Moon in Aquarius
©MCVT2017 MCVT2071March 30, 2019
Was it a subtle planetary pulls or simply the season?
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100% Fiction: Adult content, Mt, MMt, inc, rom, slow. =============================================================================
Of all damn birthday gifts, my sister sent me an astrological reading for the next year with a guy named Emil, "Remember to ask about your love life. Clock's a-ticking little brother."
Always pushing me to get married - never heard any of that talk when I moved back to take care of Mom and Dad in their last years. Now I owned the family home, occasionally renting out a room to a college student and continued with my loan consultancy. I enjoy my work, and family responsibilities happened.
Online, I requested a Saturday appointment with a photo of my birth certificate for my reading. The next day, I got a confirmation and an address -- west end walkup. Attached was a brief explanation: Stars don't compel but impel... I guess that covered any liability issues.
Hoping I wouldn't meet a half-baked, new-age guy burning sandalwood incense and talking about my spirit needing a mystical cleansing, I knocked. Footsteps, then, "Ferris?"
"Yep." Inside, the afternoon sun reflected off the glossy wood floor, tall windows stood open, sounds of the traffic filtered in. He motioned me to a sofa in the sparsely-furnished one-bedroom flat.
"You've got interesting alignments -- a lot like my natal chart." Young man, maybe thirty smiled as his eyes made crescents, deeply outlined by thick, black eyelashes. Smooth, light caramel colored cheeks jumped as he showed a wide smile. "Very similar."
"Yeah?" He began by pointing at a page of numbers and cryptic figures, telling me in general terms about my childhood. Could have talked to my sis, but my childhood was uneventful, like most of my life.
"Any specific questions?" In a smooth motion his hand went to a beautiful mosaic box decorated with tiny pieces of colored glass in the shape of a bird. He opened it, "Smoke?"
"Uh -- no." I thought he meant cigarettes. "But go ahead." Didn't want to be there all day and I was. We wound up with the munchies, ordering out before he began my forecast for the coming year. The sun was setting when I found out that my being single wasn't so odd; not everyone realizes they're not marriage material until the aftermath. My long-term relationship was with my parents; different but still a long-term commitment I'd kept with respect and love.
"If you're happy the way you are, be happy." This turned out to be a reassuring session or a fine sales pitch for another reading. He asked about my work, I told him briefly about my consultancy and my website. Told him his website was too basic to attract interest. I worked my own site and was something of an expert.
We sat at the cluttered computer desk after eating and I worked on his website when we heard keys in the door. A short figure entered in the dim room. "Goin' out tonight, Dad?"
"No. Finals next week." Emil offered the boy the almost-empty pizza box. "My son, Terry. He's going through a phase -- just ignore it." The kid took the box and disappeared into the bedroom dragging a heavy knapsack. Cute kid, or teen, couldn't tell. Looked like his dad but with much longer hair and baggy clothes, the current style. We called it a night early. I was getting sleepy.
When I got home, I wasn't completely convinced about the validity of Astrology, but a thought kept nagging me -- would I ever be married? Was there someone looking for me? I'd settle for companionship. Should I get a dog or sign up for dance classes? I emailed Emil and asked if he'd seen anyone in my future.
Later he said he'd run the numbers and asked if I could come on Saturday afternoon. He added something peculiar, "I did see something, not sure... Give me a few days to work on it." We worked out a barter arrangement -- I'd update his site for this additional reading.
The door stood slightly ajar, and I went in to find Emil cooking. "Have a seat. I messaged another astrologer to make sure about what I found -- waiting for an answer." He heaped rice and some kind of spicy, red meat and vegetables in three bowls, "Terry, dinner's on."
The boy came to the table, and we ate whatever that was -- absolutely delicious with spices over the fragrant, freshly-cooked rice. "Does your dad give you readings?"
"Daily forecast before I leave for school. He treats me like a baby -- like I can't think for myself." The boy glanced at his dad, then me.
"My dad was a worrier, too. But I knew he loved me." I said.
The computer pinged with emails. Emil got up and went to the computer while Terry and I finished and cleaned the kitchen. Emil printed out several messages and brought my folder to the coffee table while Terry went online to play games.
"This lady, Cerise, she's an expert with relationship matters, she says that there may be someone for you. They'll come from the shadows. She advises keeping your mind and your heart open to new beginnings, unusual liaisons." He showed me the message, picked up the folder and reviewed my forecast. "I'm baffled -- there's a trine -- but I'm not sure what it means, so I'll give you the same advice -- keep yourself open." He winked, "Maybe a ring in your future."
That was all he said. We lit a blunt and leaned back for a while. Noticing the boy playing one of my favorite games, I spun him around in the chair, "You play Greek Voyager?" That was the newest game out.
He glanced at his dad, "Yeah, why?"
"I can beat you down the block and back up the other side." I put a mean look on my face but couldn't hold it -- I chuckled. The rest of the evening, Terry and I played on the computer, equal opponents most of the time while Dad studied at the kitchen table.
At midnight I stood, "Got to get home, bud. Give me a call if you want to play again."
Saturdays got to be a habit through the semester. The three of us shared dinner, our ups and downs -- regular stuff. Some Saturdays we walked to the hamburger joint or the Chinese carry-out window. Terry wasn't sullen at all, but a good opponent -- only a few cuss words. Bright boy, full of energy despite living on the edge of poverty with a single parent. Dad had a Saturday babysitter now, and we arranged our schedules for him to get a booth at the markets and fairs where he'd set two chairs and a card table earning a few bucks for a quick reading. That grew into video-phone forecasts from his computer. Emil was working on his masters in Anthropology and worked on campus during the week. Saturday swap-meets, and steady clientele wanting a reading online helped their household in a big way while Terry and I were becoming skilled Greek Voyagers.
Funniest thing about the kid -- there was a monstrous beast that would rise out of the waters we had to cross in the game. Ferocious animal-like animated giant that growled and sputtered and swiped at our ships -- every time Terry encountered the monster, he had to tug at his pants. My peripheral vision caught his hand rubbing and pulling at his pants while his eyes stayed on the screen, right hand on the control.
"Did the monster stir up the electric eel in your briefs?" I whispered.
He continued playing, "Feels like it." Breathlessly. We got a good laugh out of it and started using the phrase "electric eel" when Terry became erect without notice. Never had a private joke with anyone before and at his age, we used the phrase often.
Spring break came and they left for three days camping at the lake. Was hoping they would invite me, but they didn't. When they returned, I expected to hear about bonfires and animals but they were both silently serious -- shooting each other disgruntled glances often.
I emailed Emil. and asked if they were alright -- maybe we could go bowling or play miniature golf the next Saturday, "How about the arcade?" These guys were my friends - I wanted to see them happy and joking around again. Within the hour, I got a phone call. Emil said that while they were camping, Terry had undergone a preparatory ritual and was still miffed. "He'll get over it."
Never having asked about their religious orientation, I accepted that and off-handedly offered myself if his son needed a stand-in for a grandfather or uncle, I'd be glad to help. Some big ritual was coming up next. I could endure a few hours in a suit for my favorite gamer.
The semester was almost over -- I was going to ask Emil if I could take Terry to the community pool with me, get him a pass and let him loose in the complex. They had all kinds of sports and games for the kids during the summer. As June neared, I brought over barbequed chicken I'd grilled, potato salad and lots of vegetables from my garden. We feasted that night in their dim apartment, I asked about getting Terry a pass to the center. As Terry poured the sodas, Emil said they were planning to visit Aruba on June twenty-third, "If you're still up for helping in the ritual -- I'd appreciate it. I want to film it."
"Sure, as long as it doesn't involve hanging men by their pecs, like in that movie. I can't sing, so don't ask me to do that either."
"Nothing like that. Terry's coming of age and he's ready for initiation into his role as a man. When we come back, he's going to help his mother in the boutique -- he'll be working in the public and -- well, he's growing up so fast. We need to get this done."
"Dad, I don't want to." Terry stood up and went to the bedroom.
"Why Aruba? Galveston's nice -- how about Mustang Island or Key West?" I was thinking of the costs.
"Latitude, longitude, it's either Costa Rica or Aruba. Aruba's closer to the right location."
`Kind of expensive." I added softly.
"His mother's helping out -- she's in full support."
Emil explained that he was a young father -- at fifteen. Taking the current situation in hand, he'd devised rituals with his son to develop his leadership and strengthen him against weakness or anything that would distract him from his goals -- "He has to learn leadership in his own life. Got to get him on track and keep him there -- he's got greater things ahead of him. His chart is filled with potential problems. Scorpio with Taurus ascendant, prone to proclivities..." This was somewhat surprising, but I figured he was an Anthropologist and knew a lot more about these things that I ever could. Emil was determined his son wouldn't go down his path, instead the boy would choose a proud path to walk. Emil was doing what he could.
"What's going to happen at this ritual?"
"He has readings, and questions to answer, then a brief ceremony. He's a sensitive boy, I want to make a lasting impression on him about respect for himself and others so there's an anointing and herbs. More importantly, he must learn to speak out and speak up before he can assume his role as a man. He has to prove himself to me first."
"No blood, right? I get weak."
"Wear your sandals, there may be glass on the beach." He smiled.
We went through the security checks at the airport quickly, not carrying much but a few changes of shorts, sun tan oil and tee shirts. Long flight, I fell asleep while Emil and Terry played on their phones. Actually, I was looking forward to being on the beach, seafood lunches, maybe a little rum.
We got off the plane at Queen Beatrix International to the smell of the sea and I suddenly felt too pale. The minority mind-set automatically adjusted my brain, but the dark faces smiled and were helpful, proud of themselves, their work, their nation. What else could I do? I joined with them in their pride and enjoyment of life. They spoke clipped English, and it made for confusing moments, for the most part, they knew what this untraveled man needed. From there, we took a taxi to the end of the strip of fancy resorts. Our place was small, older, with individual bungalows that opened to the beach -- beautiful, quiet and the sound of the waves was soft in the background. We were tired so I ordered several sandwiches and soft drinks. We ate, and with sodas in hand, we walked the sandy path under a bright moon.
I checked to see that the other cabins were dark, no one watching as Emil stripped his clothes off and nestled his drink alongside his sandals. Looked like we were alone, so I joined him. Terry watched us yet came later when we were in the surf. Feeling naked in the warm water pulling my body was calming, then swimming further out and back. Freedom felt wonderful. This is the kind of mystical cleansing my spirit needed. I felt someone grab a handful of hair on my butt and yank. Terry surfaced several feet away grinning. I tried to catch the little porpoise, but he evaded my every move.
Quietly, we glided and moved about in the warm water until I heard Emil call Terry to him, "Tomorrow night -- 1:53 in the morning, right here. You'll become a man -- all the planets in the right place to guide you."
Terry grabbed Emil's neck and whispered to his father.
"No. You'll leave here a man like me and Ferris and you'll be proud of your courage."
"Please?" Terry whined.
"Are you still such a child?" That seemed rather harsh, but he held his boy against him and kissed him. I left them in the water, went back to shore and donned my shorts and sandals only. The roll-away bed stood by the door -- I put it near the patio, showered then fell asleep quickly.
The sun came up too early but I was out in the surf immediately. Came back to find Terry and Emil spooning closely, snoring softly. Such closeness I'd never felt and a spark of sadness hit my heart. I'd known my dad more closely than most men, though completely without the affection these two shared. Showering those thoughts away, I felt ready for my day as I made coffee and walked down to the street and bought pastries from a vendor with a bright magenta and orange cart, then found oranges and papaya. Music rang through the streets -- everyone along the way tuned to the same station. With a new energy in my steps, and a big smile, I found my way back to the bungalow.
When I got back with breakfast, Terry was coming out of the shower. He didn't look happy so I fed him some information with the pastries. "I'm not sure what you're going to have to do tonight, but your dad wants to hear you speak up, speak out. That's a sign of courage to him. Whatever you do, speak up. Okay?"
The kid cocked his head, "Yeah? Did he say anything else?
"He said you wouldn't be hurt but you had to learn to control yourself and stay on task -- he wants you to focus on what you're doing. I'd suggest you control your electric eel. That's going to be hard at your age." Seeing how difficult the dynamics of his situation was, "If you get erect, tell your dad that's a hormonal surge -- sign of good health." This whole affair was about the boy not creating a child too early like his father had and I wasn't sure that would help.
We finished eating and thinking quietly till Emil came out and told us he was going into town, he'd be back later. Terry and I were going to walk the beach and around the town nearby.
With handfuls of shells and plenty of photos of the fishing boats, Terry and I enjoyed sweet frozen fruit pulp and big, thick fish sandwiches in rolls. Can't say I like plantain chips, but Terry did. We went back to shower and nap during the heat of the day. Incredibly tranquil, I felt more relaxed than I had in years and decided I needed to take vacations. People were so friendly and helpful, smiling came easily -- still I had a knot in my chest about this rite of passage I'd wrangled myself into. Terry was a tender young man... This ritual was better than my indoctrination - getting drunk before a trip to a bordello where I puked and couldn't get it up for crying and retching.
Emil came in later, puttering around in the kitchenette before he napped. Later that evening, he told us that it was time to start the ritual, and we sat on the deck where the breezes were cool. Together, on camera, we all three read through several stories about mythological gods and warriors who were brave and courageous while staying compassionate, reasoning men. Each story had a clear message. We sipped tea that Emil had made, heavy with honey and herbs.
After several glasses of the tea, I was mellow - Terry's pupils were dilated wide. Drugged, but we were functional and became very involved with where this ritual was leading. Emil had poetry that we read aloud. It talked about balancing the elements that life offered -- finding beauty in the most dreadful; creating love amidst hard feelings, strength during weakness. Asking for help was not weakness, but a step toward power -- power over what brought the weakness.
Don't remember the sunset, yet I remember Emil saying that thoughts often came from your body's needs -- hunger, thirst, exhaustion ... Each must be examined, especially if they involved another person. Delicately and with clarity, Emil handed complete control of Terry's thoughts, actions and consequences to his boy. "Own them all and know that you're responsible for where your actions eventually go. You must think first, especially if you will impact other's lives. Own your needs and your consequences fully."
In the flicker of a candle, Emil asked Terry to remove his clothes for an anointing, and he re-aimed the camera at Terry's slender young body and poured oil on the boy's head and shoulders. In the shadows, Terry covered his groin with his hands.
"Are you ashamed of what I gave you? Are you humiliated thinking you're the only human with genitals?" Emil's voice was on the edge of anger.
Feeling so bad for the boy, I stood and undressed quietly, making a point of letting Terry see my hands and arms relaxed at my sides. Slowly reaching over, I brought Terry forward into the candle light alongside me and smiled. "Yes." He relaxed then stood up straight.
Emil's big hands rubbed the oil along the smooth skin, under his arms, shoulder blades. I went to help, watching Terry's face as I took his calf in my hand to rub the oil onto his feet, calves and thighs. My hand went between his legs as his father's hands rubbed his narrow chest to a CD of slow drum beats and eerie lute music. The boy sighed several times as his penis engorged, short but full. I grabbed the bottle of oil infused with herbs and filled my palm, then watched his scrotum relax as it glistened in the dim light. Three short, dark hairs were his only embellishment. Couldn't help but notice a small, delicate foreskin as it drew tightly over his dark, dusty glans.
More tea and more responsive readings about courage, fortitude and keeping goals clear. Terry listened intently. He asked to be anointed again. "That feels good."
"No." His father gave him an odd medallion, small but shiny, to wear around his neck. "This will help you control your needs so your mind will proceed ahead of your actions."
We ate fruit and drank more tea while Emil got his camera attached to his forehead appearing something of a miner. "It's one-thirty now." We left for the beach naked. Terry dawdled behind us.
Chest deep in a calm ocean, Emil told me to hold Terry, facing away from me, as he lined up his camera so moonlight shone brightly on our faces. Terry's body was relaxed; I held his still slippery-skin against me awaiting instruction.
"Look at me." Emil ordered, the green light of the camera glowed above his forehead. We both looked at him. "Are you still a scared child or are you ready to own yourself and the world you create around you?"
Terry took each of my hands and hoisted himself up in the warm water. A thigh in each hand, his knees widely splayed in front of me. Emil neared, "Look at the moon." He checked his watch and his hand came between the boy's legs. I could feel the back of Emil's fingers on my rod as he searched for the boy's hole -- this became awkward. Wanted to tuck my erection behind the boy, but I couldn't let go of his legs -- I sighed and kept holding him.
Hearing a gasp, then a grunt, I leaned to Terry's ear, "Courage..." I whispered as I felt Emil begin to pull and push his finger in and out the boy's hole.
The boy's body tensed and he tried to pull away from his father, "No! No! Dad, please!"
The motion stopped, then began again with another gasp; must be using two or three fingers in the boy now. "Look at me, son." Emil's left hand went to the boy's groin, engaged in some activity that caused the boy to tense repeatedly, but Terry said nothing. Finally, Terry gave out a long, low sound like he might cry. My rigid penis throbbed, full to bursting with my captured blood.
The small motions ceased for a moment. "You've done well." Emil said softly, "Now to find the ease in pain. Look at the moon." Several fingers slid inside the boy again; their gaze locked on each other.
Emil smiled and told him how much he loved him, and that he would until he died. Moonlight reflected off the water on to his face, lighting it softly as his fingers found the sensitive places inside the boy's rectum. Soon, Terry's hips were moving -- young body pleading for more, then a sudden, deep breath as the boy flinched and moaned in orgasm. The boy's legs slipped out of my hands and downward as he went to kiss his father deeply. My pent-up spunk jumped out, immediately washed away by the tides after several quick strokes.
We walked back to the beach and into our cabana on shaky legs, all falling asleep on the big bed, exhausted. Crawling out of bed first that next morning, I went outside with my cup of coffee surprised I wasn't tired. I felt lighter, with a tickle of excitement, like something good was coming and looked up to a cloudless, smooth sky. Considering all that had happened the night before, I made a point to remember to treat Terry like a young man, no longer a teen, but a man with bigger things on his mind than video games. I'd try to encourage him to speak up and speak out -- his father's measure of manliness and to think things through before he made a decision. Then I realized, that we spoke about abstracts -- concepts that fathers seldom speak of -- the foundation of our humanity; the quality of our characters. Their life-long conversations were open now, they could speak of anything freely.
Over the sound of calypso music, I heard them laughing as they showered, smiles wide as they came to sit by me with their coffee. We dressed quickly and left for the open-air market. The heat of the day almost caught us, but we made it back to the bungalow and sat in the cool shade. Terry slept as Emil and I watched the video of the ritual. Emil had put a lot of thought into the readings and his explanations. Then, his beautiful son with the full moon in his eyes as his father penetrated him, whispering his love as the waters swirled around us.
"You need to make a ritual for me." I smiled at Emil. "That was incredible."
"I think we're on the right track now. He did well."
"What was that medallion you gave him?"
"Cuitlahuac, an ancient, and clever warrior. Something to hold on to when he gets shaky."
After watching the waves for a while, "Ferris, you don't need a ritual, you've shown courage and perseverance most of your life -- in a quiet way you've been more thoughtful and responsible than most. You need a celebration."
"Maybe I do."
"How would you like to celebrate? Dinner with wine? Want to go downtown tonight and look around? I hear there's a disco with dancers on pedestals and a live band."
"I'd want last night again. Incredibly arousing and intense -- sensual and pure."
A long silence, then, "Are you asking for sex?" Emil asked.
"Well..." I had to look away, I wasn't sure what I was asking for. Another long silence, "I want to feel loved. The kind of love with intimacy."
"Hard to come by. I was fortunate with Terry, but I've had to work on it every moment I'm with him, the world probably wouldn't understand. He's the only son I'll have, we have to be close."
Melancholia filled me like a dull, gray ache fog. Emil must have known it and offered me a bowl -- I refused it. Seabirds glided in front of the western sky as it became a fiery orange in the sunset. Terry woke and ate all the fruit and pastries. As I watched him, I smiled. He was a brave kid, he'd be a fine man with Emil beside him.
The silence was uncomfortable. "Moonlight swim?" I asked.
We left without towels, straight to the beach undressing along the way and straight into the waves. Yes, it felt just as wonderful as the first time - we swam parallel to the shore, back and forth until we tired. Terry swam to me, wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a kiss, "Thanks." Emil swam to shore and sat on the sand; small flame and then bright ember near his face.
Over the boy's shoulder, I saw Mars, then Venus in front of a million tiny points of light, "You're lucky to have Emil, very lucky." I felt legs wrap around my waist and his lips at my neck. His erection was hard pushing against my belly. My rod was hard and bumping against his butt. "I love you, and I'm not... Well, I'm only a family friend."
"Put it in." He whispered as the waves pulled at us gently.
Glancing at the beach, I saw Emil had stood and was walking toward the bungalow. Grasping my shaft, I put it at the boy's hole. He pressed against me and I shoved myself inside. The heat, the tight grasp of his muscle around me -- I quivered, knees shaking. I strode to deeper water allowing him the buoyancy to begin humping against me, his muscles occasionally clenching around me. "Hold me tight." I felt his arms around my neck as I grabbed his hips and pushed him downward feeling so close to the boy -- feeling his breath and his muscles as he flexed. After years so many sensations swirled around me, through me -- it had never been like this.
One hand on his head, holding his lips against mine, and the other hand felt along his cleft and the entry of my super-heated shaft. Intriguing feeling, he seemed to enjoy; I rubbed his tightly stretched muscle, around and around several times stopping to press between his legs, pushing on his prostate from the outside. Hundreds, maybe thousands of nerve endings firing between us in this act. My body couldn't wait much longer. With my hand pressing on his lower back holding him against me, I felt my heat rising and I shook as surge after surge of semen filled his warmth. Feeling so free and held so closely at the same time touched me profoundly; my eyes filled with tears.
Feeling my breaths jerk, the boy wiped my cheeks and smiled. We stayed embraced until my spent rod fell from his ass. "Put your fingers inside me." He whispered. At one time I would have thought that was a filthy, disgusting task; as I kissed his lips, I wiggled my finger inside him to find it slippery with my cum. I kept swirling and slipped a second finger inside him, opening a space between them for the ocean to enter. He pushed and created a very personal tide against my palm. My fingers found the place causing him to kiss me more deeply. I pulled my fingers out and slipped my thumb inside him and squeezed, rubbed. His tender balls tightened between my fingers as I pressed into his soft tissues over the small knots of glands until he shook in my arms. Cheek to cheek, he held me tightly, as tight as he could while his hot shaft emitted one small warm surge between us. Couldn't stop myself, I kissed him with my soul's most passionate kiss.
Rinsed and content, we went back to shore, gathering our clothes on the way. Before we got to the bungalow, "Your dad -- he's going to be upset."
"Why? I own my body and my thoughts -- I'll deal with the consequences."
Inside, Emil was asleep on the folding bed. Following Terry to the master bedroom, we lay on the sheets, still damp with salty water. In the moonlight, we lay embraced until Terry took me -- his young, excited body wanted more -- I'd never felt so willing. Yielding to his touch was the most simple, natural act -- like I was made for him. Made for this moment; made for this exchange. Gently, he took my reticent penis in his mouth. Saliva dripped down my balls and his finger pushed it to my ass. I clenched, this couldn't be happening, but it was. The kid didn't let up, he sucked and rubbed and licked my balls waiting for the moment I could relax in pleasurable distraction. Discomfort, at first when his finger entered me. More spit; second finger. Still felt strange, but not as uncomfortable. My hand went to his soft, damp hair. The smell of the ocean and our bodies filled my brain.
Stopping to remember how it must have felt to him the night before, I calmed myself and focused on courage. The painful knot of fear and guilt in my conscience left after a few moments -- I'd find a way to deal with my consequences. That was when he touched the glands inside me and began rubbing slowly and lightly. I gasped, and heard waves crashing inside my head -- that may have come from my heart beating so rapidly, rushing the blood through my body. Sounds, like whimpers came from my mouth as the only sensations I could feel were the boy's mouth on my shaft and the internal excitement he was causing inside me -- that excitement spread to every cell of my skin. I'd explode if this kept going - I could die I was so high and so immersed in the sensuality. Pressure built as I was submerged in this moment, and my grasp slipped. Free floating toward release, closer, closer...
The bed shook and I smelled the ocean mixed with the smell of Emil, warm, his face on my neck nuzzling. Then, with one quick, small movement, Emil nipped me. That triggered flashes inside my skin through my body, like electricity and that pressured feeling burst through -- searing hot rushes of cum moved quickly, one, another, another like they'd never end from that hidden place inside me without stop to a boy's throat, searching for his hidden places. A strong arm came over my chest and Emil was close while his son continued sucking and rubbing until I had to push him away. Tears wet my hair at my temples. Such whole, complete release.
Terry went to the bathroom to bring a washcloth. Consequences need wiping... Overcome with this sudden deep reaction and participation, I asked Emil if he'd seen anything in my chart that showed I was gay or something else...
"I can't tell, it has a lot to do with you and what you feel and want. Stars can't compel you to be gay. What do you feel like?"
What did I feel like? Hard to gather my thoughts... "Dazed and impelled."
Fin.
Aquarius Mcvt2017@gmail.com