Shifters: Encounter by the loch

Sometimes, the way a story comes is totally unexpected.

I had read about Scottish folklore and came upon the myth of a creature that is supposed to live in water. This creature would occasionally come out to lure unwary travellers to their death before eating them. This kind of stuck with me and I wrote a fragment of text as a personal exercise. It came out ok, good enough to show a friend of mine to ask an opinion. This friend responded half jokingly by saying that it wouldn't work if the traveller was gay. I soberly took the manuscript from him and had a go at rewriting it,

and it turned out that he was right.

We had been meaning to visit Scotland for a number of years before we finally got the chance. Work commitments and other things conspired against us. In fact we didn’t have a proper holiday at all. The last one I was on was before I met my partner. An 18 to 30 Spanish romp. I am not going to tell you what end of the qualification I was at at that time, but needles to say it was a while ago.

Anyway, I had always fancied visiting our kin up north, Edinburgh especially. My partner had gone to University there and had waxed lyrical about the place, so why not stay a few days?

Josh was happy to go back to his old haunts, and the more we discussed it, the more it made sense. He got more and more exited as we discussed it, talking about the old streets, the architecture (he is an architect) the playhouse and the shows there, which I wasn’t very interested in, but his memories were infectious, and various other things which the capital city could offer a gay couple. These I was interested in, but I must admit, the history and myth of the place attracted me as well. It would be a good stop over for a day or two

or three or four..

we stayed longer than we intended. My fault I must admit, that and a new found love of the theatre. I made up for a lifetime of ignorance, going to about five or six shows. I think Josh got a bit bored after the fourth, but he seemed happy that I had found the charm of a live show. In fact I know he was. He put up with my convert rantings with good humour and a silent smile, one of the few times I have known him to keep quiet for any length of time.

Edinburgh was an education for me. I felt culturally enriched, glad that we had stuck to our guns this year and made the trip. I arrived here an ignoramus and left with new interests and some books on mythology and history. Josh joked that this was going to be the worst honeymoon in recorded history, and I told him to shut the fuck up.

The journey north passed in mutual contentment.

It was getting late when we arrived at our destination. The light was fading to that low liquid glow that you only seem to get this far up. As an artist I always noticed this sort of thing, just as Josh noticed buildings. I suppose it comes with the territory. In this instance though, far from being inspired I made a weary mental note to take some pictures for later projects. Tiredness was overcoming us both. The castle didn’t even draw comment from my partner, as it usually would. All we wanted at the moment was a bite to eat and bed. Tomorrow would be plenty of time for stuff like that.

It took us a while to get to sleep. After eating we somehow found the energy to stay up a while longer, although we did lie in each others arms, it would have been a crime to close ones eyes and miss the spectacular light show playing outside, the edelrich neon in the sky playing its tune of silence on a backdrop of the infinite. This was turning out to be a honeymoon of sorts after all.

As with Edinburgh, we stayed longer than we intended. It was a relaxing, soothing experience. We talked a lot about everything and nothing, just basking in the beauty of the place. During the day we walked along the shore of the Loch, each one different as the weather changed dramatically from sunshine to stormy, then to sulky. That day was overcast and miserable. Our spirits stayed high though. At that point we had more of less agreed to marry there. Josh, being the organiser of the pair went to speak to management while I took my by then customary stroll down to the shore where I could read if I wanted to, my current interest Scottish folklore and mythical beasties.

In retrospect maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, considering what happened later, but at that point, as I said, we were happy, and had decided to make things official.

I didn’t stay long at my reading area, the rain had started, the wind off the water bringing the temperature of said down to icy. And had come back early to find Josh still in conference with management. So I waited in the lobby for him, getting some reading in before he finally emerged from the main office, thunderclouds on his brow. I asked him what was wrong as we walked back to our room, although I could more or less guess what had happened. And I was not disappointed.

He told me that the manager had spent most of the time fluffing about, before checking the functions diary and announcing that the thing was full for the next four years. I kissed him and reassured him that it didn’t matter if points went to the homophobes, the important thing was that we were here, together, and nothing would change that. He concurred, grudgingly. I told him the manager was a bastard and he burst out laughing. He agreed, kissed me back and pulled me into the room, banging the door shut.

That night we fell asleep soundly, after a long conversation on the situation, and a mutual agreement to leave the next day, stealing as much of the hotel stuff that we could get away with.

I awoke sometime during the night, not sure what had disturbed my sleep so, but fully aware.

Laying there for a while, I waited for whatever for whatever had awoken me to happen again. Nothing but stillness met my curiosity.

Pissed off I got up, careful not to awaken Josh, who was snoring gently, as usual.

I hated mysteries, especially when there is no reason for one.

Checking the entire room I could find no reason for what had happened. I didn’t feel gassy or full, so that ruled out any internal disturbance. The window was shut tight, external disturbances; scratch out.

So that left only the room, which, was as far as I had checked; fine.

Agitated, and not a small bit angry with myself for getting spooked I decided that the best way to get myself calmed down was to get some fresh air.

After getting dressed and ready to go I paused only to write Josh a note, letting him know where I was. It wasn’t the first time I had taken a nocturnal stroll, as was my habit, something to do with the artistic temperament, or so I am told. Anyway, if it is or isn’t I wrote him the note and left, taking the key card with me, front inside pocket of my jacket, as habit would have me.

By the time I had entered the lobby I was actually in a pretty good mood. Perhaps it was the prospect of night air filling my lungs, cleaning them out from the stuffiness of the room, or maybe just because. I Don’t know, but the gravel crunch under foot as I left the front door, leaving a tired faced desk clerk behind, felt good to the point of purposely grinding my heels as I walked right up to the edging that separated the driveway and the grass leading into the woods where I knew the path to be.

In a story I might lose my way, coming to the are where I walked before, finding everything unfamiliar and scary. No such thing. Being a seasoned night walker I found the path with no problem at all and followed it in the direction of the loch, which, would be even easier to find because of the soft cold wind blowing off it as it had earlier.

So I found the path and the lake unmolested and in one piece.

I also found something else there.

In one of the books I had been reading I had found a myth about a water dwelling spirit that lures travellers to their death in the freezing dark depths of the loch. General agreement was that this spirit was female, but I guess that if anyone who had been gay had come across such a creature would either be dead, or would keep mouth shut less anyone found out.

What I saw was defiantly male.

I watched him from my hiding place in the bushes as he made his way down to the water. The magnificent stud, muscles moving softly under olive tanned skin that stretched so smoothly over his bare chest and thighs.

I could feel myself becoming aroused as he knelt down by the waterside and cupped water in his hands to splash over his face. His bottom; so pert and juicy, moving under his shorts, getting tighter, showing every curve and dip between his divine cheeks.

He splashed some more water over himself, neck, shoulders, arms, chest and flat belly. I noticed that some of the water had darkened the front of his shorts, tighter now, making his curving bulge stand out even more, my own nearly matching it.

I slid my hand in front of my own shorts, fingers sliding over and down my shaft, feeling the blood pulse through vein to the swollen tip. I slipped my foreskin back and rubbed myself with my thumb, almost buckling my knees as a wave of pure sensation shot through my pulsing testicles deep into my stomach. If I wasn't careful I was going to come there and then.

So I drew my hand back, and instead wrapped my forefinger and thumb around the base of my root, gently massaging myself there as I continued to watch on.

Now I could see his cute chestnut bum in all it's glory. I Had seen many men’s bums before, but this! This was indeed a prize. A hairless sculpture that could have been Mitchell Angelo's David. Now I was glad my hand was where it was, or I would have spurted all over myself. I stopped and gave my plums a gentle pull to calm down a bit. This treasure I wanted more of. I wanted his meat.

I didn't have long to wait. It was there before me, before he had fully turned around, his pride revealed itself. I felt a thrill tremble through me, my body quivering at the sight of it, erect, the tip reaching higher than his belly button in a long curving three inch thick arc. I suddenly felt something give in me, he was looking in my direction!, Looking at me as if he had known I was there all along smiling. Beckoning. I just could not believe it! I was getting the come on. He turned slightly, presenting, legs slightly apart so that his own testicles dangled – or should that be swung! Below. Well below! What had I done to deserve this angel? Who did I have to kill?

Coming out from behind the bush I made my way down to the waters edge, pulling at my own clothes as I reached the sandy shore. The angel maintained a distance between us, beckoning all the time as the water level rose above his knees, then his well shaped calves. He didn't even flinch as the cold water reached the dangling part of his groin (the oh!zone) and continued to rise over his tanned manhood. He slowed as I gingerly entered the water.

Perhaps he could see my apparent eagerness, or probably more likely to tease. He licked his lips and drew his finger down his neck with one hand while the other caressed the softness of his inner thigh, a mischievous glint in his eye all the while, making my heart pound harder, the desire thickening my blood, my head, the top spinning off as I went mad with desire, feeling faint, falling forward...

The shock as the icy cold water struck my own oh zone.

I came to, still standing, now up to my chest in water, no one else in sight. Looking around, in the now dim light of the pre dusk, I searched for him, the angel deliverer who, not a moment before had been five feet away from me, in vain it seemed, for he was nowhere to be seen. I entertained the notion for a moment that he might have drowned in the water as I myself fell, but it seemed ridiculous somehow.

Disappointed and a bit nonplussed I made my way back to shore, feeling a bit of a pie for letting my own foolish desires get the better of me. It had all seemed too good to be true, and it had been.

By the time I had reached the shore I had all but convinced myself that it had not happened, just a figment of my own overheated imagination.

That was when the howling started.

It was a sound, the likes of which I have never heard before. If it had been a wolf, then it was a wolf with grizzly somewhere in it's ancestry.

The only thing I could think of to do was to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible, never mind the clothes, just grab them and run. Which was exactly what I did. I ran like the wind, branches whipping me and acorns and all sorts of other shit digging into my bare feet. I am also ashamed to add that I may have wet myself, but at that moment in time I never noticed. Did not matter anyway, I was naked, full front swinging as I ran (and not fully tamed I might add. It was exhilarating as well as scary) right up to the point when something hit me square in the forehead and knocked me out.

The perils of running in the dark.

I awoke later. How much later I don’t know, in my bed. My partner snoring gently beside me. After the initial disorientation it all fell into place. The sheer dreamlike quality of it all. Why hadn't I thought of that before? I don't suppose anyone does at the time they are having the dream.

Still, it had left an impression on me.

Nature beckoned, so I heeded the call and got up to use the bathroom, sleepily urinating in the pan and not noticing the gritty footprints I was leaving in my wake, or the thick milky dribble that was only just now beginning to make it's way down the inside of my leg. A wetness that was full of minerals. Like a loch.