In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or forbidden for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two consenting young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A photo album (pdf) concerning this story is available upon request marin.giustinian@laposte.net. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
LORD OF THE WINDS
Part 2 out of 3
by Marin Giustinian
Post Civil War on Portsmouth Island, North Carolina.
The next morning, he blurred his feelings, burying himself in work. Jason was on his mind all the time. He tried to not pay attention, keeping himself busy, minding his job and himself... more so than usual.
As the days drug along, he ran several trips over to Ocracoke. Then the shopkeeper sent his son over to tell him that he had an urgent parcel for Morehead. Max had mixed feelings about going back. He was glad and yet he was afraid that the thought of Jason would eat back at his heart again.
"Poppycock! And damnit! I'll leave tomorrow on the dawn tide!" he told himself in the little mirror over the washstand. He gathered some clean clothes, happy to go soak and soothe himself in the Turkish baths again.
"I shall not go back to the tavern... I can't face sitting at a table there without Jason. Not yet at least," he told himself as he prepared Rebel.
Once underway, he whistled away his melancholy, manning the tiller as Rebel clipped through the wavelets. The autumn sun rose over the dunes. The almost wintery breeze had cleared up the sky and the slanting sun glistened on the ripples. He rode the perfect wind straight into Morehead on record time. He found a space to moor and strode up to the train depot. It was mid-afternoon, just a little before the early winter dusk when he walked into the waiting room.
"Well, well, well! Hey there, Max! Glad to see you, man!" exclaimed the stationmaster, leaving his window to shake Max's hand. He held a letter in his other hand. The cordial greeting made Max feel good.
"Glad to be back. Not much going on over on Portsmouth now that winter's on its way..."
"Here, this is for you. Direct rail mail from Raleigh. Look, it's addressed, "For Max, Captain of Rebel from Portsmouth Island, in care of the Stationmaster of Morehead City. Post Haste."
Max looked at it, gave the gentleman a shy smile, saying, "That's the first letter I ever got!"
"I hope it's full of good news for you, son! Is that parcel for me?"
"Yes, Sir. It sure is," he replied, handing it over.
Max stuck the letter in his pocket, paid the postage and left. Once outside, he sat down on the edge of a watering trough, pulled the letter out of his side pocket, turned it around two or three times in his fingers and stalled before delicately tearing open the envelope. The wind made the paper tremble in his hand... or was it Max's hand shaking from the emotion of deciphering the first words.
Raleigh, November 22, 1866
My dearest Max,
I made it to the capital city of Raleigh. Trains are amazing! After Goldsboro, there's a stretch where we almost got up to thirty-five miles an hour. Everything was blurry when I looked down at the ditch along the tracks.
I was so sad to leave you! It was breaking my heart. When I finally got here, I found a bunk in a gentlemen's boarding house for nearly nothing. Can't say it's nice, but at least I'm not in the streets. It's getting cold up here! I'm up at dawn and peddle my stuff around the eating places for the breakfast people. Then I work on my stock some, do the lunch hours and then the office turnouts when the guys are needing a smoke and then I do the taverns and bars until late. By the time I get back to my bed, I'm dead tired! I don't do nothing for myself. Some of the guys here at the boarding house are nice but most just mind their business, not being very friendly. There's one guy though I like talking with. He's from up in the Piedmont. He reads books and then tells me about them. He's got a girl friend too and writes letters to her all the time. I've wanted to write you all the time, but I didn't know what to say. But then I just up and told myself, what the hell! Just tell him you miss him. So here it is, Max, I miss you. I miss the night we spent together on Rebel, I miss the beer, the meal, your smile, your smell! There, it's said. Don't get upset about what I tell you. It's the pure, bare assed truth, but don't fret, I'm fine and I'm glad I let you in on how I feel. I'm inclosing a picture card of the kind of locomotive that's taking my letter to you. If you want to write me (and I hope you do!) the address is on the back of the card. Think of me!
Your devoted friend,
Jason
Max read the letter several times, each time faster. His heart was drumming deep down in his chest! He almost danced his way to the bath house. He soaked, sang and had himself shaved and his hair trimmed. He looked like he was going to a wedding! Then he went to the tavern. 'Their' table was free. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He decided to treat himself to a tall mug of beer. He took out the letter and read it again.
"I'm going to eat a dinner for us both!" he mumbled, carefully spreading the letter down in front of him on the table.
Later that night, once all curled up in the cuddy cabin, he enjoyed a long, slow, tender coaxing of his cock until it released its liquid fire, arching him up, casting semen all over his belly. He brought his wet fingers up to his lips and smeared them with his sperm. His soul soared to Jason's. He licked the envelope where Jason had licked it. He kissed the letter that his love had touched, blurring the ink where the word 'truth' met his sticky lips. "Jason, I'm sure, is feeling me now," he told himself, yawning. For the first time since he and Jason had slept in those very same covers, he sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Portsmouth Island, December 18, 1866
My dear Jason,
Your letter was the first letter I've ever got! When I read it, I had to hide my face so nobody could see me weeping my joy. I miss you too, my friend! Your letter really soothed my yearning for you! It made me so happy that I ran to the bath house and even got myself a shave. I'm was as slick as you! Doesn't last, but whatever! Then I went to have supper at OUR table and then, once in OUR cuddy, I lit the stove, tucked myself in and thinking about you, I took matters in hand, if you get what I mean, and then went to sleep kissing the paper your hand had touched!
Maybe you felt my heart calling out to you, sweet friend.
I hope winter isn't too bad up there. I'm sure you get cold working in the streets. Here, the nights are long and the weather is fickle, but I still marvel at the beauty of frost on the grass gleaming at dawn in the dunes. Either there's fog and I can't see beyond my nose or the sun's out shining and in the crystal cold air, blinding my eyes. The chill is so clear that it's like breathing light -- or so full of moisture that I feel like I'm gonna drown with each breath. I wish I could show you how beautiful it is to live here. I've spear flounder to eat everyday with my cabbage, potatoes and corn bread and even if I have to spend a fortune on lamp oil, my net mending business is doing real fine.
I'm chartered at least twice a month to take people over to Ocracoke or down to Morehead. Soon they say the train will come to Beaufort. It will make the trip shorter! When I got passengers onboard, I sail real easy like, but what I enjoy the most is sailing by myself. Rebel and I have a great time driving hard on the wind. It's like praying for me. Some people could say it's dangerous, but I know that the angels of the water and the sky come and play with me, guiding me, helping me find the best current, the swiftest breeze, the shortcuts known only to me and them!
Oh, my dear Jason, it's so good to have a friend to tell all that to! Words come so easy writing to you. I hope I don't bore you with my redneck islander's carrying on. You're a capital city gentleman now. I really like the locomotive picture you sent. Like you say, trains must be exciting. Thirty-five miles an hour! That's hard to believe! Maybe I'll ride one someday. All I can send you is this little wax myrtle leaf I've 'anointed' only for you. What's nice about it is that it smells real good, it doesn't die in the winter and stays alive in spite of the cold... like my affection for you, man!
Stay safe! Don't get foolish or drunk too often! Ha! You are too precious for me! And above all, have a good Christmas! I'm going to go sing carols in the church on Christmas Eve. Haven't put my foot in there since I got here. Then the Howard's have invited me to Christmas lunch in their home. It's going to be fun seeing little Percy . He's sitting by himself, pretty as a picture and holds out his arms for me to carry him every time we see each other.
But for holding somebody, I wish it was YOU!
Your faithful friend,
Max
Raleigh, January 20, 1867
My dearest friend Max,
I devoured you letter like a Christmas cookie! It arrived just in time for the festivities and was the best gift I ever got! You have a way with words that goes straight into my heart. I can actually smell what you tell. You don't bore me at all when you write about your island. It even makes me jealous!
Big city gentleman, my ass! Life here isn't funny at all! It's night when I go out. It's night when I come back. I don't even take Sundays off! Can't afford to! Business isn't bad, but things are so expensive! Raleigh is dirty, noisy, sooty and stinks of manure, horse piss and decaying garbage. I wonder why I'm doing all I do. Money?
You're the lucky man, you don't need money to eat! All you do is just go out and fish. I need money even for a doughnut and have to pay the landlord every week or I'm out in the cold. I think having a shelter should be as normal as having clothes on. Here in the city, you see homeless working men whose pay doesn't even cover rent. Then there're stray veterans with their crippled souls that the war has really damaged and they're out in the cold too. They fought for whom after all? For those who live in the big houses, own the mills and tobacco warehouses and railroads, those who sit on velvet cushions in the capitol building. Those are the ones who sent them to battle to get killed for THEIR ideas, their money, their pompous bullshit and because of their business fever, those homeless wretches are deprived of a roof. I think they should go naked, just to shock and humble the people who scorn them! The savages we're killing off like flies out west don't pay rent! The land is their home and it's free. It's us who are the villains, claiming to bring them Civilization! I say that's bullshit! The land belongs to nobody and we say we own it. What can that mean to a free redskin? And to think that I hear the white trash around here say they're like niggers, good for nothing. What in the hell are their fat asses good for other than lick the asses of the rich folk, giving thanks for the crumbs that fall off their tables. We're crazy and we keep saying we're civilized! The scriptures say we shouldn't worry, not more than the bird in the tree. God will provide for us... How can anybody in their right mind believe such fairytales when we're out there killing ourselves on a job, just to barely pay for what should normally be available for all anyhow? When the yankees came plundering and burning our land, they sowed vulgarity there where there used to be some class. They're dumb as dirt, can't even spell their name, and here they are farting around giving us lessons, telling us how bad and worthless we are. Instead of class, elegance and manners, they have guns, brawn and lies! Those uncouth, shameless bastards got hold of the power here with guns and money and I can't even imagine what it's like further up north like in New York, where they live.
Excuse me man! Sorry to bore you with my ranting... but it's good to let some steam off too! I'd give anything to come and live like you, Max, live with you like the way God's children were born and meant to live.
I can see us now! We could comb the beaches, fish, hunt and plant and get along with dignity! Am I dreaming too much? Life has already sanded off my childish illusions, but when I was a child, we were happy, man! Heureux! and those damn yankees bombed us shitless! But now, thanks to you, my dreams seem like they could be real again. I'm dreaming about the real way to live and be happy. All the rest I'm wallowing in is the big illusion, the nightmare I can't wake up from... or maybe it's the other way around and I'm just a misfit. I don't know, Max... I just don't know!
Whatever it be, Max, just having you to write to keeps me going. I'd love to, as you say, take things in hand together. We're young and we deserve justice, don't we?
I love you, Max! Take care of yourself too!
Your eternal friend,
Jason
Portsmouth Island, February 20, 1867
Jason, come! Come now! I'm waiting for you. You're hurting up there in Raleigh. Your place is here. Our place is here. We'll manage! You can even peddle your stuff here. I can take you over to peddle on Ocracoke if you want. Together, we can overcome any adversity, ride out any hurricane of shit that Fate can fling in our face. Come, don't stall. Get on that fast train. We'll talk about all of what you say, and even more, when our voices can replace our pens and paper. Write as soon as you have the date you should be arriving. That way I can be there to take you with me to Portsmouth. I'll go to Morehead every week to find your letter. Don't make us languish any longer. Let's finally start our real lives together.
I trust you Jason. I love you too! I don't care what others can say about us. If we're sinners, then they'll just have to pray for us. What we live will be our prayer to life and with that I'm sure that God will be just tickled to death!
Love and courage are the same things in my book!
Here's my heart that beats for you, man! Take it and let's tame the wild winds together!
Max
Raleigh, March 6, 1867
My only, precious Max,
I'll be in Morehead on the train coming in, if it's on time, around 4:30 PM on April the 7th. I know you'll be there. I'll fill you in on all the news later, in person!
Reckless love overcomes all!
Jason
Max just sat, looking a little stunned at the very concise but overwhelming letter he held. Then he looked down at his feet, then out on the water as he gathered his wits, a tear falling from his cheek, sitting on the pier, his feet dangling over the water. He counted on his fingers the number of days left before Jason would be there.
"Holy Hell, he'll be here in only ten damn days. Ten! Oh Goodness Gracious! Shit, I've just time enough to get back, sort out everything and make room for my mate!" he said as he was finally getting over the initial shock of the news. He grabbed a wicker tot-bag out of the boat, counted his money one more time and went into town. He ran up a bill as he stocked as much as he could carry of linens, spices, dry goods, matches, oil, coffee, beer and the hundred and one other little items that came to mind when you want to please a guest. The hardware man lent him a wheelbarrow to get things back on the boat. For the first time, Rebel was carrying a load, not for others but for himself... and Jason, and it felt goddamn good!
The house had never been so tidy, the grounds around swept, the chicken coop cleaned out, the wood pile replenished. He was grateful for all the winter rain because his cistern was full to the brim. He even scrubbed out the washing barrel he used to sponge bathe himself in, facing the fire. He now had two of everything in the sideboard : plates, forks, spoons, glasses, mugs, etc. His windows had never been so clean and not a cobweb was spared in all of the house, now ready for two!
He explained to his closest friends that a good buddy was coming over for a stay. Everybody congratulated him for no longer keeping so much to himself and agreed it would be nice to have a new face around.
At noon of the 7th of April, Jason was back in Morehead. He had left the afternoon before, anchored in Nelson Bay for the night and at dawn, left. He splurged on a room at the Sanitary Fish Market Boarding House. He was given the last room at the end of the hall, just next to a bathroom with running water and a porch overlooking the sound.
At the tavern, he grabbed some bread and cheese, drank a beer and coming back from the bathhouse, he hesitated on gathering some azalea blossoms to make a bouquet for the room, "Let's not overdo it!" he said to himself laughing.
By 3:45 PM he was already on the platform, stretching his neck, looking inland, anxious to see the smoke of the arriving locomotive over the distant tree tops.
"Expecting somebody, Max?" asked the stationmaster as he sided up, smiling.
"Yes, Sir. I am! Have they wired saying the train running on time?"
"Calm down, boy! It's on time... Is it the person who's been writing you all the time that coming?"
"Yes, it's my best friend and for your information, Fred, he's not my girlfriend, if that's what you're thinking!"
"Well, doesn't matter, does it... He's really special for you since you're groomed like you were getting married! Ha!"
"He's special -- that's all!"
"That's good," he smiled, patting Max on the shoulder.
Max smiled back, ran his fingers through his hair and said, "I've got to walk my nerves down some."
"Good idea!"
Max nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the whistle moan. The train finally appeared, steamed up to the platform, screeching to a stop, steam hissing all over! Then he saw Jason hop off the car, grab his carpet bag and look around. Max shouted out, "Jason! Over here!" and he ran. They collided in a gigantic bear hug and broke out laughing. He didn't have his peddler's backpack with him...
The stationmaster smiled too, musing to himself, "Special... really damn special those two lads are!"
The light cotton curtains swayed back and forth in the breeze coming through the open French doors off the sound. They were alone on the hall and at that hour, nobody was in the bathroom. Jason put down his bag, grabbed Max again and they kissed, making out and waltzing around the high, four poster bed, draped with a fancy mosquito net.
Still holding each other tight, Max asked, "Where's you tobacco stuff, Jason?"
"Sold it for nearly nothing to a poor little halfbreed in Raleigh. I'm glad to get rid of it. I want a new life, Max! Peddling is now done and over!"
"You do smell better!"
Still holding each other, they both laughed and Jason said, "You sure smell fine yourself! The room's a real special treat!"
"Nothing good enough for our getting back together, man! Listen, there's even a bath if you want to wash the filth of the train off of you. Then we'll go have supper at OUR table and then come back up and tell each other all the news we didn't write."
"The bath! YES! Supper, YES... but we've got time to talk later... don't we?" he smiled, giving Max a very coy wink.
"Go get clean! I'll come in and do your back."
"Is that all?"
"Get going, scoundrel and don't forget the towel!" he shouted, throwing it at Jason, as he rummaged in his bag for some clean clothes.
Jason disappeared in the bathroom. Grinning like a possum, Max went out on the porch to calm himself down some, breathing real deep some. He felt his cock swell a bit in his trousers. Felt good! He then went into the bathroom. Jason stood, dripping all over and turned his back to Max. Having soaped up a small washcloth, he scrubbed Jason from neck to tail. While he worked on the buttocks, Jason leaned over a bit, inviting Max to scrub a bit closer... which he did.
"There you go, man! All nice and clean!" croaked Max, wringing out the washcloth. Jason turned around, the tip of his beautiful uncut cock gleamed as it stretched out, hard as a gun barrel.
"God, man! You're absolutely gorgeous! Cock and all!"
"And it's all there just for you, Max! All of me and perhaps even more!"
Max had some trouble getting Jason to put his clothes back on. They both fell on the bed making out, still catching up on lost time. Jason started to unbutton Max's shirt. Max grabbed his wrist and said, "We'll be stronger for everything that's going to happen if we're fed, man!"
"You're damn right! Give me a second and we'll go."
When they strode into the tavern, dressed like real gentlemen, there was a wolf whistle or two. The boss lady shouted, "Shut up you scoundrels!" and walked up, wiping her hands on her apron, saying, "Glad to see you back, fellows! Now aren't you prettied up to hit the town! You look really happy! Gonna get laid?"
Everybody guffawed in the barroom and Jason spoke up, "Not until you've fed us, M'am! Whatcha got ready?"
"This evening I'm gonna give you all some of the fattest, best deep fried shrimp in the South, my special hush puppies and cole slaw like you've never tasted and to top it all off, I made some special ambrosia and corrected it with just a shot of white lightening," she beamed waiting for the reaction that immediately followed.
"That'll be just fine, M'am!" Max said as Jason nodded real hard.
Then from the back of the room, someone shouted, "Maybeline, how come you never cook us something like that?"
"Because you all are too dirty, too ugly and too cheap to enjoy a real lady's cooking! Got it?" then turning to Jason and Max, "Scoot over to your table, boys. What are you having, sweet tea or beer?"
"Beer!" they replied at the very same time as they sat in their corner and just smiled like morons at each other.
Satiated by Maybeline's down-east feast, they took their time lighting the lamp, turned down real low and undressed each other in the breeze, crossing through the room. Once nude, they climbed in bed, closed the mosquito net and just sat facing each other, their legs entwined. Max reached out and began caressing Jason who sighed a breathy smile of satisfaction.
"It's hard for me to believe you're here, Jason. I've missed you so much. Hurt dug out my soul to hold more happiness. Now that you're back, I'm so happy that it hurts too!"
"I know what you mean! But now I'm where I had to be, Max. When we bumped into each other at the bath house, a new life began and..."
"it began for us both! Enough words..."
They softly, methodically leaned into each other. Stretching out together, holding each other, they made deep, slow love to each other, never neglecting the slightest stretch of skin, the slightest fold of an exposed and welcoming armpit, ear or licking beneath a sagging ball sack. Jason's tongue dabbed the dripping crystal-clear slick seeping out of Max's twitching cock. He pulled Jason up to kiss as he grabbed the lad's buttocks, fingering his hole, thrusting his tongue deep down into his mouth. Jason moaned, pushed back on Max's impatient fingers, deeper inside Jason's begging ass. Flipping him over he explored Jason's most intimate being as he squirmed uttering, "Please take me Max. I need you!"
Max smeared his cock with both his and Jason's abundant precum, then licking, spitting in his hole, his cock began the slow, diligent ascent into his lover's body. Jason cringed, relaxed and reacted, quivering, squeezing, coaxing Max's cock deeper and deeper inside. Little by little, instinct took over. Max thrusted a few times and then howling in the sudden surprise of a shattering orgasm, their souls merged, radiating their bodies like a dying star.
Jason melted in Max's kiss. The pact of their union was henceforth sealed.
"Jason?"
"Yes..."
"I need you too," pled Max.
Jason kissed Max's neck, then his chest where his heart was pounding. His cock oozed in anticipation as he mixed with his fluids some of Max's semen seeping out from under him. Max grabbed Jason's hand and drooled his spittle into the slicking mixture. He then rubbed it up and down on Jason's throbbing cock. He turned on his belly and pushed his ass up, seeking Jason's penetrating cock. Jason slid one hand under Max, grasping his man's erection and with the other, fingered his hole as it opened up like a blossoming rose. Max reached around and guided his lover's glans to the point of entry, urging it up into him. He flinched an instant, as did Jason just before, then when the pang receded, he slipped into an unbelievable bliss. Jason's cock danced in Max's innards as Max writhed and twisted seeking Jason's longing, wet lips. Jason screamed into Max's mouth, spasming, jerking, then arching, pushing on his arms, head thrown backwards, he too howled like a wanton wolf, spewing his liquid fire deep inside Max as his ass clenched Jason's captive cock. Collapsing, both releasing, he rolled over Max. Slumber slowly overtook their love-spent bodies. They drifted together on the tide of a nearing, dreamless sleep.
The following day, they tied up at Max's pier on Portsmouth Island. Their true life was about to begin.
(to be continued)
A photo album (pdf) concerning this story is available upon request marin.giustinian@laposte.net.