Weeend in the Country

Bill looked at the bank of screens in his office. Some had a newsfeed, one had a stock forum, some had live stock charts. He rocked back on his leather chair, dragged off his black-rimmed glasses and dropped them on the desk. Then raising his hands, grinding the palms into his closed eyes. He had made some good trades today, made money. Now the markets were closed, he could finish off the paperwork. It was Friday and his week had ended.

"Bugger me, what a fucking day!" he cursed to himself. Meaning his time had been busy but good. He is Australian, and while he had perfect manners, he also had a vibrant, colorful vocabulary when it was appropriate. Had it been a bad day he probably would have said words to the effect "Well fuck me, what a cunt of a day!"

He stretched his arms high and arched his back, holding the stretch for a time. Back to the computers, in turn, he switched them off, tidying the desk, so all things were in their correct place. Not that things got too far out of place with Bill, he is very well organized, in all ways.

He pushed back on his chair; it rolled across the dark timber flooring. He took a moment to gaze out at the tall gum trees and ferns; that was his view. The land fell away down to the valley below. It was a peaceful view. His eyes lingered on the trees for a few moments. It was a good way to wind down, for the intense focus, needed with his day trading of the markets. He dealt in big stocks, with big money and daydreaming during trading was not to be recommended.

Shaking himself away from his contemplations, he got up and meandered toward the bathroom. The master bathroom had an enormous window looking outside into ferns and bushland. The shower recess is against part of the window. As he showered, he could gaze at the view, until the heat of the water, steamed the view out of vision. He enjoyed his life, especially the sensual things.

The running water, flowing over his body relaxed him, sending him into a peaceful reverie as he contemplated what might be. He smiled a little as he was thinking about the redhead. The amazing color of hair, not carrot red but deep, dark red. His cock began to react slightly at the thought.

Recently, he had gone to a seminar about gold. He was given the ticket, VIP ticket for the front row. He had followed Marc Faber for years on his gold report. Not because he agreed with what he said, mostly he disagreed. It was a chance to get up close and personal as a 'vip' person to Faber. Mostly for no good reason, but because a bit of a heckle is fun and 'vip' people get questions answered.

After the show was over, he turned to go, when he noticed a face he recognized. Both saw each other at the same time, reaching out offering the other an enthusiastic handshake. "I'll be damned, John how are you mate?" They had been work colleagues, in another time and place, a few years earlier.

They resolved to have a drink together at the pub, next door to the lecture hall. It was still early even though Bill had a two-hour drive back to his home. They caught up with a little of each other's news and made another arrangement to have a longer session together. Bill suggested John come up one Friday night and spend a day or two in the bush and relax. There were a couple of spare rooms from which to choose.

Bill toweled himself dry and wandered back to his room. He had a large walk in wardrobe, all the clothing and shoes, organized neatly in order. He selected a dark blue pair of Armani jeans and fine wool navy polo top. As Bill looked at himself in the mirror, he was happy enough with what he saw.

Tall and slim with dark well-cut hair, slightly greying at the temples, bright blue eyes, clean shaven. Bill was careful with what he ate, as his job was mostly sedentary, it is easy to get a bit of weight on at his age. Thinking that John must be about 35 years old now, probably about 15 years his junior.

He pulled out some cologne and sprayed a light spray onto his chest, rubbing it off the chest hair onto his skin. Dressing and sliding into a pair of light leather house shoes, then combing back his hair.

Moving back to the kitchen, he checked the time, thinking about getting dinner started. He had prepared most of it earlier. In a large open baking dish, there was a long rack of lamb with foil covering the bones, to avoid burning them, a mass of cubed root vegetables, and some fresh rosemary from the garden sprinkled over the top.

He got out the honey and drizzled some over the meat and then squeezed the juice out of half an orange over the lot. Smelled great now and it will smell even better cooking. The beans were ready for a quick blanching later on, and the white chocolate panna cotta was in the fridge next to the hulled blackberries. He slapped his hands together and congratulated himself on having it all done.

John was due any time, but the meal would go into the oven a bit later. It would only take three-quarters of an hour to cook; there was time before hand for wine. He had selected a local Pinot Noir to start. As he was choosing the glasses, Bill heard the crunching of tyres on the driveway and went to greet his guest. It was still daylight which made finding the place, in among the thickly wooded trees and ferns, a little easier.

There was a warm greeting as the two men met again. Once inside, after the overnight bag had been stowed away, in the spare bedroom, they became deeply immersed in conversations, with things they had discovered of mutual interest.

The dinner cooking, with the aromas of roasting lamb and fresh rosemary, tantalized their appetites. The meal and wine were consumed as such a meal should, with a full appreciation of the flavors and textures. The wine had enhanced the experience of the food.

They discussed the merits of various whiskies; Bill asked if John might like to try some boutique Tasmanian single malt whisky. John hadn't tried it and was interested. Bill asked "Neat?" "Certainly. Back in a minute." the younger man got up and walked to the guestroom.

Bill poured the whisky into heavy cut crystal glasses and set them on the black, red flecked marble kitchen counter top. It was an island kitchen, all black cabinets, and appliances. One side led to the dining room and lounge area the far side was facing the entrance and main body of the house. The house was long and built in the scale of the golden ratio. Math was one of Bill's passions, so a home designed for a math ratio was a given.

Bill decided to risk screwing the evening, he lifted up onto the kitchen bench, waiting for John's return. He had a feeling his instincts were right, now he was going to test them. John ambled back in and looked up amused at Bill perched up on the kitchen bench top, holding out a crystal glass to him. Bill held the glass quite close to himself; it meant John had to come in close.

The two men's eyes met and stayed gazing. John remained close. Bill reached out and held the back of the young man's head. He pulled John into his open legs where he sat on the bench, Bill leaned down, and they kissed. First gently then deeply with passion, each feeling the welling up of desire in the embrace.

The older man kept firm hold of the other's head. Their lips and tongues entwined in a violent passion, eyes tightly closed. Eventually, Bill sunk his fingers into the silken hair and dragged the head away from himself. Their eyes looking back at each other, an honest carnality, remained.

With his other hand, he picked up the glass he had set back down and gave it to John, at the same time releasing the young man's hair. Bill slid off the counter top, took his drink and guided John back to the lounging area, one arm around his waist. They sat closely together, John's head resting on Bill's shoulder. They sipped their whisky, both savoring the whisky and the night.

Bill would turn to kiss the young man's face, and stroke his hair occasionally, as they sat together quietly. They finished their whisky, another was offered but refused with thanks.

Bill whispered, "Coming?" He got a gentle nod in response. He took the two glasses to the sink and rinsed them and set them down. Holding out his hand, for it to be joining another.

The older man led the way to his bedroom, flicking the light on, flooding the room with a radiating glow of soft, hidden light. Bill was taller than John as they stood together facing each other. Slowly John was undressed. His clothes folded carefully and placed on a chair. There was no mad, rushing passion; it was a slow savor.

Wanting John with him, as he undressed, Bill led him naked into the wardrobe space; he watched as Bill undressed and returned his clothes to their places. Turning back to face each other, the two naked men embraced, both feeling the arousal of the other. Bill gave a shuddering moan as he led John back into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and let John slide in between them. He went to the other side of the bed and slid in close and began stroking the young man over his body.

Kissing mouths and faces, holding on to each other tightly. Bill breaking away from the embrace to roll the young man over onto his front gently, he sat up and began stroking down the length of John's back, long loving strokes, leaning in to kiss the back and neck. He moved his hands down John's back until he reached the cheeks. Smoothing and caressing them, squeezing into them and releasing.

His thumb teased the young man's hole. The fondling made John whimper. Bill leaned over and retrieved some gel and smoothed it over his engorged cock, and over his companion's anus. Kneeling up, he dragged John into a kneeling position in front of him, slipping his cock deep inside. Both men were releasing deep moans at the penetration. Bill began slowly, gently as he moved in and out of his lover. Intensity increasing with each penetration, he gripped the young man's hips as he fucked him. Then leaning lightly on top of John, balancing himself on one arm, he reached around and gripped John's cock firmly.

His penetration slowed to barely moving, enough to keep him at total arousal as he rubbed the swollen cock. The young man was moaning loudly, almost whimpering. It had taken only moments before his seed pumped out onto the white, damask sheets. His orgasmic moaning and spasms were enough to send Bill's cock into spasms of ejaculation inside his young friend.

Bill hugged his arms around John's waist, holding him firmly. Eventually, they slumped onto the bed, finished, content.

John left for the bathroom, on his return, Bill was looking well pleased with himself and said. "I would offer you a cigarette if I had any." John shook his head grinning, and slipped back under the covers. Bill flicked the lights off with the remote. He rolled back and held his companion close until they both fell into sleep.

The early morning sun flooded into the bedroom falling over John's hair. Bill reached over to it and began stroking into the soft strands of his amazing deep, dark red hair. The older man lifted up onto an elbow, to give his lover a kiss.