"How many times did you do it in the shower, or behind a door, or in the dark in someone's bunk?" I responded testily to Marco's question about how often I had sex while he was away.

He stared moodily out the window at the passing landscape.

"You were a hustler when I met you. I'm sure you hustled your way through your jail term!" I accused.

"You knew what I was when you met me," he returned icily.

Touché. We continued our journey in mutual silence. The conductor finally called out our stop - Sayville, Long Island. As we disembarked the L.I.R.R. commuter train, I waved the white flag.

"I'm sorry, Marco, I had no right to say those things."

He shrugged without commenting.

Thom's Taxi carried us the half mile to the Fire Island ferry terminal where I purchased our tickets while Marco ordered up two coffees. We sat at opposite ends of a wood bench outside the ticket office and waited for our boarding. Once again I extended the olive branch.

"Marco, I know you've been through hell the past few months. Things will get better between us. I'd get down on my knees and apologize if I could."

"While you're down there, I could use a blow job," he grinned.

The ice was melting.

"Soon as we get to the hotel room I'll do anything you ask, anything," I promised.

"I thought we were staying with your 'boy toy',” he shot back sarcastically.

I knew I shouldn't have let him read Brad's letter.

"This first night's just for you and me. I told Brad we'd see him tomorrow."

I scooted down the bench and kissed him.

"Can we do this here - in public?" he asked with shock and surprise, pushing me away.

"Look around, this isn't exactly 'straightsville'."

Joining the throng lining up to board, we held hands like newlyweds. So many people crowded inside the steel-hulled ferry, we opted to stay on deck for the short trip. The churning of the diesel engines caused the metal deck plates to vibrate, giving me the usual reaction. Stepping behind Marco, I pushed into his firm round buttocks.

"If we don't get there soon, we're gonna do it right here," I whispered in his ear.

Marco reached around and pulled my hands to his own bulge as he pushed back against me. "See, I'm gettin' hard, too, baby."

Enjoying our closeness, we rode the rest of the way across the Great South Bay in silence. We finally neared the docks of Cherry Grove, our Fire Island destination.

"Let's be last off," I suggested, " 'cause I don't know where hotel is."

We stood on deck and watched the others crowd the gangplank, calling out to friends on shore as they disembarked.

"You guys gettin' off or what?" a deck hand hollered over to us.

"We hope to soon," I joked, but it went right over his head.

He turned and walked down to the dock.

"Come on, Marco, grab your bags, let's catch up and see if he knows where this place is."

"Excuse me, do you where the Grove Hotel is?"

"Must be your first time," he grinned, pointing up the walkway, "it's there on your right, other side of the bar."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," I said, disappointed.

It looked like a little motel, not what I expected from the name.

"Come on, Marco, it's only for one night anyway."

Our room, reserved by telephone before we left Miami, was a double on the ground floor facing the pool - not bad. I could see Marco was keyed up with excitement. I guess if I were locked up a few months in a concrete cell, I'd be bursting with enthusiasm.

"Rick, this is great. I'm going for a swim first. You can give me that blow job later."

"Sure, go ahead, I'll lick the chlorine off your body when you get back," I grinned.

He changed into a sexy black speedo and went dancing out the door, while I rummaged around the room. Bored with waiting, I glanced at my watch, almost happy hour. I walked outside.

"Want to go for a drink?" I invited, motioning to the bar on the other side of the pool.

"Go ahead, Rick, I'll meet you there in a few."

The vast inside bar and dance floor were dark and nearly deserted. I walked through to the outer deck. Guys lined up three deep at the outside bar and the tables were jammed with the noisy weekend crowd. This was more like it.

"My dear, you come here often?" said a familiar voice behind me.

"Bradley!" I shouted, over the din.

I gave my old friend a big hug. Odd how you always find a familiar face no matter where you go.

"Glenn and entourage are over there at a table," he pointed off toward the railing overlooking the bay. "So where's our boy?"

"In the pool of course. He couldn't wait. Just like a kid in a candy store. He'll be over in a bit."

"Well, my dear, you'd best keep your eyes on him. There's lots of candy to be had around here, if you know what I mean," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Don’t worry about Marco, he promised he's over that. No more drugs," I stated firmly.

"Not only that candy, dearie, the eye candy. Did you ever see so many gorgeous hunks?"

He fanned himself furiously with his hand as we strolled over to Glenn's table.

"So many men, so little time!"

"Look what I found lurking in the shadows," Bradley announced, "my dearest 'sister' from Key West."

Glenn rose and welcomed me with a big wet kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry you two couldn't join us at the house, I'm in the Pines you know!" he said smugly.

Introducing me to his group he ordered another round of drinks for everyone.

"A double martini for you, child. You must catch up to the rest of us. Where's that cute little husband of yours?" he drawled.

"He'll be joining us soon," I promised.

We gossiped for awhile but I was dying to ask about Sean, Marco's former boyfriend/manager/pimp. Glenn had whisked him away from Miami a couple of years ago, leaving the field open for Marco and me to build a life together.

As if reading my thoughts, Glenn brought him up.

"By the way, I had to give your friend, Sean, the heave-ho. He was stealing me blind - writing checks on my account, charging up all my store accounts. He was one hot number in bed, but how much can I be expected to pay for a stud anyway?"

Rhetorical question, I'm sure. I nodded and kept listening. Glenn preferred to pay for sex and the trashier the trick the more he paid. Gave him a sense of control, a power trip. As conversation around the table died down, Glenn turned to me again.

"Go get that boy, Rick, I've almost forgotten what he looks like."

"Perhaps I'd better go check on him. Probably can’t find us in this crowd."

I excused myself from the group with a promise to return. Wonder what's keeping him so long, I thought, strolling back through the darkened bar and out to the fading sunlight around the pool area. No Marco. Must be inside changing. I skirted the pool and opened the door to our room. guesthouse

"What the hell!" I exclaimed.

Marco was in our bed with a stranger.

"Hey, Rick baby, I brought you a present," Marco murmured.

They kept right on doing it, the other kid not even slowing up to look at me.

"Come on, baby, get undressed and join us," Marco pleaded.

I was astounded, stunned.

"Marco, how could you do this?" I finally screamed.

He just rolled his eyes slowly and mumbled, "I thought you wanted to do it with me."

"I don't do three-ways!" I yelled back.

I just couldn't share Marco with anyone.

Stomping toward the door, I threatened, "I'll be back in ten minutes and this asshole better be gone, or else!"

I slammed the door and headed for the boardwalk, pushing blindly past everyone, not knowing where the hell I was going. I just had to get out of there. Go anywhere.

A hand reached out and grabbed me from behind.

"What's the matter, Rick, you're going the wrong way."

"Oh, Bradley, Marco's dragged some sleazy trick into our room," I yelled. "They're in there now doing it right in our bed.

"Now, dear, calm down, let's not tell the whole world about it," he shushed me.

"I'm sorry, you're right." I looked down sheepishly and breathed out softly, "I'll be okay."

"Come on let's get another drink, this too will pass, or so they say."

He encircled me with his arm and led me back to the bar.

"Let's go inside for a few minutes. We don't want Glenn seeing you agitated like this. He'll start asking too many personal questions."

The inside bar was softly lighted, a few people had drifted in, last summer's hit songs were playing in the background. With Bradley comforting me, and a fresh drink in my hand, I started calming down. As I described to him the scene I had just witnessed, I suddenly realized something - Marco had been high. He was back on drugs.

"Bradley, you were right. I think Marco is doing drugs again - that explains everything!"

I suddenly felt better, and then worse as the reality of it sank in. Back on drugs and he was still on probation.

"How dare he bring someone else to our room!"

"And you've never done anything like that?"

"Not once while we've been together. I'm totally in love with Marco. I would never cheat on him or even suggest a three-way."

"Oh, so you've been celibate these past months?"

"Not exactly, no!" I replied defensively.

"I thought not, my dear. Remember I know you very well."

"I'm sure he got his share of action in jail - all those men."

"Ah, yes, so many men...” he shivered at the thought. “Well here's my advice, dearie, whether you take it or not. Go back calmly and with forgiveness in your heart. Show him you're willing to keep trying, talk it out if he's up to it. If not, wait until tomorrow and start on a fresh page, at least he won't be birthin' no babies," Bradley grinned. "But regardless, you two practice safe sex! When you get back home, get tested. 'Nuff said. Now scoot back to your room, I'll see you at Glenn's for brunch on Sunday - twelve noon, don't forget."

Bradley was right. Be calm and cool, can't argue with someone while they're high. I slipped quietly into our room and found Marco stretched out on the bed alone, sleeping soundly. He looks so cute when he's asleep, his tousled hair down in his eyes, curling around his ears - like a sleeping angel. In spite of everything, I really love him.

DAY TWO

I was out of bed at dawn's first light, Marco still peacefully slumbering. After checking with the front desk about a place for breakfast, I returned and showered.

"Hey, baby, I'm sorry I passed out on you last night..." Marco began as he slipped into the shower behind me. guesthouse

"So much for the honeymoon," I broke in.

"But I'm horny now,” he continued, slipping his arms around me.

Must be reflexive, every time I'm near Marco I get the same reaction, even when I'm angry with him. I reached behind and pulled him up against me. He was ready!

"I wanna do it right here, baby," he breathed into my ear, soaping up.

"No, use the conditioner. That soap'll hurt, it burns," I protested.

"So you been with anyone else while I was gone?"

I hesitated before answering. Should I bring up his behavior last night? No, don't go there, I thought, remembering Bradley's advice.

"Sure I had sex, a couple of times, but I'm in love with you, Marco!"

"I know you are, baby, and I'm not lettin' you go. You belong to me."

With surprising gentleness, he made love. As his passion increased, he nibbled at my neck.

"Oh you feel so good, I missed you, honey," I moaned, backing him into the shower wall.

Our passion increased with our actions, driving us to climax together. We spent the next few minutes gently soaping each other down, caressing, hugging, as if we'd never been apart.

"I love you so much, Marco. I've missed you like crazy."

We kissed long and passionately. Finally Marco pulled away.

"We've got the rest of our lives together, baby, I'm not letting you go, ever," he promised.

After a hearty breakfast at Michael’s, recommended by a hotel staffer, we sauntered back to our room, packed up and checked out. Directions to Brad's guesthouse seemed simple enough - head south on Ocean Walk toward the Atlantic Ocean and look for the wood tower with the flag. We passed many friendly people on our excursion, some pulling little toy wagons, like we used as kids. Curious. Finally, we reached the end of the walk and a sun-grayed wood monstrosity - all angles and decks and roof lines jumbled together. The carved wood sign announced its name, The Elsinore.

"Rick, thank God you're here," Brad greeted us, running out from behind the office desk and hugging me tightly, planting a big welcoming kiss, "...and this must be Marco. I've heard a lot about you," he said trying to hug him, but Marco pulled back and stuck out his hand instead.

"Yeah, likewise, kid," he responded coolly.

I should have prepared Brad for Marco's jealous streak, time to change the subject quickly. Brad did it for me.

"How about some coffee, guys? I got a lot to tell you."

He bustled over to the coffee bar and poured out three mugs.

"Go out to the terrace, I'll get Miguel to watch the desk."

We were seated around a little glass top table on the deck overlooking the beach and the restless Atlantic as Brad began.

"Robert's missing, he's been gone over a week. I don't know how to run this place. He said he was goin' into the city to take care of some business, he never came back!"

"What city?" I questioned.

"Manhattan's where his lawyer is, but he's gotta bar in The Village where I met him."

Brad looked about ready to cry.

"Take it easy," I soothed. "We're here to help out anyway we can."

I took Brad's hand and squeezed it gently.

"What about my money?" Marco broke in. "You got my fifty g's?"

He glared at Brad.

"It's in a bank. Robert put it in for me, so's I wouldn't have to explain where it come from," Brad said, quivering. "It's almost all there."

"What'd ya mean, almost? I want it all back - or else," Marco threatened.

"Hey, you two, knock it off."

"He said it's safe in the bank, Marco, so ease up."

"I spent a couple o' hundred when I first got here, to live off of. You know, 'til I hooked up with Robert," Brad explained. "It's earnin' int'rest, it'll all be back in no time."

"Yeah, I hear ya."

Marco jumped out of his chair and stamped over to the deck railing, turning his back on us.

"Don't worry about Marco, he's a bit uptight since his 'forced vacation', he'll be back to normal in no time. Now, what can we do first?"

Brad got up to give us a tour of the complex. Seems this was only one of several detached buildings, all of which comprised, Elsinore. Marco declined, saying he wanted to take a walk out on the beach, he'd be back later. Brad and I set off for a quick inspection.

"There's forty-eight rental units here, in six different buildings," Brad explained.

I let out a low whistle, "Whew, this is big time compared to our little Casa Palms."

"Yeah, that's why I'm in trouble. People are calling to confirm reservations, cleaning crews are coming every day to do the rooms, and bills are coming in. I can't write checks, can't figure the vacancies, don't know the work schedules. What'll I do 'til Robert gets back? That's why I need you Rick. You know how to do this stuff."

He looked desperate and I didn't blame him. He was in way over his head.

"It's nice to know somebody needs me," I joked. "Calm down, Brad, er'll do one step at a time. First, show me Robert's office."

Brad led me back into the reception office. The cute little Puerto Rican behind the counter was Miguel, he explained. We walked on through to a closed door behind the desk.

"This is where Robert does his work."

Brad showed me into the little paneled office. Small metal desks, filing cabinets, computer, bookcases - very compact, but neat and tidy. I felt right at home.

"How about the records - all on the computer, I assume?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Don't know the password, so I can't get in to check anything."

"Uh oh," I moaned, "I think we're in trouble. Guess we'll have to do everything the old fashioned way - pencil and paper."

I put Brad to work listing all the units. Building and room number, size, and rental rates were all arranged on a grid, down the side. The next thirty days were marked out across the top.

"If anyone calls and has reservations, get their name, telephone number and arrival date. Just explain the computer is down - temporarily. Just act normal, calm, gracious. Check their length of stay. We'll worry about the money part when they get here. Block them in on the grid by initials."

"I feel better already. Thanks, Rick. What about Robert, how am I goin' to find him?" he asked worriedly.

"Marco and I'll go into the city on Monday. We'll snoop around a little, see what we can find out. Don't worry, he'll turn up." I assured him.

"I knew I could count on you." Brad leaned over to kiss me.

"Better not be doing that, Brad, I've got to respect Marco's feelings. He's been a little edgy. Let's keep it very business like," I warned.

"Just like we did at Casa Palms?" Brad smirked.

"You know what I mean. I better go look for Marco. You think you can handle everything for awhile?"

I walked toward the office door.

"Sure, you go ahead. Let me go over all this with Miguel."

Brad bent down over the charts as I walked to the outer office.

"Anything you want, just ask," Miguel winked as I brushed past him - the little flirt!

I'd have to be very careful around here. Got to stay out of trouble, for Marco's sake.

Taking a stroll out to the beach, I found Marco sitting cross-legged on the dry sand right next to the lapping wavelets. I dropped down beside him.

"You, okay, honey?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'll be all right. Just don't want you messin' around with that kid. He'd better keep his hands off you," he warned.

"Marco, I love you - only you!" I exclaimed, drawing him into my arms. "Want to go see our room, I'll show you how much I love you," I teased.

"Yeah, baby, I could use that blow job about now," Marco grinned pulling me to my feet. "Let's go."

Walking arm in arm, we headed in toward the main building, bypassing the office and going directly up to the second floor. Brad had saved us a choice room overlooking the ocean, just above the office. The adjoining balcony was directly above the terrace where we had coffee earlier. Our own little aerie. Maybe we could enjoy that honeymoon now. We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, making love, napping, making love again. Marco seemed almost like his old self again, thoughtful and caring - and hot and sexy! I was a lucky guy. Don't mess up, Rick, I warned myself.

Marco was sleeping lightly as I called down to the desk. Brad assured me everything was under control now. He promised to order pizza and send it up to us.

"Good idea. Thanks, Brad. We need this time together."

DAY THREE

Our morning coffee on the terrace was interrupted by Bradley's telephone call.

"My dear, just a reminder, brunch at High Noon. Of course you can come earlier, but things are pretty dizzy around here just now."

"Thanks, Bradley, we'll wait 'til the dust settles. See you later."

"Oh, and dear, beware of the forbidden fruits in the Judy Garland Memorial Forest. Just put on your ruby slippers and keep on the yellow brick road."

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll see, my dear, ta-ta!"

He hung up before I could question further.

"Not 'we', 'you'," Marco announced firmly. "I'm not going."

"What do you mean? Why not?" I asked incredulously.

"I hardly know Bradley. I got nothin' to say to Glenn. I'd just like to be alone for awhile."

"It won't hurt you to make a token appearance. They're my friends."

"Yes, your friends."

"Marco, something's changed about you. You didn't use to be so hard.”

"You try living in a cell with 35 other guys for months! You'd be crying out for peace and quiet, too. That's all I'm asking. Try to understand," he pleaded.

"You're right, honey, I'm sorry."

I got up and hugged him, burying my face in his sweet smelling hair.

I was off to see the wizard, alone. With careful directions from Brad, I found myself walking east toward The Pines. A short walk from Cherry Grove, but one had to pass through a wild overgrown area known as the 'meat rack'. I could see one hunk after another lounging in the bushes waiting for a sex partner. Some cute, some average, and some were undressed. Eyes forward, Rick, I told myself. You've got to think of Marco - no casual sex - don't even dream about it! The path turned suddenly and there ahead was the most gorgeous hunk, stark naked, standing right in the middle of the path. guesthouse

"Going somewhere, cutie?" he asked.

My voice stuck in my throat.

"Want to take me first?" he offered.

I just stood there, stunned, speechless. Walking forward, he placed his hand on my crotch.

"I think the answer is yes."

He led me into a thicket, and pushed me gently onto my knees. I was speechless, my words stuck in my mouth, among other things!. The sensual feeling of this naked young body standing over me, while I was still totally dressed and on my knees on the sandy ground, was like an aphrodisiac. Then he grabbed my head and pulled me tightly into him as he finished. My heart was racing, my breath coming out in jagged spurts as I fell back onto my hands. He had released me and was disappearing into the undergrowth.

"Thanks," he said turning to me, "later, dude!"

He was gone.

"Well, my dear, don't you look disheveled!" Bradley noted, answering the door. "Where's your man?"

I made the usual excuses, up too late, too much to drink, upset stomach. Time to move on.

"What a stunning place. Glenn owns this?"

"Glennie may be rich, dahling, but not that rich," he replied. "It's a summer lease, one month every year, kind of like a timeshare. Belongs to an 'out of country royal', don't cha know!"

"I'm impressed."

"Come, lets get you a drink and I'll get Mikey to give you the tour."

"Mikey?"

"The current houseboy. They come, then they go. Usual story."

He led me to the bar, set up on the wood deck near the pool.

"Mikey, I want you to meet my dearest friend, Rick. Give him a drink, then give him the tour," he winked. "I'll be in the kitchen."

Armed with a mimosa, Mikey led me through the first floor rooms. We passed through an assorted crowd - male, female, and some in between, professionals, preppies, bronzed muscular gods, and screaming queens - the usual island crowd. Next we did the second floor. A curved stairway led upward to an open gallery which looked down onto the living area. Several bedroom doors were closed - the weekend houseguests primping and flossing before descending to the party.

"Wait'll you see the lookout," Mikey called out excitedly.

He led me into a sumptuously furnished master suite. Three sides of glass looked out to the ocean and up and down the beach. I stood looking, enthralled, at the magnificent panorama.

"Mikey, is this Glenn's room?" I called out.

No answer. I turned around, but no Mikey, the room was empty.

"Mikey, where are you?"

Suddenly a panel in the wall flipped open revealing a hidden stairway. Mikey stood there on the steps, with only his shirt on, beckoning me to follow him. guesthouse

"Wanna see my special place?" he smiled seductively, then disappeared up the stairs.

Oh dear, here we go again. I followed him upward, emerging onto a flat roofdeck surrounded by a low wood parapet.

"This is the lookout, you can see everything, but no one can see you!"

"This is your secret place?" I glanced out, once again, at the magnificent view.

"Oh no," he said, pressing his half-nude body up against me.

Taking my hand, he placed it on his smooth bare butt.

"This is my secret place. I want you. Please, Rick, please!" he begged.

The encounter in the 'meat rack' had left me hot, hard, and horny. Mikey scrambled over to a lounge chair, pulling out a beach towel and suntan oil from underneath.

"Come on, Rick, get undressed. I want it real bad," he pleaded. "Don't worry, no one will know, it's just you and me."

Rising to the occasion, I quickly stripped. Mikey had already slipped of his shirt and was lubing himself with the oil.

"Come on, give it to me!"

He turned over on his stomach and stuck his cute little ass in the air. I lay on top. Reaching back, he guided me into him.

"Oh yeah, Rick, you're so hot!"

He kept writhing with pleasure.

"Harder, harder," he insisted.

I complied, bringing myself to the brink quickly.

"Come on, fill me with that sweet load."

"Oh yeah, baby," I gasped, "here it comes!"

I thrust in hard and deep letting loose with a shudder. He tightened around me. I collapsed on top of him, groaning with satisfaction.

"Mikey, you're too much!" I breathed.

We lay as if glued together for several more minutes.

"Here, let me do you," I whispered into his ear, as I reached under him.

"I already came, Rick. I came when you did," he grinned up at me. "We gotta go back down, they'll be looking for me."

Mikey wiped himself dry with the towel.

"If you wanna shower first, you can use my room," he offered.

"Yeah, maybe I better," I smiled, "Bradley already called me disheveled."

"What's that mean?"

"Tell ya later. Where's your room?"

"Well, my dear, don't you look refreshed," Bradley commented as I descended the stairs.

"Mikey take good care of you?" he grinned wickedly.

"Oh yeah, he's very good at his job. Where is he anyway?"

"I believe he's conducting another tour up at the lookout as we speak."

"Why that little whore!" I exclaimed.

"Look who's talking, dearie! Let's go get drunk," he encouraged, grabbing my arm and guiding me back outside to the bar.

By four o'clock I was sated with too much rich food and lots of champagne. The party had gained in intensity, keeping Glenn, Bradley, and Mikey busy. I slipped unnoticed out past the pool deck and down a few steps to the beach, figuring it might be safer to walk back home along the water's edge and not through the dunes with all the temptations. Probably had too much to drink, all the houses looked alike from down on the beach. Aha, I finally spied the tower of Elsinore. Scrambling up the slight rise from the beach toward the terrace, I could here voices from our balcony just above. Marco must be back, thank goodness, I was too sloshed to go looking for him.

"Hey, honey, I'm back," I announced opening our door.

Must still be out on the balcony, I thought, but the draperies were closed against the setting sun. I pulled them open. Wish I hadn't. There was Marco leaning over a lounge, getting it on Brad! guesthouse

"Join the party, baby,” Marco insisted. "Your 'boy toy' says you're great in bed. He wants you to do him again."

Closing the draperies, I slipped out of my clothes and crawled under the bedcovers. Couldn't deal with those two right now, maybe tomorrow. Nothing makes sense. Sleepy now...maybe later...tomorrow...

Something hard pressed into my back as I was gently massaged - it felt so good. Was I dreaming? It must be the middle of the night, the room was pitch black. Closing my eyes again I nestled back against the warmth of flesh tight against me. As the stroking continued, I grew harder. The rigid cock behind me rubbed back and forth between my cheeks, gently at first, then more insistently.

"Yeah, baby, I want you inside me," I moaned, wriggling to accommodate the probing. "That's it," I encouraged, "push it in where it belongs. Fill me up, baby."

The pleasure increased as the hand, now coated with lotion, worked me up and down.

"Oh yeah, I want to feel you inside me."

The pumping of my ass grew more intense. I pushed back as each new thrust pounded into me harder and harder.

"Does it feel good, Rick? Is that the way you like it? You like to get it, Rick?" he breathed into my ear as he kept increasing the rhythm. "Are you ready? I'm going fill you up. You ready, Rick, I'm almost there," he groaned as he bit down on my shoulder.

"Oh, baby, me too."

"Leave it in, honey. I want to keep you inside me all night," I murmured as I closed my eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep again.

DAY FOUR

The sound of running water brought me slowly to a conscious level. Morning light filtered through the gauzy draperies, as I heard him splashing in the shower. The sound stopped. He must be toweling dry. Time to face the truth.

"Everything okay in there, Miguel?" I called out.

Suddenly a head popped out of the bathroom.

"How'd you know it was me?" he looked incredulous.

"In the middle of the night, in a darkened room, half asleep, with a champagne buzz, I still know the sound of Marco's voice - and Brad's."

"You're not mad?" he asked with hesitation.

"Come out here and take a look in that mirror."

He stood in front of the door looking very sexy as his smooth lithe young body was reflected back to me. guesthouse

"My lover walks out on me, and a cutie like you slips into my bed," I grinned. "Now, how could I be angry?"

"Yeah, I look pretty good. I do it good, too, don't I?"

"Don't remember. We'll have to try again when I'm awake," I teased.

"You mean I can be wit' you again?"

"If Marco pulls any more stunts, you can stay here with me. Why would you want to?"

"'Cause you're hot, man. When you walked past me in the office, I almost grabbed you and kissed you right there. I woulda done you right in front of Brad, too."

"Thanks, I needed that. I felt lousy when I came home and found Brad with Marco right here on the balcony. Couldn't deal with it."

"Didn't know about that."

He looked down sadly.

"Sorry, Rick. I was comin' back from a party and found Brad in our room wit' somebody."

"You two share a room?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah."

"What about Robert?'

"Better ask Brad about that I need my job."

"And...what did Brad say last night?"

"He said you ‘n’ Marco had a 'disagreement' and Marco was gonna sleep wit' him. Said I otta go and see if you was okay, and maybe, you know, stay wit' you."

Miguel came over and crawled back in bed. I pulled him into my arms, caressing him, kissing him lightly.

"Did I do right?" he asked.

"Yeah, baby, you did real good. Now I'm gonna do you real good," I whispered into his ear, taking him like he took me last night.

"What's up, Brad?" I said, strolling casually into the office.

He looked up sheepishly.

"Sorry 'bout last night, Rick. Marco and me got high on some stuff he bought. Said to come upstairs with him, I owed him 'interest' on that loan, he called it. Said he'd start taking it out in 'trade'."

"Sounds like him. Knows all about 'trade'! Where's he now?"

"Gonna sleep in awhile. He said he wasn't ready to talk to you. Wanted you to cool off or something."

There was a long awkward pause, but finally Brad offered, "You want some coffee and danish? We always set up a 'continental', Robert calls it, for the guests."

"Sounds good, we need to talk."

We took our coffee and rolls out to the terrace. Late Monday morning was not a big check-in time and the telephones were quiet.

"I've made a mess out of my relationship with Marco," I began. "He says I don't understand him, and maybe I don't. He promised he was finished with drugs, but he keeps on doing 'em."

"We only smoked a couple o' joints," Brad interrupted.

"Doesn't matter to his probation officer - cocaine, crack, pot, whatever. He tests positive, he's back in jail, bottom line, no pun intended."

Brad didn't smile, must have gone over his head.

"He's changed for the worse since he was locked up. I don't know what to do."

Brad remained silent, just listening.

"Enough about my problems. Tell me about Robert."

"He went to the city, on business. He promised he'd be back the next day." Brad's voice shook with emotion, "I'm worried, I miss him."

"Robert and you are lovers?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He's a lot older - but he loves me and said we'd always be together. He was going to fix it so his family couldn't stop us."

"What's with his family?"

"They're big shots in New York. They own lot's of stuff, you know, like office buildings, apartment houses, parking lots."

"What's Robert's last name?"

"I thought I told you, Radcliffe."

"Oh, yeah, Radcliffe Realty Investments. I've even heard about them in Florida."

"He said he was going to fix it so if anything ever happened to him, I would be taken care of."

"Like how?"

"Said the family trust could only go to him and his sister and their heirs. He wants to adopt me as his son, 'cause we can't get married like in New Hampshire."

"His sister didn't like the idea?"

"She's a bitch. Hates gays, said she'd be embarrassed to have me in the family, having Robert gay was bad enough."

The story unwound slowly, but I finally got a few facts. Robert owned a gay bar in the Village, had an attorney in midtown, and his sister lived in a penthouse on Park Avenue. Somebody might know something, perhaps a visit to town would be best, but I needed a guide. Marco was mad at me, didn't know New York anyway. Brad needed to stay and take care of business. That left Miguel.

"Where's Miguel today?" I asked Brad.

"He works the laundry room on Mondays. See, we got this all boy maid service - Merlin's Maids. Robert owns it. Got contracts with some of the other guesthouses. They clean and change all our rooms, then they move on to the other places. Miguel runs our laundry over in the next building."

"Can you spare him tomorrow? I need someone to go with me in the morning, too late to go into town today."

"Sure, if it means finding Robert, we'll all go," Brad insisted.

"You need to hold things down here. Keep Marco in line, if you can." Tall order, that! "He wants to have sex with you, fine, just no smoking, sniffing, or snorting. Got it?"

After recruiting Miguel for the trip to town, I spent the rest of the day poring over Robert's files looking for a clue. Didn't find much of value for my detective work. I sat back in the chair, letting my mind drift over the past few days. Something was vaguely nibbling away at my mind. Two invitations to Fire Island. Brad and Bradley. Mikey and Miguel. Marco and ....me! A bunch of pairs, doubles. Uh-oh 'double trouble'! Why does that sound familiar? I wonder.....

DAY FIVE

"I'd never have made it here without you, Miguel," I commented as we emerged from the Christopher Street Station of New York's subway system.

"Stick wit' me kid," he replied, imitating Bogie with a Brooklyn accent. "Since the bar don't open 'til after one, we got time for lunch?"

"Sure, you pick the place, I'm just a tourist."

Miguel led us to a quaint little cafe called, appropriately, Christopher's.

"It's gay, so's I can give you a big kiss at the table," he grinned at me devilishly as he grabbed my hand and pulled me in the door.

I let Miguel order from our cruisy young waiter while I glanced around the room. Exposed brick walls, wood beamed ceiling, potted palms, hanging ferns, reminded me of Key West. I felt right at home.

"Now tell me about you and Robert," I suggested, while we waited for our order.

"I met 'im at the bar. Used to hang around lookin' for dates. Robert said I couldn't hustle in his place no more, but I could get a real job if I was serious."

"So that's how you met up with Brad?"

"Yeah, I was barback, busboy, clean up, whatever needed done. Ol' Brad come in one day lookin' for a job as a dancer. Robert said he didn't need no dancers - see it's like a drag bar. He gave Brad a job like me. Brad kinda kissed up to Robert ‘n’ next thing they's goin' together, like boyfriends."

"So you got jealous," I kidded.

"No way, man, Robert's not my type, too old for me."

"And I'm not too old for you?" I teased.

"You don't got gray hair like Robert."

"Thanks...., I think!"

Lunch arrived just then and we tore into our food. As we were finishing our coffees, the waiter stopped by with a tray of tempting desserts.

"See anything you like?" he asked with a wink, looking straight at me.

I was about to make a quick comeback remark when Miguel broke in.

"Watch it, fella, he's wit' me."

"Just the check please," I asked meekly.

I thought it best to get going before Miguel made a scene, but it was too late. He walked around to my chair, leaned over and planted a big kiss. I turned slightly rosy as we headed for the door.

We passed several well-known gay boutiques, like The All American Boy clothing shop, as we strolled down Christopher Street toward Robert's bar. Since we were on an important mission, I resisted the shopping urge. We finally reached our destination.

"What can I get you gentlemen?" the bartender asked as we stepped into the cool darkness of Camelot.

"Lance, it's me, Miguel!"

Lance as in Lancelot, I thought, you got to be kidding!

"This is my friend Rick. We been lookin' for Robert, you seen 'im?"

"He stopped by early last week to get some papers from his office. Said he was going uptown to see his lawyer."

"You haven't heard from him since?" I broke in.

"Nah, once a week's about it, during the summer. Too busy on the island, I guess."

"Can we take a look at his office?" I asked.

"I don't think Robert would..."

"It's real important," Miguel broke in, "he's been missin' over a week. We got big troubles if he don't get back soon. We got to find 'im."

Lance reluctantly let us into Robert's private office.

"You got fifteen minutes, I don't want anyway knowing I let you in here. Got it?"

"Yeah, thanks," Miguel replied.

The filing cabinet and desk were locked, but I was able to look at the desk calendar and rolodex. No notations made on the day he disappeared or any day that week. The rolodex turned up a couple of names and numbers, the attorney in Midtown and his sister's private telephone number. Tried the lawyer first. He was out so I left my name with the secretary and the telephone number of Robert's office.

"Don't know about calling his sister, what do you think, Miguel?"

"Why not, all she can do is hang up on you."

I gave it a try. After being screened by a housekeeper, Ms. Radcliffe came on the line.

"How did you get this private number?" she began.

I explained we were seeking Robert as he had disappeared and this was our only link.

"I don't discuss family matters with strangers. Don't call here again."

She slammed down the receiver. So much for tact and diplomacy, I thought. The dragon lady is a bitch.

"Unless the attorney calls back, we're nowhere," I admitted, looking at Miguel helplessly.

"We could come back tonight for the drag show, I think Guin's real close to Robert. She might know somethin'," Miguel offered. "She runs the office when she's not on stage."

I called Brad from the office phone to give him an update, check on Marco, and get his permission for Miguel to stay with me for another day.

"Whatever it takes," he pleaded, "just find Robert for me." He hung up.

I turned to Miguel, "Okay, kid, find us a cheap room close by."

"Know just the place, right around the corner," he grinned. "They know me."

"I'll bet!"

We thanked Lance and told him we'd be back later to see the show.

"If Robert's attorney calls, tell him we'll be at...," I turned to Miguel...

"Chelsea House," he filled in.

We rounded the next corner from the Camelot and there, tucked in between two other nondescript buildings, was the most charming little brick Federal style townhouse. It was extremely narrow but rose four and a half stories above the sidewalk. Flying a gaypride flag in front, the recessed entrance was a half story above ground level. Inside the brass trimmed mahogany front door was an elegant little reception room decorated with Sheraton style antique furniture.

"May I help you gentlemen?" offered a pleasant pink faced man, eyes twinkling above his pince-nez half glasses.

"Robin, it's me, Miguel!"

"To be sure! I didn't know if you wanted to be recognized or not," he smiled warmly.

"This is my friend Rick, we're in town to hook-up wit' Robert, but he's not around today. You got a room we could have 'til tomorrow?"

"Let me see....hmmm....we're filled at the moment, but I could let you have one of the little rooms on the fourth floor, if that would do?"

He looked up at me apologetically.

"Half-price, of course, for little Miguel here," he smiled over at the kid, "... and remember Tea at four-thirty, if you gentlemen are not otherwise occupied."

Robin led us up the circular stairway, which ended abruptly at the third floor. The fourth floor, formally servants quarters, was reached from a back service stair at the end of the hallway. Our room was small and plain but offered a window air conditioner and TV, in addition to the three-quarter-size bed and wood dresser. The shared bath was just down the hall, but Robin assured us we were alone on this floor for the evening.

When we were alone, Miguel confided, "He and his lover are English, that's what's up wit' the tea thing."

"Oh, I see," I whispered back, "but I'd rather go out for cocktails. What about you?"

"Yeah, Rick, we could go to the Monster for happy hour. They know me there."

"You do get around, my little boy," I said pulling him down on the bed beside me and covering him with warm kisses.

We spent the next hour making love. Miguel's appetite for sex was even greater than mine. Finally we showered, redressed in our only clothes, and hit the street.

The Monster proved to be a friendly piano bar off Washington Square, filled with the after office crowd singing lustily to Broadway tunes. After a few martinis, I joined in. Miguel disappeared for awhile then returned saying no one had seen Robert for days. He was well known and respected by the bar owners and their employees.

We headed out for a quick meal at one of the many diners in the area, then on to the Camelot for the show.

After the first set of songs, Guinevere drifted over to our table, greeting us warmly.

"My Miguelito, what have you been up to?"

"We're looking for Robert..." Miguel began.

"Who's your friend here?" she broke in, staring at me over the tip of her unlit cigarette.

"Hi, I'm Rick. Just visiting Brad and Miguel, trying to help them locate Robert." I filled in, as I offered her a light. "Can you help us?"

"Depends," she answered mysteriously. "Why do you need to find him?"

I quickly filled her, or him, in on the status of things at the guest complex on the island.

"Brad's trying his best, but he's out of his depth, and he's afraid something awful may have happened."

"Tell Brad not to worry, Robert should be back out there by the weekend," she assured us, breathing out a cloud of smoke across the table.

"So you know where he is?" I pushed on, trying to suppress a cough.

"Let's just say he's on a brief 'retreat' for a few days. He's perfectly all right. I really can't say any more, he asked me not to."

I glanced over at Miguel to see if any of this made any sense to him. He just shrugged and looked back at Guin.

"Well, enjoy the rest of the show, boys. I'll see that Lance brings you fresh drinks."

With that remark she made her way back to the stage, the light sparkling from her silver sequined gown and platinum wig.

"She's a cool one," I muttered.

"Yeah, Brad calls her the 'ice lady'," Miguel added with a smirk.

We stayed for the next set, then waved our good-byes and set out for our room.

"I missed you gentlemen at tea," Robin greeted us as we entered Chelsea House. "Will you be staying another night? You're always welcome."

"Thanks, Robin, but we've accomplished our mission. We'll need to start back in the morning. We're probably needed back at Robert's place on the island," I explained.

"Ah, but of course, the lodgings business requires constant attention. I hope you enjoyed your stay with us and please join us for a bit of breakfast in the morning."

We assured him we would and carefully made our way up to the fourth floor. The drinks had taken their toll. I left Miguel in the room as I made a quick detour to the hall bath for another quick shower before turning in.

Returning to our room, I found Miguel stretched across the bed, undressed and waiting for me. guesthouse

"I want you, Rick!" he insisted.

"Don't you ever get enough sex?" I grinned.

"Never, how 'bout you?"

Silly question, of course not!

DAY SIX

"Good morning, gentlemen, I trust you slept well?" Robin greeted us warmly as we entered the dining room. "Please help yourself from the sideboard, we're featuring blueberry blintzes and eggs florentine this morning. Eat hearty gentlemen."

He turned to greet another couple just entering the room. We lifted the covers and served ourselves generous portions from the silver chafing dishes. We chose a linen covered table for two tucked in the corner. Robin soon approached with our coffee.

"I do hope everything is to your satisfaction?" he inquired while filling our cups.

"I've been admiring your home," I commented, "and this breakfast is delightful."

"We do try to provide a quiet retreat amid the bustle of the city,” he explained.

"I hope I can find a chef as talented as yours for my new place in Montego Bay."

"Oh, you're in the lodgings business as well?"

"Soon to be if all goes well. Our little guesthouse in Key West was destroyed by fire. I've been negotiating for a larger project in Jamaica, sort of an old country estate cum gay guest resort."

"I do have a recommendation. My nephew is just finishing his culinary arts training in Paris. Perhaps you might look at his resume."

"Of course. Let me give you my temporary address in Florida. He could contact me there."

We finished our hearty meal, I thanked Robin for his generous discount, and we headed out to the subway. The matter of finding Robert seemed to be at a temporary standstill, and we might be needed back at Elsinore.

"So you're a rich guy like Robert?" Miguel noted.

"No way, José. I'm a working guy with an insurance check. Got to put it back into another place so I can keep on working," I chuckled.

Miguel looked perplexed as we charged on down the street.

We arrived in Cherry Grove in late afternoon under a mushroom colored sky. Storm warnings had been issued. Miguel left me at the office to go check on his laundry backup while I remained to fill in Brad of our news.

"Your friend Guinevere assured us that Robert is fine and will be back by the weekend, something about a brief retreat. That's all I could find out. Does this make any sense to you?"

"The ice queen would know if anyone would," Brad commented. "She and Robert are very close, they go way back. I think they were lovers once."

"How's my little Marco doing?"

"Been hanging out in my room since you left."

"Is he straight or...?"

"You better ask 'im. I think he wants to get somethin' off his chest."

I found Marco lounging on Brad's bedroom terrace, undressed, looking distraught. guesthouse

"Well, aren't we casual today," I joked. "You want to come back to our room? Clothing optional."

He slipped on his khaki shorts and followed me.

"Rick, we need to talk," he began. "I think I need help with my problem."

"That's a start, but which problem, you going to bed with strangers or your drugs?" I asked sarcastically.

"I want to go into rehab."

"I thought you were clean, all those months in jail."

"There's as many drugs in jail as on the outside. Guards bring it in - for a price. Families and friends pass it in. Sometimes the bathroom's so clouded with smoke, you'd think it was on fire. They're doing pot, coke, alcohol, whatever they can get."

"Great prison system we got, eh?"

"Yeah if you're not hooked when you go in, you are when you get out."

"Geez, Marco, I didn't know. What can I do? I love you, I want us to be okay."

"When we get back to Florida, help me find a program. I'm ready, I want to try," he said with desperation in his voice.

Suddenly I was very tired, worn out from all the tension and uncertainty, and the trip to the city. I pulled Marco down on the bed with me, holding him close, consoling him.

"We will work it out, don't worry. I'm always here for you." I promised, kissing him gently. "Do you still love me?"

"Of course, Rick, I've never stopped."

He relaxed a little in my arms. We lay holding each other, finally dozing off.

A tapping at the door bought me out of a very erotic dream involving me and....Miguel, or Mikey, or was it the stranger in the meatrack? It was all a little blurry. I slipped out of bed quietly so as not to awaken Marco. He needed to crash for awhile.

"Rick, can I come in?" Miguel greeted me at the door.

"Not now, Marco's asleep,” I whispered back.

"So you two's back together? Is that it?" Miguel demanded.

"I sure hope so. I love Marco."

"Where's that leave me?"

"We had good times together, you're a sexy boy Miguel, but my life belongs to Marco."

"Then we gotta talk. You owe me. I don't do sex for free."

"I didn't hire you. You came on to me. You're the one came into my room in the middle of the night. You're one super stud, I got turned on big time, but it was just sex,” I returned hotly.

"You better lay some cash on me. I figure I got a couple hundred coming. Better pay up or you'll be sorry," he threatened.

He turned and left me standing open-mouthed at the door. I checked on Marco, he was still sleeping. Thank goodness he didn't hear any of that outburst. Closing the door quietly, I walked down to the office to use a phone in privacy. The first floor was deserted as Brad had closed the office and gone to his room. The wind was gusting outside, branches banging against the walls.

"Oh, my dear, I was just going to call you," Bradley answered, " It's so nasty outside, we're staying in tonight. Glenn and Mikey are cooking while I do my nails. What's up with you?"

"I've been threatened again," I replied. "One of the cuties that works here says I owe him - for sexual favors."

"Well, do you?" Bradley inquired slyly. "Have you been hiring hustlers again, my dear?"

"It's a long story, I'll fill you in later, but I'm very surprised at some of the cold hard people I've run into around here."

"I could use a couple of hard ones myself," Bradley laughed. "Hot or cold!"

"Enough about my problems. What were you going to call me about?" I asked.

"To invite you and Marco, and whoever you're little trick of the week might be, to a house party tomorrow night. A friend of Glenn is debuting his newest boyfriend. He owns that fabulous guest house on the bay - The Belvedere!"

"I've wanted to see inside that place," I said excitedly. "It looks like a fairy palace."

"Leave your pink chiffon in the closet, dearie, it's a black and white event."

"Oh, we'd love to come, if I can keep Marco on an even course. What time?"

"About fourish, we'll meet you there. And remember - black and white!" As an afterthought he added, "Bring the hustler with you. Your big sister will work on another scheme to bail you out once again. Ta ta!"

DAY SEVEN

The bedside telephone awakened me with its shrill insistence. Bright morning light was streaming in the windows. Marco was snoring lightly. I quickly scooped it up.

"Greetings from Key West, amigo!"

"Jorge, what's happened, it's still early?" I retorted.

"We've got a closing date for your new home in Jamaica."

"So soon?"

"I thought you'd be ecstatic. Mr. Mandeville is fast tracking the deal. Says he has pressing business in England."

"I'll bet he does. Probably trying to outrun the long arm of the law."

"He's looking for a week from today. You up for it?"

"Sure. We'll pack up this weekend and head for Miami

"So Marco's coming with you?"

"For now. We'll see."

"Thought I'd get to meet your plane, take you home, and screw your brains out."

"You wish!"

"I sure do. Later Ricky baby. Ciao."

I let the receiver down gently, but Marco was already stirring.

"Who was that?" he mumbled from under his crumpled sheet.

"Jorge. Got our closing set in Jamaica in one week. You still want to go to rehab?"

"Yes baby, I got to. Can't handle it alone. Can you do the Jamaica thing without me for now?"

"If it will make you well, I'll take care of it, and have everything ready for you. When you're ready to join me, I'll come get you."

"Thanks baby. Can I sleep for awhile?"

"We're invited to a big party at the Belvedere at four today. If I let you sleep in will you promise to go with me this time?"

"Sure. Just hold me for now, 'til I go back to sleep."

After an hour of cuddling, I slipped out of bed and into the shower, leaving Marco sleeping peacefully. Time to check Brad's progress with the office work.

"Hi, Rick, coffee?"

"Please."

I entered Robert's office and took at seat at his desk.

"How we doing with the incoming guests?"

"Everything's working smoothly, thanks to you. All the check-ins are paying by credit card so I don't have to deal with any bank deposits. And we're full up. I'm puttin' the incoming bills into order of payment date. The cleaning crew said no problem waitin' on the weekend for their pay checks."

"Great. Your boyfriend Robert's lucky to have you."

"I hope he gets here soon. I miss him, Rick."

"I know you do," I said quietly. "We've got to be leaving this weekend. The closing in Jamaica is set for next week and Marco wants to go into a rehab program."

Brad walked around behind me, giving me a big hug.

"Thanks for being here for me. I owe you big time."

"Anything for my 'boy toy'."

I drew him in close and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Got to see Miguel for a few minutes, is he in the laundry?"

"Yeah, seemed a little pissed off last night when he came back to our room."

"We had a little misunderstanding. I need to go apologize. He'll be okay."

I left Brad working on his charts while I strolled slowly over to the laundry room in the next building. Miguel was busy folding sheets on a flat table when I walked in.

"Hey, Rick, whatcha doin' here?" Miguel asked suspiciously, looking up from his work.

"I came to apologize. I was out of line last night and shouldn't have said those things. Of course you deserve the money, I just didn't realize we were doing business."

"Yeah, well, you hurt my feelings. I thought you liked me."

"Miguel, I could fall for you in a minute, but Marco and I are like 'married'."

"So how come you let me be with you?"

"Because you're hot looking and very sexy, and you turn me on. Marco and I were having a bad time. I needed to be with you, even if I have to pay for it."

Miguel grinned as he looked down at my crotch.

"I think you want it now, don't you, Rick? That's why you come to see me. You got a big urge right now."

He walked around the table and put his hand into my pants.

"I think you want me to do you right here, don't you Rick?"

He went to the door and turned the lock.

"Take your clothes off Rick. I'm gonna give it to you, right here on the table."

He quickly slipped his jeans and shirt off. guesthouse

"Get down on your knees and take me now, baby!" he insisted.

I dropped my clothes on the floor and fell on my knees in front of him. I wanted him inside me so bad. I had to have him. He was right.

"Okay baby, now lean over the table," he ordered.

He pushed me down on a fresh pile of sheets.

"Does it feel good, Rick? Is this what you wanted?"

I could only moan in response

"Yeah baby, Miguel's gonna do you real good."

I was so hot and ready, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh, baby, Miguel knows how to make you happy."

Taking a fresh towel from the laundry pile he slowly wiped away the evidence of our lust.

"Oh, Miguel, I could fall in love with you so easy. You know just how to make me happy."

"This one was for free, baby, 'cause I could fall for you, too."

"Ah... Miguel, would you go with Marco and me to a party at the Belvedere tonight? Please?" I begged.

"Yeah, I knew you couldn't do without me. What are you gonna tell Marco?"

"That won't be a problem. He'll do anything I ask."

"Like you'll do anything I want, right, Rick?"

"Yes, Miguel, I'll do anything."

I left the laundry room in a daze, like I'd been hypnotized. Passion and sex does that sometimes.

DAY SEVEN - LATER

"Brad, will you go with us to the party at the Belvedere?" I asked, sticking my head in the office door.

"Sure, Rick, I'd like to see the place. Never been there, but Robert's a friend of the owner and told me somethin' about it."

"My friends Glenn and Bradley are invited. They were told to bring guests with them. So how about me and Marco, and you and Miguel?"

"You got something goin' with Miguel?" Brad smirked. "Can't be without 'im?"

"I'm absolutely loyal to Marco, you know that," I answered defensively.

"This is your 'boy toy' your talkin' to, remember? Oh, all right, I'll act as your cover and take Miguel. But don't leave me stuck with him. It's enough we gotta stay in the same room and work together."

"Meant to ask you about that, what's with this arrangement. If you and Robert are lovers...?"

"Just temporary, he told me, 'til he gets things worked out with his family. When he's in the clear on this adoption thing, we'll be together in his place."

"He doesn't live here?"

"Not in the guest house. He's got a fancy place in the Pines. Has a pool, it's on the beach overlookin' the ocean, and there's a neat little lookout up on the roof. You can see for miles. Great place to have sex, too!" Brad grinned.

I nearly choked.

"Uh, does he rent it out in the summer?"

"Yeah, 'bout a month. Makes enough to keep it for himself the rest of the year. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. I think I heard somebody describe it once. Sounds like a great place." I turned to leave before I accidentally said anything incriminating, then remembered to add, "Don't forget to wear black and white. You and Miguel be ready by four?"

"You bet. Meet you down here. We'll arm ourselves with drinks before we go," Brad offered, "I learned that much from being with you."

"I'll drink with you anytime, kid," I grinned and bounded up the stairs to check on Marco.

By four o'clock we were assembled in the office. Miguel looked stunning in black jeans and shirt. Brad was crisply turned out in pressed white ruffled dress shirt and white cotton slacks.

"You two look good enough to eat," I exclaimed, with a side glance at Marco.

"Grrreat!" Marco joined in, grinning.

Thank goodness, I think he was going to be okay tonight, if I could just keep him away from the drugs. Brad slipped into Robert's office and returned with a tray of iced glasses and a chilled bottle of Stoli vodka.

"I think we need a stiff one before we mix with the snooty guys over at the Belvedere," Brad suggested as he handed drinks around.

"Yeah, I could use a stiff one right now," Miguel retorted, staring directly at me.

I glanced away nervously.

"Drink up fellows, we don't want to be fashionably late."

It was only a short walk from the ocean side to the bay side where the Belvedere was located. Fire Island is a very thin strip of sand. As we approached the fancy iron gated entrance, we were stopped by a gorgeous hunk of manhood in a thin black speedo. Oof, there went the air out of my lungs, he was stunning!

"You gentlemen on the list?" he inquired quite politely. guesthouse

"Well, we're guests of Glenn and Bradley," I managed to stammer.

"Very good, sir, go right in."

He opened the gate for us. I could have done without the 'sir' bit, and Marco knew it, he giggled appreciatively.

A straight paved walkway cut through the formally landscaped grounds to the massive front doors of polished walnut. This time a pair of stunning young studs in white speedos guarded the entry and admitted us to the magnificent formal reception hall. A crystal chandelier tinkled overhead in the breeze from the open door as we entered. We trooped in awe through the hall and stepped down into the elegant marble-floored French salon. Filled with exquisite gilded Louis XV furnishings, it could have been a room directly out of the palace at Versailles. Spotting Glenn and Bradley gaily chatting across the room, I fled in their direction.

"Have you ever seen anything so...?" I began.

Bradley quickly interrupted, "Rick and company, please say hello to our gracious host and groom to be - Ernst!"

Saved once again by my quick witted friend, I introduced our 'company' to our host and returned to my earlier comment.

"I was about to say that I never expected anything so magnificently elegant on a vacation island."

A quick recovery.

We were shown to the bar, set up poolside - seems to be a custom on the island. A deejay hired from the Ice Palace was expertly blending the latest music with some very formal and classical sounds. Quite apropos for the occasion and the setting. I chatted with Bradley by the pool while, Brad, Miguel and Marco drifted off to explore the plush surroundings.

"Well, my dear, what do you really think of this place?" Bradley asked with a mischievous grin.

"A little over done for my taste, but certainly fit for a queen," I retorted cleverly.

"Ernst is rumored to be from royal lineage, in Austria or somewhere European."

Our conversation had turned to my Jamaican plans when my wandering eyes spotted a cute little waif on the far side of the pool. Standing alone, leaning against the wall, he looked a bit sad but very delectable in his white thong.

"I think somebody over there needs my attention," I noted.

Bradley, followed my gaze. guesthouse

"Down, boy! That's our host's intended. You may look, you may talk, but do not touch."

"But he looks so young, for such an old..."

"Careful what you say, the plants may be bugged," he quipped.

I strolled casually around the pool stopping in front of the waif. Just as I was about to introduce myself, Miguel appeared out of the crowd and grabbed my arm.

"Rick, you gotta see this," he began excitedly, dragging me by the arm back around the pool toward the hot tub.

He drew me into the shadows behind a decorative wall.

"What is it you want to show me?" I demanded.

Miguel guided my hand down inside the front of his jeans.

"This is for you baby. I need it now."

"We can't do anything here, somebody will see us!" I exclaimed.

"You know you want me, you want me so bad you can taste it," he grinned at his own cleverness.

He reached down, unfastening my belt, unzipping my pants, freeing me. Then kneeling down , he took me into his mouth. His hands squeezed, his fingers probed. He was working me into a state of sexual frenzy. Suddenly he stood up, pushing me down to my knees in front of him.

"Do me real good baby, make me wet all over. Then I'm gonna do you right here."

He pulled me back to my feet and entered me from behind. I leaned against the back of the wall with outstretched hands as he filled me with his love.

"Oh baby, you're never gonna forget Miguel. You'll dream about this the rest of your life."

I moaned with ecstasy as he brought me to a climax with him. We stood there, drained of energy. Miguel was holding me, still in me, when we heard a clapping of hands behind us.

"Encore! That was a great show guys," Marco said, stepping into the shadows with us. "I guess that makes us both addicts," he grinned at me. "I can go into rehab, but what are we going to do with you, Rick?"

Neither Miguel nor I could say a word, we were stunned and red-faced.

"Well, guys, I suggest we continue this in our room later. I wouldn't mind a little action when this party is over."

With that, Marco turned and left us in our embarrassed silence. We quickly pulled our clothes together and blended back into the crowd, in opposite directions.

A buffet had been set up in the formal dining room. As the crowd started moving indoors to partake of the delicacies, the whirring blades of a helicopter close overhead drew everyone's attention to the darkened skies above the pool.

"What the hell's going on?" someone called from the doorway.

Good question. The small silver chopper seemed to be descending to a spot out on the back lawn close to the water's edge.

"What a dramatic entrance!" someone else remarked.

Indeed! The plane plopped gently on the ground. A passenger could be seen stepping down from the opened door. The tall distinguished silver-haired man walked confidently across the expansive lawn toward us.

"It's Robert!" Brad exclaimed, excitedly pushing his way out of the throng.

He ran out onto the grass and threw his arms around the approaching stranger.

"Just like a fairy tale," someone else noted.

Our host, Ernst, led an entourage out to welcome him.

"Glad you could drop in on us, Robert. I was afraid you weren't going to make it. It's all I could do to keep this a secret and not spoil your surprise."

The plane ascended back into the heavens, leaving a sudden silent void. The deejay started playing, "If My Friends Could See Me Now", animating the hushed crowd to a riot of laughter. Gradually the party drifted back inside toward the sumptuous banquet being served by the swimsuit clad caterers. Each one a sculpted work of art - the waiters of course! Later, having lost Brad to his recently returned lover, I sought out Marco to see if he was ready to head back to our room. He was having an animated discussion with Miguel as I approached.

"Marco, can we go home now please?" I asked quietly.

"Sure, I'm ready. So's Miguel. Let's go."

We extended our thanks to the gracious host and his new boy, bid goodnight to Glenn, Bradley and their rarefied crowd, and quietly made our way to the door.

I chose to remain silent on our brief walk back to the guest house, not sure what was going on here between Marco and Miguel. I soon found out.

"Miguel's spending the night with us, in our room, in our bed," Marco announced. "Brad and Robert need their room to themselves tonight."

Miguel glanced over at me, a questioning look on his face, but for once, had nothing to say. Neither did I.

Marco led us up the stairway and threw open the door to our room. It was dark and cool from the ocean breezes blowing gently through from the balcony. He slowly undressed, carefully folding his clothes and draping them on a chair.

Then sitting up in the middle of the bed, his back resting against the headboard, he ordered, "Okay, Miguel, take off your clothes slowly. Excite me. Make me want you."

His eyes cast down toward the floor, Miguel complied. Stripping slowly, sexually, revealing his swelling manhood.

"Now crawl up here between my legs. Do me slowly while Rick strips for us. Go ahead, Rick. Take your clothes off very slowly. Give us a show like you did at the party tonight," he commanded.

I decided I'd better play along and see just how far he'd take this little scene. I was getting off on all this drama. As I slowly stripped, I grew firm with excitement.

"Get up here behind Miguel. Give it to him real good!" guesthouse

I quickly complied. I wanted both of them, now more than ever. As I slid in and out of Miguel, I could feel him thrusting up against me. He wanted me in him, harder and deeper. So did I.

Suddenly Marco pushed Miguel's mouth away from him. "Beg me for it, you little whore!" he ordered.

Miguel was really getting off on this double action. I could feel the wave of passion deep inside him and it was bringing me up to the brink of climax.

"Oh, baby, I'm almost there!" I gasped.

"Yeah, Rick,” Marco breathed, " fill that little punk."

"Now it's my turn," he announced. "Get up here, Rick, and take my place."

I was too drained to object and crawled up toward the headboard, laying face down, exhausted.

"Okay, bitch, put that talented tongue to work on Rick. I'm going do you long and hard, now that you're loosened up."

Marco took my place, jamming deep into Miguel. The harder he pounded into him, the more Miguel begged for it. Marco must have been close, as he let out a moan and collapsed on Miguel's back.

Miguel, still hot and horny, began taking care of himself.

"Hold it, trash boy, you're not done yet," Marco interrupted him.

Marco turned me over and came up to lie beside me, face to face, his arms around my waist, pulling my chest in close against him.

"Now, whore boy, get your face in here between us. Yeah, that's it, work that tongue, wrap those lips around me."

Miguel was like an animal in heat, couldn't get enough. Marco released me from his tightening grip and we both lay flat on our backs.

"Okay, bitch, lie down here between us. You've earned your little reward. Go ahead, jerk off."

He pulled Miguel up between us.

"Okay, street boy, you want more, just beg for it."

Miguel beat off furiously, his eyes glazed over, his head rolled back. He groaned and twitched as he spurted out. A deep moan escaped his lips

"You done, trash boy?"

Miguel collapsed back between us, Marco pushed his face down between our crotches.

"Sleep down there where you make your money, whore! You're playing with the big boys from Miami now."

Not surprisingly, we all fell into a deep slumber. No one moved a muscle the rest of the night.

DAY EIGHT

I awoke to find Marco's arms around me, his head resting on my shoulder. Miguel was gone.

"Can we go back home today, honey," Marco asked sweetly. "I think I've had enough of Fire Island for one trip."

"I guess they'll be able to survive without us," I joked. "Let's hit the showers and check on things downstairs."

We showered together, taking an extra long time in the healing warmth of the flowing waters. After we toweled off, I took Marco's sweet face gently between my hands, kissing him softly on the lips.

"I love you so much, baby! You'll never know how much I've missed you, and our lives together as one."

"Me, too!" he answered simply.

"Where did this come from?" I exclaimed, finding a breakfast tray resting on the sofa table.

Marco stepped up behind me, as we looked down at a wicker tray loaded with glasses of chilled orange juice, cups of steaming coffee, and a plate of fresh danish rolls. A little note was neatly folded and tucked under the edge of the plate.

I picked it up, unfolding it, and read:

Thanks for the great time last night.

I hope you two will always be my friend.

Miguel

"Geez, what's up with him?" I said, mystified, folding the note back up.

Marco just smiled.

"What did you do to him last night, bewitch him or cast a spell?"

"Actually, it was sort of Bradley's idea. He said you were having a problem with Miguel. Thought maybe I could break him in, like riding a bucking bronco 'til he tames down a little. I just gave him a dose of his own medicine. After all, who better to break in a whore than somebody who's been one!"

"Marco, you're not like that anymore."

"I know, and maybe he won't be either."

We packed up our few clothes, enjoyed the breakfast tray, and walked down to the office - hand in hand. Robert and Brad were in the little office going over the charts we had prepared earlier in the week. They both looked up as we entered the outer office. Robert strode out to greet us.

"Thanks, you two, for being a good friend to Brad and helping him through this ordeal."

"Yeah, you saved my ass!" Brad chimed in.

"If everything's in good order, we need to get back to Miami and Key West. Got a couple of things need our attention," I explained.

"I understand," Robert replied, then turned to Marco.

"I have a check in the office for you. Your money earned quite a bit of interest while it was in a market account."

"I'll settle for the fifty thousand," Marco replied. "Keep the interest for Brad. Consider it a housewarming present or dowry, whatever you want."

"But it's all your money," Brad protested.

"Where I had it, hidden in the ground, it wasn't earnin’ interest anyway. You keep it, as a finder's fee. I'm going to be in a rehab program, hopefully. Probably be six months or so. Rick'll put the money to work for me in our new place in Jamaica."

"While we're all being so honest about everything, I suppose I owe you two an explanation about where I've been all this time," Robert began. "I've already explained everything to Brad."

We both looked over at him expectantly.

"Upon my attorney's advice, to keep my family from filing some legal protest, I voluntarily checked into a private psychiatric hospital for tests and an evaluation. Call it a pre-emptive strike."

"Oh, dear," I exclaimed, my eyes opened wide in amazement.

"This way, when we file adoption papers with the courts, my sister can't come forward and try to have me committed for falling in love with this dear sweet boy."

He put his arm around Brad and pulled him in close. They smiled into each other's eyes. The love seemed to flow freely between them.

"We'll leave you two love birds alone and go say goodbye to Miguel," I winked at them.

"He's over at the laundry," Brad said, "taking care of business."

We strolled over to the next building where we found Miguel hard at it - folding sheets and towels. He looked up and smiled as we entered.

"Thanks for the lovely breakfast," I said simply.

"No problem," he answered gently. "Can I come visit wit' you guys sometime, I'll buy my own ticket."

I looked over at Marco, questioningly.

"Sure, kid, we'd love to have you again," Marco grinned.

Miguel walked over and planted a kiss on Marco and me.

"I like being wit' you guys."

I cleared my throat, glancing at my watch.

"We'd better get down to the dock, if we're going to make the ferry."

"I think you both 'made the fairy' last night," Miguel joked as he walked us to the door.

"We're actually one day too early for our flight back to Miami," I explained to Marco as we boarded the commuter train in Sayville.

"Why'd we leave so early then?" Marco questioned, looking over at me with furrowed brow.

"I still want one night alone with my lover, no interruptions, no strangers," I smiled back.

"Where will we go for the next twenty-four hours?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"Leave it to me, I know just the place, a little guest house off Christopher Street in the West Village. It's owned by a charming gay couple, and they have a room waiting for us."

The train jerked and lumbered forward. I glanced seaward from the train window, but of course I couldn't see the island. It had disappeared in the swirling mists, just like Camelot in the Arthurian legends.