Levi's Tale

Fantastic how my life changed. Went from the world of finance into the literary arts in a most implausible way. Catapulted into fame thorough coming centuries with simple text. Small book, only twenty-seven chapters or so. It was about our leader, our beloved teacher, and about love.

Divine love—the greater love and though I'd known little of love, it was poured upon me by other men surrounding the teacher. In turn, we poured our love upon our followers. Some called us a cult yet we held no one against their will, no force. Guilt, and shame, yes, we depended on those universally successful strategies but who doesn't? Studied diligently under the master and became his evangelist.

Our cult suffered in the beginning, as all do. My alumni and I scattered from dastardly regimes, took our teachings to calmer shores. My years in the middle east, bringing light and hope to pagans were exciting times, only the spirit of my teacher saved me from being a cannibal's repast. Yet so alone, I often felt forgotten, forsaken and certainly misused; I doubted the Divine Teacher and myself, especially when I dealt with Fulvus. And don't bring up his wife and children—ugh! Perhaps it was me; hard to be bright and bon vivant so far from home.

Evangelism is rewarding work yet ever so repetitive; my faith wavered as my black curls paled. Through that time, I gained expanded insights about earth and souls. Every soul's been battered, so many dreams shattered through the centuries, how can a person ever feel at ease on this planet? I let my flock know it was alright, good times return, if not now, later. "You are loved, always will be," reminding myself in my sermons.

A heavy weariness filled me. Came the time when my own soul felt battered and beaten to its knees. Had no idea that all I'd loved and lived so far was preparing me for another pursuit with that humbling. In my exhausted state, I was visited to be introduced to the next and the most important task of my life.

* * *

Dreamed I was dying, my soul rose above me, and looked back down on the body of an older man, a solitary, sad older man. My soul smiled with reassurance. Unexpectedly, I returned the smile.

I saw a child traveling toward earth on a ship of chrysanthemum petals in the dream. He met me in the middle of time, an uncertain age, and we watched the earth as it spun. Fires of conflicts striped the atmosphere, people moved across the barren lands like great herds across wide plains. The earth blackened; we waited. Yellows, browns and green slowly appeared and wide stretches of blue as it whirled in space. A small voice in my heart told me what I saw happen on earth was love; I would write of Divine Love for those who came later.

* * *

Years ago, I'd seen my Divine Teacher killed. The government was brutal about it, a bloody, drawn-out affair. Made an example of him—couldn't have people worshipping anything but a politician or some strange abstract form established to be everything to all. Yes, I needed to record all that.

Then I realized that it was my Divine Teacher who came to me in that dream on a ship of semi-transparent flower petals. He came as a boy. Truly, the most angelic boy, radiating a love more innocent than the unborn, more precious than earth itself and he refired my enthusiasm and exposed my hidden penchant for the sprightly nature and soft feet of lads...

The next night, he brought pen and ink, rolls of thick, smooth skins, "Write, Levi."

"Um, you know my heart, right?"

"Yes. I knew before you were born, remember I'm the holy three-in-one. I know everything, so let's get going. I'll say the words, you write."

"Why did you come here as a boy? Am I being tempted? Are you provoking me? I've been celibate for years. Why didn't you come as a horrible beast?"

"Understand, Matthew, and know that I am paradise; that I am the comforter. I am the power of the powers above, I the strength of those that restrain themselves, I the crown of the virgins, and a savior who was once a mortal has needs... Have to take a break from the bright lights and harps. What say we write a little, then play a little? How's your Aramaic these days?"

Did he really say that? "Aramaic's fine, I think."

"Be a man and be strong, Levi. Don't burn my dictation time dithering."

"What kind of book are we writing?"

"Well, it's propaganda, sorta. There's this old cult. They keep saying they're waiting for me. After my third trip they still won't believe I'm the messiah. They're holding out for a better deal, maybe angels and crowns, lots of hoopla. Ain’t gonna happen.”

Unrolled the leathers and we began. That first night we covered his mortal birth. I hesitated knowing that the dove insemination scenario would be more than humans would buy into. He explained that it wasn't a new concept. Ancient Greek girls used it often after cavorting with their earthly lovers, "Oops, Dad. Zeus musta done it when I was asleep. Coulda been Cronus, he's back in town." What could a parent say when they were going to have a demi-god grandchild?

I wrote line after line into the night. He sat on my lap at the table, slowly spinning his tale and correcting my punctuation. Wasn't so bad, the corrections. I found out if I attempted an extra semicolon, he'd wiggle his butt and twitch the intimately-placed tip of his wing. Alas, my punctuation was extremely poor that evening. Forgive me.

After I finished his description of the Magi, "Rub my feet." He demanded.

Prayers answered, he lay on my simple bed and lifted a foot into my hand. Of course, it was perfect, completely unblemished. Took it and kissed the top, working his toes and smiling at him. Now I gotta say that the thoughts that came to my mind were darkly carnal. "Hold on, Levi," I thought, I had to get it up and keep it up. Wasn't so sure, after all, this was the savior, and he'd already died a nasty death. That doused my desire momentarily—couldn't rectify the chronology.

"You need another commandment?" He chirped.

"Sorry, dithering again." My hands worked their way up his ankles, to his calves, he was humming, enjoying this; feathers rustled. Moved further and smelled tuberoses and something invitingly sweet. Took a deep breath, trying to figure it out. "What smells so good?" I whispered to the reclining child.

"Rapture. Great, huh?" He shifted and tucked his wings behind him. His slender hands touched my cheek as he fluttered those long, black eyelashes.

Like a panther, I pounced. My head under his glowing robes, growling and rubbing my wiry beard on a small quivering rod. He laughed, laughed loudly, almost screaming as I tickled and chomped at his nuts and began toward his short rod. Feeling his fingers in my hair as I took him in my lips. Suddenly felt like I was shimmering—is that what a halo feels like? Inspired, I rubbed, licked and sucked everywhere I could reach.

Eagerly and easily he offered his perfect rear, perfect knees splayed and nodded. Oh, yes. Heavenly. My robes flew across the table spilling the ink bottle.

"Fill it with water. I do wine; I can do ink." He quipped.

In a thick cloud of rapture, I placed myself at his hole. He smiled, hands caressing my face, "You were always my favorite."

I leaned to kiss him. Couldn't help but think that he said that to John and Andrew previously in this same position.

"I heard that." He shot me a look. "Watch the coveting."

Back on task, couldn't let that distract me and as soon as my dripping slit touched that fine, tight muscle, it began. Perfect resistance, begging me to penetrate; break into his tiny, wet channel. Could I hurt him? Had he reverted to his virginhood? Glancing to his face, he answered me with a dimpled smile.

Ooo, had to have those lips. Could the kid kiss? As soon as his tiny pointed tongue played with mine, I felt a galactic sigh and my body relaxed on top of him. Funniest thing - the taste of coconut macaroons filled my mouth, sweet and heavy behind a whiff of tuberoses.

He held me gently, twitching his wings when I nipped in play. Had to get my cock into this, my rod was full, hot and needy. I moved and his body glided downward without physical movement as his tender thighs parted wide. Soft skin on my belly, that tender nose, his eyelashes grazed my skin.

Being a sensitive man, I stopped and thought about this as my erection vanished. Something missing here. This was too easy. Looking into the boy's eyes, "Could we do man-boy instead of man-supreme? Maybe set aside the omniscience, omnipotence and all the perfection till I get off?"

"You love me."

"Sure I do. But I'm mortal—I need a little more fire. Need some ‘predator and prey,’ ‘catch and surrender.’ Toy with me, play me. I need more excitement, a dash of fear, perhaps."

He flashed his face into the devil for a split second and a whiff of sulfur passed my nose.

"Too fearsome. Be a human boy, unknowing and vulnerable." I hesitated, "Maybe you could adore me for a Cairo minute? That would be great."

A dreamy look came to his eyes, and the smell of tuberoses was replaced by sweat, dirty feet and he gave me a crooked smile. Turning himself face down, I saw his wings were gone, only the smooth, dark skin of a boy who'd been swimming in the Jordan. Ah! I finally detected a whiff of dick paste and a rush of memories came flooding back of all the boy's offered or taken before... the other disciples, a few of the flock.

The muscles on his butt twitched, and a soft voice came from the blankets, "Daddy?"

The oil in my lamp exploded into a bonfire of passion. I rammed, pushed hard. His screams were muffled, and he struggled to get away. Still pumping, I gathered him back under me when his arms sneaked out. Fast, I had to be fast, he was trying to escape. "Daddy has to anoint you," I whispered roughly and continued plowing into his tight hole, balls slapping time to my excitement. When I had him pressed firmly against my bed, I kept my dick deep, only moving my hips slightly feeling the heaven inside him.

Felt his faint contractions around my shaft. He was in orgasm. Those small flinches caused me to center myself inside him as far as possible. Only a few thrusts later and I'd flooded the boy's lower colon fully. My battered soul stood upright after that sacrament. I sighed and kissed his neck. The smell of tuberoses again filled the air.

* * *

My love visited me at all hours. Each time he'd come as a different boy, a different age—some very young, and some with the honeyed spunk. Fed my soul as we worked through writing of compassion and forgiveness. Of course, we had to practice a few of those lessons with spankings, biting and plenty of lingual contrition. Oh, to hear him beg for mercy!

Came to the topic of hypocrisy. He said humans really need this. We wrote a while about duplicity until he decided to taunt and tease me with all kinds of angelic garb and fluttered around the room as prissy as a virgin whore upping her bids. We laughed that night, roaring with his antics, then I had to catch him. When I violently ripped the lovely black and red silk from his slender form, I was surprised to find a girl-boy. My goodness, that was fun and a perfect lesson on pretense. Too bad he wouldn't let me write of it—classic stuff. Classic.

* * *

One afternoon, my little lover alit with a somber face. "Immortality, that's the topic today."

"Ah! The reward!" I was ready to write, quill in hand.

He kept flitting about, unable to still himself to sit on my lap. Tricky passage to write, we worked into the night and he blurred the concepts. I called him on it, "Make it easy, please. So many aren’t educated. They need to understand."

"Write it as I tell you. This book will be alongside many others. Non-fiction can be a mystery too."

Our enactment of immortality was incredible. He came as a teen to seduce me with song and touches, dancing slowly with me in his arms as he hummed the most praise-filled hymns, they were all about his father, or him. I was his father for those moments, so they were about me.

I submitted to him. It had been a long time, and I took him in my arms and wrapped my bony legs around those tender hips. Amazed as I looked into his loving eyes, he gave me that crooked smile, I smelled an older boy's musk, the acrid sweat of a young man's pits. He reached down and grabbed my legs behind my knees, placing my ankles on his shoulders. Glancing downward between my legs, was his juice glowing? I didn't care, "Hurry, son."

My rod was full to bursting and leaking on my belly, "Hurry." Needed to feel the sting and the incredible fullness of a hard cock probing. Closed my eyes and hummed as his foreskin touched my cleft.

He rubbed his fluids, "Do you love me?"

"More than you know, my sweet, more than you know. Back at it now, please?"

He chuckled and lurched. I gasped—he was bigger and more rigid than I'd imagined. His hips shoved hard, stretching, burning my anus. "Ow!"

He grinned, "You said hurry. Doesn't my rod, my staff comfort you?"

"Not yet."

Lowering himself on me, he called me his best daddy and kissed my neck, tweaking my nipples. Finally, "Is it good now?"

"Oh, yeah."

We proceeded to the most tactile demonstration of immortality imaginable. Beyond anything this mortal could dream, our mating continued through the morning and into the evening burgeoning with ecstasy, periods of calming lulls, soaring passion met with the moment of his release. Smooth brown arms straight, with elbows locked, hands beside my head, he was deep and began moaning softly. I could only smile; I'd emptied myself too often that day.

When he came, I stilled, feeling a warmth inside me. It coursed my body and I felt it permeate every muscle, every cell—my brain filled with images while he leaned his head back continuing to discharge life eternal. No words to describe immortality as I felt the concept envelope us. Beyond heaven, beyond hell, beyond anything ever written and it was greater, too expansive for words. When he'd emptied the idea into me, he simply winked and lowered himself into my embrace in a mist of tuberoses' hallelujah.

* * *

Our next topic was sin. I suggested we explain sin through examination of intention, he shook his pretty curls. "Humans are going to try to bend the rules. We're going to make one unforgiveable sin and gloss over the rest."

Carefully, I applied his words to leather while his hand sneaked under my robe. I felt Sin 101 class in session. Carefully, I penned a semicolon to see what would happen.

He laughed at me and squeezed my rod. "Here's the trick, Dad. The only real sin is to love someone else more than me. Practice on the people around you and get closer to my complete rapture later. Get it?”

"Wonderful." My rod was leaking as I sensed the tuberoses aroma. "Let’s go back to immortality tonight. I forgot the talking points."

* * *

We came to the parables, the first was of wise and foolish virgins. Easy; stay prepared. Once baptized is not forever clean, it's an on-going process.

The goats and the sheep—that brought a lesson on discernment. Followers needed discretion that came through patience and wisdom. Best not to frolic with non-believers, they’ll confuse things. My love came to me as a goat that night, then as a sheep. I was blindfolded. Have to say I enjoyed the ewe more than the goat, though both were enticing—he only gave me a sample.

When he reverted into a pre-pubescent cherub, I admitted I preferred my little shepherd boy. "My sweet son, please don't bring the animals again, they've made a mess on my rug."

He grinned as I looked down to see my legs become furry, my feet morphed in to cloven hooves. My puny dick plumped to the size of a shofar. My scalp itched, I reached to touch horns forming behind my temples; long, coarse hair appeared on my arms and belly. Was I a satyr?

My feet clicked on the stone floor as I chased the boy. The little sprite laughed and eluded me at every turn. Sweaty, I reeked of barns and stalls; manure. Poured water into my wash basin and stuck my face to it, lapping and slobbering like a jackass and groaning like a camel. I couldn't speak any longer.

He watched from over the window, and slowly sidled toward me. "Ever been to Delphi?" He giggled, looking me over with an eyebrow lifted.

Potent? I felt super-potent that night as my little teacher's sphincter stretched almost to rupture. He moaned, grabbing and pulling at the long hair on my arms as I opened him widely with my camelid rod. Suddenly, intuitively I was electrified with primal need to hump hard.

My love played it to the hilt trying to escape, begging me to stop. I was fueled by a beastly rush of adrenalin, full-mating mode and completely deaf to his cries. His tenderness was dismissed entirely as I rutted and inundated his small hole again and again, braying and whinnying. Didn't stop for quite a while, had to make sure he was well seeded—my only purpose on earth during those fiery moments.

We fell into each other. Wanted to kiss him, but my lips were hairy and too big to bring into a pucker. "I beseech you to take this from me."

* * *

My love left. Only a few long, red hairs left where I'd mated him the night before. Got a strange feeling that my writing was finished. I'd never see him again. Disappointment filled my soul yet I continued evangelizing and preaching with a deeper sense of the divine love. He'd taught me much.

Sadly I began packing, readying to leave Hamedan for Sulaymaniyah, maybe Tabriz when I heard a tapping at my door. Went to find a boy, arms full of sticks and twigs.

"Why, who are you?" I asked, he was very young to be selling door-to-door.

"Adam. Need kindling? It's dry and ready to burn." Oh, a dimpled smile!

"Do you live around here?"

"Yatom." He whispered after a few moments and looked aside, ashamed of being orphaned.

My heart melted and I looked skyward, "Thank you." Then, I looked at the boy, "Well, Adam the yatom, come in."

End

My thanks to FEC.