Date: Sun, 6 Mar 2011 23:27:20 -0800 (PST)
From: mindo_g@yahoo.com
Subject: That Time It Rained

The sound of my feet splashing prevailed over the noise of the rain. When I
reached cover, I realized I needn't have bothered; I would have been left
looking the same had I stayed under the rain for an hour.

I dripped and dripped as I waited for the elevator. I began to shake. The
slightest movement drew the sopping clothing against my skin, and in one of
those cruel jokes life pulls on you, the elevator was taking an eternity to
arrive. Just as I realized the button hadn't lit up, I heard a soft voice
behind me.

"It's out of order."

It was Mr. ****'s nephew. It must be, I thought. A week ago, my stepmother
had been urging me to "go down and introduce myself to the other young
person in the building". I never even considered it.

Something about him gave away that he was a boy, but I couldn't tell
what. His frame was very delicate. Thin neck, thin arms. His skin smooth
and clear. I was instantly uncomfortable.

"Thank you", I said; then I took my first step towards the stairs and
almost died. The idea of fourteen floors of agonizing cold suddenly
overwhelmed me.

"I saw you running in the rain. You must be freezing. You... you want to
come in?"

I stared at the floor, knowing I only had one choice.

"I can get you a towel and something to wear until your clothes dry out."

"That's okay", I said. I was positive he would keep insisting.

"Are you sure? There's no one home..."

I finally nodded and began to follow him before even processing those last
words. I couldn't shake off the feeling that what I was doing was unwise,
but at that moment the promise of warmth was everything to me.

I stepped into the apartment and he closed the door behind me. It was
dark. The curtains and shades were drawn; but it was warm.

"I'm Kay", the boy said as he laid newspapers on the floor. He was wearing
a sleeveless red t-shirt, black cotton shorts and beach sandals. That's
what he came out to greet me with in the windy rain.

"I'm Marcus, how's it going."

When he was done, he rose, let out a sigh and shook his brown hair off his
face, then moved to help me with my jacket. In the darkness, his lips
glistened slightly.

"Your shoes, you want to take them off? Use my sandals?"

"Don't worry, I'll stay in my socks."

"I'll wear something else. Here."

He took off his sandals and kneeled to take off my shoes. I felt stupid,
useless. Before I could say anything though, he was already on the second
foot. I put on his sandals and watched him wear a pair of fuzzy beige boots
he took from beside the door.

I took off my sweater. I realized the shirt I had underneath was also
moist, but I still intended to leave it on. That and the pants – that
was it for the undressing. What I wasn't expecting was Kay's fingers on my
buckle as I dried my hair with the towel. I looked at him, but he didn't
look back. When he moved onto the buttons of the jeans, I stopped him,
taking a step back, but not before he took a glimpse of the erection
pressing against my boxers.

"The pants I'm leaving on, thanks."

He nodded, staring at the floor. I had been feeling feverish, but now with
the blushing, every cold thought seemed like a thing of the past. Kay
kneeled at my feet and started picking up my stuff.

"Oh, no, no", I said, "I'll do that."

"Oh, okay. Here you go." He handed me the clothes and shoes as he very
fluidly shook off another braid of hair. My heart leapt.

"Your shirt is wet too."

"I'm leaving that on as well."

"No, you really shouldn't, you'll catch a cold."

He moved his hands towards my collar slowly, probably feeling I would stop
him again. I didn't. He began to unbutton me, taking his time. I noticed he
was breathing from the mouth. His clean breath hit me, warming up my
face. He looked at me. Did he smile? He took a step closer and I felt his
breath now on my chest. His legs were lined up against my wet pants. His
hair lightly tickled my skin. He finished with the buttons, then slid the
shirt off me, running his hands by my shoulders.

And then he kissed my chest. His shiny, frail lips swept my thorax as I
heaved, completely at a loss for what to do. All this did was encourage
him. He kissed me all over: the belly, the ribs, the navel. When he reached
my left nipple, he popped out his tongue and licked it.

His hands moved again to my jean buttons, and he worked them with cautious
confidence. The back of his hands rubbed repeatedly against the bulge in my
boxers. I dropped everything I was carrying just as he started to kneel. My
hands went straight to the back of his head. He scratched my hips as he
eagerly pulled down my boxers. Then my penis entered his wet, warm mouth,
and everything that I thought mattered no longer did.

Every time he moaned, I felt the vibrations. He varied between sticking it
entirely in his mouth and taking it out to expressly lick the top. Every
time he did this, he looked up at me. He would stroke and caress it like a
living being in need for tenderness. Then he took one last mouthful of it
before standing up, his hands still on my penis as if to keep it from
fleeing.

"I want you to enter me. Fuck me, make love to me."

He shook his hair back (again) and licked his lips, breathing heavily as he
awaited my answer. I gave it by thrusting my mouth against his. He grabbed
the back of my head and caressed my shoulders and neck. My hands, still
sane, unlike the rest of my body, managed to stay only on his
forearms. Wet, ferocious sounds would emanate from the kiss, which was
broken with a resonant smooch.

He took me by the hand to the living room. My sopping jeans stayed in a
bundle in the floor of the hall. I looked at Kay, and smothered any further
doubts simply with the endearing sight of his voluminous mop of hair
flopping around with each step he took. When we reached the couch he faced
me again and gave me quick, tender kisses as he took off his t-shirt,
baring his supple, thin chest. I grabbed it by the sides with my cold
hands, and finally gave in to the temptation of caressing his body. I
rubbed his nipples until they felt like leather, then sucked on them as he
looked down at me, stroking my hair and face. I ran my hands through his
hips, his small buttocks and shapely thighs. Then I grabbed him violently
by the hips and swung him around. His face landed on the leather cushion
and stayed there, looking at me from the side, his entire body heaving. I
pulled down his black shorts and was faced with his hole, placed amid a sea
of pink skin. Kay himself pulled them all the way down.

"Is it still wet?", he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he licked on
his hand and extended it backwards to rub my cock.

I bent over him, kissed his warm back, felt it against my face... and
entered him. It hurt. We both moaned. The smell of his hair was
intoxicating, and I suddenly let all my body lunge into that sea of
sensorial delight. I kissed his neck, his back, his shoulders; stroked his
tremulous thighs, his erect, pulsing dick. And I thrust. Again and again,
one painful time after the next, until it got good. With every push our
bodies grew sweatier, and our position shifted. It went from him pushing
his ass against my crotch to our bodies being aligned, with me being able
to reach his mouth with mine. Our lips caressed and wetted each other
without it being an actual kiss. I grabbed his jaw, stuck my fingers in his
mouth, felt him sucking on them, then took them out and spread his saliva
all over his chest and penis.

As the climax approached, the thrusting became less cautious, more
violent. His moaning got shrill while my grunts became howls. The leather
roared underneath our sweaty skin. His cum jet collided flatly against the
armrest of the couch. My orgasm took an extra second or two. When it
arrived, I pulled his head backwards and stole a last full kiss. The tip of
his tongue slid off my lips as we parted.

And it was over.

I snapped out of it, ready to be swept away by the horror of what I had
done. I began to get dressed. When I finished, trembling both from cold and
fear, I had him promise he wouldn't say anything to anyone; then I left.

I was, however, back that very weekend, and many times after that. To this
day I fondly remember our naked talks on the couch, with Kay wearing only
the boots I asked him to put on each time.