September 2010

"I shoulda gone out to do the fishin' today. It's a great fishin' day."

"You fished Sunday to free up today—and you brought in a big catch that day."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"You've been thinking this was a good idea for a couple of weeks. You couldn't help but show your interest when I mentioned it. I bet you've been hard ever since."

"I don't like comin' in to Shernhaven harbor. I said I'd never—"

"You're doing a lot of things you didn't think you'd ever do again—and you're having a ball being balled."

Wal Fischer turned and looked Tab full in the face.

"I don't like bein' pushed like this."

"Yes, you do. Being bound to the plow makes you melt. If I beat you into submission to come here today, you'd love every stroke of it. Pull on into the harbor. I know you're stalling. I promise we won't be in the town long. As fast as we can walk across it, we'll be out of it."

"I'm not sure about this threesome thing."

"And that's why you've been hard for a week just thinking about it? You are as curious as the next guy. But if you find you don't like it, we'll leave and not come back."

"I'll probably be tied up."

"I'll untie you any time you want. You've got to trust someone. There's no reason why it wouldn't be me. I'm not any part of anything that's messed around with you."

"I don't think I can take—"

"Yes you can. Another cock is more flexible than a dildo. You loved it."

Tab tried to say he wasn't messing around with Wal with a straight face. If he hadn't been part of what messed Wal Fischer up, he wouldn't need to be here.

"Why are we goin' into Shernhaven harbor if we're not gonna be in the town."

"We're going up there, if you must know—to the Lower Head lighthouse." Tab pointed up the ridge they were gliding past, to the lighthouse. "If you know of another place to put this trawler in that we can walk up there from—not take a taxi or anything, since you won't want folks to know you're here—then you tell me how we can get there. You've got a slip reserved at the southern end of the wharf at Shernhaven. We can climb up to the top of the ridge from there. There won't be another building we'll have to pass between there and the lighthouse."

"I don't know. Isolated out there like that. I've never been to the lighthouse."

"Sure you have—at least beside it. Don't tell me you didn't go to the beach below that for fuck parties."

"I wasn't much for fuckin' then. The one I wanted to fuck me wouldn't."

"The isolation is part of the charm of this little rendezvous," Tab said, moving the conversation away from a bitter past, not wanting to get to close to what underpinned all of this. "You're a screamer if we don't use the gag—especially when you're doubled. You can scream in ecstasy all you want up at the lighthouse. The wind will carry it out to sea."

Wal turned and looked sharply at Tab. But then he couldn't help himself. He laughed. That took the tension out of the air, and he efficiently, without wasting time, motored around the Lower Head spit and into the Shernhaven harbor and headed toward the Fischer company slips at the south end of Wharf Street.

Few words were spoken thereafter as the two huffed up to the Lower Head ridge in the early afternoon sun. There was a slight nip in the air and the breeze was blowing out to sea.

"There," Tab said. "Any noise we make goes out to sea, not into Shernhaven. They won't even know we've ever been here."

Tab pushed a still-reluctant Wal along. Tab wanted this to work, the first time. He didn't want to have to figure out how to do this again. He had wanted to be back south again before the cold weather set in in Massachusetts. He hoped he'd be able to do that, but Wal's reluctance wasn't making him feel real confident about that. In just a few minutes, he'd know whether it would work or all blow up in his face. He'd figured that if Wal was prepared for even more than he'd get, there would be more of a chance of the plan working. Tab certainly hoped that was the case.

Few words were spoken either when they got to the lighthouse cottage door. Tab stepped up to the door and knocked. And then he held his breath and gave a little prayer.

Two surprised exclamations ensued when the door opened.

"Wal!"

"Alden!"

It had been a chore, but Alden Shern and Wal Fischer once more were within arm's reach of each other.

Upstairs the two other men shyly looked at each other—wanting to say something, but not being able to find the words, their eyes and bodies answering for them as they both stripped down and saw each other again—both still hard-bodied after fourteen years—both, judging by the hardness of their cocks, able to arouse the other.

Alden walked over to Wal and gently traced the aging marks of the belt buckle on Wal's chest. There were tears in his eyes.

Tab, already quickly naked himself, was pulling toys out of a duffel bag he had carried up from the fishing trawler. He turned to the men.

"Your choice, Wal."

In one hand, he held out the wrist-ankle cuffs he'd regularly used with Wal on his boat and the plastic cuffs he and Alden had been using here, in this room, on the headboard of the brass bed. In the other he held a riding crop, a rubber dildo, and a ball gag.

"If you aren't worried about the noise carrying down to the town, Wal, we'll dispense with the gag. I think Alden will want to hear your response to him after all these years—I know I will. And we might not need the dildo or the riding crop, either. I don't think we'll need a dildo when a second natural cock is available."

Wal shivered and let out a little moan. Alden, not briefed beforehand but fully in the moment, moved behind him and encircled his waist with his arms and, after kissing the old scars on Wal's shoulder blades, buried his lips in the hollow of Wal's neck.

"We're both going to fuck you, Wal. Together and at the same time. Gag or no gag? How strong is that bed of yours, Alden?"

It was all show. Tab knew full well what punishment the springs of that bed would take.

Wal moaned deeply again. Tab knew that moan. Wal was going to have a good time. He'd be mighty glad he'd come. Tab laughed at the thought—and come and come and come again.

The doubling was just a threat—to cause Wal's mood to spill over. Both Tab and Alden did work him together, and both of them did fuck him when the three were entwined with the others. But Tab fucked him first. And then, when Alden took over the honors, Tab slowly worked his way out of the threesome and off the bed, After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he slipped out of the cottage, carrying his somewhat lighter duffel bag, for the solitary walk back down to Shernhaven. The last he saw of them, Wal was bound by his wrists to the rails of the brass headboard and Alden was pounding his ass like there was no tomorrow. They hadn't used the riding crop or the dildo. And neither Wal nor Alden seemed to notice that Tab was gone.

* * * *

Tab spied the young guy from across the bus depot waiting room. He got up and sauntered over to the stand where they were selling newspapers, magazines, and candy. The young man's eyes followed him. He looked familiar. Maybe a younger version of one of the guys Tab had worked with at the Shernhaven Shipyard. Andy Shelton his name was. Could be a younger brother. Not a football player, though. More a swimmer. A lithe, flexible body. Tab could tell that by the way he'd moved when he'd come into the waiting room. Yeah, Tab would like a piece of that.

And from what he could see in the rigidity in the young man's body now, as he surreptitiously eyed Tab, Tab could tell that the guy needed to have someone get a piece of him. Tab had seen this before—mainly with young men unsure of themselves and guilt ridden but wanting it, needing it if they were ever going to be comfortable in their bodies. And this one had a very nice body indeed. Yep, Tab thought, what this young guy needs is to get laid. He needs a handyman. He needs to be fixed.

* * * *

Tab had walked down from the lighthouse, along the ridge of the Lower Head. All the time he walked, he was looking down into the town. Probably for the last time, he thought. It certainly looked like a nice town on the surface. Surface looks could be deceiving, though.

He was carrying his duffle bag. He'd left the sex toys behind, but he had the other clothes he'd come to Shernhaven with a few months previously. He'd just leave with what he'd brought. He wouldn't take anything else away from Shernhaven. There wasn't anything else he wanted from Shernhaven ever again.

When he got to Shern Park, he walked west on South Braintree Road to where the bus depot was on the corner of Braintree and Cushing. He took a look at the bank building across the road from the bus station. Trevor Cole was standing in the window. When he saw Tab approaching, he abruptly turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Tab bought his ticket and settled in for a two-hour wait. The bus that would head down to New York, on to Philadelphia, and then down the seaboard on I-95 would leave at twilight. Tab was going farther south than Philadelphia—to where there wasn't a nip in the air already in September. It would be night beyond New York. It was while he was sitting there, waiting, thinking about what had happened here over the past few months, that he saw the young man walk into the depot and over to the ticket counter.

When it was time to board, Tab held back. There were only four of them boarding the bus. When he mounted the stairs, he was happy to see that the old man and woman were together and were sitting near the front. The young man had gone to nearly the back of the bus. Tab walked down the aisle, his eyes on the young man's face the whole time. The young guy couldn't hold his eyes; he looked away.

But Tab knew. The guy had picked a seat near the back and moved to the window seat. He probably wasn't figuring on anything actually happening. He was just fantasizing, too up tight and scared to go farther with anyone. But he was in for a surprise.

There was a look of surprise but also a little smile on the guy's face when Tab sat down in the aisle seat beside him.

Tab felt the young man trembling. He knew he was half way there.

"Going far?" he asked the young man as the bus started up. Tab looked across him and out of the window. Trevor Cole was standing out on the sidewalk outside his bank, giving the bus a hard look.

"Philadelphia. Back to school. You?" He had to clear his throat as he spoke.

"Further south. Back to the sunshine. You from Shernhaven?"

"Yeah. All my life. But I feel freer the longer I'm traveling away from it. That's why I applied to Temple. Gotta get out of this town."

"Wise decision."

"And you?"

"Just drifting through . . . this time. So you're a student. A college student?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore."

Good to know, Tab thought. Free game. Past time when he should have accepted it.

"And an athlete too, I'd guess. Good body. Really good body. You're wise to keep yourself in shape like that."

"Track. The hundred-yard dash is my specialty, but I'm trying to work my way into pole vaulting." The guy was obviously pleased, but he sort of shrank in upon himself in response to Tab's comment on his body. He couldn't withdraw into himself enough for it not still to be obvious that he had a well-worked body, though.

Not a swimmer, but close, Tab thought. And he does need to work his way into pole vaulting. I've got a pole for him to vault.

"And you? What do you do?" The young man had spoken shyly, like he was on edge on deciding whether he wanted to continue the conversation. Tab assumed he did want that—and more—but that he was tottering there on the edge, scared of going over the edge. Tab wondered what experience he had, if any. Surely he'd known why Tab came back and sat next to him rather than in any of the other many empty seats on the bus. And whether or not he would consciously admit it, his own fantasies were what led him to pick a solitary seat at the back of the bus in the first place. He had invited it.

"I'm just a handyman."

"Ah, a Mr. Fix-it. Fixed much while you were in Shernhaven?"

"I hope so—at least for now, I hope. But fixing things isn't forever. Things seem to be what they want to be. You fix them, and then you look around and they're broke again."

"Sounds like Shernhaven. The more things change and get fixed, the more they go back to the way they were."

"Yes. Exactly. What's your name."

"Sandy."

"Sandy what?"

"Just Sandy's enough."

That's when Tab was sure. The guy wanted it. He was scared of getting it, but he wanted it. All that was needed was to play him right and then he'd open right up. Tab bet he would be a great fuck, that he'd be burbling his thanks after he'd finally given it up. Maybe not so good if he was a screamer, on the bus like this. But even if so, Tab had that red bandana in his duffel. They could use that. Tight. If he was new to it, he'd be tight. Tab liked that thought.

If he'd given his last name, Tab wouldn't have been sure, despite all of the body language. But he didn't want to give his name. He was hoping for action on the bus—if only the possibility of something he could fantasize about later, when he was alone. The exotic nature of having or even fantasizing sex on a bus, especially when all you've managed to do about having sex with a man before was in your dreams of exotic locales. Buses weren't that exotic for Tab, though. This was a favorite place to have sex for Tab. A fresh, tight ass, though . . . that was something even more a favorite.

"As we were saying, there seems to be a lot going on under the surface in Shernhaven," Tab went on. "Some would say it has a seamy underbelly."

"Yeah, that's the truth. You must have been pretty long to see that."

"Long enough. Sort of an interesting thing going on under the surface, though, don't you think? A man could really be free to rock out in Shernhaven. He could really come in touch with who he really is, don't you think?"

"Don't think much about it. There are a lot of expectations of what a guy is supposed to be and do. I try to focus on my sports. I think that's going to get me to where I'm going." The guy was getting nervous now. It was becoming more evident that they were talking about the same thing.

"Yeah, sports are good. There's a lot to be experienced in life, though, don't you think, Sandy?"

"Well . . ."

"Ever been to a bar in Shernhaven called Hernando's?"

Sandy froze. When he answered there was a shake in his voice. "No, of course not. I'm only nineteen and it's a bar and . . . well . . ."

"You know you can't wish away your feelings, Sandy. If you go through life just being what you think you're expected to be and not living life to the fullest of your desires, you will have missed out on a lot in life."

"I pretty well have my life mapped out for me if I keep clean and study and practice hard. Temple's a good feeder school for Penn State for athletes. I do well with the grades and the field competitions there and—"

"Why do you think your eyes were following me around in the bus depot, Sandy? Why do you think you came to the back of the bus, where no one else was, to sit? Your body knows. Listen to your body. Hell, look at it. Look at your crotch. You're hard. You're hard for me. You want it. You've wanted it for some time. You've just been too scared to step over that line." Tab was keeping his voice low. But he knew that Sandy had heard every word. He had taken each one like a body blow, each one knocking one more brick out of his defensive wall.

Sandy could hardly speak. He went rigid and when he did speak, it came out in a raspy croak. "Shit, man. I didn't mean . . . hey. What'yer doing? Stop that, I—"

"I don't think so. I don't think I'm wrong. Tell me I'm wrong."

Tab already had Sandy's fly unzipped. He reached his hand inside. Sandy didn't tell him he was wrong. That's not what a deep moan means.

"Relax, Sandy. Relax. It's what you wanted. You know it is. That's a nice cock. No reason to keep that a secret. Relax. Yes, yes. You're doing fine. Breathe. Don't hold it in. Relax. Go with it. Let it happen. See, there, that was good. It's done now. Don't be embarrassed. I'm flattered you wanted it that much. It's a long drive. We have plenty more time. You're young. There, see, you can start getting hard again fast. I've got a towel in my bag here. That's right, relax. You and I are going to have a real good time. Here. Feel what I've got for you."

They fucked in the dark between New York and Philadelphia. They'd already jacked each other off, and Sandy, now enthusiastic, had sucked Tab off. No one forward in the bus seemed to notice a thing. The old couple got off in New York. Six others got on, but they sat well forward—and most of them tried to go to sleep in their seats as well they could. Tab pulled Sandy over into his lap, facing the front of the bus and slowly raised and lowered him on his cock until both had ejaculated. The bandana hadn't been necessary, but Tab had had to cover Sandy's mouth a couple of time, and he blessed the bus for having noisy tires.

"I've never . . ."

"I know, but you did good. And a nice tight ass."

As they approached Philadelphia, their heads together, Tab gave Sandy the lip action he knew the young man would appreciate being given to assuage his guilt for letting a stranger plow him on an intercity bus. Although Sandy had quickly given into him, his responses indicated that if he had had man-to-man experience, it hadn't been too extensive—and it certainly hadn't been like this. In time to come, though, Tab was sure that Sandy would look back at the experience and want to masturbate as he relived it—or maybe be brave enough to give in to his natural inclinations. For now, he was doing those honors for the young man for one last time.

"I never asked you your name," he murmured.

"Tab. My name is Tab Dungan."

"Dungan. That name sounds familiar."

"If you've lived in Shernhaven your whole life, it should sound familiar. My family's been there for over a hundred and fifty years. My dad owned Dungan's. It was a bar. It's called the Blue Marlin Café now. My dad was shut down fifteen years ago for serving liquor to minors, which led to a serious beat down of a guy that didn't deserve it. My dad felt real bad about that—that he never did what he should have done about it. Because it didn't end there. The guy got beat down again."

"And you came back to Shernhaven to fix that?"

"To try to. My dad's dead. But he left unfinished business—something I regretted he did—that he regretted he didn't fix. And yes, I came back to see what I could do to fix that. Now, young Mr. Sandy without a last name, we're in the Philadelphia suburbs. Can you come one more time for Mr. Fix-it?"

Even if Sandy was too exhausted to, Tab felt that the chances were good he had, indeed, fixed what had been wrong in Sandy's life too—if only temporarily. Anything he could do to counter the generations-long undertow of sexual manipulation of Shernhaven would only be to the good.

-Fini-