Date: Tue, 3 Oct 2000 01:48:56 -0400 From: C. E. Jordan Subject: DENNIS 5 MY DENNIS 5: CONNECTION AND HEALING I can look up from where I am typing at my desk and see sitting on a long track across my bedroom wall, the train-set Dennis and I built together, one car still linked to another like my boy and I once were. And I can remember just when I realized, for the first time, the power of this special, impossible relationship. Although I write a lot about the particulars of our lovemaking, it was only one part of our relationship. And one day I may write something more expansive. But for now, looking back, I focus upon this element of our relationship because the power of our physical joining seems to me essential as symbol and as an expression of our total commitment to each other--in spite of whatever the world at large might think. Together and connected we were a complete world unto ourselves and didn't need anyone else. It was the second week-end we'd spent together in my new apartment. We'd had a busy time that day. Together we picked out a new Persian-type rug. And after grabbing a couple of burgers at MacDonalds, we were off again to get some stuff for the kitchen; a teapot, dishes, a microwave oven. I felt so good that day; D was making me laugh, and he was feeling important because he was helping me do this important thing. We took a break to play vid-games in a not too dumpy Times Square arcade. Later in the day after more shopping, we purchased a more satisfying meal in a nice resturant. I had salmon, a salad, and a 7-Up. D had steak...and salad...and icecream...and coke...and cheesecake. Umm...well, he **was** a swiftly growing boy. We returned home to my mostly empty apartment. I had no rug yet and the new furniture I'd bought the day before hadn't arrived. I guess the excitement of running around with me all day had D bouncing off the walls just a little bit, so we ended up throwing a red rubber ball back and forth at each other, across the long empty living room. Then teasing inivitably became wrestling. Wrestling became tickling. Our clothing dissappeared at some point and we were lost in each other's arms. Our bodies kept sliding around on the smooth, cool, floor. I was doing my favourite thing, holding Dennis, kissing him all over, moving from his forehead to his cute nose; from his full lips to his chin, then to his lips again. After munching on an earlobe and his tender neck, my mouth continued southward, brushing back and forth along the sweet center of his body, pausing at his belly button, then falling swiftly towards the swelling heat of Dennis's hard young cock. Again, it filled my mouth all the way--gently throbbing, hot and urgent. And once more, I was surprised at how natural this felt, as if this peculiar joining was somehow inevitable and right. D's slim hips rocked up and down as I sucked, he rolled from side to side on the hard floor--constantly moving until I thought his over-heated dick might melt like sweet milk-chocolate in my mouth--or perhaps, in my hands. Dennis's soft groaning sounded far away as the breath rushed from my boy's open mouth. D's orgasm raged through his flexing body and his fingernails dug ten tiny crescent shapes into my bare shoulders. It should have hurt, but this evidence of D's pleasure and intensity became just another texture of desire, testifying to the unremitting urgency of our hopeless lust to possess one other totally. Much later that night, as his hands roamed over my body, Dennis discovered those marks; he saw the beads of red outlining where his fingernails had broken my skin. "Ohh...you're bleeding...!" D was obviously shocked. He whispered, "I'm sorry...". I started to say 'don't worry about it' but I lost my ability to say anything because D's warm, wet mouth was suddenly pressed against my wounds...and I felt I was being healed somewhere deep inside, a hidden place where even he couldn't see the hurt--and for once, I was totally happy. ************more later************** Copyright C. E. Jordan