Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
***
Circa 1987
Michael and his new friend clinked tall glasses of iced lemonade. It was spiked.
"You're 21," the older man said, "right?"
"19."
"Oh well, who's counting?"
They drank. Both men were naked. They'd been naked at the beach and now, a mile or so further up the causeway, they were naked again inside the man's bungalow. The old-fashioned jalousie windows were cranked open and a steady breeze was blowing in. Despite the midday heat outside it was pleasant inside the small, concrete-block home with its surround of hibiscus and broad-leafed banana plants and other tropical flora. The house, itself just a couple of blocks off the glittering bay, and another less explicit curve of beach, had been built for hurricanes.
It was pleasant inside despite the overhead sun and the absence of air conditioning. But then again both men had stripped naked upon arriving. The waves of inflowing breeze cooled their bare, suntanned skin.
"This is good," Michael said, observing his tall glass as if he'd never tasted lemonade before, spiked with Smirnoff or otherwise. From a short distance, a few minutes ago, Michael had watched his new friend take a can of frozen lemonade from the round-shouldered fridge that looked to be the same vintage as the house, and its slatted windows, take it out, open one end and then slowly shake the frozen cylinder out into a translucent green plastic pitcher. Watching this Michael couldn't help but think about the cock that had so recently been in him. Not this man's cock but another's. The way he'd pushed in slowly, thickly, a little painfully despite the lube, at first. This was like the reverse of that.
The frozen cylinder finally plunked into the bottom of the pitcher and now Michael watched as his friend added water from the tap and then began stirring it with a long wooden spoon.
"You want to stir this while I get us some glasses?"
"OK," Michael volunteered.
As Michael took the man's place at the counter his friend gave his behind another pat, saying, "I love this ass!" Adding, from the nearby open cabinet door, "That was quite a show you two put on."
Michael smiled, but otherwise didn't respond. He just kept stirring in a rhythmic wooden circle.
"Do you know that guy?" the man asked, two tall glasses with flamingoes patterned on their sides in hand.
"He's another regular at the beach," Michael replied. "I see him most Saturdays."
"Does he fuck you every Saturday?"
"No. This is the second time, I think."
"You think?"
Michael got the grinning man's point. "The second time."
"Well it was quite a performance," the man repeated. He'd taken an icecube tray down from the freezer, the old-fashioned kind of aluminum tray with the lift-up handle? That breaks the cubes free? Michael noted that, unlike his mom, the man dropped the ice cubes into the glasses, not the pitcher. That way the melted ice wouldn't dilute future pours of the lemonade. He also splashed generous amounts of vodka not in the pitcher Michael was still stirring but in each of the flamingo glasses. It all made sense. That way if you wanted a glass of unspiked lemonade down the road, you could have it. Besides, it would take a hell of a lot of Smirnoff to spike a pitcher. An entire fifth? This way was far more practical.
Sometimes when Michael was in the kitchen like this with his mom, and she had just come in from sunning herself, in her bikini, their bodies would accidentally bump and Michael would get a secret thrill. If he was wearing nothing but his Speedo he might just have to run to the bedroom to pull on a pair of baggy shorts. Mom!
The good thing about sex with other men was that you didn't have to hide your passion. On the beach, in the kitchen, anywhere.
"How are we doing here?" the man asked, leaning in, hand once again falling to Michael's ass. His left cheek only this time, which he gave a squeeze. The hand cold—from the ice. "Let's give it a few more minutes. I'll take over if you want..."
Michael gave way. You didn't have to hide your passion but it could still embarrass you. Michael's penis wasn't erect but it was engorged, and curving downwards, sort of the way it had been while he was being fucked in the shade of the mangroves. Now Michael slid to the right, down the counter, hoping his new friend wouldn't notice. Not yet anyway.
He did. "Someone's happy!" the man grinned. He had hold of the handle of the wooden spoon again, the lump slowly dissolving below, in liquid that somewhat resembled sudsless dishwater. Michael and his mom would do the day's dishes together, after dinner.
"So this guy who was fucking you on the beach..." (We're back to this again, Michael thought?) "...he's just a casual acquaintance but you let him bareback you?"
It was as if the remaining frozen lump were in Michael's throat. He swallowed it, best he could.
"Yeah," the 19-year-old managed to choke out. His new friend, who was taller, thicker bodied, was looking at him, down at him.
"You think that's a good idea?"
Michael lifted a bony left shoulder in half-shrug. "Probably not?"
"Have you gotten the vaccine?"
"Not yet."
"I got mine last year," the man boasted. As if to say: When we fuck you won't have to worry. "I'd strongly recommend it if you plan on remaining sexually active. And for my sake"—smile—"I hope you do. I'd get it done as soon as possible if I were you, before the thing gets banned."
Michael looked over sharply at his new friend, who wore a day or two's half-greying beard growth. It stung a little when he kissed you. It was like sandpaper as his tongue invaded. "Why would they ban the vaccine?"
"Because the new government coming into power is opposed to such things?"
"What things?" Nothing about this had been mentioned in any of Michael's contemporary history classes at the local community college...
"All of this," the naked older man informed his new friend. "Us like this. Gay people. Gay sex. Gay love. Gay marriage."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Michael said. "About the vaccine, I mean. Why would they want people to...?"
The man allowed himself a laugh, a soft, short one. "Maybe they're trying to get rid of us? At any rate, I wouldn't wait. I'd get the vaccine in the next 30 days or so. If you need a gay-friendly doctor I can...Do you have health insurance?"
