Montgomery Hall

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Montgomery Hall
a continuing series of interrelated stories

Blue Morning Glory

By John V. O. Yager

The following story is a work of gay erotic fiction dealing with sexual relationships between men and boys of high school age. If such stories are not to your liking, or if you are not of legal age to read such stories in your jurisdiction, please exit now.

This is a work of fiction and in no ways draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.

This work is copyrighted (c) 2001 by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

This is the sixth in a series of interrelated stories appearing under the collective title, Montgomery Hall. While it is expected that the individual stories will stand independently, they should be more enjoyable if read as a group. If you wish to receive e-mail notification of subsequent posting, please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below.

jvoyager@hotmail.com

* * *

Tim had gone to the bathroom and came back into the bedroom just as Ben knocked on the door of the White Room. The boy looked over at Martin, who still lay naked on the bed.

"Shouldn't we pull on shorts or something?"

"No, just stay the way you are. It'll please Ben no end that you're that at ease with him."

"I'm not sure I am."

"Fake it," Martin said with a grin and then in a louder voice called, "come on in, Ben."

There was a pause as Ben turned the door knob and then pushed the door open with his foot. Seeing him struggle with a big tray, Tim immediately bounded over to help, almost forgetting his own nakedness.

"Can I help, Ben?" he said as he approached the door.

"Yeah, boy, thank you. I left a pitcher and glasses on the table in the hall."

Ben proceeded into the room, put the tray on a table by the bed and turned to see how Tim was coming. "You gentlemen gonna eat at the table like civilized humans, or just loll on the bed as you is?"

"Bed, definitely, Ben. Sorry if it offends your sensibilities."

"No difference to me."

Tim arrived with a second tray, this one holding a large pitcher of fresh lemonade and three glasses, each filled with ice.

"I see you did as I asked and made enough for yourself as well," Martin said, acknowledging the third glass.

"I did as I was told but I feels like I'm invading your own private time together."

"Nonsense, Ben."

Tim was not sure what was expected of him but got back on the bed and propped himself next to Martin. He felt very exposed, but took comfort in the fact that Martin was also nude and Ben was nearly so.

"Were you ready for bed, when I called you, Ben?" Martin's question was, at least in part, a recognition of Ben's dress. The older man was wearing only a pair of white pajama bottoms, which were cut full, leaving room for his ample equipment. But above the waist, his muscular body was bear. Below the waist there was only symbolic cover, as the white fabric was so sheer that his dark skin shown through. It was clear that the man was monumentally endowed.

Ben placed the tray in the center of the bed and handed each of the others tall cool glasses. Then once their immediate needs were seen to, Ben pulled over a chair from the writing desk and sat down.

Tim took a sandwich from the tray and started to bite into in. Then he remembered Ben's insistence on praying before lunch and moved the sandwich away from his mouth and asked, "is anyone going to pray before we eat?"

"Ben?"

Once the simple grace was said, the three them dove into the plate of sandwiches.

"I think this boy has worked up an appetite," Ben commented as Tim dug into his third sandwich,

"That right, Tim," Martin teased, "you still hungry?"

Tim caught the double meaning of Martin's question and grinned. Ben thought he understood what Martin was suggesting but chose to remain silent.

"Well, Ben, Tim and I have made some real progress. I guess you could say we have covered several of the basics. Still have a ways to go, but we are progressing. Wouldn't you agree, Tim?"

Tim toward Martin with a questioning look on his face. What was Martin trying to do? Tim felt uneasy and betrayed. Why was Martin insisting on embarrassing him like this? Why was he embarrassing Ben, who was clearly as ill at ease as Tim.

"Yes, Martin, I guess so, but.... "

"Yes, Tim? 'But,' what?"

"I just don't understand why you're doing this."

"Doing what, Tim?" Martin asked, his voice suggesting complete bafflement."

"This," Tim said, gesturing toward Ben and then placing his free hand on his own chest. "Not wanting us to dress, insisting on bringing Ben into it, all this."

"Are you embarrassed, Tim? Us being naked in front of Ben, me making comments that suggest that you an I have been having sex, is that embarrassing you?"

"Yes, very much." He paused and then added, "I guess I'm also hurt. It seems as if you are doing just what you told me I mustn't do. You know, talking about our friendship, all that."

"Oh, I see. You are still thinking of Ben as being outside our little circle and you think Ben is embarrassed because it looks as if I'm sort of flaunting our sexual relationship."

"Yes, I guess."

"Are you embarrassed, Ben?"

"Well, yes, got to say as I am."

"Why is that, Ben? Didn't you want this to happen? Didn't you more or less talk me into it after I'd decided it was too risky, too complicated?"

"Yes, I did that, as you is saying."

"And what did you want to come out of it, Ben? What good did you expect would come from it?"

"I just wanted this sweet boy, as reminds me so much of you when you was his age.... "

"You just wanted him, Ben?"

"No, Martin! I never meant that. I just wanted the best for him, wanted him showed the way things is all natural, gentle like. I didn't want his spirit broke or, Lord help us, his body hurt."

"And all that was to come of me having sex with him?

"Yes, best as I could tell."

Then turning back to Tim, Martin said, "Is that what you want, too, Tim?"

"Well, I guess I wouldn't say it quite the same way, but yes, I guess that's what I want."

"Then why don't you try to say it in your own words, Tim? Tell me, and Ben as well, what it is you wanted, what it is you want?"

It was clear that Tim was on the point of tears. "I just wanted," he started, trying to regain control of his emotions, "I just wanted someone kind and gentle, someone who knew what sex with another man was all about, to show me, introduce me... you know, teach me."

"And you still think that person is me?"

"I guess so. I'm really confused."

Martin put his arm around the boy and drew him into a warm, sheltering embrace. "Ben told me that's what you wanted, what you needed. And I said I could do that, be that kind of guide and teacher for you."

They were all three silent as Martin ran his strong hands over Tim's back, comforting him.

"Why don't you tell Ben what you said you wanted after we'd eaten, Tim."

"Please, Martin, don't do this." Tim's voice was no louder than a whisper but both Martin and Ben heard it in the quiet room.

"Yes, Martin," Ben agreed, "I have never seen you like this, you ain't cruel, boy."

"I hope not, Ben. Now, Tim, tell Ben what you said you wanted."

There was no more resistance in him as Tim said, "I wanted you to fuck me."

"Wanted, Tim, past tense."

"No."

"You still want it?"

"Yes."

"Then say it."

"I want you to fuck me."

Looking from the boy over to Ben, Martin said, "Is that what you expected, Ben? Did you assume we'd get that far? That Tim would want me to fuck him, take that much more of his innocence, his virginity?"

"I didn't quite know."

"But you could have guessed, right, Ben?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, then. It seems to me that the two of you have been in a sort of collusion here. Maybe you didn't talk it out. Maybe you didn't talk at all, but you've both been working toward the same objective, wouldn't you agree, Tim, Ben?"

Both the boy and the older man nodded their silent agreement.

"So it seems to me that we have a kind of three way game going on here, whether we like it or not."

Ben lowered his head and looked rather guilty. "I is sorry, Martin. I guess you thinking I was just using you."

"No, Ben. You gave me a choice. You presented your reasons and I accepted them."

"What are you saying, Martin?"  Tim asked.

"Tim, remember me suggesting that after I go back to New York you may need someone you can talk to, someone who would understand what you are going through?"

"Yes."

"And who did I suggest might fill that role for you?"

"Ben, you suggested Ben."

"How do you feel about that idea, Tim?  Do you think Ben here could be the kind of advisor you may need?"

"Yes."

"Than why don't you ask him now if he would be willing to listen when you need to talk and give you the benefit of his wisdom when he can."

"Would you, Ben?"

"Boy, I'd do anything I could for you."

"Well, then," Martin said. His voice carried the tone he had often used when he had brought legal clients to a moment of reconciliation. "But I think there was one other question you'd wanted to ask Ben, wasn't there, Tim?"

"Martin!"

"Is okay, boy. You can ask me anything you want."

Tim was silent until Martin raised an eyebrow and said, "it won't be any easier later, Tim."

"Well, I was just... I mean, I wanted to know and Martin said I'd have to ask you.... "

"Yes, boy."

"Yes?  You are gay, Ben?"

"I is answering you, Tim, yes, I is, as I never loved a woman that way in my life and them as I have loved, them I love, is men."

Tim, still being held close by Martin, pressed his cheek against his chest and sighed. Then Martin asked, "Ben, when I was Tim's age, had you determined that I was gay?"

"Such as, Martin, I had."

"Then why didn't you do for me what you see as being so important for me to do now for Tim?"

"I guess as how I didn't think it was my right."

"But you said you were coming to love Tim the way you'd always loved me."

"That's so."

"I have a feeling, Ben, that I would have had a much easier time of it if you'd been able or willing to be a teacher and a guide for me back then."

"You know those was different times, Martin. And you own daddy was alive and I didn't see as how he'd stand for old Ben taking you under my wings and all."

"Because you're black, you mean. We might just as well say it, Ben."

"There's that."

"Did you think I couldn't love you like that because your skin is darker than mine?"

"Well, no. I know you loved me same as when you was a baby and I took care of you like you was my own."

"Well then, I guess if I'm insisting on complete honesty on Tim's part, I own him equal honesty on my own."

"Is you sure, Martin?"

"Yes, Ben. I'm sure. Tim, look at me." The boy raised his head and looked into Martin's face. "Tim, last night Ben and I engaged in some rather intimate physical behavior."  There was a pause while Tim thought about Martin's admission. "Does that surprise you?"

"No, I guess not. You had sex?"

"Well, no, not in the usual sense. Would you call it sex, Ben?"

"Well, such as how we was lying together and our bare bodies was touching and it was enough for us to get ourselves over the edge, so to speak, I think as how we'd have to call it sex."

"You're an honest man, Ben. No attempt to dissimulate."

"Well, Tim, we didn't do as what most call sex, not all the way, but close enough."

"And the rest of it, Tim, is that I asked Ben here to fuck me before I go back to New York."

There was silence all round.

"Now you are shocked, Tim."

"No, not really."

"Can you imagine it, Tim. Can you see why I would want Ben to fuck me?"

"Yes, sure I can. He is a beautiful man."

"Did you hear that, Ben? Tim says you're a beautiful man. I couldn't agree more."

Silence fell again in the room as the light outside began to fade and the sounds and fragrances of the Mississippi summer evening closed in around them. Martin held the boy to him and felt his body relax into sleep. Ben slumped in his chair, happy to watch the two of them together, happy that Martin had broken down the walls, forcing him to come into their circle.

"And as to your other comment last night, Ben, I think I have that figured out."

"You do then, Martin?"

"Yes.  If I'm right, I should have been calling you Uncle Ben all these years."

"Well, that is how it is, Martin."  They slipped into silence again and Martin determined from Tim's breathing that he must be asleep and hadn't heard any of these comments.  "You remember my mama, Martin?"

"Of course I do.  I loved her, too, Ben."

"But you never knew you grandpa."

"No."

"Well, he was always good to me."

"Does mother know you're her half brother, Ben."

"Maybe she does, I ain't ever been sure, but wouldn't make no difference any how."

"I'm glad you told me, Ben."

"Seem like you ought to know, for we do something."

"Well, I meant everything I said last night, Ben, and this doesn't change a thing so far as I'm concerned."

"I reckon not, but I'm glad you know."

"Me too, Ben."

After a while Tim stirred. He rolled over away from Martin and then sat up. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Not all that late, Tim, just a little past nine."

"I guess I fell asleep."

"Yes, it's been a rather tiring day. We have to be up at seven. Do you just want to get to bed and save any further adventures until tomorrow?"

"No," Tim said, rolling out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom. "I still want us to do it, you know, I want it tonight."

When Tim had closed the bathroom door behind him, Ben rose from his chair. His body was stiff and he stretched to get his muscles loosened. Martin didn't comment on the prodigious bulge in Ben's light cotton pajamas.

"I gonna go, Martin," Ben said as he placed the remnants of their meal back on the tray.

"Sure, Ben?  You're welcome to stay/"

"Yes," he said with his usual sweet smile, "I'm sure. You do good by that boy now."

When Tim returned he asked about Ben.

"He left us, Tim."

"He didn't have to go."

"I told him that. Would you have been okay with him staying?"

"Yeah, I would. At first I was really upset with you, but then I saw how there really was more here than I first thought. I think I sort of worked it out in my sleep. Now I sort of wish he was here. I would seem kind of right to have him with us."

"Shall I call him back?"

"Would he come?"

"Yes, if I asked him. Especially if you asked him, too."

"But he'd be uncomfortable, wouldn't he?"

"Probably, but he'd come."

"Well, no. Don't call him then."

"Come here, babe. I want to fuck you."

A big grin spread across the boy's radiant face and he bounded onto the bed. "Well, it's about time."

Martin was a little rough as he pulled the boy's beautiful body over onto the bed and positioned him to his liking. Tim didn't resist as Martin spread his legs and knelt between them. He only moaned as Martin rocked his muscular legs back up over his body, holding them with either hand as he pushed his knees nearly to his shoulders.

With Tim now fully exposed before him, Martin dove for the boy's hard, pulsing cock, taking it into his throat with practiced ease. Tim gasped, finding himself engulfed in the warm, wet channel.

"Oh, god, Marty," the boy moaned.

Martin was relentless, merciless. He kept Tim's cock deep in his throat, bobbing only slightly in short, almost rough strokes, forcing the ridge of the enflamed head back and forth in almost violent motions over the ridge at the back of his throat. The reaction was not surprising. Within a minute or less, Tim was shooting his load deep into Martin's throat.

"Oh, god." Tim panted, his beautiful torso, rising and heaving with the impact of the climax. "I thought you were gonna fuck me," he panted.

"I am," Martin smiled as he rose from Tim's still enflamed dick. "Ever had a blow job before?"

"No. I can't believe it."

"Can't believe how it feels, or that you never got your dick sucked before?" Martin smiled down at the boy, still splayed before him.

"Both," Tim said, almost in a whisper. He was still breathing very hard and Martin found him unbelievably appealing as his lovely body glistened with a thin sheen and his muscles flexed and relaxed with the after shocks.

"Well, prepare yourself for another first, babe. I'm gonna eat your cute ass."

"Oh, god," Tim gasped as Martin proceeded to do just that. With the same suddenness with which he had attached his dick, Martin now descended on his tight pink pucker. He dove onto it, placing his open mouth over the hole and running his tongue around it, leaving it wet and pulsing, wanting more, wanting everything.

Martin pushed in a little and felt Tim willing himself open. The bud of his ass twitched as his wet tongue circled it and them pushed in, circled and pushed in again. Keeping up that action, repeating it, finding each time that Tim was just a little more open to him, he quickly opened the boy's virgin hole until with no difficulty at all, he was able to slip his tongue in to the hilt and begin the slow rhythm of the fuck. He pushed his tongue in as far as it would go, pulled it almost all the way out and then thrust in again. With each thrust Tim's body pressed against Martin's voracious mouth, moaning with his growing passion.

Tim's chute was open now, wet, ready. Martin crossed the boy's ankles and managed to grasp them in his left hand, holding them in position while freeing his right hand to take on other tasks. He backed off a little and pressed one finger into Tim's ass with ease. The boy moaned again and moved against it, trying to impale himself still more. One finger gave way to two as Martin pushed in as far as he could and then rotated the fingers, spreading them a little as he did so, opening Tim up to him still more.

"Yeah, Marty, I got to be ready now."  Martin continued with his manual explorations, ignoring the boy's begging. "Come on, Marty. I want your cock. Please, Marty, please man, just fuck me."

"Shut up and enjoy it, boy," Martin said with a slight smile. His own passions were mounting but he was enjoying this too much to hurry. He knew the longer he kept Tim this excited, the more the boy would enjoy it when he did get what he wanted. Martin wanted this to be the best possible experience for Tim and was going to do everything in his power to make it so.

Martin pulled his fingers from Tim's throbbing ass and then reentered using three. This took work, the boy was tight and Martin wanted to be sure he was really ready for what was coming before he tried to enter him.

"Relax, Tim, you can do it," Martin encouraged as the boy's ass clenched.

"Man, what have you got in me, Marty, your whole hand?"

Martin smiled, "You aren't that far advanced yet, buster."

"It feels like a fucking bulldozer."

"You got three fingers so far and you know how big my cock is. You aren't open enough for me yet, but we're getting there. Loosen up now. Just relax and let yourself go. Think about how my dick is gonna to feel in you ass, Tim. Just met your mind float and I know your body respond. Trust me, boy, you can do it. I know, I've been there."

"Ah, yeah," Tim moaned as his ass, did, in fact, open a little more to Martin's labors.

"That's it, babe," Martin encouraged. As he pushed in a little further he again brought his mouth down to Tim's now flared ass and probed with his tongue between and around his three thrusting fingers, adding needed saliva to lubricate the work at hand. It wasn't long until he had his fingers in as far as he could reach. He could feel the throbbing of Tim's sphincter subside and he began to rotate his fingers, loosing the virgin muscles still further.

"I think we're there, Tim. Are you ready for me?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Okay, can you take hold of your legs and hold them up where I have them?"

"Sure," Tim said, doing as he was told. As Martin moved away from him and swung around to set on the side of the bed, he started to complain. "You're not going far are you?"

"Not going anyplace, just getting supplies I have here in the bedside table."

"Condoms?"

"Yeah, and lube."

"Is that necessary?"

"Probably not, I've been tested regularly and I'm always very careful."

"So this is were I get the 'Safe Sex' lecture."

"No lecture, just safe sex. If you want I'll give you the lecture later."

"But you really want to use a condom, Marty? I want to feel you blasting in me, man."

"Not your call, lover. You're too precious for me to take chances."

"Well, okay then, but get it on and get your cock in me."

"Moving as fast as I can, boy. You just relax and enjoy the ride."

"Oh, I am."

Within a few more seconds Martin had the latex sheath in place and himself again in position. "Now, let me take your legs."

He transferred the weight of Tim's legs to his own shoulders, freeing both the boy's hands and his own. Then with great care, he worked a considerable quantity of lubricant into Tim's gaping ass.

"Oh, that's cold," Tim complained.

"That's okay, I'll warm it up for you in just a second." Marty spread a generous coating of the lube over his condom covered cock and then positioned it's head against Tim's waiting ass. He pressed in a little, just enough to let the boy feel what he had in store.

"Mmm," Tim moaned.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yeah." He wiggled his ass a little, trying to get more of Martin into him. "You can't believe how long I've wanted this."

"Well, you know what they say, sonny, 'All things come to those who wait.'"

"Yeah, 'All GOOD things.'"

"Just hold that thought," Martin said as he slowly leaned forward, thrusting his cock into Tim's waiting ass.

"Oh, yeah, oh, fuck, yes," Tim murmured as the full length of Martin's cock slid into him.

Once in, Martin lowered himself onto Tim's muscular body, pressing them together, and waited for some signal that the boy's body had come to terms with the invasion. Tim's breathing slowed and his pulse, which Martin could feel against his own chest, began to even out a little.

"You okay, boy?" Martin whispered, his lips against Tim's right ear.

"Oh, yeah. I'm doing great. This is just so awesome. It's, I don't know, its...."

"Yeah, Tim, tell me. Am I hurting you? Is something wrong?" Instinctively Martin began to withdraw a little, not wanting to do anything to harm Tim.

"No, please, don't pull out. It just feels different than I expected."

"Okay, though?"

"Yeah. It's great, but odd though."

"How is it different than you expected?"

"I don't know." Tim waited a moment and then went on, almost in a whisper. "When you sucked my dick and then when I sucked yours, it was just the way I expected it to be. More intense, but the way I expected."

"This isn't?"

"It feels so, I don't know a word for it. Overwhelming, maybe."

"Overwhelming?"

"Yeah." He paused again the then drew Martin to him with even greater insistence, his arms locked around the older man's torso, his legs now locked around his buttocks. "I feel so full, Martin, so full of you."

"And you didn't expect that?"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I expected to feel stretched, you know, but this is so much more."

Martin continued to hold very still. "More in a good way, Tim?"

"Oh, it's wonderful." His voice was very weak now, a barely audible whisper. "I feel so full of you." He paused again, then after a moment said, "Oh, Martin. I feel you in me, not just your cock in my ass, but like all of you had come into me, moved into my body, made me so completely yours." Another pause and then he added, "I feel so loved by you."

Martin kissed him gently on the lips, a chased kiss, a gentle loving kiss.

"I think I understand now, Martin."

"Yes?"

"It's so much more than sex, isn't it."

"Yes."

"I don't want this to ever end."

"Just lie very still and let me show you more," Martin said as he raised him self up a little. Supporting his weight on his arms positioned either side of the boy's beautiful torso, he withdrew a little and then thrust slowly in.

The boy moaned and his body lifted a little off the bed.

Martin repeated the process and felt Tim's legs move around him, locking with still greater force, holding them in a tight bond and having the further benefit of changing the angle of Martin's cock just a little.

Martin pulled back and thrust forward again and felt the head of his cock ride over the boy's prostate. He had been looking directly into Tim's eyes as he did so and saw them open widely in astonishment. "Oh," Tim moaned.

Martin did it again. This time the boy was prepared but no less stimulated by the pressure of Martin's cock on his prostate gland.

"That's wonderful."

"Yeah," Martin whispered back. "That's that little hot spot I was telling you about."

"Does it work for you like that?"

"Yes, sure does."

"You like getting fucked, Marty?"

"With someone I really care about, yes, I love giving it and taking it."

"So good," Tim murmured, "It just feels so right, so good."

Martin settled into an easy rhythm riding the tempo of Tim's body, adjusting to his own unique rhythm. It would be hard for him to make it last but he wanted it to, both for Tim's sake and for his own.

Tim's angelic face took on a distant look as Martin kept his movements slow and regular. They slipped into a kind of stupor, knowing it couldn't last for ever, but not at all anxious to hurry things along. After many minutes, Martin began to notice slight changes in Tim's responses. His body was rising up more now to meet Martin's thrusts. His eyes were wide open now and he was staring deeply into Martin's. It was obvious that the end was in sight.

Tim's mouth came open. He was almost gasping for air. Martin tried to rise up a little, to take some of his own weight off the boy, but Tim held him tight, pressing the full weight of Martin's hard body down onto his own, even as he used every ounce of his own strength to meet each stroke.

It couldn't last. Martin knew he, himself, was very close. Both of them were drenched with sweat, even in the cool twilight of the cavernous room.

Then Martin felt it, a slight jolt in the boy's pelvis. Their normal rhythm returned and then the jolt again. Tim's eyes were wide open and fully dilated. His mouth was gaping and his nostrils were flared like those of a stallion on the last lap of a race.

Martin felt another jolt, different this time, and Tim's cock erupted in the hot, sweaty place were their hard abdominal muscles meshed together.

"Ah, Marty."

Was it a question? Martin didn't think so. His own brain was in overload. He felt the hot lava spread over their stomachs and then the muscles of the boy's ass clinched. It was too tight, too painful as Martin's cock was squeezed to the point or rupture. Then he too exploded.

Tim's body tensed as if he were in some catatonic seizure. His body came up off the bed with super human strength, every muscle tense to the breaking point, his back arching and his hips thrust up as his cock erupted again and again and with each eruption came a corresponding tightening of his ass, sending Martin's own body into answering spasms of delight.

How long had it lasted? Martin wondered later. At such moments the normal sense of time just doesn't count. He felt the boy relax under him, felt his body go slack, as if all the tensions of his sixteen years had been drained, subdued.

Martin tried to roll off Tim's body, to allow the boy to breath. But Tim wouldn't allow it. His surprisingly strong arms were locked around Martin's torso, pressing their bodies together. Tim's legs were locked behind Martin's hips, his heels pressed almost painfully into the older man's buttocks.

It wasn't until Martin realized that Tim had slipped into a stupor or a faint, that he tried again to liberate himself from the boy's grasp. Tim's legs fell away. Martin lifted himself a little and felt Tim's hot, sweaty arms slide down over his sides. Martin rolled on to his back and then put one arm under the swooning boy and pulled him to himself. Tim's head rested on Martin's chest and his body curled against him.

Martin managed to liberate the sheet a little and pull it up over them. Tim's breathing subsided and he was asleep.

Martin lay awake for a long time in the gray twilight of the room, staring up into the high open beams of the roof. They had left the bathroom lights on and the door not quite closed. A bar of stark, white light fell across the room making ghostly shapes in corners and along the far wall.

Eventually Martin also slept. But it was a shallow fitful sleep and he woke often, feeling the weight of Tim's body on his arm. He didn't move for fear of waking the peaceful boy, but his arm cramped and his mind continued to play games with him. He dreamed and the sleeping dreams merged and cavorted with the shadowy forms along the way.

Martin felt as if there was a host there watching them, marveling at their love.  They were not malevolent witnesses, but Martin knew they were there. Among the shadows he say a young man he knew was his uncle, David. Standing by him was Martin's own father, younger than Martin remembered him, an arm thrown over David's shoulder, both of them and all the rest, watching Martin and the boy, sharing in some sense their love.

It was a little past five when Martin stirred again. He had rolled over on his side but now rolled onto his back again. The room was becoming light. He looked over to find Tim, one arm bent at the elbow, supporting is lovely head, as he looked down at Martin, a gentle smile on his handsome face.

"Morning," Martin whispered. He didn't try to speak out loud.  He didn't trust his voice to do so.

Tim lowered his face to Martin's without speaking and kissed him gently on the lips. Then the boy snuggled up against Martin again and resumed the position Martin remembered him in when they had gone to sleep last night.

They were silent for awhile, then Tim spoke, whispered, really. "Martin, can I ask you something?"

"Uh huh," Martin responded.

"Do you believe in God?"

"Yeah," Martin managed and then cleared his throat. "Yeah, Tim, I do."

"Do you think he hates us? Will he send us to hell?"

Martin was shocked by the boy's question. He rose up a little, forcing Tim up with him. Looking into the boy's deep blue eyes, he said, "what bigot put those thoughts in your head?"

"Some guy I heard on the radio."

"Did you believe him?"

"I didn't.... I don't want to." Tim pulled himself up and leaned back against the headboard of the big bed. He looked rumpled, his blond hair laid over in a major cow lick on the left side and the front spiked up to a peak. Martin couldn't help think how adorable he looked. Both he and Martin were still naked and it was obvious that their sexual appetites had not been completely assuaged.  Two prominent erections tented the disarranged sheets.

"Morning Glory," Martin smiled, giving Tim's hard cock a little squeeze through the fabric.

"Yeah, I always wake up with a boner. You, too, I see," he grinned.

"Yep, not every morning like it was when I was your age, but having such a cute guy in my bed guarantees it." They both starched and Martin reached over and pulled the boy' head over onto his shoulder. "Look, Tim, there are always going to be people who'd rather hate than love.  They'll try to tell you they 'love you but hate your sin.'  I've never been sure how they separate you actions from the rest of what and who we are."

"Yeah, I know that. I keep my mouth shut at school because I know most the guys on the football team would probably beat me to a pulp if they knew I was gay."

"Probably a wise move, keeping your mouth shut, I mean," Martin tried to make light of it, but Tim wasn't going to be distracted from his questions. "Has this been worrying you for long?"

"Well, sort of. I knew I was gay, but it was sort of academic. I hadn't done anything, you know."

"Yeah. And now you have."

"Yeah." He paused and then quickly added, "oh, Martin, don't misunderstand. I wanted to do everything we did last night. I've wanted to do it for a really long time. It's just that now that I have done it, it sort of makes it real, being gay, I mean."

"I'd say so." Finally Tim gave Martin a little grin.

"But to answer your question, no, I guess I don't believe what that bigot was saying."

"Were you listening to the sermon Sunday?"

"Yeah, I was. I really liked that one, but Joe usually gives great sermons."

"'Joe,' my we are informal."

"Well, you know when he first came, he was Assistant Rector and in charge of the youth program. The kids got to know him real well and he always told us to call him Joe. I guess now that he's the Rector, we should stop."

"I don't think he minds. Look, Tim, in those youth group meetings, was this kind of stuff ever discussed."

"Oh, yeah. I was really ill at ease when it first came up but after Joe did a three-part program on sexual orientation and tolerance, I relaxed with it and I made me feel a lot better about myself."

"Did you ever go in and talk with him alone, about yourself, I mean?

"No, but I thought about it. I know I could and he'd be fine with it."

"Maybe you should, Tim, now that you've more or less confirmed for yourself that you really are gay."

"Maybe I will. I guess if I did, though, you'd not want me to tell him about, ah, you know, you and me."

"Mmm. That probably wouldn't be too good an idea. Just talk about yourself and don't bring anyone else into it."

"Chicken?"

"Probably. But you remember our conversation last night, right?"

"Yeah, I was just kidding. I really do understand."

"So what did he say, specifically?"

"Well, you know, that we are all created by God, each one of us special, each one of us really unique. He said we were the way God made us and that God doesn't make mistakes."

"He didn't try to tell you sexuality is a mater of choice and that you could choose to change?"

"You got to be kidding."

"No, I'm not. A lot of people, especially a lot of conservative people really believe that. Whenever I confront one of those guys, I like to ask, "does that means he could change, too? Could you just choose to be gay one day and wake up gay the next?"

"What do they say," Tim said, and it was obvious he was really amused by it.

"Haven't found one yet that said, 'sure, I could change.' They all go into this routine about how God intended them and all people to be straight and they could never be gay. It's always clear that the whole idea really offends them."

"But you have them backed into a corner then."

"Yeah, I sure do and I always love that moment of truth when I point out that if they don't think they could change and that God made them the way they are, the same really might be true about a gay man or a lesbian as well."

"But I bet it doesn't get them to change their minds, really."

"Probably not, but maybe it makes them think just a little."

"How do you answer all their comments about the Bible condemning homosexuality?'

"Well, almost all of those references are more a question of interruption and translation than some commandment written in stone. I suspect if there are any which aren't open to very different interruption, they can be shown to be mainly cultural. Remember, the ancient Jews were a nomadic people. The needed to build up their population and often replenish it after they had most many of their men in wars. The idea of a man not doing his part was not acceptable."

"And things are different now?"

"Well, we don't exactly have a population shortage. I'd definitely say the pressure if off. I'd bet that within another generation or two, the most conservative groups will have reached some sort of accommodation on homosexuality just the way they have on the role of women in the church or remarriage after divorce, or half a dozen things."

Tim grinned and said, "But in the meantime, we get all their shit."

"Well, Tim, it really is getting better."

"That guy I heard on the radio was also saying that one proof of the ungodly nature of homosexuality was the very small number of same-sex relationships which last any time at all."

"I wonder if he ever thought one reason gay relationships may not last is because of the social pressures from people like him?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Tim. Most of the gay men I know would really love to be in a long-term committed relationship with a man they really love. It isn't all that easy, though."

"Why not, do you think? I mean, they say all relationships are really hard work, but why would gay couples have a harder time than a straight couple?"

"Well, social pressures, for sure. But remember, gay or lesbian couples don't usually get together to have kids and raise a family. I know, a few do, and the numbers are rising, but most of them go into a relationship for companionship. Well, maybe they go into it because of love or pure lust, but if they stay in for the long haul, it usually settles down to companionship."

"Isn't that a kind of cynical take on things, Marty?"

"Probably. Maybe I've just seen too many of the poster boys for long-term gay relationships split after the new wears off."

"Well, maybe that brings to the other point that radio preacher was making."

"Which was?"

"Gay promiscuity."

"Oh, yeah. That's always a good one."

"You don't think gay men are more promiscuous than straight guys?"

"Oh, I'd never argue that. I mean, most young single straight guys just want to get laid, same as the gay guys. But once the nesting instincts kick in, the straight guys at least have social conventions and religious pressures to keep them more or less in line. I guess I just don't think monogamy is the natural state of male human nature. Besides, the main reason society has pushed of monogamy in the straight world is to make sure the kids are raised by more or less responsible parents and to make more or less sure that those kids belong to the people they are supposed to belong to."

"You really are cynical, man," Tim grinned.

"No, Tim, I'm really not. I have a lot of faith in human nature. Did you know there have been a lot of societies, perfectly stable societies, which taught 'reproductive faithfulness?'"

"I guess I can guess what that means."

"Sure you can, you're a bright kid."

"Have kids by only your wife or husband, but fool around as much as you want as long as it doesn't lead to other kids being born out of the marriage."

"I've known Ph.D. candidates who couldn't have said it as well."

"So are you're saying that since pregnancy isn't an issue with gay couples, the 'reproductive faithfulness' issue just gives them free reign to be as promiscuous as they want?"

"I didn't say they had free reign. I just mean they don't have to worry about that issue."

"But they do have to worry about other issues, right?"

"Sure. If they want some stability in their lives, they probably start thinking about the nesting thing, too. And of course, since the AIDS thing, there's been a huge reason to get into a faithful relationship and stay there."

"So why aren't you in a faithful relationship, Marty?"

"If I said, because I haven't found the right man, it would sound trite."

"More like a cop-out." Tim looked over at Marty, "I'm sure glad you aren't in a faithful relationship, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I guess if you were you wouldn't be in bed with me."

"And you're glad I am in bed with you?"

"Yeah," Tim grinned.

Martin leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Thank you."

"Oh, no, Marty. Thank you."

"Okay, enough moral philosophy for one morning. It's six thirty and the other members of our chain gang will be here in an hour.

"oh, man, don't remind me. I just want to stay in bed with you all day."

"Oh, yeah? Does that mean your ass is in fair shape?"

"Well, I guess I'd have to say it's sort of tingly."

"Interesting. Tingly, does that mean it doesn't hurt."

"Well, you know, it's like you feel after a big game, maybe a little banged up, but that never kept me out of the next game before."

"Good boy. Shall I take some condoms with us to the shower."

Tim cute grin spread across his handsome face. "Yeah, if you want."

"Slut!"

"Fagot!"

"Well," Martin smiled as they rolled out of the huge and very rumpled bed, "at least we understand each other."

"You can fuck me in the shower if you want, but I'd really rather you just suck my dick and leave my ass alone 'till this afternoon."

"I think that could be arranged, Mr. Arnold."

"Thank you, Mr. Cutler.

As it turned out, they both got their dicks sucked in the shower, which slowed down the process somewhat. They made it to the kitchen just as Dave and Monty came in from the front of the house, their mother just behind them.

Dave and Monty seized on the possible significance of both their Uncle Martin and Tim coming from the direction of the White Room. Dave caught Tim's eye and looked up toward the ceiling, toward the second floor where the other bedrooms were located.

Ben, always quick to cover for his boys, said,  "Well, Tim, thank you for going for Martin. At least there are some people who get up without having to be drug out of bed."

"Morning, Carol Ann. Morning, boys," Martin managed to say without a grin. Then before the conversation could take any awkward turns, he went on, "Tim and I got the fourth rose bed done yesterday after you boys left, so we're starting this morning right on plan."

"Well, that was good, Martin," Carol Ann said. The boys and I were afraid we were putting too much on you and Tim with my two taking off every day at noon."

"We did fine, Carol Ann, and I'm sure we can hold to the pace all week."

"Well, good then. We were going to offer to cancel the boys tennis and swimming lessons for the rest of this week if you needed them to get all the work done."

"Oh, no. You needed do that. If we can all four work as well each morning as we did yesterday, Tim and I can get the fourth bed done on our own with no problem at all."

"Okay then, boys," she said to her two older sons, "I guess I'll pick you up at eleven thirty again."

"Yes, ma'am," both boys said in unison.

"Good-bye, Ben, good-bye, Martin. I'll see you all later then," and with that, she was on her way back through to the front hall. Her departure was further announced by the closing of the big front hall door.

"So, you boys had breakfast?" Ben asked Dave and Monty.

"We ate at home but we could maybe eat a little more."

"Well, let's get down to it then."

With no further delay he reached into a warm oven where he'd been stockpiling a huge platter of pancakes.

"Get you self's to the table and get going with these. They's bacon coming and the syrup is hot. Martin, you say grace while I gets you coffee."

They made even better progress than they had done the day before. By eleven thirty the four of them had nearly finished the fourth bed and it was clear Martin and Tim could complete the planned objective within a short time in the afternoon.

During the morning both Monty and Dave used every chance they got to get Tim's attention. As soon as Martin and Monty left together to take their first load of clippings and old mulch to the compost heaps, Dave was asking Tim questions.

"So, did you really sleep in the upstairs bedroom last night?"

"I slept were Ben put my stuff."

"So nothing happened?"

"What do you mean.?

"I mean, you and Uncle Martin, did you swim naked together again?"

"No, Dave, we didn't."

"Oh, man. Monty and I just knew you'd get him to do it."

"Well, you know, Dave, your uncle is a private kind of guy."

"Yeah, I know, but he went skinny dipping with you Saturday. It's not like you haven't seen his stuff already."

"Well, maybe he just wants to spend some time along. You know, just rest or something. He is on vacation, after all."

So when the boys were ready to leave at eleven thirty, Martin said, with all innocence, "Tim, we made so much progress this morning, maybe you and I should just keep working and get a fifty bed done this afternoon. You know, so we'd have a head start tomorrow."

"Sure, sir," Tim replied before both Dave and Monty could object.

"No," Dave said, speaking for both his brother and himself, "we decided yesterday we'd not try to get ahead. You guys just finish the forth bed and then relax." He looked at Tim and added, "maybe you'll have time for a swim."

"Well, we'll work it out," Martin stepped in. "You boys just get out of here and enjoy your tennis lessons."

"Yeah, right," Monty complained. "It would be fine if we could just play tennis, but that teacher at the club is a real Nazi."

When they had gone, Martin could not help but comment, "I guess Monty's class must have been studying the Second World War last year."

"Yeah, I guess so," Tim grinned. "Did he give you the third degree when you guys went to the compost heap?"

"Did he ever. He asked me so many questions I thought I'd have to gag him."

"Or just stuff some of that compost in his mouth."

"Not a bad idea," Martin smiled. "Now, let's go eat. We don't want to keep Ben waiting."

"Yeah, eat, get the fourth bed done, and then I think I've got something I'd kind of like to stuff in your mouth."

"Oh, the boy is getting sassy."

"Do you mind?"

"No," Martin said, giving Tim's back side as sharp slap, "in fact, I kind of like it."

They ate on the verandah again, they had the day before. After lunch Martin and Tim went back to the roses and had the fourth bed done by two thirty.

"So, what now, sir?" Tim said as the finished putting the wheel borough and tools back in the workroom.

"Well, Mr. Arnold," Martin responded, we can head back to the White Room and do our stuff."

"Sounds great to me."

"Well, actually, I have an another idea."

"If it doesn't involve sex, I'm not interested."

"Oh, I wasn't ruling out sex, I was just going to suggest another location."

"Variety is the spice of life?"

"Something like that. Come on, we both stink." Martin grabbed a somewhat used bar of Ivory Soap from the side of the sink in the garden workroom and headed out through the greenhouses. "Come on. First stop is the lake. You game for a little skinny dipping."

"Oh, yeah, I loved it. Are you going to fuck me on that floating dock?"

"Ha, ha. Come on, young man and find out for yourself. And by the way, that 'sir' stuff only works when the other guys are around."

"Maybe I should start calling you Uncle Martin when we're working with Dave and Monty."

"Don't over do it, buster."

They jogged to the lake, stripped on the dock, and dove into the surprisingly cool water. Martin treaded water while he lathered himself up with the soap, even using it to give his hair a quick shampooing.

"My turn," Tim called, holding up his hands to catch the soap.

"Come and get it." When Tim swam toward him, Martin grabbed the boy's arm and swing him around into a sort of lifeguard carry with his left arm clamped around Tim's chest. "Sucker!" Martin said, playfully and began to lather Tim's hair as he had done his own.

"Think you won, huh?"

"Thought so."

"Wrong," Tim said laughingly, "I just wanted you to get your hands on my hot body."

"Oh, there he goes, getting cocky again."

"As a matter of fact.... ."

"Oh, there he goes, getting horny again."

"Yep, right both times," Tim teased. "Do I get to wash you once you've had all you want of my sexy, boyish body?"

"Won't happen."

"You won't let me wash you?"

"No, smart ass, I'll never get enough of your sexy, boyish body."

Tim struggled but managed to turn around it Martin's strong grasp. When he succeeded in facing him, he gave Martin a serious look and said, "really?"

"I'm thinking about it."

Before Martin could secure his grasp, Tim broke away and swam with considerable speed toward the floating platform. He pulled his lilt body up just in time to avoid Martin's final grab for his leg, and then turned and defended his new territory as Martin tried in vane to climb up after him. When Martin did a graceful surface dive and disappeared under the water, Tim moved to the center of the float so he could quickly move to any new point of attack. Instead of trying to catch Tim off guard and climb onto the float at a point Tim wasn't guarding, Martin came up under one corner of the float and began to rock it, forcing Tim to crouch down to keep from loosing his balance.

"Won't work. I'm king of the float and I'll defend it against all comers," Tim yelled in Martin's general direction."

The rocking stopped and there were several moments of silence. Then from under the planking, Martin's voice emerged, now quiet and reasonable.

"Well, if military action won't work, how about negotiation?"

"A peace offer?"

"Sort of."

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, how about one blow job in exchange for permission to board?"

"I would say, oh, let's see... how about a blow job and a fuck if I let you up?"

"I am up."

"Me too. I guess we'd better call a truce." There was a splash as Martin again submerged and then resurfaced at the ward side of the float.

"Permission to come aboard, sir," Martin said with a sputter.

"Permission granted, but what's this 'sir' stuff, boy?"

"Well, I guess I just got carried away by your defensive talents."

"I usually play offense, but I think I could enjoy any position with you."

"Does that only include bottom, or have you considered top?"

"Haven't thought about it."

"Well," Martin said Tim extended his hand and helped him up onto the float, "maybe you should."

"I will. But right now I'd just like to collect on your peace offer."

'First I'm going to finish washing you off."

"Oh, yeah? Where's the soap?"

"Right over there," Martin said, pointing to the white bar bobbing just a foot or two away from the float. He reached down and retrieved it. "Come here," he said, and Tim did as he was told. Martin ran the soap over the boy's golden skin, working up a rich lather, which he then worked over his chest and arms and down to suds his hard cock. "Turn around," Martin said, his voice now low.

When he had completely covered Tim with soap suds, he gave his own body a little more washing, especially in the area of his crotch.

"See that old tower back from the shore?"

"Yeah, I've been wondering about that."

"Well, come on. We'll swim back to the dock and get rinsed off in the process." Martin wound up like he was pitching a baseball and threw the soap toward the dock. It fell short and skipped across the water and lay floating, waiting for them to retrieve it,

"From the looks of that pitch you must have played baseball as well as football."

"Still do. Come on," Martin said as dove in. Tim quickly followed and the race was on. It seemed as if everything they did together turned into some sort of competition.

Martin grabbed the soap and tossed it onto the dock as they climbed out into the warm afternoon air.

"I was surprised how cool the lake water is and now the air seems even hotter," Tim said as he tried to dry himself a little with his damp T-shirt.

"Yeah, the lake's spring fed. It stays cool all summer. Come on, just leave the soap with our clothes, nobody will bother them." With that he started walking, still completely naked, down the length of the dock toward the shore.

"You just going like that, buck naked?"

"Sure. Who's to see us?"

Tim jogged along to catch up, a very pleasing site as his young body bolted forward to close the ten or fifteen yard lead Martin already had established.

"Well, who is to see us, Marty?" Tim said as he caught up.

"Maybe a few of the lawn crew if their mowing in this area today, nobody else."

Once Tim was even with him, Martin slowed down to a fairly normal pace. "You really are okay being naked like this, aren't you, Marty?"

"Sure, I love being nude. Do it every chance I get."

"In New York City that must be quite a crowd stopper."

"Yeah, they line up on the adjacent roof tops when I strip off to sunbathe on the top of my own building."

"You're kidding, right."

"Nope. Not about sunbathing naked on the roof."

"Man, and I get embarrassed just being naked out here in the woods with nobody around."

"Well, you shouldn't be. You're beautiful, boy. Let the whole world see."

"Yeah, right." Tim looked on ahead and began to realize the tower was further back from the shore than he had first thought. "How far is that thing, anyway?"

"Not far, come on."

As they approached the tower, Tim saw that he had been wrong about it's size as well as its distance from the lake. At they got closer, he saw that it was really quite tall, not just some sort of miniature garden ornament, but a real building.

Martin led the boy over a little foot bridge which spanned one of the spring fed creeks which ran into the lake, then on up to the base of the structure. "It's called Dalton's Tower," Martin said. "It was built by one of my distant uncles, the younger brother of my great-grandfather, I think."

"Wow," Tim said as he looked up at its imposing height. "Gee, Martin, it looks like something out of a medieval romance."

"Yeah, it really is amazing, isn't it?"

"I completely miss judged it from the lake. I thought it was sort of a toy."

"No, it's a real building, a real functional building."

"Now old is it?"

"Dalton started it in 1887, but he had to stop twice. He just managed to finish it about a year before he died in 1902. The story told to us when we were kids was that he never got to go up to the top of it."

"You said it was functional. What is it for?"

"Well, not functional in the way you mean. It doesn't do anything, but it is a real building." Martin had gone over to the door. Beside it was a little wooden plaque, which he opened to reveal a niche in the stonework behind it, and hanging it the niche, an old iron key.

"Oh, man," Tim said, "that's so cool, right out of a mystery or something."

Martin put the key in the door and turned it easily.

"Must have been opened recently. I expected it to grown and squeak," Tim grinned.

"Well, actually I was up here Sunday afternoon."

They went in and Tim noticed that Martin closed and locked the heavy plank door behind them, leaving the key turned in the lock.

"Oh, yeah, why'd you come up here then?"

"You'll see. I figured I might bring you up here so I sort of laid in a few supplies."

"Man, you think of everything."

"Well, I try. And you know, Sunday afternoon I wasn't even sure I was going to let you talk me into this."

"Coming to the tower? That was your idea," Tim grinned.

"No, dumbbell, having sex with you."

"Oooh."

"Don't play cute with me."

"But I am cute, Marty. You told me so."

"Well, get your cute ass up those stairs. Let's see how you are at aerobic exercise. And I'll warn you, buddy, there are a lot of them. It's equal to a six story building."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and you'd better watch your step. These old stairs are very irregular."

They climbed flight after flight, Tim ahead, Martin behind, looking up at the boy's amazing backside. Martin didn't like admitting it, even to himself, but his legs began to shake a little as they reached the fourth of the six levels. Tim, he noticed, took the stair in easy stride, showing no signs of fatigue at all.

When they finally reached the top, they stepped out into a little room from which they looked down on the tops of trees and back over the little lake and the gardens and then, far in the distance, Montgomery Hall. Tim made his way around the wall, looking out each of the narrow windows in turn. Martin followed him, enjoying the boy's pleasure as he looked out at the views. As he came to each of the eight windows, Martin hinged it open. The windows were very narrow. Martin had always assumed they had been built that way as a safety percussion. They were so narrow that not even a child could squeeze through them, precluding accidental falls or attempted suicides. While the windows were each very narrow, collectively they let in a surprisingly cool breeze which aired out the little room and made it quite comfortable.

"This is amazing, Marty. Why did Dalton build it in the first place?"

"Well, I suppose it would have been called a Folly in England, but it really is something more," Martin said. "I guess it was intended to be a sort of romantic retreat. This little room must have been intended as a place for a romantic rendezvous."

"I feel like a character in an old legend or something. You gonna keep me prisoner here? You know, tie me up and do unspeakable things to my innocent young body?"

"No, that isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh, shucks, Marty, come on, please."

In the center of the chamber there was a raised stone platform about a foot high and six feet in diameter. On it lay a thick pad, almost a mattress, covered with dark green fabric, and on it a collection of pillows of various sizes and shapes. Tim dove onto the pad and rolled onto his back, puling one of the largest pillows over on to his chest and hugging it to himself.

"Well, I don't really care what you want to do, Marty, as far as I'm concerned, in this cool a place, anything goes."

"Don't tempt me, Timmy, you might get more than you bargain for." Martin laid down by the boy and pulled him over. "Because of this room Dalton's masterpiece has a lot of names."

"Oh, yeah, like what?"

"Oh, 'The Trysting Tower,' for starters. At least that's what the adults always called it when us kids were around. My brother and I always called it 'Dalton's Dick.'

"Well, all I can say," Tim laughed, "is that I never say a bigger one."

"I guess big ones sort of run in our family."

"Yeah, I noticed," Tim grinned as he reached down to grasp Martin's rapidly growing cock as it prodded his own playful tool.

Martin rolled over onto the boy, penning him to the dark green pad. Tim moaned and immediately wrapped himself around the older man, using his arms and legs to hold their bodies together.

"Oh, god, Marty, I want you in me again."

"I kind of thought you might."

"Don't mess around. Just fuck me, please, man. I don't want to wait on all your preparations and I don't care if it hurts. Please, just shove your cock in me and fuck me hard."

"Not so fast, Timmy. I'll spare you the whole treatment if you want, but we do the safe sex thing. Come on, let me up."

"Oh, man," Tim moaned. You make this so complicated."

"Won't take but a minute." Martin rolled off the stone platform and went to a small chest by the top of the stairs. Within seconds he was back with condoms and lubricant and a couple of towels."

"That your Boy Scout stuff?"

"Yeah, the things I left Sunday afternoon."

"You were confident, weren't you."

"Well, like you say, boy scout stuff."

"Yeah, be prepared." Tim let out a long breath as Martin's cool lubricated finger pushed into him in one easy thrust. "Oh, yeah," he whispered.

"You are open, boy. Somebody been fucking you?"

"Why, yes sir. I got me a lover with a big ready dick, been pounding my sweet ass real regular."

"Well, see if you're ready for this, stud." Abruptly, Martin withdrew his single finger and without the gradual build-up from one, to two, shoved three stiff and well lubed fingers into Tim's already well dilated hole.

"Yesss!"

"Oh, he likes it."

"Love it, man. Yeah, open me up."

Tim had spread his legs and bent them at the knees, drawing them up. Martin moved into position and lifted the boy's legs up onto his own shoulders. As he did so, he continued to piston three fingers in and out, pushing more and more of the lubricant into Tim's wide open ass in the process.

"Oh, yeah, Marty, open me up. What you got in me now?"

"Three fingers, kid. Think you can take four?"

"Take four, want four. Let me have all you got."

"Maybe we need to move you on to toys, boy, you like this ass play so much."

"Oh, yeah. I know about that shit."

"Internet education again."

"Yeah, made me crazy, looking at those pictures and reading stories and stuff."

"You open up like this and you'll be taking Ben's big log."

"Oh, man! I figured he must be huge, watching his crotch last night."

"Yeah, he's definitely big."

"Do you think it's true, Marty? Do black men have really big dicks?"

"Well, Ben does for sure.   But I think a lot of that's just racial stereotypes.  Ben's just Ben.  He's got a big dick, as big as I've ever seen, but I've seen a couple of others just as big and they were on white guys.  I kind of think a lot of black guys just hang longer than us white boys do, but when we're all hard, the diferences sort of even out."

"Growers and showers, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess you've seen quite a few of both in the locker rooms."

"Yeah."

Martin began to twist his fingers, spreading the lube and loosening Tim's willing muscles still more. "You're open wide enough to take Ben now, Tim. Does the idea turn you on?"

"Yeah, makes me crazy."

"Maybe I'd better ask him to come to the White Room later this evening. What do you think?"

"Would he do it? Would he fuck me?"

"I don't know. It took some talking but I got him to promise he'd fuck me before I leave for New York."

"Oh, man, that feels to good. Can you come in more?"

"Any more and I'd be fisting you and I don't think you're ready for that."

"Oh, I'm ready. Can't you just push in a little more?"

"How about I put my dick in you instead?"

"Oh, yeah. Do it, Martin, please."

Martin pulled his fingers out of the boy's widely spread ass, wiped himself off on one of the towels and moved his condom covered cock into position. As soon as the head of his dick made contact with Tim's scorching ass, he felt as if he was being pulled in by a very strong vacuum. There was no hesitation. He sunk in to the hilt, feeling his body pressed against the boy's in seconds.

"Yeah, fucking yeah," Tim muttered. His head went back and his legs and arms locked around his lover. It was clear that he was experiencing nothing but pleasure as he began to hump up, driving the full length of Martin's cock into him.

There was little subtlety and no attempt on either man's part to prolong their pleasure. Their passions were too strong, their yearnings too great. Within a minute at the most, Tim's lock on Martin's body increased and his body came up off the pad, clasped in a muscle wrenching seizure of pure lust. His heels dug into Martin's back and they both lost it.

Their bodies convulsed with their shared climax, jolting again with successive waves. "Yes, yes, yes," Tim hissed and his muscular young body convulsed with the intensity of his orgasm. Martin felt hot lave jolt from the boy's cock, so hot it almost felt burning on his own stomach and chest.

Then it was over and Martin collapsed, making no attempt to spare Tim the full weight of his body. Locked in that position, they slept.

When Tim awoke the sun had moved around to the west, casting long beams of light across their bodies. At some point Martin had rolled over and was now beside him and Tim remained on his back, looking up into the roof above them, forming a sort of steep eight sided pyramid.

Martin stirred and Tim reached out to stroke his muscular shoulder.

"Umm, that feels great," Martin said, still half asleep.

"Martin, you awake?"

"Kind of."

"How big is Ben, anyway?"

Martin rolled over on his side and propped his head up on one arm. "You mean his dick, I guess."

"Yeah," Tim smiled, looking a little embarrassed by his question.

"Well,  he's sure bigger than me."

"I'd say you're plenty big enough."

"Yeah?  Well, thank you very much."

"But you really think you could take him?"

"Let him fuck me? Sure. I'd have to be really opened up first, but my ass has taken bigger than that before."

"I thought you said Ben was as big as you'd seen."

"Yeah, he is. But you can get fucked by things other than dicks."

"Are you talking about fisting?"

"Yeah, and toys."

"Oh, man! That whole thing scares me to death."  Then he grinned and added, "but the idea of it gets me so hot, all at the same time."

"Well, buddy boy, don't you even think about getting into that scene any time soon."

"You said I could take Ben."

"Well, I was just kidding. Mine's as big as you get for the time being."

Tim laughed. "Well, having had sex for the first time yesterday, I guess I can wait." He leaned over and kissed Martin on the cheek. "And, believe me, you are plenty big enough for me for a long time to come."

"Well, thank you very much. Gonna keep me, huh?"

"As long as you'll let me, as long as you'll stay." With that seemingly casual comment, a sort of cloud descended over them as they both realized that in just a few days Martin would be returning to New York.

After a few moments, Tim said, "Marty, can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, anything."

"Well, two things, actually."

"Shoot."

"I did," he grinned.

"I remember, now ask your fucking questions before I sock you up the side of your cute head."

"See, there he goes, getting violent again."

"You ain't seen violent yet. Come on, get with the questions."

"Okay." He paused. "This is embarrassing."

"Tim!"

"Okay, okay. Back on the dock, you said, you could never get enough of my sexy, boyish body."

"Yep, I said it and I meant it."

"But you're leaving, Martin."

"Yes, Tim, I'm leaving," he reached out and stroked the boy's chest. "But I will be back."

"Not very often."

"No, but now and then."

"And when you're back in New York, are you going to have sex with some other guy?"

"Probably. Do you want me to lie to you and say I won't?"

"No. I want you to tell the truth." He paused again and then asked, "do you want me to wait for you, Marty, do you want me to not have sex with anyone else, you know, wait 'till you come back next time?" Tim was silent for a moment as Martin stared at him, not knowing quite how to answer. The boy had become too important to him for the older man to risk hurting him. Tim took Martin's slowness in answering as a sort of answer in itself and went on, "if you want me to wait, I will. I'd promise not to be with anyone else if that's what you want."

Martin realized he'd better jump in here, but do so as carefully as possible. "Has it occurred to you that you might find a boy friend? You know, someone nearer your own age. And if you did, it would probably end anything between you and me."

Tim looked at him silently for several minutes. Finally he said, "I don't know if I want anyone else."

"Tim, I really care about you. In fact, if I haven't already fallen in love with you, I know I could very easily. But I'm not sure that would be a very good idea for either one of us."

"I know I love you, Martin."

"Tim!" He took the boy in his arms and hugged him to his chest, feeling the warmth of his perfect body against his own, feeling the youth and innocence and the sheer joy of his existence. "You don't know what a wonderful gift you are giving me." He kissed the boy's hair and stroked the golden skin of his muscular back. "I just don't want you to get hurt. I had such reservations about this before we started it and it could get so far out of hand."

"I can't control how I feel about you."

"I know that. I guess I just wonder if what you feel is what you think it is."

"Love? I know it is."

"Tim, one thing you learn about sex, one thing I learned from my first experiences...." He paused, trying to weigh his words with great care.

"With James, right?"

"Yes, with Jimmy. I guess I just as well be open with you about it, but I don't want you to talk about it with anyone else."

"I know. I understand."

"Okay. Well, let me see if I can say this. What I learned was that when you care for someone, really like them as a friend the way I liked Jimmy, or maybe the way you liked me as a kind of older guide, a teacher, maybe, or the way I liked you... remind me, why did I like you?"

"Yeah, funny, Marty, you liked my sexy body and my cute virgin ass."

Martin gave the boy's bare backside a sharp slap, which earned him a 'whoop' and a giggle.

"What I liked about you was your freshness and your intelligence and your vulnerability." He paused, then added, "and your sexy body and your cute virgin ass."

"Okay, you liked me. Got it, so then we made love."

"Did you hear what you just said, Tim?"

"Yeah, you liked me and then we made love."

"We 'made love.' We didn't 'have sex.' See the difference?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Well, it's a very big difference. And what I guess I was trying to say is that when you like someone, for whatever reasons, and then you make love with them, I think something very deep goes on."

"Bonding?"

"Yeah. So much more than just the physical stuff, the sexual act."

"So that's why I love you."

"Yes. I won't try to say it isn't love. In fact, I feel very honored that you feel that way." He paused again, running his strong hand, his football player's hand, over the boy's muscular body. "Have you stopped to think that no matter how many men you may be with, for as long as you live, Tim, I will always be your first."

"Yeah, I have. And I like the idea very much. No matter who I may be with I'll always use you as the standard, the comparison." He lifted his head from Martin's chest and kissed him deeply on his warm, inviting lips. It was a kiss of love and caring. There was passion there, just below the surface, but for now they both understood that the kiss was about so much more than sex.

"Thank you," Martin whispered when their lips parted.

They lay together, lovingly, protectively sheltered from the world and all the hurts and disappointments it might hold. The afternoon light raked at an increasingly steep angle across their golden bodies, highlighting their golden hair.

At last Martin rolled over a little and looked into the deep pools of the boy's eyes. "You know, we aren't going to resolve all this now."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well then, let's agree we'll enjoy the time we have together and leave the rest along for now."

"Yeah."

"Hungry?"

"Just tell me which body part I can munch on and I'll dig in."

"Might I suggest Ben's cooking instead?"

Tim grinned as he rose up. "I thought you were going to offer me one of Ben's body parts."

"Ha. Not mine to offer, buster. Come on, let's go."

Martin rolled off the bed and wrapped the used evidence of their presence in a tissue to take away with them. At the top of the stairs, Tim paused and looked around the little room.

"Quite a place, huh?" Martin said.

"Yeah. I'm so glad you brought me here."

"I have a feeling you'll be back."

"With you?"

"Maybe. Maybe with someone else."

"Well, I was here first with you."

Martin gave the boy's ass another sharp slap. "And don't you ever forget it."

"Yes, sir," Tim responded with his inevitable grin.

To be continued.