Luther Ch. 02: Eye on Business

"Keith. Sorry, I need . . ."

"See that chair over there, Luther? I want you to dog fuck me on that chair."

* * * *

Rob could tell by the way Madge set the casserole dish down on the dining room table—hard—that she was still ticked. The two girls looked up, startled, and then gave each other a secret look and went back to buttering their rolls.

"You know the best fishing is at night, Madge. I only go out every other week. It puts food on the table."

"That's not the issue, now is it?" Madge said. She turned to the sink, jerked on the cold water, and then had to step back and turn it down to escape the backsplash.

"I've taken Luther out with me before. Two men can bring in more than double what one man can. I think you're being just a bit ridiculous."

"What would just a bit ridiculous look like, Rob? Would it be, oh, twice as good as a teeny ridiculous?" She had rounded on him. She was brandishing a long wooden spoon that made the girls scrunch down in their seats.

"I'm not going to be any part of driving a young man out of the town he was born in just because he was a bit slow," Rob muttered.

"There's that 'bit' word again. I'll tell you, Rob, there's been talk. Very soon now there's going to be more than talk. He's going to assault some young girl, and then you'll be sorry you coddled him—that you are willing to be associated with him."

"He'll do no such thing, Madge. Who's been telling you these stories? There's not a violent bone in that young man's body. He'd give you the shirt off his back—"

"Not in my sight, he won't."

"Is that what this is about? The rumors about how sexy—?"

"Rob Leighton, you shush." Madge inclined her head and pointed her spoon at the girls—who quite suddenly weren't so scrunched down in their chairs, eyes wide.

"There's nothing wrong with Luther, Madge. He's slow, but he's got a great, giving nature. I need someone to help me on an overnight fishing trip, and he needs people to treat him like he isn't some sort of freak."

"Well, I've heard that in some ways—"

"And if that were true, the best place for him to be would be out on the Atlantic on a fishing boat, now wouldn't it?"

"I just—"

"I don't want to hear any more about witch hunts, Madge. I wasn't even sure I'd go out to fish on Tuesday night. But now you can be sure I will—and that I'll take Luther with me if he wants to go. Case closed. Girls, spoon up some of the stuff in the casserole dish and eat it before it gets cold."

"Rob!" Madge exclaimed.

"Daddy said 'stuff,'" Muriel said. "Daddy called Mommy's food 'stuff.'" Both girls put their hands to their mouths and giggled.

* * * *

"Pretty sleek, isn't she?"

"Yes, she sure is," Luther answered. He was standing at the edge of the parking lot at Cape May Harbor, bare chested and in worn blue jeans, with a slit at one of the knees, his bare feet in a pair of thin sandals. The cabin cruiser was gleaming white and long and had at least three decks to it as far as Luther could see, not counting the top sundeck where a raven-haired woman with the slightest of bikinis on was stretched out on a deck lounger.

The man standing next to Luther was maybe in his early fifties. His once-dark hair had grayed at the temple. He wasn't as tall as Luther and was slimmer, but he looked like he spent a good amount of his time in the gym. His face was handsome, although someone more worldly wise than Luther could have seen that it had had a lot of work done on it. He was nattily decked out in white trousers and a white polo shirt, white deck loafers without socks, and a white sweater reversed on his back, with the arms loosely tied across his chest. He had a gold medallion nestled in his chest hair, dangling on a gold chain around his neck; a diamond ring large enough to choke a horse; and a Rolex watch. His hands were manicured and the sunglasses wedged in his hair cost more than Luther made in a year.

All of this swept right past Luther, though. The man had talked to him in a friendly manner and smiled at him. He was being real friendly. That was enough for Luther to be friendly back.

"Her name is Pamela."

"Oh, that's a nice name."

"The ship is called Pamela too. And it's pretty sleek too, if I do say so."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Oh, I know you didn't. I was just joking with you. My name is Jonathan. Jonathan Payne. That's my boat. My wife too, for that matter."

"Umm. That's nice. I'm—"

"You're Luther. Yes, I know. I've checked around."

"You've checked around?"

"How would you like to do some cruising in that yacht, Luther?"

"Cruising? Me?"

"Yes, you. We can make it worth your while. Say $200 for a day cruise. We could go out now and come back tonight."

"Now?" Luther asked. He would have been a real dummy not to notice that Jonathan had the palm of a hand on the small of his back.

"Yes, of course now. Let's say $300."

"Uh, that sounds nice, but I promised to meet a friend at sunset. Down on the beach."

"Oh, hell, $500 and we'll have you back in the morning." Obviously Jonathan didn't realize that Luther had little sense for money. He might have had much more success by telling Luther how fast the yacht could cruise and how its engine worked.

"I'd love to go out in that yacht. Maybe some other day," was what Luther answered.

"Yes, maybe some other day," Jonathan repeated. He didn't seem that upset he hadn't succeeded. But with people like him, there always was another day.

"But you'd be willing to go out with us someday?"

"I'd love it. I have a friend to meet at sunset, though."

"So you said. Well, anytime you have for cruising come on down. If we're here, we'll be happy to have you . . . to take you out."

"Thanks, Mr. Payne. I'd like that."

"It's Jonathan. And, Luther, we'd show you a really good time. A really good time."

Luther smiled like he understood what he was being told.

"Oh, here, you have a speck on your jeans. Let me . . ." Without further asking, he let his hand run down Luther's crotch. He drew in his breath deeply at discovering how far he had to slide the hand to run out of what he was checking.

"Uh, thanks. I gotta go now. Bye."

"Bye, Luther. Tell you what, you go out on a cruise with us and I'll give you $1,000."

"That's great, Mr. Payne. Maybe I'll see you around."

Jonathan stood, shaking his head, and moving his hand on his crotch as he watched Luther jauntily walk away toward the Cape May beaches.

As Luther passed the H&H restaurant just off the wharf, he saw that one of the dishwashers there where Luther's mother had worked was waving to him. It was Chuck. Luther liked Chuck and waved back to him. It was nice to see old friends like Chuck smiling and waving. Seeing him there made Luther remember his mother, and remembering her always made him smile.

* * * *

Keith was policing his section of the beach, taking stray beach chairs and lounges back up to the rental stands, and bustling around late-leaving bathers. The beach had officially closed a half hour earlier, but it would take some time for some of the people to accept that. Keith wouldn't get pushy for a while.

He looked out toward the ocean and skipped a breath or two when he saw Luther standing there, at the edge of the surf, looking back at the sunset over Cape May and the lights in the town start to flicker on. He was bare-chested and in a pair of worn jeans. He was giving a little shy smile that always turned Keith on and had his hands in his pockets in an "Oh golly, gee whiz" pose. And that little dopey smile of his—the young Tom Selleck smile, Keith always thought.

"You came," Keith said as he walked down the beach to where Luther stood.

"You're right. It's right pretty to watch the town at night from the beach," Luther said.

"That's not the angle I wanted you to see—and it's not late enough to get a real good view of the lights of the town. We'll have to wait for a bit. Come on over and sit on the beach by the lifeguard stand. After I've cleaned the beach area up a bit more, I'll come sit with you and we'll talk until the beach is clear of people. Then you'll see what I was talking about."

When Keith had finished his cleanup duties, they sat by the lifeguard stand, on a large beach towel. Keith brought out two more, which they wrapped around their shoulders—Keith was just in his Speedo—against the breeze flowing across the beach. As the beach became more deserted, the closer together they sat, until they were shoulder to shoulder, with both towels overlapping around them.

Keith put an arm around Luther's waist under the towels, and Luther did the same around Keith's shoulder. Keith reached over with a hand and unzipped Luther, fished his cock out, and started slow pumping it.

"Tell me, Luther. If you could be anywhere in the world and you didn't have to worry about money, where would you go?"

"I don't know," Luther answered. "Where would you go?"

"I'd go straight to Key West, Florida. I'd dance on a bar and let all of the studs there fuck me into eternity. So, come on, where would you go?"

"I'd go right here, I guess," Luther answered after several moments of thought.

"Here on the beach, with me giving you a hand job?"

"Uh, this is nice. But, no, here in Cape May. Day to day stuff."

"Oh, come on, that's not showing any imagination."

"I think I like it right here. I have a job and I'm learning to make things. And I have nice fuck fuck friends like you."

"You're serious, aren't you? I said you could have all the money you needed to live anywhere."

"I like what I have."

"OK, say you could be anyone you wanted to be. Who would that be?"

"Hmm. That's hard. I like me. I know I'm a little slow. But I get there. I get what I want."

"Do you now? Well, you know who I wish I could be?"

"No, who."

"You."

"Why?" Luther was truly surprised.

"Well, because you have a three-hand thick black monster snake that everyone wants inside them."

"Oh, go on, be serious. I don't got no snake. Alfred wouldn't let me have no pet in my room."

"OK, not completely serious. I'll settle for being the second most lucky man in the world."

"Who's that?"

"Me, of course. Because in ten minutes I'm going to have a three-hand thick black monster snake inside me."

Luther showed him a dubious expression.

"A snake. A cock. And not just any cock. A big, long one like this."

"You want me to fuck fuck you? Right here?"

"No. Out there—in the water. Off with those jeans and I'll race you into the ocean. It's time you saw what I invited you here to see."

"Out in the ocean?"

"Yes. Now." Keith jumped up, stripped off his Speedo, and raced out to the water. Luther, slower to react and longer to get his jeans off, stumbled along behind.

"Here. This is about right," Keith said when they got out just before the waves started to break and were in water that was about three-and-a-half feet deep. "Turn facing the town over my shoulder and put me on your cock."

Luther embraced Keith from behind and lifted him up. Keith reached in and, with a groan, impaled himself on Luther's cock.

"There, see the lights of Cape May?" Keith murmured between pants. "Isn't that something, seeing them from out here at night. Now, fuck me flying. I want a flying fuck. Just like this afternoon before that other guy came."

Luther took Keith's wrists and hunched down a bit in the water to counterbalance Keith arching his torso out toward the shore and away from Luther's groin. Keith locked his ankles under Luther's buttocks and began leveraging off his feet, with the aid of the water, and fucking himself in short, deep strokes on Luther's cock.

Faster and faster he pumped, crying out his need and his passion to the noise-swallowing waves breaking on the sand until he cried out in ejaculation. Luther turned Keith on his cock then, with Keith's arms around Luther's neck, his ankles locked once more below Luther's buttocks, and his mouth suckling on Luther's nipples, as, hands encasing Keith's waist, Luther moved Keith's channel up and down on his cock until he too ejaculated.

When they returned to the beach, Keith moved to pick up his Speedo, but Luther pushed him down on the towel beside the lifeguard stand on his back. He held Keith flat on his back with hands planted where Keith's arms met his chest. Luther covered Keith's cock with his mouth, proved that he could get that and Keith's balls in his mouth at the same time, and gave Keith a yodeling—Keith doing the yodeling—blow job.

Keith was whimpering when he came and telling Luther how good that was and that he'd never expected anything like that. Luther pushed Keith's legs apart and as Keith cried out, "Oh, Fuck!" Luther split his channel with his rehardened cock and did just that.

A male couple stealing along the beach toward their own tryst, stopped nearby, and one of them whispered, but loud enough for both Keith and Luther to hear them, "Gawd I wish I was being fucked like that—and with that."

"Maybe—" the other one attempted to say.

"Get off the damn beach. It's closed," Keith cried out. "And this is my stud horse cock!"

Later when they both were letting the sea breeze cool them down, Keith whispered. "To hell with Key West. I get what I want right here."