Dressed to the nines, we took a cab to the restaurant. I didn't want the bother of driving and parking my own vehicle. Moreover - having resolved to accompany our meal with some fine wines and liqueurs - I had no desire to be nabbed for driving under the influence.
I sensed Matt's nervousness when we reached the restaurant. He'd obviously never dined at a proper restaurant before. I think it daunted him to encounter discreet lighting, plush chairs and elegantly dressed patrons.
We were shown to our table and I indicated that Matt should sit facing the view of the city skyline and the river. It flustered him to have his chair pulled out for him; and he looked surprised when the waiter unfurled a linen table-napkin and placed it on his lap.
The waiter disappeared to fetch menus. I took advantage of his absence to wink at Matt and tell him he was the most beautiful person in the room. He smiled at this but continued to dart nervous glances around the restaurant. He seemed particularly fascinated by the pianist who played softly in an out-of-the-way corner. Presumably, he'd never previously seen anything fancier than a juke box.
A drinks waiter approached. Without consulting Matt, I ordered Campari and soda for us both.
'What is it?' Matt asked.
'It's an aperitif' I told him. 'An appetiser. It tastes kind of dry and it prepares your palate; clears it for the tastes of food and wine to follow. Trust me, it won't kill you. Besides, I don't think they do strawberry thick-shakes here.'
He laughed and seemed to relax a bit.
Our waiter returned and handed us a menu each. For the next few minutes I received a stream of queries from my young friend. Patiently, I explained what the various meals were.
The menu was written in a somewhat pretentious mixture of English and French but it might well have been in Swahili as far as Matt was concerned. Words like chateaubriand, cotelette, filet au poivre, gratin and jus were terms he'd never seen or heard before.
'Tell you what' I suggested. 'How about I order for you? Would that be OK? What do you like best? Beef - poultry - fish? Whatever.'
Matt readily agreed, saying that he liked most things but had never actually eaten fish before. Apparently it was generally chicken or pot roast back home, with home-grown vegetables and home-killed meat. I promised that his first taste of fish would be a memorable one.
The Campari and sodas arrived. Matt gave his a cautious taste, screwed up his nose, took and another sip, and then declared he quite liked the bitterness.
I won't bore you with a detailed account of our first formal dinner together. Suffice to say, we munched our way through pate with Melba toast, poached salmon with delicately steamed vegetables and then mousse au chocolat.
The sommelier was only too pleased to serve the wines and liqueurs I ordered. I think he thought me a connoisseur of fine wines. The reality was that I simply ordered the ones that Martin had commended to me over the years.
With a few drinks and some food inside him, Matt finally relaxed totally. We chatted, we laughed and we toasted each other with glasses raised.
'Here's to a long and happy a life' I suggested.
This seemed to remind Matt that all good things must come to an end. His face fell as he muttered that his life would be far from happy once he returned home.
'Don't worry about that tonight' I urged. 'Too early to discuss it now, but I'm mulling over a few ideas on how to get you away from Pig Hollow; rescue you from Pa and the two stooges. So cheer up, kid. Let's just enjoy the moment.'
It amused Matt that I persisted in calling his home town "Pig Hollow".
'It's Plainsville' he insisted. 'And Pa doesn't keep pigs.'
'From what you've told me, Matt, he doesn't need to. He is a pig.'
'Anyway' I continued; 'for the next few hours, let's pretend Pig Hollow has been wiped off the map. Let's inhabit a small, private town of our own. One with just two inhabitants - you and me; one where everyone else is irrelevant; one where you and I are all that matters.'
Matt smiled his agreement to this.
Our meal over, I told Matt I felt like visiting a club and dancing till dawn.
'I'll need to dance for a month' he groaned. 'I feel so full. I've probably put on twenty pounds while sitting here.'
I laughed and then caught the Maitre D's eye. He was with us immediately and I asked if he could recommend a good dance club we might visit.
In a discreet whisper, he asked if I meant a gay dance club.
'Yes' I replied.
Now, I'd never been to a gay bar or club in my life but it suddenly sounded an attractive option.
Having discreetly slipped a twenty into his hand, I obtained directions to a club called The Men's Room.
'It is the best, Monsieur' he assured me in a totally bogus French accent. 'And safe. You and your friend will enjoy it, I assure you.'
Leaving a liberal tip in our wake, Matt and I departed.
Outside, the cool evening air was refreshing. The club was not far away so I decided we might as well walk.
'There's actually a place where guys can dance together?' Matt asked.
'Apparently so. Probably several. I'm no expert. Never been to one before, so we'll be newbies together. You do like to dance, I suppose?'
'I love dancing' he replied. 'I jig around to the radio at home and I watch music video clips when I get a chance; when Pa and my brothers are out working.'
We could hear The Men's Room long before it came into view. Loud dance music and a pounding rhythm assailed our eardrums. I imagined it would be almost deafening inside.
A man stood at the entrance. Behind him was a staircase leading to the club itself. I paid the joining fee - giving our real names - and the entry fee as well. The guy suggested we might want to check in our jackets and wallets with the cloak-room attendant.
At the top of the staircase, we removed our jackets and ties and checked them in as suggested. I took a few notes from my wallet and stuffed them into a pocket of my suit-pants.
I suggested that Matt follow my example and unbutton his shirt about half-way.
And, after that, we turned a corner and found ourselves absorbed into a sea of flickering lights and a roar of sound.
Walking behind him, I admired - for the thousandth time - Matt's trim butt and lithe figure. The pale grey suit I'd suggested he wear was one that fitted him perfectly. Our stylist - Mario - had ensured that Matt's trousers were like a glove around his slim hips and thighs. The briefs I'd urged him to wear ensured that there was a discreet but provocative bulge at his crotch.
Glancing around, I could see lots of guys - young and old - checking Matt out. He had an unstudied but sensuous way of walking. Quite unconsciously, his walk accentuated his charm and naivety. It forced one's mind to think of youth, fitness and raw sex. I felt proud to be with him.
The bar was surrounded by patrons in search of liquid refreshment. Sensing he'd be anxious if left alone, I asked Matt to keep me company while waiting turn to be served. When we'd finally acquired some exorbitantly priced dry white wine, we found a sparsely inhabited spot from which we could watch the dancing.
The insistent throb of the music was infectious and demanding. I felt compelled to move my hips to its rhythm. Matt was doing the same. We downed our drinks with a gulp and then - astonished by my own bravery - I took Matt by the hand and drew him into a fantastic aura of sound, light and laughter.
We were swallowed up in a sea of revellers. And yet I still thrilled to the intimacy of dancing with my new-found friend. It was as if we formed an islet in a stormy sea of flickering lights and deafening sounds.
Until that night, I'd always considered myself a reasonably good dancer. But Matt was an absolute revelation. What moves he hadn't already possessed, he quickly acquired by watching the dancers around us. It was heady stuff. I found myself matching Matt's moves and we danced like men possessed. I don't think a smile ever left our faces.
After an eternity on the dance floor, we were both perspiring heavily. Droplets of perspiration glistened on Matt's brow and his smooth chest. As the night wore on and the crowd started to thin, I was better able to appreciate the joys of uninhibited movement.
All cares and problems fell away. I felt invincible. I wanted the night to last forever.
We were interrupted occasionally. Several guys tried to make a move on Matt. Some even tried it on me. I left it up to Matt. If he wanted to dance with another guy, I was perfectly willing to let him do so. But he didn't. We stayed together the entire time. And it was fabulous.
Well after 2am, we were back on the street again. It was quite cool by then and we hastily shrugged on our suit jackets. I hailed a passing cab and asked if there was a late-night piano bar in town. To my surprise, he suggested the very hotel where we were staying. So that's where we went next.
On the mezzanine level of the hotel - with views over the vast foyer on one side and views of the city on the other - we were relieved to sink into soft and comfortable chairs and fall under the spell of soft lighting and tranquil piano music.
A waitress approached and informed us that it was policy that men wear a jacket and tie.
We pulled our ties from our jacket pockets while I ordered an Irish Whisky for each of us. By the time she returned, we had complied with the dress code. Matt had needed help with this. I happily arranged his tie for him; an incredibly intimate thing for me to do in a public place. A day or so previously, I would have been embarrassed. That night, however, all inhibitions were dead.
It was almost 4am when we reached our suite. As soon as the door was closed, we went into a tight embrace. Matt sucked my tongue deep inside his mouth, leading me to imagine my dick lodged deep inside his ass.
We helped each other to undress. We did it slowly. It was a bit like a striptease. For me, it was also like unveiling a work of art. Matt's lithe figure was unveiled - muscle by muscle, sinew by sinew - until, finally, he stood before me in white briefs.
He looked perfect; he was beautiful. From his tousled blond hair to his perfect feet, he was like something out of Greek mythology. His dick stood upright in his briefs, the head straining against the waistband.
We embraced again, our hard-ons pressed against each other. I could feel my cock weeping in its prison of soft cotton; it felt as though pre-cum was pouring out of me. We separated momentarily in order to shuck off our briefs, and then I led Matt to the bed.
I swept away the chocolates that had been placed on our pillows. The counterpane had been turned down. This too I grabbed and swept away, and then we settled down for some serious lovemaking.
'What would you like to do?' I asked Matt between kisses.
'I want you to fuck me, Andrew. Fuck me as slowly as you can and for as long as you can last. And I want you to fuck me on my back so I can watch your face throughout.'
'I can't think of anything I'd like more' I replied.
It suddenly occurred to me that I'd meant to purchase some lube that day. With all the excitement of Matt's make-over, I'd forgotten.
I raised myself off the bed, intending to grab some hair conditioner from the bathroom, but Matt grabbed my hand and pulled me back towards him.
'No' he said. 'I don't want to miss a single sensation. I want to feel the pain when you ease your way inside. And I want you to feel my insides without any prepping. No special lotions. Just flesh against flesh.'
With that, we manoeuvred into the required position. I positioned my dick at Matt's tiny puckered ass-hole. I allowed the oozing tip to rest there for a moment, and then I began the slow descent into warmth and bliss.
Matt's eyes never left my face. Similarly, my own gaze was on him, noting every expression as it passed across his features.
At first, I met an incredible tightness; but my glans, slick with natural lubricant, gradually pushed its way through until I was about an inch inside him. And there I rested for a while.
I saw Matt wince as I entered him. Similarly, he could see the determination on my own face. I may even have winced a little myself; there was immense pressure on my cock and my foreskin seemed forced back to snapping point.
I commenced a very slow, darting rhythm; taking my dick almost all the way out and then moving forward again. Each forward move went infinitesimally further that the one before.
When I was about three inches inside Matt, I leaned forward in an attempt to kiss him. But the best we could achieve was a brief touch of flickering tongues. Not until I was further inside him would I be able to kiss him fully.
As I continued my slow journey, I sensed Matt mentally commanding his ass to relax and accept my invading cock. His face was a study in concentration and his eyes betrayed the discomfort he was experiencing. He nonetheless smiled at me and urged me to keep going.
It was difficult to maintain such a slow rate of entry. Once half-way inside him, my dick was desperate to attain full penetration; eager to commence its ritual bucking movements.
Suddenly, I felt less resistance. Matt assured me it was time to enter him fully and so I increased the rate of descent until my cock was buried to the hilt. I came to a halt, my balls resting against smooth flesh, and I leaned forward in order to kiss him deeply.
'So tight, so beautiful' I murmured.
'So filled with dick' he replied.
I wanted to go at him like a raging bull. I knew that just a few minutes of savage thrusting would be sufficient for me to blow my wad. But I also knew that this wasn't what he wanted.
He'd requested long and slow and - no matter how great the surge inside me - I was determined to fulfil that request.
And so it went. Long, smooth strokes inwards and outwards. Like a metronome, with no alteration of speed or angle. Slowly back and forth. No urgency. No heedless rush to find release.
The movement and the contented look on Matt's face were almost hypnotic.
Though I desperately wanted to shoot my load deep within him, I did all I could to postpone the inevitable.
Eventually, when I was close to the brink, I stopped moving altogether. The walls of Matt's ass-chute clasped firmly around my cock; his sphincter clamped at the base of my shaft; and my glans lay deep inside him, exquisitely sensitive and almost volcanic.
'Don't move a muscle' I implored him. 'Just lie still until the moment passes.'
I lost count of how many times we paused like that; how many times we lay still while I strived to retain mastery of my dick and my balls and my most basic instincts. Each time was a mixture of pleasure and torment - pleasure that this fuck would continue; torment that it was so perilously close to ending.
I surrendered myself totally to the delights of edging; the joy of an approaching sexual avalanche; the gathering storm in my loins.
At last, when I felt I could no longer withstand that gathering storm, Matt asked me to pause with my cock buried deep with him. With my every quivering inch totally under his control, Matt clamped tightly and I felt his ass-hole scissoring at the base of my shaft.
Momentarily averting my gaze into his eyes, I watched as his rock-hard dick lurched and spewed forth a shower of sparkling cream juices.
Mesmerised, I watched each spurt arc into the air and fall to rest on his chest and shoulders.
It was the noise that caused me to resume surveillance of Matt's face. His face was flushed and beaded with sweat; and his mouth was wide open in a whispered scream of primal ecstasy.
I remained still until his cock ceased its eruption; until he was no longer vocalising his pleasure. Then, thinking he could no longer tolerate its presence inside him, I moved to withdraw my dick. I was planning to jerk off all over him.
'No!' Matt commanded. 'Stay there. Please. Deep. Deep. Just stay there and don't move.'
I did as he ordered. Again he clamped down hard on me. Again my shaft enjoyed the rippling motions of its surrounding walls. Again, my cock and my balls cried out for release.
One last squeeze and - perfectly still and deep inside Matt's warm and silky arse - my dick was finally forced to blow.
It seemed to me like galvanism - a series of white-hot currents that originated in my balls and emerged through the lightning rod of my cock.
Spasm after spasm, shock after shock, I filled him with a near-endless surge of cum. He kept squeezing throughout. He only relaxed when I begged him to. He only relaxed when I was utterly spent; when he'd milked every drop. And then I fell on top of him.
My arms ached. My balls ached. My heart pounded. And my breathing had become a series of gasps. My race had been run. I was spent in every sense of the word.
Lifting my head, I could see Matt's contented smile. He had the look of someone who'd scaled Everest.
When I was sufficiently recovered to do so, I gave Matt a kiss that was part gratitude and part celebration. And then we both went to speak at the same time. I let him go first.
'Thank you' he said. 'That was like finding Heaven.'
'You're the one who deserves thanks' I replied. 'In any case, I don't think they allow fucking in Heaven.'
'Well, they should' Matt retorted. 'Let's get up a petition.'
We laughed at this. And then - inexplicably - we found we couldn't stop laughing.
We drew apart and appreciated what a sticky mess we were in. More laughter, hugging and kissing.
We were not hysterical; we were euphoric. It had been a wonderful experience for both of us.
I had a sudden idea.
'Let's go for a swim' I said. 'The pool and the gym are open 24/7.'
'I'd love to, but I don't have any swim trunks' said Matt.
'Doesn't matter. Who's going to be there at this hour? Just wear your tightie whities. I'll wear my briefs too.'
So, having wrapped ourselves in the towelling bathrobes provided by the hotel, we took the elevator to the fitness centre. We saw no one on the way but I guess some security guard was watching us on a monitor.
Once there, we showered in the men's change room; washing away dried sweat and trails of cum. And then we put on our briefs again and hit the pool.
We were like two young kids. We splashed about; we raced each other; we swam between each other's legs. It was refreshing and also slightly erotic. Uncertain about security camera coverage, I was careful to do nothing visibly inappropriate, but I did squeeze Matt's balls underwater and groped his flaccid but still fat cock. He did similar things to me. As I said, we were like two little kids at play.
Afterwards, back in our suite, we agreed that neither of us felt the least bit tired.
I ordered some coffee from room service and, once it had been delivered, we settled into the comfortable armchairs of our sitting room and chatted companionably. Eventually, we moved from general chatter to the particular.
'So you're not really gay?' Matt asked. He had a sceptical look on his face that made me chuckle.
'Don't know. Don't care.' I replied. 'You're only the second guy I've ever had sex with but I have to admit I enjoyed it. Every single second of it. Every single thing about you too.'
'I used to think I wasn't gay' said Matt. 'I used to think I only do this stuff because Pa forced me into it in the first place. I used to think I might've been straight if I'd been allowed to develop normally and at my own pace.'
'Now' he responded. 'Nowadays I know I do this because I enjoy it. It's the way I'm wired. Of course I hate everything I do with Pa, Nate and Abel. And I hate them too. But, when I'm able to make my own choices - like I can when I take off for a weekend - I know I want to have sex with nice, kind and good-looking young men. Guys like you.'
I waved away the compliment.
'I'm not sure that I'm all that nice or kind, Matt. In a way, I feel as though I've kidnapped and taken advantage of you.'
'That's crap, Andrew. Everything we've done together, every place we've been, they're ... they've been the happiest times of my life. And it's only Pa and the boys who can force me to do whatever they want. They have a strange hold on me.
Here, with you - or if I'm on the road - I do nothing I don't want to do. If some fat ugly guy offers me a ride, then I accept. But if he puts the hard word on me, I ask him to set me down - no matter if it's in the middle of nowhere - and I walk until another ride comes along.'
'I'm far too big a coward to ever hitchhike' I said. 'What do you do if a guy turns mean on you?'
'Well, no one ever has so far.'
'Might be more a matter of luck than good planning' I suggested. 'Anyway, what made you agree to ride with me?'
'Are you kidding?' Matt exclaimed. 'You're the nicest and best-looking guy to ever offer me a ride.'
'Whoa there. Easy. I'll be getting a swelled head.' I said. 'Setting aside my movie star looks, did you immediately assume I was gay?'
'Nope. I wasn't sure. You don't act or speak as though you're gay. And you didn't use any of the usual lines that guys use. When you dropped me off the first time, I was convinced you were straight.
When you turned around and picked me up again, then ... well, then I thought maybe you might be interested after all.'
'Please don't be offended' I told him, 'but I'm not sure that I was interested in the way you think. I just felt bad about leaving you in the middle of nowhere.
I guess I was feeling a bit sad and lonely too. I needed company but I'd have done the same thing if you'd been a young girl or a little old lady.'
'Would you have expected sex from her?'
'Not from a little old lady. No way' I chuckled.
'I know that' Matt said. 'But, seriously, what about a young girl? Would you have hoped she'd offer herself to you?'
'Absolutely not' I exclaimed. 'I'm no saint, Matt, but I am definitely not a predator. I would have made polite conversation with a girl - just as I did with you. And I would have driven out of my way in order to get her somewhere safe. I wasn't headed anywhere in particular.'
'So, if I hadn't touched your leg ...?'
'Then nothing would have happened' I told him. 'I'd have dropped you off wherever you wanted and driven on with nothing stronger than memories of a pleasant young man who'd eased my solitude for an hour or so.'
Matt gave a theatrical sigh.
'So it wasn't love at first sight?'
I laughed at this. After a brief pause, Matt laughed too.
And it was then that it hit me. At that moment I recognised something that had been slowly seeping into my consciousness over the previous day or so.
'Sorry, Matt' I confessed. 'It wasn't love at first sight - I could hardly see you in the dark anyway - and I have to say I'm not really sure what love is. But I do know one thing for sure. That first morning - when I woke up and gazed at you sleeping beside me - I was blown away by your beauty and your vulnerability.
I had these incredibly mixed emotions. I wanted to enjoy your body - oh boy, did I want to enjoy your body again - but I also felt a need to simply hold you tight and protect you from the big bad world.'
'Wow' said Matt. I was learning that this was his standard response when impressed or surprised.
'You really mean that?' he asked.
'Yep. I really mean it. It's something that hit me immediately and totally. I think it's still developing, even while we sit here chatting. I think it grows with every moment in your company.'
'I don't know what to say' whispered Matt.
'You don't have to say anything. Just sit there and let me look at you, talk with you, maybe drag you off to bed now and then. I just feel a deep need to be with you and to do all I can to make your life happy.
If you want to head home, then I'll drive you there and wish you well.
And, Matt, if I never see you again, I'll remember you and this weekend to the end of my days.'
Matt's head was bowed. He made no response, but I ploughed on anyway.
'You are a beautiful, beautiful young man, Matt. When we set out tonight, I looked at you in your suit - with your blond hair swept back from your face and your beautiful eyes - and you took my breath away.
I hope you now realise how incredibly attractive you are. It seems to me that you're wasting your life away in Pig Hollow with Pa and the boys.'
Matt raised his head. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. I went to him, kneeling at his feet and grasping his hand.
'I hope I haven't upset you' I said.
'I'm not upset' he replied, his voice choked with emotion. 'I'm crying because I'm so happy. This has been the most wonderful experience in my entire life. You are so kind and so caring and so gentle.'
'You left out handsome' I joked.
He smiled through his tears.
'I was just about to mention that' he said.
'Of course' he nodded. 'That too.'
Another nod and even some laughter.
'Tell you what' I said, "We're supposed to check out of here by 10am. How about I call reception and see if we can stay another night?'
'I'd like that' he replied.
'And I'll hang a "do not disturb" sign on the door so we can sleep all day. OK?'
'As long as we can do other things besides sleep' said Matt.
'What sort of other things?'
Matt rose to his feet. So did I.
'Make the call and then I'll show you' he said. 'I'll be waiting in the bedroom.'