Hurricane Warning

Hurricane Warning

This is an original fictional story. Any resemblance between persons or places to actuality is purely coincidental. All persons engaged in sex (male on male) are over 18 as should be any reader, as may be required by local law. Copyright, 2023. BD

This story, like many of mine, focuses on the possibilities for young gay men to deepen relationships and find commitment in a world of inter-personal possibilities and external societal temptations. Sometimes we need to lose before we realize what we have.

It was late August. Two recent Duke grads had decided to take a last minute, week-long vacation in Key West before beginning their new jobs as financial analyst trainees at Morgan Stanley in New York. Both of the guys, who had been friends since first year at Duke, were Economics majors and had been accepted into the two-year program at the New York headquarters. Only the best received such offers and they had graduated near the top of their class.

Key West seemed ideal--exotic, with plenty of water, easily reached from their homes in Durham by car, and with lots of action--their kind of action. Both of the guys were gay, athletic and good-looking, and ready to party. They found a B&B off Duval which they could afford--rates being lower during the doldrum/tropical storm months of August and September. The drive had taken about a day. And the B&B was a colorful Victorian remodel, exotic and acceptable. Upon arrival, they unpacked, showered and went in search of dinner and few drinks.

The next days were perfect--daily sunshine, warm temperatures moderated by the constant trade winds that almost always swept the Keys, afternoon thunder, sometimes with a downpour (providing an opportunity for a "quickie" in the king), and then humid nights spent in various gay-friendly clubs dancing and flirting.

The guys were apartment mates and occasional fuck-buddies, tending toward exclusivity in the last year. But each of them had an active sex life in his own right. Neither found it difficult to pick up or be picked up--even in conservative North Carolina. They each had separately concluded they were gay during their first year at Duke and met soon after. RTP was gay friendly, even if the rest of the state fulminated about the damnation that would result from same-sex encounters, let alone unions. But, those "extra-curricular" hooks had been tapering off in the last year as the guys drew closer together.

David was a top--although he had made a few exceptions when he was with Jean Marc. Jean Marc was a vers/ bottom. It was curious that they had become such close friends. Academically, they were both gifted--and econ majors. But, physically, they were exact opposites. David had a rugby physique with massive thighs and guns, deeply cut abs, steak-slab pecs, and a firm rounded butt. His dick was short/average (around 6 1/2), but very thick, uncut, and shaved (the proverbial fireplug). He was blond and blue eyed. He was an athlete, a gym rat and fiercely competitive on any field or court. He was the classic scholar athlete: a star player and an excellent student.

Jean Marc, on the other hand, was "Med man"--swarthy skin, black hair, mysterious, dark "bedroom" eyes, with a 5 o'clock shadow. He was tall--over 6-4--with lighter muscles, developed in competitive tennis. His dick was uncut, slim, but very long--in every respect resembling a long thin snake. He was definitely a grower--stretching to 9 inches when fully-aroused. He preferred one-on-one competitions and generally without violent impacts. He was the epitome of the matinee lover--even with the ability to put on a thick French accent at will.

Their mutual love of the water and particularly sailing had initially brought them together. They had both signed up for the Duke sailing club which had facilities on the Atlantic on a nearby barrier island. Many weekends, outside of rugby season, were spent on the water or in it since both were good and avid sailors and swimmers.

David had initially come on to JM--one hot afternoon after both had shed clothing while sailing in the heat on the calm intra-coastal waters. He was fascinated by JM's long thin cock which swung from side to side as JM worked the lines of the small laser. JM's delight in David's strength, dominance, and fireplug cock and its ability to poke his prostate with precision while continuously stimulating and crowding his chute, had sealed the deal. David occasionally, but rarely, permitted JM's long snake to slither easily into his lubed chute. They were more than friends, probably at the precipice of commitment. This trip had two purposes: a last fling before anticipated grueling long days in the New York financial scene and a chance to see on what terms their relationship might progress to the next level. They had talked about exclusivity once they were in New York, but neither was yet ready to commit.

From their arrival in Key West, the guys were alert to any possibility of getting out on the sea--as passengers, deck hands, mates or whatever--just so they could do so without significant expense. It was the end of the summer and funds were low until they each started to work in a few weeks. On their second day, they lucked out. They had left crewing offers at two of the yacht chartering facilities. One called. A young family (husband--an accomplished sailor, his wife and their two young--7 and 9--boys wanted a day sail charter)--and the father wisely asked for crew since he had chosen a 44' Beneteau. Nice cat, but beyond the capability of one person unless superhuman--and certainly not with young children aboard. David and Jean Marc quickly changed into board shorts over Speedos with tees and boat shoes and drove to the yacht harbor. Introductions were made. The deal was struck, and the early departure was set for the following day.

Morning arrived and David and JM manned the lines as Peter Morris ("It's Pete.") steered them out of the crowded slips. It was a terrific sunny day with a bright blue cloudless sky. The young boys took immediately to their new-found older "brothers" and shadowed them throughout the day, asking questions about every maneuver they executed. Pete was a perfectionist and able captain. Sophia, a raven-haired lush beauty, who obviously tanned easily, immediately began a conversation in French with JM.

As soon as they left the harbor, Sophia lost her blouse (no bra or bikini top) and shorts, leaving only the bottom of a chrome green Brazilian bikini. Pete removed his shirt, displaying a mature but well-trained and cut body--probably a former football star. He had been a college athlete and refused to go to seed. He was about 6-2, with dark brown eyes, clean cut, shaved and tanned. At first the guys assumed he was alpha straight, and they hoped not homophobic. He soon tossed his shorts into the cockpit, remaining with a skimpy red thong that barely contained his monstrous sleeping giant, but clearly showcased his bulbous helmet and tight, rounded ass. No straight would wear such a bikini!

Pete had set the tone. Gladly accepting the apparent no-dress code, David and JM followed and removed board shorts and tees, remaining in minimal Speedo bikinis. Everything was thus very European. After a few hours of sailing, a gourmet lunch (which had been provisioned by the marina hotel) was set out and eaten as they anchored near a small deserted island. But Pete decreed no alcohol. He was anticipating some heavy late-day sailing and wanted to be sure everyone was able to perform in heavy weather.

Fortunately, there were no storms that day and the perfect day sail ended around six. Pete invited the guys to enjoy sundowners on deck after they anchored. They talked and agreed that if Pete could find another boat, he could count on them for help. Obviously, Pete had found them to be compatible company. It turned out that Pete was a New York banker with a condo on the Lower West Side. This was their annual family vacation--and both his young boys would be in school within a few days. Phone numbers were exchanged. Pete also made it clear that he was bi, attracted to David and JM, and possibly ready for a non-family event later in the week. (He had been sporting a semi most of the day--and kept rearranging it within the small red pouch of his thong.)

David and JM were tired from the hot, bright sun and desperately needed restorative showers. They walked the short distance back to the B&B and decided to shower together. They were tired, but incredibly aroused by the near nudity of the entire day on the water--and Peter's suggestive poses. Fortunately, the shower was large and designed for two--this was Key West after all. Soapy hands were soon caressing, pressing, squeezing, stroking, penetrating. Both cocks were at full attention. "I'm gonna do you JM."

"Yeah, but then it's my turn. We're gonna flip tonight. I'm feeling a little like I want to pitch. I wanna do you. Pete sure set the tone."

"If you're a really good boy bottom, I might let you."

The two young men semi-dried and headed for the king.

"Assume the position. I'm going to destroy that tanned ass of yours."

"Yes sir." JM already was into David's occasional dominant attitude.

JM dropped his shoulders onto the mattress, grabbed a few pillows for support and pointed his muscled ass at David in submission. David approached, knelt behind him, and slapped the thighs farther apart. Then he trailed his lubed fingers along the hairless crevice, rimmed the twinkling pink opening, and inserted an index finger deep inside. JM moaned his pleasure in response. David squirted some flavored lube on the rim and inside. He worked the finger around, finding and then scraping the prostate. Then he dove in, pushing past the sphincter with his curled tongue while he latched his lips onto the rim and sucked as his hands grabbed JM's hips to steady him. JM murmured out a string of obscenities and pushed back into David. "You've got the most talented tongue and lips on the planet. I love it when you eat me."

"And you've got one of the tightest, tastiest boy cunts in Key

West--although I must say, that statement is without real research on my part."

Soon David replaced his tongue with long fingers: first one, then two scissored, then three. He was big and girthy and the all-day denial had brought him to a peak level of stiffness and size. Finally, it was time. He positioned, grabbed JM's hips, placed the dark head at the tunnel entrance, and pushed. JM took a deep breath and David popped in through the tight sphincter and froze. "God, I love having Davey inside me." David reached under, collected some of JM's precum and began to massage it into his dick. JM jolted with the sensitivity of the edging, and growled, sounding like a panther in heat. "You are so good, David. I'm ready. It's time to drill."

So David began his hip driven pile driving, hitting the prominent prostate with each stroke. JM squeezed and trapped David deep. So David stroked JM's dick rapidly and pulled him into his lap as he sat back on his calves. One hand under the balls, the other stroking at speed. JM was helpless. He was too aroused. He could feel the sap rising in his pole, boiling out of his swollen balls. He was going to explode. And so he shouted out his eruption as David caught most in his fist. Then he rubbed some on JM's chest, and pinched the swollen, sensitive nipples. Finally, in near torture, he massaged the cream into and palmed the sensitive head. JM responded with a deep gasp and a severe jerk. The super-pleasure was just too much. JM's anal muscles suddenly contracted and David could feel himself being milked to a powerful series of spasms and blasts. Not quite simultaneous, but close enough. David fell on and trapped JM into a tight embrace and began licking his earlobes and neck.

"Mon Dieu, we're good together. Just enough practice to know the e-zones, the timing, and the pleasure spots. I think I'm just about ready to take the next steps with you, David."

"I'm tired. Let's skip dinner and turn in early. But you probably need another quick shower."

"That is not exactly what I meant. We can talk later. But remember, I get to be the big spoon. And I'm claiming my drilling rights later. I didn't get the flop to your flip yet. This evening is not over." JM got up, rinsed off in the shower and dried before crawling back into the bed.

David spooned into JM's gut and wiggled his glute muscles into place. JM in turn raised David's thigh and placed his semi-hard long snake between the thighs, poking the space just under David's balls. JM reached around, fisted David's cock and held him tightly against the dick head. "Go ahead and try to sleep now lover!"

David squeezed his thighs together, trapping JM. "Oh, babe, you are good. I can handle this position for a few minutes. What do you think of Peter? He's definitely a dad that I'd like to fuck. And he may be around next fall when we are working the Street. He could be an interesting guy to know. He's with a major hedge fund and specializes in acquisitions."

"I'm going to leave him to you this trip. I'm looking to find a chicken. My goal this week is to take a cherry. This may be my last chance before we commit to exclusivity."

"Good luck. This is Key West--there are no virgins within a hundred miles."

"Oh, I think maybe I'll find one. You can have the dads."

"I'm okay with that--so long as they all look like Pete."

Both guys dropped back on their pillows and eyes began to drop. David turned away and rested on his front, scissoring his right leg forward. But JM was not ready to sleep. He relaxed, then played with his phone until he heard David's breathing begin to slow. He put the phone on the end table, turned toward David and smiled. Then he began one of his favorite patterns. He had hung back, waited and then pounced when his prey least expected, like a big cat. David was dozing, turned away. Suddenly, JM moved. He covered with his strong dark body, pushed David to the mattress and immediately began to use his lubed fingers in David's fount of pleasure. Then he easily slid his dick into David just as David had reached that moment of almost sleep. David was rock hard within seconds; JM pumped from the side, long easy strokes which became steadily faster and deeper. David was quickly writhing in heat and pushing back into JM. Sleep was forgotten. He lofted his ass in welcome. But JM had other plans. "I want to see you, love. On your back."

So David flipped, flopped back on the pillow, planted his feet flat on the mattress and leveraged his ass up over the mattress. JM pushed his thighs under David's ass and positioned his long, curved dick at the entrance. He lavished lube on the hole and his pole. Then, he moved closer in and began pushing his dick head inside again. The curve was perfect in this position. It quickly found and stroked the prostate. David sucked his gut in and his cock stretched up toward it. JM bottomed, then reached behind David and drew him into his lap and chest. David squirmed with the fullness, brought his lips to JM's ear lobe and nipped. Then his tongue came out and he traced the hollow of JM's neck sending shivers down JM's spine. The guys were locked in a tight embrace; David enjoying the fullness and JM feeling the depth.

JM fell forward and deepened his penetration. David wrapped his legs around JM's waist as JM stretched out his legs, exaggerating the contact between cock and cunt. Then he started doing push ups, driving his hips forward with each downstroke. David was moaning and thrashing, really enjoying the ride when he felt the fluid rising along the tube along the back of JM's dick. Then he felt the internal hot gush of JM's French seeds. Once, twice, another spasm, again and again. It was too much. David exploded between them, covering both with his creamy white spunk. Oh, he loved this guy--and the way this guy turned him on. He was pleased they were going to be apartment-mates in Manhattan in a few weeks. Another shower was needed. Who knows? Maybe they were meant for each other.

********

Two days later Pete called. He had arranged a two-day charter to Dry Tortugas on the same Beneteau cat. Sophia's sister had arrived with her young daughter and he was going crazy with all the French girl talk and the kids. No Sophia this time. No kids. Were David and JM interested?

David had taken the call since JM was occupied with a young red-haired Texan (Scotty) that he had hooked the previous night at the small gay club behind the touristy Margaritaville Bar. He claimed to be a virgin, but David had wondered. After all, he was 20, obviously out, and very attractive--and he was in Key West! At any rate, JM had liked Scotty's young, clean innocent look and decided virginity was always in the eye of the beholder. Both of the guys were now together in Scotty's room which was conveniently only three doors down Duval from their B&B. David was trying to imagine how Scotty would convince JM that he was indeed a virgin.

Later, JM and Scotty returned and all decided to do a happy hour tour. JM was smiling and sported the satisfied look of the cat that gotten the canary--at least the canary's cherry--while Scotty had all the signs of a newly-fucked young bottom--his eyes were dreamy; he was flushed; he sported a few dark hickeys on the back of his neck; and, he walked a little too carefully. He couldn't keep his hands from JM's shoulders and waist. In fact his fingers were hooked into JM's waistband. Maybe Scotty was not a virgin, but he was young, inexperienced, presumably tight--and into JM. David winked at JM and told him about the call. JM was excited about the prospect of the sail and wondered if Scotty might be welcome--he was not letting this young conquest out of his grasp quite yet. JM was enjoying being the top, the teacher, who called the shots. He intended to make the most of this fresh meat before releasing him to the world. So JM introduced Scotty.

Scotty (nee, Jim MacIntosh) was about to enter his second year as a cadet at the Coast Guard Academy in New London. He was obviously an avid and accomplished sailor. He was just 20, 5-11, with curly red hair and a face full of freckles. He had a nice boyish body with light, but cut, muscles and a ruddy tan. Not a twink--but not far from it. So David called--and the date was set for the four guys with an early morning departure the next day. This would be the capstone of David and JM's vacation. It was then going to be time to head north and begin real life. Scotty was also due back in New London in a few days' time. His Key West roommate had already left after a family emergency and would join him there.

The next morning, at dawn, all of the guys were actively examining all of the equipment on the Starfish II. A two day sail without an intermediary marina or provisioning depot definitely requires careful checking before departure. David examined the provisions, checked the water and fuel levels and pronounced everything to be in order. Pete had all the charts, knew the GPS system on the cat, and had weather reports. There was a tropical disturbance stalled south of Cuba, but it was not expected to impact their trip--except possibly in a positive way by providing stronger than normal winds. So Scotty double-checked the reefing lines if less sail were needed. As the sun rose, they were slowly motoring out of the marina, headed west to the National Park.

Within minutes they were outside the harbor marina, cut the engines, raised the main, and within a half hour, there were no other vessels visible on the horizon. With good winds (and no motor use), it would take five to six hours to reach the remote desert island. Pete was at the helm and immediately stripped--no thong this time. The thong had not hidden much. Pete was hung. He was broad shouldered with big tight muscles. David and JM followed. Scotty at first was surprised and maybe a bit shy, but he wasn't going to be the "man out" so he too stripped. To cover his embarrassment, Scotty remarked that he needed 45 sunscreen since parts of his body had never before seen the sun. All the guys laughed and Pete threw the tube to Scotty. "I can tell you, it makes lousy lube."