Date: Sun, 17 Oct 1999 23:57:52 PDT
From: J.O. Dickingson <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Erik & Gil: The Sailboat" (t/t, Celeb)

Author's Note: What you are about to read is a gay fantasy about two teen
celebrities.  It does not represent nor imply the true sexual orientation
of the characters.  If fantasies about teen celebrities having a same sex
experience offends you, you should not read any further.  This story has
been posted at free adult sites featuring gay stories for adult
entertainment only and may not be copied electronically nor in any other
form for redistribution.  Permission has not been given to copy or post
this story in any other sites than those described here.  Lyrics are
copyright of BMG Record Company.  Special thanks to a good friend and
Thought Circle knight, Mike G, for his critique and sailing advice.  This
story follows "Erik & Gil: Room 976".  Fans of celeb stories and of sailing
stories can write to the author J.O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com

                    Erik & Gil: The Sailboat

           I'm feelin' free, you mean so much to me,
              Where you are, 's where I wanna be,
              So let our dreams fly away from now,
                Come with me, I'll show you how.

                   I can see it in your eyes,
                    And it makes me realize,
              That I love you, I really love you.

     If anyone had been watching, they would have noticed Erik was
polishing the railing on his sailboat in time with the rhythm of "See It In
Your Eyes" by, of course, Gil Ofarim and his band.  He was no more aware of
that, than he was aware that he was quietly singing the words.  The
handsome, sixteen-year-old actor was thinking back to the night he'd spent
with Gil in Room 976 in Seattle two months earlier.  It had been eight
weeks since they'd seen each other, but that night was as clear at that
moment as if it had only been yesterday.  Everything was so vivid in his
mind, his nervousness, his sinking feeling that he'd made a total fool of
himself in front of the most beautiful boy in the world, the hot sight of
Gil standing there in the hotel room in his champagne-coloured Club Monaco
sweater and tan Wranglers, his sexy ocean-blue eyes, the mild coconut scent
of his skin lotion, everything.
     Erik smiled to himself.  Every time he'd seen a coconut since that
night he'd thought of Gil and gotten an instant erection.  Erik's smile
broadened.  Now there would be a great headline for the tabloids.  Erik von
Detten, teen heartthrob, turned on by a hairy pair of coconuts.  He reached
down and adjusted the position of his partially aroused cock so that it was
more comfortable and less visible.  As he pictured Gil's cute, naked butt
the swelling in his shorts was impossible to stop.
     Twenty minutes away a gorgeous honey blond stud muffin less than three
weeks away from his seventeenth birthday was thinking of the same night and
cautiously, and he hoped covertly, making the same adjustment.  He should
have realized that it was next to impossible for Gil Ofarim to do anything
secretively.  The teenage German grunge singer was constantly being stared
at, if not because of his fame as a hot young singer, then because of his
striking beauty.  At the moment that he was making the adjustment so his
erection was not so uncomfortable and not so evident, the taxi driver was
studying him in the rearview mirror.
     When the boy had first hailed his taxi at the airport, he'd been sure
it was a sweet young girl.  His slim body and delicate features, his smooth
cheeks and long eyelashes, and his long, gorgeous hair extending to the
middle of his chest gave him an effeminate look, albeit a flat- chested
one.  That it was a boy sitting in his back seat had taken the driver up
until then to be certain.  He walked and sat like a boy, and what he was
presently doing was something boys did, not females.  He wondered if the
boy was a fag-whore.  He had the looks to be one, a well-paid one.  The
taxi driver hoped he wasn't.  He hated whores, and he hated fags even more.
     Gil didn't notice the taxi driver's attention, nor the buildings and
parks passing by outside the window.  His mind was on one thing only, the
image of Erik von Detten, young television actor, up-and-coming movie star,
and teen heartthrob.  That image was of Erik standing there in Gil's hotel
room in a Tommy Helfiger shirt and Gap cargo pants the first night they met
and looking sexy as hell.  That image faded and was replaced by one of the
hot teen actor standing there before him buck naked, his young, smooth body
bulging with muscle in all the right places and radiating a sex appeal as
evident as the odour of the boy's Gillette "Spring Rain" deodorant.  He
would never forget that fragrance for as long as he lived.  He would
forever associate it with the tender love and passionate lust he'd felt
that wonderful night in Seattle.  It was the most awesome night he'd ever
spent in his entire life.  He hummed as he silently sang "See It In Your
Eyes", changing only the first word in the fifth line of the chorus.

                   I can see it in your eyes,
                    And it makes me realize,
              That I love you, I really love you.
                   I can see it in your eyes,
                     Boy, it's no surprise,
             That I love you, I really love you.

     Arriving in Marina Del Rey, Gil paid the driver and then made his way
along the docks until he found where Erik's sailboat was berthed.  Erik was
on the deck of his twenty-eight foot Islander coiling lines to the sails.
Gil paused and watched him. His biceps and triceps bulged with the strength
of a youth who evidently kept himself physically fit as he coiled the lines
to perfection.  Erik's care and precision were no surprise.  Gil sighed.
Erik looked so hot in his sleeveless white T and his baggy tan shorts.  His
arms and legs and the V of his chest visible above his T-shirt were brown
from the sun and accented his virility.
     The young teen singing star could easily stand there and just admire
the hot American stud for the rest of the afternoon.  He looked so sexy,
and so natural there on his sailboat, just like a promotion picture.  For
the fifth time that morning Gil wished he'd chosen something more casual to
wear, but this time with the greatest regret of all.  It had seemed right
at the time, but now compared to Erik he felt seriously overdressed.
     There being nothing he could do about it now, he stepped forward, his
heart fluttering like it had on his very first date with a girl way back
when he was only ten.  His legs felt so weak he was uncertain he could make
the short distance across the wooden planks of the dock to where the
sailboat was moored.
     "Hey, Captain, permission to come aboard?" he called.
     Erik spun around at the sound of the familiar voice, his heart
speeding up and his lips curling into an open-mouthed, crooked smile.  Shit
almighty, Gil was even more gorgeous than the last time they'd met.  His
long hair, a dark brown where he parted it in the centre and then gradually
growing lighter to become a mix of light brown and gold and finally a honey
blond, looked so full and rich.  It framed his face and flowed down to
mid-chest and down his back, the silky strands glowing in the morning
sunshine.  His bright ocean-blue eyes, his wide, boyish smile, and his
perfect, pearly teeth made Erik's heart and loins ache, the first with
love, the second with lust.  Gil's navy-blue, short-sleeved shirt with wide
white lapels and blue and white waistband, and his tight, black cords were
perfect.  Erik's impression was of a young naval cadet, except no navy
would allow such full, gorgeous hair.  To cut it would be a capital crime.
     "Permission granted," Erik said with a grin as he stepped over to the
railing.  "It's so great to see you again."  As he extended his hand, he
wished instead of a handshake they could embrace and kiss, and it was only
with supreme effort that he resisted the impulse.
     "Yeah, this last week seemed to drag forever," Gil said as they shook
hands.  Erik's handshake was so firm, so masculine.  Just that touch alone
sent a quiver down his cock to the sensitive tip.
     "Well, the weekend's here now," Erik replied as he withdrew his hand,
hoping that he had not squeezed too hard, that he had not come on as too
masculine.
     "Oh yeah," Gil agreed as he glanced around.  "You really own this
boat?"
     "Yep, all mine.  Bought it from a friend, Jordan Brower."
     "It's totally awesome."
     "Thanks," Erik responded, grinning proudly.  He had many hobbies,
including reading, horseback riding, playing guitar, and golf, but of them
all, he loved to surf and to sail the best.  He was very proud of his boat,
having the same feelings about it as many teens his age had about their
first car.  "I'll show you where you can stow your things."
     As Gil followed Erik, he could not believe how excited and how happy
he felt at that moment.  In a way it was how he felt Christmas morning, and
in a way, being with Erik was like Christmas.  Ever since they had talked
about someday going for a sail on Erik's boat, he'd imagined what it would
be like.  Then when he and Erik had chatted on icq a month ago, Erik had
told him he had some holiday time the end of July before he had to begin
work on the second season of "So Weird".  Gil had immediately talked to his
manager and to his father and arranged to fly out to Los Angeles to spend a
week with him.  An entire week, and a week that he hoped would be filled
with many nights like the one and only night they had spent together.  In
anticipation of just that, he'd been exercising daily to be sure he was in
top shape, and he'd abstained from any form of sex, even jacking off, to be
sure he'd be able to get off a volley of shots.
     Stowing away Gil's duffel bag, guitar and clothes bag below deck, Erik
gave Gil a quick tour of the cabin.  His sleeping quarters were simple,
consisting of a V-berth and an aft berth.  The small closet and three
drawers had just enough room for the boy's clothes.  "Sorry it's a little
cramped in here.  Hardly enough space to walk."
     "Well," said Gil, squeezing in beside Erik, "I don't think we'll be
doing much pacing in here anyway."
     "Oh, I dunno," said Erik with a grin, "think we'd better have some
pacing or I'm going to wear out the first night."
     "I think it'll take some to wear IT out," Gil replied, dropping his
hand to Erik's crotch.  God, it was so hot and damp.  He wanted to open
Erik's fly and take out his cock and smother it with kisses right then and
there.
     Erik grinned as he half turned in the narrow space and wrapped his
arms about the hot honey-blond teenager groping his crotch.  His
coconut-scented lotion immediately started to get him erect, the fragrance
being even stronger in the tight quarters of the V-berth.  He didn't know
it, but at the same time the fragrance of his "Spring Rain" deodorant was
having the same effect on Gil.
     "Shit almighty, I've missed you so much!" Erik sighed wrapping his
arms about Gil and drawing Gil's body close to his.
     "And I you.  Every night I've dreamed about you."
     "Wet dreams?" Erik asked, looking into his ocean blue eyes.
     "Many," Gil said, returning the gaze.  "I haven't masturbated for the
past two weeks so I'd be prepared for this week."
     "Me too," Erik replied with a grin.
     "And I haven't been with another boy since that night in Seattle."
     "Really?"
     "Yes.  That night was so special I knew no other boy could make me
feel like you had.  Besides, even though we never made any promises or
commitments, I felt like I'd be cheating on you if I did it with anyone
else."
     "Well, I haven't had sex with anyone since that night either."  For
Erik it was more of a matter of lack of opportunity.  Although Vancouver
and Los Angeles both had significant gay populations, he obviously couldn't
frequent the more popular gay hangouts.  Besides, after having had sex with
Gil he had no interest in other boys, not even his good friend and first
sex partner, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.
     "Cool."
     Erik paused for a moment, wondering if he should ask.  The pause was
blatantly evident.  "So . . .  well . . .  did you . . .  you know. . . .
When we chatted . . .  on icq . . .  and said we'd see a doctor. . . ."
     "Yeah," Gil said with a smile.  "I brought my results with me in my
duffel bag.  I tested negative."
     "Me too," Erik said sheepishly, "I knew there'd be no doubt about our
tests."
     "Me too," Gil said, squeezing the semierect flesh he could feel in
Erik's shorts.  "I've been careful right from the first time I had sex."
Erik's flesh began to swell beneath his hand.  It was so awesome feeling
another boy growing hot and knowing it was because he was hot for you.
     "We'd better finish the tour," Erik said, unable to hide his desire in
his voice any better than the desire in his shorts.
     "Mmmm," said Gil as he ran his hand up and under Erik's T.  "I think
I've been on this tour before."
     "Hey," Erik said as he pulled away playfully.  "We're still tied up at
the dock."
     "So untie us," responded Gil.
     After quickly showing Gil the galley, Erik gestured for him to head
back above deck ahead of him.  Watching the hot, trim teenager climb the
short ladder, he wanted to reach out and caress those tight, compact buns
so badly it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself.  His heart
seemed to be extraordinarily high in his chest and he ached with an
anticipation far worse than the moment before a major scene on the set back
in Vancouver.
     "So how do we get this boat moving?" Gil asked.
     "Help me cast off the port and starboard tie lines and we're on our
way."
     "The what tie lines?"
     "You take the right and I'll take the left," Erik instructed as he
nodded to the dock.
     "I'd rather have both," Gil observed, running his fingers lightly over
Erik's crotch.
     "That all you think about is sex?"
     "Yeah, when I'm with you, and ever since I met you."
     Erik laughed.  He'd had a similar problem.  Everything he'd done over
the past two months, whether it was before the television cameras, doing
his homework, or spending a day with his sisters and brother, had been
constantly interrupted by thoughts of Gil and their night together in
Seattle and by dreams of spending a day with him on his sailboat.  It had
been almost too painful for him to think about, but when Gil had told him
that they would have a whole week together, he could think of nothing else.
     The two boys cast off the lines and as Gil watched, Erik started up
the engine and guided the sailboat away from the dock.
     "I didn't know sailboats have motors."
     "Well, boats this size have to.  It's too awkward, not to mention
dangerous, to try to manoeuver by sail in such crowded conditions."
     "There's a lot to learn about sailing.  It's not as easy as it looks,"
observed Gil.
     "Well, I'd be glad to teach you."
     "I'd love to learn."
     As Erik manoeuvred the sailboat through the crowded harbour, he
thought about how different this was to their first meeting.  Oh sure, he
was still nervous and still concerned about making a good impression, but
he was way more comfortable this time, and he sensed Gil felt far more
comfortable also.
     "Okay," Erik said, "the first thing we have to do is hoist the
mainsail."
     "Aye aye, Captain.  How we do that?"
     "Simple," said Erik with a grin, pleased that Gil was genuinely
interested.  "See, the mainsail is connected to this beam, called the boom.
Now, if you pull on this line, it guides the sail up the mast."
     "It's a lot easier than I thought," said Gil as he took the line Erik
handed him and pulled on it.  "The sail is so huge.  I thought it would be
a lot heavier."
     "The pullies do most of the work," Erik explained as he watched Gil's
biceps contract as he hoisted up the sail.  Shit almighty he had a
fantastic body.  "Now, the boom controls the amount of lift the sail can
generate."
     "Huh?"
     "It controls how full the sail is.  The fuller the sail, the more lift
there is."
     "And the faster it goes?"
     "Exactly, and for more speed we can raise the Genoa."
     Gil looked at him blankly.
     "That sail there," indicated Gil.  "The foresail."
     As the boys hoisted and set the Genoa, working side by side, they felt
like kids off on a high adventure, one the teacher and the other the pupil.
For the next hour Erik showed Gil the main aspects of operating the
sailboat, how to turn to port or starboard by jibbing or by tacking, how to
adapt for changes in the ocean and air currents and how to adjust the
speed.  Sharing his knowledge with someone so eager to learn gave the
sixteen-year-old amateur sailor a warm feeling inside.  As for Gil, Erik's
enthusiasm for sailing was infectious, and combined with his natural
curiosity and his sheer delight just to be with the hot American teen, he
could have spent the entire day being tutored.
     As the sun rose in the clear blue pacific sky and Gil practised the
basics of sailing under Erik's watchful eye and with his occasional help,
the two teenagers began to sweat.  Neither minded. Heading out into the
open sea, the two boys forgot about always needing to be clean and
presentable.  They forgot their acting and singing jobs and about their
school work and fans.  They put aside their worries and forgot about the
pressures of being a star and of being a teenager.  The only thing on their
minds besides each other was the freedom of sailing and the vastness of the
ocean and the joy of mastering the elements by shear brawn and brains.
Finally setting the sails and the course, the two boys sat down in the
cockpit and relaxed.
     "I'd better warn you, I've been sweating like a pig," warned Gil as
Erik slid closer and put his arm about him.
     "Mmmm, I love hot sweaty boys," Erik replied.  "Besides, I've been
sweating too.  Sailing is one of the greatest ways to work out."
     "I can think of one way that's better," Gil suggested with a wry smile
as he snuggled in closer.
     "Oh yeah," agreed Erik.  "That is definitely the best way to work up a
sweat."
     Slipping his hands under Erik's damp T, Gil slowly began to push it
up.  Erik raised his arms, allowing Gil to remove it.  As it dropped to the
deck, Erik raised Gil's polo shirt and slipped it over his head, revealing
the singer's smooth, hairless chest also.  He ran his fingertips along the
boy's soft breasts, following the smooth rounded contours and lightly
caressing his pinkish-brown nipples.  Running his hands across the boy's
solid but soft chest, he stroked the sweat-dampened silky hairs of his
pits.  Gil leaned forward and kissed him gently, his lips velvety soft and
his breath as fresh and clean as the morning breeze.
     As they kissed a second time, Gil wrapped his arms about Erik, drawing
his hot, perspiring body to his own, lips pressed against lips and naked
chest against naked chest.  As their lips parted, Gil drew away and admired
the American teenager.  His arms and chest had developed a nice, smooth
tan, much darker than it had been back in May.  He had evidently had
opportunities to be outside in the sun despite the rainy climate of
Vancouver where he was shooting his television series "So Weird".  Gil
reached out and ran his fingertips along Erik's brawny arms, following the
curvature of his well-developed biceps and triceps, evidence of Erik's
interests in surfing and sailing.  He had the upper torso of a rower, his
chest firm and defined, his shoulder muscles and upper arm sculptured like
Michelangelo's David, but this was no cold marble statue, this was a very
tanned, and very hot, young god of flesh.
     Erik's armpit hairs were a dark brown, and like his own, plastered to
his body with sweat.  Gil looked up at Erik, at his sexy, hazel eyes, at
his sensuous crooked smile, and at his beautiful thick, dark brown, tousled
hair.  His Down Under gel was unable to compete with the late morning sun
and the ocean breeze.  His hair stuck up in the back, and loose, sweaty
strands of hair framed his face, hanging down just past the outer edges of
his eyebrows and plastered to his flushed face, their natural position.
Erik had a natural sex appeal, but he looked all the sexier with his
sweat-damped cheeks and with the sheen of sweat on his naked upper torso.
     Untying the drawstring of Erik's shorts, Gil slipped his hands under
their elastic band and at the same time under the waist band of Erik's blue
checked white boxers and pushed them down together.  His firm, compact butt
was smooth and slightly damp and Gil's cock stirred with the feel of the
hot sixteen-year-old boy's warm, sweaty ass.  As Gil slowly eased down
Erik's shorts and boxers, his thick, curly brown hairs came into view.
They were same rich brown as the hair on his head.  Gil slowly unveiled the
teenager's flaccid cock, the thickness and length clearly indicating he was
partially aroused.  Like Gil, Erik was well-hung, his balls hanging low in
their coarse skinned sac, but unlike Gil, his sac was hairy and dark in
colour.
     Gil continued to draw down Erik's clothes, easing them down along his
muscular thighs, again evidence of his surfing and sailing, and along his
calves, slender and covered with a soft dark brown hair.  Gil paused to
remove Erik's air walks and to pull off his white Argyle socks, and then
slipped off his shorts and boxers.  Remembering what Erik had done to him
back in Room 976, Gil slipped onto the deck of the boat and took Erik's
large size twelve feet in his lap.  On impulse he raised them to his face
and inhaled.  The heady combination of hot sneaker leather and perspiring
feet caused Gil's cock to swell even faster.  The teenager inhaled deeply
and with genuine delight, which caused Erik's cock to begin to swell faster
also.  Like the rest of his body Erik's ankles were strong and the heels
and balls of his feet firm and muscular.  Remembering the exquisite
pleasure of Erik's foot massage back in the hotel, Gil ran his fingers
along the insole of his right foot, firmly but gently massaging the
muscular flesh.  Erik sighed with the pleasure and closed his eyes as Gil
massaged one and then the other foot.
     Finally slipping off the bench and onto the deck also, Erik undid
Gil's large silver buckle and unbuttoned the top of his black cords.
Slowly drawing down his zipper, Erik ran his fingers over the damp, warm
bulge in the boy's white jockey briefs.  As the contents stirred beneath
his gentle touch, Erik knew just how the boy was feeling.  He delighted in
that undeniable advantage of being gay, the advantage of being able to know
just how another boy is feeling as he is becoming stiff.  Erik quickly
removed Gil's runners and socks and eased the young singer's trousers off.
His hands trembling with excitement, he drew the boy's white briefs down
his smooth, hairless thighs and his sparsely haired calves and past his
tender, delicate feet.  The boy half sat and half lay there on the warm
deck, wearing only four narrow silver hoops and one wide sliver-embossed,
black leather bracelet on his left wrist, and his two necklaces, a silver
tube necklace about his neck and an "M" shaped pendant hanging just past
his breasts.
     The two boys lay there on the deck of the sailboat head to toe.  Erik
felt Gil's hot breath on the back of his right foot, and then his hot,
moist mouth envelop his large toe and begin to suck.  Taking one of Gil's
much smaller and dainty-looking feet in his hands, Erik began to caress it,
gently pressing against the delicate bones and tendons with his fingertips.
And so the boys began to make love, caressing, licking, and sucking each
other's feet, guarding against areas of ticklishness and seeking areas of
sensitivity, enjoying the pleasure the other was causing, and enjoying
bringing the other equal pleasure.
     Finally twisting around, Erik took Gil in his arms and kissed him with
growing desire.  Gil responded by returning the kiss and slipping his
tongue into Erik's mouth.  The two began to caress, running their hands
over each other's back and massaging each other's nipples as their tongues
duelled, twisting around each other, pursing each other into the hot, moist
chambers where each dwelled.  Their saliva slick tongues ran over each
other, one above and one under and then reversing, then running along the
highly sensitive sides, and striking the tip of each other as though they
were snakes.  At the same time their nipples grew firm and began to itch
with arousal as fingers gently rubbed and squeezed them, and their youthful
cocks thickened and lengthened.
     As their desires grew in intensity so did the intensity of their
foreplay, and as the sun beat down upon the deck they began to perspire
once again, but this time for a far different reason.  As sweat beaded on
their foreheads and developed a sheen over their naked bodies, their
breathing became more laboured and the ache in their balls grew more
demanding.  Their kisses became more feverish, their caresses more rapid
and firmer.
     Finally the two lovers rolled over and Gil, laying on his back, spread
apart his legs.  Slipping the thick cushions from the bench beneath Gil's
butt, Erik knelt before him and lowered his head between his slender,
raised legs.  Gil quivered as Erik's mouth and tongue attacked the boy's
exposed rosebud, the mouth nibbling on his pucker and his tongue licking
and worming into the delightful opening.  The boy's sweaty crack caused a
copious flow of saliva which Erik collected in his mouth and then blew into
the dank opening of the panting, squirming, honey- blond teen.
     Finally straightening up, Erik shuffled up between Gil's thighs.
Pushing down on his stiff cock, he inched forward until the head was
pressing against the spit-slick opening.  His spittle, his steel-hard cock,
and Gil's eagerness made their union easy.  Erik sunk his six-and-a-half
inches of hard, hot cock into Gil effortlessly, like a knife cutting into
butter.  He then slowly began to pump it in and out of the hot, moist
channel, causing both of them to tremble and sigh with pleasure.  His sweat
trickled down his back and down over his ass cheeks.  It trickled down his
thighs to where Gil's hot thighs were pressed against his and their sweat
ran together.
     The two boys panted, inhaling and exhaling deeply in unison as they
worked together, the one humping to and fro, the other clenching and
relaxing his anal muscles.  Their breathing became heavier and faster along
with their gyrations until finally the two groaned and came violently,
their first orgasms in fourteen days.  Erik's cum shot out of his throbbing
cock and deep up Gil's rectum as if it was never going to stop as Gil's
creamy white load spurted out of his cock and splattered his sweat-dampened
chest with rope after rope of hot teenage cum.
     Gil reached up and swirled his creamy cum with his index finger,
spreading the warm, sticky juice over his chest, and he then offered his
finger to Erik.  The hot sixteen-year-old eagerly slipped his lips over the
proffered digit and sucked it clean.  At last the boys separated and lay
back on the deck.  They stared up at the sharp blue sky and dreamily
relished the flush that follows a man's orgasm and the memory of their
ejaculation.
     "What are you thinking?" asked Erik finally, turning his head and
looking at Gil.
     "How hungry sex can make a guy," smiled Gil.
     "I made us a picnic lunch."
     "Yeah?  Way cool."
     "Hope you'll like it."
     "If you made it I gotta like it."
     "You don't even know what it is."
     "Don't matter.  Anything prepared by your hands has got to be good."
     The boys kissed and held each other close.
     "Maybe we should work up more of an appetite first," suggested Erik a
dozen kisses later.
     "On a full stomach I can work up a much better appetite," smiled Gil.
     Erik slipped on his shorts and quickly disappeared below deck.  By the
time Gil had put on his cords Erik had returned.  Spreading a plastic red
and white checkered table cloth on the cockpit table, he took out the
contents of the picnic basket he'd prepared: Kentucky fried chicken, a
large container of pasta salad and another of potato salad, a can of
Pringles potato chips, and chilled cans of Cherry Coke and Sprite.
     "Hope this is okay."
     "Looks fantastic," said Gil.
     "Then dig in."
     The two barefoot, bare-chested boys sat there cross-legged on the deck
and began to eat.  Gil looked around at the expanse of blue ocean totally
surrounding them.
     "This is so awesome," he sighed.  "There is so much space."
     "Yeah," agreed Erik.  "After fighting the crowds in LA this is like a
piece of heaven."
     "And no fans anywhere for miles to interrupt your lunch."
     "Yeah.  I imagine your fans would be out of their skulls if they were
able to see you right now, practically naked and eating KFC."
     "Yeah," Gil said with a smile.  "Don't get me wrong.  I love fans.  Of
course I love playing music most of all, but that wouldn't mean as much to
me without fans to appreciate it."
     "Yeah, same with acting," said Erik.  "I love to act, but without
fans, it would be sort of pointless."
     "How do you think they'd react, your fans, if they found out you were
gay?"
     "Would freak most of them," Erik said, having thought about that ever
since he and JTT had messed around together almost a year ago.  "Which is
sort of dumb, because there's been dozens of gay actors and actresses in
the past, and there are dozens in the profession right now."
     "Dozens?"
     "Well, I don't know the number, but lots.  I think the acting
profession has a way higher percentage of gays than most professions.  Way
more than the public knows, that is for sure."
     "Wasn't there a real big romantic actor that all the women swooned
over that really had a gay lover?  Back, I dunno, in the fifties or
something.  He had a thin little moustache."
     "Clark Gable."
     "Yeah, that was the name."
     "Yeah, the shits is that he had to keep it a big secret or he'd have
had no fans."
     "Yeah, that must have really sucked.  Things are at least a bit better
now."
     "Yeah, but being gay is still not that acceptable.  Like if my teen
fans found out I was gay I think it would affect the number who would
attend my movies or watch "So Weird".  It sure would affect the roles I
got.  Like I mean, who would want a gay actor playing a straight role.
Everyone would keep thinking that he was gay, and even though movies are
all acting, in any straight love scenes they'd really know it was all just
an act."
     "Yeah, well, being gay is even worse when you are a teen heartthrob,"
said Gil.
     "Meaning I'm not?" joked Erik as he licked off his fingers.
     Gil laughed.  "You know what I mean.  Take my position ."
     "No thanks.  I'd rather be the top."
     "Funny boy."
     "Thanks, I think."
     "Seriously ."
     "Do we have to?"
     "Yeah," said Gil solemnly.  "I can't talk about this with anyone else.
You're the first I've really been able to open up to about this stuff."
     "Same here," said Erik.  "So you were saying?"
     "Like take the band.  If the girls found out I was bi you can bet my
concert tours would be ended, the auditoriums half full, maybe even less."
     "Com'on, it don't matter if you're gay or straight or bi, you still
sing the same."
     "And do you still act the same?"
     "Of course."
     "But actors have to be very successful before they'd risk coming out."
     "Yeah.  I see your point."
     "And it is all so dumb.  It is so great to have sex with another guy.
To have days like today."
     "Oh yeah."
     "But at the same time it's the shits liking sex with guys.  You know,
having to be secret about it, having to lie, feeling guilty about it."
     "You feel guilty about being bi?"
     "No, I like being bi, though I really don't know if that's what I
really am.  What I feel guilty about is not speaking out, about not
correcting someone when they make some dumb comment about gays or bis,
about not having the courage to say hey, I like having sex with another
guy."
     "Yeah, know what you mean.  It's like hearing a gay joke that puts
gays down and wanting to say that it is wrong, but afraid if you do you'll
be accused of being gay.  Then you feel even more guilty for being afraid
of being found out you're gay."
     "Yeah.  Or if they don't accuse you of being gay, they call you a gay
lover."
     "Which is just as bad in their minds."
     "Little minds."
     "Little warped minds."
     "Yeah."
     "It's all so stupid.  So what if a guy would rather have sex with
another guy instead of with a girl, or likes to have sex with both?  I
think gay and bi people are far more sensitive than straight.  And far more
creative."
     "Yeah, why else would there be so many in the arts?"
     "Precisely.  I just can't see how anyone can say it's bad to love
someone of the same sex.  Shit almighty, its love!"
     "Yeah, precisely," agreed Gil.  "I think the worst people of all are
those who hate gays and bis so much they harm them physically."
     "Oh yeah.  You really have to be careful here in the United States,
even here in LA where people are otherwise pretty tolerant of differences."
     "In Germany it's the skinheads you really have to watch for."
     "Yeah, they are bad news here too."
     "Especially for me.  They not only hate fags, but Jews too."
     "Yeah, you're Jewish aren't you."
     "Yeah.  My name means "happiness" in Hebrew.  And most of the time I
am, except when I think of the prejudices of this world."  Gil noticed
Erik's expression change.  "There something wrong?"
     "Huh?"
     "My faith isn't a problem, is it?"
     "No, of course not.  Why would you ask that?"
     "It's just . . .  well . . .  you looked sort of, I don't know, like
something was on your mind just now."
     "There was."
     "And it is?"
     "Well, its sortta dumb.  Shit, it is dumb."
     "But it was on your mind."
     "Yeah."
     "So?  You have to tell me now."
     "Well," Erik began with a sheepish look, "I thought Jews were
circumcised.  That it was a big part of their religion."
     "It is."
     "But, well, you. . . ."
     "I'm cut.  It's just that the doctor left a lot of my skin in tact in
my case."
     "Oh.  I was, well, just confused I guess," Eric said, flushed with
embarrassment and too flustered to think clearly.  "I mean, I don't have a
whole lot of experience in examining other guys' cocks.  I haven't gotten
to know anyone's as closely as I've gotten to know yours."  Erik glanced at
Gil with a grin that he hoped made up for his intrusion into such a
personal matter.  "I just was under the impression that a guy either was
uncut or had no skin at all, and. . . .  Shit almighty, now I'm rambling!"
     "Yeah, well, it is an interesting topic," Gil said with a grin.  "I'll
be right back."  He slipped below deck and returned in a few minutes, his
guitar in his hand.  He stood there on the bow of the sailboat and quickly
tuned it, and then looking at Erik, he began to sing.

                     Tell me about your day
                   What you've been thinking,
          Cause I've been waiting outside your place,
                    Waiting a long time now,
                     And I've been calling,
               Baby I just had to see your face,
             Please don't tell me I'm in your way,
            I want your love more and more each day,

                      Never giving up now
                     All my heart is in it,
                      You can't walk away,
                      Never giving up now
                    Taking it to the limit,
                     Do you feel the same?

     "Yes I do," replied Erik, the next line in the song.

                  You get stronger every time
                Don't you know, don't you know,
                Don't you know, don't you know,
                    You've been on my mind.

     "You've been on mine too," Erik said with a grin.  "You've been making
it hard for me to concentrate."
     "In my case you've just been making it hard," Gil replied with a
giggle as he put down his guitar.
     "Oh?" laughed Erik as the singer sat down beside him.  "Let's see."
He reached over and cupped Gil's basket.  "Difficult to tell with these
cords on."
     "Feel free to remove them," Gil offered.
     Erik immediately took him up on the offer, and as he removed the randy
teenager's cords, Gil reached over and removed Erik's shorts.
     "God, I love you so much," Gil said as he reached over and picked up
Erik's limp cock between his thumb and forefinger.
     "You talking to me, or my dick?" Erik asked playfully as he reached
over and cupped Gil's balls.
     "Both of you," said Gil with a long sigh as Erik rolled his nuts in
his ball sack.  "I wish we could spend the rest of our lives out here on
the ocean, just the two of us."
     "I think I'd get tired of fish by the third or fourth week," observed
Erik.
     "And what about me?"
     "I'd never get tired of you," Erik responded, leaning over and giving
Gil a kiss.
     The two cuddled and embraced and kissed, soft, tender kisses, kisses
of love.  As their hands roamed and their tongues duelled, their passions
began to rise once again.  They were young, they were healthy, and they
were truly in love for the first time in their lives.  It came as no
surprise to either that their bodies began to respond as though they had
not had an ejaculation only an hour earlier.  As they felt their desires
mounting, their kissing and caressing became more passionate, and their
cocks began to swell still faster.
     Erik slipped his hands down and resumed fondling the silky skin of
Gil's nut sac, rolling the teenager's balls, and Gil similarly began to
fondle Erik's slightly larger and hairier sack.  Gradually Erik slipped his
hand around to Gil's butt and began to fondle his sensitive rosebud.  Gil
squirmed with the sensation, delighting in Erik's tenderness and his slow
approach to love- making.  More accustomed to lustful slam-bang one night
sessions, he found their gradual foreplay a delight and he could easily
engage in it with his newfound lover for hours.  He slipped his hands up
and began to caress Erik's smooth chest, fondling his nipples until they
were firm.  That Erik was being turned on by his lovemaking was just as
much a turn-on for him as was Erik's fondling of his sweaty testicles.  As
Gil's blood began to course through his veins, his body began to flush with
sexual heat, and from the temperature of Erik's body, the same was
evidently happening to him.
     Gil finally rolled over on his back and threw his legs in the air.
Erik turned to face in the opposite direction and then straddled him, one
knee on either side of his head.  Pressing his lips firmly against the
boy's smooth asshole, Eric sucked on it hungrily and struck it with his
tongue.  It's dank aroma and mushroom flavour caused his heart to ache with
desire.  Gil meanwhile began to lick the dangling nut sac that had been
waving temptingly inches above his face.  Erik inhaled deeply, breathing in
the raw muskiness of Gil's asshole as Gil buried his nose in Erik's crotch
and delighted in the spicy aroma of his sweating nads.  The raw, animal
scents of teen sweat and male sexuality had replaced the artificial aromas
of coconut and spring rain, resulting in a new and exciting level of lust
and teen virility.
     His hormones racing through his veins, Erik once again mounted the
smooth, gorgeous, long-haired teen, the love of his life.  As he felt his
cock once again sink deep into the warm, moist depths of Gil's body, he
almost swooned with the pure physical pleasure of their union and the
emotional joy of engaging in this most special expression of their love.
He slowly began the rhythmic humping to and fro hip movement known to all
lovers.  His hard, hot cock slid in and out of his lover's body, sending
ripples of pleasure through Gil's rectum and through Erik's cockhead.
     Erik breathed slowly and deeply as he tried to pace himself, as he
forced himself to slow down and ignore the impulse to thrust his cock in
and out of Gil's hot, moist asshole as rapidly as he could in an attempt to
quell the itch in his cockhead.  It did itch, more than it ever could when
he jerked it off.  He knew part of the reason was because he had abstained
for so long, but he also knew part of the reason was because of his love
for Gil.  He could not help himself.  He began to pump harder.
     It had been love the first time that they'd had sex that day.  This
time it was pure teen lust, the result of racing hormones and a biological
need repressed for far too long in young, healthy bodies.  That need made
their loins ache, but it extended beyond their own desire for an orgasm.
Each wanted to please his partner just as desperately, to bring him to the
most powerful orgasm that he could.  To enjoy the mutual ecstasy of
achieving that "little death" together was the ultimate of pleasures,
physical and mental, that two males could achieve.
     Gil was close to reaching that peak.  He squirmed and quivered
uncontrollably each time he felt his prostate being prodded by the hard,
hot organ slipping in and out of his body.  He knew exactly how Erik's
swollen member was feeling.  His own aching cock jerked each time his
prostate was struck, and another droplet of his clear pre-cum oozed out the
tip.  He inhaled and exhaled deeply, looking up at his lover through
slitted eyes.  Sweat beaded on Gil's forehead and trickled up his raised
thighs and over his hips.
     Erik was panting and sweating even more than Gil, the result of his
lust and of his erotic pushups.  His skin, tanned a rich chocolate brown,
glistened in the hot afternoon sun with a sheen of sweat.  The hot
teenager's cockhead itched and ached with a painful delight as he thrust
his swollen flesh in and out of Gil's pulsating love channel.  His nuts had
drawn up tight at the base of his cock, and the randy sixteen-year-old
groaned with the rapidly escalating tension that precedes a boy's orgasm.
As Erik looked down, Gil's sparkling eyes and parted lips told him the boy
was just as close to climaxing as he was.
     Suddenly the rapidly tightening coil in their loins was sprung.  The
two boys grunted and gasped like two stags in rut as they felt their sperm
begin to rise up the centre of their swollen cocks.  As it gushed up and
out of their bodies, they quivered and whimpered with the waves of pleasure
rippling through their loins.  They froze there, united groin to butt as
their cocks throbbed out their hot, creamy juices.  Their minds screamed
out silently their ecstasy as the twenty-eight-foot Islander sailboat
skimmed along the ocean's surface.
     Afterwards the two boys nestled in each other's arms, delighting in
the warmth and smoothness of each other's naked body.  The pungent scent of
sweat and spilt semen and the ocean, a rich, dank scent as the primeval sea
from which mankind originated must have had, cloaked their bodies and
filled their lungs.  They inhaled the perfume of their sex as though it
were a balm, and they closed their eyes and relished the peace that passed
over them.  Slowly they drifted off to into a deep, contented sleep.
     It was Erik who awoke first, his body sensing something was wrong
before he was even conscious.  Barely awake, he was about to protest the
interruption when he heard the creaking of the deck and the flapping of the
sails.  He immediately opened his eyes.  The sight of the dark black clouds
and the ten-foot crests cleared the sleep from his mind immediately.
Yelling at Gil to wake up as he leaped to his feet, he quickly raced to the
helm.  Untying the wheel, he whipped the sailboat bow to stern, pointing it
into the rapidly approaching storm.
     The urgency in his voice woke Gil immediately, and he too leaped to
his feet.  Taking the wheel for Erik, he was surprised how it wanted to
lurch out of his grasp.  It took all of his concentration and strength to
hold the rudder steady as Erik had instructed.  Erik meanwhile had
scrambled over to the Genoa and lowered it to cut the sailboat's speed
before the wind tore the sail.  By then the wind was whipping across the
deck and waves were splashing down upon the ship, washing anything not
fastened down across the deck and over the sides.  The little boat sunk
down into a trough and Gil was certain the story-tall waves were about to
crash down upon them.  At the last moment he felt himself being raised with
a gut-wrenching speed to crest the wave and then being tossed ahead like a
skipping stone.  Erik called out something about tying off something, but
the storm was too fierce for him to hear exactly what he said.
     Meanwhile Erik had managed to reach the mast and he began to struggle
with the main sail.  The ice-cold waves and wind numbed his fingers and the
canvas flapped fiercely but after a few long, desperate minutes, which
seemed an hour to him, he was able to lower it to half mast.  He smiled
with his achievement and enjoyed the moment of success as he began to
batten down the main sail.
     A sudden blast of wind whipped the rope from his hands and as the boat
began to keel over, he twisted around and looked desperately for something
he could use to tie himself to the railing, forgetting the rope burns to
his fingers.  The boat continued to lean dangerously to starboard.  As the
mainsail dipped into the water, the boat rolled over.
     Gil clung to the wheel in desperation and closed his eyes as the ocean
closed in around him.  All he could think was how much like life this day
had been.  It had begun with apprehension and joyful anticipation.  It
rocketed to a high that could not be more perfect as he and Erik made love,
not once, but twice.  Now his mind was filled with terror, and doom seemed
inevitable.  Then, just as he was sure he could hold his breath no longer,
he felt himself being lifted up and once again he felt the fierce gale
whipping his naked body.  He slowly opened his eyes.
     Somehow the capsized boat had rolled back up to the correct position.
The main sail was gone.  Gil glanced about anxiously.  Erik was nowhere to
be seen.  Gil's heart ached as his eyes strained and he prayed that he'd
spot Erik crouched somewhere, clinging to the mast or something and trying
to stop from being blown overboard by the fierce wind.  The deck was
barren, dumped clean of everything that had not been tied down, including
Erik.  Gil stared blankly at the empty deck.
     This could not be!  This could not have happened!  He had to do
something to save Erik, the first and only true love of his life.  He had
to stop the ship, throw out an anchor or something so he could mark the
spot and search for Erik's body.  Of course that was ridiculous.  No anchor
could hold the boat in that spot even if he had a clue where to look for
one.
     There was nothing he could do.  Erik was overboard, and there was no
way that he could survive in this storm.  In which case he might just as
well be dead himself.  He might as well let go and let himself be washed
overboard too.  Gil tried to find a reason not to, but he could not.  There
was no reason to live without Erik.  There was certainly no way he could
continue to sing of love and happiness with the only boy he'd ever really
loved gone.
     Of course Erik was strong, far stronger than the average
sixteen-year-old.  And he was experienced in the way of the sea.  He would
know what to do if he was ever washed overboard.  He was young, and full of
life.  It was possible he could survive.  Miracles did happen.
     It would have to be a miracle.  The water was ice-cold, and the waves
taller than the height of a two-story house.  Gil knew it was a hopeless
thought, a stupid, childish hopeless thought.  Erik could not still be
alive.  But if Erik was dead, there was all the more reason for him to stay
alive.  If he didn't then there would be nothing left.  There would be
nobody to sing of Erik's love, of his beauty, of his strength, of their
final day together.
     Gil clung to the wheel, wrapping his arms about it and pressing his
legs against the stand.  His muscles were so numb with the cold he could
barely feel anything as his naked body was buffeted by the wind and
battered by the ice-cold waves.  He had to be strong.  He had to hold on if
for no other reason then to keep the memory of Erik alive.  But if that was
all there was, then really, was there any reason for him to continue living
the other half of his brain argued.  Of course there was came the immediate
answer.  If he survived this, he would dedicate the rest of his life to
singing about boys like Erik, about being gay, and about being a teen in
love.  He would write lyrics about what it was like for two boys to be in
love.  It would be a totally different group of fans he'd be singing to
with such songs, that would be for sure, but why not?  Gay boys had every
right to have heartthrobs too.
     A beautiful honey-blond boy singing of gay love?  How long could he do
that before some skinhead bashed his head in?  Better he dies now in the
cold ocean too.  His dream was a futile one.
     Another wave flooded over the ship, and as it bobbed back up and was
flung forward, the unattended wheel spun wildly.  The deck was empty.