by Young
We laid quietly on the Queen to savor the afterglow. Michael’s smoldering cigarette cast an eerie glow in the shadowy darkness while my guardian and I dressed to return to the posh side of town. The New Zealander was keen to see us again and arranged to meet a couple of nights later at Club El Sombrero. Unbeknownst to the leatherman, Andy and I had left the following afternoon for Daltonbury Hall to commence my new term and my Big-Brother training programme under my Valet’s tutelage.
First Week of January 2015
Andy’s Response to My Message
Yes, I am back in the saddle after several weeks of slow recovery. Ari came to visit and stayed for a week. It was nice to catch up with him. He enquired about you and sends his regards.
I am glad to know that you are open to visiting me in Australia. I will be delighted to show you the country I call home and will be honored if you’ll stay with me. We can catch up on the old and the new. I’ll be at the airport waiting for you when you notify me of your arrival.
I look forward to seeing you again.
Sorry for this brief message. I am on my way to the hospital for my medical follow-up.
Talk soon.
Andy
A Cut Above the Rest (Chapter Fifty-Seven)
“When you look at me, when you think of me, I am in paradise.”
William Makepeace Thackeray
Second Week of October 1968
Ipanema Beach, Rio De Janeiro, Brazil
Shortly after the crowning of the new Miss Brazil World, Mario, Tad, Roberto, the winner - Señorita Martha Maria Vasconcellos, and the 1968 Miss Mundo Brasil runner-ups, together with a host of other pageant judges and hangers-on disappeared on a time-honored celebratory afterparty. Andy and I were left to our contrivances. Although we had agreed to go to the Clube with Sergio, the night was young; and under the hypnotic glow of the October moon, we strolled along the infamous Ipanema Beach.
In the day, this sun-drenched strip welcomes sun lovers from around the world, and its subcultures of leftists, hippies, and artists are as diverse as Rio itself. Back then, my chaperone and I were unaware that to the East of Rua Farme de Amoedo was Praia Farme; a notorious playground for men who prefer men or trannies who sought the company of muscle bears (slang for hairy gay men). This sordid area had acquired the reputation of Barbie Land. Barbie - an argot used by Cariocas for waxed or unwaxed muscular homosexuals.
As we ambled hand in hand and barefoot along the cool ocean’s edge, frisky Andy kicked at the ripples and soaked me from head to toe. In playful retaliation, I pushed my lover into the water. He dragged me along with him. We splashed at one another like a couple of delinquents. Before long, we were frolicking in the water like frivolous jaybirds.
An odd feeling gushed through me when Andy pinned my hands on the sand. I stared at my handsome guardian and wept. Not knowing what overcame my person, I shut my eyes tightly. As if I was unworthy of his love, I dared not look at his flawless self.
“What’s the matter, Young?” my lover inquired.
I did not reply. I was afraid to open my eyes to behold my guardian’s beauty. When he planted an impassioned kiss on my mouth and laid on top of me, I responded in kind. Even though his mind probed my serendipitous quiddity for answers; I had no riposte to my melancholia. My recalcitrant tears continued to flow as my lover’s gentle caresses soothed my wistful heart.
We French-kissed for what felt like an eternity.
I whispered, “I don’t deserve you, Andy.”
He stared at me before he chirped, “You are being a Silly-Billy. What do you mean you don’t deserve me?”
“You are every person’s dream boy. Why am I the lucky one to have you? I don’t deserve your love.” I sobbed.
My lover held me to him before he planted another kiss on my lips. His action stirred our already hardened manhood to palpitate.
I stared at him unflinchingly and brushed a stray curl from his princely face.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you?” I murmured.
“You wouldn’t be without me…,” he paused before he resumed, “Unless you choose to ditch me.”
My guardian laid a finger on my lips to prevent me from speaking. Instead, he encircled his tongue around my protruding nipples. I arched my back to greet his sensual titillations with hedonistic delight. His hand careened towards my tender bottom to tease my twitching hollow.
I would give myself to this handsome Apollo, anytime and anywhere, and Ipanema beach was no exception to the rule. Little did we realize that spying eyes were observing our every move, a short distance away.
Andy’s beauty was beyond compare under the glimmering October moon. I was the luckiest boy who had captured the heart of this demigod. As my lover’s nimble fingers razzed the smoothness of my skin, my undeserving apprehension continued to course through me. While the undulating waves caressed our naked souls to impassioned lubricity, his loving touch and tender kisses lured our youthfulness to throbbing urgency.
I was in seventh heaven when his mightiness perforated my sanctum of delight. We remained motionless, encased in his cocoon of love. Our mind, body, and spirit merged to the Oneness of Being under the oscillating waves. This empyrean coitus unified us to unimaginable bliss. Our souls coiled like intertwined serpents before our crowns burst into a “thousand lotus petals.” Time stood still as we amalgamated within Sahasrara’s sensual currents. Our immobility had divinely impelled us towards nirvana. Torrents of my Apollo’s sacred oblations poured into my beatified sanctuary while my libations spritzed onto our already dampened torsos. Our lips remained locked in subliminal ecstasy. We were reluctant to relinquish this sanctification until sanity regained its grip.
As we lay by the water’s edge, Andy whispered, “You, boy, is a cut above the rest.”
“And I say the same of you, Apollo,” I teased.
A small assemblage had gathered in the shadows when we stood to dress. A couple of bears and she-males had circle-jerked while spying on Andy and me. Although no tenebrous observers traversed our path, they were awed by our sacred eroticism. Their eyes followed as we passed them in silence.
We did not meet Sergio at the Clube but returned to The Palace to be readied for Acapulco the following day; as I had documented in A Harem Boy’s Saga – V – Metanoia; a memoir by Young, chapter one - The Perfect Storm.
The Third Week of January 2015
David’s Message to Andy and Me
Hi guys,
Time flies by quickly, and before we know it, January is almost over.
Shortly after my return from our Christmas vacation, I suffered severe stomach pain and was rushed to the hospital. I’ve been diagnosed with stomach cancer and is undergoing treatment to eradicate the cancer cells from spreading. Thank goodness, I discovered this malice at its early stage. The good news; it is treatable.
This distressing experience fostered me to reevaluate my life and to devote more time to my family, especially to my grandson, Jacob. As I mentioned to Young in my previous email; I bonded with the lad through our shared cognizance of fantastical creatures. I hope you and Andy will befriend Jacob? He is fascinated by Young’s preternatural experiences and has questions regarding this topic. As you know, my knowledge on this subject is limited and am unable to answer his queries. He is badgering me for your email and Facebook addresses so he can connect with you.
I hope this is not too much to ask. I look forward to your responses.
Best wishes,
David
PART FOUR
England - Isle of Wight, Daltonbury Hall
France – Paris
Netherlands – Utrecht, Amsterdam
What Is Love? (Chapter Fifty-Eight)
“Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art.”
Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
Early in January 1969
Daltonbury Hall, Isle of Wight, England
My final term at Daltonbury Hall was hectic with my upcoming “A Level” examinatio
n to prepare, and my month-long Big-Brother training programme. John, my ex-roommate was the teaching assistant to my Big-Brother/tutor, Hanns.
This Eurasian ex-wild child had matured beyond his eighteen years of age. Besides being debonair, and decorous; John’s worldliness could rival any gentleman in both the Western and Eastern hemispheres. He was my first buddy at Daltonbury, and we were glad to revitalize our friendship. Although our relationship started on rocky grounds due to my jealousy between him and my then ex-BB/trainer, Nikee; we had settled our differences. On the occasions when we were back to school from our various Household assignments, our friendship flourished and picked-up where we left. We were rooming together again before his graduation as an official Big-Brother.
My handsome twenty-year-old Big-Brother cum educator, Hanns, was a strapping bisexual Norwegian. Besides being an avid skier and ice-hockey enthusiast, he was on his final leg of Big-Brothership before he headed to the University of Pennsylvania to study medicine. I was delighted to be under this BB’s tutelage.
The evening after my return from London, John and I had a chat at the student’s recreational facility.
“How are you and Andy getting along?” he enquired.
I replied enervatedly, “I’m not looking forward to his departure to New Zealand.”
I paused before I added, “It is hard being in love.”
Silence followed before my roommate responded, “You know, Young; love is the most powerful emotion a person can experience, and almost nobody can define what love is. It is difficult to understand love because the word itself is not the same as the feeling.”
“What do you mean?” I queried.
He resumed, “You see, the word ‘love’ is often used as an expression of affection towards another: like I love you, but it also expresses pleasure: such as I love chocolates. To make things more complicated, love also represents a human virtue that is based on compassion, affection, and kindness. In other words, a state of being that has nothing to do with something or someone outside of yourself. For me, is the purest form of Love.”
He paused to garner my countenance before he commented, “Do you know that in ancient Greece, there are seven words to define the different states of love?”
I nodded.
“When I was in Athens with Andy, he told me the four Greek words for love: Storge (affection), Philia (friendship), Eros (Romance) and Agape (Unconditional Love or Charity). But he did not mention the seven states of love. What are they?” I questioned inquisitively.
“I don’t need to tell you the first four since you already know them, but I will mention the other three. Ludus (Playful, young love or flirting), Pragma (Longing-lasting love) as in a longtime married couple, and Philautia (Self-love).
“The love you feel for Andy is not the same as the love you feel for your mother. The love for your lover also changes throughout the relationship. You feel different emotions in different situations and people, yet, the word ‘love’ is used loosely. I may say ‘I love you’ to two different people, but the meaning and feeling are entirely different,” he declared.
“I know that,” I muttered.
“But do you also know that a person’s feelings are controlled by the right brain and language is by the left?” he added.
I shook my head in ignorance.
“For the sake of argument; you say the word ‘love’ twelve times a day in different circumstances. The ‘love’ word loses its power because your left brain cannot comprehend the excitement of ‘love,’ that your right brain feels. Therefore, we need to know the seven feelings of love before we repeat the ‘love’ word constantly. You see, Young, awareness is the secret to love,” John promulgated.
He continued, “First and foremost, do not abuse the word ‘love.’ Use alternative words to express an emotion. For example; I enjoy chocolates rather than I love chocolates, or I have a passion for my job instead of I love my post.
“Enjoy, love and passion are three different emotions. Therefore, it is essential to learn the true meaning of these words; not merely to communicate with someone, but to experience them. Words are powerful instruments in communication with others and yourself. Words you use also create awareness and your reality. If words are used wisely, you’ll learn to recognize the kind of loving emotion you are feeling. Then you are able to enjoy the different kinds of love more profoundly.”
“Wow! I didn’t know the different ‘love’ expressions have such significance,” I exclaimed.
“Love is not something you acquire or don’t uncover, but a practice of a lifetime. If you don’t have love within, you’ll never find it in the exterior,” my friend counseled.
“That, I am aware,” I opined.
He interposed, “Words are agreements to express ideas or feelings. Although the meaning of the word ‘love’ is not absolution but a personal interpretation; the group of emotions associated with love is difficult to fathom. It is even more difficult to express to another.
“The creation of a word can give rise to an emotional feeling. Sometimes lovers create words to express how they feel for each other. These created words become an agreement or memories for the people involved. Special moments are conjured up in the lovers’ minds when these words are used.”
I evinced, “In my culture, there are many words to describe an emotion instead of one.”
The teaching assistant stated, “In other languages there exist many words that relate to love that express different emotion than in English. Once you are aware of these words and recognize the feeling; then you can have a better grip on the experience.”
“A Chinese word that comes to mind is Yuan-fen. It is a love relationship established on the principles in the Chinese culture,” I conveyed.
“Throughout my travels with the various households, I’ve learned many new expressions of love. There is the Yaghan word – Mamihlapinatapai, which means a look shared by two people who desire intimacy which neither could fulfill. Then there is the Brazilian Portuguese word – Cafuné, which means running your fingers slowly through a person’s hair. In Nordic - Forelsket translates to a first timer’s euphoria when he/she falls in love. There are also French words like - Retrouvailles that describes the happiness of seeing someone again after a long time and La Douleur Exquise; the agony of the heart when he/she desires someone they cannot have. In Arabic - Ya’aburnee illustrates the hope that you will die earlier than your beloved, so you don’t have to live without the beloved. Finally, the Portuguese word - Saudade chronicles the feeling of longing for the loved one who is unavailable,” John adjudged.
“I know the word - Saudade. It happened in Amsterdam to my ex-patriarch, Dr. Sheik Fahrib, and his beloved, Prince P,” I voiced.
My friend admonished, “‘Moments’ are essential in other cultures. That is the reason they have words like these to express their feelings. Young, my advice to you, is not to use one word to define your love for Andy but to recognize the varied forms of love and abide by them.”
He added, “Love is emotion in action. You can learn how to feel and cultivate your love to encompass the different types of love. Appreciate the love you feel and then share that love with others. The love between two entities begins when the interaction is based on truth, trust, and respect. These criteria are essential for mutual love to grow between both parties. When both partners reciprocate the love they give, their bond will grow by leaps and bounds.”
Little did I realize that my first lesson in Big-Brothership training had begun in the recreational facility that evening.
On our way back to our dormitory, John asserted, “Once you understand the workings of love, falling in love with someone becomes easy. The difficult part is to stay in love. If it is difficult to remain in love. It is also likely that the person you are in love with is not the love of your life, but a temporal amatory experience. True love is beautiful, and if it is not; the chances are it’s not real. It is time to move to greener pastures when love fades away,
and you don’t feel the passion any longer.”
These were his final words before we bid each other goodnight, “The important question for you is - are you experiencing love or are you not?”
I excused myself for a solitary stroll; to ponder his final remark before I retired to our dormitory to begin another frantic school day.
Second Week of January 2015
My Reply to Andy
Dear Andy,
Do you remember the four loves you taught me when we were touring Greece in 1967?
Since then, my knowledge of the word ‘love’ has ameliorated prodigiously. LOL! Please correct me if my comprehension of romantic love is incorrect. ??
Brain scientists tell us that love is involuntary. It is a craving for a specific person. In the early stage of romance, it is healthy and natural to “lose control.” Love will make a person do strange things. It is a physical addiction and to treat it like addiction can assist us to understand love.
As you had mentioned in the past, the ancient Greeks termed love as “the madness of the gods.” Whereas contemporary psychologists define it as a strong desire for emotional union with another person. The word ‘love’ means different things to different people.
I have taken the liberty to quote some descriptions of love:
A songwriter wrote; “Whenever you’re near, I hear a symphony.”
In Shakespeare’s words; “Love is blind, and lovers cannot see.”
Then there is Aristotle who professed that “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”