The Story of Rolf and Erik Pt. 03

It was springtime, and nature came to life again. The buds on the trees filled with sap, and the mating calls of animals could be heard. Rolf and Erik's lust for each other had not diminished, but the conditions were far more primitive than in Nacka. The cottage was small, and badly heated too, especially the bathroom where they only spent minimal time. During all the time of the renovation, Erik and Rolf had to share a hard wooden bed with a scratchy red woolen blanket. They cuddled underneath, sometimes keeping their woolen socks and sweaters, and the rustic bed would jerk angrily whenever they enjoyed each other. Erik had always been very olfactive when it came to sex, but he noticed that the scent of Rolf's sweat was a turn on. He mentioned that to Rolf who, as a biologist, would explain to him that it was normal, as fresh male sweat contained a potent pheromone called androstenol. And told him he felt just the same too.

The repair work took place generally on Saturdays. On Sundays, they would roam the neighboring islands by boat. In the outer archipelago, there were many long flat granite rocks most of which were totally empty, except sometimes for a few seals sunbathing. Yet a number of the rocks would have at least one bollard somewhere to anchor a boat. Rolf and Erik would take their clothes off, as the May temperatures were mild enough, even if it was too still cold to swim. But they would put their boots back on, as the rocks were slippery.

Erik would get on his knees, and worship Rolf's cock right under the sun, as the salty sea wind sent sprays onto their skin. Standing there naked in his boots, his hairy muscular body and salt-and-pepper beard indeed gave Rolf the look of some ancient god of the sea. Erik's milky white body looked like an athlete carved out of marble, but what Rolf always found most bewildering was Erik's manhood, as stiff and loyal as a soldier, the precious proof of his lust for him. Under the sun, Erik's blond hair and stubble would get a ginger hue. And when Rolf would squirt his milk on Erik's face or in his mouth, they got the genuine feel that sex was a cult of natural forces, as Erik had always understood it was. Rolf came to think rubbers felt out of place in these natural surroundings. He started to consider thanking Erik for giving up his Erasmus plan by giving up his last inhibitions.

Rolf had remembered Erik's confession that he was not jealous. He started to gently suggest the idea of introducing a third partner. Erik was open to that, but would have preferred it to be a mature type. Rolf was not against the idea of sharing Erik with another grown man if he had the right energy. But he insisted that a younger one would be a better idea though. Erik could watch Rolf fuck him, and Rolf could watch Erik fuck him too and encourage him, or they could fuck him both. Rolf was concerned that Erik would not remain a bottom all his life. He thought it would no longer be appropriate when he would grow older, and that he should try to become like him in the long run. Deep down, Erik thought Rolf was right.

Always deprived of a father, Erik was eager for Rolf to initiate him to manly activities. He was enthusiastic with the manual work they were doing to renovate the house. It was actually coming to an end, and they had worked so well that the little red cottage looked as good as new. Erik suggested that Rolf would now teach him how to fish. However, Rolf advised against it. He had learned fishing in his younger years though, with his father and grandfather back in Dalecarlia, and even taught Johan as a child. But he had recently become uncomfortable with the idea of killing animals for mere leisure. Erik was a bit disappointed, but admitted it made sense. So they agreed that Rolf would teach him boating instead this summer.

In the attic of the cottage, Rolf found an old guitar which he used to play years before. He was thrilled to rediscover it and managed put it back in tune. He started playing "I hear you knocking", as the tune and the lyrics were easy. Rolf's voice was a deep baritone, but he sang slightly off key and his accent was thick. Erik joined the singing, and Rolf was amazed to hear he could reproduce the American diction to perfection. The harmony they had created was contagious, and Rolf started tapping with his boots while Erik clapped rhythmically in his hands as they sang. But Rolf was astonished when Erik started "Dixieland delight". It turned out it had become Erik's favorite country song, and he had memorized it after hearing it in Nacka without Rolf being even aware. As Erik sang, Rolf noticed he had introduced slight changes in the lyrics, replacing "girl" by "boy" and "her by "him".

The month of June came, and the sea became warm enough to swim in, at least by Nordic standards. The sun was warm enough to sunbathe, and Rolf would use the natural granite slabs as a massage table for Erik. After they had pleasured themselves outdoors, Rolf and Erik would engage in playful peeing contests from the top of the rocks. Then they pulled out their boots cautiously, and went down, taking care not to glide or hurt themselves. Once in the water, they would swim and frolic naked. It was pure bliss to Rolf, who was brought back many years before, when he used to bathe with Johan in the same scenery. The difference now was that he had a bright young man with him, as handsome as he had been himself long ago, and to whom he had inadvertently conveyed something of his own soul. Rolf hadn't even been aware he had something like a soul, but Erik had managed to catch it.

Erik had just passed his final exams for the year, and would soon be twenty-two years old. The days were getting long, the sun would only disappear at 10 PM, and the nights were clear enough to read without a lamp. It would soon be Midsummer, and all of Sweden would celebrate the longest day of the year by raising maypoles, covering houses with greenery, and starting bonfires everywhere after sunset. Erik remembered that Kurt had told him maypoles where the remnant of an old phallic fertility cult celebrated by the Vikings in the distant pagan times. Christianity had recuperated and adapted all the former pagan celebrations and rituals, and that's how the summer solstice became St John's night.

Erik and Rolf would revive the pagan cult of manhood and celebrate it together. They had looked for various islands in advance to select the proper one for the occasion. They elected a sandy one covered with pines, and anchored the boat there. They gathered a few branches in the pine forest, made a small heap next to the water and set fire to it. It was quiet, all that was heard was the sound of the waves and the cracking of the fire. The two men took out their clothes and sat down naked on the beach facing each other, beholding the contrast of their twenty-six year age gap. The bearded captain saw the handsome lad that he once had been, and the brave soldier saw the mighty male that he was to become.

Their maypoles were both proudly raised towards the sky. Rolf was sitting on his knees, waiting for Erik to come and wrap his legs around his waist and his arms around his chest in the lotus position. And for the first time since they had met each other at the heart of wintertime, there would be no rubber barrier between them. Each was looking into the other's eyes, feeling the other's breath on his face, and hearing the other's heartbeat against his chest. For the first time, they experienced the immediate touch of each other's raw flesh, the senior's pole gliding freely inside the junior's hole. Waves of pleasure were mounting like the tide from the centre of their bodies until they were submerged. Each gave his seed to the other, one inside and the other outside, as they sang out their lust.

The sun had just disappeared into the Baltic sea. The sky had taken a cobalt blue color, but streaks of yellow and red still hovered the horizon like flames, and the outline of pine trees on the rocks stuck out in the twilight. Rolf and Erik felt jumped into the water and swam together, shouting and laughing as it was getting chilly. Then they dried up, put their clothes back on, and sat beneath the fire. Rolf had brought his guitar and started playing, and Erik joined him singing old country classics. Their two contrasting voices set the beat together in an odd but powerful harmony, echoing in the clear summer night.

THE END