by
Part 9: The Prince
'Can I do it both ways, back and front?' he asked.
I looked at him standing there in my room, beaming gleefully with an almost inane expression, and I hesitated. I didn't really understand his question.
He was a prince. A Crown Prince, or so I'd been told. Not that it made much difference to me. Royal spunk tasted much the same as any other. He was heir to the throne of some tiny oil-rich Arab state. He was still young, only about 14 or 15, not much older than Ten, but already well developed, with the beginnings of a wispy beard on his chin and downy sideburns. He seemed so naïve, it was obvious he was a boyfuck virgin. I got the measure of him straight away. He was completely oblivious - probably led a very sheltered life of wealth and privilege, and had more money than sense. Rich beyond imagination, but with no savvy whatsoever. What did he mean 'back and front'? Only girls got fucked like that. Boys only had one pussy.
'You can do it any way you like,' I replied, thinking that the most conducive answer.
His hazel eyes lit up with childlike glee.
'I can put it in you? And shoot my stuff inside you too?'
'That's the general idea,' I said, a little condescendingly.
He hurriedly took his clothes off. Apart from his headdress, he was clothed in expensive designer casuals, which he carefully peeled off and laid ever so tidily on the chair. One thing was clear: he had impeccable taste. When he was fully undressed, I took a good look at him. Without his ghutrah headdress I could see his full head of shiny black hair, which was long and thick and wavy. Tell the truth, he was actually quite handsome. Despite the fact that he was a thick set boy, he had quite a nice body. His burgeoning adolescence gave him a slightly muscled physique. He was already quite well built with a neat coating of short, downy black hair on his thighs and forearms, but his chest was still smooth. He had some flab about his middle, but overall he looked quite healthy and virile. His cock and balls was a slightly darker shade of brown than the rest of him, especially where the skin of his heavy sac was gathered up in neat little wrinkles. His balls were big. And his cock was quite substantial, long and fat and neatly cut with a shiny, bulbous head. In its erect state it looked very eager, pulsing with anticipation, engorged with blood, hot and stiff and ready to be fucked hard into my willing little hole. Tell the truth I desperately wanted it in me. This Arab boy's inexperience was tremendously arousing. I loved popping the cock cherries of the boyfuck virgins. The mere thought of it got me so worked up I wanted him to fuck it into me real hard so I could feel it stabbing deep into my little chute, and so he could experience the exquisite pleasure of his cock buried deep in fuckboy ass for the first time. Fuck, I was so horned up I think my little butt was leaking juices in anticipation.
I sat on the bed naked, waiting for him. He stood in the middle of the room, now undressed, but not knowing what to do. I held out my hand, inviting him to join me on the bed. I scooted over so he could lie down. He came and laid flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. This Crown Prince was quite clearly a beginner, and he had this look of perved-out confusion in his eyes like he was waiting for me to show him the way. I knew I was going to have to guide him. This is where a shota boy really earns his money.
I decided that the best thing would be for him to let me do all the work. He tilted his head forward on the pillow so he could watch me. I got astride him, and sank my butt down over his dick, pointing the head at my star, and adjusting my knees so I was at the right height to ride him. I took hold of his shaft and directed it towards my little cunt. When I guided the head of his big stiff dick and pushed it against my little star, he felt the resistance of my sphincter. His cockhead pressed hard against my ring, seeking entry. He stared at me with this look of disbelief, like he couldn't conceive that his cock was going to fit in there. Oh no? Let me show you what Cloud's heavenly little cunt can do. I forced my butt down hard onto his cock, splitting open my pucker, and he gasped, amazed by the fact that his cock actually sank into me. He stared, wide-eyed, as he watched his cock being swallowed up by my magical little chute. He seemed to be in a state of shock, red faced and disbelieving, as I fed his fuckstick further and further in. His expression was priceless, something of a cross between apoplexy and incredulity.
His dick was no further than halfway in, with me squatting astride him trying to get it fully docked into my little cunt, when suddenly he arched his back and his head rose from the pillow. He was overtaken by this low, guttural growl which emanated from deep in his throat, and his dick pulsed. He spunked unexpectedly, emitting four or five spurts of thick, white, sticky cum, which immediately began leaking out of my boyhole and down the sides of his shaft. He seemed surprised. I didn't really like premature ejaculators. It took all the fun out of it. He was just too overexcited. But then again, as this was his first illicit peep into the heights of pedo heaven, with me ushering his dick into a state of nirvana, I decided he could be forgiven.
Quick thinking, as always, and anxious to salvage what I could of this encounter, and to make it as dirty and way-out as possible for him, I reached down with my fingertips clenched together, and wiped up as much of his sticky jizz as I could with my hand, then put it up to my face and licked it like a lollipop. It had the desired effect - he was incredulous. None of his jizz was wasted. Still sitting astride him, I reached down and smothered my hand in what was left and licked it all up off my fingers, at the same time looking into his eyes. That's it, watch me savor every drop of your young Arab spunk - witness a prime piece of fuckboy ass performing his dirty tricks for you. He was absolutely mesmerized by my antics.
He was still hard, and still laying quiescently on the bed, looking down at his crotch which was now wet with his premature jizz. I moved off his hips and sat down between his legs. He obediently spread his legs for me. So there I was sitting between his open legs as he lay back on the bed, his dick still hard and pointing up, and I thought maybe he could go again. I knew from experience that some guys just needed to have a quick and urgent cum to relieve their initial overexcitement, and could then settle down into a more refined fuck afterwards, which took a bit longer and which they could then take the time to savor. Well, not this guy. His dick practically had a hairtrigger which could spunk from the slightest stimulation. I took his big thick shaft in my little hand and this time he knew what was coming. He smiled and relaxed into it, but again it didn't take long. My little hand jacked him fast and within a few strokes he was erupting again. Fuck, I had ever seen a guy cum so quickly and in such quick succession. It was incredible. What I found even more unbelievable was that he spunked as much the second time as he did the first time, and he even smiled in surprised delight as his cock sprayed all over my arms and chest as I jacked it. His cumshots were spectacular.
Even after the second cum, we sat there facing each other, wet from the sprinkling of his cock, and he was still hard. This young Arab prince was something really special. His 15 year old body was probably capable of some amazing stuff which he was only just starting to discover, and the look on his face told me that he was already finding out things he never knew about himself.
He drew a deep breath as I reached for his dick one more time.
'How did you do that?' he asked, amazed.
'Do what?'
'How did you make my johnson explode like that?'
His johnson? I hadn't heard that term in a good long while. It was almost funny.
'Doesn't it usually do that?' I asked him.
I know that's not the kind of question you should ask a Crown Prince, but then I was sitting there with his engorged dick in my hand, both of us naked, already soaked by two of his spunkloads, so I didn't think it too disrespectful to enquire as to his personal wanking regime.
'I don't know,' he said, totally deadpan, 'I don't do that at home.'
I switched hands and carried on jacking him as we entered into this strange conversation.
'You don't jerk off?' I said.
He stared at me looking slightly guilty.
'I try not to,' he said, in a tone that implied I had suggested something improper, 'My mother says I must not use up all my sperm or there will be no one to succeed me to the throne.'
What the fuck? Did I hear him right?
'What do you mean use up all your sperm?' I said, with a mocking tone, 'You don't have a lifetime voucher y' know.'
'You don't?' he said, astonished.
'Nah!' I said, 'If you use it up, you make more.'
He breathed a sigh of relief.
'Praise be to god,' he said, 'I was afraid I would use it all up today.'
'You sure jizzed up a hell of a load,' I said, impressed, 'Twice!'
'I know,' he replied, 'I saved it up.'
'You SAVED it?' I reiterated, slightly disbelieving, 'How long for?'
'Three months,' he said.
I nearly fell off the bed. I stopped jacking him momentarily.
'You didn't jerk off for THREE months? No wonder you jizzed up so much.'
To me that would have been unheard of. Not only unheard of, but damn near impossible. If little Cloud didn't get any attention on a daily basis, he would be standing up insistently in my crotch begging to be smacked about until he gave up his load. And if I didn't touch him for a long time, he would spit out a load in my sleep anyway, just to spite me. You had to admire the little fucker - his spirit was irrepressible.
'My mother said I mustn't do it, it's ungodly.'
She seemed to have a lot to say, this mother of his. How significant, I thought, that such a philosophy could only originate from someone who didn't have a dick themselves.
'It's normal,' I said, reassuring him, 'All guys do it.'
'What even the priests?' he asked, trying to be clever.
'Especially the priests,' I said, with a sly smile.
And I should know. Clergymen were the biggest boyfuckers around, followed closely by the judges and magistrates.
The Prince seemed to whisper something to himself, like he was trying to assimilate all these startling revelations. I carried on jacking him, determined to get a third cumload out of him.
'What else does she say, this mother of yours?' I asked him, coaxing the conversation along as I jacked him.
I swear it was one of the most surreal exchanges I had ever had, carrying on this odd conversation with this Crown Prince, both of us naked on my bed, his last ejaculation still drying on me, my hand stroking his big brown shaft.
'She says it's dirty and shameful.'
'Really?' I said, distinctly unimpressed, 'And what do YOU think?'
He stared at me, obviously loving the feel of my slender young fingers around his big, thick shaft, and he smiled guiltily.
'I can't help it,' he confessed, looking away bashfully, 'All the time I think about boys.'
He actually blushed as he said it, his dark cheeks turning a shade of deep red, and I could tell how ashamed he was. I also knew how much we boys were ruled by our dicks and I kinda felt sorry for him, having this burden of duty for being a Crown Prince, heir to throne of his country, with all the resultant obligation and responsibility weighing on his young shoulders. What I saw before me was a wonderful boy, not quite a man, still a child in many ways, in the prime of his youth, bursting with energy and vitality, at the peak of his sexual development, his balls heavy with fresh young sperm, his cock stiff with the first flushes of sexual desire. Here was a boy whose sexuality drove him to seek young boyflesh, who craved the sexual thrill and the companionship of other boys, who wanted to fuck about and experiment with them and discover all the wonderful secrets and delights of cock and ass play - what could be so wrong about that?
'So do I,' I said, hoping to establish some solidarity with him, 'I wanna do it all the time, and when I'm not doing it, I'm thinking about it.'
He breathed a sigh of relief.
'Really?' he said, raising his thick black eyebrows, 'Even you?'
'Yes,' I said emphatically, 'It's a basic need, just like eating and sleeping.'
Again he stared, and I could detect the machinations in his head as he was assimilating this way of thinking. Something told me he hadn't bargained for being jacked off by a horny young shota boy who could also hold a conversation, who was deep and thoughtful and who had his own philosophy. I wasn't just a pretty face. Sure, I could suck and fuck with the best of them, but I was no doof. I could also dispense a few pearls of fuckboy wisdom from time to time too.
'So tell me,' I went on, still jacking his rampant dick with long firm strokes, 'What would you like to do to me?'
Again he looked ashamed and averted his gaze. The look in his eyes told me that he had never voiced those thoughts aloud. I wanted to see if I could get this young Arab prince to talk dirty to me and put into words the sordid little fantasies he secretly toyed with in his mind. I knew it would make him spunk real hard to hear those things being enunciated. But he was going to need some encouragement.
'Go on, tell me. I'm here to please you. You can do anything you like to me.'
I waited till just the right moment, then lowered my head and took his dick into my mouth. The moment my lips were encased around his shaft, he moaned quite loudly and threw his head back, opening his legs wider and even thrusting up a little, raising his butt off the bed to force his cock even deeper into my mouth. Then he spoke.
'I want to suck your johnson,' he said, with his eyes still closed.
'Uh hum,' I said, my mouth still full of his cock, 'What else?'
'I want to fuck your butt.'
The way he said 'fuck' told me that he didn't often use those words. This was a liberation for him, sexually and verbally.
'I want to fuck you hard,' he went on, 'Would you like that?'
Now he was asking me questions. That was a good sign. He wanted to do some verbal role playing. How bold of him.
'Yes,' I said, momentarily raising my head, 'I love being fucked hard.'
'I want to fuck you in all your holes and shoot my stuff in you.'
'Mmm,' I said, my cheeks bulging on his shaft, 'What else?'
'I want to make you scream as I fuck you.'
Seems he liked it rough. I stared at him intensely, almost defiantly, looking up with the head of his cock still firmly between my lips, sucking on it like a popsicle.
'Do it,' I said, goading him, 'I want you to fuck me real hard. Hurt me. Make me cry out.'
At this point, his ass rose up off the bed and he rammed his dick right into the back of my mouth and he moaned loudly, emitting two or three loud vocalizations, each one rising in volume.
'Oh, oh, ooh!'
And he spunked. Fuck, did he spunk. He spunked good and hard, his dick waggling up and down strongly, trapped between my lips.
I buried his cock in my head as he was cumming, taking it as deep into my mouth as I could, and grabbed it with both hands so he wouldn't pull out. He squirmed away blindly on the bed in front of me, and I held onto his dick as it pulsed away in my fingers, eagerly sucking down his load. His spunk was thick and creamy, this time more substantial since it had had more time to muster, and it was blood-warm and tasted very earthy. I made sure to smear the tip of his cock around my mouth as he finished spunking, so he could see my lips wet and shiny with his essence as the last few pulses dribbled from his spunkhole. As I raised my head to look at him, a big frothy gob of his cum dripped off my chin, and I slowly poked out my tongue and licked around my mouth. He was incredulous.
By the time his encounter with me was over, he walked out of my room slightly bowed, almost limping, and I knew it was because his cock and balls must be hurting. I had made him cum three times in less than an hour. The very thought that I had done that to him made my little cock stiffen. I could almost have cum in my pants thinking that he was walking out of my room with his balls depleted and his cock still leaking the remnants of his last cumwad, the unmistakable testimony of a good day's work on my part. Both his cock and his mind were well and truly blown. Yup. Another satisfied customer.
* * * * * *
The very next day, Guus accosted me in the common room. He took me aside on the way back from the kitchen and asked me if I would care to have a quick word. I was on my way to see Simon-Peter actually, so I was a little reluctant to be waylaid. But because it was Guus I thought it wouldn't be wise to fob him off. As we stepped into the common room, Sunny was in there, flounced across the sofa talking loudly into his cellphone and cackling with laughter. He was always loud and showy when he was on the phone, like he wanted to involve everyone else within earshot - they got to hear his conversation whether they wanted to or not. The TV was on, but no one was watching it. The coffee table was cluttered with an array of used mugs, and the ashtrays were all full to overflowing like miniature slag heaps. That was why I didn't spend much time in there. The place always looked like a tip. It was supposed to be a place for us shota boys to relax and chill out, perhaps socialize a little, but if it meant making conversation with boys like Sunny, I'd rather retire alone to my room. I had much more enlightening and edifying entertainment there. I preferred my own company anyway. Even pulling my own todger and squirting my boyspunk into my palm was infinitely more interesting than having to interact with boys like Sunny. Besides, I met a better class of people that way.
Guus and I tried to have a conversation above Sunny's cackling laughter. Guus stepped quite close and touched me on the elbow.
'You do know what's happening on New Years Eve, don't you?' he said, with an expectant tone.
'Yeh, I know,' I said, 'It's the New Years Eve orgy,' I replied.
Guus grimaced and closed his eyes momentarily, as though I'd said something distasteful.
'I do wish you wouldn't call it that,' he said, in his guttural Amsterdam accent, 'It's so vulgar.'
'Well, that's what it is,' I asserted, sticking to my description.
'It's a New Years Eve Bacchanal,' he said, correcting me.
'If that's what you want to call it,' I replied.
Guus laughed. That's what I liked about Guus, he always retained his sense of humor.
'So what about it?' I asked.
'I hope you're saving up your reserves,' he said, raising his eyebrows in cryptic reference.
'Do I need to?'
'Oh yes,' Guus insisted, 'You're my star attraction.'
'ME?' I exclaimed.
'Of course you,' said Guus, taken aback, 'Who else?'
'Gee, I dunno,' I replied, 'I thought we were all taking part.'
'You are,' said Guus, 'I want every boy on duty that night. But I want you for the finale.'
'The finale?' I queried, a little suspicious.
'Yes. I want you hard as a rock and full of spunk.'
Guus never did mince his words.
'What will I have to do?'
Guus looked at me, hesitating slightly, as though unsure how to phrase it.
'Cum hard, spray like a firehose and scream like the little cumwhore that you are,' he said.
Now it was my turn to laugh. How poetic. Guus had such a way with words.
'You can count on me,' I said, flattered that he had designated me as his star attraction.
Then Guus dug his hand into his pants pocket and extracted something.
'You'll need these,' he said, proffering a little phial of blue pills.
I looked up at him, flummoxed.
'I don't need those,' I said.
He held the glass phial up, pointing the cap towards me. When I failed to take it, he pushed it onto me anway.
'You will for what I have in mind.'
Guus was such a sexy, dirty bastard. He loved seeing boys having strange things done to them. His sex parties were legendary for the outlandish activities and the sheer depth of the depravity he wanted to subject us to. They were always well attended, and the New Years Eve Bacchanal, as he insisted on calling it, was the highlight of the Saxon Club's social calendar. The event attracted the most unsavory characters, and the ones who were most proficient at concocting painful, demeaning and extreme sex acts for us shota boys to endure, all for the guest's edification. It usually meant our holes were pumped full of spunk, our butts would be red raw, and I'd be feeling nauseous from the sheer volume of spunk I will have swallowed, to say nothing of the soreness of my dick and balls. My foreskin would be grazed and my balls would be aching from multiple cums. It was certainly the most extreme kind of sex I had ever known. It was sheer unencumbered excess and debauchery. Given the circumstances, I knew the Viagra would help.
Guus detected my ambivalence.
'I think you should take them anyway,' he said, 'It's going to be a pretty marathon session.'
'Thanks,' I said, accepting the phial hesitantly.
I didn't really know if I would use the Viagra. I could try and wing it without any assistance. I was fairly confident I could keep wood AND cum several times if I paced myself. But on the other hand, I knew the Viagra would make my stiffie ultra-stiff, probably keep wood all night continuously, without any real effort, and make my cums gut-clenchingly powerful. It also helped to regenerate quicker - I could cum faster, harder, and more often. The attraction of those little blue pills, even when you didn't really need them, was certainly a temptation.
Well, the Viagra proved to be more of a temptation than I thought. Later that evening I was on the club floor with an inordinately hard little dick, having taken 25mg of the stuff. It worked a treat. Even when I wasn't focused on him, little Cloud was as stiff as a ramrod, reluctant to be overlooked, as if to ask me why I wasn't paying him any attention. No matter how much I distracted myself, I couldn't get my dick to go down. It was sticking out in my crotch, long and straight, like some divining rod seeking boy pussy. The music was thudding away in the background, the smoky atmosphere thick with intrigue and sexual promise. My little hairless balls felt heavy with spunk, anticipating a good hard cum at some point in the evening, when they would delightfully release their cargo in a welcome and rapturous explosion of sheer pleasure. Oh fuck, I needed to burst my little kiddie fuckwad real bad.
Sure enough, I hadn't been on the club floor for very long, when Guus approached me. I was sitting on my usual stool by the corner of the bar, my little cock awkwardly poking up between my legs, and me trying hard not to play with it. I fiddled with it from time to time, but stopped short of actually jacking it. Even Ten was too busy tonight to come over and give me a little token suck. Fuck, I needed to get off so bad it was almost hurting. When Guus came over he was looking at my stiffie with a grin of admiration and amusement. I thought he was going to offer to relieve it for me. But he didn't. He walked up to me purposefully and interrupted me taking a swig of my drink.
'There you are,' he said, 'I've been looking for you.'
'What's up?' I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, wondering what the urgency was.
'Someone's waiting for you in the backroom,' he said, one hand on his Uzi, which was pointed at the floor.
'Who?' I asked.
'He didn't give his name,' said Guus, 'He asked especially for you. He paid a lot of money for you too.'
At this point Guus delved into his hip pocket and drew out several large bills which he stuffed into my arm strap. I admired the way they were pinned there against my bicep, waxy crinkled paper pressed against smooth young boy flesh, shiny new bills lined up in perfect symmetry. It was a lot. Way above the going rate for a backroom encounter.
The backroom was reserved for those clients who, provided they could come up with the readies, sought to have a one-to-one with the boy of their choice. They would usually pick the boy out on the club floor, then take him into the backroom for a quick session. It was a better alternative to the ad-hoc encounters on the club floor where they could slip a few bills into the boy's arm strap and jerk or blow him right there in front of everybody. Those encounters were more of a spontaneous thing. Of course, if they wanted a boy all to themselves they could always spend the night, and that was when a boy would take a trick up to his room and give them the works. The backroom offered a kind of midway encounter. It provided some semblance of privacy without the obligation of staying the whole night. It was good if the client wanted to enjoy one of the boys at their leisure, and it was also good when there was a group of clients together who could join in without any risk to the boy. A boy couldn't take more than one trick up to his room, for obvious reasons, but in the backroom a boy could be enjoyed by several guys at once. The backrooms were monitored and the sessions were strictly timed, so it was pretty safe to be left alone.
I was suddenly curious. Curious, but eager. I was intrigued as to who it was that had paid so much money for me. I could only surmise that, if he had asked for me by name, it must be some trick that had played with me before. I had many admiring tricks that appreciated my expertise as a fuckboy. It was only to be expected that they would come back for more at some point in time. Indeed, I would have been offended if they didn't.
My stiffie was harder than ever as I made my way to the backroom. The way my little dickie waggled about in my crotch drew all kinds of longing and envious stares from the clients as I glided past them. When I got there, I opened the heavy wooden door, which had a little hatch in it for observation, and I slipped inside quietly. It was always quiet and calm in the backroom, and the lighting was always subdued - a stark contrast to the noise and heat and smoke on the club floor. I pushed the door gently shut by shoving my butt against it backwards. The music of the club was silenced to a dull background thud, and I felt an instant calm and relief.
Then I heard a familiar voice.
'Hello Cloud Nine.'
I turned to the side and I saw a wonderful and welcoming sight sitting there, open and relaxed on the big low sofa. Of course I recognized him instantly - I recognized the floppy black curls and the bandana, and the gold earring, and that handsome jaw suavely working away on an inordinately large piece of gum.
'Ciggy!' I exclaimed, squealing with delight and surprise.
My heart soared. I flew into his arms. He rose up and caught me as I jumped on him, and he enveloped me in his strong embrace, pinning me against him, with my arms and legs wrapped around him koala-style. It was exquisite.
'How are you lil man?' he said, muffled into my hair.
We nuzzled for a long few moments, squeezing each other, our bodies melding together in warmth and affection. He felt so big and strong against my small, naked body, and he smelled of cinnamon. It felt good to be in Ciggy's arms again.
After our initial greeting was over, Ciggy held me against him, and dropped back down on the sofa with a plop, with me still clinging to him. In the sitting position, I was astride his lap, a very sexual position even with his clothes on. He held me out in front of him, his big hands on my bare shoulders, and he looked searchingly into my face.
'Jesus I've missed you lil man!' he said.
I smiled, flattered and a little bashful. Tell the truth, I had really missed him too.
'I wondered if I'd ever see you again,' I confessed, and I fiddled with my stiffie in my crotch, which was harder than ever after seeing Ciggy.
We looked into each other's eyes for a long few seconds, just appreciating the moment, each of us taking in the sight of the other. I was so horny for him, I rose up on my knees and pressed my hard little dick into his chest, hoping he was going to suck it or jack it for me. I held onto his head, for the moment savoring the exquisite pleasure of pressing my little erection into this gorgeous young man.
'Don't,' said Ciggy.
I sank back down onto his lap, crestfallen.
'You don't wanna play with me?'
'No, there isn't time,' he said, ignoring my dickie which was straining upwards, begging for his ministrations.
'But you paid all that money,' I said.
He smiled.
'It was worth it just to see you again,' he replied.
'But why did you want to meet in here?' I asked, 'Why not in the club like before?'
'I'm incognito,' he said, 'I can't let anyone see me here. They're looking for me.'
'Who?'
'Everybody,' he said, with a vague, expansive gesture, throwing his hands up.
'What do you mean everybody?' I asked, confused.
'Everybody,' he reiterated, 'the police, the UN, the VLA, everybody.'
The VLA was the Verolino Liberation Army, the nationalist rebels, and sworn enemies of the KAPO militia.
'What did you do?' I demanded, unable to grasp why they would all be looking for him.
'Long story,' said Ciggy, dismissing my question, 'It doesn't matter, I just need you to listen to me.'
He looked serious. I nodded, making a real effort to concentrate.
'Listen carefully,' he said, holding me out in front of him, his hands now firmly around my wrists, holding them in his lap between us, 'I mustn't be seen with you. I'm sorry I can't stay. I only came to warn you.'
I lowered my eyebrows confused.
'UNVERO is finished,' he went on, 'The UN is pulling out. They're gonna abandon Verolino.'
'When?'
'I don't know when. I only know it's imminent. Could be tomorrow, could be next week.'
I didn't know what to say to that. Of course we had all half suspected that it could happen eventually, but somehow never thought it would.
'You're sure?' I asked him, searching for confirmation.
'Pretty sure,' he nodded, 'You've gotta get out Cloud.'
'How?' I asked, incredulous, unable to envisage ever escaping Verolino if it was attacked.
'When UNVERO pulls out, the rebels will move in. You gotta get to the airfield before they do. Do ya know how to get to the airfield?'
'I think so,' I replied, 'It's only six miles away.'
'That's right,' he said, 'All you need to do is make sure you get to the airfield before nightfall. That's when the last transporter takes off. I've arranged for us both to be on that plane.'
'But… how…?'
He shook his head, as if to dismiss my questions.
'Just be there,' he said, 'I'll be waitin' for you.'
I hesitated, unable to take in the magnitude of it all. Ciggy shook my wrists, as if to force my acquiescence.
'Promise me,' he demanded.
He stared at me intensely, seemingly pleading with me, willing me to accede to his request. I looked into his warm brown eyes and saw how much he wanted my agreement. At that moment he was so beautiful to me. He was so handsome, and I was so drawn to him, my heart just melted. I already knew what my answer was going to be.
'Okay,' I said, 'I promise.'
* * * * * *