I'll be honest for a moment if I may. I hate Spin the Bottle; it has difficult memories for me. I still recall how I felt on the cruise when Maximus and I were paired up and I saw the look on Terry's face. I made a mental note then that I would never put him through that again. And I haven't. So, what's the problem tonight? Max isn't here. No, but Dino is. Shit. Knowing my luck, I'll get Dino. Would he spin again? You never know with Dino- he just might call my bluff. I might just call my own. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! And it was his fucking stupid idea. I wonder why? What is Terry going to say about this one?

He's not here now and so I shouldn't really bother about his reaction; why should a silly game impact on him any more than what must be going on in his head this week anyway? The problem is, my head has not been in the zone either since I talked with Nash and, fundamentally, I am wondering whether even before that, my instinct about this week was uncertain. It isn't that I am not interested in visits, of course I am, but I feel uneasy at what seems like hanging my dirty laundry in public. And now that Terry is here- he's been at the Mother Tree a couple of days- I feel even worse. Why did he come? Is he simply trying to intimidate me? I go from feeling sorry for him one minute to resenting him the next for using his powerful presence to warn me off.

Sitting watching the others I caught Dino's look and he raised an eyebrow; he could see I am subdued and was already curious. I excused myself to go the bathroom and considered simply disappearing. I have already been in trouble for missing the grape stomping practice on the flimsy excuse that I overslept. It fooled no one. In the bathroom, I took out my phone and dialled his number, suddenly feeling angry.  I am a grown woman in an adult loving relationship with a man I worship. Why was I creeping off like a teenager to make illicit phone calls to him?

His phone rang and rang but voice mail came on. Unlike him to be apart from his phone. It is always in his pocket. Maybe he wasn't in his pants? After the reputed shenanigans of last night, I wondered exactly where he was - or more to the point - who he was with.

I snapped my phone shut and slipped it away just as someone knocked on the door. "You in there? Everything all right? We're starting...hurry up!" I slunk out and smiled wanly. A strange mood was possessing me and I felt that the less I said the better.

Settling back in the room, I took a place on the floor by Nash. He made me feel safe and I offered up a quick prayer that the bottle should join us together for another night. How simple that would be. My John. The complicated genius who is so simple with me. He's just a wonderful man who needs someone to understand him.

His hand strayed to my hair; I looked up and caught his eye. I think he was hoping for the same result too. But my luck wasn't holding. John was paired with someone else and I with Johnny. But I had to wait until the whole thing was through before I found that out. It's hard working keeping a cheeky grin on your face through all that. By the end, my face was stiff with smiling, like a candidate on election night.

Johnny was sitting on the floor across from me and his head had shot up as the bottle spun to a halt. I could see the expression in his eyes- amazement and eagerness. I realised in a flash what this week must mean to the younger men and how little they ever demanded off us for all they gave in return. I smiled at him and licked my lips. I could unconsciously feel myself slipping into a groove which I wasn't sure I liked. It smacked to me of something distasteful. I swept the notion from my mind and buried it deep but I could feel it peeking from under its cover now and again.

I reckoned that the best bet was to brazen this one out, so with a spring, I jumped up, pulled on Johnny's hand and yanked him away, throwing out some saucy comment and blowing a kiss to those left but Dino stopped me dead with his eyes. He wasn't exactly disapproving but his expression said something. He didn't like to see Terry's girl with anyone else - that was clear- but he also seemed to be sympathizing with the position that I had fallen into. I was now in a strange limbo where, even absent, the spectre of Terry hovered over my head - and Dino was in part responsible for that. I turned on my usual face and acted defiant; he smiled a slow curving grin and shook his head. As I pushed past him, I leant in and whispered, "Fuck you, Dino." His answer came back like a rapier thrust. "I think not." I had an urge to slap his face. Someone was going to get it soon from me the mood I was in.

Poor Johnny. Into the lioness's den.

Outside on the quiet corridor, leaving the noisy room behind, a sudden silence descended on us both, an awkwardness. We were holding hands and we walked towards the stairs, not saying anything, just staring straight ahead. At the foot of the stairway, Johnny turned and said, "Your room?" with a nervous cough. I shook my head and he led me up the stairs to his own. I wanted no images to remind me of anything else.

"It's a bit funny this," he observed as we neared the top.

"Funny?" I repeated obtusely. But I knew full well what he meant.

"You and me. Like this. Feels strange. If you'd rather not...you don't have to, you know..."

"I know I don't. " I replied rather forcefully and he blushed. I shouldn't have said it like that. He was a young man and needed to feel some measure of control not that he was being allowed the courtesy of my body as though he were a charity case. "Sorry, Johnny...I didn't mean it to sound like that. I really didn't. It's just that, like you, I don't find it easy simply to jump into bed with someone without some attempt at building a relationship between us." We were at his door. "Come in and let's talk for a while. No pressure. Let's see what happens?" I felt as if I was patronizing him, sounding like an old mother hen.

"Yeah...I prefer that. I'm not sure I can manage it else..." he gulped. I wondered if he was intimidated by me. I have a reputation, deserved or not, and the bulk of my time is spent with men like Terry, Bud or Jack who must seem to a young man in his early twenties as thought they are giants far above him. A young man's sexuality is a fragile thing, his ego easily bruised and I did not wish for him to feel the difficult situation of having to match up to them. Because he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.

"Look...Johnny. This isn't a competition. I don't rank men like racehorses. You are you and I would like to get to know you better. It may mean that we sleep in the same bed tonight. It may mean that we have sex. Or it may not. OK?" He nodded and opened the door, nervously jiggling his room key in his hand.

I stepped in. It was a large room, very well appointed, with an excellent view. I walked out onto the balcony and heard the distant sounds of laughter and voices on the night air wafting up from down below. I inhaled the breeze; it was a warm and balmy night, a fragrance of night flowers. Stars studded the clear sky and a full moon shone down over us all. I glanced in the direction of the Mother Tree. Thought of Lachlan lonely again and pining for Heather- as she was for him. I was not fooled. This week had not been easy for her although we have yet to really sit down and talk about the way we have both been feeling. Thought about Terry. Wondered what he was doing for the hundredth time.

There was a slight movement on the porch at the other house but it was shrouded in darkness. I pulled back into the shadows and watched. A man was sitting on a chair, his legs up on the rail, his attention taken with something in his hands. I knew it was Terry even though I couldn't see him. Would he spend the entire week simply keeping his lonely vigil?

Johnny was standing quietly at the door way, waiting, and I turned to him. "Beautiful view." I remarked, stepping past him into the bedroom.  "Yeah.  I reckon it has one of the best views," Johnny added.

"Who's next door?" I was simply trying to get him talking.

"Doc's on the left and Lachlan was on the right...not that he used the room much. He was never here."

"Really?" I asked curiously. Lach hadn't been here until the last day on the week that I had spent here in the spring. "Where would he go?"

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "He was off on flying courses at times...but I reckon he just drove about, getting to know the US. He's a very private kind of bloke. I mean, friendly and all...a real sport, good laugh, likes a drink, tells a joke but...you never really get in his head. Not sure he liked it here really."

It made sense with what Lachlan had told me. How wonderful it was to know that he had found his way home at last. "What about you. Johnny? How do you spend your time?" He smiled and looked away, fussing with a bottle of wine that had been chilling. He must have hoped that he would get lucky tonight, doing all the appropriate things to make sure his room was perfect and refreshments were on hand. I noticed a bowl of flowers in the middle of the coffee table in the small lounge area and the vase of lilies by his bed side table. Hardly the usual look in his room, I imagined.

"I'm doing a few courses at Berkeley," he answered hesitantly. 

"Fantastic! What in?"

He poured out two glasses carefully, his tongue peeking out as he made sure not to drop anything. "Agriculture mainly. I never did much at school. Left as soon as I could. Mum needed the money I could bring in. But now...thought I'd learn a few things," he continued as if he had said something to be ashamed of.

"I'm impressed. You want to farm?" I tried to sound bubbling enthusiasm but wondered again if my accent might have seemed to be patronising him. Lady Muck bestows her favour on the servants.

"Well, what I'd really like to do is get in the wine business. I've got pretty keen since I came here. Sort of learning the trade and doing courses." He handed me a glass and I sipped. It was a beautiful wine, crisp and clear, overtones of peach and grapefruit...a fragrant Semillon.

"Great wine. Good choice." Johnny beamed and I patted the seat. "Sit down. I'm impressed. Would you run the estate here?"

His eyes went a little dreamy as he looked past me somewhere in the middle distance. "Maybe. Or back home. Dunno."

"Oz?  Hunter Valley? Victoria?" He nodded. "Can you? Leave here, I mean. Isn't there a rule or something?"

He laughed. "We're not prisoners, ya know. Number Ones live out. Terry did even before you. I don't see why not. I would still be available for visits."

I had never really contemplated it before- the plight of the men here. Lachlan had first raised the issue in my mind, really. The Temple seemed a perfect retreat for someone like John Nash but some of the others were rather drifting along. Hando had seen that when he took on Colin and Dominic; typical of Hando to see what others either didn't or didn't care to. What were they going to do as the years rolled on? Would they never be able to establish relationships of their own if they didn't have a number One? Or maybe they would. One day one of the men will meet a woman outside who will make an impression and I don't think they will hesitate to act upon the emotional pull- however the World tries to enforce a different order. It added to the perturbation I was feeling. What if the men wanted their own way; who were we to stop them? I smiled despite myself at the idea. Breaking out of the Asylum. Even Paradise has its down side.

"Anyone in?" Johnny grinned and stroked my face, his light gesture suddenly becoming more meaningful as he stopped and stared at me. "You know you're really pretty. I mean, you're a lovely woman. I just...you know...wanted to say that. I expect you've been told that before..." I shushed him with a finger on his lip, running my other palm over his handsome, angular face.

"A woman can never hear that phrase too many times, Johnny. That was very sweet of you to say." He is glorious. Early manhood and still with the raw beauty of his gawky youth imprinted on the masculine frame. Limpid eyes, long lashes, jaw so precisely wrought that it appeared to dominate his entire face; Terry had lost that as he filled out; still square jawed but fuller- faced and no longer coltish. That was Johnny- like a young stallion about to take his place at the head of a herd. But there was no one for him to challenge.

"You know, Johnny, you should do it when you are qualified. Set up your own business. Don't just think about the dream- make it happen." Take the challenge, Johnny, rise to the head of the herd.

He hunched his shoulders and looked down. "Takes money. Not sure how I'd go about it."

"There's money available in Perve World, you know that. Wait...I have a better idea. When you're ready, get in touch with Terry and me. I think it's the kind of project he would like to get involved with. As a partner. You bring the expertise, he puts in the cash. A sound investment.Own land in Oz. I think he'd like it."

"You reckon so?" Johnny asked suddenly keen, his eyes flaring with interest. That wouldn't be charity. It was a business proposition, a way for a man to accept help but still keeping his pride.

"I know so. Really I do. Don't hesitate. After all...what's family for?"

I reached in and our lips touched. It was not really a kiss- just a gentle pressure- but I felt the soft exhalation of air that my unexpected action caused. There was a momentary pause when I heard the unspoken question. He wasn't sure if he ought to move or not. But from somewhere deep within him, in that part of him that is surely the Creator, I felt the surge of mastery. He raised a hand to the nape of my neck and eased me back to his lips. I sensed my perfidious body's response to his  action, the flush that traveled from my lips across my skin, the loose languid emotion of sexual readiness, a message that even a naïve young man can read, as my body softened in his arms and my loins pulsed.

It is a constant source of wonder to me how men hold this key to us and how little they really understand the spell they can cast. Rational, intelligent- whatever I am- the erotic touch of a beautiful young man can render me helpless and unable to physically demur. It was as if I were watching a scene from a well known play whose every line could bewitch me although I was fully aware that it was make believe. Why was I allowing my body to act in this way when every brain cell in my body was screaming: "Stop! He does not know what I mean and I could hurt him. He is playing a game that only he can lose."

His kiss broke; he surveyed my half-closed eyes and willing mouth with the vague hint of self-satisfied smirk. He pulled away. "Would you like music?" Another stage in a seduction which seemed both naively contrived and yet compelling in an adult way. I smiled and he jumped up towards the music system but not before I saw his hand pass over his groin in an attempt to control the driving need of his lust. He was uncomfortable in his pants and I had to make sure I knew exactly where I wanted this to go.

From beneath half-closed eyes, I watched him move across the room. Tall and stringy, lean and muscular, Johnny was in prime condition but with a hint of a more impressive man still forming in his body. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, his tongue played with his bottom lip, his hands rubbed the seat of his pants snuggly clad in black denim. His shoulders are broad, his back wide but nipped into a narrow waist, the swell of his sweet butt a pleasant surprise where many young men have little more than legs that join their waist. I see the thigh muscles already sturdy and pronounced but still with filling out to do. It fascinates me to have this chance to gaze on a body that I know so well in its formative years. But even as I watch him selecting a disc and inserting it into the drive, I am bothered by my lurid obsession. Johnny is not Terry, is nothing like him as a person. Have I the right to act out a fantasy on his body?

"Wasn't sure what music you liked. Will this do?" It was the Eagles. How old does he think I am? I smiled anyway, little interested in the background theme. It was easy listening and was fine with me, although not what I would choose myself. Reminds me of the sort of thing Terry has in the car...

Johnny walked back, rubbing his belly lightly, another of those mannerisms that whirled me back to Terry. I took in the big arms, lightly haired, perfect pecs, washboard stomach, narrow waist. My eyes lingered on the bulge, clearly erect, pressing at an awkward angle. He loped over and reached for my wine glass to fill it. I put out my right hand and ran my knuckles along his swollen penis; he jerked, wine splattered onto his hand and my face. He began to apologise. I stood up.

"Lick it off, Johnny. Now." I took the glass and bottle from his hands as he stood in a state of shock. At first he seemed as if he would do nothing so I brushed lightly again across his swollen groin with my hand and went for the belt of his jeans. He stifled a moan and touched my face in his hands, holding my chin and bending slightly to lick the droplets of wine from my face. As his tongue rasped, I slipped in to his now open fly. The tip of his penis touched my exploring fingers and I eased it from the tight confines of his shorts.  His eyes met mine as I played with him and rubbed my thumb softly over the drip of arousal moistening his tip.

"You want this, Uma? You gonna let me love you?" He gasped. I kissed him in such a way as to leave him in no doubts of my intention and then I whispered. "You're dripping. Let me lick it off." Slithering down his body, pushing his jeans and shorts down as he ripped off his T-shirt, I knelt before him and inhaled the sweet scent of his young body, rubbed my face sensuously over his erect cock, stroked his balls and cupped them, massaging softly as I began to flutter my tongue all over his length until I could hear his panting breaths and feel the slight sink in his knees. He was unconsciously trying to thrust for my mouth, to feel the swallowing suction of warm wetness.

I took him in. Licked and then sucked down hard, felt the tightening in his buttocks and thighs as sensation flooded him and his need to come grew. Over and over I worked him until I knew he would explode. It was the best way to do this. Give him the pleasure he deserved but not commit; down here on my knees I didn't have to look him in the face and chance that he might see what I was not sure I could hide. That only a part of me was engaged with him in this room; another part of me was somewhere else entirely.

But although I might imagine that I was in control- I was not. Johnny was yet to surprise me. Wild-eyed and beautiful, he eased away and lifted me up to my feet - he wanted more than just relief, God bless him.

Walking me to the bed, his hands roughly pulled at the little voile shirt I wore to reveal the lacy push up bra beneath. He fumbled with the clasp but finally managed it and as we tumbled back onto the bed, he threw it from me and buried himself between my breasts, nipping and tasting, moaning - oh, so gentle. He was so soft and tender that it brought tears to my eyes.

I helped him pull off my jeans and knelt up as he pushed my knickers down. Then he sort of stopped and gazed at my nakedness, his hands smoothing down my waist, across my belly and then with a quick look at my face for permission, ruffled through my hair and slipped between my legs to feel the hot, wet folds of a woman. What urge is it that drives a man to need this touch? Oh perfidious Albion! My body continued to betray me as my mind seemed to dissociate more and more. I was  ready for him physically and he knew it; the pendulum had swung back to his side and he laid me back, eager now, his restraint beginning to disappear as he thrust a few times against me and then slipped in.

His sudden plunge, a touch too fast, made me wince- he didn't seem aware of it, although he did slow down and adjust, setting a calmer and more sensuous rhythm as he explored my dark mysteries. I clung on, my hands clutching the thick biceps, my head thrown back, his head dropping over me as he moved, grunting slightly at the force of his effort and the effort of his control.

I listened to the music playing.

City girls just seem to find out early,
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich old man and she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace and go in style

You can't hide your lyin' eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes

The song. Lyin' Eyes. How appropriate! I closed my eyes at the reminder of my own false emotions but then another image startled me. A long forgotten image. Something that still made me feel ashamed to this day. Something I have never told anyone- I think it highly unlikely I ever will.

I remembered a young woman, selfish and focused, ready to do most things to achieve what she thought she wanted in life. How she tore a path through the tender emotions of those who loved her and left nothing but broken things in her wake. Broken people. Why does it never seem apparent at the time when we decide to ignore the needs of those around us that the only one we ever really hurt is ourselves?

On the other side of town a boy is waiting
With fiery eyes and dreams no one could steal
She drives on through the nice anticipating
'cause he makes her feel the way she used to feel

He was there, pounding into me, so far into that place where a young man cannot  stop, his body rising and falling, the droplets of sweat tricking down his back and chest, dripping on to me, his neck arched - an image so intense, each muscle and fibre primed so that it seemed like he was suffering a brutal torture. So perfect in its savage beauty, the innocent outpouring of a rutting young man. My eyelids fluttered, my body responded on instinct and my mind played out another treacherous night, another beautiful boy.

She rushes to his arms,
They fall together
She whispers that it's only for awhile
She swears that soon she'll be comin' back forever
She pulls away and leaves him with a smile

You can't hide your lyin' eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes

We cried out together and fell back, spent and sweaty. Johnny buried himself deep and whispered sweet words to me, things I didn't deserve - I just held him close as he came down from his powerful orgasm and kissed his forehead, stroking back the strands of damp hair and gentling him like a child. For minutes we lay like that, listening to the night sounds, distant laughter, music, a night jar calling on the still air, the soft hum of the air conditioner. His heart still beat fast and strong but I felt it ease and heard his halting breathe slip into deep relaxed choughs. He was asleep in my arms. I let the tears go then and didn't even brush them away as they trickled on to the pillow.

Finally, I eased away from his hold and took myself to the bathroom. Cleaning up, washing away the telltale signs of love, I splashed cool water over my eyes and brushed my teeth. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I wondered if others were ever aware of what I could see emblazoned clearly in the light blue orbs. Lyin' Eyes. Back in the room, I poured myself another drink and, in a need to punish myself further, replayed the song, turning down the volume and snatching up a cigarette from my purse. Out on the balcony I lit up and inhaled deeply, the red tip the only light visible.

She gets up and pours herself a strong one
And stares out at the stars up in the sky
Another night, it's gonna be a long one
She draws the shade and hangs her head to cry

She wonders how it ever got this crazy
She thinks about a boy she knew in school
Did she get tired or did she just get lazy? 
She's so far gone she feels just like a fool

My, oh my, you sure know how to arrange things
You set it up so well, so carefully
Ain't it funny how your new life didn't change things
You're still the same old girl you used to be

You can't hide your lyin eyes
And your smile is a thin disguise
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes
There ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes
Honey, you can't hide your lyin' eyes

Two red lights. I was shaken from my gloomy memories by the flash of another red light, a small beam, dancing across the bougainvillea that was hanging from the balcony. I watched, intrigued now, as it slowly and deliberately seemed to move towards me until it was poised on the wooden rail. I stepped to the right. It followed exactly. I ducked to the left but the beam anticipated me and was waiting for me when I reached there. I stood still as a statue, waiting for what it would do next. I knew what it was. Maybe I ought to have been scared, standing on that exposed balcony, knowing that the red laser sight of a powerful gun was tracking my every move. But I wasn't scared. I knew who was holding it and I had nothing to fear from him.

I raised the cigarette to my lips for one last drag and then threw the butt away from me, watching it fall on the stone pathway far below. Taking the wine, I sipped slowly, put down the glass and then raised my arms as if in surrender. The beam moved quickly and rested dead centre on my forehead. Slower now, it traveled down my face, kissed my flickering eyelids, the tip of my nose, my lips and then on down my neck to stop at each breast. I shivered as the beam circled languidly. It ran down my belly and rested on my groin. I could almost feel the heat of touch emanate from the cold red light. And then it moved, so sudden, so quick, to stop just below my left breast where my heart lies.

Somewhere on that dark porch across the road, he was sitting and watching and trying to tell me- in a way that hinted at aggression and power - that he loves and misses me, that he cannot sleep knowing we are not together. I raised my right hand and rested it over the beam, across my heart. I whispered, 'I love you,' and willed it to fly across the space to kiss his ear. The light disappeared. I emptied the glass and returned to the room. Sometimes eyes can lie. But at other times they see the truth. A little beam in the darkness that is the light of my world.

Johnny hadn't missed me. Young men! He had rolled onto his back in the centre of the bed and was sprawled out, deep in that complete dead sleep of youth. I smiled and slipped in, expecting him to adjust and make space for me as most men would - but no. He was oblivious. It was a pretty uncomfortable night.

I awoke early, stiff and cold - he had rolled over and stolen the bedclothes. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, determined to go quietly back to my own room and catch an hour or two before it was time to get on the road for the Wine festival. I must have disturbed him. A hand snaked out and pulled me back, a strong young body rolling over and pinning me down.

"Don't run away...it's early...please..." His confidence had grown and his arousal was sure. What chance is there in a man of his age not feeling wood when he wakes? I snuggled into his warm, sleepy body and wrapped my legs around him. My eyes closed as he eased himself in and filled me up....