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 A World of My Choosing   An Out-of-this-World Story by Gil Gamesh   Chapter
Eleven

   The second morning after Iain's arrival, my internal clock awakened me
just a few minutes before six.  Aimee had set the alarm on my clock to wake
me up by six-thirty but I never needed it.  Since I usually went to bed
early, I was ready to get up early.

   I called for Lights On and then rolled out of bed.  My penis was showing
off with its usual morning piss-hard and I needed to relieve it but I
wanted to awaken Iain first.  I walked over to his bed and stood there
looking at him.  He was turned with his back toward me and the blanket that
was supposed to be covering him had slipped away.  His butt was completely
exposed and I couldn't help but grin when I saw it.  His back was tanned as
were his legs but the narrow band around his hips was strikingly white. 
Between his legs I could see the back of his scrotum with one testicle
showing.  I still couldn't see any hair in the crack of his ass or on his
scrotum.  He certainly wasn't like me.

   I cleared my throat and when that didn't work I said his name.  "Iain,
wake up."

   He rolled over and looked at me.  "What?" he said sleepily.  He looked
up at my morning hard-on and seemed surprised to see it.  I didn't see any
reason to hide it from him.

   "I'm going down the mountain today.  I've got a project I'm working on.
Would you like to help me?"

   He stretched in all directions, groaned loudly, and finally managed to
say, "Yeah." The blanket slipped away and I saw another morning hard-on.

   "Well, get up.  I can offer you some rabbit or deer if you want it.  I
don't have any fish but that's why I'm going down the mountain.  I can cook
you a couple of eggs.  If you don't want any of that, you'll have to eat
Nutty Buddies again."

   "What?"

   I grinned.  He couldn't know what I had started calling the nutrition
bars.

   "Nutty Buddies, you know, like the cookies.  That's what I call the
nutrition bars."

   He smiled at that.  Evidently he knew what Nutty Buddies were.

   "Can I take a hot shower first?  I'm still achy from the trip."

   `Yeah, now get up.  I'll take one too.  I've got to piss and I think you
do too."

   In the toilet, Iain watched me while I went through my usual pissing
routine: pull my foreskin back until the head of my penis was completely
exposed, lean forward with my left hand on the wall and my right holding my
penis pointed slightly down, piss and give a big sigh of relief, milk it
down, shake, and cover up.  I noticed that he followed my example and then
looked up at me and grinned when he was finished.
"I've never watched another guy piss before," he said.  "I've always

been a little shy and I never liked guys looking at me."

   "Well, you can just get rid of your shyness, Iain," I said.  "This is a
new world and we're going to be different about nudity.  Besides you've got
nothing to be shy about.  You're a good looking guy and your penis is
certainly not smaller than normal."

   "Yeah, but yours is a lot bigger than normal.  I'll bet women really
like it."

   "Anna does, Iain.  She's the only woman whose opinion matters to me."

   In the shower, we bathed under adjacent shower heads.  Iain again
followed my example and grinned at me the whole time.  When I handed him my
soapy washcloth and asked him to scrub my back, he did it too gently.  I
told him to give it a really good scrubbing.  I returned the favor and made
him groan a few times.

   In the kitchen, Iain sat at the counter while I prepared our breakfast.
I got a couple of bottles of juice, gave him one, and took a few swallows
out of the other.  I chopped a pile of wild onions, greens and all, and
sautéed them in a little olive oil.  Wild onions grew everywhere and I'd
already learned to like them, especially the ones with the bulb about the
size of a quarter.  I chopped some left-over potatoes and threw them in the
pan.  Then I broke six large eggs in a bowl, whipped them, and poured them
in the pan with the onions and potatoes.

   "Where did you get eggs?" he asked.  "I thought all we had to eat was
meat and Nutty Buddies."

   "They're not from chickens, Iain," I said and watched his reaction. 
"They're from sea-birds.  Aimee taught me how to pick one egg out of each
nest and how to get the freshest ones.  They taste a little fishy but I'm
used to them.  I hardly ever get one with an embryo in it."

   "Aimee taught you?  How does she know about stuff like that?"

   "I told you Aimee has an immense knowledge of everything.  Don't you,
Aimee?"

   "Yes, David, I do," she answered from somewhere.  Iain jumped.

   "Damn, she scared me.  Is she always listening?"

   "Yep.  She is unless I tell her not to.  I like having Aimee around,
Iain.  She's good company and she helps me a lot.  I think you'll like her
too."

   "Thank you, David.  I like having you around too," she said from where
ever.

   "Well, why does she get to wear clothes and we have to go naked?  Do we
have to stay naked all the time?"

   "She wears clothes because she's a beautiful sexy woman and I don't want
to get an erection every time I see her.  Isn't that right, Aimee?"

   "Yes, David, Men have a rather prominent display when they are sexually
aroused.  I do not think you should cook with an erect penis."

   Iain looked at me with an unbelieving expression.

   "Yes, Iain," I said.  "She has a sense of humor too.  To answer your
other question: You don't have to stay naked.  You can wear clothes any
time you want but the supply is limited.  The temperature and humidity
inside is set so we're comfortable naked."

   I raked some of the onions and potatoes and eggs out in Iain's plate,
some in mine, and left some in the pan.  Iain started cautiously and then I
suppose his hunger took over.  He cleaned his plate and, when I pushed the
frying pan toward him, he ate the rest.  I had learned that some eggs or
meat and juice held me until mid-morning and then I had a Nutty Buddy if I
was really hungry.  From Iain's appetite, I knew I'd better take a few
extra Nutty Buddies with me when we went down the mountain.

   I helped Iain get outfitted in his size of Robin Hood clothes and put on
a fresh set of my own.  We found that the medium moccasins which just
covered his ankles fit him perfectly.  I put on the extra-large size which
came half-way up my calf.  He pranced around worse than I did, looking at
himself in the mirror and grinning a mile wide all the time.

   Inside the weapons storeroom, I gave Iain a quick tour and answered some
more of his never-ending questions.  Then I retrieved my knives, strapped
the scabbard around my waist, went over to the spears, and picked out a
longer one for me and a shorter for him.  He looked at me with a surprised
expression on his face when I held out one to him.

   "What do I need that for?" he asked.  "I've never thrown a spear."

   I held the spear with the sharp end up and tapped the blunt end of the
floor.

   "The path gets a little rough in some places going down the mountain,
Iain.  You'll be glad you have something to help you keep your balance. 
Aimee says there are no large animals on the mountain but you probably
should get used to carrying a spear to defend yourself.  Now let's go in
the kitchen.  We may be gone all day and we're going to need some Nutty
Buddies and some juice.  I hope you like fish because that's what I hope we
have for lunch.  We won't need water because there are streams all over the
mountain and there's a lake down near where we're going."

   "Well, may I have a knife too?  You've got two.  Can I maybe have one?"

   I took Big Boy out of the scabbard, laid it in my left palm so he could
see it, and held it out.  As Grandfather had taught me, I deliberately
turned the blade so it was pointing at me.

   "This is Big Boy, Iain.  The other one is Little Boy.  You won't need a
knife today.  If you do, I'll lend you one of mine.  Like I said, there are
no dangerous animals here."

   "Where did you get those knives?  They're beautiful.  They don't look
anything like the rest of the stuff in here."

   "My grandfather gave them to me, Iain.  They're precious to me."

   "Did you ever kill anybody with them?" he asked, looking up at my face.

   I did not want to get into my past life with Iain today.  Maybe I would
never want to share that with him.  I needed to think long and hard before
I did.  I decided to answer truthfully.

   "Yes, I did, Iain.  I was a soldier before I came here and I cut a
jihadist's throat with Big Boy.  Now, don't ask me anything else about my
past.  Maybe I'll share it with you someday."

   "Damn, I hope so," he said, sounding like a kid.  "I think that would be
neat.  I'd like to be a soldier."

   Going down the mountain, I made sure to visit Lightning.  I saw him
every few days and he was accustomed to my presence now.  I made a kissy
sound with my lips and he came running.  Iain was as fascinated by
Lightning as I had been and he soon had the chipmunk running around in
circles and eating out of his hand.

   Toward the bottom of the mountain, I went off the main trail toward the
bamboo grove.  Using bamboo, I had made what I hoped would be a good fish
trap and then left it to dry out.  I hefted it and knew I could carry it,
maybe awkwardly but I could.  I looked at Iain and decided to see if I
could start training him a little.

   "Iain, this is a fish trap.  Aimee found the plans for me and I've made
it as best I can.  We need to carry it down to where I'm going to use it.
I'm going to lift the big end.  Do you think you could lift the little
end?"

   "I can try," he said and walked around to the side of the little end. 
He had his spear in his right hand so I assumed he was right handed, as I
was.  He took his spear in his left hand and bent down to pick up the trap
with his right.

   "Uh, uh, lift the trap with your left hand," I said.  "Keep your spear
in your right.  Always be ready to defend yourself."

   He changed sides.  I got on the same side, facing away from him, reached
down, and wrapped my left hand around a bamboo.  I looked back at him,
nodded, and we both lifted at the same time.

   "Are you OK?" I asked.

   "Yeah," he said.  "I'm not a total weakling, you know."

   "Good.  It's not far now.  I'll walk slowly.  Just let me know if you
need to put it down and rest."

   I called for couple of rest stops on the remainder of the way down the
mountain.  Iain didn't object; neither did he complain.

   I had found a place on the rocky coast where I thought a fish trap might
work.  The coast had all sizes and shapes of pools on it.  I had found a
big pool about waist deep with two openings out to the sea.  I had already
tried wading in the pool and spearing fish and had actually managed to get
one.  Most of them just fled out the openings.

   One opening was only a foot or so deep and I knew I could stop it up
with rocks which were everywhere.  The deeper opening was where I was going
to put the fish trap.  I had already partially blocked that opening,
leaving just enough space for the fish trap.  Today, I intended to set the
trap in place and finish blocking the rest of the space with rocks.  But
first I wanted to start a fire.

   I told Iain to round up some firewood and I started looking for a piece
to use for the tinder.  I found a piece of well-bleached driftwood that was
stripped of bark and looked soft.  Next I found a place where rocks
sheltered me from the slight wind.  Then I used Big Boy to make a pile of
shavings and used Little Boy to scrape off some fine particles of wood.  I
remembered Father calling it tinder so I did too.  Iain came back with his
arms full of dry driftwood, dropped it, and stood watching what I was
doing.

   I got my fire starter out of my pack, crouched down, stuck it against
the tinder, and, a few sparks later, I had another fire.  I smiled because
I was getting good at it.

   I stripped out of my Robin Hood outfit and watched as Iain did too.  His
dick wasn't that little but it looked brand new like it had never been
used. I suppose everything about his body looked brand new.

   We both squatted there and slowly fed the fire until we had a nice blaze
going.  I saw Iain glance between my legs so I looked between his.  His
penis and testicles were hanging down almost as low as mine.  I knew what
would happen to mine when I got in the water.  Maybe I would get him in the
water too.  I couldn't help but smile at the idea.

   "Let's go get some more firewood," I said.  "Get some bigger stuff this
time.  I want you to keep the fire going while we're here and the bigger
driftwood will take longer to burn."

   "Why do we need a fire?" Iain asked.  "It's not cold."

   "Because we're going to get in cold water and you're going to want to
get warm when you get out.  And I hope we get some fish so we can cook one
for lunch.  If you'll work with me, we should be through by mid-day and
then I have a surprise for you."

   "What?"

   "It won't be a surprise if I tell you now; will it?"

   "What are you going to do with the fish trap?" he asked.

   "We're going to put it with the big open end out toward the sea," I
said. "The opening on the big end is about sixty centimeters wide.  I'm
hoping the fish will swim down the trap.  The opening on the little end is
made so it's flexible and will expand if a really big fish tries to get
through.  It's only about ten centimeters wide, about as wide as your dick
is long."

   I didn't look at him when I said that.  I just waited and he wasn't long
in replying.

   "Fuck you, David," he said indignantly, "My dick's sixteen point five
centimeters long when it's hard.  That's a little over six inches.  How
long is your fucking dick, anyway?"

   "Mine's eighteen centimeters," I answered, looking at him and grinning
and cutting off a couple of centimeters.  "Don't be so touchy, Iain."

   I remembered very well how long it was because Anna had insisted on
measuring it when we were in Flagstaff.  It was twenty centimeters, a
little shy of eight inches.  I remembered what she had done to get it erect
and what she had then done to take the starch out of it, as she worded it.

   "Well, you don't need to tease me about the size of my dick," he said.
"I've used it a few times and...and she never complained."

   I wondered who never complained but I didn't ask.  He just looked at me
and shook his head.

   I pulled a long piece of strong string out of the bag with our Nutty
Buddies and juice, motioned for Iain to raise his left hand, and then tied
one end of the string around his wrist.

   "We've both got to get in the water and you might as well tie this
string around your dick before you do."

   "Why?" he said, looking at me askance as if he knew I was about to tease
him again.

   "Because that water's damn cold and you'll need the string to pull your
dick back out after it crawls up in your belly."

   "Shit," he said.

   "Father got me on that one when I was about ten, Iain.  You mean you've
never heard of it."

   He just shook his head and grinned at me.  His grin was probably cute
enough to get him what he wanted from whoever it was who never complained.

   Without another word, I tied the other end of the string around Iain's
spear.  I'd learned long ago never to throw my spear in the water without
some easy way to retrieve it.

   "Seriously, Iain, I wanted both of us naked so we can get in the water.
I want you to stand near the spot where I'm going to put the trap.  I'm
going to wade from the far end to see if there are any fish in the pool. 
If there are, I want you to try to spear one when they make a run for it."

   "I don't know how to spear fish, David."

   "I don't either, Iain.  Just try and, if you miss, don't worry about it.
I only missed about a hundred before I got one.

   I led him over the rocks to where I wanted him to stand, almost knee
deep in the water with the sun shining down behind him so he wouldn't have
to contend with the glare.

   With him in place, I jumped over rocks to the other end of the pool. 
When I looked back, I saw him intently looking down at the water with his
spear raised.  He looked like an innocent naked little kid trying his
hardest to do something grownup.

   Cautiously, I waded into the water, holding on to my spear and trying to
keep from falling on the rocky bottom.  I sucked in my breath as I slowly
got deeper in the pool and then really sucked it in when my penis and
testicles got wet.

   I waded through the pool, stopping periodically to move my spear point
from side to side underwater.  With the sun's reflection off the water in
my eyes, I couldn't see whether there were any fish in the pool.  I was
about to give up when I heard Iain shout.

   "I got one, David!  I got one!  I got a big one."

   "Keep your spear in him, Iain!" I yelled.  "Don't pull it back!  Hold
him down!"

   I waded through the pool until I got to the shallower part where Iain
was leaning on his spear.  I could clearly see a big fish thrashing pinned
against the bottom.  I leaned over, stuck my fingers in the fish's mouth,
and got a good grip on it.  I didn't even think about getting my fingers
bitten off.  I just wanted to get Iain's fish out of the water.

   When I pulled the fish out, I saw he had speared a fish almost a meter
long, much bigger than anything I had speared.  I managed to struggle the
rest of the way out of the water with the fish still flapping on my hand. I
wasn't about to let it go until I had it safely ashore.  I carried it over
to the fire, laid it down, stuck my spear through its head, and got my hand
out of his mouth.  I looked at my hand and saw that it was bleeding from a
few small cuts.  I knew it was nothing to worry about.  I'd already had
worse.

   I went back to the water, scrubbed my hands in the salt water, and then
went over to where we had left our clothes.  I took Little Boy out of the
scabbard and held it out to Iain.

   "Now, clean it," I said, looking at him.  "Don't cut the head off."

   "I don't know how to clean fish," he protested.

   "I'll tell you how.  Now clean it and be careful with Little Boy.  He's
sharper than a razor."

   He gutted the fish and didn't cut himself and didn't complain.  I
complimented him when he was finished and told him to put the fish in the
shade until we were ready to eat.

   I put the fish trap in the larger opening to the pool and asked Iain to
stop up the smaller opening with rocks while I finished blocking the larger
opening.  He worked with me and kept the fire going, I carried the largest
rocks I could handle and dumped then around the fish trap.  He carried
smaller rocks but he didn't complain and even seemed to be enjoying
himself. I complimented him on a job well done again.

   I sliced a huge fillet out of one side of the fish, stuck it on my spear
point with the skin side away from the fire, and propped the spear with the
fish piece almost in the fire.  I knew it wouldn't take long for it to be
ready to eat.

   "Do you want to stay naked or do you want to put your clothes back on?"
I asked.

   "Are we ready to go back up the mountain?" he asked.  "What's the
surprise?"

   "I'm going to take you to a little beach where we can swim.  We can lie
out in the sun for a while but you need to be careful not to blister your
butt like I did."

   "I don't want to get in that cold water again," he protested.

   "Iain, just wait `til you see the beach.  It's a beautiful spot, a good
place for swimming.  Once you get over the shock, the water's not so bad. I
swam in it a few weeks ago.  Can you swim?"

   "Yeah, I'm a good swimmer.  I like to swim."

   The fish tasted great, even completely unseasoned.  We left nothing but
the skin.  Cold water and a good appetite can make anything taste good.

   We both put our moccasins back on before we left and carried our
clothing.  My feet were much tougher from going barefooted but I knew
Iain's weren't.  I led him back up the mountain a short distance, then off
a side trail, and then through the tree tunnel.  The trail wound through a
thick growth of some kind of little trees that almost cut off the light. 
At the end of the tunnel I watched Iain's face when we emerged into the
sunlight again.

   Walking out of the tree tunnel was almost like walking out of a cave
into the sunlight.  On each side of the path and everywhere around the
beach there were rock formations so the only access was the way we had
come. The beach was small, maybe fifty meters wide and ten meters deep. 
The sand was almost white and it continued for some distance into the
crystal-clear light-green water.  The waves were barely lapping at the
beach.  It was a little paradise and Iain was as struck by its beauty as I
had been.  I told him to thank Aimee for showing me how to find it.

   I got in the water first, running as fast as I could, holding my hands
in the air, and letting out a big whoop when the water hit me from head to
toe.  Then I turned around and waited for Iain.  He hesitated for a few
seconds and then followed my example, even the big whoop.

   After the initial shock, we both stood in water that came to mid-thigh
on Iain, shivering and trying to get up the courage to totally immerse
ourselves.  Iain looked at my penis and testicles so I looked at his and
then at mine.  His penis looked like something off a Greek statue and his
testicles were drawn up in a half-ball in his scrotum.  Mine were about the
same.

   "Hey, David," he said, trying to grin.  "I think we both need some
string tied to our dicks."

   We played in the water and even swam side by side a little.  I told him
I wanted to show him something my father had taught me.  I got him to stand
still and on his toes while I ducked down behind him, grabbed under his
heels, and threw him out of the waist-deep water.  I told him that, to do
it right, he had to cannonball back in the water.  He tried a couple of
times but never quite succeeded.  Then I coaxed him into letting me duck
down behind him, stick my head between his legs, and come up with him on my
shoulders.  I had to coax him even more when I held both his hands for
balance and got him to stand on my shoulders so he could dive off.  He
belly-flopped but it was a good try.  I couldn't convince him to do that
again.

   We lay on the sand on our stomachs and on our backs for a while.  Iain
didn't want to go back in the water so I brushed the sand off his back
while he did the front.  Then he returned the favor for me.  We didn't get
nearly all the sand but I didn't care and he evidently didn't either.  With
the sun on my body and the light breeze blowing up the mountain, I didn't
have a care in the world.

   In mid-afternoon, I told Iain that it was time to start home.  He
protested until I told him it would take twice as long to go up the
mountain as it did to come down.  The day had gone much better than I
expected.  Iain had been more of a man than a boy.  I had enjoyed the day
with him.  Except for our moccasins, we didn't get dressed.  Iain wanted to
carry the rest of his fish.

   We were almost home when he asked me a question.

   "David, today, when I had Little Boy in my hand cleaning the fish, what
would you have done if I had attacked you?"

   I thought about it for a few seconds.  "Oh, I probably would have
disarmed you and kicked your butt.  If I thought you were a real threat, I
might have killed you."

   He stopped and looked at me.  "You could have done that?"

   "Yes, Iain, I could have.  I told you I was a soldier and I've had a lot
of training on how to kill, even without a weapon.  But that war is behind
me now.  I've offered you my hand in friendship today.  I hope you'll take
it."

   He walked up closer to me and stood looking in my eyes.  "I never
thought of attacking you, David.  I knew what you were doing by making me
clean the fish.  I liked it.  I don't mean cleaning the fish.  I mean you
making me do it because I need to learn to do it."

   He held out his hand.  I was more than glad to shake it.  Then, as we
climbed the rest of the way to home, I put my arm on his shoulders and kept
it there for a few minutes.  I had just one more thing to say to him.

   "Iain, I'm certain you know where we are and why you're here.  I need to
know too.  Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."

   He hung his head and said, "I can't."

   "By the end of this year, there will be nine or ten people here.  In
another year, there will probably be twenty of us.  Our survival will
depend on how much we trust each other and how well we all cooperate. 
Think about it."

   He mumbled something and walked away.  I didn't bring up the subject
again as we were climbing up the mountain.

   <><><>

   The next morning Iain was a different person.  I woke him up when I got
up at six o'clock to ask him if wanted to go with me again.  I told him I
wanted to make the rounds of my rabbit traps to reset them, to check on my
garden, and to forage for edible plants as usual.  I was usually back home
by eight o'clock for breakfast and my workout session out on the terrace.
He wanted to stay in bed and sleep.  He offered an excuse: that he was sore
from what he did the day before.  I didn't know whether to believe him or
not.

   <><><>

   The following day, he went with me to check my rabbit traps but he was
still quiet and withdrawn.  We had one kill, a mature male, and I asked if
he would gut it.  He declined.  He was a little more helpful in foraging
for edible plants.  He found a colony of large mushrooms and, after his
tablet confirmed that they were edible, we harvested the best ones.  I led
him to a swampy area where I had seen old cattails and we found that the
new shoots were about a foot or so high.  I knew they could be eaten.  The
tablet recommended that they be steamed or boiled to kill any bacteria from
the swamp and said they tasted like asparagus or cucumbers.

   For supper, we had rabbit again.  I sautéed it in a little olive oil and
then steamed it to tenderize it.  I sautéed some of the mushrooms with wild
onions and asked Iain to steam the cattails.  With a few potatoes from the
patch near the terrace, we ate a fine meal.  The meal was good but Iain's
attitude wasn't.  He still seemed moody and withdrawn.

   Later that evening, we wandered outdoors to watch the sunset again.  I
remembered something from Iain's arrival.

   "Iain, what language were you and Aimee speaking when you first
arrived?" I asked.

   He hesitated for a moment before he answered.  "It's Gaelic, David.  I
told you my family is Irish.  My parents make me speak it when I'm talking
to them.  They're what you might call traditionalists.  They like to
preserve the old ways and the old language."

   I didn't believe him.  I didn't tell him I had already asked Aimee the
same question.  She had said she didn't know the name of the language but,
when Iain spoke it, she had known it and so she replied in the same
language.  When I asked her how many languages she knew, she had told me
she knew twenty-one languages, each of which was spoken by more than fifty
million people.  I asked her if the language she and Iain spoke was one of
them and she had answered that it was not.  I had assumed it was some
obscure language like Gaelic but I felt Iain wasn't being truthful.  I
decided to leave the subject alone.

   "Do you speak any other languages, David?" Iain asked.

   "Yeah, I'm fluent in French and Farsi and I can make do in Arabic.  My
parents and grandparents taught me when I was little."

   "Yeah," Iain said, "parents will do that.  Parents like to make you do
things whether you want to or not."

   "Yes, but I'm glad mine did."

   "David, have I told you I'm a singer?  I love music.  I like classical
music and Broadway musicals and jazz.  I even like some operas, like
Carmen."

   I got the distinct impression that he was trying to change the subject.

   "Well, I can't help you there.  I can't sing and I can't play a musical
instrument.  Even if we had some, I couldn't play them for you to sing."

   "Oh, I don't sing with instruments, David," he said.  "I sing without
accompaniment, a capella, you know, just my voice.  My mother and
grandfather taught me that too.  I'm quite good at it.  I've performed in
lots of places."

   "Well, how about singing something for me?"

   "Could we go in the lounge?  The acoustics there are much better than
outdoors."

   I followed him inside to the lounge.  He pointed to a chair for me so I
sat down.  He walked to a corner of the room, closed his eyes, took some
deep breaths, and then began to sing.

   I had no idea what the words were or maybe there were no words.  I had
read that the human voice was the most beautiful musical instrument and now
I believed it.  I had heard tenors sing so I suppose that was his voice
range but I found it hard to believe that he could hit the highest and
lowest notes.

   After a minute or so listening to him, I knew he was singing about
something that was sad.  Something in his voice and his facial expressions
and his gestures told me that his song was mournful, maybe about a lost
love, and I knew it with certainty even if I couldn't understand the words.
I couldn't help but enter into the song with him and I felt sad about
something too.  When he finished, I sat there, speechless, hardly believing
what I had heard.

   He stood there looking at me, a serious expression on his face.  "Well,
did you like it?"

   "Yes, Iain, I liked it.  I liked it very much.  You've got a beautiful
voice.  It's sad, isn't it?  I've never heard anything like it."

   "I like to sing outdoors too, David.  Would you think I'm silly if
sometimes I go outdoors at dawn and sing to greet the sun?  Or maybe I'll
go out at dusk and sing to greet the night.  I like to do that."

   "No, Iain, I won't think you're silly.  But let me go with you.  I've
never heard anything as beautiful as your voice."

   "I can sing happy songs too, David.  Let's go outside tomorrow morning
just as day is breaking and I'll sing you a happy song.  I've been talking
to Aimee and she says she can play music outdoors.  There a short piece of
music I think would be perfect at daybreak."

   "I'd like that, Iain.  Just don't sing me another sad song.  I almost
felt like crying and men don't cry."

   I wasn't about to tell him that I had felt sad because of what had
happened to my father and mother.  I'm sure his song wasn't about them but
it had evoked my memories of them and I had felt like crying again.

   <><><>

   I looked at the clock when I heard Iain get up.  The time was just
before six o'clock and I knew that was probably before sunrise.  I thought
he might be going outdoors to greet the sun with singing again so I rolled
out of bed too.

   He went in the toilet, for his morning piss I assumed, so I followed him
and walked up to the adjacent urinal to do it too.  He looked at my face,
then down at my hand holding my penis, looked back at my face, and smiled.
I smiled back and we both started pissing at the same time.  When I
finished, I farted, then shook my dick, slid my foreskin down to cover up
and turned toward him.  He was still pissing so I watched until he shook
his dick, covered the head again, and turned toward me.  I could tell he
was straining to fart.  He finally managed to squeeze out a little poot.  I
was just glad he wasn't bashful around me anymore.

   I followed him outdoors, to the highest level of the terrace, and sat
down behind him.  I looked at his butt and between his legs at his balls
and I couldn't help but smile.  There was such a contrast between his
tanned back and legs and his white butt.  He stood there with his legs
slightly apart, his hands raised, and waited for the first rays of the sun.

   When the first rays touched him, Aimee started playing some music.  I
wasn't aware that she could play music outdoors but I was pleased to learn.
I watched Iain's arms and he seemed to be conducting the music.  He was
right.  I thought the music was perfect at daybreak.

   Then he started singing a new song and again his voice raised goose
bumps on my skin.  I listened in awe.  I knew he was singing a song of
praise.  I had no idea what he was praising but I knew that was what the
song was about.

   When the song was finished, I rose as he turned and we both went down
the stairs.  When we were down to the main level leading into the front
door, I put my arm on his shoulders.  He looked at me and smiled, a
beautiful warm smile.

   "Thank you, Iain," I said.  "The music was perfect and your voice was
wonderful.  I wish I could praise the day like that."

   "No, David, I want to thank you, for the way you've treated me.  I know
I'm moody and not very good company sometimes.  I'll try to do better.  And
the music was called Morning.  It's by Edvard Grieg.  I've worked with
classical music a lot and Aimee says she has lots of it for us."

   <><><>

   The next day Iain and I explored a huge rocky outcropping a short
distance away and found two additions to our diet.  One was a thicket of
blackberries which were just beginning to ripen.  We managed to pick and
eat some without getting into the briars and we stopped only when we
couldn't find any more black ones.  I knew we'd have to check it every day
early in the morning to beat the birds to the fruit.  We also found an
herb, rosemary, growing among the rocks.  When I broke off a twig and
smelled the strong aromatic scent my mother loved, I knew I would be using
it in cooking.

   Later that day, I looked at myself in the mirror and decided it was time
to use the crème for hair removal.  The first time I had used it, shortly
after my arrival, I had snipped my moustache with scissors, rubbed the
crème on my face, laid out on the terrace for fifteen minutes with my face
exposed to the sun, and then showered, just as the instructions said.  I
had been amazed as my week-old beard disappeared down the drain.  I had
been pleased with the result.  My chin and cheeks and throat felt as smooth
as any good shave I'd ever had.

   Aimee had told me that the crème needed to be used about once a month
and she was right.  After thirty days, I had about as much soft facial hair
as a young boy.

   Iain walked in the bathroom while I was looking in the mirror about to
apply the crème again.  He picked up the crème, stuck his finger in it, and
smelled it.

   "That's Nor; isn't it?  Do you think I need to use it again?"

   He lifted his face so I could look at it.  His cheeks looked as smooth
and hairless as always but I could see a faint dark growth on his upper
lip. I had assumed that he didn't need to shave yet and the faint mustache
was just the normal growth for a young male.  But he wanted to know if he
should use it again.

   "What did you call it?" I asked.

   "Nor.  It's called Nor.  Everybody uses it.  It's safe to use all over
and all the kids I know want to be hairless except on their heads and maybe
a little pubic patch.  Some don't even want a pubic patch.  I like it."

   "Well, why have I never heard of it?

   "I don't know.  Maybe it's something European.  I don't know much about
your country."

   "Do you use it?"

   "Sure.  I use it all over.  Cait...She said she liked...I mean.  Oh,
forget it."

   That was interesting.  Someone named Kate had said she liked Iain or
something about him after he had used something called Nor.  I didn't push
it but I didn't forget it either.

   "You say you use it all over?  On your testicles too?"

   "Yeah," he said.

   He reached down to his testicles, pulled them upward and looked closely
at them.  I couldn't see any hair on them until I zoomed in and saw an
occasional little short one.

   I pulled my testicles up and looked at them.  There were long hairs all
over them.  I tugged them to one side and saw the same dark hair back
between my legs and on my thighs.  I looked up and saw Iain looking at my
genitals.

   "If you'll share, I think I'll use some Nor on my face and on my
testicles," he said.  "You should too.  You'll like it.  You've got lots of
hair in the crack of your ass.  It looks strange.

   I had been criticized enough in my life but never for having a hairy ass
crack.  I decided I'd try the stuff.  According to Aimee it could be used
anywhere and the hair would eventually grow back.

   I watched carefully as he smeared a little Nor on his upper lip.  Then
he rubbed it on his testicles and behind them and part way up the shaft of
his dick.  I couldn't help but grin when his dick stood up, poked its head
out, and looked around.  He looked at me sheepishly and said, "I can't help
it.  It's got a mind of its own."

   He watched me just as carefully when I rubbed Nor on my face and throat.
He cautioned me that I needed to rub it in until it seemed to disappear and
I couldn't feel it.  Then I rubbed it on my testicles and behind them all
the way to my asshole and a little up the shaft of my dick until the Nor
disappeared.  My dick stood up about like Iain's.

   When I turned around and asked him to do my ass crack, he told me to do
my own fucking ass.  I stood there, feeling like a damn fool, rubbing my
fingers up and down my ass crack until I couldn't feel the Nor.

   I told Aimee we were going outside and asked her to let me know when
fifteen minutes had passed and again when a half hour had passed.  We took
a couple of blankets outside, stretched out on our backs, and let the sun
do its work.  Iain told me to spread my legs wide so the sun could get
between them.  I felt ridiculous but I did it.  My dick stayed hard and so
did Iain's.  I thought about jacking off but I wasn't sure yet whether I
should do it around him.

   When Aimee told us that fifteen minutes had passed, we both rolled over
on our stomachs.  Iain made me feel stupid again by telling me that I
needed to pull my ass cheeks apart to let the sunshine in.  I lay there,
eyes squinted, looking at Iain's white ass, with my fingers pulling my ass
cheeks apart so the sun could work its magic.  For a boy, his butt was sort
of sexy, maybe not as much as a girl's butt, but definitely sexy.  I could
understand why some guys liked to stick their dick in the hole between butt
cheeks as rounded and smooth as his.  Maybe I'd even try it if I got much
hornier and Anna didn't come to me.  I decided I'd better banish such
thoughts from my mind.

   "Hey, Iain, did you hear about the three brothers who went out West to
raise cattle?" I asked.

   "Uh uh" he groaned.

   "Do you know what they named their cattle ranch?"

   "Uh uh" he groaned again.

   "Sunset," I said.  "Because that's where the sun's rays meet.  Sons
raise meat, get it?"

   This time he just groaned and then I heard a sound like he was trying to
stifle something.

   "Hey, Iain, I'm thinking of renaming my asshole," I paused.  "To
Sunset."

   He groaned and then chuckled and said, "David, you've got to work on
your delivery if you want to be a comedian.  You should have paused just a
little longer."

   I reached over and stuck my fingers in his ribs.  He laughed and
squirmed away.

   When Aimee told me that thirty minutes had passed, we went back inside
and showered.  I was amazed at how easily all the treated hair washed away
in water.  I felt my hairless testicles and couldn't make up my mind
whether I liked them that way or not.  I hoped Anna would.

   <><><>

   A couple of days later, Iain and I had another good evening meal.  I
told him about my grandmère L'Héritier's marvelous French cooking and said
I wanted to see if I could come close to the frittata she made.  I sautéed
mushrooms and wild onions together, poured eight beaten eggs in the pan,
sprinkled the top with rosemary, waited until the eggs were barely cooked,
and then browned the top under a broiler.  I thought it was great and all
that was lacking was a baguette of bread.  The bowl of blackberries we had
for dessert was perfect.  Afterwards, I sat at a kitchen table while Iain
cleaned up.

   "Iain, have you thought any more about the questions I asked you," I
said.  "How did you get here?  Why are we here?"

   He stopped and looked at me.  I waited.  He finally said something.

   "David, I'd like to talk to you but for years my parents have told me
that I should never talk about....about what you're asking.  I had to
promise them I never would before they let me go with them.  Please don't
ask me to violate their trust.  Have you ever had something you just
couldn't talk about?"

   I had pulled a little more information out of him but I still didn't
have the answers to the important questions.  I thought for a minute or so
and then decided to tell him about my life.

   I invited him to sit down at table opposite me and then I told him the
uncensored truth about what happened when I was twelve years old and had
seen Mullah Muqtada al-Badr with my father's head.  I told him I had been
unable to speak for months afterward and how I had never been able to tell
anyone else the story until I met Anna.  He sat engrossed while I described
my mother's descent into despair and how she disappeared when I was
fourteen.  I told him how my grandfather and grandmother had raised me
after that and how I had gone to the Army Academy when I was seventeen.  I
told him about my combat experience and how I had become a sniper and how I
had met Anna and fallen in love with her.  Last I told him how I had been
selected to kill Muqtada al-Badr, the Grand Ayatollah of Islamistan.  When
I told him that, he leaned back with an expression on his face as though he
couldn't believe me.

   "You're the one who did that?" he asked.  "The news said it was the
other branch of Islam, Sunni or Shi'a or whatever.  I can never keep them
straight."

   "Yes, Iain, I did.  I killed him at the Imam al-Hussein Shrine in Mamoon
after mid-day prayers.  Afterwards I was trapped in a hotel next to the
plaza at the shrine.  Someone threw an explosive in my room and I thought I
had been killed.  Then I woke up here.  Now do you understand why I want to
know how and why I'm here?"

   "You don't know what happened after he was killed; do you?"

   "No, Iain, I don't.  What happened?"

   "The Sunni and Shi'a factions started fighting between themselves again,
David.  When I left, I mean, when I came here, they were back to killing
each other and the rest of the world was cheering them on.  Their expansion
seems to have stopped and may be starting to collapse."

   I was pleased to hear that our disinformation services had done their
job and the result had been what we had hoped for.  At the same time, I was
glad that my small part in the war was over.  I could not keep on fighting
and killing, no matter how evil the enemy was.  I was tired of death; I
wanted to live my life in peace.  I wanted to live my life with Anna and
our children.  I wanted to grow old with her, watching our children and
maybe grandchildren live their lives in peace.

   "How many men have you killed, David?" he asked.

   "Well, I told you about the seven jihadists I killed, the ones who tried
to ambush us.  Then, the day I shot al-Badr, I killed seven in all, shot
six and let one feel the edge of Big Boy's blade.  That's fourteen.  I
killed two jihadists another day and then just one three times.  Is that
nineteen?"

   He sat and looked at me for a minute.  "Does it bother you, to kill so
many men?"

   "Yes, Iain, it bothers me a lot but they were all jihadists who wanted
to kill me and all the infidels like you.  I'm sick of killing and I hope I
never have to do it again.  That's one reason I like it here, where the
only killing I do is for food.  If I could be with Anna again, this would
be paradise."

   <><><>

   Six days passed in which I didn't ask Iain the questions again.  The
news about the war had cheered me for a day or so but I slowly began to
sink back into restlessness and anger and depression.  I wanted to control
my own life.  I liked the peace and quiet of living in this strange new
world but without the woman I loved the place was hell.  I thought
constantly about her, wondering what had happened to her and whether she
would ever come to me and whether I would ever again be complete with her.

   During that time, I took Iain to the top of the mountain and let him
discover the strange domes covering what looked like solar panels.  We
agreed that it was probably the power supply for everything in our home. 
He stood, as I had done, and looked and looked all around the horizon and I
knew what he was looking for.  I let him see for himself that there were no
signs of anyone else.

   Another day, we went down the mountain to check on my fish trap.  Iain
wanted to visit the beach first so we did and it was just as much fun the
second time.  When we went to the pool, my trap had done its job.  There
were lots of fish trapped in the pool, most of them small ones but some
almost as large as the one Iain speared.  We speared all we wanted to carry
back up the mountain.  I decided to ask Aimee for instructions on how to
make a dip net and how to smoke fish as soon as possible.

   The next day, we checked the rabbit traps and found we had two kills.  I
disabled the snares until we needed more.  We worked in the garden that
afternoon and picked our first vegetables, radishes, lettuce, and snow
peas. When we checked the potato patch near the terrace, I saw that the
vines were beginning to wilt and I knew we would be digging potatoes one
day soon.

   That night, I lay in my bed in the dark with my hand wrapped around my
hard-to-bursting penis and listened to the sounds of Iain masturbating. 
The hard breathing, the grunts, and moans left no doubt that he was doing
the same thing I intended to do.  I decided to join him in his bed.

   "Lights on dim," I said, as I rolled out of my bed and went to Iain's.

   He blinked rapidly at the lights, quickly covered up his genitals with
his hands, and looked up at me with surprise in his eyes.  I stood there
beside his bed with my penis pointing up at the usual angle.  He looked at
it, and then looked back at my face, and I could see on his face that he
was puzzled.

   "Move over," I said, and he scooted farther back in his sleeping alcove
and again covered his genitals with his hands.

   "What are you doing, David?" he asked.

   I couldn't tell what sort of emotion I heard in his voice, perhaps,
surprise, shame, fear, certainly not welcome.  I crawled in his bed and
stretched out beside him.  I didn't try to cover my hard-on.  I wanted him
to see it.

   "Iain, there's no reason to be ashamed of what you're doing.  We both
know we do it almost every night.  I think it's time we admitted it and we
can both do it with the lights on.  Move your hands."

   He kept his hands covering his penis and testicles.  I wrapped my right
hand around my penis, reached over with my left and pulled his right hand
away.  I had seen his penis erect when he first arrived.  Now, it looked to
me like it was average size when erect, maybe a little larger, straight
with a white shaft and blood-red head, a nice looking penis but nothing
extraordinary.  His testicles were hairless and pink, maybe like a young
man's.

   "Now, let's do it together," I said and started stroking my penis.

   He watched me doing it for a minute and then smiled shyly at me and
started doing it too.  I watched him doing it, glanced at his face, and saw
that he was watching me doing it,

   I suppose we were both horny as usual.  Maybe Iain's age gave him the
edge.  He came before I did and squirted out about six streams of semen
from his face down to his stomach.  He turned to look at me and grinned
with one big blob drooling down over one eye onto his cheek.

   I came a few second later.  I didn't decorate myself the same way he
did. I just laid down a heavy trail over my chest and stomach.  I looked at
Iain.  He was still grinning and breathing heavily.  I reached over toward
his face and, when he closed his eyes, I wiped his semen off his face with
my finger and smeared it on his chest.

   I thought how ridiculous it was for either of us to want to masturbate
in the dark.  We were the only two here.  We were both subject to the same
undeniable urgency of our testicles making millions of sperm each day and
pouring out a river of testosterone.  If this was to be my world, I knew
masturbating was not going to be a sin and something to be ashamed of and
hidden.  It was going to be something we could do in celebration of life
and being male and could share it if we wanted to.  Damn, it certainly
didn't need to be hidden.  I didn't want it to be.  None of this god
forbids shit and sin and shame for something that's simply normal for young
males.

   I waited until my breathing slowed down close to normal, grinning at
Iain and seeing him grinning back at me.

   "Iain, I'm damned proud to be a man and you should be too," I said.  "We
both know we masturbate constantly.  From now on, I'm going to do it any
time I want to.  I've done it in bed in the dark.  I've done it outdoors in
the sunshine.  I've done it from the peak of the mountain down to the
seashore.  We can do it together.  We can to it separately.  But damn it,
we're going to do it and we both know we are.  I'm going to celebrate
having a dick and balls and being so horny I could fuck a knot hole in a
tree.  It's what makes me what I am and I like it.  Damn, I like it!  I
like being a man!  You should too!"

   "Yeah but..." he started and then cut himself off.

   "Yeah, but what, Iain," I insisted.  "Come on, spit it out."

   "It's just that I'm not like you.  You're big...and you're strong....and
your dick's lots bigger than mine.  And you've killed lots of guys and I've
never done anything like that.  I just feel...I don't know...I just feel
like I'm not much of a man in comparison to you."

   "Iain, you've been a real man since you came here.  I mean it.  You
don't complain.  You've worked hard.  You do everything I ask you to do. 
Anyway, how old are you?" I asked.

   "I've just turned eighteen," he said, proudly.  "I'm supposed to be a
man."

   "Iain, I was taller than you at eighteen but, at about sixteen, I looked
a lot like you.  My father gave me genes for a big dick so I can't take
credit for that.  Why does our penis size make any difference?  Yours looks
like it's average, maybe a little bit bigger."

   "Yeah, but you're strong and....I wish I could be like you, not like me
with no muscles."

   "If you really mean that, Iain, I can help you.  All it takes is regular
exercise and diet and a good workout regimen.  I usually work out every
morning.  Why don't you join me?  You can make your body into whatever you
want it to be."

   "You really think I could?" he asked.

   "Yeah, now let's go take a shower together.  I'll scrub your back if
you'll scrub mine."
   TO BE CONTINUED: