Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/234

 likes you … he's your friend … don't be afraid … Abide with us restless seekers of love and we shall teach you."

He listened to hear if the imagined call would continue. Listened for the soft voice to tell him more … but it was gone.

All the endeavors of his life seemed drawn into the blazing fulfillment of this moment. He asked himself if he was really here. If this was really happening. In his own experience when something was about to happen to him, particularly anything rather unpleasant, he always had a vague sort of a preview of what was coming. It was like a net in which he had been caught, but it was not unpleasant to be caught … In fact he did not want to escape. There was joy in the captivity, and in it, all the freedom that his former life had never given him.

Gaylord could only lay there baffled. He wanted to touch Paul's hair softly and tell him that it was all right. He wanted to put his arms around him and draw him close to him, but the idea still seemed preposterous.

Paul's hands found Gaylord's face and moved over each ear; and then his head bent, lips met his and they were warm and loving. After a moment, they drew away. Gaylord fixed them with his gaze, taking their image to his brain to hold through the darkness he knew was coming.

Faggot. He had received his answer to this question, and now, what new mysteries were soon to unfold?

Paul raised his hand and with a magic touch the light faded; the luminous naked figure darkened. Again he felt lips on his and the knot went from Gaylord's throat. He felt his shirt being opened and pulled from his trousers. Should he get up and fly from the room before it was too late. Fly from the hands feeling … groping … Again his throat choked up; his legs tightened. He heard a voice and raised his body obeying a command softly spoken. He filled his vision with Paul, drawing at his shirt, imagining the fingers fumbling around each button. Passion was tearing his limbs; the weight of a love mate was crushing him as he felt warm breath over his naked hard nipples. Visions of what was happening came as clear as reality, with a million thoughts. He grabbed at the head on his chest … "Don't, Paul," he panted … "That tickles." 224