said. “I don’t have much of a choice. I’ll
explain why I’m doing this later. But trust me, it’s not something I’m looking forward to
either. It was strictly a financial decision. You have to trust me.”
She stared at him for a moment, then she lifted her eyebrows, smiled, and patted
the top of his hand. “I see.”
Brighton jumped off her chair and shouted, “Well, I can’t wait, Dad. I can’t wait
to be on TV.” Then she looked down at Cleo, under the table waiting for a piece of food
to drop. “And Cleo can’t wait either.”
After dinner, Dexter, Brighton, and Cleo took a walk into town for ice cream.
They walked all the way up to a new little ice cream shop in the east end, and then back
to Keel Cottage. By the time they were home, it was well past Brighton’s bedtime and Marion brought her upstairs for her bath. Dexter yawned a few times and told them he
was going to bed early, too. He said he wanted to start a new novel that night, and if he
waited until later he’d never do it.
But the real reason he was going to bed early was because of what had happened
in his room before dinner. He couldn’t stop thinking about Captain Lang; he still wasn’t
sure if it had all been a dream.
When he went into his bedroom, he closed the door and clicked the lock. He
looked around the room and saw that it was empty. He gulped and said, “Are you here
now? Are you in this room?”
No one answered.
If there really was a ghost, and it was Captain Lang, Dexter knew one simple,
direct way to get his attention. Dexter had a feeling he knew what Captain Lang liked,
and he was more than willing to give it to him. So he went to the bed and removed his
shoes and socks. He pulled off his shirt and dropped his pants. When he was naked, he
picked up his clothes and slowly moved to one of the wing chairs in front of the fireplace.
He dropped his clothes on a chair, lifted his arms, and stretched. His back arched and his
ass rounded out. Then he walked to the bed, pulled back the duvet, and lowered his body
to the mattress face down.
When he was flat on the bed, he spread his legs and shoved a pillow beneath his
stomach. “If you’re watching me right now, come to bed.” He couldn’t believe he was
talking to a ghost.
A minute later, Dexter felt a gentle breeze brush against his naked ass. When he
lifted his head and looked back toward the fireplace, he saw Lang standing next to a wing chair. Lang was also naked, except for his sea captain’s hat. The hat tilted down, over his
right eyebrow, and covered half his forehead. He was holding a full erection in his
massive palm.
This was, indeed, real. And Dexter knew that he hadn’t been dreaming.
Lang lowered his chin and said, “I was watching you while you undressed for bed.
I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to watch.”
Dexter rested his cheek against the pillow and spread his legs wider. He said, “I
knew you were watching, and that’s why I took my time. It’s okay.” Dexter had never
admitted his harmless private exhibitionism to anyone, not even to Michael, and he’d
been with Michael for years. “For some reason I can’t explain, I feel close to you.”
Dexter reached back with his right hand and ran it slowly up and down the right side of
his smooth ass. His entire body was tan that year. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Do you want me to come to bed?”
Dexter lifted his arms and stretched. “Yes,” he said. He wanted to be filled with
Lang’s erection again; he wanted Lang to rub his beard across the back of his neck. And
he wanted to be in Lang’s strong, safe arms all night long.
Lang climbed up on the bed and mounted him. He kissed the back of Dexter’s
neck and said, “You are absolutely the most beautiful young man I’ve ever known.” Then
he
explain why I’m doing this later. But trust me, it’s not something I’m looking forward to
either. It was strictly a financial decision. You have to trust me.”
She stared at him for a moment, then she lifted her eyebrows, smiled, and patted
the top of his hand. “I see.”
Brighton jumped off her chair and shouted, “Well, I can’t wait, Dad. I can’t wait
to be on TV.” Then she looked down at Cleo, under the table waiting for a piece of food
to drop. “And Cleo can’t wait either.”
After dinner, Dexter, Brighton, and Cleo took a walk into town for ice cream.
They walked all the way up to a new little ice cream shop in the east end, and then back
to Keel Cottage. By the time they were home, it was well past Brighton’s bedtime and Marion brought her upstairs for her bath. Dexter yawned a few times and told them he
was going to bed early, too. He said he wanted to start a new novel that night, and if he
waited until later he’d never do it.
But the real reason he was going to bed early was because of what had happened
in his room before dinner. He couldn’t stop thinking about Captain Lang; he still wasn’t
sure if it had all been a dream.
When he went into his bedroom, he closed the door and clicked the lock. He
looked around the room and saw that it was empty. He gulped and said, “Are you here
now? Are you in this room?”
No one answered.
If there really was a ghost, and it was Captain Lang, Dexter knew one simple,
direct way to get his attention. Dexter had a feeling he knew what Captain Lang liked,
and he was more than willing to give it to him. So he went to the bed and removed his
shoes and socks. He pulled off his shirt and dropped his pants. When he was naked, he
picked up his clothes and slowly moved to one of the wing chairs in front of the fireplace.
He dropped his clothes on a chair, lifted his arms, and stretched. His back arched and his
ass rounded out. Then he walked to the bed, pulled back the duvet, and lowered his body
to the mattress face down.
When he was flat on the bed, he spread his legs and shoved a pillow beneath his
stomach. “If you’re watching me right now, come to bed.” He couldn’t believe he was
talking to a ghost.
A minute later, Dexter felt a gentle breeze brush against his naked ass. When he
lifted his head and looked back toward the fireplace, he saw Lang standing next to a wing chair. Lang was also naked, except for his sea captain’s hat. The hat tilted down, over his
right eyebrow, and covered half his forehead. He was holding a full erection in his
massive palm.
This was, indeed, real. And Dexter knew that he hadn’t been dreaming.
Lang lowered his chin and said, “I was watching you while you undressed for bed.
I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to watch.”
Dexter rested his cheek against the pillow and spread his legs wider. He said, “I
knew you were watching, and that’s why I took my time. It’s okay.” Dexter had never
admitted his harmless private exhibitionism to anyone, not even to Michael, and he’d
been with Michael for years. “For some reason I can’t explain, I feel close to you.”
Dexter reached back with his right hand and ran it slowly up and down the right side of
his smooth ass. His entire body was tan that year. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Do you want me to come to bed?”
Dexter lifted his arms and stretched. “Yes,” he said. He wanted to be filled with
Lang’s erection again; he wanted Lang to rub his beard across the back of his neck. And
he wanted to be in Lang’s strong, safe arms all night long.
Lang climbed up on the bed and mounted him. He kissed the back of Dexter’s
neck and said, “You are absolutely the most beautiful young man I’ve ever known.” Then
he
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