Henry Greco & Bruno Sue
- 👁 2
- ⭐ 5.0
- 💬 2
Between howls, anxieties, desires and great emotion, they live in love with their moon, the fierce wolves with passion. They could never be subtracted from the magical moon, she doesn't mind to get lost, when when she with her light invades him, and drives him crazy like no other. From the hidden shadows, two lycanthropes gestate the most forbidden adventure of all times. Henry Greco is the master. Bruno Sue, the slave. The cornfield will be the only witness to the delicious medieval love. Will they be able to survive so much fire? Can love overcome all adversities? Will these two lovers be able to live their love story?
The morning light surprised them naked under the white sheets of that unforgettable summer, you could still feel the scent of love that both lycanthropes deployed on the environment. He woke up serene and protected by his master, on the transparent curtains of the bathroom you could appreciate the succulent sculptural body, his thighs marked the perfect delicate curves of the hungry desire that he had not been able to satiate. Bruno lay down on the warm bathtub, little by little the delicious sweat of his skin was getting lost behind the rose petals that swam in that nectar of passion. The master gets up from his bed, erect with pleasure, walks slowly towards his slave, caresses his wet hair, while he subtly indicates him through a pelvic movement the soft tempest he wished to have, he seductively turns and pleases him, immobilizing him with one hand on his belly while with the other and his morbid lips and his hungry tongue massaging and sucking him, lifting him to the firmament, where he lost himself in the shooting stars of imagined love, the master lifted him by the waist and straddled him, skewering him with that burning member he had so longed for, until the volcano erupted. The rose water is abruptly splashed all over the place, the bathtub breaks letting the last petal fall on the floor, unfolded, they finish living the shocking wild seconds of that forbidden passion. The air in the room became saturated with the fragrance of semen and sweat appeared again, with the prudent violence of pleasure and the tears of love, with stifled moans, quiet laughter, desperate lunges and dying gasps that instantly turned into joyful kisses. Maybe they didn't do anything they wouldn't have done with others, but it's very different to make love while loving.
Henry is left on the wooden floor, trying to catch his breath, while Bruno, who quickly gets up again after hearing a noise at the front door, dresses himself with the few torn rags he has left, since his master would have torn them off, in the night's lust. Thinking that perhaps the moaning would have been too loud for that green field, the master also begins to dress quickly after the growing din. On the other side, someone is waiting to be attended to. From outside, the slaves of the camp murmured about this forbidden encounter. The blood on the sheets exposed the virginity they kept secret. The impure were not prepared to receive the society that would condemn them and force them to pay. The door opens without waiting, outside the crowd of whites are piling up, they are euphoric for justice, death is their only way out. Death is their only way out. Will the profane lovers be saved? Will the slave be the only lamb?
The night was the desired savior, they only had to resist, the moon would make its magical and inexplicable transformation, and that is where they would find their frontier of freedom.
The front door rumbled and they could hear the second floor window panes popping, they went down the spiral staircase that connected the second floor with the slave quarters in the basement, peeked through the service door, and out the door to the back alley, strewn with debris and ashes. Henry didn't understand where they were going since Bruno was their guide, he had never been to that place. ＜＜ Come on, run! ＞＞ shouted the slave, scared and excited by the situation, soon the imposing jungle welcomed them, it was creepy to run barefoot through there, the thorns would have made wounds on their feet that bled leaving the traces of their escape, after several kilometers, they stopped for a few seconds and Bruno, knew how to make an improvised bandage with large leaves from a tree in the countryside, they ran through the place, spiders, snakes, scorpions and demons of the flora were waiting for them in that grotesque place. Henry was afraid of not resisting, he thought of his children, not genuine, and his wife, he feared for their lives in that old vat, where his family was. But in that tubulose moment of his life, he would never have been so happy, he would never have felt so much adrenaline in his whole body.
Bruno knew a mysterious house a few meters from there and he just wanted to resist, he felt he had to save the life of his beloved. But when they were arriving, an imminent and powerful rain gave them the tortuous welcome to the swampy road impregnated with mosquitoes and different insects that were hiding eager to get them, their bodies were splashed with mud, their feet hurt, their nails broken, their bodies bitten, and even Henry lost a tooth of the modular in the fast escape, his mouth was bleeding, the knees and ankles of both of them as well. They rested for a few moments, though they could hear in the distance the pack of dogs that had found them. They both looked at each other, imminent as they watched the twilight awaken, they were beginning to feel the power in their bodies, they were beginning to relive all that gave them power and even a bit of freedom. Their transformation was a fact.
Lyric of love
I'm a wolf wanting to haunt
clinging to the carnation of a dreaming attitude
dreaming of wanting to embrace him awake
dreaming of possessing him a thousand times
dreaming of telling him I love him today
I'm a sad wolf when I don't feel it
a wolf with an anthill in his heart
greedily devouring his tense arteries,
drinking from his rushing blood
walking lightly in his delirium
burrowing in its accelerated flesh
I am an unknown wolf who cries, solitary, in silence
crucified in a forest of immersed loneliness
walking, dragging the shadows of pain
going lightly to the top of a creaking rock
and marches sad as my heart of ants
I'm that wolf who gives his life to have it
self drinking from the burning veins
drop by drop
at the edge of a cup of fire and ice
running to the edge of an illusionary delirium
arriving at the end of a tunnel that dazzles
I am a sad wolf serving at your table
A plate full of tears.
This piece of werewolf
Dies tired of waiting so long
Waiting for the return of its smooth flesh
And share each sunset
contemplating smiling by my side
as the sun goes to sleep tired
and the moon waking up smiling
The stars will only be labels...
In his forties, Bruno Sue had lived through tortuous moments, moments of uncertainty and without a doubt all of them gave him the wisdom to make the best decisions, or at least that's what he tried to do. An afro descendant like him, he had not had the opportunity to choose well in his life. However, his first happy memory was when he met Henry Greco, his first love, his first illusion, his first fantasy world.
He arrived in the great America one morning in 1770, young and still an infant, chained in a cage, like a wild animal, but he was not human but a beast; or at least that is how his captors considered him. They traveled for more than a month in a huge seafaring ship. They arrived hungry, dead of thirst, they begged for water, only occasionally they could taste a few drops of it when they were silenced with buckets of rotten water, they asked to survive and their oppressors, some poorly paid mulattoes, only laughed with laughter under the effects of
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