On a sultry night, seasoned with the smells of love, there was a man strutting along the street—a man clad in an elaborate purple coat. But this was not just an ordinary flamboyantly-dressed man, this was a thief—the thief of a young boy’s virginity. And upon these minstrel winds the tale is sung…


“Wake up! Wake up, you bloody little wanker!” screamed a moldy-dressed woman with an echoing falsetto.

A young boy—about fourteen in age—rolled over on his messy bed, covered in ragged bed clothes and a thick layer of dust from the dirt-laden wind storm that night. The boy, a kind-hearted person with a modest loving space (mostly on a account of his cheap, unindulgent mother who would rather spend her money on new summer sweaters for her cats) was dazzled by the ejaculation of morning light in his room, so he opened his glimmering eyes to mild negativity from his mother.

“I thought I would have to pull out the branding iron again… Now get to work! There’s hobos in the yard again,” explained the starry-eyed boy’s mother.

The boy put on his mud-licked clothing and stepped onto his family’s beet field. Upon the horizon, he could see the silhouettes of angry hobos bathed in the mid-morning light, their sexy bodies sparkling in golden rays of wonder. “Get out of here!” screamed the young boy in enticed rage.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Augusto Forey!” replied the attractive homeless man.

Augusto reached for his battle axe until he spotted something peculiar amongst the shadows of the family’s barn—a man! A man, oh so obese, smelling of antiquated French cheeses and lard-covered bacon. The detail that truly bewildered Augusto was the clothing that this majestic man was wearing. He was wearing a large, elaborate purple coat covered with oh so many pockets and a floral design, complimenting the secret treats inside.

“Heeelllooooo?” called the boy, wondering whether or not he would be treated with a little more than he bargained for. “Who are you, He-Who-Has-Haunted-My-Fantasies?”

Suddenly a wild wind flew into every orifice of the wretched barn until sparkling light appeared around the two star-crossed lovers. The aquamarine lights illuminated not only the mysterious man’s every intricate physical feature but also the young boy’s melancholic heart. Oh his heart, a narrow alleyway plagued by darkness and smelling of ice, no longer lonely. Augusto’s eyes opened wide with astonishment, turning green with the wondrous light; his heart heavy and his prostate weak.

“I have waited all my life for this day, beautiful young boy,” claimed the man in the elaborate purple coat as he drifted down upon the ground, for he just finished dazzling the boy with his majestic aerial maneuvers. “Take my hand, don’t be afraid. I will make all of your dreams come true.”

“But how can I trust you will not steal my life?” asked the boy, stepping forward slowly in curiosity.

“Oh but I do not want to steal your life. I want to steal something else…”

“Oh man in the elaborate purple coat, you have already stolen my heart.”

“As you have I, my love. However, I still desire your light, affectionate touch.”

“Well, your desire is your gain… And my weak will is my fantasy.”

With these words, the man in the elaborate purple coat withdrew his gold-lined hood in which the boy’s legs trembled with the utmost desire at the sight of his drooping orange pompadour—a pompadour as fiery as the dawn sun. And even though the man’s seduction was too much for the boy’s body to resist, his heart was still weeping by the man’s cruel words. “Shut up and take your clothes off!” the man would command. The crying soul of the boy loomed in the dark corners of the barn while the sexual splendor of the elaborately-clad man brought him through the gloom. The man in the elaborate purple coat knew very well how to ease this pain…


A moonlit sky lit the dew-covered field, small night-time creatures singing their feasting songs. Nibbling upon the whipped cream covering the boy’s chest, the mice were in heaven… just as the boy was a few minutes earlier.

“Come back to me,” asked the boy. His eyes opened, seeing that no one laid by his side. In embarrassment, the boy quickly found his clothes and ripped them off. He stepped forward in the darkness of the barn until he could hear the sweet love song of the man in the elaborate purple coat ringing in the air.


Come to me, oh my love
Fly to me as the white-winged dove
I gave you a piece of my magic touch
I still ache from the feel of your love


And up in the sky the boy could see the man amongst the love-tinted clouds. “I tricked you, boy…” laughed the man in a wicked splendor.

“I… I thought I could trust you!”

“Hahahaha You thought!”

“No! No! No! I gave my love to you!”

“Yes, and it was so beautiful…”

“You’re a stubborn old man!”

“Yes… but I am the stubborn old man that stole your sensual touch…”

The young boy ran across the yard, hurriedly opening the door of the run-down house. “Mom! Mom! Lock the doors!”

“I need to have a word with you…” said the woman solemnly.

“What? Just leave me alone!” demanded Augusto bashfully.

“I know what you did. Tell me now! Did you have sweet, sweet love with a mysterious man today?”

“No!”

“Tell me, boy!”

“No!”

“Tell me!”

“Hehehe Well, just a little…”

“As long as you’re happy with your decision.”

The boy, relieved, walked up the stairs to his room. But before he closed the door, his mother called to him from the kitchen. “Oh, guess what?”

“What!?” yelled the boy.

“Your dad just bought a new purple coat and an orange wig! Last I saw him he was crying in the barn…”

“The boy closed the door of his room with a slight, naughty smirk. Just another day in the Forey house…