Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright, dated June 2003, and all provisions of the original disclaimer and assignment remain in force.  All Rights are Reserved.

This story depicts homosexual acts and it is intended for ADULT READERS ONLY.  If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story or you do not approve of such material, please leave.

As always, I appreciate the assistance and skills of my friend, Dean.

All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's by following this link:


If any reader would like to be notified of future episodes to this and/or other stories, please contact me at:

Chapter XXVI

I was sitting in the only chair in the bedroom lacing up my walking sneakers when Dalton came out of the bathroom.  "Do you think this will be all right, Carl?" he asked.

When I looked up, my eyes almost popped, and I felt my heart skip a couple of beats.   He stood in the doorway holding his hair brush in one hand with the other hand on his hip.    I hadn't really paid any attention while we were dressing as to what he was going to wear; but the hip-hugging black low-rise jeans and ribbed lime green knit spandex body shirt caught me by surprise, and I gave a low whistle.  "Damn, Dalt, dressed like that, you'll have every guy and gal in Gaston falling all over themselves."

"Do you like it?" he asked, brushing his thick luxuriant dark brown hair as he moved toward where I was sitting almost in awe at how gorgeous he was.

"Of course, I do; but you haven't dressed like that since I've been home,"  I answered, a deep sense of pride swelling up in my breast.

"That's because Mom and Dad would have a hissy fit, if I did.  You know how stuffy they are," he said, a sparkle in his eyes, as he stopped a foot or two away looking down at me.   "When I saw you were going to wear white chinos and that black knit shirt, I figured it would be all right, at least while we are here."

"Hey, Kiddo, it's okay with me, but you didn't tell me you had clothes like those,"  I replied admiringly, leaning back in the chair for a better look.   "It's a far cry from what you wore when we went to Indianapolis the other day."

"Do you really like 'em, Carl?" he said excitedly, pirouetting in front of me and talking at the same time.  "Lots of the guys at school are dressing this way; you should see Billy.  Wow!!   He really looks hot in tight chinos like those you're wearing."

"Is he the guy you were telling me about; the one you aren't sure is gay?"

"Yeah, Billy Edmunds," he answered, looking at me, his eyes sparkling and a hint of excitement still in his voice.  "He and some Juniors and Seniors started dressing up, wearing more colorful shirts and pants, things that fit better than what most of us were wearing.  At first the teachers complained about it; but they finally gave in when more of the guys and girls started dressing up instead of wearing drab corduroys, overalls and shirts that looked like hand-me downs," he finished, almost breathlessly.

"They don't wear those, do they?" I asked, chuckling and smacking his rump as I passed, going to the bathroom.

"Not exactly, but pretty close," he said, rubbing his rump and following me,   "I've started to change some of my stuff, and Mom and Dad haven't fussed at me yet."

"They won't unless you make a big deal out of it, Dalton.  Just take it slow and don't be too obvious, at least not as obvious as the way you sprang it on me."  I said, grinning at his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror.

"I knew I could get away with it with you, Carlie," he said coquettishly as I turned toward him; and he slipped his arms around my neck, pressing his body to mine, a flame of passion and love burning in the dark brown depths of his eyes. 

The heat radiating between us increased as our lips met, and we kissed long, tenderly and lovingly.  His hard cock pressing against my equally hard rod felt like steel; and I could feel our passions boiling, merging within us as we kissed.   My knees were trembling from the anxiety that enveloped us; and, with his hard muscled chest pressed against mine, I felt his heart racing like a trip hammer.    When he pulled his tongue from my mouth and removed his lips, his eyes locked with mine and he whispered softly, "I know some people think this is wrong, Carlie; but, I love you so much that it hurts inside of me.  I just don't understand how anyone can say it's wrong."

"Dalton," I said softly, holding his head between my hands and gazing into the soft chocolate brown of his eyes, "We live in a crazy world, and there are people who, for whatever their reasons, won't allow others to live their lives like they want to.  Unless we live and conform to what some people believe is the natural order in God's great plan for this universe, we and others like us will always be condemned.  The way we and others who feel the way we do about someone of the same sex  will always be wrong with a big capital 'W' according to these people.  Many of these people, even those who profess to be Christians, can be extremely violent; and most of them will never change their minds.   That is why I've told you that you must be careful when you meet or see someone that you find attractive,"  I whispered, feeling the passion between us cooling as I spoke trying to reassure his fears.

"I know, Carlie, I've heard the way some of the kids talk at school; and it scares me," he sighed, laying his head on my shoulder and hugging me tighter.

"Think, Squirt, think with your head and I don't mean the head of your cock.  Letting your cock think for you could get you into some really deep and dangerous trouble."  I said a little forcefully; trying to emphasize the point without being overbearing or scaring him.

He laid his head on my shoulder, his lips lightly touching my throat; and, feeling the warmth of his breath on my skin as he breathed, I laid my cheek against his soft hair, holding him tightly.  We stood holding each other for several minutes; and, when he didn't say anything, I whispered,  "We can talk about this later, Dalt, okay?  I don't know about you;  but I am really getting hungry; and man does not live by sex alone, at least not at my age. "

"Me too, getting hungry, that is; and you are not old," he replied cheerfully, lifting his head and smiling, a devilish gleam in his eyes.   "If  it's not too late after we finish dinner can we still see what that pavilion place is like?"  He asked enthusiastically as he turned leaving the bathroom, the pungent aroma of my Aramis cologne trailing behind him.

"I don't see why not, Dalt;  but I want to stop and thank Jake and Tracey for the supplies they left," I said, feeling in my pocket to be sure I had the door key before locking it behind us.


We didn't have much daylight left, but there was enough that we should be able to look around the village and maybe pickup a few additional things we were going to need.   When Dalton turned onto the main highway, we could see the pavilion through the trees, sitting at lake's edge. Lighted Chinese paper lanterns had been strung under the overhang of the eaves, and we could see people walking slowly up and down the boardwalk and the beach. 

"I didn't notice those lights before, Carl," Dalt said excitedly,  nodding his head in the direction of the pavilion.

"They've probably been there," I replied, anxiously pointing at the entrance to the parking lot behind Jake's office and trying to get him to turn.   "Watch where you're going, Dalt, or you'll pass the parking lot entrance.

"Oops, sorry," he answered giving me a quick glance as he turned the wheel sharply, just managing to hit the brake pedal and avoid bouncing over the sidewalk.

When he managed to get the car over the sidewalk safely and in the parking lot, we saw a car in Jake's parking place with an empty space next to it.  Dalton parked the car up close to the sidewalk barrier where a couple of teenagers were leaning against it.  They looked at us as if we were crazy and, as I suspected they would, made a few ribald comments as we got out and locked the doors.

At first glance they appeared to be young; and, as we walked around the end of the barrier, we could see that they were teenagers.   Both of the boys were wearing brightly colored cut-off shorts and oversized white T-shirts with rubber shower clogs on their feet.  They both looked to be about the same age as Dalton.  Their dark hair was sun-bleached; and, even in the waning light, we could see they were darkly tanned.  As we approached, one boy swung around toward us; and, hefting his hip up on the barrier, said, " You got a pretty cool looking ride, Dude.  What's she got under the hood?"

"I'm not really sure, Dude," Dalton answered, stopping in front of the one who had spoken, using the teenage vernacular that most boys his age used when communicating with a peer.   "I guess it would do okay, but I've never tried it out." I heard him say; and I stopped, turning to look at him but not saying anything.

"You don't want to around here; the cops watch the highway pretty closely because of all of the tourists." The other boy said in a low voice, glancing at me and then at Dalton.

"Nah, not here; not in the village," the first boy said in agreement as he turned around, leaning his head back and looking up at Dalton standing over him and then stretching his tanned, lean muscled but well-formed legs in front of him as he continued.  "When they want to see who has the hottest car, most of the local guys who have wheels, go up on Hillman Road north of town after the pavilion closes.  A few girls tag along, but it's mostly guys.    There are only a few cottages up that way, but the cops give us a break as long as no one complains."

"I don't think drag racing is on our agenda, Fellas, if that is what you're talking about," I said, interrupting as I moved closer to where they were sitting. "What do the tourists do while they are here?" I asked.

The impromptu conversation lagged briefly when the two boys heard me, and then the one who might have been a year or two older than the first boy who had spoken to Dalton laughed softly and said,  "They do what most of them like doing while they're here: swimming, sailing boats, fishing,  lying on the beach trying to get a sun tan, dancing in the pavilion or a couple of the bars.  The pavilion is the most fun after the older people leave for then the disc-jockey plays the kind of music kids like."

"That sounds like where we want to go later, Carl," Dalton said glancing at me quickly; and I could see by the twinkle in his eyes he was excited.  

"Maybe," I answered him,  noticing the way his eyes were moving over the younger boy's out-stretched legs and lingering at crotch level but not seeing anything in evidence because of the bagginess of his shorts. "Right now, though, I'd like to see Jake before he closes."

"Jake Ballard, the real estate guy?  He's is still inside; but Tracey, his kid, has gone home; at least I think she has.  You'll like her, she's one hot chick."  The younger boy said, looking up at me, his eyes lighting up.

"We met them the other day when Carlton rented the cottage where we're staying," Dalton said glancing at me before offering another typical teenage observation.  "They seemed to be cool."

"Tracey is, but her old man keeps a pretty close eye on her since his old lady died." The older boy said standing up and stretching as he turned to where his younger companion was sitting and said, "Come on, Tip, or we're going to be late for supper; and you know how pissed Mom gets if we're late."

"Are you guys brothers or something?" Dalton asked, glancing at me and stepping back as the younger boy stood up.  "Carlton's my brother, and my name is Dalton."

"Brothers," the older one said matter-of-factly.  "Sometimes I don't claim him, but he can't help being my kid brother.  He's Tip; and I'm Lyle.  Coleman is the last name, but no one ever uses anyone's last name, not here anyway.  We meet people for the summer and then most of the time never see 'em again. 

"Then you guys are locals?" I asked cautiously, feeling a little warmer about them now that we had introduced ,or rather, Dalton had introduced us with his usual exuberance.

"Born and raised here, Carlton, but we won't hold being tourists against you; will we, Lyle?  We've met some pretty cool kids, and, " Tip answered almost as exuberantly as Dalton and looking at his brother, he wrinkled his nose at him as he continued,  "This one might be my older brother; but he's only eighteen, just a year and a few months older than me."

"Hey, Jerk, get your skinny ass in gear and lets go; or we're gonna catch hell from Mom," The older brother, Lyle, said, a little irritated.

Dalton glanced at me quickly before saying, "If you guys are gonna be out after you eat, maybe we'll see you around?"

"We'll be at the pavilion,"  Tip said as he did a quick bounce step and jogged to catch up with his brother who was crossing the roadway in the direction of the road that led to where our cottage was.

Watching them as they moved away, I noticed that Lyle, the older of the two, looked back over his shoulder at us as they disappeared around a large clump of pampas grass.  His demeanor brought back memories of when I was his age. He was cautious and slightly sullen but more careful in what he said, than his brother.  He had only given Dalton and me a few cursory looks, but I saw a veiled glint in his eyes that activated a feeling that there was more to him than he was allowing us to see, and my "gaydar" sensed what it might be.  Both of them were middle height, almost the same as Dalton and I.  Their sloppy clothes did not completely hide that they appeared to be well developed physically, especially Lyle.   He was a little heavier than Tip, but not quite as well developed as Dalton.  Tip was in the early stages of his upper muscular development, and the muscles in his legs showed that he might be a swimmer.  They both had thick brown eyebrows with full lips and square jaws. The distinctive difference between them was that Tip had deep brown eyes not unlike Dalton's, while Lyle's seemed to be a light reddish-brown hazel.

"They seemed to be pretty nice; didn't they, Carl?" Dalton asked as we walked toward Jake's office.

"Unh huh, pretty nice," I answered half-absentminded, still musing over the inevitable mystery involved in a chance encounter with two good-looking young men.


The little bell attached to the door of Jake's office tinkled loudly as we entered; and Jake, looking up from where he was sitting, bounced up, greeting us.  "Hey, Guys, what time did you get in?  Late I'll bet," he said as he came toward the low office railing with his hand extended.

"Hi, Jake.  It was late or early, depending on whose time table was used.  We got in around midnight," I answered while we shook hands.

"Did you find everything in order?"  he asked, smiling broadly.

"Just like you said it would be, Jake.  You and Tracey shouldn't have bought all of that food, but we appreciate your thinking of us.  Especially the coffee, I would have been a wreck without morning plasma.  Is Tracey here?  We'd like to thank her too," I said, looking around the office expectantly although I knew she wasn't there.

"I'm sorry, Carl, you just missed her by about a half hour.  She went home early to fix supper;  but, if you guys are going to be at the pavilion later, you'll probably run into her; and you can tell her then, if you want to."  Jake answered as he leaned against the edge of Tracey's desk.

"She's gonna be there, Jake, at the pavilion, I mean?" Dalton asked.

"She and probably every other kid in Gaston, Dalton.  That is the only place the kids have where they can hang out," Jake said smiling.  "You will probably like it, but I'm not sure about you Carl; the music gets pretty loud after the senior citizens leave."

"I can handle it, Jake.  If it gets too loud, I can always stuff  paper napkins in my ears," I said, chuckling under my breath and smiling back at him, thinking about how much he reminded me of Jerry Hawes, solid, good-looking with both feet firmly planted on the ground. 

"It does seem like that is the only place where kids can go, Jake,  from what a couple of guys hanging out front told us,"  Dalton said, still looking around the office.

"Ahhhh, that would be Lyle and Tip, the Coleman brothers." he replied, grinning, after thinking for a moment.  "They hang around hoping I'll have some odd jobs they can do.  Tip is still in school, junior or senior year I believe, but Lyle is thinking about joining the Army.  At least, I think he is; but I'm not that sure whether he is or not; Lyle, doesn't talk as much as his brother."

"I got that impression while we were talking with them," I said, glancing at Dalton before asking Jake about a good restaurant.

"Can you steer us to a good place to eat, Jake?"

"Sure can, but I'm sure Tracey would love having you over for dinner.  What about it, I can call her and she can add more water to the soup," he said grinning with a twinkle in his eyes.

I looked at Dalton; but, from the way he was fidgeting and looking out the front windows,  I could see he wasn't interested; and  politely declined his invitation.

"Thanks for the invitation, Jake," I answered.  "There are a few other things we need to do after we eat that will take up some time.  Can we take a rain-check?"

"Any time, Carl, the door is always open.   The Lone Pine Grill is my favorite, but I'm going to be in hot water when Tracey finds out I couldn't talk you into coming home with me, and she will give me hell for not twisting your arms." He said as he came from behind the barrier and walked with me to where Dalton was waiting.   "Turn left when you get outside," he continued,   "and you'll see it down the street on your left; it's only a couple of blocks.  If you guys still plan on going to the pavilion, you'll probably run into her.  She said she might see if you were going to be there, and now I know she will when she finds out I goofed and didn't get you to come for dinner at our house." he said as he opened the door, clapping me on the shoulder as I followed Dalton out the door.

"If we see her, Jake, we'll get you off the hook," I said cheerfully.

"I don't think it will do much good, Carl; but I appreciate it." He called after us.


The sun had dropped behind the trees while we were in Jake's office.  The sky was infused with brilliant streaks of orange, red and gold, reminding me of an old mariners' saying, "red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in the morning, sailors take warning."  I had heard it often enough when at sea to know that it was usually pretty close to being accurate; and, as often as I had heard sailors scoffing about it's being just an old sailors' tale, most of us took it pretty seriously. 

However, from the casual way Dalton was looking around as we walked shoulder to shoulder through the increasing throngs of pedestrians, I gathered that he, on the other hand, didn't have a worry in the world about what the weather would be like. I smiled to myself trying to remember when in my twenty-seven years I had ever been that way.  It was difficult to remember.

There was a sprinkling of older and middle aged folks; but, by and large, there were groups of laughing teenagers and young people in their early twenties.  I couldn't help but see several heads turning and glancing admiringly as we passed.   A few girls looked; but, I saw more than one young man's eyes seem to linger in Dalton's direction.   Whether it was from the way he was dressed or just his being the good looking kid he was I don't know, but  a feeling of pride swelled up inside of me.  I might have puffed my chest out just a little, but I couldn't tell  whether he noticed it or not.

The restaurant Jake had recommended was small; and when we entered an older lady dressed in a brilliant red blouse with puffed sleeves and a voluminous black skirt and holding several menus smiled and greeted us cordially, her black eyes shining.   After we told her there were just two of us for dinner, she bowed slightly at the waist and escorted us to a booth just off the entrance where we could look out the windows while we ate.  The menu was not extensive, and that indicated to me that it was probably a family operated restaurant which usually meant quality food.

I ordered a lager beer for myself and an iced tea for Dalton.  He gave me a hurt look before acquiescing to the order, and I grinned, whispering, "That's what you get, Squirt, for being so anxious to leave while we were at Jake's."

His eyes widened with an innocent "who me" look; and then, looking sheepish, he leaned forward and whispered, "I'm sorry, Carlie, but I just knew you were going to accept his dinner invitation, and that would have ruined the evening.  I just wanted it to be you and me tonight.   You aren't mad at me, are you?"

"I should be, but how could I ever be angry when I loved him as much as my own life," I mused to myself, looking into the limpid dark depths of his eyes and then fibbing, "Maybe just a little, Dalt;  but, just as I've been trying to tell you, you've got to learn how to be patient."

"I'm trying to," he said softly, almost apologetically, and then falling discreetly silent when he noticed a young lady approaching with our drinks. After she placed the drinks on the table, she asked if we were ready to order or if we needed a few more minutes.  We both ordered prime rib with baked potato and salad. 

Dalton consumed his meal as only a teenager can, but I didn't have anything to be ashamed of.   Jake was right; the food was delicious; and, even though the home-made desserts sounded scrumptious, we passed.   While I paid the bill, the lady who had greeted us thanked me profusely, inviting us back again; and I assured her we would return.

While we were having our dinner, the sun had set; and a raven-black sky was ablaze with millions of sparkling diamonds.  The temperature had dropped, and the breeze blowing through the trees was a little cooler than it had been earlier in the day, but it was still warm.   Several store front window signs cast a kaleidoscope of color onto the sidewalks; and it was surprising to see that the street lights were actually gas lanterns, not the usual halogen lamps.  Several people were doing window shopping;  while others, who were leaving restaurants as Dalton and I were, seemed to be strolling casually in the general direction of the pavilion.


Dalton and I found the items we would be needing for the rest of our stay; and, while I was placing them in the trunk of the Pony,  I heard Dalton exclaim, "Carl, look over there, over there by that picnic table, isn't that Tracey?" 

Trying to close the trunk lid, I attempted to look over my shoulder in the direction he was indicating; but I couldn't see whom he was talking about while I was trying to close and lock the trunk.  I grunted, "I can't tell, Dalton; but you better hold this lid down so that I can lock it, or the key might break off," I said, cursing Jimmy Baxter under my breath for not making sure the lock worked before we drove off the lot.  

"Damn, Carl, I didn't think about it; but, if we had checked the spare tire before we left the car lot, we would have found that something was wrong with it," he said, turning around to push down on the lid.

 "The lock might need a shot of graphite, or the lid may be sprung slightly;  but, you're right, it should have been checked," I said in answer to his observation as the key slipped out of the lock.

Handing him the key ring, I looked in the direction where he said Tracey was; and there was a girl who looked like her standing in the dim light of one of the Chinese lanterns.

"It's she, isn't it?" He asked, breathing a little heavily after helping me.

"It looks like it might be she," I said and then noticed another person standing next to her.  "Isn't that someone with her on the other side of the table?"

"Yeah, it looks like it,"  he replied.

At the distance we were away from where she was, the other person could have been a girl or a boy; but, in the dim light and from the slimness of the other person's figure, it appeared to me to be another girl.   I could tell from Dalton's tone of excitement that he was anxious to see whether it was Tracey, so I said , "Jake said she might be here, so lets go see whether you're right or not; but be careful, the grass is probably slippery and the light is not good."

The grass wasn't really very slippery, but the lighting was not good and the ground did slope downward.   We could have used the asphalt pathway, and I would have; but Dalton started out across the grass, motioning for me to follow.

"Damn; why do teenagers have to be so impetuous?" I groused under my breath as I gingerly followed him.

I was still a good twenty or thirty feet behind him when he reached who we thought was Tracey, and I heard him call out,  "Hey, Carl, it's Tracey." Then I heard him saying as I covered the last few feet, joining them on level ground, "We thought it was you, Tracey; but we weren't sure."

"You've got good eyesight, Dalton," she said answering Dalton.  Then looking at me and grinning at my discomfort she said teasingly, "How was your dinner, Carl?  Dad told me he had to give you guys a rain-check when he asked you over."

"I'm sorry about that, Tracey, but we didn't want to impose, and we did have a few other things we needed to do after we ate. I hope we aren't intruding," I said, apologizing and glancing at the other girl with her.

"No, not really.   This is my friend, Carla.  Carla, these are the good looking hunks I was telling you about, Carlton and Dalton Evers.  They're renting a cottage from Dad for the week."  She said with an amused but impish grin.

"I'm not sure about being hunks, Carla, but it's nice meeting you," I said, nodding my head and looking at another equally amused and beautiful face.

"Yeah, it's nice meeting you, " Dalton chimed in quickly before Tracey's friend could reply. 

"The feelings are mutual," Carla replied in a beautiful, lyrical voice.  "Trace was telling me about you and Dalton, and I agree that she's right."

"Keep that up and you'll have us blushing.  We just met Tracey the other day, and I'm sure she is being a little overly complimentary." I said, noticing even in the dim light that Dalton's complexion had darkened from hearing Carla's compliment.

"I am not, Carl," Tracey said feigning a pout and pursing her lips before grinning and asking, "Are you going to be dancing?"

"I don't know how to dance," Dalton blurted out, having recovered from bring unexpectedly complimented. "But I bet Carl does, dontcha, Carl?"  he said, succeeding in putting his foot in his mouth without thinking about what he was saying before he said it.

"A little, but its been some time since I have; and I really hadn't thought about dancing.  Mostly we were just going to check it out," I said, quickly giving Dalton a sharp look.

"We can't let them get away with that, can we, Trace?" Carla said, looking at Tracey with an impish gleam in her dark eyes as she moved closer into the light.

I was struck with her aquiline beauty and her well-formed and trim shape.  Her straight, dark brown hair framed her face; and a pert nose separated her dark brown, slightly almond shaped eyes accented by full sensuous lips.  Being gay didn't prevent me from admiring a beautiful girl; and, from her features, I suspected her ancestry was probably Eurasian.  She was the same height as Tracey who was a beautiful girl in her own right, and they made a striking couple.

I glanced  at  Dalton again before speaking, but he was paying more attention to the girls than me.  Just at that moment Tracey spoke, interrupting my thoughts concerning my reply to Carla's implied but unspoken challenge.

"That's for sure," Tracey replied, following up with an invitation to join them.

The invitation elicited an exuberant, "Great, let's go," from Dalton; and I breathed in deeply, cringing inside as I exhaled, pretty sure that he did not know what he was letting us in for.

Tracey and Carla were a few feet in front of us, so hoping they wouldn't hear me, I whispered to, Dalton, "I thought you wanted it to be just you and me tonight?

"I did," he whispered back, "but then I got to thinking it might be better if we were with a people we know, and we know Tracey and now Carla."

"You may be right; just be careful and watch what you say," I said softly, acknowledging the logic of his thinking but still remaining a little apprehensive at what the evening might hold.