Scooter and Malachi
by Nicholas Hall
Chapter 7
"Until the day break, and the shadows flee away."
(Song of Solomon)
Dinner with the family
Malachi's announcement sent my senses and my mouth sputtering! Trying to ask the many questions flooding my mind, so desperate I was for more information, but my quest was thwarted by my Dad, stepping forward, offered Malachi his hand and introduced himself.
"I understand, from your Uncle Dave, you received great news today, Malachi?"
Malachi grinned, happy to share his news, and, I think, to reassure my father he wasn't about to pass on any infectious diseases to his son.
"I sure did, Mr. Parker! I'm much relieved. Without your help, I don't know what would've happened to me and I thank you so very much!"
I noticed Malachi's eyes glisten in thankful tears as he spoke to Dad. His comments swirled more questions in my mind, wondering how and why he thanked my Dad and how they were acquainted. I was almost certain they'd never met, just the way they reacted to each other. Besides, if they had, I was certain Malachi would've said something to me. Again, my questions had to take a back seat since my brothers all decided to give him a hug as well. Since all were much shorter, especially James and Terrance, Malachi had to bend over during the process, giving him cause to lean on his cane more and more.
However, it was the hug from James which struck me the most! I overheard James whisper unhappily, "I'm sorry those men hurt you so bad, Malachi!"
Malachi held him just a little longer than the others, and a little more closely to his body, responding, "I'll be fine, James; after all I have your big brother Scooter, you, and all of your brothers to help me heal."
"Josiah," Mom announced amongst all of the giggles, happy talk, and hugs between Malachi and my brothers, "why don't you show Malachi the house and then, while Mr. Taylor, Mr. Allison, and Dad have their before dinner cocktails, you boys can relax, visit, and enjoy a soda before dinner!"
My hopes to be alone with Malachi just wasn't to be, at this time, since my five brothers joined us in the tour of our house. Seth pointed out our bedroom, making specific mention of the bed I occupied, noting "it's really quite large for a single bed" and winked at me. Aaron and Samuel spent some time showing and explaining our electrical control panel, how the storage batteries stored electricity from the solar panels in the yard, and the use of converters or "invertors" from the DC power to AC power. Malachi commented how nice it must be not to be subject to outages on the power lines like "Cayden's Cottages" could be in a storm.
Aaron agreed, but noted there are some limitations. "When we have our two family reunions here, Dad switches on the generator so enough electricity is available for all of the camping units set up in the yard. The solar panels and storage batteries just aren't enough!"
Malachi's brow furrowed at the mention of family reunions, questioning, "What family reunions and when?"
The Minx quickly interjected, explaining the Chen Family, Mom's side, had their reunion around the Fourth of July while the Parker Family, Dad's side obviously, had theirs each August two weeks before the start of school. "There's really a big bunch here over the Fourth!"
"Big bunch" was an understatement! Mom's family was large! She was one of nine, seven boys and two girls. All were married and from the oldest down each had a minimum of five children. It was really a huge crowd if all came and most did! Grandfather and Grandmother Chen were still alive and, in deference to their age, Seth and I gave up our bedroom for the week they attended the reunion. In addition, they tried to come up a couple of times per year to visit. Grandmother Chen refused to come up during February, claiming it was the snowiest month and with her short stature, she feared becoming lost in all of the snow.
I wondered how Malachi would react to all of the cousins, my aunts, and uncles on Mom's side at the reunion. There were so many names to remember and it gave every appearance of mass disorder or confusion with people all over; swimming, water skiing, visiting, eating, playing yard games or board games, fishing, boating, and on and on! All of this activity would go on for a week. Thankfully, nearly everyone had their own camper, tents, or stayed at the motels in town.
Dad always commented the Chen Family gave the appearance of pandemonium in a paper bag making one fearful to open it since the contents would spill out and infect everyone with laughter and good times. Mom thought more in terms of a small United Nations since there was so much diversity in her family.
The Parker Family wasn't much different I thought. Smaller in number, it didn't reduce the good times they loved and weren't quite as reserved as the Chen Family usually was. For example, if you wandered around at night and if the water was nice, it might be wise to stay away from the lake front. Discovering relatives and friends in states of dishabille wouldn't be unusual. I guess Grandpa Parker, Dad, and we six boys came by skinny-dipping naturally. Mom, on the other hand, not being inclined to skinny-dip (perhaps when it was just her and Dad), would order us to stay clothed when swimming; which we did while she was around.
I wondered how Malachi would react when he skinny-dipped in the lake. I remember Dad telling us the story of his first encounter, while naked, with the small fish nibbling on his foreskin while he stood in the water. It was something that happened to each of us boys as well as we were introduced to the lake and it's finny inhabitants. If a fish nibbled on Malachi's foreskin, the fish would have more than a mouthful.
Walking past my parent's room, on the way to bathroom, Malachi spotted Dad's crutches leaning against the bed.
"Whose sticks?"
James, almost glued to Malachi and me, answered,
"Dad's; he only has one leg and needs them to shower and get up in the morning when he doesn't have his prosthesis on."
"No way!"
"Yep!" added The Minx confidently. "A city bus ran over his leg when he was little; smashed his leg like stepping on a bug – squish!"
"Terrance!" Aaron cautioned.
"Well, it did!"
I think, at that point in time, Malachi saw my Dad in a different light, realizing he'd suffered, but probably physically not as much as Dad. I think Malachi suffered more emotional damage than physical, but only time would tell. Dad seemed to be able to conquer the emotional trauma of losing his leg; I hoped Malachi could shake the emotional distress of his rape as well.
Walking along, James, either snugged up against me or Malachi, seemed more relaxed and less shy than usual, especially around non-family members. He was just as open and content with Malachi as he was with me. It was good for James for others to see what a great guy he was- shy, unassuming, but great.
Ending up on the porch where the adults were gathered for their drinks, we each picked up a soda and Malachi, James, Seth and I continued our tour out into the yard, moving toward the dock. The others decided to stay on the porch, hopefully to help Mom set up the appetizers prior to dinner. We walked slowly, knowing it'd be difficult for Malachi to navigate the uneven ground. We'd had enough experience with Dad to know how bothersome it can be.
James, as we walked toward the dock, seemed uncharacteristically chatty; full of questions, and providing the answers to Malachi. "Had he ever been fishing?"
"No!"
Well, according to James, his brother Scooter could take him, show him where the big crappies and sunfish could be caught, how to motor troll for Northerns and walleyes; where the best trout streams were, and how to catch "monster" Brook Trout. His brother Scooter could show him where the Canada goose and gander had a clutch of eggs, where the fox den was behind the house, what a bobcat looked like, help him tell the difference between a coyote howling and a wolf howling, where the poison ivy patches were and how to avoid them, the best places to find the best blueberry bushes and black raspberries, where the porcupines chewed on some trees, a beaver lodge, and,
"What's really fun," James ascertained, eyes big and glowing, "my brother Scooter can take you out on the dock at night, let you put your head on his chest, and watch the Northern Lights or he can point out the North Star, or Cassiopeia, or Orion's Belt." James paused, took a deep breath, and looked at Malachi.
"My brother Scooter is really smart and can help you with your homework when you have problems with it!" He paused again, this time, very proudly, stated, "The best part; my brother Scooter knows how to make the very best pancakes in the world and can teach you how to use chopsticks to eat them with!"
Malachi stopped walking, pulled James into a hug. "James, if I hadn't been positive before, your brother Scooter would be the most perfect and special boyfriend for me, you've convinced me now and I'm so thankful!"
"Really?"
"Really!"
James hugged Malachi back. "I'm glad, 'cause my brother Scooter is pretty special to me too and I want him to be so happy!"
James remarks brought moistness to my eyes and made my heart proud. He'd been so intent on extolling my virtues to Malachi, making certain Malachi was aware of how much he loved his brother and how great he thought I was. How can you not love James?
Mission accomplished, James turned to Seth; "bet it's almost time to have some munchies before dinner!" and started toward the house.
I heard Seth speaking to James as they walked away. "You know you're pretty special too, James!"
"Really?"
"Really!"
Malachi pulled me close, lifted my chin with two fingers, lowered his head to mine so our lips touched, sending his lustful heat into me, as he pressed forward passionately, almost desperately, kissing me. Our bodies pressed close, I could feel his long, hard, thick arousal pressing, seeking release from the confines of his pants, stabbing with considerable force against my lower abdomen, thrusting ever so gently, just above my own fiercely erect cock.
Fearful we'd both mess our shorts and the result, soaking through our pants would provide visual evidence of our passion and indiscretion, we pulled apart and began our walk toward the house and those now gathering on the porch. The faint odors of those delectable appetizers we'd fixed earlier wafted in our direction, hastening, as best we could, our steps. As we neared the porch, Malachi, evidently thinking it over before commenting, leaned closer to my ear.
"What chopsticks were James referring to?"
"The ones we often use to eat with!"
"Oh!"
His single word comment caused me to realize he'd probably never used chopsticks. After hemming and hawing, our walk slowed, he explained he only saw them used in movies or on television shows. Using chopsticks for us wasn't a novelty; we used them just as normally as we used knife, fork, and spoon. As far as we were concerned and according to what we learned, each type of utensil had its own useful purpose, depending on what was served. The fact we used chopsticks at home more than in public, was quite simple; we had them available at home all of the time and most "white" people didn't use them, preferring "normal" table service.
"Mom's of Chinese-American heritage," I explained, "and although her family is pretty well 'Americanized,' they still enjoy some of the traditional customs of their grandparents, my great-grandparents, and are passing them on to us. She regularly uses a wok and a steamer to prepare traditional and non-traditional dishes with since we enjoy them so much."
It didn't mean we didn't enjoy "American" foods because we certainly did, but Chinese offered a variety to our diet as well as more vegetables and less meat and more fish than the "American" dishes might.
All of us, my brothers and me, learned early on how to use chopsticks to eat many dishes with, except Dad who just didn't seem to have the coordination, or the desire to use them regularly. Oh, he did, but often with some resistance until reverting to a knife, fork, and spoon. Chopsticks were always on the table and we were free to use them or not.
Malachi and I walked up the steps and joined the others on the porch. Stepping inside, he leaned over to me, whispering, "I need to sit down, my foot is killing me and so is my arm from using my cane!"
Oh, my god; I forgot how tiring and painful it must've been as far and as long as we walk, absorbed in the presence and closeness of Malachi.
"Why didn't you say something? We could've just gone a short way and turned around."
"And miss being with you," Malachi mused, "or hearing James do everything in his power to convince me how you'd be such a good boyfriend for me? No, way!"
There were chairs and a couple of small tables on the porch, in addition to the larger tables we'd use for dining and the large, elongated one where the appetizers were, later to be replaced by the dinner buffet. I made certain Malachi was seated comfortably at one of the small tables, and offered to get him a soda ("lots of ice, please) and a plate of munchies for us to share. I carried two sodas, two glasses of ice to the table, and returned to the table to fill a plate full of goodies. I also picked up two sets of chopsticks and also two sets of regular table service.
Malachi took a long drink of the cold soda and watched me break apart the chopsticks, separating them.
"Do you guys speak Chinese too?"
"Oh, some," I answered casually, not even thinking why he might be asking it. "Mom is very fluent since they spoke it a great deal around home, especially when her grandparents were alive, but Seth, Buzz - Aaron, and James are really good. James is probably the best since he speaks it as well as Mom!"
"Dad insisted we learn another language so we all speak Spanish; Seth also is taking French in high school. James is ever so smart, he not only speaks Chinese like a native, but Spanish and French. He listens to Seth's French lessons and learns from it. Dad hopes someday he'll go into the foreign service since he seems to have a natural affinity for languages, but somehow I sort of doubt it! He's only ten going on eleven so he has plenty of time to sort things out. How about you, any foreign language?"
Malachi looked around the porch, watching my brothers helping themselves to the appetizers and eating items with chopsticks and sort of sadly waggled his head.
"A year of Spanish in ninth grade. Mom thought it was a waste of time. You guys are so lucky!"
The sadness in his face distressed me so I quickly changed the subject. Breaking apart the chopsticks, I carefully tried explaining and demonstrating how to use them.
I must admit, it always looks simple when you watch others use them; blunt ends resting at the base of a forefinger between the forefinger and thumb, held lightly but securely in place by the thumb across each stick; forefinger and middle finger, and sometimes the ring finger, bent slightly pressing and manipulating the pointed ends of the sticks to open and close, clasping bits of meat, vegetables, noodles, rice, and moving them to the mouth. However, actually using them takes practice.
I demonstrated using a couple of pieces of chicken, lifting them, and telling Malachi to "open!" and fed him. Malachi tried numerous times and finally succeeded in maneuvering a pot sticker to his mouth. I smiled my approval, but James, evidently watching us, scurried over, joined us at the table with his own plate, declaring proudly, "See, I told you my brother Scooter could teach you how to use chopsticks! Isn't he just wonderful?"
Mom and Dad both looked our way, a half-smile, half-frown on their faces, just as surprised, not at the chopsticks, but at James' openness with Malachi.
James, message delivered, accolades delivered and well received, scampered away to refill his plate. In his absence, Malachi, laughed aloud softly at my younger brother's antics.
"James certainly loves his big brother doesn't he?"
I could only agree; his big brother loves him just as much!
I was only six, going on seven, when James was born. He was a healthy boy, who, from early on, was quiet, easy to care for, but if he became upset, it was only me who seemed to be able to calm him down. As the oldest son, I saw it as my duty, out of respect for my mother, to help her with the littler ones. James, as son number five, would lay patiently while I changed him, giggle and laugh at bath time, but if he did get upset, holding him close to my chest and singing softly to him would settle him down, bringing soft, little sighs, and sounds of contentment. Mom was always so thankful for my help and Seth's as he grew older and was able to help.
As James grew older and was able to sit up in the tub for his bath, he was in seventh heaven if I stripped down and joined him, letting him play with his bath toys, pouring water back and forth into containers, pushing little boats around as he settled between my spread legs allowing me to wash his hair and scrub him all over.
Before he entered school, he would wait patiently, setting on a small stool, looking out the kitchen window so he could see us come down the lane after the bus let us out after school, waiting for his older brothers, especially me, to walk toward the house. His hugs for me were especially tight, as if he thought I might never return to spend some time with him.
He'd play quietly on my bed while Seth and I did our homework, knowing I'd read him a story when I was done. Seth and I were only a year apart and were not only brothers, but best friends. James saw me not only as his big brother, but his idol, his protector, his confidant, and the one he sought out when he was afraid, had questions, or just wanted to be held. I happily obliged!
The Minx, on the other hand, outgoing, gregarious, much like Grandpa's sister, Aunt Adele. He was Seth's shadow, always one step behind or beside, and received the same loving treatment from him as I gave to James. Same family, but two totally different boys! As James and Terrance grew older, Terrance seemed to be the one who could figure out some devilment or adventure, while James was the steady calm voice of reason.
Samuel (Boomer) and Aaron (Buzz), also just a year apart, were great buddies, best friends, and almost inseparable. What one couldn't think of, the other did. If you found one, the other wasn't very far away!
As a group, all five of my brothers looked to me as their leader and to Seth, as their protector. Seth and I made a good team and I know I'll miss him once I left for college, but that was still a year away. I still had my senior year of high school to finish.
Looking at Malachi, I hoped Seth would understand I wasn't abandoning him, still loving him, but I now had someone else in my life; a someone I loved in an entirely different, most comforting and satisfying way; a someone I could share my life with and never want to be separated from.
Dad and Malachi's uncles carried their drinks outside to the grills in front of the house and began putting steaks of the hot grates.
"Hope you like your meat medium-rare to medium," I said nodding toward the grills.
His eyes twinkle lasciviously. "I really prefer a nicely tanned, not overly brown piece I can savor, roll it gently on my tongue, holding it in my mouth until the full essence of its flavor can be realized!"
"Not that piece of meat you doofus!" I snorted. "I mean steak!"
Malachi became serious, leaning toward me, speaking softly so others couldn't hear; "Seriously, how do you have them fix yours? I've not eaten much steak! Dad was a student most of the time so we lived off of Mom's wages and what he brought in through grants, salary as a graduate assistant, or dance jobs! I did have a savings account Dad set up for me, however!"
"Medium-rare!"
I was fast discovering Malachi had fewer opportunities in his life then we had in ours. Dad's income was very, very good and Mom was an excellent accountant, although she hadn't really started to work up here, except during last tax season. I hoped we wouldn't make him feel out of place or unwelcome because of what he had and he didn't have. As far as I was concerned, everything I had now, I'd share with him; I hoped he'd accept that.
The steaks were put on platters and placed on the table along with the roasted vegetables, hot rolls, salads, and other sides. We filled our plates and then filled out stomachs. With the choice of apple and cherry pie, Malachi took a piece of each, with Mom's blessing, and enjoyed them immensely. Finishing our dessert, Dad asked Malachi if he was looking forward to opening weekend and resort work all summer.
"I think so, Mr. Parker, although I've never done it before. In fact, I've never been fishing so I don't know what to expect when guests show up wanting to fish. I've never worked during the summers, except when Dad and I worked the summer dance stock companies. I didn't really work all of the time then, only danced parts Dad thought I could handle. He didn't really want me wearing myself out and end up disliking it. What I earned he put in a saving account for me. All of that disappeared when he left!"
I perked up, aggravated, "Did he take it?"
"Nah, my mother made off with it; claimed it was hers by rights!"
"How much?" chirped The Minx.
"Terrance!" Mother cautioned, trying to make him understand it was nobody's business, especially his.
"That's okay, Mrs. Parker; it's only money and I'm still alive."
My heart ached suddenly and the rest of the table grew quiet.
"There was several thousand dollars in the account. Dad always told me it could use it for college someday. Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden said I can earn a lot more working the resort if my wages and especially the tips, are included. I didn't even know guests tipped resort workers."
"Only the ones they like," Seth grinned, "and the good looking ones. That's why I never tried to get a job at one of the resorts around here, none of the other workers would make a dime in tips!"
Dinner and our evening together had to come to an end. We still had school in the morning, although there was very few days left and Malachi would have his first opening day on Saturday, so we all needed our rest.
There was no shyness or embarrassment on our part when we hugged each other and gave our goodbye kisses. Evidently Mom and Dad were well pleased with my choice of a boyfriend, although we still had a great deal to learn about each other, but time would allow it and dating. It sounded so weird to say Malachi and I were dating, but that's what it was; the period of time during which relationships deepen and people learn more and love more or decide the relationship is not what is desired or possible.
Early Saturday morning, fishing opener and Malachi's first experience with the opener at "Cayden's Cottages", found Seth, James, Terrance, and me wheeling the ATV, cart attached with Terrance and James seated in it holding on while keeping our fishing poles, bait, and tackle from jouncing out and spewing across the logging road I was navigating, heading toward our best trout stream back near the end of our property where it bordered National Forest land.
Dad, Samuel, and Aaron were in the fishing boat, heading up the lake toward several favorite underwater reefs or structures and rock outcroppings where they hoped they'd be able to hook a few Walleyes. They'd use various baits, including jigs (tipped or not tipped with live bait), weighted hooks with either minnows, worms, or leeches attached, or spinner baits. There was a slight breeze creating what is commonly called a "walleye chop" to the water giving their baits a natural drift and not cause the fish to "spook" by any action of the boat. They'd drift fish across what Dad thought would be productive structure anticipating catching a fish or two. They'd motor troll on the way home, when finished, fishing for Walleyes and Northern Pike.
Although there are times Seth and I prefer to use small spinner baits for trout, with Terrance and James along we chose night crawlers as our bait of choice, drifting the crawlers into holes and around rocks, under logs, and cut banks. Doing so, we hoped to be able to entice a trout or two to "take the bait" and end up on our stringer. Our goal was to catch enough trout for breakfast for all of us and have some to take to Malachi as well.
Malachi never tasted trout before or fished for them either, a situation I intended to remedy once he was able to navigate the streams and logging roads. There are several really nice streams nearby, containing nice populations of trout, which are not fished very much by the general public because of access problems.
I laughed to myself remembering Dad telling the story of his first time eating trout. He didn't know what "trout" was or how to eat them until Grandpa explained and demonstrated. It was also Dad's first meal with Grandpa, breakfast, and his first time having trout, eggs, toast, and hash brown potatoes. It's his favorite and ours to this day. Well, not all of us; Samuel and Aaron prefer Walleye fillets, but still will chow down on trout.
It was a good opener for the Parker Family; during the three hours we fished the trout streams, we kept twenty of the many trout we caught. The smallest we kept was twelve inches long and the largest was fourteen. Dad, Samuel, and Aaron were just docking the boat when I drove into the yard with the ATV. Our lake has a fifteen inch minimum on Walleye to keep and, although they caught plenty of fish, only kept nine. On the way back home, they motor trolled for Northern Pike and caught four; the smallest was twenty-two inches long and the largest was a very nice twenty-nine inch fish.
We put our gear away and headed toward the screened in fish cleaning house Dad built while in high school, to clean our catch. There was a sink with water and a steel table with low raised sides to contain any water or offal and a plate-sized hole at one end where we could slide fish carcasses and entrails through to a large bucket below it. We kept several fish filleting boards there to ease our work as we used the super sharp knives to fillet the fish. Trout weren't filleted but left whole, minus head and guts. Walleye were filleted into two boneless and skinless pieces while the Northern Pike were filleted into five boneless and skinless portions.
"Five cuts!" Grandpa Parker instructed so many years before as he taught Seth and me much as he had Dad. "Five cuts and you have five nice boneless Northern fillets."
Northern is a firm, flakey, white meat and is delicious, for those who enjoy it and makes great fried and baked fish as well as chowder and tacos.
I saved four nice sized trout to take over to Malachi's later in the day and placed them in the fridge to cool. Dad did the honors in fixing breakfast; trout, eggs, toast, and hash brown potatoes.
After breakfast, Seth and I traveled around to some of the local pubs, grocery stores, bait shops, and any place allowing notices to be posted, putting up advertising posters for "Parker Lawn Care Service." We'd mow and rake lawns and do other types of work for people who, rather than do it themselves, would rather hire it done. We figured this might be especially appealing to weekenders and seasonal cabin people since it'd free them to enjoy the lakes, streams, or forests. There were plenty of employment opportunities for young people during the summer at camps, resorts, and retail businesses, but we thought we'd rather be "our own boss." Dad suggested we send letters to town boards who had cemeteries to care for as well as churches. Although most had their own people to care for their properties, there just might be one or two that didn't, so it was worth a shot.
We had all the equipment needed to do lawns, a trailer to haul it, and my truck to pull the trailer. Seth and I opted to grab a burger at one of the burger joints rather than go home for lunch so we could hit all the places we could think of.
It was about four in the afternoon before I was able to go over to Malachi's. Instead of driving over, I decided to take the boat since "Cayden's Cottages" is just across the lake. I had to promise to be home before six since Samuel and Aaron wanted to fish Walleyes in the evening. James and Terrance begged to go along. I finally relented when James confessed the real reason they wanted to go was to see Percy.
Life jackets on, it didn't take me five minutes to head across the lake and tie up at the main dock at "Cayden's Cottages." It was a short walk to the office/store and the three of us entered to find Mr. Allison behind the counter. There were several people in there, browsing the merchandise available for purchase. Malachi was nowhere in sight! Looking around, I announced we had some fresh trout for them, holding up the paper bag containing the zip-lock plastic bag with the fish in it.
"Please take it up to the refrigerator in the kitchen," Mr. Allison said, adding, "If you're hunting for Malachi, he's up in his room resting. He's had to hustle pretty hard today and needed a break."
The Minx darted around the counter, motioned to Mr. Allison to bend over so he could say something to him he didn't want anyone else to hear, and Mr. Allison nodded his approval, saying, "You know where he is, but if he gets too rambunctious, toss the cover over his cage!"
Placing the fish in the refrigerator, I heard Percy whistle first before squawking, "Pretty boy" followed by "nice ass sweetheart," and began singing, "Yank my doodle it's a dandy" before I started up the stairs to Malachi's bedroom.
Peeking in, seeing him sound asleep, flat on his back, shoes off, wearing only socks and cargo shorts having shed his light blue "Cayden's Cottages – Staff" tee-shirt and draping it across a chair, prompted me to step quietly to his bedside. His arms above his head, resting on his pillow, dark hair revealed in his arm pits, slight, barely visible moustache on his upper lip, and the rest of his torso devoid of any hair, was oh so tempting. I couldn't resist laying a hand on his nakedness just above his beltless cargo shorts, lean forward, and caress his lips with mine.
The softness, the warmth, and his taste brought an instant hardness to my cock, but my touch opened his eyes, first in surprise, then delight, as they twinkled his pleasure and telegraphed his desire for me. I quickly shed my shirt and tossed it in the general direction of the chair his was on.
Malachi reached around me, slowly drawing me closer, running his hand up and down my back, until my smaller body rested, his nakedness pressing on my, and his hand slowly sliding under the back of my jeans and under the waist of my shorts, over my smooth, round butt cheeks, until one finger began a gentle, curious exploration of the valley between and the small, puckered pleasure place he sought.
He moaned into my mouth as I squirmed, attempting to get closer, pressing our now stiff cocks, covered by cloth, together, and squealed softly into his mouth as his finger found and entered slightly my twitching anal opening. I wanted him beyond all belief as our lips engaged in loving contiguity, our bodies maneuvering, our faces positioning trying to seal our union even closer as his finger began a gentle, but so stimulating little movements in and out.
We remained so joined, until he moved his other hand from my back to between us. I raised my hips to give him better access and felt him unbutton my jeans, slide the zipper down, and feel around until his fingers began sliding up and down my stiffness, enclosed in my boxer briefs. He dipped into the fly, explored the sparse pubic hair above my arousal, moved down to cup my balls, before pulling the elastic down until he could encase my now naked arousal in his warm, soft, and supple hand and began rhythmically moving it up and down, slowly masturbating me while his finger remained embedded in my butt-hole!
Shuddering in his mouth, I signaled my approval and thrust slightly back and forth adding to my pleasure!
"Do me," he pleaded.
His wish was my command! Raising my butt again, careful not to dislocate the delicious digit, I fumbled around until I was able to loosen his cargo shorts, pull down his underwear until his long, stiff, thick cock was exposed, the humongous head just peeking out from his soft foreskin, awaiting my attention. My hand cupped his large testicles encased in their soft, almost hairless sack, before journeying up to clasp his hard, velvety smooth, and throbbing man-piece and began moving the foreskin up and down bringing forth a dollop of Cowper's fluid to the slit. I ran my thumb over, around, across the head; a bulbous, weeping head swollen with desire and slit, spreading the copious Cowper's fluid flowing from it around and under the soft ridges of his cock, bringing a whimper of erotic pleasure from him.
We hastened our ministrations to each other, not to hurry our encounter, but to reach the orgasmic climax we both wanted.
Such a feeling!
So stimulating!
So explosive, as we erupted together in bursts of white, sticky, hot semen and sperm; his more voluminous than mine, coating his stomach and my chest with our emissions. I collapsed on him, my hand still on his cock, one of his hands on mine, and the middle finger of his other hand still inserted in my backsides.
"I love you, Scooter Parker," he whispered, "more than I thought I'd ever love anyone!"
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