Hi, friends and readers:
Most selfies are pretty lame, so I rarely post them on this site, but once in a while I will come across a few I think are worthy of sharing, and I’ve posted two of them here this morning. Yeah, the guys are kinda skinny, but sometimes I like that in a guy.
My boyfriend and I ended up visiting our timeshare down the street last night for a soak in the hot tub. Afterward, we visited the beach, where we sat on a bench and listened to the waves lap the shore. A nice crescent moon hung over the Gulf and it was so pretty down there we hated to leave. I went to bed late, and that means I didn’t get up early enough to walk on the beach this morning. Oh, well ….
I’m finished with writing fresh material for my new novel, and very soon it’ll be lunchtime. Since today is Wednesday I will travel into the city to visit the YMCA this afternoon, for my usual workout and lap-swimming sessions. My boyfriend’s going to meet me there, in between his classes, so that’ll be nice.
We don’t have any concrete plans for this evening, which is fine with me.
Okay, here is the third installment from my story, The Mirror. Remember folks, the story comes with a caveat.The story contains graphic depictions of to sexual activity between two adult males. If this sort of thing offend you then you shouldn’t read The Mirror.
The Mirror, copyright Martin Delacroix 2014
Returning home, it turned out, was not difficult. We experimented, Thad and I, standing before his mirror. When we placed our palms against the glass, side-by-side—me first, and then Thad—I was back in my bungalow within minutes.
When Thad placed his hand on his mirror first, and then I followed suit with my mirror at home, Thad arrived at my place—zip-zip. He spent an hour walking around the house, marveling at things like the toilet (He called it the “necessary.”), the shower, refrigerator, computer, and television. He liked playing with wall switches; he kept turning ceiling lights on and off. Every time he did so he smiled, displaying his glacially-white teeth. His eyes would sparkle, and my belly would flutter with desire.
Slut that I was, I wondered, How would he react if I made a pass?
I loved the sound of his voice: a gentle baritone.
When I gave Thad a can of cola, he gushed over the soda’s fizzy sweetness while we sat on the sofa on my front porch. Our knees touched while we watched the sun descend behind a neighboring house. Beyond the screens, crickets chirped in the trees. A breeze rustled fronds of a Sabal palm. Sitting so close to Thad, I smelled his body odor: a scent like damp pine needles.
Thad looked at me with a puzzled expression. “How do you think it works? What allows us go back and forth?”
I shrugged. “I’m not much on science fiction, but the mirrors are portals, I guess.”
Thad looked at me and made a face.
How should I explain? I said, “They function as gates between your time and mine.”
“It’s like magic isn’t it?”
I nodded. Then I told Thad about Professor Cosmo Moon.
Thad rubbed his chin with a knuckle. “My granny on Daddy’s side owned our mirror. People said she was a witch. She told fortunes and spoke with the dead—those sorts of things.”
I asked Thad about his family.
“There’s just me and Mama, now. Daddy died from consumption, when I was six. My older brother, Paul, was killed in the war.”
“Between the North and South. Kansas is free, you know. Paul fought for the Union; he died at Pittsburg Landing.”
“How come you’re not in the Army?” I asked.
“They call it a ‘hardship exemption.’ I’m the family’s only surviving male.”
“If it were up to me, I’d go,” Thad said. “But Mama won’t hear of it.”
I looked at my watch. “Won’t she be missing you?”
He shook his head. “Mama’s in Topeka, visiting my aunt. She won’t return until Saturday. That’s three days from now.”
Go ahead, Kevin, ask.
“Would you like to stay the night?”
Thad turned his face to mine, and then our gazes met. He blinked a time or two. When he smiled, the sun’s last rays reflected in his teeth.
“Sure,” he said, “I’d like that.”
Thad watched television while I cooked dinner. He liked re-runs of situation comedies, Friends, in particular.
“Joey’s funny,” he said.
I sipped Riesling while preparing baked chicken, rice, and snow peas. We ate at my dining room table, and Thad’s lack of table manners charmed me. He held his fork in his left hand with the tines turned down. He cut meat and stuffed it into his mouth without shifting the fork to his right hand. His napkin remained upon the table, unused, and he slurped from his glass of cola.
When I offered him wine, he declined it. “I don’t drink alcohol,” he said.
He asked all sorts of questions: about automobiles (Several had passed while we sat on the porch.), airplanes (He’d seen one on my television.), and, of course, me. When he asked if I were married, I skirted the gay business. Nobody was out in 1863, were they? Back then, weren’t gay men castrated if they were caught together in flagrante delicto?
Thad was nineteen. Born May twenty-fifth, he was a fellow Gemini. He’d gone to school eight years. After that, he worked on his family’s farm, plowing and sowing the fields, caring for the animals, and making repairs. The family grew corn and wheat, raised pigs. They owned a dairy cow and a mule. He had no friends, really, as the nearest neighbors were two miles away, and they had no children Thad’s age.
When I asked about girls, the color rose in his cheeks. He lowered his gaze. Then he shook his head and didn’t say anything.
Thad’s hands intrigued me. His fingers were long, the knuckles large, his palms calloused. One fingernail was black and blue, and the back of one wrist bore a nasty cut, not fully healed.
“I sharpened a saw blade,” he explained, “and I was careless.”
After dinner, I took him to the bathroom. We washed the wound with soap and hot water. Then I applied antibacterial ointment and a bandage. My pulse accelerated when I touched Thad’s skin and his breath swept my face.
Thad pointed to the toilet. “I need to piss. Can I use it?”
I said, “Sure, go ahead.”
I turned to leave the room, but Thad seized my arm.
He said, “You’ll have to show me how.”
And I thought, Okay-y-y.
I steered him ’til he stood before the john. Then I flicked his crotch with a fingertip. “Open up.”
He worked at his buttons while my cock hardened. When he dug his fingers inside his overalls, I saw he wore no underpants. He produced his cock, an uncut snake with a cobalt vein tunneling down the topside of the shaft. When he peeled back his buff-colored foreskin, I smelled his cheese and—I swear—my mouth watered.
He squeezed himself a time or two, and then his stream emerged, golden and bubbling in the toilet water. When he’d finished, I showed him how to flush. Then, before he buttoned his overalls, I pointed to the shower.
“Would you like to bathe? The water’s nice and warm, and there’s soap and shampoo.”
He glanced at the shower and tub, his cock still in his hand. “What’s shampoo?” he asked.
“You wash your hair with it.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t had a bath in a week. It would be nice to get clean.”
Okay, Kevin, easy now. Take it slow.
I said, “Get undressed, and then I’ll show you how the shower works.”
Leaning against a wall, I watched him strip. His shoulders were broad, his limbs lanky, his belly flat. His chest was defined and smooth, his nipples as dark as chocolate. His pubic bush was fleecy and onyx, like the hair on his head. His buttocks were dimpled and compact, his balls plump low-hangers. He seemed utterly at ease with being naked in my presence, and he did not flinch when I brushed against him to turn the water handles.
I adjusted the temperature ’til it felt right. Then I flipped the shower lever.
Thad gasped. “It’s like it’s raining,” he said. A grin spread across his face while he watched the water flow. He stepped into the tub, got himself under the stream, and groaned. “It’s nice and warm,” he said.
I left the shower curtain open, reached for the soap. After grabbing a washcloth, I showed Thad how to work up lather. Then I brought the dripping cloth to his chest. I made a few scrubbing circles while I watched water stream off the tip of his cock.
“Like this,” I said.
Nodding, he took the cloth from me. He scrubbed his arms and chest, his dark armpits and belly, then his legs and feet, taking his time. Lather rolled down his thighs, through the dark hair dusting his calves.
When I touched his cock he glanced at me with a puzzled expression.
I said, “Don’t forget this.”
He giggled and blushed, still looking at me. Then he washed his cock and balls, taking his time. He retracted his foreskin, too, so he could clean himself thoroughly.
When he’d finished, I said, “Turn around and I’ll do your back.”
I took the cloth and started at his neck. I did his shoulders and shoulder blades, making circles. I moved south, scrubbing the small of his back, then his buttocks. I even slipped the cloth into his crack and took a few swipes.
He flinched, but didn’t try to stop me.
I patted his ass cheek. “Okay,” I said, “turn around and rinse off.”
When he did so, his cock bobbed before him, stiff as a peg, as thick as a broom handle, and easily eight inches. His glans peeked out from his foreskin. I stared at his boner. Then I looked up at Thad and gave him a wink. He blushed and glanced away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve made me … excited.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Let’s do your hair now.”
I reached for the shampoo bottle, poured a puddle of the stuff into the palm of my hand. After Thad drenched his head, I applied the shampoo and lathered it up. I massaged his scalp, running my hands through his dark tresses. His cock remained rigid as I did these things; it twitched with his heartbeat. After he’d rinsed his hair, I turned off the water, and then I gave Thad a towel. He took his time drying himself, remarking on the towel’s softness. His cock remained stiff.
Okay, I couldn’t help myself: I knew he was innocent—almost certainly a virgin—but he was so cute. He was naked in my bathroom, for god’s sake, and that cock. I sat on the toilet seat lid. Placing a hand on Thad’s thigh, I pulled him to me, so his cock bobbed before my face. Then I looked up at him and our gazes met.
He said, “What is it? Is something wrong?”
I shook my head. Then I took his cock in my fingers. I peeled back the foreskin, baring his bullet-shaped glans; I watched a pearl of pre-come ooze from the tip before I looked up at Thad.
“Has another boy touched you like this before?”I asked.
He blinked twice, and then shook his head.
I said, “I’m going to do something special for you; it’ll make you feel good.”
He licked one corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. Then he bobbed his chin. When I lowered my gaze, I noticed his knees trembled. I gripped the root of his cock with my thumb and index finger. Then I licked the shaft, first the underside, and then the topside with its bulging blue vein. I nibbled his foreskin while tickling his ball sac.
I took his cock into my mouth, as much as I could without gagging. Then I commenced sucking, using my tongue and lips, working his foreskin back and forth. Smacking sounds echoed off the shower tiles.
After Thad dropped his towel to the floor, he placed both hands on top of my head.
“It feels nice, Kevin.”
He bucked his hips, picking up my rhythm.
Gradually, I was able to swallow more of his cock, until my nose nudged his pubic bush and I smelled the soap he’d used. Continuing to suck, I lifted my gaze. Thad stared at the ceiling. His lips were parted, and his teeth reflected light from the bathroom fixture. His nose twitched. He worked his jaw from side to side, continuing to hump my face.
It didn’t take long—maybe three minutes—till his cock throbbed and his fingers flexed. His breath huffed. Then he cried, “Lord, Jesus.”
Semen flooded my mouth. I guzzled his seed; I savored its tang, enjoying the feel of his heavy cock resting on my tongue. His belly rose and fell as he caught his breath. I placed a hand on his hip, and then I kept his cock in my mouth while I jacked myself off. A few pumps were all I needed before a buzzing filled my ears. My breath whistled in my nose, my chest heaved, and then my cock spewed come. I splattered Thad’s shins and the tops of his feet with sticky goo.
I told myself, Oh, Kevin, you’ve found a lover-boy.
He’s a ghost, of course, but so what?
Okay, friends, that’s all for today. I hope you’re enjoying The Mirror, and have a great Wednesday, wherever you are.