Made In Portugal Read online

  We’d ended up going back to the bedroom where he decided he would show me exactly what he’d wanted to do to me the day we filmed the Chocolate Salami recipe.

  “Don’t move.” He commanded as he pushed me against my bedroom door. I couldn’t not obey since I was in a desperate state of arousal, and would do anything if it meant he’d get his hands on me again.

  “When you looked at me that day I felt it everywhere,” he said, spelling out each syllable.

  “Your eyes looked like they could taste me from afar,” his hands held mine against the door as he nuzzled my neck and bit the lobe of my ear causing me to let out a frustrated groan.

  “Huh you were so fucking sexy Joel,” my words were strained, and I was desperate to move, to grind against him and find some relief, “I wanted to be that chocolate, I wanted to make you moan in the same way.”

  “Oh you do, baby.”

  “I like it when you call me that,” the moment I said it I felt heat rushing to my face, “no one has ever called me anything that implies that we’re intimate.” I wasn’t sure why I felt I had to share that but I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that my mouth and brain worked separately whenever I was around Joel.

  The time for words was over when Joel got down on his knees, undid the button on my jeans, and pulled them down in one go with my boxer shorts. Before I could even react, I felt his mouth on me, warm and wet, and determined to make this a very short-lived activity.

  I looked down and saw the sole focus of his attention was my rock hard, ready to combust cock. He stroked, kissed, licked and sucked with a determination I was quickly learning was a big part of who he was. I’d thrown so much at him, and he was still here, giving rather than taking.

  Joel looked up at me, and there was no judgment in his eyes, just pure, unabridged pleasure and something else I couldn’t tell but could feel, and it was good.

  I’m not sure what he saw in my own eyes when our gazes locked because he quickly withdrew his cock from his shorts and brought himself to climax, moaning my name.

  The shock of seeing him so tightly wound that he couldn’t wait to bring himself to orgasm was quickly replaced with my own need. The moment Joel’s mouth was back on me, all it took was a slight amount of pressure from his hand and him moaning around me, and I was gone. The familiar rush of pleasure traveled from my lower back down to my balls, and I cried Joel’s name as I released into his welcoming warm mouth.

  In my post-orgasmic bliss, my knees struggled to hold my body, so I let myself slide down to sit on the floor, my back still on the door. Joel straddled me and kissed me fiercely.

  “That was the hottest thing ever,” he said. I could not find a bone in my body that would disagree with that statement.

  We didn’t get on the road until lunchtime after another shower. Fortunately, the pancakes we had at breakfast were enough to fill us up so once we were ready, we locked up and left.

  We threw a coin to see who would do the driving for this leg of the journey, and I was ecstatic to come out the winner. I loved driving, but since I didn’t have a car, it was an activity I was rarely able to enjoy.

  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and barely a breeze, so we decided to keep the top of the car down. The roads were surprisingly clear. Our original plan had been to avoid the highway and take the country roads. It would have taken us an additional hour, but it would have also been a much nicer drive through all the towns.

  Since our morning activities delayed us, we took the highway instead so we could arrive in Évora in time to go to the two places our moms had talked about in their journal, the Chapel of Bones and the Roman Temple of Diana.

  Thirty minutes into our trip and we’d already left the urbanized areas of the West Coast and were now in beautiful countryside. The highway cut through the green landscape of agricultural fields, and I could see the occasional farm animal grazing in the distance.

  I glanced at Joel and saw him admiring the views. He looked relaxed and happy, and in his shorts, t-shirt and baseball cap combination he looked every bit the tourist.

  “What?” he asked when he realized I’d looked at him. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but I was sure they would be that shiny light blue they always were in the sunshine. I shook my head smiling but gave him no answer since I wasn’t sure we could have a conversation over the sound of the wind around us.

  The green pastures of the West gave way to the yellow undulating plains the Alentejo region was known for as we got closer to our destination. From the highway, all we could see was the occasional small village surrounded by fields of wheat, cork oak and olive trees. It was truly stunning, and I couldn’t wait to get off the highway.

  As soon as we found a parking space under the shade of a tree in Évora, and the car stopped moving, the coolness of the wind gave way to overwhelming heat.

  “Jesus, it’s hot!” Joel said getting out to help me get the roof of the car back in place.

  “Yeah, this part of the country is quite dry and a lot warmer than the rest. Did you see the fields of wheat on the way?”

  “Yeah, it was beautiful. It looked so peaceful. I loved all those little hills with the single tree on them.”

  “Maybe we’ll see some more on the way to the hotel later.”

  We each took a bottle of water from the cooler box we brought with us and went to find the Temple of Diana.

  “It looks like one of those Greek temples,” Joel said as we approached the small square where the Temple was situated. He was right, it did look like a Greek temple. I couldn’t remember much from what I learned at school, so we tried to look for an information board but didn’t see one.

  “I’ll look it up on my phone,” I said.

  “Look!”

  Joel was pointing towards the landscaped garden in front of the temple, but I couldn’t see what he was so excited about.

  “Stay here,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

  I took my phone out to get information about the temple and found that it was actually called the Roman Temple of Évora and that the association with Diana, the Roman Goddess of the Hunt stemmed from a legend made up by a priest in the 17th century.

  Before I could read any more, I had an ice-cream cone thrust in my face.

  “What--” I took it and looked at Joel. He was the picture of happiness as he licked his ice-cream. His wide smile and bright eyes reminded me of the Joel I knew as a child, and I was glad to see that side of him hadn’t changed as he grew up.

  The ice-cream was everything I didn’t know I needed at that point, a refreshing hit of sweetness that also brought back childhood memories of going out for ice-cream with my mom.

  Joel read the information I found as we walked towards the garden. There were some people around, probably a mix of visitors and locals. We found a free bench and sat down to read the journal entry of when our moms had come to Évora.

  I laughed when I looked at Joel and saw he had a bit of ice-cream on his face.

  “What’s funny?” he asked.

  “You have ice-cream on your face.”

  “Where?”

  “Erm, everywhere?” I said pointing to his whole face in a circular movement. He didn’t really, but it was fun to tease him.

  “Haha. Funny. Where is it?” he started licking around his mouth, and suddenly the joke was on me because I knew what he was capable of with that tongue.

  It wasn’t until Joel coughed to get my attention that I realized my eyes had zeroed in on his mouth and hadn't moved. I reluctantly looked up and saw he wasn’t entirely unaffected by the sudden shift in mood. His pupils were dilated, and I didn’t need to look down to know he was probably finding his shorts as uncomfortable as I was finding mine.

  “Fuck David, not here,” he said, his voice low.

  “Not my fault. Next time you decide to eat ice-cream with your whole face think about how you go about cleaning it up. Here,” I said giving him the journal, “I bookmarked the entry
we want to read again.”

  12 May 1981 - School trip to Évora

  Dear Journal,

  We went to Évora today.

  We visited the Temple of Diana. Diana kept saying it was named after her, but our teacher said it was actually called the Roman Temple of Évora. It looked really old like it was there before all the houses around it. We wondered what it would look like before it was destroyed.

  After the temple, we had lunch in the garden. It was really hot, so we had ice-cream after we ate our sandwiches.

  We also visited the Chapel of Bones. It was quite scary seeing all the skeletons. They were real people, not fake bones. Pedro tried spooking us with a spooky story about the skeletons coming out of the walls at night, but we’re not kids anymore. We don’t believe in that stuff.

  We almost forgot to say; we have two new neighbors. Mário and Vítor. Mário is in Teresa’s class, and Vítor is in our class. They seem nice, but we haven’t played with them yet. Vítor was on our visit to Évora, but he didn’t speak to anyone. We did ask if he wanted to get ice-cream with us, but he didn’t want to.

  Walking the cobbled streets of Évora with Joel was like seeing everything with a new pair of eyes. I was quite used to houses with whitewashed walls and burnt yellow frames around the doors and windows, or those houses covered in blue and white tiles.

  For Joel, this was all new. Having left Portugal as a child he’d never really noticed it before, but now as an adult, I could see his appreciation for the unique and utterly charming architecture.

  “Look at those arches,” he said pointing at the structure in front of the row of shops we passed on the way to the chapel, “it looks, well, I don’t know what it looks like. Everything has an old feel to it like it’s been here since forever but at the same time it still stands with the same strength and grace.”

  I couldn’t help staring at him in awe. He was describing an architectural feature that could also explain much of the Portuguese culture. When I applied the same thinking to my trade, I could relate to the passing of recipes from generation to generation without change.

  “Come on Mr. Teacher, let’s get to the chapel before it closes,” I said putting a hand on his back and pulling him in the direction of the Church of St. Francis.

  The small chapel was next to the entrance of the church, and above the door, there was a warning sign that read “We bones that here are, yours await.”

  “Creepy, right?” Joel said while I bought our entrance tickets.

  I grabbed a small information leaflet, and we walked in. The chapel was small. In fact, from the entrance, we could see all of it. Skulls lined the walls on all sides, including the columns that supported the roof.

  “Look,” I said pointing at the skeleton of what looked like a small child.

  “Wow, how old do you think the kid was?”

  “Don’t know. According to the leaflet, the bones come from other church cemeteries, and they’re all of the monks. Around 5000 of them.”

  “Jesus.”

  I laughed at that point, and we decided to leave the church when an older couple gave us looks that indicated they weren’t amused by our conversation.

  “Come on, let’s go find somewhere to have a cold drink and some food.”

  We ended up at Giraldo Square, again. It seemed as though all streets led here since we’d already passed it a few times in our walk around the center.

  The sun was lower down, so there was now some shade in the outdoor seating area of the restaurants around the square. As much as I liked getting some color on my skin, it was still very hot, and I’m sure Joel’s white skin would burn under the sun.

  We sat and were immediately greeted by a waiter.

  “Boa tarde. What can I get you?” He looked happy despite the sweat on his forehead indicating he’d rather be working inside in the cool air-conditioned restaurant.

  Joel asked for an iced tea, and I asked for an espresso and a bottle of cold water.

  “How can you drink a hot coffee in this heat, wouldn’t you rather have an iced coffee?”

  “I don’t know; I’m just used to drinking a small coffee in the afternoon, I guess.” I leafed through the menu with the traditional desserts and cakes.

  “Ooh, they have Sericaia.” I’d seen the traditional egg-based cake featured in a TV program and had wanted to try it for ages.

  “They have what?” Joel asked puzzled.

  “It’s a traditional cake from this area.”

  “Shall we see what they have for dinner and then if you like we can try that cake as dessert?” Joel suggested.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We ended up staying in the same spot for nearly two hours. We had a light dinner because we had both wanted to try the Sericaia. I enjoyed the cake so much I asked if I could meet the chef that makes their cakes since the menu stated they were home baked on site.

  No amount of charming Mrs. Fonseca, likely the grandma of the family-owned restaurant, made her give away her recipe.

  “The old lady was totally into you,” Joel teased on the way back to the car.

  I laughed, “she was a tough nut to crack.”

  “An uncrackable nut since you came out of there empty-handed.”

  “Not quite,” I said lifting bag with the two extra slices of Sericaia Mrs. Fonseca insisted we should take with us since she couldn’t share her recipe.

  The sun was now quite low in the sky. I was glad we had still been able to do quite a lot today despite leaving the apartment later than expected. Not that I minded, I would quite happily be late all the time if the reason for it was Joel and his sexy mouth.

  I was already eager to get to the hotel and get my hands on him. My thoughts were causing an uncomfortable situation in my shorts for the second time this afternoon, and I willed Joel to get us to the hotel quickly.

  We were now outside the town on small country roads. It was still light but not for long. I was adjusting myself in my seat while trying to think of something else other than Joel’s mouth when I felt the car slow down.

  “Fuck,” Joel said.

  “What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?”

  “I don’t know, the car isn’t working.”

  Joel managed to pull over the side of a dirt road patch before the car came to a complete halt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Joel

  I’d been thinking about getting naked with David in the hotel shower when I felt the car slowing down. My thoughts rapidly changed to trying to get the car to a safe place before it stopped altogether.

  I tried starting up the car again, but nothing happened.

  “Fuck, what do we do?” I asked

  “Do you have any paperwork for the car? A number we can ring?”

  “Both our phones are dead, remember?” We’d used our phones to browse the internet for information and to take photos. My phone died at some point in the afternoon, and David’s soon after.

  “Shit, how far are we from the hotel?” David asked.

  I looked at the navigation system, which fortunately still had some battery life.

  “Six miles. Can we walk six miles? We may even see a small village on the way and ask for help.” A little bit of panic was starting to rise in my belly. We were literally in the middle of nowhere, so it was unlikely we’d find many people driving past, and the sun would be setting very soon.

  “It’s too far. Look, grab your jacket and let's walk to that hill over there.” David pointed to a small hill about 200 yards away. Maybe we could get a view of what was around us and see where we could go for help.

  It didn’t take us long to walk up. Much like what we’d seen on the drive to Évora, this one also had a single tree at the top. We stopped when we reached the tree.

  “Wow, this place is incredible.” While the hill hadn’t seemed too high from where we’d come, it was clearly much higher up from the other side because I was looking at miles and miles of uninterrupted fields of wheat, broken into
various sections by olive trees. There was nothing around us; I could see the car and the road we’d been, but then it disappeared behind the tree line.

  “Let’s sit down,” David said taking my hand and leading me to the tree.

  “What? Why? What if someone comes and we don’t see them?”

  David kissed me softly and said, “trust me, sit here with me,” he laid down a blanket he brought from the car, and then sat with his back to the tree and pulled me down to sit between his legs, my back to his front.

  “Do you see the car?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” my breathing became a little uneven when David placed soft kisses on the back of my neck as he tightened his arms around me.

  “We’ll see if someone comes, which to be honest I’d be surprised--“

  “What?” I screeched, “what the fuck are we going to do here in the middle of nowhere?”

  David laughed but he then ran his hands through my hair, and I immediately relaxed under his touch.

  His voice was soft but confident as he tried to reassure me. “We’re going to watch the sunset from here and then we’re going to make ourselves comfortable in the car and try to get some sleep. I’m sure someone will be driving past here at some point so we can ask for help then.” I was only half listening to what he was saying. Suddenly I couldn’t care less where we were because his hands running through my hair were causing all sorts of shivers to run down my spine, all the way down to my cock.

  I turned my head and kissed David softly. His hands came down to my neck to keep me in place ever so gently, while his thumbs caressed my cheeks tenderly. We could have been kissing for minutes or hours; I wasn’t sure. Screw being rescued or spending the night in a comfortable hotel bed, every single part of me felt safe and content in David’s arms.

  David looked at me with his big brown eyes full of emotion, desire, and unspoken feelings. Despite how right this thing between David and me felt, it was also temporary, and part of me was screaming to be careful.

  I turned around and settled once again against David. I pulled his arms around me and laced our fingers together.