Blessed Be the Merciful
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 10
Henry's rules.
The post lunch Rest is for a minimum of one and a half hours, from one thirty approximately until three o'clock, approx. The rule is that we lie flat, obviously in bed. Peter knows that Henry and I like to talk about this and that, so he and Leon are left alone in their bed, whilst I lie next to Henry in his. Considering how early in the morning we meet Henry to do our sea bathing routine, and how tired we all are by nine thirty in the evening, the early afternoon rest is meant to be a time for reflection, reading if you want to, and a time when affirmations can be made…..a time for friendship to deepen and affection to be given perhaps. For Peter and Leon, I'm genuinely hoping that they find the means to express their obvious affection for each other. For Henry and I, it's a time for lessons to be given and learnt. The Rest is a once-a-day opportunity that is not to be missed. Interestingly, Henry said to me this very afternoon……
'I'm a grown-up Jamie, who is still growing up.' So I said…….
'I'm not an adult yet Henry, as you know, but I'm working on it. Maybe we can meet in the middle?'
'Do you mean that Jamie?'
'Yes I do mean that. Shall I go down on my knees and beg you?'
'Only if you say you will marry me someday?' A joke, I assume.
'Do we have to wait until we are married?' I reply, imagining us to be a young couple desperate to consummate our union, one with another, and impatient to taste the forbidden fruit.
Henry has clear blue eyes exactly like Peter, unsurprisingly. At this moment they look hazy and slightly blurred, but that's probably my emotionally impaired vision. Lying here, warm in Henry's arms, and excited at the prospect of doing my husband's bidding. I'm feeling deliciously fertile and submissive. I'm ready for him.
Henry lifts my body onto his, and my legs fall naturally either side of his. I wriggle myself into a position that I know will tease him, easing myself downwards until I can feel Henry knocking at the door. At this point it wouldn't take much to force that door open and for him to walk right in.
Rest time ends officially at three. At ten to, I leave Henry's bed. Both of us had slept for a half hour or so, which coincided with the hottest part of the day. This summer has already been deemed to be a 'good' summer, which means that we have seen long periods of sunshine through late July and early August and with it, quite high temperatures of up to eighty-five degrees for days on end. I pull my fingers from Henry's grasp as he attempts to keep me with him, as I'm curious as to how Peter and Leon are faring. Their rest time in their big bed coincides exactly with mine.
Already ajar, I push the boys' bedroom door forwards enough to silently pass through it and survey the dimmed room, curtains drawn but occasionally moving with the breeze, and with the faint sensation of seaside scented air passing from the open window into the sweet-smelling room, and Peter and Leon lying asleep, naked both, upon the broad white sheet. Both boys are completely uncovered. Leon lies nearest to the edge where I kneel. He's on his back, one leg drawn up and the other straightened. Peter lies with scarcely any space between them, his right hand resting on Leon's tummy, curving down, depressed by gravity, pelvic bones rising like two sharp peaks, his fulsome penis heavy and flaccid, resting like some stranded seal on his sun-denied flesh. Closer still I imagine the boy's perfume filling my nostrils. A testicle moves almost as it lives an independent life from its owner, large it is, resting well below the other. The sound of breathing is there in the silent room, calm, quiet and deeply satisfied. I wonder if I dare? I move closer still now, perhaps just two inches away from navana, my mouth open, tongue poised. I look down and see it grow, the cock head gradually emerging from the circle of the sheath of pale and translucent skin. A hand moves. Surely he can't be awake? The cock head emerges now, wide eyed and moist, the flow of blood pushing the sculpted form out from its hiding place. I glance sideways and see a head resting on its side on the pillow, and two dark eyes looking straight into mine. I look back at the focus of my enthralled attention and the slowly moving forms which are a miracle of creation. When I look back at Leon's face, his eyes are closed once again, but I know he's awake, and waiting.
I watch as Leon turns over to face Peter, presenting me with the perfect sight of the back of the boy's body, his knees bent sharply upwards, emphasising his compact and slender buttocks divided by deep shadow. Leon moves again and as the boy raises his knees still further, foetal now, the shape of that shadow has changed to allow a deeper insight that inspire words……..untouched, unsullied, innocent, untouchable, a locked door…….and thus far, forbidden fruit.
I imagine Leon standing naked before me, and his smiling face as he takes the key that hangs from the thin gold chain around his neck, and hands it to me.
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