"That's good. So so good." Tom braced himself on the bed with one hand and pumped my cock with the other. The way his muscles tensed and rippled mesmerized me. For a moment I worried that I would cum faster than he wanted, but I kicked the thought out of my head. Tom was in control. I would cum when he made me cum...no sooner and no later.
Without thinking about the words, I spoke with my gut saying, "I'm yours."
Tom grinned in response and kept up his intensifying rhythm. "What did you say?"
I growled louder, "I'm yours." A tear rolled down my cheek as I said it.
"Show me. Show me that you're mine!" He shouted the last and stroked my cock harder and faster working it like a piston.
"Oh fuck," I moaned. Tom pushed me right to the edge. I knew that if he didn't stop, I was going over. He didn’t stop. He only stroked faster. He took me there, and I had no choice.
I yelled, “I’m yours!" as my cock erupted. I shot hard over his chest and abs. I was still gasping for breath seconds later when Tom growled and came, too.
My eyes opened wide to see his face and his body in the throes of full orgasm. It was beautiful. He threw his head back, and the veins stood out in sharp relief in his neck. He panted for breath while he continued to rock forward and back. He froze for a moment before falling forward on top of me. Tom smelled of both clean sweat and seawater. I tugged sharply at my restrained wrists. I’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in my life. I pulled fiercely at the ropes animated by fervent desire.
"Amazing?" I heard the word as a question and not a comment. He wanted to know if it was that good for me, and his focus on me forced another tear from the corner of my eye.
I smiled through the tears and said, "It's beyond words unless there are some new ones to describe it that you've been working on."
Tom slid down over my body to kiss one of my nipples. He sucked lightly, and I battled with the ropes motivated by an overwhelming urge to hug him. Tom pulled back from the nipple and smiled at me. "Would you like me to let you go?"
"No, but I fucking want to hug you!" I jerked at the restraints in frustration.
He circled the nipple with a fingertip then rubbed the moisture from his kiss over the tip. "I guess that's a reasonable desire." Tom slid forward again and untied the rope from each of my wrists. I instantly wrapped my arms tight around his body. My shoulders ached, but I ignored the pain. Nothing would prevent me from holding him. I crushed his chest to mine.
My lips found Tom's, and for the moment, the world was a perfect place. Flooded by the release of pent-up hormones that raged from the moment I first saw Tom at the Miami airport, I couldn't imagine anything better in life. He tasted so good, and his body against mine was so right.
He traced my lower lip with his fingertip and asked, "Are you hungry for breakfast now?"
"I'm starved!"
"Yeah, me too, but this was a perfect appetizer."
I nodded. "Perfect!"
My knees were wobbly as I climbed out of the bed and followed Tom to the kitchen. I sat at the table while he brewed a second cup of coffee. He told me that he would make omelets in celebration of the special occasion. In the afterglow, everything was hazy and slightly unreal. It would take some time to process the fact that Tom fucked me. I didn't know if I could share this bit of information with Stephen or anyone else in my life. I wanted to ask questions, but I bit my lip to stop myself. All that I already knew was enough for the moment.
The sound of Tom’s voice was back to a normal tone as he broke eggs and grated cheese. He said, “I think you'll like Key West. It’s a unique place, and it’s very gay-friendly. It has fascinating architecture and good food, too. You'll find out about Richard, but you have to agree to respect his privacy. Can I count on that?"
I wrapped my fingers around the coffee cup and sipped. "Of course. Thank you for trusting me." The trust exchanged gripped me like a powerful link in a chain that could not break.
"I think it's only a fair exchange, right?"
I sipped again and smiled. One of the questions spilled out. “Are you sure that you’ve never tied anyone up? You're good at it."
He tilted the skillet from side to side as he cooked one of the omelets. "Damn, since we're being so truthful and all, I guess I have to answer that one with complete honesty, right?"
Curious whether there was a fascinating story hiding behind the question, I said, "Definitely. It's only fair."
He sighed. "Well, Joel, you are the first other person I've tied up. That is true. I told you about trying things out on myself, and that’s happened for a very long time."
My cock stiffened again while I thought about Tom tying himself up. The next image in my mind was Tom tied to me, and I booted that out of my mind to concentrate on the conversation. "That's cool and kind of hot. That's all?"
Tom set the skillet to the side on a burner that was turned off. He walked over to me and palmed the top of my buzzed head in his big hand. He tilted my head back. "You are the curious one aren't you?" He had a stern expression on his face that quickly melted into laughter as he let go of my head. “Okay, yeah, I tied up other stuff for practice. Those big hunks of driftwood I tied to the posts probably wondered what they’d gotten themselves into."
I laughed out loud. "You've been living alone too long, Tom."
As he rolled a perfect omelet out of the skillet on to a plate, he said, "I think that's why you're here."
6
Key West
It was shortly after 10:00 a.m. when we climbed into Tom's Miata for the trip to Key West. Tom said it was about an hour drive, and he wanted to be on Duval Street shortly after the bars opened for the day. He also said the traffic would grow more intense as the day wore on, so mid-morning was a good time of day for a leisurely drive.
As we left Marathon, we crossed the Seven Mile Bridge, and I marveled at the intense turquoise color of the water. Herons and pelicans soared overhead. I watched a pelican dive into the waves and pull out a fish flopping in its beak. “I didn’t know the water could be this gorgeous. I've never seen anything like this."
Tom lifted his sunglasses off his nose and smiled at me before letting them come to rest in place again. "Yes, it is. Unfortunately, having grown up down here, I can never see it like a tourist or any other first-time visitor. For me, it's always been here. I think that robs it of some of its wonder.“
I reflected on Tom’s comment. "I understand. I'm not sure I'm ever as enthusiastic about Lake Michigan as some tourists are. I appreciate it, but not in the same way."
He reached across the car and ran his fingers up and down my thigh. After the events of the day before, his touch made me feel good. I leaned my head back and turned to watch the Gulf of Mexico pass by. He said, “The lower part of the Keys are a little wilder than Largo, Islamorada, or Marathon, and that's a good thing. We will have to go poking around on side roads sometime soon. You can still see places where the Florida Keys are like they were in my childhood.“
I grinned and asked, "Do I really have to work at all this summer?"
His grip on my thigh turned into a squeeze. "You've got to pay for that free room and board somehow." We both laughed.
Key West bustled with life. It hummed with the energy of a city compared with the small town atmosphere of Marathon. Tom's favorite bar was open to the outside air with massive awnings thrown open. Customers were already gathering even though it wasn't yet noon. Several of them knew Tom and greeted him with affectionate hugs. He described me as a student who he hired to help him out for the summer. More than a few soft chuckles and raised eyebrows met his explanation.
Tom explained to me that summer was a slow time of year for Key West. That made it his favorite time of year. He said that most tourists assumed it would be horribly hot in the Keys in the summer, but the ocean would never let it get too unbearably steamy. That meant we would see a higher concentration of year-round Florida Keys residents. Tom ordered drinks for both of us, and we found a small tab
le in a corner away from the street.
"Excuse me for a second. I need to send a text message." I looked around while Tom pulled out his cell phone. The bar itself was thick and dark constructed out of carved mahogany. Most of the clientele were older than Tom. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful. I expected it would get boisterous later, but early in the day conversation rippled through the air as gently as the waves washing against the shore outside. The benefits of living in the tropics were sinking in. I wondered if I would struggle with the idea of returning home at the end of the summer.
Tom focused his attention on me once again as he slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. "Someone exceptional is joining us for lunch."
“Exceptional?”
"It's a surprise." Tom explained how Key West had been a destination for writers since Ernest Hemingway spent time there in the 1930s. He told me about the legendary writer’s house and cats with extra toes. "They even made me a judge in the Ernest Hemingway Lookalike Contest one year. It was a hoot."
"So do you know a lot of other writers down here?"
Tom sipped his drink. "Several. I will introduce you to a few of them this summer. Maybe we should even host a get-together at home. We could have a cookout and swim."
"That would be great!" I leaned my cheek against his arm and hoped the public display of affection was okay. He didn’t express any frustration or alarm. Tom sipped his drink and reached around me resting the palm of his hand on my cheek.
After more minutes of small talk about Key West and fishing boats, we watched an attractive woman entered the bar. She was tall, perhaps almost six feet, and wore a conservative flowered dress hemmed just above the knee. Instead of clinging to her skin, it fell loosely. The fabric floated on air as she made her way through the bar. Long, glossy black hair trailed down the center of her back. She walked toward us as several of the bar's customers called out greetings. As she approached the table, she pulled off her oversized sunglasses and tucked them into a small clutch purse.
Tom whispered to me. "This is someone you need to meet." As she stepped up to the table, he stood and greeted her with a massive hug.
The woman spoke in a raspy but engaging voice. "Don't squeeze too tight, Tom, you might fracture something!"
He laughed. "You're a whole lot tougher than that, Rita. Don't pretend that you're not."
She sighed. "I try to be ladylike. I’ve banished the word tough from my vocabulary.“ Rita winked at me. I stood and offered my hand for a shake.
"Joel, this is Rita, one of the top native beauties of the Florida Keys."
Rita waved him away. "You're going to make me blush. How about a hug, Joel, instead of a shake? It looks like your body is well worth hugging.”
I opened my arms wide, and she gripped me with a warm, surprisingly strong embrace. “It’s good to meet you, Rita."
Tom pulled out a chair at the table. "Why don't you have a seat with us?”
"Oh, thank you." As Rita seated herself, she said, "The hug was worth it. Tom told me excellent things about you, and don't worry. He left out the dirty parts."
I blushed fiercely and wondered how much he did share.
She threw her head back and laughed when she saw my blush. "I guess there are dirty parts then! Good for you! Tom could use a little action if you know what I mean. We don't want him turning into a crotchety old man."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Can I get you a drink, Rita?"
"You’re a sweetheart. A morning margarita would be great, but tell the bartender to make it a little weak. I don't need to start with the heavy stuff quite yet."
I loved Rita's humor and her assumption that she was already my friend. Unfortunately, I was tongue-tied when I tried to figure out what to say. She put a hand on my forearm. All that I could manage was, "It's good to meet you. It's so beautiful down here. I knew that it would be, but it’s way beyond my imagination.“
Rita leaned close to me and whispered. "Tom's kinda beautiful, too, don't you think?"
Something about the way she said it called to my mind the previous morning, and I shifted uncomfortably under the table. "Uh, yeah.”
Rita trailed her long fingernails down over my bicep. "Oh, don't let me rattle you, sweetheart. Tom is the best friend a girl could want, and you are, well, you're handsome, seriously. I'm sure there are a lot of additional good qualities, too, that I haven't seen yet. Don't let me shake you up."
I sighed with relief when Tom returned with Rita's drink. Tom asked, “Are the two of you getting along? I don't see you wrestling on the floor yet, and Rita hasn't torn your shirt off. I think that’s a good sign. She can be a tiger when she encounters prey."
Rita's eyes opened wider. “Are you giving me permission? Wrestling Joel would be fun. You would know more about that than me, of course."
Tom jumped on the last line. “If she's embarrassing you, tell her to stop. If she doesn't stop, then I'll wrestle her myself.”
“Is that a promise?”
We all laughed. Tom said, "Now for the serious part."
Rita sighed. “It seems there's always a serious part. Life should be more fun than that.“ She sipped her margarita and licked the salt from her deep red lips.
I was confused. "Serious part?"
Tom nodded. "Joel, do you remember when I told you that I would clear up the mystery about Richard?"
They were both silent as they looked at me. Suddenly, I understood about Rita, and my jaw dropped. I looked first to Tom and then back to Rita. My eyes flicked back and forth again, and Rita smiled with a small nod. I asked, “Rita is...Richard?"
Tom said, ”No, honestly, Rita is Rita, but in answer to the question that I know you want to ask, yes."
"I toiled under the name Richard until I found the way to truly be myself." Rita reached the fingers of her right hand up to her hair and pulled a few strands over her right shoulder.
I spoke softly so I wouldn't let any secrets out. "And you never told..."
Rita shrugged and asked, "Has Tom told you anything about my genetic ancestors? Parents really isn't the appropriate term for them.”
I looked back at Tom, "Uh, no."
Tom said, “Let's all go for a walk. It might be easier to talk, and we won't draw any nosy bystanders. Rita, we can stop for lunch then, and after that, you can get on with your day if you need to."
Rita reached out and touched Tom's chin with a long fingernail before kissing him on the cheek. "Perfect."
As we walked up and down Duval Street, Rita explained that she’d grown up in an abusive household. Her overbearing father belittled her for enjoying anything that didn't fit his definition of masculine. He continually pointed out that he was raising a boy not a girl in boy's clothing. Her mother ridiculed the gay men in Key West. Rita considered her friendship with Tom in high school her only respite from the misery at home.
Rita said, "I got up the gumption when I was fifteen to tell Tom I thought I was really a girl instead of a boy. The poor dear was confused for a while, but he didn’t abandon me.”
Tom laughed. "I remember my first comment. I said, 'Just because we like guys that doesn't make us girls.'"
"Sweetheart, sometimes boys can be a little dense in there." Rita poked at Tom's head. "I won't hold it against you."
Tom reached out to hold my hand as we walked. He continued the story about Rita. "When it sunk in, it made a whole lot of sense. Even though I knew I was gay, and I was horny around so many guys, I never really thought about Rita in boy form as sexual at all. I think that deep down inside somehow I knew as well as she did that she was a girl and not a gay boy.”
Rita tossed her hair. "Well, I always did and still do think you're hot Tom Albertson."
I interrupted the comments. "So, just so I can try and understand if I have it sorted in my head. Rita, you're, um, straight? You like guys?"
"You've got a smart one there, Tom." Rita rubbed the buzzed hair on my head. "Yes, sweetheart, that is probably the only thing about me th
at is at all straight. Everything else is bent and crooked and twisted in a corkscrew, for sure."
I asked, “So you disappeared?"
Rita nodded firmly. "Yes, and I didn't look back. I knew there was no way they would ever let me live life as a healthy woman. I'm certain they would have tried to shut me away in an institution somewhere. And this guy here, he saved my life in so many ways."
Tom shrugged. “I’ve been a friend like you’ve been to me. I consider myself a humane human, and I’ve done what anyone humane would do.”
I beamed. It was a fantastic story, and it made me hold Tom in even higher esteem. "So, this stuff in the newspaper, Rita, have you seen it?"
"Yes, I have, and they are hell-bent on causing some trouble for Tom. They won't get anywhere though. It's a non-starter."
I liked her confidence, and I hoped she was right. Tom's only visible response was to look sad and reach an arm around her waist pulling Rita close. "I'm here for you. You know that, and now Joel is, too."
A few minutes later we slipped into a seafood restaurant for lunch. Rita was an expert at lighthearted and fascinating conversation. She lived in Key West in an apartment over a tourist shop. Her stories indicated that she knew almost everyone who lived year-round in Key West, and they were happy to know her. I was still curious about her personal story. "Rita, do most of your friends here know about your story?"
She shook her head. "No, only a select few know. I do try to be careful. You know, some suspect I'm a tranny, and I'm fine with them thinking that. I'll even tell them if they make it to my bed. There are plenty of us running around on the island, but as far as the disappearance and all, no, that needs to be hush-hush." She laughed as she leaned close to me and whispered. "And unless you like to eat stiletto heels for breakfast, you'll keep Rita's little secret, too, handsome Joel."
My Summer Page 6