Gif's Island

Copyright © 2013 Nicholas Hall

Chapter 9

“Indisputably, a great, good, handsome man is the first of created things.”
(C. Bronte’)

His pronouncement was given quietly, yet he feared looking toward me, unwilling to face me and his sorrow should I reject his proposal of love for me and him personally! All those traits and qualities I used describing loving Cameron years before, I now felt toward Stony and more. He wasn’t Cameron or would ever replace him; Stony and I’d be different lovers, not forgetting my past, but not letting it interfere with or hinder my new relationship in my love for Stony.

I rose from my chair, ignoring the slight pain and stiffness in my left leg, and stepped to where Stony sat.  Carefully removing the glass from his trembling hand, placed it on the table, and taking both of his hands, lifted as I bade him to stand.  As he did, I brought my arms around him, pulled him close to my, lay my lips along his neck next to his right ear, and murmured softly, breathily into it, “And I love you too, Stony,” and felt him relax in my arms!

Moving my hands from his back, I lifted my hands to his face, tracing lightly across the brow, placed a hand on each of his flushed cheeks, and held him steady while moving my lips to caress his, kissing him with a gentleness, but warmth and passion.

“I’ve never kissed a guy before,” he confessed after my initial contact, withdrawing momentarily.

“Then just relax and let it happen,” I responded lovingly, “you’ll love it and want more.  I always do,” and returned my lips to engage once again with his, nibbling on the lower lip, planting both of mine on his, tickling them with my tongue, seeking entrance to his oral cavity wanting to engage his tongue in a dance of titillation and desire!  He responded by opening and allowing me to explore and taste him, touching with my tongue his own wiggling fleshy sensor; withdrawing, opening my own mouth, I encouraged him to do the same.  We remained locked, our tongues dancing, each with the other, our lips securing us to the other’s heat and desire.

My hands, holding his face in a feathery embrace, lifted and wandered to his soft brown hair, my fingers grazing through it softly as a butterfly flitting over a flower, lightly dusting it with gossamer wings seeking a soft landing, a sweet place to insert its proboscis!  Stony sighed deeply again, satisfied, pleased and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even closer in his growing eagerness.  His jeans did little to conceal his arousal now pressing up against my own denim trapped hardness!

Releasing his mouth, kissing his forehead and his neck with a lightness intended to arouse even more, I murmured “Come my sweet one, let’s go to our bedroom and explore each other, prepare ourselves for a new life and a beautiful adventure together!”

Taking his hand, I led him slowly to my, soon to be our, bedroom. His steps were tenuous, hesitant, a manifestation of his tenseness, consternation, and timidity he felt internally.  In an attempt to relieve him of his disquietude, reduce his very visible jitters, I whispered, “It’ll be just fine; can two lovers do naught but seek fulfillment in each other, reducing barriers in their passionate embraces?”

I slipped his shirt from his smooth, taut chest, and as I flicked my tongue from one nipple to the other and back again, I drew them to an upright tightness of erotic desire!  I slowly unbuckled, unzipped, and maneuvered his jeans down over his almost non-existent hips, letting the blue baggage fall to the floor, leaving him only in his low-rise boxers, a hard cock straining at the cotton confines, holding it trapped and leaking.  As I tucked both of my hands under the waist band of his boxers, preparing to unwrap the treasure he possessed, he shuddered, pleading nervously,  “Don’t be disappointed or laugh, please; I’m not very big, even stiff, not like those guys I’ve seen on the Internet or pictures in magazines.”

Stony was so worried he’d fail in fulfilling my expectations, I stopped, brushed his lips with mine, removed my hands from his sides and moved them to his back, just at the elastic above his inviting crevice and responded, “You’re just fine, I’m certain.  I’m nothing that great either so, relax,” and slithered my hands under the waistband and cupped the mounds of his butt in them before resuming my unveiling process!

Moving my lips down his silken body simultaneous with the removal of his shorts and, when my lips encountered his soft, sparse pubic hairs at the base of his very erect and twitching love stick, I nuzzled that base, moved the remaining soft sheath back from the head, revealing the whole of that heavenly stalk, the tip dripping with sticky, sweet pre-cum. The tip of my tongue encountered that oozing slit and lapped up the essence of him for the first time, savoring it as one would a fine wine.  Stony whimpered, an anxious, passionate, soft mew signaling his eagerness, his pleasure, and complete delectation for my ministrations to his naked body!

Standing, I undressed, allowing my clothing to gather at our feet, wrapped my arms back around Stony, drawing his warm, soft flesh to mine, allowing our pulsating penises to touch and slip up and down in a slight, but stimulating rhythm.  Reaching behind him once more, my fingers re-discovered the cleft separating his young, flexible, taut mounds, and slipped the middle finger of my right hand down further until I was able to stroke lightly over his virgin portal! He moaned in delight, thrusting up against me as his pleasure built and suddenly erupted from his cock, fluid spreading across my abdomen and naval, in a higher quantity then I ever produced, even in my younger years.

“Oh, shit!” he cried in dismay, “I’m so sorry,” and leaned his head on my breast, clearly disappointed in himself as a lover!

He sagged from post-orgasmic relief and as I held him securely to me, I freed one hand, soothed his soft hair, pressed my lips to his and then to his neck and ears as I murmured comfortingly “Shhh- not to worry; you’re doing just fine.  You’ll recharge soon enough,” and eased him to our bed of rest.  I wiped myself clean with my boxers, joined him, embraced him, and pulled a blanket up to cover us.

Stony lay quietly, allowing me to caress him, calm him, and give him reassurance.

“You’ve never been with anyone before, man or woman, have you?” I whispered softly.

He slowly waggled his head side to side, responding, “I never had any desire to be with a woman, always fantasizing about men.  I didn’t think a person could cum that fast, just by being in contact with someone.  I suppose I’ve spoiled it for you, haven’t I?”

“Not at all; you’ve no idea how much I’m enjoying you and your pleasure.  A relationship is more about how the other person feels and what you can do to bring joy, comfort, and pleasure to them rather than to yourself.  We have a lot of time ahead of us to be together and learn together, so relax, the night isn’t over yet. Just do what you find pleasurable to yourself; it’ll do the same for me!”

“There’s only one thing I’ve ever done,” Stony murmured softly reaching for my hard shaft and began wanking it.

“Stony, that’s just fine,” I sighed and reached for his semi-hard cock, cupping his balls, rolling them about in my hand, stimulating him and me, before gripping a hand around his growing turgidity and beginning a slow sensual masturbation hoping to prolong his next orgasm and allow him time to enjoy himself!

When I woke in the morning, sexually satisfied and relaxed, yet excited concerning my new relationship, Stony’s right leg was across my body, his now soft member resting up against the right thigh, his head snugged up against my neck, arms securing me tightly to him as if he were fearful I’d leave him, lightly snoring, in a deep, restful sleep.  I felt myself rising to the occasion and, knowing I’d awaken him when I moved, slowly slid out from his embrace and reversed my position so his beautiful man piece, sheathed within its intact sheath, was but a fraction of an inch from my lips.  I gently lifted it and engulfed it to the root.  Swirling my tongue around under the foreskin, tasting the residue of last night’s emissions, I quickly brought it to a stand and him to full wakefulness.

“Whoa,” he moaned, “what a way to wake up in the morning,” and realizing what I was doing, followed my lead, tentatively sucking my hard cock into his mouth.  It was a short lesson, but well learned.  As I felt his balls tighten and abdomen tense, I experienced a rising in my own shaft as my gonads boiled over when he shot his offering into my mouth.  He spewed a very healthy load, coating my tongue, bringing me to swallow more than once as each twitch and throbbing spurt loosed sticky, white, thick-as-custard cum into my mouth, wondering if he’d ever divest himself of his stored little wigglers.  He stayed suctioned to me, taking my smaller offering and consuming it as I did his.

As we lay in each other’s arms after our loving, Stony remarked, “I never did that before.”

“And?” I asked.

“It was great!  I imagined the taste would be disagreeable, but you taste just fine; slightly salting, nutty flavor kind of, and not unpleasant. In fact, I enjoyed it!”

Kissing him, I replied, “and I enjoyed you, but we’ve got to get up and get going.  Today’s going to be a busy one if want to get everything ordered for our electrical project.  I also want to talk to Mom about renting a banquet hall for her wedding reception.  She hadn’t planned on it since it’s just family, but I thought a dinner reception would be a nice gift to her.  With the wedding only a couple of weeks away, I’ll have time to hire a caterer for the meal.”

As we did chores and had our breakfast, I’d look up and see Stony smiling at me.  Smiling back, I’d communicate, wordlessly, that I felt the same way.  He and I found every opportunity to touch the other, not necessarily erotically, but just to keep contact, finding pleasure and reassurance in each other’s presence. We motored to Hennessey’s Landing in town, walked up to Mom’s house and while she and I met in the kitchen to discuss her reception, Stony used my credit card to order the solar equipment we needed to electrify the house, barn, and well.

Mom and I were involved in a heated discussion concerning my proposal for a reception when he joined us.  She insisted it wasn’t necessary since it was family only; and I insisted it was much more than that.  She deserved to celebrate her marriage and have family members celebrate it with her and Jim, not unlike the wedding feast at Canaan!  Stony sat silently as we bickered and finally interrupted.

“Mrs. Gifford,” he asked, “would it offend you or Jim if you did have a fine reception?”

“No - not really.”

Turning to me, he asked, “Do you love your mother?”

I scoffed, saying “Hell yes, I do; she’s been my rock, my support, loving me no matter what I did or what a jerk I was!”

Nodding, he turned to Mom, asking her, “Do you love your son?”

“More than life itself, but what he’s proposing is so expensive!”

Stony shook his head, turned back to me and asked, “Can you afford it?”

Before I could respond, Mom interrupted, “Of course he can and more! I just didn’t want him to spend so much on me!”

I nodded, concurring with Mom.  “Yes, Stony, I can afford it; many times over.  I wasn’t here for her first wedding and I am for this one.  She deserves all we can do for her.”

“Then, Mrs. Gifford soon to be Mrs. Anderson,” Stony announced with a smile, “enjoy your son’s gift. I’ll announce it at the wedding.  Right now, J.T. and I have to go since we have some shopping to do; we need bread and milk and some other stuff,” and flashed that goofy smile of his.

Mom looked at me, winked, stood and gave Stony a big hug, saying, “Welcome to our family, Earl Henry Jackson.”

Stony was right, we had a busy afternoon!  A trip to the farm store, where you can buy everything from carpet to lawn mowers to electrical fixtures and beyond (including their giant toy sale beginning in mid-October), filled the back of the truck with black, semi-flexible inch and a quarter plastic water pipe,  pipe for the submersible water pump, sheets of six inch thick Styrofoam insulation, roles of 30R fiber glass insulation, a couple of rolls of smaller, flexible water tubing (when filled with water and anti-freeze and heated from the solar heater would aid in keeping our water pipes from freezing), electric junction boxes, mounted wall pugs, twelve volt heavy copper electric wire, connectors for water and electric, frost-free water hydrants, plastic pipe for inside water distribution, plastic drain pipe, anti-freeze, and God knows what else – I finally lost track and just paid the bill!

I looked over the back of the truck and was about to pronounce it full when Stony asked if there was a salvage yard in town and we ended up there.   He nosed around until he found a propane hot water heater from a wrecked camper, loaded it (after I paid for it), smiled, and finally nodded his head in satisfaction.  Thank God!

Back at Hennessey’s Landing, we loaded everything in the big flat boat and I waited until Stony took the truck back to Mom’s and walked back to the Landing.  I was thankful, again there was no wind!  One of these days, however, we’re going to be caught in one and I hope we don’t have as big a load as we have today!  We motored down Johnson Slough, around the Island and into the cut opening to the lake in front of the cabin.  Once there, it took us better than an hour to unload everything and store it in the barn where Stony could access it when he needed it.

Standing with his hands on his hips, a big smile on his face, he announced, “Tomorrow, J.T., we can begin,” and leaned over, giving me a quick kiss.  Well, that wasn’t enough for me, so I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a proper, long, tongue teaser, bringing his favorite toy to attention.  After dinner, we relaxed on the porch.  Days were growing shorter and nights cooler; it wouldn’t be long until we’d have to have a small fire in the wood stove in the mornings to take the chill off.  Our night in bed together was just as pleasurable as the night before, but more relaxed, since we were becoming more familiar with each other.  I was hesitant about introducing him to anal sex, just yet.  Gay relationships were new to him, although desired and enjoyed, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him or overload his sensory field – yet.  Stony was proving to be a considerate, gentle, and passionate lover and we enjoyed each other more than once that night!

The next morning, after chores and breakfast, we tackled the trench we needed for the water pipes to the house and the chickens and pigs.  I wielded a shovel for about an hour before my leg and my arm began tormenting me. Stony noticed my distress, dropped his shovel, stepped over to me, and took my shovel, saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how difficult this’d be for you.  Why don’t you rest for a little bit while I do this?”

I quickly agreed, happy for the rest, but feeling guilty that I wasn’t sharing the work load.  Watching him struggle breaking through the hard top soil, I had a thought.  I limped to the barn, fired up the little Ford tractor, attached the two-bottom plow to the three-point hitch, and drove it to where he was working.

“Mark out where you want the line to go and I’ll break through the surface with the plow.  All we’ll have to do is scoop the loosened dirt out with the shovels.  If I can drop the plow deep enough, I can make a second pass.  Once below the frost level and the pipe laid, we can use the front bucket on the tractor to refill the trench.”

We spent the rest of the day digging the trench and laying the pipe.  Stony explained we would lay the six inch foam alongside the pipe, cover the pipe with gravel and dirt, then lay another sheet of foam on top.  The frost wouldn’t penetrate the foam and would go around the pipe, sparing it from freezing.  Along with the smaller tubing carrying the heated antifreeze and water mixture from the solar heater, the pipes wouldn’t freeze during the coldest weather.  By the end of the week, Stony had water and drain lines installed in the house and stubbed in for the kitchen and bathroom, hydrants ready outside, and the well/pump house constructed and insulated.  He worked hard, but it looked great and was ready for the pump.  I hoped it all worked; Stony assured me it would and I had little doubt that it wouldn’t!

Monday, Mom called on my cell phone and informed me our order had been delivered to the house.  I was relieved it was here, the wedding was the next Saturday and we were going to be very busy toward that weekend and I was equally as certain Stony would want to start the project this week also.  We motored to town, walked up to the house, loaded the order, and I was prepared to go back to the boat, but Stony had another order to place, needed another visit to the farm store, and the salvage yard.  While he made the order on Mom’s phone, I used my cell to call the caterer and give him my final instructions.  We expected about seventy-five for the buffet I ordered (entrees: roast beef, ham, chicken, and BBQ ribs), salads, and the dessert table.  I also ordered wine for each table as well as soda and water for those who preferred that or were too young for the alcohol.  As an afterthought, I ordered a wedding cake since I knew Mom had not.  She and Jim did have a photographer lined up, so I didn’t need to do anything there.  The rehearsal dinner was Friday night, so Stony and I’d come to town and stay over until Sunday, since it would be late Saturday when the ceremony and festivities were over.

At the farm store, we purchased the submersible well pump, piping, two deep-cell marine batteries to store power to run the pump, connectors, fittings, a self-composting toilet, and a tub-shower combination.  The salvage yard was the source of a vanity, sink, and bathroom mirrors (one for over the vanity and the other, a full-length mirror for the bathroom door).  Once again, we filled the boat to almost overloading, but made it home just fine!

Stony started to work as soon as we unloaded the boat and stored the purchases in the barn.  While he worked assembling the solar panels and placing them on their south-facing stands near the pump house, I proceeded to fix lunch for us.  When he came in to eat, he was sweating but happy as a kid with a new toy.  I should suppose, for him, it was a new toy.  He was so capable of doing, fixing, building things, I was more than impressed.  I knew I was lucky to have met this handsome, talented man!

After lunch, he needed my help hooking up the water connections, the regulator which distributed power from the panels to the batteries, the submersible pump and pipe, and finally the water pressure/storage tank.  He had a Y-valve connection in the main pipe to distribute water to the house and to the chickens and pigs.  Installed on each line was a shut-off valve so, if needed, water could be shut off to one source or the other for repairs or whatever.  Instructing me to walk down to the chicken yard and open one of the hydrants, he flipped the switch to power up the pump.  The faint whine of the pump was followed by the sounds of water rushing up through the pipes and into the storage tank.  Standing with the hydrant open, I heard the gurgling and “whoosh” of air exiting the pipes and then the sweet sound of flowing water.  It gushed out of the hydrant, spraying my feet and hands, but did I give a shit?  Absolutely not, we had water!

We were worn out by bedtime that evening, almost too tired to make love- almost, but not quite.  Stony didn’t slow down the next day, but began tackling the water for the house.  He located the hot water heater in the now-converted-spare-room to bathroom, enclosed it, and set up a gas tank outside with a regulator and line in.  By separating the hot water heat gas from the kitchen range, we could better keep track of the use. Once the tub/shower combination was installed and piping attached, he located the vanity and sink, hooked up the water, set up the composting toilet, and hung the mirrors.  Running plastic water pipe along the floor baseboard, where he would enclose them later, he drilled holes through walls until he reached the kitchen sink, and hooked up the water to it.  The drain line was placed, with sufficient drop, below the water lines, and extended back to the bathroom, where it joined the drain pipes, and from there, under the house to a French drain he constructed north of the house.  All of this was covered with more insulation and foam.

By mid-afternoon, Stony had the hot water heater hooked up and operational, the water and drain lines in place, and the tub/shower, the vanity, and the kitchen sink with hot and cold running water.  He stood, hands on those slim, inviting hips, and declared, “We’ve got the essentials, J.T.; after the wedding, I’ll cover the lines, do the finish work in the bathroom and kitchen, and put in some cabinets. I think when it’s damned cold in the winter and snowflakes are trying to crawl up your ass, we’ll find that toilet more than just nice. In the meantime, I think I’ll take a break and have a drink.”

I agreed, fixed our drinks, and brought them to the porch.  As we sat, enjoying our libation, our eyes kept drifting to each other, admiring and loving the view each of us sought.  After supper, Stony insisted I be the first the use the shower, but I insisted he was the one that brought it to fruition so I proposed a compromise; we’d shower together.

Showering, gently sliding soapy hands across each other’s bodies, it wasn’t long until we had firm grips on each other’s cocks, sliding up and down, tickling and stimulating the glans to climax and cum-firing orgasms. When we fired, I watched again as Stony erupted spurts of three or four healthy gushes of cum, finally dribbling little snorts until finished.  I thought it was a great deal, compared to me, but my experience was limited to him, Cameron, and myself.  It really made no difference, Stony was here and he was mine and we HAD HOT WATER ON DEMAND!


Thank you for reading “Gif’s Island – Chapter Nine-––"Indisputably, a great, good, handsome man is the first of created things.” – C. Bronte’

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Nick Hall


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