Castle Roland

In The Pool

by Jack Scribe, of Honored Memory


Chapter 17

Posted: N/A

After the clandestine evening phone call, I purposely went over to the club pool early Sunday morning before the pool opened. I wanted to get the details of the conversation from the night before between Dave and Phil, and spending a little more time with my love was a nice coincidental benefit. Since it was Sunday, I dressed in a polo shirt and shorts.

I procured two cups of coffee in Styrofoam cups from the club kitchen and found Dave skimming the pool. We sat down at a corner poolside table and quietly smiled at each other. I noticed that his red trunks had started to fade and the crotch was snuggly clutching the contents underneath. He looked hot.

"Sounds like the mission was successful." I stated after taking a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, Phil is cool with it. I get the feeling that Beth and Phil are very liberal in their outlook on life. Plus, his older brother is gay."

"Bonus points, but can we trust him?"

"I'd stake my life on Phil, and he has no axe to grind. That you and I are a couple - and you're an Officer - isn't a concern cuz he's not the gung-ho Navy type. His game plan is to keep his nose clean until he gets out and completes school. We can trust him."

"I value your judgment. So, yeah, I look forward to meeting Beth and Phil as a couple, and in a civilian setting."

"This will be our first 'coming out' event. Are you nervous? I know I am," Dave asked.

"As long as we keep the Navy thing out of it, I'm fine. Isn't it funny? I'm more concerned about being 'outed' as a Naval Officer than being gay."

"Yeah. It's all right if we make love; we just can't defend our country if we've done it and are caught."

"If I'm ever pushed to defend you, Dave, I'll do it just as fiercely as I would my country. And I ain't just whistling Dixie."

"Or, whistling Dorothy," Dave replied as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"It's just that when we go up the yellow brick road, we have to salute." I smiled and felt we had taken another positive step in our lives together.

The week that followed our new town residency move-in was routine. It was the middle of the month and the Club was fairly quiet. Welcome teas and luncheons usually occurred the first week of the month, and the 'hail and farewell' cocktail parties were usually the last week. Because of the large training contingent of aviation navigation Marine Corps and Naval Officers, there were constant turnovers to celebrate and hoist a few.

Tuesday, I ordered telephone service for our apartment and transferred the power and light service to my name. Dave and I visited at the pool daily. Since I had always been active in 'walking the property', the staff didn't suspect anything when I visited the pool area on a routine basis. And, I'd established the daily swimming exercise routine when I first arrived.

We would occasionally grab ass a little in the locker room. Otherwise, the encounters were very reserved. God, how I loved this man. Every day I found new reasons to respect this man in my present and future life.

Thursday, we had a final planning session for the weekend. I had just finished laps and was taking off my Speedo in the locker room.

"Hey, Bud," Dave said as he entered. He then turned and locked the door. His red suit was hugging his tight buns. He walked over and gently placed a kiss on my lips.

"Hey, yourself." I pulled him to me and returned the kiss aggressively. Moving away after a moment, I said, "I think we're all set for the weekend."

"I'm driving down Friday morning to get the apartment squared away some more," he replied with a smile.

"Well, you know my club schedule. I'll get there around 8 p.m. Should we try and do some dinner?"

"Naw, let's concentrate on some quality time together. When I see you in Memphis, the last thing I'm thinking about is eating. Well, maybe eating your ass," he said with a leer while easing out of his lifeguard trunks.

"Your appetite amazes me. But, somehow, I don't think that a tongue up my ass qualifies as part of the food pyramid," I commented to trump his retort.

"Touch." We were both standing nude talking as we would to old friends or teammates.

"Beth and Phil are planning on about six couples for the cookout on Saturday. Although he said not to bring any food, don't you think we should contribute?"

"Let's bring some extra wine. The college parties I've been to seemed to never have enough beverages for the troops."

"Ok, Dave. I'll buy some wine from the Club package store and bring it in Friday night." I thought I also might have some wine samples that I could contribute.

"Let's get some stuff for our place. Maybe some white wine and beer? If you'll pick some up, we can split the costs of the whole thing."

"I can do that. We also need to do a shopping trip to get the apartment squared away with other basic supplies."

"What else other than lube and condoms?" Dave replied with a bashful smile.

I moved closer. "We need more supplies other than those that are for our dicks," I said reaching down and carefully grabbing his warm flaccid cock.

"Hey lover, remember our vow. Hands off the meat in the store," he reminded me, but offered no resistance.

"This isn't a Kroger's. And for your information, in my store the meat's always open for inspection." I grinned as I felt his hands cupping my balls. "Let's call this a mid-week tension breaker. We've been good boys. But if you don't mind, I could use a hot hard sailor in my mouth."

"Yes, Sir. No, Sir. I don't mind as long as I can do the same to an Officer and a Gentleman?"

"Permission granted."


This past weekend with Brent and the two older clients from Little Rock was fun. First, the men were real gentlemen who enjoyed younger intelligent guys for their company. We had entertained them last fall and it was neat to see these two men still in love with each other, and getting off watching us. 'After 25 years together,' I thought, 'if visual stimulation is all they needed and they could afford the fees, why not go for it.'

Second, to perform physically in front of these guys with my hot stud, and trusting friend, was not a chore. Not at all. Brent and I had become very close. We respected each other's talents and value to the organization. Our services, mostly contracted separately and at the highest premium rates, were booked weeks in advance. My concern was what I felt when we were together: an attachment to my 'associate' that was becoming more than just professional.

Growing up in LA had been a combination of being laidback and competing on a fast track. My folks, second generation Italian Americans, were hard workers. Dad was a small wholesale produce grocer, specializing in fruits and vegetables for high-end restaurants. Wolfgang Puck swore by the quality of DiMarco Produce.

Attending Fairfax High, I garnered respectable grades - good enough to pass the SATs and get into UCLA. High school activities were primarily a blur: typical tight group of buddies, intramural sports, and girlfriend relationships that led to occasionally getting laid.

I was the oldest of five children. My next oldest sibling was four years younger. So, I was really an only child during the early impressionable years. Later, my mom and dad looked to me to provide sibling guidance. By the time I was 16 and attending Fairfax High, my two brothers were 12 and 10. At 8 and 6 years of age, the younger sisters brought up the rear. A Catholic family of acceptable-size.

My younger brother was about to enter puberty and I remembered how uncomfortable I had felt during Dad's awkward attempt to enlighten me about sex. Therefore, to get dad off the hook and make it easier on my brothers, I volunteered to educate them about all these changes. Dad was relieved and unhesitatingly agreed.

One evening after dinner, I asked Louie to meet me in my bedroom. I was the only DiMarco kid with his own room. With material saved from the junior high sex education class, I told my younger brother that he was about to experience some drastic changes in his body and voice, as well as height and outlook on the opposite sex. We spent the rest of the evening discussing everything that an 11- year-old boy is ready to absorb.

It was great that he didn't feel embarrassed about our frank talk. We left the meeting with an agreement that Louie could discuss anything when he was confused. A second pact was forged: Louie was to mentor our youngest brother, Freddy, with whom he shared a bedroom. Louie constantly came to me with typical questions of a curious boy and, later, of a teen going through puberty. I was always candid and answered in language that was understood while describing the male and female body parts by the established anatomical names. And, a couple of times when I'd ask Freddy about a point of concern brought to my attention earlier, the youngest was always already informed. Our support system worked.

My buddies and I did the usual dumb things that all teenage guys do. Harmless fun of all kinds - that bordered on reckless behavior. It was fun to go to the Farmer's Market at 3rd and Fairfax to check out the scene and cop an occasional apple 'on the house.' I was also interested in the young writers and actors that hung out there for coffee and kibitzing. At the time, I didn't put two and two together.

At UCLA, signing up for Naval ROTC provided a nice scholarship in return for four years of active duty as an officer. Because money was tight, I lived at home all four years, commuting daily between Fairfax/West Hollywood and Westwood. I did, however, make some great friends at the film school. Yeah, like a lot of other young starry-eyed innocents, I wanted to make films. I met some great contacts that might be valuable after the Navy.

I also met some young men who gently coaxed me out of my subconscious closet. My first time with another male was at the ripe old age of 19. After a heated discussion about the directorial merits of Hitchcock, the other guy - whose name I've forgotten - invited me to continue the debate in his dorm room. After a few beers, this very hot guy started making overtures that I didn't turn down. That was the first night that I kissed another man passionately and got my dick sucked. At that point, however, I was only able to jack the other guy off. 'One step at a time' I recalled. The next steps came a short time later.

During my final two years, I went to the campus gym and followed a regimen that allowed me to pump up to a respectable size without being obviously overly developed. I was also a frequent visitor to the gym because of the not-so-discrete opportunities to meet other young college guys interested in sexual exploration. Because of my ROTC background, I was always very careful when I returned to another guy's room or apartment. And, I continued to meet people who might be of help in my film career, later. I wasn't nave: I filed away these contacts. I also made sure my body would always be an asset.

I graduated on schedule with honors, received a commission in the United States Navy and finally acknowledged to myself that my sexual orientation was definitely homosexual. However, I didn't have the courage to tell my family. 'Sweet Jesus,' I reflected, 'why don't I have the balls to come out to my mom and dad? I guess I'm too chicken - scared of receiving the possible rejection and loss of parental love.'

Upon leaving L.A., I thought about Arnold's signature line, "I'll be back!"

Mike Cole and I had lunch at the Club on Monday. He was a nice guy and I couldn't have asked for a better fellow to share the facilities with at the BOQ. 'I'd like to know him better as a good friend,' I decided.

The Carnival Memphis Court would be a blast. I wondered how many members, of the various clubs we would be visiting, I would recognize as clients? The past two years, since I had been 'discovered' by the grad school guy at the bar, had been one of non-stop 'professional' entertaining. There were times I was running on empty by Sunday evening. But, my bank account stored the rewards.

I was being pressured by Tan Man to find an additional associate and was offered a substantial commission. His business was booming, both in Memphis and larger cities in the South, and he had been very impressed by the addition of Brent to our group. My friend had become very valuable. As I was being pressured to find another star, I thought about two possible candidates. One was Jim Weiss.

Jim was purposely transferred to the main gym facilities so that he would be under my personal supervision. We would 'get together' very soon. The other guy was my new lifeguard for the "O" Club. Dave Swenson was hot with that midwestern wholesomeness. I had picked up some good vibes when we first met while I was pulling OOD duty: while he was doing his best to check me out from behind his shades, my gaydar had tuned into the presence of a fellow homo.

Tuesday was Jim's first day at the main gym. I let the Chief show him around and get him squared away. That afternoon, I casually walked out to the supervisor area where Jim had a desk.

"Hey, Weiss. How's everything going?"

Jim stood and grinned as he said, "It's great, Mr. DiMarco. I'm really going to enjoy this and the Chief has been real helpful. I think that I can make a real contribution for you."

"Listen, Jim. If you play handball, I'd like to invite you to play with me later today. My usual partner cancelled an hour ago."

"Sir, I'm not that good."

"Well, good enough to give it a try?"

"Okay, Sir, if you don't mind a slug as a player," he replied with a laugh.

"What say we meet at court #3 at 1800? The crowd will be thin and we can get in a good workout? I can give you a few pointers along the way." 'And a few jabs with my pointer,' I thought with a smile.

"Yes, Sir," Jim quickly said, "I'll meet you then."

I waved and walked on to my office. I hadn't wanted to rush this, but Tan Man's urgency ramped up the process. At 1730, I went to the general locker room to change for our handball match. I wasn't going to segregate myself in the officer's area. As I finished dressing, Jim entered the locker room.

"Hi, Mr. DiMarco, I see you're ready."

"Jim, first of all, after hours, please drop the 'sir' and 'mister' stuff. On the handball court, when we're alone, it's Doug and Jim. Ok?"

"Sure...Doug. I'll remember that. Meet you on the court?"

"Yeah. Court #3. See you in five." I left the locker room, all the while thinking that I would love to have stayed as Jim changed. I'd only seen him in lifeguard trunks at the club.

On the court, he played aggressively for his level, but I could have easily skunked him. Instead, my play was competent and instructive, with the score just far enough ahead so as not to discourage my opponent. I would stop occasionally and offer suggestions. If we were going to work together, my mentoring would be like that of a big brother. He would have to be a quick learner though.

An hour later, sweating profusely, we left the court. "Jim, I really enjoyed the match."

"If you enjoy whipping the ass of a beginner, then you're a masochist. I was really awful," he said in a-matter-of-fact conclusion. "Thanks for your patience and help. I learned a lot."

Returning to the locker room, I asked, "How about us relaxing our muscles in the sauna bath? We really have a good one here." At 1900, the population in the gym was pretty sparse.

"Sounds good. I'll meet you there." We split to our separate locker areas.

I arrived first with a towel wrapped around my waist, and with some lotion and a condom package cupped in my hand. I was on a mission. As I suspected, there were very few men in the locker area at this hour. Perfect. Opening the sauna door and after getting used to the first blast of hot air, I entered and closed the door. I climbed to the upper seating level, sat down and opened my towel to free my crotch and hide the 'materials' under the flap. Sweat appeared almost immediately.

Moments later, the door opened. Jim, also with a towel wrapped around his waist, entered. "You beat me here," he said with a smile while quickly glancing at my package. He also sat in the upper level, at the opposite end, but kept his towel wrapped around his mid-section.

"Jim, relax and enjoy. This is the best part of a workout," I said as I casually 'adjusted' myself. Jim noticed. His towel naturally fell to the sides of his perspiring tight body.

"That was a fun handball match. You really showed me a lot."

"It was, and I can show you a lot more." 'Man, do I want to show him more,' I thought.

The temperature started to become oppressive. "Why don't we take a short cold shower to cool off and come back for a little more torture?" I suggested almost innocently.

"Sure, Doug, let's go for it." With that we both left our towels in the sauna and took a detour into the showers. I couldn't help but notice that Jim was a little aroused. His flawless tight muscled body and boyish features would make him a very popular guy in our line of work.

We took a short shower with cold water and returned to the sauna. It was 1930 and the locker room was almost deserted. The building was normally secured with last call at 2000, so I didn't have much time left to make my move.

As we sat on our towels, crotches exposed, I looked at him and smiled. "Jim, I hope that you don't have any uncomfortable feelings about being in here with me?"

"I left rank at the door, per your suggestion," he replied with a wide grin.

Slowly, we both started sweating. Fortunately, I knew that the sauna automatically shut off at 1940, and the temperature would not be overwhelming. Like a jock relaxing after a workout, I leaned back and spread my legs. Sweat started beading on my skin and the stillness in the cedar-lined room was interrupted by a wet rubbing sound when I started stroking my cock. This did not go unnoticed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jim start to manipulate his manhood. In no time, we were both at full-blown hardness.

"Houston," I said in a low-toned huskiness, "it looks like we have a problem."

"Yeah," he said as he continued stroking himself.

Scooting over with my towel, I sat next to him. "Jim, I am a problem-solver. Do you have any objection to solving problems?" I said as I matched his stroke speed with my hand on my own cock looking into his dark eyes.

"No, no objection."

I reached over, grabbed his sweat-slicked tool and took over the stroking.

With a slight shutter and gasp, a sly seductive expression crept over his red glistening face. "Are we going to get into trouble?" he asked.

"Not unless you tell," I replied looking into his eyes sincerely.

"No, I like this. It's just something I didn't expect." He reached for my hard cock and did the same for me.

Leaning over, I brought my lips to his mouth. He was eager in his response. While we were slowly stroking each other, we seriously sucked tongues. While we were kissing, each of our free hands was exploring the other's sweaty body.

"Jim, I want to be inside you. I want to fuck you," I said with a commanding growl.

"I'd love that, but we have to be safe. Do you have any rubbers?"

"I have. And some lube."

"An Officer and a boy scout...always prepared...I like that," he said with a chuckle and a glint in his eye.

"Funny what you can learn at scout camp." We were both very hard and I congratulated myself on the accuracy of my gaydar.

"Give me the rubber," he assertively demanded.

I handed him the sealed Trojan package. He tore it open and expertly placed in on my sweat-laden tip and rolled it down the length of me. I watched him in amazement as he grabbed my lube and started to prepare himself for my entry. 'This guy's no beginner,' I thought as I watched him smear his asshole with copious amounts of lube and probe himself.

"Doug, jump in when you're ready," Jim said with authority. He brought my hand to his ass and offered himself. I didn't have to be pushed.

I poured more lube on my hand and entered him with two fingers. Shortcuts were necessary because of time and the public location. My ears were trained to hear any movement outside as I replaced the two fingers with three. I knew that he needed the stretching for me to enter with minimum exertion. I also felt that he was no stranger to objects up his ass.

There was a slight grimace when I started to loosen him more aggressively. Soon, the tension was gone. Groaning in an approving way, Jim said, "Oh, fuck me, Sir...Doug. I'm more than ready."

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