Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2008 08:53:17 -0400
From: zak556@aol.com
Subject: THE CHANGE

Herman Tyler ambled down the interstate returning from a week-long Police
convention in the neighboring city. It was a typical summer day in the
mid-west. The sky was a deep blue, almost cloudless, except for an atypical
golden haze over Baxter, his destination, his hometown. Tyler was the local
law enforcement, the head of a small police station manned by a staff of
himself, George his deputy, Gwen the secretary/control-center of the
station, and Floyd, a part-time janitor. He'd enjoyed his small vacation
from the responsibilities of his position and a break from the boredom that
filled most of his days. Nothing eventful ever seemed to happen in Baxter,
the days and years plodded by with nothing at all the mark their coming and
going.

Tyler was single, not by choice, but by lack of opportunity; he'd resigned
himself to living out his days in bachelorhood. In his mid-forties, typical
rugged-looking all-American type of guy, he'd grown far too comfortable
with his simple and uncomplicated life. For relaxation and escape, he'd
spend long weekends at a small cabin in the woods, reading, fishing and
sleeping away the better part of the morning -- typical guy stuff.

As he passed the beat-up sign announcing the approaching border of Baxter,
he sighed a resigned long breath, dreading his return.  Everything seemed
in its usual, never-changing order as he drove down Main Street, maybe a
little quieter than usual, if that were possible. Tom's hardware on the
right, the Piggly-Wiggly grocery on the left, Mary's post office, the drug
store, Alice's Diner, all the usual small town necessities packaged into a
neat and orderly community.

He walked through the front door of the Baxter police station and stopped
dead in his tracks. George, his deputy, was lying across a cot in one of
the cells naked, as a young man, also naked, a kid Tyler didn't recognize
sucked away on the deputy's dick.

"What the hell," Tyler shouted as he dropped his bag to the floor. Tyler
had never in his life seen a guy getting a blowjob, and never ever from
another man. He had to physically close his mouth from the shock, his
stomach churned.

Now normally when caught in an act like this, you'd expect the perpetrators
to jump, react, do something, cover up, stop. They didn't. The boy was lost
in his sucking, he never looked back, didn't care, and didn't slow the
rhythm of the manipulation of the throbbing hard cock buried down his
throat. George looked up, grunted something that Tyler couldn't understand
or didn't hear and then threw his head back into the dirty pillow on the
naked cot. The deputy's moans and groans, filled the silence of the moment
as he starred at the shock and disgust on Sheriff Tyler's face. The two
naked bodies writhed in lust and passion in the dark dirty cell.

George, a good-looking man in his mid-twenties, raised his head and with no
shame or guilt or regret, spoke. "Come on Herman," he grunted, "join
us. Fuck my face, give me your hot cock. Fuck my face man. I've wanted that
hot tool of yours, that fuckstick for a long time."

Tyler's head spun with disbelief. He wasn't sure what to do or say. George,
normally a shy guy, would never have had the nerve or balls to say
something of that nature. Tyler knew for a fact that the kid had been a
virgin and most likely to remain that way and now here he was naked with
his cock buried in some strange kid's mouth. And what was worse, he was
offering to suck his boss's cock too. George had never used the word `fuck'
Tyler wasn't even sure he knew the word.

Herman shook his head, composed himself and began barking orders. "Get your
ass up and dressed and explain yourself."

George grunted a last deep sigh as he exploded in the kid's mouth, emptying
a load down his throat. The kid swallowed, sucking in desperation to get
every last drop. The deputy then forcibly pushed the cocksucker off his
dick. Tyler looked at George's shiny wet cock still hard, surprised at the
size. He'd never expected it to be that big. It was the first time he'd
seen George naked, actually he'd never even seen him without his shirt on,
actually it had been years since he'd seen anyone naked. George wasn't in
the least bit embarrassed and didn't even try to cover himself. He walked
out of the cell over to where Herman was standing, stopping right in front
of his boss, much too close for Tyler's comfort who edged a step backwards.

"What the hell's going on here George," Tyler asked still shaking his head
in disbelief.

"Just a little fun," the deputy replied with a smile or a smirk, definitely
a grin across his face. "He was begging for it, literally begging
me. What's the big deal anyway?"

"The Big Deal," Tyler shouted. "Two guys fucking around in public, in a
public office, cock-sucking. It seems like a big deal to me. Since when are
you into guys?"

"If you haven't tried it," George went on. "It's like...  beyond words,
great, terrific, awesome, incredible. Let me show you just how incredible
it can be."

He then reached down and cupped Herman's dick still sweaty and buried in
his jockey's inside his jeans. He gently squeezed, got a good feel before
Tyler shoved his hand away.

"Jesus Christ," he shouted, backing away almost tripping over his
bag. "What the fuck do you think you9re doing."

"I want more," George pleaded. "I know you'd like it, just gotta let me
take care of you. I've noticed that fucking hot package you carry in those
pants. I want it. Think of all the time we spend alone in this office, all
the fun we could have."

He reached again for Tyler's dick as the sheriff backed away with a jerk.

"I'm gonna go get a cup coffee," he spoke in a slow and measured
tone. "When I get back, you'd better have your ass dressed and this fucker
out of here."

Tyler turned and walked through the door into the bright Saturday sunlight
of mid-morning. As he walked down the deserted town street, he wondered
what had happened to the innocent boy who he'd left in charge when he'd
gone off to his convention. Who was this stranger with a hard-on for dick
and men, who now filled his deputy's position, who talked with the tongue
of drunken whore? What had happened in the week he'd been gone? He couldn't
get the image of those two naked male bodies rolling around in that cell
cube. It repulsed him, he felt as if he'd throw-up.

He walked into the town diner and took a seat at the counter. As he sat
lost in thoughts, Alice the owner plopped a cup of coffee down in front of
him.

"Nice to see you back," she
 repeated, "this town's gone crazy."

Tyler didn't respond.

"Hello, earth to Herman," she continued.

Tyler snapped out of his day-dream and nodded at her friendly
face. "Thanks."

"You sure seem distracted," she pushed.

"Guess so," he snapped back, too confused by the events of the day for
small talk.

"Do you want anything to eat," she pressed on.

"Ahhh, no, ... nothing, just the coffee thanks."

The sheriff sat sipping his coffee, bewildered by what had happened at his
office when two of the local farm hands slid up on the stools near him at
the counter.

Herman glanced over at them, nodded and starred back at his half-empty
cup. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something and turned his
head. One of the guys had his hand on the other's crotch, massaging his
dick, right there under the counter. Herman looked up at their faces, they
were watching him, watching them, smiling. He knew these guys, he'd had to
throw them out of town several times when they got far too drunk and
wouldn't leave the women in the bar alone.

As he looked around the room to see if anyone else noticed, he saw that in
several of the booths, two guys sat side by side, most unusual and most ina
ppropriate in small-town social conventions. He also noted that the only
female in the place was Alice, the owner. At one of the tables, a guy sat
alone. Tyler could see under the table that the guy looked like he had his
pants undone and under the napkin in his lap, he seemed to be stroking his
cock -- in public. He starred at Tyler, smiled and lifted the napkin so he
could see his cock.

The confusion, the unorthodox behaviors of these guys, his deputy, made
Tyler's head ache. He got up to go to the restroom. As he pushed open the
old rusty-hinged door, he heard a quick shuffle inside. As he entered he
caught the movement of several guys moving into position at the urinals.
Four guys stood side by side, supposedly pissing. One of them had his pants
down to his knees, his bare ass exposed to the room. Herman shook his head.
"Couldn't be," he thought.

He took the last remaining urinal and pulling his dick out, began to
piss. The guy standing next to him kept trying to get a peek at what
Herman's had in his hand. Herman leaned forward uncomfortable, blocking his
view. He pissed, washed his hands and left the room. The four guys were
still standing there, still not pissing. He left the restroom and the diner
without a word.

As he walked out of the door, there, in the street, were two dogs,
obviously male, taking turns licking each other's totally erect cocks.
He'd never s een anything like that in his life. They looked as if they
were really enjoying it, hungry for cock.

His amazement was interrupted when he saw a guy, totally naked except for
running shoes, jogging down the sidewalk. He gasped, nearly choking. As the
guy ran near Herman, he grabbed him by the arm.

"What do you think you're doing," he asked.

"Just out for a run," the guy answered in a mocking tone, as if he were
unaware of doing anything out of the ordinary.

"You're naked," Tyler replied. "And the last I checked, it's against the
law to be naked in public, and the middle of Main Street is definitely
public."

"So what," the guy jabbed.

"So what," Herman responded. "How about an afternoon in jail, that `so
what'."

He hauled the guy's naked ass off to jail. When they entered the station,
George was dressed and sitting with his feet up on the desk. The kid from
the cell was gone. Herman was relieved not to have to deal any further with
that situation. He locked the naked guy in the cell and hung the key on the
hook behind his desk.

"Where's Gwen," the sheriff quizzed, realizing she wasn't there when he'd
arrived that morning and confused because Gwen practically ran the place,
she was never gone.

"Took a couple days off," George answered, unconcerned, as he watched
intently the naked guy in the cell.

Herman left the room for a couple minutes and when he returned, George was
on his knees in front of the cell, the naked guy's cock pressing against
his lips.

"George," Herman screamed.

George didn't respond and didn't stop sucking away on the now totally hard
tool. The guy moaned loud as he fucked his hips back and forth slamming
against the bars between him and the deputy's mouth.

Herman yelled again, but George ignored him and continued to service the
drooling cock. Herman moved across the room and jerked George back and off
the cock, throwing him to the floor. George crawled back up on his knees
and lunged back toward the fleshy tool, wet and demanding continued
service. Herman pulled him back again, grabbed his shoulders and slapped
him across the face.

"Get hold of yourself," he screamed right into the deputy's face. "Get out
of here, go home and get yourself under control. We'll deal with this
later, talk it out. Now go!"

George left, head hanging, never taking his eyes off the cock still
sticking through the bars. Herman could see a desperate lust for the cock
in George's dazed eyes.

As the door closed behind the depu ty, Herman turned and starred at the guy
in the cell, his cock still sticking through the bars.

"Please," the guy begged, "please, suck it. I can't stand it, please suck
it. I beg you." He held his cock tight, stroking it slowly, the shiny
purple head throbbing in the dim light of the room.

Herman just starred at the guy's glassy eyes filled with lust gone wild,
lust out of control. He walked out into the street. There, standing in the
middle of Main Street in front of the police office, Herman looked up at
the sky. A golden tint seemed to float like a piss-colored fog surrounding
the whole town. He hadn't noticed how pronounced it was, how unusual. He'd
seen it driving back to town, hadn't thought twice about it, but it was
unusually strange. He'd seen similar colors before an intense storm but
never on such a cloudless and beautiful day. Baxter was a clean,
pollution-free town away from all the manufacturing and big-city exhausts
that often fill the air with pollutants and crap. As he stood there
studying the sky, he realized his own penis was hard, erect. Why? It
pressed against the inside of his pants and as he looked down, he could
clearly see it pushing out the front of his jeans. Why?

He walked to Gwen's house on the edge of town, walked through the white
picket fence and knocked at the door. "Who's there," the small elderly
voice asked from inside.

"It's me Gwen, it's Herman," the sheriff replied.

The door slowly opened, and Gwen peeked through the crack.  With a half
smile, she opened the door to let him in.

"I'm sure glad you're back," she started. "This town has gone plum
loco. Guys on guys all over the place, wives leaving their husbands, damn
fool craziness. That's all I can say."

"Back up," Tyler interrupted. "Tell me how it started. When it started."

"It was last Tuesday morning," she began, pouring him a cup of tea. "The
sun was no where to be seen that morning, this damn heavy yellow fog was
just here, blocking the entire sky. Strangest thing I've ever seen.
Couldn't see your hand in front of your face. It smelled funny. Can't
explain how, but just funny. No one could go anywhere. I managed to make to
the office; George did too. There were a couple fender-benders bumps here
and there but nothing too serious. It let up but didn't completely go away,
it's still there."

"Then the craziness started. George was in the toilet and wouldn't come
out. I heard him, he was... you know... to his thing. He was in there for
over an hour. Wasn't sure what to do or say. I mean, he's never done
anything like that. And he wouldn't stop, did it a few times that day."

"The Johnson boy called from their farm. Jasper their farmhand, he'd... You
know, I guess had sex with the boy, against his will.  Before I could get
George out there, the boy called back and said forget it, it was okay, it
didn't happen. I sent George out anyway and he didn't come back for
hours. When he did, he said it was a mistake. Didn't explain further."

"Then old lady Hendrick called, she'd been walking by Tom's hardware and
said that there were four guys in there all naked and playing with each
other. I called George and had him go over, he didn't come back for over an
hour and when he did, he again said there was nothing wrong."

"The calls kept coming in, one after another, wives complaining, public
nakedness, odd behaviors, all these damn men. Crazy."

The sheriff sipped his tea, listening, knowing Gwen wasn't the type to ever
exaggerate anything. He knew the information she was sharing was dead-on
honest and accurate.

"Why didn't you call me," he asked.

"Knew you'd be back soon and figured it would work itself out," she
answered. "It's this damn fog I think, has to be. It happened so
quickly. George kept disappearing into the toilet. I know what he was
doing, could see his thing big in his pants over and over. Whatever this
fog thing was has affected the men-folk in this town. I decided to stay
here, safe in my house till you returned."

"You gotta fix it sheriff," she demanded.

"I'll try," he stuttered. "Not sure where to start. You stay here; I'll be
in touch. I'm gonna check around."

He noticed that during their conversation, she kept looking at his crotch,
checking to be sure. Fortunately, his penis had remained quiet during their
visit.

As he strolled down the sidewalk, he nearly ran into an older woman almost
running out of the grocery store.

"Excuse me," he started, though she didn't even stop to reply, only
scurried down the street and out of sight. She'd been red-faced,
embarrassed, obviously upset. Herman stepped inside the store. As he walked
through the door, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, a couple guys in the
back shopping, Jim standing behind the counter in his clean white shop
apron as usual. He waved as Herman walked through the door.

It was then that the sheriff noticed that the starched white apron bulged
out in front and seemed to be moving. As Herman stepped closer, he noticed
that there was someone under the apron, Jim's pants were down around his
ankles and Joey, his nineteen year old clerk was completely naked and on
his knees and under the apron, taking care of Jim like the guy in the cell
with George, like the guys in the restroom at Alice's, like the streaker,
like everyone it seemed today in town.

Herman felt his cock getting harder again in the pants. He couldn't control
it. He stepped up in front of Jim on the other side of the counter.

"Why," he asked. "Why are you doing this here in your store?"

"Doing what," Jim responded with a confused look on his face.

"Getting a blowjob from Joey with customers in the store, just doing this
in public, why?"

"Had to," Jim stuttered as he moaned with the clerk's work.  "Not sure why,
just had to. Joey's really good at it and getting better all the time, step
back here and let him show you for himself. Looks like you're ready for
this new service the store's offering."

Jim pulled Joey from under his apron and up to his feet. He pulled the boy
beside him giving Herman the full view of the naked clerk. He pulled him
close and kept rubbing the teen's ass as the sheriff studied his naked
body, his totally hard cock. Jim was married, had three teens of his own,
had never done anything of this sort in his life, president of the P.T.A.,
pillar of the community. And now he had his fingers stuck in the ass of hi
s shop clerk in front of God and the world, and he didn't care.

Herman instinctively bent a little at the waist to try and hide the obvious
problem in his pants. He watched the young boy licking his lips and
desperately trying to get back at Jim's throbbing manhood. The two male
shoppers stepped up behind Herman. When he looked their way, he noticed
that both their cocks were hanging out of their pants and mostly
erect. They then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "He finished us
off already, he is great. Wait till he wraps his hot lips around that cock
of yours. You'll love it too. If he doesn't do a good job, we'll take care
of you ourselves."

One of the shoppers grabbed Herman's ass and gave it a squeeze with one
hand and gave the cock of the guy standing next to him a squeeze too.

Herman felt the hand massaging his ass. The blood rushed to his head and
before he could think, he fisted the guy. Herman was a peaceful man and
even as Sheriff, had never lost his temper or had to resort to using his
fists. The guy landed flat on his backside as a small trickle of blood
streamed down his chin. He held his jaw and continued to smile.

"What's wrong with you guys," Herman yelled. "Keep your hands off me."

The guy only smiled. Herman shoved past the other shopper and out the front
door,
 he ran down the street, past the jail, toward his house on the edge of
town.

As he walked past the local high school, he realized the football field was
vacant. The local football team was on the field every Saturday at this
time of day practicing. He knew something was wrong and despite the
desperation of his mood, the bizarre events of the day, he decided to check
it out. He walked up to the locker room windows and peered inside. His
suspicions proved accurate when he saw the whole team in the locker room
naked.  Several of the players including the quarterback, the most macho
guy in school, were dressed in cheerleader outfits with the tight sweaters
and short skirts, they were dancing along the benches for the other boy's
entertainment. He noticed that none of them had panties on, just bare asses
and cocks that flashed into view when they bent and danced around. The guys
hooted and hollered to their routine. Every young cock in the room was hard
and pointing toward the sky. They slapped each other on the asses, grabbed
each others cocks, lost in a frenzy of flesh.

The naked audience grabbed at the dancing boys and ripped at their clothes,
yanking and jerking and tearing until the cheerleader costumes were in
shreds on the floor. One by one, their cocks were devoured by the hungry
mouths in the crowd. Guys were bent over the benches and fucked over and
over, every ass, every mouth was filled time and time again and load after
load of
 hot young cum exploded and shot.

Herman's cock throbbed and hurt it was so hard in his pants.  The scene
sickened him, but his body, his cock, seemed to be responding with a mind
of it's own. It wanted to be part of the action. He panted as he watched in
a far too interested manor. And then, he saw the team coach come walking
in.  He knew for a fact that the coach was as straight as they come,
probably the biggest homo-phobe, he'd ever known. The coach had once kicked
a kid off the team for wearing colored underwear. He watched and waited for
the explosion, wondering what he'd do, what he'd say, if he'd ever let any
of the guys stay on the team.

Then the guys noticed the coach standing there with his hands on his hips,
stern look on his face, two of the boys walked over and as if expected,
began stripping the coach.

Once naked, he jumped into the action and quickly had his ass, his mouth,
and his cock serviced time and time again. The mound of flesh, rolled and
pounded into each other, like a wave of erotic eruption, out of control.

Herman fell to the ground on his knees, his hands buried in his face.

"How can this be happening," he moaned. "What's wrong with this town?"

He went home, he poured himself a tall glass of scotch and locked himself
away from the town, the insanity, the20crazy sexual frenzy that seemed to
have overtaken every male in Baxter. He drank until he was barely conscious
and then after pulling off his shirt and pants, he fell into his bed.
Maybe it was all a dream, maybe in the morning things would be normal.

Waves of flesh and multitudes of cocks seemed to flow through Herman's
dreams. Like trees in a forest sprouting from bushes of hair, he dreamed
vivid and erotic dreams of towers of manhood, sex beyond understanding,
beyond reason, beyond limit. Scenes of mouths swallowing longer and longer
cocks, meat pounding in and out of asses and mouths, between legs.  Tyler
moaned at the visions that raced through his thoughts. His own cock ached
as the vivid visions grew more and more real in his mind. He saw the locker
room scene over and over, not as the observer but as the focus of all those
young mouths and cocks fucking him, sucking his cock, rubbing their hard
young bodies over him, in him, on him, through him. He felt all those hot
young hands searching, exploring his own body. He tried to push the
thoughts away, he didn't want it, but he did want it, he tried to fight it,
but he begged for it.  His mind fought the images, but embraced them.

He felt his demanding cock being stroked, it felt wet, he tried to push the
dream away, but it won his lust, his want. He felt his cock sinking into
flesh, a hot warm mouth; he tried to fight it, but he welcomed it.  He
pushed his hips si nking deeper into the dream, into the hot warm mouth,
the tongue, the throat, the sucking as it tightened all around his dick. He
moaned out loud with the warm and intense pleasure of the mouth that forced
itself deeper and deeper around his demanding cock. His prick controlled
him now, it needed the warmth, the tender, and wild embrace, the rapid and
faster movement, as it slammed down and up on his naked cock. Somewhere in
his mind, he wanted to force it away but he couldn't, he needed it more
than he needed to stop it.

The vivid colors of flesh and passion swirled through his mind, drove him
wilder and wilder, deeper into the depths of lust than he'd ever
explored. He saw all those males naked and writhing in their lust, his
lust. He tried to stop, tried to find the usual women of his passionate
dreams, but they no longer existed, only males, only cock.

His own loud and passionate cries of lust raised him up farther, out of the
dark and flesh filled dreams of his sleep. He felt the demanding mouth
around his cock, his cock buried in the hot throat of the faceless
cocksucker consuming him. As his eyes cracked open, he looked into the dark
and lusty night of his bed, his thoughts cleared, the dreams faded; and
then, he saw the head bobbing up and down on his now naked body, he saw
George.  It wasn't a dream, George was there naked in his bed, and he was
naked, stripped in his sleep and George was wrapped arou nd his cock, and
he loved it.  He hated it, but he loved it, he needed to stop it, but he
couldn't stop it, he needed it, he had to have it at any price. He
continued to moan and thrust his hips in and out of the receptical of his
pleasure. He felt George's hard cock pressed against his legs as he
surrendered to the passion, as he lost himself in his lust.

"George," he moaned through a thick and strained passionate voice. "Stop,"
he begged, though he would have begged for him not to stop, if he had.

George kept working Herman's cock, faster and faster. He would not, he
could not be put off at this point, he would have finished no matter what.

And then, Herman erupted in a climax more intense, more earth-shaking than
ever in his life. Wave after wave of liquid love flowed down George's
throat. The boy gagged yet swallowed every drop, sucked to get more.  Spasm
after spasm shook Herman's body, his legs trembled, his clenched toes hurt
from the tightened muscles, his thighs cramped as he literally exploded in
a crescendo of unyielding pleasure and delight.

The orgasm continued for minutes, yet seemed like hours. At one point,
Herman thought he'd pass out from the intensity. He slammed his hips
against George's face over and over before collapsing down into the
mattress of his sweat-soaked bed. He felt George's seed spray all over his
l egs as he too reached his end.

In the quiet of the dark room, of Herman's home, they lay panting, unable
to speak. A wave of euphoria spread from one end of Herman's body to the
other. George held tight to Herman's cock in his mouth. It began to shrink,
it's mission met, yet he refused to let go. His tongue gently massaged the
underside of his sweet and forbidden fruit. He rolled the cock back and
forth, licking it, sucking to keep a gentle pressure around it. Herman
continued to moan, a gentle and peaceful purr of delight, of warmth, of
fulfillment.

Before sleep overtook him, Herman pulled his soft and love-soaked cock
through George's warm and tender lips. He pulled him up on the bed beside
him in the blinding darkness of the night. Their warm and wet bodies of
tingling flesh pressed tight to one another. Their spent cocks nestled
tight, side by side, between them.

"How did you, I mean why, I mean... nice..." was all Herman could utter.

Sleep swept him away into the darker parts of the night.

The next morning, Sunday morning, Herman slowly woke from the drunken
depths of sleep. He opened his eyes; he knew what had happened. He looked
around. George was gone, his bed torn apart and strewn about he floor.  He
lifted to sheet to check, yes, he was naked. His mind flowed through the
memories of the night, confused, delighted, repulsed. H e remembered that
he'd given George a key to take care of his house while he was gone. He
wondered if it was the fog that had made him submit to last night. Was it
the fog or his quiet and hidden nature that had made it happen?

As he walked out his front door, showered and ready for the day, he noted
the sky, blue clear, totally clear, no yellow haze. It was gone, he not
only could see it, he could feel that it was gone. Whatever it was that had
so completely changed the men of Baxter no longer existed. The men at
Alice's diner returned to their normal behavior of gawking down the
waitress's clevage, the occasional innocent slaps on their asses and the
boasting of the exploits with women. Nothing ever happened again, out of
the ordinary, in the men's room. The streaker was let out of jail, confused
and pissed, no memory of why he was naked and denying he'd ever run down
the street that way. Jim and Joey never mentioned what had happened during
that week. Jim's still happily married and enjoying the normal sex he
usually had with his wife. The boy's football team returned to their
`normal' selves too, chasing girls, trying to get laid.  The `straightness'
that was once Baxter returned in full-force. Those dark urges for male on
male sex left as quickly as they came. All was back in order, all was back
in the closet -- mostly.

That next weekend, Herman sat on the po rch of his cabin in the woods. He
sat in his boxers watching the sun go down through the tall pines. The
cricket serenade announced the coming night as his mind wondered thinking
about the week gone by, the craziness. He took a sip from his bottle of
beer and drank in the peace.

The squeaky screen door opened and out walked George, naked.  He crawled
into Herman's welcoming arms. They wrapped their arms and lips into each
other, melted into the beautiful setting sun. They shared a welcome embrace
of love and contentment that would keep them for all their days and years
ahead.

End.