Summer's Choice

an excerpt


He still felt like he needed to be pinched back to reality, because quite simply, magical days like today just didn't happen...not to him. It was the most unexpected development of this eventful summer, and while there was no way he could have predicted its outcome, he sure liked it.

Summer Wilson was getting married.


It was Labor Day, what many considered to be the official conclusion to summer.

Funny, here was summer ending but the man named Summer, he felt like his life was just beginning. New seasons awaited him, full of love and opportunity, forever nights of passion. Yes, in just a few short hours, he would exchange vows with the man he had found, a man whom he had fallen madly in love with, made even more crazy by the fact that he hadn't been looking for commitment. Rather, he'd merely been running from a life that had been chosen for him, one he'd never have wanted on a bet. Sure, he could have done as was expected, taken the high paying job and lived in that rarefied, moneyed world his parents did, but to do so would mean he'd be walking around without a smile on his face, and as his best friend and best man Tanner said, his blond locks looked better when heightened, highlighted, by his gleaming, toothy grin.

"Your parents paid to have them so pearly white, why not show the world?"

"Before this summer, I wouldn't have thought it possible. I mean, me, happy."

"It's probably more because he's great in bed, right?" Tanner had said, just last night at the tail end of the impromptu, video-filled bachelor party he'd thrown. Lots of drinks while they watched guys with big dicks and buff, hairy bodies, fuck each other in any and all positions and get off with lots of gooey money shots. Watching one guy unload thick juices all over some guy's dark chest blanket, Tanner had turned to his friend.

"Come on, tell me, is he bigger than me? Few men are, you know."

"As if you would let me forget." He paused. "And I'm not answering that question."

Tanner Fox had been knocking back tequila shots all that night, so he wasn't feeling any pain or modesty. Not that he ever held back, he could be sober as a county judge and he'd still be embarrassingly honest about the considerable size of his package. It was one of the reasons the more straight-laced Summer Wilson kept him around--Tanner was entertaining, and truth be told, it was at his friend's prompting that this entire adventure had begun. Memorial Day...had it really been just three months ago, where a lonely, frustrated Summer Wilson, resigned to his fate, suddenly threw caution to the wind?

He'd thrown away a good job.

He'd thrown away an inheritance.

He'd perhaps lost his parents' respect.

But what he'd found was himself. And the freedom to love whom he chose.

Right now he was hidden away in the upstairs bedroom of the family's lake house named Aubergine, itself situated along the quiet banks of Windsheer Lake at the westernmost edge of the Finger Lakes region of Upstate New York. He'd come here on a sort of personal retreat just days after throwing away all the promise of his newly acquired Princeton degree. He'd done so with great impulse, but to this day and for the rest of his life he knew he wouldn't regret any decision he'd made, or anything that had happened. Sometimes regret was a great teacher.

At the moment, he still had a towel wrapped around his waist, having just emerged from the shower. In the floor-length mirror he stole a look at himself. He was in great shape, his legs strong and his arms thick with muscle; his pecs were perfectly shaped, with a smooth chest. His face was freshly scraped of stubble. His wavy blond good-looks stared back at him. He was fit, tanned, and happy, two of which he hadn't been at the start of the season.

His name might be Summer, but it was one born of irony. He'd heard the story from his mother, Marilyn, many times, usually told on his birthday with a crackling fire burning in the background. The middle of January, the 13th actually, and Marilyn would have her story ready for just after her son had blown out his candles and sent out a silent wish. With her husband, his father, the imperious, moneyed Danton Wilson listening from his wing-back chair, she would regale her son with the legendary tale of the winter storm when she'd gone into labor, how she didn't want him to be saddled with such a cold memory at birth, and so she had, when seeing his nearly blue fingers, decided to toss out the original name of Frederick in favor of Summer.

A ringing sound from downstairs shook him from his reverie.

Today was not one to remember birthdays, this was the day he would come to know as his anniversary. The arrival of guests--really, just a small gathering--downstairs meant he had better finish getting ready. Vows were to be exchanged on the dock outside under a blazing hot sky, a sun-dappled kiss to be exchanged to seal their future, the meaning of the rings on their fingers as endless as the ripples of the water. As he went for his tuxedo that was hanging on the back of the door, he heard a knock on the other side.

"Who is it?"


"Come on in," Summer said, feeling his nerves heighten.

The moment he saw the deflated expression on his friend's face, Summer's smile left him. Tanner was a guy who wore his big personality on his sleeve. He was notoriously short, just five seven, but he had a captivating presence about him because he carried his powerful body with such easy confidence; knowing you had a big dick could do that. Plus he could lift an average man above his head if he desired. Usually he just tried to pick up men a different way and then have his way with them.

"If it's bad news, Tanner, I don't want to know."

"You have company."

"I heard the doorbell. Who was it?"

"You sure you want to know?" He voice was tinged with concern.

Summer dropped to the bed, sinking into the mattress as much as his heart did. The tux jacket slipped from his fingers and fell to the carpet. "Just tell me one thing: is there going to be a wedding?"

"Well, that all depends on you. Which man do you really want?"

Part One

Seasons of Change

Chapter One

One fact Summer Wilson never discussed with his always-horny best friend was that he'd never had sex at any one of his parents' three houses, mostly because Tanner would have sex wherever he felt like and consequences be damned and to admit to his faults just set him up for ridicule. There lay the stark contrast between the two friends: Summer was always concerned with what other people thought, and Tanner Fox was more likely to toss a middle finger someone's way if they disagreed with him. For the retiring Summer, he just wasn't brave enough to bring anyone home to meet the folks and the primary reason for that was because it was not a woman he would want to bring home. A man on his arm and in his bed, maybe that wouldn't go over so well given his parents' stuffy, conservative old-world ways. So, his occasional sexual flings had been relegated to dorm rooms, Spring Break encounters in South Beach and Cancun, not at the fancy Fifth Avenue duplex with all its treasured antiques, not at the so-called cottage in the Hamptons, and certainly not at the quaint lake house in the Finger Lake region of Central New York.

Today could change all that. To paraphrase the song, it was his party and he'd have fuck if he wanted, and lord knows his body needed it, the primal release of an orgasm. That is, if he was lucky enough to find a willing partner in which to get all sweaty with...and it was only a few hours into the party that candidate number one walked through the door.

His best friend was Tanner Fox, and if Summer was born the conservative type, his friend was the discontented rebel with parents who had coddled him to the point that he hated authority, and right now he was nudging his elbow into Summer's side, indicating the front entrance of the spacious cottage that most people would call an estate. Summer, sipping at the cold bubbly in his crystal glass, nearly let it slip from his fingers when he saw what...who his friend was pointing at. And that's when he thought the following: he might just get to have sex here after all, his parents' presence be damned. Take me now, hard.

Not that the new arrival had given any indication of wanting such an encounter. They'd not even made eye contact. This was pure fantasy on Summer's part. But this new guy was the first guest he'd seen that sparked any kind of fire inside him. And yes, while his opportunity for an exchange of heated physicality grew exponentially with the arrival of this man whose name he didn't know, a man whose steamy blue eyes captivated him from the moment he'd seen them flicker with wonder, Summer quickly dismissed any possibility. The guy, tall, hot, dripping sex, was way out of his league. Still, those eyes contained an unmistakable sensual heat, like the man was primed for sex anytime. The noticeable bulge in his tight jeans was further proof.

"Oh man, fuck me right now," Tanner said

"Um, Tanner, you have a boyfriend, and he's in the next room." Summer paused. "And besides, aren't you a dedicated top?"

"There are exceptions to every rule, that sexy beast can pound my ass anytime he wants," he said with a swipe of his tongue against his lips. "Lucky for me young Eddie is open to open relationships. Maybe we can form a threesome with that hunk."

"You're a pig."

"You're just jealous," he said. "Fine, I'll back down since it's your party. I'll let you have him on one condition, that you actually go through with it."

"How do you know he's even gay?"

"Did I not get you laid in prep? With the captain of the baseball team?"

"Burn Silva," Summer said with a reminiscent smile. "Okay, you've got great gaydar."

"And look at that hottie Burn now, playing ball in the Major Leagues. I bet he's getting lots of at bats." Tanner grinned. "If you know what I mean."

"I always know what you mean, Tanner. Everything is about sex with you."

"That's hardly a crime. My big cock loves action. Hell, it needs it."

Summer shook his head over his friend's naughty nature, wishing deep down he had the same devil-may-care attitude as the guy who had seen him through prep school and college. And Tanner, all five feet eight of him, his body thick and muscular, his personality smarmy, slightly dangerous, was ridiculously successful when it came to sex. Quite the opposite of Summer, who was an even six feet, fluffy blond-hair, perfect teeth and clothes, the ideal A&F catalog model who was shy and inhibited when it came to exploring his inner animal. Both of them came from money, both of them were only children of parents who expected much of their offspring. Only difference lay in the fact that Tanner didn't care what his parents thought and Summer directed all of his actions with his in mind. Still, if any man was going to bring Summer over to the dark side, it was this brown-haired hunk, and he was ready to step forward to greet him when Tanner gave him a gentle push.

"Hey, I'm going already," Summer said.

"Don't let this one get away. It's been too long."

True, it had been months since Summer had enjoyed a sexual romp. Anyone would have been fine, but this guy...he didn't need to know much about him, only that he dripped sexuality and coarse manliness. As he made his approach, he imagined himself ripping open the man's shirt off and licking his hard chest, his hungry tongue trailing down, down further, touching him, teasing him...taking him...all of him, into his waiting mouth. Summer loved oral sex, there was something about the force of a hardened cock inside his heated mouth that brought him to climax. Made the other guy come, too.

"Hi, welcome," Summer said, finding words behind his nerves.

"Thank you, hello," the man said, his reply ever-so polite.

From the moment their hands touched in a firm handshake, Summer's thoughts were charged with deep, sexual energy. He wouldn't have minded bending over right this second and providing his guest with a pleasurable, sweaty afternoon distraction. But wasn't he getting ahead of himself? He didn't even know who this guy was or what he was doing at his invite-only, exclusive college graduation party. Did they have friends in common, and if so, why hadn't they met before?

"I'm Aaron," the man said, his voice deep, smoky.

"Summer," he said with a handshake. "Summer Wilson."

"Aha, so it's your celebration I've found myself at. Lucky me, the graduation boy greets me first," he said, a smile lighting his handsome face.

Boy, that's how he'd been referred to as, the word wrapped around his tongue with suggestive ease, and perhaps a hint of playful intrigue. Or maybe Summer was just imagining intent beneath dialogue. As Summer drank him in, boy was not a reciprocal description for this hard hunk of a man, not with the week-long scruff on his face that looked more beard than whiskers, not with the shock of curly brown hair poking out from his V-neck shirt. Summer felt a heady, wanting tightness in his loins as desire flooded to his cock. Aaron was easily six feet two, with a fine, sculpted body that was either the result of great genes or a healthy workout regimen. Didn't matter which, Aaron was just a pleasure to look at, and to hear his deep voice permeate around him, Summer could see himself easily lying down on the floor and letting him have his way. Now wouldn't that be a nice graduation present? Better than the silver-colored Jaguar his father had bought for him.

"Congratulations," the man named Aaron continued, "Princeton man, right?"

Man, this time, he liked that they'd progressed...graduated. Summer cleared a knot from his throat, nodded, struggling to find words. "Yes, four years of preppy hell, completed. You?"

"Oh, college wasn't my bag, much to the consternation of my parents."

Using words like that, maybe the stud didn't need higher education. "Your parents?"

"Sid and Nancy Carlton," he said, "Sid...Dad, he works with your father at the firm."

"Seriously...Sid and Nancy?"

"Not at all what you're thinking," Aaron replied with a rehearsed laugh, like he'd been dealing with the juxtaposed issue his entire life. "My parents hardly meet the definition of counter-culture, unless Jack Kerouac wore bow ties."

"Now that's an image," Summer stated.

They quickly ran out of small talk, silence hovering between them like cloying humidity. Summer was desperate to find a new topic, if nothing else wanting to keep Aaron Carlton at his side for as long as possible. He let too much time pass and those ocean blue eyes had already begun to wash out over the party scene behind them. There were over one hundred people here, all of them tanned and privileged and lapping up champagne and top shelf liquor, and all at the Wilson's expense.

"So, Summer, I'll see you ‘round. I promised my father I'd find him as soon as I arrived."

"Oh, uh, yeah, he's here, saw him earlier. He's probably smoking a cigar with my dad in the library."

Aaron nodded, smiled slyly. "Cigars. We all know what they compensate for."

Shit, Tanner had been right. Comment like that, this guy had to be gay.

But was it a come on, or did he drop innuendo like Tanner dropped his pants?

Without waiting for a reply, the suggestive comment hanging between them, the sexy man named Aaron ventured beyond the foyer of the cottage. Summer's eyes happily followed his ass, tight in those pricey jeans, his mind conjuring an image of his cigar and how he would enjoy lighting it. Aaron disappeared into the crowd, Summer feeling his heart deflate, as though it now needed his fresh breath of air to keep beating. Steadying his legs, he made his way over to the bar, cutting ahead of the long line because he could, it was his party and the honoree was not to be denied his beverage of choice, which today was champagne...lots of champagne. The cute but clearly straight bartender served him quickly and then moved onto his next guest, a woman in a yellow frock with breasts that could be used as floatation devices in the pool. Summer looked away, took a grateful, healthy sip as he looked around at the noisy activity that comprised his lavish graduation party. He saw no further sign of Aaron, and Tanner had gone off somewhere, too. Great, his big party and here he was standing by himself.

Who the hell were all these people?

But he knew the reality of the situation, this party really wasn't for him. It was just a chance for his father to network with his business connections, for his mother to have her society friends over, both of them wishing to impress their snooty social circle with their son's collegiate achievement. True, he'd graduated from Princeton with a 4.0, something Danton and Marilyn Wilson were quick to inform anyone who asked (or didn't), and while that should have been enough to please them, it was only the beginning. Starting next Tuesday, Summer was expected at his father's investment firm to begin his "promising career in finance." From Memorial Day weekend in the Hamptons to Manhattan the following week, with three months of commuting between the two, it was a schedule that had Summer filled with dread. To the manor born, you had to play by the rules.

Rules he despised.

What he would give for the summer off, to figure out what he really wanted.

And what he wanted was the strength, the guts, to tell his father the firm was not for him.

Summer downed the last of his champagne, grabbed a refill, and then made his way out into the baked sunshine of the first unofficial Sunday of the summer. The lawn was expansive, the green grass perfectly cared for, and even though the ocean was only two hundred yards away, there was an in-ground Olympic-sized swimming pool, today filled with guests who were eager to splash and laugh, drink and indulge in the eighty-five degree temperatures. Scoping out the scene of white tables and chairs, looking for Aaron Carlton, he instead found Tanner Fox and his boyfriend, Eddie Horn, the center of attention in the pool. They were trying to organize a game of Marco Polo, but none of the others were going for it, so Tanner called them all losers, climbed onto the diving board and even though he was short, he was all muscle underneath a coating of wiry hair, and so he let loose a cannonball jump that splashed the perfectly coiffed ladies sitting beside the pool. Summer heard them utter disgust at his behavior.

"That furry little monkey is an utter embarrassment," one woman said as she wiped water from her face, her make-up coming off like melted cement.

Summer just smirked. Perhaps he would join his friend in the pool. Nothing else to do.

But then he saw Aaron stepping out onto the patio, alone, breathing deep the briny air that swirled off the ocean. My God, Summer thought, why am I so turned on by this guy? Was it because he hadn't sex in a few months, since his last boyfriend had dumped him prior to Spring Break? Or because he was pissed about a party filled with non-entities that meant little to him? He was feeling slightly rebellious with all the bubbly coursing through his veins and what better way to indulge such a feeling than a hot encounter with a hot guy?

Summer realized he was staring, long enough to attract Aaron's attention.

With drink in hand, Aaron approached him, bypassing the glad-hands of men and women who seemed to know him. He lifted his glass, a gesture that Summer repeated.

"You don't look like you're having much fun," Aaron said.

"My father's idea," he said, "this isn't my scene."

"What is your scene?"

Aaron's deep voice was tinged with suggestion, as though the right words coming out of his mouth would reveal where this conversation would take them.

"Two people, a bottle of wine, intimacy far from the crowd," Summer said.

Where had that image come from? Was it all the champagne he'd consumed? Or was he just tired of playing it safe?

"Sounds like a nice idea," Aaron said, his hand reaching out, caressing Summer's freshly shaved cheek. "Tell me where to get the bottle. Tell me where to meet you."

Was this really happening? Summer searched for words, heard them stumbling out of his mouth. "Um, down by the beach...I'll grab the you there?"

Aaron smiled as his hands settled on his hips. It was like his chest expanded, his V-neck stretched to the limit. Muscles bulged, and he could almost see the outline of dark hair beneath the shirt, both of which made Summer's crotch tighten. "Maybe I think I'm glad I let my father convince me to come to this party," the sexy man said.

Summer swallowed, hard. He felt a slight sheen of sweat upon his brow, nervous with anticipation. "I think I'm glad, too, Aaron. I mean, if I'm not misreading anything."

He watched Aaron look around at the crowd before pressing his lips against his. The initial taste was sweet, the touch erotic from the rough scratch of whiskers against his soft cheek. Summer felt himself go weak in the knees as he realized he was growing hard inside his shorts. As they parted, Summer realized no one had observed the exchange...the kiss. It was like they were suddenly alone on this big, verdant lawn, and all that existed was their beating hearts, their heightened desire.

"Let me get the wine," Summer said.

"Sounds great, I'll see you...soon."

Aaron slipped away like a phantom, disappearing around a copse of trees, heading toward the crashing waves of the ocean.

Summer pinched himself. He was not only awake, he was alive.

And soon, he imagined he would be on his knees, sucking on Aaron's hard cock, bringing him to climax after climax. Shooting his own load, too. He felt his cock thicken.

Summer Wilson was about to have sex at one of his parents' homes.

Life was indeed moving forward.