Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love

by Jay Belle Isle

  Edgar stood and stretched, loosening his tight shoulders. Getting lost in his work meant for some great writing, but the downside was tight muscles. A few more quick stretches and his shoulders were sufficiently relaxed. "HC, set wake up alarm for eight p.m. and lights off," Edgar called out. The computer chimed, confirming the alarm as the lights winked out. The only remaining illumination came from the east-facing window at Edgar's desk. The dim evening light was perfect for a nap.

  Edgar grabbed the fleece throw from the back of the sofa, wrapping himself in its soft, warmth and snuggled on the sofa. The caress of the tan fleece against his bare skin instantly relaxed Edgar and moments later, he was fast asleep.

  An insistent chime wormed its way into Edgar's dream. He stirred slowly, resentful of the interruption. The dream was particularly erotic, involving a threesome that included Maddi and a lightly-furred Ch'oran, a feline-like alien with the ability to orgasm a dozen times in the course of a two-hour romp. This, Edgar knew from first hand (and mouth and ass) experience. The dream left him with a raging hard-on as well as a small pool of pre-cum overflowing his navel and soaking the fleece.

  As consciousness returned, Edgar realized it wasn't the alarm chiming, but the comm system. He was instantly awake, knowing the call was either an emergency or Evans. Wiping up the sticky puddle with the wrap, he queried the home computer, "Identify caller."

  The HC responded, "Caller identity: Barrister Evans."

  "Put him through," Edgar said. The system chimed and Edgar spoke into the air. "Evans. Good evening. Thanks for waiting; I was napping."

  "Good evening, Mr. Aeternum. Not to worry; I apologize for waking you," the barrister's crisp British accented voice filled the room.

  "No bother, Evans. You know I don't mind. I assume you have news from Altair Legal? Or, am I being sued by yet another aspiring millionaire?" Edgar joked.

  "No new actions, sir; unless, of course, you've something to tell me?" responded Evans, an almost imperceptible trace of humor in his voice. Edgar recognized these moments as the closest the barrister ever came to a joke.

  Edgar chuckled and said, "No, nothing new. Believe it or not, I've been behaving myself."

  "The exception to the rule," said Evans. Edgar smiled, realizing the suit must have been dismissed and Evans' retribution had likely been swift as well as merciless. The normally reserved man only made such quips after exacting nasty vengeance on a deserving victim.

  "Point to you," Edgar said with a laugh. "What news do you have then?"

  "The action was dismissed and the young," here, the barrister paused, "lady was fined for filing such a frivolous complaint."

  "Bravo, Evans!" Edgar congratulated the man. "Not that I'm surprised; it was a frivolous complaint and I do have the best barrister around. I assume we won't have any future problems from her?" Edgar asked. He'd learned this was the best way to inquire about his barrister's unofficial actions. The man closed up tighter than a nervous virgin when questioned directly. He shared only a small bit of this information and only when approached properly. Edgar respected this, given his own propensity for secrecy on some topics.

  "No sir," Evans answered. "She will soon find herself otherwise occupied offworld. Apparently, the bank made her an offer to clerk at a branch on Tyranus 6; she's scheduled to leave in two days. She was highly motivated to accept the position. Of course, she'll have no access to any of your information."

  Edgar knew the woman's motivation likely came in the form of a private conversation with an agent responsible for offworld recruiting for Dissa. The colony was the polar opposite of Genesis, almost entirely devoted to hedonistic exploration. It was also fairly lawless; her recruitment opportunity was probably for one of the sex clubs. The pay was high, but no such things as limits were allowed for the workers. Obviously, she knew what awaited her there to choose Tyranus 6. That colony was only twenty years old, quite young. Life there, as on any colony younger than seventy years, would be hard. As in frontier, Wild West hard. Colonists were a hardy lot, generally wanting to rough it. They could have it as far as Edgar was concerned.

  Her employer must be the colony's financial backer for Evans to have been able to seal her fate so quickly. Even Evans had limits, though he was as close to a miracle worker as Edgar had ever seen. "Well done, Evans," Edgar complimented the man. "I appreciate your expediency."

  "Of course, sir. You're most welcome," replied Evans. "Unless you have further need of my services, I shall let you get on with your evening."

  "I can't think of anything," Edgar said. "Thank you again. Enjoy your evening, Evans."

  "I shall, sir. I hope you do the same. End call." The unit chimed and Evans was gone.

  Edgar checked the time and shook his head. Seven forty-five. He loathed waking before the alarm's chime to find it was almost time to get up. Nevertheless, the call was important and he was happy that the case was closed. He hadn't been worried, really, but the legal system in the 2-4 was just as fucked as it had been in the twen-cen and there was always the remote chance of an unpleasant surprise.

  "Cancel wake-up alarm," he ordered the HC as he headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. The familiar chime sounded and the even tone of the HC's programmed voice followed Edgar to the bathroom, "One message waiting."

  "Hold message," Edgar said as he unleashed a strong stream of urine into the bowl. "Mmmmm..." he sighed as the pleasure of a good piss washed over him. It was a long leak, good given the amount he drank earlier.

  That feels so fuckin' good! Ahhhh, yeah. Nothin' quite like a good whiz. Almost makes up for the interrupted nap. Though it is nice to have that greedy little bitch off my back. I hate shit like that. I have a feeling she's gonna hate Tyranus 6; serves her right.

  I wonder who called. Whoever it is can damn well wait. I hated cellphone chats in the bathroom in the twen-cen and I hate comm calls there now. Nothing is so important it needs to be handled in the john, period.

  The stream slowed to a trickle and then stopped. Edgar shook off the last drops, washed his hands and requested playback of message. Maddi's voice tracked Edgar back to the living room, where Edgar wrapped himself in the fleece again before sitting.

  "H-hi, Edgar! It's Maddox," the boy sounded both cheerful and terrified at the same time. "Th-thanks for calling me back. Sorry I missed you, too, m-man. My schedule is crazy. I, uh, really do wanna talk, uh, soon. Maybe, um..." the pause sounded as though Maddox was screwing up enough courage to jump from a plane. "Maybe you'd, uh, like to, um, g-get together s-sometime soon? Uh, look, if you, um, don't want to, I-I understand. I j-just think it'd be fun. H-hope to hear from you soon! End call."

  He sat pondering the message. Obviously, the boy was nervous and didn't think that Edgar could possibly be interested in him. Edgar wondered if maybe it was just nerves. Could it be that Maddox was somehow desperate? Maybe even unbalanced? Edgar's stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly announcing its desire for dinner. Roused from his musings, Edgar called for lights and the apartment was filled with a warm glow. Now that renewable energy was no big deal, the world had returned to incandescent lights, flipping a big bird to their pale, fluorescent substitutes.

  He got up and dropped the wrap. Once out of the warm cocoon, he shivered a bit and ordered the HC to bring the apartment to nighttime temp. It could be automated, but since his schedule was so erratic, Edgar typically left it on manual. In the meantime, he popped into his bedroom and grabbed a lush, thick robe of a pale sky-blue. Wearing it felt like a hug and the color highlighted Edgar's sandy blond hair perfectly.

  "Music," he called out to the HC on his way to the kitchen. The system chimed and requested, "Selection?" Edgar paused for a moment. The nap hadn't been particularly satisfying, other than the racy dream, and he was glad Jace invited him to the club tonight. "1980s Earth, light rock," Edgar said and the system obliged; a second later, A-Ha began Take on Me.

  He stood in the kitchen, hungry but not feeling particularly motivated to cook and decided pizz
a sounded good. He got an ice-cold glass of water and said, "Pause music." Immediately, the song stopped. "Place call: Antonia's Pizza."

  The line picked up and Edgar was greeted by the friendly bass of his favorite pie maker. "Antonia's, Tazz here. What can I get ya?" Edgar pictured the sparkling green eyes and jet black hair that went with the voice.

  If you weren't straight as the proverbial arrow, I'd like a double sausage!

  Instead, Edgar said, "Tazz! It's Edgar! I like a large double special, please."

  "Ed-dee!" the cheery bass boomed. "How's it, man?"

  Edgar smiled. Tazz was the only one who called him "Eddie" and certainly the only one in this century Edgar ever heard pronounce it with that emphasis. He liked it; it took him back to when he actually went by that nickname. "It's pretty sweet, mah man!" Edgar replied. It was their standard exchange, even on the occasions Edgar ordered a couple days in a row.

  "Good to hear! You wanna toss in an order of Stix with that?" Tazz asked.

  At the mention of the word "Stix," Edgar's stomach growled again, making the decision for him. The things ought to come with a Surgeon General's warning, they were so damned addictive. Sweet, sweet dough laced with enough butter to sauté a hippo, rolled around a chewy tsano core and baked to perfection. The secret was the tsano; the root vegetable, grown only on Mars, made a cheese-like paste when baked. It required no spices, it was so flavorful. Edgar once spent a whole year trying to find a taste on Earth analogous to tsano before he finally gave up. "Man, I'm starved, Tazz! Better make it two!"

  "You got it, my friend! You're the only guy I know can eat a whole order and still have room for pizza. Me, I eat like that I end up lookin' like a damn tsano!" Tazz' laugh, more like the rumble of a volcano, filled the room and made Edgar think of eating said tsano off of Tazz' naked ass. He was too respectful, as a proper Andro should be, to make a pass, though. Tazz' wife worked delivery at Antonia's and Edgar didn't poach in protected territory.

  "Luck of the draw, I guess," laughed Edgar. "How are you and Trina, by the way?" Trina being Tazz' wife.

  "We're as good as these Stix and twice as hot!" Tazz joked. They were one of the happiest and most affectionate couples Edgar had ever met so it was no surprise. "When you gonna settle down, get 'chained?" Tazz asked the question at least once every other call; a friendly jibe, all good intentions. 'Chained' being the pie maker's abbreviation for "ball and chain," the expression having survived into the twenty-fourth century.

  "You know me, Tazz," Edgar said, laughing. "Gotta find the right one first. Six feet tall, prehensile dick, can breathe through his ears…"

  Edgar was thankful for the demise of the handheld telephone; the laugh that boomed over the HC's comm unit would've left his ears ringing. This was another inside joke of theirs; Tazz asking when Edgar was going to settle down, Edgar saying he needed to find the right man first. Edgar always changed the right man's qualifications in ways designed to get Tazz to laugh.

  "Ah! Stop it, you!" the man said, catching his breath. "I laugh that hard again, I'll piss myself! Got another order comin' in, Eddie. Trina'll be there in about twenty."

  "Got it, Tazz! Keep it fresh!" It was Edgar's sign-off line with Tazz.

  "Fresh, hot 'n' spicy!" came Tazz' reply. "End call."

  While he waited for his food, Edgar returned Maddox' call. Once again, the nervous young man wasn't available, so Edgar left another message. "Hey Maddox; it's Edgar! Sorry I missed your call," he paused, "again. Let's keep trying; one of these days we'll connect." He resisted signing off with 'tag, you're it' as the game hadn't been played since the late twenty-second century. Instead, he said, "I hope you're having a good evening. Talk to you soon. End call."

  True to Tazz' word, twenty minutes later the HC announced that Trina was requesting access to Highland House. Edgar approved her entry and moments later met her at the door. The petite delivery woman was all smiles, her bubbly personality like a shot of caffeine to Edgar.

  "Edgar, hon! Good to see you, as always," she said, handing him the food.

  "You too, Trina! C'mon in!" Edgar replied. They usually had a few minutes to visit when Trina delivered, but tonight she declined.

  "Love to, babe, but we're busy as hell tonight so I can't," she said.

  "No worries," Edgar said. "That means business is good and you can't knock that, eh?"

  "No, you can't," Trina replied. "But I sure will be ready for the hot tub tonight! Have a great one, hon. We'll catch up next time."

  "Sounds good," Edgar said. "You have a great one, too and enjoy that soak!" Trina turned and headed back toward the elevator. The door closed and Edgar turned to attack the delicious smelling food.

  CHAPTER 7

  Forty-five minutes later, Edgar had wiped out all but half an order of Stix and a quarter of the pizza. Drinking deep from his second beer, he surveyed the damage with a grin. He set the beer on the end table and took the leftovers to the fridge. He still felt aroused from the dream and decided, since Jace was never a bedmate, he should take care of it before heading to Maxi's.

  Edgar grabbed another beer from the 'fridge and went back to the living room. Another deep drink and number two was gone. He sat back on the sofa and ordered up the movie he'd jerked to earlier, conveniently picking up where he'd left off.

  Onscreen, the page was bent over the arm of the Thraxian Emperor's throne, ass up, head down. The Emperor flipped the boy's cloth wrap up onto his back, exposing the tight, hairless globes of his ass. The Emperor shrugged and his own robes slid to the floor. Taking his huge cock in hand, he rubbed its thick mushroom head up and down the page's crack. In response, the boy moaned and ground against the older man's cock.

  Edgar was already wet, rubbing his pre-cum over his own cock. He took a deep swallow of beer number three, rubbing the sweaty bottle over his hard nipples. The Emperor was slapping the page's ass with his veiny rod, telling him to "make ready for a rough ride." The page responded by reaching back and spreading his ass cheeks exposing the perfect pink rose of his hole and moaning.

  Without preamble, the Emperor put his cockhead against the boy's tight hole and pushed. Both cried out as the Emperor's rod popped past the page's muscular ring; the Emperor from the slick hotness now sheathing him and the boy from the pain of the sudden invasion. It didn't take long for the eager page to adjust, however; he began bucking back against the older man, panting lustfully. Encouraged by his display, the Emperor buried his huge rod deep inside the boy with one mighty thrust. The page whimpered and moaned while the Emperor began a brutal rhythm, pounding the boy's ass furiously.

  Edgar held his load for as long as he could, keeping himself on the very edge of orgasm. The Emperor was smacking the boy's ass hard enough to redden it, causing him to tighten his hole even further as he jacked his own cock. A moment later, the younger man screamed his orgasm and coated the throne with his jizz, followed soon after by the Emperor who gave two last thrusts before bellowing unintelligibly as he filled his page's ass with thick, hot cum.

  This sent Edgar over the top; he put the beer down and grabbed his ballsack with his free hand tugging it low as he pumped out another massive wad all over his chest. Smiling and still breathing a little hard, he shut off the movie and finished the last of his beer before heading to the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes and a hot washcloth later and he was as good as new. Totally relaxed and temporarily not horny, he brushed his teeth and scented himself with Nag Champa, his favorite oil. He entered the walk-in to choose the evening's outfit.

  What to wear, what to wear? Maxi's is pretty laid back, anything goes, really. Suits 'n' ties, jeans 'n' tees, club wear - not that own any, glitter and gold lamé were never my thing, you name it. I really don't feel like dressing up, though. Jace'll probably show up in jeans; he's pretty casual. Well, at least fashion-wise; he won't have a casual attitude tonight. Not after dinner with Anice, in any case. Poor bastard. Even if I wasn't an only child, I still couldn't stand a sib like her; everything is a goddamn
drama. Think I'll buy tonight; Jace probably laid out the credits for dinner. Anice may have 'champagne tastes', but she barely has a 'beer budget'. Ah! Perfect!

  Edgar picked a pair of black jeans, the denim broken in just so, and a robin's-egg blue polo. Grabbing a black, woven-leather belt with a rectangular silver buckle and bright white high-tops to finish it off, he took the clothes into the bedroom. The jeans were so soft, he always went commando when he wore them.

  He went into the bathroom to check himself out. After running a brush through his perpetually mussed hair, he nodded and popped in his 'bud. The soft chime indicated the device's activation. He grabbed his wallet, a thin leather-like pouch that contained his ID and credit chip, and headed out.

  Edgar was just in time to catch the nine-thirty magna. He hopped on just a moment before the doors slid shut. Technically, this wasn't procedure according to the transit authority; for "safety reasons," they discouraged citizens from last-minute boarding. However, Edgar had done it often enough to know how to do it safely and the TA seemed to conveniently forget that the magma's sensors would never allow the doors to shut on anything with a pulse.

  He grabbed a seat, ignoring the few stares and eye rolls aimed his way in response to the late boarding. As per usual, unless the scrutiny was of a medical or psy nature, Edgar's level of concern was small to the point of being undetectable. Rather than look sheepish or apologetic, he tossed the passengers his best, brightest smile and 'fuck you' look.