INCIDENT ON POLK STREET Copyright © 2005 by Jerry Leckie — A young
sailor, a gay virgin on shore leave, looks for male companionship on
San Francisco's
infamous Polk Street. He finds what he is looking for -- and more. He
returns to his ship, a changed man, vowing to return for what he has
found, if it's still there.
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INCIDENT ON POLK STREET
CHAPTER THREE - BUDDY'S STORY
Having
undergone repairs at Mare Island Naval Shipyard, Buddy's boat, the USS Los Angeles,
a Los Angeles class missile sub, sailed at mid-morning, bound for Pearl
Harbor to provision before being deployed to the Far East.
Buddy was grateful to be immersed in the
orderly routine of shipboard life, or he would have likely fallen into
depression. Having no frame of reference for what he was feeling, he
only knew that
he had found that state of consciousness--and its physical
expression--that he had craved all his life. And now that he had
experienced it, but briefly, it was denied him once more.
Unfortunately, it was denied to him before he had defined and
incorporated its meaning into his soul. He felt incomplete.
Of course, all of his feelings were bound up in the image of Jerry.
That
subject was constantly before his mental gaze. Jerry, Jerome Aiken II.
And, the worst part, on shipboard there was no one he could talk to
about it, because of the
US military rule of Don't Ask, Don't
Tell.
Under the rule, the military authorities would not ask if a member was
gay, and
likewise, the member could not tell (or indicate in any way) that he
was gay. In other words, a gay man could serve in the military as long
as he didn't act on his basic nature.
What a SNAFU! (Situation
Normal, All Fucked Up) Buddy thought as he sat in the mess (dining
room) sipping coffee. Yeah, there's
no one to talk to. I can't even call Jerry. He chuckled and
shook his head. Even if I could call
him, I don't have his fucking phone number.
"What's so funny my man?" a cheerful voice asked as his shipmate, Jeff,
plopped down beside him.
Buddy smiled at his friend. "I was just thinking about some of the
stupid, boneheaded things I do sometime."
"You can't help it Bud. You're a Swabby." Jeff laughed. "Doesn't the
Chief tell us how stupid we are all the time?"
Buddy chuckled. "That he does."
"Well, he's the Chief and we're the Swabbies, so we have to believe
him, don't we?" He roared with laughter.
Buddy was grateful for Jeff's cheerful nature. He enjoyed the company
of most of his shipmates, and Jeff in particular. Jeff slept in the
next
bunk and kept him in stitches with his funny comments and
stories. They worked in different parts of the sub, but they conversed
most days during off-duty hours.
On more than one occasion, he had wondered whether Jeff was gay. The
boy was only a year younger than Buddy,
but looked to be about fifteen. He was small, with a delicate build,
and his blond hair and fair complexion did nothing to make him appear
his true age. Furthermore, he did not chatter constantly about his
female conquests as did most of the other men.
Every night as Buddy lay in his bunk, masturbating under the sheet, he
heard Jeff and many other shipmates doing the same thing. He mused that
it didn't make any difference whether one was fantasizing about men or
women, everyone dreams. And, he always dreamed about Jerry.
Five days later, the sub docked at Pearl Harbor, and the crew was
given twenty-four hours liberty while the boat was provisioned. Early
afternoon found Buddy and Jeff drinking beer at a pub.
"Earth to Buddy," Jeff said, waving his hand in front of his shipmate's
face. "Has one beer done you in?"
Buddy smiled at the boy. "Naw, I was just thinking."
"You been doin' a lot of that lately. Ever since we left San Francisco."
"Yeah." Buddy sighed. "Jeff, lemme ask you a question. How do you know
if you're in love?"
Jeff rested his chin in his hand. "Beats the hell outta me. As far as I
know, I've never been." He looked critically at his friend. "Yep,
something happened in S. F. didn't it?"
Buddy grinned. "Could be."
Jeff asked casually, "Does
it have anything to do with that red sports car?"
Buddy's stomach clinched and his blood froze. He frantically tried to
retain his composure. "What red sports
car?"
Jeff laughed. "Don't bullshit me. Monday morning I was commin' outta
the BX when this red sports car
pulls up outside the gate. Jesus, it was like a fuckin' neon sign. Ya
couldn't miss it." He paused and smiled evilly. "And who do I see
getting out of it, but my old buddy Bud. I was wondering what happened
to you when you didn't get back on the bus with us." He leaned in
conspiratorially. "I ain't asking for no details, but
something happened last weekend, didn't it?"
Buddy's heart was pounding, but he managed to smile and say, "Yeah, it
did. But, no details. I don't kiss and tell."
Jeff chortled. "Ooooo, somebody's got it bad." Then, he suddenly
sobered and laid a hand on his friend's arm. "But, you can't do
anything about it, can you?"
"No, I can't," Buddy said, shaking his head sadly, "and it's tearing me
up."
The next morning, the Los Angeles
put to sea, bound for points east. Eleven weeks out, near the Marshall
Islands, her air filtration system malfunctioned again. She surfaced
and radioed her condition. Pacific Command decreed that she make for
Mare Island once more by the most direct
route. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be making fast knots, needing to
travel on
the surface most of the time.
The long voyage of many weeks was not a pleasant one for the crew. They
were in the middle
of the Pacific Ocean, overdue for liberty and subsisting on short
rations. Consequently, everyone became obsessed with three things: sex,
food and how long it would be before they could have enough of both to
satisfy them.
The crew's surliness turned to unmitigated joy when the sub docked
at Pearl Harbor to provision. The Capitan granted forty-eight hours
liberty and the Swabbies stormed ashore.
Buddy predicted that there would be a lot of full bellies and sore
dicks when the Los Angeles
sailed again. In one respect, he understood how they felt. Now that
he had tasted the "forbidden fruit," he understood that masturbation
was not enough. He needed to be well-bedded. Therefore, he vowed to
find some intimate male
companionship while in port.
The first night, he gave Jeff the slip and traveled into
Honolulu alone. It didn't take him long to find a gay bar; but, he sat
for
hours, fending off admirers. Every time a man approached him, he looked
up from his beer expecting to see Jerry's face. After four hours, he
returned to the ship, thoroughly frustrated.
The next night, he set out for Honolulu again, full of resolve, and
found himself at the same bar. He had just taken a sip of his first
beer when he heard, "Thought I would find you here."
He whirled around and demanded, "What are you doing here Jeff?"
Jeff smiled shyly. "Having a beer."
Buddy snorted derisively and studied the label on his beer can. "How
did you find me?"
"Followed you," Jeff admitted, paying for his beer and taking a sip.
"Why?" Buddy asked, feeling both irritated and elated.
"I was curious," Jeff admitted. "One, you've been acting strangely
since the incident of the red sports car. Two, you talk in your sleep,
about someone named Jerry, and fucking. And three, you've never talked
about all the
girls you've had. So, I added it all up and it came up with 'gay.'" He
took a deliberate swallow of his beer.
Buddy
stared directly into Jeff's eyes. "So, you've got it all figured out,
huh? What are you going to do with your brilliant deduction?"
Jeff gave him a cockeyed smile. "Nothing. I'm just here having a beer
with you."
Buddy decided he could play the game as well. "I've been curious about
you
too. For example, you never talk about the girls you've been with
either."
Jeff gave forth a hearty laugh. "Would it do any good? Look at me. I
look like I'm fucking fourteen years old. Would
the guys believe me if I went bragging about how many girls I fucked on
liberty?"
Buddy raked Jeff's body with his eyes and found him
desirable. And that frustrated him. He scowled, weary of the verbal
sparring and looked at the boy squarely. "Bullshit aside Jeff,"
he said with a slight threat in his voice. "Why are you here? What do
you want from me?"
Jeff blushed, dropping his eyes, unable to look at the man. "I like you
a lot Bud.
We've never talked about what we enjoy, but I thought you and me might
enjoy being with each other tonight, ya know?"
Buddy's tone softened a bit. "What do you have in mind?"
"How about we find ourselves a hotel room?" Jeff suggested, with a
pleading look.
Buddy
was in a high state of need, to be loved and well-bedded. And
Jeff was available. Both nervous and shy, Buddy's heart
fluttered with anticipation, and his penis twitched in his briefs. "Okay."
Silently, they exited the bar and headed down the thoroughfare. At the
next corner, Jeff named a cheap hotel nearby and they turned down a
side street. Buddy took the boy's hand as they walked along. Two blocks
later, Jeff stopped and led Buddy into an alley. Turning, he looked up
at his friend with large, soulful eyes. His lower lip trembled and his
face held the most vulnerable expression Buddy had ever seen. His heart
melted, and he took the boy/man into a tender kiss.
Before the kiss was broken, he felt a hand on the back of his neck. "We
were right about you." Buddy turned to see the two towering
figures of his shipmates, Phil and Tank.
Nodding in the direction of the street, Tank said to Jeff, "You did
your part. Get lost. We'll take it from here." The boy turned and
ran out of sight.
Heart pounding, Buddy asked, "Whaddya want Tank?"
The big man smiled down at him. "We want a cocksucker on the boat for
those lonely nights at
sea." Tank unzipped his pants while Phil pushed Buddy to his knees.
"And right
now, you're gonna give us an audition for the part," he said hauling
his fat cock out of his fly, waiving it in Buddy's face. "Come on, suck
it for me," he said seductively.
With an indignant expression, Buddy looked up at Tank and spat, "I'm
not gonna suck your dick or Phil's either. Now let me go!"
"Aw come on Bud, you're gay. You know you want to suck it."
Buddy glared up at the huge man. "I said no Tank. And that's it!"
At a signal from Tank, Phil pinned Buddy's arms behind him, and Tank
growled, "You don't have a choice asshole. This is a
command performance." He grabbed a handful of Buddy's hair and thrust
his hips forward.
Buddy turned his head. "No!" he screamed.
Tank's face grew red. "I'm not standing out here in an alley with my
dick out for my health, cocksucker. This is yer last warning. Suck my
dick!" Buddy struggled valiantly to free
himself. Tank became more furious by the second.
He pressed his thumb into Buddy's jaw, forcing his mouth open and tried
to shove his cock inside. In the struggle, Buddy bit the thumb.
With a howl of pain, Tank swung his fist at the right side of Buddy's
head. "Suck it!" he yelled.
"No!" Buddy said, tasting blood from his split lip. Tank rained blows
on his head and shoulders while Phil kneed him fiercely in the kidneys.
"Now suck it!" Tank commanded.
"No," Buddy said weakly. He felt a fist crash against the side of his
head, then nothing at all.
He woke to see a face staring down at him, and struggled in vain to
raise
his arms to defend himself.
"Easy son, you have an IV in your arm."
Buddy tried unsuccessfully to speak. "You're safe. I'm Doctor Kimball,
and you're in the base hospital." He smiled ruefully. "Don't try to
talk. You're mouth isn't up to it at the moment." He
fiddled with the IV and continued, "I'm giving you something to make
you sleep, so you'll get some much needed rest."
When Buddy woke again, he felt much better. Kimball was standing at the
foot of the bed flipping through a chart. He heard the boy stir and
smiled down at him. "Ah, you're back with us."
Buddy tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. Kimball extended a
glass, allowing him a sip of water through a straw. "What's the matter
with me?" he croaked.
Kimball crossed his arms in front of him. "Looks like you got mugged
pretty bad. By more than one person I'd say from the look of your
wounds." Buddy nodded. "You have multiple bruises on your face and
back, a split lip, the biggest black eye I've seen in a long time, and
a cut on your cheek that took eighteen stitches to close. The good news
is, you don't have a concussion or any loose teeth. We're going to run
some tests to see whether you have
kidney damage from the blows to your back." He grinned. "All in all,
it appears you lucked out. You're young and healthy, so you'll be out
of here in
no time. The twofold problem you have now is to try to heal and ingest
the
terrible food we'll serve you at the same time."
Buddy laughed in spite of the pain. "When can I go back to duty?"
Kimball shook his head. "Not for a few days. Not until we run some
tests."
There was a soft knock at the door and a Navy Shore Patrol officer
stepped into the room. "May I speak to Mr. Watkins doctor?"
Buddy had screwed up his courage for this interview, and now it was
here. The officer sat next to his bed and produced a note pad and pen.
"Do you know what happened to you night before last Mr. Watkins?"
Buddy replied, "The doctor said I was mugged."
"Yes. Our patrol found you and brought you to the emergency room here.
How many assailants were there?"
"I saw two."
"Can you describe them?"
"It was dark; however, I could tell they were Anglo and wore civilian
clothes."
The officer sighed. "Well, that's that. There's no
way to tell whether they were civilian or military." One corner of his
mouth twitched into a smile as he put away the pad and pen. "If it
makes you feel any better, you weren't the only one that found trouble
that night. We go through this every time a ship docks after a
long stretch at sea." As he turned to leave, he said, "Oh, by the way,
the Los Angeles sails
tomorrow morning."
"Without me?" Buddy asked, wide-eyed.
"Yes. They'll put a temporary radio man on board in your place." He
looked around the room. "You'll get out of here in a few days, then you
can hop a transport to the mainland to catch up with your boat."
After the interview, Buddy felt both blessed and damned. Blessed
because he did not have to name Phil, Tank and Jeff. That would have
required an explanation for the beating. At the same time, he felt
damned because he would be locked in the submarine with them during his
next cruise. He didn't know how he would react, or how they would react
for that matter. In any event, he did not look forward to the
experience.
He was dozing after the evening meal when he felt a presence in the
darkened room. He turned his head to see a form seated beside the bed
sobbing.
Jeff raised his tear stained face and blubbered, "I'm so sorry Bud. I
didn't know they would beat you up."
Buddy turned away. "What are you doing here?"
"I just had to see you before we sailed, to tell you how sorry I was."
Buddy said through clenched teeth,
"You set me up, you son-of-a-bitch."
Jeff pleaded, "They made me do it Bud. I had no choice."
"Whaddya mean?"
"They've got a lot on me that I don't want to get out. So, I had to
help them." At
Buddy's questioning look, he continued, blushing furiously. "Well, I'm
their
pussy boy when we're at sea. They fuck me."
Buddy grimaced. "Why do you go along with them?"
"It
would be my word against the two of theirs. But even if I could get
someone to believe me, I wouldn't say anything. My grandfather is an
Admiral
and my dad is captain of a sub and my brother is an officer on a
carrier. All hell would break loose if it got out that I'm gay."
Buddy's anger cooled. Apparently, the boy was trapped in an untenable
situation. "Why did they target me?"
Jeff barked a mirthless laugh. "They got greedy. They wanted a suck boy
as well as a fuck boy. They knew we were friends, so they threatened me
until I admitted that you might be gay." He burst into deep
wracking sobs. "W-wh-what made it so bad was that I really care for
you. The kiss you gave me that night was the signal to them that you
were gay. But, I wanted that kiss from you more than anything." Buddy
stroked the boy's hair. Jeff looked up through bloodshot eyes. "I had
no idea they would beat you up. I hope you didn't suck 'em."
Buddy shook his head. "Good." Buddy smiled and so did Jeff.
Then, the boy turned serious once more. "They're going to blow the
whistle on
you, ya know. They can't risk having the both of us rat on them."
Buddy considered the statement. Strangely, he realized, it was the
perfect solution. He felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from
him. "If they do, they will be doing me a favor. But, what will happen
to you?"
Jeff grinned wickedly. "Oh, I don't think they'll want any of my
ass for a while. Tonight I told 'em I was going to the hospital for a
checkup because my backside
wasn't feeling too good, and while I was there I was gonna have an AIDS
test. They both got white as ghosts when I said that." He
giggled. "Wish I had thought of that six months ago."
Five days later, Jeff's prediction came true. The day Buddy was
released from the hospital, he was commanded to stand forth and was
separated from the Navy.
As
the bright Hawaiian sun made its way toward the zenith, he stood
outside the gate to Pearl Harbor with mixed feelings. Glancing down at
the one bag holding all his worldly belongings, he smiled in spite of
his sense of confusion. He was pleased to be a civilian again, free to
live a life true to his nature. But, sad that he didn't know where or
how to start living. He refused go home in disgrace--from the
perspective of his friends and relatives--, and he would not lie to
them about
his discharge from the Navy. The thought uppermost in his mind, of
course, was Jerry. It had been months since their weekend together. He
wondered if Jerry even remembered him.
He had to find out, so he hailed
a taxi for the Honolulu airport.
The flight from Hawaii landed in San Francisco at six o'clock Saturday
morning. He took a shuttle into the city and made his way up Powell
Street. He didn't remember the house number, but he remembered the
building and that Jerry lived on the third floor. It was shortly after
7:00 a.m. when he approached the entrance and studied the intercom
system. He pressed the button for the third floor and waited.
A tired, sleepy voice crackled from the speaker, "Yeah?"
Buddy bent forward and spoke into the microphone. "Jerry?"
"Naw, this is Tom. Jerry isn't here."
Buddy's heart squeezed. He quickly apologized for bothering the
individual and walked away in a
daze.
He walked aimlessly for hours until his stomach protested with
hunger pangs he could not ignore. When he found
himself on Polk Street, he chuckled at the irony. He checked into the first hotel he saw and ate
a hasty meal at a nearby cafe. Back in the room, he lay down for an
hour, but was too restless to sleep. He showered, changed clothes and
caught a cab to the Castro District, thinking he would feel less
frustrated among "his own kind."
An hour later, he had just walked out of a fashionable saloon, when
recollection registered in his confused brain. He stopped and turned to
find the
man he had just passed staring at him as well. The beginnings of a
smile flickered around the man's mouth.
"Well, if it isn't the young gladiator that bearded the lion in his own
arena," the man said with an inflection of triumph.
Buddy frowned for a moment, then remembered the fellow. He extended his
hand. "Duane, isn't it? How are you?"
Duane pressed his hand firmly. "Splendid, as usual. And you, dear boy,
are Robert, I believe."
Buddy grinned. "Just Buddy, please. What's this about bearding a lion?"
Duane chuckled. "As I recall, I first met you some months ago near this
very spot holding our Jerry's hand. And, he hasn't been the same since."
Buddy frowned. "I'm sorry. Is he ill?"
Duane smirked. "That depends on your point of view. Suffice to say,
he's changed completely. He now eschews the homo happy hunting grounds,
no longer cruising beautiful boys and surviving to tell us about them
over
brunch." He brushed an imaginary hair from his brow. "He's opted
instead to go the route of true love. He even went so far as to find
someone with whom to construct a love nest."
Tears formed in Buddy's eyes and threatened to spill onto his cheeks.
"Uh, yeah, I know. I flew in this morning and went to his apartment ...
and ... a guy named Tom answered."
"His apartment? Oh no, no, no dear Buddy. That person was not his
significant other. That was the new tenant." He emitted a genuine
laugh. "Jerry's bout with loving bliss lasted approximately thirty
days. He swore to me that every time he looked upon his new beloved, he
saw only your face. Whereupon, he showed the man the front door and
sublet
his apartment--fully furnished, mind you, with all of his worldly
possessions--to the fellow you encountered this morning. Do you now
begin to see what you have done to him?"
While listening to the tale, Buddy's eyes had been getting bigger and
his smile wider. "Then, where is he? Is he still in San Francisco?"
Duane gave Buddy an appraising look. "Quid
pro quo dear boy. First, tell me why you wish to find Jerry."
He gave the man a crooked grin. "I can't get his face out of my mind
either." Then, with a sigh, "God as my witness Duane, I love him."
Duane pursed his lips, then smiled. "Well, it takes all kinds to make
the world. Someone has to do the nasty job of nest building I suppose.
And, Jerry
has a new one, costing some millions I believe. It sits afloat down at
the marina. Berth 42, to be exact. And he lives aboard."
Buddy laughed aloud and hugged the startled man. "Oh thank you! How do
I get there?"
Duane gave him a genuine smile for the first time. "Come on. I'll drive
you." They rounded the corner and piled into Duane's convertible sports
car and roared into traffic.
They
traveled in silence until they stopped in front of the gate to the
berth. Duane pointed to a pennant flying on top of a yacht of
impressive proportions. "He's home. He always flies that flag when he's
on board."
Duane gave Buddy another genuine smile and kissed him on the forehead.
"Now, the gate there is locked. Go stand by it and I'll give him a
call." Buddy stepped out of the car as Duane pressed a speed dial on
his cell phone. Grinning at Buddy, he spoke into the instrument,
"Jerry, Duane here. I've just deposited a gift for you at the gate to
your sanctum sanctorum, but I must run. Do come out and retrieve it
before someone spirits it away. Ta ta."
Buddy giggled. "You're soooo bad. Thank you very much."
"In truth, it was a genuine pleasure. Take good care of him. He's worth
it." He put the car in gear and Buddy watched as it roared away.
"Hello?"
Buddy spun around to see Jerry, key in hand, about to unlock the gate.
Time froze for several heartbeats, then they were both clawing at the
chain link barrier between them, until Jerry finally managed the lock.
Opening the gate, he swept Buddy off his feet and into a breathtaking,
bone crushing kiss. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed the boy's hand and
raced down the dock and into the boat.
In the saloon, they locked in another brief kiss. As they pulled apart,
they said, "I love you," at the same time. Then spontaneous, frenetic
activity ensued. They clawed at their clothing, not caring to whom it
belonged. Buttons flew across the cabin, and the sound of tearing cloth
filled the space. Nude, their lips and hands began attacking flesh. The
accompanying dialog emulated the soundtrack of a XXX-rated video.
Gradually, they sank to the floor. During the ensuing hour, a smaller
boat
would have rocked in time with their movements.
Sweaty, smeared with body fluids and temporarily sated, they cuddled in
the middle of the saloon floor. Buddy lay half on top of his lover's
recumbent figure, nursing contentedly on the stiff nub of his right
nipple, while Jerry's hands lazily roamed the boy's body.
Buddy reluctantly pulled his mouth away from the tasty morsel when
Jerry murmured, "I still can't get my mind around the fact that you're
really here."
"It's a long story, but I'm here." He moved between Jerry's
legs and raised the man's knees to his chest. "I'm right where I want
to be." Taking Jerry's half-hard member into his mouth, he gently
sucked it to full tumescence. Abandoning the cock, he sucked first one,
then the other of his lover's balls until they drew up tight. Next, his
lips and tongue concentrated on Jerry's rectum until it was wet and
willing. Then, he rose and placed the head of his massive column at
the entrance and slowly pressed home.
Panting slightly, he moved forward until his face was above that of his
lover, while Jerry encircled him with his arms and legs. "Yes Jerry,
I'm
exactly where I want to be." His hips began to pump, slowly. "I'm with
you." He sucked Jerry's lower lip for a time. "I never want to be
anywhere else." He kissed his man, deeply, as his shaft coupled with
him. "I thought about you every single day. I saw your face everywhere
I looked. I couldn't think about anything else." He tenderly kissed
Jerry's eyes, ears and throat. The friction of their bodies sent
electric thrills through their nervous systems. "Jerry, I'm in love
with you. I know it now. I love you with all my heart."
They both moaned with pleasure as Jerry began to thrust to meet Buddy's
hips. He pulled Buddy's head down to his lips and explored the boy's
ear. Then he whispered, "Oh God, you have no idea how I've wanted--no,
needed--you here with me." He sucked passionately on Buddy's ear lobe.
"When I left you at Mare Island, I felt like a piece of me was missing."
Buddy lay down flat on Jerry, sucking the soft tissue of his shoulder
while their bodies rocked in perfect unison. Jerry embraced the boy
tightly and whispered, "I love you too, with all my heart."
At length, the men's reaction to their spiritual and physical union
overtook them; murmurs of endearment became
unintelligible; faster and faster their bodies moved as their spirits
soared in unity; each stared into the eyes of the other as their
simultaneous orgasms overtook them; and, silent screams of joy were the
only sounds heard in the room while
their bodies trembled, expelling their passion. Then, muted sighs as
they curled together to rest.
Buddy's head lay on Jerry chest. "Jerry, if you love me and I love you,
I'd like to stay here. I can.
I'm not in the Navy anymore." Then, he told his story of the last few
months, slowly and quietly.
At the end, Jerry enfolded him in his arms. "Oh my poor baby. I
wondered about that scar on your cheek." He stroked the boy's hair.
"But now it's all over. You're safe, and you're home." He held Buddy's
face between his hands. "Please stay with me."
They sealed their union with a kiss, then rose, showered and dressed,
Buddy wearing some of Jerry's clothes.
Jerry took him on a tour of the boat. "It's seventy feet long, bow to
stern. Below,
it has two state rooms and two baths, full galley, dining room and
saloon. On top,
there's the wheel house, lounge and deck. She has plenty of diesel
power and blue water
navigation equipment. She can go most anywhere in the world." On
deck, he
pointed to the pennant fluttering in the breeze. "I fly that when I'm
on board. Do you see the design on it?"
"Yes, but I can't make it out. What is it?" Buddy asked.
"It's the letters R and J, stylized and intertwined." Staring into
Buddy's eyes, he continued. "Of course, it stands for Robert and
Jerome." He smiled at the boy. "I knew we were made for each other,
even if you weren't here. Let me show you something else." He took
Buddy's hand and led him out onto the dock to a point where they could
read the boat's name on the stern.
"It's the Robert W?" Buddy
asked, incredulous.
Smiling proudly, Jerry replied, "None other, Mr. Watkins. If I couldn't
have you in the flesh, then I embodied your spirit here."
Buddy drew him into a sweet kiss. "Make love to me Jerry." They retired
to the large bed in the forward state room and did just that. As Jerry
entered his love, Buddy said, "Now you have me in both body and spirit."
Later, they drove to Polk Street to pick up Buddy's belongings and
check him
out of the hotel. Then, they walked a short way to a
cafe to have dinner. Buddy took a sip of the excellent Cabernet Jerry
ordered and asked, "Why did you trade the apartment for the
boat?"
"As with most things in life, it just sort of happened. After you left,
the apartment and everything in it simply lost its
meaning. At the same time, a friend had a financial reversal and
had to sell his boat. It was a good deal, so I bought it. And, the
minute I walked on board as the owner, I felt at home. I didn't have to
think about it at all; I sublet the apartment and moved on board
with just my clothes and some kitchen stuff." He held Buddy's hand.
"And, I've been happy there, concentrating on what I've come to value
in life."
Buddy leaned in for a sweet kiss. "You named her after me."
"You got it. Now that you are aboard, my life is complete."
Buddy sobered. "Well, I'm here to stay, so tomorrow I had better look
for a job."
For several moments, Jerry didn't respond. He stared into the distance,
deep in thought. "I think
you already have a job. How would you like to be the skipper of the Robert W?"
"Jerry, I can't live off of you. I don't want to be a kept boy."
Jerry
grinned at his love. "Remember that trust fund
that I inherited? Well, after some wise investing on my part, it's now
worth medium eight figures."
Buddy did a quick calculation in his head. "T-that's at least forty
million dollars!"
"At least. So neither of us has to work. Have you ever been to New
York?" Buddy shook his head. "How would you like to take us there
Captain Watkins? Down the coast of Mexico, through the Panama Canal,
across the Caribbean, up the
East Coast, hitting as many ports as we want to see along the way?
Hmmmm?"
Buddy's eyes were big. "We can do that?"
"Um hm. We would have to take some
navigation courses and learn every nut and bolt on that boat. But yes,
in a few months we could be on our way."
They continued to make plans as they exited the restaurant and walked
down Polk Street. Jerry stopped in front of a bar and led Buddy into
it. "This is where we first met."
Buddy chuckled. "Yeah, this is where it all began. Remember that little
incident against the back wall?"
The End
Thanks for reading. If
you enjoyed this story (or not), tell me about it at
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This story and more of my writing is posted at
http://www.jerryleckie.com. In addition, you will find stories by guest
authors and links to great fiction in a variety of categories: adult,
celebrity, college, high school, incest, young friends, science
fiction, bisexual, etc.
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