Chapter Thirty-Eight
Seth was grateful that Andrew consented to babysit while he called Jody. In fact, Andrew had given the boy a camera and they had gone out into town “see what we can see” in Andrew's words.
“Jody! Get your ass over here and pick the kid up!” Seth demanded, squeezing the phone as if it were Jody's neck. “He spent the night, for God's sake!”
“Seth, it's not a good time. Gotta be in court in an hour. Call my wife. She'll pick him up.” Jody clicked off before Seth could protest. He punched buttons and waited.
“Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe!” a chirpy voice answered.
Seth frowned. “I thought this was Midpeninsula Staffing and Temps.”
“It is. I always wanted to try answering that way.”
“Don't do it again, that would be my advice. Is Lurline Laven there, please?”
After a pause, Seth heard, “This is Mizz Laven.” The voice wasn't unpleasant.
“Mizzzzz Laven?” Seth hit the z's hard. “I have your son Lemuel and I was wondering if you could pick him up.”
“Is this a joke? Who are you?”
“I'm Seth Behar. Your husband Jody ...”
“You!!!” Lurline sputtered. “If you harm one millimeter of Lemmie's foreskin, I'll have you in jail forever. FOREVER!!! Do you hear!”
“He ran away and showed up here last night. Could you just pick him up?”
“LAST NIGHT!!! He spent the night? In a nest of vampire faggots???”
“He's perfectly safe. If you could just pick him up … Or I can drop him off even ...”
“I'll be right there!” she said and continued uncertainly, “Where is 'there', anyways?” she asked sheepishly and then didn't like Seth's answer. “South of Market??? That's thirty miles away …”
“Your son made it. It's not gonna be your daily commute,” Seth noted.
“Well … You might at least ...”
“Might what? I took care of him. I'm trying to get him home safely. I'm not the criminal here.”
“Hmmph.” She clicked off.
Andrew and Lemuel returned after an hour. “And so, Lestrade, now we'll put the pieces of the puzzle together. Or mix them up. It's the same thing really.” Andrew sounded very conspiratorial.
“His name's Lemuel,” Seth told Andrew. “And your mother will be here soon,” he told Lemuel.
“He doesn't get it, does he, Holmes?” Inspector Lestrade said in his deepest possible voice, followed by a giggle.
“Mrs. Hudson,” Andrew aimed at Seth, “Would you get us a Mountain Dew?”
“How about some chocolate milk?” Seth compromised. “Except you will have to imagine the chocolate.”
“Two drops tincture of opium, if you please,” Andrew added, waggling his eyebrows at Lestrade.
Seth returned with milk and Oreos to find Lemuel in stitches in front of Andrew's computer. “We took the street car to the wharf and took pictures of the tourists and now Andrew, I mean Holmes ...” he switched to his deep voice, “... is mixing them up.” He pointed at the top half of a fat man in a straw hat and Hawaiian shirt attached to the mismatched and mini-skirted bottom half of a female form.
“Nice gender identity lesson, Holmes,” Seth commented, putting down the milk and cookies.
“Too much opium, Mrs. Hudson,” Andrew said, examining the white milk with disdain.
Seth tried to work but the constant intrusion of raucous cackling from the next room at first annoyed and then intrigued him. He stood at the door and watched the two working at Andrew's computer. It was hard to tell who was enjoying it more. He returned to making calls and waited for Mizz Laven, hoping there wouldn't be too much drama in front of Lemuel. Eventually, he checked his watch. It was 2PM, more than enough time to drive up from Menlo Park.
“Lemuel, I don't know where your mother is, exactly. Do you know her cell number?” Seth asked.
“That's ok, Uncle Seth. She's always late and never remembers to carry her phone anyway.”
“In that case, Lestrade, we need more material, don't you think? We could try Union Square this time. More natives, but equally bizarre. What say you, sir?” Andrew mouthed the words “an hour” to Seth.
Seth watched the two of them leave with cameras around their necks. Automatically, at the corner, Lemuel took Andrew's hand as they crossed the street.
Seth punched more buttons on his phone. “What?” Jody whispered in answer.
“She's late. It's been three hours.” Seth whispered back.
“I'm in court. Why are you whispering?” Jody asked.
“Fuck it, Jody!” Now Seth wasn't whispering. “Don't either one of you give a damn about your kid?”
Jeff and Kevin got back from the studio shoot tired; making porn is hard work after all. “I think we should have tried to show more of a connection,” Kevin said as they entered Jeff's room. “Oh, hi Ty,” he added.
“It wasn't supposed to be love, dummy. It was supposed to be raw. Just sex. No emotion.”
“But how can you have sex without any emotion?” Kevin persisted.
“Rape. Huh? Ever heard of rape? No emotion. Supposedly it's not even physically fun for the rapist. It's all about power.”
“So you should have been more powerful then. You weren't. Chris noticed. Fucking that professor is warping you, Jeff. You need to get more into the scene Chris is trying to shoot.” Kevin sensed his words weren't meaning much to Jeff and turned his attention across the room. “You into making porn at all, Ty?”
Ty nearly fell off his bed. “Me?”
“Sure. Why not?” Kevin appraised the body before him.
“Uh, I gotta go,” Jeff said. He was nervous; meetings with Dormeyer weren't getting any easier.
“You have anything left for the professor? You were pretty much fucked out at the studio.”
“I just lie back and relax. He does the work,” Jeff sounded more hopeful than assured..
“So, Ty, seriously. You interested?” Kevin watched Jeff go before turning his full attention to the roommate.
“Um, what exactly does it involve?”
“Not much. Just being naked and having sex with somebody you hardly know in front of a few strangers.” Ty stammered and said that sounded like a lot. “No, not really,” Kevin affirmed. “Once you do it once, it gets easy. Let's see what you got.” Ty appeared confounded by the request. “I mean let's see the goods. Take off your clothes.”
“Kevin, I can't just … I mean you're fully dressed and …”
“Is this gonna be I'll-do-it-if-you-will?” Kevin sighed. He pushed his pants down to his knees, pulled his shirt up to his armpits, and slowly pivoted. “Ok? Nothing too remarkable, huh? All the usual parts in the usual places. Now you.” Kevin stood exposed waiting for Ty; there was no sexual component to his display. They could have been a doctor's office.
Well ...ok.” Ty stood and exposed himself.
“Turn around,” Kevin ordered. By the time Ty completed his pivot his cock was half erect. “So getting it up won't be a problem,” Kevin noted. “Nice balls. Is that as big as it gets?”
“No. It gets a little bigger ...” Ty gasped as Kevin took hold of his cock.
“Yeah, it does,” Kevin grinned as he gave Ty a few strokes and felt expansion.
Ty's cry of “Stop!” came too late. He was a while getting over his orgasmic convulsions. He held onto a chair to keep from falling over as his dick pumped a huge load all over an amused Kevin.
“That's a lot of cum, dude.” Kevin watched a major shot drip down his stomach and onto his dick.
“Oh shit,” Ty gasped trying to get his breath. He pulled his t-shirt off and did his best to wipe his semen away. He was suddenly embarrassed by the realization that he was holding Kevin's cock and wiping it, causing an erection. He dropped it like flaming charcoal. “OH! I'm sorry! I didn't know ...”
“You might as well finish the job, Ty.”
“Uh, sure ...” He wiped Kevin's belly and then finished cleaning off his dick. With every swipe of the t-shirt Kevin's dick got bigger.
“See what you've gone and done,” Kevin said in mock dismay. “You could suck it, I guess. You want to try?” Kevin pushed Ty to his knees and then thrust his dick forward into Ty's face. He noted Ty's reluctance and prodded. “It's just your own cum you'll taste. It won't hurt you. Think of it as recycling protein.”
Ty gagged and knob-nibbled, holding Kevin's cock cautiously with thumb and forefinger, as if it might explode the way his own had. He was being overly fastidious and was about to stop when Kevin grabbed his head and with a quick thrust forced his whole length in. Ty gagged again and succeeded in pulling away.
Kevin still held Ty's head in his hands. “I tell you, Ty, if you're gonna be a cocksucker, you might as well be a good one. Try it again.” He pushed his cock against Ty's unwelcoming lips. “Come on, open up ...” It took a semi-serious slap in the face to get Ty's jaws open. “Lips and tongue. No teeth,” Kevin instructed. “That's better. A little suction. Up and down, like I'm fucking your face. Mmmm. That's much better.”
Ty worked on Kevin's cock as best he could. He was hugely relieved when Kevin pulled his erection back. “Thanks. I thought you might cum in my mouth,” he gasped. He was out of breath and teary.
“Naw. I'm gonna cum in your ass,” Kevin told him and watched the panicked expression develop instantly on Ty's face. “But that's not a lesson for today.” Puppy dog gratefulness replaced the panic, as Ty stood. Kevin then shocked the neophyte by kissing him. “You were pretty good for a noob, Ty. So what about the porn business?”
“I don't think I'm ready for that.”
“Need more lesson, huh? I figured you would. We can take it at your pace.”
Ty breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't until Kevin had left that he decided the relief was not so much over not getting fucked as the fact he would be getting another lesson. What should I try next, he wondered. I really wasn't very good at sucking. And fucking!!! Wow! I'd thought about it, but … really doing it? Holy sh … His thoughts were ended by Jeff's return.
“Man, I tell you, messing with a professor is probably a major mistake. When he's done I feel like I could shit for days.” Jeff was walking very carefully to his bed. He stretched out on his back and looked over at Ty. Something strange about Ty, he thought. “Did Kevin mess with you?”
“A little.”
Jeff laughed heartily. “Here's a secret. Massage him down between his balls and his asshole. He'll be on his back with his feet in the air in two seconds yelling, “Fuck me, Ty! Fuck me!” That image of Kevin, who had been so masterful moments before, made Ty laugh and then laugh harder. “No shit, Ty. He loves getting fucked. Do you have a big dick? Never mind, he likes 'em all.” Jeff lapsed into silence and thought a bit. “So do I,” he added as he pictured Dormeyer's cock. “I gotta quit fuckin' him,” he said aloud.
“Fuckin' who … whom?” Ty asked.
“All of 'em. I'm gonna be a monk. Whip myself every time I get an erection. That is the answer.”
“No. You're too cute. You owe it to the world to share.” Jesus, what did I just say, Ty asked himself.
“Ok, you can fuck me. That's all. Nobody else.”
“You're kidding, right?”
“ 'Clearly yes', the sex addict replied,” Jeff replied. “Except on Wednesdays. Dormeyer goes to dinner in town on Wednesdays.”
“Seriously, you're kidding, aren't you.”
Jeff calculated. “You'll have to wait five days to find out.” He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
Tsien-tsien showed his cousin a bill of materials asked how to obtain them. His cousin scrutinized the list carefully; his face expressed surprise, but he said only, “That's a special order, for sure. I'm not sure. Give me a day. Dynamite isn't carried by many restaurant supply houses.”
“I can't wait any longer,” Tsien-tsien answered firmly. “It gets risky after that.” He drummed his fingers impatiently waiting for his phone to ring. They sipped tea in silence. At last the phone buzzed.
“It took me forever to get rid of Nicky and Nash. You can come to the hotel now.”
Tsien-tsien rose from the table and thanked his cousin for services rendered to the People's Republic. He hoped his cousin didn't actually want to get paid for the four dinners he had served. He walked out the door and looked for a cab. He practiced walking with shorter steps and swinging his hips. For some reason Morrie liked Tsien-tsien to act girlish. He pursed his lips and half-closed his eyes. “I'm Anna May Wong. I come from old Hong Kong. But now I'm a Hollywood star,” Tsien-tsien whispered. A man on the street reacted as if Tsien-tsien was trying to pick him up. He chuckled to himself. It wasn't a bad impersonation. All he'll want is a blow job, Tsien-tsien decided. Nicky always wanted to fuck. But Morrie likes blow jobs. At least tonight will be an easy night, Tsien-tsien told himself.
A cab stopped and he got in. “The Marriott, please. The one on Fourth,” the breathy voice of Tsien-tsien's hustler persona requested. He removed his dark tie and jacket and pulled his shirt out of his trousers. He opened one button at the bottom and two at the top. He withdrew a florid silken cloth from his jacket pocket and opened it up before tying it around his neck. “Thank you,” he whispered to the driver and entered the hotel. He had a magnetic card to open Morrie's room
“Morrie ...” he said quietly, to announce his arrival.
Morrie turned to greet him. His open robe displayed that he was wearing nothing else. He put his hands on his hips and said, “Get me hard. I want to fuck you all night.”
Tsien-tsien smiled bashfully and knelt in front of Morrie. I should have gone with Nicky, he thought. At least Nicky is a sweet fuck. Maybe if I give Morrie a good b. j. I can talk him out of the fucking part. Five minutes later, with Morrie's cock up his ass, Tsien-tsien admitted to himself that his Meritorious Service Medal (Second Class) had come at a high price.
“Are you awake?” Nash asked.
“I am now,” Steve answered.
Nash snuggled against him. “Thanks for letting me spend the night.”
“Your line was irresistible,” Steve answered. “No one ever texted me that I remind him of dim sum.”
“Eating a dim sum is just like sucking on your cock when it's soft and chewy.” Nash turned his head to give Steve a kiss and gently stroked Steve's not completely soft cock.
“Sorry the night was disappointing for you.”
“It wasn't. Not at all. I got to sleep with you. I could kiss you and touch you whenever I wanted. Wherever I wanted.” Nash giggled. “I kissed you a lot. Touched you, too.”
“Man, I must have slept right through it. I'm getting old.”
“A couple of times, in your sleep, you kissed me back,” Nash informed him. “Sleeping with you is NOT a waste of time, Steve.” He kissed his host again.
“I must have morning dragon breath … just a second.” They took turns in the bathroom and then hopped back into bed with each other and exchanged a minty kiss.
“You hold me like you own me.” Nash snuggled as close to Steve as he could.
“Wow. I don't want you to think …”
“I like it,” Nash interrupted. “I like everything we do.” Wordlessly, Nash's body invited Steve's possession. “Everything ...” Nash tensed slightly as Steve entered him.
Steve's slow, sinuous motions, arousing Nash, didn't last long. He shifted to faster, harder thrusts and soon to a jarring, out-of control pounding. Nash softly wailed and held on to whatever he could grab trying to pull Steve deeper into himself. Steve's groans said he was coming, but his pounding didn't stop. He fucked Nash until his dick softened and slipped out.
Nash groaned at the withdrawal and pulled Steve into hungry kisses. He was totally blown away by the sex; he kissed Steve over and over; he couldn't stop and couldn't get enough.
“You're all wet,” Steve whispered. “Did you come?”
“Kind of … not exactly … yes, maybe,” Nash answered. “In a way I never felt before.” He continued kissing Steve, more relaxed this time. They never heard the door open.
“Isn't that cute! A sunrise special,” Jackson muttered.
“Don't you knock? Get out of here,” Steve demanded.
“The aging pilot and the ugly troll ...” Jackson commented, making no move to leave. “We have to report this of course. No overnight guests, Stevie. You broke the only rule.” Jackson came closer. “And what a way to go. The magic failed, huh? You kissed the ugly troll and he's still an ugly ...” Steve's fist silenced Jackson.
Jackson reeled backward, barely keeping his balance. He was accusatory. “Don't tell me! You love him!”
“I probably do,” Steve shouted back. Jackson left the room, slamming the door; and Steve turned to Nash. “We better get dressed. Just ignore him.”
“Ugly troll ...” Nash echoed as he got out of bed.
Steve rushed to him and held him. “You're not. Ignore that asshole.”
Nash ventured a small grin. “You probably love me?”
“Ignore that, too,” Steve said. “I was pissed off at Jackson ...” Nash kissed him and didn't press the matter.
“In one month, more has happened to me here than in twenty-two years in New York. Can I take a shower?”
“What are you doing today?” Steve asked when Nash came out of the shower. “You want to hang out for a while? I'll introduce you to my boss.”
“Do I get to put on some clothes first?”
“You have to go and spoil everything ...” Steve rooted around in a dresser and tossed Nash some essentials. They were too big for him, but the alternative of Nash's black suit from the night before wasn't right for hanging out.
The truth was, as Steve told him, he looked cute in rolled up jeans, a droopy t-shirt, and no socks. “It shows off your body,” Steve commented. “I like your body … a lot. Come here.” They hugged while Steve's hands examined some favorite parts of Nash's body.
“You probably love me?” Nash questioned again.
“It's not fair asking me compromising questions while I'm squeezing your ass and dying to kiss you some more.” They kissed and squeezed some more.
“Let's grab a bite and then we're flying. Gotta go pick up the boss.”
) I was going to end this story in Sept. and perhaps start another one in Nov. But I can keep it going. I was just looking for a way to allay the frustrations I always feel when a story dies or an update is unduly delayed.
