Healing Hands: Chapter 6

Since reconnecting with his Jewish heritage in October, Anthony had taken to leaving work early on Fridays unless there was an emergency, and Sören was a remote worker who only worked a few hours per day, so Anthony was able to pick him and his cat up in the late afternoon. Sören gave Anthony a big hug and a kiss on the lips when he got in the car, and once they were at Anthony's house and stepped into the foyer and Sören let Snúður out of the cat carrier, Anthony and Sören paused, looked at each other, and leaned in for a deeper kiss, tongues teasing with a promise of passion later.

"We better behave if we're going to make it to services tonight," Anthony said with a mock stern look.

"Oh, but getting you worked up is fun." Sören attempted a wink, then gave a sassy butt wiggle.

Anthony's response to that was to smack Sören's ass - making Sören's cunt twinge, already getting wet for him - and then Anthony took Sören by the arm and marched him to the kitchen.

It was the second night of Hanukkah, and their shul was having a dinner as well as services. Anthony had volunteered to make a few batches of latkes - they were going to need a lot of latkes, several people were also volunteering - and after coffee, Anthony and Sören got to work. Sören put on Beyonce as they put the ingredients together and monitored the latkes frying on the stove, and Anthony chuckled at Sören disco dancing as he worked. He laughed harder when Sören began dancing badly on purpose, with awkward ill-timed kicks and jerky arm movements.

Along with assembling and frying the latkes, Anthony and Sören worked on making challah together, braiding the dough and brushing it with an egg wash, and when it was finished baking Anthony put it in a food storage bag so the cats couldn't get it while they were at shul.

Once the latkes were made they changed into their clothes for shul - Sören had brought a duffel bag for the weekend, and put on a royal blue button-down with a black sweater vest, black trousers and the Bukharian kippah he reserved for holidays, blue with gold-and-silver iridescent metallic embroidered scrollwork. Anthony wore a navy sportcoat and trousers with a lighter blue button-down, and a knit white kippah with a rim in diagonal stripes of lighter and darker blue. "You look sharp," Sören said, tugging on the collar of Anthony's shirt as he leaned up to give him a little kiss.

"You look gorgeous," Anthony said. He touched Sören's cheek. "You'll be the best looking guy at shul."

"Considering almost all of them are alte kockers, that's a low bar." Sören enjoyed slipping in bits of Yiddish here and there.

Anthony laughed. "I'm an alte kocker now too, you know."

"Not that old. You're not, like, old enough to be my dad." Sören bit his lower lip and glanced off to the side, and stopped himself from admitting he'd called Anthony "Daddy" in his fantasies.

Anthony seemed to catch it, however, smirking as he pulled Sören closer and stole another kiss. "I'm old enough for you to be my baby boy." He kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "My good boy."

Sören's stomach fluttered, feeling that warm glow of praise. Then it slipped out. "Pabbi."

Anthony's eyes widened and for the briefest instant Sören worried he'd caused offense, and that Anthony was going to think he was some kind of freak especially with his trauma history - but for Sören it wasn't about incest, it was about the way Anthony took care of him and made him feel safe - and then Anthony's face lit up and his arms tightened around him, rocking him a little. "Yes, sweetheart. You can be Daddy's boy."

Elated, Sören had to resist the urge to drag Anthony to the bedroom - he behaved himself, but it was going to be a long evening.

It was sundown now, and Anthony took Sören over to the LED Chanukiah he had on display in the living room front window. "It's not traditional - even though the Judaica store I bought it from says it is..." Anthony rolled his eyes and Sören cackled. "But it's safer to leave unattended with the fuzzbutts." Anthony looked down at Shmuel, who was circling around their ankles and stopped to look up at them with big eyes as if to say I would never.

Anthony lit the Chanukiah for the second night with the blessings - the lights glowed blue - then after feeding the cats and giving skritches, they loaded up the car with their food storage containers full of latkes - they'd made ninety latkes. As they drove down to Portland, they listened to Jamiroquai and Sören did dorky dances in his seat to make Anthony laugh again. Sören loved making him laugh, and he loved that he could be a complete goofball in front of Anthony and not be judged for it.

Sören still felt a bit nervous at services - he always felt higher anxiety in crowds, and he was still getting to know the local congregation. But he still enjoyed the service and the dinner afterwards, and he was delighted when a few people remarked that he and Anthony made a cute couple.

On the way back they took a detour to pull over, get out of the car and look at Chabad's public menorah at City Hall in Portland, which made Sören feel happy even though neither of them were Chabadniks - it felt all the more meaningful this year to see public Hanukkah displays, each one was another shield wall of courage and pride against the rising tide of antisemitism, a small but powerful act of resistance. Sören got a bit choked up, and Anthony hugged him.

"I'm proud of you for wearing your kippot in public again, if I haven't said this already," Anthony said.

Those words meant a lot to Sören and to keep from falling apart, he took the window of opportunity for levity. "Hi Proud Of You For Wearing Your Kippot In Public Again -"

Anthony groaned loudly and elbowed him, but was grinning and shaking with silent laughter. Sören leaned on him and Anthony kissed his cheek, then they rubbed noses.

Once they pulled in to the driveway, Anthony lingered before getting out. "Sören?"

"Hm?"

"I know you told me not to try to win the Allyship Olympics, but I don't want to end up accidentally offending you by assuming things, so... what do you call your bits?"

Sören couldn't help laughing, and Anthony laughed too, turning beetroot. "I'm sorry," Sören wheezed.

"You call it I'm Sorry?"

Sören gave him noogies, and Anthony stuck a wet finger in Sören's ear. Then Sören shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't really thought about it, because I've never had consensual sex before."

"OK. Well, I hate to put you on the spot, but I didn't want to ask you when we... start... and kill the mood."

Sören had to rib Anthony right back. "We can call it George."

Anthony facepalmed and gave an exaggerated groan, and when he pulled his hand away he was grinning. "We are both completely ludicrous."

"You can be Ludacris, I'd rather be Biggie or Tupac." Sören knew what he meant, of course.

Anthony laughed harder, silenced Sören with a kiss, and then he gave Sören a mock stern look. "Serious business now."

"Right." Sören nodded. He took a moment and went with his gut. "So... I think words like 'vagina' would be too clinical and formal, and 'hole' feels objectifying and uncomfortable. You're British, so 'cunt' doesn't feel so much like misgendering -"

Anthony howled.

Sören smiled and went on, "And I guess pussy is fine too, since I've heard gay bottoms use it, and cock or dick or clit is fine."

Anthony raised his eyebrows. "And just to clarify, you do have your original plumbing...?"

"Jæja, I haven't had a meta or phallo and I don't want one. It wouldn't work or look how I want it to and that would just make me more dysphoric. My top dysphoria was a lot worse than my bottom dysphoria, anyway."

"On that note..." Anthony looked at Sören's chest, then back up. "You have your nipples pierced. Is that for aesthetic, or is that an invitation to play with them?"

"Both," Sören said, resisting the urge to maul Anthony right then and there as his mind raced with delicious mental images of Anthony exploring his body - and exploring him in turn. "I got them pierced after I had top surgery as a way of feeling confident and sexy, feeling more like my body was mine, plus it was a way to increase sensitivity there after the top surgery."

"OK." Anthony bit his lower lip.

"OK."

"All right."

"All right."

They looked at each other and simultaneously recited the famous line from Outkast. "All right all right all right all right all right all right all right all right -"

They laughed together, shared a kiss, and then Anthony led Sören inside.




After Sören took a shower and towelled off, instead of changing into pajamas he walked naked from the bathroom into Anthony's bedroom - which had more greys and blues and less earth tones than the living room - and found that the bed was already turned down, the lights were dim and a few LED lanterns were glowing around the room and a string of warm-white fairy lights was wound around the posts of the four-poster bed, giving the bedroom a romantic atmosphere.

Anthony was naked on the bed... with a plate of challah slices and a bottle of honey.

"I know there was a lot of food at the Hanukkah dinner but I thought you might have room for challah," Anthony said, looking at Sören naked for the first time.

"I still have a bit of an appetite," Sören said, looking at Anthony's erection; Anthony smirked at the innuendo.

Sören climbed onto the bed, and took a good look at Anthony, getting hard and wet with desire. Anthony was just as hairy as he'd hoped - a dark pelt on his chest fuzzing down his abdomen with a delicious treasure trail, furry arms and legs, a thick bush. Anthony's cock was about eight inches long and almost as girthy as a Coke can, which Sören found a little intimidating but also sexy as hell. He wanted to lick Anthony all over, he wanted to choke on Anthony's cock. He made a mental note to get a bigger dildo to fuck himself with and loosen up more in preparation for feeling that magnificent cock inside him, and then he couldn't think at all when Anthony pulled him into a deep, sensual kiss.

Anthony looked him up and down, eyes lingering at Sören's curly bush and his bottom growth - an almost two-inch clit jutting out like a hard little cock, meaty lips dangling almost like a set of balls. Sören felt that instant of brief panic, remembering when the one guy who'd initially wanted to fuck him just put on his pants and went home once he saw the reality of what Sören had to work with, despite being informed in advance. But then Anthony licked his lips, moved in closer, and kissed Sören again, and guided Sören's hand to his hard cock. Sören shivered at the feel of Anthony's cock pulsating in his hand, making him drip with need.

After another kiss, Anthony pulled back and began to drizzle honey on the sliced challah. "I know this is something newlyweds usually do and we're not married..." Anthony looked off to the side and Sören could practically hear the unspoken yet at the end of the sentence, which made his stomach flutter. Then their eyes met. "But I feel we have a powerful connection already, and tonight you're giving me something special, something sacred." Anthony put his hand on his heart.

Sören smiled, feeling a tight ache in his chest, feeling that dizzying rush of passion.

"I love you," Anthony whispered.

"Ég elska þig, elskan." Sören spoke the words sincerely, from the heart - he'd fallen hard for Anthony these last few weeks, and it was a joy to know that love was returned.

Anthony moved in closer. "Ani ohev otcha, lev sheli." He picked up a piece of honey-topped challah and brought it to Sören's lips.

Sören ate the bread from Anthony's hand, and then he playfully sucked the honey from Anthony's fingers, making Anthony growl. When he was done, it was his turn, and Anthony returned the favor, licking and sucking honey from Sören's fingers and thumb in a most suggestive manner. Sören felt ready to climb the walls from sexual frustration, but he accepted another piece of bread, and this time he sucked on Anthony's fingers more slowly and deliberately, knowing what Anthony was being reminded of. After Sören fed him bread, Anthony licked and sucked Sören's fingers again and this time he licked honey from Sören's palm - Sören never knew his hand was so sensitive, and he heard himself moan.

They each had one more slice of challah. This time Sören also licked and kissed Anthony's palm, and bobbed his head as he sucked Anthony's fingers, letting the fingers glide in and out of his mouth. Then Anthony poured more honey on the last piece, enough that it made a mess and Anthony really had to use his tongue to clean up Sören's fingers and hand - and with honey on his tongue he leaned in to kiss Sören open-mouthed, tongues teasing, before a deeper kiss.

"Delicious," Anthony husked. "But now there's something else I'm hungry for." Anthony put the plate on to the nightstand off to the side.

With a kiss, Anthony gently pushed Sören back against the pillows, and Sören braced himself, cunt aching for relief. But Anthony took his sweet time getting there - literally. Anthony poured honey over Sören's hard nipples, and flashed a wicked grin before he bent his head and began to lap at Sören's right nipple. Sören gasped as Anthony's tongue lashed, each stroke sending fire through his veins. "Like that, baby?" Anthony purred.

"Yes, Daddy..." Sören bit his lower lip and whimpered.

Anthony drew the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and tugging with his lips. Sören cried out and clutched at him, drowning in exquisite sensation. He cried out again as Anthony licked it some more. Then Anthony turned his head to the left nipple and did the same, tongue fluttering, rubbing, before he suckled, making Sören writhe, panting for it. Back and forth Anthony went, his tongue and lips exciting Sören's pierced nipples into thick peaks. Sören was already so close to coming and Anthony hadn't even touched his cunt yet.

Anthony poured more honey onto Sören's stomach, and licked and kissed it off. Sören arched to him, breath in shuddery gasps, his entire body electrified by Anthony's tongue. Anthony poured honey over Sören's right thigh and lapped it up, then the left thigh. Sören could feel himself dripping so much there was a wet spot underneath him, and at last Anthony took a good look at him spread and creaming, and the way Anthony moaned at the sight of him almost made Sören come untouched.

Anthony rubbed his nose in Sören's bush, then he took his first lick at Sören's clit. Sören howled at the shock of pleasure and dug his nails in Anthony's shoulders. Anthony laughed softly. "Daddy wants to spoil his good boy," Anthony whispered, then took another lick. And another. His tongue rubbed at Sören's clit, teasing and exciting it, and just before Sören could climax that way, Anthony pulled back, lovingly stroked Sören's clit with his index finger, and said, "That's some nice bottom growth you've got there. I bet it likes to be sucked like a cock." With that, his lips clamped down on Sören's clit and he sucked hard, rolling it in his mouth up and down, back and forth, like a piece of hard candy. Sören went deeper and deeper into sensation, almost sobbing as the pleasure intensified, needing to come but never wanting him to stop. He heard himself swearing in Icelandic and calling out, "Daddy, Pabbi, Daddy..."

"Mmmmmmmmm." Anthony stopped sucking to lick some more, slowly, maddeningly, lusciously. "My good, good boy." He took another slow lick, and another.

"Daddy. Daddy, please Daddy, please..."

"Please what, baby?"

Sören whined. "Please make me come, Daddy..."

With heat in his eyes, Anthony took Sören's clit back in his mouth, suctioning away, mashing his face against Sören's mound and making filthy slurping noises. Sören couldn't make words anymore, only animal noises, panting like he was in heat, the pleasure building and building until it was all that existed, and at last he shattered, crying out, the contractions pulsing deep, bliss radiating through his entire body. Sören wept with the intensity of his release and feeling overcome by love and joy, his soul singing at the gift Anthony had just given him.

Anthony came up to kiss him - they kissed open-mouthed, tongues licking playfully, and Sören moaned at the taste of his juices on Anthony's tongue. "You taste so good, baby," Anthony said.

Sören giggled at the feel of Anthony's hard cock grinding against his thigh. "I want to taste you too, Daddy."

"Mmmmm, go for it, baby."

As much as Sören wanted to spoil Anthony's body, exploring every inch with his tongue, Anthony's cock was flushed a deep pink and slick with precum - as Sören looked down, a bead of precum slid down the shaft enticingly. Sören had a feeling Anthony's balls were starting to ache. So he compromised with himself and licked a trail down Anthony's chest and stomach, making Anthony groan, and when Sören was at Anthony's cock, his tongue swiped over the head then down the shaft, and Anthony made a feral noise through clenched teeth.

Sören took a few more licks up and down the shaft and over the head, and at last he began to try to wrap his mouth around Anthony's cock. Though he'd sucked a toy fantasizing about sucking off Anthony, and had watched enough gay porn to learn how to give a blowjob by watching, handling the real thing - especially one so thick - was another story. Sören crammed as much as he could in his mouth and gagged a little, had to take it back out, lick some more, and try again. When he hit his gag reflex again, Anthony chuckled, pulled Sören off his cock and traced Sören's lips with his thumb and said, "Don't try to get it all in. If you suck on the head and the first couple inches, your mouth will cooperate more, and you can use your hand for the bottom part."

"OK, Daddy."

"That's my good boy." Anthony touched Sören's face and smiled, his crow's feet crinkling in the way Sören loved.

Sören did as he was instructed, focusing on the head and the upper shaft. It still felt like his mouth was being stretched, but not so bad, and after he let it slide back and forth in his mouth for a bit he began to work his cheeks to suction it more, rewarded by Anthony's deep groans of pleasure. Sören kept one hand gently caressing Anthony's shaft, and the other lightly rubbing Anthony's balls, making Anthony moan and sigh. When he felt Anthony's balls tighten the hand wrapped around Anthony's shaft gripped more firmly, and he worked his tongue on the head as he kept sucking. Anthony grabbed Sören's curls and rolled his hips, slowly fucking Sören's mouth. "That's it, baby. That's a good boy. Such a good boy for Daddy..."

"Mmmmmm..." Sören loved that praise, and the sight of Anthony losing it was getting him worked up again. It was tempting to touch himself, but Sören made himself keep playing with Anthony's cock and balls, sucking Anthony's cock and rubbing his tongue. Sören began grinding against the sheets, going out of his mind with lust.

Suddenly Anthony's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, and Sören worried he was doing something wrong, but Anthony yanked harder on his hair, rocked his hips faster, and warned him, "Gonna come..."

"Mmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmmm." Sören wanted it, craved it like a drug.

Anthony threw his head back and let out a shuddery sigh as he spilled in Sören's mouth. It was hot and lightly salty-sweet... and then there was a lot of it, flooding his mouth, seeping out the corners of his mouth and down his chin, almost choking. Sören gulped it down and their eyes met and the smile Anthony gave him melted his heart. Sören licked his lips, savoring the lingering notes of his lover's cream, and felt a surge of giddy delight, pleased he'd succeeded at getting Anthony off... and feeling even closer to him. Anthony held out his arms and Sören rose up into his embrace and Anthony squeezed him tight, the two of them laughing, rocking together.

"You did great," Anthony said. "Especially for your first time."

"And you were amazing for your first time at that. You've seriously never eaten pussy before?"

Anthony shook his head. "No, but I did research, watching gay FTM porn and thinking about you." They kissed. "I don't like girls, but I definitely like boypussy. Or what are the Gen Z kids calling it now... bussy?"

Sören cracked up laughing so hard his sides hurt and he snorted, which made Anthony also tear up laughing. "You know how I said I don't care what you call it? Don't call it bussy," Sören snarked. "Boypussy is fine though."

"Duly noted." Anthony kissed the tip of Sören's nose. "So which is worse, bussy or calling it George?"

Sören scream-laughed into Anthony's chest. Then he said, "You know, it says a lot that I'm still horny even with you being such a fucking dork."

"Oh, are you now." Anthony's fingers slipped between Sören's legs and he gave a low whistle when he felt how wet Sören was. "Damn, you're even more soaked than before."

Anthony's fingers found a rhythm on Sören's hard clit as he kissed and licked Sören's sensitive neck and shoulder, driving Sören wild with sensation. When Sören began to work his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's fingers, Anthony rubbed faster, making deliciously lewd wet sloppy sounds, and their tongues played together in a long open-mouthed kiss. When Sören got close, he whimpered and Anthony kissed him deeply, his hand pressing firmly on Sören's mound as he rubbed in frenzied circles. Sören cried out into the kiss as he climaxed again and Anthony groaned at the feeling of Sören contracting and gushing on his hand.

"Good boy." Anthony rained kisses over Sören's face. "Good boy. Such a good boy."

Anthony brought his cum-coated fingers to Sören's lips and Sören licked up his own cream, then their tongues rubbed together again, sharing it between them. "Thank you, Daddy," Sören said, snuggling closer, feeling floaty and weightless.

"I love you, baby boy."

"Mmmm, I love you, Daddy."

Feeling perfect cozy contentment, Sören rested on Anthony's chest, their legs entwined. The deep relaxation from two powerful orgasms - so blissful, so peaceful, so safe - and the sound of purring cats and Anthony's heartbeat quickly lulled him to sleep.

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