Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2013 23:43:06 +0200
From: Charles Thomas <charles.thomas.oak@gmail.com>
Subject: Resurrection Part I

Resurrection

Part I

I woke up cold. In fact, that's what woke me up, was the cold.  I was
numb at first, couldn't feel anything but that bone chilling,
penetrating cold.  At first, even when I opened my eyes, I thought I
could not see, that I was blind.  But then I began to think that it
wasn't that I was blind but that it was pitch black where I was.

Soon enough, besides the cold, I could feel the hard ground beneath
my naked body.  I was curled up on my left side and I could feel the
bitingly cold rock against my skin, bruising my hip bone.  I reached
down with my right hand, which had been resting on my hip, and
touched the stone I was lying on.  It was smooth, cold, and
definitely rock with a few tiny grains of sand, here and there.

I turned my head to look up, but still could see nothing.  I raised
my hand to my face, or thought I did, but couldn't see it.
Eventually I rolled onto my back, but the cold was too much.  I had
to move.

Sitting up I began finally to think back, to try to piece it
together.  Where was I, I wondered.  What had happened to make me end
up in this dark place, lying naked on a rock floor?

But nothing came to mind.  I searched my memory and found nothing
that would indicate a reason for this.  The very last clear memory I
had was standing at a barbecue cooking up hamburgers and laughing
with friends.  Friends whose names I couldn't remember.  A wife
there, whose name I couldn't remember.

I sat up slowly, waving my hand above me and in front of me, to make
sure I didn't sit up into anything I couldn't see.  After a moment I
decided to stand, but it was a struggle.  I was cold and stiff and my
usual balance was off, but I got to my feet, waving my arms around
for balance and to check for a low ceiling.  Soon I was standing, my
legs wide, shivering.  That's when I heard the voice.

"You are cold," it said.  It, I tell you, but it was a man's voice.
A soft, but strong man's voice.  Almost soothing.

"Who is that?" I croaked.

There was a pause and I began to think I hadn't heard the voice at
all.

"A friend," the voice said.  Instantly the temperature surrounding me
warmed.

"I can't see," I said.  My voice was scratchy, felt unused and
foreign.

As I blinked, gazing around me, the darkness began to lighten
slightly.

"We must preserve your eyes," the voice told me.  "They're sensitive
for now.  How do you feel?"

The light was a bit painful.  Even though it was dim I squinted,
looking around.  I was in what looked like a cave, but not a natural
cave, more like a carved out space like a mine.  To one side was a
shelf that almost looked like a bench, or bed, otherwise the cave was
empty and featureless.  I looked up.  The ceiling was as smooth as
the floor, as were the walls.  The cave, which I thought of as a room
now because it was clearly man made, was square and the corners were
slightly rounded. I stood directly in the center.

"Who are you?" I asked weakly.

"Do you know who you are?" the voice asked instantly.

I shook my head, but then nodded.  "Soldier," I said.  "I...I'm a
soldier."

Another long pause.

"What is...soldier?" the voice asked.

I shook my head in confusion.  "You...I don't get it, what's your
question?  You don't know what a soldier is?"

The pause was longer this time.  "You should sleep," the voice said
soothingly.

I instantly felt tired.  I staggered weakly over to the shelf or bed
or whatever it was and sat down.  It felt strangely soft, even though
it looked like rock.  I lay down and as soon as my head touched the
now warm and soft stone I slept.

And I dreamt.  I had a dream I had had before.  There was a time,
when I was younger, when I would sneak into my older sister's room
and pull out the catalogues she had hidden under her bed, catalogues
of men's underwear, and some Playgirl magazines as well.  And I would
fantasize about those men, just pure sexy fantasies about touching
them and them touching me.

That night I dreamt of one of those male models, one of them that I
had always really been drawn to.  We were swimming nude together, in
a warm pool on a hillside overlooking Los Angeles.  I was chasing him
in the water, always nearly catching him.  My cock was hard as a
rock.  I wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against mine, but
I knew that as soon as I did feel his skin against mine I would want
more, much more.

I finally caught him in my dream.  We were in water to my chest and
as he swam by, I caught him up and pulled him close.  I'm not a small
man, by any stretch of the imagination.  A little over six feet and
powerfully built, I easily snatched him to me when I caught him. He
was only of average height, slim but muscular, and he struggled, but
I wrapped my strong arms around him and held him tight.  His sizable
dick pressed against my chest as he pushed against my shoulders with
all his might.  I looked up and he was laughing down at me, a lovely,
enticing sound and sight.

My arms were across his lower back and I slid one hand down to his
tight little butt. I felt him spread his legs as his expression went
from laughing to lustful in a second.  My hand ventured down to cup
his large balls from behind.  I wanted him to explode in my mouth, to
feel his juice shooting onto my tongue and down my throat.  I was
growling, I think.  Animalistic.  I shifted my hands to both his hips
and lifted him up so I could get to his cock.  It sprang away from my
chest as I vaulted him up and my mouth caught it.  I felt it slide
in, over my tongue, hot and hard.

And that's what my dream was.  Me, gripping his ass and hips, fucking
my own mouth with his big dick until he cried out in ecstasy and shot
his hot, creamy load down my eager throat.

********

I woke up, this time, comfortable.  I was lying on the rock shelf,
which felt like a very firm bed.  The light was still dim, but not as
dim as it had been earlier, before I had fallen asleep.  I sat up and
looked around and then my heart skipped a beat.

Standing to one side, staring at me, was a young man.  He was still,
preternaturally still, but when he saw me look at him he seemed to
awaken himself and his eyes intensified.  I took a deep breath.  He
was what I would have always considered ideal.  Medium height, built
like an athlete, muscular and fit with long legs, a washboard
stomach, broad shoulders and chest. I imagined his butt was small and
round and taut.  He looked like the male underwear model of my dream,
but even better.  Like a combination of all the best parts of those
nude models and underwear models in my sister's magazines.

And he was naked.  And he was hung.  His dick arched away from his
body, swaying in a half-erect state. His balls were large and hung
low.

I saw his eyes widened and I looked away.  He took a step forward and
stopped.  I looked up at him, guessing he was the owner of the voice
I had heard.

"You gonna tell me who you are?"

He smiled, a beautiful smile and I looked away again.  I had an
instantaneous fantasy, one of those quick visions: me on my back, his
mouth on my dick, his dick in my mouth.  Then it switched, to me
kissing that mouth, our bodies held tight against each other.

I heard a sigh and looked at him.  My mouth opened at what I saw.  He
was standing with his arms wrapped around himself, his head thrown
back and that beautiful smile still spread across his equally
beautiful face.  His cock was fully erect, a thick pole sticking
straight up at a good 9 or 10 inches.

"Sweet Jesus, man..." I said, stopping as he looked at me suddenly. I
cleared my throat.  "You're making me uncomfortable."

He cocked his head.  "I am?"  He paused, going completely still as if
all life had left his body and he looked like a manikin that had been
left there with a hard, plastic dick attached to it.  "No," he said.
"I feel excitement."

"That's obvious," I said.  I licked my lips and tried to change the
subject.  "Where am I?"

"Now I feel discomfort," his soft voice purred.  "I'm sorry.  I'm
realizing many things, learning at a tremendous rate.  Learning more
than I could ever have imagined."

I sat still as he walked toward me.

"You are three," he said.  "You are soldier, you are husband, you
also have a secret side and this you are ashamed of, the side the
other two don't know about."

"What are you talking about?"  I was becoming scared.  My mind was
racing.  In all my training as a soldier I had never been faced with
a scenario where my interrogator was a very handsome, nude, fully
erect Greek god type who seemed to know my inner desires and kinky,
bisexual dreams.

"I am not an interrogator," he said and I jumped at his choice of
words.  Had he read my mind?  He did his strange pause again and then
snapped out of it.  "This is not a prison, or a war in which you have
been taken prisoner.  You have been resurrected."

I glanced around, wondering how he got in to this doorless,
windowless room.

"Yes," he said then.

"What?"

"Yes, I can read your mind," he said.  "Or, I could put it a
different way, I suppose, but that would take us down a long road of
discussion and explanation you are not ready for."

"Okay, well, let's just try this one more time," I said.  "There's
really only one thing I want to know, right now.  Who are you and why
do you have me held here?"

He smiled.  "I am what you have imagined," he said.  "Last night, in
your dream, this form was there in a way...other things were there,
in your mind while you slept.  Bad things, certainly.  But, I chose
this form to come to you because it pleased you."

"Not much of an answer," I said.  I suddenly felt sleepy.  He reached
out and touched my chest.

"You are as you were," he said, his soft voice seeming to hypnotize
me.  "Strong, resilient.  Soldier."  His hand pushed me down onto the
soft shelf.  I lay down without resistance.  His hand was soft on my
chest.  I looked down and saw it caress my pectoral muscle then slide
down my belly.

"Goddammit," I groaned.  All I could think of was the cameras they
surely had on me, watching me as my prick sprang to life while this
bastard seduced me.  I could imagine the video on Youtube:
"Imprisoned Soldier gay sex with captors!"  Surely that isn't covered
in the Code of Conduct!

"No," he said.  His hand stopped just short of my pubic hair, pausing
on my lower belly. "There are no cameras.  There is no public to
judge you.  Please..."  He did one of his short, strange pauses again
and then snapped out of it.  "The pleasure you feel, while I'm in
this body, and the pleasure I feel is immeasurable. It is foreign to
me.  It is pure. I want to be one with you and feel it, all of it."

I lay there, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes.  He smiled at me
and I heard, not out loud, but actually in my mind, his voice saying,
soothingly, "The world that judges you is no more."  He then leaned
forward and  his full lips touched mine.  At the same time his hand
slid down to wrap around my thick cock.  As our kiss deepened my cock
became even more swollen and I heard him moan against my lips.

"Such pleasure," he whispered against my mouth.  My tongue plunged
into his mouth and I reached down to the real object of my desire,
feeling his erection standing tall and powerful.  I pulled at it,
marveling at how long and thick it was.

"Oh god," I said.  He pulled back and looked down at me, curious.

"What is...god?"

"What the fuck.  Can't you read my goddam mind and figure it out?"

I was making a joke of it, or trying to in the strangeness of it all.
 My hand still tugged at his huge cock and he still tugged at mine,
even as he paused to think about it.

"No," he said.  "It is a...complicated, ephemeral subject in your
mind.  Many names, many guises--"

I put my finger up to his lips.  "Listen," I said, "I don't know
exactly what's going on here, but why don't we just enjoy this and
stop thinking so hard?"

He nodded. Without another word he bent down and took my fat prick
into his mouth.  I lifted my hips and spread my thighs. His one hand
stayed on my chest while the other cupped my tight balls.  If there
was one thing this guy could do it was suck cock.  He sucked cock
like some of the gay porn I had sneaked online while my wife wasn't
watching.  I didn't even think that he had probably come up with the
technique perusing my memories, but later I realized that's exactly
what he had done.

Regardless, it felt good.  I reached around to his ass, as he bent
over my bed, and cupped his perfect roundness.  I really, really
wanted to fuck him.  Before I could even finish the thought and how
I'd like him to climb atop me, he pulled away from my wet prick and
climbed up, straddling my lap.  Reaching down with one hand he pulled
my boner up as he sat down on it.  For a moment I wanted to stop him,
thinking about lube.  No one wants to fuck a dry hole.  But he only
paused for a moment and when my dick pushed into his anus it was
slick with lube already.

"Holy fuck that feels good," I gasped.  He threw his head back in
ecstasy as he rode me.  I gripped his hard cock, stroking it as he
slid up and down me, my other hand fondling his balls.  I stared up
at him, gazing at his incredible male beauty, his perfection, the
rippling muscles, the fine sheen of sweat over his smooth skin, the
light blonde hair around that amazing shaft.  I noticed his head
swelling, broadening, even as I felt my own cock beginning to tingle.

I bucked up into him and as I felt the first shock of orgasm he cried out
and his own prick jolted in my hand.  A hot stream of cum shot from the tip
of his cock, arching through the air to hit my wide open mouth with
unerring aim.  I tasted it's tanginess as another surge from his prick
exploded, shooting yet another stream out and into my mouth.  After two
more shots my belly, chest, chin and more importantly mouth, were covered
in his cum, even as my own prick had filled him with my juice.

I lay gasping, looking up at him.  His eyes were alive, intense.  He leaned
forward and kissed me, tasting his own cum.

"My god," he said, breathing hard against my mouth as we kissed the
sloppiest kiss you could.  I laughed.

"What is god?" I asked.  He sat back up erect and smiled down at me.

"We will discuss this later, yes?  I can not grasp some ideas without the
definitions, the clear definitions.  Images, yes, but not ideas like this
god."

"Okay," I said.  "Later." I was exhausted.  He climbed off me and my cock
felt to my belly, flaccid and used, slick with the mystery lube.  I closed
my eyes and fell asleep, and this time I didn't dream at all.