Chapter 28
the twenty eighth chapter
AMOS
I wake in the dark.
A paper thin moon makes its slow descent.
I notice that the canopy of stars above us has begun to fade.
But I’ve captured it in ink. With one arm still outstretched, Marco sleeps.
A gentle warble threads through the trees.
Bet he’d know what kind of bird that is.
Curved against my body, he lays on his side.
The warmth of his back and hips is familiar and comforting.
This sleepy face I wake to most mornings, looks softer in the wild.
Leaning down to kiss the back of his neck, I pause, then choose to wait.
Let him rest, I decide. He needs sleep.
Who knows what this day will bring?
It crushes me that he often came to this river when he was lonely.
I ease the blanket higher to cover his shoulders.
You’re not alone anymore, I tell him. I’m right here.
And knowing that he loves me out loud, even though I could already feel it?
I can’t help but smile as I let the night take me again.
◆◆◆
The next time I wake, it’s almost dawn.
That hazy blue hour where the sky begins to soften to ash.
Marco is facing me, eyes closed, but awake enough to reach for me.
“I wanted to let you sleep,” he says, offering a gentle morning kiss.
Two somnolent souls reconnect.
A chorus of birdsong stirs around us.
I open my mouth to ask, but someone reads my mind.
“Grey shrike thrush,” he whispers. “Pied butcherbird.”
“What about the one with the high pitched whistle?”
“Sounds like a peewee,” he says.
He sits up, pausing to concentrate.
“Who else can I hear? A honeyeater, I think.”
A small cloud of winged creatures return to their tree across the water.
“What kind of birds are they?”
“Those are bats,” he grins. “They’ve been out on a bender.”
I smile bashfully.
“And who's this cutie outside our tent? The one with the wild mohawk?”
“A crested bellbird,” he smiles. “That's how your hair looks most mornings.”
It’s true, I can’t deny it.
“Before or after I have my way with you?”
“I forget,” he smirks. “Refresh my memory.”
With a birthday fuck?
Say no more…
I straddle him, raising his arms above his head.
He submits.
I’m gonna flood this man’s body with as much serotonin as possible.
I really want to make him feel good before he deals with heavy shadows.
◆◆◆
“I need to tell you something about this river,” he mentions coyly.
“Oh?”
“Come closer…”
I lower my ear to his mouth.
“This is where I had my first orgasm.”
“Here, by the river?”
The thought of him playing solo always makes me hard.
And these past few months he’s taught me that I have a little fetish for the outdoors.
“Most of the time I just needed somewhere to escape. But this is also where I’d come when I… came.”
I’m already unbuttoning his pajama pants.
I’m not shy about where my hand ventures.
“Continue,” I implore. “I like this story.”
Marco is shy all of a sudden.
“Tell me…” I whisper. “Tell me while I tease you.”
“I started waking with a stiffy,” he reveals. “Like most teenage boys, I guess. I'd wander across the bridge at dawn, or sometimes late at night. You know, whenever I was feeling…” “Feeling what?”
I tighten my grip as I stroke him.
“Horny as hell,” he gasps.
Oooh, I’ve got him all flustered.
“And then I'd... you know.”
“Say it.”
Shuffling under the blanket, my mouth crowns the head.
His breath shallows, words spilling out all at once.
“I'd lean back against that tree, around the side there… where no one could see me. Dick in my hand, pants around my ankles. Fuck, it felt good.”
“Like this?” I suggest.
I take him in a little deeper.
My thumb and fingers create gentle friction below my lips each time I reach the tip.
“Ohhh… fuck you,” he groans.
Fuck you harder.
I know your body well.
With an arch of his hips, he tries to slow the rhythm.
He wants it so bad.
When I come up for air, he’s almost drunk on pleasure.
His head sinks back against the pillow as I kiss along his collarbone.
And I keep going with my hand.
No rest for the wicked.
I speak low in his ear.
“What would you think about, when you felt that cum spill?”
Marco's reply is hushed, as though he might get in trouble.
“Having a thick, slippery cock in my ass.”
“Yeah?” I whisper. “That's so naughty.”
Our eyes lock for a moment, his body nearing the verge of desire.
“Amos…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Take me to the tree.”
◆◆◆
Barefoot with pants askew, we stagger out of the tent.
Sunlight skims the horizon, but the river runs dark beside us.
Naked back against the smooth base of the trunk, he slides his pajamas down.
I remove them completely, hanging them on a branch next to mine.
“Thick and slippery?” I flirt.
“You know how I like it.”
“Then first, let me finish what I started.”
I kneel at his feet, mouth hungry for more.
He’s already so close to the brink, it doesn’t take long.
And when he creams, I scoop it with my hand.
Coating my dick, I make it wet.
With a few flicks of my wrist, I’m ready.
Lifting Marco higher, I curl my arms beneath his thighs.
Easing inside him, my buttocks tighten with each thrust.
From this angle I can fill him so deep.
He grips my shoulders.
His moan grows hungry and feral.
“Show me no mercy,” he begs.
Our threshold, cast to the side.
“As you wish.”
We writhe against the tree, dawn cresting over his shoulder.
A moment of relentless passion.
Pure indulgence.
I worship his body with every inch of mine.
The tilt of his hips gives the most delicious satisfaction.
“Ahhh... ahhh…”
It hits us in waves, our bodies moving as one.
“Amos…” he whimpers.
“Mmm?”
“When you reach the edge… I want you to finish inside me.”
He doesn’t usually allow this.
But after last night’s confession, our intimacy knows no bounds.
Pleasure washes over us in layers.
Bodies merging, we melt into each kiss.
I slow it down to savour every minute.
Then at last we surrender, warmth flowing between us.
And I cry out in elation, uttering those three precious words.
◆◆◆
Sunrise illuminates the sky in vibrant pinks and yellows.
I cradle him for a while before he lowers his legs to stand.
Back at the tent, he heats some water over the fire.
When it cools a fraction, I soak our hand towels in it.
We wash each other's bodies, keeping his inked wrist dry.
Slow sensual strokes are peppered with kisses.
Steam rises from the cloth, warm and wet between our legs.
Post orgasmic bliss heightens the sensation, soft friction arousing us both.
I know what he’s craving.
How could I ever resist that look?
Marco leads me further into the grove.
And we fuck.
And we fuck.
And… we… fuck.
Insatiable hunger.
Unfathomable need.
◆◆◆
Freshly clothed, he stokes the embers.
“So what’s this surprise you were telling me about?”
I unearth a crate from inside the ute and set it next to his chair.
“You mentioned chocolate chip pancakes the other day. So I thought I’d make some.”
I lay everything I need on a towel.
“You even brought cloth napkins?” he laughs.
“Of course,” I smile. “Bush tucker with a city boy twist.”
Whipping the ingredients in a bowl, I toss in an extra scoop of chocolate.
I ladle the mixture into a hot skillet.
Holding it over the flames, we wait for each pancake to form bubbles.
Flipping them from side to side, I add a smidge of butter for a golden hue.
“I’m feeling very spoiled today,” Marco beams.
“As you should.”
I lean down for a kiss, frying pan still in my hand.
“And what’s my other birthday surprise?”
“Open my phone, and you’ll see.”
Arranging our pancakes into stacks, I drizzle them with a generous squeeze of syrup.
“Okay, it’s open.”
He holds my phone in his lap.
“Now go to files,” I instruct. “And find a PDF called October Eleventh. Tap on it.”
Marco taps.
I hear a soft inhale.
“Dark Sky Eco Retreat?”
The delight on his face is everything to me.
He sits on the edge of his chair.
“The one near Siding Spring Observatory?”
“Uh huh. We’re booked for three nights. And there’s a new moon.”
“You really…”
He hugs me so fiercely that the pancakes nearly slide onto the ground.
“Whoa, almost lost them,” I laugh.
“Warrumbungle has been on my dream list for years.”
“I hear their telescope makes all others look the length of a pinky finger.”
“Star nerd,” he grins.
“If I am, you’re entirely at fault.”
I hand him a plate and a fork.
“Now sit, birthday boy. Your feast awaits.”
◆◆◆
Plates licked clean, we cosy up next to the fire.
Marco has grown rather quiet since finishing his breakfast.
“All good?”
A restless sigh suggests otherwise.
“I was. Until I remembered.”
“We don’t owe anyone a visit,” I tell him. “We can go straight to Beth’s.”
“I know. But… it’s not just him. It’s her.”
I take his hand in mine.
“If you need longer to decide, we can stay another night.”
“You’d brave the possums for me?”
“In a heartbeat,” I reply.
“But Beth’s expecting us for dinner,” he says.
“I could call her on the pay phone. Jundah has one, right?”
“They do.”
“And you can stay right here. No one will see you.”
We sit in silence for a while.
Then Marco speaks again.
“What if we just drive past the house? I feel like I should try.”
“We could do that,” I nod.
My mind drifts to yesterday.
The roadside. Marco’s panic attack.
The stormy night in the shower.
I saw the fear in his eyes, long before I knew what it was about.
I know this isn’t easy for him.
“If we don’t try, I’ll always wonder,” he says.
And with that, he begins dampening the fire.
“I’ll pack up the tent,” I offer.
Bags loaded into the truck.
Bed deflated and folded.
Tent swept and collapsed, we roll it into the bag together.
“Want a photo before we go?” I ask.
We lean in, backs toward the river, our naughty tree framing us on one side.
Then I take eight or nine pictures, because my man likes options.
“I forgot to show you something.”
I thumb through my screen to find it.
The photo from yesterday.
Sunset and silhouetted trees.
Marco standing next to the river.
His kangaroo friends huddled on the other side.
A reunion of sorts.
“We could get it printed and framed?”
“This means more than you know. It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“Now you can carry the stars and the river home with you.”
I trace a finger across his wrist.
“Love you,” he whispers.
I mouth it back to him.
God, we’re soppy.
But I’m smitten.
We pluck a few leaves from his tree to carry home with us.
Seatbelts fastened.
One last kiss.
Then the truck edges toward town.