I began to keep a diary as something of a small void encroached upon my life. Doug and April were gone to Europe. They would return in October. I appreciated the emails and phone calls; but it was not the same. I missed them; but, primarily, I missed Milam. I poured myself into his book. I found links to dozens of essays he had published over the years. Every word made me strong, every word made me long for him even more.
I continued to seek honesty and spiritual freedom. I continued to desire the forbidden. Throughout the month of May, I attended boring parties with coworkers. The guys watched baseball and the women talked of crap like Oprah, soap operas, and public education. I feigned smiles and put in my two cents worth when asked. Though work was going well, I was bored there too.
The lesbian clubs provided something of an outlet, but the atmosphere proved challenging. Hannah had laughed before refusing to accompany me.
"It is not that I object to having fun" she rationalized. "But as Editor-in Chief, I don't imagine the owners would appreciate me being seen in gay clubs. I hope you understand."
Going to the lesbian clubs alone, I found that I was both popular and loathed. Pretty women always seemed interested, and they were always escorted by some bull dyke. The eyes of the bull dykes always telegraphed the same message- "move from your seat, smile at her again, and you will need an ambulance". Dancing with the single dykes did little for me. Their kisses stimulated me not.
By late June, I switched my routine. Friday and Saturday nights were prone to find me in "regular" clubs. In a bar called The Monies, I met a young man named Blair. He was nineteen and had just completed his first year of college, though he looked older and his fake ID served him well. As I was thirteen years his senior, it became apparent that we had little in common, other than sexual desires. I remained however, willingly bound to my inner circle. Doug and April and my feelings for Milam, these represented my freedom and my truth. To cheat on that truth would be to cheat on myself.
Blair and I served a purpose for one another. He was a whisper of youth, his presence like a never-ending spring fever. For him, I was a subject of study and exploration, a trophy in his fledgling case.
I introduced him to the basics of Milam's world, the theology of sex and self. He was fascinated by it all and we formed a bond sufficient to thwart his sexual frustration. He was not allowed to fuck me, not allowed to kiss me. Yet, by summer's end, he was reporting his sexual encounters and talking to me openly about his feelings. We were both comfortable now with the parameters of our relationship. These stretched only to one new routine- he wanted me to jack him off with each story. I felt I owed him something, and I have to confess I enjoyed watching his cum jet forth as he called my name.
In August, I paid for adjoining suites at the beach. Blair and I had a deal- he could bring any hot chicks he may pick up back to the hotel, but if they thought he was my son, out they would go.
"I am just kidding", he said following the pact. "I will be going back to school in about a month and I miss you already, Geneva."
I was a child, I realized, the last time I enjoyed such innocent fun, such closeness. Blair and I would hit the beach early each day. We would laugh as we squirted oil at each other.
On our second day, I fell asleep on the beach towel after he applied lotion to my back. I awakened some time later when he gently pulled the hair from my face. He kissed my cheek and announced that he was going shark hunting. I was the first to laugh as I watched him run toward the crashing waves like an eight-year-old. He stopped, facing me from a distance and garnering attention from others as he flexed what muscles existed on his skinny body. I laughed harder as the waves batted him around like a stray buoy.
In the evenings, we walked hand in hand, letting the tide bathe our bare feet. I listened to Blair talk of how he was in college only because of his parents. He had no idea who or what he wanted to "be"; which is why he was even more fascinated with Milam's philosophy and my feelings for the man.
I helped him as much as I could, reminding him that I was no Milam Andersen. I reminded him that I was still learning as well.
"It is the journey", I reminded him. "Not the destination."
The days passed like minutes. I showered and dressed with the realization that this was our last night here. Tomorrow we would load the car and begin our long journey home. I wondered how Blair would react to fine dining. I had made reservations for two at Rick's. I laughed, thinking how Blair considered hot wings and beer a meal fit for a king.
He picked at his food, staring and asking me what each item was as we went through the courses.
After dinner, we moved to the adjacent club called Rick's Sideline. Blair was an experienced drinker and a lousy dancer. It was enough however that he thought himself good.
We were back at the hotel by eight-thirty. I sensed his need to be alone with me, and we were back at the hotel by eight-thirty. The ride in the hotel limousine might have been romantic, if not for the enveloping silence. I recalled the feeling of his erection as we swayed our last dance to a song called "Sign Your Name".
"Can we please get back in the hot tub?" he asked as the limo stopped at the hotel's main entrance.
We had enjoyed the hot tub every night. How could I say no now?
Twenty minutes later, I noticed the full moon as I moved to the balcony.
"Your body is awesome Geneva", he said.
"Where did the Champagne come from?"
"Oh. I phoned here and ordered it just before we left Rick's."
I laughed. The little shit was trying to get me drunk.
"So, I haven't asked you", he said as I stepped into the hot tub. "What is it like being a magazine editor?"
I talked for approximately ninety seconds before Blair moved his mouth to mine. I let him kiss me for a long moment until his hand found its way to my breast. The alcohol in his system was not sufficient to override his trembling.
"Blair, no" I whispered.
He pulled away with anger. "Why can't I make love to you?"
"We have discussed this. We discussed it before coming here."
"Does this get you off? Does teasing me give you some sort of weird pleasure?"
He threw his Champagne glass.
"Blair, stop!"
"Is being a tease part of your grand philosophy?"
"That is not fair and you know it."
He backed away slowly. I watched the anger melt into sadness.
"I will pay for the glass", he said.
"Don't worry about the glass, Blair."
"I apologize."
"I think I am the one who owes an apology."
"No", he responded. "You're right. You outlined the rules from the start. You outlined the rules for this trip. You were honest with me."
"Let me be honest with you some more."
I took his hand before standing. We left the towels. Warm water dripped from our bodies as I led him to his room. His erection was prevalent as I sat him on the bed.
"Do you really want me?" I inquired softly.
His breaths were shorter. "You don't want me."
"This is not a rejection of you, Blair. I will fuck you right here and now if it means you won't be hurt, that you won't be angry with me. But my reasons are my own and I have explained those to you."
His eyes closed. "You're right. I don't want a pity-fuck. I don't want anything to mess up what we have had together. I love you, Geneva."
"I love you too, baby."
My lips met his as he lay on his back. Our tongues touched as the realization came to me that Blair would move on, that he would outgrow me. My hand moved to the yearning of his erect penis then. He accommodated us both by removing his bathing suit. He screamed my name repeatedly as thick cum exploded from him.
I left him long enough to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. His hand caressed my arm as I cleaned him.
"Can we walk on the beach one last time?" he asked.
I smiled as the thirsty towel absorbed his pleasure. "You read my mind, Blair."
He moaned as I moved the towel gently over the tip of his cock.
The sand felt good beneath my feet. Blair's hand felt good in mine.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that way", he said. "You must feel like you brought a four-year-old kid here."
