A little more than a week ago, I posted the opening of my novella. Quite a few folks asked if I would post more. And, some asked for a longer snippet (size matters! LOL) So, picking up where I left off.... (Blue is to give you a lead-in.)
“Oh, he’s dead alright,” Blue Jeans said
in response to my question, as he pulled a COVID mask up over his mouth and nose.
“Did you know him?”
“Uh, in a way,” my muffled response went.
I tried to control the lump in my throat, and begged the tears not to flow. “I mean,
we were neighbors and all, you know.”
“Sure.”
“I haven’t seen anything suspicious over
here, though.”
“Well, that would make sense. See, he
bought the farm up at some campground. A place where folks walk around in the buff
all the time. Don’t know as I could do that myself. Everyone staring at my junk.”
I knew the place. Deven had invited me
to go with him a couple of months earlier. He poked his head over the back fence
as he usually did.
“This whole being locked-up at home thing
isn’t going to ruin my annual trip. Hell, it’s paid for, I might as well go.” He
brushed light brown hair back and tucked it behind his ears. “You’ve been pretty
careful through this, right?”
“I guess. Grocery runs, that’s about it.”
“The guy who usually shares the cabin
with me bailed. You want to go?”
His assumption that a clothing optional
resort would be right up my alley wasn’t really an assumption at all. All the neighbors
knew not to look over the fence unless they wanted an eyeful. Deven happened to
be the only one who didn’t mind looking, or at least being open about the fact he
did.
It took me about two seconds to decide.
I mean, getting the hell out of the house for something other than a grocery run
sounded perfect. The everyday drudgery weighed on my spirits. I’d never peeked over
into his back yard, so add on that Deven would be nude…I always wondered what all
those women found so alluring. Maybe I’d finally get my chance to find out. I arranged
vacation time, and in the predawn hours of that Saturday morning, small bags with
a few t-shirts each, we were in his low-slung SUV. It was maybe a cross between
a utility truck and a station wagon. Three hours in, he turned onto a washboard
gravel road. The vehicle bounced against my ass like a vibrator and made me squirm
in my seat.
“Gives new meaning to ‘stiff suspension,’
doesn’t it?” He grinned. “Maybe that’s why I hang onto this old rattletrap.”
I laughed and pushed my log to comfort.
He drove another hundred yards, rounded
a bend, and pulled off to the side. “This is it.”
I gawked around, stunned. “This? Uh, you
said cabin.”
“I did.” He pointed to a sign. “Warning!
You are entering a clothing optional area. You may encounter nudity.” He pushed
his large frame out and stretched. He shook one leg at a time as if to wake them
from slumber. Then he stripped off his shirt, dropped his pants, stepped out of
them and tossed everything onto the back seat. My view of him happened to be from
the waist down and he scratched at his balls, making his dick flop around. “Go ahead.
If you want to, that is. It’s not required.”
Deven strode to the bushes as I asked,
“How much further?”
With his head tilted skyward he sighed
as he pissed. “A while yet. Half an hour, easy.”
I didn’t think I’d make it the rest of
the way without needing him to stop. But taking a leak outside wasn’t exactly in
my repertoire. I didn’t know if I could even do it. It was tough enough trying to
piss through morning wood, how would I manage this? I inhaled, crawled out of the
vehicle and moved to stand before the underbrush. Turning away from Deven, my boner
popped loose when I unbuttoned my pants. I kept glancing over my shoulder
because I couldn’t pee if
someone watched. It took several minutes of straining—at least it seemed like minutes—before
the dam burst and the hardness abated.
Nature satisfied, we got back into his
car(?), truck(?) and continued on our way; Deven still buck naked, me still clothed.
I kept looking down at his crotch hoping for a glimpse of the meat monster that
made it so easy for him to get women into his bed.
Almost an hour later, the gravel turned
to asphalt and he pulled up under a large portico in front of a beautiful wooden
structure. Colorful flowers invaded everywhere your gaze wandered; pots and beds.
Two vases on either side of the polished oak door held the most gorgeous Cala Lilies,
their fairly broad leaves drifting downward in graceful arcs.
Masks in place, we entered to one large
open-beamed room. Couches and casual chairs situated near a huge stone fireplace
sat in groupings, square dining tables with seating for four each. At the very rear,
long buffet tables sat empty except for empty chafing dishes, lids askew. If this
was camping, now I was all in. Stunning and tasteful, the place looked like someone
had lifted a photo from Architectural Digest and set it down in the middle
of a forest.
A booming voice from my right drew my
attention to the small registration desk. “Deven. It’s so good to see you.” Someone
in a caftan, bouffant red hair and black stiletto heels ran toward us with open
arms, as if a man walking into your hotel lobby with the goods swaying in the breeze
would be an everyday occurrence. Air kisses and she turned to me. The smile faded.
“No Frank?”
I was instantly grateful I’d kept my clothes
on. Not that I’m ashamed of anything. I mean, guys at the gym? No problem. With
women, I always feel like they’d be judging things, sizing it up. I think them saying
size doesn’t matter is bullshit, and I always imagined them pointing at my cock
and laughing.
“And who is this? Aren’t you going to introduce
us?” Arms wide, she moved to engulf me. “I’m Tracy. Welcome to our little retreat.”
Deven swooped in. “Don’t let the tits
scare you. They won’t smother you completely.”
“Connor,” my name escaped from the
bountiful bosom. “Nice to meet you,”
“Now, come over here and get your key.”
Tracy waved an arm, a bright red fingernail pointed. “Your cabin is all ready for
you. I took the liberty of airing it out and dusting things down. Now, meals are
boxed because of the whole pandemic thing, but I have you down for two. Is there
anything you can’t or won’t eat?”
I was pretty sure Deven knew, though I’d
never said anything. Hope sprang that spending a week with a gay man didn’t send
him running for the car. I thought maybe trying to be funny about it might ease
things. “Only fish on two legs.”
A deep furrow knit Tracy’s brow. Deven
didn’t react at all. Just as I began to regret my attempt at humor, Tracy guffawed.
“Oh, I get it! Well, honey, you don’t have to worry about that around here. I don’t
think this place has seen one in decades. It’s just not the right habitat, you know?”
The wrong habitat? Those triple Ds begged
to argue. But as long as she didn’t wander around the grounds while we were out
and about, I’d be in a comfort zone. Deven collected the key, and accepted another
smothering from Tracy. We drove off asphalt onto gravel again. At least this was
level and smooth. We passed numerous small spaces, some empty, a couple with pop-up
tents and one was tattered and patched. Ugh, who would dare sleep in such a thing?
One site with a gleaming Airstream, one with an actual tiny house. One amazing,
huge tent, flaps open to reveal a bed, chairs and tables and a crystal chandelier
hanging from the center. An awning in front of it spanned a good fifteen feet with
party lights strung along the edges, and a firepit in the center. The diversity
of “camping” was definitely on display.
The road curved to the north giving way
to a cul-de-sac of real structures. Deven parked, and grabbed his clothes and bag
of shirts. I picked up my small overnight duffle and we went in. With the exception
of a water closet with both a urinal and toilet, and small sink, it was one large
room. A couch and two occasional chairs faced a flat screen tv on the wall. A stereo
system sat on a table below the television. Hugging the back wall: a single king
bed.
That's the end of Chapter 1.
Too much for a single post?
Still interested enough to keep reading?
