John

I woke early Tuesday morning to see Farr sprawled on his back with his shaft piercing the early morning air. It had been a warm night, and he'd thrown the covers off both of us. I lay on my side with my arm tucked under my head on top of my pillow and just looked at him, ignoring for the moment his rampancy.

He's so beautiful. His clear, almost translucent, ivory skin is accented by his luxurious black hair and eyebrows. Women would give their souls to have his long eyelashes. He has a heavy beard that belies his small size. Three hours after shaving, he has a four o'clock shadow.

I studied how the straight soft black hair swirls around his nickel-sized nipples and rushes to meet in a thick collision in the center of his muscular chest. From there it flows down his flat belly to spread out around his little 'inny' navel, and then tapers down to a narrow trail until it spreads again to become his luxurious bush.

I hadn't really studied his cock before. It was as long as mine, but not quite as big in girth, but on his little body it looked huge. I knew from intimate contact with it, that it was smooth and silky, but I hadn't noticed the big blue veins coursing up its length under the translucent pale skin. The dark pink tip peeked out of its short hood. A pearl of liquid on its tip tempted me to touch my tongue to it.

I glanced again at his face, he must have been vividly dreaming because the REMs had his eyelids dancing. He started making small jerking movements and groaning, so I gently laid my hand on his chest and he quieted down, although the REMs continued. Since his mother's death, he'd started having this kind of physical reaction to his dreams. They occurred mostly in the early morning just before waking, but he never seemed to remember them when he woke up. Since he didn't seem to be disturbed by them during his waking hours, I hadn't worried about it, although I did miss waking up to him snuggled up to me when I wake up.

I guess I'd gotten lost in my thoughts. I startled when his hand suddenly rested on top of mine. I smiled at him when I saw he was awake and watching me.

"John," he exclaimed, sounding delighted to see me, his voice raspy.

"Good morning, Love," I murmured.

He sleepily smiled and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Just one of my favorite things," I told him.

"What's that?"

"Looking at you."

His smile grew as he ran his hand up my arm. "I love you, Big Guy," he said and rolled up against me and snuggled. That put me at the top of my morning.

Half an hour later, we had a quick loving shower and prepared for a three day run up the coast on our motorcycles. We'd made reservations at a little beachside inn south of the Oregon border.

Although I've lived in San Francisco for several years, I never cease to thrill at traversing the Golden Gate Bridge. There's an excitement to it that I've never felt anywhere else. It's something like riding down Highway 1 through Big Sur between San Simeon and Monterey along the steep cliffs that slide into the ocean.

We stayed on the 101 up to Novato, then headed to Point Reyes on the coast, and then on up to Bodega Bay where we stopped for lunch. After a leisurely lunch, we spun on up to Rock Point and took little back roads to Shelter Cove and its little bed and breakfast inn. The King Mountains, though not big, made a spectacular backdrop along the rocky shore. This was the first time Farr had been here. I loved watching him take in the sights.

Farr

I'd had my Harley for several years… actually since the dealership opened next to my old shop. I'd always wanted a motorcycle, but up until then, I'd never dreamed that they could or would make a bike small enough for me. My bike is a miniature of Rich's big 1990 Fat Boy, or ' Hawg' as he calls it. It cost me almost as much as my new Honda pickup. It's all sleek black and chrome.

I got a kick out of riding along side John on his big beige and black 1951 Indian Chief with its fender skirts and fringed saddle, watching people doing double takes when they see us. We even had a couple of people take snapshots of us as we passed them on the freeway.

When we stopped for lunch in Bodega Bay, we found a little café on the waterfront that served freshly caught fish. We both had their version of a 'poor boy' fish sandwich and a cold beer. Tourists flocked around us taking pictures of the two of us in our leather gear and boots. After relaxing a bit and posturing for the tourists, we headed on north.

Once we turned off the highway and were tooling up a narrow country road with mountains on our right and the ocean on our left, I decided that if I could retire tomorrow, it would be up here on the coast.

When we reached Shelter Cove and the little bed and breakfast, I was immediately envious of the two fellows that own it. John had obviously stayed with them before; they both hugged him like a long lost friend. When John introduced me, they reacted much the same way, making me feel totally one of the family.

Shelter Cove shall always be one of my favorite spots, most likely because it was the place that I fell even more in love with John. He opened a part of himself to me that I'd suspected from the little things he's done or said since I met him. But being together, away from the rest of the world, I saw the complete tender, caring, vulnerable side of him. How someone like the creep that Rafe had told me about could hurt this big loving man is beyond my comprehension. I'll spend the rest of my life loving and caring for him.

John had told me that he'd been to Shelter Cove several times… a couple of times with Rafe and Rich, before Tommy became one of their group, but never before with someone special. I sometimes muse on the fact that John has never mentioned that person he'd been so hurt by. If Rafe hadn't told me about him, I'd never have suspected there was such a person.

John told me neither Rafe nor Rich had been much for spending time on this beach. It's certainly not a place for sun tanning. It's often foggy with a cold breeze. The icy Alaska Current runs down the coast here, so it's not a place for swimming either. I did see an occasional surfer in their full body wetsuits, but there's so many big boulders half submerged along the coast that I'd think it would be a bit dangerous.

John and I spent most of our time walking on the beach. The first afternoon, we walked several miles down the beach to the small hamlet, holding hands and talking there and back. The next morning we took a borrowed blanket and found a warm protected place to lie and talk; but there were the quiet times, too, when we simply enjoyed being near each other - not saying anything.

We walked up the beach to a promontory that stuck out into the water. We climbed over and around boulders as big as cars out to the point. It was there that John told me again that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

I'd kind of assumed that was the way both of us felt since he had asked me to move in with him, and I'd, after all, accepted his proposal to be mates in front of Will and Reece. But I swore to him again that that was what I wanted as well - to spend the rest of my life with him. In silence, I sat on John's lap and he held me like a child while we watched the waves crash against the rocks around us.

Sometimes, since I've met John, I feel more fortunate than other men… being small and getting held like that by my big lover. Other men haven't gotten to experience being held like that since they were little boys. I wonder if they know what they're missing.

The morning we left to return to the city, we rode out to the edge of the promontory and gazed down at the spot we'd re-cemented our relationship. We both mouthed, "I love you," revved our bikes and headed south to home.

John

Our four-day biking holiday was way too short. Actually, the way I was feeling, a year or ten would have been too short. When I stop and think about the day I met my little guy, I shake my head in wonder. I should have known from my reaction to him that first day that we had something special between us. But then maybe it was best that it took time for us both to come around. You know what I mean? It's like it gave us a broader foundation on which to build our relationship.

That last morning, the sun hadn't come up yet, and I was lost in my favorite early morning pastime... just watching Farr sleeping, and then beginning to awaken. The way he immediately smiles at me when he opens his eyes and says my name like he's totally delighted to see me lying there beside him - it just sends me rocketing.

Farr never has morning dragon breath. I suppose it's because he eats so many leafy greens. I've accused him on occasion of being part bovine or billy goat. He always grins and bleats at me. I've got to say though, since I've been living with Farr, he says my morning breath has greatly improved.

Breath analysis aside. I wrapped my little guy in my arms and rolled onto my back, pulling him on top of me. Farr started laying kisses on me, light feathery kisses... until he descended to my mouth, then the kissing turned seriously heavy as his tongue demanded entrance.

Soon he was begging me to give it to him...give it to him like the first time, when I stood with him impaled, holding him in my arms while he squirmed and wiggled on my shaft.

Afterwards, with him again lying on my chest with my arms wrapped around him, we just enjoyed being together. As much as I love fucking him, it was this...holding him after making love to him... that turned me on the most. That morning... especially that morning... the morning after we'd again declared our desire to be together forever, I felt so close to him... so connected. The way he clung to me like I was the most important man in his life. I was simply on top of the world. How could life get any better? I love this little man absolutely, and I know this love will last... for eternity.