Josiah and I sat over our supper, neither one of us eating much.
“Talk,” I said.
He nodded before saying, “Caleb, I’m very sorry about what I’ve done to you. I don’t really know what I was thinking. As I said, Morris fascinates me. He’s very creative and a wonderful artist. I truly love his work, but I’ve finally realized that all he wanted me for was sex. I have to admit it was pretty amazing sex, but I never felt he really cared about me and I’ve decided I don’t really care about him.
“Now I don’t know how I can ever make things right between us again. Every time I’m a little bit late or a little distant when we’re together you’ll worry about whether I’m doing something behind your back again. I don’t know if you’ll ever be truly able to forgive and trust me.”
We sat silently for a few minutes staring at our food before I said, “I don’t know either, Josiah. I really thought you loved me. If so, why were you willing to jeopardize what we had?”
“I did. I do. What I felt for Morris wasn’t love. I’m not sure what it was, but it wasn’t love.”
The waiter came and asked if we were finished eating and if we wanted anything else. We asked for coffee. He cleared the table and returned a few minutes later with our two black coffees.
When he left, I said, “Josiah, I know you’re young, even younger than I am. I guess I’m not really surprised that you tried things with someone else. I can accept that. I can live with it. What I can’t accept is if you keep doing things like this. I love you Josiah. I think I always have, ever since that first night when you stood in our kitchen. But I need to believe that no matter what happens or what you do, you’ll be honest with me. You weren’t, and that hurts a great deal.”
“I know,” he said. “Would you believe me if I promised that from now on, I’ll be honest with you?”
I thought long and hard about that as our coffee cooled. At last I said, “Yes. I would, I think. Maybe that’s being rash or just naive, but I hope not.”
“Okay,” he responded. “I do promise, and I’ll never be dishonest with you again.”
I reached over and took his hand in mine. We sat, just gazing at each other. Then we stood and walked out of the tavern, hand in hand.
Back at our room I asked, “Can we just sleep tonight. I think I need to take things slowly.”
He looked disappointed, but he agreed.
I’m not sure about him, but I know I lay awake for a long time, thinking, wondering, whether we could ever get things back to normal again.
In the days that followed, we talked often, but never about sex. We talked about the inn, our family, and our jobs. Josiah was fifteen, and his last year of school would soon be upon us. But there were little gestures ─ a held hand here, a smile there ─ that seemed to be small steps toward reconciliation.
When fall came, Josiah returned for his final year of schooling while I continued to work at the inn. Increasing numbers of tourists were coming in the fall and both the inn and I were busy.
One night, as Josiah and I lay side by side in bed, I took his hand and gently kissed it. We turned, facing each other. I pulled his head towards me and kissed him tenderly on his mouth. He responded, kissing first, and then tonguing me slowly, fondly, lovingly. I felt myself growing hard and wondered if he was too. Moving my hand down his body I found his firm penis. I wrapped my hand around it and felt it pulse. He moaned as he reached for mine.
Soon, our hands were moving slowly up and down each other’s hard cocks, and in no time we shot our loads, not caring where they fell, on the sheets or on ourselves.
Lying back and still breathing hard, he said, “I love you, Caleb.”
“I love you too,” I responded.
We cleaned ourselves off and slept in each other’s arms until morning.
The following night we lay in bed together, naked, and slowly, passionately made love as we licked and sucked each other’s penises. I was overjoyed to have him back in my arms.
In the morning, before we got up, we pleasured each other again.
“You know, Josiah,” I said, “I don’t love you just because of the sex. I love you because of who you are ─ loving, caring, and truly sweet. I hope you’ll always stay that way.”
We dressed, had breakfast, and went out to our jobs.
One night, as we prepared for bed, Josiah said to me, “I want to do something with you which Morris showed me, something new which I think you’ll like.” He warned me that what he wanted to do might hurt at first, but he knew from experience that the pain would soon pass. He said he would be very gentle, and he assured me that if the pain was too bad, he would stop. I was apprehensive but I finally agreed to try.
When we were naked in bed and both our cocks were rampant, Josiah took a jar of grease which he said would lubricate what we did, although he didn’t say what that was.
Telling me to lie on my stomach, he began poking a finger into my butt hole. We had sometimes done that when we masturbated or sucked each other, and we knew that the sensations were arousing.
After a few minutes he began to use two fingers, saying he was stretching me some. When he moved to three fingers, I told him that was all I could handle. He moved his fingers inside me for a few minutes, and I had to admit that the feelings were amazing.
Pulling his fingers out, he applied grease to my hole and even worked some inside. I was surprised to see him apply grease to his cock and asked him what he intended.
“Can’t you figure it out?” he asked, grinning.
I thought I could, but I wasn’t too enthusiastic at that point.
I felt the head of his penis on my hole, and then to my consternation, he began to push it in. When he got in a little, he hit some resistance and I blurted out, “Ouch!” He stopped pushing for a few moments but then resumed. That happened three times as he pushed, each time moving in farther until he was in up to his balls.
The pain nearly stopped. I could feel him inside of me, and what an exciting feeling that was.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
He pulled out part way and, in doing so, struck something in me that thrilled me and nearly sent me through the roof!
“I’m told that’s your prostate,” Josiah said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
I had no idea what the prostate did, but his touching it certainly opened an entire new world to me.
Slowly, Josiah moved in and out, but never out all the way. By then I was ready to explode. I could feel the pressure rising and rising up my cock, the intensity growing until finally I exclaimed, “I’m going to shoot!”
“Okay,” he answered, and began pumping faster.
In no time I cried out and shot my sperm all over the bed, one, two, three times and more. Then I felt him throbbing inside me. When he shot, he too cried out.
Finished, we both collapsed, not worrying that we were lying in my sperm while his was slowly flowing out of me. I hoped the Trumbles hadn’t heard us.
We lay facing each other, and he asked, “How did you like that?”
I grinned and hugged him hard, kissing him with my tongue. “If Morris taught you that, then I guess your time with him wasn’t wasted.”
“Next time,” he said, “I want you to do me.”
I couldn’t imagine that would be as good as what I’d just experienced, but I agreed to try it.
I awoke in the middle of the night. We were still cuddled together. I smiled, moved even closer to him, and went back to sleep.
In the morning, my bottom was a little sore and I was even bleeding a bit. Josiah assured me that had happened to him at first, but the soreness and bleeding soon decreased and vanished. I wasn’t too sore to go to work, but I may have walked a little oddly for a few days.
The following night, as we had agreed, we switched roles. I followed all the steps that he had, and soon found myself inside him.
Lying beside each other after we finished, he smiled and asked, “Well, which did you like better?”
“Truly? I liked both ways.”
“Me too,” he said. After that, we paid no attention to who gave and who received and simply enjoyed the variety.
As I fell asleep, I couldn’t remember a time when I was as happy as I was right then.
In the weeks that followed, we explored the enjoyable new activity we had discovered.
One night when we had finished, I asked, “Do you know the name for what we’ve been doing?”
He shook his head.
“It’s called sodomy.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, I have my ways. It’s very illegal. Maybe that makes it even more wonderful when we do it.”
He laughed, saying, “How would anybody know we’re doing it?”
“Do you mean besides the Trumbles?” I asked and we both giggled.
“I guess we’ll have to be really nice to them, so they don’t report us,” Josiah laughed. We agreed, however, that if they hadn’t already reported us, we were probably safe.
At Christmas time, we took the train home, where we were greeted with many hugs and kisses. Edwin had grown taller. He hugged me and Josiah both very hard, and said, “I’m so glad you came.”
The family had never been big on giving presents, but there were small gifts from each member to all the others. The gifts weren’t important; being together and loving one another was.
After dinner on Christmas night, Father said that he had news for Josiah. He told us that Josiah’s grandmother had died. That certainly came as no surprise to Josiah. Father also told us that the insurance for the ship had come through and had been sent to him as Josiah’s guardian. He asked what Josiah wanted to do with the insurance money and with the house.
First, Josiah said that he wanted to sell the house and its contents. Then he asked Father if the insurance money could be deposited in a Provincetown bank. Father replied that both could be done but he would need our mailing address and the address of the bank. We gave them to him, and he said he would take care of the details.
Before we left, we asked if Edwin could take the train out to Provincetown to stay with us for a while. We assured our parents that we’d find a separate room for him and they agreed.
Eddie rode back with us. He stayed for a week before he had to return to school. We told him he could go to school in Provincetown, but he wanted to get back to our parents and his friends, especially one girl he was enamored of. We put him on the train with many hugs and waved as the train pulled away.
In the spring, when it was time for Josiah to graduate from school, the entire family rode out to be with us and to witness Josiah’s success. Not only did he graduate, but he was at the top of his class and so he had to give a little speech. He was both serious and funny, grateful and cute. As I sat listening I thought, the longer I know him the more I love him.
After the ceremony, our parents hugged us, and Father took me and Josiah to the bank to open an account. He wanted to know whether it should be in Josiah’s name or be a joint account. Josiah immediately said it should be in both our names. That business concluded, our parents took the train home while Edwin remained with us for the summer. We got him a job in a store and a room at the Trumbles’.
One day over supper, Edwin said, “You know, I was really upset when you two left, but seeing you here, and seeing your love for each other, I completely understand why you did it.”
“I’m sorry we hurt you,” I replied.
“Well, I’m fine now. I love you both and I hope Father and Mother will let me come here often. I don’t want to leave home like you did, but I want to be able to spend time with you two.”
“We’ll see to that happening,” Josiah said.
At the beginning of September, when it was time for Eddie to return home, we bought his train ticket and stood with him at the station until it was time for him to get on board. We all hugged; we all had tears in our eyes. Goodbyes are never easy, I suppose, but we knew we’d see him again, perhaps at Christmas.
We did see him at Christmas, and after that he began coming to visit us each summer, working at the inn and enjoying Provincetown.
Josiah and I grew closer and closer, if that was possible, as we lived in the town we had come to love with the person we each had come to love.
Many thanks to my three editors for their diligence and time. They helped clear up a number of questions. Also of course, many thanks to Mike, who maintains the site for all of us.
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