An account of my life through my writing, the arts, men and media. All things homoerotic.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
DAEMON Second installment. Click here to see 1st installment.
The day I moved in with Martin we stayed in bed all day, only getting up to shower and fix a meal that we ate in bed. The kalyba had two rooms. A large bathroom was off the main room that was furnished with a bed and kitchenette. The bath was a blue and white tiled rectangle with a shower hose and nozzle. The sheets were a brilliant white with a white comforter that we never used. The walls were white stucco with photographs of the Greek Islands; the windmills of Mykonos, the village of Thera on the island of Santorini and the Temple of Apollo in Naxos. Everything was white and blue, the colors of the Greek flag. Martin was a slow lover. He knew how to take his time. The first time we made love was about two days before I moved into his kalyba. We had been at the disco and Dylan had met a young girl from Romania. I woke up to him fucking her in the bed next to mine in out hotel room. I started to jack off while I listened to them huffing and puffing, but decided it was way too frustrating, got up, got dressed and walked over to Martin’s. He had been extremely attentive at the disco that night. When I looked at him when we parted, his blue eyes never looked so inviting. Dylan was on the dance floor with the Romanian girl looking like he was fucking her from behind; I had had enough ouzo and disco music. I walked back to the hotel and fell asleep with the warm Aegean breeze blowing the curtains at the open window. I woke to the sounds of Dylan grunting rhythmically, his naked ass and hips thrusting away at the Romanian in the twin bed. I knocked on Martin’s door. He opened it, standing before me naked. We stood in the doorway for a moment, looking into one another’s eyes. He smiled, reaching out he grabbed my wrist, pulling me gently into the room. I closed the door, falling into his waiting arms. It was after three in the morning when I knocked on his door and we didn’t get to sleep until the sun came up around five. We had slept only a few hours, when I was awakened by the sound of a rooster and Martin running his hand up and down my torso. I was on my back, my cock hard. When he saw my eyes open, he kissed my nipples, moving slowly down my stomach, kissing me gently until he reached my throbbing morning erection. He grasped me by the base, licking the pre-cum that had gathered at the head of my dick. He kissed my engorged head, his tongue traveling up and down the length of the shaft. I began to move my hips slowly, matching his movement until he swallowed me, sliding his hand up and down as he wet my cock with his saliva. I gasped as he took it to the hilt, looking up at me with his beautiful blue eyes. In spite of the mouthful of cock, I could see him smile and I started to laugh. There was a tear in the corner of both eyes. He increased the speed of his movement and I arched my back, thrusting my cock into the air and into his hungry mouth. I had already come twice that morning, but felt my balls tightening as he sucked me harder. I came, letting out a loud moan as he lapped at my cock, licking my cum.
"An artist has always gotta be in the state of becoming"... Bob Dylan...
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