The Lifeguard

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.

Copyright c 2000 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author.

THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 18

We settled into a routine. Annie and I went to work. Eric went to school, and Tina was doing "The steps".

Bill brought Eric a check for $20 million for his part in the Milton deal. Eric's only comment was "This is the last money I'm going to accept. That's it! If I make any worthwhile suggestions, you sure as hell aren't going to pay me for them."

Later, he admitted to me that he really didn't want the money, but had taken my advice and accepted it gracefully.

He had met with the local executives who had contacted him and received some great offers. They would all have to wait until he graduated from school, however.

Tina was ecstatic when she found the tennis courts on the forgotten "back forty".

Annie was immersed in running Chateau, and I got deeply involved in the integration of Milton into Metalco.

One evening, Annie was out, Tina was at a meeting, and Mary had left our dinner warming.

"Let's turn off the stove and go out," Eric suggested.

"Fine by me," I said.

"Remember that place down by the beach with the great greasy hamburgers?" he asked. "How does that sound?"

"Great," I agreed, and we took off.

He parked at the beach instead of closer to the restaurant, which was puzzling until he suggested that we take a walk on the beach before dinner.

We left our shoes in the car and walked arm in arm along the water's edge. The place was deserted except for some activity way up the beach. It looked like a big party.

We moseyed in that direction, stopping to hug or kiss in the darkening twilight. It was a quiet, together time.

As we approached the activity on the beach, it was clear that it was some sort of party. As we got even closer, some of the people looked familiar.

I figured that we would walk around the group, but I started seeing faces that I KNEW! When I spotted Annie, I knew something was up.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's our anniversary, dummy," was Eric's reply.

I stopped and looked at him, puzzled. "I didn't know which date to use," he said, "so we used the most important night of my life, the night you told me you loved me."

For the first time in my adult life, I totally lost control. Tears streamed down my face as I looked into his eyes. His words were the most beautiful I'd ever heard.

He took me in his arms and held me while I sobbed. I'm sure he hadn't expected my emotional reaction.

When I regained my composure, he got the biggest, wettest, sloppiest kiss that I had ever given him.

We'd been spotted. It was partytime!

Our families were there as well as a lot of our friends, both gay and straight. Lifeguards were everywhere. My buddy Dan had one on each arm.

Everyone congratulated us, and everyone had a story - about how they'd either thought we'd make it as a couple, or how we wouldn't. If they were being honest, it was about 50-50.

From Jim Wilson on down, Eric was treated as a long-lost brother by his lifeguard buddies. Surprisingly, to me, they were aware of his "fame" and teased him about knowing him "when".

"I didn't know you had a brain," Billy teased, "I always thought you were a dumb jock like the rest of us."

In bed, it was obvious what Eric wanted. On his back with his knees drawn forward said it all.

"A lot's changed in the last year," I told him. "A year ago I wouldn't have been up to this."

"A year ago, I didn't know how good it could be, either," he answered.

Long slow strokes took us to the edge. I backed off, and we repeated the process until neither of us could stand any more. With our lips locked, we flew over the edge together, groaning and thrashing uncontrolably.

"Let's do this again 25 years from tonight," Eric suggested when we disengaged.

"In twenty five years, I probably won't be able to get it up," I told him.

"There's Viagra now," he said, "which you definitely don't need, and by then they'll probably have something a lot better if you need it. Hell I'll probably need some help too!"

What a night, I thought as I lay there in Eric's arms. What a man I had in my life. Smart, sensitive, caring and even sentimental. If the first year was any indication, maybe we would be one of those rare couples who DID spend the rest of their lives together. I went to sleep with a smile on my face. April 12th would forever be the most important day of the year.

I had been optomistic all along, but Milton's first month's performance under our management was phenominal. This in spite of the fact that we weren't entirely sure that all the leaks had been plugged.

We had changed accounting procedures so that each plant was a profit center and could be analyzed down to the last nut and bolt used. Some installations performed extremely well, others marginally. We'd be taking a hard look at the marginal ones and be making changes.

In many cases, plant capacity wasn't being fully utilized. Our sales people would be working with the Milton staff to remedy this.

Plans were underway to move most management and administrative functions to our headquarters. This created a problem - space. We were already bursting at the seams in the building we were in, and adding 500 people to the existing 2,500 would be impossible. Options open to us were to lease space in other downtown buildings, or to move everything to larger quarters.

Since our headquarters building was the largest in downtown, that meant that we'd have to build something new if we wanted everybody in one place.

Several years ago, some land about 15 miles from downtown had been zoned commercial. All the level parcels had been bought up quickly, but the largest one, remote, with hills and huge rocks sat on the market for a long time.

Personally, I thought the land had character and potential, so I bought it for a song. At that time, I had envisioned an office "campus", taking advantage of the terrain, old Oak trees and natural beauty. The 100+ acre parcel had been sitting idle and forgotten since then. Maybe now was the time to look at it.

I brought up my idea at home, first. Eric was enthusiastic, practical Annie had objections, and Tina was unsure. They all wanted to see it, so we hopped into Eric's jeep and went to take a look.

It wasn't far from where we lived, closer than downtown for us. At first glance, it looked pretty sad, but if you looked beyond the overgrown underbrush and weeds, I, at least saw the same potential as I had earlier. With Eric's four-wheeler, we were able to explore the whole thing.

"With imagination and a good architect, you could create something really special," Eric commented.

"But everybody'd have to drive," Annie countered. "There's no public transportation like there is downtown."

"But they wouldn't have to pay for parking," Eric added.

"My idea is low buildings, four stories max," I said, "designed to blend with the surroundings, not stick out like a sore thumb."

"Something like Frank Lloyd Wright would do," Tina said, her first comment. "Have you heard of the Taliesin School in Arizona? They follow his teachings."

"That might be a great idea," I said.

We discussed the pros and cons. Eric and Tina were already in favor of the idea, Annie was skeptical but warming.

I knew that Tina had taken design classes in Paris, so asked her if she'd like to do some of the preliminary work. Her enthusiasm was overwhelming!

Later, at home, Tina pulled me aside. "You're going to trust me with this?" she asked.

"Of course," I told her. "You can get as involved as you want to. Remember, though, this is preliminary. We haven't even decided whether or not we're going to go through with it."

"It means so much to me that you're willing to even let me try," she said. "I won't let you down."

"I'm not worried," I said, then teasing her, "It'll give you something to do besides play tennis."

"You're sly," Eric said when we were alone. "You'll have us all involved in the business in some way, even me if I don't watch out. Did you plan that?"

"No, I didn't," I said. "It just happened naturally. By the way, you're already involved whether you know it or not. Outside of you, business is my life, and since you're a part of me, you're part of that too."

"I know," he said, laughing. "And I love it."

Tina went to work with a vengeance, giving me almost daily progress reports. We shared the concept on how the project should look - enhancing the landscape rather than destroying it. Having something to do, and a goal brought her out of her shell. She bloomed.

We all had our lives, together and individually. Eric had school, and with only a month to go, was working even harder.

Annie and Kevin were inseparable. He was the first guy who had been more than "flavor of the month," and I could tell that they were getting very serious. I waited for the appearance of an engagement ring.

Tina had several things going. Through Annie and Kevin, she'd met a lot of eligible guys and was dating a lot, her "project" and AA/NA took up the rest of her time.

I was more deeply involved in Metalco than I'd ever been, and sat back and watched my "family" flourish.

Yawning and stretching, Eric emerged from one of his marathon cramming sessions. "Just got an interesting phone call," he said.

"Who from?" I asked.

"Ryan," he said. "He's getting married."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic," I observed.

"I think it's a mistake," he said. "I don't think that idiot brother of mine is ready for it. He didn't sound like he's worked out whatever was bothering him when he was here, yet, and I hate to see him do something like this."

"When's the wedding?" I asked.

"A week from Saturday, and he wants me to be best man," he answered. "He wants you there too."

"Do you want to go?" I asked.

"I don't have any choice, do I?" he asked.

"What do your parents think?" I asked.

"Don't know yet," he answered. "Maybe I should go call Dad."

"We can fly up," I said. "Why not invite your Mom and Dad to join us?"

"I'll do that," he said.

"Well?" I asked when he returned.

"They're as surprised as I am," he said. "Dad's pleased - at least one of us is hetero and can carry on the family name. Mom's thinking it over."

"Do they want to go with us?" I asked.

"They said that'd be great," he said. "Damn, the timing couldn't be worse. I have so damned much work to do."

"You could use a couple of days off," I suggested. "You've been hitting it awfully hard."

"Maybe you're right," he said. "Can we break in another hotel?"

"I was going to suggest that," I said.

"No abbreviated version this time!" he said, "We're going to go for the full treatment."

"Get out the grease," I told him, chuckling.

Eric put his doubts aside and made all the plans. We would fly up to San Francisco on Friday afternoon. Friday night Eric was throwing a Bachelor Party for his brother, Saturday was the wedding, and Saturday night was ours. We'd come home Sunday after Brunch. He was almost clinical in his approach, like it was a duty thing. At least he left Saturday night open for us to "play".

On the hour flight, Eric was the perfect host, making drinks and giving his parents a lot of attention. Always the perfect gentleman that I loved so much.

We had two rental cars waiting at the airport. Eric wanted to head straight for his brother, his parents and I would check in at the hotel. No limos for this trip.

We had chosen one of our two hotels in San Francisco. It was one of the most luxurious in the chain. We were expected, and the treatment they gave us was almost fawning. A bit too much, really.

The Lundborgs had a suite and so did we, but they were on different floors. Good. No doubt they knew we engaged in sex, but they didn't have to listen to us.

I took a shower and relaxed on the bed read, and dozed a little.

Eric came in looking thoughtful, sitting down on the bed next to me. "Ryan told me the whole story," he said, "but I don't buy it."

"What did he tell you?" I asked.

"According to him, he met Diane right after he came home from visiting us. He fell in love with her, she fell in love with him, and here we are," he said. "Oh yes, she's three months pregnant, it's going to be a boy."

"What don't you believe?" I asked.

"Ryan's a very deliberate guy. He never rushes into anything. This whirlwind courtship is out of character," he said. "Diane doesn't fit either. She's a debutante from a rich, social family, and he's a goddam hippie for chrissakes, even if he has cut his hair and looks a little more respectable.

"He claims he's ecstatically happy," he continued. "Maybe he is, but I think he's having to work at it. Anyway, I'm going to give him benefit of the doubt, and try to be happy for him."

"You won't be sorry you did," I said.

"I'll give it my best shot," he said, stretching out beside me. "It's his life and really none of my business. At least I know what I want, and have it," he added, taking me into his arms in a loving embrace.

"Everything set for the party tonight?" I asked.

"Yep," he said. "It's going to be at a pub in Ryan's neighborhood. No strippers, just dinner and get good and drunk. Better hit the shower, I stink!"

We dressed and collected Eric's dad. Ingrid, his mom, was having dinner with friends and was on her own. We took a cab.

Ryan greeted me effusively. He looked a lot different with short hair, no beard, and seemed to have put on a little weight. He looked happy enough to me. Maybe Eric was overreacting.

It was pretty much a typical bachelor party, the ribald teasing of the groom about all the "ass" he was going to get. Yech, squishy, smelly, pussy, I thought, but managed to join in. Eric rolled his eyes and winked at me.

Everyone was packing away the booze, fast, even Eric, I noticed. Karl and I sipped. Dinner was homemade Italian, but I think Karl and I were the only ones who really appreciated it.

If the food had sobered anybody up a little, that was quickly remedied, and the guzzling continued. This was the first time I had ever seen Eric even tipsy, and he was far beyond that. The party wound down, and many decided to head home while they still had the ability to find it.

Eric was in no condition to handle the details, so I paid the tab, then Karl and I helped Eric out to the cab.

He awoke with what he described as the "Hangover of the century".

His mother called. "How's my boy this morning?" she asked, giggling.

"Pretty sad," I told her.

"I'd better come fix him up," she said, now laughing.

"Anything to get rid of the moaning and groaning," I said. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet," she answered.

"Bring Karl, and we'll order room service," I suggested.

"We'll be right there," she said.

"That's only the second time I've ever done that," Ingrid said after administering her medicine to Eric.

"I'm not surprised," I said. "He rarely drinks at all."

"But when he does, he really suffers," she said. "That stuff'll kick in in a half hour or so, and he'll be fine."

Eric wasn't interested in food, but the rest of us packed away a huge breakfast.

He gradually returned to the land of the living and ate all the leftovers. "I've got to be there early, so I'd better get ready," he said.

"We had better get started, too," Karl said. "We'll meet you in the lobby at 11:45."

"I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do," Eric said. "Ryan said he'd give me a quick run-through when I get there."

"Just look pretty and don't drop the ring," I advised him.

The Burdette home was more like a palace. Karl and Ingrid were led off to meet the Burdettes and I was ushered into the ballroom where the wedding ceremony was to take place.

French doors lined one side of the room, leading to a terrace and a huge white party tent beyond. The room was filled with flowers, at least $50,000 worth, I'd guess.

The room quickly filled, and the ceremony got started on time, probably the first time that'd happened in recorded history.

Ryan led his groomsmen in from the side, all in their morning getups. Eric, of course, stood out in my opinion. He caught my eye and smiled. His humor about the whole thing seemed vastly improved.

The bridesmaids, in spring pastel outfits, tripped down the aisle and lined up to wait for the bride.

We stood as she came down the aisle on her father's arm, a truly beautiful girl.

The ceremony was mercifully short, and they all trooped out again. The French doors were opened and I followed the crowd outside. Karl and Ingrid were hustled out the other way, for pictures, no doubt.

I wandered until I could find something to lean against and surveyed the milling mob. Oh shit, that can't be Edgar, I thought to myself. It was. He was someone I'd known in college. Didn't particularly care for him then, and I didn't think time would have changed much. He spotted me and rushed over.

"Dave?" he asked.

"Yep, that's me," I said. "How are you, Edgar?"

"Great! You're looking good, Dave. Life's treating you pretty well from what I read in the papers," he gushed. "Never expected to run into you here."

"I'm a friend of the groom," I said.

"Oh yeah, his brother's your whiz kid advisor," he said with a bit of distaste. "Can't say I agree with the way you're doing things, I'm in the Investment Banking racket myself."

Racket, allright, I thought. I didn't respond, merely nodded and smiled.

"Gotta go check on the wife," he said, "we'll get together later and talk about the good old days."

Not if I can help it, I thought.

The receiving line must have gotten set up because the herd was moving in the direction of the tent. I fell in line.

Ryan was beaming and the bride glowed. Both seemed immensely happy. In addition to being beautiful, she was nice. She gave me a hug and thanked me for the wedding present Eric and I had given them - A week at one of the best resorts in the Caribbean for their honeymoon.

Eric was playful, obviously in a very good mood.

The Burdettes were very nice, down-to-earth people. Not what one would expect from people who lived the way they did.

When I got to Karl and Ingrid, Karl begged me to get him a drink, Ingrid shushed him, warning me "don't you dare!"

That done, I looked for a bar myself. I hoped they would have something besides champagne. They didn't.

I found a table, as remote as possible, hoping to avoid Edgar, and waited for Eric.

Eric, Ingrid and Karl joined me after picking up some champagne. Soon after, Anne and Jim, friends of the Burdettes, joined us, leaving two empty places at our table for eight. I hoped they filled up before Edgar found us.

Our luck didn't hold. Edgar and his overdressed wife took the two seats directly across from Eric and me. I tried to make the best of it, introducing Eric and the Lundborgs. Anne and Jim already knew Edgar and his wife but didn't seem any happier about the situation than I was.

We all tried to make polite conversation, but Edgar was determined to talk about our old school days. Actually, I had barely known him then, and certainly didn't have anything to reminisce about. Being one of those 'rah rah' types, he was very active in alumni affairs and bored us to tears with stories that nobody was interested in.

The Burdettes were circulating among the crowd, stopping to talk here and there. When they reached our table, Eric and I got most of their attention. They were very nice, friendly, sincere people.

A few minutes after they wandered on, Eric leaned forward to say something to Jim. My hand was on the table, and he put his over mine, squeezing it. It was such a natural thing that I didn't give it a thought until I glanced over at Edgar. He was staring across the table. I looked down to see what he was staring at and realized that it was Eric's hand on mine.

Instead of pulling my hand away, I turned it to grasp Eric's. That did it.

"Dave! You, of all people! If Mike Burdette knew you were one of those..." Edgar blustered, "he'd throw your ass out of here!"

"I seriously doubt that," I said indifferently.

In a low growl, Ingrid jumped in. "Listen, mister,"she said. "The Burdettes are fully aware of the relationship that exists between my son and Mr. Rush, if that matters. Maybe you'd better leave." She sounded like a lioness protecting her cubs.

"Well, I never..." Edgar blustered some more, totally shot down by Ingrid's dismissal.

Attempting to regain a little dignity, he turned to his wife. "Come on, Momma, let's get out of here before we get contaminated."

They got up and left. Gleefully, I noticed that all the seats were taken and that Edgar and his wife ended up sitting at different tables.

"That man is truly pathetic," Anne observed, and we all agreed.

Eric looked at me and nodded. It didn't have to be spoken. We agreed that there was no way in hell that we would leave, even though cold water had been thrown on our previously high spirits. We'd tough it out.

We all tried to be jovial, but the mood was broken.

The afternoon dragged on. Eric, as best man, toasted the bride and groom, humorously but in perfect taste. The champagne flowed. The cake was cut, the boquet thrown as well as the garter, and finally the newlyweds took off on their honeymoon. The reception was finally over.

Karl and Ingrid were staying to have dinner with the Burdettes, but Eric and I, though invited, left as soon as we could.

"That was nasty," Eric commented on the drive back to The City.

"Don't let it get to you," I cautioned him. "No doubt, it'll happen again."

"Who is that asshole, anyway?" he asked.

"A guy I barely knew in college," I said. "Too much money and not enough class, even then. He wanted to be a member of the group I ran around with, but we couldn't stand him. Even then, he couldn't take the hint and kept trying."

"He sure made a fool out of himself today," he said.

"It didn't go unnoticed," I observed. "Some people may not approve of us, but they sure as hell won't tolerate that type of behavior. Old Edgar will be an outcast again, if he hasn't been one all along."

Back in our room, we changed, and on the way back out, Eric grabbed me. Looking me in the eyes, he said "Smile, dammit, this is OUR night."

We had dinner at Fisherman's Wharf. Touristy, but Crabs were in season and we gorged ourselves. Messy but so damned good it was worth it.

We walked the Castro, hand in hand or arm in arm. There were so many others doing the same thing that it seemed natural, and nice. Too bad we couldn't do this everyplace.

We returned to the hotel feeling mellow, relaxed. I offered to help him make the preparations, but he insisted on taking care of everything himself.

When he led me in, the candles were burning softly and the lights of the city could be seen. We undressed each other and the warmed oil came out and every part of our bodies got covered. We held each other, our hard cocks rubbing, our kisses deep and lingering.

Moving to the bed, our bodies glided against each other, sensuously. We held, fondled and rubbed, rolling around and enjoying the sexy slickness.

I took his wonderful cock in my mouth, but the oil tasted terrible, so sucking wouldn't work. Instead, I slipped between his legs, and with a little more oil, stroked his balls and that long cock that I loved. "Just lie back and enjoy," I suggested.

With both hands, I stroked up and down, twisting and turning as I went, paying special attention to the spots that I knew turned him on.

Our eyes were locked, and when his glazed a bit, I changed my tactics, going back to his balls, allowing him to cool down. I repeated this, bringing him to the brink, then backing off several times. He nodded, and I knew he wanted me to let him go over the edge the next time.

I didn't rush him, kept my pace slow and easy, even when he was approaching the edge. Even closer, I watched his eyes, still stroking slowly, he tensed, then lost control. As his dick throbbed and shot load after load, he writhed uncontrollably. I kept going. He stopped shooting and spasming, then started all over again. It was an awesome sight. Cum beaded on his oily chest, and I leaned forward to lick some up. Sweet as ever.

Aftershocks wracked his body as he settled back, drained.

I moved to my knees and gave my own dick a few strokes. That's all it took, and my cum joined his.

We were a cum covered, greasy mess, but man, it had been worth it. Eric still lay there, a quivering mound of flesh, attempting to gain control over his twitching limbs.

We were both having longer, more intense orgasms all the time, but this time, Eric's had gone on forever.

"I can't believe what just happened," he groaned. "Two, distinctly, and a hint of a third. How long was I thrashing around for, anyway?"

"A couple of minutes, at least," I told him.

"Orgasms just aren't supposed to last that long!" he added. "You've been having some rather lengthy ones yourself, lately. Maybe we ought to time them."

"Who's going to man the clock?" I chuckled. "I don't think either one of us are in any condition to do that while it's happening."

"I guess you're right. It'd be too much of a distraction," he said.

We showered and scrubbed off the oil and dried cum. On the way out, Eric commented "I think I have an idea."

"About what?" I asked.

"Timing our orgasms," he said.

"Well, tell me," I said.

"No, let's wait until we 'break in' another hotel, and we can try it then," he said.

Every night, I had another envelope full of phone messages to take home to Eric.

After the initial excitement of his instant fame wore off, reality set in. He had a lot of doubts, and he discussed them with me.

"I got lucky," he said. "I made a few suggestions that seemed obvious to me, and you tried them out and they worked. I'm not so sure that I can come up with a repeat performance on command."

He felt that he didn't have enough knowledge about other companies to do the same thing again. To that, I pointed out that he really didn't know that much about Metalco, either, and that much of the help he'd given us would fall into the generic category and apply to any business.

I likened what he had done to "troubleshooting", looking at the problem and coming up with an obvious solution when everyone else was making a complicated issue out of it.

"First," I suggested, "find out what these guys want, then decide if it's something you're interested in doing."

"I'm not a miracle worker, and don't want to set myself up as one," he said. "That would only get me into deep trouble."

"Take your time," I advised. "You don't have to rush into anything. Check out all your options."

"One option I DON'T have," he said, very seriously, "is to take a job or assignment out of town. If it's a real short assignment, I might consider it, but nothing long term. I want to be able to come home to you every night. No, I HAVE to come home every night."

I didn't want to be without him, either, but I didn't want him to pass up any opportunities. "See what's out there first, then decide," I suggested.

This conversation bothered me. Eric was young and inexperienced. His only real contact with "big business" was through me, and I understood his hesitancy and insecurity about facing the real world. It was scary, even for me at times.

Change was coming. Usually I welcomed it, but this time I guess this conversation brought out all of my own insecurities.

Although I felt our relationship was strong and secure, I had doubts about the unknown. I guess that goes with the territory - me being older and all. Maybe he'd meet someone more attractive, bigger dick, hell, I had all these things running through my head. What if? What if? What if?

In a year's time I had grown to rely on him. His love, his companionship, and the security of knowing that he'd be there. The mere thought of that ending was more than I could comprehend.

The fact that his finals were coming up didn't help. I hardly saw him. He was at school or holed up in his study working. At night, he'd drop into bed exhausted and our lovemaking suffered.

Of course, this heightened my anxiety and feeling of uncertainty. Nothing he said or did gave me any reason to have doubts. They were all self inflicted, and as hard as I tried, I'm sure he noticed some change, but in my paranoia, I felt he didn't care enough to notice.

My fear and anxiety grew, building on itself. The smart thing would have been to talk to him and tell him how I felt, but oh no, I couldn't do that! In the meantime, my imagination was running amok.

My unfounded fears became so intense that for all intents and purposes, I ceased to function.

He took his last final. In bed that night, he held me tight. "I'm neither blind nor stupid," he said. "I don't know what's going on with you, but I think we need to talk."

To be continued.

Author's Note: I really appreciate the suggestions I've been receiving from you guys. I'm using most of the ones I receive. I answer all mail, and love to hear from you, and don't mind getting bashed when I make a mistake. orrinrush@yahoo.com

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