Chapter 26 #2
I peel back Milo’s cheeks and dive in. He tastes fresh and stale and human.
And I delight in this wonderful line men love to cross, where a honey hole becomes a place of worship.
And like any religious high, this act creates gods.
A heightened plane where gay guys are invincible, discovering their own natural order.
I poke my tongue deeper, keen to sample pungent flavours. And there’s nothing manlier than the spices I’m savouring.
“Fingers,” Milo whimpers. “Please.”
I wave my hand, instantly drenching my fingers with lube.
I poke two fingers in, soon adding a third.
Milo writhes with ease, suspended in space.
He pushes back as far as he can and I know the pleasure my partner is experiencing.
A totally relaxed, titillation around the sphincter which also quivers inside.
I massage within, caressing that spot. Milo groans, watching planets and stars through the window until he turns his head back, giving me a look of yearning. His hole has loosened. I understand what’s expected. Milo slides off my fingers, and I smother my own cock, making it nice and slippery.
He turns his body to face me, then raises his ankles and lunges arse first onto my erection. His legs wrap around my back, causing a thrust which forces me deeper.
I love the way my cock feels in this sacred men’s space, and I read each poke and grind on Milo’s face, seeing what makes him smile and what makes him gasp.
We quicken the pace. I hold onto his hips so he can bounce without being catapulted off. And as Milo strokes his own dick, I wish there was some way it could be back in my mouth again, so both our loads could have warm places to shoot.
Milo fires. His stringy cum floats. I clasp some of it even though I’m not sure why. It’s just instinct. I rub it between my fingers, taste it, and wipe it across my chest. And I see in Milo’s expression the pleasure of feeling my knob expand and the ejaculate fill him inside.
He tilts back his head, letting his arms swing idly. He’s in no hurry to remove my cock and I know in this zero-gravity fantasy, my own white juice will sail past once I pull out.
I do eject, and the result of our love writhes past like an albino snake. Is this some occult sign? Some bizarre omen a wizard should take heed of?
I chuckle at my absurd musings. And Milo gives me a look of recognition, as if this whole warlock ordeal also gives him weird thoughts.
But we both know, love is where the real magic lies.
––––––––
I sit on my lounge, showered and fresh, psyching myself up because I’m sure what he never said before is about to be shared.
Milo is preparing hot chocolate in my kitchen, keen to reward me for an out of this world experience. He dips the tip of his pinkie into the saucepan of milk on the stove. He nods then pours it into mugs of cocoa already dissolved in a dash of water.
“Grayson, I have something to tell you.”
“I know.”
He pauses, briefly. “I met Tania.”
“You met my mum!”
He hands me my cocoa. “Drink.”
“But how did you—”
“Drink.”
“But you met my mum—”
“I said drink.”
I reluctantly sip.
Milo sits, puts his chocolate on the coffee table, then places his hand on my thigh. “You know how I told you Summer’s ghost visited me.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, your mum’s ghost also visited me.”
“What did she have to say for herself?”
“Grayson, do you have an affinity with water?”
“Milo, this is no time to speak in riddles.”
“Your mum also had sneezy magical mishaps. She kept turning you into a fish. And not just the same fish.”
“Why don’t I remember?”
“Because fish have short memories.”
I’m lost for words. And the more I wrap my head around this concept, the more I compare her wayward spells to mine. Mum is just like me.
“What about my sister? What did Mum turn her into?”
“Nothing. It was always you, Grayson. And always a fish.”
“In a tank?”
Milo shakes his head. “Nope. You’d be suffocating on the floor, and as she wanted you to make it past your teen years, she had to keep you away from her.”
“Where was Maude?”
“Maude found out too late. You’d been kicked out of home already.”
“What did Mum look like?” I always loved her eccentric fashion.
“Striped shirt. Red bower. Pink pants. White shoes.”
“That’s definitely Mum.”
After all these years she wants to connect, from the grave. And I have so many questions, but at least I now have some answers.
Fish? I kept turning into a fish? What is this thing about our sneezes conjuring creatures?
I gaze at Milo drinking his chocolate. Mum visited him first. She trusted him to break the ice. Mum approves of Milo.
“If this has become all too much for you, Milo, I understand.”
He beams. “I love you, Grayson, and I’m ready for this wild adventure.”
“Of love? I guess love is a wild adventure.”
“No. Of crazy space shuttle sex and restaurant quality buffets that appear out of nowhere. And odd 1920s nightclubs and whatever else being in love with you brings.”
And he means it.
“You know,” I begin, “when I first entered the magic realm, everything was surreal. That gay club seemed very normal compared to my first visit. All of this is like being on the holodeck. You never know what’s in store.”
Milo smirks, and I’m sure I understand why.
“Yes, Milo. I know your notification sound is from Star Trek.”
“One more reason we were made for each other.”
As if on cue, Captain Picard’s voice tells him to check his phone. But Milo stays put. And I’m glad the digital realm has lost its significance.