We flew in and deplaned. We were then were treated like The Rolling Stones On Tour, and were delivered, once again, to a helipad.
Thirteen minutes later we were deposited on the inland side of the top floor of a breathtaking structure, built into the side of what looked like a volcano, with an enormous eight-story chalet sporting huge arched polished black granite porticos, surrounded by vast cobblestone terraces on each of the lower six floors, with waterfalls and fountains in at least two dozen different places. There wasn't one other building, home, or thatched hut as far as the eye could see on this side of the mountain.
Images created of The Hanging Gardens Of Babylon have absolutely "zip" on this place! How in the world does an elegant palace in such a remote location, have running water, draping Carolina jasmine, exploding wisteria, and enormous cascading junipers to die for? Some "little place in Turks and Caicos?" I thought.
I am a very good judge of character and inclinations in the average citizen. I have to be to interpret my clients' wishes and desires, then turn them into reality. A few slip through my radar, but by and large, I generally tend to be spot on.
Yet something very odd happened as we touched down on the helipad cut out of the side of the plunging slope. Charles, Lars, and Drake relaxed, visibly.
"Gentlemen, thank you. You are all free to pursue your own interests.
Top-notch job. Thank you all! The local crew can take over from here."
The three of them exchanged quick shoulder and neck grabs, like football players might, following a hard fought touchdown. Lars and Drake even leaned into one another, their foreheads touching gently. Who knew?
Certainly not me... three tall, broad, serious, masculine, stoic, impersonal, distant, yet very obviously close men, all turned rather gay, at once. I had to think about it for a bit before I put the pieces together. What a simple, unexpected lesson. I, of all people, should have known better. They all three loved each other deeply, and it was now so astonishingly apparent. All the intense eye contact suddenly took on a whole new meaning.
Who knew?
As we stepped off the helicopter, I could smell the salt from the sea mixed with jasmine and gardenia. Three very dark skinned, strikingly handsome men in matching, crisply tailored white linen boxed shirts, shorts, and sandals were assisting us one by one, handling the bags and briefcases. They looked like triplets. Their legs alone made me swoon. If I haven't mentioned it, I'm a butt and leg man. And this was definitely eye candy!
Our entourage filtered into the towering white tile roofed portico, complete with its own cascading waterfall and coy pond. As we passed behind the twenty-foot wall of water, we came to what looked like an ancient, but well preserved, lacquered timber Tibetan temple door. Kent turned to me.
"Aaron, allow me to introduce Martin, Miles, and Merrick." As each name was spoken, a head nodded as each man bowed ever so slightly. And those legs! My God! Those legs!
The temple doors slid to the right and left simultaneously, disappearing into the stone walls, soundlessly. A gleaming, wall-to-wall, floor to ceiling mirrored room came into view. In each corner stood huge weeping ficus trees. The ceiling was an opaque frosted skylight.
Kent swept his left hand toward the open room. I stepped in as Charles, Lars, Drake, Martin, Miles, Merrick, and finally, Kent moved into the space. As the doors closed silently, Martin pressed a code into a miniature hand held device attached to his wrist. We were completely surrounded with mirrors, which made the space seem enormous. Instead of it appearing to be eight of us, it looked more like a hundred or more. I could barely detect that we were descending. When the doors opened again, I inhaled deeply, trying not to appear nearly as astonished as I was. My God!
It looked as if we were cantilevered over the ocean itself. Rock and glass wrapped the entirety of the room. I was speechless. The décor was an exquisite mixture of mid-century modern, high contemporary, Asian, and Mediterranean. The effect was stunning.
As everyone stepped out of the elevator, Kent led us to an open set of sliding glass doors. Five white linen-draped tables under matching white canvas umbrellas on the terrace were heavily laden with freshly cut vegetables, fruits, meats, breads, and pastries, with incredible tropical floral and fauna arrangements disguising each ones' center support pole. It appeared to be a feast prepared for royalty.
"Welcome to my oasis. Please feel free to eat, drink, freshen up, or take a nap. Dinner will be served on the fourth floor at sundown, or approximately five-ten. It is four-fifteen now, so until then, enjoy!" Dinner will be served at sundown? What was this? Heavy hors d' orves? We had made it here in just under four hours. Must have been that sleek black jet...
Kent slipped his hand around my waist and ushered me toward the elevator. Martin accompanied us through the doors. As we descended, Kent kissed me. I could get used to this...
According to the elevator's display panel, we descended to the ground floor. I would later learn how misguided I was. Nonetheless, the doors whispered open and it was as similarly a breathtaking experience```````````````````` as it was on the sixth floor.
"Everything is in order, sir. I bid adieu." With that, Martin vanished behind the doors.
"You said you have only been involved with two men. Care to explain all those Chippendales?" God I love it when he cracks up!!
Within seconds we were in a full embrace, disassembling the garments we had both been wearing up to this point.
"My staff has been personally hand selected. Have I exchanged bodily fluids with any of them? No. Do I lust a bit? Yes. Is it one of the reasons they were selected? You be the judge. Why have power, without taste?"
How does one argue with a man whose argument is inarguable? Instead, I pulled him onto the hugely oversized chaise overlooking the Caribbean Sea during a particularly captivating setting of the sun. It wasn't long before we arrived together, for the fourth time, since early this morning, a scant twelve hours ago.
Dinner was an eye opening experience. Charles, Lars, and Drake set the tone as they swayed and danced like a trio of seasoned professionals trained as a synchronized group, before we all took our places for the first course. Had I not know better, one might have thought of it as a floorshow. Now that my eyes had been skinned, I saw it for what it was. They loved one another.
The three M's were now on duty, and the boy's could relax, which they did. After Charles kissed Lars affectionately, he looked over at me. Drake nuzzled Charles' neck from the other side. It caused my persistent chub to swell a bit. I would have enjoyed seeing a bit more, but alas.
"Gentlemen, allow me to thank you once again for your discretion. Your devotion will not go unrewarded. Aaron, is there anything you want to know, now that you more fully understand the reality of our little subterfuge?"
"Subterfuge? As in "bluff, stratagem, hoax, or trick?"
"My, my, aren't you the walking Thesaurus?" said Lars. Kent howled.
"I write a great deal, and blame my vocabulary on my mother."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"If ever we questioned or argued any point, word, or assumption, we had to look it up in the World Book Encyclopedia or Webster's Dictionary. Both were staples at the dinner table."
Charles, Drake, and Lars all nodded as if impressed by my response. I soooo wanted to see them naked and deeply involved with one another, but I managed to smile politely.
"Are any of you related to one another?"
Charles said, "No."
"Can I watch?" Kent cracked up yet again.
Charles smiled, Drake blushed, and Lars raised his devastatingly arched eyebrow.
(Do you now own my work? It's cool if so, but I may need to reconsider, if I don't have some say. Nonetheless, thank you for publishing me.) This has been tremendous fun!! Ken