Date: Mon, 11 Aug 2014 15:59:47 -0700
From: Ben Ezra Jacobson <ben_ezra_jacobson@yahoo.com>
Subject: THE MEDIC Chapter 2

THE MEDIC
Chapter 2
by
Ben Ezra Jacobson


     We had left port two weeks ago after having new electronic systems
added to our submarine.  Commander Tom Buesking had invited me to spend our
shore leave with him for a few days where we had bicycled to a mountain top
to see the view.  It was fantastic to say the least.  We ate lunch at a
mountain top restaurant which surely has some of the world's best
sandwiches and fries.  The portions were so huge that I fed a good portion
of mine to one overly friendly sea gull who adopted me as his best
friend...well, next to Tom of course.  Later, back at our Inn, the
`commander' and the `doctor'...got much better acquainted.  We had quite a
few `uplifting' activities and some `in depth' conversations.  When it came
time to pay our tab, he insisted on paying for everything...telling me that
we would split the bill on our next outing.  I knew that we were likely
destined to become very good friends.

     When we returned to the vessel, he went to the bridge and I went to
the dispensary where I am Doctor Jason Horn...ships physician and on
occasion...pinch hit as stress over load counselor.  Our commander came to
the dispensary the first night we were back out to sea and inquired if
anyone was in sick bay.  I told him that everyone was well to the best of
my knowledge.  "Good," he had replied and backed me up against the facility
door, removed his hat, and kissed me twice...telling me that he loved me.
Then smiling happily, he turned and left the dispensary.  Although our
friendship had been forged fast and we had enjoyed a torrid and erotic week
end together...I felt like his comments to me were given in good
faith...and that he did have a genuine affection for me.

     I continued to treat the sailors who came to see me for anxiety
overload.  Most of them wanted to lie on my exam table while I massaged
their prostate glands and gave them a slow jerk with lubricant.  They would
get aroused quickly, moan and twist while I stimulated them...and ejaculate
furiously in just a few short strokes.  The commander was aware of
this...but seemed to think that moral on his sub had never been higher
since I came aboard.  Interestingly enough...he himself would arrive about
23:00 hours for the same treatment...only he wanted to reciprocate in kind.
Each time he left...he would first back me up against the dispensary door,
kiss me several times, usually while he cupped my hardware...and tell me he
loved me.  If actions speak louder than words...I am sure he was telling me
the absolute truth.

     This evening on arriving, he sat down in a chair next to my desk,
removed his hat...and was aglow with smiles and enthusiasm.
     "Any patients this evening doctor," he asked?

     "No sir," I replied, "I am quite alone tonight."

     "Good..., Jason.  We will be going to a port off the southern coast of
England in seven days.  I would like you to accompany me on a sight seeing
tour while our sub is having some upgrades."

     "England, huh," I repeated.  "I've always wanted to go to England.
What kind of restrictions will we have to follow?"

     "This will get you.  None.  When we leave ship, we will be pretty much
unrestricted.  Why?"

     "You mean we could rent a car and go anywhere we wanted to," I ask.

     "Well, I guess...but London won't let you call on the Queen," he
responded with a sheepish grin.

    "Good one," I shot back.  I was thinking more of...like driving to
Land's End in Cornwall?"

     "That's a nice drive," Tom replied.  "I was there five or six years
ago.  It's about 250 miles from Portsmouth to Land's End, and we drove it
in about five hours."

     "Then, Commander, with your permission...that is where I would like to
go...and I am willing to make it worth your time," the doctor
replied...raising his eyebrows and giving them a good flexing.

     "Oh yes," Tom answered back..."You're going to make it very much worth
my time...and I, yours."

     He leaned over and kissed the doctor on the lips.

     "Hey, Doc...want to lock the door and make it worth my time right
now?"

     "Yes," the doctor replied.


     Tom stood up, unbuckled his pants and dropped them and his skivvies to
the floor.  Jason reached out and took the large penis into his hands just
as the dispensary phone rang.

    "Doctor Horn," he said into the mouth piece.  " Yes, as a matter of
fact he is here...one moment please."

    Jason passed the phone to Tom.  While the commander spoke to the sailor
on the other line...Jason popped Tom's dick into his mouth.  It became hard
as a rock instantly.

    "Can't you handle it yourself, Morgan," he asked in an irritated voice.
"Very well...I will be there in a minute or two."

     He hung up the phone and turned to Jason.

     "Duty calls, Jase...another minute and a half and I would have shot my
load."

     "Can't you delay just for another minute," Jason asked.

     "Well, maybe if we hurry," Tom replied.

     Jason went down on the commander and gave him another minute and a
half of wet sucking.  Tom ejaculated fast and furious.  He shook all over
as he gave Jason a mouth full.  Quickly Jason handed him a urinal to clear
his urinary track of semen residue, blotted the end and pulled himself
together.  Jason spit the ejaculate into the urinal and told him that he
would see to it's disposal.

     The commander gave the doctor a quick kiss, told him he tasted of
cum...and stepped through the door.  The doctor, laughing as he
exited...took care of the disposal of the evidence.

     The doctor was lying in his birth at 24:00 hours when a light tap came
to his door.  Standing in only his skivvies...he answered the door.  The
commander of the sub came back through and kissed him again when the door
was shut.

     "I left some business unattended," he said.

     He backed the doctor to his birth...and when Jason was lying on his
back...the commander pulled off his skivvies...and pitched them at the foot
of his bed.  He situated himself between the doctor's legs...and laying on
his stomach...went down on the doctor's rock hard cock.  It did not take
much manipulation to get him to shoot his load as he moaned and wiggled
under Tom's administrations.

     Spitting the load once more into a urinal...he kissed the doctor again
on the lips.

     "Now who tastes like semen," he said?

     Jason put his arms around Tom's shoulders.

     "We could lock the door and you could stay all night."

    "Tempting," Tom replied, "But not a good idea.  If anyone goes to my
cabin and finds me missing...they might just figure out that I am here with
you.  We, neither of us, need that kind of publicity.  Besides, it is kind
of fun being part of a mystery."

     "Your right," Jason answered back.  "But when we are on shore leave, I
want to lay in your arms like last time."

     Tom pulled him close and held him tight for just a minute.

    "That gives us both something to look forward to, buddy."

    Tom walked to the door while Jason put his skivvies back on...and
opening the door...looking both ways to see if he had been observed
entering the dispensary...winked at the doctor and stepped out, into the
hall way...closing the door behind him.

     Jason thought he would not sleep a wink for the excitement of having a
week shore leave... But, fluffed his pillow, pulled the sheet up over
him...and went soundly to sleep.

     We docked at Portsmouth, England on a Sunday evening.  One of the
first things we did was to check on car rentals.  The best the rental place
could do for us was a small compact on Monday morning.  Tom had said that
it was just as well because in England, the traffic flow went on the left
side of the road rather than on the right as we had done in America.  I had
not ever driven in a foreign country.  Fortunately, Tom had had some
experience.  We calculated the distance to Land's End in Cornwall at
roughly 250 miles and it was suggested that it would be a five hour trip.
Fifty miles per hour.  Probably fairly accurate considering the vehicle
that we would have at our disposal.

    "Jason...are you in a hurry to get there," Tom had asked.

     "Yes and No...I am excited to get there...but I want to see the
English countryside as well," I had responded.  "It is likely that I will
get back here someday...but in case that doesn't happen...I want to see as
much as I can."

     "Well buddy, I would wager that you will be back many times before
your career ends," Tom said.  "Since we do not get a car until
morning...let's find an Inn to stay at...of course unless you would rather
stay on board the sub."

     I grinned back at him as if to say...sure...who wouldn't want to spend
another night in confinement on the sub.  We had a list of Inns and Pubs in
which to select accommodations.  After reading the reviews...we selected
the Red Ox on Cubby-moor-side.  It was like walking into a Charles
Dickens's novel.  The exterior was a white stucco over brick with the wide
board moldings at all the seams.  A big wooden sign hung over the front
door with a Red Ox on the front.  It could have been there for
centuries...but likely not as it didn't seem too worn from the wind and
rain.  Inside, the interior was all wood panels...dark with heavy beams
across the ceiling.  The windows had leaded glass with the panes in
vertical diamond shapes.  Wall sconces and small lamps at all the tables
were already lit for the evening traffic of lodgers and diners.  At the
front desk...a bespectacled elderly gentlemen with snow white hair waited
on us.  Sensing that
 we were navy men on leave...he spoke to us in American English.  He was
kind and friendly and set on accommodating us with the best service he
could provide.

     "Allo Chaps...be need'n a room, would you?  How long will you be
staying with us," he asked.

     "One night," Tom answered back.  "Leaving for Cornwall in the
morning."

      "Rightly so, Sir," the clerk said as he checked his vacancies.  "Most
of our guests leave on Sunday...so we can give you anything you want.  One
or two beds, attached baths with all.  Starts at twenty five pounds for a
single with standard size, thirty five pounds for a double."

     I looked at Tom and shrugged.  The clerk looked at me and smiled.

     "I've never been to England before," I shared.  "This is all a new
adventure for me."

    "Right-o," he said.  "We'll do our best to make ye comfortable."

     Tom smiled at me and said to the desk clerk, "We'll take the two bed
larger room."

     "Very good sir," the desk clerk responded.  Tom handed him two twenty
pound notes and the clerk made change."

      A bell hop grabbed our duffles and motioned towards the stairs, "This
way gentlemen."

     We ascended the stairs to a darkish landing also veneered in paneling.
A lighting fixture over head was the sole source of light.  He unlocked the
door, carried our duffle bags into the room and deposited them on the
luggage stands.  Despite the ancient look of the lobby, the room was bright
and cheery.  There were two beds against the feature wall and a bank of
windows on the farthest wall that looked out over the harbor.  The bathroom
had a claw foot tub and the fixtures were obviously from the 1920's or
1930's...but everything was clean and in order.

     Tom gave the bell hop a fiver and he turned to leave.

     "Well, what do you think," he asked me?

     "Hard to say...but I hope Charles Dickens and Jane Austen don't come
calling at our door," I said with a chuckle.

     After a quick unpacking and a even quicker face and hand wash...we
went back down stairs for dinner.  The restaurant was equally as quaint as
the lobby had been...but interestingly enough...the food was quite good.
We ordered the special which consisted of a sampling of many wonderful
English dishes.  It was not until we returned to the room that I learned
from Tom that the Chicken Pot Pie that I so greatly enjoyed was in reality
beef and kidney pie.  Then going for the old proverbial joke of how is the
best way to cook kidneys...the answer was to 'boil the piss out of them.'
I did not feel too well for the rest of the evening.

     "How about a nice soak in the tub," Tom asked me..?  "I'll draw the
water."

     The claw foot tub was not as large as the Jacuzzi had been at our last
shore leave...but since the faucets and water spigot were in the middle of
the side rather than at each end...we were both able to enjoy the water at
the same time.  I sat on one end with Tom at the other.  His legs were over
the top of mine.  I leaned back to enjoy the warmth of the water.  He had
lit some of the candles that had been placed in holders on the counter by
the staff.  He had snapped off the electric lights before stepping into the
tub...and had turned on a transistor radio he had brought along.  Although
the sound was a bit tinny, the candle light and the warm water worked
miracles on the queasiness I had after learning about eating kidneys at
supper.

     After a fifteen minute soak, Tom leaned forward and cupped my
testicles in his hands.  I don't know if everyone is like me...but I really
enjoy having my balls fondled.  Even though my endowment is only
average...when in a shower or bath tub with warm water, my scrotum relaxes
and I have low hangers with the best of them.  He knew that as he gently
caressed them.  I lay back and enjoyed his hands causing them to tingle.
At one point...he took his finger nails and lightly traced the figure eight
on my perineum...before descending to softly tease my anal sphincter.  I
was hoping he would push in...but he did not.  Instead, he moved upward and
ran his fingers through my pubic hair.  My erection kept getting in the
way.  Finally he took it in hand and massaged the skin around it.  Although
I am circumcised...the flexibility felt as good as if I had not been.

     "Tom, you had better take it easy...or I am going to contaminate the
bath water with seminal fluid," I said grinning from ear to ear.

     "We can't have that, now can we," he responded.  "Why don't you stand
up for a minute."

     I did so, and he pushed my cock into his mouth.  His tongue ran all
over the underneath seam.  It was like an intense, erotic, electrical
shock.  I gasped.


     As much as I wanted to ejaculate, I did not want to loose the element
of anticipation.  I pulled out and clamped my hand tight over the shaft.
Hopping out of the tub...I slipped and slid to the commode where a urine
stream cleansed the passage way and stopped any momentary sensations of a
release.

     "Don't you want to shoot your load," Tom asked me?

     "Yes, I do," I responded...but not this way.  I want some lengthy
intimate time with you first and then shoot my load."

     "Come back to the bath," Tom said to me.

     I slipped back into the water and this time leaned forward to play
with his hardware and get him aroused.  It did not take long.  He was at
full mast almost the minute I touched him.  Running my hands along his
inner thighs...he spread his leg, bent at the knees, as far as he could
within the confines of the tub...and I rolled his balls around in my hands
before teasing his anal orifice.

    "Push in," he said after soaping the area generously.

     I did so...ramming my finger as deep as I could.  He leaned back
against the bath and clamped down on my finger with his sphincter.  The tip
of my finger teased his prostate gland.  Precum started leaking from the
head of his penis and floating to the top of the water.  I pulled back as
far as I could with out coming out and pushed in again.  Tom moaned with
delight.

     "Who would ever think that a finger up some guy's ass could feel so
good," he said.  " The only thing that could improve that would be some
lube to make it slide easier."

     If you want to step out...we can certainly do that," I replied.

     He pulled my finger out and stood up.  Turning around, he leaned
forward with his bent elbow allowing his arms to rest on the end of the
porcelain bath.

     "Now take the Vaseline that I sat on the floor at your end of the tub
and put some of that on my sphincter," he said.

     I did so and slid my finger in again, then pulled back and slid in
again.

     I repeated the action again and again.  Each time, Tom would push back
against my hand and moan with pleasure.

     "Jason, try two fingers," he instructed.

     "Are you sure," I hesitated, "you're awfully tight and it could hurt
like hell."

     "No it won't," he reassured me, "I've taken a dildo bigger than that."

     I was amazed at this sudden confession.

     " With another guy helping you," I asked.

     "No, when I was married," he continued, "I bought her a strap on and
asked her to use it on me...and she did at first."

     "And," I queried.

     "She said it made her feel 'queer'," he continued, "It was a short
time later that she began to talk about our going our separate ways.  I
think she thought that I had some guy helping me with it...but
honestly...can you imagine a guy with a strap on..?  What would be the
point."

     "Do you still have it," I asked?

     "No," Tom responded.  "I detached the appliance from the harness and
used it on myself until it become so discolored that it seemed unsanitary.
I finally discard it to the trash and bought a better dildo for my own
pleasure."

     "You rascal, You," I said to him and gave him a hard slap across the
butt.

      "Oh," he said flinching, "I'll give you an hour to quit that."

     I laughed, but he had surprised me with the story line.  Lubing both
fingers, I put them on the opening and slowly pushed in.  Tom wiggled all
over the place.  He was enjoying it to the max.

     "Do you want to try three fingers," he asked?
      I did as he asked...but it was too uncomfortable.  I pulled out when
he asked me to do so...relieved to think that he was assuredly not into
fisting.

     As nice as a bath is...I hate the soap scum that wants to cling to
your skin when you get out.  We looked around the room for a container that
we could put water into and then gradually wash the residue from our
bodies.  I would rinse him and he would rinse me.  After opening a few
drawers by the sink, we found a flexible rubber hose that attached to the
tub spigot.  It had a miniature shower head on the end.  With the water
running warm, I rinsed Tom's body and he did the same for me.  We dried
each other with warm fluffy towels that were laying over a towel bar that
blew warm air.  For as old fashioned as the hotel was...this modern
convenience was beyond the call of duty.  We were grateful for it.

     I mopped up the floor with another towel so we would not slip and take
a fall later...and after blowing out the candles...joined Tom on the bed.

     "We must remember to turn back the other bed and mess up the pillows
before we leave so it will look like we slept apart," he reminded me.  "We
don't want to give the staff something to gossip about."

     "Do you really think they care," I asked with a chuckle.  "I am sure
we are not the only men who have enjoyed some naked time together in this
room."

     "Turn out the light doc...and get yourself over here in my bed...I
want to have some naked time with you right now."

     He was lying right in the middle of the bed and directed me to climb
over top of him and let my cock hang in his face.  I love to sixty-nine and
did not waste any time in getting into position.  We sucked each other and
caressed each other, kissed each other and stimulated each other to have an
orgasm and ejaculation.  After cleaning up a bit with a wash cloth and warm
water...we returned to the one bed where we snuggled up against each other
and soon were fast asleep.

     There is hardly anything that feels as good as being so close to
someone you love, as being able to feel their rib cage move against your
flesh as they breathe.  Tom had his left arm extended under my neck,
cradling my head and the other arm over my chest, holding me tightly
against him.  Every once in awhile he would lean forward and kiss the back
of my neck.  I would squeeze his hand in acknowledgment.  During the night,
he kissed my shoulder and whispered that he loved me.  I began to think
that he really did.

     "I love you too, Tom."




     The next morning, we woke up to rain and gray skies.  We shaved,
bathed, put on clean clothing and went to breakfast.  We were served
sausages and eggs, obviously prepared in a skillet of grease.  We blotted
them as best we could with napkins and drank our tea and ate our toast.  On
leaving the inn...I wondered if our culinary repast would come back to bite
us while traveling...but it did not.  We collected the rental car, stowed
our duffles in the back, purchased some bottled water and some cookies from
a street vendor, and took off.

     It was obvious that Tom had driven one of these little rental cars
before.  The transmission was manual.  He seemed to have a good command of
the gear shift and clutch as he put the car through it's paces out of
Portsmouth.  The engine had a high pitched whine as it was being shifted.
Tom set on the right and I sat on the left...just the opposite of our cars
at home.  As the car leaped when going into each gear...we laughed at our
attempt to shift smoothly.  To the locals, we were obvious "yanks" from the
colonies...something to be laughed at and joked about.

     "Does it bother you to know that the Portsmouth people are laughing at
us trying to drive one of their rental cars," I asked with a slight grin.

    Tom looked back at me, "Hell no...I don't care.  We won the war, didn't
we?"

    He laughed and shifted again.  The little car again whined and leaped.
We were on the road to Cornwall.  Portsmouth now was part of the past for
six more days until we would return to our vessel.

     "Tom, when we were going over the map this morning at breakfast,
didn't we see that we would be passing through Exeter," I asked?

     "I believe so, why do you ask," he queried?

     "Well, you remember last night when we talked about Jane Austen coming
through the hotel room door..?  When I was in high school we read her book
SENSE AND SENSIBILITY.  In the story, two of the characters got married,
and stopped in their chaise, at the New London Inn in Exeter where they
were greeted by Thomas, the servant of the woman who, her new husband had
jilted.  What they did not realize at the time was that it was Mr. Ferrar's
younger brother Robert who had married Miss Steel and not Edward whom she
loved."

     "Oh God, Jason...don't tell me you like that old fashioned clap
trap...  do you," Tom asked?  "I would never have expected you to like
classical literature."

     "I did enjoy the book...enough that I read the other five that Jane
Austen wrote," I responded...a bit sensitive of his lack of appreciation
for great literature.

     "You're not going to enumerate the titles are you," Tom asked..?

     "No," I responded.

     There was quiet in the car for the next five minutes.

     "Hey, what about those New York Yankees," Tom said...fishing for
conversation.

     "Yeah," I responded.

     "Look, Jason, I'm sorry about smarting off about your love of
literature.  It was rude and tactless of me.  I didn't mean anything by it.
I was not a good student in school and to tell you the truth...I don't read
very well.  Sometimes I take my short comings out on those around me who
are obviously better educated than I am...I apologize if I hurt your
feelings.  Honestly...I don't want you to be upset with me."

     "I'm not angry with you," I responded.  "I love excellence... and
sometimes it is hard for me to understand that we do not all feel the same
way about things," I carefully spoke back to him.

     He put his hand on my knee and gave it a light pat.  "Forgive me?"

     I took his hand in mine and squeezed it warmly.  "No offence taken."

     We stopped in Exeter for a sandwich and a cola before hitting the road
again.  Tom pulled off the highway just outside Exeter.

     "I need a break from driving Jason.  It's your turn to drive," he
informed me.

     "But...but...I don't know how to drive on the wrong side of the road,"
I stammered.  "What if I hit another car or send us into the ditch?"

     "You won't," Tom said.  You're young and alert.  Driving will give you
a feel for the road.  Believe me, you can do this."

     "I've never shifted a car with the gear box on the left side of me," I
protested.

    "Quit whining tough guy," Tom said again... "I won't let anything
happen to you."

     Tom took hold of my hand and pulled me to my feet.  He handed me the
car's key and took my place on the left.  I walked around the back of the
car and sat down in the driver's seat.  It needed to be moved forward a bit
because I was too far from the clutch.  Looking at Tom who was grinning
from ear to ear...I knew he was just waiting for me to show how bad of a
driver I was.  I put my one foot on the brake and the other on the clutch
and pressed it to the floor.  Shifting the car into low gear, I stepped
lightly on the gas as I let off the clutch.  The car started to move.
Keeping my eyes on the road which were virtually empty at this time of the
day, I shifted into second gear, then third, then fourth and then into
fifth.  Maybe there was one 'crow-hop' from third to forth...but I could
not help be amused at Tom's face which was now looking amazed that I could
do it at all.

     He slugged my shoulder lightly, "You faker...you knew all along how to
shift a British vehicle."

     "Not so," I replied.  "Honestly, this is the first time in my life I
have driven a haw-handed vehicle."

     "Liar," he called back to me.

     "No honestly Tom...I have never done this before.  It is beginners
luck...I swear."

     At Torguay...we stopped for petrol and pit stop.  When we came
out...Tom once more took the passenger side of the car.  I climbed in on
the drivers side, put the key back into the ignition, and started once more
through the whole process of shifting out of low and going through all the
gears again..  At Plymouth...we stopped for tea and some pastries at a
fantastic little shop at the far edge of town called Grumbie's Tea and
Taverne.  The tea was dark and sweet...served hot with a crumpet like
confection that looked like a triple decked waffle with a straw berry
filling between the layers and homemade whip cream on top.  It was huge.
We ordered one and split it.  The owner was amused at our English.  Another
commodity that he sold was an spiral bound book with the title: HOW TO
SPEAK ENGLISH IN GREAT BRITAIN.  Tom bought one as a joke...but when we
left the shop...I read it to him while he drove.

      "Listen to this," I said.  "You put "petrol" in your gasoline tank
and when you check the oil...you raise the "bonnet."  If you want to check
your luggage in the rear...you raise the "boot."

     Tom chuckled at me.  "When we get to the hotel...I want to raise your
bonnet and check your oil."

     He reached over the gear shift with his free hand and groped my bulge.

     "In fact, I may not be able to wait until we get to the hotel," he
said.

     I grabbed his hand and put it back on the steering wheel.

    "It will still be there when we get to Land's End," I reassured him.

     "Jason...want to give me a blow job while I am driving," he asked?

     "Yes, but don't you think that is a little dangerous, out here on the
open road," I said.  "What if a truck goes by and sees us," I asked?

     "Then... he sees a six foot American driver getting sucked by the
cutest guy in Great Britain," Tom said.

     I laughed out loud at the thought of it.  I grabbed the edge of the
steering wheel while Tom unbelted, unsnapped and unzipped.  He pushed his
pants and boxers to the floor.  As soon as I touched his penis...it went to
full mast.

I caressed his testicles and he moaned with delight.  A car coming from the
other direction went on by.

     "Do you think they noticed," I asked?

     "Not bloody likely," he responded in his best British accent.

     I continued to tease his erect penis and ran my fingers through his
pubic hair...then down around the twins again and then lower to tickle and
tease his perineum.  He shifted his weight to the right so I could barely
touch his anal orifice.  He shifted his weight back to center.  I looked
out the back window and saw no vehicles for at least a half mile and none
ahead.

     "Lift your arm a minute," I instructed.

     As he did so, I leaned over into his lap and took his proboscis into
my mouth.  After a couple of slides on it to make it all slick and
slimy...I easily moved up and down on it.  Tom moaned again...and a couple
times he hunched upward driving his rod deeper into my mouth.  I pulled off
and tongued the seam along the under side of his scrotum and then ran my
tongue along the under side of his penis.  He was becoming leaky as pre-cum
began to secret profusely.  It tasted salty and was clear.  I lightly bit
down on the top of his shaft.  Tom again moaned with delight.

     "Bite down a little harder, Jason.  The pressure feels fantastic."

     As I did so moving down his shaft...he became even more rigid.  He
moaned louder.  I went down on his shaft with a wet tongue again and then
took his testicles in my left hand and rolled them around with the saliva
from my mouth on them.  They were well lubed.

     "Oh God," he said, "I love having my balls touched and teased.  Do it
again, Jason."

     I continued to rotate his twins as they began to hang lower and lower.
In between moans, Tom said that we were coming into Bodman.  Did I want to
give it a rest or keep my head in his lap.

     "Will the road stop at a light or four way stop where we can be seen,"
I asked?

      "As best I recall," Tom said, " I think we have several stops on this
route."

     "How far are we" I asked.

     "I think the last road sign said 18 kilometers," Tom answered back.

     "Hm, about twenty miles," I replied.  "Keep driving...I want to bring
this to fruition."

     I went back to stroking him with my tongue and then took his rod
totally into my mouth.  By the 15 kilometer sign...Tom was erupting into my
mouth and weaving all over our side of the road.

     "Oh shit Jason, this was not a good idea," he said.

     "What," I responded.  "You mean you didn't enjoy it?"

     "That's just it...I did... and now, when we travel together...I will
expect the same treatment every time we hit the road," he said with a
chuckle.

     He reached over and rustled my hair with his fingers.  Then he handed
me some napkins from the Tea and Tavern to spit his semen into.  After I
had helped clean his dick up and express the last of the leakage...I held
the steering wheel while he pulled himself together.  We entered Bodman a
couple minutes later.

     We stopped at a road side stand to run to the loo and to get an
American Coca-cola.  It tasted great and it cut the semen taste in my
mouth...but the one dollar price I paid for it seemed like highway robbery.
In America, it would have cost me a quarter or less.  Never the less, it
was very cold and very good.

     The trip thus far had been nearly five and a half hours with all the
stops we made.  Our average speed was about sixty kilometers per
hour...slow by American standards...but it had been an easy trip, good
weather thus far, and some relaxing sex.  What more could anyone want.

     When we inquired from the lad manning the stand about the amount of
time to Land's end...he told us about thirty minutes.  I got my camera and
took his picture in his road side stand.  He held out his hand for a tip.
I gave him a schilling.  Generous?  I had no idea.

     As it was, his guess that we would arrive in about thirty
minutes...was right on the dot.  Our lodging was at the Land's End
Hotel... a large white building with glass sun rooms all around it... right
on the tip of land pointing out to sea.  The ocean smelled great.  I
imagined I could smell the salt in the water.  While Tom checked us in...I
went out on the patio and snapped photos of the rocky beach joining the
ocean.  There was not a cloud in the sky and it was early afternoon.  Now
in retrospect...the drive had seemed very fast...and now, here we were.

     Coming back to the car, Tom said, "Grab your duffle, Jase...let's
check out our room."

     Luggage in hand, we found our room and by inserting the key, opened
the door.  It was spacious and once again faced the sea.  There was a king
size bed across from a bank of windows and the bath was modern in every
way.  The room was painted white...even the beams across the ceiling had
been painted white.  It seemed so characteristic of the seaside.

     "Stow your bag mate," Tom said.  "Grab my camera off the desk and
let's go down to the beach for some pictures."

     The two of us walked down to the water's edge.  I shot a 35 millimeter
picture of him looking back at the hotel and then we traded places...so he
could photograph me.  We walked over to a wooden sign with an arrow
pointing towards America.  It read Land's End, End of the story everywhere.
The arrow pointing towards America said 3147 presumably kilometers and the
other arrow pointing towards Scotland said John O'Groats 874.  Some
bicyclists told us that they had started at John O'Groats in Scotland and
had cycled to Land's end.  It seemed amazing to us that the majority of
them where nearly double our ages.  We asked how long the trip took...and
with a grin one said, "Oh many, many days Laddies."

     A British family was playing with their children on the beach.  As we
walked past, they greeted us.  We stopped to visit and found that they were
from Devonshire...and here on vacation.  One of the children laughed as we
spoke to them.

     "You talk funny," one said.  "Most Americans speak strange."

     The parents hushed him up and apologized for the remark.  Tom squatted
down to pat the little offender on the head and to praise his work with the
sand castle he was building.

     "You know...I believe that is the best sand castle I have ever seen,"
Tom said to the lad.

     The little boy's face lit up.  He went from sour to all smiles...which
showed two front teeth missing.  His red hair was nearly the color of his
freckles.  As Tom got up...he said to the little boy, "Your name isn't
Oppie, is it?"

     "No sir," the little boy responded with a big grin, "It's Colin, sir."

     "Well Colin, sir...," I am very pleased to meet you.

     We shook hands with the parents and the little boy's siblings and
walked on down the beach.

     "You have quite a way with kids," I said to him.

     "Yeah, I guess I do," Tom said.  "When I was married...I wanted kids,
but she did not."

     "You would have made a great dad," I replied.

     "Thanks, Jase...I appreciate that."

     Tom put his hand on my shoulder and held it there for several minutes.

     "Hungry," he asked?

     "Not really," I answered back.

     "Me neither...how about if we walk down the beach to the big rock and
back."

      "You're on," I responded.

     The distance to the big rock was probably about a half mile.  People
were lying in the sand, some were swimming and a lot were in hassock like
under slung chairs.  We noticed that everyone seemed content just to be
together on the beach and to enjoy the sunshine and each other.


         Next to a rock bluff, in a shady spot, we sat down on a wooden
bench to just watch the beach combers.  The laughter was contagious.  I
leaned my head against Tom's shoulder just for a minute and told him that I
was so happy to be here with him.

     "Not nearly as much as I am to have you here with me, buddy," he
answered back.  "Not nearly as much as I am to have you here with me."

     He quickly kissed the side of my faced and then looked back at the
beach goers.  A little girl had seen him kiss the side of my face and was
giggling.

     "What's so funny dear," her mother asked?

     Tom put his finger to his lips and gave her a pleading look, to keep
quiet.

     "Nothing mum," the little girl said. "The beach just makes me happy,
that's all."

     Her mother hugged her and responded, "Me too, dear."

     When we got up to walk back to the hotel...Tom gave her a quick wink.
She waved back to us as we walked away.