The Professor and Sean - Book Two - Part 23
by Scotty
Disclaimer:
This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.
Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held by the artists and/or their publishers and not by the author. They are quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.
All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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We all find treasure in the strangest places; it is the wonder of being alive.
Scotty
A special `thank you' goes to my editor and proof reader, Wayne. His contribution is significant and greatly appreciated. As Sean would say, "He's "Awesome!"
NOTE: If you would like to know when I am posting the next part of the story, send me an email requesting that I notify you when I post to Nifty.
The Professor and Sean - Book 2 - Part 23
(Sean narrates)
There was a certain sadness on leaving Boston. It was there that I had done my first serious piano performance. There I learned the magic of audience approval. My family and my friends also supported me, but it was my lover, Ry, who helped me through the nervousness of the wait, and then the joy of the performance. He was always there for me. Rog had Greg got him out of the rehearsal so he wouldn't hear the encore. It was only because I wanted to surprise him with my tuxedo that I asked him not to accompany me to Symphony Hall the night of the performance. If he was hurt, he never let me know.
Both of us were quiet as we sped along toward home. I was reliving the happy memories of Boston, and anticipating what the meeting on Wednesday would be like. I also knew that we would need a live-in housekeeper/baby sitter. I had only mentioned it once to Ry, and he agreed, but had thought it might be difficult to find a person with whom we would trust our three boys. I also worried that we would lose some of the bonding we wanted if the boys got their principal care from a stranger. I didn't have any idea how we could handle all of this.
"A penny for your thoughts," said Ry.
"What?"
"A penny for your thoughts, Baby." he repeated.
I smiled, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He kept his eyes on the road, but spoke gently to me,
"I was just wondering what you were thinking about. It got pretty quiet in here. I know that I haven't say anything, but truth be known, I was mulling over a number of things," he told me as he sighed.
"I was thinking about Boston and my performance. It was a wonderful experience. In some ways I am a little sad about leaving it all behind. But I have you and I know that we will eventually get the boys, so I am happy. I am concerned about the boys when we are both at school. I know we can get someone to watch them, but I worry that they will not be as happy as if we were with them. Goodness, I'm a first-class worrywart," I replied and then I giggled.
Ry began to laugh, and suddenly the car was filled with loud, raucous laughter as the two of us let ourselves go, releasing some pent-up nervousness and stress. We continued to laugh so heartily that before long, tears were streaming down our faces.
Ry was almost choking with laughter, but he was able to spit out,
"It's time for lunch, so let's pull off the main highway and find a nice little place to have a sandwich or something."
Catching his breath after he had stopped laughing, he continued,
"We can talk there and settle some things about seeing the house, meeting the committee, and how we will take care of the boys. Remember, Baby, we'll be at the cabin almost as soon as we get the boys. We'll both be there for the summer, so it won't become a problem until classes start again in September. We'll talk it over."
"Let's take the next exit, Hon. I'm actually hungry. But I guess you already knew that," I told him as I continued to laugh.
After exiting, we were on a narrow country road. We followed it for a few miles and came upon a lovely old house. A sign announced that it was Blakley Inn. It was open and served lunch. It would be an oasis for us, giving us time to discuss some matters, which we had both pushed to the back of our minds.
We pulled into the parking lot, and soon were sitting at a table near the fireplace, which was burning brightly. The owner, Ken Peterson, welcomed us, and soon we were enjoying a bowl of New England clam chowder.
"Thanks, Hon, for thinking about stopping for lunch. You always know how to make me happy," I told him between spoonfuls of chowder.
"Eat! No need to compliment me, Baby. I'm always sure of one thing. It's this: my lover is usually hungry."
We both giggled and continued our lunch. This.' I thought, is what happiness is all about.'
(Ryan narrates)
After a delightful lunch where we discussed some important matters, we headed back out and on our way to State. Sean had been animated and funny during lunch, a return of the guy I love so deeply. We would call Greg when we got home and ask him to arrange for us to see the house with Mom and Dad either on Monday or Tuesday afternoon.
On Wednesday we would be meeting with the committee about the boys, and from my reading of Sean's body language, this was the matter about which he had the greatest concern. I was also concerned, especially after hearing about Mrs. Crosby from Dan.
It had been quiet in the car as we sped toward home. I glanced toward Sean and noticed that his eyes seemed heavy. I reached out, took his hand and raised it to me lips. I kissed it lightly as a butterfly might alight on a flower. He smiled at me, and moved toward me, kissing my hand as he pulled it back toward him. He leaned against my side, his head resting on my shoulder. He sighed deeply and then the silence returned. The difference this time was that Sean was asleep. I was happy.
Sean slept until I drove into the parking lot of the townhouse. He stretched and yawned, his muscular body taut and beautiful. I smiled at him and asked,
"Did you have a pleasant nap, Baby?"
His smile melted my heart, and he yawned again, kissed me on the cheek and told me, with his famous giggle,
"It was perfect because I dreamed about you, Hon. You kept making love to me, in so many ways. It was terrific." Now he was laughing.
"Guess what?" he inquired.
"What?"
"It must have been great because my shorts are full of cum. I reached a climax at some point. That's how great you are, Hon."
I was opening the car door as he told me this, but I stopped and looked at him. `Did I hear what I thought I heard,' I wondered. I closed the car door and grabbed him and, holding him tightly, I stroked his head and kissed his ear. I wanted him now so badly that I was ashamed of myself. After all I was a grown, sophisticated, educated man, but I didn't care. He was my life partner, my husband, my lover. I felt myself shaking slightly as I tried to control my urges. Sean felt it, too, and pulled away from me. He looked into my eyes and kissed me, as his hand stroked my now erect penis. I shuddered at his touch and kiss, hardly able to speak. He helped me when he said,
"Hon, let's get inside. This isn't the place to do what we both want. Come on. I'll get the bags."
I didn't move for a moment, as I didn't want to lose contact with him. He understood, as he didn't try to pull away from me. I was almost delirious with his scent, his closeness, my desire. Was I acting like a child? No, I knew I was right, that to want him as I now did, was only an _expression of my intense love for him. I finally let him go, kissing him briefly on the forehead, and telling him,
"You do strange and wonderful things to me. You are so hot, Baby. But that isn't the explanation: no, Baby, you are a complete package. You are handsome, sexy, endowed, intelligent, talented, gentle, loving, almost perfect. And you love me: a professor of English at a small New England college. You could have had anyone you desired, but you chose me. God has been so kind to me, so generous in giving you to me. Baby, my lover, thank you for wanting me. I love you so much."
Sean didn't reply, but simply took my hand, kissed it, got out of the car, came to the driver's side, opened the door, took my hand and pulled me out of the car. He slammed the door, then walked me quickly to the door of the townhouse. He unlocked it, turned off the alarm, and with a childlike smile, led me to the bedroom. He undressed me, kissing my body as it was exposed. He pulled the bedclothes down, and led me to the bed where I laid down; my head propped up so that I could watch him disrobe.
At every juncture as he exposed his body, my penis jumped a little higher, got a little harder, dripped a little more precum. Naked and beautiful, he stood before me, his cock engorged with blood standing out firmly from his body. He stroked it once or twice as he moved to me. He fell upon me, covering my body with his, moving against me, our two cocks rubbing together. He was kissing me firmly and we were exploring each other's mouths with our tongues. I thought I might cum, but he stopped, smiled at me, and said with his giggle,
"Now, isn't this better than the car?"
Laughing and stroking his beautiful ass, I told him,
"Yes, Baby. Yes!"
And he made love to me: a willing recipient of his desire.
(Ryan continues)
Surprisingly, after making love we both fell asleep. The last few days had been exhausting, both physically and emotionally. I needed to use the bathroom, so I carefully got out of bed and relieved myself. I quietly went to the kitchen to check out what was around for an evening meal. I was disappointed, but not surprised. There was little to make a presentable meal. It would be dinner out tonight. I decided to call Rog and ask if he and Greg could join us for dinner, thereby giving us an opportunity to discuss the house and perhaps the meeting on Wednesday.
I dialed Rog's number. The phone rang twice and I was about to hang up when Greg answered the phone.
"Rog and Greg's," he said.
"Hey, Greg, it's Ryan. I just checked the kitchen and we are a little bare, not enough to make a presentable meal. I wondered if you and Rog would like to join Sean and me for dinner. I thought we could discuss the house and maybe other things. What do you think?"
"Fine with me, man. Just a minute." I heard him call to Rog,
"Hey, sweetheart, want to go to dinner with Ryan and Sean?" There was some mumbling in the background, but I couldn't make out what Rog was saying.
"Ryan, he says sure, but everyone pays his own way. No free meals on you or Sean."
"Of course, how about going to Bradford Inn. It's usually really good and a favorite of Sean's. If I call and ask, I think we can get one of those very private anterooms."
"Fine, man. How about seven?" he asked.
"Okay. Look, Greg, everything is set, unless I can't get reservations at that time. If that's the case, I'll call back with the next best time. See you then. Bye."
A sleepy Sean stood by the door watching me. He kept yawning, and occasionally stretched.
"Who was that?" he asked.
I went to him and hugged him. He kissed me quickly on the lips.
"That was Greg," I told him. "I asked him and Rog to come to dinner with us tonight. There's not enough food here to feed a overfed mouse." Sean laughed.
"Where are we going?"
"How's Bradford Inn sound?" I asked. He laughed again.
"Hmm, are you trying to get on my better side because you want to seduce me?"
"Now that you mention it, that sounds like a fine idea. But the fact is we need to have dinner. I thought it would be nice to eat with Rog and Greg. That way we can talk about the house. We might drive by just to see it. And maybe we can chat about the meeting on Wednesday. Perhaps Rog and Greg can offer some suggestions. What do you think?"
He walked into the kitchen and got a soda, pulled the tab, walked back into the living room, and standing there naked and beautiful, he said,
"It's okay with me, but perhaps we should get dressed," he said with a smirk. I realized then that I was naked, too. I couldn't help it so I started to belly laugh. He joined me and soon the room was filled with laughter. I was laughing so hard that tears were running down my face. He was also bent over in laughter. I noticed he had grabbed his penis.
"Do you have a problem?" I asked.
"If I don't piss, I'm going to explode. I have to hold my cock tight so I won't start pissing here in the living room."
"Get your ass into the bathroom, Baby. I am in no mood to clean up," I said with a laugh. He hurried out of the room, and even somewhat removed, I could hear his stream hitting the toilet. I then called the Bradford Inn. Happily we could have what we wanted and at seven. After I finished the call, I went to the bedroom and began to dress. I had just put on my underwear when Sean came out of the bathroom, still naked. I ogled him, provoking a giggle. He stood there in all his youthful glory; his body glistening with the drops of water he had on his chest.
"Get you eyes back in your head, you dirty old man," he said, laughing as he moved to me. He kissed me on the lips and moved to his dresser where he took out one of his thongs. I watched as he stepped into it, and pulled it up slowly, somewhat performing for me.
"Stop that, Baby, or I will throw you to the floor and have my way with you."
"Is that a promise?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of casual slacks.
"You can bet your ass on it," I told him as I laughed.
"I'll remember that," he said as he pulled on a white knit shirt and over that a light blue cashmere sweater. His gray socks matched his trousers and he slipped on his black loafers. I quickly dressed, staying with the tans and a light green sweater.
"You are one hot looking dude," he told me as he brushed his hair.
I finished tying my tan shoes, hurried into the bathroom and slapped on some after-shave and brushed my teeth. When I returned to the bedroom, Sean was not there. I wondered for a moment where he might be, but when I heard the piano, I knew immediately. Then it hit me. The piano! If we did buy the house it would have to have a place for the piano. I would tell him that now. I recognized some themes from his performance and when he started to play `our song', my legs turned to rubber. I stumbled into the room, went to him at the piano, and sat on the bench. He looked at me and smiled.
"This piano goes into the house if we buy it. It marks an important moment in our life, Baby. Plus, I want you to have it so that the boys and I can listen to you play. Music is important in our lives and I want to pass that on to the boys."
Suddenly he stopped playing. He looked at me with doubt written all over his face. He tried to begin, but couldn't. Then he began talking, almost in a stutter.
"You, you act like we already have the b-b-boys. How can that be? Tell me, please."
"I think God will not let us down, Baby. He knows we can make a good home for the boys. They need stability and loads of love. God knows we can give that love, that stability. I feel in the deepest recesses of my soul that we will have the boys. I just know it."
Then I noticed the tears running down his face. I kissed them away, and then hugged him tightly. He responded by returning my hug.
"I pray to God that you are right, Hon. I want those boys so badly. I want the family I never had. I want us to grow old watching our children mature and prosper."
"Let's go," I urged him. "If God is as good as I know He is, then He will be sure that you get your wish." We left together, hand in hand, happy and hopeful.
(Mrs. Crosby narrates)
I had called all the members of the committee to confirm Wednesday as the day we would meet with Mr. Taylor and Mr. Kelly. Their attorney would let us know the time and place on Monday. I began to think about the members of the committee.
A good friend of mine, Marian Cantor, would be accepting of the couple if she felt they were financially secure and would be willing to take all three of the boys. It would be her responsibility to tell them why the boys were up for adoption. Thank God I didn't have to do that.
Lawrence Bigotan would be a different story. I guessed he was homophobic. He wouldn't accept two gay men adopting the boys. He would have many other reasons, but I knew he hated gays and that would be his driving force. Thankfully he had only one vote.
Sheila Devonsted was the youngest of the committee members. She had two sons of her own. I sensed that she was contemporary and not bothered by the two men being gay. She would be more interested in the boys' well-being and that the couple was financially able to care for them.
Finally there was Richard Silverstone. He had been with the adoption agency the longest of any of us. He was an older man, I would guess in his seventies, but he was really living in the present and not in the past. He had talked to me privately and informed me that he wanted to keep the boys together. They didn't deserve any more trauma in their young lives. If any couple couldn't or wouldn't take all three, then he would vote against the adoption. I asked his opinion of same sex couples adopting. He smiled at me and told me in a clear, firm voice that he preferred that to keeping children in foster homes or institutions.
Their attorney had provided me with their financial situation. I would be interested in what they themselves have to say about that. I also wondered about housing arrangements. The meeting should be interesting.
(Ryan narrates)
It took us only a few minutes to drive to the Inn. Bradford Inn was an old colonial house situated just outside of town. It had gardens of flowers and vegetables. The gardens were, of course, seasonal because of the vagaries in New England weather. I knew the owner from being at the Inn with Rog and Greg in the past. Conrad Gatson was a large man. He stood six feet seven or eight inches tall. He had a very muscular body, and he resembled a professional wrestler rather than a twenty-first century innkeeper.
Everything in the inn had been carefully selected to add to the ambiance of the place. It was tastefully Colonial and it was beautiful! Conrad had never met Sean; in fact, it had been years since I had dined here. Rog and Greg were already there, waiting in the car. As soon as we arrived, they came to meet us.
"Welcome to our favorite restaurant," said a smiling Greg.
Rog, in his usual way, played down Greg's enthusiasm. He looked at me and said,
"Ryan, keep Sean's feet on the ground. Greg gets a little carried away when he talks about the Inn."
"You can be such an old sourpuss, Sweetheart. Nevertheless, I still love you," chimed in Greg.
We were at the door, all laughing lightly, when Conrad opened the door and welcomed us in. I could tell that Sean was impressed by Conrad's size. I also noticed that Conrad was giving Sean the once over. He's not gay that I know of, but he knows beauty when he sees it.
The Inn had various rooms, kept to maintain the charm of its previous life. Conrad took us to a small side room with a lovely fireplace. There were two tables in the room, one for four patrons and the other for two. Conrad assured me that no one else would be in the room with us. It was ours for as long as we needed it. We took our seats, and as he handed us our menus, Conrad told us that our waiter would be with us shortly. As he was leaving, Greg excused himself and went out after him.
Dour old Rog suggested, "Probably has to go to the bathroom."
I laughed as Sean took Rog's hand and asked him,
"Are you okay, Dr. Fillimore? Maybe you are tired and we shouldn't have gone out to dinner tonight."
I could see Rog tense, but he smiled and told him that he wasn't tired. He just was a little angry with Greg for being a lout. He began to laugh, and then giggle. Sean joined him and so did I. When poor Greg came back into the room, we were all laughing, then giggling until tears ran down our faces. What a bunch of dorks!
Greg said nothing. He just sat and quietly watched us as we lost control again. Finally Rog, a little irritated, asked,
"Aren't you going to ask what's so funny?"
"Nope."
That was too much for all of us and we began giggling like junior high school girls and then laughing like half-drunk sailors. Greg had joined in; it was contagious. When we finally stopped the silliness, no one could remember why we were laughing. Good old Greg same through again,
"We're all a little tired from the busy weekend, but I think a better explanation is that we're all crazy."
What saved us from the same thing again was the arrival of our waitress, Hannah Chambers. She was an old-timer at the Inn, a robust smiling women who loved her job. She made us all feel at home. Rog and Greg ordered wine while Sean and I ordered soda and lemonade.
When the drinks came, conversation began to flow. Greg started it by telling us that he had contacted the realtor who had the listing for the house. He would show it to us on Tuesday as soon as I could get away from State. Sean was uncharacteristically silent. I wondered what was wrong, but I thought that now was not the time to ask. Rog wasn't thinking the same as I was.
"What's the matter, Sean? You seem distracted or something," Rog commented.
"It's nothing. It's just that I get uneasy about some things. I mean, I worry that if we do too much, it will change our chances of adopting the boys," he said quietly.
I reached for his hand and took in mine. He half smiled at me and there was a hint of tears in his eyes. I softly said to him,
"We don't have to look at the house, Baby. If it will upset you, let's just forget it."
Rog would have nothing to do with it. He said quickly and dispassionately,
"I know it's none of my business, but I think that would be a mistake. Sean, whether you look at the house or not, won't change how the adoption comes out. It doesn't matter. One thing doesn't have anything to do with the other. Looking at the house may help since you can tell the committee about it."
Greg gave Rog a look that could kill and shook his head both in disgust and anger for sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted.
I squeezed Sean's hand tightly and said,
"Baby, I think Rog has a point. We can't change our entire lives because we want to adopt the boys. We have to be ourselves and live our lives. It's that simple. Changing everything we do, or don't do, won't change anything."
"I'm just a silly goose, aren't I? You know me, Ry, just a big craphead."
I had to kiss him, so I left my place and went to him, bent down and kissed him lightly on the top of his head, then whispering into his ear,
"Are you okay?"
"So fellows, you ready to order?" interrupted a smiling Hannah.
"I think we are, aren't we guys?" inquired a chastened Rog.
Greg was tapping his fingers on the table, a look of great disdain on his face. He spit out,
"Sure, we're ready. Why wouldn't we be? If the master says we're ready, then we're ready."
I had returned to my seat, and I could see that Sean was being made very uncomfortable by the little squabble between Rog and Greg.
"Everyone, please. What Rog said to me was right. I'm glad it was said because it helped me get my head on right. Miss, I'll have the onion soup for my appetizer. I'd like the sirloin steak, medium rare with French fries and a Caesar salad. What do you have for vegetables?" asked Sean.
"Tonight we have steamed cauliflower and broccoli, roasted root vegetables, Harvard beets, and French style green beans," replied Hannah. Sean thought for a minute, and then added,
"I'd like two vegetables, the green beans and the roasted root vegetables."
After he finished placing his order, we all ordered in turn. Hannah left to get appetizers. Sean spoke again with certainty and firmness in his voice,
"I'd like to see the house Monday afternoon. Can you arrange that, Greg?" Then he stopped for a moment and I could tell he was thinking.
`I'm sorry, Ry, I should have asked you first. Is it okay with you?"
I smiled at him,
"It's fine with me, Baby. Can you arrange that, Greg?"
"Sure can. Don't worry; it's as good as done. Only thing is what time is best for you two?" he asked.
"It's easier for me if it's after one in the afternoon. That's when my last class finishes," I told him.
Sean chimed in, "That's fine with me as I don't have any class tomorrow afternoon. I would normally practice piano, but I know you won't mind me missing it will you, Dr. Fillimore?"
"That's no problem, Sean. I think a break from practicing would be good for you. Don't worry about it."
Greg laughed, "Then it's settled. I'll make the arrangements, and if any problems arise, I'll let you know.?
Hannah appeared carrying a large tray. She set it down on a folding tray stand. "Now, let's see. You, young man get the onion soup, right?"
"Right," answered Sean. Shortly we were all enjoying our appetizers, and for a while conversation stopped. I felt Sean's foot rubbing up my leg, and I smiled to myself as I realized that he had slipped off his loafer and was massaging my leg with his sock-covered foot. I was getting stimulated and he knew it. He smiled a silly smile at me and said,
"Is it hot in here, Ry? Or is it just a result of eating this very warm soup?"
I knew that I blushed, but just answered him quickly as now his foot was rubbing on my growing erection.
"It seems warm in here to me, too. Do you guys think it's hot in here?" I asked Rog and Greg.
Greg seldom missed anything, and he leaned into Rog and whispered something into his ear. Then he cleared his voice and with a guttural laugh, he said,
"It's probably not as hot in here for Rog and me, Ry. You see, Sean isn't rubbing his foot on our private parts."
Sean almost choked on his soup, and I reddened to the point I am sure I looked as if I had been in the sun for hours. At first I didn't know what to say, but suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted to reply,
"It's your loss that you don't have Sean. You see he takes great pleasure in giving me pleasure and I do the same for him. As long as they know, Baby, you don't have to stop. They're just jealous."
There was much laughter at the table. Sean didn't stop, but got bolder, pushing his foot deeper into my crotch. I was just about to warn him to be careful when he pushed too hard and tipped backward, ass over teakettle, landing on top of the chair on his back. Conrad was in the room almost immediately.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen," he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
Sean answered for all of us when he told Conrad,
"There's not problem, sir. I was just showing everyone one of my talents. I got a little carried away and tipped myself over. I'm fine. I plan to show Ry the rest of my talent later when we get home. He's aware of some of it, but I`ve expanded my repertoire."
"Good, good; that's fine. Everyone is okay. Good, good. Enjoy your dinner," he said as he turned and left the room.
No one said anything for a minute of two. Greg started laughing, soon joined by all of us.
"What an answer that was, Sean," said Rog.
"Absolutely!" added Greg.
"And I, Baby, will be anticipating having a demonstration of your latest talents. I expect something exciting and wonderful."
Sean smiled, leaned to me and said,
"Hon, I'll knock your socks off. Just you wait."
Wait I did, and I lost my socks among other articles of clothing.
(To be continued)
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