?

Seb blushed and whispered, ''I would you like to be,'' and slowly returned her kiss. His sunburn was mostly healed, but there was still patches of evidence. ''I, I, I was thinking,'' he began humbly. ''I don't often think. I submerge every experience in an ecstacy of feeling, and never examine anything. I think this is what gets me in trouble.''

Gwen turned to face him. She'd always found Seb sexy, in his sensuous sinuous gracefulness. There was a sensitivity within him he'd not explored. Maybe now was his moment to do so. Seb's long slender fingers stroked her shoulder rhythmically. ''I've been thinking about my past, my early past when I was a child. Images come to me and shake me out of my daze. Something is demanding attention. I was an only child. I never had interactions with other children. My father had a tutor for me.

''But I never paid much attention to his efforts. I would have taught my own son John better, had I listened. But I sat in his classroom, which was in one of our large houses many rooms, daydreaming. I'd stare out the window, not even hearing the man. It must have been very frustrating for him. I just sat there dreamily, smiling at nothing in particular.

''Why was I so distracted? I believe the expression of today for this is 'zoned out'. I was never 'present to the moment' when in the classroom. There were only rare times in childhood in which I was completely attentive . . .''

Seb broke his narrative to shift position for comfort, and then re-entered it, ''There is one consuming presence of my childhood which I've never told anyone about. I've kept it secret, which is what the man wanted. Quite often, after spending time with me, he'd touch his finger to my lip and whisper, 'This is just our little secret!'

''And then he'd leave to go attend to his duties as butler. No one else paid any attention to where he was spending his free time. Jerold was an ugly man, ugly in an exciting sort of way. Why did I find him exciting? He was scary, too. Oh, he was so scary. He'd sneak into my room at night, and slither in beside me.

''These were my earliest memories. Jerold slithering into my bed. It began before the tutor came, I must have been four or five, and continued off and on until I left home. He had a way of breathing all over me . . .'' Sebastian trembled in remembrance and continued, ''He had a way of breathing all over me, and tickling me. He began with the tickles. Always it was the tickles.

''He'd start with my cheeks, under my chin, tickling my waist and legs. He'd tell me 'Don't laugh. Keep quiet.' And I dare not utter a word. Then he'd move to that space between my legs. I was horrified, but kept silent as he commanded. He gave me frightening electric chills, and then he'd kiss me. He'd always do that, mix the pleasure with the pain. As the years went by, the pleasure got more intense, as well as the pain.

''He knew how to make me delirious. He'd slap me into a state of delirium, and then kiss me almost nearly out of it. I was frightened of him, but I never protested anything he did. I never told anyone, until now.''

Gwen interrupted, ''That was abuse, you do know that now, don't you?'' Seb looked confused, as he re-entered his remembrance, ''Abuse? Sometimes I knew it as such, when he frightened me. But he also excited me. He so totally absorbed my whole childhood consciousness, I had no energy left for anything else.

''I wasn't able to concentrate on anything that teacher said. When my father grew angrier and angrier at me for failing in my studies, I just looked at him, barely comprehending. He frightened me as well. Only he never gave any hint of approval. Jerold had his ways of showing approval.

''I pleased him with my silence, with my yielding to what ever he did to me. The way he would smile at me, as I looked at him told me so. I craved his approval. I was lonely, and Jerold was at least paying me attention. I wanted his smiles. I craved his smiles. So I laid there quietly while he did increasingly odd things to me. I'd tremble afterwards, hoping for his kind embrace, his kiss to soothe me.

''As long as I was quiescent, he never failed in the kisses. It was the kisses I lived for. I wanted his soft lips on my mouth. It was the only thing that said things were alright. And after the terribly intense things, he would return to the kisses. I've never told anyone.

''I left home and never told anyone. I never imagined what would happen if I revealed our little secret. Jerold had led me to think it would be dire. But I was dependant on his approval and I did nothing to risk disapproval. So I laid there night after night, while he did various and sundry things to me. I was his student, in a way, too.

''Thus it is from him I have learned the behaviour in which I've always engaged. I can't go without a lover. It doesn't matter what sort of person, just anyone who will give me attentions of that kind. It frightens me, the thought of being alone. I don't know how Michael did it, all those decades, alone with his thoughts and those books. I'd go mad!

''Maybe I already am mad. Maybe it's why I'm never satisfied. I go from one lovely flower to the next, always seeking Jerold. Women can be demanding in that way, too. Somehow I got the distinct message, 'It's only when I'm engaged in such pleasure pursuits that I have any worth.' But then I would have no mental energy for anything else. How could I come to 'know myself' the way you and Michael do?

''Heck, Sonya knows herself better than I know myself. Two hundred and seventy years of stupid mistakes, and I've never explored ANY of it in depth! I don't know how to start!''

Gwen stroked his beautiful hair and whispered, ''I believe you've started very well. You're getting insight into the childhood events that have conditioned your every action since.''

Seb protested, ''But I don't know if I can do anything about my realizations. I might be doomed to helplessly repeat my behavior over and over.'' And he shivered again. Gwen kissed him tenderly, ''You do know you always have a friend in me! You can always turn to me . . .'' Seb began to cry, as Gwen continued caressing him. He had no idea where the process of self-examination would lead him. It frightened him and he was grateful for Gwen's kisses and embraces. He truly lived for kisses and embraces.

''I hate sometimes that that I'm the way I am. I can't ever be self-possessed. I've been the slut and don't know how not to me. It scares me that a part of me never wants to be anything else. Shall I be, century after century, the never satisified slut? I don't know. I know I was able to give those women pleasure and comfort. Maybe there's merit in that. I'm very confused. I'm very confused. I don't think I can straighten this out . . .''

His voice trailed off, as Gwen assured him, ''If you never sort this out, if you're always the restless playboy, I love you. I love you just the way you are. You don't have to do anything to change yourself. If change should result because of your self-exploration, I'll embrace that, too. I love you JUST THE WAY YOU ARE! Do you understand that?'' And she made sure she had contact with his deep emerald green eyes.

Seb's mouth widened as he looked into her oddly golden eyes. ''Yes! I do so not want to screw with the relationship I have with you, Michael and everyone. You are the only people who've gotten close enough to me to see past the surface stuff.'' And he sobbed again, ''I don't want to screw that up. I don't want to screw that up.''

She embraced him, stroking his red hair and whispered, ''I have confidence in you. I believe in you. You won't screw the trust we have.'' And she held out her hands to Sebastian, grabbing his hands. He let her take them, as though he were being led to safety. He would let her confidence lead him. He was the willing and happy follower.

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