagging, Sven hummed, drooling, as Brad's cock began to dance in his mouth. Brad's stray hand caressed the silken skin of Sven's inner thigh, fondling his balls, bobbing his head.
Both simply let happen what had to happen. Brad had never felt the energy of such surging lust. His pits emitted that certain scent of love in the making. Sven discovered the delights of loving while being loved. He perspired as Brad ignited him. Then all restraint was released. They sucked each other with a frantic crave to merge, to explode and to melt at the same time. They tussled and revelled, sucking and swallowing, sweating with impatience to drink each other's semen. Sven's taste drove Brad mad. He needed to swallow all Sven could give. He grunted, clawing Sven's buttocks. Sven never gagged as he coaxed Brad's curved cock into his throat. Sven exploded. Brad swallowed, spewing his own cum, bucking, grunting, clinging onto Sven. Seized in a single orgasmic explosion they gasped, drooling, catching their breath. Brad, his mouth dripping with Sven's semen, uttered, "Good God..." Lithe as a sprite, Sven flipped around, grabbed Brad's head, and kissed him, then he hopped out of bed and opened the window. A rush of fresh air filled the love scented room.
Enlaced, Sven and Brad slipped into oblivion as the rain continued to fall.
Morning was breaking. Brad slowly opened his eyes. As he woke, words of a long forgotten poem dawned in his mind.
"I am here ... or there ... or elsewhere, in this morning of my beginning." He smiled and propped himself on his elbow contemplating the unbelievable beauty of his bedfellow. Love makes the eye see more. With hesitant tenderness, Brad leaned over Sven's face, his lips drawing closer to Sven's with each shallow breath. Suddenly Sven grabbed Brad's head and pulled him into the most passionate kiss imaginable, nibbling his lips, darting his tongue! They rolled to and fro, clinging to each other, laughing, licking, tickling, both unaware of approaching the edge of the bed. That's when they crashed on the floor, still enlaced. Scrambling to their feet, they dashed to the bathroom and stood shoulder to shoulder, still giggling as they pissed, making the toilet bowl ring.
"Brad, we're going to take a skinny dip in the fjord and then shower before family breakfast!" stated Sven, grabbing Brad's hand.
Stark naked and very much alive, they rushed down the stairs and ran, cocks and balls swinging free. They leapt directly into the icy water.
The shock was brutal for Brad. He flailed, then swam like a fury trying to catch up with Sven already yards ahead. When Brad caught up, they raced back to shore and clambered on all fours up the stone wall to the lawn.
Shivering, Sven pulled Brad to his side, exclaiming, "This is the most splendid morning of my life! Look! The fjord has never been so beautiful! You are beautiful! Life is beautiful!"
The night of pouring rain had cleansed the air. The snow capped summits of the surrounding mountains, soaring in the morning sky, danced, mirrored in the shimmering waters. Brad, crimson red, trembling in the rising sun, felt a sudden wave of heat swell within his body.
"Sven, this is all too wonderful! You are wonderful, beautiful and wonderful and...and all! I could stay here all my life with you!"
"Then do it!" laughed Sven.
They darted back up to the house and jumped in the shower together. Under the flow of steamy warm water, their balls fell back into place. They rubbed and scrubbed each other with gel suds, jacking each other's now very eager erection. Then gasping, their sweet semen shot like strikes of wet lightning on each other. Stepping out of the shower on wobbly legs, they towelled off and dressed, then hurried down into the dining room where their two breakfasts waited on the table. The others had finished eating and were gone.
Emma 'scolded' them for their late arrival and commented the fact that they both looked wonderful.
"What's your programme, Sven? I don't want to take too much of your time."
"Don't be silly! You see where I live. Having a friend here is a blessing. I'm my own boss... so my time is up to me! By the way, do you want to see my workshop?"
"I was going to ask you to show me."
"I'll show you my latest work in progress, and then we can go rowing a few kilometres from here where there's a waterfall with a grassy glade by its stream. It's my 'happy place'."
"Sounds great..."
"We can enjoy the sun. You need sun. You're too pale!"
"Living in Dublin, there aren't many ways to get a decent tan! Ha!"
"If you want, this afternoon, we can drive to Gudvangen. You can visit the Viking Village while I get some shopping done in Aurland. Okay?"
"Okay!"
The scent of cedar and spruce shavings greeted Brad when Sven opened the door. A half-finished faering filled the middle of the tidy, well equipped workshop. Brad examined it from an expert point of view.
"There's no frame!" he exclaimed.
"No, it's all clinker built. I curve the strakes and fix them together by overlapping. These boats have been built that way for nearly two thousand years. Take a look around!"
(A faering is a skiff, more or less fifteen to twenty feet long, pointed at both ends, with no transom. The strakes, which are often cedar, pine, spruce, or larch, are attached to a backbone keel with a curved stem and stern.)
Brad touched the wood, admiring the work, and nodded his admiration.
"Excellent, Sven! I like it a lot. I think I could handle that type of construction."
"If you have the eye, it's fun. If you don't have the eye, it can be horrible. You need the feeling, the sense of elegance to create a faering. Some of my mates at the folk-school wanted a computerised plan, with the needed formulas, and were lost when the teacher told them to use their eye and get the feel of what they wanted."
"Awesome..." uttered Brad.
"Would you like for us to work on the boat together, here tomorrow?"
"Yes, very much!"
"Great! Now let's spend the morning on the water. My own faering -- Freyr -- is in the boathouse next door."
"Freyr?"
"Freyr is the pagan god of fertility and sex. He's always depicted with a gigantic hard-on."
"And you named your boat after him..."
"You'll understand when you see the bow stem!"
Indeed, Sven had carved the bow stem into a perfect cock with the foreskin pulled back, exposing a luscious looking glans.
"You see! That's Freyr... Brad, you sit in the stern."
Sven put an extra pair of oars in the boat and pushed off. He then took place on the forward bench, facing Brad. With just three or four vigorous stokes they were swiftly underway. They smiled at each other as the faering silently glided through the water. Brad asked if he could give it a try.
They had fun changing places, being careful to not capsize. Brad took the oars in hand and pulled with all his might. The faering lurched forward a bit faster with each stroke. Sven laughed, exclaiming, "Take it easy! No hurry!"
"It's fun!" replied Brad, exulting as sweat pearled on his forehead.
Brad was a very physical young man. His muscular body needed exertion. He needed to feel his heart pound in his chest, feel the rippling sensation of all his muscles working in harmony, accomplishing speed or force. He was in heaven making the faering fly.
"You're skilful with the oars, Brad! Let's row together."
Sven placed the second pair of oars and turned, sitting on the bench in front of Brad's.
"Are you ready, Brad?"
"Yes I am! One, two, three, Go!"
Like one man with four arms, together they made Freyr split the water. With each stroke, white bow waves curled as they sped. Their motion together was perfect. Their bodies were connected. They breathed the same air at the same time, deeply inhaling, exhaling together.
Now they were really far from the shore. Resting, they let Freyr drift.
"Look! My 'happy place' is just over there. You see the white waterfall on the mountain slope" exclaimed Sven, pointing.
"Let's go!" declared Brad, eager to row even more with Sven.
In just a short time, they beached Freyr. Catching their breath, they pulled off their shirts and jumped ashore.
Sven's 'happy place' was a miniature paradise. The distant rumble of the waterfall echoed in the vale. Its stream flowed into the fjord through a small glade covered with lavish green grass scattered with tiny wildflowers.
Sven immediately stripped. Splendidly nude, like a pagan god, he stood facing the sun. Brad too had pulled off his shorts, his generous cock, stiff as a spearhead.
"How do you feel, Brad?"
"Great! Really good!" he replied looking into Sven's eyes, smiling.
Their cocks collided as they hugged, then kissed, collapsing together in the tender grass. They laid there on their backs, side by side, listening to the gurgling stream and the ripples gently splashing on the pebbled beach. They talked gazing at the sky.
"Brad?"
"Yes..."
"How do you feel about what we did last night?"
Brad thought an instant and then replied, "Great! It was new for me, and it came so naturally. I didn't know I was gay. Now I know, thanks to you."
"And how do you feel about being gay?"
"I love being myself with you!" replied Brad.
"Do you want us to go on being gay together?"
"YES!" exclaimed Brad, nearly shouting.
"Maybe we can try new things..."
"Like?"
"Have you ever fucked a girl?"
"Yes... once."
"Was it fun?"
"Not that much..." whispered Brad.
"I imagine... Listen, Brad, I sculpted a wooden cock that I put in my arse. I cover it with vaseline and slip it inside dreaming that it's alive -- but it's just wood. I fuck myself with it until I shoot off, but it never shoots in me."
Brad was surprised by Sven's honest openness. He remained wordless.
Sven spoke even softer, saying, "Tonight, I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me with all your force and shoot your luscious cum deep inside me. Will you do that?"
Brad blushed, then swallowed, and whispered, "Yes... I'll do that for you," then he addad, "I play with my arse too -- stick my finger in it and wiggle it while I wank."
Brad surprised himself admitting something that intimate.
"If you want, we can fuck each other, taking turns."
"Yes, taking turns," nervously echoed Brad.
Sven giggled. They hugged. Sven jumped to his feet and said, "When I'm here and the weather's good, I wank and shoot my cum in the stream as an offering to the spirits of nature. We can wank each other and make an offering together, if you want."
"An offering?"
"Yes, an offering! It's giving a wonderful part of ourselves to something, or to someone we love.
"Okay!" replied Brad.
Stroking Brad's erection, Sven said, "Your cock feels like mine in hand."
"So does yours... our cocks are twins!" laughed Brad, stroking, "Is your wooden cock like mine?"
"Identical!"
"So for you, it won't hurt when I fuck you."
"No"
"Before you fuck me, can you loosen me up some?"
"I'll do my best."
They resumed jacking until their offerings shot together, falling and swirling in the still water on the edge of the stream. Their mixed semen slowly flowed into the current and disappeared. Brad and Sven kissed, calmly dressed, and returned to Freyr.
Rowing back to Bakka, they took their time. The perspective of making love like that, all the way, was like sunshine glowing inside. They were young and tingling with life, already falling in love.
For some, love needs time to emerge. For others, love can happen like a strike of lightning. Love obeys no rules. It can't be trapped nor planned. You can't find love unless love finds you first -- and sometimes it takes time. Love happens when it can and that's it.
"You know, Brad, there's more going on between us than just sex."
"I don't know how to say it... I feel that there's you, then there's me, and then there's US. We don't need to talk much in order to understand a lot. Sex is lovely. I love loving you! And sex is really more important than I imagined, and yet without simply being happy doing things together, maybe building things together, sex isn't enough to be... to be..."
"To be what?"
"To be Love!"
"I love you already, Brad! And I know you love me."
"You're right. I love you already too, Sven. I don't understand what's going on inside of me. All I know is that it's wonderful -- and that it's right."
For Brad, the afternoon visit to the Viking Village wasn't really that exciting. Too many tourists wandering in a fake setting with people disguised as fake Vikings. However, he did enjoy taking a long look at a replica of a drakkar, a Viking longboat, onshore and another tied up at the dock.
While Sven was off to Aurland, shopping for hardware, Brad took a moment to ponder on what was going on in his life at that very moment. He felt that his life had radically changed after the rain. Ireland was far away -- in another world. He realised that he never thought of his parents and smiled when he supposed that they never thought of him either.
His parents were a compact, ambitious, almost ruthless couple of business executives, totally involved in advertising. He was an accident in his parents' youth, when they didn't have money enough to pay for an abortion in a country where abortion was a crime. He realised that he had never really been in a happy family. And now he was overflowing with happiness! He smiled, walked down to the edge of the water and admired with tears in his eyes, the beauty of the world, of love, and of being alive. He uttered to himself, "Now I know why I was born."
Sven found Brad sunning on a bench by the road. He pulled over. Brad jumped in. Several minutes further Brad said, "That's where you picked me up yesterday. Wow! A lot has happened since then, Sven!"
"You're right! A lot has happened and there's more on the way!" stated Sven, winking at Brad.
They unloaded Sven's purchases and put them in the workshop. Brad took a closer look at the tools and appreciated how well they were kept, all perfectly sharp and clean.
"Tomorrow, we'll shape that plank over there into a strake and fix it along the starboard side."
"Shape it by eye?"
"Exactly. We have to 'see' it, imagine it where it should be and then carve it until it's like what we see..."
"I'll let you do that. I can sweep the shavings and watch."
"No, I want you to do it with me. The eye needs hands. When I carved my wooden cock, I shaped it with my eye along with the feeling of my own cock in hand when I wank!"
"Okay, I understand..."
Emma called the boys into the kitchen as they entered. She said she was going to do a wash the next day and told them to put their dirty clothes in the laundry room.
They showered and dressed for the evening. Sven took their laundry down and hurried back up. Both spent a moment on the internet, Brad with his iPhone, Sven on his computer.
Brad had no new e-mail. Sven answered two new inquiries about his custom-made faerings. He had a lot of business to handle...
They dashed down for dinner.
Sven briefly told the family about their day together.
After dinner, Brad played some of the sheet music still in the piano bench and accompanied a family singalong.
With two shots of aquavit each the were relaxed but not drunk, they went up to bed. Sven put the tube of vaseline on the night table and pulled the curtains. They stripped and snuggled in together.
Sven whispered, "Brad, take your time. I've waited all my life for you to come and make love to me. I'm not in a hurry. Just one thing: I want to see you while you fuck me. I'll lay on my back and pull my legs up to give you free access to my hole."
Brad nodded and moved down towards the foot of the bed and knelt between Sven's legs, his cock dripping in anticipation. He gazed at Sven like a child gazes into the fire. He caressed Sven's cheek, then his chest, feeling a bit awkward. Sven reached up and took Brad's head in his hands and pulled him into a very loving kiss. Then he uttered, "Just do what you feel, just do what your heart and cock need, and it will be wonderful for us both!"
Brad nodded. He started covering Sven with kisses, nibbling on his tits, licking his pits and the precum oozing out of the slit of his cock. He rubbed the moist cleft between Sven's buttocks with the tip of his cock. He then licked the bulb under Sven's balls. He licked and fingered the winking hole, coaxing it to open on its own prodding it with the tip of his tongue as deep as he could.
Sven writhed, moaned, and whimpered as waves of bliss ran through his flesh. He sprawled his legs in the air and grasped his own buttocks. Pulling them apart he gave Brad full access. Brad inserted one, then two fingers and massaged the slick inside of Sven's hole, his cock now drooling a continuous thread of precum. His breathing was irregular, his heart, racing. He slicked his glans with vaseline, then the shaft. Trembing a bit, he positioned the tip in place, ready to push. He looked into Sven's begging eyes. When he leaned forward to put Sven's feet on his shoulders, his glans popped in making him gasp.
"Go for it, Brad!" whispered Sven, beaming.
Brad pushed and froze, his cock throbbed on the verge of shooting. Neither moved. Sven's anal muscles quivered, welcoming Brad's presence. When threat of a premature climax passed, Brad began to move a bit inside Sven. He delicately stirred Sven's innards, pushing to feed Sven a little more of his cock. Sven's anus clenched Brad's cock, squeezing and releasing it, driving him mad. At that point, Brad lost all control. His pits dripped with sweat, his muscles tensed. Wild-eyed, he began to undulate, fucking, his cock embedded to the pubis inside Sven. There were no violent thrusts. He moved like the swell of the tide, coming and going, rising with each wave. As he made deep, long love to Sven, he kissed, their mouths slick with saliva, their tongues dancing together. Sven's rump met Brad's every move. Arse and cock melding in an intense saraband as they writhed in unison. Sven clawed Brad's arse, his shoulders, his waist, losing himself in the copulating embrace until Sven ejaculated! Their orgasms collided. The scent of fresh semen filled the air. Brad stifled a scream rising from the depths of his soul as he profusely spewed a seemingly endless surge of cum, over and over, deep inside Sven. Gasping, Brad collapsed on Sven and began to weep, giggling at the same time.
"Good God, Sven, good God!" he uttered as they held each other rocking back and forth, laughing like mad -- laughing a laugh of pure joy.
Outside, silent shooting stars streaked in the spangled sky.
Brad whispered, "Sven, I'm totally empty! Tomorrow, I want you to fuck me in the 'happy place'. I want you to fuck me there, outdoors, under the sun."
"I promise to fuck you there under the sun, my wonderful Brad. I hope I'll fuck you as well as you fucked me! Sweet dreams!"
The next morning at breakfast, Sven told his mother that he and Brad were taking some bread, cheese, and apples to go picnicking for lunch. Then they went down and began working on the faering.
Brad had THE 'eye'. With Sven, the strake fell in place perfectly. As they stood there admiring their work, Sven said, "You have to stay here. We could become partners and make twice as many boats as I do now. We could even create a little fleet to rent by the hour during the summer. I swear, we could make a good living that way."
"Let me think about it..."
"What for? You're free, you've got a European passport. You can live and work in Norway as much as you want... What draws you back to Ireland? Tell me!"
Without the slightest hesitation, he replied, "In fact, nothing... but..."
"But what? You just decide to stay and that's it! That way we'll keep our love alive together. Do you want to kill our love by leaving? I'm ready to take care of our love. I'm willing to take the risk... Do you have the balls to make up your mind now or not?"
Brad paced up and down in the workshop, like a wolf in a cage. Then he broke out laughing and shouted, "Dammit, Sven! You've been here with your family for all your life! You're at home here, secure and loved. I'm barely realising where I am. This is just my third day! For you, all is clear! For me, well for me..." Brad stalled, shrugged, and then laughed, saying, "Of course I'm staying! But you'll have to handle the paper work."
"I'll take care of the paper work!... Brad, I'm sorry to have pushed you. I didn't have the 'eye' to see you as discovering everything. Please forgive me?"
"I don't have to forgive you for being who you are! You live in your reality. I'm going to live in it too. It's just that I need a few seconds every now and then to wrap my mind around it all."
"I'll remember that. Let's go to our 'happy place' so I can keep my promise!"
"Yesss!"
Things happened like in a movie, the kind of scene in slow motion where the colours are a bit blurred and the music is soft. Sven was a delicate lover. He spent a long time opening Brad, rimming and fingering him. When he felt that Brad was ready, Sven penetrated him ever so softly.
The song of the birds circling overhead, blended with the murmur of the stream. Brad was humming his bliss with Sven moving inside him as they kissed. He was feeling things he never imagined possible. Pure love was sliding inside him, throbbing, churning him. He was lost, soaring somewhere out of time. Sven caressed him, kissed him, tears of bliss fell from his eyes as his graceful body surfed on a swelling orgasm. Brad shot off and Sven fucked on and on. Minutes later, he began to quake, whimper, and thrust. Lost in a swelling, overwhelming orgasm, he spewed, panting, grunting, gasping! Then falling into Brad's open arms, he simply wept with joy.
Sven's softening cock slipped out as he murmured, "Brad, I saw stars in your eyes, under a summer, noontime sky, I saw stars exploding! I was floating, floating in you... You are the first person to whom I've given my semen. I'm in you and in you I found myself. Good God! It's so wonderful! I don't know what I like better, having you in me or me in you."
"Why choose? Both make the same love between us."
"Yeah... why choose! I love you, Brad, more than words can say."
"Your cock and your heart said it all, Sven. I love you too. I loved you fucking me. It was mind-blasting. We've found each other at last. It happened so fast and yet it's so real, so strong, so true,"
They laid there in peace for a long moment, relishing each other's silent presence.
Slowly standing, Sven looked down at Brad, smiling like a contented babe, then asked smiling, "Want to take a swim before lunch?"
That evening, at dinner, Sven politely asked his father to come down to the workshop the following morning before lunch. Jurgen nodded, understanding that Sven had something important to talk about.
Emma asked Sven to ask Brad if he could play the organ for a service at the church. Feeling more and more at home, Brad replied, "Of course, Mrs. Hansson."
After a full day's work, plus an exhausting picnic at their 'happy place', Sven and Brad decided to go directly up to their room after dinner leaving the parents with Lars and Ingrid.
The quick little shower together before bed was now a ritual. The sun was still up at 9:00 PM. They closed the curtains and crawled in bed.
"Thirsty?" inquired Brad.
"Yes..." replied Sven spinning around, diving under the covers.
The next morning, Jurgen entered the workshop and immediately admired the faering's state of progress. Sven told his father their plans to become associates in business and in life. Jurgen nodded, and then turned to Brad, "Sven er gay. Og du?"
"Dad asks if you are gay like me," said Sven.
Brad looked at Jurgen and said, "Now I am."
When Sven translated, Jurgen laughed, smiled, and replied, "Alt er bra..."
Father says, "All is good."
Then Sven and Jurgen continued talking. Sven became all excited! He immediately translated, "Ingrid's pregnant! Father said that we're going to be uncles!"
"You mean he said WE? We are going to be uncles... you and me together?"
"That's what he said!"
Jurgen laughed, hugged them both, and left.
On their way up to the house, Sven explained, "My father thinks it's best for us to fix up the space in the big room over the workshop and live there together. He said he could pay for the material, bathroom, stove, kitchenette, and furnishings. That way we would have our own place. He says we need the privacy. Also, he said that they were going to incorporate my room into an apartment for Lars, Ingrid and the baby. What do you think about all that?"
"I think it's wonderful to be loved by you -- AND your family!"
"You're right, it's wonderful! And we've got to finish the boat in a hurry so we can go to work on our 'love nest' before the snow!" noted Sven.
"So we'll do just that!" replied Brad.
Two days later, they returned to their 'happy place'. Brad wanted to go there to call his parents and come out to them. He needed Sven to be with him.
They rowed in silence.
Brad called his parents' office number. The secretary passed him his mother. He asked her if his father was there. She replied, "He's beside me. I'll put the speaker on."
Sven walked over to the stream and looked, smiling at the spot where their offerings had fell. Pacing up and down in the glade, Brad told his story with an uninterrupted flow of words. He told everything: falling in love with Sven, working on boats together, living together in Norway, everything.
His mother replied, "That's very interesting, Bradley. Listen, we're gone over the month of July but you can come and pick up your papers, diplomas, and other belongings whenever you want. Simply leave your key in the mailbox. The maid will pick it up when she comes to water the plants. Here's your father."
There was moment of silence.
Then a very manly voice said, "That's good news, Bradley. I'm going to credit your savings account with a nice plump sum to get you started in your new life. Good luck!"
"Thank you... and good luck to you too... Dad..." and that was it.
Sven saw that Brad was bewildered. He came over and wrapped him in his arms. Brad immediately broke into tears. He sobbed, "Mummy, Daddy where are you? Where are you?"
Brad's pent-up despondency of being always neglected was now flowing out of his system. Sven said nothing. He just held his Brad close to him. Little by little Brad calmed his tears. Then taking a long deep breath he smiled and looked into Sven's smiling eyes. Sven released his hug and stepped back. Brad stood, wiping his face, then turned and said, "Would you fancy flying to Dublin with me for a weekend in July? I've got a few things I have to pick up over there..."
"I'm your man, Brad!"
"Yes you are, Sven!" exclaimed Brad, his face shining in the sun. "I too am your man! Let's go. We've got work to do."
Epilogue
Once the boat was finished, they flew to Dublin together. That was quite an adventure for Sven. It was his first time flying, and the hustle of the city made him nervous. When they stepped out of the lift, Brad opened the door of the ultramodern penthouse where he had grown up. Sven just stood there, mouth agape.
"Listen, Sven, I'll pack in a hurry, then we'll check in at the hotel and have a spin pubbing at Temple Bar. We'll be back home tomorrow evening.
"I'm all for it! I don't like this flat... Need any help packing?"
"Yes, I'll probably need a hug quite often!"
Brad took two big suitcases out of his mother's stock, loaded them mostly with his winter clothes, took all his papers, diplomas, etc. and finally packed his personal notebooks, his camera, and his Macbook Air. Doing so, he said, "I doubt I'll use this laptop a lot, but who knows?"
Every time emotions brought tears to his eyes, Sven hugged him tight, kissed him and said, "Carry on..."
After a little more than an hour, Brad declared, "Mission accomplished! Let's go!"
When Brad held the key in the mailbox opening, he looked at Sven, smiled, and let it fall. They loaded the taxi with the luggage. As they sped away Brad didn't even look back.
They had a blast at Temple Bar. Sven loved the Guiness and the music! That night in the hotel room, they made fabulous, frantic love together. Bye-bye Ireland!
The months slipped by. Autumn surrendered to winter. Their brand new rustic 'love nest' was finished. Brad's organ concerts in the church were a success. Ingrid was nice and round, carrying their little nephew, and above all, they were very busy building their boats until July.
"I guess we did it..." whispered Sven, curling up with Brad in front of the fire.
"Yes, we did..." murmured Brad, laying his head on Sven's thigh.
Caressing Brad's hair, Sven inquired,"Do you remember how it was raining when we met?"
"Yes, I do... but above all, I remember the sunshine after the rain. It lit the rest of my life..."
"And mine too!"
There was a warm silence.
"Happy?" uttered Sven, caressing Brad's cheek.
"Very happy..." replied Brad, unbuttoning Sven's jeans.
"Right here? In front of the fire?" giggled Sven.
"Yes! Right here -- and now!"
Outside, a gentle snow was silently falling as laughter rang through the night, down by the little workshop in Bakka, well known for its very elegant custom-made faerings.
The End
A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com.