Why Did He Die?

Chapter 4

Since we left Hong Kong three weeks ago Andrew and I have been inseparable. Our nine hour first class flight to Hawaii was relaxed and joyful. Hawaii turned out to be just a stopover. The weather was cool and rainy and raft runs up the NaPali Coast were suspended because the sea was too rough. Neither Andrew nor I was inclined to hike.

The day after we arrived I was sitting on the balcony at the Waikiki Sheraton watching the sun set. Andrew came behind me and put his arms tightly around me. I didn’t resist. He kissed me warmly and sweetly. My body went limp. He removed my terry robe and began running his fingers through the twisted hair on my chest. My penis jumped and I knew my body was scarlet. He pushed me down onto the bed. Lying naked on top he kissed me with his tongue gently pushing inside my mouth. His taste was intoxicating. He slipped between my legs and took my manhood into his mouth. His slid back and forth bringing me too quickly to the edge. He whispered, “I want you inside me.” I had never fucked a man but I knew wanted to fuck this man.

He reached for a bottle of lube on the bed side table. He squeezed lubricant on his hands and applied it liberally to my penis. His hand disappeared behind his back. He rolled me on my back and straddled my body. Slowly he slipped my dick into his anal cavity. He winced as he slowly lowered himself to cover my dick.

“Are you OK? I whispered having never done this before. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He smiled, “So you are a virgin. I thought so. I am honored to be your first.”

Nothing more was said as we enjoyed what I hopedb was going to be a long term connection. Slowly each of us built to our ecstasy. He sent white sticky cum across my stomach as I filled him inside. When I tried to speak he gently put his finger to my lips. With all the lights on we fell asleep intertwined. I liked Andrew before but now something was different.

Flying to California Andrew told me he was going to his father’s ranch outside of Santa Barbara. Once we landed he seemed gloomy and reluctant to leave me. His mood was definitely different than the happiness I was feeling knowing I was only hours away from my family in Hillsdale. I was going to miss Andrew but I felt he was going to miss me more. Even with my own ambivalence about acknowledging that I was gay. I thought I could grow to love Andrew. He was professional and he was very gentle. I liked the sexual things we did together. I didn’t feel guilty. Rather than feeling distressed I had a strange contented feeling. As we gave each other one last hug I hesitantly asked, “Will you join us in Chicago for Thanksgiving?”

His face became a full smile, “When do you want me? I’d love to come. I’ve never had one of those Midwest over-the-river-and-through-the-woods Thanksgivings. Do you have a coat for me to use?”

He hugged me again. I really hugged him back in the middle of a busy airport. I looked directly into his eyes and felt myself blushing. He was warm and tender and I never felt so close to someone before.

“I’m not sure it will be snowy, but it will be fun.” After Andrew got on his plane to Santa Barbara I called mother to let her know we were having another guest. She happily assured me, “Dear, not knowing you were coming and now your friend … Our plans are flexible. I know there is plenty of room at the table. I'll call the country club and reserve one more seat.” We laughed since I knew that mother does not do Thanksgiving dinner. She abruptly finished with, “Got to go and make name cards. See you soon. Goodbye.”

I had a warm homecoming with Mom and Dad. My older brother dropped by to say “Hello,” and questioned me about my sudden decision to move to Hong Kong. The noise level in the house increased as my brother’s two boys — 6 and 2 years old — ran into the room. I didn’t have a chance to answer him. During my brother’s visit my younger sister who arrived with her roommate. Both were students at Northwestern with my sister about to finish her Master’s degree in applied mathematics.

Andrew arrived Wednesday morning so there were six including Andrew at Mom and Dad’s by Wednesday dinner time. I felt sorry for Andrew and Julia, Beth’s roommate having to listen to our funny, crazy family stories. Andrew was unusually quiet but he smiled occasionally. Serious conversation related to jobs after graduate school for Beth and Julia. My father talked about his upcoming retirement from Baxter. Mother didn’t seem to be happy at the thought of father being home all day every day.

John's Apartment in Chicago

John's Apartment in Chicago

After Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday Andrew and I left for my apartment on Division Street in Chicago. It hadn’t been touched since I left on vacation. We undressed and showered eagerly soaping each other’s body. Andrew’s slender body was solid but appropriately muscular. His soft brown hair was thinning and his body was completely smooth. As we showered I cupped his soft, thick manhood in my hand and slowly rolled his silky balls as I kissed his lips. He blew water into my eyes. We pressed close to one another. “Time to get out and dry off,” he whispered. For the first time ever my bed was warm and wonderful with Andrew lying beside me. I spooned against Andrew before he turned around positioning himself to penetrate me.

Andrew’s index finger gently slid down my spine to my crack. His twisting finger touched my prostate which made my dick jump. He pushed his fingers inside my asshole gently but with intent. Without explanation he quickly pulled back as I opened my eyes. He jumped out of bed. He turned every light on and returned to kiss every part of me.

“It’s time. Are you OK? Here goes” Andrew said.

“Yeah, go for it.” Straddling me with my legs up he lubed his fully erect dick. “My accountant wants to know if you need a condom.”

He smiled sweetly, “I’m negative, but does your accountant want me to use a condom?”

Andrew

Andrew

I blushed and turned away, “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

As I watched his piercing blue eyes he pushed against my hole and slowly with every stroke went deeper and deeper. It hurt and burned. Tears filled my eyes but with a smile in his eyes he kept pushing. In a few minutes he was easily sliding in and out. He touched the spot and lightning shot through me. “Be careful, it’s too early.” He slowed. My mind was wandering as I looked into his gentle face. This was the first time I was really happy having with someone in my bed with me. And it was a man. I had denied myself too long. In a couple of more strokes I felt his pulsating dick shooting its warm contents into my bowels. He just touched my penis and its contents sprayed out.

He finished showering before I did. I found him sitting on the side of my bed staring outside as I toweled myself. His expression told me he was far away.

I didn’t speak waiting for him. He said unprovoked, “John, I’m so afraid Lee is going to hurt you.” With that he got up, smoothed the sheets and got into bed and closed his eyes. I turned out the lights and joined him without saying anything.

Friday with the help of Beth, Julia and Andrew I packed up my stuff. The furniture, dishes and kitchen appliances were to be moved to my parents’ basement. I promised them that by next summer I would come home and sell everything or find a new place. They hoped I would return to Chicago and settle down with a cute former neighbor, Sharon. I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

After noon I went to the bank to close my accounts. With my attorney Thom Sculley, a college fraternity brother, we spent two hours setting up a trustee agreement and a power of attorney so he could handle my investments and income tax filings. I arrived back at the apartment at 3:30 to a virtually completed job. Movers had arrived to take the furniture and the majority of the boxes. What was left were boxes containing CD’s, a few pictures and a clock showing daylight and night around the world which my mother gave me the previous Christmas? I wondered if mother had a premonition when she gave it to me. The DHL girl took the last boxes for shipping to my office in Hong Kong. As she closed the apartment door Andrew and I started giggling. He said, “Have any idea where we’re sleeping tonight?”

“No, but I will offer to buy dinner as a ‘Thank You’ for the hard work.”

“Our choice?” Beth chimed in.

“I’ve got a great idea,” Julia offered. “Spiaggia.”

“That means we have to go to Hillsdale twice. I don’t want to do that.”

I ended up springing for dinner and a two-room suite at the Four Seasons for Friday and Saturday nights. Beth and Julia went to Hillsdale to get their things because they planned to return to campus in Evanston on Sunday morning. Miraculously, we were able to get reservations at Spiaggia at 8:30 pm.

Halfway through dinner and the second bottle of Clos du Bois chardonnay Julia said, “I need a vacation. I am dreading another winter in Chicago.”

“With little or no money where do you think you’re going?” Beth chided her.

“Where do you want to go?” Andrew followed.

“Somewhere where thinking is not required,” to which there was laughter.

Andrew calmly said, “How about the Caribbean?”

“Where is it cheap enough even if we could figure out how to pay for the airplane tickets?” From that point the conversation turned to cruises, campouts and sailing yachts. Beth told us she took a cruise her junior year to St. Johns, St. Thomas and Puerto Rico. Julia said she had been to the Dominican Republic for an economic development conference.

Andrew said, “I’ve heard great things about St. Maarten.”

“Too expensive!” Julia responded.

Undeterred Andrew continued, “It’s French so the food has to be good. I know someone who owns a house there. Maybe we can get it for little or nothing. It’s still off season.”

“How about trying for free first?” I sensed that Andrew was playing with us so I played along.

“Spoken like an accountant.”

“I’ll make a call this morning.”

“You mean right now,” Julia gasped horrified that we were moving so quickly on her suggestion.

Andrew asked the next question: “Where are we getting the money for this?” To me his question is seemed ridiculous considering the daily cost of his suite in Hong Kong. I assumed he didn’t want the girls to know.

“I’ll pay for the girls’ airfare.” I chimed in. “You get the place.”

“I know it will be all right if it’s not rented. Food won’t be a problem.” I know Andrew was telling us only half of the story. One moment I want run over and hug him and then I think I know almost nothing about him. But right then I just wanted is to be with him.

Christmas Tree in Walnut Room of Marshall Fields

Christmas Tree in Walnut Room of Marshall Fields

The remainder of Saturday we were teenagers. We traipsed up and down Michigan Avenue along with thousands of shoppers looking in the windows. We crossed over the river to Marshall Field’s on State Street to lunch under the giant Christmas tree in the Walnut Room. We took an abbreviated trip into the Art Institute. I wanted to show Andrew the renovated stock trading room which was salvaged from the old Mercantile Exchange. As we left a scruffy teenager was scalping four tickets to the Goodman Theatre’s production of Dickens’s Christmas Carol starting at 5:30 pm. We paid the kid too much but I rationalized that it didn’t really matter because Christmas was coming. Returning to our rooms Andrew immediately ordered champagne from room service. “You’ve gone crazy. Fifty bucks!” I screeched at him.

“You only go around once,” he shouted back. The door between Beth and Julia’s room were open. I filled four flutes. Modesty was not considered the more we drank. The girls had towels wrapped around their bodies and their hair. Andrew ordered more champagne and kept pouring uniformed only in his tiny briefs. Sitting crossed legged on the bed my D&G mini-briefs provided minimal modesty. No one seemed to care if the bathroom door was open or closed.

I said to Beth, “Remember how excited we got before Christmas.”

“Reminds me of home,” I said looking in Beth’s direction.

Smiling and looking toward Andrew she said, “At least there is something worth looking at here.”

“Funny!” Julia entered clad in a short terry robe loosely gathered at her waist. Her dark chocolate skin glistens as if it was oiled. Her full breasts pushed against the cloth exposing her ample cleavage. As she raised her arms to dry her hair little anatomy was left to our imagination. My eyes caught Beth’s glance and could see her tiny smile saying, “I got you.” She didn’t realize I was looking at the bare-chested Andrew as he stood behind Julia.

Instead of a rich meal like last night we went for light snacks at Kennesaw’s in the Belmont Hotel. Flying high from the champagne Beth suggested a piano bar on Halsted. She didn’t say more as we followed her on foot on Belmont toward Halsted. It took the first kiss of a man to a man for me to realize Beth had taken us to a gay bar. Andrew and Julia were enjoying the voluptuous, naughty Amy performing with the cabaret pianist, Freddy. The cigarette smoke drove us out after an hour of Amy’s bawdy but humorous songs.

Before Julia left on Sunday morning in Beth’s car we finalized our trip to St. Maarten. Beth and I had an obligatory family gathering at lunch. Julia had some final editing to do on her thesis. Andrew declined our invitation saying he was going to find a cheaper hotel.

While the trip to the Caribbean sounded like great fun when we were planning it created a scheduling dilemma for me. I planned to return to Hong Kong by December 10 to review the month end financials before they were sent to Lee. By going to St. Maarten the earliest I could return was December 12. I called the office thinking it was Monday afternoon but it was early Tuesday morning. The twelve hour and one day time difference still confused me. My assistant told me that Lee had not returned so I told her that as soon as I arrived in St. Maarten I would give her the address, telephone number and Telex.

Even though Andrew and I shared the same bed nightly at the Downtown Holiday Inn we hadn’t discussed much. I loved being in his arms spooning with his soft breathing falling into my ear. His dick never seemed to soften as he lay against the cheeks of my ass. I was confused because I always knew I was the type to marry a woman and settle down and have kids. I had been intimate with several women but the love making did not translate to pre-marriage. Being with Andrew gave me a warm, secure feeling. I loved having his dick move slowly in and out of me. He was equally receptive as a sex partner when I felt the need. I wanted to know more about Andrew but there was too little time for quiet talk. On Tuesday Andrew called Julia and Beth and told them he has been able to contact his family friend and arranged for the use of a guest house in St. Maarten. According to his friend there was plenty of room.

After he hung up I asked, “How big is this place?”

“I’ve never seen it but I understand it is quite beautiful.” Landing in St. Maarten was a visual treat. The emerald speck of an island reached up and seemed to draw our silver 757 down to an airstrip surrounded by an ocean filled with blotches of aqua, turquoise and ink blue in hundreds of shades and shadows. Hot, muggy air filled the plane when the doors were opened.

After retrieving our minimal luggage we hired a white Montero with a Buda black driver. It was a tight fit. The drive to Rouge Bay on the French side took us past big resort hotels with their glittering casinos. We entered low rolling hills that protected the French side from the hordes of tennis shod tourists that disembarked daily from the cruise ships on the Dutch side. The narrow asphalt track was scratched out of the scrubby vegetation. We turned onto one lane which was the wrong one. Then the driver turned onto a dirt track and into an area with cars parked on both sides of the road. It looked like a party. Our driver kept creeping until he reached a small graveled space at the top of the hill. Andrew’s directions were vague except he was told to look for short stone pillars on both sides of the drive. We found the pillars but no numbers or distinguishing marks.

The car stopped in front of the pillars and we piled out, not sure which house to walk toward. We pulled a cord and heard a bell sound some distance away. The gate to the house closest to the water opened and a small black woman emerged. Her skin was the color of burnt coffee beans and her broad flat nose anchored her saucer-like brown eyes.

She didn’t speak; just stood. Andrews inquired, “We are looking for Gertrude.” She smiled. “Are you Gertrude?” Andrew continued. We could barely hear her “Yeah…s” over the rustling palms that lined the raked stone path. I marveled at how such a functional word like “Yes” could sound so invitingly seductive. She stepped aside as we entered the villa. I tried not to let my mouth drop to the floor. We wandered around like we were in a museum. Colorful paintings of flowers and scenes of the island covered the little wall space that was not windows. The tile floors clicked under our steps. One by one we took off our shoes and our warm feet were cooled by the smooth fired Mexican floor tile.

I was already worrying about how much the place was going to cost us. I could feel my wallet in pain. I followed the others out onto the deck. Below us about fifty feet down the path was the pool perched on a cliff hanging above a glorious moon shaped beach. No one spoke because words could not do justice to the scene. Julia commented that there were many people on the beach which explained all the cars. We took in the remarkable scene.

Behind us we heard, “Bonjour, Mr. Henley.” We turned simultaneously to see who was speaking in the tone of melting butter oozing over the edge of a plate. A toast- tanned face on an unexpectedly two hundred pound body wrapped in multi-colored batik stood before us. The perfectly tied cloth could not conceal the ample breasts of the woman who introduced herself as Suzanne. She indicated that she and her friends Larry and Michael were the only other people staying in the house. “We were told you were coming. Isn’t the scene special?” We childishly responded with nods.

“How do the sleeping accommodations work? Where is the guest house?” I asked.

Her wrinkled forehead told us more than her words. “There is no guest house. Gertrude didn’t show you to your rooms? There is plenty of room in the house. After you get settled we can have dinner together. Larry and Michael should be back soon.” After a short pause she said, “Oh, I know what you mean. The guest house! There is small apartment off the swimming pool. I don’t think you want to stay there with all the empty rooms inside.” She turned and we followed.

“Let’s take a look,” Andrew jumped in. Her ponderous rear end jiggled like soft Jell-O under her batik. We were back in the main living room through which we entered. The ceiling defined the roof line. Big fans turned slowly. Ocean side was two hundred seventy degrees of azure panorama. On one side of the room was a dining table with chairs for twelve. No kitchen was visible. We followed Suzanne down a long hallway which led to five or six bedrooms. The first one on the left she identified as her own; across from her was empty, and next she said was where the two men were sleeping. There was only one bed in the room.

“Take your pick except for the one on the end which Mr. Henley reserves for himself whether he is here or not.”

“That’s who my father knows!” Andrew said.

“He’ll be here sometime before Christmas. He’s a great guy.” After our tour we trooped outside to the apartment entrance by the pool. We were without Suzanne and could finally express our confusion and awe. The apartment was small, but did we want to live upstairs with Suzanne and guys we didn’t know? Our consensus was luxury outweighed the inconvenience. We walked into the garden to pick up our bags that had been deposited there by our driver. The girls walked back into the house. I said to Andrew, “Suzanne said the house belongs to Mr. Henley. That is your last name. I thought you said this house belonged to a family friend.”

“It does. Henley and his son took me in after I came back to the United States from English boarding school. I was thrown out of my adoptive family’s house in Delaware.”

“How’d you get to California? Is your last name really Henley?”

He brushed it off with, “A story for another time.” We walked into the garden. A little crate on four wheels came dashing up the driveway. The car looked unsafe at any speed. There were no windows or doors. Two men jumped out of the vehicle. The older man, probably 40 years old, with slender torso had completely white hair and was dressed in an island floral shirt and long cut khaki shorts. His companion was well built was twenty years younger. His coal black hair matched perfectly his sparkling eyes. The only adornment on his tanned bare chest was a heavy gold chain. His shorts were loose and hung on his hip bones. . If he had exhaled deeply they would have fallen down.

Greetings are exchanged; Michael, the younger fellow, grabbed our bags and moved with us into the house as discussions continued about which room to take. Michael turned into a room across from theirs, set the bags down and left. The room had two twin beds, a slow moving ceiling fan and floor to ceiling glass wall that framed a palette of hibiscus and bougainvillea in vibrant pinks, pearly whites and luscious reds. The grounds outside the window were raked and the trees pruned and staked.

The temperature was warm and the humidity caused my clothes to stick to my skin. I moved to close the door to change only to find there was no door. “There’s no door,” I said softly. Andrew shrugged his shoulders suggesting this was my problem, not his. My clothes came off because I wanted to try the pool. I quickly pulled on my Speedo which I bought in Hong Kong. It was tighter than I remembered. I was alone in the pool for about ten minutes before Michael appeared, having replaced his sagging shorts with a black thong with a pink pouch. The material covered his genitalia and was held in place by a thin waist strap and a strip up his butt crack. There was no evidence of a tan line. Michael dove into the pool and emerged beside me.

Not more than a minute later the others followed Gertrude as she walked slowly down the paved footpath carrying a tray with tall drinks each accented with a slice of pineapple. The sun was silently slipping behind a high ridge at the end of our spectacular crescent bay. Andrew handed a glass each to Michael and me in the pool. The others including Suzanne and Larry talked quietly and respectfully as we experienced the awesome spectacle of the sun leaving us on our first day.

Our tranquility was shattered by a piercing voice. “Monsieur Henley, Monsieur Henley!” Everyone turned toward a tall, skinny black man walking down the path. Once poolside he pulled a large white envelope out of his leather satchel. As he approached I got out of the pool and was ready to take the parcel hoping he would quickly disappear. There were French words on the front that I did not understand but “Telex” in bold letters told me Lee had already found me. I placed the envelope on a chair as I dried myself off.

The others gathered around me expecting me to open a birthday gift. I shook my head as I held the envelope. “He found me this quickly.”

I hesitated long enough for Beth to say, “For God sakes open it. It might be important.” The envelope was too big to contain simply a greeting so I ripped it open and stared at a news print sheet: “Dateline: Solomon Islands, USA, December 4, 2001. Glad you are in St. Maarten. Find my yacht ‘Sulu’ in Simpson Bay. Contact the Captain and don’t return to Hong Kong until you hear from me. Lee”

Shaking my head in amazement I passed the message around. Andrew frowned at the words but kept the message moving. He immediately seemed sullen. Lee had disturbed my plans. I began to worry that I might be in St. Maarten for a month with basically the clothes on my back. I shrugged it off and was determined not to let the message ruin everyone else’s vacation. Luckily, at that moment Gertrude came down the path with a replacement tray of different drinks. Each tall hurricane glass was filled in layers of color. The bright red was on the bottom, with a layer of apricot then orange and finally topped off in pale yellow. Ice cubes clicked against the sides of the glasses. As before, the glasses were dressed with a slice of pineapple. She placed the tray beside the other tray, picked up the empties and softly retreated.

The tray emptied as each of us picked our own and found a lounge chair so we could return our attention to the sunset. As the light dimmed our mood lightened. The conversation was pleasant and was interrupted by the sound of chimes calling us to dinner. “It’s dinner time,” Michael said. Larry helped Suzanne up.

Michael and I went to change. As we walked I asked, “Do you know the ‘Sulu’?”

“Yes, I know where the Sulu is moored. I’ll show you tomorrow.” He stepped into his room across from ours. I looked as he slipped off his thong. Naked with only a towel over his shoulder he stuck his head in. “Showers next door. Come in and I’ll tell you a little more. The others will wait.” As he stepped out of the shower I stepped in to rinse off. As I stepped out Michael was toweling off and said, “I think I know the captain of the Sulu, too.”

“Let’s find it or them tomorrow.” I said realizing how uninhibited I felt with this man I just met.

“John, you need some sun on that white butt of yours.”

I chose not to respond but I thought, “You silly bastard why do you think we are here?”

Dinner was decidedly French but served by Gertrude with island grace. We disbanded about 21:30 and people scattered. Andrew had been quiet all evening and I was concerned. I thought he might be feeling ill. It turned out I was correct in my observation but not in my diagnosis. As we walked down the hall he said, “Let’s go for a swim.” Without saying anything we undressed. Andrew just pulled a towel around himself.

“No suit?” I said quietly. Not waiting I answered my own question. “Sure. Why not? It’s the French way.”

House in St. Maarten

House in St. Maarten

We walked onto the pool deck. The black liquid was shimmering with the dusk’s illumination. I was lost in my thoughts when I felt a foot bump my rear end. I was being intentionally touched by his big toe. I turned to see what Andrew was doing and found him standing chest deep in the water watching me a few feet from me. He said, “John will you hug me?”

“Sure” not wanting to disturb the tranquility.

“If you don’t I am about to explode.” I gave him a body hug. I drew him close to me. I felt his stiffening cock against my stomach. I was silent. We stood there in the water for a long time not moving or speaking. He was shaking and I moved my face to his to kiss him. He turned and moved his lips away, “I don’t deserve your kiss.” He whispered.

I loosened my hug but he didn’t. “What’s wrong? Are you cold? Do you want to get out?” He did a negative shake of his head. We moved to the edge of the pool. I stood close to Andrew and kept my hands on his shoulder.

“That asshole, Lee Kwan. No matter what I do he fucks things up. I hate the bastard, the fucking bastard.” I was shocked at Andrew’s outburst but didn’t flinch. I never heard Andrew utter a profanity or even a harsh word. He pulled away and started up the pool ladder. He walked to the rail overlooking the ocean starring into the Caribbean night. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below was the only disturbance. Millions of stars filled the sky as the half moon light highlighted his glistening body.

He turned and motioned for me to join him. I quietly obliged. I stood beside him and he turned toward me. I could see his wet face. He wiped his crying eyes. “You asked me sometime back how I know Lee Kwan. You really want to hear the story?” I affirmed with a nod. He continued, “You’re the first person I’ve ever told this shitty story to. I know you’ll probably hate me after you hear it. I’m so fucking weak.” Tears were gushing out of his eyes he started speaking, “I’m ashamed I didn’t tell you this before but that fucking bastard and I mean fucking bastard…” His voice faded and I found myself comforting him with an arm around his shoulder. I was cool and looked around for a towel. I pointed us toward two lounges close together. I covered myself with a towel and sat down. Instead of sitting on the other lounge Andrew sat down between my legs and leaned back against my chest.

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