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 marin.giustinian@laposte.net. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contribution. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
MIRRORS part 3
by Marin Giustinian
Nowadays in Poolewe, Wester Ross, Scotland
The last week of November, Ben's housemates were talking about a future master's class with a famous Italian photographer from Venice, Silvano Stellin. One of the girls, Rachel, then turned to Ben and said, "You know, Ben, you should go to the audition he's having to provide us with models."
"I'd try out if I weren't so fat!" added, Andy, the other male housemate.
"The subject of the workshop is The Classic Nude Male from Pericles to Canova and you are by far the most absolutely classical looking lad in all of Leeds. I'm sure he'd choose you! It would really be a great favour for us all!" concluded Susan, the third.
"You mean I'd model naked?"
"Sure, why not? Why be ashamed? Everybody knows what you guys have between your legs!" replied Rachel, as the two others nodded their confirmation.
"I have to think about it..." replied Ben, blushing a bit.
The more he thought about it, Ben imagined that the job could even be fun, at least less boring than his English lectures. He had never been very outgoing, but he did enjoy being naked in private... or with Caelan, and if posing could be of any help for his mates, he thought that he could at least be useful that way.
Ben and four other fellows showed up for the audition the following Thursday. When they walked into the big studio, Ben was impressed by the glare of the sunlights, the gigantic cyclorama and, above all, by the silhouette seated behind a table, thumbing through some papers.
The silhouette stood, saying, "Good day, boys. Have a seat on the floor. I'll be with you in a moment." Silvano had a slight Italian accent. As he walked into the light, it could be seen that he was a very handsome man, in his late forties, dressed quite casually, with rakishly styled salt and pepper hair. He definitely had that Latin touch of class. The boys were a bit tense, waiting in silence but when Silvano began to speak his voice immediately captivated them all.
"I'm glad to see that there are five lads in this university with enough balls to answer our call for models willing to pose nude, for and with my students, during the workshop."
They looked at each other, stifling a laugh.
"I hope you are all familiar with the classic male nude in western art: statues, paintings, drawings, etc. Even though the body is shown naked, it is the soul we seek. It's the tension, the life in the body more than the body itself that creates the aesthetic impact in art. It has nothing to do with provocative porn or Versace fashion pics... Am I clear?"
They all nodded.
"I'll be needing two types of males: the youthful, graceful ephebe and the heroic warrior-athlete."
The boys looked at each other and one of them stood. He spoke up with an aggressive undertone, muttering, "I'm neither a wimp nor a stud, so I'm getting out of here."
Silvano sharply quipped, "If you think I'm looking for a wimp and a stud, then I do agree; get your vile arse out of here and do so in a hurry!"
There was a sudden calm.
Silvano resumed, "So... now you're four. Please undress. You can leave your clothes on the chairs over there."
The boys obeyed and began to undress.
"Oh, by the way, when the girls check you out... and even the boys, don't worry if you get a hard-on! It's healthy... so just enjoy."
The fellows giggled and then lined up in the light. As they stood there, a girl rushed in, apologising for being late. Ben recognised Rachel.
"Boys, let me introduce you to Rachel. In spite of her absence of punctuality, she's my assistant for the workshop. If you are chosen, you'll settle your schedule with her."
As the other boys laughed, she winked at Ben, giving him a thumbs-up.
Silvano walked up to each boy and examined him from head to toe, front and back. There was a kind of slave-market atmosphere.
"Not bad... You are all quite handsome lads. Now, let's see how you move and pose..."
Silvano went and picked up his camera, came back into the light, asking, "Who's the first to show us what he's good at?"
A tall, muscular guy sort of slipped into the centre as the three others backed off the set. The fellow moved like an embarrassed elephant.
Silvano encouraged him, saying, "Relax, just move, walk, stretch, forget about us. Stop, sit, stand... just do something!"
"Tell me what to do and I'll try... I've never done anything like this before," he retorted.
Silvano gave him a few indications but the case was hopeless. He was simply a handsome disaster.
"Thank you, but I think you're at your best in a stadium... Next!"
As he was leaving, a very dark, smooth, medium sized lad with well defined muscles stepped up and flashed a brilliant smile. He was totally at ease and obviously happy to be there in the light.
"Can I try some poses on the floor, Sir?"
"Do as you like... are you a dancer?"
"I do circus acrobatics as a hobby, Sir."
"Well, show us some instinctive motion, if you can."
He began to move. He was like a cat.
"Thank you! What's your name?"
"Jack Hampton, Sir."
Ben was suddenly impatient to try. When Silvano said, "Next" he was already in the light.
He looked like youth itself. His looks and the radiance of his presence stunned Silvano. His skin was smooth, hairless and white as alabaster. His pubic curls were the colour of a raven's wing and his nearly blue-black hair gleamed. His eyes were smiling even if his damp lips were relaxed.
"Could you just move some, my boy...?" he asked. He aimed his camera on Ben, uttering to himself, "very beautiful indeed..."
Ben slowly sat, then rose and walked towards the backdrop, he turned and walked straight towards Silvano and stopped as if he had done that all his life. Silvano feverishly took picture after picture. Rachel smiled, her head slightly tilted, nodding in admiration. The other boys just stared, like in a trance.
"Thank you, that's fine. What's your name?"
"Ben Miller."
"Ben, your skin glows in the light! It's amazing! So, who's next?"
No one stepped into the light. The last boy had taken his clothes and was dressing in a corner.
Silvano smiled, gathering his papers, saying, "So, there we are. Ben and Jack, go speak with Rachel. I think we are going to do some very good work! Good day."
With that, he took a long look at Ben, smiled and left the studio.
Ben learned that Silvano did only light sepia or black and white, film photos, with no photoshop, no retouching. The first day of work, the students were excited, there was electricity in the air. The atmosphere was quite different from the audition. Ben and Jack joked as they left their clothes in the changing room. When they walked into the studio, there was a sudden hush, a few giggles and then Silvano spoke up. He took things in hand and in just a few minutes, there was a real atmosphere of creation and work.
Ben worked best alone. He was the perfect ephebe. The experience of being a living 'work of art' was for him a kind of spiritual experience. It made him think about himself, his feelings, and above all, about Caelan. The pain of their separation was still there, giving him a sensual, yet melancholic expression.
He wrote to Caelan, "Being a model is a real adventure! I can't find the appropriate words to express what I experience as I pose...I'm sort of anxious to see the pictures they've made of me. But above all, my love, I'm mostly anxious to come back to Poolewe and to you for Christmas. I'm counting the days!"
Towards the end of the workshop, Silvano invited Ben to come and see the 'professional' photos he had made as he posed for the students. He also wanted to talk to him about project he had in mind.
"Ben, you are the perfect model. I need you to help me with a series of images on the theme of 'Flesh and Light'. I would like to hire you to come to Venice and pose for me. We should be able to do the job in two weeks. If you accept, I can be free to work with you over your Christmas holidays," explained Silvano.
Ben was surprised, not knowing what to reply.
Silvano added, "My gallery can credit your bank account for your trouble. Would £2000 do? Of course, all your expenses shall be paid, such as travel, restaurants, etc. Can you accept?"
Ben was terribly confused, tempted and undecided.
"Can I give you my answer tomorrow, Sir?"
"No later than that, Ben."
Ben spoke to his father who simply said, "You're now eighteen and free to live your life..." He called his mother who said nearly the same thing. She simply added, "What does Caelan think about that?"
He called Caelan, explaining his dilemma. Caelan felt a little sick as he listened to Ben, then he replied, "Of course, I would be terribly disappointed not being together like we had planned..."
"I haven't said I'm accepting the job yet!" interrupted Ben.
"Listen, I'm sure you're tempted. Also, the money is very good! If you don't go, you will always regret it. So just keep me posted, PLEASE! I'll wait for you as long as I have to, but, for God's sake, don't make me wait too long!"
"I love you, Caelan!"
"I love you too..."
Silvano and Ben left Leeds-Bradford airport at 6:00 AM with the KLM, changed in Amsterdam and arrived in Venice-Marco Polo at 11:30 AM. Ben had simply two bags with him.
He was excited and wary at the same time. The water taxi ride from the airport to Silvano's flat was an adventure in itself. There was fog and on the open water, he saw nothing, but when the motorboat entered the small canals, Ben was wonderstruck. The city was magical. When they finally arrived, just in front of Silvano's house, on the Fondamenta del Borgo, he was in a trance.
Silvano's house was on four levels. The living room and kitchen was over the storage rooms, subject to flooding. Upstairs there were two bedrooms separated by a shared bath room. On the third level there was his studio and darkroom. He was a bachelor and lived alone. The house was not very large, but it was furnished with perfect taste. On the white walls, there were pictures of male nudes and mirrors everywhere.
"I hope you don't mind sharing the bathroom with me. We'll go out to lunch as soon as I finish checking my paper mail. Look around; make yourself at home."
Ben went to the window. From there, he admired a beautiful perspective down the major canal, bordered by a sidewalk. He then plopped down on the large sofa and thumbed through a book of Silvano's photos published a year before. Ben was impressed, not only by Silvano's home, but also by the silence and peace that reigned. He felt secure.
A little later, they went out, and less than a hundred yards later, they entered a 'locanda', a traditional Venetian restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. Silvano was greeted by the owner and treated as if he were at home. He told Silvano his suggestion for the day. Then Silvano explained to Ben how they dine in Venice.
The wine went directly to Ben's head as he nibbled on the breadsticks waiting for the pasta. Afterwards, he enjoyed a plate of fried seafood and a crispy salad. The food was delicious and he began to relax a little more than usual. As they were eating, several other customers stopped by their table to say hello to Silvano. They complimented him on his British 'trophy'. Ben just smiled, understanding nothing!
Once back in the house, Silvano suggested that Ben unpack and rest up before going out to visit the city. Ben emptied his bags and immediately fell on the bed. He slept like a stone for an hour. When he woke up, Silvano showed him the Mac, saying he could use it for his mails whenever he wanted. Then he took him up to the vast attic studio and adjacent darkroom. That was his space of creation.
This house is now your home for the next two weeks. We'll work from nine in the mornings to one. Then we'll go to our 'locanda' for a good lunch. You'll have your afternoons off and then we'll work again in the evenings after a light dinner that my housekeeper leaves for me to warm up. I want to take care of you as much as possible: good food, relaxation, massages, skin and hair care and I want you to visit Venice and absorb all the art you can. Believe me, it will show in your work.
The experience of living with Silvano was a complete revelation for Ben. He had never received so much personal attention from another person before. The everyday life was simple, elegant and delicious. Their subjects of conversation always had a philosophical content that enchanted Ben. The massages stimulated his physical sensitivity. The skin creams as well as the shampoo were his morning treat. He was not only Silvano's subject, but little by little he felt like he was becoming his creation. Each photo shoot was like a therapy, an invitation to discover himself. Ben strove to please Silvano as much as possible. Silvano was his companion, his mentor and his master. He was 'shaping' Ben's soul, refining it, purifying it. The only thorn in his soul was his desire to share all that with Caelan.
Before each evening session of work, Silvano massaged Ben, relaxing him, then he invited him to concentrate on a specific aspect of his body and simply move. Sometimes it was his skeleton, at other times his members, or his breathing, his mouth, his sex. As Ben moved, Silvano turned on some very meditative music and Ben flowed with it as Silvano worked. Sometimes he ordered Ben to 'freeze', at other times he asked him to move, to fall, to jump, to look straight into the lenses. Then he would change the light, the angles, the distances.
Between Silvano and Ben, the relationship became very sensual, but never sexual. Silvano respected the privacy of Ben's room. He never intruded while Ben was in the bathroom. Their days became a kind of quiet ritual.
Ben's excursions alone, getting lost in Venice were always fascinating. He was under the strange charm of the Venetian winter. The museums and monuments overflowed with beauty. Nothing in his surroundings could be considered natural. There was no rupture between art and the city itself. He noticed that Venice reflected itself in the dark waters of the canals. It too was a world of mirrors. He was lost in a dream, an obsession of self-reflection.
Every night, Ben's sleep was intensely filled with dreams of Caelan, and they often made love. It wasn't rare that Ben ejaculated in his sleep, awaking alone in the bed only to weep.
He wrote:
Caelan, my love!
Here, as I pose, I feel like not only my body is nude but also my soul. I'm losing myself and at the same time I'm finding myself a bit more every day. I can't describe the city, the artwork, the hours of wandering around alone, the mirrors everywhere. It's hard to write about the morning and evening work with Silvano. All I can say, dearest Caelan, is that you are with me every instant of my waking hours and I kiss you as we make love in my dreams... especially the wettest! I don't know how long I can bear this distance between us! It's torture being away from you and it's unbelievable being so near to myself. Have a warm Christmas!
And above all, remember that I LOVE YOU!
Your devoted Ben
Christmas day came and went just like another day. Silvano and Ben had been working together now for nearly a week. One evening, as Silvano was massaging Ben's thighs, preparing him for a series of shoots on the the theme of dance, Ben's mind wandered, drifting very far away. He was soaring over the loch, their island, Soran. He and Caelan were together, in the canoe, then in the tent. His daydream was filled with the sweet, familiar scent of his distant lover. He rolled his head to the side, and kissed his own arm, surrendering himself to Silvano's hands, breathing deeply on the verge of tears. Silvano continued to anoint Ben's thighs and crotch with the sandal scented oil and gently massaged them a bit deeper than usual. Ben was totally lost in his reverie with Caelan. When Silvano massaged Ben's perineum, precum began to flow. He began to tremble, moaning. Silvano saw that he needed relief and began to gently jack him, fondling his testicles. Ben writhed, uncontrollable, his mouth was agape and then in spasms, a massive orgasm shook him as the liquid fire of his soul spewed, gushing over and over.
Spent, moist and fragrant, he laid prostrate, gasping. Every fibre of his body was unraveled. Silvano grabbed a wad of tissues and gently wiped the semen off of Ben's abdomen. He noticed that tears were flowing from the lad's now open eyes. It was as if he were watching angels dance in space above him. Slowly the tears became muffled sobs, then he choked, turning over on his side weeping, uttering over and over, "Caelan... Caelan..."
Silvano carefully moved up closer to Ben and pulled him into his arms, cradling him, caressing his hair. This consolation brought Ben back to his senses.
Ben stuttered, "I'm sorry, Silvano... I don't know what happened. I'm exhausted, helpless and... and... I don't know what more. I'm so tired! Please forgive me, please..."
Silvano held him tight against his chest. Ben curled up closer to him. Silvano gently rocked him, saying, "Tell me about Caelan."
Ben suddenly stiffened, looked up at Silvano who firmly, but tenderly held him tighter. With a very trusting smile, he repeated, "Yes, tell me about Caelan."
Ben whispered, "Caelan -- Caelan is my best friend, my other self, my mirror and my love. We had to separate when I left for the university."
Then he began to speak louder.
"Silvano, I miss him so much. I suffer deep down inside. I need him so. We were going to spend Christmas together... and..."
"And you came with me... Where is he now?"
"He's with his family, on their farm in Poolewe, Scotland. That's where my mother lives too."
"Well, you must go to him now!" Silvano stated, kissing Ben on the forehead and pushing him up to sit on his own.
"What?" replied Ben, still a bit shocked.
"I said you must go to him on the first flight available. You must quit everything and go to him. That's above all the most important thing you must do -- and do now! He certainly needs you too, my dear Ben. Go, wash up, dress and don't leave the computer until you've found a flight. Trust me, it's the only thing to do."
Ben obeyed. As he sat at the keyboard, he remembered seeing announced a flight for Inverness on KLM while they were changing in Amsterdam. He checked KLM. He could leave Venice at 6:30 AM, change in Amsterdam and be in Inverness at 12:40. He would have ample time to claim his bags and be on the evening bus for Poolewe. He felt a surge of excitation rise as he exclaimed, "Silvano, I found a flight for tomorrow morning at 6:30. There's one seat left."
"Move over and let me handle this," stated Silvano.
In less than ten minutes, Silvano had bought the ticket, cancelled Ben's return ticket to Leeds and printed out the boarding pass. He then called the automobile taxi service in Piazzale Roma, and reserved a car for 5:00 AM.
"There, that's done! Now it's time to go to bed, don't you think?"
"Oh, Silvano... Thank you!"
"Ben, you have been wonderful, more than I hoped for. I have all the material I need for my next exhibit. Now you must make up your mind for yourself about YOUR future. It's the only one you have, and you must do it with Caelan. Am I right?" stated Silvano, hugging Ben, looking in his eyes.
Ben nodded then asked, "Can I sleep with you tonight, Silvano?"
"And wake me up at the wretched hour of four in the morning?"
"Yes, at four in the morning. Please... just tonight..."
Silvano woke him just in time for him to jump in the shower, dress and swallow a cinnamon roll with a glass of orange juice. They exchanged phone numbers, e-mails and even postal addresses, promising to keep in touch. Then they hurried off together to Piazzale Roma. The cab was waiting.
"Good-bye, my beauty! Have a safe journey back to Caelan!" stated Silvano, hugging Ben.
"Thank you so much for everything, Silvano!" shouted Ben out of the window of the cab as it sped away.
The flights were on time. Ben called his mother from Amsterdam. After landing and boarding the bus for Poolewe, he dreamt, staring through the foggy window into the passing night.
Ann was waiting for her son under the pale street lamp by the store. The bus finally pulled to a stop. Ben got off, tugging his luggage. They hugged for a long moment before getting in the car.
"Mum... I'm..."
"Save your talking for later, Benson. Just get used to being back for the time being," said Ann, as she caressed her boy's warm, moist cheek. They drove up to the house. Ben was totally exhausted, yet impatient to call Caelan and surprise him. As he put his bags in his old room, he noticed a double bed where his single one used to be. Strange... He was just standing there, trying to let his emotions settle, when the door chimes rang.
Ann sang out, "Benson! Could you answer? I'm busy in the kitchen."
He calmly went down the stairs, opened the door and gasped! There stood Caelan!
"Oh! Good God! Good God! Good God!" Ben grabbed him, screaming, and didn't release him as tears swelled and overflowed into the creases of his beaming smile.
Caelan wept too, managing to utter, "Your mother called... invited me for dinner... spend the night..."
"Oh yes! Yes! Good God, Caelan, I needed to see you so bad!" he sobbed.
"I need you too... I need you a lot!" whispered Caelan as he kissed Ben's neck.
"Now come on in and stop sniffling, you two! You have to eat! You'll get back to each other later!" interrupted Ann, clapping her hands and laughing, "and kindly SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!"
"Mum! You're the greatest!" exclaimed Ben as he held Caelan by the arm, going into the kitchen.
As they dined, Ben told them about Venice, the work modelling for Silvano. He simply concluded that now he knew he had to come back to Poolewe, for good!
Caelan talked about his job on the farm, about being a future uncle, and about having put the final touch on his new canoe, his cedar strip beauty.
They chatted on for a while until Ann said, "Listen boys, I'm dead tired, so take your time. Do you have to be back on the farm early tomorrow, Caelan?"
"Not at all, Ann..."
"Then, both of you, you should stay in late. I have to go to Gairloch tomorrow morning. You'll find all you need for breakfast on the table. Good night... and try to get some sleep -- if you can," she said with a coy smile, leaning in to kiss her son -- and then his very best friend.
Once alone in the bedroom, they snuggled up on the bed.
Caelan stuttered a bit as he asked, "Did anything happen, you know... between you and Silvano?"
"A lot and nothing. He made me grow and then sent me to you, Caelan... that's what happened."
"Well, he's a saint!"
"And you? You know... since I left?"
"Nothing but my new canoe," replied Caelan, with a shrug and a sheepish smile.
"Well, that being said, don't you think we've got some important business to take care of now?"
"I think so, now that you mention it!" quipped back Caelan with a glint in his eye.
Clothes flew everywhere as they laughed out of sheer glee! All pain had vanished, having dug their souls deep enough to contain an ocean of happiness. Tender was the night and wild the dawn!
They feasted on a full Scottish breakfast. As they were getting ready to return to the farm and then to Soran, Ben sent off a message to Silvano, saying that he had safely arrived and spent the night in Caelan's arms.
They climbed into Caelan's old pickup truck and were on their way to his house when Silvano's answer beeped on Ben's phone. It simply read: 'Be happy! The pictures I took of you here are wonderful! Keep in touch.'
Ben read it to Caelan.
"Sounds like a really nice fellow!" exclaimed Caelan.
"He is..." echoed Ben, smiling as he caressed Caelan's thigh.
The Christmas tree in the parlour was as beautiful as both Paul and Emily MacKenzie's smile. They repeated several times that Ben must feel at home under their roof whenever he wanted.
The boys were impatient to return and spend the night on Soran. They sorted out the camping gear, packed some food, tea and a thermos of soup in Caelan's truck. Then, they went into the shed to load the canoe on the pickup.
"Wow! She really is a great work of art, Caelan! I love her! I'm so happy to be on her maiden voyage."
"It couldn't have been otherwise, Ben!"
They slid the new canoe in the water, loaded it and climbed in. As they neared Soran, a gentle snow began to fall. They swiftly pitched the tent, lit a fire just in front of the open entry flaps, and inside, they lit the heater. Then they ran to the spring and filled their canteen. As they walked back to the tent, holding hands, Caelan said, "Now that you're back, I'll never let you go!"
Ben pulled Caelan to a stop and looked deep into his eyes, whispering, "Caelan, you never did..."
They drank sharing the spring water. Cuddling together in the entrance of the tent, they enjoyed the fire. It was already 3:30 PM. The deep winter night began closing in on them as their deepest lust rose.
Ben whispered in Caelan's ear, "I want you to penetrate me, empty your semen inside me while we kiss, while I look into the blue of your eyes. I brought some body oil to make it easy..."
"And me, some lotion! Ha!"
"My fair Fairy Prince, we are always in sync!" exclaimed Ben.
"I'm obsessed by the same need... I dream of your luscious cock pushing deep inside me, setting my body afire. Just be gentle..." confessed Caelan.
In the heat and glow of the twilight fire, their love finally found its way up into the body of each other, opening the way to lasting ecstasy, uniting their flesh and souls, moaning and sometimes gasping, kissing and laughing, undulating in perfect harmony, deep into the silent, crystal night.
After having given and received, they laid, spent, satiated and entwined.
"Caelan? It's stopped snowing and there's a sliver of light between the flaps of the tent."
The new moon was a silver sickle, abandoned in a field of stars... Oblivious to the cold, they scrambled out of the tent, both wrapped in a cover, and stood nude, enlaced, staring awestruck at the glittering sky.
"All of nature is twinkling -- just like us!"
"Not like us, Ben! With us -- and why not, because of us!"
Shivering, they crawled back into the tent and cuddled, buried under the covers. Caelan whispered, "I'm not sleepy anymore..."
"Me neither..."
Squeals of delight and gasps of rapture echoed over the waters. Alloyed in love, a new reality was now theirs to create.
From that night on, they were either in Caelan's room or Ben's every night. They spent New Year's with friends. They welcomed Ben back to the village and congratulated Caelan that his mate was back. It was now evident in the eyes of all that they were partners for good! As the month sped on, Ben helped Caelan, learning the art of a farmer's life. Ben requested Rachel to pack a box of his belongings and send them to Poolewe. Leeds was finished!
One afternoon, at the general store in Gairloch, Ben heard that the Visitor Centre at Inverewe Garden was looking for a part-time employee in the mornings for their gift shop. Ben went to the Centre and was informed that the job was from 6:00 to 9:30 AM. The person they were looking for had to clean the shop, replenish the displays, check the stock, compose the bouquets, and supervise the general atmosphere of the new installations before the opening everyday. He called Caelan who said he could drive him back and forth, since his chores also began that early. Two days later, he was hired. The surroundings, the people and the responsibilities suited him perfectly. Both young men were very happy with the situation. Now it became evident that they direly needed a space of their own.
It just so happened that one evening, when Ben was sleeping at Caelan's, Paul MacKenzie said, "Boys, Emily and myself feel that you two are taking up too much of our space. Ben could you call your mother and ask her to come over to the house? We've got some talking to do."
She was there just a few minutes later.
"Listen, Ann, seeing that our sons are either together in your house or in ours, and seeing that they really should be out of our houses..."
Ann interrupted, "I wouldn't put it that way, Paul, but you are absolutely right! Laundry, meals and the rest... They're no longer children! Emily, do you see what I mean?"
"Yes, I certainly do!"
Paul resumed his talk, "So, Emily and I have talked it over and here's our plan. Listen carefully to me, boys. I'd like you to tell us what you think about my proposition. Our cottage in the village... you know, the one where Greg and Helen used to live, is empty. That's not good for a house. So, we think it would be better for Caelan to move in with Ben, and fix up the cottage to their likings... Obviously they are now more than just good mates."
Ben and Caelan looked like morons, just sitting there, totally stunned.
Paul chuckled and continued, "Caelan, we ask you to continue working on the farm as usual and be paid consequently, just like Greg was. We count on you to keep the farm running. According to the last echogram, Helen is carrying a baby boy. The family name is now safe, because we doubt that you'll ever be a father..."
Caelan nodded, still unable to speak.
"Don't look so worried, boys. In fact, your situation isn't a problem for us. As far as we are concerned, you two simply make a pair. Nobody refers to you as being poofs, fags or even -- 'fairies'. We all know around here that the faes of the loch have cast their spell on some of the islands and that anything out there is possible," calmly stated Paul, then looking over to Ann, he inquired, "Do we all understand each other... and agree?"
"I certainly do, Paul!" exclaimed Ann.
There was a lot of hugging, and congratulating going on as Paul took out a bottle of fine, ancient aged whisky.
"Listen to me, you wild island rascals! Don't you think it's about time you learned how to drink like men?"
Caelan glanced at Ben. They winked and nodded together.
"Only if you insist, Dad!" laughed Caelan!
Ben spoke with his father several times since returning to Poolewe. When he told him of his decision to live with Caelan, his father simply replied, "If you're happy, I am too."
And happy he was! Extremely happy! He enjoyed his job in the mornings and the time he had for himself all day long afterwards was put to good use working on their cottage. Of course, whenever he was needed on the farm, he was there too. He learned how to sew curtains and bedspreads with Emily, drive a car, and tend to the sheep and fields with Paul and Caelan. As for Ann, she was now dating a gentleman Ben approved of: the assistant director of the Inverewe Garden. He wasn't exactly his boss, but almost. The fact that she had another male in her life relieved Ben, making him feel less guilty about 'deserting the house' as she once accidentally insinuated. In fact, she didn't seem too sad to have a home, at last, all by herself, doing only what she liked!
The first thing they did as they renovated the cottage, was to rid the cottage of clutter. It seemed like thousands of useless, obsolete objects had accumulated a bit everywhere. The attic was totally stuffed, as well as the shed adjacent to the cottage. The basic furniture was in good shape but needed to be scraped, sanded and refinished. They threw away some, gave away the pieces they didn't need or want to keep, choosing to keep the strict minimum: the big kitchen table and benches, the antique bedsteads, etc. They bought new bedding, did a general paint job, ripped out the old, filthy carpeting to uncover beneath, beautiful hardwood floors which they sanded and waxed to a gleam. New aluminium, double-paned windows replaced the old ones in all the openings. At the end, with a lot of work and especially, imagination, they had a very spacious, luminous, simple cottage, well heated with open fires and above all, a very enjoyable, new bathroom with a big, Italian shower and slate floors and walls. There was an air of sober newness throughout, an ideal space for work, rest and, above all, making love.
As they were finally equipping the shed, turning it into a workshop, Ben mentioned, "Caelan. I really want to learn your craft of building canoes. Could you teach me?"
"When do we start?" was Caelan's simple answer.
Ben discovered that he thoroughly enjoyed woodworking. Caelan coached him all the way through the building of a smaller solo canoe. Seeing how Ben was progressing, they had the idea that they could better their skill and sell their production, building custom solo and tandem canoes. Two months later they had created three canoes, two singles and one double. They took them to Inverness and showed their work to the manager of a big outdoors sports store there. He immediately put them on display and orders came as soon as the following week. They had work lined up for at least six months. Ben notified the Visitor Centre that he would be leaving the first of September and devote himself to the management and the co-production with Caelan of the 'Soran Canoes of Loch Maree'.
The sun was steaming in through the bedroom window. It was a Sunday and both had decided to sleep in late. Ben woke first and snuggled under the covers. He delicately began sucking Caelan's erection. He was rapidly gratified by an abundant flow of semen as Caelan held his head, caressing his hair.
Ben emerged, wiping a stray drop of cum off his chin. He whispered, "Happy anniversary, Caelan. I love you!"
"I'm still the happiest fellow on earth," uttered Caelan as he admired Ben's satisfied smile.
He gently pulled him up to his mouth and kissed him, then grasping Ben's drooling cock, simply said, "Ben, two years ago, you told me that you could make love to me all day long -- and all night too?"
"I remember that very well and I remember that we did just that!" giggled Ben.
Caelan then flipped Ben on his back, straddling him. Caelan grabbed the scented oil they kept in the nightstand and slathered Ben's cock, mixing it with their oozing precum. Ben was trembling in anticipation as Caelan positioned Ben's straining cock.
"Do you think we can do it again?" he asked, grinning.
Ben gasped as Caelan suddenly sat, undulating and squeezing his lover's cock deep inside him.
"Yes, all life long!" exclaimed Ben as they rolled over, united in motion for years to come.
THE END
A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at marin.giustinian@laposte.net.