Do You Remember When

When they played "Do You Remember?" by Michael Jackson, over the radio, I remembered Bruce. That had been our song. I still remember the times we spent together. . .

We are cruising along a highway that is deserted except for us on a late night with no stars and no Moon, only pleasant darkness modified by street lamps and billboard signs. I have the windows down to capture the cool breeze that contrasts delightfully with the hot, hot hands on my body and the warm mouth around my cock. While I drive the car, he drives me to a state of bliss, and this deserted stretch of Nowhere on US 61 transforms into Paradise.

Do You Remember the Time When We Fell in Love?

Do You Remember the Time When We First Met?

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A crowded nightclub. People are dancing, or doing what passes for dancing, to the loud muzak. I am 21 and handsome enough, I suppose, and he is this cute 19 year old boy standing across the bar, waiting for... someone. Our eyes meet. He smiles. That is invitation enough for me. I walk up and introduce myself. The muzak is too loud to carry on good conversation. My opening has to be short and simple. First I tell him that I like his shirt. It's long and colorful and catches the eye in the darkness. He tells me he just bought it yesterday. I also like what's inside the shirt and I tell him that too. He smiles again. He likes what he sees as well. He is a work of art. Surely he stepped out of a painting for a bit of fun tonight while the museum was closed. I tell him that I have to be getting back home and would like to call him tomorrow. He nods his head. Ah, success! He writes his number down for me on a scrap of paper using a pen that the bartender provides and tells me to call him tomorrow around noon. I remember to tip the bartender. That scrap of paper is worth more to me than all the money in my wallet. I place it carefully in my pocket and as I leave the bar I touch it, just to make sure it's still there.

These Sweet Memories Will Always Be Dear to Me,

And No Matter What We Said,

I Will Never Forget What We Did.

Do You Remember?

It is Valentines Day. By now my love for him is strong. We go to the bar again. He is mine, and I am his, and everyone knows this. I could dance all night. I do not need to sleep, not now or ever. It is obvious that I will live forever. We sit down to rest. His hands are warm as a summer afternoon as they massage my shoulders. My eyes almost close. I perceive pleasure in the absolute; it is serene delight, completely focused, without distractions of any kind. A guy I went out with once, Ron, passes by and stares at me for just a moment. He does not look happy. I want to talk with him, but cannot move while under the influence of this spell that Bruce has cast upon me. Soon Ron is forgotten--just another face in the crowd.

And then. . . and then. . . and then. . . five days later, it all stopped. The years piled on top of the years. One day we will be molecules scattered throughout the cosmos. . . But while we loved each other, it was sublime and powerful, and if our love had lasted any longer, we should have ascended to the stars. Maybe it's fortunate that did not happen. I hear it is cold in space.

Do You Remember When We Both Were Young?

We'd Stay On The Phone From Night Til Dawn.

Do You Remember All The Things We Did?

It Just Seemed Like Heaven, Now Didn't It?

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