Stripped For Florida: SunVision 3
By Willie B.
williebflorida@gmail.com
Copyright 2013 by Willie B., all rights reserved
*
* * * *
This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
* * * * *
SunVision
by Willie B. Florida, all
rights reserved
comments welcome to
williebflorida@gmail.com
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SunVision, Part 3
It wasn't the spring break James had been
looking forward to. With his all day
Saturday's "modeling" -- okay, getting fucked -- and school, and
homework, and his love life with Kate, he was ready for a relaxed week
off. He was hoping to get permission to
take Kate and go to the beach. So many
people went over to the beach from his high school that there was always a
floor to crash on, or they could just dodge the police and sleep on the
beach. Instead, he was on a Cessna
business jet with a bank executive. He
felt his nakedness more acutely in the high-tech interior of the jet, his skin
in direct contact with the expensive leather upholstery, seat belts strapped
across his bare flesh, buttons and controls and digital displays splayed across
every surface to the front and sides. "The
man" banked the craft gently to the left.
A flash of sun crossed the nose of the plane as they turned farther
south on their westerly course. James
had no idea where they were going. He didn't know the man's name, or anything
about him except that he was some sort of bank president, important to
SunVision and obviously as rich as could be if he had his own plane!
"So you're one of those Florida
faggots," the man said, glancing at the instruments and then at James.
They'd been flying south and west and James had
followed their progress by looking down at Florida, spread out like a map far
below them. But now they were over
clouds lit bright white by the sun. James
lost track of where they might be.
"I'm not gay," he stated, trying to
keep the heat out of his voice.
The man laughed easily, "Well, I hear you
love getting porked."
James felt his body strapped into position and
was glad that the other occupant of the aircraft was equally ill-disposed to
get up at the moment, beside being occupied with piloting. "My dad stripped me and had me signed up
for this thing, okay? None of this was
my idea."
"That's one thing I do like about
Florida. The parents are in charge. If dad wants to sign his son up to be gay, so
be it."
James held silent.
"But other than that the Florida
free-for-all would never play in Alabama.
We're quite happy to keep it on the other side of the border."
As long as you stay on the other side of the
plane, thought James, wondering how he was going to survive the three or four
days this trip was supposed to last. His
father had signed a whole sheaf of documents readily enough, told him to behave
himself, and sent him off into the wild blue yonder with this stranger.
"But dad," James had protested,
"I had other plans for spring break.
Besides, you're always so worried about me; now you just send me off with
a total stranger."
"Jason put in a good word and said it
could be a really good opportunity for you," his dad had replied. The mysterious Jason again! The rest of the discussion had gone
nowhere. James had nothing to pack, so
he couldn't hold back on that. He knew
if he headed out to the beach with Kate without permission his dad would find
him easily enough -- and there would be too much hell to pay. So here he was flying first class as it
were. Fortunately the man from Alabama
kept off faggot talk for the rest of the flight, although James found keeping
up his end of the conversation excruciating.
Nevertheless, he tried, remembering both his father and Andy emphasizing
the importance of being polite to this person who could possibly pay for his future
education. By the time the plane touched
the tarmac James was exhausted from the effort.
They taxied to an area next to a small
building. An orange wind sock blew in
the wind and palm trees fluttered in the distance. The man pushed a number of buttons and
scanned the array of dials before undoing his seat belt. He got up and opened the door to the
outside. Warm air blew in and heat
radiated up off the tarmac. James undid
his belt and stepped down the little set of stairs. A man in a crisp uniform looked up at him and
then all three of them were walking toward the little building. James found out soon enough that the asphalt
was way too hot for his feet and he tried to walk without touching the ground
at all. When they got inside he was
gratified to feel the cool tile floor, although he worried that his feet were
already blistering.
As he stood there recovering from the searing
walk across the tarmac his pilot was handing over a sheaf of very official
looking papers to a very official looking man in an olive drab suit with brass
buttons.
"Welcome back," the official said in
an accent somewhere between English and something James couldn't identify. "Another of your nephews."
The accent was distinctly not American and
James roused himself with the shocking realization that he was not in the US of
A.
"That's right," James'
"man" replied.
"They get better and better looking,"
the official observed, "somebody in your family has very good genes."
"We breed 'em right on our side of the
water," laughed the man.
Nephew, wondered James? Looking up he was astonished to see his own
photo. What was that? A passport?
How in the world did he get a passport and how did it get into this
man's hands? James wondered how long
this trip had been in the works. Obviously
his dad had to be involved in getting him properly documented in advance.
"Enjoy your stay," the official said,
handing the sheaf of papers back to the man, "and enjoy your
nephew." He gave Jason a gentle
swat on the rear.
When they turned to head outside again James
looked at his feet. He was in no hurry
to get them burned again. But this time
a teal-colored taxi cab was waiting at the curb for them. The driver hopped out, opened the door and
closed it after they'd both settled inside.
Soon they were gliding along a two lane road with a seaside view. James concentrated on the scenery, trying to
keep his thoughts from what this trip with the strange man might involve. The taxi swung off the main highway, slowed
to navigate through a wrought iron gate and pulled into a circular drive. Formally attired bellhops came forward to
open the doors, lift the man's single suitcase and hold the main doors open for
them. Inside the hotel was fancier than
any place James had ever been. His eyes
wandered across the gleaming marble floors, hanging chandeliers, and glimpses
of restaurants on either side of the lobby.
The man broke his reverie, "Come on champ,
let's check out our room." The room
did nothing to allay the boy's worries.
One double bed sat in the center of a comfortable, but very much single
room. Fortunately James didn't have long
to worry. The man excused himself to use
the bathroom and emerged wearing what James considered a somewhat ridiculous
bright yellow, conservative cut bathing suit with orange flowers. The man was just tying the drawstrings. "Let's hit the beach!" he said with
enthusiasm. James, of course, was
dressed the same -- or rather undressed the same -- no matter the occasion, so
he followed after. The beach was
surprisingly delightful. The sand was
white and soft, but the water was the part James hadn't expected. It was clear and warm and a turquoise
blue. They weren't that far from
Florida, but the water seemed like it belonged to a different ocean! He ran after the man and soon they were both
frolicking in the waves, swimming under the water and enjoying the sight of
amazing tropical fish. James discovered
that if he simply stood still the fish would slowly start congregating about
him. The sun felt good and the water
felt good. For the moment he was pleased
to be naked.
Afterwards they sat at a table shaded by palm
fronds and once again James was surprised and delighted. He had a fish sandwich and a non-alcoholic
tropical drink with a little umbrella in it.
They tasted wonderful. A few
younger children frolicked naked on the beach and other than the oddity of
being with the man who was still a complete stranger, James felt like he might
actually be enjoying himself.
"That was great!" announced the
man. "Let's go up to our room and
see what's going on up there."
James didn't think anything could be going on
in the room if they weren't in it; and in this thought he proved to be
prescient.
Once again the man disappeared into the
bathroom. This time when he came out he
was naked, his body a patchwork of pale and tanned and burned. He had something of a paunch, but was
generally in good shape. Another
surprise for James: the man's penis was nearly at a full erection.
"Took a pill while we had our beachside
snack, the man said, gesturing at his engorged member. Lie down on the bed." This last came in an even tone of voice, but
was clearly an order.
"Uh, I'm okay, I don't need to rest,"
James replied.
"That's funny, Florida boy, but you won't
be getting much rest yet -- or at least your backside won't be. Come on, face down," came the order again.
James' thoughts were awhirl. He'd been at SunVision just long enough to
understand exactly what this man wanted to do with him -- to him. He stalled.
"I don't think that's legal, sir; I think you're more than seven years older
than me." Why did the rules have to
be so complicated, James wondered. Two
people, both stripped, could have sex together if they ware seven years apart
in age or less. Did that mean that if
someone in that age bracket demanded sex, you had to do it? What about consent? Then again, his father
was allowed to consent on his behalf, which is why he had to have sex with all
the guys at SunVision. But he liked
them. The sex was okay. And then there was Kate. She was the same age he was, but she wasn't
stripped, so legally they couldn't be having sex, but nobody seemed to mind
that much.
"No more games, now, James," the man
stated, his voice straining to remain reasonable.
"I told you I wasn't gay." James made
a last ditch effort to forestall what was seeming more and more inevitable.
"We're not in Florida anymore. Got that?
We're not even in the United States.
The rules are different."
There were those rules again, but now different
rules. What were the rules here? What country were they even in? James looked about the room, not sure what he
was searching for, an escape route? A
telephone? He watched himself as if in a
dream as he lay on the bed, felt the bedspread on his belly and opened his
legs. The man didn't waste a moment and
he didn't go for niceties. He simply
lined up his pill-induced erection against James' anal opening and forced his
way inside and began fucking the boy mercilessly, grunting the entire
time. James slowed his breath, relaxed
his joints and did everything he could to melt into the bed and let the man
have his way without it hurting. He was
thankful he'd been fucked so many times recently. Even so, he instantly appreciated the skill
and consideration of his SunVision companions.
This man was a brute. James
thought about the ocean, swimming, Kate, school, clouds, fish--anything to take
his attention away from the searing sensation in the center of his body. The man gasped, groaned, yelled out and came
hard and hot inside him. He then rolled
over and passed out in a mass of snoring flesh. James wiggled his way across the bed and
waited. The man continued to snore. James rolled off the bed and searched the
room. There was no phone, no computer;
the man's suitcase was locked. There was
no money lying around. He couldn't see
any key and couldn't remember how they'd gotten into the room.
Oh, well, there was no logical escape plan, but
James just had to get out of there. He
opened the door carefully, grimaced and froze when it squeaked and then
carefully shut it. He stood in the
hallway alone and naked in an unknown country.
Then he ran down the steps, out the double doors leading from the lobby
to the beach, loped across the sand and dove into the cleansing waters of the
ocean. The sea was warm and embracing and calm. James swam far out and lay back
on the swell, letting the sea lift him gently toward the sky in its own slow
rhythm. As the evening wore on the sky
filled with a constantly changing array of unlikely colors: bronzed pinks and
greens and reds and blues. James could
almost feel the physical quality of the colored light raking across his naked
body. When he saw the first star emerge
out of the darkening blue above, James turned over and swam in with a steady
stroke, letting the waves glide him in the last bit until he rested on the
sand. He got up, waded back into the
water far enough to rinse the sand off his body, shook himself like a dog and
strode onto the beach.
He walked away from the hotel not knowing where
he was headed, but sensing that there must be a town nearby. He passed solitary runners, couples strolling
or simply looking off at the quickly darkening ocean. Three dogs came loping down the beach and he
passed their owners a few minutes later as they trailed behind. Everyone was out minding their own business,
and the few who acknowledged him simply nodded politely.
After about 15 minutes he could see lights
twinkling beyond the beach and knew he'd found the town. He turned and walked into the network of
small streets, passing bungalows and a boatyard before coming to a more
commercial street. The sky was dark by
now and the street was lit by the occasional storefront, cafe's and the
occasional streetlight. He felt more
people staring at him, but he didn't worry about it. After all, he was new here and didn't know
his way around. Didn't people always
stare at someone they'd never seen before?
James had no plan -- after all, he had no documents, no money, wasn't
even sure where he was! He just felt
good being out of the hotel and away from the man.
He was taken aback when he felt a tap on his
shoulder.
"Bey, you win' no chall now, is you?"
He turned to find himself face to face with a
crisply clad policewoman in a starched white blouse and some type of
official-looking cap on her head. She
was shorter than he was, but held herself with immense authority.
"Gotta put something on that boongie,
bey."
James stared, not sure what to do.
"Look here, y'all cain't be standin' in
the road this way with your doggy all out."
James looked down, searching for the dog, but
found none.
"Ine be waitin' all night. Look here," the policewoman
announced. This last part seemed to
indicate that he was supposed to go someplace, as she set off at a terrific
pace, pushing him ahead of her.
They only had half a block to go before they
entered a small building with a crest over the door.
An male officer behind the desk was clad in a
similarly bright white starched uniform.
He cocked an eyebrow as the two entered.
"Look at this bey, wanderin' around like
some chall," the woman began.
The officer stood up and after realizing that
James wasn't following a word that was being said, switched to a very proper
British accent with a tinge of the island twang about it.
"You can't be walking around undressed,
bey. Where are your clothes?"
"I'm stripped," replied James,
confused. "I don't have any."
"Ah, Florida bey."
The officer turned and chatted with the
policewoman and a clerk behind the desk.
The speech was English, James was sure, but he couldn't follow most of
what was said. "Okay," the
officer said to James in his somewhat British accent. "Since you have no
clothes we must return you to the place you are staying. Which hotel?"
James panicked, realizing he had no idea the
name of the hotel or the man he was staying with. He must have turned a shade whiter because
the three adults looked alarmed. "Relax,"
the woman said not unkindly, "tell me what you know."
James described the entrance gate and the front
of the hotel, which didn't seem particularly helpful. He told how he'd come
straight out onto the beach and then walked south to the town. The three adults nodded. "I know the hotel," the male
officer stated. "I will take you
back now."
They rode back in a small blue car with lights
on top. The officer smiled at James and
flicked on the lights for a moment, showing off. James smiled back -- his first smile in over
an hour! At the hotel the desk rang up
to the room and the man came down, crisply attired in knee length shorts and a
polo shirt.
"Found my lost nephew,
have you?" he boomed in a jaunty voice.
"Yes, yes, lost Florida
boy," the officer laughed. "He
can't really be in town this way, sir."
"We'll keep better watch
on him, I promise."
Back in the room the man
stripped off and fucked James hard and fell asleep, but not without first
warning James not to go out again on his own.
James watched the slumbering man, then stared at the ceiling. He felt like crying from loneliness and
missing Kate and his dad and his own house.
He even missed the guys at SunVision, but he held his tears and forced
himself to fall asleep rather than fall into depression.
_________
(The End)