EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Forty-One
Steve and Nash were totally wrapped up in each other. For a while anyway, nothing else mattered a whole lot. There was a lot of sex, of course; but there were quieter moments, too – moments that convinced them that whatever they were getting into was worth the risks.
“You have to stop calling me handsome all the time, Steve. My ego isn't that fragile.”
“Nash, I'm not lying. No, you're not pretty like some teenaged girl's erotic dream, but you are handsome in your own way and you're going to get more handsome as you age. You will look better at thirty than you do today. And you will look better at forty than you did at thirty.” Steve put his arm around Nash. “You have fascinating eyes. And your mouth … I gotta kiss you.” That led to a kiss and another and then erections and then sudden seriousness in Nash.
“We can't fuck all the time.”
“Why not?” Steve protested Nash's attempt to get out of bed and pulled him back onto the matress.
“Because I don't know what's happening in my life. Except for you, of course. That funeral in LA, for example. That was the weirdest thing I've ever been part of.” Nash giggled as Steve kissed his ear.
“So weird you can't stop laughing.”
“You know why I'm laughing. 'Cause you're tickling me.”
“Love me some more,” Steve requested. “Come on. I love the way you love me.” He cradled Nash between his spread legs; his body issued the fuck-me invitation. In the week together, their love-making had slowed down but grown in intensity. With Nash's cock in him, Steve needed only the slightest stimulation to come. “You are so intuitive. You know just what I want,” he said when it was over. “It's like you feel everything I'm feeling.”
“I feel a lot more. I feel like I'm getting to know you … really know you … really love you.” Nash looked down at Steve and felt confusion from his own words. “I'm saying stupid things to you. I must sound like a soap opera. I can't find the words to tell you what I really ...” Steve silenced him with a kiss. “No, let me talk,” Steve protested. “I've never felt like this. I want to explode I'm so happy. It's deep and all the time and complicated and all I know how to say is I love you. Now let me get up.”
“No.” Steve pulled Nash close, almost crushing him. “I'm not letting you go. We don't have to do anything right now. Let's just enjoy it before I'm too old to get it up.”
“You could also ditch the 'I'm-so-old' stuff. You're the one who's still hard.”
“I know. It's amazing. I haven't felt like this … in a while.” Steve was going to say “in years” but he stopped himself when Nash started licking his dick. He watched Nash lap on it like a lollipop and then swallow almost his entire length. “I used to be all about fucking, but you're changing me.”
Nash pulled off Steve and looked in his eyes, “Don't change too much. I like that all-about-fucking part.” He went back to sucking and, after a little prostate massage at the base of Steve's balls, got a small mouthful of cum for a reward. He swallowed and said, “I think I drained you.”
The morning sun had chased all the shadows from the room and brought a new mood to the lovers. They were reluctant to let go of each other, but the brightness of the Emeryville room and the need to piss got them moving. While Steve showered, Nash turned his phone on and saw six texts from Nicky that all basically said CALL ME RIGHT NOW. He called. “Nick?”
“At last, asshole!!! Where are you?”
“Emeryville.” He smiled at Steve, who was doing a semi-sexy dance for him while drying himself.
Nicky ignored the geography. “They blew up your father's office!!!”
“Who? In New York? Is he ok? What about Uncle Nahum?” Nash listened while his look of horror conveyed the bad news to Steve.
“Morrie's ok. He was out when the bomb went off - at four in the morning. The cops think the timer was defective. I told them about LA. They think it's related. This ought to get the FBI into it.”
“What about Nahum?” Nash repeated. “I'm callin' him right now.”
“Nash, wait!” was the last Nash heard from Nicky before Nahum answered, “Nahum Chlomsky.”
“Are you alright? Is Aunt Opal alright?”
“Nash? Is that you? What do you mean alright? Why wouldn't we be?”
“They blew up my father's office! The same people who blew up the Merwyn's.”
“Yes, that was too bad about Lew. Not about your Uncle Bugs, though. That putz.”
“What if they're coming for you next?”
“Me? Why me?”
“Something to do with the sweaters.”
“Feh!. I knew Morris would sell me schlock. Tell Nicky no more sweaters. Did he get the sale in Portola?”
“Uncle Nahum, you gotta be careful. Maybe call the cops before you open the store. Check the doors for tampering. Your car. That kind of stuff.”
“You're a good boy, Nashie Rambler. A sweet boy. No wonder Opal loves you. Will you come to dinner on Sunday?”
“Maybe. I'll call you back,” Nash said. “Did you her all that?” he asked Steve who nodded with concern. He punched more buttons, “Nicky, I'm coming over. Fifteen minutes.”
About that same time, on a transcontinental flight, Tsien-tsien paid for a wi-fi connection and checked the news reports. He grimaced in disappointment at the mistimed detonation. “Cheap Chinese watch,” he muttered.
“I don't know about this, Kevin.” Ty was apprehensive.
“Chill, dude. We're just having a look around. You don't have to do anything.”
“The lights are so bright.”
Kevin's response was a leer. “All the better to find your asshole, said the wolf.” Ty reacted badly to that and Kevin soothed him. “I said chill, dude. We're just having a look around. YOU said you wanted to see the place.”
“Yeah, but right now the porn studio is looking pretty real. I mean … it all happens right here? What's this thing? It looks like a giant wedding cake.”
“Watch this!” Kevin pressed a switch and the giant wedding cake began to revolve slowly. “It's a stage for multilevel shooting. The layers make it possible to perform almost any act without moving much. Here, hop on.” Kevin sat on the lowest layer and began moving slowly away from the stationary Ty. “Hurry up, idiot!” Ty jumped aboard and crawled to Kevin. “It all happens here. The suckin'. The fuckin'. The luuuuuv makin'.”
“Where are the camera men?”
“Various positions. You learn to ignore them. Like they're invisible. And then there are some other fixed cameras here and there.” Kevin was deliberately vague about those cameras.
“No shit. You do it right here ...”
“There are other sets, but, yeah, most of it right here. Your hand is probably resting on somebody's dried cum.” Ty picked his hand up instantly and looked at it; then he inspected the carpeting for telltale signs. “Relax,” Kevin continued and leaned back. “The place is actually cleaner than a hospital operating room.”
Ty managed to relax slightly but remained wary. “So, if I did agree to do something, what would I be agreeing to anyway?”
“Basically you'd sign away all rights to any image of you for all eternity in return for a small one-time payment. Sounds monumental, huh? What happens is they take pictures and sell them; you get a cash payment.”
“But about the um … the acts performed. What about that?”
“A contract that says you agree to have sex for pay is illegal. So you agree to perform to the satisfaction of the director and get fired if you don't. They'll shoot the difficult scenes first, so as not to waste time with you backing out when it finally comes to the sex part.”
Ty gulped. “Man, I don't know why I even wanted to see this place. Now that I'm here, I kinda wanna get the fuck out!”
“Dude!” Kevin answered impatiently. “It's just us. Nothing is gonna happen. And I gotta say the money is amazing.”
“Yeah? What about the sex part?”
“Very clinical. You hardly know it's even happening. Well, you do, but it doesn't mean anything. You have no investment in the outcome, as long as the director likes it. Outcome ...” Kevin laughed. “Yeah, it definitely helps if it cums out!”
“Jeez, I dunno, Kevin. Won't this ruin your future chances at ...”
“At what? Being President? Yeah, a porn past might do that, although Bill Clinton kinda proved otherwise … I bet there are pictures of him somewhere,” Kevin laughed
“You make it sound so easy … like just another way to kill a couple hours ...”
“You got a couple of hours to kill?” Total mischief was in Kevin's voice. He grabbed Ty by the waistband of his jeans and pulled him closer. With practiced skill he popped the buttons and had jeans and boxers down in seconds.
“Jeez! Kevin!” Suddenly modest, Ty tried to move away, but Kevin held him by the butt and swallowed his cock before he could react. It didn't take long to get him hard, and once he was hard it didn't take long to get him purring like a cat. At that point, it was no trick at all to get him completely naked.
“Oh, man ...” Ty sighed, knowing this was most likely a huge mistake but he wasunable to say stop. He lay back on the next higher tier and let Kevin go to work. It was easy to lie back and let it happen. It was just gonna be a quick blowjob, like the time in the dorm room. Ty felt the pleasure and the tension start to build. He was almost there. “Yeah … Suck it!” he coaxed and thrust his dick deeper into Kevin's warm and wet mouth.
“Yeah? What's the rush?” Kevin asked. He backed off, leaving Ty's cock pumping in mid air, while he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. “We can make this another lesson.” He started to open his belt but stopped. “You do it,” he told Ty and stood with his crotch almost in Ty's mouth. Ty tentatively reached toward him. “Don't you want to know if I'm hard first?” Kevin licked his lips and added, “Touch me. Feel it.” Ty touched gently and Kevin pressed his hardness against the cupped hand. “Come on, Ty. Do it!” He waited for Ty's response.
The sounds of their breathing seemed loud. Ty overcame his caution and felt the full extent of Kevin's erection, stroking it through the interfering fabric. He could see the outline of the straining penis through the cloth. He opened the belt and fly and pulled down the light-weight cotton trousers. Kevin wasn't wearing underwear and his cock sprang out with a slight downward bend. “Suck m...” Ty began sucking him before he got the 'me' out. “That's right. Start slow. Nice and slow. Get it all wet.”
After this introduction, Kevin pushed Ty away and smiled. “My turn.” He pushed Ty onto his back and knelt between his legs. “Don't come,” he cautioned. With his mouth and hands he worked his magic and had Ty gasping. He slowed and let Ty back away from the brink and then resumed, sucking until he had Ty gasping with pleasure again. “You like that?” he asked needlessly.
“Yeah, that part … the part when you suck my balls ...yeah ...”
Kevin resumed and eased Ty's legs apart. He pushed Ty's knees up almost to his chest, rolling him up into a ball and exposing his asshole. “Lesson Two. Rimming.” He took his time, getting Ty used to the prodding and pressure of his tongue, opening him up a little. When Kevin paused his rectal assault to stroke Ty's cock, he took it too far. As Ty spurted, Kevin used one hand to stroke his cock and the other to massage his asshole – just an external massage, no penetration – while Ty thrashed about. “You should have warned me,” he said after Ty calmed down.
“I couldn't. It felt so good, happened so fast ...”
“So we'll need to continue Lesson Two later,” Kevin said emotionlessly.
“Can we? When?” Ty was hooked on the sex. He was also preserved on disc. The faint humming of the cameras had been barely audible.
Back at the school Kevin called Chris. “So what did you think of Ty? Did you look at scene?”
“He's a natural. His ass looks great. Get him back here as soon as you can,” Chris urged.
“Right, he likes the sex but he's a little reluctant about the porn part.”
“That's why you get a commission. Make it happen,” Chris said before hanging up.
Lurline Laven sat at one table with Lemuel and a lawyer who was not Jody. Seth and Andrew sat opposite at another with Jody. The small hearing room had a center table for the judge and a few chairs for spectators.
“This is not a courtroom. This is not a trial,” the judge explained. “We are here simply to establish basic facts and see where there may be disputes and where the interests of the parties lies.”
It turned out that there really weren't any disputes as to the facts. Lemuel had twice run away from home, found refuge with Andrew and Seth, and been returned by the authorities to his parents, once to Lurline and once to Jody. The judge struggled at first with the concept that the boy's father and co-custodian was representing the men accused of pandering and kidnapping by his wife; but otherwise the matter seemed cut and dried.
“We're not really married, your honor,” Jody apologized.
“We are, too! The divorce isn't final yet.” Lurline insisted. One point to Lurline. “It's those faggots ...” She glared across the room at Andrew in particular. Minus one for Lurline.
Eric noisily ahem-ed from a spectator's chair. “Your honor,” Jody noted, “Mr. Eric Malone is a third year medical student with a pressing schedule. Could he speak at this time in favor of my clients?”
The judge allowed Jody's request and Eric explained that he had known Andrew and Seth for several years both professionally and personally and that they were models of Western civilization, bastions of democracy, and experienced businessmen. He had decided that 'experienced' was a wiser choice than 'honest' in case his testimony came into question later. It was a good but hedged endorsement. Z was much more generous when it was his turn to speak. The third witness was Rory; as a senior executive of a company whose name was becoming known, he was the most impressive witness, although whether it helped was hard to determine.
The judge asked him how he had come to know Andrew. “At Eric Malone's invitation, I met him at a Mexican restaurant and we had an affair for a year or so.” Even Andrew winced at Rory's honesty. Then the judge asked about Seth. “He more or less broke up my affair with Andrew.”
“See!” Lurline burst out. “It's a nest of faggots! A coven of ...” The judge silenced her; but she had made her point.
“So the question of sexuality seems unavoidable,” the judge intoned. He addressed Lemuel. “What do you know of homosexuality?”
“It's men like my father,” he pointed to Jody, who blushed. “Men who like other men and don't like women like my mother.”
“They do, too! I have dates,” Lurline spouted out. “Lots of them.”
“You didn't have to fuck them all!” Jody exploded. “I'm sorry, your honor. She sets me off.”
“When you visit your 'uncles',” the judge continued, “what do you do there?”
At that point Lemuel became enthusiastic. “Well, Uncle Andrew has been teaching me photography and photo-editing, and he helps me with my homework and we go on field trips with our cameras, and Uncle Seth is a great cook, except we call him Mrs. Hudson, because I'm Lestrade and Uncle Andrew is Holmes and that was the cook's name.”
“Do you mind playing the part of Mrs. Hudson?” the judge asked fighting to keep a straight face.
“We don't use costumes,” Seth was unamused. “It's just a joke.”
Lurline was out of her chair. “What about the foreskin issue? What about that? Huh?” Lurline's outburst was shushed by her alarmed lawyer. The whole room heard his stage whisper, “What foreskin issue?”
“Yes, what foreskin issue?” the bewildered judge asked.
“That … person,” Lurline snarled and pointed at Seth, “has legal custody of Lemmie's foreskin.”
“That's impossible,” the judge exclaimed.
“Not so much as you might think, your honor,” Jody answered and tried to explain.
The judge rolled his eyes. “We'll get back to that.” He instructed the clerk to get the records from the divorce case. “Who is representing the child's welfare? Anyone?” he sighed. A chunky looking black woman signaled her presence. “What say you?”
“Near as I can tell, no harm has ever come to the child, except when his mother's microwave broke and they ate semi-frozen food for a couple of weeks. Pea and carrot creamsicles she called the vegetables.”
The judge's brows were tightly knit as he adjourned the hearing. He spoke his final words, “I regret not specializing in bankruptcy cases.” He paused and reconsidered. “Clerk, strike that from the record.”
“First the Merwyns and now my dad?” Nash asked. He sat next to Steve on Nicky's sofa.
“Your father wasn't in the office. He's fine,” Nicky answered.
“Nicky, what's gonna happen next?”
“I don't know. I can't find Tin-tin. Your father seems unconcerned. Your uncle Nahum IS concerned. And you are … Where have you been anyway?”
Nash smiled at the memory. “With Steve.”
“Maybe you should move in here for a while.”
“I'm ok. Steve's place in Emeryville is a fortress.”
Nicky wasn't sure how fortresses did these days against dynamite, but the phone kept him from asking. “Hello?” Nicky said. “Nahum … Where are you? It's ok, you can tell me.” Nicky listened intently. “Who bought the sweaters from you? No shit … Ok, plan to stay there for a while.”
Nicky put his phone back in his pocket and rooted around in a desk drawer. Eventually he found a large calendar with monthly pages picturing various Alameda businesses. He looked at the current month. A smile appeared and he pointed to a lunar symbol on the calendar. “The Best Western in Half Moon Bay. That's where he and Opal are!” He stared at Nash and mulled over the circumstances. Something was different about Nash, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
“Hey, guys!” Darren got home and greeted them. “Nash, you look great. You must be in love or something!” Nash blushed and squeezed Steve's hand. “Good for you. Let's go out to dinner.”
“Darren … do you think we could stay at your brother's house for a while?” Nicky asked without ado.
“Z's house? Have you been gambling again? With the rent money?”
“Don't joke. There's a problem.” Nicky went over the bombing again for Darren's benefit.
“You know, Nicky - Tim's the one to talk to. He's the cop.”
Nicky paced nervously. “Maybe. I need to talk to somebody. I've got no clue about anything. Who's doing what … what to do about it ... But I don't want anything happening here. To you.”
“Well, let's start with dinner and maybe a glass of something,” Darren proposed.
“Italians,” Nicky threw up his hands. “Food was always my mother's answer to everything.”
“Mine, too. Jewish, though,” Nash said and looked at Darren.
“I keep telling you I'm Austrian. Steve, can you come too? We'll go to the Main Sail on the estuary. I'll call Rory and make reservations. Nicky, you can't wear that.” Darren was totally calm, issuing orders, and carrying most of them out himself.
Rory and Tim got there first, just ahead of Darren and Nicky. A few minutes later Steve and Nash joined the four in the parking lot outside the Main Sail. There was a line to get in the door. Nash made the introductions and noted Steve's occupation.
“A helicopter pilot is good,” Darren commented. “We just might need an extraction team in Half Moon Bay.” This drew alarmed looks from the couple ahead of them, so they talked about the Raiders chances until they were seated.
Over a drink, Nicky explained the sweater problem and then the bombings. Everyone was soberly quiet and then Tim offered an opinion, “Sounds professional, probably internationals, Nicky. No threats. No ransoms. Just unexplained fire bombings. Like stuff on the docks in Oakland now and then. Those cases aren't often solved, I'm afraid. You should probably take Nash's uncle's approach and go away for a while.”
“Steve knows a camp ground near the Russian River,” Nash volunteered.
“It's primitive. Basically nothing but empty land,” Steve explained.
“Or … you could go to Toledo with Tom and Heiko,” Rory suggested. Five people frowned at him simultaneously. “Just saying ...”
“I live in an office building in Emeryville. It's not really residential, but there are living quarters. The boss might agree to let you stay there. He likes a good story.” Steve looked around for approvals.
The waiter approached the table. “Nicky?” he inquired and Nicky raised his hand. “There a man in the lobby who wants to talk to you.”
Nicky glanced at the door and scanned the crowd. “It's Tin-tin.” He walked deliberately to the maitre d's podium and greeted the somber man in a black suit. With apprehension he said the name. "Tsien-tsien." It was the first time he pronounced it correctly.
“Here is the usual room card. Ten-thirty. Bring cherry-flavored condoms.”
Steve and Nash were totally wrapped up in each other. For a while anyway, nothing else mattered a whole lot. There was a lot of sex, of course; but there were quieter moments, too – moments that convinced them that whatever they were getting into was worth the risks.
“You have to stop calling me handsome all the time, Steve. My ego isn't that fragile.”
“Nash, I'm not lying. No, you're not pretty like some teenaged girl's erotic dream, but you are handsome in your own way and you're going to get more handsome as you age. You will look better at thirty than you do today. And you will look better at forty than you did at thirty.” Steve put his arm around Nash. “You have fascinating eyes. And your mouth … I gotta kiss you.” That led to a kiss and another and then erections and then sudden seriousness in Nash.
“We can't fuck all the time.”
“Why not?” Steve protested Nash's attempt to get out of bed and pulled him back onto the matress.
“Because I don't know what's happening in my life. Except for you, of course. That funeral in LA, for example. That was the weirdest thing I've ever been part of.” Nash giggled as Steve kissed his ear.
“So weird you can't stop laughing.”
“You know why I'm laughing. 'Cause you're tickling me.”
“Love me some more,” Steve requested. “Come on. I love the way you love me.” He cradled Nash between his spread legs; his body issued the fuck-me invitation. In the week together, their love-making had slowed down but grown in intensity. With Nash's cock in him, Steve needed only the slightest stimulation to come. “You are so intuitive. You know just what I want,” he said when it was over. “It's like you feel everything I'm feeling.”
“I feel a lot more. I feel like I'm getting to know you … really know you … really love you.” Nash looked down at Steve and felt confusion from his own words. “I'm saying stupid things to you. I must sound like a soap opera. I can't find the words to tell you what I really ...” Steve silenced him with a kiss. “No, let me talk,” Steve protested. “I've never felt like this. I want to explode I'm so happy. It's deep and all the time and complicated and all I know how to say is I love you. Now let me get up.”
“No.” Steve pulled Nash close, almost crushing him. “I'm not letting you go. We don't have to do anything right now. Let's just enjoy it before I'm too old to get it up.”
“You could also ditch the 'I'm-so-old' stuff. You're the one who's still hard.”
“I know. It's amazing. I haven't felt like this … in a while.” Steve was going to say “in years” but he stopped himself when Nash started licking his dick. He watched Nash lap on it like a lollipop and then swallow almost his entire length. “I used to be all about fucking, but you're changing me.”
Nash pulled off Steve and looked in his eyes, “Don't change too much. I like that all-about-fucking part.” He went back to sucking and, after a little prostate massage at the base of Steve's balls, got a small mouthful of cum for a reward. He swallowed and said, “I think I drained you.”
The morning sun had chased all the shadows from the room and brought a new mood to the lovers. They were reluctant to let go of each other, but the brightness of the Emeryville room and the need to piss got them moving. While Steve showered, Nash turned his phone on and saw six texts from Nicky that all basically said CALL ME RIGHT NOW. He called. “Nick?”
“At last, asshole!!! Where are you?”
“Emeryville.” He smiled at Steve, who was doing a semi-sexy dance for him while drying himself.
Nicky ignored the geography. “They blew up your father's office!!!”
“Who? In New York? Is he ok? What about Uncle Nahum?” Nash listened while his look of horror conveyed the bad news to Steve.
“Morrie's ok. He was out when the bomb went off - at four in the morning. The cops think the timer was defective. I told them about LA. They think it's related. This ought to get the FBI into it.”
“What about Nahum?” Nash repeated. “I'm callin' him right now.”
“Nash, wait!” was the last Nash heard from Nicky before Nahum answered, “Nahum Chlomsky.”
“Are you alright? Is Aunt Opal alright?”
“Nash? Is that you? What do you mean alright? Why wouldn't we be?”
“They blew up my father's office! The same people who blew up the Merwyn's.”
“Yes, that was too bad about Lew. Not about your Uncle Bugs, though. That putz.”
“What if they're coming for you next?”
“Me? Why me?”
“Something to do with the sweaters.”
“Feh!. I knew Morris would sell me schlock. Tell Nicky no more sweaters. Did he get the sale in Portola?”
“Uncle Nahum, you gotta be careful. Maybe call the cops before you open the store. Check the doors for tampering. Your car. That kind of stuff.”
“You're a good boy, Nashie Rambler. A sweet boy. No wonder Opal loves you. Will you come to dinner on Sunday?”
“Maybe. I'll call you back,” Nash said. “Did you her all that?” he asked Steve who nodded with concern. He punched more buttons, “Nicky, I'm coming over. Fifteen minutes.”
About that same time, on a transcontinental flight, Tsien-tsien paid for a wi-fi connection and checked the news reports. He grimaced in disappointment at the mistimed detonation. “Cheap Chinese watch,” he muttered.
“I don't know about this, Kevin.” Ty was apprehensive.
“Chill, dude. We're just having a look around. You don't have to do anything.”
“The lights are so bright.”
Kevin's response was a leer. “All the better to find your asshole, said the wolf.” Ty reacted badly to that and Kevin soothed him. “I said chill, dude. We're just having a look around. YOU said you wanted to see the place.”
“Yeah, but right now the porn studio is looking pretty real. I mean … it all happens right here? What's this thing? It looks like a giant wedding cake.”
“Watch this!” Kevin pressed a switch and the giant wedding cake began to revolve slowly. “It's a stage for multilevel shooting. The layers make it possible to perform almost any act without moving much. Here, hop on.” Kevin sat on the lowest layer and began moving slowly away from the stationary Ty. “Hurry up, idiot!” Ty jumped aboard and crawled to Kevin. “It all happens here. The suckin'. The fuckin'. The luuuuuv makin'.”
“Where are the camera men?”
“Various positions. You learn to ignore them. Like they're invisible. And then there are some other fixed cameras here and there.” Kevin was deliberately vague about those cameras.
“No shit. You do it right here ...”
“There are other sets, but, yeah, most of it right here. Your hand is probably resting on somebody's dried cum.” Ty picked his hand up instantly and looked at it; then he inspected the carpeting for telltale signs. “Relax,” Kevin continued and leaned back. “The place is actually cleaner than a hospital operating room.”
Ty managed to relax slightly but remained wary. “So, if I did agree to do something, what would I be agreeing to anyway?”
“Basically you'd sign away all rights to any image of you for all eternity in return for a small one-time payment. Sounds monumental, huh? What happens is they take pictures and sell them; you get a cash payment.”
“But about the um … the acts performed. What about that?”
“A contract that says you agree to have sex for pay is illegal. So you agree to perform to the satisfaction of the director and get fired if you don't. They'll shoot the difficult scenes first, so as not to waste time with you backing out when it finally comes to the sex part.”
Ty gulped. “Man, I don't know why I even wanted to see this place. Now that I'm here, I kinda wanna get the fuck out!”
“Dude!” Kevin answered impatiently. “It's just us. Nothing is gonna happen. And I gotta say the money is amazing.”
“Yeah? What about the sex part?”
“Very clinical. You hardly know it's even happening. Well, you do, but it doesn't mean anything. You have no investment in the outcome, as long as the director likes it. Outcome ...” Kevin laughed. “Yeah, it definitely helps if it cums out!”
“Jeez, I dunno, Kevin. Won't this ruin your future chances at ...”
“At what? Being President? Yeah, a porn past might do that, although Bill Clinton kinda proved otherwise … I bet there are pictures of him somewhere,” Kevin laughed
“You make it sound so easy … like just another way to kill a couple hours ...”
“You got a couple of hours to kill?” Total mischief was in Kevin's voice. He grabbed Ty by the waistband of his jeans and pulled him closer. With practiced skill he popped the buttons and had jeans and boxers down in seconds.
“Jeez! Kevin!” Suddenly modest, Ty tried to move away, but Kevin held him by the butt and swallowed his cock before he could react. It didn't take long to get him hard, and once he was hard it didn't take long to get him purring like a cat. At that point, it was no trick at all to get him completely naked.
“Oh, man ...” Ty sighed, knowing this was most likely a huge mistake but he wasunable to say stop. He lay back on the next higher tier and let Kevin go to work. It was easy to lie back and let it happen. It was just gonna be a quick blowjob, like the time in the dorm room. Ty felt the pleasure and the tension start to build. He was almost there. “Yeah … Suck it!” he coaxed and thrust his dick deeper into Kevin's warm and wet mouth.
“Yeah? What's the rush?” Kevin asked. He backed off, leaving Ty's cock pumping in mid air, while he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. “We can make this another lesson.” He started to open his belt but stopped. “You do it,” he told Ty and stood with his crotch almost in Ty's mouth. Ty tentatively reached toward him. “Don't you want to know if I'm hard first?” Kevin licked his lips and added, “Touch me. Feel it.” Ty touched gently and Kevin pressed his hardness against the cupped hand. “Come on, Ty. Do it!” He waited for Ty's response.
The sounds of their breathing seemed loud. Ty overcame his caution and felt the full extent of Kevin's erection, stroking it through the interfering fabric. He could see the outline of the straining penis through the cloth. He opened the belt and fly and pulled down the light-weight cotton trousers. Kevin wasn't wearing underwear and his cock sprang out with a slight downward bend. “Suck m...” Ty began sucking him before he got the 'me' out. “That's right. Start slow. Nice and slow. Get it all wet.”
After this introduction, Kevin pushed Ty away and smiled. “My turn.” He pushed Ty onto his back and knelt between his legs. “Don't come,” he cautioned. With his mouth and hands he worked his magic and had Ty gasping. He slowed and let Ty back away from the brink and then resumed, sucking until he had Ty gasping with pleasure again. “You like that?” he asked needlessly.
“Yeah, that part … the part when you suck my balls ...yeah ...”
Kevin resumed and eased Ty's legs apart. He pushed Ty's knees up almost to his chest, rolling him up into a ball and exposing his asshole. “Lesson Two. Rimming.” He took his time, getting Ty used to the prodding and pressure of his tongue, opening him up a little. When Kevin paused his rectal assault to stroke Ty's cock, he took it too far. As Ty spurted, Kevin used one hand to stroke his cock and the other to massage his asshole – just an external massage, no penetration – while Ty thrashed about. “You should have warned me,” he said after Ty calmed down.
“I couldn't. It felt so good, happened so fast ...”
“So we'll need to continue Lesson Two later,” Kevin said emotionlessly.
“Can we? When?” Ty was hooked on the sex. He was also preserved on disc. The faint humming of the cameras had been barely audible.
Back at the school Kevin called Chris. “So what did you think of Ty? Did you look at scene?”
“He's a natural. His ass looks great. Get him back here as soon as you can,” Chris urged.
“Right, he likes the sex but he's a little reluctant about the porn part.”
“That's why you get a commission. Make it happen,” Chris said before hanging up.
Lurline Laven sat at one table with Lemuel and a lawyer who was not Jody. Seth and Andrew sat opposite at another with Jody. The small hearing room had a center table for the judge and a few chairs for spectators.
“This is not a courtroom. This is not a trial,” the judge explained. “We are here simply to establish basic facts and see where there may be disputes and where the interests of the parties lies.”
It turned out that there really weren't any disputes as to the facts. Lemuel had twice run away from home, found refuge with Andrew and Seth, and been returned by the authorities to his parents, once to Lurline and once to Jody. The judge struggled at first with the concept that the boy's father and co-custodian was representing the men accused of pandering and kidnapping by his wife; but otherwise the matter seemed cut and dried.
“We're not really married, your honor,” Jody apologized.
“We are, too! The divorce isn't final yet.” Lurline insisted. One point to Lurline. “It's those faggots ...” She glared across the room at Andrew in particular. Minus one for Lurline.
Eric noisily ahem-ed from a spectator's chair. “Your honor,” Jody noted, “Mr. Eric Malone is a third year medical student with a pressing schedule. Could he speak at this time in favor of my clients?”
The judge allowed Jody's request and Eric explained that he had known Andrew and Seth for several years both professionally and personally and that they were models of Western civilization, bastions of democracy, and experienced businessmen. He had decided that 'experienced' was a wiser choice than 'honest' in case his testimony came into question later. It was a good but hedged endorsement. Z was much more generous when it was his turn to speak. The third witness was Rory; as a senior executive of a company whose name was becoming known, he was the most impressive witness, although whether it helped was hard to determine.
The judge asked him how he had come to know Andrew. “At Eric Malone's invitation, I met him at a Mexican restaurant and we had an affair for a year or so.” Even Andrew winced at Rory's honesty. Then the judge asked about Seth. “He more or less broke up my affair with Andrew.”
“See!” Lurline burst out. “It's a nest of faggots! A coven of ...” The judge silenced her; but she had made her point.
“So the question of sexuality seems unavoidable,” the judge intoned. He addressed Lemuel. “What do you know of homosexuality?”
“It's men like my father,” he pointed to Jody, who blushed. “Men who like other men and don't like women like my mother.”
“They do, too! I have dates,” Lurline spouted out. “Lots of them.”
“You didn't have to fuck them all!” Jody exploded. “I'm sorry, your honor. She sets me off.”
“When you visit your 'uncles',” the judge continued, “what do you do there?”
At that point Lemuel became enthusiastic. “Well, Uncle Andrew has been teaching me photography and photo-editing, and he helps me with my homework and we go on field trips with our cameras, and Uncle Seth is a great cook, except we call him Mrs. Hudson, because I'm Lestrade and Uncle Andrew is Holmes and that was the cook's name.”
“Do you mind playing the part of Mrs. Hudson?” the judge asked fighting to keep a straight face.
“We don't use costumes,” Seth was unamused. “It's just a joke.”
Lurline was out of her chair. “What about the foreskin issue? What about that? Huh?” Lurline's outburst was shushed by her alarmed lawyer. The whole room heard his stage whisper, “What foreskin issue?”
“Yes, what foreskin issue?” the bewildered judge asked.
“That … person,” Lurline snarled and pointed at Seth, “has legal custody of Lemmie's foreskin.”
“That's impossible,” the judge exclaimed.
“Not so much as you might think, your honor,” Jody answered and tried to explain.
The judge rolled his eyes. “We'll get back to that.” He instructed the clerk to get the records from the divorce case. “Who is representing the child's welfare? Anyone?” he sighed. A chunky looking black woman signaled her presence. “What say you?”
“Near as I can tell, no harm has ever come to the child, except when his mother's microwave broke and they ate semi-frozen food for a couple of weeks. Pea and carrot creamsicles she called the vegetables.”
The judge's brows were tightly knit as he adjourned the hearing. He spoke his final words, “I regret not specializing in bankruptcy cases.” He paused and reconsidered. “Clerk, strike that from the record.”
“First the Merwyns and now my dad?” Nash asked. He sat next to Steve on Nicky's sofa.
“Your father wasn't in the office. He's fine,” Nicky answered.
“Nicky, what's gonna happen next?”
“I don't know. I can't find Tin-tin. Your father seems unconcerned. Your uncle Nahum IS concerned. And you are … Where have you been anyway?”
Nash smiled at the memory. “With Steve.”
“Maybe you should move in here for a while.”
“I'm ok. Steve's place in Emeryville is a fortress.”
Nicky wasn't sure how fortresses did these days against dynamite, but the phone kept him from asking. “Hello?” Nicky said. “Nahum … Where are you? It's ok, you can tell me.” Nicky listened intently. “Who bought the sweaters from you? No shit … Ok, plan to stay there for a while.”
Nicky put his phone back in his pocket and rooted around in a desk drawer. Eventually he found a large calendar with monthly pages picturing various Alameda businesses. He looked at the current month. A smile appeared and he pointed to a lunar symbol on the calendar. “The Best Western in Half Moon Bay. That's where he and Opal are!” He stared at Nash and mulled over the circumstances. Something was different about Nash, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
“Hey, guys!” Darren got home and greeted them. “Nash, you look great. You must be in love or something!” Nash blushed and squeezed Steve's hand. “Good for you. Let's go out to dinner.”
“Darren … do you think we could stay at your brother's house for a while?” Nicky asked without ado.
“Z's house? Have you been gambling again? With the rent money?”
“Don't joke. There's a problem.” Nicky went over the bombing again for Darren's benefit.
“You know, Nicky - Tim's the one to talk to. He's the cop.”
Nicky paced nervously. “Maybe. I need to talk to somebody. I've got no clue about anything. Who's doing what … what to do about it ... But I don't want anything happening here. To you.”
“Well, let's start with dinner and maybe a glass of something,” Darren proposed.
“Italians,” Nicky threw up his hands. “Food was always my mother's answer to everything.”
“Mine, too. Jewish, though,” Nash said and looked at Darren.
“I keep telling you I'm Austrian. Steve, can you come too? We'll go to the Main Sail on the estuary. I'll call Rory and make reservations. Nicky, you can't wear that.” Darren was totally calm, issuing orders, and carrying most of them out himself.
Rory and Tim got there first, just ahead of Darren and Nicky. A few minutes later Steve and Nash joined the four in the parking lot outside the Main Sail. There was a line to get in the door. Nash made the introductions and noted Steve's occupation.
“A helicopter pilot is good,” Darren commented. “We just might need an extraction team in Half Moon Bay.” This drew alarmed looks from the couple ahead of them, so they talked about the Raiders chances until they were seated.
Over a drink, Nicky explained the sweater problem and then the bombings. Everyone was soberly quiet and then Tim offered an opinion, “Sounds professional, probably internationals, Nicky. No threats. No ransoms. Just unexplained fire bombings. Like stuff on the docks in Oakland now and then. Those cases aren't often solved, I'm afraid. You should probably take Nash's uncle's approach and go away for a while.”
“Steve knows a camp ground near the Russian River,” Nash volunteered.
“It's primitive. Basically nothing but empty land,” Steve explained.
“Or … you could go to Toledo with Tom and Heiko,” Rory suggested. Five people frowned at him simultaneously. “Just saying ...”
“I live in an office building in Emeryville. It's not really residential, but there are living quarters. The boss might agree to let you stay there. He likes a good story.” Steve looked around for approvals.
The waiter approached the table. “Nicky?” he inquired and Nicky raised his hand. “There a man in the lobby who wants to talk to you.”
Nicky glanced at the door and scanned the crowd. “It's Tin-tin.” He walked deliberately to the maitre d's podium and greeted the somber man in a black suit. With apprehension he said the name. "Tsien-tsien." It was the first time he pronounced it correctly.
“Here is the usual room card. Ten-thirty. Bring cherry-flavored condoms.”
