Rory's Stories

[EasyRory]

Session Fifty-Three

The day after Christmas Eric and Z were sitting at their kitchen table. Eric was paging through a folio of photographs Z had given him as a Christmas present. “Wow. These are great. When were they taken? A while ago, huh? I see Cal in some.”

“Various times. I never noticed Chris taking them. Too wrapped up in the game, I guess.”

“Disney never made lacrosse look this good. We're all in here. I'm going to take it to the hospital to show Luke.” Eric's attempt to give Z a demonstrative thank-you was interrupted.

Darren breezed into Z's tidy kitchen with two bag of groceries. “These are things I mostly eat, so I thought I'd save you the trouble. And there's some other stuff, too. Hi, Eric. Z, do you remember Grandma's brachiole? Do you think you could make it? Joe recommended the beef.”

“Joe?”

“Joe Scalise at the grocery store.” Eric and Z exchanged a raised-eyebrow glance. “He said flank steak is what the recipes say but rump roast is better and 'pound the hell out of it' he said.” Darren began unpacking and putting away his purchases.

“I guess I could try. Brachiole is basically braised meat.”

“Well, our version is more complicated. Grandpa said the brachiole was really what he called involtini and Grandma called it rouladen, but everybody else in the neighborhood called it brachiole, so she switched. Grandma's recipe was more German than Italian, which kinda makes sense since her parents were from Austria. Grandpa said his parents were from Austria, too, but we're ethnically Italian. Our name used to be Alvintzi. His grandparents bailed after one Balkan war too many.” Darren stopped for a breath.

“Did you know all that? I never knew any of that stuff. Grandpa's really fun to talk to.” Darren put a bottle of grapefruit juice away and folded up the empty bags.

“When did he tell you that?”

“Yesterday; I went to see him. He said you were there the day before.”

“Yes, I figured Dad might be visiting the home yesterday.” Z paused and looked at Eric who was looking at Darren as if he had seen a vision.

“No,” Darren said, “At least, he wasn't there before I was. Grandpa says he'd like to see us. Dad, I mean, not Grandpa.”

“Okaaaay ... as long as he doesn't issue a list of non-negotiable demands about how I live my life.” Z's tone had a stoney-hard edge.

“Luke said we should love each other.”

“That's good advice, but Luke never met Dad,” Z concluded.

“Speaking of problem families,” Eric said to Darren, “You may be getting a new roommate. Namely, my mother. She is thinking of sharing Carolyn's house. Financially, it would be good for both of them.”

“Fine with me. I thought your mother was married to some rich guy in Moraga.”

“She's looking for an exit, I think. She drinks way less now and I guess seeing him when she's sober isn't a pretty sight. I could have told her that five years ago. In fact, I think I did tell her that five years ago.”

“When she needs help moving, let me know. Right now I'm going to see Rory.”

“Z, I'm getting to like your little brother more all the time,” Eric said as he watched the Audi drive away.

“Yes. Wine and Darren benefit from age.” Z stuffed a book back into a cabinet. “There's nothing about brachiole in this damn cookbook.”

“Zachary Alvintzi, I still haven't thanked you properly for the pictures.” Eric took Z into his arms.

Larry put one foot in the kitchen, spun on his heel, and called upstairs, “Grab a jacket, Cal. We're going out for breakfast.”

Tim read the coroner's report confirming that Dorrance had died of gunshot wounds not a traffic accident. A life going nowhere under conditions growing worse had come to an end. What a waste, Tim thought. One bullet did little harm; one lodged in his left lung; and the killer slug nicked his heart. He bled to death. It would have taken a while. It would have been messy and painful, unless he had taken enough drugs. Tim wasn't sure if the meth level in the lab report was enough to kill all the pain. I hope so, he thought.

“Neil,” he greeted his partner. “Have a look at this. How was your Christmas?”

Neil picked up the report. “Amazing. Jerry and I went to the hospital cafeteria after Luke ...” His voice trailed off. “We dumped my flask into a couple of coffees and talked out what happened. A couple of nurses getting off duty joined us and said they wouldn't rat us out if we shared, so we did. One thing led to another and we ended up at Jerry's place. The four of us.”

“Four.” Tim's eyes got bigger with silent questions.

“Wait, now. It wasn't an orgy. It was just two couples who happened to be in the same room. There were way kinkier frat parties – even at St. Mary's, I bet.” Neil defensively threw in Tim's alma mater.

“Glad you had a good time. Come on. Today, I think we need to figure out where Dorrance was when he was shot.”

The site of the Ahearns' accident was still cordoned off but nothing stood out as remarkable. There was a little blood on the pavement, but not the amount typical of multiple wounds. “He must have been transported here and dumped between parked cars,” Tim suggested. They scoured the area again but found nothing.

They moved up the beach and walked down every square foot of Dorrance's usual haunt in Washington Park as well as nearby parking places; but turned up nothing. Tim saw another lost soul; you could call him that if you're feeling kind or whacked-out meth-freak if you're not. The guy became wary as Tim and Neil approached; he turned up his collar and prepared to walk away into the cold wind.

Without preliminaries, Tim told the guy, “Dorrance is dead. Did you know?” The guys eyes were shifty, his body was shifty, everything about him was edgy.

“Dead?” He paused gauging Tim and Neil. “It figures. I warned him about hustling. He said a dude in a Japanese car is a safe score. Always go for the a guy in an Acura, he said.” The guy pronounced it AK-rah and then began to shiver.

“He had a regular who drove an Acura?”

“Regular? I dunno. A couple times for sure. You interested in anything, Mister?” The guy eyed Tim up and down.

“I'm a police officer, Tim Dixon. This is my partner, Neil Corrigan.” Tim watched the poor guy panic. “Take it easy. We're not looking for you. Just trying to find out what happened to Ted Dorrance.”

“Poor Dorey. He knew this was coming and I don't think he cared.”

“Why do you think he knew in advance?” Tim gave the man a five dollar bill. “For food, ok?”

“Can't buy much for five.” Tim peeled off another five. “Thanks. He said he'd already seen the highest high, that he was just trying to prolong it. Nothing lasts. When it's over, it's over. That kind of stuff. He didn't even plan his next buy.”

“Did he say whether the Acura guy made him any promises? Any dates?”

“I don't know, but if the guy in the Acura didn't do it, it musta been random.”

“Sad, huh?” Tim asked Neil as the drove away.

“Who? Dorrance or your new friend, Max Centuate? That's gotta be an alias.”

After questioning Dorrance's parents and learning nothing new, Tim returned to the station house to write up his findings. Neil changed out of his uniform and put on sweats. He was going to meet Jerry at Rittler Park and then further investigate some nurses when they were done.

Alex was sent by his mother to buy some pastries. While he waited for his purchase to be rung up, he noticed a cake that had “Happy Birthday, Garth” iced on the top; the cake was marked down to almost nothing. “Why is the cake so cheap?” he asked.

“We spelled the name wrong. It was supposed to be Gareth.” The baker explained the rest of the story while Alex waited.

“I'll take the cake.”

“I bet you will.” The baker tried to keep his eyes off Alex's butt.

He dumped his mother's pastries, picked up a couple other items, and then wondered where she was. Seeing his chance, he left her a note that he had borrowed her car and left. After a forty minute drive, he climbed the stairs of Gareth's apartment and knocked on the door. He waited and knocked again. Still nothing. His plan suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea. One more time, he thought and pounded on the door. “Alright,” he heard come from inside.

Gareth didn't look pleased. “A headache?” Alex asked.

“A hangover to be precise,” came the reply.

“I brought you some stuff. Might help the hangover.”

Reluctantly Gareth let Alex in. “You're seeing me at my worst,” Gareth said as he padded back into his bedroom in droopy boxers and a wife beater.

“Go back to bed. I'll show you what I have in a second.” Gareth didn't need convincing and gingerly slid back under the covers, trying not to move his head more than necessary. Alex arrived bedside with a glass of water and three pills. “Here, I brought these in case your dick still hurt, but I bet they work on headaches, too. My dad loves 'em.”

“What are they?” Gareth asked after he had swallowed them.

“One Celebrex and two Valiums.”

“Two Valiums.” Gareth chuckled and then held his head. “They may not cure my headache but I sure won't care.” Alex sat looking expectantly at Gareth. “What are you looking at? The pills don't work that fast.”

Alex smiled. “Here's what else I got you.” He let Gareth open the cake box.

“You misspelled my name.”

“No, the baker did, it was supposed to be Gareth. “Gareth and Lynette”, for two bulldogs.”

“Two bulldogs named Gareth and Lynette? Where is this bakery?” Gareth didn't really listen to the answer. He remembered hearing the linked names in a boring English movie once; his curiosity about them led him to an equally boring poem by an old homosexual Englishman. “Gareth and Lynette ... Thanks, Alex, from both of us.” Gareth smiled and relaxed. “My head still hurts, but now the pain is more academic than killer.”

“Good,” Alex said earnestly; “How is your dick?”

Gareth's medication failed to dull his shame over the day before; the failed sexcapade ranked as a major disaster. “What are you doing?” he asked Alex.

Alex was taking off his clothes, but that was a minor detail. “I'm getting in bed with you and I'm going to hug you until you can forget about yesterday.... There … Closer … Now, are you still embarrassed?”

“Yes, yesterday was such a fiasco.”

“I didn't think so. I loved it.” Alex gave Gareth a squeeze and kissed his neck since it was right there and all he could reach easily. “I couldn't have had a better teacher.”

“Can you be real?”

“Now I'm embarrassed,” Alex said. “Are you making fun of me?”

Gareth's heart melted. “Oh, no, Alex. I'm not doing that at all. I just mean you're too good to be true. Hug me all you want. I like it, too. Do I feel something else that's very real? Poking me in the stomach?”

“You could feel it better if you were naked.”

Gareth let Alex pull off his shirt. He wiggled out of the boxers on his own. He happily snuggled back into Alex's embrace. One kiss led to another. Of course, it feels better naked; he's absolutely right, Gareth thought; and that led to more kissing. “Very real,” Gareth confirmed the stomach poke and then he took Alex's cock in his hand. “You have ...” His words were interrupted by Alex's kisses. “... a very … nice cock ... Mmmm ...”

“Want me to blow you again? Then I thought we could finish up what we started.” Alex held Gareth's cock in his hand.

Gareth sighed with mental pleasure. He's beyond too good to be true; he's the best thing I've ever had. Or has that the Valium taken over, he wondered. “I told some friends about you last night, Alex. And they said you'd end up breaking my heart.”

“Why would I break your heart? I was hoping you'd … you know... break my cherry.”

“Oh ...” Gareth laughed out loud, feeling the full effects of the valium. Unfortunately, one of those effects can be impotence. Yesterday's limp noodle showed the exact same posture today. “I don't know about that. These pills seem to be erection killers. But if you wanted to improve your technique, I'd be happy to let you practice.”

“Practice what?” Alex wanted more explicit guidance.

“Anything you want; but remember how it felt better when you slowed down?” Alex vigorously nodded. “Well, if you go even slower, it'll feel better for me.”

Alex slow-fucked Gareth for the next half-hour in several positions. Finally Gareth was on all fours, taking it in the rear, an optimal position for maximum prostate stimulation given the slight downward curve of Alex's cock. Alex did a reach-around and found Gareth still limp but dripping. Gareth groaned at the touch and felt Alex spread the slick liquid all over his cock. Without ever being hard, he began pumping sperm. He cried out in shock as much as in pleasure at what was happening. Alex held him tight as he bucked. The motion triggered Alex's orgasm, and their cries matched in intensity. For the drugged party, the pleasure seemed to go on and on as Alex took complete possession of his body. Do not … do not … do not tell him you love him, Gareth ordered himself.

For the ecstatic but sober party, there was no question. He told his willing bottom, “That was by mathematical necessity either the best or the second best fuck I've ever hard.” Gareth thought the juvenile humor was sheer genius; they laughed and kissed and laughed some more. And then kissed some more and then it became clear. Gareth knew Alex would break his heart; and I don't care, he thought; I want this feeling so much.

Later that night after Alex had left and after the Valium had mostly worn off, Gareth's drinking companions from the previous evening came to survey the ruins.

“Why aren't you hung over, Gareth dear? I sure am.”

Gareth explained today's visit, setting off his friends.

“Valium? Where did you meet this angel … of death?”

“He fucked you again? You're doomed, sweetie. Flayed and fricasseed. Boxed and bagged. You might as well buy the farm.”

Gareth tried to defend his actions, but his friends were unsparing.

“Only twenty-eight? Hah! You were twenty-eight when I met you … when? … Three years ago?”

“You're thirty-three if you're a day. Prime time for feeling vulnerable. This kid is going to shred you.”

“Of course … he'll be a lot of fun. He'll make you feel eighteen, too. For a while.”

“Alright, nineteen. Same difference. You will fall for him like a ton of bricks and he'll break your heart. You cannot believe how much it will hurt.”

Gareth couldn't answer. His friends were appalled but they spoke from experience.

“You're going to have such a good time.”

“I'd do the exact same thing. There's nothing like being the pool a nineteen-year-old dives into.”

“You already love him, don't you? We'll be here to help you pick up the pieces, sweetie.”

“I'm so jealous. Do you have a picture?”

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
A very nice follow up afternoon delight for our hot 'n hungry for love Alex, and our "older" but still going head over heels Gareth.

The background catching up on Ted's death, discussing their "Austrian Braciole", the Nurses, visiting Luke, and, what were Eric and Z doing in the kitchen to make Larry do a quit stop and pivot to tell Cal they were eating out? lol.

Thanks!

 

[EasyRory]

Session 54

The lax game resumed the day after Christmas; and the next day some changes were plain and became even more obvious as the week progressed. There was a new maturity in Alex that almost showed in his face; and there was an open bromance going on between Jerry and Neil. Alex offered no explanation, not even when Darren asked him; but Jerry and Neil freely shared tales of their foursomes.

Mark would miss the game one day and Eric the next; but when they played it was with a single-minded intensity. Their nights spent with Luke were harder than they expected. It wasn't just sleeping alone in a strange bed; it was Luke's physical and mental failings. Luke's vomiting, cramps, tears, and inevitable self-pity as he disintegrated were harder to witness than they ever expected. Their inability to do much for his physical pain and their irrelevance to his mental anguish made their nights torture with little sleep. So when they played lax, they played all out, seeking utter exhaustion, both physical and mental. Amid all the difficulties, the two of them treasured the after work and mid-evening visits by others.

Rory came regularly and his visits were good for Luke. Even though Luke had never been close to Rory, their casual friendship became focused in the final days. Rory explained over a few nights' visits that when he had problems with his relationships he always looked to Luke for a sense of benign and affectionate detachment. “You were my example, not my preacher,” Rory told Luke and it helped. Luke always found a few peaceful hours after a visit from Rory.

Darren made Luke smile when he came. His very upbeat mood of late buoyed everyone, not just Luke. His rambling enthusiasm about little things in his life didn't relate to anything within the walls of the hospital and cheered his listeners, whoever they were. Z's problems making brachiole were elaborately magnified by Darren into the trials of Job. It wasn't completely true that Z set fire to the kitchen, although the smell of smoke lingered for days; but as Darren told it Luke could see flames licking the walls, panic, and the charred remains of the rump roast slices in a burnt pan. Luke asked to hear the story twice.

Z was actually the difficult visitor. When Luke developed difficulty speaking, he would signal Eric and Z to stand close together and then Luke would cry from happiness, not sorrow. One sort of tears led to the other sort, making Z's visits nostalgic but poignant and finally utterly sad.

On New Year's Eve, Luke died peacefully of a heart attack; a couple minutes of acute chest pain ended his enduring torture. The heart attack was unrelated to the ALS, completely unrelated; but not much was said or done about it. It's not uncommon for terminal cases to die of seemingly unrelated complications. Often the cause is natural; perhaps, in a way, it is the body's acknowledgment of defeat. Occasionally, especially among medical professionals, the body is helped to reach its conclusion. Eric would never listen to any such speculation and would walk away from a conversation that even hinted at such an assisted outcome. Nevertheless, Luke's case was not unique in the hospital and there was talk, mostly sympathetic and approving.

Of course there were tears; even when death is expected, the actual event is a wrenching intrusion, leaving those most involved with a sudden aching emptiness. For a time Mark and Eric sat in Luke's apartment saying little, sometimes crying, supporting each other, looking at the beautiful bay Luke had loved. As the New Year's daylight faded, Mark stood, put Luke's silver bracelet in his pocket, and said, “Let's go, old friend. The bracelet is all I want. Let's get out of here.” He spent one night in the attic at Eric's and then found a place of his own.

On January 2, bright and early Rory, Darren, and Tom arrived at the Cantor Center to see Dr. von Allmen. Gabriel Kristen asked Tom if he was Swiss and was disappointed by Tom's negative reply. Dr. von Allmen was impressed to see Tom, telling Rory that Rory's staff was bigger than his own. He readily agreed to the terms of the agreement and said that if all went well he had found a donor willing to pay for the optional work. The meeting ended before ten thirty.

On the way back to Alameda, Darren got a call from Alex. “Heiko and Daegan are getting into SFO about four thirty. Want to go with me to pick them up?”

Heiko! After a hurried consultation with Rory, Darren said he'd be ready anytime after lunch. Darren tried not to drool or do anything obvious, but he couldn't get that one session with Heiko out of his mind. Their physical sex had been minimal, but the feeling that Heiko, once committed, would commit totally was on Darren's mind. Alex proposed that they leave Alameda about three-thirty and if they were a little late, that would be ok since customs and immigration would eat up a half hour at least. “If you feel like a sauna, come on over early,” Alex suggested.

Alex's modified version of the classic Scandinavian event was to soak in the hot tub, jump into the unheated swimming pool, and then repeat. A proper sauna would involve more extreme temperatures, an ice covered lake, and a super-heated cedar shed; but accuracy wasn't important. The shocks of heat and cold as tempered by the Alameda climate were enough to keep the blood flowing in the two young men involved. Nudity would have been proper to a sauna also, but Alex's mother was home; so the exercise was encumbered by some baggy board shorts.

“What's up with you, Alex? You seem different.” Alex wasn't in any hurry to answer. “If I'm being too nosy, just tell me to shut up. But you do seem different – in a good way.”

“I met someone. It's not a big secret; I just don't know what to say about it.”

“Want to give me a hint?”

“He's older and a lot more experienced than I am.”

“That's probably a good thing. I learned mostly from Seth, who didn't know much more than I did. We made tons of mistakes. Tons!” Darren emphasized, thinking back to Seth's fumbling initial attempts at sex.

That drew a cute smile but still no comment from Alex, followed by, “We better get going. It's after three.”

As they dried off and changed back into street clothes Darren noticed Alex was less shy about nudity. He wasn't flaunting himself, but he didn't rush to pull his underwear on either. Darren complimented him on having a tight, hot body and Alex just said thanks. No embarrassment, no hiding anything. “Especially your ass,” Darren added and at last Alex laughed outright.

“That's what Andrew said. He talked me into a photo shoot. My ass ... my “tail”, as he called it, is going to be the tailpiece in a book.”

“Tailpipe?”

“Tailpiece. The last photograph in a book. I think I get labeled 'The End'.”

Another reminder of mental midgetry. Acalanes High School, fuck you! Is midgetry even a word, wondered Darren. He wasn't sure. It took thoughts of Heiko to get him out of his resulting funk. But even that came with an immediate caution the minute he saw Heiko emerge from customs.

Heiko and Daegan seemed different. The why of that wasn't long in coming. Alex was driving with Darren in the other front seat. Darren turned to make a point to Heiko and saw him kissing Daegan. Not one of those little Euro on the cheek numbers either. Full out, on the mouth, tongues, raging passion kissing. Alex saw it in the rear view mirror.

“That demonstration seemed like the best way to tell you guys about what we've been doing,” Daegan said.

“And it's all your fault, Darren,” added Heiko.

“More details, please; I can't be looking in the rear view mirror for the whole trip.”

“Where to start ...” mused Heiko. “I guess with our landing in Shannon because of weather. The airline was going to put us up in some motel but Daegan said he knew a castle nearby that was on the ocean and would be more fun.”

“Ta fookin' Oyrish castle,” Daegan said in a broad accent, “wasn't heated. The only way to stay warm in the bedroom was to get into bed. And I'll always thank my countrymen for that.”

“But what has that got to do with Darren?” Alex asked.

“Remember the night before the trip when we all met on the street and I offered to stay with Darren?” Heiko asked.

“Well, I sure remembered it and I thought about it,” Daegan took over the story. “I asked Henrik here if he was serious about staying with Darren. Yes, he said. Would you have had sex with him? I asked. Yes, if he wanted to, he told me. A lot of things went through my head, mostly that I was gonna lose my friend one way or another. And I realized that was the last thing I wanted to happen.” Heiko kissed him again, delaying the story. “So I asked Heiko to do to me what he would have done with Darren.” They kissed again and then laughed at their shared memory.

“Of course, I just lay in bed not believing a thing,” Heiko said, “until he raped me.”

“I did not!” Daegan protested. “That part came later.”

“Oh my God, does this mean I have to listen to the sound of fucking all night?” Alex asked, laughing. “That's a small bedroom for three people, especially if two of them are ...”

“Isn't this the exit, Alex?” Darren interjected as much to change the subject as to correct Alex's driving.

“Oh, Jeez, I almost missed it,” Alex said still laughing.

“So thanks for bringing us together, Darren,” Daegan concluded.

“You decided for sure on Stanford, Heiko?” Alex asked.

“Daegan decided for me.”

Darren hid his hurt over Heiko's new arrangement during the ride but found a reason to leave as soon as they got back to Alex's. Heiko's unavailability made him ever more attractive and Darren didn't need a constant reminder of his inability to find a friend. It wasn't a killer heart-break for him, but it stung. He decided to see if Rory was home and offer to help with their trip.

Rory was glad for the help but his appearance, in old, clingy sweats emphasizing his body's contours and messed up, freshly-washed hair that shone brightly with its red highlighs, reminded Darren of his old crush on Rory. He felt a little jealous of Tim and then became annoyed with himself for even thinking that way. Despite this distraction, he did give Rory some ideas for honing their presentation and got more than just Rory's thanks.

“You seem a little down, Darren. Anything I can help with?”

“Post-holiday blues maybe. And Luke's death. Plus I realized my education hasn't been the greatest. Just a bunch of stuff all at once. I'll be ok.”

“You know what helps? Think of the good stuff in your life. Luke was happy; he said so the day before he died. Eric and Z are so proud of you. Everybody at work likes you and, despite your lack of formal education, you're really intelligent – you could ace college if you wanted to. Why are you suddenly unhappy with your education?”

“I don't know who Democritus is.”

“An old Greek philosopher with a very mechanical view of life. It turned out he contributed more to science than to philosophy.

“You know that. Everybody seems to know that. I don't know shit.”

“But you know you don't know; other people haven't got a clue. And your desire for knowledge will drive you; you will always want to learn more, and on that path, you will be a very happy man.” Rory thought for a second. “Ok, I get it. Lack of education is just one thing. You're also a little lacking in the love department, huh?”

“Not just lacking. Everybody I get interested in hooks up with somebody else.”

“I'm no expert at love. All I can tell you is don't look too hard. It'll happen.” Rory hugged Darren and Darren pulled away as if he had been scalded.

“Rory, you're way too hot to be giving people casual hugs.” Darren laughed the minute he said that and Rory hugged him again anyway. Darren concentrated on how great Rory's hair smelled and not how great his body felt.

He stopped at Z's on his way home and found his brother and Eric scrubbing the kitchen walls. Again. “It still smells,” Z said, referring to the brachiole disaster. Darren grabbed a cloth and helped. “I don't know how to do the ceiling. This house has such high ceilings,” Z complained.

“Rory really is a genius,” Darren said as he scrubbed. Eric and Z gave each other a now-what look; but Darren offered no amplification.

The big trip came two days later. Rory, Darren and Tom arrived in Washington and made their presentation to the Smithsonian. The man who listened to them was the a curator for the Freer Gallery, a strange mix of Asian and American art reflecting the taste of its donor. It was a popular museum, however, and no one saw any need to change things.

“I think what we'll have to do initially is hire you as a warehouse inventory team,” Brent Michaels said. “I can't sell it as an electronic records project because the Library of Congress has the lead and has been working on that for us.” He rolled his eyes. “For years... But I got such good reports on your work that I don't want to miss the chance to get you onboard. We'll oh-by-the-way them at the LC.”

Darren had never heard oh-by-the-way used as a verb before. “Washington jargon,” Michaels explained. “It means that, as a byproduct of your inventory effort, you'll oh-by-the-way deliver an IT solution. Then the bureaucrats will accept it, although we never went through the proper IT wickets.”

“Wickets?”

Rory worried that Darren was asking too many questions, but Michaels didn't seem to mind answering him. “Bureaucratic obstacles you might say; steps in the approval process.”

“And the bureaucrats are everywhere,” Darren joked and Michaels appreciated it.

“Remember those people at school ... you said hello but didn't really want to know them very well?”

“Yes,” Darren nodded, paying rapt attention.

“Well, those people all moved to Washington and they are running the government.”

“You mean the government is run by assholes?”

“Darren ...” Rory cautioned.

“And I'm afraid I'm one of them,” Michaels added with a chuckle, charmed by Darren's innocence in the ways of the Emerald City. Turning reluctantly to Rory, he said that even for an inventory team he needed some approval, but that part should be easy. “Can we meet again tomorrow?”

Rory's answer to that was easy and obvious; all the three Alamedans needed was another night at their hotel; and that was easy, too. Washington's January weather kept the tourist crowds low. They parted with Michaels expressing his hope that the working team would include Tom and Darren.

“He just added me for the hell of it. He's in it for you, Darren – as usual; and he might even be straight.” Tom's analysis more or less matched Rory's. “Or not,” Tom added and Rory agreed with that possibility too.

“Rory, I'm going to be twenty-one in a couple weeks. Please don't threaten this guy,” Darren asked. “I can take care of myself, assuming you want me to work this job.”

Rory didn't commit but said, “Maybe he can teach you about old Greeks.”

Darren's phone vibrated and he looked at the caller. Are old Greeks much different from old Jews, Darren wondered, trying to imagine Morrie dressed in a tunic playing a lyre. “Hi, Nicky.”

“Darren, you answered. I expected voice mail. Isn't it dawn or something in California?”

“I'm in Washington.”

“How long? We'll be there tomorrow meeting with the Spanish guys.”

“I think we were going to leave tomorrow.”

“Stay? Please? The Spanish guys will love you. One more night?”

The extension was ok with Rory and Nicky's details were simple – just show up the St. Regis at two o'clock. On K Street. K Street? Couldn't they think up real names in Washington? One more night meant one night with Morrie, Darren guessed. He likes me, he's a decent enough fuck, I could be doing worse.

That night Rory stayed at the hotel to do some paperwork but Tom and Darren went out to the bar that would have been the site of Darren's now-cancelled Zara show. On a weekend night the place would have been jumping, but on a Tuesday it was dismal. They tried another nearby place but that wasn't much better.

“Some nice looking guys, though – you have to give DC that much.”

“You look better than any of them,” Darren said, giving Tom the idea that Darren might be looking to relive a few of their moments together. What if ... Tom worried, thinking about Seth and Andrew.

No worries. They went back to the hotel early and slept in their own separate rooms.

The morning session with Michaels began with “Call me Brent” and became even friendlier. The deal was wrapped up in an hour, but it was not as rich a deal as Rory had hoped. The deal was small enough to avoid the bidding process; nominally it was only a specialized inventory team priced to cover costs and not much more. He had to count on follow-on options to make real money; but Brent made that sound like a given.

The day was cold and Darren felt every gust of wind as he walked from his initial hotel to the St. Regis pulling his suitcase behind him. He wondered why he hadn't taken a taxi; the streets were full of them. It was a miserable walk. He barely noticed the White House as he skirted Lafayette Park. Fortunately all changed in another block and a half.

Nicky was waiting for him with a warm smile and ushered him quickly up to Morrie's room. The wind and the cold had Darren looking miserable and Morrie was alarmed. “Nicky, do something with him. He looks like he couldn't sell cough drops in winter.”

A hot shower, a fresh press to his suit, and a lot of encouragement from Nicky did the trick. “You got the contract with the Smithsonian! That's great, Darren. I bet you did most of the heavy lifting too. Working as a model for us, it's easy to overlook how smart you are. I bet you had them eating out of your hand.”

Nick helped dry his hair keeping up the stream of chatter while Darren dried the rest . “It was your genius? Or did they just fall in love with you like everybody else? These Spanish guys are going to love you too. Ok if I pronounce your last name as if it's Spanish? Shit, listen to me. It's so good to see you. All of you.” The last comment referred to Darren's brief nudity after his shower and was followed by a brief hug made totally unsexy by the bulky hotel bathrobe.

“Truthfully, Nicky, I think the guy liked my looks.”

“So the brains can come as a nice surprise later. There … “ Nicky gave Darren's tie a final tug. “Let's go meet the owners. What? Why are you looking at me?”

“Nothing. You really cheered me up, that's all.”

“I'm glad to see you, too; Morrie's been eating people alive today.”

“There's our star,” Morrie said, acknowledging the improvement in Darren's appearance.

“Gentlemen, my I introduce Darren Alva,” Morrie said. Nicky immediately repeated the name pronouncing it Alba, as it would be in Spanish. Polite nods and hand shakes followed. Darren sat and didn't need to speak. He practiced Tanyeli's advice of sometimes turning just his eyes instead of his head. Otherwise he did his best to sit without fidgeting while trying to look skinny. It must have worked; Morrie seemed pleased with the session that ended by three-thirty.

One last question was aimed at Darren. “Señor Alba, could you support the fiction of a romance with Tanyeli? It would be for pure publicity purposes and would last the duration of the campaign. The little bit of playing off your brother's earlier relationship could be useful.”

“Facilmente,” Darren said implying a relationship with Tanyeli would not only be easy it would be fun.

Morrie was delighted with the session and wanted to express his pleasure physically. Darren of course agreed. At four o'clock Morrie topped Darren and at five the roles were reversed. “I really can't say no to you,” Morrie said after their second session.

“I really never ask you for anything,” Darren joked. Morrie grabbed him and rolled around playfully on the bed.

“You never do, now that I think of it. Ok, you get to ask for one thing, within reason, of course. A new car? A nice watch? A trip somewhere?”

“I don't think you can give me what I want.”

“What's that?”

“An education.”

Morrie thought a bit and said, “You're right. You have to get that for yourself.” He got up and dressed. “Could you just lie there while I dress. You look so perfect lying there naked.” When Morrie had finished dressing he said, “Go torture Nicky, now. I'm going to some thing at the Embassy.” And Morrie was gone. Darren never knew what to expect from his patron for more than about an hour ahead of time.

“Nicky?” Darren tapped lightly on the open door.

“Mmm. Darren! Come in.” Nicky was lying on the bed and seemed to be showing a bit of a hardon which Darren tried to ignore. An evening to ourselves, huh? Let's go see some sights.”

“It's freezing and I don't have a heavy coat.”

Nicky opened a trunk and said, ”Pick something.”

Fur-lined leather made the walk a pleasure. They walked down 16th Street and this time Darren saw the White House lighted and framed by trees. Then they took Pennsylvania to 17th and down to the Mall. Darren pointed out the Freer Gallery to Nicky as they walked around the Washington Monument.

“You want to go west to see Mr. Lincoln or east to the Capitol?”

“What's over there?” Darren pointed south through some trees.

“The Jefferson Memorial, but it's hard to get to. We could walk around the Tidal Basin.” That would have been a good idea in a different month. The wind off the river picked up and convinced them to wander back to the hotel. The stopped for food at the Old Ebbitt Grill. It was a big and bustling place but they got a small booth in the corner bar and had a couple of dressed up cheeseburgers.

“I want to say thanks. You're awfully nice to me, Nicky, considering how we started out.”

“I'm nice to you, one, because it's easy, two, because Morrie wants me to, and, three, because I like you. Which gets us back to one, you don't make demands; it's very easy to be nice to you. Which gets us back to three, I like you a whole lot. The day of the cow shit was the most fun I've had since I started working for Morrie.”

“I don't know from one minute to the next what Morrie is thinking.”

“Nobody does, Darren. Not ever Morrie. He has a schedule and sort of keeps to it, but lots is just random. I do know he likes you.”

“I try to be what he wants, but ...”

“I used to have your job, remember? You don't have to explain anything. Or apologize for anything either. Not to me. He got tired of me in his bed, but I survived. I think you could too if you want to.”

“I don't know how he ever got tired of you.”

Nicky gulped listening to Darren's comment and ate a French fry. If I don't shut up, he thought, this will go too far. Nicky signaled the waiter for the bill. They returned to the hotel. Nicky went to his room and Darren lay in Morrie's bed watching television.

At about one in the morning Morrie woke Darren somewhat urgently and said, “Go sleep with Nicky, ok? I'll call you in the morning.” Darren could hear Morrie talking to someone in the hall as he left, carrying his clothes.

“Nicky?” he whispered.

“Climb in,” Nicky said. It was a big king sized bed, so there was lots of room. After Darren settled himself Nicky added, “This happens sometimes. Sometimes Morrie even brings a woman back. He'll be fine in the morning,” he told Darren. “If I snore, just poke me.”

 

[Autolycus]

Another great chapter!

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
A very interesting, almost introspective, chapter.

Your treatment of Luke's final days was warm, caring, loving, while still conveying the difficulties he went through, and the strength of his support group - those closest to him who loved him well and unconditionally. Your use of LAX as a foil for Mark and Eric was powerful, something many of us would do if faced with a similar situation.

And then to follow on, in fair detail, about Darren's psyche and interpersonal issues/desires. He is maturing, quickly. His contribution to the group's sales and cataloging efforts is palpable AND appreciated.

Then there's Morrie and Nicky. Morrie has feelings that go beyond the good lay, but is strange at best. Nicky. What about Nicky. I'm surprised they didn't have a romp in the hay, but Nicky seems apprehensive to go for it. I detect deeper feelings of more than lust from Nicky, too. Could he be Darren's soulmate?

And, yes, you maintain a bit of comic relief in Z's Brachiole "bomb" of a dinner and the ensuing stink.

Oh, yeah, and we appear to have a new, budding hetero to homo-intimacy developing in the wings.

Time will tell on a few fronts.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Fifty-Five

“Rory, I have to talk to somebody.”

“”What's wrong, Jerry? Be glad to help if I can.” Rory was eating a sandwich at his desk and the office was empty.

“Well … your being friends with Tim and all … I thought maybe I could ask about Neil.”

“I'm more than friends with Tim, but I don't know Neil beyond sports and seeing him with Tim now and then. Tim trusts him completely, thinks he's a great partner. What about him?”

Jerry looked increasingly uncomfortable and was beginning to regret starting the conversation, so it became up to Rory to keep it going. “You and Neil seem like friends. Good times and all.”

“Yes, we are; maybe too good. We've been dating these two nurses and having a great time, the four of us … but ...”

“You want to ease off a little? Make it a twosome, just you and the nurse?”

“No, not at all. I tried that and it's not as much fun without the four of us. It's just … oh, man, this is SO hard to talk about. I'm sorry I bothered you.”

“Jerry, if it's really troubling you, it's worth talking about. If you don't want to talk to me, I could recommend a professional. Somebody I trust completely.”

“It's sex, Rory.” He spilled it all in a rush. “We've been having sex all in the same room. Pretty often. Nothing weird. Couples always. But we're almost always together. And for me anyway, it's not as much fun if we're not together. Sometimes I can't even get off if Lara and Neil aren't there with Jane and me. There's gotta be something seriously wrong with that. Neil would think I'm gay if I ever talked to him about it. And I'm not gay … I don't think.”

“If it helps, I don't think you're gay either. Plus, you're old enough that if you were, you'd know – there wouldn't be any doubt in your mind. So what's the attraction here? Think about how much you like the fun you're all having together – just the fun, not the sex - in contrast to how much you like Jane. It might be that Jane, as an individual, just isn't that important to you and going along with the crowd is more interesting and fun; and, of course, sex is sex.” Rory looked at a small spot on the ceiling for a minute. “Ok, let me ask you … how big is Neil's dick?”

Jerry blushed furiously. “I don't know exactly … uh … it's … I don't know.”

“Right answer for a straight guy. I'd say don't take things too seriously. If you're not comfortable with what you're doing, stop doing it. Otherwise, stop worrying about it unless it becomes a lot more obsessive. But you should be fair to Jane; don't let her think something's there that isn't, ok?” Jerry nodded. “You sure?” Jerry nodded again. “Just some things to think about. Notice I said think about, not worry about.”

Jerry managed a thin smile and a quiet thanks; and an hour later he seemed back to his usual self, which was a good thing. Rory needed the modified program for the Smithsonian to run by the end of the week.

Darren was simulating data entry and wondered why there seemed to be such a multiplicity of cataloging systems. Why couldn't they all run as a subset of the Library of Congress's 'N' series codes for fine arts, he wondered. He decided that was a question he would ask Dr. vonAllmen next chance he got. Oops, he though, letting my mind wander is creating input errors. His error rate had been pretty high all day as he thought about Washington, Morrie's night with someone else, and, oddly, the fact that Nicky didn't snore. Then there was Heiko and Daegan, Alex's mystery man, and the ad shoot coming up. Oops, another error.

Tim and Neil spent their afternoon at Oakland Acura offices talking to the used car manager. Parked in the Pacific Film Archive lot they had found brand new Acura registered to Mancini. Their interest was in his trade-in. A used car salesman was looking up the trade. “Yeah, I remember that one,” the manager said. “Low-mileage, but filthy. I think we sent it to a detail shop to get it ready to sell.”

At the detail shop the Acura was still undergoing exterior prep, the interior was untouched. The coroner's office sent a lab team over and collected samples from the seats, carpets, and trunk liner.

“Assuming they can connect it to Dorrance, what's the motive for the murder? I sure don't see it. And who did the driving?” Neil asked.

“Mancini said the new car was a Christmas present to himself. Hard to call that a lie, especially after the dealer's records showed Mancini ordered the new one weeks before Dorrance was killed. One clue just leads to more questions,” Tim muttered.

Neil yawned elaborately.

“Another wild night with Jerry and the nurses?” his partner prodded.

“We're just having a good time, there's nothing serious going on. You wouldn't know from playing lacrosse with him but Jerry's really funny, easy to be around, you know?. And those nurses are more than cool; they'll go along with anything – jokes, that is.”

“They don't mind the foursome business.”

“It's not really a foursome. No swapping ... mmm, except once, and that was the only first time. Sometimes we're in the same room, but it's always couples. There's no … uh, interaction.”

“I'm not criticizing. It's your business. Sounds like fun, actually.” Tim didn't want to get deeply into Neil's sex life, despite Neil's willingness to share the details; so he moved the conversation back to Dorrance, asking Neil what the connection could be.

“The choice would have to be sex or drugs. What else was there in Dorrance's life?” Neil asked.

“Money, I guess; but that would have to involve sex or drugs, too.”

“Darren knew that Josh guy from high school. I wonder if there's a possible school connection with Dorrance.”

Z and Darren went into the city for some still camera work that would be part of the print and catalog campaign using the same wardrobe they would wear for the TV ads. It took most of the morning and it was hard work making summer clothes look fabulous while freezing in the middle of winter. Andrew and Seth were on scene as much to recruit new clients as to look out for their existing stable. In addition to Z and Darren they had two other men and one woman working the shoot.

“Z, do you require any ...”

“I outgrew that problem, Andrew,” Z said referring to the spontaneous erections that were constant when he began modelling.

Andrew watched the two of them work and marveled at their similarities; but there were differences. Although Z had the gentler personality he had the harder body, leaner and more cut. Darren had a more fiery look but was slightly larger framed and had some indescribable allure, a hint of vulnerability. God, if I weren't near physical collapse from my sex-fiend lovers, Andrew thought, I'd want Darren for a night or two. Z looked great in clothes; but Darren … you'd want to get him out of the clothes, Andrew decided. Could there be a marketing ploy there, he wondered; it could depend on how the Tanyeli business played out. It was too bad she wasn't here today.

“Seth, what do you think about pitting Z and Darren against each other? Photographically, I mean.”

“I don't know, Andrew. The hook so far has been their similarity. And you can see in the pix their connection – they play off each other.”

“But after this campaign all the industry people will know them. I was just trying to think up what might come next – something new.”

“I think Tayna is doing well today,” Seth changed the subject. “She's not ever going to look good in motion, but for stills, catalog work, she's good. I think we can place her in a lot of local stuff.”

“So … the two guys we got from that Berkeley call, what about them?” Seth didn't answer; and Andrew continued. “Yep, that's what I thought, too. Maybe porn, huh?”

“I'll ask them.” Seth had a way of talking people into trying 'new things' as Andrew called their porn work.

The porn work was modestly profitable and brought in the cash they needed to support their conventional agency business in the beginning. Now, the porn business had evolved to being fun, not vital. They paid the models minimum scale and sold Chris's photography for good money, since it always had more artistic than hard-core appeal. The models didn't complain. Some were in it for the hell of it, like Alex; others, like Gareth, used to exposure to enhance their escorting business. Everybody was happy and everybody made money one way or another.

The morning shoot ended at ten thirty and an hour later Darren arrived at the Cantor Center to begin the catalog compilation. He worked straight through until seven o'clock, when Gabriel Kristen insisted on closing the building.

“You may get paid by the hour, but I don't,” Gabriel said. “Is this going to be regular hours for you?”

“No, sorry, I had another job this morning from seven to ten-thirty. That shouldn't happen often; and we intend to finish your job on schedule without overtime.”

“Twelve hour days? And I thought you were just a pretty face … Sorry. That sounds so insulting. I mean, I figured you concentrated on sales.”

“In Rory's group everybody does everything. Everything we're qualified for, that is. So I sell, I test software, I help with installations, but I don't program. Tom does everything I do but he's also a programmer. A really smart guy.”

“Have you eaten?”

“There was a buffet table at my morning job.”

“Nothing since then? Want to grab a bite?” Gabriel invited.

They went to a faculty lounge with a cafeteria line that served a limited but excellent selection of trendy and health choices. Darren got a grilled tuna salad and then found out the real reason for Gabriel's invitation.

“Um, Darren, when is Henrik going to work?”

Darren paused a second. “Oh, Heiko! I'm not used to hearing him called Henrik. He wanted some time to get settled in with his courses and stuff, so probably next week.”

“How long do you think the work will take, realistically?”

“Rory promised six weeks; and it'll be done in six weeks unless war is declared.”

“So, Heiko will be here for the next six weeks?”

“More or less. We all cooperate filling in the work schedule, but he said he wants to work a lot. So you'll probably see him a lot.”

“You know, von Allmen looked him up and he's more Wittelsbach than he tells people. His father had the nickname “Der Blaue Wittelsbacher” when he played soccer for his University. The Blue Wittelsbach is also a famous diamond and his father was a tough defender – hard as a diamond. I think he could claim the title graf, but the Germans don't care much about titles these days.” Gabriel couldn't seem to avoid touching himself as he spoke about Heiko.

“Really? He never says anything about his background. Just that his father is an engineer working in Saudi Arabia.”

“Is he dating anybody?” Gabriel rearranged his cock again.

“Dunno. You'll have to ask him.” Darren thanked Gabriel for the snack and headed for his car.

“Great wheels,” Gabriel said walking along and seeing the Audi.

“Thanks, it's a company car, not mine.”

“Nice company. Tell Heiko we open about eight I the morning.”

If you knew what I had to do to get this car, you might not think it was so great, thought Darren as he crossed the San Mateo Bridge. And what the hell is a graf, he wondered. And Heiko can read for God's sake; the front door says eight A.M.

Darren was still annoyed in the morning. “What the hell is a graf?” he growled at the office as a general greeting.

“A visual depiction of a numerical function, where any point along a line represents a correct solution to ...,” Cyril began.

“Not a graph, a graf,” Darren cut him off.

“Some kind of blimp?” Bernice suggested while wishing emeralds were considered 'office casual'.

“Like the Graf Zeppelin?” Jerry proposed after a lengthy yawn. “Is graf going to be the word of the day? Like your Democritus obsession last week?”

“It's a title, like king or something, I think. I thought one of you would know,” Darren said.

Tom solved the problem. “Google is your friend, Darren.”

“Graf. A historical German title equivalent to count or earl,” Darren read aloud.

“Let's invite the Graf over. I could wear … emeralds,” Bernice fantasized.

The graf's son showed up for lacrosse that afternoon, almost as pissed off as Darren had been that morning. “Tired of Stanford already?” Larry asked him.

“Alex needed some stuff from home, I rode along.”

“What's the matter?” Darren asked at a pause in the play.

“Nothing.”

After the game Darren went to Alex's house and again, when they were alone, confronted Heiko, “Something's the matter. Spill.”

“Daegan has met … a cheerleader. The best cocksucker this side of Kilkenny, he says. He's spending every minute with her. If you can believe this…” Heiko's jaw tightened. “Daegan claims HE is now her principal source of protein.”

 

[DonQuixote]

“Daegan has met … a cheerleader. The best cocksucker this side of Kilkenny, he says. He's spending every minute with her. If you can believe this…” Heiko's jaw tightened. “Daegan claims HE is now her principal source of protein.”



Life's a bitch Heiko, what can we tell you?
Maybe Darren will get some, again?

Earl Heiko the Horny. I like the sound of it, lol.

The boys are hardworking - no one can say anything about that. And they are versatile.

And your writing continues to captivate.

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
I saw this video on Yahoo New crawler today, and immediately thought of Luke.



http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?lang=en&cl=23572716

I hope it is still out there when your regular readers stop by.

 

[EasyRory]

Rory,
I saw this video on Yahoo New crawler today, and immediately thought of Luke.



http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?lang=en&cl=23572716

I hope it is still out there when your regular readers stop by.

Thanks for posting that. It's a touching scene. Once ALS becomes noticeable it moves quickly.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Fifty-Six

Z and Darren flew to LA for the filming of the TV commercials. No sooner had the plane taken off from Oakland than Darren was asleep, which wasn't easy to do in the middle seat, and he stayed soundly asleep until they arrived at the gate in Burbank. In the taxi, Z asked Darren why he was so tired.

Wouldn't you like to know, thought Darren. The answer in three words was Heiko, Heiko, and Heiko. “I didn't get as much sleep as I should have last night. Nervous, I guess.”

“You can bet Tanyeli got her eight hours,” Z said, gently trying to make his point. “She sticks to that rule no matter what else is going on.”

Things were at first uncomfortable when they met Tanyeli; but, once she decided Z had no lingering issues from their previous relationship, she relaxed. They laughed looking back on their European year together, how leisurely their shoots were compared to American scheduling, how good the buffets always were, and how much time they had on their hands.

When they were briefly alone, Tanyeli confessed, “I would have married you, you know.”

“And you know I would have disappointed you.”

“We had a great six months, though. You can't deny that, Zebra.” Tanyeli's nickname referred to an accidental suntan Z got in Sardinia from sleeping near a louvered window.

Z smiled at the memory. “Be a little careful with Darren? He's tougher than I was at his age, but he still pretty much a Boy Scout.”

The shoot went fast and well; the director got all the clothing shots completed and wrapped it up by three. Darren and Tanyeli stayed for some candid work that was about as candid as a Presidential Inauguration. They rehearsed every gesture, touch, and glance and then performed them multiple times. The poses, designed to look so easy to the camera, were exhausting and sometimes painful to the performers. Darren's youth provided stamina but not analgesia. He was a mass of aches at the end of the day.

“You know what you need? A massage. My hotel has the best spa in the city.” Tanyeli's invitation sounded intriguing. Darren had never had a professional massage.

“I thought I was getting a late plane home tonight.”

“Let's start again at seven tomorrow,” the stage manager announced.

“I guess not,” Darren shrugged.

“Stay at the Peninsula,” Tanyeli urged despite Darren's protestation that he had no money. “Zara wants us to be friends. They'll take care of it.”

A half hour later Darren was in Tanyeli's suite wearing a towel and wondering if the massage table was strong enough as he climbed onto it. “What's the other table for?” he asked the masseur.

“My wife and I work as a team; she will be doing your friend.” The masseur folded the towel and arranged it so that it almost covered Darren's ass.

The massage started out brutal and worked its way around to soothing. Darren opened his eyes and saw Talyeli, also draped in a towel lying opposite him. The team was very professional and efficient; the massage was in fact as soothing as Tanyeli promised. Darren nearly fell asleep under the spell and smell of the fragrant oils. He thought of Heiko the night before, how the masseur's hands could have been Heiko's. And then the process was over.

The two donned terry bathrobes and sat on the balcony sipping lemon water and eating some fruit. Their nudity on the job had been fleeting and professional. Here, wearing first just a towel and then just a bathrobe, Darren became aware of an erotic charge. Every move Tanyeli made seemed an invitation to touch, fondle, and kiss parts of her body. Their subsequent sex was something that happened almost as a seamless part of the spa treatment, very comfortable, very satisfying, and very simple. The zipless fuck, as Erica Jong called it, with no complications, no entanglements, and no promises, left Darren physically satisfied, mentally calmed, and falling asleep in Tanyeli's bed. Intruding thoughts of Heiko gave him a fresh erection, but no desire to do anything with it. He fell asleep with Tanyeli's hand holding his cock.

Alex returned to school after a night with Gareth. Gareth insisted the evening start with a trip to an Urgent Care Clinic for STD testing. “It's something we have to do, Alex, given what I do for a living. I've been getting tested regularly and you should too.”

“Gareth, I came here today for a reason. The clinic can wait an hour.”

“No it can't. I'll do anything you want when we get back. I promise. Don't I always? When have I said no to anything you wanted?” Gareth gave Alex his best smile and held him in his arms.

“You always find a reason to avoid fucking me. And I want to do it for you.”

They went to the clinic and had their blood drawn. There were other couples and singles being tested and the atmosphere was friendly with an underlying apprehensive nervousness, as the group of mostly men sat waiting for the results. Two of the men were friends of Gareth, even coworkers on a few occasions when group sex had been their customers' preference. When Alex went into a private room to hear his results, Gareth tried to hush up his friends' comments.

“He's just as cute as you said!”

“No wonder you wouldn't let us meet him.”

“Shhh!” Gareth urged as Alex came out from his interview. A short interview always meant good news. Gareth's interview was equally short, but only because he promised to return later.

Gareth suspected he would be positive. An earlier ELISA test reported positive and, although that particular test has a significant rate of false positives, Gareth knew his luck eventually had to run out. You can't do the things he did and get away with it forever.

The subsequent sex with Alex was bittersweet, precious because Alex was so eager, responsive, and committed, and painful because Gareth knew it was their last. As he always was with Alex, Gareth was careful, using spermacide as well as a condom, and even then faking his orgasm to protect Alex.

Alex for his part was overwhelmed by the sensations of the skillful penetration and never detected Gareth's failure to complete the act. He had wanted Gareth so much; he loved the feeling of surrendering his body and having it accepted lovingly and passionately. He came fairly quickly but wanted Gareth to stay in him. Gareth's withdrawal was painful only because Alex didn't want it to end, not because Gareth's practiced techniques were faulty.

Afterward Alex was dopey with love and Gareth was afraid he'd never leave. He told Alex he had a business appointment, which was a semi-lie. The appointment wasn't until the morning when the movers were coming.

At about the same time outside the San Francisco airport Cal removed a bag from Larry's car. He was catching a redeye back to Cleveland and training camp. “I'm coming back. Do not ever doubt that. Not for half a minute.” The feel of his lover's body in his arms was so familiar and yet so enchanting. Just feeling Larry breathe made Cal miss him already and want to prolong his touch. “And one month from today, the season opens in Salt Lake. You'll be there?”

“Of course. Should I get Eric or somebody to come along?”

“Don't need … don't want a chaperone, Larry.”

“No, I was thinking our relationship wouldn't be so obvious if there was a third person along.”

“We're dealing with football players. Figuring out the plays is about as much challenge as they can handle at one time.”

“You're a football player. You're smart.”

“You just make me seem smart.”

“Liar, get on your plane. I'll see you in a month.”

When Darren awoke in the morning Tanyeli was already up and out. He felt their night was a nice little accident. The bathroom was outfitted for Tanyeli; all kinds of cosmetics but no razor. He showered without shaving thinking he'd look scruffy for the morning shoot, but if they wanted a smooth face the makeup people could handle it.

“Whew!” Tanyeli puffed in Darren's general direction as she headed for a shower herself. She was sweaty and out of breath from a morning workout. “Order some breakfast, Darren. Whatever you want plus the usual for me.”

“I don't know what your usual is.”

“Room service does. Just give them the room number.” She vanished behind the mirrored bathroom door.

On the lot it turned out that scruffy was just fine. “The morning-after look will work perfectly. We already got the passion,” the director said. So after a couple of hours worth of longing gazes, half-kisses, and casual embraces, the shoot was concluded.

“Hope I did ok,” Darren whispered to Tanyeli.

“You're a natural. You were great in every way, D.”

“D is too close to Z. Call me anything else – but not D, ok?”

“How about if I call you next week?”

“Next Week is ok. Sounds kind of like “Odd Job” that guy in ...”

“No, silly. I'll be in San Francisco.” With a quick kiss she was gone and almost as quickly Darren was being driven to the airport in an agency car this time.

“Mr. Alva?” the driver querried. “Call for you.” He passed Darren the cell phone.

“Darren! It's Nicky. The driver is going to take you to a house in Malibu, ok? Morrie wants to show his appreciation.”

Darren gave the phone back to the driver, who listened briefly and then headed west along Ventura Boulevard. “It's actually quicker than the freeway. We'll take Topanga. Be there in no time,” the driver explained.

In slightly more than no time, Darren was squirming into a wet suit. At least it's not a Speedo, he thought. Nicky wanted to take some boards out. “Morrie will be here in about an hour or so. I thought we could get in a little surfing while we wait.”

The water temperature was bracing and the boards were fun. Darren ws not a surfer but did ok until he tried to stand up. Even in that day's modest waves, surfing was more of a challenge than it looked. Many falls and mouthfuls of saltwater later they called it a day. “Rinse off here,” Nicky said, pointing to an outside shower. They left the wet suits on pegs and rinsed the salt off before waking through the house to fetch their clothes.

“Dudes, a little consideration ...” Little Morrie hid his eyes, a complaint about their nudity.

“You wish,” Nicky countered. “Be sure you jerk off with your left hand, L M, the boss is gonna want you to meet some people later.”

“I don't like that Little Morrie shit, Nicky.”

“I wouldn't either; 'little' doesn't refer to your place in the organization chart.”

“Jeez, Nicky, you're being rough on him,” Darren said once they were in the bedroom.

“He pissed me off. Something he said about you. Jealous little prick. And I do mean little.”

They dressed and went out to wait for Morrie's arrival. “Want something to drink? Eat?” Nicky offered.

“Depends. How long am I here for?”

“Damned if I know. I think you'll find out as soon as Morrie gets here. He liked what he saw of the shoot.” Darren settled for some water, thinking Tanyeli was already a good influence on his diet.

Darren lay back in the chaise with his eyes closed and listened to the surf rhythmically pound the sand. He felt a touch and looked up. It was Nicky running his hand along Darren's jaw line, feeling his beard. “You lose your razor? Morrie hates beards. Better use the bathroom off my bedroom.” Nicky's hand was still on his cheek as Darren rose to go shave.

A good thing, too, the shaving. Big Morrie wanted a roll in the hay as soon as he got there. “Seeing all those hot shots of you reminded me of what I've been missing,” Morrie said as he pushed Darren back onto the bed. “Are you hard for me? Or still thinking about last night? Nevermind; don't answer that,” Morrie chuckled and went down on Darren's hardness, sucking him to maximum erection. Morrie then sat on Darren's cock, slipping it slowly up his ass and rotating slightly until he was used to it. “Now, my sexy friend,” Morrie said, “Fuck me like you did Tanyeli. I've been itching for that big dick all morning.”

When they were done and Morrie satisfied, Darren asked, “How did you know about Tanyeli and me?”

“A hot property like you is newsworthy.” Morrie's cryptic reply was followed by an invitation to watch videos of the shoot. Darren was pleased with how he looked and moved in the scenes. “So that's what the ads are going to look like. Here's what the back story will be.”

Nicky left the room before Morrie pushed a button on the remote. Then the three people left got to watch Darren and Tanyeli enjoy, almost in real time, the massage, the relaxation, and the fuck. Darren was appalled and then horrified. As the scene unfolded Little Morrie rubbed frantically at the small tent in his pants and then bolted for a bedroom, gasping “Shit. I'm coming.”

The DVD that seemed endless continued to run and in the silence Darren could hear Nicky arguing with Little Morrie. His voice wasn't loud enough to make the words clear, only the vitriol.

With a closing shot of semen dripping off Darren's deflating cock, the high definition, full color scene finally ended. Darren was disappointed to realize that Tanyeli was in on the plan. “Isn't there a 3-D version?” His disgust showed.

Morrie explained, “Of course we won't use all the footage, Darren. You can trust me on that. We'll release only a very tame version of your evening delight. Maybe some stills suggesting a relationship. Just a few. Nothing X-rated,” Morrie promised. “No frontals or anything. You know, just enough showing to prove the sex was real. Hot, huh?”

Morrie unzipped his pants and struggled to free his semi-hard cock. “Hot damn! You got me hard again. An old man like me!” Morrie laughed out loud. “How about a little help here? Suck it, ok?”

 

[rocabar]

Wow... looks like Darren's got more than he bargained for-Yikes!

 

[DonQuixote]

What cost, Darren? It's too bad Tanyelli wasn't sincere. Makes the whole evening a lot cheaper, and you by association.

Morrie is a horny bastard, who is entirely too pay for hire now get my rocks off.

The facts of life in LA.

Gareth seems resolved that he's just been handed a death sentence.
Alex, our young wunderkind, will be devastated.

Meanwhile, Larry and Cal say farewell for a month.

All of this proving that life goes on, some ups, some downs, some sideways.

Thanks for the update into our guys' lives.

 

[EasyRory]

Session Fifty-Seven

“Darren, try to see the positive side,” Nicky cajoled in the back seat of Morrie's boat-sized Benz. “It's good for your career and Little Morrie is probably the only guy who will ever jerk off to it. Plus it's Tanyeli, not Morrie who's your partner. Everybody's releasing hetero videos. Wait. Hold still. I think you have a little dried cum on your cheek.”

Darren shook Nicky's hand off his cheek, his only comfort being the bulging pay envelope in his back pocket. Betrayed and used, yes, hurt a little; but I don't actually feel damaged, he thought. Nobody had done anything that really shocked him except Little Morrie. “Little Morrie is a pervert,” he told Nicky.

“What can I say? He's Morrie's nephew. He cannot be fired, but even Morrie treats him like shit if he's around a lot.”

“Is this video why I'm getting paid so much?”

“Not exactly. You actually filmed for three different corporate entities; so there are three checks and then there's the usual cash from Morrie.

“You didn't stay to watch the video.”

“I saw an unedited version earlier.”

“It is going to be released, isn't it? Even though Morrie said it wouldn't be.”

“It has already been released. Not by Morrie, though. Morrie told you the truth about what he will do with it. Your agent released it. What's his name? Andrew? He owns the principal rights.”

Darren looked out the window as the car headed for the Van Nuys Airport. Nicky pulled a tissue from a compartment and again wiped Darren's cheek. “Hold still. Remember I had your job. I know most of what you're feeling. Except you're probably going to be famous. I just fucked my way into a fairly decent gofer job. You need to hold yourself apart from this business, Darren. You're the good guy in all this. You're still that good guy.” Nicky ran his hand across Darren's now-clean cheek.

“This isn't the way to the airport. Am I being kidnapped?”

“Different airport. I got you a private ride.” Nicky watched Darren, hoping he had smoothed things a little. “If you can stand to do it, watch the video again. You really looked great in it. I could name ten Hollywood guys who wish they could look that good.”

“I swear you could find a positive angle in the murder of a troop of Brownies.”

“That's my job if you want the truth; but I like doing it when it's for you. Ok, here we are. Let me introduce you to the owner of the plane.” They got out of the car and walked over to a small jet. “Maddie, Deck, this is Darren Alva.”

“You look so much like your brother,” Maddie said and Deck extended a hand in greeting.

“You know Z?” Darren asked. Even Nicky, who usually owned the background in every situation was surprised.

“Actually we both know Eric Malone,” Deck explained. “Ready?” he asked the pilot. “Do you play lacrosse, too?” he asked Darren, inviting him to board the plane after Maddie.

They left Nicky with his mouth open. It took most of the flight for Maddie to explain how Eric and Z first got into modeling with Tanyeli and herself. In turn Darren talked about his modeling with Tanyeli for Zara. He bit the bullet and admitted that some explicit scenes of himself and Tanyeli would probably be public soon.

“It's outrageous that everything people do is instantly public,” Maddie commiserated, as if the whole world shared the problem.

“The good thing is the public looks but doesn't really care,” Deck added. “Professionally you'll do fine with it. Personally it can be a problem, though. You know the story about Logan Long's video?”

Darren nodded. “I was Seth Behar's roommate when it happened.”

“So you and Tan had a little thing and now it's not a secret. Most of the world will envy you.” Maddie dismissed the event.

They parted at the airport with Deck inviting Darren to a party that Tanyeli would be attending. “Um, I think I already got an invitation from Tanyeli,” Darren said.

“Good, bring Z and Eric,” Maddie added before they split up at the Oakland Airport.

Tim was pacing the dining room, piecing events together. “I practically solve a murder and nobody gives a damn,” he complained to Rory.

“I give a damn. You'll get Tom and Darren off without their names ever being mentioned.”

“Now I just have to prove it, Rory, which, of course, is the hard part.”

“Ok, so you have lab evidence that Mancini's car was used to transport Dorrance's body. You know Mancini has a cast iron alibi for the time of the murder. You know his assistant regularly used Mancini's car. You know the assistant … Josh? … went to football camp with Dorrance. And you know Dorrance was desperate for money. Therefore, Dorrance probably blackmailed either Josh or Mancini - or both - threatening to expose their relationship and drag other students into it. Mancini faces the loss of his position, Josh faces no job and no school. But Josh knows Dorrance best, so he eliminates Dorrance. Right so far?” Rory asked. Tim nodded and kept pacing. “Mancini is the weak point. You can break him if you can protect his future.”

“But he shouldn't have a future. Even if Josh did the killing, Mancini is complicit.”

“Timmy, you're the one who said sometimes the ends never get all tied up – that you have to settle for ninety-five percent most of the time.”

“Don't call me Timmy,” Tim said, looking with love at Rory. “You know where that leads and I have to come up with one more piece of evidence here.”

“New subject. You want to go to Cal's game in Salt Lake first Saturday in February?”

“I'd like that. Wait ... How could Dorrance know that much about Mancini, unless Josh told him? And why would Josh tell Dorrance anything? Something's still wrong here. Something's missing.”

“Think your Dad would like to go, Timmy?”

“He'd love to.” Tim paused in his pacing to kiss the top of Rory's head. “It must have been just Josh and Dorrance. But what would Dorrance have on Josh that was enough to provoke murder? And if that's true, Mancini doesn't have to be involved at all. It makes more sense that way.”

“Timmy, you think all three of us should stay in the same room?”

“Of course not. High school football. How would that tie them up?”

“I bet he'd like to go.”

“Bet he'd like to … betting on football … betting on high school football? Do people do that? Mark would know, I bet. Larry, maybe. Rory, you're a genius.” Tim kissed him first with satisfaction and a measure of gratitude that he had some ideas to pursue the next day. Then he kissed him with love and gratitude that he had a partner who cared about his parents. Then he kissed him because it just felt so good. And it felt even better when they got into bed.

“I love just lying here naked with you. Every part of you is sexy.” Tim kissed Rory as he felt his hand sliding all over his slick cock. “Jeez, I'm dripping already. Mmmm. How did I get so lucky?” Tim kissed Rory with more urgency and soon began the familiar motions fucking him. “You get better and better,” he sighed. “Every time is better.”

When Tim got his breath back, he asked, “You want a turn? I'm ready and eager, babe.”

“I don't think I can, Tim. I know we used to swap places but lately, when you fuck me I'm so blown away I can't even get hard afterwards. I love you so much – it feels like I already came, that's how good I feel right now.”

Tim held his lover close, in awe of Rory's emotion. “I still can't believe it when you tell me things like that. I never imagined anybody in the world could be like you. I can't tell you enough, I can't do enough to ever ...”

Rory quieted him with a kiss thinking they would sleep. And they would have if Tim hadn't sucked on his nipple. Kisses, tongue flicks, touching bodies, searching fingers and Tim's question, “Are you sure you want to sleep?” combined; they all made it Tim's turn to enjoy the motion of a big restless cock taking possession of his body. “I'm all yours, Rory. Every bit of me all the time.”

In Branner Hall in Palo Alto things were not so placid. Alex was upset. “He just disappeared. Vanished off the face of the planet,” he told his friends. “For a couple of days I left voice mail; but … but then the number went dead. Now I get 'This is not a working number in the 415 area.' What happened?”

“Maybe he's just fucking somebody else, like Daegan,” Heiko groused.

“Maybe he's stalking someone else,” Daegan shot back.

“Oh for fuck sake, Daegan, why can't you be as passionate about sex? Like Darren.”

“And why can't you be as gentle as Cheryl?”

“Is Cheryl the cocksucker's name?” Alex asked.

“Shut up,” came the dual reply.

The three of them glowered at each other. “I'm sorry,” Daegan said.

“You should be,” Heiko answered.

“I was talking to Alex.”

Oh. I'm sorry, too, Alex. What do you think happened to your friend?”

“I just don't know. No clue at all. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow.”

Alex left for his own room, leaving Heiko and Daegan stuck alone with each other. It had seemed like such a great idea, rooming together, when the term began. Heiko felt the sex was a little one-sided, but that was tolerable until Cheryl entered the picture. Cheryl found Daegan's looks and Irish accent “adorable” as she told anyone who would listen, adorable enough to overcome the fact that he was a Freshmen. “But he's older, and so European,” she told the rest of the cheerleading squad. “And he has another feature,” she confided. “He's always ready ... you know ... hard as a hammer,” she rubbed her thighs together and squirmed thinking of it. “Not a sledge hammer,” she admitted, “but nice, plenty big enough. Not like that donkey Nadine is messing with.”

What drove Daegan into Cheryl's orbit was Heiko's constant attempts to fuck him. Just because you're willing doesn't mean I have to be, was Daegan's rationale; but it never satisfied Heiko. “You're great,” he told Heiko, “but I just can't get into that part. I can't do it, Heiko.” That was good enough when they were in Switrzerland but Heiko's needs expanded with their return to California. Every night Daegan would fuck Heiko and then Heiko would try to turn the tables. “Every night turns into a wrestling match, Heiko. I'm NOT fucking for you,” Daegan yelled loud enough for half the dorm to hear.

“You never even tried,” was Heiko's legitimate complaint and Daegan stormed out. As always when he got excited his Irish accent intensified and Cheryl heard him talking to himself on the walk outside the dorm.

“Aren't you a cutie?” she said. “Are you Australian?” He scowled a no. “Well, you look Australian,” she followed up.

“T'at would be 'cause a t'ird a t'e fookin' place is Scots and Oyrishmen!” he said.

“Oh, then New Zealand, I bet,” she ventured.

“Aren't you brilliant?” he said with a smile.

California airheads have their winning ways. She's cute but how did she get into Stanford, he wondered. Things blossomed from there. And Cheryl was a gentle girl who knew how to make a man happy, even a reluctant one. Although she quickly discovered that Daegan's experience was much less than his polished manner made her believe, she was a willing teacher with a willing pupil. This night, however, Cheryl was being fastidious about her period and was not available. Daegan was stuck with nowhere to go facing the ever horny Heiko.

Despite their disagreement about Daegan's degree of participation, Heiko and Daegan managed to live together and, with two such horny young men, some version of sex was never ruled out completely. Heiko, although he never ceased trying to expand Daegan's experience, endured that one limitation in return for Daegan's performing just about every other trick in 'The Joy of Gay Sex.'

Daegan's weakness, of course, was Heiko; he unquestionably loved him in one, two, or perhaps several of the many possible ways. He dreaded losing Heiko's long-lasting friendship and he loved the look of Heiko's body. All Heiko had to do was slowly change his clothes while discussing a plan to find somebody more willing. Instantly Daegan was putty in his hands, except on that one crucial point. Heiko's corresponding weakness was that, after so gladly giving up his own virginity, he was obsessed with the need to fuck Daegan. They had to be equals.

Irresistible force meets immovable object; and mutual annihilation was risked every time Darren's name was mentioned. That was because after yet another refusal by Daegan, Heiko recounted his night with Darren. Heiko repeated his line about Daegan being a source of protein and even Daegan laughed.

“But Darren did more than laugh. He saw how it hurt me. He cared, Daegan. I kissed him from gratitude. He kissed me back from … I don't know … from need, maybe. When I fucked him he pulled me into him. My whole body. He kissed me and wanted more. His body was a hundred times hotter than your words.”

This night was starting to be a repeat of the others. When Daegan refused to even spread his legs, Heiko said he would call Darren. Daegan went limp and rolled onto his stomach, leaving Heiko's hand resting on his ass. With resignation Daegan gave up and accepted what seemed inevitable. Disgusted and defeated, he said, “Go ahead, Heiko. Fuck me. Just do it and get it over with.”

With those words Heiko's rampant cock collapsed like the wreck of the Hindenburg. “I don't want you to let me; I want you to want me.”

Understanding that difference changed everything.

 

[DonQuixote]

Merry Christmas, Rory.
A little collaborative copping for Rory and Tim - with the benefits that follow.

Meanwhile, back at Stanford - maybe there's a light at the end of Heiko and Daegen's tunnel of torment? Did Daegen just have an "aha" moment that will turn their relationship back on?

Thanks for the update on our young studs.

 

[rocabar]

Merry Christmas, Rory-
And, Thanks for the update!

 

[EasyRory]

Session Fifty-Eight

Did the rift cause the infidelity or did the infidelity cause the rift? Seth was aware of a growing distance in his domestic triumvirate. Andrew seemed to have slipped his moorings. He came home every night, or almost every night; but his enthusiasm for their arrangement diminished over time.

Professionally, Seth was satisfied. They were at last making regular money and Andrew was lavish in his compliments, giving Seth more credit than even Seth's mother would have believed. At the office there were hugs and kisses but at home Andrew's interests were cooling.

As a form of compensation Seth realized that he and Tom were closer than ever. Tom's simple and regular I-love-you's were accompanied with a physical immediacy that shook Seth. Every time he heard Tom's declaration, he felt himself enveloped, swimming in some essence of Tom's profound emotion. He found he was happier on his nights in Tom's Alameda apartment than he was during their nights in the city office-apartment. Maybe it was because Andrew was always there in the city and sometimes missing in Alameda. Sometimes Seth wondered if he and Tom were actually pushing Andrew away, but it wasn't bothersome because Andrew didn't seem to mind and Tom didn't seem to notice. Seth, however, watched the gradual change in Andrew.

Andrew told himself that nothing had changed at all and the fact he was paying a lot of attention to the porn side of their business was because it provided a very profitable return on a very small investment. The regular agency business would eventually matter more, but Seth was handling so much of that work that Andrew felt his time spent on the porn shop was justified because of the irresistibly easy money. In Andrew's reasoning the other appeal of porn was secondary, but the porn business also offered drama, both emotional and physical; and Andrew truly loved the drama as much as he loved the money. The drama might be soap-opera quality, but it was never dull.

As if the models' personal lives weren't sufficiently calamitous, a principal source of the drama was Chris's volatile temperament and sexual preference for a measure of pain with his pleasure. Most of the time Chris could keep a lid on his yearnings and treat the models as fascinating objects, but the exceptional cases were frequent.

The most beautiful ass in the world, as Andrew dubbed him, returned looking for work after Gareth's disappearance. Chris had enjoyed photographing Alex both because of the physical and photogenic appeal of his body and a sense of vulnerability in Alex himself. Chris had no project in mind for Alex, but the chance to photograph him was compelling and Chris could always find some use for the results. Chris listened sympathetically to the story of Gareth's desertion and then told a sad but tearless Alex that it was alright to cry.

“I said, it's all right to cry, Alex,” Chris repeated. Alex missed the subtle direction but responded when Chris screamed at him, “So CRY God damn it!”

The shots of Alex in tears were stunning and evocative of a dozen emotions. Alone after the shoot Chris found himself getting lost in his own brilliance, unable to look away from the photos, and then unable to resist the sexuality of a hurt, sensitive, and naked boy. His erupting cock caught him by surprise and he later bragged to another photographer that looking at his own work had caused a spontaneous orgasm. In fact he had been masturbating, but where was the relevance of that technicality?

At the next studio session, Alex was an ebulliently cheerful chatterbox, a mood-shattering disaster as far as Chris's plans went. “Chris! Finally! I got a long email from Gareth. The only problem is he has HIV. I know that is serious, but, come on, this isn't the dark ages of medicine. He's being all noble bullshit about it, saying he moved to Iowa mostly to protect me and also to help his mother run a junk shop. What a crock! But he does seem more worried about me than about himself. Did you know his real name is Gary?” Alex paused to remove his clothes.

“Alex, I was hoping we could do an update of the back-flip fuck scene. I don't need you all bubbly and smiley.”

“Back-flip fuck? Anyway, he loves me and he's being stupid. He even admitted that he's not dying or anything. We can be careful. The only problem will be convincing him of that, but I convinced him about some other things. Amor vincit omnia, dude, huh?” While talking Alex assumed some suggestive poses called for by Chris.

Chris paused to enjoy a memory. “I think there was a porn flick with a version of that title. 'Amor Vincit Enema' or something. The star had a nine-incher, they claimed. Very physical. And he didn't just conquer, he ravaged.”

“So my plan is to visit him at spring break and talk him into coming back. You'd hire him, wouldn't you?” Alex pressed.

“Maximus Amor he was called. He nailed this twinky little blond … man, I can feel your pain!” Chris said, doing a Bill Clinton imitation.

“Is something wrong with your voice?” Alex asked and then continued. “We don't want Gareth going back to his old business. Maybe he could work here. There's always something to do around here. Right?”

Chris was back to being a photographer. “Sure there is. Like now even. Want to get it hard for me?”

“What is back-flip fuck?” Alex asked again after he stroked himself enough for Chris's purpose.

When they were done shooting Chris ran the old back-flip video for his audience of one and listened to the comments. “Hey, that's Larry!” and then “Oh, my God!” and then “Whoa! Bulls-eye!” Alex sat with his mouth open.

“Twenty-two million hits on the Internet,” Chris crowed proudly.

“Who … who was the guy on the floor?”

“Me.” Chris had always prided himself on having the courage to attempt the maneuver.

“And you want to update it? How could you do that? It's like perfect now. Larry! Wow! I play lacrosse with him. I had no idea ...”

“You had no idea he could do back-flips?”

“He doesn't seem like somebody who'd … who'd do that kind of thing.”

“So, I found another guy who can do back-flips and I was thinking you could play my part, Alex. What do you say?” Chris returned to his point and awaited Alex's agreement.

“Fuh-uh-uck, no!” Fuck had three syllables in Alex's pronunciation. “No way!”

Chris became testy with the lack of cooperation. “The action's not as hard as it looks. The top doesn't really flip directly into the final position. If you can fuck for Gareth, you can ...”

“You think I'm crazy?”

That was when Chris's temper snapped. “You ungrateful little bitch! I offer you the chance for fame and … You short-dick little ...”

“Gentlemen, how can we make beautiful porn in this environment?” Andrew called out from the doorway. He walked quickly up to the contestants and interposed himself, physically parting them. “His dick's not that small. Is it, sweetie?” Andrew soothed as he turned from Chris to Alex.

“Sweetie is being a bitch,” Chris complained.

“You want to try getting fucked from ten feet at a hundred miles an hour?” Alex retaliated.

“You forget, I did it!” Chris was getting out of control again.

“Speed and distance are your only concerns?” Andrew quietly asked Alex.

“F equals ma. In other words, hospital bed.”

“So the fucking isn't your problem … interesting … “ Andrew then turned to Chris. “Besides, how could you improve on perfection? The original is still so good. You know what I'd like to see? A penetration shot where the bottom keeps morphing into different guys as the top slowly penetrates. Expensive shot. Too big a cast. A nice directorial challenge, though. How would you shoot that scene, Chris?”

Chris was subdued and said only, “Casting the top would be the hard part.”

Alex and Andrew watched him walk into his dark room. “Alex, how would you like to be in Darren's next Zara show? Think you could do that?” Andrew obtained Alex's instant agreement. Alex figured the fee would pay for his trip to Iowa and so he left as happy as he had been when he arrived. Andrew figured that ass would sell more underwear than Zara had in stock.

Andrew watched the most perfect ass get covered by cloth and then walk out the door. Problems solved, Andrew concluded; he expected his new prospect to arrive any minute. This guy was tall but not gigantic. Making him look huge would be Chris's job. Andrew could imagine this guy as the top in his fantasy scene. All you'd need are really small bottoms, he thought. Tight bottoms, he mused.

Leon arrived and Andrew got him ready, which just meant stripping to his underwear. Andrew watched and remembered how tight Leon had been at their first interview. Tight and very willing was the memory. He's like a more muscular version of Eric; we could call him Prince Violent. Valiant Violent, Chris would like that name … Andrew came out of his brief revery and returned to business.

“Chris, come and meet Leon,” he called into the darkroom. Then as Chris came closer to Leon, he said, “Show him your wrestling pose.” Leon crouched, still towering over Chris; his face became a menacing scowl; and he held his arms out to grab Chris.

Chris's face showed fear and fascination. “Looks like a match. Ok, work with it,” Andrew said as he left.

“C-can you do a takedown?” Chris asked.

Leon promptly levered Chris to the floor and held him down. Following Andrew's script, he snarled, “I could fuck you and there's nothing you could do to stop me.”

“Who's stopping you?” Chris stuttered, enjoying the almost crushing pressure of Leon's weight.

Leon burst into a lopsided grin and got up. “So how was that? Andrew said you'd like a little aggression. Did I do ok?”

Chris was sorry to see that Leon was actually kind of cute when he smiled. He noticed Leon's boxer briefs were bulging unnaturally. “Oh, yeah. You did fine. Maybe don't smile so much. Is that all you in there?” He pointed at Leon's underwear; and Leon pulled them off, proved beyond a doubt that it was.

“Ok, then. If I have to have sex with you, can we get started? I've got plans for later. So, what do you like?” Leon wasn't one to waste time.

Chris stripped, started the auto-cameras, and said, “Let's wrestle.”

Leon pinned him with eight different take-downs, everyone of which left Chris's ass exposed. Leon nailed him eight different ways, making each penetration slower and more tantalizing than the last. Chris never got used to the size of Leon's cock; it hurt every time. Chris came in the third position, regained his erection in the sixth position, and almost came a second time when Leon did in the final position.

“Ok?” Leon asked. “I know some other holds, if you want to try again.” He helped Chris up and then steadied him when his legs wobbled. “You sure you're ok?”

“Fine. Can I have your cell number?” Chris gasped.

“All my vitals are in the office. The phone number marked 'W'? That's my wife's; so, don't use that one unless it's real important, ok? I hope we can do this again.” Leon smiled again as he left.

I wish he wouldn't smile, Chris thought as he stroked and felt the start of his orgasm.

The Cantor Center did not open its doors on time, leaving Darren and Heiko waiting on the front steps for twenty minutes.

“We bill 'em for every lost minute,” Darren vowed. “Every minute.”

The delay gave Heiko a chance to explain his new relationship with Daegan. “I was expecting too much. I can see that,” he said. “So now we're something better than brothers and less than lovers. I don't know how it will work, but - like it or not - we live in the same small room. We have to find some way to make the domestic arrangement peaceful enough for school work.”

“I have no idea what you just described, but it sounds European.” Darren heard the door lock turning and stood.

Gabriel Kirsten opened the door and let them in. “I'm sorry. The director was having a meeting and he loves to hear himself talk.”

In about twenty words Darren described to Gabriel how they would work and then he and Heiko began working. “That's it?” Gabriel asked. “You're just going to work now?” Gabriel was used to the more leisurely approach of a non-profit organization, getting to know you, sipping a latte, a discussion of the work space, lunch times, break times.

“Yes,” Darren said. “Do you want to differentiate the types of paper the works are on?” Gabriel had no answer so Darren went to ask Dr. von Alllmen.

“He's all business,” Gabriel said to Heiko.

“Yes, he is,” Heiko said uncritically.

“Some of my friends are calling me Gabi now.” Gabriel didn't explain that he had ordered them to do so. Heiko didn't comment so Gabi continued, “That business under the counter last time. I hope you didn't mind.”

“No, you're a very good cocksucker,” Heiko commented, reaching for a list of lithographs.

Gabi was non-plussed by Heiko's frank assessment of his initial homosexual experience and coughed to cover his embarrassment.

“Gabi, I'm going to work until noon, and then I have two classes. I'll be back at two forty-five and I will work until five-thirty. At that time, we can talk some more, ok?”

Gabi nodded; he was not sure what they would even talk about. He remained disappointed until at about five thirty-five he got his brains fucked out. That time was not accurate and Heiko was actually quite gentle; but 'five thirty-five' and 'brains-fucked-out' were the terms Gabi used when he told certain co-workers about his second homosexual experience.

Those weren't the terms Heiko used when he told Daegan about it. “I was bored after work so I fooled around with some guy. That's ok, isn't it?”

“Of course, it is. I don't want to be living with some pent-up sex fiend.” Daegan knew he hadn't hit quite the right tone with his answer. He hugged his friend. “We'll get through this, Heiko.” He considered a kiss on the cheek, but decided no, too soon for that.

They spent the evening studying, with occasional comments on classes and professors. And then they went to bed. And then Daegan got up, kissed Heiko's forehead, and returned to his bed.

“Night” Heiko turned onto his side to face the wall, pleased with his day..

“No shit!” said Neil. “That much???” Neil reacted to the estimated amounts of money Mark said that local gamblers wagered on high school football.

Larry confirmed the problem. “One big worry is that the coaching staffs are involved. They worry about the players, too, of course; but if the staffs are involved, then the whole program is rotten to the core. And it's a constant temptation. High school coaches aren't paid that much.”

“So we have some kind of motive here. Dorrance was a barely competent slacker on the Alameda team, but did not get canned. Josh had the same reputation at Acalanes. I guess we need do do some more interviewing, Neil.”

As they broke up, Eric walked people to the door. “Are you doing ok, Mark?” It was just over a month since Luke's death.

Mark smiled and said he was getting a new roommate. Eric the Nosy sounded like an owl asking who.

“Laurie,” Mark said Their old roommate, Cal's sister. Eric was delighted and hugged and kissed Mark in his excitement. “Quit kissing me, Eric. I have to, um, straighten myself out here.”

 

[DonQuixote]

Rory,
The complexities of life.
Andrew is slipping away from their cuddlesome threesome, focusing more and more on the Porn venue of their enterprise, for its "quick and easy cash" counterpoint - yeah, maybe. What will the reflection of Doriandrew Grey look like these mornings?

Meanwhile, Seth is reinventing himself into the penultimate business person, bringing their Advertising/Modeling aspects higher profiles and ongoing profitability.

Chris, our artiste of a photographer with aggresiion loving tendencies gets a surprise reversal, after Perfect Ass Alex told him to kiss off, fairly succinctly. Gotta love the boy's grasp of FUNdamental Physics: F = MA. Love it. Especially after Chris was giving Alex shit for being in a good mood after hearing from Gareth, knowing why he'd disappeared. Gareth/Gary is wise to cool things a bit - HIV is not something to treat lightly. But there is hope that they can normalize their relationship.

Lovable Leon, with an attitude - 9 positions and penetration in all 9, with Chris cumming only 1/3 of the way through, and hard again at the 2/3, hoping beyond hope for "Leon's Number" - what a cock deflator to hear the "W" word, lol.

Gabi is a conniving little slut. He's got the hots for Heiko, who couldn't care less about Gabi. Darren sets a pure business tone, and Heiko is there to do a job, too. Work, class, work, "talk" after work. Clear boundaries. Gabi got his guts pounded and is a happy camper; Heiko pumped a little pent-up passion into Gabi's ass, and headed on home to his good buddy.

Theirs is a developing relationship, for sure.

Then, back at the Rory and Tim (and Eric & Z and Mark) ranch, the investigation into Ted's death, and possible connections to illicit gambling on HS games heats up. LOTS of cash changing hands on High School sports circuit.

And Mark is holding up pretty well in the wake of Luke's death. He had longer than most to come to terms with the eventuality, and to say good bye. He has a new roomie - Cal's SISTER - Laurie, for whom he has to "um straighten [him]self out" lol.

It was a great round robin update on almost everyone.
It's good to see that Luke's memory is still present, but that people are honoring his memory by living life.

 

[EasyRory]

Wrote myself into a box and scrapped three chapters.

Probably won't be able to post until ... gosh ... I don't know ... next year or something.

 

[seanystarr]

Aww Rory, dont tease us with the thought of the 3 missing chapters....have a good new year, and looking forward as ever to more! I keep hoping you are going to continue and not bring this one to a close!

 

[DonQuixote]

Almost Happy New Year, Rory.

Three chapters of hard work - I hope you can salvage some of your hard work.