THE MEDIC Chapter 2 by Ben Ezra Jacobson
We had left port two weeks ago after having new electronic systems added to our submarine. Commander Tom Buesking had invited me to spend our shore leave with him for a few days where we had bicycled to a mountain top to see the view. It was fantastic to say the least. We ate lunch at a mountain top restaurant which surely has some of the world's best sandwiches and fries. The portions were so huge that I fed a good portion of mine to one overly friendly sea gull who adopted me as his best friend...well, next to Tom of course. Later, back at our Inn, the commander' and the doctor'...got much better acquainted. We had quite a few uplifting' activities and some in depth' conversations. When it came time to pay our tab, he insisted on paying for everything...telling me that we would split the bill on our next outing. I knew that we were likely destined to become very good friends.
When we returned to the vessel, he went to the bridge and I went to the dispensary where I am Doctor Jason Horn...ships physician and on occasion...pinch hit as stress over load counselor. Our commander came to the dispensary the first night we were back out to sea and inquired if anyone was in sick bay. I told him that everyone was well to the best of my knowledge. "Good," he had replied and backed me up against the facility door, removed his hat, and kissed me twice...telling me that he loved me. Then smiling happily, he turned and left the dispensary. Although our friendship had been forged fast and we had enjoyed a torrid and erotic week end together...I felt like his comments to me were given in good faith...and that he did have a genuine affection for me.
I continued to treat the sailors who came to see me for anxiety overload. Most of them wanted to lie on my exam table while I massaged their prostate glands and gave them a slow jerk with lubricant. They would get aroused quickly, moan and twist while I stimulated them...and ejaculate furiously in just a few short strokes. The commander was aware of this...but seemed to think that moral on his sub had never been higher since I came aboard. Interestingly enough...he himself would arrive about 23:00 hours for the same treatment...only he wanted to reciprocate in kind. Each time he left...he would first back me up against the dispensary door, kiss me several times, usually while he cupped my hardware...and tell me he loved me. If actions speak louder than words...I am sure he was telling me the absolute truth.
This evening on arriving, he sat down in a chair next to my desk, removed his hat...and was aglow with smiles and enthusiasm.
"Any patients this evening doctor," he asked?
"No sir," I replied, "I am quite alone tonight."
"Good..., Jason. We will be going to a port off the southern coast of England in seven days. I would like you to accompany me on a sight seeing tour while our sub is having some upgrades."
"England, huh," I repeated. "I've always wanted to go to England. What kind of restrictions will we have to follow?"
"This will get you. None. When we leave ship, we will be pretty much unrestricted. Why?"
"You mean we could rent a car and go anywhere we wanted to," I ask.
"Well, I guess...but London won't let you call on the Queen," he responded with a sheepish grin.
"Good one," I shot back. I was thinking more of...like driving to Land's End in Cornwall?"
"That's a nice drive," Tom replied. "I was there five or six years ago. It's about 250 miles from Portsmouth to Land's End, and we drove it in about five hours."
"Then, Commander, with your permission...that is where I would like to go...and I am willing to make it worth your time," the doctor replied...raising his eyebrows and giving them a good flexing.
"Oh yes," Tom answered back..."You're going to make it very much worth my time...and I, yours."
He leaned over and kissed the doctor on the lips.
"Hey, Doc...want to lock the door and make it worth my time right now?"
"Yes," the doctor replied.
Tom stood up, unbuckled his pants and dropped them and his skivvies to the floor. Jason reached out and took the large penis into his hands just as the dispensary phone rang.
"Doctor Horn," he said into the mouth piece. " Yes, as a matter of fact he is here...one moment please."
Jason passed the phone to Tom. While the commander spoke to the sailor on the other line...Jason popped Tom's dick into his mouth. It became hard as a rock instantly.
"Can't you handle it yourself, Morgan," he asked in an irritated voice. "Very well...I will be there in a minute or two."
He hung up the phone and turned to Jason.
"Duty calls, Jase...another minute and a half and I would have shot my load."
"Can't you delay just for another minute," Jason asked.
"Well, maybe if we hurry," Tom replied.
Jason went down on the commander and gave him another minute and a half of wet sucking. Tom ejaculated fast and furious. He shook all over as he gave Jason a mouth full. Quickly Jason handed him a urinal to clear his urinary track of semen residue, blotted the end and pulled himself together. Jason spit the ejaculate into the urinal and told him that he would see to it's disposal.
The commander gave the doctor a quick kiss, told him he tasted of cum...and stepped through the door. The doctor, laughing as he exited...took care of the disposal of the evidence.
The doctor was lying in his birth at 24:00 hours when a light tap came to his door. Standing in only his skivvies...he answered the door. The commander of the sub came back through and kissed him again when the door was shut.
"I left some business unattended," he said.
He backed the doctor to his birth...and when Jason was lying on his back...the commander pulled off his skivvies...and pitched them at the foot of his bed. He situated himself between the doctor's legs...and laying on his stomach...went down on the doctor's rock hard cock. It did not take much manipulation to get him to shoot his load as he moaned and wiggled under Tom's administrations.
Spitting the load once more into a urinal...he kissed the doctor again on the lips.
"Now who tastes like semen," he said?
Jason put his arms around Tom's shoulders.
"We could lock the door and you could stay all night."
"Tempting," Tom replied, "But not a good idea. If anyone goes to my cabin and finds me missing...they might just figure out that I am here with you. We, neither of us, need that kind of publicity. Besides, it is kind of fun being part of a mystery."
"Your right," Jason answered back. "But when we are on shore leave, I want to lay in your arms like last time."
Tom pulled him close and held him tight for just a minute.
"That gives us both something to look forward to, buddy."
Tom walked to the door while Jason put his skivvies back on...and opening the door...looking both ways to see if he had been observed entering the dispensary...winked at the doctor and stepped out, into the hall way...closing the door behind him.
Jason thought he would not sleep a wink for the excitement of having a week shore leave... But, fluffed his pillow, pulled the sheet up over him...and went soundly to sleep.
We docked at Portsmouth, England on a Sunday evening. One of the first things we did was to check on car rentals. The best the rental place could do for us was a small compact on Monday morning. Tom had said that it was just as well because in England, the traffic flow went on the left side of the road rather than on the right as we had done in America. I had not ever driven in a foreign country. Fortunately, Tom had had some experience. We calculated the distance to Land's End in Cornwall at roughly 250 miles and it was suggested that it would be a five hour trip. Fifty miles per hour. Probably fairly accurate considering the vehicle that we would have at our disposal.
"Jason...are you in a hurry to get there," Tom had asked.
"Yes and No...I am excited to get there...but I want to see the English countryside as well," I had responded. "It is likely that I will get back here someday...but in case that doesn't happen...I want to see as much as I can."
"Well buddy, I would wager that you will be back many times before your career ends," Tom said. "Since we do not get a car until morning...let's find an Inn to stay at...of course unless you would rather stay on board the sub."
I grinned back at him as if to say...sure...who wouldn't want to spend another night in confinement on the sub. We had a list of Inns and Pubs in which to select accommodations. After reading the reviews...we selected the Red Ox on Cubby-moor-side. It was like walking into a Charles Dickens's novel. The exterior was a white stucco over brick with the wide board moldings at all the seams. A big wooden sign hung over the front door with a Red Ox on the front. It could have been there for centuries...but likely not as it didn't seem too worn from the wind and rain. Inside, the interior was all wood panels...dark with heavy beams across the ceiling. The windows had leaded glass with the panes in vertical diamond shapes. Wall sconces and small lamps at all the tables were already lit for the evening traffic of lodgers and diners. At the front desk...a bespectacled elderly gentlemen with snow white hair waited on us. Sensing that
we were navy men on leave...he spoke to us in American English. He was kind and friendly and set on accommodating us with the best service he could provide.
"Allo Chaps...be need'n a room, would you? How long will you be staying with us," he asked.
"One night," Tom answered back. "Leaving for Cornwall in the morning."
"Rightly so, Sir," the clerk said as he checked his vacancies. "Most of our guests leave on Sunday...so we can give you anything you want. One or two beds, attached baths with all. Starts at twenty five pounds for a single with standard size, thirty five pounds for a double."
I looked at Tom and shrugged. The clerk looked at me and smiled.
"I've never been to England before," I shared. "This is all a new adventure for me."
"Right-o," he said. "We'll do our best to make ye comfortable."
Tom smiled at me and said to the desk clerk, "We'll take the two bed larger room."
"Very good sir," the desk clerk responded. Tom handed him two twenty pound notes and the clerk made change."
A bell hop grabbed our duffles and motioned towards the stairs, "This way gentlemen."
We ascended the stairs to a darkish landing also veneered in paneling. A lighting fixture over head was the sole source of light. He unlocked the door, carried our duffle bags into the room and deposited them on the luggage stands. Despite the ancient look of the lobby, the room was bright and cheery. There were two beds against the feature wall and a bank of windows on the farthest wall that looked out over the harbor. The bathroom had a claw foot tub and the fixtures were obviously from the 1920's or 1930's...but everything was clean and in order.
Tom gave the bell hop a fiver and he turned to leave.
"Well, what do you think," he asked me?
"Hard to say...but I hope Charles Dickens and Jane Austen don't come calling at our door," I said with a chuckle.
After a quick unpacking and a even quicker face and hand wash...we went back down stairs for dinner. The restaurant was equally as quaint as the lobby had been...but interestingly enough...the food was quite good. We ordered the special which consisted of a sampling of many wonderful English dishes. It was not until we returned to the room that I learned from Tom that the Chicken Pot Pie that I so greatly enjoyed was in reality beef and kidney pie. Then going for the old proverbial joke of how is the best way to cook kidneys...the answer was to 'boil the piss out of them.' I did not feel too well for the rest of the evening.
"How about a nice soak in the tub," Tom asked me..? "I'll draw the water."
The claw foot tub was not as large as the Jacuzzi had been at our last shore leave...but since the faucets and water spigot were in the middle of the side rather than at each end...we were both able to enjoy the water at the same time. I sat on one end with Tom at the other. His legs were over the top of mine. I leaned back to enjoy the warmth of the water. He had lit some of the candles that had been placed in holders on the counter by the staff. He had snapped off the electric lights before stepping into the tub...and had turned on a transistor radio he had brought along. Although the sound was a bit tinny, the candle light and the warm water worked miracles on the queasiness I had after learning about eating kidneys at supper.
After a fifteen minute soak, Tom leaned forward and cupped my testicles in his hands. I don't know if everyone is like me...but I really enjoy having my balls fondled. Even though my endowment is only average...when in a shower or bath tub with warm water, my scrotum relaxes and I have low hangers with the best of them. He knew that as he gently caressed them. I lay back and enjoyed his hands causing them to tingle. At one point...he took his finger nails and lightly traced the figure eight on my perineum...before descending to softly tease my anal sphincter. I was hoping he would push in...but he did not. Instead, he moved upward and ran his fingers through my pubic hair. My erection kept getting in the way. Finally he took it in hand and massaged the skin around it. Although I am circumcised...the flexibility felt as good as if I had not been.
"Tom, you had better take it easy...or I am going to contaminate the bath water with seminal fluid," I said grinning from ear to ear.
"We can't have that, now can we," he responded. "Why don't you stand up for a minute."
I did so, and he pushed my cock into his mouth. His tongue ran all over the underneath seam. It was like an intense, erotic, electrical shock. I gasped.
As much as I wanted to ejaculate, I did not want to loose the element of anticipation. I pulled out and clamped my hand tight over the shaft. Hopping out of the tub...I slipped and slid to the commode where a urine stream cleansed the passage way and stopped any momentary sensations of a release.
"Don't you want to shoot your load," Tom asked me?
"Yes, I do," I responded...but not this way. I want some lengthy intimate time with you first and then shoot my load."
"Come back to the bath," Tom said to me.
I slipped back into the water and this time leaned forward to play with his hardware and get him aroused. It did not take long. He was at full mast almost the minute I touched him. Running my hands along his inner thighs...he spread his leg, bent at the knees, as far as he could within the confines of the tub...and I rolled his balls around in my hands before teasing his anal orifice.
"Push in," he said after soaping the area generously.
I did so...ramming my finger as deep as I could. He leaned back against the bath and clamped down on my finger with his sphincter. The tip of my finger teased his prostate gland. Precum started leaking from the head of his penis and floating to the top of the water. I pulled back as far as I could with out coming out and pushed in again. Tom moaned with delight.
"Who would ever think that a finger up some guy's ass could feel so good," he said. " The only thing that could improve that would be some lube to make it slide easier."
If you want to step out...we can certainly do that," I replied.
He pulled my finger out and stood up. Turning around, he leaned forward with his bent elbow allowing his arms to rest on the end of the porcelain bath.
"Now take the Vaseline that I sat on the floor at your end of the tub and put some of that on my sphincter," he said.
I did so and slid my finger in again, then pulled back and slid in again.
I repeated the action again and again. Each time, Tom would push back against my hand and moan with pleasure.
"Jason, try two fingers," he instructed.
"Are you sure," I hesitated, "you're awfully tight and it could hurt like hell."
"No it won't," he reassured me, "I've taken a dildo bigger than that."
I was amazed at this sudden confession.
" With another guy helping you," I asked.
"No, when I was married," he continued, "I bought her a strap on and asked her to use it on me...and she did at first."
"And," I queried.
"She said it made her feel 'queer'," he continued, "It was a short time later that she began to talk about our going our separate ways. I think she thought that I had some guy helping me with it...but honestly...can you imagine a guy with a strap on..? What would be the point."
"Do you still have it," I asked?
"No," Tom responded. "I detached the appliance from the harness and used it on myself until it become so discolored that it seemed unsanitary. I finally discard it to the trash and bought a better dildo for my own pleasure."
"You rascal, You," I said to him and gave him a hard slap across the butt.
"Oh," he said flinching, "I'll give you an hour to quit that."
I laughed, but he had surprised me with the story line. Lubing both fingers, I put them on the opening and slowly pushed in. Tom wiggled all over the place. He was enjoying it to the max.
"Do you want to try three fingers," he asked?
I did as he asked...but it was too uncomfortable. I pulled out when he asked me to do so...relieved to think that he was assuredly not into fisting.
As nice as a bath is...I hate the soap scum that wants to cling to your skin when you get out. We looked around the room for a container that we could put water into and then gradually wash the residue from our bodies. I would rinse him and he would rinse me. After opening a few drawers by the sink, we found a flexible rubber hose that attached to the tub spigot. It had a miniature shower head on the end. With the water running warm, I rinsed Tom's body and he did the same for me. We dried each other with warm fluffy towels that were laying over a towel bar that blew warm air. For as old fashioned as the hotel was...this modern convenience was beyond the call of duty. We were grateful for it.
I mopped up the floor with another towel so we would not slip and take a fall later...and after blowing out the candles...joined Tom on the bed.
"We must remember to turn back the other bed and mess up the pillows before we leave so it will look like we slept apart," he reminded me. "We don't want to give the staff something to gossip about."
"Do you really think they care," I asked with a chuckle. "I am sure we are not the only men who have enjoyed some naked time together in this room."
"Turn out the light doc...and get yourself over here in my bed...I want to have some naked time with you right now."
He was lying right in the middle of the bed and directed me to climb over top of him and let my cock hang in his face. I love to sixty-nine and did not waste any time in getting into position. We sucked each other and caressed each other, kissed each other and stimulated each other to have an orgasm and ejaculation. After cleaning up a bit with a wash cloth and warm water...we returned to the one bed where we snuggled up against each other and soon were fast asleep.
There is hardly anything that feels as good as being so close to someone you love, as being able to feel their rib cage move against your flesh as they breathe. Tom had his left arm extended under my neck, cradling my head and the other arm over my chest, holding me tightly against him. Every once in awhile he would lean forward and kiss the back of my neck. I would squeeze his hand in acknowledgment. During the night, he kissed my shoulder and whispered that he loved me. I began to think that he really did.
"I love you too, Tom."
The next morning, we woke up to rain and gray skies. We shaved, bathed, put on clean clothing and went to breakfast. We were served sausages and eggs, obviously prepared in a skillet of grease. We blotted them as best we could with napkins and drank our tea and ate our toast. On leaving the inn...I wondered if our culinary repast would come back to bite us while traveling...but it did not. We collected the rental car, stowed our duffles in the back, purchased some bottled water and some cookies from a street vendor, and took off.
It was obvious that Tom had driven one of these little rental cars before. The transmission was manual. He seemed to have a good command of the gear shift and clutch as he put the car through it's paces out of Portsmouth. The engine had a high pitched whine as it was being shifted. Tom set on the right and I sat on the left...just the opposite of our cars at home. As the car leaped when going into each gear...we laughed at our attempt to shift smoothly. To the locals, we were obvious "yanks" from the colonies...something to be laughed at and joked about.
"Does it bother you to know that the Portsmouth people are laughing at us trying to drive one of their rental cars," I asked with a slight grin.
Tom looked back at me, "Hell no...I don't care. We won the war, didn't we?"
He laughed and shifted again. The little car again whined and leaped. We were on the road to Cornwall. Portsmouth now was part of the past for six more days until we would return to our vessel.
"Tom, when we were going over the map this morning at breakfast, didn't we see that we would be passing through Exeter," I asked?
"I believe so, why do you ask," he queried?
"Well, you remember last night when we talked about Jane Austen coming through the hotel room door..? When I was in high school we read her book SENSE AND SENSIBILITY. In the story, two of the characters got married, and stopped in their chaise, at the New London Inn in Exeter where they were greeted by Thomas, the servant of the woman who, her new husband had jilted. What they did not realize at the time was that it was Mr. Ferrar's younger brother Robert who had married Miss Steel and not Edward whom she loved."
"Oh God, Jason...don't tell me you like that old fashioned clap trap... do you," Tom asked? "I would never have expected you to like classical literature."
"I did enjoy the book...enough that I read the other five that Jane Austen wrote," I responded...a bit sensitive of his lack of appreciation for great literature.
"You're not going to enumerate the titles are you," Tom asked..?
"No," I responded.
There was quiet in the car for the next five minutes.
"Hey, what about those New York Yankees," Tom said...fishing for conversation.
"Yeah," I responded.
"Look, Jason, I'm sorry about smarting off about your love of literature. It was rude and tactless of me. I didn't mean anything by it. I was not a good student in school and to tell you the truth...I don't read very well. Sometimes I take my short comings out on those around me who are obviously better educated than I am...I apologize if I hurt your feelings. Honestly...I don't want you to be upset with me."
"I'm not angry with you," I responded. "I love excellence... and sometimes it is hard for me to understand that we do not all feel the same way about things," I carefully spoke back to him.
He put his hand on my knee and gave it a light pat. "Forgive me?"
I took his hand in mine and squeezed it warmly. "No offence taken."
We stopped in Exeter for a sandwich and a cola before hitting the road again. Tom pulled off the highway just outside Exeter.
"I need a break from driving Jason. It's your turn to drive," he informed me.
"But...but...I don't know how to drive on the wrong side of the road," I stammered. "What if I hit another car or send us into the ditch?"
"You won't," Tom said. You're young and alert. Driving will give you a feel for the road. Believe me, you can do this."
"I've never shifted a car with the gear box on the left side of me," I protested.
"Quit whining tough guy," Tom said again... "I won't let anything happen to you."
Tom took hold of my hand and pulled me to my feet. He handed me the car's key and took my place on the left. I walked around the back of the car and sat down in the driver's seat. It needed to be moved forward a bit because I was too far from the clutch. Looking at Tom who was grinning from ear to ear...I knew he was just waiting for me to show how bad of a driver I was. I put my one foot on the brake and the other on the clutch and pressed it to the floor. Shifting the car into low gear, I stepped lightly on the gas as I let off the clutch. The car started to move. Keeping my eyes on the road which were virtually empty at this time of the day, I shifted into second gear, then third, then fourth and then into fifth. Maybe there was one 'crow-hop' from third to forth...but I could not help be amused at Tom's face which was now looking amazed that I could do it at all.
He slugged my shoulder lightly, "You faker...you knew all along how to shift a British vehicle."
"Not so," I replied. "Honestly, this is the first time in my life I have driven a haw-handed vehicle."
"Liar," he called back to me.
"No honestly Tom...I have never done this before. It is beginners luck...I swear."
At Torguay...we stopped for petrol and pit stop. When we came out...Tom once more took the passenger side of the car. I climbed in on the drivers side, put the key back into the ignition, and started once more through the whole process of shifting out of low and going through all the gears again.. At Plymouth...we stopped for tea and some pastries at a fantastic little shop at the far edge of town called Grumbie's Tea and Taverne. The tea was dark and sweet...served hot with a crumpet like confection that looked like a triple decked waffle with a straw berry filling between the layers and homemade whip cream on top. It was huge. We ordered one and split it. The owner was amused at our English. Another commodity that he sold was an spiral bound book with the title: HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH IN GREAT BRITAIN. Tom bought one as a joke...but when we left the shop...I read it to him while he drove.
"Listen to this," I said. "You put "petrol" in your gasoline tank and when you check the oil...you raise the "bonnet." If you want to check your luggage in the rear...you raise the "boot."
Tom chuckled at me. "When we get to the hotel...I want to raise your bonnet and check your oil."
He reached over the gear shift with his free hand and groped my bulge.
"In fact, I may not be able to wait until we get to the hotel," he said.
I grabbed his hand and put it back on the steering wheel.
"It will still be there when we get to Land's End," I reassured him.
"Jason...want to give me a blow job while I am driving," he asked?
"Yes, but don't you think that is a little dangerous, out here on the open road," I said. "What if a truck goes by and sees us," I asked?
"Then... he sees a six foot American driver getting sucked by the cutest guy in Great Britain," Tom said.
I laughed out loud at the thought of it. I grabbed the edge of the steering wheel while Tom unbelted, unsnapped and unzipped. He pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. As soon as I touched his penis...it went to full mast.
I caressed his testicles and he moaned with delight. A car coming from the other direction went on by.
"Do you think they noticed," I asked?
"Not bloody likely," he responded in his best British accent.
I continued to tease his erect penis and ran my fingers through his pubic hair...then down around the twins again and then lower to tickle and tease his perineum. He shifted his weight to the right so I could barely touch his anal orifice. He shifted his weight back to center. I looked out the back window and saw no vehicles for at least a half mile and none ahead.
"Lift your arm a minute," I instructed.
As he did so, I leaned over into his lap and took his proboscis into my mouth. After a couple of slides on it to make it all slick and slimy...I easily moved up and down on it. Tom moaned again...and a couple times he hunched upward driving his rod deeper into my mouth. I pulled off and tongued the seam along the under side of his scrotum and then ran my tongue along the under side of his penis. He was becoming leaky as pre-cum began to secret profusely. It tasted salty and was clear. I lightly bit down on the top of his shaft. Tom again moaned with delight.
"Bite down a little harder, Jason. The pressure feels fantastic."
As I did so moving down his shaft...he became even more rigid. He moaned louder. I went down on his shaft with a wet tongue again and then took his testicles in my left hand and rolled them around with the saliva from my mouth on them. They were well lubed.
"Oh God," he said, "I love having my balls touched and teased. Do it again, Jason."
I continued to rotate his twins as they began to hang lower and lower. In between moans, Tom said that we were coming into Bodman. Did I want to give it a rest or keep my head in his lap.
"Will the road stop at a light or four way stop where we can be seen," I asked?
"As best I recall," Tom said, " I think we have several stops on this route."
"How far are we" I asked.
"I think the last road sign said 18 kilometers," Tom answered back.
"Hm, about twenty miles," I replied. "Keep driving...I want to bring this to fruition."
I went back to stroking him with my tongue and then took his rod totally into my mouth. By the 15 kilometer sign...Tom was erupting into my mouth and weaving all over our side of the road.
"Oh shit Jason, this was not a good idea," he said.
"What," I responded. "You mean you didn't enjoy it?"
"That's just it...I did... and now, when we travel together...I will expect the same treatment every time we hit the road," he said with a chuckle.
He reached over and rustled my hair with his fingers. Then he handed me some napkins from the Tea and Tavern to spit his semen into. After I had helped clean his dick up and express the last of the leakage...I held the steering wheel while he pulled himself together. We entered Bodman a couple minutes later.
We stopped at a road side stand to run to the loo and to get an American Coca-cola. It tasted great and it cut the semen taste in my mouth...but the one dollar price I paid for it seemed like highway robbery. In America, it would have cost me a quarter or less. Never the less, it was very cold and very good.
The trip thus far had been nearly five and a half hours with all the stops we made. Our average speed was about sixty kilometers per hour...slow by American standards...but it had been an easy trip, good weather thus far, and some relaxing sex. What more could anyone want.
When we inquired from the lad manning the stand about the amount of time to Land's end...he told us about thirty minutes. I got my camera and took his picture in his road side stand. He held out his hand for a tip. I gave him a schilling. Generous? I had no idea.
As it was, his guess that we would arrive in about thirty minutes...was right on the dot. Our lodging was at the Land's End Hotel... a large white building with glass sun rooms all around it... right on the tip of land pointing out to sea. The ocean smelled great. I imagined I could smell the salt in the water. While Tom checked us in...I went out on the patio and snapped photos of the rocky beach joining the ocean. There was not a cloud in the sky and it was early afternoon. Now in retrospect...the drive had seemed very fast...and now, here we were.
Coming back to the car, Tom said, "Grab your duffle, Jase...let's check out our room."
Luggage in hand, we found our room and by inserting the key, opened the door. It was spacious and once again faced the sea. There was a king size bed across from a bank of windows and the bath was modern in every way. The room was painted white...even the beams across the ceiling had been painted white. It seemed so characteristic of the seaside.
"Stow your bag mate," Tom said. "Grab my camera off the desk and let's go down to the beach for some pictures."
The two of us walked down to the water's edge. I shot a 35 millimeter picture of him looking back at the hotel and then we traded places...so he could photograph me. We walked over to a wooden sign with an arrow pointing towards America. It read Land's End, End of the story everywhere. The arrow pointing towards America said 3147 presumably kilometers and the other arrow pointing towards Scotland said John O'Groats 874. Some bicyclists told us that they had started at John O'Groats in Scotland and had cycled to Land's end. It seemed amazing to us that the majority of them where nearly double our ages. We asked how long the trip took...and with a grin one said, "Oh many, many days Laddies."
A British family was playing with their children on the beach. As we walked past, they greeted us. We stopped to visit and found that they were from Devonshire...and here on vacation. One of the children laughed as we spoke to them.
"You talk funny," one said. "Most Americans speak strange."
The parents hushed him up and apologized for the remark. Tom squatted down to pat the little offender on the head and to praise his work with the sand castle he was building.
"You know...I believe that is the best sand castle I have ever seen," Tom said to the lad.
The little boy's face lit up. He went from sour to all smiles...which showed two front teeth missing. His red hair was nearly the color of his freckles. As Tom got up...he said to the little boy, "Your name isn't Oppie, is it?"
"No sir," the little boy responded with a big grin, "It's Colin, sir."
"Well Colin, sir...," I am very pleased to meet you.
We shook hands with the parents and the little boy's siblings and walked on down the beach.
"You have quite a way with kids," I said to him.
"Yeah, I guess I do," Tom said. "When I was married...I wanted kids, but she did not."
"You would have made a great dad," I replied.
"Thanks, Jase...I appreciate that."
Tom put his hand on my shoulder and held it there for several minutes.
"Hungry," he asked?
"Not really," I answered back.
"Me neither...how about if we walk down the beach to the big rock and back."
"You're on," I responded.
The distance to the big rock was probably about a half mile. People were lying in the sand, some were swimming and a lot were in hassock like under slung chairs. We noticed that everyone seemed content just to be together on the beach and to enjoy the sunshine and each other.
Next to a rock bluff, in a shady spot, we sat down on a wooden bench to just watch the beach combers. The laughter was contagious. I leaned my head against Tom's shoulder just for a minute and told him that I was so happy to be here with him.
"Not nearly as much as I am to have you here with me, buddy," he answered back. "Not nearly as much as I am to have you here with me."
He quickly kissed the side of my faced and then looked back at the beach goers. A little girl had seen him kiss the side of my face and was giggling.
"What's so funny dear," her mother asked?
Tom put his finger to his lips and gave her a pleading look, to keep quiet.
"Nothing mum," the little girl said. "The beach just makes me happy, that's all."
Her mother hugged her and responded, "Me too, dear."
When we got up to walk back to the hotel...Tom gave her a quick wink. She waved back to us as we walked away.