The South Side Tour Guide

by Shelter Somerset

  “Good morning,” he said with a grainy voice.

  “Good morning,” Andy muttered.

  Harden rubbed his eyes, and they stared at each other. Andy realized he’d never seen Harden in bed for the first glimpse of his bright blue eyes fluttering open. The same confusion and fear that had bothered him after their second bout of lovemaking in the bathroom returned. The rising sun failed to lessen the anxiety, but exacerbated it.

  “You’re not upset with everything, are you?” Harden asked.

  Funny, Andy had imagined asking Harden that question. “Maybe more stunned,” he said. “Are you?”

  Harden glanced away. “Kind of crazy. We drank a lot of wine. Maybe that was it.”

  Harden made to untangled himself from the sheet and stand. Andy grabbed his arm. “Don’t go.” He loosened his grip and smiled. Regardless of his misgivings, Andy did not wish for Harden to leave him cold and alone in bed. Not yet. “The kids aren’t here.”

  “They aren’t, are they?” Harden snickered and hunkered back under the sheet. “I was thinking I had to make them breakfast.” He leaned on his right elbow and gazed at Andy. Without warning, he placed his free hand behind Andy’s head and brought their lips together. He broke off and looked at him. “Okay that I kissed you?”

  Andy nodded.

  He inhaled more of Harden’s sour morning breath, and Harden began to explore Andy’s dimpled chin with his lips and tongue, causing Andy to chuckle and fidget. The jerky light movements brought Andy on top of him.

  They had slept naked, and they were aroused and ready. Harden traced his hands along the entire length of Andy’s back, stopping to squeeze Andy’s tensing butt muscles. Andy reciprocated by reaching between them and clutching Harden. For a moment, he’d forgotten his doubts—and Harden’s girth. Anointed with Harden’s precome, they embraced and kissed for what seemed endless minutes.

  Harden kicked the sheets to the floor and, grasping Andy’s hands, pinned him onto his back with their woven fingers near Andy’s ears. The sun rose higher, and slivers of light through the elms marked their bodies in a lattice pattern.

  Harden peered down at Andy with his blue eyes. “Those times watching you run through the sprinkler and then later at the pool, I couldn’t help but notice your ass. I didn’t want to admit it then.”

  Andy snickered nervously. “You were checking me out, huh?”

  “More like a barely conscious observation. Like after you got your hair cut. Really brings out the dimple in your chin. I wanted to touch it.” And he kissed it with soft lips.

  Andy’s body tingled with desire. His thickening and lengthening arousal stifled shrewdness. He spread his legs apart, an act that goaded Harden to grind against him.

  “Do you have any lubricant and condoms down here?” Harden asked.

  Andy hoped that Harden wouldn’t think of him as promiscuous once he told him he always kept a supply in his travel bag. “I might have some lube in my toiletry case for when I jerk off,” he said as Harden leaped to his feet and dashed for the bathroom. “I might have some condoms too, but I don’t know how old they are.”

  Seconds later, Harden returned, holding Andy’s near-empty, gnarly tube of ID Glide and a package of condoms. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, gazing at Andy from the foot of the bed.

  “Are you?”

  Harden slipped on the condom, which looked painfully tight on him, lubricated himself, tossed the tube aside, and gave his stiffness a few quick squeezes. Next, he mounted Andy and looked down into his eyes. “I’m okay, and ready.”

  “I’m all yours, then.”

  “Can we do it this way?”

  “You mean missionary? Just watch.”

  Andy positioned a pillow under his lower back. His torso rose, and Harden watched as if he were witnessing a modern marvel. Using his strong thighs, he spread Andy’s legs farther apart. Gently, he began to insert his glistening sex into Andy, and Andy helped aim it in.

  There was a spasm of pain as Harden crossed the sphincter, but soon the fleeting cramp gave way to complete and total rapture. Once inside, Harden no longer needed instructions from Andy.

  Propped by his locked arms, Harden threw his head back and pushed into Andy hard, grinding and wiggling his hips from side to side. Typical straight move, Andy surmised, thinking back to his dalliances with other heterosexual or bisexual men and the way they’d simulate movements they used when making love to a woman. But a man did not need such outer stimulation. Nonetheless, Andy, enraptured by Harden’s masculinity, tightened his legs around Harden so that he could feel more of him.

  “Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Harden said.

  “You’re doing great,” Andy said as pleasurable ripples shot through him. “Don’t stop. Give me all you got.”

  Those coaxing words drove Harden. He slammed Andy hard and rotated his hips faster and fuller. His subtle facial lines and muscles contorted into something surreal to Andy.

  “Feels so good to be inside you,” Harden groaned. “Feels so good.”

  Andy enveloped Harden with his arms and reached for his butt. The firmness of his glutes as he flexed sent Andy squirming. He wriggled and writhed under Harden’s manly weight. Power and truth were revealed behind those thrusts, and Andy was not sure how long he could go without screaming loud enough for the angels in Heaven to cover their ears with their wings.

  He spread his legs as wide as he could, his toes curled. Harden responded by lifting him off the pillow and thrusting deeper and unyieldingly. Gasping in the throes of passion, Harden simply stated, “I want to give it to you.”

  Harden began pounding into Andy as the man Andy always knew Harden to be. He was not heavy like Ken, who often crushed Andy, causing him to fear he might suffocate. Harden covered him like a comforting shroud, soft yet firm and purposeful.

  He maneuvered Andy onto his left side, sandwiching Andy’s leg with his own, and then onto his stomach. Andy clutched the fitted sheet and allowed his grunts and groans to match the ferocity of Harden’s pumping.

  Harden rolled him faceup again, and seemed to prefer the missionary position more than any other. Andy grabbed hold of Harden, cherishing the feel of his contracting muscles as the commanding thrusts continued unabated.

  “I’m going to give you what you want,” Harden said, gnawing on his cleft chin. “I’m going to give it to you good.”

  Andy’s throbbing heart seemed ready to explode. He received Harden’s mouth as if to ensure Harden exhaled life into him. Their lips fused and, with the brightening sun soaking the room and wringing extra sweat from their bodies, they orgasmed together.

  “Christ!”

  Harden’s body shook and, languishing like a leaf before falling from a branch, he buckled and collapsed on top of Andy. Something like weeping broke from him. But when he lifted his face from Andy’s perspiring chest, Andy realized he had been snickering.

  “I get why the French call sex le petit mort,” Harden said.

  Andy smiled. He too understood the utter fatigue from lovemaking, as if he had suffered a tiny death each time.

  Harden laid his forehead on Andy’s shoulder. Other than breathing heavily, they lay still. Andy continued to clench down to prevent Harden from slipping out. Their sweat and Andy’s semen helped to adhere them.

  Finally, Harden slipped out of Andy, and he budged to sit upright. “I need another shower,” he said. “Do you mind if I hop in yours? Kamila’s keeping you stocked with clean towels under the sink?”

  “Go ahead,” Andy said, not bothering to question Harden’s practice of showering immediately after sex, like Ken. “Let me know when you’ve finished. I could use another one myself.”

  Harden stood planted by the side of the bed. He stripped off the spent condom, which had hung from his thick, flaccid penis like a leaf heavy with dew, and clenched it in his fist. His casual movement for some reason charmed Andy.

  “Why don’t you join me?” Harden said. “We can save s
ome water.”

  “You sure?”

  “You don’t like showering with anyone?”

  Andy gazed into his blue eyes. “I do, a lot. But no one has ever asked me.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  Beneath the hot rush of water, they lathered each other’s hair and traced dollops of liquid soap along their slick bodies. Standing face to face under the bathroom’s fluorescent lights, Harden seemed to grow bashful. He smiled, flushed, fixed his gaze toward the suds gushing between their toes.

  Andy fought the nagging misgivings. Whatever they were doing, he didn’t want it to stop. At least not at that moment. Why worry about it now? He tweaked Harden’s chin to meet his eyes and kissed him with tender lips.

  Andy knelt before Harden and took him into his mouth. Thrusting unrelentingly, Harden clasped Andy’s head with both hands. His grunts rose above the rushing water from the showerhead. Andy wanted to swallow him, devour his entire body and soul.

  Harden pulled Andy to his feet. They kissed, a communion of tongues. Andy turned his back to Harden and pressed against him, tilting his neck so that their cheeks touched. Harden folded his arms around him, massaged his pectoral muscles, and nibbled the sides of his neck, landing on his chin.

  Andy arched his back, roving against Harden. Harden slapped his sex against Andy’s best feature and rubbed it between his legs. Then he slowly began to insert it.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, breathless.

  Moaning, Andy said, “I’m all yours.”

  Slippery with soap, Harden slid inside him. The feeling of his rawness sent a new sensation of electricity through Andy. It had been ages since anyone had penetrated him without a condom, and he’d forgotten the intensified pleasure of flesh intersecting flesh.

  Andy pushed back to underline his consent, submitting to him for the fourth time in fewer than twelve hours. Harden responded by flexing his pelvis, moaning and sighing above the din of cascading water. He clutched Andy’s shoulders and intensified his thrusting, forcing Andy’s face against the shower wall tiles.

  The pummeling water traveled down Andy’s back and streamed over his face. He trembled, pressed his palms flatter against the tiles. Steam and the aroma of the woodsy soap and the rawness of Harden weakened him. His arms fell flaccid, and his hands slipped. Bent completely over, Andy relented to Harden’s increased force.

  He used his fingertips on the shower floor to keep his balance, and Harden pumped and pumped, his grip stronger on Andy’s waist.

  “Do you want it inside or outside?” Harden said, never letting up his heaving thrusts.

  “Inside,” Andy cried. “Inside!”

  As if Andy had pressed a magic button, the first hot blasts ejected into Andy, and Harden screamed out. A fierce burning Andy hadn’t experienced in many years pushed him beyond boundaries, and he stroked himself to another orgasm. He watched as his semen swirled down the drain.

  Harden slackened, quivered, and melded with Andy’s bowed form. Harden chuckled, cried a country boy “whoop,” and stood straight. “So much for saving water,” he murmured between heavy breaths, helping Andy upright. “Christ, that felt intense without a rubber.”

  Sapped of strength, Andy turned and leaned into Harden’s chest. Their foreheads slumped against each other’s, and Harden stroked Andy’s dripping hair. Soon their echoing chuckles faded, and all that Andy heard was the continuing rush of water and the small puddle gurgling down the drain by their overlapping feet.

  Chapter 23

  ANDY carried two steaming mugs of coffee to the kitchen table and placed one under Harden’s nose. The other he brought with him to a chair opposite him. Andy was dressed in cargo shorts and Oxford, which still smelled of their night together; Harden wore light-blue jeans and a T-shirt. Ready for any Sunday in late summer. But it wasn’t any Sunday. Andy understood that.

  He was unsure how Harden might behave now that they were dressed and settled upstairs, the full light of day pouring through the windows. He waited, not wishing to be the first to mention what they’d done.

  Finally, Harden muttered, “I guess we got a little carried away.”

  Lost in his coffee’s glossiness, Andy shook his head. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’d be surprised how common this is. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s strange, that’s all,” Harden said, his stare locked on the table.

  A marquee of pain circled Andy’s head, and his lips throbbed. He slurped his coffee. “Try not to think about it too much,” he said. “That’s not always a good idea for anything, whether you enjoyed it or not.”

  His voice came even, perhaps too much. As if he were counseling a stranger rather than chatting with his former brother-in-law, a man with whom he’d just shared a weekend of incredible sex.

  Andy swallowed a gulp of coffee and said, “Was that your first time with a guy?”

  Harden nodded. “I came close once. In college, some guy in my dorm asked me if I wanted to… well, you know…. But I said no. I was too surprised.” He peered through the south-facing window toward the Anders’s farm. “I actually wondered about him over the years, wondering if I’d missed out on something.” He flushed. “I guess maybe I had.”

  “Did you ever think of me that way? I mean,” Andy snickered, “before you couldn’t take your eyes off me wearing your swim trunks.”

  Harden’s ears turned scarlet. “Once or twice in the past, I might’ve pictured what it would be like. You’re gay and good looking with a great body. What’s a guy to think?”

  Andy chuckled. “I was kinda checking you out in your bathing suit too. Guess I always found you hot. But that never really meant anything while you were married. Just so you know, I don’t go around seducing every guy I find attractive.”

  Harden sighed. “If I thought you were a person like that, Andy, I would never have let things go as far as they did.”

  Another silence. Andy looked in Harden’s direction, but more over the top of his damp hair and out the window, where he could see part of an airplane’s vapor trail streaking across the blue sky. He wanted to give the impression of looking at Harden without letting on to his wavering doubts. What should they do until the kids arrived? And then, how would they go about their lives as if nothing had ever happened between them?

  Andy could see Harden lift his eyes to him. Inhaling, he dared to meet his stare.

  “I’ve got a bad case of blue balls,” Harden said.

  “Try some ice.”

  “Ice down there?”

  Harden’s eyes narrowed, and his grin faded to a fine line. His fingers, positioned over the tabletop, flexed as if he were searching for something to grab. Perhaps he was reliving the pleasure Andy had given him, when Andy had taken him with his mouth the first time and Harden had clasped the bedcovers to control his squirming.

  Andy’s heart beat faster. He savored the elation, the amorous delight that kicked his brain into a dizzy spell, but he also craved a semblance of normalcy. He managed to guzzle what remained of his coffee without dropping the cup and stand. “All right,” he said, breathing in all the air his lungs could hold. “Meanwhile, we better make some breakfast. I’m starving.”

  “I’m with you, buddy.”

  Andy noticed Harden adjust himself after he’d stood. Andy too had to fix the front of his shorts. He set two pans on the burners and was about to ask Harden how he wanted his eggs, when the sound of a car in the driveway made them jerk their heads toward the window.

  The last time Andy had heard a car pulling up, Lillian had showed.

  Harden set the carton of eggs aside and peered out the kitchen window. Olivia and Mason were climbing from Lance’s SUV, clutching their small overnight bags. Holly jumped out from the passenger side and escorted the kids to the house. Harden went to meet them at the front door.

  Holly, dressed in nice slacks and a long-sleeve blouse, appropriate for church, followed Harden and the kids into the kitchen. Andy noticed she immediately spotted
the two empty bottles of Iowa cabernet sitting on the kitchen counter. Next, she shifted her gaze to the formal dining room, where the partially melted taper candles still sat. All a testament to Harden and Andy’s romantic weekend. A snapshot of time.

  But what would Holly assume from any of it? Her grin remained, but her eyes widened. Too wide. More of her whites were visible than the black pupils or the blue of her irises. She gave Andy a boisterous greeting and brought her arms to her sides.

  “Can’t stay,” she said, after refusing Harden’s offer for coffee and breakfast. “Lance and Damon are waiting for me in the truck. We got to get Damon to Dyersville for some Scout meeting. Had to skip brunch at your mom and dad’s. Don’t worry. We got Mason and Olivia to church okay.”

  “Let me say hello to Brother,” Harden said, accompanying Holly outside.

  With Holly out of the way, Andy ruffled Mason’s hair and lifted Olivia with a twirl, seeking their old routine. The breeze caught her hair, which was out of her typical ponytails and teeming with golden curls. Andy commented on how she resembled a movie star.

  She kept her arms by her sides and spoke with a cavalier air. “Aunt Holly did my hair for me before church. She curled it with her wand.”

  “Certainly looks magical,” Andy said.

  He held onto Olivia, staring through the window to Lance’s truck. Harden was leaning his head into the passenger side. Andy suspected they were discussing the kids. The brake light released, and Harden stepped back from the truck and waved.

  Lance gave a final toot with the horn, and the SUV disappeared down the driveway. Harden returned to the kitchen and asked the kids if they had enjoyed their stay with Uncle Lance and Aunt Holly. They answered through pursed lips that they had. Difficult to judge if the lingering uneasiness came more from Lillian’s visit or from Harden and Andy, who now, together, harbored an unmentionable secret.

  “Did you get any breakfast?” Harden asked them.

  Mason nodded like a polite—but indifferent—gentleman. “We ate breakfast before church.”