Philip goes to Louisiana hoping to recuperate from the devastating loss of an important case and ultimately his job. He checks in to an ante-bellum mansion for some R&R and is quickly swept into an erotic dream of a past life and a great and enduring love. During a violent storm Philip must choose between the present moment and the past as his great love reaches out to him from beyond the end of time.
A sudden gust of wind caused the curtains to billow like white sails and extinguished the candles on the table. The rumble of thunder obscured my cry of alarm. I shook myself. God, I was coming unhinged! The wine, my steamy dream, the sight of Etienne naked on the lawn, all combined to fill me with a tingling sense of urgency which I could neither define nor ignore. When I crossed unsteadily to the French doors, the curtains sprang to life again, wrapping me in their silken folds. Panicked, I thrust out my arms and tried to push them aside.
In pulling free of the draperies, I wrenched the heavy brass rod which held them away from the wall. It crashed noisily against the mahogany sideboard and sent a tray of decanters to a sudden and violent end. I stumbled out onto the broad veranda. As my eyes struggled to adjust to the velvet gloom of the warm Louisiana night, the lightning flashed again, closer now, and again I saw him. He looked directly at me, hands outstretched, his big prick curved mightily up against his washboard gut. His balls dangled heavily, swaying back and forth between his thighs as he moved toward me.
“Ambrose,” he called, his voice uncertain, supplicating. “Come with me, Ambrose. It’s so lonely here. Please come.”
“Etienne?” I was unsure of what was happening, only aware of the weirdness and sensuality of it all. For one fleeting moment, I hesitated. His dark eyes flashed, skewered me, took away any thought of flight. I was so horny I could hardly breathe. I had been ever since I woke up from my nap. My wet dream had only served to make me more ravenous for sex, for the touch of Etienne’s hands against my skin.
I tore at my clothes as I stumbled across the grass, kicking off my shoes, almost falling as I fought my way free of my trousers. I tore my shirt open and threw it aside as I reached the place where he stood and waited for me. I stood before him, trembling and naked. His touch was like electricity on my skin. He stroked slowly down my neck, over my broad chest, pinching my nipples hard between his fingers, drawing me closer, till our cocks crossed like two silk sheathed swords. His long cock rubbed up against my belly and left a thin trail of glistening slime in its wake.
Our bodies pressed together from belly to knee, my flesh hot, fevered, his cool and soothing to the touch. I clasped his narrow waist as we continued to grind against each other, prick mashed against prick, pubic bushes—black and golden—tangled inextricably together. Finally, he released his grip on my tits, only to lower his head to my chest and continue his ecstatic torture of the tender flesh with his teeth. His big hands grasped my butt and forced the muscular cheeks wide apart. He probed my crack with his long, thick fingers. I clasped my hands around the strong column of his neck, lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist.
The lightning flashed again, then the heavens opened. The warm rain poured over us in torrents, totally obscuring the big house behind us from view. It plastered our hair flat against our skulls and cooled my fevered body. Etienne pressed his lips to mine, his long tongue tickling against the roof of my mouth. I bit down gently and savored the taste and texture of him. He probed my ass hole, his strong fingers slipping deep into the yielding channel.
