history with ranch dressing

squiggles dots and bars
sparkled his vision --
the ocean was so smooth,
so blue -- he was
seeing dots and lines and
little green flashes
of love
as he tried to photograph
his boyfriend.
he himself was standing on the beach,
and
his boyfriend was standing
in the water, up to his
knees. there was no
one else around except
for him and his boyfriend,
and
the smooth sultry expanse of
softly blue water.
his boyfriend was naked.
he was trying to photograph
his naked boyfriend, but
other than his boyfriend's
nice smooth cock,
and the reddish-brown thatch
of his boyfriend's soft damp pubic hair,
the sunlight reflecting on
the water was so
intense that all he could see
was lines, bars, dots,
specks, flashes of the
greenish-tinged light.
perhaps he was about
to pass out from
the delirium of joy.
his boyfriend looked
at him, said something
mellow and sexy.
he nearly fainted
as his boyfriend's
nipples turned even
pinker in the hot
summer sun, as his
boyfriend's reddish-pink
peehole
winked at him.
**
then, alas, he woke
up. lying there
naked and alone on his belly
in bed, he felt his
hard thick dick beneath him,
its tip pressing into
his navel.
he himself was beautiful,
just turned 22,
and his boyfriend
was,
was
where,
where exactly was that
sexy rascal?
oh.
right.
there was once a boyfriend,
but now there wasn't.
fights and flights.
things of that nature.
their day at the beach,
though, still
a wondermark in their
relationship.
back before
the souring.
**
the sexy 22-year-old young man
lying on his belly
on top of his hardon
in his bed
contracted the muscles
of his nice smooth butt and
thrust his hard hot dick against
the softness of the
smooth sheet that covered
his mattress, until
he spurted cum, and lay
there on top of the ooze, on
top of the
wet gloppy gooiness.
he thought he should
get out of bed now,
and face the day,
but
the memory of the blue
water, the specks and flashes
and dits and dots of love
and sex and beauty,
washed over him,
and left him lying there
on top of his own goo,
smelling the emptiness
of the pillow that
thrust itself into
his nostrils,
the salt water
wrapping itself
around his boyfriend's knees,
his boyfriend's cock
still stuck at attention,
acknowledging him with that
insolent salute.
**
eventually,
the sexy 22-year-old young
man got out
of bed,
walked naked into the
shower,
and
the pounding of the hot
water
on his skull was
the only thing
that saved him
from
dragging his knuckles
on the floor,
and
laying waste to another
can of frothy
bubble-oozing beer.


--Carl Miller Daniels (January 17, 2012)