Revival with "Firebird" - 1. Chapter 1

Up to the present day it had been by far the hottest day of this summer. The sun burned mercilessly on the grasslands from a steel-blue sky and one could see the air vibrating with the naked eye. Only a tiny whisp of wind was able to mitigate the oppressive heat by a mere fraction.

Not a single sound could be heard, not even the buzzing of a bumblebee or the singing of a bird. There was only silence as if all living creatures had found a cool spot in the shadows to escape the brutal temperatures.

But a person with very keen hearing might pick up a peculiar sound that could not be associated with animals. It was a low panting, so every now and then punctuated with a stifled low moan. If this person happened to be inquisitive as well, he might decide to take a look at the spot where the sounds came from, only to be confronted with a spectacle that was considered outrageously immoral, sinful, unlawful and by all means inacceptable in those days, an odd fifty years ago.

Because he would find two boys, both about sixteen or seventeen and stark naked, their clothes in disorderly heaps a few feet away from them.

A skinny black-haired boy lay on his belly in the grass while another equally skinny but blond-haired boy was on top of him. The thrusting movements from his hips could only mean they were engrossed in a very contemptible act, both full of youthful lust and not aware of anything that was around them. And they seemed to enjoy every second of it.

These rhythmic movements continued for a while but suddenly the blond-haired boy stretched his torso to the fullest possible extent, threw his head in his neck and started to shudder like a leaf in a violent thunderstorm. The shuddering remained for maybe a few minutes, then he relaxed and collapsed with a loud moan on top on the black-haired boy where they ended up in an intimate embrace, putting a kiss on the other’s neck.

For a long time, they remained in this embrace. So every now and then soft murmuring could be heard as if words were exchanged in a low whisper. Only then they rose, dressed themselves and started the walk home.

On their way back to their village they had their hands clasped and kept totally silent, both absorbed in reliving and digesting the recent experiences of the afternoon, exchanging meaningful glances while doing so.

Their hands only separated once they reached the outer limits of the village.

Mario shuffled to the desk in the living room, sat down and cranked up his laptop. His shuffling was not caused by old age, he was hardly sixty-seven, but after battling his way through cancer his body was exhausted and needed a long time to recover. This made everything a hard job, even simple walking.

Once he was logged in, he put his cursor on the icon of his most favorite gay chat platform. Why shouldn’t he? Since his long-time dearly loved friend and partner had died about five years ago he had been on his own, apart from his dog that is. He never really considered a new relationship but the last months had made him acutely aware of his own mortality and his mood started to shift. Maybe it was a good idea to find a new friend for some kind of liaison to sweeten his last years. Although he had no idea how many years that would be. Nobody does!

The lovely thing about gay chat sites is that they are totally anonymous. You say things to perfect strangers that you wouldn’t say at work or in the pub or where ever in real life. You mention something intimate to a person, of whom you have no idea how he looks like, and he answers it in an equally intimate way without recognizing his chat partner if he saw him in the supermarket next day.

But, on the other hand, there are chats and there are chats. Some of them were extremely brief, especially since Mario didn’t appreciate single word messages like “Sex?” or “Fuck?”. Others took a little longer, but the real chemistry failed and it stayed with only that one chat. Some chat partners were worthy of more contacts than only one, because he was in doubt if there was mutuality and common grounds, eventually only to turn out to be a beautiful but surreal dream. But so every now and then there were the little pearls, that resulted in a long and repeated chat contact or even into a virtual friendship.

That was the way it developed with a man, who used the nick name “Firebird.” Mario couldn’t really explain it but from their first chat on he felt a commonality. And with the rapid growth of the number of chats he had the strong idea they were soul mates. They were looking for the same thing: not the hard, raw sex but tenderness, respect and a sweet togetherness to enjoy each other’s bodies. Even apart from this erotic side, they could have been brothers, so close together were both their ways of thinking on a large diversity of topics. That the single picture in his profile showed a very attractive man as well was more and more an added benefit only.

Mario found his way of thinking, his feelings and his ability in expressing this in words more attractive than the perfect body of a Mister World.

After all this chatting it became inevitable that they agreed to meet up and look each other in the eyes.

On the agreed Saturday afternoon he made the two hours-drive to the address in some village in the country. He felt a little apprehensive. He was fully aware that, even after all those long chats, part of them into nighttime, it might turn into a disappointment so he tried to prepare himself mentally for that as well. He was a relative newcomer on these sites but he had learned fast. It had happened before he had to drive back home to no avail after having driven the same road with high hopes before.

After some searching around in the town he found himself in front of a normal house with a well maintained little garden in front of it and he rang the doorbell. He waited a bit tensed: on these chat sites fakers were a fact of life!

But no: no faker this time! The door opened and a kind voice said:

“Ah, there you are!”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit delayed. I had to find my way around here.”

“No problem,” “Firebird” said, “You`re here, that’s the most important thing.”

Mario looked at him and his mouth fell open in amazement. And it was not only his mouth that dropped!

“Eric O’Connell!” he exclaimed,

“Mario Bottanelli!” “Firebird” called out, holding his breath.

“Impossible!” Mario muttered, “How long has this been?”

“Well,” Eric said with a pensive smile, “I guess about… fifty years.”

He had to be right! Eric and Mario were classmates in the third, fourth and fifth years of high school. They became close friends, but Mario had to admit that initially this friendship was not totally voluntary. Both were considered as the class’s outcasts: Eric was the typical nerd and Mario…? He had always been the silent dreamer, who attempted to take his first steps on the wobbly road of prose and poetry and who had no talent at all to impress a girl by inventing a striking and fast attack that would ultimately lead to a guaranteed ultimate scoring in sports. Dreamer or not: he always found it amusing to see how his class mates enjoyed reading the short stories he wrote for the school newspaper under an AKA and always had a good laugh over his teacher cartoons, that also ended up in the same newspaper, however under another AKA with nobody knowing who made these things in the first place. Being both outcasts they just teamed up with one another for mutual support and became friends out of necessity.

The funny thing was that during their friendship Mario found out that Eric was not a nerd at all and he started looking at him with different eyes, actually with totally different eyes. When they went swimming together during the summer months, he had a hard time to keep his eyes off him and even a harder time to hide a sudden erection. He fell in love with him but Eric showed no reaction at all. So Mario decided to drop the matter. He had no intention to jeopardize their friendship for a silly love.

The friendship had an unexpected added bonus for Mario: Eric was a genius in mathematics. He himself was clearly not: when he saw a collection of x’s and y’s his forehead got wet with cold perspiration. And so it happened one day that they walked home after school, Mario with a deep frown of concern on his face. He had bad feelings about the mathematics test the next day.

“Man,” Eric laughed joyful, “You look depressed today. What’s eating you?”

Mario nodded despondently and sighed:

“Would you be happy if you know up front you’ve got another bad grade coming up.”

“Ahhh, the test you mean?” Eric asked with a broad smile.

A single depressed nod was the only reply.

“Come on,” Eric tried to cheer his pal up, “That’s just a piece of cake!”

“Might be for you,” Mario said gloomy, making fully clear that his encouragement had fallen on deaf ears, “For me it is another small disaster.”

“Shall I help you out?” Eric asked, “Explain it all over again?”

Mario considered the offer: it couldn’t harm. Maybe the dime would fall and if not… well, at least he had done everything he could to make it through the test. So he nodded in approval.

“It’s a beautiful afternoon.” Eric said determined, “Let’s go home, take the books, grab some soda and go to a nice quiet spot in the grasslands and I’ll explain it to you over there!”

About forty-five minutes later they were in the grasslands and Eric started an attempt to explain the nebulous world of mathematics. Mario could have told him it would be a laborious process but he didn’t. The prospect of being alone with him was too seducing for him. Eric had explained a formula but his friend only looked at it in despair and asked a question which must have been totally silly to him:

“But… what do I have to do with this little digit 2 above the y?”

“That means you have to raise it to a square,” Eric answered cheerfully.

“But how can I raise a y to a square?” Mario yelled almost desperate.

“Let’s say, the y is a 4,” Eric made another attempt, “so you raise the 4 to a square which is 16. That is exactly the same.”

“But… why don’t they just put a 4 there then?” the next most foolish question possible came.

Now even Eric got discouraged. He took off his glasses, looked at Mario and said:

“It seems to me that you are totally incapable of abstract thinking.”

“Is that bad?” Mario asked softly, looking into the boy’s eyes. They were gorgeous, a grey-green shade of color that looked like the ocean under a clear blue sky. And they looked in a way he was unable to comprehend with his common sense but he felt very well what was meant with his heart.

“No, it isn’t. You just think in another way!” Eric whispered. His hand reached out and a finger stroke softly over Mario’s neck. Next, he bowed over, his mouth half open, and kissed him full on the lips. His tongue was pushed in an eager mouth, searching for the other tongue. Mario didn’t resist, but just received the tongue with pounding heart.

After that kiss Eric kept staring at Mario with this strange but oh so beautiful look in his gleaming eyes. He took him by the hand, pushed him on his back on the ground and lay next to him. For a moment Mario was in doubt but then he just gave in, he simply surrendered.

Eric put his head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear:

“Did you really think I didn’t notice how you looked at me?”

Mario blushed and felt enormously ashamed and embarrassed. Eric just laughed a bit and continued in his low whisper:

“But sweetie…. you clearly never noticed that I looked to you as well!”

“No!” Mario giggled nervous and uncertain.

“That’s what happens if you don’t look around, sweet little dreamer!” was the reply.

No, it was certainly not nagging, it sounded incredibly sweet. And to emphasize his loving intentions Eric started to kiss him vigorously.

Mario felt how the boy’s hand slid over his t-shirt from breast to belly. Ending at the hem it slid under the texture and moved up again over the skin. It paused at the hardening nipples, causing a strange but wonderful tingling over the whole of Mario’s body. Then, the fingers continued their exploration and started to stroke over the belly in lazy circles.

Eric kept kissing, but apparently his hand was no longer satisfied with its excursion so far. It went down, undid Mario’s trousers belt and closure and slid over his undies. He felt how the fingers softly clutched around his aroused dick and how they delicately kneaded his balls. He heard Eric moan softly with pleasure,

To be honest: he felt more or less overwhelmed and he was at a loss what to do. He finally got what he dreamed of for so long but was in serious doubt what to do himself. Should he just enjoy the stroking hand or should he take a more active part and push his hand in the other boy’s jeans? He’d loved to but lacked the courage to take that step.

Before he figured it out and had made up his mind Eric’s hand went in his undies and he experienced the tickling of the fingertips over his dickhead.

“Mmmmmmm…. you’re all damp, sweetheart,” he heard Eric groan in delight, “I got to do something about that.”

He gave Mario another hot, fiery kiss and rose. Clearly not counting on any objections or struggling he simply pulled the jeans off Mario’s body, followed seconds later by his undies. He pushed the t-shirt up so that Mario was lying more or less naked on the grass before his wanting eyes. Mario decided on the spot to take care of the t-shirt himself: he pulled it over his head and threw it away without looking where it landed.

“Oh man… that looks delicious!” Eric cooed with excitement, licking his lips.

Mario longed for his fingers to play with it, sliding up and down the shaft, to tease it or no matter what would thrill him to the extreme. But green as he was, he had no idea at all what that something else might be.

Eric clearly had ideas. He jumped up and hurriedly undressed, until he stood completely naked on the grass. Mario marveled at the breathtaking sight. He noticed how the skin around the lovely dick was completely smooth and blank whereas he himself had a considerable black tuft of hair around it. But he loved Eric’s lack of pubic hair and decided to shave his off as soon as he had the chance.

Eric sat, his young soft buttocks just inches from Mario’s face, his legs astride of the boy’s head. His fully aroused and softly dripping dick didn’t even manage the distance of an inch towards Mario’s lips.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asked with a sultry panting sound.

“Yeeahhhhhh,” Mario moaned in reply.

He wondered what he had to do but intuitively he felt it was the right thing to do to open his mouth. With some aiming Eric placed his dickhead right between his lips, bowed over and took his cock between his lips with his tongue immediately stroking the small pee slit. Then he started to suck it furiously.

“Oh, that way!” it went through Mario’s head. So he copied it and started to suck as well, cautiously at first but increasing it very fast to a level where it seemed as if his life depended on it. Never before had he tasted the pre cum of another boy but immediately became addicted to the flavor. He felt how Eric pushed his finger slowly and carefully in his asshole. He never knew that this part was so sensitive to erotic stimuli but it sent shivers of desire along his spine right away. And then the real big bang still had to come!

But it didn’t come, at least not for Eric. Suddenly he cried out, almost panicky:

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”

Mario stopped, afraid he had done something wrong or even hurt the boy:

“What did I do wrong?” he stuttered.

Eric shook his head and breathless he said:

“Nothing. But I was about to cum. And I didn’t want to cum yet.”

“Why not?” Mario wanted to know, surprised by the answer.

“Because, sweet little dreamer, I’ve got other things in mind for that.”

He grinned, his eyes burning and said:

“Turn over on your belly!”

Mario did as was told. Once his belly was tickled by the blades of grass and maybe some ant here and there Eric asked:

“You’re comfortable?”

He nodded in confirmation.

Then, without another word, Eric mounted him and started his deflowering.

Initially it hurt but then Mario experienced a feeling he had never known before. He knew right away this was the feeling he had been waiting for and he would crave for it time after time after time.

Being on his belly he had no way to observe Eric while he was mating with him. But his imagination made him envision the boy while pushing in and drawing out and again and again, his light blond hair flashing in the bright sun while doing so. It caused Mario to drift into a pink haze of delight.

And only then Eric’s explosion came, deep inside him.

Mario’s eruption followed in a split second with blot after blot moistening the dry grass with tiny drops of white fluid.

He felt how Eric almost crashed down on him and how his hands grasped both his shoulders. Then that tender kiss in his neck came.

It took a while before both were able to speak

“I wanted to do this with you for so long,” Eric sighed with a blissful smile, his grey-green eyes almost burning feverishly when he said it.

“Oooohhhh,” Mario was just able to stammer, “This was so wonderful! We have to do it more often!”

“Mmmmmm, sounds good,” Eric whispered, “I’ll be happy to oblige, sweetie!”

But the repeat never came, because destiny struck! Shortly after their first erotic encounter Mario’s parents decided to move up north into another state. It cut all practical possibilities for a further connection between the two of them.

And then both went their own ways and they lost sight of one another completely. During the first months Mario had fond and warm memories about the afternoon in the grasslands but with the passing of time even these subsided into the large black area of almost forgotten memories.

Until this afternoon! Both needed time to get over their astonishment. Then Mario observed the other man, noticing that the once beautiful blond hair had become a kind of sand color-like ashy grey. But the eyes? The eyes were still as fierce and beautiful as they had been in the old days.

Eric studied him as well and finally chuckled:

“Well, not much left of your beautiful black hair.”

“No,” Mario grinned, “it has gone a long time ago.”

“Come on in.” Eric said jovially, “You want coffee or tea?”

“The same to me.” was the answer, “Whatever you take.”

It turned out to be coffee. Once they were seated with the coffee a long and awkward silence fell, both visibly searching to find words that would close a fifty years gap. Eric found them as first:

“I thought about you so often. I knew damned well that chances were very slim but I really hoped that I would find you again.”

Mario just laughed shyly, not knowing what to answer.

“Did you think about me?” Eric asked softly.

In a split second Mario decided to give him an honest answer and said:

“In the beginning yes. But it just faded away over time and I forgot you. And there came other men in my life. Until a few minutes ago, when it all came back like an avalanche.”

Somewhat embarrassed he added:

“Do you mind? Are you angry with me now?”

“No,” Eric laughed, “it would be silly to wait for me without any hope of seeing me again. As a matter of fact: it’s not just silly, but plain dumb!”

Once the conversation started it was to be expected that it initially turned to talking over how each of their lives had gone after they lost sight of each other. There were many similarities but there was an important difference as well: when Mario’s partner had died after thirty-six years together. Eric’s ex-lover, although already in his fifties, decided one fateful day that a boy of just over twenty was more to his liking, packed his things and said his goodbyes.

“Good thing he lived with me and that the house was on my name.” the man grumbled bitter, “If it had been the other way around, the bastard woulsd have kicked me out on the street.”

Then he sighed, smiled and continued:

“Let’s talk about more cheerful things!”

But once the conversation changed, it faltered as well. Words became rare, interspersed with silences that became increasingly longer. So every now and then one of them glanced at the other, only to drop his eyes in embarrassment if he found out the other was doing the same thing. Both grappled furiously to keep their feelings under control while an almost juvenile erotic tension developed between the two of them.

It was Eric who gave in to his feelings as first. He coughed and almost stuttering he mumbled:

“What… eeeuuhh… what… are we… going to do? Have another coffee and playing dumb or… are we…well, you know… are we going upstairs?”

Mario took a deep breath of relief and hissed:

“I thought you would never ask!”

“You could have suggested it yourself.” Eric grinned.

“Hey… ,“ was the reply, “I’m just a guest in this house. Can’t invite myself into your bedroom.”

Once in the bedroom Eric confessed:

“You know: that first afternoon I was on the verge of laying you another time.”

“You could have,” Mario replied with some belated disappointment, “I wouldn’t have objected. You could have done anything you wanted with me. Why didn’t you?”

A shy smile went over Eric’s face when he said:

“I didn’t have the courage. I guess I must have thought I was already out of line. It might be really pushing it, you know.”

Mario looked into his still marvelous green-grey eyes and whispered:

“Then do it now! I assume you are ready for it now!”

Eric looked at him, embraced him and give him the first intense kiss in fifty years. Then they simply skipped all niceties and went to the warming-up of what was to come.

It was an almost funny situation upstairs. No, it was great, as great as it was the very first time. But they lied on the bed as two elderly guys, way over sixty, making love as two youngsters, as frisky as two young fowls and with the searing vehemence like two young boys during their first time together.

But there was an important distinction: although they hardly noticed it themselves, being engulfed in their memories of their very first time, it wasn’t as energetically driven as then, but now it was mature, easy-going and incredibly tender.

At long last the apotheosis came: with a delay of half a century Eric entered the other man for the second time, carefully, slowly and patiently, as if he was still the same virgin he had been during their first time together. It was equally passionate as it had been, but the youthful drive was gone. Now it was gentle, tender and intimate, feelings that were beyond their grasp in the days both were younger. Mentally, Mario freely admitted it: it really wasn’t the first one who had entered him over the years, but this had a touching way of doing it that forced tears of emotion into his eyes.

After he had cum, Eric stared in Mario’s brown eyes for a long time and finally said:

“I’m not going to let you go another time, my dear. Even fools don’t make the same mistake twice!”

He kissed him again with the vigor of an overaged adolescent, a kiss that was answered as fervently as his.