Their journey together started off simply enough. Edward rode on the horse he had acquired from the stable for a good price – though depleting his cash reserves a bit in the process – complete with saddle and leather bags across the back. There was even a holder for a longrifle, though he had none. He periodically took his hat off and pushed his long, black hair backwards out of his face. The morning sun, with its early warmth, was promising a decidedly hot afternoon for the travelers.
Charles busied himself with leading the team of horses on foot. With a short tug on the bridle of the lead horse, the wagon, heavily weighed down with provisions for starting a new farm in the wilderness of Ohio country, gave an initial lurch as all six horses put their full strength into their task. Soon the wagon began to move smoothly down the street.
In a very short time they were out of the town and onto a narrow track leading west towards Harrisburg. Civilization receded as the forest enveloped them. The two men looked at one another and smiled silently, each glad to be on their way and away from the town of Lancaster. Both breathed in the fresh air, unencumbered by humanity’s taint, and gloried in the scents and varied greens and textures of the raw forest.
They were not, however, the only ones on the road. Periodically they would pass a rider or even a wagon or two headed back toward Lancaster. Charles enquired about the road’s condition ahead, and was pleased to hear they should expect no difficulties all the way to the next town.
The next few hours were spent in periods of companionable silence interspersed with times of friendly banter as the two travelers got to know each other better. At one point, satisfied the horses would keep a steady, plodding pace without constant guidance, Charles pulled out the side board from under the wagon just in front of the rear wheels, and sat upon on it, while Edward rode his horse alongside him as they talked. Charles would occasionally give a slight tug on the long, leather reins attached to the lead horse, shouting out “gee” or “haw” to keep the wagon on the sparsely graveled road.
With each mile traversed by the turning wagon wheels through the white pine, hemlock and oak trees filling the forest around them, Edward felt the satisfaction he had enjoyed while farming in Ireland returning, and the man beside him had no small role in the return of his spirits, long dormant after all he had endured. He enjoyed conversing with Charles, as well as the comfortable silences that are an inevitable and sometimes most welcome reality over a long journey.
Lunch came and went, two sandwiches Charles had the inn’s cook prepare for him, one of which he shared with Edward, while Edward watered the horses, showing Charles a trick – learned years ago on his farm – which made it easier to accomplish the task.
“Just a few hours’ travel and you’ve already taught me a piece. Keep that up and I won’t let you go when we reach Ohio.” Charles laughed but down deep realized he really did not want to see the back of his companion and it made him a bit sad to think Edward might decide to take his leave and head further west, or worse, decide to take up residence at some locale prior to reaching Ohio.
“Thank you for sharing your sandwich with me. You didn’t have to,” said Edward, enjoying the rich taste of the sliced beef and spring tomato.
“Fair is fair, knowledge for lunch.” After the exchange, Edward watched Charles finish the task of caring for the team and realized he had thousands of such nuggets of information to share with Charles. The present situation reminded him of the countless days, months and years his father had patiently labored with Edward to teach him the finer points of successful farming. When your family’s very life depended upon earning a living off the land, you had to know what you were doing.
The evening found them stopped beside the trail, campfire lit and a pot of stew from the inn hanging from a spit and warming. After they ate, Edward and Charles pulled out a feeding trough and fed the horses two at a time, fetching water in a wooden bucket for each of them from the nearby stream. They fell into an easy and efficient rhythm of working together, like parts of a well-oiled machine.
Charles had the first watch while Edward slept on the wagon. The blaze of brilliant stars studding the night sky – visible through the gaps in the canopy of leaves sheltering the travelers – kept Charles and his thoughts company until it was time to wake Edward and change places.
The next few days of travel followed a similar pattern of waking, traveling and sleeping. They did meet several people heading from Pittsburgh, making their way to Lancaster or Philadelphia, and exchanged news. The two learned an outfit had recently built a river crossing raft, large enough for a wagon and its team, and were in the business of providing passage to the Ohio side of the river. Or they could build their own raft and once across, could either use or sell the wood.
The two men decided to look over the options of how to cross the river when they arrived at the new frontier town, but both were leaning towards just paying for passage and not having to deal with making their own raft. Edward was confident his joinery skills were such that he could build a substantial raft, but did they want to spend the time or make the effort when they could pay to traverse the river and reach the land grant sooner?
They arrived in Harrisburg late in the evening of their third day together, both eager for a hot meal and a warm bed. The nights were still cool in that part of the country. Charles went in search of lodging for the men, while Edward drove the wagon to the local stables to bed the horses for the night.
As he approached the barn-like structure, he heard voices raised coming from just behind the open entrance. Stopping the team, Edward debated whether or not to wait out the heated conversation and try not to eavesdrop, or simply interrupt as if he was unaware. He opted for the later, as his stomach was grumbling and Charles had asked him to hurry if he could.
Walking up to the door, Edward heard the sharp crack of a leather strap and then the stifled cry of pain from someone inside. Without thinking, he quickly stepped around the large door into the lighted interior of the barn, and was shocked by what he saw.
A large, sweaty man in simple but dirty clothes, most likely the stable keeper, had a long leather razor strap in his hands, his eyes on the now naked backside of a young man bent over a stack of hay bales. There was a large red stripe across the lad’s buttocks which he was rubbing furiously with one hand, while trying to quickly wipe his tears with the other.
Seeing Edward, the older man, nodded. “Be with you right shortly, sir. Got some tendin’ to do here first. Git yer hand back, boy, lessen you want t’finish your chores with jes the other one.” The young man, who appeared to be a strong bodied lad of 16 or better, reluctantly pulled his hand away from its feeble attempt to shield his exposed posterior to the terror of the strap.
As the strap cracked two more times, causing the young man to jump and cry out against the sting, Edward couldn’t help but remember the last time his own father had laid into him in like manner back in the barn of the old Ireland farm. He had forgotten to close the chicken coop door again, and their prize rooster had escaped along with a dozen or more of their best laying hens. By nightfall, they had rounded up all the hens but one. The rooster was never seen again.
He had never seen his father as angry as he was that night, and like the lad before him now, he was stripped down and his backside strapped until he feared he wouldn’t survive the ordeal. After it was all over, and he had pulled up his breeches, wincing as the fabric scraped across the raised welts, his father had looked him in the eye, and in a soft and kind voice simply said, “I love you, Edward. I only want the best for you. But what you did endangered our family’s welfare, son. Don’t ever let it happen again.” Edward’s heart ached in remembrance of that special moment now.
He watched as the stable keeper hung the strap on a hook on the barn wall while the young man turned to pull up his cotton trousers. Edward couldn’t help but notice that despite the obvious pain of his recent affliction, the young man was also more than slightly aroused. Edward remembered his own curiosity at experiencing much the same phenomenon after his father had disciplined him at that age.
Wiping his tears, and only shyly glancing at Edward and then quickly looking away, he spoke. “Pa…I’m sorry I disrespected you by not finishin’ my work. It won’t happen agin.”
“Come here, boy,” his father said. The young man held his head up and stood before his father. “You’re a good man, Thaddeus. Someday you’ll be a father and then you’ll understand. If a man don’t work, he don’t eat, and his children don’t eat, either. Now…go on in and git yer supper, and we’ll finish the chores together later.”
“Thanks, Pa,” said the young man as he hugged his father tightly, then turned to walk across the stable yard towards a small log house situated behind the stables. Edward noticed he walked very carefully, probably trying to minimize the rubbing against his abused backside.
“What kin I do ya for?” asked the stable keeper of Edward.
“I’d like to stable my horses for the night, along with my wagon.”
“Sure, sure. Let’s see ‘em and I’ll help ya get ‘em unhitched,” said the man, and together he and Edward made fairly quick work of disconnecting the team from the wagon and agreeing on a price for care of the horses.
As he walked back towards the tavern where he was to meet Charles, Edward couldn’t get the erotic image of the young man’s nakedness bent over the hay bale out of his mind. It kept mixing together with the vision of his fellow coach rider being happily buggered in the stable at their first stop. Why did he keep thinking about such things? And why on earth was he getting excited again in the remembrance of them? He could feel the tingle in his groin that usually preceded the lengthening and hardening of his member. He had to work hard to keep his stalk from going completely stiff before he met anyone.
Finally shaking the bothersome but intriguing thoughts free, along with the dust off of his shoes, Edward entered the noisy tavern and after a few moments’ searching through the teeming crowd of boisterous revelers, found Charles seated at a table for two near the fire, with two pints on the table in front of him.
“All went well at the stable then? Horses and wagon tended?” asked Charles.
“Aye. All set for the night. I’ll settle up with him in the morning,” said Edward, absentmindedly looking around the room. A waitress dressed in an apron over simple cotton clothes approached, pushing her hair from her sweaty face.
The two men ordered a basic meal of pot roast and boiled potatoes and onions, which was served to them on tin plates. Edward was quiet during dinner, and Charles wisely decided to let him be. It had been a long day, and even he at that moment wanted nothing more than a warm bed with a soft pillow to curl up in for the night.
As they finished their second pint of ale, Charles looked across at his travelling companion. “You know, you don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” replied Edward.
“Settle up for the horses. They’re my obligation, not yours,” said Charles kindly.
“Aye, but I’ll pull my own weight on this journey. As long as we travel together, I insist on paying my share of the expense.” Charles nodded respectfully.
“As you wish, sir. What say you to repairing to our room? I’ve secured us two beds and a washbasin in a room upstairs near the back. Hopefully it won’t be too noisy and we can both get a sound sleep.”
“Lead the way, my good man,” said Edward, eager to put the long day behind him. He followed Charles through the crowd to a back hallway and up a long flight of creaking wooden stairs to a hallway covered in a shabby carpeting which had faded from red to grayish pink. Charles opened the door to their room with a black skeleton key he pulled from his pocket, and held it open for Edward to enter.
It was four plain walls, two single beds with coverlets on opposite sides of the room, and a rough wooden table upon which rested a large ceramic bowl and water pitcher. There was a stack of cotton towels on one of the beds for washing. In the far wall, across from the door, there was a single, plain glass window unfettered with curtains, allowing the light of the full moon outside to stream in. They would hardly have need of the large lit candle they were given by the proprietor downstairs due to the moonlight splashing into the room.
Setting the candle down on the table, Edward noticed his case was on one bed, while Charles’ was on the other. He immediately opened it and pulled out his normal green nightshirt. It would be nice to sleep in it again, after two nights in his trousers. He removed his shoes and socks, his feet enjoying the coolness of the tile floor, and set them under the bed. He then removed his over shirt and the plain cotton one underneath. It was none too clean after three days and its aroma was noticeable, though one from honest labor. A wash would serve him well.
Over by his bed, Charles busied himself with similar preparations. He, too, was in need of washing, and did his best to ignore Edward, mentally chastising himself for ever fancying the idea Edward would be interested in him in any way other than as a friend. He certainly had given no such indication.
Down to just his breeches, Edward set about pouring water from the pitcher into the bowl and wetting a smaller towel, then rubbing it all over his head, face, and chest. In the moonlight, his muscular torso glistened with moisture from the towel as his body rejoiced in the cooling effects. Charles couldn’t help himself and just watched the masculine sight in front of him.
“There’s another towel here for you. Help yourself,” said Edward, oblivious to the effect he was having on Charles, who was at that moment holding his overshirt in front of his waist in the hopes his physical excitement was hidden from Edward’s purview. It suddenly felt like there was not enough oxygen in the room, his chest striving to breathe under the heavy weight of the hormonal rush coursing through him.
Edward turned to him in the moonlight. “Would you mind washing my back with this? I can’t reach high enough,” he asked, offering his freshly wetted towel to his roommate. Charles swallowed hard, unable to speak, and simply nodded, taking the proffered towel in one hand while desperately holding up his shirt with the other. As Edward turned around again to present his back, Charles lifted a shaking hand and willed it to do the requested task.
Closing his eyes and letting his hand slowly follow the contours of Edward’s muscled back, Charles wondered why he was so overwhelmed and uncharacteristically nervous about being almost naked with another man. It wasn’t like this was his first time. It wasn’t like anything overtly sexual was going to happen. Was it?
Edward had his eyes closed, too, as he was remembering the last time his wife had washed his back while he soaked in the big cast iron tub in the back room of their small home while his wee daughter slept. He remembered the light in her eyes and the playful way she had splashed water in his face. It was so long ago. He remembered, too, what they had done together immediately after his bath and was suddenly aware of his body betraying his thoughts of sexual excitement. He was grateful his back was to Charles.
For his part, Charles had forgotten his own tumescence and had gotten lost in the haze of barely bridled lust for the man in front of him, the man upon whom he now had his hands, washing his naked flesh. He tossed his overshirt onto the bed and used both hands to massage Edward’s back and shoulders with the wet towel. Edward was making no attempt to stop him, so he continued his ministrations in the moonlight.
“Let me do your back, now,” said Edward in a husky voice. A chill ran through Charles at the thought of Edward touching him. He feared he would lose all control for sure. Saying nothing, he turned to face the wall, pulling his undershirt over his head and tossing it aside. He heard Edward dipping his towel into the water and soon felt the tentative touch of his fingertips upon his own flesh.
Edward marveled at the complex muscle mass adorning the man’s back in front of him. They fairly rippled in the dim light, not an ounce of fat on them, developed over years of carrying heavy loads through rough terrain on his many military campaigns. He didn’t know it yet, but they had been honed to hold a rifle rock steady while galloping full bore on a horse, no easy feat. As his fingers ran over the ridges as he slowly moved further down Charles’ back, he felt his physical excitement increasing. He was now uncomfortably hard in his confining breeches.
Charles was aware of only one thing – his need. His need for physical companionship, long denied, and at the same time his need to not offend his friend Edward with his personal desires. The two needs warred mightily within him as he basked in the glory of Edward’s firm touch. Just as he felt the towel slide down upon the small of his back, Charles made a decision.
He reached down and unfastened his breeches, holding them up for a second, then ever so slowly allowing them to slide down, gradually revealing his naked backside to Edward. Once to his knees, Charles let them go, and they puddled around his feet. He held his breath and hoped he had made the right choice.
The washing motion of the towel against his back stopped. There was an electric silence in the moonlit room. True silence, as neither man was breathing now. Charles felt the towel being pulled from the small of his back, and he feared he had erred badly. He heard Edward drop the towel into the water, and assumed he would leave it there for Charles to finish his bathing by his own hand.
Edward’s hands were trembling, causing little ripples in the water as he rinsed the towel and soaked it again, finally wringing it carefully so as to not wet the table or floor. Then he turned back to the naked man before him, a sight he had never beheld up close. His eyes were riveted on the cleft dividing the man’s legs, fascinated by the curves and shape of Charles’ arse in a way he didn’t understand, something he had never pondered before tonight.
He touched it. Without thinking, he simply laid his hand near the top of the left mound and held it there, as he began to kneel down on his haunches. When he was eye level, he finally remembered to breathe again, and quickly resumed the task of washing Charles’ backside. He was not intentionally being sensual in his movements, it being more an exploration of the heretofore unknown. But the more he touched, the more he didn’t want to stop touching. At some point his left hand had moved on its own, holding one half of Charles’ arse under his palm, while the other hand completed the cleansing ritual. He finished by slowly running the towel down the divide, his fingers intentionally drifting inward slightly.
Unbeknownst to Edward, Charles had nearly passed out from the combination of not breathing and the sudden outflow of blood from his head to his member, which now stood out from his body more rigid than a blacksmith’s hammer. Edward’s tentative touch upon his arse was more than he’d hoped for, and even if he stopped now, Charles would at least know he had not offended the man with his bold display. That would be some consolation.
But Edward didn’t stop. Charles heard him withdraw to rinse the towel, then felt his hand again upon his arse as he knelt down on his knees, washing first one leg, and then the other. As each finger ran against his flesh, exciting nerve endings he didn’t know he had, Charles fought back the moans of desires threatening to erupt from his throat. Moving upwards, Edward once again grazed his arse with his fingertips.
Emboldened by increasing desire, Charles carefully placed his right foot a little more to the side so as to separate his legs more, hoping Edward saw the move as an invitation to wash up a little higher on his legs. For his part, Edward did not hesitate, but gently washed the inner thighs of the man now standing over him. He had a brief thought of venturing higher but stopped himself, his hands shaking again from fear and something else which surprised him – pure lust.
He slowly stood up and Charles stepped carefully out of his breeches fully, pushing them aside with his foot. Then he slowly turned around to face Edward in the moonlight beaming through the window. “By God, he’s beautiful,” thought Charles.
Edward put his shoulders back and looked straight ahead into Charles’ eyes, aware that he was now face to face with a fully naked man. He willed Charles to not look down and see how excited he was by what he had done. He felt the heat of momentary shame rise against his face and neck, but he didn’t bow his head. Yes, he had touched another man. Yes, it excited him. Why, he had no idea.
Charles took matters into his own hands, motioning for Edward to turn around and face the wall, while he picked up the towel he had used on Edward’s back earlier and rewet it. He began massaging Edward’s back again, in long powerful strokes up and down the center, and stretching the shoulders outwards, causing his tension filled muscles to finally relax.
Edward was at a crossroads. In a few moments Charles was going to run out of back to wash, and then what? Would it be all over? He didn’t even know what “it” was, this thing happening to him. He was feeling things he hadn’t felt with anyone but Adeline, yet…Charles…being with him…like this…had awakened those desires again, and as perplexing as it was, Edward knew he didn’t want them to go to sleep again. He simply had no idea what to do with his surging desires now.
His only thought was to do as Charles did, to follow his lead. He seemed to understand what was happening. So he unfastened his breeches, and taking a deep breath, let them fall to the floor. He was left suddenly naked before another man for the first time in his adult life. Despite his uncertainty in what he was doing, he was absolutely certain of one thing – he had never been harder in his entire life.
He heard Charles make a small gasp, then quickly turn to rinse out the towel. There were a few tenuous moments as neither one moved. It was as if they both knew if this continued one minute longer it was going to take them places they may neither have intended.
Charles reached across the space between Edward and him with twitching finger tips, and carefully rested them upon the glorious unclothed arse before him. Never had he seen such a magnificent male form as this. Forged in the kiln of hard work and a hard life, Edward’s body was masculine perfection. Charles almost hadn’t wanted to touch him, for fear he would somehow tarnish the sculpted Adonis. Almost. But then his own desire persuaded him to continue washing Edward’s backside, as Edward had done for him.
Charles did not hurry, but savored each delicious, sensuous moment. He purposely allowed his fingers to graze the groove between the two hemispheres before him, knowing the sensations it would cause, and smiling to himself when he heard Edward make little gasps of pleasure as his nerves twitched over and over again.
After rinsing the towel again, Charles moved down to wash Edward’s legs, and this time he nearly chuckled when he realized Edward had purposely widened his stance while Charles’ back had been turned. Moving slowly upwards, he paid special attention to the inner thighs, and just at the top, he extended his fingertips slightly and felt some soft flesh brush against them. Edward emitted a tiny yelp, but didn’t move. Charles repeated the same moves on the other leg, eliciting a similar response. In just the dim moonlight, Charles could see the red flush of excitement all over Edward’s body.
Charles carefully stood up, accidentally allowing his organ to briefly touch Edward’s arse as he turned to put the used dirty towels into the washbasin. When he turned back, Edward had not moved. He was still facing the wall. Charles had a good idea the source of his hesitation.
“Edward,” he whispered. “You may turn around. It’s okay.” He was met with silence. “Edward?”
“I…can’t. Not…yet.” Charles tried not to laugh.
“Aye, you can. Look…you’re not the only one.” Edward didn’t move for a few seconds, then slowly turned his head partially around to peek. Charles stepped to the side to give him a better view of his quite obviously excited and throbbing state. Edward gasped and turned back to face the wall in front of him.
Charles decided to wait him out. Edward’s reticence was actually turning him on even more. He didn’t have to wait long. Within a minute, curiosity and simple lust drove Edward to turn around, his hands clenching and unclenching as his mind fought against his natural instinct to cover his nakedness. Charles just looked at him in awe.
The fact was Edward was not the first naked man Charles had beheld in such a state. In fact, there had been more than he could count over the years. But this man – this god before him – was beyond his imaginations.
Charles took one step closer to Edward and stopped, noticing him look down at Charles’ erect manhood and then quickly back up to his face. Charles waited. Edward took one small step and stopped. Charles let him wait a few seconds, then took a confident step closer. There was no more than two feet between them now.
One more step from Edward, and they could feel the heat from each other’s overly excited bodies. Charles’ nostrils flared at the primal scent of two men in a state of sexual need. He closed the gap completely. They were now face to face, their manhoods almost touching. Edward felt a drop of liquid emerge from his member. He wanted to look, but kept his visage on Charles’ face, looking for him – no, needing him – to lead.
Charles reached up and caressed Edward’s shoulder, letting his hand run down his arm, squeezing the bicep in admiration, then allowing his fingertips to graze his forearm and stop. He grabbed onto Edward’s hand and held it firmly and did not let go. Edward nodded slightly, approving.
Charles nodded back, and Edward slowly, hesitantly at first, then more boldly, repeated the move with Charles’ opposite arm, finally holding on to his hand. He was trembling, with fear and raw desire. Charles squeezed his hands and pulled them together even closer. This time their members did touch, and they both breathed in quickly, then smiled at each other.
Edward started to look down, but Charles let go with one hand and gently pulled his head up by the chin, looking him deep in the eyes. He leaned in closer to Edward’s face, his desire unmistakable.
Edward knew Charles wanted to kiss him. Another man was about to kiss him, unless he put a stop to it. But the truth was, he didn’t want to. He wanted it to happen. He didn’t know why, nor did he really understand all that he was feeling in the moment.
Edward closed his eyes as Charles’ lips touched his in a whisper. At first he felt nothing, the other sensations coursing through his body short circuiting any new inputs. But as the pressure on his lips increased, a spark ignited inside Edward, and he felt himself involuntarily lean into the kiss. He suddenly felt Charles’ tongue graze his lower lip, and without thinking really, Edward opened his mouth slightly, an invitation to a passionate invasion.
As their tongues explored, Edward felt little electrical pulses run up and down his spine, yet another new sensation to catalog. Charles was still holding his one hand, and now placed Edward’s hand firmly upon his own chest, while simultaneously doing likewise, never breaking the kiss.
When Charles lightly grazed his nipple, Edward moaned loudly into his mouth, the sound garbled by the kissing, but its meaning unmistakable. Edward followed suit, and soon Charles was moaning and gyrating his hips, causing his member to rub up against Edward’s rigid pole.
Needing fresh air to breathe, Charles pulled back and broke the kiss, leaving the two men panting and shaking. He took two steps backwards, gently pulling Edward’s hand with him, until he felt the bed behind him upon which he sat down, inviting Edward to follow suit.
For the next glorious hour or so, Edward learned what the feel of another man’s hands on his body could mean. Charles was patient, guiding him silently in the moonlight cascading through the window to the highest heights of male on male passion. Hands explored virgin terrain, touched and stroked foreign flesh, until they reached their ultimate release.