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Vertical Prose

June 29th, 2005

what the week was like in lauderdale @ 06:03 pm

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Date:June 30th, 2005 03:23 am (UTC)

The other side of a day in the Florida Everglades #2

He was hell-bent on Haulover, asking a second time as we were red with sunburn and mosquito blood of the ones we killed as they drained our blood. Sure, I said I’d go, playing the part of the perfect host. You see, Native Floridians, such as I, don’t bake in the sun; those are the tourists and transplants. On top of that, I was never one for Haulover.

How strange that he asked me out of all context: did I know that since I was not registered and not on his “friends” list, that I couldn’t see all that he posts on the journal?

“Oh?” I say, leaving it at that and saying that I only posted an anonymous comment once and it was left unanswered. I wondered then if I was supposed to or should I ask to be placed on his friends list, which I assume is by invitation only.

I filed that information away for times like now and yesterday, wondering if something was posted privately. Ear to the screen I listened carefully for the faint laughter maybe I thought I’d hear from behind that private wall. Let me pause a moment here to check. No, can’t hear anything yet.

So to Haulover. Clothes off. And in the water. Right under the watchful eye of the lifeguard. Word has always been: “take it somewhere else; this here is for sunbathing only and no funny stuff.”
Did I want to see him naked?
Did I wanna play in the water?
Somewhere else and more private?
Sure. Without hesitation.

Then along floated D (I remember his full name, but D will do for here. Just as he never mentions my name or even initial, I take as a sign of respect for privacy, thank you. Or maybe he forgot my name already!)

D’s not a Native Floridian, but what we call a Transplant, having lived here for 25+ years. The three of us talked until he left for the shoreline for a minute. When it was just D and I, the sound of the ocean must have began purring that song: “Reach out and touch someone.” D responded to the melody; I responded to D. Then I responded to the melody myself, reaching out to D. D by the way, is a much closer hit on his stats: several years and pounds on me with an attractive belly.

Inside I laughed when D asked me about my friend and if he would also want to get “friendly.” How unfair, I thought to myself, to respond and speak for him. So with a sly smile I responded “You’ll just have to try and find out for yourself.”

When he re-entered the water, I slowly drifted away from D and he. Giving them space, curious to see what’s up.

Jealousy, love, commitment, obligation? No, as I said before, I have no claim. I’m not “fragile” to use his term.

D found out first hand what he asked me. And you’ve already read his account. But to make a minor correction, D only came one. It was two tries. One cum. And he still needs to work on his timing, as he wasn’t quick enough. It was all in his beard rather than his mouth.

I was right there. Yes, I had drifted away some but he came after me, very excited by D. He took my hand and my arm. I never initiated anything, intentionally. D joined us before I had a chance to ask him not to cum; save it until later, in private.

There was touching by all of us, of all of us. Nice. Hugging. Nice. I just didn’t want him to cum there and be done with it. Maybe my few grabs at his arm to stop his self-jacking or just holding his stiff, sent him the message to hold off. Maybe not. But he did hold off. D didn’t, especially encouraged by him. D pointed out it was conditioner for his beard.

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