different holidays?”
“All the major holidays already have planned events,” Elliot said. “The new
president thinks it’s time for a change on Memorial Day weekend and he’s fighting hard
to get it through. And he’s using the love of art as his excuse. The problem is that the
restaurants, bars, and hotels are all for the change. They want to stop the fundraiser and
do the art show. But the retail businesses are against it. Retail business in Provincetown is
hard enough as it is, but to have a flea market up and down Commercial Street with
vendors selling their junk is competition we don’t need. Not to mention the most
important factor: the fundraiser helps out a lot of people with AIDS. These people depend
on the money from this fundraiser.”
“What kind of fundraiser is this?” Dexter asked. He’d never been to Provincetown
on Memorial Day weekend.
“It’s a swimming event,” Elliot said. “Kind of like a walk-a-thon, but in the water.
The new chamber president doesn’t think it’s important enough for Provincetown. He
wants something that will bring, and I quote, ‘a more high-end clientele into town.’”
“I still don’t fully understand the problem,” Dexter said. “Why can’t you hold the
fundraiser on another weekend?” “First, because it’s tradition,” Elliot said. “We hold that event each year on
Memorial Day. The new president of the chamber is new in town and he has no right to
dictate and mess around with town tradition. Second, because this art festival will kill
business for the small retail shops in town on a very important business weekend. I’ve
seen how these things work in other towns. It’s murder for retail shops. Also, it’s causing
a rift between the retail businesses and the service businesses in town. Service businesses
don’t need help. Hotels, restaurants, and bars in this town don’t have to worry about
surviving. There will always be people spending money on shelter and booze. But try to
get them to buy a pair of jeans, or a shirt, or a book. It’s not easy in a rough economy or a
good economy. I’ve been in business for over five years and I’ve see more than a few
small retail shops fold in that time span.”
“Why can’t you have both events on the same weekend?” Dexter asked.
“If the town allowed us to do it, we’d think about it,” Elliot said. “But the
chamber president doesn’t want the fundraiser anymore, and the Board of Selectmen
thinks it would cause too much traffic.”
“I see,” Dexter said. He knew nothing about business, but what Elliot was saying
made sense. He knew that in his financial situation, he wouldn’t be spending money on
clothes, but he would spend money on food and the occasional drink at a bar. “But what
could I possibly do to help? I don’t even own a business in town.”
“Join the association and help us fight this,” Elliot said. “You don’t have to own a
business in town. You own a home and you’re part of the community now. The new
president of the chamber doesn’t own a business either, yet he’s the one trying to cancel
the fundraiser. It’s not going to be an easy fight, trust me. But you can get something interesting for the reality show you’re doing. If this controversy builds like I think it will
build, there are going to be a lot of interesting moments. With you being a real
Hollywood celebrity, we might be able to gain a little power. Plus, we’ll get national
exposure. Are you interested?”
Dexter took a deep breath and stared out at the ocean. It sounded like a case of the
little guys going up against the big guys. And he liked the fact that he’d be fighting for a
valid cause that provided money for people with AIDS. So he reached out for Elliot’s
hand, shook it, and said, “Count me in.”
* * * *
The school bus dropped Brighton off at three o’clock. When Dexter walked into
the house at five, she was sitting at the kitchen table helping Marion bake an apple pie.
She was mixing the apples and sugar and spices with her hands; they were coated with
sticky brown goop. Cleo barked and wagged his tail. and Brighton jumped off her chair
and ran to the back door to give him a hug. When she wrapped her arms around Dexter’s
waist, she left imprints of apple pie filling on his black swim trunks.
“Oh, Brighton,” Marion said, shaking her head, “Look what you’ve done to your
father’s shorts.” Marion was spotlessly clean. There wasn’t a morsel of apple pie filling
on her hands and she was the one making the pie.
Dexter looked down at his shorts. “I’m fine, Marion. They were going into the
hamper anyway.”
Brighton stepped back with a guilty expression on her face, and then a voice from
the other side of the kitchen said, “I think it looks delightful. I wish I could taste food,
because I’d lick the mess off your pants.” Captain Lang. He was standing beside Marion, with his hands in the pockets of
his dark sea captain’s pants.
Dexter looked up at him and said, “You’d better be good. There’s a child in the
room.” But after he spoke, his mouth fell and his eyes opened wide. He knew Marion and
Brighton couldn’t see or hear Captain Lang. They had no idea to whom he was talking.
Marion stopped mixing the apple pie filling. She gave Dexter a blank look and
said, “What did you say, Mr. Moore?”
Captain Lang was standing directly behind Marion now. His hands were above
her head and he was waving them back and forth. Marion had no idea he was there.
Dexter cleared his throat fast and said, “That pie had better be good, because I’m
starved today for some reason.”
Marion lifted a large wooden spoon and waved it in his direction. “My pies are
always good, Mr. Moore. I’ll give you an extra-large slice after dinner tonight.”
Captain Lang raised an eyebrow and said, “I’ll give you something extra large,
too Dexter.”
“C’mon now,” Dexter said. “This is just wrong.”
“Oh, stop worrying,” Lang said. “They can’t hear a word I’m saying.”
Marion looked up from the bowl and lowered her eyebrows. “What is wrong, Mr.
Moore? I don’t understand.” Then she put down the spoon and asked, “Are you feeling
all right?”
“I’m sorry, Marion,” Dexter said. “I was just thinking aloud.” Then he squatted
down so he could look Brighton in the eye. When they were face to face, he smiled and
said, “I made a new friend today. His name is Elliot and he owns a clothing store in town. He’s going to get me involved in a very important community problem. There’s a hot
issue brewing in town between the retail businesses and the chamber of commerce.”
Captain Lang put his hands on his hips and frowned. “Is this Elliot fellow good
looking, Dexter?”
This time Dexter ignored him. He gave him a look and shook his head.
But Marion said, “You just be careful, Mr. Moore. I know these small New
England towns. When they start getting hot over an issue, it can get pretty vicious, let me
tell you.”
Captain Lang folded his arms across his chest. “How old is this Elliot fellow?”
“It’s none of business,” Dexter said. He said it with a nice, even tone. He
was flirting with Lang. But then he rolled his eyes. It was hard to remember that no one
else could see or hear Lang, and it looked as if he was talking to himself. Dexter knew he
had to make a conscious effort or they would think he’d lost his mind.
“I know it’s none of my business, Mr. Moore,” Marion said. “But I grew up in
one of these little New England towns. I know what I’m talking about.” She was stirring
the apple pie filling again. She thought Dexter was talking to her this time. Thankfully,
she didn’t take offense to his comment.
Dexter kissed Brighton on the cheek and stood up. “I’m going upstairs for a nap
now. I’ll be down again at seven and we can talk about this during dinner. I’m curious to
hear some of your stories about small New England towns, Marion.”
She was staring into the pie bowl. But she raised the wooden spoon and said, “Oh,
I have plenty, Mr. Moore. You’d be surprised at how mean these things can get.” By the time Dexter reached his bedroom, Captain Lang was already there,
standing in front of the middle window in the turret, looking out to sea. He was naked,
with his hands on his hips and his legs spread apart. Dexter knew there was a huge penis
hanging between his legs on the other side.
Dexter entered the room and smiled. He closed the door and locked it twice to
make sure he wouldn’t be disturbed. When he saw Captain Lang’s wide muscular back
his eyes grew wide. And when he looked lower and saw his tight, small buttocks, he
licked his lips. From his shoulders down to his waist, his body tapered to a perfect V.
“You have the body of a real man,” Dexter said. “I’ll bet you had a stable of good
looking young guys when you were alive.”
Lang’s head went back and he laughed. He removed his arms from his hips,
placed them behind his back and clasped his hands together. “Not quite,” he said, rocking
on the balls of his feet. “In my day men like me didn’t have the freedom the men of today
have. There were no boyfriends, or partners, or relationships. And we didn’t walk down
the street hand in hand. The experiences I did have were all in dark, secluded places, with
little emotion. I had many experiences with many young men. But nothing that ever
lasted with even the slightest hint of a future.”
Dexter frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry,” Lang said. “It wasn’t your fault. And my
experiences were all very pleasurable.”
Dexter removed his sandals, pulled down his black swim trunks and walked to the
bed. He pulled off his T-shirt and dropped it on the end of the bed. Then he crossed the
room, naked, toward the window. When he reached the spot where Lang was standing, he slowly went down on his knees. Dexter had already given him many blow jobs by then.
But each time, for some reason, sucking him off was always a little different. So he
leaned forward and kissed both sides of Captain Lang’s buttocks, then reached for Lang’s
thighs and slowly turned him around. His thighs were concrete slabs; the muscles moved
as his body turned.
Captain Lang didn’t resist him. His body turned until his thick erection was inches
from Dexter’s lips. Lang reached down and grabbed the shaft with his right hand. He
lifted his erection and rubbed the head against Dexter’s cheek. “You have soft skin,”
Lang said, rubbing the tip of his dick up and down the side of Dexter’s face.
Dexter adjusted his palms on Lang’s upper thighs for support. He knew he was
going to need to hold on to something when he started sucking him off. He looked up at
Lang and smiled. “I’ll bet if you were alive today you’d have a lot of boyfriends. I’d
probably get jealous.”
Lang gently smacked his erection against Dexter’s cheek. “Do you think this
Elliot fellow you met today would be as interested in me as he is in you?”
Dexter smiled. Captain Lang sounded jealous of Elliot. Then he stuck out his
tongue and licked the head of Lang’s penis. “Elliot is just a friend. He’s not interested in
me sexually and I’m not interested in him sexually either.”
Lang lifted his erection and slapped it against Dexter’s face harder. “I know
you’re not interested in him. But I would be surprised to hear he’s not interested in you.
You’re magnificent, with such full, round lips.”
Dexter pressed his lips against the tip of Lang’s penis. His head went from side to
side; his full lips brushed Lang’s penis with tender strokes. “But I’m not interested in him,” Dexter said. “So it doesn’t really matter.” Then he looked into Lang’s eyes and
wrapped his lips around the head of his dick. Dexter’s lips were wet and soft; he didn’t
clamp down hard on Lang’s dick. He wanted to be gentle at first, then build up pressure
so he could suck Lang off to the finish.
The captain’s legs trembled and his head went back. He spread his legs wider and
pushed his pelvis forward. Dexter opened his mouth so he could take a few more inches.
When it was halfway inside his warm, wet mouth, he stuck out his tongue and ran it
across the bottom of the shaft. Lang’s penis had a thick vein; Dexter’s tongue went from
left to right.
Lang’s hips bucked forward, but not too fast. His erection slipped all the way into
Dexter’s mouth and hit the back of Dexter’s throat. Lang moaned out loud, reached down,
and pressed both hands on top of Dexter’s soft head. For a moment, neither one of them
moved. Lang’s dick remained buried in Dexter’s mouth, and Dexter’s tongue gently
