Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2009 00:30:18 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Secret: Chapter five

Five
-The Sacrament-



	The Friday, K. L. Express pulled into the Johor Bahru station in
the late afternoon. As he stepped down from the coach, Phil saw Shiwa
walking toward him. They shook hands warmly, greeting each other as if it
had been months rather than days since their last meeting. Shiwa took
Phil's bag and they walked to his car.
	A bit later, they took dinner, sitting at a table overlooking the
straits that separated the mainland from Singapore. It was warm, but not
oppressively so. The trade winds provided their own comfort. They looked at
the twinkling lights reflected in the gently undulating water as they
sampled the varied and spicy array of food that was placed before them. The
cool beer was an appropriate counterpoint to the spices. They talked of
many things. Each revealed their self to the other. Talking of their likes,
dislikes, family and the usual things, in an attempt to better know each
other. It was a leisurely, happy time. After dinner they walked and talked
more before returning to the car and Shiwa's apartment.

	Later, Phil gazed at the dusky, nude form of Shiwa, standing at the
side of the bed on which he, likewise, nude, lay. Again, he noted his
muscular arms, now akimbo. His eyes took in his wide shoulders with small
purple aureoles, a dusting of flat-laying chest hair and down to his flat
stomach. At the base of the stomach springs a dark thatch of hair. He
visually caressed the muscular, hair-covered thighs "V'd" open in a wide
stance. Then back to the heavy ball-sack suspended between the opened long
muscled thighs. From the mass of hair and over the balls softly arched the
hooded, bluish-purple cock, hanging down, sausage-like. He smiled. And, as
he did so he noted with erotic anticipation the lengthening, arching
movement of that marvelous cock-muscle.
	Phil moved to the center of the bed as Shiwa lowered his body and
they turned into each other in a warm embrace. Lips on lips, tongues
intertwined, hands searching, legs scissoring they pressed together. Phil
reveled in the feeling of Shiwa's warm body against his. He strained to
make maximum contact. They broke the kiss, smiling.
	"All week long, my mind was so preoccupied thinking about your
coming here. I even half-expected a letter telling me that, for some
reason, you couldn't come."
	"No way, I wouldn't miss this. I'd even have gone A.W.O.L." he
lied. Laughing as both knew that would never have been a condition. But,
Shiwa appreciated the sentiment. They lightly kissed.
	"Phil, I really need to tell you how special last weekend was for
me."
	"It was special for me too, very special," Phil replied quietly.
	"Also, I need to ask you something . . . . I know that you haven't
been with a lot of men . . . . one before me . . . . or one-and-a-half you
said. "
	A bit shy, or maybe dreading the the impending question, Phil, with
mock seriousness, said, "Jeeze, I thought people 'pillow-talked' after
making love, not before!"
	Shiwa smiled, paused, kissed Phil's nose, paused again and said, "I
know . . . . We've done a lot of talking tonight . . . . but
. . . understandably we skirted some issues . . . one issue . . . . Phil,
the 'One,' was it . . . a relationship, is it a relationship?"
	"No. It wasn't. . . ." then he added, as if to further qualify his
answer, "It only happened once." And, as if further compelled to explain,
"The one other time . . . the first time was when I was just thirteen. Then
. . . I didn't do anything . . . I just laid there . . . I was pretty
scared."
	"Once? You'd only made love with a man once before last weekend?
Have you ever made love to a woman before."
	"Yes. . . yes, to both questions" quietly came the answer, not a
little embarrassed.
	The answer caused Shiwa to pull back slightly. His eyes reflected a
combination of wonder and some concern. "Phil, are you sure that you want
to continue this. . . . ?"
	"Continue? . . . . Of course, I . . . ."
	His answer was cut off by Shiwa's fingers pressed against Phil's
lips in an attempt to silence him, momentarily. Phil removed the quieting
fingers with his hand and was about to speak.
	"No, please," Shiwa interrupted. "I must say something!" he
insisted as he disengaged himself from the entwining embrace of Phil and
sat, cross-legged at his side.
	Phil's eyes widened in surprise, "What's wrong?" he thought. He
reached for Shiwa.
	Shiwa caught Phil's hands and held them in front of him, forearms
resting on crossed calves. Then he continued as he saw the concern,
"Please, let me speak. . . .please." He paused, trying to marshal his
thoughts. They were myriad, concerned, multiplied by his feelings, wonder
and fears. Fears of losing. His training took over as he tried to get to
the core, the center logically and quickly . . . the center of what he
perceived as the problem. Fearing what he felt was to be the answer.
	"Phil . . . , first, the fact that last weekend was only the second
time for you makes it even more meaningful for me. I'm not sure that I can
explain to you how special. . . . I keep on using that word 'special.' But
that's beside the point, right now. What does concern me, what I want to
know is if this is really what you want."
	Phil began to form an answer, but was over ridden, "No, please! Let
me continue. The fact that you had been with one man before last weekend
surprises and concerns me. I don't need to know, I don't want to know the
circumstances, or even who it was. But, I am really concerned about one
thing. I know that you have been through a pretty rough time the past few
months." His eyes locked on Phil, needing to know the completeness of his
communication. "It can't be easy losing a friend like that. The emotional
shock, I can only imagine, must be immense. . . . Frequently, I know, that
persons acting, reacting under these circumstances, do things, react in
ways that is often in opposition to their feelings, their training. They
respond to circumstances in ways that can only be described as 'aberrant.'
And, they are more often than not, regretful of their reactions afterwards.
	"Phil, I think that quite possibly these actions, your reactions
since Ed's death have been shock induced. And, that, my friend, is quite
understandable. You ought not feel guilty even though these feelings or
actions may bother you.
	"I say this because, again of how important last week was for
me. Important in a way that you may or may not be able or even willing to
understand. Phil, I have been with a number of men. A few before Dushya, my
wife, and a few after we were divorced . . . . not many, mind you. But
. . . . some time last Saturday night, I became aware . . . . or
consciously realized that you . . . could be very special to me. But
. . . the circumstances and what I had learned . . . about you, caused be
to think . . . to question . . . Phil," this he said squeezing Phil's hands
as if to emphasize what he was about to say and to gain his complete
attention. He took a deep breath, ". . . what I'm about to say, I hope
won't offend you, won't upset you too much, but . . . Sunday morning I felt
. . . no, I knew that I was falling in love with you." He paused, his eyes
still locked on Phil, willing him into silence. "I say these things for two
reasons. First, because I care
 for you and I don't want to cause you anymore pain than what you have
already been through recently. Second, maybe because of selfishness,
because I do care . . . . and I don't want to be hurt too much. . . . " He
glanced away for this last . . . . "What I want to say is that I understand
and you don't have to do this. Do you understand me?" he asked, glancing
back and then dropping his eyes,thereby, giving Phil leave to speak.
	Now it was Phil's turn. He had not taken his eyes off Shiwa's face
since he began this remarkable discourse.
	"What I do understand, Shiwa, is that your lawyer's
. . . barrister-logic may be very precise when you are confronted by
physical, material evidence. But, you don't have all the evidence now, and
much of it isn't physical or material." Shiwa's eyes raised to meet
Phil's. "Allow me to enlighten you," he started, an edge to his voice.
	It was an edge that Shiwa immediately recognized and he quickly
interrupted, "Phil, I thought you'd be upset, but I . . . ."
	It was Phil's turn to place his hand over Shiwa's
mouth. Deliberately, he said, "Now, my friend, I listened to you in
silence. Please, give me the same respect!" Shiwa was shocked into silence,
not at the vehemence of the statement, for it wasn't vehement, but the tone
brooked no alternative. "First, last week was special to me, I have already
stated that. Special, not only because you were the second man that I had
made love with . . . . The first time was important and in that sense
special as well. You don't need to know who or the details, except that it
was important. Important because it allowed me to consider an number of
things. Not only to consider, but to become aware of a number of
things. That is beside the point. I have been through . . . . been through
shit recently. It did allow me, gave me the impetus to consider a number of
things in my life as well as to . . . I guess 'jolt' me out of the
. . . lethargy Ed's . . . death (its' still
 hard to say the word) had imposed. So that when you and I made love last
week . . . I may not have anticipated it . . . and . . . I was, am still
feeling a bit fragile, I knew the implication. I knew what I was doing. You
may be ten years older than I, but, don't for a minute think that I am
mindless or don't have a will of my own. . . . Understand?" The last word
was said quietly and with tenderness.
	"Yes, I . . ." the words were stopped by Phil's raised 'stop'-hand.
	And, with a warm smile, "Give me one minute more. I have two things
to confess. . . . First, after you confessed last week about the key, I
must confess that I was glad, glad that you had been so sneaky." They both
chuckled. "Second, Shiwa, I really feel something for you. But, I must, I
want to be honest, I can't say that it's love. It's too soon. I guess I
don't know. My Mom says that the Beyer's are 'late bloomers.' It may be
that what I feel is love. But, I don't know. I do know that you are special
to me, very special. I want to be with you. I enjoy being with you. I have
looked forward this whole week to this visit. All week that's all I thought
about. That's all I can say. I hope that it's enough."
	With the last statement, the emotions of the past few minutes
caused Shiwa's eyes to brim. Phil sat up, gently clasped Shiwa's face with
his hands and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Can I ask you a question,
Shiwa?"
	"Of course . . . what is it?"
	"Can we make love?"
	That brilliant smile spread, illuminating everything, "I thought
you'd never ask."
	They fell into an embrace, both sitting, arms around each other,
heads nestled. Then they kissed and slowly lowered their bodies to their
former, entwined position.
	Moist mouth on moist mouth, covering each, tongues searching,
caressing, they continued. Slowly hands began to move over body
surface--touching, feeling reacting. As the sensitive finger pads moved
they imparted ever-increasing shock-like sensations on areas touched and so
doing returned like-shocks. Muscles tensed, contracted, relaxed only to
contract again. Each played their fingers over each others body,
caressingly as a master violinist caresses his instrument, extracting from
it the most that it has to offer.
	Shiwa rolled on top of Phil and move his lips and tongue to the
sensitive neck, just below the ear. His tongue rotated, describing a moist
circle and creating short rapid breathing in his 'instrument.' Trailing the
tongue downward, he stopped as lips sucked in a patch of sensitive skin in
the hollow of the neck. The action created a shudder and a deep primitive
groan issued from Phil--his spasming fingers clutching at the
mattress. Shiwa moved to one of the dollar-sized ruddy circles, lip-sucking
it into his mouth. His tongue flicked back and forth over the nipple,
bringing it to erection and super-sensitivity. The other nipple was rolled
between thumb and index finger, equally sensitized. The primitive groan
became a long, guttural "Aaarrhhh" as clutching fingers became white and
his head began to move back and forth, involuntary.
	Shiwa moved downwards over torso and belly licking and sucking the
sensitive skin while his hands moved in counter direction--fingers over
ribs and into moist arm pits. Fingertips communicated the excitement of
this erogenous area. His lips and tongue ceased their downward journey as
he quickly placed them in the warm, hairy, musky depression. With broad
tongue movements he laved that steamy depression breathing in its
erotically charged perfume.
	"Gawd . . . I can't stand it . . . !" exploded Phil, and he pushed
his head away.
	Both men were trembling with desire--one from giving, one from
receiving. Shiwa returned to the now heaving stomach, ran the tip of his
hot tongue into that marvelous birth-scar--again spasms.
	He knee-parted Phil's legs and kneeled between them, bent over as
if in supplication. Indeed, he was a supplicant--he knelt there, bent over,
head bowed and fingers wrapped around Phil's rigid cock. He remained so for
a few moments as he admired the treasure, the whole treasure and
contemplated his next move. Phil 's head bobbed as Shiwa wrapped his hands
around his prick. Then during those short moments of inaction his body
relaxed while his mind raced.
	He felt Shiwa's lips close over the head of his turgid cock-head
and he gasped at the feeling--hot, white hot; moist, salivating; energized
tongue, whirling, life-giving; mind-blowing, mind-fogging. Shiwa quickly
drew away with a moist popping sound. The warm evening air felt cool on the
spit covered cock-head. Again the warm moist suck-tunnel descended,
encasing cock-head and part of the shaft, ascended to just under the
flaring head and again slipped down the shaft even further. Slowly this
motion continued. Every down-thrust enveloped more of the shaft until nose
met hair. Hissing sounds escaped from between clenched teeth as Phil
renewed his mattress clutching and head whipping.
	He felt Shiwa's warm hands move down his outer-thighs and marveled
at how he could be aware of this feeling while his cock was so occupied. He
felt the hands move to the inner surface. He felt lips move rhythmically up
and down the length of his cock--tracing the crest of its head and the
pulsing veins.
	Shiwa's hands moved to the sensitive upper, inner surface. Phil's
body again began to twitch involuntarily at feelings so electric so
pervasive that his whole body was by now totally eroticized--his whole
physical being had become a one quivering erogenous zone. Fingers began to
move in a tantalizing manner over his balls. They pulled tight. His balls
were hand-cupped, transmitting their warmth. A finger arched from one side
of his ball-sack to the other--trailing lightly its fingernail--sending
jerks of seismic proportions up his spine and into every fiber of his
being. The sucking-licking motioned continued again, up and down, flicking
tongue. Fingers lovingly fondled the balls. In and out of that hot, moist,
pleasure giving mouth Phil's hard cock was propelled.
	Then there came a feeling that he had never experienced. The shock
of it, its novelty caused a loud mounting "Aaarrhhh." Not low and guttural
as before, but higher pitched and louder came the sound as Shiwa's
fingernail lightly grazed that puckered opening. Shiwa's torso was
momentarily leg-clamped, but a deep gut-sigh from Phil seemed to have
released the vise-like thighs and they returned to their V'd position. They
rested slightly wider apart than before. Small beads of sweat popped out
over the whole surface of Phil's body.
	Until now, neither of the two had spoken--not spoken since this
duet had started. Now Phil raised his head, eyes erotically glazed.
	"Ohhh . . . god, I've never felt this way before."
	Shiwa raised his head from Phil's ruddy-headed cock. "Do you want
me to stop?" came the question, both knowing the answer.
	"No . . . . no."
	Shiwa returned to his slow, cosmic sucking. This time the pad of
his finger rubbed across the tight sphincter. Phil groaned. His thighs
spread even further apart, knees flexed. His feet came to rest, flat on
either side of Shiwa's bent knees. As if by the strings of some unseen
marionette master he open fully his legs, like a book. His flexed legs now
exposed fully his asshole. Shiwa's cock-stuffed mouth smiled. He
continued. His finger, in ever increasing rapidity, moved back-and-forth
and around the now quivering opening. Chill-like contractions, pleasingly
and painful at the same time shot up Phil' spine and forced uncontrollable
low moans from his lips.
	Phil felt as though it was on fire. Never, never had he experienced
such a sensation. He groaned in primordial need.
	Rivulets of saliva from Shiwa's sucking mouth ran over tightened,
hairy balls and down the equally hairy cleft to where finger caressed the
now sensitized opening. Shiwa massaged the saliva with ever-increasing
pressure around the puckered opening. This ministration relaxed, slightly
the twitching sphincter--relaxed it enough for Shiwa's spit-lubricated
finger to invade the threshold of the outer muscle-ring. Phil gasped.
	"Do you want me to stop?" Shiwa asked having stopped his cock
sucking action.
	"No," was the answer, nonverbally communicated by the shake of his
head.
	The finger rotated in its little muscled sheath. Increased pressure
was exerted. The inner muscled-gate was breached suddenly and the finger
disappeared to its second knuckle. Again Phil gasped, but this time his
body jerked, along its whole length, as if trying to escape the offending
intrusion. Shiwa carefully withdrew his finger.
	"Don't stop," Phil asked, voice strained.
	"There will be other times," came the hopeful reply. Shiwa extended
himself, bracketed Phil's chest and kissed him tenderly with his cock-wet
lips. "Oh, Phil, Phil," was all he could say.
	They embraced.
	Then, with out preamble, Phil, erotically charged, jackknifed up
and over Shiwa. He opened his mouth and tongued the soft, purplish, fluted
edge of Shiwa's foreskin. He sucked the elastic covering into his
mouth. Now his tongue explored, as his finger and thumb had done the week
before, this sensual wonder and he did wonder! He marveled at how his
tongue was transmitting to him sensual feelings, unknown feelings,
unexplored feelings, unimagined feelings. And as his tongue was thus
occupied, his right hand explored the tightly curled hairs which surrounded
the base of Shiwa's cock.
	He pushed the cock-cover back over the throbbing, purple-red,
glistening head with his tongue. He lowered his head until half the length
of the swollen, thick dick was in his mouth. When the engorged cock-head
reached the back of his mouth, he withdrew slightly. He took a deep breath
through his nose trying to halt his gag response. The sensation that he had
experienced the week before was not as violent. He had been prepared. He
lowered his lips again, his cheeks rhythmically dimpling as he
sucked. Lower than the first time--he had reached the half-length. Again
the gag trigger began to be released.
	Shiwa, unaware of Phil's response, reveled in the sensations of the
mouth. No! That's not quite true. He was incredibly eroticized by the fact
that it was Phil's mouth pistoning up and down his dick.
	Phil, willing himself to do so, continued the petit vacuum. His
feelings, his reactions became super-charged (later, as he would try to
analyze his reactions, his actions, and he would realize that it was just
as much a turn-on giving pleasure as it was receiving it). He released
Shiwa's cock , turned and kissed Shiwa with his whole being, with his
soul. Shiwa groaned, his body arched.
	In part, to contain Shiwa's flexing body, in part, to fulfill some
unconscious need, Phil swung his leg over Shiwa, pinioning him against the
mattress. His movement brought the shaft of Shiwa hot, jerking cock against
the still sensitized, puckered hole. The touch was electric to both. Shiwa
froze in anticipation. Phil stunned at his own reaction, began to tilt his
hips forward and backward, rubbing this tightly puckered, now
nuclear-erotic-center against the engorged under-rib of Shiwa's rock rigid
cock. Both groaned as they experienced the feelings of the friction.
	Shiwa enveloped Phil in his arms, hugged him closely and whispered,
"Oh, Phil, I lo. . . . I like what you do to me."
	Phil raised up slightly, smiled down into Shiwa's face, then
lowered his head to kiss him again. His hips continued their rocking,
frictation.
	Phil raised up bracing himself with his arms, Shiwa's embracing
arms slipped down to Phil's waist. Phil glanced to the bedside table. He
had noticed earlier that there was a bottle of lotion along with two
moistened, rolled-up towels on a small tray. He reached for the
lotion. Shiwa's eyes followed his movement. Sitting back now, Phil opened
the bottle, poured some of the viscous liquid into the palm of his hand and
began to slather it over the whole length of Shiwa's hard, rigid cock.
	The shock of the cool liquid brought an in-breathing hiss from
Shiwa. "Phil, you really don't have to. . . . "
	"I know, but I want to," came the reply.
	He raised his hips and placed another dollop of the liquid on his
twitching, sphinctered opening. Clasping the lubricated cock, Phil
positioned it in the cleft of his ass. He slowly manipulated the cock-head
back and forth in that haired-crease. The motion sent both men into
paroxysms of sex-centered pleasure.
	Phil stopped the movement. The pulsing, purple cock-head rested
against his tight-clamped hole. He lowered, slightly his hips. He could
feel the pressure of the hard, muscled crest as it pushed against his
counter-straining opening. He increased the pressure, marveling at the
strength of both organs, and not knowing how to control his muscles. He
raised up . . . .
	"Phil!"
	"It's okay," he said as he again lowered his weight. This time a
bit more forcefully. He felt the outer ring give way. The head,
half-sheathed, popped into the vestibule. Then without delay he lowered
himself even further.
	He felt not only the head but an inch of the shaft disappear into
his hole. . . .simultaneously he experienced a gut-wrenching
pain. "Aaahhh," unconsciously escaped from his throat as he rocketed off
that offending instrument. He grimaced with pain, head thrown back, eyes
slammed shut, hands tightly locked on his thighs. He took deep gulps of
air.
	Shiwa, immediately sat up, wrapping his arms around Phil's
shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.
	"Yeah, yeah. . . I wasn't prepared for . . . for the pain," he
stated as he tried to will away the residual ache, eyes clenched closed,
deep breathing.
	"Are you sure?"
	"Yes! I'm okay," came the quick and not too convincing reply.
	Shiwa continued to hold the slowly relaxing form--rocking him
quietly in his arms. Presently, he turned Phil off his lap and gently laid
him down on the mattress. "I know something that will help."
	"No, no . . . ," came the reply as Phil tried to pull Shiwa back
down, "I'm okay . . . really. I want to continue. . . . "
	Shiwa smiled knowingly, "I don't think so . . . . . I don't think
you can . . . and . . . I know that I can't."
	"Why?"
	Shiwa merely looked down on his now flaccid, hanging cock, shifted
his eyes knowingly to Phil's eyes, then to Phil's soft laying prick, and,
finally, back again to his eyes. He smiled and Phil returned the smile
acknowledging the non-verbal communication. Then he reached for one of the
moist, rolled-up towels and disappeared into the bathroom. Phil closed his
eyes. The pain was now nearly gone. He felt empty and not a little
embarrassed at his reaction. Shiwa returned, sat on the edge of the bed and
gently put his hand on Phil's thigh.
	"Spread your legs, Phil . . . . wider." And, as Phil obeyed, Shiwa
took the folded towel, now steaming and pushed it up against Phil's still
pain-tender ass. The warmth of the towel felt marvelous as it ministered to
that pain-stressed part.
	"Oh, god . . . that feels good."
	"Close your legs and hold it there."
	Phil, again did as Shiwa asked and luxuriated in the balm-like
feeling. Shiwa lay beside Phil, his arm encircling his chest, and whispered
quietly, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
	"No, don't be, I'm okay, really." Then with emotions reflected in
the tone of his voice, "I feel so silly . . . . embarrassed. . . ."
	"Embarrassed? You don't need to, Phil. . . . This was, I assume,
your first time."
	"Yeah."
	"You should have told me . . . . I could have helped."
	"Helped? But, I wanted to . . . . you make me so horny . . . . I
wanted you inside me."
	"You make me horny too. If you hadn't have gotten me so hot, I
might have realized that . . . ."
	Phil rolled on his side and put his free arm about Shiwa's
waist. "No more apologies . . . . All right?"
	"All right."
	They moved closer, both needing the closeness of the other, and
together, thus relaxed, they simultaneously slipped into a deep restful
sleep.

	Some hours later, in the early morning, Phil awoke. He nestled
closer to Shiwa as they were still in each other's arms. Warmly, he
recalled the previous evening and the raging sensations that Shiwa had
aroused in him. He sleepily smiled as he realized that his cock was
hard. Then as he drew closer to consciousness, he realized that he had to
take a piss. Again he smiled at this mind-trick, "a piss-hard-on!" Slowly,
carefully his extracted himself from Shiwa's embrace, wanting not to wake
him. His movement caused a low, sleep-groan to escape from Shiwa and he
rolled onto his back and continued to sleep.
	Phil returned to the bedroom and looked down on Shiwa's quietly
sleeping nude form, dark and masked by the ambient light from the
window. "You're beautiful," he thought to himself as he visually caressed
the mahogany form. His cock began to grow, this time not in a need-to-piss
reaction. His eyes focused on the soft love-tool arched over Shiwa's
thigh. "Beautiful."
	A short time later, Shiwa was experiencing a steamingly erotic
dream. It was so hot, so compelling--he began to rise to consciousness and
fought to remain in the luxurious embrace of the sex-dream. As he reached
that edge between the dream world and wakefulness, he realized that the
lush sensations did not recede, but continued. He be came aware,
consciously aware of a warm suctioning on his cock. He groaned as he fought
the neutrality that being awake usually brought to his dreams--never to be
thoroughly recaptured--but still the sensation continued. He opened his
eyes and fought to focus upon the dark form, silhouetted, over his thighs
and crotch. Then he realized that this was not a succubus. This was not a
dream. This was Phil, hotly sucking his cock.
	"I thought I was dreaming," his voice came, low and husky from
sleep.
	In an equally husky voice, "I didn't want to wake you . . . . I had
to piss . . . and when I came back, your sleeping body turned me on
again. Sorry . . . ."
	"Hmm, I'm not . . . ."
	Phil returned to his pleasurable sucking for a short time. Then he
stopped. Shiwa opened his eyes and tried to focus in the partial
darkness. He saw, or thought he saw Phil fumble for something. "What's the
matter?" he asked softly.
	"Nothing . . ." and then, also softly, "I need your help."
	"Help?"
	"You said that you'd help me."
	The realization dawned upon him. "Phil," he said as he tried to sit
up. He felt Phil's hand, chest-placed, gently force him back, "
. . . later."
	"I know, my love, but I want to. . . . ." he said, almost
unconscious of the choice of the term.
	But, the term 'my love' had not escaped Shiwa.
	Phil slathered the night-cooled lotion over Shiwa's mouth-heated
cock. And then, again, "Please help me!"
	Shiwa groaned as Phil's hot hand rubbed the cool lotion up and down
his throbbing dick. "Put some lotion on your asshole," he rasped, Phil
complied. "Now slowly insert your finger . . . inside . . . slowly. Try to
relax, take deep breaths, that'll help."
	Again, Phil did as he was told. Slowly, aware of the incredible
energy oscillating between them, he exerted pressure on his tight orifice,
bringing forth a deep throated moan from his throat. With twisting motion
of his finger, he exerted more pressure on the little mouth. He willed
himself to relax. He breathed deeply. The puckered hole opened, or rather,
released its pressure, and his finger slipped past the vestibule. He
exhaled deeply, as he marveled at the sensation that his own finger was
giving him. Then, more pressure, and his finger slipped past the second
muscled ring with some ease and into the dark, warm, moist recesses of his
own ass.
	"Aaahhh," breathlessly escaped from his throat.
	"Take care . . . breath deeply . . . deep breaths . . . relax,"
came Shiwa's concerned voice. Shiwa's concentration and his concern had the
effect of a drooping, half-erection.
	"It's Okay . . . . it feels good . . . . Ohhh, it feels good!"
	Phil's reaction to his auto-eroticism reinstated slowly Shiwa's
erection. A smile spread across his face. "Now slowly remove it and then
put it in again . . . . move it in and out a little."
	Phil followed the directions and Shiwa could see the silhouetted
head move back and forth as breath hissed across clenched teeth.
	"Breath . . . breath deeply . . . relax!"
	Phil continued to do as he was told. He reveled in the new
sensations he was experiencing.
	"Ohhh . . . Shiwa," came low, almost as a groan, and then with true
need, "I want you inside me." Saying this he removed his finger, grasped
Shiwa's cock and began to position himself.
	"Take is slow, my love, don't go so fast."
	Again, more breathlessly this time, "I want you . . . . inside
. . . . me."
	Phil centered the cock head and slowly lowered his weight. He felt
pressure.
	"Relax, push out, try to push your asshole out," Shiwa said. His
voice mirrored his concern as well as his sexually charged state.
	Phil willed himself to relax his muscles and pushed out as Shiwa
directed. The pressure seemed to lessen and then the outer gate gave up its
clench and the purple cock-head popped into the vestibule. Phil gasped, but
this time not with the shock of pain but in erotic anticipation of what was
to come.
	"Are you all right? We don't have to go on . . . ."
	"Yes, yes we do, " he hissed and then, "I do!" He took another
deep, lung-cleansing breath, pushed out again and exerted more weight. The
inner wall collapsed and Phil could feel the ridge of that purple cock-head
slide past. The sensation was not pain, and he breathed deeply in
relief. "Ohhh. . . ." He held himself, suspended.
	Shiwa, too, "Ohhh. . . , " as he felt that tight, virgin-muscle
snap-lock over his cock-head. "Ohhh," came again, and then, "Are you all
right?"
	"Yessss . . . . it feels good," Phil said. It was not a lie, maybe
not the truth, either. He lowered himself a bit further and retracted the
same distance. It wasn't pain that he felt. There was a strange stuffed
feeling that he was experiencing. He lowered himself again, a little
further and smiled as he heard Shiwa groan. He retracted somewhat and then
lowered still further. Nearly the entire length of Shiwa's cock was
embedded up his ass. He could feel his balls brushing lightly against cock
hairs. He took another deep breath and lowered his ass all the way--his
balls firmly nested in thick cock hairs and only the deeply muscled thighs
supporting his buttocks halted further insertion. He sat on Shiwa's thighs
forcing his mind to accept the sensation of that thick muscled, fully
inserted form stuffing him.
	To that point, all Shiwa had been able to do was to utter
involuntary guttural sounds. "Ohhh, Gawd . . . ," he forced himself to
verbalize, "Your ass feels sooo . . . so indescribable."
	Phil could feel his ass-muscles ripple, involuntarily. Shiwa's head
arched.
	"Aaahhh."
	Then Phil began to slowly move his tight, virgin ass up and down
Shiwa's lubricated, pole. As he continued this motion he felt a warmth
which began to infuse his being. He could feel that sensitive outer surface
slip over the vein-laced expanse of Shiwa's cock and it began to transmit a
new, never-before-felt sensation. He quickly became aware that it was a
pleasant, very pleasant feeling that Siwa's rigid pole was giving him.
	"Ohhh," Phil gasped, "It feels good."
	Shiwa smiled inwardly as his head head began to whip back in forth
in mounting ecstasy. His hand moved to the hardened cock, bobbing over his
lower abdomen and there moved up and down its length.
	Phil groaned and quicken his pace, as did Shiwa.
	Soon Shiwa let out a loud, "Aaarrhhh." His whole body spasmed.
	Deep inside his core, Phil's sensitive ass muscles detected rapid,
rhythmic movements. This coupled with Shiwa's cry and his cock-jacking hand
catapulted Phil over the edge. His body convulsed; stomach muscles
contracted doubling him up; thigh muscles contracted autonomically as he
continued that primal dance on Shiwa's exploding cock; jaw muscles
contracted and his teeth clamped, vice-like; ass muscles contracted and
rippled around the thick, pulsing, penetrating cock. This latter reaction
caused Shiwa to experience seizure-like spasms as he grasped Phil's hot
expanding cock even harder. Then from the small slit exploded a high
arching cum load that landed on Shiwa's shoulder..
	"Arh . . . . Aarhh . . . . Aaarrhhh . . . AAARRHHH!" came from deep
inside Phil. Repeated, primal cries--loud and rapid at first, matched by
spurt after spurt of cum, then lessening in volume and slowing to guttural
groans and a mere dribble of spent opalescent fluid--and Phil collapsed
onto Shiwa, panting. He had had many orgasms before, but none like this
body-convulsion, galvanic reaction. His his panting lessened, so did his
twitching. He gathered enough of his wits to whisper into Shiwa's ear, "Oh,
god . . .that was wonderful . . . ."
	"Yes, wonderful. . . ." was all the usually verbal Shiwa could
muster.
	Both nestled together, Shiwa below, Phil on top, his thighs still
encasing Shiwa's thighs and his ass still enfolding Shiwa's cock. Both
breathing rhythms returned to normal. And, like earlier, both fell again
into a deep dreamless, satisfied sleep.

	Phil woke to the smell of coffee. He stretched his satiated body
and yawned in the warm light of the mid-morning sun. Shiwa came through the
bedroom door, holding a mug of steaming coffee for him.
	"I had a most wonderful dream last night," Shiwa announced with a
broad smile on his face, handing the mug to Phil.
	Accepting the mug, he replied, "I think I'm dreaming right now."
	"Dreaming? Why?"
	"I've never been served coffee in bed before by a buck-naked man,"
he said with an equally broad smile.
	"Don't you like it?"
	"What? The coffee or your naked body?" he asked with a smirk.
	"Both, you ass!" came the laughing reply. Shiwa leaned over and
gently kissed Phil on the lips, "you drink your coffee, m' man while I take
a shower."
	"Can I watch?" again with a smirk.
	"Not this time," Shiwa replied with a smile as he disappeared into
the bathroom.

	It was four months later, while Phil nestled against Shiwa's back
in the warm confines of Phil's bed, four months of weekly 'get togethers,'
wildly passionate at first, then mounting to that level of contentment and
acceptance, that Phil said, "I find you most wonderful. Never had I dreamt
that this would happen. . . ," then he added, consciously, purposefully,
". . . my love."
	Shiwa smiled, and his eyes filled with tears.
	"Did you hear me?" Phil asked.
	"Yes, I heard you. . . ."
	"Did you hear what I said?"
	"Yes, Phil, I heard what you said. It's is the second time you said
it."
	"No, it's the first time!" came the insistent reply.
	"Yes. . . you're right. . . ." quietly and with understanding came
the reply. An understanding that grew from love.
	"Shiwa, I'm falling in love with you."
	Shiwa smiled and moved his back closer to Phil, content in the
promise of the future.

	The beginning of the sacrament. A commitment with no secrets.