Sunlight poured into the floor-to-ceiling windows of the spacious bedroom, illuminating the pale yellow walls and soft off-white trim. Anthony's eyes fluttered as a warm ocean breeze floated across his face and wafted into his twitching nostrils. After a yawn big enough to pull at the sides of his mouth, the thirty-five-year-old began to wake from the previous night's peaceful slumber. The five-foot-nine-inch male slowly sat up, stretched, and tossed the light green silk sheet off his slender, lightly tanned, toned legs. His smooth-soled size ten bare feet twisted and turned from side to side just before his toes wiggled and scrunched. He gently wiped the sleep dirt from his light brown eyes, then lazily ran his fingers through his soft dark brown hair. He slipped on the white ankle socks with grey toes and heels he'd laid out before going to bed and headed for the en suite bathroom. Next, he walked over to his tall, three-drawer, mahogany dresser, opened the top drawer, pulled out a pair of red boxer briefs, and put them on. The thin fabric hugged his plump ass cheeks and accentuated his generous manhood.

The brunet wasn't big on wearing a lot of clothing in the house, so clothed in just his underwear and socks, he headed into the bright and airy kitchen, where he fixed a cup of coffee with Keurig's reusable K-cup. He opened the fridge, retrieved the eggs, bacon, and OJ, and began making breakfast. It wasn't long before the three-story Cape Cod beach house filled with the scent of fried bacon. The starving, bare-chested, boxer brief, ankle sock-clad young man took his food outside. He sat at the black wrought iron multi-colored glass top round table on his back deck, watching the dolphin playing in the distance and marveling at the majestic mountains beyond the water.

After eating, Anthony took a long, cleansing, deep breath, closed his eyes, and silently thanked the God and Goddess for giving him the amazingly blessed life he enjoyed. He came from a wealthy family who helped others in any way they could. The brunet believed love, respect, kindness, hard work, and civic duty were more valuable than money or material possessions. He did his best to pass those values down to his fourteen-year-old son, Xander, who was enjoying a two-week stay in Hawaii with his Grandma, Uncles, Aunts, and Cousins. They asked him to go, but he wanted time to relax and write. Even though Anthony didn't have to work, he did have a job as a well-known local musician. Currently, he was enjoying a much-deserved break. His next gig, "A Night of Music On The Beach," was a charity event and wasn't for another two months. The proceeds were going to the homeless shelters and the Veteran's Hospital. The only downside to his life was loneliness. Because of his stature in the community, and monetary value, it was difficult for him to find someone who wanted him and his son for themselves.

Anthony stifled a yawn as he brought the plate and glass into the house, placed them into the dishwasher, loaded the detergent, and turned it on. An audible groan escaped his plump, moist lips when he stretched his arm and leg muscles. He glanced at the weather app on his phone before going to his bathroom to brush his teeth and hair. Once finished, the homeowner removed his underwear and replaced them with purple swim trunks, stepped into his grey and white sneakers, pocketed his cell phone, locked the sliding kitchen door, and placed his keys in the lock box. He walked past the enclosed, in ground pool, through the gate, and down the steps that led to the clothing-optional stretch of beach he and his gated community neighbors enjoyed.

At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled the shoes and socks off, then started his barefoot walk along the warm sand. The atmosphere was light, fun, and loving. Smiling, happy people, some with their kids, all in various amounts of clothing, enjoyed the late morning together. Anthony never acted like a snob or better than anyone else. He always smiled when someone stopped him for an autograph, to shake his hand, hug him, offer ideas for a song or an album, or hand him a demo. Sometimes, he was even offered a role in one of the many stage productions at the community theater. Today's walk was even more fun than usual because he got to stop and help a pair of five-year-old twins, a boy, and a girl, fix their sandcastle. The joint endeavor was a huge success, it also brought back wonderful memories of time spent with Xander, and the joyful event was captured on the ecstatic parent's cell phone. After the castle was constructed, Anthony took some time to watch and play with the kids while the grateful mom and dad had a relaxing swim. Knowing he'd made four new friends warmed the musician's heart.

Back at the house, Anthony showered and began working on some music. A couple of hours later, he'd just finished writing the chorus of a new song when the doorbell rang. The brunet set the guitar aside and walked into the living room. He let out a mournful sigh when he saw who the visitor was and quickly glanced around the room for something, anything to cover himself with. Not seeing anything, Anthony shook his head and opened the door. "How's it going, Brent," he asked with a tone of displeasure.

A smile came to the twenty-five-year-old Brent Oaks' face when he ogled his neighbor's muscle-toned arms, chest, and legs, dressed in nothing except a thin pair of pink and purple striped no-show socks that he thought looked adorable on the older man. The power of speech eluded the five-foot-ten-inch tall man as his head continuously moved up and down, and his tongue swiped back and forth across his thin lips.

Anthony rolled his eyes as he stood in the doorway, with the warm breeze blowing across his slightly hairy balls and hairy crotch. "Did you need something, Brent? If not, I've got music to write."

"Fuck, the one day I forgot my camera, and phone," the young blonde-haired male said in amusement as he found his voice.

"That must suck for you," Anthony responded with an annoyed facial expression. "Look, I don't have all day to stand here like a statue." He started to close the door when Brent's hand stopped him.

"Aren't you gonna invite me in?" Brent asked before wagging his eyebrows at the vision of sexiness.

"Not if I can help it," Anthony stated. "The last time I did, you plastered that fuckin' trashy magazine with pictures of me and my kid. You're Goddamned lucky I didn't sue you personally."

"C'mon, Ant..."

"Don't call me Ant. I don't like you," Anthony spat.

"Don't be mad, sexy Daddy," Brent cooed in a sultry tone. "Ya can't blame a boy for tryin' to make a living." He smiled and extended his arm toward the tanned bare chest before him. His index fingertip lightly traced circles around the older man's firm right pec and nipple. He giggled when Anthony's body shivered and boyish giggles floated into his ears. Brent grinned and said, "Ooh, someone's ticklish."

A blush formed on the brunet's cheeks as he grasped his visitor's wrist and removed the offending fingers from his warm flesh. "I'm really ticklish and am tired of interacting with you. Now, can you please leave," Anthony asked with a growl.

"Fine, but just think about all the fun you and I could have, sexy," Brent grasped the older man's head, pulled him closer, and kissed his lips.

Anthony's eyes widened, and he pushed Brent backward. His eyes narrowed and darkened as he said, "Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again, you bastard." He ensured that Brent's body was not in its path before he slammed the door shut in the blonde man's face.

Brent stood on the doorstep for a minute, savoring the taste of Anthony's tongue. "I do love a guy who's feisty," he said to himself before he turned and walked back to his house a few streets away.

Anthony leaned against the door and wiped the sweat from his brow. Next, he headed for the bathroom to cleanse his mouth with mouthwash and take a hot shower to dispel the feeling of Brent's hands on his body.

Later that night, while watching the news, Anthony's phone rang. He smiled when he saw his son's picture fill the screen. "How's my favorite kid?" His boy's giggling was like a symphony to his ears.

“Daddy, I'm your only kid," Xander said.

"Oh, shit, you called me Daddy," Anthony stated. "What's wrong? Who am I gonna have to sue or beat the crap out of?"

"Yeah, right, like you'd ever beat the crap outta anyone, Old man," Xander retorted. "It's nothin' like that, Dad," the teen said.

Anthony got up, walked to the bar, and fixed himself a Malibu and Pepsi mixed drink. "What's it like then, baby boy," he asked before taking a sip and returning to his light blue love seat.

"Umm, I'm kinda coming home with a souvenir or two."

"Okay, what's so different about that? I'd be surprised if you didn't."

"Well, ya see, Daddy…"

"Please, tell me you didn't get someone pregnant," Anthony joked.

"Uh, not this trip, maybe next time," Xander responded between his giggling. "One of my souvenirs breathes, and it's gonna need a crate, food, and water dishes."

"Cat?" Anthony asked as he chuckled and shook his head.

"Puppy," Xander excitedly answered. "An adorably cute golden retriever. I've named him Gizmo."

"I'll go to the store tomorrow and get some things for my new Grandpup," Anthony said. He smiled and was very happy there would be a new addition to the family.

Xander's laughter flowed from the phone's speaker and filled the house, as did Gizmo's high-pitched bark. "Gizmo, that's your new grandpa."

Anthony, his son, and Gizmo talked for another hour before saying their goodnight and I love you’s. The brunet went around the house, locked the doors and windows, then crawled into bed. He drifted into a peaceful sleep, with pleasant dreams of the fun times ahead with his kid and new grandpuppy.

To be continued...

Posted: 06/09/2023