Smuttery smuttery smut
10 Spring, Year 4
Who's Afraid of Hospitals
Last summer I was ordering my recipes from the Queen of Sauce according to season – and my mother's, and various other ones that I managed to snoop off the people from the village – and spotted one that I'd never been able to make before, mainly because I always remembered it existed when it was the wrong season: cranberry candy.
I have never been this aware of a need to cook what's in season before – in the city they just import from places where a certain thing is in season, I guess. I do have a greenhouse where I grow my fruit trees, a few cactus plants and some ever-bearing berries, but in general I now prefer to follow the seasons, and I have even taken a whole boring day last winter to make a calendar for my parents to use. They can ignore it if they want to, but they won't be able to say they don't know anymore.
To get back to the point, I really like all the ingredients of the cranberry candy – who doesn't like cranberries, apple and sugar – so I ended up making a whole bunch last fall. And eating nearly half of it on the spot. However, I managed to save the other half, store it in jam jars, and leave it somewhere in the back of a cupboard to make myself forget that I had it in there so I wouldn't eat the rest of it inside of one week.
Now, Spring has just begun and I still have two jars left, and the calendar I've bought from Robin and copied from the one outside the general store tells me it's Vincent's birthday today. That kid is not easy to please, so I finally got Jodi to tell me what he likes, and what do you know. He loves this cranberry candy to death. So I transferred some of the stuff into a smaller jar – on Jodi's request – and that's what he's getting. And while I'm at it, I can arrange someone else's late birthday present as well.
I knock on the door and go inside – I'm still not entirely comfortable walking into this house like I used to. I immediately spot Kent, watching TV. He looks up when I come in.
"Good afternoon. Um. Is the birthday boy home?"
"He's at the museum with Penny," Kent answers, expressionless. It's so hard to know with this guy if he still resents me, if he still wants me to stay away from his children... Sam easily starts talking to me if he spots me in town, and I don't want to deny him, but I am also aware I tend to start looking around me more often during those conversations.
"Even on his birthday? Well... Okay, thank you. I'll, uh, see you later."
I may be walking a little faster than normal as I move away from the house, and I may also be paranoid enough to look around at the door a little too often. Then someone comes around the corner and I don't have the necessary reflexes to avoid them, but they do. It's probably only the hand on my shoulder that keeps me from falling over.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I should look where I'm going..." I look up to see it's Alex.
"Hey, farm boy. Good thing I'm like a ninja."
"Yeah, good on you. Wouldn't like to get your clothes dirty."
"Yeah. What's that you got there?"
"Cranberry candy, for Vincent. It's his birthday."
"You give everyone birthday gifts?"
"Of course. Did you think it was just you?"
"No, I guess not. But everyone is a bit much."
"I started it when I was new in town. To get people to like me. Can't really stop now."
"Makes sense."
"You're not getting stuck under the barbells anymore?"
"Nah, I only do that in winter, really. The rest of the year I use my dumbbells at home, or I do push-ups, or sit-ups... You know. There's bunches of different exercises."
"Okay, but why only in winter, then?"
"Because the cold is good for my muscles. That's what my gym coach said. It's better to do the heaviest exercises in winter because the cold stops it from doing too much damage."
This doesn't sound very scientific to me.
"But don't you need to... warm up? Does the cold still help if you start by warming up?"
"No, no. Warming up is inside of your muscles, see? And the cold is outside."
"Um, okay. Well, I'm going to go looking for Vincent. I'll see you around."
"Okay. Bye."
Vincent, it turns out, isn't actually having class today. Penny has sat him down at a separate table with a puzzle to keep him busy while she reads a book with Jas. Still it doesn't seem like a good idea right now to engage him in conversation – let alone give him a jar of sugary goodness he won't be able to stay away from for the rest of the class. Gunther will kill both him and me if he spots sticky stuff near his books. So I sit down on the bench outside and wait for them, enjoying the warm sun. The past three days have been a constant merry-go-round where every time I thought I could take a break, something else would pop up. Tilling soil, sowing crops, the animals, broken fences, not enough wood, fishing, having to run to the general store because I ran out of the food I'd stored to get through the winter and even I don't want to survive on a diet of parsnips and kale for half a season before the cauliflowers and beans are ripe. Today is a rest day. I can take a bit of time.
At two, the little group comes out of the museum. I get up.
"Hey, Vincent," I call out. He spins around – he hadn't even seen me. "Hi, Penny. Hi, Jas," I greet the girls. "Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to make sure to get this lucky dude a little something. Happy birthday, Vincent."
I hand him the jar and his excited face turns confused.
"Jam?"
"Cranberry candy."
"Really?" He immediately starts opening the jar, but Penny closes her hand around the lid before he can get it off.
"Tut-tut, Vincent, you have to wash your hands first. You can open it when you get home. And what do you say to Mr. Evan?"
"Oh yeah. Thank you, Mr. Evan," he says quickly, and then runs off in the direction of home.
"Um, sorry," I say to Penny. "It wasn't my intention to make him hyper. He's just... a bit hard to please, the only thing he seems to be happy with is candy."
"He loves grapes, too. Somewhat of a healthier snack," Penny suggests serenely. "It's alright, I told him he could go home straight after class today. Jodi's going to throw him a birthday party as soon as Sam gets home too."
"Oh. That's not very useful for a birthday gift, I'm afraid. Grapes don't grow in spring. But I'll remember that."
"Will you play with us, Mr. Evan?" Jas asks. I have told the children several times not to say 'mister', but Penny makes them.
"Oh, um. I don't really know... What do you play?"
"Do you like word games?"
"Like what?"
"I say an animal, and then you have to say another animal with the last letter of my animal."
"Okay."
"Lion."
My mind completely blanks trying to find an animal that starts with 'n'.
"Nightingale," Penny whispers. She's obviously played this game a lot.
"Oh, Nightingale!" I say as if I figured it out myself.
"You cheated! Miss Penny told you!"
"Well, I've never played this game before. Let me get into it."
"Okay. Earthworm."
"Maggot."
"Tiger."
"Rhinoceros."
I lose the game a couple of times – first with animals, then with professions – and finally Penny stops us, looking behind her. Sam is crossing the bridge to the center of the village, so Vincent's birthday party is about to start.
I move along to the clinic. It's past three right now so Harvey has retreated upstairs, which is just as well. I find him reading a medical journal and remember Alex's remark about the cold.
"Good afternoon," I leave my boots at the door, go over and give him a kiss. "How's your day so far?"
"Quiet. Just one cold. How about yours?"
"Finally getting a rest. I haven't had a chance to sit down for a couple days. That's exaggerated," I add quickly when I see his face change.
"Regardless, you have just reminded me of something else. It's spring. You should have a checkup sometime soon."
"You are never going to believe me when I tell you I'm fine, are you?"
"You can be one french fry away from heart congestion and feel fine. That's without mentioning diabetes, cancer... all of those are things you don't notice until it's too late, and then you'll be taking a needle to your own fingers every day for the rest of your life, or worse. It's just me, I can do it here in my apartment, we don't even need to be in the clinic."
"Okay." I lean my backside carefully against the table. "I need to clarify something here. I am not, nor have I ever been scared of hospitals or doctors or anything like that. I hate dentists, but that's another story. The reason why my pulse goes up when you take it is because you are the one taking it."
Harvey stares at me for a second or three.
"But that's... two years ago."
"This has been going on since my first summer here, Harvey."
He gets a slightly annoyed look on his face now.
"The moonlight jellies."
"No. The Luau."
"You'd barely even talked to me before that."
"Exactly. I'd never needed medical help, either. That night of the moonlight jellies was the first time you turned me on, but I always thought you were good-looking and I always liked your company. So if you're going to insist on checking me, have at it, but don't worry about my pulse."
He thinks it over.
"I'll be right back," he says then, and goes for the door.
"Is it easier if I come downstairs with you?"
"Yes."
I follow him down. He does my checkup. He doesn't comment on any of his findings this time.
"Alright," he says in the end. "Everything seems normal."
"Except my pulse?" I grin.
"I'll find a way around that, don't worry."
We go back upstairs, and then I decide not to give him a chance to think of another distraction.
"So, I was actually planning a bit of a... thing."
"A thing. Should I be worried?"
"I think you'll like it. But I'm going to need you to sit on the chair." I grab the chair he normally uses to make his model airplanes at the table and turn it around to face me.
"Is it a sexual thing?"
"You're going to ruin the surprise."
Harvey sits down.
So I didn't really think this through. I was kind of half trying not to. I glance doubtfully at the radio – the regular music radio, that is. Well, I've gotten myself into this now, I can't backpedal. I might as well see what's on air. I walk over to the radio, turn it on, and find some kind of smooth jazzy tune coming out. It's not what I would've picked, but it's better than silence.
I stand in front of Harvey and now I can feel my pulse in my neck.
"So, for the record," I babble nervously, "I've never done this before and it will probably suck, please try not to laugh."
Harvey just looks and waits. With a feeling in my stomach like I'm really about to jump off a cliff, I start moving – trying to do some semblance of what I see in my head when I think about 'sexy dancing'. I have a good sense of rhythm, and I am aware, rationally speaking, that I have become pretty good-looking. But deep down I'm still the fat kid, and I'm constantly struggling to push down that part of my brain that considers this whole idea ridiculous because I could never pull it off and Harvey is going to burst out in guffaws any minute.
I only really realize that I've closed my eyes when I grab for the edge of my t-shirt and have to open them to coordinate my movements while taking it off, slowly, bit by bit. I glance over at Harvey – I barely dare, if he's holding back laughter I'll probably fall apart – but he's just... looking. There's no expression on his face. I throw the t-shirt on the bed and start on the button of my pants, trying to stay confident while gyrating as best I can manage. This is probably getting boring to look at, there's only, like, three different kinds of moves I can think of to do and my brain is kinda short-circuiting. I slide my pants off my hips without bothering to open the zipper, step out of them and kick them out of my way.
I'm getting to the moment of truth and really I'm more nervous about this dancing stuff than about the surprise. I turn around with my back toward Harvey and start lowering my underpants, bit by bit with every sway of my hips, until I can let go of those as well and let them drop. My surprise should now be in full view, and I'm really kind of done with this dancing business, so I try a bit of a twirl and bow.
Harvey is still staring, though at least he's now looking red in the face.
"I have the impression you're not all that enthusiastic, and also that I'm really not all that good at this, so maybe I should skip the lap dance," I say, embarrassed.
"Do whatever you please, I'm on board," he answers. I'm a little shocked at how low his voice is.
"Did you like that?"
"Come here."
I go closer until I'm within his reach and he pulls me onto his lap. I can feel his dick through his pants, entirely hard.
"Does that answer your question?" he says, sounding more like it's a mere suggestion. His hands start kneading my ass. I put my arms around his neck for balance.
"Distinctly."
"How much lube have you got in there?"
"Quite a lot."
I feel a light tug.
"How big is this?"
"One and a half inch. Diameter."
Another tug. I tighten my grip and arch my back.
"How long have you been wearing this?"
"Since right before I left the farm to come see you. Maybe an hour?"
"You took an hour to get here?"
"I had, er...," it's a bit hard to concentrate, "a birthday present. For Vincent."
"What was it?"
"You're not going to like it."
"All the more reason for you to tell me."
He starts tugging rhythmically now, still slow, but considering the bulk of the thing he's pulling on I really feel it.
"Cranberry candy."
I'm getting a harder tug.
"Oh."
"Me telling these kids sugar is bad for them and they should look after their teeth, and you go around giving them pure sugar."
"Jodi knows." It's ridiculous, he hasn't even done anything yet and already I'm breathing quickly. "She'll... slow him down."
"At least there's that. Are you comfortable?"
"Not as much as I would like. I'm barely reaching the ground."
"Get up."
I obey immediately, very acutely aware of the object between my butt cheeks. Harvey goes over to the couch, pulls his pants and underpants down just a little to free his dick and sits down. I automatically get on top again, on my knees. He puts his left arm around my back, his right hand squeezes my ass, and that way he guides me to lean into him, my head against his shoulder, back arched for easy access. I put my arms around him to keep them out of the way. My dick is lying against his stomach, directly next to his, and it's probably not his intention for me to touch either of them right now.
He starts pulling rhythmically on my butt plug again. It's a stainless steel one, the largest of the set of three that I bought back in the city, and I cycled through the other two before I dared to try get this one in. It doesn't quite reach my prostate, but I'm pretty primed because of my imagination alone. I start moving along with him, partly also to get a bit of friction in the front. Really I should know better by now, but I can't really help that I like it when he gives me orders.
"Don't move, Evan."
I stop myself. That urge is going to become way harder to resist later.
By this point Harvey has switched to pulling the plug further and further backward – not pulling it entirely out yet, but I'm not sure if that is because he wants to play with it some more or for the sake of caution.
"Are you okay?" he asks then, confirming the latter.
"Yeah. It's really just, keep on pulling back slowly and it'll pop."
"Can you push?"
"I'm afraid I'm gonna lose all my lube."
"Just a little."
I push, carefully. I had really expected the butt plug to keep the sphincter itself open, but it seems this is more the way it works – it's easier to get said sphincter to relax letting something out than in... and once that's done, you're open. And the thing does feel large. With just a bit of effort, it pops out, and then the next question is where to put it.
"Okay, so I didn't think this through," I admit, and take it from him to carefully put it on the floor. Then I lift myself up on my knees, take Harvey's swollen penis, and try to sit down on it, slowly. It takes me some finnicking, but with some help and after hooking my feet back over Harvey's thighs, we make it work. He goes in way easier than I had expected, until I reach the base – it's still thicker than what I'm prepared for.
"I'm okay," I report, "give me a few..." I don't really know how to end that sentence so I kinda drop it while I settle down completely.
As soon as I feel comfortable, I start moving – first slowly, testing angles, then more quickly when I'm confident in my movements, holding on to the back of the sofa.
This is not the most effective position for me – that would be the straight-down thing Harvey did half a week ago – but it's not me I'm doing this for, and Harvey is half gone with bliss, watching me. When he starts pumping my dick in his hand, I know he's getting close and slow down. Then I feel him get even wider. I knew this always happens – It happens to me, it's happened to him every time I've blown him – but this is the first time I notice it while I have him inside of me. Because I'm moving slowly, I feel every inch of him rub more insistently against my prostate as he grows.
"Ohh, Harvey," I moan. "I can feel you getting bigger."
"Is it good?" He pumps my dick faster.
"So... good... I'm not gonna take much longer." I start speeding up again, but his hand on my thigh holds me back.
"Just like this," he sighs. I go on at the same, slower speed, and with him masturbating me, I come inside of a few more thrusts. I keep moving until he stops me. Then, I relax, coming down and letting my heartbeat go back to normal.
Harvey reaches a hand up to my jaw and kisses me, slowly. One finger presses more insistently than expected into the side of my throat and stays there.
"Well, I can't say that's not a commendable recuperation time," he states smugly.
"Happy now?" I grin. He's talking about my pulse, of course. I carefully stand up, pick up my butt plug and he follows me to the bathroom.
"More than satisfied." I let the double entendre go without commenting on it.
"I'm glad. Speaking of medical stuff, Alex said this weird thing that doesn't sound very... scientific to me? And now I'm just curious." I sit down on the toilet while Harvey pops into the shower.
"What is it?"
"Something about him only doing the heaviest exercises in winter, the stuff with the barbells, because... the cold prevents the exercise from doing damage to his muscles? Or something? And... warming up makes no difference because warming up is on the inside and the cold is on the outside?"
"What a bunch of hokey. That high school coach of his..." I can see Harvey shake his head through the shower screen. "I guess it's good to know that he believes that, I might as well bring it up."
"Is it dangerous for him to believe that?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if beliefs like these are the reason he got stuck last winter. By not exercising as hard over the rest of the year, he can lose the progress he made in winter. When the next winter starts, he might just go back to the same amount of weight he left off with the previous year and not be able to handle it anymore. The stupid thing is, every time I address one of these superstitions, he'll believe me on that one thing and just go on adhering to everything else that idiot has told him. It's like he just doesn't realize that everything else he's learned might be fake too."
"Hmm. Maybe I should make sure I know my shit by next winter to help weed that sucker out."
"You're always welcome to my books."
