"Hey sexy," my boyfriend greets me with a beaming grin as he looks up at me from the red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out under him, his back against the trunk of the elm tree where we usually sit under when we go to the park. It is an area slightly more secluded than the rest of it, where not too many children come about although we can still see and hear them from afar.

"Hey sexy yourself," I greet him back, walking to his side of the blanket.

He's changed the white tunic he was wearing this morning to a dark cerulean turtle neck which, even if he still looks very good in it, is a pity because I prefer white -- something about the color conveying an air of innocence and vulnerability on a man which I think is utterly hot and sexy.

Julian grabs my wrist and pulls me down on his lap before he opens his legs and has me seated between them, where I nestle comfortably, my back pressed against his chest.

"How was your day?" he asks, caressing my nape with his nose and waking up tingles throughout my body.

"Julian!" I chide with a giggle, leaning away from his body before he gets me hard -- my nape, shoulders and back are connected straight to the bulge between my legs. "Not here, we're gonna get caught!" We'd had sex in free, open, public places already, though never in broad daylight, especially with little kids around.

Julian pulls me back to his body laughing. "'Kay, I'll be a good boy," he promises. Then with concern in his loving voice: "How are you feeling down there, by the way? We really got carried away this morning and I know I gave it a bit rough... twice... Not feeling too tender, are you?"

"It's fine, don't worry, Jules," I tell him, tilting my head back on his shoulder and looking up at his face. "I can walk. And then, it's actually a very pleasant memory of this morning. Reminds me you're back. It tells me how much you missed me and that makes me happy. I wouldn't mind being sore this way everyday for another twelve days."

Julian beams at me and steals a soft, sweet kiss off my lips. "You'll be so sore at the end of those twelve days you'll be happy to see me go," he teases.

"Mmm, I can't wait! How about if we pack up and go back to your place, and you ravage me again?"

"Ooo, tempting!" Julian chuckles, nuzzling my nape once again. "How about if I promise to ravage you so many times tonight you'll be too sore to walk tomorrow, and we picnic here for now?"

"Stop getting me all hot and bothered, then!" I laugh as I pull away from his body a second time. I scoot down to the side a little and kick my shoes off so that I can lay down with my head on Julian's lap. He immediately places one hand on my tummy and uses the other one to comb his fingers through my hair.

"You didn't want to fuck me either this morning," I say out loud before really thinking this out. I guess it's been on my mind all day, his mixed signal getting me all confused -- why did he keep on rebuffing my advances despite his equal desire to have sex with me?

"What do you call the sex we had this morning?" my boyfriend asks me back playfully. "And what about the replay?"

The bulge in my jeans swells at the mention of those two activities -- Julian had thoroughly fucked me senseless, rendering me a complete whimpering mess, and I guess that my accusation would come off strange given this.

"Still, it took some enticement," I insist. I look up at him and meet the blue stare of his gaze as he peers back down at me.

"You're right, Xan," he admits with a sigh that makes me frown. "I didn't want to fuck you this morning -- I wanted to make love to you. I wanted to take all my time to make sweet, tender love; not pounce on you like a voracious beast and have my way with you -- but you told me you love me and all good sense and restraint went out the window; and then, I couldn't get enough of you; you were just too hot and it'd been too long!"

I can't help the very pleased smile from curling my lips. "I love you, Julian," I tell him again. "And I love the sex with you, whether you're making love to me or fucking me senseless. This morning, we both needed it frenzied after that many weeks away from each other. We can go back home and have gentle, loving sex now that we have the time to."

I'd expected Julian to agree to this yet he shakes his head no as he traces over my lips with his thumb and I frown again at my self-contradicting boyfriend. His finger leaves my lips a second later and I hear him shuffle with the picnic basket and remove containers that he uncaps before he presents me with the cream-covered butt of a deep red strawberry. It actually gives me a laugh.

"What's with the strawberries?" I ask giggling, before biting into the fruit.

"I only want today to be special," he answers simply, eating the other half of the strawberry.

"It already is," I smile, raising my hand to stroke his cheek. "You're here, on our two-year anniversary, when you weren't even expected to come back before another three days."

"Remember how we first hooked up together in the gorges of the Olgas?"

The grin that spreads across my happy face tells him I do as I fondly recall the memory.

"I want to make love to you under the stars again, tonight."

Romantic. My face beams at his idea. "Keep the strawberries for tonight, Jules," I whisper, raising my hand to his face and tracing his jawline with a finger. "Let's make this evening really special."

Julian grins back at me. "I love you," he tells me.

"I love you too, Jules, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you at the airport, before you left; I got... scared. Scared of losing you because you were leaving for so long. Sounds a bit silly now, doesn't it?" I weakly laugh at myself.

Julian peers back down into my eyes, shaking his head. "I love you despite your contradictions, Xan. Part of your charm," he adds teasingly, rubbing my tummy with his hand. "What do you want eat, now that the strawberries are off the list? I brought smoked ham, cheese, olives, cherry tomatoes, chocolate..." I hear him clap the lid back on the strawberry container and rummage around in the basket again.

"The piece of sausage between your legs, please," I mischievously ask with a twinkle gleaming in my eyes. Julian immediately stops with the basket and looks down at me.

"Piece of sausage, huh?" He raises an inquisitive eyebrow at me.

I feel my cheeks grow warm. "I'm still hanging on the idea of going back home and have you fuck me silly," I sheepishly admit.

My boyfriend laughs. "My insatiable puppy!" he teases, stroking my navel, his hand coming down close to my crotch, though not quite.

"Hey, I remember you telling me I was a tiger," I protest.

"Mmm, you're both. A puppy out of bed and a tiger during sex."

"I'd rather be a tiger all the time," I mock-pout.

"Puppy is cute," Julian argues.

It's my turn to raise an inquiring eyebrow at my boyfriend as I lift my head of his lap and lean onto my elbows. "Are you insinuating I'm 'cute'? " I demand.

"You're adorable," he laughs.

"I'm hot! " I object. "Hot and sexy. Sayz my boyfriend."

"Well, that too -- although right now, you look cute and adorable more than anything else with that vexed air of yours!"

I pretend to be offended and Julian laughs. "Smoked ham, babe?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with laughter as he retrieves a container from the basket and holds it up.

I look at it before lowering my gaze and eying his package.

"That's for later, 'Tigger'," Julian insists, his voice slightly veiled and hoarse.

I look back up into his clear blue eyes and yield, nodding my agreement, before I lay my head back down on his lap. "You owe me," I inform him.

He chuckles again, offering me a small piece of rolled ham. "I'll let you lick on it like a famished puppy later tonight."

I instantly choke on the ham upon hearing his words.

"You are so not getting any tonight!" I threaten with a laugh and tears in my eyes.

"If it's a threat, it doesn't sound very convincing from the guy who's been begging me to take him back home and fuck him silly," Julian quips.

I blush. Okay, he has me there.

"Do you trust me?" Julian then unexpectedly asks before I can think of a come back.

"Let me see," I pretend to think for a second, before my boyfriend tickles me; fortunately, he stops very quickly too: I'm very ticklish, hands down.

"Trust me on this, sweetie," he tells me, his mood changing from playful to tender in an instant as he starts combing his fingers through my hair and rubbing the warm skin of my tummy. "Tonight is going to be very, very special; but what's waiting a few hours to have sex when we've already waited six whole weeks?"

I guess he's right, huh? And yet, it's one thing to be separated and not have sex, and another to be so close and yet forbidden to touch him like I would like to.

"Alright, Jules," I agree anyway with a sigh. "We'll do anything you say."

My boyfriend grins happily at my consent. "You won't regret it," he promises.

"As long as you ravish me tonight," I tell him. "I want you to be in me all evening, and I want to fall asleep with you in me; and I want to wake with you still in me in the morning." Julian had remained embedded in me as we'd fallen asleep on a few occasions, or woken me up with a sweet, gentle fuck, and I had absolutely loved each of these times. Today being special, I want to reiterate those delicious experiences.

"We'll do that," Julian agrees. "I love waking up, being still in you, too; and if I ever slip out of you while we sleep, I'll simply have to fuck you awake," he adds, tracing my collar bone under my button-down with his fingers.

"Mmm, I can't wait for tomorrow morning," I beam.

"Me neither, Sexy -- we'll stay home and fuck all day and all night again. I wanna wear you out till you can't walk on Monday."

"Promises, promises," I quip, feeling myself get a little hard.

"I promise," Julian insists, and despite the twinkle in his eyes, I wonder if he's not actually intending to do exactly what he said. Not that I'm complaining. "Happy two-year anniversary, Xander."

I grin widely and lift my head up from his lap as he leans down over me, giving each other a sweet, loving kiss as I think back of how we met, two years ago...

* * *

"Send me a postcard when you get there."

"Right. If I remember."

"It'll look good on the fridge."

"Yep, right between Honolulu and Tanzania!"

That got me chuckling, though not for long because Josh was prompt to punch me on the arm for laughing at him.

"Stop laughing," he mock-growled before addressing Rick with a grumbled "bastard". Josh collected postcards and he seemed to have one from everywhere around the globe: he'd started collecting them as a kid, when his father, who used to travel a lot because of his job, would send him, his mother and his sister, letters from the places he visited. He'd kept them all, had gathered more, and now, hanged them up on the fridge, changing them every three or four weeks, opening in his kitchen a window looking onto the world. Honolulu's white, sandy beaches and Tanzania's yellow plains were in sight next to the a busy Moroccan street, a historical monument of Vienna and a wild landscape of pikes rising from the tree tops of a green forest in a Malaysian Nature Park.

"Has to be exciting to think that you'll soon be boarding a plane to Australia for three weeks of trekking," Rick's latest conquest, Michelle, spoke up. She was petite and pretty, her golden-bronze, wiry curls clipped to the side with an elegant pin, wearing a red silken shirt and warm, reddish-chocolate trousers; the sophisticated type. But they all were.

"That, it is!" I grinned at her, raising my glass of red wine as if in a toast. I had saved up for this trip during eleven whole months although, initially, I had planned to go three month prior to this date; work had gotten in the way, however, and Australia had had to be delayed -- a slight hitch in my plans and a few scratches on my agenda. The wait had made me all the more eager, and had actually allowed me to save more money, worth of a whole extra week in the Australian outback.

"Are you leaving any girlfriend behind you or is she coming with you?"

I didn't choke on the wine though I did kick a sniggering Josh in the shins, under the table.

"You kick hard," he protested, folding his leg and placing his foot on the chair to massage his bruised limb.

"No, Michelle," I ignored him, "There's nobody I'm leaving behind; or coming with me, for that matter."

"Oh," Michelle answered coolly. She had tilted her head to the side and was peering at Josh and me inquiringly.

"You're not thinking about leaving me for him now that you know he's available, are you?" Rick teased her, wrapping his arm around her middle from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. "'Cause I gotta tell you, he's nothing else than a devilish heartbreaker!" He winked at me, raising his glass of wine to his lips. I rolled my eyes as Josh chuckled. We all knew who the real heartbreaker was -- except for Michelle, for the obvious reasons.

"He's got the looks of it," Michelle grinned seductively at me before turning her face to the side to look at Rick. "And so do you," she added with a low, sensual, voice. Okay. So maybe she did know who the real heartbreaker was, after all.

My cell phone rang at that moment, vibrating on the table, and I automatically picked it up, seeing my brother's name appear on the screen. Excusing myself, I started towards the living room to take the call, not bothering to turn the lights on: the drapes were wide open and the moon was gleaming white in the sky and through the windows, not to mention the yellow shine of the streetlamps and the kitchen's light glowing in too.

"Hey Cole," I answered the phone.

"Hey, Xander," came my brother's voice. "How's my baby bro doing?"

I rolled my eyes at his pet name for me, one I found ridiculous coming from him as Cole was only two years older than me; but I let it go anyways as I knew that my brother would never stop calling me his baby brother only because I'd ask him to.

"Besides being impatient?" I playfully asked back instead.

"I still don't know why you feel the need to cross over the ocean to the other side of the world when you could simply go down trek in the Grand Canyon," he answered teasingly, "Especially when you're paying a fortune only to have one long, dusty walk."

"I could explain it," I protested emphatically, "But I'm afraid the time would be lost on you: I doubt you could understand the charm and the appeal of an exotic adventure in the great Australian outback, nor the beauty of exploring an ancient continent and discovering the most amazing and unusual landforms, weathered by millions of years."

There was actually a pause on the other end before my brother spoke again.

"Are you actually reading this out from a brochure?" he asked, mockingly.

I sheepishly chuckled. "I may have read those too many times," I admitted.

"Have a great time in Australia, Xander. I know you've been planning this for ages."

"Thanks Cole." My brother could be sweet when he wanted to.

"De nada, brother mio. You can thank me for the box I packed in your bag the day we came to help with Candice, nonetheless -- I knew you were gonna forget those."

"Forget what?" I asked, frowning and turning skeptical. "I have sunscreen, sunglasses and a hat, hiking boots and over two dozen pairs of socks, a fancy toiletry bag filled with anything I could possibly need -- thank Candice for me -- not to forget, a lengthy list of names and addresses from people who want me to send them a postcard; I think Max even added my boss's name onto it."

A week ago, Max, one of my work colleagues, had passed my agenda around in the department without my seeing, telling people interested in receiving a postcard from Australia to write their addresses down in my book; twenty-six of them had scribbled their names, five that were illegible and four of which I couldn't even put a face on. Max had made sure my boss's name had been very clear and readable, though.

"You think my boss'll raise my pay if I actually send him a postcard?" I asked.

Cole's response came more cryptic than expected: "Condoms," he replied.

I frowned. "Huh? What?"

"Condoms, that's what you forgot."

"Oh Christ, Cole, I'm not going there to get sex, it's not that type of tourism!"

"Always be prepared, bro, always be prepared. I packed a tube of lube too, I slipped it in Candice's toiletry bag. Can't say I don't take care of my baby bro."

"How sweet," I sarcastically thanked him. "Please let me take care of my sex life and you take care of yours."

"Which is exactly what I'm doing, bro -- how can I possibly have any sex when you're always around Candice and me?"

"Oh, fuck off, Cole," I laughed, and his laughter mixed with mine.

"Have a terrific time, Xander, you deserve it. And send in a postcard only to tell me how grateful you were for those condoms!"

I rolled my eyes. "Keep on dreaming, brother, keep on dreaming!"

I was far from imagining I'd find any use for the lube and condoms at all.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts as we are shortly arriving to Sydney's International Airport. Weather at our destination is 20° Celsius with a clear blue, spring sky overhead. Please remain seated down as the plane lands and until it has come to a full stop. We hope that you have made a good trip and thank you again for choosing South African Airways."

I woke up from my sleep, reality gradually seeping back in as I became progressively more aware of my surroundings, the voice of the airplane's Captain growing clearer, the sound of a few near seatbelts clasping, and the stewards and hostesses amiably asking passengers to buckle up. My eyes lazily fluttered open and I lingered in this state of semi-consciousness a few moments before stretching my aching muscles and straightening in my seat. I discretely rearranged the swelling bulge in my pants, covering my lap with the dark-colored jacket that had fallen from my lap down to the floor and that I had picked up.

"Welcome to Australia," my neighbor greeted me and I looked up his way. He was a man in his late thirties, warm, brown eyes, and a strong, square jaw, all good looks although not my type.

"Thanks," I croaked and rasped my voice a little.

"You're not South African," he declared.

"Why, do I look like one?" I inquired, grinning.

"I simply figured you had to be here for a student exchange, or college, perhaps," my neighbor shook his head. "American?"

I nodded. "I guess I really look that young, huh? Bartenders have only stopped checking my ID a year ago."

That made him laugh. "So, you here for business, then?" he asked.

"Nope, I'm on vacation."

"Alone?"

"Actually, I booked this trip with a travel agency. I want to visit the outback."

"An adventurer, then!" my neighbor exclaimed. "I hope you enjoy your little escapade; Australia has wonderful places worth visiting."

"I'm positive I will," I grinned widely. I could barely believe I'd finally made it to the greatest island-continent on Earth -- actually, I still had to see it to believe. It was the white, sail-roof of the Opera House appearing through the window besides the great Harbor Bridge that made me feel the reality of what was happening, and I couldn't help feeling giddy from that moment on.

Giddy when the plane smoothly landed in Sydney's International Airport.

Giddy when we got off.

Giddy when I waited for my luggage at the baggage carousel.

Giddy when I spotted a sign with the name the travel agency I'd used, and giddy when I walked to the group of people waiting besides it.

"Mr. Blain Cross?" asked me a blue-eyed woman with blond hair tied back into a high pony tail and a clipboard in her hands. One look at me told her not. "Then it has to be Alexander Siegel," she corrected herself with a wide grin.

Yep, that was me, now -- Alexander Jake Siegel. "Xander Siegel will do," I told her. "Nobody ever calls me Alexander."

"Welcome aboard, then, Xander," her pearly white teeth showed as she spoke and scribbled her clipboard. "My name is Iris McLachlan, and I will be one of your guides through the entire trip," she continued, lowering the board. "Another one of your guides is Lucas Hendricks, the tall, fair-haired man wearing a turquoise polo shirt, talking to Abi, Aaron and Neil." I easily spotted Hendricks who towered above everyone else, and the three fellow trekkers Iris had mentioned. "If you have any problems with anything, please feel free to come to any of us."

"Thanks Iris," I smiled. She was a pretty woman, athletic and yet still very feminine, with curves everywhere she needed them.

"I'm Indra Ledger," a tall brunette next to Iris presented herself.

"Xander Siegel," I answered as I shook her hand before grasping the man's who had his arm loosely wrapped around her back.

"Bill Ledger," he greeted me.

"Pleased to meet you both," I replied.

"You here alone?" Bill asked me.

"Yes, I came here single," I nodded.

"Seventy percent of the group is," Iris chipped in. "You two are part of the only three married couples on this tour."

We were about twenty people altogether and I noticed there were more males than females in ratio; considering this outback escapade was a physical one with lots of trekking involved, everyone could have been described either athletic, slim or fit, and half the men had striking, good-looking bodies, well-proportioned, a real treat for my very gay eyes.

"Yea, but Corey and Neil told me they came together," Indra objected, looking briefly around, "and so have Kelly and..." She let her sentence trail, having forgotten the name of Kelly's friend.

"Sherry, I think," Bill offered.

"Shenita," Iris was prompt to correct.

"You're good with names," I observed: she'd already named several other members of the group off the top pf her head. "How come you messed up with mine?" I teased.

Iris smiled and shook her head. "I had a chance on two of guessing correctly," she explained, "You and Blain Cross being the only two male trekkers left on the list, the last being a woman."

"So do I look like a 'Blain Cross' to you?" I asked.

She chuckled. "The name only alphabetically came first! But I have your name and face set in stone now, Mr. Xander Siegel, I won't mistake you for anyone else anymore."

"As if you ever could now," I teased with a low, sensual voice, winking at her.

She and the Ledgers only laughed, and Iris dismissed me with her hand before turning her attention to a woman coming towards us.

"Claire White?" she asked as she neared. For a split second, the woman looked surprised before she recovered and answered affirmatively. Being in her early forties with a full head of short, spiky, premature graying hair, she was easily one of the tallest people of the group with Lucas Hendricks and a few other men. Physically, she looked a lot like Indra, lean and athletic, muscles slender and wiry, barely any curves at all. Not that both women weren't attractive -- they had bodies that many females would kill for; they simply weren't as fleshy as Iris, who managed to look very, very feminine despite her fit and athletic built.

"Welcome to Australia," Iris greeted her before launching into a similar speech that she had given me, introducing Hendricks who was coincidentally looking this way. He offered us a warm, welcoming smile, nodded to Iris, and scribbled away on his clipboard after she'd indicated two more trekkers had arrived -- Claire White and myself -- which she cleverly did by presenting Claire to the Ledgers and me, pronouncing our names loud and clearly enough for Hendricks to catch them.

Blain Cross was last to come, a minute only after Claire had arrived. Iris then ushered us on to the awaiting AussieTour minibus, in which we took place, leaving all of our baggage at the end of the vehicle as Hendricks and the driver took care of placing them in the trunk while Iris checked us in again as we climbed aboard.

The seats were surprisingly, and rather pleasantly, large and comfortable; where there easily could have been four squeezed passengers, two seats on both sides of the walking aisle, were only three places per row, one separated from the two others by the aisle. The Ledgers took seat on one side while I did on the other across them, while Claire took place behind Indra who turned around to chat with her while Bill and I chatted together.

He and Indra came from New York, as we all did, although his wife was originally from Miami; they had a cute, five-year-old daughter, Chrissie, who'd they left, along with their dog, in the care of Indra's sister and her family. Bill worked as an engineer, and Indra was a stringer for the New York Times; she'd work there for five years before Chrissie had come along, and after that, she'd decided only to dig up for articles when she had the time to. Apparently, her boss had always been very cool, often coming home for dinner with them, and had always assured Indra she'd have her place back among them if she ever decided to come back.

Iris talked during the whole trip from the airport to the hotel. She gave us interesting bits and facts about the city as well as the program for the next two days, which we would spend in Sydney. Right now, we were heading to the hotel, and shortly afterwards, at half past noon, we would enjoy a meal on the last flat terrace, overlooking Sydney's Harbor Bridge. The rest of the day was at leisure; we wouldn't start sightseeing before tomorrow morning. We were all very eager to do so.

* * *

"Let's check out the terrace," I offered my roommate as I poked my head through a black and gray short-sleeved tee, feeling completely refreshed after my cold shower -- October in Australia was springtime and temperature was easily around 70° against 64° when we had left the States.

We had all already been pre-registered at the hotel, and paired up into two for a room. Iris had called the names and I had ended up with Reece Jones, a guy barely older than me, full of life and energy; he had a long, slim face and big black eyes, very light, milk chocolate skin and a thin and wiry frame similar to mine, though he did stand four inches taller than I did (but every guy did).

Reece was the comic element of the group; he cracked jokes on the bus and the whole trip from Sydney to Darwin became a long series of silly jokes and witty remarks, although none were ever mean or offensive. Reece was actually a very sweet guy, very appreciated by the women.

"Iris mentioned a bar and a view on the Harbor," I added, hoping this would tempt my roommate to come with me; but he shook his head.

"You go, buddy," he told me, "I'll take a short nap before we meet up with the rest of the gang: I didn't get any sleep on the plane and I'm totally beat!"

I guess he was one of those people who couldn't sleep on the airplane. Myself, I did okay; what bothered me were the people around me when I fell asleep: the idea of being unconscious and helpless didn't sit well with me so I'd slept lightly -- but I'd slept nonetheless.

"Okay, I'll see you later," I acquiesced, grabbing my wallet before heading towards the door.

"I hope you left me some cold water, roomie!" Reece called before I could even make it out. "God knows I hate roommates that are too self-centered to leave any cold water for other people!"

I opened the door and turned to see him winked at me. I grinned and shook my head. "Crappy joke, you really need some sleep," I teased back.

Reece laughed as I took the Do Not Disturb sign, hung it on the exterior knob, and pulled the door closed behind me.

The open terrace on the last flat was not as vast as I would have expected, yet still very large and quite charming: round, colorful, mosaic tables were scattered everywhere, some under the covered part of the terrace and others in the more sunny area, and short hedge bushes were growing in long, rectangular pots pushed against the low walls. A few other tourists were already seated at the tables enjoying a drink, and I went to the bar to get one too. I ended up with something approaching a Bloody Mary, take away the vodka, replaced by what tasted like grapefruit -- a very interesting drink I still make myself at home when I feel like something spicy.

I started towards the other side of the terrace, drink in hand, to contemplate Sydney's Opera House white sails seemingly floating next to Harbor Bridge, when I recognized one of the very handsome young men of the trip, reading a book, and I spent a few moments admiring his beautiful face instead -- the blond, curly locks falling on his forehead, the straight nose and the full, pink lips -- before I decided to walk up to his table.

"May I sit down?" I asked, placing my free hand on the chair before me and causing the man to look up.

When my gaze met his, for one long second, I actually held my breath, losing myself into the watery blue pools of his stare -- I'd never seen eyes so clear, so transparent, so compelling; and the man probably realized the effect that the irresistible color of his eyes had on me because they soon flickered with a laughing sparkle.

"Go ahead," he grinned, placing a bookmark between the pages of his book and closing it.

I blinked, hearing the smoothness of his beautiful voice, and swiftly recovered, addressing him a gracious smile as I pulled the chair to sit. Apparently, he wasn't phased about my sexual preferences nor seemed to care about the apparent attraction I'd accidentally manifested towards him. I wondered if this made him gay, or only very tolerant -- he was hot enough for me to care.

"Xander Siegel, right?" he asked. I raised an inquiring eyebrow. "I overheard Iris," he explained. "My name's Julian, by the way."

"You're not from New York, are you?" I asked him. From what I had gathered, everyone had left from there, so I'd wrongly presumed everyone had to be from there -- but Julian's cute and sexy accent sounded slightly different although I couldn't place it.

He laughed, and when he did, it sounded like a warm, fuzzy rumble. "I've lived there for seven years now, but the British accent seems hard to get rid off," he chuckled. "I grew up London -- my mother is British -- before coming back to New York."

"Back?" I asked, intrigued.

"My father is originally from New York, that's where my parents met," he explained. "We only moved to London when I was two."

"I hear London's a neat city; it's on my list of places to visit," I told him. "I actually debated on going there for college; I wanted a change of scenery and to move somewhere cool -- but there was so much paperwork and so many conditions to fill in that I gave up."

"They do make it hard for foreigners outside from the Commonwealth to get into British colleges," Julian agreed. "So where did you go to college to, finally?"

"New Haven," I replied, sipping on my drink.

"That doesn't sound very far from home -- I thought you were looking for a change of scenery," he teased. "What was so special about New Haven?"

"Nothing, really. Only Yale University. Dad sorta insisted I go there."

Julian raised an inquiring eyebrow at me. "I love the way you're so casual about having gone to Yale as if it were any other university."

I chuckled. "I won't complain, I got good education; but if Dad hadn't been insisting, and if England didn't have all those conditions to fill in, I'd rather have gone to London, or Oxford... maybe Paris -- Paris is also on my list of places to visit."

Julian grinned at me. "I see you like to travel," he observed, reaching for his drink.

"I think it's cool to visit places," I nodded, "Discovering new things, new people, new cultures; I'd been dreaming about Australia for a while and I'm thrilled to be here!"

"I hear you -- Australia is really one of the places I wanted to visit; Japan is another one."

"Vietnam," I chipped in. "I hear it's beautiful."

"I'd love to visit Florence, for its architecture; or Vienna perhaps."

"Vienna in wintertime," I mused. "That has to be lovely."

"Pretty sweet," Julian agreed. "Greece has to be amazing with all its ruins, too."

"We went there for vacation when I was fourteen; it's impressive. I definitely recommend visiting Greece."

"Do you know the Syrian Desert still holds vestiges of ancient Greek ruins? I'd love to make a trip through the desert to see those."

"I'll pass on that one," I replied. "Morocco and Tunisia seem a lot more appealing places to make a desert trip..."

Julian chuckled. "North Africa would be cool to visit, too," he acquiesced. "So tell me," he went on after a brief pause, changing topics, "What did you major in at Uni? I'm itching with curiosity." He flashed me a wide grin of pearly white teeth.

I actually took a second to answer, leaning back in my seat before evenly responding: "Astrogeology; with two minors, in Chemistry and Biochemistry."

Julian raised an eyebrow, looking very impressed, and I knew I'd reached my aim, right on target. He swiftly recovered nonetheless.

"You got yourself into a pretty cool branch of geology!" he exclaimed in a voice mingled with respect. "So what did you specialize in? Selenology, areology?"

He really got me there, and this time it was me who raised an amazed eyebrow. Selenology and areology were respectively the geologic studies of the moon and of Mars... not that many people knew it.

"Areology...," I responded, tilting my head to the side and regarding him with pure curiosity.

Julian actually laughed. "I'm actually a geologist, too," he revealed a moment later, and startling me with his own piece of news -- what were the odds of meeting another geologist on this trip? "Except that I work in a field that I'd describe as being a lot more... 'down-to-earth'," he added teasingly. I rolled my eyes and laughed.

We laughed, jested, and rolled eyes a lot that day. We really clicked, with Julian, right from the beginning: we teased each other plenty, ceaselessly competing with witty words and sharp repartees, shared excessively many viewpoints and argued good-naturedly on those that we didn't; having discovered that we were both geologists was only the cherry on top of everything else that we appeared to have in common. Moreover, Julian was beginning to repeatedly and positively beep on my gaydar: the looks he'd throw me, the sparkle gleaming in his striking, clear blue eyes, the pearly white smiles that all had me confused -- wondering, hoping, dreaming -- though none of them seemed clear or explicit enough for me to be confident that they were all real: was the glimmer flickering in his eyes, the extra second his gaze lingered on me when he'd catch my eye while he was busy talking to other people over lunch or elsewhere, only the fruit of my overly keen imagination?

By the end of the first day, all I really knew was that I had grown even more attracted to Julian, the man with the incredibly clear blue eyes whom I couldn't seem to resist every time his gaze locked into mine.

* * *

"Here it is," Reece indicate with a nod towards the place.

The Ozzio. That's what the elegant black and silver letters read above the entrance. We'd come an hour before the place really started packing to avoid the throng of people and the long wait outside, lined against the wall. A few of us -- Julian, Reece, Kelly, Shenita, the Ledgers and I -- had resolved to discover what Sydney by night had to offer, and from what we'd been told, the Ozzio, a recently opened nightclub, was all the rage and definitely the place to be seen at, lately... gay or not.

Because, I forget to say -- the Ozzio, besides being the coolest place to be, was also a gay club.

"Oh, the crowd's actually pretty mixed," had insisted the hotel's receptionist, a young, Asian-looking woman.

Reece had processed the words for three long seconds before he'd given Shenita, his head tilted to the side, a meaningful sideways gaze from under his eyelashes, using a soft, sexy voice to ask if she'd be -- I quote -- his warrior princess for tonight and fight off all the gay men from his irresistible body.

"In your dreams, dude," had swiftly replied Kelly, wrapping her arm around Shenita and exaggeratingly rolling her eyes. "Who's gonna protect me and my irresistible body from all the gay women then?"

Even Reece had laughed at the mock echo of his words Kelly had teased him with; and as nobody had really seemed bothered to get into a gay nightclub, we'd settled for the Ozzio, only a fifteen-minute walk away from the hotel.

We got in fairly rapidly and found a table in ten minutes, one not located too far away from the bar; a rather good location in my book to getting drinks easily. I started with a light one and took a moment to scan the dance floor as I sipped on my alcoholic beverage; two lesbians had caught my eye, moving closely against each other, hands lavishly roaming on the other's body, and I watched them danced, entranced by the sexual beauty they were displaying. I have always found that any two gorgeous women (albeit, gorgeous in my eyes and dictionary, which doubtlessly differed from the ones of straight men's) being together were hot to look at. I'd often wondered, too, if that made me slightly bisexual with a major attraction to men, or hopelessly gay, in the large sense of term equally applied to women. I'd sprung the beginning of a boner on a few occasions when seeing two lesbians getting physical, as I normally do watching any two gay guys.

Not wishing to embarrass myself with a tent in my pants, nonetheless, I looked away from the women and I found Julian's intent blue eyes gazing at me. I couldn't read their expression; yet as soon as I cracked a smile his way, raising my glass up as if to toast him, Julian grinned back and the azure pools of his beautiful gaze sparkled again. He broke away after a moment, though, and watched the dance floor.

"These two look hot!" I heard Reece exclaim next to me, doubtlessly referring to the lesbians. I glanced at Kelly and Shenita who rolled their eyes; Indra's laugh mixed with mine and Bill's lips impishly curled at the corners, as did Julian's who, eyes on me again, beeped again on my gaydar. I returned his beautiful, yet cryptic, toothy grin and, placing my drink on the table, I stood:

"Anybody else wanna go dance?"

"I do," came Indra's swift reply as she took a last swig from her glass and scooted down on Reece's side who move to let her squeeze out from the table.

To my great amazement, despite the Ozzio being a gay club, nobody made a move to grope me that night, and that was a very refreshing change from the usual experience of gay clubs I had. A few men did get close to me, and a cute one in particular, a sweet-looking guy with dark hair and eyes (from what I could tell in the dim lights anyway), yet none of them persevered too long when I moved away from them. Except for the cute guy -- although that may have been because I had been the one to get closer to him. Accidentally, for the record -- I was backing away from another man who'd gotten too close to my taste when I bumped into Mr. Cutie's side. I turned to see whom I'd hit and to apologize, and fell straight away for the dimple in his right cheek when he looked down at me and threw me a pearly grin. We never really moved away from the other then, and danced together for a good forty-five minutes before he vanished away from sight into the mass of dancing people. I left the dance floor myself after another five minutes, out of breath and thirsty, and returned to the table.

"Hey," I breathed, regaining my seat. Besides me, in Reece's place, was Julian, chatting with Bill. His hair looked a little tousled, his damp locks sticking closer to his head. He still looked deliciously hot nonetheless.

"Kelly finished your drink," he said, sliding his nearly empty glass to me.

"Did she?" I asked, picking up the glass. "Thanks. What is it?"

"Only water."

I raised a surprised eyebrow and drank away the refreshing liquid.

"Reece looks like he's having a good time," Bill grinned.

Placing the empty glass down, I scanned the dance floor. Facing Kelly and with Shenita in his back, Reece was dancing, leaning back and forth between the both of them, turning to face the other woman every now and then.

"The dog!" I laughed. Then looking for Bill's wife, "Where's Indra?" I asked. "I can't see her..."

"Over there," Bill replied, pointing to her.

"Okay," I said when I saw her, dancing away to the furious beat of the playing song. "Hey, I'm still thirsty, I'm gonna get myself a drink; can I get you guys anything?"

Bill asked for a margarita while Julian went for another cocktail. I went to the bar and told one of the tending barmen what I wanted and waited for him to serve me.

"I'll get those," a male voice intervened out of the blue when I was about to pay for the drinks.

I glanced his way and smirked. "I'm straight," I cheekily replied -- the receptionist had insisted on the crowd being mixed, hadn't she? "Although you're welcome to pay for them if you really want to," I added audaciously.

With fair hair, a strong jaw covered with light stubbles, and pink luscious lips, the man was handsome in a rough sort of way, except for the air of conceitedness that he seemed to be wrapped in. When he grinned at me, his eye lit up with a predatory twinkle gleaming in his brown chocolate pools.

"You looked rather gay to me when you were on the dance floor, dancing with another man," he answered complacently, placing money down on the bar and paying for the drinks.

I let the barman take his money -- I mean, if he insisted on paying -- and, amused with the game, I decided to change tactics: "My boyfriend's jealous," I shamelessly declared.

He laughed. "Is he?" he asked. "Your boyfriend... and who would that be?"

"Me!" a voice exclaimed as I felt an arm wrap around me. I tensed for a second and looked back, ready to tell the guy to remove his paws off me -- I hate being cuddled against my will by people I don't even know -- and got caught completely off guard as the cute guy from the dance floor flashed a pearly white grin at me and made me melt with his single dimple.

I relaxed and turned back to the other man, smirk still on my lips: "Thank you for the drinks, by the way."

Amused, he eyed my 'boyfriend' a long moment. "You're welcome," he responded at last, his eyes back on me, and he watched me for a moment before he came down his stool. "I hope to see you again," he said, toasting me with his drink. And then he was gone.

I twisted around in my 'boyfriend' 's now looser embrace and bit my lower lip, finding myself only a few inches away from his face. "I'm straight."

He laughed at me. "Yes, I believe that," he chuckled, gazing into my eyes. "You said you had a boyfriend too."

I had, hadn't I? "And he's still very jealous," I added.

"I'm not." He leaned into me and delicately nuzzled the side of my neck. "You have a cute accent," he breathed against me. I laughed and pushed his chest away before he got me hard, caressing my neck that way -- that always does.

"I'm leaving the day after tomorrow," I said, "and I'm not interested in being a notch on anyone's bedpost."

"That's too bad," he relented with a smile, peering deep into my eyes. "You wouldn't have been one, though; you're too beautiful for that."

I rolled my eyes.

"Help me," I asked, twisting in his embrace again, to get the drinks I'd ordered. I felt him press his body against my back to pick up the last one, before he released me and followed me.

"Here's you guys' poisons," I told the men when we reached the table, placing their glasses each before them. "And here's my personal slave," I added, hand on my helper's arm; he coughed on his drink hearing my words while Julian and Bill quietly snickered. "I actually forgot your name," I threw in mock-whisper.

"That's 'cause you never asked," he answered, patting his mouth dry with a paper napkin. "You look cute when you blush," he added when I felt my cheeks grow hot. Then at the guys: "I'm Chris."

"I bet that sort of detail didn't seem very significant or even useful when he requested your help," Julian chuckled, addressing me a teasing wink. "My name's Julian," he went on, "and this is Bill."

Bill, playing with his drink and swirling the alcohol in his glass, addressed him a "How'd'you do" with a small wave of the hand.

"I guess it didn't," Chris agreed with Julian as we sat down. He gave my sensitive and ticklish side a little pinch and, startled, I hopped away from my aggressor with a yelp and pressed into Julian's body who wrapped an arm around me to hold me steady. Everyone laughed at me as Chris regarded me, amused. "Ticklish, huh?" he asked. I covered my embarrassed smile with a hand.

We went on chatting, mostly about Sydney and Australia, especially when the women who weren't into sports and politics came back to the table. Chris hadn't traveled in the outback much yet he had some family in Adelaide and insisted we would love this charming city nestled between the sea and the hills.

"It's a very pretty city, easy to walk around and admire the elegant architecture," he explained. "Plus, it's one of the center places for arts and culture, and they have a large fork of wines coming from the Valley combined to an excellent cuisine that makes it a tourist city."

We all got very eager to visit Adelaide, and more so because we were to fly to the city in two, three days, with a special stop in the Barossa Valley to sample local wines. I made a mental note to myself to buy a few bottles to bring back home with me as pleasant gifts for friends and family.

We left the Ozzio pretty late, and mostly because we were expected at half past seven for breakfast and that the women wanted to get back the hotel. The air outside the club was warm, yet it still felt fresher than inside. It woke up Kelly a little who looked a little less sleepy.

"Our hotel's this way," I told Chris as the gang started towards the way back.

"My flat's that way," he answered, pointing in opposite direction. He gazed into my eyes a second and stepped closer. "Can I... can I invite you for a coffee?" he asked, hesitant.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep if I drank coffee," I answered. "And I'm feeling rather sleepy," I added before he could offer me anything else than coffee. Chris was sweet, but I'd never been into one-night stands.

"Okay," he relented with a smile. "Email me when you get back home; I'd love to hear from you."

"I will."

Chris nodded then looked at the rest of the gang: "Take care everyone." He flashed them a grin and they waved back before we parted.

"I don't think he really invited you for coffee only," Reece declared when we crossed the street, eliciting a few giggles, from the women especially.

"I'd have to agree," I admitted. "Anyone's interested in coffee by the way? I spotted a coffee shop not too far from the hotel."

At that, everyone openly laughed at me.

"Weren't you feeling too sleepy for coffee not even a moment ago?" quipped Julian.

"Actually, I want some hot chocolate," I replied.

"Chris would have loved to offer you some," Reece teased, stressing on the 'L' word. Bastard. I childishly stuck out my tongue at him.

"I'm game for that hot chocolate," Julian declared.

"Anybody else?" I asked.

"Too sleepy here," Bill replied, his fingers playing with his wife's short hair. She had placed her head on his shoulder and had her eyes half-closed. "Mmm hmm," was all she bothered to respond.

"We're off to bed, too," Shenita answered for Kelly and herself.

"Too exhausted here too," came Reece's response. I guess it would be Julian and me only. Not that I minded.

* * *

The coffee shop was a trendy little place, a maze of warm chocolate-colored couches arranged low tables and the strong, soothing scent of coffee lingering in the air. We chose a table on the far end, away from the few other people present in the coffee shop, and made ourselves comfortable.

"Here," said Julian, handing me the coffee and hot chocolate menu that he'd picked from table. I thanked him and swiftly skimmed through it to the hot chocolate section. They had seven different cocoas, including 'traditional', 'chilled' -- with a scoop of ice cream -- and 'bitter sweet'.

"I think I'll have a 'con leche' hot chocolate," I said after a moment. "I don't really want anything too sweet."

"I don't feel like anything sweet either," Julian agreed as he placed back his menu on the table. "Myself, I'll have an espresso. Wait here, I'll go order."

I folded my arm on top of the couch and rested my head on it, watching Julian as he went to order his coffee and my hot chocolate. He came back a moment later, and cast me a pearly white grin as he sat down beside me again.

"You look all sleepy," he said, his magnificent blue eyes gleaming laughingly as he sat back down on the couch.

I grinned and peered into those beautiful water eyes. I'd never seen a gaze as hypnotic, as magnetic as his. "And you look handsome," I answered, emboldened with the alcoholic drinks I'd had at the nightclub.

He raised an inquiring eyebrow at me and I chuckled before dropping my eyes down. I let them travel up the dark denim material of his jeans to the very fleshy package of crotch. My gaze lingered there a few seconds, observing the curve of the zipper and the way Julian filled his basket so well, before peering back up into his eyes. They were on me, those two transparent pools, watching me intently. They seemed to be waiting, waiting to see what I would do next. That's when I decided to try on a daring move: with a twinkle in the eye and a playful grin on my lips, I raised my head from arm and turned around, my back to him, then lay back down, resting my head on his inviting lap. I could feel his muscles, both hard and soft, the warmth of his skin radiating through the material of his jeans. I looked up into his eyes and saw him gazing back, amusement clearly sparkling in gleaming blue pools. I'd have let my whole being lose itself in them if the waiter hadn't broken the moment, bringing our mugs to our table. He eyed me warily and I stared back at him innocently. I felt Julian's hand come on my chest as he thanked the man who averted his gaze from me to look at him and answered with a nonchalant "You're welcome" before leaving and going back to his counter.

"You are gay," I asked Julian when his gaze returned to me. I needed to check before I let myself fall completely in lust with him. "...aren't you?" I added somewhat hesitantly.

He actually laughed before he nodded his head 'yes'. "Rather gay, yes," he answered, tracing the bridge of my nose with a finger. "Do you know of many hetero men who'd let another man rest their head on their lap?"

I bit my lips and giggled. "Not really, no; my gaydar couldn't seem to figure you out, though," I replied.

"I'm gay," Julian repeated, peering deeply into my chocolate eyes. "And you are... bisexual?" he asked after a pause.

"You're thinking of the two lesbians on the dance floor at the Ozzio, aren't you?"

He nodded, reaching over me for his coffee. "You seemed rather... fascinated," he said.

"They were hot," I agreed. "I would never be able to sex with a woman, nonetheless... I prefer men," I added, tracing loopy patterns on his lap with a feathery finger as emphasis, to prove my point.

Julian offered me a toothy smile. "Tell me more about yourself, Xander," he asked, his fingers coming on my head and playing with my hair. "Tell me what you like."

"Chocolate, for starters," I answered before I rolled over to reach for my hot cocoa 'con leche'. I took a sip then lay back down comfortable again and set the mug on my chest, enjoying its warmth on me. "I'm an addict," I went on. "I would kill for chocolate. I love clothes and I love to shop, even if I rarely follow the trends. I love grey and blue, too. Most of my clothes are these colors." I peered down for a second at the grey long-sleeved shirt I was wearing. "Grey fits with everything anyway," I added. Julian blue eyes twinkled as he laughed.

"I enjoy cooking," he told me. "I started when I got to college; I was missing my mom's cooking and already-made frozen dishes food tasted bland, compared. I had a studio, not a dorm room, so I could actually prepare my own food. I bought a recipe book and discovered it could be fairly easy and that I was good at cooking. Even today, I rarely ever buy ready-made, frozen dishes or canned food; I have a few boxes I keep just in case I really can't find any time to cook, although that is pretty exceptional."

"I can't cook," I told him as he paused to have a sip of his coffee. "I remember my mother grounding me at fourteen because I'd burned spaghetti."

"You got grounded for burning spaghetti?" Julian laughed. "How did you manage that anyway?"

"I left the top ends against the edge of the saucepan, out of the water; forgot to set the timer; then busied myself with a mag' instead of watching over the spaghetti. Mom grounded me more for my stupidity than anything else," I ended with a chuckle before craning my neck up to have a sip of my cocoa. I placed the mug back on the table afterwards.

"Pork chops were the first thing I cooked. I managed okay. With the rice dishes, I cheated, though," he told me with a twinkle in his eyes. "I had a rice cooker. I still use it -- I can throw the rice in and do something else, it'll never burn."

I smiled as he went on. Julian really seemed to be into cooking. He enjoyed photography too, and always had his digital camera with him; as proof, he took it out of the bag he'd brought with him and took a photo of me on his lap. He told me had tons of photos on his computer, and that every now and then, he'd print a series out and scrapbook. He never created any too sophisticated layouts, though; what he preferred was to lay the emphasis on the photo, not the frame.

We would have probably remained in the coffee shop forever, telling each other about ourselves, our lives, if the waiter hadn't warned the few customers left in the place that he would soon be closing; we were so comfortable together I wished the night would have never finished. I reluctantly forced myself to sit up, nonetheless.

"How much do I owe you for the cocoa?" I asked Julian, glancing at the mug I had left on the table.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

I frowned. "I've barely touched it, I'm not going to let you pay for it."

Before I could move away from his body, though, Julian snaked his arm around my waist and stopped me; I watched from the corner of my eye as he leaned into me, bending forward to reach for my mug, and felt the heat of his body as his chest pressed ever so slightly against my back. He straightened, keeping me close to him, and drank the rest of my now-tepid chocolate, sip by sip.

"There," he said once he had finished, licking his lips and placing the mug back on the table, "I've had more than you, now; I think we can agree that it was mine and that I only let you have a taste of it."

I couldn't help the way my lips impishly curled. I twisted in his embrace and gazed at his gorgeous face. With the briefest hesitation, I leaned into him and placed the sweetest and softest kiss I could muster on his lips before pulling back and peering into his beautiful, sparkling blue eyes. He looked back at me completely bewildered.

I bit my lower lip. "You had... a drop of chocolate left...," I fibbed.

Julian raised an inquiring eyebrow at me. "Chocolate?" he repeated dubiously.

"Mm hmm," I audaciously nodded. "Chocolate. And you were only letting me have another taste."

Julian shook his head and laughed. "You're cute, Xander Siegel," he chuckled. I only gazed back into his mesmerizing eyes, saying nothing, a grin still curling the corners of my lips. He really had a gorgeous gaze, the color so transparent and the glimmering sparkle ever-present that made his eyes hard to look away from. I actually barely noticed he was peering back into my eyes before he lowered his gaze on my lips and leaned closer for a kiss.

"It's getting late," I spoke softly, his lips merely an inch away from mine.

Julian's eyes came up and I felt myself drowning into their clear water color, they were so close.

"Is it?" he murmured still leaning closer into me, his lips softly grazing mine before he they moved down to trace the bone of my jaw and the side of my neck, making me involuntarily quiver.

"Yes," I croaked, moving away from him, feeling myself losing control as my body began to spring a boner.

He laughed, letting me break away from his embrace. "You're cute," he repeated, his blue eyes glimmering as he looked at me with a goofy grin.

I shook my head dismissively: cute was for puppies.

"You ready to go back?" Julian asked, nodding towards the door of the coffee shop.

I mechanically glanced at the exit and stared long seconds at the door. Me? Ready to leave?

Nnnooooooo, I don't think so. Not with the swell in my pants that still hadn't cooled down. I looked back at Julian who was gazing at me with his compelling stare. He raised an eyebrow at me and I croaked again for means of answer.

Julian's lips curled and he grinned wickedly at me as he leaned in; for a brief instant, I thought he wanted to kiss me, but I felt his cheek graze mine and his breath tickle my ear: "Come on," he whispered mischievously, "I'm positive nobody will notice the swell in your jeans."

My eyes widened and I stammered nonsense as Julian pulled back to see my reaction and laugh. My cheeks flushed red as I blushed profusely, now refusing to meet his clear blue eyes.

I started when he kissed my cheek and barely caught myself when he seized my hand and pulled me to my feet: "Come on!" he exclaimed, his face beaming, as he hastily dragged me between the tables.

"You're crazy," I laughed, hot on his trail, coming close to tripping twice.

We came out into the streets in seconds and there, he had me whirl around, facing him. I giggled, completely light-headed. Things were beginning to feel surreal. Julian was gazing down at my face with intensity, his eyes peering deep into mine. I could feel his body heat again, even though, physically, we weren't as close as we had been in the coffee shop.

"And you're absolutely fucking gorgeous under the moonlight," he breathed, grabbing my hips and forcing me on my toes as he stepped closer and leaned down, placing his lips squarely over mine. I was startled by the sweetness and the sensuality of his kiss compared to the strength he had used to raise me up; there was actually nothing of aggressive or forceful to the tender caress of his lips, smooth and gentle on my own. He didn't even seek entry with his tongue; and when he ended the kiss, he did it leisurely, his mouth still grazing mine before he pulled back completely. Even then, I could still fill the ghost tingle of it tickling my lips.

I opened my eyes and drowned myself in the clear blue pools of his gaze staring down at me.

"Chocolate," Julian sweetly whispered. I looked up at him, confused.

"Only getting a taste of chocolate," he explained. "You had... a drop left... at the corner of your mouth." His eyes were gleaming playfully.

My lips curled and I grinned back, laughing quietly. "Let's go," I prompted and Julian gently released the grip on my hips that held me so close to him. We walked back to the hotel, only a few blocks away from the coffee shop, a peaceful silence setting between us. I could feel his gaze upon me, and every time I'd glance at him, his eyes were on me. Our fingers brushed every so often.

When we took the elevator up to our rooms, I thought he would kiss me again. I had my back leaning on the wall of the lift, and when Julian took a step closer to me, I couldn't back anywhere. He never broke his gaze away from mine, snaking his hand behind my back as I sucked in a breath; but he didn't exactly wrap it around me. A long second afterwards, he was slipping it away, making sure his hand had entirely brushed my side.

"You hadn't pressed the button," he said.

I looked at him in disbelief. "Is that your excuse to feel me up?" I asked.

Julian chuckled. "You really hadn't pressed it properly."

"I did!" I protested. I'd pressed it properly.

Julian laughed.

"I really did," I insisted as the doors of the elevator opened.

"Not," Julian teased as he came out of the elevator with me. He walked me up to my room. I found that sweet.

"Good night, Xander," he breathed, caressing my cheek with the back of his knuckles. I stared into his eyes and leaned close to him, raising myself on tip toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Good night, Jules."

* * *

That's how things began, between Julian and me. Over the next week, we flirted a lot and stole kisses from the each other when we less expected it. Julian especially, was good with this: he'd sneak up on me whenever he could and kiss me. One of the sweetest ones was when he was helping me decipher the five scribbled names on my lengthy list of people who wanted to be sent a postcard. We were doing that on the hotel bed, that second day, I sitting Indian style between his legs.

"What d'you reckon this letter is?" I asked him, looking at another scribble-scrabble. "An 'A' or an 'O'?"

Hovering over me, Julian took a second before answering. His breath on my nape, creating sweet little tingles rippling all the way down to nether areas of my anatomy, and I was having a hard time concentrating.

"I think it's an 'A'," he said, tracing the letter on my nape with the silky tip of his finger. I sharply breathed in and bit my lower lip as my organ began to swell in my pants. "A... D... R...," he went on, still tracing the letters on me with extreme gentleness. He knew what he was doing to me -- he had become aware of the effects the faintest caress on my back, nape and ears had the first evening and ever since, he'd repeatedly attempted to get me visibly hard that way.

"I... A... N...," he finished, his hand sliding down to my side and beneath my tee, pressing me closer to his chest as his other began tracing loopy patterns on my leg. With his lips, he started grazing my nape and then kissed his way up to my jaw till he came to the corner of my mouth. He placed soft pecks on the curl of my smile till he was squarely over my mouth and sweetly slipped his tongue in for a brief moment. He won two points for that kiss.

Because, we were counting points. One for each stolen kiss. I lost, twenty-five to twenty-nine.

He was kissing me when Reece came into the room. He opened the door, froze upon seeing us, croaked something about coming back later, and promptly closed the door shut again. That sent Jules and me into a fit of giggles. He pecked my lips again when the laughter recessed and we went back to the postcards.

Sex didn't come till another twelve days. I think we were building on the thrills of anticipation, playing and teasing each other with the many kisses, the looks, the touches and as these grew crescendo, sex became a very apparent and inevitable outcome.

A night walk in the beautiful gorges of the Olgas sealed our fate. Julian asked me if I cared to visit the gorges again and watch the sky between the rocks; his hot breath tickled as he whispered at my ear. He had his arms wrapped around me and his chest pressed against my back. I twisted in his embrace and peered into his eyes. They were a darker shade of blue under the moon. I told him I'd fetch a jacket. He said he'd get a blanket to lie down on to stargaze -- a sweet idea that had me deciding to pocket the lube and condoms my brother had slipped in my bag when I went to get my jacket.

"It's a beautiful starry sky, isn't it?" Julian asked when I got back. Folded under his arm was his black sleeping bag, as means of blanket.

"It is," I replied with a smile as we made our way to the gorges, "And so different from the one we see back home!"

"Can you recognize any constellations?" he asked, tilting his head back to see the white diamonds on dark cloak of the night.

I imitated him and contemplated the Southern sky. "A few, perhaps...," I answered. "I can't see the Southern Cross, though. I don't think we can this time of year."

We stopped not too far from the exit of the gorge we had entered, yet deep enough not to be seen or bothered by the other trekkers. We found a good spot, neither too rocky nor too bumpy, and spread Julian's sleeping bag before we got our shoes off and stretched down on this improvised blanket, leaning back on our elbows.

"I see a meteor," I said after a while during which we had both been silent.

"A shooting star?" Julian repeated. "Where?"

I scooted over close to him, pressing my body against his and leaning my face near his, and pointed at the sky. "There," I breathed in his ear. "If you look closely, you'll see a small, shiny dot moving between the stars..."

Julian stared at the part of the sky I had directed my finger at.

"Do you see it?" I asked softly, gazing at his beautiful profile that the silver light of the moon gleamed upon.

He took a moment before answering. "I think... I do...," he slowly said. "A small white dot gliding across the sky, right? No tail, not anything...?"

"Yes," I smiled. "'No tail, not anything'." Comets had tails, not meteors.

He turned his handsome face towards me and our noses lightly bumped. Peering into my eyes with the dark blue pools of his twinkling gaze, Julian sweetly began to nuzzle the bridge of my nose in a very gentle Eskimo kiss, before placing a long and gentle peck on the tip. I grinned and tilted my head, moving my lips on his and grazing them tenderly as I snaked a hand under the soft, close-fitting cotton sweatshirt he was wearing and caressed the hard muscles of his taut stomach.

The feel of his hot, smooth skin was electric under my roaming hand, his nipples hard and erect under my fingers; Julian actually became slightly more aggressive when I began to play with them and he wrapped a possessive arm around me, across my back, pressing me tightly against his chest and trapping the whole length of my forearm between our bodies. He deepened the kiss, too, his tongue seeking entry, and it sensually danced with mine as he rolled me on my back, settling between my legs and setting a good part his weight on me.

After long seconds of fiery kissing, though, his lips descended down my jaw, leaving a trail of soft, wet kisses, and he pushed my jacket back to expose the tender skin of my neck; I helped him slip the rest of the jacket off as he continued to lick and nibble, detaching his lips from me only to roll the warm crewneck I was wearing off me in one, swift, single move. I quivered as soon as the fresh air of the night hit my skin and pressed my trembling body against his, seizing the hem of his sweater and bundling it up his sides, my hands roaming all over his back.

"Let me feel you too," I breathed in his ear, needing to feel the heat of his smooth skin against mine.

Julian obliged and raised his chest off my body, rolling the sweatshirt off as swiftly as he'd removed my crewneck, before he pressed himself back on me. He latched onto my right nipple, teasing the nub with his wet tongue, and I sighed with delight, combing his hair with my fingers. He was caressing my sides and shortly came to the hem of my jeans which he smoothly unbuttoned and began to pull down; he managed pretty well, all the while chewing on my flat belly, till he came to the crook of my knees and the jeans bundled there. So raising my legs, he licked and kissed his way down to them, nibbling on the thin, sensitive skin as he peeled off the pants.

My tool was tenting the semi-stretchy material of my boxer-briefs and a dark, wet spot had formed on them where my member was leaking. Julian traced the spot, caressing the tip of my aching organ, his warm, wet touch like ecstasy, and I bit my lips, moaning with pure delight. He teased me that way for several moments before he lowered his head and breathed on my crotch, his breath feeling hot even through the material. I felt myself breathe in deeply, and then even whimpered when the wet caress of his tongue lapped my swelling bulge, and I splayed my legs wide open as he proceeded to lick my tool through the material till my boxer-briefs were completely soaked, my hard shaft stretching painfully against the band of the briefs.

"I'm getting close," I managed to croak as a warning between two electrifying licks, and groaned as my sac tightened close to my body.

Julian gave a last sweet lap on the trapped head of my tumescent member before he hooked his fingers on the sides of my boxer-briefs and pulled them off my legs. He came back up afterwards, lay on his side, pressed against me, and squarely placed his lips on mine, kissing me lightly, in a relaxed sort of way that resembled the kiss he'd given me that night in Sydney, out of the coffee shop, as a lazy hand roamed on my chest. Julian seemed prone to these changes, turning from aggressive to sweet, mild and gentle in barely any seconds.

When he tore his lips from mine, at last, and grazed them smoothly on my mouth, he cast he brief glance towards my crotch, his fingers tracing loopy patterns on the smooth, taught skin above my black and neatly trimmed pubic hair. For a brief second, I impulsively tensed in his arms, a feeling of insecurity washing over me: just as the rest of my body looked, my tool was slender and slighter than average -- not overly so, yet the fact had always embarrassed me. Julian, nonetheless, being the receptive lover that he is, looked back at me with his beautiful blue eyes that gleamed with awe:

"Is it a piercing I see on the big guy?" he asked. Big guy. He really knew how to soothe an ego. I visibly relaxed as he gazed back down and hesitatingly drew his hand down from my smooth belly closer to my shaft which he delicately seized and pulled back to better examine the piercing.

Consisting of two beads on the ends of a silver stick poked through the smooth, elastic skin of my tool, the piercing had been last Christmas's present to myself. I'd been contemplating the idea of getting pierced for ages, yet had never gotten the guts to till the year before; and then, till my ex had deflowered me, I hadn't been very fond of the idea of a complete stranger getting to fondle my tool, even in a non-sexual way.

"Will it... will it hurt, if I... touch you?"

I peered into Julian's dark blue eyes, filled with concern. "It will if you're rough," I explained. "You've got to be gentle. Actually, it feels incredibly good and intense when it's delicately played with."

Julian nodded, timidly bringing his fingers closer the piercing and grazing a feathery finger over the beads. I hissed a breath, closing my eyes, and tilted my head backwards. "Yes, that's the way," I breathed, splaying my legs wide open and raising my pelvis bone up.

Julian continued to fondle me carefully and moved his head down to place sweet kisses on my chest, descending till he was over the head of my drooling member and pecked it, eliciting a whimper from me. I felt him shift around me and then his lips were on my sac, engulfing my testis in his deliciously warm, wet mouth. I clawed at the blanket, the sensations so overwhelmingly hot.

"I want you in me, Julian," I managed to moan, my back impossibly arched up. "I want to feel you in me," I repeated. I could feel my whole being twitch at the idea. I wanted it, desperately.

Julian, conversely, remained quiet as he let my sac slip from his lips and stilled his fingers. Feeling abruptly wrong, I opened my eyes and looked at Julian between my open legs.

"You don't... want to?" I asked, hesitant. Here I was, feeling rather helpless on my back, legs spread wide open, with my organ and balls laid before him and my pucker completely exposed to him -- and he had no desire to fuck me.

Julian crawled back up to me and kissed my quivering lower lip, slipping his tongue into my mouth. Another sweet, gentle kiss meant to sooth and allay some of my fears away.

"Believe me when I say I really do," he answered against my lips, taking hold of my wrist and bringing my hand down between our bodies to caress his turgid tool through the material of his own boxer-briefs. Apparently, he had unzipped his jeans at one point. "I'm actually afraid you may be the one who won't want to," he went on before he kissed me again.

To be honest, feeling how his shaft had thickly swelled did raise a few fears in me -- I could feel his organ, massive, a long, fat, rock-hard tool, and I began to rethink this desire of anal sex and of feeling that in me. I'd only ever had sex with my ex, and Gregory hadn't been that large; and we'd broken up ages ago.

"We don't have to," Julian whispered when he ended the kiss. "We can do other things."

Peering deeply into his gentle eyes, I didn't know what to respond. Part of me still wanted to -- the chemistry between Julian and me these ten past days had been incredible and with all the kisses and flirting there had been, the anticipation of what I had expected to come... I needed an outlet to my bottled lust and deep desire. I needed sex with Julian, to feel him in me. Except, he seemed to be way too big for me. I was scared. "Can I... can I see you?" I finally asked.

Julian sweetly smiled at me and nodded. I hooked my fingers at the band of boxer-briefs and carefully slipped them down, along with his jeans.

Free and erect, his length rose from his crotch and pointed at the dark, diamond-riddled sky, looking very, very large.

"You're huge," my words finally broke the silence. I didn't think a penis this big could fit in me... it even seemed slightly threatening, the dark plum, glistening head formed like a rounded spear.

Julian sat up and leaned closer to me, placing a sweet kiss on my parted lips, briefly snaking his soft tongue through them.

"We don't have to," he repeated when he pulled away.

I peered into his eyes, still hesitating.

"Really," he insisted.

I lowered my head and nodded, gazing at the huge tool before me, still erect, still glossy with precum under the silver moonlight. Hesitatingly, I reached for it and wrapped my slender fingers around the hot turgid shaft, feeling its heat, the hard and smooth muscle throbbing lightly and evenly. I couldn't enclose him completely.

"You're beautiful," I said as I looked back up to see Julian's mouth curl at the corners.

"Thank you," he responded, stroking my side with his warm hand.

"Maybe we could..." I started, leaving my sentence trailing.

He frowned. "You don't seem --"

"Please," I cut in. Hearing the begging in my tone, however, I stopped short before I went on again, more evenly. "Please -- I really want to feel you in me; after days of bottled hunger... I... I need to feel you. Please."

Julian peered back into my eyes, his gaze glazed and gleaming with lust. "'Hunger'?" he teasingly repeated, raising an eyebrow.

I bit my lip and blushed, lowered my eyes and nodded.

"I feel it too, the craving for your body," he breathed against my lips as he had leaned into me. He sweetly began to kiss me, one hand on my back as the other pressed my chest down till I lay on the blanket, his body covering me completely. He started down my jaw and my throat to my chest, descending further down till he reached my organ, his active hands roaming up and down my sides. I played with his hair and caressed the side of his face, and moaned when he kissed my head, licking the drop of precum at the teardrop slit. He ran his wet tongue down the length of my shaft next till he reached the place where my member and my sac met and briefly licked that spot, placing soft, wet kisses on my sac, before moved down to the rosebud between my cheeks.

I whimpered and twisted my fingers around his locks as soon as I felt the softness of his wet tongue on my exposed pucker. Julian, who had raised my hips, had to momentarily drop them to use his hand to unhook my fingers from his hair.

"You like this, huh?" he asked, his hot breath on my quivering rosebud, before his deliberately used his skilled tongue on me again, eliciting yet another whimper. Gregory had never rimmed me before and the exhilarating sensations were completely new. I think Julian guessed this because, seconds later, he was asking me:

"Has anyone ever done this to you before?"

I whimpered again as means of answer when he once more lapped my ring.

Julian visibly took an extreme delight in teasing me this way, the caresses of his tongue always coming very deliberately; the agile and flexible tool tensed after a long tonguing during which my rosebud had never ceased to tremble, and again, when I felt it pierce through my ring and penetrate me, I whimpered helplessly, clawing at the blanket and arching my back, especially when Julian began to suck on my ring, even with his tongue still in me. He pulled that expert piece of flesh back and forth a few times, rendering me a complete mess every time he would poke back through my pucker.

I felt sadly empty when he finally removed his tongue from my rosebud and I moaned in protest: "I need you in me, Julian! Please!"

He quietly laughed at me, and came back after a moment, his lips on my pucker again and his tongue briefly slipping through my ring.

"In a few seconds, baby," he replied as he kissed my rosebud and then the inner side of my leg. He raised my hips next and placed them on his lap, tracing a slick and lubed finger around my reddened ring, and easily slipped it in.

I rapidly asked for a second finger, needing the feel of something larger in me, a desire Julian immediately fulfilled. He spent more time loosening me with those two fingers than he had with a single one only, before he inserted a third finger. I bit my lip at the slight discomfort of being stretched more than I had been these last past months, till the feeling faded away. Julian had very skilled fingers that deliciously twisted in my chute and had me completely at his mercy.

"You still want to do this, baby?" he asked again as he retrieved his fingers from me.

"Yeesss," I moaned. "Condoms are in my jeans' pocket."

Julian flashed me a grin and leaned down on me again to kiss. "I know," he replied as he pulled away. He reached for his own pants, though, and fished out a condom from the back pocket.

"I really wanted to hook up with you, too," he sheepishly told me, tearing the foil. "I got myself prepared, in case we would ever get to this..." He let the end of his sentence trail as he rolled the condom onto the huge erection pressed against his stomach and furiously leaking precum.

He got back down onto me and snaked an arm under the small of my back to raise my hips again. I felt the tip of his penis poke around a few times before the head lodged itself at the puckered entrance of my chute.

"Be gentle, please," I asked before he even began to move.

Julian gave me another of his sweet, soothing kisses before he responded: "Relax, Xander. I'll stop pressing in as soon as the head's in you. And simply tell me if you want me to stop altogether, okay?"

I bit my lower lip and nodded, rewarded with a smile. He kissed me again, his smooth wet lips caressing my mouth as he began to press. I impulsively tensed, my legs tightly wrapped around his hips; yet as I grew aware that the pressure was too weak to get through my ring... and was even agreeable... I visibly relaxed and got into the kiss. I sighed when Julian started to cover my face with soft pecks; he lightly nuzzled the bridge of my nose, too, and peppered my jaw bone with licks and nips, before he slightly pulled away to peer into my chocolate eyes, his own blue pools both glazed with sheer lust, and filled with concern underneath the desire.

I think this is when I actually noticed that between all the kisses, Julian had began to press in with more strength and the bulbous, spearhead of his tool had wedge its very tip in the tight tunnel of my chute: I could feel a mild ache now that I paid attention. Julian seemed to pick up on that, though, because he began immediately to place sweet kisses on my throat as to distract me. It did work a little.

Still, I couldn't help the painful whimper coming from my lips as my ring abruptly yielded: I instinctively hid my face in the crook of Julian's neck, seeking protection, biting my quivering lips in pain as the enormous knot of his hot organ brusquely bursted in, extensively stretching my pucker to new and burning dimensions.

"Relax, Xander baby," came Julian's soothing voice as he kissed and nuzzled the side of my face. "Sshh, sshh, baby, let the pain fade away; come on, baby, relax," he continued, and soothed me till I had entirely stopped trembling against him; even then, he went on and lightly rocked me for another whole three minutes.

"Are you okay?" he asked at last, whispering at my ear.

I nodded, my face still in the crook of his neck.

"Do you want me to pull out?"

I actually had to think. The pain had become more bearable, nonetheless, so I asked instead: "Can we stay this way for a little while before you press in again?"

Hearing the softness of my muffled voice against his skin, however, I feared for a second that he hadn't heard me.

"Yes, baby," came his response a moment later, nonetheless. He carefully lowered my hips, the head of his shaft still in, and nuzzled my lips, grazing the tip of his nose on my mouth.

"You okay?" he repeated, kissing my ear.

I nodded my head 'yes' yet again.

"You've never been with anyone a little bigger than average, before?"

"No," I breathed. Gregory had been in the high average, yet not bigger than average. I hesitated then decided against telling him that before him, I'd only ever had my ex in me.

I pressed the side of my face against his. "You can press in," I told him.

I felt Julian's tongue on my neck as he licked and nibbled the skin. Carefully, he began to press in, feeding more his massive member into my excessively stretched out rosebud. With a penis as huge as his, a single inch seemed like three, and the friction that the penetration initiated, despite the lube, rapidly heated my ring.

"Wait," I asked Julian when he had forced this extra inch in. "I need to shift my hips a little before you get any more of yourself in me."

"You still okay?" he asked as I wriggled beneath him.

It took me ages to find a comfortable angle of penetration -- probably because Julian's enormous tool barely felt comfortable at all. No angle seemed good. Fortunately for me, Julian proved to be extremely patient lover. He kissed me most of the time, anywhere he could, although he did still every now and then; to control his need of ramming into me and having his wicked way with me, I imagined. Thinking that he made real efforts to keep his desires in check made me fall even more in lust with Julian.

The second inch of his huge tool that he pressed into me actually felt good, especially when he stroked my prostate. The third became uncomfortable again, however, and by the fourth, I actually believed Julian had somehow pressed in the largest part of his member, pun intended. When he fed me the fifth inch, and I still couldn't feel his sac against me, I hesitatingly asked if he still had a lot left to press in.

"Tell me when you can't take any more of me, baby," he answered, evading my question.

I buried my face further into the crook of his neck and nodded. I wondered if I was counting correctly. Gregory's seven inches had never been that hard to take.

I took the sixth inch in with a lot of effort.

"Please no more," I begged with a whimper when he stopped to let me get used to the intrusion: I felt more than full -- I felt over filled, his penis so deep in my chute I could feel it in my belly; and so large! My ring felt completely overpowered by the force and thickness of Julian's organ.

"Okay, baby, relax," Julian soothed. "Breathe in and relax. You've actually taken more than I expected."

From the tone of his voice, he seemed to be proud. Of me. That gave me some comfort and I obeyed, breathing in and exhaling with long, deliberate breaths.

"That's good, baby," he encouraged me. I melted against him when he started to sweetly kiss me everywhere again, and the pain faded to a very mild throb.

"I feel better," I told him after several long moments of those gentle ministrations.

Julian briefly trapped my lips with his. "Do you?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm," I nodded.

"Want me to start...?"

"Yes... please..."

Julian grinned at me. "Okay. Get ready, lover boy," he teased.

He started to pull back, and I quivered as I felt every millimeter of his very fat tool as it slid out and forced itself back in. Julian merely worked an inch in and out of me to begin with, yet until he pulled and pressed back in two of them, I had been under the impression he had used more of his length. It seemed incredible how his girth totally changed the sensations and altered my perceptions and my feel of how much of his tool Julian had in me. I swiftly grew at ease nonetheless, comfortable even, with these new feelings, and Julian's teasing -- because, after a time of accommodation to his organ and the way it felt as he pressed in and out, Julian began to pull out more than he would slid back in, or push in more than he would take out, eliciting from me what he later called 'cute' whimpers when he pressed in more length than expected, and 'adorable' moans of protest when less came.

By then, my rosebud and my chute were completely ablaze with heated and feverish feelings of thrills that Julian's hot member created in me, and I couldn't help from whimpering in his neck, legs tightly wrapped around his hips; reason for which I plaintively groaned when Julian, for what seemed inexplicable motives, stopped rocking his hips. He quietly laughed against my ear when he felt me hopelessly try to grind more of his amazing shaft in me.

"Keep still a second, baby," he chuckled as he reached for my hips with one of his hands. "Can you feel me?" he asked when I had reluctantly stilled. "I'm in you -- completely in you."

With formidable efforts, the fog that sex with Julian had hazed my mind with dissipated, and I tried to process his words. Only then did I feel the bush of his pubic hair against my sac, and his own pressed against my bottom.

"You're in me," I managed to breathe with amazement and a hint of disbelief.

I heard Julian's warm chuckles as he laughed at my awe before he trapped my lips with his and began pressing in and out again. It took less than fifteen minutes then to have me come, and with a last whimper, I tensed, trembled, and felt my ring tighten into an impossible vice-grip that triggered Julian's hot organ to orgasm as I spilled my seed between our bodies. I creamed long shots of cum and I felt the already massive tool in me grow even larger and longer, reaching even deeper spaces, and savagely throb in my chute as my ring twitched with excruciatingly painful spasms, even long after I had stopped ejaculating. Julian, the ever caring lover, held me tight until all the tremors that shook my body had ceased.

"You were incredible," he breathed in my ear when I progressively became coherent again.

Me, incredible ?

No, couldn't be: to me, he had been the incredible one -- sex had been extremely intense and I knew that had been due to Julian's skills and experience.

He kissed me on the lips before I could respond, nonetheless, and then slipped a hand down to seize his semi-soft organ and carefully slipped it out. I whimpered when the head popped out my ring, despite the fact Julian had attempted to make this as gentle as possible; yet even now, partly flaccid, his member was still very thick. Julian kissed my nose and apologized.

Moments later, he placed the used condom on the ground, tied at its extremity, before he reached for his jeans and took a small disposable hand towel from the back pocket and tenderly began to wipe the excess of lube that still greased my sore pucker. I watched his beautiful face as he stroked my rosebud with extreme gentleness, and then wiped the cum of my chest and his. He put the towel down next to the condom and then lay back down on me, covering my slender body with his. We kissed softly, both sated and relaxed, enjoying each other's body in a more cozy way. I've always been very demanding after sex, needing to feel my partner's body as I recovered, and I was pleased to see that Julian, too, desired to cuddle.

* * *

The next day, Julian seemed to want to keep close to me, at all times. He'd repeatedly ask me if I felt okay, if the soreness was okay (that actually had me blushed), and if I could walk okay -- we were going to climb the mighty Kings Canyon and Julian's beautiful features darkened when Iris reminded us of that in the morning at breakfast. He discreetly emitted his doubts about my climbing abilities to me, and despite me telling him I felt fine, he offered me his help every time a part of the canyon seemed more challenging. I would refuse it in the beginning, refusing to be crippled for the rest of the day because of some tenderness down there; yet as I felt myself becoming sorer as the morning passed, I ended up accepting it every single time with a grateful smile.

When we reached the top of the canyon, Julian embraced me with his chest pressed against my back, arms loosely wrapped around my middle, his lips on my nape. We were comfortable enough among the other trekkers to hold each other this way -- we were all from New York, after all. I felt strangely whole, contemplating the magnificent view before us, wrapped in Julian's possessively protective arms; and I couldn't help to wonder what we would become once we would go back home.