Date: Fri, 8 Jun 2018 15:56:13 +0200 (CEST)
From: marin.giustinian@laposte.net
Subject: Distant Thunder

In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive. For
whomever it would be illegal, immoral or forbidden for any other reason
whatsoever to read a story about love between two consenting young cousins
is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A photo album (pdf)
concerning this story is available upon request
<marin.giustinian@laposte.net>. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.

----------

DISTANT THUNDER
Part 1 out of 3

by Marin Giustinian

----------

Nowadays, in and around the Pamlico Sound in North Carolina (Google Maps or
Google Earth if you're not familiar with the place)

----------

I was born and raised in Kinston, North Carolina. My Mom had a flower shop
and my Dad ran a little landscaping company. I was a very average student
in high school. The only subject I excelled in was Arts and Crafts. The
idea had never even dawned on me to go off to college. My parents couldn't
have afforded it anyway.

During the summer, until I was seventeen, I worked with my Uncle Pete up in
Raleigh. His wife, Sally and my Mom were sisters. He did carpentry, joinery
and house renovations on his own. That's how I learned how to work with
wood -- and really enjoyed it.  I had a big sister and Uncle Pete and Aunt
Sally had three kids : two girls and then, Jonathan. He and I were the only
boy cousins in the close family.

My artistic side came from my mother. She sketched a lot, designing her
floral arrangements, bouquets and such. She taught me some of the basics of
drawing and watercolors. I loved it.

So when graduation came up, I decided to set up my own trade, redoing small
pieces of used furniture and decorating them with my original hand
paintings. I sought a place where I could find a lot of interior decoration
shops, gift stores and other outlets for my work. I never thought about
doing things for art galleries.

The Outer Banks area looked right for my line of trade. Cottage owners
always like to decorate. Moreover, the Pamlico Sound fascinated me ever
since I a kid. I went down there on a campout for a week when I was a scout
and fell in love with the place.

What helped in making a choice is that I was a loner. I didn't have to keep
in mind what somebody else liked or not liked. When I was by myself, I'm
fine. There was always something to do. I was a closeted gay virgin
too. That's one of the reasons why I wanted to get away from Kinston. I
hated it when people always nosed into my inexistent love life and
stuff. Thank God my parents avoided the subject. To sum that up, I had no
love life at all and that suited me fine!

So when I turned eighteen and had finished school, I had some savings left
over from my summer jobs. My parents gave me a nice start-in-life check and
my grandparents, living down in Florida, gave me money to buy myself a neat
little Wrangler Sahara. (Yes, they did spoil me...) So I had no need to
wait. During the summer, I built myself a kind of gypsy wagon on a flatbed
trailer. That took me about three months and in mid-September of that year,
I hauled myself down to Hyde County with all my stuff to look for a place
to settle and set up my little business. The only places where I could park
were really lousy. I pushed on some more. On the third day looking, I
stopped for lunch at a road side diner just outside of Engelhard. There, an
elderly gentleman came up as I was coming back to the car. He made some
nice comments on my wagon saying he liked it a lot. From what I gathered,
he was a kind of old hippy, still tuned in on alternative things. I didn't
know if he had been to Viet-Nam or not, but judging from his wrinkles, tan
and ten day beard, he seemed to have seen a lot!

We struck up conversation. He asked and I told him what I was looking for
and why. He thought that was a great idea, making and selling hand painted
pieces of thrown away furniture, and why not grunge barn wood, as he
suggested. He said that the yankees moving down on the coast around there
were loaded with cash and loved decoration and gift shop articles. I told
him that's what I had figured on.

He scratched his head, smiled and simply said, "I think I've got what you
need, boy, if you don't mind being on the water. I've got a little plot and
an old dock down on the creek leaving Middletown, that I don't do anything
with. It's just a couple of miles from here. If you rip out the weeds and
clean the place up, I can rent it to you, but I warn you, it's really out
in the boondocks. You might come across a deer or a bear and the snakes are
really happy there too, but it's damn pretty and peaceful. You wouldn't be
bothered by neither the rednecks nor the tourists there."

"Is there water and electricity?"

"No, but would you be interested anyhow?"

"Maybe, can we see it?"

"Sure, come with me."

I got in his pickup. We crossed Middletown, took a dirt road to the end and
pulled into a clearing facing the creek. The place did need cleaning up,
but it was everything I had dreamt of!

"You can put up some solar things for electricity and sink a little well
for some water. It ain't that far under and it'd cost you around three
hundred bucks. I know a guy up in Belhaven who does it. We got to beat the
system, you know! Get off grid, as they say."

"Sounds interesting. How much rent would you take."

"How much can you give me?"

"What about eighty a month and a written guarantee that you won't throw me
out once the place is cleaned up and the well pump installed..."

"Let's say a hundred plus a five year notarized lease renewable and you've
got a deal. By the way, I go by the name of Trigger. Got that name because
I used to be a real hot shot, like you, boy!" he laughed through his
squinted eyes, scratching his chin.

"Trigger, what about ninety and you've got a deal."

He smiled at me, tilted his head and said, "Ninety it is! You drive a good
deal, boy! And how do I call you?"

"Sorry, Sir... My name's Barry. I appreciate the compliment about being a
hot shot... Even if I'm happy as a loner."

"Ain't no problem being a loner as long as you're in good company with
yourself, and I know what I'm talking about! Get in the car, boy. I'll take
you back. We can do the paper work and handle the cash later."

"You got a phone?"

"If you need me, just leave a message with Mildred at the restaurant."

We shook hands getting out of his truck. I got into my car and drove real
easy to my new personal territory. I was really happy! At last, I had my
home.

Middletown is a place where nobody wants to go, a kind of ghost town. No
businesses, no restaurant, nothing! I immediately fell in love with the
place. There's something marvelously pathetic with the lingering life I
felt hanging on there. Past still hovering in space. I felt like I was no
longer exiled in the kind of frenetic nowness that haunts the malls and
Burger Kings and schools I grew up in. I was lightyears away from the
monotonous suburbia invading nature, mile after mile, spreading the same
houses, the same traffic jams, the same people striving for the same stupid
things like money, status, a SUV up front and a pool out back.

Down here, I found the people not necessarily very smiley, but they take
their time with you and don't mind your business. I can't say I made
friends. Trigger kept a friendly eye on me, so did a few of the people I
met shopping or eating at the Big Bass Diner over in Engelhard, but, when I
consider things all in all, if the absence of stress, pain and illness is
happiness, I was happy and that's what counts.

It was a good move.

In only three years time, I had turned twenty-one, my business had brought
me a decent income. I hardly bought anything, so more than half of my
income went into savings. I made three trips a year around to my best
retailers. There were two on the Outer Banks and three in the
Morehead-Beaufort-Bogue sound area. The rest of my time, I worked, listened
to music, read a lot and tried out new ideas like transferring photos on to
wood, enhancing them with my own personal touch.

The first year, I worked with rummaged furniture that I refinished and
painted. Then the second year, I bought small raw wood furniture such as
coffee tables, night stands, serving trays and decorated them. After that,
I just did pieces of grunge wood I transferred photos on and painted,
etched, scratched and tinted. Some were just paintings, others just photos,
most were a combination of both.

I was however getting a bit tired of flowers, sunsets and sea shells on
wood all the time. They sold well, but it bored me to no end 'producing'
them. The problem was that nothing more around actually inspired me!

And then, above all, I yearned for a boat! Dwelling with so much water
around and being stuck on land was pure torture! The old dock just in front
of my campsite was just waiting for a boat.

Doing my accounting one morning, I realized that I had perhaps enough money
to build, or have built, the I needed. I was set on a classic Harkers
Island juniper skiff. That had become a kind of an obsession. I found,
bought and studied some plans I liked, but building it myself was way too
complicated for me. A boat like that needs the traditional knowhow that I
did not have.

So on one of my trips to the Morehead area, I drove over to Harkers Island
and spent several days talking with the boat builders there. That's when I
got really lucky. I was told to contact the last fellow who still knew how
to make a wooden boat like I wanted and he hadn't yet left on
retirement. His sons had left him some space in the back of the family boat
yard to keep him busy while they built fiberglass speed boats the way the
waterfront home owners wanted.

The old man was first intrigued that youngster like me would be interested
in a traditional boat. We talked and talked and talked some more and then
settled on a model and a price. He said it was going to be his masterpiece
since it was going to be the last one he would make! No plastic nonsense,
no speed, just boat. I was happy as a bee in honeysuckle. We agreed on the
perfect, open skiff, twenty-eight feet long, nice and wide, with a tiller
and an outboard well for a Tohatsu 40 HP with a prop pitched for power and
not speed, the ones the fishermen use to haul nets. There would be nothing
that breaks down that I can't fix, no computers, no phony stuff, no
show-off.

From that day on I spent hours driving back and forth to Harkers Island. I
was fascinated by watching how the boat shaped up. I even gave Mr. Guthrie
a hand on doing the finishings. He saw that I had skill and seemed to take
on to me. I guess I was about the only person he spoke with now who was
really interested in his soon lost art.

However, on the other hand, I hardly went upstate anymore. Family had
become something a bit distant, to say the least, and the family didn't
appreciate that at all. But, I couldn't be everywhere!

During that time, my hand-painted grunge wood 'art' business was
flourishing. I raised my prices which slowed down the volume and increased
the income. My retailers even agreed that I could go ten percent higher and
it would still sell as well. There are people who buy stuff simply because
it's expensive... Crazy, no?

Whatever.

The day came for the launching. I baptized my boat Spirit. I could come
pick her up she had sealed in the water. The wood had to swell, making it
watertight. That would take about two weeks. Only two more weeks to go! God
was I excited!

Then it happened.

On the 8th of July, just a few days before picking up my boat, my phone
rang. I looked at the incoming number. It was Mom.

"Hi Mom! What's up?"

"We're all fine, thank you. I trust you are too... No news, good news as
they say. So, I'll get straight to the point."

"I'm listening."

"Your Aunt Sally called me concerning you."

"Me? What for?"

"Your cousin, Jonathan, graduated from high school almost two months ago
and refuses to go to college. He simply states that he's not going. He
doesn't want to stay in any school a day longer. He took the general
college entrance exam and was admitted to East Carolina but now he says he
wants to do like you did, become an artist... and if I'm calling, it's
because he wants to come and meet you, he says he has to get to know you at
last. Sally told me that he said his future was at stake! Can you imagine?"

"Listen, I'm really busy right now. I'm taking delivery of my boat in four
few days and orders for my stuff keep coming in... I don't know if I can
have him around. He's such a campy little nerd anyhow..."

I then heard a very loud sigh followed by an exasperated silence on Mom's
end of the line.

"Okay, Mom, for how long does he want to stay?"

I could hear her smile. She had won, as usual. Then she went on, "Listen, I
don't really know. The best is that you call her. You've got Sally's number
of course?"

"I lost it."

"Got something to jot it down on?"

"Yes."

"Here it is, you call and work it out with her."

"And you, Mom? What do you think about all that? About him wanting to do
what I do?"

"I'm not going to beat around the bush! I don't think it's a very good idea
for him to think he can do like you. Only you can do it, for sure. And you
don't really know each other either. You haven't seen him since he was 14
at Christmas three years ago."

I replied, making a last attempt to wiggle out of the situation, "Mom, I
remember how moody he was, moping around with his nose in his smartphone
all the time. There's the space problem too. You know my wagon! I don't
have that much space and..."

"Listen to me, Barry Hamlin. Guys can shack out together a few days, no?
He's your cousin after all! That's family! And whatever you think, family
is important! So I think he should come and see you anyhow!"

(silence)

"Do you hear me? I said FAMILY IS IMPORTANT! You should invite him down
RIGHT NOW! That's what I think. Am I clear?"

It was clear that any further discussion was totally useless.

"Yes, M'am... Five by five. Repeat Sally's number please."

I called Aunt Sally. She filled me in on everything, emptying her sack so
to speak. I finally said I'd take him in for a very few days. I told her
that I was very busy, but since Jonathan wants to see how I make my living,
I won't have to entertain him as if he was a moody teenager on
vacation. He'd get the real scene. She said that would be
perfect. According to her, he'd grown up a lot.

"Listen, he's right here beside me. Why don't you handle it together?
Jonathan, take the phone and talk to Barry yourself."

"Hello Barry, thank you for calling."

Nice voice.

I simply said, "So you want to come and live a few days to see what an
artist's life is like?"

"Yes, I do! I love art and crafts and I've heard so much about you! You're
sort of a model for me! I really need to see you before making up my mind
about what to do from now on. Dad has given up on me and..."

"I see. Let's get to the point, can you come down to Harkers Island on the
12th? I'll be there to pick up my boat. We could return with her to my
place and see what happens from there on. That's the only time I can spare
you. If you accept those conditions, you pack with just one duffle bag and
in spite of the heat, bring a sweater and bonnet. It can get really chilly
out on the water."

"That's wild! Oh! Thank YOU! Let me ask my mother."

"Hello Barry, Sally speaking again. That's absolutely wonderful of you. I
can't thank you enough. You know we are all so proud of you! But tell me
about this boat thing. Jonathan's so excited that I didn't understand a
damn thing he said! Boat, bonnet, what's up?"

I calmly told her the plan and she calmed down and agreed to be on the dock
in Harkers Island with Jonathan at the address I gave her at ten o'clock,
and not a minute after, on the 12th of July.

Once that call was over and things decided, I tried to stay positive about
it all. I finally convinced myself that it was good to have an extra hand
aboard for the maiden trip. Also, there's no better way to get to know
somebody than to go on a boat trip together. This being said, I crossed my
fingers really hoping he'd changed, and changed a lot!

----------

Trigger drove me down on the 11th. He took a look at the boat and nodded
his approval. We had lunch and he left. I spent the afternoon equipping her
for the maiden trip, wrote out the last check and thanked Mr. Guthrie. One
adventure was ending ; another, beginning.

With the excitement of the upcoming trip as well as dreading my little
cousin's intrusion in my life, I had problems sleeping that night. I got up
early, treated myself to a great breakfast at the motel and went over to my
boat. She was really gorgeous and she was mine! While I was going through
the 'do-not-forget' list for the umpteenth time, Aunt Sally's gigantic SUV
drove up.

Jonathan hopped out. I sort of gasped when I saw him standing there in a
tee shirt and cutoffs, stretching and looking around. He was definitely
very, very good looking from the head all the way down! He slung his duffle
bag over his shoulder and pulled a picnic bag out of the car.

Looking over and seeing me, he ran up saying, "Hi, Barry! I'm really happy
you accepted me coming! Mom prepared us a picnic for the trip," he
exclaimed, dropping his bag on the dock.

"Glad to have you with me too! You've really grown up!"

"Can't hold back nature, can you?"

I hugged Aunt Sally, thanking her for the picnic. She only said, "That's a
hell of a drive to come down here! Four hours straight! We had to get up at
5 o'clock! Can you imagine? Thank God, Jonathan helped me drive some. I'm
already pooped. I don't know how I going to make it back! So where's the
yacht?"

"Over here, Aunt Sally."

"But...? It's just a plain old fashioned local boat or something like that!
I thought you'd have something better! More up to date!" she exclaimed,
taking her sunglass off and squinting her eyes to examine what she didn't
know to be a masterpiece.

Jonathan groaned, "Mom... please... Cousin Barry, it's absolutely
beautiful! Simple, elegant, refined! It's an honor to help you bring her
home."

The guy just got a five star rating in my good people's book!

"Well, dear, if you like it that's fine! I still think something more
modern would have been better. When do you think you all will make it over
to where you live Barry? This thing doesn't really speed, does it?"

"No, she doesn't and we should be arriving around five thirty this
evening."

Jonathan and I kept glancing at each other, smiling. Aunt Sally fiddled in
her bag. Then she incidentally inquired, "My sister says you live in a kind
of... of Gypsy wagon."

She almost choked getting her mind wrapped around that too.

"That's right."

"There's space for you two, I suppose," she asked without really asking,
looking in the rear view mirror, putting her lipstick on.

"We'll manage."

"Well, well, well. I'm so proud of you, my little Barry! Now I've got to
get back home. I'm going to stop over in Kinston for a little visit with my
sister. Your Mom will be glad to have some fresh news at last!"

I hated how she insisted on 'at last'. With the best smile I could muster,
I wished Aunt Sally a safe trip back.

She hugged Jonathan saying, "Behave yourself!"

"Yes, Mom."

Then she spun on her heels and came back up to me muttering, "I almost
forgot. Here, take this."

She had wadded four fifty dollar bills in her hand and handed them to me
saying it's for food and stuff.

"You don't have too, Aunt Sally."

"I know I don't, but I want to, so take it."

She and my Mom, were made out of the same stuff : beautiful as movie stars,
sweet as honey and born to boss! I pitied Uncle Pete.

She climbed up into her car, slammed the door and drove off in a cloud of
dust. Jonathan sighed and just stood there breathing deeply, smiling sort
of stupid like.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yes, I am! Don't you feel that the air is lighter?"

Laughing, I said, "I see what you mean! Come on, let's go home."

----------

We said good-bye to the guys at the boatyard. Then we stashed his stuff in
the boat, all ready to cast off the lines and head up the Core Sound and
then out into the Pamlico. The weather forecast announced possibilities of
thunderstorms later on in the week, but for the time being, the sun was
with us and a fresh breeze kept the temperature from sweltering.

"We'll see if you don't call your folks to come and pick you up tomorrow or
not!" I joked, "In between time, you're going to learn how to handle this
boat as well as I do. You can start by releasing the lines."

"Aye, aye, captain!"

Away he scrambled. He drew in the lines, coiled them just right. We eased
out into the channel and went into the sound heading directly
northeast. The engine hummed its low mellow sound as we cut through water.

He was nimble as an elf. He stripped off his teeshirt and sat on the
gunwale up front, taking in the sun. What a view! This young Adonis, his
hair, wild in the wind on a backdrop of glistening water and a summer sky
almost made me come to tears with the beauty of the moment.

Jonathan yelped and then laughed, having been soused by some spray.

"I'm soaked!" he said, rummaging in his sack stashed in the bow.

"What are you looking for?"

"Sunscreen! Don't want to get burnt to death!"

"While you're at it, change shorts. If you keep them on, you'll get
chaffed."

He looked back with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"All I've got is some long jeans and I'm going commando, Barry..."

"Well, you can tan naked while we're under way. We're going to be living in
very close quarters anyhow, so no need to be puritanical, I think."

"Cool!" he exclaimed as he pulled down his cutoffs. His butt was just as
tanned as the rest.

"When I take in the sun, I like to go all the way. I skinny dip in our pool
whenever nobody's around."

He came back to me at the tiller having finished rubbing the lotion all
over. "Could you do my back, please?"

"Sure."

Turning his head around, he asked, "Can you show me how to drive Spirit?"

I liked how he called her by her name instead of just saying 'the boat'.

"Take the tiller."

He grabbed the tiller tip and laughed a little.

"I feels just like me, but it vibrates!"

"Feels like you?"

"Yeah, you know, when..." he giggled shaking his fist in front of his
crotch.

"Well, from what I see, the tiller's a bit thicker. I think you were just
doing some wishful thinking."

He threw his head back laughing!

"Pay attention, man!"

"You're right!" he replied, composing himself the best he could.

In less than a half an hour, we had gone through it all : steering,
stopping, reversing, etc. I even took a life jacket out of the cubby where
it was stashed and said, "Watch now. I'm going to throw this thing in the
water and you're going to stop the boat, tie the swimming ladder overboard,
turn the boat around and come along the windward side, right up to where
the ladder is. I'll then fish it out with the gaff hook."

"What for, Barry?"

"Imagine the fender's me and that I fell overboard. Would you let me
drown?"

"Of course not... Wow! I see. Let me think a minute and then let's do
it. Are you going to time me?"

"Good idea! Are you ready?"

"Ready!"

I tossed the jacket in the water, shouting a fake, "Help!"

Jonathan went through the process and only blundered once, coming about on
the wrong side of the fender as it drifted away. He hadn't kept in mind the
direction of the wind. The second time around, he did it correctly and we
drifted up to the jacket, just like the way we should. I fished it onboard
and we were underway again.

"How did I do, Barry?"

"I'm alive, but I could have been eaten by the sharks... It took you nearly
twenty minutes to get me in reach. Not bad for a beginner, though. I hope
you'll not have to do it for real."

"Me too!"

I went over to pull in the rope ladder when I heard, "Don't I get a hug?"

Even if he was a sassy little ass, he got to me somehow... "Ha! Sure you
do! Put the boat in neutral," I replied, opening my arms.

His bare skin was warm, a bit sweaty, smelling of sun lotion, boy and ocean
air. We relished in a great big hug, lasting a little longer than I'd
expected. His youthful cock stiffened and my baggy, old shorts bulged in
the right place -- and it was so damn nice and natural! "Where's the
problem?" I wondered.

The hours slipped by as we crossed the vast Pamlico Sound. Jonathan laid
down to take in the sun -- 'all the way' as he said. He was half-hard,
laying on his back, scratching his pubes, his other arm draped over his
eyes, at peace with the world and himself. He really did trust me! It felt
good to be trusted... real good!

 ----------

After only five and some hours of running at twelve knots, we entered the
little marina at Engelhard. Jonathan's cutoffs had dried. He put his
teeshirt back on.I refueled the twenty gallons we had burnt and decided to
go to the Big Bass Diner for an early supper. The boss lady, Hattie,
complimented me on my handsome young cousin. We ate a massive serving of
fried shrimp, cole slaw and hushpuppies and drank I don't know how many
refills of ice tea.

When we got back to the boat, I said, "Cousin Jonathan, I'm so happy! The
trip went really well! Thanks, man, for being such good company! I've been
on the job with this boat for so long now that it's hard to believe that
she's now all mine and here!" I grabbed Jonathan in a hearty man hug. He
squirmed a little.

"Sorry..."

"No problem, cousin. You can squeeze me all you want, but not too hard,
that's all!" then he added, "Barry, you make me feel so comfortable and
protected somehow. I'm so glad you took me along!"

When we got alongside my dock, I tied up. We took our stuff out and went up
to the wagon. While Jonathan called home to say we had arrived safely and
had supper, I opened the screened-in windows and door, changing the
air. Soon the evening would cool the place down.

"Did Aunt Sally get home all right?"

"Yes, and I told her I would not call everyday!"

He then looked around in silence."It's wonderful here! It's so quiet and
beautiful! I love your wagon! How did you find this place?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell it to you later. For now, let's wash up and
have a cool beer. What do you say about that?"

"I say a great big YES!"

I went out to the well pump around which I had built a little duckboard
platform about a foot off the ground. I invited him over. We stripped and
as one pumped, the other washed, even squatting to shampoo. The water was
cool, almost cold but it felt wonderful. It was fun to do that together!

"For information, if you need to pee, just go outside. When you need to do
a job sitting, there's a lidded slop-jar under the sink."

"A what?"

"A slop-jar. That's what people used before commodes."

"Awesome... The cold water did me a lot of good, Barry. I really feel
better!"

We went back in. I put some boxers on.

"Do you mind if I stay naked?"

"Not at all..." I popped open a couple of beers, gave him his and sat on
the bed.

Looking around a little bit more this time, he studied the little wood
stove to the right of the door going in, opposite the sink and the cast
iron gas burner I called my galley.

"What's that?" he asked indicating a little grill in the floor.

"It's a drain. When I sponge bathe inside, in the winter for instance, the
water runs out through it."

"Clever!" he said. He then touched the table under the widow in the center
and the two chairs.

"You have two chairs. Were you waiting for me? Ha!"

"Maybe, it's just that I didn't know it."

He checked the row of drawers on the other side and then inspected my
double bookshelf high up along both walls.

"Wow! All those books! I love to read too!"

He pulled one out, Truman Capote's 'Other Voices, Other Rooms'! "That's one
of my favorites," he exclaimed, his eyes smiling.

"How do you know about that book?"

"My junior year English teacher told me to read it. He took a special
liking to me. I never made better grades in my life."

At last he joined me in the alcove where my bed throned under the rear
window.

"You know, Barry, living in a wagon like yours is really neat! No walls, no
clutter. It's really great! Who needs more?" he said as he sat crosslegged,
sipping his beer.

"I'm glad you like it. You were so at ease in the boat... and at supper, we
got to know each other... at last. I like the way you think. It's a lot
like mine, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Yes, I don't think like my Mom, if that's what you mean! Ha! I just want
to thank you so much. Listen though, I'm sorry. I'd like to stay up more,"
he muttered as he tried to stifle a gigantic yawn, "but, Barry, it's been a
big, big day for me and I can't fight sleep any longer. I don't want to
conk out on you already, but forgive me. I can't even finish my beer," he
said, stifling another yawn, handing me his can.

"Stretch out there against the wall under the window. I don't want to have
to crawl over you, getting in bed myself. I'm going out and check on the
boat one last time."

Twilight time was setting in when I came back in, he was laying dead asleep
on his back, not even having bothered to pull up the sheet. I couldn't help
not looking at him, admiring him up and down, real slow. God was he
beautiful! I actually devoured him with my gaze. A slight smile floated on
his moist lips. His right arm was stretched out above his blond head,
exposing a wisp of honey colored pit hairs. He wasn't muscled at all. Lithe
as a fawn, especially his legs, long, thin, made for running, hairless, and
his skin was like satin gleaming a little in the dim light. The well
defined curls of his dirty blond pubes enhanced his perfect uncut penis,
elegantly resting on the top of his thigh. The pleasure I felt disturbed me
some, being so close and yet so far, exiled in my admiration. Naturally, I
was aroused. It felt good. I pulled the sheet up over him. He stirred a
little, turned on his side, towards the space wherein I was going to
slide. I stripped and joined him in bed, feeling a strange well being,
having that work of art which incidentally happened to be my first cousin,
snoozing away, in total trust. Closing my eyes and shuddering a bit. I felt
that my sovereign solitude was suddenly threatened and... It made me feel
downright happy.