"I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me"
(Song of Solomon)
Together we are one
Sometime during the rest of the night James evidently woke up and went back to his own bed, the sleeping bag on the floor of the dormitory. I hustled to the bathroom, my piss hard-on pointing straight north, to not only relieve my bladder but rid my lower entrance and bowel of the accumulated spunk Malachi deposited there in our love-making during the night. Finished, cleaning myself with a quick wash-up, I decided, since it was early, to let everyone else sleep. All of us were up late celebrating the New Year, Malachi definitely was up, well, his dick was, most of the night, and, from James' description, Seth and Johnny well occupied their girlfriends a goodly part of the night as well. Letting everyone sleep wasn't to be the case I discovered as I started down the hall toward the kitchen.
Hearing sounds similar to James' whispered descriptions to me during the night coming from the bedroom Seth and I usually occupied, now by our guests, noticing the door slightly ajar, I cautiously peeked into the bedroom. I wasn't surprised to find two people in each bed nor surprised to see my younger brother bare-assed naked, Alicia's slim legs wrapped around his middle, laying belly to tits, pumping away, both obviously delightfully enjoying the conjugal art of making love as Seth reintroduced Mr. Happy to a snug, familiar berth. A similar activity was happening between Johnny and Megan in the other bed. I certainly hoped they decided to marry someday; neither seemed to be able to be without the other.
Stepping back, not wishing to disturb the fornicating couples, I hustled back to the living room where I immediately took notice of Malachi, flat on his back, uncovered, and his big stiff todger thumping up and down on his abdomen, anticipating another insertion into my now eager receptacle. I climbed on, straddled him, using one hand, guided his cock to my anus, pushed down until the thick knob popped in my rectum and slowly settled down until my pert ass cheeks rested on his crotch. I was full, really full, and began a morning ride. It resulted in another trip down the hall to the bathroom. In passing I could hear Seth was still at it. Nobody could say the Parker's, Chen's, and now the Duranleau's were sexually repressed, from what I'd witnessed thus far.
Malachi and I were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of tea when a very sleepy, barely awake, Terrance toddled out into the kitchen to join us. He looked both of us over carefully, decided Malachi's lap was larger than mine (it is since Terrance has grown more), wheedled his little butt up on it, leaned back against Malachi's chest, and gave a sigh of utter and complete contentment.
"Tired, are you, Terrance?" Malachi asked.
I expected him to make some mention of the noises during the night or perhaps the activities I noticed on my trips back and forth to the bathroom, but he simply made a sleepy nod of his head in acknowledgement asking as he did, "What's for breakfast?"
The snow appeared to be lessening, although we still couldn't see across the lake, when Malachi began fixing pancakes while I prepared the bacon and poured the juice for breakfast. The others began slowly drifting out from bedrooms to join us. Terrance merely took over Malachi's chair when he rose to begin breakfast.
Megan and Alicia were the last to appear. According to Seth, they wished to have a quick shower. Having two bathrooms with showers came in handy when we had company so it didn't take them long. From what I'd witnessed and heard during the night, the shower may gave them a welcome respite from their boyfriends, but I doubted it. James said not a word, but he did sort of cast a sly glance at Seth and smiled ever so slightly at me.
It was after nine before we finished breakfast and cleaned up. Terrance stood, hands clasped behind his back, looking across the lake toward Malachi's.
"I wonder how Percy's doing?" he pondered aloud.
Alicia wondered who Terrance was talking about so asked.
Terrance turned smiled broadly at her. "Why, he's the brightest, most talkative, and handsomest parrot in the whole world. He belongs to Malachi's Uncle Cayden, but he likes me best."
"And he's got a potty-mouth!" Seth added.
"Well," Terrance responded hesitantly, "maybe sometimes he says a naughty word or two."
Aaron just snorted! "Sometimes- about every other word. Remember when he squawked at Mrs. Taylor?"
Of course, they just had to tell the story.
As the others told the story, I gave Dad a call to see how things were going. He said the plows were just going through and he thought they'd be able to make it home before noon if we'd get the drive and parking area cleaned up. Mom also wanted us to take the goose out of the refrigerator, season it, and put it in the oven. She figured dinner would be a little late, but that was no problem with us since we had a late breakfast.
Goose in the oven, story told, Seth climbed on the garden tractor with the snow thrower attached and began clearing the lane to the county road. I got on the small farm tractor we had with a back blade and front bucket on it and cleared the parking area and in front of all of the outbuildings. Malachi and my brothers grabbed shovels, cleared the walk, shoveled out the paths to the woodshed and the outdoor wood furnace. Aaron and Samuel used long handled push brooms to clean off the solar panels. Seth had a hard time moving the snow where the lane entered the country road since the snow plow piled it up pretty high, so I used the tractor for that. It was all done when Mom and Dad drove in around eleven-thirty.
Shortly after breakfast on Monday, Johnny, Megan, and Alicia left for home. Their departure was marked with a few tears, long hugs, and several not so discreet kisses. Seth was truly and completely smitten and by the looks and sounds of Alicia she was as well. With the rest of this school year, summer, and their senior year ahead of them, the separation might seem overly long to the young lovers, as if I had any room to talk. I was willing to bet one or the other of them would work out some way to spend a great deal of time together in the coming summer. I know I would if I were to be separated from Malachi. I also thought Seth just might be a frequent visitor to us once Malachi and I moved to Madison for the school year.
As Johnny drove down the lane toward the county road, Seth stood out in front of the house watching them leave. I overheard Samuel say to Aaron, "At least we will be able to get a good night's sleep without being awaken by all of the grunting, groaning, and muttered sighs of do it harder or how much they love each other coming from Seth's bedroom."
How the folks couldn't hear it, I have no idea. Knowing Dad, he probably did and said nothing. I'm almost certain Grandpa Parker refrained from saying anything when Mom came to visit before she and Dad were married.
School activities kept us busy; there were basketball games, volley ball, and ice hockey events to go to; music contest to prepare for and attend as well as preparing for our spring concert band performance. At home our biggest project also began the second week of March when daytime temperatures were above freezing and the night temperature dropped slightly below freezing. It was the start of maple syrup season and hard work for all of us after school and on weekends.
Our "sugar shack," the shelter house where we boiled the raw maple sap, evaporating the excess water from it until it was syrup, was located behind the house, near the forest edge. It contained the necessary large metal trays we placed on the concrete sided "cookers or evaporators" (actually a two foot high, five foot long, three-sided fire pit with a smoke stack at one end to carry away the smoke), our storage containers for the raw sap, and nearby, a large stack of split wood to fire the pit. The large trays were placed atop the fire pit or fireplace, raw sap poured into them, and brought to a boil. Once the sap started to boil, the fire had to be tended carefully so as not to scorch the liquid and spoil the syrup and monitored until the sap reached the consistency of syrup as determined by testing it with a hydrometer, 31.5 SpG. Once the raw sap became syrup, it was cooled, strained and bottled.
The bottling and labeling was done in the house by whoever wasn't outside either collecting or boiling. Once the bottles were sealed and labeled, we'd market them during the summer or fill the standing orders from people who'd been buying from first Grandpa, then Grandpa and Dad, and now us. We would sell a quart of syrup for twenty to twenty-five dollars depending on the market, and would usually bottle a minimum of forty to fifty gallons of syrup each year. It worked out to between eighty and one hundred dollars per gallon. It takes up to forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup so we always hoped for a good "run" each year.
We used metal taps driven anew each year into the maple trees, plastic hose and plastic bags to collect the say as it dripped from the trees, emptied the bags each day into large covered containers we towed behind a snowmobile or ATV depending on whether we had heavy snow or not.
The trees we tapped were along the perimeter of our clearing and either side of two old logging roads leading off of the clearing and into the woods. One of those logging roads is the one we traveled to fish our favorite trout stream. Some of the trees were large enough to handle a "double tap" meaning two taps and two bags were placed on the tree. We usually put in about three hundred taps each year.
It was another new experience for Malachi. He tramped along behind me while I used a portable electric drill and bit to drill the holes in the tree. It didn't take him long to get the hang of driving the metal taps into the trees with a wooden mallet after I showed him how. We were followed by my brothers hooking up the hoses to the taps and hanging the bags on them to collect the sap.
It takes a couple of days for us to collect enough sap to begin the boil but once we start, we try not to get too much ahead. Weekends are busy working in the sugar shack and some nights during the week if the sap is having a really good "run." Dad admitted there were times he "just didn't make it to school" because he was busy "cooking." Once Dad and Mom were married, they'd come home on weekends to help Grandpa make syrup. Grandpa said they made babies as well. We all grew up helping with maple syrup and really enjoyed it.
We try to get most of our "cooking" done on the weekends. This year there was an early Easter so we'd have the three day break to really get some sap boiled down. The syrup season usually lasted about three weeks for us and Easter was near the end of the season. We'd be able to "cook" twenty-four hours around the clock.
As I drilled holes in the trees, I was in such a quandary, almost in a dither, as I chattered with Malachi about everything we had to do.
"We have graduation to plan for and Grandmother and Grandfather Chen's visit for that, announcements to send out for it, the Chen Family reunion, the Parker Family reunion, and our wedding to plan. We'll have to set the date, where we're going to have it, who will be in the wedding party, where and when the reception is going to be, send out the invitations, hire a photographer, decide on a caterer, and …….."
"Scooter, stop!" Malachi declared.
"You've drilled too many holes. I've run out of taps."
I looked back at our path through the trees and he was right, of course. I'd been so wrapped up in my concerns for what I thought needed to be done, I'd lost track.
"Scooter," he said, holding me close, his arms around me, and his soft, breath whispering in my ear (sending all of the blood in my body to my cock), "why don't we just sit down with your folks and Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden and work it out with them. Do you suppose they might have some ideas on how to go about this and maybe have some suggestions of their own?"
I was so embarrassed, although I really had no need to be, but Malachi noticed my distress, continued to hold me against him, crooning, "Hush, my love, you're just so excited about our wedding and our life together, it's understandable. I am too, but we need to calm down and let our love for each other lead us where we want to go."
The weekend cooking time, when someone tends the fire all night, is a good time to think and plan and so we did. Malachi's uncles, Mom and Dad, and Malachi and I sat around the cooker tending the fire and watching the sap boil and made our plans, He was right, they did have much to contribute and helped immensely. I roared with laughter as Mom said, "Ordinarily, in some families, the bride's family has all of this to fuss about and the groom just sort of shows up. Not in our case, we have both of the grooms here and they're going to marry each other."
She smiled broadly, stepped up and kissed Malachi and me on the foreheads. "And we are so proud of our fine young men who have found love with each other."
Unfortunately, however pleased Mom may be, our gathering to watch the sap boil to syrup raised more questions than answers. Would we opt for a large wedding or a small? If it was to be a small wedding, who'd be invited and who wouldn't? Would those not invited feel slighted or angry? Where and when would the reception be held? Would it cause a conflict between the two reunions ordinarily held at our place during the upcoming summer or should we ask both reunions be combined? If we had one big reunion, where would everyone stay and when would it be? Who'd bear the costs of such a large, special reception or reunion?
The one question Mom asked us was crucial to our eventual decision.
"What do you and Malachi want? It's your wedding, your life, and not ours."
Toward morning, Seth and Aaron relieved us at the cooker. Malachi and I drove over to his house for some much needed rest. Malachi wasn't as tired as I thought he might be.
Naked, laying comfortably in his arms, Malachi cooing words of love softly in my ear, alternating with his tongue tickling inside my ear and his kisses caressing my neck. I was hard as a rock and, by the feel of his member rubbing up against my thigh, he wasn't exactly soft.
Desirous of him, yet still trying to reconcile our wedding plans, I hesitated in my thoughts and discussion, to meet his warm lips with my own, after he pressed a finger against them and pressed his lips in the finger's place. His tongue tickled, licked, then wedged an opening in between my quivering lips, slipped his tongue into my mouth and began a waltz with mine. He pulled back momentarily giving me the opportunity to ask, "If we have one reception it will be massive. If we have two, it will be double the cost."
"Maybe," he responded his lips moving softly as he spoke, brushing my lips and my cheek, "there may be a way to avoid great expense?"
"Don't you have two of these?" he questioned, lightly, delicately kissing my now closed eyes. "Two of these," moving to my lips, softly kissing, nibbling my bottom lip, pulling on it subtly with his own, the warm air from his nose tickling finely my own nose and upper lip, causing me to shiver.
"And two of these?" moving to my right arm pit, licking, tasting, savoring before moving to my left to continue the same adoration.
His lips and tongue left my underarms, migrated south where they encountered my left nipple, now rising almost imperceptibly to a small eraser shaped bud, the rounded peak brought on by my rising sexual arousal. His tongue swirled in a circular manner around my nipple, moistening it, in an almost teasing manner before his lips slowly pulled it to his mouth where he suckled it lovingly, causing me to writhe, squirm, and beg him to fuck me.
It would not be. Slowly, hesitantly in order to prolong his desire and add to mine, he nosed across my small chest to my right nipple, commencing the same worship, only I thought even more stimulating and arousing than when he nurtured my left to a small peak. My cock, begging to be fondled, sucked, or just plain masturbated, leaked clear, sticky liquid onto my lower abdomen.
Releasing my right bud, he moved farther south, carefully caressing my torso with his fingers tracing imaginary lines down my stomach over to my right pelvic bone and back across to my left before returning to my nipple while lips kissed his route toward my navel, where his tongue began again it's laving, tasting various portions of my body, until he arrived at what I hoped was his final destination, my stiff shaft emergent from my dark, thick pubic bush ready to seek it's release.
Again, it was not to be!
Malachi glided past the instrument I knew to be one item of his desire and my relief to the inside of my right thigh, a most sensitive area, while his finger continued thrumming delicately on my nipple. He tasted, nuzzled, and savored my scent and my flavor, commenting, "Two of these?" referring to my thighs. He moved to my left thigh, ministering to it in the same manner, while still tantalizing my nipple.
Shivers and quivers rocketed up and down my naked body. I thrust my hips up encouraging him to love me, take my cock in his mouth, anything to bring me to my ecstasy. He obliged, looked at my stiffness, whispering, "One of these," slowly sliding his tongue up the underside of my jerking member. Malachi's tongue carefully touched my weeping slit and with a light, almost delicate, sweep, gathered the nectar oozing out, pulling it into his mouth, ingesting it as a delicacy meant only for him.
Savoring the taste, he placed his lips over my cockhead and, mouth open, descended on the hot stalk until the length of it rested in his oral cavity, the head thumping the roof, while his tactile tongue twirled on the underside of my cockhead.
I moaned, fearful of ejaculation if he kept it up.
"Not yet, my love," he urged, "there's more to come," lifting his head from my crotch, raising my legs in order to insert his face in-between my butt cheeks so his lips could suckle and his tongue bathe the place he'd eventually seat himself.
Malachi's tender, probing ministrations were leaving me short of breath, puffing my desires for a conjugal visit by his cock to my interior. This time, instead of cautioning me, he raised my legs to his hips, exposing my now very wet, palpitating, tantalizing, but well used, orifice for his and my pleasure. Malachi's stiff, long, thick penis, its large plum-shaped knob exposed, foreskin fully retracted, reared forth from his crotch portending a large spar on a sailing ship, almost pointing a way forward to a port of delight or a sea village for plundering.
Plunder he may, with my full and welcome consent! Holding his turgid cock with one hand, spreading my buns with the other, he guided the prow of the "Sloop John B" toward port, nudged the harbor entrance, and with a slow, determined push forward headed for a berth in the home port.
I am continually amazed, watching him sheath his length into me how in the world my small body is able to accommodate it, inserted until his pubic bush brushes up against my ass cheeks. Not that I'm complaining, understand. Once his cock expands my bowels, stretched to accept and become familiar with it again, I sigh with satisfaction, knowing in just a moment he'll begin our dance of love. There's nothing to compare my pleasure with, unless it's his kisses or his sucking or his fondling or just all of Malachi, my love.
Docked, thrusting back and forth, speeding up as we both race toward the dockside pleasure palace, Malachi's arms under my arms, his head resting over my shoulder, naked body on naked body, my cock rubbing his stomach with each push of his hips as he massaged my special spot and my intestinal muscles working magic on his marvelous shaft, fucking faster until I felt his cock swell as he pushed forward trying to reach maximum depth, and groaning each time he ejaculated. "I love you, Scooter," over and over as his voluminous, hot, sticky, milky-white essence began flooding my rectum.
I reached my orgasm simultaneously, my semen squirting out between us coating both of our stomachs and spread by my writhing in delight and his rocking back and forth while fucking me.
Malachi rested only momentarily before grasping me and rolling over onto his back so my smaller and lighter body rested more comfortably on him rather than him on me. I knew he wasn't quite ready to call it quits on this particular voyage since, even though our cargo was offloaded, his particular vessel was restocking for another trip.
"You know, Scooter," he began quietly, "Momma Parker had a pretty wise question to ask us- what do we want? So what do we want, really? I know I love those double items on you, as well as those single. Do we want one reception or two? How should we celebrate our marriage and announce our love to the world?"
It was the first time I heard Malachi refer to his future mother-in-law as "Momma Parker" and it pleased me greatly.
Cuddled together, we decided on having a simple civil ceremony at home with Dad performing the wedding; Momma would provide the music on our piano and perhaps Seth singing something; my brothers present, Uncle Dave Taylor and Uncle Cayden Allison, and Grandmother and Grandfather Chen, since they would be here for graduation. We'd have the wedding on Sunday, the day after graduation and a wedding supper at one of our local supper clubs. Announcements would be sent to our relatives announcing our marriage and opportunities to congratulate us, if anyone so desired, at the two family reunions. Those would be private affairs and any non-family members would be there only on specific written invitation. We'd have a dance at each of the reunions and wedding cake (sheet cakes) for guests. The only other items on our agenda was to hire a photographer and prepare a brief announcement and picture to appear in our local paper.
All of this was contingent on the approval of Mom and Dad and Malachi's, soon to be my Uncles, since they'd help foot the bills for all of this. The only costs, beyond what the Parker Family and Chen Family would spend on reunions, would be the photographer, the sheet cakes, the wedding dinner, the announcements and postage, and a band or disc jockey. The Chen's usually had one of their own for the dance they had so just maybe we could talk my cousin in doing the same at the Parker Family Reunion.
We discussed our plans with Mom and Dad and Malachi's Uncles. All were in agreement, making no objections concerning costs, although Mom and Dad felt they should pay for our wedding dinner since there'd be eight from my side and only three from Malachi's. Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden, as I began calling them, would have none of it, insisting on making some contribution. A compromise was reached; Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden would provide the cake at the receptions we'd have during the Family Reunions. The cost of the photographer would be shared by both families.
So while other high school graduates were celebrating their high school graduation with open houses for relatives and friends, Malachi Jericho Duranleau and Josiah Grant Dickenson Parker were married by Jedidiah Parker, father of one of the grooms. We became Malachi Jericho Duranleau-Parker and Josiah Grant Dickenson Duranleau-Parker. To our immediate family we remained Malachi and Scooter to all others we were Malachi Duranleau-Parker and Scooter Duranleau-Parker. Taking my last name as his was entirely Malachi's choice. I thought I'd become Scooter Parker-Duranleau but he insisted on having my last name for both of us.
"Without you, Scooter Parker and the support of your Mom and Dad and brothers gave me, I fear I'd not made the recovery I did or have not been long for this world."
It saddened me to understand how depressed and out of sorts Malachi was if he would consider ending his life, but created great joy knowing I and my family were so instrumental in bringing him out of it. Selfishness on my part I'd suppose, but I had him for me to cherish and love and would do anything for him.
Our wedding day was a beautiful spring day; clear blue skies and a bright sunshine. The ceremony was grand in all its simplicity; the music magnificent and the dinner in town outstanding. Mom and Seth (acting on Dad's behalf) gave me to Malachi and Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden gave Malachi to me. The ceremony was held in the living room in front of the fireplace.
Grandmother and Grandfather Chen, seated on comfortable chairs, accepted our bows of respect and words of honor to them, after the vows were spoken, and they, in turn, blessed our marriage in the language of our ancestors. A picture of Grandpa Parker and Uncle Grant sat on the fireplace mantel making me feel their real presence. My brothers had gathered wildflowers and Mom and Grandmother Chen arranged them in two vases displayed on two small round wine tables so they would be on either side of Dad when he married us.
The photographer took a jillion pictures it seemed; of Malachi and me on the dock in different poses, with the lake in the background, of Malachi and me during the ceremony, of all us (both families) together; Malachi and me with Mom and Dad, Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden, Grandmother and Grandfather Chen, and my brothers. Pictures were then taken of Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden, then one with Malachi with them, of Mom and Dad and then one of me with them, all six of us brothers, Mom and Dad and the six of us, and many candid shots at the house and then at dinner. It was a wonderful, memorable day in our lives.
My brothers were excited and happy, celebrating our marriage. Perhaps the most joyful was the quietest, shyest of my brothers, James. He could barely contain himself after the wedding ceremony, hugging us both several times, giving us little kisses on our cheeks, giggling shyly, and sometimes fought back tears of joy. It was almost as if our marriage "liberated" him, showing him there was a way forward for a gay boy, even a shy one, at his young age. Life probably would be no easier for him as a result, but now he'd have the continuation of family support, friends, and relatives from whom to seek support, guidance, and counsel.
The next morning Malachi and I walked down the road from the resort to the small cemetery where Grandpa Parker and Uncle Grant were buried. We approached their graves, placed a small bouquet at each headstone, and sat on the grass where we could see the engravings on the stones.
"Grandpa, Uncle Grant, this is my husband, Malachi. You first met him when we started going together. Grandpa, you were right; someone did come into my life and I'm so happy. Thank you."
Malachi sat silently for only a moment. "Thank you Grandfather Parker and Uncle Grant for allowing me to marry Scooter and let him share his life with me. I vow I'll not disappoint you or allow any harm to come to him. He is my life!"
We only sat a few minutes more before walking back to the resort and have our first breakfast together as husband and husband.
After our "proofs" were ready and Malachi and I chose our "official" wedding picture, we put our announcement in the local paper, noting the receptions would be private for family only. Grandmother Chen wanted to put an announcement in one of the Madison papers feeling there just might be those yet in the area who'd remember Jericho Duranleau and his son, as well as those who knew the Chen Family. Grandmother Chen was so proud and happy to brag about her grandson and his spouse; after all she'd known Malachi since he was just a small boy.
After our marriage, Malachi and I moved into his bedroom in the family quarters at Cayden's Cottages. As much as I was saddened by leaving home, it was more than compensated by us being together. We stepped in to help with house work and cooking as well as working at the resort. We offered to pay some sort of rent or make some contribution for living there, but Uncles Dave and Cayden would have no part of it. It was, as they so stated it, "the least we could do." I understood they didn't have the same response from their own families when they decided to live together and then marry.
I think Mom sort of hoped we'd live at home with them, but it wouldn't have been fair to Seth and the others. My bed was soon occupied by Samuel with a strong admonition from Seth, the first major fart and he was out the door and Aaron in! It wasn't as if we were miles away, we were just across the lake or ten minutes down the road, around the end of the lake.
I anticipated some stress with another person in the house, but was happily surprised it wasn't the case. We were two married gay couples living in the same house and sharing duties, as well as being related by blood and marriage. Although Uncle Dave is a really good cook, I wasn't too bad myself. I enjoyed my Asian heritage and cuisine, so tended to fix rice or noodles with most meals I prepared, which it seemed, to be more and more often. They didn't complain and neither did I. It left Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden free to work the resort or, in Cayden's case, work his county job without having to worry about fixing a meal when getting off work.
The resort was booked full for the summer and we were busy taking care of guests and getting ready for new ones each week. Malachi and I worked full time so Seth took over the lawn care business with my brothers helping as usual. They also manned the farmer's market booth in town on weekends selling our maple syrup. Usually, with advance orders, someone only had to work a couple of weekends before it was all sold out.
Aaron and Samuel were also busy filling the freezer with fish in anticipation of the Parker Family Reunion. It was thought there might be a bigger crowd this year because we announced one of our receptions would be there. The resort guests benefited from Aaron and Samuel's fishing trips since they usually stopped in to see us and were quizzed extensively by our guests on where the fish were biting.
For whatever reason, this year, the lake was just as busy, if not more so, than the resort. Chrystal Lake was not only known for its sandy beaches, secluded bays, and islands, but for the fantastic fishing, especially panfish; more specifically crappies. Crappies are one of my favorite fish, other than trout, to catch and eat. May to early June, prior to the time Crappies spawn and when they move to beds and early September to the end of the month when they stock up on feed for winter are the most productive. The boat landing parking lot, during those times, is crowded with parked vehicles and boat trailers and overflowing onto the shoulders of the county road. There are two ramps at the landing allowing two boats to be launched at the same time.
Several years ago, before we moved up here, the county installed a couple of pit toilets, drilled a deep well for drinking water, and erected a small open-sided shelter with tables inside for cleaning fish. Two big dumpsters were nearby for garbage and fish guts. A trash removal service stopped by twice a week when fishing was at its peak to empty the dumpsters.
Bears also recognized the opportunity to feast on the refuse, especially if careless fishermen failed to clean up their messes. The bears were generally unsuccessful in getting into the dumpsters, but it didn't stop them from trying. Once in a while we'd have a nuisance bear the DNR would have to live trap and haul away. This particular spring, we had several bears in the neighborhood trying to take advantage of a free lunch. Any smell of rotten fish, blood, or any decaying item would draw them. We figured there might be three at the most. Dad thought two of the three denned up back on our property somewhere or on the nearby public forest land. They were generally easy to chase away. It still didn't bring Malachi any closer to liking them around- tolerate yes, like, no. His first experience with a bear pretty well established how he felt.
Reunion plans were set, cakes ordered, my cousin agreed to provide dance music for both reunions (for a case of beer), and we were excited! A shadow was cast on our plans by an anonymous e-mail Uncle Dave received shortly after our marriage informing him we could expect "uninvited guests plan a demonstration over the 4th." He forwarded it to Dad and talked it over with Uncle Cayden who said he'd see if he could have an officer available on the Fourth, although they'd be pretty well tied up with huge crowds in the area.
Malachi and I were told and we both merely shrugged; we couldn't stop people from expressing their right to free speech, as long as their rights didn't interfere with ours. In our discussion with Mom and Dad, they seemed as unconcerned as we were.
"Anything which might happen would occur on the county road and won't affect us since we'll all be well off the road on our own property," Dad assured us.
My only concern was for those relatives driving in and out to go to the parade, the carnival, or arriving just for the day.
"I wouldn't worry," Mom said, "if someone wants to demonstrate, I'm certain it won't last long."
I should've become suspicious then. She was so much like Grandmother Chen.
The weekend before the Fourth, Chen Family members began arriving. Grandmother and Grandfather Chen were among the first, followed by my uncles and aunt and some of their families. Malachi and I were too busy at the resort cleaning cabins on turn-over Saturday preparing for members of the Chen Family who'd rented all of the cabins, to go over to the folk's house either Friday night or Saturday. Other than talking to Mom or Dad on the phone, we hadn't been over since mid-week. We did have ample opportunity to visit with Uncle James and Uncle Carl and the family members they had with them when they checked in. Once settled, they headed over to Dad's.
We were pleasantly surprised when Uncle James informed us my cousin Edward and his husband, Adam were arriving on Tuesday and would stay through the Fourth, on Thursday, and head for home on either Friday or Saturday. Uncle Dave offered one of the spare bedrooms in the family living quarters for them to stay in. This made Malachi and me happy since ever since Adam relayed his rape experience to us, Malachi and I enjoyed their friendship, even though they were older. Adam had much in common with Malachi and it gave them both comfort and support. As Adam explained, "You never really forget something like this, but you can't let it rule your life. Instead, you learn to cope with it."
Malachi agreed, although his coping skills and experience were more limited than Adam's. Since Malachi and I have been together, I've notice him relaxing more and dreaming less, so we're on the road to recovery.
Sunday morning, after reassurance from Uncle Dave and Uncle Cayden they could handle everything, Malachi and I climbed in my truck and headed over to Dad and Mom's. We spotted the first sign between the boat landing and two hundred yards from the lane leading to the house, tacked on a tree. It was similar, yet quite different, from those signs posted in parks warning people they are in bear country and to keep a clean campsite and not to feed the bears.
The message was somewhat the same on these signs, but with a very noticeable difference; on the sign was a picture of large, snarling, tongue-lolling, large toothed fierce-looking bear's head sending a pictorial warning to those who saw it; the meanest of the meanest mother-fuckers would rip you to shreds, devour you, and shit out only the fillings from your teeth. The sign said simply, "Danger – Wild Bears Present. Please remain in vehicles and avoid attack!"
Dad's ATV was parked at the entrance to the lane. Sitting on the seat was James, one leg crossed over the other, watching Terrance put up a sign on one of the lane gateposts. The sign being posted announced, "Private Property- Keep Out. Trespassers will be violated!"
We sat there a moment and while we did, I realized I was seeing my brothers in a totally different light. My marriage and moving out, even though just a short time, changed my perspective and I'm certain changed theirs's as well. It was hard to describe, but even though we were brothers, we each had our own lives to live, bound together by our family.
Malachi and I stepped out of the truck, walked over to the ATV, and I put an arm around James. He smiled his James smile before saying, "That's Terrance's idea. I'm curious to see what he'd do if someone would trespass." James sighed with faux resignation, "I suppose if it were a boy, I'd be called into service."
Malachi and I thought it was hilarious as did James. Terrance, on the other hand, having finished his nailing job, frowned at us wondering what the hell we thought was so funny. Not willing to take the chance, he leaned over quick to make a quick inspection of his zipper to make certain the fly wasn't open and his pecker hanging out.
James seemed so natural sitting on the ATV, his legs crossed, chatting with us; so much older heading toward the end of middle school and onto high school. The realization we were all growing up, becoming who we should be, going on with our lives, separately, yet united as brothers, the Parker Brothers, saddened me yet pleased as well, since our adult lives would be shared and celebrated as was our childhood. James must have sensed my mood, swinging around on the ATV, stepping off, hugging me, and whispering, "I miss you too, Scooter."
"I miss you too, James, but you know as long as either Malachi or I are above ground, we'll be there for you."
He simply nodded his understanding against my shoulder.
"God, what the hell stinks!" snorted Malachi.
"Rotten fish guts," James answered, "scattered up and down the ditches- both sides."
My eyebrows shot up in question.
"Aaron and Samuel's idea." James explained it in the same casual manner as he had the signs.
Once down the lane, arriving at Mom and Dad's, we greeted my grandparents, Mom and Dad, and settled down for a cup of tea and coffee cake, before wandering around greeting others who'd arrived and snacking on breakfast goodies with them. Made it nice, we didn't have to fix our own breakfasts- aren't relatives wonderful?
Malachi's greeting to Uncle Louie was cordial, not unfriendly, more wary, cautious, still not fully trusting of him. It was going to be some time, I thought, before a full trust was established. Thank god Uncle Louie was being very patient and understanding. He made no mention of Malachi's medical condition or health. Neither did Malachi!
According to Aunt Jen, when we asked, Seth and Alicia and Johnny and Megan (all four staying in their motor home with them), along with Aaron, Samuel, and several other cousins were at the beach finishing up preparing the swimming area. I was surprised it wasn't all done on Saturday, but was assured they'd all been busy. In addition, Uncle Louie and Aunt Jen didn't arrive until a little before noon on Saturday.
Malachi made no comments until we moved on to another motor home. "Busy fucking, I'd bet," and laughed. He should know, every chance he had, he was stuffing his monster up my little Cooter, balls deep, and pumping hard. All of which was just fine with me. I'm a bottom and he's my top and I love it.
We finished our round of visitation and eating and were walking back to the house to check the announcement board for work assignments to see what, if any chores, we were scheduled to handle when we saw Seth, Alicia, Johnny, Megan, and Aaron and Samuel tagging along behind, coming up from the beach.
"Oh my god!" Malachi whispered to me. "Alicia's almost enough to make a gay boy go straight."
Indeed she was and Seth almost enough to cause a straight boy go gay.
Seth, grin on his face, his black eyes twinkling like sunshine on obsidian, light brown color tanned slightly from the sun, lithe frame, hips narrow, slender waist, trim upper body, well developed from his workout in martial arts clad in one of the skimpiest saffron colored male string bikinis I've ever seen, barely covering his nicely bulging front package, with a few pubic hairs not totally concealed, and leaving just a hint of his ass-crack exposed, walked up to us, his arm around Alicia, holding her close to him. Jesus, he was good looking; a cock-hardening, butt hole twitching, lip-smacking good looking stud any gay boy or, perhaps, a straight boy who wanted to try the best available, standing on display.
Alicia, tight up against Seth's side, her arm around him (probably with a thumb hooked under one of the strings holding his suit on), long black hair cascading down her back to below the shoulder blades, smiling, black eyes glowing with happiness, was also slim, narrow hips and waist, very trim without an ounce of fat on her anywhere, almost delicate in appearance, light tan in complexion, and clad in a similar manner as Seth. Her saffron colored, very, very scant string bikini, with a top of two small, barely adequate cloth cups, held together by strings between and a string tying behind her to hold it in place, just concealing her breasts with the upper parts slightly exposed to fresh air, and a bottom to the suit equally as small in the front and the back, leaving little to the imagination in the back. The small cloth triangle in the front didn't look very large either for what it had to cover. It appeared to me in order to wear it, she'd have to either shave or wax her pubes. I didn't peek inside to find out. She was absolutely, dumb striking, fucking gorgeous; cock-hardening, pecker twitching, lip-smacking good looking to a straight boy who wanted to try the best available or gay boy who wanted to see what straight boys found so delightful. I must confess, neither Seth nor Alicia appealed to me. There was nothing to compare to Malachi in size or looks. He could stiffen me up just by smiling at me.
Alicia released her hold on Seth, stepped forward gave Malachi and me kisses on our cheeks and congratulated us on our marriage, wishing us well, and expressing her pleasure at our union.
They excused themselves to go get changed. Trekking up behind them, Samuel and Aaron stopped in front of us, ostensibly to check the announcement board as well.
"That little bit of cloth barely covers her muff," Samuel announced softly, nodding his head. "I wonder how Seth keeps from popping a boner when she wears it or keeps it in his own suit?"
"Not very well," Aaron answered, watching Seth and Alicia arrive at Uncle Louie's motorhome, "from what I saw down at the lake."
They walked away toward the house to change and another voice was heard from behind us, right behind us in fact.
"I thought about getting a bathing suit like Alicia's, but I don't like the color."
Malachi and I both swiveled our bodies at the same time, our mouth's agape.
"Close your mouths boys or you'll swallow some distasteful bug and get a tummy ache," Grandmother Chen proclaimed.
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