Innocence Lost Paradise Found

Innocence Lost, Paradise Found Ch 04

Post War Reunion

This story is set near the end of the Age of American Innocence. —it is obviously a later chapter in the series. It would be very helpful if you at least skimmed the first chapters for character development and a feel for the times. It really is hard to imagine that gay sex has moved so quickly to where it is today. Open gay sex is relatively new—and still has uneven toleration, let alone acceptance. The notion of a prostate as a sexual organ was known to very few only a few years ago. The idea of same sex union is only a decade old. And almost no families (particularly Catholic and Fundamental Christian families) talked about any aspect of sex at all. All characters engaging in sexual activity are over 18. BD

The war changed many things in America. It was the beginning of the liberation of women from the home (they had "manned" the factories while the men went off to war); the dawn of the consumer era; the triumph of Exceptionalism (the idea that Americans were special—they had won the Great War, after all); the first use of an atomic weapon; the beginning of the cold war. But, one thing that did not change was America's continued self-delusion that sex was all about romance between and man and a woman—and the family they would create. Puritanical and Evangelical ideas about sexuality survived the war—were perhaps even strengthened by it.

Two young men, gay, but perhaps not entirely sure that a gay lifestyle was possible, returned from the war. They were battle scarred, had seen the terrible things that men could do to each other, and certainly they had lost their innocence. But, the war had also liberated them from their families—and the old ideas of those families.

The story of Finn, the Boston Irish "Celtic Viking," disguised as a poor farmhand/stonemason who had distinguished himself as one of the finest and most creative restoration builders in Europe and Andre, the rakish son of a large farm-owning family of French /Canadian stock continues after a three year interruption—after their burgeoningsecret and forbidden affair had been halted by war.....

The war ended with Germany's unconditional surrender. The first evidence of their atrocities against humankind were just coming to light—particularly their attempt to extinguish all Jews from the face of the earth. The US had brought an out-of-control military dictatorship in Japan to its knees with the most horrific bomb that the world had ever witnessed. American GIs were coming home—and most were very different people. Some like Andre were heroes—paratrooper/behind the scenes saboteurs s who had risked life and limb to stop the Nazi threat. Others like Finn had learned to flourish in keeping a society moving under the greatest aerial attack that the world had ever seen. But they all shared something: a desire to start a new life and be happy. To put the horror behind them. To set out to remake the world.

Back home, Andre's mother had died of an undiagnosed disease about a year before the war had ended. And Andre's father seemed to have given up the will to live with his wife's death. Brother-in-law Jacques had taken over the farm in all but name. He had not seen military service—no explanations were given. The farm was booming, producing "Food to Win the War." Suzanne had married. And after he mustered out, Andre discovered that his grandfather had left him some money—not a fortune, but enough to start again.

Both Andre and Finn were headed back home. But, things had changed. Finn was now qualified and confident—he had taken a job supervising the construction of some of the millions of new houses that the returning GIs wanted for a new life. The construction project was just west of Boston.

Andre was a decorated Captain with a shoulder full of medals and ribbons from France and the US. He was a genuine hero. He was immediately offered a "trophy" position in a Boston bank—due to his decorated service, his outstanding handsomeness and his Harvard pedigree. He accepted it rather than taking a role in the newly-forming intelligence service In Washington. He wanted time to think about his life—and continued intelligence service would doubtless condemn him to a life of anonymity. It would definitely preclude "blackmail-able" homosexuality in the notoriously homophobic world of Wild Bill Donovan. Maybe in a year or so, but he wanted to try a normal civilian life first. And he wondered whether there might still be a spark with Finn.

They had maintained some contact during the war, but it was minimal: A few letters without language that would tip the censors to their prior lives. Andre was in the war zone where every word was scrutinized and censored. They knew they were arriving in Boston within a week or two of each other. They had agreed to meet, but neither expected too much. Three years of war and experience had changed both.

Andre first had to check in at home. Early in the war, before his mother had died and the farm was booming, Coogan's place had come on the market. Raymond stretched, used all the nest egg and bought the adjacent farm, tripling his acreage. Jacques had moved to foreman on the farm as Raymond had faded. He and Andre's sister had moved to the homestead. Irene had taken over the house and had reported to Andre that Raymond was fading fast. But, that the farm was thriving.

Andre went to visit, stepping back in time. He was greeted with a small parade around the town green, listened to his praises sung by the mayor and been presented with the honorary key to the village. Ray was in in last days. So Andre stayed. A few days later, Ray handed over his last will. "You get everything, Andre. I'm leaving you a wonderful future." Andre thanked and embraced him.

"Thank you, papa. But you're going to get well. This won't happen for years. You're only 60. You've got many more years in front of you."

Ray smiled and his eyes closed. Two days later he passed away quietly in his sleep. Andre's second sister arrived with her family while Irene made all the arrangements. But there was tension all around about the impending changes. All of their lives were about to be changed. So Andre did not wait. After the funeral, he called everyone together in the formal parlor of the homestead.

"You are all aware of the will and its contents. He wasn't secret about his plans. Papa, bless his immortal soul, was an old-fashioned kind of guy. He never listened to what any of us were saying to him. But, God forgive me, I'm not going to respect his wishes. Here is what I propose. I will keep ownership of the farm as he wished. But, Irene and Jacques will stay in this house for so long as they are together. Jacques will manage the farm as he sees fit. He will be given a generous salary— a regular expense of operations. At the end of each year, if anything is left, I will get half—and Irene and Marie will each get a quarter. I'm going to have a lawyer write this up. I'm going back to Boston tomorrow. I trust you, Jacques, to do what is best for all of us. I hope that you and Irene can be happy here. Any questions?"

There was silence. Jacques was the first to stand and embrace Andre. Then his two sisters joined in with thank you's. Finally Irene said, "This is not a time for celebration. But we are nevertheless grateful, Andre. You have done the right thing—again. You will be welcome here anytime. We'll keep your room open for you. May God bless you with every happiness and success. May you live your dreams."

*******

Finally, the twice-postponed rendezvous was set for a Friday night in late summer after Andre returned to Boston from Noubois. With the war over, many Bostonians began again to escape to their unused "camps" on the Cape, the North Shore or even Maine. Downtown was deserted, this being the last official weekend of the summer. Finn arrived at the Union Street Oyster House and parked his "new"—used—car across the street. Andre had walked from his nearby apartment. He arrived first and commandeered a window booth. A few minutes later, Finn walked in and scanned the room. He almost didn't recognize his old friend.

Andre was not so surprised at Finn's appearance. He looked very much the same—the rosy blonde hair (just growing out of the military buzz), the wide intoxicating smile, the penetrating green eyes, the wide shoulders and the slim waist. All heads turned. He was a Boston Irish Adonis—every bit at home in the watering hole. Gone were his tattered farm and mason's clothes. He wore sharp black slacks, a pressed pale green linen button up shirt and a black leather Eisenhower with epaulets and the SeaBee patch he had earned in the war. Only out of place was the ancient soft mason's hat, worn well back on his head.

Andre stood and Finn's jaw dropped, then opened into the familiar wall-to-wall smile. Andre had changed. His hair was medium length with a nice wave—and slicked back; his chiseled, tanned face was now artfully manscaped with short black stubble covering his cheeks, upper lip and chin. He was definitely wider in the face and shoulder. And he too was dressed in an office shirt and a wool suit. He was a commanding presence, confident of his appearance, and perhaps just a little vain. He resembled, perhaps through careful grooming, a French film star, France's newest sex idol. Finn's cock stirred and chubbed.

Two boys had become men. And eye-catching men at that. They could be stage or screen actors for all the magnetism that emanated from each. Many eyes followed them as they greeted. Even those of some of the men at the bar, enjoying a last drink before heading home for the weekend.

Andre pulled Finn into an intense bro-hug, the kind that was duplicated so often among close friends who had managed to survive the war. "Finn it's good to see you. You look good enough to eat. It's been so long."

Finn responded in a whisper, "I didn't expect that on our first date. But, anything that turns you on, Andre, is fine with me." He laughed a little nervously. "May I join you?"

"If you don't, I'm going to jump you right here in front of everyone. It's been so long." They slid into the booth, ordered beers and a platter of oysters. The next half hour was a mix of catching up and seduction, using the sensuous oysters as props while hands roamed over thighs and covered crotches under the table. Each successive oyster was consumed with wide open lips, lots of tongue and sultry stares. It was one of those fantastic Tom Jones moments where food is foreplay. The sexual tension was pervasive. The heat they were giving off would have melted an iceberg. They were oblivious to the questioning glances of the others in the place. Their eyes never wandered from each other.

In less than an hour each had concluded that, despite years of tough experience and many partners, male and female, a deep passionate mutual fire still burned. Andre took the first step. "My apartment is only a few blocks. Shall we continue there?"

"If you're sure it won't get you in trouble. I'm ready. But, I'm told that Boston is not so tolerant as the worlds we left across the ocean. Will it be okay for you? Shall we take my car?"

"I'd rather walk, if you don't mind. My neighbors are really nosy. And a car driving up and parking in that neighborhood will surely attract attention. I'm hoping you'll spend the night. We can probably handle one visit if we're careful. Maybe we can even stretch it into tomorrow unless we're seen." They paid and walked the four blocks toward the residential neighborhood. It was old, very downtown and probably going to be demolished for the redevelopment because the houses were not "historical"—just a few blocks of triple-decker tenements set close together. In the heart of what would become government central. But, housing was scarce and expensive. And Andre did not plan on staying long so was unwilling to use any of his savings to supplement the low banker's earnings.

They walked slowly together with no obvious signs of affection until they reached the street where Andre had rented the third floor of the corner house. It was accessed by a staircase in the back alley—which served only his apartment. The alley was filled with trash cans, deserted and quiet. They were not apparently noticed. Once inside they embraced again and their lips touched—not the wild passion of impatient young cocksmen, but with the soft tenderness of past lovers reuniting again.

There was little furniture: a second hand couch in pea green, an old wooden table, two unmatched chairs and a bed in the adjacent small bedroom. Finn scanned the rooms and pulled his wild Irish full smile, "You'll have to give me your decorator's name. He's already done so much with this space." Andre broke away and opened a few windows, but it didn't do much to cool the warm space.

"Make yourself at home, Finn. My neighbor below went to the Cape for the weekend." Andre went to the small fridge which seemed to contain only beer. He handed a cold one to Finn, as pieces of clothing began to fly in the stuffy, hot space. Then they both stood, legs akimbo, naked in the dim dusk light and stared. They were so different, from each other and from before. A few scars marred the supple flesh. Yet each was a prize.

Andre had grown a light coat of black chest hair from which his always erect nipples peeked out from deep brown silver dollar aureoles and slab hard pecs. The hair was sparse below his sculpted chest, forming a nice trail down to his manscaped pubes. His waist was as narrow as ever, but thicker thighs supported a hard bubble butt with pronounced hand-hold dimples and a thick, eight inch hooded dick, no longer arching over the ball sacs, but pointing straight out at Finn. Muscled arms crossed below his chest, emphasizing the wide shoulders and deep vee. He was a classic Marine poster boy! America wants you, Andre!

Finn was already salivating with remembered contact with this man. He had first seen him as a naked young guy jerking on a rock below a waterfall—like some mythical Irish tempter. His hooded cock had hypnotized Finn instantly. The man standing before him was every bit as magical and beautiful.

Finn was as thin as he had been four years ago. But his upper body had developed with his continued labor. His hair had been buzzed, so the rosy curls were just beginning to reappear. His thinness and almost total lack of body hair exaggerated his cut abs, the deep Adonis belt and the threatening length of his erect cock, rising from the fiery curly bush. Andre had always thought him to be a modern day throwback to a Celtic Viking warrior. The offspring of some invading rapist. His mind too had flashed back to their first meeting when he was not even embarrassed to have been caught naked and jerking. And to the first time that Finn had touched him there and the second when he had swallowed it almost to the hilt.

There was heat in the air....not just the last heat of a summer setting sun. It was the heat of remembered passion. Andre moved to trap Finn at the back of the sofa. He took a step and reached to pull his lover to him. Flashes of remembered muscle memory seemed to light the room like heat lightning bouncing off the walls. Their mouths joined and tongues clashed as their chests collided and their dicks met and squirmed between their guts. Everything old was new again.

Perched on the back of the sofa, Finn's legs came up and circled Andre's waist as his arms held tight around his neck. As though he were leading a purposeful waltz, Andre slowly walked Finn back into his room. He carefully placed Finn on the mattress. Finn fell back, drawing Andre with him, pinned to the bed. The two began to slide together in their passionate sweat. Andre's rock hard cock slid easily along Finn's cleft. Musk filled the air. The sounds of intense need followed. Andre held Finn's head still as his tongue took possession of his mouth, then nipped his sensitive earlobes as Finn's arms circled Andrew's wide shoulders to keep him close.

Andre pulled back. "Are you okay with this. I need you Finn. I need to be inside. I only wish I could crawl inside and forget the last years. I've seen so much horror, loss and sadness. I'm not a virgin, by any means. I'd recapture the innocence we had if I could. I've taken many to bed, but none of them ever brought me the wonder of our time together. With many partners, I've dreamed I was with you."

"Me too. I need you. I too have seen the worst side of humanity. And I've taken pleasure where I could, but none of them were you, Andre. You are still my one and only. Enough. I'm about to explode. I need you in me. Now. Fuck me, Andre. Make love to me like the first time. Hard, fast and deep. Pound me, Andre. Fuck me to the other side of reality. Let's start again."

"Let me try. I've learned a few tricks." Andre reached over to the crate (side table) and pulled out lube and placed it near them. Then he raised Finn's legs, spread them and slipped into the vee. A lubed finger circled the rosy rim. Then he circled again, leaving it glistening and pulsing. A finger tip penetrated slowly. Finn was tight, really tight. Andre guessed he hadn't bottomed much in England. He pushed in and out a few times as Finn's ass rose to meet him. Finn was so hot. His hole was saying "no entry," but Finn was crying out to be fucked. Andre bent down and licked the entire cleft, circled the rim and teased inside. Finn groaned. Andre sucked while his tongue entered. Then it was two fingers and the prostate massage. A clear drop appeared at the slit which Andre quickly took with his tongue. Another finger was added and stroking began. Finn was alive with motion, leaking precum. "Fuck, I can't believe we're here together again. I'm so ready for you to fill me up with that huge cock. It's time, babe, put that monster in. My ass is hot, greased and ready. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

As Finn was whispering these words, Andre was moving his powerful glutes into position. Andre pulled back, positioned the head, then applied pressure. "Let me in, boy. You won't regret it. I'm gonna take you for a nice long bumpy ride." His hands went to the deep dimples in Finn's ass to steady him as Andre's cock plowed through the first ring and stopped. Finn moaned in contentment and maybe a little pain which quickly eased.

More pressure yielded another two inches as Andre touched the nut. Finn jolted and whispered, "Yeah, right there," as his massive stonemason's hands reached around to pull Andre's ass deeper into his gut.

Andre had dropped his anchor, so his hands could move. One teased Finn's nipple and the other ringed the base of the shaft and cradled the balls. Andre always believed in a three or four point erogenous attack. Conquer him before he even realizes he's already given it all up. Finn knew that Andre had learned to control as he shivered in submission. He was no longer the seduced apprentice. Finn was going to let Andre run this play. Andre repeatedly punched and scraped the prostate using his hood to the max. And each time Finn emitted a whimper, immediately followed by a contraction of his ring to hold the intruder in place where he produced the maximum pleasure. Finn was coloring as his freckles disappeared. His arousal was peaking. Finally, in a massive thrust, Andre bottomed but kept up the battering assault until Finn finally gave up his gut and Andre slipped past the second ring. Fluid released, lubing Andre's continued thrusts. Finn felt the depth and fullness and knew whose boy he was. No one had ever been so deep or owned him so totally. That dick was right where it was needed most.

Andre fell forward, catching Finn's calves, and folding him into the ultimate state of missionary submission. Chests met. Lips met. As Andre's powerful hips maintained the deep persistent thrusts which tapped the nut with every pass. Finn was throwing off heat and musk, signaling he was at the edge. But, Andre owned him and his release. He loosened the hold on Finn's dick. And pressed on the taint to feel the pulsing spunk rushing from his balls up the shaft. Andre stiffened his stance, raising his knees from the bedding to maximize the pressure and the depth of his penetration. Then his autonomic muscles took over. Thrust after automatic thrust, accompanied by spasm after intense spasm, shot ropes of cum deep inside, filling, seeding and claiming Finn as his own. And feeling the first blast, Finn felt the orgasm rise deep in his pelvis as he let loose and covered their guts and chests with his creamy cum.