I looked up. How long had he been watching me staring? I blinked, trying to make it look as if I had simply been deep in thought, miles away, as if I did not realise where my gaze had been resting. He was no longer smiling, his brow was wrinkled and he was biting a nail. He was offering me the envelope.
My throat was dry. Trickles of sweat weaved through the hair at the back of my head. The air had suddenly become oppressively warm, uncomfortable.
As I took the envelope I looked directly into his eyes. They were the only cold thing in the room.
Sweat was now running from my forehead and into my eyes and I wiped them with the back of my hand. When I looked back at him he was leaning forward, both feet on the floor, both elbows on his knees, his intertwined fingers formed a bridge to support his smooth, serious face. My eyes flashed immediately to the reshaped mound inside his jeans. It now strained against the material, a tight bulge of soft flesh between his dark legs.
What strange set up was this? What game had my uncle prepared for me, and why? I had hardly known him but he, quite clearly had known me. He had brought me across Europe to the company of a subservient, handsome youth. He had even provided the atmosphere. I felt as if he was still somewhere nearby, in the half light scrutinising me from the shadows, waiting to judge me worthy or not. Lamplight played on the high wooden ceiling, darting from one side of the room to the other, preparing to spread the gossip throughout the entire house. And the house itself seemed to hold its breath. A floorboard creaked back into place and then felt silent.
Alex stared at me for a moment, giving nothing away, and then nodded towards my envelope.
My hands were trembling as I fumbled with the seal. Not because I was afraid of what I would find written inside but because of the hope of what might happen next. I knew that I wanted him but I did not know what he wanted. I took out the thin piece of velum that the envelope contained and held it towards the light. My uncle's usual three sentence message, his usual economy for words, his three passions:
'I found him here on my travels, he is yours now. He is the most precious of jewels. He is your gift from heaven.'
I replaced the paper and looked back at Alex in silence. A period of time passed between us edged with embarrassment, confusion and anticipation. As the lamps dimmed so did the embarrassment. As he stood and took my hand I no longer felt confused but, as he led me towards the black shape that was the bed the anticipation grew.
And the night changed around me.
He undressed me, tenderly in silence and I felt no shame at being tended to. He brought water in a bowl, washed my feet with gentle hands, sponged my hot face with a cool towel. He stood before me as I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his long fingers into the taught muscles of my neck making deep, wide circles and pushing the stress from them. He bent my head forward as he massaged my neck, brought my face to within an inch of his stomach. I felt my breath reflected back to me when I breathed out. It returned to me with the scent of his exotic soap, his sweat.
As he plied my scalp with his strong fingers I dared to raise my hands. They came to rest on his narrow hips, my thumbs pressed within the V of muscle that ran down from his sides.
He murmured something and bent down to me. He kissed me lightly on the lips, cradled my face in his hands, and pushed his weight against me.
'I have been waiting for you,' he whispered. 'And I have waited too long.'
With a swift movement he lifted my legs and turned me, lay me on the bed. I felt the warmth of his tongue on my foot and jolted in surprise as he gripped my ankles and pressed my legs firmly down. His mouth pressed wet against my skin as he inched his way upwards. I threw my head back against the mattress as his hot breath whispered against my balls. I reached for his head, desperate to take it and point it towards my cock. I needed to feel myself inside his mouth.
But he knew what he was doing.
'In good time my friend,' he said.
I looked down the length of my body and saw his deep brown eyes reflecting the lamplight that trembled excitedly around us. He lifted his head so that I could see his smile.
His eyes never left mine as his fingers deftly took hold of my cock and bent it towards his smile. He glanced at the tip and then back at me, his tongue shot out, touched it once and darted back in again. His smile became more impish, he was teasing me.
He fixed me with the same, serious stare as I had seen before and slowly opened his mouth. His grip on my cock tightened and his other hand pressed against my thigh as he supported himself. His mouth opened further, his tongue reached out. He looked deep into my eyes and finally closed his lips around my cockhead.
I let go a long, grateful moan as he slid slowly downwards, all the time exploring my shaft with his tongue, until his face nudged against the sweaty tangle of my pubic hair. Both hands held me by the thighs as he shifted onto his knees and then they softly stroked from my knees to my hips and back again, mirroring the action of his rising and falling head. I felt myself sinking into him, all senses focusing on where his mouth met my cock, where his fingers fondled and squeezed at my balls. I pictured his smile as I touched his hair, explored the side of his face, the hollows in his cheeks as he drew back, touched his wet lips with my fingers as he slid down.
The night grew darker. A lamp guttered and went out as the inquisitive breeze explored the room. The sweat on my chest turned cold as the scent of the forest passed by me. His hands moved up my body, gripped my sides, he pulled me into him, encouraged me to take the rhythm. I did. He let me penetrate his mouth at my own pace as his fingers sought out my nipples and played there.
My back arched and I felt the tip of my cock press the back of his throat. He moaned again as I pushed into him further and craned my neck again to look at him. He was prostrate before me as if in worship, his back bent, his arms stretched before him over my chest. His shoulders glistened under a thin film of sweat. I was aware that my hands were on his arms now and I was pulling him from me, towards me. His hands slipped from my chest and onto the bed as he raised his head, letting my cock fall from his mouth to slap back against my stomach. It was blonde and pale against his tanned body.
'Come here,' I whispered.
Before he did he bent his head once more and nipped the underside of my shaft with his lips, firmly, once.
He lowered himself over me and from inside the coarse material of his jeans, his cock pressed against. Our faces met and we kissed. I held his head and pulled him closer to me.
My hands began a journey; from his broad shoulders, over their smooth blades and to his spine that rose and fell in undulations towards the small of his back. Lower I travelled until my fingers slipped into the back of his jeans and I felt a soft downy covering of hair. I could journey no further.
He sat up and away from me then, kneeling between my legs, and looking at me.
'I knew when I first heard of you,' he said and his breathing was fast, 'that this is where we would be led.'
He rose carefully up on the bed until he was standing over me. From his wide shoulders down to his slim waist the whole purpose of his body was to direct my eyes to his groin. I fixed my gaze there as he slowly, teasingly, undressed.
The shadows of the night were blacker around his naked crotch. His Satyr legs darkened as they rose towards his hips. Between them, his cock stood out from the blackness around it, its moist tip glinting in the light. He stood with his legs astride me like a young colossus, regal and assured.
And then he lowered himself so that he was sitting naked on my stomach. I felt the damp heat between his legs as he came to rest on my flesh. The hair of his legs brushed against me.
'Say nothing,' he said and reached to somewhere beyond my head.
His stomach pressed against my face, his cock touched my throat and I longed to bend and take it in my mouth. But I could not move. Instead I folded my arms around him and let my hands slip downwards, towards the furry cheeks of his arse.
I breathed in his scent of youth and sweat when he slowly slid back down my body and licked his smooth chest. He reached behind himself, I heard the tearing of a wrapper, felt his gentle hands on my straining cock and gave in to him. I knew what he wanted.
His tongue was in me again, his soft lips tasted only of me. I gripped his backside and it was as solid as the darkness behind my closed eyes. My fingers edged towards their goal, their tips daring deeper until I touched on wrinkled flesh. As I touched him there he pressed his lips harder against me and sighed. He had given me his permission. He slid his body further up mine allowing me more room and my finger penetrated without restriction. I cupped his small, firm backside and circled my finger inside him as his rigid cock pressed as desperately as his lips against me. His balls were squashed against my stomach, his cock hot and hard above them. Expertly he slid downwards once more as we kissed again. His hand was guiding my cock. Without breaking his movement I felt it pressed against a warm barrier; but there was little resistance as it broke through. He continued down, our damp bodies slithering into place, until his balls were pressed against my pubes and my cock was bathed in his deep warmth.
He was filled, I was in him. I imagined his dark body caught in the lamplight as my shaft buried into him, his hole stretched wide and willing.
It felt good there, it felt right.
Together we moved as gently as the breeze, as slowly as the time. There was no rush, no desperation. Nothing broke the continuous, gentle rhythm. As I slid into him so he slid onto me. His cock grew fatter against me, harder and hotter. But still we moved slowly; perfectly timed bodies against each other as friction built.
'I have waited too long,' he sighed again.
'Who are you?'
'I can wait no longer.'
I felt a subtle twitch and a new heat held our bodies together. He kissed me harder, gasped once and bit gently at my lip. I heard him restrain a cry as the heat between us intensified and he shuddered. I gripped his thighs, I was trying to push him away but keep him close at the same time.
'I don't want this to end.' His voice was clear but jagged as each word was accompanied by a thrusting of his hips. He slid his cock quicker against my flesh, jerked his body harder onto me and impaled himself deeper with every gasped syllable. 'I have wanted you for so long...'
'Who are you?'
I could not hold back. As I felt him splatter my stomach I knew that I was trapped. He punched himself onto my swelling cock harder and bit at my neck.
'Please, come in me,' he begged. 'Please, I need to feel you inside...'
I could not break the rhythm, the spell.
He groaned out loudly as he continued to grind his hips over me. His arms gripped tighter around my shoulders, his nails dug in.
'Come in me, be a part of me. Let me feel you take me.'
As he tightened his muscles I could do nothing to stop the flow that my balls were releasing. He was milking me, drawing it out. I could not break his rhythm as it forced its way to my cock, swelled it, burned within it. The firmness of his kiss muffled my helpless cries as I emptied myself over and over again deep inside him.
My pumping continued until I knew there could be no more and we came to a stop. His breathing slowed as he laid his head on my shoulder and I slid out of him. When my cock finally fell flaccid between my legs I felt the filled condom slip from it, pulled by the weight of what he had taken from me. There came a subtle kiss of cool night air on my spent, empty balls.
I felt no tiredness after that, only his hard body lying over me and his soft face on my cheek.
And now, six years on, as the island settles night after night into blackness I still hear nothing but his breathing when he lays his head on my shoulder.
I see nothing but an image of us entwined, dark on light, watched only by the whispering lamps, touched only by the curious breeze, our exhausted wet flesh glistening in a world asleep.