The Elysian Fields of dreams

I was wandering through the house, sort of seeing if my guests were satisfied with their arrangements. Then I went to Marco’s room. This is my best buddy from college. Earlier we had a huge rowl in the play den. Now he was seated on the floor, in front of the TV, freshly bathed, relaxing in a bathrobe. I dropped in exhaustion beside him.

‘You gotten rid of everyone?’ he asked absentmindedly.

‘Nah-uh. They are all ensconced in the game room. I think I’ll leave them to bet themselves into the ground. Won’t be surprised if they would all be found slumped on the gaming tables and pool table tomorrow.’

‘Yeah,’ he grinned. ‘With some interesting things happening in the middle of the night.’

‘Well, at least the kids are safely locked up in the nursery.’ I was referring to a couple of kids that some of my guests had already contributed to the propagation game.

He snorted. As we sat there in companionable silence, there came a knock. I turned my head. Gant, my electrician, peered in.

‘Yes, Gant?’

‘Beg pardon, ma’am. Mister Marco here called me to fix the VCR,’ he explained.

I looked at Marco. ‘Yeah, something’s wrong with it.’ I gestured to Gant to enter. When Gant came forward to check the machine, Marco merely folded his long legs underneath him. I maintained my slouch against his shoulder.

Gant tinkered with the recalcitrant machine for a long time. Finally he looked up at us. ‘Gotta get some other parts from the store tomorrow. Nothing I can do here.’

‘That’s alright then. No hurry,’ assured Marco. Gant sat on his heels, looking at Marco, who looked at him eventually, eyebrows raised.

‘I also wondered…’ he hesitated.

‘What?’ asked Marco.

‘I always wondered how big it was for you people…’ I could see Marco had his eyebrows in his hairline by now. And I was amazed that he actually looked interested.

‘Could I…’ continued the hesitant Gant.

‘Look? Sure,’ answered Marco, who proceeded to lift up the ends of his bathrobe, opening his thighs wider.

Gant gasped in admiration. His lips moved like a goldfish and when he finally said, ‘May…’ Marco said, ‘Yes.’

With a moan like a suppliant given a gift from God, he bent his curly head to take Marco’s dick into his mouth. Marco threw his head back in rapture and moaned. Encouraged by the moan, Gant began to suck harder.

While it was a hot scene, I groaned at their lack of modesty, especially with Gant being my employee and Marco so flagrantly enjoying the worship of my employee on his knees. Marco weakly turned his head to catch me covering my head with my hands and said pantingly, ‘Yes, do go out, dear.’

See. I forgot that my dear Marco was gay. And I suspect that Marco must have spied my Gant in the hallway fixing the lamp for me. Gant was not too bad looking. Curly-headed with a nice hint of a goatee and a nice butt when I so inclined to follow him once in a while.

I crawled from where I was to the door and squeezed myself out, only opening the door slightly, and then closing it behind me. With sounds of moaning and sighing I got up to walk to the gardens.

The time was only 7-ish. Still bright. I wandered my vegetable and fruit garden. Then I walked over the parlour lawn to the clearing, which spread over a span of 100 acres before blending into the forest. In the waning light, the sunrays fell onto the waterlogged land. Where I was standing, the water only reached my ankles. I looked out and stood in awe, at the inter-switching blue-green turquoise hues of the water on spring green grassland.

A decade ago, the water level had finally risen to take over the lands. Those further inland only had ankle-high waterland, while those closer to the coast and oceans had waist-high waterland. Despite the overspill from the oceans, the water inland was clean and clear, with a tinge of blue reflected from the skies.

My estate was near the coast and I enjoyed walking out to wade till the water was thigh-high. As I wandered outwards, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone joining me. I turned and saw that it was my old beau Sam. Long ago he had announced his affections, but I was not interested in tying myself to a man, which he respected but still maintained proximity with me. At our ages of 50-ish (he) and 40-ish (I) we continued to accompany each other to certain functions and are very close.

At that moment, I could take a turn, and appreciate the beauty and wonder that surrounded me. I touched a slim tree, its roots and bark so white and clear in the water.

There were Christmas trees, surrounded by oaks, ferns, and maples. Occasionally a fair breeze sighed through the verdant leaves and the clouds seemed to hang low to touch the tips of the Christmas trees.

There were no chirping birds; they had gone to their nests all. The air was still and quiet, waiting for the light to wink out, waiting for Serena to cover the earth with her cloak of midnight wonder. There was a peace, immeasureable. In that moment, I knew that I was truly at home, and I desperately wanted, prayed, that it remained so.


And I woke, and wondered, if what I had glimpsed was the Elysian Fields.