by Young
Parris supplemented, “Jibreel is Allah’s heavenly messenger to humanity. The Quran 2:97 states: ‘Whoever is an enemy to Jibreel - for he brings down the (revelation) to your heart by Allah’s will….’”
“What are the tasks of the Muslim angels?” my Valet inquired.
“There are many. Some angels execute Allah’s law in the physical world. For example, Mika’eel is responsible for directing rain to wherever the Creator wishes for it to fall. Other angels assist Mika’eel to direct the winds and clouds in the direction they are to blow,” the professor answered.
He paused before he recommenced, “At the onset of Judgement Day, Israfeel is accorded the task to sound the judgment horn. The Angel of Death and his assistants are granted the mission to guide souls out of the bodies of the deceased, as affirmed in Quran 32:11: ‘The Angel of Death, put in charge of you, will (duly) take your souls; then shall you return to your Lord.’ There are also guardian angels whose duties are to protect the believers throughout their mortal life.”
Emanuel augmented, “Some angels are responsible for recording an individual’s deeds - be they good or bad. These preternatural beings are known as the ‘honorable scribes.’
“Then there are Munkar, and Nakeer, Their job is to test the deceased in the grave. And among them are the keepers of Paradise and the nineteen ‘guards’ of Hell led by Malik.
“Atop that, some angels are assigned to breathe life into the souls of fetuses. These angels indenture the newborn’s provisions, life-span, and actions. They also determine the individual’s fate.”
The angelologist indicated, “There are roamer angels who travel the globe to spread the word of Allah, so the Creator is exulted.
“Angels are The Almighty’s grandiose creation, and they vary in numbers, roles, and abilities. In reality, God and or Allah; whichever you prefer to call the Creator has no need for these entities. The knowledge and belief in angels add to the awe a believer feels towards God/Allah. Therefore, the magnificence of ‘His’ creation is proof of the Almighty’s magnificence.”
I said sarcastically, “Doesn’t it make The Almighty an arrogant being?”
“That’s one way of viewing The Father,” Dr. Augustin noted before he whispered in my ear, “I’ll illuminate you further during your stay in Safe Haven.”
The Beginning of September 2014
Continuation of My Response to Andy and David (Part Two)
David here is more room for thoughts. An awkward encounter presented itself on the final evening of Andy, Albert and my stay at Safe Haven. We were allocated individual rooms at Abri Sûr.
I woke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Upon my return, I noticed the translucent silhouette of a man at the foot of my bed. I rubbed my eyes to be sure I wasn’t experiencing a phantasmagoria. I got back into bed since there was nothing but darkness. Just as I was about to cascade into slumber, the hazy delineation reappeared. The opalescence resembled the angel guise I perceived of Dr. Augustin at The White Unicorn. From the photographs I have seen in Safe Haven, this entity was a young Olivier. He beckoned me to him.
Suddenly, a pair of opaline wings enveloped my naked person. Galvanizing energy coursed through my physique and jolted me to a magnified spiritual awareness. His feathery touch aroused every fiber of my being a thousandfold. I surrendered to his embrace as our lips met in a passionate kiss. I returned the fervor with frenzied ferocity when his delirious tongue probed my yearning mouth. We merged into a cocoon of prurient amorousness. Our gyrating hardness did little to conceal our libidinousness but capitulated our desire to seal our union in humming concessions. I melted into this striking specimen as he cradled me like a newborn. Our tongues swirled, lapped and sucked at each other’s tenderness.
He lifted my legs to receive his stiffness into my core. Bolts of indescribable approbation galvanized my mortality and catapulted me to seventh heaven. Buried in his beatified bosom, he glided his rigidity into my expedient appetency. Euphoria paved our peregrination as his denseness stroked my inviting crevice.
Unannounced, his undulating wings elevated us out of the French window. Through the twinkling night sky, we flew. Southern winds guided us above aromatic pastures and babbling streams while his gliding massiveness furrowed into my orifice with winsome pleasure. Lighter than air and freer than birds, we soared until our desires overshadowed our exuberance.
Our elation served to deliver our synchronized liberation beneath the fulsome moon. We sealed our divine carnality in jubilant exultation as his sturdiness engulfed my peaceful refuge. Reluctant to relinquish our rapturous effervescence, he shrouded me in his supple wings by a prattling brook. Against his supple musculature, I eased into a restful slumber. I was awakened by the rising sun and found myself under the cozy down in my Abri Sûr chamber.
I related my angel encounter to Professor Olivier Augustin, and these were his parting words before we left Safe Haven.
“The human psychic and physique are capable of encounters beyond rationality. When your mind, body, and spirit are free from earthly constraints, the impossible becomes possible.”
Yours truly,
Young
In My Master’s Chambers (Chapter Twenty-Eight)
“What unites us is unconditional love.”
Victor Angel Triqueros
Third Week of November 1968
La Sultana, Marrakech, Morocco
The two days we spent at La Sultana was nothing short of consequential. In the late nineteenth century, this exquisite hotel was the home of Caïd Azzi Boujemaa. It was a gift from Sultan Moulay Ismael, the then ruler of the Alaouite dynasty to Boujemaa for his devotion and loyalty. Boujemma’s son lovingly restored many of its original features during the French protectorate, and this address became synonymous with glamorous society balls and parties organized by his coquettish French wife, Odette.
In 1968, La Sultana entertained many royalties with its hospitality, elegance, and charm. It was in this resplendent establishment that I received a summon from Sheik Dr. Fahrib to his chamber.
An Abd delivered the message when my chaperone and I were relaxing in a fragrant rose petaled pool. My Valet read the note aloud.
Young, come to my chamber at 9 PM this evening.
Fahrib
“Have you any idea why the sheik asks for you?” Andy inquired.
I shrugged my shoulders.
Without uttering another word, Andy planted a kiss on my lips.
He declared, “I’ll make love to you now if not for this summon. But you must remain chaste for His Excellency.”
“You, Mr. Valet, you don’t have to remain chaste. You’re not being sent for. I can cherish you,” I remarked.
Without waiting for a response, I gulped his firmness below water.
He moaned with delight and laid against the pool’s edge with my head on his groin. My lover’s masculinity never fails to excite me. Not only was Andy many women and gay males’ fantasy man, but he was also my dream beau, and I was the lucky lad whom he gave his heart to. Heartened by his love, I was delighted to pleasure him with my oral expertise. Although my lover’s rapturous expressions heightened my desire to envelop him in my core, I knew I had to be chaste for the sheik.
I suckled his stiffness as he savored my devotion. His hypnotic stares and heaving torso ignited my prurience to throb incessantly. His groans grew lustier as my oral action intensified. No longer able to withhold his release, he coated my mouth and his athletic frame with his gleaming virility.
I lapped at his supremacy with enthusiasm before I lowered my orifice back onto his engorgement to rouse him to another burgeoning explosion. His seed filled my throat to overflowing capacity before we shared his passion in a lingering kiss.
This man was my world and mine his. We were the Yin and the Yang, the Moon and the Sun and most importantly, the Neophyte and the Virtuoso that forms the whole. As my harem services drew closer to its finale, I was becoming like my mentor in more ways than I could
envision. I was merely glad to be of assistance to my kind-hearted instructor and my benevolent patriarchs. They, who’d taken me under their wings in guardianship and guidance. I was grateful to return the favor with carnality; especially to my beloved Valet, who had loved me unconditionally since we met.
My chaperone was unenthusiastic when it came time for me to proceed to my Master’s suite. I had to remind Andy of our E.R.O.S. commitments, and I discerned that the mannerly doctor required a pair of listening ears than a sexual liaison; even though I had a hunch that my sympathetic ear might lead to an erotic rendezvous. I assured my lover that my heart was always his and I must console my patriarchs to the best of my ability.
In The Sheik’s Boudoir
Andy waited at the lounge, when Malik, one of Fahrib’s bodyguard guided me into my Master’s bedchamber. I was not surprised to hear melancholic music emanating from the other side of the ingress. Malik knocked on the closed door before he ushered me in.
Fahrib continued on his fiddle when I entered. I kept silent until he finished with the pensive melody. He motioned for me to sit next to him when I noticed woeful tears on the sides of his rugged face.
He muttered, “I’m glad you came.”
“Why wouldn’t I. I will always be here for you, sir,” I replied.
“Your cheerfulness and avidity never fail to chase my blues away,” he remarked.
I kept quiet. I did not know what to say. Fahrib cupped my hand to his and played with my nimble fingers. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingertips affectionately.
“Oh, the tenderness of youth.” He paused before he added, “I wish I could possess again. I wish it would never end. Those short years are now so far behind.”
I spoke, “Your Excellency, you have everything life can offer.”
He broke into a smile. “That’s what many would say. They’ll understand my predicament if they’re in my shoes.”
Silence followed. He resumed, “Shahria and Roya are acting out again. Their bickering is out of control.”
He paused before he continued, “I’ll be a happy man if I have a loving relationship like yours and Andy.”
“You have, sir. With Prince P,” I commented.
“He is making love with another as we speak,” the Arab uttered sadly.
Once again silence fell in the room before the doctor re-commenced, “He’s off with the jinniyah, Mariam.”
Another round of silence followed.
“Here I am, in sorrow when it was I who gave him my blessing to be with the woman. Oh, how I wish P would love me as I love him,” the aristocrat murmured wistfully.
“Of course, the prince loves you. True love is unconditional. The more love you give, the more love will return to you,” I consoled.
“I wish it is that simple, Young.” He wept. “In my culture, the love I have for P is taboo. Our intimacy will forever remain a secret. It’s a case of don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“When you become Emir, you can change that way of thinking,” I chirped.
He burst out in laughter.
“That’s what I like about you. Your purity of spirit is contagious. Unfortunately, many circumstances forbid my faith and culture to change. Maybe in the distant future but certainly not in my lifetime,” Fahrib expressed lamentingly.
“You can be the first to path the way for change,” I declared enthusiastically.
“Your exuberance never ceases to lighten my burden. Maybe I’ll make you the counselor of my country,” he said amusingly.
He pulled me to him and kissed my lips. He expressed when he released his grip, “Where is your Valet? I want to see the both of you make love.”
Taken aback by this unexpected request, I answered, “He is in the lounge waiting for me.”
The sheik had opened the door to wave Andy in before I could finish talking.
My guardian asked surprisingly, “Your Excellency, is there anything the matter?”
“Come in, Andy. I want to watch you and Young make love,” the patriarch announced.
A look of astonishment washed over my chaperone’s face before he replied, “Most certainly, sir. I’m happy to be of service.”
Love To Love You
My Valet never fails to amaze me. He could switch on his virility at the drop of a hat as if by divine command. No matter the circumstances, Andy’s piercing eyes and studly handsomeness induced me to ardency I find difficult to resist. His tenderness captured my soul the moment our lips met. I melted into his shielding arms as if in a protective cocoon. Our kisses soon turned to impassioned amorosity.
He lifted me onto the King and stripped me naked. I laid beneath my lover like a sacrificial lamb as his palpitating organ drummed against my briefs. His fervency strained for my oral attention.
The Arab watched unblinkingly at the unfolding eroticism. An unanticipated opportunity had arisen for my lover to fulfill his desire at the petaled flower pool, he pried my mouth open to receive his twirling tongue. He tastes honeysuckle sweet as I lapped at the swirling invasion. Like a young bird deprived of nourishment, I was hypnotized by my lover’s feed. I surrendered to his every move. I needed him and him, me.
His Excellency’s bulbousness bounced above my face before he inserted his stiffness into my craving mouth. His pair of dangling globes roused me to attention. I gawked at the kissing men above.
Andy lifted up my legs and spat into my twitching crevice before I had time to savor their magnificence. I craved their love that dare not speak its name, the forbidden love my Master quandary over was now played out between us.
How can this divine love that titillates, tantalizes, and arouse every fiber of our mortality be immoral? Yet, this humanly fabricated immorality had ruined many souls and induced wars among nations. And most heinous of all, this falsified turpitude continues to be used by overzealous Scribes and Pharisees to persecute this sanctified union called LOVE.
That night, our carnality triggered a consecrated trinity between us. A bond that aided the sheik to come to terms with himself. To be the man who would become king - the benevolent Emir of a nation, he would eventually lead into the 21st century.
As our heated amativeness grew in fervency, I was in seventh heaven as the recipient of two dominant alphas. I jounced euphorically as their firmnesses penetrated me effortlessly. Livid sprays of ecstatic potencies shot within my person as our triune fervidity catapulted us into simultaneous ejaculations. I laid buried within their throbbing phalluses. It was within this divine blissfulness we shared our fill in a three-way kiss.
It was close to dawn by the time my chaperone and I left the doctor’s boudoir. Andy held my hand to his lips and sealed it with a kiss.
“You, boy, better tell me what transpired in your Master’s chamber?” he teased delectably.
Stay In The Present (Chapter Twenty-Nine)
“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow; it only saps today of its joy.”
Leo Buscaglia
Third Week of July 1968
Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, London, England
I was delighted to see Uncle James after several months of absence. The evening before my mother’s arrival in London, I had a heart-to-heart talk with my English guardian. He had kindly invited Andy and me to sup with him at one of London’s oldest English establishments - Simpson’s-in-the-Strand.
This restaurant started life in 1828 as a smoking room and soon became a coffee house. Around 1850 Simpson’s achieved notoriety for its traditional English cuisine, particularly roast meats. From the mid to late nineteenth century this was the most important venue in Britain for chess tournaments. When the Savoy Hotel group acquired the property at the end of the century, this prestigious institution a purveyor of traditional English food and chess ceased to be a feature.
P.G. Wodehouse labeled Simpson as “a restful temple of food,” while others, the likes of Charles Dickens, William Ewart Gladstone, and Benjamin Disraeli called it “a large, well-appointed establishment
.”
In 1968, the traditional English roast we ordered was carved in front of us on a silver dinner trolley by a liveried waiter who kept eyeing my handsome Valet.
“Andy, you are quite the object of our waiter’s affection,” Uncle James teased.
“He’s everyone’s lover,” I jested.
“But, Young is my true love,” my chaperone declared expediently.
My perceptive uncle noticed the insidious glance I had given my lover before he remarked wittily, “Now, boys, tell me the truth.”
My Valet and I stared at one another, not knowing what to say. James looked at my chaperone for a response.
Andy, being a respectable gentleman related to my uncle of our time in the Lake District, our visit to his ex-lover, Albert’s ancestral home, and last but not least our sojourn to see Dr. Olivier Augustin, the angelologist in Cornwall. Along the way, he imparted to James of his and Albert’s attraction to one another. In spite of that, he maintained that I was, and will always be the love of his life.
When he finished, my surrogate father directed his question to me. “If that is indeed the case, why are you obdurate about Andy’s confession of love for you?”
“Sir, I am not obdurate about Andy’s love for me, but that I’ve been forewarned by Dr. Olivier Augustin to be cautious of a wolf in sheep’s clothing among us,” I recounted.
James burst into laughter. He opined merrily, “Just because an angelologist warns you to be cautious, doesn’t mean that the person you are to be heedful of, is Albert. Did the professor identify the ‘wolf’ as Albert?”
Caught off guard by my uncle’s analysis, I did not know how to respond. After all, Olivier had made no mention of Albert, except when he uttered those words his gaze was fixated on both my Valet and his ex during our St. Michael’s Mount tour.