THE VOYAGE OF THE GAYFLOWER
by:
Will B
(Copyright
2007 by the Author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Part 1, 2
I am pleased to dedicate this story to Gerry Young whose stories I have enjoyed, whose e mails have always brightened my day, and whose sense of humor is wicked. I hope he likes this story.
Introduction: Certain historical personages actually lived, and many dates are dates of actual events. The Gayflower and its crew are the products of my imagination, although some of the names and events may reflect an earlier writing.
Our story opens in a modest cabin in a clearing on the edge of a vast forest. A handsome young man is sitting at a table. The only furniture in the one-room dwelling are a table, three chairs, a stool, a large feather bed and the hangings around the bed. Heat is provided by a large fireplace, which is where the food is prepared. The cooking utensils are hanging over the fireplace. The year is 1621.
“Hello. Come in and make yourself comfortable,” the young man said. “My name is John Allding. My friend is out hunting. We don’t get many visitors, so we are always glad to see company.”
“What? Oh, you want to know how we come to be here? Well, it started in England, back in 1603. I’m now 26, and that year I was eight. Our beloved Queen Bess had died, and her cousin, James of Scotland was the new King of England. Funny, now that you mention it, he was James VI of Scotland, but only James I of England.”
“Yes, he did have another name, or nickname—he was known as the “Hottie Scottie.” He had been crowned with the crown of Scotland at the age of one year or so, after the death of his mother, Mary Stuart, and he had been crowned with the Crown of St. Edward in Westminster Abbey in 1603, but he had another crown that he wore all the time, and it was the one of which he was proudest. He carried at the end of his personal “scepter,” six inches long, sometimes when he was in a royal mood it was seven inches long, and protected by a long hood.”
“Oh, you ask how I know all these personal details? I’ll tell you. Our Jamie was a bit of a lad and he certainly had an eye for the lads in two kingdoms. He would wield his “royal scepter” whenever and wherever he wished. Since he believed in the divine right of kings, and was head of the Church of England, who would dare to criticize him?”
“He had several well-known male favorites, including the Duke of Buckingham, but he had two less well-known bed buddies: Sir Lancelot Quivering and Sir Percy Hotstaff. In addition to helping the King by pleasuring him, their job was to make periodic tours of London and the Home Counties, and search out likely lads to come to Whitehall Palace or Windsor to meet the King and enjoy the royal favor.”
“Did you know that Whitehall Palace was originally called York Place, and had been owned by Thomas Wesley, Cardinal and Archbishop of York, until Henry VIII took it from him in 1529 and named it Whitehall? I know all this history because my former master Ted Walker had worked with John Stow when he published his Survey of London in 1598.”
“Oh, yes, His Majesty was married, to Anne of Denmark, and the couple had produced a number of children, only four of whom lived beyond childhood. What’s that? How did he . . . if he . . .? Rumor has it that he just closed his eyes and thought of England.”
“Anyhow, one day in 1612, when I was seventeen, and working in the printer’s shop where I was apprenticed, Sir Lancelot Quivering came into the shop and had a few words with my master. They called me over to where they were talking, and my master said, ‘John, how would you like to go with Sir Lancelot and meet the King?’”
“Well, friends, I was gobsmacked. Meet the King? Me? What lusty lad wouldn’t like to meet the King?”
“Ted told me that Sir Lancelot had given him enough gold to pay for my release me from my indentures, and there was a purse of gold for me, enough for me to get some new clothes suitable for me to wear to the royal court, with some gold left over.”
“I was confused, and torn between two loyalties. On the one hand I wanted to see something of the world, but on the other, I owed loyalty and, yes, love, to Ted. He was 50 and still good-looking with salt and pepper hair. He had taken me into his house when my parents died, and had me registered at the Guild Hall (begun in 1411 and where the various courts of our fair City of London met) as his apprentice. On my sixteenth birthday we had become lovers. This kind and gentle man had loved me, given me a home, and taught me a trade. What was I to do?”
“Ted made the decision for me. He told me that I could always come back to his house if I wanted to. He took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly. I have to say, I was near to tears, and I know Ted was also. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘Meet the King and have all kinds of adventures. I’ll be waiting here to hear all about them. God bless you, my boy.’”
“As we left the shop, Lancelot took my arm in his. ‘Now Master John, we are going to get you some new clothes, and prepare you to meet His Majesty.’ He took me to a tailor’s shop and had me measured for three, THREE, new suits of the finest wool. Me, who had barely had two shirts and two pair of stockings. I felt like the richest man in the world!”
“After arranging for our purchases to be delivered, he took me to his rooms in Whitehall Palace, where his companion, Sir Percy Hotstaff, was waiting.”
“I see you have brought a new lad for the King,” Sir Percy said. “Well, let’s see how he measures up. Young man, would you kindly divest your self of your clothes while Lance and I check you out?”
“I stripped, and then I felt Lance running his hands all over my body. I felt his hands run up the back of my legs, which were covered with fine hair. I felt his hands caressing my arse cheeks. Then Percy had his hands on my manhood, stroking, and feeling it, while Lance put his hands on my chest and began to explore my teats.”
“I was getting more and more aroused, Lance said, ‘I think the King will like him.’”
“Percy said, ‘Now let’s see if you know how to use your lips to pleasure the King.’ They instructed me on how to treat the royal “scepter,” if it should be presented to me. They taught me how to use my arse to pleasure another man.”
“Finally, Lancelot said, ‘It may be that the king would like you to ride him, so let us see if you can do that.’”
“This I felt confident about because Ted and I had . . . well, you know.”
“I enjoyed two days of much sexual activity, two days of enjoyable bliss, and rigorous coaching in court etiquette. Lance and Percy declared I was ready to be presented at court, but Lance warned me, saying, ‘James is a generous lover, but he does not often stay with one person very long. You will know when the King has decided to move on to another lover. The thing to remember is that he is the King, and you should accept his decisions graciously. You will not be sorry if you remember this.’”
“One evening I was dressed in one of my new suits and escorted to the King’s private chambers. When we entered, Lance, Percy and I each went down on one knee, and the King came toward us. In his middle years he was tall and handsome, and he had a warm smile on his face. Lancelot spoke, ‘Your Majesty, may I present John Allding who has come to pay his respects?’”
“Rise, gentlemen. Master Allding, we welcome you to our court. May your stay be a pleasant one. Lance and Percy, you have our leave to withdraw.”
“Percy and Lance rose, bowed and backed toward the door, and left. I was alone with the King.”
“James took me by the hand and led me to a table set with all kinds of food and wines. ‘Please, Master Allding, take some refreshment.’”
“The King was wearing a long white robe, like an open fronted nightshirt, but made of finest silk, with a cord that tied it shut. As I sipped a glass of canary wine, the King said, ‘John, while we are alone, call me Jamie, not Sire, not your Majesty, just Jamie.’”
“’Very well,’ I said. The wine was going to my head and I was feeling very relaxed, and excited at the same time. Jamie began to unbutton my shirt. I had on a white shirt. I had a sleeveless coat of red cloth. My breeches were blue, with a gold and blue codpiece, and my hose were fawn yellow.”
“Why don’t you take your coat off and your shirt too? It is very warm in here,’ whispered Jamie as he began to run his hands over my shoulders and my chest.”
“It is warm, Jamie, and your hands are making me feel even warmer. In fact I am getting hot.”
“That’s the idea, to make you hot, John.”
“Jamie began to kiss my ears, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, and my chest. His tongue flickered over my nipples, which by now were hard and standing away from my chest. My manhood was also standing straight and tall.”
“’Do you like what my tongue is doing to you? Would you do the same for me?’ Jamie asked. With that he untied the cord at his waist and stepped out of his robe. He was completely naked except for a small breechclout, which barely held in his manhood.”
“The king, Jamie, I should say, was six feet tall, with reddish blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders, with a muscular chest. His stomach was beginning to show some thickening, but all in all, he was a handsome man. I almost salivated as I contemplated his manly build, the light blond hair that covered his chest and abdomen. His legs were sturdy. He needed no padding in his hose to build up his calves.”
“I began to kiss him on the face, on the neck, and the chest. I sucked on the royal nipples, and I ran my hands up and down his sides, and his abdomen. Jamie’s hands were also busy, loosening my breeches so I could step out of them. He untied the cords that held my hose on and he helped me step out of them.”
“Johnny, I want to pull your cod-piece off and I would ask you to help me rid myself of this breech clout.”
“I did as he asked and now we were completely naked, completely aroused, and completely lost in the passion of the moment.”
“Our hands were all over each other, our lips were kissing and sucking whatever was handy, and when we kissed our tongues danced in and out of each other’s mouths, tasting, savoring, each other. Our hands cupped each other’s buttocks, pulling our rigid manhoods into each other, our fingers were stroking the other person’s penis and balls. “
“Suddenly Jamie stopped and held me a little distance away from his body.”
“John, my dear heart, I want to take your penis into my mouth and take your seed into me. There is something else I would ask, but I don’t know if . . .”
“’Ask me, Jamie. Ask me, I think I would grant any boon you craved,’ I replied.”
“When I was in Scotland, a visiting French courtier told me of a way to two men could pleasure each other at the same time.”
“Tell me, Jamie. What is it?”
“The courtier called it soixante-neuf. In this sport, we each lie on our sides, head to toe, and we each take the other’s male organ into our mouths. Would you like to try it?”
“Sweet Jamie, of course I would. Shall we do it on the floor in front of the fire?”
“I think we would be more comfortable on the bed, Johnny.”
“Jamie picked me up and carried me into the next room, and gently laid me on the bed. He lay down facing me, with his head directly facing my crotch.”
“Slowly, we approached each other, and gently we took each other’s most precious organ into our mouths.”
“Words cannot describe the bliss, the joy, the pleasure, the sensations we experienced. Nothing I had done with my master Ted, or with Lancelot or Percy could begin to compare with this union of Jamie’s and my bodies and hearts, and souls.”
The days turned into weeks and the weeks became months. Jamie and I continued in our love making, as passionate as ever, but our relationship was changing as I suppose all relationships do. After our lovemaking, Jamie and I would talk. He would tell me about his pride in having convened a group of scholars who had studied ancient texts and were producing a new English translation of the Bible. I told him how happy I had been with my printing master and first lover, Ted Walker. He shared with me his feelings of nervousness when the plot of Guy Fawkes to blow up the Houses of Parliament had been discovered. I told him of my desire to travel and see new lands.
Jamie was a thoughtful lover. He made sure that we both enjoyed our lovemaking to the fullest. If we played soixante-neuf, or “sixty-nine” as we called it, he taught me how to control my “seed shooting” until we were both ready to ejaculate into each other’s mouths at the same time.
If we played “Ride the Stallion,” he would be sure that I mounted him as often as he would mount me. I learned that giving pleasure to my lover increased my own pleasure.
Jamie was thoughtful and generous in other ways too. He encouraged me to visit Ted at least once every two weeks. He told me that if, during these visits, Ted and I wanted to pleasure each other, he would not mind. He told some of his ministers that if any government forms had to be printed, they should send at least some of the business to Ted Walker’s print shop.
One day when I arrived at the royal apartments, I found Jamie dressed as the King. He was dressed in velvet robes, and wore the collar of the Order of the Garter over them, which made him look resplendent. As I knelt to make my obeisance, he raised me and pulled me into his arms and kissed me tenderly.
“John, it is time for us to part. Affairs of state call me to Scotland, and I have to go. I will think of you often, and I will remember the tender loving times we have enjoyed with each other. If I were not king, and if I were twenty years younger. . . “
“Jamie, Your Majesty, I always knew this day might come. I can only thank you for your love, tenderness, and many acts of kindness. God bless you, Your . . .” Here I had to break royal etiquette and turn my back on the King, because I did not want him to see the tears in my eyes.
The king (I could no longer think of him as just Jamie) came up behind me and turned me back to face me. I saw tears in his eyes, too. “John, I have some gifts for you. First of all, I have ordered that a pension of £25 a year be paid to Ted Walker. Second of all, I am pleased to grant to you, the Manor of Longfellow, in the parish of Wadsworth St. Henry, in the County of Kent, which will bring in an income of approximately £20 a year. There is a very able steward there who will watch over it whenever you are not there.”
“Oh, Sire, I. . ..”
“No, John, I told you that when we are together, I am just plain Jamie. Now I have another offer to make you, if you wish to accept. You have told me that you wanted to travel. I have procured a ship, the Gayflower, and the services of a Captain Myles Mandish. He is to sail to the coast of America, in the New World, and establish a colony. He needs a secretary because most of the members of his crew will be illiterate. The position is yours if you want it.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me was grieving at the thought of parting from Jamie. Part of me was grateful for the grant of the Manor, so that now I would be ranked among the landed gentry. Another part of me was excited at the chance if traveling and seeing new places.
I faced the king, stood tall, and said, “Jamie, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you have done. I accept your offer.”
“Good for you, John. You are to meet Captain Mandish in a week’s time. I am leaving for Scotland later this afternoon, after I go to Parliament and tell them what laws I want passed. You can have this week to visit with Master Walker, and perhaps visit your manor for a few days. And since it would be insulting to offer you gold, but I want you to take this purse as a gift from me, and use it to buy whatever comforts or necessities Master Walker might need. . . . and God bless you, John. Oh, I do have a little something else for you. When you leave Whitehall Palace, you will be riding a new horse. After all, a lord of a manor needs to have a suitable mount.”
Again we hugged, and then we parted.
I spent two days with Ted. He was very happy for me, although he knew it might be years before we met again. We showed our love for each other quite often, and if our lovemaking was not as tempestuous as Jamie’s and my sportings, there was an element of sweet tenderness that made it so much more meaningful.
I rode my horse, which I had named Foxfire, to my manor. I was pleased that the steward, whose name was Paul Johnson, was a capable man. The house was in good repair and had been newly painted. The houses of the tenants were well-built and weather tight. I knew I could leave the manor Master Johnson’s hands and not worry about it.
I rode to London to meet my new employer, Captain Myles Mandish. He was a tall man in his 40s, with dark brown hair with just a touch of gray at his temples. He had a military bearing, and we were to share a cabin. I had ample opportunity to observe his muscular body, his manly chest, and his generous endowment. For some reason, I did not feel any burning in my loins when we were alone, and that was probably just as well, since he was the employer and I the employee.
The crew of the Gayflower was made up of men mostly in their 20s and 30s who knew their job, and who were, on the whole, a happy and friendly lot. I didn’t have much opportunity to talk to them, as they had their duties and I had mine. I was expected to keep the ship’s log (the entries were dictated by Captain Myles), and when we sighted land I would be expected to record any observations of plant and animal life.
The one member of the crew I did see frequently was the first mate, one Peter Mulligan. He was about my height, 5’10, and in his late 20s. He had reddish blond hair, broad shoulders and a slim waist. The crew often went about their duties with their shirts off, and I noted that he had only a fine smattering of hair on his chest and abdomen. His nipples were brown with an aureole about the size of a shilling coin. He had had a good education and when our duties permitted we would spend some time discussing the writers of our day and those of the reign of the great Queen Bess. Spencer, Ben Johnson, and Shakespeare were all discussed. The Captain sometimes joined us in these literary discussions.
We had been at sea for about six weeks, and one day there was no wind, so the ship was still in the water. The Captain gave orders that half of the crew could go swimming from two bells to three bells, and the other half could go from three bells to four bells. The crew members who were not in the water were to act as lookouts, trying to spy whales, sharks, or any sea monsters.
Peter and I were to go into the water with the first crew. Naturally we all went into the water completely naked, and I had ample opportunity to observe the crew (they were part of the animal life after all). Peter had an attractive patch of hair growing from his navel down to his crotch, and his manhood was impressive, to say the least. His arse was smooth and hairless, and I found myself thinking . . . “No, John, I told myself, control yourself. He is handsome, and I know you want to . . . “ That time I was able to control myself, but my urgings were not helped by the fact that I thought I had noticed Peter observing me with a kind of half smile!”
We had continued on our voyage for another seven weeks, before we sighted land. Captain Mandish bade me record in the log that, by his calculations, we were about 200 miles south of the Virginia Colony at Jamestown. We found a spot where a hook of land formed a natural harbor, and there was a river flowing down to the sea. I went ashore in a boat with Peter and four crew members, all strong fellows, who could row the boat.
We landed, and followed the river a mile upstream where we found a large lake, fed by two other streams. This lake would make a good site for our camp, and we could dig the latrines downstream from the lake.
It was a hot day, and we decided we would cool ourselves in the lake before returning to the ship. We took off our clothes, and washed them as best we could and hung them on bushes to dry while we went into the water. The weeks at sea had taken away any excess fat on our bodies, and all of us were lean and very good looking. The water was cooling and we relaxed and talked about this new land and relaxed some more. After about half an hour I noticed two of the crew members get out of the water and walk off into the bushes. Then the other two crewmen did the same thing.
Peter looked at me, and smiled and raised his eyebrow. “Well, John, would you like to explore a little farther inland? We might observe some interesting plant or animal life,” Peter asked, again with that little half smile.
“Oh, God, I was so tempted. I felt my male organ begin to rise to the occasion, but I wasn’t sure . . . I wondered what it would be like to . . . hold him in my arms, and taste his sweet kisses, but . . .”
“I looked at Peter. “We are officers of the ship, and I think we must call the men and get back to the ship. We must conduct ourselves like officers and gentlemen.”
He looked at me and sighed, and said, “I guess you’re right, John, but. . .”
I almost gave into my urges. I wanted to take Peter into my arms, kiss him, and then explore his body with my lips, my tongue, my . . . Well, I think I might have succumbed even then, but just then a blast from the ship’s trumpet warned us that it was time to get back to the ship for the night.
In the next few weeks, we all worked to build a large cabin on the side of the lake. It was large enough for the entire crew to sleep in, although some of the crew stayed on board each night.
Captain Mandish was a genius at organizing the labor. He never shouted, never cursed, never lost his temper. Each morning he would have the entire crew gather together for morning prayers, breakfast, and he would assign the duties of the day. Some men were sent to hunt for food. Some were sent to work building our shelter. My duties were to keep track of who brought in what food, and how the work was progressing. The captain knew what each man’s talents were and he tried to assign them jobs that were in keeping with their abilities. I had come to admire and respect Captain Mandish.
One morning, about a month after we had landed, and the large house was almost completed, we were astonished to see a group of men come out of the woods. They were tall, with bronzed skins, and they were completely naked. As they neared us we were even more astonished to note that they seemed to have no hair on their bodies below their cheek bones.
They walked toward us, tall and proud, and in their hands they were carrying food—birds, rabbits, and what we later learned were groundhogs. One man walked a little ahead of the others and solemnly said, “Greetings. We come in peace. We greet you. We bring food.”
“You speak English?” I stammered out.
“I spend time with other white men in “Gina” Colony and learn some English. My name Patatomac. We bring gifts of food.” I realized he meant the Virginia Colony, and I smiled and said “My name is John Allding.”
Captain Mandish came forward, and introduced himself. “We welcome you, and we appreciate your kindness in bringing food. Will you join us for a meal? We have plenty.”
Patatomac replied, “That would be good. Great Spirit in Sky glad to see that white men and people of our tribe can live in peace.”
And so began the first of many meals shared by our crew and the visitors, although I guess we were the visitors. The Indians were interested in our wood-working tools, and we were interested in their skill in using spears to catch fish. We agreed that we and they would alternate the days we would fish in the lake. In that way, there would always be plenty of fish for everyone.
I must tell you about a strange and exciting ceremony we were invited to visit. One day Patatomac spoke to Captain Mandish and told him that the hunting season was soon to begin, and the men had a ceremony that they believed would bring them luck in the hunt. We were invited to come to their village about dusk the next night. All would be welcome.
The next evening one of the Indians led us to their village. We all went, Captain Mandish, Peter, half the crew and me. The other half of the crew had to stay aboard the Gayflower. They were not too happy about it, but Captain Mandish cheered them up somewhat when he said they could have two extra rations of rum.
We were led to a village and invited to sit in a semi-circle some distance from a large fire. Twelve tall, strong, and well endowed naked Indian men came into the circle. Six wore bracelets of leather on their wrists; the other six did not. The twelve men formed a circle with the braves with leather wrists alternating with the braves with bare wrists.
On an invisible signal, drums started a slow beating, and the men began to move in a circle around the fire. The drums began to beat a little faster, and the bare wrists (I’ll call them the B’s) squatted on the ground, and the cuffed wrists (The C’s) sort of leapfrogged over them and then squatted in front of them. Now the B’s leaped over the C’s and squatted.
The firelight flickering on the naked bodies was enthralling to watch.
The drums quickened the rhythm, and when the music stopped which ever team was standing bent over and . . . I could hardly believe my eyes! Those standing knelt over the
squatters and mounted them. I mean they penetrated the arses of the men who were squatting! The drums started again, and the men on top withdrew and the leapfrogging began again. When the drums stopped, again whichever team was on top mounted their partner.
There was a beauty and symmetry to this that far surpassed the dancing I had seen in some of the masques at the King’s Court.
On and on—leapfrog, penetrate, leapfrog, penetrate, leapfrog. When one of the dancers would finally ejaculate, he and his partner would drop out of the dance. Patatomac explained quietly that the Indians believed that a hunter would capture as many deer or bears as the number of men he had penetrated before spilling his seed. Whoever lasted the longest would be the greatest hunter of the tribe that season.
The music, the firelight, the twisting bodies, and the chanting were having an effect on the spectators. I wanted to take Peter and join in the dance. I didn’t care who would penetrate the other. I just wanted to possess him and have him possess me. I think the only reason I didn’t was because I was afraid our hosts would be offended if we tried to take part in their ceremony.
Finally one Indian brave was the victor. He had penetrated more men than any of his fellow tribe members. There was much cheering and thumping of hands to show approval.
Suddenly everyone grew quiet. Patatomac brought the victor over to us, and they stopped in front of me.
The victor said something in his native language and Patatomac translated, “Winner of the contest wishes to say that you (he was talking to me) are known to be wise and gentle. You can write words on paper, and you are friendly to all. He wishes to know if you would let him drink your seed so that he will increase in wisdom and gentleness. In return he is willing for you to drink his seed so that you will increase your skill as a hunter.”
I was stunned. I realized that I had just been paid a great compliment, and then I realized that my companions were cheering me, and urging me to “go for it!” Captain Mandish spoke into my ear, “Can you do this, John? It would do much increase the friendship between our two cultures.”
Finally, I realized that my manhood had answered for me. I was erect and beginning to leak the white syrup that preceded my ejaculation. I stood up and told Patatomac that I was willing. The whole assembled group of Englishmen and Indians, was cheering the two of us, as Patatomac led us to a space in front of the fire where we would publicly share our seed with each other. Only one thing married this moment of triumph. I looked at Peter and saw that he was cheering us but he had a wistful expression on his face as if he were wishing that it were he and I. And, to tell you the truth, I was wishing the same thing!
* * * * *
A few weeks after the hunting ceremony, Captain Mandish called me to his cabin on the Gayflower. “John, I have two tasks for you. One is official, but the other is personal, and requires a person who can be persuasive in his dealing with others, But first I want to commend you for the outstanding job you have done as my secretary. I am taking the Gayflower back to England, to pick up supplies, and to report to the King. The Reports and Journals you prepared cannot help but please His Majesty. While I am gone, I am appointing you as Lieutenant Governor in my absence.”
“I . . .I.. . . don’t know what to say, sir. It’s a great honor. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will, John. In a little while I will call a meeting of the crew and tell them of my decision. Now, for the second task. John, I want to take Peter back with me as my first mate, but more than that I want to take him back as my mate. He is a handsome man, but more than that he is intelligent, and charming, and caring, and I want him by my side, day and night, but I don’t know how to approach him.”
Well, friends, as you can guess, my mind was in a turmoil. My captain, who I honored and respected, was asking me to approach the one person I felt I could not live without. What was I to do? What should I do?
Sensing my hesitation, Captain Mandish said, “John, I know this is a bit unusual. Just do your best. If he says no, I will understand, and there will be absolutely no hard feelings on my part. But, please, try.”
“Very well, sir, I will do as you ask.” Squaring my shoulders, I turned and went out the door. I found Peter at the lake, washing some of his clothes. He was wearing only a breech clout, and oh, dear God, he looked so handsome standing there, I thought I would never be able to do as the Captain wanted.
Finally, I was able to say, “Peter, Captain Mandish has sent me with a request.”
“What’s that, friend, what does the Captain want?”
“He’s going back to England, and he wants to take you back as first mate, and also as his . . . mate!”
“No, absolutely not!”
“Listen, Peter, he’s a kind generous man, and warm-hearted too. He would see that you are happy . . . and . . . won’t you try . . .?”
I almost broke down, when something wonderful happened. Peter came to me, and ut his hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said.
“WHY” (He kissed me.) “DON’T” (He kissed me again) “YOU” (He pulled me to him in an embrace.) “SPEAK” (There was another kiss) “FOR YOURSELF” (Still another kiss, and his tongue was dancing across my lips and teeth, trying to invade my mouth—and I was not resisting!) “JOHN?”
* * * * *
Peter and I have been together ever since then. We love each other and every day our love seems to grow. Listen, he’s gone down to the shore to meet the Gayflower. We’ll be having dinner as soon as he returns.
I think I hear him now.
“Honey, I’m back, and I’ve brought company for dinner.”
“Bring them in. Patatomac and his friends are here and they’ve brought enough food for us to have a feast.”
“Peter, who is with you? Oh, hello, Captain Mandish, and who is that with you? Oh, Sweet Lord, it’s Ted. Ted, it’s so good to see you.”
“John, Peter, we have some news. First, you should know,” said Captain Mandish, “That the King was so pleased with your reports that he has confirmed me as Governor of the colony, and he has confirmed you as Lieutenant Governor. Second, The King feels that this colony is going to prosper. New settlers will be arriving, men with wives and families, and the colony needs an official printer. He has appointed Ted Walker as Official Printer to the colony. Finally, please, John and Peter, be happy for us, Ted and I are . . , well, we re going to be setting up housekeeping together.”
I was so happy I was speechless. I hugged Myles and Ted, Peter hugged Myles and Ted, and then Patatomac said “I think we have much to be thankful for at this feast.
The End.
Enjoy!
Author’s note: So here you have the story of another early Thanksgiving dinner. I am not an expert on Indian affairs, so if I have unwittingly offended any of the first inhabitants of this great land of ours, I apologize. I hope my readers will like this story, but mainly I hope Gerry likes it. Will B.
Comments by the assistant or whatever or our author chooses to call me. After the pre hunting ceremony, I guess the colonists and the Native Americans can be more than just friends. I am so glad to see that my Granddaddy finally found some to love and take care of him. I am just surprised that Patatomac wasn’t called Sweet Potato. I know what our author is planning for Christmas. I guess we need to get him off the couch and get him working on the story for Valentine’s Day and St Patrick’s Day. E (Watch out Will, I will get revenge in my story somehow.) E
Author: Now I am worried. E will get his gang, Ben, Grant, Tip, Ty, Beau, and all their friends to gang up on me. What shall I do? Where can I go? I know! I’ll hide in my study and work on another story!
Posted: 11/16/07