Date: Mon, 13 Dec 1999 09:41:43 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Planet of Desire IV: Secret of the Turtle Men, Chapter 7

		    Secret of the Turtle Men, Chapter 7
			      "Turtle Valley"
			   by Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

     The moon was close to setting and Pavel was thoroughly chilled from
the long flight when one of his Ifrit companions finally said, "There is
the Turtle Valley." one Ifrit said.  "We must land and leave you very
soon."
     Turtle Valley.  It was huge when compared to the small sliver of
arable land the Ifriti made do with and perhaps one-third the size of
Pavel's own home valley.  The mountains here had retreated to either side,
leaving a wide, oval, mostly level swath between them with two meandering
rivers, and this land was covered with people.  It reminded Pavel of
Connobar; although smaller, narrower, and landlocked, it held the wide
patches of cultivated land, the many lights of several villages around
and...that central place must be the home town of the Angels.  He had
always thought of them as living as the Ifrit did, but there were
buildings, thin and beautiful even by night.  The Angels favored tall
towers, and lights shone from openings at all heights in them.
     "Where shall we place you, human?" the Ifrit insisted.  "We must make
haste, the Angels are not without night defenses.  They dislike night
flight as do we, but like us, they can do it if they need to."
     "Uh...there."  Pavel pointed, awkwardly, with one arm toward a
singular shining light on a hill nearby, indistinguishable save as a
sparkle of light, as if a star glistened on the ground rather than in the
heavens.  "There's a campfire.  Take me as close to that as you can."  The
fire looked inviting indeed to his shivering, goose-bump-covered body.  He
wished that, as the Sultan of Medina Jadeed, he had opted for the thicker
common weave rather than this thinner, almost silken cloth.  But all his
warmer clothing had been left behind with Aram and the sukhusans.  He
prayed Aram was safe, as his friends still held captive.  Well, he would
see Jethro soon, no doubt.
     The Ifriti didn't drop him at all near the campfire.  They alighted
and he was left on a rocky hill and the campfire was perhaps a quarter-mile
away.  He sighed and began to walk it.  As he walked, he felt the wind
still cutting at his body, so that it felt like his cheeks were actually
being sliced open with a thousand tiny creases into his skin.  He felt his
body beginning to pant at the exertion as he made it down the hillside,
cursing feebly the Ifrit.  The least they could have done was stick around
and helped him get warm.  To feel those hairy bodies next to his, those
snake-like pricks crawling up his body leaving paths of warmth in their
wake, ahh, to be warm while they slithered over his body and reaching out
to take the morel-mushroom head into his mouth, darting his tongue over the
coppery-tasting skin as his cock...his cock...oh, no!
     "Oh, no!" he panted.  The mist!  The pink mist held this valley in
thrall as it did Pavel's own valley of Facilitata!  He had lived without it
for so long, so many days save for the twice-daily incursions of the
Khamsin and its more erratic presence in the trek through the mountains; he
had almost forgotten what its constant presence could do to him.  To be
alone on Desire was a bad thing, a very, very bad thing!
     Whoever tended that campfire, Pavel gave over hope of him being
attractive, or young, or anything at all.  So long as he was human or a
reasonable facsimile thereof, Pavel would reach for him happily!  Whether
he were ugly, deformed or diseased wouldn't matter, if he had a dick, Pavel
was riding it!
     He broke into a run despite the shortness of breath.  Strange, it was
like there was less to breathe around him.  Was he still suffering the
effects of that bell-shaped flower Isham had put him under?  But he had
felt fine yesterday.  Must be the cold air.
     The light finally showed itself to be a square, it was inside a home!
A home meant people, more than one most likely.  He might have some choice
in his partner after all!
     The single light turned out to be an oddly glowing plant on the
window-sill; he had seen it from the air because it sent out several
discrete beams of light in different directions, though all faced outwards
from the window.  Pavel looked at it warily, remembering the night-beacon
which had trapped him so thoroughly, but this plant resembled more the
Earth plant called a daffodil, a grouping of individual stalks with a
trumpet shaped flower on the end which produced the light from inside
itself and the trumpet aimed the beam.  Some sort of outdoor lighting,
Pavel decided, and looked inside.
     A single form asleep on the bed just below the window, and warmth
emanated from within, courtesy of a fire burning on the hearth.  Pavel
looked, and found the rest of the house boarded up with windows shuttered
against the cold.  Between the light and the closed doors, it seemed like
the occupants didn't wish intruders; so why, then, this single open window
and its sleeping, and therefore helpless, occupant?  Pavel looked again at
the figure, lying atop covers and soundly asleep, nude.  His body was pale
white in the insufficient light.  Still, Pavel's body was aching, in need
of release, this man would do, no doubt, but he'd like to have a better
look first!
     An idea occurred to him, he grasped one of the stalks of the plant and
turned it to let it beam its light inwards.  He got a look at the figure on
the bed, sleeping face-down with one leg raised, his buttocks proud orbs,
his shoulders and upper back wide, his head bearing orange-red hair which
was lush and wavy, his skin was fair and shone with vigor and health, his
body was filled out well in the way of a youth who had worked hard on the
farm such as Pavel had.
     The figure stirred in the added light, and awoke suddenly, turned in
bed and called out.  "Ho, there!"
     "Ho." Pavel said.  It was the Turtle Man's version of "Hello", and
Pavel chose to speak with the circumspection his father had used so well
and often with the Turtle Men's leader, Telar.  "I am a traveler and a
stranger to this land.  The mist has seized me and I tremble with my need.
May I join you?"
     "Of course." the young man said.  He was, judging from the voice and
the face Pavel now saw clearly lean-jawed, smooth-faced, broad forehead and
simple, undeceitful eyes, his chest was a beautiful sculpture of perfect
manhood; he was handsome enough that Pavel would wish this young man even
without the mist's siren call.  "That is why I placed the bachelor's light
in my window.  Come in and be welcomed."
     "How do I enter?  Your door is barred." Pavel pointed out.
     The man seemed surprised.  "You enter through the window, of course."
The youth reached up and grasped the pot the plant grew in and placed it on
the floor on the other side of the bed.  In these moves, Pavel saw the
muscles moving in glistening harmony, and now the plant's light lit the
entire room, and the bed was clear and beckoning to him.
     The window-sill was low enough to make the climb inside easy, Pavel
got one knee on the sill and levered himself in.  Now he was glad of his
garments, a rich sheen of fine cloth which let him be a man of obvious
means and regal bearing; this farm lad was being visited by royalty!  The
young man seemed to realize this, and as Pavel entered the room, the grin
on his face was broad, welcoming and friendly, even eager.
     Pavel stood on the bed in his red shoes of satin with soft leather
soles and upturned toes, his pants were baggy at the ankles where they
constricted tight, a wide red sash at his waist helped to both cover the
inadequacies of his leggings and to hold the buttonless shirt in place, his
chest left visible in a wide "V".  Pavel knew his new companion was taking
in his appearance, and he posed briefly for the young man, before moving to
kneel down on the bed and take the fair-skinned arms in his own, and their
bodies met halfway and pressed against each other.
     "I am Pavel." Pavel said hastily, his chest heaving with his need.
God, he wasn't going to last any time between this handsome stud and his
need boiling his balls.
     "I am Pelen." the young man said quickly and in the rote of a formula.
"Welcome to my bed and may you find it pleasing enough to remain until full
daylight."
     "I'm sure I will." Pavel said and kissed those warm, pink-white lips,
felt the tongue slide eagerly into his mouth, tasting of young life and
vitality.  He suckled it and relinquished it back to its owner, sent his
own in return.
     Pelen sucked on Pavel's tongue and then released it, said, "Your
tongue has an odd taste to it.  I like it."
     "Probably the Ifriti's sperm." Pavel said, gasping.  "They gave me a
ride here."
     "The Ifriti?" Pelen didn't seem to know them and Pavel felt
disinclined to lecture about the Ifrit at this time.  He kissed Pelen
instead, and the question died in that kiss; Pavel let Pelen lower him to
the bed and felt the ample, white skin as it moved over him, a leg sliding
between his own, pressing a pool of hot flesh against his thigh, an arm
that reached inside his shirt to find and play with his nipple, move around
to caress his rib cage.
     Pavel groaned and thrust his hips upwards, Pelen's leg was in position
to let Pavel rub his crotch against it, and Pavel did, enjoying the feel of
the strong leg and only the thin cloth hindering the touch.
     Pelen groaned and hunched at Pavel in return, and in this rut of young
lust, Pelen fought Pavel's shirt off from him, the silky cloth sliding
easily from beneath Pavel to go over his head and Pelen cast it to the
floor, it landing over the top of the plant and giving the light a more
diffused glow, turning this room and all contents into golden beauty.
     It was the glow of the room, and the glow of his passion, Pavel knew,
and yet this man, this stranger, stirred something within him that was more
than the rut of need.  He felt an unaccountable tenderness stirring in his
breast, he desired to kiss and stroke this body, urge it to pleasure on a
level far above that of mere cordiality, he felt a need to bring this man
pleasure in the same measure as his own.
     Pelen's hand stroked Pavel's chest in long, slow strokes, and a thrill
raced through Pavel's body from the skin as it was touched.  When the hands
went down to his sash and undid the loose knot at one side, casting the
sash out until it was a mere strip of red cloth, as they untied the
double-loop of his leggings, Pavel felt as if these hands, these warm,
smooth hands, were revealing his soul in every movement.
     Pelen pulled the leggings apart and Pavel's cock was free to point
proudly skyward, and Pelen dove onto him and took him down in one lithe,
practiced, adept motion.  Pavel's cock was revealed and then it was hidden,
covered in warmth, coated in moisture that breathed sheer life into it, and
he groaned, his hands found Pelen's head and stroked through the scalp in
gratitude as his cock bubbled in waves of joy as the lips milked and
clutched at him.
     "Ah, ah, please, turn around that we may share!" Pavel gasped.  Pelen
moved around obediently, managing to accomplish this with only a few slight
misses on the strokes he was giving Pavel's pud.  His cock was almost
gurgling angrily at the infusion of the mist back into his blood-stream, he
inhaled it with every breath it seemed, and this body, the way it livened
him with every touch, must be suffused with the mist as well in some way,
for every touch of Pelen's body upon his own, however slight and
accidental, was a source of warm pleasure to his senses.
     Pelen's cock finally made it to Pavel's lips and he reached out and
took the long, golden-sheened prong into him, tasting the rich texture and
relishing the velvet delight of it upon his tongue, he was heady,
intoxicated by the taste of this cock, the feel of this man.  He suckled at
it and was rewarded by moans of pleasure from his partner while his own
cock, plied with adroit skill, was brought to new heights of pleasure.
     He was too close, he had known this from the start, yet his incipient
orgasm seemed a betrayal and Pavel sought some way to prolong it, yet Pelen
held him tightly within his arms around Pavel's thighs, and Pelen's lips
never paused in their steady suction, and Pavel groaned partially in desire
and partially in frustration as his climax rose in the back of his brain
and assailed his senses, alone and far too soon, he was groaning and
jerking while his cock ignited into a burning pillar of passion, he was in
the clutches of his need, he gave Pelen every warning his body, lost in the
throes of desire, could give, and yet Pelen milked him onwards while this
warm cock within Pavel's mouth and throat was so very, very far from its
completion.
     Pavel gave a last desperate gasp, the sound coming from far away or
deep inside him, he wasn't sure which, he was lost within his own skull,
having become detached from his body somehow, he was now wrapped up in his
need and he groaned despairingly as his body, wracked with lust, burst into
firework-gloried explosions behind his eyeballs and he was lost among the
lights and could only moan and gurgle helplessly while holding fast to
Pelen's pud, the sole area of conscious control he had left now.
     Pavel pumped his wads into Pelen's mouth, and felt his young lover
gulp it down greedily, he was being sucked dry as quick as he could produce
it, so that his cock stayed clean and dry throughout, no stickiness touched
him at all, it all went into this warm, drawing abyss which was Pelen's
mouth, and he was wrung dry thus, and left limp and gasping while a hard
prong in his mouth reminded him that he had not yet finished his part in
this.
     Tired, exhausted from the long trip and getting sleepier by the
minute, he roused himself and valiantly began to suck on Pelen's prong.
Pelen lay still, stroking Pavel's body and accepting Pavel's ministrations,
but perhaps he tired of Pavel's uninspired actions, or perhaps he realized
that Pavel was tired, for he withdrew from Pavel and said, "You are tired,
my lover, but if I may take my pleasure with you, I can let you rest."
     "Thanks." Pavel said a bit ruefully.  The cutest hunk he'd seen in a
while, and he was too tired to do him justice.  "I am tired, it has been a
long trip.  Maybe I can give you better attention tomorrow."
     Pelen rolled Pavel onto his back and pulled the leggings off Pavel
entirely, leaving him nude in Pelen's arms as Pelen lowered his beautiful,
strong, clean body onto Pavel and Pavel felt the spit-slicked cock pressing
at his anus.  He started to yawn, turned it into a groan and Pelen took
that as the invitation to press into him.
     Damn, this cock felt good inside him!  He felt just properly full, not
strained and groaning under the fulsome load, but just well-filled, as if
the cock had molded itself to his inside, or maybe his inside had molded
itself to that beautiful pud.  Maybe the Turtle Men were somehow saturated
with the mist, and that explained the way this body turned him on more,
beyond the call of passion.  He loved the way the light shone in golden
crescents all over the lithe form, the way the muscles were clean lines
that made Pelen's body more of a sculpture or a work of art rather than the
warm reality, so that when Pelen's body touched him, he was surprised to
find it alive and yielding to his own, rather than cold and hard.  That
made every touch, every move of Pelen's body somehow more than just
lovemaking, more than just passion, Pavel yearned for that touch, to keep
touching him and to remain touching him on and on....
     Pelen fucked at Pavel, and Pavel found his body responding yet again
to the warm thrusts that vacated and filled and re-emptied from his bowels
in turgid completeness; this felt so very, very right!
     Pavel's cock, still slick with Pelen's saliva, began to rise again, so
that it stood erect, the head red-feeling and raw, but pulsing happily just
the same as Pavel's prostate was massaged with every stroke, his body
touched by those warm, strong, handsome hands, Pavel saw Pelen's cheek in a
sharp relief, an ellipse of brighter sheen on his face, and Pelen's smile
was kind and genial, Pavel felt his lower back quiver and a line of thrill
raced up his spine, for Pelen's hands had shifted and now Pavel was bent
almost double as Pelen held Pavel's ass high up in the air and was humping
him lustily, those fingers were touching his backbone at the small of his
back, and that was the source, the beginning of this pleasure, as if seeds
of fire jumped from those fingertips and raced along the bony highway right
to his brain.
     That handsome face was softened, vulnerable with pleasure, and Pelen
was more gorgeous than ever in this look, the tender lover, giving himself
rather than wrenching his pleasure from Pavel, so that as Pavel felt the
heat build in Pelen's shaft, the heat transferred to his own prong, and
Pavel groaned in renewed desire, and Pelen was moving faster inside of him
now, and now there was a friction building in his anus, now Pavel was being
humped with more than he could easily accommodate, now he had to yield to
Pelen's needs, and that caused his brain to shift into overdrive, for
Pelen's face flushed violet in the yellowish light in the room, and Pavel
felt Pelen's seed burst into him, and he groaned, spurting a load against
Pelen's flat abdomen, bathing them both in his liquid lust, spraying them
with the pearly passion, and Pelen in the height of his climax, still
roaring with his pleasure, leaned down and kissed Pavel hard, grunting his
passion into Pavel's mouth and taking Pavel's wracked sobs in return,
drinking in each other like this, until again the bodies were surfeited,
and again Pavel fell into the chasm of spent need, and dropped from there
easily into the black pit of slumber....
     An odd sound awakened Pavel much later, a jingling sound of many bells
that built slowly and interspersed with a call from high, high above that
made its way faintly down.  "Ah-yay, ah-yay!  The day has begun anew.
Ah-yay, ah-yay!  Awaken and be joyful!  Ah-yay, ah-yay...."  There was more
to this chant, but it faded away; having never been more than a light
murmur in the distance.
     "You are still here." came a murmur in his ear.  Pavel turned over and
looked into the sleep-tousled face of Pelen.
     "Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Pavel asked.
     "But...this was your first visit to me." Pelen said, acting baffled.
     Pavel was baffled himself.  "Why should I leave your bed.  It's not
polite to duck out in the middle of the night."
     "Ah, you said you were new to our valley." Pelen said.  "Did the
Angels not tell you of our customs?"
     "I told you it was the Ifriti who brought me here." Pavel said.  "I
need to speak with the Angels, though."
     "You speak truth?" Pelen sat up abruptly.  He looked out.  "Ah, the
sun has nearly arisen.  Quick, my visiting lover, you must arise and leave
by the window quickly!"
     "Why?"
          "Do it, now!" Pelen pushed Pavel bodily out of the bed.  Pavel
gathered his clothing, baffled.  "Have I done something wrong?"
     "No, but you will if you stay.  My fathers will be up shortly.  Wait a
short time and knock on the door and we will feed you.  But you must not be
in my room when he opens the door.  Hurry, hurry!  I hear his footsteps!"
     Pavel decided to take Pelen's advice, he dove all bare into the
downright cold morning air.  Outside, he heard voices inside.
     "Ah, my son, you had a visitor during the night?"
     "Yes, father, a visitor to our valley as well.  He knows nothing of
our customs, and nearly stayed overlong."
     "Ah, that would have been a bad start here." his father said.
     "Yes, he is outside now.  Won't you bring him in, for it is cold
outside for him."
     "I will go out and seek him." his father assured him.
     Pavel dressed and wondered if he'd ever find out just why this odd
movement of bodies in the cold morning had occurred.  His sharing of
Pelen's bed wasn't a secret; so why, then, the need to stand naked in the
cold morning dew?