Chapter 2 Beguiled and Bewildered
The arrival terminal was extremely busy and crowded with people flying in for the summer and with the many friends and family members milling around waiting for them. Bobby's flight, US Airways # 3017, was scheduled to arrive at 8:16 am but it was 8:45 and no Bobby. I was worried -- very worried. What if he got lost or, God forbid, abducted?. This is the first flight for him and it's a long way from home. I checked the display board which indicated that his flight had arrived on time but, no Bobby anywhere about. In panic, I headed to airport security when I saw this tall hansom young man ambling down the concourse looking all around like a little kid at Disney World for the first time. It was Bobby or maybe I should refer to him as Robert now that he has grown up so much. I was really surprised at his appearance. It's not that I didn't recognize him but He had grown so much since I last saw him that I was kind of shocked at how mature he looked. Thinking back, I really hadn't been with him or for most of the time seen him since the middle of last summer when the series of events in my life got me to where I now am. Even earlier in the spring and summer I was seriously distracted; mostly by my crumbling marriage. I forced myself to flush those thoughts from my mind and concentrate on Bobby.
The mezzanine afforded me and inconspicuous vantage point from which to observe Bobby. He would be very embarrassed if he knew I was watching him like this but I just needed a chance to take him in and get use to his new appearance so I can better relate to him when I go down there to collect him. The first thing I noticed was his height. He must have grown six inches or more since we were last together. Without perspective, he looked lanky and towering but he was amongst a group of children and the nearest adults were women so I had no scale of comparison to assess his real size. Skinny, he was. He was wearing those stupid oversized silky basketball trunks that were so big they hung down to his mid-calf and looked like the waist was being held up by some magical force considering he had no ass to speak of and his hips were as narrow as a child's. How do shorts that large have a waistband small enough to cling to such a lean adolescent's torso?
As he got nearer I was able to study his face. It was very
handsome. Gone was the round plump face of childhood, now obviously morphing
into the skeletal substructure of an adult. His prominent forehead is anchored
by a sturdy prominent brow ridge adorned with a near continuous line of eyebrow
hare only slightly parted at the top of a straight but temporarily ungainly
sized nose. His lips were also overly large and combined with their breadth
challenged accustomed proportionality. His eyes being so large and wide-set
reclaimed proportionality of the whole and even from this rather great distance
the brightness of his light blue shone like a beacon. Consistent with his long
lean torso, his face was similarly long but deceivingly broad. His prominent
nose and chin gave a rather sharp appearance of his face but the chin itself
was strong and broad and capped with a deep cleft. His jaw widened to meet the
wide expanse of his skull at a sharp angle just below his ears, the skin being
pulled tightly over his mandible. His scalp was covered by the blackest
slightly wavy hair that you could ever imagine. You would swear that he was
Chinese or of oriental extraction since there wasn't the slightest hint of
Caucasian brown in his thick mane. It was kept at a reasonably short length but
long enough and expertly cut so that it displayed it luxuriant beauty. I swear
that the sunlight bouncing off of his head gave slightly blue highlight in the
reflection but maybe I have been overly influenced by the Superman comics I
used to read as a kid. Who's kidding who; I still occasionally read my Superman
comics and enjoy them and Spiderman immensely even more than the movies. I was
trying to curtail the image I was building of him that I was building in my head
so as not to have my hopes dashed when he couldn't live up to these superhuman
expectations when he spotted me and broke into a broad smile that revealed his
gleaming ultra-white perfectly even teeth that seemed to brighten the entire
terminal with reflected sunlight. Maybe I'm overstating it but emotionally,
that is what I saw. I think that other's saw it also since it looked like all
heads turned toward him as he flashed his pearly whites and raised his arm in a
wave to acknowledge that he saw me. It was at that moment that I was struck
with a feeling deep in my soul that I had only felt once before and that was
when I first met my Lena, well I guess she's not my
I headed down the escalator and had to yell to Bobby to wait for me as he eagerly pushed his way the wrong way up the down escalator barging pass the people in font of me in his excitement to get to me. He may look mature but he is still just a kid as witnessed by his actions. As I approached the bottom, he leapt at me and threw his long arms around me even before I could get off of the moving steps. At the bottom, I had to muscle him over to the side so that there wasn't a calamitous pileup behind me as the unending stream of people with one-way no return tickets to ride were inexorably conveyed down from the mezzanine to a narrow exit easily blocked by a failure for someone to clear out at the bottom. Upon settling into neutral territory where no one was being blocked or interfering with us, we both embraced in the tightest of hugs and, as we have been accustomed to do, kissed each other on the cheek. This was the first time in kissing him that my lips were greeted with the course stubble of a day old beard. My God! I was almost convinced that it wasn't him. It was like having another man in my arms. Then, I realized that he was actually bending over as he hugged me. The son of a bitch had grown taller than me.
We embraced and rocked back a forth for quite some time before mutually releasing our holds in order to actually look at each other. Upon pulling his head upright, I could see tears streaming from those captivating bright blue eyes. Neither of us was able to speak nor did we have to. Upon looking into his eyes, I broke into uncontrollable sympathetic tears followed by tremors of sobbing. How could this be? I could see why a child so far away from home for the first time in his life finally surrendering to familiar arms of safety would be crying but not a mature sophisticated man. I was feeling embarrassed and had to look around to see who may be watching and to my surprise, no one was. Everyone was doing there own thing. Some were laughing and a few were apparently crying, or maybe crying wasn't accurate, they looked sad, maybe welling up is a better description but it let me rationalize my plight so I didn't care.
Eventually we each regained composure to the point we were able to talk. I spoke first and told him how much I thought he had grown and that I had missed him so much. At me saying that, he again burst into tears and tried as best he could through his sobs to let me know how much he had missed me. I just patted him on the shoulder and said, "I know."
He picked up the backpack and guitar case he had thrown to the floor in his excitement and he said, "Which way?"
A little shocked I said, "Don't you have any luggage to pick up?" To which he said, "No I have everything in here!" referring to his withered threadbare backpack. I kind of chuckled at his childish naivety and said,, "What! Are you going to spend the next few weeks running around naked?" He looked a bit embarrassed at my suggestion and put his head down to avert my gaze. I just smiled and slid my arm around his waist and guided him toward the exit. Knowing we were heading to the boat seemed to calm him down considerably and he settled into firing questions at me in his familiar staccato style interrogating me about the boat. I answered him the best way I could but in the back of my mind, I was thinking about what he would need to wear when we stopped at the stuffy restaurants at and near the snobby marinas where we would be docking.
On the way back to the marina, I told him that I would have to get him a few things to wear and he didn't like the news. He said he didn't want to get all dressed up but I insisted that he would have to be prepared just in case we needed to be dressed up. I think his resistance was more from his desire to quickly get to the boat than not wanting the clothes but he caved in none the less. We stopped in two different shops and were able to get him shirts, slacks, shorts, and shoes suitable for the yachting set. At the second shop, I got him a couple of blazer jackets and coordinated slacks with shirts and he put up quite a stink because they were the last thing he thought he would have to wear on a boat. Moreover, the blazers needed alterations because of his very broad shoulders and narrow 27 inch hips and waist. We needed the jackets altered almost immediately since our scheduled itinerary called for us to ship out very early the next morning. I was expecting problems from the clearly gay clerk but was surprised at his willingness to help us out. I don't think his motivation was altogether commercial since he could not take his eyes off of Bobby.
The clerk eagerly jumped at the chance for a fitting. He hovered around the dressing room door as Bobby tried on the slacks and almost pulled him out of the fitting room to get his hands on him to assess the fit. The first place the aspiring tailor put his hands was to the front waistband of the trousers. He slid his fingers in deep feigning a movement to assess snugness but he obviously was trying to feel the heat from Bobby's crotch or maybe even get his fingers on Bobby's cock. The clerk backed off on the more obvious stuff but continued the sensual use of his hands. He smoothed out the material of the pant legs by placing his hands on either side of Bobby's thigh, sliding down, and feeling, the hard muscular leg beneath and he repeated it several times on both legs saying, "This material really needs to breath awhile before it will lay nice," what ever the hell that meant. He was clearly copping a feel of the unsuspecting boy and right under my very aware and cautious nose and yet amused by his antics I did nothing. He continued to feel Bobby up as he helped him on with the jackets by smoothing out the clearly flawless material of the premium blazer. He also, as I knew he would, tested the size and placement of Bobby's genitals first by grabbing and pulling at the seat of the pants to pulls them tight in the crotch and secondly with the side of his finger when measuring the inseam length, several times bouncing his hand up as if to seat the end of the measuring tape at just the right spot. One thing the clerk and I both learned was that Bobby had quite a large package for a young boy.
I told the clerk that we needed everything by the end of the day and needed it delivered to the marina. He said that he would have to call a seamstress in since no one was there on Sunday. I slipped him a hundred dollar bill and he said he would take care of it. I told him that the alterations had to be done perfectly and handed him another hundred dollar bill telling him to give it to the seamstress for her troubles. Looking into his yes, we both knew that the poor immigrant lady would never see that money or at least most of it and as we left the shop, he told me not to worry that he would deliver the merchandise personally after he closed the shop for the day. I gave him a knowing smile assured that he really just wanted to see Bobby one more time.
Bobby, once again dressed as he had arrived in light blue ghetto basketball shorts, clashing oversized orange hockey jersey, and sockless black high-top retro-sneakers, was grossly unprepared to travel in the social circles that I have recently become accustomed. I had to get him out of those clothes and into the new stuff we bought earlier. We drove around seeing the sites around Ft Lauderdale and we stopped into a McDonalds for lunch, a place he would enjoy the food and comfortably fit in with the sartorial expectation of fellow diners. Condescension aside, I eat there all the time myself and I can't believe how I am being seduced by the sophisticated lifestyle of yachting.
At Bobby's insistence, we went straight to the boat after lunch. Entering the marina I could sense, Bobby's mood brightened considerably and his level of excitement increase to the point that it was difficult to contain him. He wanted to jump out of the car and head right to the boat slips but first, we had to go through the yacht club to check-in and I was a bit embarrassed about his appearance. I just brazened it out a pressed on through the snobbish gauntlet until we got admission to the boat slips. He sprang down the ramp and ran along all of the enormous yachts asking, "Is this it" at every one he passed. I said, "No, I hope you're not disappointed when you see it. These babies belong to the uber-rich. Mine is a lot smaller." He looked back at me with a kind of cheesier cat smile like he would with his friends upon hearing something dirty. Realizing the double entendre of what I said, I immediately barked out, "I know what you're thinking and that is not what I meant." He just looked at me with this challenging grin throwing me right into a defensive position.
"No! Mine is not small by any measurement," I said in protest. Then I thought I said too much.
He yelled, "Sure! Me thinks thou protests too much," And doubled over with laughter.
I was about to assert my adult prerogative to bring this to an end when I realized that this is just what I wanted. He was treating me like one of his friends at school. I was his friend and not a father-figure. Happy with our renewed relationship, "I've got more than you have and I know how to use it," I yelled with cautious trepidation considering what I saw earlier with the tailor.
His reflexive response was, "Yea, prove it!"
We both looked at each other with a little bit of apprehension considering the gauntlet that was thrown down. I wasn't sure of just what to say but then remembered that I was once 14 and responded with, "In you're dreams!" which use to end these kinds exchanges when I was young because to respond to that too strongly made you look guilty.
Bobby spat back, "Screw you!" with a big smile and continued his romp along the dock.
At just that moment, I yelled out, "Stop! It's port side."
He immediately turned to his left and dropped his bag and case standing there in apparent awe. "It's beautiful," he said. "Do I have permission to go onboard?"
I said, "Bobby, It's all yours. You can come and go as you please." I was beaming with pride and some other emotion that I couldn't really identify but I couldn't remember ever feeling this happy and elated. I was thinking that I never wanted this feeling to end.
Together we explored the boat from bow to stern, beam to beam, and keel to topdeck. He crawled over and around the engines and generators and even inspected the bilge pump. W spent the entire afternoon exploring. I don't think we missed a thing. In fact, Bobby found and pointed out many things that I was not even aware. He clearly had done his homework and researched this boat on the internet before coming. He knew much more about it than I did.
Even though the vessel looked immaculately clean, we both got pretty dirty while exploring. We ended up top side and Bobby was familiarizing himself with all of the electronics and controls. He was beyond happy when I let him start it up and try the side thrusters pulling the boat gently away from the dock toward the empty adjacent slip until the tether lines pulled taut. He wanted to take it out but I said that we had to be there when his jackets and slacks were delivered. I didn't want to spoil what we had going but I had to insist on staying at dock. I reminded him that I paid a lot of money for his things and couldn't waste it. That was a mistake. I sounded too much like and adult. He looked at me like I was his father and turned away and slumped into the captain's chair. I could feel the magic straining.
In as bright a tone as I could muster, I said, "It's getting late anyway. The channel will be crowded and the water choppy. Let's get cleaned up and go out and get a water ice or some ice cream and we can look at those huge yachts docked along the waterfront." More in a spirit of cooperation than of desire he agreed with a half hearted "Ok."
The next piece of bad news I had to give him was that he needed to shower and change. He really took that one hard.
With obvious frustration he said, "I thought we were going to just be guys and do guy stuff, not adult crap."
I was feeling panic at the thought of spoiling our friendship. I thought about it for a few seconds and said, "You can do anything you want. We're here to have fun and fun we will have. I love you and I'm happy that you are here. We will do whatever you want to do." I was kind of shocked with myself for telling him that I loved him. I hoped that he didn't take that the wrong way but that was clearly the unidentified feeling that I am experiencing. Love!
He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes welling up and said, "Do you mean that?"
I said, "What."
He said, "You know... That you love me."
First of all, I couldn't believe I said it and judging by
his watery eyes, he knew exactly what I was really feeling. Friendship is one
thing but this was entirely different. I was feeling a need and not looking for
a diversion. There was deep emotion here and not something to trifle with. I
had never felt this way with anyone other than with
I wasn't sure what to say to him. I was, of course, going to acknowledge that I loved him but the tone and inflection of my answer could comfort him and draw him to me or it could scare him away from me forever. It is possible that he may think of me as a pervert or a queer or what ever kids call it today. Maybe he'll be afraid to stay alone with me on this boat. Christ! What if he calls his parents and tells them he is afraid of me? Why do relationships have to be so difficult? Why can't I understand just how I feel so that I can tell him?
The tears now dripping down his cheeks revealed his inner thoughts. I had never seen him cry a single time in all of the years that I've known him and today I've seen him cry twice. It's clear that he having some kind of emotional crisis. It could just be his hormones but I think not. He needs love as much as I do. I knew at that moment how I was going to say it. All of his life he's been in a showcase for his parents by always excelling at school, at sports, at music, and just about everything else he ever attempted. I'm sure it's lonely in there all by himself. Sure he gets plenty of accolades for what he does but I doubt that anyone ever acknowledged him for who he is. He is obviously as starved for love as I am, if not more.
"Bobby... I love you more than anyone else in my life. I would do anything for you. I will always be there for you no matter what the circumstances. I truly love you and need you," I said as tenderly and sincerely as I could.
He didn't break eye contact for even the time it would take to blink. His tears slowed and his expression relaxed a bit but through trembling lips he said, "God I love you Matt. I always have. You mean more to me than anyone on earth. I missed you so much. I thought you didn't like me anymore. I thought you didn't want me."
The ferventness of his response and the pain of his accusation tore at my heart, filling me with regret for effectively abandoning him through the period of my recent travail. Emotion welled up from deep within causing me to join him in tears that flowed freely down my face. This level of passion was different from anything I remember. I'm not a sentimental person and have seldom wept, not even during the emotional upheaval of my separation and pending divorce. This was something all new to me and I found myself giving the feelings full sway over me; Body and soul. It was me alone. My feelings were delicately intertwined with his and each of us was rapidly tightening our grip on each other. I had no idea where it was taking me -- taking us but I was helpless to stop it.
We embraced each other unlike we had ever done before. It
was like a slow envelopment. We were melding our souls together in an emotional
bond. We buried our faces in each other's neck and wept uncontrollably. I could
feel his body heave with a sorrow and sense of confusion that matched my own.
It became very comforting through all of the pain to know that someone who
cares so deeply and unselfishly was so close that you could also feel their
pain. The embrace evolved from comfort to a king of sensuality. I became fully aware
of the young body pressed tightly to me. I was not sure who was pressing
harder; me of him. But, I did realize that it was turning sexual. I had not
even considered that aspect of our emotions but it was now hugely apparent. I
could feel his hardness against my groin. He was pressing it harder and harder
which eventually led to a mild humping of his groin against mine. I was
thinking that his youthful hormones and stifled curiosity were driving him into
unknown territory. When he slid his hips sideways I realized that I too was
there. I must have suppressed all conscience thought because I was actually
shocked when I discovered that I too had an erection and it was now
transmitting the wonderful sensation from the contact with his. Moreover, I
found myself kissing and nibbling at his neck like I use to do with
This had gone in a direction I never intended. I stopped what I was doing and slowly pulled away from his embrace. We looked directly into each other's eyes with a new awareness. Nothing was said but we separated while holding eye contact. I could see into his heart and I could read the confusion expressed on his face. I wanted more than anything to continue down the path we were on but knew it could scar him for life. My recent experiences in that direction also sent up all kinds of warning flags about my budding proclivity in that direction. Even if I wanted to continue, he was just a child. That would be very wrong and dangerously illegal.
I said, "I guess you now know for sure that I love you" and suggested that we each wash up and go out for dinner. He smiled as well as he could, trying to overcome the confused set of emotions that had overpowered him. We went below deck and I selected some clothing from the stuff we bought in the morning and directed him to the amidships shower and I retired to my suite to clean get cleaned up.
By the time we got back together, we were all cleaned up and dressed appropriately for the marina and tried to act like nothing happened. As we were about t leave the boat, who do I see but our friend from the men's store. He had a large white plastic bag in one hand and a black suit bag slung over his opposite shoulder. I was a little bit surprised that they let him unannounced but then I did leave word at the desk that h was coming. He was now in casual dress but very dapper. He certainly fit in at the yacht basin. As he saw us leaving the boat, his stroll changed to more of a prance as he swished his way along the dock. Even though we were obviously standing there waiting for him, he broke into a kind of leaping gallop, all the time calling out to us as if we were going to run away from him. By the time he got to the slip, he was sweating profusely and out of breath and it was only a distance of about 100 feet total from the gate to the boat. Bobby was in hysterics. As the guy was running he said, " I think he's losing ground. He'd get here quicker if he was walking."
Bobby was polite enough to stop his banter by the time the guy got to us but I didn't. I said to him as he was trying to recover, "That was the gayest thing I have ever seen."
Bobby looked shocked that I said that to the guy but we all knew that it was the truth. The guy apparently agreed and gasped while still trying to catch his breath, "You should see me dance." To which I said, "I thought I just did." We all got a good natured laugh out of it. He was probably thinking that were insiders sharing a lifestyle joke. If so, that was a premature observation or maybe just wishful thinking on his part.
I had to apologize that I had forgotten his name so we all introduced ourselves again. He said that his name was Jose but he didn't look at all Hispanic. He had light red hair and eyebrows and lashes so light that they looked white even against a pasty white skin that was dotted profusely with freckles. I welcomed him aboard and offered him a cool drink. He settled on a frozen margarita. I had never made one before but I had all the mixings. Half way through my effort Jose took over and, as he claimed, showed me how to make a real margarita. I paid close attention knowing that someday I would have to make another. It was hard to keep up with him because he had so many useless flourishes to his movements I couldn't tell which ones were unnecessary. He made a rather large batch and as he was pouring them out he said, "You can't be gay if you can't make a good margarita." That kind of confirmed my suspicions of what he was thinking about us. He poured out three drinks but I didn't say anything about Bobby's age. We all hoisted our glasses aloft and Jose offered a toast. "To peace, friendship and to beautiful people" he proudly announced.
I a bit bemused by Bobby's handling of his first adult beverage. He handled the toast process well as if he was copying something he had seen in the movies. I saluted us by waving his glass with surprising grace and confidence first to the host, acknowledging the toast with a slight dip of his glass, and then to me where he locked his eyes on mine and raised his glass on high and said, "Hear, hear." My chest welled with pride as I responded, "Hear, hear." We then each sipped our drinks. After tasting it, Bobby first raised an eyebrow briefly contemplating the new taste sensation and quickly brought the drink back up for a more substantial swig. He clearly enjoyed the taste since he swallowed the rest of the drink in two large gulps. In seeing that, I cautioned him to slow it down lest he get sniggered before we had a chance to get to dinner. While looking directly into my eyes, he asked Jose for a fill up on his drink. His gaze was more imploring than challenging; He was partly proclaiming his manhood and partly asking my permission. My return gaze was of acquiescence. He demonstrated a sense of maturity by following my warning by slowly sipping the second drink, consuming it in a pace slightly slower than mine but, despite his slower pace, the effects of the alcohol were clearly having an effect on him. He was becoming giddy and a little loud, probably not noticeable to Jose but I could certainly tell the difference.
Jose sat down in a stuffed swivel chair near the bar and Bobby and I settled on either end of the long sofa across from him. Jose did most of the talking, telling us all about his life both business and personal. I felt that he was revealing too much personal stuff in front of Bobby but, with our newly formed trusting relationship between us, I was not going to edit what he hears other than attempt to get Jose to change the subject. Jose, however, stayed on topic like a dog on a bone. He seemed to be enjoying describing the gay scene here in Ft Lauderdale and all of his many amorous adventures. I tried desperately to change the topic but he just continued to prattle on getting more and more explicit in describing his conquests. I finally interrupted him and said, "Let Bobby try on his new clothes so we can get to dinner before we get too drunk." That was like throwing cold water on him by reminding him that his visit was business and not pleasure. He looked as if he was insulted as he jumped to his feet and retrieved the items he had lugged in with him and in a business-like, if not abrupt, manner selected what he called and ensemble in an affected French pronunciation and directed Bobby to try it on. Bobby, suddenly stirred from his alcohol influenced calm, arose unsteadily to his feel to take the slacks from Jose's hand and surprised us both by sloughing off his shorts right there in front of us and kicking them out into the center of the cabin floor with his bare foot. He then stripped off his shirt leaving him standing there naked except for his new spandex type boxer-briefs that he personally picked out, snuggly clinging to his hips.
Jose gasped in shock and said while fanning his face in that typical gay way, "Oh my God! Be still my beating heart."
Bobby's more than ample package was right there beneath the white translucent material fully on display. He may as well have been naked. His dick, apparently encouraged by Jose's harangue about sex coupled with the early effects of the alcohol, had swelled and worked its way toward his right hip restrained only by the thinning elastic fabric. His bullocks filled out the pouch suspended between his legs. They were much larger than I could ever imagine a 14 year old could have and seriously challenged the strength of the textile to contain them. He was clearly circumcised as the head of his cock splayed out from the end of the long shaft. The exhilaration of his partial nudity or maybe the thrill of exhibiting himself in front of us was influencing his member as we could see it increase in length and thickness right before our eyes. In as calm of a voice as I could muster under the circumstances, I said, "Bobby, cover yourself. We have company," and he dutifully brought the slacks to his abdomen to effectively conceal his privates from our view. Recognizing his indiscretion, he turned his back to us as he attempted to slip on the trousers. By doing so he then displayed his taught glutes and hams for our inspection. As he raised his muscular leg to slide them on and the translucent material covering his bottom became nearly transparent. I glanced over at Jose who was obviously entranced by this vision and I was going to call him on it but figured "what's the harm" and just let him simmer.
After getting his slacks on, Jose handed him the shirt he selected and Bobby slipped it over his naked shoulders while Jose pulled it at the front and fastened a couple of buttons and pulled the upper part open to reveal as much of his bare hairless chest exposed as possible. He then turned and picked up the blazer and held it for Bobby who slipped in one arm at a time as Jose pulled it over his shoulders and then patted and smoothed the material very sensually over the lean but hard muscle beneath. By the look on Jose's face, I thought he came in his pants. He looked like a fashion model with his five o'clock shadow and tousled hair that gave a rather rakish look. Jose stepped back and lauded Bobby with gay-like praise swishingly gesturing all the while. I, myself, was shocked at how mature and, the only description that fits, beautiful he looked. He could easily pass for 19 or 20 looking like that.
Jose started running around in circles yelling, "Shoes! Shoes! I need shoes!" He stopped dead I his tracks directly in front of me with his two hands covering his mouth as if in surprise and with a gleam in his eye and pointing one of his hands toward me in that emblematically gay gesture said, "Don't worry. I knew you would forget so I brought shoes... a pair for each jacket... I charged them to your account. I knew you would want him to have them." He reached into one of the oversized white plastic bags that he had dragged in with him and pulled out a box of shoes, opened them and knelt down to glide them onto Bobby's bare feet. Always prepared, he first lightly dusted the feet one at a time with powder that he just happened to bring with him and pulled a shoehorn from his pocket to ease the entry to the stiff leather loafer. With the shoes in place, he took what looked like a handkerchief and fluffed it with a flourish through the air before snapping and flapping it repeatedly against Bobby's ankles to remove any trace of powder. He fluffed the pant legs so they would drape upon the shoes just right and adjusted the waistband before climbing back to his feet to stand back to admire his handiwork.
I don't know who was more aroused, Jose or me. We were standing side by side gawking at this magnificent creature of God displayed as a work of art. His appearance was stunning. On one hand he appeared smart, mature, and masculine, on the other, he looked sensual, nubile, and ripe.
I was struggling to control my sexual curiosity; with my sexual identity; my sexual urges. My recent experience with the other side created turmoil within. These newfound desires and disturbing attraction to Bobby were tearing at my soul. I was beginning to relate to Jose. I was suddenly more tolerant of his propensities. What am I saying, more tolerant; I was totally intolerant of homosexuality for my entire life. Just the sight of an effeminate male made me sick. It made me mad. I found myself heartsick at my own betrayal of these values that had been engrained in be since childhood, reinforced by my religion, and codified within my clan. I wanted desperately to stop it but I found it near impossible resist the desire inside me when I looked at this beautiful boy and I could not deny the sensual euphoria of my recent experience at a gloryhole. I knew just where this was heading but I also knew that I had to continue my struggle with containment since my absolute love for this boy will make it impossible for me to bring any harm to him. I will love him and protect him with my entire being.
I announced that it was time for Bobby and I to go to Dinner with the implication that it was time for Jose to leave. He insisted that Bobby should wear his new outfit and that he knew just the right place to show him off. I protested that we already had dinner reservations -- but, I lied; we didn't. Jose was bright and cheerful and eager to please us. I was feeling more sympathetic toward him and much less guarded since I acknowledged my own tendencies. In fact, I was impressed by his tenacity and amazed by his exuberance. I relented and asked where he was planning to take us and I joked with him that he had to take us both and not just Bobby. Bobby was beginning to realize that we were jousting over him and had a smug look on his face. I cautioned him about vanity and claimed that I also looked hot when all dressed up.
Jose chimed in by saying, "I'd love to see that. Do it. We can wait."
Accepting his challenge, I did it. I went below and put on my casual finery and made a grand re-entrance for their review and hopeful approval. I wasn't sure that I could actually live up to my boast.
Both of them looked me over while stern-faced and whispered between themselves as if negotiating an opinion. They simultaneously turned and folded their arms across their chests and while leaning away from each other, tightened and pursed their lips and nodded their heads as if it was choreographed. Finally, Jose said. "Very nice... Yes, very nice... for an old man that is" and Bobby broke into hysterical laughter.
"What? I can still lick you both" I yelled.
Jose's retort was, "I was hoping you would."
Ignoring him I said, "let's go'" and then turned to him and asked, "Where are we going?"
"There's a little place just a couple of blocks up
We headed out with Jose in the lead and within minutes we were seated in a quaint little restaurant with an over abundance of super attentive wait staff bending over backwards to assure that our dining experience was exceptional. Their diligence was clearly influenced by Jose's presence but that was clearly not the only reason. Every waiter in there was a major hunk to use their parlance and obviously gay. I noticed the close attention several of them paid to Bobby, seeing to his every need and even to things he didn't need. Really, they were hovering around him. I did notice, that I got a good deal of attention too so I can't complain.
The evening went better than I anticipated. The food was superb. Bobby and I had a sumptuous 14 ounce ribeyes grilled with sautéed mushrooms and garlic butter sauce and stuffed with crab. They were served with roasted rosemary parmesan potatoes and a crispy hearts of romaine salad with thin slices of apple and red onion dressed with a cider -vinaigrette. The wine served was and unfamiliar Spanish Priorat that complemented the meal perfectly. I was very surprised that Bobby, whose most exotic culinary indulgence to date was an Angus Swiss Mushroom Berger at McDonalds, dove into this dish like a puppy with ground meat. It was such a pleasure to see him enjoying the evening. Unfortunately, I wasn't the designer of the evening, Jose was. I doubted my ability to entertain him as well by myself. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I was getting scared.
Roused from my muse, I watched Bobby down the last gulp from his glass of wine as he was being dragged to his feet by one of the hunky waiters and pulled to the adjacent courtyard where there was a reggae troupe playing a rhythmic tune that had a few patrons on their feet dancing. The women were quite sultry in their moves. Bobby was pulled out onto the dance floor by his new friend and to my surprise, they began to dance and they both looked like they knew what they were doing. Bobby's moves were smooth and rhythmic and he was very limber. This was obviously not something he was doing for the first time. What I had missed while in contemplation, was that Bobby announced to this fellow that he loved reggae and loved to dance. Jose reached over to me and gently put his hand over the back of mine and said while patting it, "They grow up so fast, don't they."
I was actually trying to suppress feelings of jealousy along with my fear. My mood was coming down fast. Just as I was about to call the evening to an end, an extremely handsome young man who didn't appear to be wait staff came up to the table and grabbing the back of the up to now vacant fourth chair and asked me if he could sit down. Reeling from his boldness but intrigued by his motives I stuttered and stammered in an attempt to come up with a response. Eventually, my curiosity won out and I said "please. You're more than welcome to join us." As he sat, he told me his name but, in my panic I couldn't comprehend anything he was saying. He was obviously coming on to me and I was at a loss as to what to say or do.
Jose again gently patted the back of my hand as said "calm down and roll with it honey. He's interested in you."
That advice only made things worse. I had absolutely no control over and no recollection of what I said. It was all a big blur but apparently the guy, who Jose later told me was Brendon, must have been pleased or at least not turned off because he left me his phone number and asked that I call him when I get back from my voyage. What in the name of all that is holey was I doing?
Apparently while I was diverted by these flirtations, the pretty boy had plied Bobby with more alcohol and it was clear that I had to get him back to the boat. That was not easy since he buckled at the knees with every step. They offered coffee but I knew that wasn't going to help and would only postpone the inevitable. I paid the tab which was commensurate with the exceptional quality of the meal and service and in my mind, worth every penny. I profusely thanked Jose and everyone who served us, bid adieu and we took our leave. While struggling down the Boulevard I heard Jose calling as he was running t catch up with us. I thought I was never going to rid us of him but he surprised me as he caught up when he said, "I forgot to say thank you to you for your business and your hospitality. Here is my calling card. If you ever need clothing... or something more personal, just call me. It was wonderful meeting you and I pray I see you both again." His smile melted into a look of longing and sincerity as he turned and walked back toward the restaurant.
I struggled on with Bobby twice stopping for him to dump that very expensive meal into the hedges lining the sidewalk. When we got to the boat, I muscled him down to my suite where I thought it would be better for him to sleep in the same room with me so I could intervene if he vomits so he doesn't .foul up his berth or mine with the foul and enduring stench of throw up. I dumped him onto my king-size bed and stripped him of his finery down to his tantalizing underpants. I got a wet soapy washrag and leaned over him to clean him up before standing back up again I took inventory of his lovely body and sizable package. It took all of my willpower to resist reaching out to touch his bulge. Upon standing upright, I surveyed his relaxed form and was struck with an overwhelming desire to strip him of that last small garment covering his most private area so that I could finally see what was tempting me but the better part of me took control and I pulled the sheet over him to protect him from the chill of the air conditioning. I brought a waste can over to his side of the bed just in case he awoke needing to hurl. I was hoping that I would wake in time to intercept him if he got sick during the night. I turned out the lights and slid into the bed next to him. As I lie there worrying about him and about me and about us, I was overcome with emotion as tears began to spill from my eyes. I rolled on my side and, confident that he wouldn't stir, I scooched over close to him and slid my arm over his chest and pulled the two if us tightly together. He was sound asleep and oblivious to my advance. I moved my face close to the side of his and placed a secret kiss on his neck just below his ear and eased my head down to his pillow where I watched the peaceful rise and fall of his powerful chest as he slept. I pressed my body even closer as every nerve and fiber of my skin strained to touch and feel and experience the pleasure of contact with his skin where it was naked between us. I could feel the regular beat of his heart under my arm which had a calming effect on me as the pace of mine slowed pulse after pulse until we beat in harmony and I too slipped into restful slumber.