Date: Thu, 4 May 2006 05:48:20 -0500
From: Timothy Stillman <comewinter@earthlink.net>
Subject: He Came From the Shadows

                   "He Came From the Shadows"

                               by

                           Tim Stillman


He came from the shadows. I had known he was there a long time. Being me,
there was more to be done, for my math class, endless studying for Math,
endless failing exams. And I was at my desk in my bedroom, walnut desk, Blue
Horse notebook on the glass top, No. 2 pencil in my hand, the eraser almost
nubbed off by my teeth, as I concentrated and sweated and took off my shirt
and closed my eyes, trying to trick my brain into understanding Algebra,
this world of numbers and signs and points and decimals that made no sense,
and cubed was cubed by a zillion and I could stay at this a zillion years
and never get it right. And then he was behind me.

 Not like in the horror story where you dare not look up from the book that
had been the bait for you and only you, but something more than fear,
something of it, yes, sure, but more like adoration, and he put his arms
around my chest and he touched me, tickled me, and I maintained my studious
posture, as though I was in class, thinking I could trick myself that way as
well, and talking through the problems, as if I were the teacher getting
impatient with me and trying to make me understand, and he touched my
sternum and I put my pencil down carefully in the plastic pencil tray.

I turned to him, partly and he knelt behind me, put his hands to my face and
traced the outlines. I've always had what someone  once called an insectoid
face, its outlines like those of an insect's, green eyes, long lashes, V
shaped face, high cheekbones, prim mouth, and he kissed that prim mouth and
I felt myself harden in my jeans, and his breath was on me, like cloves,
like summer rain when the heat is washed away by the silence of the night
and even the crickets are still. As though there were something of
otherworldly of him, and he put his hand to my mid riff and he held me and
he felt my body beating and I felt his beating also, and he had come again
tonight, and I turned further to him in my sticky fake leather clingy chair
and he pushed me away from the desk.

His eyes were love. His face was all the beautiful faces in the world put
together as one. And he was naked. I saw his hard penis and I put my hand to
the shaft and stroked it and it jumped a bit as he smiled and my smile
mingled with his, and we were together.

As I put my arms round him and I kissed his eyes, and he stood and his penis
and balls and slight pubic hair were in front of me and he pushed me very
gently, very intensely though, to my knees, and as I was going down to them,
he touched briefly my flat stomach and made me warmer than ever though it
was already too warm in the house on this early Spring evening. I went
sighingly to my knees, carefully, as though they and he were made of glass,
and it would all go wrong, as he put his hands delicate as dandelion fluff
on my shoulders and tilted my head toward his penis, which I sucked after I
had tongued it, after I had licked the shaft top side and then underneath,
this beautiful strong human male device that lingered in my mouth, that told
me this is home, the little rises of it, the little veins of it, the way it
struggled against my tongue.

..as he pushed my head up and down it, and he was sighing, and his hands,
his fingers danced knowingly on my shoulders that were too thin, too
concave, and he felt me and my mouth never wanted to leave, the sound of it,
the feel and the heft of it, as I held his balls and touched everything that
was right and just in there, as though court never need be convened for me
again.

And in the shadows, just my desk lamp and the living room light blending
through a bit, through the top and bottom of my closed door, he was the
stamp of shadows, he was nothing more than the conjurer of the whole world
that stood next to him and watched and amazed as we made love, as the
sparkle of his eyes, as I looked up at his face, as he smiled down at me as
though he were my forever boy and I was his eternal guardian, and we would
never let harm come to the other, we would never let space divide us, this
moment as though time would take a little corner of his smile and place it
within me and I would not need to remember, but if I needed to remember...

And I pushed my hands up to his abdomen, and then to his hairless chest and
to his nipples hardly even there as though embarrassed and polite, but I
hardened what was there, and he was perfect, and he was golden, and he was
why I came home in the afternoon, and I sucked him harder and wished and
wished, as though golden times could come and there would always be this
reasoning, this acceptance of a miracle where there were country roads
leading to my house and there was this boy waiting for me there as well, and
the shadow game we played, and the positions we took, and were one this time
and the other the next, and this house mine one time, and his the next, and
each took turns in the shadow game. And he tapped me on the shoulder and his
body swayed and he went deeper into my mouth, and I held him at an angle and
I touched his left buttock with my left hand, and I felt him warm and young
and forever.

And complete and story book, as it was so extra ordinary, here was I, class
clown, class jerk, math and okay history test failure too, and this
beautiful boy of the golden glow was letting Insect Boy have sex with him,
more more making love, and that was the key, all the back seats in all the
old cars with boys and girls together in them, forget it, they knew nothing
of romance, just the hot and sweaty hands and will she let me get to third
base tonight? Oh please.

And he was saying oh please, oh please, and his voice was North Country, and
his voice was a song I heard sometime ago, and could not quite remember, and
tomorrow night I would be the shadow boy and he would be studying at his
desk, good in every topic, especially math and okay history too, but now he
was concentrating on me, and on my mouth and he was stroking my hair and my
shoulders and he was asking that I please finish him, that he wanted to cum
in my mouth so badly, and so well, and I put my hands against his sturdy
thighs and braced myself like a cantilevered bridge and I pulled on his
penis with my mouth, tickled the head then bit it a bit too hard to which he
moaned and then I rose my head and descended with it over and over as though
firing a gun, as though I was moving with superfast strength, and speed, and
we were one over Cairo over the pyramids over the islands and over the South
Seas..

.. and the clouds covered us and his hands grabbed my hands and his hands
held to mine on his legs and he opened his legs further and stood almost
slipping a little more distant from me and then I put my fingers to his
penis and concentrated on bringing him the best cum job in the world.

 We were both sweating by this point, we were both concentrating on him and
on him there was topography enough to explore like Perry did the Arctic
forever more, and he leaned into me and his groin met my mouth and I rifled
my fingers through his pubic hair and they tickled those hairs my nose a
little, and he was almost falling from his taller height than mine, and I
put him in my mouth and out of my mouth faster and faster and he jerked and
jerked and became a tumble storm, and he almost wailed, he was there, almost
there, the four minute mile having been broken, the fast runner, the sprint
runner, heading home were deep cradle in his body his secret self was
captured and known for a time at least only by me, and the interior of his
sexual mechanism began to expand and contract.

I thought of it as a clock being wound, tighter and tighter, and minutes
piled faster on minutes, and then minutes ticking down slower and backwards
then going faster and faster and I was pummeling his penis with my mouth,
and he was straight into me as a plane into a hanger and he shouted out and
I worked him all the more and he strained his legs and his chest as he bent
over me and poured himself into my mouth and it was my friend, essence, star
glow, moon tumble over stars and finding the right degree of poetry that it
had not known it had in itself, that final ulterior leap from interior body
mechanisms and external fraternity, and we melded and melted together and
were one, and he held to my face with his hand.

 As I swallowed him over and over again and he kept cumming, more than
before, much more than the time before that, and he said leave it in, stroke
it with your tongue, bathe me as though I were a little child again, and we
played and I held and I caressed and sometime later we lay on my bed, as
tomorrow night I would lie on his, and he was always right and kind in being
right, amazed sometimes down right in being able to do so much so well, with
such self abnegation that you could not mind, it was his duty to do so, to
be himself, and if others saw him at school, they would never know, for I
was on the cusp now, and I could pass the Math tests and okay history too,
if I truly wanted.then--

The shadows were where I would stay the rest of my days, and as we lay now
naked on my small bed, as he stroked my hard on and I stroked his now hard
again, as he tickled my nipples with his tongue tip, my nipples that were
larger than his, I am proud to say, and very very impolite, as least in
comparison, I could be him tomorrow and the day after that, and he would let
me, but if he did let me, if I was him in the sunshine, then neither could
we ever make love again, except for masturbation of one on one and that one
forever me alone, unless I took the properties of him, unless I could make
that huge leap, huge for me at least, and become good at life, be popular,
have friends...

Boyfriends and girlfriends if I wanted, be somebody other than my insectoid
faced self with the green eyes and the long lashes, I could be other than
girlish looking, I could be more sandy more buffed like he and thinking this
as he leaned up on his elbows and looked down at me, he said I could do what
I wanted, it was up to me, but I had to decide because it was Tuesday night
April 2 and he would love me no matter what, but he could do the outside
thing, the school thing, the life thing.

I was so scared and he held out his hand with a blue chip in the center of
the palm, the chip I had never seen before, and he said for me to touch it
if I wished and it would give me all the power I needed and all the courage
and he would be gone and be gone echoed down through the tunnels of my
thoughts and hearings and it was so scary, being not scared, knowing that I
had been given life, been given the ability to live it and all I had to do
was to press that little chip in his hand, that chip that glowed blue so
beautifully with such intoxication that I almost got lost inside it.

Then I would first of all understand my insectoid face and why it was thus
and that was the beginning of planets and histories and mysteries answered
through the ages, the bone structure of my face would give me freedom to be
the smartest boy man alive and he curled his arms round me and lay on me and
then he moved his face to my penis that had become hard again at his touch,
at his tongue's insistence, and he looked up at me, his hand on my cock that
wanted above all his hand and his mouth and his beautiful parfait colored
body, and I looked down at him and he put his hand on my abdomen, and I knew
what he wanted and we both knew he was not playing fair, but it didn't
matter love it didn't matter.

"Please, sir," I said softly, with what I hoped with firm decision, "suck my
cock."

And he did.

And all was lost.