The Cove

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In the previous chapters…

Gerry's heterosexual inclinations and his inhibitions make it hard for him having sex with Rowan, despite the sheer love he feels for him. However, a part of him longs for men's love, and at the Cove he cautiously explores his sexuality.
Kale goes to Hawaii to pay a visit to his dying father and brings back with him his young cousin Laniakea, who struggles to fully explore his sexual inclinations and find his place within the Cove.
Beau understands that he's not the wonderful and generous man he's always believed, and tries his best to overcome his limits.
The sudden appearance of Gerry's female lover causes a fuss in the Cove. Rowan feels inadequate for Gerry, and looks for reassurance into Barry's arms, but this causes a fight between Gerry and Barry, and Rowan runs away from the Cove. Gerry, terribly worried, finds consolation into Kale's arms. Barry and Gerry find a common ground (rough sex!) to settle their quarrel.
Barry is arrested and put in jail and Kale is extremely worried for him; he tries to find comfort in Gerry’s arms, but he ends up having sex with him and his woman Gladys. In jail, a strong bond is tied between Barry and Wade, a barely legal straight boy. At his trial, Barry makes the hot Judge Ricardo Garcia fall for him.
With Kale's help, Laniakea learns how liberating is voicing (or even screaming) his pleasure and reveals to have been raped by two homophobic guys, back home. Gerry takes another step in his journey, sucking a man's cock for the first time.
Jorell reveals to Kale that his father walked out on him when he was seventeen and never heard from him since. Immediately, the Cove starts searching for Jorell's father, and the traces lead to the infamous San Quentin Prison.

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Synopsys

Beau and Jorell fly to San Quentin, where many secrets are revealed. While waiting in the limo for the two men to come back, LaShawn will deepen his acquaintance with Joshua, the hunky (and straight) jet pilot and limo driver. At the Cove, Wahkan is 'invited' to an event he dearly would like to miss.

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Additional downloads (PDF)

~ Cast of Characters: the “Who’s Who” of the Cove!
~ Floor Plan of the Cove
~ Book 01: Chapters 01-10 (PDF with bookmarks)
~ Book 02: Chapters 11-20 (PDF with bookmarks)

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≈ CHAPTER 20 – LOVE FROM THE PAST ≈

 

~ San Quentin ~

“Are you ready? We have to hurry…” – Beau said entering Jorell’s room, anxious because they had to be in the San Francisco area by lunch time. Jorell finished to button up his shirt and turned around, a bit tense: “Are we still flying with your jet?”

“I told you, there’s nothing to worry about” – Beau replied, and then noticed LaShawn looking at them with irresistible puppy eyes and exclaimed: “Ok, you can come, too, kid! But you can’t come with us to the prison, you will stay with Joshua, the pilot. And before you ask: yes, he’s gorgeous, but no, he’s straight and actually very uptight on this subject, so try to keep an… understated behavior, ok?”

When ready, they took Beau’s car and rushed to the Oxnard airport, where Joshua was waiting for them near a small jet. They climbed the ladder, and in few minutes the small plane took off. Jorell was very tense, and the harder he tried to hide it, the more nervous he became, until he felt LaShawn’s holding his hand: “I’m here, sir. It’s all perfectly fine, relax. I… I won’t let anything bad happen to you, sir…”

LaShawn’s tender serenity and his caring attitude put Jorell’s mind at ease, so he smiled and relaxed on the comfy chair, feeling his heart full of love and pride for his beautiful boy: “I couldn’t live without you, kid… and I’m not talking just about this trip by plane…”

They landed at the San Raphael airport, and Joshua led the way to a limo waiting for them at the V.I.P. exit; approaching the long black car, Jorell murmured: “Beau… is this really necessary? I mean, the jet, the limo…”

“I’m not riding a bus!” – Beau giggled, but then his tone became warm, as he guessed how much all these new and luxury things were making Jorell nervous, being a simple guy who had lived all his life watching from afar richer people – “Come on, buddy, enjoy being pampered, once in a while… You know that if it was for me I’d share with you all of I have, but you would feel insulted. But not today: let me take care of you, at least today.”

Jorell’s mouth distended in an uncertain smile: “You’re such a good friend, Beau…” – he said, with a shy glance, and covertly held Beau’s hand for a moment, as they were in public – “I feel so weird, we’re going to listen to this guy talk about my father, and a part of me is back at Rice-Duncan Mansion, when we still lived together. You and I weren’t precisely… friends, back then, even before Jordan’s tragedy. But it’s been long ago…”

“Yes, it’s been long ago. A life ago.” – Beau replied with a smile, kindly opening the door for Jorell to get into the limo. Joshua quickly drove them to San Quentin; they had to pass many security checks, and finally arrived to the visitor’s room, where Sterling was waiting for them.

“The inmate’s name is Mick Drenton” – the lawyer explained – “I already called for him, he’s on his way. Oh! Here he is!”

The door opened and the guard walked in a handcuffed prisoner. Jorell and Beau expected a tattooed thug with a ferocious expression, and were surprised to see that Mick was a good-looking clean-shaved white guy, about their age, with a slim, fit body and short blond hair. He looked anything but a dangerous criminal. While sitting down and having his hands linked to the table, he looked at Jorell and said: “You must be Lee’s son. The resemblance is incredible…”

Jorell wasn’t sure he wanted to listen anything about his father. He came there just because Beau and the other guys at the Cove did a hell of a job to trace Lee down, and he didn’t want their effort to go wasted; but he was suspicious: “If you really shared your cell with my father, prove it. Did he have any distinctive feature?”

“Well, he was a tall black man, with a muscular frame, though when I met him he was quite in a bad shape. He didn’t have any tattoo or other distinctive marks, except… well…” – Mick’s voice lowered and his face flushed red – “He… he had a big cock… More than big, it must’ve been fourteen inches at least…”

Jorell relaxed and giggled: “A family trait… OK, sorry for not trusting you. I mean, you must be here for a reason, though I can’t guess why, you look a nice guy…”

“I was. Until one night I got drunk and I killed a man in a car accident. Vehicular homicide, 23 years. And I have another confession: I wanted you to come here because I sensed that what I have to tell was important for you, and I wanted to… trade my story for some benefit or something. But now that I see you… I can’t. I made a promise to Lee, though I was quite sure I wouldn’t be able to fulfill it, until Mr. Sterling, here, didn’t come to me.”

 

~ Revelations ~

The inmate, with same difficulty, took a photo from his pocket and placed it in front of Jorell. It was an old photo showing a tall handsome black man and a beautiful teen boy with curly hair and the fire of his youth burning into his eyes.

Jorell’s eyes widened: “This is me and my father! At Rice-Duncan Mansion, the day we arrived there. It was long ago, before my father… left me.”

“He didn’t leave you on purpose” – Mick hastened to say – “As you know, by now, he just couldn’t come back to you. But he told me you were living in a huge mansion, with people taking care of you… surely in a better way than he had ever done before you got there.”

“The mansion was huge, true” – Jorell replied, gloomy, looking sideways at Beau – “but the owner wasn’t… very supportive. And anyway he soon died, and I had to live on the streets since. I didn’t even know if my father was dead or alive! Fuck, he should’ve at least made a phone call!”

“He tried, many times. We don’t have many chances to make phone calls here, but he used up all his calls to try contacting you, but at the mansion no one ever answered…”

“That’s because after the owner’s death the house was closed down” – Jorell said with an unspeakable sadness in his voice – “I waited, year after year, for my father to come back, but he never did. And now he’s dead… But how did it happen? I mean, he wasn’t old and was a hell of a man, never had any illness or something!”

“He told me that in the first prison he was convicted in” – Mick said – “the guards always mocked him for the… impressive size of his manhood, when he showered. I don’t know if it was a sort of envy, or maybe some guards lusted for him, but they tried to fuck him, and he reacted like a lion. He was a fierce straight guy, and he just couldn’t let another man humiliate him that way. Of course the guards made him pay for it, and beat him so bad that he had to stay two weeks in the infirmary. Then, they tried again to take his virginity by force, and once more he defended himself. He… he was almost dead when they finished with him; and since another hospitalization would’ve raise suspects, they just transferred him to another prison, in San Louis Obispo. He told me that at the infirmary, there, had a hard job to get him back on his feet.”

Sterling was fuming, listening to Lee’s misadventures, but kept his cool as best as he could and asked: “Did he tell you what happened there? According to the reports, he visited the infirmary several times.”

“He had problems with the inmates.” – Mick revealed – “There is a very strong hierarchy, there, and if you want to survive you have to bow in front of the bosses. And if you don’t… something bad may happen. He was involved in many brawls, and since the guard didn’t dare to punish the bosses, they took on him. He spent most of his stay moving from cell to cell, and every time the guards put him on purpose with the bosses’ most loyal henchmen. You don’t want to know the things that those beasts did to him…”

Mick’s voice trailed off, and he looked down, to hide his frown. Jorell was moved: “You… you really cared for him, didn’t you?”

“I did.” – he replied – “He was like a father to me. Well… not exactly like a father, because I… we… er… Damn, it’s hard to live here, he needed a woman, and I… helped him ease his tension, if you know what I mean. I was the only one he talked to, and he told me everything about his life, about his late wife and about you, Jorell.”

He took for a moment the old photo lying on the table and looked at it with a great sorrow. “Every time he looked at this photo, he always told me: ‘Jorell is the only good thing I’ve ever done in my life’, and then made me promise I would tell you, one day, as he knew he wouldn’t ever got out of here.”

Jorell had wet eyes and made a great effort not to cry in front of Mick, but his trembling voice betrayed the turmoil in his heart: “The… The only good thing? Really he said that? If only he told me, at least once! Damn, I’ve hated him for years, I hated him for being so strict, for walking out on me, and now… now he’s dead and I can’t tell him anymore that I loved him! I can’t tell him how badly I miss him!  How… how did he die?”

“He had an uncured pneumonia, he got it due to the harsh condition he had to live since he was imprisoned. When they finally realized he was seriously ill, it was too late. They were about to move him to Folsom prison, but he died the night before his transfer. This photo is the only thing he left me, but if you want it, Jorell, I will…”

“No, Mick, you can keep it” – Jorell replied with a sad smile – “If it can give you any help in holding on here, I want you to keep it.”

 

~ Scandal in the limo ~

While the men talked, LaShawn and Joshua were waiting in the limo, in silence. After leaving Beau and Jorell at the prison gate, Joshua drove to a secluded spot overlooking the San Raphael bridge running all the way across the San Francisco bay, and cut the engine.

LaShawn looked more attentively at Joshua, and thought that Beau was right, when he said the pilot was gorgeous. He was a well-built tall man in his mid-forties, with buzz-cut dark blond hair and square stubbled jaws; his face was covered by a light cobweb of wrinkles, as if he’d spent his life in the wildlife or in the country. He always had a concentrated, attentive expression, as he was clearly used to keep everything under a constant strict control.

LaShawn’s fertile imagination visualized him as a soldier of the Foreign Legion, struggling in the Sahara Desert, and he felt a pleasurable twitch in his pants. Joshua’s eyes were restless, as if he felt somewhat uneasy, and occasionally glanced at LaShawn, sitting next to him wearing the tight burgundy suit he’d worn the night before, at dinner.

“Nice… suit” – Joshua then said, glancing again at LaShawn, and his eyes briefly riveted on the obvious bulge the black boy was sporting, going commando under the tight pants. LaShawn remembered Beau’s words, to keep an ‘understated behavior’ because Joshua was straight and ‘very uptight’ about homosexuality, but he didn’t give up on giving a bit of show-off, so he tilted his hips a little and manspread, making the bulge in his pants even more obvious.

“I know, this suit is a bit over the top” – LaShawn replied with half a smile – “but you know, I’m gay, and I feel comfortable dressing like this. I actually have some skimpy clothes that barely cover my body, you know…”

Joshua averted his gaze and stared blankly at the steering wheel, murmuring something over and over, clearly nervous. At first, LaShawn couldn’t understand Joshua’s words, but then his smile faded when he clearly heard him whispering: “Homosexuality is an abomination… Homosexuality is an abomination…”

“What are you, an Amish or something?” – LaShawn said, with a more bitter tone than he intended; he didn’t mean to be rude, but Joshua’s words had hit him harshly.

Joshua leaped on his seat, realizing he’d been overheard: “Amish? No… Not precisely… I’m not an Amish, but I’m from the Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, there’s a huge Amish community there, and my parents were very religious; they ran a grocery store, visited by most of the Amish living nearby. I’ve basically been raised as an Amish…”

“You aren’t married…” – LaShawn stated, looking at the man’s bare ring finger. The man fiddled on his seat, uneasy: “No, I’m not married. I’ve… I’ve dated some girls.”

“Well, ‘some girls’ seem a bit too few for a hunk of a man like you…” – LaShawn said in a seductive tone; Joshua gasped and blushed, and LaShawn found irresistible the sight of his withered masculine face blushing like a boy.

“Do… do you find me attractive?” – Joshua whispered, almost breathless, and LaShawn felt a burst of affection for that solid, assertive man, always in control, suddenly acting shyly that way.

“The truth? The naked truth?” – LaShawn said, seriously, and the man nodded: “The… naked truth” – he replied, hesitantly, as if that word, ‘naked’, was making him feel uncomfortable.

“The truth is that I find you so sexy and alluring that I have to put an effort in not sliding my hand into your open shirt…”

Silence.

“But I’m no good at keeping myself in check, so I’m about to actually do that… unless you tell me not to.”

Silence.

Slowly, with utmost respect, LaShawn leaned to Joshua and let his fingers sneak under the man’s white shirt, gently brushing his chest covered with thin blond hair. Joshua’s breath became heavier, but he didn’t say anything. LaShawn moved his palm a bit further, until his fingertips brushed against the man’s nipple.

Joshua uttered a chocked gasp and there was a visible twitch in his pants. LaShawn’s voice was friendly, sympathetic: “Man, you are loaded like a gun… Don’t you... pleasure yourself, every now and then? Or is masturbation an abomination, too?”

“Pretty much…” – Joshua whined, forcefully keeping his hands at the sides of the driver’s seat, while LaShawn kept titillating his sensitive nipple – “Don’t… don’t judge me too harshly, I… nnngghh… I’m a bit uptight when it comes to… sex”.

 

~ Joshua gives in ~

Joshua said the last word, ‘sex’, under his breath, and LaShawn felt for him, as it was obvious the struggle the man was living, torn between his body screaming for pleasure and his mind screaming in horror: “Just tell me this:” – the black boy said – “do you find what I’m doing pleasurable?”

“It’s… wonderful…” – he replied, ashamed, keeping his eyes closed.

“Then it can’t be such an abomination. And your manhood shouldn’t be neglected this way…” – LaShawn whispered, moving his hand down to the man’s crotch – “It’s just taking care of yourself, there is nothing bad in giving pleasure to yourself…”

When LaShawn’s hand wrapped around Joshua’s trapped meat, the man reclined his head and a loud moan escaped his lips. The boy’s hand was giving him such a great pleasure that he felt his head spinning. “Wait… wait…” – he then whined, with a growing urgency in his voice – “This is wrong… It’s wrong! Sodom burnt in the fire of Hell…”

“No need to disturb the Bible” – LaShawn whispered seductively, without stopping his sensual massage on Joshua’s stiff bulge – “In Sodom they didn’t just exchange caresses, they ploughed each other’s asses with their greedy, masculine cocks… Muscled middle-eastern men reaming other men’s holes, shoving their dark-skinned meats all the way into them and planting their hot manly seed deep into their moist recesses…”

 “Awww… FCKKKKK!!” – Joshua suddenly shouted through his clenched teeth; the vivid, erotic description LaShawn was conjuring filled his mind with sinful, and yet irresistible images of hot middle-eastern men making love to each other, in a wild orgy of limbs, asses, cocks, mouths and ejaculations, and this threw him into the abyss. Caught by surprise by an unexpected, irrepressible climax, his hips started rocking wildly, and he pressed his big hand over LaShawn’s, forcing him to keep massaging his throbbing cock while it was spurting a river of pent-up man juice into the tight pants.

And even when the massive ejaculation ended, Joshua kept LaShawn’s hand over his crotch, unwilling to let it go. He leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, trying to process what just happened, and his expression exuded all the shame and the self-reproach that his strict education instilled in his mind.

“Joshua…” – he heard LaShawn call him, with a tender voice – “Joshua, look at me…”

He turned to the black boy with an expression of stinging shame painted on his face and murmured: “You must be thinking that I am… gay or something… I… I’m not like that… Please, don’t think too bad of me…”

“Me, judging you?” – LaShawn replied with a sorry grin – “If you knew what I’ve done in my life, you would be judging me. Harshly.”

“You’re so young…” – Joshua said, still keeping the boy’s hand over his crotch – “What could you possibly do bad enough to deserve my reproach…?”

“I’ve been with so many men, Joshua… Many men. Mostly strangers. I was living on the streets, back then, and I had to put a roof over my head and some food in my stomach. I’m not proud of what I used to do, but I want you to know this: I never accepted money, not once! I only accepted food and shelter, sometimes clothes, from older men who wanted to feel the thrill to have a boy to care of… asking for something in exchange, that is. But usually it didn’t last more than few days, a week at most, and then I had to find someone else to take care of me…”

“And do you… still live that way?” – Joshua asked, cautiously – “I mean, constantly looking for someone to… take care of you?”

LaShawn smiled lovingly, reading a hint of an offer in Joshua’s question. “No, not anymore. One day I met a man that didn’t want my body, he truly cared for me; he didn’t touch me for years. He was as poor and desperate as me, and still he gave me all he could give, out of pure affection. I’m bound to him for the life, I’m his boy and always will.”

LaShawn briefly pointed his eyes to the empty rear seats and Joshua gasped: “Mr. Jorell? Gee, I could never guess he was into guys! And… does he… you know… with you…?”

“He makes love to me, yes, and I love it! Fuck, when he takes out his thirteen-inch black beast I… Oh, sorry! Too much information, I guess…” – LaShawn hurried to say, ashamed, looking at Joshua’s mouth sagging open in a mix of astonishment, curiosity, lust and outrage.

“Now…” – LaShawn concluded with a shy smile – “…do you still think that I could ever think bad of you for what we’ve done? For what I have done to you, actually… No, what I really feel for you is admiration. I’m proud of you, Joshua, and you should be proud of yourself, too. I can only vaguely guess how hard you had to fight with yourself, to let me touch you that way. It takes a man, a real man to do what you did.”

An uncertain smile appeared on Joshua’s face. He finally let go of LaShawn’s hand and looked down at his crotch, drenched with sperm: “What a mess…” – he gasped, worried, and he rushed to take some tissues from the glove compartment. He tried the impossible task to make the shameful wetness disappear, and the more he unsuccessfully tried, the more worried his expression became: “I can’t go around like this! I can’t let Mr. Rice-Duncan see me like this! He will fire me!”

LaShawn placed his hands over Joshua’s, stopping their hurried, frantic movements: “He won’t fire you, don’t worry. I know him well, he’ll just pretend not to notice it. Unfortunately for me, he won’t be able to ignore this…” – LaShawn said with a shy smile, pointing at his own throbbing erection, put on shameful display by the tight pants.

Joshua moved his hand, as to reach out to LaShawn’s bulging cock, but restrained himself: “We’d better move back to the prison” – he said with a sigh – “They’re about to come out and it would be unpardonable if I weren’t there waiting for them.”

With one last thankful smile to LaShawn, he fired the engine and slowly drove back to San Quentin.

 

~ A shocking truth ~

In the visiting room of the prison there was a meaningful silence. Mick had revealed many touching things about Lee, his troubled odyssey from jail to jail and his true sentiments for his only son; but Jorell still had an unanswered question lingering at the bottom of his heart, though he knew that he wouldn’t ever get an answer, now that his father was dead.

“Say…” – Jorell asked to Mick, with a cautious tone – “I know it’s personal, but you said you… helped my father ease his tension: are you… err… into men? No, forget it, you don’t have to answer, I just can’t ask you such private details…”

Mick flushed red and nervously looked at the guard near the door, then lowered his voice and breathed: “Yes, I am. But Lee wasn’t, and he hated being… touched by me; only when he was too tense to think straight, he let me… help him. But let me tell you this: he let me do that only because he knew I liked it, or he wouldn’t ever asked me. And he never… you know… made love to me, though I offered him, many times. He knew he couldn’t do that without hurting me, due to his… ehm… oversize manhood. I’m sorry, Jorell, I don’t mean to shock you talking like this about your father, but you asked me…”

“I asked you because… I’m into men, too” – Jorell replied with a shy smile – “You’ve been so honest to tell me and it’s more than fair that I tell you. I knew that my father was fiercely straight, and I never talked about my sexuality with him. And now I’ll never know if he would’ve loved me, if he knew I was gay…”

“You never told him?” – Mick said, with a bit of surprise – “But he knew. When we became friends, I told him everything about me; I was afraid of his reaction, but he just smiled and said ‘You know, my son is like you’. It didn’t make any difference for him: I already told you what he always said about you being the best thing in his life. He was not homophobic, except when another man tried to force himself on him: then he fought like a lion to protect his own manliness.”

“I wish he didn’t fight that hard…” – Jorell murmured – “He would probably be still alive if he didn’t. But at least, for what it’s worth, he left this place… intact, so to speak.”

Mick’s features were darkened by a sudden sorrow, and he looked at Jorell, uncertain whether to talk or not. Jorell urged him: “I want to know everything, Mick. Wasn’t he still virgin? Did someone rape him here in prison?”

“Not in prison…” – Mick said – “…but at that mansion you talked about. The old owner, a mister… Rice Donegan or something, was an evil man. He often… exerted his authority over Lee, and punished him in ways that are not allowed in this Country since the last century. The old sicko regularly raped Lee, shoving in his ass his cock or even objects, like a broomstick or the handle of a gardening tool.”

“Quel salaud cochon!!” – Beau exclaimed out of the blue, in total shock, slamming hard his hand on the table – “That pig son of a bitch! All that bullshit about sodomy, about acting against nature, and then he vented his disgusting instincts over Lee! Mon Dieu… Jordan… Jordan has died for nothing!!”

Beau took his own face into his hands and stood there, in silence, under Mick’s surprised eyes, as he didn’t expect to see that refined man, who so far had been silently sitting at a corner of the table, react like that.

Jorell waited for Beau to calm down and then looked at Mick, explaining: “The ‘old sicko’ was his father… It’s a long story. But what I don’t understand is why my father didn’t fight back! I mean, here in prison he defended himself like a tiger, and back then, at home…”

“Back then he had you to take care of…” – Mick said gravely, and again Jorell had to use up all his inner strength not to burst in tears like a child. Finding out, after all those years, what sacrifices his father had to do, in order to grant to him a roof over his head, was making his heart explode for the million contrasting sentiments he was feeling: sheer love and thankfulness for his father, and a great pain for him, as well as disgust and anger for how sir Rice-Duncan abused him.

There was a long silence, while Mick, Jorell and Beau exchanged meaningful glances; and then Beau stood up and said in a forcefully controlled voice: “Mr. Drenton, I heartfully thank you for your time and for sharing with us these painful and… unexpected details of Lee’s last years. You have all my esteem and sympathy. I think it’s about time we go. I understand that staying here is very hard, but nevertheless I wish your stay to be as nice as possible. My lawyer, Mr. Sterling, will give you his number, in case you… need something. Farewell, Mr. Drenton.”

Mick stood up, humbled for being addressed with such elegant and respectful words, and replied: “It’s been a pleasure, mister…”

“Rice-Duncan” – Beau replied, bitterly – “though I wish I had a different name…”

“Good bye, Mick” – Jorell said with affection – “I wish you all the best. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, talking to me.”

Beau and Jorell said goodbye to Sterling and went back to the limo, waiting outside. Just as LaShawn foresaw, Beau and Jorell didn’t say a word about the obvious wetness on Joshua’s crotch: it was the last of their thoughts while, behind the limo’s dark dividing screen, they held each other tight and finally let go of their long repressed emotions.

 

~ The Council of the Seven Fires ~

While Beau’s jet was on its way home, Rick was halfway preparing the dinner, but the ring of the doorbell interrupted him. When he opened the front door he saw three Native Americans in casual clothes; they didn’t seem dangerous, but still Rick felt a shiver down his spine when one of them said with grave voice: “We’re here to see Wahkan”; and the second man added: “And his boy”.

“Come in…” – Rick replied, leading the way to the living room – “Get comfortable while I call them.”

He rushed upstairs and after a minute Wahkan and Chayton climbed down to the living room. As soon as Wahkan laid his eyes on the visitors, he stiffened, as if he had recognized the three men and was not pleased to meet them. Chayton tensed, expecting the men to act rudely or angrily, but was surprised when one man greeted them in a polite, traditional way: “Hau, Wahkan. We speak on behalf of Chief Tokalah, who requests your presence at the upcoming Council of the Seven Fires.”

“You and your… boy” – added the second man, and the third one concluded: “The Council will be held at the Standing Rock Reservation, the day after tomorrow, in the morning.”

“Standing Rock?” – Wahkan exclaimed – “It’s in North Dakota! How can I get there in less than two days?!”

“It’s up to you, Wahkan” – the first man replied – “I can only warn you that ignoring the Chief’s invitation would be considered utterly disrespectful to all the Seven Fires.”

With just a nod of their heads, the three men turned around and went away. Wahkan stood still, staring at the closed front door, and then murmured: “They’re going to waste me…”

Chayton was puzzled and alarmed to see his master, usually so confident and authoritative, now looking so defeated and silent. The boy couldn’t really understand what had just happened, so he silently moved in front of Wahkan and slowly placed a hand on his wide chest. He still couldn’t master Wahkan’s ability to read into the people’s mind, but he wanted to try, and dove his gaze into Wahkan’s eyes.

He didn’t see anything, but he suddenly felt a great sense of shame, anger and dismay; he quickly withdrew his hand and asked: “Why is that, Wahkan? Talk to me…”

They sat on the sofa and Wahkan asked, sullenly: “You know what the Seven Fires are, don’t you, Falcon?”

“The seven tribes of the Great Sioux Nation”, was the prompt answer, and Wahkan nodded: “And the Council of the Seven Fires is where the most important decisions are taken: decisions that bind all the tribes. You’ve heard what those men said, but I saw in their eyes what they were hiding: Chief Tokalah, the head of the Council, wants me dead. No, don’t worry, not physically dead, but dead to my people. He wants to shame and disgrace me, until I’ll be forgotten and lost…”

“But… why?” – Chayton asked; and when Wahkan shook his head, unwilling to answer, he again pierced his master’s eyes with his rudimental ability, and this time the silent answer to his question was horribly, painful clear.

“Me??” – the boy exclaimed with chocked voice – “They want to ostracize you because… I’m your boy??”

Wahkan sighed: “Chief Tokalah already tried to throw me out because he’s a petty homophobic. I bet you remember where you found me, the day you became my boy [1]. Back then, Tokalah was just the Chief of my tribe, and per his order, the entire tribe turned his back to me, and I felt… lost. And angry! I, the Sacred One, rejected by my own people! Only because someone spotted me making love to another guy…”

“But then you could put your life back on its tracks!” – Chayton said – “After we settled here at the Cove, you started again to make conferences and teach to the youngsters! Your knowledge of our ancient culture, rites and secrets is widely renown, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I took again my place within the tribe because the Seven Fires favored me. Most of the Sioux tribes accept homosexuality much better than my own tribe. But things have changed: now Tokalah is the Chief of the Council of the Seven Fires, his power extends over the entire Sioux people, and in his eyes taking you as my boy only proves the bad influence I have over the youngsters.”

Chayton became restless, and Wahkan suddenly grabbed his wrist, guessing his thoughts: “No, Chayton! It’s not your fault and going away won’t solve anything. Promise… swear that you won’t leave me! Swear it on your honor! If you leave… they win.”

“I swear, Sacred One” – Chayton said seriously – “I swear on my honor that I won’t ever leave you. It’s true, I thought for a short heartbreaking moment of going away, but you know I couldn’t ever leave you. We have sealed a lifelong pact, and I don’t forget it.”

“I’m going to fight with every fiber of my being against Tokalah and his dangerous small-mindedness…” – Wahkan said gravely – “Will you be at my side, Falcon? It won’t be a walk in the park: I don’t know what will happen at Standing Rock, but it’ll probably be the toughest trial I ever had to face.”

“I will be at your side, Wahkan” – Chayton replied with a loving smile – “I couldn’t be anywhere else.”

“And I wouldn’t expect any less from a brave young man such as you. Now, the only problem is: how on earth can we be at Standing Rock in time? They gave us such short notice on purpose, as Tokalah wants me to miss the Council and have a good game at disgracing me…”

“Standing Rock?” – came Beau’s voice from the main door ­– “There’s an airport nearby. It’s too small for commercial planes, but my jet can easily get there in four hours or so. And before you say anything, my offer is not negotiable: I can clearly see from your face that it’s something very important.”

“Beau, Jorell, welcome back home!” – Wahkan exclaimed, smiling – “As for your offer, Beau… normally I would refuse it, but you’re right, this is a matter of extreme importance. Tomorrow morning I’ll tell you everything. Thank you, my friend. May the Spirits compensate you a hundred times for what you’re giving me.”

“For the time being…” – Beau joked, flashing an affectionate glance to Wahkan – “I’d settle to anything Rick has prepared for dinner: I’m starving, and the smell is delicious!”

In a matter of minutes, the entire Cove gathered around the large dining table, but the dinner wasn’t as boisterous as usual. Both Beau and Jorell were still quite shocked from the things Mick revealed them about their fathers; Wahkan and Chayton were silent and tense, thinking to what awaited them at Standing Rock; and even LaShawn was unusually silent, until he raised his gaze to Jorell and asked: “Sir… May I go to Standing Rock with Wahkan? I like flying on the jet!”

Jorell glanced at Wahkan and replied: “I don’t think Wahkan is going to a place where you can go with him.”

“Oh, no problem, I will wait with Joshua until it’s time to come back” – LaShawn said, but without his usual over-the-top excitement, he was actually quite serious saying so, and Jorell was a bit puzzled. Wahkan nodded and said: “Jorell, the kid can come with us, no problem about that, though he won’t be able to join us at the Council of the Seven Fires: it’s strictly reserved to the representatives of the seven Sioux tribes.”

“Uhm… I don’t know…” – Jorell said to LaShawn – “When we go upstairs you’ll tell me what you have in mind, kid. Because you have something in mind. Besides” – he added in a lower voice – “I have some questions to ask you about that Joshua guy: I’m not blind, kid, and I saw an unmistakable stain on his trousers…”

LaShawn lowered his eyes and flashed a guilty grin: “Not at the dining table, sir” – he murmured – “You know Beau’s rule”. Luckily for him, the dinner was almost over, and few minutes later Beau stood up, signaling the end of the meal, and everyone retired to their rooms.

 

~ Soothing the anxiety ~

When Wahkan and Chayton were back to their suite, they wished each other goodnight and the boy moved to his own room. Wahkan stripped naked, ready to go to bed, and was surprised to hear Chayton coming back to the main bedroom. He was naked, too, and slowly moved in front of his master: “I can’t leave you alone, tonight, sir. What I saw in your eyes, earlier… touched me deeply. Are you… scared of what may happen there?”

Wahkan seemed embarrassed, as his usual demeanor, his assertive attitude wouldn’t let him show his weakness in front of his boy. Except… Chayton was not a boy, he was now a man, and Wahkan had already had ample proof of that. He lowered his eyes and said under his breath: “Yes, Chayton. I’m scared. I know my flaws, and my worst one is my pride. If all the Seven Fires turn their back on me, I would become a nobody, a pariah despised and shunned by all. I know how much it hurts feeling like that, as it already happened. This is what scares me…”

Chayton stepped forward, getting closer, placed a hand on the man’s cheek and said in a firm voice: “You too”.

Wahkan shook faintly his head, but Chayton insisted: “You too, Wahkan.”

The man flashed a faint smile and placed his hand on Chayton’s face, while Chayton stared at his master’s eyes intensely. How many times Wahkan had performed that rite with him! How many times Wahkan had exerted his superior power over his young, inexperienced boy! But now that boy had grown up, had learned from the best mentor, and was ready to follow his master’s example.

Obeying to Chayton’s silent command, Wahkan pressed his body against his boy’s, chest on chest, groin on groin, cock on cock. With a bit of surprise, Wahkan felt Chayton pour into his eyes an increasing sexual desire, a pleasurable tension that ran through his body and made his long cock stiffen. His mind was still crowded with the heavy thoughts about Standing Rock and what awaited him there, but Chayton’s sparkling eyes cleared his mind, like a warm wind clears a valley from the mist.

And that desire… Oh, that youthful, irrepressible lust that Chayton was making him feel! Wahkan felt younger, alive, and his cock roared to a throbbing erection, propelled by a growing sexual tension that was quickly becoming almost unbearable. That was the moment when usually Wahkan said a simple ‘Now’, and they both exploded in a body-shaking orgasm. But Chayton didn’t say anything: instead, he lowered his hand and gently pushed Wahkan on the bed, making him fall sprawling on the mattress.

Chayton stood still for a moment, towering on Wahkan, admiring his lean, chiseled body, his sinewy legs, his long cock pointing to the ceiling and his exceptionally low-hanging balls resting on the bedsheets. The boy felt powerful, and knew that had Wahkan under his spell: he could do anything to him, even let him open his back portal, a door that never opened for anyone. But Chayton wasn’t doing that to humiliate his master! No, he wanted him to feel again the mighty, invincible warrior he’d always been, a man respected, feared and worshipped by anyone.

Chayton spat on his fingers and spread the saliva into the crack of his own ass: lube and fingering were for boys, not for men like him! He climbed on the bed and straddled Wahkan’s hips; and then, locking eyes with his master, impaled himself over his stiff rod.

Wahkan inhaled sharply, and a flash in his eyes told to Chayton how intense was for him feeling the boy’s velvety insides hugging and gripping around his engorged cock. Chayton started bouncing up and down the stiff rod, rhythmically clenching his ass muscles to give an excruciating massage to his master, speeding up and slowing down according to his man’s unspoken desires.

It was thrilling for Chayton being in charge, but even more thrilling was realizing at what extent he was able to read into his master’s eyes, moment by moment, the intensity of his pleasure, and he used his entire body, his ass, his hands and his eyes, to heighten the man’s pleasure to the brim of the orgasm, and keep him there, unable to escape the tender trap.

Wahkan started breathing heavily, and though his mouth was silent, his eyes pleaded his boy to be merciful, to let him fall into the abyss; the sight of his powerful master totally yielding control to him was highly erotic for Chayton, who felt a sudden surge of pleasure running through his own cock. Chayton knew that with just a couple strokes would be enough for him to shoot, but he didn’t touch himself. Instead, he sped up the up-and-down motion, rejoicing the sight of Wahkan’s body stiffening, his eyes partly closing, his breath becoming ragged.

A forceful shot of manly seed inundated Chayton’s ass, immediately followed by many others. The boy sat down on the throbbing pole with all his weight, holding back his own orgasm that was about to explode; when, at long last, he felt the rhythmical pulses of Wahkan’s ejaculation stop, he stood up on his knees and leaned forward, bringing his own rock-hard cock at an inch from Wahkan’s mouth.

Chayton knew that Wahkan didn’t like sucking cock, he rarely did that; and never in his life Chayton would humiliate his hero, his powerful master: that was, on the contrary, an act of pure devotion. He looked down at Wahkan, pointing his stiff dick at his face, and repeated the words that his master taught him: “Drink my essence, Sacred One, and we’ll be one”.

Wahkan’s eyes flashed with a great respect and admiration for his boy… for his man, and enveloped with his mouth the hot member, sucking it with passion; it took no more than few seconds for Chayton to stiffen and gasp for the long-awaited orgasm that swept his body and mind; though in the throes of the pleasure, Chayton resisted the urge to shove his dick all the way into Wahkan’s inexperienced mouth, and stood still, panting, while his master gulped down, shot after shot, all his manly seed.

When Chayton came down from the sexual high, he leaned down, gazed into his master’s eyes and said softly, like he’d done many times: “I’m devoted to you, Sacred One”. And surprisingly, Wahkan replied: “I’m devoted to you, Falcon”, and pulled him down in a churning, passionate kiss.

 

While the two Sioux slowly drifted to a serene sleep, into each other’s arms, upstairs, Jorell and LaShawn were talking. Jorell was not angry, he was actually curious, as he couldn’t understand the unusual serious tone used by his boy when he asked to fly to Standing Rock with Wahkan and Chayton… and Joshua.

“Now I want the truth, kid.” – Jorell said – “What’s all this talk about Joshua? You know the rules of the Cove. So, what do you want to do with him?”

LaShawn looked seriously at Jorell and replied: “What the Cove is supposed to do, sir. Help him…”

* * * * * * * *