Date: Wed, 14 Jul 2010 21:41:01 -0700 (PDT) From: H. Rick Cantwell Subject: Sea Breeze SEA BREEZE jockhunger@yahoo.com Being posted on this site constitutes copyright ownership is mine. Observe all law! Sea Breeze Seniors' Day at the Snow Snake Gulch Indian Reservation Casino and Resort was the last place I expected to see lust rear its randy head. It was also the most unlikely place for my adolescent homoerotic fantasies to finally come to life. My ex-wife, my current girlfriend and even my son weren't aware that I occasionally had an appreciative eye for a good-looking man. I had never acted out any of my fantasies, although I'd always thought I'd like to. But from the look in the eye of the young man in the lobby across from the casino entrance, HE must have known. He was sitting in the center seat of a three-man bench crafted from several elk horns. His elbows were resting at odd angles on the back, affording him a provocatively tilted pose. With his feet and knees spread wide, his legs provided a focal point right into his crotch. Damn the `baggy pants' look! I thought. As I started to climb the steps to the casino entrance, I saw his forlorn look. Deciding not to take the stairs, I skirted the railing so I could saunter casually up the wheelchair ramp to get a better look at him. I looked away when I saw him make eye contact. With every other step, I'd glance over at him, only to find him brazenly staring back at me. "Hi, again," he said as I got closer. I turned my head to look over my shoulder to see who he was talking to. Those standing around weren't within thirty feet and there was only one elderly couple shuffling along toward us. "Uh, again?" I asked, stopping to look at him quizzically. 'I'd definitely remember this young stud, if I'd ever met him,' I thought. 'He's obviously got me confused with someone else'. "At the pool this morning," he said. My mind fled back five hours to recall the moment. While my Dad was enjoying the bubbling caresses of the whirlpool, my senses were being titillated by a slender young buck who was doing laps in the pool. A little young for my taste, I had thought at the time. But even after thinking that, every time he climbed out before diving back in, I focused on a different area of his body. Brownish hair slicked back away from his high forehead. Thin horizontal smudges of eyebrows complimented the long, thin vertical line of his nose. As he blinked water away from his eyes, hazel-to-almost-golden orbs flashed like an intersection caution light. A long, thin neck that Nefertiti would have envied flowed down to the shoulders and pecs of an Olympic-class swimmer. His waist was almost too tiny for the flaring hips holding up his swimwear. 'Ah, and there's the flaw!' I thought. Apparently the young lad hadn't brought a swimsuit so he was wearing navy blue boxers under tan cargo-style shorts. The water turned his cargo pants transparent and caused them to cling to his legs and ass... and crotch. Because they were normally baggy, however, there were so many folds I couldn't make out any definition in his package. "You told me my lips were turning blue," the young man said, wresting me from my reverie. "So I got out to warm up in the hot tub. Thanks." "Uh, you're welcome. I didn't recognize you with your clothes on." Seeing his eyes flash past my left shoulder, I turned just in time to see the old couple passing behind me, mouths apparently agape from my comment. "And your hair is all dry and... blonde... and fluffy... after your early morning swim... this morning... in the pool... where you were doing laps...." I stammered as the couple toddled past slowly. "In my swimsuit," the young man added. "In your..." I stopped talking as he giggled hysterically. "Oh, man! If you could see your face right now." "I'm so sorry," I said. "That must have been too embarrassing for you." "Hell, no! It's the most fun I've had since I got here." "You're not saying that just to make me feel better, are you?" "No," he said, still chuckling a little. "I saw you sitting here, looking like you'd lost your best friend. It just made me feel so..." "Yeah, eighteen sucks at a casino." "I'll bet." "You can. I can't." "What?" "Bet." "Sorry," I said. "I guess that's kinda like saying `I see' to a blind man." "Exactly." "So why are you here, then?" I asked. "Family vacation. Or as my Rents call it, `my graduation present.' Mom and Dad are hitting all the major beaches along the Great Lakes." "That sounds like fun. Especially for a swimmer," I said. "Mind if I sit?" As he slid to one side, he said, "For the most part it is, except for those that just happen to be near casinos." "Oh," I said, as if I understood. "The sun and surf must be right up your alley." "Lane." "Lane?" I asked. "Swimmers swim in lanes. It's a play on words. I do that a lot to occupy my time." "What's that?" "Take a word or phrase and put a nautical connotation to it. So, was that your brother you were with this morning?" "Uh, excuse me! That was my father," I said, somewhat insulted. 'I'm only thirty-four,' I thought, 'not fifty-two, like Dad.' "Then he looks damn good for his age. He looks like he could be your older brother." "You know just the right thing to say to older people, don't you?" He flashed me a smile that was difficult to pinpoint as to whether it was angelic or demonic, but it grabbed my attention, nevertheless. It was so captivating I just couldn't take my eyes off it. 'He could strip naked and I wouldn't look away from that smile. Well, just for a moment, maybe. Probably. Okay! Definitely! But just for a moment,' I thought. "My name's Drake, what's yours?" "Richard, but I go by Richard, not Rick, Dick or Rich." "So how come you left as soon as I joined you in the hot tub?" Again, in a quick flashback I saw him sinking nipples-deep into the tub. Even now, that memory caused the beginnings of a hard-on in my groin as I said, "Dad had just told me we needed to get to breakfast before they closed the buffet." "Hummm," Drake said. "I wouldn't have taken him for the `Wrinkle Club' crowd." I had heard that term used when I was in the Air Force to refer to bars where old men went to regale each other of all the gay adventures they had during their youth. Occasionally, a young man interested in finding a sugar daddy would grace the bar with his presence. "Wrinkle Club?" I asked, wondering what his meaning of the term meant. "Seniors who have money to burn but clip coupons and go to all-you-can-eat buffets to save money." "Well, in his defense, my dad was raised by parents who lived through a massive depression, so he grew up being frugal." "And you?" "I guess I'm from a different generation. I have a successful Internet business and I live comfortably. I'm not wealthy, but I'm better off than most." "I can see that." "What do you mean?" "At my age I get to sit a lot and observe. Take this morning for instance. When the elevator doors opened, everyone headed to the casino. I headed for the pool. When I saw you and your dad in there, I thought, 'Those guys know how to get the most enjoyment out of life. A little pool and spa, a little breakfast, some casino time-all things in moderation.'" "Bingo, actually. Dad's at bingo. But how can you be so sure about the moderation part of it?" "If you were addicted to gambling, you'd be in there right now," Drake said with a nod of his head toward the casino's entrance. A soft blond curl fell across his forehead because of the sudden motion, giving him the rakish appearance of a swashbuckling young pirate. "Instead, you're talking with me." "Yeah," I said with a frown like he was keeping me from something important. "Why is that?" I resisted the urge to gently brush the errant curl from his face even though it threatened to poke him in the eye. Drake squirmed uncomfortably on the bench seat. "Not the most comfortable work of art, is it?" "Do you have to wait here for your folks?" "No. Why?" he asked with a quizzical smirk to his smile. "The hotel lobby has overstuffed leather furniture you can lose yourself in. We could go down there." "We don't have a room here," Drake said gloomily. "I do-we do, Dad and I. Want to get comfortable?" I asked. "Sure," he said brightly, with that remarkable smile returning to his face. As he stood, I saw a protrusion trying to punch its way past the zipper of his baggy cargo pants. 'Ah, to be young and get horny at anytime, anywhere', I thought. It used to embarrass me. Now I think I'd get a thrill from it. On our short walk to the hotel lobby I asked, "So you're only here for the day?" "Two days, actually." "And no room?" "The camper and the boat are in the RV parking area. If the casino has RV parking, the Rents stay two nights just to give them time to dump and fill." "Dump and fill?" "Dump the honey pot...." Seeing a blank stare on my face he said, "the toilet. Then they fill the water tanks and recharge any battery-powered equipment." "I didn't know this place even offered that stuff," I said, plopping down into the soft filling of a two-man sofa. With a wave of my upturned palm toward the empty seat, I said, "Be my guest." "If a place offers anything for free, my dad knows about it-in all fifty states and parts of Canada. Sometimes I think he'll drive fifty miles out of his way just to save a buck." "Spend ten to save two?" "You got that right," Drake said as he squirmed around so his back was to the corner of the sofa. He brought his right knee up toward the back into a more comfortable position while his left foot remained on the floor. "But it's got to be a nice place. Nothing tawdry." "Tawdry? Now, there's a word you don't hear often." "I read a lot," Drake said somewhat apologetically. "Well, I'm glad he chose this one," I said. Then thinking about the implications of that remark, I said, "I'm not real big on casinos and even worse with bingo. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'll keep you company for as long as you can tolerate me. I just can't imagine you wanting to spend time with someone my age, though." I twisted slightly so we could see each other while we talked. "Age is a state of mind." 'This from a kid half my age', I thought. "If the truth be known," Drake said, "I prefer to be with older guys. They seem so much more... I don't know..." "Mature?" With a chuckle he said, "Yeah, I think that's it." Then that killer smile again. "You said `guys.' Have you broken up with your girlfriend?" "Never had one. Swimming practice took up all my time. Besides, I'm... uh, kind of a... loner. Sort of...." Drake said looking around the lobby to see if anyone was looking. "Sorry. I didn't mean to pry." "That's okay, cuz I was kinda wanting to ask you something anyway." "What's that?" "Uh," he said, canvassing the lobby again. "Could we go to your room?" "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure your folks wouldn't like it if you went to some strange man's room without them knowing it. I know I wouldn't want Ricky to do it." "Ricky?" "My son. That's why I stick with Richard." "Oh," Drake said, gloomily. "What's the matter?" I asked with genuine concern, thinking I'd somehow hurt his feelings. "I just thought... oh, it doesn't matter." "Yes it does. You can tell me anything. Figure it this way. I can't tell anyone you know because I don't know them... and besides, you'll never see me again after tonight anyway." A tear formed in his left eye but refused to spill when I said that. "It's not that." Drake said, trying to maintain his composure. "I don't care who knows. In fact, my folks already know. It's just that I thought... well, when I saw you with another guy in the hot tub, I thought...." "Thought what?" "No, I can't tell you. You'd be insulted." "Trust me. There's nothing you can say that I haven't already heard." "From the way you kept looking at me, I thought you were gay," Drake said. Flabbergasted, I said, "Okay. Maybe there is something I haven't heard." The tears threatened to spill over again. I stood up and extended my hand to Drake who gripped it. Pulling him up out of the folds of the sofa, I pushed him toward the door where the charter busses let their passengers out. I thought, 'There will be fewer people out here in the... I think it's called a porte cochere.' "Drake! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's okay. Really. It's not a problem that you thought I was gay." "Really?" he sniffled. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and putting one hand behind his head, held his face to my chest. "It's only a word, kid. Not good, not bad. It's only a word. It describes people who are different from other people, just like `Indian' describes Native Americans, or `Chicano' describes people of Mexican descent." "But gay has a bad implication." "Not to me it doesn't." "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?" "No. But I'd like to think I could say something that would make you feel better." "You already have," Drake said sniffling. "Good. How about if we just walk around and talk?" "Okay. I'd offer the use of the camper... but Dad has the keys and he's in the casino. . . and you don't know him... so you couldn't go in and ... you know, like find him... to get the keys... and...." "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. Don't be so defensive. Besides, it might be too tempting anyway." "What would?" "Having a bed so close." "I wouldn't rape you. I promise," Drake said with a slight smile, a mere hint of his normal one. "Damn, and I thought I was gonna get lucky on this trip," I said, offering him my cockeyed smile. "You're joking with me, right? Just to make me feel better." "Yeah, I guess I am," I said none too convincingly. "You guess? You mean you're not sure?" Drake said, his mood brightening. "Not really. You see, I've always wanted to do something like this, but I never have. And I certainly wouldn't expect someone your age to find me attractive." "Oh, but you are. I told you, I love older guys." "Nevertheless, I'm twice your age. I have a son your age, for Christ sake!" "So?" "Well, I'd feel..." "I hope you'd feel fine once we're done, but if not, you'd finally know for sure, wouldn't you?" Drake said convincingly. "Drake, you have no idea how wonderful it makes me feel to think someone your age would be interested in me. Every man my age starts to wonder if he's still attractive-no, desirable-but the truth is...." Drake interrupted me saying gloomily, "The truth is that you can't do anything with a guy. I understand. Not everybody's gay. I know that." "No! I mean, yes, but I'm not sure it's the right thing to do." "Just so you know, Richard, you're very desirable-at least to me. So I can't see why any... younger girl wouldn't be attracted to you. I just wish it could be me," he sniffled. "We could go to your room." "No we can't." "Why?" Drake implored. "No one would know. The clerks in the lobby don't check who's getting on the elevators or anything! I checked them out carefully." "Drake, I'm flattered and I'd love to, but Dad has a key," I said as we strolled along admiring the gardens and fountains as we went. "He's at Bingo. That won't be over for a couple of hours," Drake argued, enthusiastically. Pointing at the hard-on tenting my trousers, he said, "Besides, that's telling me you'd like to." "He'll come back to the room during the snack break," I said as I slid my hands into my pockets to adjust my erection into an upward position. "How can you be sure?" "He's pee shy. Well, actually, he can't do the other in a public toilet and he'll have to. That's a given. He's as regular as clockwork." "Oh," Drake said with an expression of pure defeat. "We can still sit and talk. It's not quite the same as doing it, but at least you're not alone." The thoughtful expression on Drake's face gave me the impression he wasn't listening to a word I said. "I've got it!" he said brightly. "Come on." He grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction of the RV parking lot. Once out of earshot of everyone entering and leaving the casino, I said with mock haughtiness, "Are you taking me into the woods to have your way with me?" "You're such a landlubber," he said with a grin. "You've gotta think nautical." I slowed my pace as we approached a fourteen-foot camping trailer hitched to a monster 4WD vehicle. Behind it was a speedboat on a tag-along trailer. "Having second thoughts?" Drake asked as he felt me slow down. "Or can't you keep up with me, old man?" Again, his infectious grin thwarted any insult I might have sustained from his age reference. "Isn't this yours?" I asked, looking at the camper. "I wish! Then I could travel by myself. You know, not being saddled with the Rents." The only other `camper' in the lot was a motor home about thirty feet long and it had a twenty-five foot cabin cruiser behind it. Grabbing my hand, he nudged me toward it. "There's a ladder on the other side," Drake said as he dragged me around the behemoth. "Is Noah at home or are you in charge of feeding the animals?" I asked, as I looked skyward toward the gleaming brass railing. It glinted back at me, momentarily blinding me. "It just looks huge because it's on the trailer. Once it's in the water, it doesn't seem so big. Come on, follow me." Using the wheel-well fender to get a leg up, Drake stretched to put his right leg on the bottom rung of the ladder and began his ascent. Not to be outdone, I followed his moves. As my chest and belly hugged the rail, I swung my legs into the boat. Standing slightly bent over I said, "I think I pulled a groin muscle." "I'll take care of it," Drake said. "In the meantime, I've got a groin muscle you can pull." Grabbing my hand, he led me down three steps into the forward cabin. As he turned around to look at me, his cargo pants fell to the deck. 'That explains the tenting problem', I thought, 'he's not wearing underpants.' "Don't be shy," Drake said. "I've seen all size dicks. And there's not a one I wouldn't want to suck." My eyes got as big as one of those round life preservers. "Don't get me wrong! I'm not a slut. I've only been with three other guys. But that doesn't mean I haven't looked." "Oh," I said, feeling not-so-worldly, knowing I'd only been to bed with maybe ten women-at the most. "And the first one doesn't count." "Why's that?" "I was like twelve and all we did was touch each other's dick. We didn't even jack-off." "Well, I haven't even done that with another man." Thrusting his hips toward me, his hard-on bobbing in the process, he said, "Go ahead, feel it. It's awesome. And I'll get you undressed," he said while he pulled his T-shirt off over his head. Looking at that lithe body and his formidable cock caused me to want to just worship him. I simply stared at him. He slowly unbuttoned my shirt and pulled the sleeves off my arms. Then he gently grabbed my right wrist and brought my hand in contact with his cock. I could feel the heat radiating off of it before I ever made contact with it. Instinctively, my fingers wrapped themselves around Drake's cock. He shuddered at my touch. As I gently stroked his cock, he got me out of my trousers. Looking down at my upright hard-on bulging my white briefs he asked, "We're not going too fast, are we?" With a quiver in my voice, I said, "No, this is fine. If we go any slower, I just might chicken out." "Not while I have a grip on this" he said as he snatched my underpants down and grabbed my cock . " your `chicken of the semen'. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep from shooting my load at his touch. My whole body trembled from the need for sexual release. It was only then that I realized I had been building to this state of arousal since I first saw him this morning. 'Almost six hours of sexual torment', I thought, 'so I guess it wouldn't really qualify as premature ejaculation if I squirted right now.' "Wow! You almost cummed," Drake said. "Man! Do I do that to you?" he asked, his voice reflecting a desperate need for it to be true. I looked longingly into his eyes, my lips parted slightly and my head tilted as it moved toward his. He moved into me, our bare chests touching as our lips met. As I stuck my tongue into his mouth, his fingers tightening around my cock did nothing to stem the flow of cum that spurted out of his cock, however. As the first squirt splashed my belly, I palmed the head of his cock to capture some of his jism. His jolts subsided after about six volleys. Using his sperm as lubricant, I twisted my palm back and forth around the sensitive flange of his corona. While still kissing, his legs trembled and small bursts of air gusted into my mouth as he huffed uncontrollably. Pulling insistently on my cock, he moved to a bench padded with flotation cushions. We toppled onto the seat like waves crashing onto a beach, me on top of him. My weight trapped his hand, mercifully keeping it from moving until I could calm down. However, his cooling jism pressing between us wasn't helping to quell my need to cum. "Let me get you off," Drake begged. "I like to take my time," I said. "Unlike you, you little sea monkey, I can't cum twenty-four hours a day." "Me neither! I need an hour to sleep," he said, humping his hips. My cockhead, extending past his fist, came in contact with a pool of his jism and I shuddered. Drake withdrew his hand, so I did, too. He grabbed mine and licked his cum from my palm and fingers. In between licks and slurps, he said dreamily, "I've never kissed another guy before. And after today, I never want to again." "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to ruin it for you." Still in that stargazing tone he said, "Oh, dude, you didn't. That was the best experience of my whole life and no one will ever be able to compare to it. Oh, man! That was ten times better than my first orgasm. That was terrific, but the orgasm and the unexpectedness of the kiss, I mean WOW!" "Glad you liked it." "A kiss from anyone else, now, would have no meaning. Every kiss from now on will be compared to yours and all future kisses will always come up lacking." "Let's not let it ruin your life." Drake slowly ground his hips against me, swirling my cockhead around in his pool of spunk. "Ummm, that feels good," I said. "What can I do to get you off?" Drake asked. "What do you want to do?" "Let me up and I'll show you." As I sat up, he threw his arms around my neck and I had to pull him up with me. "Sorry," he smiled, "that took so much out of me, I can't move." "Well then, I guess I'll pull up my pants and go home," I said with a grin. Drake jumped up, fell to his knees between my legs and engulfed my cock like a pelican does a fish. I really expected to see a wattle balloon out from under his jaw from the suddenness of his move. Instead, I felt the most soothing, warm, moist mouth surround my cock-like a tropical underwater cavern. "Oh, Drake, oh man, oh jeez that feels good." The inside of his cheeks caressed my cock head, his tongue lapped at my shaft and his nose taunted my belly before I realized he had swallowed me completely. Only one woman had ever been able-or maybe willing-to do that, but Drake's successful attempt felt far better. 'Is it because this is so forbidden?' I thought, 'or because we're outside, so to speak, and we could get caught? No, it's because it's Drake and he's so special.' "My God! Where did you learn to do that?" I asked, pulling his bobbing head off my cock. "Coach," he said, going back down on me. I raised my legs up to grip his head between my thighs in an attempt to stop his incessant motions. It only helped him create an entirely different, short-stroke motion. This time, I couldn't stop the flow. I shot what felt like cannon ball-sized gobs of cum into his mouth. As my legs relaxed, he continued to hold it in his mouth until the last drop oozed out of my deflated cock. He crawled up and stretched out on his back along the bench seat, resting his head in my lap, facing me. "So your coach also teaches sex-ed class, huh?" "Well, let's just say he does, but he doesn't get paid for it." "Does he do this with a lot of the guys?" "I don't think so. He's married. He's got a son who's twenty-five or thirty, maybe." "So why you?" "I'm the best swimmer he's ever had. Don't get me wrong. I'm not bragging or anything, it's just a fact of his career. Anyway, he's been coaching me for four years and frequently comes over to coach me when I'm doing laps in our pool at home and to visit with my folks. Last year, I invited him to my birthday party. A pool party, of course." "Of course." "After everyone else left, the coach stuck around to talk to my folks like he always does. I was in the cabana showering. When he came in, he slipped off his trunks and started showering, too. That's nothing unusual, either. We showered together a lot, both at school and at my house after swim practice. Anyway, that's when he told me my parents agreed to let me go to the Summer Olympics Trials." "Trials?" "Tryouts. Everyone calls them tryouts but officially, they're `trials.'" "Oh." "Where was I? Oh yeah, when I heard the news, I started jumping up and down and I got so excited, I threw a boner." "Not unusual for an eighteen-year-old," I said, noticing Drake's cock was beginning to go on the rise again. "Yeah! Tell me. So anyway, I saw he was boning up, too. Something he never did before. Of course, I don't ever remember being hard in front of him before either-at least not naked. So I said to him, `How can I ever repay you? This is an opportunity of a lifetime!' and the coach said, `Just do your best. I can't ask for anything more than that.'" "He's right, you know. So you gave him a blowjob right there in the cabana?" I asked as I watched Drake's left hand absentmindedly stroke his hardening cock lightly. "No, he got embarrassed and left. It was a couple of weeks later, when we were alone in his office, after my workout. I asked him if I could confide in him. Naturally he said yes, so I told him about me being gay. Of course, I didn't come right out and say that. I asked him something like, `Would the Olympic Committee eliminate someone if they found out he was gay?'" "So the coach picked it up from there?" I asked. Drake obliviously stroked his cock. It was almost a natural movement. I don't think he even knew he was playing with himself as he talked. But to me it was more stimulating than watching a porno movie. "Yeah. He said he'd always thought I was, but that it didn't matter to him. Well, one thing led to another and I ended up sucking his dick." I would have liked to hear more about `one thing and another' but all I could say was, "Wow." I said it serenely, trying to fathom how all that could have transpired so placidly. "And you like sucking dick?" I asked incredulously. "Yep. It's almost like it's second nature to me. I learned to suck dick as easily as I learned to swim." "Well, if the cock sucking I just got is any indication, then there's an Olympic gold medal in the freestyle with your name on it just waiting for you." "Thanks." After a few moments of silence, Drake said, "But there's really something else I've always wanted to try." "What's that?" Drake hesitated before he asked, "Would you fuck me?" "I thought I just did." "Not in the mouth. In the ass!" he said as he ground the back of his head against my hardening cock. "You know you want to. At least this wants to," he said, sliding his hand behind his head and gripping my cock. "I don't know, I've never..." "It's got to be just like fucking a woman-only tighter. At least that's what I've read. Please?" "Drake, I uh...." "Good," he said, rolling off the bench. He pulled several flotation seat cushions off and laid them on the deck in between the dining table pedestal and the steps leading to the upper deck. "That's too narrow. We'd fall off, anyway," he said, nodding to where I was sitting. "Come on, get down here," he said, raising his legs until his thighs rested on his chest. "Just watch your head. I don't want you to knock yourself out. Well, I do... but not to the point of unconsciousness." "Shouldn't we use a condom?" I asked. "Are you diseased?" "No, but you don't know that for sure. You can only take my word for it." My cock thumped with each heartbeat in anticipation of what I was about to do. I looked at Drake and his cock was throbbing, too. Pre-cum formed a pool in his belly button. "I trust you Richard. But if it will make you feel any better, I promise to always use a condom after this. I promise! But the first time, I want to feel the real thing, and I want it to be with someone I trust." "We don't even have any lube. I can't just stick it in. It'll hurt you too much." "Use spit," Drake said as his pinkish brown asshole winked at me invitingly. "I've heard that works. Or this," he said as he dipped his middle finger into his navel to scoop up some of his pre-cum. "After all, that's what it's for." He swiped his fingertip over his pucker hole and went back for more. When his pool was empty, he squeezed a huge gob out of his cumtube and swirled it gently over the crown of my cock in a whirlpool motion. "Come on, do it before it dries out." I leaned forward, placing my cock head at his hole and laid on top of him. As he raised his head to kiss me, I pushed gently. He sucked air out of my mouth as my dickhead popped through his tight anal ring, but he didn't whimper. I felt him push out against my cock as if to expel me, but it only succeeded in sucking more of my cock into his hole. He broke the kiss and said, "That is the most awesome feeling I've ever had. Oh God, Richard, push it in-all the way. Fill me with that fucking bowsprit you call a cock." I started a fucking motion I used with my girlfriend and Drake sighed contentedly. "It doesn't hurt?" "Only when you stop," Drake said dreamily. "You could fuck me forever, it feels so good." "Then how would you win your gold medals?" "So now it's more than one?" "Can a seagull fly with only one wing?" "See, I've got you doing it." "What?" "Using nautical terms." "What can I say? You're infectious." "You know, I now know what the description for heaven is-at least for me." "What's that?" I asked as I continued a slow, gentle, steady rhythm not unlike that of waves washing up on a beach. "Swimming the freestyle in the Olympics with you fucking my ass at the same time." "And winning, don't forget." Drake slid his hand down between his ass and my cock and said, "This is how winning the Olympics is gonna feel. I just know it." "For your sake, I hope it's even better," I said just before I leaned down and kissed him lovingly. Soft but passionate kisses punctuated my thrusts into his ass. I knew the boat was tied tightly to the trailer but I got the distinct feeling Drake and I were riding the waves. Up to the crest, down into the valley, up the swell again to the white foam peak, only to pitch again into the trough between. My hips went up as my chest dipped down. My hips sank down as my chest rose up. If my concentration weren't lashed tightly to the asshole constricting my cock, I'd have gotten seasick. Drake must have had similar thoughts, because he said, "Ride me like a freighter in a squall, Richard. Ride out the storm and drop your cargo right into my hold. I'm watertight and weatherproof, so pound my ass like the surf pounds the seashore during a hurricane!" The feelings his gripping ass channel was creating on my cock were better than any I'd ever experienced with a woman. The chlorine smell of his skin and the suppleness of his cock rubbing against my belly on my down strokes reminded me I was fucking a man and my senses washed overboard. My cock shuddered and I filled his ass with cum. I jerked and jolted and twitched. I even did what he told me not to do. I cracked my head on the underside of the galley table. I slumped down on him unable to support my own weight, not from the impact but from the exertion. Drake pulled my head from the crook of his neck and shoulder to look into my eyes. "That was just too awesome, Richard. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you. But that was perfect. I'll always remember it this way." "Shut up and kiss me, you little sea monkey." "Drake!" I heard someone yell. "That's Dad," Drake said. "On the boat, Dad," he yelled. Then he said casually, "I guess we better get dressed." Drake slipped on his cargo shorts, grabbed his T-shirt and bounded up the three steps to the upper deck. I watched him pull the shirt over his head as he said, "I've been showing Richard around the Drake's Tale. "Who's Richard and what does he think of her?" As I climbed into my trousers and buttoned my shirt, I heard Drake say, "He's a kindly old gentleman who offered to keep me company while my Rents were out gambling away my future inheritance." He turned to me and smiled as he said `old.' I felt the boat dip to one side as Drake's father climbed aboard and said, "You'll be glad to know I've added to it, today." The man would make three of me and he was solid muscle. I could tell when he landed soundly, feet-first onto the deck, and nothing jiggled-like his belly or his thighs-nothing. As I made my way to the upper deck he asked, beaming with pride. "So what do you think of her?" "We just got started," Drake said, coming to my rescue. "You can probably tell him more about it than me, anyway." 'He even knows how to sweet-talk his old man', I thought. "Winston Mallard," he said, extending a chunky hand that would look right at home on a gigantic Pillsbury Dough Boy. "Richard Rustin," I said. "Nice to meet you." For the next fifteen minutes, Winston expounded on the virtues of what I considered to be his mini-yacht. Then we headed down to what he called his first mate's cabin. "I call her my first mate cuz I've never had another woman in my life and I call this her cabin cuz she does all the cooking. Of course, we christened the boat Drake's Tale because..." and Drake moved as if on cue alongside his father so Winston could throw an arm across his shoulders, "... Drake, here, always had this tale about how he was gonna be the best swimmer ever." "From what I saw this morning at the pool, I think he just might be right." Puffing his chest with pride, looking for all the world like the advertising cartoon character Charlie the Tuna, Winston said, "When we heard he was going to the Olympics, we bought this here beauty to celebrate." "The Olympic Trials, Dad. Not the Olympics." "First the tryouts. Then the Olympics," Winston said. "The Olympics aren't a guaranteed thing, Dad!" "So? Even if you don't," Winston said, pulling his son into a headlock, "we still got us a fine boat out of it." I saw where Drake got his award-winning smile as Winston looked at his son lovingly. As Winston led the way out of the cabin, he turned back and said, "What have I told you about jackin' off down here? Your mom knows what it smells like. So cut it out or she'll know you're beatin' your meat when you're supposed to be studying." Turning to me, Winston said, "Musta been a huge load, too, from the smell of it." Then, as he turned and left, he called back over his shoulder, "And we're too far from salt water to blame it on the ocean, this time." I blushed but Drake said, "That's Dad. He calls it like he sees it-or smells it," he said as we climbed off the boat. "Come on boy, your mom's gonna be wantin' dinner shortly. Care to join us, Richard?" "He's here with his Dad," Drake said. "Bring him along," Winston said. "I'll see what Dad has planned," I said, as the three of us traipsed across the parking lot. When the three of us got to the casino, Winston veered off as he said, "I'll find your mother and meet you at the Tortoise Shell Restaurant." Once he was out of earshot I said, "Drake Mallard?" "Don't even start," Drake warned. "I've heard 'em all." "I promise," I said, "but its no wonder you take to the water as well as you do." "Don't go there," Drake said threateningly. Changing the subject, he asked, "Want me to make some excuse for you and your dad?" "You can if you want. I mean, if you think I'd embarrass you. You know, like maybe your dad would figure out what we were doing." "Oh, he's already figured that out. When he asked you if you smelled it, I knew he knew you were involved. Don't get me wrong. He doesn't know what we did. He just knows we did it together." "Well, maybe you should make an excuse, then." "Dad's okay with it. Really. And he won't embarrass you. Not deliberately, anyway. He might make an offhand remark, but no one will ever know he's talking about you." "And you're cool with all this?" "Hell, yes. I love my dad-crass and all." "I'll ask Dad. I'll leave it up to him." Drake got dreamy-eyed again and said, "I'll miss you. Promise me you'll be at the pool in the morning if you can't make dinner tonight." "I promise." Drake pursed his lips quickly as if to blow an air kiss, turned and headed toward the Tortoise Shell. I woke Dad from his post-bingo nap, briefed him on meeting Drake-leaving out the physical part of our activity-and told him about the dinner offer. "I think it's a fine idea. Let's go." "Just remember, Dad, Winston is a little, uh, shall we say..." "Rough as a barnacle?" Dad asked. "I think I could use a little variety in my life." Dad's nautical reference startled me but after a moment to think, I decided to consider it as a good omen. Then I blushed when I thought about the variety I'd added to my life this afternoon. Dinner conversation went well. Mrs. Mallard, a tiny woman compared to Winston, was a gracious woman. Nevertheless, she could hold her own when it came to swearing like a sailor-although, hers was usually done in a whisper. 'It's obvious Drake got his stature and good looks from his mother's side of the family-except for that disarming smile of his father's', I thought. During dinner, it was decided the Mallards would keep my dad company in the casino after I offered to keep Drake company. "It's mighty nice of you to offer," Winston said. "It's not easy being left out just because of your age. I know it's hard on a lad to be strapped with his parents on a trip like this." Maybe it was my imagination but I could have sworn he emphasized the words `hard on.' More than likely, it was my own guilty feelings about what Drake and I did that was playing tricks on me. "My boy," Dad said, "has always been there for me. Don't ever recall him saying no, no matter what I'd ask. He's such a delight." "So is mine," Winston said. Then turning to me, he said, "Wouldn't you say my son's a delight, Richard?" "Absolutely," I said as I blushed. "You know," Winston said reflectively, "I get the impression you see the same qualities in Drake as the boy's swim coach." I didn't know if Winston knew about the coach or not but I blushed again. This time my ears even got warm. Drake looked at me, shrugging his shoulders and flashing an impish smile. Winston insisted on picking up the check, so Dad offered to pay the tip. "No way," Winston said. Looking at the total he said, "The tip comes to more than the two of you would have spent for dinner. I told you it's my treat." There was a kindly but firm finality in his tone. As we left the restaurant, Winston reached in his pocket, pulled out the keys to the motor home and said, `If you smoke cigars, turn on the Sea Breeze." Drake and I went the other way as the three of them headed toward the casino. "Sea Breeze?" I asked. "It's a machine Mom had installed that intermittently sprays a scent in the room." "For when your dad smokes his cigars?" "Dad doesn't smoke." "Then why the reference to cigars? And don't tell me your mother smokes cigars." Drake gave me a `DUH' look, formed his right hand into a cylinder and moved it back and forth toward his oval mouth. "You mean?" I asked astonished. "He may be as rough as a wooden piling but he's as smart as the sting of a sea nettle. He wasn't born rich, you know!" "A sea nettle?" "Uh, like a jelly fish but its sting is a lot sharper." "Oh, I love a day when I learn something new. It makes the whole day worth living." As Drake unlocked the door to the motor home, he asked, "You wanna spank your sea monkey's monkey?" "Actually, I was thinking of something a little more daring." "Like what?" "You'll find out." "Oooh, I like it when you get mysterious." "I just have to ask you one thing." "What's that?" "Umm, you haven't been with anyone who... ummm, I don't know how to say this..." "Am I clean? Yeah. Like I say, there's just been three guys, and..." "What about the third one?" "That was two years ago at Camp Wichinaugua." "The one in Michigan?" "Yeah. We only did it for two weeks-actually, less than that. It took a little time to, well you know... warm him up to the idea." "My son Ricky went there four years in a row." "A lot of kids do. It's a terrific getaway for kids, but to answer your question, yeah I'm safe. What you got in that devious little mind for me tonight?" "Oh, yeah, uh... usually I'm not this easily distracted." I lifted Drake's shirt over his head and after unbuttoning the top button, tugged gently on his shorts until they fell to the floor. He started to reach for my shirt but I stopped him. "No, let me do this. If I don't do it right now, I might chicken out." I knelt in front of Drake and slurped his flaccid cock into my mouth. Except for its thickness, it could have been a well-cooked strand of spaghetti. But true to form, as all eighteen-year-olds are able to do, he boned up quickly. I actually enjoyed feeling the soft, tumescent flesh firm up as my tongue explored the textures of his cock flesh. I was amazed at how the core got rigid while the outside stayed pliable. Even more exciting to me was how it fit easily in my mouth when it was soft but how I eventually began to gag as it got hard and started to lengthen. "Easy, Grasshopper," Drake said perfectly in the dialect Pat Morita used in The Karate Kid movie. I chuckled at his quip causing me to accidentally swallow too much and it made me gag again. "That sound gets me so hot!" Drake said. "It makes me think I've got the biggest cock in the world." Pulling off for a moment I said, "Well, it's not tiny by any means." When I sucked his cock back in my mouth I deliberately gagged myself just to feed his fantasy. While I was going down on him, I thought, 'When I first thought about sucking him, I wasn't sure I could do it. Now that I'm doing it, I'm not sure I can stop. I'm as addicted to Drake's cock as Dad is to gambling. But it's not just his cock. It's Drake-all of Drake. If I'm truly honest with myself, I fell in love with him when I saw him sitting outside the casino entrance.' Drake gently grasped my head and said, "Richard, back off or I'm gonna blow my wad." I grabbed his hips to keep him from moving away. "Richard, I'm not kidding. It's gonna be just like a whale's blowhole when I start. I'm... I'm...oh fuck!" The most delicious salty syrup flooded my mouth. I swallowed it immediately, before I could succumb to any second thoughts. Once the first load slid past my taste buds and down my throat, I couldn't get enough. "Easy, Ritchie, you're gonna suck my insides out." 'Okay', I thought, 'I'll let you call me Ritchie, but only because it's you.' "Oh, man. Stop! I'm too, oh! Too ungh!" I let his cock slip from my mouth. He dropped to his knees and kissed me. "That was even better than the first time." I looked at him quizzically. "At camp. It was the first time a guy ever sucked me off. It was great, but this was even better. It's like, this time there was more to it." "I thought so, too," I said. 'Love maybe?' I thought. "So do you keep in touch with him?" "Who?" "The fella from camp." "He said he didn't have an e-mail server and I told him about some free ones he could get. I gave him my e-mail address and I watched him put it in his backpack. He said he'd e-mail me as soon as he got home. Anyway, he never e-mailed me." "You're too nice a guy for someone to just blow you off like that." "I didn't know what to expect. I mean, I was the one who talked him into doing it, you know, it. Maybe he felt guilty about what we did and decided he was straight. Maybe he thought of me as a one-night stand." Drake eyes filled with tears as he said, "You're not going to promise to write and then ignore me, are you?" "Hell, no! In fact, I'll give you my name, address, e-mail, cell phone number, pager and...and... and my word of honor." I pulled Drake to me to comfort him. I slipped back on my haunches, resting my butt on my heels and let him slip into a comfortable embrace. "I couldn't do that to you. I was thinking, though... maybe something happened to his backpack. I remember Ricky's got stolen a couple of years ago. He left it on the tailgate of the truck when we went in to get some pop. When we got back, it was gone." "Really?" As I gently rubbed Drake's right biceps to help comfort him, I said, "Why anyone would want to steal an eight-year-old Free Willy backpack that had seen better days, I'll never know, but they did." Drake turned his head suddenly to look up at me. "Free Willy!" "Yeah." "That's too freaky! Brainyard had a Free Willy backpack. Brainyard was the guy at Camp Wichinaugua. We all agreed to only use made-up camp names while we were there. What can I say?" Drake said, grimacing like he was a little embarrassed by the sophomoric behavior. But it was my turn to stare at Drake in disbelief. "What's the matter?" he asked, concern in his voice. "You're as white as the underbelly of a flounder." "What a small world," I said. "Ricky named his computer Brainyard. I thought it was rather original but I guess not." "Have you got a picture of Ricky?" "Yeah. I think so. It's a couple of years old though." I pulled my wallet out of my hip pocket and flipped through it until I found his junior year picture. "Here," I said, handing Drake my wallet. That smile I first fell in love with returned to Drake's face. "This is Brainyard! This is the Son of a Bitch who didn't e-mail me!" Drake said with a smile. "You're kidding!" "No way. This is him!" Drake jumped up and got his cell phone. "Call him, will you? I want to talk to him. Okay?" "I'm not sure we should, uh..." "I'm not gonna tell him about us! Well, not about what we've been doing." I punched in the numbers and when it started ringing, I handed it back to Drake. "Hello, Brainyard? Got any idea who this is?" After a pause he said, "Drake. Drake Mallard." Again, a pause before he said, "Yeah, Squid from Camp Wichinaugua. You'll never guess who I'm sitting with right now. I'll let you talk to him." "Hello, son? Yeah it's me." I listened to what Ricky had to say and said, "I'll see what I can do. Love you, too. Good night." "What'd he say?" Drake asked excitedly. "He wants to know if you can come to visit." "Oh, man! That would be awesome!" "Are you sure? I mean, I don't think Ricky's still into . well, he has a girlfriend. "That doesn't make him all bad. In fact, he's an all around nice guy." Then Drake got a look of horror on his face. "Oh, my god! I just outed your son . to his own father!" With a wicked smile designed to ease his tension, I said, "But if he is, between Ricky and me, it might involve an awful lot of non-stop sex for you-and I'm not sure I'm ready to share you with anyone. Especially, a young horndog like my son." "But you know I have a soft spot for older men. In fact, that spot is just itching for you to fuck it. What do you say? Wanna head back to my bedroom and scratch it?" "Don't forget to turn on the Sea Breeze," I said as I followed Drake down the hall to the back bedroom like one wave follows another on the shore. Send comments to jockhunger@yahoo.com Other stories by me are "Rascal" in the gay/incest section, "Sharin'" and "Halloween 16" in the bisexual/incest section.