Brothers in Arms Ch. 05

Prest's hands massaged downward, working the muscles of Sean's firm ass cheeks. He drew a sharp intake of breath from Sean, "ussh," when his fingers ran up and down between those cheeks. Pausing first to work up a lather of the sweetly scented soap, Prest went on. Sean screamed "OH" as Prest began to wash the first several inches inside Sean's anal canal, using first one soapy finger, and then two, moving them quickly in and out and round and round.

Prest stepped back one step. "Turn around," he commanded. He spent considerable time 'soaping' Sean's chest and nipples, his underarms. Now he began the serious work or laving Sean's cock and balls. He pushed back Sean's foreskin, then pulled it forward over a soapy finger, washing the inside of Sean's foreskin, then retracted it tightly to stroke firmly with his other soap filled fist. He carefully washed each of Sean's balls, stretching the wrinkly skin to minister to every inch. He poured two bucketsful of clear hot water over Sean, using his fingers to make sure the clear water got to all those soapy places, inside and out. He took one of the large fluffy towels Cassandra had left, took Sean by the hand and lead him to stand before the fireplace, and slowly and lovingly dried off his entire body.

Now a kind of battle began. Sean, now so clean and fresh smelling, was aware of the days-old odor of his friend's body as perhaps he had never been before. But far from repelling him, the foetid stench of Prest's old sweat and old cum and old urine and, yes, even the faint odor of his lover's ass, brought back all those days and nights in makeshift shelters and caves and on muddy river banks; those fevered nights in Mrs. Reagan's hayloft; those frigid nights joined together in a single bedroll. He grabbed Prest roughly by the shoulders yanked their bodies tight together, and began to kiss him harshly, as if trying to devour his lips, his tongue, his face.

Neither boy had had a chance to shave recently, so their beards were rough as sandpaper on each others faces. Prest, the fairer one, had sensitive skin and the frisson of Sean's beard chaffed his tender face until it blazed like fire.

Prest, in his own stead,was mightily turned on, his cock painfully stiff from all the tender attention he had already given Sean. But he wanted more, was not about to give up the struggle. He held Sean's hands down to his side, struggling, and forced him back onto the bed, throwing himself atop Sean's writhing body. Pinning Sean's wrists to the bed, he went to work immediately, his tongue lapping, teeth nipping. With his teeth, he pulled at the tiny hairs around Sean's nipples then twirled each hard nub between his teeth, biting down lightly, moving to nip Sean's neck, his cheeks his ears, traveling down, planting tiny bites of painful pleasure across Sean's belly down his legs and up the inside of his thighs, stopping just short of his cock, avoiding his balls.

Sean moaned and thrashed under Preston's ministrations. His massive cock, standing straight and tall and stiff, was leaking copious amounts of clear fluid onto His belly, balls, and thighs. The fat head of his cock pushed back its wrinkled foreskin by the sheer power of its growth, until it curled around the base of his cock head like a large brown wrinkled collar.

Prest forcibly turned Sean onto his stomach. Without warning he dove his face into Sean's ass crack. His tongue lashed at Sean's freshly washed hole, flicking and circling and alternately poking inside. Sean squirmed and moaned and thrashed about at this all-new sensation. Preston reached beneath Sean and grasped his huge cock, drawing it under and back. And now he began to alternate, licking and sucking first Sean's tender ass hole, then his plump cock head, back and forth, back and forth until Sean was nearly mad with the tension.

There was only a short pause while Prest adjusted, kneeling behind Sean, placing one arm under his belly and using his knees to lever Sean to a kneeling position. Using his hand to guide him, he immediately penetrated Sean, driving his slim, pink, iron-hard penis deep in one thrust. Over and over he slammed into Sean's tight tender anus, rolling toward impending release.

After many, many deep thrusts slammed into that secret place deep inside him, Sean suddenly pulled away, Preston's cock making a loud sound as it popped out past his anal ring. He swung around, took Preston down as if they were wrestling, and threw himself full length atop the smaller boy. Smothering his face with kisses, his neck and ears with tiny nibbles and bites. He hooked both arms under Preston's knees drawing them up and back, rotating Prest's pink puckered ring upward. His massive cock head bounced and throbbed at Prest's tender opening. "Oh yes! Oh god yes," Preston screamed as Sean thrust strongly forward popping past the tight anal ring! Preston tried to protest. His plan had been to take Sean first and then surrender himself totally to the other, but Sean was having none of it. He was determined to establish himself as the dominant sexual force in Preston's life.

"Look in my eyes," he commanded as he drove fully and deeply into Prest's bowels. "Look!"

Preston saw deep hunger, a raw power stronger than need, stronger than any resistance. And yet, Sean's eyes burned with a desire that could only be based in love. Prest found himself once again, in complete thrall to the older boy. In life he may be strong, a killer, a gunfighter. But in bed his body, his heart, his very soul belonged to Sean. Only to Sean! And as the older, heavier boy pounded and pounded his massive cock against that inner secret place deep within him, he began once again to lose himself, to experience the completeness of pleasure, of fulfillment, of joy, borne only of complete and total surrender. He melted into the mattress completely, all his body loose and giving, his anus spread wide and relaxed to receive the almost violent onslaught of Sean's impossibly huge manhood. And he knew, that his person, his full manhood, his completeness, came only from his devotion, his surrender to his beloved.

Sean pulled out temporarily, then flipped Preston over, flattening him against the mattress and driving down, down, down, the invading penis large and hard and relentless against his prostate until he screamed out his release into the night and spent his seed over and over against the bedcovers below. His clutching anus caused Sean to explode deep within him, both boy's minds totally blank, their eyes full of exploding fireworks, their egos gone, their identities melded into one being.

It was nearly an hour before the two recovered consciousness, Sean's hardness slowly ebbing, his huge manhood slowly slipping from Preston's anus. They smiled and snuggled and kissed one another before spending the night nestled like spoons in a drawer.

At eight, Cassandra awakened them by knocking softly. As they drifted up from slumber, both became aware of their intense hot sex smell that filled the room, aware that the young mulatto girl could probably smell them too. They were reconciled that some persons would of necessity share the secret of their intimate union. They spoke softly to one another, promising to be cautious, to take care that personal information not be too widely spread.

By ten they were ready to meet again with L'il Mike. "Don't say anything to Mike until I finish talking first, OK, Sean requested. "I have just had a great idea,"

Once the boy's were in Mike's presence, Sean waited to let the large Negro speak first.

"Have you boys decided," Mike asked?

"We have a counter proposal," Mike answered. "Suppose we keep the money the same, but me and Preston here, set ourselves up as a private company, say S&P protection services? Then no one can say we work for you, only that you hired our company, very business like. I think we could work much more effectively on your behalf if other whites thought we were just in business, doing our business, especially if we also had white customers. We would be careful not to hire out to any two interests who might be judged a conflict of interests. If you set us up,we might even be willing to kick you back a certain percent from any other business we might garner."

Li'l Mike chuckled. "You sir have a very devious mind. I like the way you think. What you propose might actually work better than what I had proposed. However, and this requirement must be solid and unequivocal. My own personal safety and the personal safety of certain others I might designate, must be foremost. I live in constant fear that white persons might kill me or kidnap and enslave me. This is my primary concern, and must be yours."

Sean looked to Preston, who stood to his right and had remained silent until now. "Prest, think long and hard, and if you can, give the man your word of honor. Look at me. Don't do this lightly, our lives could depend on this and, obviously, the lives of others. We might end up hated by every white person in this city. Also we will have to be very careful not to give anyone any further ammunition with which to destroy us."

"Well, wha'd'ya thank?"

"I am prepared to give my word of honor, in all that I might do. But as for the protection part, you are the one with the gun and the know how. I would be setting up the business, doing the planning and organization and so on. You would be the one who might face death every day!"

"Hmm, wall, Ah ain't got no other job and ain't likely ta get one. Kin ya'll give me a better idee what ya'll might be axing me ta do?

"Well, protect me and a few others like little Cassandra, for instance, if anyone wishes to harm us or capture us. Also from time to time there might be a few individuals, and some shipments of gold or money or people for you to guard safely to their destination, say Chicago or St. Louis perhaps."

"You talkin' 'bout runaway slaves, ain't ya?"

"That may indeed be the duty at times, but not only them."

"That suh is agin' the law!"

"And slavery is against the law of god, the law of right and wrong.. Before the end of the year, or perhaps next year, our president will free the slaves as part of an effort to remove the labor force from the south and quicken the end of the war."

"Mah own pers'nal worry would be bein' arrested and jailed, maybe lynched." Preston held up a hand as if to say halt, to stop further discussion. "Not long ago, Ah wudda been shocked, maybe shot ya, over helpin' 'scaped slaves. But now, Ah b'leeve Ah've changed. Ya see Ah never ownt no slaves, but I has ta say I wanted to. Ah never before knowed a slave, ya know, lak a person, wudda never thought they was people. But now I has got to know at least one and unnerstan' that he akjally is a person. An' Ah also seen them marks on his back an right then I knowed that I never cud do that to nobody, not even no slave, so Ah reckon Ah ain't cut out ta be no slave owner no way."

"But you gotta unnerstan' If'n Ah do dis, Ah still has ta do it ma way. Ah ain't inta killin' no one who ain't tryin' ta kill me. Me an Sean here, we done give up killin' when we walked offn that battlefield." Prest stopped short, indicating that he had said all he cared to, and turned to Sean. "Ain't that right, Sean?"

Sean laughed lightly, shaking his head in amazement at the changes his friend had gone through.

"That's right, Preston. We did. We gave up war and killing. But this will be different. We will be standing for real people, people we know, not some bullshit ideas like 'The Confederacy' or 'The Union'. Are you ready to give Li'll Mike your word that you will serve and protect him and his?"

"All right, yeah, Ah'll give ya mah word. And mine is the word of a Suthren Gentleman. Well akjually, Ah ain't never been no gentleman, but jes the same. There!"

Sean spoke up, holding out his hand "Well Sir, you have yourself a deal! Let's sit down and work out the details."

"How about over breakfast?" The big Negro moved to shake the hand of both boys.

***

The boys stood proudly as the workman descended the ladder from painting their new sign on their new headquarters (their house) that they now rented from Li'll Mike. "P&S PROTECTIVE SERVICES," the sign read. Both Ps and both Ss were in fancy type and gold lettering. They had set up a screen to portion off part of their parlor/bedroom/et al, and installed a desk and chairs where they could interview prospective clients, of whom they presently counted only Mike so far, but were hopeful.

They walked together to the Cairo Times office to purchase advertising and cards for their new business, feeling quite impressed with themselves. Mike had fronted each seventy dollars, a week's pay. They had each spent ten dollars for a new suit. Preston's was all in black and silver, set off by a black cowboy-style hat tipped back at a jaunty angle. The suit was tailored to highlight every slim inch of his body. A new gun belt of black and silver gripped his trim waist, holster tied off to his thigh gunfighter style. A brand new weapon rested lightly therein, the silver logo of the company engraved on the holster and gun butt. Black boots shined to a gleaming luster, finished off the ensemble.

Sean wore a businessman's suit and vest of soft dove gray and a matching fedora, brim bent rakishly over one eye, and gold watch chain looped across the vest. His boots were of a very soft Italian leather the color of a dove's wing. The well-tailored suit fit him like a calf-skin glove. The tailor had asked Sean which side he 'dressed' on, but the young man did not understand until the tailor explained that he would allow a bit extra material in one pant leg or the other for Sean's 'equipment', nonetheless, the trousers displayed Sean's assets to their fullest extent. In one hand Sean carried a soft black brief case, (so far empty) and in the other a soft cloth bag containing a brand new Sharp's carbine. The business partners had decided that this would be Sean's weapon of choice, and had plans that afternoon to begin practice with both weapons.

The muddy streets bustled with folks on their way here and there, hurrying about. Both Sean and Preston noticed that Negroes gave the right-of-way to whites, detouring from the wooden sidewalks into the muddy street when a white person approached. Sean, in particular felt very uncomfortable whenever a black did so for him, however, he decided, better to live to fight another day.

The town was extremely busy with supplies and warships for the Union army coming and going at all hours of day and night. Saloons were open all day and night and liquor flowed freely. 'Ladies of the night', were everywhere, and several had propositioned each of the boys before they had gone three blocks.

Both were feeling quite pleased with themselves, though so far they had accomplished nothing real. Suddenly there was a young black child of about eight slogging in the mud beside them. "Suhs, suhs. Mister Mike, he say come quick over to Da Depot. Dere be trouble. Hurry suhs, please. The boys looked at each other. "Well, here goes," Sean quipped. "S&P Protective Services in Action!"

Sean and Preston arrived in front of the Depot within a few minutes of being summoned. A small crowd had gathered and Sean could see that it was quickly evolving to blacks on one side and whites on the other. He inserted himself at the front of the black crowd, lightly hefting the still covered Sharps, and urged Preston into place beside him.

A particularly rough looking man of about forty, gray and disheveled, spoke out. "Stand aside, we intend to enter!"

"Do you have a warrant," Sean asked? We Don't need no warrant fer a nigra place. We have reason to believe that this place is hiding fugitive slaves, and we intend to enter and reclaim them for their rightful owners."

"We, on the other hand," Sean stated coolly and firmly, "have been hired to protect this establishment from those who would do harm. Your entry is denied, so just turn around and go home. I will ask the proprietor if he knows anything of runaways, and report his answer to you, otherwise you must return with an officer of the law and a search warrant signed by a certified judge. It is partially to preserve our rights as Americans under the constitution, such as the right to protection from illegal search and seizure, that this terrible war is being fought. Further action on your part could be seen to be unpatriotic."

Murmurs went through the crowd. Several people yelled out phrases like: "Yankee rights or Yankee laws, you mean." Others yelled back from the unionist side.

A small group of free blacks and Quakers and other abolitionist had by now gathered to one side and they began to yell out slogans.

Preston slowly, but in full view of everyone, unhooked the hammer loop from his pistol and shifted his weight. Sean let the cloth cover slither to the ground, unveiling the repeater rifle. Neither of the boys made a threatening move, but both were prepared for anything.

"Under the Fugitive Slave Act, every citizen is required to assist in the apprehension of runaway slaves," the unruly man went on.

"Do you have any proof that any runaway is or has been inside? Because if you had proof, and could show me that proof, then perhaps I might be persuaded to assist you in the return of said property. As it is, we have only your word that anything is amiss. Not only that, but I believe that under the circumstances, during this war, that returning a slave to his owner might be thought to be helping the Confederate cause. That sir, might possibly be construed as treason. Two more things you may wish to consider. Any day now, our president is set to free the slaves, probably before you get to the south with the slaves, then where will you be?"

The fomenter was loosing ground as the crowd began to choose up sides, angry voices rising. He yelled to Sean. "Well that's one thing, what's the other?"

"The other thing, my friend is that my associate here, (gesturing to Preston) and I have a signed contract to protect this property and its inhabitants. If you choose to ignore my advice and storm this building, seven or eight of you will probably be shot before you make it inside. We have no wish to harm anyone, so please disperse."

By this time the local police had arrived. Though they probably sided with the slave hunters philosophically, like all good cops they hated disturbance and paperwork, so they sought to calm and disperse the crowd rather than incite it. They also seemed unsure of the Sean and Prests' legal status. t "Okay ,okay, everyone go home. Break it up! There's nothing to see, nothing to do here, Y'all go on home now. Go on about your business. Go on. Git," the cops said as they began to force their way through the crowd.

A few minutes later, after the trouble had passed, the police sergeant came up to Prest and Sean. "What's yer game, you two. What fer are yah stickin' yer necks our fer a bunch of nigras?"

As if doing business with coloreds was an everyday thing, Sean immediately proffered a business card with the silver and black S&P logo. "We do not serve the Negro we do not serve the white man. We are a business firm whose service is to provide security against burglary, forced entry and bodily harm to businesses and others who cannot protect themselves. We are totally within the law and have no interest in starting trouble only to end or prevent it."

"Wall, jes' watch yerslves around here, this is mah town, ya heer?"

"Yes sir Sergeant, and thank you for helping us diffuse a potentially violent scene."

"Okay,okay, break it up now, go on."

A loud voice shouted from a few steps away. "Hey, You!"

All three men turned to face the sound. The large burly man was advancing, gun drawn, brandishing it at all or any of the three. The man fired once and dust snickered up on Preston's shiny boots. The policeman reached to unholster his pistol, but Preston was much faster. Another bullet whizzed past the sergeant's face. Sean fired and the man crumpled immediately to the ground.