Just feel... just feel...

The dark strands of Winny's hair were like silk through his fingers. His clothes felt soft — good-quality fabric &mdash beneath Natty's touch, his hand at the other's waist. And his lips... they were indistinguishable from a woman's in Natty's opinion, soft and full, with no graze of stubble around him, Winny was simply his very own phenomenon. Somewhere in the churning depths of his mind, Natty wondered if this was not so much homosexuality as Winnysexuality.

Instinctively, his lips parted. The kiss deepened. Then the older man grew cautious and concerned, and drew back a little; but this time did not step back from the embrace. "What do we do now", he asked his young guide quietly.