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I began to keep a diary as something of a small void encroached upon my life. Doug and April were gone to Europe. They would return in October. I appreciated the emails and phone calls; but it was not the same. I missed them; but, primarily, I missed Milam. I poured myself into his book. I found links to dozens of essays he had published over the years. Every word made me strong, every word made me long for him even more.

I continued to seek honesty and spiritual freedom. I continued to desire the forbidden. Throughout the month of May, I attended boring parties with coworkers. The guys watched baseball and the women talked of crap like Oprah, soap operas, and public education. I feigned smiles and put in my two cents worth when asked. Though work was going well, I was bored there too.

The lesbian clubs provided something of an outlet, but the atmosphere proved challenging. Hannah had laughed before refusing to accompany me.

“It is not that I object to having fun” she rationalized. “But as Editor-in Chief, I don’t imagine the owners would appreciate me being seen in gay clubs. I hope you understand.”

Going to the lesbian clubs alone, I found that I was both popular and loathed. Pretty women always seemed interested, and they were always escorted by some bull dyke. The eyes of the bull dykes always telegraphed the same message- “move from your seat, smile at her again, and you will need an ambulance”. Dancing with the single dykes did little for me. Their kisses stimulated me not.

By late June, I switched my routine. Friday and Saturday nights were prone to find me in “regular” clubs. In a bar called The Monies, I met a young man named Blair. He was nineteen and had just completed his first year of college, though he looked older and his fake ID served him well. As I was thirteen years his senior, it became apparent that we had little in common, other than sexual desires. I remained however, willingly bound to my inner circle. Doug and April and my feelings for Milam, these represented my freedom and my truth. To cheat on that truth would be to cheat on myself.

Blair and I served a purpose for one another. He was a whisper of youth, his presence like a never-ending spring fever. For him, I was a subject of study and exploration, a trophy in his fledgling case.

I introduced him to the basics of Milam’s world, the theology of sex and self. He was fascinated by it all and we formed a bond sufficient to thwart his sexual frustration. He was not allowed to fuck me, not allowed to kiss me. Yet, by summer’s end, he was reporting his sexual encounters and talking to me openly about his feelings. We were both comfortable now with the parameters of our relationship. These stretched only to one new routine- he wanted me to jack him off with each story. I felt I owed him something, and I have to confess I enjoyed watching his cum jet forth as he called my name.

In August, I paid for adjoining suites at the beach. Blair and I had a deal- he could bring any hot chicks he may pick up back to the hotel, but if they thought he was my son, out they would go.

“I am just kidding”, he said following the pact. “I will be going back to school in about a month and I miss you already, Geneva.”

I was a child, I realized, the last time I enjoyed such innocent fun, such closeness. Blair and I would hit the beach early each day. We would laugh as we squirted oil at each other.

On our second day, I fell asleep on the beach towel after he applied lotion to my back. I awakened some time later when he gently pulled the hair from my face. He kissed my cheek and announced that he was going shark hunting. I was the first to laugh as I watched him run toward the crashing waves like an eight-year-old. He stopped, facing me from a distance and garnering attention from others as he flexed what muscles existed on his skinny body. I laughed harder as the waves batted him around like a stray buoy.

In the evenings, we walked hand in hand, letting the tide bathe our bare feet. I listened to Blair talk of how he was in college only because of his parents. He had no idea who or what he wanted to “be”; which is why he was even more fascinated with Milam’s philosophy and my feelings for the man.

I helped him as much as I could, reminding him that I was no Milam Andersen. I reminded him that I was still learning as well.

“It is the journey”, I reminded him. “Not the destination.”

The days passed like minutes. I showered and dressed with the realization that this was our last night here. Tomorrow we would load the car and begin our long journey home. I wondered how Blair would react to fine dining. I had made reservations for two at Rick’s. I laughed, thinking how Blair considered hot wings and beer a illegal bahis meal fit for a king.

He picked at his food, staring and asking me what each item was as we went through the courses.

After dinner, we moved to the adjacent club called Rick’s Sideline. Blair was an experienced drinker and a lousy dancer. It was enough however that he thought himself good.

We were back at the hotel by eight-thirty. I sensed his need to be alone with me, and we were back at the hotel by eight-thirty. The ride in the hotel limousine might have been romantic, if not for the enveloping silence. I recalled the feeling of his erection as we swayed our last dance to a song called “Sign Your Name”.

“Can we please get back in the hot tub?” he asked as the limo stopped at the hotel’s main entrance.

We had enjoyed the hot tub every night. How could I say no now?

Twenty minutes later, I noticed the full moon as I moved to the balcony.

“Your body is awesome Geneva”, he said.

“Where did the Champagne come from?”

“Oh. I phoned here and ordered it just before we left Rick’s.”

I laughed. The little shit was trying to get me drunk.

“So, I haven’t asked you”, he said as I stepped into the hot tub. “What is it like being a magazine editor?”

I talked for approximately ninety seconds before Blair moved his mouth to mine. I let him kiss me for a long moment until his hand found its way to my breast. The alcohol in his system was not sufficient to override his trembling.

“Blair, no” I whispered.

He pulled away with anger. “Why can’t I make love to you?”

“We have discussed this. We discussed it before coming here.”

“Does this get you off? Does teasing me give you some sort of weird pleasure?”

He threw his Champagne glass.

“Blair, stop!”

“Is being a tease part of your grand philosophy?”

“That is not fair and you know it.”

He backed away slowly. I watched the anger melt into sadness.

“I will pay for the glass”, he said.

“Don’t worry about the glass, Blair.”

“I apologize.”

“I think I am the one who owes an apology.”

“No”, he responded. “You’re right. You outlined the rules from the start. You outlined the rules for this trip. You were honest with me.”

“Let me be honest with you some more.”

I took his hand before standing. We left the towels. Warm water dripped from our bodies as I led him to his room. His erection was prevalent as I sat him on the bed.

“Do you really want me?” I inquired softly.

His breaths were shorter. “You don’t want me.”

“This is not a rejection of you, Blair. I will fuck you right here and now if it means you won’t be hurt, that you won’t be angry with me. But my reasons are my own and I have explained those to you.”

His eyes closed. “You’re right. I don’t want a pity-fuck. I don’t want anything to mess up what we have had together. I love you, Geneva.”

“I love you too, baby.”

My lips met his as he lay on his back. Our tongues touched as the realization came to me that Blair would move on, that he would outgrow me. My hand moved to the yearning of his erect penis then. He accommodated us both by removing his bathing suit. He screamed my name repeatedly as thick cum exploded from him.

I left him long enough to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. His hand caressed my arm as I cleaned him.

“Can we walk on the beach one last time?” he asked.

I smiled as the thirsty towel absorbed his pleasure. “You read my mind, Blair.”

He moaned as I moved the towel gently over the tip of his cock.

The sand felt good beneath my feet. Blair’s hand felt good in mine.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way”, he said. “You must feel like you brought a four-year-old kid here.”

I laughed as the wind danced through my hair. “Shut up stupid”, I said.

“Me?” He laughed then. “You’re the stupid one.”

We used our shoulders, playfully shoving each others we strolled.

“Nope”, I shot back. “You were stupid first.”

“But you are more stupid.”

We were barely fifty yards down the beach when I heard the familiar voice from behind.

“Well, I will be goddamned! Isn’t this just too cute.”

I longed for this to be a mistake. Surely, this was just someone else who sounded like Julian. I turned to find that it was indeed him.

“What is it?” Blair asked.

Julian let go of another woman’s hand as he moved closer. The bright light of the moon illuminated his drunken face, bringing nausea and dread to the center of me.

Julian laughed as he looked at Blair. “This skinny-ass punk is who you left me for?”

“Are you talking to me?” Blair said angrily.

I stepped between them. “Leave me alone, casino siteleri Julian. Leave him alone.”

His new companion approached. “This must be Geneva”, she said angrily. “The woman you are supposedly over?”

Julian snarled his eyes locked on Blair.

“Who is this asshole?” Blair asked.

With lighting speed, Julian’s fist connected to Blair’s face.

“You fucking jerk!” the other woman screamed. With equal speed, she slapped the back of Julian’s head before running away.

Then it was my turn. “Leave him alone you ass!”

A crowd began to form around us. I slapped his face just before being knocked to the sand.

“Get up pussy”, Julian said to Blair.

Blood streamed from Blair’s nose as he came to his hands and knees.

“Julian, stop this!” I screamed.

His response was a quick movement to his victim. Angry tears came to my face as he kicked Blair’s ribs.

“Stop it! Please, someone call the police!”

“Calling them now”, said an elderly man.

Julian moved away, taking the cell phone from him and throwing it towards the surf. “You don’t want to do that old man.”

Blair was up quickly. I screamed again as he jumped onto Julian’s back. Julian easily flipped Blair’s thin body to the sand. He then straddled him and began to punch his face repeatedly.

I moved quickly to the scene, crying as I punched, slapped, and scratched at the asshole named Julian.

“Doyce no!” the old man’s wife screamed. Now he too was attempting to pull Julian away.

Julian knocked me away before elbowing the older man in the mouth. I watched as his wife came to his side.

Julian stopped then. He faced me as I stood, displaying raw hatred that dripped from his eyes to his snarled lips. He pointed his finger toward me.

“You are a whore, he hissed.

“You’re going to jail”, said the old man’s wife.

“Fuck you bitch!” Julian shot back. “Do you know who I am?”

I smacked his now-ugly face one more time. “She knows who you are”, I hissed. “Now everyone knows who you are. Get away from me, Julian.”

He breathed hard. “I lost my head. It was just seeing you with-“

“I am not interested in anything you have to say.”

The punch had little effect, but I nearly smiled as the old man’s fist connected with Julian’s face. His wife screamed in protest.

“You push around women and boys half your size”, Doyce said. “Try it with a man. I am sixty-seven years old. Come on!”

Julian began backing away. “I am sorry, Geneva.”

“Go to hell”, I said.

Blair came to his elbows as I went to his side.

“The boy may need a doctor”, Doyce said.

“Baby”, I said to Blair. “I am so sorry! Please tell me you are okay.”

“I don’t need a doctor”, he muttered. “Just leave me alone.”

We received stared from both hotel guests and staff as we made our way back to the suite. Blair ignored my pleas through the locked door of his room. Finally, I relented, trying to understand his need to be alone.

I awakened early the next morning. Blair’s note thanked me for the friendship and explained that he had taken a cab to the airport.

I cried like a broken-hearted teenager on prom night. I cried until I showered, packed, and barely met the checkout deadline.

I tipped the porter after the last of my bags were in the trunk.

“Geneva, I wanted to apologize.”

Julian seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Shove your apology up your ass!”

“I wanted to thank you for not calling the police.”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“Please tell me you won’t report me to the Bar Association.”

I smiled. “I had not even thought of that, but it is an outstanding idea. Now get away from my car and get away from me. If you come near me ever again, I will have you disbarred and put in jail.”

“I still love you.”

“Fuck you”, I said as I closed the car door.

He followed along as I backed away. “You just dumped me like I never existed”, he yelled. “You had no right!”

I saw the devil in my rearview mirror as I exited the parking lot.

Days turned into weeks. My calls to Blair remained unanswered. I received no response from my messages.

I struggled against feelings of hatred directed at Julian. More than once, I thought of reporting him to the Bar, only to remember that revenge serves no objective purpose.

The heat of August began to wane with the passage of weeks. I resolved to send a letter to Blair. After that, the issue would be in his hands. I had to remember his age and his bruised manhood. I would fade away, secure in the knowledge that he knew where to find me if he needed to talk.

I would not forget Blair, but melancholy turned to elation with the return of Doug and poker siteleri April. They returned on the second Friday in October. I took the day off and spent the weekend with them. I knew they were tired from the trip, so I made myself as useful as possible, doing their shopping, running to the cleaners and the like.

I could not get enough of their stories of Spain, southern France, Italy, and Austria. They spent their final week in England. The romance, the culture, the history all served to bring enlightenment and enhanced freedom.

Nothing from my end could match a months-long tour of Europe, but I told them of my relationship with Blair. April admonished me that, while refraining from sex with him was the right decision, the beach trip was perhaps a mistake.

“It probably wouldn’t be easy for any guy”, she began. “But for a nineteen year old…wow…being in the same hotel suite with you and knowing that it is hands-off, that would be tough.”

“I know it would not be easy for me”, Doug chimed in.

April laughed as she popped his arm. “You be quiet”, she said.

“I only wanted to help him”, I said. “To be his friend.”

“On balance”, April said. “It sounds like he may benefit from the experience in the long run. It is just a shame that Julian had to end things that way.”

I returned to work Monday feeling renewed and refreshed. April and I had been hungry for each other. Our sex brought us even closer.

I had no way of knowing what a turning point this week would prove to be.

Doug and April invited me to dinner that evening. I learned of Doug’s Uncle who passed away while they were in Europe.

“I am so sorry”, I offered.

He shrugged. “I never cared for the old bastard to be honest.”

“I did” April said. “Joseph was a nice man.”

“Easy for you to say”, Doug said with a snicker. “He was in love with you.”

“That means he had good taste.”

“What was his story?” I asked.

“He had 1.5 million good stories”, Doug said. “We received a call from his attorney, informing us that he had left all of them to April.”

“Doug”, April protested. “Stop being so shallow. Uncle Joseph was an eccentric. He was a poet, a musician, and an artist. He owned gallery in the mountains. He collected and sold rare art and musical instruments like Grand pianos and old pipe organs.”

“He sounds fascinating,” I said.

“He left us-” April began.

“Left you”, Doug interrupted.

She laughed. “Hush. He left us his entire estate. All told, it is worth somewhere between one and two million dollars.”

I laughed. “So you two take a trip to Europe, comfortably well off, and come back rich. What a rough life.”

“It is your money too”, Doug said.

“That is why we invited you out”, April followed.

“I am not greedy. I will only ask for half”, I quipped.

They both laughed.

“You are greedy”, April said. “That is why I love you.”

“I just want you for your body” Doug joked.

April rolled her eyes. “And you wonder why Uncle Joseph hated him?”

“Anyway”, Doug continued. “April and I have an idea. We discussed it Europe before we knew anything about the inheritance. If we can make this work, and if you would consider a career change, we want you to be part of it. April has already broached the idea with Milam.”

A tingle moved up my spine. “Milam?”

“Yes”, April said. “Our idea is to form the Milam Anderson Institute. We want to spread the word. We want others to know the freedom and happiness we have experienced.”

“May I be a cynic?” I asked.

“Please”, Doug responded. “We want your feedback.”

“Well, I like the idea; but hasn’t Milam already done that with his book and his essays?”

“To a degree”, April said. “But everything is like a giant incoherency- a giant quilt. His book was published under a pen name. His website is stumbled across by perverts searching porn on the internet. That hardly does justice to the man or his philosophies.”

“I agree”, I said. “But isn’t that the way he wants things?”

“Bingo”, April responded. “Therein lays the rub. Milam is a very private person.”

“He has some Uncle Joseph in him” Doug quipped.

“I see the idea”, I offered. “How did Milam react?”

April sighed with a smile. “He welcomed us home, said that he would think it over, and that he would get back to us.”

Typical Milam, I thought.

I arrived home shortly after nine. The more I thought about the idea, the more I liked it, the more excited I became.

I arrived home from work the following Thursday to find small miracle- something of a dream-come-true- in my mailbox. On November 15th, a party would be held to celebrate Milam’s birthday and make a “special announcement”. So excited was I at the prospect of being invited, I had yet to notice the small piece of paper that had fallen to my lap.

Milam was asking me to be his date for the party.

Merrick wagged his tail and barked twice as tears moistened my smile.

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