Jolly Old St. Barts

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Jolly Old St. Barts

he deeply tanned handsome hunk charged out of the
azure  water.  A  bright-white  banana  hammock,
leaving  little  to  the  imagination  and  plenty  of
expectation,  performed  its  envied  duty  with  a  tease.

Pausing on the sun-bleached sand with the ocean swirling in
the  background,  the  hunk  raised  his  muscled  arms  to  the
sun,  showing  off  gorgeous,  dark  tufts  of  hair.  Then  he
turned,  paused,  and  sauntered  down  the  beach,  his
curvaceous, naked ass mesmerizing as it shifted from side to
side.

Startled out of his lustful trance by a fat, lazy snowflake

making  a  direct  hit  on  the  tip  of  his  nose,  Matt  glanced
around  the  tree  lot.  Large  flakes  were  beginning  to  cascade
down  all  around  him,  their  plump,  white  bodies  changing
colors  as  they  passed  by  the  swooping  strings  of  Christmas
lights  outlining  the  lot.  Reluctant  to  say  goodbye  to  the
smokin’ hot video he’d been watching, he pocketed his phone
and  hurried  into  the  makeshift  plywood  shelter.  He  glanced
down  at  his  watch—it  was  already  past  five.  It  wouldn’t  be
much  longer,  he  thought  as  he  pulled  his  phone  back  out
and fired it up.

Wait… go back to the site with the über handsome dude.

The one with those dreamy bedroom eyes.

Matt backed up his search until he found what he’d

been looking for: St. Bart’s Hotties. He had no problem

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

remembering where to navigate, and sure enough, his hottie
was waiting patiently for his return.

Hello, Bart! My name is Matt. A sleepover? Sure, I’d love

to!

Page after page showed the model in various swimsuits

and  poses  both  on  the  beach  and  off.  Matt  found  himself
gravitating  back  to  one  photograph  in  particular.  It  wasn’t
the  most  revealing  picture  in  the  collection,  but  it  was  the
most satisfying. There was something so familiar about that
handsome  face.  Had  he  seen  the  model  featured  in  a
magazine?

The memory swooped in out of nowhere—there was a

guy  last  year  on  the  lot  who  took  his  breath  away.  He  had
eyes  like  the  swimsuit  guy’s.  Matt  remembered  hating
himself  for  days  after—Emile  had  only  been  gone  for  a
month.

This photo featured the model wearing a red Speedo and

a  white  muscle  shirt,  lying  on  the  wet  sand.  His  body
language  invited  Matt  to  snuggle  up  close.  Closing  his  eyes
Matt tried to imagine what it would feel like to be wrapped in
the  model’s  warm,  powerful  arms.  For  now,  fantasies  like
this were all he had. They were baby steps toward a process
he still couldn’t bring himself to initiate.

Emile would be mad if he knew I was lonely and,

because of his memory, not doing anything about it. He would
never require this.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Matt was only starting to buy into this notion that life

could move on. He knew this was important. Friends had
begun to encourage him to start dating.

But it seems so soon.

Only a short year separated him from tragedy. His life

had  been  shattered  when  he  lost  his  partner  of  four  years,
Emile,  in  a  car  accident.  Emile  was  thirty-three,  several
years older than Matt. He was killed on a late-November day,
when another driver swerved into his lane, causing a head-
on collision. Driving conditions were excellent and both cars
were  thought  to  be  traveling  the  speed  limit  on  the  busy
expressway.  The  other  driver,  married  and  a  father  of  two,
died  several  days  later.  It  was  still  a  mystery  as  to  why  his
car left its lane and entered Emile’s.

Matt had spoken to Emile just minutes prior to the fatal

crash.

“Hey, Matty, how are you doing?” Emile almost always

called him Matty unless they were with people they didn’t
know well.

“I’ll be a whole lot better when I see your smiling face.”

Matt  cherished  his  time  at  home  with  Emile.  They  rarely
went  out,  choosing  instead  to  enjoy  one  another  in  the
comfort of their apartment.

“Have you had a chance to think about dinner?” Emile

had asked.

“I’m making BLTs and I have some tomato soup

warming.”

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“Very good, Matty. If the traffic isn’t too heavy, I’m going

to stop off and renew my driver’s license. I’ll be a few
minutes late, so don’t worry.”

“Okay, sweetie, drive safe.” How ironic, Matt thought

each time he replayed in his mind the last words they had
shared.

Why hadn’t I insisted he come right home?

Handsome, loving Emile. Born in France, he had come

to  the  US  as  a  teenager  when  his  father’s  job  required  the
family  to  transfer.  With  amazing  clarity,  Matt  remembered
the  first  time  he  met  Emile.  They  both  were  attending  the
University  of  Minnesota.  Emile  was  in  his  senior  year,  and
Matt was just starting out. A party at a mutual friend’s had
been  the  setting.  Emile  had  come  into  the  small  apartment
kitchen to refill a glass of wine, and in an instant, Matt was
a  goner.  “It’s  his  voice,  his  accent  that  makes  me  crazy,”
Matt  remembered  he  had  joked  to  friends  shortly  after  they
had  started  seeing  each  other,  “And  his  looks  aren’t  bad,
either—ooh la la.”

In some respects, the holidays this year were even more

painful.  Last  year  had  been  one  big  horrific  blur.  He  barely
remembered working the tree lot. A few select scenes were all
he could recall. Several customers had expressed sympathy.
It  was  always  awkward.  The  enormity  of  his  loss  was  both
numbing and consuming.

Matt shook his head to clear away the all-too-familiar

feeling of emptiness, a bittersweet remnant of Emile that had
just upstaged “swimsuit guy.” He was starting to gain control

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

of these sad spells. It took work to move on, and even though
he recognized the healing process had begun, being without
Emile every single day was an emotional roller-coaster he
begged to be off.

What does swimsuit guy’s voice sound like? Those deep

dark eyes, I bet it’s soft and sexy.

Staring down at the tiny image of the handsome man in

the red bathing suit, he tried once again to imagine himself
wrapped up tight in swimsuit guy’s strong arms. Oh, how
wonderful it would feel to be loved again. Closing his eyes, he
could almost feel those full, wonderful lips brushing behind
his ear and down the back of his neck. A shiver ran through
his body as he savored the moment.

I’m ready. I need someone in my life again. I’m not good

on my own.

He was brought out of his fantasy by the familiar sound

of his uncle’s truck. Matt stepped out of the shelter and
waved as it entered the lot.

“Hello, sport!” his uncle greeted him with a wave. “Had

enough of the tree-selling business this year?”

“Hey, Uncle Ken!” Matt slid his phone into his pocket.

Going back to his teens, Matt had always banked on

working  the  tree  lot  for  his  uncle.  In  a  way,  Uncle  Ken  and
his  wife,  Aunt  Rose,  were  like  a  second  set  of  parents,  not
having any kids of their own to spoil. Although working the
lot  required  standing  out  in  the  elements  most  evenings  for
weeks  leading  up  to  the  holiday,  Uncle  Ken  made  it  well
worth his effort.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Here!” his uncle said, reaching into the backseat.

“Hang this on the fence and let’s call it a season.”

Matt accepted a hand-painted sign that read, “All Trees

Now FREE.”

“The cash from today, if there is any, is all yours. Bring

the till with you tomorrow, and I’ll store it away until next
year.”

“You sure? There was more action today than I thought

there’d be.” Matt was careful not to abuse the generosity. As
instructed, he hung the sign on the fence post.

“I’m sure. I’d just spend it on beer, and that would

surely piss off your aunt.”

Matt laughed at his uncle’s remark. It was all a smoke

screen. Aunt Rose would buy the beer herself if Uncle Ken
asked her to.

“Oh, your dad called this morning. He and your mom

are planning on showing up ’bout noon. Shoot for that,
okay? Don’t be late if you know what’s good for you!” Uncle
Ken shook his finger at him and winked. “Your auntie’s been
cooking her heart out the last couple of days. She made that
sweet-potato pie you can’t live without.”

“I’ll be on time, you can count on that!” Christmas and

his birthday wouldn’t be the same without one of his aunt’s
scrumptious sweet-potato pies. “Can I bring anything?” Matt
already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway.

“Just an empty stomach is all I can think of. You

headed over to your parents’ tonight?” His uncle brushed a
snowflake or two off of his bushy eyebrow.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Matt had to think about the right response. He’d already

made the decision not join his parents for midnight service.
He  called  his  mother  earlier  in  the  day  to  beg  off  using  the
“college friend home for the holidays” excuse everyone knew
was a crock of crap. With Emile gone, the family had, while
still  keeping  an  eye  out,  stepped  back  to  allow  him  time  to
deal  with  his  loss.  Soon  he’d  have  to  find  a  way  to  thank
them all for their patience. But tonight, he needed to be on
his  own.  He’d  thought  about  heading  out  to  the  bars.  It
could  happen.  He’d  spent  so  much  time  on  his  own  lately
he’d almost forgotten how alive and energized it felt to be on
a crowded dance floor, held captive by the pulsating music.
Who  am  I  kidding?  Most  likely  he’d  pick  up  takeout  and
hunker down in front of the television. His goal this holiday
season—to  keep  the  crying  spells  to  a  minimum.  This  was
something  he  needed  to  work  out  by  himself.  Tonight,
Christmas Eve, would be a special challenge.

“I’m thinkin’ I’d like to be on my own tonight.” Matt’s

eyes dove to his feet, unable to make contact with his
uncle’s. He couldn’t mask the guilt he felt for abandoning his
family.

“Well, whatever the hell it is you decide to do, stay safe,”

his uncle cautioned, minus his warm smile. “We could see
three to five inches of this junk by morning, and remember,
noon tomorrow and not a minute later.”

“Gotcha! Say hi to Auntie Rose!”
Matt waved as his uncle backed the truck out of the lot.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

little bit of heaven! Man, it’s good to be home!

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, frickin’

frightful, but the fire is so delightful, SOOOO
DELIGHTFUL! DO-WHAP-A-DOOBIE,” Andy shouted
into the shower spigot. Throwing his head back, he

laughed, the hot water pummeling his chest.

It didn’t matter how plush a hotel his manager put him

in or how long the list of five-star amenities the hotel offered,
his  own  shower  and  the  comfort  of  sleeping  in  his  own  bed
couldn’t  be  beat.  Nothing  came  close.  Turning  to  allow  the
water to pulsate against the back of his neck, Andy replayed
the highlights of his week in Milan.

This is it, Andy, ol’ boy! You’re about to hit the top of the

heap. This is the explosion you’ve been waiting for.

Milan, the culmination of an intense and frenzied climb

from  small,  low-budget  modeling  jobs  to  A-list  shoots,  had
been  a  wild  ride.  His  success  in  Milan  finally  put  the  ball
back  in  his  court.  The  client  was  ecstatic  and  gushed  over
the final product. Andy could be selective now, choosing gigs
for the first time in his career. He could regain control of his
life  and  begin  focusing  on  finding  someone  special  to  share
the  rewards  of  all  his  hard  work.  There  wasn’t  a  thing  he
wanted  more  right  now.  It  wasn’t  that  he  was  lonely,  well,
not  really.  Or  desperate.  Certainly  not  desperate.  He  wasn’t
whole. Finding the right person to share his life with would
be the icing on the Andy cake. He was damn good and ready,
and for once, nothing was standing in the way.

“I am sixteen going on seventeen….”

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Oh God, where did that come from?

“I am twenty-nine going on thirty, want a man to call my

own.” Andy laughed at what a dork he could be. Shutting off
the  water,  he  stepped  out  of  the  massive,  marble  shower.
Grabbing  a  large,  plush  bath  towel  from  the  brushed-
aluminum  shelf  nearby,  he  dried  off,  savoring  the  warm,
moist air.

Updating the bathroom last year had been the best

investment he’d ever made. Once the royalties started rolling
in from the exclusive fragrance deal he’d signed a couple of
days  ago,  he’d  have  enough  money  to  finish  the  industrial-
style  loft.  His  plan  was  to  create  lush,  comfortable  pockets
within  the  old  factory  space.  To  date,  he’d  completed  the
large  Roman-style  bathroom  and  the  dark,  richly  appointed
master  bedroom.  The  kitchen  would  be  his  next  project.
Once the holiday was over and the shoppers had run out of
money,  he’d  start  picking  out  the  components  for  the
gourmet kitchen he’d fantasized for years about having.

Stealing a glance in the mirror, he decided the growth

on  his  face  was  still  tame  enough  to  skip  shaving.  Still
steaming  from  the  shower,  he  strolled  through  the  archway
into his bedroom and from there across the large room into
the huge walk-in closet.

Regular-dude clothes, buddy. Nothing fancy.

Because his work centered around clothes, very

expensive clothes, Andy devoted an entire section of his
closet to what he loved to call “regular dude” clothes. Jeans,
T-shirts, ultra casual attire that felt great to wear and did

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

nothing  to  remind  him  of  the  apparel  he  was  usually
required  to  be  dressed  in.  Comfort food  and  comfort  clothes,
baby! Opening a drawer, he pulled out a pair of soft flannel
boxers, snapping the waist band once they had slid up and
over  his  muscular  butt.  Next,  he  climbed  into  a  pair  of
“regular dude” jeans, threw on a white T-shirt, and finished
the look off with a faded U of M sweatshirt. Standing in front
of  the  full-length  mirror,  he  was  pleased  with  the  image
smiling back.

“Hey there, regular dude,” he said, cruising himself with

a sexy smirk, “new in town?”

Pulling on a pair of socks, he stepped into his “regular

dude” boots, slipped on his watch, and headed toward the
front door.

Whoa… hang on a second, buddy boy. Aren’t you

forgetting a couple of things?

Crossing through the main living space Andy entered a

small  corner  room  he  used,  at  least  for  the  time  being,  for
storage.  There  he  found  a  box  overflowing  with  lights  and
ornaments.  Next  to  it  was  a  tree  stand.  He  carried  these  to
the  opposite  corner  of  the  loft  and  positioned  the  stand  in
the  same  place  he’d  had  the  tree  the  year  before.  Ah,  the
luxury of having a second year under your belt, he reminded
himself.  Last  year  he  had  moved  the  tree  three  different
times.  Andy  liked  how  you  could  see  the  tree,  view  the
skyline from the expansive bank of windows, and take in the
fireplace, all from the same spot.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Glancing at his watch, he knew he had to hustle. He

wanted  to  get  home,  set  the  tree  up,  and  kick  back  with
some munchies and wine. He’d made a few stops on the way
from  the  airport  to  pick  up  groceries  and  alcohol  to  have
through the holidays. The tree was last on the list of things
he  needed  to  make  his  holiday  complete.  Well,  not  really.
There was a lot more missing if he stopped to think about it.
Like a family? He’d gotten used to that one, but just barely.
Seemed  his  family—Mom,  Dad,  and  a  younger  sister,  didn’t
have  room  in  their  hearts  or  their  lives  for  a  gay  son  or
brother. Andy hadn’t had any contact with them for several
years.

Andrew Porter, you know better than that. Don’t go there!

This would be the last year he spent the holidays alone,

he  had  decided  on  the  plane  home.  At  the  very  least,  this
would  be  the  last  year  he  didn’t  at  least  feel  good  about
making an attempt to find someone to spend his life with.

All the decorations in the world won’t brighten up a life

like a boyfriend, buddy boy.

“But as long as you hold me tight, do-whap-a-doobie.”

Andy wrapped a scarf around his neck, threw on a coat,
grabbed his keys, and bolted out the door.

The flight back from Italy had been uneventful. The

luxury of flying first class had afforded  him a much-needed
opportunity to catch up on his sleep. At the moment, he felt
energized as he navigated his SUV through the snow. A good
inch  had  fallen  from  the  time  he’d  gotten  home,  showered,
and  back  out  on  the  road.  Pulling  into  the  mall,  he  was

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

thankful to see lights illuminating the tree lot. Andy parked
the car and jumped out into a giant snow globe.

There didn’t appear to be anyone around. He spotted the

“All Trees Now FREE” sign posted on the wooden fence. A
bad omen.

Shit! I don’t have any rope.

He didn’t care about the price. He was hoping someone

would be there to help him load the tree onto his car.

You know that’s not the only reason you’re disappointed

no one’s around. Come on, fess up! You were hoping to see
Matthew.

Adorable, wholesome Matthew had that special look

Andy  found  irresistible.  It  was  a  look  that  no  amount  of
money  or  expensive  clothing  could  duplicate.  He  had  cast
the dude as the lead in his late-night jerk sessions on several
occasions, to great success.

Andy smiled, remembering his lame attempt at trying to

make a move last year.

You hid behind a tree and spied, you idiot!

One of the first things he’d observed, while spying from

behind the large Fraiser fir he’d strategically moved near the
tree-bagging  area,  was  how  serious  and  sad  Matthew  had
looked.  On  others  this  might  have  diminished  their  overall
appeal,  but  not  with  this  guy.  Andy  remembered  a
vulnerability that spoke to him so strongly he’d fought off an
urge  take  this  handsome  man  into  his  arms  and  hold  him

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

tight until he was rewarded with a smile. This guy had an
“off-limits” aura that begged to be challenged.

Just give me a shot. One shot is all I ask.

Fueled by as strong a desire as he had ever experienced,

Andy  remembered  he’d  decided  upon  two  objectives:  one,
confirm  Matthew  was  gay,  a  showstopper  if  he  was  off  on
this one—life experience had provided him with a knack for
instant  qualification  that  escaped  many;  and  two,  to  charm
the socks off this guy so he came away with either a date or
a phone number. He took a deep breath before stepping out
from behind his evergreen blind. As he was closing in on his
target,  a  young  woman  approaching  from  the  opposite
direction  got  to  Matthew  first.  Andy  did  his  best  to  appear
busy,  to  mark  time,  but  after  a  few  awkward  moments
retreated back to the safety of his fir tree.

He had tried to eavesdrop, but people crossing between

them and the voices of excited children nearby had made it
almost impossible for him to stay connected to their
conversation.

“Mom’s book club… Matthew.”

Matthew… wow, that’s his name. I love that name!

Matthew, funny, he sort of looks like a Matthew. Shut up,
Andy! What the hell does a Matthew look like, anyway?

“I’m so sorry… Mark and Rita’s son, Emile… It was such

a shock to us. Called your mom. You’re in our prayers.”

After the woman had hugged Matthew and moved on,

Andy had tried to piece together the gist of their
conversation.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

You’re in our prayers. Someone close to Matthew had

died. That explains his sadness. The death was unexpected,
because the woman had said something had been a shock.
God, maybe it had just happened. Who was Emile? A friend,
oh no… a brother? Was it his boyfriend?

The memory reminded Andy of how deflated he’d felt

having been sent away from the tree lot without any hope of
getting a phone number, or even making an impression on
the handsome stud.

“That’ll be forty-seven for the tree.” Matthew had been

all business. “Set it over by the bagger, and I’ll be there in a
minute.”  His  distant  smile,  displayed  in  limited  quantity,
came  off  as  obligatory  at  best.  A  keen  sense  of  frustration
had stuck with Andy for weeks afterward.

You dumb shit! Why didn’t you head right over here from

the airport? It’s Christmas Eve, for God’s sake! Maybe he
doesn’t work here anymore so it wouldn’t have mattered
anyway?

Andy was disappointed and as expected, it was slim

pickings,  with  some  of  the  rows  totally  bare.  He  spotted  a
clump of trees over on the left side of the lot. As long as the
tree had a triangular shape to it, and it was over five feet in
height, he could make it work. After all, most trees, even the
skimpiest, looked great after they were loaded up with lights
and  decorations.  Toss  back  a  few  glasses  of  wine  and  the
damn thing would look like it was hand delivered by Martha
Stewart.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Andy pulled a tree off the rack, spinning it around until

he had eyeballed it from every angle.

Hmmm… not tooooo bad.

Setting it back against the rack, he did the same with

another.

Argh. No way! Poor guy, looks like you had your stomach

removed.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

The voice startled him. Twirling around, surprise gave

way to jubilation when he spotted Matthew lumbering down
the pine-covered pathway.

“Hi there!” Andy couldn’t hold back the huge smile that

had launched on its own. Caught off guard, he bounced back
over to the first tree and pretended to inspect it. The goofy
smile wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew’s presence made him
feel giddy. He couldn’t believe his good fortune and struggled
to mask his delight.

“Are all the trees really free?” he asked, still trying to

defuse his excitement to a manageable level.

“Yep. An hour earlier and I’d have to get”—Andy held his

breath  when  Matthew  moved  in  closer  and  examined  the
tree—“fifty-five  smackers  from  you.  I’m  surprised  this  one
was left behind. The short-needled trees are really popular.”

“Is there any chance you still have some string around I

can use to tie my tree to the car?”

“Oh sure, that’s no problem. I have a few things to do

before I shut the lot down. Shop around if you want….” The

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handsome man stood on the tips of his feet to give the lot a
once-over. “But it looks like you’ve already spotted the cream
of the crop. Wait… wait a minute. The last time I looked
there were a couple clusters of trees leftover on that side you
might want to check out.”

Andy looked in the direction he was pointing.

I’ll look, but I know already what I want. Let’s hope…

please, Santa… you’ll want the same thing too.

“Okay, thanks! I’ll check ’em out.” Andy forced himself

to step in that direction.

“I’ll be up by the shed. Drag your tree there, and I’ll get

you all set,” Matthew said with a wink.

“Thanks!” Dude, was that a wink? I mean, seriously,

was that a boner-fide  wink? Oh man, what’s going on here?
The  urge  to  merge  was  even  stronger  than  it  had  been  last
year.  And  the  oddest  thing—in  his  profession,  he  was
surrounded  by  hot  guys.  Dozens.  He  rarely  considered
hooking  up  with  any  of  them  because  they  all  seemed  the
same.  Only  on  rare  occasions  did  anyone  stand  out,  and
when someone did stand out, it often wasn’t a good thing.

Wait, that’s it!

It was a lightbulb moment. His dick understood the

difference. Only moments ago he had been standing next  to
a  real  live  “regular  dude.”  Not  some  pretty  boy  who  had  a
black belt in bitch-slapping.

A plan was forming. He headed back to the first tree.

Wrapping his hands around the middle of its trunk, he half

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

carried, half dragged it up and leaned it against the side of
the plywood shed.

It’s go for broke time, Andy.

“Perfect timing,” Matthew said, poking his head out from

inside the shack. A single bare bulb dangling from the ceiling
was bright enough for Andy to catch a better look. This guy
was the epitome of wholesomeness. Youthful with blond hair
cropped short, Andy’s breath was taken away when he
caught site of those remarkable blue eyes. How could I have
forgotten those? Maybe it’s because you were staring at
something other than his eyes, he answered himself. Shorter
than him, Matthew had a solid build, a tough, scrappy thing
going on that Andy found insanely irresistible.

Okay, you have one shot here, buddy boy.

With an expert flair, Matthew cut off an inch of the

trunk with a saw, guided the tree through the bagger, and
carried it over to the car. “Let me grab some rope from the
shed and I’ll get this tied on.”

Ask him over for a drink. He can say yes, or he can say

no. You have nothing to lose.

“I sure wish I had a helper like”—Exactly like!—“you at

home. Lugging a tree up two flights of stairs is no picnic.”
Andy struggled to finalize his game plan.

Brilliant. Not!

“Well I’m glad I was still around to bag it for you,”

Matthew answered with a warm smile.

Go for it. Just do it!

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“I’m Andy, by the way. Say, care to stop by for a drink? I

live about a mile from here.” I am sixteen going on seventeen!
“What am I thinking?” he continued with what he hoped was
the right amount of disappointment. “It’s Christmas Eve, you
probably have a million things to do already.”

Matthew appeared to ignore his invitation. That sucks!

Oh well, you can’t fault me for trying, but really? You’re not
even going to acknowledge my offer?

Andy was just about to give up hope when Matthew

turned to him and asked with a million dollar grin, “You’re
close by?”

“Yes!” Andy chimed without realizing it. “I mean yes, I

live really close.”

Matthew secured the rope from the tree already on the

top of Andy’s car to the bumper. “It’s been a long, hard day
at the old tree lot. A drink sounds great! Sure, let’s do it. I’m
Matt!”

Of course you are! You don’t know it, but we’re old

friends.

truggling  to  control  his  excitement  at  the  thought  of
having  a  cocktail  with  Andy,  Matt  found
concentrating  on  driving  a  challenge.  Without  any
effort on his part, his life was being sidetracked—his
date  with  loneliness  delayed  by  an  unexpected

change of plans. This would be the first time since Emile’s

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

passing  he  would  be  alone  with  another  man.  Alone  in  a
way…  Matt  let  the  thought  drift  away  and  then  brought  it
right back. Let’s go there. It’s time. He would be alone with a
man,  and  if  anything  else  were  to  develop  past  a  simple
drink, he’d have an opportunity to either pass or play along.

He remembered Andy from last year the instant he

turned  and  said  hi.  How  could  you  forget  that  handsome
face?  Matt  even  remembered  what  the  guy  had  been
wearing—much  the  same  as  he  had  on  tonight:  jeans,  a
bulky  coat,  and  boots.  Without  the  required  X-ray  vision  to
see through his winter wear, Matt just knew the dude had a
hot  body.  He’d  caught  glimpses  of  Andy’s  masculine,  cocky
swagger while at the same time helping other customers. He
had  thought  at  the  time  that  Andy  had  to  have  someone
waiting  at  home.  Someone  he  could  laugh  with,  and  enjoy
decorating  the  tree with.  Perhaps  a  family.  Nobody  that  hot
could  possibly  be  alone.  Alone  like  Matt  was.  When  it  had
come  time  for  Andy  to  pay  for  his  tree,  he’d  felt  his  face
flush.  He  remembered  how  his  hands  shook  when  he
returned Andy’s change. I can’t believe he invited me over for
a drink.

Matt followed closely behind Andy’s black SUV as it

weaved through side streets until it pulled up to what looked
to be an old factory of some kind. The first floor was dark,
the second floor brightly lit, and the third floor had a few
lights on, but for the most part, it too was dark.

Are you sure you know what you’re doing?

He hopped out of his truck and walked over to meet

Andy, who had already started to untie the rope on the tree.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Here, why don’t you let me do that. I’m a pro,” Matt

offered when he saw Andy struggling with the knots.

“Thanks! This is sure nice of you to stop over. I know it

looks kind of scary from the outside, but I live in a loft on the
third floor. It’s not for everybody, but I love it. I have the
entire floor.”

Matt finished untying the tree and lifted it off the car. “I

tell you what, if you can get the door and clear the way, I can
manage the tree.”

“Really?”

Matt saw the instant relief in Andy’s face. “Sure! I think

two of us trying to get this up the stairs would be a mistake.
I’ll let you know if I need a hand. Ready?” Matt lifted the tree
off the ground and tilted it sideways.

“Let’s do it!” Andy jogged ahead and unlocked the

entrance to the building.

The scent of freshly cut wood made the old building

smell new. Lights every few feet illuminated the stairs. Andy
led the way.

Wow! That’s a really, really hot butt.

Matt lugged the tree up the stairs. After each turn, he

rewarded himself with a glance at the butt leading the way.
Oh  man…..  He’d  been  invited  over  to  have  a  drink,  not  a
playdate with Andy’s ass he reminded himself as he trudged
ahead.  With  each  flight  of  stairs,  his  decision  to  accept  the
invitation seemed more and more like the right choice.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

That’s the hottest ass I’ve seen in a long time. I wonder

what it looks like out of those jeans? Yummy!

At the top, a short hallway extended from the stairwell

to a door, which Andy opened, stepping aside while Matt
followed with the tree.

“I have a stand set up over here in the corner.” Andy

snapped  on  a  few  lights  and  guided  Matt  across  the  huge
living  space  to  the  opposite  end  of  the  loft.  Matt  placed  the
tree into the stand.

Andy got down on his knees and began to secure it.

“How does it look, is it straight?” he asked.

Are you straight?

“I think so.” Matt suppressed a giggle while adjusting

the tree slightly. “Go ahead and tighten it up. We can fine
tune later if it leans to the side.”

“There!” Andy stood up after tightening the last fastener.

“That should do it. I really appreciate the help. Now, I
promised you a drink, what’s your pleasure? Beer? Wine? A
cocktail?”

If you only knew….

“Hmm… I’ll have what you’re having.” Matt followed

Andy into the kitchen.

“Are you into red wine?” His host examined the labels of

the bottles on a small wine rack on the kitchen counter.

“Sure, love wine,” Matt answered.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Great! I fell in love with a red from Portugal and ended

up  buying  a  case.  Let’s  give  it  a  shot.  Oh,  go  ahead  and
throw  your  coat  on  the  bench  over  there.  I’ll  be  back  in  a
minute.”

Matt took off his coat and scarf and laid them on the

bench. He walked into the large living area, where they had
put  up  the  tree.  The  space  was,  as  Andy  had  described,
industrial looking. Matt wasn’t sure if he liked it. He did like
the  wide  expanse  of  windows  stretching  across  the  entire
wall.  They  offered  up  tremendous  views  of  the  city.  That
rocks!

“Sorry,” Andy said as he strolled into the kitchen minus

his coat, “I was floating, had to pee. Oh man, I’m hot.” He
removed his sweatshirt and placed it on the counter.

You’ve got that right. Hot as Georgia asphalt!

“We should get some water in this stand so the tree can

start drinking,” Matt cautioned, “or, it will shut down and
you’ll have a bunch of dry needles in no time.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. After I get a glass of wine

in your hand, I’ll take care of getting a drink for the tree.”
Andy busied himself with the wine.

Matt walked toward the kitchen. Andy’s back was to

him as he opened the bottle. Minus the additional top layers,
Andy  had  on  a  simple  white  T-shirt  and  jeans.  Matt  could
finally  see  what  this  guy  had  been  hiding  underneath  his
bulky  coat  and  sweatshirt.  Wide,  muscled  shoulders
narrowed  down  to  a  trim  waist—perfection.  Hi  again,  butt!
I’m Matt. Whew!

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Andy poured the wine, turned, and handed Matt a glass.

“Cheers! And thank you for your help tonight,” he said,
locking eyes with Matt and smiling.

“Oh my God!” Matt gasped as Andy leaned into the pool

of light beaming down on the counter to hand him his glass.
He staggered backward in disbelief until he bumped into the
bench. Losing his balance, he collapsed onto his coat.
“You’re….”

It can’t be! But it is. I know it is! That’s where I’ve seen

those eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Andy hustled from behind the

counter over to where he sat on the bench. “Are you okay?
Matt, what’s wrong?”

“You… you… you’re….” Matt struggled to comprehend

what he’d just realized.

“Oh, I get it now,” Andy said with an embarrassed

chuckle, holding a hand out to help Matt back to his feet.
“This doesn’t happen very often, but let me guess, was I by
any chance in a swimming suit the last time you saw me?”

The ability to speak had left Matt. All he could do was

nod back as he accepted the glass of wine Andy had
retrieved from the counter.

Swimsuit guy—I’m standing in swimsuit guy’s kitchen!

“St. Bart’s Hotties, was it?”

“Yep… St. Bart’s Hotties,” Matt mumbled back after

finding his voice.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Interesting thing about that shoot. Wait, take a sip.

You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Matt took a huge sip of his wine. “I can’t believe it. This

is  incredible!  I  was  on  the  St.  Bart’s  Hotties  site  minutes
before  you  showed  up  to  buy  your  tree.  Frickin’  spooky.  I
mean… good spooky.” Fucking lucky!

“Not sure if you’d be interested, but there’s a story

connected with that shoot.” Andy strolled back behind the
counter and sipped his wine.

“Sorry. I sort of freaked out there for a second. Please

tell me.” Matt was starting to relax again.

“Not a problem. I’d have freaked out too. I mean, what

are the odds?” Andy took another sip and smacked his lips.
“Say, I should be a good host and ask if you’re okay with the
wine. Is it going to work for you?”

“Oh, it’s great!” Matt sipped again and this time paid

attention to the wine. It was smooth and tasty.

“Well, first of all, the photos weren’t taken anywhere

near St. Barts. The client had a shoe string budget and the
shoot location was down in the Keys. The other thing, this is
funny  now  but  it  sure  wasn’t  at  the  time.  It  was  so  cold”—
Andy’s  body  appeared  to  shiver  at  the memory—“that  I  was
certain  my  nipples  would  look  like  Madonna’s  cones  on  the
contact sheet. I froze my ass off.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You look so… warm.” Matt

caught himself before he used the word hot.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“It was one of the worst experiences of my life. I caught

a really bad cold and ended up missing two other important
jobs. But, hey, I did my part. Wait! Did you like what you
saw?” Andy looked over with concern. “That’s the important
thing.”

“How could I not? Your body is incredible. There isn’t a

gay man on this earth that wouldn’t want to be in my shoes
right now.” Matt took another sip and felt his face flush at
his reckless comment. “I bet you’re going to tell me you’re
straight. I heard most of you guys are straight.”

“Oh hell no, nothing that awful. Gay, proud, and single,

here. How about you?”

“I think you know the answer to that one already,” Matt

said, still embarrassed he’d inadvertently advertised his
preference.

“That was kind of fun, actually. If you could’ve seen the

look  on  your  face.”  Andy  chuckled  and  then  stopped.  “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to poke fun at you. It’s just that I’ve only
been  recognized  a  few  times,  so  it’s  a  real  treat  when  it
happens. Here, I’ll grab the bottle and let’s go into the living
room. Are you in a hurry to be somewhere?”

Are you kidding me? Why would you leave heaven? No

one is going to believe this. Nobody!

“I was headed home to an empty apartment,” Matt

confessed, “and probably a movie I’ve already seen a million
times. No plans for tonight. Hey, how about you? I don’t
want to impose.”

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“No plans here, either.” Andy plopped his hand down on

Matt’s shoulder. “Why don’t you hang with me tonight.”

It’s a hand on your shoulder. Can you imagine if…? You

know you want to stay.

“That is, if you feel comfortable. I’d sure enjoy the

company.” Andy waited for Matt to respond.

“I’d like that very much.” Matt offered his empty glass

for Andy to fill.

What a sweet guy. Totally contrary to what I would have

expected  from  someone  with  a  body  like  his,  who  I  assume
has traveled the  world. Dude, you’re beautiful.  Matt followed
Andy into the living room.

“Would you mind if I started throwing some lights on

the tree? I have to be honest, decorating it is one of my
favorite things to do during the holidays. I’ve been waiting all
day for this.” Matt couldn’t help but notice Andy was stoked.

“Sure. Can I help?” Matt walked over to the box of

decorations to scope it out.

“Really? I’d love it if you helped.” Andy pulled out a

string  of  lights.  “I  like  to  wrap  these  around  a  few  of  the
individual  branches  to  make  sure  the  tree  doesn’t  look
skimpy.”

“Somebody taught me to make sure a few of the lights

are nestled deep into the tree for depth,” Matt advised and
then laughed. This is great: he’s picky, like me. “I’m kind of
into this too, sorry!”

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“No, that’s cool. I have a feeling this is going to turn out

to be the best tree I’ve ever had.”

Together they covered the tree with lights from top to

bottom, deciding together which branch would receive
special treatment.

Andy had a way about him that made Matt feel right at

home.  And  he  was  having  a  blast.  Never  in  his  wildest
dreams  would  he  have  thought  tonight  would  have  turned
out like it was.

“These ornaments are all so cool. Where did you get

them?” Matt admired a tiny little man steering a paper-thin
glass gondola.

“A couple of years ago, I started to collect ornaments

from all of the destinations my modeling career took me. It’s
fun and gives me an excuse to check out the local shopping
scene.”

When all the ornaments were in place, Andy brought

out a small stepladder from an adjacent room and placed a
naked male angel on the top of the tree.

“There, what do you think?” Andy asked, stepping down

from the ladder.

“He’s… it’s perfect. The tree is beautiful,” Matt was

overwhelmed by beauty—the tree, the angel, Andy.

“Ah, it does look great.” Andy stepped back to admire

their work. “Thank you for your help, Matt. Be right back.”

Andy replaced the ladder and returned beside him.

Please don’t let this evening end.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Um… Matt, can I talk you into at least one more glass

of wine?”

Matt felt Andy’s shoulder brush up against his own.

Something  special  was  happening.  He  felt  a  connection  to
Andy.  Matt  gulped  and  answered,  “Sure.  I’d  like  that.
Portugal,  is  that  where  you  said  this  wine  is  from?  It’s  so
good.”

“Yeah, Portugal. I was there, what else, on a shoot a few

years  ago.”  Andy  seemed  apologetic  for  the  fact  he  had
traveled  so  much.  “I  don’t  think  a  lot  of  people  know  that
about  Portugal.  They  produce  very  good,  affordable  wines
and they grow the cork for the bottles too. There’re cork trees
everywhere you look.”

Matt followed his host toward the kitchen. “Dopey me. I

thought  cork  came  from  the  ocean,”  Matt  replied  before
wishing  he  hadn’t.  But  it  was  true—he  had  thought  cork
came from the ocean.

Andy busted out laughing. “You’re not thinking about

sponges, are you?”

“That’s it! Sponges!” Matt laughed along with Andy.

“Are you hungry? I stopped on the way home from the

airport and picked up a few of my favorite indulgences. Give
me a minute to organize, and then let’s at least have one
more glass in front of the tree. You up for that?”

In the few seconds it took for Andy to cross from the

living  room  to  the  kitchen,  Matt  experienced  a  wave  of
uncertainty.  Could  he  allow  himself  to  relax  and  enjoy  his
time here? Was he being disrespectful to Emile? This  was a

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

sacred night, Christmas Eve. Not a night to be out entertaining
thoughts of… oh God, don’t go there. Get a hold of yourself.
You can let good things happen to you, dummy.

“Hey! You okay?” Andy had returned to his side. “Look,

I’m just going to say this. I’d love it if you hung around for a
while.  I’d  like  to  get  to  know  you  better.”  Andy  patted  Matt
on  the  shoulder  for  a  second  time,  his  hand  lingering  long
enough to produce a shiver of anticipation.

Emile… I want to stay. Please don’t be angry at me. I

really need this.

Matt had developed a habit over the past few months of

having discussions with Emile concerning a variety of topics.
Attempting to analyze his need for these imaginary chats, he
eventually came to the conclusion it was the beginning of the
end. It was an attempt to keep the memory of Emile alive
and real. It was time he started contemplating a replacement
who was alive and real.

“I’ll stay if you promise to open another bottle of wine.”

With the demons of doubt reconciled, Matt took a giant step
forward.

“Fantastic. Let’s see… your glass is empty, better do the

wine  first.”  Andy  selected  a  bottle  from  the  rack.  “Then  I’ll
load  up  a  tray  with  some  food,  and  we  can  park  our  butts
down by the tree.”

“Where’s your bathroom?” Matt had lost his bearings.

“Oh, follow me.”

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Matt followed Andy around the corner of the kitchen

and down a short hallway. “Eventually there will be a guest
bedroom across from this bathroom. Shout if you have
trouble finding your way back.”

When Matt returned to the kitchen, Andy had loaded a

tray up with a variety of munchies.

“That should do it. I also have a pizza we can throw in

the oven later if we feel like it. My turn for the bathroom, be
right back.”

Matt carried the wine with their glasses over to the

leather  club  chairs  Andy  had  scooted  up  to  the  tree.  “It’s
beginning  to  look  a  lot  like  Christmas,”  voices  sang  from
speakers somewhere nearby. Matt giggled. “Yes, it is.”

hat was that all about? Matt seemed a million miles
away. Maybe he’s got a boyfriend. He wouldn’t stay
if he didn’t want to. If he seems uncomfortable, I’m
going to ask. Maybe I can help.

Returning to the kitchen, Andy grabbed the tray and

joined Matt by the tree. “You tired of Christmas music yet?”
Earlier he had turned on a mixed set of his holiday favorites.

“Not at all. I’m usually buzzing around so much, I

hardly ever get to just sit and enjoy it.”

Oh good, he seems okay now.

“I know what we need.” Andy walked over to the mantel

of the fireplace and picked up a remote. A fire leaped into

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

action. “There, I knew I’d forgotten something. I’m so happy
you’re  here.  I  hate  spending  the  holidays  alone,  but  that’s
the way it’s been for several years now. I like making money,
living  comfortably,  and  to  some  extent,  the  travel.  But
honestly, I can’t wait for the next phase in my life to begin so
I  can  start  growing  roots  like  everyone  else  does.”  Andy
stopped short of including Matt on his wish list.

“Whew! I thought you were going to say you wanted to

accumulate huge debt and let yourself go,” Matt said with a
wink.

“Let myself go?” Andy tossed his head back and

laughed. “You know sometimes I fantasize about doing that.
But I’m too vain. And I’m too used to eating what it takes to
keep in shape. Tonight is a rare exception when I kick back
and throw all the rules right out the window.”

“Where did you grow up?” Matt asked when he had

returned to his chair.

“Northern Minnesota.” Andy picked up a cracker and

topped it with a piece of cheese. “I moved to the Twin Cities
seconds  after  I  graduated  from  high  school.  It  was  messy.”
You might as well tell it like it was. “To make a long story still
long,  I  come  from  a  strict  Baptist  family.  When  I  finally
figured  out  who  I  was,  I  took  a  chance  and  came  out  to
them. I was sixteen at the time. Big mistake. I think in their
eyes I died that day. After my father beat the living daylights
out  of  me,  he  threw  me  out  of  the  house.  My  mom  did
nothing  to  stop  him.  I’m  pretty  sure  she  thought  he  was
right.  I  ended  up  living  with  an  aunt  who,  I  think,  only
offered to put me up for the free labor she managed to guilt

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

out of me. It was hell. I haven’t spoken to anyone in my
family for years, including my sister. We used to be so close.”
The separation still stung.

“I’m so sorry,” Matt replied softly.

“Don’t be. I’m not. I think coming from such a vile

environment has made me who I am today. And you know
what?” Andy perked up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty damn happy without them.” Not the best time

to  start  lying.  You’re  lonely,  dude.  It  wouldn’t  be  the  worse
thing  in  the  world  to  admit  this.  “Someday  soon  I  hope  to
have a replacement for them in my life. I’m still working on
that  one.”  Andy  wasn’t  sure  what  else  to  say.  They  sat  in
silence for a few moments.

“Hey! Enough about me. What’s your story, Matt?” Andy

sat back and crossed his legs.

Matt looked away and sipped his wine. A lush, beautiful

orchestration  of  “Silent  Night”  played  in  the  background.
Seconds  passed,  and  Matt  still  hadn’t  answered  or
acknowledged his question.

“Matt….” Andy uncrossed his legs and leaned toward his

guest.

“The holidays are difficult for me,” Matt began.

Andy listened, barely able to breathe as Matt told the

story of his precious Emile and the details of his tragic
death.

Emile was his lover. Emile… oh God, no wonder.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

His heart ached for the love Matt and Emile shared and

lost.  Even  now,  after  a  year,  Matt’s  voice  was  laden  with
sadness,  a  testament  to  the  powerful  bond  the  two  of  them
must  have  enjoyed.  Andy  wrestled  with  his  own  emotions
each time Matt’s voice cracked. When he had finished, they
sat  in  silence—the  large  flakes  falling  gracefully  outside  the
bank of windows.

Ask him.

“Matt?” Andy slid off his chair and kneeled. “Would you

let me hold you?”

His eyes connected with Matt’s for only a second before

Matt  nodded,  his  lower  lip  quivering.  Andy  took  him  by  the
arm and brought him down onto the rug. Huge sobs erupted
as  Andy  scooted  behind  so  he  could  envelop  Matt  in  his
arms.

“I’m in no rush,” Andy whispered when he had his arms

wrapped tight around Matt’s chest. “I can hold you all night
if you’d like.”

When Matt had regained control of himself, Andy

nestled his chin on his shoulder, and before he knew what
he was doing, his lips brushed Matt’s neck with a soft kiss.
He waited for Matt to respond.

Try it again.

Andy planted another kiss on Matt’s neck, this one

intentional. Matt responded by tilting his head back with his
eyes closed, as if savoring Andy’s advances.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Andy whispered into his

ear. Andy let several seconds pass before he planted another
exploratory kiss.

att  had  no  idea  how  much  he’d  missed  another
man’s hands on his body. He responded to Andy’s
kiss  by  moving  up  and  out  of  his  arms.  Turning
around,  Matt  cupped  the  back  of  Andy’s  head
bringing him forward until their lips met.

Emile….

Matt fought off an urge to laugh. He caught himself

before Emile turned this wonderful moment with Andy into a
freaky three-way. “How far do you want this to go?” he
asked, staring into Andy’s eyes.

“Well, I’d like to shoot for the bedroom tonight, and after

that, to the moon and back,” Andy purred, his eyes
twinkling. “Is that what you want too?”

Matt moved in for another kiss. “Yes.” Andy tasted so

good,  his  lips  full  and  inviting.  Matt’s  tongue  taunted  and
teased.  Andy  eagerly  played  along.  Soon,  hands  were
involved,  caressing and  exploring  until Matt  felt  Andy  begin
to manipulate the button of his jeans.

“I could use a shower, if you have one,” Matt said when

their lips parted.

“Would you settle for a sponge bath in the laundry tub?”

“Huh?” Matt wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Come with me, smelly boy.” Andy grabbed Matt by the

hand, leading him past the kitchen, down the hall, and into
the master bedroom.

“Wow! This is incredible.” Matt couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Thanks! It’s the first room I finished after moving in. I

couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in the middle of a
home-remodeling project. This way!” Andy led Matt through
the bedroom and into the master bath. “Will this do the
trick?”

“Absolutely! It’s like staying at the Wynn.” Matt was

bowled over by how opulent and lavish Andy’s bedroom and
bath were in comparison to the rest of the loft. This man
could never be allowed to see his ramshackle apartment.

“This is the second room I did after moving in. Now,

come here.”

Matt took a few tentative steps toward Andy.

Andy took both of Matt’s hands and placed them around

his waist. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Matt answered, embarrassed by the special

attention Andy was giving him.

Where is this going? Do I care?

“Am I the first man you’ve been with since Emile?”

Andy’s beautiful eyes searched into his own.

“You are.”

“I’m so honored. Matt… let’s see… how to say this and

not sound like a moron…. I’d like to try and make tonight

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

special,  if  you’ll  permit  me.  Let’s  see…  I’d  like  to  dedicate
tonight to you and… well, a new beginning. I don’t believe for
a minute I could take Emile’s place. I wouldn’t want to. But
maybe  tonight  can  be  a  new  beginning  for  us.  Is  that
possible? Gosh, I’m doing a lot of talking here.”

“I like your idea. I’m enjoying being with you very much.

It feels… it feels right.” It felt better than right, it felt
extraordinary.

“It does, it really does.” Andy hugged him tight.

tarting first by removing his shirt, Andy slowly
stripped Matt until he stood naked on the warm tiled
floor.

“You’re so hot, Matt.” Andy stripped himself, his

clothes heaped in a pile at his feet. “Let me know if you start
to feel uncomfortable.” He brushed his fingers across Matt’s
cheek. “This can go any direction you’d like it to. Tonight is
all about you.”

Once more he reached for Matt’s arms, putting them

around his waist. Parting his legs, he allowed Matt’s cock to
slide  between  them  and  then  clenched  them  back  together,
holding  his  guest  captive.  Reaching  forward,  he  brought
Matt’s  face  toward  his,  planting  warm  soft  kisses  on  his
eyelids and neck until his tongue met up with Matt’s mouth.
Minutes  passed  as  they  swayed  from  side  to  side,  sharing
deep  kisses.  Pulling  away,  Andy  noticed  his  dripping  cock
had  painted  up  a  good  portion  of  Matt’s  muscled  stomach.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Stepping  out  of  their  embrace,  he  turned  on  the  shower.
Reaching  for  Matt’s hand,  Andy  felt  resistance  as  he  took  a
step forward.

“What’s wrong? You can talk to me.” Andy needed to

know Matt was a willing participant or this wasn’t going to
work.

“It’s been a long time. I might not last too long,” Matt

confessed.

“No worries. For me this is already a night to remember.

Besides, I don’t recall you saying you were in a rush to be
anywhere tonight. I’m all about the slow and easy.”

“Slow and easy….” Matt smiled.

Andy stepped into the shower, pulling Matt along with

him. Grabbing a bar of soap off the ledge, he began to skate
it  across  Matt’s  skin.  Methodically,  he  visited  every  inch  of
Matt’s  rock-hard  body.  He  stroked  and  teased,  more  than
once bringing Matt very close to the finish line.

“I’m so close.”

“You think you are, baby. Relax, I’m just getting

started.”

When all the suds were rinsed out of Matt’s hair, Andy

stepped out of the shower and held open a large bath towel.
Matt stepped into it. Wrapped together in the lush towel, he
held Matt. Moments passed without either of them moving or
saying anything.

“You enjoying this?” Andy asked, brushing the towel up

and down Matt one last time.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“More than you could ever know.”

Andy dropped the towel, scooped Matt into his arms,

and placed him on the center of the bed. Moving around the
room, he lit candles, dimmed the lights, and then crawled
onto the bed.

feel wonderful,” Matt gushed, cranking his head back
to meet Andy’s eyes. “Thank you. I had no idea how
much I needed to be with someone.”

“I have a confession to make.” Andy’s body spooned

him, and Matt closed his eyes when a warm hand took hold
of his cock and held it. Andy squeezed, off and on, while at
the same time planting dozens of soft, gentle kisses behind
his ear.

“What’s… what’s your confession?” Matt was unable to

keep his voice steady, his body reacting to the gentle grip
Andy had on him.

“I had no idea how much I needed this either. It’s been a

while for me too.”

Several seconds passed.

Andy buried his head in Matt’s neck. “What are you

thinking?”

Matt knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure how to

ask for it.

“I

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

I need to feel you inside of me. I miss that feeling more

than I can explain.

Matt reached behind and quickly found what he was

looking for. Arching forward, he guided Andy into place.

“I’ll be there in a moment, babe. I promise.” Andy licked

his ear.

He felt Andy’s body move away and then heard plastic

being ripped, a sound he’d almost forgotten. More soft kisses
dampened  the  back  of  his  neck.  Andy  placed  a  finger  on
Matt’s  mouth.  The  finger  probed  and  pried,  until  it  parted
Matt’s lips and slowly slid inside. Matt sucked on the warm,
thick finger. It tasted sweet. It slid in and out of his mouth
several  times  and  then  it  was  gone.  Surprising  him,  the
warm, moist finger soon found another home.

“Oh yes…,” Matt moaned as Andy expertly prepared him

for his cock.

I’ve waited long enough for this, haven’t I, Emile?

Andy reached forward with his free hand and cupped

Matt’s  forehead,  pulling  him  backward  until  his  body  was
arched,  taut  and  ready.  Matt  lost  himself  in  Andy’s  warm
kisses, and before he knew what was happening, felt Andy’s
swollen cock begin its slow glide into his body. Matt tensed,
and  Andy  reacted  by  pausing.  Hands  caressed  Matt’s  chest
and  arms.  Again  Matt  felt  Andy  push  forward.  Again  he
tensed, and Andy paused.

I want more.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

Without being told, Andy closed the gap, and Matt felt

the warmth of Andy’s groin pressing against his butt. He felt
Andy’s  teeth  tease  and  nibble  his  ear,  causing  a  shiver  to
rocket  throughout  his  body.  Matt  could  feel  Andy  pulsating
deep  inside.  More  kisses,  and  then,  with  his  strong  arms
wrapped  around  Matt’s  chest,  Andy  began  to  slowly  pump
back and forth.

“Yes!” Matt begged, another shiver of pleasure jolting

him.

Andy quickened the pace. Matt reached behind to rest

his hand on Andy’s muscular hip, a move he’d perfected long
ago with Emile. Matt felt Andy’s strength as he began to
make long, slow thrusts in and out.

I never thought it would ever feel so good again.

Matt whimpered, unable to maintain control.

Andy growled behind him and picked up the pace. The

bed began to rock back and forth. Matt reached for a pillow
and buried his head in the soft, sweet-smelling fabric. Andy
pulled Matt’s head back and held it firmly against his chest.
He stroked Matt’s cock with his free hand, working the thick
shaft  from  top  to  bottom.  Matt  felt  Andy’s  muscled  ass
contract,  pounding  him  rhythmically.  Dripping  with  pre-
cum,  the  full  length  of  Matt’s  cock  glided  effortlessly  in
Andy’s large hand.

“Oh… oh… I’m so close,” Matt hollered out. “Oh yes….”

Seconds later, his body tensed. Matt yelped as his cock

unloaded into the air. Andy was merciless as he stroked him
clean of every last drop. He twisted and turned, but Andy’s

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

grip was too powerful to escape. His body rocked and shook
as he weathered one of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever
experienced.

Andy had slowed his assault, or at least Matt had lost

track  of  that  part  of  the  action  while  his  body  had  been
short-circuiting.  Bending  him  forward  with  his  powerful
arms, Andy pummeled him with several strong, full thrusts.

“I’m coming,” Andy roared from behind.

Matt felt Andy’s body shake and quiver, his grip

tightening, bringing Matt up hard against his chest.

“Oh… oh… oh yeah!” Andy jolted from side to side,

clenching and unclenching Matt in the process. It took
minutes for the strong man behind him to calm.

His body dripping with sweat, Matt was dazed. He was

spent.

Minutes later, he became aware of Andy’s labored

breathing behind his ear, his long, thick cock still buried to
the root deep inside of him.

“We’ll… work… on this,” Andy promised between

breaths. “It’ll… get better… not to worry.”

Giddy with satisfaction, Matt began to giggle. Giggles

turned into full-fledged belly laughs, and soon, Andy was
forced to pull out, clutching his stomach, laughing joyously.

After a serious cuddle-and-tease session, it was back to

the shower to clean up. They spent the rest of the evening in
plush robes in front of the tree, watching the snow fall and
stuffing themselves on pizza.

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Andy asked with a

mouthful of crust.

“I’m due over at my aunt and uncle’s at noon. Why?”

Matt wiped pizza sauce off of Andy’s chin.

“Just wondering, that’s all.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Matt stuck a chocolate

covered cherry into his mouth.

“I’ll be here. Missing you.” Andy launched a huge,

exaggerated sigh.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow?” Matt was

surprised.

“Sad, isn’t it?”

“You’re coming with me. My family would love to meet

you.” Matt reached for a slice of pizza.

“Matt, that’s not necessary. It’s important you spend

time with your family. I’m a big boy.”

“You’re a very big boy, but that’s not the point. My

family would love for you to join us. That’s the way they are.”
Matt gave Andy’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I don’t know… I’d probably sit there smiling like a dope,

watching a healthy family interact. So rare. They’d think I
was some kind of an idiot.”

“Andy, it’s been a long time since my family has

associated  me  with  a  smile  of  any  kind.  Besides,  they’re  all
goofy  dopes.  And  the  food,  trust  me,  is  worth  showing  up
for.”

Jolly Old St. Barts • Joel Skelton

“Well, let me think about it.”

Hoping for maximum persuasion, Matt leaned in to

plant a kiss on Andy’s cheek. “Have you come to a decision
yet?”

“Oh yeah… I’m there!”

Merry Christmas, Emile. I’ll never forget you, promise.

About the Author

OEL

KELTON

lives with his partner in the thriving

Minnesota arts community commonly referred to as the Twin
Cities. Writing is the latest destination in the author’s tour of
the  arts.  When  he’s  not  writing,  scamming  on  a  character,
creating  a  chapter  outline,  or  editing  a  portion  of  his
manuscript  on  the  bus  in  and  out  of  the  city,  he’s  playing
law  firm—a  whacky,  highly  entertaining  way  to  put  food  on
the table.

Visit his website at

http://www.joelskelton.com

More Daily Dose

and Advent Calendar packages

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Paul Richmond

http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com

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Released in the United States of America
December 2011

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-292-3

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