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 The Most Beautiful Creature I Ever Knew

   By Adrian Mailenna Obligatory Disclaimer: This text contains sexually
explicit material, and a little drug use.  Readers not inclined to such
things, or under the age of legal consumption of such material should find
something else to read.

   I never thought of myself as gay.  I still don't.  But every morning, I
wake beside my beloved, his bittersweet aftertaste still in my mouth, and
his warm, soft flesh nestled warmly against mine.  He's a special case,
unique in all the world to me.

   It started when he moved into my apartment, a refugee from the noise and
crowds of the dorms.  He was tall, with a shy, beautiful smile and
expressive, bright-blue eyes that could sparkle from across the room.  I
remember his eyes.  There was this amazing hunger in them, an insatiable
hunger for life.  He took peyote and Delerium CDs, dozens of books and even
more lovers, washing his sheets more often than most people washed their
clothes.  "It's only money" actually meant something to him; it was a
mantra, a motto, a way of life; he never made much, but he spent it like
water.  Life was for living, and money was only a way to live it, as
always, to the fullest.  And he never burned out.

   At least, he never showed it.

   They say that the peyote opens your eyes and your heart, that it shows
you the truth behind the world.  I don't know what he saw in that vision,
the one that brought him to me, his cheeks wet with tears, to empty his
soul to me, and I don't really care to know.  But I held him there, safe,
listening through the mescaline dream as he pressed against me and touched
his soul to mine.  Somewhere in that comforting, I realized that he was,
inside and out, the most beautiful creature that I had ever known.

   I told him that, and he looked up, smiled, and kissed me.  The world
whirled around me, and, in that transcendental haze of thought, I could see
all that I had ever loved in his blossoming personality.  Kisses grew into
warm, gentle exploration, and soon he had stripped me naked, murring as I
followed suit, letting my fingertips trace his soft, sleek body, where
golden tan gave way to gentle, creamy white.  He was a wonderous lover,
skilled with his tongue and even more delightful as he squirmed beneath me,
pressing hard against my hips.  I even gave myself to him that night,
watching the world explode into a pure white of orgasmic bliss as he came
to me.

   The morning light shone on us, still curled in my bed, his cock still
nestled in the crease of my rear.  It hurt to move my legs, and, as I
turned to look at his sleeping face, I thought that I should feel betrayed,
or disgusted, or violated, somehow.  I tried to rouse the feeling.  It
could not come.  The peyote had long worn away, but still I saw that
wonderous beauty within him.  I've never forgotten it.

   -- Copyright 2004 Adrian Mailenna.

   Personal use encouraged.  All other rights reserved.
   ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/adrian_mailenna