The Hunk of Long Bay

It is early dawn when he awakes. He instantly knows that something wonderful has happened, and it doesn’t take him more than a split second to realize what it is: he has slept with Chris Cutter.

He doesn’t need to turn to verify that it wasn’t a dream, but he does it anyway.

One broad shoulder and part of a smooth back are visible in the semi-dark. He smiles. He slept with Chris Cutter. Chris slept with him. And enjoyed it. He even let him …

His cock stirs, and he moves his hand down. Then stops. He mustn’t indulge himself.

He has to go.
He’ll cherish this night. The night his dream came true. More than that: his dream turned out to be rather modest in comparison with reality.

He’ll feast upon the memory for weeks. It’ll take months before he has to start to put an effort in keeping the pain of missing Chris at a distance. And he’ll know how to shield from that; he’s an expert in the field. Even though he can’t count on meeting Chris ever again – not like this anyway – he is determined never to let the memory of last night be tainted with regret. Ever.

He has to go.

Chris is still asleep and that’s good. It will allow Neil to keep his memory pure, unspoiled by awkward conversation and clumsy goodbyes.

He gets out of bed – carefully not to wake Chris – and dresses swiftly and quietly. His shoes he’ll put on later.

He turns at the door to take one last look, but finds he can’t. A hurricane seems to have risen in the room. He is forcefully turned around and pressed against the door. His shoes make a loud noise when they fall to the floor.

‘No!’ Chris says. ‘No. Don’t go. Don’t. Please.’

Neil is held captive by Chris’s solid body. His hands are pinned beside his head against the door.

‘Don’t go,’ Chris repeats, desperately. Then he’s claiming Neil’s mouth.

Neil lets him, amazed, drowning. Chris seems to be starved. Neil vaguely registers that last night started exactly like this. Except Chris wasn’t naked then, and Neil did have his shoes on.
He tries to give as good as he gets from Chris’s warm, wet and agile tongue, but he doesn’t understand why this is happening after last night. Why is Chris acting like he wants to start all over again?

The kiss is broken, and Chris says urgently, ‘Why were you leaving?’

Feeling nervous under his glare, Neil starts to explain, ‘I didn’t think … I thought this was …’ A one night stand. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. Not to Chris. He can see that now. Chris looks as though he’s about to face a loss he can’t bear without dying.

Oh god. Neil’s knees get weak with the implications. They aren’t clear yet. But they will be significant.

‘Don’t go,’ Chris says for the third time. ‘Stay.’

‘Yes,’ Neil responds.

‘Come back to bed.’

‘Yes,’ he says again.

He is sort of lifted and thrown onto the bed, pinned down there by most of Chris’s body and left hand, while the right one is almost tearing his clothes off. Neil would laugh if he wouldn’t be still confused and if Chris wouldn’t look so desperate. As it is now, he tries to be instrumental in his disrobing as much as possible.

When he’s completely naked, Chris starts kissing him again. Chris likes to kiss. And he likes to do it often. And Neil likes it too, this tongue in mouth fucking. He likes Chris’s broad hands caressing his body, making it glow. And squirm. Neil feels he’s squirming like an eel under Chris’s hands. Spineless like Linda always tells him he is. But spineless in a good way now.

Chris’s mouth clings to his lower lip before releasing it. His lips trace Neil’s jaw and his tendon. His hand moves from Neil’s nipple downwards, over his stomach to his groin. His thumb strokes the shaft of Neil’s penis, his fingers caress the scrotum, then move lower, to the perineum.

Neil gasps. There are … associations. Vivid memories of last night. He wants to know. How it feels. When Chris …

Chris’s fingers are pressing gently against Neil’s asshole. Oh, yes, he wants to know. But he doesn’t feel bold enough to ask.

And he doesn’t need to. Chris looks at him with very dark eyes, and inquires, ‘Do you want me to …’

‘Yes,’ he interrupts quickly. And embarrassingly loudly. ‘Please,’ he adds.

Chris takes the lubricant and starts massaging him. Neil can’t help arching his back and moving himself unto the finger inside. It’s like last night, causing the blood in his veins to centre in his groin, making his penis throb. It’s also different. Filled with anticipation. He knows what’s going to happen next. He wants it. He needs it.

‘Please.’

‘Shhh,’ Chris says. ‘We mustn’t rush things. Relax.’ But he adds another finger, stretching Neil.

He feels loose, liquid. Except for his cock which is very tight and hard.

Chris’s fingers feel wonderful inside, but they are not enough. He needs more.

And then finally, finally, Chris pulls his hand back. There are tearing sounds – a condom being unwrapped – rubber stretching sounds – the condom being rolled over Chris’s cock – squishing sounds – the condom being slathered with lubricant – and then Chris settles between Neil’s thighs. He leans in and guides his penis towards the spot between Neil’s buttocks.

He presses in, stretching Neil. He presses further, and it hurts. But then it doesn’t, and Chris slides completely inside. Neil is enveloping Chris. He is impaled on Chris. It’s hot. Oh god, so hot.

‘Okay?’ Chris is looking down on him, and he nods. And Chris starts to move. Magnificently. Sending a fire blazing through him. He knows he’s going to explode within seconds. He doesn’t care. He is moving to meet each of Chris’s thrusts, speeding up the process. He feels everything tighten: his back, his ass, his balls, his cock, and then he’s flying. And shooting squirts of sperm onto his belly.

There’s one other push and a cry and then Chris drops his weight on top of him. Neil can feel his raging heartbeat. Chris’s face is very close; it’s flushed and sweaty, the eyes are closed. Neil puts his lips to Chris’s cheek and tastes the salt; he runs his thumb over the wet hairs on Chris’s neck.

Chris stirs and says, ‘I’m going to pull out now. It’ll smart.’

It does and Neil winces, but he smiles when Chris looks at him. No harm done really.

The condom is disposed of. Chris laves Neil’s stomach clean, and then stretches himself against him, head on his shoulder, arm over his chest, hand on his biceps.

‘You’re not going, are you?’

‘No.’ He doesn’t know what he is going to do. He doesn’t know what it all means – this morning, last night. He learnt that it means something, though.

‘I love you,’ Chris says.

Oh, god.

No. This cannot be it. This cannot be what it means. It can’t be true.

Chris lifts his head. He looks hurt. Neil pulls him close. ‘It’s okay,’ he says quickly. ‘I love you too.’

‘But?’


‘But I never considered myself worthy of love. Especially not yours.’

‘Why?’

Neil almost laughs. ‘Chris, you’re the Hunk of Long Bay. I am a mortician with the ability not to live that matches his clients’.

‘I can make you feel alive.’ Chris’s tone reminds Neil very much of Leonard’s when he wants something and offers the promise of being a good boy for the rest of his life if he is to get it.

He is right, though, Chris.

‘You can,’ he agrees. ‘You do. You always have.’

Chris lowers his head, and Neil kisses his crown and strokes his shoulder. He can feel Chris breathing on his chest hair. It tickles when Chris says, ‘Being the Hunk of Long Bay has a high price, you know.’

Neil doesn’t. He can’t imagine what price that would be. ‘What price?’ he asks.

‘Never to know whether you are truly loved,’ Chris says. ‘To serve as a projection screen for other people’s desires. To try to live up to expectations all day, every day, out of fear that if you don’t, people will be disappointed and they will blame you and take it out on you. To be afraid that if you lose their admiration, you will be left with nothing.’

Neil keeps silent for a moment, his throat aching. Then he says softly, ‘Is that why you left back then, when we lost the Golden Broom?’

Chris shifts his head a little. ‘No. Yes. In part.’

‘There was more?’

‘I discovered that I had fallen in love with you, that same morning.’

‘What?’

Chris decides to ignore Neil’s surprise apparently. ‘Do you remember that morning?’

‘Yes.’ Yes, he does. He does recall the morning of the day Chris left Long Bay without saying goodbye.

‘I came by because I thought you could do with a pep talk before the tournament,’ Chris says. ‘I intended to visit James and Eddy as well, as is becoming a good skip. You were mauling the lawn of your front yard. It was very warm for a midmorning in June, and you were wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Green. You were gleaming a little with sweat. You looked up when I said your name and you smiled at me. That instant I knew I couldn’t marry Julie Foley.’

Neil closes his eyes and swallows. He would never have imagined that this was what had happened the morning Chris paid him that visit. He just had felt happy, and a little flustered, like he always felt on any day when he first saw Chris. The implications of Chris’s confession are ambiguous to say the least. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

Chris lifts his head. ‘How could I? I was engaged to be married to Julie within six days. You were married to Linda. She was eight months pregnant. Falling in love with you wasn’t exactly what people would expect from the Hunk of Long Bay, was it? I wasn’t pleased with the realization myself. It frightened me.’

‘So you couldn’t concentrate on curling, that night,’ Neil says. Chris had been uncharacteristically nervous. Neil had attributed it to the importance of the tournament, but it had been because Chris …

‘We lost,’ Chris says. ‘It was a blessing in a way. Made it easier for me to leave. I would have left anyway. I didn’t know what else to do.’ He sighs and rests his head on Neil’s shoulder again.

‘Where did you go?’ Neil asks, stroking Chris’s soft, thick hair.

‘Due north, to Alaska. I first enlisted with BP and then with other companies. I drilled for oil in countries all over the world. I kept Amy Foley posted of my changes of address.’

And she didn’t keep that a secret. Neil had been confused. He speculated about the reason of Chris’s departure and wondered if he had fallen in love with Amy. She would have liked that, obviously. But if he had, then why did he leave Long Bay?

Years had passed, and Chris hadn’t returned. Amy got pregnant with Victor Wilson’s child, before he left town as well.

Neil never considered writing Chris, although he could have asked Amy for the right address. He assumed Chris wished to be left alone. Maybe he had, but it seems questionable whether he had been happy.

‘What did you do when you weren’t drilling for oil?’ he asks.

Chris’s hand stills on his biceps. ‘Sleeping with men,’ he says against Neil’s nipple. ‘Discovering that I was truly gay.’ He looks up. ‘Trying to find someone to fall in love with. Hoping I had, every time I met somebody who was about two inches taller than me, and of slender build, with dark blond hair and blue eyes. Realizing that I hadn’t and that it was no use, after a while. Being unable to forget you. Thinking about you constantly.’

It’s hard to feel flattered or pleased when what you hear is difficult to believe. Neil feels guilty about it. It is like he mistrusts Chris.

‘I love you,’ Chris says, making things worse.

Neil doesn’t know what to say. He leans in for a kiss to mask it. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, and loving and sincere. When they part, Neil sees the look in Chris’s eyes, and realizes that it is true: Chris loves him. If only he could understand why.

‘Why?’ he asks.

‘Because you’re wonderful. Everything about you is wonderful,’ Chris says solemnly. ‘But the bottom line is: you’re the only person I know who truly accepts me. You don’t think I’m flawless.’ He lowers his head again, as if to indicate that there can’t be any discussion about this.

Is it true, though? Neil wonders. He, too, is prone to thinking that Chris is perfect. But he wouldn’t mind if Chris wasn’t. He wouldn’t take it out on him. In fact, he would welcome Chris’s flaws. They would add some balance to what they have (and what do they have, exactly?). It would make it easier for him to believe that Chris loves him. And why. For flawed people need support, and comfort, and guidance occasionally. Perfect people don’t.

He smiles at the thought of a non-perfect Chris, and his voice is almost steady when he says, ‘I love you too.’

Chris lifts his head to look at him. ‘You do?’

‘I do,’ he nods. Then he realizes that there are implications to this. They’re going to have to make major decisions, plans.

‘I want to be with you,’ Chris says. ‘Stay with you. I’ll understand if you don’t want to divorce your wife. I can find a place to live in a town nearby and we can have an affair. A long term affair,’ he stresses.

Neil looks at him, shocked. Chris is willing to settle for less than being the centre of his life. It is all wrong.

He shakes his head, then cups Chris’s jaw and pulls him close for a passionate kiss, to let him know that this is not a rejection.

When he lets go of Chris’s skull and catches his breath again, he says, ‘I want to be with you too. I want to be able to focus entirely on you. I don’t need any distraction. I’m willing to do what it takes. I’ll divorce Linda.’

‘Neil …’ Chris sounds and looks doubtful.

Neil swallows. ‘You don’t want that?’ Maybe Chris isn’t willing to focus entirely on him.

‘Oh, no, I do want that,’ Chris says. ‘It’s just … divorce is a drastic step.’

Ah, Neil gets it. ‘You don’t consider me a drastic kind of guy,’ he says.

‘No, actually, I don’t,’ Chris admits. He smiles. ‘But I might be mistaken, of course.’

Such a beautiful mouth. Neil traces the shape of his lips with his thumb. Never has he seen another man as beautiful as Chris Cutter. He’s certain such a man simply doesn’t exist.

‘I don’t love her, Chris,’ he says. ‘I never did. And the feeling has been entirely mutual. It has always been you.’

‘It has?’ Genuine surprise; no fishing. As if Chris ever would feel the need to fish for compliments.

‘I’ve loved you since the day we first met,’ Neil says. ‘I fell in love with you two years later. That feeling never ceased.’

‘When we met we were twelve,’ Chris says incredulously. ‘You’ve loved me for twenty-five years? Been in love with me for twenty-three?

‘Yes, I have,’ Neil nods.

‘Then why did you agree on dating her?’ Chris says. ‘Why did you marry her? Have children with her?’

‘Don’t you understand?’ Neil wonders. ‘I needed to disguise my feelings for you. For all I knew you were in love with Julie Foley. And I felt empathetic of Linda’s pain. I knew what it meant to want you and not to be able to have you. We helped each other out. Love had nothing to do with it. Not love for her, at least.’

‘But you do have three sons together,’ Chris says suspiciously.

‘Well, not exactly,’ Neil responds with a wry smile. ‘Linda gets pregnant very easily. It could even be done by throwing a wet cloth at her, I believe. I wasn’t the only one on the job. Actually, I have just one biological son. Patrick. I’m quite convinced that Richard and Leonard have different fathers.’

Chris’s jaw drops. ‘And you don’t mind?’

‘No, not really. I would if I’d loved her, maybe. Or maybe not. There is a difference in having certain knowledge and actually feeling the implications of it. It’s quite easy not to establish the connection.’

‘You must stop doing that,’ Chris says. Angrily. Because of the self-depreciating tone, probably.

‘I’m sorry,’ Neil offers.

‘You’d better be,’ Chris sort of growls. He presses his lips on Neil’s mouth. Hard. His tongue forces entrance. (As if violence is needed. As if Neil might consider even for a second to deny him access.)

The mouth fucking causes Neil’s blood to center in his groin, rendering the rest of his body limp and liquid. He forgets about the future for a while, helped by Chris’s skilled hands that are stroking him everywhere. He feels he’s going to soak into the mattress, but Chris stops. Panting but without a hint of a smile, he asks, ‘Any ideas as to how to proceed?’

He isn’t referring to their current activity and Neil knows it, but he can’t resist asking, ‘In making out?’

This causes a smile. ‘No.’ Chris shakes his head. ‘I hate to inform you, my love, but there’s more to life than this. Eventually we have to come out of this hotel room.’

‘To come out,’ Neil says.

‘Yes, if we’re lucky,’ Chris responds. ‘The question is; will we be able to live together in Long Bay? Will we be able to face the local people as a gay couple? And what about our friends?’

‘Eddie will be okay with it, I guess,’ Neil says.

‘Yes.’ Chris nods. ‘And I can think of a reason why James might as well, eventually. First he’s going to voice his shock and disgust very loudly, of course, but my being gay does render him a promotion, sort of.’

‘How’s that?’

Chris smirks. ‘Have you ever seen a gay alpha male?’

‘I most certainly have,’ Neil returns immediately. He feels himself blush under Chris’s glare, but continues bravely, ‘Met him when I was twelve. Just didn’t know he was gay.’

‘Is that so?’ Chris says slowly.

‘Yes, it is,’ Neil states firmly. ‘And by the way, I recall having read an article about alpha males once.’ (Actually, it very vividly had reminded him of Chris. And it had aroused him.) ‘Ranking in the pack and sex drive seems to be highly correlated. In fact, alpha males seem to have such a high drive that they tend to mount other males in the group about as frequently as they do the females. And they tend to have a preference for the lowest ranked males in the pack. Augh!’

Chris bit his nipple. Hard. ‘You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore. You are wonderful, Neil. Try to remember.’

‘I will,’ Neil hisses, squirming under Chris’s tongue that is consoling the nipple he just assaulted. ‘But it takes time.’

‘Hmm,’ Chris says. He lifts his head. ‘By the way, just let there be no mistake about this; alpha male or not, my sexual preference doesn’t include women. It is solely about men. Or, to be more precise; man, singular.’ He strokes Neil’s penis as to stress his point.

Neil bucks his hips, and Chris smiles, continuing his strokes with increased intent. ‘You know,’ he says in a casual tone, ‘even Amy Foley might be relieved to learn that I am gay.’

‘Or not,’ Neil pants.

‘Or not,’ Chris agrees.

God, the things he does with his thumb. And the palm of his hand.

‘Chris …’

‘Yes, love. It’s okay.’

So Neil bucks his hips wildly and helps Chris to jerk him off.

When his shots have ceased, Neil opens his eyes. Chris is smiling at him lovingly (and a little victoriously maybe.)

When he leaves the bed to get a washcloth, Neil realizes that Chris is right; soon they have to leave the room to face the rest of the world (or at least Long Bay). First, he is going to have to talk to Linda. He knows she won’t be amused. At all. He dreads the conversation.

He can’t avoid it. But he can postpone it a little while longer. He knows since very recently that he’s good at giving blowjobs.

So when Chris has cleaned his belly, Neil takes the washcloth from him, places it on the nightstand, and gestures Chris to lie down on his back.

Then he takes Chris’s half-hard cock in his mouth and smiles around it as he feels it harden.
He starts to use his lips, his tongue, his teeth, the hollow his mouth is, to pleasure Chris the way he has done last night. Effectively, he can feel. And hear.

‘Neil … god, Neil,’ Chris is saying.

It is arousing, even if his penis is too spent to stir. It is arousing to be good at something, especially something like this. Being good at pleasuring Chris Cutter feels great.

He senses that Chris is close, that it’s time to take him in deep and suck hard. He’s right. Chris tenses and growls and shoots. Neil sucks and swallows happily.

Chris doesn’t move for a while. Then he turns his head and blinks at Neil. ‘You are …’

He knows. He knows he’s good at this. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I have to get dressed, though.’
‘What for?’ Chris inquires startled.

‘I have to talk to Linda.’

‘Oh. Yes. Shall I ...?’ He stops, as if he realizes that it is a ridiculous suggestion.

‘No. This is something I have to do alone,’ Neil says. He smiles wryly. ‘But if I’m not back by say two this afternoon, you’d better call the police and tell them to look for fresh dug holes in the backyard.’

Chris grabs his wrist. ‘Do you really want this, Neil?’

‘God, yes,’ he replies. ‘I’ve wanted this for twenty-three years. Now you’ve given me a taste of what it’s like, I want it even more. So, yes, Chris, I really want this.’

He frees himself from Chris’s loosened grip, and starts dressing. Chris is looking at him with complete concentration, so it feels like he’s doing some sort of reverse striptease. The notion slows the process a little.

When Neil is finished, Chris walks him to the door, pushing him against it and kissing him. It’s a repetition of the scene earlier this morning, only Chris’s behaviour less resembles a hurricane and Neil’s shoes are on his feet now.

‘I love you, Neil,’ Chris says, ending the kiss. ‘Very much.’

Neil looks at him, still amazed that Chris can say these words to him and mean them. Chris Cutter loving him is a notion he isn’t able to fully grasp yet. But he will, in time. He’s confident that one day he no longer will tense at the words; that he will not need to force himself to relax before returning them.

As it is now, he concentrates on smiling and enunciating, ‘I love you very much as well, Chris.’

To his surprise, it doesn’t feel too uncomfortable. It might, in fact, be a very good start.


END