Publisher's Note: The following extraordinary document was discovered by the late author's nephew in the process of executing his uncle's Estate, and published by a sympathetic man of the trade, who wishes to remain anonymous, for private circulation and, hopefully, enhancing the historic record of our young Nation.
One Gentleman's Revelation
Being a Brief Narrative Account of Love in the Greek Tradition aboard the Schooner Michelle, in the Year of Our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Twenty One
Authored by Mr. Stanford W. N_____, of New York, 1843
Before I spin this tale, allow me as a man of honor give fair warning to sensitive readers, should this MS see the light of day, about its unusual central theme. While I can no longer place myself in the ranks of a pious and well-ordered Society after what I have become, propriety demands, in light of the potentially inflammatory content I describe herein, a candid and plain introductory notice regarding the nature of my topic; The fair season of my youth when I joyfully discovered the divine bliss of sodomy.
Deeply felt by innumerable sojourners since antiquity on this star-wandering Globe, the heartfelt Love of Man for Man is a deeply rooted tree in the Forest of human nature whose graceful leaves and abundant blossoms have gladdened and sustained the hearts, season upon season, of those brave souls, blessed by circumstance or destiny, with the good fortune of knowing its luxurious shade and noble protection.
The adventure began on March 8th, 1821, at the port of Boston. I had booked passage on the schooner Michelle, a commercial vessel under the flag of France, for the purpose of undertaking a sea-voyage to the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. Accompanying me was my bosom friend Mr. Justin H_____, a fellow office-boy of the Chronicle. Our purpose was to gain a securer foothold in the journalistic trade by assisting Mr. S_____ in detailing the late events in our neighbor's War of Independence.
One can readily imagine the thrill which permeated our frames as we left the carriage and first beheld our sea-going home. Both 24 years of age, we had seen little of the world outside the beloved confines of eastern Massachusetts. As we approached the proud ship, wreathed in sunlit fog, our hearts and steps lightened as we reveled in confident anticipation.
"Misters N_____ and H_____," said the uniformed steward, "Cabin 4. Welcome aboard monseiurs."
To the sounds of fowl and swine emanating from crates being loaded aboard by crane, we ascended the boarding-ramp, carrying our shared chest of necessities.
"All passengers are requested to remain in quarters during departure," said a friendly old crewman in accented English.
We made our way past the flurry of well-occupied deckhands to the hatch and descended to the belly of the ship. Finding the space tightly loaded with barrels and sacks of grain, we were compelled to turn the black-painted chest side-ways to permit maneuvering through the narrow passages.
"I quite like this!" said Justin with a ready smile as we surveyed cabin 4. The porthole's sunlight streamed in to the cozy space. It looked to be entirely empty as we placed the chest down.
"Look, the desk folds out," I said, unlatching it from the wall.
"This must be the bed," Justin said, hands at his waist. The small bedframe was folded to the aft wall to save space in day-time. It looked as if our traveling chest would have to serve as furniture in addition to storage.
We heard a knock at the open door.
"Bonjour, monsieurs au mieux. I am Emanuel. Your wash basin. Water barrels at the starboard forequarter. Ship's head is aft, blue door. We shall be underway within the hour, monsieurs. Aus revoirs!"
"Merci monsieur," I replied to the crewman's engaging smile.
He left us with the small white wash basin.
"You know French?" asked Justin, his slender body turning to face me in his tailored light brown suit of clothes.
"About five words," I said with a growing smile. "I must be more sophisticated than you." A large cart rumbled by outside.
"Oh Stanford. Can you believe we're really here? We'll soon leave winter to our Boston friends." He ran his fingers back through his full, slightly wavy chestnut brown hair.
My mind was increasingly preoccupied with the thought of sharing a bed with him for such an extended duration. After leaving my family home for Mrs. M____'s rooming house, I had grown accustomed to nocturnal solitude.
"I just hope our friendship doesn't unravel in such... intimate circumstances," I said looking about the tiny cabin.
"Oh, I'm easy to live with. Just tell me if my habits offend you." Finished with his polite reassurance, he smiled again and looked upon me with his lively brown eyes.
"Agreed," I said, "and if I should make the slightest bother, don't hesitate to correct me. Being a good traveler is an essential skill if we hope to rise in the profession... perhaps we can teach each other on the course of the voyage."
"Well said."
o o o o o
A fortnight passed, taking with it all my prudish concerns about being Justin's cabin-mate. Seeing the Michelle's frothy wake, her proud sails, and the ever-present schools of the common Atlantic flying-fish made the days at sea pass more than pleasantly. The ever-changing sights and senses of sea and weather overwhelmed my psyche, leading into wave-rocked nights of uninterrupted sleep of a depth and character I had never experienced on land. I had acquired a small oceanic map from a Chronicle cartographer to chart our progress, and the navigator, Monsieur Nicolle, was happy to introduce me to his art. He also found a ready audience in Justin and myself with his memories and impressions of Napoleon before the successes and disasters of the Egyptian campaign.
Justin took a deep breath of the fresh, cool sea air as we leaned against the sunlit port rail. The white-flecked Ocean washed beneath us, forty miles off-shore. Best of friends, impossibly far from home, we looked into each other's friendly faces again, not quite believing how well the voyage was unfolding.
"You two. Want to go aloft, yes?" asked Emanuel.
Justin looked back my way with a positive expression. I raised my eyebrows to confirm his enthusiasm. Emanuel led us to the rigging, protecting us from falling over the side.
Not that we ever could, holding tight to the thick netting for obvious reasons!
We climbed higher above the deck. My mind could not take in the immensity of the Atlantic surrounding us. The wind grew stronger as we ascended halfway up the mainmast.
"High enough for me!" I yelled through the gale.
"I'm going all the way!" replied Justin.
I watched him with concern as he confidently made his way skyward.
"This is great!" he yelled down.
I looked down to see the ship, so small and beautiful from this prospect. Feeling energized, I waved up to Justin and resumed my ascent. His friendly face smiled upon me as I steadily climbed to meet him. Four crewmen cheered heartily as I reached the top. Justin climbed around the other side to make room for me.
"Stanford! We made it!"
We swayed a good six feet with every pitch of the Michelle. I would have been too cautious to perform this act of daring alone, but Justin's good-natured pull of companionship made it bearable. I clutched the line and took in the all-encompassing spectacle... Dazzled by the incomprehensible power, majesty, and scale of the Ocean, I took a series of deep breaths to relax my racing heart. I felt the warmth of Justin's hand on mine.
"For comfort," he said. I thanked him for his kind gesture.
I could only handle the height and motion for two minutes. I descended slowly to safety.
"Stanford, what did you think?" asked Emanuel in the droplet-filled breeze.
"Singular!" I said to his laugh.
"Now you are braver than I at 9 years old!", he said with a smile. Justin waved down and resumed his survey of infinity.
o o o o o
Justin and I shared a pipe in our cabin as the Michelle refilled her water barrels in Norfolk. We leaned back against the wall and sat side by side on the bed.
"The weather is definitely warmer, Stan."
"Hm." I took a long drag and handed the pipe to him. We shared it to stretch his supply of matches. I exhaled another turbulent blue column of smoke from my lips.
"I hear the tobacco is particularly fine in Havana. Should be cheaper too," I said.
"Yep. Shall we give the Dutch a run for their money and go into the trade?" he remarked with a small grin.
I laughed. "No... They've got it well covered."
Justin returned the pipe and leaned his head against my shoulder.
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked in a friendly tone. It was odd, but I didn't mind.
"Oh," he said with a breath, "I've just been feeling homesick. With men all around, no one to touch."
"You really miss Annie?" I asked.
"Well, yes. Her affection anyway."
"Troubles?"
"You really need to hear this?", he asked.
"What else is there left to talk about?" I said.
Still leaning on me, he began;
"I... don't see Annie and I completing our courtship. Her father doesn't approve of my trade. How little I've gotten ahead by this age. The thought of another one of his lectures on corn prices! My God, the man bores me!"
"But you would marry Annie if he wasn't in the picture?"
"Well, to tell you the truth... While I like her affection and sweetness, I have yet to feel Cupid's arrow for her."
"Even after five months?" And Annie was so fair and gay!
"Oh, Stanford. You don't know her as I do. She sometimes displays a disagreeble temper, and can easily go from hot to cold over the slightest trifle."
"Hmm," I said. I had never before discussed such subjects with another. I found Justin's touch more and more pleasant as he continued;
"Oh, I might as well tell you. I released her of any obligation to me two days before we left Boston... I didn't want her to... pine for me when I knew I lacked the resolve to maintain any pretense of a joint future..."
I finished my puff and handed the pipe to him.
"No no, you can finish it Stan," he said, gently pushing my hand away. He shifted himself to lean closer. I gladly, truthfully hereby reveal to the World the growing excitement in my loins at his companionable pose that afternoon... The first soft stirrings of homo-sexual attraction.
"And how have you fared in the arena of love?" he asked, looking up to me.
"I... haven't fared at all. Ladies generally disregard me, I'm afraid. I too lack the driving ambition to pursue worldly fortune." I inhaled another smooth taste of tobacco smoke.
"A boy kissed me once--", said Justin.
"What?!?", I said, laughing. He laughed too, still leaning upon my blouse.
"And I liked it too... It was after a night of games in my second year at Harvard. Robert C______ walked me home to my room for his winnings. He said if I kissed him, he would cancel the debt I owed from our turn at his card-table. Can you believe he beat me out of seven dollars?"
"He told me it had to be a real kiss. It was a most unusual way to pay him, but I saw no harm in it. One kiss was not the same as out-and-out buggery after all."
I laughed to ease my growing tension. To hear him talk about such things... I sat spellbound as he went on;
"Needless to say, it was a real kiss. On his lips. I didn't know how long to hold it, so I let him make the move to break away. When we went past fifteen seconds, I... was beginning to enjoy it."
I closed my eyes and exhaled smoke from my nostrils, picturing him kissing another young man. When the subject of homo-sexuality was raised, if it all, it was purely in terms of disgust and repudiation. But how could a kiss be sinful? Justin's anecdote touched new places in my mind and soul;
"We kept going for thirty seconds. Robert pulled away with a smile, and I gave him a free five second kiss to seal our contract..."
"You amaze me, Justin."
"Well, the... mood was there. We parted friends, and he never breathed a word of our arrangement to my knowledge. I don't know, there was something... slightly wonderful in what we did. Perhaps it was so unexpected and forbidden. At that age, I wanted to try nearly everything, so..."
"So why are you telling me?" I said with a small laugh.
"What's the harm? Far worse things appear in nearly every issue of the Chronicle."
He had a point. I slowly finished our pipe, reassuring him I didn't think poorly of him now. How could I have, after feeling such fascinated interest myself?
o o o o o
The weather between Savannah and Nassau grew intolerably hot. Justin and I had fully adjusted to the rhythms of shipboard life, and were fully comfortable with one another.
As Justin read by lamplight from last week's Charleston Gazette, I opened the port hole to the night air, hoping for some relief from the sun's heat the Michelle had absorbed through the preceding day. I sat back on the bedcovers.
"I hope it's breezy tomorrow," I said, "and the rest of the way to Mexico."
Justin continued reading. The thought of his innocent kiss with another man was rarely far from my mind. The audacious fact of its reality triggered much speculation and reflection regarding Love in general. I wondered how it would feel if it happened to me. The taboo thought both thrilled and unsettled me. Knowing those lips, so near right then, willingly, freely shared a kiss of that nature took my breath away on more than one occasion.
Justin folded up the paper, reached over me, and let it drop to the floor. We both rested on our pillows, unable to sleep.
After a brief interval, Justin arose.
"I can't take this!"
At that, he lifted his sleeping gown up and off. Like me, he was completely bare underneath. He smiled to me as I blinked and watched him fold up the cloth. His graceful body's harmonious proportions were only matched by the gentle glow his skin radiated beneath our oil lamp.
"Ahhhh!" he said, reclining back. He closed his eyes. I surveyed him, taking pleasure in his stunning appearance and willingness to be free and comfortable in my presence. Following his example, knowing he couldn't possibly object, I lifted away my gown as well.
"Better isn't it?" he asked, eyes still closed.
I reclined at his side. "Much better."
"Get the lamp will you?" he said.
I nakedly rose up, kneeling to trim the wick. My half-erect penis directly above his face. I put out the light and lied down again.
"Good night, Stanford."
"G'night, Justin."
He fell soundly asleep, leaving me wide awake, knowing this turn of events, perfectly reasonable given our prevailing climatic conditions, was nevertheless very new and strange. I felt the Michelle gently rock as I stared up into the pitch black room. A cool breeze began to caress my sweating body. I soon slipped deeper into relaxation, drifting with the motion of the sea into welcome sleep.
o o o o o
We slept au naturel for the next week and a half. By the time we approached Havana, we felt comfortable enough to lounge in our cabin the same way in the daytime. I cannot tell you the joy we found in each other's company that first day. A spirit of peace and relaxation pervaded my entire being. I became totally aware of my body, especially my formerly private zones. Vulnerable, every inch of skin exposed, we naturally treated one another with impeccable manners and heightened sensitivity and consideration.
"You know..." I said, "We could still sleep this way when it gets cold."
He smiled. After a pause, he said, "Yes we could. It would be more comfortable. We could even... keep each other warm if the blanket was insufficient."
"I'm starting to adapt to the heat," I said.
"Me too. It's not so bad now."
I kneeled up to see the first glimpse of the Cuban coast slide into view.
"We're almost there," I said. Justin rose up to look. Our arms touched as we took turns peering through the small circle of glass.
"Nobody knows we're naked in here!" he whispered as a northbound cutter passed us.
I felt so light, giggling with Justin as we saw more ships and buildings.
"Why do people wear clothes at all?" I asked.
"I have no idea," he said. We shared another look and smile, keeping eye contact until we laughed again.
o o o o o
We heard the anchor chains unwind as we slowed.
"Why aren't we docking?" I asked Justin.
"Havana's known for rats, and the captain probably can't risk his cargo."
We dressed quickly, after bumping our naked bodies together a few times reaching into our traveling chest. We helped row the jolly-boat in and were cleared at the port master's office. Justin and I shopped for tobacco and matches. The gaily colored marketplace was thronged with Cubans and sailors from all corners of the world bartering for food, drink, gunpowder, and trinkets. It was nothing like the cold, proper atmosphere of Boston.
We only had two hours, so we sampled the refreshingly different local foods while strolling the well-maintained streets. The tropical flora, elegant Spanish architecture, and shaded arcades impressed and charmed us with their beauty. We wished we could linger and discover more about this friendly island.
o o o o o
The waters we sailed in amazed us with their vivid and intense blue coloration. Justin and I watched a pod of smiling dolphins play and leap ahead of the Michelle's bow. The way they forced their rounded heads through the rushing foam was hypnotic.
The crew had picked up fresh supplies from Havana, and the chef was preparing another fantastic meal. With a look, Justin invited me up the mainmast again. As the weather was considerably calmer, I readily followed him over the rigging. We felt like commanders of this dreamship from up on high. The fully saturated (in painter's terms) blue water and blinding white foam swirled around the Michelle's body. I enjoyed the four foot swaying rhythm this time, especially in such a fair, warm breeze. The men below sang bawdy shanties in French.
"I wish we could be in Boston now!", I yelled.
Justin bent down his head in laughter. I realized this sublime moment was a high point of my, and our, existence. We felt fine in our lofty perch, so we stayed to watch the sun go down in a glorious panorama of blazing orange clouds, shimmering gold rays, garish pink reflections, subdued yellow skies, and deepening serene royal purple overhead, scattered with the brightest twenty stars of evening. The crew called us down for dinner, which was spectacularly fresh and delicious.
o o o o o
We undressed in excellent spirits that evening in our cabin.
We hadn't worn our night gowns at all since our first naked night. I was free to look upon Justin's lovely body, as he was free to examine mine. We folded down the bed and lied down, tired after a long day, but energized by the beauties we had beheld.
I turned on my side to talk with Justin. We had only talked lying face up before.
"Justin?"
"Yes?" He looked over, saw me, and turned his body to face me.
"What a day this has been."
"Mm hmm." He looked down shyly.
"I'm so thankful for your companionship. I couldn't imagine a better time with anyone else."
"You've been a flawless friend too," he said, eyes twinkling. His stubbled face looked so beautiful in the golden lamp light.
"There's been something I've wanted to ask of you."
"Proceed."
I took a breath. "Can I kiss you?"
Justin closed his eyes and smiled. A soft breath. He looked up.
"I don't see why not."
I lifted my head from my pillow and leaned in, kissing my lips to his briefly. I drew back, happy and smiling.
Justin's gaze met mine. "You call that a kiss?" We both breathed deeply. I felt so alive with him. My penis was engorging too.
"Can I show you what a kiss is?" he asked.
"Yes. Please do."
Justin rose slightly and moved his body on top of mine. He pressed my shoulders to the pillow. Looked into my face. I felt him press down on my groin. His weight and strength felt great atop me.
Slowly, Justin lowered and tilted his head to kiss me. Ever so gently, his moist lips softly met mine. We both closed our eyes, luxuriating in this new game. Naturally, I embraced him and drew him closer. We shared kiss after kiss after kiss, rubbing our softly stubbled cheeks together like tigers as our passion rose.
Justin's wet lips kissed mine one last time, then he jumped off to lie back on his pillow. He was grinning, fully enraptured by our innocent love play. I turned to face him, glancing down to notice his penis totally erect.
I kissed him, then got on top, our warm bodies touching intimately. Our wonder-filled eyes were inches apart. I softly caressed his hair and forehead.
"Thank you for teaching me that, Jus."
I led him into a new round of soft, tender kisses. Neither of us had any reason to stop. I blinked my eyes slowly, not wanting to rush through this enchanting hour of my soul's true birth.
"This... All of this feels so good!" I told him.
He hugged me and turned us so we could hold each other, side to side.
"You don't want to stop?" he asked, his eyes so full of good will, our lengthening gazes building a bridge of understanding beyond words.
"Never."
Thus we spent the better part of three hours holding, caressing, and kissing one another. Our love play delighted my soul in a way I never dreamed possible. We were so independent and free, hidden away from the world in our quiet nest of comfort and intimacy. How I adored him. I secretly loved how it felt for our penises to brush and squeeze against our shared bodies. The way his soft hair yielded to my fingertips as I caressed his legs filled my soul with tranquillity and wonder. Eventually we found the most comfortable position, I holding him from behind, our lithe bodies matched like spoons in a drawer. Touched by love and so exceedingly happy, we fell into the oblivion of sleep, swaying in Michelle's warm water cradle.
o o o o o
The average reader would expect a long philosophical treatise on my multitudinous reactions to the foregoing events. The blissful situation I found myself in with Justin required no weighty analysis or detailed ratiocination. I was simply happy. Happy to know the joy of his softly stubbled cheek 'gainst mine. Happy to hold and be held by him, our strong arms at last put to their best purpose. Happy knowing our future held the same joys we had tasted the night our souls began to merge.
o o o o o
We arrived in Cancun to the eager joy of the Michelle's customers. We said our good-byes to Emanuel, Monsieur Nicolle, and the various crew. Mr. S______ led us quickly to a cantina to find out the latest news regarding the War.
The fighting was largely over, and the Spanish viceroy was rumored to be preparing his ship for a diplomatic voyage to formally end hostilities. Work on the "Treaty of Cordoba", granting independence to Mexico, was quietly beginning in elite circles. We gathered information from revolutionary leaders and common soldiers for our reports. We visited the jailed remnants of loyal Spanish to assess their outlook. It appeared we were too late for the real action.
Having several days between word of new assignments, Mr. S______ permitted Justin and me to explore the surrounding countryside. We walked several miles south of Cancun, past three widely spaced fishing villages. We marveled at the expanse of shining white sands which gently sloped into the turquoise waters of the Caribbean sea. Having no company save palm trees, various sea birds, and the occasional playful dolphin, I felt free to walk with him hand in hand. After shaking sand from our boots for the third time, we resolved to walk barefoot.
"I'm falling in love with you, Justin."
Justin looked over with a peaceful grin. He nodded.
We aimlessly walked through the leafy paradise of dunes and surf, gently kicking up hot sand and pausing for relief in the cool shade of our palm trees. We had not seen another soul or sign of humanity for several hours. As we sat beneath a tall palm, looking out at the clear, aquamarine waters of the inviting sea, I had an idea to swim.
Standing up, I removed my shirt. My pants and underclothes.
Justin watched me bare myself to the open World. I touched him on the shoulder, then ran through the sun and wind to join the celestial waters. I realized true freedom, feeling like a human being for the first time as my rapid footsteps dug into the soft sand, all of nature's Elements wearing a gentle aspect of benevolence for me, naked me, to fully appreciate.
I immersed myself in the clear, sparkling waters. Floating in the heat, I invited Justin in. He slowly, carefully disrobed, his manly body looking so fair in the palm's shade. I felt time's pace slacken as he ran into the sunlight towards me, his excited penis waving in the wind. I bounced lightly from foot to foot in the gentle surf as he swam to join me. His hands came to my shoulders as mine touched his narrow waist. We held each other, the water playfully trying to push us out of balance.
"Stanford, I love you!" he said.
We held one another tightly to seal our bond. Our eyes sparkled in the crystal serenity of the living Sea as we parted. We allowed ourselves to glance down and see our pale bodies and long penises in the endlessly changing reflections of underwater light. We marveled at how beautiful God had made us.
We swam and played, splashing and chasing above the rippling white sands. Justin's hands mischievously grabbed on and stroked my uncircumcised penis up and down. His magic touch inspired me to do the same for him. After five minutes of chasing, catching, and escaping, we joined up to bring ourselves fully alive with homo-sexual pleasures.
Justin held me from behind, kissing my glistening shoulders as he reached his right hand around to masturbate my seagirt penis. I surrendered to his loving ways, feeling perfectly in tune with the cosmic mysteries of life, heaven, earth, and ocean as my pleasure built, higher and higher, into a passionate wave of exaltation.
I recovered from my orgasmic climax to join Justin in a brief series of circling hugs. My hands happily held and explored his soft bare behind as we rose and fell in the hissing foam. I stood firmly to guide Justin's back to me. I masturbated his sensitive penis gently and slowly, kissing the side of his face and feeling his nipples with my left hand. I rocked him, shifting my weight from side to side, keeping a steady pace of squeezing, stroking pleasure. His soft foreskin moved beautifully down, around, and up his large curving penis. The fingers of my hand fit his orgasmic rod perfectly.
After his shuddering orgasmic convulsions, I held him loosely, letting the surging sea float him as his gasps returned to equilibrium. We proceeded to shallower water and sat to rest, letting the endless marching waves wash and curl over us. Cleaned by the surf and refreshed by our deeply exercised lungs, we repaired, legs pleasantly tingling and weak, to our station on the beach.
Not a soul had observed our orgasmic flight. My sensuality was reaching, striving, bursting to take in the endless succession of perfect experiences ever flooding in from our shared Universe of sky, sea, and sand. After we had been sitting in the shady sand a while, Justin lied back, then turned toward me.
In a rush of poetic beauty, I saw the powdery white sand, perfectly coating his lovely curves, as he moved his exquisite body, every precious freckle and bleached body hair visible in precise detail, to a pose more astonishingly ravishing than any painter ever imagined. My Justin, lovely and beautiful in Paradise!
The delicate sand clung and fell from our love-spent bodies as the sun and wind dried us. I massaged Justin's neck and shoulders as day passed into twilight. We peeled and fed bananas to one another, enjoying the soft, curving cylinders sliding betwixt or soft lips.
The breeze grew cooler as night fell. Stars and planets appeared and shined down upon the phosphorescent sea. Closely embracing for warmth, we slept on moonlit sand, our souls united in compassionate devotion.
o o o o o
The rapturous love we shared grew deeper through the months and years following our voyage aboard the Michelle. We lived discretely in New York City, finding our talents and ourselves welcome in the literary and artistic worlds of that broad-minded metropolis of vitality and culture. We had many occasions to share insights and fellowship with other sodomites, many of high rank and prominence whose names, if revealed in this context, would shake the foundations of our blessed Republic. Let me assuage any public concerns by expressing my confidence in the wisdom and leadership of these caring aristrocrats, gentlemen of the highest caliber.
I close by briefly detailing my present circumstances, and how they pertain to the issuance of this singular narrative.
Beset by means of a paralytic Stroke two months ago, I felt it necessary, before my natural life concluded, to shed light on the gift of homo-sexual love, from a knowledgeable perspective free from guilt or regrets. Thus I leave this admittedly less than sufficient fragment of literature for future souls, living and traveling on the hidden roads Justin and I embarked upon. May the purity of love find thee, and be a source of joy all thy days. _____________________________________________________________________ // free anonymous email || forums \ subZINE || anonymous browsing
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