Right . . . nice little story, I guess. Posting it here on Nifty. Wrote it on a train. Had a strange dream. This isn't it completely. It ended with a plague of locusts befalling upon me. Don't think you want to read abou that rubbish. Anywat . . . check out more of my story. On Nifty, I've also put out Just Don't Think I'm Not. (Http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/high-school/just-dont-think-im-not) On my web- site you can find many more stories
Copyright 2002 by Gabriel Duncan. Check out my site, Lonely Ocean at Http://www27.brinkster.com/lonelyocean --------------------------
. . . of a dream gabriel duncan
I'm camping somewhere. I don't even know how I got here. Some big family gathering. I know we're all staying in tents. In the meeting place . . . meeting hall. It's dim. A small hole in the ceiling provides us with some light. The torches on the adobe walls provide little more. And there he is. Short. Five-six. Freckled face and green eyes with blue specks. We haven't spoken too much. This is a public place but neither of us cares as we step towards each other. He's wearing a pair of cargo khakis and a green tie-dyed t-shirt. His brown hair is shaved short, to the shape of his head. Alone with him, he seems so pure and so special. And his loneliness is now more visible in the light of this room. We step closer, looking into each other's eyes. Voices are gathering outside, somewhere, for something. If this is going to work, we would have to be quick. I didn't know what to expect as we locked in a powerful embrace of passion, lust and understanding. Whatever we had wanted to say to each other, all of it culminated in those few seconds. We pulled away from each other and I took a better look at the earring in his left ear.
I was surprised when he kissed me. I was elated when he kissed me again. This couldn't be a one time thing. Neither of us wanted it to be. But this was probably the only time we would ever see each other. We both had lives that would never cross paths again. I remembered that we had to hurry. We were both as ready as we ever would be.
"Have you ever been fucked?" I asked him.
Something told me that he had. That he and his brother had done it a few times before. I was convinced when he took lotion out of his back pack and greased the both of us up. Our breath had become quick and shallow. I knew this would hurt him. Even though his brother was two years older than I was; I knew I was larger. I watched as I pushed at his opening. It was so tight. And I could tell that he was straining to accommodate me. With a pained whimper, I finally opened his door.
"Ow," he said, "It hurts."
I lifted the boy off me by his hips. His body was so beautiful. I didn't want to stop touching it. I caressed him until the pain went away and I got on all fours. The boy was standing behind me as I lubed us up. And I wanted this more than he did. I wanted to give him something beautiful and pleasure and powerful. Better than his fucked up life's been so far. So I gave myself to him. All that I had left; all that was still sacred to me. I remember watching our shadows writhe on the walls as the time came.
"Hold me." He asked.
He curled into me and I held him close, feeling his warmth. The voices had faded away and we were completely alone now. Completely safe. And, just for a few minutes, we held on to each other. And, just for a few minutes, we felt complete. The void was filled. In two hours, we would have to part ways and complete our journeys home. But we didn't have to worry about that just then.
Short, I know. Send me an email at KillerPizzaMonkey@yahoo.com with feedack. All comments welcome. Intelligent flames won't be deleted (that's constructive criticism, holmes).