and-time-stood-still

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Subject: And time stood still In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at . Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contribution. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale. ———- AND TIME STOOD STILL by Marin Giustinian ———- Tollie Bay, close to Poolewe in the Highlands of Scotland, 1991 ———- Alexander Forsyth returned to his cottage after filling up his roadster in Gairloch. He came inside and checked his answering machine. There was a message. “Hi Alex. Elena calling. Please give me a ring whenever you can. I’ve an important favour to ask of you concerning my son, Eros.” She still had that charming Greek accent, mused Alex to himself, wondering what kind of favour she wanted. As he was about to call back, he saw through the window a delivery van pulling to a stop in front of the gate. He opened his door. “Hello, Mr. Forsyth?” “That’s me…” “I’ve a big box here for you,” he said, opening the van…. “It wasn’t easy to find you, Sir.” “But you found me!” he replied smiling. Then he looked at the box. “It’s my paraglider. Glad you got here!” “Hope you enjoy, Sir! Please, sign here.” Alex took the box and headed to the cottage. The young delivery man jumped back into his van and disappeared, speeding back up the long, narrow road, to the highway. ———- Alexander Forsyth, 61, was a successful writer and philosopher, living in a converted farmer’s cottage on the shores of Loch Maree in the Highlands. He and Janice, his ex-wife, had left London years back to change their lives. Alex fell in love with the old cottage and especially its location at the foot of the loch. He bought it. Over the years, he and sometimes Janice fixed it up, turning it into a very comfortable home for two. He was glad to have left London. He despised the social competition and the Londonian literary circles in general. He needed nature and simple beauty in order to think and write at his best. However, for Janice, their secluded life became unbearable! She never really accepted living with Alex twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He was always absorbed with his work. Her only work was keeping house, cooking and trying to be sexy. The fact that she couldn’t have children didn’t help either. After twenty-two years of marriage, she finally left, and they divorced. He began to enjoy cooking and keeping a very tidy house. In fact, he was relieved, free, and basically happy. Above all, he loved indulging in his favourite sport: paragliding. The weather permitting, he flew to his heart’s content in the ever-changing enchantment of the surrounding hills and mountains. With Janice out of the way, his life had definitely changed for the better. ———- He dumped the big box in the living room and returned to the phone. He dialed Elena’s number. Her phone rang five times before she answered, “Hello.” “Alex speaking.” “Alex! I was waiting for your call.” “How are you, Elena, how are things in London?” “London is London — as usual. As for me, I’m wonderfully fine, Alex… and you?” “Fine too. Tell me, what’s going on with Eros? What kind of favour do you need?” “I’ll try to be brief. First of all, you must know that there’s a new man in my life. After losing your brother, I thought I could never fall in love again. He was so wonderful… Well, after being the perfect widow for the past five years, my grief is finally over and a new life is beginning.” “I’m really glad for you, Elena, but what about Eros?” “That’s what I’m getting around to. You haven’t seen him since the funeral. He was just a little twelve year old then, struggling with his hormones, and, as you saw, completely shocked by his father’s death. He’s now seventeen, and has grown into a delicate, becoming young man… still mixed up about nearly everything, but especially about the idea of having a new man in our lives.” “Understandable…” “So to get to the point, could he come spend July with you up there in the Highlands?” Alex swallowed. “Alex, you still there? Hello!” “I’m still here. Go on.” Well, he needs a man to help him finish growing up. I’ve been the most devoted mother you can imagine, but there comes a time when a boy needs a man’s presence… at least that’s what we Greeks believe… and I do believe it.” Alex slowly replied, “I’m flattered that you think of me, Elena, but you know, I’ve never had a son… and this summer, I’m not yet…” She interrupted. “Alex, I’ve never imposed your ONLY nephew on you before, but you need to know that he admires you. He’s read every one of your books. He collects the articles he finds concerning your work. Please, do me — and him that favour. Tad and I plan to go on our honeymoon in July. We’ll be in Greece for a month. I’m scared at the idea of Eros staying all by himself in our flat for a month, and as you know, London is full of all kinds of dangers for a teenager…” Alex remained silent. “So, please, Alex. Think about it and call me whenever you’ve made up your mind.” “Could you send me a photo of Eros? I’d like to look at him while I think about all this. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve made up my mind.” “I’ve a photo taken last month. I’ll post it this afternoon! Think about him, Alex, and thanks Alex, from the depth of my heart!” “You’re asking a lot, Elena, but I must say you’re a very persuasive woman. I call you back. I promise.” “If you could call around 6:00 PM, that would be brilliant. Eros is always home by then. If you decide to refuse him, just tell me, and that’ll be it. I haven’t said anything to him yet about all this. BUT, if you decide to welcome him, I’ll let you work it out together, you know, between men, without Mummy pulling the strings.” “Okay, Elena.” “Thank you again, Alex.” “Take care.” He hung up the phone and poured himself a stiff whisky. ———- Elena was the head costume seamstress at Covent Gardens. She had immigrated to London from the Greek island of Rhodes. She started off working as a simple costume seamstress in the famous London theatre. That’s where she met Jordan Forsyth, the lighting designer, Alex’s brother. Three years later they were married with a baby boy in the cradle. They gave him the name of Eros, the Greek god of love. Jordon was close to his assistants, sometimes climbing with them into the rig to put his final touch on the projectors hanging over stage. One terrible morning, he was alone, on a ladder, adjusting a side projector, when he lost balance. He grabbed the cable, dangled an instant in mid-air, then fell. With him came the projector, bashing his skull, smashing his face. He was found dead, in a pool of blood. ———- Alex unpacked his new wing, still wondering how he could entertain a seventeen year old lad having lived all his life in London. He must be an unbearable city brat. Would he want to hike, help around the house, and, of course, fly? He wondered how much his father’s accident still affected him. July was six weeks away, so he had time to rearrange some furniture and fix up the guest room, but he couldn’t see himself cleaning up behind a lazy teen, probably with scraggly whiskers, acne, and stinky feet. All those thoughts and many others spun tipsy-turvy in his mind as he examined his brand new flight equipment. “I’ll test this out tomorrow, clear my head!” he said to himself. Like many people living alone he often talked to himself. ———- His new paraglider was more than he had hoped for. The wing responded to the slightest pull of the controls. The musical hum of the lines, taught in the swirling wind, as he soared, exposed to the elements, was more than just a thrill. It was a prayer, a connection. He landed, folded the wing, and took a moment to relax. His head was clear again. He opened the top of his roadster and leaned back. Then it dawned on him again that he still had a decision to make concerning his nephew’s visit. “Shit! Why am I acting like an old fart?” he said to himself, “I only need to see his picture in order to recognise him in the airport and not make up my mind…” On his way back home, he stopped for some groceries at the local village store. “Mary, I might be having my teenage nephew in for a month in July. Could you recommend a cleaning woman to come over, let’s say twice a week, tidy up and do the ironing?” “I’ll see what I can do, Alex,” he replied, “July’s a busy period, you know.” ———- The following day, Elena’s letter arrived. He tore it open and looked at the stunning portrait of his nephew. There before his eyes was the gorgeous face of a dark haired ephebe, an Adonis from Olympus, looking straight back at him. “Good God! How did my little brother engender that? He’s way more beautiful than either of his parents! Mysterious genes in there somewhere!” he mused, halfway laughing. “I guess I’m glad he’ll come. I’m realising now that the cottage could use some youth after all… and me too,” he said to himself, happy to have given the problem ample thought, especially concerning the old fart! For the time being, he poured himself a glass of wine and turned up the volume of his favourite concerto of Vivaldi on the hi-fi. In the living room he had a twin set of Voltaire armchairs facing the fireplace. He always sat in the one on the right. The other one had been empty since Janice left. He lit a fire, sat, and took another long look at the photo. “Beauty is a dangerous thing,” he uttered to himself, “but, I must admit, he is terribly becoming. Maybe he won’t be too cumbersome after all.” ———- A day later, at six on the dot, he rang up Elena. “Hello” “Good evening, Elena. Could you pass me Eros, please?” “With great pleasure, Alex! Thank you! I’ll call him.” Alex heard her shout out, “Eros, it’s your Uncle Alex on the phone. He wants to speak with you.” “Here he is, Alex.” “Uncle Alex? What a surprise!” “Listen, mate, I was just thinking, if you’re free in July, would you fancy coming up for a visit here in the Highlands? I thought it was high time we got to know each other. After all, you are my only nephew, Ha!” “Wow! Yes, of course, I’d love to come! Hold on and let me ask my Mum.” Alex could hear mumbling and then laughter, followed by a very distinct “Whoopi!” “Hello, Uncle Alex, she said yes and she’s paying for the plane ticket!” “Great! We’ll write each other directly. I’ll send you the details of your stay and the dates of the flight I’d like you to take so I can pick you up in Inverness.” “Mum said she’d cover my expenses.” “Out of the question! You’re my guest. By the way, would you like to do some tandem paragliding with me? Sport flying is my favourite activity.” “Wow! Nothing could please me more! I’ve always dreamt of flying! Peter Pan was my favourite book until I was fourteen.” “It’s still one of my favourites, Eros!” “Really? I don’t believe you! By the way, I love your books.” “As much as Peter Pan?” “Are teasing me?” “Of course I am. Let me speak with your mother again. Bye, and take care!” “Bye…” he escort laid down the phone receiver and shouted, “Mum, Uncle Alex wants to speak with you again.” “Elena, we’ve come to an agreement!” “Thank you so much, Alex! Eros is one happy lad! And I’m even happier. You’re a saint!” “I don’t know about the saint business. All I know is that I’m crossing my fingers, hoping that everything works out fine for the both of us.” “There’s no reason it shouldn’t, Alex. He’s got some of your blood in him after all.” “That’s not a reason, Elena! Listen, you pay for the plane, the rest of your son’s expenses are on me! If there’s anything else you need to know, just call. Okay?” “Okay. You’re great! Bye-bye…” “Good-bye, Elena.” ———- As usual, the delights of spring turned into the pleasures of summer. Alex ordered a tandem harness for his new paraglider wing. He was relieved when Mary told him she had found a cleaning lady for them in July. Taking his time, he actually enjoyed rehabilitating the guest room which had, over the years, become a sort of junk collector. Eros and Alex exchanged several letters concerning his stay. He agreed to the house rules, promised to bring warm clothing, in spite of the summer, help around the house and grounds, etc. Eros’s day of arrival was suddenly there. His flight to Inverness was expected at 3:00 PM. Alex was somewhat nervous during the nearly two hours drive to the airport. He parked just in time and waited at the arrivals exit, trying to look as dignified as a sixty-some year old uncle should look for a teenage nephew he hardly knew. Eros came through the door and stopped. He was dressed in jeans with a simple, white shirt and a casual, cotton cardigan. Alex waved. Eros saw him. The boy flashed a beaming smile and hurried over to him, with one bag bouncing on his back and the other in tow. He was just as nervous as Alex. They shook hands. It was an awkward, if not stupid moment when neither knew what to say. Then Alex stuttered, “Welcome to the Highlands… How was your flight?” “Fine… Uh…” and then he bursted out, “Oh Uncle Alex! I’m really glad to be here! Thank you for inviting me.” “I’m glad you’re here too… Do you need to stop off at the toilet or anything? If not, we’ll leave now… My car’s in the parking lot.” “Yes, I’ve got to ring up my Mum. If I didn’t she’d kill me. You know how she is… Sometimes, Greek mothers can be tyrannical.” Alex chuckled. They found a public phone. Eros put his card in and dialled. “Hello, Mum… Great! Uncle Alex is standing here beside me… He’s fine… I shall… Good-bye and don’t worry… Please don’t call all the time. I’m on holidays!… Yes, I shall… I love you too… Good-bye.” He hung up, saying, “Mum sends you her love.” “That’s very kind of her…” “Let’s go, Uncle Alex, now that I’m free!” As they put his bags in the boot, Eros commented, “That’s a really dapper roadster you have, Uncle Alex!” “Glad you like it. Pity it’s drizzling, otherwise we’d ride with the top down.” They got in. Alex started the motor, then asked, “Vivaldi or Mozart?” “Excuse me?” “I love to drive in music. What do you prefer? I’ve a cassette of Vivaldi and another of Mozart.” “Uh… I don’t know… As you like.” “Then Vivaldi it will be.” As they sped along, the windscreen wipers seemed to beat the rhythm with the Four Seasons accompanying them. Eros inquired, “What’s the name of that piece?” “It’s Vivaldi’s concerto in E major, Opus 8, otherwise known as the Four Seasons. This movement is called Springtime. Do you like it?” “I love it, Uncle Alex!” “Please call me Alex. It’s shorter that way!” “Okay, Alex!” An hour or so later, they began the slope down to Kinlochewe and the vast Loch Maree. Eros was entranced by the light of the sun forcing its way through the clouds. Its impressive beams created dancing rainbows on the water. Little was said. In fact, there was no need to speak. The charm was there. Right from the start they both felt it. The cottage too impressed Eros. When they went inside, Alex showed Eros his room. Then in the kitchen he asked, “Coffee or tea?” “What are you having?” “Coffee, strangely enough, I don’t like tea.” “I’ll have coffee then too, thank you.” ———- It just so happened that Eros’s beauty wasn’t at all dangerous. He was quite easy to live with. His room pleased him. He loved tending to the fire. They often spoke of everything and nothing, trivialities and deep philosophy, late into the night. The hunger of his mind increased as the days went by. No television and very little radio deviated his attention. He enjoyed the simple pleasures of cooking a slow succulent meal with Alex, or dreaming alone, fascinated by a raindrop sliding down a window pane. During the first few days, the weather outside was dreadful. The horizon was shrouded by an endless cortege of Atlantic mist, but that didn’t dampen Eros’s mood. He respected Alex’s schedule, beginning the day at seven with a full Scottish breakfast. Until noon, Alex worked on his latest essay and Eros took time for himself. He appreciated running in the rain, then taking his time in the vast bathroom under an open rain shower, steaming with abundant hot water. He spent delicious hours browsing in Alex’s library, thumbing through the many art books Alex had collected over the years. Also, there were a few volumes of rather explicit nude photography, both male and female, that helped his hormones stay in tune. And then came the big discovery: an illustrated edition of Plato’s Symposium. That evening Eros brought up the subject. He showed Alex the book and asked, “Can I take this book up to my room to study more? I’d like to attentively read these dialogues.” Alex smiled at his nephew and replied, “Really? Are you that interested in philosophy?” “Yes, I am! I began reading the Symposium this morning and I found that it talks about love in a really different way. With Mum, we’ve discussed some about love, but she only mentioned boys with girls, marriage, and all that ordinary stuff… never the rest.” “You mean homosexual love, don’t you?” “That’s what the Symposium is all about, isn’t it?” “Have you already experienced sex?” Eros was surprised by such a blunt question. He coughed a bit, twisting in his armchair, and replied, still looking in the fire, “No.” “Not even with your hand?” remarked Alex, smiling. “Does that count?” “To a certain extent, yes… if you love yourself, jerking off is a form of sex, homosexual sex. We all start that way, don’t we?” “I never thought about it that way… Loving myself…” “Well, I think it’s great you want to study the Symposium. Take the Phaedrus up with you too. They go together. Those texts are among the greatest classics in world literature, and as for Socratic philosophy, it’s one of the keystones of western thought.” “Interesting…” Eros seemed to be a bit lost in thought, then he yawned. “I hope you’re not too bored here, Eros.” “Oh, not at all!” “As you know, I’m a loner. I love my work. When I’m by myself, I’m not in bad company… and that’s fine for a man my age. For a young fellow like you… out here, away from the city and all, in the rain… it could be boring beyond words… I’ve never been good at entertaining.” Eros blurted out, “I’m never bored here! I’m a loner too and I hope I’ll grow up to be like you, Alex. Don’t worry! Just admiring you is enough entertainment for me!” “You’ll grow the way you decide to grow, Eros. You are now at the age of becoming the author of your own aims in life!” “Did Socrates say that? Ha!” “No! I did. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go up to bed and leave you with Plato and the fire.” “I’ll be fine! Good night, see you tomorrow… and thanks for everything.” ———- Two days later, after dinner, they settled down again in front of the fire with their usual glass of wine each. “I’ve finished reading the Symposium and Phaedrus. I’d like for you to tell me more about how the Greeks considered sex between men. I’m not used to that kind of behaviour being so openly discussed as if being in love with another man was normal. Mind you, I’m not against it. Everybody has a right to choose what they like… but… you know… so, whatever! Could you explain?” “In Athens, at the time of Socrates, it was considered natural that a young man, in the upper classes, be guided by a mentor, an initiator, so to speak, to accompany him, teach him the ways of the world, and love him, body and soul. The chosen lad was called in Greek, Eromenos, meaning more or less, ‘beloved’ and his mentor was called ‘Eraste’, or ‘lover’, and sex was the guarantee of their bonding,” explained Alex, taking a sip of his wine. “Really interesting… I know that I’m named after the pagan god of love, Eros… So, Eromenos, Eraste, is there something religious about that kind of sex?” “I don’t know if there was anything religious involved. All I know is that their relationship was highly respected as a part of their culture.” Obviously intrigued, Eros thought about that before replying, “I see. But what about their fathers?” “Often it was the father who chose the Eraste for his son.” “And could an Eraste be in any way kin to his Eromenos?” “I don’t know, but other than his father, why not? Maybe it could be a big brother, or…” “An uncle for instance!” blurted Eros, interrupting. Alex suddenly felt strangely uncomfortable. “Well, maybe yes… I really don’t know enough about that to give you an honest answer. Why don’t we talk about something else? The forecast on the radio said we’ll have sun tomorrow. Would you like to go flying with me?” “Good God, YES!” ———- The following morning, the sun slowly rose in a cloudless, blue sky. The entire universe glistened with dew. Eros stretched, in front of his open window. His morning erection was still cramped in his pyjamas. On his way to the toilet, he smelt the luscious scent of breakfast floating up the stairs. Eros was starved, as usual. “Good morning, handsome! It’s going to be a hot day outside…Well, as hot as possible as it gets up here, in the Highlands! Ha!” “I’m really glad! At last we can fly!” Eros gulped down the orange juice and smiled at Alex as he served the plates, saying, “Are you really sure you want to risk it?” “More than ever! Do we have to go far?” “Not too far. This afternoon, we’ll hike from the cottage up the road and then take the path that goes to Slatterdale. It’ll take us about forty-five minutes to get to the jump off.” “Jump off… that’s scary! I can’t wait!” “And until then, what are your plans for this morning?” “I’m going for a walk along the shore. What we talked about last night is still on my mind.” “Walking is a good way to think.” ———- As they were climbing the path, Alex began explaining the flight. “We’ll have to pull the wing until it catches the air. That means we’ll run together, spooned back to belly until the lift off. That usually takes just a few seconds. It’s really not that complicated. We’ll practice some before spreading the wing.” Once they were standing on the slope bordering the cliff, Alex had Eros side up to him. “First of all, to find our rhythm together, I’ll take you by the waist, like this.” He pulled Eros in close, and invited him to hold him the same way, izmit escort bayan facing downhill. “Fine! Now, hold on tight and start with your left foot. Let’s run!” and off they went. Of course, for a first time, it didn’t work. Eros’s right foot hooked Alex’s left and they tumbled, rolling together in the grass. Laughing, they stood, brushed off, and climbed back uphill. “Sorry! I was just too tense,” apologised Eros. “Relax then and connect with my body. Let’s give it a second go.” Alex pulled him in really close and had them sway back and forth some until they were in rhythm. “One, two, three, go!” That time they were like tango dancers. “Stop!” shouted Alex, “that’s enough, you’ve got it! Now, get in front of me.” Eros was blushing like a schoolgirl as Alex hugged him from behind, pulling him against his chest and pelvis, snuggling up in complete contact. Eros could even feel the bulge of Alex’s penis against his buttocks — or, at least he thought he could… “One, two, three, go!” and off they ran like a single man, in total sync. Alex put his arm around Eros’s shoulder as they climbed back up the slope. “You did very well! Congratulations. This is going to be really easy! Great connection indeed!” Eros beamed! They spread the wing, put their helmets on, and harnessed up together. “Now remember, just relax in my lap and enjoy the flight.” In spite of Eros’s mixed emotions, the take-off was perfect. They flew into a thermal lift and circled, climbing as the landscape spread out beneath. The hills, the loch, the islands, gleaming in the afternoon sun, cast their silent spell. As they levelled off and began heading north, Alex released the handles and squirmed a bit, pulling Eros up by the inside of his thighs. “There, that’s a bit more comfortable for me…” Eros readjusted himself, relaxing in full contact with Alex, loving it like a babe in arms! Suddenly they swerved, rocking as they gathered speed. Eros was in ecstasy. He gripped Alex’s knees and shivered, laughing. In his excitement, he shot off in his underwear. Alex felt the little familiar jolts as Eros wiggled. He smiled, guessing what was happening. For the first time in decades, he felt a bond, riding the winds together, no longer alone. They landed on the grass in front of the cottage. Eros did nothing to conceal his very damp crotch. Something deep inside told him that Alex knew what he had experienced… So let it be! Gratitude swelled in his chest as he turned around and exclaimed, “Can I hug you? My life has changed. I can’t thank you enough!” Alex stiffened as Eros grabbed him in his arms, and then melted when he felt the kiss in his neck. ———- After the hike up and the flight down, they both needed a shower before beginning dinner. “I think it best that I take my shower first. That way I can get the meal started and you can take your time after me,” suggested Alex. “There’s room for the both of us in there, isn’t there? I’d like to help in the kitchen!” Alex hesitated, finding the idea a bit strange. Eros just looked at him with puppy eyes, tilting his head. Alex gave in. “Well, why not! I could use a good back wash anyway!” Eros was upstairs in a flash and already naked, regulating the water temperature when Alex came in. They were smiling like idiots as they slipped under the wide, ceiling shower. At first they stood back to back, soaping up, instinctively respecting each other’s privacy. Of course, their cocks were plumping up by the minute. “Eros, wash my back, please, and don’t spare scrubbing really hard!” Eros eagerly complied. “That feels great! Could you focus on the shoulders?” Eros stepped a bit closer. As he scrubbed, the tip of his now totally erect cock brushed Alex’s buttock. “How am I doing?” he asked. “You’re doing fine. This is really nice! Great idea you had!” he exclaimed, tossing his head back to let the steaming rain fall on his face and stream through his hair and beard. Eros stepped back, admiring the athletic back and buttocks of his uncle. He suddenly gasped as Alex turned around. His generous deep red glans was gleaming at the end of his very hard cock. “Turn around” he said, “it’s only fair that I return the favour!” As if entranced, Eros did as he was told and nearly swooned when Alex grabbed him and began to massage his shoulders with his strong, soapy hands. Holding him with one arm, he scrubbed the back and then the buttocks, without neglecting the cleft in between. Eros was in heaven, feeling things his body had never felt, sensations that made his heart throb. Alex then turned Eros around, saying, “Let’s finish up washing each other face to face.” They rubbed chests, tickled pits, groped balls, shamelessly giggling as their hands were everywhere. They bent over laughing. Towelling each other off, Alex rubbed his nephew’s cheek and said, “Would you like for me to give you a shave, Eros? You look like you need it!” “Well, if you don’t mind! I’m still a bit clumsy doing it myself.” Alex was suddenly very serious as he accomplished the delicate mission. Eros relished the scent of the foam, the feather touch of the razor on his face and throat, around his lips, discovering the magic of a man’s touch, something of which he had never known. After having rinsed his face, Eros caressed his cheek and turned around. Unperturbed by his persistent hard-on under the tenting towel, he beamed at Alex, asking, “Am I better that way.” “Stunning! Here put this other bathrobe on. It’s for you. I like to stay like this in the evening… by the way, there’s some aftershave in the cabinet… vetiver and sandal…” “Super! Can I hug you again?” “Of course, Eros!” ———- In the kitchen they turned on the radio waiting for the local weather forecast. Alex cleaned the salmon, preparing it for the oven. Eros peeled the potatoes. “And for Wester Ross, we have sun for everyone and this for the next three days at least… maybe even four, That is, of course, if it holds! That’s almost a threat of drought! Ha! And now the…” Alex switched off the news as Eros jumped around, dancing a jig, waving the knife over his head. “We’re lucky, Eros! Three straight days of sun! Tomorrow we’ll fly on the slopes of Slioch, our magic mountain.” Eros danced even more, his arms stretched out singing, “I’m a bird, an eagle, a speeding angel in your arms!” “We’ll drive to Kinlochewe on the other end of the loch. From there, it’s more or less a five hour walk to the slope for take off. We’ll have lunch and then fly like like you sing, soaring with the rising winds. You won’t believe the view from up there! That means you’ll have to get up at 4:30 AM at the latest.” “No problem… that is if you wake me up!” Spirits were high that evening at the table. They celebrated with a glass of white Chardonnay. The salmon was succulent and Eros devoured a double portion of fries! Once the dishes were done, Alex chimed, “Bedtime my young friend. Tomorrow will be here in a blink!” Useless to say that Alex got his third hug of the day as they separated at the top of the stairs, each retiring to his own room. ———- Eros was sound asleep, laying on his back, when Alex came in to wake him up. He leaned over and gently caressed his nephew’s smooth cheek. Eros suddenly jerked off the covers, then slowly stretched, his fresh young cock, proudly standing in its nest of curls, shivering. He yawned, then stuttered, “I’ll… uh… I’ll be down in a second, Alex!” “Sleep well?” “I think so…” he mumbled trying to smile. Several minutes later, excited as a puppy, Eros charged into the kitchen. “Easy there! We’re right on time. Calmly eat your breakfast. After, I’ll inspect the equipment as you prepare the picnic.” At 5:10 AM, on the dot, they pulled out of the garage and sped away. They drove through Gairloch, followed the road to Kinlochewe. Once in the village, they took the small road passing by the school and a bit further, Greenhill farm. They left the car in the free parking area just beyond. Alex took the wing sack on his back and Eros the backpack with the picnic. At first they followed the path along the shores of the loch and then after about an hour, they began to the climb. As they gained altitude, the loch, scattered with wooded islands, spread before their eyes, sparkling under the rising morning sun. The air was crisp and pure, scented with dew drenched heather, wild flowers, and high grasses. They crossed the stream flowing down from Loch Fada and, following a narrowing path, climbed the slope. Alex called out to Eros, “The steeper the climb, the slower the pace, that’s the rule hiking, my boy! Now, it’s your turn to carry the wing. Give me the backpack.” “I don’t know why I hurry… I guess I’ve still got some of London in my feet!” he exclaimed, laughing. Five hours after leaving the car, they arrived at the foot of the abrupt cliffs facing south. The heat of the day was there. “We’ll have lunch and then take-off here. Not too tired?” “Not really. I must say, Alex, that I admire you. You seem to be able to walk for hours on end.” “Do you mean that’s a feat for a man of my age” “That’s not what I meant… It’s just that you seem to be in better shape than me.” “As you grow, you’ll realise that it takes a long time to become young!” “I’ll remember that!” “Let’s eat!” exclaimed Alex. They enjoyed their sandwiches down to the last crumb. Eros stripped to the waist, unbuttoned his jeans and stretched out in the sun, crossing his arms under his head. Eros was like a work of art in his uncle’s eyes. Alex admired the unblemished glow of Eros’s perspiration, the delicate line of hair between the navel and the elastic of his boxers, his slim chest breathing, the wisps of hair in his pits, trembling in the breeze. A long forgotten emotion filled him as he smiled, closing his eyes. Alex dozed off a bit until he sensed a rising wind. “Eros, the thermals are starting to blow. We’d better get underway. It’s going to be a fabulous flight!” Eros immediately grabbed his clothes and while dressing, inquired, “What are thermals?” “Thermals are winds that blow uphill, so to speak. You know, like yesterday. Thermalling is the most delicate part of paragliding. We circle on the thermals to gain altitude. It’s simple. The higher you fly, the longer it lasts. With some luck we’ll be able to pass behind Slioch, admire the upper lochs. Are you ready to take to the sky!” “As soon as I pee and put my helmet on!” They spread the wing, harnessed up, and Eros backed up to Alex, exclaiming, “Alex, grab me and let’s run into the sky!” Their flight lasted much longer than usual. They circled and climbed for close to half an hour. Then swooping over Loch Garbhaig, they swung north flying along the shores of Loch Fada. The Highlands seemed endless, and to the west, the Hebrides floated on the horizon of the sea. Alex realised that the moment was like magic: the presence of Eros, reclining on him in total trust, rejoiced his soul. At one point, he leaned forward and kissed Eros under an ear, making him quiver with glee. “I want to kiss you too, Alex, but I can’t! I’m too strapped in!” “Later if you want!” Eros nodded in earnest, shouting, “That I shall do! I promise!” Heading south, they dipped and rose along the open izmit sınırsız escort waters of Loch Maree, then swerving eastward, they glided low over the village of Kinlochewe and gently landed in the field only a few yards from the car. “I’ll never forget that flight with you!” asserted Eros, unbuckling his harness. He jerked off his helmet, and turned around kissing Alex flat on his mouth! “You see, I keep my word!” he laughed, licking his lips, tasting his triumph. “I see…” replied Alex, blushing. Vivaldi blared in the wind, all their way home, top down, driving into the slanting sun. ———- “I really need a shower after that!” asserted Eros as they went inside. He looked at Alex and added, “Coming with me?” In a flash they were both naked under the steamy rain, shampooing each other with fragrant foam, streaming down all over them both. “Alex, turn around, and let me massage your shoulders again! You did a lot of flying. I’m sure you need it!” Eros squeezed and rubbed the nape of Alex’s neck, his broad shoulders and down the spine. He pressed himself against Alex’s muscular rump as he massaged, humming. Then Eros stood back, beaming. “Feel better?” “More than wonderful…” he replied with a rather hoarse voice turning to face his nephew. He suddenly reached out and pulled Eros to him. Eros melted in Alex’s embrace. He writhed in delight as Alex rubbed his back. Their breathing sped. Eros kissed, then licked Alex’s throat. Slowly slipping down from his hold, he then kissed Alex’s broad chest. As he was about to kneel, Alex grabbed him by the armpits and pulled him to his feet. Their mouths met. Eros delicately sucked on Alex’s lip. Their tongues duelled, penetrating deeper into their mouths, greeted by lusty moans and delicate whimpers. What had to happen happened. They backed off. Alex turned off the water. Eros waited, their eyes locked in a knowing smile. Nothing was said. Everything was clear. Alex carried Eros to his bed, laid him on the spread and smothered him with kisses, devouring his pits, his tits, his belly. Eros wriggled with glee, his straining cock drooling. Alex buried his nose in the lad’s fragrant bush, then licked the crystal precum oozing from his glans. Swallowing the slender shaft, he sucked as deeply as he could. Instinct kicked in. Spinning around, Eros took Alex as well in his mouth. They sucked, maddened with lust, groaning, grunting, moaning, trembling. Eros exploded first. Like a dying star, he stifled a howl in his throat as Alex thrusted. Spastic blasts of electric fire flooded Alex’s throat. Swallowing the miracle of youth’s intimate offering, he too lost control. His nostrils flared. Eros gagged a little, swallowing as fast as he could. A sudden calm reigned after the tempest. They laid there, sweating, licking their lips, catching their breath. Starry eyed, they nudged each other from time to time just to be sure it wasn’t a dream. Eros flipped around and promptly rolled over on Alex. With devotion, caressing his uncle’s beard, he smiled, and whispered, “Alex, I’m hungry!” Alex burst out laughing, exclaiming, “Get dressed while I reserve a table.” ———- They splurged on a full steak dinner in the Poolewe Hotel. It was delicious. Every now and then, they just looked at each other and giggled. Back in the cottage, they lit a fire, and enjoyed a tumbler of old Drambuie. The silence was rich, peaceful, dense with emotion. “Alex?” “Yes, Eros…” “Am I now your Eromenos and you, my Eraste?” “I think we’re more than that, Eros.” The silent light of the fire flickered in their eyes. “I think so too. We’re more than that… and…” Eros breathed deeply. “And?” repeated Alex. “And I want more of you tonight!” Alex smiled, saying, “Eros, our flesh is our connection to life itself. It’s our own personal part of nature…” “And I want your nature inside me, Alex. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to take me, make me yours.” Alex was deeply moved. He slowly rose, holding out his hand. They climbed the stairs in silence. Alex took the oil he usually used for solitary relief and put it on the nightstand. He unscrewed the cap as Eros lit the candle. Nude under the sheets, they cuddled. There was no haste, no urgency of pent-up lust. They simply, gently held each other. Energy flowed, increasing in force, surging with ease. Alex eased down and spread Eros’s thighs. A lusty scent of youth filled his nostrils. Eros bent his legs and lifted his pelvis. Alex massaged, then tongued Eros’s anus, dilating it, urging it to open. Eros hummed as he anticipated Alex inside him, sliding, gliding in him softly. Alex pulled Eros closer, leaned over and kissed his smile. Then he anointed his cock and placed the tip, like a kiss, ready to enter. Eros encircled Alex with his long, slender legs. Alex pressed his cock against the twitching hole. Eros gripped Alex’s buttocks. They stared into each other’s eyes, breathing deeply, very deeply. Alex gently pushed, Eros pulled. The oozing glans popped in. Eros flinched, gasped, then hunched up to engulf the rest. Alex’s nostrils flared, his cock throbbed, a light snarl crept across his upper lip. Eros’s anus squeezed, rocking to and fro. Alex cradled Eros between his thighs. He pushed a bit further, then slowly pulled back. Eros helplessly leaked droplets of semen. Their bodies were timeless, undulating like a rising tide. Then they began to quake, clawing, growling, mouth agape as their orgasms clashed in a seismic upheaval, an instant of oblivion, then nothing. A milky moonbeam streamed through the window. All was still, quiet once again. ———- For the following weeks, their life together was like music. They slept together and drank at the source of each, greeting the morning. They spent their nights in tender intercourse and their sunlight hours, persuing beauty, enjoying the simple things that nature and inspiration provided. Eros wrote very poetic descriptions of their lovemaking. He copied them in small hand-sewn booklets made of aged paper from brown bags and boxes. Alex was impressed, saying that they were little jewels of erotic art. “Living with you, Alex, is art! Each instant is unique!” On the cover of one of the booklets, Eros had painted a pale watercolour of an elegant cock in erection. Alex smiled when he noticed it. “It’s my self-portrait” stated Eros. They both laughed and then more seriously, Alex added, “If you continue, I think these ‘orgasmics’ could make a very interesting collection to publish.” Eros replied whispering, “And I pray that the collection will never end…” “Really?” Eros, looked at his feet, then suddenly stood. He turned facing Alex and simply asked, “Alex, may I stay?” Alex calmly replied, “Yes, of course you may.” ———- Elena agreed to her son’s decision to live with Alex. Nothing was said, neither about the nature nor the depth of their relationship. However, after a visit with them, seeing her son, she knew that they were both happy, and so was she. Eros finished high school in Gairloch. He made good friends and enjoyed taking part in their teenage fun. He even persuaded his mother to sew him a kilt. The following summer, Eros and Alex wrote a book together entitled, ‘Understanding the Sky’. Vast programme! Eros suggested they create a small publishing house, Tollie Bay Editions. It flourished. The turn of the century slipped by. Eros took over the management of Tollie Bay Editions, as Alex’s heart condition began to act up. They were both prepared for Alex’s last flight, but when he left — and never landed — Eros was devastated. He even thought he was going mad with grief. Yet, as time passed by, he was still there and very much alive. Of course, certain circumstances made him weep sometimes, but little by little, the grace of having lived such an ardent love braced him to face his yet long future. It was on a balmy afternoon in May, as he was soaring alone, close to the summit of Slioch, a surge of joy flooded him from within. Somewhere swirling in the wind he could hear bits of Vivaldi’s Spring! His hymn of life, of love, of death’s defeat. Tears of joy streaming, he shouted in the speeding wind, “Alex! I know you are there! I feel you! God bless our love! God bless us both!” ———- Eros got out of the car and opened the mailbox. Amongst the letters, there was a thick brown envelope, hand addressed to Tollie Bay Editions. Once inside, he tossed the mail on the desk and climbed the stairs. He was emotionally exhausted, still a bit shaken by the event in his flight. A long hot shower consoled him and, as usual, clad only in his evening bathrobe, he went back down, picked up the brown envelope, obviously a manuscript, and retired to the living room. He poured himself a stiff whisky and plopped down in his armchair. Alex’s was always empty beside him, facing the hearth. He opened the envelope and read the enclosed letter attached to the manuscript. It came from a certain Jimmy Flynt, presenting himself as a student in Creative Writing at the University of the Highlands and Islands in Inverness. He took another sip of whisky and began reading the first lines of Jimmy’s text. He was immediately caught. He couldn’t stop. The text was a powerful poem in prose, a philosophical ode to the joys of riding the winds on a wing of silk. It wasn’t long, but extremely dense. Each word perfectly chosen, each image, sharp and clear as a diamond, tempered by a touch of elegant sensuality. He let the manuscript fall from his hands, laid back and sighed. He was moved, close to weeping. He went to the kitchen, fixed himself something to eat, and returned to the living room. He looked at the manuscript on the floor, then picked it up and read it once more. The next day, Eros wrote to Jimmy, congratulating him. He asked him to call. They had to meet. Two days later, the phone rang. It was Jimmy. They fixed a date for him to come to the cottage. Eros gave him the directions, and that was it. ———- Jimmy’s motorcycle stopped in front of the cottage. Eros went to the window. The young man’s stride, walking up to the cottage, was strangely familiar. He opened the door. “You must be Jimmy. Please come in.” “Thank you Mr. Forsyth…” He led Jimmy into the cottage. Eros asked, “Did you have much trouble finding the cottage?” “Not really. I usually get lost following directions, but this time… well, I’m here!” Eros noticed Jimmy’s eyes darting here and there with a funny look on his face as they entered the living room. “Excuse me, but, I just had one of those odd feelings as if I’d already been here before, you know, like in a familiar dream,” “Really…” “And that’s Vivaldi I hear on the hi-fi!” Eros felt uneasy. “Yes, it is, excuse me, I forgot to turn it off. Does it bother you?” “Oh no, please leave it on! It’s my favourite, the Springtime movement from the Four Seasons!” Eros felt a bit faint. “Tea or coffee?” “Coffee please, strangely enough, I don’t like tea…” Overwhelmed, Eros went to the kitchen. When he came back with the coffee, Jimmy was standing behind Alex’s armchair, his hand resting on the back. “Matching Voltaire armchairs, aren’t they? Beautiful…” commented Jimmy. Eros nodded as he put the mugs on the mantle and opened his arms. They looked at each other smiling. Calm tears were swelling. They held each other, silently beaming, locked in a long embrace. Vivaldi played on, And time stood still… ———- A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at .

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