Date: Sun, 9 Dec 2012 14:04:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Boris Chen <borischen@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Playing With Fire, Chapter 7

Chapter 7   Fort Jefferson     By Boris Chen


January 2000.


It was wicked cold on my walk to the hospital this evening. The worst part
of living near Lake Michigan is the wind chill in the dead of
winter. Sometimes storms come from the east and just bury the city in
frozen Lake Michigan snow flakes.


Speaking of dead we actually had a death in the burn unit just after new
years day, a person in a house fire with 50% burns and smoke inhalation
succumbed to respiratory failure. The patient was transferred from the ICU
to the burn unit when the family made them a DNR and allowed her to die
naturally instead of us doing all that brutal CPR stuff we are capable
of. Not everyone with burns survives. This patient was also a diabetic and
had COPD making it much harder to recover. Eventually her lungs filled with
gunk and we couldn't overcome that even on the vent machine. God rest her
soul. Luckily she was able to talk to all her family over the holidays
before she passed.


I never talk about this stuff at home since it's not that long ago that
Patrick lost his mother but didn't attend her funeral either. The brothers
continue their six times a year gatherings for dinner at that same
restaurant on Broadway in the city. I'm not sure if his brother knows
they're in the heart of Boys Town or not. I stopped hanging out on the
sidewalk across the street for his protection when Patrick told me he
didn't think Matthew was a risk for violence towards him any longer. The
brothers are getting older.


In two more weeks on my birthday we're planning a trip to Florida
again. We're going to the time-share condo my parents have on Key West, for
eight days. And like usual we're flying from O'Hare to Miami, then on a
small commuter plane to Key West, then taxi to the condo office. The place
is essentially a hotel but the visitors are partial owners, aside from that
there is nothing different from any other hotel I've ever been to.


We arrived on a Sunday afternoon, about 3pm, just in time to make a trip to
the beach for an hour or two before the sun was too low to keep us toasty
warm. The weather was fantastic. Not a cloud to be seen, the gulf was like
a sheet of glass by our beach.


Patrick's burns were no longer very sensitive to the sun so we decided to
try to actually tan this time. Even though he is part red-head and doesn't
tan well he can still darken a little. Well worth the time and relaxation.


We made it to the beach with our loungers at 3:30pm in our flip flops, tank
tops, board shorts, sun glasses, with a beach towel over the shoulder. I'm
sure we looked like a couple of gay tourists heading for the beach.


He laid on his back, I laid on my stomach, head facing him. I watched his
chest and the sun light reflect off his large left nipple while the
seagulls flew overhead, the sound of traffic on Simonton Street not fifty
feet from our loungers.


I just laid there staring at Patrick's amazing chest watching it rise and
fall as he breathed. I could hear boats out on the water taking people back
and forth between the two islands just off the beach to the north and
north-west of the tiny Simonton Street Beach we hung out right by the condo
building. My mind drifted back to Evanston, the cold, snow and the winds
off the lake. Too bad there aren't good paying jobs down here for nurses. I
hear Florida doesn't pay very well for RNs.


We both flipped over when Patrick's watch beeped after an hour. Patrick
laid next to me staring at my body while I laid tits-up like he was
earlier.


Around 7pm we walked to dinner after I actually fell asleep twice on the
beach. We walked to a place called Garbo's Grill about two blocks south of
Simonton Street Beach and had jerk chicken shared a salad and a couple
glasses of wine. We got back to our condo balcony by 9pm. I spread our
towels on the railing for a little privacy. I'm sure Patrick knew it was
coming.


We sat down briefly. I reached over laying my hand on top of his on the arm
rest. He looked over at me looking a little tired. I had myself psyched
into eating some of his nectar for dessert but one look told me this was
unlikely.


I stood up pulling him by his hand to the bed, we laid down and within
minutes we were both asleep, stayed that way all night but we were up early
the next morning.


I repeated the process slowly pulling him from the bed into the bathroom
shower stall, which was much larger than ours back home, there was also a
hot tub in the bathroom but we were both still stinky from the plane ride
and probably a little salt from a brief dip in the gulf waters before
dinner yesterday.


We both washed our hair, faces, pits, upper bodies. Then I dropped to my
knees and carefully did his naughty bits while he leaned against the
shower's tile wall.


I started on his backside hand washing his cheeks then his crack and
taint. I hand scrubbed them with tons of soap suds to make it clean enough
to eat off. Then I spun him around and carefully washed his testicles and
visually examined his hardware. Next I washed around his groin, between his
legs and above his penis, rinsed it off all the while noting the slowly
growing rod aiming right towards my face. I was finding it hard to not take
the entire thing right into my mouth.


Now I soaped his boner from base to head with slow deliberate movements
using both my hands. I washed him, rinsed it off then washed him again.


Temptation got the better of me. I surrendered the fight taking his dick
into my mouth. Sometimes I just like sucking on a boner.


After several minutes of sliding on and off his shaft, I needed a mouth
break so I pushed it up against his belly with my face so I could just rub
my entire face all over his manhood while I rested. At one point his cock
laid across my face with his nuts by my chin and his shaft along side my
nose, his head between my forehead and his lower belly. I pressed my nose
into his soft underbelly and just soaked up as much of Patrick's air as I
could.


One nice thing about this condo, is with it's central hot water, the place
never runs out.


We must have spent nearly a half hour in the shower before I extracted a
load of cum from him. This time he never ran his fingers into my hair,
never pushed my head into his belly taking him deeper into my mouth, he
actually relaxed and let me do my thing.


We moved from the shower to the hot tub. I sat on the ledge while he
climbed all the way in, this was where he took me and made me produce seed
for his enjoyment.


We finally made it to breakfast around 10am at the little diner a few
blocks away with the tiny gay flag above the door. We wore shorts and
tank-tops and slowly walked around the neighborhood on the sidewalk
watching the elderly folks ride past on their bicycles. We discussed
renting a moped and exploring the island more than we did last
time. Perhaps there were nicer beaches to be found, ones with less dead
seaweed.


After bumming around the town a while we found a place called the Key West
Ferry and decided tomorrow to take the boat to the Dry Tortugas to see Fort
Jefferson. We'd have to set the alarm clock and eat early for the long
trip. And we'd have to go to bed early tonight too.


By 4pm we returned the moped and walked back to Garbo's for more of their
jerk chicken and wine then back to the hotel where we laid on the bed
watching an old John Wayne movie on TCM, I think it was The High And The
Mighty. We laid on the bed on our stomachs with no clothes on. For a while
I laid on my back with my head hanging over the foot of the bed watching
the movie upside down while Patrick made love to my tits and stomach.


We were asleep by 9pm and up at 5:00am for a quick shower then over to
breakfast, then took a taxi to the ferry boat dock. We paid our $130 each
and got seats near the windows inside the high speed catamaran ferry.


We were snorkeling off the beach by the retired military fortress stopping
only for water and an occasional snack. The place was haunting and old. It
told stories of years of storms and tales of death and imprisonment. The
place was a little creepy knowing all the history and reading the signs the
National Park Service had around the facility.


Our tour group was rather small, and there were only three private boats at
anchor off the beach so we wandered the entire complex. When we were at the
far end of the fortress we walked around a bit holding hands and bouncing
off each others sides.


We started off following the tour group from the ferry boat but drifted
away since we'd be here most of the day. I saw a huge black iron cannon
towards the north end of the fort. Nobody was around us since the walking
tour folks already moved-on.


I walked up behind Patrick while he stood by the cannon staring out at the
endless ocean in almost every direction. I put my arms around his belly and
pulled myself into his back. On a whim I slid my right hand down his pants
to gently take his limp dick into my hand. Within seconds he started to get
hard. I set my chin on his shoulder and turned my face into the side of his
head to smell his hair and rub my face on the side of his neck and behind
his right ear. He leaned his head back into me while I played gently with
his dick.


That didn't last long but it was nice just standing there looking out over
the vast Gulf of Mexico towards the north-west. In a few more seconds we
pulled apart, he unzipped his shorts releasing his boner. I dropped to my
knees and did him right there by this enormous iron cannon.


Patrick ran his fingers into my hair and started to hump my face. In no
time at all he was whimpering out loud then shot a huge load down my
throat. I had no water to wash it down, which was fine. I actually liked
the flavor of his semen.


After he regained his composure we headed for the parade grounds in the
center of the fort, then into some of the lower level rooms looking out on
the moat along the north and west side of the fortress. There was still
nobody around us, thank God the group on the ferry boat was unusually
sparse today. They said on the boat that our group of fifty was the
smallest they've had on a weekday in years.


We sat in the window hole looking out on the moat and seawall separating it
from the gulf waters. We watched as an elderly couple walked past unaware
of our presence. Patrick leaned over to place a gentle romantic kiss on my
lips, which I returned wanting more. My dick got hard immediately.


He noticed my display, so I pulled out the waistband of my board shorts and
together we pulled it from inside aiming me at the brick and mortar top of
the window opening. He started stroking my boner smiling into my eyes while
I held his other hand.


P: "I love you Brad."  B: "I love you Patrick, we should go camping here."
P: "Do we even have the right gear for a place like this?"  B: "Well, we'd
need different cooking and food storage stuff and water storage too. Right
now we don't have the stuff to stay here but we could over the next year or
so, after more research."  P: "We should go over to the campground to see
if there are any gay couples we could ask about what stuff you need out
here and how much it costs."  B: "Cool. Oh. That's it, right there, a
little faster."


Within one minute I shot a load of cum right at Patrick, most of it landed
on his right arm with one large drop on his tank top, the rest dripped off
the end of my dick onto the brickwork of this ancient military
fortress. Now I felt truly a part of the history here. I pulled his shirt
up and licked the drop of my seed off his shirt. I gently pinched his tit
in the process.


After my boner disappeared we walked towards the other side of the fort
heading towards the camping area.


P: "What about them?" Patrick said pointing to a couple of guys that looked
to be there without and female companionship. We sat on the bench watching
them for a while to see if the ladies appeared. It was impossible to tell
from their campsite. B: "I'm not sure, let's spy a bit longer then go and
ask anyway."


We sat on the picnic bench near the campsites but not too close so they
might think we were spying on them. We stayed there for almost a half hour
but never saw any hint of female influence, so I decided to approach the
two guys. Patrick stayed at the bench to save our spots since the ferry
people were setting up for lunch.


B: "Hi, name's Brad, I'm from Chicago. Mind if I ask you some camping
questions? Got a minute?"


A: "Sure, nice to meet you, I'm Alan, that's my brother Alex. We're from
New Zealand, Wellington actually." He proclaimed in his colonial British
accent with a broad smile and lots of white teeth.


We shook hands as we walked to meet Alex and repeat the handshake. We stood
by the trees near their tent while I fired off question after question.


The brothers had no hint of gay accent and no mention of sex or anything
similar. All he spoke of was their trip to Fort Jefferson and the research
he did online about what they should bring. Then Alex added that water was
the biggest issue. He said cooking was hard because of fire restrictions
and bathing was also a no-go so they relied on baby wipes and bottled water
they got in Key West just before leaving on the ferry. He said the sand
pretty much got into everything from your ears to the food and the camping
gear, it pretty much ruined everything after a while. But at night the
place was quiet and very dark in places. He said it was not that much
different from camping at Burning Man, except there were no dust storms.


I think we talked for maybe five minutes but I never felt like I was
intruding on their privacy. The brothers seemed to be happy to answer all
my questions, but I could feel Patrick's stare on my back pulling me
away. We shook again briefly so I could return to my shipmate for lunch
over by the dock.


We had burgers, potato chips and pop sitting on the side of the pier
watching the gulls and listening to the sound of the sailboat mast ropes
clanging in the wind. No matter how loud it got the place still seemed very
much at peace in it's surroundings. I couldn't imagine being out here
during a hurricane but I'm sure hundreds have over the almost 200 years.


I had visions of being stuck on this island when this was an active
military base in the 1800's during a tropical storm, at night, no power, no
chance of rescue, not a single dry or really safe place as this fortress
was beat by the forces of nature. Gave me the creeps as I turned to look
over my shoulder at the entrance and the looming brick walls. I'm sure lots
of people arrived in this place with a sense of dread.


I placed my hand on Patrick's thigh as he finished the last bites of his
burger. His mind seemed to be stuck on the vastness of the ocean, mine on
the vastness of the human stories never told from this old place. I could
tell he was distant because he got really quiet for a while. He wears his
moods on the outside for everyone to see.


After lunch we waded in the water near the old coal unloading pier ruins at
both ends of the island. The boat sounded a horn signalling us to return
for the trip back to Key West. By 6pm we were back at Garbo's down the
street from our temporary home.


It seemed like a long day, like we covered lots of miles and saw lots of
new things. I think we were both pretty tired but being young we tried to
hide our exhaustion. By 8pm we were back in the condo in the hot tub. I
noticed Patrick was starting to look droopy, so I hit the power buttons,
stood up offering my hand to assist him to his feet. We both climbed out of
the tub heading for bed after toweling off.


We slept that night, all night. I woke up the next morning needing to pee
really bad, then came Patrick.


The rest of our trip was spent checking out the gay hotels and restaurants
in town based on a flyer we found in the little diner a few blocks from our
condo on the water.


We were looking for places to go here on the island and be independent from
my parents all knowing eyes. We appreciated us giving their timeshare days
to us but I think it made Patrick more than a little uncomfortable since he
really didn't know my folks and sort of took it as charity. My folks are
rather wealthy, that's how families like that give things to each
other. Patrick comes from an entirely different background and has a
different reaction to gifts like this. Sort of like me buying him that used
car.


We finished our vacation time then flew back home to the cold city.




We arrived to our apartment door to the usual stack of yellow pages books
and more flyers for Chinese food restaurants all over northern Chicago and
Evanston. I wish we could stop the phone books but we're never around when
they go through our building dropping them at every door. Someday
technology is gonna put all those companies out of business. I can hardly
wait.


Patrick seemed happy to be back home and back to work. He seemed much more
at ease and relaxed. Seems the more we go to Key West the more he learns to
relax and un-wind. It's hard for some people to do that. Perhaps it's a
skill that needs to be learned.


Patrick is trying to convince me to take up yoga with him, might be
something good we can do together. I wonder if there is a gay mens yoga
group in the city somewhere. That might be a good business for Patrick to
look into.


Tonight at dinner he laid down his fork, reached across the table, took my
hand, and told me he loved me. I could see the intensity and love in his
eyes.


-------------------


You can read the rest of this story now (free) online at
wattpad.com/borischen my other stories are located there too. None of my
books form a series, they are all independent works although some of them
have the same character names.


Please support Nifty.org      I did.


Comments to; borischen at rocketmail dot com