My Lovers Hand
LoversHand - M/M - 1/29/2005
My Lover's Hand
By SwampRat
As I sit by the window, I hold my lover's hand. Possibly for the last time. We both know it.. Neither of us wants to let go. But there is a revolution. One in which my lover needs to be in. I doubt I will die this night - I am but an old man Clasping the strong, digits of a much younger one.
I know.. It is time. I kiss the back of his hand, letting it go at last. He kisses me, lips warm and soft against mine. Then he is gone. I can not call him back, Even if I wanted to.. And How I Want To! But there is a Revolution going on - A changing of the Guard. And as with most revolutions, this one has to be fed with young bodies. There is no other way - The chains of oppression bite too deep, are too heavy to be borne any longer.
Watching the light flicker off torches and guns, and blades I recall how we met. At the market, it was. A melon had rolled away from me and no matter how I tried, I could not get the blasted thing. You see, I get around in a wheelchair. I Can walk - I could probably Fly if a tiger was chewing on my butt. But barring something life-threatening, I am stuck in this metal and rubber contraption.
As I said, I was trying to get the damn melon when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed it. Held it out to me. I said, Thank You - I was raised to be polite. Got a soft smile in return. He was wearing a big, red jumpsuit that showed off his muscles very well. I got some gasps when I took the hand and squeezed it softly. Maybe it was my white skin almost gleaming against his darker color. Maybe it was because White folk don't do that.. And they could kiss my butt. He helped me with my purchases, helped me home and helped me into bed.
The strong, silent type he was. Just unzipped and stood nude in front of me. I was sure I would be on the bottom - Especially the way he kept grabbing my ass as he pulled me from the chair. But it was his sweet lips that went between my legs, his hands that grabbed my balls, and made me cum. His dark cheeks that slid open to accept my modest offering. I couldn't do much to help, but I did play with his nipples, even got to tongue them a couple of times. He made me feel like I was a young man again. Right up to the point I came.. And Went.
I woke, sticky, sweaty, smelling of male rut. And he was there too - lying with my head cradled in his big arm, just looking at me. I think I *blushed* because he smiled. Moaned as I stroked his erection. Got him off again. Now I am big.. Ok I am fat. But he liked my fat... He would jiggle my belly and squeeze my ass and snort when I made rude remarks about my flab. I say this so you know, when I say he hauled me out of that bed and into the shower, you will understand when I say he was Strong.
Gods I haven't felt another's hands on me like this since I left the hospital. A couple of the orderlies were cute but just not my type.. Or maybe I wasn't theirs. But my lover - He washed me with love, and strength and desire. So much I actually managed to ejaculate for him again.. And him for me. I shiver even now, thinking about holding his monster on my hand, running my thumb over his cock-tip. So similar, yet so different. And when he was done and were were dry, fed and caressing each other.. He left.
Of course he dressed, and Damn it hurt to watch that beautiful body disappear back into that crappy outfit. But I didn't own him. Gods forgive me but I wanted to..
Someone is at the door - A wild-eyed, brown-skinned person. She waves a knife at me, probably one of a set from some wealthy family's kitchen. I then my chair and she looks me over. Bares her teeth as I tell her I prefer men in my bed - But I could make an exception. It may be tough to get up, but tougher to be without!
Shakes her head and is off - Back into the night. My hopes and wishes go with her, because someplace my heart's holder is also welding some weapon. Possibly using it against another person. I shudder.. Close my door and wait, knowing I will not sleep tonight. Not until I know. No - Not who won, Nobody wins. People die, others live. I must know if those strong hands that held me such a short time ago, that strong body that brought me bliss just to hold it next to mine.. If He will return.
Another being rushes past my window howling triumphantly. There will be wounded. I wonder if they will let me assist, or shun me because I am one of the Others. The Hated Masters. Torn between wishing to help and not wanting to leave, I stare at myself in the reflection. The Masters.. The Humans.
Gods grant one old man and one lonely male gorilla can find each other again.. If not in This world, then perhaps in the next. I close my eyes, clenching my hands, wishing the leathery, strong, black-skinned ones of my lover were there to grasp.
The End