The Last Handful of Clover - Book 2: Gifts Both Light and Dark

2.32 Morning Sunlight

Richard tried to speak, but found that his throat was locked as securely as his limbs. He tried to free one and then the other, with no success.

"I know what you're thinking," the old man said, and had the temerity to reach out a gnarled hand and place it on Keith's short, stubby toes. "You're imagining what it would be like to be with this little piggy again. To fuck him, just like you used to. To make him moan the way you liked so much. To lick that spunk off his belly and actually taste it." He sighed as if he was remembering it himself.

"It's okay, Richard. I understand. You don't need to pretend with me. I know you. I know that you're remembering everything it meant to be in a body. To touch, to feel. To fuck. You're just remembering what it meant to be alive." The old man smirked and hooked a thin, bony finger in his direction. "And you're imagining what it might be like to do it all again."

Richard couldn't speak. And he also couldn't turn away, even though every part of him longed to block the vision of this death-masked old skeleton. So instead, he just stared at Keith, and the line of wetness glistening on his round belly. Tiny rivulets of semen were sliding down the curve now, and soaking into the sheets. The way his tears refused to do.

"You can't stop thinking about it, can you, Richard? Being in a body again. It's only been a bit more than a week, and already you long for it like a junkie longs for a fix." The old fingers caressed Keith's toes, and then slid trembling up the young man's smooth shin, toying with the fine, dark hairs that lingered inside his knee.

Richard wanted to launch himself at the old man. To beat him until nothing was left but a red stain on the carpet. But this time he could not move.

"How will that hunger feel in a month, I wonder? Or in a year? Or maybe in a hundred years?" the Wanderer asked, his eyes sparkling with malice.

Perhaps the thing could actually read his thoughts, but Richard suspected he was just fishing. Of course he knew Richard must be thinking about possession—after what he had told him the last time they had met, that would be a safe assumption for him to make. But could he really tell what Richard was actually thinking?

He tried to make his mind a blank. To not feel or show any reaction to the Wanderer's words. He tried not to think about killing the old man. He tried not to think about the Fourth Gift. He tried not to think about making love to Keith. He tried not to think about anything.

Just listen, he repeated to himself. Listen and remember everything this psychopath has to say...

"Some of us here forget what it's like to be in a body," the old man was saying, almost dreamily now. "And some eventually lose that hunger for touch. For sex. For love. But I can tell you are not one of those ghosts, Richard Pratt, and I suspect you will never be. You will never forget what it was like to be in a body. To feel skin against skin. To feel your lips on the lips of another man. To taste his sweat and smell the musk that lingers in those dark and moist places. And especially you'll never stop yearning to feel yourself sliding into your lover, feeling his ass tight around your cock. Hearing him moan as he lets you... inside... As he gives himself to you. As he let's you take him. Take his body. Drink in his youth."

Just listen. Don't react. Just listen and remember...

"You'll never stop wanting that. And if you don't get it, the wanting of it will drive you mad. If you are honest with yourself, you know I am telling you the truth." The man's bony and spotted hand traveled up past Keith's knee. "But I'm here to tell you that you can have it all back. And better, you can have it the way it used to be. Before you got old. Imagine what it would be like to fuck your little piggy here with a new, strong, young body. A nice, big, hard, young cock. One that was fresh and new, not like that withered old thing there." The creature looked directly into Richard's crotch and made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Such a sad old thing, you have there, Richard. Wouldn't you rather have a new one? Imagine what it would be like to be able to touch that new body and pleasure it, and know it was yours. It would be a body that you could do anything you wanted with. Imagine what it would be like to feel that thick young cock growing hard in your clenched fist."