1: In Praise of the Older Man
I sat on the bed of the middle aged man. He was almost sixty (or so he said), and I marveled over how handsome he was with his thick head of steel gray hair which he wore combed back neatly. I was actually aroused when he removed his shirt and revealed a very well developed chest with a fine coating of salt and pepper fur on it, and when I saw how nice and firm his ass appeared, my ageism melted while my cock grew straining the white briefs, which was the only article of clothing I was wearing.
His name was Mr. Harris and he was a realtor who sold some of the finest homes in Beverly Hills to some of the most important people in town.
While he undressed, he made polite talk with me, asking me about my past, friends, family. I answered him back as politely as he asked, though I could not help but steal gazes about the magnificent room I was in, with it's marble fireplace and rather Gothic furnishings; the bed alone was like something out of a movie, a four poster monolith with acres of pillows and luxurious sheets and blankets.
"Make yourself comfortable, Walt", he said now fully undressed, his cock standing straight up. Once again I marveled over this man's physique. He caught me staring at his body and he smiled brightly, his deep cultured voice (which sounded like Richard Burton's -- but without the British accent) boomed through the cavern like bedroom, "It's in the genes. My father is still alive, he's 91, my great grandfather died when he was 99. He looked twenty years younger when he passed," And then he assumed a boxers pose and told me that he was the golden gloves champ in 1948. Finally he paused and folded his arms and studied me for a minute and said,
"You remind me of an old buddy of mine...a fellow I served with in Korea...we, were.", he paused for a second searching for the word, "lovers. That's what they call it today, don't they? Of course back in 52, you never acknowledged anything like that, no sir, that would not only get you tossed out of the Army, it would have ruined your life," he paused again and sat next to me and gently stroked my hair, "Dear god, it's frightening how much you look like Nicky".
And then he leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. It was a deep, sensual kiss and I returned it to him and then put my arms around him. He held me and lay his head on my chest and I whispered to him, "Tell me about Nicky, what happened?"
He pulled back for a second, his face suddenly looking old and haggard and said, "He died right after the war. Hung himself. He could not handle it...being a homosexual."
I told him I was sorry and he said, "We were together for three beautiful years...after he died I left Kansas and came out here and through myself into work."
Then he kissed me again and we fell into that massive bed of his and we made love. Yes, that's what it was. This was not a normal fuck-for-pay scene, no, Mr. Harris was a gentle and generous lover, concerned with my pleasure as much as his own...that said we worked up a good sweat and frankly, I felt like I was with a young hale man...when he finally had his orgasm he held me tightly and said in that beautiful voice of his, "Nicky, dear god, Nicky..." and I held him until he became still and kissed him gently .
Somewhere, I felt my heart breaking in sympathy for this very wealthy, very lonely man.
When we were through, Mr. Harris asked me if I could stay a bit longer. I agreed, I had no pressing engagements.
We played an intense tennis match (he beat the pants off me) and later on, swam in his pool...all the while, he told me stories of his life, of his wife (who lived in another home a few miles away) of his two sons (also successful realtors). I learned how he hid behind the mask of heterosexuality and how he took his frustration over that by being a cut throat business man.
As the sun went down, we sat on the terrace and sipped some cocktails that his butler had brought out. Over cigarettes (which he produced from a small gold case) we talked some more and then he asked me if we could have "one more for the road".
This time we retired to his pool house, and stripped down quickly. I pushed him down
on the small sofa in the room and began sucking on his cock while he held my head down. He called me his beautiful angel, and I looked up for a second from his dick and winked at him and then went back at it.We switched around to a sixty-nine position and sucked each other off. I had not realized how big his member was until he began ramming my throat making me gag a few times. He paused and pulled off my cock for a second and teasingly said in his deep voice, "Come on son, can't you take this old man?" and he smacked my ass playfully and went back to going down on me...
He fucked me gently while I lay with my legs up and resting on his shoulders. He never took his eyes off me while banging me and when I reached up for his nipples and flicked them, he let out a loud sigh and shot his load ... when he was through, he kissed me and then said, "Now just relax and let daddy drive" and he proceeded to give me one of the best blow jobs I'd ever had.
Mr. Harris gave me three hundred dollars as well as his card, he jotted down, what he said, was his private number, and as he walked me out to my car, he gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "Thanks Walt, you brought Nicky back for the day".
I smiled and waved from the car and drove back to Burbank.
For some reason, I felt like crying.
2: A Phone Call From New Jersey
I got home and found Aaron pacing the living room. When he saw me enter, he ran up to me with a wild look and grabbed my arms and said, "Your mother has been calling here all afternoon".
I felt my heart sink, a phone call from home could not be good news.
"What did you tell her?" I asked.
"Well, I told her you were at work." And then he blurted out, "Your father's had a heart-attack, your mother told me that the doctor thinks he'll be alright but..."
Everything else was just white noise.
Somehow I called home and managed to stay composed while I talked to my brother who said that mom was at the hospital, he told me that I'd better get home quick. I called the hospital and got my mother. She said that dad was resting and then she began crying.
"Ma, I'll be home on the next flight".
I hung up the phone and saw Aaron standing in the doorway looking at me, his hair hung in his eyes as he said, "I have a connection at TWA, he's a client, I'll call him, he'll take care of everything...
Again, everything was just more white noise.
Things blurred...I made it down to the bank just before closing and cashed in my account. I had fifteen thousand in the account...when I got back to Aaron's I put two thousand on the sink in his bathroom, he deserved this...another call came, a limo was picking me up for a flight that was going to leave at 9:30. It was 6:30...I packed, Aaron helped me silently...and when we finished he said, "Will you come back?"
I said nothing.
He put his arms around me and softly said, "I'm so sorry, brother. But I love you, and don't want to lose you".
"Aaron, you know how I feel", I said putting my suitcase in the hallway, "but I don't know what's going to happen, I mean what if he dies?"
He took me in his arms and while I expected to collapse in tears and exhaustion, instead we tore at each other's clothes because, both of us knew, no matter what, we'd never see each other again...
3: The Final Fuck
He held me firm, pointing his enormous cock at my mouth, "Suck it!" he demanded and I opened my mouth and Aaron shoved himself in and I fell on to the floor and he fucked my face while I gagged and coughed, it didn't seem to matter to either of us, I just wanted to swallow his cock and just stay where I was on the hallway floor of that house in Burbank...and then he took his cock out and smacked my face with it and then shoved it back into my mouth and I sucked it until he began screaming my name, not Walt, but my real name, and then I tossed him off of me and grabbed him by his hair and shoved him down on my dick and pulled him on to it and he sucked with a greedy ferocity like he was lapping at a fountain after forty days in the desert...I don't recall when, but we ended up in the bed room. Aaron mounted me while I lay on my belly and fucked me. Like always when he fucked me, he sent me to another place, and in spite of everything, I felt myself getting lost, as has cock went in deeper, harder and faster, I knew one thing, I was crying, just like the first time with him, he'd brought me to tears; and like the first time, these were not tears of pain, but of joy...yes, but they were mixed with tears of sadness, sadness for my father, sadness for this wild chapter of my life which was about to come to an end...
He tried, and he almost managed to fuck the sorrow out of me, he slapped my ass and revealed a manic, aggressive side that I'd never seen before...ah Christ but he rode me like a race horse that night and I needed it.
When he pulled out, he rolled over quickly and we were locked in an embrace, kissing each other and this time, I saw tears in his eyes and this made me love him even more. Then he said, "Bang me brother, hard, make me remember it!"
I went for his ass, and started by giving him a couple of good hard smacks, every time I did, he said, "More! Harder!" Then I spit on my hand and started finger fucking his ass, playing with his tight hole, stretching it and using him like a puppet, like he'd done to me on our first night together, and when I could take it no more, I shoved my cock in him and he cried out my name and I closed my eyes and I cried out also, only it was a howl that was borne of sadness and loss and lust and I shot my load up his ass and my entire body seized up in pleasure spasms and I kept howling and he kept calling out my name and finally, Aaron came and we continued on the bed, wallowing in our spilled seed, wet with sweat and cum and finally, for one last time, we kissed and it was the most bittersweet kiss I'd ever experienced.4: Say Goodbye To Hollywood
I washed up and dressed and before I had time to say anything else to him, the limo was waiting. I grabbed the suitcase and turned, he was sitting on the bed naked, smoking a joint. I raised my hand and he flashed me the peace sign, his eyes still wet with tears.
I turned and dashed out the door.
Aaron's friend had arranged passage in first class.
When the jet took off, I closed my eyes and, like a film, I rewound the last few months in my mind...the gorillas, the movie star and his party, The Werewolf, The Game Show Host, The Photographer from Palm Springs, The back alley sex, The Barracuda, the dunes, the warm California Sun, Mr. Harris...Aaron, my dear sweet, Aaron...had it all really happened?
I opened my eyes, back to reality, back to New Jersey, back to 1977.
I wondered how my father was doing.
They announced that a film would be shown on our flight. The movie star whose house I had been in was starring in this film. I deferred the headphones and flicked through an old copy of Time Magazine and read a story about Jimmy Carter.
When they turned on the smoking sign, I reached into my pocket to grab a cigarette, something fell out ...an envelope that said "Walt" on it in Aaron's handwriting. I looked at the envelope and sighed and shoved it back in to my pocket.
I'd read his letter another day...
THE END
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