Fish Out of Water - 6. Summer Fireworks

A Fish Out of Water

A Novella by Altimexis

6. Summer Fireworks

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said as I sat behind the wheel of our minivan, tooling down Highway 29. Dad was seated next to me in the front passenger seat, and the rest of the family, including David, were spread out among the remaining seats. That Dad was letting me drive, particularly on a holiday, was amazing by itself, but none of us was prepared for the surprise our parents sprang on us the previous night, right after dinner.

Up ’til that very moment, we all assumed we’d be spending the Fourth of July holiday working on painting the house. After all, the work needed to be done, and the sooner we finished it, the sooner we could get the house on the market. True, we were ahead of schedule, thanks in particular to David and me, but I never expected any kind of reprieve, other than perhaps to watch a local fireworks display at most.

What a shock it was to all of us, when our parents announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning for Washington! My parents had booked a few rooms in Arlington, Virginia, in a Holiday Inn where we’d previously stayed. There was one double room for the boys, one double room for the girls, and a single room for the ’rents. Getting an early start as we were, it would be an easy hour-long drive to Arlington, right across the Potomac from Georgetown, and from there, a short fifteen-minute ride on the DC Metro to the National Mall.

It would be crowded for sure, but we’d have nearly two full days to spend at the Smithsonian Institution and on the National Mall, and thanks to the location of our hotel, we wouldn’t have to fight the crowds to see the fireworks - we’d have a perfect vantage point to see them, right from our hotel rooms. Mom and Dad must have reserved the rooms as a surprise, before we decided to paint the house, and decided not to cancel the reservation. Way to go Mom and Dad!

It sure was different driving a minivan than driving a car. For one thing, I was a lot farther forward than in our car, and that took some getting used to. Dad talked me through it on the streets in our neighborhood before we got anywhere near a major road, let alone the Baltimore Beltway. Being farther forward - I think I was actually over the front wheels - made for a really weird feeling whenever I made a turn. It was kind of like my whole body turned before the rest of the minivan did. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it sure felt like it.

I was also a lot higher off the ground than with our car, and Dad warned me how that could lead to a sense of overconfidence. When you look down on everyone else, you tend to think you have a greater margin of safety, but you really don’t, and an accident’s an accident, no matter how far off the ground you are. He also cautioned me about the risks of a higher center of gravity and how that actually increases the chance of a rollover accident.

Well, with the whole family in the car and Dad sitting right next to me, the last thing I was gonna do was to hot-dog it. I was on my best behavior, and being extra cautious. Where the speed limit read fifty-five, I went fifty-five, and not a mile-an-hour more, much to the dismay of the cars behind me.

When we reached Silver Spring, Dad had me pull into a gas station and he took the wheel. As he put it, there was no way I was ready to take on the Washington Beltway, particularly in holiday traffic. Seeing my dad take the tight twists and turns of the beltway at close to seventy miles-an-hour - the speed at which everyone seemed to be going - I was sure glad he was the one driving!

Once we crossed over the American Legion Bridge and turned onto the George Washington Parkway, things were a lot easier, but Dad thought it best that he keep driving, given the heavy traffic. When someone suddenly cut us off trying to get over to their exit, I was glad that he’d insisted.

Before we knew it, we reached our exit, which was the one for the Key Bridge and Georgetown. We, however, were staying on the Virginia side of the Potomac, in Arlington, a block away from the Rosslyn Metro station. Dad deftly pulled the minivan into the hotel, where they had a self-park garage attached. As guests, we could park there for next to nothing and leave our car there for the next two days while we went everywhere we wanted by Metro.

Although we were way too early for check-in, our rooms were ready, so they let us check in early. Sweet! We were on the second floor from the top - the top floor being taken up entirely by a restaurant. How sick was that? Each room had its own balcony with a couple of chairs, and the most spectacular view imaginable. Our rooms were all on the southeast side of the building, with a magnificent view of the entire National Mall, including the Lincoln, Jefferson and Washington monuments, the Reflecting Pool, all the buildings of the Smithsonian Institution, both buildings of the National Gallery of Art, the White House and the U.S. Capitol. The Mall was already filling up with people, and when we came back to our rooms this evening, we’d have a better view than any of them of the fireworks.

Turning to David and putting my arm around his shoulder, I said, “We used to come here all the time to see the fireworks when I was younger, but it’s been a few years since the last time we did. I guess the ’rents figured we’d do it one last time. The nice thing about this hotel is it costs less than half what you’d pay for the ones on the other side of the river, it’s a whole lot easier for us to get to it from where we live in Baltimore and we don’t have to brave the crowds for the best views of the fireworks, bar none. On top of all that, we can spend two whole days sightseeing and avoid the worst of the traffic in and out of Washington in the process,” I added.

“This is so awesome, Danny,” David said. “I just can’t believe your parents are doing this for me. I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, I told him, “It’s hardly costing them anything extra to bring you along, and besides, they love you as much as I do.”

“I wish my parents could accept me the way yours have,” David said as his voice caught in his throat.

My heart went out to him in that moment, and I grabbed him in a tight embrace, kissing him softly on the lips - not with tongue or anything, but just to let him know he was loved.

“Are we going to have to see that the whole time we’re here?” Shimmy asked, a bit more loudly than necessary.

Fortunately, Izzy interceded on our behalf by answering, “Just wait until you have a girlfriend, Shimmy.”

“Who said I want a girl-friend,” Shimmy said with a giggle. All three of our heads swiveled instantly in his direction, at which point he added, “GOTCHA!” with a mischievous grin. “One gay boy in the family’s enough.”

Turning back to David, I said, “My parents have always insisted on us all sticking together, so we don’t get lost, but for fuck’s sake, I’m sixteen now, and we all have cell phones. Shit, if I had to, I could get us all the way home from here by Metro, train and taxi. I know how to take care of myself in an emergency, and I know my way around the tourist sites as well as anyone. I want to show it all to you, but I can’t if I have to stick with the family.”

“That would be great, Danny, but don’t get in trouble on my account,” he said.

“I’m not doing it for you, David,” I explained, “I’m doing it for us.”

“I like the sound of that,” he agreed, and then we kissed again, and this time, we did allow our passion to get the best of us and opened our mouths to each other’s tongues. It was the sound of Izzy clearing his throat to let us know that Dad was in the room that finally brought us back to earth. What could we do but sheepishly smile? We’d been caught, red-handed.

“I just wanted to let you boys know that we’ll be heading out in five minutes,” Dad let us all know.

“Um, Dad?” I started to ask, “I’m sixteen now, and David’s fifteen, and he’s never seen Washington before. I’d like to show him the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument, and the Jefferson Memorial, and the FDR Memorial, and the Vietnam and Korean and World War II Memorials, and get him started seeing the Smithsonian and so on,” I said, all in one breath.

Laughing, Dad said, “Yes, of course you would, Danny. Your mom and I already discussed it, and we figured you two would probably want to strike out on your own. There’s no way the rest of us could keep up with you, especially with such an ambitious agenda.

“You’re old enough to take care of yourselves, but we want to hear from you, every hour, on the hour, just for our peace of mind. Set your cell phone so you don’t forget, Danny. If you don’t call us, we’ll call you, but you might not hear us with all the noise of the crowd, so pay attention to the time. If we have to, we can have the police track you down from your cell phone’s GPS signal, but that would be embarrassing for all concerned, so better still, call us.”

“That’s fair,” I agreed.

“Also, keep in mind that pickpockets will be out in force today,” Dad continued. “What I suggest you do is leave your backpacks behind and keep your wallet and cell phone in a fanny pack, tied to your belt and in front of you. That will make it much harder for someone to reach in and steal things from you, but not impossible. The bottom line is you need to be aware of your surroundings at all times. The pickpockets are more likely to go after the easy targets, so make it hard to steal from you and they’ll be more likely to target an easier mark.”

Smiling at me warmly, Dad concluded by saying, “In two years, you’ll be an adult, Danny. If I don’t start trusting you now, how will you ever learn to take responsibility?” he asked rhetorically. Wow, I’d never thought of what it must be like to be a parent, and to have to let go.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said as I hugged my father. “Thanks for trusting us.”

“Oh, one final thing, guys,” Dad said before he left the room, “you two need to be careful showing affection in public,” to which David and I gave Dad the most pathetic, ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ look imaginable. “Seriously,” he continued, “there are a hell of a lot of people who won’t see your relationship the way Mom and I do, and particularly with the patriotic fervor of the Fourth of July, might take the opportunity to vent their frustrations at a number of things on the two of you. I wouldn’t want to see you become the victims of a gay bashing or anything.”

“We’ll be careful, Dad,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “We’re not stupid.”

“I know, Danny. I’m a parent, and it’s natural for parents to worry too much.” Drawing both of us into a hug, he said, “Have fun, boys. Be sure to be back at the hotel by six. We have a seven o’clock reservation at the restaurant, and then we’ll catch the fireworks after that.

“Oh! And here’s some cash,” he said as he got out his wallet and counted out a hundred forty dollars. “That should be plenty for the two of you.”

David and I each hugged Dad one last time, and then it was just the two of us - and our brothers, but they would be going out with our parents.

“Let’s piss one last time, and then we can head out,” I suggested to my boyfriend. “You might also want to put on some sunscreen, since we’ll be out in the sun much of the day,” I added.

“It’s a fuckin’ shame I didn’t bring my camera down with me from New York,” David lamented, “but I wasn’t expecting to be doing anything besides painting.”

“No prob, lover,” I told him. “You can use mine.”

“Thanks, Danny,” he said with his trademark grin.

“Any place in particular you’d like to start?” I asked as we headed down in the elevator.

Shrugging his shoulders, he suggested, “The White House?”

Laughing out loud, I said, “Yeah, right. On the Fourth of July, the Obamas are going to give us a personal tour of the White House. I’m sure they don’t have anything better to do, so I’ll give old Barak a call on my cell phone to make sure he’s free, and we’ll head on over there right now.”

Poor David was doing everything he could to try to keep a straight face, but he just lost it. “OK, OK . . . maybe that was a lame idea,” he giggled. “All right, Mr. Genius, why don’t you lead the way since you’ve been here before,” he said.

“That’s better,” I agreed. “At least now you’ve acknowledged who’s the boss,” I said with a broad grin.

“And we’ll see who’s the boss when we get back to our room tonight,” he reminded me.

“That would be good and well,” I said, “except that Izzy and Shimmy are sharing the room with us.”

“And that’s a problem because? . . .” David asked.

“Oooh . . . that’s just plain nasty,” I said. “I am not having sex in the same room as my brothers.”

“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” David giggled as we closed in on the Rosslyn Metro station.

I purchased a farecard for each of us and explained to him that unlike with the New York subway, fares are charged by the distance traveled, so you have to insert your farecard both on entering and on leaving each station. “They also charge more during rush hour,” I explained.

“Man, that totally sucks,” David protested. “New Yorkers complain about each fare increase, but for a buck-ten off-peak, a student can ride anywhere in New York by subway or regular bus. And you can buy daily, weekly and monthly unlimited passes for a flat rate, too. The monthly student pass is, like, only a buck-fifty a day when you think about it. Man, I’m spoiled.”

“There’s no place like New York,” I agreed, “but driving in New York is suicide.”

“True that,” he concurred. David was so cute! God, I loved him.

“Put your farecard away for later, ’cause we’re gonna walk for now,” I told my boyfriend, and he arched his eyebrows. “We’re right next to Arlington National Cemetery, which is as good a place to start as any, and there’s no point in taking the Metro when we’re already here. I just thought we should buy the farecards now so we wouldn’t need to stand in line later, when we’re in more of a hurry.”

“Good thinking, Danny,” David agreed.

“The only problem with walking around this part of Arlington,” I noted as we attempted to cross Wilson Boulevard, “is the traffic and the lack of good pedestrian walkways. Yes, they have skyways, but they’re designed for the office workers . . . not the tourists.”

Following Fort Meyer Boulevard, which ran into North Meade Street, we managed to follow an incredibly convoluted maze of roadways until we finally found our way to the Iwo Jima Memorial and the start of Arlington Cemetery. It was a good thing I’d been here before and had a good idea of where I was going, or I could easily have gotten lost. With a little perseverance and my generally good sense of direction, I had little difficulty finding my way to Arlington House, from which we were able to obtain a map that allowed us to locate John F. Kennedy’s gravesite and memorial, the Challenger Astronauts’ memorial, the tombs of the unknowns, and Lady Byrd Johnson Park.

The views of Washington from Arlington Cemetery were phenomenal. At one point, David slipped his hand into mine. He couldn’t help it, and I didn’t stop him. He was in heaven, and so was I.

After walking our asses off in the cemetery, we walked across the Potomac via the Arlington Memorial Bridge to find ourselves looking at the backside of the Lincoln Memorial. Of course I’d seen the Lincoln Memorial many, many times, but this was the first time David had seen it. I could tell by the look on his face that he was in awe of it. The sheer size of the structure is enormous, and then to see America’s sixteenth president so ‘larger than life’ like that can’t help but inspire you, no matter what you might think of the man. The Fourth of July wasn’t the best time to see the memorial, as there was a stage set up in front of it for the day’s activities, but even then, the statue of Lincoln is so large that one couldn’t help but be struck by its sheer size.

Yeah, I saw that look in his face, and then he began to speak. “Imagine how different the world might be today if he’d lived, Danny,” he said. “He took a hodge-podge alliance of independent states and made it a truly unified nation. The Civil War was a horribly bloody conflict that pitted entire families against themselves, but he made America, kicking and screaming, into a beacon of hope that would shine brightly for centuries to come. It was that beacon of hope that brought our ancestors here,” David said.

“Maybe he wasn’t entirely enamored of civil rights, but he single-handedly ended slavery on this continent, and had he lived, he’d have undoubtedly dismantled the last vestiges of what went on to become the core of Jim Crowe in the South. Things like forced school segregation, lynchings and the like might have never happened had Lincoln been able to complete his second term as president. Perhaps even women’s suffrage would have happened sooner. This could be a very different world.”

“Yes, there are many things we’ll never know,” I agreed, “but it was because of the hard-fought battle for civil rights that Martin Luther King became the great leader that he did, and it took his leadership to pave the way for Barak Obama to become president.”

“Of course you’re right, Danny,” David agreed, “but it’s always fun to speculate.”

Turning around to look back at the Reflecting Pool, the Washington Monument, the Capitol, and the gathering crowds that were filling the National Mall, David said, “I think the Vietnam Memorial’s supposed to be somewhere around here.”

“Yes, it’s right over to the left,” I said, pointing in the general direction. Unfortunately, the wall was crawling with people, perhaps ten layers deep, so getting anywhere near it was gonna be an exercise in futility today.

“I had a great uncle who was killed in Vietnam,” David said. “That war was such a tragedy. War in general is a tragedy, but Vietnam was such a waste.”

After seeing the Constitution Gardens and the World War II Memorial, we stopped for a quick bite at one of the many vendors set up around the Washington Monument. Although neither David nor I were particularly paying attention to whether or not the food was kosher, we ended up each getting a couple of Hebrew National kosher hotdogs. How ironic.

It was already afternoon, and there weren’t many options left that would let us get back to the hotel by six. Noting that the National Holocaust Museum was, literally, right in front of us - a place I had yet to visit in all my trips to Washington - I asked David if he’d like to go there.

“Of course I’d like to go there,” he answered me. “It’s important that everyone see it.”

I think we were both surprised, and disappointed, to find that even with the huge crowds outside milling about the Mall, there weren’t all that many people inside the museum. I guess not too many people wanted to be reminded of something as somber as the Holocaust on a joyous day like the Fourth of July. Before we went inside, I called Dad and let him know it might take us some time to get through the museum, and that I’d call him when we came out.

The museum was absolutely incredible. We each had the opportunity to ‘become’ someone for the day - a real person who died in Hitler’s Europe. Ordinarily, I’d have chosen the identity of a Jewish teenager, but noting that one of the available identities was that of a young, gay Jewish man, that’s what I chose to be instead. I felt that I had to - it was a double strike against me, but it was the harsh reality of the times. David wasn’t quite so brave, but then I couldn’t blame him, given his Hasidic background. He chose the identity of a teenager from the same town in Hungary as my character.

It was very interesting, and much more real than I expected it to be, as we went through the events that led up to World War II as they unfolded. I really hadn’t realized how gradually life had changed in Eastern Europe, year by year, through the years between the two world wars as the economic depression took hold and Hitler rose to power. The loss of freedoms was so gradual as to be insidious. Most people didn’t even realize what was happening, but they were willing to do just about anything to restore some sort of stability to their lives as unemployment rose to unprecedented levels.

The Jews, the disabled, gays and foreigners made excellent scapegoats. The Jews of course received the brunt of Hitler’s wrath, because they were an integral part of German society, and there were so many prominent, successful Jews in pre-war Germany, just as there are today in the U.S. Taking the Jews down did nothing to alleviate the suffering of the German people, nor that of the people who collaborated in the countries they invaded, but there was something satisfying in seeing the once-mighty fall. It’s not clear if the general populace was aware of the extent of the Holocaust, although most scholars believe most were, but to actually live it from the inside was pure Hell.

Progressing through the museum, David and I got to sample just a taste of that Hell without enduring it ourselves. Through seeing samples of our subjects’ clothing, writing and other artifacts, we came face-to-face with the lives they experienced in their final days. I was sixteen, and David was nearly so. We thought of ourselves as being nearly adults, and yet going through the Holocaust Museum made us feel terribly inadequate. The experience was humbling.

When we finished the museum, it was already four o’clock, just, and that left very little time for anything else. “We could see the Jefferson Memorial and the FDR Memorial, and then hightail it back across to the cemetery to catch the Metro back to our hotel, or we could catch the Metro at the Smithsonian station right now if you want to head back to our hotel a little early,” I said suggestively.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Danny,” David said, “but after spending the afternoon in the Holocaust Museum, I think a long walk would do me some good, and I don’t much feel like making out right now, if you know what I mean.”

“Good,” I said, “’cause I pretty much feel the same way.”

From the museum, we started walking around the Tidal Basin, stopping first at the Jefferson Memorial to admire the statue of the author of the Declaration of Independence and our third president. We then continued on around to see the FDR Memorial, which really blew me away. This was my first time seeing it, and it was awesome. There were several statues of FDR, and one of him was even with him in a wheelchair.

“We tend to forget that he was our first president with a disability,” I said when I saw that. “They should teach us more about that in school,” I said.

“Definitely,” David agreed. “I wonder how long it’ll be before we have a gay president,” he went on to say.

“Ha! Not in our lifetimes,” I said.

“Prolly not,” David agreed with obvious sadness in his voice.

Descending the escalator into the bowels of the Metro station at Arlington Cemetery, David said, “Wow, this is so sleek and modern. What a contrast to the New York subways.”

“Yeah, but all the stations here look exactly alike,” I countered, “and there aren’t any musicians allowed or anything. The New York subway has more character,” I pointed out.

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” David agreed.

We only went one stop, and got off at Rosslyn. We could have walked it, but we barely made it by six o’clock as it was. Taking turns using the shower with Izzy and Shimmy, who talked non-stop about the fun they’d had seeing the newly-reopened Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, we all got ready for dinner.

Ordinarily when we travel, we try to stick to kosher restaurants, but tonight it would easier to just eat in the hotel, since we wanted to catch the fireworks immediately after dinner. In situations such as this, we tended to stick to eating fish - not seafood, which is an abomination; fish without scales are forever unclean - but fish is inherently kosher. The only problem is that the tableware is seldom kosher, but we generally would overlook that fact for expediency when we travel.

There was actually a very nice dinner buffet available which I might have considered for myself, had I known what my boyfriend was about to do, but none of the items were remotely kosher, so I had scoped out the salmon fillet from the menu and was planning to order it, with a side salad. Mom had already ordered the grilled snapper and Sarah had ordered the fillet of sole.

So long as I live, I will never forget the looks on the faces of all my family members when the waiter came to David for his order and he said, “I’ll have the New England clam chowder to start, and for my main course I’d like the bacon-wrapped scallops with béarnaise sauce.” None of those items is even remotely kosher.

The waiter then asked, “Would you like that with rice pilaf, or with our signature twice-baked potato with bacon and cheddar cheese?”

“Definitely the potato,” David answered.

I don’t think there was a closed mouth around the table after he said that. I really had my heart set on the salmon, but the thought of eating something so wickedly decadent as what David was having definitely had its appeal.

After the shock had finally worn off and everyone started placing their orders, the waiter finally got to me, and I was still torn about what I should do. David opened up a new way of thinking of food to me, and I suddenly felt like being adventurous, but not in front of my parents. It’s one thing to rebel, but to do so openly in front of those you love is a whole other matter.

It was Dad, sensing my turmoil, who broke my internal deadlock for me. “Danny,” he said, “you should order what you want . . . not what you think we want you to order. We won’t think any less of you for breaking with our traditions. After all, I expect you’re going to do so after you leave home anyway.” How did he know?

Turning to the waiter, I said, “I’ll have what my boyfriend’s having.” God, did I really say that? Instead of making a big deal about it, however, the waiter smiled at me, and winked. Maybe he was one of us.

I know my family was a little grossed out by what David and I were eating, and although I could have done without the smoky taste of the bacon, I never tasted anything more heavenly than the scallops. They were fucking awesome.

Back at our room, we all stripped down to our shorts, and David and I let Izzy and Shimmy have the chairs on the balcony while we stood, arm-in-arm to watch the show that was about to begin. We had an absolutely perfect view of the National Mall from where we stood. Once the fireworks started, there was a continuous barrage of light and color that went on and on for nearly an hour without letup. It was an amazing feast for the eyes.

When it was finally over, David turned to me and said, “That was incredible. Absolutely incredible. That even beat the show they have over the East River back home, and that’s saying a lot. Please thank your parents again for bringing me here.”

“I’m just glad I was able to share it with you, David,” I said, and then I gave him a peck on the lips, and then another. Before long we had our arms around each other and were making out like no-one’s business.

“They’re at it again,” I heard Shimmy sigh.

“Yeah, but it’s pretty cool, the way they love each other,” Izzy said, which made me feel warm inside.

Extracting my tongue from my lover’s mouth, I said, “Let’s get to bed, babe, so we can get an early start tomorrow.”

“I wonder if this hotel has a game room,” David suddenly asked.

“Yeah, it does. We passed it on the way out of here this morning, but why on earth are you bringing it up now?” I asked.

“C’mon, Shimmy,” Izzy said, apparently catching David’s intent right away, “it’s too early for bed, so lets hit the arcade for a while, or maybe we could go for a swim,” he said as he rummaged through his luggage and got out his swim trunks.”

“Oh, OK, a swim and the arcade would be cool,” Shimmy agreed as he got out his own swim trunks and changed into them.

Izzy grabbed his wallet and cell phone, and both my brothers departed, just like that.

“Alone at last,” David said with a wicked grin on his face.

“How the fuck did you just do that?” I asked incredulously.

“I just don’t think they wanted to see this,” my boyfriend said as I felt my shorts and boxers slide to the floor. When the hell did he manage to unbuckle my belt? “Make love to me, Danny,” he continued. “I want you to make love to me, all the way.”

Raising my eyebrows, I said, “But I didn’t bring anything.”

“But I did, Danny,” he countered as he wiggled his eyebrows. He then went to his luggage and got out a pack of condoms and a tube of lubricant. “I just love you so much, Danny,” he continued, “so much sometimes that I can’t stand it.”

This was something new to both of us, and I could tell by the look of apprehension on David’s face that he was as nervous as I was. “Are you sure you want to do this, David?” I asked.

“No, I’m not sure,” he answered earnestly. “I’m afraid it will hurt like hell, but I’m so excited at the prospect of feeling you inside of me, if we don’t do it tonight, I’ll kick myself. I want it, Danny. I want you. I’ve been wanting you. With playing musical bedrooms when we get back, who knows when we’ll get the chance back home? Don’t you want to?” he asked.

“More than anything,” I answered, “and I’d like to feel you inside of me, too, and there’s no reason we can’t try it both ways. I just want to be a part of you in the most intimate way possible.”

With both of us naked and under the sheets, we resumed our making out, exploring, fondling, kissing, licking, sucking, and nibbling on each other in every way possible. I don’t know if it was because David had been preparing himself, or because I took my time to really loosen him up, but with all of the horror stories I’d read on the internet about searing pain from anal penetration, I think we were both genuinely surprised, and delighted when my dick slid right in.

“Are you sure it’s in all the way?” David asked.

“Sure I’m sure,” I told him.

“Well, I guess yours is kinda small,” he said.

“What do you mean, ‘kinda small’?” I asked incredulously. “It’s at least as large as yours.”

“No way!” he chided me with a fake smile that let me know he was teasing me. “Seriously, though, I was expecting it to hurt a lot, and I hardly felt any pain at all. In fact, it feels pretty damn good.”

“Lets see if I can make it feel even better,” I said as I gave him a peck on the lips, and then withdrew nearly all the way, and slowly pushed my condom-clad cock back in all the way.

“Oh God! No need to be so gentle, Danny,” he said with encouragement. “The feeling when you hit my prostate is un-fucking-believable. Try thrusting a little harder next time.”

Well of course I did, which caused him to actually moan, and the next thrust made him moan even loader. I was beginning to worry that my sisters next door might hear us, so I covered his mouth with mine and kissed him deeply as I sped up my thrusts.

I had hoped we might both get a chance to take turns at this, but I guess we spent more time than I had thought, as my brothers returned not long after David and I had finished our first round of lovemaking. In fact, we were still entwined in each other’s arms, slick with David’s cum, which was copiously smeared between our bodies. My member had barely softened and slipped out of David, and the condom was even still in place. We were talking about the incredibly good feelings we had just shared when the room was suddenly flooded with a shaft of bright light from the hallway.

“Shhh,” I heard Izzy say. “I think maybe they’ve gone to sleep.”

“They sure had more than enough time,” Shimmy said. “Of course they went to sleep.”

“Actually, we just finished up,” I called out to my brothers.

“Oooh, TMI,” Izzy acknowledged.

“Geez, it stinks in here,” Shimmy shouted as the smell of our lovemaking suddenly assaulted his nostrils. “How the fuck are we supposed to get to sleep with it smelling like a brothel in here.”

“How do you know what a brothel smells like, bro?” I kidded Shimmy. “I didn’t even know you knew what the word meant.”

“Fuck you, Danny, but seriously, it smells like sex in here.”

“And you would know this how?” I asked again.

“It’s all those late-night jerk-off sessions, I would guess,” David answered for him as he sat up in our bed and turned on the light. When he did so, the still-wet cum could be seen to glisten on his chest.

“I sooo did not need to see that, guys,” Izzy said as he practically stared at David’s chest. When he continued to just stare, and noticed that we were, in turn, staring at him, he just shrugged his bare shoulders and said, “Well, I’m not gay or anything, but it’s kind of hot, you know? . . . I’ll be right back.” And with that, Izzy disappeared behind a closed bathroom door.

Yeah, I did know. The sight of David’s cum-slick chest was turning me on to no end, but then I had reason to be turned on. David was my boyfriend, after all.

“I’m not sure I want to know what he’s up to,” Shimmy laughed. “I just gotta get me a girlfriend,” he added.

“I’m just glad I got a boyfriend,” I said.

“And don’t we all know it,” Shimmy said with a smile - the first time he’d really acknowledged my relationship in a positive manner. I liked that he did.

Just then, Izzy emerged from the bathroom and said, “Much better.”

“Shimmy,” I asked, “you need to use the bathroom before David and I shower?”

“Nah, you guys go ahead,” he said.

David and I had been taking showers together the entire time we’d been painting the house - so much so that we had the whole thing down to a science now. We knew exactly how to get each other clean in the most efficient way possible, and how to give each other the most pleasure and get each other off without wasting any more water than necessary. In a household where we shared hot water with eight other people, that was an absolute necessity.

Even though we’d both cum just moments before, we managed to do it again. We were all smiles by the time we turned out the lights that night. All around, it had been an incredible day, and an incredible evening.

July 5 was another great day of sightseeing for David and me on the National Mall. After showing him all the different museums that lined the mall, we ended up spending nearly the entire day at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. It had been years since I’d been there, and everything was new to David. Someday, we’d definitely have to make it a point to come back for a weekend, or maybe even an entire week to see the rest.

Heading home was pretty anticlimactic, but once we exited the Capital Beltway, Dad let me take the wheel again and I got to drive the whole rest of the way home, on U.S. 29, Interstate 70 and even the Baltimore Beltway, and in our neighborhood, right up to our own house.

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