My two weeks off were quickly coming to an end. I had packed a lot into those two weeks and my life was about to change. After our run, Pete suggested I start moving in. We finally decided I should go grab what I need and use the second guest room as my storage space.
Pete joined me at the old farmhouse. The guys were relaxing in the living room, reading the Sunday paper over coffee, we grabbed some mugs and joined them. Pete took control as usual. "Guys, Kyle is moving in with this old fart. I don't know when he lost his mind, but I asked, and he agreed."
"You guys can continue to live here while I remodel it" I added. "And don't worry, Pete is the only free labor, everyone else will get paid."
"Who says I'm free, I am gonna take that ass as payment" Pete said.
"We can negotiate that later, but right now I need to start packing."
"No, take a coffee break with us boss, the packing can wait" said Charlie. "I'd be sad, but it is not like we are going to miss you, you are only a few blocks away, plus you will be overseeing the remodel."
We sat and talked through the plans. I let the guys know that I was open to their suggestions and they were more than willing to offer them. I still needed someone who would have an overall vision for the place, but the welcoming, lived in look from my dream would be the goal.
When the coffee ran out, I started to pack. I went down to the basement and found some of the old moving boxes I had left there. I decided that I would bring only the essentials. I already had some clothes at Pete's from my two week vacation, so work clothes were needed. I disconnected the computer, the guys could use the one I gave Charlie, then I loaded that, and the essentials into Pete's Ram.
We just as quickly unloaded the truck. I filled what I could into the drawers in the other bedroom, then set up my computer near Pete's. I fired it up, got caught up on my email, then sent out a "Welcome back to work, let`s hit the ground running" email to my team. I don't know if any of them caught the change in address in my unofficial letterhead, but it was significant to me.
When I got downstairs I saw a note from Pete.
"Meet me in the sauna"
I walked downstairs, removed my clothes and grabbed a towel. I made a mental note to do laundry, the weekend had done a number on our linen closet. When I got into the sauna Pete was up in the corner, his back resting against the side wall. I got on the wide planked tier and fell into his arms.
"Welcome home hubby" he said as I dozed off.
I was awoken by my phone ringing. Could it be Fred? Tempted already? I got up to answer it.
"Hey, I hope you remember me, but this is Wayne, Wayne Johnson that trucker you met on Christmas Day." I'm stranded up on Thompson Hill, there has been an ice storm and the local hotel is booked up, not that I could get there if I tried, it is so damned slick out there."
I remembered Wayne, and I remembered the little show we put on for him on that trip home. Slipping him my card was an afterthought, but it was paying off today. "Wayne, yeah I remember you, how could I forget you. Stranded huh, let me check things out with Pete, but I think we can help you out. I'll call you back at this number.
Pete and I quickly dressed. He knew an alternate route up the hill that should be safe to drive in the slickest of weather. He also called Angelo who assured us this route was already salted and safe. We got a hold of Wayne and told him to wait, we'd come pick him up.
Pete and I took our time. Slick conditions for driving in a town built on a hill are nothing to take lightly. A five minute trip was closer to fifteen on the way up the hill. Wayne hadn't been idling his rig due to concerns about fuel, so we found him inside the rest stop. The highway patrolman there urged caution, but Pete talked the trooper through his route home.. Wayne promised the trooper that we would be back as soon as it was safe to get his rig.
With all bases covered, we started slowly down the hill. The ditches were littered with cars. The added caution took another twenty minutes, but we arrived home safely.
We gave Wayne the five cent tour of the place. You'd have thought he was in an amusement park when he got to the lower level. The sauna, sling and especially the portable glory hole caught his eye.
"Wanna join us in an steam? That is what we were doing when we got your phone call."
"That sounds right neighborly of you Kyle. I think I will take you up on your offer."
I grabbed one of the last towels, then showed Wayne where he could undress. Pete and I got out of our clothes and found a spot on the top tier. Wayne joined us shortly and soon was covered in a layer of sweat.
We relaxed for a few, quietly enjoying the therapeutic heat. Wayne spoke up. "Can I ask a favor guys? Can I sit between you, show you my gratitude?"
Pete scooted over, "Be our guest" He didn't leave much room so Wayne was snuggly sitting between us. Wayne started to massage my thigh. The truck driver's hands were talented and large, almost the size of Pete's
He moved his hand up my thigh, massaging as he went. His other hand found the spot on Pete's shoulder, Pete's quick gasp let him know he hit pay dirt. With that he put all of his attention on Pete.
"Gotta taste this" he said as he throated Pete's dick. Pete shivered again. Had our truck driving good buddy found that spot on Pete?
"Oh yeah" was all Pete could say as Wayne coddled his dick in his throat. Wayne quickly repositioned himself to get between Pete's legs and take the dick deeper yet, down his throat. Pete shivered again.
Wayne steadied himself with one arm, and then gave me an invite by reaching back and pulling his ass apart. I got up, nudged his legs apart further, and placed my mushroom head at his hole. Wayne backed onto my dick as he introduced even more of my husband's dick to his throat.
Wayne mumbled a muffled "Fuck me" while Pete filled his mouth. It didn't take long before I filled the truckers ass. My cum spurt out with so much force I could feel it backfire on my belly.
"Whoa" Pete said, waking me up "You just had an handless geyser. That must have been some dream for you to shoot that way."
I looked at the mess. Cum was dripping all over my chest, a large pearl was still clinging to the head of my dick.
"Any ice storms in the forecast?" I questioned Pete.
"None that I know of, anything in your dream I should be worried about?"
"Nope, but if we get a phone call from that trucker Wayne, we should take it."
I let it go at that. My dreams were too detailed lately. This was one of the few that didn't involve Fred, which gave me hope, but it matched any of the others for their eroticism.
We left the sauna, showered quickly, then while I started a load of towels, Pete made a late lunch. Our after-lunch snuggle on the sofa was interrupted by a phone call from Brent. His friend at the Duluth News Tribune had contacted him, because a local architect saw the `70's wrestling feature in the paper and wanted to visit Pete's house. This architect shared Brent's love of mid century architecture and was surprised that the house existed.
We agreed to meet Brent and Van on Wednesday. Brent was acting like a fan boy, he was very impressed with this man's ability to bring a modernity to humble architecture. I was blown away, it sounded just like how I described my house in that future dream. I suggested we go out to dinner, and that Gino could join us. Maybe I could hire Van to work through my plans.
We adjourned to the bedroom early that night. Pete got all sentimental on me, holding me as tears came to his eyes. "Our house babe. Our house" he said as he held me tight. "I wonder what our first night together will bring in the dream department. I have had as much sex with you lately while you sleep as when we're awake."
There were no memorable dreams that night. We got up early, did a quick run, then I dressed for work. My team members were all reenergized from their time off and got back into the stride of things. No one mentioned the change in address, it was business as usual.
I got home and found Pete prepping the evening's dinner. I went up to the office to check email, and noticed a calendar on the wall, there in green were the numbers 1 and 2.
Smiling, I quickly checked my email, then thought I'd clear Pete's junk mail folder. I noticed a email from JRed24. The subject was a simple one: Hey Sexy. Could it be Justin, or just a standard spambot email? I left that one, closed the computer down, and then went down to dinner.
We ate dinner while watching Antiques Roadshow. Pete and I made a game of seeing who could come closest in the appraisals. I had a feeling this would be our Monday night go-to. We had almost declared that Tuesday night was our night out with the guys for Happy Hour. Were we already getting into boring routines, or just living the life of a happy couple? Time would tell on that question, but at that moment I was beating Pete at the appraisal game.
Pete started to go over a checklist in his head. "I guess we'll have to put our workout room toys into storage before we give this architect the grand tour." I can put the sling into the closet, but that would leave the anchor bolts there. I don't want to go through the hassle of hiding those every time we have guests. I probably should have thought that through a bit more before I put up the sling huh?"
"Ignore them, or put up a punching bag. Of course you could put up some hanging plants, maybe in macramé plant holders, really play up the 70's vibe."
Pete laughed. "I'll pass on the macramé plant holders. The wife had them throughout the house, but I killed them off one by one. You know a punching bag or two might make a good workout however. I'll look into it. But still there is that portable glory hole, I suppose I could store it in the garage, but when are we ever going to use it again?"
"Bring it to my place tomorrow. We can put it in the basement and use the wood for the remodel. Wait." I ran upstairs to the guest bedroom and found a small box. I snagged my last extra set of keys then walked downstairs and threw them to Pete. "Here you go babe, your keys to our second home." Pete glowed at the simple gesture. "Come here" he said, his arms outstretched to greet me. I landed on the sofa and fell into his embrace. "It will be fun redoing that home together while we make our new home here."
It was easy to dream about our future at that moment. I felt safe in his arms. I was certain our love was the perfect foundation for a life together. The TV was just background noise, so Pete clicked it off. The subdued lighting in the living room put the focus on the serenity of nature that was perfectly framed by the large wall of windows.
A gentle snow started falling, quietly picking up in intensity. Angelo's headlights signaled his duty for the night. Our on-call snowplow driver was heading in. "Maybe we should go to sleep early in case the drive takes longer tomorrow" Pete said, ever prepared.
I was more than happy to oblige. We found ourselves spooning, my dick nudging his hairy ass. We woke up to a mirror image, Pete spooning me. His breath was hot on my neck, his dick slipped between my legs. "Gotta get moving hubby. Too bad we don't have the time." He punctuated that last sentence by nudging my hole. I opened up for him, a few inches went in. "Don't tempt me" he said then withdrew and bounded out of bed.
He pulled me out of bed and we walked to the window. Six inches of fresh snow covered the rear deck. Driving would be fine, but I decided to leave early, taking advantage of the extra time. We had an efficient shower which for us meant we kept the grab-ass to a minimum, yet found the time to be intimate. One quick and hearty breakfast replaced our morning run, and I was off to work.
I had a morning meeting with Jean to go over some business details. We quickly caught up on our post vacation agenda, then Jean quizzed me. "Do I have to change the your permanent address on our files?"
Jean had caught that subtle change to my emails. There was only a few digits difference in the address, but it was significant to me. "No, the other house is still my legal residence, but this is where I will be living in the future."
Jean offered a handshake. "Congratulations, you two make a great couple from what I can see."
I shook her hand, then gave her a hug "You don't know how much this means coming from you" I said. "You'll have to join us at happy hour one of these Tuesdays."
"Not tonight, it's date night, but I will take you up on the offer."
I made it through the day, then rushed home. I found Pete in the office, he was reading his email. Pete was still pretty much an internet virgin, so I sat with him as he went over all of the junk email he had. I had to explain the concept of spam, and what type of emails to avoid.
"What does this one mean?" he said as he opened one from JRed24
Daddy
C U @ Happy Hour tonight? No Rodney, so I'll be DTF.
Cubbie
Was Pete really that naïve? I explained the internet short hand, what the @ symbol meant, and that DTF meant down to fuck. Pete almost was apologetic that he shared the email with me, He clicked it, thinking he had erased it, but I knew the reality of the junk email file. I would have to explain it to him, but that would be another day. I changed quickly from my work clothes, then left with Pete to the bar.
The gang was there. The three amigos held court, scoping out everyone who entered. Their arms waved to us, ensuring we noticed where they were seated even though it was the same place as usual. I saw the guys from Cirrus Aviation. A quick glance at the nape of Micah's neck and I gulped. Pete put a rugged paw on my shoulder as we walked towards the table. "Down boy" he said. I shivered as I remembered that detail from my recent dream. Everyone was jovial, still feeling the holiday spirit. Our table got even more crowded as Mike and then Justin joined us.
Our conversation reminded me of one I would have had after returning to grade school from Christmas vacation. Christmas presents were compared, along with a quick recap of what everyone did. Mike commented on the wrestling feature in the newspaper, so Pete filled him in on our match, conveniently leaving out the sling story.
Mike and Fred played a game of pool. I could see them catching up between shots. At one point Mike gave Fred a bear hug and a big pat on the back, then looked over to me with a wink. I didn't know the details, but I gave him a quick thumbs up nonetheless.
When they got back to the table Mike sat near me and turned his stool to face me directly. "Fred said you have been a real friend to him, thanks. He said you were there for him at a crucial time, and frankly I can see a big difference in our friend." We talked for a bit more, as Pete and Justin were throwing darts. After our discussion Mike stood, offered his hand to shake, then pulled me into a strong bear hug. Thanks for being there for a friend buddy" he whispered as he patted my back. "I'm proud to call you friend."
Was it my imagination or was Mike trying to hide an erection as he sat down? I don't know, but I also could swear I saw Pete pat Justin's butt after a bull's-eye. What the hell was going on in this working man's bar in West Duluth?
The Cirrus guys were celebrating on their own. Business was good, and they had gotten a generous Christmas bonus. The oldest one offered to buy our table a round, so we suggested they move their table and join us. I looked at Micah. "So what are you spending your bonus on?
"I don't work there, just got a job as a CPA. So I suppose I could make my bonus by doing their taxes."
Fuck, another omen from my dream. I had always assumed he worked with the rest of the guys, but just like in my dream, he was a CPA. I made small talk trying to hide what I was thinking about the dream, and the erotic aspect of it. I finally floated the idea that business was so good, I might need to hire a CPA. Micah fished a business card out of his wallet, then put it in my palm. It was an innocent move, but lust-charged for me. I looked at it for a second, put it in my wallet, and promised to contact him. I paid the tab, ensuring I got a receipt for my taxes.
Later that evening Pete was the beneficiary of my chat with Micah. An intimate roll on the bed ended with me boning his ass as my tongue explored the nape of his neck, and the stubble of his shaved head. As a couple we were truly versatile, each of us enjoyed taking charge. It was my turn that Tuesday.
Wednesday I floated the idea of a CPA with Jean. As my office manager, she greeted the concept enthusiastically as it would take some work off her plate. I gave her Micah's card and had her contact him for me. I felt the need to keep this relationship purely business, and it would be important for Jean and Micah to communicate. He stopped by the office later on to go over our books with Jean. By the time he left I could tell they would work well together, and she agreed to using his service.
I then asked him to be my personal CPA. With tax season coming up, and the plans for the house in motion I needed some help keeping the finances in check. With his agreement, I was one step closer on my house. Hopefully the visit with Van later on would help me with the design. I left work early and headed to our house. Pete took me downstairs to the workout room. Two new punching bags hung from the ceiling. He showed me how easily they came down if we wanted to put up the sling for a quick romp. As I looked around the rest of the lower level I realized that he had been really busy. Everything was ready for the visit with our architect. The new found interest in his home made him reassess his love for it. He was the one after all, who had bought it years ago from the developer and had been a caretaker ever since.
We headed out to meet Van, Brent and Gino at the restaurant. The Fitger's complex was quiet on this January night, making parking easy. The old brewery had been repurposed into a hotel with a shopping mall. It's rustic masculine charm made up for some of it's faults. In retrofitting the old building they had to deal with limitations that caused a convoluted layout.
We made our way up the meandering stairs and found the guys waiting for us. Van took me by surprise. He had all the hallmarks of an architect. His glasses were horn rimmed with a modern feel. His reddish beard was full, yet well groomed as it brushed his chest. His hair was a close cropped, deeper shade of red. He wore a red plaid flannel shirt, tweed jacket, and well lived in Levi's. Deeply polished brogans completed the look.
He looked timeless and strong, just like his architecture. I had spent a few minutes online looking over examples after Brent proposed the meeting, so I was aware of his style. What I didn't expect was the body that was revealed when we took our table. Van removed his jacket, placing it on his chair. The flannel shirt revealed a powerful upper body. His nipples were clearly visible as the shirt fought to contain them. Sparkling green eyes looked at me while formal introductions were made.
There was an instant rapport. We quickly connected over our shared concern about the design shortcomings of the complex. He looked at it through an architect's eyes, while I did from the graphics. "So fill me in" he said. "What background do you have for this insight?"
I told him about my graphics business and my years of experience. He showed interest, saying he might need some help with graphics for his firm. I kept that in the back of my mind as we ate.
As we left I gave him directions to the house. We walked down to the parking lot and shared our personal opinions on how we would address the shortcomings of the complex.
We met at our place. Van pulled into the driveway shortly after we did. I opened the door and watched his reaction to the place. He stopped, looked around for a minute, then a smile crept onto his face. "Yes, it's virtually unchanged, almost pristine. I showed him through the kitchen, the living room and then up to the bedroom level He was quiet almost the entire time. He would stop to touch surfaces or go over a detail.
I left out the bedroom that was temporarily my storage space, then we went down to the basement. Each room down there drew similar reactions. From the sauna, to the shower, to the workout room he drank it all in. Finally in the rec.-room he sat to contemplate. "You have been a good custodian to this home. There is a similar one from this developer up on Skyline Drive and frankly though the location means it is worth three times this place, it's a mess."
He then went on to inventory the crimes against architecture that were committed in that home. "They modernized something that didn't need it. One bedroom is country blue with geese" He made a retching sound with that. "Crown molding was added where crown molding wasn't needed. The tongue and groove ceilings are covered with dry wall. I realize a house is a living thing, but they sucked all the life out of this one. Please use me if you ever need to update this place. The only current issue I see is a crack in the foundation that probably should be taken care of soon. But fight any other urges to modernize it."
I broached the subject of my other place. "You'll have to show us that crack. However, I don't see us working on this place soon. I do have a second house down the road that needs some TLC and maybe you can help me with it."
Brent had been shadowing Van, soaking in as much of the architects words as possible so he finally spoke up. "I have some ideas for your old house, maybe we should go see it now while Van is available." Van agreed so I called the guys, warning them about our impending visit. Like I thought, they told me they would get dressed quickly and remove any incriminating toys from sight.
When Van heard how close my house was, he insisted we walk down there so he could get a feel for the area and the home. A temp in the low 20's made the walk brisk, but not uncomfortable. We entered the house through the kitchen and Brent started to talk through the ideas. His vision was clear, and fit in with mine so I let him lead the tour. Van was obviously impressed by the house, and Brent's ideas.
We ended in the living room. I offered drinks, and we had coffee to discuss details. "You'll need an architect to draw up the final plans, but I think your friend Brent has the attention to detail needed to help you through this. I also think you have the attention to detail I need in my graphics. What do you say that we do a little bartering. I'll mentor Brent and help with the final plans. In exchange I need you to help me do some brochures and possibly a website for my firm."
It sounded like a deal to me. We shook on it to finalize, then I realized I left someone out of the deal. "Will you do that for me Brent?" I said. His proud smile told me his answer.
We walked back to our place, said goodbye to our friends, and my new client. Pete and I went inside where Pete grabbed me for a quick hug. Looking in my eyes he said "It's great sharing our place with new friends, and seeing it freshly through a new perspective. I'm flattered that someone with his background has an appreciation for our humble home. Let's fire up the sauna, soak for a bit, then head to bed hubby."
I was thoroughly exhausted after our sauna, and zonked out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Pete told me I snored that night, but he embraced me and soon joined me in la-la land.
We were inspecting the workout room with Van. Pete and I took his assessment of our foundation issues to heart, and had work done to seal the crack. He was attending to the final details, looking for the punching bags to ensure they were hung correctly, then he stopped and looked at us. "Maybe we should hang what was intended to be hung there. You guys can't fool me, I know it's here somewhere."
He opened the closet door, rooted around for a moment, then emerged with the leather sling. "Just as I suspected the moment I saw those four eye bolts anchored into the ceiling." He proceeded to hang the sling, ensuring it was the right height. "As the great architect once said "God is in the details"" Van said while ensuring the sling was at a proper height. "Let's test this out."
He started to unbutton his plaid shirt, throwing it off to the side. Just as I thought, red fur carpeted his expansive strong chest. Eraser sized nipples protruded from the red fur, waiting to be nibbled. He pulled off his jeans. He was commando, so his thick six incher slapped up against his tight stomach. He hopped up into the sling, putting his strong legs either side of the chains it hung from. "I think you guys can guess where to start he said, fondling one of his nipples.
Pete and I started to nibble on his chest as we disrobed. Our clothes joined his in a pile off in the corner. "Harder! I can take it" he exhorted as we tugged on his nipples. "Yeah, Pete has the idea, don't be gentle Kyle. I'm a man, I can take it"
I used my teeth and tongue to suck his nub up into my mouth. My hand stroked through the red shagged carpet that was his chest, then down through the happy trail that led to his dick. My hand slowly stroked his dick, my thumb found a pool of pre-cum at the tip, so I used my palm to spread it over the head. He hissed as I did this, obviously enjoying the attention. I took some of the pre-cum and coated my finger then slowly teased his hole. I was in up to his knuckle when Van said "It's the perfect height Kyle, go for it.
I gave his nub one more quick tug, then a bite, then walked around to look at the two men who were now kissing. Van's gut heaved as Pete was kissing him. He was taking deep breaths in between the tongue wrestling that was going on. On one of the breaths I lined up, and sunk my dick in to the balls. Van arched his back and gasped. Pete stood to look at me while I started to slowly screw our new friend. A smile crept across his face as he saw his husband plumb the depths of another man. He reached towards me, I toward him as our hands grasped each other.
We locked eyes as I furiously fucked the red bearded furball in front of me. Van was almost an afterthought as Pete and I shared our love.
"The nips, tug on those damn nips buddies" Van said through gritted teeth. I started to twist the right one, while Pete went back to feasting on the left one. He started to alternate between tugging on the nipple, and feeding his dick to Van. Van was ready for anything we dished out, and started to clamp down on my cock as I thrust into him.
I soon was wailing away at his ass. The fur that framed his hole was like a thousand little fingers massaging my dick as I kept pounding his prostate. Pete watched me intently, stroking his dick with one hand, while the other alternated between Van's extended nipples. He hadn't found Van's pain threshold yet, and I doubted he could.
Pete could sense I was getting close. He looked at me and groaned "Fill that ass." I held Van's thighs, made one last thrust, then dumped my load deep within the architect's ass. Van and Pete weren't far behind. Their loads created a crisscross pattern on Van's furry gut.
Pete whispered a raspy "Yeah, that's my hubby" I woke to find my dick deeply embedded in Pete's ass, cum still trickling out. My arms were around him, one hand still tweaking his nip. "Seriously, I don't know what you dream about, but don't stop" he growled.
I wasn't sure myself. Once again my dreams were going into dangerous, uncharted territory. Van was to be my client. I can't fuck up that relationship by crossing the line, no matter how tempting it is. I started to withdraw, Pete put his hand back to pull me back in. I snuggled him harder, thought of my dream, then twisted his right nipple one more time. A low "oooh unnnghhh" was the last sound we made as we fell back to sleep.