Matt and I spent most of Sunday morning in bed. We even slept a little bit.
When we weren't asleep, we continued to feast on each other's body. Even though I have always strived to maintain peak physical fitness, I confess I felt quite ragged by Sunday lunch time. Ragged - but incredibly happy and satisfied too.
With each coupling, we tried a new position. Matt's ass was a miracle on every occasion. Warm, welcoming and yet amazingly tight.
However conventional it might sound, I have to say I enjoyed it best when we fucked with his legs on my shoulders. In that position I could watch his face as every sensation flitted across his features. And, in that position, I could achieve maximum thrust. Whether slowly or vigorously, Matt enjoyed the deepest penetration I could manage.
At one stage, I wondered out loud whether he wished for something bigger but he assured me that my endowment was already almost too much of a good thing.
He explained that there's a point where delicious discomfort becomes pleasurable; a point where his ass grew fully accustomed to my cock and began to welcome each thrust. And, apparently, there's a point where discomfort turns to pain; a stage where his body might try to draw backwards from its invader.
Having never been fucked, I took his word for all this. And I was all the more grateful that he never once drew back. If the excitement, lust or love is there, then I guess almost anything is possible.
I thought back to how things were with my long-term partner, Martin. Over the years, he had occasionally asked me to stop because it was hurting. It was similar with my ex-fiancée, Gemma. She often complained about pain when my dick bumped against her cervix. This meant taking it easy, no matter how excited I was.
More than ever I appreciated being able to enter Matt to the hilt.
Anyway, after a room-service lunch on Sunday, Matt and I found the energy to move from the bed to armchairs. It was time to talk.
'We check out at 10am tomorrow morning' I said. 'What would you like to do after that?'
'Well, what I'd really like to do is to never, ever go back home again' Matt replied, 'but I don't see any other option really. I don't want a lifetime of hustling to afford food or a bed for the night.'
'Matt - if and when you ever go back to Pig Hollow, it will only be for a few minutes; just as long as it takes for you to grab any stuff you want to keep; and just as long as it takes for you to say goodbye to Pa and your lousy brothers.'
'I like the new name' Matt said. 'Pig Hollow suits it better, but the facts remain the same. Plainsville is my home town and it's the only home I have; the only security. However much Pa and the boys despise me, they'd be forced to agree that they need me to keep house and put cooked food on the table. They'd also miss my ass.'
'Amen to that. I've only known you for three days but I'd miss your ass too!'
'That's nice, but being a perfect ass-hole doesn't help me escape from Plainsville.'
'I've been thinking about this a lot' I said. 'How about coming back with me?'
'You mean to live with you, Martin and that ex-priest guy? Sounds like a recipe for disaster - for everyone involved.'
'No. That's not what I have in mind at all. I'm not so sure I want to share a house with Martin again, whether Joseph is still there or not.
No. What I was wondering was if you'd like to stay at my folk's house for a while - just till you get settled. You could use my old rooms over the garage and come and go as you please.'
'What would you tell them?' Matt asked.
'The truth. Well ... most of the truth. That you're a friend I met while out of town; that your family situation is diabolical; that you want to make a fresh start. That sort of thing.'
'And what would they think?'
'They might think all sorts of things.' I said. 'But I know what they'll say. It'll be yes. Mom and Dad are probably the most hospitable people on earth. And I know my mother would fall in love with you at first sight. She often talks about how much she misses having me to fuss over.'
'It sounds wonderful' Matt replied. 'But then I'll need to find work somehow. I can't live there free of charge.'
'Well, it's space that doesn't get used these days, so I wouldn't worry about rent. Just utilities each month. There's a small refrigerator, a toaster-oven and a microwave. And there's a tiny bathroom as well.'
Matt's face was a study in wistfulness. I could tell he was extremely interested, so I continued my salesman's pitch.
'As for work - well, you're a fit, good-looking guy. How would you feel about working at one of my gyms? The pay's pretty average; you won't get rich but you won't have to struggle either.
So ... what do you say?'
'I say YES!' said Matt. 'And I say thank you, too.'
And then we celebrated. Firstly with a huge hug and some kissing, and then with a trip to a nearby Italian restaurant. It wasn't as ritzy as the previous night's eatery, but the food was delicious and served in large portions.
Matt had eaten spaghetti before but he'd never even heard of ravioli, lasagne or cannelloni. He gave Italian cuisine a thumbs up!
As we ate, we chatted some more.
'Are you going to work things out with Martin?'
'It's already worked out' I replied. 'I no longer want to be with him. Once trust is lost, it can never really be restored. I'm not willing to spend the rest of my life with a guy who cheats on me; not after he promised to be true.'
'You still angry?' Matt asked.
'Nope. Not sure that I ever was all that angry. I was mainly disappointed and shocked. And now I've been unfaithful too - not that I feel the least guilty about it - so I guess Martin and I are even.'
'Do you think he'll settle down with Joe?'
'Nope. I don't much care either way, but I think they'll soon tire of each other. Joe is incredibly earnest about Catholicism and Martin tends to view religion as a bit of a joke. If they stay together, Martin will have to help Joe deal with guilt every day of his life.'
And that's where we left it. After all, it was time to enjoy our last night in the honeymoon suite.
Next morning, we hit the road. We never did get around to buying any suitcases, so load after load of bags and boxes were stacked into the trunk and rear seat of my vehicle, almost obscuring my view through the rear-vision mirror.
Once we were in open country, with only the occasional truck or van passing by, Matt began to play with my dick; fondling it through my trousers and also squeezing my balls. This rapidly became too much to bear.
My cock felt trapped as it expanded upwards towards my belt. I also grew concerned that my new beige chinos would be stained by a massive wet spot. I could feel the stickiness spreading, so I asked Matt to set me free.
He unbuckled my belt. I lifted myself up slightly so he could unzip my fly and slide my trousers and briefs down a little. This done, Matt resumed his attentions; rhythmically stroking my dick and occasionally cupping my balls.
Eventually, he undid his seat belt and leaned himself low down and sideways in order to take me in his mouth.
'There's a car about to overtake us' I warned.
He lifted his head momentarily to assure me we couldn't be seen by a passing car.
After a few more minutes of glorious sensations, I warned Matt again. This time a truck was about to come right alongside.
'So what? If they bother to look - and they probably won't - then so what?'
And he continued to work on my cock.
I'd never before driven while receiving a blow-job. At first it was disconcerting. It wasn't only passing traffic that bothered me. I was also having trouble concentrating on my driving. But this eased after a while.
However novel the experience, I managed to place my own mind on auto-pilot while my dick's mind surrendered to suction and a swirling tongue.
Matt's head moved up and down very slowly and he did not lift it very high - only an inch or so. It was all about the warmth of his mouth, the insistent use of his tongue and the contraction of his throat muscles whenever he took me to the hilt.
'I'm getting very close' I warned.
But Matt's only response was a continued assault on my straining cock. He had one hand under my balls, squeezing them gently. And, when he felt my dick thicken at the base, when he felt my balls tighten up, he pressed his face downwards and took me even further into his throat.
The surge came. I struggled to drive smoothly. I was tempted to hit the brakes and stop. I wanted to use my feet to counter the upward movement of my hips.
Somehow - as my cock exploded into Matt's mouth - we managed to stay on the road. It was a huge rush. The unexpectedness and the unusual situation seemed to give further impetus to the outpouring of cum.
It seemed to me that Matt must choke. It seemed to me that he might even drown. But he didn't. Once or twice, he raised his head marginally - just enough to enable him to swallow - but his head stayed in my lap for the longest time.
My dick stayed in his mouth until every last drop of jizz had been drained. My dick stayed in his mouth so long that the glans was no longer hypersensitive; I began to grow hard again.
Seeing a dirt track to our right, I turned and drove till we were surrounded by trees and shrubs and well out of sight of any passing traffic.
I killed the engine and then lifted up Matt's head.
'Enough' I said. 'I want to do stuff to you too.'
We kissed; and I tasted myself on his tongue. I opened my door and got out. Matt did the same. Taking his hand, I led him deeper into a plantation of pines.
I went to my knees and freed his stiff fat cock. It practically dripped pre-cum. I harvested this with my tongue before wrapping my mouth around his shaft. And then I proceeded to give him the best head-job I could.
My jaws ached at the thickness but I happily ignored this. I wanted him to cum in my mouth. I wanted his jizz to blast down my throat. I wanted to capture his juices and savour them.
It didn't take long. When he reached the point of no return, Matt began to fuck my mouth wildly. On his final thrust, he grabbed my head and pushed it hard against his groin. As he gasped, I felt the first sharp spurt against my palate. Then another. And another.
It was warm. It was deliciously tasty. It was salty and it was sweet too. It had the consistency of cream but it was far more viscous.
I loved the feel of it in my mouth and on my tongue. I loved the gelatinous coating on my throat. I was even sad that it was over. I wanted him to pump cum in an endless flow.
An hour or so later, we were on the outskirts of my home town. On a whim, I decided to visit Martin's house first, reasoning that it would save having to backtrack from my parents' place in the city.
I pulled into the drive and told Matt to stay put.
'This won't take long' I assured him.
I knocked on the front door. Having decided I could no longer live there, it didn't seem right to just walk right in. Besides, the last time I'd walked in unexpectedly, I'd found Martin and Joe in bed together.
The door opened and Martin stood before me. He looked dreadful. Unshaven. Unkempt. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.
If he'd said something remotely welcoming, if he'd looked relieved or pleased to see me, then I guess things might have gone differently. I was prepared to be civil and I'd hoped there would be a minimum of drama. But that's not how it went.
'Where the hell have you been?' he shouted at me. 'How dare you just take off and leave me worried sick.'
'Where have I been?' I countered. 'Well, you can be sure of one thing. I haven't been in bed with your new playmate, Joe. And, as for being worried sick - what were you worried about? That I'd thrown myself under a train? Or maybe you were just worried that I'd caught you screwing someone else.'
It went steadily downhill from there. Martin asked me to come in, saying he didn't want to argue on the front veranda. I refused, saying I'd be back in a day or so to collect my stuff and that - after that - I never intended to cross his threshold again.
Martin's demeanour became a strange mixture of anger and sorrow. He told me that Joe was gone. He said it had been a momentary lapse and that Joe had been the seducer. He told me that he'd been alone for two days and feeling incredibly sad and deserted.
Not once did he apologise to me. All his sorrow was for himself alone. And all his anger was directed at me and poor Joe because we'd deserted him.
'I've moved on, Martin. Maybe you need to do the same. Maybe you need to see a doctor or a counsellor. Get some help so you can move on too.'
'I don't need help' he replied. 'I just want someone to be with me; I can't handle being so alone.'
'Well, I'll be back in a day or so' was my parting shot. 'I'll keep you company for as long as it takes to pile my stuff into a van. But after that you're on your own.'
Back on the road, Matt asked how things had gone.
'Not well' I said. 'But it's done. He knows I don't want to be with him anymore.'
'Did you tell him about me?'
'Nope. Why should I? What happened after I left is none of his business. What caused me to leave is the real issue, and he blames that on Joe. Claims he was seduced.'
'Well, that might be true' offered Matt.
'It's a crock of shit' I told him. 'Joe's a confused, wimpy nervous wreck. He's as likely to make the first move on Martin as I am to start screwing squirrels.'
At my folk's house, only Mom was home. I could tell she was a little concerned but she hid it well. And she greeted Matt warmly, ushering us into the living room to wait while she fixed some coffee. I motioned for Matt to stay where he was and I followed Mom into the kitchen.
'Is everything alright, dear?' she asked. 'Your father and I have been a bit worried, especially with Martin telephoning every hour or so and sounding so strange.'
I gave her a greatly shortened version of my weekend, explaining that I'd had a quarrel with Martin and that I no longer wanted to share a house with him.
'I see' she said. 'Well, both Dad and I liked Martin well enough. But, you know dear, I told your father we had to like him for your sake. I've no desire to be the mother-in-law from hell.'
And then she looked at me and smiled at my astonishment. In one simple sentence, she'd acknowledged my sexuality and signalled her unconditional support.
There was a lot I wanted to ask and much I wanted to say, but the coffee was ready and I was handed a plate of cookies to take through to the living room.
Matt was looking nervous but his nerves disappeared in the face of my mother's relentless niceness. She's a wonderful human being.
I'm biased, I know, but Mom is the next best thing to a saint; better than that really, because saints are not famous for their sense of humour. I suspect the average saint isn't all that broad-minded either.
There was no need to ask about Matt using my old quarters over the garage. Less than halfway through explaining his circumstances, my mother interrupted me.
'You must come and stay with us, dear' she told Matt. 'If you're Andrew's friend, then you're one of the family.'
And so it was settled. Matt was on the verge of tears and - as had been the case throughout my life -I was filled with admiration and love for my Mom. I gave her a big hug and a kiss, and she insisted on hugging Matt too.
He'd never experienced such a maternal hug in his life before. I was pleased for him. I almost teared up myself.
I explained to Mom that I was moving out of Martin's house - forever. She suggested I use the spare bedroom at home, saying that it would be a joy to have me back for a while and that she'd be in Heaven having two boys to look after.
'I'd suggest you and Matt share' she went on, 'but I don't think your father would approve.
Dad loves you, Andrew. And he's very proud of you too. He knows you're never going to present us with grandchildren. He knows why and he accepts that. But I don't think we should test his broadmindedness too far. Not just now. Let him get to know Matthew first.'
It took us a while to get everything out of my car. And then it took Matt and me even longer to remove lots of stuff from my old rooms over the garage. It had become a bit of a junk room over the past three or four years.
We hauled the stuff up into the attic while my mother went into a housewifely whirl of activity to ensure Matt's new home was spotlessly clean and tidy.
When we were done, I asked Mom if she'd like to go out for a meal. She declined, saying she still needed to prepare the spare bedroom for me. So Matt and I headed into town for a late lunch.
'She thinks we're together' said Matt.
'Are we?' he asked.
'I don't know, Matt. That's something we need to sort out for ourselves. Mom's rarely wrong about people, but the real question is whether we're together just for now or together for the longer term.'
We discussed this over lunch. I didn't pussyfoot around. I told Matt that it worried me that he had a fairly promiscuous past; not with his father and brothers - that didn't concern me at all.
No, I was more concerned about the guys who'd fucked him at truck-stops; the guys to whom he'd offered his body in return for a ride.
Moreover, he'd told me how much he loved being fucked. I wondered if he would be content with my dick alone. I wondered if variety was vital to him.
'I have no problems with a guy getting whatever he can whenever he can' I told him. 'But it's not my own personal preference. I'm not into guys - or girls - plural. I'm a one-person guy. In any case, I think casual sex is very risky. I couldn't spend my life wondering whether I was going to get the clap from a straying partner.'
'Andrew' Matt declared solemnly. 'I've fallen in love with you. You're the best thing that's happened in my entire life. If you and I were together, I promise I would never cheat on you.'
'I used to feel that way about Martin' I told him. 'I thought he felt the same. But I was wrong.'
'Well, I'm not Martin' said Matt. 'I'm me. I know I've been around the block more times than most, but never because I craved a longer dick or a thicker dick or a better-looking guy.
Most of my past has been about survival. And most of my hook-ups were either forced upon me or else payment in order to get a ride out of Plainsville - to escape for a while.'
'I never expected to escape forever' he continued. 'I only wanted to leave Pa, Abel and Nate for a while. To feel free. It's a bit like a Disney movie, Andrew. I've been a male Cinderella with only hopes and dreams. With you, I feel transformed and alive at last.'
'Well, I don't really see myself as the handsome prince' I said.
'Yes you are. And it's not just on the surface. You are a genuinely kind and caring man.'
'Who happens to be ten years older than you' I commented. 'That's the same age difference as there is between Martin and me. You're still growing as a person, Matt. And you'll continue to grow with each passing year.
One day you'd wake up and see an old man in bed beside you and you'd feel trapped.'
And that's about where we left it. I'd promised Mom we'd be home for dinner and I suddenly saw no point in delaying what had to be done at Martin's house. I told Matt I'd drop him home on the way but he insisted that he wanted to come with me. I had misgivings, but I agreed.
When Martin answered the door, it was obvious that he'd been drinking.
This was ominous. On the rare occasions that I've been intoxicated, I've been told afterwards that I'm a very happy drunk - funny, even silly; but not a problem.
Martin, on the other hand, is either a very sad and tearful drunk or - especially in times of stress - a very angry and explosive drunk.
We were waved inside. In the entry hall, Martin subjected Matt to a bleary and malevolent scrutiny.
'Ahh' he said. 'So this is your toy-boy on the side, is it? I knew you'd been fooling around but I didn't think you'd been dating children.'
'He's not a child, Martin. He's not much younger than I was when you met me. And he and I first met three days ago. No way did I ever fool around when I was with you. And you know that. Deep down, in your heart of hearts, you bloody well know that.'
Martin turned and wobbled his way into the lounge room. Matt and I followed.
'Anyway' I said. 'I'm not here to argue, Martin. I'm here to pick up my stuff and leave.'
'And drive off into the sunset with your little bimbo boyfriend.'
'Martin, a few years back you called my fiancée a bimbo. Now you're calling Matt a bimbo. You obviously have a low opinion of my taste. And maybe you're right. After all, I chose to spend four years with you. There's no accounting for taste, I guess.'
'Matt the prat' giggled Martin. 'Matt the prat and randy Andy.'
His giggling suddenly became a sob and he collapsed into an armchair.
'It's true then' I said. 'Things don't end with a bang; they end with a whimper. You're drunk, Martin, so there's no point in talking right now. Give me a call sometime - sometime when you're sober - and maybe we can talk sensibly. I'll be at Mom and Dad's place.'
'And your child bride; will he be there too? Mummy and Daddy won't be too pleased to have you fucking little boys under their roof.
Or does he fuck you? Have you finally surrendered your precious, pathetic virginity to a child?'
For once in my life, I completely lost my temper. I dragged Martin to his feet and punched him in the face.
'Who are you to call Matt a child?' I said, glaring down at the drunken mess on the floor. 'He's as much a man as you are. Maybe more. At least he's able to stand up straight and talk sense.'
Martin's nose was bleeding profusely. I was tempted to come to his aid; maybe grab a cloth, help him to his feet. But his next few words changed my mind.
'Has he got a foreskin?' he asked. 'Does he have a big dick? Does he enjoy the pain of your huge cock up his arse? Is he into threesomes?'
We left him to bleed. We left him to cackle insanely on the floor. It took longer than I'd expected to move all my stuff into the car. I purposely left many things behind - stuff Martin had given me over the years.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with revulsion. I wanted nothing to remind me of the man writhing in anger and self-pity on the lounge-room floor.
When the car was finally loaded, I attempted to hand Martin my house keys, saying I would no longer need them. He grabbed my hand.
'You don't understand' he wept. 'I need you to help me. Joe complained about me to my boss and the cops. They're saying I acted inappropriately. They're calling it a sexual assault. I might have to go to court.'
'You told me he seduced you' I replied. 'Why would he report you if he caused it to happen?'
'That's why I need your help. I need you to tell people that you saw Joe flirting with me and leading me on.'
'I'll do no such thing' I said. 'I'm not perjuring myself just because you can't keep it in your pants.'
And then we left, slamming the door behind us.
Dinner was a pleasant family meal. My father gave me a huge hug when I got home; and he was extremely cordial towards Matt too. I could tell that Mom had given him a good talking-to. She may have been a home-maker all her life, but she also knows how to make Dad do her bidding.
We sat around the dining table as if it had always been that way. Matt was shy but did his best to participate in the conversation - and he laughed at all my father's jokes.
After dinner - and much to my dismay - the old family photograph albums came out. I noticed that Matt wasn't the least bored; indeed, he seemed to enjoy looking at family snaps.
When Mom displayed the traditional baby photos of me naked on a rug or in the bath, I wanted to snatch them away and hide them.
To my dismay, she placed a well-manicured finger on one particularly embarrassing picture, saying that the nurses had commented on Andrew's big "thingy" when I was born.
I fled the room, saying I'd fix us all some more coffee. As I puttered about in the kitchen, my memory flew back to an incident that had occurred when I was about fourteen.
I'd just showered and was about to get dressed when Mom entered my room without knocking. I remembered how she'd looked straight at my junk and told me "You get that from your father".
I was mortified at the time. Nowadays, I guess I have reason to celebrate Dad's genetic gift.
Mom and Dad went to bed around 10pm, saying it was way past their bedtime. Mom gave me a goodnight kiss, just as she had in the past. She also planted a kiss on Matt.
Left alone, my friend and I smiled at each other. Mine was a smile of relief. His was a smile of contentedness.
'They're amazing' he said. 'You are so lucky. I'm jealous.'
'Don't be' I replied. 'If you and I end up together, they'll smother you with love too.'
'That's the clincher' Matt said. 'If you want me, you're stuck with me.'
I accompanied Matt to his new quarters, telling myself I was simply being a considerate host. The reality was that I was hoping for at least a quick smooch before returning to my own room.
Of course, the place sparkled. My mother had placed fresh towels on his bed. There was even a vase of flowers on the bedside table.
We moved into an embrace.
'Are you sure you're allowed to have a hard-on?' Matt whispered.
'I jerked off under this roof for more than ten years' I replied. 'So I think an erection's permissible.'
Matt gradually descended to his knees, unzipping my fly and freeing my dick as he moved.
'Do you think this might be permissible too?' he asked, taking my cock into his mouth.
'Mmm' was my only reply.
It didn't take long. Maybe I found the circumstances doubly arousing.
My mother had implied that we should behave circumspectly, but then again, I could recall Dad once telling me that excessive masturbation was bad for a boy - and that hadn't stopped me from jerking off at least two or three times a day throughout my teens.
Whether in the shower or in the john or in bed at night, I can remember shooting my load as quietly and discreetly as possible because I didn't want my parents to know I was a sex fiend!
Now, years later, I was striving to be quiet and discreet once more. A few slurping noises escaped Matt's lips, but they were almost inaudible. As I drew closer to blowing, I forced myself not to moan or gasp with pleasure.
Soon, with my every sense gathered in my balls and at the head of my dick, I erupted into Matt's mouth and down his throat. He quietly and efficiently swallowed every last drop, and - when I was spent - I returned the favour, swallowing Matt's jizz gladly.
We kissed each other goodnight. It was a very spermatic kiss.
I was only in Matt's room for about ten minutes, but it had been long enough to almost seal the deal in my thinking. It hit me that I could hardly bear to part from him and head off to sleep alone.
Just before leaving, I whispered: 'I think I've become addicted to you, Matt.'
Later, in my own bed, I allowed myself to think of the future. I admitted to myself that it was not just sex that I wanted with Matt. I was beginning to think about sharing a life with him as well.
But I'm a cautious guy. I wasn't about to rush anything.
For now, I'd take it one day at a time. And - just as important - one fuck at a time too.