Date: Thu, 3 Oct 2002 20:10:27 +1200 From: Arthur <rochopa@xtra.co.nz> Subject: the sneak thief adult/ youth THE SNEAK THIEF By Arthur DISCLAIMER: If you do not like or understand the gay life style then I suggest that the following people leave this site to the more informed of the human race, Racists,poloticians,bible bashers, do gooders and lastly those of you that are underage what ever that may be for your location. The coprwrite belongs solely to the author and is not available for reprint on any pay site, however if it is for your own personal use then you are welcome to add it to your files if you so wish. If you are not deterred by the above then I would like to hear your opinions of the following story, I may be charmed by your astuteness or criticized which ever rings your bell at: rochopa@xtra.co.nz I stood there looking down at the old man laying on the bed, there was a familiarity about him that I could not put my finger on, around me were all the friends that he had known, here to pay homage to his life and the memories that he induced. The bedroom had an etherial feel to it and the others around the bed appeared to be standing in a soft mist as they talked about the old mans accomplishments and how he had assisted this one, or that one, how he had always been there for another one. The hushed whispering of their words bringing a solemnity to the room, I looked around trying to part the mist and so be able to see them more clearly, ah yes there was little Terry, he still did not look a day older than his fifteen years when I had first met him. Terry was a truly beautiful boy, he was into the latter stages of puberty the first time that I took him into my arms that night long ago and as he pressed his taught little body close to mine I felt along his slim back to those two globes of delight, promissing so much in the hours to come. Terry was small for his age, tousled brown hair rumpled on top of his narrow pixie like head, small ears just right for the face, sharp piercing green eyes that missed nothing and turned to investigate everthing and a mouth straight from the Mona LIsa herself. There was a vibrancy about Terry that suggested total indulgence in any activity he decided to participate in, and on that first night together he had proved his capacity for indulgence no less than six times with deep penetrating kisses that wrung the life force from my lungs. A steel like quality to his adolecent muscles that hugged and sqirmed in his many extacy's as he time and again propelled his hot and life giving seed into and onto my willing body. I looked over to him and smiled and was gratified to see it returned with a look of smoldering and sublime passion. I looked down again at the old man on the bed, he was so familiar but I could still not place where I had seen him before, the slightly curly and somewhat ruffled silver hair, not white, not grey but a glowing silver as though at any moment it would become a halo and he would be diefied for all enternity. His eyes were wide open and staring, the dark penetrating blue now slightly clouded, I assume by age as he was certainly in his 70's, his skin now pale from a long period incacerated in his bed and the beginnings of his unshaven beard showing through on the strong chin. Another soft spoken word and I turned to see young Brian standing beside Terry as he told of times spent with this now aging man, of travels to far off places, the birthdays and the little unasked for surprises that the man presented to him in the five years they had been together. Yes I remember you Brian, I can still see you know as you were then, eighteen years old, out going personality, ready to please any who would want your company, the soft chuckle that tinkled like broken glass on a terrazo floor, the dark tight curls of your hair and the burnished copper skin that told of your mixed heritage, the voice of angels as you sang your songs of joy challenging the gods to join you on this mortal plane. Again and again I looked at the faces around me, so many beautiful boys and young men from my past, they had all gathered here, which, in itself was an unusal happening, why here and now should they all come together when for many years they had all been apart from the life now before them. Was it really to pay the ultimate homage to this frail old man or to now comfort him after his many years of loneliness and the final depression of his dying soul as he waited for the thief of the night to take him on his final journey. And there stood Micheal, the gladiator, oh how many times had he come to me for solace and to repair his many injuries after his nights of passionless lust on the dark streets he called home, 5' 6" of swarthy good looks, dark eyes over shadowed by black straight eyebrows hiding his inner most desires until the right spark was lit, then the raging bull within overpowered you with lust and a need deep seated in his being. The silence of the room broken only by the soft whispers now of all the acolytes gathered to see the last vagaries of life and now the familiarity of the old man was becoming clearer as I remember those eyes looking into my soul, drawing me forward to my ultimate desires, the smile that raised the corner of his mouth, the lifted eyebrow asking my needs, yes I knew him well but still his name eluded me. Hands touching me, reaching for me, caressing me and then the one true love is there beside me, holding me close as he spoke soft words into my ear, calming my fears and desiring to lead me away from this room of torture and broken memories. Kelly, my beautiful Kelly, you of the saphire eyes, the body copied by michaelangelo for the statue of David, even now I feel your gentle hands caressing my body as your lips close over mine to feed each other with passion and love. Yes even now you are still as beautiful as when you were sixteen, my desire for you is today as strong as it was then, my dearest love, even after ten years together you are still the only one that owns my heart, just to feel your hot breath upon my chest once more and I will pass into the night complete. The mist and sounds remained around me, shrouding the old man in a mystery of silence and like clouds drifting in an azure sky, the unearthly feel of familiarity still strong as I look again at the aged figure serene in his final rest. Why are they all here, how can they be here, Terry whom left us at seventeen broken on the side of the road, his motor bike a tangled wreck beside him, Brian, sleeping in the dark arms of the sea, wed to his mistress on a summers day, Micheal, passing with the pain of the scourge of a modern day plague, and my lovely Kelly, reaching out his hands to be taken by the angels on that night of heat and fire as the smoke curled about his slender frame. Yes I know you old man, for you are I and here are my angels to take me and keep me safe from the sneak thief of the night and to give me final rest, encompassed in the arms of those whom I loved and was loved by, no more to be alone in the silence of obscurity and age but to enjoy once more their many comforts in eternity.