Club London
Dec. 16th, 2004 12:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramos
From the hall window yesterday, 5:01 pm. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Entering a bathhouse one must accept the endless twilight. This time of year, it isn't much of a sacrifice. Time it with late afternoon and you don't miss anything.
Catching up with an acquaintance behind the bar, I hardly gave a thought to the young Arab sitting two stools down, but clearly he had noticed me and showed it later, when we entered the shower at the same time.
I couldn't refuse his attention. It's strange how my interest in younger men has risen dramatically upon reaching the age of 40. I always used to be drawn to older men; their confidence, I suppose. Knowing what they wanted. We crave what we do not have.
My own youth is leaching away. I'm entranced with the vigorous legs, the fervent lust, the erection that never goes down. I was captivated by the dark-eyed Iraqi youth, lustre of black metal cropped across his scalp, bare trace of shadow on lip and chin. The power flex of youth seducing the reticent older man.
The power that will not lie still. In the fall of rain and suds I reach out gingerly and take it in my hand. A window shopper who would not buy, wandering naively into a store where the floor staff know how to sell. High power tactics. I stand at an angle. A hand grazes the curve of my buttock and I sigh in pleasure. Nothing feels better than the storm of desire, a lover's fingers grasping the tender stem of whatever beauty I possess, the way I bloom at his touch.
My eyes closed in dreams, I bend, let him play like a child along the dark alley in twilight, autumn rain washing away dirt of neglected days. He presses, roaring warrior, but I keep the gates closed until later. I won't take him until his armour is complete, later in the room. Then he can charge all the way. I'll feel his helmet hit the roof.
Still in the shower I open my eyes.
There in the corner, another beast pokes a curious head from its burrow. The naturalist falls under this creature's spell, distracted momentarily from the big predator feasting behind.
