ONE HUMAN FAMILY
By
John Van Laningham
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SIX
Friday. My last full day. I slept beautifly, snuggled up to my baby, a hard bodied man.
Stretching before our jog, Anders asks if we should do 10k today to make up for being lazy yesterday.
"Sure" I say, not telling him I went and worked out anyway. As secrets go, it's very minor.
We go down White St, pausing at Truman, barely warmed up, to wait for the light. Then down White all the way to the end at Higgs Beach. We jog onto the pier, past the AIDS memorial, saying a silent prayer to the universe for the injustice of it all. Out on the furtherest part is a large compass painted onto the concrete. We jog back and past the old brick fort , exactly like the one at the airport. Then through all the beach stuff and turn and go past the fancy Waldorf resort. We are winding our way through a residential neighborhood but I figure Anders knows the way. Plus, it is hard to get actually very lost in Key West. We turn left and after a while I recognize that we are on South St headed to the famous bouy. When we get there, almost nobody is there and I make Anders take a photo of me standing next to it as a keepsake. Then I take a picture of him for the same resson. Then we turn down Whitehead and go as far as Mallory Square before heading back.
I'm tired when we get back but feeling good. Some hydration and we shower together again, this time in private. It's as much kissing and touching as showering but we get it done. He suggests that we go out for breakfast and I agree but that means clothes. He laughs at me as I decide what to wear as the vast majority of what I brought is still clean. I settle on a pair of khaki's and a tie-dye. Anders has a pair of shorts and a solid T and looks spectacular in it, too.
We go to a place he likes called Harpoon Harry's, right across from the marina. It's an old fasioned diner - cash only -and it has the perfect breakfast, plain and simple and hearty. The coffee is hot. It's great but the place is so straight. It's as if I've been in this gay coccoon sine Monday and I've lost track of the straight world that I have hidden in my whole life. And I am not sure I really like it. I mean, having to edit, having to stay silent, having to deflect, having to pass things off. To fit in. To not attract attention. Suddenly, I am less willing to do that. We pay and leave and it's a good meal at a reasonable price. Maybe one day it might be a favorite of mine - and it should be. This kind of place is more who I am than fancy places. But I am going to have to grow and become truly more comfortable with myself.
We stroll, walking hand in hand. Doing some window shopping. The thing that I like that is that I can spend time with him and enjoy myself. I feel comfortable with him. I enjoy his company. We don't have to be banging like teenageres (although banging like teenagers is great) to enjoy ourselfves. I insist on going in a trinket store on Duval. Looking areoud, I find a T shirt that reads "I can't even think straight". The guy gives me a 10% discount for being in the tribe. We go down Duval and window shop. We go into a gallery on Duval and Jacob is working the floor. We smile.
"Listen, I am looking for a Christmas present. You wouldn't happen to know when Christmas is, do you?" I ask in mock seriousness
"I think it might have been yesterday, sir."
"Oh, well, good. Now everything will be marked down to rock bottom clearance prices"
Jacob smiled. "Absolutely, sir. Rock bottom pricing"
He showed us some a picture that I think is really cool. The artist painted it but then the computer graphics took over down to a single pixel. The result is a picture that changes according to the light level. It's a sail boat and a dingy in the foreground and an island in the background. That's in normal light. In lower light, the island becomes the focal point of the picture. It is amazing. But I have no way to vary the light and it's more expensive than I can afford.
Lunch is at Santiago Bottega's, a tapas place in the part of town called the Bahama Village. We are very nearly alone and the staff is attentive but letting us enjoy our meal. We share small plates and drink wine.
"About last night" Anders starts off. I can sense his hesitancy. "You weren't freaked out about it, were you?"
"No. SHould I have been?"
"I don't think so but ..."
I shrug. "They are young but they are adults. Everybody knew what the deal was and everybody gave their consent. I think if we ultimatey get together for real, I'd be upset if you had sex with another guy and hid it from me. But enjoying sex together eith other people wouldn't bother me. Im fact. I thought it was pretty fun. We both knew the score. It was just happens when you have naked men with naked men"
Anders laughed. "Gymnos gymno. That's my Ph. D. Dissertation. The Secret Gospel of Mark"
I look at him quizically. "Which is?"
He laughs again. "I foreet that just because something is very controversial in my world doesn't mean that normal people have ever heard of it. So, it's a good story. In 1958. a Columbia professor named Morton Smith was working in the Mar Saba monastery in the Kidron Valley when he finds this handwritten text in the back three pages of a book published in 1646. It's a letter from Clement of Alexandria about a longer version of the Gospel of Mark. And it tells the story of Jesus raising a rich young man from the dead and going and spending time at his home. On the 6th night Jesus commands the youg man to come to him in the night. The young man does, dressed only in a linen coth to cover his naked body. And Jesus spends the night revealing the kingdom of God to him."
"Wow" I say. "Sort of like Lazarus except gayer?"
"Well right. But there's a lot of cotroversy whether it is genuine or not. Specifically, whether it is a modern forgery or not. There are people who think it is absolutely a 2nd or early 3rd century text and there are people who are convinced that Smith himself forged it for reasons of his own"
"Just test the ink" I say
Anders smiles. "That's a problem. At some point after the early 80's, the letter got lost. Nobody knows where it's at"
"Wow. I guess people were okay with a gay Jesus, right?"
"Oh no. Absolutely not."
I shrug. "I can imagine. So, what did you say it was?"
"I said it was 5th century pseudepigrapha. It was written in support of a process in the early church, which actually existed into early modern times, of adelphopoiseis or spirtual brotherhood. These were ostensibly nonsexual but still an intimate same sex pairings"
"Well, a gay Jesus would have been welcome earlier in my life" I say
"It's funny. Conservative Christians revolt at the idea of Jesus having a sexuality. But that means he is asexual. Ok, it's LGBTQIA, right? By making Jesus asexual, they are making him a gender or sexual minority. They are placing Jesus in the Pride parade, not outside street preaching"
"It's like those commercials 'He gets us'. Naybe he REALLY gets us, huh?"
It's an aftenoon of leisurely lovemaking. The last full day here and I am all ready feeling bitterweet about it. I am aware that I have only so many more chances to touch him, to suck him, to feel him inside of me. There is the promise of more in a week and a piece but can we keep the feelings of the magic gay Disneyland in cold Boston? I hope so. I desperately hope so. But either way, my life of celibacy is done. The excitement of sex is too great. It is too much fun. The joy of romance is too intoxicating and the need for intimacy is too real to give it up. I've wasted too much of my life as it is.
I am laying back and he has my steel rod in his hand and then in his mouth. The room is small but it doesn't matter. It is big enough for two if the two are trying to be one. The plantation blinds are down, the lighting low, the TV on, playing porn. Another Helix video. Gorgeous boys doing erotic things. And the wet warmth of his mouth on my swollen dick is tremendous. The tongue worshipping it. Stroking it. Slow and gentle. No hurry. No need. His dick then pressed against mine. He strokes me and it feels so fine. So perfect. Down again, down the rod, slowly up and off, his spit as lube, his tongue working the swollen bright red of my cock head. He tugs at my sensitive nuts.
We kiss and I feel his hardness.
We roll over each other, both men. Both strong. Another kiss and another touch. I stroke him and play with his foreskin. He strokes me.
It is bliss. It is heaven.
I ride him, his dick in my ass, sitting on his lap, facing him. He strokes me as I slowly move up and down, sideways and all around, applying the all important friction to his throbbing manhood piece. He strokes me and it is so incredibly pleasurable. Beyond amazing. It doubles, trebles the pleasure of getting fucked. I can see the hunger and lust in his eyes as he fucks me. I can see his face as he is pleasured. The look when he orgasms.
Everything about the love and lust between men is right. It is not wrong. You know what they are afraid of? The anti-gay bigots? That our sex lives are more satisfying than theirs. Th at man on man sex is better. That's what.
Dinner is at Blue Heaven. And it is delicious.
Rather than go back to Island House, we go into Bourbon Street Bar, the big gay bar on Duval and Petronia. The go go boys aren't up dancing on the bar tops yet. We go to the garden bar in the back and have a drink. We go up the top sundeck and see what we can see of the city and the stars. Across the street to Aqua to listen to karoake. I have a little more than I should and I am loose and happy. At 10, we go back and watch the boys dance in their underwear.
"I wonder if they are going to have the Midnight Cock Shock" Anders says over the persistent beat of the music
"You can ask the bartender" I offer
"No, at Saloon One"
We go over in the slight chill of the night, across the painted rainbow side walks, and there is a bouncer outside. Since we paid the cover at Bourbon, we are let in. It's a small bar, almost a dive bar but it's gay. There are a couple of monitors playing leather porn. We get a place at the bar and wait. The guy that's the Emcee, who is an older guy with his hair dyed black, comes up in leather pants and insists that we cop a feel on his steel hard dick.
As it get closer to 12, more and more guys drift in. It's a big enough crowd that I wonder what the fire marshal would say. Across from the bar, there is a small stage. And that is where the show is. It's a competition. Guys from the audience come up and compete. Best facial hair, best bieceps. I wonder how risque it is going to get. Best chest and Anders tells me to go get on the stage.
"Oh, hell no. I'm too shy for that" I say
"You'd win"
"Noooo" I say. But, seeing the guys that do enter, I wonder.
Then they do Best Younger Guy. And "younger guy" is defined as under 49. Since Anders is a couple of years younger than me, I start ragging on him to go hop on stage. I was only joking but he took it up. There were 4 other guys and I thought he was the sexiest one of all. He is playing it up too, Pulling up his shirt to show off his muscles. Pulling his pants down to show off his butt. There is a kid in his 20's and he won but Anders should have.
And then, needless to say, came Best Older Guy. I tried playing a loophole. Younger is under 40 and older is over 40 but there is no categry for exactly 40 Anders wasn't having it. And I am stuck. He went. I had to as well. So, embarassed, I do. And like Anders, I play it up. If you are going to be ridiculous, be real ridiculous. There are 3 other competitors and when I pull up my shirt there are plenty of catcalla and whistles. I am blushing red with embarassment but, I have to admit, it feels nice.
And then the vote came and I won. I won!
The prize is a gift bag but the prize is the affirmation, not the discount coupons.
Then they do Best Butt and Best Balls.
Then Best Dick.
"Come on" Anders aays, pulling me toward the stage. I tug backwards, back toward the bar. "Come on, you've been running around naked all week and it'll be fun"
Well, this is what I would have feared a week ago. Now, I am whipping it out for a crowd of men to see. Not just see. Vote on. This is either the greatest competition I've ever entered - greater than the Pinewood Derby in Cub Scouts - or the most humiliting.
THere are four of us and we drop trou. One guy has us beat flaccid. He is a skinny guy with a baby's arm of a dick hanging down. The emcee makes a few crude remarks and gropes me, cupping my halls. I feel reasonanly excited.
"Oh and we have a convertible one too!" he says, giving Anders a little grope.
After the other two, he announces we can have a fluffer of our choice. I immediately volunteer to fluff Anders and neither of the other two guys say, much to dismay of the crowd. As soon as they close off the curtain for us to get ourselve pumped up, the other two guys quietly exit the stage. I sink to my knees and I swallow Anders down to the root. I know how to suck him off, even though we only have 5 minutes. But the suction of my mouth, my tongue and the situation helps take a semi hard dick to full thickness. I suck and I lick and I squeeze his balls. And sure enough, my sucking the cock I love is enough to make me hard too.
Then emcee whispers "10 seconds"
Anders says "Stay there"
And when the curtain opens I still have his dick in my mouth. The crowd erupts in cheers and crude comments and cat calls. But they love it. I jump up and the judging begins. Now it is a question of best dick between me and my lover. I do the model turn around, see my ass and see my dick from all angles. I give it a good tug. Anders does the same.
And ...
I won best dick.
The gift bag is nothing much but it's fun and the guy behind the bar takes me out back onto the patio to take a pic of my hard dick for his collection. It's sort of part of the crown, sort of like how Miss America gets photographed all the time.
And then it's back to lovemaking in the early morning hours.
We sleep in a bit and now I am facing some time pressure. I dpn't have time for my usual work out, which sucks. Me and Anders shower together one last time. The feel of his body is exciting, erotic. I could so get used to this. We go downstairs and get breakfast. Then I go back and pack. Leave a tip for the housekeeper boy. Most of my clothes are clean. I'll do better next time and there wil be a next time. What I need is in the carry on including the Columbia jacket so I can walk to my car in the low 40's and possible rain at home. I have to check out by 11:00 but my flight isn't until 14:30. I check out (my bar/food tab was $400) and they give me a key for a locker so I can undress again and hangout for a little while until I have to go to the airport.
Anders and I trade phone numbers and email addresses. He gives me his address. I look up the flight information I have coming into Boston on 3 January, the Saturday before I am supposed to go to work at Mass General. I have an hour, maybe an hour and half to be naked in the pool on a day that is finally back to being warm. We have to wait a bit for the cute pool guy to get through with the chemicals and the other things you do to a pool in its daily care. Anders has his hands all over me the whole time.
My last chance to be naked.
We are in the water together, all up into each other. I am standing on the side of the pool just beyond where the steps are and Anders is in front of me. I am groping him and he is as hard as I am. We are the only ones in the pool on this brillant blue sky morning, a perfect day in paradise. I want to feel his body one more time. Just the one more time, I long for his dick. I long to feel him in me. God, what I wouldn't give to be fucked one more time.
"Funny thing is that I was really, seriously worried about being naked in public. I was worried that I was going to get an erection" I say
He laughs. "That boner won you Best Dick at the Cock Shock"
"Yeah but you got the boner I want"
He turns half way around and tells me to hike myself on the side of the pool. I wonder why, especially since I do, in fact, have the boner I was once frightened of. But I hike myself on the side of the pool with my manhood sticking up Involuntarily, I tried to cover up but Anders, still standing in the pool with the water at his waist, takes my hands away and pulls my legs apart, liberating my balls. He takes my dick and angles it down and swallows it whole. Shocked, I look around the pool area but nobody is paying us any attention except one guy opposite and he is tugging at his crotch too.
"Mmmmm" I purr. "That feels good."
And the truth is that it did feel great. Wet and warm and friction on a swollen piece of meat that loves friction, his tongue was making me feel good. He took me down whole, no gagging and ecpertly worked my cock. And the whole thing was erotic. Shamelessly getting it on, broad daylight, in full view of whoever. It's a turn on. I lean back and savor it. I think back to Monday and the two guys in the jacuzzi.
He sucks on my balls. He is unashamed to be doing this and I love that. I love that Anders just embraces his queer sexuality. He goes after my stiff swollen prics and loves on it with his tongue and mouth. I pinch my nipples to heighten the delight. God, this feels good. I love it. I love it.
"I want to fuck you before you go" he says
"I want you to"
"in my room or ..."
"Red Room" I say.
He grins. He had the same wicked idea.
Yeah, I've got a hard on as I towel off. Deal with it. I'm at a clothing optional, male only gay resort with a solid hunk of man about to plow my ass and I am hot for it. I want it. And I am hard. Gay men like erections, right?
We go down the breezeway and we split at the stairs. He has to go to his room and fetch some lube. I go up the back stairs and around to the Red Room. I boldly pull the door open. Down the hall and into the inner sanctum. The lights are up, brighter than normal. There are some towels spread around a bit but there is no one in there The porn is playing. I sit down and think back to the fun I had here. Back to finding myself as a gay man in here. I stroke my hardness looking at fit, big dicked men in paid pleasuring.
Anders comes in. He looks around and smiles.
"Kind of seedy, huh?" he says
"Perfect" I reply.
I kiss him but it isn't tender. It is hungry. It is needy. Urgent. Demanding. I feel his hard body. I want him to own me. To plow me. I want it.
I bend over and rest on the fuck bench. "Fuck me like a dog" I say
I feel his hard rod between my buttcheeks. At my asshole.
And then...
Fuck
Fuck!
FUCK!
"Oh yeah: I call out, loud. "That's it, fuck me"
Goddamn, I fucking want it. I want it hard. I want it fast. I want it savage. I want it. I WANT IT!
"Fuck me like a man" I snnarl
"Goddamn, you are fucking tight"
He fucking pounds me. We don't have time for tender. For lingering love. For slow motion pleasure. We are milking the last full measure of the orgasms possible at Gay Disneyland. He is fevered like I am fevered. He gives it to me the way I want it.
He grunts with each savage stroke.
I moan
I can't speak. I can't say
It feels too good. Too great. It is beyond amazing, It is life itself. It is death itself
Just keep fucking me.
"OH GOD!" I cry out.
I can't control it and neither can he. It is too late. It feels too good. It is pure pleasure, undiltuted and raw. It is primal and primordial. I am an animal, have the blunt needs of a dog in heat. I love him in me. I want it, hard and fast and furious God, he is good. He knows how I need it, want it, must have it. He keeps fucking me furiosuly, savagely.
"Uhm uhhh, uhhh" I grunt
"Fuuuuck!" he cries out.
I give a final painful grunt, a sound of expiration, of little death. It is too much, too overhwelming. I grunt again and my dick fairly well explodes, draining my nuts and prostate of what was surely the last load I have to spare. But I won't have long to linger. Anders pushes it in and blasts insides.
Alone still in the Red Room, we kiss.
"I do have to go" I say. "Quick shower, Get dressed and call a cab. Back to reality"
We kiss and hug. My naked body against his.
I head down stairs and grab a towel. In the dorm shower, there is another guy showering and we pass pleasantries as I wash off. Then I get my stuff out of the locker and dress and I am ready. I go out to the lobby to give back the lock and ask Paul to call a cab for me. I do that but Anders, in a pair of jogging shorts and shirtless, is waiting for me on the couch. We hold hands and talk about how great has been as we wait for the cab.
Then, a woman comes in and its my ride. I stand up and Anders and I hug one last time in Key West
"I'll see you in Boston" he says
I smile. "I can't wait"
As we go to the cab, the lady cabbie asks if that was a bittersweet parting and I say that it was.
"You two would make a great couple" she says,
"Thanks" I say "I think we would too"
We navigate the road work and pull in to terminal. I give her $20 and go inside to get my boarding passes. TSA is the usual pain but then I am headed down the escalator to the overfull to the brim and overflowing waiting area. It is a crush of people and the airport operates on the airline version of Key West efficiency. But eventually we are called through the door and across the tarmac to get on the plane.
The plane takes off to the east and makes a sharp bank almost immediately after takeoff, avoiding the restricted airspace of the Naval Air Station. One last loook at the bright blue water of the keys. Then a long haul to Atlanta. In Atlanta, we land and deplane on concourse B and my next flight is Concourse D. I have time, so I go down the escalator to where the Plane Train is but walk it to Concourse D instead. Up another escalator and I pick up a meal at Buffalo Wild Wings. The wait at the gate is boring but eventually we board the smaller CRJ jet and take off in the night.
Soon I land in Savannah, I fish out my phone and I text Anders telling him I all ready miss him
"1 week and I'll pick you up at Logan"
"I'll be horny" i text back
He texts back a winking emoji and an eggplant.
As I wait for my checked baggage of clean clothes, I text my mother to tell her I am back home safely.
"Good. Did you have a good time?"
I take a deep breath before I answer.
"I had a great time" I text back
A pause.
"I fell in love"
There is a long pause and I am waiting, Nothing is happening on the bag front so I am standing in a crowd with my phone in my hand like an idiot waiting for a text, hoping for the better of the two reactions. I am disappointed by the silence but not shocked. My text violated the unwritten, unspoken rule that we just don't talk about it. It takes long enough that I put my phone in my pants pocket. Then it dings and buzzes a bit.
"I'm glad, John, You deserve all the love you can find"
Another pause
"When You can, call me and tell me all about him"
I smile to myself. It is cold outside and wet but I am free I am happy. One more week and I see my love.
NOTE: Since the characters are all (at least loosely) based on real people, if you have been a guest at Island House or staff there and you think you see yourself in the story, you might be right. I hope you find yourself presented in the best possible light.