The Hathaway

Genesis

When I opened my eyes the apartment was dark. I could hear Ben’s gentle breath holding a steady rhythm beside me and, turning, could just make out his silhouette in the dim light of the bedside clock. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom. According to the clock it was almost one in the morning, and while I was emptying my bladder, I realized I was quite hungry. “I should be,’ I thought, “I missed supper.” Heading into the kitchen to look for a snack, I found a note on the counter. It was from Ben.

“Babe,

You have no idea how hard it was for me to let you sleep. When I found you laying on the bed, practically naked, pitching a rather large tent in your shorts, all I wanted to do was wake you up with a blow job. But I knew you hadn’t slept last nigh, so I resisted the urge. If you’re hungry there’s a plate of leftovers for you in the fridge. I’ll tell you about my conversation with Andi in the morning, and Sabina had some interesting insights as well. Enjoy the late dinner and come cuddle with me when you’re done.

Ben

P. S.

You look way too angelic when you’re asleep. Where’s that horny little devil when I really need him?

I smiled to myself and opened the fridge. The leftovers looked great, but I didn’t want to eat that much at this hour, so I made some toast and poured s glass of milk, just enough to get me through till breakfast. When I returned to the bed, I took off my shorts and slipped under the covers with Ben, spooning for all I was worth. He nestled his ass back against my dick, trying to maximize the amount of skin to skin contact we could make, and when I worked my fingers under his arm so I could cup one of his pecs in my hand, he drew my hand to his mouth and kissed it before replacing it on his chest and covering it with his own. Neither of us spoke, and the only sounds that escaped our lips were contented sighs as we both drifted back into our own dreams.

I found myself sweating profusely as I gathered large stones and carried them to the place where we were building our new home. We had journeyed for much of the summer and had finally found a spot that we thought would suit us. It was in the northern wilderness, and our neighbors were mostly Indians and the French traders who passed through on their way up the river in search of beaver pelts and other spoils from the great wild forest. A few other homesteads were scattered around the area, but they pretty much kept to themselves. We had chosen this place both for its remoteness, and its proximity to the sea.

The Indians were friendly to us even though we were of English origin. They had not been friendly to many of the previous settlers, viewing them as invaders, but once they heard that we had fled form our compatriots and were considered outcasts, they almost adopted us, helping us choose a spot for our home, and offering us advice on how to survive the approaching winter. We planted gardens even before we began building, and already the first harvest was imminent.

Today I was helping with the construction of the foundations. With luck we would have a sturdy two story building ready before the first snowfall, but it was going to take a lot of hard work and persistence. I didn’t mind, though, our long trek had cemented our commitment to rebuild ourselves as a family built on love, not rules. Everyone labored with joy, offering themselves, not out of a selfish desire for praise, but as a way of acting out the love we were striving to achieve.

Our routine was simple. The men labored on the building during daylight hours and the women labored in the gardens and at fishing to provide our meals. In the evenings, after we had eaten, we would gather around a fire for worship. These days that only included singing and testimonies, but I had increasingly been requested to offer meditations on scripture. We had all been taking our turn at this task, even including the women, something that had been practiced when Mother was with us, but since her death had been less and less frequent, as the usurper had sought to consolidate his sway over the community. I had no intention of becoming a preacher, nor did I want the responsibility of caring for the spiritual needs of the community. I did not feel myself worthy of such a great task. But whenever I spoke the others seemed to find comfort and inspiration to help them live through these hard times, so I reluctantly accepted the call to offer what little I could.

One of the other men had a talent for creating songs, and as we worked, he would often make something up to help lighten the load and make the day pass more easily. He would sing a part of it and the rest of us would repeat it. When he had another part to add he would teach us that. Some days he made up as many as three or four new songs. We never wrote them down, we didn’t have to. They were memorable and easy, and the repetition of singing them while we worked planted them so deep in our minds that we could never forget them. At night we often taught the newest ones to the women, and the next day we might hear an echo of it as they sang it in the garden. I took a moment from my labor to catch my breath, and looked at the strong bodies of my brethren, laboring with both their muscles and their hearts. A more pleasant sight was not to be seen anywhere.

At the end of the day We made our way to the edge of the water while the women made the final preparations for dinner. On these hot days we rewarded ourselves with a cool dip in the sea to wash away the sweat before our evening meal. I was the last to arrive and all the other men were already naked and in the water. I stripped down and joined them, being greeted with walls of splashing water. Despite the heat of the day, the northern climes meant that the water was always cold, and their greeting, while refreshing, was also a bit of a shock. As was the case with all of the other men, as soon as I dipped myself in the water, my manhood shriveled and almost disappeared from the intense cold.

Once we had rinsed away the sweat of the day, we all lay on the rocks, allowing our bodies to dry in the fading light. I had to admit, the labor had changed everyone. Those who had been fat before our departure were now lean and more energetic than they had been, and those who were slight of build had filled out and now could boast a body as muscular as any athlete. I admired this collection of men, thinking them beautiful both in spirit and in body. As they dried off their shrunken masculinity returned to its normal size, and some surpassed that to become truly swollen with pride. No one blushed or hid, after all, we were brothers, we had no secrets from each other.

Such a moment would have been impossible at our previous home, but here, in the wild, where God’s nature ruled supreme, we allowed ourselves to partake in the freedom Adam had known in his innocency. I was not sure if the women shared the sight of their bodies with each other as we did, but they set their own routines and we did not interfere with them. The separation between us was quite strict, with the women sleeping in a hollow that was distant enough from the men to be private, but close enough that an alarm could be raised if there were trouble. The men slept in a similar hollow, side by side, and we often offered each other the comfort of an embrace as we slept. More than once I had felt the body of my brother grow hard as he found comfort in the nearness of my body. And more than once I had taken comfort from a brother’s offered hand. We never spoke of these things, but we knew them to be an important part of our life together.

I grew excited at the thought of the approaching evening, and allowed my manhood to swell with anticipation. This was not pride, this was a way of showing my love for my brothers. I knew that by showing this love I was inciting others to show their love as well, and soon we all were manifesting our love for one another and admiring the common bond we all shared. While I knew we would all wait for the privacy of our sleeping hollow before finding comfort with each other, a few seemed impatient, moving their hands up and down their thighs or across their chests. I understood this impatience. Some days I could hardly make it through the day, my need for the closeness of a brother grew so intense. Indeed I had seen two or three slip away during the work day to offer each other such solace, but so far, I had managed to resist that temptation toward sloth. I refused to pass judgment on them, knowing my own weaknesses, and strove to encourage the community instead.

The sight of my brothers’ love for me and each other became overwhelming and I closed my eyes, allowing my hands to wander below my hips. Just the sensation of being hard gave me so much pleasure that I felt as if I were being caressed by the universe itself. I felt the heavens open up and swallow me into their divine warmth. I became lost in eternity, with no sense of my own body as distinct from the rest of creation. I could feel the liquid pulsing of love through all things, and I knew my own pulsing to be part of the infinite dance that was God.

When I opened my eyes, Ben was struggling to swallow the immense amount of cum that was issuing from my body. It covered his face and chest as he knelt between my outstretched legs, acting on his earlier desire to wake me with a blow job. I smiled and said, “looks like you got more than you bargained for there.”

He didn’t respond, but remained lost in the fountain of cum that he had so earnestly desired. I gave myself over to his ministrations, finally placing my hand on the top of his head as a gentle acknowledgment that I was actually awake. He continued to suck, lick, and slurp until he seemed almost exhausted by his efforts and buried his face in my crotch, inhaling my musk deeply before mumbling, “good morning,” to my balls.

I leaned forward to caress his head and back as he seemed ready to fall asleep in my lap. When he finally raised his head, I drew his face to mine and kissed some of the cum off of his mouth. “How did you sleep?” I asked.

He smirked at me and answered, “As well as can be expected with a dick in my ass all night.”

I looked at him quizzically. “What?”

“When you came back to bed you got hard instantly, which was fine by me, but after I thought you had finally fallen asleep, you just slipped it in without any warning and kept it there all night. You didn’t fuck me or anything, it was more like you had just parked it in the garage for the evening. And it never got soft. Never. Not even now, after all that cum.”

I looked down and he was right. I still had a massive boner. It was like my dick wasn’t my own. It felt good, as erections always do, but I wasn’t particularly horny. It was odd. We took our showers, and eventually my excitement waned, but I wondered if I should wear a jock strap instead of regular underwear just in case my dick decided to declare its independence while I was at work. I hadn’t had to think about that since I was a teenager, and for some reason it made me feel old.

“I spoke to Andi and she is going to meet us here when you get out of work. That way the four of us, you, me, her, and Sabina, can head over to Evelyn’s together. Sound good?”

I nodded as I was tying my shoes. “So what did Sabina have to say? You said in your note that…”

“Oh my god!” he began. “You’re not going to believe...I’ll tell you after breakfast, otherwise you’ll be late for work.”