Morning Song

Michael was a creature of habit. His life consisted of a series of daily events vital to his sense of well being. The formula for a good day began with his boyfriend Amid waking him up with an early morning blowjob.

Amid was always up, cock included, long before the usual nine to fivers, tracking down the latest world events for his news magazine. The Arab language publication was his way of bridging the worlds that he loved equally. It was his vehicle for ringing a new consciousness to the world and through tolerance and understanding to make it all a better place.

By the time that his dark head slipped between Michael's legs seeking milk, he had already downed two cups of strong black coffee. Michael loved their morning rituals, the gentle kisses and slow, wet cock sucking. Fucking was much too harsh for the gentleness of early morning. A new morning always brought with it a basket full of new possibilities. The New York air somehow seemed fresher. The radio always played your favorite songs and singing along in the shower was pure heaven.

The workday began with the morning paper from Sal who had been operating the same newsstand for forty years. He pursued the headlines over coffee and bagels at Mario's. Unless he was having a business lunch Michael always bought a hot dog from the same stand that he had as a kid.

He was a stickler for tradition and the values of life, liberty and the pursuit of anything that made him happy. However, it was not a good morning for Amid. It had begun with an e-mail report from a correspondent of another bombing in Afghanistan. Killed in the attack was a three-year-old girl that Amid had nick named Phoenix because she had been at deaths door with cholera too many times and had lived to tell about it.

Now her little voice was silenced forever by Al Qaeda in a senseless act of violence. Few would remember her short life but her optimistic spirit had been one of few in a country that had seen more than its share of pain.

He had mourned for her in the only way that he knew how, by numbing his pain with Michael's stiff cock and strong arms. Their easy love sessions always soothed him and it was much easier to shed his tears through his cock.

He rode his Harley to work except when the weather forced him into the seemingly impossible task of finding a cab at morning rush hour. Still he loved the city with its unpredictable splendor.

He loved that his job not only gave him access to the city's Muslim population but also a welcome mat into an exciting exodus of nations all bonded in the commonality of the American dream.

It was that dream that had forced his family out of Afghanistan when he was four years old. They had done well for themselves in America even putting aside their strict moral code to embrace him as a gay man.

Nevertheless, a part of Amid had never left Afghanistan. It kept pulling him back every year in trips that broke his heart but reinforced his commitment to fight for its survival.

It was exactly 8: 45 when Michael sat down at his desk to begin the day. A few minutes later, a loud bang reverberated and the entire building shook so badly it made his teeth rattle.

His first reaction was that an earthquake had hit. But when smoke began spiraling into every corner, he knew that it was much worse. People began panicking and running for the suddenly stalled elevators.

The events that led him out of the building would forever be blurry to Michael. He remembered the fire, the sickening twist of softened metal. He remembered calling 911 and debris falling from the ceiling all around him.

He remembered pulling a screaming woman towards the stairwell and both of them praying to God to take them safely out of their sudden nightmare. It seemed like days before he felt the wind on his face, charred and reeking of fear, yet sweet because at least he was still breathing.

Amid was on the phone when his research editor burst in.

"Turn on CNN," his voice quivered so horribly that it took a few seconds before Amid had understood what he was saying.

He flipped on the TV while trying to end his call and trying to find what was wrong at the same time. When his confused brain finally made sense of the report words failed him. The phone slipped unnoticed from his numb fingers. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

He left his chair and forced his legs outside. The extent of his fear for the life of his beloved weighed him down. It made him sick to his stomach. He carried that fear in his heart as he rushed to the scene. A block away from the bombing he watched in stupefied amazement as Tower One collapsed. Amid the confusion, he had no way of knowing if Michael was still trapped inside.

Then he got a call from Michael saying that he was at the hospital.

"I've got nothing more than scrapes and bruises," he assured Amid. "But Jack is in real bad shape," he added referring to the happy- go- lucky soul who had introduced them at a Christmas party three years earlier.

Amid and Jack were childhood friends who had been brought even closer as they got older by Jack's unrepentant flamboyant personality. He had been Michael's lifeline when he had first joined the stressful world of high stakes investments.

His voiced cracked as he relayed their friends' bad news. "He's burned over eighty-percent of his body. I think that you should get to mount Sinai real quick."

As he drove like the devil was on his tail Amid recalled how Jack's upbeat personality had gotten them through many hardships. He mantra was that things would always work out.

But right then it was hard to believe that anything would ever be all right again. Could he be optimistic when he felt dead inside? He would have to muster up some courage for Jack's sake.

It would take all of their strength to get him through the rough times ahead. The emergency room was in chaos. Amid found Michael sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. Bryan, Jack's boyfriend was crying silently in a corner. Amid gave him a long hug and encouraging words.

Then he sank down beside his lover and took Michael in his arms. It was hours before they moved, hours before they heard any news about Jack. The prognosis was not good.

"If you are at all spiritual this is the time to pray," the doctor told them.

They thanked him but both men felt that their faiths were now buried under countless mangled bodies.

When they finally got home, they were met by family and friends who needed assurances that they were okay. By the time that the last person left Amid was beside himself with frustration.

He attacked Michael before the door was closed. He grabbed his cock from behind and squeezed it roughly through the material of his sweatpants. Michael felt Amid stiff cock pressing into his ass.

Michael sighed and sank further into Amid's hard body as he rubbed his cock against him. It felt so good to hold each other close after all that had happened. How could life change so much in just one day? Michael wondered.

He turned in his lover's arms and their mouths impacted in a hungry kiss. They tried frantically to remove their clothes and touch and taste every inch of exposed flesh. Michael pulled Amid's jeans down to his knees then knelt in front of him and buried his face in the soft cotton boxer-briefs restraining his monster cock.

He rubbed his face against it and inhaled its overheated aroma. Then he began to suck him in big, wet gulps that saturated the front of his boxers. To Amid the feel of the wet cloth against his cock was heaven. He bent his knees and pushed his hips forward.

Michael bit him through the safety of the briefs. Then slowly he began to slide it down Amid slim hips. When his cock finally popped out Amid screamed in relief. Greedily Michael took most of his ten inches into his mouth and began sucking like there was no tomorrow.

His mouth moved to Amid heavy balls. He gave them a few wide licks with his tongue before devouring them. After only a few minutes of this sweet torture, Amid pleaded with him to stop. It was too soon for sweet release.

He dropped to his knees and buried his tongue in Michael's mouth. He grabbed the sides of Michael's head and tried to convey the myriad of emotions running through his soul in a way that mere words never could.

The events of the day exploded in Michael's head. His entire body shook as he recalled how the mighty towers had crumbled, taking with it the hopes and dreams of so many lives.

Suddenly he burst into tears. He cried for the lives lost and the ones who had lost them. He cried for Jack and Bryan his lifetime partner who was probably still at his bedside begging God to give them at least a lifetime together.

Amid tried to comfort his lover with tender kisses. He could not allow himself to revisit those terrifying hours. He had to be strong for Michael. Instead, he chose to drown his fears around the hard candy between Michael's legs.

His frantic sucking caused Michael's eyes to roll back into his head. He grabbed Amid's hair as a tornado of release swept through his entire body. His body shook violently propelling his cock further into Amid mouth.

He cried and cursed as he came long and hard. Amid opened his mouth wide as hot cum gushed out. There was little time for Michael to catch his breath before he was down on all fours with Amid fingers in his ass.

It did not take long for his hole to crave more than fingers. Amid impaled him with his hard cock. They were soon lost in a frenzied fuck that rendered them speechless. Amid dug his fingers into Michael's shoulders and bulldozed into his ass without mercy.

All too quickly, he was exploding, letting go of everything until he was walking on sunshine. For those brief moments, the entire world was right again. His cum exploded out of him, taking with it his fears and frustrations.

He lay peacefully for a few moments, his body completely relaxed, his mind was six years old again at his grandparents summer cottage with the smell of apple pie leading him home from his daily adventures.

Life had been so simple then, innocent and idealistic. He wanted to feel that childhood joy forever but a walk down memory lane is always fleeting. He cried out as he felt it pulling away from him.

Like a heroin addict, they needed that fix again. They stumbled to the bedroom. Michael pulled a giant mahogany dildo from under the bed and handed it to Amid.

"Fuck me so hard that I forget my own name," he pleaded.

Amid rolled a condom on the "woodie" then opened a tube of their favorite lube and made sure that Michael's ass and the dildo were ready for the whipping that was to come.

Carefully he smeared it into Michael's hole. Michael buried his face in the pillow. He held his breath as the warm toy kissed his ass cheeks. Slowly and gently, Amid slipped it inside his hole.

Michael groaned like a caged animal as his ass opened up and said ahh! Tenderly Amid worked the cock to Michael's instructions. When his threshold climbed above the gentle motions Michael encouraged Amid to push harder.

The wooden dick turned his insides into jell-o. The strokes became desperate and longer, pushing further and further until it pushed Michael over the edge. This time his body tensed as his release shattered inside of him.

He collapsed onto the bed. His ass was lucid and open, ready for the only thing that could satisfy his desires. Their slippery bodies slipped into a sixty-nine. They played with each other's cocks until their bodies were once again trembling with desire. Michael reached into a drawer and pulled out two latex gloves. They each slipped one on then carefully lubed them.

Then one at a time, they inserted their fingers into each other's relaxed hole. Slowly they pushed further until each was wrist deep in each other's asses. With closed fists, they plowed into each other. A warm odor surrounded them in a cocoon of love.

Michael's manly juices oozed from between his ass and slipped into Amid open mouth. They barely felt the tension in their straining bodies as their souls transcended the physical into a world that made them cry with pleasure.

The intensity of their release made them rigid; every fiber of their bodies was stretched to its limits. They came back to earth with screeching cries that shattered the night. Michael fell on top of Amid battered body.

When they could finally move Amid took Michael in his arms. Michael felt so comforted in having Amid so close to him that he soon fell into a deep sleep.

Then with nothing more than an airbrushed retelling of that horrific day the two men tried to move on with their lives. Their daily vigil at their sick friend's bedside was more than enough misery without them rehashing their own pain.

But life had always found a way of unveiling the things that you seclude most whether it was being gay or being racists. There was a lot of racism- by- fear after the attack. Certain friends who knew about Amid criticisms of the U S government policies in the Middle East readily deemed him suspect.

His magazine had to tuck its tail between its legs after they received death threats for anything that could even be remotely construed as anti- American. But when Bush declared war in Afghanistan Amid refused to be silenced.

It angered him that he'd been reduced to a second class citizen in his own country, stripped of the first amendment rights that every other ethnic group was taking advantage of.

But it was the lack of support that he received from Michael that hurt the most. His pain forced him out of his comfort zone and into a confrontation with Michael.

"How could you not see that this war is a bad idea?" he asked Michael over dinner.

Michael put down his knife and fork before answering. He could see fire in Amid dark eyes and he didn't want to add fuel to it.

"Amid this war will hopefully bring some little measure of justice to all of us. I'm sure that you want that."

"Yes I want justice," Amid, stated passionately. " I want those bastards to pay for what they did, but we're going to war and we don't even know who those bastards really are. This is so much bigger than Bin Laden. I think that we have a lot more work to do before we slap on the war paint."

"Well obviously the President feels that we do have enough evidence to move," Michael said.

"But there are better ways to handle this. The Taliban would hand over Bin Laden if the United States provides proof of his involvement. How can we say that war is our only solution if we haven't tried anything else?" Amid asked.

"Because we will fight fire with fire, we cannot show these people that we are unsure of ourselves. They have to pay for what they did to us. Your problem is that you don't know whether you're American or Afghanistan."

As soon as he said it, Michael regretted it. The hurt in Amid eyes pained him but still he knew that he had spoken the truth. Amid had always been more loyal to Afghanistan than to the place that had given him everything.

Long before the terrorists attack, he was somewhat anti-American. To Michael he was like the immigrants who came to this country and refused to learn English and expected everything to become bilingual.

Amid was tired of hearing him bash everything that he believed especially his love for Afghanistan. He threw his napkin down and stood up. "It's nice to know what you really think about me," he said and walked away.

Michael refused to go after him. They needed to talk like this. If their relationship couldn't survive disagreement then maybe they were not as strong as he'd thought they were.

But the silence between them stretched into days, and then weeks while Amid pored over reports of bombs dropped on innocent lives, leaving children dead or disabled and orphaned.

Michael was saddened by the violence but he still supported the war. There were no easy answers and he wished that he could just tell Amid that their different views did not have to tear them apart.

But he seemed so unapproachable. Then life with her mysterious ways shook them out of their stupor once again. Michael got a call from Bryan urging them to get to the hospital quick.

When they got there, it was obvious that Jack was in his final moments. Still he had a smile on his face.

"He said that he's not afraid to die," Bryan related through his tears. "Our love was more than he had ever hoped for. He has had a full life. Love is all that matters."

Jack began to cry and his eyes said so much of what he couldn't anymore. Amid took Michael's hand in his. The arguments that had divided them were valid and deeply personal.

But at the end of the day, they still wanted each other and even after the war, they would hunger for each other. The most horrific war would be life without each other. As long as they were together, they could handle whatever bomb life dropped on them.

"I love you Michael," he said with tears in his eyes.

" I love you Amid," Michael said.

Jack smiled at them. Then he closed his eyes and slipped into an endless peaceful sleep.

Jack's funeral was a rather festive affair. No one had felt much like celebrating but anyone who knew Jack at all knew that he would want to die just as he had lived.

There were lots of smiles and funny memories among the tears. It was well past midnight when Amid and Michael finally made their way home. They held each other close and quickly slipped into an exhausted sleep.

Early the next morning Michael awoke to the feel of Amid's gentle tongue on his cock. The sun streaming through his window resembled strained peaches. The fresh air sang the promises of a new, hopeful beginning. This was his morning song, sweet music to his soul.