Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2011 01:14:34 -0400
From: Jesse Jesse <gmmac1987@hotmail.com>
Subject: Matthew, My Love Part 5

	For the next few weeks, our lives were pretty uneventful. Oh, now
don't get me wrong. There were several times when Matthew's parents would
be gone to dinner or late business meetings that we tried to take advantage
of, only to have one of his parents shouting at the foot of the stairs at
the worst possible time, but as a general whole, life was pretty
calm. Pretty calm that is, until one evening right before Thanksgiving when
Matthew's dad, Robert, came home from work grinning a 25-year-older version
of Matthew's brilliant smile. "I have two of the greatest pieces of news I
ever remember telling you!" He sat down at the kitchen table, almost
shaking from excitement. "First and foremost, Alex, I believe I have found
someone who might be able to help you with your voice! I don't want to get
your hopes up too much until I , at least, talk to him, but it's looking
hopeful. Second, and try to stay calm for this, our family will be going on
a two week trip to Scotland!" At this we all sat stunned, almost in
unbelief at what Robert had said. "What's that matter with you three?!
Didn't you hear what I said? I've found something I think can help you talk
again, and we're going on vacation!" "Robert, are you sure? I mean, the
guys have school." Nadine sat looking gently at her husband, as though he
hadn't thought of these details. "Yes, Nadine, I know that. We won't be
going during school We'll be spending the holidays there!" Matthew's mother
gasped. "Are you serious?," we all said in unison. "Yes! We're going to
spend the holidays in Scotland!"

	The next few weeks were extremely hectic. We all spent almost every
free moment planning our trip. "Now, be sure and pack.....," "and don't
forget when we go through security..." Indeed, the planning and preparing
was so crazy that the day of our flight was looming before any of us truly
realized it. The big day arrived, wilder and more hectic than even
expected. This was my first time traveling outside of the state, so could
hardly contain the shaking inside my body as we proceeded through airport
security checks and screenings. Sensing my unease, Matthew took me by the
hand and helf tight as we made our way through one airport after
another. The almost-eight hour flight from the states to Scotland was
turbulent, and seemed to weather one storm after another, but finally found
us safely touching down in Glasgow before going on another almost three
hour drive to our B&B in Fort William.

	Never in my life had I seen such a beautiful place as
Scotland. Loch Linnhe lay sleeping peacefully along the glen, seeming to
disappear into the very base of the mountains surrounding it. Even in
Winter, boats traveled the "Caledonian Canal," their captains and travelers
waiving and shouting to people ashore. Ben Nevis towered above us, covered
in snow and wispy clouds. The "braes and moors" throughout the "Great Glen"
stood dotted with white stone cottages and sheep. Small white houses along
the streets shown against the cold with candles in the windows and
evergreens framing the windows and doors. Though the ground didn't stay
covered for long, snow fell almost every day. It seemed like something from
a storybook. It took a couple days exploring the narrow streets before
being able to venture out without having to ask someone how to get back to
our rooms. We spent one whole day skiing, and then Robert arranged for us
all to take a trip south to Glen Coe, taking in the desolate beauty of the
snowy white Rannoch Moor. Finally after four days together of skiing,
touring, and shopping, Robert and Nadine decided to spend the day in, "to
recooperate from keeping up with two teenagers." Neither Matthew or myself
complained at this, for it gave us some much-desired time along.

	Matthew and I set out down the cobbled street from our B&B to
explore and see what we could find. Being "part of the Clan Robertson,"
Matthew was interested in finding some information about his family, and it
didn't take long to find it. One of the first stores along the narrow
street held a sign, "knitting mill," so we squeezed through the door and
started making our way through mounds of plaids, kilts, and "woolens."
After a short discussion with the portly lady attending the store, we found
several shelves and tables laden with the crimson red laced with green and
blue that was Clan Robertson. I couldn't help but smile at Matthew's
enthusiasm. He reminded me of a small child. So, after taking in everything
"related to the clan" he could find, we left the shop, Matthew being
changed into a new kilt and kilt socks, that to me couldn't have been more
of a turn-on, a scarf for both of us, and two new wool knitted sweaters
apiece, braving the bitter highland wind and drizzle as we explored the
town.

	That evening we gathered together around a scrubbed wooden table in
the low-ceiling dining room of the B&B to a hearty meal of roast venison
with potatoes and parsnips, bread, and a hot plate of shortbread, "to ward
off the driek and cold." So, feeling full, warm, and exhausted from almost
five fulls days of traveling, we traipsed up the stairs to our rooms. We
were all a bit taken back by the size of European "accommodations" when we
arrived in Scotland. Originally planning for all of us to sleep in one
room, Matthew and I were overjoyed when we wound up sleeping in a room at
the other end of the second story hall. Closing the door, Matthew turned to
me, smiling mischeiviously. I couldn't help but to smile back, reaching for
my ever-present note pad. "So, my wee highlander, I can't help but remember
that old joke about Scotsmen and their kilts. Is it true about 'nothing
under it?' I'd like to find out." Matthew laughed and shook his head. "I
think I've been a bad influence on you. You're not the shy little guy I
used to know,but if you're really wanting to know, why not see for
yourself?"

	I crossed the floor, shaking slightly. Even after being together
for several months now, I still lost control around him!  Matthew didn't
give me time to reach for his kilt belt, or to even reach for a kiss. He
grabbed my hands and pulled me roughly into his muscular arms. The whole
situation made me a little lightheaded, standing there in his arms, in a
storybook setting in Scotland, the sight of him in that kilt, his muscles
bulging against his knitted sweater, those blue eyes staring down at me. I
started tracing his muscles through the rough texture of the wool sweater,
and began tugging at the hem. He relented his hold long enough for me to
lift the sweater from his body and over his head, and then crushed his lips
onto mine. He needed this as much as I did. I pulled loose, much to his
discontent, and began fumbling with the buckles of his kilt belts that held
the kilt around his waist. Finally the wool fell to the floor, and I stood
back in awe. Matthew stood before me, completely naked except for his
socks. He pulled me closer and began tearing at my clothes, finally ripping
the t-shirt in half from my body, and we fell onto the bed.

	I began my journey over Matthew's body, touching, feeling, kissing
and sucking. Slowly I made my way from one nipple to the other, kissing,
sucking, and massaging, feeling his chest rise and fall below me. Working
my way down his abs, I let my hands trace down the trail of hairs from his
bellybutton to his groin. He groaned appreciatively. Finally finding his
dick, I took his tip into my mouth and began loving his member. I began
building up a rhythm, up and down, up and down. Matthew groaned and
squirmed. I took special care to caress and love each ball, and the smooth
sack. Matthew pulled me up, allowing his hands to roam and feel as he
pulled me, finally bringing our mouths together in passion. Even though my
voice was gone, Matthew understood perfectly my every thought and
desire. The look on my face told him that I wanted him, and as he sat up on
the bed, he gathered me in his arms, rising, and laying me back down and
began lifting my legs to his shoulders. Knowing what to expect, it took a
great deal less time to loosen up and take Matthew inside me. He began a
slow, steady rhythm in and out. We continued on, our breathing hitched and
became short, sometimes coming in nothing but gasps. I couldn't help but
think back to our first time of making love together. Gone was the pain I'd
felt that first night. Now we felt nothing but pure pleasure. As Matthew
continued in and out, I made a point of locking eyes with him. If there was
anything I could show him, I wanted him to see the love in my eyes. How
could I not love this wonderful, loving guy? Since appearing out of the
black of unconsciousness on that late Summer evening in the hospital,
Matthew had become my world. He was everything I needed and wanted, and I
desperately needed him to see that. And see it he did. As we looked into
each other's eyes, I felt Matthew give a great gasp and explode into me. As
he blearily looked into my eyes, a smile appeared, and he wispered, "I
know, I love you too."