It had been years since I'd used an alarm clock no matter how beat I am, and this morning I feel totally beat. My eyes popped open somewhere between 5:00 and 5:30. I know from experience there is no going back to sleep. If I try, the result will be a headache that crawls up the back of my neck to lock my head in a vise.
I awake feeling more than fatigue. Disquiet churns my stomach. I feel as if a distant figure has solemnly intoned, "You may open your booklets and begin." At the very moment, I realize that not only have I failed to bring two sharpened No. 2 pencils, I am also naked.
I roll out of bed as quietly as I can while mentally kicking my own ass. I cannot imagine what possessed me to open up like that to two strangers. We've fucked and sucked each other but that doesn't make us friends. I must be getting fucking stupid in my old age.
I grab my trunks from the bar behind the tub, marveling that they had been tossed there last night. It feels like days ago. I groan, recalling how I briefly deep-throated Chad's cock and the astonished look in Amy's eyes when she tumbled to the fact he liked it. I groan again, this time out loud. What am I doing getting hooked up in what is bound to be a fucking three-ring circus? Haven't I had enough drama in my life already?
I pause, trunks in hand, as my stomach roils. I glance at the pocket door leading to the water closet. Am I going to puke? God I hope not. I hate puking and have no wish to look even more like a loser in front of these two.
I manage a slow deep breath, what the birth class instructor had referred to as a "cleansing breath," hoping to calm my stomach and my mind, but at the moment, I'll settle for quieting my stomach.
The place reeks of sex, a miasma of pussy, cum, and sweat. This does nothing to settle my stomach. I grab the dry bag, shorts, and shoes and flee my own bedroom. I wonder if rather than age making me stupid I have finally managed to cum my brains out.
I slide the screen door open and step onto the balcony and inhale the still air of the morning, enjoying the tangy odor of the sea. I put my running shoes and shorts in the dry bag, check to make sure my key is inside the bag, pull my trunks on, and go inside. I scrawl a quick note and leave it on the table and head for the beach.
I wonder if I will be relieved or disappointed to find Amy and Chad gone when I return.
The beach is deserted. I wade in and suppress a shudder. Yesterday's storm has churned the water in the shallow inlet, bringing up deeper and colder water. I duck my head beneath the next wave and begin to swim. My body falls into its accustomed rhythm and my mind wanders.
-
God, she had been so pissed off. She had looked like she could chew up a mouthful of nails and spit out carpet tacks. I cannot recall if it occurred to me that she was being more than a little weird about the whole thing. I mean, for Christ's sake, she had only left a few hours ago. Nowadays, even a hint of that much clinginess and I politely but firmly make my farewells. Of course, back then I was hoping to have a relationship, not avoid one.
-
"Are you dumping me, asshole?" Ann spat out as she pushed past me. I closed the door and she turned on me, head jutting forward. Her checks rouged with anger. If she'd been bald she could have been Mussolini telling me to put up my dukes.
That mental image on top of everything else could only result in one thing.
I busted out laughing. I would still argue that was not an unreasonable response. Ann? Ann had a radically different view of my response.
She started hitting me on the shoulder and upper arm. "Don't laugh at me you fucking asshole. Fuck you."
I twisted away, too busy trying to make sure she didn't accidentally hurt me, to answer her. I pulled the leg near her up guarding my nads on the off chance she decided to add a few kicks.
As quickly as it started, she stopped. I relaxed but remained turned slightly. Before I could answer, she started to cry. I don't expect anything, in whatever remains of my life, to make me feel worse than being the cause of Ann's tears.
She started to push me aside, moving toward the door. I managed to get an arm around her. I remember thinking maybe I should let her go. That would be the simplest course. Maybe as far as Ann was concerned perhaps that would be the best course. What I had done that morning in the men's room was never far from mind.
I could see the asshole's face. I could hear him sneer, "Does she know you're a faggot?"
Despite all that was to come, I don't regret stopping her from storming out of the door and out of my life.
She pushed against me, not very convincingly. She let me put my other arm around her.
I rocked her in my arms and whispered in the same tone I had once used on skittish horses. The words were of less important than the tone but they included. "Sorry" and "hush" and "don't cry."
She relaxed in my arms and sniffles replaced her sobs. I decided in those few minutes I would never tell her about what had happened in the men's room. More importantly, I decided that morning's fiasco had exorcised that particular demon. And if it hadn't, I would ignore it.
When she pushed me away this time, I let her. She wiped her eyes, then less ladylike, wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Her eyes sought mine. She hit me one more time on the chest as she sighed "asshole" at me. She touched the bruise around my nipple and I flinched.
I can still see in my head how her eyes grew large as she reached out to touch my chest.
"Did I do that to you?" Her voice was soft. She pointed at the bruise and abrasion around my nipple.
This was my last chance to tell her what happened; to tell her about what I consider my perversion. To tell her why it would never work for us. I couldn't do it because I had convinced myself that I could make it work, that I would make it work.
I looked down and probed the area around my nipple. "It doesn't hurt, not really. To be honest I don't remember when it happened." I smiled at her as the lie twisted around my heart. "We were pretty wound up at the time or at least I was."
Ann shook her head. "It was pretty crazy." She touched my chest. "I've never done that before, bit someone."
I shrugged. "It was kind of hot actually."
"Really?"
I nodded. "Really." I crossed over to the small chest of drawers and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I slipped them on and wedged my sockless feet into my tennis shoes, no more flip-flops for me.
"Come on let's get lunch."
"You sure? Don't do it just to be nice to me. If you don't want to go out with me, say so."
"Jesus Christ Ann, let it go." I held the door open for her. "But I assume that means you want to go out with me?"
"Of course. God, guys are dumb."
-
I shake free of my memories long enough to notice the tide is pulling me out further than I intended. I angle more toward the shore.