Commander Ted Taylor stripped off his soaking-wet, body-clinging tennis whites just inside the porch door to his Overlook Drive cottage. His house was a boathouse converted into a cozy cottage jutting out over the water in a cove of the Severn River in the Mariner’s Cove section of Annapolis, Maryland. The old residential neighborhood was conveniently located between the Route 301 bridge over the river and the Naval Academy. The main house had burned down before he acquired the property and the front of the lot was now overgrown with foliage.
He took a look at the thermometer on the porch, grunting at seeing it was 94 degrees in the shade, as he’d entered the cottage and, with a grateful sigh, stripped down to the altogether.
He'd only kept the Academy tennis team he coached as a phys ed instructor at the Naval Academy on the courts for an hour, as it was just too damn hot out there today. They squared off against Princeton next weekend and he didn’t want any of his guys to go down with heat stroke. The sports programs were important at the Academy to keeping the midshipmen in hard-bodied fighting trim. Conditioning and using the body to its max was a priority to Commander Taylor as well—his body was well as the students’ bodies. He had a personal fitness program that kept them coming back for more.
He walked nude through the living and dining room combination area with the galley kitchen tucked in at the left and up the stairs to where a hall with a bath and bedroom to the right and a laundry room and bedroom to the left led back to a screened porch spanning the width of the building. The bedroom section jutted out over the water, with two boat slips underneath. This was where he kept his vintage 1960 Chris-Craft 24 sportsman motor launch.
At a very fit thirty-two, Taylor walked proud, not only because he liked going nude in his house but also because his life pursuit was getting the most out of one’s body. He was a strapping six-foot-two Greek-heritage Adonis. His whole life had been devoted to honing the bodies of his young men and his own in every way and to every classic Greek purpose. He was built, cut, hung, and hanging. His relations with his students were patterned on the ancient Greek mentoring system, and the students signing on to this liked it just fine.
As he came out of the shower and was rubbing himself off, he heard the phone ring. He decided to let it go to voice mail or just die in a scammer’s inability to get him to answer. The voice mail clicked on, though, and announced that it was the Emergency Operations Center calling.
“This is an emergency alert to watch out for a disoriented, eighty-year-old man, Glen Gaugh, who left his Riverview Avenue house in the Mariner’s Cove section between noon and 1:00 pm. He is thought to be in the nude . . .”
Riverview Avenue was the main road going through the neighborhood.
The announcement went on, but Ted had laughed at the thought of an eighty-year-old man roaming around the neighborhood in he nude, and he missed the rest of what was said. He cut off the laugh, though, realizing it was no laughing matter for a man that old to be out in nearly 100-degree heat, whether or not he was clothed.
Whatever. He hadn’t seen such a man when he was driving back from the academy and there was little chance he see him on Overlook Drive, which was a short dead-end street nosing into a cove off the Severn River. His cottage, the former boathouse of a bigger house on the street, which had burned down, was pretty isolated for being close in to the Naval Academy. Ted liked it that way. He had young men in frequently—he was highly sexed and mentored his Academy students in the Greek tradition—and it suited him to have his privacy here.
Remaining in the nude, he went padded across the hall and into the guest bedroom, where he had fucked one of the Academy midshipmen, Randy, the previous night. Randy was a gymnast and they’d been swinging from the chandelier as Ted put the student through demanding positions. The bed looked like a battle had been fought there, and in terms of Ted pounding Randy into submission that wasn’t far off the mark. He’d been rough but Randy had begged to come back for more, so Ted was content with their relations.
He stripped the bedding and took it into the laundry room. Realizing then that he was thirsty, he went down the stairs into the great room and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.
It was then that he glanced through one of the front windows to see that someone was sitting in one of the rattan rockers on his front porch. It was a white-haired old man and Ted could see from here that the man was naked.
“Well, shit,” he exclaimed and headed for the porch.
He didn’t give a thought to being naked himself when he opened the front door and spoke to the man, “Hey, old fellah. You lost or something?”
The old man looked up at him and smiled. He didn’t seem a bit surprise to find the man at the door naked.
“Gene? Is that you? I don’t know where I am. I left lunch to go take a nap, but this isn’t my room.” But then he paused and said, “But you’re not Gene. You’re big and hung. Gene’s but a slip of a young man.”
“No, I’m not, Gene,” Ted said. “But how about you come inside where it’s cooler? It’s too hot out here. Who is Gene? Shall we call him to come pick you up? Here, let me help you inside.”
The man didn’t resist. Ted settled him in the living room and went over behind the island in the galley kitchen, poured the man a glass of ice water, and brought it back.
“Sorry for not having anything on,” he said, suddenly self-conscious about having gone to the porch in the nude. Still, he was amused. The old man and tall, but gaunt and wrinkly, but not badly built for an eighty-year-old, was naked too. A perfectionist in body sculpting and use, Ted’s first thoughts in meeting someone new was to assess their bodies and preferences.
“Oh, it’s all right. Gene and I go naked in the house too.”
So, that explained that. The old man, three sheets to dementia, had made a wrong turn on his way to take a nap in the house and had wound up in unknown territory several streets over. “Gene? Is he your son?”
“No. My grandson. He works at the marina.”
Ted didn’t think the man could be prompted to identify which marina or any further information on what put the old codger on the street nude. He realized, though, that the Emergency Operations Center message would still be on his voice mail. So, he checked out the message and went back to the old man.
“So, Mr. Gaugh. Glen, is it? How about I call and get you back with your grandson.”
“That would be nice. I called for him in the house a few times, but he didn’t answer. Must be at work. He’s a good boy, although I think he gets a bit too free with himself.”
“Gets in trouble with the women? He’s a real looker, is he?” Ted asked as he was dialing the contact number given in the phone message.
“Not exactly, and he looks just fine,” Glen Gaugh answered. He did so with a yawn, and by the time Ted finished with the phone call, he saw that the old man was asleep in the lounge chair.
Ted went up to his bedroom to get some clothes on, but he only had time pull on bikini briefs before he heard a knock on the door.
The policeman on the porch did a double take in seeing that Ted was nearly naked when he answered the door, but Ted notice that the sexy-looking blond guy who couldn’t be more than twenty who was there too didn’t flinch. He did, though, give Ted a look that Ted was quite familiar with in his life of cruising. With luck, this was the grandson and he was a player. He did, as his grandfather had claimed, come out a great looker.
“Sorry, sir. I’m Gene Gaugh. Sorry for the trouble, and thanks for taking my grandfather in.”
Bingo, Ted thought.
“I brought some clothes for him to wear home,” the great looker grandson continued. He stepped forward and held out a short pile of folded clothes. Ted instinctively took them. In the exchange their fingers touched, and Ted felt a surge of electricity go through him. A look at the beautiful young man, dark and sultry, made Ted think the same surge had gone through him. Ted was a magnet for young guys like this who had a preference for other guys, and once they’d been with Ted, they kept coming back to him. The young man was wearing just athletic shorts and a loose athletic T over sneakers without socks, which gave Ted the impression that he’d just thrown on a few clothes to come over here.
What was it the old man had said? Hadn’t he indicated that both he and his grandson frequently went about their house in the nude? Ted would dearly love to see this Gene Gaugh in the nude—and more. The lad really worked his body. Ted didn’t think he was a student—certainly not one at the Academy. More likely he toned his body the old fashioned way—through hard manual work.
They got the old man awake and dressed. As they were leaving, the policeman handing the old man into his cruiser, Gene Gaugh hung back. “I want to thank you again for taking him in and calling. I wish there was something I could do to show my appreciation.”
Of course there is, Ted thought. But that wasn’t what he said. “I’m concerned for him. Would it be too intrusive for me to ask if he had dementia and it’s getting worse?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is. It’s gone to where I’m going to have to find a facility that can take care of him better than I can. This isn’t the first time he’s gone for a walk when he just meant to go to his room. I’ve always gotten to him before he ran too loose. But I can’t be there all of the time. I have to work.”
“There is something you can do for me, then,” Ted said. “When he’s settled somewhere and you don’t have to watch him so closely, could you come back and let me know he’s taken care of?”
“Because you will worry about whether I found someplace for him?”
“Yes, of course,” Ted said. No, you dummy, he thought. So that you are free to come over here for the night.
“Or I could call you on the phone,” Gene said, still not getting what Ted was suggesting.
“I’d much prefer you come over in person,” Ted said.
On that, it was like a lightbulb went off over the young man’s head. And this was the delicate decision point. Would he or wouldn’t he? Was Ted gauging the young man right? Ted rarely missed his assessment of a young man.
“Yes, of course,” Gene stammered. “I think I’d like that.”
“I think you will too,” Ted answered, with a smile.
* * * *
Ted had almost forgotten the visit by Gene Gaugh and his grandfather two weeks previously when he heard the knock on the door downstairs. It came as he released into the head of the condom and let loose of the young man’s cock and balls he’d been stroking and squeezing. Randy came almost simultaneously with the Naval Academy instructor. The highly flexible chocolate brown midshipman’s arms had been pulled back around Ted’s waist, with Randy gripping his own ankles, his legs streaming back around Ted’s hips. The lad was arched back like a drawn archery bow, held taut on the front of Ted’s body, as the older man sat on the side of the guestroom bed and pulled the young gymnast on and off his shaft.
They were fucking in the second bedroom of Ted’s Overlook Drive cottage. Ted preferred keeping the master bedroom for his sleep and the second bedroom for sex. He tried to put the guestroom in use nearly every day. He was virile enough to use it several times a day.
“Sir! SIR! God. Shit. You’re a monster. It’s so big!” Randy cried out, as Ted mined his ass channel deep.
“Take it. Open up. Take my cock!”
“YESSS. Oh, fuckin’ shit you’re deep!”
At the sound of the knock, and having released his seed, Ted turned a panting and moaning Randy to his side on the bed, picked up a pair of athletic shorts, and ripped off and tossed the condom in a trashcan on his way down the stairs and to the door. He could see through a front window, though, that it was Gene Gaugh who was knocking, so he didn’t bother to pull the shorts on before answering the door.
Gene sucked in air when he saw a naked Ted in all his glory, still half hard, in the open door.
“Gene,” Ted said, giving the young man a big smile. “Good to see you. Come in. As you can see, I just let it swing at home.”
“You told me to come see you when I’d located my grandfather in a facility.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, I have now. Just came to tell you like you asked me to.”
“Come in. Get comfortable. I’ll get us some beers.”
Gene hesitatingly entered the cottage. In the back of his mind he, of course, knew what he was delivering this information in person at Ted’s cottage, but he wasn’t fully conscious of why he’d come to the man with such a great body and sexual allure.
At the refrigerator, Ted turned and saw that the young man was just standing there. “I said get comfortable. Your granddad said the two of you liked to go naked in the house. We’re in the house. Get naked.”
“Get naked?” Gene said, startled by the bluntness of the man—of the gorgeous hunk of a man. Of the hung, deeply tanned man who, like the man-working-on-the-water Gene was, had distinct tan lines from wearing skimpy Speedos on the water and nothing else. In both of their cases this left a startling contrast in skin tones and focused the attention on the man’s cock and balls. Gene was proud of what he had hanging, but the Ted guy was a hung monster. The effect of how Ted was endowed left men gasping and burbling and their assholes puckering and clutching. Randy was still lying on the guest bed upstairs panting and moaning from how he’d been stretched and used.
“Yes. We’re going to do this naked. Yes, I’m going to fuck you if you don’t turn around and walk out right now. I think you knew that before you came back. I think you want what I’ve got. I know I want to get it inside you.”
Gene didn’t walk out. He stripped, getting comfortable beyond nearly hyperventilating at glances he took of Ted’s magnificent body and engorging shaft. He sat on a sofa. Ted sat down beside him, handing him a beer. Gene took a swig of the beer. Ted put an arm around Gene’s shoulders and grasped the young man’s cock and stroked him with the other one.
“With your granddad relocated, are you going to move on?” Ted asked. “Your granddad said you worked at some sort of marina.”
“Yes, I work at the Dreams Landing Marina,” Gene answered, his voice a little strangled in response to Ted’s hand slow-jacking him. “A good job. I’ll stay in my granddad’s house on Riverview at least as long as he’s living. You never know that he might recover and want to move back into the house. I’ll inherit it, but I haven’t thought about what I’ll do with it later. And, yes, Granddad was right. We do like to go naked in the house.”
“Good. We’ll have time to get naked together a lot,” Ted said, kissing Gene in the hollow of his neck. “It’s more fun to have someone else to do that with.”
“This is more than getting naked together,” Gene said.
“Yes, it is. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“If you’re living nearby and I find I like fucking you, you’ll be there to take my cock a lot. And, as you can see, I’ve got a lot of cock to give.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Gene said, pulling away, rising, and heading to the kitchen with his empty beer can. He’d found the trashcan, when Ted, a solid six-foot-two to Gene’s willowy five-foot-nine, saddled up close behind him and embraced him in his arms. One of Ted’s hands went to worrying the naked young man’s nipples and the other grasped Gene’s cock again and stroked him. The rise in the young man’s erection gave proof to what he wanted.
Gene initially went rigid, but as Ted continued working him with his hands, kissed him in the hollow of his throat, and got his own erection into the young man’s crack and rubbed up and down on Gene’s puckering hole, the young man relaxed in his arms.
“What is it you want from me, Gene?” Ted whispered in the young man’s ear, nibling on the lobe. “Feel me at your hole, Gene. Feel my want for you. What do you want from me, Gene? Tell me what you want. You have to tell me you want it.”
Gene gasped and let out a long, low moan. “Fuck me,” he murmured. “I want you to fuck me.”
“What was that? What do you want?” Ted asked. He gave a low, guttural laugh.
“Fuck me. Screw me. Put it in me and pound me!” Gene cried out.
“Have you seen my boat, Gene? It’s a classic. A 1960 Chris-craft. Beautiful wood. Let’s go for a ride in my boat. It’s under the house here.”
“Boat? Ride? Under the house?” Was he changing the topic? Had the man been teasing him about sex—about fucking him?
No he hadn’t. They weren’t taking the boat out on the river for a ride. Ted rode Gene’s ass, the young man lying inside the boat as it remained docked under the house, his legs hooked on Ted’s shoulders, while Ted knelt between his spread thighs and gave him nearly a foot of ass-splitting cock. And then Ted lay in the boat on his back and Gene rode the cock in a bucking Cowboy.
Ted normally would have taken the young man to his guestroom to fuck him, but Randy was there. Ted trusted Randy would have the good sense to dress and be gone before he and Gene returned to the cottage. But Randy would come back for more. All of Ted’s young men came back for more.
Ride, Gene, ride.
“Screw me hard! Fuck me deep!”
That’s just what naked Ted did, adding another young ass to his list—gaining another conquest on the strength of his magnificent nakedness. Like an ancient Greek mentor, Ted took care of all of his young students’ educational and body conditioning needs. They always came back for more.
