Read A Second Harvest Online

Authors: Eli Easton

Tags: #Gay Romance

A Second Harvest (20 page)

Christie stroked his back for a moment, but soon he was wiggling and thrusting lightly with his hips. “Please, David. Need you.”

“I’m here.” He rose back up on his arms and started to move, at first just with his hips. But soon he was making love to Christie with his whole body. Propped on one elbow, he used the other hand to sweep Christie’s side and chest, work at his nipple. He thrust so hard and deep Christie had to brace them against the headboard with one hand.

Perfect, sexy, beautiful.

How was it possible David never felt more like a man than he did right now, making love to another man? He loved the tight grip of Christie’s body, the way he could feel his testicles on every thrust, the hard length that bounced on Christie’s stomach as he moved, the low, masculine cries coming from Christie’s mouth.

I love Christie. Period.

He was close, so close. He moved his hand down to grasp Christie’s erection. The angle was awkward, but his hips did most of the work, shifting Christie in and out of his fist. Christie canted his hips a little more. “There! Right there! Oh God, don’t stop. Don’t stop!”

David didn’t stop. He moved faster, squeezed Christie’s cock a little tighter. Christie grunted a series of “ohs!” and then stilled, his whole body contracting and his eyes rolling up in his head. His come shot out in great bursts, hitting his chin and clavicle. David groaned and started to come too, trying to hang on as Christie’s body clamped down and nearly forced him out.

When he finally rolled off to the side, he was laughing, a pure, delighted sound.

“What’s so funny?” Christie asked, sounding dazed.

“That was incredible.” David pulled off the condom and placed it down by the bed.

“Right?” Christie chuckled.

“Your body is amazing. I never…. It was so tight you nearly pushed me out at the end.”

“Contractions. God, I came so hard.” Christie rolled toward him and rested his chin on David’s chest. “Okay?”

David wasn’t sure what he meant at first, but then he realized; he meant cuddling. David put his arm around Christie and pulled him close. “Always.”

David held Christie as he dozed. He couldn’t stop marveling at him—his eyelashes, his jaw, which was growing rough with end-of-day stubble, the masculine body, the soft cock, still so appealing, lying limp on his thigh. David did not regret this. There was no second-guessing, no guilt. For the first time in his life, he’d taken something he truly wanted for himself.

Maybe someday in the weeks and months and years to come, when Christie was no longer there, maybe the memory of this feeling would shrink enough to make room for self-recrimination. But right now being with Christie was like hot sunlight. And when you were in the sunlight, it was hard to imagine the darkness.

Chapter 16

 

 

PASTOR MITCHELL
came by on a Wednesday morning in the middle of December. He brought a Bundt cake his wife had made. “A little Christmas cheer,” he said when he handed it over.

David was patching a drainpipe outside the barn. He put down the tools and took the cake. “Thank you, Pastor.” He didn’t want to linger with the man. He knew he had a rebuking to look forward to for missing so much church. But Pastor Mitchell had visited Susan often when she was sick. David didn’t want to be rude. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“That would be very nice, thank you.”

They went inside. There was a small Christmas tree in the kitchen by the window. Christie helped David put it up a few days ago. The farm’s kitchen was where they spent most of their evenings, and Christie was enthusiastic about celebrating Christmas this year. He “oohed” and “aahed” over the boxes of old Christmas ornaments, many from when David was a kid.

David blinked at the tree momentarily, reminded strongly of Christie. Then he made some instant coffee—the sooner to get the minister in and out. He took the two cups over to the table.

“I see you’re all ready to celebrate the birth of our Lord,” Pastor Mitchell said, taking the coffee cup. He’d been the local Mennonite church’s minister for the past twenty years at least. He was in his sixties and had a large family of his own. He was kindhearted but could be quite dogmatic. David admired him but didn’t particularly like him.

“More or less. I don’t like to make a huge fuss, especially now that the kids are grown.”

Pastor Mitchell nodded. “Well, I hope you’ll attend church for the next few weeks. The Christmas services aren’t to be missed.”

He waited expectantly for an answer. David had to decide if he was going to simply evade the issue or be honest. But Pastor Mitchell had driven all the way out here; he deserved better than to be lied to. And David suddenly found he did want to talk about it. “I’m not sure when I’ll be coming back. I guess I have some issues with church doctrine these days.”

Pastor Mitchell’s face grew grave. “I’m so sorry to hear that, David. Will you speak with me about it?”

David fiddled with the arm of the chair. Maybe he should have considered how to word it before he’d started this discussion, but it was too late now. He exhaled a sigh. “I always had issue with certain things, but I went to church for Susan’s sake, and for the kids. Now I find my doubts are first and foremost in my mind.”

“What is it that you doubt, David? Do you believe in God?”

“Yes. But I don’t believe God rejects whole groups of people because they’re… they’re Buddhist or Muslim or… or homosexual.” His
Nat Geos
had taken him to many countries and exposed him to many faiths. It always bothered him how the Mennonite church was so ready to dismiss those billions of people because they weren’t born-again Christians. He had a hard time believing an all-knowing God would be that limited in interest and scope.

Pastor Mitchell blinked, as if surprised by David’s answer, but he nodded in acknowledgment. “How God judges an individual is up to God at the moment they meet their maker. It’s not up to us.”

“That’s not what I hear from the pulpit.”

Pastor Mitchell held up a hand. “
However
, that doesn’t excuse us from living according to the scriptures to our best and fullest ability. It’s my job to help people understand what the scriptures say. And according to the scripture, those who don’t accept Jesus Christ cannot enter heaven. And sodomy…. Sodomy is a sin, David.”

David closed his eyes, anger burning in his throat. Yeah, this was only going to get him all upset, and he didn’t need that today. He should just thank the pastor for coming and show him to the door.

“Tell me exactly what it is that troubles you,” Pastor Mitchell urged, his voice kind.

Maybe it was the anger, but David found the words. “I’ve raised two kids and a whole lot of animals, and one thing I’ve learned is that all creatures are born with their own personality. You can nudge it this way and that a little, train their behavior through repetition, reward, or fear, but you can’t change their fundamental nature.”

Pastor Mitchell leaned forward, his eyes intense. “Sin may be part of our fundamental nature because of Eve’s original sin, but we have free will. We can choose God.”

David shook his head. “Who we desire is part of our fundamental nature. Why would God allow a person to be born with a nature they have to fight or deny their entire lives?”

Pastor Mitchell frowned. “I don’t know that I agree that homosexuality is instilled in a man from birth. But even if that’s the case, a righteous man can choose not to indulge it. A person might be born with a propensity for gambling or alcohol, but it’s possible to fight it, with God’s help.”

“It’s not the same thing as drinking or gambling!” David was getting frustrated. “I can’t believe God wants us to go through life without love. Our church allows even ministers to marry, have a family. And
you’re
supposed to have dedicated your whole life to God.” David’s pulse was pounding in his neck. He’d never argued with anyone from the church before. But he couldn’t seem to hold it back now. He clenched his fists on his thighs.

Pastor Mitchell looked thoughtful. He stared out the window for a moment, as if deep in thought. “David, is this because of your neighbor? The one who’s homosexual? Joe mentioned to me that you’ve been sharing meals with this man.”

“Joe told you?” David was shocked and more than a little irritated.

Pastor Mitchell raised his hands in a soothing gesture. “He came to service last Sunday, and I asked about you. I’ve been worried about you since you haven’t been attending church. Joe confided in me that he was concerned for you himself. He mentioned this neighbor, that’s all.”

David pursed his lips. It wasn’t Joe’s place to be discussing him with Pastor Mitchell. “Jesus befriended tax collectors and prostitutes. He said, ‘Let those who are without sin cast the first stone.’ I never got the impression we were only supposed to talk to other Christians.”

“Not at all! We’re to be a light in the world. But he also told Mary Magdalene to
go and sin no more
. David.” Pastor Mitchell looked at him pityingly. “I don’t believe we should reject homosexuals, but they need to give up their sin and repent. If they persist in their lifestyle, then fellowship with them is problematic.”

“By ‘sin no more’ you mean they’re supposed to live the rest of their life celibate or force themselves to have carnal relations with a woman they don’t desire.”

Pastor Mitchell sighed. “God gives each person their own challenges to overcome. If they do, they will be blessed and find peace. Yes, that is what I believe.”

It made sense the way Pastor Mitchell put it, but David knew, from years of pain, it wasn’t like that. He could feel the truth deep inside him now, rigid as his spine. He was barely alive all those years he lived a so-called righteous life. He hadn’t found peace. He’d been nearly suicidal.

“Well. Thank you for coming by,” David said. There was no point in arguing further.

But Pastor Mitchell didn’t get up. He sighed and shook his head. “You wouldn’t be the first to fall away over this issue, David. Homosexuality. Gay marriage. Sometimes it feels like it’s tearing our country, and our church, apart.” He eyed David with deep concern. “Can I ask if this is purely a theological issue for you, son? Or is it a personal one? Will you pray with me about it?”

David knew what the pastor was asking. But he wasn’t about to give him an answer. He stood up. “You can pray for me if you like, Pastor, but right now, I need to get back to work.”

Pastor Mitchell took the hint, but when they got to the door, he turned, his face serious. “David, I’ve known your family for a lot of years, and I know the Fishers were bedrocks of our church long before I got there. You should know that you are an example—to your children, even though they’re grown, and to your community. Whatever you’re wrestling with, you need the church now more than ever. Please come to services. And consider allowing me to counsel you. I want to help. I can come back another time if it’s more convenient.”

“I’ll think about it,” David conceded. He reached out his hand and the pastor shook it.

“God be with you, brother.”

 

 

CHRISTIE SPENT
more and more time with David over the next few weeks. They’d been drawn together before, but that felt like nothing compared to the magnetic pull between them now that they were lovers. The word “greedy” came to Christie’s mind. Fierce Christie.
Greedy
Christie. He was greedy for every moment of time he could get with David. And if he wasn’t finagling some way for them to be together, David was.

They ran together three mornings a week. On the mornings they didn’t run together, Christie went over to the farm with David first thing in the morning to get in an hour of physical labor before he started his desk job at home. They texted each other throughout the day, had dinner together every night, and most evenings, David slept at Christie’s house. He’d walk back to the farm after helping Christie clean up dishes. He’d do his evening chores, then come back to spend the night.

Christie had always been fond of Aunt Ruth’s little bedroom. He splurged when he first arrived on a midnight-blue comforter with cream trim, cream pillows, and high-thread-count blue sheets. But now that David was in his bed at night, it finally felt like his own room, like a little oasis they’d carved out for the two of them.

Christie tried to savor this first heady bloom of love without worrying about the future, and he could tell David was trying to do the same. They didn’t talk about it. It was too fragile and new, like a beautiful soap bubble. Maybe because they were friends first, now that they were intimate, now that Christie was allowed to touch David, kiss him, and take him to bed, his emotions were already at “ten.”

David was unlike any man Christie had ever been with. Most guys Christie’s age were so self-centered. David was the opposite of that. He was honorable, family-centered, home-centered. He was humble—almost too much so. And he was curious, still impressed by the world. Best of all he touched Christie like he was always amazed he could do it, couldn’t believe Christie was real. He touched Christie as if he loved him.

But they didn’t say the words. They were only together about a week when David raised the issue of the holidays. They were lying in bed together at Christie’s house, watching snow fall outside the window.

“Amy and Joe are coming home for Christmas. My mom and Aunt Gladys are coming up from Florida too.” His eyes were fixed on the snow, but his brow was furrowed into a frown as if he wasn’t sure how Christie would take the news.

Christie wasn’t surprised, but it felt shitty all the same. He tried to view it practically. No way was he ready for a repeat of Thanksgiving. “That’ll be nice for you. I’m thinking about going to New York for a week. Kyle and Billy invited me to stay with them.”

“You could see all your old friends. You must miss the city terribly.” David turned his head to look at Christie. There was a note of doubt in his voice, like maybe he was worried Christie would decide he liked it so much he’d just stay.

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