Marco in the Park - 10. Chapter 10

Marco in the Park - Part 10

Copyright 2015 - 2016 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.

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Marco was up and out of bed before seven in the morning. The sound of opening the sliding door to the balcony woke me up.

“It's getting light outside,” I heard him say as he peered out into the half light of morning.

I got out of bed and walked over to look into the twilight. “What happened to sleeping in this morning?”

“Don't you want to go see the beach?”

“The beach isn't going anywhere,” I protested.

Marco started pulling on his clothes. “Yes, but the sun comes up in the east. Isn't the beach on the east side? I bet we could watch the sunrise over the Gulf.”

After I thought a moment I said, “Yeah, that might be nice.” I started getting dressed.

Marco informed me, “It's not all that cold out and a sweater will be enough.” I had to hurry to follow him out the door.

It was cool, but by December standards back in Tulsa was rather pleasant. Marco jogged over to the beach with me right behind him. When we got there, we could see the sky beginning to grow light in the east.

The sky was clear with a few clouds near the horizon which appeared as a thin blue line in the dim half light. As we watched, the eastern sky was slowly filled with a dull blue light which began to appear rose colored at the horizon. The horizon grew lighter and turned a bright orange at the point above which the sun would first appear, throwing streaks of light across the clouds which lay at the far edge of the water. Finally the edge of the morning sun broke free and appeared to rise out of the ocean, a path of reflected light rippling across the water to where we stood. The sky brightened around the rising sun, spreading in brightness towards the darker regions to our left and right. The sun itself was a brilliant white-orange, almost too bright to look at with eyes recently accustomed to the dark of twilight. We sat down on the sand and watched as the great bright disk of the sun began to creep up over the horizon. increasing in size and brightness every moment. Marco reached over and took my hand, transfixed by the beauty of the sunrise. It seemed to move visibly and within minutes was up over the water, enormous, brilliant and squashed in shape, greater in width than in height, distorted by the atmosphere of the earth. It was gorgeous.

We sat hand in hand feeling the soft cool breeze of morning flow over us from the water. When I looked at Marco, I saw the face of a young boy overcome with wonder. His long hair was lifted from his shoulders by the breeze, his face tipped back and a smile on his lips. We sat quietly together memorizing the scene before us.

Finally Marco spoke. “That's the most beautiful thing I ever saw,” He looked around at the deserted beach. “Where is everybody? People should be out here watching this.”

I had to laugh. “This happens every morning. It's not a one time deal. Other people are still in bed.”

“I don't care. It's new to me. I will never forget this,” he leaned against me and squeezed my hand between the two of his.

He turned his head towards me and we kissed like in a movie, bathed by the early morning sunlight. After a few more minutes I became aware than my butt was wet from sitting on the sand.

“How about some breakfast?” I asked.

He straightened up and rubbed his belly. “Yeah, I could eat.”

“We are supposed to get a complimentary breakfast every morning,” I told him. “Let's go see what they have".

The spell broken somewhat, we walked slowly back to our hotel. I was expecting doughnuts and coffee but we were surprised to see a case of bagels, cold cereal with milk and orange juice, and a do it yourself waffle machine.

“How does this work?” Marco asked, looking at the waffles.”

"Open it up. See, there are two halves with a handle on each one. Pour a scoop of batter in there, close it up and turn it over. After a couple of minutes, you open it up and there is your big fluffy waffle.”

“Cool, I can do that." He made one, gave it to me and made another for himself,” grinning all the while. We sat and applied butter and syrup and helped ourselves to some sausage patties from a covered warmer.

“These aren't bad,” he declared. “Want another?”

“No, I'm good. You go ahead.” He made another and ate it but I thought it was more for the fun of operating the waffle iron than real hunger. He might have made a third but a family with kids came in and we turned the waffle iron over to them. Before we left, we put cream cheese on a couple of bagels and carried them back to our room.

“This is a cool place,” Marco decided. “You did good, Marty.”

“You just like it because you didn't have to pay for breakfast,” I teased.

Marco laughed, “Well, that too. Now what do we do? I want to see stuff.”

“I guess I'm the tour guide. I have never been down here but I tried to read up on things. There is a nature center with a museum just up the road, and a sea turtle exhibit. How does that sound?”

We walked out of the hotel to where our car was parked.

Marco paused before he answered. “Well, usually I'm a sucker for museums but.... How long are we going to be here?”

“We need to leave in the morning. Two nights but only one full day, and that's today.”

“Gosh Marty, I don't care, whatever you want to do.” He was hedging.

“Look guy, this is the official Marco sees the world tour. What sounds good to you?”

Marco looked out toward the Gulf. “If it's all the same to you, I would really like to go out on the water. You know, take a boat ride or go fishing or something. I have never done that before and it might really be fun.”

“Good sir, your wish is my command. Let's see if we can find a fishing boat. Have you ever been fishing before?”

“Grant let me come along on a campout with the scouts where we fished in this guys farm pond. I caught a little catfish and some perch. But they were so little we felt sorry for them and let them go. That's about it.”

I thought for a minute. “How about a boat to take us way out to catch some really big fish. Would that sound good to you?”

Marco's face lit right up. “That would sound awesome! Can we do that?”

“Maybe. You are supposed to book those things in advance but there aren't many people down here right now. I'm thinking we might find somebody to take us if we hustle. Let's ask the desk clerk, I bet he knows somebody.”

We went back in the hotel and approached the young guy at the desk. “We want to go out in a boat and try to catch some nice fish. How can we do that?” I asked him.

The clerk looked like he might be a year or two older than Marco, but not much. “Where y'all from?” he asked.

“We drove down here from Tulsa,” Marty told him.

He smiled at us, or rather he smiled at Marco. “I might know somebody who could take you. You'd have to pay him.”

“Well, of course we would expect to pay him,” I said. “Is it too late to call for today?”

“I know a guy. He might already have gone out, but if not, he might take you boys. I could call him for you,” he offered.

“We would appreciate that. We don't have any equipment with us We would have to borrow something.”

“Oh that's no problem. He's got everything you need. Just a minute.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and called a number. It rang.

“Bobby? I got two boys here who want to go fishing. What y'all doing today? – No, they'll need tackle. You got time to take them out? – No, they's just the two of them. They look like good guys – OK, I'll send them right over.” He wrote an address down on a slip of paper and handed it to me. “Here you go. His name's Bobby. He'll be looking for you. If you decide to go out you should take a lunch with you.”

“Sounds like we have a fishing boat. What do you think?” I asked Marco as we walked away.

“I really want to do this, but I keep thinking about that movie 'Deliverance'. If this guy tells me 'I got a purty mouth,' I'm not getting in his boat.”

I had to laugh. “Don't worry, I think we can defend you. You took care of Carl all by yourself.”

We stopped by a deli and picked up sandwiches and soda for a lunch then drove to the address on the slip of paper. It was a boat dock halfway up the island. Bobby was sitting in front of his boat slip in a folding aluminum chair.

“Hello, are you Bobby?” I asked.

'”Yes sir,” he drawled. “You must be the boys who want to go fission'.”

“That would be us,” I smiled.

Bobby was a classic good old boy, but seemed nice enough. At least he didn't make lecherous remarks about Marco's mouth. He pointed out that he had all the fishing gear we needed and showed us his boat. It was a nice sized boat with a cabin where we could sit inside. It would accommodate 5 or 6 people but he said today was a slow day. He would take us out for half a day for $65.00 each. We thought that sounded great. He made us put on life jackets and we got in the boat.

“Have you boys ever been deep sea fishing before?” he asked us.

“Not me, and Marco has never done much fishing at all,” I replied.

“Well that's good,” Bobby said. “You won't have any bad habits to break. Hang on while we go out a little ways.”

We sat behind him while he started the engine on his boat and slowly backed out, reversed and eased out of the dock area. Once clear, he roared off at a good clip. Marco was all smiles. He headed out over the open water and we soon left the island behind us. Marco ran to the rear and watched as Padre Island disappeared in the distance. Before long, it was out of sight and we were surrounded by nothing but water.

“Look off over there,” Bobby pointed out to one side of the boat. We saw a group of bottle nosed dolphins zipping through the water, rising and falling as they followed along beside us.

Bobby told us, “They might follow us back too. They're looking for handouts.” Marco was in heaven.

We enjoyed the ride. The boat sped smoothly through the water with a gentle up and down motion. After about 30 minutes, Bobby came to a spot he thought would yield some nice fish and we slowed to a stop. He had us sit near the back of the boat in swivel chairs and fixed us up with some fishing rods.

“Alright now boys. I think we can find us some red snapper around here. I got a bucket of belly meat from some bonito I caught yesterday. Put a strip on your hook and wrap it around, stick the hook in it in several places. We don't want it to come off. Now toss it out there and let it sink. Count to ten and then set the clicker, OK?” We did as instructed under his watchful eye. Nothing happened.

Bobby coached us some more. “Raise the bait up and then let it sink down again. You want to catch their eye, you see. And tuck the end of the pole under your arm and hold it pretty tight. When one of them hits the bait, they can jerk that pole right out of your hands.” We waited.

Twenty minutes, thirty minutes passed. Marco started stretching and looking around at the endless water. It was fairly calm with light swells. I thought about reeling my line in to see if my bait was still there when....

SCREEECH! The brake on Marco's reel began to sing, and the end on his pole pointed downward. “Shit! I got something!” he yelled.

“Hang on to that rod!” Bobby called to him and stepped to his side and began to instruct him. “Pull up on the rod and crank the reel in when you lower it. You got to bring him in boy!”

Marco's face was one of pure delight and excitement as he pumped and reeled as best he could. “I've got him!”

“You're doing fine, just keep reeling him in,” Bobby encouraged.

I was so interested in what Marco was doing that I wasn't paying attention to my own line. All of a sudden, it jerked hard and I had my own fish to contend with.

Bobby stayed with Marco but shouted instructions to me. “Pump the rod and start reeling him in, just like your buddy here. That's it. You boys are doing fine.”

Marco got his fish to the surface where it flashed red and silver. “That's a nice Snapper,” Bobby called out and expertly scooped it into a net at the end of a long handle. He dumped it out into the boat then came to my side.

“Bring him in,” Bobby called to me as my catch broke the surface. It was another Red Snapper, not as large as Marco's but damn fine. Bobby expertly netted it and there were two fish on the deck of the boat.

Marco and I did a modified happy dance while Bobby laughed at us both.

“Are you boys quitting already? Bait those hooks and put out again. There are more where those came from.”

We broke off the dance and baited our hooks again, looking for more excitement. We continued this madness until we had brought up half a dozen lovely fish. Bobby culled and returned several that were undersized but we were thrilled with our catch. As suddenly as the excitement began, it ceased and we sat looking expectantly at the tips of our poles and waited and waited.

While we waited in vain for the fun to resume, Bobby stowed our catch in some compartments filled with sea water and resumed his banter.

“I think you boys were just funnin' me about not fishing before, You look like fishermen to me. Marco, you brought that big one in like a pro. Now don't be greedy, you might want to leave a few out here for the next guy.” Marco was delighted.

We rebaited again, this time with some small cuttlefish. Dropped them a little shallower and tried to be patient. Nothing happened for another half hour. Bobby decided we needed to move closer to the reef and started his engine.

“If you boys brought you a lunch, this would be a good time to eat,” he told us.

We suddenly realized that we were very hungry and devoured the sandwiches we packed with us. Bobby stopped again after about 20 minutes. We tried the cuttlefish again and settled in to see what happened. By now, it was early afternoon and we watched as some darker clouds at the horizon began to come closer. With the clouds came a stiffening of the wind and the sea began to swell. The boat which had been calm in the morning began to rock and move in unpredictable directions. It was not a violent movement, but enough to make us unsteady.

Marco was watching the end of his rod intently when he turned to me with a look of distress.

“I don't feel good,” he said to me quietly, and hiccuped. After a few more minutes, he leaned over the side of the boat and threw his lunch into the water.

Bobby laughed. “You'll feel better now!”

Marco's face had a distinct greenish cast. The wind picked up again and the sky darkened.

Bobby looked around and said, “I'm sorry boys, but it looks like we might be in for some rain. We need to head back.” We pulled in our lines and Bobby stowed our fishing gear and started the engine.

Once the boat began to move, the rocking motion steadied and we skipped along on the waves. We went inside the little cabin and breathed deeply. It was better now.

“I'm sorry Marty. I guess I got seasick or something.”

“Don't worry about it. I was getting queasy myself. We are not used to being out on the water like this,” I reassured him.

Bobby over heard us and laughed. “Happens all the time. You get used to it pretty quick. You boys need to come back tomorrow. You did good.”

“I wish we could,” I told him. “We have to start back in the morning.”

“So soon? You boys need to come back down here later in the season. I can take you out to find some Bluefin Tuna.”

Marco smiled at him. “I would like that. I appreciate your help. I think this is the most fun I ever had.”

Bobby looked back and smiled at him. “I hope you do that. I enjoyed you boys. You come back and look me up, you hear?”

We promised to do just that.

“You boys want me to clean these Snapper for you?”

“I would love to have them for dinner but we have no way to cook them and I don't know that they would travel well,” I told him.

“How long will you be on the road going home?”

“We will leave in the morning and be home Friday,” I said.

“Tell you what. It would be a shame to leave these behind. If you have an ice chest, I can filet these and freeze them tonight, and you can pick them up in the morning. I will be back at the dock by eight o'clock in the morning,” Bobby offered.

“Can we?” Marco asked. “I would love to take them home. I can do them justice, I think.”

“Can that boy cook?” Bobby chuckled.

“He can. He's a fine cook. We will accept your kind offer. We'll come see you in the morning”

“Before you go, can I ask what you plan to do for supper tonight?”

Marco and I looked at each other. “I don't guess we have made any plans, why?” I asked.

“Well, if you would like to eat Red Snapper, I can filet one of these beauties and if you take them to Cap'n Roy's, he will cook them up for your dinner.”

“Really? That would be cool.” Marco had recovered from his nausea and was hungry again.

“Well give me just a minute and I'll head and gut one of these and Roy will do the rest. Just tell him Bobby sent you.”

Bobby parked his boat in the slip and we got out, rather grateful to stand on something that was not moving. I gave him a hundred and a fifty, figuring that was a modest but well deserved tip. He smiled, handed us a nice fish wrapped in foil and shook hands with both of us. It began to rain as we walked to the car.

By the time we got back to the hotel it was drizzling steadily and there was a stiff breeze. It was cooler, but still not cold by December standards in Tulsa. We had been lucky with the weather. Back in the room we put our fish in the little refrigerator and showered together but with a minimum of dancing. We were tired after our day of fishing. We stretched out on the bed and discussed the excitement of the day, then took a little nap before dinner.

We woke about seven and discussed our dinner.

“Are you hungry now?” I asked Marco.

“Yes I am. I lost my lunch and feel OK now, but I am really empty.”

“Me too. Are you ready for Cap'n Roy's?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. Where is this place?”

“It is not far from where Bobby keeps his boat. I saw it when we drove by. “You ready?”

He was. We dressed, packed up our fish and off we went.

Cap'n Roy's was a little place right on the bay. It looked small with 'Seafood and Mexican Food' across the top, so we were not sure what to expect. It was bigger inside than it looked and the walls were covered with photographs and large mounted trophy fish. When we presented Roy with our fish and told him that Bobby had sent us, we were treated like royalty. In no time, our lovely fresher than fresh Red Snapper came out as two enormous grilled fillets with french fries and a big salad. It was cooked to perfection and more than we could eat, but we ate it anyway. Roy did us proud.

Back in the room, we reclined on our king size bed. We were determined to utilize it to the fullest while we had the chance. But first we had to digest a belly full of food, so decided to do some trip planning.

“So what is the plan for tomorrow?” Marco wondered.

“Well, I don't know. Let's talk about it. Tomorrow is Thursday and you have to work Friday night, so we need to be back in Tulsa by 3:00 or 3:30. We can make a long drive tomorrow and a shorter drive on Friday. That kind of means we stop in Dallas.”

“What time will we get to Dallas?”

“We have to pick up our fish from Bobby at eight o'clock and he will probably talk to us for thirty minutes. It is 560 miles from here to Dallas which with stopping for lunch is about 9 or so hours. I would guess we will get to Dallas about 5 or 6 in the evening.”

“So what is there to do in Dallas for a pair of road weary travelers at that time of day?”

“The short answer is not much,” I said. “By that time of day it is too late to get our money's worth out of Six Flags or anything like that. Those places are very pricey anyway. We don't drink so the usual bar routine isn't interesting. I guess we check into a motel early, find something to eat and then go fuck like bunnies.”

Marco nodded. “Works for me. So what is Friday like?”

“It's four hours from Dallas to Tulsa, so I thought maybe we could do something cultural like visit a museum or something in the morning then leave about 11:00, but the museums don't open until late in the morning so that doesn't work. There really isn't anything to do in Dallas that fits into our schedule.”

Marco considered that. “So our last 2 days are just drive home?”

“Pretty much,” I agreed.

“San Antonio was cool. How would a stopover there work?”

“Well, let's see. About 300 miles, four and a half hours – we could be in San Antonio by 1:00 and there is lots to do in San Antonio, but it's another eight and a half or nine hours from there to Tulsa. That is a long day to get you back in time to work Friday night.”

“So to get back by 3:30 we would have to leave San Antonio at six in the morning?” Marco calculated.

“Something like that,” I agreed.

“That makes a long day, but I think that sounds like more fun than blowing off the whole trip back. Could we do that?” Marco asked.

“You will be dragging your ass Friday night.”

Marco Shrugged. “So?”

“You want to do that? I mean, it doesn't matter to me. I am off until Monday.”

“Sure. Let's do it that way. Maybe we can stay somewhere cool and eat on one of those river boats.”

“Sounds like a plan. We'll have to get up early on Friday and boogie up to Tulsa.”

Marco rolled over and stuck his nose in my neck. “Let's do that. Right now, I want to play on this nice bed.” It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

We had showered quickly after we came back from our fishing trip. That was sufficient for eating at Cap'n Roy's, but only marginally acceptable for the sort of games we intended to play on the king size playing field. While we had scored some goals last night we were not patient enough to have made use of the whole field. Tonight we were neither that tired, nor pressed for time. We figured we could cover a lot of territory.

“We need to shower again,” Marco announced as he tossed off his clothes and trotted into the bathroom. “Cleanliness is next to Godliness you know.”

I wasn't sure this was the proper context for that saying but wasn't inclined to argue the point. I just followed him into the shower. It was larger than our shower at home and allowed for a more acrobatic dance. The hotel had thoughtfully provided us with complimentary bath gel which made both an excellent shampoo and body wash. Marco liked to go first so I poured a generous amount on his head and began to wash his beautiful hair.

I loved to run my hands and fingers through his long hair, pulling it straight and feeling the long smooth strands pass through my fingers. To me it was a prelude to making love, a sort of foreplay to what was invariably an erotic intercourse. This was followed by spreading the lather from his hair over the rest of his body – over his arms, across his chest and belly, over his hips and down his long slender legs. Special attention was paid to his slim brown uncut cock and furry testicles. He enjoyed it when I retracted his foreskin and washed his penis with a motion similar to that used when milking the teat of a jersey cow. I knew he liked it because he shivered and raised himself up on the balls of his feet.

I turned him around and scooped the last of the lather to wash his broad back and narrow hips, paying special attention to his melon shaped butt. As I intended to be pressing my face into that area rather soon it needed to be kissing sweet. Of course it was important to remove any trace of soap from the inner parts lest they become irritated. This entire region was hallowed ground and had to be treated with the utmost care, Properly done, this left his penis standing up straight and pressed flat against his belly. He was remarkably patient with my efforts and did not seem to want me to hurry. On this occasion, I tested his member for any residue of soap by tasting it carefully. It passed the inspection to our mutual satisfaction. Now it was his turn.

While I had much less hair on my head to serve as a reservoir of lather to spread over the rest of my body, he made use of the hair on my chest and belly to store sufficient suds to wash the rest of me. He was gentle as he spread the foam over my front and down to my feet which he liked to give special attention, separating and washing each toe as I stood first on one foot then the other to assist him in his efforts. Before he turned me around, he checked and rinsed my swollen cock, testing it for any trace of soap that might remain.

When he rotated my hips to encourage me to turn so that my back side could be washed, he massaged my neck and shoulders in a most pleasant way, running his fingers down the center of my back and through the crack of my ass, taking special care to cleanse the hair that decorated each side of my anus, even just inside to the area where he hoped to lodge his own pink tongue. I held very still so as to assist him in completing his work. It was nice to take the time to do these things properly. I tried to be patient, especially when he tenderly massaged that delicate area between my anus and my testicles. I felt very clean indeed.

Our dance this evening was done at a slow cadence, unhurried and thorough. Time was not important as we had no other activities planned except for toweling each other dry. We took turns passing the same towel back and forth between us until we were ready to move forward to the next stage of this ritual. That point was marked by a long gentle embrace followed by a slow tender kiss. We were ready to move to the playground.

When we first met, our field of play was a simple double bed. After moving to the larger apartment, we equipped ourselves with a queen size bed which allowed more room to mambo. Now in this rented space, we found ourselves in a playground fit for a king and intended to make the most of it. We scarcely knew where to begin.

Marco stretched out across the wide bed and indicated that I lie beside him with our heads pointed in opposite directions. Once so positioned, we went directly to the task of pleasuring each other by mutual and simultaneous fellatio, competing to see who could swallow the other the deepest. As he was somewhat less well endowed, I might have won that competition. In spite of this uneven contest, the result was mutually satisfactory. We continued in this way until it looked like we might conclude the dance before the music ended. It was time to proceed to the next level.

Marco was motivated to take the lead in this evening's dance. He encouraged me to roll over on my stomach while he maneuvered himself behind me and began to work my back parts with his mouth. His tongue found my crack and coated it with his saliva. Not content to wet the outer surface of my anus, he pressed his tongue into my hole and caused me to shiver with pleasure. I reached back with my hands and spread my cheeks to assist him. He continued this process until I pressed my face into a pillow and began to vocalize rather loudly. Soon it became clear that something other than his tongue was required, and I indicated my agreement with an upward tilt of my posterior. He smeared himself with some of the fluid oozing from his penis and pressed himself against my quivering hole. The next step in the process followed very quickly and he entered me fully. I responded with a quick inhalation and cried out my approval. Although Marco was more accustomed to being on the receiving end of this activity, he managed to fuck me very competently, being rewarded by my moan of pleasure.

The truth was that I liked being fucked, especially by this beautiful boy. I liked it almost as much as he did, although he usually volunteered to be the recipient of our lovemaking. When he did do the honors, we both enjoyed it very much. Tonight his efforts were inspired and he fucked me with long slow deliberate passion. I responded by alternately squeezing my ass muscles on his cock and moving from side to side. He indicated his approval by gnawing on my neck. It was good.

After a few minutes I made him pause and rolled over onto my back, raising my knees and letting him enter me again so that I could look at his face while he fucked me. His expression was one of great pleasure. I bent forward and kissed him with an open mouth, sucking his tongue and rubbing the back of his head, his lovely hair spilling down over my face and chest. His movements increased in tempo as he approached the point of no return. He sucked on my nipples and emptied his nuts into my ass, gasping and crying out with pleasure. I held him tight and let him settle down on me to recover himself. He rewarded me by covering my chest with kisses, licking my tits and rubbing his face across the hair on my chest.

We were in no hurry, we had all night to devote ourselves to this dance we loved so much. When his breathing returned to normal, I turned him on his back and reversed the ritual by pressing my face into his crack and started to lick, suck and slobber his hairless ass. His sensitivity was very keen, having just experienced his own orgasm which made my efforts all the more intense. I alternated between his ass and his softening penis which was still oozing fluid. He liked this very much.

When he was properly lubricated, I pressed my rigid cock against his wet hole and slid inside him. He responded by thrusting hard against me. We were ready for another round. I attempted to be as slow and gentle as my hormones would allow, pulling out until just the head was inside him then plunging in slowly until I was as deep as possible, my pubic hair scratching against his ass. I moved in and out, allowing the feel of movement to be savored slowly and deliciously between us. I could feel the inner surface of his rectum sliding over my hard cock, he could feel the head of my penis stroking his prostate. We tried to make it last.

Marco pushed me away and encouraged me to lie on my back. Then he sat astride me and impaled himself on my erection, easing me into his ass until he was sitting flush with me inside him. He began to rise up and push down, doing all the work while I looked at him and played with his hair which surrounded his face like a curtain and brushed over my belly. His now soft cock flopped against my belly as he worked me. I wanted this to last forever. When I came close to orgasm, I made him stop and we kissed until the intensity eased. Then he started to ride me again. We were able to repeat this process for many minutes until the inevitable happened and I pulled him close then emptied myself into his ass. He covered my face with kisses as I gasped for breath.

We lay together for a long time, both totally exhausted and floating in a blissful haze. When at last he pulled away and lay beside me I knew that this was a love that I wanted to keep alive forever. I was determined that nothing would ever come between us.

“I love you Marco. I could never imagine loving anyone as totally as I love you.”

“I know,” he said. “I love you the same way. I want this to last forever and forever.”

There was nothing left for us to be said. We lay entwined until sleep took us both.

TO BE CONTINUED

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