looking for an angle to do a new reality show. He wanted to film the life of a well-known
star for three months, but he wasn’t having much success getting a star. This producer
wanted someone interesting, someone who would attract ratings, a character who the
public loved. All the interesting people in Hollywood were turning him down because
they thought it was beneath them. There was a long list of C-listers lobbying for this
reality show, but the producer wasn’t interested in them and he was almost ready to
disregard the entire concept. At first, Dexter flatly refused. The thought of being followed by a film crew day
and night for months made him nauseated. But when his agent told him how much money
he’d make doing a reality show, he stopped and took a deep breath. With that kind of
money he’d be safe again. And it would be his own money, not Michael’s. It was an offer
too good to refuse, and he was too desperate to be above any offers now. So he closed his
eyes tightly and told his agent to get him the job, and to ask for even more money. Dexter
had learned how to play hardball in Hollywood, and he wasn’t shy about asking anyone
for anything.
A few hours later, Dexter’s agent called back. Dexter had just returned from the
beach and he was undressing so he could take a nap before dinner. When the phone rang,
he’d just removed his shoes and swim trunks. He knew it was his agent because he had
voice-activated caller ID. He crossed to the nightstand next to his bed, wearing nothing
but a black T-shirt. But the phone wasn’t there. His lowered his head and followed the
sound of the ring to the floor. He got down on his hands and knees and lifted the dust
ruffle. The phone must have fallen off the nightstand and slid beneath the bed. He
reached under the bed fast and pressed the talk button.
When Dexter pressed the phone to his ear, his agent told him the producer was
thrilled to hear Dexter was willing to do the reality show. They made the deal that day,
and for more money than Dexter had even imagined. Dexter closed his eyes and sighed,
then thanked his agent and told him to send all the paperwork.
After the phone call, Dexter got up from the floor and sat down on the bed. He
pulled off his T-shirt and rested his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t thrilled about turning
his home into a public spectacle, but he smiled anyway. He knew he’d been lucky and the timing had been perfect. If he hadn’t called his agent, he might have missed the
opportunity. A year earlier, the first person he would have called would have been
Michael. But this time he stared at the telephone and shook his head back and forth.
Dexter and Michael weren’t a couple anymore, and Michael could find out about the new
reality show just like everybody else—when the announcement was made public.
Dexter also wasn't thrilled at the thought of Brighton getting remotely involved in
any kind of show business. When he thought about his lost childhood, his heart sank. But
she wasn't going to be subjected to the pressures of a long-running TV series, they
wouldn't be filming in a studio, and she wouldn't miss any school. Besides, he knew
Brighton well. He had a feeling that when she found out about the reality show, she'd fall
asleep with a smile on her face for the next six months.
Dexter stretched his arms in the air and yawned. He hadn’t slept well the night
before and his body was sore from swimming. But while he was yawning he thought he
heard something. It sounded like a man clearing his throat. Dexter turned to his left and
saw that the door was closed. He’d checked it twice to make sure it was locked, so he
knew no one else was in the room.
Then he heard it again. It was definitely a man’s deep voice clearing his throat,
louder this time. Dexter turned to his right and looked at the fireplace. His eyes opened
wide and his jaw dropped. He jumped sideways and pressed his naked back against the
headboard. There was a man with a beard sitting in one of the tall-backed leather wing
chairs that flanked the fireplace. His legs were crossed at the knees, his elbow was resting
on the arm, and his chin was in his palm. He stared and Michael and winked, then stood up from the chair, walked to the foot of the bed, and looked down at Michael’s naked
body with a wide, nasty grin.
Dexter reached for the phone and said, “Who are you? What are you doing in here?
I’m calling the police right now.” He pulled the duvet cover up with his other hand to
conceal his private parts. His naked legs and torso were still showing. But at least his
genitals were covered.
The man laughed and rubbed his beard. “Put down that silly contraption. You
know who I am.” The man’s voice was deep and strong. He spoke with an old New
England accent that almost sounded British.
Dexter lowered the telephone and leaned forward. He shook his head back and
forth and his eyes blinked. The man looked exactly like Captain Major Lang from the
painting over the parlor fireplace. He was wearing the same sea captain’s uniform and his
eyes were the same vivid blue. “I know who you look
like
,” Dexter said, “but I want to
know who you
are
. This isn’t funny, man. Did Michael put you up to this so I’d get
scared and sell the house? Because it’s not going to work, whoever you are.”
The man turned to the right and looked out the window. He laughed and waved
his arm. “That loser Michael isn’t creative or smart enough to think of something that
clever.” He turned back and looked into Dexter’s eyes. “This isn’t a joke. I’m Captain
Major Lang.” Then he laughed and stared at Dexter’s naked legs. He sucked in his
bottom lip and said, “Did anyone ever tell you that you are magnificent when you’re
naked?”
Dexter ignored the compliment and moved toward the middle of the bed. “I don’t
believe in ghosts,” he said. “So you’d better tell me who you are, and fast.” “Do you remember your first morning in Keel Cottage?” Captain Lang asked.
“Who do you think stopped your daughter from falling to her death? I knew those two
buffoons from Boston who sold you the house hadn’t fixed that railing on the widow’s
walk. They said you were getting the house cheap enough, and they didn’t want to invest
another dime in it. I followed you and your daughter up there that day to make sure
nothing catastrophic would happen to either of you.”
“You’re lying,” Dexter shouted. “Get out of my house. I won’t press charges if
you leave right now.”
Captain Lang gave him a stern look. “This is
my
house, young man. You’re the
one trespassing.”
“That’s it,” Dexter said. “I’m calling the police.” He wasn’t going to play games
with a lunatic.
When he turned the phone on, Captain Lang said, “Who do you think pushed that
loveseat over and pinned the loser, Michael, to the porch floor? I didn’t plan on his dick
getting cut, but it was a nice added touch. It kept him from sleeping with you all weekend.
And who do you think opens the kitchen cabinet every morning to frighten your
housekeeper? I know you sleep in the nude and I know what you do to yourself every
morning when you wake up. I enjoy watching you, especially when you call out my name
when you climax. The first time you saw my portrait, you made a comment about how
attractive I am. You only whispered this, but I heard you. I’ve been with you and I’ve
been watching you since the first day you arrived at Keel Cottage.”
Dexter held the phone near his cheek and stared at Captain Lang. “You heard me
speak to your portrait that first day? You’ve been
spying
on me?” Captain Lang laughed and rubbed his beard. He took a few steps toward Dexter.
“Forgive me, but this is all new to me, too. In my day, there were plenty of young men
willing to pull down their pants for me. I took them all without thinking twice. There
were more men than I care to count. But sex between two men was all done very
secretively, and there was never an open opportunity to have a young man as beautiful as
you actually live here in Keel Cottage. It just wasn’t done in those days. So excuse me for
eavesdropping, Dexter. I know it’s not polite, but when I saw you were the new owner of
the house, I just couldn’t help myself.”
Dexter stopped dialing the police. He put the phone down on the bed and tilted his
head. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but who else could have known these things? No one
knew he’d been calling Captain Lang’s name out loud while he’d been jerking off each
morning. “Okay,” he said, “if you are Captain Lang, then why haven’t you been scaring
us away? From what I’ve heard, that’s what you do to all the new owners of this house.
Thanks to you, the previous owners were so terrified they practically gave the house
away. And why would you save my daughter from falling to the ground? You’re
supposed to be an evil ghost.”
Captain Lang smiled and shrugged his wide shoulders. “Because I
like
you. I
never liked anyone else who lived here.”
Dexter raised an eyebrow. “Do something ghost-like. Walk through a wall or
something. Prove it to me.”
Captain Lang took a deep breath and sighed. “Very well,” he said. He turned
away from the window and went to the fireplace. He lifted his right arm, flicked his wrist,
and stepped right into the mantel. A second later, he stepped back into the room with a huge grin on his face. This
time he was naked. His torso was lean and strong, with well-developed abdominal
muscles and large, square chest muscles. There was a fine layer of dark hair on his chest
and legs. Above his long, thick penis there was a thicker, untrimmed patch of hair.
Dexter let go of the duvet cover and pressed one hand on his stomach and the
other over his mouth. “Either I’m seeing things and I’ve finally lost my mind, or you
really are the ghost of Captain Lang.”
Captain Lang walked to the end of the bed and looked down at Dexter’s smooth,
tan body. When he’d dropped the cover, Dexter was completely naked again. Lang
smiled and said, “Call me Lang. Captain Lang is much too formal for two people who
know each other so well.”
Dexter pulled the cover up again and said, “I don’t know you at all. I’ve only seen
your portrait, and heard all the ghost stories about you. And I had no idea you were gay.”
“I guess that’s true,” Captain Lang said. “How could you have known? When I
was alive, no one knew my sexual preference. I was considered a bachelor. But I do
know
you
well. I’ve been with you since the first day you removed your clothes in this
room. And you’re the most beautiful young man who has ever been in this house.” Then
he stepped toward the bed and rested his large hand on Dexter’s right knee.
Dexter felt his hand. It didn’t feel like the cold hand of a ghost. It was warm and
strong and it made Dexter’s balls tighten. “If you are a ghost, then why is it that I can see
you and feel you? I thought ghosts were transparent…on another wavelength or
frequency. I’m not psychic and I have no special abilities.” Captain Lang laughed. “Don’t believe all the nonsense you hear on television
from fake seers. I have no idea what wavelengths or frequencies are. The reason you can
see me and feel me is because I’m allowing you to see me and feel me. I could disappear
at any time, and I’d be invisible to you again and you wouldn’t be able to feel me.” Then
he sat down on the bed and slid his hand up the back of Dexter’s leg. When the tips of his
fingers reached the bottom of Dexter’s ass, he closed his eyes and sighed. “I’ve wanted to
do this since the first day I saw you…even before you undressed.”
Dexter’s heart began to race. “You’ve been watching me undress? You’ve seen
me masturbate?”
Lang nodded yes and continued to grope his ass.
Dexter lifted his leg so Lang wouldn’t stop. “Why didn’t you do this sooner?”
“You weren’t ready,” Lang said. “I wanted to give you time to get used to the
house and to get used to having me in the house. You knew, deep down, that I’ve been
here. I’ve been leaving you signs too obvious to ignore.”
If this was really happening, Dexter now had an explanation for all the peculiar
things that had been happening around the house. “Thank you for saving my daughter.
She could have been killed.”
Lang squeezed the back of Dexter’s thigh and said, “She’s a wonderful child, and
what the former owners did was wrong. I never liked them. That’s why I got rid of them.