White Knights and Savage Days

Thunder, rain, and wet hippies oh my…

White Knights & Savage Days -Tales and times in Boise

Disclaimer the story you are about to read is true the names have been changed to protect the innocent - and truth is always stranger than fiction I can't make this shit up. Heads up this is a proto-type story for a book combining erotica and cooking so if you are looking for FAP material it will be a bit “lite” If you are interested and liked the concept please place a comment.

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Back in the late 90’s I lived in Boise, Idaho in a 100-year-old apartment complex—on the second floor of a beautiful three-story-old girl known, as “The White Savage” The apartment was nestled in an original Boise neighborhood off State Street surrounded by antique trees an amazing donut shop and a few blocks from Joe Albertson's first grocery store. The Savage (as she was affectionately called) was an eclectic mix of bohemian and up-and-comer—Gay, straight, bi, tri, male and female, and some who knows what?

The White-Savage Apartments was the Pacific NorthWest equal to Armistead Maupin’s Barbary Lane but landlocked.

For those that do not know Boise-she is a quaint little city, the state capital, full of trees, clean as a bug’s ear. Boise is the only place I have ever lived you could eat off the streets and the “fringe” punk rockers ironed their clothes.

Boise is nestled in a valley-giving it a unique microclimate that makes it prone to mild winters and extreme monsoon-like rains in midsummer and early fall ushering in winter. These rains are often accompanied by ugly powerful microbursts of wind a couple of times each year (The microbursts are strong enough to blow your garden shed over a fence half a block away, take the roof off your house, or move large planters across your porch).

This is a true story, names are changed a bit, but the rest is as true as I can remember it.

After a beautiful warm summer and several very warm September days and nights-A, cold mountain wind blew into Boise and with it dark thunderheads and rain clouds formed. As the heavy ness built in the air-a very cold northern wind followed and the smell of ozone and rain.

It was a typical Saturday Morning, Coffee at the Flying M Coffee House then a trip to hit the Albertsons-number 1 for some shopping and quality flirt time with the sexy butcher and see what screaming deal on a huge chunk of prime grade a dead cow he could give me-(This day I ended up with a beautiful roast), a basketful of fall roots, and some fruit and a plan for a restful evening in with a good friend, some fine wine and food and conversation.

When I got home I peeled some apples and pears and tossed them with some cinnamon, clove, chili powder, vanilla extract, cornstarch, a bit of sugar, and some Markers Mark and vanilla powder tosed and let them marinade- meantime I made a pie crust, chilled it in the freezer, rolled it and cut it and filled it with the marinated apples and pears, I wove a top crust and popped it in the 425 degrees F oven to bake 35 to 45 minutes depending on your oven.

Then around 4 pm-I got out the old covered roaster, oiled it, and prepped the roast- I oiled it and covered it with some ground pepper blend( From Crate and Barrel), and sea-salt, cut up the carrots, purple potatoes, baby reds, rutabaga and the last of my Walla Walla Sweet onions of the season- added some diced fresh herbs from the shared Savage garden( Rosemary, Thyme, Oregano, Basil) a good glug of El Gato red wine from Argentina put the lid on and popped into the 450-degree oven (for the first 20 minutes then 325 until it hits the right internal temp of 115 to 120) I measured out the ingredients for drop biscuits, grabbed some wine, set the table.

My good friend/neighbor was due over around 6 for pre-dinner Maker's Mark cocktails and some appetizers. We try to do a major dinner at least once a month on Saturday to catch up, decompress and watch some TV.

Right on the dot at 6 –my dinner guest showed up. We adjourned to my front-covered balcony with cocktails in hand for some storm-watching. Boise’s location makes for amazing storm-watching as weather moves in over the mountains. My balcony gave the view and a chance to enjoy the last of the summer flowers all to a wonderful soundtrack of Narada's new age music. Makers Mark and 7up never tasted as good.

The lightning started to flash and raindrops started falling –the wind gusts started up. We knew it was going to be a big, wet, cold, blowing night…Suddenly without warning the rain hit hard – like a wave hitting an Oregon rocky shore. Jason and both looked up and saw a long-haired young man with a hiking backpack walking in front of the building, in the short time he was already soaked through.

If you live in Boise you know to get out of this type of storm and into some shelter as fast as you can-these storms can become dangerous very fast.

Jason (my neighbor) and I looked at each other and yelled at the kid to come in and get out of the rain just as lightning struck 50 feet ahead of him. He fell down into the neighbor's flower bed covering himself in mud and leaves. The drenched young man got up, ran across the street, and came into the lobby.

Jason and I went down to meet him and eventually guide him up to the apartment.

The kid was a wet muddy mess. Jason ran back up and grabbed a couple of towels to help dry him off so he didn’t leave puddles on the stairs or on my freshly polished hardwood floors. It was obvious after a few seconds that our wet friend was too wet for a simple towel off so he quickly suggested getting undressed in the tiled lobby to avoid too much more mess. Totally unabashed the boy doffed his pack, coat, boots (literally full of water), shirt, socks, and pants –leaving him in black CK boxer briefs- Jason grabbed his wet clothes and offered to run them down to the Savages Laundry as I escorted the young man upstairs.

As you entered my apartment the bathroom was immediately on the right. One of the cool features of most of The Savage’s apartments were the carefully restored bathrooms, spacious with beautiful original claw foot tubs and octagonal tile floors-they looked like a scene out of a classic movie ( A quick side ponder --how many butts had been in those tubs over 100 years?).

My young guest saw the bathroom and immediately asked if he could take a bath and clean up—I handed him a clean towel – he grabbed his backpack and went in to the bathroom—I walked in and showed him how to seal the drain, and handed him a Jar of Kuma Sutra Treasures of the Sea Blue bath salts, lit a couple of Pier 1 candles and told him to take his time and soak and relax away. A minute later the door opened a bit and the hippie child asked if I had a robe -- all his clothes were wet. I grabbed a terry robe and a pair of my ex’s 2xst tighty whities, and a laundry basket and handed them to him and said to sort out his wet stuff so it could be washed and dried after his bath.

Within a couple of minutes, he slid the basket out just as Jason walked back in…being the good doobie he was he grabbed the basket and headed to the laundry room.

When Jason returned and I updated him on the situation and gave him the task of finishing the biscuits for dinner. I grabbed a couple more bottles of fine Walla Walla WA wine and added an extra place setting to the table.

By this time the storm was really building up—Thunder was shaking the windows, Nick the cat was pacing and I was gearing up to see if dinner would be served before the power went out.

After about 30 minutes I heard the bathtub drain and the shower start- I put the biscuits in the oven and pulled the roast out to rest. I Grabbed some of the drippings of the roast added some more El Gato red wine, a bit of flour, and arrowroot, and made a thick Au Jus gravy- I popped the cork on a nice L'ecole #41 Wineries Burgundy wine to let it breathe just as my new guest wandered out of the Bath dressed in a terry robe, looking a bit more relaxed and smelling of Kama Sutra Treasures of the Sea (much improved over ode to wet hippy) I asked if he wanted to join us for dinner- and got a hardy “Hell yes” It smells amazing. Soon the timer buzzed and I pulled out the biscuits, Jason started to cut the roast and dished up roots. I lit the candles and we three sat down for a meal as the storm raged outside.

The roast was perfect, the salad crisp, the wine rich, and almost too decadent. The apple-pear pie was great. By the time dinner was done it was already 9 pm, and there was still no sign of the storm breaking. The three of us made quick work of the dinner cleanup and reconvened in the living room for a nightcap. I broke out the snifters and warmers and the bottle of Cointreau.

The Living room window thermometer showed the outside temps had dropped to the 40s (F) —and to quote Burl Ives from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer ``It was not a fit night for man nor beast”. Idaho winter was well on its way. Jason and I braved the cold and brought in several plants from the balcony to winter over. (Jason worked a great geothermal heated nursery/greenhouse and wintered over my plants every year) .

Based on our quick outside experience we knew there was no way our guest was going to be leaving to go anywhere tonight.

I was off the next 4 days but Jason had to work, so at 10:45 he made his good nights and left down the stairs to his basement abode. (Jason’s apartment was an amazing open plan studio with super “loft-like” energy with exposed pipes and an amazing mini kitchen and 4X4 ft windows)

I invited the hippie child to spend the night. I Gave him the choice of the couch, floor, or sharing my bed (said jokingly-- well halfhearted jokingly)-Now, before you think I lost my mind letting a total stranger spend the night… we three had talked over the evening I had learned the young man was from Alberta, Canada- the son of two MD’s, was 25, just had graduated with a degree in health science/ Physiology/Training and was heading home after a 4-month “walk-a-bout” of the US. He had a pregnant girlfriend and was debating asking her to marry him… As I got to know him I found this beautiful bright, educated, young soul. I just realized I never described him- his name was Mark, he was 5’7, about 165 pounds, brown hair, muscled and fit, full beard, curly long hair, and a very furry chest and legs.

I felt comfortable having him in the house like he was a long-lost old friend.

Mark and I opted for another nightcap and to watch some of the late news to grab the forthcoming weather report. Per the weather report, this storm was here for two or three more days of intense wind, cold, and rain.

I need to mention I have arthritis in my knee and back. I have had it since I was in my 20’s and by this time in my early 40’s it flared with the weather changes. The storm really made it flare up.

After shutting off the TV and turning on the music again I went to get up off the couch and my knee gave out and I bit the floor. It was so not pretty. The fall wrenched both my back and my knee. Mark helped me get up. We talked a bit more -when I felt my back start to seize. I explained the situation and excused myself for a hot shower, and to take a “head off the swelling” dose of Celebrex (an anti-inflammatory) and a muscle relaxer (Flexural) I left Mark watching the aquarium by candlelight- listening to Michael Gettle’s San Juan Suite.

I finished the shower, and threw on a robe and boxer briefs; just as the Celebrex and flexural were kicking in. I grabbed some blankets and a pillow for Mark for the couch and headed to my bed -while I was still able to walk. Just as I was crawling in, Mark knocked on my door and reminded me he was trained in sports medicine and wondered if a massage would help—I was just chemically induced enough to say “hell yes”.

Mark had me lay face up, he sat on the floor and started in on my feet—the kid had strong hands and knew how to use them. He hit all the reflexology points—he then worked up to my knees and thighs using his skilled kneading. He then had me roll on my stomach and asked if I minded him taking his robe off. He straddled my legs and proceed to ever so gently start working my very sore back, probing and identifying the worst spots – I was in relaxation heaven – the wind blowing outside, beautiful music, scents of Pier One autumn candles, a stunning nearly naked man massaging me –I looked at the clock as he started my back and it was 2 am.

The next thing I know I wake up and see 9 am on the clock, The CD player was still playing the 6 disks from the night before and I feel squished –but in a good way. I feel Nick the cat in his usual space on my left side and I have a very warm something asleep on my right side. There was a scratchy beard, and a hairy chest attached to what I suspect was a throbbing boner pushed up against my right thigh. The storm outside was still waging and the apartment was cold—(The Savage had a central boiler that had to be manually switched on to activate the radiators. Thus, the first cold evenings got really cold until the boiler was left on for the winter.) This was the first cold night and day of the pending season. I didn’t want to move, this was heaven! Being warm, squished, and relaxed. I laid there for another hour dozing until the urge to pee hit- I gently un-entangled myself from the boy and cat, covered him back up, hit the head, and went to put some Flying M coffee on—I noticed all the balcony plants were gone and sitting on the table was a basket of folded laundry with a note – no writing just a big smiley face.

While the coffee was brewing I hit the shower and pulled on some fresh boxer briefs and some sweats- leaving the boy to sleep- I turned the oven on to help heat the apartment and mixed up some Betty Crocker Blueberry muffins (Follow the box instruction for water and egg and temp but add to the mix a teaspoon of cinnamon, a teaspoon of vanilla extract, an eighth teaspoon of chili powder and a tablespoon of strawberry jelly, mix well-ladle into muffin cups or put into a greased 9X9 pan to make muffin bars) I popped them into the oven and went to ponder the night over my coffee. I was reading the paper, finishing my first cup of Flying M special roast when a man with only briefs and a boner on came into the living room. I got up, poured him some coffee, pulled the muffins from the oven, and went and sat back on the couch. Mark immediately moved over and snuggled up against me- I grabbed the nearby throw and pulled it over us and continued to read the paper—I was reading the Entertainment section trying to process the fact I had a supposed straight boy snuggled against me in just his underwear with his hand on my thigh…I decided to just enjoy the moment. Mark and I stayed on the couch reading the paper, listening to wind and rain, drinking coffee, and eating muffins for a couple of hours. Not really talking-just being. I had only gotten up to take another dose of med, change out the CD cartridge to some light classical and make a pot of Montana Huckleberry tea—It was an amazing day -he and I were just there- one of those magical zen moments in your life—A time of quiet beautiful joy.

Somewhere around 2 we decided it was nap time and we returned to the bed (which Mark had made up before coming out for coffee)—Mark still in just tighty whites-as I got up I noticed his briefs had a very large translucent wet spot, as I was laying down he quietly asked if I was wearing the sweats to nap in—I stopped and realized he didn’t want me to wear sweats to nap in, I took them off, next thing I know I have a mouth on my nipple and a hand on my crotch—and my hand being steered over to his very very wet crotch—within minutes we were in rut, like wild animals, exploring each other’s bodies—at one point Mark whispers to me that he had always wanted to do this and never had. Over the next few hours, Mark got to experience how men made love to each other - All aspects of it.

Somewhere around 7:30, I realized we needed to take a break and eat—I grabbed the phone hit *4 for Flying Pie, and ordered an extra-large Lasagna Pizza and Salad—they said they were running an hour and 15 minutes for delivery—Perfect! I grabbed Mark and took him into the shower to wash off the sweat and cum. We got out and dried off. I threw him another pair of my ex’s 2xst Briefs and some workout shorts and a T-shirt to put on. He made the bed as I put on some clothes. No sooner than I pulled my shirt on there was a knock at the door-it was Flying Pie Pizza and Jason (he could smell a pizza being delivered from 1000 feet)—I cringed even with burning Pier One Autumn Spice candles all day any gay man walking in the door could still smell man sex musk and feel the sexual energy after 4 plus hours of hard man to man sex—Jason made sure to comment. I was afraid it would cause Mark to freak—I was preparing for the post, “man on-man sex straight man guilt-freak out” as it was. Guess what it didn’t happen; instead, Mark went over and gave Jason a big hug and kissed and thanked him for the night before and for doing his laundry-- Jason’s jaw dropped- I opened a Canyon Cellars Basic Burg Poured three glasses and we ate pizza and salad–Mark curled up against me the whole time – Jason in a state of flabbergasted and gobsmacked- giving me the “Lucy you got some ‘splaining to do look” most of the night—around 10:30 he bid his adieu —Immediately Mark took my hand and put it on his very hard cock and asked me to take him again but this time doggy style…You can figure out how the rest of the night and most of the early morning went.

The next three days flew by--

Mark ended up staying with me for a little over three weeks- Part of the reason he was in Phoenix was to meet with Boise State University professors about some potential graduate work programs that gave him a chance to do a mini internship and check out the school and program.

We became very great intimate friends during that time-- By the time he left, there were very few positions from the Joy of Gay Sex we hadn’t tried- Very few of each other’s fantasies we had not explored. Mark's extended stay meant he had to fly home instead of continuing his walking adventures and Hitch Hiking experience.

After a night of feverish lovemaking (he said we didn’t fuck- we made man love) I took him to the airport and after a lot of hugging and some tears sent him north to Calgary.

I got a phone call that evening thanking me and telling me he had gotten home safe and sound.

A few weeks later I got a birthday card with a large sum Pier One gift card in it with a sticky note saying for more candles. A week or so after that I got a birth announcement about his little boy being born (strangely he had my first name as a middle name) and a wedding invite…then never another peep—The three weeks and three days he was with me remains one of the most special periods of my life.

A follow-up side note- I was the HIV/STD prevention program manager for the State of Idaho – a CDC-funded position. It required me to attend lots of national/International meetings. Two years after Mark's visit I was in Pittsburgh at a LARGE HIV conference- I ended up getting into the opening meeting a bit late and had to sit at the back corner table with some other latecomers. My table was joined by a wonderful married couple both MDs -we all ate together- the USAID conference always does a get-to-know-your-neighbors exercise at lunch, as we went around and shared the places we were from when the MD couple heard where I had come from -- they commented on how wonderful their son thought Boise was, how he had spent several weeks there a couple of years ago-how it changed his life…I never asked the son's name but I could see Mark in this couple's eyes and facial features.

We spent the next week at the conference together seeing each other at dinners and lunches and at the conference seminars—at one point one it became picture sharing time and they showed me the picture of their soon-to-be three-year-old grandson- Mark Cameron-it was one of those WOW moments…you never think possible just how small a global village we really live in.

I have not heard from Mark, I imagine he went on to get his doctorate and make more beautiful babies, I hope that he too remembers that magical experience.