Heavenly Body
By Bart Vogelzang


The sun was shining brightly; the air crisp and clear. Autumn in the mountains is the best season of the year, with the smell of fallen aspen leaves mingling with the scent of disturbed earth, the product of nightly frost and daytime warming. In each shadow is the shimmer of frost, even at 2 in the afternoon.

I wandered slowly down the gentle trail from the Valley of the Five Lakes and picked my way through the tall brown grasses of the Buffalo Prairie, a wondrous section of Jasper National Park that few locals even know about. Lodgepole pine stands, patches of kinnikinnick and total tranquility reigned. The occasional raven gave a distant raucous call, others answering briefly from even further afield. Zephyr breezes brushed my hair and I was happy.

They were slow to come to my awareness, as I wandered about, looking at the fascinatingly delicate beauty of the lichens and berries at my feet; elk. And not just one or two, as one might expect to see, but hundreds. Fall is rutting season for elk, and it is not uncommon to hear the bugling challenges of bulls; and see small harems of cows, each jealously guarded by a large male. But this was different. The Prairie was almost filled with cows, and even stranger, bulls; none of them guarding a harem. They were quietly standing, only a few munching the grasses. An eerie calm held sway over the tableau, and that’s when I saw him.

He was seated on a slight rise near the edge of the field; a nearly naked man. Long lovely golden locks cascaded onto his shoulders, his skin tanned and glowing all the way down to his waist, and his bare legs beyond. Seated in a classic lotus meditation position, he was unmoving except for the slightest slow intake of breath. Swimmer’s build was a perfect description, with no bulging muscles showing anywhere; just smooth, lithe lines. His legs were hairless and he was seated on slight rise of ground, wearing only a pair of khaki shorts; brown sandals neatly placed nearby.

I couldn’t help myself. I had no control at all. I slowly sat down on a fallen tree, watching this heavenly body; watching perfection at rest. Carefully, slowly, with a bit of wonder, I stripped off my own shirt. The gentle caress of the warm breeze stroked my nipples to hardness in an instant. It didn’t take long for the rest of me to follow suit. I closed my eyes, imagining that beautiful body being held in my arms, the warm and supple skin soothing me, his scent putting me over the edge. My feeling of bliss was suddenly complete, and I slipped from reality.

Drifting in the wind, I approached him, and he smiled. With incredible delicacy, he unwound himself and drifted upward, meeting me in a light embrace. His touch, light and loving, was beyond my understanding. His simple touch felt like the most powerful orgasm, without letup. We flowed around each other in an aerobatic pirouette, and slowly came together in a chaste kiss, as the elk watched from below.

Eventually, gently, we sank back, and he returned to his place on the rise, once again in the meditation position. I was drawn back, and I slowly opened my eyes, only my nipples were hard, now from the cold. The sun had dipped below the trees, and it was markedly chilly. I was surprised, compelled to check the time. 3 hours had passed! I had no idea I had dreamt that long.

Quickly putting on my shirt, I approached the gorgeous man, still sitting peacefully despite the now cold air. There wasn’t a single goose bump on his skin. It still glowed, despite the deepening shade. I wanted to ask him if he wanted to head into town with me, but he seemed uninterruptible. I turned away, to leave him to his peace, when I heard a deep, rich voice. “Thank-you for soaring with me, friend.” His voice is now forever etched into my mind.

This story is based on a true incident, the only fiction being the spoken bit at the very end.
© Bart Vogelzang 2008. All Rights Reserved