Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2000 22:55:42 PST
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "For the Love of Bananas" (m/m, sci fi)

			  For the Love of Bananas
		    by Aardon Beta, copyright Nov. 1999

Copying electronically or by any other means for redistribution or posting
at other sites without permission of the author at authorsix@hotmail.com is
prohibited.  This story is a sequel to "To Our Mutual Benefit", one of a
series of stories in the science fiction world of ChaosLaw found at
http://www.chaoslaw.com

     "They say the Gros Michel is the most common banana, and the most
flavourful," observed Frederic as they began the four-hour trip from their
mountain hide-a-way to Coles Creek.
     "Yeah?" said Mikhail as he slipped closer to Frederic.  "I know a much
more common, and much more flavourful banana."  He placed his hand on
Frederic's crotch playfully.
     "The Latin name is Musa sapientum, which means fruit of the wise men.
It was called that because the Roman historian Pliny wrote that wise men in
India lived on this fruit."
     "They were wise," said Mikhail as he squeezed the warm mound in
Frederic's jeans.  "I could live on nothing else."
     "I also read that the plantain is called Musa paradisiaca or heavenly
fruit because there is a legend that it is was the plantain and not the
apple that was the forbidden fruit that tempted Eve."
     "Well it certainly is something that has always tempted me," smiled
Mikhail as he felt Frederic's plantain beginning to swell.
     "Banana plants grow fifteen to thirty feet tall and when you harvest
the bananas you cut down the entire plant.  New plants grow from the roots,
which they called rhizomes.  The rhizomes have eyes like a potato so you
just cut it up into pieces and each piece with an eye grows into a new
plant.  Isn't that amazing?"
     "Oh yeah," agreed Mikhail as he caressed Frederic's thigh.  "Except to
my knowledge, this banana only has one eye."
     "You'd better stop that or we'll end up in the ditch."
     "Then you'd better stop talking dirty to me," grinned Mikhail as he
snuggled up to the twenty-three-year-old.
     Frederic slipped his right arm about the younger boy.  It was
wonderful to be in love.  Turning off highway 87 and onto 73 and heading
toward Keene Valley, they left the main transportation artery through what
used to be Adirondack Park and was still the most direct route between New
York City and Canada, not that there was much travel between the two
anymore.
     Cutting across the northernmost end of the park from east to west was
awesomely beautiful and at the same time totally devastating.  It had been
a surprisingly mild fall so that by mid November the temperatures during
the day were as high as fifty and at night hovered around freezing.  The
forest was a blaze of crimsons, oranges and yellows, nature's celebration
of the year's end before the first snow flurries.  Wild geese flew
overhead, migrating from Canada to warmer points south, their coarse
honking even heard over the diesel engine.
  The air was crisp and clean and the autumn sun hot as it shone through
the truck windows.
     They paused at Meacham Lake for the lunch that the ever methodical and
practical Mikhail had packed.  Carrot sticks and celery from their own
indoor garden, garlic sausage and cheddar cheese traded with a Pennsylvania
Dutch family, and crusty buns and apple cider from Frederic's friends in
Port Jervis they could not want more.  Afterwards, they strolled hand-in-
hand through the forest, the dry leaves crunching under their feet.  They
paused to watch a flock of Canada geese land in the lake and begin to dive
for their own lunch.  It was a perfect day, a day for a picnic and a
stroll, a day for making love in the woods.
     Mikhail slipped his arm about his beloved and drew him close.
Frederic looked down at him, the older youth's turquoise blue eyes full of
love and caring.  Their lips met in a sweet tender kiss.  Mikhail returned
the kiss and Frederic responded with another.  The two young men
simultaneously caressed each other as they exchanged brief, gentle kisses.
Mikhail pulled Frederic's shirt out of his trousers as Frederic did the
same, and slipping their hands under each other's clothing, they caressed
each other's back as they kissed again and again.  Mikhail finally began to
unbutton Frederic's shirt, the five-foot-ten nineteen-year-old taking the
lead in their foreplay as he usually did.  He ran his fingers through
Frederic's fine, blond chest hair, and massaged and caressed his breast.
It was firm, the result of working out two hours every day.  Frederick
might have been the philosopher and the more academic of the two, but he
was far from sedentary, and although his muscles were undefined, he was no
weakling.
     As he felt his nipples harden, Frederick unbuttoned Mikhail's shirt
and eased it off over his shoulders.  The nineteen-year-old had a thick
patch of dark chest hair already, the colour of burnt almond like the hair
on his head and much thicker than the curly blond youth had.  Frederick
entwined his fingers in it, delighting in the eroticism of two men
caressing each other.  Who would have thought six months ago that he'd fall
in love with another man?  Who would have thought that he'd find another
man's touch arousing?  He could not deny the young Russian immigrant's
kisses and gentle caresses were causing a fluttering both in his heart, and
in his jeans.
     Mikhail had unbuttoned the top and was unzipping his fly at the moment
and Frederic slowly realized that his breathing had become deeper and
faster.  He watched as the dark-haired boy opened his jeans and then eased
them down over his hips, and then Frederic did likewise to his lover.  The
simple act of revealing his white jockey briefs and seeing the swell of his
cock and balls in the pocket caused Frederic's boxers to begin to tent out.
They sat on a fallen log there in the woods and removed their runners and
socks, their pants, and their underwear.  By then they were both fully
erect.
     Laying down on his back on the forest floor and raising his legs,
Frederic took long deep breaths as Mikhail knelt between his legs.  As he
felt Mikhail's hot, hard cockhead press against his anus he pushed out.  As
Mikhail pushed harder, so did Frederic.  Slowly the dark-haired, bearded
youth mounted him.  It was a strange sensation as he felt his sphincter
being stretched, as he felt the hot, hard cock penetrating him.  He felt
Mikhail slowly enter him until his thin, tender thighs were pressed against
Frederic's backside.  Frederic sighed loudly.  It felt wonderful to have
Mikhail inside him.  For a man to allow another to enter him had to be the
greatest commitment of his love.
     The sun beat down on Mikhail's back and naked butt as he slowly began
to work his hips to and fro.  The teenage boy could not believe his
fortune.  He was madly in love with the most wonderful youth in the world.
It was not the first time.  He thought back and counted his loves.  This
was his sixth, but Frederic was different from the others.  This was by far
the deepest and strongest love he'd ever felt.  This one was the best of
them all.  It was not just having his naked body there beneath him or the
tingling pleasure that was making his peckerhead feel like it was
effervescing, it was the similar sensation he was feeling in his chest.
     Mikhail closed his eyes as he worked his cock in and out of Frederic's
hot, tight asshole.  As he felt it pulsating about his cock, he sighed with
the pleasure beating between his legs, and with the knowledge that his
beloved was both enjoying being fucked and trying to increase his own
pleasure.  He slowly opened his eyes and looked down into Frederic's.  The
love and the arousal he saw in those beautiful turquoise eyes heightened
his own arousal.
  He increased his tempo, working his wiry, hundred-and-forty-five pound
body to and fro in that rhythmic motion of love.  A minute later he
quivered violently and groaned as he came.  His cock throbbed out his semen
and he gasped and grunted as he worked his gushing cock in and out in a
final frenzy, slicking it in and out of his hot, creamy load which had
filled Frederic's rectum.
     Having a man climaxing up his rectum was an undescribable pleasure.
Feeling Mikhail quivering between his outspread legs and hearing him
gasping for breath as he reached his orgasm, triggered Frederic's own
climax.  He inhaled deeply as he felt his cum begin to rise up his shaft.
As it spurted out, his cock jerked about wildly like a fireman's hose that
had gotten out of the firefighter's grip, causing his cum to splatter his
chest and stomach.  Shot after shot erupted from his loose canon and
splattered his body.  Frederic continued to inhale and exhale deeply as the
pressure finally began to subside and the last of his cum oozed out of the
tip of his cock and down over the knob and along the underside of his
shaft.
     Mikhail smiled as balancing on one elbow he scooped up a splatter of
cum with his forefinger and slipped it in his mouth.  Savouring the warm,
creamy globule, he flicked up another and fed it to Frederic.  The older
youth eagerly opened his mouth and slipped it over the proffered treat.  As
he sucked his cum off his lover's finger, his blue eyes twinkled.
  It was wonderful making love with Mikhail, and it was especially
wonderful to be doing it together in the woods and the fresh autumn air.
     Those were the good parts of the trip.  The bad parts were the
constant reminders of the Yarilian invasion.  Normally the Meacham Lake
recreation centre would have been packed on a gorgeous November day like
that day, but the Yarilians had decimated the earth's population from six
billion to two million.  Those who were left were struggling just to
survive.  There was not another vehicle in the recreation centre, and
likely few if any in the entire Adirondack Park.
     Another reminder, more brutal and intense, were the slashes of burnt
forest, the result of the systematic bombing by the Yarilians in an attempt
to destroy the forest, not just because it could harbour food, but because
it was a thing of beauty.  They could not bear to allow the humans to have
anything that could bring them pleasure.  At least that was the most
commonly held theory as to why they had bombed largely uninhabited and
nonindustrial areas like the Adirondack mountains.  Others felt that there
had been no such pre-thought but rather that the Yarilians had just bombed
indiscriminately.  In their shotgun approach, they had simply blasted
everything in their sight.
     When they had passed the burnt out Noonmark Diner where Frederic and
his grandfather used to stop for their famous fresh pies, Mikhail thought
Frederic might even begin to weep.  Normally reserved and in many ways even
cold, the twenty-three-year-old had to have a strong attachment to the
place.  Mikhail knew about attachments and memories and pain.  The corner
grocery store back in Queens would never again hold the memories it once
had for him, and he could not pass it without feelings of such sadness that
his eyes immediately began to tear.  Of course he had always been romantic
and passionate about things.
     They arrived at Coles Creek without incident.  Leaving the truck in a
bombed out warehouse near the dock, they sat down on what was left of the
boardwalk and waited.  Frederic took out the sheaf of papers he'd run off
from his search of the web.
     "Most types of banana plants require exposure to 100-150 ppm ethylene
twenty-four to forty-eight hours at fifty-nine to sixty-eight degrees
Fahrenheit and ninety to ninety-five percent relative humidity to induce
uniform ripening," read Frederic from one of the sheets.  "Carbon dioxide
concentration should be kept below one percent to avoid its effect on
delaying ethylene action.  Use of a forced-air system in ripening rooms
assures more uniform cooling or warming of bananas and more uniform
ethylene concentration throughout the ripening.  Think you can modify the
new agrarian bay to meet those specifications?"
     "No problem," smiled Frederic.  "Stop worrying."
     "The fruit can be eaten raw with sugar and cream, or wine and orange
juice, roasted, baked, boiled, fried, or as an ingredient in soups and
stews," Frederic continued reading.  "They can be dried and ground into
flour, made into fritters, preserves and marmalades, used in salads, or
added to milk shakes and bread.  In East Africa an intoxicating drink is
prepared from the fruit."
     "Always knew it was a versatile little thing," observed Mikhail as he
placed his hand in Frederic's lap.
     "What do you mean little?" asked Frederic with a grin as Mikhail
squeezed him.
     He put aside his papers and the two youths embraced and kissed.
Frederic had never felt about anyone like this before and Mikhail's kisses
made his head spin.  Mikhail, on the other hand, was quick to form
emotional relationships and was light-headed with love even before their
lips touched.
     The arrival of the ship from Costa Rica interrupted their love making.
The exchange was quick and uneventful, four electric cars for four dozen
banana plants, two crates of rhizomes, and one crate of bananas.  After
loading the flatbed and covering their load with a tarp, they hid the truck
in the warehouse again and strolled along the shore of the Saint Lawrence,
hand in hand, each eating a banana.  Mikhail watched as Frederic sank his
teeth into the white fruit and bit off a piece.  He imagined Frederic
slipping his lips over the banana as a man would a cock and sucking on it
as he worked his lips up and down the length.
     "What are you grinning about?"
     "I love you."
     "And I love you," Frederic replied, squeezing his hand.  Mikhail
continued to smile.  "That's it?" Frederic asked as he took another bite of
his banana.
     "Was thinking of you doing that to my banana."
     "Biting it?" asked Frederic.  "Didn't know that sort of thing turned
you on."
     "Not biting.  Sucking."
     "You don't suck bananas."
     "I do," Mikhail said with an impish grin.
     "Oh?" Frederic replied, his lips slowly curling.
     Smiling did not come natural to him, and the feelings he was having
for Mikhail was an entirely new world.  He had been raised in a cold home,
his father busy amassing his own fortune and his mother more concerned
about the socialites that formed their in-crowd than she was about her son.
As a result Frederic had grown up looking after his own interests because
nobody else bothered looking after them.  Spread sheets and financial
deals, the thrill of negotiations and beating the market were his passions.
Having never seen people forming attachments, he had never learned to form
them himself.
     They kissed and embraced and as they pressed their bodies against each
other they ran their hands over each other's back muscles.  As they
continued, their kisses became longer and more forceful and again each
slipped his hand under the other's shirt and began to caress the other's
naked skin.  As they pressed their bodies together, chest to chest, crotch
to crotch, each could feel the other's growing arousal.  It had taken them
six months to realize their love for each other, but ever since having
professed it, they could not get enough of each other.
     Disrobing each other, they stood there on the shores of the Saint
Lawrence and deep kissed and caressed until they were both erect.  Once
again Frederic lay on his back, and once again Mikhail knelt between his
legs.  They made love there on the sand of the narrow beach, neither
noticing the ship from Costa Rica pass by on its way home.
     An hour later on their way back to where they had hidden their truck
they suddenly came across a gang of Disruptors, a pack of five rough
looking men, all in their late twenties.  Their hair was long and greasy
and unkept, and they reeked of the sweet smell of pot.  Lost in their
thoughts about their lovemaking on the beach, they had not noticed the
Disruptors until after they had been spotted themselves.
     "What are you boys doing out here?" asked the largest, and the
filthiest looking of the five, a man as tall as Frederic but at least fifty
pounds heavier than the one-hundred-and-sixty pound youth.
     "Strolling," replied Frederic.
     "Nobody goes strolling in the middle of the day," he observed
suspiciously.
     "You waiting for something, like a ship maybe?" asked a tall, nervous
skinny man beside him.
     "A ship?" asked Frederic, being a quicker thinker on his feet than
Mikhail.  "What would make you say that?"
     "Word is that ships are coming by here, making illegal trades."
     "Trades in what?"
     "Drugs, food, whatever people want."
     "We look like we're carrying food or drugs?"
     The five older men studied them.  They all had a mild buzz from the
marijuana they had smoked.  Mikhail ran his right hand over the short, dark
black stubble on his left cheek nervously.
     "Looks like you're packing to me," one of the Disruptors said as he
approached the nineteen-year-old youth.
     "Packing?" he asked nervously.
     "Yeah," the man said, leering at his crotch.
     "Ahhh," said the tall, skinny one, a grin of realization slowly
passing over his face. "That is what you boys were doing."
     "All right," said Frederick.  "We were.  There's nothing like a little
hot sex along the banks of a river on a lazy afternoon."
     "I can certainly agree with that," leered the one who had approached
Mikhail.  "Bet your young ass is still good and tight even though you've
just had it fucked."
     Frederic and Mikhail tensed.  That they had been out having sex had
been a logical reason for the two of them to be there along the river
alone, but it was too logical.  They glanced at the five Disruptors, trying
to act calm, trying not to show their fear.  Having sex with each other had
been the result of living together for six months, and was an expression of
their mutual love.  Engaging in sex with five strangers they had just met
and none of whom were physically attractive was something totally
different.
     "Forget it, Rake.  We got things to do.  Sides, these two sweet boys
don't look the type to go in for group gropes," said the man who appeared
to be the leader.
     "Since when did consent concern you?" Rake asked, his voice not
challenging but clearly reflecting his annoyance with the other's comments.
     "You know why we're here," the other said, his voice firm and
measured.
  "We're to be watching for that foreign ship."
     "Don't take five to keep an eye on the river."
     "No.  Can be done by four.  And the take can be split four ways also,"
the leader replied pointedly.
     Rake got the message and said no more.  The Disruptors continued on
their mission and Frederic and Mikhail headed toward the flatbed, wondering
if the ship the gang was looking for was the one heading out to sea, and if
it was, just how much was known about the deal they had just made.
Frederic had been very careful making the arrangements, as he always was,
but no matter how careful or how well planned, there were always risks.
     They took a circuitous route back to where they had hidden the
flatbed, constantly checking to be sure that they were not being followed.
The encounter with the Disruptors had unnerved Mikhail, and he was anxious
to be on their way and back in the safety of their mountain hide-a-way.
     The trip back home was even riskier than the trip to Coles Creek.  A
flatbed carrying four electric cars was suspicious enough, but being caught
with a load of banana plants was a certain death sentence.  Since the
invasion, the Yarilians controlled the food supply or rather, the
Disruptors did.  Anyone else caught trading in food was killed, or wished
that they had been by the time the Disruptors were through with them.
     Exactly why the Yarilians had attacked Earth was a mystery, the
bombing of the planet having taken place from outer space for the most
part, and after two-and-a-half years, the invading force still having not
left their ship, at least as far as anyone knew.  Of a more direct and
immediate concern were the Disruptors, huge collectives of humans who spent
their days and nights either raising havoc among those who were doing their
best to maintain some semblance of humanity and decency, or engaging in
wild orgiastic parties.
     Some said that the Disruptors were working for the Yarilians, but
Mikhail could not see how that could be.  Of what benefit could there be to
work for an alien invader, and why would an alien enlist help from those
they were invading?  Mikhail subscribed to the other common belief the
Disruptors, largely drug addicts and criminals, simply had a free reign now
that there was no organized government or police force and were talking
advantage of the situation.
     Either way, one method by which the Disruptors exercised domination
was by controlling the food supply, keeping most of it for themselves and
doling it out to their favourites while withholding it from their enemies,
which was anyone who tried to bring some order and control to their small
part of the world.  So, being caught with a truckload of bananas would not
be good for their health to say the least.
     Mikhail and Frederic made their way along the mountain road with
agonizing slowness, crawling up the side of one steep-walled valley and
descending down the next.  They were tired and hungry, but they chose to
continue, eager to be back in the safety of their technological hide-
a-way.  They passed the halfway point.  Two more hours.
     Then, as the highway curled around the bottom of Lake Placid, they
came upon a drunken party of Disruptors at the junction of highways 86 and
73.  They had spotted them too late to stop and hide, and even if they
could still slip away unnoticed, to detour around them would take hours and
would take them miles out of their way.
     Although it was early evening, the group was already flying high.  On
the good side, that meant they would not be thinking too clearly, or in
much of a mood to conduct business.  On the bad side, they would be even
more volatile than ever, so who knew what they might do.  With the approach
of the truck, half a dozen got up from the bonfire they were sitting around
and staggered over to stand in the middle of the road.  Frederic and
Mikhail were tempted to step on the gas and plow into them, but instead
they inhaled deeply as the truck ground to a halt.
     "What you boys got under the tarp?" asked the tallest, and also the
ugliest, of the six.
     "Palm trees," said Frederic, and Mikhail sent a quick prayer of thanks
that the older youth thought quickly on his feet.  He would never have
thought of that.
     "Yeah?" the leader of the pack said as he wobbled over to look under
the canvas.  "What for?"
     "Just because we've been invaded doesn't mean we can't have some
beauty," said Frederic.  "These are for around the pool."
     "Pool!" snorted the man.  "The world is in chaos and he is decorating
his pool for Chrissake!  The fucking rich don't change do they?"
     The men laughed.  The leader looked at the plants again.
     "Can you make anything from palms?" he asked his men.  They shrugged.
"What is in the crates?"
     "Rhizomes," replied Frederic, and when the man raised his eyebrow, he
explained, "roots."
     "Can you make anything from palm roots?" he asked, looking around at
the others.
     "Yeah, I think you can boil them.  Eat them like potatoes."
     "Burn them."
     "The rhizomes, or these two snooty boys?"
     "The rhizomes," he replied, but then added with a smile, "but if they
give you any trouble throw them in the fire besides."
     Mikhail and Frederic watched helplessly as the men pulled the first of
the crates off the truck.  They dropped it on the ground beside the truck,
smashing it open.
     "It is roots," commented the leader, sounding surprised.
     Frederic and Mikhail said nothing.  The man bent down and picked one
of the roots up.
     "Shit, you wanna boil and eat that crap, go ahead" he commented,
tossing the rhizome to Frederic.
     The leader and his men headed back to the party.  Mikhail and Frederic
quickly loaded the broken crate back on the truck and continued on their
way.  Three hours later, safe back at the secret complex and their cargo
unloaded in the new agrarian bay, the boys stripped down to their underwear
and crawled into bed, each with a large soup bowl of bananas with sugar and
cream.
     "The pink fruited banana, Musa velutina, is a very fast growing,
substantial plant that reaches nearly three metres and has metre or more
long leaf blades," said Frederic, once again reading from the sheets of
information he'd run off from his search of the web.
     "Best kind of bananas are those that are pink and fast growing,"
observed Mikhail, reaching over and cupping Frederic's crotch.
      "The erect spikes of the flower are very attractive and followed by
velvety pink, stubby bananas which split when ripe to reveal pink flesh and
masses of black, gritty seeds," Frederic continued to read.
     "This erect spike is very attractive," observed Mikhail playfully as
he palpitated the growing flesh inside Frederic's boxers.  "And I much
prefer its white, creamy seed."
     "The Ice Cream or Blue Java has a bluish cast to the unripe fruit,
which is seven to nine inches, quite aromatic, and said to melt in the
mouth like ice cream."
     "Seven to nine is a nice size," Mikhail observed as he pushed down
Frederic's boxers.  Taking his semierect cock in his hand, he slid down and
nuzzled it with his nose.  "Very aromatic.  Let's see if it melts in the
mouth."  He slipped his lips over it, with the obvious result.  "Nope," he
said with a grin.  "Just the opposite."
     "Banana plants need a rich, humus soil and like it hot and humid,"
continued Frederic, looking up from the notes with a wide grin.
     "Oh yeah, I love it hot and humid," sighed Mikhail.
     "Generally speaking, a good banana should be plump, unblemished, firm
and bright in appearance. Exact colour is not a quality factor."
     "Yeah, that's true.  But colour is a quality factor, and I love the
colour of your banana," Mikhail observed, holding the now erect
seven-and-three-quarter-inch organ by the base.
     "Listen to this.  The United Fruit Company published a pamphlet during
World War I that provided consumers with a number of 'Points About
Bananas.' The company recommended bananas as wholesome, cheap, nutritious,
delicious, easily digested, always in season, available everywhere, no
waste, convenient for the dinner pail, good food when cooked, good food
when not cooked, the poor man's food, the children's delight, endorsed by
physicians, put up and sealed by nature in a germ-proof package, and
produced without drawing on the Nation's resources."
     "Sold me," said Frederic as he began to stroke the stiff
seven-and-a-half inch cock in his hand.  "Wholesome, cheap, nutritious,
certainly always in season, and convenient in the dinner pail."
     "You ever think of anything else except sex?" Frederic asked with a
grin as he put the papers aside.
     "Sure."
     "Such as?"
     "Bananas," Mikhail said with an impish grin.
     Frederic smiled.  "You do have to admit, deciding to get some banana
plants was not a bad idea."
     "Not a bad idea at all," said Mikhail as he slid down and took
Frederic's banana in his mouth.
     Frederic twisted around and raising the elastic band of Mikhail's
jockey briefs, he drew down the nineteen-year-old's underwear, revealing
his dark black hairs and stiff, eight inch organ.  He ran his tongue along
the spongy knob and savoured the unique taste of cock.  "Don't know what
variety of banana has a purplish tinge," he observed, "but this one
definitely is delicious, and a man's delight."
     His mouth full of hard, throbbing banana, Mikhail could only mumble
his agreement as he felt Frederic's hot, moist mouth envelop his own.