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Lenert had recognized the look in Barclay’s eyes, one he had seen many times back in Bremen. Had Isaac understood it, too? Was that why he had been so openly affectionate with Lenert before he and Barclay left for the river?
Lenert struggled to tamp down feelings of jealousy. If Isaac wished to go with another man, that was his business. They had developed a deep affection, true, and Lenert had no desire to be with anyone other than Isaac.
But the American was naïve and inexperienced, and perhaps he wanted to learn the way of another man, a different body, cocks of diverse length or thickness. It was also possible that Isaac was one of those men who craved variety. And yet he had never seemed so; he had always given himself to Lenert in a way that made Lenert feel like he was Isaac’s one and only.
A southbound barge was in the lock when Isaac and Barclay returned from the river. Lenert was relieved to see no change in their demeanor. Yes, they appeared friendly, but there was no signal of intimacy between them. Isaac approached the barge captain and asked if he could give Barclay a ride down to Stewart’s Crossing, and the captain agreed.
“I look forward to your next visit to your mother,” Isaac said to Barclay, and shook his hand.
“I would find that most agreeable,” Barclay said. He bid a farewell to Lenert and climbed aboard the barge, and a few minutes later they were gone, around a bend in the canal.
“He is very handsome, your new friend,” Lenert said.
“Yes, he is. But I only have eyes for you.”
“I would not mind if you went with him,” Lenert said, choosing his words carefully. “You should be free to express yourself.”
Isaac grasped Lenert’s hand, and his grip was warm and strong. “I am not made that way. Mr. Barclay understood that somehow—at the river, he told me that he had come up here with the intent of exploring his desire, but as soon as he saw that you and I were so close, he backed away.”
“He is a man of experience,” Lenert said. “I could tell that from his posture and the look in his eyes.”
“I hope he finds what he is looking for. As I have found with you.”
After the last barge had passed, they ate a dinner of cold beet soup. Lenert’s mother had made this soup hundreds of times, teaching his sisters to prepare it without realizing that Lenert was watching, too, and he had been happy to make it for Isaac with earthy, fresh beets from the garden behind the cottage.
They cleared the table together, and as they were finishing, Lenert leaned in close and pressed his lips against Isaac’s. There was no resistance; Isaac pressed back against Lenert, his eyes closed and a kind of rapture in his pose.
Lenert licked Isaac’s lips with the edge of his tongue, and Isaac opened his mouth, the taste of the cold beet soup sweetening his breath. There was so much he wanted to do for Isaac, Lenert thought, as they kissed. Not just things with his cock, his buttocks, his mouth and his fingers, but so much more, to show in every action how much he cared for this quiet American who had opened his home and his heart to him.
He wrapped his arms around Isaac and stood, bringing Isaac up with him. As he leaned in to nip at Isaac’s neck, his hands slid farther down, gripping the sweet globes of Isaac’s buttocks. Isaac’s rod was hard against him, and Lenert's pulse raced as he thought of what he would do with it very soon.
He pulled back his hands and began to unbutton Isaac’s linen shirt. As soon as he could, he leaned down to tease and torment Isaac’s nipples, the right with his tongue and teeth, the left with his fingers. Isaac squirmed and whimpered beneath him, totally in his power, and Lenert reveled in his ability to draw such pleasure from his lover.
Isaac unbuttoned the first two buttons of Lenert’s shirt and slipped his hand inside, resting his palm against Lenert’s heart. Lenert could feel it beating faster from the contact with Isaac’s skin, and suddenly he could not stand to be clothed any longer. He backed away and pulled off his shirt quickly, then unbuttoned his short pants.
Damn that leg splint. Sometimes Lenert forgot all about it, thinking himself whole once more, and then at times like this it got in the way of what he wanted to do. “Let me,” Isaac said, and he shucked his shirt and dropped to his knees, bare-chested before Lenert. With infinite care that Lenert was sure was meant to torture him for the way he had teased Isaac’s nipples, Isaac drew down Lenert’s shorts, leaving him in his drawers, his cock pressing painfully against the fabric, already spreading a generous dollop of fluid against the fabric.
Isaac slid his hands up the drawers instead of down from the waist, and he found Lenert’s cock and balls. With one hand, he gently squeezed Lenert’s balls, which were full to bursting. With the other he grasped Lenert’s cock and began stroking him beneath the fabric. “Mein Gott in Himmel,” Lenert said.
“You are mein Gott,” Isaac said, looking up adoringly at him. “Mein hübscher Gott.”
Lenert had never thought of God as handsome, nor himself particularly so, but he accepted the compliment because he had no choice, with Isaac’s hands gripped as they were.
Then Isaac released him, and tugged the drawers down over the splint, leaving Lenert naked before him. He felt wanton that way, all his intentions clear while Isaac still retained his pants and some semblance of shyness.
Isaac got down on his knees beside the bed, and Lenert shifted sideways to present his cock to his lover’s mouth. Isaac swallowed him quickly, and Lenert moaned, thrilled by the velvet wetness that surrounded him. Isaac grew more aggressive the more he sucked, squeezing Lenert’s balls in his hands so that Lenert gulped—but didn’t stop him.
Then Isaac slapped Lenert’s naked buttocks with his free hand, and Lenert flashed back to a man he had known in Bremen, who punished him with evil words and those same slaps. While he had done them to Isaac it had been in a spirit of playfulness, but the memory of that man and his anger was too much for Lenert. He grabbed Isaac’s arm and said, “Nein, bitte,” reverting to German in his haste and panic.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Isaac said, pulling off Lenert’s rod.
“Has bad memories for me,” Lenert said.
Isaac rubbed his hand gently over Lenert’s buttocks. “Then we will find other ways to please you.” He stroked Lenert’s crack, and that made him relax again. Isaac went back to sucking, using his index finger to tantalize that rosebud, which opened as he toyed with it. Lenert loved the gentleness of Isaac’s slim finger, the way Isaac moved it up and down slowly, pressing the crack apart, teasing the area around his hole, until he didn’t know what to do, to push against Isaac’s finger, or press his prick in the other direction, further into Isaac’s mouth.
It was a delirious dilemma, and Lenert gave up making conscious decisions, letting his body move as it wanted. His pleasure began to rise in him then, as powerful as ever, and he surrendered into it, clenching his eyes shut as stars danced in front of them.
Then he heard Isaac gasp, and opened his eyes to see him sag back. “I never even touched myself,” he said in wonder.
“And you spend in your pants?”
Isaac nodded dumbly.
Lenert frowned in mock anger. “So you deny me the pleasure of making you spend?”
Isaac laughed. “Oh, you made me spend all right.” He leaned forward and kissed Lenert on the lips. “And now I must clean up.”
Isaac stood and walked outside, toward the pump or the privy, Lenert assumed.
