Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1998 13:48:29 -0700
From: Gordon Sclater <remembrances@canada.com>
Subject: Autumn Dunes

Autumn Dunes

                            Wily(.)CEE

                             (c) 1996

    Driving along a narrow strip of pavement  barely  one  and  a 
    half  lanes wide,  wind blown strips of sand eddies cross the 
    road in front of us wherever there is a break in the wall  of 
    dunes  that  run  alongside  the  road.  My hand rests on the 
    stick shift,  yours resting on mine,  a blanket  draped  over 
    your legs to ward off the autumn chill that clings inside the 
    car.  You never cease to amaze me,  my maGNali, so intuitive, 
    so secure,  beyond your fifteen years,  my primal nature kept 
    subdued lest that fragile thread of common bond be broken.  

    From the tapedeck,  Petshop Boys' "Behavior" fills the inside 
    of  the  car  with  mellow  words and a soothing rhythm.  The 
    dunes have built up to form a trench  along  which  the  road 
    follows,  the  dunes held to ground with clumps of dune grass 
    and scrub brush and trees bent  in  tortured  shapes  by  the 
    prevailing  winds  off the Atlantic.  There has been no other 
    traffic on the twisting road  in  a  half  hour,  the  sky  a 
    blueblue  crystal dome overhead.
    
    A  break  appears in the dune on the right where a track cuts 
    across the road,  heading off into the dunes at right  angles 
    on  both  sides.  I  know  the  ocean  is  off  to  the right 
    somewhere but where does this track lead?  It's only an  hour 
    before  the noon hour,  the sun almost as high as it will get 
    for late in October so I slow to a stop and back up to have a 
    looksee along the track.  
    
    The track is hard packed sand from much use during  the  peak 
    tourist  months,  but  a  wind blows through the cut drifting 
    sand across the pavement as I ease the rental car right  onto 
    the  track.  There  isn't much to see as the track twists and 
    turns ahead of us through sand swells,  the brush crowding to 
    the  edge of the trail.  We drive ahead for only five minutes 
    and a clearing appears on the left,  what must  have  been  a 
    parking area earlier in the year, deserted now of course, and 
    I pull the car in to stop off the trail but in the open.  The 
    clearing  is  surrounded by dunes as well with several breaks 
    about the clearing leading off to who knows  where.  Stepping 
    out  of the car,  we are greeted with an intensity of hot air 
    trapped between the dunes,  the heat radiating  up  from  the 
    hard packed cream coloured sand.  

    I don't need to ask if you want to  take  a  walk  among  the 
    dunes  as you take my hand,  maGNali,  and lead off towards a 
    break in the wall of brush and sand.  But  I  pull  back  and 
    make  to  climb  the dune.  Digging into the loose sand,  two 
    steps ahead, one back,  it's only maybe fifteen feet high and 
    we  find  ourselves  looking  out  on a wilderness expanse of 
    rolling dunes and scrub brush  that  end  some  five  hundred 
    yards  at  what  must  be  the  Atlantic  Shore,   the  Ocean 
    stretching to the horizon.  The only living creatures seem to 
    be a few small birds flitting among the bushes and ourselves.  

    Slipping and sliding down the slope to the parking area I get 
    the  blanket  from  the front seat of the car.  The wind over 
    the  dune  as we stood at it's crest was definitely cool so I 
    drape the blanket around your neck and we head off once  more 
    through  the  gap  you had chosen to explore.  The path winds 
    it's way through dunes and brush while the wind rattling  the 
    dry branches overhead is all that stirs a sense of isolation.  
    Following twist and turn it would be easy to get lost but our 
    footprints  in the sand make a trail like the fairytale trail 
    of crumbs left behind by Hansel and Gretel.  

    Not surprising we come to another bowl-like clearing  in  the 
    dunes.  It's large,  one hundred feet across with a large gap 
    in  the  dune  that  looks  out  over  the ocean.  The gap is 
    whiskered with brown/green dune grass lying flat and raked by 
    the prevailing winds through the gap.  Today the air is still 
    with the winds coming from the south-east and  heat  radiates 
    up  into our face while the sound of the autumn Atlantic wind 
    blowing  overhead   the   dichotomy   of   the   season   and 
    circumstance.  
    
    You walk to where sand cascades down the slope of a  dune  to 
    form  an  incline  and  throw  out the blanket to make a cosy 
    place for two dear friends to settle beside a thorn bush  and 
    enjoy  the  serenity of the situation.  We simply stretch out 
    on the blanket to enjoy the heat  radiating  up  through  the 
    woven wool, maGNali, to heat our bodies as we cuddle up close 
    in  the centre of the blanket.  Your shortness of stature and 
    leanness of body diminishes  your  physical  presence  by  so 
    verrrrrrry little,  maGNali.  I am drawn inexorably to you no 
    matter how much I struggle with  my  desires  while  emotions 
    direct  me  to  drape  an arm over your shoulder and hugg you 
    close.  

    The sun has neared it's zenith,  adding to the  intensity  of 
    the  heat absorbed within the sand and the surrounding dunes.  
    The heat is not oppressive, but it certainly invites removing 
    clothes so I think nothing of pulling  my  pullover  over  my 
    head  and roll it up into a ball to pillow your head.  As you 
    raise your head for my offered pillow I lean over you to kiss 
    you,  to stroke my lips across yours,  to plant a kiss on the 
    end  of  your  nose and smile into your eyes,  not a grinning 
    open mouthed smile,  but a subtle upturn at the corners of my 
    mouth,  crows  feet  accentuated  at  the corners of my eyes.  
    Your fingertip upon my cheek is light,  maGnali,  tender,  an 
    expression of your winsome nature but when directed at me, it 
    expresses the caring you feel for me.  Laying back down, your 
    hand  follows  my  face to rest against my throat,  your silk 
    shirt sleeve cool on my naked chest.  

    With the sun's  energy  bathing  my  bare  chest,  with  it's 
    intensity and the solitude of the hollow among the dunes,  my 
    desire  to  expose  my  all to the sun's rays is natural as I 
    snap the button at my waist, the dark hair over my belly ends 
    at the top of my fly.  The harsh sound of my fly unzipping is 
    loud against the ever present rustle of the wind blowing thru 
    gnarled bushes and a whisper as it ripples the  dune  grasses 
    that  cling  tenaciously to the ridge of shifting sands.  You 
    peek from slightly parted eyelids to see my pants slide  over 
    my hips and come off to be folded into a pillow for myself.  

    My  sigh  is  hushed in the solitude as I stretch out totally 
    naked to the sun, it's intensity a welcome feel, my body limp 
    with  unashamedness.  The  fact  you  lie  there  clothed  in 
    impeccable fashion with no  more  concern  than  the  sparrow 
    flitting in a nearby bush,  maGNali, only augments the placid 
    scene.  Do  I  radiate  this sense for you,  maGNali?  As you 
    scan my naked body through half closed eyelids, stretched out 
    beside you?  I know you are not ashamed to be  naked.  You've 
    enjoyed  the  pleasure  at  Sunshine  Shores...  perhaps  the 
    presence of others more the drawing factor?....  the sense of 
    risk what makes it exciting?  

    But this is different,  isn't it, maGNali.  It's just you and 
    me in isolation so you rise to  follow  suit,  removing  your 
    clothes  casually  to  snuggle up close,  to press your naked 
    flesh against my sun-warmed body,  draping  your  leg  across 
    mine, your arm across my bare chest, and I slip my arm around 
    your  neck,  to  cradle  your  head in the crook at my elbow.  
    Neither of us is aroused by our nakedness but  more  in  tune 
    with  nature,  the  sigh  of  the  wind,  the  chitter of the 
    sparrow,  the smell of  the  ocean  in  the  hot  salty  air, 
    maGNalli,  a  lone  seagull  surfing  the  air  currents high 
    overhead occasionally screeching it's presence,  the radiance 
    of  the  sun at it's zenith.  Were someone to pass by at that 
    moment,  they would see two guys at one with nature and  each 
    other.  The  heat induces a drowsiness that envelops us,  the 
    sound of your breathing settles into a rhythm in  synch  with 
    my  own rising and falling chest and time drifts with the odd 
    white  puff  of  cloud  sliding  across  the  blueblue   dome 
    overhead.  

    It's a couple hours later I wake to the awareness of  chilled 
    feet as a shadow creeps across the clearing to edge over  the 
    foot  of  the  blanket.  The heat of the sun hasn't slackened 
    off only enflamed my awareness of  my  instinctive  interests 
    and  it's  arousal by your nakedness pressed to my body.  But 
    is that natural?  By my thinking, my arousal is as natural as 
    the hunger of the  sparrow  still  scratching  about  in  dry 
    leaves  beneath  the bushes.  My cock swells to press against 
    your thigh between my  legs.  You  stir.  Your  fingers  play 
    over  the  rim of my ear.  There is no intensity in either of 
    us beyond the desire for physical  closeness,  that  intimacy 
    one feels for another.  

    Your  hip  is  hot under my hand as I stroke your naked skin, 
    the velvety softness unique to the human animal.  The feel of 
    my cock against your thigh triggers that part of  your  brain 
    controlling your circulation,  re-directing blood to build in 
    pressure within your penis,  maGNali,  to swell it, to retain 
    that blood,  to increase  your  nerve  ends'  sensitivity  to 
    touch,  to  cause your foreskin to pull back exposing more of 
    your glans further increasing the sensitivity of firing nerve 
    ends.  
      
    It's not an intellectual awareness,  maGNali,  but a physical 
    response  that triggers my own erection to continue expanding 
    to a hardness pressed tight against your thigh inspiring  you 
    to  rub  your  thigh against it for the feelings it raises in 
    you as well as those you know  it  raises  in  me,  your  own 
    erection  pressed to my leg.  But the heat of the sun induces 
    a somnolence in you to just roll over and cover my body  with 
    yours,  our manmembers pressed together, the sun beating down 
    on your bare back,  your head resting on  my  shoulder,  your 
    nose  against  my  ear,  your  tongue stroking the nape of my 
    neck,  your hands pressed to my naked hips,  physical contact 
    your  only  desire.  I am content to just have your weight on 
    mine,  maGNali,  to stroke your sun warmed back,  to slide my 
    hands  down  to  feel  your sun warmed velvet buns beneath my 
    hands,  to grip you tightly to me,  to feel your legs between 
    mine stretched out their length, emotional connection that is 
    as real as the physical body contact between us.  

    The shadow creeps up our bodies,  the sharp contrast  between 
    chill and sun powered body heat, becoming more and more acute 
    for  me and a shiver that passes through your body in my arms 
    signals  the same awareness in you,  maGNali.  We either move 
    or continue to be enveloped in the chillness  of  shade.  The 
    decision is easily made as you slip to my side and rise up to 
    sitting,  pulling your legs up and out of the shade.  I don't 
    waste any time doing likewise,  draping my  arm  around  your 
    shoulder  to  retain  the  closeness  we feel for each other, 
    nature heightening that closeness  by  the  intimacy  of  the 
    surrounding dunes and scrub.  
    
    I nuzzle my lips against your bare arm,  slide my tongue over 
    your  shoulder  to kiss the rim of your ear and play my other 
    hand down your hairless chest to cover your  softening  cock, 
    maGnali,  to  feel  the  heat  of  rising sexual arousal once 
    again.  The stirring blood within my body is directed towards 
    my groin stirring my own penis to retain it's  swollen  state 
    of tumescence and you instinctively bring your free hand down 
    to  grip  it  tightly  and release it repeatedly enjoying the 
    feel of it's hardness within your grasp,  to feel the  subtle 
    texture  of  my  skin  hot within your hand.  I am content to 
    stroke your lovely skin,  maGNali,  to breath  in  your  male 
    odour  deeply,  to  fire up your aura of feelings for me that 
    radiate from you  like  burning  magnesium  bathing  me  with 
    emotional  heat  and  light  just  as  physical  as that fire 
    pouring down from the sun.  
    
    The  desire  is  there  to delve into the pleasures of sexual 
    excitement, but the time has slipped away beyond the point of 
    leisurely climbing to that height of orgasmic satisfaction we 
    both crave  here  and  now,  maGNali.  Rising,  we  pull  the 
    blanket  higher  up the sandy slope,  each of us at a blanket 
    corner.  Stepping back into the centre of our  covered  patch 
    of sand, I slip my arms around your waist and pull you close.  
    The burning radiance pouring from your deep gray eyes,  fills 
    me  with  desire  to  love  you  right  there on the blanket, 
    maGNali,  only I slide my hands down over your bare  butt  to 
    make  our physical connection tight and binding.  Moving your 
    mouth to mine,  you  probe  for  my  tastebuds,  shared  lips 
    tingling with firing nerve ends.  

    Your weight in my arms increases as you try to settle to your 
    knees,  your  purpose is  obvious  under  the  circumstances,
    but I settle to my knees in time with you as we  ease back to
    cuddle  in the  middle of the blanket,  limbs entwined, I can
    only guess what  goes through  your mind as  I  think of blue
    summer skies  and smells of barbequing steaks on a grill, the
    music of a flight of  Canada  Geese  heading  south  for  the
    winter those months ago.  In time you rove your hands over my
    body to come back to leaning over me, my body in your shadow,
    and lower your face to mine and return that kiss I planted on
    the end of your nose with one of your own on the end of mine.  
    
    As much as I want this time to continue forever, maGNali, the 
    sun dictates our time here is near over as the shadow marches 
    forward.  A shiver passes through my body and you reluctantly 
    but  sympathetically  roll  back  to sitting at my side.  You 
    proceed to dress and I follow suit in quick order prodded  by 
    another  shiver.  The  day  is  not  over,  just  a  spell of 
    enchanted oneness shared with nature for a few hours.  With a 
    toss of the blanket, our time spent with nature is over,  and 
    you drape the blanket over your shoulder,  maGNali, taking my 
    hand in yours as we follow the trail of crumbs we left in the 
    sand.  We free the dunes of our presence  returning  them  to 
    what  they  were before our arrival,  our presence soon to be 
    erased by the wind sweeping over the sand.  
    
    In short order we are back to the clearing where the  car  is 
    not  alone,  but  a  second  car stands parked alongside.  We 
    can't but chuckle to each other,  maGnali,  thinking thoughts 
    of  who and where and what could be going on out there in the 
    dunes.  Had the other or others passed by  our  private  time 
    with  nature?  But  neither  of us is concerned with what has 
    been  but  with  what  will  be  when  we  get  back  to  the 
    Guesthouse.  We  climb  into the car and drive off to connect 
    with that strip of pavement that will take us to that  height 
    of  animal  pleasure  often  experienced since we'd made that 
    first commitment but scant sixteen  months  ago.  You  return 
    your  hand  to  resting over mine,  the connection between us 
    intact.