Finally, they parted and lay back against the ground and Simon looked up at the sky. “I think we need to leave or we’ll be caught after dark on the mountain and we really didn’t come prepared to spend the night. We’ll have just enough daylight to make it back to the Jeep. I’m afraid I lost track of time.”
Reluctant to end the idyll, Andre slowly pulled away. “I hate it to end. You’ve given me something—taught me something about myself.”
Simon looked at him with a sadness in his eyes. “Once we leave the mountain, you’ll begin to have second thoughts. It’s going to seem to you like it shouldn’t have happened no matter how beautiful it is right now. And you’re going to not want to see me again.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Andre admitted. “Right now it seems right, everything, for once in my life, seems right with the world. But I know when I get back to the city, things will change. But inside, I don’t see how I can.”
Simon’s smile was sad, his eyes holding a wisdom of past knowledge and understanding. He stroked the side of Andre’s face. “It’s the way it works. You’re going to need time to think about things. I want you to know I understand that. I don’t want you to come to me until you’re sure I’m what you want—that this is what you want. It won’t be an easy decision for you to make.” He again leaned forward and kissed Andre passionately, branding him with his taste. Then he pulled away. “But as far as I’m concerned you’re worth waiting for. So when we leave here, take your time, and be sure you really want this. I’ve been in — well, let’s just say enough relationships over the years, I won’t lie to you about that. Just as you’ve had your share of women, I presume. I want you, Andre, more than you can imagine, and I think you want me—on more than just a sexual level. But whether you can live with knowing that is something only you can answer. I’m not after a one-night stand, I want more. But you have to decide if you want it as well.”
CHAPTER SIX
Andre remembered that perfect afternoon in the meadow with such clarity and pleasure, that hadn’t changed, no matter how he tried to deny what it meant for him. But Simon had been right. When he’d returned to the city—to his apartment—he’d immediately begun to question what had occurred in the meadow—not that he hadn’t enjoyed every minute of it, but what it revealed about Andre, how it could change the person he’d always thought he was.
A week after the incident, he’d received a package in the mail from Simon. It had been the lighter with the butterfly etched into the side, his business card, and a boldly written note on the back of the card. You have a butterfly’s soul, Andre, beautiful and fragile. I await the day you set it free to live the way it is meant to live. Come to me when you’re ready.
Andre had immediately run as fast and far as he could to try to forget the only perfect day in his life. At night, in his dreams, his body would come to life with the memories of the meadow and his thoughts and senses would fill with the pleasure he’d experienced. And then he would wake up.
Six months he’d spent in South America, fucking his way from one end to the other, trying to forget. Until one night, he’d encountered a beautiful young prostitute, and he’d known it was time to come home.
Tonight had been one last futile attempt to fight the need gnawing at him inside, until there was just no place else to run and he had to turn and face who he was and what and whom he needed in his life. Everything was so empty without Simon, more so than it had been before that afternoon of delight.
“Who is it?” a deep, familiar voice came across the intercom of the Morgantown Apartment Complex.
What would Simon say when he realized who it was after so many long months of absence without a word.
“It’s me, Simon. Andre Cordaire.” Andre waited. Maybe he wasn’t alone? After all, Andre had left Simon waiting for more than six months without any word at all. And now he just showed up on Simon’s doorstep.
“Just a moment, Andre.” A short time later the buzzer sounded and the inner door opened. Andre stepped through, his heart pounding. What would Simon think of him?
The only thing Andrew knew was that he wanted Simon. Through everything he’d done since that afternoon, it was the one clear thought in his mind. In any of the mindless relationships he’d had over the ensuing months, it had been the memory of that afternoon alone that had allowed Andrew any sort of release. He’d felt like a man pushed out in a rowboat without a set of oars or motor, drifting aimlessly, without direction.
He rode up in the elevator to the fourth floor. Slowly he navigated the corridor to reach Simon’s door. He hesitated, and then knocked, thrusting his hands in his pockets as he waited for Simon to answer.
When the door finally opened, all Andre could do was stare and drink in the image of the man he—loved. And he could no longer turn away from that knowledge because it had followed him to hell and back, never leaving him an instant of peace.
“Hello, Simon.” He stood there, waiting, hoping for an invitation to enter—an opportunity to feel warm again.
Simon stepped back. “Come in. It’s been a long time. I’m glad you came.”
Andre stepped inside the apartment and Simon closed the door. He turned to face him, his gaze rising to meet Simon’s.
“I’ve been to South America—I just got back.”
Simon broke the contact and turned away. “Come into the living room and you can tell me all about it.”
Andre followed him inside, shrugged out of his jacket and sat on the edge of the brown sofa. “I had a lot of thinking to do,” he admitted.
Simon nodded as he sat down in an overstuffed side chair. “I thought you might.”
Andre raised his eyes to Simon’s. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
“I told you to take what time you needed. Whatever your decision, I want you to be sure.”
They sat and stared at each other for long moments. Andre felt the hunger grow inside him, wanted to experience again what they had in the meadow that long ago day. He found himself rising from the sofa.
“I’ve missed you.”
Simon slowly rose from his chair. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Steps brought them together, lips found and clung, arms snatching across the distance of time, pulling and consuming.
Andre felt the energy engulf him, the warmth radiate through him at Simon’s touch, like the earth opening up to the heat of the sun after a harsh winter frost.
“I want to fuck you,” he gasped. “I need to feel you, to connect. I haven’t connected with anyone for so long. All I could think of was you. All I wanted was you, no matter who I was with.”
Simon broke the kiss and looked at him. “Are you sure?”
“Damn right I am. I’ve thought about this every which to I could, rolled over in my mind again and again. All roads lead to…you. Only you.”
Simon smiled. “It’s not going to be easy, you know that.”
Andre slowly began to unbutton his shirt. “I’ve been with women while I was gone. I’ve been inside their soft body, tasted their fragrance on my tongue—experienced everything I could with a woman and still was alone, as though someone else experienced making love to them and it wasn’t me. I had to think of you in order to get hard enough to pleasure them—to gain any pleasure from the encounter.”
Simon helped him remove his shirt and then reached to unbuckle his belt. “I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you. I knew early on I was more attracted to a man’s body and thoughts than to that of a woman. It isn’t that I hate women, I just can’t bond with them in the same way I am drawn to a man. But I knew for you, it would take time. You never knew, did you? Never even thought you might need something different than was expected?”
Andre shook his head. “I’d still be in South America but for one incident.” He toed off his shoes and then pushed his trousers and underwear down, stepping out of them. “I was in a cantina and there was a young man there. He was beautiful. His shirt was partly open revealing his bronze
d chest and there was a butterfly tattoo right at the center. It all happened so fast.” His eyes bore into Simon’s. He had to tell him this, Simon had to know it all. “He was a prostitute and I paid him. I fucked him because I needed to see if it would be the same—if all we’d really had in that meadow was just good sex in the moment. He was good, I’ll give you that. I’d never fucked a man. Even you fucked me, but this time, I took him. It wasn’t love, it was pure and primal fucking. But it wasn’t until I looked at his chest as I drove into him, looked at the butterfly and remembered. I enjoyed fucking him, Simon. I liked the feel of him beneath him, I liked the look of him, and I liked his hands on me. But I didn’t love him, I didn’t connect with him. And I wanted more.”
His gaze shifted away from Simon, unable to look at him any longer. Simon cupped his face. “You had to find out. I understand that.” He leaned forward and kissed him.
“The next day I caught a flight home. Even then, I couldn’t accept it.” He turned back to look at Simon. “I slept with a woman before coming here tonight. It was only then that I realized I just couldn’t deny it any longer.”
Simon shrugged out of his own clothes. Andre was finding it difficult to concentrate as Simon’s hands were now on his body, tweaking his nipples into full, pointed erection. “Tell me what you can’t deny.”
Andre’s breath caught in his chest. To admit it out loud—there’d be no going back. His gaze met Simon’s. “I’m in love with you, Simon. I’ve never been in love before, so maybe that’s the reason it took me longer to figure out what was going on with me.”
“What else?” Simon’s hands were moving lower, resting at Andre’s hips, pulling him closer. His cock brushed against Andre’s and a surge of pleasure passed through Andre.
“Yes,” he whispered as he thrust his hip forward.
Simon’s hands stilled his movements. “What else?” he demanded, his gaze firm, demanding the rest.
Andre sighed. “I’m a man who desires the love of another man, not a woman, to make me whole. And you’re the man. You’re who I dream about, who I fantasize about, and who I want as a partner in my life. It’s about someone who understands me, who touches my heart, and frees my soul.”
Simon smiled. “I love you, too, Andre, and I told you I’d wait. The most important things in life are worth waiting for. You get to be my age and you learn that.”
Andre couldn’t wait another minute, he had to have this man, be inside him and know they were melded as one being in all ways that mattered.
He surged forward, claiming Simon’s lips with a hard, demanding kiss, thrusting his tongue deep inside—this time the aggressor, not simply accepting, but being a full participant in the loving.
He pushed Simon back onto the sofa and pressed over him, separating his legs, his hand going to his cock, stroking him to erection. He sucked on two of his fingers, making them wet, and then slid them into Simon’s rectum, thrusting deep.
“I’m going to fuck you, Simon. I want to feel you come apart for me, the way you made me feel in the meadow.
He pulled away and reached down for his pants with his other hand and pulled out two condoms and set them on the table.
Simon groaned and thrust his hips against Andre’s invasion. “Yes, do it,” he gasped. “Harder. Deeper.”
Andre reached out and grasped Simon’s hot dick in his hand, stroking him, feeling the wet, pre-cum against his fingers. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes,” Simon growled.
Andre sat up and picked up one of the packets and slowly rolled it over Simon’s thick cock. Quickly, he did the same with the second one. Then he moved over Simon. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Simon’s passionate gaze bore into him. Turquoise dark like the Mediterranean at midnight. Andre positioned his cock and pushed inward. A wash of pleasure spread through him, as he sank deeper into the man he loved.
“You feel damn good. So good. You’ve got a great ass, Simon. And it’s all mine.” He surged forward, settling himself deep inside, enjoying the pleasure of being surrounded by the intense heat of this man. “Oh, God, you feel too damn good.”
With his other hand he stroked Simon’s cock without moving inside him. “I want you to come, Simon.”
Simon’s hard body ground against him, urging Andre to move. Simon’s cock hardened even more, the purplish engorged head eager to orgasm, the veins visible and pulsing with life, and then Andrew began moving in and out, his balls slapping at Simon’s ass. Hot, deep rhythm as he thrust in and out and his hand worked Simon’s tool. He wanted Simon to come like he’d never come with anyone before, to give him as much pleasure and intimacy as Simon had shown him could occur between two men who loved each other.
Their bodies pumped and slammed together. Simon reached for him and Andre saw the primal lust that had him by the balls. He rammed hard, pulled out and did it again. Simon raised his legs to encircle Andre’s hips and his strength pulled Andre close as they both exploded with spasm after spasm of hot liquid, release.
“Oh, God,” Andre groaned, feeling the spasming of his own cock, deep inside Simon. His grip on Simon’s pulsing cock filled him with intense pleasure as he felt his powerful climax overtake him. Finally, he collapsed into Simon’s arms and they both lay there gasping for air.
“Damn, Andre. That was so fucking good.”
Andre smiled and slid his softening cock from Simon’s ass. He stroked his cheeks, enjoying the feeling of his hard, smooth muscles. “I don’t want to hide from it any longer. And it feels damn good. The butterfly has wrung its way free of the cocoon at last. You’ve been there for me all this time—all these years. It had to be there in the back of my mind. Nobody—no man, no woman—ever measured up. I didn’t know what it was—probably was afraid to put a name to it. But when we finally met in person—it wasn’t hero worship. You need to know that. It was something in you that my soul had always recognized, but just didn’t want to accept.”
Simon leaned back on the couch and Andre lay next to him, stroking his chest, teasing his nipples. “I’m glad we finally met. And I know what you mean. It wasn’t time for us to be together before this, there were things we each had to discover. I think I’m too old for you, but maybe age isn’t what it’s about with us.”
“It isn’t,” Andre answered. “What we have isn’t going to be easy to deal with. But I want to find a way to make this work for us. I want to be with you as much as possible for as long as possible.”
Simon chuckled. “Once you finally make a decision, you jump in with both feet, don’t you?”
“Bet your ass. I’ve never been in love before, and it feels damn good to admit what I feel now.” He looked at Simon, knowing his commitment was in the look he gave him. “I’m not alone anymore and I don’t want to go back to what I was.”
Simon leaned forward, his lips inches from Andre’s. “You won’t have to. I said I’d wait for you and I did. I think next weekend would be a good opportunity to go back up the mountain.”
“I’d like that. You can teach me how to call to the butterflies. Every time I saw one in South America, I thought of you. You know in Spanish mariposa means butterfly.”
Simon leaned closer to Andre. “Did you learn that on your trip? Yes, I know. And now your mariposa’s soul is free—to love and to live the way it was meant to.” His lips claimed Andre’s offering the promise of soul-deep love in their future.
Author Bio
Adrianna Dane has been putting pen to paper since the age of ten. She currently
resides in the state of Washington. She has a great fondness for using a fountain pen when writing her first drafts. Hobby interests are varied, including photography and traveling.
The first defining love story Adrianna read back in junior high school was “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte, and that set her on the road to her long-standing love affair with books of all genres. Her inspiration in writing often can be found by listening to song lyrics, from hard rock to clas
sical, and reading poetry by such poets as Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edgar Allen Poe, and Ranier Maria Rilke. But finding inspiration for her stories truly has no boundaries for Adrianna.
In 2006, her dark fantasy GLBT story, Body Parts, won its category in the Dream Realm Awards. Adrianna has written more than 100 stories, short, novella, and novel length, delving into many facets of the human condition - contemporary, futuristic, and fantasy, and all the flavors therein and in between. In other words, wherever the story and the characters, as well as their intricate stories, take her imagination, then her pen and/or computer keyboard, are sure to follow.
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Mariposa Soul Page 4