Landfall - 8. I forgot to stop by the front desk....

The remainder of the next week falls into the same routine as the last. Dave coaching me in the mornings on my past, pool time after lunch, occasionally volleyball with our Tennessee friends, or other guests who'd checked in and later out, dinner out at night. Occasionally, instead of going to the pool, we'd head out to the beach. Nights spent cuddled next to Dave, or Dave cuddling next to me.

Yeah, sounds boring, but after the insanity of my life, actually nice to have some kind of routine.

Except it really wasn't routine. Multiple changes are taking place.

I'd realized that I knew nothing of what was going on in the world. Never seen a newspaper, hadn't seen the evening newscasts, and even the jokes on late night shows went over my head, since they were based on news. Quite a change, since I always kept up with the news, and thought about it from its impact on banking and economics. Hadn't ever cared about celebrities who were famous for being famous, so that hadn't changed.

Was that deliberate on Dave's part? Don't think so, the timing seemingly just worked that way.

Did go out and do some shopping one Saturday afternoon, the week before Memorial day—first time for that, and it was a treat. One of my flip-flops broke, and hell, we were living in 'em, so it became a necessary item. Found a nice handcrafted leather pair at a small shop at a reasonable price. And Dave, Jonathan, Greg and I spent the rest of the next couple of hours browsing all the small shops along a cluster of stores in the few blocks adjacent to where I'd gotten the flip-flops. Ended up spending a few bucks on non-essential stuff—just nothing with the area's logo on it, not a good idea if I accidentally wore it out later elsewhere. Nice though to just be Joe Blow tourist, even if just for a while.

Did find a couple of small gifts for my boys. Trey always did the boots/hat/western wear look, and found a great belt buckle for him. Brass back with an inset of seven different woods, each wood used as a component to depict a desert scene. Light birch used for the sand in front, dark mahogany used for the mountain range in back, with varying woods and their shading providing a sense of depth to the scene. Topped off with an inset of mother of pearl representing the moon overhead.

Cory was always preppy, almost always in button down shirts and khakis or dressier deans. Still had his boots on, though, even dress boots. Found a formal fountain pen, with medium nib, at the same shop as Trey's buckle. Made of 3 different woods in vertical stripes, the trim finished in gold, the clip in gold with a silver stripe down the center. The cap's crown, instead of using the typical Montblanc “star” insert, was made of mother of pearl laminated to a stainless steel back for strength.

Dave promised he'd get the gifts to the boys by the time they finished their exams next Wednesday before Memorial Day.

Must admit, buying the gifts kinda triggered a funk—can't wait to talk to the boys next week. Dave picked up on the quiet mood, so we stopped in and grabbed a drink at one of the pub-type places and talked some before we finished shopping. Dave and the guys' friendly banter helped lessen the mood, and we continued shopping. But still, can't wait to talk with 'em again.

Lots more people in town as Memorial Day is only a week away. Noticing 'em in the restaurants and bars when we go out.

Lot's more of 'em when we went out on a bar crawl that Saturday night. Every bar was jumping, lots of new faces, most guys shirtless, and there are lots of guys out there with sculpted bodies. They're obviously spending lots of time in the gym, and making the most of displaying their bodies when they're here.

Enjoyed the time out during the bar crawl, drank some, danced some, even got hit on by a few guys. Nice for the ego! Dave had gone to the john, Greg and Jonathan were on the dance floor, and a guy from the Bronx came up, kissed me hard, and tried to get me to leave right then with him. Gave him a “thanks, no thanks, I'm with friends” response, and he was about to fire back another attempt when Dave returned. Seeing Dave tower over him by 6 inches and probably 50 lbs, the guy immediately retreated with no further pickup attempt.

“Just another one of your admirers, huh, Barry?” Dave grinned.

“Yup, but you're safe—I'd already turned him down.” I grinned back.

Dave looked like he'd been slapped for a couple of seconds, then got the humor. “Good! I would have been worried!”

“Don't be...already told ya you were safe.” And I winked at him, smiled.

His face lit up. “All right!” Fist pump in air.

We both laughed.

Thank God Greg kept his drinking at a minimum, and acted as the designated driver. Headed back to the room after multiple drinks in the bars, both of us hot and sweaty, Dave hit the shower first. I climbed in when he was done, dried off, wrapped a towel around me, and went out to get some underwear.

Shit, we'd forgotten to stop by the front desk to pick up the laundry.

Oh, well, dropped the towel, climbed in bed bare-ass, Dave in his underwear. He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. “That's different.”

“All my stuff is downstairs, didn't pick up the laundry today. Sorry, guy, just the way it is.”

“Don't mind at all. But, if you're getting that comfortable, so am I.” And with that, he pulled his boxer briefs off underneath the sheet and tossed 'em aside. “Hell, I usually sleep bare-ass anyway, so this is fine with me.”

I cuddled into the crook of his arm and shoulder, he reached over turned off the light. Pulled me closer, his arm draped across my back. And like lots of couples, we talked in the dark, reviewed the day, and relaxed.

After about 10 minutes of this, Dave sighed. “This is damn nice.” Didn't know if he meant the conversation, or the comfortable cuddle, or my chubbed up cock resting against his thigh. But it was nice, regardless, and I said so. Dave leaned in and kissed the top of my still damp hair.

I squirmed a little, moved my hand across his hairy chest and pushed up to kiss him. In the process my thigh thrown across his leg discovered his hard-on. And that discovery led to my full on erection while in the middle of the kiss. No, I didn't stop the kiss.

We kissed for a few more minutes, my thigh jiggling his junk, my hand rubbing across his chest. I'd noticed he'd gasp and squirm when my hand crossed his nipples. Hm.....didn't realize guy's tits were sensitive.

We both came up for air at the same time. But my hand kept moving lower on his belly, and we both knew where it was headed.

“You don't hafta do this, Barry. You know that, right?” Such a soft question in the dark.

“I know. I'm ok with it. Feels good, and promise I'll stop if it doesn't, ok?” He gurgled his assent when I lightly pinched his nipple.

Hand back in motion, I'm moving across the fur of his belly, and the palm of my hand brushes against the head of his cock. Immediate sensation of overwhelming heat....and silk smooth skin. A little damp; he's leaking a little. A strangled moan struggles to be heard. His? Mine? My head is resting comfortably near the center of his chest, and he leans up and kisses the back of my head.

I swing back up and kiss him just as I grab his dick. His tongue retreats from its duel with mine as he gasps, and my tongue explores inside his mouth as my hand explores his cock.

Never felt a dick other than my own, other than occasional touches during experimental blow jobs when in college years ago. He's about my size, maybe a little longer, not as thick. And despite the fact it's a dick just like mine, it's totally different, too. Exotic. I'm taking my time exploring it. Feels smoother, hotter. Pulsing, damn near vibrating. I give it a little squeeze, and it jumps in my fist. His groan makes his lips tingle against mine while his hand is stroking my back and shoulders.

Move my fingertips down lower between his spread legs, to feel his balls resting in the bottom of their sack. Heft 'em with my fingers, they feel weighty, full. When did he last get off? Need to ask, but right now enjoying this. Wrap my fist around his sack, stretch a little and lightly squeeze. Rewarded with a moaning hum deep in his throat as the kisses continue.

Move my hand back up to the head of his prick and use my thumb to play with that little strip of skin connecting his cockhead to his shaft. Precum meets my fist as I toy with that strip, and lightly start to jerk his cock.

I break the kiss. “Turn on the light, Dave, I wanna see what I'm doing.” He does and throws the sheet back. I move my head down his chest, rest on his furry belly, and watch his prick drool.

I'm still jacking him, but I'm close enough I can reach out with my tongue and lap up the precum on the head of his dick. He shivers as though chilled. I lick again.

Even though I've had some great blowjobs in my life, never really wanted to give one as much as I do now. I move down, jerking the lower part of his shaft with my hand as my mouth sucks in the head, and my tongue swirls around it like I'm working on an ice cream cone. It does taste great, and the sounds from Dave mix with the clean musk smell from his belly to encourage me on.

I manage to get maybe half of his shaft in my throat and start pumping my fist in time with my head's movements. Hoping it feels like I'm deep throating, but I'm not that good at this--hell, it's only my third blowjob!--but really think it's working since my hand is slick, and Dave is floudering around on the bed like a mating salmon. Dave's hand is resting on the back of my head, lightly rubbing. My lower two fingers are reaching under his balls, jigging 'em as my hand/head move up and down.

Before I know it, Dave is gasping, panting.....”I'm gonna....I'm gonna....Fuck, I'm gonna....”. I clamp my mouth tightly on his pulsing rod, and my tongue is rewarded with a fountain of cum. Soy-sauce salty, Irish crème smooth, almost peppery spicy, kinda like some kind of exotic shot. It's surprisingly good—and tastes nothing like mine. I swallow as quickly as I can, and he fires off three or four shots, with the rest dribbling out, coating my tongue.

I swallow again, and look up, Dave's got his eyes closed, but grinning as he pants. “Fuck...I needed that. Thanks doesn't say it enough.” He looks at me, still smiling, but intensely. “You ok with all this?”

“Yup.” And without even thinking about the cum residue still in my mouth, I move up and kiss him. He pulls me closer while checking my mouth for cavities with his tongue.

We break for air a few minutes later, and he's still gasping for breath. “Give me a sec...I wanna make you feel as good as you've made me, ok?”

I look down at my cock, caught between his thigh and my belly, and my pre- is smeared everywhere. Obviously I enjoyed myself. “Take your time—relax.” And I cuddle in against him.

His breathing becomes more rhythmic, and mine matches his. I squirm a little, get even more comfortable, and look up—my lawman lug has napped out. I lay my head back down on his chest....and guess I racked out, too.

Wake up later to the most delicious moist, wet, hot feeling centered in my crotch. Reach down bleary-eyed to discover Dave's short haircut in my hand, and Dave bobbing his head up and down. Fucking great way to wake up! Try to pull him up for a kiss, but he just shakes my hand away and continues his work on my prick. He swings around, between my legs, and slurps first one ball, then the other into his mouth.

“Come on up here, Dave....I wanna kiss ya.” I can barely get the words out, feels so damn good.

“Uh-uh. I'm busy,” as his tongue does miracles on a ball as he sucks it in the back of his throat.

I'm cursing, grabbing the sheet in fisted hands, back arched. Don't know I've ever had anyone work on me this intensely, or for this long. Dave moves his head lower, and is licking below my balls....and grabs a cheek in each hand to spread 'em as his tongue works lower and lower. Before I can get the muddied brain in gear, his tongue is spearing into me. I've died and gone to heaven.

Dave spends moments, hours, days, hell, I dunno how long there before he moves back up and swallows me all the way down. Fuckin' magic. And then he starts to hum. The vibrations in his throat are like an electric current, and can't fire off a warning before I'm shooting a load in his mouth. He swallows like a starving man, gets it all, then pulls back and laps at the head as the remaining dribbles work their way out.

Satisfied that I'm done, he moves back up, kisses me 'till I'm limp pasta. “How'd I do? Was that OK?” Looks like a kid, hoping he got an “A” on the test in elementary school.

“OK doesn't even begin to cover it.” I'm whispering—only because that's all the strength I've got left. “Never had anything like that. And I'm glad it was with you.”

He beams. “I'm glad, too. Just promise me we can talk about this tomorrow morn—I'm beat right now, and starting to fade. OK? Talk tomorrow?”

“You bet. But, there's nothing at this point to talk about.....it's all good. Just next time, let me know when you're gonna do that—I might wanna do it myself!”

We both giggle at the recurring punch line, Dave lies next to me, pulls me close, pulls up the sheet, and turns off the light.

Sleep is blissful unconsciousness instantly upon both of us.