Date: Sun, 4 Apr 2010 08:12:50 -0700 (PDT) From: Tim Stillman Subject: g/m incest "A Seaaon of Summer" A SEASON OF SUMMER By Timothy Stillman It was the season of summer. A beach on the coast of Maine. We were in love, under the summer sun yellow, like a painting of summer days. We lived there on the coast. His name was Joel, young he was in Golden hair and body of small and pale as he lay naked beside me on the beach on the coast of Maine in the season of summer. He was asleep now, hearing dreams, only he would know, dreams I say let them be you only take him away, only please return him to me. When his dream ends. He woke slowly, languorously, sleek and proud, like a kitten he kept hidden in himself, but allowed only me to see. He touched my arm and I sat, watching him. His penis was hard, his face, dreamy. His eyes, brown and big. He stroked himself, and was coral and pink and Joel. He leaned up and kissed me. I didn't think the world and I could ever be the same. In the presence of his smile, I was in the presence of the only boy who ever lived. In this season of summer, on the beach on the coast of Maine, we were in love and that made now. We were alone on our beach in the hot sun of yellow. I took his penis into my mouth, began to make love to him on the sandy beach.. Under the sun. He thrust himself into my mouth inside and was tenderly. He held my head, shoulders. He said love you, and he sighed and lay on his back, and said my name. We were alone in a summer day. I know now of minimalist means. It's the sheer bones below skin of lovely. It is his pale lips caressing and is about to come. His tongue reaches his lips. I hold him in my mouth and caresses balls gentle they are. He reaches to my chest painted nipples. I feel electricity through me, nothing would help but Joel. For our love had no fear in it. It was not a testament yesterday. But today. His hips scrunched down in the sand. He looked like he would jump his entire body into my mouth, as his penis began to melt, in a slow and easy way. The day was us. Perhaps you remember something like that. And the day review said, you are alive and love is yours. I took his penis out of my mouth and kissed his lips there, little guppy lips we called them, as he said wow; we laughed, and we, fell in the sand together, kissing and holding. I stroked his sun hair boy on the beach there. He asked me, will you love me forever? I said, oh, my darling, forever and endlessly. And on the beach on the coast of Maine, where summer shown at the last August blue, we primary colors, the members of the landscape, dressed, ready to go home and true. I put my hand, in his right back jeans pocket . He did me too. He asked me would he like school this year? I told them I would wait every day for him to come home, he said he would like that too. We stopped at an ice cream store on the way home, in a town of painterly blue. He got Double Dutch. I did too. And we walked hand-in-hand through the town, soon to flock with snowbirds, all the way from even Dublin town. At the street corner waiting for the stoplight., we kissed blithely like lovers apart in their hearts always do. There were no cars anywhere in the town the color of summer heart. Attributed gold, all around the corners, the window Sills, on the door frames in the land soon of snow and cold when warm hearts like ours protected each other in our home armored harbor, and love. He brought me a rose one fine day, my little prince, I held him. I hugged him, in our cottage, of gold and brown, blue shutters to close out the town. We had no shirts one as we walked home, the beach, not faraway. We licked our ice cream cones, as we ambled along, and he pulled into me, as I held him tightly, all the tomorrow's in his eyes. He put his arm around my back, as I kissed the top of his head, warm and hot, sun capturer, and done without a moment of thought, either of us, the sweet funny tawny boy beside me to stretch taller to next day, My love. My bed. My heart. He closed his eyes halfway, knowing I would discern the walk and keep him warm and free, in our painterly town somewhere in Maine of a long southern beach, belonging to us only, brother and brother, one older, one older, but only by slight degree. He giggled. His whole body did. He would never be ashamed, as was I., once. He had come to stay with me in the summer spree, but our parents, happy to be rid of both sons, reason not needed to say. Seagulls bright white overhead, high school pennants against the white clouds, and Joel said hi miss me? I looked down at him, smiled, which he always said to bring me around to ground again, when I had that faraway look in my eyes. He reached his hand to my cheek, smiled that little crinkly smile as he said, I'm so glad were brothers, we can neck at the stoplight in the hot afternoon downtown, and nobody thinks of it twice. I agreed , as we approached our house, not our fault it had a white picket fence. The air always smelled still of salt water, as we finished our cones, and ate the cups. Our house was blue shingled, as we walked without a word to the Shade tree swing, where we sat and finished our cups. Arm round each other, then he lay his head in my lap, and smiled devilishly. I had a wrong dream, he said, when we were on the beach. I stroked his gold hair and his long defining cheek. As well, as his prominent forehead and Golden was he in a city of love come to be known as we. I told him don't think about it. He said, I want you. To make love with you every single day in every way possible. I told him we have a lifetime for that. His face turned serious, and now unhappy mouth said, you won't like me when I'm older. I traced my finger around his chest . We were sleepy and lazy, products of a summer day almost come to an end. I smiled at him, put my finger to my lips and onto his, our signal of happiness and instant love and secret smile, when around people who demanded propriety. I told him that would never happen. He did not believe me then. I had fun proving it all the time. He once asked me about computer chat rooms and IMing. I told him, one thing to keep in mind, when the first question is asl, of course, don't tell them. Instead say, I'm going to save you 15 seconds of your life, and ditch myself, so you don't have to. Then you run away. He smiled and he laughed. He said, it's cruel. I said no, it's the truth. He touched my arms with his hands now as we sat in the swing gently going back and forth. He touched his nose, then he touched mine, and he leaned up, put his head against my chest. Do you remember your dream now? I ask my brother mine The air still at the aroma flowers writing on to saltwater smell. He got up and sat beside me and kissed my lips so hard, I fell backward, then he leaned on to me. He touched my nipples. Put his hand down my cut off jeans, as I eagerly was hardening in his hand, as he smiled seductively at me, as he masturbated me. I gnawed my lips and stretched my legs, as his hand soon caused an emptying of white come in my brother's warm, soft hand. He kept it there, he held it tightly. He would not let it go down. He put out his hand and touched my come, and insisted that I touch it too. He said let's go inside and smiled, that patented Joel smile. We walked , I somewhat unsteadily, as he held his arm round me, on a summer day, to our snug house, in his season of summer, on the corner of a painterly blue town, with the Sun shining yellow as could be, where tomorrow we would go once more and find the Sun in his heart all the time, my brother and me in a town on the coast of Maine, where the sunbirds rise often and always and forever would be. (to Joel---always)