14. Arlo

CHAPTER 14

Arlo

"You dare steal from the Dread Pirate Lolo!" I cry, brandishing the empty plastic bottle I'm using as a cutlass, spraying sand in a circle as I spin around and face my enemy. Thomas is giggling more than cowering, but that's okay. I'll show him. "It's Davy Jones's locker for you, matey! Time to walk the plank!"

"Oh, yeah?" Thomas drawls, flicking his eyes up and down my body in a way that makes me instantly tremble. "You're gonna have to make me, Captain Lolo."

I squeal and scamper over to him, crashing into him where he's sitting down on a blanket. Luckily, we've already finished eating and packed our food away, so it doesn't matter that we kick up even more sand around us.

Nothing matters, actually, other than the fact that Thomas is kissing me again.

This morning was…well, I didn't have the words then and I certainly don't now with our almost naked bodies pressed together again on the beach. Our swimwear won't hide much if we get too excited. We're in public, so we'll keep it respectful. But bloody hell, I can't stop touching him, and I don't want to. His big, muscular body is pretty much what I've been imagining when I've tried to conjure up my perfect Daddy for the past several years.

Everything about him is perfect.

Somehow, from just one conversation he worked out exactly the kind of dynamic I've been craving since I first started fooling around with the other boys at school. Except he did it with the confidence of a man, of my Daddy.

And then afterward? I was ashamed at first at my reaction, but when Thomas understood what was going on, he seemed so touched by my honest and raw emotions. He held me and kissed me and just repeated over and over how perfect I am and how much he loved what we did together. How I was his good boy.

I'm going to be his good boy for the whole of the rest of the trip. That might only be seven days, but I'm going to make them seven days of heaven that he'll never forget because I know I'm not going to. Not ever, ever.

Before the kissing can get too wild, he settles me back down on the blanket, straightening it up around us and brushing off some of the excess sand. When he gets out the bucket and spade as well as the different shaped molds, I squeak in delight and start making various sculptures around us. We're under a parasol with palm trees rustling nearby, the turquoise waves crashing onto the shore several meters away. There are other people in the distance, but they're far enough in the distance that it feels like we're all by ourselves.

I don't know about anyone else, but this is my idea of paradise.

The only thing missing is Jolly. He followed us around all morning, first appearing on the patio as we went to go get breakfast and walking with us all the way to the dining hall. Thomas offered more room service as an option, but I thought it was probably a good idea to get a little space to think. Otherwise, I would have just jumped him again once my dick recovered from round one.

Did I mention how much I love sex? How much I've missed it?

Well…missed might not be the right word, actually. You can't miss something you've never had, and I've certainly never been treated the way Thomas treated me in bed earlier today. Phew. It's probably a good thing that I didn't know how good it could get. I would have been an even hornier mess in school.

I'm glad that Thomas gets me. That he seems to really enjoy the way I feel about sex. For a long time, I wondered if I was as much of a freak as my school chums used to insist I was.

It always left such a dirty taste in my mouth that they would love fucking me in the moment, but then as soon as they cleaned themselves off, I became a joke. Nothing but a silly slut to be laughed at.

I always knew that ‘slut' wasn't a bad word, though. Ginny has always hammered that into me since we talked about the birds and the bees. Because of course my parents never once discussed safe sex with me. Thank goodness for my cousin and her frank words, not to mention the box of condoms she forced upon me.

That was something else the boys used to tease me for. I refused to do anything with them without protection, even blow jobs. I know the risk of transmission from those is low, and with Thomas, I trust him. But those boys were nasty, and I always stood my ground. They might have bitched and moaned about it, but at least they never broke that rule.

I realize my thoughts have run away with me. I take a deep breath of warm air and glance up to the resort in the trees where Jolly will no doubt be waiting for us to return. He stopped following us at the top of the stairs that lead to the beach as if there was a forcefield there. That's okay, though. I like to think that if he knows to remain on the grounds of the resort, he'll be safer.

In his honor, I take the stick end of the spade I was using to make castles and start drawing a Jolly Roger flag into the sand. I've doodled it a lot, so the familiar skull and crossbones shapes come naturally to me.

"Baby boy," Thomas says in a quizzical tone. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," I say. I've finished the flag, so I pat out another seashell. Earlier, Thomas fetched me a bowl of water to mix with the sand. Therefore, it's just damp enough to hold really good shapes.

"Why do you love pirates so much?"

"Because they're awesome!" I cry without hesitation. "Shiver me timbers!"

He laughs and rubs my bare back. I bite my lip and look at him, feeling all warm and tingly.

"They are," he agrees. "But…aren't they also the bad guys? You're such a good boy. I was just wondering why they make you happy."

I chuckle. "Silly Daddy. Some pirates were bad guys. Some people in every group are the bad guys."

Now, I'm not stupid. I know the difference between history and reality and fiction. I'm sure most pirates did a lot of horrible things in real life. But I'm talking about the idea that pirates represent here. That's what I love. Maybe when I'm big again, I can explain it to Thomas some more. But I'm so happy in little space right now, I try my best to convey what enamors me to them so much, using the best words I can.

"Maybe pirates aren't the baddies," I say as I focus on my next creation made of sand. "Maybe the navy is. The navy just wants to make everybody follow their rules, live on their schedule, do the jobs they want people to do, not what will make people happy."

I can feel Thomas watching me carefully. "Oh, I see," he says kindly. "That sounds pretty tough, buddy."

Nodding, I make another sandy seashell. "It's horrible, Daddy. It makes people feel sad and lonely and like the things they want to do are wrong." He hums. I think he knows who I really mean by ‘people.'

"But pirates are different?" he prompts.

"Uh-huh," I agree. "Pirates are free. Pirates have their own rules and codes and honor. Yes, some pirates do mean things. These ones should have better rules."

I scowl, but Daddy laughs at me, so it doesn't last long. "It's good to have rules about not killing and robbing people," he says sagely, making me giggle.

"People generally frown on murder," I tell him wisely.

"So I've heard." He winks at me.

"But nice pirates," I continue to explain. "They don't want to hurt regular people. They just take what they need from the navy to survive. Mostly they just want to be left alone. Free to spend their days how they like doing what makes them happy. Making friends like them. Falling in love with whoever they want."

I'm aware by the time I've finished speaking, I've gotten quiet. There's a lump in my throat and my eyes feel prickly.

"Lolo," Daddy says as he squeezes my knee. "Can I ask you a question about pirates?"

"Yes, Daddy," I tell him softly.

He nods and thinks for a second. "Actually, my question is about the navy. They don't like the way pirates act, right?" I nod. "They try and make the pirates more like the navy. But the pirates don't want that, do they?"

"No, Daddy." I sniff. I don't want to be sad, but at the same time, it's nice that Thomas can maybe understand me a little better.

"The navy wouldn't like Daddy, would they?" he asks gently.

It hurts, but I shake my head. "No, they wouldn't. They wouldn't like Lolo, either. They want Lolo to be Arlington. Arlington is supposed to be a man. He's supposed to marry a nice lady and have babies and run the navy someday."

I don't feel the tears running down my face until Thomas reaches out and stills my hands. I didn't realize I was smashing up my sandcastles, either. I hiccup and look at him, wishing I didn't have to think about these things.

"I wish Daddy and Lolo could stay on the beach forever," I say, my voice cracking.

"I know, baby boy." He brushes the sand off his hand before reaching up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. Then he grins at me. "Only if Jolly can stay, too," Thomas adds.

That barks a startled laugh out of me. I know Thomas is afraid of the orange beast, but it means the world to me that he'd include my adopted cat in our imaginary getaway plan.

"Daddy, Lolo, and Jolly," I agree. "Family of three. Pirates pick their own families, you know? That's their crew. They rely on each other and help each other out."

"That sounds good," Thomas says.

I hum and start remaking some of my destroyed sand sculptures. "Boy pirates can marry other boy pirates, too," I tell him, aware I'm blushing. This might be where my initial fixation came from when I read about pirates all those years ago.

"Can boy pirates marry Daddy pirates?" Thomas asks with a laugh, making me squirm. I know he's just teasing, but even talking about marriage with him makes my whole body burn with something else I didn't even know I was yearning for.

"Naturally," I tell him in a precocious tone. But then I bite my tongue between my teeth and snicker. Talking about marriage is a bit much, so I continue telling him my facts. "The captain performs the ceremony. It's called ‘matelotage.' Nobody makes pirates marry nice innocent girls and force them to make babies together."

"Oh?" Thomas raises his eyebrows and smirks. "Does that mean one of the pirates can be the baby, then?"

I giggle and nod. "Yes, Daddy."

"Well, I like the sound of that," he says.

The conversation moves on after that. Thomas helps me build a moat around my sandcastle and uses some driftwood as a bridge. Then we play in the water for a while, splashing in the waves. He tickles me and makes me squeal until he quietens me with salty kisses.

I know this can't last forever. It's just an escape from the reality I'll face when I return home. There's no defying my parents, and if they want me to marry and continue the family name, that's what I'll have to do. I don't have any other options or prospects.

But I think that Thomas understands about pirates now and why they're so important. If I could, I'd choose someone like him to be my family.

At least for now, I can pretend.