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One For Sorrow, Two For Joy

By Withdrawn

One For Sorrow, Two For Joy
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Paperback, 82 pages paperback Online Price:
ISBN: 9781909840416
Format: 203mm x 127mm
Imprint: Xcite Books
Published: 27th June 2013

Category: Gay

Rating: 0 vote(s).



Jason never forgot the first time he met Martin Riley, and his dog, Megan – halfway up a Yorkshire Dales hillside as he tried to fix a flat tyre – nor how he came to stay at Tumbledown Farm that rain-swept evening. There had been something about the handsome farmer’s attitude, and his offer of employment, that had made Jason realise there was the possibility of a new life after the total fiasco that had been Derek. That was until Martin’s ex turned up out of the blue, with a massive suitcase and an attitude to match. Would Jason’s hope of happiness be snatched away, or were some things in life worth fighting to hold onto?

Martin rested a gentle hand palm down on my chest. ‘I don’t know. You make me feel that there are still better things in life. I don’t want to put any obligations on you. Only … I want you to know that, if you decide to stay and make a go of things, then I wouldn’t be one to object. But, as I said to you before, friends may be friends, but business is strictly business.’

Hearing the catch in his voice, I gave way to a long-felt urge. I reached up, pulled his head down to mine and kissed him, regardless of where such a move might eventually lead. As our lips met, I opened my mouth and pulled him into me, feeling his tongue tentatively explore its way in, and an increased pressure at the back of my neck.

As we broke for air, he asked, ‘Are you sure about this? If it’s too soon, then say so. Honestly, I won’t mind.’

‘To tell you the truth? I’m not sure about anything at the moment.’ I looked directly into his blue-grey eyes. ‘But don’t let that stop you.’

He laughed softly. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m reaching the point of losing control.’

I rolled and pushed my head further into his groin. ‘I’d say, from the feel of you, that you’ve been exercising some serious constraint.’ I moved his hand down my stomach and placed it firmly against my own hard-on. ‘And does that answer your next question?’

‘You don’t know just how much it does.’

Hurriedly we walked, fumbled, and kissed our way back into the kitchen. Megan had looked up at us as we bumped blindly into the kitchen table, but after a few hurried words from Martin, she’d settled back down to sleep again.

With our arms still around each other, I backed myself up against the still warm Aga, then broke away from his eager mouth. As I reached up and slowly started to unbutton his work shirt, I said, ‘I’ve not done this for some time now, so let me know if I’m rushing things too much for you.’ Then I slipped a hand between the fabric of his shirt and cupped one of his pecs, feeling his hard nipple against the palm of my hand.

As he brought his head down to kiss me again, I could hear a tremble in his voice. ‘Given the choice, I think it might be best if we went upstairs. A mattress is going to be a hell of a lot softer than this floor.’

I ran my fingers repeatedly over his proud nipple. ‘There’s always the kitchen table.’

He coughed back his laughter. ‘It’s the closest thing I’ve got to a family heirloom. Anyway, I doubt the legs would be able to take the two of us sliding around on top of it.’

Within moments we were out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When we reached his half-open bedroom door, Martin paused. ‘As long as you’re still sure about this?’

I pushed him through the doorway and into the room. ‘I think we’ve both gone beyond the questioning stage by now, haven’t we?’

Reaching for the waistband of his jeans, I pulled him close, then walked the two of us over to the large double bed, my hands fumbling with his belt, then the top button, and finally tugging down the zip as we went. With his shirt off, he started unbuttoning mine as I pulled his jeans down around his knees. Seconds later, my shirt was also in the pile of clothing being tossed into the corner of the bedroom or falling around our feet. As we kissed, I pulled his head closer with one hand while the other brushed and teased the material of his bulging shorts. Frantically his hands tried to pull and work on my own jeans, frustrated by the fact I deliberately kept our bodies pressed together, until I stopped teasing him and let him get a hand onto the fastenings. Some muttered curses and blind fumblings, then Martin had managed to push my jeans around my knees, his hand coming up the leg of my cotton boxers to hotly cup my balls.

Quickly we broke apart and, in a rush of motion and swearing at difficult knots, clips and buttons, we managed to take off our socks, the restrictive blue denim jeans and lastly our underwear. Panting a little from the effort, we came together again in an energetic, passionate embrace, and as I kissed his neck I breathed in Martin’s deliciously warm, natural smell. Pushed up against mine, his body felt wonderfully hot and solid; his farmer lifestyle had kept him trim but not overly muscular, and the hair on his chest was more soft and silky rather than a rough mat of wire.

As we continued to kiss, I felt his hands work their way down my back and take hold of the cheeks of my arse – his fingertips slipping between them, then gently parting them slightly to allow his fingers easier access.

I pulled his head onto my shoulder and sighed gently in his ear, then nibbled at the earlobe with the side of my mouth. In a whisper, I said, ‘I’m versatile, so you can take this any way you want.’

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