When finals week rolled around, everything around us ground to a halt. There were no parties on the Row, no meetings for any student groups, and of course no regular classes. But at that point, finals were the least of my concerns. All I could think of was the winter break to come.
I kept pulling up my e-mail, where Chad had sent our flight confirmation. It felt so official to see our full names together in all caps: CHAD MATTHEW COLLINS and SCOTT BRADLEY HARRINGTON. It was another sign that our relationship was getting very real.
I kept debating what I'd say to Chad's family. I was sure they'd been talking about me, and I could only imagine what they might be saying. I was especially worried about his mom; for all I knew, she could bring up the fact that I was butt-fucking her kid.
I also worried about practical things. If we'd be around his family, would we even get to have sex? Or would we spend the whole time resisting our urges? If need be, I thought, we could always sneak away for a quickie. But I didn't like that idea, because it reminded me of when we were in the closet.
The flight out was basically a blur. I vaguely remember going through security-- this time without any sex toys-- and boarding the plane.
I do remember taking in the view as we came in for landing. At first I couldn't see much, but then the wilderness gave way to suburbs. My heart started pounding when I saw the ocean and realized how close we really were. The next thing I knew, we were flying right past the downtown buildings. The plane almost seemed like it might land on a roadway, or even in the water. But then the airport appeared out of nowhere, and we thundered to a stop.
As soon as we turned our phones back on, Chad's phone buzzed with a message. "Okay," he said, "there's supposed to be a driver waiting in the terminal."
"Say what?"
"Yeah," he said. "We should see him as soon as we leave security."
I snorted. "I've never had a driver before."
"Dude," he said, "it's a glorified taxi service. I guarantee it's cause my mom didn't want to be bothered."
"If you say so," I said as I undid my seatbelt.
Sure enough, once we got off the plane and walked through the concourse, we found the driver waiting for us. He looked exactly the way I'd imagined: he wore a dark blue suit and hat, and he held a sign that said
Chad Collins and co
.
"So I guess I'm 'and co'?" I asked.
"That's one way to put it," Chad said, "except you're my co." And he waved to the driver.
As we left the airport, I took in the sights and sounds around us. The place did seem like an escape from reality. We drove past hundreds of sailboats; the palm trees were swaying in the breeze, and the sun was glittering on the water. We crossed over a bunch of coves and inlets, then headed into the hills.
Chad's house was a Spanish Mission-looking place. He opened the front door, which was in the shape of an arch, and we stepped into the foyer. From there, I could see all the way through to the patio out back. Everything around us was pretty much spotless.
I saw a female form in the distance. She was crouched over a table, apparently poring over papers. She reached up to wave, and I saw she had a martini in her hand. "Hi boys," she said.
Chad and I walked up to her. "Hey Mom," he said.
She gave Chad a big kiss, but then she flinched. "Yikes!" she said. "What's with this beard?"
"Come on Mom--"
"Scott," she said, "what do you think of it?"
"Well, uh... I-I dunno...."
"I mean, you've got to kiss this more than I do. So I guess if you don't mind--"
"Mom!"
"What-- are you saying it's not true?" She sipped her martini, then set down the glass. "I'm sorry, we haven't been properly introduced. Not that we really need to be. I'm Linda."
I just shook her hand. "Nice to meet you," I said. Chad's mom was basically a MILF, or at least that's how most frat guys would see her. Her eyes were almost identical to Chad's. She must've been approaching fifty, but she didn't look it at all. Her dress seemed designed to show off her cleavage. Her lipstick was bright red, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
"Sorry about the mess," she said as she pointed to her papers. "I was just meeting with my decorator. We want to redo the kitchen."
Chad rolled his eyes. "Again?"
"Anyway, I've got both of your rooms set up. Here, follow me--"
"Both of our rooms?" Chad asked.
"Yes," she said as she headed for the stairs. "I figured Scott could sleep in the guest room."
"He's fine in my room."
"Well, you wouldn't have much space--"
"We've slept together before," he said, "in closer quarters than this."
I was too embarrassed to say anything. I'd tried so hard to give a good first impression, so I didn't want to talk about this stuff in front of her. But she didn't give me a choice.
"What do you think, Scott?" she asked. "Where would you rather sleep?"
"I, uh--" I stammered for a second, then forced out the words: "I'm fine with whatever."
"See?" Chad said. "I told you. We'll figure it out."
"All right," she finally said, "suit yourselves. Just let me know what you need--"
"Yeah okay Mom," Chad said as he waved her away.
Finally Chad opened the door to his bedroom, and he motioned me to come in. At first glance, his room looked like someplace a meathead might live: he had a shelf full of trophies-- apparently for his basketball prowess-- and his walls were lined with athletic posters. But once I looked more closely, I noticed that a lot of the posters were of swimming competitions, where the boys were all in speedos. Other pictures just showed big well-toned men, some more scantily clad than others. Chad being Chad, his room was also pretty messy, and I saw copies of
Men's Health
lying around. I was kind of surprised that no one had picked up on his tendencies before-- at least as far as I could tell.
"Check this out," he said as he pointed out the window.
I saw the patio beneath us, complete with a pool and jacuzzi. In the distance, I could see the ocean on one side and rolling hills on the other. "Holy shit," I said. "That's a helluva view."
He checked to make sure his mom was safely out of earshot. Then he pointed toward me. "I always liked this view way better."
"Oh for crying out loud--"
"Look behind you," he said.
I turned and saw one of his posters above me. It showed a bunch of Olympic divers, and it didn't leave much to the imagination. Their bulges were so well-defined that I could totally make out what was under that fabric.
"You know how much I used to jack off in here?"
I surveyed all the man flesh around me. I had to admit that it got my blood pumping.
"You probably don't want to use a blacklight in here," he said. "I guarantee you'd find cum in places you never expected. I mean, you know how far I shoot...."
