We woke the next day and headed over to the church where Mack grew up. His parents had been members their entire lives and were holding a small luncheon of about 20 people to celebrate their anniversary. I met a few of his parent's friends, most of whom were polite and cordial, if not slightly scandalized by presence. Nonetheless, everyone was lovely and we were there to celebrate his parent's 50th wedding anniversary.
Towards the end of the luncheon, Mack lifted his glass to make a toast to his parents. "Friends, I want to thank you for coming to celebrate my mom and dad. We Manning men are not much for words in public, but I want to tell you that there are no two people that I admire more in the world than my mom and dad. They gave me the most incredible life and I hope someday I have a marriage as loving and committed as the two of them." He looked at me as he said this and I felt myself blush. Damn I love this man!
Mack paused and I could tell he was trying not to tear up.
"Mom and dad, you gave me everything you had when I was growing up. You worked hard, volunteered at this church, helped me with my homework, and made sure I did my chores." Everyone chuckled as he continued.
"I wanted to do something for you to show you how much you mean to me. I know you won't want any 'presents'—really, my daddy just doesn't want to write the thank you notes," we all laughed, including Mr. Manning, who nodded that Mack was correct. "But it wouldn't have been right to let 50 years pass and not give you a little something."
His parents eyes widened as Mack presented each of them with an envelope. The room was quiet as they opened them.
Mack's father's hands were a bit shakey as he read his note and then stood up to hug his son. His mom's tears flowed rather freely as she kept shaking her head. Finally, the minister asked, "What did you get them?"
Mack established a fund at the church in honor of his parents, so no child in the community would ever have to worry about paying for school lunch again. And, to celebrate their love and commitment, he bought them a one week cruise in the Bahamas. And he handed me an envelope as well. I opened it. It turns out, we were going with them! I was stunned.
"I know I should have asked," he whispered to me, "but the first time we're all on an airplane, I wanted it to be with you." I nodded with a huge lump in my throat. "Of course we'll go," I smiled. "Thank you."
The party ended, we cleaned up and headed back home while his parents went to play Bridge with a neighbor.
Mack pulled me into the shower. "I need you. NOW!" My big bear of a man was hungry for my dick and I was happy to oblige. But first—I had to suck his cock and then find my way to lick his sweet, hairy ass.
As the warm water rushed over us, Mack moaned as I probed him with my tongue. His legs shuddered.
"Oh Adam, that feels so good," he moaned. I probed deeper and added a finger to get him ready. His ass pushed back, letting him know he was hungry for my dick, which was now dripping with anticipation.
I stoop and turned him away so I could enter from behind.
"Damn, your ass is tight," I moaned as I bit his neck and slowly entered him. It was hot inside and he gasped.
"Your cock is so big, Adam," he groaned.
We had a rhythm, but something about fucking in the home where he grew up turned both of us on.
"Ahhhh," he moaned and bucked his ass back onto my cock, clamping down. The pressure was too much as I emptied my balls inside his warm ass.
Panting, he turned around and kissed me, deeply and passionately. We toweled off and took a nap.
That night, after dinner and his parent's endless questions and excitement about our cruise, Mack drove me to the local bar where he hung out occasionally during college. It was a small town bar, well kept, with live music and locally brewed beer. They also had the most fantastic French fries! I had eaten almost half a basket of them when Mack suddenly looked horrified. "Oh God," he lamented, "I think they're made with pork fat! I'm so sorry Adam!"
The poor guy looked truly heartsick.
I laughed as I put down the half-eaten French fry I was holding. "I knew there was a reason they tasted so good."
"I'm sorry, I should have asked," my sweet boyfriend apologized.
I waved my hand. "C'mon, you didn't know. And I could have asked. Besides, it isn't the end of the world. Not a big deal." I shook my head. "Of all the delicious foods my people decided weren't kosher, we had to pick pork!" I fake smiled, "I mean c'mon. They could have picked cilantro." We both laughed.
Mack smiled his big smile as he pulled out one of his cigars. "When we get home," he said as he light up—in this particular bar, everyone was smoking—"I'm gonna give you the best thank you," as his foot pressed against mine under the table.
I winked at him. He knew that while I wasn't a smoker, the sight of him smoking a cigar was a huge turn on. I wasn't all that kinky, but fuck—my guy smoking a cigar got me instantly hard!
As Mack was smoking a cigar and we were talking about his growing up in this small town, a guy and woman about our age approached the table. Mack suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
"Mack," the man said, "it's good to see you. How are you?"
The color drained from Mack's face for a quick minute before he recovered.
"Jim, Tracy. Good to see you. How you been?" He asked. Now, my boyfriend is somewhat reserved, but I'd never seen him cold to anyone before. Clearly, there was history here.
