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They Called It Claude Glass


Claude Glass looked out the kitchen window at his fields. He looked at the remnants of another failed harvest, the third in a row. Two years ago, the drought burned him. Last year an early freeze ruined the crop and this year the drought hit again. The fields, even in disaster, were testaments to efficiency, Claude's efficiency. The rows and furrows rolled perfectly over the undulations in the land, their slope ideal for channeling rainwater, rainwater that never came.

Claude remembered everything his grandfather taught him. "The land," he would say, "the land knows your hands, it knows your plow and it will treat you good, if you treat it right."

"The land knows my hands Gran-pa?"

"It knows my hands, so it knows your hands," he replied with a smile. The wrinkles at his eyes seemed to smile when his mouth did.

Claude spotted his reflection in a skillet hung near the window. He smiled and watched the wrinkles at his own eyes respond. He remembered his grandmother, always telling stories. His favorite was her story of staying in a hotel in the big city. She spoke with such wonder, that Claude envisioned something like heaven there in the city. It was there that she got her

special mirror and where Claude got his name.

"I looked into the gray glass of that mirror and suddenly the world was so beautiful. I looked at the buildings, the trees, the streets and bridges and everything was like a painting. I knew I had to look at the farm in this mirror when I got home."

"Did you Gran-ma?"

"Oh yes Claude. I looked through the mirror and suddenly I understood what your Gran-pa always said about the land. I think through that mirror I could see it all, just like he saw it. I think it is just how you see it."

"Let me look Gran-ma."

Claude remembered the slightly tinted view of the land. The fields seemed to curve in such a strange manner. It was not until later, after his mom and dad buried his Gran-ma with her mirror that Claude really understood what she was telling him. Claude, like his Gran-pa, was part of the land.

Claude smiled. His grandmother had talked his mother into naming him Claude. "Don't you see, it is the only way," his grandmother would tell him later. "The mirror, they called it claude glass. Something in the way they color it, and bend it." Claude's mother gave in.

But all that was the past. His grandparents and parents were dead and buried in the family cemetery just over the knoll. Claude longed for those days. He longed to run his hand through the soil with his grandfather, or to hear one of his grandmother's stories. He longed to hear a word of support from his mother, or even the groaning complaint of his dad.

The land, the beautiful land that knew his hands, that knew him like no person could ever know him had turned hard. The land no longer seemed so softly curved, lightly tinted as he remembered.

"Come on Claude, it's the wave of the future. The loans will tide us over the hard times, and we pay them back when it rains next year. And with the harvester we can bring in the crop in half the time," Tony, his partner said. "Listen Claude, John is the best Ag agent we've ever had, and he is the one who recommended it."

Claude looked at Tony, at the sky blue of his eyes, the soft turn of his lips and wondered how, after all these years farming together, he could still seem so tender. Claude's hands were hard and calloused, his face sunburned and cracked, but Tony just didn't seem to show the wear of the years. Tony remained softened, almost curved at the edges.

Claude looked at the paper on the table, the red X seemed to flash at him like neon. "Damn it Tony, all these years and I've never been in debt. Now, with a stroke of the pen I am at the mercy of others."

"It's finance Claude. It's the way of the world, the way of the future."

Claude took the pen and quickly signed. "Tony, it's not like before, nothing's like before."

"No Claude, the world has changed."

Claude thought of his grandmother, of her stories. He looked at Tony and thought of the claude glass mirror. "I wish you had known my Gran-ma Tony."

"I wish that too Claude," Tony replied, gently taking Claude's hand in his. "I wish that too," he repeated. Without a word together they headed to the bedroom, silently climbing the stairs and walking into the room.

Claude slowly began unbuttoning Tony's shirt, kissing his lips, sliding his tongue deep into his mouth. Claude then stood motionless as Tony unbuttoned his shirt and kissed downward, lingering on his nipples, first one and then the other. He looked down and saw his erection through his pants, as Tony raised his head and arched his back a bit so their cocks brushed against each other. They both loved this, brushing their erections together.

They both stood back and removed the rest of their clothing, so when they embraced, their cocks touched, skin on skin. Moving to the bed, they both lay side by side, each facing the other's cock. They rarely practiced sixty-nine, since the feeling was so much more intense when once person could concentrate on the other's pleasure, but tonight, they wanted to share the feeling together, at the same time.

Claude felt Tony take his thick cock deep into his mouth, he felt his tongue run around its massive shaft as he stroked it with his hand. Claude ran his tongue along Tony's much thinner cock, but soon felt himself getting close to coming. He felt Tony increase the suction and move his hand faster and in no time, he splashed his hot come into Tony's mouth. He paused, looking down as Tony swallowed every drop of him.

Claude then intensified his sucking and stroking of Tony's rod, feeling him move his hips up to meet him. Claude felt the tell tale twitch in Tony's cock and knew he was close. With a loud slurping suck he coaxed Tony to climax. He was suddenly flooded with bland taste of Tony's come, a taste somewhat like unsweetened cream of rice, with a touch of salt, a taste he had come to love.

They lay together for a while, then got up and got dressed. "Hey, let's sit outside for a bit, the weather's nice and the bugs haven't taken over yet," Claude said heading down the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Tony and reached out his hand to him on the final few steps. Hand in hand they walked out to the porch. The land curved before them and seemed slightly tinted. It called them both.

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