On the Beach Ch. 13

Everyone takes time to catch their breath. There is very little action in this chapter. If you're primarily interested in how they put their bodies together, skip this chapter.

Thanks to LarryInSeattle for his editing assistance.

*****

Muriel had told us to beat it, to go back to our own place, but I don't have the energy for the effort, not yet. I wonder what time it is. When I left to come over here, Jill and Jim were having sandwiches. Most days that would imply it was close to noon. But lately, no day has qualified as 'most days'. Most days my father and I don't suck and fuck each other. Most days I don't fuck my little sister. No, we are definitely out of the realm of the ordinary.

I stretch out on the bed. Mark stretches out beside me. I don't really think about it; I'm not trying to start anything or piss him off. I roll over and lie with my head on his chest. His arm goes around my shoulder. I like the way it feels.

"Brah, you sure I'm not gay?" he whispers.

"Yes."

"But I like it when Muriel stuck her finger in my ass," he insists.

"I told you, 'big deal'. Most guys would enjoy having their prostate massaged if they weren't terrified of being called gay. Relax."

"Uh, yeah, but, I mean I liked the little bit that we did."

I hear the worry in his voice. It irritates me but only a little. It's a weird role reversal. Mark is my big brother. He's only a couple years older but still, he's my big brother. I should be asking him for reassurance, for advice.

"Dude, I know I'm gay and I didn't just like fucking Jill; I loved fucking Jill. Does that make me straight? No. People aren't simplistic circuit boards with a switch either 'off' or 'on', at least not most of us. You're straight, trust me, but if you were stuck on a ship for months on end, or in jail, like a lot of dudes, you'd probably get horny enough to take what you can get. As soon as you have the option of being with a woman, bam, there goes your gayness. Fucking relax already."

"What about Jill? What about me?" Mark's voice is strained. "I have access to women, you have access to men. So, what's up with me getting all hard watching you or you loving to fuck Jill, who isn't just a woman, brah, she's our sister. Jesus."

I feel his body tense beneath my cheek. I risk rubbing his chest and belly. I keep my hand well away from his cock.

"I don't know, big brother. That's the truth. I love you. I love Jill. I know that's a different kind of love than I feel for Jim. Fuck dude, it's a different kind of love than I feel for our pater and mater. I've never felt sexual desire for Jill, never, not until the last few days. I never wanted to suck dad off or be fucked by him. I've always loved, and envied, the way you look and your cock but I didn't spend my time fantasizing about having sex with you.

"This weekend the whole fucking world turned upside down. There was just so much sexual energy and tension in the air. I felt like I'd shuffled my stocking feet across a mile-long carpet, every hair was standing up and I knew that when someone got close enough - anyone, BAM, we'd both be in for a helluva jolt.

"And then, when we walked out back the other day and you were naked in the pool, Jesus. I swear dude, I knew you were naked before I got near the pool. I knew, with total fucking certainty you'd been jerking off. I swear man, I could smell your jizz in the air. And for the first time ever, I thought, 'I wished I could have watched' and then 'I wish I could have jerked it for him, then 'sucked it' then 'had it in my ass'. Dude, I completely fucking lost it. Inside my head I was seeing you naked, Jim naked, I was sucking both of you, fucking both of you, getting fucked by both of you. Jim? Fuck, dude, you must know by now he was in my head a lot, but not you. Not until that afternoon.

"It just snowballed from there. It's a shit analogy but if I stick with the circuit board idea, it was like there was just too much current for our brains and cocks and pussies and libidos to keep channeled. It was a total shit storm of sexual energy that no surge protector in the world could handle."

Mark didn't say anything while I spoke. He wasn't a big one for interrupting anyway. He was quiet for long enough I was afraid he was sliding back into that dark place in his head that sent him running over here in the first place.

***

I pay attention to Bill. My little brother is fucking sharp, man. His head is on tight and he keeps his shit in order, most of the time anyway. His hand on my chest and belly feels nice. I realize that acknowledging it feels nice doesn't seem to be freaking me out. Bill is being careful not to let his hand go very low. Shortly after, I realize not only that I don't care that his hand feels nice but that I want his hand to go lower.

"I don't think it's such a shitty analogy," I tell him, pulling my thoughts away from the feel of his hand. "It makes as much sense as anything else."

Bill is laying partly on my chest and partly on my right arm. I shift slightly, freeing my arm. It circles behind him and I pull him closer. Now his head rests entirely on my chest. I let my fingers roam over his back and, with my arm fully extended, my fingertips brush the top of his ass crack.

"Bill?"

"Hmm?" he murmurs, half asleep on my chest.

"I want to feel you inside me, not right now but sometime, sometime before all this craziness has to stop."

His hand drops over my dick. It feels nice there. He raises his head to look at me. "Okay, that makes you gay," he says with a straight face. He laughs before I can comment. When he speaks again it's clear he's not fucking with me.

"You understand that, too? he whispers. "That it has to stop. As great as it is, it has to stop, right?"

"Yeah," I agree. "I can't see how it can continue, not and have a normal life. I mean, what the fuck, we all going to move back home, go to work, come home and fuck whoever? No, brah. It'll have to end."

Bill lets his hand rest atop my dick. It's half-hard, half-soft but it doesn't matter. He's not trying to get me off. He's not trying to stroke it. It feels good, just resting there.

I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of closeness. I've always loved my brother but I haven't always felt close to him. I roll to face him, cup his cheek with my free hand, and kiss him; kiss my brother. It's not a Euro style man-to-man kiss. I kiss him like I would kiss any other lover. It's a long kiss. I feel my dick move more toward the fully hard side of the equation but I'm not interested in getting off. Not now. I pull away.

"You think Jill will understand?" I ask. He understands Jill better than I do. "I'm not sure she does. She has this irritating habit of thinking if she likes something it has to be fine and will always be fine and 'gee, what's the problem' attitude. I'm afraid she's in for a big letdown. Or blow up."

Bill nods. "I'm not sure that she gets that either. I know what you mean. It worries me, too. She's really never had to deal with anything hard. She thinks she's tough. She might be. I don't know. Problem is, neither does she. Bigger problem is she doesn't know that she doesn't know. Someday, some serious shit storm is gonna hit her. She'll either discover she's tough. Or she'll fall apart. I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it."

I nod and scoot off the bed.

"Come on, little bro, Muriel's right, as usual. We should head home. See if everyone is all smiles or if the place is covered in blood with dead bodies all over."

Bill stands and stretches. He lets out a deafening groan-slash-moan. That's probably why I didn't hear Muriel coming down the hall. He lowers his arm as his whole body shudders. I wait until I have his attention. I have to tell someone.

"Brah, I think I'm falling in love with Muriel."

He doesn't answer. His eyes dart past my shoulder. I know, before I bother to turn, that Muriel will be standing in the door.

***

I am not about to cry. Oh, I want to bad enough but I learned long ago giving in to what you want is not always best. I can think of two or three reasons to give in to a good bawl but not now.

I smile at Mark, pat his cheek and give him a quick kiss. Then I do the same for Bill. Mark looks like he's going to be sick. Bill looks sad. I know how they both feel.

"Go on, you two - get, see what that hellion of a sister of yours is up to. Don't let her pick on your momma. I love Jill as much as you lunk heads but that doesn't mean I won't get on her if she upsets your momma." I start to turn away and pause. "Jim, too. He's awfully helpless when it comes to Jill. She's a smart girl, not a mean bone in her that I've ever seen, but she can be a little head-strong at times. Poor Jim might not have a handle yet on dealing with her. Oh, and your daddy. Well, hell's bells, don't let her run over the two of you either - or me." I flap a hand at them to shoo, seems the safest course since I can't seem to stop my mouth from running away with itself.

I head back down the hall toward the kitchen. My little hallway seems to stretch on forever. I walk, not thinking, and round the counter into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup. When I turn around, Bill is standing in the entrance to my little galley kitchen. Mark is behind him, looking a little less pale.

Bill wraps his arms around me. He feels so strong, so solid. I hug back with my free arm. I feel my eyes welling up and step away.

"Go on now. Beat it." I look at Mark. "We'll talk later. Don't go getting all knotted up. I know you didn't mean me to hear what you were saying to your brother. I'm touched, flattered but don't worry, honey, I'm not holding you to words you spoke in private. When you come to your senses my feelings ain't gonna be hurt. Go on now. Vamoose."

Mark opens his mouth. I give him a little shake of my head. I really do need the two of them, Mark most especially, to beat it. I need to think, collect my wits and get back into my right mind before I do something foolish.

They leave. Mark pauses at the door. Bill, Lord love him, puts a hand on his shoulder and keeps him moving forward.

I consider hollering for him to come back. I don't. I put my coffee cup back on the counter and drag myself back to my bedroom, lie down and tell myself I can have a bit, just a little bit, of the cry I've been holding back.

***

"I'm such a fucking idiot. Goddamn it. Fuck."

Bill doesn't look at me when he speaks. "What are you a fucking idiot about? Thinking you might be falling in love with Muriel? Or letting her hear you say it?"

"Letting her hear me."

"Why? If it's true are you planning on hiding it from her?"

"What? No. Why would I?"

"Why? Because she's at least twenty years older than you. Because you know that and think it would be a mistake to try to act on what you're feeling."

"Huh? No. That's not what I mean at all. I'm not stupid. I know how weird it sounds, but I'm not worried about that part of it, not yet anyway. No, what a stupid way for someone to find out you've got feelings, not just a jones, for them."

"Well, big brother, I assumed that's what you meant but Muriel might be worrying that you didn't want her to know because you don't want any part of that kind of relationship."

I stop and stare at him. He stares back.

"You really imagine that's what she's thinking?"

Bill shrugs. "Well, yeah."

I turn.

"I have to talk to her. Now."

"No, dude. Let her be. She's tired. She's happy. She's sad. Let her be."

"No way, brah."

I take the steps three at a time. I slide the patio door back so hard I stop to make sure I didn't break it.

"Muriel!"

"What's wrong? Something happened?"

Her voice is coming from the bedroom. I head that way. I meet her as she's coming out the bedroom door.

"I don't care if you heard me. I'm not ashamed of it. I don't care if the whole fucking world knows. I'm just total tripping at the idea."

Muriel's eyes are all shiny. She cups my cheek. Her hand is warm and fits my face perfectly. A line from a song plays inside my head - 'like two puzzle pieces from the clay'.

"That's the problem, sweetie. Her voice is soft and sad and I realize she's going to fight me on this. "You're tripping, as you put it, and tripping is never real. You've been upset and confused and I'm a good listener and a warm body. Don't mistake comfort for love."

I looked at her, astonished.

"Why not? Love is comfort. It's a lot more than that but if it's not 'comfortable' it sure as fuck isn't 'love' is it?" I push my face into her palm. "Hang on. Just a minute."

I hurry back to the deck. Bill looks up.

"Go on, brah. I'll catch up."

He stares back at me for a second, then nods. He doesn't shrug. That's good. Shrugs mean "whatever dude". Nods mean "I get it". Or at least that's my hope.

Muriel's shower is as big as the one in the master bath in the rental but we'll make it work.

***

"Damn it, Mark."

I try to sound exasperated but I'm afraid all I sound like is tired, a tired old woman. My tears catch me by surprise. I've managed to keep the faucet turned to nothing more than a slow drip but all of a sudden the water works let go. Thank God, I'm able to swallow those donkey bray sobs I'm prone to on the rare occasion when I completely go to pieces.

I don't resist when his arms go around me. I fold my arms against my chest and let him wrap me up tight. His body is so warm, so smooth and so strong. I cannot let myself do this, to let him do it. He'll be hurt in the end. Ben will hate me. Meg will despise me. Shit. Shit. Goddamn shit fuck hell.

***

She's all cuddled up against my chest. Her face is wet. Her hair smells like...her. I guess I could identify some of the individual scents if I wanted to but why? I'm not interested in the individual scents; my interest is in the medley of scents my brain knows as 'Muriel'. Muriel's hair. Muriel's breath. Muriel's sweat. Her pussy. I spent most of my college years with whatshername and I realize I barely remember the color of her eyes much less what her hair smelled like.

Muriel lets me hold her. I realize my mouth is making shushing sounds against the top of her head. She sighs. Her breathing slows.

"Come on," I tell her as I step back and take her hand. My dick is a little hard. I can't help that. I'm not interested in sex. She has comforted me. It's my turn.

I get the shower adjusted. I offer her a hand, feeling like a knight helping his lady into a carriage. I step in with her. It's hard to bathe her without touching the chilly sticky shower curtain. I wash her and then shampoo her hair. She huddles against my chest again and we sway under the warm water. When it's my turn, she washes me. It's gentle, loving, comforting. My dick gets hard in her hand but not from lust.

We dry each other off.

I resist the temptation to say the words again. It's too soon. I need to show her it doesn't matter to me first.

"Come on," I whisper with my lips against her forehead. "Let's go see what's going on in the snake pit."

She shakes her head.

"No, Mark. That's something you need to figure out with your family. Come back over anytime but I should keep my nose out of it."

"Don't be a dope. Even if I hadn't said what I said, and meant by the way, you were already part of the family. Us kids simply didn't realize how much a part until the past few days. You're coming with me. Or I'm not going."

"Is everyone in your family a stubborn pain in the ass?"

"You know the answer to that, maybe better than I do," I snort. "Come on."

***

"I'm taking a shower, by myself."

I glare at everyone but especially my pain-in-the-ass daughter.

"Don't give me the stink eye, ya old witch," Jill tells me with a smirk. Then jumps into my arms.

"I love you, mom," she whispers against my chest.

I stroke her hair, unconscious of the fact we're both naked. I'm simply a mom hugging her daughter.

"I know, baby girl. I love you, too. Even if you are a damn she-devil."

"Apple? Tree? Ring any bells?" She laughs as she skips, literally skips, out of my bedroom.

I shake my head at Jim.

"Go see what you can do with her."

"Yes, ma'am but I don't hold high hopes in that regard."

"You're wise beyond your years." I assure him. He nods and starts to leave. I lay my hand on his arm and he pauses. "Jim, I'm so terribly sorry for what I said."

He bends at the waist and kisses me. It's on the lips. I don't seem to mind. I wonder if Ben does.

"No need to apologize, Mrs C. You have to drop a piano on her to get her attention."

"Thank you, Jim. She's a lucky girl." He starts to turn again and I tighten my fingers. "I think it's okay of you call me 'Meg' at this point."

"I suppose that's so but I like 'Mrs C', at least for a little while longer. Okay?"

I nod, feeling like crying for some reason. This time I let him go when he turns.

"He's a pretty amazing young man," Ben says as he turns to follow.

I lean forward and touch the soft skin of his fuzzy butt.

"I changed my mind, Ben." I smile at him as I drag myself out of the bed. "Take a shower with me, sweetheart. Just us. Okay?"

"Of course, Meg. Always."

***

"What have you been up too? As if I couldn't guess," Jill calls with a smirk as I slide open the patio door. I notice Jim's face tighten. I think it's directed at my sister, not me. When he looks at me, his smile seems real enough.

"What up, cracker?"

"Hungry? Is it breakfast time or lunch?"

"Neither one. Middle of the afternoon. Too late for lunch. You'll have to wait for supper. Serves you right lollygagging around half the day. Hell man, you ain't even dressed yet?"

I sweep my eyes in an exaggerated leer over his body. Shit, he looks good.

"So? Neither are you?"

"Yeah but dude, difference is I look fucking good naked as a jaybird. I ain't no scrawny, pasty-looking white boy looks like he just pecked his way out an egg somewhere."

"Hey?" Jill cries and slaps him on the back of his arm. "That's my brother you're talking about and even if he is my brother, and gay, he looks just fine, more than fine, in his altogether."

"Girl, take a look at him and then a look at me."

Jill screws her face up and starts to open her mouth but Jim interrupts her.

"He got a dick. I got a dick. He's a man. I'm a man. This is how two men talk to each other, especially when their naked." He grins at me. "I know he wants to suck my beautiful black cock but we're both going to pretend like I don't. In the same spirit, my brother by a different mother over there, is going to pretend like he's still worried that me knowing that will freak me out, which it don't. So, to be more succinct, see us black men know big words too, shut the hell up and let me bond with your brother in my own way."

He's smiling as he talks. He makes it sound like a joke but underneath it he's telling Jill to back off. He doesn't need, or want, her opinion about every syllable that comes out of his mouth. Is she smart enough to see that I wonder?

"Men are fucking bizarre," Jill says, shaking her head.

"That's not what you were saying a few minutes ago," Jim retorts.

"Not to intrude or anything, but how come you two are making sandwiches if we aren't allowed to eat until suppertime?" I ask.

"'Cause I'm exhausted from laying pipe all damn night and morning, that's why," Jim replies. "Your sister," his smile threatens to split his face into, "and yo mama are needy women. Good thing you're gay and all."

"Did you just pull a 'yo mama' joke? You a proud black man, resorting to stereotypical ghetto humor?" I shake my head. "Sad. Very sad."

Jim chuckles. "Bitch, I ain't joking."