What We Did Behind the Blacksmith’s Forge

In the county of Mersley there were two rules that anyone had to obey if they wanted to live in peace: be useful and be a good Christian. Anyone who had a trade, devoted themselves to it with care, and didn’t go looking for trouble could expect a quiet life. Idlers and wrongdoers, on the other hand, were pursued relentlessly by the law, and if the guards got their hands on them, they ended their days in the darkness of a dungeon, where the walls swallowed up both their lives and their names.

In those times, climbing the social ladder was an unthinkable idea for the lower classes. Their chances of prospering were reduced to three: enter the clergy, enlist in their feudal lord’s ranks, or follow their parents’ trade. Eadric, with his copper hair and skin freckled all over, had taken the last path. There was little choice in it, either. Since he learned to walk, his father had put the charcoal-maker’s trade into his body, and the art of making charcoal had almost entered his very blood. Now, a young man on the verge of marriageable age, he devoted body and soul to that work alongside his father and brothers.

That day dawned cloudy and leaden, with the threat of rain that would never actually fall. The wind barely moved and, though a cool feeling hung in the air, it was easy enough to bear. As soon as they got up, the whole family set to their tasks. Among Eadric’s jobs was carrying sacks of charcoal and taking them to whoever asked for them and paid for them. That day he had to go to the smithy, one of his best customers because of the constant need for that raw material to feed the forge’s flames. Eadric did not protest. He didn’t mind running those errands, even hauling such a heavy bundle on foot.

It took him a little over an hour to reach the forge, which greeted him with a blast of hot air that flushed his cheeks and a strong smell of sulfur and smoke. It was well supplied: shelves full of goods, an anvil, a huge chimney spitting orange flashes, and an old table covered with tools. At that moment there was only one person inside, a hefty boy with broad, hairy arms, a little singed around the wrists. He was the blacksmith’s son, about his own age. He had known him for many years.

—Good morning, Brand. Is your father here?

—Good morning. No, he’s gone to see the earl. He was summoned to his tower.

—Is that so? Is there going to be a war?

—No idea. He didn’t tell me anything when he left.

—Well… It’s delivery day. I’ve brought more charcoal.

—Perfect. Bring it this way.

Brand took off his dirty leather apron and led him through a door at the back of the room. They crossed a narrow passage and emerged into a back courtyard enclosed between the buildings. It was a paved space with a shed where they kept much of the production, a woodpile, a charcoal store, and a few crates and barrels.

—Come on, I’ll help you unload —said Brand.

Between the two of them they untied the mouth of the sack and emptied the dark stones beside the rest, until not even dust remained inside. When it was empty, Eadric picked up the bag to take it back with him. Suddenly he found Brand’s lips on his, launching themselves over his own to steal a kiss from him. He tasted them for a few seconds, rough with his sparse beard, with a burning aftertaste, before pulling away.

—You can’t leave the forge alone —he said.

—Just for a moment. Or is it that you don’t want me anymore?

—Of course I want you.

—Then come here.

Brand grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him to a discreet corner behind the woodpile, where no one could see them, to join their mouths again.

Ever since before leaving home, Eadric had been nursing the hope in his chest that Brand’s father would be out, so he could enjoy a little time alone with him. What they had started as an apparent friendship, the result of the close professional relationship between the blacksmith and the charcoal-maker, had changed over time. Though Brand was not especially handsome, with his sturdy build and broad shoulders, Eadric, thinner by comparison, adored him. It all began with a mutual suspicion, with looks that crossed in the silence of wordless conversations, not knowing whether they could trust each other with the secret. Until a moment of solitude gave them the courage to confess it. Since then, every meeting became a display of passion. Though both of them pretended to be interested in women, especially to deflect suspicion, what they truly enjoyed was the other’s intimate company.

***

There, in that corner they had shared so many times, they felt safe. It had become their refuge. They did not understand how the Church could condemn an act that brought them so close to something like glory. Luckily, in that courtyard they were immune to its tentacles. They could let go without any moral decree restraining them and undress as if uncovering a gift hidden beneath a blanket. Their skin craved the other’s hairy touch, more abundant in Brand, whose generous build concealed a quiet strength.

Brand nearly ripped Eadric’s charcoal-stained shirt off him. He ran his rough hands over Eadric’s hairless, freckled chest and pinched his nipples until they stood hard, drawing a gasp from him. Then he moved down his narrow body to his trousers, tugging at the laces with the impatience of someone who had been thinking about it for hours, and made him lower those too. Eadric’s cock sprang into the cold air, already half hard, foreskin pulled back and the glans shiny with a clear drop pointing toward the ground. Brand licked his lips before dropping to one knee on the paving stones.

—Look at how hard you are —he murmured—. And I’ve barely touched you.

—Shut up and suck it already.

The same lips that had trapped his mouth before now conquered his bare, erect shaft. Brand’s hot tongue traveled its whole length, from root to tip, and then moved back down slowly, coating his cock with saliva before swallowing it in one stroke. Eadric writhed at the tickle of the tongue and the rough scrape of beard against his balls. He pressed himself against the cold wall in an attempt to hold on, shuddering every time Brand touched some sensitive nerve. Brand sucked his cock with genuine hunger, taking it out of his mouth to drag his tongue under the glans, at that spot that drove him mad, and then taking it back to the base again, until his nose sank into the copper pubic hair. His skin prickled with every wave that rose through his body. He felt the blacksmith’s throat close around his head, swallowing it, milking it with slow, greedy sucks.

—Do you like it? —Brand asked, pulling back for an instant, his chin shining with spit.

—A lot… —Eadric muttered—. Keep going, bastard, keep sucking it like that.

Brand obeyed and grabbed his balls with his free hand, weighing them, while the other squeezed one cheek and pushed him toward his mouth. Eadric fucked his face with short thrusts, unable to keep still, watching his cock disappear again and again between the blacksmith’s reddened lips. He could already feel the dangerous tingling rising through his groin and had to pull Brand’s hair to make him stop before he came too soon.

—Come here, I know you like this too —he said, panting.

Brand removed the thick wool jerkin that protected him from the heat of the forge and they switched positions. He pulled his hose down to his knees and exposed a thick cock with a purple head, as wide as the handle of a small hammer, escorted by two heavy balls hanging between his hairy thighs. Neither of them lacked size. Eadric might have been longer, but in width the kingdom belonged to Brand. It was a full feast for the charcoal-maker’s son, who knelt on the cold slabs and took it in hand, clinging to his lover’s thighs.

He ran his tongue over Brand’s balls first, one and then the other, sucking them whole while Brand let out a rough groan. Then he moved up the thick vein that ran along his cock and licked the tip, savoring the thick, salty drop that had gathered there. He took the glans into his mouth and worked it with his lips, pampering it, until he dared to go lower. Brand’s cock was so wide that it opened Eadric’s mouth wide and scraped his palate. He helped himself with his hand, gripping the base, while his tongue worked what he could fit inside. Brand did not writhe as he did. Perhaps he did not do it as well. Even so, his face stayed tilted in an expression of pleasure, eyes closed as if some divine light were blinding him.

—Keep going like that… —he whispered in a thick voice—. Swallow it all, Eadric… just like that, good little cocksucker…

Though he did not shake as much as Eadric, Brand did feel a slight tremor in his legs, like a sword that has taken a heavy blow and vibrates with the force of the impact. His broad hands, the same ones that bent metal with skill, settled on Eadric’s head, almost like a priest blessing a stray sheep. Only his fingers tangled in the thick hair and dug into the scalp with the intensity of the moment, setting the pace, pushing Eadric’s face against his groin until the black, coarse hair scraped his nose. Eadric choked, coughed, his eyes filled with tears, and yet he kept swallowing, kept sucking, cheeks hollowed out and tongue working the underside of the head.

He did not let go until he had had his fill. Then he stood up and, now at Eadric’s height, took the member he had been tasting in hand and massaged it, feeling it throb and slide between his fingers thanks to the saliva, while he buried his face in the thick dark hair of Brand’s chest and bit one nipple. Brand returned the favor and took Eadric’s impatient manhood in hand, spat into his palm to lubricate it better, and started working it with the same firm rhythm with which he struck the anvil, the two of them staring into each other’s eyes while sensations ran through their bodies like shocks. They rubbed their cocks together, each with one hand on the other’s, drawing muffled growls from one another.

—I was the woman last time, right? —Brand murmured.

—That’s right —Eadric answered firmly.

—Come here. Show me that arse of yours already.

Eadric braced himself facing the cold wall and stuck his backside out, arching his back. Brand ran his palm over Eadric’s pale, skinny buttocks, pulled them apart, and gazed, with a lustful smile, at the small tight ring peeking out between them.

***

He brought two fingers to his mouth, got them good and wet, and pressed them against Eadric’s arse, pushing until they sank inside. His lover moaned and his belly trembled. Brand moved them inside, opening him, probing, until he found that soft spot in his guts that made Eadric shove his arse back with a gasp. Then he spat on his hand, coated his thick cock well, and lubricated the charcoal-maker’s hole with more saliva before making his way between his lover’s thin buttocks. Eadric moaned loudly and tensed with the first thrust, pressing his cheek against the icy stones.

—Hold on, hold on… —Brand whispered in his ear, stopping with only the head inside—. Open yourself for me, fuck…

Those were times when flesh was rarely tasted, and even less in that way, and Brand had more than enough to offer. It took several minutes of slow progress before the charcoal-maker’s son adjusted, feeling that thick cock opening a path for him inch by inch, burning him, filling him completely until the blacksmith’s heavy balls struck the root of his own and he felt the rough hairs of Brand’s groin pressed against his buttocks. He stayed like that for a moment, impaled, panting, until he himself began to rock his hips, asking for more.

Just like with his trade, Brand was a patient, devoted lover. He knew when iron had to be treated carefully and when a good blow was needed to tame it. With his lover he liked to alternate between both modes. He moved inside him gently, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in slowly so he could feel every inch, and when he felt the friction lose its fire, he fucked him hard. One single thrust, nothing more, adding the drive of his hips to a sharp tug from Eadric’s. The combined effect made Eadric shudder and drew from him a muffled cry that escaped weakly through his throat. A sound that, luckily for both of them, never got too loud.

—You’ve got such a tight arse, bastard… —Brand growled in his ear, gripping his bony hips—. You’re milking my cock…

—Fuck me harder —Eadric begged him, his forehead against the stone and his own cock bobbing in the air—. Break me, Brand, more…

The blacksmith obliged. He braced one hand on the wall, above the charcoal-maker’s shoulder, and with the other he grabbed Eadric’s hard, dripping cock to jerk him off to the rhythm of his thrusts. Each hard strike of his hips against Eadric’s buttocks sounded like a muffled slap in that silent courtyard. The thick cock went in and out slick with saliva, drawing moan after moan from Eadric, which he tried to swallow by biting the back of his hand.

When it was Eadric’s turn to be the man, however, he was usually more steady. He clung to Brand’s waist and drove into his broad buttocks with firmness, burying his long cock to the hilt, never relenting in his thrusts until the end approached. He loved watching the blacksmith’s furry hole open around his cock and close again each time he pulled out. The blacksmith’s son, with his more practiced technique, could hold off his own urge to come a little longer. He fought against it while he kept making love to him, but there were things that could not be avoided.

This time, though, it was Brand who was inside, and he was the first to feel the climax rushing over him like an anvil. He quickened his thrusts, growling low, and when Eadric felt that cock swell even more inside him he knew it was time. Brand pulled out abruptly, panting, and spilled over his lover’s buttocks and lower back in jet after jet. The thick, hot semen slid down the cleft of Eadric’s arse to his thighs. Feeling that warm liquid running over his skin, Eadric jerked himself off twice in anger and came too, splashing the stone with thick white strands that struck the corner. As soon as they could, the two of them finished against the nearest discreet corner. The thick drops fell onto the stones, where they would later seep through for the earth to take care of.

They stayed like that for a moment, Brand pressed against Eadric’s back, his cock still half hard and leaking against his buttocks, breathing the same air, until they separated with a muffled laugh. Brand wiped the worst of it away with an old rag hanging from a nail in the woodpile, passing it between Eadric’s buttocks with clumsy tenderness.

Once satisfied, the heat their bodies had built up began to disperse. They became aware again of the gray cold surrounding them, which for a while they had colored with their company. Their skin demanded the shelter of clothing, and they picked it up from the ground by the charcoal store, where it had been left thrown aside. Just in time. They were pulling their undergarments back on when a thundering voice came from the forge.

—Brand! Where the hell have you got to?!

No explanation was needed. Eadric knew perfectly well it was his lover’s father, back from the earl’s palace. They straightened themselves as best they could and hurried to the workshop, with nothing about them betraying what they had just done.

—I’m here, Father.

—What were you doing back there? You left the workshop alone!

—Eadric came with another load of charcoal. I was helping him unload it.

His burst of anger had kept him from noticing Eadric’s presence. As soon as he did, the swollen vein on his forehead began to subside.

—Very well. Has Brand paid you already?

—No, sir —Eadric replied—. He hasn’t had time.

His words hid more than one meaning that the blacksmith would never have suspected. The man took some coins from a chest whose existence Eadric knew very well and handed them over.

—Here you are. And give your father my thanks.

—I will, sir. Have a good day.

He took his leave with a wave of his hand and a fleeting, discreet wink for Brand. Then he went off, metal in hand and a broad smile on his face, still feeling the blacksmith’s semen drying between his buttocks under his clothes. After that dose of passion and affection, the day would be much easier to bear.