A Long Hot Summer's Night

The heat was unbearable as I watched the two men on the beach. One dark haired, of slight build, with eyes that pierced your very soul. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he gazed into the eyes of the man next to him. He was blonde of short stature with blue eyes that saw the secrets you kept hidden deep inside. He looked at the older man adoringly as the wind touseld his shoulder length hair. Hair that looked as though it had been kissed by the sun. His eyes lit up like a christmas tree when the man next to him smiled lovingly at him.

The heat between the two of them rivaled that of the August sun. Two tan bodies lying on pure white sand. Every eye was on them for miles along the beach. Every woman wanted them. Every man envied them. Laughter floated on the ocean breeze as they ran towards the crystal clear water's edge hand in hand. The waves crashed around them as the frolicked in the water. Even the dolphins seemed entranced by them. They swam closer and closer to the lovers until they circled them. My heart beat faster as the dark haired man leaned into kiss the younger man. Grabbing my binoculars I watched as the older man slipped his tongue over the lips of the younger one. It seemed as though he was drinking in the taste of him.

I sat on that blanket for hours that day watching the two of them. They ran and swam and then they lay on the beach. The blonde applied the sunblock to the darker man's muscular back. His hands had the air of familiarity of the other's body. As though he knew what made him feel good and what would drive him to ecstasy. The older man appeared to cherish every second he spent on that beach. As though he knew it would be their last. There was a sadness about him. As the sun began to set, the men gathered their things and walked slowly towards a small cottage at the end of the island.

At dinner that night, I had the chance to watch them once again unobserved.  They shared a bottle of the finest wine. Their conversation centered on their family. The older talked about his 'sonny boy'. The younger seemed drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It seemed as though he idolized the other man. After dinner they shared a dessert of which the younger one ate the most. The older one ate most of his off the fingers of his lover. I knew they were lovers by the intimacy they shared.

Later that night on my veranda I had the opportunity to exchange words with them. The older man told me he was Brian Kinney, the younger was Justin Taylor. They had been together for 50 years now. Mr. Kinney talked off how different the world was back then. How different he was back then. Mr. Taylor held onto his lover and made sure he was sitting and resting periodically. Mr. Kinney was appreciative of all his lover had done for him over the years and all he had taught him. He talked of a time when he thought love was just an illusion straight people and munchers, as he called them, convinced themselves existed. Then he talked of how he fell deeply and madly in love with Justin.

Justin talked of how he knew they were soulmates. He spoke of their children and their lives together. He said that he never knew happiness like this could exist. As the hour grew late, Justin gathered his lover and led him in to their cottage. That was the last I saw of them that day.

A few years later I happened upon a piece in the paper about Mr. Kinney. I phoned information for the number of his young lover and shared my memories of the two them. He appreciated that someone else had been touched by Brian's love. That was his legacy.

The end............

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