Show-Offs, page 11
“That’s even funnier. He just shrugged, shook his head and said, ‘Your loss.’ Then he walked into the sauna. I guess he’s still looking for dick.”
“What a loser!” I cried.
“No shit. Maybe we shouldn’t have come here today.”
I couldn’t keep the enthusiasm out of my tone. “You mean you’re ready to leave?”
Cutter rounded the bed and stopped, facing me. I was still on my knees atop the mattress so our heads were on the same level. He reached out and softly caressed my cheek. He held my gaze for so long, I forgot entirely about Raymond’s electric blue eyes. Yes, there were other desirable men in the world, in this very building, but Cutter Drake had chosen me. Me. And whatever I had to endure to keep his love would be done to perfection.
“I’d hate the VIP room to go to waste,” he purred.
“Should we leave the door open?”
“Nah, let’s leave it shut. I don’t feel like sharing you right now.”
“You mean that?”
He kissed me briefly, haltingly on my lips. “I’d never lie to you, boy.”
He fucked me until I was exhausted and sweating like a sow in the mid-August sun. Afterward I lay beside him, the sheets askew from our thrashing. For that blessed moment, I listened to Cutter’s breath, slowed mine till it fell into rhythm with his. It took me a bit to realize he’d spoken.
“You wanna run outside and grab me a water?” he asked.
“Don’t you have Gatorade in your bag?”
“Yeah, but water sounds better.”
“I’m so fucking whipped right now,” I moaned.
“Please.”
“Just drink your Gatorade.”
“I’ll suck your dick if you go,” Cutter said.
I rose to my side and looked down at him, hoping he could see the merriment in my gaze. “You should do that because you love me.”
“I’ll love you more when I’m hydrated.”
“Okay.”
Relieved that Cutter hadn’t asked me to leave the door ajar, I carried a limp dollar in my fist for the drink machine. More than anything, I wished I could make the trek to the lobby without passing any other man. I was done with men for that day, every man except Cutter. I turned the corner and headed out of the maze.
I only saw two men in the hot tub and another three watching the lounge television as I hurried past. None of them noticed me. I slid the dollar into the drink machine and pushed the correct button. Just as I bent over to retrieve the bottle from the machine, a figure in a white towel appeared suddenly at my side.
“You better be grateful he loves you,” the figure said.
Alarmed, my breath caught, I twisted my head over my shoulder and saw Keith glaring at me. His eyes were still red and bleary.
“What did you say to me?”
“You heard me the first time.”
I gulped then spit out, “Cutter told me what you did.”
Keith’s stance softened. He hitched up one shoulder in defiance. “Can’t blame me for trying. You know how hot he is—you’re the one fucking him.”
“I have to get back to the room,” I stammered and abruptly turned to leave. Keith followed me, his wide strides matching my own.
“You think some kid can keep him happy for long?”
“Stop following me!” One of the men watching television turned to see the commotion.
“If he really wanted just you, he wouldn’t take you to this place.”
“I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for him, I promise you that.” We had reached the windowed hallway connecting the lounge to the maze. Keith seized my shoulder, spun me around so I faced him. I couldn’t remember the last time a man looked at me with such hate, and I knew in that moment he wished me dead.
“I’m not giving up, kid,” he said. “Men like him get bored with little boys and they come looking for me. Just remember that.”
I nodded dumbly and backed away. I bumped into a wrought-iron table, jumped at the sudden screech the table leg made across the floor. Recovering, I ran into the maze of rented rooms, fully expecting Keith to follow me. But after I reached the hallway leading to our VIP room, he was gone. Taking a moment to collect myself before joining Cutter—I couldn’t tell him, never!—I felt hot, stinging tears in the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away roughly. Taking a deep breath, I turned the doorknob.
“What took you so long, boy?”
“There was more than one brand of water,” I said.
“Don’t fall for that bullshit. I don’t care what label’s on the bottle, water is fucking water.”
“Here you go,” I said, handing him the drink. He grabbed it and unscrewed the lid. Knowing I was giving myself away, I glared at my boyfriend as if trying to memorize his face before he disappeared forever.
“Boy, what’s wrong?”
“Are you ready to go, baby?”
“Don’t you want me to suck your dick?”
“I don’t care. I just wanna go!”
I felt the tears slide down my cheeks. I buried my face in my hands. The shakes my body made as I cried left no doubt that I needed my boyfriend’s comfort—right now.
Cutter took me into his arms. “Baby, it’s all right. I didn’t know this place upset you that much.”
“It does, it does.”
“C’mon, boy, you’re not supposed to cry in a bathhouse.”
“What can you do here?”
My boyfriend, the man I loved, smiled. “This,” he said, and pressed his mouth over mine. And with that, I was silenced once again. Through the speakers suspended over the room, an insistent bass line pounded. The boys on television groaned and grunted. Cutter pulled his face away. He gazed into my eyes. Did he want me to do something? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen that look on his face. I smiled and hoped I’d soon recall what that devastating gaze meant for my happiness, the happiness I felt pleasing the man I loved.
THE VALDETIAN
Mark Wildyr
I lay panting as my companion crawled off of me and strode into the bathroom. Stretching lazily on the bed, I waited to witness one of the most marvelous transformations on God’s green earth. Ajax Froman had entered the shower a handsome, virile, sexually sated adult; he would emerge as a fetching, loose-limbed nineteen-year-old adolescent in baggy clothes trailing an air of naïve innocence. The amazing thing was that both images were accurate. At times, he seemed downright otherworldly…for lack of a better term. He was an incredible fucking machine packaged in a slender, lightly sculpted body who considered an intimate relationship with another male to be no big deal. Nonetheless, he had thus far honored my request to guard our secret from the rest of the world.
“Hey, man.” Jax gave me a crooked smile as he returned to the room running long, tapered fingers through dark-brown locks that curled when damp. “That was awesome. I dig doing it with you.”
“Right back at you.” I adopted his patois. “I dig that big, swinging dick you sport, sport.”
Jax beamed like he was lit up by neon. “You like it, huh?”
“Sure do, my man. But I can’t keep from wondering who else gets a helping of it.”
“Nobody. I kinda like to stick with one guy until it’s time to move on.”
That sent a spasm of alarm through me. “Anybody else on the horizon?”
“Naw.” He shifted into a more comfortable slouch. “Well, there’s this jock at school. He’s been sniffing around. Think he might be about to make his move.”
I sat up abruptly and tried to hide my fright. “A jock? Didn’t know you went for that type.”
He gave a characteristic shrug that was so sexy I started tingling. The scent of soap and body lotion assailed me. “Don’t usually, but this guy’s hands-down hunky. The kind you get wet dreams about. Only problem is, he probably sees himself as a top, too.”
“He know about you?”
“Naw. He’s just…attracted, I guess you’d say.”
Jax went through his usual pat down, checking pockets for keys, wallet and whatever else he carried in his camo pants. “Gotta go, babe.” He leaned down for a kiss. Jax was a kisser. Learned it from movies and TV, I expect. And he’d learned damned well. The taste of his full lips almost rekindled my fire.
“When can I see you again?” I asked as he pulled away. “Next week?”
“Can’t. Got midterms. Be studying or taking tests all week. How about the week after?”
“Fine, so long as you don’t find time to squeeze in that jock.”
“Robert? Naw. Don’t think so. Probably won’t happen for a while.”
As usual, I suffered withdrawal symptoms the moment the door closed behind his trim butt. The beautiful kid had really gotten to me after only three sessions, the first of which was purely platonic. To fight my “post-Ajax depression,” I got busy around the house. At the top of the list was the front lawn, assuming I had enough strength to follow a mower around the yard, which was problematic. The sun was almost down, so perhaps the twilight air would revive me.
As I headed for the garage door on uncertain legs, the phone rang. At least I thought it did; the tone was weak and off-key. I picked up the receiver and answered. There was silence for a moment, but as I started to hang up, a wracking rattle that could have been a breath came over the wire.
“H…hello?” I said uncertainly.
“That boy…he fucked you good. Really good.”
As shocked as I was, I managed to notice the voice was strange—metallic, yet with intelligent inflections. It had to be someone playing tricks with one of those voice-altering devices. I grinned broadly.
“Ajax? Is that you? I’ve already admitted that you fuck like a rabbit!”
“A-jax. He is a beautiful human being, is he not? And he has a big appendage. Much bigger than yours.”
“You don’t have to fish for compliments, you good-looking son of a bitch. You come on back, and I’ll show you how beautiful and manly you are. And, yeah, you’ve got a big sausage.” Silence. “Ajax? Are you there?”
“The handsome A-jax, he is not here,” that odd voice replied.
Angered and fearful that I was being outed, I gripped the phone and made my voice harsh. “Who is this? Answer me! Who’s on the phone?”
Silence, and then a noise that could have been laughter, although it sounded like no laughter I knew. “This is your phone speaking.”
“Yeah, yeah! Who is this? If this isn’t Ajax, how did you know about him? What’s going on here?”
“I know about A-jax because I watched him perform his fantastic sex act upon you. He does it so gracefully and so forcefully.”
“You what? Impossible! We were in a—” I swallowed my tongue.
“Yes, in a closed room. But I watched nonetheless. It is a pity he can perform only for such a short time. He is a great pleasure to watch.”
“Such a short time? The kid fucked me for better than thirty minutes!” Oh, shit! I’d admitted it aloud. Yes, but to whom had I confessed? Someone from work? From the law firm where I’d practiced for the past three years? “Who is this? You fucker, tell me who you are!”
Silence for a long moment. “You would not understand.”
“What’s to understand? Just tell me who you are so I can sue your ass to hell and gone for invasion of privacy.”
A crackle of static came out of the receiver, and somehow I understood it was a sigh. “I am from far away, a place you will not know.”
This joker spun a good tale, but he wasn’t perfect. As he talked, his voice lost some of its tinniness, sounding more normal. “Try me. I’m a pretty at geography.”
“Geography will not help you. I am a Valdetian.”
“Where the fuck is that? And what’s your name?”
“Far away.” The voice took on a note of resignation. “Beyond reach. And my name would be unpronounceable to you. You may call me Valdetian.”
“Where are you?” I started going into my lawyer’s deposition mode.
“All around you.”
My back puckered as I scanned the room. I was alone. “Bullshit!” I lost some of my professional cool. “Cut the crap and come out where I can see you!” The hair on my arms stood up.
“You are not ready yet. I am not like you.”
“Then what are you like?” My skin crawled. My eyes searched the room, and I wished that I had turned on the lights. It was coming up on dark, and the vanity lights from the bathroom Ajax had left burning only half-relieved the gloom.
Another silence, and then, “Like this house.”
“My house? My fucking house is talking to me? I’m supposed to call my house Valdetian?”
“I am not your house. I merely…utilize it.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I warned that you would not understand. Perhaps this will make it clearer. I have two forms; my own, and this house.”
“Where in the house?” I grabbed the question out of the air. Was I going crazy or was this was really happening?
“Everywhere. I can abandon my own shape to shelter in an inanimate environment when danger threatens.”
I snorted…actually snorted. “Come on!” My turn to pause. “This Valdetia, is it in Europe or Asia? Or maybe Africa?”
“My home is Valdetia. I am Valdetian. Like your home is America, and you are—”
“Yeah, yeah! I get it. Look, fella. I’m a reasonably intelligent man…for a lawyer, that is. You don’t expect me to really believe—”
“Hang up the telephone,” the voice ordered so sternly that I instantly obeyed. “You see,” my grandfather clock said to me, “we do not need an instrument of communication to communicate.”
I about jumped out of my skin. “Get outta here!” I was reduced to street talk.
“I have,” the mirror over the mantel said. “Many times at night I leave when no one is stirring. But I always return.”
“Why? Why my house?”
“Your neighbors have families. You live alone. And your lifestyle is more interesting. Most of the men here consort with Mektosas…what you call women or females. You prefer Meksos, as do I.”
“You’re a homo Valdetian?” At that point I knew I was taking this semi-seriously.
“Homo? That is not a word I am familiar with. Much of what I know, I learned in this house, and that is not a word you commonly use.”
“How about queer or gay?”
“Ah. The preference for one of your own clete. Your own sex. Also, you play with your thing…I believe you call it a dick. A-jax calls it a cock. I think I prefer A-jax’s word.”
I’m sure the soles of my feet blushed. “You’ve been spying on me!”
“Of course. How else can I learn? I like the way you close your eyes when you near your time. Your mouth opens, and you let out this strange sound.”
My ears went red.
“A-jax closes his eyes, too, when he approaches ejaculation. You are a handsome man, Rex, but forgive me; A-jax is far superior.”
“No argument from me,” I mumbled, glad to get off of the subject of masturbation. “You see everything that goes on in here?”
Silence. Then, “Yes.”
“No, you don’t!” I exclaimed, suddenly understanding something. “You have to have eyes to see. Like the mirror or the TV. Right?”
“But I hear everything.”
“You son of a bitch! I’ll fix you. I’ll take down all the mirrors and move the TV out of my bedroom. I’ll blind you, you bastard.”
“Do you not like to be watched?”
Taking a mental step backward, I snapped, “I’ll get back to you on that. Right now I’m going to find the hidden cameras and microphones you jokers installed in here. Then I’m calling the cops.”
My uninvited guest remained mute as I turned on every light and scoured the entire house for two solid hours. I came up with nothing. No small, innocuous cameras, no miniature plastic bugs. Nothing. Finally, I collapsed on the sofa, mentally exhausted.
“Satisfied?” the glass on my coffee table asked, almost scaring me to death.
“I can’t get my head around this. Go on, convince me.”
“Shall I tell you how you awaken every morning with your cock erect?”
“Piss hard,” I mumbled defensively.
“Or how you come home some nights and sprawl on the sofa to finger your thing through your clothing. Sometimes, that is enough, but sometimes, you take it out and massage it until your fluid spurts out. You have not done that since you brought the amazing A-jax home. Tell me, why do you not bring other young men home with you? Only A-jax comes to your house.”
“Ajax!” I shouted inanely. “It’s Ajax; not A-jax.”
“Thank you. I will remember. Tell me how you met our beautiful friend.”
So I told the coffee mug on my lamp table how one Saturday three weeks ago, I’d given an incredibly handsome, graceful and overwhelmingly sensual teenaged hitchhiker a lift to UNM on East Central. The kid was so breathtaking I was loath to let him go, so I offered to buy lunch. He not only accepted; he talked a leg off me, something I was not accustomed to from the teens of my acquaintance. He was an American lit major in his sophomore year. His old buggy was on the fritz but should be repaired early the next week.
We ended up killing the afternoon, and the more I got to know him, the stronger the sexual attraction became. When I took him back to the university, I knew we’d meet again and probably end up in bed.
That cataclysmic event came a week later. It appeared to be a chance meeting, but in reality, our vibes the previous weekend had set a date in stone for the same time, same place the next Saturday. He bailed out of a vintage Chevy and got in my BMW, flashing the brilliant smile I found so endearing. Twenty minutes later, I was lying in my own bed getting the fucking of my life.
“Jax is a natural; unusually skilled for one of his tender years,” I finished.
“How does it become Jax instead of Ajax?”
“A nickname, a familiar. Makes him into a friend, an intimate.”
“I see. And what is your theory as to how Jax became so skilled?”
