Innocence Lost aradise Found Ch. 03 by Brunosden

Innocence Lost aradise Found Ch. 03 by Brunosden

Delve into Chapter 3 of 'Innocence Lost, Paradise Found'—a captivating gay erotic sex story that explores desire, passion, and the complexities of love. Join the journey of self-discovery and encounter unforgettable moments that redefine innocence. Read now for an enticing experience!<br/>

Andre and Finn in Boston and at War

This story is set near the end of the Age of American Innocence. —it is obviously a later chapter in the series. It would be very helpful if you at least skimmed the first for character development and a feel for the times. It really is hard to imagine that gay sex has moved so quickly to where it is today. Open gay sex is relatively new—and still has spotty toleration. The notion of a prostate as a sexual organ was known to very few only a few years ago. And almost no families (particularly Catholic and Fundamental Christian families) talked about any aspect of sex at all. All characters engaging in sexual activity are over 18. BD

The first few paragraphs summarize where we are….

Two handsome, but very different, young guys met in the hot summer of 1941. One is the rakish-looking, only son of a landed (but poor) French Canadian immigrant family in Western Massachusetts. He had spent the summer working on the family farm and was headed off to begin his junior year at Harvard College in Cambridge. (This was not the Harvard University of the post-war period which most think of now. It was then a learned, but sheltered place, one step above the seminary it had once been, with very restrictive codes of conduct still in place. The war would end most of them.)

The other was a third generation Irish immigrant from the south side of Boston, a stonemason by trade—the New Deal was taking effect and building trades were beginning to find work—particularly on public projects. So Finn had hired out as a farm hand for the summer at a neighboring farm. He too was handsome in that particularly Irish way: he was a ginger, freckled, with smiling eyes, but not a leprechaun—he was tall and well-muscled from hard labor—of Celtic Viking stock.

Both were typically innocent about sexual matters—an innocence that would be nearly impossible iin the 2020s.

The two met at a local public swimming hole where young men often skinny-dipped late in the day after the families left and their work was finished.

They were together for only three weeks before the summer ended. But, in that time they had made the unlikely transition from curious, innocent boys (yes, 20-something innocent “boys” did exist prior to WWII, and the much later development of DVD/Blu-ray, and the internet) to insatiable man-lovers. There were a few muscle mags, but most were handled only under the counter to embarrassed purchasers. Everything even remotely explicitly sexual was black market and rare.

It all started by accident: Both went swimming. Finn was very attracted to Andre (whom he encountered pleasuring himself on a remote rock ledge at the far end of the pond) and his hormones took over. As in many such situations, it started with a casual touch, then mutual jerks, continued to a blow and concluded in bed. Each was yet to discover whether he was top, bottom or vers—they barely knew the words. At the end of the last chapter, both had lost their virginity and their cherries. But, they were still very much at the experimental stage of sexual awakening. And neither thought much about sex labels.

Toward the end of the time together, Andre and Finn each realized their future was cloudy, but they put the premonitions aside and just enjoyed the moments they had together. In that sense, their experience paralleled so many in those years. Gays had no rights before the 21st century. In fact, in many places inside and outside the US, they were criminals, even capital offenders. Younger contemporary readers might easily ignore this simple fact of history.

Andre was headed back to Harvard where he would be dorm-ed in a rigidly closed “house” with little free time, a demanding curriculum and less freedom. His mother and an acquaintance had planned his marital future. He was going to spend a year or two courting one of the daughters of haute Boston: Suzanne Cartier, a young attractive girl that Andre barely knew, and presumably marry her after graduation.

Meanwhile, Finn’s Da had managed to secure him a position as a stonemason’s helper. The patronage-granting Democrat machine in Boston had awarded a Federal contract to build and reinforce stone bridge abutments on the Charles River to a drinking buddy of Francis X. O’Neill, and Frank had inserted his son into the lineup of those being employed.

Both Andre and Finn were headed east, to cities only a few miles apart, but their worlds were going to be very different, and it was unlikely their circles would intersect again. Promises were made, but fulfillment would be difficult and unlikely.

*******

Andre’s classes started on the first Tuesday in September. A violent thunderstorm the previous evening had brought the temperatures down and a promise of early fall to Cambridge. As a junior, Andre was able to secure a single room in Winthrop House, a large neo-classical set of buildings with courtyards facing the Charles River. He would share a common bath with others on his floor, but in a stroke of luck, his third floor room had a view of the river. Andre had installed himself quickly. He had only a valise of clothes which he had brought on the train and the streetcar to reach Cambridge. Harvard delivered a wooden “summer storage” box that contained his books and the other items that he had collected over two years of dormitory life. They did NOT include a TV, laptop, micro or fridge—all of which would have been foreign to an undergrad room at the time!

Finn had left the previous day from Noubois, on the same train (there were only two each day) and was home in Boston getting ready to begin work on Tuesday. Finn was joining a crew of stonemasons who would leave South Boston each day before dawn to reach the current work site at the river which separated Boston from Cambridge, returning each night by streetcar to home—with perhaps a mile or more of walking at each end. A secure tent had been set up on the Cambridge side of the river and tools could be left at the jobsite—so the trek was not with a heavy bag of tools. A few guys even stashed a change of clothes in the tent—so they could go out to celebrate payday (TGIF) without first going home.

But the pay was good–$.80 per hour—and the promised workweek of 60 hours, meant that, after deductions, Finn would have $40 per week. Ma and Da took half for his R&B and another quarter to “save” for his future needs. The rest was his for streetcar fare and his personal expenses. It was more money than he had ever seen in his life.

He and Finn had said their farewells on Thursday night at the pond. Andre had “hired out” to the same farm which employed Finn for a week, but had returned home to finish out his last week at his father’s farm. So Saturday, a week ago, had been their last night with a bed in the bunkhouse they had shared.

It had been a full night of sex. Their skills at arousing and pleasing had grown to meet their passion in just a few short days. Each learned the erogenous zones of the other pretty quickly. Finn’s were his nipples and his ear lobes; Andre’s were all concentrated around his shaft: the taint, the ball sacs and the rim.

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