Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have the next issue in my historical M/M romance, Dear Jon, which is set in 1945. Every issue of this serial will be under 1500 words so they're quick reads. Our word prompt today is 'Pretty'. This story contains mature language and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering.
Today's issue has an explicit gay sexual scene.
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Abnormal. Deviant. Sinful. Aberrant.
That`s what people say about this feeling I have growing inside of me. Keeping my head down and my vision pinned to Ross, I wondered how those words could be applied to emotions as strong as these. I would have chosen different terms.
Wonderful. Exhilarating. Natural. Splendid.
The night had been exactly what Andrew and I had needed. We had arrived at the pretty little house tucked back among towering pines late. Andy had suffered a small meltdown and had gotten his first paddling from Uncle Jon. Andrew had kicked one of his geese in anger. I do not tolerate hateful words or actions against those weaker than us. His anger was justified. The stupid birds had stolen the boy’s sandwich from his hand. I`m reasonably sure there was more to the outburst than a pilfered cheese sandwich, but it was the vicious way he also kicked my shin when I took him by the arm that got his backside tanned. I still felt terrible but the boy now knew where Uncle Jon`s line was. And dislike them as I do, the birds are simply stupid birds with brains the size of a chick pea. Pushing that unpleasantness aside I admired Ross coming towards me across the lawn.
We had left the radio on in the two-bedroom cedar shingle house. I was glad. Frank Sinatra was one of my favorite singers.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the steaming cup of coffee from Ross. He sat down beside me on the swing beside the pond. The frogs were an exuberant chorus. “Is he still sleeping?” I asked then blew over the delicious smelling brew.
“Out like a light,” Ross chuckled, his cup balanced on his right thigh. “It must have been all the sunfish he caught.” His left arm settled behind me on the back of the redwood swing.
“They were so heavy!” I said just as my nephew had a few hours ago. Looking out at the small pond surrounded by cattails I inhaled something that smelled like serenity. Ross laughed lightly then pushed the swing into motion with his feet. We rocked in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the company. “Ross, if they dig too deep . . .”
“Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow as my grandmother used to say.”
I turned my head to look at him. “Are you saying that the state poking around in my affairs is a small thing?” I asked tartly. Ross shook his head. Somewhere far away a barred owl called out for a mate. Hoo-hoo-hoo-hooooooo
“Of course not,” he rolled his head around casually and mirrored the frown that I was wearing. “I`m simply saying that if you act as if you have something to hide, then most people will think that you do. Relax. Have faith in the fact that you`re a good man with a good heart.”
“What if they say I`m not fit to raise him. If they discover I`m queer they`ll stuff him into the orphanage and-”
His hand tightened on the back of my neck. Ross pulled my mouth to his. I thought to draw back but the heat of his lips was too danged arousing. The smooch had been intended to quell the panicked state I had been slipping into. It worked. It slammed the worry into a wall, rendering it unconscious. That gave my libido all the room it needed to take center stage. I turned slightly. My free hand began rubbing Ross's thigh. His tongue slid between my lips. His kiss was tinted with rich cream and dark coffee beans. Tossing care to the wind, I grabbed his crotch. The man was thick and hard. A rumble rolled from deep within him.
If you had asked me where I thought I would be a year ago, the answer would not have been outside of Hannity Hills being seduced by my own daddy bear. Within moments, we both had each other in hand.
The kisses were growing in passion and aggression as we parried orally over who would be bottoming. I knew it would be me, but shit, shoving and pawing and trying to impose my will onto this sinfully arousing man was incredibly erotic. Ross finally had had enough. He pushed me away then slid from the swing to his knees. Panting like an overtaxed steam engine I let him remove my pants one trouser leg at a time. Andrew slept on inside the house; the soft strains of a love song hiding the groan of delight I made when Ross began to suckle me. My head lobbed backwards. The cool pond air on my exposed balls contrasted sharply with the wet heat of Ross's mouth. It didn`t take him long to have me trembling on the cusp of my release.
That was when he stopped, the miserable tease. He pushed my shirt up to taste and nip at my stomach and chest. His teeth nibbled at my flat nipples. I kissed him hard. He returned the favor, flattening his mouth over mine.
“Over and on your knees,” Ross grunted into my neck then drew some tender flesh between his teeth. I winced as he marked me.
“Unless you have a stick of butter in your back pocket . . .”
“We'll manage,” he whispered then bit a tad harder. I shuddered with delight. This was a rough and tumble Papa Bear. My favorite kind.
A moment of trepidation flared up about Andrew as I was hoisted into the position Ross desired. I was so hard it hurt.
“What if . . . he wakes up?” I asked, spreading my knees on the dewy grass as I grabbed hold of the arms of the swing. I heard Ross spit into his hand.
“He won`t.” Ross snuggled into my back, his shaft nestled between my ass cheeks. I inhaled sharply at the first probing nudge. “I know this isn`t the most romantic spot, Jon, and for that I am sorry, but I can`t wait any longer to make you mine.”
“God, don`t be sorry!” I huffed. He moaned, thrust, and then began a pounding rhythm that soon had us both convulsing. It wasn`t a tender moment by any means, but it was just what we both needed. My spunk slathered my hand. Ross was gently easing himself out when I looked back at him. Our eyes met. The little frogs continued to sing, now joined by a huge bullfrog. Ross pulled my back flush to his chest. He kissed my ear, jaw, and then, finally, my mouth. His prick hung flaccid against my slippery backside.
“Stay the night,” he said into my mouth. I shook my head. I couldn`t risk it although God knows I wanted nothing more. He laid his forehead to my shoulder, his arms tight around my waist. “I knew that would be the answer when I asked. Can we see each other tomorrow?”
“You`re welcome to come help me with the wash in the morning,” I said. He mumbled something about laundry and then slowly got to his feet. I stood up as well, hurrying to get my trousers and boxers up over my tender ass. Once I had my belt buckled I walked up to Ross and grabbed a hug from the rear.
“Mmm, such a big, strong bruin,” I sighed nuzzling the back of his neck with my nose.
“If I get too possessive or pushy, just swat my nose.”
I laughed into his wide back. “Possessive is pretty keen in my book.”
“Are you sure this old man is what you want?”
“Don`t be a meatball,” I assured him, kissing him behind his ear.
“You kids and your hep talk,” Ross mumbled. We stood pond-side for quite a spell, his hands resting on my arms. “We`ll get through this and come out on the sunny side, Jon.”
He was an optimist. How nice. My pessimistic nature could use a little sunshine.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
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