Jerry

By: Will B
(© 2009 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Jerry Taylor and Trace Mackenzie, both 38, both in the Marines, were stationed in Iraq. While on R&R leave, they met at a hotel for “gentlemen of particular tastes” in Cairo, and came together in an encounter that made them both realize that their feelings for each other were more than just physical.

Chapter 2

Hi, fellows. Come in and make yourselves at home. There are some magazines for guys like us on the table, and there are drinks on the bar. I’ll be ready to continue my story as soon as I ‘make some slight adjustment to my apparel’ as they used to say. There are tissues on the tables, and--- you two, over in that corner, why don’t you wait until I’ve finished my story. Honestly, wouldn’t you think some people could keep their hands out of their buddies’ jeans! I tell you!

Trace and Jerry decided that Trace would move his stuff into Jerry’s room, so they wouldn’t have to waste a minute commuting from one room to another. They spent all their time making love. They talked about their lives and their hopes and plans.

“Trace, where are you from?” Jerry asked.

“My family’s from California. We have a large home on a secluded beach about ten miles from San Francisco.”

“Got any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. My parents are dead. I was an only child, and I don’t have any other relatives except maybe for a distant cousin, but I don’t know… I’ve never met him. How about you, Jerry?”

/////

“I’m like you. Nobody in the world to worry about or to worry about me…”

“Listen, my sweet, you’ve got me, and I’ve got you, babe.”

(Sounds of some prolonged kissing)

“Listen! My dear, you made that sound like an old song by…. What were their names?.... Sonny and Cher?”

“So I do. But it’s true. I’ve got you and I never want to lose you, Jerry.”

(More sounds of the same).

“Tell me about this home of yours, Trace.”

“Well, if you want the full story, in the 1850s a man named Jerome Souchard came from France to find gold in California. He eventually struck it rich and decided he didn’t want to go back to France and live under the rule of Louis Napoleon, so he bought the land surrounding a beautiful cove on the Pacific Coast He built a large house and opened it as an inn where travelers on the road from San Francisco to Los Angeles could stop and find a place to stay with clean beds and a dining room that served delicious meals.”

“What did they do for water? There were no city water or sewer lines back then, were there?”

“No, Jerry, but Souchard built his house at the top of a gentle rise with a slope leading down to the beach, and through some geological trick of nature, there was a large lake, fed by underground springs, that provided an everlasting supply of fresh water for his inn. That lake provides fresh water to this day.”

“Cool!”

“Anyhow, Jerome prospered and made his inn more beautiful than anyone could imagine. The dining room was transformed into a ball room with crystal chandeliers, floor to ceiling mirrors, and a terrace that overlooked the cove and the sea.”

“Steps led from the tavern down to a sandy beach where the ladies and gentlemen of the 1860s and 1870s could promenade, or sit in the sun and just relax, if they wanted to break their journey As the 19^th century came to an end, the inn lost its popularity M. Souchard died and Mme. Souchard put the property up for sale and took her children and went to live in New York City.”

“My great-grandfather bought the inn, and built some small cottages, three on each side of the main house, and he turned the inn into a resort area for people who wanted to get away from the city for a few days.”

“Sounds like quite a place, my love!”

“Oh, it gets better. My grandfather was interested in theatricals, so at one end of the ballroom, he had a large turntable installed, so that if actors were putting on a play, they could erect partitions so that when one scene was finished, the table could be revolved, and the setting for the second scene would appear.”

“Mmm! Mmmm! I’d like to see this place some day.”

“You know, Jerry, when I get out of the Marines I have an idea of what I’d like to do with it, but…”

“Yes, Trace?”

“….But, I’m going to need a partner.”

“Trace, I’m putting my hand up, … if you want me,” Jerry said with a hopeful look.

“Do I want you? DO I WANT YOU? I do, I do. I want you for my partner, now and always.”

(Still more sounds…)

“Trace, as long as we’re here, I want to put my hand up… so just roll over, there’s a good chap!”

“Oooooh! What are you going to do?”

“Well, first I’m going to…., like so… and then…”

“Oooooh! So good, so…., just ….., up and down… Aaaahh!”

Trace began to ‘get into the moment’ and Jerry changed his position.

Trace began to buck up and down.

Jerry began to pay attention to Trace’s cheeks.

Trace began to moan. “Put it in, Jerry, put your sword in my sheathe!….Now! Jerry, now. I want you in me. NOW!’

There was no more talking while Jerry fucked Trace so hard that Trace half feared, half hoped that Jerry’s pleasure-pole would tickle the back of his throat.

 “Aaaaahhhh! Aaaahhh!” Jerry exclaimed as his creamy seed coated Trace’s innards.

“Aaahhhhh!  Ooooohhh!” Trace echoed his lover as he too shot his spunk into the air and onto the bed.

(And yes, still more sounds of prolonged kissing, and licking and sighing and moaning in pleasure).

Later that day, while the two lovers were having lunch in the hotel’s dining room, Jerry asked, “What was the plan you said you had for the hotel?”

“Ah, Jerry,” answered Trace. “I’ve seen on the Internet that a number of hotels and motels are opening up for people...like us, and I thought…”

“And you thought you’d like to open such a hotel for people …’like us?’ Hmmm. I think it’s a good idea,” Jerry smiled and squeezed Trace’s arm. “You could advertise on some of the gay websites, and you could…”

Trace interrupted him, and said, “Not me…, Us! I said I want you as a partner, and in fact, I’ve been thinking. I don’t want you just as a business partner, I want you, Jerry Taylor, to be my….life partner. If you’ll have…”

Trace never finished his sentence because Jerry got up from his seat, went round the table, pulled Trace out of his seat, and kissed him full on the lips, right in front of six other diners and two waiters, all of whom smiled and laughed quietly for the two men who were ‘sealing it with a kiss.’

“Trace Mackenzie, I accept your proposal. I love you,” Jerry said, and then he turned around, faced the others in the dining room, took Trace’s hand and raised it in the air, and said, “Gentlemen, Trace Mackenzie and I, Jerry Taylor, take great pleasure in announcing our engagement!”

Everyone in the room applauded, and when the clapping had subsided, one of the waiters followed by all of his co-workers and the cooks came out of the kitchen with a small cake, topped by two candles, and presented it to the couple.

“Sirs, this is with the compliments of the management. Many, many happy returns of this day!” the headwaiter exclaimed.

Back to earth, Trace and Jerry made plans. They were both going to finish their tour of duty in about six months. They had saved their money and they felt they would be able to bring the old family home up to speed.

Trace told Jerry that when he was last in the states, he had hired a combination handyman and house-sitter (or hotel-sitter), to keep an eye on things, and make any repairs necessary.  That’s me, dear readers, Andy Tate from Indianapolis, or “Andy from Indy’ as I call myself.

He thought that in the winter months they could also advertise the hotel as a conference center.

I had sent Trace some pictures of the hotel, and when Jerry saw them, he had an idea of his own. “Those cottages or lodges, could be rented out as ‘luxury lodgings’ for men who wanted to pay a little extra. What if we advertised for some young men who would be willing to act as ‘valets’ or ‘gentleman’s gentleman’ or ‘companions’ to the guests, one for each guest? Perhaps, if they had some ability to sing and dance, they could put on some sort of entertainment in the evening.”

“What do you mean ‘companion?’” asked Trace.

“I had in mind someone who would bring morning coffee to the guest, keep the room neat, and be a table companion at lunchtime.”

“You don’t mean ‘bed-companion’ do you?” asked Trace.

“No! I mean someone to look after some of the needs of our guests—not all of their needs.”

“I think that might work, Jerry. We’ll have to work out the details of exactly what qualifications these ‘valet-companions-entertainers would have to have…. But I think it’s an idea definitely worth looking into.”

All too soon their R&R leave time was over, and Jerry and Trace had to go back to Iraq to their respective companies. They were able to spend some time together—usually once a week for a few hours. They kept in touch by e-mail.

The times when they could be together did not always allow time for them to express their love physically, but they were together to talk, and plan, and dream.

One day when they were walking together down the streets of the city, Trace saw a little girl crying her eyes out. He went over, and knelt down, and asked her “What’s wrong, young miss?”

“My toy is broken.” she said, and she showed him an old doll, whose legs had become disjointed.

A few quick flicks of the wrist and Trace had fixed her doll, and handed it back to her.

The smile on the little girl’s face went right to Trace’s heart.

When he rejoined Jerry, Jerry said, “That was very nice of you, Trace.”

“Oh, it was nothing. I’m a sucker for children.  I’m never going to have children of my own, but I like to help anyone who has a problem.”

The days sped by into weeks, and the weeks quickly turned into months. Trace sent many e-mails to me (Andy) asking about the condition of the hotel, and what it would take to bring it into tip-top condition. Jerry and Trace decided on how each of the guest cottages were to be painted and decorated, and they sent me detailed instructions.

Finally Trace and Jerry had reached the last week of their tour. This time next week they would be flying home. They had a few hours of free time and they decided to go out for a ride in a jeep. The country surrounding the two bases was quiet. They enjoyed a quiet ride to a small hill, where they stopped and talked.

“Trace, I don’t think I will ever be happier than I am right now.”

“I know, Jerry, I feel the same way. I love you so much.”

They started back to the camp, and on the way they saw a little girl by the side of the road, crying.

“Stop, Jerry. I want to see what’s wrong.”

“Be careful, Trace. We’re still a couple of miles from our two camps.”

“Oh, it’s all right, Jerry.”

Trace got out of the jeep and started towards the little girl. As he walked towards her a cell phone rang.

The last thing Jerry saw was his love walking toward the girl, but on the third ring, there was an…. EXPLOSION.

Then NOTHING.

BLACKNESS.

NOTHING.

“Trace, where are you?”

NOTHINGNESS.

“Trace, I can’t see you.”

DARKNESS.

“Trace! Answer me. Please. Trace.”

BLACKNESS. NOTHINGNESSS, QUIET

To be continued...

Posted: 06/12/09