As Harry closed the door, I pounced on him, unbuttoning his jacket, and removing it slowly, as if to music, gently rubbing it all over his back, buttocks and thighs before letting it slip to the floor. Next came the bow tie, unfastening it, and throwing it between my legs, and letting it rub all over my crutch and ass, and then flirting with it under his nose. Then the shirt: slowly undoing the pearl studs, cupping them in my hand and rubbing them on his cock, lifting them to my mouth and rolling my tongue all over them. The shirt was then open, and I pulled it out of his pants, his white braces still attached to his pants and over his shirt: First one brace, then the next, allowing them to drop to his side, all this time, kissing him and deep throating him with my tongue, as he was with mine. He was panting now, but I was determined to play this scene out to the bitter end. The pants had a buttoned fly, in a double seam style. These were more difficult, but I soon had them figured, and undone, sliding the pants slowly down his thighs and to his ankles. I lifted him up, and carried him over to the bed, removed his shoes and socks, then his pants. Harry had on a pair of boxer shorts, by Tommy Helfiger, white with a red waistband. It wasn’t the first time I had seen Harry in boxer shorts, but I liked what I saw: his balls hanging free, cock now pointing to the heavens braced against the stretchy fabric. My tongue and lips started to move up his legs, his thighs, and then to his covered but straining cock. I gobbled his balls and rolled them around in my mouth. Harry’s face was in raptures, and I could see the whole scene was really turning him on. I then started to kiss and lick his cock through his boxers, and they were soaked by my spital in no time. Moving further up, I swirled my tongue around his belly button as he squirmed and began to move his hips. My tongue was in overtime now, moving up to his furry chest and delicious luscious nipples. They were standing out, pert and erect, and my tongue was causing Harry to really move about on the bed. Finally I reached his mouth again, and his passions were raised to extreme, and I thought he was going to eat me there and then.
I moved my hand down to his ass; my fingers moving slowly and deliberately between his buttocks, his pink little hole opening at every touch of my finger, wanting me to finger fuck him. I moved my head down to his balls again, and then started to lick between his balls and his ass. My tongue wanted his ass: his sweet juicy ass. His little pucker there for my tongue to thrill and excite: To tongue fuck and finger fuck, to moisten with my spit. He tasted so good, his manly musk heady and delicious, driving my senses wild. I had to have him. I had to have him now. I grabbed the lube from the side draw, and applied a liberal dose to his ass and cock and to my cock too. I placed the head of my cock at the opening to his little pucker, and pushed slowly, and as he was already close to orgasm, I entered him with little effort. I slid in smoothly and slowly, sliding all the way to my balls. I waited a while till I felt his muscles tighten over my cock, and then started to pump him with gay abandon. Tonight was to be a hard night of rough sex, and we would fuck each other till we collapsed in a tired happy heap, locked together in happy wedded bliss. Harry came before me, his passions already well into the state of oblivion. It took a little longer for me, but as Harry came, I started to pump hard and long, almost coming out of him in my intensity. As I came, I collapsed on top of Harry, our fluids combining between us, lubricating our bodies with our love. When I opened my eyes, tears were streaming down Harry’s face, but the look on his face said ‘I love you’ and I smiled at him, and kissed him with a passion only true love will ever know. We both knew we were sole mates, brought together to be with each other for eternity. A real odd couple, but nonetheless lovers.
Wedding Breakfast in Mareeba
Leaving Canada and especially Toronto was heart breaking. Our most treasured memories now lay in this city, along with our valued friends. Our plane was delayed by bad weather for over 4 hours, but eventually we were heading for Hawaii and a transfer to a QANTAS flight back to Singapore then another transfer to get us back to Cairns. This time there were no stopovers, and with mum and Harry’s parents, it made for a long flight. Once again, we were able to take advantage of the washroom cubical and without discovery this time, although mum did peek out from her blanket as we came back with a knowing smile on her face. We arrived back at Cairns at 4am. The delay in Canada nearly made us miss the flight from Hawaii, but as we were flying 1st class all 5 of us, a message was sent ahead, and the flight delayed for 1 hour for us to catch up. I was surprised our luggage arrived with us in Cairns.
It was Friday morning, and I was surprised to see Joe there in the terminal waiting for us. Along with Joe was his partner Ray. Ray and Joe had met similarly to Harry and I, with Ray being about 12 to 15 years older than Joe. Ray was seriously injured about 10 years ago in a motorcycle accident, and was paralysed from the waist down. Joe would not abandon him, and now looks after his every need. Joe dotes on Ray; you can see it in his eyes. Ray was very well off, even before his accident, although compensation for his injuries just added a healthy extra to his wealth. Joe might be the rough diamond, but Ray was the well-educated sophisticated queen, and an odder couple you would never meet, even though they considered Harry and me an odd couple. The reason they were both here, was to take us straight up to Mareeba to the wedding breakfast arranged by George. Joe had arranged for two limousines to take mum and Harry’s parents home, so as soon as we had loaded them into their cars, we loaded Joe’s special van, set up for Ray to drive, and headed up the mountain. Ray drove all the way, as he loves the freedom of driving, and Joe; always the indulgent husband, just beamed his satisfaction at his driving skills. Joe had converted the van himself in his spare time, and made sure it was a perfect fit for Ray, and included his every whim and fancy. It truly looked like the cockpit of a modern jet, buttons and flashing lights everywhere. It had the most modern and up-to-date MP3 player; in car video system, rear parking/reverse video as well as a front bumper advisory warning device. A split system front and rear air-conditioning system kept the van at a constant temperature. Joe had fitted a hydraulic platform to the side door to allow Ray to enter in his wheel chair. The front driver’s seat was missing, and Rays chair locked into special fittings in the floor. It was a top of the range Toyota Tarago that seated 8 in absolute luxury. The trip took around an hour, and we arrived at 7.30am. George was waiting for us, breakfast ready and waiting in a ‘Ban Marie’ out on the patio in the rear garden.
After a few tears from George and his new houseboy, the valet from the last party, we settled down to a delicious breakfast of croissants, fresh tropical fruits, Champagne and orange juice and Papua New Guinean Highland coffee. There was also eggs any way you wanted them, cooked fresh to order, bacon on demand, steak and sausages, toast, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes and sautéed potatoes. A feast fit for a newly married gay couple. George was all questions about the cruise, Canada, the wedding and our new friends. Joe and Ray were more curious than George as to the wedding and what was required. I had the feeling they were already making their own plans. George was most interested in the cruise, as he had decided it was just the thing for him and his new houseboy, to develop a stronger relationship. At around 11am, Harry and I excused ourselves and headed for our room, this time in the main house; the houseboy showed us up. We had a room overlooking the pool. It was a big room, as big as the first suit we had in Toronto. It had its own bathroom, a small sitting area, and a king sized bed. We were worn out from the flight, so we decided to just lie together quietly and fall asleep. The party was tonight, so we had plenty of time.
I awoke first, and lay there looking at my new married partner. He looked so innocent and beautiful, his tanned skin showing the white outlines of his underwear around his buttocks and cock. His wavy hair all tousled in sleep, his eyes closed, and his breathing slow and regular. I loved this man; I loved him so much it really did hurt, just as mum had said it would. It was my turn to shed a tear as I looked down on this gentle man, and I snuggled into his back and held him tight. He remained sleeping, and I could feel his body
moving to his breathing, his warmth, and his muscles fitting into my own body curve. I fell back to sleep with him in my embrace, and woke up again as he stirred He turned over and looked at me.
“Hi, you look so great when you wake up. I love the sleepy look on you. It is so sexy.” I smiled my wicked look, and started to lick him on his chest around his nipples and biting his ears. It took us only seconds to embrace and start our usual morning sexual encounter. Although it was almost a routine, we never tired of it, and gave us both much pleasure to have this routine available to us. We both worked in different spheres and times, so the mornings were becoming our one chance to be together on a regular basis. This time Harry took the dominant role, and I lay back and enjoyed being licked, bitten, tongued, sucked and fucked. Harry was becoming the experienced top man, and I enjoyed his occasional dominance. But he did prefer to be the passive partner, and my dominance over him was pleasurable and necessary to our partnership. In all respects, I was the man and he the woman in this coupling, and he wanted it that way. It gave him pleasure to serve me in every way.
After our energetic sexual workout, we showered together, and dried each other, then dressed for the party. George had asked us to dress in the outfits we were married in, and we obliged, only this time we dressed together. We were told not to come down till 8pm to allow all the guests to arrive from far and wide, and drinks were sent up for us. At 8pm sharp, we exited our room and headed for the patio. As we approached the patio glass doors, the wedding march struck up from a string quartet George had hired for the evening. We exited the doors, and a huge cheer went up. There were over 50 guests, most of whom we knew from the New Years Eve party. To the left of the door was a table laden with wedding gifts, and a huge wedding cake of 3 tiers. Round tables were set out on the lawns, each holding 6 guests. The pool had been closed off for now, although I knew it would be the focus of the entertainment later that night. George led us to the table at the head of the cluster, and this time, the houseboy sat with George as his partner. There were caterers, waiters, and cleaners and just about everything required making the night a success. George could never do things by half; it would ruin his reputation in the region for the classiest gay parties. George was a very rich man, but was also a very generous man if he liked you. He did not like fakes and hangers on, and you knew if you were invited more than once, he liked you and would be your friend through thick and thin.
The party, or should I say wedding breakfast, followed the tried and true traditional program. First the food, which of course was absolutely divine, then the speeches, which meant me getting up again, and finally the bridal waltz. When all was done, the traditional cutting of the cake was demanded, then the opening of the presents. Harry was the eager bunny here, ripping them open with gay abandon, and I was in charge of the cards, and writing what each person gave us, so we could thank them later. I was surprised at the variety and quality of the gifts. There were no cheap gifts here, and this showed the quality of George’s friends. One gift was just totally amazing. It was a gift voucher from a friend we had only met twice, but a business partner of George. The voucher was for a deposit on a home built by his company. His name was Gareth, and he owned a building company and had built George’s house ten years ago. All it said was ‘Pick a house from my range, and the land, deposit and legals’ are already paid.’ It was signed Gareth. In Cairns, that amounted to over $150,000. It just blew my mind, but Harry just accepted it as a generous gift.
“He can well afford it, and nobody to leave his wealth too. He is treating us like the family he doesn’t have.” We sought him out, and thanked him for the generous gift. He held us both,
“I only wish I had been able to do the same thing as you during my better years. Now it is too late for me, but for you two it is a beginning, and in time the world will accept us all for what we are. The world is changing, but I will not see it. Please enjoy this gift, as much as it does my giving it to you. May it give you peace and happiness?” Once again we thanked him, and promised to see him in his office the following Monday to go through plans with him.
Other presents included choices of furniture in some of the most exclusive interior decorators in Cairns, our choice of dinnerware, cutlery and cookware from Myers, and one I really did adore, was our choice of a pure bred Springer Spaniel from the next litter of one of the guests who was a breeder. The whole package of gifts was set in such a way as to fully equip us with the means to furnish and enjoy our new home to be. Obviously George had arranged it all, dishing out the list of presents to each guest as to his wealth or occupation. George would have it no other way, which I am sure of.
After the opening of the presents, we danced a little, then relaxed with George and his houseboy, Nick, and talked about Canada and the freedom we felt as gays. George was really interested, and so was Nick and I felt George was contemplating a similar trip with Nick as his partner. There seamed to be a bond between them, and I felt this bond was strong and getting stronger even though George was in his late 50’s and Nick in his late teens. Here again was evidence that age is no boundary to love. Although Nick wore a slave collar, and I could see his slave chains under his shirt, he gave out vibes that his love for his Master was more than slave and Master obedience. George too showed that in letting Nick join us as a guest and not as a slave boy, he too was softening to the lad. I wished them both well in their relationship.
It was party time, and the finery of the wedding outfits came off, and the slave and Master outfits appeared, the queens dressed down into their slutty drag, and the tops leathered up for their night of debauchery. The party was in full swing by 11pm, and the pool gate was unlocked. The exhibitionists dropped their finery and leapt into the pool naked. Playthings were brought out onto the patio and lawn and pool sex, leather sex, bondage and slavery were the order of the night. Harry and I opted for the naked sex in the pool and left the group to follow our preferred activity. A pop group was playing on a stage on the lawn, and when they saw the activities, decided to join in and stripped naked, much to the delight of the crowd. The lead guitarist was well hung too. Not sure if the extra sounds I heard coming from the drummer were intended or his nuts hitting the bass drum while he rocked away the night. The party was a riotous night of raw unadulterated sex and debauchery, fit for any queen of the gay scene. George had done us proud.
By 3am both Harry and I had drunk too much, smoked too much weed, and were wrinkled up by the pool water. It was time for us to head for the ‘bridal suit’ as George had put it, and so we said farewell to all our friends, who remained to party into the dawn’s early light, and headed off to our room. We were exhausted and very drunk, but could not have been happier. Life looked rosy for us and I hoped it would be that way forever.
Home Sweet Home
Harry and I made an appointment to see Gareth at his offices, and arrived at around 4pm. He showed us into the sales room where the plans of over 20 homes were shown on the walls. After we looked at each plan, we sat down, and discussed what we wanted in our home. We decided on a two storey, three bedrooms with two bathrooms, an office and a pool. Fairly basic, but the master bedroom was to be our retreat. It was to be large, with a sitting area attached, a dressing room and a large ensuite. The master bedroom would be upstairs, with all other rooms downstairs. Gareth played with the computer models, and came up with a wonderful design, incorporating all we wanted, and also included a family room off the kitchen area near the pool. The land offered was at the new Trinity Estate, or Forrest Gardens Estate and we said we would check them out and come back to him. After checking the land out the next weekend, we decided the Trinity Estate was our best option, and let Gareth know our decision.
The building commenced in February, after the holiday period, and would take an estimated 4 months to complete. The whole time was spent deciding on fittings, garden designs, furniture etc. It was a wonderful time. The completion was delayed, but we finally had a date to move in, in June. It was at this time th
e gift of a puppy from the Cocker Spaniel kennels was also due to be allowed away from the litter, and so after a hectic weekend of removals, late Sunday night, we went over to the kennels to pick out our puppy. We naturally picked the most boisterous one, and left for home, our new home, with our baby. We were to call her Elizabeth, after the Queen, Liz for short. The British royals developed the breed as hunting dogs, so it seamed fitting she have a royal name.
Harry and I settled into a happy married life, our own home, a mortgage, a dog and beautiful sex. Harry was the ever-doting lover, and I the rough and rugged partner. I finished my apprenticeship with Joe, and after 2 years, bought out a share of the business from him. Stanley still worked for us, and we had now taken on another apprentice. He too was just 18 when he joined us, and if he weren’t gay when he joined, he sure would be when he left. Joe took a liking too him, and he became Joe’s slave. Neither Stanley nor I ever touched him, although he had a great body. He had been one of the many guys who came to work on his car at Joe’s, and when he was leaving school, asked Joe for the apprenticeship. His name was Justin, but we called him Turbo, for obvious reasons.
Gay Mechanic: Can a gay man be a tradie Page 12
