Memories of Easters Past

Twenty-three years had passed since the four men, seated in pairs on facing sofas before the rough stone fireplace, last spent an Easter weekend together at the house in western Pennsylvania's Laurel Highlands. They'd been back separately and together on many occasions, but never until now on an Easter weekend.

Friday night was occupied with arrivals and catching up. They spent most of the current day outdoors, where they all loved to be. The neighbors, if people living in a house nearly a quarter of a mile away could be called neighbors, had horses which they were happy to loan out. As the sun set, the horses were returned to their stable. Cleaned up and with drinks at hand, working together, the four men fell back into an old habit of working as a team, and prepared the sumptuous dinner they'd just enjoyed. Sated by the excellent food and wine, and made even more comfortable by the after-dinner drinks they were now enjoying fireside in the home's comfortable den, where they'd spent so many hours when they were young, the long-time friends began to reminisce.

"Do you remember Church?" Tony D'Marco asked no one in particular as he stopped to snuff out a candle on a table near the windows overlooking the wide, forest-framed lawn, which seemed to roll down the hillside. Tony, a 19-year-old majoring in musical production at Carnegie Mellon University when they all met, was now VP of artists and repertoire for a major recording label.

"Ha! Yeah, I remember Church," Brad Baird exclaimed. Brad, along with Peter Cruz, who sat beside him with Brad's arm over his shoulders, owned the country house at which Tony and Rob Pasco were spending the Easter weekend. That was Peter's idea," he added.

The two men, nearly lifelong best friends, lovers, and life partners for almost that long, had been business partners for the past eighteen years at a Pittsburgh-based field robotics company that was currently developing robotic vehicles for deep-space exploration.

Looking from Brad to Peter, Tony recalled, "When you suggested that waking up in sleeping bags out on the back lawn at dawn Easter morning with the sun rising over the hills would be like caterpillars being reborn as butterflies, as stoned as we were, it sounded cool and beautiful, and reasonable."

"That's right! I totally forgot about that!" exclaimed Rob, a 21-year-old freshman at the University of Pittsburgh, known when they all met for his ability to throw together an instant party, who now owned popular clubs in Washington and Los Angeles. "He said we would be reborn on Easter like butterflies!"

"Sounded better than being reborn as a common Fairy, to me, at the time," Tony injected, deadpan seriously. "Remember, I was still straight then," he added, looking up at Rob, in whose lap his head rested.

"Let's not get nostalgic and think about your heterosexuality or doing Church again!" Brad replied, equally seriously. "Face it, guys, Peter, Rob, and I will all be 44 this year, and Tony will be 42. If Easter were in July, maybe doing Church again might be fun, but if we're going to pretend to be butterflies being born by the sun tomorrow morning, at our age, we should do it between expensive sheets in our east-facing bedrooms."

"You're right. It's too bad, though." Rob admitted. "Speaking of back then, I know I met Tony and Peter while working at Macy's during Christmas, but I've never been sure when during that fall we met, not that it really matters."

"It was October, 2003," Peter offered. "Brad and I graduated from MIT in June that year and returned to Pittsburgh. Brad began studying for his Master's at Carnegie Mellon in September. You, Tony, and I met when we all got part-time Christmas jobs at Macy's in October. Then I introduced you both to Bradley. I'm certain of this because Brad inherited this house from his grandmother in February, 2004. That was the year we came up here for Easter weekend and did Church."

"It doesn't seem like that long ago," Tony said to no one in particular, thinking back over the years to when they were all met. During most of high school and through college, he was the lead singer of a popular band that played throughout the Mid-Atlantic and Midwestern regions. Looking at Rob, he said, "You were living with Charlie then and just started at Pitt when we met."

Remembering out loud more than speaking to anyone in particular, Rob agreed. "I was. Charlie and I met in New York when I was 19. I was living there, and he was spending a lot of time in the city, working with a New York law firm on a federal tax case. Six months later, on his forty-fourth birthday, he asked me to move in with him in Pittsburgh."

"Brad, you and Peter met before MIT, right?" Rob asked.

Brad was still looking at the once gorgeous boy, now handsome man, who was his everything since they were hardly old enough to be out alone after dark. He was about to speak when Peter spoke up before he could.

"You guys know our anniversary always falls around Easter," Peter explained. "What you don't know is that we were in love for almost our whole lives before we realized it. Bradley's better at remembering details, so he can tell the story while I get refills. Everybody happy with the same drink?" When everyone made affirmative noises, Peter collected the glasses and went off to the bar to refill them. As he did that, Brad began to speak.

"Peter and I grew up together. We lived in the same neighborhood. He was already my best friend by the time we were old enough to enter school. As young boys, we were both scrawny kids, all arms and legs. But by the time we became teenagers, our bodies had changed dramatically. We filled out, got taller, developed muscles, and, well, we were both athletic and sort of hot. Girls noticed us," Brad said, smiling.

Brad continued, getting up to help Peter carry the refilled glasses back to the low table between the sofas.

"I had no idea that I might like guys, but by around 13, I began to feel agitated, not sexually agitated, just tense, when Peter went away on vacation with his family and wasn't around for a week or longer. Then, when Peter walked into my fourteenth birthday party, cleaned up and dressed in slacks and a polo shirt, and smiled at me across the room, it was like someone flicked a switch and the whole place lit up. The sight of him took my breath away. For the first time, I thought, he's beautiful. I never thought that about Peter or any boy before then. That was the moment I suddenly wondered, what was that about? Brad said seriously, looking at the guy he married.

"I'd been thinking that about Brad for months by then," Peter cut in. "How hot he was. Remember, we'd grown up together as best friends. We played on two school teams. One was the swimming team. Neither of us had to imagine what was under the other's clothes."

"Even though Peter was beautiful, there was nothing girlish about him. He was a jock. Some people thought he was rough. I liked that about him. And, he was smart; we both were. You know this, or we wouldn't have gone to MIT and be doing what we do. That turned me on about him, too," Brad laughed.

"We got through high school with no problems at all. There was no reason for us to have problems. We were best friends. Everyone knew that. What no one knew, including both of us, was that we were both beating off pretty much every day while thinking about each other. Despite how we both felt, neither of us said anything about his feelings. It was both of us getting into MIT that finally brought us out to each other."

Peter spoke up. "We both turned 18 during the summer following our high school graduation. Because of the high cost of dorm housing, our folks let us room together off campus in Boston. It was a trek to school, but we dealt with it. Spring Break and Easter coincided during our first year. Paying for our apartment left no cash for things like jetting off to Florida to party, so we hung around Boston."

"The pressure had been building within me, and I learned later, within Peter too, for months. On Saturday of Easter weekend, I was lying on my bed reading when Peter came in and climbed onto the bed beside me," Brad explained.

"I turned my head and looked at him, but I didn't say anything. Then he turned onto his side, and as he looked down at me, I looked up. Neither of us said anything for what seemed like forever. Then he said, 'I love you, Brad.' Four words that exploded my mind and sent my heart racing," Brad smiled.

"I couldn't believe it. My heart was pounding. I didn't know whether to shout with joy, just grab him and rip his clothes off, say something romantic, or what?" Brad admitted almost bashfully.

"And I didn't know what he was going to do; jump off the bed, lean up and hit me, or lift his face and kiss me, which was what I hoped he'd do," Peter laughed. "But, he just lay there looking at me, so I figured, go for it."

"I was still on my back when Peter got up, stood at the foot of the bed, kicked off his sneakers, dropped and kicked off his jeans, and pulled his sweater over his head. With the wickedest grin, he fell back onto the bed on his belly between my wide spread legs," Brad said, looking right at his partner as he spoke. "When I leaned up on my elbows and saw Peter's chin nestled comfortably in the inverted V of my thighs against my still jeans-covered balls, my also still denim-covered boner extending down my right thigh throbbed against his cheek. Peter's wicked smile and sparkling brown eyes, framed by his muscular shoulders with the tight white cotton of his boxer briefs hugging the half-moon curves of his upturned butt cheeks just barely visible behind his messed-up hair, was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

"Leaning up on my elbows, I looked down at Peter and finally managed to speak." Looking into his husband's eyes, Brad asked, " Do you remember the first thing I said, after you told me you loved me, when you were lying between my legs?"

"You think I'll ever forget? Your cock was so hard against my cheek under your jeans as you said, 'I've loved you since we were six years old.' How could I ever forget that?" Peter asked, cocking his head slightly as he smiled.

"Then he began to slide silently up my body in the most seductively provocative way until he was on top of me," Brad continued. "As my arms wrapped around him and closed around his strong back, his arms encircled my neck. Our lips touched lightly, parted, then touched again more possessively. He leaned back, and we gazed into each other's eyes. We kissed again and let our tongues explore each other's mouths with our eyes open.

"Peter was holding my face, with his so close that the tip of his nose was touching mine. Slowly, emphatically, whispering each word as if it were its own entire language, and me hearing them as if they were thundering through the Grand Canyon, Peter again said he loved me.

"He stayed on top, holding my face in his hands, kissing it all over. Then he rolled us over, and I climbed on top. Peter's eager lips parted to let my tongue explore, and explore it did, shyly at first, tracing his lips, then more forcefully, probing, thrusting. My hard, still jeans-covered cock humping against his equally hard but only thin cotton-covered dick.

"We played at that for a while until I thrust my tongue deep into Peter's mouth. That's when our arms encircled each other. What began as gentle, even playful kisses, became more passionate. We pulled apart for a second, then all the suppressed desire and passion within us erupted, and we both reached down almost simultaneously. Peter fumbled with my belt for a few seconds, then finally loosened it and popped my jeans open. We both slid my jeans and boxer briefs down off my hips, then Peter yanked them off my legs in one hard tug as I pulled my shirt off. As soon as I was naked, I tossed Peter onto his back and pulled his boxer briefs off his hips, up his long, muscular legs, and off his feet by the waistband.

"Leaving Peter's warm, welcoming lips, mine traveled to his left ear, where they nibbled, and the tip of my tongue probed and tickled. Not content with just an ear, my mouth kissed and nibbled its way down the side of Peter's neck to his collarbone. I feasted there for a time, then I licked and kissed my way under Peter's chin and up to his lips again, and tongue fucked his mouth. God, how I loved to thrust my tongue between Peter's full, pliant lips and duel with his delightful tongue!

"I could have done that all night, but no, not while Peter's small, hard, deep ruby red nipples waited begging for my lips at the tips of my lover's firm, well-defined pecs. Smiling, looking up into Peter's glistening brown eyes as he rested up on his elbows, panting with his mouth open, looking down into mine, waiting for what he knew was about to happen. Then it did. When I kissed, licked, and nibbled my way along the ridge of Peter's hard right pec to his quivering little male tit, took it between my lips and while looking directly into his sexy brown eyes clamped my teeth down on its rigid little teat, Peter's back arced as tightly as an archer's bow and his hard leaking dick thrust up into my waiting fist."

"I was about to lick my way across Peter's chest to his delicious nipple's mate when he rolled me off and climbed on top," Brad continued, looking directly into his partner's brown eyes. "Reaching down, Peter cupped my balls, closing his fingers lightly around my nuts, holding them gently as the heat of my long, thick, cut, and throbbingly hard cock warmed and rubbed against his wrist and forearm.

"Smiling, looking into Peter's hypnotic eyes, I placed my hands on his shoulders and gently guided him down onto his back as I lifted myself and climbed between his spreading legs. When Peter pursed his lips as if he was about to speak, I lifted my right index finger to my own smiling lips, indicating that he should be silent, and simply said, 'Shush.'

"I didn't waste any time kissing Peter's belly or tongue tracing his well-defined abs that popped when he lifted up on his elbows as he was then, so he could look down his body and watch what I was doing. We'd both been waiting long enough to be alone like this and able to do what I was about to do in comfort on a bed without worry about someone catching us. While my eyes remained fixed on my boyfriend's, my lips moved down to the base of his super hard cock where the underside of its shaft merged into his ball sack.

"Peter's cock was so hot against my lips. I lay still between his wide spread legs with my chin in his balls, and my lips pressed firmly against the base of the underside of his steel-hard cockshaft, looking up into his eyes for a moment or two. Then, with Peter looking back down at me with his lips parted, sucking in breath, I could tell by his rising and falling pecs, I slowly began to kiss and lick my way up the length of the underside of his big dick, wiggling my body up between his legs as I did, our eyes never parting, until my lips slid over the tip of his cock's big leaking head and I sucked it into my mouth.

"Peter sat straight up on that bed and held my head while I, who had as little experience at cock sucking as Peter did, really, sucked his cock like the most experienced dick licker on the East Coast. I bobbed and twirled my mouth up and down my boyfriend's big dick for what seemed like hours. We both liked to edge, so I took him there over and over, giggling, and drooling, like a slutty girl with Peter's cock in my throat as I listened to him gasping and groaning and begging me to let him cum time and time again when I took him right to the edge, then backed him off again.

"Eventually, when I knew Peter was almost pleasure-tranced, I left his cock and began to kiss and suck on his already tightened ball sack, lifting off only occasionally to take a breath, then dipping down again to trace each of his clearly defined testicles with the tip of my tongue. We arranged ourselves into a sixty-nine position, and when I opened my mouth wide and carefully sucked in one of Peter's big balls, his warm, moist mouth tenderly sucked in one of my own big cum producing nuts. We lost ourselves for a time in tenderly kissing, licking, and sucking on each other's nuts, almost as if we were hoping to make them work doubly hard.

"Peter's warm, satiny smooth, yet delightfully rough tongue slid slowly up over my sack onto the underside of my shaft at its base just as I gently lifted Peter's rigid cock to my lips to lick the stream of precum off of its tip. As Peter slowly dragged his tongue up the length of my cock, I tongue-polished the head of Peter's dick.

"We were so into sucking each other's cock that I lost track of where I was on the bed and suddenly felt myself sliding slowly off the edge of the mattress with my arms wrapped around Peter's muscular butt and his big cock down my throat. As my body slid over the edge, I realized I had no idea which edge I was falling off of. Rather than panic, I swung around and landed on my feet, turning Peter onto his back on the bed as I did with my cock still buried deep down his throat.

"Standing at the foot of the bed, I had the incredibly erotic sight of my muscular jock boyfriend spread out on his back on the bed, stroking his big, hard, leaking cock as I slowly fucked his gagging, drooling mouth. Peter's eyes were open, and he was looking up at me from beneath my swing balls. He looked so fucking hot. I couldn't help myself, I reached down and pulled his fist off his cock, then climbed up onto the bed on my knees and dove down on his beautiful dick.

"I have to cut in here," Peter, who had been pretty much quiet throughout Brad's narrative of their Easter Weekend coming out story, interrupted his lover.

"All my limited sexual experience up to then had been with girls, so I'd always been the 'aggressor,' the guy 'in charge,' so to speak. Being with Brad as a sexual equal, with both of us handling and tossing each other around on the bed, at this point, and being in a sixty-nine position with each other's cocks down our throats, for the first time was mind-blowingly fantastic!"

"Yeah, fucking over the top, buddy!" Brad threw his arm around his partner's neck, pulled him close, and kissed his lips. "And I remember every second of it."

Then, looking into Peter's eyes, he continued.

"We were rolling around, alternating top and bottom positions, when I got comfortable on the bottom, sucking on your dangling balls for a time. As I was alternately sucking on your cock and balls, and kissing and nibbling at the inside of your thighs, a whiff of your scent drifted up from under your ballsack. That's when I rolled you onto your back and, swinging around, wiggled my face under your sack as my hands lifted your thighs. I don't know why, it just seemed like the right, natural thing to do. Looking up over your body into your eyes, I rolled you onto your shoulders and began to kiss and lick down your taint from behind your balls to your small, almost hairless, clenching, puckering, flower bud-like asshole."

Smiling at Peter, Brad added, "I kissed your tender little virgin asshole and began to tickle it with the tip of my tongue. Just like I still do." Then he winked.

"Having his asshole tongue whipped made my usually calm and in control boyfriend become the needy young sexual beast he really was. Peter's hands flew to my head, and his fingers wove through my hair. He rolled even further back, trying to force his needy asshole up against my teasing tongue. His soft, sensual moans suddenly became the loud groans and grunts of an eighteen-year-old male desperate to be fucked.

"Lying on the bed on my belly with my forearms across the undersides of Peter's thighs, holding them back and to the sides of his rippled abs, with my eyes firmly locked on his as my lips encircled and kissed his tight pucker, with the tip of my tongue wiggling against its soft, pliant folds, we had reached another level.