Date: Wed, 1 Feb 2006 18:10:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Scotty <niki200sc@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Professor and Sean, BOOK 2, Part 23

The Professor and Sean - Book Two - Part 23

by Scotty

Disclaimer:

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area
where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality
and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held
by the artists and/or their publishers and not by the author. They are
quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.

All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to  persons
living or dead is purely coincidental.

The author retains all rights to this story.  No reproductions or links
to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

All other disclaimers apply.

   We all find treasure in the strangest places; it is
the wonder of being alive.
                        Scotty

A special `thank you' goes to my editor and proof reader, Wayne.  His
contribution is significant and greatly appreciated.
As Sean would say, "He's "Awesome!"

NOTE: If you would like to know when I am posting the next part of the
story, send me an email requesting that I notify you when I post to
Nifty.

The Professor and Sean - Book 2 - Part 23


(Sean narrates)

There was a certain sadness on leaving Boston. It was there that I had
done my first serious piano performance. There I learned the magic of
audience approval. My family and my friends also supported me, but it was
my lover, Ry, who helped me through the nervousness of the wait, and then
the joy of the performance. He was always there for me. Rog had Greg got
him out of the rehearsal so he wouldn't hear the encore. It was only
because I wanted to surprise him with my tuxedo that I asked him not to
accompany me to Symphony Hall the night of the performance. If he was
hurt, he never let me know.

Both of us were quiet as we sped along toward home. I was reliving the
happy memories of Boston, and anticipating what the meeting on Wednesday
would be like. I also knew that we would need a live-in housekeeper/baby
sitter. I had only mentioned it once to Ry, and he agreed, but had
thought it might be difficult to find a person with whom we would trust
our three boys. I also worried that we would lose some of the bonding we
wanted if the boys got their principal care from a stranger. I didn't
have any idea how we could handle all of this.

"A penny for your thoughts," said Ry.

"What?"

"A penny for your thoughts, Baby." he repeated.

I smiled, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He kept his eyes on
the road, but spoke gently to me,

"I was just wondering what you were thinking about. It got pretty quiet
in here. I know that I haven't say anything, but truth be known, I was
mulling over a number of things," he told me as he sighed.

"I was thinking about Boston and my performance. It was a wonderful
experience. In some ways I am a little sad about leaving it all behind.
But I have you and I know that we will eventually get the boys, so I am
happy. I am concerned about the boys when we are both at school. I know
we can get someone to watch them, but I worry that they will not be as
happy as if we were with them. Goodness, I'm a first-class worrywart," I
replied and then I giggled.

Ry began to laugh, and suddenly the car was filled with loud, raucous
laughter as the two of us let ourselves go, releasing some pent-up
nervousness and stress. We continued to laugh so heartily that before
long, tears were streaming down our faces.

Ry was almost choking with laughter, but he was able to  spit out,

"It's time for lunch, so let's pull off the main highway and find a
nice little place to have a sandwich or something."

Catching his breath after he had stopped laughing, he continued,

"We can talk there and settle some things about seeing the house, meeting
the committee, and how we will take care of the boys. Remember, Baby,
we'll be at the cabin almost as soon as we get the boys. We'll both be
there for the summer, so it won't become a problem until classes start
again in September. We'll talk it over."

"Let's take the next exit, Hon. I'm actually hungry. But I guess you
already knew that," I told him as I continued to laugh.

After exiting, we were on a narrow country road. We followed it for a few
miles and came upon a lovely old house. A sign announced that it was
Blakley Inn. It was open and served lunch. It would be an oasis for us,
giving us time to discuss some matters, which we had both pushed to the
back of our minds.

We pulled into the parking lot, and soon were sitting at a table near the
fireplace, which was burning brightly. The owner, Ken Peterson, welcomed
us, and soon we were enjoying a bowl of New England clam chowder.

"Thanks, Hon, for thinking about stopping for lunch. You always know how
to make me happy," I told him between spoonfuls of chowder.

"Eat! No need to compliment me, Baby. I'm always sure of one thing.
It's this: my lover is usually hungry."

We both giggled and continued our lunch. `This.' I thought, `is what
happiness is all about.'

-------------------

(Ryan narrates)

After a delightful lunch where we discussed some important matters, we
headed back out and on our way to State. Sean had been animated and funny
during lunch, a return of the guy I love so deeply. We would call Greg
when we got home and ask him to arrange for us to see the house with Mom
and Dad either on Monday or Tuesday afternoon.

On Wednesday we would be meeting with the committee about the boys, and
from my reading of Sean's body language, this was the matter about which
he had the greatest concern. I was also concerned, especially after
hearing about Mrs. Crosby from Dan.

It had been quiet in the car as we sped toward home. I glanced toward
Sean and noticed that his eyes seemed heavy. I reached out, took his hand
and raised it to me lips. I kissed it lightly as a butterfly might alight
on a flower. He smiled at me, and moved toward me, kissing my hand as he
pulled it back toward him. He leaned against my side, his head resting on
my shoulder. He sighed deeply and then the silence returned. The
difference this time was that Sean was asleep. I was happy.

Sean slept until I drove into the parking lot of the townhouse. He
stretched and yawned, his muscular body taut and beautiful. I smiled at
him and asked,

"Did you have a pleasant nap, Baby?"

His smile melted my heart, and he yawned again, kissed me on the cheek
and told me, with his famous giggle,

"It was perfect because I dreamed about you, Hon. You kept making love to
me, in so many ways. It was terrific." Now he was laughing.

"Guess what?" he inquired.

"What?"

"It must have been great because my shorts are full of cum. I reached a
climax at some point. That's how great you are, Hon."

I was opening the car door as he told me this, but I stopped and looked
at him. `Did I hear what I thought I heard,' I wondered. I closed the
car door and grabbed him and, holding him tightly, I stroked his head and
kissed his ear. I wanted him now so badly that I was ashamed of myself.
After all I was a grown, sophisticated, educated man, but I didn't care.
He was my life partner, my husband, my lover. I felt myself shaking
slightly as I tried to control my urges. Sean felt it, too, and pulled
away from me. He looked into my eyes and kissed me, as his hand stroked
my now erect penis. I shuddered at his touch and kiss, hardly able to
speak. He helped me when he said,

"Hon, let's get inside. This isn't the place to do what we both want.
Come on. I'll get the bags."

I didn't move for a moment, as I didn't want to lose contact with him.
He understood, as he didn't try to pull away from me. I was almost
delirious with his scent, his closeness, my desire. Was I acting like a
child? No, I knew I was right, that to want him as I now did, was only an
_expression of my intense love for him. I finally let him go, kissing him
briefly on the forehead, and telling him,

"You do strange and wonderful things to me. You are so hot, Baby. But
that isn't the explanation: no, Baby, you are a complete package. You
are handsome, sexy, endowed, intelligent, talented, gentle, loving,
almost perfect. And you love me: a professor of English at a small New
England college. You could have had anyone you desired, but you chose me.
God has been so kind to me, so generous in giving you to me. Baby, my
lover, thank you for wanting me. I love you so much."

Sean didn't reply, but simply took my hand, kissed it, got out of the
car, came to the driver's side, opened the door, took my hand and pulled
me out of the car. He slammed the door, then walked me quickly to the
door of the townhouse. He unlocked it, turned off the alarm, and with a
childlike smile, led me to the bedroom. He undressed me, kissing my body
as it was exposed. He pulled the bedclothes down, and led me to the bed
where I laid down; my head propped up so that I could watch him disrobe.

At every juncture as he exposed his body, my penis jumped a little
higher, got a little harder, dripped a little more precum. Naked and
beautiful, he stood before me, his cock engorged with blood standing out
firmly from his body. He stroked it once or twice as he moved to me. He
fell upon me, covering my body with his, moving against me, our two cocks
rubbing together. He was kissing me firmly and we were exploring each
other's mouths with our tongues. I thought I might cum, but he stopped,
smiled at me, and said with his giggle,

"Now, isn't this better than the car?"

Laughing and stroking his beautiful ass, I told him,

"Yes, Baby. Yes!"

And he made love to me: a willing recipient of his desire.

--------------------

(Ryan continues)

Surprisingly, after making love we both fell asleep. The last few days
had been exhausting, both physically and emotionally. I needed to use the
bathroom, so I carefully got out of bed and relieved myself. I quietly
went to the kitchen to check out what was around for an evening meal. I
was disappointed, but not surprised. There was little to make a
presentable meal. It would be dinner out tonight. I decided to call Rog
and ask if he and Greg could join us for dinner, thereby giving us an
opportunity to discuss the house and perhaps the meeting on Wednesday.

I dialed Rog's number. The phone rang twice and I was about to hang up
when Greg answered the phone.

"Rog and Greg's," he said.

"Hey, Greg, it's Ryan. I just checked the kitchen and we are a little
bare, not enough to make a presentable meal. I wondered if you and Rog
would like to join Sean and me for dinner. I thought we could discuss the
house and maybe other things. What do you think?"

"Fine with me, man. Just a minute." I heard him call to Rog,

"Hey, sweetheart, want to go to dinner with Ryan and Sean?" There was
some mumbling in the background, but I couldn't make out what Rog was
saying.

"Ryan, he says sure, but everyone pays his own way. No free meals on you
or Sean."

"Of course, how about going to Bradford Inn. It's usually really good
and a favorite of Sean's. If I call and ask, I think we can get one of
those very private anterooms."

"Fine, man. How about seven?" he asked.

"Okay. Look, Greg, everything is set, unless I can't get reservations at
that time. If that's the case, I'll call back with the next best time.
See you then. Bye."

A sleepy Sean stood by the door watching me. He kept yawning, and
occasionally stretched.

"Who was that?" he asked.

I went to him and hugged him. He kissed me quickly on the lips.

"That was Greg," I told him. "I asked him and Rog to come to dinner with
us tonight. There's not enough food here to feed a overfed mouse." Sean
laughed.

"Where are we going?"

"How's Bradford Inn sound?" I asked. He laughed again.

"Hmm, are you trying to get on my better side because you want to seduce
me?"

"Now that you mention it, that sounds like a fine idea. But the fact is
we need to have dinner. I thought it would be nice to eat with Rog and
Greg. That way we can talk about the house. We might drive by just to see
it. And maybe we can chat about the meeting on Wednesday. Perhaps Rog and
Greg can offer some suggestions. What do you think?"

He walked into the kitchen and got a soda, pulled the tab, walked back
into the living room, and standing there naked and beautiful, he said,

"It's okay with me, but perhaps we should get dressed," he said with a
smirk. I realized then that I was naked, too. I couldn't help it so I
started to belly laugh. He joined me and soon the room was filled with
laughter. I was laughing so hard that tears were running down my face. He
was also bent over in laughter. I noticed he had grabbed his penis.

"Do you have a problem?" I asked.

"If I don't piss, I'm going to explode. I have to hold my cock tight so
I won't start pissing here in the living room."

"Get your ass into the bathroom, Baby. I am in no mood to clean up," I
said with a laugh. He hurried out of the room, and even somewhat removed,
I could hear his stream hitting the toilet. I then called the Bradford
Inn. Happily we could have what we wanted and at seven. After I finished
the call, I went to the bedroom and began to dress. I had just put on my
underwear when Sean came out of the bathroom, still naked. I ogled him,
provoking a giggle. He stood there in all his youthful glory; his body
glistening with the drops of water he had on his chest.

"Get you eyes back in your head, you dirty old man," he said, laughing as
he moved to me. He kissed me on the lips and moved to his dresser where
he took out one of his thongs. I watched as he stepped into it, and
pulled it up slowly, somewhat performing for me.

"Stop that, Baby, or I will throw you to the floor and have my way with
you."

"Is that a promise?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of casual slacks.

"You can bet your ass on it," I told him as I laughed.

"I'll remember that," he said as he pulled on a white knit shirt and
over that a light blue cashmere sweater. His gray socks matched his
trousers and he slipped on his black loafers. I quickly dressed, staying
with the tans and a light green sweater.

"You are one hot looking dude," he told me as he brushed his hair.

I finished tying my tan shoes, hurried into the bathroom and slapped on
some after-shave and brushed my teeth. When I returned to the bedroom,
Sean was not there. I wondered for a moment where he might be, but when I
heard the piano, I knew immediately. Then it hit me. The piano! If we did
buy the house it would have to have a place for the piano. I would tell
him that now. I recognized some themes from his performance and when he
started to play `our song', my legs turned to rubber. I stumbled into
the room, went to him at the piano, and sat on the bench. He looked at me
and smiled.

"This piano goes into the house if we buy it. It marks an important
moment in our life, Baby. Plus, I want you to have it so that the boys
and I can listen to you play. Music is important in our lives and I want
to pass that on to the boys."

Suddenly he stopped playing. He looked at me with doubt written all over
his face. He tried to begin, but couldn't. Then he began talking, almost
in a stutter.

"You, you act like we already have the b-b-boys. How can that be? Tell
me, please."

"I think God will not let us down, Baby. He knows we can make a good home
for the boys. They need stability and loads of love. God knows we can
give that love, that stability. I feel in the deepest recesses of my soul
that we will have the boys. I just know it."

Then I noticed the tears running down his face. I kissed them away, and
then hugged him tightly. He responded by returning my hug.

"I pray to God that you are right, Hon. I want those boys so badly. I
want the family I never had. I want us to grow old watching our children
mature and prosper."

"Let's go," I urged him. "If God is as good as I know He is, then He
will be sure that you get your wish." We left together, hand in hand,
happy and hopeful.

-----------------------------

(Mrs. Crosby narrates)

I had called all the members of the committee to confirm Wednesday as the
day we would meet with Mr. Taylor and Mr. Kelly. Their attorney would let
us know the time and place on Monday. I began to think about the members
of the committee.

A good friend of mine, Marian Cantor, would be accepting of the couple if
she felt they were financially secure and would be willing to take all
three of the boys. It would be her responsibility to tell them why the
boys were up for adoption. Thank God I didn't have to do that.

Lawrence Bigotan would be a different story. I guessed he was homophobic.
He wouldn't accept two gay men adopting the boys. He would have many
other reasons, but I knew he hated gays and that would be his driving
force. Thankfully he had only one vote.

Sheila Devonsted was the youngest of the committee members. She had two
sons of her own. I sensed that she was contemporary and not bothered by
the two men being gay. She would be more interested in the boys'
well-being and that the couple was financially able to care for them.

Finally there was Richard Silverstone. He had been with the adoption
agency the longest of any of us. He was an older man, I would guess in
his seventies, but he was really living in the present and not in the
past. He had talked to me privately and informed me that he wanted to
keep the boys together. They didn't deserve any more trauma in their
young lives. If any couple couldn't or wouldn't take all three, then he
would vote against the adoption. I asked his opinion of same sex couples
adopting. He smiled at me and told me in a clear, firm voice that he
preferred that to keeping children in foster homes or institutions.

Their attorney had provided me with their financial situation. I would be
interested in what they themselves have to say about that. I also
wondered about housing arrangements. The meeting should be interesting.

----------------------

(Ryan narrates)

It took us only a few minutes to drive to the Inn. Bradford Inn was an
old colonial house situated just outside of town. It had gardens of
flowers and vegetables. The gardens were, of course, seasonal because of
the vagaries in New England weather. I knew the owner from being at the
Inn with Rog and Greg in the past. Conrad Gatson was a large man. He
stood six feet seven or eight inches tall. He had a very muscular body,
and he resembled a professional wrestler rather than a twenty-first
century innkeeper.

Everything in the inn had been carefully selected to add to the ambiance
of the place. It was tastefully Colonial and it was beautiful! Conrad had
never met Sean; in fact, it had been years since I had dined here. Rog
and Greg were already there, waiting in the car. As soon as we arrived,
they came to meet us.

"Welcome to our favorite restaurant," said a smiling Greg.

Rog, in his usual way, played down Greg's enthusiasm. He looked at me
and said,

"Ryan, keep Sean's feet on the ground. Greg gets a little carried away
when he talks about the Inn."

"You can be such an old sourpuss, Sweetheart. Nevertheless, I still love
you," chimed in Greg.

We were at the door, all laughing lightly, when Conrad opened the door
and welcomed us in. I could tell that Sean was impressed by Conrad's
size. I also noticed that Conrad was giving Sean the once over. He's not
gay that I know of, but he knows beauty when he sees it.

The Inn had various rooms, kept to maintain the charm of its previous
life. Conrad took us to a small side room with a lovely fireplace. There
were two tables in the room, one for four patrons and the other for two.
Conrad assured me that no one else would be in the room with us. It was
ours for as long as we needed it. We took our seats, and as he handed us
our menus, Conrad told us that our waiter would be with us shortly. As he
was leaving, Greg excused himself and went out after him.

Dour old Rog suggested, "Probably has to go to the bathroom."

I laughed as Sean took Rog's hand and asked him,

"Are you okay, Dr. Fillimore? Maybe you are tired and we shouldn't have
gone out to dinner tonight."

I could see Rog tense, but he smiled and told him that he wasn't tired.
He just was a little angry with Greg for being a lout. He began to laugh,
and then giggle. Sean joined him and so did I. When poor Greg came back
into the room, we were all laughing, then giggling until tears ran down
our faces. What a bunch of dorks!

Greg said nothing. He just sat and quietly watched us as we lost control
again. Finally Rog, a little irritated, asked,

"Aren't you going to ask what's so funny?"

"Nope."

That was too much for all of us and we began giggling like junior high
school girls and then laughing like half-drunk sailors. Greg had joined
in; it was contagious. When we finally stopped the silliness, no one
could remember why we were laughing. Good old Greg same through again,

"We're all a little tired from the busy weekend, but I think a better
explanation is that we're all crazy."

What saved us from the same thing again was the arrival of our waitress,
Hannah Chambers. She was an old-timer at the Inn, a robust smiling women
who loved her job. She made us all feel at home. Rog and Greg ordered
wine while Sean and I ordered soda and lemonade.

When the drinks came, conversation began to flow. Greg started it by
telling us that he had contacted the realtor who had the listing for the
house. He would show it to us on Tuesday as soon as I could get away from
State. Sean was uncharacteristically silent. I wondered what was wrong,
but I thought that now was not the time to ask. Rog wasn't thinking the
same as I was.

"What's the matter, Sean? You seem distracted or something," Rog
commented.

"It's nothing. It's just that I get uneasy about some things. I mean, I
worry that if we do too much, it will change our chances of adopting the
boys," he said quietly.

I reached for his hand and took in mine. He half smiled at me and there
was a hint of tears in his eyes. I softly said to him,

"We don't have to look at the house, Baby. If it will upset you, let's
just forget it."

Rog would have nothing to do with it. He said quickly and
dispassionately,

"I know it's none of my business, but I think that would be a mistake.
Sean, whether you look at the house or not, won't change how the
adoption comes out. It doesn't matter. One thing doesn't have anything
to do with the other. Looking at the house may help since you can tell
the committee about it."

Greg gave Rog a look that could kill and shook his head both in disgust
and anger for sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted.

I squeezed Sean's hand tightly and said,

"Baby, I think Rog has a point. We can't change our entire lives because
we want to adopt the boys. We have to be ourselves and live our lives.
It's that simple. Changing everything we do, or don't do, won't change
anything."

"I'm just a silly goose, aren't I? You know me, Ry, just a big
craphead."

I had to kiss him, so I left my place and went to him, bent down and
kissed him lightly on the top of his head, then whispering into his ear,

"Are you okay?"

"So fellows, you ready to order?" interrupted a smiling Hannah.

"I think we are, aren't we guys?" inquired a chastened Rog.

Greg was tapping his fingers on the table, a look of great disdain on his
face. He spit out,

"Sure, we're ready. Why wouldn't we be? If the master says we're
ready, then we're ready."

I had returned to my seat, and I could see that Sean was being made very
uncomfortable by the little squabble between Rog and Greg.

"Everyone, please. What Rog said to me was right. I'm glad it was said
because it helped me get my head on right. Miss, I'll have the onion
soup for my appetizer. I'd like the sirloin steak, medium rare with
French fries and a Caesar salad. What do you have for vegetables?" asked
Sean.

"Tonight we have steamed cauliflower and broccoli, roasted root
vegetables, Harvard beets, and French style green beans," replied Hannah.
Sean thought for a minute, and then added,

"I'd like two vegetables, the green beans and the roasted root
vegetables."

After he finished placing his order, we all ordered in turn. Hannah left
to get appetizers. Sean spoke again with certainty and firmness in his
voice,

"I'd like to see the house Monday afternoon. Can you arrange that,
Greg?" Then he stopped for a moment and I could tell he was thinking.

`I'm sorry, Ry, I should have asked you first. Is it okay with you?"

I smiled at him,

"It's fine with me, Baby. Can you arrange that, Greg?"

"Sure can. Don't worry; it's as good as done. Only thing is what time
is best for you two?" he asked.

"It's easier for me if it's after one in the afternoon. That's when my
last class finishes," I told him.

Sean chimed in, "That's fine with me as I don't have any class tomorrow
afternoon. I would normally practice piano, but I know you won't mind me
missing it will you, Dr. Fillimore?"

"That's no problem, Sean. I think a break from practicing would be good
for you. Don't worry about it."

Greg laughed, "Then it's settled. I'll make the arrangements, and if any
problems arise, I'll let you know.?

Hannah appeared carrying a large tray. She set it down on a folding tray
stand. "Now, let's see. You, young man get the onion soup, right?"

"Right," answered Sean. Shortly we were all enjoying our appetizers, and
for a while conversation stopped. I felt Sean's foot rubbing up my leg,
and I smiled to myself as I realized that he had slipped off his loafer
and was massaging my leg with his sock-covered foot. I was getting
stimulated and he knew it. He smiled a silly smile at me and said,

"Is it hot in here, Ry? Or is it just a result of eating this very warm
soup?"

I knew that I blushed, but just answered him quickly as now his foot was
rubbing on my growing erection.

"It seems warm in here to me, too. Do you guys think it's hot in here?"
I asked Rog and Greg.

Greg seldom missed anything, and he leaned into Rog and whispered
something into his ear. Then he cleared his voice and with a guttural
laugh, he said,

"It's probably not as hot in here for Rog and me, Ry. You see, Sean
isn't rubbing his foot on our private parts."

Sean almost choked on his soup, and I reddened to the point I am sure I
looked as if I had been in the sun for hours. At first I didn't know
what to say, but suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted to reply,

"It's your loss that you don't have Sean. You see he takes great
pleasure in giving me pleasure and I do the same for him. As long as they
know, Baby, you don't have to stop. They're just jealous."

There was much laughter at the table. Sean didn't stop, but got bolder,
pushing his foot deeper into my crotch. I was just about to warn him to
be careful when he pushed too hard and tipped backward, ass over
teakettle, landing on top of the chair on his back. Conrad was in the
room almost immediately.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen," he asked with genuine concern in his
voice.

Sean answered for all of us when he told Conrad,

"There's not problem, sir. I was just showing everyone one of my
talents. I got a little carried away and tipped myself over. I'm fine. I
plan to show Ry the rest of my talent later when we get home. He's aware
of some of it, but I`ve expanded my repertoire."

"Good, good; that's fine. Everyone is okay. Good, good. Enjoy your
dinner," he said as he turned and left the room.

No one said anything for a minute of two. Greg started laughing, soon
joined by all of us.

"What an answer that was, Sean," said Rog.

"Absolutely!" added Greg.

"And I, Baby, will be anticipating having a demonstration of your latest
talents. I expect something exciting and wonderful."

Sean smiled, leaned to me and said,

"Hon, I'll knock your socks off. Just you wait."

Wait I did, and I lost my socks among other articles of clothing.

(To be continued)

If you wish to comment on the story, you may email me at
niki200sc@yahoo.com.