Chapter 6: A Hunk, a Hoke, a Burnin' Love

We turned off Collins onto Ocean Drive and I got my first look at the infamous South Beach. The first glimpse of the Art Deco buildings stunned me. Julie told me there was more of this type architecture along Ocean Drive than anywhere else in the world and that historic preservation thrives in South Beach.

There were cantilevered eyebrow ledges jutting out over windows, and terrazzo patterns outlining hotel lobby floors. Streamlined corners and porthole windows seem as if they'd make more sense on an ocean liner than a building, still it worked for me. Add in the ziggurated doorways and Mayan doodads, and South Beach embodies an area extending an open invitation to a great time of fantasy and fun.

We toured the area in Julie's car. It took about thirty minutes, primarily because of the gridlock of double-parked cars and pedestrians in the streets. Most of the action seemed to take place on four streets - Ocean Drive, Lincoln Road, Collins and Washington Avenues - each of which is packed with sidewalk restaurants and contemporary art galleries, artists, models, arty boutiques and design shops. Julie kept up a running commentary as she wove her way through the melange all around us.

"There's the ballet," Julie said, "and over there to the left a couple of art movie houses, you'd love watching the movies and the patrons." She gave my thigh a squeeze, but quickly returned her concentration to driving.

"Here's the symphony," she rambled on, "and check the gaudy signs, there are literally dozens of trendy nightclubs owned by celebrities along these streets."

As we passed by Loews Miami Beach, which Julie informed me, was an 830-room convention center in the heart of the Art Deco district I ran my fingernails along her thigh and onto her mound. She shivered and tapped the brakes. It was warning enough to quit fooling around, for the moment.

I concentrated my attention on the buildings we were passing. I had expected low-rise structures and while there were many of them, I was surprised at the number of residential towers rising high into the sky.

Well South Beach is urban all right, but it's a tropical urban(with the beach always only a block or two away. After turning the car over to a handsome, but obviously gay attendant, we sat relaxing in one of the many sidewalk cafes along Ocean Drive, gazing out at the green park and the ocean beyond. And sipped tropical drinks while watching the zanies stroll by. Girls AND guys skated past wearing the flimsiest thong bikinis. I realized that here in South Beach you have the best of all worlds(the 24 hour buzz and sophisticated culture of an entirely au courant first-world metropolis(combined with immaculate beauty and the timeless tranquillity of beach culture. It's almost impossible not have a quick romp in the sand, dress shoes and all. Well how was I to know? Julie quietly removed her sandals. After stumbling once, I followed suit. I made a mental note that I could never live here, too many distractions. Pleasant, handsome, winsome attractions at that. Eventually we moved on to dinner at Shula's on the Beach. Shula's offers great steaks with an unbelievable view. We had ours with a wonderful Cabernet on a beautiful outdoor patio overlooking the ocean. Feeling quite full of food, wine and ourselves, we set out to explore the nightspots of Lauderdale/Miami. Object: Find two guys. Fuck their brains out. What the hell, one must set goals for one's self in this life. We decided to use the "kiss" method to achieve this one.

It was a mild 85 degrees according to the radio as we doubled back to South Beach where the nightlife simply amazed me. It's kinda like going to a fashion show where the runway is the main street and car lights double as flash strobes on a thousand cameras.

The clubs (virtually invisible during the daylight hours) come to life as the sun sets and the neon springs to life like a virus(one second it doesn't exist, the next it's everywhere. Clubs line Washington Avenue with quite a few more spilling over onto Ocean Drive. Traffic is the only annoying thing about this art deco fantasy world. There are clubs to suit any taste in music. Ranging from R&B, to house, to hip-hop, to salsa, to reggae, the jammin' never stops and you can easily go from club to club, although some clubs are a little harder to get into than others.

We settled into a place called Polly Esther's. Evidently Polly Esther's is a chain, with its music built on the cultural hits of the '70's and 80's. Amii Stewart's version of "Knock on Wood," and Heat Wave's "Boogie Nights" were the first numbers I heard playing. Later came a number of interchangeable hits by K.C. and the Sunshine Band. It was Ladies Night and drinks were 2 for the price of 1. Just what we needed. Martini's for lunch, wine with dinner and now 2 for 1 on the tropical drinks. And gasp! They weren't watered down. Full strength! Ughh! An auspicious beginning to our evening out.

Julie and I laughingly agreed we'd landed in the middle of Saturday Night Fever; and that they had an authentic-looking dance floor, just like the one in the blockbuster movie. But music wasn't everything here: Our waitress proved to be exceptional in demonstrating the hula-hoop. Who knew what else was in store for us?

I drained the last of my first tropical drink and took a leisurely glimpse of my surroundings. The club's décor was mostly a collection of '70s remnants that just as well might be in a display case at the Smithsonian's Museum of American History. A ledge above the front bar was lined with lunch boxes and board games that few who lived through that time would actually care to remember. A mural of magazine covers - Tiger Beat with David Cassidy, Playboy with Jimmy Connors' future wife, Patty Maguire - stretched from the entrance to the Saturday Night Fever-style dance floor. And around the corner, past the dance floor, is the club's ultimate display of pseudokitsch: a Kiss collage.

The bar was crowded, but only one interesting looking guy sat there nursing a beer and eating peanuts. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt, no tan, kinky blond hair, Nordic features. Probably just a few hours off the plane, taking his Michigan flesh down to Miami to blister it. I called Julie's attention to him and she said, "Hmmm. Its early, but then again, it's never to early for what we want, is it Rach?"

"When you're right you're right Julie my love."

"Perhaps he has a friend for you," she teased, and I cuffed her arm in a playful manner.

She reached out, laid her hand on my upper leg and stage whispered, "Let's investigate the gentleman properly my love."

The excitement of our former male stalking returned. I became moist thinking of the possibilities.

"Wait a sec.," I said, preventing Julie from rising. He's got a terrific looking bod, but what do you really think of him?"

I disguised that remark by adding, "I mean, how old do you think he is?"

"Maybe twenty-five to thirty," Julie said confidently.

"He seems to be alone, don't we want two?"

She gave me a lewd smile and her eyes sparkled. "Three sounds good to me."

"Well okay, let's give it a shot." And we both started to get up. I quickly sat down.

"Julie, I'm a little rusty at picking guys up. Maybe..."

"Rachel, it's like riding a bike, come on. Follow my lead."

Julie took the hook. She'd be the one with the come on. I could hold back, make a quick retreat should it become necessary. It also served to make me a little more desirable in his eyes. A little standoffish, I became the more challenging conquest. And when we got to fucking, he'd be saving his best for me. As we approached him, my eyes caressed his body, especially his tight ass. Julie managed to brush a breast against him as she leaned towards the bar.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gushed.

"Oh I beg your pardon," he replied. "Here, let me make room for you."

With that he maneuvered his stool tightly against the one to his left, pinning that gentleman in for the duration.

Julie, using her most seductive voice, thanked him profusely, making him appear to be the most gallant guy since Sir Walter Raleigh. He actually stammered nervously after her complements.

"This is my friend Rachel," she said. "Rachel's from Minneapolis, just visiting me for a few days. I live in Ft. Lauderdale." She paused for a moment then added, "My name is Julie. I'm a real blonde."

His knee-jerk reaction to this opening gambit caused him to knock over his drink. The bartender mercifully wiped it up quickly and efficiently and fixed him another.

I placed my hand over his and told him I was glad to make his acquaintance. Up close I saw that he was indeed ruggedly handsome and very well built.

He smiled at the two of us. It was an engaging smile with a host of hidden messages.

"This must be my lucky day. Please forgive me ladies, my name is Holcomb, Holcomb Lamb III if you're interested in the whole thing. But my friends... I hope I can call you my friends, call me Hoke.

This time I took the lead. "Actually, Holcomb, err, Hoke, we were wondering... it's so noisy in here, would you like to join us for a drink somewhere quieter?"

"Someplace more private might be preferable," added Julie.

His smile grew more radiant, and his eyes shone with a newfound lust.

"And would you ladies have a place in mind?" he said in that husky voice men acquire after a few drinks. He continued. "If not I could suggest one."

Julie solved the dilemma. "My place would be preferable if that's not an inconvenience."

"Your place it is. Shall we take one car or two?"

"Oh, said Julie, why don't you follow us?"

We parked the cars in Julie's garage and Hoke put his muscular arms around both of us as we walked to the elevator. As the door closed Julie leaned into Hoke's mouth and kissed him. I watched them, envious and happy for them at the same time. I told myself to be patient, my turn would come and eventually it did. Their kiss was long and slow. Open mouthed from the outset, I saw his tongue slide between her lips, sucked into Julie's mouth, a sensation I knew all too well. The cavity exploration had begun. She was equal to his kiss. She wound her arms tighter around his shoulders and dug her nails into his back, almost tearing through his shirt.

Finally they parted and Hoke looked and reached for me at the same time. I pressed the stop button and the elevator paused between floors, then Hoke and I embraced. Finally, I felt his lips touched mine. Just touching, patiently lingering, it was as if time had stopped. My mouth opened and our tongues touched. Slowly, softly, the velvet tip of his tongue began circling mine. I surrendered to him, pressing myself hard against his solid body, laving my tongue back and forth across his while releasing a subdued sigh, revealing my increasing desire to have him enter me. Abruptly severing the kiss, Hoke was looking into my eyes as they opened, and said, "Ah, you liked that, didn't you. Well let's continue, shall we?" He pulled my head close to find my open mouth eagerly awaiting his. He sucked upon my lower lip, eventually moving to the upper lip. Then two tongues were dueling frantically. Tongues explored teeth and gums. We swallowed each other's saliva and teeth clashed against teeth as our passion began to seethe. I inhaled his smell, a mix of musk, sweat and sex and achieved a high state of arousal. Relentlessly, his tongue probed the inner recesses of my open neckline. No doubt Hoke could feel my pulse racing, as he tenderly kissed the inner recesses of my neck. Julie's hand reached under my dress and wove its way up my thighs. I moved my legs apart and her fingers found me. Hoke moaned and I realized Julie 's other hand now held his cock firmly in her grip.