Jay and Miles Chapter 54
POV: Mikey, Jay
I was a wreck...but a happy one, despite the tears Jay brushed from my cheeks. Not for the first time, I wondered how long he'd do that before he got tired of it, but I couldn't stop myself. Until just a few months ago, I'd been used to keeping up a cool and collected façade...my kæreste brought an end to all that with his gentle caring and not-so-subtle efforts to draw me out of my inner prison. I'd cried more in the past month with him than I had in years...more than any time since my grandfather died, when I was five years old.
He'd gone to all this effort to surprise me, for our `anniversary' as he insisted on calling it, but when he saw me crying and silent, his only concern was for me. His pride in all his work was shoved aside, replaced with finding out what was wrong, and how he could fix it. What do you do when faced with someone like that? I was supposed to be the one good with words, but they failed me in my moment of direst need...
"You unbelievable dickhead!" Okay, so it wasn't Shakespeare, but I put as much passion and love as I could muster into the kiss that followed, nearly knocking him off his feet with my enthusiasm. If it was hard for me to find words to express the depth of my emotions, then I could only hope that my actions would be enough to convince my boyfriend of my devotion. Jay had, in the space of four months of sharing an art class, moved from being `that foxy boy I could only dream of,' to becoming `the fulfillment of my every wish.'
Now, looking at the little scene set before me, Jay had transported us beyond the realm of vague wishes into the world of stark reality...but it was one that would be forever seen through rose-colored glasses...immune to the outer world's censure so long as we had each other. What was that John Lennon line...Love is all you need? If it was good enough for him, then it would work for me too.
Jay led me over to one of the seats and held it for me, though that wasn't easy to do on a grassy bank. He picked up the radio and grinned at me. "Now some music to set the mood."
I laughed to hear the opening strains of The Partridge Family's theme song Together. It was so like him, infusing his feelings about us going forward as a couple with his own little twist—the look in his eyes belied the grin he gave me—his love was deep and abiding, just as mine was. That was just the first song on his mixed tape...some were funny, others serious, but each one said something about how we felt toward each other.
Next, he opened the big cooler, and the aroma of roast beef hit me. The music was instantly joined by the growl of my stomach. The first thing out was a large round covered platter which he set down to reveal a chocolate cake topped by a single candle. "I hope you like it...mor told me how to make everything, but it was my first time in the kitchen."
A trio of plastic containers came out next, and I got my first glimpse of what had been producing all the wonderful smells: a juicy slab of roast beef in gravy surrounded by chunks of potato and carrot, a dish of green beans, obviously home-grown and with just a faint hint of bacon...and the last contained yellow ears of sweet corn swimming in melted butter. My chef was going to serve me before sitting down, but I put my hand out to stop him, pulling him down for a soft kiss.
"No, Jeepers, we're partners, remember? Sit down and we'll do this together."
As he filled my plate, I poured him a glass of the apple brandy his father had made, and then we switched roles. The fruity liqueur complemented our meal nicely, though I was glad we had only small glasses; it was strong stuff for a boy who hadn't tasted alcohol before Dirck had welcomed me into the family. There was no rush for us to finish eating, so I was soaking in all the details of our evening, from the soft background music to the tang of the brandy, from the beef which nearly dissolved on our tongues, to the moment when I felt Jay's foot rub against mine under the table.
He'd managed to remove our shoes without using his hands. He gave me a smirk, because now, tonight, there was no one to see or comment on our actions...and Jay took full advantage of this by maneuvering his foot up my pant leg to caress my calf. It was only a moment before I was doing the same to him, but my longer legs allowed me to reach higher to his inner thigh—though I had to do it over his jeans.
We were both fully hard before we finished eating our meal, and I might have taken his hand to lead him into the tent he'd set up...but there was chocolate cake waiting to be sampled. Jay saw my quick glance from the tent's entrance to the cake, and laughed. He got up and came around to stand next to me, and I expected him to kiss me, but he pulled out a book of matches and lit the single white candle. "We have all night, elskede—now make a wish. You can have your cake, and eat me too."
Because it was our one-month anniversary, I let him live...for the time being.
Jay's cake was great, and we each had an extra-large piece. I knew from trying at home that they were hard to get right—they never looked like the picture on the box. Mine were almost always lopsided because of uneven rising during baking...I didn't learn until years later that bakers used long knives to cut off the higher bits to achieve flatness. Frosting was difficult too, getting it the same thickness all over—but it was chocolate, and there was never any problem having too much of that. For his first effort, it was better than mine tended to be, but I had to depend on a cookbook rather than a resident expert. If this was his first try at baking, I could see myself putting on weight the longer we were together, but I was more than willing to make that sacrifice for my boyfriend.
Darkness had fallen completely while we ate, mostly unnoticed under our canvas awning, and when Jay went to flip the cassette over, the woods were quiet around us, except for the chirring of insects away from our torchlight. A glance at the glowing red numbers on my watch said it was only 10:00, but it felt like we'd been here much longer and that our time was slipping away.
Though we'd used the napkins to wipe our hands and mouths as best we could, his kisses still tasted of chocolate and the lingering saltiness of the butter the corn had been brushed with. I was going to use the napkin again when Jay grabbed my hands and began licking and sucking each finger. I giggled because it tickled, but did the same for his greasy fingers. Jay poured some water from the jug sitting next to the cooler onto one of the napkins, and we'd managed a decent job finishing up our washing when Jay said, "Just so we don't get grease on our clothes...maybe we should get naked?"
I knew it was crazy, but I couldn't help looking around to make sure we were alone. I blushed when Jay snorted, then sighed as his fingers began tugging at my shirt. The night air was calm, and warm enough for early May, so I think the goose-bumps were due to the thrill of his touch rather than any chill. I know the hard-on in my pants was definitely due to his ministrations, and I let my own fingers trace the outline of his dick through his jeans. He stopped me from working on his belt. "No, I want to enjoy this—you can do me after I've got you in the raw..."
I tried to protest, but to no avail. His hands were determined to remove my shirt and trace my every contour as he pulled it over my head. Jay had discovered early on that my nipples took only seconds to become hard at the touch of his fingers or tongue, and he had me shivering in just a few moments. I managed to retain enough sanity to grab his hands before they opened my belt. "Jay, can we go in the tent...please..." This seemed far too rushed if we had all night like he'd said.
I tilted my head down to brush our lips together, feeling warm fingers trace my collarbone before cupping the oak tree pendant around my neck. "That's my practical boyfriend, always looking ahead," Jay responded, seeing the sense in my request. His body molded itself to mine as we stood there for a moment, and I felt our surroundings slip away...tonight belonged to us, and we to one another. Everything was right in my world, and tomorrow could take care of itself.
We had put the food containers back in the cooler, not that there was much left, and the cake on its' covered platter was the only thing left out other than the brandy. I wanted to pick up my shirt and shoes to carry inside our canvas hide-away, but Jay gave my arm a tug toward the net-door. Just about to enter the candle-lit interior, he released my hand. "Leave them. Shoes aren't good in a tent—they can wear out the floor; now that I think about it, clothes can wear out sleeping bags too," he added with his devilish grin. "To make us even, you can take off my shirt now."
Even though I didn't grow up on a farm, I'd seen enough cows by this time to recognize bull-shit when I smelled it, and Jay's comment positively reeked. Still, it was a chance to see more of my blond guy and I'd never pass that up. I liked that his favorite type of shirts were cowboy-inspired, with snaps rather than buttons, so I made quick work of pulling them open and caressing his abs for just a moment before I found his smooth pecs. Like he'd done to me, I followed my touches with moist lips, and he arched his back to enhance the feelings I was stirring. I jerked the snaps open at the ends of his sleeves and let my hands ease the yellow cloth from his upper body. The light from the torches and candles turned his skin a darker shade of gold than his hair—he'd be tanned before summer ended, which set my mouth to drooling in anticipation.
I liked the fact Jay's body gave my hands all sorts of tactile sensations with its faintly defined muscles built up by farm chores. I might not see every detail unless I was close, but my fingers knew every inch of him now. I remembered going once, about age ten, to the State School for The Blind in Columbus to tour the place, and they'd talked about my learning Braille. They decided since I could still see it wouldn't be necessary, but I was more than happy to let my fingers read Jay's body like it was my favorite novel.
The prickly sensation of the cool grass through our socks turned to equally cool but rough grey canvas with one step, and we were inside the tent. With the incense and the flickering candles in little glass containers, I was reminded of one of the scenes from my collection of Arabian Nights, illustrated by Maxfield Parrish...and I could feel tears trying to well up again. I wondered about the little gasp I heard from my kæreste, but quickly realized he must not have guessed how beautiful this all would look after dark. I'd expected sleeping bags, and maybe a few blankets if it got too cold, but this went far beyond that.
Centered on the back wall, opposite the door, lay a twin-sized mattress covered with sheets and colorful quilts, and besides the pillows from Jay's bed were several brightly-hued throw pillows I recognized from their family room. To one side of the bed was a low, cloth-draped table with two candles, and a third sat on another small round stand that had held a pot of daffodils at Easter. There was even a small rectangular Oriental rug between the door and the end of our improvised bower. I saw Jay's face turn red when my eyes spotted a wash-pitcher and basin on the bedside table. Two large fluffy towels and washcloths lay folded at the foot of the bed.
When I turned to kiss him, I got a view of what lay in the corner to the left of the door: some sort of grey gym bag. Jay's blue eyes were a cool stark contrast to his incandescent cheeks when he saw my eyes widen. His color alone told me that bag contained more than a change of clothes for tomorrow morning...it had to be the contents of Uncle Mikkel's precious CARE package from Toronto.
The clinical instructions his uncle had sent didn't inspire me to enthusiastic anticipation of our finally joining into one—far from it. Mikkel had stressed our first times could be painful, especially where Jay was concerned, due to the differences in our `builds.' Lengthy preparation would be needed if I was to be his first lover, and even with all that, it would likely still prove stressful. I would rather die than cause my kæreste physical pain of any sort, but he wouldn't take my protests as an answer—I would make love to him as the final step in his plan to bring me out of my self-imposed exile.
We had argued more than once about this; I wanted him to claim me first, and I'd be content to wait for my turn until he was ready. My logical and even impassioned reasons were brushed aside as irrelevant. He heard them, considered them...and then went on with insisting on fulfilling his original plan. In almost every way, we were equals, but in this one area he refused to budge. Knowing his parents as I now did, I had no idea where he got this stubborn streak...Dirck and Rosalie were two of the most level-headed and accepting people I'd ever met, so I could only guess this part of him came from further back in his family tree.
If this entire night had been planned by anyone else, I'd think they were pressuring me into bending to their will—but not my Jay. From start to tomorrow morning's finish, all this was to proclaim and celebrate our love on all the planes of existence: physical, mental and emotional. As I'd noticed many times, Jay was just as you saw him, no airs, no games and no deceit. Maybe his sense of humor could use some fine-tuning, but other than that, he was perfect in my eyes.
Wrapped in wisps of incense, yellow candle-light, and Jay's arms, his love filled my soul, and I decided I'd no longer fight his wishes. When the time came, I'd make him mine in every way, hoping only that my love would shine as clearly for him then as his did for me now. In our short time together, I'd learned to love wholeheartedly and be loved in turn...but tonight was teaching me love cannot be measured in terms of `who loves who more'—it's either there, or it isn't. Love really is all you need.
It might have appeared that I gave in to Jay's plan, but we were both winners as he continued to remove my remaining clothes. I stroked his blond locks when he knelt down to remove my briefs and socks, and then leaned down to kiss him. "Is it my turn now, cowboy?" He snickered when I called him that due to both his love of his trademark garment, and milking chores.
I could swear I heard an amused whickering coming from Gulliver's stall in the barn...but he was too far away for that to happen, wasn't he? I'd never live down that moment when I thought the leather harness was for me rather than his horse. Jay's humor was just one of the things I loved about him, but it was also his most unpredictable feature.
Even so, he seemed to have an unerring sense of timing that could calm or relax my nerves when I most needed it. Having seen the gym bag and knowing what it contained, I was pretty sure I'd need some of his humor tonight; I looked forward to his trying things with me, but doing those things to him tested my new-found resolve to its limits.
I think Jay felt my tension, and before he stood up, he blew a warm current of air onto the head of my dick, then licked it gently. Before I could say anything he was kissing his way up my stomach and chest, then nuzzling at my neck. As his lips moved toward mine for their final destination, he whispered "Now it's your turn, kæreste..."
We'd done this so often, but for some reason I found my hands trembling as I reached for his belt. Every time we were together was special, and a voyage of discovery of more than our bodies...but tonight felt different. I didn't know yet how far we'd go with Mikkel's supplies, though I was certain we'd be breaking new ground on the next step to our grand adventure.
Jay placed his hands on mine, and I looked into deep blue pools. My trembling stopped. The warmth and love I saw in his eyes let me know we were in this together, now and forever. I basked in that radiance for what seemed like an eternity...so long that I was going to meld our bodies together just by willpower alone—until Jay's grin brought me back to the present.
"Wouldn't it be better if we were both naked?" It would, and it was.
* * * * * * * * * *
I'm a pretty simple guy to figure out; if I had an Owner's Manual, it would have only a few maintenance points: feed me...water me...love me. Can't get more basic than that. If there were any notes to add, I guess it would be `No Spinach—Ever.' I don't think that means I'm boring, just easy to get along with...but you'd probably have to ask Mikey his opinion. He doesn't get bored when we're together no matter what we're doing, or so he says. Even during homework—believe it or not.
I know boredom is the last thing I feel when we're together, and has been since the day he began to open up to my overtures in Art class. It took a while for that to start, but I'll never regret trying. Mikey is the most interesting guy I've ever known, and it didn't take long before he'd become a vital part of my day. Now, one month after we'd agreed to be boyfriends, I couldn't see a future for me that didn't have him in it.
My other friends had always talked about the girls they wanted to be with, or had been with...each was `The One' at the time, but a few weeks later they would move on to the next. Besides the fact girls did nothing for me, the whole game my friends played seemed shallow, and not something I would be getting mixed up in. I wanted a boy—any boy—who would look at me and see me as his `one and only,' just as it had happened with my parents.
I'd about given up when Greg Newton called me. Until then, I didn't think there were any other boys like me in school, so I'd done only casual looking around—a quick glance in gym or in the halls between classes, or seeming to chew on a pencil while taking notes...but his call got me to look around more. He'd told me a few things that might help me spot other guys like us, so I felt more hope after that. When Christmas Break started, I was once more beginning to doubt my chances—I'd gone to school with these kids since junior high in the middle school, and none of them had sparked any real interest for me.
Then I walked into Ms. Jones' Art class. I knew my talents there were limited, but I thought it would be more fun than the other electives open that semester. I was already taking Phys Ed, even though I'd finished that requirement last year, so my options were Poetry, Typing, or Art. Since I didn't have a typewriter at home and I'd rather read poetry than write or analyze it, Art it was. Walking into that room was the opening of more than one door in my life—it brought me Mikey.
The `art crowd' had never been my thing, so most of the kids here were ones I'd seen but not had any reason to mingle with...but Mikey was the exception. I didn't even remember seeing him around though he'd lived here most of his life. He was good at staying in the background, which helped explain why I never noticed him before, but he'd also gone to a different elementary school than I did. I found out over those first weeks that his class had done a little play about a colonial school where he'd recited multiplication tables, and that for two years he'd made it to county level in the Spelling Bee which got his picture in the local paper...but other than those things, he'd kept under cover. This was his third year in the Art Club, which was a complete surprise to me.
The longer I knew Mikey Stevenson, the more I was fascinated by him. If he had an Owner's Manual like his Pontiac did, then it had to be nearly as big as one of those Chilton Auto Repair Guides with all the special instructions and notes he'd need. Bit by bit, I was helping to reduce the size of that book, and doing it gladly because each `revision' meant my elskede was getting a better handle on who and how valuable he was as a person. He was improving day by day, and that was all the reward I needed or wanted for my labors.
The young man who stood before me now, shyly naked, yet smiling in the surety of my love for him, made my heart beat faster in my chest. I had to smile because he had insisted on wearing his glasses so he could see every detail his questing fingers revealed while removing my clothes. As close as we were at this moment, I knew he could see everything I had to offer without them, but his determination despite that only showed the depths of his love for me, which did all sorts of things to what he was slowly freeing from my pants.
Our `underwear game' was a formality by this point, but I'd gone to the trouble of making sure we matched today of all days. When my yellow briefs came into view, he chuckled and shook his head. "You're nuts," he said softly, letting his breath tickle the full cotton now obscenely obvious to both of us.
"What about `em...they want to come out and play too," I snickered. "Ow!" _Shit—not a good idea—_Mikey had leaned in and bit the shaft of my dick through my briefs. Okay, so he then began to lick it to make it all better, but still...
"Just so you know, Jeepers," he said between licks, "I'm allowing you three jokes tonight...more than that, and I'm cutting you off." For a second my hands went down to cover my family jewels, then I moved them to shove his hair back out of his eyes and trace the curve of his ears down to his jawline. I knew he didn't mean what he said literally, so I held back my sarcastic rejoinder...I might need my last two before the night was over. His mouthing of my briefs became more insistent as he accepted my silence as victory, and kept up until I had to pull him away. It was that or come in my underwear, and I definitely wanted to save it for later.
Mikey stood up and led me over to the bed, pushing on my chest until I fell back with my feet and calves hanging over the mattress' edge. I watched him warily as he removed my socks before kneeling between my legs to ease my underwear down and off. I thought he'd move up to lay beside me, and he did—eventually—after caressing a trail with his fingers, and then tongue, from my thighs to my throat. I was moaning and shaking my head from side to side before he pressed his lips to mine, and I could feel his dick rubbing my hip on his journey north.
We were tangled together exchanging kisses and copping feels for a long time, enjoying our freedom to be as loud as we wanted without worrying whether my parents or sister might hear us. It's one thing to know your parents approve of you having a boyfriend, but quite another to have them hear what you could get up to with said boyfriend. Far, in particular, had not been able to resist calling me Jeepers once or twice, and though he said it with a smile, I still blushed like an overripe tomato and wanted to melt into the ground in embarrassment each time he'd done it.
In the course of our play, I'd put Mikey's glasses on the table next to us, and I gasped when I looked at his watch when it joined his specs. Had we really been making out for an hour? That's what the little red numbers said, but it didn't seem like it, and there were more things I wanted to do with my elskede before we went to sleep...if we ever got to that point. With a final resounding soul-searing kiss, I pulled my head back far enough to kiss his nose. "Are you ready for your next present, Mikey?"
"Huh?"
My boyfriend was a master of eloquence tonight, and I had to laugh as I brushed his sweat-dampened hair back off his forehead again. I'm sure he thought the dinner and camp out were his present—and they were—but like our one-week celebration, I had more in mind. I'd given him British Sterling cologne and after-shave then, and I inhaled that fragrance mixed with his own scent even now. He'd bought our pendants when we went to the mall the day we became a couple, and though this wasn't a contest, I wanted him to have no doubts that I loved him.
With the study group most nights and having to go to school, there hadn't been much time to make a trip to buy my kæreste something truly special, so I'd called Sam and Mikkel up in West Hill, outside Toronto, for advice. I'd called them once or twice since I got their package, mainly to keep them informed about how Mikey and I were doing...and to clear up some of the information in Mikkel's letter.
It hadn't taken long for me to figure out that I felt far more comfortable talking to Sam than my more-analytical uncle. As much as I loved both of them, Uncle Mikkel couldn't help being a teacher, and that put me off a lot when it came time to talk about anything sexual. Sam was more easy-going and practical—and he also tended to laugh when his lover used the word `penis,' just like I did. I had a pretty good hunch that Mikey and Uncle Mikkel would have a lot more in common once they met than he and Sam would...but since Mikey liked me, I was sure he'd also like Sam as well.
While the letter that came with the lube and dildoes had talked about preparations, such as using fingers to get us ready for sex, it had glossed over details, and I worried about hurting Mikey when I tried it on him, which led me to telling Sam that so far we'd only used one finger, and only barely. Even over the phone I was blushing when I mentioned the mess doing it had created. Why would anybody want to do that when you'd get shit on yourself?
I'll just say this: I was glad I hadn't eaten before Sam revealed the secrets of using enemas or douches to me one night. I'd heard of them, and knew an enema was sometimes used by doctors for constipation, but I thought normal people used a laxative to do the same thing...I was wrong. He also told me how douches were used by women to clean out their...never mind, I didn't want to even think about my mom or sister using those things! I shuddered when I remembered I'd seen a box under the bathroom sink labelled `Summer's Eve' a year or two back...
As much as I was curious and eager to do everything with Mikey, I couldn't see myself going to the store and buying either of those things, and there was no way in hell I'd ask mor or Linda to do it for me. I breathed a nervous sigh of relief when Sam told me about alternatives—plain water, maybe with a very mild liquid soap...or to do a very thorough cleaning after going to the toilet. And, of course, if we used condoms, then all the mess would be on the rubber and gone once we threw it away. I thought that might be easiest, but it would mean I wouldn't get to feel Mikey when we were joined, and that seemed to defeat the whole idea of doing it in the first place.
I guess there was a lot more to being gay than either of us had thought...
At one point I'd mentioned that it seemed a huge leap from using a finger or two, then moving on to one of the `toys' they'd sent, and Sam said that other things could be used to help out—I was busy picturing things like pencils or crayons or something like that when I got another surprise. "You live on a farm, Jay...I'm sure you've seen `long, slender things' growing in your garden, right?" My mind went immediately to the carrots pictured on the seed packets Mikey and I had planted a week or so back—and it made me laugh when Mikey told me he liked carrots, but only if they were raw. I wondered if I'd get a boner next time I saw a bunch of them in the grocery store?
I was brought back to the present when my boyfriend pulled my head down to kiss me again, using his tongue to caress and then enter between my lips. I was constantly amazed how good a kisser Mikey had become in the past month, and how easily we'd taken to anticipating and fueling one another's passions. I was so lost in his hazel eyes I nearly forgot I'd asked him if he was ready for the rest of his anniversary present, but his whisper that he already had everything he wanted, reminded me.
After talking with Sam, I'd decided I'd do what I could to get ready for the time when Mikey and I would make love, and surprise him on his birthday by giving myself to him fully. I thought about keeping this to myself until that August day, but decided I'd like our first times to be mutual, so I'd better make sure he had some practice too...our one-month `anniversary' would be my revelation. I wasn't ready for him yet, but figured it could be a lot of fun having him help me get there, and vice-versa.
The only thing that worried me about tonight was approaching the subject of getting ourselves ready; yes, we were seventeen, but other than our bouts of making out and even giving each other blow-jobs, we were still pretty naïve as far as genuine sex went. That had been driven home to me when I talked with Uncle Sam—and Mikey didn't have anyone he could talk to about this stuff other than me. The times we'd done any fingering at all, we'd been squeamish as hell, but this would be even more intimate...My usual method of doing this sort of thing was to make a joke of it, but with the limits my elskede had imposed, I wondered if I could do it now.
"Do you trust me, Mikey?"
The look of confusion that crossed his face would have been funny if he hadn't noticed how serious I was. He pulled my head down to stare intently into my eyes, and I saw nothing but total love and commitment in his green-brown depths. "With my life," he whispered. "Is this about what's in the bag?"
I brushed his lips with mine. "You're too quick for me, always a step ahead," I said with a nervous laugh. Easing myself off the makeshift bed, I walked over to pick up the bag which normally held my gym clothes, but now contained the two tubes of K-Y jelly and the fake dicks...and a few other things I'd brought to help out with my plans for our evening. I sat next to him on the mattress and put the bag between us. He had leaned up on his elbows, but now sat upright so we were eye-to-eye.
I toyed with the zipper for a second, and then felt Mikey's hand come to rest on mine. "Jay...I trust you—whatever plans you have for us next will be okay. As soon as I saw what your uncle sent, I knew we'd have to get ready to use them some day. I'll follow your lead because I know you've talked to your uncle more than once—that's just who you are."
"I did a bit more than talk," I muttered softly. "Sam told me there were ways to help us out before we went all the way, so I practiced a little—it looked like a big jump from a finger to even the small dick..."
Mikey let out a sigh which I could feel on my cheek from even a foot away. "I'm glad you didn't go ahead and try one of them—did you?"
When I shook my head `no', he relaxed visibly.
"Good, because I've done a little practicing too...I tried one finger in the shower a few times before, but for the past few days, I've tried for two, but it was pretty awkward to do it myself and you had both tubes of K-Y."
I couldn't help blushing, but even in my nervous state, my dick twitched a little from the image I got in my head. "Um...sorry...we're down to a tube and a half now," I whispered sheepishly. "I tried a finger too, but Sam gave me some ideas for other things that we could use."
"So that's what's in the bag?" Mikey tried moving my hand to open the zipper, but I resisted. He frowned at me and raised an eyebrow. "What gives, Jeepers?"
I bit my lip. "Well, I want this to be right, you know...remember how it was easier when we were sucking each other? Um...I think it'll be the same now...but we'll need to see what we're doing so we don't hurt each other, which means we can't do it at the same time."
"...And...?"
"Um, well...since I've tried it and you haven't...I need to do it to you first...if that's okay?" I stammered as my face turned scarlet.
Mikey wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss. "You big doofus—don't scare me like that. I'm glad you're gonna show me how to do this because you're the farm boy who's seen animals do it—all I've seen are nature shows on PBS and reruns of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom!
"So what did Sam say would work best other than our fingers?"
Now was the tricky part...I wanted to lighten the mood and relax Mikey so things would be easier for him, but he'd told me he wouldn't put up with more than a couple of my jokes tonight; what I had planned could blow up in my face if he thought I went too far, so I opted to preface things with a little explanation just in case.
"Okay, this is gonna sound gross—but it's something I bought at the grocery store—and it's pretty cheap..." I moved my gym bag to my other side so Mikey couldn't see the inside once I opened it. "I think you're gonna like it since it's one of your favorite veggies..."
I thought about having Mikey close his eyes so it'd be a surprise, but changed my mind as I pulled out a tin can with a green wrapper and turned it so he could see the label's yellow lettering: Del Monte Sliced Carrots. I watched his eyes bug out as he thought back to the roast beef we'd just eaten for dinner.
"It took a lot of lube, but it went much easier once I took them out of the can..."
Oh crap, this was bad—Mikey wasn't saying anything—he just sat there with his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes flashing angrily. "Right! Anniversary or not, you just blew a week's worth of jokes—I hope it was worth it. If the next thing out of that bag is a can-opener, I'll shove that can up your ass without lube!"
I couldn't tell if Mikey was serious or not, so I quickly put the can away and pulled out a plastic bag of bright orange carrots, tops and all, just as nature made them. All I'd done to them was rinse them, once I got home after dropping Mikey off at his house. I realized I was out of trouble when his lips curved up at the corners just a little, and his eyes were once more dominated by the green which told me he was in a good mood.
He took one of them from me and ran it through his fingers, then wrapped his hand around it like it was one of our hardening members. He grinned evilly as he made jacking motions on it, then tilted his head to the left. "It's at least four inches longer than either of us...but I can fix that." I winced as he bit about three inches off the pointy end. "Much better," he quipped, chewing the part he'd just removed.
I watched spellbound as he tried to raise his hips to aim for his rear, then shake his head. He scooted to the edge of the mattress so his legs were hanging over, along with part of his butt. He handed me the shortened carrot.
"I got an idea...before you lube it up, try the leafy bit first." I was confused until I remembered how ticklish Mikey was, and wondered if his butt would be too. I knelt so I could see his face as he supported his torso with his elbows, then ran the fine leaves in his crack with a feather-touch. He giggled and twitched like he was trying to escape, then moaned when I used my other hand to stroke his cock.
After I'd toyed with him for a while, his face got red, and droplets of sweat began to drip onto his hairless chest. It got better when I applied K-Y to the orange part, as well as on his opening, and then began to twirl it gently around like a small drill. I alternated stroking his dick, then sucking it until he blasted all over his chest.
I was more than ready when he did the same for me with another of the carrots I'd brought. Mikey was very gentle and patient, taking extra care not to go too fast or deep, letting me get used to his manipulations. The feeling was a lot different with him doing it, compared to trying it on myself...it was so much better.
"I think carrots just became my favorite veggie too," I sighed as we drifted off to sleep, at the same moment the last of the candles guttered out.
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