When, on that eventual day, my penultimate breath leaves my body, I choose to remember this morning. Having remembered this lagoon of a bed with it's shoals of silk and Egyptian cotton sheets, its pristine banks of down pillows, its sustaining, dependable, caressing current of love flowing around and embracing those who floated there, my final breath will be spent in that happiest of occupations, saying, "I love you Joe!"
I woke before my love did. I'm glad I did. It gave me an opportunity to reflect upon all that happened the night before. Unwilling to actually leave this placid lagoon and with a slight pang of sadness at de-spooning from Joe, I moved up onto the bank of pillows. I sat there, naked with my arms hugging my knees and my cheek resting on the platform thus created. I giggled silently as I thought I must look very like an aging Puck seated on a mossy fairy bank. Naked. Magical. Glee-filled.
From my bastion of solitude, I observed the dark haired creature the Lagoon Gods were animating before my eyes. They had obviously constructed him out of the finest tea- stained alabaster and the most perfect ebony available in nature. Parts of him, as he slept, those parts of him that were the evidentiary remainder and product of our lovemaking, those parts, seemed to have been fashioned out of atoms-thick sheets of mother-of-pearl. The Gods used them, it seemed to my eyes, as ornaments to decorate Joe as he lay there.
This lagoon beast who was being transmogrified into my human partner as I watched through my passion induced altered state, was wildly and dangerously handsome. If they woke him at this stage of his development, he would be rapacious and uncontrollable. His cock constantly producing salty sweet cock honey to herald his rut like a bull elephant in must. His nostrils flared like a beast of burden's to fuel the primal thrusting and banging of his loins as he fulfilled his destiny to mate and be unquenchable in his matings. His eyes would have been a frigid amalgam of diamond and obsidian, lacking any subtlety. Their purpose not to aid in sight, but to draw his conquests into his lustful grasp.
Now the Gods indulged in another whim and by their causing the sun to move a bit higher in the sky, the angle of light was changed causing my eyes to perceive Joe as completely human. His metamorphosis was complete. The beast, however, was not that easily subdued. Joe moved his cocked left leg just a little which must have freed his dick. It now lay upon his left thigh. Under the sheet, it appeared to me as another shoal or a ripple upon the surface of the lagoon. As my love's sleep state became lighter, bringing him closer to being sentient, he cock began to fill and push that sheeted shoal higher than the surrounding lagoon's surface. It rose to it's full glory becoming like a volcanic promontory. Magma now darkened the top of the crater as a bead of cock honey sought the surface and found release. I looked closer and I swear to you that even under the sheet, I could detect Joe's dick throbbing with each beat of his heart.
My man-beast opened one eye slightly which caused his face to scrunch up in a comical attitude, he looked over at me seated on my fairy bank and broke my reverie by saying, "Good morning Pete. Is this the way you'll wake me every morning, by staring me awake?"
"Would you mind if I did?"
"No, babe. How could I mind that look in your eyes? I like how happy you look. Plus the fringe benefit. . ."
Puzzled, I asked, "What fringe benefit?"
A languid ripple started to spread a lewd grin over Joe's face as his eyelids lowered. "That would be the position you've assumed which gives me a front row center view of your perfect little dick and those sizzling balls and if you move just a little, I might be able to view my prize; your delectable asshole. You remember your asshole and what joy it brought you and me last night don't you?"
His incendiary words moved me back into reality by setting my ass on fire. The heat radiated from my lover's bull's eye outward to the root of my cock, causing it to spring into full bloom. My dick was suffused with it and sent that message of heat to my nipples making them contract, iris-like, until they were hard throbbing pinpoints of lust. From there the sizzle hit my mouth which began to salivate for the taste of him.
I was so shaken by what he had said and the way he said it that, I left my perch, caught the sheet with my foot and in one seamless movement removed it for Joe's body, swung my body in a half pirouette to the left and straddled his torso on my knees. I sat just ahead of his vertical cock which then pointed directly up my spine. My ass needed it's fire quenched and I was not going to take chances that the fire-bearer would escape.
I retrieved a rubber and holding it behind my back, I handily rolled it down his dick. A neat trick I had learned when I was doing research in preparation for directing the Ashmore Alternative Community Players in our inimitable musical production of `The Miracle Worker'. I could tell my ass maintained enough lubrication from a couple of hours ago that no more was required and I didn't intend to waste time with a re-do either.
"Ah, Pete? Didn't I want to go brush my teeth and take a leak before you ravage me. . . again?"
"No chance lover man. You're mine and I intend to claim you right now. . .again.", I mocked.
With that, I took Joe's hands for balance and stood until my bull's eye was right over my dark haired Knight's lance. I held Joe's gaze and began a slow decent.
As I lowered myself just enough for his cock to pierce my ring of muscle, I said, "I'd gladly let the rest of the world fade away if we could stay in this place, in this act for the rest of our lives. I'm where I want to be Joe. Where I've always dreamed of being and with the only person I've ever dreamed of." By the end of my words I had taken Joe completely into my body.
My words tripped a lever somewhere in Joe's psyche and he became a covetous, seething, writhing vessel for me to fill up with my love. As I used the muscles of my ass to milk and massage his cock inside me, he moved and cursed and groaned like a succubus upon whom the tables had been turned. Instead of his stealing my life force, I was feeding it to him, willing it into him, causing him to absorb all I had to give him. All any man can ever give another. He drank greedily and fully until `I' was sated and felt my nuts pull upward and fire volley after volley of sanctified love onto his face, his chest, his marble-hard clenched abs. In a fever to bring him to fruition and release, I now rode his cock at full gallop, making unintelligible sounds of lust and exertion, slapping my ass up and down his raging fiery pole. I squeezed with my ass muscles on every up stroke and every down stoke. I was, on every second pass, making circular movements with my hips, resolutely driving him closer and deeper toward that inevitable precipice over which he was sure to tumble.
Joe was in an agony of ecstatic feelings not just from his dick but from his soul and mind as he was reminded that this union, this mating was destined and forever. Glory sometimes verges on becoming too painful to be born. I had brought him finally to that point. He completely surrendered himself to my love and with a low baritone groan of no particular force, his intention flooded into me, scalding starlight in my center, the light of his love filling my body and exploding from my eyes into his, whose gaze I still possessed. He came in me filling the condom to such an extent that I felt his cum escaping from the end and sealing my now quiet ass to his cock.
After regaining the capacity for breath and sense, I released us upon a bright fresh unsuspecting world by smiling at him and saying, "Good morning my love, I could really murder some bacon and eggs! How `bout you?"
He started to laugh, rather weakly at first and then he gathered me in his arms and pulled me off his dick and rolled over and kissed me deeply with his tongue and said meekly, "Baby, I strongly suspect I love you more than Christmas!"
We spent a few more languid minutes in our nest and then nature pressed on bladders and made stomachs growl to be fed as we had fed our passion. Hunger is a prime motivator no matter how you look at it.
As Joe beheld the perfect Deco bathroom in the natural light streaming thru the skylights I'd had installed, he did a little jig, a happy dance, which rendered him risible as his hard ass jiggled and his cock and heat lengthened balls flopped about. My lustometer, of course, peaked in the danger zone.
As Joe pissed and scratched his ass absently (What a wonderfully male gesture that is. Have you ever noticed it? It's almost hard wired into us men. As we stand naked pissing, we automatically have to scratch. Somewhere. Anywhere. It reminds me of scratching a dog's belly in that perfect place that gets his hind leg going like a mindless, steam powered locomotive gear. He can't help it and doesn't even know he's doing it! Perhaps it helps us to relax. I suspect it's sexual. Men are often unaware of the connection between their ass and their dick but I can tell you, it's all of a piece. Oh my yes!) I turned on the water in the 20 headed Hydra we call the shower. It's magnificent! Four heads on each black and white diamond tiled wall and four on the matching floor which gives that expression new life and meaning. It should actually be four `in' the floor as they were slightly indented or inset so as to ease standing upon them. What it does for tired feet is too wonderful to rhapsodize about here. Having at least a modicum of decorum, I will only mention the spring recoiled douche line who's nozzle, sticking out of the wall like some slim robotic cock, and it's on/off mechanism, were located at a convenient level on the wall.
Joe looked round at all the glass and chrome, at the 20 headed Hydra and eloquently said, "Cheese and rice, man! What is this? The gay version of Versailles?"
I smirked happily and enjoyed my little architect enjoying his new digs.
"Escort me in there lover. I'm kinda scared to go in all by myself."
"So was I the first time, but it's just like heroin or taking it up the ass. Once you've tried it, your hooked!", I took a couple of beats and hoped I hadn't been caught in my gaucherie. I do slip on occasion and speak like a street hustler. Vivvy loves me for it.
Joe and I enjoyed the shower, I lent him some fresh clothes and we breakfasted on orange juice, melon, two kinds of toast with cherry preserves and sweet butter. To accompany we had basted eggs, bacon, ham, sausage and grilled tomato. Coffee, milk, and tea are always available, of course. Well . . . breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I've always believed that and fostered it in my guests. I'm always prepared for two things; a hearty breakfast and delicious and plentiful cocktails. I do watch lunch, dinner and between meal treats though.
Just as we were finishing breakfast, the door chime sounded.
I've always loved big, bongy, mellow door chimes. Five years ago on a trip to Switzerland, I found a chime maker who had started to incorporate digital technology into classic sounding door chimes. As he was about 25 years old and strangely attractive (he looked like a blond gypsy to my way of thinking right down to the gold earring. As the morning wore on into afternoon and then evening, I was to find that he had other rings in other places'. He taught me what Prince Albert must have taught Queen Victoria, to my great delight! I do have a very small penchant for a man with hardware). I ended up buying a system from him which allows me to have any one of 25 different melodies as my door chime. Each rich, deep and sonorous. This does reek havoc with some of the melodies I choose, most especially the two Dusty Springfield hits and the Patty Page chestnut, Old Cape Cod'. Perhaps a carillon would do those better justice. Currently I was featuring `Happy Trails to You' as I hoped it would convey a not so subtle message that I'd prefer not to be disturbed. This was as a distinct change from last week's choice, J. S. Bach's Toccata and Fuge in D Minor. Rather an ambitious tune for a door chime and slightly intimidating, I grant you, but so wonderful to hear.
Joe dropped his toast, sat bolt upright and looked at me with big round questioning eyes. I just gave him a toothy grin and said in a rather too high but, I hoped, nonchalant voice, "I'll get it."
I walked out of the kitchen, through the butler's pantry, across the dining room, opened the double doors to the library and opened the tromp loeil door of books into the vestibule. Approaching the main entrance, I looked at the small monitor in the wall and saw that it was Alvin the concierge in his bellhop costume. At least I assumed it was he. All I could see was his pillbox hat perched at a jaunty angle on his crew cut head and most of a white florist box tied in bright yellow satin ribbon. I opened the door and Alvin said, "Flowers fer ya Pete."
"Thanks Alvin, I realize it's Saturday morning and I'm sorry to disturb your cartoon time." I said as I handed him a crumpled up bill and received the flowers.
"No worries Pete," he went on, "I just put my cookies in the oven and they won't be ready for another five or so. Keep yer powder dry and thanks!"
He put the bill in his pocket without looking at it and returned to the waiting elevator. I thought I smelled a faint waft of vanilla with a note of spice. Knowing Alvin as I do, before the door ran shut I questioned, "Who are these flowers from?" I knew that not much can escape a man who reads post cards and delivery notes regardless of the addressee.
"Vivvy." As the door slide shut, he said simply as if to imply that no one else but Vivvy ever sent me flowers which, I had to admit, was true as of late, but I hated to be reminded of it. I made a mental note to either increase Alvin's Christmas gratuity for honesty or decrease it for his . . . well . . . honesty.
Rejoining the munching Joe, I said, "Look babe, posies!"
"Who from?"
I withdrew the card from the ribbon, opened it and read, "My darlings Pud and Joseph!"
Joe's thick movie star eyebrows shot up toward his hair line like two goosed caterpillars. His eyes took on a mischievous glint and he asked the one word question, "Pud?!"
"Yes, Pud." I said frostily. "I'll bring you up to speed later, much later."
"My darlings Pud and Joseph! Words can't express Frank's and my joy at your meeting each other. One can only assume that it's a match made in heaven? It seemed to the assembled that you two were blissed out. If you had been saints, you'd have been glowing! As we know you both, we know that saints don't even enter into the equation. Had we known that you would take to each other so, we'd have arranged an introduction very much sooner. We both - wish you both - a lifetime of happiness!
Come to cocktails at six with dinner to follow. There's been a development!
Love, love, love,
Lois and Viv
Looking directly at Joe, I intoned a heartfelt, "Oh shit."
Having opened the box and begun to sniff all the scent from the red roses, he said, "Whut, you don't like roses?"
"Sweetheart, I love roses but I love you more than anything. For that reason, we need to have a talk before cocktails tonight. I have something to tell you."