The Dove Keeper

Beauty and Freedom [1]

Once I was able to open my mind to Gerard, now that we were naked and exposed, I began to notice all the other things he was trying to teach me. It seemed like all of the actions he did had some other meaning to them; something rooted deeper than face value, something to be interpreted like art. And though I knew that I was supposed to be making those interpretations, I couldn't help but be distracted most of the time. I would be sitting and listening to him talk at the kitchen table, and then randomly zone out. I'd look off to the side and just think. It was an action so necessary and so foreign at the same time; it began to feel like I was relearning to live all over again. As if I was a newborn with fresh eyes and a sponge-like mind that could take in everything I needed, and clean off all the dirt I had accumulated before. 

I couldn't believe I was at his house. I couldn't believe I was going to be there until Monday – and that it was still only Saturday afternoon. Gerard and I essentially had so much time on our hands, even if he would never let me see a clock. The main fact that took centre stage in my mind of impossibilities unleashed was that we had had sex. And that I was still naked from it all. 

Being naked all the time really took some getting used to. It was weird feeling myself just hang out there with no support. I never liked to be constricted when I did wear clothing; I bought boxers and the loosest pants I could find, but the breathing space I gave to my skin between fabric was so much different than what was thrust upon me wearing only myself. It was almost as if I had been suffocated before, but with the removal of clothing that had been a gag, my skin really could breathe again – and now it was sucking up all the oxygen it could get. 

I felt light and ethereal at times, then weighed down and clammy the next. I became aware of how my skin folded, something I was normally (and happily) blind to. I never realized that the slight pudge I was used to feeling as I slipped on my jeans creased as much as it did. It made me feel fat at first, and I tried to wrap my arms around myself to hide my flaws. That was, until I saw the exact same markings on Gerard. His skin rolled and bunched together just like mine did. His was even worse in a way; he was older, and the skin had less elasticity. He sagged at some parts, like his thighs and legs, but it didn't turn me off. It didn't turn me on that much either, but it did something far better. 

It made me feel comfortable with my own body. I had flaws, I could see them and feel them now, but fuck, so did he. Only he didn't care about his flaws. He sat down and talked, not caring that if he hunched at a certain angle, more rolls would become visible. He didn't care about his wrinkles, or the sagging skin he had in some places. He just accepted it – flaunted it. It was amazing, empowering, and I unwrapped my arms from around my sides, exposing myself like he was. He smiled at me and continued talking, shifting his weight to the most unflattering position and just not caring about it. I couldn't do that just yet, but I was getting there.

It wasn't only when I was sitting down that I would notice the difference in my body. When I stood up and walked, everything felt like it was falling down. I didn't have the thick barrier of cloth, or even anything like a backpack to carry. I was just carrying myself, and that impossible to describe. I would walk odd at some points, totally thrown off by the new rhythm I seemed to have. I looked down as I walked, but had to stop that when all I could see was my cock moving haphazardly. I tried to avoid moving at all for the most part, but Gerard seemed to like switching the locales where we talked. There weren't many places we could go in the small apartment, but he was determined to cover them all. 

I had to walk with my head up, looking around to avoid watching my cock dangle in front of me, but even that felt like a new and unmarked territory. I always walked looking down; it was just what I did. When I walked to his apartment, I just didn't want to see the gray and drab streets of Jersey, nor did I want to see people in my high school all that much either when I ventured there. Now that I was forced to look up, it was a completely new experience, budding from a previous one. With my head up and my clothing off, I had a new skip to my step, something I couldn't place right away.