Valentine Story mm cons

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This Story contains graphic details of a consensual loving gay relationship do NOT read any further if you are under the required legal age or do not appreciate reading gay stories that are in a loving consensual format.

The poster of this article, who is posting on behalf of the author accepts no responsibility for the content of this text, neither is it intended to reflect in ANY way the views held by the posters service provider.

"My Valentine"

A Gay Love Story

by Dick Magnum, SysOp

The Briar Patch BBS

(303) 457-2142

Denver, CO

Turn down the lamps, get very close to your

special guy, and read this one softly aloud.

'My Valentine' is a love story intended to

be shared, especially if you're into romance.

William snuggled, alone, deep into the big, soft feather-bed, listening to the silence of the still, cold, mid-winter night. Early the day before, a heavy snow began to fall and continued into that night and through the next day. He had scarcely managed to complete his journey to this olde romantic lovers' rendezvous. Usually, one would anticipate finding such a place in a condition of near-overflow, regardless of the time of year. But... this wet, unexpected February snow had caused frustrating delay for most travellers, and most all the suites seemed destined to remain empty.

A hush had settled all throughout the comfortable, rambling rooms and corridors which normally echo with quiet conversation, soft footsteps and the creak of heavy wooden doors being opened and closed. His feet felt icy-cold and now William shivered as he shifted his body, trying to find a warmer niche, and the "POP!", as a knot from a solitary glowing log in the fireplace exploded, resounded like a canon-report amidst the silence of the night. He ran his fingers downward through his long, soft auburn hair and felt a tingle as they continued down past his ear, gently teased along his bronzed neck and jaw, then stopped to caress his dark-haired chest. His body was primed for the romance he had incessantly thought of since October had first hinted at the chill to come.

Unconsciously, William chewed his lower lip and remembered the events which had brought him here. Months ago, in late-summer, he had arranged a holiday with his friend, Thompson. "Thom!" he thought, almost aloud, then tensed, expecting to hear an echo. William and Thompson had been nearly inseparable all summer. They had discovered each other late in their final year of school. Friends first, they studied together in the quiet library. William, a political science and economics student; Thompson studied the mechanical sciences. Although William had difficulty grasping the context of all Thompson studied, he easily understood its importance and admired this new-found friend for his ability to reason-out and understand the most complex devices; William had difficulty at times even setting his alarm clock. Thompson balanced the scales of their friendship by his difficulty maintaining an easy personal relationship with many of his instructors and peers; indeed, his attitude got him in many scrapes.

As examinations drew closer, the friends' reliance upon each other grew beyond normal bounds. William depended upon his friend's companionship, and loved to stare quietly at Thompson's intense dark brown eyes as they grappled with a problem in a text. He watched closely as they widened, as the eyebrows arched, then saw the grin as some complex theorem easily solved itself in his friends' mind. Thompson was similarly awe-struck at the ease with which William explained better methods of dealing with people who wanted to understand - or to test Thompson's understanding of - the inner workings of those things which he took for granted. As the weather had warmed that last year of their school, they frequently took their studies out-of-doors into the warm sunshine. Exploring, talking as they wandered away from the central campus, they had found a peaceful oasis and here they would lie back on the warm earth, study together and sometimes talk of the things friends speak about.

It was a day such as that, when the magic of the warm spring sun caused Thompson to remove his shirt, revealing the thin, nearly-blond hair covering his lightly-muscled chest. William had never seen his friend in anything but full school dress; dark slacks, white shirt and tie. Thompson delighted in the warmth of the sun as its rays tingled and splashed onto the surface of his skin. The crushed blades of grass beneath his back felt cool, almost damp. Squinting into the glare of the bright blue, cloudless April sky overhead, he wished these moments would continue forever and suddenly realized how closely the sky's blue matched William's eyes. Gently warm and penetrating, he had become aware of William studying him in the library. Now, he turned and looked into those same eyes, framed with contrasting auburn hair, recently cut short as the winter's harsh cold was replaced by spring's more gentle days.

Thompson was deeply in his friend's debt. William had opened his eyes to the reality that people posed no real threat to his goals; had actually taught him to make profit from his love of science by winning the confidence of others. Thompson was now more certain of his abilities and developed a deep admiration for his friend's gentle, understanding ways. The two smiled and continued their silent gaze, then, perhaps a bit embarrassed to be under such close examination, Thompson rolled over onto his stomach, pretending to disperse the sun's warmth over his entire body. Instinctively, William raised his hand to brush a few bits of grass which had broken and clung to his friends' bare back. The touch was electric!

William snapped out of his reverie as another knot exploded in the fireplace. "POW!" And just now he became aware of another knot, this one somewhere deep inside his own body, located between his gullet and his gut. "Thom!" He pulled a pillow to his chest, easing the ache in his heart as his mind and soul cried out into the night which held his lover, snowbound somewhere... far or near, there was no way to know. But he felt that his ache was shared. He tossed again in the bed but knew he wouldn't... couldn't... sleep now. William sat upright and stared out the window into the winter night. Snowflakes, thick and soft and beautiful, shifted like a lace curtain in the night. A nearly-full moon cast its pale light over the countryside. His hands reached for his unseen lover; his eyes peered through the night in the direction Thompson must be... wondering where, how soon? Oh, to feel that strong body in his arms right now!

And in a distant village, Thompson paced, unable to think of sleep. He was still a full day's ride from the old flatland castle where he and William were to spend the week; this Lover's Holiday. Unable to continue through the deep and heavy snow, his convoy had been forced to stop and seek shelter at a small inn. Although the snowfall had finally ended, there were still many miles of nearly impassable road ahead. At morning light, their driver would set out and find some means to transport his passengers toward their destinations. He looked out a window toward the moonlit hillsides and knew that just beyond the last one, William would be waiting. A bluish-coloured light sparkled somewhere up the nearest hill and for a moment the sparkle of his lovers' bright blue eyes flooded Thompson's mind.

His heart ached from the disappointing delay. Thompson deeply longed to hold William against his breast; he thought of gently running his fingers through his head of silky long hair and caressing the coarse hair on his chest. "Oh, Will!" he thought silently. Now, from somewhere close by, a tower-clock began to chime the hour. Thompson counted: One.... Two.... Three.... then silence. He calculated four more hours of darkness then another hour delay while their driver made arrangements to continue their journey. It would be far past midnight the next day before he could possibly greet William at the old castle. Unsettled and agitated, Thompson continued to pace. The old oak floor creaked beneath his step and he paused, waiting, lest the noise awaken the other two who shared this tiny room. Convinced that they continued to sleep, Thompson slowly returned to his watch-place at the window and satisfied himself to recount that warm spring day when William had first broken the silence of admiration between them, feeling again the tingle as William's hand gently brushed some lawn-stubble from his back.

Their thoughts now meld. Just as suddenly as he had turned once before, Thompson again turned to face William and placed his friend's hand upon his chest. Thompson reached for the lovely head of hair which glistened in the sun; the hair he had longed to run his fingers through time and time again. As his hand brushed his best friend's cheek then again stroked the auburn hair, now he pulled William's lips to his and gently they met and kissed. It was warm and pure, as natural as a thing could be. William removed his own shirt and lay closely beside Thompson, reverently watching his every breath as he explored his friend's chest, arms, head; every part exposed to him. Thompson inhaled the beauty of William's bared breast and with one finger traced a trail through the heavy dark hair of William's chest. Laying together like this for a score of minutes, they let their eyes and hands feast upon the newly discovered delights of their friendship.

Staring out his window in the old castle, William felt a stirring beneath his nightshirt as he remembered that first time Thompson had paid attention to the swelling bulge at his crotch. Reaching beneath his slacks, his friend had found the source of that swelling and gently pulled it down toward him, running his fingers over its length. Oh, the pleasure William felt as the fingers began their slow massage. He had sighed a happy sigh and loosened his belt, unfastened his slacks and let the zipper be forced open by the pressure of the mass surrounding his crotch. The warm spring sun instantly found his swollen flesh as Thompson slid his shorts and slacks downward. Then Thompson's eyes feasted upon the handsome male organ in his grip. The sun caught a drop of moisture as it oozed from the opening of his erection.

From his vantage point in a small village, Thompson watched the blue twinkling light upon the distant hillside. The ache in his crotch was now unbearable. His hand reached out, wanting to touch again that most wonderful part of William's body. It touched, instead, the glass window-pane through which he watched the white winter night passing by. He felt now, the feeling that William's fingers were upon his chest, ruffling its golden-brown hair, and ever so slowly moving lower and lower, now circling his crotch. His passion rose as he recalled the warmth of William's hand as it had reached through the stressed opening of his trousers and begin to massage the warm hard mantool waiting there. Their passions steadily rising to a peak and slowly ebbing, William and Thompson thus passed the night.

Now, stirring, Thompson squinted through half-closed eyes and became aware of the busy noises all around him. Their driver had returned with a leased transport and their journey would continue within the hour. He startled... fully awake now, hope rebourne in his breast. He looked, half-expecting to find William asleep beside him as he recalled the realism of his dream.

And now, it was William who felt a peaceful warmth, and imagined that Thompson was fully covering him, completely enveloping his body. Rather than open his eyes, he hugged... and the big feather pillow gently gave 'way to his strength. As his senses re-awakened, William shot a glance to his left, then his right, expecting Thompson to be there, sleeping soundly beside him in their room at the old castle. No... the bed was still empty. The pungent aroma of fresh muffins and strong coffee teased his nose to wake. The snow had ended during the night and a brilliant sun shone down upon his bed from a bright blue sky. Outside, the scene was dazzling... jewels glittered from every tree branch, and what had been shrubbery in a garden below were now white snow-mounds.

Awake, William wondered the fate of his lover and if the same sun caressed his breast this morning. William stirred; it was bitter cold in the big olde high-ceilinged room, as the fireplace contained only ashes. Pulling the warm covers with him, William swept across the floor, chose a large log and a few smaller pieces of kindling, struck a match and watched the flames take hold. The water in the wash basin was ice cold... the kettle hanging above the hearth seemed warmer and he tok a small pan of it to splash and refresh his face. A rumble from his stomach reminded him that breakfast was ready downstairs and prompted him to dress quickly in the morning chill. The fireplace had settled to a soothing snapping sound as he laid one more log upon the one now burning easily, then opened the unlocked door and stepped into the long, empty corridor of the cold, olde castle.

Thompson stumbled into the bright sunlight and took his place amoung the waiting passengers laden with luggage. Their driver stowed each piece snugly to its owner's satisfaction, then moved to the next. As Thompson boarded, he glanced up at the sun, now high into the chill winter sky. It was very late, not far from midday, and he wished the driver understood the urgency he felt. And within minutes of loading his, the last of the luggage, they were off into the hills. He was glad he had thought to purchase a few freshly-baked hard, chewy rolls the innkeeper's wife had offered their departing guests. He was hungry and no one knew when they would arrive at the next village. Beginning to munch contentedly, Thompson glanced out a window and saw a tall steeple. Its clock indicated half-past nine. They moved swiftly, silently over the fresh, packed snow towards the hills, now far away. He settled back into his seat and tried to silence the rushing within his mind as he resumed his travel.

Descending the stone stairway in the olde castle, William allowed his senses to lead him to the source of the aromas which beckoned him. He chose a table close to the window looking onto the distant hillside and settled for hot tea and a freshly-baked fruit scone for breakfast. He could leisurely sit and watch for arrivals, if any could dare make such a journey through the deep snow. The dining area was almost deserted except for one couple seated at the opposite end of the large hall and a scattering of lone people sitting and gazing into nowhere. Pieces of muffled conversation reached his ear, but his mind did not care to listen. His thoughts were on another traveller. He knew Thompson was there, even hiking if necessary, to keep their long-planned meeting. His tea and warm scone had been set upon the table before him, and he broke off a small piece and savored the mild spicy taste. He lingered, preferring to stretch the breakfast as long as possible, rather than return to the lonely, icy silence of his... their... room. He allowed his tea to be refreshed time and again until the server politely asked whether he would be staying for lunch, also. Then, he saw a heavily-laden carriage moving slowly across the ridge of the hill. William excused himself and found a position in the antechamber where he could await its arrival.

It was now well into mid-afternoon, and Thompson was stirred from his thoughts by changing scenery. They were approaching a small city and he saw houses, young children playing in the snow, and the road widened a bit. He welcomed the idea of the opportunity to stretch, perhaps find some hot beverage and some small portion of hot food and learn of news about the road ahead. Their driver stopped at a large hostel near the center of town and advised his passengers that they were free to walk about, get food and wait while he determined whether the roads were in such condition that they could press onward. Thompson knew that the next distant hill would present a challenge to any vehicle; the road was steep and winding. He fingered the extra currency he carried, considering an offer of a bribe to the driver if he would attempt just one more leg of their journey without delay. He stood and gazed up at that hill, wishing now that they were already descending; he could be in William's arms before nightfall.

He sighed, turned and walked into the hostel where, around a cheery fireplace, a crowd had gathered to drink and feast and enjoy the companionship of other travellers and local citizens as well. Already a local lass was leading one fellow traveller up the winding staircase. Thompson's pent-up desires for the warm closeness of his lover caused his blood to rush, and he felt disgust that a fellow human could so easily allow himself to be secluded with a stranger for only a few moments of pleasure. As more travellers arrived and crowded into the hostel, Thompson busied himself with the warmth of the fireplace and the tempting food spread out on the long table nearby. He filled a plate and took a seat at an empty table looking out onto the street. Then he became aware of a presence beside him and looked up into the face of a youth about his age. The stranger nodded and motioned questioningly to another chair at the table. His mouth full, Thompson nodded and the handsome young man removed his coat and sat down. As they ate, Thompson watched the street, and watched the stranger, considering.

The large double doors of the olde castle swung open wide, and a chilled, noisy crowd entered the stone building. William quickly scanned the faces, but none were familiar to him. There were couples, young and old, and some people like him, travelling alone... perhaps, he imagined, many like himself, hoping to greet their lovers here. Now disheartened, William stood to move out of their way. As he did so, his eyes came level with a handsome fellow, about his own age. They exchanged a momentary glance, a nod, then William escaped into the dining area to take a late noon meal. Again he chose a chair near the window where he could see the arrival of more guests. He watched as the crowd of new arrivals now began to wander into the room, were seated and made it seem warmer by their presence. With interest, William noted the same handsome young man being seated at a table near his; in one direction he could watch the hillside, somewhere beyond which Thompson would be found. On the opposite direction was the pleasant young man, just being served.

Some far distance away, among a pack of noisy travellers gathered into a city's hostel on a cold winter day, Thompson was aware throughout his meal that a pair of eyes were upon him almost always. Occasionally, when he met their gaze, the handsome young man smiled but often he glanced away nervously. Their driver returned to the inn and began speaking to people who were finishing their meal, moving quickly from table to table. Some people shook their heads and got up to wander about, gathered their luggage and appeared to prepare for a stay at the hostel. Thompson was momentarily distracted as a disheveled man came down the staircase on the opposite side of the room, spoke to the hosteler behind the desk, paid some currency then quickly returned up the stairs. Thompson recognized him as the traveller who had ascended an hour earlier with a young lady on his arm. So... one more would be spending the night.

As Thompson watched, more of his fellow passengers were greeted by the driver. While some followed the others, a few got up, paid for their meal and were waiting outside. Now the driver approached Thompson and the other young man. Thompson learned that earlier in the day, another travelling party had departed this same hostelry and had successfully completed the journey to the flatland castle beyond the next hill. The driver, familiar with the layout of the land, could continue the trip, but only with able-bodied people travelling alone who would be willing and able to help free their vehicle if it became stuck in the darkness along the way. They must understand that they could become stranded. Thompson and the young stranger eagerly agreed. They each paid for their meal and prepared to continue on the journey of chance. So... they were now to become travelling companions also.

Seated in the dining area of the olde castle, William had finished his meal. Outside, the winter shadows became longer and still no new carriages had arrived, and William's spirits were dampened. As the night of the Lover's Day eve rapidly approached, he consoled himself that the castle would not be so quiet tonight; he decided to adjourn to a more comfortable room at the olde castle, one reserved for guests who wished to linger and smoke or perhaps enjoy some after-dinner spirits. William seldom smoked, but anything would help to pass the time through what seemed destined to be an eternally-long, lonely evening. Anything, even the companionship of a stranger, was preferable to being alone, especially on this especially memorable day. Seated now at the long mahogany common-table, his back to the doorway and few other guests, he was surprised as the same handsome young man he'd watched throughout the meal drew up a chair near his.

The long afternoon shadows faded into evening. Evening became night. At least they were not alone, William and Thompson. They chatted with their new-found companions and learned they were on holiday, expecting to meet a friend. The time now passed easily with someone to share the loneliness of the winter evening, and now William hesitated. Although the spirits had made him tired, he was enjoying the companionship of a new friend. And Thompson knew the miles were moving rapidly. Their companions had edged closer, to speak in lower tones. Each considered opening their hearts to these new young men. William knew it would be very cold in his room and decided to excuse himself to re-light the fireplace, throw back the bedcovers to allow the warmth to penetrate. He would return shortly, he assured his new friend. Thompson heard the driver announce their approach to the castle gate. Now excited, he moved away from his travelling companion to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of window-light from where he hoped William would be waiting.

Their quiet arrival at the castle was noticed by only the few who had reason to stay up into the night. The travellers found no staff waiting to greet them, just a lone sentinel who directed them to wait while he roused enough faculty people to help them become comfortable. Neither Thompson nor his travelling companion were certain that their arrival was expected and had agreed to share a room rather than remain alone. The two wandered a bit; viewed the empty dining room then saw a dim light and noticed a few patrons still gathered in the lounge. There the young traveller suddenly recognized his friend, sitting alone, waiting, at a long dark table and shouted out his name. The lone young man spun and laughed with happiness of the reunion. Arms outstretched, he happily ran to the traveller... a journey, a reunion, complete.

Now, from somewhere deep within the old castle, a clock begins to chime the midnight hour. Thompson now turns away to avoid being witness to the warm reunion. His glance catches a figure descending the stone staircase. Bright blue eyes sparking, his beloved William runs down the steps and into his arms. As the twelfth chime sounds... a new day, a Lover's Day, begins. Today is February 14th...

Happy Valentine's Day.

Notes:

1. The author is available for comments and conversations on the "DICK_MAGNUM" message echo on many gay BBS's in both the United States and Europe. The echo originates on Gay Capital Amsterdam BBS in Amsterdam and is carried by most FreeSpirit Network and GayNet International affiliated BBS's.

2. The story, My Valentine, was inspired by (a) Wittem Castle, about 15 minutes cardrive from Valkenburg, situated in one of Limburg's most beautiful valleys, the Geul Valley in Netherland and (b) the romantically-beautiful lyrics of "I Will Make Love To You" by BOYZ II MEN (Motown).

3. Permission is granted by the author and DICK MAGNUM INTERNATIONAL for the release and distribution of this manuscript in whatever form is useful, providing all material contained herein remains intact.

(c) 1995 DICK MAGNUM INTERNATIONAL

-- Barry Kingston-Wyatt barry@spartacus.embassy.co.uk For information about the Embassy.Net Email Service Send mail to info@embassy.co.uk

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