Date: Fri, 2 May 2003 08:02:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: Ganymede
Subject: Paradise 6

WARNING:

 This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving men and MINOR 
boys. Such descriptions are an integral part of the story. While the 
story may appeal to prurient interests, it is intended to have serious 
literary value. If you are under the age of 18, if this material is 
illegal in your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't 
your thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!



As a friend recently said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has 
the right to censor an imagination, or dreams." With that in mind, know 
that this story is not true! Further, it is not intended to promote 
illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can 
love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is 
my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The sexual acts described 
in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these 
acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors. If the 
subject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your 
place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, 
do not read further! 

By downloading this story:

 "... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that 
you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have 
access to material intended for mature, responsible members of society 
capable of making decisions about the content of documents they wish to 
read...." 

The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been 
placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used 
to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that 
require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that 
requires payment either directly or indirectly. Any similarity to 
individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. 

THE NIFTY ARCHIVE:

The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this story, 
please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty Archive. 
Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to provide 
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***********************************************************************

My sincere appreciation to two friends whose comments on this story have 
been very helpful. It is because of them, and the e-mails I have received
from many other fans, that I have decided to post the rest of Paradise 
on Nifty rather than restrict its availability. 

Perhaps, as some people believe, my descriptions of sexual activity, 
rather than  being satisfying to the reader and an integral part of the
story, have become boring! I have always endeavored to write stories that
promote the love of boys in a favorable light, recognizing that sex 
and love must go hand in hand for a relationship to be truly fulfilling.

My stories are ongoing experiments: from the first story, Summer Dreams, 
testing the proposition that love could exist between a man and a boy, to
A Nice Boy, which took an Orwellian view of today's attitudes to that love.
I have tried to incorporate deeper messages in most of what I write, while
elevating the act of love to approach the level of literature.

If my critics are right, then I have failed. I have always believed 
that when the occured, it was the time to stop writing.

***********************************************************************

Paradise. By Ganymede


Chapter 10


A flock of island parrots was noisier than a hundred screaming boys and 
certainly a lot less fun. That thought came to me immediately upon 
waking. I dozed, trying to figure out why I made that association. The 
noise of parrots reverberated through Conundrum's steel hull almost as if 
someone had been pounding on the side. But the lingering image of raucous 
naked boys playing on the beach? Had that been my final dream? Beside me, 
Joey stirred and began to come awake. The parrots had gotten to him as 
well. I watched his face.

Truly beautiful, I decided. His hair was disheveled, but that was normal. 
His eyelids were translucent, a web of bluish veins, Such long lashes, 
too long for a boy his mother used to say when he was learning how to 
walk. He had eyebrows just like a girl, not plucked thin but naturally 
that way. His lips moved slightly, rippling in and out, before he 
swallowed. I smiled. He had done that as a baby, suckling on an imaginary 
nipple while he slept. Now, it was an involuntary response, some deep 
Freudian memory that children retained into adolescence. His eyelids 
flickered, eyes awakening from underneath. Then, opened, blinking in the 
morning light. He saw me gazing at him. I smiled in rapture. He smiled 
back.

"Good morning sexy," I said softly.

"Hi."

His arms stretched back behind his head, giving a little yawn, still 
blinking in the struggle to get used to the change from darkness. His 
armpits were smooth and hollow, intentionally lickable in that position 
except that he would giggle uncontrollably so early in the morning.

"What's the time?" he smiled slightly. "Old man," he added softly.

"Old man?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you ever get tired of getting fucked?"

"Nope. Just like you don't get tired of doing it."

"Hm,..." I had to turn over to see the bedside clock. "Damn!"

"How long do we have?"

"Not long enough. Fernando's supposed to get here at eight. It's seven-
thirty."

"So? Let's make it a quick one." Joey grinned. 

"My, but you're incorrigible," I laughed. I patted his bare bottom, 
marveling in the smooth roundness of his firm, pinched flesh.

"You don't know when you'll get the next chance," Joey warned huskily.

"That's true. However, I figure we have the whole weekend."

"And Monday too. I figure we could fuck at least a dozen times," Joey 
added hoarsely.

I smiled and nodded. There was only one problem. However, Joey's little 
prick jabbed mercilessly into my thigh. He was in the 'fuck-mood' and 
nothing would stop him, except,...

"Okay."

Joey sat up, throwing off the sheet that I had placed over us during the 
night. He was brown and gorgeous. His suntanned boy-dick stood up 
stiffly, curving upward. It was not large, but it was perfect to my eyes, 
as much boy as any man could ever need. It quivered and Joey giggled, 
flexing it continuously with hungry expectation. He did that even though 
any pleasure that part of his body might  receive was very distant. He 
scrambled over me, straddling my chest so that he could reach the squeeze 
bottle of oil. He grinned satyr-like, reminding me of a happy little 
jockey sitting on a horse. In the rush of excitement, he squirted out 
more oil than he needed, spilling some on the bed. No matter. I had all 
but given up washing the sheets. There were spots and streaks of oil 
everywhere on the sheets, even on our pillows from when I used them 
underneath his hips. He slathered the oil over my cock, rapidly getting 
it slippery, even harder. We were both breathing quickly. 

Joey licked his lips and repositioned himself, shifting from sitting over 
my knees to kneeling next to my chest. He sat back, rubbing my greasy 
cock between his cheeks.

"You do it," I hissed.

He needed no further instruction. His bottom lifted up. His hand slid 
between us, grasping my cock boldly then searching. He trembled as he 
drew it down his crevice, then back up again. His hole had tightened up 
during the night. His pelvis wriggled. He had it in the right place. 
Another tremble when he squeezed back. It was centered on his anus. I 
felt the outer muscle squirming, adjusting, opening up. The head was 
almost inside him. His eyes were closed in concentration. He knew better 
than to force it into him, but he also knew that if he relaxed his 
muscles it could push through without too much difficulty.

"You're tight this morning."

"Yeah,... I know,...." Joey replied huskily. He took another breath, 
filled his lungs, settled back again. "Go in, you stupid thing." He 
pushed harder.

"Don't force it," I warned.

"I'm not." His pelvis undulated, massaging my cock-head, spreading the 
drool around his anus. "You push too."

I could hardly not obey, not when Nirvana was concentrated on the end of 
my dick. His opening was almost wide enough. It was hot, like molten 
metal, melting around my cock. I lifted up as Joey pushed down. His hand 
held my maleness tightly. There was nowhere else for it to go. It 
squeezed through. He groaned loudly, quaking as his muscle relented and 
allowed my cock back inside him. 

"That's far enough," I whispered.

"Further!"

"In a minute. God, you feel so good, Joey."

"So do you, old man. Do you think we'll ever get tired of doing this?"

"Not me." 

I grinned at him. His eyes were open again. He enjoyed looking at my face 
as much as I loved watching him. The moment of penetration always made me 
marvel that our love could be so wonderful. 

"Deeper."

"Let's wait a bit."

"I need you in me." 

His voice was becoming increasingly strained, but so was mine. We were 
poised to complete our union. Nothing could stop us. It made sense to 
wait for his body to adjust.

His anus tensed and relaxed. Another spasm. Weakening every time. The 
next one was feeble, barely grasping at my cock-head. It was already 
embedded inside him. All it would take was a good push to complete the 
penetration. He swallowed, breathing deeply, ready to go again.

"Here goes,..." 

As if I needed any warning? I could see it in his face, the intensity of 
his longing that was matched only by mine. God, I loved him so much that 
I could barely stand it. He began slowly, not forcing down but pushing 
firmly. My cock bulged into him, the flared head still held back by the 
rim of his anus even though the tip was far enough inside that his muscle 
was pulling it forward. Then, harder, both straining together. We both 
gasped at the instant it passed through. I would never tire of that 
sensation, of the realization that our bodies were joined together. There 
was still a long way to go before it was fully inside him, but this was 
the point of no return. My cock would stay inside him until I deposited 
the sperm that made him mine. 

"Yeah." 

Even though having sex together had become a daily habit over the last 
two years, his expression, like mine, was still triumphant. Yet again, we 
had achieved the miracle of joining a man and a boy. Most people would 
say it was unnatural. It wasn't. Nature allowed it to happen. We both got 
pleasure from it.  

"Feels good huh?" I asked.

Joey merely nodded. He was supposed to wait for the pressure to diminish. 
He didn't. Only a few seconds passed, not nearly long enough for his body 
to adjust. Not that it really mattered. He wasn't that tight that it 
would cause real pain. His bottom lowered suddenly, driving my cock 
deeper, further into his bowels. There had been a time when he had 
howled, even when it entered slowly. This time he groaned and shuddered. 
The next thing I saw was his balls resting on my belly, his buttocks 
hiding my pubic hair. 

"Jesus." 

I was always held in awe, not that it was possible, but by the sheer 
wonder of the sensations that were unleashed when my cock was inside his 
rectum.

"Yeah, him too," Joey cackled. His amusement faded. "I did it in one go."

"Uh huh."

"You going to do the work or do you want the bucking bronco?"

Joey grinned. "How about both?"

"You think you're up to it?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I'm always up to it."

"So fuck me, old man."

I fucked him, but not like an old man. More like a young stallion. He 
rode me like a cowboy, slamming his body down while I bucked up and down. 
It was wild, frantic, almost painful to watch. It soon became much 
hotter, slapping sweaty flesh and groaning as we moved faster and faster. 
And the sound? It was like pumping the bilge out with the hand-pump, loud 
and squelching. But it was good, especially good because we climaxed 
together. My jerking spurts were matched by his shuddering spasms, the 
grasping pulses of the muscles inside him. He shouted, then screamed 
something in Spanish that was mostly garbled except for the one word, 
'cajones'. His balls! His little boy-balls were drawn tight under his 
limp dick. Maybe this was the time they would release the first of his 
watery semen. I watched and  hoped, but there was nothing to be seen. 
Still dry. 

He flopped down, deflating onto my chest, gasping for air, dragging  my 
cock nearly out of his anus. Then, barely breathing, too exhausted to 
move. 

The violence of his orgasm and the 'fucked-boy' stupor that followed came 
as no surprise to me. He was usually like that in the morning. Sometimes, 
he went back to sleep for another fifteen minutes until I woke him to go 
to school. My cock softened and slipped out. It was followed by a dribble 
of semen. I stroked his bare lean back to calm him, to let him know that 
above all else, there was someone who loved him dearly. Then lower, 
gliding my hands over his little bottom, feeling each flattened globe as 
I brought my fingertips ever closer to his crack. It was oily and slick 
and fabulously hot. His hole was stretched, drooling my juices in a 
trickle that ran down over his balls and pooled in my pubic hair. Sex 
with boys could be messy sometimes, but not that morning. My fingers 
smelled musky with the aphrodisiac of 'boy'. The taste wasn't bad either. 

I licked them clean, savoring Joey's wrinkled nose of pretended disgust. 
Sometimes he sucked my cock after it had been inside him, but never more 
than that. I kissed him, gave him tongue, to prove the point. It wasn't 
dirty, not when two people loved each other like we did.

"You want me to suck him?" Joey asked softly.

"Sure." It was easy to agree. "Turn around though."

"You're going to lick my ass? Gross!" 

He tried to make it sound disgusting. I laughed. He turned around 
awkwardly and lay back down so that his face was above my slime-covered 
cock and balls. He had to bend his knees back because of the head of the 
bed. I pushed his legs further apart. There was cum and oil on the 
insides of his thighs.

"What a sight! You ought to see your ass-hole, fuck-boy," I teased. "You 
could store coconuts in here."

I poked my finger into the opening. It was glistening wet, and like a 
prepubescent boy, still ready for more. Joey fiddled with my cock, 
teasing hopefully, brushing my balls with his nose. The cool air felt 
nice. I returned the favor by blowing over his crack. He giggled.

"Do it some more."

"If you do mine."

We had a deal. Blowing air soon became licking. The first touch of his 
tongue was enough to bring life back to my cock. It began to stiffen and 
he licked again. His fingers pressed into my balls, massaging. He knew 
what to do. His head began to move around, slurping quietly. I responded 
by pushing my tongue into his wide-open anus. He responded by opening his 
mouth and playing suck games with my balls while he rubbed my cock 
against his silky cheek. I nuzzled him, pushed my tongue into him as far 
as it could go. Joey responded by taking the first few inches of my 
nearly erect cock into his mouth. We stayed like that until I heard the 
distant sound of an outboard engine. Fernando was endeavoring to navigate 
a way through the reef. Gently, I lifted Joey's head away. For the last 
few minutes if had felt like the head of my cock had been nudging his 
Adam's apple.

"Can't you take anymore?" he asked gleefully over his shoulder. His lips 
were ruddy and shiny. He licked them anyway. 

"You're good, kid."

"What's wrong?"

"Listen!"

Joey listened. I was surprised that he hadn't heard the low growl of the 
idling engine.

"Damn!"

"You can say that again."

"Damn!" We both laughed. "Why couldn't he be late for once?"

"We don't have to stop," I suggested. "But we probably should." The idea 
of Fernando and Rodriquez seeing us having sex  yet again made me think 
twice.

"No, we don't," Joey said adamantly. "You want to see that tattoo thing 
under Roddy's balls, don't you?"

"Yes." I smiled. 

What Joey had in mind was as good as way as any. If I asked outright it 
was sure to arouse suspicion. Only then, lying with Joey sprawled out 
over me with his lips nibbling on the tip of my cock, did I realize the 
gravity of the situation. If the symbols meant anything at all like what 
I expected them to mean, there was a strong possibility that Fernando was 
involved. I swallowed, barely realizing that Joey was in the process of 
swallowing my cock. He had taught himself to deep-throat my cock, and he 
was good at it. Perhaps too good for a boy who was approaching twelve-
years old. I went back to licking out Joey's ass, waiting with mixed 
feeling for the sound of Fernando's boat to approach.



"You be fuckin' dat boy ass, 'gain dis mornin'?" Fernando boomed from the 
cabin door.

I gave Joey's bottom a playful slap. "This, and every other morning, Fern 
old friend. He can't get enough."

"Needer can dis boy," Fernando laughed. "I fuck 'im good 'fore we 
leaves."

His arm was around Roddy's bare shoulders. All the dark-skinned boy wore 
was a pair of shorts. Like Joey, he seldom wore underpants when he wasn't 
going to school. Roddy smirked knowingly at Joey. There was no question 
of what he was thinking. There was a bulge in his shorts that was 
unmistakable. It was impossible for him not to be aroused by what he saw. 
The squeeze bottle of oil was sitting on a shelf next to bed where it 
could easily be found. The lingering smell of anal sex filled the cabin. 
The naked boy who he called his 'best fren' was fingering a man's erect 
cock.

"Dere a fire las' night at de bar," Roddy dutifully informed Joey. He 
sounded almost enthusiastic about it.

"A fire?"

"In dat store room," Fernando explained. "Next where we's sleeps."

"Oh! What happened?"

Fernando shrugged. "We was sleepin', me `n Roddy, but dat ole lady next 
door, she see de smokes. She calls out `Fernando you's burnin' up' `n 
Roddy wake me up.  I got dat big fire extinguisher on dose flames, `fore 
de fire din't burns dat much. Mostly, dem ole boxes."

"How did it start?"

He shrugged again. That was the island way. If there was no damage and no 
one was hurt, life went on. He probably didn't bother to inform the 
police. 

"You want to join us on the bed for a while, you're welcome," I 
suggested. "Otherwise we'll be done in a few minutes. Make yourself some 
coffee if you want."

Fernando laughed.  "Maybe we watches yo `n dat sex-boy 'nstead." He 
winked crudely, as excited by what he was watching as his nephew. I had 
long suspected that he found Joey sexually arousing. 

"Maybe your Roddy wants to suck himself man-cock?" I suggested slyly. 

Roddy grinned and nodded eagerly, flashing white island-boy teeth. His 
hands moved to his shorts. In a second or two they were off and lying on 
the floor. I smiled and looked, taking in his barely pubescent body. He 
kept grinning, appreciative of my attention.

It took about a minute for them to join us on the bed. It took that long 
because Fernando began to change his mind. We had watched each other 
having sex before, but never in the light of day. He wasn't religious, 
but the Catholicism of his youth lingered. It was different in the dark. 
Finally, he relented to Roddy's teasing and shucked his shorts as well. 
Needless to say, his cock was hard and leading the way when he approached 
the bed. I scooted over to the other side with Joey to make room. Of 
course, he looked. So did I. Fernando's cock was big, but not so much 
bigger than mine that I felt envious. Mostly, it was straight and thick. 
I wondered if it felt as good to Roddy as Joey said mine felt when it was 
inside him.

Roddy was dark-skinned compared to Joey, although not as dark as some of 
the boys that they played with on the beach. I loved the satin glow of 
his skin, the way that a sheen of sweat glistened like tiny crystals, but 
I was a one-boy man. My admiration was entirely of the boy and had 
nothing to do with sex. My hang-up didn't seem to affect Fernando. He 
gazed at Joey with shameless appreciation of my son's body. It was enough 
to make me feel uncomfortable. I couldn't tell how Joey thought about it. 
Perhaps he liked the extra attention. He sat above my thighs, playing 
with all three inches of his hard little dick. It was definitely the 
center of my attention. 

"Dat boy ese bootiful sexy," Fernando said at last.

Joey grinned. "You like my dick?" he asked. He took his hand away 
momentarily, then callously pulled his cock down. When he let it go it 
slapped against his lower belly.

Fernando laughed. "'ese cute. Ese curved jus' like yo papa."

"Uh huh. Like father like son, I guess," Joey admitted cheekily. He 
risked a quick glance at me. "Yours is big." He made it sound awed and 
teasing at the same.

Fernando winked at me. "Dem boys likes beeg men-cocks. Ese more to suck."

"Yeah. And fuck."

"Dat too," Fernando agreed. 

"It looks like your Roddy's getting himself some nice big balls," I said, 
smiling at Roddy. 

His legs promptly moved apart a few inches to give me a better view. I 
couldn't see more than a few stray hairs. He had a nice body except for 
the dark-brown skin. 

 "He hasn't started cumming yet, has he?" I asked.

Fernando shrugged. "Jus' spit 'n dreeble," he replied, confirming what I 
already knew from Joey.

"Nothing white, huh? Well, it won't be long if he's making spit. What are 
you going to do when he does?" I asked.

Fernando affectionately ruffled the tight curls on Roddy's head. Maybe 
that was what I didn't like, the Afro-hair that never grew more than an 
inch. Joey's mahogany-colored hair was an unruly mess, and not just in 
the mornings. I loved to run my fingers through it, and tickle him behind 
the ears where it was soft and furry. 

"Maybe I fucks ese leetle brother."

Roddy scowled good-humoredly at his uncle. Not a lot got past him. Like 
Joey, he owned his lover. "Dere ain't no way ese fuckin'. He's only 
five."

"There's always your sister," Joey suggested. 

Roddy scowled at him too. "Like dat's gonna happen. If it don't have a 
dick, fer sure he ain't fuckin' it."

"That sounds like me," I laughed, pulling Joey down onto me so that his 
back was on my chest and his bottom above my groin. 

I groped between his legs. He struggled for a moment, pretending he 
didn't want me to touch him, but once I had his balls between my fingers 
that was all it took.  With a wistful sigh he gave up and relaxed. His 
legs parted to take up a position on either side of mine. I fondled him, 
shamelessly enjoying the hard boy-stalk and the little soft purse of 
eggs. Fernando watched. He was envious of me, but what man wouldn't be. 
The crowning jewel was the precious ruby-colored cock-head. It was small 
compared to Roddy's.

After a while, Fernando and Roddy soon took up a similar position, which 
was unfortunate because all I could see was Roddy's satin-sleek belly and 
the prong that stood up. I wanted to see if there really was a tattoo 
underneath his balls the way that Joey had described it. Fernando slowly 
masturbated him, taking advantage of the boy's foreskin to give that 
extra pleasure that my son would never know thanks to his mother. Roddy 
wriggled around. It was not  about getting into a more comfortable 
position. He was rubbing himself against Fernando's cock. Joey noticed it 
as well. I saw him smiling slightly, not saying or doing much of 
anything. He was perfectly content to have me play with his boy-dick 
while he watched Roddy getting off. 

At least, that was what I thought. Without any warning at all, Joey's 
legs tensed, lifting his buttocks off me. His hand slipped between us, 
grabbing my cock and pulling it downward. He released it, took his hand 
away, eased back down again. My cock was pointing up between his skinny 
thighs, right next his greasy little boy-balls. And his hips began 
humping slowly up and down, with his hot little hand holding my rigid 
cock so that it pressed up against his dick. He had covered his hand with 
oil and it was slippery and grasping, squeezing us together, grinding his 
immature balls against my shaft. My cock was so much larger than his that 
it towered above his erection by an inch or two when he pushed down onto 
me. What did they call this? Frottage? Except we weren't face to face. We 
were front to back. God, but it felt good..

It felt a bit like I was fucking him because it was so slippery, even 
more so when he stopped humping and clamped his other hand over the heads 
of both of our cocks and held them together. I took over then, lifting 
both of us up, pumping my cock only an inch or less, but it was more than 
enough. Never was the difference in size between a man and a boy more 
evident. It took nearly all of his hand to hold the end of my cock. 
Joey's little stiffy just to fit in, but it managed to poke into my cock. 
It was hard like a bolt, but it was covered in skin that was so soft I 
had to think twice to convince myself that it was next to mine. 
Occasionally, he trembled when his swollen cock-head bore the brunt of 
his pleasure . 

"Ohhh. Yeah! That feels so fucking good," I breathed. I was not going to 
last much longer the way things were going. It was worse, or better 
depending on your perspective, that Fernando and Roddy were watching..

"Yeah. Dat Joey's all boy. He sure give a man da fuck feelin'," Fernando 
growled.

"Better than my ass, huh Dad?"

I didn't answer. I sucked his ear, all of it, not just the lobe. He 
giggled, not letting go of my cock, but holding it even tighter if that 
was possible. I wrapped my arms around his narrow chest, binding us 
together, not caring that Fernando and Roddy were next to us. I stuck my 
tongue inside his ear and swiped it around, humping faster, erratically. 
Joey wriggled and giggled some more. His hand clenched tighter, his own 
pelvis beginning to jerk involuntarily. It felt like he was vibrating 
against me. Shaking. Gasping. I felt his legs straining, my cock pumping, 
getting closer and closer. He had a powerful grip. His boy-dick was 
straining alongside my cock. His balls weren't loose any longer, but 
knotted up and wrinkled. The pulses started. First him, then me. Little 
boy spasms that made his dick jump around like a Mexican jumping bean as 
it tried to expel invisible fluid. Mine spurted out into Joey's fist. It 
was hot and thick, but there was not nearly as much of it as there had 
been earlier. Some of it escaped from between his fingers, ran down his 
thumb, oozed along my pulsating shaft to coat his quivering dick as well.

Joey gave a few more pumps of his own and then stopped. He knew better 
than to continue doing it , even if he could have gone on doing it all 
day. I held him tightly against me. Then, the amusing thought came that 
already we'd both climaxed together twice and we hadn't even gotten out 
of bed.

I gave Joey a fond kiss on the cheek and turned to give Fernando a 'what 
did you think' look. He smirked back at me. Needless to say, Roddy's cock 
was still hard, Fernando's dark hand with its strange pale palm was still 
going up and down, albeit slowly. I pushed on Joey's side until he 
released his grip and slid off me. He inspected his hand, decided that 
the oil was not something he wanted to put in his mouth, wiped the 
remnants of my orgasm on the sheet. He turned and smiled at me, then took 
up a position so he could Fernando and Roddy go at it. Neither of is 
could see Fernando's cock, but it was obvious where it was, stiff and 
pointing up along Roddy's back. 

"That's quite some dick Roddy's got, isn't it Dad?" Joey  remarked. 

"Sure is. A real mouthful unlike yours."

 I winked at him so that he realized my comment was intended to be funny, 
even if it was a little too close to the truth for comfort. However, Joey 
knew that I liked small dicks, especially on young boys. 

"Don't be getting ideas, Dad," Joey chided. "The only dick you're sucking 
on is mine."

Fernando laughed, slapping his hand up and down so that Roddy's foreskin 
was tugged back and forth over his purple cock-head. Roddy groaned, 
straightening his long dark brown legs out like he was doing the splits. 
His balls were clumped underneath his rigid cock, making a rounded lump 
unlike Joey's much smaller flattened pouch. 

"Jack that boy, Fern," I said, coming into a sitting position with the 
hull of the boat behind my back.

"Ars workin' on it, boss. Dis boy likes it fast."

"Don't they all?" I hugged Joey, giving him a friendly squeeze. "Now 
those are what I call balls, son. It won't be much longer until he's 
squirting everywhere. I wonder if yours will get to be that big."

Joey snorted in contempt and slapped at my arm, showing what he thought 
of that comment. 

Not one to take a hint, I teased him further. "Man just look at those big 
nuts. He'll probably be shooting white stuff in a month. And you're still 
shooting blanks."

Joey snorted again. "So? He's probably even got pube-hair down there. Why 
don't you take a look?"

It was the opening I needed and without waiting for Fernando to say okay, 
I leaned over Roddy, pretending to squint. I could see peach-fuzz, nearly 
invisible down that wasn't much different to what was on Joey's crotch.  
With his legs wide apart, it was easy to see the small tattoo. It was 
right where Joey said it would be, midway between his balls and ass-hole. 
It wasn't large, about the size of a quarter, but the design was 
unmistakable. Two circles, both interlocking, two arrows pointed in the 
same direction. 

Feeling a growing awareness that Fernando was not all that he seemed, I 
moved away.

"I've seen a mark like that before, Fern," I announced softly.

Fernando stopped rubbing Roddy's cock, poised mid-stroke. He held his 
breath. 

"What does it mean?"

The silence continued. "Fernando?"

"Ain' nuthin' special."

"Maybe. What's it mean?" If anything I was persistent.

"Nuthin' special." 

There he went, repeating himself again. I hoped I wasn't ruining a good 
friendship, or worse.

"It means something about a boy and man, doesn't it Fernando?"

His head barely moved. Roddy was tense as well. Joey's eyes shifted back 
and forth between them, then to me.

"Fern,..."

"Yeah?"

"Is it some kind of club for guys like us? I found an ankle bracelet 
yesterday evening. It had a symbol on it like the one under Roddy's 
balls. Come to think of it, it was just like the one you showed me on the 
beach."

Silence. 

"It's a bit of a coincidence, don't you think?"

Silence until Roddy said almost inaudibly, "Tell him."

Almost angrily, Fernando pushed Roddy away and got up from the bed. His 
cock stood straight out, not pointing up like mine. The end of it was 
bloated and shiny where it had been oozing pre-cum under Roddy's back. He 
stalked away, slapping his hand against the door. He turned back, as 
surly and threatening as I had ever seen him. Only one time had I seen 
get angry and that was when a customer, a tourist, claimed that he had no 
m oney to pay a sixty dollar drink tab at the bar. 

"Ain' nuthin' ta do with yo," he grumbled. His eyes were sullen, mean, 
menacing. I had a sense that danger was lurking not far away. 

"But tell me anyway." 

After a lifetime on Chicago streets there was nothing that Fernando could 
do to scare me.

"s a club," he barked. 

"A club for men and boys?" That had to be it. A club that ritually marked 
its younger members and rewarded them with jewelry.

He nodded slightly.

"Where?"

He hesitated to answer. His gaze shifted to Joey. Then, back to me. He 
wanted privacy. I nodded, climbed over Joey and Roddy and followed him to 
the door. At least my cock wasn't hard like his. Instead, it dangled 
down, still wet with semen and oil that had come from Joey's hand.



We stood on the aft deck, leaning on the chair my customers sat in to 
fight fish like tuna and marlin. It was scuffed and worn and the vinyl 
was cracked and torn in a dozen places. I needed to buy a new one, but it 
would cost close to five hundred dollars plus shipping. 

Fernando stared out to sea. I waited. If I was patient he would tell me 
in his own good time. Our friendship extended that far. He sighed from 
deep inside.

"Dem boys is lucky livin' here."

I thought he was talking about Joey and Roddy. "Yeah, they are."

"t'ain' so bad."

"It's a pretty good life as far as I'm concerned. I reckon Joey would 
agree with that except when his butt's sore."

"Dat boy sellin'?" Fernando asked abruptly.

"Huh? Selling?"

His expression of surprise slowly faded to blank misunderstanding. 
Finally, he shook his head. 

"We're talking about different things, aren't we?" I asked.

"Don' yo ever let dat boy yers sell 'is ass," Fernando said. He shook his 
head again. Back and forth, as if that would somehow drive his point 
home. "Ese too good fer dem."

He was talking about Joey, almost a reprise of my earlier conversation 
with him when we talked about what Vincente did with Steve Adams. Before 
he died. I could feel my face becoming hot in the morning sun. It was 
about the same time when I first saw Vincente's body lying by the side of 
the fishing boat. After nearly twenty years in Chicago, many of them 
working homicide,  I was well past the nightmare stage, if I had ever 
been there, yet the memory was as vivid at the reality of the day before. 
Even in death, his body was beautiful. It was like the body of any well-
proportioned boy. There was a hint of belted muscles in his belly, long 
lean arms and legs where the rapid growth of puberty was already 
occurring. His sex had been hairless, like Roddy, but their balls were 
big. Not like a man's balls, but not small like a little boy either. In 
the cabin down below, Roddy's balls had made Joey's look tiny. It was 
almost as if he didn't have any. I had an unsettling feeling that Roddy 
and Vincente both been shaved, or plucked or whatever had to be done to 
keep a boy's groin smooth.

I stared outwards, away from where Fernando was standing, watching me, 
waiting for a reaction. I couldn't even begin to imagine Joey selling 
himself to men, certainly not like Vincente. I found my thoughts 
wandering, listening to the screech of the parrots. They had found 
another place to gather further up the crescent-sweep of nearly white 
beach. It was even more beautiful than I remembered, more so that St. 
Angelique Cay if only because it was more private. I had long been 
thinking of the island as the place I would like to spend the rest of my 
with Joey, but I much preferred where we were at that moment. Deep 
inside, I realized that I would always love him, not just as a boy, but 
when he was grown up. I f he ever did, I reflected ruefully.

In truth, my worries on that score were never far away. They lurked in 
the back of my mind and sometimes forayed to the front. That goddamn 
piece of bone. I could see it still, not just in the x-ray, but in my 
mind. A shard, a splinter really, where it wasn't supposed to be. Even 
the doctor couldn't explain how it got there. Starting from the fracture 
at the base of Joey's skull, it had somehow managed to get past the 
cerebral cortex at the base of his brain. It was like a poison dart 
pointed to his hypothalmus, a dart that had been driven forward by a 
baseball bat. Beyond the reef, the waves crashed and surged, never a 
roar, but always there. I missed the roar the traffic in Chicago. Maybe 
it was time to go back and face reality. Although I hadn't heard a word 
to suggest it might have happened, maybe if I was lucky, some more 
information had surfaced about the murder of my ex-wife and the brutal 
injury to Joey.

His mother, my ex-wife was dead and buried. The man who murdered her, who 
had almost extinguished Joey's life as well, had gotten away with it. It 
wasn't enough. Whoever did it should have gotten  'death by lethal 
injection'. The only motive that made any sense at all was that Joey's 
mother was a hooker. Not a street-walker, but a high-class hostess. She 
liked sex so much that one man was never enough for her. I was bitter but 
thankful in a way that Joey was ignorant of his mother's occupation. As 
far as he knew she made a living by arranging parties for businessmen 
when they came to Chicago for conventions.

I glanced back at Fernando. He had not said a word in several minutes.

"You want to tell me about the mark on Roddy?" I asked kindly

"Ese mine. Ah don' share 'im wid dose mens." 

He sounded defensive. I waited, becoming the shrewd calculating 
detective that I had been in Chicago. There was more. There was always 
more if you were patient.

"Dat Vincente boy, ese too loose. 'e takes de money, not like Roddy."

I nodded. It was starting to make sense, but only just. It sounded less 
like a sex club for men and boys and more like a brothel. I gazed beyond 
the reef, not disbelieving. There had been rumors of one in Chicago, 
rumors that had surfaced on the Hardy  case. Only rumors, a few boy-sex 
pictures on his computer. I wasn't in 'Vice' so it was beyond my 
jurisdiction.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs. The air was clear, still cool. In 
another hour, it would be hot and hazy until the breeze picked up again. 
The horizon was maybe fifteen miles away. There were a hundred tiny 
islands in the way. Some were inhabited, some were privately owned, a few 
were resorts. The rest supported small fishing communities that had 
probably been there when Columbus arrived.

"You knew Vincente already, before yesterday I mean, didn't you?"

Fernando nodded. "'e come from Puerto Rico. 'coupla years 'go. 'fore you 
'rive."

"By himself?"

"Nope. Dey's find 'im. 'im 'n ese bro."

"Vincente has,... I mean, he had a brother?" Who were they? These men 
that Fernando kept alluding to?

"'e wuz nine."

He was nine? "Where is he now?" I asked, harboring a vision of a nine-
year-old version of Vincente lying dead on another beach somewhere in the 
Caribbean. 

"Wid dem."

It was like pulling teeth, one at a time, but I had to be patient. At 
least Joey was out of the way. I had a feeling that I wouldn't want him 
to hear what Fernando was going to tell me, but perhaps he already knew. 
Like he knew about the mark under Roddy's balls. Boys grew up before 
their time. They grew up unless they were like Joey with that goddamn 
sliver of brain pricking his hypothalmus. He would have to have surgery. 
I could feel it deep down. I wasn't sure I could face seeing him in a 
hospital again. Now not, not after all we had been through and done 
together.

 I breathed out and glared at Fernando harshly. I was beyond being 
patient. I turned away again. We were supposed to be friends. Over the 
last two years we had done everything friends did, except share our boys, 
and there had even been times when I found myself thing that wasn't out 
of the question.

"Who's dem?" I spat the last word out, insulting him with how I said it.

Fernando caught the change. Nice cop was gone. Bad cop had arrived. His 
eyes shifted from side to side. He was hiding something, a lot.

"Jus some mens."

"Who, Fernando?"

He shrugged and attempted to seem nonchalant. "Mens. Dey come 'ere fer de 
boys."

"Men come here? Where?"

Fernando smiled slightly. 'ere."

"You mean here?" I pointed my finger downwards, then realizing it might 
be construed to mean the boat, waved it to and fro and the surrounding 
coconut trees so there was no doubt.

"Dey's have parties 'ere. Gets drunk and dey fuck dem boys." He 
hesitated, still with that trace of a smile. It was wistful, like he was 
recollecting something. "Like yo fucks dat Joey ass."

I wanted to tell him to leave Joey out of it. "Where do they come from?"

"All overs?." Fernando was reluctant to say more. I could see his eyes 
flicker from side to side even though I was still looking out to sea. I 
waited again, holding back my anger. It was the only way he would tell me 
the truth. Besides Joey, Fernando and Roddy were the only people I could 
call 'friend'.

"Dey comes fer de boys," Fernando repeated. I wanted to shake him. 
Perhaps he sensed my frustration.  He waved at the islands beyond d the 
reef. "Dey got a place, boss. Wid lots 'a boys."

"Young boys, like Vincente?"

"Some's leetle." 

"And you think that's okay?"

"Dey's happy."

"Who? The boys? Or the men?" I asked sarcastically. It was water off a 
duck's back. Fernando was like that when his mind was made up.

"Both." Fernando chuckled. "De mens gets to fuck and dem boys gets de 
money."

"The boys? They all have that tattoo on them, don't they? One like 
Roddy's?"

Fernando shrugged again. It was as good as saying yes. I breathed out. 
"The one on Vincente was cut off, wasn't it Fernando?"

"Shark. 'e bite dat boy leg."

"Cut out the crap, Fernando! We both know it wasn't a shark."

"Dere wuz teeth bites."

I shook my head. The wound was jagged and torn, but not by a knife. A 
piece of shell perhaps? 

"One of those men killed Vincente, Fernando. You that as well as I do."

Fernando shook his head. His face showed disbelief. Maybe he knew the men 
better than I did. All I could think of was Vincente's pallid face, a 
penis that was about the size of my finger with a foreskin still intact, 
and his ravaged ass-hole. His anus looked a lot like Joey's after we had 
sex. I rubbed my forehead. I had no right to be self-righteous. 

"Dey loves boys. Dey don' be hurtin' dem." 

"Someone killed Vincente," I reminded him. "They fucked him, Fernando and 
then they strangled him with Joey's costume."

"Not dem!"

"Where do these men come from, Fernando?" 

He gave an everywhere gesture to the horizon. "Comes by planes mostly. 
Somes like dat Adams comes by boats."

"From the U.S.?"

Fernando nodded. "Most. Dere's somes from udder places. Germans 'n such. 
Dey's rich."

"Yeah, I suppose they are. They're tourists aren't they?" My cynicism 
went unnoticed. "Where do they stay?" I asked bluntly.

Fernando stepped back. His eyes moved to the side, to where Joey and 
Roddy had stopped on their way out of the cabin. They were still naked. 
Side-by-side the differences were startling. Joey was suntanned, but 
compared to Roddy he was light skinned. His bronzed Hispanic body was 
pale compared to Roddy's African hue. And Roddy wasn't as dark as some of 
them. Some of the boys were black like diesel soot. Roddy was a hand's 
breath taller, not just the one or two inches I had imagined. And his 
uncircumcised dick was like a pendulum, a short pendulum, but one that 
was still long enough to dangle down between his thighs. Joey's boy-dick 
was a snub-nosed thing, scarlet-tipped where it had been rubbed too hard. 
There were no prizes for guessing what the boys had been doing down in 
the cabin. I wasn't surprised. They would probably progress beyond 
masturbating at some point, if they already hadn't.

A brusque movement of my head suggested to Joey that he and Roddy should 
get lost for a while. He contemplated me, his eyes slowly lowering from 
my head to my groin. He stopped there, staring at my cock. It had dried 
in the morning sun leaving a trace of sticky residue on the shiny oiled 
flesh. 

"Dad?"

"Yes. What is it?"

Joey glanced at Roddy, then back to me. "It's near Nassau."  I assumed 
Roddy had told him that. 

I had taken Joey to Nassau by boat about a year ago when he needed to see 
a real doctor for his headaches. We ended up flying to Miami and spending 
two days with some specialists. The bill was almost paid off. I liked the 
pediatric neurosurgeon more than the one in Chicago even though she was a 
woman. The endocrinologist, Doctor Lamar, was a breath of fresh air. He 
was careful with the terminology, using words that both Joey and I could 
mostly understand. It was time he went back for a check-up.

"Nassau?"

Fernando nodded eventually. "Yo go pass Hawksbill Cay, jus' coupla 
islands."

It was a long way up the Exuma chain, but not so far that an inflatable 
boat with some heavy-duty horsepower could not reach St. Angelique in an 
hour or so. The inflatable boat that had brought my customers to 
Georgetown the day before had such a boat. 

"You know a boy by the name of Adam, Roddy?" I asked tersely. 

Roddy glanced at Fernando, then back at me. He shuffled his feet. It was 
like seeing Joey caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

"Maybe I seen him." His voice was a give away.

"Maybe you've seen him?" Even to me, it sounded testy.

"Dad?"

I glanced at Joey. He was fingering his dick. Sometimes he did that to 
take my mind of something, but he also he did it when he was nervous. 

"Don't be mean to him, okay?" 

"I'm not being mean," I replied. "I want to find out what's going on."

"I knows Adam," Roddy muttered. "Ese candy."

"Candy?"

"It's what we're called," Joey explained. I stared at him, waiting for an 
explanation. "Me and Rod is candy," he said awkwardly.

"Sorry. That one you're going to have to explain."

Joey smiled nervously. "We have sex with men,"

"That helps a whole lot."

He gave me a 'be serious' frown. He took a deep breath, his eyes watching 
Fernando for a sign. Fernando shrugged. "It's called the Candy Club."

"What's called the Candy Club?"

"Where the boys are. Because it's on Candy Cay," he added tentatively.

"Candy Cay?" 

I couldn't remember seeing Candy Cay on a chart of the Exumas, but then 
Joey Cay wasn't more than a tiny dot. It was bigger than a 'dot', in the 
same way that Roddy's dick was bigger than Joey's. I smiled.

"Okay, I think I'm beginning to get it." 

I leaned on the fishing chair, stretching my arms. The sun felt good on 
my bare skin. No wonder Joey spent most of his life naked. Being bare was 
one of life's great sybaritic pleasures.

"This Candy Cay place? It's close to Nassau and privately owned, right? 
Men come there from up-north and elsewhere. To be with boys?" I looked at 
Fernando. He didn't look away. "Meaning the men have sex with them?" 

No one said a word. Joey stared at his feet. Suddenly, he looked up. His 
eyes were dark like his mother's eyes, not like mine. 

"Like we have sex, and Roddy and Fernando. It isn't bad what we do. It's 
just who we are," he added, parroting me almost word for word.

"I didn't say it was bad. These men, they pay the boys for sex?"

"That Adams guy paid Vincente two-hundred and fifty bucks a day. You said 
I could get double that, remember?" Joey reminded me.  

I shook my head and gave him a 'don't go there' look. "Where do the boys 
come from, Fernando?"

"All overs. Mos'ly dey's poor boys. Some's from Puerto Rico, some's from 
round 'ere. Most's like Joey. Dem U.S. boys dat no ones wants. Dey's gays 
mos'ly."

I nodded thoughtfully.  He had described Adam. If you knew where to look 
in the U.S., there were boys like him. Throwaways, because their parents 
couldn't support them or didn't want them, or because the boys were gay 
and ran away rather than live with parents who hated their guts. They 
ended up in the big cities like Chicago, L.A.  and New York, selling 
their butts and doing drugs. A lot of the boys caught AIDS within a year 
or two.

"It's better than living on the street," Joey said argumentatively.

I didn't contradict him.

"Dey's gotta be cute boys," Fernando added pointedly.

"Cute like Joey, huh?" I asked, thinking not of Joey, but of Adam from 
the previous day. 

Adam was cute. Cute enough to have any man he wanted. Vaguely, I wondered 
what Adam charged for a day. Five hundred bucks? What Joey was worth? No 
wonder he had two men hanging around him. They probably split the cost. 
Maybe they took turns. One took photographs of the other having sex with 
him. The Internet was full of kiddie porn. I had stopped looking the day 
that Joey moved in with me. Then, there had been no need to satisfy my 
perverted desires by looking at a computer screen. I had a real live boy 
of my very own to keep me satisfied.

Blushing, Joey gave me a 'drop dead' look. I deserved that one.

"Dem mens loves dose boys," Fernando repeated loudly as if I had 
forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm sure they do. Only one of dose boys is dead, isn't he 
Fernando?"

Fernando nodded. His eyes were sad. "Ain' none o dem!" I shrugged. "Dey's 
like us. Dey's loving boys. Sure dey fuck dem, but dose boys likes that. 
It don' matter dat dey gets paid. Likes yo Joey and dat Rod-boy a mine. 
Dey likes mens' cocks same as we likes dem boy-cocks"

I shook my head. I wasn't ready to dispute that there were boys who 
wanted to have sex with men, boys like Joey and Roddy who had been 
capable of having sex since they were nine or ten years old. My own 
experience was an unequivocal 'yes' to that. Instead, I wondered how 
Fernando and Roddy had come to join the Candy Club. I would have a hard 
time, make that impossible, allowing Joey to have sex with another man.

"Because they pay the boys, Dad, it doesn't mean they love them any 
less," Joey interjected. 

I wasn't about to dispute that either. Not with Joey. Not when he seemed 
to be on the other side of the fence. Damn, but he had raised the idea of 
him doing exactly that! Selling his body to make money! I hadn't realized 
that he was being serious. He understood our financial situation. It was 
his way of trying to help. He could work for a single day and, after 
costs, make more money than I made in two weeks. I shook my head. I loved 
him too much, that was the problem.

"De mens go dere 'cause dere ain' no where's else," Fernando said 
quietly. "Dey's careful wid de boys. Dey do de proper health stuff. No 
boys gets hurt. Dey use de rubbers. Dat 'spensive silver stuff."

"I think he means KY," Joey said with a smirk. 

"Dey don' be hurtin' dem boys. Not never!"

"How do you know?" I demanded, turning on Fernando.

"He knows,... okay? He knows because Roddy lived there for a year when he 
was nine," Joey said quietly. 

His eyes flickered, his bottom lip trembled. He was afraid of what I 
would say. I waited for him to say more. It was a short wait. 

"I didn't know about till now." He swallowed, then licked his lips. "Dad, 
he did it to make money for them. So Fernando could buy the bar."

"My God!"

It sounded true. Fernando had told me once or twice that he'd been a 
fisherman before opening the bar. Fisherman didn't make the sort of money 
needed to save that much in a lifetime. I had assumed he'd come into some 
money from his family, perhaps for the same reason that I assumed he'd 
taken on his nephew's care after his parents died in a hurricane.

"It isn't what you think, Dad."

"How?.... Joey, how can you possible say that? He sold his ass for 
Christ's sake!"

Joey shrugged. "The men didn't do anything to him that you haven't done 
to me, Dad." He smiled brashly. "Lots of times," he added pointedly.

"But he was nine?"

"So? I'd just turned ten the first time you fucked me. So what? In case 
you've forgotten you used to play with my dick all the time when I was 
little. I was a sexy kid. I liked you doing it. If I'd known what to do 
back then, I would have found a way to get you to fuck me."
"Joey!"

"It's true, Dad. You don't get it, but Fernando's right. I like big 
cocks. I can't help liking men any more than you can help liking boys. 
The kids on Candy Cay get paid to do what I do for free. They need the 
money and they get loved as well."

I shook my head. "It's,... Joey, we have sex only because we love each 
other. It's how we show that love."

"You think I don't know that, Dad," Joey said vehemently. He gestured at 
Roddy, who had been standing quietly next to him. "Tell him what you told 
me, Rod."

Roddy hesitated, but not for very long. "Dey wuz nice, Mister Joey," he 
murmured.  

He called me that sometimes, not as Joey's father, but because I was the 
man who loved his best friend. I was Joey's master, in a way. I nodded 
for him to continue.

 "De mens?. Dey din' makes me do nuthin' bad. Only if I likes de man,... 
den we fuck."

"You spent a year there, at this Candy Cay place?"

Roddy nodded in response. 

"And the tattoo under your balls? Tell me about that, Roddy?"

"All de boys got dat. Mos' dem go next to de dick, cause it look more 
sexy dere." He smirked at Fernando. "'e want mine where no one see it." 

Roddy touched his thigh, right next to his cock. It was the same place 
where I had seen the strange mark on Adam when he climbed into the tuna 
tower, and where the 'shark' had supposedly bitten Vincente. It still 
didn't sound right. Certainly, I had a few more facts to go on, but there 
was nothing to suggest who Vincente's murderer might have been. All I 
could think of was that it was one of the men who visited Candy Cay, who 
paid to have sex with under-aged boys. None of it made much sense. I 
suspected Joey knew more than he was letting on. I scratched my head. 
There was only one way to get to the bottom of it, so to speak.

"Maybe we need to pay this Candy Cay a visit," I said thoughtfully. 

Fernando had brought his beat-up sixteen-foot Bayliner runabout. It was 
ten years old and greatly in need of repair, but it would draw less 
attention to us than if we traveled in Conundrum. If that piece of sun-
faded fiberglass could make it up Exuma Sound, from Georgetown to Joey 
Cay, it could probably go the rest of the way to Candy Cay by keeping on 
the lee-side of the island chain. I glanced at Joey, reluctant to take 
him to a place where men openly had sex with boys. On the positive side, 
I couldn't think of a nicer friend for Joey than Roddy, and he had lived 
there for a year, having sex with any man he took a liking to. 

"We'll take your boat, Fernando. Assuming you've got enough gas?" I 
asked. Fernando shrugged. "Does the radio work?" 

He shrugged again. His runabout redefined the word 'seaworthy', or lack 
thereof. There was nothing for it. I went back into the salon, then down 
into the main cabin. Calling out to them, I tossed Fernando and Roddy's 
clothes up, then found a tee shirt and shorts for Joey to wear. I  found 
the old VHS radio lying in the bottom of a drawer. It was wrapped in 
plastic, with all the connections ready to go. I kept it for a spare. I 
took my wallet, checked the contents by habit. There was a couple of 
hundred dollars inside, enough to pay for the next fill-up for Conundrum 
and to get us through the next week. My venture into the fishing charter 
business was rapidly losing money. It was the off-season for tourism. 9-
11 hadn't helped business either. 



Chapter 11



Running up the Exuma chain was like counting slowly from one to a hundred 
while watching islands pass. There were at least a hundred of them. Some 
were small, barely more than a pile of sand over coral, a coconut tree or 
two struggling to eke out an existence where the only water came from a 
rain shower.  When we passed a fishing village or another boat, Joey and 
I huddled below the gunwale where we couldn't be seen. 

A few times, much to my consternation if not Fernando's, the outboard 
coughed and spluttered. It might well have been water in the gasoline, as 
he claimed. It sounded more like the engine was about to die.  However, 
every time it sprang back to life. I was glad that Conundrum had diesel 
engines, two of them, massive metal monsters from Perkins. Nothing could 
stop them, not even being immersed in seawater for a couple of days. 

Finally, even the villages and tourist boats disappeared. By then we were 
about midway up the chain. Most of the islands were struggling, low, 
windswept trees that looked very different to the lush vegetation further 
south. The Dry Exumas deserved their name. 

Yet, as we steadily neared Nassau, I began to sense the change. It wasn't 
much at first, just an occasional palm tree, curving out over the beach. 
Lots of birds, eking out their seasonal vacation from northern climates. 
One of them had to be Candy Cay. I would never have found it without 
Fernando's help. Indeed, from the ocean on either side, all that could be 
seen was a dense thicket of trees and the towering crowns of Exuma palms. 

Fernando did what I could not have done with Conundrum. He ran the 
runabout up onto the beach, kicking the outboard up at the last moment as 
he killed the engine. We ground to a halt, the bow  buried into the sand 
so far that it probably wouldn't need an anchor to keep it there.

We climbed out. As soon as the boat stopped the heat returned. It was 
hotter than St. Angelique even on a bad day. Beads of sweat instantly 
formed on my forehead. It got to Joey right away. He shuddered and 
lurched forward, dropping to his knees to gasp for air. "Ese sea sick?" 
Fernando asked. The heat never seem to bother him or Roddy.

I shook my head, using a cloth from inside the runabout to get some water 
for Joey's forehead. He was flushed. His eyes were closed. A headache was 
coming on. Maybe a bad one from his tense fists. It didn't get that bad 
usually, but when it did, it was more like a migraine with blasts of 
light hurting his eyes and endless sweating. All because of a tiny piece 
of bone sticking into his hypothalmus. 

"It's not that,.... Fernando, he's sick. He has a problem controlling his 
body. Sometimes when the temperature goes up, he gets headaches. Most 
times, it's at night, but if it happens during the day, it's worse than 
anything I could say."

"'e goin' ta die?" he asked apprehensively. 

"No, not that. He'll be okay in a while." 

There was no point in explaining further. Even I didn't understand. It 
was caused by the cessation of hormones flowing from the hypothalmus to 
the pituitary gland. That was all I knew. That, and to get him cool again 
as quickly as possible. Sometimes, I could take him into the lagoon and 
let the water wash over him, but now, in the heat of summer, the water 
was luke warm. The best thing was to get him in the shade immediately. I 
picked him up. He wasn't much heavier than he had been two years ago when 
I carried him into my home the first time. Except, during those two 
years, his Hispanic puppy fat had become hard boy-muscle. He shivered 
suddenly. The chills were part of how his body tried to fight back. It 
was almost as if his teeth chattered non-stop from the beach. He couldn't 
talk, except to say 'dad' again and again. I felt so helpless.

The shade helped, that and the small white tee-shirt that Roddy dutifully 
waved up and down. For the next ten minutes I explained to Fernando as 
best I could what the problem was. By the time I finished there were 
tears in his eyes. Mine too. It was a painful story, worse because I had 
to whisper so that Joey and Roddy could not hear.

"Dat poor boy. 'e be okay," was all that Fernando could say. He said it 
over and over again, like a mantra that could somehow cure my son.

"Dat doc, 'e make him better?"

"I don't know about the surgery, Fern," I said blankly. "No one can give 
me a straight answer. Even if he gets it, it won't be for a year or two. 
We have to wait and see if he starts puberty normally."

"Dis puberty thing, 'e get dem beeg hairy balls like Roddy?" Fernando 
asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, more or less. I guess bigger balls are part of it. The doctor 
thinks he'll be slow getting hair."

"Ese small now," Fernando observed. 

I'd taken Joey's shorts off to help him cool down. His tee-shirt too. His 
penis had shriveled up, a nubbin above his loose little pouch. His balls 
were tiny, about like peanuts without the shell. Sometimes I teased him 
by calling them jelly beans, or little-boy-balls.

"Yeah."

"Dem headaches do dat to 'im?"

Fernando really didn't understand. "No, the piece of bone," I explained 
for the third time. 'It's stuck into part of his brain."

"Dat boy don' grow up 'cause dat bone?"

"The doc told me last time that even if he doesn't have surgery they can 
give him drugs," I said emptily. 

"Dat boy mine, 'e don' be takin' dem drugs," he replied pointedly.

"It isn't that kind of drug, Fern."

"'e perfect de way 'e is," Fernando said poignantly. "'e don' need 
growin' up."

I glared at Fernando. How he could possibly say something like that? And 
yet, there had been times when I had found myself thinking much the same 
thing. Doctor Lamar had suggested that delayed puberty was very possible. 
It was the main reason why he wanted me to closely watch Joey's physical 
development. At the last examination, Joey had been at the age when there 
should have been some signs of the onset. That there was nothing, was 
hardly problematic because some boys simply started later, but after a 
year there should be something. If there was, I couldn't see it and I 
inspected him thoroughly just about every day. One thing was certain, his 
balls weren't getting any bigger. Would it be so bad if Joey took a few 
more years to go through puberty? What did it matter if a few more years 
went past before he started ejaculating, getting hair in places that I 
much preferred to be smooth and soft?

I glanced at Joey and Roddy. Joey was sitting up, holding his head 
between his knees while Roddy fanned him gently. He was starting to feel 
better. Perhaps my prompt attention to getting him cooled down was 
working. I hoped so.

"What cause dat boy get sick?"

"I'm not sure. It's the heat. He can't adjust to changes in temperature, 
not like you and me. I need to get the air-conditioning on the boat fixed 
for him. The fuckin' hurricane ruined it," I said glumly. 

"What yo need?"

I shrugged. "A whole new system, according to French's. I had them look 
at it last month. They figure maybe three grand if I can get the parts in 
Miami."

There hadn't been much point to getting an estimate. I didn't have one 
tenth of what was needed. Just about everything I owned was invested in 
the goddamn boat and Joey's college fund. 

Fernando turned away, hearing the sound of approaching motorcycles at the 
same time that I did. Only the sound wasn't from a motor cycle. It was a 
four-wheel All-Terrain-Vehicle, an ATV with fat knobby tires that 
allowed it to traverse rough ground. It was ideal for driving through 
sand and water. There was one boy on each bike, each about the same age 
as Joey and Roddy. Both of them were lean and brown, and very naked. I 
recognized Adam immediately, and not because he stood up on the pedals 
and waved at me. The other boy sat on his shiny black seat, staring at 
us. Neither boy made any attempt to hide his private parts. Apparently, 
they were used to other men and boys seeing them naked.

"Hi, Adam," I said, walking up to him. He smiled and held out his hand to 
hi-five me, New York style.  I couldn't help but feast my eyes on his 
nude boy-body. I saw details that had been covered up before. His cock 
was in early pubescence, about the same size at Roddy's, maybe thinner. 
His balls hung down lower. The tattoo on his right thigh was hard to 
overlook, that and the fact that he was circumcised like Joey. The other 
thing I noticed was that there was not a single hair below his head.

"Hi, Mister Kingston."

"The last time I saw you, I think you had clothes on. I like you more 
like this, I think."

He grinned shamelessly. He had a nice body. He was as lean as Joey, and 
like my son, he was all brown from head to toe.

"What yer doin' here?"

"Looking for candy," I quipped. 

He grinned again, bolder now that he knew that I was aware of what 
happened on Candy Cay. 

"Yeah? Lookin' fer boys more like. Hiya, Rod!" He waved.

Roddy waved back. Fernando smiled and nodded. Like me, he was looking, 
but at the other boy. He was dark-haired  and as good looking as blond-
headed Adam.

"Where are Robert and Peter?" I asked bald-facedly. 

"They went back to New York last night." He pointed at Joey. "Is yer boy-
friend okay?" he asked anxiously.

"Actually, he's my son. He's sick."

His smirk vanished. "No shit! Can we help?"

"Yeah, if you've got air-conditioning somewhere around here."

Adam grinned again. I liked him much more by himself than in the company 
of the two men who I'd taken fishing. Suddenly, I realized that I'd 
assumed to be sulkiness was more than likely a reaction to why he was 
traveling with them. I had no doubt that they were sharing him for sex. 
No boy likes to be put down like that.

"Sure. Every cabin's got air. Only they're still a ways from here. Do you 
wanna carry him, Mister Kingston? You put him behind me 'n I'll go slow," 
Adam offered generously.



I placed Joey behind Adam, telling him several times to hold on tightly, 
even though Adam promised to go very slowly. Looking at Adam's bronzed 
bare body, I had no qualms that Joey would fall off. If I was him, I'd be 
holding on for dear life. Adam cautiously engaged gear and slowly motored 
along the beach. He had only gone a few yards  from where Fernando 
beached the runabout before he turned right. He began to follow a bumpy 
track that was made of sand and coral with brush and branches laid 
crosswise to give traction. I walked close behind the ATV, keeping one 
hand behind Joey's back in case he was dislodged. The slight breeze 
seemed to help him.



There were eight cabins , each with low metal roofs that extended all 
around to form a wide verandah. The landscaping of low brush and coconut 
trees had been allowed to encroach among the cabins, creating a setting 
that was both private and very romantic, even for the Dry Exumas. Adam 
stopped outside one of the cabins. Even as he switched the engine off, a 
man came down the stairs to greet us. He was dressed in a pair of boxers 
that looked as if he'd just put them on when we arrived. His erection 
still formed a bulge underneath. It pointed up and to the side, making 
creases in his boxers.

"Is there a problem, Adam?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah. We met 'em on the beach, Mr. Williams. He's sick," Adam explained. 

He turned back, glancing over his shoulder at Joey who continued to hold 
onto him even thought the ATV was stopped. His eyes were nearly closed. 
His face was covered with beads of perspiration. It was obvious he was 
sick. His back felt clammy to my touch.

Williams glanced at me, then at Roddy and Fernando. "Roddy?"

"Yeah, 's me, Mister Williams." Roddy grinned brashly. 

"You know them, Roddy?" It was impossible to miss the emphasis on 'know'.

"Dey's cool. Dey livin' on Angelique, Mister Williams."

"I asked if you knew them. You know what I mean?"

"I knows. De boy, ese Joey, 'n dis Mister Kingston, dat's 'is dad. Dey's 
bin fuckin' fer years. Dey's nice too."

Williams nodded slowly. "I thought we had an understanding, Fernando? 
About bringing  non members here."

Fernando slowly looked around. It was nearly midday and the sun was 
almost directly overhead. There was no one else around, yet my intuition 
told me that people were there, inside the cabins where it was cool. His 
eyes came to rest on Williams. "Mr. Williams, de boy sick.  'e need 
coolin' down."

Williams nodded slightly, thinking it through. "Let's get him inside."

I lifted Joey from the back of the ATV. He slumped against me, his eyes 
opening slightly in recognition.

"It's okay, Joey," I said with what I hoped was confidence.

"Dad, it hurts bad," Joey murmured. 

He looked worn out. It was like having my heart torn out every time he 
was like this. Life would be easier for him if we lived further north, 
but Joey wouldn't hear of it. In two years going back to the U.S. was the 
only thing we'd ever fought about.

"I know sweetie. You need to rest and cool down. It'll go away."

His eyes closed again as I carried him up the stairs and onto the 
verandah. Williams opened the louvered door. It was lined with plexiglass 
to keep the heat where it belonged.

"Put him on the couch," Williams instructed. 

When I stood back up again, I noticed the boy. He was nine, maybe ten, 
dark-skinned. An island-boy, like Roddy. Good-looking, cute even. Naked, 
not looking at all out of place given what I'd already seen of Candy Cay. 
Shyly, he backed away from me, shifting his glance from me to Williams. 
One small hand was cupped over his compact groin, yet his little boy-dick 
poked out to the side. 

"Go see your brother, Carlos" Williams said. "He's waiting outside with 
your uncle."

"Fernando n' Roddy's 'ere?" he squeaked. He didn't wait for an answer. He 
darted out.

"He's nine," Williams offered, even though I hadn't asked the question.

"That's up to you."

Williams smiled slightly, turning to watch Carlos bare bottom before it 
disappeared. He turned back, looking down at Joey. "Is he going to be 
okay?"

I had not intended to like Williams. He was scum, selling young boys for 
sex, although I was hardly in a position to criticize him given my 
relationship with Joey. Yet, his sincerity stopped me in my proverbial 
tracks. He cared. I had been a student of people's body language for far 
too long not to see that he was worried about my son.

"Yes. He needs to cool down for a while."

"Heat stroke huh? I can get the doctor in Nassau on the phone?"

"No. It isn't that. He has a problem adjusting to temperature sometimes."

 I reached down and gently stroked Joey's hair. Silky soft. Long enough 
to need a haircut soon. Somewhere inside his beautiful little head was a 
tiny piece of bone. 

"He's a very handsome boy."

I glanced at Williams. He spoke my thoughts, and it came from the heart, 
that deep emotion that made men love boys.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"He is! I'd heard there was another one of us boy-lovers somewhere near 
Georgetown. He's supposed to have a drop-dead gorgeous kid living with 
him." Williams smiled and glanced at Joey. Drop-dead gorgeous was right 
on the money. "He's Hispanic too, I hear. You're him, right?"

I shrugged, then smiled. "Probably." What was the point of saying 
otherwise when he already knew. 

Williams glanced down at Joey. He was finally asleep. When he woke up 
again he'd feel much better. I sighed. Three or four hours was all it 
ever lasted. Williams raised his finger to his lips, then pointed to the 
door. I followed him outside. Fernando was waiting on the verandah, 
sitting on a bamboo-framed settee. It was covered in pastel-patterned 
fabric, the same sort of island floral print that all the resorts used. I 
sat down next to him, wondering whether I was taking a risk by being 
there, by bringing Joey with me. Until recently, I had trusted Fernando. 
Now, I was not quite sure. 

"What brought you all the way up here, Mr. Kingston?" Williams asked 
after he had taken a seat opposite us.

"Roddy finds dat Vincente boy, yes-day," Fernando said before I could 
answer. "'e dead, Mister Williams."

"Yes, I heard last night. It's all very sad. I hear there's a warrant out 
for your arrest?" he said to me.

"How?" I demanded. Just one word, but the intensity made up for it.

 "I heard about the warrant on the radio. It's been on VHS-16 a couple of 
times now, a request for anyone to report seeing,... um,... a deep-sea 
fishing boat by the name of Conundrum?" Williams smiled. "However, I 
already knew about Vincente because Steve Adams called in here yesterday 
morning," he explained. His expression was very serious. "He didn't do 
it, Mr. Kingston. Someone else killed Vincente. You'll have to trust me 
on that."

"You expect me to trust you? I don't even know you. You're running a boy 
brothel and you expect me to trust you?"

Williams cocked his head towards the door, towards where Joey was lying. 
Somewhere, not far away, I could hear boys laughing. They sounded like 
boys everywhere. They were born to be happy.

"Why do you have sex with him?" he asked in a  subdued voice that got my 
full attention. 

"Because I love him," I said simply. 

 "Yes,... I think you do. You're really his father?"

"Yes."

"So, you fuck your own son's ass. That's incest." 

I didn't like the tone of his voice or what it said about me. "Yes it 
is."

Williams smiled knowingly. "Your Joey likes it though, doesn't he?"

Carlos reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, taking my mind of what 
Williams had just said. I watched him come over, grinning at his uncle. 
He climbed into Williams' lap like he belonged there. It was like 
watching Joey. Joey acted as if he owned me, which in a way he did. 
Williams cuddled the boy for a few seconds, then, realizing I hadn't 
answered his question, continued.

"Being your boy I mean."

"I know what you mean. You'll have to ask him that yourself when he wakes 
up."

"I will. But I expect he'll say yes."

"What's your point?" 

I watched Williams' hands roaming over Carlos. The little boy giggled 
softly. His skinny brown legs parted further. Williams didn't need a 
second invitation. One hand crept across Carlos' velvet brown skin, down 
over his taut belly. His hand completely covered the little dick and 
balls, most of his lower belly for that matter. With his legs spread 
wide, the little tattoo had nowhere to hide. Even nine-year-old Carlos 
had been marked. My eyes glanced down. The ankle bracelet was there as 
well. Carlos smirked and settled back in the man's arms. Fernando nodded 
appreciatively, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for 
another man to be playing with his nephew's sex organs.

"As you can see, Mr. Kingston, there are some boys who like having sex 
with men," he answered. He said it perfunctorily, yet it was more proving 
his point. I could see Carlos' happiness in his dark eyes. 

"And?" I prompted. "That makes it okay for them to sell their asses to 
any man who comes along?"

"No, of course not." Williams nodded smugly. "You probably won't believe 
me, but young Carlos here hasn't had sex with anyone but me. And one or 
two of the other boys, of course. He's been here for nearly a year now. 
I've never have to use a condom with him."

"That's nice for you. Am I to assume that you love him?"

"Actually, Mr. Kingston, I do love him. I know that you think what 
happens here on Candy Cay is disgusting and immoral, and that I'm a very 
bad person who takes advantage of young boys, so I don't expect you to 
believe me. I don't plan to get into an argument about it. But let me 
change to someone else who you do know. How about Fernando and Roddy? How 
do you think they feel about each other?"

"I don't know." I smiled, thinking of the many days and nights that  I'd 
spent with them over the last two years. It was obvious to any one who 
took the time to watch them together. "No, I'm wrong. They love each 
other," I replied honestly. 

"I happen to agree with you. Now, let's move to the crux of the matter. 
Why do you think Roddy worked here for a year? He did, you know."

"Yes, I heard." I tried to keep the contempt out of my voice. There was 
no point in antagonizing him. 

"Let me ask you this then. Would you let Joey work here?"

"No! Of course not!" 

I felt my anger begin to build. It was made worse because Williams was 
fingering Carlos' penis right in front of me. I watched it become hard. 
At full erection, it was a shade under three inches, almost the same 
length as Joey's dick. It was wedge-shaped like Roddy's, a precursor or 
what Roddy had been like three years earlier. A beautiful little boy. How 
could Fernando had allowed him to go with other men? My eyes locked onto 
Carlos' dick. With his thicker, straight shape compared to Joey's slim 
banana-curved dick, nine-year-old Carlos was actually better endowed 
than my son. Then, Williams eased the foreskin down. It came back easily, 
too easily for a little boy. The cherry head was exactly that.

"Because you love him right?" Williams asked.

I replied with a deprecating look. Williams smiled and nodded. "You can 
relax. I'm not trying to recruit him, Mr. Kingston. As you can see, I've 
got my hands full with Carlos. Not that I wouldn't want to have sex with 
your son. I would. He's absolutely beautiful."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"I hope so. It was intended to be one. My point is that Roddy worked here 
because there was no other way for them to get the money to buy the bar. 
It's a beautiful place down here in the islands, but it's also a very 
hard life when you're poor, Mr. Kingston. The boys who come here 
typically have nothing to loose and everything to gain. I go to great 
pains to select them. Usually they have no parents, no one who loves 
them, they've got nothing to look forward to. That's true even for the 
few boys we've brought down from the U.S. . However, the boys all have 
one thing in common. They like men. They're ready willing and able to 
have sex. Unless I'm very much mistaken, they're just like your son."

"You're including Roddy in that group too? I figure he was nine years old 
when he started at your little resort here."

"Ah, yes, that's true. I won't lie to you. I like young boys. Carlos is 
the same age as his brother when he started. I took Roddy in only as a 
favor to Fernando. Carlos, well, all I can say is he wanted to.  Let me 
ask you this. You don't have to answer if you don't want to. How old was 
Joey? I'm talking about the first time you went all the way with him?"

I swallowed hot humid air. "He was ten." I didn't add that he had only 
just turned ten.

"Would you have started younger with him if you could?"

I shook my head abruptly. He probably recognized the lie. He smiled 
again. So far he was ahead on points.

"He's gay, isn't he?"

Whether Joey was exclusively homosexual was something I was still 
uncertain of. There was simply no way of telling for sure. I could only 
hope that he was. There had been only a few times during the last two 
years when he gave me cause to question it. Gay was increasingly likely, 
given what I perceived to be a complete lack of interest in girls. When 
he talked about the girls at his school it was nothing more than to 
compensate for his having sex with another male. It was his way of trying 
to maintain a semblance of the 'maccho' image that most Hispanic males 
have ingrained into them from birth. At the same time as he jumped into 
my bed at night with a well-oiled ass and put my equally well-oiled cock 
inside him, he talked about the 'chick' he liked at school. It was a 
different girl every time, and it was as much his way of teasing me as 
anything he really felt for them. Still, it was a little disconcerting, 
if not all that surprising. 

Some boys have a strong resistance to being a 'bottom', but not Joey. 
That was the proof, if any was required. Not only did he desire men, but 
he was partial to the subordinate role once my cock was inside him. He 
was happiest on his back with his heels at his shoulders. There were a 
few times when I would have liked to feel his little boy-dick buried 
inside me, to feel his squat boy-sized hardness pumping away with 
aggressive passion, but it was not to be. He had no interest in doing 
that to me. Not that I really wanted anything else from my son. One 
'bottom' was enough in a family. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Williams chuckled. "Besides, I can spot the 
gay ones at a hundred yards. Don't get me wrong, but a lot of gay boys 
start getting the urge at eight or nine. Roddy was just nine, but he was 
a hot little kid. He was as queer for men as any boy I've seen, and I've 
seen quite a few over the years, Mr. Kingston. He didn't sleep with every 
man who wanted him and he still made close to fifty thousand dollars."

"Dat year Roddy was de candy boy, 'e wuz happy. Dem mens was good ta 
'im." It was hard to believe that Fernando could look me in the eye and 
say that. He didn't stop there. "Den, wid Carlos, Mister Williams make 
'im happy too. If dat boy work de cabin, ese okay wid me."

I shook my head. "You let Roddy sleep with strangers, Fernando. God, he 
could have caught AIDS."

"I can assure you of three things, Mr. Kingston. First, he didn't get 
much sleep when he shared his bed, and the second, the men who he did 
sleep with weren't strangers," Williams expounded with a smile. "The men 
who come here are just like you and me. They love boys but they live in a 
society that calls them evil pedophiles. They have nowhere else to go. I 
don't cater to perverts or men who want to hurt the boys. They're close 
friends who also happen to be boy-lovers."

"Except that one or more of your boy-loving friends murdered Vincente," I 
reminded him cruelly.

"You don't know that to be true." 

Williams stroked Carlos' thigh. The little boy-dick was standing up 
proudly. It quivered, demanding more attention. Williams took hold of it 
between two fingers and his thumb and began to rub, gently, the same way 
that I masturbated Joey when he getting in the mood. Carlos smiled, 
obviously feeling good. Fernando certainly didn't seem to care one way or 
the other. It obviously wasn't the first time that he'd watched his 
nephew being masturbated by Williams. 

For a while, I considered disputing Williams' claim. However, he was 
right. There was no link between Vincente and any of the men who visited 
Candy Cay. AT that moment in time, I could not see the point of pursuing 
that line. At least, not in a direct fashion. 

"What about the third thing you were going to assure me of?" I prompted 
testily. 

"Ah that! Yes, AIDS. My boys are tested regularly. It's important to make 
sure they're in the peak of health. It's as much for their benefit as it 
is for mine."

"What about their sleeping companions?"

"That's important too. They're tested too, as soon as they step off the 
boat, Mr. Kingston. Most of the men who have stayed here, I would trust 
with Carlos. They'd probably fuck him if I said it was okay, and I 
wouldn't need a rubber afterwards."

"You'd do that to him?" I asked argumentatively. "Make him sell his 
body?"

"I don't make the boys do anything," Williams replied emphatically. "If I 
allowed Carlos to work the cabins, he'd be safe. That's all I'm saying. 
The only boys my friends have sex with are the ones here. It's a house 
rule. The thing is, it really doesn't matter because my boys are properly 
trained to use condoms whenever there's the slightest risk. To be honest, 
that's all the time as soon as they start having anal sex. These boys of 
mine  understand the dangers. They're a lot safer here than working some 
street in New York, or pulling tricks in the tourist resorts."

"I don't doubt that, Mr. Williams. But they still have sex with any man 
who comes here, don't they?"

"I don't make the boys do anything they don't want to do. Let me tell you 
how Candy Cay works. Basically, we have get-to-know-you parties whenever 
someone new arrives. The boys spend time with him. If they like him, what 
they do is up to them. They get paid what their companions think they're 
worth. The boys keep one third of whatever they make."

"One third. That's very generous." 

"Considering what the boys get out of it,... Even if they don't have sex 
with anyone, I still take care of them. At the moment, there are six of 
them, not including Carlos. They're all safe, healthy, and well fed, Mr. 
Kingston, and far happier than if they lived on the streets where I found 
them. I encourage the boys to keep in contact with their,... friends. We 
have e-mail here mostly for that reason, although some of the men need to 
keep in contact with their businesses. There's even been a few times when 
one of my boys takes a special liking to someone, and I've been able to 
arrange adoption. What's more, I tutor them, so the boys can catch up in 
their schoolwork when they're not working. I used to be a middle school 
teacher in Rhode Island. You probably won't believe me, but my graduation 
rate so far is better than the public school on Nassau."

I finally had to laugh. The image of half-a-dozen naked boys with sore 
butts learning Math or English under a coconut tree was amusing. However, 
it was more than that. Williams' Candy Cay was achieving what society had 
been unable to achieve since Ancient Greece. 

"Okay, I'm convinced. Just don't ask me to let Joey join up."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Kingston, although I can assure you he'd be 
very popular with my friends."

"Dat boyo 'e work de month, yo got monies for da boat," Fernando 
chuckled. "Fix it all up nice."

"Not going to happen," I said adamantly.

"'e work de year, dat buy de beeg boat yo needs," Fernando teased. 

I shook my head. It was all so open, so natural. It was a simple, 
formula. Boys had sex with the men they liked, and the men paid what they 
thought the boy was worth. It was supply and demand at work. I watched 
Carlos. He was clearly enjoying the man's attention. His eyes were half-
closed, dozing in the afternoon heat. He was Roddy's younger brother, 
Fernando's other nephew. He was happy, as happy as Roddy or Joey, as 
happy as a boy could be when society wasn't looking over his shoulder and 
saying 'bad touch'. Williams was surprisingly tender with him. Sure, he 
petted the boy a lot, but I did that with Joey as well. It was how I 
showed him how much I loved him. One of the ways, at least. In private, 
more than likely they'd be having sex. That was what men like us did with 
boys. I glanced back at Williams.

 "When he called in here, Steve told me about you. You used to be a 
homicide detective in Chicago, didn't you? So tell me, how did you end up 
becoming the suspect in this one?"

I shrugged. "It's a  long story."

"We have plenty of time."

There was no point in not telling Williams what had happened the night 
that Vincente died. Fernando had probably figured out most of it for 
himself after Roddy returned with Joey's yellow costume, 'de slip' that 
had been used to kill Vincente. More than likely, Roddy had removed it 
from around Vincente's neck in order to protect us.

"Joey and I went for a walk on the beach that night," I began. I sighed 
ruefully, remembering. "We walked all the way down to the village, where 
the boats are kept?.."



"So you had sex with him there, next to the boat, right next to where 
Roddy found Vincente's body the next morning?" Williams asked with humor 
despite the otherwise grim nature of the situation. It was the first 
question he had asked in several minutes. 

"Yes."

"That still doesn't explain how the police found something to link you to 
Vincente."

He was still stroking Carlos' dick. He did it gently, not too quick, not 
too slow, stimulating the boy just enough that he was always near orgasm, 
but never taking him over the edge. I did the same thing with Joey 
sometimes as well. It was fun just to have  his boy-cock as hard as a 
nail, pulsing and dark-skinned with veins swollen out, but not allowing 
him to climax. It was torment of the most delicious sort. 

"More than likely someone saw him with Joey when we were in Georgetown 
the afternoon before he died. That wouldn't be enough for a warrant for 
me, although they've issued one for Joey as a material witness.  I don't 
know what he's got on me, but one thing is certain. He's sure to have 
something on me. He wouldn't have taken out the warrant otherwise. He 
knows I used to be a cop. I suppose I must have dropped something that 
night. Probably in the boat. Anything in the sand would have been washed 
away by the tide. Maybe a hair or something. I looked the next morning. I 
couldn't see anything."

And then I remembered. I groaned. "Fuck!" Williams waited for me to 
speak. "Joey  blew a load out his butt while we were messing around. I 
wiped it off on the boat."

"So?"

"My fingerprints would have been left in the oil."

"Oil?" Then, Williams, as if silently disputing what I had said, shook 
his head. 

"It's probably one of the better mediums around for recording 
fingerprints if it's not too thick or greasy," I explained. 

"Probably a good reason to use KY," Williams joked. "It would have dried 
up long before morning."

"Yeah, that's probably true. But at the price they charge in Georgetown 
for a tube, I'd need to be a millionaire."

Williams laughed. "It sounds like your boy gets it in the butt fairly 
often?"

I had to smile. "Either that, or we're pretty wasteful. Damn, but it was 
stupid of me to forget wiping my hand underneath that rope. No wonder 
he's got an arrest warrant out for me. He's got my goddamn DNA and all."

"So that's why you're here?" Williams summarized. "You're suspect number 
one in Vincente's murder. I'd say you were in a boat load of trouble, Mr. 
Kingston. It sounds like there's evidence to show you were."

"It does indeed." 

I didn't counter that the same DNA tests would probably also show that 
the mucus did not belong to Vincente. The problem was that even the most 
inept technician would find the genetic similarity between my semen and 
Joey's rectal juices. That was one complication, I didn't need in my 
life. Put the facts together and even Detective Brown would end up with 
father and son having anal sex.

"Do they have a case if they don't have your son's costume as the er,... 
murder weapon?" he asked.

I nodded. "It isn't all that difficult to come up with a motive. Joey's 
my only alibi and I don't want to drag him into it if I can help it. As I 
see it, to get off the hook, I have to find out who really did it."

"Look, I'll help as much as I can but to be honest with you, I don't know 
what it is that you're hoping to find out here. Sure, Vincente came from 
here, and Adams has been coming here for about three years now, but other 
than that,..." Williams acknowledged, while pointedly leaving the 
statement unfinished.

What was I hoping to find? I glanced around the compound. Eight huts, not 
included Williams. I wondered how many men had visited over the last few 
years, who had made Vincente's acquaintance by sharing the same bed. By 
then, little Carlos had scampered off to join the other boys. It seemed 
very quiet given that there were as many as sixteen other people within a 
hundred feet. Maybe they were all asleep.