In a painted room with giant curtains I find him on a bed of Rose petals. I’ve followed him through the wilderness and now he’s before me. His clothes are neatly gathered on a chair beside the open door.
His cock like a sundial. His body spread out in anticipation. He sees me and he smiles. I’m uncertain but I must be dreaming.
He speaks softly in whispers. I move closer to the bedside. He’s as stiff as when I first noticed his dick pointing upwards towards the ceiling of a painted scene, It’s an orgy in vivid detail upon the ceiling in bold colors.
My hands move instinctively across his bare flesh. I could resist the temptation but why should I?
He motions for me to become like him, sans clothing. I waste no time becoming bare as he has been all of this time.
He pulls me closer. His lips move to greet me. I feel weaker as my shaft vanishing like a magic act between his lips. I’m uncertain but I may never want to to go home again.
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Jason Whitaker 