Appearances, copyright 2006, by Etienne. All rights reserved.

-32-

Back at the Beach

Charles and I spent a lazy afternoon doing as little as possible. The late flight to and early departure from Atlanta along with crossing three time zones, had taken a toll. After a light supper and a couple of glasses of wine each, we crawled in bed before ten and crashed.

We slept late the next morning. I woke up first, and was a little disoriented at first until I remembered where we were. Charles had left the upstairs windows open, as the temperature was in the high sixties, and the sound of the surf had quickly lulled us to sleep. Not that we had needed a great deal of encouragement, after all that travel.

I looked over at Charles, who was snoring softly, sprawled out on his back, hogging the king size bed as he sometimes did, his morning erection pointing at the ceiling. As I watched him sleeping, his chest rising and falling, it occurred to me that while I had no idea what the future held for us, I knew for certain that there would not be much of a future for either of us if it did not include the two of us together.

An idea suddenly hit me, and I reached over into the drawer of the night stand, found the lubricant, and applied it to my butt. Then, I raised up on the bed, straddled his body, and slowly and carefully impaled myself on his erection. He became instantly awake and alert as I began to raise and lower my body on his shaft.

When I saw his eyes open, I said “Good morning studly.”

“Good morning yourself,” he said. “This is a hell of a wake-up call.”

“Well, now that you’re awake, why don’t you show me that you know what to do with this thing that I’m sitting on?” I said.

By way of an answer, he grabbed me and flipped me over onto my back without breaking contact. In less time than it takes to tell about it, my legs were in the air, my heels on his shoulders, and he was pounding my ass like a pile driver.

I came without either of us having touched my erection, just as I felt his cock begin to throb and spurt deep inside me. Eventually, his erection subsided, and he slipped out of me, allowing my legs to straighten out. He climbed on top of me and we continued to kiss, deeply.

“Whatever did I do to deserve you?” he asked, rhetorically.

“I love you too, babe,” was all I could say in reply. Then, before he could respond, I broke contact, rolled him over onto his stomach, and dove into his ass like a starving man, kissing, and then probing with first one, two, and then three fingers. Finally, I reached for the lube again, and prepared both of us. Then I plunged deep into him and gave his ass a thorough pounding. I stopped just short of orgasm and flipped him over onto his back, raising his legs to my shoulders. Then I continued to thrust into him while I simultaneously began to stroke his erection. After a time, he grunted and spewed semen all over his stomach and chest just as I was shooting deep into his bowels.

I pulled out of him and allowed him to lay flat on the bed, then I lay on top of him and sought his. We lay together for a very long time, savoring each other, neither of us wanting to break the spell, but finally Charles spoke.

“Babe, I’ve got to get up.”

“Not yet, please.”

“Sweetheart, it’s either that or pee all over us and the bed. Your choice.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” I replied, as I reluctantly rolled off of him, and followed him into the bathroom where we both relieved ourselves.

We took a quick shower together, and walked naked, hand in hand, down to the kitchen. Charles had set the coffee maker last night, and there was little to do except make some toast.

He looked at me across his coffee cup. “I just had a wild idea.”

“Well?”

“Let’s stay naked all weekend, right up until the time we fly home.”

“Works for me,” I replied.

“The sun should be just about right on the deck now - we can work on getting rid of these tan lines,” he said.

“We’ll need some sun screen for the parts that are usually covered up.”

“Got it handled,” he said, and he headed upstairs.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying towels, sun screen, two pairs of sunglasses, and curiously, a couple of socks.

“What’s with the socks?”

“We stuff our dicks and balls in them. Penises that have been exposed to the sun too much begin to have an unusual, slightly leathery texture and, trust me, sunburned balls are no joke.”

I had to ask “Now that is a truly arcane bit of information, however did you come by it?”

“Before I met Robert, I had a very brief fling with a guy who had no tan line. He told me that he had been laying out in the sun naked most of his life, and he never covered his privates when sunning. I didn’t tell him that it gave his penis an unusual texture because I didn’t realize it at the time - I only figured that out later after I had a little more experience under my belt, so to speak.”

We went out on the deck, and he was right. The sun was coming from a perfect angle, and it was plenty hot, despite the ambient January temperature. We took turns applying the sun screen to all the white areas which were normally covered by swim wear, and then he showed me how to stuff my genitals into the sock so that the elastic top of the sock kept everything in place and safely covered up.

He had also brought out a wind up kitchen timer, and he set it to go off in 25 minutes, explaining “even with sun screen, 25 minutes at a time is more than enough for a beginning.”

We laid back on adjacent lounge chairs, pulled closely enough together so that we could and did hold hands. The timer went off, and we turned over and covered each other’s butts with sun screen before stretching out flat on the lounges. When the timer went off again, we repeated the process again, first on the front then on the back, after which we went up to shower and degrease ourselves.

This, of course, led to some fairly sweaty and athletic activity which required yet another shower for the purpose of cleaning up.

And so it went for four wonderful days and nights. We ate, sunned ourselves, took long showers together and made love so many times we stopped counting. To put it crudely, we fucked as though there were no tomorrow. We did not see anyone, we did not call nor did we hear from anyone, and most importantly, we left the television turned off. We talked for hours and hours, and at times we lay silently on the lounge chairs listening to the surf and basking in each other’s presence. Sometimes we would have a radio tuned to an all music station.

On one such afternoon, they were playing ‘golden oldies,’ and I was actually paying attention to the lyrics, which was unusual for me. I didn’t know who they were, but the refrain they were singing was ‘I love you more than yesterday, less than tomorrow,’ and I thought it was sweet. The announcer eventually said that it was a song by someone called ‘The Swinging Medallions.’ “That’s so sweet,” I said.

“What is?”

“That song, the refrain. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Not really, what were they singing?”

“I didn’t hear it all, but I liked the refrain, which ‘I love you more than yesterday, less than tomorrow,’ and I think it is really a sweet sentiment.”

“M T Y L T T. More than yesterday, less than tomorrow. Come to think of it, so do I,” he said. “That could be our motto.” .

By Tuesday morning, we were both as relaxed as any human beings could possibly be, our tan lines were fading, and there was little, if any, information about our respective lives to date that we had not shared. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end, and all too soon, and we were on the cusp of having to return to reality.

Charles suggested, and I agreed, that we should slip back into Atlanta quietly, a little ahead of time and unannounced, so we did just that, arriving home at the townhouse late in the evening.

All of the windows which were visible from the street were dark, so he let us in and quietly disengaged the alarm. We carried our bags up to the kitchen. “I wonder where the welcoming committee is,” he said.

“You mean Lance?”

“Right. He should, under normal circumstances, be all over us by now.”

We walked quietly up the stairs and saw that Richard’s door was open and we heard sounds and saw flickering light which indicated that the television in his bedroom was on. Setting our bags on the floor of the master bedroom, we tiptoed down the hall and looked in Richard’s door.

An old movie was playing on the television, Richard and Bruce were snuggled up together, fast asleep, and Lance was curled up on the foot of the bed. The television sound had evidently masked our arrival. Charles walked quietly over to Lance and touched him on the head. Lance became instantly alert, and jumped off of the bed. Charles took him by the collar and handed him off to me while he turned off the tv and followed Lance and me out of the room.

Back in the master bedroom, Lance was all over us, his tail wagging at flight speed. “I know, boy. We are both glad to see you, too,” said Charles. We both sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes giving Lance some much needed attention. Finally, fatigue began to set in and we undressed and crawled under the covers. Lance didn’t even have to be told to seek his own bed, all was once again right in his well ordered world and with one nudge of Charles’ foot from under the covers, he jumped off our bed and curled up on his own.

We were sitting at the breakfast table over coffee, juice, and toast, with Lance in his usual spot waiting for tidbits, when Richard and Bruce wandered into the kitchen the next morning.

“When did you guys get in? Why didn’t you call me?” asked Richard.

Charles replied “late last night, and we decided to sort of slip into town unannounced. When you have pulled yourself together, come to the study and fill us in on what has been going on for the last two weeks.” With that we refilled our coffee cups, went into the library, and settled down on the sofa, Charles sitting upright at one end, and me sort of stretched out on it with most of my upper body across his lap and my head on the cushioned armrest.

Richard and Bruce finally came into the library and perched on the two wing back chairs.

“You two look awfully cozy and domestic this morning,” said Richard.

“About as cozy as the two of you looked snuggled up in bed last night when I turned off the TV in your bedroom. Have you picked out a china pattern, yet?”

This brought a blush to Bruce’s face and he said “Not yet, but we’re getting there, slowly but surely.”

Richard chose not to rise to the bait so Charles continued “Okay, bring us up to speed, starting with the death threats.”

“How much did Andrew tell you?” asked Richard.

“Not much, just that there had been anonymous letters at the office and shoved through the mail slot here, that sort of thing.”

“That about sums it up. Since the land lines here are unlisted, nothing has shown up on the answering machine. None of the letters had any fingerprints, so there is not a lot to go on.”

“We will be filing multimillion dollar lawsuits against the not so good Reverend in the next couple of weeks. I expect the threats will pick up again after that,” said Charles.

“Probably,” replied Richard. “Meanwhile you guys had better watch your backs, just in case.”

“Andrew said you had posted a guard, but we didn’t see anybody when we came home last night.”

“It’s not really a guard, per se. I have a crew that does neighborhood patrols in the Inman Park area for the resident’s association, and I have them swing by here periodically around the clock. I was waiting for you to get back before suggesting some more long term security.”

“Such as,” asked Charles.

“A couple of surveillance cameras on the house. All we have to focus on is the front door and the garage doors, and perhaps a couple at the back of the house. You have party walls on both sides with the adjacent units, and the back yard is protected both by the high fence and other buildings. That plus the existing alarm system should be enough.”

“Okay, buddy, handle it,” said Charles, “I’ll leave it in your professional hands.”

“I’ll get on it after lunch,” replied Richard. “What are you guys doing today?”

Charles said “we don’t have any specific plans, but I will certainly give Gran a call and see if we can take her to lunch. I’m not due back at the office until tomorrow morning so I intend to make the most of today.”

Richard and Bruce departed to their respective jobs, and Charles and I went upstairs and unpacked. I took our accumulated dirty clothes downstairs to the laundry room while he was hanging our remaining clean garments up and/or storing them in dresser drawers. When I came back upstairs to our bedroom, we made up the bed together. He looked at me “this is nice and domestic, isn’t it?”

“So it is,” I replied.

“Want to hear an idea that I have been mulling over since we went on vacation?”

“You know I do.”

“Let’s get cleaned up and go to Phipps Plaza.”

“Why?”

“So we can visit Tiffany’s.”

“Why?” I said that, but I had already guessed where this was leading.

“Because, my love, I think it is high time we bought matching rings for each other. I wonder if they can engrave the words ‘I belong to Charles’ inside your ring.”

“Great minds do follow the same path,” I said. “I’ve been having similar thoughts.”

We quickly showered, shaved, and dressed, and were soon heading up Piedmont towards Peachtree. Charles called Gran from the car and told her that we would like to pick her up and take her to lunch. He ended the conversation “....good, we will see you around 12:30 then.”

In the car, we discussed whether to buy a band or a ring with a stone in it. “Tell you what,” he said, “when we get there, let’s split up, peruse the store and each select a choice A, B, C, and D. We are so much in synch right now, that I’ll just bet one or more of those choices will be the same.”

When we arrived at Tiffany’s, we did just that, each of us allowing a sales clerk to show us a selection of rings, and each pointedly did not pay any attention to what the other was doing. In due course, I had selected four rings, two rather intricately carved bands one of gold, and one of silver, and two gold rings with small stones set in the center, one onyx, and the other emerald.

Charles finally came over to me with ‘his’ clerk in tow. “Ready to compare notes?” he asked.

“Yes I am,” I said.

We directed the two clerks to place the trays with our individual selections in them

side by side on the counter.

“What did I tell you,” Charles said. “Great minds and all that.”

We had each selected two of the same rings, the ones with the intricate carvings.

“Wow,” I said. “That is uncanny.”

“So,” he asked, “which one will it be.”

My clerk, who was definitely family, said “why don’t you each try them on, and hold your hands side by side - that will give you a better idea.” We did as he suggested, and finally settled on the carved ring of silver. There ensued a discussion about which finger was appropriate for two men, that is to say the ring finger on the right or left hand, and finally settled on the left hand. My clerk measured Charles’ finger, and before I went with him to pay for the ring, Charles’ clerk measured my finger.

“Give me a piece of paper and a pen,” I said.

“Here you go,” he said.

“I want these letters engraved inside the ring in all capital letters. M T Y L T T.”

“What does that stand for,” he asked.

“More than yesterday, less than tomorrow.”

“Oh my goodness,” he gushed, “that is so sweet.”

“When can we pick the rings up?” I asked.

“Let me check with the engraver,” he said, and went to the back of the store. He returned rather quickly. “If you can be here before closing this evening, they will be ready, say around eight.” I paid the bill, got a receipt, and went to locate Charles, who was just finishing up his transaction. “Your ring will be ready by eight,” I told him.

“Good,” he said, “so will yours.”

We wandered around the Mall until it was time to collect Gran. “Have you decided where we’re taking her for lunch?” I asked.

“I thought perhaps we would come back here to the Peasant Uptown,” he said. “She likes it well enough.”

We ran into a bit of traffic on Peachtree just before West Paces Ferry, but we were still at Gran’s house at the appointed time. By this time, I had learned that she was a stickler for punctuality. We both went to the door and Charles rang the bell. Goodman appeared at the door shortly. Before he could say anything, Charles said “Tell Gran that her escorts are here.”

“Certainly, Master Charles,” said Goodman.

When he was out of earshot Charles looked at me “I feel like I am about twelve years old when he says Master Charles like that, but there is absolutely no way to break him of the habit at this late date.”

Gran came to the door and looked us over. “The last two weeks have done you both a world of good,” she said by way of greeting.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” replied Charles. “Where would you like to go?”

“I have no particular preference at the moment,” she said.

“Okay then, how about the Peasant Uptown?”

“That will be fine, I haven’t been there for a while.”

We had a long and leisurely lunch and Gran remarked several times over the course of the meal that she just couldn’t get over how relaxed we looked.

“Well,” I said, when she said it for about the third time. “Think about it. The past two weeks are the first we have had without the trial hanging over our heads, literally since last May. The stress of all those months had really taken a greater toll that we realized.”

“What are your plans now?” she asked

“Back to the office for me,” said Charles. “Andrew will begin turning all of his duties over to me, starting next week.”

“And you?” she asked, looking at me.

“Well, I have one novel under way, and I have to catch up with what is happening with my real estate investments. Also, I would like to spend some time going through the things you have been dictating. You have been working on our project, haven’t you?”

“Oh my, yes. It was slow at first, but once I got started, it seems to have taken a life of its own. I dictate some things and play them back, and playing them back triggers memories that suggest more things to dictate.”

“Good. That was the general idea. We may just have a best seller on our hands.”

“Hardly that,” she laughed.

“You never know,” I said. “We need to begin thinking seriously about a title for the book, though. It ought to be something catchy.”

“Goodness, I don’t know what that would be,” she said.

“We will all give it some thought,” said Charles. “Perhaps one of us will wake up in the middle of the night with an inspiration.”

We took Gran home, returned to the townhouse, and amused ourselves in bed for a while. We loafed around the house and I fixed us a light supper around six. We finished that, cleaned up the kitchen, and were back at Tiffany’s by eight o’clock. The rings were ready, and we tried them on. They were each a perfect fit. For the price we had paid, they certainly ought to have been.

“Look inside your ring,” I said to Charles, after we were out of the store.

He took it off and did so, squinting as he read the inscription MTYLTT. “Oh my God,” he said, “our motto. This is too uncanny.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look inside your ring and find out.”

I did, and read the inscription MTYLTT. “That is too much, we are so in synch with each other. Thank you, my love.”

“Thank you, too, and you’re welcome. Now you drive us home.”

“Why me?”

“Because you will get us there quicker, and I want to show you how much I love you.”

We hurried back to the car, and I got us home more quickly than I thought possible. We hurried upstairs, past the kitchen, and barely nodded to Richard and Bruce who where evidently having a late supper.

Richard yelled “what’s up, guys?”

“We are,” Charles said, “talk to you later.”

In the bedroom, we tore off our clothes and pounced on each other. After a time, we went to the bathroom, took a shower together, and put on robes before going down to visit with Richard and Bruce, who were by this time, sitting in the library with wineglasses in their hands.

Richard looked up at us “What was that all about?” he asked.

“Bring us each a glass of that, and we’ll tell you,” said Charles.

Richard complied. “Now give,” he said.

Charles gave him the short version of our visits to Tiffany’s. “We had to rush home and celebrate in the time-honored manner,” he said. “There was no time to be civil, or stop for small talk.”

Bruce sighed. “Gosh that is so romantic, like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Well it is a fairy tale, when you think about it,” offered Richard.

That prompted a laugh from everyone. We took off he rings and showed them the inscriptions. I said “Sometimes we are so totally in tune with each other that it is scary. “

“Yes,” Charles said. “Before you know it, we will be completing each other’s.”

“sentences,” I finished for him.

“It’s getting deep in here,” said Richard. “Time to get a shovel.”

We visited with the two of them for a while. Finally Charles said “we need to go to bed and get a good night’s sleep. Got to face the world tomorrow, don’t you know.”

He took my hand, pulled me up from the sofa, and we went upstairs, followed closely by Lance.