One Moonlit Night - 24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-four

Scotty was kept very busy with performances that summer. I worked as much as I could to save up money for our trip. We had a great time at Shanty By the Sea for our anniversary, though celebrated late. The days and weeks seemed to sail by and before I knew it, our time to leave for Sydney, Australia arrived.

The night before we were to catch our flight to Australia, Scotty was going over his detailed list of things we needed to take with us. After going over the list, for the third time, he was satisfied we had everything. I expected a by-the-door final rundown too—but that was my Scotty.

I had asked Billy and Michelle—who had become and item—along with Phillip Jr. and Sr., Aunt Liz, Uncle Vince and Chris, and Uncle Dom, to keep an eye on my mother and call if anything came up. Scotty teased me saying, “Have you alerted and enlisted the National Guard and the Governor too?”

I had been away from my mother for extended periods before, but I was never that far. Traveling to Australia was, to me, a world away. So, yeah, I covered all the bases.

“Listen, Mr. List Maker,” I responded, “I’d only do that if I were leaving you behind.”

I think both of our parents were a little wary about Scotty and me taking this trip. Before, Aunt Liz, or Junior if she couldn’t go, had to accompany Scotty on trips as he was underage. Now both of us, at eighteen, would be taking a trip half way around the world without a parent. They were nervous about us; I was concerned about my mom.

As we strolled to the boarding gate, I for the thousandth time reminded my mom I’d call her as soon as we got to the hotel. I also reminded her that I left all the information on the refrigerator: hotel phone number, our flight schedule, and Scotty’s performance time. After an extended hug she smiled and told us to have a good time and both parents said to be careful and the typical ‘stay out of trouble and be good.’ Yeah, like we were real rabble-rousers.

Though I had flown before, this was the first time I had ever flown first-class. Another deal my haggling boyfriend obtained for a last minute engagement. For me it was quite an experience: for Scotty it was old hat. I was excited and it showed. I had to lay the extra large seat back to the lowest position and ride it up again—several times. I played at positioning my own TV monitor for optimum clarity and fiddled with the dials. I marveled at all the legroom and the spaciousness of the first class-cabin. I had to look at all the goodies in the etui Qantas provided its first-class passengers, remarking to Scotty after viewing its contents that we could have left my shaving kit at home. The only disappointment, and I don’t know what I expected, was the restroom didn’t seem any larger than those in economy class. Scotty, watching my antics, shrugged his shoulders in a what-are-ya’-gonna’-do, as the amused flight crew looked on.

Only four of the other seats were taken in first class out of the ten available. We had four flight attendants to take care of our needs. One was male and he obviously was ‘family.’ He was a real character and Scotty and I didn’t hide that we were a couple. In fact, we had decided to wear our rings. He fawned over us and made sure we got anything we wanted, though Scotty and I were not demanding.

I was taken by surprise while I was perusing the in-flight magazine. I let out a perceptible, okay it was more than perceptible, more like a loud, “Oh my God, Scotty look at this!” There in living color with the famous Sydney Opera House in the background, was a picture of my cute boyfriend with a brief article stating that he was one of the featured artists at the Sydney Symphony for their summer program. Now seeing Scotty’s picture in the newspaper wasn’t new to me, and I think I had a clipping of every single one in my scrapbook. I wasn’t prepared for running across him in that glossy publication. Graham, the flight attendant, came rushing to our seats and asked if something was wrong. Speechless, I just pointed at the article. Once it was known a celebrity was on board, our flight attendants asked if they could pose for pictures, though probably none had ever attended a symphony in their lives. Scotty, gracious as always, happily posed with them. Graham wanted one of Scotty, him and me. Again, Scotty complied with his wish. Graham said he thought Scotty looked familiar, as he had attended symphonies in the past: never one in which Scotty had performed, but did mention he did have one of his CD’s. This led him to tell Scotty how beautifully he played and paying him many other compliments. He was disappointed when he realized he would be 35,000 feet in the air when Scotty performed in Sydney. Scotty asked him which CD he had. After he told him, Scotty asked for his address and said he’d send him his two other CD’s for being such a wonderful steward. Graham was all atwitter.

Once all the excitement wore off and we had our first in-flight meal, which was surprisingly quite good and beautifully served, I settled in and started watching a movie. Scotty, as usual fell into dreamland. When I finally did decide to sleep, I had a difficult time doing so. Lying next to me was the cutest guy, and I couldn’t cuddle with him. I could never recall a time when we slept together that we didn’t cuddle. I tossed and turned for a while and then draped my arm over the arm of the seat in order to touch him. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was comforting to feel him. With the ever-audible drone of the jet’s engines, I eventually fell asleep.

The non-stop flight took almost twenty hours. Graham, our steward, asked where we would be staying as he had a two-day layover in Sydney and said if we would like to see some of the more interesting sites, he’d be happy to be our personal tour guide. Since Scotty and I were going to be there ten days, we thought it would be nice to be shown around to places that weren’t necessarily on the ‘to see’ list. We agreed to call him at his hotel the next day after Scotty and I settled in our hotel and he checked in with the Symphony’s manager, to make sure the schedule of rehearsals hadn’t been changed.

Upon our arrival at Sydney International Airport we cleared customs with no problems and were met at the arrival gate by a rather tall imposing suit-clad young man, named Farris Lindell, who informed us he would be escorting us to the hotel and would accompany us during our stay. As we were walking down the concourse, I noticed a slight bulge on the hip of our escort. I had seen Uncle Phil many times in a suit and was pretty sure I knew what that bulge indicated. I tugged Scotty’s arm bringing him to a halt. “Scotty,” I whispered, “that guy’s carrying a gun.” Making sure I shielded Scotty I asked, “Uh, Mr. Lindell, would you show us some identification?”

With a wry smile he said, “Certainly, Mr. Cocchetti,” as he proffered his ID badge. I examined it and thanked him. We then continued our way to the baggage claim area. Scotty then informed me that usually whenever he played in a foreign country he had an escort. He explained that kooks made threats all the time. Kidnapping was also a concern. A foreign country would not want to be embarrassed by having one of their distinguished visitors harmed, hence the armed escort. “You never told me that,” I stated with some alarm.

“To be honest Bash, I never really thought about it. These guys are so unobtrusive; you barely know they’re around. Besides, had you known you would have become a nervous wreck,” he said with a slight smile while reaching over and lovingly rubbing my back.

“Will he follow us everywhere? I mean, just how unobtrusive will he be?”

“Yes, he will go with us everywhere, but he won’t be in our room, if that’s what you mean,” Scotty replied.

“Well, what about the interesting places Graham intends to take us,” I quizzed. “Uh, will that be a problem?”

“Bash, his job is to see that I’m, I mean we, are safe. We will discuss with him some of the things we intend to do. If he has any concerns he will let us know. I’m sure I’m not the first gay guy he’s had to baby-sit. This reminds me, Mr. Lindell, we plan to meet with one of the flight attendants that were on our flight here. His name is Graham Laury. He’s going to show us around a little tomorrow.”

“Thank you Mr. Tucker, I’ll have him checked out. Oh, and you may call me Farris or Fair, unless you’re uncomfortable with that,” he said.

“No, problem at all, Fair,” Scotty smilingly replied.

Our baggage was picked up, and then we were taken via a touring sedan to our hotel, the Sydney Harbour Marriot. We were shown to a beautiful suite with a sitting room and, to my surprise, a Jacuzzi. I immediately called my mom to let her know we arrived safely. I also told her about the bodyguard that would be with us during our stay. So she wouldn’t worry as I could sense she was wondering exactly why we would need a bodyguard, I explained it was normal protocol when celebrities were visiting Australia. I didn’t go into the kidnapping and threats. There was no need to have her needlessly worrying about that. She again said she hoped we had a nice time and was looking forward to hearing all about our trip, and ended with her usual admonishments for us to behave and mind our manners. What is it with parents? Do they think once we are out of their sight we become instant barbarians?

After Scotty called his parents, we unpacked and he put everything away neatly. Settled in we then had an early dinner on the balcony of our room as we took in the beautiful view of the surroundings. Though Scotty had slept most of the flight, he said he was tired. After taking a shower, we did feel a little more rejuvenated. Scotty took my hand pulled me into the king size bed saying lustily, “God, I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for hours.” I do believe he and I covered almost every square inch of our bodies orally and manually. Exhausted and sated, my flaccid penis slipped out of his cute butt. “Wanna’ take a quick shower and soak in the Jacuzzi?” I asked.

“Sounds good to me you hot hunk you. Though I may be tempted to ravage your body—again,” he said arching his eyebrow.

“Why Mr. Tuckah, what evah do you mean?” I said in my best Scarlett O’Hara affectation, as he pulled me toward the shower: I feigning resistance.

The next day Scotty called Stuart Challender, the Symphony conductor, to arrange a meeting and have dinner. He also wanted to see if any of the scheduling for rehearsals had changed and to schedule a tour of the venue at which he’d be performing and to try the piano. I knew a lot of Scotty’s night hours would be spent wining and dining with people related to the Symphony. I was included for most of these activities. It was arranged beforehand that I was Scotty’s assistant so as not to raise eyebrows—though Scotty explained within those circles, people didn’t concern themselves with such things, unless someone’s behavior could cause embarrassment to the orchestra. The details taken care of, we then called Graham and arranged to meet with him for breakfast and then head to one of the popular beaches.

When Fair met us in the lobby he was wearing a suit and Scotty said to him, “Uh, Fair, you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb and be as uncomfortable as hell, in those clothes,” as he told him of our intended destination. “I don’t know what you’re allowed to wear, but if you’re trying to draw attention to me, that attire will surely do it.” He then apologized for not informing him of our destination other than breakfast.

Fair grinned, took the added news good naturedly, and asked if we could give him a few minutes and he would go change into attire that would be more suitable. Returning to the hotel lobby, he was dressed in a Hawaiian-style shirt, beige slacks and deck shoes. Scotty whispered to me that he was disappointed as he was hoping he’d be wearing a Speedo. I remarked that it would be difficult to hide a .45 magnum in a Speedo. We both chuckled as Fair looked at us trying to figure out why we were chortling.

Graham met us at the restaurant that was decided on before hand. As we were excitedly jabbering away, Graham leaned over the table and told us in a quiet voice that one of us had an admirer. “There’s some gorgeous hunk sitting at that table right over there,” he subtly gestured pointing with his index finger. “He keeps looking over at you two,” he added.

Scotty casually turned his head and then let out a soft giggle, “Oh, that’s Fair, our escort. He won’t bother us so just pretend he’s not here.”

“Ignore a piece of man-flesh like that? That will be difficult to do,” Graham stated. Noticing Fair looking our way again, Graham gave him smile and a friendly wave. Fair smiled and waved back, then continued to sip his orange juice and nosh on a pastry.

“Why don’t you ask him to join us,” I asked Scotty, giving him a gentle nudge with my elbow and nodded toward the interested Graham who was still eying Fair.

“He can’t. He has to be in a position to look around. That’s why he will rarely be too close: but close enough,” Scotty explained. “However, that doesn’t preclude Graham from talking to him at some point,” he added.

Finishing our breakfast we headed toward the marina to board a boat that Graham had secured from a friend, and we made our way over to Manly Beach. Looking back over the expanse of water we had crossed we had a fantastic view of Sydney Harbor. Manly Beach was a popular gay men’s destination. I truly believe a gay man was in charge of personnel, as all the lifeguards were hot looking: all wore Speedos and were bronzed by the sun.

After Scotty and I slathered ourselves with sunscreen, we kicked back on our blanket and ogled all the Speedo clad young guys. We started rating the beach populace on a scale from one to ten. We discovered that Graham had a propensity for the more hunky men—body builders. Scotty tended to like the more muscular also, but drew the line at the Mr. Atlas type. I naturally thought the smaller, nicely built, but slender guys were the hottest. However, there was no one cuter than my own red Speedo-clad Scotty. Several times I had to roll onto my stomach to hide the obvious stimulation I received from looking at him. It was fun and relaxing to lie on the almost pure white sand taking in the sights. Occasionally people would stop by and say hello and ask us where were from. It was obvious from our paleness we were not natives. We found during most of our stay in Sydney that the people were very cordial and friendly. It was a wonderful afternoon. We would frolic in the ocean for a bit then go back to the blanket and engage in inane banter—mostly about the cute guys. We were very considerate of Fair and always told him if we were going to go jump in the water or take a walk. He later told us that often the people he was responsible to protect would see if they could get away without him observing. He appreciated us not playing that game.

In discussing that night’s itinerary Graham told Fair that he would be taking us to a local disco. If Fair was bothered by our destination, he certainly gave no indication. Saying our good-byes to Graham we reiterated that we were looking forward to seeing him at dinner and to the night’s activities.

After returning to our room and taking a shower to rid our bodies of the fine white sand, Scotty said he was feeling the effects of the sun and the gamboling along the surf so suggested we take a nap before dinner. With just the brief time we were on the beach, Scotty had the beginnings of a noticeable tan line. I loved the milky white appearance of his cute little butt outlined by what would become a golden tan. Taking in the beauty of that smooth little butt, along with the Speedo memories of him from the beach had me very aroused. As I gently kneaded his cute butt cheeks he turned to me and smiled. We began with sensuous kissing which led to my teasing his body with my tongue as I made my way to the destination of my arousal. We concluded our love making with an awesome sixty-nine. Once again sexually sated, we snuggled together, taking a much needed nap.

Scotty or I had never been to a bar before—let a lone a gay one. We were very excited as we dressed, not really knowing what to expect. We learned that the legal drinking age was eighteen when Graham first mentioned the idea of going to The Boys Downunder Disco. We joked about the double entendre of the name as we did some final primping while standing in front of the mirror.

Fair knocked at our door to let us know that our car would be arriving shortly and said he’d like to go over some logistics for the evening. An attractive female who was introduced to us as Jaquelyn Darcey accompanied him. She also was assigned to Scotty’s detail when necessary. She asked us to please call her Jackie. They both realized that for us, this was a new experience and in no way wanted to interfere with us having a good time. However, they did ask our cooperation in trying to stay within their view. We asked about how we would deal with dancing and they smiled and said they would join us on the dance floor. “Oh,” Scotty said teasingly, “so I can ask you to dance, Fair?”

Without missing a beat he responded, “Only if I get to lead.”

We all had a laugh at his quick rejoinder and then proceeded to meet our car and go pick up Graham. Scotty did tell Fair and Jackie that he didn’t think they’d have a lot to be worried about as few people, especially younger people, would recognize him. “Yeah, but I’ll probably have to beat everyone off with a stick ‘cause you’re so cute,” I said. “In that case, I’ll need Fair and Jackie’s help.”

Jackie, not to be fear inducing, stated, “It’s not the ones that don’t know who you are that concern me or Fair.”

It was early evening by the time we finished dinner and arrived at The Boys Downunder Disco. At that time it wasn’t very crowded, but Graham said the place would fill up within an hour or so. It had a long main bar on the first floor: one that would require at least four bartenders to service. There were tables and booths along the three remaining walls that were also on the periphery of the dance floor. The dance floor had two mirrored balls suspended over it, along with a strobe light. The dance floor itself was a step up and was covered with opaque visoline tiles with multi-colored lights that flashed from underneath. An area upstairs contained a pool table, more seating, a service bar, and a section that jutted out over a portion of the first floor that was used to gaze down at the activity of the first floor. Graham said it was referred to as the crow’s nest, and was a favorite cruising lookout. Graham informed us since we arrived before the main crowd they had a piano bar that was popular, especially for those who found the later music a little raucous for their taste. He was a friend of the piano player and wanted to introduce us. He said perhaps if we wanted to go to other places of interest when he was gone, his friend would be happy to act as our escort. We heard the music from the piano emanating from another room off the main one. We decided to go listen until the bar became a little more active. There were several seats around the piano unoccupied so we wandered over and took seats. Fair and Jackie found a table nearby so they could keep an eye on us. The piano player greeted us with a smile and quickly waved to Graham, mouthing a hello. When he completed the number he had been playing, he introduced himself to us as Jerry and told Graham it was nice to see him again and asked how long he would be in town. After they caught up on their news, he then inquired as to where we were from. He asked if we had any requests and Scotty said he’d like to hear him play something he personally enjoyed playing. Jerry smiled and began to play Malagueña. It was obvious to those of us listening that Jerry found this song moving. His playing reminded me very much of Scotty as he was physically at the piano however, his heart was in Spain. There was a polite round of applause from those listening. When Jerry finished the piece Scotty told him it was very beautiful, and one of the best performances of Malagueña he had heard. Jerry said he was surprised someone as young as Scotty would know about, let alone enjoy that particular piece. No sooner than the words were out of his mouth, his jaw dropped and he stuttered, “Oh, my sweet lord, you’re, you’re Scott Tucker. Oh, my God, I can’t believe this! I’ve got tickets to see you perform this weekend. Graham Laury, I’m going to…well, you are just the sneakiest…Why didn’t you tell me who your guest was going to be? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I’ll get you for this,” he mockingly threatened.

Scotty smiled and put his index finger to his lips and said quietly, “Ssh, I want to have a good time tonight. This is my first time in a bar: a gay bar at that. I just want to blend in and have fun with my boyfriend,” as he put an arm around me and pulled me in for a quick peck.

Jerry said that he understood and then remarked we certainly made a very cute couple and hoped we had fun. We sat there for another forty-five minutes and talked with Jerry. When the bar started to fill up we bade good-bye to Jerry and Scotty told him to make sure he came backstage to the Green Room after the concert to say hello. He said he would leave word that Jerry Blackston would be coming to visit. Jerry was beside himself with glee. We then made our way to the main room and settled into a booth. Jackie sat with us and Fair went and sat at the bar. Fair spent a good portion of his time fending off admirers. We, even Jackie, found it quite amusing. “We should be spanked for our lack of sympathy for him,” Scotty laughed.

Scotty and I were not drinkers so made do with sipping a concoction called a Shirley Temple. We had a great time as we danced with Graham and Jackie. Fair was a great sport and even danced a few numbers with us. Jerry, when he finished his stint, joined us for a few dances. For me and Scotty it was much like a rite of passage. We were on our own, well sort of, after all, Fair and Jackie weren’t our chaperons. A little after midnight, Scotty said he was getting tired. He also explained he had an interview to attend at 10:30 in the morning. We thanked everyone for the good time and Scotty again reminded Jerry to come see him after his performance. After dropping Graham at his hotel, we again thanked him for taking the time to show us around and made sure to tell him we had a wonderful time. We said we hoped to see him again, perhaps on our return flight, and if he ever had any sort of layover in the States to give us a call and perhaps we could return the favor.

Sweaty from that night’s dancing, Scotty and I took a quick shower and climbed into bed. We chatted a little about that night’s experience and the fun we had, expressed our love of one another, and then he snuggle into my body. Content as I held him, we visited dreamland.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Scotty was involved in a few promo interviews for the Symphony and rehearsals had begun. On our first visit to the Sydney Opera House, the concertmaster met us and was going to show us around. But before he could he got a phone call, so excused himself and while he was occupied, Scotty and I meandered out onto the stage. A none to friendly voice greeted us, “Get your arses of my stage!”

“What?” Scotty said.

“Are you deaf? I said get your arses off my stage. This isn’t a playground for you youngsters,” he said as he came angrily toward us.

“Uh, I’m Scott Tuck…”

“I don’t care if your name is Prime Minister Bob Hawke,” he retorted. “Now get off my stage.”

“Well, sir, I will let you explain to Maestro Challender that I was barred from being on ‘your’ stage. I’m sure he’ll understand your explanation and why I returned to the United States,” Scotty said in a no-nonsense tone, as he turned and headed off the stage.

“Come on Bash, let’s go.”