"So tell me," I ask Julian as he feeds me turn by turn rolled pieces of ham, cherry tomatoes and olives, "How was Guinea?"

The crew had GPS connection my boyfriend had been able to send me short emails every now and then, even stuck in those wild forests, but they had always been very short notes of the type:

'Made it to the camp two days ago, can't believe a place could be so hot and humid, but I guess that's Africa for you. Other than that, this place is cool. You'd like it too. Wish you were here. Jules.'

or

'Got assailed by a battalion of ants yesterday, who proceeded to enter every part of my clothing and I do mean, EVERYwhere. I'm emotionally scarred for life. Interestingly, though, I learned that when one bites, they ALL simultaneously bite. Something to do with pheromones, am told. Don't wish it to your worst enemy. Kill all the ants you see, Xan, especially if they're home. Love you, Julian.'

and

'I'm thinking I need to get some French lessons at one point of these six month because communication with the local guys we hired has been rather tricky. I talk English, they speak French back to me, we laugh, and I am still none the wiser as to why we laugh, but it seems like the right thing to do. Who knows, they are probably hurling a plethora of abuse at me! Yesterday they tried convincing me that they eat raw rice; so not to be outdone, I too ate raw rice... I've been had. Don't laugh. Miss you lots, J.'

It seems like my boyfriend had been having quite a time in Guinea, if you ask me!

"Well, I didn't linger in Conakry, so I can't say about the city, except that the little I've seen is completely different from here; looks more like a remote, rural village with crowded, narrow streets... barely any buildings at all, at least none very tall. It's obviously a third-world country, poverty is more than evident -- filth and grubbiness everywhere on the streets and the walls; damaged pavements full of holes and counter tables on which people selling things, making impossible to walk on when cars aren't parked on them anyway; and the vehicles going around that are so wrecked that it seems incredible those pieces of rust on wheels are still working. All that is hallucinating, though, when you know all the resources Guinea holds underground -- lots of bauxite, lots of iron ore, and even some diamonds, gold and uranium...

"The forest part, though, is completely different. The landscapes we saw from the chopper are incredibly beautiful, very green and very wild; and then there were lots of creatures to see, monkeys and birds in particular. I took loads of pics, I'll download them on the computer so you can see everything."

"Sweet," I smile, before mechanically taking in my mouth the red cherry tomato that Julian has placed at my lips.

"Now tell me about your six weeks, Xander," he asks, rolling a piece of ham and biting into it while I finish munching my tomato. "What did you do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, really," I confess. "I've been a good boy, following my typical routine: went to work, went to my Spanish classes, missed the Wednesday one like I usually do, chilled out at Capricio with the boys from work, occasionally went to a bar with Josh and Rick..."

"How are they doing, by the way?"

"Oh, they're okay. Rick is dating this new chick, a model from what I gathered, and Josh is not getting any sleep, albeit for other reasons -- Collingan has been making them work even harder ever since they found out that the bacteria life they discovered on Mars actually came from Earth."

Had to say, we'd royally fucked up on this one -- the little robots we'd sent out on the Red Planet to look for traces of life had actually contaminated it with life itself. Besides the possibilities of not being able to identify Martian microscopic life anymore if we ever came across it, we were to blame for the risks and dangers that could spring from this contamination.

"Is there a chance that terrestrial bacteria has contaminated Titan too, with the things you've been sending there?" Julian asks. Titan, by the way, is the largest moon that Saturn possesses, and the celestial object that we are analyzing.

I slowly shake my head no. "It's possible, of course, but the conditions on Titan are a lot rougher than on Mars," I explain. "The temperature is extremely low and iced water is found only below 150 feet under the surface. Besides, those germs would have to survive seven years in space, bombarded with cosmic rays... If there's any life on Titan, it's hibernating at the moment."

"I thought you were telling me that if we ever had to move to another planet, it would be Titan rather than Mars," Julian frowns. "If bacteria life can develop better on the Red Planet that on one of Saturn's moon, I don't see how we would do better than them."

"That doesn't stop the fact that Titan actually resembles Earth a lot more than Mars does! Take the atmosphere, for example: Mars's is barely existent while Titan's is half more dense than ours; and there's oxygen. Not a lot on the surface, but it still is rather abundant in the form for ice. Titan might actually be what Earth used to be in the beginning: there's geological activity producing diverse gases and even the formation of nucleic acid -- as you know, the bricks of DNA making."

"Mmm," Julian hums, lazily combing his fingers in my hair and looking at me with a smile.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Winter?" I mischievously ask.

"Not at all, Mr. Siegel -- I simply like to hear you speak of things that interest you." He delicately pinches my nose between the first knuckles of his index and middle finger. "You still hungry?"

I actually take a second to feel my body's needs. "No, not really. You've fed me well," I tease.

"Ready for the next part of the afternoon?"

"Mmm," I acquiesce, closing my eyes. Actually, I feel sleepy, only fully agreeing to start on the next part of Julian's plans if it includes napping on his lap. I feel his fingers playing with my hair and his other hand rubbing my tummy. Kids are playing in the distance, their laughter carried by the wind that softly blows and makes the leaves rustle, and as they move, light and shadows dance on my face. Birds are singing, exchanging tweeting pleasantries, and crickets are making music with their legs. Everything is cool and calm. I feel myself falling asleep before I know it, although my mind remains completely aware of the world outside of me.

* * *

I wake up half an hour later, my eyes fluttering open to see my boyfriend's clear blue stare gazing down into mine.

"How are you feeling, baby?" His fingers are still tenderly combing my hair.

"Good!" I grin, leisurely stretching all the muscles of my body and feeling completely revitalized -- there's nothing like a nap to rejuvenate my body. I lift my head from his lap and lean on my elbows, shifting to a more comfortable position as my swollen organ strains in my jeans. Julian laughs at me.

"That's what you get for falling asleep on me, Mister!"

I roll my eyes. "What were you saying about the next part of the afternoon?" I ask, picking up where we had left as if there hadn't been a stretch of half an hour of silence. To me, they weren't even five minutes.

"You came with your car?"

"Nope, I took a cab. We're going back together anyway, aren't we?"

Julian grins at me for a moment, then hold his car key up and I instinctively open my hand as he drops them.

"I'll catch a cab home," he tells me.

"What?" I'm positive I misheard him.

"You take my car, I'm catching a cab," he repeats, turning away and packing up everything into the basket. I simply watch him, baffled, as he finishes clasping the last container and places it in the basket before standing up. "Can you move a second so I can take the blanket?" he asks.

"Don't tell me we're not hanging out together wherever this afternoon!" I demand totally bemused, slipping my shoes on before I rise to my feet and let him pick up the blanket. Somehow, I'm finding this idea completely laughable.

"I still have a few things to take care of," Julian answers, folding the blanket.

"Entertaining another lover?" I mock ask, rolling my eyes. Actually, I am beginning to worry -- my boyfriend seems to want to keep me away as not to have sex with me.

"There's no one else, Xander," he answers seriously. "You're everything I need." He drops the blanket on the basket and takes a step closer to me so that we are nearly touching, his fingers interlacing with mine. "I love you," he says, before covering my lips with his.

"I still think we ought to go back home together and have you fuck me silly," I inform him, whispering against his lips when we break the kiss.

"Tonight, I promise," Julian guarantees as he pulls away. He bends down to pick the blanket and the basket, retrieving from the latter a small envelope. "For you," he says. "Read it after I'm gone."

"What is it?" I ask before he rapidly pecks my lips and starts walking away.

"A love declaration," he grins, eyes sparkling. He's teasing.

"I can't believe you're leaving me here all by myself!" I holler at him. I really can't.

"You have my car key," he laughs back. "It's parked on the west side!"

He waves goodbye and I watch him leave till he disappears before placing my attention on the small envelope. It is white, blank, and not even sealed. No name on the back, either. I flip it open and pull out a rectangular piece of paper that has Julian's stylish handwriting scribbled on it:

'Ten reasons I love you: (--I can't help myself from grinning stupidly--)

1. I love the way you are always full of eagerness and interest
in anything you begin,
2. and I love your audacity when it comes to explore things

The clue on the index card will help you locate the next note
which will tell you why I love you the way I do.
All my Love,
Julian.

Aaawwwwww.

I am officially relieved. Julian can be so sweet -- sending me on a scavenger hunt to find all the reasons he loves me for... it's definitely cute.

My face still beaming with a wide grin, I look at the cream-colored index card. There are, at the center, numbers followed by letters printed on it:

And that's it.

Well... obviously, it's a code. One that requires, or allows, in the very least, both digits and letter... okay.

Maybe it's a password.

A password for what, though? Certainly not an email account one, and even less a bank account.

It looks vaguely familiar, though. I've seen codes like this one somewhere, I'm positive. 919.MIL. It definitely rings a bell although I can't remember what exactly. It's irritating too.

I turn the card over and pleasantly discover a street address written on the back and another note from Julian:

I chuckle. The street address is the library's and the code not a password: it's from the Dewey Decimal System -- it's a book that I need to find! Julian's making this too easy on me -- thanksfully, I need to add. I slip the note and the card back in the envelope and the envelope into my pocket as I start towards the west side of the park to where Julian has told me he has parked the car.

It takes me a little less than forty minutes to get to the library with all the traffic. No wonder my boyfriend had kept insisting I had to go to work: he had needed the time to lay the clues for the scavenger hunt! Again, I find it sweet, even if annoyingly so: it's really adorable for him to do this yet I'd rather have had sex with him. It's typically Julian, if you ask me.

I have my member card with me yet I doubt I will actually need to check the book out: I'm guessing Julian has slipped another note in the book rather than chosen a passage from it to clue me on the next note... or would he? The boy's capable of it! That would mean he's chosen a very specific book.

I look at the index card again. 919.MIL. Did Jules chose the books in the 900s because they're probably all gathered at the back of the library (hence making me lose time) or because he had a special book in mind? What do the 900s regroup in the Dewey Decimal system, anyway? Literature, maybe?

I look at the boards placed next to the shelves as I make my way in the library:
100s -- Psychology and Philosophy
200s -- Religion and Mythology
300s -- Social Sciences and Folklore
400s -- Languages and Grammar
500s -- Math and Science
600s -- Medicine and Technology
700s -- Arts and Recreation
800s -- Literature
and at last, 900s -- History and Geography

I smile to myself as I begin to guess why Julian has chosen a book in the 900s, and am happy to discover I am right. 919.MIL is the code number for the book Visit Australia. Another aww. I flip through the pages and find between them -- and incidentally, right at the passage the Olgas gorges are described -- a folded piece of paper. It reads:

I chuckle. Well, yes. We have agreed to let him take care of the cooking -- when I want to do something special, I usually order. Every now and then, nevertheless, I put my culinary skills to test again... I have not been very good with them, though, so it's very pleasing to hear that Julian appreciates my efforts regardless.

I place the paper in the white envelope with the other note and look at my next clue: it's a receipt. I can't remember leaving anything at the dry cleaning place, however, so I'm guessing Julian has. I grin. The boy has really been active this morning. I wonder if they will be finished with the clothes he's left, nonetheless. I guess there's only one way to know. This game is getting interesting.

I make it to the dry cleaning place in barely twenty-five minutes (I beat the traffic this time!) and present the ticket to one of the guys in charge. I think he's name is Jimmy. Or Jaimie. I usually do my own washing and rarely need to bring anything to this place so I can't remember.

"Ah, yes," he says. "The man left an envelope to go with it, I remember."

"6'1, blond, curly, sheep hair and blue eyes?" I ask.

Jimmy, or Jaimie, takes a second to remember. "Nnooo... more like brown hair and dark eyes," he answers. "And at least one inch shy of six feet."

I frown: that's not Julian's portrait. Who the hell left the envelope?

"Let me get you the clothes," the man tells me.

"Okay," I nod, although hesitatingly so.

A few moments later, he is back with the clothes. Or single piece of clothing actually. Not any piece of clothing, nonetheless -- it's a light, sandy-colored jacket with a large collar and big round buttons; one I had seen in a catalog and fallen in love with yet hadn't bought because they didn't have any left in the colors I wanted. Oh God. After the strawberries, Julian has managed to get me something else that I didn't think possible. "Love declaration," he'd said. He hadn't been teasing.

"Here, Mr. Siegel. The cleaning has already been paid for."

I nod as carefully take the jacket that is being handed to me. I can't believe it. My boyfriend is spoiling me. It makes me wonder what else he has in store for me. To think he's prepared this while he was in Guinea! Now I feel that my present for him -- a collection of music CDs from around the world with jazzy influences and that I personally hand-picked (Julian likes to hear music from other places) -- doesn't match up with his.

"Don't forget the envelope," the man's voice breaks my thoughts.

"Oh -- yes." I fold the jacket on my left arm and take the envelope. It's sealed this time. "Thanks." I leave the place with a beaming face.

I beep the doors open and get into the car, delicately placing the jacket on the passenger seat. I still have the envelope in my hands yet before I look at it, I decide to call Julian to thank him for his magnificent present. I wonder what he is doing. He said he still had things to take care of. Maybe he's cooking dinner. He loves to cook and he always does for special occasions. I have the sweetest and greatest boyfriend ever. One who seems pretty busy, too, because he takes ages to answer the phone.

"Hey Xan," he finally says when he picks up. A voice I hear in the background immediately quiets down.

"Hey," I croak. "You're with someone."

I meant to ask -- really. It came out as an accusation, however. Julian takes a moment to reply.

"You're okay, baby? Do you need anything?" he asks.

I, too, take a few seconds to answer: my boyfriend's evading my question.

"I wanted to thank you for the jacket," I say at last. I think my voice lacks of enthusiasm.

"Happy two year anniversary, Love," Julian answers more tenderly.

"Thanks...," I breathe. Then "Jules" I croak again.

"Yes, baby?"

I lick my lips. "I love you."

I hear Julian's warm and rich chuckles. "I love you too, Xander," he tells me.

"Who's with you?" I ask again, more softly this time.

"You really think I have another lover with me?" he asks back, amused.

"You tell me... you're behaving weirdly, Julian. Do you?"

"Hold on," he answers.

"Hey," another voice comes on the receiver.

"Cole?"

I put two and two together right then -- the mystery dark man who'd dropped the jacket and the envelope at the dry cleaning place had been my brother. I feel really silly now.

"Hey," I greet him. "You're helping Jules with this? What are you doing?"

"Keepin' an eye on your loverboy," he quips. I hear Julian "hey" him in the distance and Cole laughs. "He loves you, you know?"

I smile. "I can see that," I say.

"Then why are you scared?"

"Because," I rapidly answer before pausing. "I love him," I breathe at last.

Cole chuckles. "He says because he loves you," I hear him tell Julian who chuckles too.

"He's sweet," he says. Then louder: "I love you, Xan. You need to go on with the scavenger hunt, though."

"You heard your boyfriend," Cole tells me simply.

I chuckle. "Yes. And thanks for helping him, Cole."

"De nada, brother mio," he answers. "Take care."

"Bye Cole." And the conversation ends with a click.

I put my cell phone back in my pocket and look at the large, white envelope in my hands. I wonder where I will need to go next and swiftly rip it open.

Aaaawwwww. I think I'm going to be 'awwing' a lot if this continues. Julian really is sweet. I feel guilty for thinking he was entertaining another lover. I feel so scared of losing him now that I admitted to loving him! This likely means we need to talk again about our relationship, what we have and what we want. Tomorrow. Tonight, we'll have sweet tender sex -- or make love, actually. Yes, I grin to myself. We're going to make sweet tender love.

It takes me twenty minutes to get to Rose's, a nifty shop that sells candles and fake, though extremely real-looking flowers, among other things. Over one hour and a half have passed since we left the park, with Julian. Times flies when you're driving around the city.

The shop has a distinguish scent of sweet, flowery odorant wax because of all the candles. Candice loves the shop and I know from Cole that she often raids it -- and I've seen the many candles there are all over their apartment.

"A friend of mine said he's left a pack of candles he wants me pick up," I tell the shopkeeper, an elderly woman with grey hair, when I get to her desk.

"Mr. Siegel?" she asks.

"That's me," I grin.

"Here," she says, bending down. She lifts a brown paper bag into view and places it on the table. I can clearly see another white envelope peeking out and I peep in the bag. I can only see the candles neatly packed on top, large ones of different sizes and different hues of reds and dark pinks. Okay, definitely romantic.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask, pulling out my wallet. I pay the price, thank the woman and go back to car. I put the candle bag on the backseat and pull out the white envelope. As I take the folded note within, a small object falls on my lap. It's a key, flat and tiny. I seize it by its tag and read:

Hey, I know this key! It's his mailbox's. He gave it to me while he was away so I could get his mail. He probably took it back this morning, perhaps when I was sleeping because I hadn't noticed.

I open the note and smile as I read:

Aaawww. I grin and then I giggle. Julian's adorable.

I take my cell phone again and dial his number.

"Hey, Sexy," Jules answers as he picks up. "You're brother's still here so I can't entertain any other lover at the moment."

I feel my cheeks grow hot. "I'm sorry," I say. "I love you. I'm scared of losing you."

"I know," Julian's tone softens. "You're all I need, Xander."

"Thanks Jules. You too -- you're all I need."

"What can I do for you, baby?"

"I'm heading to your place to get the fourth clue... can I pass by and see you?"

"Already? You're ahead of time," he comments. "And no, you can't come in."

I look at my watch. It' 5:25. Julian really wants to keep me away.

"What are you preparing?" I grin.

"Nothing!" he quips. "You have the candles?"

"Yes."

"Great, leave them on my doorstep."

"On your doorstep?" I exclaim. "You could at least open the door! Or is Cole gone and you have your other lover there?"

I'm only teasing about the lover, this time, and Julian chuckles.

"Hey," I then hear Cole's voice back on the receiver. "You have no faith in your boyfriend, shame on you!"

"He doesn't want to see me," I quip back. "He won't open the door and take the candles."

"Who says we're even at his place?" Cole laughs.

"You're not?"

"Not tellin'."

"Please," I ask. "With a cherry on top."

"Nuh huh."

"Fine, be that way," I mock-pout.

"Go look for your next clue," Cole shoos me away.

I chuckle. "Okay. Bye bye. Tell Jules I love him."

Click.

I get to Jules's apartment in less than twenty minutes. It's ten to six. I wonder if I am still ahead of time. Julian's really made this scavenger hunt easy on me; the only thing that really takes time is driving from place to place. I fit the key into his mailbox's lock, turn it and open the door. There is another blank, nameless envelope, and I'm guessing it's for me, not him. It's open, too. There are two notes within.

I grin and place the note with the other ones. So sweet. I'm going to keep them all. Maybe Julian can even scrapbook them for me, even if he usually does pics, not notes.

I look at the other paper which is actually a beige transparent copying paper with scribbles and coloring from what I can distinguish, burned along the edges and corners, no kidding. I unfold it and discover a map -- a treasure map! -- of the park. Oh God! He's really spent time into this!

I take the candle bag I had put down before I forget and take the lift to Julian's apartment. He's taped another note on his door:

I guess that means he isn't home. I fish my keys out of my pocket and look for Julian's apartment's one.

There's a small gardening shovel in a plastic back on the table, as he'd said. I pick it, place the candles there and go back to the car.

And back to the park, back to the tree we picnicked under. That's where I have to begin, there's a black circle indicating it's the starting point. Then take forty steps towards the elm tree on the south-east side. Forty "Julian" steps or forty of my steps, I wonder. Julian's taller than me; he has longer legs and hence, takes bigger steps.

At length, I settle on "Julian" steps. So I take forty of them towards the elm tree before I turn to my right and take another twenty-five steps towards the water fountain. Ten more towards the large climbing rock there is in the middle of the park, and thirty-five last steps towards the pond. The red cross on the paper is marked by a short stick planted in the ground. I'm actually off by two steps on the right; thanks goodness Julian located the exact area or I would have been digging everywhere!

Actually, I wonder if I'm even allowed to dig at all. I don't think so.

I squat over the stick and pull it out of the ground. Carefully, I start digging with the shovel, placing the dark wet dirt in a neat pile so I can fill the hole back after. I don't need to dig that far down and very soon I find an aqua-blue square plastic food container. I dig a little around so I can take it out better, and before I even think to look at what's inside, I fill the hole back again, placing the lump of grass, roots still attached to the clod of earth, back in place.

I slip the shovel in the plastic bag again, next, and wipe the dirt off my hands on my jeans before seizing the blue box. I unclasp the lid.

I do need to mention I "awwed" again? I did.

I pick up the other item in the box: a black and red box of matches that comes from Capricio, a coffeeshop I like to hang out at as they have good hot chocolates. On the back, with a red gel pen, Julian's handwriting:

Does that mean he's going to come and pick me? I smile. I so badly want to kiss him. Kiss and then cuddle. And have sex, even if I can still feel a very slight tenderness down on my pucker. It's an agreeable feeling, nevertheless, and I can't wait to feel even sorer after Julian has his wicked ways with me. I devilishly grin to myself.

I pick up the box and the plastic bag and get back to the car. What a day, it's been! Julian's been a sweetheart. I still can't believe he prepared all this when he was still in Guinea! With my brother's help, apparently. I'll need to ask him later when he knew about this. He never let anything on!

I head to Capricio and arrive there at five to seven. I order a hot chocolate as I usually do and find myself a cozy place where to sit near the large window pane. The street is emptying a little at this time when the sky is darkening, although the traffic is getting denser. I watch people and cars pass by, drinking my hot chocolate sip by sip. I start getting restless after fifteen minutes, however, so I fish out my cell to call Julian. The phone rings yet no one picks up. I sigh and hang up after the twelfth ring.

"Mr. Alexander Siegel?" a clear loud voice asks.

I look up hearing my name. It's a young man near the door holding a large bouquet of red roses. Oh wow.

"Here," I answer, waving my hand and straightening.

Seeing me, the man approaches and hands me the bouquet. "I need you to sign here," he tell me, holding and a board and a pen.

"Thanks." I take the pen, sign, and give it back, grinning stupidly.

I lean down and breathe into the roses. There has to be at least two dozen of them. Till Julian, I had never known I enjoyed getting flowers. It's really silly. People -- women, especially -- ask you where the flowers come from when they see them. It's very flattering to say they're from your boyfriend.

There is another small white envelope attached to the bouquet and I open it, slipping the note out.

So that's where he and Cole had been hiding!

I don't waste a second and get back the car, my hot chocolate forgotten and abandoned on the table. It takes me a whole freakin' forty minutes to get back to my place because of the traffic, however. I fidget all the way, stealing glances at the roses on the passenger seat. They're a dark, deep red and beautiful. Julian has totally spoiled me.

Another note taped to the door awaits me when I get home.

Another trail?

Weren't we over with the game?

I fit the jagged key in the lock, turn the knob and open the door. A spray of red, pink and white petals flow away as I do and gently settle back to the floor again. Oh wow. There is a whole path of them that lead into the living room from which dim lights are glowing and soft music is playing.

Follow the trail, huh?

I close the door behind me and step over the petal track, on its edge -- it's too beautiful to be crushed -- and follow its path. Julian has lit the living room with candles and there are bunches of them everywhere, the tables, the mantelpiece, the shelves, and even down the hall to my room; a lot more than I actually bought. I continue and open the door, expecting to see a naked Julian laid on the bed sheets. He is not here, nonetheless, and the trail leads to the bathroom.

Again, candles are everywhere and the room glows with their beautiful, dim and flickering lights. The petal path ends right at the bathtub which is filled with warm water. More petals, mixed with small red and pink candle wax hearts, have been sprinkled on its still and transparent surface. At the center floats a large white, nacre-colored shell with a note cupped in it. I approach, place the roses down on the side of the tub and pick it with gentle fingers, the shell moving and drifting away from me.

The note is simple, Julian's handwriting in gold gel pen this time. There are only four little words:

I gasp and start as I feel arms closing around me and embrace me tightly. Lips kiss my nape and Julian's breath tickles my ear as he whispers:

"Please say you will."

The tone is soft and gentle.

I tilt my head back against his chest and peer into his water-colored gaze. I reach back and slip my hand on his nape, pressing him down. He leans and meets my lips, our tongues dancing and caressing.

"Yes," I breathe against his mouth when I break the kiss. I twist in his embrace, rise on the tip of my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. "Yes, I will," I whisper in his neck. "I love you."

"Thank you," Julian breathes back; he means thank you for loving me too, thank you for saying 'yes' and thank you for being you. I grin, kiss him in the neck, and rest my head on his chest, relishing in the loving tenderness of his tight embrace.

* * *

"I love the night sky," I comment as I gaze at the star-riddled ceiling of the bedroom. I remembered my fiancé's words about wanting to make love to me again under the moonlight, and, being the creative man that he is, Julian had placed a light projecting five, six and eight-pointed silver white stars on the ceiling.

Julian's dark blue eyes sparkles in the dim candle light as he grins.

"More fois gras ?" he asks as he reaches over to the plate on the bed for another small, square toast creamed with fois gras. He feeds me bites, and between them, offers me sweet, fresh and juicy green grapes to go with it, his fingers repeatedly grazing my lips as he does, their feathery caress absolute bliss on my mouth.

I cuddle closer, needing to feel his warm, naked body against mine. Julian had carried me to the bed and then proceeded to strip me entirely while kissing every part of uncovered skin, before he had removed his own clothing and laid beside me to feed me fois gras, grapes and white wine; a bowl of strawberries is on the nightstand, still untouched.

"I'm getting full," I tell him, refusing another bite of creamed toast. Julian eats it himself. "What's for dessert?" I ask mischievously, eyeing the red strawberries.

My fiancé looks at me with twinkling eyes and a wicked grin appears on his lips. "You are," he answers as rolls on top of me and kisses me in the neck. It tickles a little and I giggle, feeling my organ getting hard.

Julian rolls off again, pecks me on the lips and removes the plate of fois gras toasts and grapes from the bed, replacing it with the bowl of strawberries. I see he has a can of whipped cream and some chocolate sauce in a smaller bowl, too. Goody. I love strawberries and whipped cream. I watch my fiancé as he delicately takes one of the red fruits and covers its butt with cream then brings it to my lips. Again, his fingers graze my mouth and I let my tongue slide against them as I capture the red fruit. Julian's beautiful water-color gaze peers into my glimmering, chocolate one for a long moment before he takes another strawberry and covers it's butt with more whipped cream. This time instead, he brings it to his own mouth, looking deep into my eyes; seizing the fruit between his lips, he leans over and playfully feeds it to me this way.

I grin and carefully take the fruit from his lips as he drops it over my mouth.

"You're cute," I tell my fiancé. "Cute and sweet."

"Not as cute nor as sweet as you, lover boy," Julian grins back. He dips a strawberry in the chocolate sauce and traces a snaking line from chest to my belly button where he nestles the fruit. I giggle.

"It tickles," I say.

Jules rolls over me, keeping his body above me as leans down and licks the warm chocolate thread adorning my abs and chest. It tickles again and I giggle.

"You're too ticklish," Julian quietly laughs when he finishes licking off the chocolate. Then peering deep into my eyes, he lowers down on my navel and grazes his mouth around the strawberry on my belly button, his tongue darting out and leaving a trace of wet saliva. I bite my lip and gaze back at him, drinking in every detail as his beautiful mouth finally closes over the red fruit. Settling a large part of his weight on me, he slides his body against mine till he reaches my lips. I wrap my arms and legs around his slender yet well-toned frame, and delicately take the offered fruit into my mouth.

"You taste so sweet, I want to eat you," Julian hoarsely whispers in my ear, grinding his swelling shaft against mine.

"I'm all yours to do whatever you please with me," I tell him, my arms slipping on his back and caressing it. I place a peck in the crook where his neck and shoulder connect before chewing on the hot skin.

"All mine?" Julian repeats with mischief in his voice. "I remember promising to ravish you all night and I'm going to start this instant," he tells me with a kiss on my chest. "Your lovely, little pucker is going to get it," he adds with another peck, going down, "I bet it'll taste really sweet, too, with some whipped cream over it... maybe in it, too."

I laugh and splay my legs open, feeling my rosebud twitch with anticipation. "Anything your basest nature desires, Jules," I playfully reply with a grin. I have complete faith in my fiancé: he is too caring, too loving to cause me any real pain; we keep that a game.

For the briefest moment, Julian engulfs the dark colored head of my organ in his warm, wet mouth, and takes in part of the shaft, his flexible tongue flicking over my piercing and eliciting a whimpered moan from me as electric tingles flow from my tool. He's only teasing, though, and releases me all too soon, pecking his way down my member and over my hairless sac, which he lift up, to the dark crevice of my cheeks.

"You have the cutest button," he breathes against me, his hot breath tickling my twitching rosebud. He really believes it, too -- one crazy afternoon, he had insisted to photograph it. It had been last summer, in Hawaii. We had been lazing in bed after a morning of frenzied sex and Julian had seized his camera and made a series of photographs of me on the bed in what he called an "inviting" position, and closer ones of my parted cheeks and the exposed and delicate pucker between them. He had set five of them in a row frame that he had on the dresser. There were more in the bathroom. All very naughty. The more loving and tender ones were displayed in the rest of the apartment where indiscrete eyes wouldn't see anything that he deems belongs to his eyes only. Julian can be very possessive although it is never aggressively nor repressively so.

"Is it?" I ask in a soft voice. "In any case, only for you," I add.

The hunger in Julian's burning eyes deepens. "All for me," he repeats. "You make me so hot for you, Xander."

I grin. "I aim to please," I tell him, a glimmer twinkling in my gleaming eyes.

Jules places a gentle peck on my pucker then leans back and, reaching for a pillow, he lifts my hips and puts the soft pad beneath me. A second later, I feel his breath on my rosebud and a timid, wet tongue begins to lap around my still-sealed orifice, eliciting a quiet moan from my lips. I never resist a rim job; Julian is too skilled. His flexible tool licks me to the core of my being, forces through my ring and renders me a complete mess, the caress is so exquisite.

"I love to hear you groan," my fiancé huskily growls. He lightly nips at my rosebud a few times and has me whimper from the delicious pain. I love it when he grazes his whiskers on my pucker, too; he does it more rarely, nevertheless, as Julian usually keeps his face smooth and shaved.

"Can't help," I whimper, biting my lips. "Feels too good."

Julian flashes me a pearly, white grin. With the lusty glaze over his water-colored eyes, he looks... predatory.

"It's incredible to see how tight you've remained," he comments as he plays with my slick, saliva-coated orifice, his fingers warm, gooey, and sticky. I don't think it's lube.

"What are you using?" I half-ask, half-moan.

This time, my fiancé's grin really is wicked. "Chocolate," he says. "And very soon whipped cream. You're going to be lovely dessert to eat."

I can see his fiery desire burning in his water-colored eyes yet Julian remains caring and tender as he carefully slips a finger into my chute and coats the walls with chocolate. It feels different that normal lube. For one, it's delightfully warm; and then... it's sticky. It's pretty erotic, too. I can't help grinning widely.

Jules repeats the action, loosening me with the chocolate sauce. He licks my pucker every now and then as not to stain the pillow with the excess sauce around my lips. When he gets three fingers in me, he switches to the whipped cream; taking the can, he smoothly inserts the chocolate coated-tip through my ring and begins to squirt the cream it in me.

"It's cold!" I half yelp as the chilled cream begins to fill my chute.

"Sorry, babe," my fiancé laughs. He doesn't stop squeezing it into me, nevertheless.

"You aren't gonna use any other type of lube, are you?" I ask when he keeps going on and on.

"Nope," he grins. "Or... do you want me too?" he adds slightly more hesitant as he pauses, a spark of concern gleaming in his eyes. "I made the chocolate extremely buttery, if that's what you are afraid of, and the cream will add slickness to it."

I simply stare back into his mesmerizing, transparent, water-colored gaze, and smile. "I love you, Jules," I tell him tenderly. "I said you could have your wicked way with me."

Julian peers back into my eyes and lovingly grins back. He smoothly takes the tip of the whipped cream can out of me and, placing the container on the bedtable, he lies back atop of me and grazes his lips over mine, giving a soft, sweet, kiss, our tongues caressing and dancing together.

"Eleven," he whispers when we break apart.

I raise an inquiring eyebrow. "Eleven?" I repeat. Eleven what? "You're going to ravage me eleven times tonight?" I tease.

Julian delicately nuzzles my nose. "Eleven, I love the fact you have so complete faith in me. Sexually speaking," he adds after a second. "Did you really believe I had another lover with me?"

I feel my cheeks glowing as I avert my gaze. "Maybe...," I breathe. Then peering back into his beautiful eyes: "I love you, Jules. I so love you I hate the idea of you entertaining another lover; and I feel terrified of losing you."

My fiancé leans down and places a soft, warm peck on my lips. "I love you too, Xander. I need nobody else than you to make me feel complete. And I see no reason to look for another lover elsewhere; you are the sweetest and coolest guy ever, and the sex with you is always amazing -- you are my fiancé and my lover altogether."

I press Julian closer to me and playing with the hair on his nape, I burry face into the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Jules." Thank you for loving me so.

Julian caringly caresses my arms before he moves to my sides and strokes the legs that I have wrapped around him. His tumescent organ is gently throbbing against mine, fat and hot, the spearhead wet with warm precome.

"How does the cream feel?" he asks at length.

I keep my face buried. "It's different," I say. "It's cooler to begin with. Cool and... light, I guess. Not large, nor hard nor heavy as you are. Nothing ever compares to you," I add. He loves to hear that -- don't all men do?

I feel Julian crane his neck and lean even lower to nibble on me, making me tremble with thrill and desire. "Tell me how you feel when I'm in you," he hoarsely growls. "Tell me how I feel when I'm completely embedded in you."

I grin. My fiancé's voice is husky and dripping with lust. "You feel large -- massive," I correct; he really does feel that way, and a little ego-stroking doesn't harm. "So big it feels like you are reaching deep, deep into me, filling me completely. I feel full; my ring overpowered by the fatness of your organ. I love that feeling. I think that with anyone else I'd be feeling exposed and helpless, yet with you... I feel loved. I feel safe. It's okay if I can't physically stop you from ravaging me and having your wicked ways with me; because all I really need is a word -- a breath, a whimper -- and you will stop. I love you, and I love having you in me, filling me to the hilt, exquisitely throbbing against my walls, the caress of your member, whether savage or tender, always so delightful."

"You make me so hot for you, Xander," Julian hoarsely growls. He kisses me up the neck, tracing my jawbone with his tongue and nibbling on my chin.

"Please fuck me, Julian," I ask, twitching with the need of him in me.

My lover pulls away from me a brief second, dipping is fingers in the chocolate sauce and coating his tool with the dark liquid. Guiding the slick spearhead of his fat tool to my puckered orifice, he stretches on top of me, nuzzling my lips with the tip of his nose.

"Be gentle."

"Always," Julian whispers back as he pecks me. These three little words have practically become a ritual to the seconds that prelude to my penetration; there have only been a few rare times when, too carried away, I have forgotten to say them. I think I may have this morning.

We kiss a long moment before Julian begins to press in. I try to relax my ring, opening to accommodate the large head as it forces through me, wedging itself at the very tip of my rosebud. I tear my lips away from Julian's as the knot opens me, stretching me, feeling my lover's encouraging pecks on my exposed throat. There is a moment when my ring resists, refusing my fiancé entrance, and the stress on my pucker grows and strengthens as Jules perseveres to seek entry. His lips are all over my face, soft and loving as he tenderly caresses my sides and legs.

All at once, my ring yields and the spearhead breaches the protective barrier. Penetrating into the slick, wet heat of my tight chute, Julian groans and his breath tickles my ear. He bites his lower lip and stills his body, his breathing ragged as he lets me get used to the intrusion.

"You okay, sweetie?" he asks breathlessly. I can hear the hunger in his voice, the desire to keep pressing in and ram his member in me -- he's told me how hard it is at times to resist the heat of my chute and control his body's natural craving.

"Yes," I breathe, "It's been a while. It's okay." The pain is fading already. Besides, I'm still semi-hard. In the beginning, I would always go soft. I used to be exceedingly embarrassed even though Jules would repeatedly tell me he did not see it as anything to be ashamed of. He's so sweet.

"My adorable baby," Julian says as he kisses me on the neck. "I leave you a few weeks and you get as tight as you were when we met. You feel so good."

I nuzzle his jawbone and kiss his chin. "Make me feel good, too, Julian. Please press in."

Julian blatantly ignores my request, however. With his lips, he grazes the side of my neck, sending tiny waves of electric tingles through me, his arms caressing my sides and my legs; only then, and very leisurely, he forces a little of his member in me, repeatedly waiting for me to accommodate to his massive length, kissing my exposed throat and tracing my jawbone with his tongue.

"You feel so hot, baby," he groans as he still feeds more of his organ. I moan. I love the way he straightens my bowels, creating different pressures on my wall, the feeling so excruciatingly sweet that it becomes overwhelming, reinforced by the way that I feel, despite myself, completely helpless, my rosebud overpowered and incredibly stretched to accommodate my fiancé's massive length.

At length, Julian fills me to the hilt, his heavy balls squashed on my bottom and his pubic hair tickling my sac; and as always, I am pleased and full of pride to have him completely embedded in me. "You're in me," I tell him softly, my voice tinted with awe. I am rewarded with a tender French kiss. The gentle throb of his member feels like a pulsating caress. I think I've reached Heaven.

"I love you, Julian," I whisper when he breaks the kiss.

My fiancé flashes a pearly white grin at me. "I love you too, Xander baby."

He makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I smile and hesitantly clench my pucker around his fat organ, eliciting a raspy groan from his throat as he rocks his hips.

"Please, Xander," he moans. "Don't... you'll make me come too soon."

I grin and graze my lips his throat. "Okay, you set the pace, Jules," I breathe before chewing on his tender, golden skin. Usually, I prefer to be in charge -- at least in the beginning, when my fiancé has finished penetrating me: after Gregory, I had needed to get control back to appreciate sex again, and my (sweet, adorable and loving) fiancé had rapidly become aware of that -- even before me. So he lets me set the pace and do whatever I please, even when it's mercilessly teasing him (I'm a teaser, I discovered). He's not exactly a passive partner, nevertheless, and he often gets playful, rolling me onto my back and regaining control when I least expect it -- and he doesn't always let me back on top once he's got me pinned: his way of making me pay for the teasing, he says.

I'd been expecting him to ride me more enthusiastically than he is, yet my fiancé seems to want to take his time: the pace is measured and gentle, the caress of his organ very deliberate in the places he touches me. The chocolate and the whipped cream mixed together don't feel very different from lube anymore and he easily slips in and out of me. He regularly pauses, too, his tool embedded to the hilt and the silky caress of his hands everywhere on my body as he simply delights in the heat and tightness of my warm, wet chute, his lips on mine and everywhere else on my face and neck. I rapidly lose sense of everything, feeling too good to be aware of anything else that is not connected to my body, intoxicated with Julian's fresh, woody scent, the exquisite throbbing of his fat tool and his hard body pressed against me as he rocks me every now and then, the heavy, massive shaft moving in me, its gentle caress conveying all the love he has for me.

We last ages, it seems. After getting used to the tender rhythm of his rocking hips, I don't wish to hasten anymore; I'm fine with the mild caress of his tool in me, the angle changing every now and then and eliciting a soft moan from me. We can't keep our hands away from each other's body, roaming caringly as we kiss, lips grazing and tongues dancing together, or chewing lightly on each other's chin.

When I come at length, my orgasm is totally unexpected. I tense and hiss, feeling my balls contracting before my shaft spills its sticky seed, my embrace tightening around Jules as my ring fiercely clamps on his massive organ. My fiancé accelerates his grinding as the exquisitely painful tremors of my pucker drain me, and continues to buck against me, his shaft completely embedded in me, till I stop trembling and ferociously milking him.

Wavering between the realms of dream and reality, I sense my fiancé resume his gentle pace, his member softly press in and out. I sigh and begin to play with his hair, my eyes closed as I try to recuperate. I feel too exhausted to do anything, though, and let Jules be completely in charge, relishing in the good feelings of his delightfully tender fuck.

Half an hour later, I come again and as feverishly, even through my foggy state. This time, it triggers Jules's orgasm and he groans as he presses harder and faster in me, spewing repeatedly deep in me. His body ceases to tremble after a while and he relaxes in my embrace, placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

"I love you, Xander," he hoarsely whispers.

I lazily grin. "I love you too," I manage to breathe. "Stay in me, please. Let me fall asleep with you still in me."

I feel Julian kiss me on the neck. "Anything, baby. Sweet dreams and sleep tight."

* * *

I wake up feeling warm and cozy, pressed close against Jules's chest who is lightly caressing my legs, his lips grazing my nape and his fat, erect shaft embedded in me. I groan, arching my neck as his lips come closer to my ear, creating incredible electric tingles there.

"Hey baby," he greets me, whispering in my ear.

"Mmm mmm," I moan back, pressing myself even closer to him. I love waking that way, with him in me; makes me feel... cozy. Full. Complete.

Julian playfully nips my ear as he waits for me to wake up. His hand slips between my leg and he fingers the delicate spot between my pucker and my sac. I moan, arching my back. "Yess," I hiss, clenching my ring on the large organ pressed in me.

My fiancé groans as he mechanically shoves more of his huge, turgid tool in me and I grunt, my pucker clasping on the rough intruder.

"Xander!" he hoarsely growls accusing as he grabs my leg and stills me.

"Don't yell at me when you're in me," I hiss back through gritted teeth -- I feel already helpless as it is, and moreover mounted from the back. I briefly contemplate telling him to get off me, out of me, yet he apologizes before I can say anything:

"Please excuse me," he tells me, a soft, sweet peck on my nape. "I hate hurting you, it makes me angry with myself... I'm really sorry for taking it out on you of all people, though. Are you okay, Xan? Do you need me to pull out?"

I breathe in and gradually exhale before answering. "Help me relax," I finally say.

Jules obeys and gently pecks my nape again, tenderly roaming his left hand on my chest, caressing my abs, as the other plays with my hair.

"I can't always tell when you aren't completely in me Jules," I say after a moment. "Your length always feels totally embedded in me once you get six inches past my ring."

"Hence the reason I keep telling you to warn me before you clench your pucker," my lover tranquilly answers; I can't help feeling chided again, nevertheless.

"Don't pretend you don't love the feeling," I tersely retort.

"I do," Julian cooly admits. "The way my body always reacts attests it. I still care about hurting you, baby."

I tilt my head back and gaze over at him.

"I love you Xander," he tells me, carefully pressing me closer to his chest.

I relax and offer a timid smile. "Tell me you love me again."

Julian flashes me a pearly grin. "You are my everything, Xander, and I so love you." He leans down and placing his lips over mine, slips his tongue in my mouth and tenderly Frenches me.

"Come here, baby," he tells me when we finally break away, and we carefully roll over so we are seated -- me on him, high on his abs -- and not spooned anymore. This places me higher than him and for once, I appear taller. Julian catches the glimmer in my gleaming eyes and grins. "Wait till you slip entirely down my shaft," he teases, "You'll get a whole six inches shorter."

"Don't be that impatient," I jest back. "I still have to forgive you."

"Sorry for yelling at you," he softly apologizes again, sobering.

"I can't really call that yelling anymore," I answer.

"No baby, you were correct -- anything counts as yelling if said in any other way than lovingly while still in you. I know how helpless you can feel, especially when I ride you this way, from the back, and my reaction was completely inappropriate, and moreover as you weren't the one I was angered at. Please excuse me, Xander."

I peer into the clear water-colored eyes of my lover and, splaying my legs open, I relax my ring and force more of the large, tumescent member in me. "You're already all excused, Jules," I reply. My fiancé stares back into my chocolate eyes till I need to stop and accommodate to the extra inch I pressed into me. I think he sees the effort on my face because he leans closer and pecks me on the lips.

"Gentle, Xan," he tells me. "Don't harm yourself, baby."

"I feel okay," I tell him. I reach over the drawer for the lube, nonetheless: the gel has started wearing off and with a tool as large as my fiancé's, I can feel it straight away.

"Let me help," Julian offers as he reaches for the tube.

"I wanna feel you and wrap my hands around your massive shaft," I say with sparkling eyes, refusing to hand him the lube.

"Afraid I can't let you," my lover tells me and I raise an inquisitive eyebrow. "I'd hate to hurt you again because I can't keep hold of my body's reactions when you touch me and resist pressing into you, baby. Let me do it, please."

Put that way, I can't really refuse, can I?

"Okay," I relent. I lay back, resting my head on his shoulder and kiss him in the neck. Julian pecks me back on the cheek then takes the tube from my hand, uncaps it and squeezes the cool lube out. It's actually a water-based lotion, not a commercial brand: Jules prefers them to the latter as they make less mess to clean up later: he being as well-endowed as he is, he's always needed to use lots and lots of lube. What bothers him is that with all the lube, he feels like he is having sex with, I quote, a moist rag. Charming. I let him have his way with the lotion, provided that he used water-based one only, as I didn't want to be compared to a soggy piece of cloth.

Julian lifts my sac and I feel his other hand fondle the rest of his still exposed shaft, grazing my perineum as he does. I press my lips on his neck again and lightly begin to nibble on his skin, my breath hitching when his teasing digits trace my widely stretched ring, caressing the rim. I instinctively tighten my grasp on his organ and whimper in his neck.

"Sorry, baby," he apologizes as he removes his hand from me. I'm extremely sensitive and caressing me that way often triggers me to orgasm; which is okay if he is completely in me. The problem comes when he hasn't finished penetrating me as he will obviously react to my milking -- and possibly ram the rest of his fat, lengthy member in me before being able to regain control over his body.

He wraps his arms around me and presses me close to his chest. "I'm so hard for you," he whispers in my ear.

"And me for you," I tell him. I crane my head and seek for his lips with mine, tenderly grazing them and nibbling on them before the ringing of the phone rudely interrupts us.

"Pick it before it gets annoying," Julian sighs. He hates hearing a phone endlessly ring. "I bet it's your brother anyway."

"All the more reason not to," I say, picking up anyways: my brother would call again. "Yes, Cole?" I straight away ask, my tone exasperated.

"Hey baby bro," Cole's cheerful voice greets me back. "You and loverboy still in bed?"

I feel my cheeks growing hot. Have faith in my brother to embarrass me. "What do you want, Cole?" I ask.

"Hey, hey, now, is it a way to thank me for all the help I gave your other half to prepare his proposal?"

I bite my lower lip. "Thanks Cole -- I am grateful for that."

"He came to me a few days before he left for Africa," Cole goes on and I glance at Julian who is patiently waiting, his cheek against mine as he strokes my abs. "He really loves you, Xan."

"I love him too," I say, and I am rewarded with a soft peck on my neck.

"Then have faith he's not looking elsewhere!" Cole scolds me. "I've seen all the pics he's taken of you two having sex, and--"

"You let him see the pics where you and me have sex?" I sharply ask, looking back at Julian who is startled.

"He came into the room to help with the petals," my fiancé answers, his tone measured.

Oh, God. My gaze darts around the room, from frame to frame. Julian had taken loads of photographs -- a few amazingly esthetic and too many extremely graphic. I close my eyes and cover them with my hand. Cole's seen... everything. Not only every part (and a few in particular) of my anatomy in close-up -- he's also seen Julian and me... having sex. Me bottoming, taking Julian's fat length in me...

"Don't get mad, Xan," my brother tells me, exasperated, "Those photographs only attest of the fact that he is so completely in you and the sex you two have that he has no need to look elsewhere."

Cole pauses, expecting me to answer, yet I can't get any words out. He's seen me taking Julian. And now, my lover's large member feels all too present in me, fat and throbbing, massively filling me.

"Come on, Bro," Cole starts again. "Tell me how he proposed... he was still hesitating when I left -- did he place the ring in the shell or did he go down on his knee?"

Huh? My eyes fly open. Wait -- "Ring? What ring?" I can't hear Cole's response, however, as the phone is snatched away from my ear. "No, Jules!" I exclaim, reaching for the phone that he holds away from me. "There's a ring? Tell me!"

"Stop moving!" Julian yells back, dropping the phone down on the floor before I can grab it -- not that I really care about Cole anymore. He wraps his arms around my slender frame and presses me tightly against his chest, my arms locked in his embrace, keeping me still. "Don't move," he repeats more hoarsely, his warm breath tickling my ear. "Don't move."

I obey, letting him regain control over his body and repress the urge to roughly thrust into me. I can't help grinning, nevertheless, and mischievously ask: "You have a ring for me? Where is it? Why didn't you give it to me?" Then hit by a more upsetting thought: "You're not regretting proposing to me, are you?"

Julian takes a long second to reply. "No, baby," he groans. "Your brother's a pest for telling you, though." Then raising his voice: "I hope you heard that, Cole -- you're a pest!"

I laugh: a pest is what I usually call my brother. "Glad to see you finally agree with me," I quip.

Julian groans back inarticulate words and places a warm, moist kiss on my nape before carefully rolling me over, his shaft pressing in slightly as he does.

"What are you doing, Jules?" I ask as he pins me beneath him, despite it being obvious. "No, wait!" I exclaim as I feel him pull two inches out and whimper when he presses them back in. "Cole's still on the phone, he's gonna hear -- uhn! Julian, no-hn! ...Please-hn...!"

Julian pauses, placing more sweet kisses along my backbone and making me arch. "Hang up if you don't want to hear anything you don't want to hear, Cole," he clearly calls out, his husky voice dripping with desire. Then more quietly to me: "He'll hang up, baby. You may not want your brother to hear you, he doesn't want to hear you either."

I have no chance to respond, though, as my fiancé resumes the rocking of his hips, pressing more of his hard tool as he thrusts back deep into my chute, tracing a wet line from nape to my ear with his tongue.

"Yesss," I hiss. "Harder!" I try to press back against his impaling shaft yet still locked in his tight embrace, I cannot move at all. I feel Julian accelerate, nonetheless, very soon using his whole length which he forcefully rams into me, my ring feel on fire, ablaze with the delicious friction, all the nerves deep down my chute tingling like crazy, as I can do nothing else than groan and whimper, clenching my pucker as hard as I can. I can hear Julian's grunts and groans mixing with mine as he feverishly shoves his member back and forth, his lips on my ears and nape, kissing, licking, chewing.

I come fairly quickly and trigger Julian's orgasm, overpowered by the excess of fierce stimulations he's had since I woke up. His warm seed gushes out like a river deep in me as I spill mine on the sheets, and he holds me till our bodies finish trembling against each other. When I come back to reality, Julian his lavishly kiss me on my nape, back and shoulder.

"Are you okay, baby?" he softly asks me, the tone concerned and caring.

"Yes," I manage to breathe. I notice he is still impossibly hard, his throbbing tool deeply embedded down my chute and his arms still locking me in their embrace. "You ready to go again?" I ask breathlessly.

"I did promise to ravage you all today, as well," Julian teases. "I'm going to wear you out till you can't walk tomorrow. That way you'll have to stay in bed and I'll have my wicked way with you all over again."

I giggle, tilting my head back and asking for a kiss. "Make me come again, Love. Make me scream your name with ecstasy," I shamelessly ask.

"I promise," Julian swears with a kiss. "Later," he adds. "I can't come too soon again if I want to remain deep in you all day. Let me cool down some."

"I'd love that... to have you in me all day," I tell my fiancé. Julian's never remained embedded in me more than two or three hours and the possibility he's going to try aiming for longer really appeals to me.

"Let's eat," Julian offers out of the blue and I mechanically look at the time: it's already half past one. "I had some chicken salad prepared yesterday and we even have chocolate mousse for dessert."

"Ooo, chocolate mousse?" One of my favorite desserts. Along with chocolate pie and fudge and brownies and... anything that has a lot of chocolate.

I hear Julian's warm chuckles as he lightly nips my ear. "If we can make it to the kitchen," he replies.

We manage to slide off the bed, his tool still deeply embedded in me; walking is a lot trickier, especially as Julian's a lot taller than I am, and three or four inches actually slip out of me. Fortunately, the rest of his very lengthy member remains in my chute and we get to the kitchen, giggling like schoolboys, me on tiptoes and Jules pressing me tightly against him.

"Get the mousse out, too," Julian tells me when I take the chicken salad out of the fridge.

"How are we going to get the plates?" I ask as we manage to the island counter.

"Set these down and haul yourself up on the counter," he answers.

Another two or three inches glide out me as I do. Julian releases me from his embrace as I am now higher than he is, and opens the cupboards, pulling one plate out. He places it on the counter then pulls the side drawer open and takes out only one fork, knife, and dessert spoon.

"Are you planning on feeding me?" I ask.

"Uh uh," my fiancé acquiesces. He puts the silverware down on the single plate and closes the drawer. "Okay, sitting is going to be tricky, too," he says. "Wait a sec." He carefully snakes an arm around my belly then presses my back down with his other hand, raising my bottom at the same time and making still more of his shaft slip out. I patiently wait, nonetheless, as he maneuvers behind me, feeling the angle of penetration changing as he does.

"Okay, lean back, baby," he finally tells me. I do, gradually press back on his massive member, feeling every millimeter sink in deep as he helps me impale myself, wrapping his arms around me again. "There," he smiles when I'm sitting on his lap. "And we didn't even need to break away from each other," he adds cheerfully.

"Came close," I say. "How many inches slipped out? Nine?"

"Ten, actually." He lightly nips my ear, creating tingles on the ridges. "I feel famished," he says, "And you look damn appetizing."

I giggle and lean back, seeking his lips with mine.

"I feel ravenous too," I say when we break away. "Last evening's exercising was intense."

"You still had milk this morning," Julian replies as he reaches for the dish of chicken salad and starts filling up the plate.

"Milk?" I ask. "What milk? We didn't even get out of bed --" I let my sentence trail as I get aware of what he means. "That does not count as eating -- or drinking," I tell him, my cheek slightly flushing.

Julian chuckles. "Pure protein milk," he keeps on teasing, placing a moist kiss on my nape. "Can't say I don't take care of my baby."

"Whatever," I dismiss, still blushing. I look at the forkful of salad Julian is presenting me with and open my mouth.

Julian chuckles again yet keeps quiet, feeding himself a forkful too.

"I'd like that we each keep our apartments," I tell him when I swallow, speaking the words out loud as soon as the thought hit me. I know -- I get rash. I still, wondering if I've hurt my fiancé: maybe he was looking forward to sharing a place.

Julian takes a moment to answer. "I guess we don't really need to hasten into anything," he concedes.

"I like being able to change places, sleep over at yours a few days, then have you come here," I explain, rambling as I go on: "And then, I love both your apartment and mine, and I'd hate to let one of them go -- or even both: they both feel like home, you know? We're always together anyways, whether we come here or go over at your place: we sleep together, we wake up together, we have breakfast and dinner together, lunch when we can, half your clothes are here and half of mine at your place, we're --"

"I get what you mean, Xan," Julian broke in, placing his hand over mine, "and I totally agree. Letting go off one of our places won't change anything between you and me, except that we'll have less space. We don't need to let go one of our places..."

I grin, pleased that he did not take this badly. "Thanks, Jules. You're the sweetest," I tell him.

"Not as sweet as you, baby," he replies, pressing me close to his chest and leaning in to kiss me. His lips barely graze mine when the ringing of his cell phone starts.

"Leave it," I groan as he pulls away.

"Let me switch it off," he says, opening a drawer.

"What is your cell doing in there?" I ask, amused.

"I placed it there when I started cooking," Julian briefly explains. "Let me take Cole's call a second. What is it, Cole?"

I sigh. I deeply love my brother, yet there are days when I really hate him. Today being one of these days.

"He's perfectly fine, Cole," I hear Julian tell him. "No, we're eating... Don't you dare! ...No. No. No. Cole! Yes. You know I wouldn't. I know. Okay. We'll see you tomorrow. Bye. Damn you're brother can be a real pest!"

"I know," I say feebly.

"Hey, what's wrong, Xan?" Julian frowns.

"Cole..." I sigh.

"Your brother's always been a pest, baby. Usually he teases you, though, not me."

"Yes, he can be a pest," I agree. "Do you think he sees me... differently?"

"Differently?" my fiancé repeats.

"Now that he's seen the photographs," I explain. "The explicitly graphic ones..."

Julian lays his clear, transparent blue gaze on me, remaining impossibly quiet.

"I mean... he's seen... everything. How I bottom. How large you are and how I... take you in me." I had, dancing in my head, a specific, very intimate and up-close photograph Julian had taken of his huge member halfway in me, my ring extremely, exceedingly, obscenely stretched to accommodate the colossal shaft. Cole had to see me differently after seeing that.

I care about what Cole thinks of me. Always have. When I came out to him at fourteen, my greatest fears was that he would treat me differently. I was afraid he'd stop wanting me hanging with him and the rest of the gang, even if they were my friends too.

"Xander, baby, Cole's not... innocent : he knows we have sex. He always sees you and me together, getting affectionate and everything."

"So maybe he knows we have sex, Jules -- still, he's never seen... anything!"

Julian remains quiet again for a second. "Actually...," he begins.

I look back at him and frown. "Actually what?" I ask deliberately.

My fiancé sighs. "I don't believe Cole will care anymore if I tell you this," he says.

"Tell me what?" I ask.

"Cole's already seen 'everything' as you say," he answers.

My eyes widen. "He's seen you and me... having sex?"

"Remember the evening we hooked up in Adam's garden?"

Adam was my eldest brother.

"That was... ages ago, when we started dating," I frown.

"Yes, back then. Cole called me the day after, saying we needed to talk."

"He did? Why did you not tell me?"

"He asked me not to," he explains, his fingers playing with my hair. "Apparently, he and Candice had been in the garden too and..."

"Oh God," I moan, hiding my face in my hands. And they'd seen everything. "What did Cole tell you?" I ask, looking back expectantly at my fiancé.

"Well... he threatened to emasculate me and then feed my balls to the dogs."

I bite my lips then can't help laughing. "He did?"

My fiancé nods, kissing me below the ear on my neck. "Seeing you bottoming... and taking a rather large shaft in you... may have bothered your brother," he goes on. "Because he cares," he rapidly adds. "For a moment, seeing the effort you had needed to take me in, he actually believed you were in pain when we got carried away. What Cole really wanted when he came, was to hear I'd treat you well; not do anything to harm you, emotionally and physically. Your brother deeply cares, Xan, and he sees you the way he always has -- as the baby bro he loves teasing and being a pest to; and that's not going change any time soon."

I gaze at Julian, remaining quiet as I ponder over my fiancé's revelations for a brief moment. I feel a less worried that Cole treat me differently, yet the discovery that he's seen me having sex... that's not anything you want your brother to see!

"Mousse, baby?" Julian's warm voice brings me back to the present. I mechanically open my mouth seeing the spoon before my lips.

"I love it," I tell him. It is sweet and creamy, deliciously chocolaty, wonderfully melting on my tongue.

"Thanks," he answers, peering down at me as caresses my belly then takes my length, his thumb tracing over my slit.

I bite my lower lip. "Oh, yes," I hiss. "Make love to me again, Julian." After six miserable weeks, my body can't seem to get enough of sex and I can't help myself from needing my fiancé deep in me, pounding his fat, fleshy length down my chute and rendering me a whimpering mess.

"When we finish the mousse, baby," he whispers back. "I'll bend you over the island and make you sing."

I grin. One of the places Julian loves to fuck me in is the kitchen, on the island -- whether I'm on my back or bent over.

"Promise?" I ask.

Julian quietly laughs, placing a spoonful of mousse at my lips. "I promise," he says. "You feel too tight and your embrace is too hot for me to resist fucking you, baby."

I take in the spoonful of mousse, letting it wonderfully melt in my mouth as he gently caresses my belly. I feel something hard against my tongue, however, and carefully pick it from my lips. Oh my God.

Oh my God, oh my God.

It's the ring -- a ring for my piercing, actually -- a beautiful, white golden ring with a real diamond.

Oh my God!

"I love you, Xander," Julian softly breathes at my ear again. "Will you marry me, baby?"

I lean my head back and with a hand on his nape, I press him down for a kiss. "Yes, I will -- I love you too, Julian."

My fiancé beams tightly wraps his arms around me, placing a soft sweet kiss on my lips. "Thank you, baby."

I grin, knowing he is good-naturedly teasing me, echoing my words when he, himself, had told me he loved me before leaving for Africa.

"What am I gonna do when people will ask to see the ring?" I wonder, looking at the golden object between my fingers, glittering in the sunlight.

I hear Julian's quiet laugh as he takes the piercing from me and delicately seizes my shaft. He carefully removes my other ring and replaces it with the engagement one, which is tricky to do as I am rock hard.

"It's really beautiful," I say when he finishes. I tilt my head back and peer into his amazing, mesmerizing water-colored pools as he lovingly gazes back. I feel so good in the warm and tender embrace of his arms as his hard, erect tool throbs deep in my chute. "Fuck me," I ask, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper.

Keeping his gaze locked with mine, Julian obliges: raising me on the tip of my toes, he very deliberately begins to sway his hips, playing with my rosebud and making me moan.

"You said you'd make me sing," I say, needing a harder fuck that that -- I want it deep, I want it hard, I want to scream his name in ecstasy.

Julian leans forwards and with one swift move, pushes away the plates and the food then bends me over the counter, kissing me on the nape. Very deliberately, he slips out an inch and carefully presses back in, repeatedly teasing me this way before he tenderly pulls all the way out, my ring popping as the massive spearhead is removed from my chute. His organ is barely kissing my puckered orifice when he brutally rams back in again, his member savagely caressing my prostate as he does, and I groan from the feeling as he ignites the sparks. He can't do this very often because I have to be completely loosened or else the pain is too great, yet when he can, and if I feel in the mood, he rarely hesitates to.

Again he plays with me, teasing me with half an inch and making me moan in protest. Julian can be a tease too, when he wants, and more so when he's been sex deprived; he's a lot more aggressive, too, and prefers to be charge, then.

"Please, Jules," I groan.

"'Please Jules' what?" he moans back.

"Ram it in me again," I shameless beg.

"Baby wants it hard?" he asks.

"Yesss," I hiss.

He remains still very gentle, nonetheless, as he begins to remove his shaft from me once again. "Baby wants to play rough?" he asks again, cautiously popping my ring with his massive knots before he shoves back forcefully.

"Uhn!"

"Again?" he goes on, very carefully pulling out.

I groan as he vehemently thrusts deep into me, my pucker burning with tingles this time. The lube has to be wearing out.

"Yes," I moan. "Give it to me."

My ring tightens with anticipation as Julian repeatedly pops my ring, and it clasps down on his fat length as he makes his fierce penetrations. My pucker rapidly gets sore at this rate, yet I bite my lips down: I know Julian is loving this and I want to make him come this way, which is soon going to happen seeing how I try to keep my rosebud clenched tight. With the lack of lube, I have gotten a lot hotter, and the friction, together with my ring's vain resistance, is making him crazy: he's shoving in me harder, aggressively, even.

"I'm getting close, baby," he hoarsely growls in my ear.

The sixty seconds that follow, nevertheless, seem endless as he keeps on popping my ring and ramming back in. At length he buries his colossal organ into me and spills a river deep, deep, in me. Although I haven't come, I feel my knees tremble from the effort of bearing with the sex and Julian who feels me go weak takes me from the counter like a rag doll against his chest and goes down to the floor with me.

"Thank you, Xan," he breathes.

I lick my lips. "What for?" I ask, out of breath.

"The sex. I know that one was for me more than for you," he says. "Are you not too sore?"

"No," I fib, biting my lower lip. It's not really painful -- I'm still too high and too hard for that. I'm rewarded with soft, loving pecks on my nape for my lie. "You're still hard," I remark, feeling his very erect length still deeply embedded in me.

Julian places two more tender pecks on me before he answers: "Six weeks, baby," he simply says. Then caressing my sides and wrapping his hand around my shaft, he asks: "Want me to take care of you?"

"No," I object, placing my hand over his and removing it. "Let me ride you."

We roll together so that Jules in lying on his back and I am sitting on his pony. I begin to rock my body, feeling the large tool stroke the inner walls of my chute and place more stress on my pucker as I loosen my ring even more on the colossal shaft. I love having my ring played with, tugged on and stretched to its limits -- and nothing compares to the way my fiancé's huge, tumescent member opens me wide: when he is in me, I feel full and complete; I feel loved, the caress of his massive length so intimate. I whimper as Julian's roaming hands awake thrilling little tingles on my arching back, which I can even feel in my tightening balls. He sits up and, wrapping me his arms, he begins to rock his hips, his chest tightly pressed against my back, his breathing on the side of my neck.

"Stop the teasing," he growls in a raspy voice. The way I love to move on his shaft, playing with my ring only, always drives him crazy.

He start jabbing more rapidly into me and I groan, feeling the delicious friction heat my ring as he plunges his enormous organ over and over into me. I tighten my embrace around his member, relishing in the way his the mass of his shaft overpowers my pucker. I can feel my balls begin to retract closer to my body and after another three thrusts, I whimper as my ring painfully clenches around Julian's length, triggering my fiancé's orgasm with its vice-grip.

When reality slowly seeps back into me, I am lying on my side. Spooned against me, Julian is leaving a trail of soft peck from my neck to my jaw, his hand stroking my arm. This time, even though his member still is partly embedded in me, it has started getting flaccid. I press back, trying to keep him in me.

"Little Tigger is ready to go again?" Julian playfully growls with a light nip at the base of my nape, grasping my hips and stilling them nevertheless. "You're insatiable!"

"Complaining?" I mischievously ask, my eyes sparkling with laughter. "You promised to ravage me all day, remember?"

"Mmm hmm," he hums affirmatively, placing more kisses on my neck. "Give me another two seconds and you're gonna get it. Marry me and I'll ravage you everyday, for the rest of your life."

"Promise?" I ask, tightening my grasp on his organ.

"Promise," he repeats, his member growing again in my chute as he seizes my tool and makes it swell.

I beam -- that's definitely a promise I can't wait to make him keep... everyday, for the rest of our lives.