“I can’t read this,” he said. “I don’t know your writing.”“Would you like me to teach you?” I asked.“I would.”We sat, cross-legged...on the floor, facing each other. I leaned toward him until our foreheads touched. He wrapped his antennae around my head and again I fell into a trance -- an out-of-body, floating experience. I don’t think I was under his thrall for very long -- maybe now that he knows my language, learning my writing is easier for him. Or, maybe his telepathy is better tuned into. Why couldn’t this have happened at noon, when the sun flooded into this little garden. Even now, though, he could detect the dark color of the cockhead and the paler shaft. He had unzipped his pants and pulled out his own cock, which was rod-like. It felt good to stroke it. No one could see. He momentarily glanced away from the beautiful scene below to look at the surrounding buildings. There were several windows from which his own could be seen, but they were dark. The boys were probably out. More

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