Nantucket 1970

I was home for the summer. The family had place on Nantucket. The parents had moved here last winter. No friends here. My college was in the Midwest. It was 1970. No friends around. No girl friend to dream about. No interest.

This was years before this part of the island had been developed. It was a low headland dropping down to a broad, low beach on the southeastern “corner” of the island. The next stop East was Spain and Portugal. The swimming was dangerous – undertow. But this was true of the whole stretch of beach on the southern, Atlantic shore of Nantucket.

It was a good bicycle ride down the main road to Siasconset, then a right turn down another road that dead-ended at the top of the headland. A path led down to the beach area, a good distance. This was not a trip for the person looking for a quick jaunt to the beach. It was private. No houses on the road. You need binoculars to see people or birds on the beach. The reason the beach had a reputation of being “nude-friendly”. And” more”. The more was a qualifier not rarely spoken. Well, nudity was not encouraged and usually not spoken of. In fact, I found about the nudity and the “more” by going. No friends to guide. So ff every day, at least for the first month of summer – alone.

The miles riding my bicycle were good for me. I was not god, but I surely developed better looking legs and lost some unneeded belly.

Why did I go there? First curiosity to find our where a road went. Then, taken by its beauty and relative isolation. Then by the fact that on going down to the beach I found that it had places hidden from view where you could, in fact, be nude. I loved being nude even in a non-sexual context. And… it most of time it was essentially empty of people. Any people. It was a good place to spread out a blanket and get a all-over tan. That would be good to achieve just for itself. I could read to my heart’s content. Nap. Be.

The first day I was there. I was alone. A Monday in early July. Some fog. The south shore of the island could have fog when it was sunny elsewhere. I waled down to the beach. Stripped. Applied sunscreen. Relaxed. And let the day happen.

That day happened. I was there from 1 or so to 3. That was the time on the beach. The fog lifted. The sky was filled with puffy clouds. I was alone until around 2:30 when an older guy walked his dog along the beach. He gave me a long look. I waved. He waved back. I stayed where I was. I think he was tall enough to see that I was nude. There was a low dune between us. He smiled. I smiled. Should I stand up? I did not yet know the signals. So, I did not stand. He did not come closer. We went on. But I did feel that stirring in my cock, and at that age the stirring usually led right to an erection. It did. My thrill for the day was masturbating en plein air. Quite nice. He was on the way back. He waved. Had he seen me? If he had, well, I was on my way out.

He said, “Here tomorrow?”

I said, “Yes, if I is sunny. Would be around 1.”

“Maybe I will say hello then.”

“Cool”

He left with the dog. When he was out of sight, I stood up, got dressed and went home. Boring to be there. But I was there. We would see about tomorrow. What about tomorrow. He had been a nice looking man, 40s, trim… blonde, longish hair. He was too far away to see any rings. On the way back he had taken off his shirt. Nice chest.

So what was that with my cock? I did like to jerk off, so far only to Playboy. So why when he was there? Maybe I would find out tomorrow.

I rode my bike home. I loved feeling the breeze in my hair. This was long before helmets became mandatory. Pulled into the driveway. Keep in mind that all I was wearing was a tee shirt and the short shorts men wore then, and no underwear – commando. I swung my leg over the bike to get off. My Dad who was a reactionary, an anti-Semite, did not like Catholics, or blacks, or Asians, and certainly would have no room on this planet for homosexuals was there. He asked, “nice afternoon.”

“Yes, sir. It was. Quiet. The beach. Solitary the way I like it.”

“Well watch out… except for girls…”

“I will,” I said, “and for then too,” I said to myself. I did not mention the man I “met” on the beach or his question about my plans for tomorrow. My Dad would not want to know. And I had to think about that, and feeling that tingle in my cock, well, I better get inside. “Off to take a shower.” At 20, I had stopped caring what he thought. He had never shown much interest in what I was doing, and hell, I was not doing anything more than not working this summer, and now getting out on my bicycle to ride and go to the beach. Fuck him.

That was the end of that day. Imagine the days before on-line porn. I had already cum once, and did not feel like jacking off to Playboy.

Because of the weather, I did not get back to Tom Nevers Head for three days. I was so eager to get there. Was it just to be nude in the sun? That was a good part of it. But I knew there was more to it. That something was going on, something that could be very good. And so that morning I got ready. Shorts, tee shirt, a back-pack filled with towels, sunscreen, binoculars, books, and, at least metaphorically, anticipation. It was Friday morning and so no weekenders yet, I would have to come back this weekend to see what difference that made, but today, a clear beach except for two towels and two bodies already stretched out on the sand in front of the dunes. I parked the bike. Got out the binoculars. Looked. Two men. That’s O.K. Hard to tell how old. That did not matter. Nude? Hard to tell from here, though if they were in bathing suits, they must have been skimpy. I would take another look when I got closer. Now down to the beach. And that feeling in my cock… because of the two men? Because I was going, maybe, to meet that guy from Monday? Meet? What did that mean?

Let’s get down there.

The spot I had occupied Monday was not taken. Oh, and yes, the two men were nude. 20s. Sunning. Holding hands. Not paying attention like it mattered I was there. Looking up and waving.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Nice day.”

“Yes, it is. Great place to be.”

“For sure.”

Was I on the look out for signs, signals? Maybe. My cock seemed to be receiving some. One of the guys stood up. His cock semi-erect. I looked.

“Hey, O.K. to look.”

Did I blush?

“Thank you.”

“Any place is, O.K. If you want to join us now or later, please do. And I am Kevin. My buddy is Nate.”

“Bob. Let me settle in.”

“For sure.”

“Soon.”

Soon? Soon what? Just get together, hang-out. Nude men. I felt a strong and physical Yes. Homosexual. Was I homosexual? I did not have any interest in girls or women except as acceptable sexual objects to jerk to, but except for one, very brief encounter, just stroking, in prep school, nothing to count as being a homo. But, but, but.

So let’s be here and see, be here and anywhere and see. Why not. Sure so many people thought sex between men was just wrong. But where did that idea come from? Prejudice? I did not know. I just knew the sort of things I was feeling, unformed, unclear, seemingly just know in my body before really in my mind, but in any case, feeling, emotions speaking, to be OK, maybe a bit more than OK. We would see.

I went to my little space. Spread my towel. Stripped, applied sun cream, lay on my back to sun. Closed my eyes.

It was sound of a dog and of footsteps that seemed to wake me from my nap.

It was the man from Monday. He was with his dog. Today just weaking shorts. He was between me and the sun so I could not really see him. He could see me. Nude. On my back. Nothing left to the imagination. If I had been dreaming, well the result was an erection.

“Sorry to wake you.”

“No problem.” It tried to cover myself with some towel. But there was just not enough free in the right place.

“Don’t bother, my friend. Must have been a nice dream. Nice result.”

“Well, I guess so. Sorry. I don’t usually show strangers, well,… anything.”

“Don’t worry. Nice to add to the scenery, very nice. Mind if i…”

“No.”

He was soon nude, squatting down, his cock erect, not too many inches from my face. That was incredible. He was good looking, trim, not hairy, just right, toned legs and what did I know then to say about a man’s chest. He extended his hand,

“Hi, I’m Byron.”

“Bob.”

“Live here or visiting?”

“My parents live here, in town. Here for the summer vacation, so really visiting.

“I’m here for the summer. Live in New York. Here. Just me and my dog, Andre after Andre Gide.”

“I know him, I mean I have read Gide in French class. Not an easy read. An interesting guy.”

“L’immoraliste?”

“La Porte Etroite. I wanted to read l’Immoraliste.”

“Come by, I have a copy.”

“I will.”

I will? What is going on here. A nude man with an erection inches from my face is talking me while I am nude, with an erection, about Andre Gide. Now, his dog is named Andre for Andre Gide. Now the dog isn’t a homosexual. Byron… is? Well. This must be a test. Not of my knowledge of French literature, but of.

Then Byron moved a bit closer, his erection closer to my mouth. My cock was staying hard not because I was shocked, or repelled, but because I was aroused, aroused like I don’t think I had every felt, not this way with another male.

“Want it? Asked Byron.

I was looking, staring, focused.

“Your first?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Lie back. Relax. Open you mouth.”

I did. I looked up and saw an incredible, nude, man, his hard cock coming toward me. I opened my mouth.

Take it. I will hold it where I want it. Envelope it with your lips. Begin to savor it. This is your first. I want it to be special for you.”

I did. It was bliss. Incredible. He fed me.

His boy blocked out the sky. I was sucking cock. Incredible.

“I won’t cum now. If you want that will come later. Do you want later?”

“Yes. Please.”

He stood up. His cock head gleaming. His dog was sitting quietly. I sat up. Nate and Kevin were looking over. Nude. Erect. They waved.

“Oh, Nate and Ken. They are staying with me. Let’s get over. I think you have met, but let’s really meet. Did anything about Gide intrigue you?”

“Yes.”

“And that was?”

“What they said about him and…’

“… and his being like me, and Kevin and Nate, just maybe like you, and I think you are a…

“… homosexual. Maybe I am. This all seems right.”

“Gide would agree with you… Bob.”

And I was agreeing with Gide. This was good. I wanted more, much more, whatever more was and would be. This Byron, probably Nate and Kevin, would be there to guide me. Good. Something seemed to be making a little sense.

Maybe I was… time would tell. Just… don’t resist because some assholes told you that men having sex with men was wrong. Yes, time would tell.

“While we are all here, let’s make sure you have met Nate and Kevin officially, not just from a distance.”

He waved them over. They came. No, not that way. They walked over. Like I would have imagined Greek gods – nude, sun illuminating their bodies, their cocks showing their object of interest, maybe not me, but surely Byron. I stared. It now seemed O.K. I had permission.

“Hey, Byron. Hello,” said Nate – 6’, 180, toned, long blond hair to his shoulders, did he shave his pubes? Yes. I had never seen that. Nice.

“Nate, Kevin, meet Bob. He is new to the island this summer, nude to this beach, and new to our special desires, very new, like just now.”

“Hi Bob, Kevin.”

“Bob, Nate.”

“Bob has a nice body. His cock is quite nice. Nate, why not do the honors.”

Honors. Honors… Nate maneuvered to take my cock in his mouth. Amazing. Sweet. Heaven.

“Well… thank you.”

“Bob, the thanks are Nate’s.”

I must have been so primed. I started to cum. Nate kept my cock in his mouth. I pumped, shuddered. Kevin held me. Nate finished me off.

“Shit,” was al I could say. I was on my knees now. Kevin, well Kevin simply stood in front of me. I, I, I opened my mouth. He filled it. I, I, I so wanted it.

That day ended with my taking mu first load orally. It ended with an invitation to Byron’s house the next afternoon. It ended with my riding my bicycle home not confused but knowing I was finding something, had found something that afternoon, that my life was changing, that there would be no women in it, that did not bother me, but only men, and I knew that was not the easy reality in 1970. But it was my reality. Bring it on.

The next morning, I told my parents that I had met some guys and that they had invited me to spend the day with them.

“That’s good, son,” my Dad said.

“I hope they can be friends. I know that our moving here has not made coming home the same,” said my Mom. And this from the people who had moved by first year in high school so I was cut off from home friends. They did not care. Any move was all about them. But so, what. Maybe now I was making something of my situation. I was not going to sit around home. My guess was that Nate, Kevin, and Byron could become good friends. I like that thought.

Noon came. I had showered, trimmed my pubes, thought seriously of shaving there, but held off. Got into my usual “travelling” gear, and two towels, etc. I guessed lunch would be provided. And I knew what I really wanted as food – cum. Damn, musky, funky, incredible.

I was off. Byron’s place was on the south shore as well, in fact off a side road off the side road to Tom Nevers Head. It was private. No neighbors. At the time he owned all the land around it (not now – Byron was a casualty of AIDs as was Nate. Kevin and I still get together - survivors from that time – that is another story). The house had a high stockade around it – about 100 feet out- on the three landsides. I rang at the gate. It opened. I was through into Byron’s world. Lucky me and for the years before AIDS, for all of us and more. And what an extraordinary summer… of that more.